#for whenever i use this verse beyond the drabble point at least

[mathcs]

POST DRABBLE NOTES FOR: " 𝐀 𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐃 : 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐇 "

soon after the depicted event takes place, it becomes widely known as 'the helioborg incident’. this ultimately resulted in the near total destruction of the facility as well as the loss of all spyrite research material known to be stored there. the exact number of casualties are unclear, and several people are presumed deceased or have gone missing since. the area is currently off limits to civilians.

information regarding the involvement of jude mathis regarding this incident: it is known to authorities that he was the cause of helioborg’s destruction, reported as “an act of heinous terrorism by someone once to be trusted” to the elympios public. when the incident took place, he was present at the site and acted alone. any additional motivations are currently unknown or confidential. known to select authorities only, he is currently presumed alive and wanted for his crimes at the highest level of priority (reported deceased for the purposes of calming the public).

further persons of interests to capture and detain seem to be anyone that is known to have worked with him on his spyrite research. most are currently missing.

with the dire and panicked state of the world in mind, some have turned to finding ways to counter and control the gradual but deadly release of mysterious miasma. survival has become priority for many as the situation continues to worsen.

due to the absence of key individuals, tensions between rieze maxia and elympios soared to dangerous new heights overnight and are rapidly deteriorating. currently, along with the early stages of war, development of new weapons are soon to be complete. among these is something to be used with spyrite.

spirius corporation, struggling to remain operational as they used to, continues concentrating its efforts toward another sector of research behind the scenes: namely the manipulation of fractured dimensions, and the possibility of long term refuge inside them. this remains largely unknown to the public.

the complete and apparent loss of spyrite research have led certain experts to estimate that, given the severe lack of resources, funds, public and political interest, as well as the dangerous instability of international relations, it could take at least ten years from now to develop basic functioning spyrite models under watching eyes. this estimate, however, completely excludes the potential of spyrite use as a weapon.

[ourstarscollided]

jatp fanworks appreciation - day 1 (writers)

motivation - so in true me fashion and my aversion to brevity, i've made three (3) posts (see also artists, gifs/edits) to celebrate the wonderful people in this fandom who have made my jatp tumblr experience what it is; a community of people who simply shout into the void about their love of a ghost band and their fearless female leader. i've enjoyed simply being on the sidelines admiring everyone's love for the show, but i thought this would be a good time to really show my appreciation for all these wonderful people, because if i've learned anything from this pandemic, it's that there is NEVER a wrong time to tell someone that they are simply ✨the best✨.

disclaimer: i don't interact with most of these people personally and i simply absorb their content from afar and scream about how wonderful they are in the tags.

This list kind of became a fic rec, so if you're looking for some wonderful fics to read (or reread), I've also included my favs from the author here as well.

Okay this is gonna get a little long so please bear with me. But I just wanted to preamble this by saying that the fanfiction written by the jatp fandom is what resparked my love for reading fiction after about 3-4 years of not reading for leisure (be an adult they said. it'll be fun they said.). So I'm really grateful for that? I don't interact with a lot of people, just because it makes me a little anxious, but I will constantly yell about your content in the tags as if I were on a set of bleachers with a megaphone.

I also know there are so many wonderful fic writers out there (on Tumblr and not on Tumblr) that make amazing pieces of work, and this is just a tiny peek into that, and is not at all conclusive.

Without further ado here are some writers who live rent free in my head, in alphabetical order, so feel free to just skip to your name to avoid my rambling:

@bluefirewrites -> your Merry Ex-Mas fic had me on the edge of my seat every single time you updated. I am so in love with how you wrote the characters into this and at how many words you churned out for this fic. This was filled with so much adventure, and it was really welcome during a time when the world wasn't allowed to travel. And I simply love all the other drabbles and fics you write, but I especially enjoy the hilarity of Ray Molina, Crime Scene Photographer and Matchmaker.

@captainkippen -> I'm pretty sure Love Drunk was one of the first fics I ever read in this fandom. Your stories and your writing feel so goddamn real and I find myself so immersed in the worlds that you've created. I have reread most of your jatp fics and I still manage to find myself stupidly grinning at my phone each time. Your stories flow so easily and are such perfect characterizations of the characters we know from the show, but elevated to fit into your verse. I cannot say enough how wonderful your writing is and how talented you are!! (also a slight nudge that I am still very much following along with The Key and the Crown and I hope you continue it!)

