#please have only a minor issue that can heal quickly and not something you will continue to play through and make worse!!!!

[bubblegumgothglados]

This is my RACK focused judgment free primer for heavy impact play. It covers every part of the body from head to toe and at no point does it say you can’t do something just the risks of doing so. I don't normally put warnings on my posts but most of my writing is fantasy, this isn't. I'm going to talk about any number of painful deaths and heaps more ways of becoming disabled.

In this primer "you" means the one doing the hitting, "victim" is the one being hit, and "tool" is the thing you're hitting with which could be a fist, foot, hammer, bat, anything. I'm writing it this way because its fun for me.

This primer also assumes you know the different types of impacts and how they affect the body, if you don't go look at my other writings.

Finally i take no responsibility for anything you do. All this information is what i could put together from medical journals and car crash reports if I've got anything wrong (and you can prove it) please let me know.

Enjoy

Head. With hits to the head, the two major concerns are concussions and neck injuries. A concussion occurs when a person’s brain impacts with the inside of their skull, this happens because the brain is suspended in fluid so if the skull stops or starts moving suddenly the brain will move out of sync with the skull. Symptoms of concussions can include headaches, confusion, lack of coordination, memory loss, nausea, vomiting, dizziness, ringing in the ears, sleepiness, and excessive fatigue. If your victim lost consciousness for any length of time and is having trouble speaking or understanding your words, you need to get them to the ER. There is no cure for a concussion but the best treatment is pain medication and activities that won’t tax the brain to give it time to recover. There are any number of ways to damage a neck, but generally it happens when a person’s neck is moved suddenly and violently or pushed past its limit. Minor injuries should heal by themselves within a few weeks but if unlucky pain and stiffness can last months or even years. For more major injuries, physical therapy or a neck brace might be necessary but only if the pain lasts longer than a few weeks. It’s also possible to hit someone hard enough to break their neck or fracture their skull but that takes a lot of force. All of these injuries can be avoided by supporting your victim’s head and neck by bracing their head against a surface or holding their head with your hand.

Jaw. It takes surprisingly little force to dislocate a jaw, you can do so with a good slap Dislocations are talked about in Note 3 at the bottom of this primer. Heavy bleeding from gums or a tooth that feels loose could indicate a fractured root. This is a fairly minor issue and if you see a dentist quickly they should be able to fix it back in place with no lasting damage. A tooth that has been knocked out completely should survive; get your victim to rinse their mouth out and rinse the tooth off and shove it back into the gap, and then have them see a dentist to make sure it’s properly seated and avoid chewing with it for a while.

Eyes. A fun combination of fragile and complicated. There's no first aid tips I can give you and it'll be real obvious if something is wrong. I will say you don't have to hit someones eye to give them a black eye, it’s bruising around the eye socket that matters. Also check Note 1 about the use of ice when treating injuries.

Nose. It’s more difficult than you think to break a nose. You definitely can with a good punch but you'll have to really commit. A broken nose isn't that serious (I've broken mine twice now) and isn't even ER worthy. If your victim is leaning backwards after breaking their nose the blood will run down the back of their throat potentially making them vomit or very sick. There is a chance a broken nose will heal in a way that restricts breathing in which case your victim may need surgery.

Cheek bone. Below the temple but above the gum line, running from just bellow their ear to their nose. Special mention to this spot because it’s the best place to hit your victim in the head (in my opinion). This piece of bone is very sturdy and not that risky to fracture. Plus, when you hit them here they have to watch it coming.

Neck. The windpipe, jugular, cranial nerves, vagus nerve, carotid arteries, and spine all live here and damage to any of these can cause permanent disability or death. Seek medical attention if your victim has trouble breathing or swallowing, or a lot of pain or swelling. Stingy tools are far less risky here than thuddy tools.

Shoulders. Note 2 on joints. The shoulder blades can either be an ideal impact location or one of the most risky depending on how it’s sitting. If the shoulder blade is jutting out away from the rest of the back, it’s very easy to damage If it’s laying flat against the back, it’s protected by a thick layer of fat and muscle.

Biceps. Top 4 impact location. The main concern is damaging the elbow and shoulder joints, if hitting in a way that will pull on those joints. Much like with the head, bracing the impact area against a surface will minimize the risk. Repeated hits to this area can temporarily disable the arm, which is fun.

Forearm. As above, the main risk is damaging the adjoining joints. There are also several important blood vessels and nerves running through this area and not a lot of fat an muscle to protect them.

Hands. Very little fat or muscle, mostly tendons, nerves, and cartilage. See Note 2 on joints. Special note to the palm, which hurts like hell but is relatively safe because of the extra muscle and fat in that area, great for punishment. Once again, stingy tools are much less risky than thuddy tools.

Breasts/ biceps. Top 4 impact locations. Thick layers of fat, muscle, and bone protect anything vital.

Sternum. That is the bone running down the center of a person’s chest that connects to their ribs. Not in itself very fragile but the cartilage that connects it to the ribs is easily damaged and will take a long time to heal. A fractured sternum will likely cause shortness of breath and pain when taking deep breaths. There's not much to be done about these injuries just rest and avoiding strenuous activity.

Spine. The single most risky impact location. Any damage to the spine risks permanent paralysis of everything below that point. As ever, stingy tools present less risk than thuddy tools.

Rib cage. Designed to protect a person’s most vital organs, the rib cage is very strong. Fractured ribs will cause pain breathing but aren't particularly serious. Snapped ribs can pierce organs If this happens, it'll be immediately obvious and medical intervention is required to prevent painful death. Special note to the 'floating' ribs at the bottom of a persons rib cage which don't connect to the sternum and are therefore much less resilient. Second special note to the spot right above a persons heart. A significantly hard impact at exactly the wrong moment in their cardiac cycle can stop their heart. They will loose consciousness and you will need to give them CPR until they can be defibrillated. This is ridiculously unlikely but better to mention just in case.

Abdomen. If you feel around your victim’s belly, you can figure out the line where their abdominal muscles sit. If you have them tense these muscles, you can hit them fairly hard with relatively little risk because the muscles plus the fat in that area create a thick layer of protection. (Pro tip: "Stay tense or this will might kill you" is not only true but hot and terrifying). Outside of that area or if they don't tense, there's real risk of bruising or even rupturing their intestines, which carries a 50-70% survival rate depending on how quickly you can get them to the ER. Symptoms to look out for are bloating, diarrhea, loss of appetite, and fatigue. Special note to the kidneys, which sit next to the backbone just below the rib cage and are very easily bruised. The primary symptom to look for is blood when peeing. As always, stingy tools carry less risk than thuddy tools.

Gluteus maximus. That's their butt. Hit it as hard as your victim will let you. Enough has been said about this region; I don't feel the need to recover that ground. Note 4 on bruises.

Genitals. I'm not going to get into CBT, that's a separate kink. But the vagina is very durable as it’s pretty much just flesh and fat on the outside Minimal risk, go to town.

Thigh. Top 4 impact location. Outer thigh will hurt more and bruise more. As with the head and arms, the primary risk is damaging the adjoining joints. Note 4 on bruises because this is the primary place for DVT.

Calf. As above. Shins are also a great location for punishment because they hurt like hell.

Feet. Very similar to hands. The soles of a person’s foot are intended to impact with the ground frequently and with some force, so they can take a fair bit of punishment.

Note 1. Ice. It is no longer suggested injury procedure to use ice to reduce swelling. Yes, it is effective at reducing swelling but we now understand swelling is an important part of the healing process and although ice might make it feel and look better in the short term, it actually increases the amount of time the injury will take to heal. You want the blood to be able to flow to the injury to take away dead cells and bring nutrients and energy.

Note 2. Joints. Neck, spine, shoulders, elbows, wrists, fingers, hips, knees, ankles, and toes. The reason these are almost always labeled "red" or "no go" on impact play body maps is because these are choke points for blood vessels and nerves; they are made of fragile tendons and cartilage, and they have very little padding for protection. They're also important for movement day to day and very difficult to heal properly. If a joint is damaged, you can buy braces for every joint from most pharmacies.

Note 3. Dislocations. If you're lucky, a partial dislocation will relocate by itself if you move the joint around as you normally would, not forcing it or trying to manipulate it with your hand, just moving it with its own muscles. If it does naturally relocate but you still have pain a few weeks later seek a medical professional. If you're unlucky or if it’s a total dislocation, you will have to see a medical professional. DO NOT TRY TO FORCE IT BACK INTO PLACE!

Note 4. Bruises. Normally, bruises are nothing to worry about but there are situations where a deep bruise can be a health concern. If the bruise continues to get worse after a week, there could be a hematoma under the skin, which is like a blood clot, and might need to be removed. The other possible complication is Deep Vein Thrombosis, which is a blood clot and can be lethal, if not treated quickly. With DVT, the symptoms are tenderness, warmth, and a "pulling sensation" which are pretty normal impact play symptoms. But if you're doing impact play at the level that could cause DVT, then you and your victim should know their healing process intimately, so if something feels off or isn't healing right, get them to a medical professional; better safe than dead.

[yumecel]

the slowest death 💙

yandere!dabi/reader | 1.6k

summary: you didn’t even think the PLF would bother tracking you down. one member proves you wrong

character specifics: slightly ooc for fic purposes i suppose

reader specifics: gn reader

world specifics: probably a far longer gap from dabis video to the war arc than is canon? sorry for any inaccuracies of living under the PLF i wasnt paying attention

tws: stalking, mention of murder via burning, dabi being a creep

a/n: christening this blog with the man thats been driving me wild recently. im so rusty! please forgive me

——💙——

i promise i’m 18+, i promise i’m okay with seeing dark content, i know this will haunt me in the world to come should i lie [yes⬇️] [no↩️]

You can’t stop seeing him.

Skulking into street corners, under flickering lamps, your peripheral vision, all permeated with the silhouette of a man you only expect to see on screens. When you close your eyes, he persists as an afterimage. Blue eyes burn into yours.

You’ve been having trouble sleeping.

Sometimes you lock yourself in your bathroom to watch that video of him, Dabi- now confirmed as Touya Todoroki. You drag your laptop with you and you search up information about him, trying to keep track of his current movements to confirm your suspicions. It feels like there’s eyes everywhere. It feels like he’s everywhere.

It’s not like you haven’t seen him up close before. You think that’s why this is probably happening. Months prior, under the direction of the Paranormal Liberation Front, you’d used your quirk on him- you’d cupped his cheek gently and allowed the soothing water to roll over it, clearing away a minor burn that was nothing compared to the rest of his scars. You remember it vividly because he closed his eyes. That’s not the issue, many people do, but you almost couldn’t believe the expression of tranquility that crossed his face. On the screens, in leaked footage, Dabi often presents himself with a chilling calmness or a maniacal grin. The total relaxation of his features and the removal of defences was foreign. And when it happened, you’d observed closely. Every piercing, every staple, every mark. You just happen to like observing the effects of your quirk on other people, and Dabi was no exception. When it was over, he’d murmured something barely discernible as a “thanks” and walked off. You thought his back would be the last you’d see of him in person, save for a few brief appearances with other PLF members. But he kept coming back to you, minor burn after minor burn, cut, scrape, bruise. He hardly ever talked, but he was so bold. He laid his head in your lap and there was an unspoken understanding that taking advantage of this vulnerability would result in dire consequences for you. Dabi always ensured his absolute privacy before settling down, and you believe you became something of a refuge for him. But you didn’t think there was anything special about you save for convenience, and you certainly had more “regulars” than just him. Dabi didn’t appear to be particularly attached to you as a person so much as your quirk.

Your clientele eventually died, perhaps literally, perhaps they just stopped coming after finding another healer, leaving only Dabi asking for your services. To make money and a future, you had to move, and you did so quickly and without fanfare. You were planning to leave that chapter of your life behind entirely.

But Dabi keeps haunting you.

You think you’re wrong. You should be wrong. You don’t know if you’re wrong.

It’s true that you’re technically on the run from the PLF, but you didn’t believe they would be particularly keen to expend effort on tracking you down. You are after all, only a healer, and have no specific abilities to boost other quirks. Quirks that soothe others can be found everywhere and you doubt they’d struggle tracking down more like them, and there’s already an abundance of regular doctors at their fingertips. Your ability to both soothe and heal is something that can be replaced easily enough.

Put simply, the costs of capturing you far outweigh the costs of letting you run free. The PLF knows they manage secrecy fairly well. They have nothing to worry about.

So when Dabi started lurking around the edges of your vision, you thought-

“They’re going to make an example of me.”

That could be the only reason. Being killed by Dabi is complete overkill. Your quirk may involve water but you don’t stand a chance against quelling his flames. There would be no epic fight, and you’re fully aware that engaging with him would lead to your death within five minutes. That’s if he grants you the mercy of a quick death. There’s nothing holding him back from prolonging your suffering for hours, even days. You shudder every time you think about it, a million ways he could kill you flashing before your eyes.

He doesn’t kill you quite yet. He’s toying with you.

The inside of your shabby apartment starts looking substantially shabbier. He must be letting himself in regularly. Somehow, somehow he has obtained a key, and now he’s snooping around. You accept that death awaits… for the first week, at least. Perhaps he’ll find you have nothing of interest to the PLF and leave. All you do is keep living as normal, praying some great distraction for him will arise and this will pass. Every day, you show up to work- a small, urban spa where you’re free to offer your services of pain relief under the guise of massage, never disclosing openly that you’re using your quirk. It’s custom to do so if you don’t want to draw attention to yourself, but clients generally know through word-of-mouth that quirks are used. The additional layer of protection was meant to shield you from the PLF, but it all seems useless now.

You can hear your phone buzz as you massage a client’s back. You try to pretend it never happened, and she seems undisturbed. You wonder what it could be, since after clearing your phone very few people have your new contact details. You manage to check it once the client shuffles out the door, thanking you airily.

It’s an email. The subject matter reads, “Hi Sweetheart!”

Spam.

But you still open it.

——————

Subject: Hi Sweetheart!

I really couldn’t resist digging around your laptop today. Imagine how flattered I felt when I saw all your previous searches had to do with me. Curious, are we? I can just imagine your scared little face as you scroll through videos of me, wondering when you’ll see me again. I guess what I found cute is that you have my confession video bookmarked. Did you save it for… personal reasons? You had plenty of time to look at me without a shirt on when you were working. I guess you can’t get enough of me.

But I can’t act like I wouldn’t do the same if you were someone I could just look up online- but I’m a good researcher without the internet. I tracked you down without a lot of effort. And I’ve been learning so much about you recently. So much that I’ve reached a dead end. There are things I need to know about you that wouldn’t be found on your laptop or in your apartment…

Maybe I’ll see you when you get home.

You know who I am.

——————

Feeling sick to your stomach, you scroll up, thumb trembling.

It’s sent from your own email address.

——💙——

You don’t have anywhere to go but your apartment, yet returning to it feels like such a stupid move. The police, let alone pro heroes, hardly go to that part of town. You stay an hour longer at the spa. You hope this will throw off Dabi, allowing you to dive in, grab your stuff, and equip yourself to leave forever. The passiveness that came with being a sitting duck has left your body. Confronted with death, you know it’s time to fight for survival.

Your phone buzzes again.

Another email.

——————

Subject: I won’t hurt you

You think I don’t know where you work? I can just as easily come to you and torch the place. I’m willing to play nice, so don’t insist on being difficult.

——————

A coworker remarks that you look sickly and insists you go home. You nod slowly, not saying much as you start to get ready to leave. When you stumble out of the door, the bell above you sounds like it’s ringing several rooms away. Nothing feels real.

Buzz.

——————

Subject: You can email me too

You know that right?

Still holing yourself up in that spa? Need me to walk you home? Coming home?

——————

You send one to yourself.

——————

Subject: Im on my way

[No body text]

——————

Buzz.

——————

Subject: Good.

[No body text]

——————

——💙——

You don’t bother putting your keys in the door. It opens regardless. With a dry mouth, you swallow, looking around and taking tentative steps further into your apartment.

He deliberately approaches from behind, which you were expecting, but you still yelp out when his warm presence meets your back, arms wrapping around you.

“No ‘Honey, I’m home’?” He snickers. You don’t struggle. You freeze, breath caught in your throat. When he holds you a little tighter, it’s like he pushes you over the edge.

“I’m sorry,” You begin. “I can come back. Are you going to kill me? Please don’t kill me. I can tell you anything you need. I don’t know what I can offer you, if, if you want to stay here, I can-“

He squeezes tighter, making a gentle shushing sound. Your body starts to feel like dead weight. You look down, eyeing the scars on his hands and counting staples in an attempt to ground yourself back in reality.

“It’s not about leaving the PLF, doll. Y’understand?”

You nod frantically, shoulders raising, even if you don’t fully understand. He loosens his hold on you on a little, before coming so close to your ear that you can feel his hot breath.

“It’s about leaving me.”

“Leaving you?” You say, voice barely managing to come out.

“You think I wouldn’t miss my favourite healer?” He croons.

“I…” You begin. “… everyone left. I couldn’t make money and I didn’t have prospects.”

“You’re welcome,” He says, inhaling slightly. “I took care of everyone else.”

“That’s…”

Ominous.

“But you just had to leave, right? Before I snapped you up for myself permanently? Before I got to know you better?”

“I’m- I’m not-“

“Shh, doll. I don’t want those hands on anyone but me from now on. Start packing your necessities and get ready to come home.”

He releases you, causing you to fall to your knees with a dull thud. You were at the mercy of the man behind you.

This, you realised, was the slowest death you could die.

[faroreswinds]

With the Tears of the Kingdom previews out, I took a gander at general reactions on Reddit. Why? I don’t know, I must hate myself. 

I also actively despise Zelda Youtubers so I don’t want to go there and read Youtube comments. 

I have been surprised by the number of negative comments after the previews. I figured this would go over really well, since Freedom TM seems to be popular theses days in your gameplay. With the overwhelming success of BotW, I figured more would be welcomed. 

But no, there are quite a few people who don’t like what they see. r/Games, for instance, has this thread where many people express that they aren’t sure if they really like the direction Zelda is heading now. As if it is really going too far. r/NintendoSwitch also has this thread where similar sentiments are shared. Of course, r/truezelda, r/tearsofthekingdom and r/Zelda share similar sentiments from time to time, but as they are Zelda subreddits, these fans are drowned out as haters or trolls. 

Now below the cut are some minor spoiler stuff. I will be hiding it for those who are keeping themselves spoiler free entirely.

You have been warned. There are gameplay spoilers below. 

Personally myself, I’m am not entirely pleased either. I already do not like this Princess Zelda or Link. I do not really like this Hyrule. I only really like Riju and Sidon. And I can tell you that the story will not be my cup of tea. It’s er... it’s going to be something.

Of course I will play the game and judge it accordingly. But first impressions have not been great. I can fuse a mushroom to my shield? Technically impressive, but not really want I wanted. I can craft vehicles? Looks dumb, I don’t want rockets or shit in my fantasy video game. 

Actual bombs being back is great though. Well, bomb flowers, but close enough, those are a classic. I also really think being able to bring Sidon on my adventure will be fun as well. Not... happy about Tulin though. He’s an annoying little kid, and frankly I don’t get the appeal. 

The new menu design looks both great and terrible. It’s ugly on the eyes, like really ugly. But there are some clear improvements in function. 

Not a fan of all the menu-ing you will have to do. Apparently, you have to go into a menu every time you want to fuse something to your arrow. No bulk fusing that we know of yet. That is a serious design flaw if true. Menu-ing also breaks up the flow of combat, and if I can just open a menu and dick around with the items to put a flamethrower on my shield, then there will be a lot of time spent in menus while in combat. 

Speaking of menus, they have not fixed the healing system. It still functions the same. Pause, eat as much as you want, continue battle. Lame. They did make some changes, but not in the way that enhances combat. 

First of all, you can cook anywhere with a new item (one time use though). This was never an issue. The real issue was never being able to cook in bulk, but one at a time, making it a tedious wait time of watching the same animations over and over again. 

Second, there is now a recipe book. Great, but unless hearty foods are no longer in the game I can promise you I will not be cooking much. I will make the most simple shit that is effective, not try to see what fun recipes I can make. Who cares if I can make cake if it only heals me 5 heart, when a fish with a hearty turnip will heal me thirty? But people asked for a recipe book, so I’m not necessarily mad that it is there. 

I also want to touch quickly on durability and ultrahand. Durability, of course, is back. Urg. But they tried to “fix” it by making it so you can fuse items together to make it more durable. Cool. But it’s still breakable. 

And apparently, you can just unfuse the item and then refuse it with something else to keep it even longer. This is essentially resetting durability. If this is true, then it is effectively no durability with extra, tedious steps. 

In fact, this whole game looks like a lot of tedium. 

As for ultrahand, there is apparently a skill that allows you to save past builds. You can then autobuild them instantly if you have the right items. Great idea, except did we really have to waste a skill slot for this? Apparently it is a later game skill. If true, this means that any early builds you make will be unable to be saved. Nintendo wanted to keep this skill a secret for some reason. Honestly, I have no idea why. It’s not like that it is worth keep private. It’s a QoL feature that people should probably know about. 

My guess is that they don’t want to discourage people from experimenting early on. If people can save their builds right away, they will just keep their early builds and continue to adjust them till they end the game, rather than continuing trying new things. And if you know there is a save feature you get later, you might be discouraged to try making things early since you cannot keep the schematics around. 

This is lame if true, though. 

There are effectively “8″ skills Link can use. I use the number “8″ loosely. It’s not really 8 skills, but rather 4 skills, 1 expanded feature on another skill, and 1 amiibo skill. 

Ultrahand - Link can pick up and move anything, and put them together in any configuration he would like

Fuse - Take up to two items and fuse them together like glue

Ascend - Go through ceilings and some enemies like water and reach the top

Recall - Turn back time on an object so it returns to its original position. 

These are the known, unique skills. Then we have

Autobuild - Quickly build past builds if you have the parts. This is essentially a save feature for Ultrahand

Amiibo - Literally just the amiibo skill, similar to the amiibo rune from Botw. 

Finally, we have two mysterious skills

Compass-thing - Some weird compass-looking green icon. It’s probably a tracking feature, but we do not know it’s purpose yet. 

Blank - We honestly don’t know what this could be. Could be a camera skill. Could be a secondary feature to one of the main 4 features. We just have no clue at all. 

Effectively, these are rune replacements. Ultrahand + Autobuild is just Magnesis but better. Recall is Statis but instead of freezing an object, you make it go in reverse into it’s original position. Amiibo is amiibo. 

Ascend is basically Revali’s Gale but through rock instead of the air. Fuse is entirely new. However, Ascend has some great exploration potential. Maybe I can find an air pocket in a cave with treasure. Hopefully, though, that treasure will be worth it and not some stupid consumable sword. 

The bomb runes and Cryonsis are entirely gone. The bombs have been replaced with bomb flowers as a consumable item now. So no more remote bombs, round or square. Cryonsis could have a similar skill that is that missing blank skill, but I suspect they want players to use the Ultrahand system, and make ships and the like. Cryonsis would remove the need to do this, so it has to go. 

Most of these skills are entirely focused on the sandbox-style of BotW. I am not a particular fan of sandbox games, and it saddens me that this is the direction Zelda seems to be going. It was fine for a single game, but I had hoped for a more cultured, straight-forward experience in future installments. I figured Totk would still value freedom to the player, but it doubled down in ways I was hoping it would not. 

The only real “combat” skills are maybe Fuse and Recall. Fuse because of making weapons better. Recall because you can make rolling stones hit enemies or the like.

But calling them real “combat” skills is a stretch. They don’t really actually do combat, but rather craft the necessary items to create a combat experience. I’m hoping that like BotW, we get more “combat” skills like Urbosa’s Fury (unless they didn’t add stuff like this because they want to player to interact with the fusing system). 

I am worried about the size of the map. BotW ran pretty ok, but it still had issues. This is a bigger game, with a LOT more going on. Honestly, it seems too ambitious for a Switch game. My super powerful PC sometimes struggles to play Elden Ring, and a little Switch will seamlessly play the biggest Zelda game of all time? When it couldn’t even get a small title like Link’s Awakening to play smoothly? I’m skeptical. 

And with the map size so big, I feel like this will be a one and done game for me. I’m a lot older now, and exploring large maps are only fun once. After the first time, it’s too overwhelming to try it again. I love Elden Ring, but it’s 30 square mile map keeps me from wanting to do another thorough playthrough again. I am actually replying it, but I plan to skip a lot. 

When it came to BotW’s map, it is so large but empty of meaningful content that I don’t have it in me to roam around just for the reason of roaming around. I need goals, that come with real, tangible rewards at the end. Now we are getting the map again (which was already 22 square miles) plus the sky PLUS underground stuff. That is a lot of land. How can you fill all that with meaningful content you want to do again and again? This could be potentially bigger than Elden Ring’s map. And Elden Ring’s map is really big. It’s starting to all get too big for me. 

