#(she has a hard time acknowledging that she is self conscious about that scar in particular and why)

[lornteeleaf]

The amount of time i spent thinking about all of my chars but exspecially my Comms scars and the way they use their clothes to deal with them ...

Thats not very neurotypical/ mentally well behaviour tbh

i love the 'commander with jewelry and intricate armor and a sense of fashion' thing but the fact that its partly canon along with having lots of scars. i know its just me being super duper autistic about the comm's dialogue but

[d-romanov]

Do you do like self harm reader? Maybe wandanat are together and have adopted or just taken in a 16 year old 🤷‍♀️ idk am in one of those moods but I get if it makes you uncomfortable or triggers you or something!

Love your writing btw!

even when we're goin' under.

[ 1.2k words ]

[ natasha x teen!reader ]

summary: it's a bad habit, but it helped at first and now you can't stop. natasha offers comfort and understanding.

notes: hi! ty so much for the prompt 🫶 sorry i took so long to write it. this fic leans more towards vent fic and i definitely won't write things like this often. i switched it up a bit cause that's just how i wrote it. so, sorry no wandanat this time

TW!!: semi-graphic descriptions and discussion of self harm, past abuse (hydra/the red room it's vague)

this fic is heavy!! please don't read if you're triggered by self harm. stay safe and take care of yourselves ♥️

It started with an itch.

A small biting at the back of your neck, the sides of your arms, the inner sides of your thighs.

It wasn't a real itch, that you knew, but you were compelled to scratch anyways.

It always happened after a long day. The stress and overload of your senses would hit at the end of the day, and you felt like ripping your skin off.

The biting never went away. No matter how hard you scratched, your dull nails never did enough. A nervous habit of biting your nails left them too short to do any real damage to your skin, even when the itch felt bone deep.

There were other times it would start up again. After a particularly clear nightmare, a flashback to a kill you had no conscious part in. The guilt sunk your heart to your feet and filled your veins with poison. Burning and itching and begging to be released, begging for relief.

You found your relief, of all places, while cooking. A misguided blade chopping vegetables had nicked your hand, and in the bite of pain and rush of blood your skin stopped burning. You hadn't thought about it too hard in the moment, but when the itch returned later you finally had a way to get it out.

--

It went on for a few weeks. Far more than you intended.

It was a temporary solution, a quick fix. A messy fix that layered you skin with more scars than had already been there, but they felt better.

It was easier to reconcile to new marks on your flesh, because these came from you. Not a beating or a fight or experiment of any kind.

No. These new, thin, horizontal lines along your shoulders were purely your creation.

It was stupid. A terrible habit, bordering addiction because you just couldn't stop. Every time, that same burning itch came back, practically with a vengeance. A burning, blistering want to be released, for the guilt to be acknowledged, for some self punishment?

You no longer understood why it happened, just that it did and cutting yourself dulled the feeling and cleared your head.

--

You tried to hide it, for a while, but you were caught out eventually.

You didn't know what had changed, what part of you has suddenly raised alarm in Natasha's eye, but she was somehow even more perceptive than she usually was.

You'd always been close with the redhead, since the day you entered the tower. She got you through the hardest parts of adjusting, the loneliness of a widow adjusting to a semi-normal life. She cared for you like her own child.

So really, she'd be the first to notice your withdrawing. The baggier shirts with longer sleeves, the subtle hunch, the flinch when something grazed your shoulders. Of course she knew something was wrong.

--

It comes to a head one day. You've locked yourself in the bathroom after a nasty night terror left you panicking for the better part of an hour. Hastily cleaning and covering the new cuts on your arm. The sting of antiseptic grounds you and the smell of it drowns out the smell of iron.

You reach for your discarded hoodie when you hear a knock at your bedroom door. Your heart rate picks up.

The only person who would be at your door this early in the morning would be Natasha. The only person in the tower who's so in tune with your feelings well-being that she has to know what you've been doing almost daily for nearly 3 weeks.

"y/n? Honey, I need to talk to you."

A few more tries and your bedroom door opens. You quickly throw on your hoodie but you can't bring yourself to even unlock the bathroom door. Natasha is just outside. You hold your breath.

"y/n?"

"Yeah?" You ignore the croak in your voice.

"Can you open the door?" She asks softly.

You don't want to, but you're so tired of hurting. You shakily unlock the door and open it, not meeting her eyes. Unconsciously, you tug your hoodie sleeves over your hands.

Natasha doesn't say another word. She barely moves, she just breathes softly and keeps her body relaxed. You feel like crying.

You blink and traitorous tears escape your eyes. Natasha brings her hands up slowly and pulls you in. The rough feel of fabric pulls against the fresh cuts on your shoulder and you flinch as she pulls you in.

"Oh, детка."

Your breath hitches and you fall into her arms. She squeezes you tight to her chest while your body is wracked by silent sobs.

"I-, I'm sorry," You can barely get the words out, but you need her to know. You need her to know you wanted to stop and you couldn't because even when you felt better you still felt awful and it never helped. "I tried to stop. I-I wanted to-"

"I know, малыш, I know." She sits the two of you on the bed behind her, stroking your hair and never once letting go.

You just sit for a while. Natasha's solid form and gentle words of encouragement help to calm you down. Enough to pull back, wipe the snot and tears from your face and prepare yourself for her inevitable questions.

"Can I see?"

Whatever you were expecting, it wasn't that. You hesitantly pull off your hoodie, and Natasha reaches out to help when the fabric catches uncomfortably on still-drying blood.

You feel exposed while Natasha moves to your bathroom. She comes back out with your first aid kit but you still refuse to meet her eyes.

You know what she sees. Angry lines of red, criss-crossing over old and new scars. In the back of your mind you hear a voice like Madame call you weak minded.

Broken.

With a tender hand, Natasha treats your self-inflicted wounds, cleans them softly and kisses each new bandage. She presses one final kiss, feather-light on your forehead. You let your tired body fall into her again.

"I know it feels good, in the moment," Her hands comb through your hair again, smoothing and braiding it mindlessly. "It doesn't really last though, does it?"

you shake your head, butting her chin lightly in the process.

"I can't ask you to stop, I know it doesn't work that way," You feel her take a deep breath and you copy the motion. "But will you tell me? The next time you feel the need?"

You shrug, because you truly don't know. "I'll try." It's as much a promise to her as it is to yourself.

It's really the best you can do, in the moment, and Natasha gladly accepts the answer.

Later, when you aren't so emotionally and physically drained, Natasha will sit you down again. She'll talk you into therapy, or at least to trying it out. She'll help you process your guilt, your grief, all with a steady hand holding your wrist. A promise not to let go.

But for now, Natasha pulls you under messy covers and holds you close, humming an old Russian lullaby as you settle against her.

As you drift off, you hear one more promise.

"I'm always here for you, y/n. I'm not going anywhere."

[linnoya-writes]

ZUTARA - the Trials and Tribulations that come with finding “The One”

I don’t think it was a coincidence that the two most mature kids in ATLA had various potential “suitors” throughout the show—people they were officially “together” with, people they went on dates with, people they connected with, and people they fell smitten over-- and yet, those feelings would always fall short of that “once-in-a-lifetime” romantic, magical element.

It really made me believe that ATLA was setting up a wonderful example to young viewers about the real-life hardship of finding “true love,” demonstrating that sometimes... it takes a lot of trial and error and experience to eventually get to that person who’s deemed The One.

Zuko and Katara were two characters who had to mature to an outstanding degree in a time of war, and we notice them trying to make connections with people all around them.  We also notice how, in spite of the many “potential suitors” they have in their own individual story arcs, the two of them always seemed to “bump into each other” along the way, noticing each other’s character development every single time.

In the show, they build connections with people, but never seem to find someone who carries all that they need for a partner.  I could also say that they never find someone who “sees” them in their fullest, complex selves... until it’s the two of them!

Let’s review the suitors for Katara:

1) Haru-- While fans like to speculate that Katara may have had a “thing” for Haru, I personally think she saw him as someone she connected with easily because of his bending ability… in the same way she immediately connected with Aang the moment she found out Aang was a bender.  Katara didn’t grow up around other benders, and so it would make sense that she would cherish the idea of bonding with other benders.  Haru and Katara had their connection with bending, but it’s pretty clear that Haru’s shy nature and his sensitive personality wasn’t something Katara was looking for in a love interest.  

2) Jet-- We do know that Katara falls very smitten with Jet, and here we get to see the kind of person she tends to cling to:  someone who’s a strong capable leader, courageous, tall, athletic, someone who makes her feel like she can use her talents and brains, and who supports fighting for justice.  Of course, Jet also carries his sense of justice too far with his cruelty and malice, which Katara immediately says she will not support in a partner.

3) Aang-- Yes, we see Katara having a long-term connection with Aang in the show, and this relationship turns from a motherly/child relationship gradually into something that could become a romantic partnership.  We also know from the beginning that Aang has deep feelings for Katara, and he tries really hard to get her to see him as a potential boyfriend.  

However, there are various “hints” throughout the show that Katara wasn’t completely “taken” with the idea of being with Aang (ie. her behavior in the episode “The Ember Island Players”) and based on what we know about the two characters… there would be problems with their relationship down the road:  Katara is a proud meat-eating Watertribe girl and the last Waterbender of the SWT determined to bring back her culture/heritage after the War.  Being with Aang--  a proud vegetarian who can’t really handle Watertribe food and customs—might make her have to decide if she is willing to give up part of her heritage for her partner.  She would also have to give up her own individual goals in the post-war in order to be at Aang’s side, as his voice of reason.  There are many instances in the show where Katara had to be the mature one and set aside her own emotional needs in order to tend to Aang’s needs, and this imbalance would eventually make her realize how she needs a partner who can see her as a complex human being, rather than just a “coddler”… a partner who can be the pillar that she can lean on whenever she needs to let out her emotions and rage.

Now, let’s look at all of Zuko’s suitors:

1) Mai-- With Zuko, we learn he had a childhood crush on a girl, and that crush is returned, but after 3 years being banished… there’s no real evidence that either of them “ached” for the other during that time and distance apart.  Zuko and Mai did have their moments together when he returned to the Fire Nation, and while Mai does care about him, the relationship was emotionally lacking, and it’s clear that Zuko cannot be with Mai in his fullest, most open self.

2) Song-- During his time as a fugitive, you begin to see just how self-conscious Zuko is around kids his age.  Of course, the last thing on his mind is finding a girlfriend, but he demonstrates how awkward he is as a teenager (and I don’t just mean because he’s a Fire Nation fugitive in Earth Kingdom territory).

When he meets Song, his focus is only to get his Uncle healed, not paying mind to the hospitality this family has given them.  He acknowledges Song’s kindness and her family’s suffering because of the Fire Nation, and it emotionally hits him when he finds out she’s been hurt.  And yet, despite her being a healer, Zuko doesn’t let Song touch his scar.  Zuko isn’t thinking about relationships.  He’s on the run with his Uncle and is only thinking about survival.  Song wasn’t necessarily a “love interest” for Zuko, but this is the first time we as viewers see a kind, sweet girl try to have a connection with him, and how Zuko—perhaps in any other circumstance—may have developed feelings for her.  

3) Jin-- When Zuko and Iroh make it Ba Sing Se, there’s plenty of time to “lay low” without feeling like anyone is after them, and we have another chance at seeing Zuko making a connection with a girl.  With Jin, there is a definitely crush from the girl to Zuko, and she doesn’t even acknowledge the boy’s scar.  Zuko is  awkward, almost uncomfortable trying to be a normal teenager when it’s clear his life has been so different.  He still does a sweet gesture to try and make Jin happy (risking his own safety as a Fire Nation fugitive), but it isn’t enough to have Zuko say that he wants to see Jin again after that date.  However… we do learn that Zuko likes dating, of having a connection with someone, even if that connection is not meant to last more than one date.

**My personal take with Song and Jin and is that these two girls had that sweet, nurturing, caring trait that Zuko desired, but they still lacked a certain type of passionate, fierce attentiveness that Zuko also needed in a partner to really “reach” him fully as a person.**

So, with all of these potential suitors... why Zutara?

The ironic thing here is that Zuko and Katara had run-ins with each other since the start of the show. They were on opposite sides of the war, fought each other, saw their bending abilities develop more powerfully each time, had a chance to talk and have a mutual connection… and also went on a private mission that nobody else wanted them to do.  Zuko and Katara had opportunities throughout the show to really “see” each other as complex characters… but the beautiful thing was that this was all happening *without* any romantic implications.  

With their minds preoccupied on bigger things through the war, Zuko and Katara’s interactions were forming the foundation to a life-long understanding and friendship, and... had the show continued… had the two of them finally had a chance to set aside some time in their lives to start dating people in the Post-War… it wouldn’t have surprised me if, one day, they would’ve just exchanged a glance as Fire Lord and Master Katara, and realized… “woah.”  

And it really does bring together the dreams and the realities of a good romance:  Sometimes it just takes a lot of patience, and time, meeting a lot of “potential suitors,” before you discover the person who’s meant to be The One.  

[tealeavesandthorns]

Maria sucked in a breath when he acknowledged he remember her and suddenly she felt panic race through her. If he remembered how much did he remember? If he remembered did he remember how she'd looked back then, suddenly she felt self-conscious.

"You remember-" She said softly, biting her lip and then she looked away from him. "Oh Gareth I- I- I didn't think you would but you need to know I don't- I mean- I-" She broke away from him with a frown furrowing her features and her hands worrying over each other. "I don't- I mean- I don't look like I did then- I don't, it's not just age, I'm, I have-" She rambled. She stopped pressing her thumb into the palm of her hand nervously. "There's, there's a lot of scars. I keep them hidden most of the time but I haven't, no one has-"

Maria could feel herself getting more flustered. No one had seen them, not like this, not in this sort of setting. She hadn't got that far with anyone else and she hadn't really wanted too. They were hard to explain and so obvious when her clothes weren't there. She'd had a reoccurring nightmare about dating and some unknown man with no face shouting at her about how she'd deceived him. Made him think he was getting one thing and then showing him another.