@catty-words -> Your???? Exhaustive??? Music??? Lists???? The amount of work and dedication and microanalyzing that you put into pulling out every detail from each scene is so admirable. You not only manage to find the details, but you also give us EVIDENCE via your intricately selected gifs. You could've just put the video of the performance, but no, you take your time to find that specific 1 second shot to emphasize your point. And your little fics that you sometimes throw out into the world? They're so beautiful, and so fun to read and I enjoy them so much! (I am STILL screaming about this band's a snack) Thank you for validating my yelling in the tags, and for feeding my hyperfixation to this show. (I'm sad these lists are ending soon, but it's about the journey ya know?)

@lydias--stiles -> I don't even know what to say here because I've yelled so much about your fics that I feel like there's really nothing else to yell. Your Road Trip AU was also one of the first ones I read in this fandom, and really just made me go absolutely feral. Pretty sure I absorbed the rest of your fics in an ungodly amount of time and I just simply think you are incredibly skilled and talented. Every time you post a new fic I always wonder what it's like to be in your head because the ideas you come up with are so unique and so well thought out. Thank you for all the art you create for this show, I will constantly be in awe of you. (Special shoutout to the 5+1 fic that became a 31 chapter monster)

@pearlcaddy -> This list would not be complete if I didn't mention you. First of all, thank you for suggesting this wonderful week, it has been so lovely to see so much love being spread around today. Secondly, I never thought I'd find myself reading a Buffy or a Wizarding World crossover fic, considering I know nothing about those two things. And yet I found myself on various nights after work at 3 in the morning just silently screaming and/or crying into my phone. Your writing is so insane. Your world building is so insane. Your banter/dialogue is insane. The way you capture the love between Julie/Luke in different universes is so perfect. Thank you for gifting us these beautiful pieces of art, and I hope you know that you have at least made one person (me) a very happy reader. I also really admire your dedication to "this will only be a oneshot", only to write like 4 other POVs for it. (Special shoutout to 100 Bad Days)

@ruzek-halstead -> Literally every single fic you have written lives rent free in my head. The way you've managed to build this universe of different Julies and Lukes, and each one still captures the essence of them is astounding. You've extended their characters beyond what we know from the show and I am just in awe of everything you write. Please know that dead of night is both triggering to me and yet the most hilarious thing I have read. (Special shoutout to the Fake Dating Christmas AU and of course the Cinderella Story AU)

@serendipitee -> Your stories and your writing are absolutely magical. I think Write It Down was one of the first multi-chapter fics that I followed super closely and whenever you updated, I would literally drop what I was doing and read it instantly. You have such a way of building the plot and the characters for all of your fics and drabbles, and making the reader just want more. Please know that I am so obsessed with Oh, She Waltzed With the Dead and I cannot wait to see where you take the story!

@sunsetcurbed -> I have no words for your writing. I am simply in awe every time I read something from you. The way you've got down Alex and Willie's voice to a tee is so crazy good. You write their characters and their stories with such grace and care, especially with how you approach the topic of mental health. Thank you for all the research you do and for also writing in your own experiences. I literally binged the Princes Diaries AU during work and lost a good half day to it, and I regret nothing because that fic left me in SHAMBLES. I secretly adore the way you say you're going to keep a fic short, and end up writing an insane amount of words for it. (I have not yet left my obligated long-ass comment on Chapter 4 of the College AU yet because I am still processing the fate/destiny concept.)

@tangledstarlight -> Gahh. Rosie. Please. This is going to sound a little repetitive considering I just screamed at you last night, but now I guess I will just have to publicly confess my adoration for you!!! Thank you for being my first online friend in a very long time, and for putting up with me yelling at you about everything (and also nothing at the same time). I can't believe all it took was one message about your Royals AU for you to post it, but I will gladly take that credit any day. You are so so so incredibly talented with your writing, and your ability to transport me to another world while I read your fics is unparalleled. I adore the way you can come up with a new story to write every day, and then proceed to throw it into your pot of other WIPs. I am so so so so lucky to have gotten to know you and am incredibly grateful that I now have someone to cry about everything with 🧡 (If you read anything from Rosie, you need to read her Seasons/Long Distance Juke "friendship" fic and the Reggie x Photography oneshot that made me bawl my eyes out.)

@thedeathdeelers -> No thoughts. Just soulmates. Jk jk, you know I love your Reggie x Ray x Carlos fics, and I will scream in the tags about it until the day I get more of those fics from you. This is lowkey a threat, but wrapped in kindness. You are so wonderful to see on my dash (albeit scary at times because of the sheer amount of headcanons and theories running through your head), but you radiate such positive energy that it's impossible to not want to jump in and scream about soulmates with you.