Also, Korok seeds are back. Urg. Why? I don’t want them. Can we not figure out another means to fill the world with content besides more Korok seeds? 

However, and this might sound a bit callous... but I look forward to the future “BotW” versus “Totk” fights.

Already it’s happening. Fans wondering if Totk will completely invalidate the experience BotW offered. Totk looks richer, fuller. It’s larger. It looks like it has a better story. NPC companions, probably better side quests, lots of crafting, and hopefully better dungeons! 

I have no leg in this fight because I love MM and MM is not the most favorite Zelda game in the series among fans. I don’t particularly enjoy the direction Zelda is going, both in lore and gameplay. Seeing people argue about which game will be the better Zelda experience, BotW or Totk, will be quite funny to me. 

To end on a positive note, the Sky Islands we did see do look quite beautiful. I look forward to see these beautiful lands. 

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Beyond the Blood Tie - Chapter Three.

I felt like moving the story along a little bit, so here we are. Who’s ready to meet Angel properly? Don’t get too close to him, though. We know he isn’t hospitable... :p If you’re enjoying it, do drop me a comment, or offer a reblog. Help your struggling author a bit! 

Previous Chapters - One  Two, Part One Part Two

Words - 5,479

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI!

Angel's POV

"Well, I think Edie made her point. I'll leave you to do what is best for you, which is to calm the fuck down and take your punishment like a damned man, son." The big, bald one they call Wilson tells me as he undoes my remaining severed arm from the chain beside me and carries it as well as the other with him from the room as he leaves. Son. He has a fucking nerve, being that I have an approximate seventy or so years on him.  

Large, insolent bald guy aside, I have to say, I found that really entertaining, the severity of my punisher’s reaction to me biting her. Painful, but entertaining, as it honestly wasn't what I was expecting, and I get the measure of humans very quickly. Ursula taught me really fucking well. I didn't predict the ferociousness of her reaction, and I gotta be real and admit it; it impressed me. It doesn't mean she's won, though, although it does mean that she'll be on her guard over me trying the same trick again. Not that I could have the same end result, now they’re shackled me to the damned floor. Bastards.  

I didn't want to feed on her, merely have just one drop of her blood, because that is all it took to have what I do now. My plan worked, and now I have what is known as a blood tie. I can feel her emotions, because my blood now runs through her veins, since I bit my lip seconds before biting her. That was my sole intention in getting her to come close to me, it wasn't just to attack her for the sake of it. Well, maybe a little. I'm hungry, and because of that I'm not healing quickly. The silver scorching my throat and ankles as I hang here without arms will not heal or let up until the contact breaks, and all the welts and cuts being punched with silver knuckle dusters have left me with will not heal like they should. It ain’t a good time to be Angel Reyes right now, guys.  

This is, of course, what they deem to be a punishment for what I did, a crime I still do not see why I have to be reprimanded for at all. They intruded on my property, they were the ones after my blood, and they were the ones who shot two of my wolves dead when I emphatically fucking stated they wouldn't harm them. Sure, Astrid and Stellar both stood baring their teeth, growling with their hackles raised, but they would have only stuck on my command. I didn't give them that command, and yet he still killed them.  

I'm not a vampire who goes around attacking humans for the sake of it. In fact, I don't mind humans at all. I don't like a lot of them, but ones I can see something interesting within I have no issues with. I still much prefer the company of my own kind, though, and don’t go out of my way to socialise with the living. Not even for sex any longer, but that’s another story entirely. I might tell you one day, if you're lucky.

Being stuck here for two months is nothing really, when I consider it. I'm a hundred and thirty-six years old, and if I play my cards right, I’ll have many hundreds and thousands of years ahead of me, too. Time just doesn't have the same bearing upon us as it does the living. Two months to me is like two days to a human. Not long at all. I know I’m gonna suffer it, though, with whatever the most aggressive punishment Edie decides to inflict upon me, being made to sleep standing up bound in silver and starved of my usual intake of blood. I can't even sleep properly if I'm honest, I just go into shutdown mode. We vampires can do that, we just stop and turn ourselves off from all around us, staring vacantly without blinking until we want to be roused.

One thing that is particularly hard is feeling the sadness in Ursula, as I of course can since she is my creator. She's like a mom to me, and sometimes, I do refer to her as that. Some vampires leave their creator and the two don't see each other for centuries, and some stay with them. I've never been away from her, and I don’t fucking like that the first time I am, it isn’t through choice. Also, I do not like being away from Charles and EZ either, the other two members of my vampire family, or Icarus and Thor. They'll want to know where their sisters are still. I'd buried their bodies before they arrived home with EZ on that fateful night. They'll now also want to know where I am.  

Oh, god fucking damnit, how boring and painful this is. The pain I can withstand, but the boredom might prove more of an issue to deal with. Staring at a steel enforced wall will not sate my turning mind, my need for some kind of occupying stimulus. I was much like this as a human, and certain traits you had as a person do get carried over when you become a vampire. Restlessness was one of them for me. In all my time as a vampire, I have never done anything that wasn't something I wanted to do, and other than for my creator, I’ve never bent to anyone's will. Being here now, I feel angry and weakened, almost ashamed of what has happened to me at the hands of mere humans. I did not deserve this.

I've always liked being a vampire. Well, I have from the point I got used to it. It isn't easy, to go through the change from mortal human to immortal creature. It hurts to feel your own body dying while the soul within you stays intact, bonding itself to the dead, yet inexplicably enchanted corpse that is you forevermore. Granted, it definitely wasn't something I ever envisaged happening to me, but with the alternative I was presented with at the time it happened, vampirism was preferable. When the virus broke out, the MC I used to be a member of was off on a run, and only two of us eventually made it home.  

Massive quarantine stations were set up, and we were confined to one of them along the route we were taking to get back from Northern Cali to Santo Padre. It was so massively widespread though, that people began getting sick all around us. The first member of our club to succumb to it was our VP, Taza, taken out on a stretcher never to be seen again. The second was Gilly, and by the time the rest of us were moved on, our president, Bishop, too. Coco vanished one night and never returned, yet none of the people within the quarantine station could tell us what happened with him. We think he probably called bullshit on it and left. Seems like something he would have done.  

EZ, Creeper, Hank, Riz and I were all checked by doctors and told we were clean of the virus, so were carefully moved on into a smaller quarantine area. This was before it began spreading as heavily as it did, when things were still working. However, the rate that it spread at was staggering. The quarantine areas began to become infected too, more dead rising. The guys and I all decided we'd be better fending for ourselves, so escaped the centre and tried to find a place away from the rapidly growing carnage to hide away for safety. We found an abandoned house and made camp there.

We made it a week, a week until one of the reanimated found us and in the take down, Riz and Hank became infected by bites, the most common way it was spread. Riz died pretty quickly, and Hank didn't even wait for the virus to manifest. He left us a note and told us he'd thrown himself off a bridge, that he didn't want us to have to deal with him the sicker he got, and then have to witness him turn into a zombie and endanger us. Creeper went out on a run one day and never came back, and when we went out looking for him, we found him, scratching around, reanimated. It was fucked up, man, I can tell you.

I still miss them all. I lost everyone other than EZ to the disaster, same as many thousands of people did, too. Entire families were wiped out within a blink. Our mom died before it happened, but our dad, we just don’t know. We eventually looked for him, but he’d vanished completely. Same as my son, Maverick, and girlfriend, Luisa. She was so fucking tough, I expected her to have survived, but unless she was really well hidden, she and my boy, they’d vanished as well. It was a bitter pill to swallow, knowing they were very likely dead.  

Anyway, back to before then, when we’d just found Creeper in his reanimated state. From then on it was just EZ and me as things began to shut down the country over, more people were dead (or rather walking dead) and America ground to a halt. Before the total blackout of power and media coverage, we learned Europe had been hit too. It was fucking unbelievable, like a nightmare that never ended. We eventually made it back to Santo Padre, that’s when we were searching for our family, who weren’t anywhere to be found, as I just detailed.

Obviously, our spirits were low and it was a struggle, to carry on after that, yet we did. Basic survival takes over at such a time, not that we were surviving as humans for much longer. About two months after the disaster broke, we were walking back to the house we'd barricaded ourselves into (climbing in and out via a high window, using a rope that the reanimated didn't have the co-ordination skills to climb) after going out to fetch more supplies, when we were approached by two figures literally out of nowhere. Those two figures were Charles and Ursula. They asked us if there was somewhere we could go away from the roving dead to talk, and just before we were about to say yes, something completely unbelievable happened.

As if things hadn't been bad enough up until that point, the two people we had thought to be normal suddenly grew very big teeth and moved faster than our eyes could detect to kill four oncoming the reanimated with some damn scary skills. Fuck, they just decimated them, I remember it so clearly. What they basically explained to us when we arrived back at the house was that they were vampires, and they were the only beings capable of killing off the dead quickly and efficiently, but in comparison to said dead, their numbers were low. That was why they were in Santo Pardre, teaming up with some of their vampire friends from over the boarder to try and thin out the dead.  

They said they'd been watching us for a number of nights from the house opposite and that they'd thought we'd make excellent vampires with how resourceful we were, and how brave they considered us to be for fighting off the reanimated. We raided a gun store and liberated enough weaponry to be more than just well-armed. We found shooting them in the head worked very well, but the only problem was the gunshots made noise, and noise drew them in from all around. Decapitation was the next best thing, much quieter too. Machetes were sought, and heads rolled. It was kinda fun, actually.  

They let us think it over, or more rather recover from the shock of finding out the fabled creatures we'd only ever encountered in books and movies were real for a few days before we had to make a choice. We both toyed with the idea for many, many hours, tossing around the argumentative pros and cons for each course of action. Stay human and possibly perish, live a miserable existence in a desolate and ruined country, or become immortal and see past this to go on and live for many centuries beyond it, too. We figured we'd lost everything already, what else had we to lose? Well, our humanity was the first thing to go as soon as we were made.  

To regain some of your humanity again is what EZ and I have always been taught by our creators is of the most imperative importance. They disciplined us well for the first one hundred years, but let us let blow off a hell of a lot of baby vampire steam as well. It's expected of you almost, to enjoy your new found dead all you can, because let me tell you, being a vampire, you feel shit so incredibly more intensely than you did as a human. There’s a reason why humans get high as fuck off of our blood.  

Anyway, I digress. When a vampire reaches one hundred years old, they begin to mature and calm down, and that is when they really begin to find a little more of their humanity again. Don't get me wrong, we don't become soft, we just get a little more poised, tolerant, and a little wiser as well. We also settle into our vampirism. EZ is doing good with it, but, well, I’m a little different. I was always the problem child, though. Some things never change.

As I've stated, I don't really have that much of an issue with humans, but I do have a problem controlling myself around them when certain emotions are stirred within me. That is the part of this humanity I'm trying to find again, one that I struggle greatly with. It happens, I'm no rarity. I know I'm a strain on Ursula though, so for that alone I really gotta try harder, instead of wearing her patience so thin. Even though this is my first time being punished, I have killed before. I have killed many times, but not for the reason you probably think. Vampires do not need to drain a body dry in order to feed to our necessity. Just half a pint of your blood is all we need take, unless we get greedy. When I drained those two useless sacks of sinew, blood and guts trespassing on my property, I got greedy.

"Urrrgh, man. So, this is the unpleasant feeling Charles described in such graphic detail to me." I mutter, while turning to look at each of my shoulders to see bone beginning to knit back together and form again. He lost a leg once, and told me all about it in extremely vivid detail. This is going to take its time, and already it’s fucking uncomfortable as hell to go through. That bitch assed punisher. Fuck her.  

Oh well, at least they'll grow back. Then I can have the delightful fantasy of throttling the little blonde bitch who did this to me feel all the more real with two hands to flex at the thought of doing just that, wrapping them around her neck and choking her. Impressed at her venom I may have been, but she still strikes no feelings of mercy or anything remotely resembling tolerance within me. She may just be doing her job, but I can entertain myself by making that as difficult for her as possible. Hell, I gotta have something to amuse myself with down here.  

Edie's POV

"See, see there? Look at that, he's got his heels on the back loops of the chains. Now look, he's moving his feet ever so slightly to make the loops surrounding his ankles move forward so they'd shake down over his feet, and eventually that's how he freed 'em. Wasn't all Edie's fault, he's a sneaky one. A sneaky one with a massively high pain threshold to do that, because silver on them is like hydrochloric acid times ten on us, so they usually keep still," Aileen announces to the room in her broad Mississippi accent after examining the disc playback of the video footage just prior to my attack, and showing her observances to all present.  

It happened twenty minutes ago, and in those twenty minutes I've smoked about eight cigarettes one after the other to calm my adrenaline down. We're not allowed to be under the influence of any drugs or alcohol while on the job, or right now I'd be reaching for Aileen's ever present hip flask. She's a remarkable woman with a sharp eye, concealed behind very large, thin rimmed glasses. A remarkable woman who also only has one arm, nine kids and what could be considered a slight drinking problem, but she's awesome nonetheless. I'm beginning to think there's some kind of missing body part club going on around here. Ahmed with one eye, and Aileen with only one arm. I hope to god I'm not next!

"I still got too close to him, Aileen. I played right into his hands, regardless of the fact that not five minutes before, Wilson had warned me about that very thing. I'm an idiot," I lament, shaking my head and rubbing my now fully healed shoulder. If you apply vampire blood to a wound it heals up virtually instantly, and Miss Botts, who is the overseeing vampire here, offered to prick her finger on a fang and assist my healing by allowing me a few drops of her blood. I chose that over being stitched up, something I'm actually a little uneasy about. The very thought of skin being sewn, bleurgh, it grosses me out. She also informed me that she very much doubted he attacked out of pure malice, and that he probably did it for a purpose.

That purpose would be to apparently to form something called a blood tie with me, meaning he'll be able to pick up on my emotions since his blood is within me (she suspects he nicked himself on a fang and bled into my wound) and in turn, since by blood is now within him, I might pick up on little flashes of his own moods and feelings, too. According to her, I also could feel these a little more intensely than he will pick up on mine, because of the effect vampire blood has on humans.  

She couldn't tell me what to expect, since no one can gauge how much of his blood dripped into my wound. The way it had partially begun to heal within, so she told me when she saw it, well it looks likely it was a fair amount. I can't say I'm happy about the fact he'll be able to feel what I need to hide from him, my inner feelings. In fact, I'm pissed off to fuck about it.

"It was a rookie mistake, my girl. You know better now, and you'll not do the same thing again now we've got him fully locked down. I still can't believe he wriggled his feet free, never seen one do that before.” Aileen shakes her head in amazement, reaching out and patting my hand as she smiles her lopsided smile at me, half her face almost hidden beneath the big trucker cap that is ever present upon her head.

Wilson then pipes up, adding his own two cents. "I ain’t ever seen that either, but apparently if they've an older creator who lets them feed from them, then it bolsters their tolerance and strength, so he's probably all pumped up on ancient blood still. Apparently, she went in to see him before he got took down here, so I bet she let him feed from her and that's why he's been such a crazy fucker since he got here. Edie, I want you to take as long as you need. What you did to him will suffice enough tonight, but after you’ve finished your coffee, go in with Ahmed and work on the guy he has in with him. I'm not risking you returning to the vampire this shift.”

"Ahh, the blood of their creator. That’s the only dead blood they can drink. Yup, I reckon you've called that one out correctly," Aileen quickly tells him before spit my own reply.

"Fuck that, I'm only a half hour into my shift. I'm going back in, as long as Miss Botts here says he's fit enough then I'm returning to finish. I have to, Wilson," I plead, looking over to the immaculately turned-out vampire with the pinned up black hair and poppy red lips.

"Considering what he did to you, I shall allow it. I must insist upon you not severing any more of his limbs though, or he will not be able to replenish them," she replies with a stiff nod, looking at me a little coldly. I can't say I blame her, since I just butchered one of her kind. At least she does see he deserved it, though.

"Edie, I just don't think…" is as far as Wilson gets before Aileen cuts him up.

"Wilson, I'm tellin' y’all, she'll be fine. Can I ask for just a few minutes alone to talk to her?" He exchanges a look with me and then Ahmed, my nod giving them the go ahead to leave the room, as well as the female vampire, just Aileen and I remaining within.

"Listen up, gal. I know you've got balls, you're going back in there just like a thrown rider gets back on his horse again, but there's a few things I can tell you that'll help. Those things would be as follows. Whenever a vampire is talking to you who you know is an adversary, they ain’t ever just making conversation. They're figuring you out, and they're luring you in. Everything they ask has an agenda behind it that you won't guess. They know how to press your buttons. Whenever he speaks to you, don't talk back. It'll give less away, and piss him off all at the same time. They hate being ignored; it really pissed them off because they see themselves as so superior to us.  

“When you go back in there, you gotta watch that body language, too. I could see you trying, but you still made little gestures he picked up on. You've gotta be cool, still if you will. Totally poised like they are, so mimic him. They never give anything away, neither should you. You'll be fine, though. I mean come on, you went back in there and buried a hatchet in him until he had no arms. Good game," she tells me at length, wildly gesticulating throughout, winking and lighting one of her lethal filterless Camel cigarettes, knocking the pack across the coffee cup-stained table to me.

"I like that idea, not speaking to him. That could make it a whole lot more entertaining for me too, seeing him becoming more frustrated at me not answering him. Thanks, Aileen," I nod, reaching out and giving her arm a squeeze.

"No problem sugar, just giving you the benefit of my experience since my Trudi will insist on dating 'em.” Her words are delivered with a partially pissed off snort, referring to her twenty-two-year-old eldest daughter.  

She's very learned on the subject of vampires, choosing to educate herself about them rather than follow suit with her husband and be ignorant and dismissive. She still doesn't much like them, but if Trudi is happy, then she's happy, as Aileen herself says. "You know, he reminds me of someone, that vampire down there. I remember this feisty gal we had one time, who kicked Kim straight in the face before she could even begin punishing her." She then adds, looking around the room in an absent kind of way before her eyes roll over to me and she begins to grin, laughing that crazy laugh she has. There was a comedienne back in the old days called Phyllis Diller who I've seen on the internet. That's exactly who Aileen laughs like.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I mutter, taking a drag on my cigarette as Aileen just laughs more, quenching her rasp with a few slugs of whiskey from her hip flask soon after.

"He's a cocky little shit who needs some sense whacking into him, just like you were," she reminds me, taking another drag on her cigarette after placing her flask down. I did, she's absolutely right. I was a little punk who needed steering in the right direction. I still thank my since retired punisher Kim for that. She stopped her job when she and her then boyfriend decided to have children. She's a happily married mommy of three now. That'll never happen with me, because I don't want kids. I don't dislike them or anything, but I just don’t have the maternal desire to be a mother. Also, the thought of childbirth horrifies me. Some of the stories Aileen told me about the nine times she's gone through it, yikes.

"Well, this former cocky little shit is going to get back to it. Thanks for the chat, Aileen.” I’m met with that lovely, lopsided grin again, Alieen thumbing her glasses back up her nose.  

"Just remember, I got my eye on you." She winks, nodding sagely before turning back to the monitors. I leave the control room and head back to my chamber, this time not pausing for a second before striding in and slamming the door behind me, heading over to the table and feeling the eyes of the vampire on me. I refuse to even acknowledge him by his name, even though I know he's called Angel. He's just 'the vampire' to me.

"Ahhh, she's back. Just when I'd begun to miss her," he drawls languidly, like he can't really be bothered to even speak. They all have that casualness about their voice, that slight something to their tone that makes it seem they'd rather be doing anything than talking to you. They have patronisation down to a fine art. Just like Aileen advised me though, I don't reply.

"How long are you going to ignore me for, Edie?" I hate the way he speaks my name. I hate it because it sounds really nice on his voice, I must confess. I don't give him a reply, though. Instead, I take the can of liquid silver from my belt and walk right on over to him. This time my heartbeat is as calm as the steadiest pendulum in the world, beating in my chest with a slow, even rhythm.

"Open your mouth," I order him when I arrive in front of him.

"Will you put your tongue in it if I do?" He winks, grinning. He’s so damned cocky.  

"I said open your mouth.”

"You didn't answer my question,”

Keep firm, keep calm, Edie. "I don't answer to you. Open your mouth," I will not let him distract me. Eventually he does as I've asked, after staring at me in that eerie way he stares for a few moments, before a loud roar of pain fills the room when I blast the liquid silver straight down his throat, reaching forward with my other hand and grabbing his jaw to force his mouth open when he tries to close it in resistance.

"Ahhh, silence is golden. Or rather silver in this case, wouldn't you agree? Oh yeah, sorry you can't speak right now. Your vocal cords are too burned," I speak sweetly once I'm done, watching him gag and splutter, since of course he can't speak. I'm the one with the upper hand now, and that is how things will remain until he leaves. This will buy me only a limited amount of time, but one thing is for sure, as soon as I get home, I'm trawling the internet to find out exactly how long it does take them to heal from certain injuries. I know about their limbs because that was one of the necessary punishments I had to inflict upon him, since he took the limbs of humans. Or rather, he ripped them off and let them lie there bleeding out in agony for a while before draining them both dry.

I'm unsure how I feel about what he did, to be honest. Okay so yes, I'm punishing him for his wrong doings. However, I kinda think the people who were on his property deserved their fate. They'd have left him in much the same state, drained of his blood and deader than he is now. I think they call it the final death or something like that, when a vampire dies. Also, they killed two treasured pets of his right in front of him.  

I don't have any animals because I worry about letting them into the yard at night, what with the occasional baboon you can find going through your trash, or worse, so I choose not to have a dog or cat. If I did and someone shot them in front of me, I think it's fair to say I'd be pretty heartbroken. I honestly didn't think vampires had any feelings toward anything other than their own survival, but apparently, I was wrong. They don't some feel things as intensely as humans do according to Aileen, but they are still capable of feeling the same emotions we do.

Still, I feel no sympathy for him. I just understand why he did it, but as ever I have to remain impartial. I cannot let my own personal feelings sway me in the case and that is something that goes both ways. I cannot be overly cruel and must adhere to the punishment guideline I am given, and I cannot be too lax either. Besides, the motherfucker attacked me. This is why as soon as he can formulate words, he gets the same again, and again, and again. I only stop when Wilson bangs on my door and tells me I'm done at midnight.

"Until tomorrow, Edie, I bid you and your nice ass goodbye." The vampire tells me as I'm walking to the door. I don't look back and I don't answer.

"What's up with this? I'm not due to finish for another three hours yet," I ask Wilson after closing the door.

"Miss Botts called time on it on account of the fact you chopped his arms off already tonight, so you get to go," he replies, jerking his thumb back in the direction of the staircase.

"On full pay?"

"Yup, get the fuck outta here, kid. See you tomorrow." He replies, while I beam brightly and do just that after retrieving my bag from my locker. A half shift, that's fucking sweet as. The first thing I do is go to the liquor store and buy myself a fresh bottle of whiskey and then grab some takeout chicken that I missed out on last night, heading home to sit in front of the television and crash. I'm doing no more painting tonight. I finished the kitchen this morning before doing a workout with my weights so my arms are really feeling it now after work as well. I plan to do nothing more strenuous than make my toenails look pretty.

Once home, I head into the kitchen and grab myself ice and a glass for my drink, and then the bathroom to fetch a bottle of nail polish. I choose glittery purple. I don't often bother painting the short nails on my hands because they just get chipped after a shift at work, but I like having pretty feet. When I go out with my girlfriends, Sasha and Miley, I often wear false nails, which are something that once again I just don't bother wearing for work. Can you imagine the scene? ‘Oh, excuse me while I just retrieve my acrylic tips from your cheek.’ No, false nails and work wouldn't mix.  

It's just as I'm exiting again that suddenly, something flashes through my head like a memory, causing me to drop the polish and the glass onto the floor. The memory isn't mine, though. I don't recognise the quick succession of images, a large crowd of bikers and then a group of half-dressed women, and then the face of a woman with dark hair and green eyes smiling, and then the same woman screaming in terror, covered in blood. It goes literally as soon as it comes, and it is right there in the hallway on this first night of having to punish him, that I feel the first lasting mark this vampire will leave upon me.

[thegreencanary]

Home is where you are…so let’s get out of here together.

Okay! This is part 2 of my Billy series. Some how this ended up being 3-4 parts. I am working on the last two because i feel like they’re shit. I don’t know how I cranked out so much story but I’m rolling with it. Im not sure if I’m gonna post the last two cuz I can just end the story here. Let me know what y’all want! ❤️

A/N: This is my work and I don’t give anyone the permission to post it anywhere claiming to be someone else’s. I worked hard on this, if you enjoy it please interact. Requests are open.