"I just-" But she couldn't quite form into words what she wanted to say.

Gareth followed her like a moth followed the light; upstairs, his mind on Maria. Only on Maria. He barely registered where he was, what was around them. Hell, there could have been someone sitting in the bedroom and he wouldn't have noticed.

However, when they finally did arrive, his hands dropped down, and Gareth let his gaze roam across the room for a moment. It wasn't exactly messy, but also not too clean and sterile. Most definitely, it was bigger and more crammed than her room twenty years ago. A smile returned to his features, as boyish as it used to be back then, and he moved a step closer to Maria, gently cupping her face with both his hands.

"You're still as beautiful as the last time I saw you..." Gareth whispered, unsure whether what he had said would creep her out.

[whump-town]

As Long As It's You

Chapter One

Summary: Boston AU which predates the show in which Hotch and Morgan are together when Gideon's decisions with Adrian Bale change the course of their lives.

Warning: typical violence and bomb stuff

Pairing: Hotchgan/Mortch

The air conditioning in the room rages through the August heat, Boston has nothing on Quantico humidity but the air is still dense. Uncomfortably thick and showing no reprieve in the days since they arrived. On top of the sheets, the thin comforter underneath his sweaty body, Derek looks up at the spackled ceiling. The room’s too poorly lit to see it well but the whirling patterns are still there, easy to track in their simplicity. The shower runs in the background. The bad water pressure and too hot water working to wear down Aaron’s edges, leave him in his bare-bones. Sleepy and compliantly ready for bed.

“Oh Aaron,” Derek sighs. He props himself up on his elbow, his face eaten by a smile he feels no control over. Wet hair standing in crossed, leaning patterns Aaron steps out of the bathroom. He’s wearing his favorite pajama pants, the one’s he packs on every long case away. An old worn cable knit sweater pulled down over his hands. “It’s too hot for that.” Derek sits up, shaking his head affectionately. Aaron’s cold natured but the room is too hot for that sweater.

Yawning, sweater-covered hand coming held over his mouth, Aaron trudges to the bed. Feet scuffing across the cheap worn carpet, he pays Derek no mind. Their physical differences are so apparent in this little room. Derek’s abs hard and flexed with his arms stretched up above his head, a toned leg thrown over the side of the bed. Foot dangling just above the carpet. Aaron is worn and scarred in places where Derek is hard and smooth. He’s marked and scuffed across his stomach, scars scattered over his skin. And Derek sees right through him. To the self-conscious fool underneath the layers of clothes he puts between them.

Aaron’s rolled over onto his side, back facing Derek. He’s attempting and failing to settle down. The comforter is miserable and the bed much too small for two grown men. Especially with the amount of distance Aaron’s attempted to put between them. He flinches when Derek’s hand comes to his back, slowly creeping up under his sweater until warm fingers spreading out over his skin. Derek’s palm over his stomach, holding him together. Attempting to pull Aaron into Derek’s skin, meld them into one person. “Is this okay?” Derek asks.

Aaron nods, the tears in his eyes slipping down to the pillow.

“For breakfast,” Derek mumbles, “we should get waffles.” He yawns, pressing closer until his chest is against Aaron’s back. “Mmm and bacon,” he whispers, dreamily. His stomach growls and Aaron laughs a deep chuckle. Derek squeezes him, kissing the back of his neck. “What are you laughing at? I’m basically wasting away! I’m starving.” Wet hair against his forehead, Derek presses his face into Aaron’s neck. Squeezing him tight, holding him to his chest so he can’t get away. Worm away like he sometimes does in the middle of the night.

With a yawn, Aaron taps Derek’s hand and turns around until he’s facing Derek. He scoots down until he can fit his head under Derek’s chin, presses his face against Derek’s chest. Crinkling his nose he mumbles, “your breath stinks.”

Derek huffs, “you are so mean to me, Agent Hotchner.” His hand comes down to tilt Aaron’s head up, Dere kisses Aaron’s forehead, then his nose. Smirking when Aaron tries to worm away from this too. He turns himself into a koala, throws a leg over Aaron’s hips, and pins his arms to his chest. Aaron fights it, always does, but he secretly loves it. Being held that close. “So terribly mean,” Derek whispers.

Aaron falls asleep first, the anxious feeling he’s grown to be quite accustomed to stifled by how tightly Derek holds him. It’s easier to sleep with someone else. He’d never asked for this particular treatment, had always assumed he was actually more of a hands-off kind of partner. In a lot of ways, he is but not in this one. He’s not asleep though when Derek kisses his cheek, his warm palm dragging up his back. Coming to rest against his cheek, thumb brushing against his lip. Aaron smiles, Derek smiles back catching the edge of his lips in a kiss.

It’s not surprising Derek never moves in the night. Aaron wakes up on his stomach, lifts his head up out of where he’s wedged his face between Derek’s shoulder and the pillow. Out of the warmth. He looks over his shoulder, frowns at how far his squirming has caused his sweater to ride up his back. He really doesn’t sleep all that calmly but that doesn’t explain everything. Especially not Derek’s hand resting against his ass, above his boxers but in his pants.

Aaron’s mastered the art of crawling out of Derek’s arms but the pants situation is not something he’s equipped for. Derek groans when he moves, unhappy to be shifted in his sleep but he stays asleep. Aaron gets dressed in the dark, his slacks making soft swishing noises as his legs slide into the designated holes.

“Aaron,” Derek whispers. The bedsheets make a soft swishing sound as Derek moves his hand along the sheets, making another discontent groaning sound. He rolls over, squints into the darkness until he can see Aaron moving around. “What’re you doing?” He rubs his eyes, sits up. “Babe, it’s early. Why are you up?”

Stifling a yawn with the back of his hand Aaron stumbles over to the bed. He trips on Derek’s pants, his disregarded clothing leaving a trail of tripping hazards for him to break his neck on. “I was gonna go to the hospital? Get the reports that Gideon was talking about. I have to get a jump on them because Gideon thinks there might be something in them we can use to build the profile.”

Derek hums, laying back down. He waves Aaron over, “lay back down.” He yawns, pulling the comforter back and leaving Aaron plenty of room to do just that. “Come on,” he whines. “Fifteen minutes, you don’t even need to go just yet.”

Aaron wants to disagree, to keep going on about his morning, but Derek reaches over and snags his hand. Tangles their fingers, pulls him closer. “Fine,” Aaron whispers. “Until you fall asleep.” He lays down where Derek was, immediately warmed by the heat Derek’s body left seeped into the covers. Derek attaches himself to Aaron’s back, pushes his face into Aaron’s back, and falls back to sleep. Like it’s nothing.

It’s much harder to get out of bed this time.

He shuts the door behind him softly, fighting the lock thudding back into place. As childish as it must look, he eases past Gideon’s door. Knows that if he’s found out Jason will chase him back to the room, he won’t find Aaron’s early start to the day ambitious but rather foolish. They’re all exhausted, they need to sleep. They’ve been in Boston for four intense days, split out across the city watching three different victims fall prey to a bomber. Derek’s breaking his back profiling bomb fragments, angry that he can’t provide the final answers they need in the profile. In whatever dark room he’s afforded, Aaron closes himself off with the case files. Looks over Derek’s notes and relays information about the victims to Jason.

They’re stuck.

At five, Derek wakes up alone. It’s not unusual.

He’s halfway down the stairs when he hears Gideon come out of his room. Derek looks over his shoulder, nods his head in acknowledgment to Gideon, and keeps walking. Neither have to say a thing to know where Aaron is. “Will you be joining us for breakfast?” Derek asks. He fails to keep his tone even, to not sound annoyed by Aaron sneaking off so early in the morning. It’s not healthy and if he’d been more awake he’d have stopped him. Aaron’s answer is no but he dancing around the answer enough to make it sound like a yes, Derek just isn’t stupid enough to fall for that anymore. “Here,” Derek shrugs it off. It’s too early for a fight. “Gideon wants to talk to you.”

He has blueberry pancakes because they’re doing a physically demanding job and living on an empty stomach isn’t healthy. No matter how Aaron dances around it. Gideon hangs up the call, Derek simply holding up his hand and shaking his head when Gideon tries to let him have the last word. He doesn’t want to talk to Aaron right now. He’s still bitter about his own four a.m. wake-up call and too hungry to make it through a conversation with him without snapping. And that’s not what either needs right now.

“He’s been distance lately,” Gideon says into his tea.

Derek grunts and keeps his head in his pancakes, doesn’t want to encourage the conversation.

“You going to be okay?”

Gideon knows but… Aaron and Derek aren’t sure about how much or to what extent. They know that he sees right through them and that’s a dangerous thing but he says nothing. Aaron dispels Derek’s fear with practiced words, a profile he’s been building since he met Gideon. He’s been watching how what little trusted information Aaron gives him blows over. What he reacts to and what he doesn’t. He’s only actually a little certain that Gideon won’t have them hung and tried for their crimes. Leave them for dead. Worse, outed to the entire government.

“I’m not sure,” Derek mumbles. He’s looking down into pancakes, picking one up with his fork and examining how pathetic and unappetizing it looks. “I think four more days in this city is going to kill him.” He drops his fork, runs his hands over his head, and just sits like that for a moment. This relationship and this silent moment go against everything he’s ever taught himself. Not to trust men, especially ones in power, but Gideon… When Aaron shuts a door like this Gideon has the flourish to pick the lock.

“Mmm,” Gideon agrees. He sets his mug down, wipes his mouth with a napkin, and clears his throat. “Well, I guess, we better get to work.”

Work pays in migraines.

Aaron comes back with reports upon reports. The receptionist offers them coffee when they step in -- she has a thing for Derek, which they all ignore in favor of her bringing them the freshest coffee -- she beams a smile at Derek and motions to Aaron sitting in the press conference room they’ve been given to work in. “He’s been here all morning, he’s like a robot.” Derek takes her coffee and doesn’t exchange the flirting like he has been, though it’s the unspoken payment for her coffee.

Gideon winks, patting her shoulder and expressing his gratitude for the coffee. “He is,” Gideon agrees, “that’s why we keep him around.” He laughs even he doesn’t find it that funny. He busies himself outside of the room they’ve been working in none-stop since they got here. Out of the corner of his eye, he watches Derek wake Aaron up, purposely distancing themselves so the outside world doesn’t see. To hide how badly Derek wants to wipe the file’s imprint on Aaron’s cheek away with his sleeve. He gives them enough time to settle things and he steps into the room, clearing his throat. “Well, it seems since Hotch has such a jump on us this morning, why don’t you tell us what you’ve found?”

Hotch looks up at Derek but stands, clearing his throat. He has to move his shirt around, sleeping on paperwork has worn down his charm and carefully curated look. “I was looking at the -- the metal rods Derek found in the bombs--” his trembling hands hunt through the files. Searching for the pictures that Derek took but he ends up making a mess, the papers too thin for his uncoordinated hands. Derek pushes him away, takes over the mission and finds the prize before Aaron can start stuttering through his findings again. “I thought they made it seem like all that matters is the bombs. Not the victims, that explains why there isn’t a type, in the victimology. He’ll kill anyone because it’s about the bombs, not the victims. It’s about the rush, the fire, and the control.”

Derek nods, he’s not so sure that’s what the metal rods are there for. It’s maximum carnage for a great distance, over-kill for one soul person. To him, it just sounds like Aaron isn’t sleeping enough.

Gideon seems to agree but he’s pleasantly forgiving. Aaron’s worked hard for the last four days carrying more than his share of the profile. “It’s good, that’s good.” With a nod, he shifts the focus to Derek. “I think I’m going to split us up today. Send Derek to look at the bombs again. There has to be something we’re missing there.” Gideon steps to leave the room but turns back, “keep looking into the rod thing, Hotch. I think you’re on to something.”

With two light slaps to the doorframe, Gideon disappears back into the station. To the whirs and light conversation being had by the officers. Where Aaron knew Derek would eventually abandon him too as well. Disappearing into the uniforms easily, not returning until lunch or dinner. Coming back to reprimand him about whatever meal he’s missed or how he didn’t call Derek back. But for just a second Derek keeps his hand on Aaron’s shoulder, soaks in all the physical proximity he can before he has to step away. Turn themselves into different people, with different motives.

“I love you,” Derek whispers, stepping away from Aaron. “Please, please get lunch with Gideon. Do not sit in this room all day. You need to get some sun.” He hesitates to leave the room completely, wants to stay here just a little longer. Bask in Aaron’s proximity before he has to go sit in front of his own reports all day, looking at pictures of charred bodies and analyzing bomb fragments. “We should take a day when this is over. Go to the beach, drink vodka out of a watermelon on the sand.”

Aaron’s head has already gone back to his hands, fingers seeping through his dark hair. “I don’t like the sand,” he mumbles. It’s childish, it’s picking a fight where there doesn’t need to be one. He doesn’t like the sand but he does like the beach. How happy that it makes Derek and even dragging chairs and an umbrella down to the water. Letting Derek pull him into the waves and falling asleep hours later with skin warmed by the sun, Derek’s arms holding him down, and the residual rocking of phantom waves easing him to sleep. It sounds… amazing but he’s just in the mood to be an asshole.

“Think about it,” Derek asks, “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

He does think about it. He wants to spend hours in the car with Derek, listening to his music shift in styles and decades the farther they get away from Quantico, Virginia. To feel the residual ache of a nap he takes in the car, neck bent awkwardly to rest his head against the window and Derek’s hand on the inside of his thigh. To be awakened by the sun on his face, the heat of it good against his chilled skin. To go on long walks along the boardwalk, taking bites out of the greasy food Derek loves, and to hold his hand when it gets dark enough. To initiate contact only when the night swells his chest with bravery, daring anyone to say anything when the buzz of alcohol in his veins fills him with liquid courage. Just the sun and the beach and Derek.

But there isn’t a break in the case.

Only a hostage.