Some special mentions to fics that also live rent free in my head:

@sunsetsandcurves wrote a Willex Cruise Ship AU inspired by a Simple Plan song and it’s something I never knew I needed until I read it. 

@phantom-curve wrote a Juke fic based off of Coney Island and I would just like to say, yes, it did shatter me. (Here’s the fluff sequel that makes up for it though)

@unsaidjulie wrote the Juke dog fic of my dreams and I simply cannot express how much I want the Molina’s to have a dog now. 

@pawprinterfanfic managed to get me incredibly invested in a Star Wars AU even though I know absolutely nothing about Star Wars. I just know that I would die for two (2) space boys. 

@sanssssastark  your Later universe made me realize that I do very much want there to be more mature content for this fandom (and you constantly deliver).

@theobligatedklutz wrote a Tangled Willex AU that makes me screech every time there’s an update. Just read it.

@alexthedrummerboy your talent knows no bounds when it comes to your Social Media AU. Also she’s written ORIGINAL songs for Alex and Willie?!?!?! 

@gennified has this really wonderful modern take on pride and prejudice for Willex and I’m so obsessed with how much miscommunication there is.

@bananaleaves okay, I just found your Tumblr today, and I know you don’t know me in any capacity, but allow me to scream about THIS FIC RIGHT HERE. If anyone in this fandom is to read ANYTHING, it’s this fic. This was one of the best things I’ve read in a long time and absolutely wrecked me. Please just read this.

This turned out WAY longer than it was supposed to, and I’m SO SORRY. (I also tried to make sure I got everyone’s pronouns right, so PLEASE let me know if they’re wrong!) A final sincere thank you to everyone in this fandom who writes. Your talent knows no bounds. Gonna stop talking now before this becomes an essay....

[secret-engima]

Seer LC verse Drabble: Answer

(Me: I need to go back to watching Realm Reborn so I can learn the Lore.

Also Me: Spams a song-drabble that probably ignores a TON of lore but fits with my own budding HCs about my Seer LC Cyra. Anyway yes I did a Thing, here is the song that goes with the Thing if you want to listen while you read:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bWdeMqELN-U

Also pssst @wolfsrainrules @sparklecryptid @hamelin-born @ertrunkenerwassergeist @ean-sovukau

...

     She eyed their destination doubtfully and aired one more time, “You really believe this will help?”

     Regis nodded, more confident in explaining magic than he was in talking to her about anything else, “Our magic is not meant to be restrained all the time. At least, not so thoroughly as you have. The potential side-effects of doing so are many, but chronic pain is one of the most common ones. If you allow it to flow, to use up the excess energy, I do believe it would help. It likely will not cure your pain, but it should make it easier to bear.”

     So he’d said about three times now. Cyra still wasn’t entirely convinced. The thought of letting her magic out, letting it run wild after so many years keeping it tightly controlled was … intimidating. She wasn’t even sure if she could at this point, if she could physically let go of something she had clutched tight for so long. She also wasn’t sure the room to which Regis had led her would withstand the potential chaos if she did let go, even though he had assured her several times that the towering chamber was built specifically with angry Lucis Caelums in need of letting loose in mind.

     She eyed the chamber, felt her husband press a reassuring hand against her back, then sighed.

     Just once. She could at least try it once.

     But how to let go? She couldn’t just- throw out a few spells here and there, she did that on a near weekly basis and it had never helped the pain. She had to let go, had to relax, and standing here being stared at expectantly by her husband, her husband’s two best friends, her biological father and his two best friends was not helping.

     With a huff, she stalked forward, her cane tapping an echoing rhythm across the floor that reverberated all the way to the top of the arched ceiling despite her light touch. She stopped in the center of the big, oval room and breathed. Well. Now what? She tapped her cane in annoyance, listened to the echo. Honestly, the chamber was practically a concert hall with those acoustics.

     “So sing,” nudged Susurrus, waking up for the first time since Regis offered the idea, “Sing your magic.”

     That’s a stupid idea, she retorted, what would I even sing? One of those bawdy drinking songs Nyx things are appropriate in my shop?

     Another nudge, a sensation of shadows touching the corners of her mind, of sand and starscapes, ocean breezes and towering trees she had never seen —not in this lifetime at least—. When Susurrus nudged again, it was with the voices of her shadows, “You have such a lovely voice, my dear. Sing it again?”