Part 1 is here

Summary: After Billy comes back to Hawkins he finds the one that got away in an all to familiar situation. He’s healed, but are you ready to be?

TW: Abuse, Cursing, uhhh I think that’s it for this one. The abuse is pretty heavy so don’t say I didn’t warn you. Also MINORS DNI I SEE YOU. STOP IT.

Lots of fluff in this one. Uhhh I think that’s all! Enjoy!!

Y/N

That night went by pretty quickly after Billy left, you talked a bit more with Steve; and he definitely picked up on your old crush. Kicking him out so he could get to his movie you caught yourself daydreaming about Billy. Something you used to do to try and calm yourself after Carol or Jason were especially cruel to you. Robin thought you were crazy because Billy always was on you too, but after Starcourt he just…ignored everyone. You completely understood, all of you were different after each incident; but Billy and Eddie were the only two who died and came back. You shook the bad memories from your thoughts and headed home around 2:00am.

Leaving that late was never something you enjoyed but it came with being a bartender. Despite some slow evenings you could pull around $500 a week and it paid for your apartment and the bills your family threw on you. Unfortunately it didn’t pay for your car all the time. You couldn’t afford the insurance this month so you were stuck walking him. Clutching your apartment keys so they were sticking out of your knuckles you walked out, surprised to find a car in the lot. Originally it scared the shit out of you, but the Benz looked all to familiar. Steve and Billy sat in the car talking when Billy caught sight of you.

B: “Hey! Harrington she’s out come on…”

You giggled but looked confused as the two got out of the car and headed to you.

B: “I was a little tired of driving and Harrington told me what time you close…”

S: “Loverboy didn’t want you going to your car alone.”

You laughed as Billy punched his arm enough to make Steve whimper, but he was looking around for your car.

Y: “…Thanks. I actually really appreciate it. Walking home isn’t ever a fun thing.”

Steve froze and Billy looked a bit more concerned than he originally did.

S: “Dude, since when are you walking? What happened to your car? I would’ve come and gotten you any-“

Y: “It’s fine Steve. I didn’t want to be a burden just had some…issues with it so I opted to walk. I need the exercise anyways.”

B: “Well get in. We’re taking you home.”

You flinched slightly at his tone. He definitely seemed pissed off about something.

The car ride was awkward because Steve was tearing you a new one for not asking for a ride or asking Eddie to look at your car. You insisted it was because you didn’t have time and you knew how inconvenient your hours were.

Y: “…for gods sake Steve you’re already yawning and we haven’t even made it to my apartment complex.”

Steve waved you off. The quiet was a bit unsettling as Billy hadn’t said anything. It looked like he was focusing on his breathing or something.

Billy

*1…2…3…4…5…5…4…3…2…1*

Billy silently counted in his head, a technique he learned in anger management. Every ounce of his being wanted to beat the shit out of Harrington for not noticing you was walking and to scream at you for not saying anything. *That was the old me* he kept reminding himself, he had worked so hard to be better for Max…for himself. California was what he needed but he didn’t realize how damaged he was until he and Max got into a fight and he almost smacked her around like his father hit him. Right there he promised her he would get help, and he did. He spent 2 years in classes and he learned things about himself he never wanted to; but needed to. The hardest part was when someone he cared about was in danger.

B: “You’re upset he’s falling asleep and you were gonna try to walk this far…how far is this? 9 miles?”

He tried to sound as calm as possible but it definitely came out like he was scolding you. He saw your head drop a bit and he sighed to himself

Y: “…it’s only 6 miles…”

Billy lightly smirked and smacked his forehead. He was amazed you could walk at night, you used to be terrified of the dark. He remembered you spending nights With him in the hospital because they never turned all the lights off.

B: “Well I’m going to be here for a few days so I’ll look at your car and I can pick you up and drop you off while I’m here… and I won’t take no for an answer Y/L/N.”

Billy turned to smile at you but it faltered when he saw the pained expression on your face. You shook her head and glanced at Steve and he got the message. You didn’t want to talk about it in-front of him. Billy nodded softly and placed a gentle hand on your knee.

B: “When do you work next hun?”

Steve laughed softly and Billy punched him again. The blondes smile came back as he saw the blush paint your cheeks.

Y: “I work tomorrow at 4:30…”

B: “I’ll see you at your place at 3:00 so I can look at your car.”

He felt you go rigid under his hand but he gently squeezed your leg and sat back down. Steve tried to say something but Billy shot him the Hargrove glare and Harrington kept his mouth shut.

————————————————

True to his word, Billy showed up at 3:00. He went to knock on your door when he heard shouting from the other side. Quickly he turned the corner to hide from the person coming out of the apartment. Billy first assumed it was a boyfriend on the other side but when he came out it looked more like your father. He slammed the door shut and it made him flash back to Neil shouting at him. Quickly Billy went to the door and knocked. Her heard you sniffling and you answered the door, back to him. You were on the phone.

Y: “Thanks Lexi. I owe you, just the next few shift and I’ll be back in tip top shape. Promise.”

Billy assumed you were getting your shifts covered but he didn’t know why. Once you turned to him, he got it. Your black eye would have caused a lot of problems at work.

Y: “…before you say anythin—“

Billy didn’t think much. He wrapped you in a tight hug and gently stroked your hair. Nothing was spoken between the two of you but Billy felt you relax into him. A wet spot appeared on his white tank top and Billy realized you were crying.

B:”…Sweetheart, are you alright?”

It took Billy a bit to speak because he had to keep himself from following your dad out and beating the living shit out of him for putting his hands on your. This, your hug, felt much more important, and he knew you’d be pissed if you beat her dad up. Slowly you pulled away from him, and it felt like the hole in his chest got bigger. He didn’t even realize you filled it in that moment.

Y: “…I’m okay, but you don’t have to look at my car. I won’t be working until next week so you can spend your time back saying hi to your friends and stuff.”

Billy sighed and pulled away from you completely. He disappeared into your room.

Y/N

“…Billy!! What are you doing?? That’s my stuff!!”

Billy Hargrove was in your room, after your dad had just come in and smacked the shit out of you for being late on their electric bill. Everything was still a blur while you watched him pack your clothes in a bag. He grabbed a skimpy dress you hadn’t worn since high school and two bras. You couldn’t help but start laughing at his choices. Gently you approached him, you could tell he was angry.

Y: “…Billy are you sending me to a strip club? What are you packing me for?”

You smiled as he realized what he’d packed and a blush hit his ears.

B: “you’re staying with me and Harrington for a bit. Just until you’re better and you can tell someone in the group what’s going on.”

You shrunk into yourself. It was nice he wasn’t totally pushing you to talk about it but it was clear he wanted you to. Sighing you started grabbing actual clothes and packing those. Satisfied it seemed, Billy stood in the doorway and watched you pack. His laugh caused you to look up at him.

B: “A night light. I knew you were still scared of the dark.”

You blushed and threw a sweater at him, but yeah you grabbed two and packed them.

B: “So is something actually wrong with your car too? Because I can fix it. I told you I own my own shop out in California, I kinnnnnda know what I’m doing Babe.”

The pet names were coming on strong and it was hard for you to maintain your composure. You grabbed the dress he did earlier and packed it. Who knows, maybe Steve will throw a party while you’re over.

Y: “I bet you’re a big deal Billy, but you don’t have to worry about it. I’m sure I can fix it later.”

Throwing your bag at him you walked past him and grabbed your apartment keys. He wasn’t gonna let the car thing go, but for now you were happy he didn’t say anything.

———————————————

Steve really should run an orphanage or home for misfits. Since his parents decided to ‘backpack through Africa’ or some weird rich people shit, he’d been the go to place to crash. He didn’t care because he loved the company and his parents left the credit cards. He knew about your family because when you showed up with a bruise he just hugged you, took your bag from Billy and set you up in his parents room. Billy took his room which was across the hall and Steve was booted to the guest room. Billy fought him about it for 10 minutes while you took a shower and dressed in a giant sweatshirt and leggings to get comfortable. Grumbling something Steve gave his room up by the time you walked out to meet them.

S: “hey are you okay with us still doing a movie night tonight Y/N? We can always push it to another night.”

Steve loved having the crew over for movie nights on Fridays. You smiled and shook your head.

Y: “let’s Keep it. I’m sure everyone will be happy to see Billy, and I haven’t seen dusty boy or Will in a few months.”

Lucas didn’t live to far from you so when you could drive your car legally you offered to drive him to school, same with Mike. Hopper always took El, but she made a point to try to come to your apartment to check on you. That girl was always protective of you.

Billy winked at you, he was proud of you for going through with it. He didn’t know that everyone else knew about your situation, so it wasn’t really that brave of you.

Night time rolled around and you settled into the couch after greeting everyone. Nancy gave you and extra king hug and Robin made some sarcastic comments that made you feel better. Eddie gave you a new Iron Maiden tape which definitely lifted your spirits, but everyone was focused on Billy. Happy to see he was doing well and asking all about California. Lucas wanted to ask about Max only and Dustin kept trying to shut him up. Eventually you all settled in and Billy was squished up next to you as Lucas and dustin crowded in on him. Will sat at your feet next to Steve and El sat with Mike. Nancy, Robin, Eddie and Jonathan spread out and made comfortable piles elsewhere.

Eddie picked the movie, Stephen king’s ‘Pet Semetary.’ You rolled your eyes, not only did you hate horror movies, you were almost sitting on Billy’s lap and hoping the movie would distract you. He wrapped one arm around you when you groaned at the title.

B: “I got you babe. Don’t be scared.”

You could tell he was teasing…right? He wore his signature smirk and his crystal blue eyes pierced yours.

Y: “…shut it Hargrove.”

He chuckled but his arm didn’t move.

Billy

He couldn’t focus on the movie. You were so close to him. Billy was happy to see that everyone knew how to take care of you, how to make you forget about your shitty family. He wished he had been that way when he was going through it. Something scary happened in the movie and you jumped, moving closer to him. Careful not to tease you away, he leaned into a bit. Wether or not you did it subconsciously or on purpose, the tilting of your head onto his shoulder almost sent him over the edge. His free hand gently combed though your hair and he noticed how you started to doze off. Looking around at the end of the movie, so did everyone else. Billy chuckled softly; only this crew of people could fall asleep during a horror movie. They’d all seen enough horror in real life.

Lifting you gently, Billy started carrying you to your room. He felt you shift and hold onto him more and on God he wanted to carry you away to California right there. He laid you down on the bed and took a moment to admire you, just beautiful you. He glanced at your bag and scoffed to himself. Grabbing the nightlight he plugged it in for you.

Y: “…Billy?”

He froze and turned toward you. Afraid you’d be mad that he went through your stuff.

Y:”…could you st—could you keep the hall light on? Thank you for bringing me up here.”

He could have sworn you were going to ask him to stay. God he wished you asked him to stay.

B: “sure thing sweetheart.”

Y: “why do you call me that?”

*Because you’re my sweetheart. Because you deserve to be showered in compliments. Not the shit I was calling you before.* He wanted to tell you the truth, that he’d been pining after you for years. Today seemed rough for you and he…he didn’t think he could handle if you rejected him.

B: “because you have a sweet heart…idiot.”

Your chuckle made him smile and he approached you. Billy knelt down so you two were eye to eye, and he gently moved the hair way from your bruised eye.

B: “how long?”

Y: “About a year and a half. I moved out to get away, but it’s a lot more complicated than that.”

Billy got comfortable on the floor and smiled.

B: “I’ve got all the time In the world baby, and I know you’re too scared to go to sleep.”

Your gently hand lightly shoving him proved his point, but his heart leapt as you sat up and motioned for him to join you on the bed.

Y/N

Y: “don’t get any ideas bucko. I just don’t want you looking up at me like a lost puppy.”

Billy laughed but joined you, but instead of sitting across from you, he sat next to you. Honestly you had no idea why you wanted him so close but he was just so damn…comforting.

B: “here, now you don’t have to look at me. I know…I know how hard it is.”

The relief you felt was visible and you leaned into Billy, wrapping one arm around his waist. You could hear his heart racing and he knew you could. The both of you blushed but he listened as you explained.

Y: “After Vecna, you and Eddie dying but coming back, I had some hard times. My grades were slipping and I couldn’t focus on anything. I was so scared of so much and my parents just kept getting frustrated that their perfect daughter was slipping. Then Jason Carver’s family fired my father and he blamed it all on me, because I rejected Jason at the town fair. My dad turned to alcohol and the rest was history. He forced me to sign for some of their bills so when I moved out I still pay for their things. He got mad at me today because I was late on the light bill…I can’t even cover my own car insurance.”

B: “so your car is fine, you just can’t afford to drive it.”

You nodded and grabbed a pillow hiding your embarrassed face. Tears threatened at your eyes as you heard a soft, non judgmental chuckle and you felt lips on your forehead. He kissed your forehead. You pulled the pillow down a bit and he smiled at you.

B: “hey beautiful.”

Y: “…you talking to a mirror?”

You giggled as he tried to lightly tickle your sides, making you feel a bit better.

B: “Why haven’t you told anyone? I’m sure Steve would have his parents pay for your insurance, or at least help you out. Shit I can even do it from Cal—“

Y: “you shut your mouth Billy. I want to do it on my own. I want to get out of here and I want to live knowing I don’t need help. I want to prove to them I can do it.”

You had put your finger on Billy’s mouth to quiet him and now realized that was a bit awkward. You tried to move it away but he grabbed it and kissed your hand. Cue the HUGE blush.

B: “there is nothing wrong with asking for help babe, but I understand. Just know you don’t have to do it alone.”

You were damn near shaking. How was this the same Billy Hargrove?? The one who pushed a kid in a locker and threw someone lunch on a crying freshman??

Y: “California really did you some good huh…”

Billy smirked and leaned in a bit, his hand still holding yours.

B: “definitely made me realize somethings I should have seen a while ago.”

Your foreheads were almost touching. He moved a hand to your non bruised cheek and gently stroked it with his thumb. You tried to ask what he meant but it just came out as a “mmm?” He chuckled at that but continued.

B: “I finally realized that I was an ass to keep people at bay, so they didn’t have to suffer me and my problems. The people I cared about most I was the most cruel to, because I didn’t understand why I cared so much. Because I didn’t know what love was. I didn’t know I loved you, Y/N but now I know I still do.”

His lips gently touched yours as a tidal wave of emotion swept you both up. Tears fell as you desperately held on to him during the kiss; like he was going to float away in the emotion. He chuckled at your desperation and held you close. Pulling away you didn’t want to risk going too far…you were still…untouched. God knows he wasn’t so you decided to save that for another time. Before you could speak he finished his confession.

B: “I know you probably don’t know how to love yet, and I’m okay with that. You don’t need to tell me you’re in love with me if you don’t know what it means. I just wanted you to know, I’ve loved you for years.”

——————————-

Okay! That’s the end of part two! I’m gonna try to make it one final part after this but there might be two. We shall see. Feed back is always appreciated!

Part 1 // Part 3 (Final)

[effloradox]

Hi

I was wondering if your still taking requests. If so could I please have married Morpheus x fem reader went to hell together and on the way back from hell Morpheus get attacked by a rogue demon what he kills but isn’t till you get him back to dreaming that you see that he’s been stabbed and then reader has to look after hurt Morpheus and maybe a little fluff at end.

Thank you

this is such a good concept omg

Going to hell felt like it was going to be an awful idea, it's not a realm that you've ever wanted to visit uninvited but when Dream said he had to go you couldn't let him go with just Matthew

The trip goes about as well as can be expected from dropping in on Lucifer Morningstar without an invitation, but you do what you set out to do and you leave with Dream's helm so you're counting the two of you to be very lucky and you won't deny that you're in a hurry to leave and get back home to the Dreaming

The demon that led you to the castle takes you back to the gate, and you're vaguely aware that there's another demon accompanying him but you're so focused on leaving Hell in one piece that it doesn't occur to you to be concerned about the straggler

You make it through the gate and back to the Dreaming in relative peace, apart from one minor argument between Dream and the unknown demon but even that seems to blow over quickly enough that you don't think it an issue

It's only when you actually get back to the Dreaming that you realise that all is not well with your husband

"Dream we are never going there uninvited ever again." You expect a noise of agreement, or even a comment, and when you get nothing you stop in your tracks and turn to face your husband who isn't walking directly next to you like he always does. "Dream?"

It's the fact he stumbles towards you that sets something off in your brain that something is actually very wrong with your husband. You bridge the gap between the two of you and wince when he flinches away from you. "Dream, tell me what's wrong." It isn't hard to notice that he's pulled his greatcoat tighter around himself than usual. It doesn't take a genius to know he's hiding something.

"It's nothing, just a minor injury." It takes effort but you slowly manage to pull his coat open and even through a black shirt you can tell he's bleeding.

"Dream, what did that demon do to you? We need to get you to Lucienne."

"It was merely a light stabbing." It takes your brain a few moments to process what Morpheus just said and when it dawns on you, you can't hide the horrified expression that grows on your face.

"I'm sorry you were stabbed?!" You watch his expression shift into mild frustration at your growing panic but you can't find it in you to care. You're aware he's eternal but surely he should have more of a reaction to being stabbed?

"Lightly stabbed. I need you to use your power to help me heal."

"Right, yeah okay. Heal you. That sounds easy enough. I can definitely be trusted to do that. Not like you hid a stabbing from me is it?"

"Dearest, you need to stop panicking. I'll be fine when you help me heal. I apologise for not telling you sooner, there didn't feel like an opportune moment to tell you when we were leaving Hell." He does have a point with that, you can't deny that. You lean into the not-stabbed part of his chest for a moment as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. Your panics starts to lessen slightly, and you take a slow, deep breath before leaning back and making eye contact with Morpheus.

"So, how do I heal you?"

taglist: @aurorarevenclaw1927

[ladyartemesia]

The Praetor

◐ PART VI of THE ALPHA ◐

◐ Series Masterlist ◐

◐ Part I ◐ Part II ◐ Part III ◐ Part IV ◐ Part V ◐

Pairing: Alpha Werewolf Jimin x Omega Reader

Rating: Hard Mature 18+ (for this installment)

Warnings: sexual content including grinding and marking, some light (and totally consensual) manhandling, ABO sexual dynamics including discussion of scenting, marking, mating, and claiming. Violence and discussion of violence relating to ritual combat, possessive behavior, injuries and discussion of injuries

Special Note: Yoonji and Yunli are NOT the same person. Yoonji is Yoongi and Yunli’s cousin. She is sometimes affectionately called “Ji-ah.”

Word Count: 5500 (wow)

Author’s Note: Life has been really hard. I won’t beat around the bush. It was hard to do anything... but your kind words and support really kept me going. Truly you guys straight up manifested this chapter with your incredible support. As always, my angels @ppersonna​ @xjoonchildx​ @untaemedqueen​ and @underthejoon​ were the best betas and the best friends anyone could ask for. My thanks to ALL of you for helping me bring this story to life!

“Alpha.” 

Namjoon’s voice echoed through the clearing with profound resonance. 

There would be no more fighting. 

There would be no more doubt.

It was a complete surrender, the kind only a true Alpha could compel. 

A frantic whimper suddenly split the air, drawing every eye to you-

 But you saw only him. 

“Untie me,” you pleaded, struggling impatiently against the restraints. 

One of the elders moved to release you, but before she could, Jin produced a knife and cut you free with the kind of terrifying precision expected of a man who was every bit as deadly as he was beautiful. 

Then you were running - and this time, no one could stop you. 

Your body crashed into his and fiery joy shot through you as he pulled you into his arms. 

His scent wrapped around your senses like a warm blanket, covering the fear and pain of the past days in unimaginable relief. 

 “Jimin.”

“I’m here. I have you,” he whispered. 

Your entire frame seemed to shake as you sobbed against his chest. It was as if you could not draw close enough - could not hold tight enough - to be satisfied. Part of you was still terrified that you would wake up and discover that all of this had been a dream...

Then you heard it.

Another set of knees hitting the ground. 

“Alpha.”

Then another-

“Alpha.“

And another 

“Alpha.”

Till the air was filled with hundreds of voices, all speaking the same word.

“Alpha.”

Namjoon remembered very little of what happened after his surrender...

Just pain. 

His limbs seemed oddly disconnected from the rest of his body. There was blood everywhere (and he was reasonably sure it was his). 

He knew he should feel defeated, broken - ashamed even.

Instead he felt strangely...

Light. 

As if a great weight had lifted from his shoulders. 

The last thing he saw before losing consciousness entirely was Yunli’s tear-stained gaze - still fixed on him - even as the others turned to face their new Alpha. 

He breathed out her name in a quiet, desperate plea as the darkness overtook him. 

Jimin was only in your arms a few moments before healers and half the elder’s council came rushing forward on all sides. 

You snarled instinctively at the first elder who tried to collect him, but a healer eventually got close enough to reason with you after pointing out that the wound on his shoulder could possibly become infected if left untreated for much longer.

An Alpha’s injuries always took the highest priority, but Jimin directed them all toward Namjoon, brushing away anyone who attempted to tend to him. 

By that point Jin and your mother had found their way to your side and were gently trying to pull you back - even as more elders reached for your mate. 

Everyone was speaking at once - words about preparations and plans and ceremonies - but none of it registered over the waves of frantic adrenaline still pounding through your system. 

You didn’t know what they wanted or why they were so close-

just that they were trying to take him away again. 

No. 

Suddenly a senior elder placed his hand on Jimin’s forearm and your wolf snapped entirely. 

Omegas were known for their speed and as a Luna, yours was unparalleled.

Two council members and a healer went flying into the dirt within the space of a single second as your body instinctively assumed a defensive stance. The remaining elders stumbled back in alarm and your mother fainted dead away forcing Jin to catch her rather inelegantly. 

Your canines began to lengthen as you pressed your back to the Alpha, letting primal rage guide your movements. 

They had tied you up. 

Forced you to watch as he was attacked again and again and again-

An omega would defend their mate to the death and you had spent days knowing he was in danger...

Feeling powerless, feeling paralyzed- 

Your wolf had simply had enough. 

“Luna please-“ the chief elder began cautiously, but you cut him off with warning growl and lunged - fully prepared to end the next person who attempted to separate you from-

Strong arms closed around you, pulling you back to the comforting warmth that enveloped you moments ago.

Jimin. 

“Luna,” he whispered against your skin and you shivered, letting your eyes flutter shut. 

Then you felt it. 

The gentle pressure of the Alpha - your mate - nosing softly at your neck. 

It was a gesture of soothing affection. 

Of gratitude. 

Slowly he turned you in his arms till you were facing him once again. The fire in your blood began to fade as you simply took him in, struck by the sensual beauty of his face and the possessive heat in his gaze. 

“So fierce,” he hummed, tilting his head so you could bury yourself in his scent once more. His hands brushed soothing circles over your back, leaving delicious sparks of pleasure in their wake. 

“I’m safe,” he promised as you nuzzled into him needily. “You can rest now...” 

The pleasant pull of his command wove heavily through your senses. You felt your feet leave the ground as he lifted you fully into his arms...

Then you slipped into a blissful sleep. 

The healers worked for hours on Namjoon. 

Some betas were blessed with minor healing abilities - a valuable gift stemming from a type of energy transference. He could feel the heat of their hands as they poured themselves - literally - into mending his battered body.  

His ribs were set and wrapped tightly and the swelling and bruising were already beginning to fade due to the assortment of vile tasting herbal concoctions they insisted on ramming down his throat. 

Accelerated healing and potent herbal intervention truly went a long way, but it would take time and rest to restore him fully.

Despite his lingering soreness, Namjoon was finally lucid enough to think for the first time since the fight and there was certainly a wealth of things to think about…

Yet his mind kept going back to that moment-

To her. 

“Kim Namjoon.”

Every hair on his body raised to attention. 

“Alpha-” 

He struggled to pull himself upright, but Jimin placed a hand on his arm to still him. 

“Please,” he spoke softly, “let me sit. I’ve caused you enough trouble for one day.”

A painful chuckle stuttered out of Namjoon and he shook his head. 

“Shouldn’t I be the one saying that? We both know this is entirely my fault.”

Jimin’s eyes dropped in reluctant amusement.. 

“You think rather highly of yourself,” he said with a barely perceptible grin, echoing his words in the chief elder’s chambers a day - a lifetime - ago. “I believe I had something to do with it as well.”

Namjoon laughed and winced immediately. He rubbed gingerly over the binding on his ribs before voicing the question that had plagued him from the moment he awoke. 

“How quickly?” 

The Alpha tilted his head in confusion. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“How quickly,” Namjoon grunted, pulling himself to an upright position, “could you have killed me?”

There was a strange sort of acceptance in his eyes, a profound and untainted respect that Jimin was wholly unused to receiving from a man like him. 

It was equal parts humbling and overwhelming. 