A forty-seven-year-old white man, the bomb held in his shaking hands. His front porch is too small for most of the officers so they have to regroup, come up with a proper plan. The hostage won’t last much longer in the heat. Adrenaline and humidity will do him in. They’re fighting two clocks. They need Derek here but he’s halfway to Virginia, consulting with Gideon in angry shouts as the two feverishly disagree with the plan they’re making. Derek doesn’t trust Bale to tell them what they need, Gideon thinks he’s a coward, he’ll cave.

“I’ll do it,” Aaron interrupts. He’s wearing his vest, already hooked up. If Gideon mans the negotiations, tries to get Bale to tell them what to cut he can handle getting closer to the bomb. Being their man in the field, the filter between what Gideon says and making sure what Derek says gets done. It would be far more helpful to just have Derek doing it, someone here who understands everything. Aaron knows about bombs… he learned about them as a cadet but he knows enough. To help. To get this handled.

“No,” Derek says and Gideon nods his head, “go. Keep your radio on 4, I don’t want anyone else out there.”

Aaron nods, all he needs to say is done. His vest agitates the skin under his arms but as he pulls the straps in tight it stifles the anxiety hammering through his bones. It’s comforting, it’s dangerous.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Aaron looks up, knows he’s the only person that can hear Derek through his earpiece but he still freezes a little. Glances over at Gideon now bowed back over his preciously set up desk, on the phone with Bale and trying to find some way to make this disastrous situation end without more death. Under his breath, he answers Derek, “my job. Someone needs to be out there. You’re not here. So it has to be me.” He looks down at himself, vest pulled down to meet his belt. Zipper up. Radio properly fed to his ear. “Are you ready?” Aaron asks, clenching his fists tight. Calm, he needs to be calm.

“Aaron, please be careful.”

There isn’t actually much that he can do. He’s a mid-point, a place wedged between phone calls. A voice to be drowned into the mix of others, not as important as Gideon’s sharp no non-sense negotiating. He’s a body in the sea, a calm voice. “Eric,” he offers calmly, “just hold still for us. We’ll get you out of here.” The poor man’s hands are showing no signs of steadying out. The bomb explosive element is mercury -- perhaps it’s not the explosive element but Derek was telling him about all this while they were laying in bed, Derek’s fingers scratching at his scalp so no he wasn’t paying enough attention. Mercury, though, is very unsteady, and the way the bombs are made the mercury is unstable. It’s going to tilt over and… boom.

“Agent Hotchner,” a bomb squad agent steps forward. “I’m going to approach the bomb now. Agent Gideon and Agent Morgan have spoken to Bale, he’s helping them.”

Aaron nods steps out of the way. “Eric, this man is going to help you, okay? Just keep steady, alright?”

It’s agonizingly slow. Aaron stays close, he’s only allowed at the bottom of the porch. Eric standing right by the door to the house. He says what he has to, what he’s trained to. It’s not that hard, he trusts Derek and he trusts Gideon. No matter how his gut twists. How at the back of his mind he’s reminded that he thinks this is all end-game, it ends in a bang. How seven federal agents would make the best ending, a great story for a bad guy.

“Eric,” the bomb squad agent says. “I’m going to disarm the bomb now--”

Seven hundred miles away and Derek Morgan feels that bomb shatter his world.

[myidlehand]

Witcher star trek AU

Vesemir is the very tired Captain who has to keep this ship somewhat in one piece. He's been in Starfleet so long he should be an Admiral by now. But he refuses to be taken out of the field because he hates political bullshit. Most times he lets the young ones run around on away missions but he does join from time to time. He would like Eskel to take his place one day.

Geralt is the Chief Security Officer who likes no one and nothing except he would die for any of them in an instant. He's pretty taciturn and prefers to follow orders but can take charge when the situation demands it. He's the highest ranking officer after Vesemir and Eskel. His entire team has standing orders to be particularly aware of Jaskier's movement and location at any time. Both for his safety (the man is dumb and WILL potentially make any situation impossible without meaning to) and because he's capable of starting an intergalactic war just because someone made Eskel self conscious or insulted Geralt (it happened twice and both time Vesemir had to interfere and he was NOT happy about it). He just wants to be left in peace and sleep really.

Jaskier is the Communication Officer with the most talented tongue anybody has ever seen. Or rather heard. He's can pick up new languages in a flash and can reproduce sounds nobody else can manage, which makes him very handy in the away team. He also can and will charm the pants of anyone and anything easily. His only purpose in life is to be as ridiculous as possible just to make Geralt crack a smile. Their consoles are across each others on the bridge and he takes full advantage of that. Geralt refuses to acknowledge he like the man but Jaskier has no problems waiting for him.

Eskel is the Chief Engineer (just because I want to see him all sexy and dirty from the engine don't judge me) and he's the First Officier. He's Geralt best friend and the nicest bear around. But with all the heavy lifting he does all day he could crush you with his pinky. And he will if you threaten his family/the crew. Other than that he's pretty chill and the entire crew loves him. He has a big scar on his face from the time an engine blew up and he jumped in front of a ensign to protect her. He's pretty self councious about it and will often hide away in the engine room when he feels like people are staring at him. He doesn't realise they stare cause he's fucking huge and beautiful in and out.

Lambert is the dashing daring pilot. He barely ever listens to Vesemir at the best of times and Eskel is pretty much the only one who can shut him up with just a look. He used to be a massive flirt but fell hard the first time he saw Eskel and has eyes for nobody else now which Eskel still has trouble believing even when Lambert whisper how much he loves him at night. So Lambert does it often. He also something scream it in a middle of a corridor when Eskel is being particularly stupid about it, just to make him blush (Lambert is as weak as I am for Eskel, don't judge him either). He acts pretty cocky but he's actually not all that confident and needs to know he did good. Except you can't tell him cause he'll tell you to fuck off.

Yen is the Science Officer and she's so done with all the shenanigans going on on the bridge. She's probably the most intelligent person on this damn ship and ends up resolving a lot of the stupid stuff the others get into. She should be appreciated more and won't mind telling you you're wrong. She hangs out often with Eskel who's the only other intelligent life form in this ship according to her. She pretends she hates all of them but they all know it's not all that true.

Ciri is a trainee from the academy who just joined the ship for the first time. She hasn't fully decided if she want to go the science path like Yen or if she wants to go into security like Geralt. She's confident and very talented and Geralt has no doubt she'll captain her how vessel one day.

Triss is one of the ship's doctor. She's often enlist the help of Coën, her favourite nurse to fix up everybody. She knows everybody's secrets and not so secretly loves all the gossip.

Roach is the nickname Geralt gave to his favourite shuttle. They re all identical but he swears this one in particular is the best every time Lambert, who actually pilot the things, calls him out on it.

[snarkythewoecrow]

Prompt time! I know you've taken prompts for more serious subjects and mental health related stuff and I've absolutely loved them. If you are comfortable to write it and it won't be triggering, would you write like a sequel to your rubber band/coping mechanism fic where Peter goes to Tony when he has an urge to hurt himself or afterwards for helping cleaning up? Either that or a fic unrelated to that one where Tony sees Peter's old self harm scars or finds out that Peter still does sh? Just something irondad that's related to that subject but only if you are okay with writing it! I completely understand if it's something you don't wanna write more off, I just thought I'd ask anyway if that's okay

Sorry it took me so long to write, but here it is!

Read on AO3

*Trigger Warning for Self-harm and Blood*

In the kitchen at the lake house, Peter sat at the center island, watching Tony thread macaroni onto yarn as Morgan painted the necklace she’d already made. Noodles were scattered everywhere, and when you walked, there was a good chance you’d hear pasta crunching underfoot.

Morgan had paint from her hands to her hair, and Tony wasn’t fairing much better. Morgan had already made them all necklaces and was working on her fifth. The one she’d made Peter was draped around his neck. She'd said the one she made him was extra special because it had wagon wheels laced between the macaroni.

Peter was on the end of the island on a stool, his textbook carefully placed to avoid the smears of paint and glue. Thankfully, after the glitter balloon incident, Pepper banned glitter from the house, so Peter didn’t need to worry about that.

All in all, he should have been happy, but he wasn’t, and he wasn’t sure why that was, either.

Things had been better in the months since Tony had found Peter on the back porch that night, since they’d talked about his self-harming, but that didn’t mean that sometimes, for a reason Peter didn’t understand, he still had bad days—like today.

Everyone in his life was healthy and happy, things were going well at school, but he still couldn’t get the itch to cut out of his mind. Some days were definitely worse than others, and he’d been building toward this bad day all week. The rubber band on his wrist was getting plenty of use.

Tony had told him that he could come to him whenever he needed but seeing Tony smiling as he played with Morgan, he knew he couldn’t. He couldn’t bring the mood down. He didn’t want to be the reason the worry lines in Tony’s face deepened.

It was already hard enough to use the rubber band with Tony nearby. He always got this look—somewhere between sadness and concern. Peter hated causing that look, so he’d done the only thing he could to avoid it. He stopped snapping the band when he was with Tony.

It was easier this way. What Tony didn’t know, couldn’t hurt him, or at least, that’s what Peter told himself.

The cloud over Peter’s head wasn’t lightening up, and he felt overwhelmed like his lungs were filling with water, and he was going under. He fingered the band on his wrist, wanting to snap it, just to feel something, but then Tony laughed, and Morgan giggled, the box of macaroni spilled, and Peter—Peter just couldn’t do it.

He closed his textbook and excused himself from the table, mumbling that he had a headache and needed to lay down. Before he made it out of the kitchen, Tony called after him, telling him dinner was in a few hours and he’d check on him then.

Peter forced a smile, ducking his head and scurrying up the stairs, leaving the sounds of Morgan’s laughter behind him.

When he got to his room, he shut the door, falling against it, still clutching his textbook. He didn’t have a headache like he’d told Tony, but he didn’t know what else to say at the time, though with the tension in his body, a headache was a real possibility soon.

He kicked off the door and walked over to his bed, pausing by the desk to drop his textbook with a thump. He collapsed on the bed, so his legs were still hanging off the side.

With Tony no longer able to witness it, Peter snapped the band on his wrist, but it brought no relief from the deep need to cut. The feeling was so consuming Peter thought he could taste it. The flavor reminded him of ash. He hated that he felt this way, but he didn’t know how to control it.

Tony had paid for therapy, and May made sure he went, but the coping skills only helped so much.

When it was like this, nothing else seemed like it could scratch the itch—not as well as a knife.

His therapist had suggested holding ice cubes when the urge got bad, but that would mean going to the kitchen, and Tony would notice. He would ask. Then worry lines would etch the man’s face, and Peter would feel even worse because he put them there.

Drawing on his arms was a nearly laughable suggestion. His therapist had suggested a red pen for effect. Peter didn’t have a red pen, and it never worked in the past. The only thing he knew that could make him feel better came with a healthy dose of guilt. He knew hurting himself would temporarily make it all melt away.

But the worst part—the part that made Peter feel like a failure—was he didn’t even know what had triggered it. Everything had been going well. Maybe he really did come back from the snap wrong.

Frustrated, angry, Peter sat up and scrubbed his hands over his face. The urge to just make a little cut or dig his nails just deep enough to break skin was all-consuming. The band on his wrist felt more like a reminder of his failures than a lifeline—a way to pull himself back.

He wanted to scream at the unfairness of it all.

Then it reached a point where it started to hurt in his chest, and he just needed something to focus it all back, to let him breathe, and without conscious thought, he started clawing at his arm. The little stabs of pain felt grounding, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t the fix he needed.

The crescent-shaped cuts and scratches oozed blood as Peter got up and went looking for a knife, for something to cut with. He’d given his utility knife to Tony, but he thought they both knew that wouldn’t stop him, not when he felt like this.

A small part of him thought he should call out to Tony, but then he remembered how happy they’d looked, and he didn’t want to spoil that. He’d deal with this on his own.

He slipped out of his room, listening to make sure no one was close, then darted to the bathroom. His chances of finding something to cut with seemed higher in a bathroom.

When he got to the bathroom, he started rifling through the cabinet but not finding much. He came across spare toothbrushes and travel-size shampoos and soaps, but nothing sharp. He looked under the sink, knowing there should be a first aid kit, and where there was a first aid kit, there might be scissors.

He found his prize with a shaky sigh. Setting the scissors on the counter, Peter stuffed the kit back under the sink, pocketed the scissors, and headed back to his room.

When he got to the hall, he heard Tony talking, telling Morgan something about a spaghetti monster. It made guilt twist in his gut, settling there and starting to fester.

He ran back to his room as quickly as he dared, then shut his door, locking it for good measure.

The feeling that washed over him as he took the scissors from his pocket was one part relief, one part anticipation, and the rest self-loathing. He knew he wasn’t just letting himself down. He was letting those who cared about him down, too.

That didn’t stop him from sitting in the desk chair, putting the blade to his arm, and cutting, though.

It happened so easily, and when he did it, he put all those bad feelings into it, turning the negative emotions and guilt into something manageable, something he could do something about. Physical pain made sense. It had a cause, a source, a purpose. And the blood that welled up from the cut made sense, too. It all made sense in a way his emotions didn’t, and he needed it.

The one cut wasn’t enough, though. It had been hesitant and not that deep. The bleeding was already stopping.

Peter felt like the world was muted and focused down to the blade and his arm. He pressed the metal harder against his skin and dragged it until he reached the underside of his arm. It bled much more freely, and Peter felt almost high from it.

Wanting to see more, needing the cause and effect of it, he cut again just below the second, pressing even harder. The skin split neatly under the blade.

He was just about to make another when the door handle jiggled, followed by a knock.

“Pete?” Tony’s voice drifted through the door. “Why’s the door locked?”

Peter’s high came crashing down, and reality wasn’t gentle. It hit suddenly how stupid he’d been. It was like realization hit him all at once. One thing had so easily turned into another. And Peter had taken each step without truly acknowledging the direction he was heading. And the place it brought him wasn’t great. He was locked in his room with a bleeding arm, having used Tony’s scissors, and ignored every chance he’d had to reach out for help. Tony had only been a shout away.