     Cyra closed her eyes and bowed her head, trying to swallow the lump that formed whenever her magic dragged up the voices-faces-lifetimes of her shadows. Her hand clutched her cane in white knuckles, and for a moment she didn’t think she could even breathe, let alone sing, and yet…

“I close … my eyes … tell us why must we suffer?”

“Release your hands, for your will drags us under.”

“My legs grow tired…”

“Tell us where must we wander?”

“How can we …. carry on,”

“If redemption’s beyond us?”

     She exhaled, inhaled. And words came flowing back, through time and memory, loss and love. She tilted her head back to the ceiling, closed her eyes to block out the world, raised her free hand and let magic flicker softly in her palm as she reached, for what she wasn’t certain, just … reached in the hope that if she did, perhaps something would reach back.

“To all of my children,” 

“In whom Life flows abundant.”

“To all of my children,”

“To whom Death hath passed his judgement…”

“The soul yearns for honor,”

“And the flesh the Hereafter.”

“Look to those, who walked before,”

“To lead those who walk after…”

     Magic sparked, dripped from her palm like raindrops and hourglass sand. Something rose in her veins and for the first time in years, she did not push it back down. It rose into the air, like embers and snowflakes on her senses, pushed her voice out to meet the echoes of past and future and present undecided.

“Shining is the Land’s light of justice,”

“Ever flows the Land’s well of purpose.”

“Walk free, walk free, walk free, believe…”

“The Land is alive … so believe…”

     There was a chant in her blood, a hundred voices in the shadows, and without even thinking her cane slammed down with each word, emphasizing another she had no breath to say. She shouted to the chamber, to the past, to the world, pushed her magic free with every declaration —every promise, long fulfilled and lost—.

     Behind her, safely by the door, Regis watched with wide eyes and trembling hands as his daughter’s magic unspooled. As soft flickers became a steady trickle, as the trickle became a stream, as the stream was tossed into the air in a spinning storm of starlight and embers that flared and grew with each angry-desperate-calling strike of her cane. He watched as the wind began to stir like a living thing, as magic built and built and built in preparation for something Regis could not name, in gleeful freedom so long denied.

     His daughter threw back her head and he glimpsed her eyes as they snapped open, a shining, twisting collage of white starlight and orange fire that mirrored and refracted in the crystalline shards flaring into existence all around.

“Now open your eyes, while our plight is repeated.”

“Still deaf to our cries,”

“Lost in hope we lie defeated!”

“Our souls have been torn,”

“And our bodies forsaken.”

“Bearing sins of the past,”

“For our future is taken.”

     Something flickered, spun through the fractals of crystalline power, formed and coalesced.

“War, born of strife, these trials persuade us not,”

     A Carbuncle, a creature of legend and myth and Messengers. It sprang into being in a burst of soft topaz fur, swirled and leaped after the twisting crystal shards with something that might have been joy and might have been fury.

“Words, without sound, these lies betray our thoughts!”

“Mired by a plague of doubt,”

“The Land, she mourns.”

     Another Carbuncle, this one a bright sapphire. It formed and sprang fearlessly onto Cyra’s outstretched arm, scurried up to drape around her shoulders in solidarity while Regis and all those with him gaped at the presence of Messengers, called down by his daughter’s magic as still it rose and unfurled —and how had she lived this long? How had she survived keeping this much power locked beneath her skin? Astrals it was little wonder she was disabled by her pain—.

“Judgement binds … all we hold,”

“To a memory of scorn.”

“Tell us why, given Life, we are meant to die,”

“Helpless in our cries?”

     Another sharp crack of the cane striking the floor, a declaration and command as she railed at the unseen sky to witness. To suffer. To borrow. To reason. Each word punctuated by a crack of her cane striking stone with enough force to shake the room, her magic towering and spiraling out to fill every corner and echo and atom of air. It reached, up and out beyond the room, and surely the Citadel itself was shaking at this point as fire trailed down her hair and shoulders like living things, as ice spiraled out in arcane patterns on the floor and clawed its way up the pillars in quest and demand. Ozone thrummed in the air, the promise of a storm too long denied and Regis was torn between terror and pride as he felt her magic reach, up and out and beyond as Cyra stretched out her free arm and demanded of the world to answer. Answer.

     Answer together.

     The world went still as something ancient stirred.

     And answered her.