“The first hit... a little to the left - at full force -  would have fractured your sternum and penetrated your heart.  You’d have been dead in a matter of minutes.”

Namjoon was silent for a long time. 

“Why did you spare me? ...I challenged you, threatened you, intended to lay claim to your mate which-” he rubbed idly at the back of his neck, “I’m beginning to understand is enough to enrage any man… So why am I still here?”

“Because,” Jimin sighed, “apparently I think very highly of you too, Kim Namjoon.”

“Well… I’m flattered, but I - I still don’t understand… I’ve done nothing but underestimate you. Most wolves would have made an example of me.”

“Oh I intend to make an example of you,” Jimin smiled and Namjoon felt his blood run cold for the briefest instant, “but not in the way you’re thinking.” 

The Alpha’s eyes took on a strangely solemn light. “I have no intention of ruling through fear and violence.”

After a moment, his gaze met Namjoon’s again. 

“You were right… Without your challenge, the pack would never have trusted my leadership. You were the obvious choice to be Alpha and without defeating you decisively, they would always look to you as an alternative.”

Namjoon eyed his collection of injuries sardonically. 

“Something tells me you won’t have that issue now.”

“And I have you to thank for that.”

“So … you spared my life in gratitude?”

“I spared your life because it was well worth sparing. You have always led your clan with honor and dignity. You don’t strike me as someone who enjoys killing, yet you were willing to do so for the good of our people. Such a man is a far better example alive than he is dead.”

Namjoon could not help but be impressed by the younger alpha’s insight and perception. 

Our goddess has chosen well. 

“I am grateful for your mercy, Alpha... Though I’m sure there are some who believe I should have chosen death over the disgrace of defeat.”

Jimin’s jaw clenched. . 

“Defeat is not a disgrace. I have learned some of my greatest lessons from it. Defeat is often a vital stop on the path to victory.”

The elder alpha grinned. 

“I wouldn’t know. This is the first time I’ve lost.”

Jimin laughed and Namjoon’s impish smile suddenly became oddly serious. 

“I want you to know…  You have my loyalty - without question - and not simply because you spared me. It is clear that you were meant to lead.”

A subtle hint of awe crept into his tone as he continued. 

“Honestly… I’ve only ever heard stories of primal alphas. I never thought I’d meet one,” he snorted, “or be foolish enough to fight him.“

Jimin drew back in confusion. 

“I’m not familiar- ...I’ve never heard of a primal alpha.”

“Really?... Well ...I suppose that makes sense. I forgot how often you skipped camp.” He sighed and shifted into a more comfortable position before answering. 

“A primal alpha is goddess-blessed. They cannot be compelled. Their command is powerful enough to compel members of other packs and even non-wolves. It is a rare gift.”

Jimin’s face easily betrayed his shock. 

“I-...That’s-” he shook his head. “Why do you believe I have such a gift?”

“I suppose the first hint should have been your coloring. Silver wolves are never born to mundane destinies... But the real proof is in your eyes.” Namjoon leaned back against the headboard, quietly reliving the moment he discovered the depth of Jimin’s ability. “When you commanded me to yield, your eyes flashed gold. It’s the true sign of a primal alpha... of a king.”

King. 

The word fell heavily between them. 

A human king was a politician, a figurehead whose power became more symbolic as the ages passed. 

But to the wolf nations, a king - an Alpha - was the heart of their pack. A warrior who bore the burden of leadership alongside his Luna. 

The power of a wolf king was quite real. 

The Alpha shifted uncomfortably 

“I never thought I would be a king.”

“And I never thought I wouldn’t be.” His eyes dropped to his hands. “I’m not quite sure what I am anymore.”

“Perhaps I can help with that.”

Namjoon’s gaze met his with cautious curiosity. 

“Oh?”

“You said yourself I skipped Alpha camp every year. I may have been destined to lead, but I won’t pretend that I’m completely prepared for it.”

All at once Namjoon realized why Jimin was there. 

The transfer of power was a long and intricate process that should remain essentially uninterrupted until its completion. 

There could only be one reason the Alpha had come to his bedside. 

He was here to appoint his Praetor. 

A Praetor wielded nearly as much authority as the Alpha. In terms of pack hierarchy, only the Alpha outranked him (or her). The commitment required was immense. Their role encompassed everything from ‘chief advisor’ to ‘the last line of defense.’

Praetor were expected to cut all obligations to their own clan and serve only the Alpha. They were an extension of his authority and vision. It was a lifetime appointment which could be extremely dangerous (depending on the number of territorial disputes one’s pack might be involved in). 

If anything were to happen to the Alpha, a Praetor would assume the responsibility of protecting the Luna and ruling by her side (without any romantic obligations as Praetor often had their own mates) until their death. 

“What about Taehyung?”

Jimin shrugged. 

“What about him? I assure you, he has no interest in this at all.” A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Besides, he serves me well as a best friend... A Praetor must be willing to disagree with me from time to time without worrying too much about my feelings. They must be in tune with the needs of the pack. Kim Taehyung is a good man… but he isn’t the right one. Not for this.”

The elder alpha considered his next words carefully. 

“What you’re asking is no small request.”

“True,” Jimin nodded, “but how about this…” he grinned mischievously, “I promise to put in a good word for you with Min Yoongi when he finds out what you’ve done to his little sister.”

“I haven’t done anything to his little sister.”

“Yet.”

Namjoon cleared his throat guiltily. 

“You realize this means we’ll have to talk every single day.”

“It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make for the good of the pack.”

Namjoon laughed and Jimin smiled back, more sure than ever that he was making the right choice. 

After a moment the Alpha held out his hand in an age old ceremonial gesture and finally voiced the question he had come to ask. 

“Kim Namjoon, will you forsake your place in the clan of your blood to serve your Alpha and your pack as Praetor. Will you protect my blood as your own and fight by my side till the paths of our lives be complete?

Namjoon’s gaze locked with his as their palms met, letting the force of his resolve color each word. 

“I swear it shall be so.” 

It was well past noon when you stumbled from your bedroom to find Jin spread luxuriously over your kitchen island, popping berries into his mouth like a debauched satyr. 

“I feel very odd…” you yawned, “almost like I-”

“Attacked half the elders council in a fit of horny rage?”

Your jaw dropped. 

“I did no such thing!” A few choice memories began to flood back and your staunch defensive tirade stuttered in shock. “Wait...Did I-”

“You did.”

“I wouldn’t call it horny rage,” you muttered, massaging your temples as you struggled to process your own actions. 

“I don’t know, the whole thing looked very horny to me.”

“Everything looks horny to you.”

Jin grinned but didn’t bother denying it. 

“What do you remember?”

“I remember…” you pulled a water bottle from the fridge and took a long drink before answering,”...Jimin’s victory... People kept trying to take him away and then-”

Heat streaked across the back of your neck as you recalled the press of his lips on your skin.

“Oh...”

You shivered deliciously.  

Jin sighed. “Yes, you were quite the spectacle. Who knows how many throats you would have ripped out if the Alpha had not intervened.”

“Oh goddess,” you moaned, burying your face in your hands. “He probably thinks I’m a lunatic.”

Jin rolled his eyes. 

“I wonder if there is a celestial punishment for smacking the Luna upside the head.”

“Punishable by death - for sure,” you pouted, “and why would you even want to do that?”

“Because you’re an idiot. The man risked his life for you in ritual combat and then carried you home in his arms all the way from the sacred circle like a fairy tale princess.”

“He... he did?”

Your cousin nodded and tossed another berry in his mouth. 

“The whole scene was so disgustingly romantic. I would have swooned if I wasn’t left to haul your mother back. Honestly I think I threw out my back.”  

“And - and the pack?”

“They were free to swoon since they weren’t carrying your mother and most of them did. The man has become a bit of a legend already. Namjoon is one of the strongest alphas in the mountain kingdoms and Park Jimin dispatched him like it was nothing.” He paused to dab berry juice off his absurdly full lips. “I’d be surprised if every pack for a hundred miles hasn’t heard about it by now.”

“How is Namjoon?”

“Alive. He will make a full recovery.”

You sighed in relief. Truly, you had no desire to mate with the Kim alpha, but (despite the grumbling of your bloodthirsty wolf) you never wanted him dead. 

Not to mention the loss of Namjoon would have cast a heavy shade over Jimin’s leadership. He was wise to spare him. 

“Where is he? I want to see him.”

“Namjoon is with the healers-”

“Kim Seokjin,” you bopped him with your now empty water bottle. “I am obviously not talking about Namjoon. Where is my mate?!”

“Calm down, cousin. You’re getting that throat-rippy gleam in your eye again and I’m far too beautiful to go out like that.” 

He reached for another berry. 

“I need to see him.”

You were already marching toward the door when Jin yanked you back. It was always a surprise to see how fast he could move when he wanted to. 

“My dear sweet Luna, you have one murderous rampage and forget all about our tedious traditions. The elders will be drowning him in the preparations and expectations of leadership for at least another ten hours.”

None of Jin’s sensible reminders mattered the least bit to your wolf. She was already suggesting all sorts of reasons you should just march into the council chambers and take him. 

Park Jimin was yours. 

You’ve waited long enough. 

Your hand tightened on the doorknob. 

“He left something for you.”

Kim Seokjin really was a wickedly clever man. He knew exactly which cards to play and exactly when to play them. 

Your heart stuttered wildly in your chest as Jin nodded toward a small box on the table. 

“He sent Taehyung to drop it off not long after the elders dragged him away from your bedside.” 

If you had even an ounce of dignity left, you might have been embarrassed by how quickly you scrambled over to the gift, but you were well past caring about such things when it came to him. 

Your cousin shook his head as you eagerly tore into the wrapping, impatient to discover what he could have possibly-

You gasped. 

There, laying nestled in an ornate wooden box with a lavish blue satin interior, was the most beautiful pair of gloves you had ever seen…

Your fingers reached out to brush the soft white leather, custom stitched with intricately embroidered vines that wound around a beautiful silver wolf. 

“They’re exquisite.”

Jim’s brow furrowed in confusion. 

“They’re not just exquisite, they’re one of a kind.” His fingers traced over the emblem on the box. “This is the mark of the Bangtan Leatherworkers Guild. Every one of their pieces is unique.” 

Your head tilted curiously as Jin began to lift back the satin lining.

“What are you doing?”

“You can only buy their merchandise directly from the shop in Seoul. There’s no way he could have gotten these today.”

“R...Really?”

Jin nodded. 

“I’m about to find out for sure. Each piece produced by the guild comes with a certification. It includes the date of manufacture and the date of sale.”

After a moment he withdrew a small card embossed with gold writing. 

“Well... what does it say?” you pressed impatiently. 

An odd little smile drifted across Jin’s lips as he considered the information in his hands. 

“These gloves were sold to Park Jimin three years ago... a few days before your 17th birthday.” 

Min Yunli slept for most of the day after Taehyung brought her home. 

The Alpha ordered his second to secure her and see to her safety not long after lifting the Luna into his arms. 

In the end, Tae had to compel her again.

She fought to stay near Namjoon, but he needed medical attention and there was no real reason to allow her any access to the fallen alpha. 

She had no claim on him. 

She was nothing to him. 

Nothing at all. 

When she finally opened her eyes the sun was already dipping low on the horizon and the world around her was dim. 

Aching emptiness sat heavily in her chest. The Change was another six days away which meant the connection between her consciousness and her wolf was not fully solidified…  but she could still feel acidic pain of rejection festering in both halves of her heart. 

Tears fell silently down her cheek as she considered her actions and what the consequences might be. 

Namjoon probably hated her now. She had ruined everything for him. 

An angry growl rumbled up from her stomach. 

Yunli snorted humorously and shrugged off her dirty clothes, throwing on an oversized t-shirt before trudging out to the refrigerator. 

Of all the problems she was facing, hunger was the easiest to fix. 

“Do you normally walk around without pants?” 

She just barely bit back a scream. 

There - sitting on her couch (and looking significantly better than he had the last time she’d seen him) - was Kim Namjoon. 

“How did you get in here?!” Yunli squeaked. 

Namjoon held up a key. 

“Yoongi gave it to me years ago.”

Though I doubt he intended for me to use it like this. 

Her fists clenched and unclenched reflexively at her side. 

“Have you… come to yell at me?” she whispered.

Namjoon didn’t respond right away, he was too distracted by the shapely curve of her legs and the soft glow of her skin under the warmth of the living room lamps. 

Yunli, however, took his silence as confirmation of her worst fears. 

“I’m so sorry...” she trembled, her beautiful eyes glistening poetically with unshed tears. “I don’t - I don’t know what came over me - I know I cost you the fight and I-”

Namjoon felt a chuckle bubble up in chest and winced. 

“Yunli...your screams, however affecting, could not undo the will of the goddess.” He shook his head, “Park Jimin was born to be the Alpha.”  His fingers rubbed idly at his chest. “I’ve never come across anything like his power.”

Her eyes traced over the damage to his body with obvious remorse. 

“Are you ok?” she asked finally. 

He had four cracked ribs, several critical lacerations, a concussion, two sprained elbows, countless contusions, and a split lip. 

“Ah, it’s nothing,” he shrugged, barely suppressing a groan. 

Yunli grinned, helplessly endeared as always. She opened her mouth to ask again why he was here, but he cut her off with a surprisingly curt question. 

“Has Taehyung seen you like this?”

Yunli blinked. Twice. 

“T-Taehyung? Like Kim Taehyung - your cousin?”

“Second cousin,” he growled, “I was told he brought you home.”

“Well. Yes. He did… I’m really grateful to him actually. I don’t know what would have happened if he hadn’t caught me and calmed me down.”

A loud ringing was building in Namjoon’s ears. 

“Do you have an understanding with him?” he snarled. 

Yunli’s jaw dropped. 

“An understanding? With Yoonji’s Taehyung?!” She snorted. “I don’t have a death wish.”

“What’s Yoonji got to do with this? Isn’t she in Europe?”

“Never mind that. Why would you think Tae and I-”

“Tae?!”

Yunli’s eyes narrowed. 

“What’s going on in that busted up skull of yours, Kim Namjoon?”

Namjoon was off the couch and pressing her against the wall faster than she would have thought possible in his condition. 

“What’s going on is that for the past year you’ve been a real problem for me, Min Yunli.”

Yunli gasped as the muscled lines of his body weighed firmly into her own. Deep curls of pleasure flared up at every contact point. 

Yes. Oh goddess, yes. 

The force of his desire burned hot in the air between them. She had waited years for him to see her like this - to touch her like this...

“I wasn’t supposed to feel anything when you looked at me with your heart in those pretty brown eyes,” he murmured, brushing the tips of his fingers up over her arms till he was cupping her chin. 

Yunli’s wolf keened in delight as she melted helplessly into his embrace. 

It felt good. It felt so so good. 

“I was convinced you were a challenge - a divine temptation put in my path to test my resolve-” his jaw clenched, “or simply an endless source of torment because you wanted me so badly and I could never have you.”

The sound of ripping fabric split the air as Namjoon clawed through the neckline of her t-shirt, baring her pert little breasts to him like an obscene feast. 

“I was supposed to want the Luna,” he growled, squeezing the soft mounds roughly in his palms till she was whining and writhing against him, “-not Min Yoongi’s sweet little sister.”

Her gaze was so open - so trusting. Adoration shone through every inch of her regard and it was intoxicating. 

She was intoxicating. 

His hand slid down to grip her thighs, lifting her body till she was forced to wrap her legs around him for balance. 

“Namjoon,” she whimpered as the sensitive folds of her core ground into his growing hardness. 

“You just kept pushing and pushing-” he hissed, punctuating each word with delicious thrusts till the maddening pressure in her center was nearly unbearable. “Then last night you offered me a taste and it nearly destroyed me.”

His mouth finally descended on hers again and she opened to him eagerly, wrapping her arms around his neck with wanton desperation. A tortured groan slipped past his lips as he dragged her away from the wall and onto the sofa where she first discovered him. 

“Is this what you wanted, Min Yunli?” he rasped between the fervent mating of their mouths. “To make me desperate? To take me apart until I’m half-mad with wanting you?”

“Yes,” she sobbed as he sucked mark after mark into her flesh, painting her body with the evidence of his passion.

She slipped her hands greedily under his shirt, aching to feel more of his skin against her own. Needy whines and moans fell from her mouth like a siren’s call, beckoning Namjoon to lose himself in the lush warmth of her body. 

“If Kim Taehyung puts his greasy hands on you again, I’ll kill him.”

Yunli mewled in primal gratification at his bold words. She had waited far too long to hear them. 

“All those months I suffered because my wolf recognized what I was too ignorant to see.” 

The last shreds of her shirt flew across the room and Namjoon pinned her wrists above her head like a pagan offering, allowing his free hand to explore her curves with impassioned reverence. 

“You are mine, Yunli,” he swore. 

And she was. 

She always had been. 

Following Jimin’s victory, the pack exploded into a chaotic storm of gossip and ceremonial preparations. The story of his unlikely path to power had already spread beyond the borders of the mountain kingdoms. 

“-messages are coming in from the high packs of Delhi and Beijing requesting to meet with him-“

The rise of new pack leaders typically brought with it a buzz of excitement, but the Luna and her newly victorious Alpha were anything but typical. 

“-he’s a silver wolf. I always knew he was meant for more than just heading up the Park clan-“

The last Alpha king (the current Luna’s great-grandfather) died peacefully in his sleep nearly thirty years ago and the elder’s council ruled in the interim while they waited for a new Alpha to rise. This was the first (and likely the only) coronation most people would see in their lifetime. 

“ - my friend from Seoul is begging me to invite her. Outsiders aren’t allowed to attend unless they’re the guest of a pack member- “

Preparations to transfer power were every bit as tedious and time consuming as the rest of pack law. 

“-the council just announced that he’s chosen a Praetor. I’m sure it will be Taehyung-“

Aside from sneaking out to secure his Praetor (who was not Taehyung), the new Alpha had been holed up with the council, the heads of the ten major clans, and an army of envoys from other packs for nearly twelve hours. 

“ -grandfather worked with him all day. He claims that the future king has already impressed the council-”

Park Jimin’s name echoed through the mountain kingdoms. People could speak of nothing else. 

But there was one member of the pack who had not yet heard the news...

Yoongi took a deep breath as he waited for the woman on the other end of the line to accept his call. He was mentally and physically exhausted, but he had promised to tell her what happened as soon as he could.

Silence lingered eerily in the first few moments after she picked up. 

“I really debated answering this,” Min Yoonji whispered at last. “I don’t know if I can bear to hear you say that Park Jimin is dead.”

She sighed heavily as she ambled down the stairs of her tiny apartment in Paris. 

There were too many happy memories connected with him. He was Tae’s best friend... His loss would tear her former lover apart. 

And she could not be there for him when it did. 

She could never be there for him...

Several thousand miles away her cousin smiled. 

“Park Jimin is not dead, Ji-ah.”

Yoonji missed the last step and crashed down inelegantly on her tail bone. 

“WHAT?!” Her fingers scrambled to hold the phone secure in her precarious position. “You mean to tell me that Kim Namjoon lost - to PARK JIMIN?!”

“You sure picked a wild time to move to Europe,” Yoongi chuckled. 

“I didn’t really move here per se... I just relocated temporarily but indefinitely.”

“Yes, I’m well aware. Your mother is still howling about what a disgrace it was to go through the Change away from your friends and family. So thank you for that.”

Yoonji sighed. 

“What’s done is done... I know you don’t understand, but I promise to explain someday.” Her eyes drifted shut as she forced the pain in her heart aside. “... I can’t believe I missed all this. You have to tell me how he did it.”

“I will later, but I need to head back to the council chambers. We had a brief recess and I figured I’d call since it’s still early over there. However… I do have one last shocking revelation for you before I go.”

Yoonji rolled her eyes at her cousin’s dramatics. 

“I’m not sure anything could shock me after finding out that Park Jimin is our new Alpha.”

“Jimin just made Namjoon his Praetor.”

Apparently I was wrong. 

“WHAT!? So wait - that means Jinwook is now head of the Kim Clan?”

Yoongi’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

“Jinwook? No, how could - ah never mind. You were already in Europe when he left.”

“Jinwook left?!”

“Yeah, he was finishing up a consultation in Bangkok when he met his mate in one of the packs up there. It's an older pack with almost no alphas so they asked him to stay. He’s lived in Thailand since August.” Yoongi yawned. “Believe it or not Kim Taehyung was just sworn in as the Kim Clan alpha.”

Dead silence met his declaration. For a moment he wondered if the call had been disconnected but then-

“...What... did you just say?” 

Yoonji’s voice had taken on a strange hollow quality that had her cousin frowning into the receiver. 

“I said Taehyung was just sworn in as a Clan alpha.”

“That... no that can’t be right... You’re saying Kim Taehyung - my Taehyung-”

“What do you mean your Taehyung?!”

“- is a Clan alpha?”

“Yoonji. I can’t believe I’m repeating this a third time. Yes. Tae is the new head of the Kim Clan. I watched him take the oath twenty minutes ago and I have to say-”

A heart wrenching sob cut him off abruptly. 

“Oh goddess what have I done,” she gasped. 

Yoongi’s eyes widened in fear and alarm. 

“Ji-ah? What’s wrong?... Ji-ah?... Ji-ah?!”

But the line was dead. 

Don’t Miss Chapter VII: The Luna… Coming Soon!

If you would like to be added to the taglist, please comment on this post. If you have already asked then you will be automatically tagged in all future updates.

Guys I cannot emphasize enough how much your support has meant to me these last few weeks. 

Your comments and your love kept me going. I truly value it so much and it fuels my creativity. Please let me know what you thought? It is incredibly rewarding and motivating to hear from you!

I really struggled with this update. It was much longer and took a lot out of me... I hope you love the final product as much as I do…

Bonus: The gloves Jimin sent his Luna...

[lovebecomeshim]

hello! your zutara posting today has finally motivated me to ask this question because I came to atla very late(last year, to be specific) and I Love It Very Much but am 1000% out of the loop as far as why what remains of fandom (at least that I've seen among my friends) is so very strongly zutara. I'm not opposed to it per se I just don't really know what has driven it to apparently be such a popular ship? can you help me understand and maybe convert me a little bit?

Hey!! Your ICON! :D I can try but I’m not sure how coherent I’ll be; however I AM sure someone a lot more competent will be willing to add to this. Either way, I’m glad you asked because my plan was to drag down as many people as possible with me.

*smacks the hood of zutara* this baby can fit so much mutual love and support!

This got so long, I’m so sorry. I don’t know how to put it under a cut on mobile and it already got deleted once so I’m scared to mess with it lol. Moving on.

I’m gonna start this with a disclaimer that im on mobile so formatting is tricky and I’m also really new to atla in that I only completed my first watch through in like 2019??? So some of my info is all just based on what I’ve picked up from Discourse 👀 so anyway the sparknotes version: zutara was wildly popular from the beginning. To the point where the atla crew internally disagreed on which ship should be endgame. (Ex. Bryke [showrunners] asked the writers to rewrite The Southern Raiders to make Zuko seem less ideal for Katara than Aang [which failed, depending on who you ask]; the animation team purposefully created a visual parrallel between Oma and Shu in the Cave of Two Lovers and Zuko and Katara in the catacombs under Ba Sing Se in the Crossroads of Destiny; etc.)

The ship was popular enough that Bryke actually chose to display zk fanart at a con for the sole purpose of mocking the fans, but that’s neither here nor there. The entire episode Ember Island Players, while a love letter to/parody of the whole show, was an opportunity to address zutara’s viability as a canon pairing (while, again, mocking zutaras for romanticizing that catacombs scene). Point is! It’s always been popular but with it not being endgame, there’s got to be something that’s given it staying power.

And that’s honestly got to do with three things: their dynamic, thematic cohesion, and potential.

(You know what... you know what, it’s four things. The fourth is they’re so aesthetically pleasing together and individually. Like, they’re just good looking people [specifically when they’re grown but they’re also cute kids] and that absolutely doesn’t hurt) (but it’s not the Point, it’s just nice to point out sometimes)

The dynamic is hard to get into without also looking at the canon pairings, but I think I can do that without unnecessary bashing. It’s just that part of the magic of zutara is really highlighted by what they give to each other that their other relationships don’t.

First off, it’s classic enemies to (would be) lovers. The absolute truest form of it. It’s not too different from how CS started out: a rogue antagonist with a job to do—but no personal vendetta against the future love interest—who is deeply and emotionally invested in his personal storyline (revenge/redemption) with little regard for how it effects other people after his entire life and genuine good nature are marred by suffering, and a fierce warrior girl with a strong moral compass and her own personal investment in stopping him (protect her family and save the world doing it). Obviously frustration and animosity grew between them by the nature of them being on opposing sides, but that just lends itself to the sweetness of their later reconciliation.