His body felt like it had locked up as the emotions swirled within him. He dropped the scissors on the floor, clattering against the wood, and he looked down at his arm, really seeing the damage for the first time outside of the warped lens of need.

It was bad. It was really bad. He might not need stitches, but it would be close, and the blood was everywhere. There were droplets on his jeans and on the floor, rivulets running down his arm.

He didn’t know what to do or what to say. His voice had been stolen by the grief he was feeling. He wasn’t just mourning himself. He was mourning the loss of trust he knew he’d just caused. He wasn’t ready to face the music.

The door handle jiggled again, and there was another round of knocking, even louder. “Peter, open the door.”

His heart kept hitting his ribs so hard he thought it would bruise.

He didn’t want to lie, but he didn’t know how to tell the truth. He hated himself for not just telling Tony how he’d been feeling. With more clarity than before, he realized now that Tony would probably have been proud.

He wouldn’t be proud now.

He would be sad or angry or worse—disappointed.

If Peter were honest, he was pretty disappointed in himself, enough for the both of them, enough for the world. He felt like a failure.

He didn’t want to be a liar, though, but he didn’t know what to do, so he called out to Tony, “Just a minute.”

He grabbed some tissues from his desk and tried to dab some of the blood up, but it just smeared it around, making his arm look like part of a crime scene. He’d really done it this time. Once Tony saw, there would be no going back. He’d see how broken Peter was and not want him anymore. No one wanted to deal with this, no matter how much they said they cared.

Tears started to well in his eyes, frowning so hard his face hurt. He kept a tissue pressed to the deepest cut and stood. He looked to the window, considering escaping the only way he could. He knew it wasn’t an option, though, and would only make things worse.

Accepting his fate, his body and mind feeling weighted, Peter shuffled to the door and unlocked it. He stepped back so it could swing open, closing his eyes and waiting for Tony to realize.

There were footsteps and Tony saying, “You know you’re not supposed to lock the door.”

Then Peter heard it. The air sucking into Tony’s lungs.

Peter’s shoulders fell, and the tears in his eyes broke free, rolling down his cheeks.

“Jesus Christ.” Then a hand grabbed his arm, and Peter opened his eyes, his eyelashes clumped together by tears. The devastation was clear on Tony’s face.

“I’m sorry,” Peter said. The apology wasn’t nearly enough, though. Nothing really would be. There weren’t words for times like these.

Tony’s expression was pinched. He shook his head, letting out a breath, then saying, “I’m not mad.”

And Peter wondered who he was trying to convince.

Peter nodded, his face twisting into some ugly and raw. “I don’t know what happened. I know I shouldn’t have—I didn’t mean it. You gotta believe me.”

Tony’s expression softened, and when he swallowed, it looked painful. “We can talk about it later. Let’s get you cleaned up first.”

Then he was guiding Peter to his bed, sitting him down. He grabbed some extra tissues and pressed them to the wounds.

“Hold those there. Keep pressure. I’ll go get the first aid kit.” Then Tony’s foot hit the scissors, and he looked down, his head shaking a little. He bent down and picked the scissors up. Licking his lips, he said, “Will you be okay for a second?”

Peter wasn’t sure he’d ever be okay again, but he nodded anyway, not trusting his voice.

With a nod, Tony turned and dipped out of the room. Thankfully, or maybe not, he was back before Peter could think too much about what he’d done.

Tony pulled the chair closer and sat, the first aid kit on the desk. He dug out the supplies he needed and lined them up, opening the packets of gauze. Then he lifted Peter’s hand and the tissues from the cuts, assessing the damage. The bleeding had stopped.

No one said anything, and Peter wasn’t sure if that was better or worse.

With methodical movements, Tony cleaned the cuts, and a few times, Peter thought Tony had been close to saying something, but each time, he’d just shaken his head and gone back to tending his wounds.

As Tony taped the gauze in place, he finally asked, “Was there something I could have done? Something I didn’t do? I just—” He cut himself off with a sigh, then straightened. “You know you can come to me, right?”

Peter couldn’t meet Tony’s gaze, so he stared at his shoulder. “You seemed so happy today. I didn’t want to spoil it. You and Morgan—” He shook his head. “I didn’t want to ruin the mood. Sometimes it feels like that’s all I do, you know?”

Tony sighed, scrubbing a hand over his mouth. “I know you think—let’s just say I’d rather you told me than finding you like this. I know I’m not an expert, but I could’ve helped distract you if I’d known. It might not have been easy, but I want the chance to help you—no matter what mood you think you’re ruining.”

Peter nodded, the tears back in his eyes. He felt all-encompassing guilt for what he’d done. “I don’t know what to do—how to fix this.”

“We take it one step at a time. Relapses happen, and when they do happen, it doesn’t make you a failure.” He squeezed Peter’s knee. “Recovery isn’t linear. It might feel like it’s all over, and you can’t fix it, but it’s really just a little bump in the road, a little hitch in the graph. The line is still moving forward and up.”

He wanted to believe Tony, but it was hard. He didn’t feel like he deserved the kind of understanding Tony gave him. He felt sick for what he’d done, and it would be so much easier if Tony were angry. He could deal with that.

His arms wound themselves around his middle without his consent as he tried to hold himself together. The cuts on his arms barely stung any more, which he was thankful for. The pain wasn’t a good feeling now. It didn’t settle him like it had. Instead, it reminded him how badly he’d screwed up.

“Oh, kiddo,” Tony said as he got up and moved to sit beside Peter. Then his arm wrapped around Peter’s shoulders and tugged him closer.

Peter sank into his side, his breath hitching as he fought a sob.

Tony pressed his lips to Peter’s hair, his breath warm against his scalp. “We’re gonna get through this. Just you watch.”

Then Peter broke, and it was an ugly sound. He choked on the sobs as they erupted from him, tears dripping from his chin, snot clogging his nose. His shoulders shook as he fell apart, or maybe not really, as Tony was doing a pretty good job of holding him together.

And wasn’t that the meat of it.

Because Peter realized amidst the tears that no matter what, Tony and the others in his life, they weren’t giving up on him—no matter how badly he screwed things up.

Tony held him until he could breathe again, then he cleaned himself up and changed out of the bloody jeans, and he and Tony went to finish making dinner. Morgan was at the table with Pepper, both wearing macaroni necklaces and big smiles.

If either of them noticed the bandages, they didn’t say a word, and when Tony patted his shoulder and told him to grab a chair, it felt something like forgiveness or understanding.

Things weren’t always great, and the line of the graph might hitch, but Peter could see that it was still moving up, still moving forward, and he thought that just might mean he’d be okay.

[infintasmal]

"I CAN BE NICE," she's being nice right now, in fact. She has not kicked, sneered at or elbowed Yingxing since entering his workshop. In fact, she sought him out specifically out of everyone in their strange ragtag group because she trusts ( is that the word? ) him to not rat her out. That's nice. Or at least, it's not mean. Not unless they're both caught and he's roped in as an accomplice to her jailbreak. ( A harsh exaggeration when she was only told to take some time to rest in her own room until she'd finished healing. But she can heal just fine wandering around, just because it's hard to breath doesn't mean she can't. The smell of medical herbs, flashes of fire behind her eyes, will only make things worse. )

Jingliu tilts her head to the side, gaze careful in the way it watches his movements, the brief moments between expressions, a leopard watching through the grass. He wants to see her injuries, probably out of some professional curiosities. Unless he intends to mock her in which she will be mean. She's self conscious about revealing herself, especially when she's injured, the way an animal hides to lick their wounds. It's not out of some girlish modesty, she's spent most of her life changing in the same barracks as the men in her units because she simply can't be bothered to hide. And yet, she is always covered, long gloves, high collars, she hates to feel the air against her, hates to see someone witness her scars. But she's being nice. So she rolls her eyes, turns her back toward him because that seems like what she should do if she were modest or ladylike.

She undoes the belts around her robe, setting it to the side. Her tunic, once untied, opens in the front, exposing the center of her chest so she's not entirely bare-breasted in front of him. She slips the dudou off entirely. Her gloves stay on, coming up to her elbows, the trace of golden scars stark against the icy blue tones of her skin. She's wrapped in a tight brace around her ribs, to hold things in place while she heals. In the center, where the breastplate had bent against the strike, has blossomed with a darkened bruise, red and purple like spilled watercolor over her sternum, harsher at the point of impact. There are old scars beneath, places even her healing could not restore. When she turns to face him, it's with a near blank expression, one hand on her hip.

"Do you make all of your clients disrobe when they break their armor? Or is mine a special sort of torment?" She asks, one brow arching beneath her bangs. "I can't say it's the most extraordinary of wounds, perhaps not as exciting as you wish." She doesn't say it, but deep beneath her quiet snips is the acknowledgement that his armor prevented further damage, a bone piercing her heart, perhaps. Much more annoying to heal through.

there’s an unspoken understanding between them, one that yingxing isn’t inclined to be the first to address. he’s well aware that she shouldn’t be here and jingliu probably knows it too. people are always quick to tell her to rest, though it seems to be advice she seldom takes. in truth, it’s advice yingxing rarely follows himself. rest, for them, is more of a jest than a reality. he knows jingliu is more than capable of taking care of herself, if she weren’t, he trusts a certain high elder and his ever-loyal pilot friend to step in when necessary.

this is a debate yingxing actively avoids, an argument left untouched. after all, he’d be the ultimate hypocrite to tell jingliu to rest while he himself spends days and nights at his forge, with his only reprieve being the occasional slow blink. so, he doesn’t question her presence here, in his space, chatting as though she hadn’t just narrowly escaped serious injury. had it not been for that chestplate, remarkably still intact despite everything, it might’ve been worse. that, of course, is yingxing’s doing, or so he decides. because if one thing is clear to him, it’s that jingliu isn’t exactly a master of dodging.

“ surprised ? not much going on in his head then. i do not know what you’d expect in a situation like that. i’d say a sword in his throat is quite the nice response from someone like you .” a trace of playfulness lingers in his voice as he speaks, setting the chestplate aside for now. it’ll be a task for another day, one where he has the time to restore it properly, when jingliu isn’t standing there, watching him. he crosses his arms over his chest, his white hair loosely clinging to the pin that barely holds it in place. “ well ? are you not going to show me the injuries or have we become too prude to share our battle scars ? ”

[itsclydebitches]

Remember when this half was billed as when things get serious? Yet every time things started ramping up something threw the breaks on the tension. Salem is attacking? Sits around waiting for the cane nuke. Ironwood is going to bomb mantle? Convenient defections allows him to be defeated in about a minute. Penny will self-destruct! LMAO, make her a "real-girl". Only with one episode left are people actually in any appreciable danger and the main cast aren't dealing with the sideshows.

I don’t think RWBY gets that consequences needs to both occur and influence the narrative for a significant length of time, if not the rest of the story. As you say, anon, the vast majority of our big problems have been solved both too easily and with no downsides: Salem and the whale are blown up, Ironwood is stopped, Penny is saved. This just leaves minor consequences, all of which, while fulfilling that first requirement of existing, don’t impact the story in any meaningful way: 

Nora does scar herself helping Penny. I think that’s the best RWBY has managed this volume (potentially excluding the finale right now for obvious reasons), but the problem is that Nora is still precisely the same Nora after this event. Is Nora inconvenienced in any way? No, she’s able to hope right back into the fight as soon as she’s fully conscious. Has she learned anything? No, because Ren reassures her that she did everything she should have. They don’t even talk about the scars past this generic reassurance, instead focusing on how Ren was supposedly a bad friend and Nora wants space  — a relationship conflict that may or may not develop further. What have these scars achieved? If they don’t change our character in any way, or change those around them, if they’re not a catalyst for something (notably, something other than giving the group an excuse to stay safe in the mansion considering the show never framed that as an excuse)... then they’re purely cosmetic filler. It’s just a more dramatic version of Nora getting a haircut like Blake and Jaune last volume. She has scars now, new character model! That’s it. 

Penny becoming human. Same as everything above. Has a second near death experience and being given a human body changed Penny in any way? Doesn’t seem like it. Has it changed her battle style? No. Has it changed her goals, desires, outlook, or the challenges she faces? Again, not that we’ve seen. It’s cosmetic. Penny is precisely the same Penny she was prior to the change and I don’t mean that in a, “Penny was always herself” way, I mean it in a “Penny’s arc could be removed entirely from the story and it wouldn’t matter.” 

We learn of a consequence from long ago in the form of Summer likely becoming a grimm servant of Salem. This is immediately dropped because there’s everything else to deal with. 

We learn that Oscar used up a large portion of a magical weapon and automatically we don’t care because no one  — characters or audience  — knew that weapon existed to attach expectations to. But then this is also immediately dropped even though this is a limitation that should be a major concern of the cast. 

Yang falls into a void. Everyone watching knows that she didn’t die. Maybe she’ll come out of this changed in some way... but based on everything above, it’s unlikely. 

Cinder, as of the latest episode, has had the most development lately thanks to failure and consequences. 

But RWBY’s main characters are incredibly static. No one has developed since Volume 6. No one has learned anything outside of objective info. Did they realize the horrible mistakes they made regarding Ozpin and learned to apologize? No, he apologized again, just as he did three volumes ago. Did they come to a better understanding of why their “We will make things perfect” mentality is dangerous? No, Ruby sat around in a mansion until the “perfect” answer came to her and she proceeded to ignore all the damage she caused in waiting around for it. Did Ren come to a better understanding of himself and help the group acknowledge their flaws? No, he was told he was wrong until he reverted to precisely who he’d been before: quiet and agreeable. Did Nora learn not to try to solve everything by hitting it really hard? No, she did precisely that, got injured, and was reassured that she could keep that up because it’s who she is. Did Yang likewise ever learn not to run into dangerous situations without thinking? No, she just repeated her actions from Volume 3, once again getting grievously injured. Have the bees made any progress in their relationship? No, they’re still at the forehead touch stage. Does Oscar have to work through anything after being physically and magically tortured for multiple episodes? No, he shrugs it off entirely and, once his aura comes back, the magicked away bruises tell the audience to forget it too. Has Oscar become a different person as the merge takes hold? Not unless we count his body language changing a little bit. The show keeps saying the merge is speeding up and that it’s this big, existential threat... but their dynamic is exactly what it was in Volume 4. 