     Beside him, Cyra’s husband wheezed a soft curse of disbelief and wonder as power coalesced six times over. Cyra lowered her hand, her Carbuncles wrapped protectively around her, one at her feet and one on her shoulders, her breath shaking from exhaustion as magic stilled and silence fell.

     Arrayed around her, some so large they barely fit in the chamber, the Astrals stared down at the tiny, frail mortal who had called them down.

     For an eternity, nothing moved. Nothing dared to breathe or move or think. As they could do nothing but stare at the Six, all of the Six who stood before his daughter, and watched her with expressions that on mortal faces might have been astonishment.

     Might have even been nostalgic joy.

     The Infernian moved first, a great hand touching his arm as he looked down at himself as if in surprise, and the part of Regis that was not panicking noted the spiraling scars curling across at least half of his body, dark and raw, not unlike a wound that had only just been burned free of some great infection. Then he looked down at Cyra again…

     And knelt, a fist over his heart, a soldier before a queen rather than an immortal being before a frail, bookshop owning illegitimate daughter of human kings. The Infernian’s voice was like fire and crumbling ash as he opened his mouth…

     And continued the song.

“Thy Life is a riddle…” 

     A breath and a whisper of winter cold as the Glacian folded her hands, bowed her head, and took up the song,

“To bear rapture and sorrow.”

The Archaean’s voice was ancient and steady as stone, yet soft as the hush of wind through old ruins as he too pressed a fist over his heart, and bent his massive frame —still not as large as the form seen in the Disc of Cauthess, somehow this was small enough to fit the chamber, if only barely—.

“To listen, to suffer,”

The Fulgarian echoed like far off thunder and the taste of rain as his hands folded over his staff and his lips turned upward in what could only be a smile.

“To entrust until tomorrow.”

The Hydraean’s fins stirred, her voice the rumble of tides and soft hiss of water across the sand.

“In one fleeting moment, from the Land doth Life flow…”

     All eyes swung, inevitably, disbelievingly, to the Draconian, who floated above the stones of the floor, his wings of many blades stretching out so they almost brushed the shoulders of the Archaean and the fins of the Hydraean.

     All eyes watched, as he drifted to the floor, his great sword coming to rest in front of him as his head bowed in a knight’s salute to a queen.

“Yet in one fleeting moment, for anew it doth grow….”

     A fragile silence, a greeting and a history Regis could not hope to comprehend.

     A single mortal voice, rising in answer to an unspoken greeting from the Six beings who had answered her call.

“In the same fleeting moment…”

“Thou must live … die …”

“And know…”

     And while the world looked on in uncomprehending awe, Cyra … Cyra took in a breath that for once did not twinge, took a step forward that for once held only the barest ache rather than a constant throb of pain. She was exhausted, wrung dry from truly releasing her magic for the first time in so many, many years, and yet…

     She was happy. So very, very happy.

     Cyra looked up at the Six Who Had Answered, at the wild, immortal beings she had known once a long time ago —had slain and chained and Summoned, then had turned around and taught, as best as she could, what it meant to care for the little beings that called upon them for aid and not enslave their minds and souls—. At the beings who, a lifetime ago, had been enemies and allies all at the same time.

     And she smiled. “Hello, my ducklings,” she teased with the mischief of the Warrior of Light, the nickname light on her tongue, picked centuries ago specifically to annoy the immortal creatures who both aided her battle and caused her such problems, “did you miss me?”

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Two Hundred Fifteen: Short ___ ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: A Light Amongst Shadows ] [ AO3 Link ]

For the longest time, she had no control over it. When she was young, much of her appearance was purely dictated by her father. For the few years, when her mother was given reign over her daughter’s outfits and hairstyles, Hinata was still too young to appreciate them anyway. But after Hanabi’s birth and Hanako’s death...everything concerning their mother was stripped away, too painful a reminder for Hiashi.

So, after a small time spent mourning and being too wrapped up in his own head, he ordered Hinata’s growing hair chopped to a hime cut. The same toned locks his wife had sported was just...too much to take whenever he looked at his eldest daughter. It was bad enough she had the same heart-shaped face and kind set to her eyes. So...the hair was the one thing he could control.

Short hair wasn’t too big a deal to Hinata at first. It made it all the quicker for her branch clan nanny to care for, it didn’t get in her face when running or training...it suited her just fine. So there was never any fuss whenever she was deemed ready for a new haircut. Instead, she wordlessly allowed it every time, seeing no reason to want otherwise.