The thing is that while they’re wildly different on the surface (he’s a hot-headed prince of a fascist regime who is trying to capture the Avatar to please his father; she’s a nurturing daughter of the chief who is trying to protect and train the Avatar in order to topple his father’s throne) they find out that they have so much more in common both in their experiences and their personalities.

(What follows is an excessive use of the word “both” and I’m sorry about that)(I can edit it. I can do that. That IS an option............)

They both have an innate sense of justice that they are determined to see done (zuko, at the war meeting, sticking up for the Earth Kingdom kid when the guards torment his family, choosing not to steal from the pregnant couple despite his circumstances, abiding by his word to leave the SWT should Aang come willingly, etc.; katara, literally.... at any point). They both have pretty one-track minds at accomplishing certain goals once they’ve put their mind to it, regardless of a lack of support in that endeavor (it goes without saying I guess, but zuko’s entire hunt; katara’s determination to get the earth benders to fight back, her determination to absolutely destroy Pakku until he agrees to teach her, etc.). They both lost their mothers at young ages. Their worlds are war-torn and traumatizing to them both, if in different ways, but that ultimately forces them to grow up too quickly to be wholly independent individuals. They both have issues with their fathers (for WILDLY different reasons, but). They both hold extreme prejudices that they need to learn to overcome (which ties into thematic cohesion)(bit like Lizzie and Darcy in that way but magnified by a million). They’re both extremely emotional and empathetic—which can and often does result in loud outbursts. Katara’s a bit better adjusted and can temper her anger for longer than S1 Zuko can, but they both feel that anger deeply and have no compunctions expressing it (Katara is, usually, more justified, particularly in S1. Again, S1 Zuko is severely maladjusted but at the point when they could’ve feasibly become a couple, he’s so much better off with the way he carries himself). They both struggle with feelings of inferiority in their bending abilities when confronted with prodigal benders like Aang and Azula, but have the work ethic required to double down and become two of the most powerful benders in the three remaining nations. This is a little more minor but it is a parrallel that appeals to some shippers that they both have these alter egos in the Painted Lady (notably fire nation coded) and the Blue Spirit (water tribe coded) that are pretty different from who they are day-to-day and are useful in accomplishing a purpose that they as themselves cannot.

(I’m.... I just realized that this could potentially get very long. Should I have made a slide show with bullet points??????)

Anyway, similar. I know there’s more but there’s literally so much to love about zutara that I’ll drive myself a little crazy trying to compile all the ways they’re similar. (Just gonna say that at this exact moment I went back to add more similarities.... so okay then)

Once they’ve reconciled, we see how all of these things only lend themselves to a deeper intimacy together than they share with literally anyone else. There’s a steady partnership that positions them as the mom/dad of the gaang, while also providing the support necessary to allow the other to not have to carry so much responsibility. A lot of zutaras will point out how zuko is actually depicted doing the more domestic chores that are normally relegated to Katara once he joins the gaang, since the others in the group are two 12-year-olds and sokka. The one that sticks out the most is how he makes tea for the group and then serves them, while Katara is able to just relax with her friends around the fire. Fanon expands upon this a lot to Zuko helping with the laundry or the cooking or whatever else needs doing since he, as a once-refugee, is used to doing his own domestic tasks. Before Zuko joined, Katara was the one mothering everyone, sewing for them, cooking for them, etc. She’s always tending to the needs of the group, and that includes emotionally. She does the emotional labor for the gaang 99% of the time, but when she’s the one falling apart, she’s usually doing it alone and without the comfort that she normally provides for others. Until Zuko. And that’s before they’re even friends.

Which is WHY people romanticize the catacombs of Ba Sing Se so much. Katara is verbally attacking Zuko out of her own righteous anger but also her own prejudice when Zuko, surprisingly, chooses to be vulnerable with her. He’s been on a journey that’s opened his eyes a bit, but he’s never actively chosen to expose the rawest parts of his past to anyone. But for some reason he chooses to do that with Katara of all people. While she’s yelling at him. He sees her humanity, and for once can look past his prejudice and empathize with her. And this time, when she breaks down, she gets to be comforted. Katara normally talks about her mother when she’s trying to explain to someone else that she sees and understands they’re pain, as a form of comfort to them. Here, Zuko uses the exact same tactic. He sees her and he understands. And for zuko? He’s not being shut down. He’s allowed to articulate his pain regarding his mother without being ignored and made to internalize it, and he’s allowed to process how he feels about his scar out loud without being told that he deserved it. And then he lets her touch his scar, something we’ve seen him actively avoid before. He’s completely open to her and she’s completely open to him and all it took was one five minute conversation. She was about to use the little bit of Spirit water that she had, that she was saving for something Important, to heal the scar that still daily causes him pain just because they had, somehow, connected.

Plus there’s the whole parallel to the star-crossed lovers forbidden from one another, a war divides their people—

And then zuko messes up, he regresses, he gets what he wants and he HATES it. And the sense of justice he had as a child has been restored to him against his will and he can’t think of anything he wants to do more than the Right Thing, so he joins team avatar. Before he does that though, we get to see his relationship with Mai, which is where comparison really comes in. And what we see is Zuko, fresh off of his encounter with Katara in the catacombs, trying to be emotionally honest with Mai... and getting shut down and dismissed. Which is just how Mai is and it’s fine, but not for Zuko. Still, he keeps trying, and he keeps getting ignored or scoffed at or yelled at. Which is really a larger symbol for how he doesn’t fit in his old life anymore, but again that’s about thematic cohesion. He tries to articulate his anxieties about returning home, he tries to make romantic gestures, he tries to explain how morally conflicted he’s feeling—and Mai diverts to some kind of physical affection to shut him up and a parting comment that is pretty much always, in essence, “I don’t wanna talk about this.” So they don’t. On the other hand, once zuko and Katara are friends, we see him again emotionally distraught and caught up in his anxieties about facing Iroh, and it’s Katara who comes to him and listens to him and comforts and encourages him.

Similarly, we have Aang clamming up and getting uncomfortable whenever Katara shows any negative emotion, usually resulting in him making excuses or running away. Or, in the case of the Southern Raiders, lecturing her on how she needs to just let go of her anger about her mother’s murder. People have talked this episode to death and usually better than I ever could, so imma... keep it brief. There’s a serious disconnect between Aang and Katara in his ability to empathize with Katara and her needs that has her tamping down her vulnerability and amping up her anger. He tells her that he was able to forgive his people’s genocide and appa’s kidnapping (petnapping? Theft??), which is blatantly not true but also not an entirely equal parrallel to Katara’s situation, and continues making these little remarks throughout the episode. But it’s Zuko that Katara opens up to. It’s with him that she’s able to talk about the most traumatic day of her life, and it’s with him that she’s able to get the closure she needs, cementing their bond as friends and partners. This disagreement between Aang and Katara is then... never resolved. They just never bring it up and hear what the other is saying.

There’s a fic called The Portraits of Ember Island that has a line that so completely sums up the heart of the matter for why people love their dynamic. For context, zuko has woken up early to help Katara with the cooking and they spend the whole time just letting one another talk, and zuko stops to ask why she always just lets him talk. And so she stops to ask why he’s always helping, and it goes as follows:

There’s just... so much mutual support! Trust! Intimacy!! And it just continues like that from the Southern Raiders on, listening to each other, advising each other, watching each other’s backs! And then! Literally saving each other’s lives!! I will never be over the last Agni kai. Not ever. Zuko may have been willing to jump in front of lightning for anyone, but he actually did it for Katara. And in a show, that’s the thing that really matters. It’s a fulfilled trope usually exclusively applied to romantic pairings, and it ended up applying to Zuko and Katara. And then she ran out into the middle of a fight with tunnel vision just to get to him.

Also!! Also Zuko pushing Katara out of the way of the falling rocks at the Western Air Temple!! And Katara catching him as he fell from the war balloon that he fought Azula on!! Before they’re even getting along, they’re the ones reaching for each other. They come to this place of equal ground, as partners, who watch each other’s backs, call each other out but still listen attentively and understand, and provide the support that the other has been sorely lacking up until they knew each other (whether that be from lack of effort or lack of understanding from others, or an unwillingness to accept it for themselves).

Then, trailing along under the surface of this, we see the themes of the show totally embodied by Zuko and Katara as individuals and in their relationship to one another. There’s a YouTuber, sneezyreviews, who has a, like, 2-hour explanation on why she not only loves zutara but also believes that their endgame would’ve actually elevated the writing of atla to new levels particularly because of thematic cohesion and resolved character arcs. It’s the zutara dissertation I never knew I needed, and it’s funny and eloquent and effective, so I’m just going to sum up her section on thematic cohesion to the best of my abilities and then link it for whenever you have the time. And I HIGHLY recommend it, especially if you want a full understanding of what makes zutara so great and gives it such longevity.

Guru pathik has a line that goes something like this: separation is an illusion; things that seem different are just two parts of the same whole. Iroh also tells Zuko something similar: balance and strength are achieved when the different nations come together and influence one another and celebrate what makes them each unique. And this lesson is a massive central arc that both Zuko and Katara go through, moving past a black-and-white, good guys-vs-bad guys, us-vs-them mentality and into a greyer, more nuanced view of the world. Zuko sees the fire nation from an entirely new perspective and while he still loves and hopes for his nations future, he surrenders his blind loyalty to them in exchange for an unflinching loyalty to peace and love. Katara too had to come to terms with the fact that cruel people exist in the earth kingdom and water tribes, while some fire nation citizens are just regular, kind people who also need and deserve to have someone speak on their behalf. And this is honed in directly on how they view each other. They grow in their individual journeys to be open to the humanity in the other and then, once they’ve found that, they’re able to grow more in compassion for others in a beautiful feedback loop. And this is all matched in the symbolism repeatedly and intentionally associated with them in canon: sun and moon, fire and water, yin and yang, Oma and Shu who found love despite their warring nations. Their individual arcs are completed in each other and complement the themes of atla beautifully.

The canon pairs... just don’t. Which, again, is fine. But the very things that give atla longevity and popularity are anchored in zutara. Kat@ang doesn’t accomplish this. They’re... nice. Sweet. Especially when you erase a good portion of their interactions in S3. It could’ve been just a sweet love story. (Personally, the dynamic between toph and aang accomplish the same thing that zutara does, with complementary personalities that fulfill the theme of opposites blending in harmony) M@iko, on the other hand, is less sweet but I think wasn’t even supposed to last. Zuko’s relationship with Mai seems to represent his relationship with his old life as a whole. He can’t be emotionally vulnerable, he’s goaded into abusing his privileges, his agency and opinions aren’t respected. They just don’t have common ground with which to discuss anything that matters, so they don’t. As far as themes, the relationship doesn’t fit with atla. It’s zuko returning to and sticking with what is (on the surface) like him, what’s expected. Fire nation with fire nation. Fluid water bender with the flexible air bender. Like with like, separated from what is different and challenging and complementary.

And all of these things combined of course lead to the potential for the ship. I don’t know how familiar you are with the post-atla canon but... well, miss “I will never turn my back on people who need me”, miss “I don’t want to heal! I want to fight!” ends up living quietly in the SWT as a designated healer who turns a blind eye to the water tribe civil war happening right outside her front door. Which can be fine! People change! Some people just wanna stay inside. I just wanna stay inside! But the potential future for zutara is so much more satisfying, with Katara becoming the most unconventional Fire Lady the uppity old cads who are stuck on the old ways have ever seen. Fanon has her serving as a voice for the other nations within a kingdom at the point of its biggest political upheaval, as a confidante to Zuko who can actually help him while he’s trying to figure out how to move forward and make reparations. They have the opportunity, together, to accomplish what they both have set on their hearts to fight for: positive change that lends itself to harmony and balance. And the steambabies! A popular headcanon is that their firstborn daughter, the crown princess, is actually a waterbender, which causes such an uproar among the people who are adamantly clinging to the old ways. It’s just a future full of potential to be forces for good together, full of trust, intimacy, joy. The exact era of peace and love and balance that zuko announces that he intends to ring in with the start of his reign as Fire Lord is, again, magnified by the very personal zutara relationship. And we love to see it.

tl;dr zutara isn’t for everyone. Some people just don’t vibe with it. Some are nostalgic. Some love the canon they grew up with. Some have been disappointed for years. Some just see themselves in other characters and want their happiness instead. Whatever the reason, that’s fine. But for me, I love the way these two, from the moment they give each other a fair chance, are able to lower their walls and prejudices to see the other for the kindred spirits they are. They see each other’s humanity, and their response is to pour out love and support and compassion. I love that they’re a power couple in battle. I love the symbolism and, honestly, soulmatism that colors their every interaction. I love that they embody the whole storyline of atla in their relationship and how it develops, which is notably why their seasonal arcs always culminate in each finale with how they relate to one another. I love that zuko adopting a waterbending move is what actually saves his life and then katara’s. I love the chemistry! And I love the future they could’ve had, instead of the ones they were given.

So, in conclusion: I just think they’re neat and I hope you do too, at least a little bit. Even if it’s just respectfully from a disinterested distance cause you do you. And now here is the video I mentioned. I’m sorry this post got so long and then I gave you an even longer homework assignment, but I can’t recommend it enough. She says it all better than I can.

[lilkermit14]

Lavender & Mint

Fem!reader x Pero Tovar 

Synposis: In the conventional village of Cullfield lived an unconventional woman who served as an apothecary for the townsfolk. Stubborn and set in her ways, the woman of three tens remains unmarried and childless and plans to continue as such for the rest of her life, much to the horror and confusion of the village. But this unconventional woman has some surprises in store for her when an unconventional man named Pero Tovar rides into town, an event that will change both her and his plans forever—and may flip Cullfield upside down too.

Notes: Idk why I kept mentioning poop complications this chapter but I’m sorry and enjoy. It’s been a while but the CHAPTER is here. Please reblog!!!!

General Warnings: minor injuries, slow-burn, eventual smut, blood, childbirth

For this chapter: Non-sexual references to poop, mention pregnancy, murder, implicit brief reference to infanticide or child abandonment, pre-marital pregnancy and it’s complications in the 1400s, religious “morals”. 

Chapter 5: Garlic 

Last chapter // Next chapter

“When was the last time you passed bowels, Mister Ashdown?” you inquire, pressing on the old man’s stomach knowing you have found the root cause of his stomach issues. He blinks for a moment thinking as he lays on your observation table, before telling you, “quite some time I’m afraid.”

“I see,” you move your hands away putting your hands on your hips, “well, it seems that you just have a case of constipation––burdensome but not something hard to fix or that will have you laying on your deathbed.”

“You sure?” he asks, almost confused, moving to rise up from the table by himself only for you to come to his assistance. You clarify yourself, “Yes, you have many signs that point to it. It can be caused by a lack of competitive foods in your diet and is more likely with old age.”

“I’m not that old,” He interjects, but you compete, “Yes, but you're old enough for a blockage sir––you’ll be glad to know you’ll live to be truly old as long the burden is treated.”

He huffs now in a sitting position with legs dangling from the table, “so what do you have so i’ll shit.”

You huff at his language, “standard garlic will help move the process along, and I’m suggesting you make sure to eat more greens and berries to clear your system.”

You always assumed that you were let free to discuss any matters with your patients when they were the only ones in the shop, as no one else resided in your residence besides you. But that arrangement had changed and you were not the only one that resided in your home, “If my cock and bowels stop working just have someone put me out of my misery.”

You turn rigid and scandalized to see the face of Pero Tovar standing in your back entrance of the shop—entered unbeknownst to you through quiet steps and a lack of clear view. Mister Ashdown has no qualms defending himself, “I’m only five tens and if my cock doesn’t work how is my wife pregnant?”

You want to scream having to hear this conversation and did certainly not want to be reminded of the conversations you were subjected to by Farrah Ashdown. When the woman at four tens and five found out she was pregnant she spared no expense in telling you how it happened. You opted to rush him along before you could get his account of what he does with his wife, “okay sir here’s your supply get going now.”

“Enjoy the shit,” you hear Pero say and before mister ashdown can respond he is out your door. You turn to Pero fury and rage evident on your face as you are prepared to let the flames of hell loose on him. All he has is a stupid look on his face as he lets out the word, “what?”

“You bastard,” you begin pointing your finger at him moving towards him with menace in your voice towards a man that stands unbothered, “you do not talk to ANY of my clients in such manner especially in my shop.”

“Why is that hermosa? I would be rude to that man outside of your business, what makes your apothecary different?” He queries again with that name, only increasing your anger and distaste for him at the moment. With clenched teeth, you answer him, “I don’t care what you say to Mister Ashdown in town, but my shop is a place of respect––a place where anyone can come for health problems even if they are embarrassing. I want people to know they won’t be judged here because if they feel like they will be, they will come when it’s too late and I can’t do anything for them.”

Pero raises his brow at you, but lets you continue your rant uninterrupted, “When my mother was still alive, a young woman at ten and six came to us complaining of diarrhea, something she was embarrassed to talk about because it was gross and she did not want suitors to find out. Turns out she had sickness from a miasma––we took one look down the town well and discovered a deer had fallen in and died overnight.”

“That was lucky,” he comments, still invested in your story despite the vile nature of talking about excretion. You continue, “Yes, and we may not have caught it so soon if she didn’t come to us. The sickness is fast acting, in hours many more villagers could have been sick, but it was only her––and she lived.”

“Lived?” you smile at his question feeling pride at the healing powers your mom had and hope you live up to, “Yes, the sickness causes dehydration quickly but if you keep the person well hydrated and area clean to prevent reinfection––they will live. This summer she gave birth to her third child at my aid.”

“So their trust is important to you?” you give him a simple nod, glad he is understanding what you were asking of him. You turn to clean up the materials you had brought out to examine Mister Ashdown, not realizing that Pero was not done with questions, “Like how that woman came to you the other day crying in distress?”

You freeze––you had really thought the interest in Mariam had ended when William had first asked you about her the day after asking if she was okay. You nodded and told him it was just feminine needs and didn’t serve much interest in men, something that usually turned men away from asking questions. Well not Pero Tovar I guess, “Why was she crying?”

“It’s a complicated matt––”

“Things of safety are something I have to worry about you know,” He interjects, and you turn your head looking at him to see something serious cross his face, “I have to keep everyone in this village safe––you in particular hermosa––and I want to know if theres something you need to tell me.”

“Part of gaining trust is not telling personal information,” you counter, pulling together to formulate a lie, “It’s nothing of safety she was upset about something––she’s a friend of sorts to me.”

You can tell he doesn’t buy it––he can probably pull the full story together even though you doubt he’s heard a single thing about Mariam’s husband beating her––but he accepts, slouching and learning against a table in thought, “William and I may go for a short hunt––there's not much action in this town I’m afraid and we could use some fresh game.”

You nod, “If you catch any pigeon, I know how to handle it so it's not gamey.”

He huffs, “We're not very good hunters I’m afraid, so you’ll probably only get that or rabbit.”

–––––––––––––––––––

Pero Tovar had useful traits to him––like getting you pigeons––but he was mostly an annoyance. His mere presence always had you on edge, as you waited for something, something from him. It was usually something he said but if not it was his scent or stench rather of pine and something that was him. It was also his sloppy manner, the way he seemed raised with no table manners as he ate all your meals. He spoiled Mite, petting him and feeding him table scraps much to your despair. He was also too loud, his boots filling up the cottage and shop with noise, something that never usually happened.

You lent some time today to make more bread for the household, settling at your dining table and working the necessary ingredients for dough together. Mite lays in the corner, not doing his job as per usual and watching you with some sort of interest in the mannerisms of bread making, but he was likely just hoping for more food in the future. Kneading dough you begin to imagine the dough is Pero kneading your frustration into it. You press and it is his stupid broad shoulders that take up too much space. You pull, it’s the curls on the nape of his neck that are too unruly and untidy. You slam it down, it’s that stupid smile that appears on his face when you have entertained him. God you hate Pero Tovar.

“You may want to stop before you overwork the dough sweetheart,” You stop and see Mildred Becker staring at you with an amused look on her face. You huff Jesus, what does she want, “Sorry for my state, I didn’t hear you enter.”

“Don’t worry I understand too well––I always work out my anger into the dough,” you chuckle a little thinking about how a woman with too many children works out anger the same way as you––you definitely hate Pero Tovar, “I just stopped by because I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”

You perk up, “Is Cateline suffering from baby blues again.”

“No, No thank the lord––we’ve been watching over her better this time,” Mildred rounds off, and you remember despite the grievances she gives you, she is a good mother to her children. She was the first to notice that something was wrong with her daughter after the birth and came to you to talk about it. From there Cateline was able to recover and enjoy motherhood, “Something with your house guest Pero Tovar has come to my attention.”

“What did he do,” You ask, prepared to beat Pero Tovar with your broom, but Mildred settles you, “nothing he did, just something someone is doing around him.”

You raise your brow at her beckoning her to continue, “You know Stanislava Rolfe?”

“Of course,” you affirm, surprised she is asking you such a question when you have treated everyone in Cullfield five times over. Mildred continues, “Yes well, She has begun to work at the Inn as a barmaid––she did well with charming Balthasar I guess.”

You were wondering why a poor farmer's daughter’s career path interested you, but you didn’t interject, “I happened to take a quick ale there with my husband, when I noticed something with her and Pero Tovar. You see she appeared extra flirtatious with him––and although barmaids usually are flirty with men in hopes for extra coin, it was more intentional.”

You frown, how could such a beautiful young girl be interested in such a disgusting brute, “Why is she interested in him?”

“Who knows? Many of the girls around Cullfield were excited to see unfamiliar battle-hardened men I supposed,” She ponders for a moment, “all we do know is that she is likely interested in him.”

“I don’t think he is interested in taking a wife,” You contest, brushing aside that Pero would have feelings for the young girl of two tens. Mildred just gives you a hardened stare, “He doesn’t have to be interested in matrimony to want something from her.”

Oh

“Was he showing interest back?” you dig trying to figure out the full extent of what you are formulating must be a whirlwind romance. Mildred hums, “no I suppose not, but sometimes men take persistent interest as a way to have a good time.”

You bite your lip remembering that Pero did not fornicate with prostitutes but barmaids, and feel a ball of ache and pain in your stomach at the thought. Mildred instates, “I came to you about this because I want you to try to stop it.”

“Stop it?”

“Yes, make it clear he is to not have such guests,” Mildred explains, and you can tell by her tone and expression you are in for some sort of story, “You know well enough that things go arigh when an unmarried woman gets pregnant, right.”

“Of course,” you remember the chaos that erupted in families when one of their daughters ended up pregnant, and the hasty weddings that came from it. But Mildred had a different story, “although most of the time it gets swept under the rug with a quick marriage and everyone just chooses to ignore it––horrid things can happen when there's not one.”

Mildred sits down at the nearby table, in clear thought of something dark and you go to sit down at a nearby chair, “When I was about ten and eight, and old enough to understand these things, a girl was taken advantage of by a soldier in our village. She was ten and six, and him far older so he should have had the wisdom not to mess with her. What mattered was after it happened, he left with his troop and was never seen in my home village again. She got pregnant, and tried to hide it at first––her mom was dead and she had no older sisters or aunts to go to, so she was afraid to go to her father. When it became too obvious, hate inspired awful things in the leaders of the village, and by the time she gave birth it accumulated.”

Mildred takes a moment to pause, emotions brewing inside her and you feel yourself frozen in place, “she tried to talk to them, pleading, saying he pressured her––persuaded her, but they all pointed and said witch and condemned her son too. She was burn’t at the stake, and her son––well he was never seen again.”

A pause fills the air as you sit in shock, digesting what Mildred has told you, “I’m sorry you had to witness that.”

Mildred huffs, “I’m sorry too, I made sure to get a husband that would get me out of that village and landed a good one on the way––I had seen what that village did to women and children for the sake of moral value and did not intend to stay so my daughters could see too. Adultery is a two person crime that only one party, the feminine one, receives punishment for.”

“So that's why Pero and Stanislava are of such concern to you?” You assume, and Mildred nods, “Although I think Cullfield is of better standing, I don’t desire to find out what they would do if such a case erupted. The girl may be doing this because she intends to capture a man with a better job, but mercenaries rest for a few women and not those of ten and eight.”

“I can understand her intentions I suppose,” you contemplate, believing that she doesn’t hold much true interest in him, but for a better life. Mildred hums, “so is there a chance you can talk to Pero about it?”

“I already established that he is to not bring guests into my home, and I doubt they would find a secluded enough place otherwise,” you reassure, standing up, “I can even remind him today if you would like.”

“That would be good,” Mildred agrees, joining you in standing and allowing you to guide her to the door, “be on the lookout too if you see her come preying––even though he lacks true interest.”

“I will,” you say, and somewhere in your heart you feel prepared to beat Stanislava Rolfe with your broom instead of Pero.