RWBY thinks of change in terms of things like, “Ren can randomly see emotions now,” not “Ren acknowledges something about their behavior and helps the group come to a better understanding of their actions, growing as people, not just fighters.” I don’t think the writers actually want the characters to change, not in any meaningful sense. Unless I’m proven incredibly wrong with Yang (here’s hoping) I suspect that our end volume crew will look exactly like they did in Volume 6, with the exception of some souped-up powers and, if we’re lucky, confirmation that sometimes they kiss their partner. That’s it. Regarding everything else, the characters will inevitably regress, or they’ll never be given the chance to develop in the first place, and that’s in large part because all of the stakes in the show now  — world-wide and personal  — are inevitably magicked away with the wand the show claims the characters don’t possess, but absolutely do. 

[vancilocs]

Is kabal and zephi on the table 👀 just dont answer what doesnt apply aaand colm and naomi?

they have a Thing going on

Who's the one who's reckless and always getting into trouble while the other gotta pull em out

They both think the other is the reckless one! But not getting in trouble, just being careless. Kabal would always like to make sure Zephi gets home safe and Zephi makes Kabal promise he drives safely

Colm doesn't think there's anything reckless about Naomi going into the forest during new moon, his mom disagrees

Who's the one to send the other "I love my gf/bf" memes

Kabal sends memes appreciating rude and powerful women who kick him in the nuts

If they had phones, Naomi more

Who's the one who listens to a music genre the other doesn't like and how does the other react

Kabal is dad rock 100% and that's his playlist when on roadtrips, Zephi is welcome to suggest other songs or even make her own roadtrip playlist if she wants to, but please don't be rude abt his taste in music

They'd both listen to folk rock sampled with mushroom growth sounds and throat singing

How one spoils the other more and do they ever get competitive to show the other more love

Not really? Zephi spoils Kabal by letting him stay at her place for a night or two, he spoils her by giving her flowers sometimes

Colm spoils Naomi by giving her extra affection, Naomi spoils Colm by letting him be by himself sometimes (but makes sure solitude doesn't drive him into a worse headspace)

How many years did it take to get married or was it just not for them

They haven't even discussed being serious yet, marriage isn't a big thing for either so like. It's whatever

Weddings and marriage aren't really a big thing in the clan, people just end up together and move in together and have kids without there necessarily being a ceremony (more like just a bonfire party). They just... became an item.

Are their friends/family supportive

Yeah... mostly. Mehara is fine with Zephi, Hafza is happy for her dad, Gabriel is pleased Zephi might have found someone fun. Herah is still very dubious but also doesn't want to interfere too much, Zephi is a grown woman who can do her own decisions

Very much so, Mahran is so happy to see Colm happy and she also very much likes Naomi. Myra couldn't be more pleased, Kaede is glad and Koldun doesn't really care but he's not very close with Colm in the first place

How does one comfort the other when the other is in distress/having a panic attack/crying

-

Naomi has to be careful because if she spooks Colm when he's agitated he will teleport by accident and she doesn't want him dropping himself off the rooftop again. Just speak to him calmly, give him his own space, reassure him he's safe and at home. If he allows, hold his hand or hug him. If Naomi's crying or otherwise distressed Colm will just hug her and pet her hair until she's okay.

Which one dissociates

-

Colm mainly

Which one stares at the other's booty like "damn" and how does the other react when catching them

Both honestly and neither really minds? Kabal will just ask if Zephi likes what she sees

Neither much, sometimes it's fun to walk past and give the other's butt a pat just to hear them giggle

When they live together what kinda place do they live in? What does their home look like?

More like what does Zephi's place look like, Kabal is practically homeless lmao

Cozy and warm, not too small so it fits their kids later on as well, decorated with dried plants and wreaths and branches etc., a bit messy sometimes but it's very much a home and a very comforting place

What do their dates look like

Grabbing fast food or going to a diner after work at like midnight or 2am, maybe going to a bar for a couple, Kabal being invited to Zephi's place, he brings flowers and gets tied to a chair

Go for a long forest walk, maybe take some food along and have a picnic on a cliff or something, enjoy calm nature, have a snuggle, kiss a little, avoid werewolves,

How does each act when getting drunk

Kabal gets louder and more jovial, careful not to trip all over his long-ass legs

Naomi gets a little giggly and very talkative, will talk your ear off about the stars and bones and how you can see the future if you do this this and this under the full moon. Colm starts sobbing inconsolably

Which one rolls over in the morning to wake up the other one just to kiss them

Could be a delicate way for Zephi to say you need to leave my apartment

Naomi, but after letting Colm sleep for a while

Have they saved each other's lives before

Nope

Nah

Does one have an interest the other thinks is weird but wants to listen to it regardless

Zephi has to introduce Kabal into BDSM delicately so he realizes it's a bit more than just handcuffs

Colm might not quite get Naomi's psychic tendencies but he knows it's important to her and people haven't always believed her about it, so he will listen to whatever she has to say

Which one uses cropped hentai as reaction images

I don't think Kabal even crops it

-

Does one of them kinkshame the other

Kabal will let Zephi know of his limits but he never shames her

Naomi has no kinks, Colm is ace

Is one of them self-conscious about their body? If so how does the other comfort them

I don't know if either, Zephi is shy but fine about her body in general

Colm has the scar on his belly from that time his dad stabbed him he's uncomfortable about, Naomi just doesn't acknowledge it. He's not super comfortable being undressed anyways so just let him keep his clothes on and he's alright

What song do they listen to while going on a joyride

Kabal has a whole playlist of dad rock and synths for his hours-long drives

What kinda joyrides do they go on? Relaxing ones or wild ones?

Relaxing for Kabal at least, excitement for Zephi when he moves on the highway and speeds up

Do people ever get annoyed of their PDA

Herah gets annoyed at Kabal for breathing but otherwise not really? They don't really show it anyways

Never, it's just cute.

Would they live in the city or the country

It's whatever for Kabal. He'd be going on a long ride nowhere anyways

They live a bit outside the village proper, more quiet which they prefer

Are either of them mentally ill, if so how do they help one another cope

I don't think so? Zephi is just shy.

Colm is a mess of PTSD and general anxiety, Naomi is just weird otherwise but she's very quiet, calming and comforting so if Colm wants to talk she's always available to listen and if he wants to be alone she'll make sure he's fed/warm/dry at least

Does one have a spot on them where they would melt when the other kisses them there

Inner thighs, neck almost behind the ear, throat when his head is bent back for Kabal

Naomi lives for cheek and forehead kisses (and kisses on the mouth), Colm likes kisses on his head

Do they dance together

They could hit a club, sure. Kabal is not super good at it, but passable

Hum a song and sway together at home, if real happy maybe even do a little dance at a bonfire party

Do they sing together

I could see them (or at least Kabal) belting out a tune in the kitchen or something when there's a good song on the radio

Sometimes, one starts humming and the other one joins

Which one is better at cooking than the other and makes most the dinners

Zephi is probably better, Kabal sustains himself on fast food mainly

They both kinda suck. Colm can grill a pheasant on a firepit but that's about it, and Naomi can chop up a cucumber and put some leaves on top. Mahran teaches them how to make the basic casserole before they starve

Are they a reckless couple or safe

Bordering on reckless?

Very safe

What be they kinks and do they try each other's kinks

Kabal isn't aversed to milfs and femdom but Zephi had him topped (hee hee) with bondage. The rougher stuff he will need to be eased into but he's always open for new experiences

Their kinks are Love and Care and Pants On Hugging

What would be their Valentine's gifts be to each other

A bouquet, some candy and a pack of condoms from Kabal

If they knew what it was, a good dinner and flowers.

Do they get into fights often? If so, what do they fight over and how do they make up?

They're not really in a serious enough relationship to have fights

They don't fight

Which one's top, bottom, verse

Both verses, but when Zephi tops she tops hard

What kinda sex they be having

If Kabal gets to pick, just... regular with a touch of rough. If Zephi gets to pick, he's screaming for mercy by the end

If Colm's ace ass is even in the mood it's lights off shirts on missionary

Who would fight in honor for the other if someone would insult them

Kabal would get mad if someone insulted Zephi, he wouldn't immediately throw hands but he'd be very vocal like hey, apologize to the lady

Don't get Colm angry the guy knows blood magics he doesn't have full control over

Do they want kids

Naaaaah. Kabal has a grown up daughter whom he adores and who's the light of his life, but he doesn't want more nor does Zephi

Yeah and they have a couple!

[sonia7atm]

BRIDGERTON BOOK SERIES REVIEW.

So here it is, before I start I just wanted to say that I’m in no way shape or form an expert in english or literature for that matter. English is my third language and I’m studying science. Having said that, I have read all eight books in less than two weeks and I have a lot of opinions that I wanted to share so here they are. Obviously: SPOILERS AHEAD

The series in its entirety

The bridgerton series is probably the best written series that I have ever read. I loved the fact that it is made up of 8 books, but also the way the books are structured. In each of the books we focus on one of the siblings and their significant others, and even when the side characters are there, they are not really a main focus of the story. This means you can pick up a random Bridgerton book without having read the other ones and you would not feel like you are missing something. I really liked this because it meant that with each book you were getting to know a different sibling, thus you are never really bored and there wasn’t unnecessary drama happening with the already established couples, which is refreshing at the least.

However, it does have setbacks. In some of the books, you find that this side characters really change from the way they appear in the background or the other novels, and it can be difficult to digest at first. Another flaw that I found is with the brothers' books. When I was reading some of the books dedicated to the men of the family sometimes I found that we don’t spend enough time with them and when you finish the books you don’t have an understanding of who they are. Maybe I’m not making sense but I’ll elaborate in each book a little bit more.

But in the end, even these little flaws, I had a great time reading the books and finding out what was happening with the family.

My favourite book - AOFAG

I know some people have trouble ranking the Bridgerton books, especially, the favourite one, but I’m not one of them. I am obsessed with “An offer from a gentleman”, I love the story, I love Sophie, I love Benedith and I love Violet Bridgerton with all of my heart. This book is great from the start, even though b, the third book you know a happy ending is what the book is leading to, it still excites you and makes you wonder. AMAZING DARE I SAY.

Sophie is one of my favourite characters in all of the books. She has a strong morals system and you get really inspired by her. All of the things she goes through are horrible, but she still remains such a calm and kind individual that I cannot help but stan. HARD. She has very strong ideas and morals and she sticks with them even when they mean losing Benedict. I found this message really important and powerful because we usually see the opposite: people changing their views for their significant other, and I don’t think it's right. So, hereby I declare Sophie QUEEN of the Bridgerton clan.

Moving on to Benedict, I heard a little bit of criticism with his actions in this book and I see where they are coming from, but I don’t share them. I think Benedict is one of the brothers that suffers from a really deep female counterpart and as such his thoughts are not fully explored. In my opinion Benedict is tormented by the fact that he is the second Bridgerton and nothing more (similar to Colin and kinda Gregory really), and also by the fact that he lost the woman at the ball. On top of that, Sophie comes along and he starts falling for her and he feels guilty that he is falling for someone else, so he doesn’t fully commit to Sophie but also doesn’t really leave her. It’s a messed up situation and he doesn’t make the best decisions but I understand his actions and I support him. The only thing that really annoyed me about Benedict is that he doesn’t recognize Sophie at all. I wanted to hit him, hard, in the head, with a fucking piano.

Now the best of the best: Violet Bridgerton. She was the surprise character of this book in that prison scene. In the previous book you still see her and like her but she saves the day in this one, and I felt like I really knew her after that. She is not the typical ton mother, she really values their children’s happiness and takes everyone under her wing. She knows who she is and the importance her family has and she uses her powers for good. I gained so much respect for her. A surprise character and a great one.

To sum it up, Benedict and Sophie are perfect to each other, like this mellow entity. Two kind souls, always happy, always calm. Of course they live in the countryside, they could not live anywhere else.

Top tier books - WHWW, RMB, TVWL

WHEN HE WAS WICKED

This book wrecked me, I have to admit I was a mess, I could not deal. A tragic story with so much longing and guilt and despair, I love a drama, man this is great. I went in knowing the basics of it but I was not prepared.

The poor Francesca has the most devastating story in my opinion: she suffers from infertility, her husband dies, she doesn’t feel like she fits in her family, and when she falls in love Michael is sick, WHY?!. Throughout the book you get to see how strong she is, how strong-willed she is. We are not talking about this enough. She loves with all her heart and she suffers with all of it too. She and Michel have a really strong chemistry and it translates really well. I think she was really clever to wait and think before committing to Michael, and I see how she would need to see him in danger to really let herself fall completely. In the end, she knows what losing someone you love feels like and she doesn’t want to feel that again. I understand. Also, an important part of Francesca's journey is to realize that loving someone else doesn’t diminish her feelings for John, and I love how Michael acknowledges it. 

Michael is a really interesting character who falls in love at first sight with the wrong woman. He is fully aware of this fact and it is really good to see that he doesn’t doubt his love for her, but is instead aware of the impossibility of doing something about it. Even when he can do something about it, his respect for his cousin is always present. The guilt he feels for loving Francesca both when John was alive and after he died is so different but so well written. It’s eating him up and It is painful to read to be honest. However, I found that said guilt disappeared rather quickly after his conversation with Colin. I may be the only one but I was a little bit put off by it, and that’s why this is not my favourite book in the series.

THE VISCOUNT WHO LOVED ME 

The bees, I could talk about the bees for days after reading this one. This one has a lot of Bridgerton backstory, and it explains so much of the rest of the bunch even if not directly. So I would say not to skip it (but why would you skip any of them?).