Once she entered the Academy over a year after losing her mother, Hinata realized that many of the other girls had their hair longer than hers...even if not by much. At first...she was confused. Hiashi had told her that having long hair was a risk: an enemy could grab it, and hurt you! Why would anyone want to have their hair that length? And the older they got, the longer their hair grew, until those like Ino and Sakura had locks down to their back! And all the while, Hinata kept her hime cut, comforted knowing that it wouldn’t ever get in her way, or be a liability.

But then...she finally heard what all the fuss was about.

“Still growing your hair out, Forehead?” Ino asked as they met for the first day of their final year at the Academy. “Still think that just because Sasuke-kun likes long hair, he’ll notice you? He’ll be too distracted by the size of your brow to even see it!”

The rosette simply scowled. “As if Sasuke-kun could ever like someone with an attitude like yours! It stinks so bad, he’ll never get near enough to see all that hair you’ve been growing, Pig!”

“Why you -!”

From there, the conversation devolved into nothing but argument, and Hinata flinched away. Sasuke, of course, was the class heartthrob. Smart, handsome, and that silent, broody type. Apparently all of the girls found it interesting.

...and yet…

Hinata couldn’t understand it. They liked him for his quiet, cold nature...but didn’t they realize why he acted that way? He’d lost...everything. His family, his clan, his home...of course he was going to be hard to approach and distant! And they thought that was...cool, or something? How shallow…!

But at least now she knew why everyone was keeping their hair so long. All to impress a boy. Up until then, Hinata had given very little thought to her own appearance...at least, beyond keeping her outfits rather baggy. Her nanny had declared her an ‘early bloomer’...whatever that meant. But for propriety’s sake, she was encouraged to keep her wardrobe loose and covering. At that age, she really wasn’t sure why. But the notion of altering what one looked like for someone else was...strange. Hiashi had always been so strict about her appearance...was it really not normal?

The thought troubled her...but not enough, at that point, to try to change it.

Besides...she wasn’t one of the girls who chased after Sasuke. Not because she disliked him - she really didn’t have much of an opinion of him to begin with. But mostly...it was because she had her eyes on someone else. Someone who, unlike her, radiated confidence and energy. Uzumaki Naruto was a troublemaker, loudmouth, prank-pulling knucklehead. But Hinata couldn’t help but envy the way he seemed to carve his own path, not care what others thought, and simply did what he wanted to without doubt or hesitation.

So, while most of her class flocked after Sasuke...Hinata instead stared longingly after someone she knew would never notice her.

But after they graduated...things began to change for Hinata. Her team, though at first clumsy and uncoordinated, began to grow...and her along with them. She went from doubting her usefulness to her teammates to letting them bolster her, becoming determined to bloom into someone worthy of being noticed by her hero. For a few months, Hinata - slowly and surely - made progress in her goals.

...and then...Kurenai nominated them for the chūnin exams. The prospect had made her nervous, but her team was confident they would make it. And, until the third exam’s preliminaries, they did rather well for themselves.

But a roll of the dice pitted her against Neji: her branch clan cousin who hated her and her family for his father’s death, and his own sealed fate. Wanting still to progress, she refused to back down.

It almost killed her.

Then, while her heart was still recovering, Konoha was attacked by not just Oto, but Suna as well. Much of the village was left in ruins, many shinobi were killed...and the aftermath saw many of her classmates frustrated. Sasuke, many of his struggles unknown to her, fled the village. Naruto, after the failed retrieval, decided to leave with Jiraiya to train. Sakura and Ino took up apprenticeships under Tsunade.

...and Hinata realized something. She had to get stronger. Her weakness, up to that point, had cost her many things. But she had to do it on her terms. For herself. Not for Naruto, not for her father, not for anyone or anything but herself and her own determination.

So...she took up training under her cousin. And she began to let other things change. No longer did she cut her hair simply because it was expected of her. Instead, she retook the appearance that mirrored her mother so closely. It didn’t matter that Hiashi looked at her so painfully. She loved her mother, too. And she would honor her memory by relishing in how she inherited so many of her features.

By the time Naruto returned, it was nearly to her waist. Straight as an arrow, with a healthy shine. And with her taijutsu so improved, she no longer feared being taken by a grip to her locks.

An enemy would never get close enough to have the chance.

Even during the war, the lengths ran free and long. And after? Though part of her longed for a change...she refused to cut it again. Never would she go back to short hair. Even if it meant nothing to anyone else, having that heirloom of her mother brought her a kind of comfort.

And as the crossing paths of the Hyūga and Uchiha meant spending more and more time with Uchiha Sasuke, she realized...maybe his liking long hair wasn’t so bad.