________________

Gardening was no easy task but it was the most necessary task the runner of an apothecary and a household had. Today your tending to crops was more focused on your food supply rather than collecting the necessary ingredients to keep your shop running. You're pleased to see that the last of your harvest grew well, and know that your winter stock will last even with your house guest. You had already pulled out all the carrots, and beets, and had shucked the vines wounding your house of beans and brussel sprouts. You were now left to work at the tough vines of the gourds and squash, planning on leaving the single pumpkin for Pero to handle––who should be on his way home from helping Balthasar with something at his inn.

Standing up with the final gourd in hand––you see something that fills you with immediate displeasure and sickens you to your core. Pero is walking up to your house pursued by Stanislava. You don’t quite know why you feel this angry at him; maybe it’s because you gave him explicit reminders on conduct or maybe––something else. Seeing the near, and well hearing Stanislava, you attempt to think fast to try to get her to leave. Greeting them both in an unnatural kind manner, “Pero, Stanislava, greetings.”

Pero gives you an immediate strange look while his shadow is oblivious and greets you back, “I was just telling Pero this wonderful stor––”

“Oh I must ask how is your rash healing up,” You feel like clapping your hands over your lips the moment the words fly out of your mouth. Stanislava stops in her tracks staring at you blankly, “what?”

“The one I gave you the ointment for––on your groin,” Oh my God what were you doing.

Stanislava turns bright red, “Good thank you––I––I have things to tend to at home, good evening you two.”

Stanislava hurries off, and an amused smile erupts on Pero’s face, “thank you for finally scaring that crow off––she’s been yapping my ear off with nonsense for weeks––I guess you're my scarecrow.”

“Excuse me?” scarecrow, you were going to kill this man. He smiles, a genuine smile, “Yes you scared off my crow––like a scarecrow would. Plus you're covered in leaves right now.”

“Do not call me that”

“Fine mi espantapájaros”

“I swear I’ll smother you in your sleep”

“Is that a true promise for you? Like how you promised not to tell customers private information yet just shouted about the crow’s crotch rash,” at that your body works on it’s own, taking the gourd in your hand and flinging it at Pero’s chest. It was a magnificent shot, and caused the vegetable to break and splatter it’s internal organs onto Pero’s chest and neck. Pero steps back from the impact and looks down on the goop he’s now covered in, “Now, no good espantapájaros does that.”

You press your palm to your face, “Just cut the pumpkin for me and bring it inside, you could use a good bath anyway, your stench is disgusting.”

“I do not smell,” he retorts, and you ignore him, bringing inside your harvest. You really do hate Pero Tovar.

----------------------

Apothecary’s feelings––hate or nah yall?

Garlic is use to treat a lot of ailments in Arab traditional medicine, including  heart disease, high blood pressure, arthritis, toothache, infections, and––as seen in this fic––constipation. Listen, I know the constipation part is true because I ate a pesto made with raw garlic and LORD did I shit. Anything else, not quite sure but hey worth a shot if you are desperate. 

It is also seen as an immune booster for colds and coughs––in fact if you are congested from a cold putting a clove of garlic in each nostril can clear that shit OUT.  

Garlic is also believed to help asthma symptoms. IDK if it actually is true but that’d be iconic because my mom loves garlic and she has asthma. 

Garlic is my favorite seasoning. I put it in my soup. I put it in my eggs. I put it in my ramen. I put it in my burgers. I put it in my cooch––

taglist:

@poenariuniverse @harleyamidala @yespolkadotkitty @storiesofthefandomlovers @babybelou @legally-a-bastard @computeringturtle @clydesducktape @sixties-loser @buckysalefty @april-14-blog @prettylittlegoldfish @softpedropascal @maybege

[wanderinginksplot]

Hiya, I was wondering if I could please request 3 (Echo) with B+O (Injury/sickness recovery + first kiss)? I don’t really mind who’s in recovery or whether it’s 501st echo/bad batch echo, I just thought these prompts would lead nicely into a confession between our two main characters; also I just want to say I love your writing!! ❤️

Aww, thank you so much for the request and for being so kind, Anon! Sorry this took forever, but I’ve been stuck in an idea block for a week or two, and I ended up writing about four different versions of this. You’re very sweet, but you probably shouldn’t be nice to me, because apparently, it makes me write one-shots that are way too long. So here’s a 2700 word one-shot...

Also! It ended up being a tad spicy toward the end. Nothing anywhere close to M-rating, but more than I usually write in one-shots.

Echo + Injury/Sickness Recovery + First Kiss

The first time you met Echo, you didn't like him very much.

You were in the medbay for a sickness that was taking Coruscant by storm, hitting nat-born GAR members especially hard. As a nat-born intelligence officer, you had been ordered to the GAR's main medbay, which had been sub-divided into large bays full of cots. Almost every cot was filled with GAR personnel who needed treatment for the same sickness.

It wouldn't have been bad if you had been able to take the meds right away and start the healing process, but you had been on a dangerous mission and fought the sickness off for longer than you should have. It had worked and you had survived your mission, but you were severely dehydrated. The medics - all clone troopers, by that point - had ordered you to stay until you were fully healed and they could get your fluid levels back where they should have been. Faced with no other options, you had agreed.

And then the 501st had arrived. 

Through your IV, you had gotten through half a bag of a liquid you preferred not to think too hard about. The medics promised that your meds would be kicking in soon, and you would feel much better before the day was over. For the moment, you felt nauseated and every part of your body ached, especially your head.

When the troopers came in, their white armor painted with blue accents in various styles, they were so loud that the rest of the medbay went quiet. 

One of the medics, his hair shaved short to show off a set of intricate tattoos, hurried up to them as he pulled off his gloves. You could hear his hissed question from your bed on the other side of the large room. "What are you idiots doing here?"

One of the men beamed at him. "We're in trouble!"

You scoffed to yourself. You had no difficulty believing they had gotten on someone's bad side. 

The tattooed medic rubbed his temples. "Hardcase… what did you guys do now?"

You had heard stories about the rowdy 501st from other operatives. They were supposed to be a nightmare to work alongside, all explosions and heroics without any grasp of subtlety. 

One of the other men stepped forward and seemed to be offering an explanation, but he did it in a voice pitched low enough that you couldn't hear him. You were grateful for that, and did your best to fall asleep.

It wasn't to be, however, as one of the 501st made his way down the row of beds in your direction. He chatted with some of the other patients, laughing loudly at their responses. By the time he reached you, you could have cheerfully put a blaster to the 5 tattooed on his temple.

"And how are you doing today?" the trooper belted out. 

"In a lot of pain, actually," you snapped at him, a visceral response to the effect his voice had on your roiling stomach. "Can you please talk more quietly?"

There. A please. You were being polite.

"If I'm quiet, does that mean I can stay over here with you, pretty lady?" he asked with a wink, settling onto the foot of your bed.

You eyed him stonily. You felt revolting from the effects of the sickness, and you were wearing a GAR-issued medical gown besides. ‘Pretty’ was an attempt at flattery, and not even a believable one.

"Fives," the medic with the head tattoos admonished, stepping up to your bedside as well. "Stop. She doesn't feel well and she doesn't need you hanging around, making it worse."

"Me?" Fives asked, sounding both shocked and offended. "We both know I only make things better, Kix."

You sighed and wished with your whole soul that they would both go away. You just wanted to sleep.

"Besides," Fives continued, "We were ordered to help in the medbay. You wouldn't want me to disobey orders, would you?"

From the look on Kix's face, he had lined up a scathing retort that you were dying to hear, but you needed to make a brief announcement. "If this conversation continues right here, I am going to vomit."

You had never seen two grown men move so quickly. You would have smiled if you didn't feel so rotten. 

"Echo," Kix called softly with a worried glance in your direction, beckoning yet another trooper over.

This one had no tattoos, but you vaguely recognized him as the only trooper you hadn't been able to overhear earlier.

"Get Fives away from here," Kix ordered. "Keep him productive and occupied, but don't let him talk."

Echo nodded and gave you an apologetic nod. "I'm sorry about him," he said, indicating Fives, who looked deeply offended.

"Please," was the only response you could muster, cradling your head delicately in your hands. From the bit of your peripheral vision that wasn’t blocked by your palms, you watched his shoulders slump slightly as he towed his brother away. When you finally fell asleep, your dreams were full of Echo’s disappointed face along with strong feelings of guilt.

The second time you met him was only a few hours later. You were having fever dreams. The medication had apparently worn off and no one had noticed. In your dreams, you had called a medic over a dozen times, but you always woke to find that you hadn’t said a thing, and fell asleep again before you could.

It was one of these shallow, fitful dreams that Echo interrupted. “Hey. Hey! Shhh, you’re having a nightmare. Wake up.”

Thoroughly confused by the world of the surrounding medbay, you squinted up at him. “Echo?” He nodded and you launched right into the speech you had prepared in your sleep. “I’m sorry I was rude earlier. I just… my head hurt, and you guys are loud, and-”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” Echo assured you, crouching by your bedside to put himself on your level. “The 501st - and Fives in particular - is very loud. It’s our best quality.”

You snorted at that and Echo’s kind face broke into a warm smile. “You should get back to sleep. It’s really late. Or early. I’m not sure which, but everyone else is asleep, and you should be, too.”

“I think I need some meds, actually,” you admitted. “I feel like death.”

Echo frowned and reached up to brush his fingers over your forehead, flinching back almost immediately. “Kriff, you’re burning up! Hang on, let me grab a medic for you.”

You nodded, but grabbed his wrist before he could leave, “If you bring me some water, I’ll love you forever.”

It was just a childish hyperbole, something you and your family had said whenever you had asked for a favor, particularly a minor one. Echo didn’t seem to have the same connection with it, based on the way he had frozen in place and was staring at you with wide eyes that flashed between your face and your grip on his wrist.

Clearing your throat, you released him and corrected yourself. “I mean, please? I’m very thirsty.”

Echo turned around a moment later and you sighed, hoping your hot face looked like the flush of a fever.

You were half-drowsing when Echo came back with Kix in tow. You jumped a bit when Kix said your name, and Echo was quick to soothe you. “Easy, easy. It’s just us.”

He handed you the biggest glass of water you had ever seen and retreated halfway across the medbay before you had chugged half of it.

The next day, you were actually feeling better. Granted, ‘better’ was a relative term, but you didn’t actively want to die any more, and that was something. The only thing messing up your day was the lingering awkwardness between you and Echo. Every time his circuit around the room took him past your cot, he would avoid your eyes. 

From your calculations, he looped around the gigantic medbay room every six minutes or so. On his next lap past, you softly asked, “Echo?”

You had meant to be subtle and quiet, but you were still a bit less hydrated than you should have been, and it came out as a horrifying croak. If someone had called your name in that voice, you would have immediately run away, but Echo just turned slightly and looked your direction.

“I’m sorry for last night,” you apologized.

“You already said that,” Echo reminded you gently. “The 501st is loud. I understand why you weren’t happy with us.”

“Not about that,” you forced out, half-wishing you could just let him think you had been delirious with fever and thus not responsible for anything you had said or done. “I mean that I’m sorry for saying the whole love you forever thing. It was a joke, but I feel like it landed poorly.”

“There’s no need, really,” Echo told you. He smiled then, a small sad smile. “We clones don’t get to see much good in the universe. Not with this war going on. Even though you were joking, it was nice to hear something like that.”

You stared at him, trying to keep the poker face the GAR had hired you for.

“Besides,” Echo said with a laugh, “if you want to see how a bad joke really sounds, hang out with Fives for a few minutes. You’ll have plenty of opportunity to see the difference!”

You chuckled at that and the smile he gave lit his whole face as he continued his patrol. You watched Echo leave, thinking hard. It was ironic that this was the conversation where your heart had melted just a touch. It wasn’t love, not yet, but this third exchange left feelings that were inappropriate considering that you had known him for less than a day.

That night, you couldn’t sleep, betrayed by all of the napping you had done during the day. Echo was patrolling the room again and noticed you on his fourth lap.

He crouched by your bedside once again. “Can’t sleep?”

“Nope,” you admitted with a sigh. “Can you?”

Echo frowned. “I can, but I’m on watch right now.”

“On watch,” you repeated skeptically. “For what?”

“Someone has to make sure the patients are doing okay while the medics sleep,” he explained. “It’s a very important job.”

“Your brothers are all playing sabacc in the corner,” you pointed out. “Go join them. Or, better yet, get some sleep. I haven’t seen you take a break yet.”

“You were unconscious for over half of the day,” Echo reminded you. “I could have been on break then.”

“You weren’t,” you told him confidently. “Because you wouldn’t have known that I slept the whole time.”

Echo frowned. “You’re too smart to work for the army.”

“Intelligence officer,” you explained simply. 

Lifting his eyebrows in exaggerated shock, Echo leapt to his feet and gave a dramatic salute. You pretended to aim a kick in his direction and you both dissolved into muffled giggles in an attempt not to wake any of the other patients.

“If you won’t try to sleep, at least sit down?” you requested, indicating the foot of your cot as you struggled to sit up so you could move out of his way. “You’re stressing me out. I can’t be expected to get better if I’m stressed.”

“We can’t have that,” Echo teased. He helped you sit up before he did anything else, but the awkwardness of the position left him hauling you up by your armpits. You were thankful that you had found the strength to walk to the sonic shower that day, at least. “Not like I can get sick from you, anyway.”

Echo sat talking with you for hours, even after his brothers had all drifted off at their sabacc table. Before you fell asleep again, he brought you another giant glass of water. You accepted it with a smile. “Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

He nodded and left so you could get some sleep. By the time you had finished the glass, he was on the other side of the medbay and couldn’t hear you mutter, “Love you forever.”

For the next few days, Echo lived by your bedside. The conversations you had made you laugh so hard that you went into the occasional coughing fit and got the evil eye from Kix. So, you were less pleased than you had expected to be when Kix told you that you could be discharged the following day.

That night, you couldn’t sleep. Getting your sleep pattern back under control was going to be the biggest struggle, you reflected, staring at the massive beams supporting the ceiling.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” Echo teased, walking up. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

You waved a hand around dramatically. “I’m trying to commit these beautiful surroundings to memory. If I’m leaving tomorrow, I’ll need to remember the enchanting way the dust clings to that wall over there.”

Suddenly serious, Echo asked, “You’re leaving tomorrow?”

You nodded, and couldn’t tell if it was your imagination, or if he really looked disappointed. Still, he mustered a smile. “I’m glad.”

With a falsely offended gasp, you replied, “You’re glad I’m leaving? That’s rude!”

“No, I mean-!” Echo sputtered, grimacing at you when you started to laugh. “I’m glad you’re getting better. Even if you’re just as mean as the day I met you.”

“Yeah, I’m terrible,” you agreed with a grin. 

“You are not,” he countered immediately. “You’re sweet and funny and- I’ll miss you. Selfish, huh?”

“I’ll miss you, too,” you admitted. “I guess we’re both selfish. But, hey, you’ll finally get some sleep now!”

“I suppose I will,” Echo said with the ghost of his usual smile. “At least we can have one last overnight conversation. Unless you’re too tired?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Sit down, Echo.”

The two of you talked for hours that night. The medbay steadily got more silent and your eyes began to ache. Try as you might, you were still recovering from your illness and the point came when you couldn’t fight it off any longer. You fell into a light doze as Echo was talking.

You were dimly aware as he finished his sentence and waited for a response, but you couldn’t make yourself say anything. Echo gave an amused sounding hum and stood from your cot. You immediately missed his warmth, but felt like he was still standing by you.

Soft lips pressed against your forehead and left as Echo started to move away. “What was that cop-out bantha dung?” you asked blearily. 

Echo jumped a bit and stared down at you, but you were half-asleep, impulsive, and you knew what you wanted. You sat up to grab his shoulders and brought him back down to you, kissing him with as much fervor as an extremely tired person could muster.

He kissed you back, opening his mouth to release an almost-soundless groan, and you were suddenly wide awake. With both of you actively participating in your embrace, it didn’t take long for the pair of you to get carried away. 

When you finally broke apart, it was only because someone had cleared their throat sharply. 

Echo pulled back, bracing on his forearms to look up at Kix while you peered at the medic from under Echo’s chest. When had he gotten on top of you? His hip brushed against your upper thigh and you abruptly didn’t care anymore.

“I take it you’re well enough to be released from here?” Kix asked, a raised brow accentuating his smirk. 

You glanced around to find that half of the medbay was awake and staring at you and Echo with expressions ranging from bleary bewilderment to amused approval. Some of Echo’s brothers were awake as well, though their faces ran heavily to outright shock.

“Uh, yeah. I’m ready to go home,” you agreed, glancing up at Echo. “Wanna come with me?”

Echo nodded and glanced up at Kix. The medic shrugged and looked at the ceiling. “No, I have no idea where Echo went. He worked several around the chrono shifts and then he disappeared. I assume he went to get some well-deserved rest. Sign here.”

The last part was directed at you and you obligingly scrawled your name on the datapad he was holding out in your direction. 

“Your personal effects are in the front room,” Kix informed you. “Drink some water now and then, would you?”

“Of course, thanks,” you said absently, attention already stolen away by the fascinating blush creeping up Echo’s cheeks. You slipped out from under him and grabbed his hand to tow him behind you. “C’mon. You’re gonna love my apartment.”

---

A/N - ahh, why did this end up being such a novel? Sorry about that! If you want to read similar works, check out my masterlist or make a request based on this post (or make something up and I’ll do my best!). Thanks for reading!

[sidespart]

The Fall of King Romulus Part 2

Summary: Twin Princes Remus and Romulus are cursed at birth with Honesty and Obedience. When Romulus, who cannot disobey any order, is told to kill his brother the next time he lays eyes on him, he changes his name to Roman and runs away. Roman joins up with a misfit group of adventures and plans to never return to his homeland. But the fae have other plans for him...

Warnings (for whole fic not necessarily individual chapters): Violence, mind whammying/memory altering, curse of obedience related consent issues, references to sex, references to war related injuries/PTSD, references to child abuse/neglect (YMMV on that one but just in case), antagonstic-but-not-exactly villian!Janus, Extremly-moraly-dubious-but-not-exacty-unsympathetic-Remus

Pairings: Mostly Platonic LAMP and all the found family feels. Could be read as pre-slash. 

Prologue     Chapter 1  

“Young Sir! Come look at this! A beautiful gift for your sweetheart, no?”

Logan bit back a curse as Roman, once again, slipped form his side and almost skipped towards the merchants stall.

They had finally left the forest earlier that morning. Barley a quarter- mile beyond the tree line the path merged with the great eastern road, already heaving with traders wagons heading to Steveange for the monthly market. Roman had gone to work immediately, finding an exhausted looking couple and charming them into exchanging a ride in the back of their cart for a selection of songs to soothe their gaggle of bored children.

Even Logan, no lover of music, could admit that Romans voices was objectively pleasing. Even the wailing baby settled down under the effects of his lullaby.

The closer they got to the city gates the more densely packed the road became, to the point where their pace might have been improved by walking. But the rest was welcome and the sun was still high in the sky by the time they had finally made it to the city square. They might even have made it to their target in good time, had Patton not insisted that they stay to help the family unload every box and crate from their cart before moving on.

Patton stood nearly seven foot tall, with shoulders to match and the patience of a Raspanzean monk. Moving him when he had decided not to move was difficult at the best of times.  Currently, with a good deed in need of doing and no less than three small children clambering all over him, it was going to be impossible.

Logan looked at Virgil for support.

Virgil was already manhandling the smallest sack of produce down from the cart, under close supervision of a surly looking nine year old.

Logan looked back at Patton. Patton had somehow acquired a fourth child, and was swinging the small boy gently back and forth with one giant arm.

Logan sighed.  

Eventually they agreed that Patton and Virgil would stay to help the family, and then set about finding the four of them somewhere to sleep. Logan and Roman would head down the main street, complete their mission and return with, hopefully, enough coin to let them settle here for at least a weeks rest.

Which Logan would have no problem with. Except that the monthly market seemed far larger than when Logan had visited the city as a young apprentice. The city square was packed with stalls filled with meat, produce, spices and enough live animals to generate a stink so strong even Patton and his twice broken nose winced. The main road meanwhile was filled with more temporary looking stalls offering books, jewellery and potions of every colour alongside the usual clothing and home wear. These continued the whole length of the road from the square to the city temple and even spilled over into the side streets and thoroughfares of the city proper.

All of which apparently meant Roman couldn’t walk for more than two minutes without stopping to gawk at whatever gaudy display was on offer or chat with the seller.

“Roman!” he caught up with the wayward bard at a jewellers stall, where a heavy set man with salt and pepper hair was holding up an extremely impractical looking necklace for him to inspect

“Oh there you are specs” Roman grinned at him, “have you seen Master Galvenets wares? Look how shiny!”

“Is this your sweetheart?” The jeweller – presumably Master Galvenet – grinned at Logan with far too many teeth and reached below the makeshift counter top, “Then may I suggest this one instead – to match his  eyes?”

The necklace he presented was even bigger than the last. With blue glass masquerading as the sapphires surrounded by enough ostentatious filigree to decorate a dukes bed chamber. Logan stared,  momentarily struck dumb by his own disdain.

Roman nudged him, waggling his eyebrows and giving him a lecherous grin “What do you think sweetie? It does match your eyes.”

Logan blanched. Turning quickly to the seller her snapped out “We are NOT together. And also - we’re, extremely poor. And not interested.”

He grabbed Roman’s wrist and proceeded to drag the giggling bard with him back towards the main street. “Can you try to focus?” Logan glared at him, “remember this package is time sensitive.” Superstitiously, Logan patted his pocket, feeling the shape of the vial they had been entrusted to transport to Steveange still safely stored inside.

Roman failed to look chastened. “Logan, it’s a herb. And we we’re asked to deliver it within a week – it’s only been five days! Your forest short cut worked, alright, the worlds not going to end if we stop to appreciate some fine wares on our way.”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “You consider Master Galvenet’s works, ‘fine wares’?”

Now Roman had the grace to look a little sheepish “They had a charm of their own.”

Logan hmphed. “They were very clearly fake.”

“Oh?” Roman linked their arms together, tugging him back into the steady stream of south bound shoppers, “How could you tell?”

Logan told him.

The ensuring lecture took them the rest of the way down main street, and into the rabbit warren of alleyways that branched out behind the city’s temple.

Even here, there were traders. Many had their wares spread out on blankets on the ground instead of stalls, but they seemed less inclined to call over whilst the two of them walked together deep in discussion and so, mercifully, there was less opportunities for Roman to get distracted.

“A festival?” Roman suggested. Logan shrugged, it was possible, something was certainly occurring to draw such an enormous throng.

Eventually, Logan had to admit that his boyhood memories were not enough to navigate every twist and turn of the city streets and Roman stepped away from him to ask a couple for directions. Logan took the chance to study him, but whatever fit of irrationality had led to him wandering back through half the forest the previous night seemed to have past. Even the scratches on his hands and arms had healed almost completely overnight, helped along by a generous slathering of healing salve from Virgil.

(Logan had, at the time, pointed out that the healer was using up rather a lot of their  dwindling supply for an extremely minor injury. Virgil had hissed at him)

Roman was often contradictory. He would spend a day whining about his need for beauty sleep but then stay up till the early hours to fulfil every song request from whatever crowd they managed to gather. He fussed with his makeup and performance clothing as much as a lady at court, but kept his hair cropped unfashionably short and made no effort to seek out high class patrons who could have kept him in silks and finery. He was talented enough with a lute to spend the social season entertaining upper class lords, and talented enough with a sword to spend the rest of his time as a body guard or becomes some towns local hero. Instead he travelled with them.

“You know, I’m fairly sure there were some gentlemen painting miniatures on the main road, if you want to keep staring at me that is.”

Logan flushed, caught. “Don’t be insufferable.”

“You don’t pay me enough for that” Roman grinned cheekily.

This was an old joke. Virgil had originally found Roman, and hired him as a body guard and escort for a three day trip through a bandit ridden mountain pass. Three weeks and many diversions later, they had emerged on the other side of the mountain. Roman had become as much a part of the group as any of the others and had stayed to travel with them as a friend rather than a hire.

Logan was glad of it. Most of the time.

“Did you get the directions?”

“I did, I had to ask three people before I found someone who recognised the address – the city’s full of tourists!”

 *

 The woman who opened the door looked like the word crone ha been invented especially for her. Her grey hair stuck out from a shoddily tied scarf and her face looked like at any moment it might collapse under the weight of her own frown. She scowled at the pair of them, looking like she already learned everything there was to know about them from one glance and found it all spectacularly unimpressive.

“What do you want?” She snapped.

Logan resisted the urge to smooth down his waistcoat like he was presenting to a lecturer and stepped forward.

“Good afternoon. We have been sent by Madam Valarie to –“

This, if anything, seemed to make the scowl deepen.