Kate Sheffield is one of the best written characters in this series. She is complex, fierce but delicate, confident but self-conscious. I would kill for her, she deserves it. Her family dynamics are impeccable. You feel the love between these three women and the roles they have, and you get them really quickly: Edwina is the little sister, a little naive but good-hearted, Kate is the fierce older sister and Mary is the compassionate step-mother. I really enjoyed their dynamics. The introduction of Kate’s character is by presenting her goal for the season: defend her sister. When Anthony enters the pool of suitors, she obviously opposes and their back and forth shows she is very witty. But as the story goes on we get to see her insecurities and fears, in a way that it’s so in character but at the same time so different from the start. It’s amazing and I can see why she is such a fan favourite.

Anthony is a baby.We can see how Edmund’s death really scarred him, and those wounds are deep. He believes in his own demise so blindly that it is conditioning all of his decisions.He grows a lot until he is able to share them with Kate and they bond so beautifully over it. Getting to see that, was something that I loved and enjoyed so much. It makes you really connect with both of the characters and it explains so much of his behaviour, that even if he frustrates you, you can’t be mad because you understand where he comes from.

Newton is the guest star in this one and I would like to take our time to appreciate the captain of the Kanthony ship. This little dog is such a plot device, put there to cause havoc and bring Kate and Anthony together, it is so funny. He smelled Anthony and decided he wanted a new dad. Put a plan in march, probably alerted his friend, THE bee.

ROMANCING MR BRIDGERTON

The message of this book is amazing. The journey they both go through to re-know each other is beautiful. Penelope and Colin have known each other for years, and they both have a version of the other in their minds but as the story progresses they unveil hidden personality traits about each others and I love how it is acknowledge and developed into a clear message of “people are flawed and not the perfect individual you wish them to be, and that’s ok”. It is really necessary and it made me reflect on my own relationships and how I could improve them. Colin and Penelope have to be my favourite couple of the series, but, because they were because of the show and not the books, when I finished this book I was left feeling like I wanted more, and that is why it is not my favourite one.

This is the book where readers find out Penelope is Lady Whiseldown and it is a big plot line. However, this revelation is maybe halfway through the book and until then, Penelope's inner monologue doesn’t reveal anything. I would have loved to really focus on it and know from the start how she really did it but at the same time, we get to see so much of Pen’s growth anyways. She is shy and kind but when she is with someone she trusts (in this case Colin and Lady Danbury), she is full of wit and boldness. I see myself so much in these characteristics that I cannot help but make her my favourite character in the series (totally biased but it is what it is). She starts with a sense of discontent about her, she knows her fate and accepts it but, she doesn’t necessarily like it. She is trying to change the way people see her and Lady Danbury helps a lot with it. She and Colin spend a lot of the book kind of on opposite sides in part because of their own demons, she wants to prove herself and at the same time is faced with the realization that the Colin she made up in her mind is not the real one. It really makes you wonder if it’s a happy ending at the end of it, because they both have such strong points but they are so diverse. At the end, after they talk about it, their relationship is full of devotion and you feel how they are making each other focused and better. I would die for them.

Colin is such a tumultuous character and it is a stark contrast on how we get to see him in the previous and following books. He is used to putting the charm on and fooling everybody but, of course, in this book we explore his inner workings and now we know the truth. He is just a lost puppy, looking for something to do with his life, and he is so focused on this search and runnin away for his family that he doesn’t see that there is already something that he is good about: writing. His relationship with Pen is obviously key in all of this searching because it pushes his limits and makes him think. His realization, of both his vocation and his love are slow and steady. He sometimes jumps to conclusions and rushes things *ahem*the proposal*cough* but not love, and once he commits he does it fully. The “stay, stay, stay” scene is a monumental hallmark in the book. We see Colin really deciding and choosing Penelope and Lady Whistle down with all that it entails. And later on, he opens out about his jealousy over her work, but he does it when he is ready, and Pen allows him to come to her when he needs without judgement. They are so perfect it hurts. 

The lack of Eloise is an insult to my soul but we get Lady Danbury as the guest star. She is on Penelope's corner helping her navigate the ton and her relationship with Colin, as a mother figure would. I believe she at least has a big suspicion that she is LW, but I might be wrong.

All-nighter books - OTWTTW, IIHK. ON THE WAY TO THE WEDDING

Gregory’s book is full of twists and turns that you just cannot put it down. Not the fact that the main female character is Lucy and not Hermoine, like Gregory thinks half of the book, just because you don’t. It is pretty clear that Lucy is our heroine so the fact that Gregory falls for her is not a twist itself because we (and Kate) already know. But in my opinion, the fact that it starts with Gregory interrupting the wedding and then it goes back and explains the backstory to you, so it is constantly leading up to it. 

Lucy is not the most interesting of the female leads but it is part of her charm. She is a normal girl, her life is already arranged, so she doesn’t feel the pressure the rest of them do, she is just enjoying herself. She doesn’t believe in love, and it is so funny how in denial she is about it, until it all explodes. 

Gregory’s life was influenced by her brothers before him and his big family but he feels so alone because of the age difference. He is trying to find his place in life and, because he saw all of his siblings fall in love he wants the same thing so badly, that he confuses desire with love. He is so precious, and must be protected at all costs.

The last few chapters are action packed, there’s an urgency in everyone's actions: Lucy, trying to save her family and Gregory, trying to save Lucy. I couldn’t figure out what was going to happen and that hooked me. The fact that the wedding actually takes place is the most shocking plot of all of the books.  

To conclude, Gregory owns my heart and I trust him with it.

IT’S IN HIS KISS

This story is another “all-nighter”, because it revolves around a mystery and the search for Gareth’s grandmother lost jewels. This quest brings Hyacinth and Gareth together, with a lot of Lady Danbury’s help. It’s really interesting to read about the felonies they commit, all of them instigated by Hyacinth, who, in my opinion, is chaos personified. 

Hyacinth is the most forward-thinking woman of this series. She is outspoken, confident, loud and apologetic. All of these traits really set her apart, because she doesn’t play by the rules of society, she does what she pleases, and she should. She is the typical little sister, a little spoiled but with a good heart. Her conversations with Violet are really touching. 

Gareth on the other side, is not in a good place with his family, and it is endearing to see how shocked he is by the Bridgerton’s closeness. He has a severe lack of self love, and sees himself as an imposter, and not worthy of Hyacinth. But when he falls, OMG, HE FALLS. His attitude towards Hyacinth’s personality is amazing because he loves her exactly as she is, and knows he will be following her orders for the rest of his life. Adorable. (He is the “That’s my wife” meme).

Lady Danbury is again the guest star and it only helps to cement her as the cool grandma that we all aspire to be. An honorable mention is Anthony getting super-duper happy that all of his sisters are married and therefore he is free (my poor guy).

However, the main issue I have with this book is that the decision of getting married is really attached to Gareth’s need to vex his father, who is a horrible person, and it makes me mad. 

Not my favourite books - TSPWL, TDAI

TO SIR PHILIP WITH LOVE

In this book Eloise decides running off to meet a possible husband is a great idea. Her brain, I can’t. Obviously the Bridgerton brothers follow her and force the two to marry anyways, although they were already falling in love when they found her. Phillip, Eloise's love interest is a loner and lives outside of the ton and I think that these traits really work with her because they are polar opposites but at the same time they fit so well. The relationship Eloise has with Amanda and Oliver is so cute, because you can see that these kids just need some attention and help navigating the world without her mother and Eloise is there for them.

However, even though I loved their storyline and I wanted to rank this higher I couldn’t. The other Bridgertons are a big part of this book and when I was thinking back on it the parts that I remember fondly the most are when Anthony, Benedict, Colin and Gregory arrive to kill talk to Philip, and then when Charles is ill and we get to see Benedict and Sophie as parents. So, I like this book because of side characters and not the main ones, even though I know there is nothing wrong with them. However, I do think the book is ok and I would recommend it nevertheless.

THE DUQUE AND I

I don’t have much to say about this book. The r*pe is completely unnecessary in my opinion. Daphne and Simon have terrible communication skills, but so do Kate and Anthony, for example, but still, the repercussions are not that severe. It is so much worse in the books and it has no consequences whatsoever. Up until that point, the enemies to secret dating to falling in love is such a classic thorpe that I usually like, but I cannot separate the two of them. In fact, I would advise to skip this one.

Hapily Ever After

Thank you to the heavens for this book. It is just a little exploration of all of the sibling’s future and an extra story for Violete.

Daphne’s story revolves around her last pregnancy. A surprise one when she is quite old. I found it really sweet and it looks like she and Simon are really happy with their life so good for them. Also, Colin and Penelope visit with all of their children so I’m obligated to like it.

The TVWLM continuation is a get together in Aubrey Hall for a Pall Mall rematch. I had so much fun reading it and getting to see all of the Bridgertons interact in a “relaxed” manner.

Sophie and Benedict’s story focuses on Posy and her search for a husband. She is lovely and I do want her happiness but getting to see Sophie and Benedict interact while actually together was a treat. I feel very blessed to see them be the balls of sunshine they both are.

Then we get to see how Eloise found out Lady Whisheldow’s identity. It was fun, and we get to see Pen and Eloise being friends, which we don’t get enough of in their respectives books. Colin and Penelope leaving the wedding early, was a gem. They are a couple of horny idiots and I love to see it. After that, we focus on Eloise again and we get to see a little bit more about Amanda and Oliver.

One of the main things about Francesca in her book is the fact that she wants a baby, and it is never resolved. In this one, we get to see how Francesca and Michael become parents and it's another heartbreaking one. We get to see how worried Violet is for her and also how Michael and Francesca talk and understand each other. They are one of the best relationships on this series, I said what I said.

In IIHK the diamonds are never found, but we find them here. It is great to know they were not missing and also a relief to know that Gareth was able to rescue the family even without them. The fact that Isabella actually finds them and proceeds to say nothing is hilarious. But when Hyacinth finds them the happiness she feels is so wholesome.

Then we get to see Gregory and Lucy’s twins be born (their 8th and 9th children). It is not an easy task and for a moment I was afraid for Lucy but it all works out in the end. It was filled with great moments but the one that I like the most is when Gregory says that Katherine gave him purpose in life, because he was meant to be a dad. I cried ngl.

And lastly, we meet Edmund. He is very present throughout the book but I was not expecting to grow so attached to him with this little story. It is divided in different stages of Violet’s life and obviously we get to see her romance with Edmund. I loved the little details, his behaviour reminded me of Gregory but he eats a lot like Colin so it is great to see where they get their traits from. The later parts, after he dies, show you how much importance Violet puts on remembering him and preserving his memory. They were truly soulmates, and it is such a shame that their time together was cut short.

[dracosearlgreytea]

indelicate marks (16)

indelicate marks: chapter sixteen - the admission

A/N: okay, i know it has been months, but i am back with another chapter! this fic has got a little attention over the weeks and honestly, all i can say is THANK YOU SO MUCH. i love to see people enjoying my work more than anything in the world, and bless you all and your patience for waiting for the next part. i am hoping to post a new chapter within the week! please feel free to drop by my inbox with any questions about the fic! i love you all very much - ivy <3 

warnings: language, very mild descriptions of scars, nsfw implications, punching, a little spicy drama

lovely tags: @h-annahayy @okaydraco @fanficflaneuse @thatoneasrastan @biinspiration @honeymelon22 @bitch-im-a-fangirl @erinisbadger @strawberriesonsummer @accio-rogers @candune @contentobsessor @darinaioana @bbeauttyybbx @letssingintherain