Especially now, with the two of them having been going steady for several months. In the end, it wasn’t Ino’s beautiful tail of gold, or Sakura’s symbolic chopping of her hair during the exams that caught his eye. True, he saw the rest of her - the who, not the what - long before he paid her appearance any mind. But as it turns out...he really does like long hair.

...sort of.

He’s always finding excuses to run fingers through it, bury his nose in it, or even just idly play with the strands whenever they have quiet, still moments together.

“So...the Academy rumors were true?”

“Hm?”

“About you liking long hair.”

That earns a snort. “In all honesty? I didn’t have a preference. I have no idea where that came from.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“...huh…”

“But,” Sasuke then goes on, fingers threading through amethyst locks. “I do like yours.”

“...may I ask why?”

He goes quiet for a time. “...I think...it’s because it reminds me a bit of my mother’s.”

“...really…?”

“Yeah.”

After a pause, Hinata softens with a smile. “...that’s why I like it. It reminds me of my mother’s.”

“Guess we’ve got that in common. Just...please promise me you won’t ever cut it again.”

“What, you didn’t like my hime cut?”

“No, I just...like it better this way.”

“All right, all right...I promise. No more short hair.”

                                                          .oOo.

     I'm v tired so I'll be brief =w=      Just a lil drabble about Hinata's hair. While I adore her hime cut, I also like her with long hair...aaand I don't like her cut in next gen stuff. So my Hina keeps it long for Sasuke's sake x3      But uh...yeah! That's all for today~ Thanks for reading!

[crystaljins]

Translation Error

Characters: Namjoon x Reader

Word count: 1.4k

Synopsis: Turns out the word for “brain” and “engine” on Namjoon’s planet is the same. Whoops. Alien!Namjoon drabble

Notes: I’ve been watching You who Came from the Stars recently and so this is a silly, short little drabble that stemmed from a desire to write about Namjoon. I didn’t know where I was going with this lol but there’s words and they’re about Namjoon so good job to me i guess

“I need you to stay calm!” Namjoon pleads. Perhaps he is attempting some damage control but you are so far beyond calm it’s going to take more than some gentle pleading from the man in question to get you off his coffee table.

“I am calm!” You argue back even though you screech the words like he’s standing a hundred metres away rather than directly in front of you. And you are calm! As calm as you can be after discovering that the neighbour you’ve been crushing on the passed few months is an alien from a planet in a completely different solar system to you.

You hadn’t visited him with the intention to confront him over some strange happenings that followed him wherever he went that particular morning. Though there were a lot of those- first there were the weird mechanical noises and the ominous glowing from his front door when you walked past. You had thought maybe he was part of a cult but then it had gotten stranger. 

You had survived a car accident. Not that that’s a strange or unusual happening in an of itself. There are the occasional people who are fortunate. No, what was strange was how you had survived it. For you had been sure you had been in your car as it flipped through the air after being t-boned, but then in the flash of an eye, you were barely conscious in Namjoon’s arms beside your wrecked car. Had you lost consciousness and had he pulled you out? But you car had been completely written off and you should have been too. The doors had been caved in on either side too- how could a mere human have fished you out of the wreckage like that? As it stands, apart from some awful whiplash, you are alive and unharmed.

But no. You had only walked into his apartment hoping to borrow some sugar, content to leave the stranger happenings as part of the mystery that comprised Namjoon, only to find everything in his house levitating. He had come across you then and when you demanded he come clean he had told you everything, about his alien origins, about his expedition to earth for a business trip, about his malfunctioning gravity regulator that he had been in the middle of repairing when you walked in.

He had been impressed at how well you had taken everything and was incredibly relieved until you plucked a frypan that was levitating nearby from the air and leapt onto his coffee table. You hadn’t come down since and every attempt to move towards you results in you swiping said frypan wildly through the air.

“I’m admittedly not that well-versed in human emotions yet but you don’t seem calm to me!” Namjoon argues but it was the wrong thing to say because the last thing you need a reminder of in that moment is that Namjoon isn’t human. And he’s only just managed to stop you screaming repeatedly but now you return to it. The sound is piercing and painful on his sensitive alien ears. He groans and presses his forefinger and thumb against the bridge of his nose to stave off a migraine as if you are the one being unreasonable. Perhaps the continuous screaming is a bit excessive but you only just found out that he’s an alien so you feel like your reaction is warranted. Is it even possible to over react in such a situation?