“My sister? What does that witch want?”

“To deliver you …this”

With a flourish Logan produced the vial and held it aloft. The thin shaft of light spilling from the doorway made the red herb glow a burning orange in the dim of the alley.

“And you think I’m dramatic.”

“Shush.”

Needlessly dramatic or not, he had the woman’s attention. She reached towards the vial with trembling hands but Logan drew back before she could make contact.

“Your sister paid us half, with the promise of the second half on delivery.” Reaching into a different pocket  he produced an envelope and held it out. “She told us to give you this – it should validate our story.”

The woman muttered something decidedly uncomplimentary under her breath but accepted the envelope. Without speaking further she turned and retreated into the hovel, leaving the door open behind her

The two men exchanged a glance, and then Roman deftly stepped around Logan to walk in first, one hand on his sword.

He needn’t have bothered, the short hallway opened up to small kitchen, where every conceivable surface was covered with books, scrolls and bric-a-brac. Three of the four walks were taken up with shelving where kitchen ingredients and appliances sat shoulder to shoulder with  ornaments, candles and what looked like half a taxidermy ostrich.  

If the old woman had hired muscle ready to take to leap out and take the herb by force, they would have had a hard time finding space to stand.

“My sister claims this was picked under the glow of a full moon.”

Logan nodded, “that is what we were given to understand.”

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion, “For this to be worth the price it needs to be used within ten days of the moon’s glow, my sisters village is two weeks ride away on the eastern road.”

“We came through the forest.” Logan explained, “Also, I sealed the herb in a pre-sterilised sample jar – the lack of air exposure should help it retain its freshness far beyond its normal time frame!”

The was a silence. The woman was now looking at Logan not with suspicion, but with the exasperation of a teacher whose student has just said something rather stupid.

Logan crossed his arms.

“If you look at the specimen carefully you will notice no discoloration or other signs of degradation – this method can be used to prolong the lifespan of most vegetation and-“

She interrupted him by laughing, an awful crows call of a noise, and held up a hand for silence.

“You are obviously quite uneducated.” she told him cheerfully “And you are bothering Mittens.”

“I beg your pardon I- wait what?”

“YOWCH!”

Logan spun round, as much as he could in the cramped space, only to find Roman desperately trying to relinquish a scrambling ball of fur back onto one of the high shelves. The cat had already dug its claws deep enough into the bards wrist to draw blood, and was currently clinging on for dear life as Roman waved his hand around like Patton trying to kill a spider.

“My apologies Master Mittens” Roman told the cat a few moments later, after Logan and the crone had  finally convinced it to release him “I thought you were a hat.”

“Why must you touch things.” Logan hissed and was surprised by a much gentler laugh from their hostess.

“Aw now,  Mittens is not the most dangerous thing you could have touched in my kitchen. Here. Drink.”

Logan blinked as she shoved hot cup into his hands. Its contents was extremely dark and disturbingly viscous. A few drops glopped over the side, singeing his finger. He held it as far from his body as he possibly could.

“And for you?” She held up a second cup towards Roman who smiled politely but shook his head ‘no’

“No thank you, Madam.”

“We’re both fine.” Logan said firmly, putting the cup down on one of the first patches of exposed surface he could find. “If you wouldn’t mind completing our transaction we will take our leave of this…place.”

She looked at him for one long moment and then turned back to Roman.

“Your friend says you passed through the Serpents Forrest”

Logan frowned - “That’s not what the locals called it.”

“Well that’s who lives there.” The crone snapped without turning around, “One of the darker fae. I’m not surprised he” – she jerked her chin back towards Logan – “ got through alright, since the gods look after fools.”

“Excuse me!”

“But how did you manage?”

Roman juts shrugged, eyes sparkling with mirth at Logan’s outraged expression. “We saw no one Madam, but if we had done - I carry iron.”

That rusted hunk of junk Logan thought, but the crone was nodding approvingly

“A clever boy” she patted Roman cheek, “I thought so when I heard your accent – you’re from beyond the mountains.”

Logan frowned. He was not gifted when it came to interpreting expressions, but he thought Romans smile had suddenly become very fixed.

“So are you.” Roman replied softly.

There was a moments quiet whilst the two looked at each other and Logan tried not to roll his eyes out of his own head. All they needed to do was a simple swap of coin for produce and instead Roman had manged to find the only other grown adult in Steveange who still believed in fairies.

Whatever northerner to northerner communication was happening seemed to pass, and the crone reached past Roman to pull a small burlap sack from the shelf. Mittens took the opportunity to skitter across her arm and settle himself on her shoulder.

“Here you are then.” She tipped the sack out on top of an open tome, producing three cloves of garlic and a hefty pile of coins Logan couldn’t help but stare. That was more money than Logan had seen in one place since he had started traveling.

The crone picked out three gold pieces and a fistful of silver and handed them to Logan. He counted quickly and handed her the vial. Transaction complete, Logan headed immediately to the door, but turned back when he realised Roman wasn’t with him

He was still trapped between the crone and the shelving. “Will you come and see me before you leave the city?” she asked “It would be nice to share my tea with someone who would appreciate it.”

Logan thought to the gelatinous mess in the tea cup and gagged but Roman just smiled

“If time allows my lady.” He brought her withered hand to his lips and deposited a courtly kiss before sidestepping her and heading after Logan.

The city alley smelt almost like fresh air after the over mixture of incense, garlic and cat that her permeated the crones kitchen, and Logan breathed it in gratefully before setting off. Roman falling into sept beside him.

Logan glanced at him, uncertain.

He knew Roman was from the Northern Kingdom. He guessed from his speech patterns that he either grew up upper class or was truly committed to his larger than life bard persona. He had mentioned a brother once, off hand, and during an argument compared Logan to a tutor he’d disliked who had made him study maps until he could recount every river on the continent by heart.

That was all he knew.

Logan was curious by nature, a trait which tended to get him in trouble. He would have liked to pepper Roman with a hundred questions about life beyond the mountains, but Patton had told him once he should only ask a question about a sensitive subject if he was prepared to answer one himself.

None of them like to talk about where they came from, but that was fine. They were going forward together.

It was obvious though, that meeting his countryman had shaken Roman. He walked silently, even when they turned into a wider street and found the market still in full swing, shoppers crowding around each stall, he made no comment, only stepped closer to Logan.

If he was Patton, he might have known what to say to sooth whatever emotion was clouding Romans features. If he was Virgil, he might have made a joke or pointed out an interesting stall  to distract him

As it was..

“So do all Northerners believe in fairy stories or is it just you two?”

“What?”

“The dark fae of the forest? She can’t have been serious.”

Roman straighten up, fixing him with a mock glare “Logan! You’re honestly going to keep pretending you don’t believe in magic? You travel with an elf!”

“Half-elf. And there’s nothing mystical about him.”

“He makes potions Logan!”

“He mixes herbs into useful medicines, it’s no different than any human herbalist.”

“He chants when he does it. And his eyes do that thing.” Roman wiggled his fingers in front of his face, apparently to illustrate ‘that thing’.

“Which I’m sure helps him know how long each concoction needs to stew before adding the next ingredient. You cannot decided a race is magical just because they’ve failed to invent clocks.”

“Urgh!” Roman threw up his hands, “Sometimes you sound like you’re from Arkaze’yed.”

Arkaze’yd was on the western coast. The most industrially advanced of the great cities, they had recently converted the city temple into an extension of the university.

Logan preened. “Thank you for the compliment.”

Roman pulled a face. “You are such a - ooh! Jam tarts!”

He darted away again, but this time Logan couldn’t fault him. A boy was hastily unpacking a crate of what looked like fresh jam tarts onto his masters stall and the scent was delicious

They had to wait for three families ahead of them before they could finally have their turn. Roman picked out four of the tarts and chatted happily with the seller whilst Logan carefully counted out the money.

“I had herd the monthly market of Steveange was something to behold but this! Are you going to go all night?”

“Most likely.” The trader told them happily, “The towns packed for the coronation.”

“Coronation?”

“Princess Stephanie is to become queen,” the man gushed, one hand over his heart in what Logan considered to be an alarming display of emotional royalism. “The guests have been arriving all week.”

Logan nodded absently. That explained the hubbub. The rich went traveling and the poor went to see them. A coronation was a good enough excuse for a festival. If you liked that sort of thing.

“They say,” the trader whispered leaning forward, apparently unbothered by Logan’s total lack of interest in royal gossip, “That even the mad Prince is coming - Remus of Notaleveale!”

“Is that so.” said Logan, monotonously “Here’s your coin.” He turned to Roman to claim his pastry and – stared.

All the colour had drained from Romans face. He gaze was fixed on the trader, his eyes so wide he looked quite wild.

“Roman?” Logan asked, as gently as he could. He realised that Romans hands were shaking the second before the bag of pastries fell from his grip.

“Roman- ROMAN hey-“

Other customers were starting to push between them, Logan bent down quickly to rescue the bag form the floor and reached out to grab his friends hand.

But when he looked up, Roman had gone.

Part three

[aliensunflower-fics]

Marinette’s Big Fall: An angsty Prompt

[ I have had not one. Not two. But THREE anonymous asks for some Miraculous ladybug angst with a pinch of salt SO here you go. Also because people keep asking me if they can make fics from my prompts I will just put here that YES you can I will love you if you do, please just tag me so I can squeal. I always love fan-art and I always love fics based off my ideas just go nuts guys. ]

If you asked the students of Bustier’s classroom what happened that sunny tuesday at 1:36pm they would all tell you it was an accident. None of them had meant for anything to happen and none of them had so much as laid a finger on the dark haired girl. It was just an accident that was all, but still their faces would lose blood and they would shake as they remembered the sight of Marinette Dupain-Cheng laying still as a stone at the bottom of the stairs. If you asked them to start at the beginning they would take a shaky breath and start their tale at the first warning bell of the school day, before Marinette had arrived and when Lila Rossi did.

The italian had for months been telling them of Marinette’s misdeeds and though many were proven to be false it seemed like not a day went by where Lila didn’t have some new to say about the bakers daughter. That days newest tale was about how Marinette had ruined Lila’s photoshoot at the park with Adrien. It was suppose to be a romantic shoot for valentines day and Marinette had arrived at the park where it was taking place with little Manon. Lila claimed that Marinette bribed the child into pushing Lila into the fountain during the shoot thus ruining the whole thing and making her look bad in front of the employer. Now hearing this story the students of Bustier’s class felt mixed Marinette was prone to fits of jealousy but would she really bring a child into it? Some were angry at Marinette for her repeated felonies some were unsure and one other a certain Adrien Agreste still had no idea what everyone meant about Marinette being jealous and while he knew that Lila had ended up in the water and that it was Manon who did it... He also knew for a fact that Marinette was in no way involved.

The debate over Marinette’s innocence would last until the young designer arrived then the class would fall into steely silence all fuming and grumbling trying to justify the Marinette they knew and loved with the jealous green eyed monster Lila suffered under. As they day wore on Alya always the seeker of truth began badgering Marinette trying to get to the bottom of the whole affair, and while Marinette admitted to being at the park and admitted to babysitting Manon and yes she even confirmed that Lila wound up in the fountain she claimed no responsibility arguing that little Manon had just wanted a hug from Adrien and had accidentally shoved the italian. This information spurred only new arguments though they happened without Marinette’s knowledge in back and forth messages when the teachers back was turned. Lila meanwhile continued to weave her web sending her own messages to the class with new accusations and ‘evidence’ something had to give as the tensions rose and at exactly 1:00 when Mme. Bustier stepped out something did give indeed.

No one really remembers the argument only who was leading it. Alya was a good person a bit too trusting and maybe a bit too gullible and brash but she always protected the weak and thats why Marinette loved her. The problem was right now Alya thought the one who needed that protection was one Lila Rossi. Marinette did her best to diffuse the situation she argued that it was a child’s mistake that Lila should let it go. Alya argued that Marinette always had issues with jealousy and that she needed to fess up and apologize. Marinette would no apologize for something she didn’t do and so the argument continued, classmates joined in things got more and more heated in the spur of the moment with everyone yelling and Lila sobbing Alya snapped and said two things she never should have. One she told Marinette they were no longer friends unless Marinette stopped being jealous. And two, she revealed just why Marinette was ‘jealous’ her crush on Adrien Agreste. The moment the words left her mouth Alya was hit with regret, the moment she saw embarrassment in her friends face and tears hot and fresh welling in her eyes she was hit with shame. No one spoke as the bakers daughter let out a choked sob but suprising them all it wasn’t an accusation of anger at Alya for outing her secret that left the dark haired girls lips it was a quiet shaky and broken:

“W-Were not friends a-anymore?” Followed by yet another choked and heartbroken sob.

Before Alya or anyone could answer the girl bolted for the door shaking with sobs. Everyone stood shocked still for a moment before Adrien bolted up and rushed after the girl the rest of the class followed. But they never reached Marinette in time. In her distressed state the pigtailed girl had tried to make a break for home but she was clumsy and clumsier still when upset so when she rushed down the stair she tripped and everyone could only watch in silent horror as the bakers daughter only managed to let out a gasp before her body slammed into the hard concrete. When the students of Bustier’s recalled everything later they would note with some shock that it was Chloe who moved first yelling out Marinette’s name, not her last name no, just her name as she rushed down the stairs and to the dark haired girls side. She noted the young girl wasn’t responding and quickly snapped for Sabrina to phone an ambulance while she continued to monitor Marinette. No one else would move, Alya would cry silently and in horror as Chloe called out to Marinette and checked her pulse, Nino would clutch his hat and stare mouth agape as Marinette lay like a lifeless corpse, Adrien Agreste would fall to his knees at the top of that stairs his eyes like saucers as he tried to comprehend what had happened. And Lila Rossi? She would feel every bit of blood in her body turn into ice as guilt gripped onto her and told her that this, all of this was because of HER.

Everything that happened next was a blur, the ambulance arrived Marinette was driven away with Chloe of all people. The police arrived, Bustier and Damocles felt there sweat turn cold as they were questioned, the other students of the school would stand around murmuring and pointing at the Akuma Class Rose would hear the kinder people ask what happened in hushed tone, Juleka would hear the crueler people say that the Akuma class had tried to kill the one person they couldn’t akumatize. Soon enough parents arrived and dragged away their children Kim and Alix would notice the small patch of blood on the concrete where Marinette landed, they would later puke thinking about it, but they told no one of what they had seen.

Meanwhile on the way to the hospital Tikki was in a panic, her dearest chosen her most precious and rare creation soul was BROKEN so many bones and bits of her body were mangled beyond repair... Well beyond NORMAL repair but Tikki was a god, a sentimental god at that and she would not let heaven or hell get in the way of her helping Marinette survive no matter the cause. And so sitting silently, hidden in the girls hair out of sight of the paramedic and Chloe who was telling them all she knew of Marinette’s medical background Tikki used her magic to mend all she could, she would make sure that her sweet precious Marinette would be alright but while she mended the broken body Tikki knew that there would be a price to pay. Magic always came with a price. In the past when she’d used her magic to heal holders this way some had lost their eyesight, others their voices, some would lose a limb, Tikki had no idea that cost Marinette would pay but she knew whatever it was her precious little bug would be alright.

And she was. The doctors were shocked to find that while Marinette had a broken leg and two broken ribs, some deep cuts that would never fully heal, and some awful bruising that would leave the girl sore for who knows how long she was in fact just fine. There was no internal bleeding, and no serious brain trauma, and somehow she’d be just fine to walk when her leg healed up. Sabine and Tom cried tears of joy at the news and stayed by the young girls side. Tikki was also pleased with the news from her hidden spot where she lay utterly exhausted. She knew still that their would be a price to pay but at least Marinette was alive and well. The bakers daughter did not wake up until early the next day and when she did she was mobbed by her parents. She smiled at their concern and when the doctor came in to greet her he decided to check her memory.

“Standard procedure.” He said. “It’s not unusual for there to be some minor memory loss surrounding the incident itself were just going to check.”

And so the questions began. They started with things like her birthday, and her parents names and ages, then they moved on to recent events, so far no problems. Finally they asked about the day itself and the ‘incident’ in questions Marinette opened her mouth to answer then paused thoughtfully. She couldn’t remember. Not unusual assured the doctor, and then he returned to asking other questions probing gently to ensure everything was alright, and it seemed to be up until the doctor asked a simple question.

“What’s your best friends name? And can you describe them.”

Marinette froze and stayed silent. Tikki suddenly felt a strange twist in her tummy. Sabine and Tom looked at their daughter uncertainly. Finally after a long pause. Marinette spoke with a strained laugh.

“I uhh dont remember having one sir.” Sabine felt her stomach suddenly drop, hidden away behind a plant Tikki felt the same thing.

Concerned by the answer the doctor probed more with Tom and Sabine joining in. The answers were startling. Marinette Dupain-Cheng had forgotten every single person that was present when she fell down the stairs. She could recall other students at the school and her teacher, but all the students of her own class? She could not recall their names or their faces. When her parents asked about a specific memory the first time Nino and Marinette met and became friends. Marinette’s eyes lit up. She remembered the event, she remembered someone being bullied and helping them and then they became friends. Her parents were hopeful and the doctor calmly asked Marinette to tell them who the bully was and who the person being bullied was. At that all Marinette did was frown and hold her head. She could remember the incident but... The faces of the bully and the one being bullied were blacked out she had no idea who they were. They tried asking her if she knew the bullied boys favorite things, she had no idea, his name? Nothing. Favorite color? Nope. It was odd extremely so and the only theory the doctor could offer was trauma based memory lose triggered by stress and the possible incident surrounding her accident.

Later when her parents left and it was safe. Tikki emerged and was overjoyed to learn that Marinette remembered her and being ladybug. Tikki was a bit worried about the holes in her dear chosens memories but she knew that this was the price Marinette had payed. She got to keep her life and all her limbs and eyes but she had lost something precious, her friends, they were now black holes burned into faded memories. And it extended into her superhero life. Marinette knew Rena Rouge she could remember her powers and her skill, but when Tikki asked who she was Marinette could only frown and hold her head as it throbbed. Alya, Nino, everyone even Adrien were gone, Marinette had the memories but no faces, no names, no attachment she had lost her friends. Tikki felt guilty of course and told Marinette as much but the young girl just kissed her Kwami’s head and confidently said that they would figure it out.

It had been a week sense Marinette’s big fall. And the students of Bustier’s class sat restless in their seats. None of them had been able to check up on Marinette as her parents had forbidden visitors and the bakers themselves were illusive now a days as they kept close to the hospital keeping their daughter company. All anyone knew was that Marinette was alive, and while that was great news it wasn’t enough. And to make matters perhaps more odd then Marinette’s disappearance was the complete inactivity by Hawkmoth. It was as if he was busy dealing with something else. Like maybe his teenage son who had been expressing all of his teenage rebellion and angst in a concentrated dose ever sense a certain bakers daughter had fallen down the stairs. Adrien was indeed the most miserable about the whole situation, he’d given up on bathing, moped all day, snapped at Lila for even opening her mouth, and was refusing to care for himself or attend any and all photoshoots and extra curricular activities. Adrien’s rebellion was causing big problems for Gabriel’s business and he was stuck rushing about trying to re-organize events and juggle his son who had become terrifyingly good at escaping the house to go to school no matter what kind of locks were installed.

As the day wore on for Bustier’s students ignored the looks given to them by the other students in the school. More then a few of them blamed them squarely for what had happened to Marinette while others shot them looks of sympathy or concern. The class as a whole looked like they were from a bad zombie movie, but the one who looked perhaps the worse of them all was Lila Rossi, while some would try and argue its because of how bad she felt for poor Marinette others would recognize that she seemed paranoid and on edge with her eyes darting about and how quick she was to defend herself against even the smallest assumed accusation against her. Finally lunch rolled around and like the mob of zombies they were the students of Bustier’s class walked mindlessly to the cafeteria that is until one of them spotted a familiar looking girl though her hair was no longer in pigtails and her clothing had changed it was undoubtedly her! The class rushed forward with a surge catching the attention of the whole school who watched the exchange curiously. Apologies were hurled out questions were yelled and poor Marinette looked overwhelmed silence only came when Sabine stepped forward with a warning look though there was an odd glint of pity and sadness in her eyes. Finally it was Alya who broke the silence.

“Marinette! We are SO sorry, please can you find it in your heart to forgive us?” The Ladybloger was holding back tears and no one had heard her voice that shaky before. After a long pause Marinette spoke.

“U-Umm... Hey listen I dont... Really know what your apologizing for... And uh I dont really know who you are but... Umm sure of course I forgive you! You seem very nice?”

The crowd was stunned. Marinette had no idea who ALYA was? Her best friend? The girl she’d fought with last? Sensing the tension in the room Tom gently guided Marinette away shooting Sabine an odd look. Both parents had hoped that seeing her old school would jolt Marinette’s memory but it seemed that even her best friends face wasn’t enough to bring back what had been lost. As Tom helped Marinette climb the stairs with her cast. Sabine took a deep breath and proceeded to explain what she could. That Marinette had lost... Some memories, specifically relating to people who had been around during her accident... She didn’t remember any of them and no one not even the doctors or Tikki herself could change that. As Sabine apologized for what must surely be a shock she excused herself to follow her daughter and husband to the principles office so they could discuss the situation.

For the students of the akuma class life felt like it had been turned sideways. Lila who had been consumed by guilt had begun to hyperventilate. Alya felt slapped and raw her best friend had no idea who she was and the last thing she had done before Marinette forgot all about her was denounce their friendship. For Kim and Nino their were tears and disbelief the girl that they had known sense childhood had no idea who they were and regarded them like any stranger on the side of the road. For Chloe there was the oddest feeling of heartbreak, now she would never know if Marinette could truly forgive her, because the Marinette to whom she’d been so cruel was all but gone. But it was perhaps Adrien who was hit the hardest, Adrien who had learned that Marinette liked him the day of the accident, Adrien who had watched her fall, who had not rushed to check on her, Adrien who had felt torn by guilt confused about his feelings, Adrien who felt like the world had lost the sun with Marinette gone, Adrien who had wanted Marinette to come back so he could see she was okay and ask her on the date she deserved, and now Adrien who meant nothing to her because she had no idea who he was.

As for the rest of the students of Dupont? Well many of them were overjoyed to know Marinette remembered them at least but they felt pity for the akuma class but many others wondered what the future held. Would Marinette’s old friends try and rekindle their friendships? Would they bring photos and music and videos to try and bring back the girls memories? Or would new friends take the place of the old and forgotten? Would Adrien continue down his path of rebellion fighting for a place in Marinette’s heart once more, or would he return to being a docile lamb under his fathers thumb his heart and mind numb due to the shock of it all. Would Lila Rossi return to her old ways? Would she crack under the feelings of guilt and shame? Or would she go mad and attack Marinette. How many people would forever flinch and rush to offer Marinette help whenever she so much as when near a flight of stairs? Would it be possible to anyone to reclaim Marinette’s lost memories or would new ones need to be made? No one knew. But they did know for certain that things would be different from now on.

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[jasontoddiefor]

I don't know who to share my thoughts with so now you get them: I think that more anakin time travel fics should explore vaders whole medical trauma body horror thing. Dude is on life support for half of his life and suddenly he has hair again. The medic clones should figure out that somethings up pretty quickly. Actually, imagine having to deal with hair after 23 years of being bald. He probably isn't used to eating anymore. There's so much to think about.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR THOUGHTS THEY ARE WONDERFUL. Yes, yes, yes, there is so much horror to consider. TW for Vader’s lack of health and the psychological effects it has

Say, Anakin wakes up again in the middle of the Clone Wars, before Ahsoka leaves and everything goes to hell. One moment, he’s dying in his son’s arms, the next he’s in the middle of a battlefield. Completely disorientated. The campaign is already half won and it’s just clean up. And Anakin, like any man with too much trauma, has a panic attack and hyperventilate. He knocks away a dozen clones in his panic, aimlessly (broken bones, but thankfully no dead), then he faints

Let’s start with the breathing. Vader hasn’t breathed by himself really for decades. Only in emergencies when his suit failed or he turned it off himself did he actually have to do it and I bet that during those times he had to be conscious of every breath. This young, healthy body, remembers how to breathe automatically still. Anakin’s mind however? I could see him freaking out and being unable to handle it. When they bring him to the medbay, they get him hooked on a breathing machine because Anakin can’t function when he has to focus on that. Also, his voice must sound strange in his own ears. He can sing now, he doesn’t have to pause for his own breaths. His intonation must be all over the place.