indelicate marks index 

And so the weeks began to slide by more easily. Ignoring the ominous words Draco had offered you that night was easier than trying to decipher them. That, you had more or less figured out in the first week of trying. In fact, ignoring most things that festered away and gave you that constant sick feeling was easier than having to acknowledge them at all. Not bringing them up to the boy you continued to meet more and more also appeared to be easier, and for a while, it stayed exactly that way. Until, that was, he went missing again. You'd agreed to meet at the classroom during your joint free period of the day. With Draco's 'task' growing only further demanding, nightly meetings were much more rare. Instead, you stole your moments with him throughout the day - although, you avoided broom cupboards. This time, his disappearance was much more concerning. Whilst doubt lingered from the last time Draco managed to vanish, you were quite sure that things between you were okay. You hadn't argued. You hadn't even pushed for more information on his involvement with the Deatheaters. By lunch, you knew something was wrong. Shaky, you sat at the end of the Slytherin table. It was summer, and the weather was nice, so most students had opted to go sit outside or take a trip to Hogsmeade, leaving the hall almost empty. What bothered you, however, was that Pansy Parkinson and the rest of Draco's 'gang', were sitting unnaturally quiet a few benches away. Parkinson did look particularly disgruntled, hair a mess and skin a shade paler than usual. You waited for as long as you could stand it, hands twitching as you stared at your plate, food untouched. The thoughts inside your head were loud, and sickening. If something had happened to Draco - did someone find out about his mark? Did Lestrange find him in my thoughts back in Easter? Fuck, Draco, where are you - Parkinson stood, as did the rest of the Slytherin group. Without a second of reluctance, you shot out of your seat. Anxiety clawed at your throat, but you bit it back, calling her name before you could change your mind. "Parkinson!" She paused. Pansy didn't even glance at you the first time, and for a second you thought she was going to ignore you. But, then, she turned, eyes flashing with a concoction of hostility and surprise as they met you. "Uh - Y/L/N?" Her eyebrow arched, scanning you with her renowned glare. Self-conscious washed over you as she did so, but you kept your features steely. "Can I help you?" "I - yeah." You stumbled, inwardly cursing. The group that usually gravitated around her and Draco had paused, putting you on the receiving end of several dangerous stares. Pansy was silent, only watching you with her perpetual, irritated look. "Just wanted to know where Malfoy is - that's all." "Draco?" You noticed the way she froze for a second, before you registered his name on her lips. Quick, you nodded, glancing back at the group, who seemed to be inching back towards you. Heart rate frenzied, you eyed Pansy with what you could only label as a pleading expression. Her eyes narrowed, suspicious. "What the hell do you want with Draco?" Oh, shit. "I gave him my Potions essay for him to copy off." You lied, hoping it came smoother than it sounded. Pansy's face stayed eerily set, almost reminiscent to the way Draco appeared most the time. "I need it back." Pansy was silent, again. "Pansy!" Blaise Zabini yelled from the doorway, shooting you a look as you stared at them. "Hurry up." Pansy didn't even acknowledge him, still scrutinising you. Then, she took a small, but intimidating step forward, setting you with a hard, guarded look. "You're a good liar." She muttered. "But you're behind on school gossip." You stayed silent. You didn't trust yourself not to have a complete breakdown there and then if you opened your mouth. Finally throwing a glance over her shoulder, she returned to look at you in a swift motion. "Potter cornered him in the bathrooms. He's in the hospital wing." No. Teeth grinding together, you stared at her, sharing a look between you. It was an odd feeling, hot, in your chest. The terror of not knowing exactly what had happened to Draco, the rage at Potter, and - and the unusual relief in the understanding of Pansy's eyes. Perhaps it was a skill she had, appearing like she knew everything, every little piece about you. Yet, the glint of recognition in her gaze told you otherwise. Before you could speak, she had turned and strode back towards her group, leaving you alone by the Slytherin table. It took you a second before the realisation of Draco's injury set in. Then, you were launching yourself down the corridors, straight to the hospital wing. "Miss Y/L/N?" Madame Pomfrey called as you rushed in, setting your rather terrified eyes on the professor. You knew her well, by now, after so many visits - you had no reason to shy from her temper. "Draco Malfoy." You said, without a second of hesitance. A bed at the far corner of the hospital wing was cornered off - whatever had happened in the bathrooms clearly wasn't a secret amongst students. How the hell did I miss this? "No visitors." She spoke with a firm tone, setting her eyes on you as you had to take in a breath. "You know I wouldn't come here for just anyone," You murmured, drained. The emotion, and worrying must have shown on your expression, resonating in the way her eyes softened in the slightest. "No visitors, Miss Y/L/N. I can't make exceptions." Stubborn as ever. "Then - I - is he okay?" "Yes." She sighed, lips dragging down in the slightest. "He'll live, dear. Now, please make yourself scarse, before Professor McGonagall thinks you're causing a scene." Madame Pomfrey began to gesture you back to the doorway you had sped through. Yet, before you could bite them back, a last, desperate attempt spilled from your mouth. "Can you at least let him know I tried?" Her lips etched further down in the tiniest. Your heart murmured in disappointment - but, as you were about to give in hope, she gave you a singular, firm nod.   "Fine. Now, out of my hospital wing, girl." The tone of her voice was enough for you to know you had pushed her to her limit. "Thank you." Your reply came as a breath you weren't quite sure was at all audible, soon to make it back out of the hospital wing. Draco was at least getting tended to - and Madame Pomfrey didn't seem too stressed. All good signs that whatever had happened wasn't too drastic, at least. Still, that persistent nausea remained, stubborn. You were definitely not in the mood for a mind numbing lesson of a History of Magic, that was for certain. The Classroom it is. At least if Draco gets out of the hospital wing I'll know if he stopped by to see me. So lost in thought on the way to the classroom, you could have almost missed it. The three famous faces of Hogwarts, huddled together, but speeding towards what you assumed would be the Gryffindor common room. If you'd have been paying more attention, maybe you would have noticed Harry Potter's laboured, terrified breathing, and Hermione's furrowed brow. But they didn't need to have been wearing Gryffindor robes for you to see red. For once, you didn't feel your usual jittering anxiety. You didn't weigh up what your actions would mean, what your reputation would do. Your strides became quicker, poised. Fists curled up, you bared your teeth and let out a yell. "Potter!" He didn't even turn to look at you. No, it was his two bodyguards that spun. Expressions tired, they looked ready to face another barrage of questions from nosy students, only to drop. Hermione's eyes lit up with panic at the sight of you, most likely looking a little deranged. Her lips shifted to say something, but your thoughts were too loud. He hurt Draco. He hurt Draco, and now I'm going to hurt him. Harry turned to face you at the last minute. Bringing back your arm, you swung your fist directly into his face. "Don't you fucking dare touch him again!" Your voice didn't even feel like your own as you glared down at Harry. He stumbled back, Ron quick to his aid and preventing his fall. "Y/N-" "No, Harry Potter, you fucking listen to me." Hissing, you pushed Hermione away from you as she attempted to pull you back, despite Harry's lack of retaliation. "You stay away from me, and you stay away from Draco." Your eyes glinted, taking in every inch of shock across his face. "Or I will do a lot worse than give you a black eye." "Y/N, go." Hermione urged, gaze pressuring and a little dangerous. It was only then that you realised there were a lot more eyes on you than you once noticed. All around the corridor - students of every year, every house. Staring. Whispering. Jaw grinding together, you threw another glare at Harry for good measure. Then, you stepped back, getting away from the corridor before anything could escalate. For once, there were no scalding, angry tears to follow your mistake. There was no pounding heartbeat, or panicked breathing. For once, as you made your way to the classroom, there was only the sting of your knuckles. And, the odd satisfaction of knowing you'd at least done something for Draco. You'd stood up for him, like he'd stood up for you - and whilst, yes, there was also the concern of him being angry at you for doing so - you knew it was all you could try and do. If Draco was going to get himself killed, you'd be there to try and prevent it to any measures necessary. You'd been sat at the window ledge for hours when Draco finally made an appearance. Dusk was setting in, casting the room that warm orange you felt so comfortable within. The moment the door clicked unlocked, your heart jumped, and before you could rush to the door he was already pushing it open, eyes locking with yours instantly. Swallowing, a second of silence settled between you. There was a million words coming to mind, yet they vanished. All you could do was take in the note of his familiar grey-blue gaze. "Evening." Finally, he spoke, twitching a corner of his lip upward as he slipped into the room and locked the door behind him. That. That was all it took. "Draco Lucius Malfoy, you complete and utter idiot-" You'd scrambled to your feet in a second, eyes darting all over his body as you marched towards him and pulled him into a less than gentle embrace. Draco let out a grunt, but then you pulled back again, setting a hand either side of his face. "What the fuck did you do? Merlin, are you alright? I've been fucking worried sick about you all day, I had to speak to Pansy bloody Parkinson just to find out where you are-" Draco's lips cut you off, his own hands coming to rest over yours. Your heart leapt as he did so, and despite his cool skin, you flushed warm. Every little bit of stress dissipated at the action, swiped away by his touch. Pulling back, he prized your hands off of him, although kept them tucked into his. His eyes glimmered with a certain tone of pride - one you hadn't seen him wear often in the last few months. "You gave Potter a black eye." Draco's face pulled into a grin as he spoke, as though he couldn't help himself. Chest fluttering, you realised - Draco was proud of you. "Well - yeah." You felt your own, faint smile play along your lips. "He put you in hospital, Draco. Fuck, are you alright?" Straight back to panicking, you searched him again, the sight of him standing so full in front of you almost thrilling after such a long day. "Can you stop fretting for one second?" He pressed. "No, I cannot! What happened?" Demanding, you set him with a firm look. "You gave Potter a black eye, that's what fucking happened!" Draco exclaimed, eyes alight and wide. "I'm aware. I did do it myself, you know." You sighed, finally accepting that you were not going to find anything out about Draco's injury anytime soon. "You're bloody brilliant." He murmured, kissing you again - this time, a lot more hastily, so much it took you by surprise. You allowed him to wrap his arms around your waist, your own hands grasping at the back of his hair as his lips played atop of yours. Only, for them to travel across your jawline, breath hitching as they did so. "I wish I was there to have seen it." Draco whispered, voice dark, tempting. "Stop sexualising my violence." You muttered, evoking a chuckle from the back of his throat. The sound so close to your ear that it made you shiver, his fingers dug into your waist a little deeper. Still, you pushed the feeling away. "Draco, please tell me what happened." Finally, Draco faltered, an echo of a sigh escaping his lips as he shifted back to take you in. "I don't think you want to know." Heart stumbling, you swallowed, eyes dropping to where your hands splayed over his shoulders. "Trust me." Your eyes flickered back to his. Gradual hesitation was breaking through his previous, much more playful gaze. "I want to know." A silence settled between you. Endless amounts of tension managed to fill the small space between your features. It was the type of tension that already made your heart clench in your chest, the type that made you not want to breath. Draco's expression had fallen, a mixture of withdrawal and unexpected dread - one he would usually try so hard to cover.  It was unnerving, seeing someone usually so hardened, so steely, dropping back into the terrified boy you only caught glimpses of before.   And, eventually, he spoke. "He knows." Your breath caught in the back of your throat. "He saw - saw the mark, when I went to visit Myrtle. Shot some spell I've never heard at me." Draco, once avoiding your glossy eyes, finally met them again. "Nearly killed me." Merlin, his tone was something you'd never even attempted to imagine, coming from Draco. Both haunted, yet accepting, as though he was comfortable with his own fear - and it terrified you, deep into your core. In any other situation, you would have noticed your own terror. The idea of Draco dying, without you having even known - it was unthinkable. He was everything you had, everything you'd ever wanted or needed after a life spent within your own head. If he died - But you didn't. No. For once, it was only anger. Draco's expression was only a spark to a fire pit built many years ago. Built the day you stepped inside Hogwarts, brimming with hopes and dreams, only to be met with rejection.   It took a moment for you to realise that Draco was still watching you, uncertain, brow furrowed in concern. For you. Not him, not the one who had almost died only a few hours ago. And so, you let out a careful breath, holding his face in your hands as though it was the most precious thing to exist. "I won't let that happen." You murmured, meeting his complex grey faze with a fierce one. Swallowing, Draco watched you a moment longer, as though trying to read the intensity of your words. "I know." His brow jolted in as he spoke, as though he were wounded to say it. There was an underlying tone to your admission, one you both appeared to ignore. But then, Draco pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, squeezing your waist tight in his grip. The movement brushed away the tension before you could even attempt to hold onto it. It left you feeling a little unhinged, blinking. "I'm alive, though." Draco reassured, catching your eye once again. "Madame Pomfrey fixed me up quite nicely." A soft chuckle left you as he spoke, breaking through the stiffness of your features. "Really?" You raised an eyebrow, teasing. "Any battle scars?" His lips twitched, gaze warm. "You're just trying to get me undressed." Shaking his head, you laughed again, watching as Draco shifted away from you to tug his shirt upward. There was a slight stutter in your chest as he did so, a sudden childish nervousness at the exposure of skin. But, as your eyes swept across the healed, rugged lines across his chest, it faded. Leaving you instead, with both a tinge of worry - and, a slight desire. Draco, however, seemed to note your expression. He didn't allow his shirt to fall back down till your eyes met again, except this time, they were a little darkened. "Like what you see?" A smug smirk plastered his features, but you only rolled your eyes. "Cocky as always, Malfoy." You teased, unable to stop yourself from smiling as he pulled you in closer again. Pressing short kisses to your jaw, he earnt a sharp intake of breath from you. "I never denied that." The mood, somehow, managed to stay warm for the rest of the evening. Settled on the window sill, soaking in Draco's presence and rare good mood - your anxieties faded. His arms were so tight around you, soft lips finding your skin, over and over. It was as though you were dreaming. The anger, however - the anger never quite left. You weren't quite sure if you wanted it to, either.

[headcanonthings]

Zukka + moonspirit!Sokka

So I love to write fics but I’m horrible at committing and finishing them out but here’s a rough outline/headcanon for prince zuko and moonspirit Sokka (this is gonna be long sorry)

To start Hakoda is chief of the Northern water tribe which obvs means that Sokka and Katara as well as Kya and Bato are all NWT (Kanna ran away from sexist Pakku and the southern tribe)

Aang is instead from the the Northern Air temple but still runs away and gets caught in a storm and freezes into an iceberg

The Northen Water Tribe gets attacked as the next expected place for the Avatar but thanks to the spirit oasis they’re a little more protected and are able to mostly withstand the numerous attacks; they still lose people but are not on the brink and still maintain a few waterbenders and Kya doesn’t die

Maybe a fire bender gets past their defenses and she gets burned idk but since there’s still water benders she’s healed up and lives (let the water tribe family be happy)

Sokka basically gets Yue’s backstory so that he can become moonspirit blessed

The war and fire nation all tracks with the show up (Sozin starts it, Iroh loses Lu Ten, Azulon order’s Zuko’s death and Ursa leaves, Ozai takes over) until Zuko’s Agni Kai

Iroh’s basically going through the motions after Lu Ten’s death, his depression made worse with the loss of his father and he pretty much doesn’t care that his birthright has been usurped by his little bro because he’d give it all up, live as the poorest person on earth, as long as it meant he had his son back

BUT THEN OZAI CHALLENGES HIS THIRTEEN YEAR OLD CHILD TO A SPIRITS DAMNED AGNI KAI

Iroh starts off with giving his brother the benefit of the doubt, like he knows the guys isn’t the greatest father but he’s not gonna HURT his kid right? Wrong. So the second Ozai cups his son’s face and Iroh sees the flames he snaps out of it and jumps into action

He literally jumps into the ring and pushes Ozai away, challenges him on the spot for the throne and Ozai might be the Fire Lord but Iroh is the MOTHER FUCKEN DRAGON OF THE WEST and kicks the guys ass

Ozai is thrown into the royal prison (and probably has some large burns because his brother can breathe fire??? And Iroh maybe vindictively made sure to burn the hand he hurt Zuko with so that everytime Ozai sees it he’ll remember why he’s there)

Zuko still has his scar but thanks to Iroh’s intervention it’s a little lighter, his sight and hearing on that sides a little fucked, and the outline of a handprint a little easier to discern but instead of the all encompassing shame and anger and pain when Zuko looks at his scar he’s reminded of how much his Uncle loves him and what he did to protect him (thinks of how much his mom loves him and probably Lu Ten because you can’t convince me that Iroh’s kid wasn’t like the best cousin ever)

He’s still a little self conscious of it because come on it’s a giant face scar from his father and he’s a teenager but it’s not as bad as in the show

Newly crowned Fire Lord Iroh declares the war over and since the 94 year or whatever war isn’t that catchy and Iroh wants it to be acknowledged that it was the fire nations fault it starts to be referred to as Sozin’s War

So fast forward three/four years and the world is slowly moving towards peace Fire Lord Iroh is hosting a small delegation of the leaders of the different nations to really start ironing out official peace treaties which means Hakoda and Fam come down from the North Pole and everyone finally meets!