“Are you going to experiment on me?” You shout, again as if he’s a hundred metres away even though with his sensitive hearing he could probably hear you whispering from five hundred metres away.

“No!” Namjoon snaps. “I’m going to do no such thing!”

“Then are you here to take over the human race? Am I the first victim in your evil plot to wipe humans from the galaxy?” You demand. He goes to take a step towards you but you wave your frying pan around to keep him at bay. He holds both hands up in surrender and does not advance.

“(Y/N), don’t be ridiculous, why would I-“ whatever rational and reasonable defence Namjoon had prepared is interrupted at that moment by the poorly timed arrival of Taehyung.

“RM, I got that brain probe like you asked!” Taehyung calls, though back home he is referred to as “V”. He waves around a pointed contraption with a bright green handle like it is a children’s toy. He spots you on the couch and his whole face lights up and he says probably the least helpful thing he could in this situation. “Are we going to wipe her memory now?”

Namjoon tries to signal to Taehyung to stop speaking before he frightens you even more, but alas, it is too late.

“B-brain probe?” You ask, and your eyes have gone very wide and you have gone deathly pale. “Y-you’re going to... my brain...” your voice goes breathy as your eyes roll into the back of your head and you promptly pass out. Your figure crumples and Namjoon only just barely manages to catch your limp form in his arms before you topple off his coffee table.

Namjoon glares at Taehyung even as he cradles you gently in his arms. Taehyung holds both hands up in surrender, a human gesture he’d picked up from the young male humans he has recently taken to hanging around.

“What?” He asks defensively, swapping to their mother tongue now that you are unconscious. “You told me to get it!”

“Not for her! I was just about to convince her we aren’t trying to wipe out her race!” Namjoon cries and they’ve been on earth for so long that his mother tongue feels almost foreign in his mouth. “Now you’ve gone and done it! What if she reports us to the authorities?”

Taehyung frowns contemplatively while brandishing the probe at Namjoon.

“We could-“ Taehyung begins but Namjoon cuts him off before he can finish his sentence.

“For the last time, it’s not for wiping memories! It’s not even a brain probe! It’s an engine probe!” Namjoon complains, swapping to the earthen language once more. It’s not really Taehyung’s fault- it was a mere translation error. The word in their language for engine and brain just so happened to be the same and so Taehyung has mistranslated. Still, it did not help their case and when you rouse a few moments later, a well-timed glare from Namjoon has Taehyung stuffing the probe into his back pocket before you can see it.

“N-Namjoon?” You ask weakly, your eyes sliding open and your long eyelashes fluttering against the apples of your cheek. Something in his biology must malfunction in that moment because a pleasant tingling sensation spreads across his entire body at the precious way in which you rasp his name. Taehyung, who can probably detect the sensation Namjoon is experiencing through his sensitive electroreceptors, restrains a gag at Namjoon’s obnoxiously obvious fondness for you. He, personally, does not see the appeal of a human woman but he supposes Namjoon has spent a much longer time in your proximity. He had claimed he was “learning the human customs” but Taehyung knows that’s a big fat lie and that Namjoon has just been making excuses to see you. His species is not known for its subtlety.

“You’re... you’re really an alien?” You ask groggily. Wincing, Namjoon nods his head, resigned to his fate. Rather than snap awake and leap back onto the coffee table like he is expecting you to, you simply raise a hand to cup his cheek. Namjoon feels something in his body warm as an unfamiliar chemical is released into the vessels that run throughout his body. 

Taehyung watches the scene unfolding him with a mixture of mild disgust and intrigue. Throughout his time on earth, he has learnt that while some humans are quite affectionate, you are not one of those. Perhaps that is why the scene before him is so fascinating? Regardless, the scraps of affection you do throw Namjoon’s way on occasion have him goofy and lovestruck for weeks after and Taehyung knows he will be dealing with the repercussions of that particular little gesture well into the new year. “You won’t hurt me?” You ask him softly, sweetly. Smiling just slightly, Namjoon nods. The dimples in his handsome face deepen and alien or not you are still crushing embarrassingly hard.

“Never.” He promises and you don’t know it but it is a strict rule and tradition in his planet to never go back on one’s words. And that isn’t the only promise he’s made you but you don’t know about most of them because he makes them under his breath whenever you do something endearing that has him a little more lovestruck than before.

Behind him, Taehyung gags once more, repulsed by the obnoxious display of affection before him.

So this was the reason Namjoon had been delaying their return home from their business trip over the past few months.