Talking healthy body: His clone-wars mech arm was canonically his best artificial limb. He’s shorter than he is as Vader. He still has all most of his limbs. He tries to take his first steps and falls to the ground because he hasn’t walked like this in over twenty years. He feels like a newborn, stumbling around. Probably also underestimates how strong his legs and remaining arm is. Vader could like. Punch through steel. You know Obi-Wan trying to kick Grievous? That’s him now. Constantly. He also weighs a lot less now. He’s free of that 100 pound armor! Once he starts training again, his speed and flexibility probably improve immensely because that’s not holding him back anymore. On the other hand, he probably does put on more armor than before because he was used to treating his body as expansible. It’s not anymore.

Also talking healthy body, his mind is probably really out of place. Like, he has the brain of an early-20-something, but the mind of a traumatized adult. His brain hasn’t even finished developing it and what I’m saying is: He probably feels like he’s high on spice, all happy and carefree because his mind is used to function on much lower levels.

Regular movements don’t hurt him! His pain tolerance is through the roof and it’s honestly shocking. He could be bleeding out and probably wouldn't register it for a while. He’s supposed to do regular check-ups now to ensure he isn’t actually dying and just not aware of it because it’s only minor pain.

In general, Anakin probably feels like his body is heaven and curse at the same time. Because on one hand, it’s such a relief, on the other, he probably feels dysphoric because Vader did see himself as a weapon. A tool. A one-man army. And now he suddenly has to take care of himself and his body just. Messes with him?

Moving on to habits! First of all: He can touch people again. I like to HC that Anakin was a very tactile person. This is dialed up to 11 now. He’s constantly running his flesh fingers over something. If there’s somebody he cares about near him, guess what, you’re getting hugged now. He doesn’t even notice he’s reaching out until Ahsoka is like “Master, please, can you let go of me I’m trying to eat”. He can feel warmth and cold, rough and smooth surfaces. Probably, when also not in armor, he might indulge in super soft clothes. the stuff that's feather-light on your skin.

Food: That’s difficult as well. Vader didn’t eat and Anakin now probably develops an eating disorder where he either overgorges until he gets sick and vomits or forgets to eat for days at a time until his blood sugar is so low he faints.

Sleeping: Obi-Wan has never seen Anakin meditate this much. Or so well. Or drop into so many healing trances so he can avoid sleeping. Anakin hasn’t properly slept in ages. He can’t fall asleep, he doesn’t know how to and he's terrified when he does. He has nightmares- no, night terrors really frequently. When he goes under, he barely gets any REM sleep.

Hair: Probably also one of those “100% or 0%” actions. Either he actually does take care of it, take care of it well too, or he just forgets and it's a rats’ nest until Ahsoka, a clone, Padmé or Obi-Wan - whoever is in reach really, sits him down and brushes and idk braids it. He’s probably half annoyed by its length and half going “I’m never cutting this again” so guess everybody is getting proficient in braiding now

So bottom line is, if Anakin actually did time travel, he probably wouldn’t be able to hide it because simply breathing on his own already unsettles him and that’s not even accounting for all of Vader’s health issues.

[lynnsfics]

Worries and Wounds

Pairing: Sokka x Reader

Request: “14 from list 3, reader x sokka? THANK YOU!” Prompt: "It’s just a minor scratch… that happens to be bleeding… profusely."

CW: Descriptions of blood Word Count: Approx. 1.3k words

~~~

You winced at the burn on your arm. It was already blistering, which was a good sign, right? You would usually see if Katara could heal it. but she was still busy healing the others. Sokka had gotten a particularly deep cut which needed attention right away. You figured your burn could wait.

When you finally made camp you still didn’t go to Katara. At that point the burn had partially healed itself, and you didn’t want to be a bother. Besides, you had lectured Sokka on the importance of being more careful after his cut was healed, so going to Katara now would be hypocritical. -

Instead, you decided to let the wound heal naturally. It seemed like the best idea at the time. Now, as you trekked through the woods to find a new training spot you knew it hadn’t been the best decision. 

Every step you took shot a wave of pain through your side. It didn’t help that Sokka decided to go with you. It was difficult enough to hide the wound, but hiding the pain was another issue entirely. Although you didn’t mind the company he provided on the trip, it probably would have been best if you went alone. 

“Are you alright?” Sokka seemed worried when you stopped for what felt like the hundredth time. It wasn’t like you to need to rest so much, and he couldn’t help but feel that something was off.

“Oh, I’m fine,” you lied. “I just want to stop and take in the sights.” 

He didn’t believe you, but nodded anyways. “Well we should probably stop sight-seeing and find a good training spot.”

You agreed and continued walking, still doing your best to avoid showing how much pain you were actually in. It wasn’t until you began to grow dizzy that you finally admitted something was wrong. 

“So funny story,” you said as you collapsed next to a tree, “I’m not actually fine.” 

He looked back at you, eyes full of concern. “What’s wrong? Did you get hurt?”

You could only manage to nod weakly, The lightheadedness made it hard to focus on anything, let alone forming a coherent sentence. Placing your hand on your side, still trying to hide the burn, you inhaled sharply. Something sticky coated your hand and you pulled it away quickly. Once you removed it you saw red blood thickly covering your hand. Uh oh.

Sokka rushed over to you, trying to mask his look of panic. “What happened?”

Despite wanting to hide it you showed him the wound. “No big deal,” you answered. “It’s just a minor scratch… that happens to be bleeding… profusely.”

 “We need to get you back to camp, right now,” he insisted. There wasn’t any way you could debate with him. You were feeling dizzier by the minute. He helped you up and you wrapped an arm around his shoulders for stability. 

Your train of thought was drifting from one thing to another as you made your way back to camp. Sokka’s thoughts on the other hand, were concentrated wholly on you. He wasn’t sure what had happened, all he knew was that he couldn’t let anything happen to you. 

Maybe it was due to the blood loss but as you turned to look at him, you couldn’t help but say what you were thinking out loud. “You’re cute when you’re worried,” you mumbled.

He shook his head. “We really need to get back to camp, come on.” To be honest, he tried not to be flustered by your words. After all, it was probably just from your dizziness, it wasn’t as if you actually meant it, right?

The two of you drew close to the camp, and Sokka began to breathe a sigh of relief. You’d made it in time. He rushed you over to Katara’s tent, where she was organizing some supplies. 

“Katara,” Sokka called out, trying to get her attention. 

She turned and gasped in shock. “What happened?”

“I’m not sure,” Sokka confessed. “We were walking and she suddenly collapsed. She’s bleeding badly.” 

Katara’s eyes settled on the wound and she took a deep breath. “I’ll do the best I can.”

As she led you back to the tent, Sokka tried to think of how you could have possibly gotten hurt. It couldn’t have been on the trip, he decided. There was nothing that could have happened then. His memory took him back to your last encounter with Fire Nation troops and he recalled you being hit with a flame. 

He had assumed it wasn’t anything serious, since you hadn’t gone to Katara for help. Apparently he was mistaken. Once Katara healed you, he’d have to find out what really happened. “If Katara can heal her,” he thought. He tried to shake the thought out of his mind, he had to stay positive. Thinking about you being hurt cut him deeply, and he knew he had to push those thoughts down to be of any use. 

He sat down near the tent, waiting for any updates, or any news of things he could do to help. After what seemed like an eternity he finally heard Katara come outside and looked over nervously. Now he wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear the news, instead trying to calm his nerves. 

“She’s alright,” Katara said, breaking the uneasy silence. “You can visit her if you want, but please be careful. It was a close call.” 

The affirmation that you were fine was all Sokka needed to rush into the tent. When he saw you sitting up in the small cot a wave of relief washed over him. “I’m so glad you’re alright,” he said softly.

You smiled, “Thank you for getting me back here in time. If you hadn’t been there…,” you trailed off, not wanting to think of what may have happened. 

“Of course,” he answered gently, sitting down next to you, “I’ll always be there when you need me. But what were you thinking? You should have told someone you were hurt!”

“After the fight you were injured and Katara was busy. I didn’t think it was a big deal,” you said honestly. “Besides, I didn’t want to worry anyone.”

“Well I was worried,” Sokka said. “Katara told me how bad it was.” His voice grew quiet and you could tell he was trying to hold back his emotions. “I almost lost you.”

Your heart ached at his words. “It’s alright, I’m still here. I know I should have said something but,” you sighed, “I knew you were hurt badly and didn’t want anything to happen to you because of me.” 

He gently took your hand in his and intertwined your fingers. “Promise me you won’t do that again,” he whispered. “I’ve lost so many people I’ve loved, I can’t lose you too.”

Your eyes met his and you gasped softly. “What did you just say?”

He blushed slightly but continued, “Well I guess there’s no point in hiding it now. I love you, and I have for the longest time.”

“I love you too,” you whispered. Before you could overthink it you leaned in and brushed your lips against his. He kissed back gently, careful not to mess up your bandages. When you finally broke apart you smiled. 

“I promise I’ll be more careful from now on.” Suddenly a memory resurfaced. “Wait did I really say ‘you’re cute when you’re worried’?”

He smiled, planting a soft kiss to the top of your head. “You did,” he laughed. “But don’t worry, I think you’re cute too.” 

~~~

A:TLA Taglistt: @sorrythatspussynal

@samsmultifandomblogs

@coldlilheart

Requested By: @missmorosis

I wrote this while reviewing for my upcoming Mock Trial competition, so I'm sorry if there's some small grammatical errors! Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist and as always likes and reblogs are appreciated! Love you all! <3

[poundstonaira]

Fuegoleon x Reader - The Future and Beyond

i wrote this back in 2019 so expect this to be cringe. dont say i didnt warn you.

S/N- Squad Name L/N- Last Name F/N- First Name E/C- Eye Color word count: 1700+

*Y/N’s P.O.V*

This is the third time today. This is the third time I’m at the toilet, throwing up all my food. 

Why?

Was it food poisoning? Did I drink alcohol? What it alcohol poisoning? I couldn’t because I don’t drink alcohol at all, as the head of House (L/N) and the Wife of Fuegoleon Vermillion, I can’t let myself loose. I’ve never tasted it. Ever.

After I finish throwing up, the taste of acid and the feeling of lumpy food lingers in my mouth. I brush my teeth for the fourth time today. When I finish, I feel like the bathroom is spinning.

Yeah… something is wrong with me, I’ll have to ask Mimosa or someone with healing magic  when I have time.

-Timeskip

Luckily, I was able to spot Mimosa here in the hallways of the base, I wonder what she's doing here today.

“Hello, Mimosa. How are you today?” I give her my usual nonchalant, calm face.

She flashes me her usual innocent smile. “I’m fine, and you?”

Okay, this is the time to tell her how your feeling...this might be your only chance.

“So, Mimosa, I haven’t been feeling well recently, “ I start, as she looks at me with curiosity as I’m starting to feel dizzy again, “I keep on throwing up...I feel very dizzy, I’m always getting sleepy, my breasts are feeling more tender and bigg-”

“Your breasts were getting bigger? Weren’t they always big?” 

THIS AIRHEADED LITTLE DOOFUS! YOU CAN’T SAY STUFF LIKE THAT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE HALLWAYS! AND HAS SHE SEEN HERSELF? SHE HAS MELLONS ON HER CHEST.

UGH. 

From her comment about my chest, I feel a tick-mark summoning from my temple, hoping that I can control myself from these mood swings I’ve been getting, I try not to raise my voice so that I don’t get a headache.

“Shh! You know the Crimson Lions are filled with the majority of men! You don’t know if there are perverted men here, Mimosa!” I quickly whisper to her so that no one heard that.

“Ohh! Sorry, I was just pointing that out.” 

Yeah. In the middle of the hallways. That definitely makes sense.

“Anyways, may you please come to my room? I need you to see what’s wrong with me private.” I sigh.

“Sure. I’m always here to help!” She flashes me her normal smile before walking we both walk into my shared bedroom.

Timeskip

We are currently at my desk in my bedroom so that Mimosa can see what the issue is. All I hope is that Fuegoleon comes in here and see her checking on my breast to which she is now squeezing. I’m not even sure what is more painful right now, this headache which is now killing me or Mimosa’s hands squeezing the living shit out of my breasts.

Why can’t she just a spell? Is this what her family taught her? This is brutal as shit! I feel like my breasts are getting ripped apart!

Mimosa uses one of her support spells to see if I have any sickness. I keep looking up at her facial expression to see if there is anything wrong or strange. After a few minutes, I see her facial expression change from focussed to shocked.

“Mrs. Y/N, have you had...sex recently?” She whispered as she looked to the door to see if anyone is coming in and then at me again.

Did I have sex recently? Last time I had sex with Fuego was...maybe four weeks ago? Don’t remember to be honest. 

Wait.

Ohhh SHIITITITTITI!

“Umm...about three weeks ago. Why?” I tilt my head nervously.

She closes her grimoire as she stands up and sighs happily.

“Congratulations.” She replied with a graceful smile on her face.

“You’re going to become a mother.” 

-Another timeskip!

“You’re going to become a mother.” “You’re going to become a mother.” “You’re going to become a mother.”

That same sentence that Mimosa said before finally walking off to do her errands really...shock me but at the same time I’m...terrified. I don’t know anything about being a parent, especially since being royalty, everything matters and once the families find out, they are going to be looking at me. Yes. Me. The oldest sibling of house (L/N) and the Captain of (S/N). So here I am, at 8:30 at night, sitting on the edge of my shared bed, literally shaking, holding my head so I can prevent myself from losing my mind even more, and most importantly, trying to figure out how the hell am I going to tell Fuegoleon.

I wonder what I’m going to do. I’m paranoid because how I am I going to run my squad? I know I have siblings who are very responsible and that take my place but, how would that affect everyone? Is everyone going to be ashamed of me? Am I going to punished by mother and father? Will...Fuegoleon be mad at me? Will he divorce me? Will everyone lose my trust? Will everyone...abandon me?

All of this is really stressful. I’ve never taken care of a child before. I don’t know what I’m going to do, and I’m not sure if my servants can help me. 

But didn’t Fuegoleon want a child? Didn’t he say that it would be good to start a family for the future and beyond? This is too much for me...

To get all of this out of my mind, I decided to take a nap, hoping that I can wake up from this nightmare of anxiety.

Another timeskip!

“Y/N…” I hear a familiar voice call out to me.

Is that Fuegy?

“Hmm?”

“Wake up, it’s Fuegoleon.”

No. Not now. Please. He is the last person I want to see, God please don’t do this to me.

“Who?” I managed to groan.

“It’s Fuegoleon, my love. Remember me? I’m your husband.” He chuckles as he runs his fingers through my silky, smooth, (H/C) hair.

Kill me.

“Ohh…” I yawn, sitting myself up.

“Are you okay? You didn’t show up at (S/N) headquarters, did something happen?” He asks me as crawls into bed, and reading his book. At that, I sigh.

This is going to be hard. I’m not really good at explaining things because I really don’t talk a lot; Especially in a new situation like this, I haven’t really explained any of my issues to anyone because of how quiet I am and, usually the problems I have are minor.  But, I’m pregnant this time, and I have to remember, this is my husband, this is the love of my life, my best friend. I can tell him anything...right?

“So...Fuego?” I heaved a sigh.

“Yes, my love?” He focuses on his book, flipping the page.

“Do you remember when I said that I haven’t been feeling well for the past couple of weeks?” I managed to breathe out.

“Mmhmmm.” He hums, still focusing on his book.

“Well...”I breath out nervously.

I have never been so nervously in my life. Why am I so scared to tell him that I’m pregnant? Shouldn’t I be an optimist about this?

“I…” I start again, it seems like he sees the fear in my eyes and the trouble in my voice.

“What’s wrong, my love? Did something happen?” I hear the concern in his voice he stops from reading his book and turns to put his hand on my shoulder.

“I...met up with Mimosa today to see what’s wrong with me...she t-told me...I’m...pregnant…” I manage to breathe out on the last word.

I did it. I did it. I did it. Holy shit I’m scared. Please don’t be mad at me Fuegy!!!! 

He silently stares at me for a moment in shock. His beautiful plum eyes staring into my soft E/C eyes.

“Thank goodness!” He pulls me into a loving hug, literally giving me no space to breathe because of the space between my face and his muscular chest.

“Wait..you’re not angry!?” I manage to ask in his chest.

“Why would I be? It was me who said that we should have children and...I kind of took advantage of you that night by accident, I honestly didn’t regret at all actually, “He chuckles as bit, “I was hoping for the twenty-three years that I’ve known you, I could have children with you, spend my life with you, come to you when something is wrong, make love with you, and have a family with you. I love you that much, Y/N.” He sniffles as he puts his head on my head.

Honestly…I’m at a loss for words.

From the way he has been acting, I thought he was going to be mad at me, he has been acting so hostile. Ever since we got married, he would come back from his mission, he’d look so exhausted, and he wouldn’t speak to me, I would ask him how his day was, it would be the usual: “Fine, just tired.” But now, since he divulged his feelings since he found out I’m pregnant, I have found out that he really cared for the whole time, he just didn’t know how to say it.

I nudge him, getting him to release me from his tightass hug. I jump on to him as I look at his vibrant, plum eyes one more time before smashing my lips onto his, his callous hands move down my back as mine just stay at both sides of his head as we still give in to the passionate kiss, our tongues still fighting for dominance.

Maybe sometimes I shouldn’t keep things to myself, maybe I should be more confident about the future and beyond.

We pull apart with a string of saliva as we pant for our breaths back.

“I love you, Y/N.” Fuegoleon says he pulls me in for another hug.

“I love you too, Fuegoleon, and from now on, I’m going to be more confident for the future and beyond.

[sk-lumen]

Need serious advice about setting boundaries or communicating when dealing with a person who:

Is a parent

Has unhealthy communication methods -- it takes very little for them to start full-blown screaming, shouting out all your 'negative' things/mistakes/past, can continue to scream-criticise you even after you've gone silent, for WHOLE MINUTES even if you've shut up, will not accept anything that even hints at them making a mistake

You can't trust since childhood coz u made the mistake of confiding in them with a serious issue as a young teen --- mental related --- and they belittled and invalidated you, and since then pretended you never confided in them and have NO IDEA how you've been coping without them or ANYone else for years... Yeah thanks, parent, what u said back then made me think I was the one at fault and so I stopped trusting even friends coz yeah, when ur own parent doesn't give a damn, why would anyone else?

Is a master at silent treatments without explaining what EXACTLY they're punishing you for, then when theyre in the mood, will start talking to you as if they hadn't ignored you for days. Lol I'd rather be water boarded I think. Especially for all the damage this caused when I was a child

Won't openly talk about what they want, yet expects ALL FHE TIME others (in the family) to know what they want, then will complain/scream/angry for AGES about how no one cares, no one gives a damn... And when someone asks them what they want, they either say: nothing, or "you should know! Can't u see?"

Upon asking them to please talk normally, will blow a fuse, and lose it --- happened multiple times today

Literally will use me as a scape goat to unleash their frustrations upon. Even when I leave the room, I can hear them b*tch about how much of a failure I am etc. The trigger being anything that bothers them, from a phone call to something other siblings did, bla bla. I limit my time with them... But it's like, it feels impossible to have them treat me normally, without ridiculing or criticising me. I'm already a very low self esteem person... This doesn't help AT ALL

In short, refuse to tell/ask/discuss important stuff, and getting mad randomly that no one read their mind, bcoz everyone's 'old enough to have enough sense' to know what they 'should' do... Eg will not pikc up the phone when we call them from the store to ask when what the needed isn't available, so what other alternative can we get... And then when we get home, will instead blame us for being fussy and not getting the alternative, completelt skirting around the issue they didn't deign to pick up the phone... I mean, I don't get it. In the past I HAVE in fact asked them to just openly tell me what they want/expect from me to make them happy... Got passive aggressive answers like "don't you know? Are you dumb?" Bla bla

Passive aggressive to the max when they've lost it

Expect me to drop anything I'm doing and immediately cater to them, and expect me to help them in their hobbies (while simultaneously, as I learned many years ago to much heartache, not being interested or even pretending to be interested in my hobbies. The disinterest taught me very quickly how much what I wanted meant, leading to years of self-invalidation. Luckily I've learned it really is them, not me. My hobbies are valid)

Will not talk about why they're feeling angry, what causes it. Instead will blame me, who's like the golden scapegoat in our amazing family, by saying :YOU made me negative. They've said it many times now... It hurts a lot, when I'm also struggling with my own issues which I ofc can't confide in them about :)

Today I manned up -- the outburst of hatred happened again! Over a simple thing. It was NIGHTMARE and made me angry/sad/frustrated/triggered---, and so I told them to stop talking like that... Boy was that the wrong thing to say... I don't think I can accurately tell u what happened afterwards...

Usually children learn communication skills from the parents... I at least learned to recognize the unhealthy ones, and what NOT to communicate like lol. Like, other parent is even worse, believe it or not. But that's another complex situation

I'm not bashing on the parent. Lord knows I even have that much of a right huh? I hate myself eveb more when they invalidate me if I try to show how MUCH THEY HURT me after a 'communication session'. As in, heaven forbid me if I BE SILENT afterwards and DON'T wanna listen to their retardation. Nope. Even then they provoke me, rage at me, you know how sometimes enraged people hiss vitriol thru gritted teeth? Yeah, that's what they did today after I stayed silent and tried to ignore them an hour later after the 'session' when they wabted something. It's like they don't even need me to say a word and will carry on and on for minutes 🤢

I feel alone, helpless and at a loss what to do

I want to move out. Due to severe mental issues I can't even move out rn coz it scares me even more. But this has to stop. Things are only okay if I'm absolutely passive, say yes to whatever they want, kill my wants and needs, and become a perfect robot bred to cater to them (parent)

I hope you can help me out, dear

Hi darling,

It sounds like you’re in a considerably toxic environment. I'm sorry you're going through this. Know that this is not normal, nor is it how a parent/child relationship should be. In case there's any doubt, let me start by saying you deserve to be supported, respected, listened to, to have your needs met. You deserve to live in an environment that offers you all of these things.

With that being said, from the many scenarios you’ve mentioned you’ve already tried reasoning and setting boundaries, to no avail. There is only so much you can do on your own, if the other person in the equation is not meeting halfway or at all. After all, a healthy conversation involves two people, not just one.

Here's my advice, in this order:

Calmly and maturely asking the respective parent to have a serious discussion with you and to listen to what you have to say. Share how their actions and behaviour is making you feel, let them know you care, and make sure to mention several solutions for the issue as well. If this doesn’t work…

Bring up the subject of needing help from outside, such as the assistance of a specialist/therapist. Family counselling can shed a lot of light on toxic behaviours that are ingrained from childhood (both in their case and yours), on fears your parent may have, stress from their work, whatever is causing their outbursts and anger - because there is always a reason. Behind anger is sadness, and behind sadness is some need not being met, or an underlying fear, trauma, etc. This is not a justification for their behaviour, they are responsible for it; this is simply the fact of how energy dynamics work. People bottle up their frustrations, fears, etc, and let them out on those closest to them, to whom they feel superior. It’s not fair, and it’s not healthy, but it is frequently how this pattern works. If this solution doesn’t work either…

Then unfortunately, all you can do is focus on yourself. If they refuse to meet you anywhere along the road, you have to pack up your things and go your own way. Literally or metaphorically. They may be your parent and you may love them even in spite of their behaviour, but you cannot hold yourself responsible for anything they say or do; that is on them. In those cases, you have to prioritize your own mental health and wellbeing, and focus on moving out. If your (home) environment is toxic, you have to focus on first changing it. That’s vital. Only afterwards can you start healing, refinding yourself, reclaiming your self-esteem and confidence, your sense of worth. As long as you stay stuck in a toxic environment, you cannot really heal; if there is abuse of any kind (physical, mental, emotional), the causes are still there, leading to re-traumatizing.

If for whatever reason moving out is not (yet) an option, I would emphasize seeking some sort of counselling for yourself, if nothing else. You need an anchor, some sort of support that will help you along your path until you do get out.

Now, I don’t know how old you are. I am going to assume you are over 18 and of age, so only mind my advice if that is the case. (As disclaimer, I don't provide advice to minors as it's not the scope of my blog nor am I specialized/focused on that area.)

I understand moving out seems scary because it is unknown, but with that line of thought you may wait another 10 years in the same situation. Wouldn’t you wake up 10 years later already having done the hard work on moving out, finding your independence, claiming your sense of individuality and moving on from this sort of environment, this phase in your life?

Sooner is better than later, but do so with mindfulness and care over your mental health, of course. I know it’s scary. But being an adult requires some difficult decisions at times, and setting boundaries begins with choosing your wellbeing and doing what needs to be done, even if it is something uncomfortable short-term, but highly rewarding and beneficial long-term.

Hope this helps... and wishing you much luck, clarity, gentle guidance and comfort.✨

PS: Lately I've been receiving longer and longer letters in my inbox. As solution, I was thinking of having longer asks/letters redirected to my blog where there isn't any length limit, and readers can more comfortably browse both my tumblr and blog - and those requesting advice can share and receive a more in-depth response.

-Lumen