BONUS

Lu Ten was a non-bender so became super skilled at a number of diff weapons and fighting styles

Zuko is understandablely freaked out by fire bending for awhile after the whole facing his father in a fire duel thing — Iroh remembers how Zuko seemed to like watching Lu Ten practice his swordsman skills so he calls on his good friend Master Piandao

Piandao takes one look at this little traumatized boy and goes ‘Bitch let’s get you some sword therapy’ and hands Zuko his first set of dao swords and during their training while Zuko’s too focused on getting his forms right he doesn’t realize that they’re not talking about swords anymore and instead he tells him about the Agni Kai and his scar and how he’s scared of his own fire

Piandao is the first person Zuko ever tells about how the Agni Kai wasn’t the first time his father hurt him; he’s also the first non family person Zuko’s ever cried in front of and gotten a hug from

Hakoda and Bato never leave to fight but make regular weeks long trips out to keep the defenses up so there’s still some worry that he won’t come back; Sokka’s not allowed to come along because his parents are a little over protective because of how he was born and only alive because the moonspirit blessed him but they still let him do some warrior training after Sokka convinced them about needing to know how to protect himself as son of the chief plus how kya was hurt

“If they got in once they can do it again!”

Sokka and Katara sneak out one day because they feel the need to make sure the Fire Navy is really retreating and they end up in some SiblingFight TM and Katara might have some people to help train her water bending but she’s still a teen girl and when she gets worked up her control kind of gets iffy and she ends up cracking a giant iceberg and FINDS A WEIRD BOY

A WEIRD BOY WHO TURNS OUT TO BE THE LAST AIRBENDER AND THE AVATAR

with Fire Lord Iroh declaring the war over and everyone slowly starting to believe him there’s no rush to get Aang powered up so instead the Water Tribe Sibs take him home and focus on figuring out what happened to Aang and giving him a history lesson in a more relaxed manner

They still take him to the air temple which is hard but Aang won’t believe them about the war until he sees proof and well the Fire Navy is gone and there is no angsty teen hunting him

Hakoda more or less adopts the kid while Aang hangs around the north pole to train and become BFFs with Sokka and Katara

Toph gets tired of her overprotective parents and runs away after she hears them wailing about marriage prospects or something; she finds her way to Omashu where some weird old crazy guy finds her and he says he’s king which is kind of confusing but whatever he gives her a place to stay, doesn’t expect her to act like a lady or treat her like a porcelain doll, he’s kind of funny and is a freaking amazing earth bender (almost as good as her)

Aang comes with Hakoda as part of his fam for the Peace Summit while Toph accompanies Bumi as part of the Earth Kingdom delegation and so the Gaang comes together while the adults fix shit like they should

Zukka specific

Iroh and Zuko greet all the delegations personally so Zuko’s first sight of Sokka is in full Water Tribe regalia and he thinks the white haired boy is the prettiest person he’s ever seen in his life

Sokka has pretty much the same reaction seeing the Prince of The Fire Nation (he feels a little bad about it because it’s only been like three years since the war ended and a lot of people still view the Fire nation as the enemy)

Sokka can’t sleep one night, he’s a bit of a night owl because of his connection, so he’s wandering around about trying to find an open quiet spot so that he can talk to the moon (the spirit saved him so he likes to talk to it like it’s his friend) when he catches Zuko practicing his dao

Zuko has nightmares and going through his dao forms relaxes him along with spending time at his precious turtleduck pond

Sokka is full on smitten after that (there’s nothing more attractive than a boy competently handling two swords)

Sokka asks Zuko to show him how to use his swords

There’s shy flirting between the two and good natured teasing from the others

Mai and Ty Lee come up with little schemes to get Zuko and Sokka alone which clash with the schemes Aang and Katara come up with

Toph choas goddess she is bounces between the two groups throwing out comments that she’s knows will cause the two different schemes to clash

[lilyhoshikawa]

🎥🎶💕🏳‍🌈💎 for hunters perhaps? >:3c

Oh golly! Ok fndkfnfn let me do this then. This may be difficult-

🎥: Do you have any favorite scenes from your hyperfixation?

This is hard bc I have a lot of scenes I like and good scenes keep happening dhdjfn.

There are a lot of stand-outs so far. Among them is definitely like, the confrontation in the car between Blake and Sakio, and the recent social link scene with Blake and Lena on the boat.

Scenes that DON’T involve my own character that I adore include. The scene with Sakio and Camellia at the graveyard. The scene with with Lena and Twitch outside the store. The Sammy’s scene where they read Tango’s letter. Also the scene with Sammy and Masumi bc it was just extremely funny.

🎶: If your hyperfixation has songs / an OST, what is your favorite song from it?

Hm. Well time once again to advertise my Blake playlist, which I’m constantly putting a lot of work and thought into tbh dhjddb, I’ve deleted a fair number of songs from it when I feel they don’t fit, and I’m constantly messing with the order of the songs in relation to Blake’s prospective characters arc, and adding more as I find them fndkfnf I’m always on the lookout.

Also, vane is constantly updating the official playlist with some real bangers, and I appreciate that. Amil’s and Twitch’s themes are real good.

💕: Tell us about one of your favorite characters and why you like them!

Everybody has really really good characters, heck. One thing that strikes me is that even with taking the backseat and having to be on autopilot for several sessions, Camellia still has such a strong and distinct personality, to the point where everyone is on the same page abt them, and I think that’s just really amazing dhdjfjf, that’s how strong an impression they make every time they’re around.

Lena is also so good, she’s like… I think abt her frequently. Sometimes I just start giggling when I think abt Lena, bc she is a national treasure, and I hope she knows I care abt her. She’s great in this way that she’s both very funny/cute and also has a lot of depth and nuance to her arc, and I’m so excited for more.

In the same vein, Sammy. No one character has made me go from giggling to sobbing as fast as this green goat. One moment Sammy is making their cat do a little greeting and I’m rolling on the floor from the cuteness, and then the next second they’re crying and saying they don’t want to be left behind, and then I am also crying. How do they do it. The absolute range.

I also really appreciate Ilse like, particularly in contrast to Blake sometimes, in that Ilse is very smart in a way that’s quiet, self-conscious and careful, while Blake is at times recklessly arrogant, and those two bounce off each other well. Ilse feels mature at times but every time they quietly like, try to be the bigger person, or to not make a problem of themselves, I wanna give them a hug and be like “u deserve to be recognized and acknowledged and u deserve better” dhdjdndjdn. When u have big personalities like Sakio and Lena and Blake in the party there’s something compelling abt Ilse being with them and not asserting themselves as they try to do their best, if that makes sense, and I want them to know I see and appreciate them.

Sakio is also so good and I’ve talked abt this to vane plenty before but holy shit. There’s so much obvious care and love and effort and skill that went into writing a character who is both wrong in many ways, and who many player characters antagonize for good reason, and yet still so incredibly sympathetic, so likable and so compelling. The fact that both Blake and Lena have this relationship with Sakio where they don’t like or trust her, necessarily, but also can’t deal with her not being there, is so fucking good, it creates such powerful conflict in the smallest of ways. Sakio is great bc I love her and I understand her and I appreciate her, but I also wanna yell at her and think she is absolutely horribly wrong about incredibly crucial things and u can FEEL that turmoil in her as well, with her knowing on some level that her actions are going to cause harm, and she’s just waiting and hoping to take the fall, thinking, maybe foolishly, that she can, and that doing so will save everyone else.

I also fucking love so many minor characters we haven’t seen much of so far. I absolutely love Bee and I’ve told vane abt this but she’s just a total icon. Theo is also great, he is the only valid he/him in the entire campaign djdkfj. I love Twitch as well and I’m very excited for some of the interesting stuff in Twitch’s arc that has been hinted at coming to fruition later on, that’s very exciting. I’m also very excited to learn more abt Amil’s whole deal, I appreciate them a lot and I feel bad every time I have to make Blake come pester them fndkfnf. Oh also Prim, how did I forget Prim… what’s going on with her, I have no idea, but she’s a mean lady and my love for mean ladies is well-documented. Also her look is iconic. Also also Puck, the fact that he’s a child and I didn’t know it for several months shocked me to my core but it has made his brand of Shakespearean mischief that much more endearing, and now I seek only to give him snacks and let him sit in his funny garbage throne. I forgot abt Puck earlier so I’ll say he is the second valid he/him in the campaign but frankly I think Puck should take some neopronouns for a spin, he deserves it.

🏳️‍🌈: Do you have any headcanons (LGBT, race, neuro, etc.) that are important to you?

(*throws neurological disorders at Blake*) jdkdnfkf no but jokes aside. I love that this party is like, 5 player characters, 4 of whom use they/them. Just. The raw power of a persona series written by LGBT+ ppl…

I can’t speak on other ppl’s characters too much but as for Blake, they’re a closeted transfem and also too much of a disaster for a coherent sexuality but probably bi. Autistic, and an abuse survivor who experiences paranoid delusions and self-destructive tendencies. Probably more, but specifics are messy, they’re a fucking mess, what’s going on with them, they don’t even know.

Masumi is a binary trans lesbian, also an abuse survivor and manages quite a bit of paranoia of her own, dealing with mood swings and occasional delusions of grandeur, most of it she keeps internally managed which isn’t great for her mental health.

💎: Are there any fun facts or trivia that you would like to share?

Blake’s original characterization was thought up prior to the campaign and was very different from their finished characterization. They lived on a farm with their parents and were pretty quiet and passive before being arrested for a murder they didn’t commit (this part is the same) and their personality was way more quiet, reserved and passive, with the whole celebrity aspect completely absent. They were still going to be the sort of clever leader type character but leaned far more into the background. Their design was also different, with their hair in a low ponytail rather than high and scars on their face from scrapes and accidents working on the farm.

I realized that, even though this character was more of an original idea than Masumi (who I was playing in another campaign at the time and who was characterized somewhat differently as well) I didn’t find myself excited to write them, couldn’t get invested in them in the same way, and as I kept workshopping them I decided to be more self-indulgent and lean more into shamelessly making them an Akechi expy in more ways.

And what resulted from that, ironically, is what I feel is a better character in the end. Blake feels more dynamic, lively and interesting now than the old iteration I first thought up, back when I was intent on making them My Own Creation with their own arc. At this point I’m comfortable saying that Blake, for all their similarities to Akechi, has evolved over the course of the campaign into a more interesting character, into someone I recognize as distinctly different and who stands out. They feel unique to me, and feel like my own character. And I think that only could’ve happened through playing them in a TTRPG like this, in developing them along with others, and having to adapt, and I think that’s the beautiful thing about developing characters with other people. The Blake I’ve ended up with is one I’m really happy with, who I feel is more interesting and dynamic to me than if I had just tried to force something unique just to not feel cringe about making an expy. And maybe I need to learn that lesson before I go through the same thing with Zee fjdkfnf.

[violet-amet]

jotting down something related to cancer and myself. something ive taken from a website somewhere, that may or may not be valid, but hits a lot of marks from what ive dealt with recently. here we go.

((With your treatment completed, you'll likely see your cancer care team less often. Though you, your friends and your family are all eager to return to a more normal life, it can be scary to leave the protective cocoon of doctors and nurses who supported you through treatment.

Everything you're feeling right now is normal for cancer survivors. Recovering from cancer treatment isn't just about your body — it's also about healing your mind.

Take time to acknowledge the fear, grief and loneliness you're feeling right now. Then take steps to understand why you feel these emotions and what you can do about them. -- taken from Mayo Clinic.))

My last chemotherapy session was around May 2018, so I’ll hit that third year mark very soon, which means I’m halfway through recovering. In a sense, I’m not a survivor yet, unless I hit that five year mark, but between now and then, I’m trying to adjust to a certain sense of normality that I’ve never felt before. In short, I’m a little uncertain, and very scared, of what could happen in the future to me.

((Stress in cancer survivors

When you were diagnosed with cancer, you might have focused completely on your treatment and getting healthy. Now that you've completed treatment, all those projects around the house and the things on your to-do list are competing for your attention. This can make you feel stressed and overwhelmed.

Don't feel you need to do everything at once. Take time for yourself as you establish a new daily routine. Try exercising, talking with other cancer survivors and taking time for activities you enjoy.

Depression and anxiety in cancer survivors

Lingering feelings of sadness and anger can interfere with your daily life. For many people these feelings will dissipate. But for others, these feelings can develop into depression.

Tell your doctor about your feelings. If needed, you can be referred to someone who can help you through talk therapy, medication or both. Early diagnosis and prompt treatment are keys to successfully overcoming depression.

Self-consciousness in cancer survivors

If surgery or other treatment changed your appearance, you might feel self-conscious about your body.

Changes in skin color, weight gain or loss, the loss of a limb, or the placement of an ostomy might make you feel like you'd rather stay home, away from other people. You might withdraw from friends and family. And self-consciousness can strain your relationship with your partner if you don't feel worthy of love or affection.

Take time to grieve. But also learn to focus on the ways cancer has made you a stronger person and realize that you're more than the scars that cancer has left behind. When you're more confident about your appearance, others will feel more comfortable around you.

Loneliness in cancer survivors

You might feel as if others can't understand what you've been through, which makes it hard to relate to other people and can lead to loneliness. Friends and family might be unsure of how to help you, and some people may even be afraid of you because you've had cancer.

Don't deal with loneliness on your own. Consider joining a support group with other cancer survivors who are having the same emotions you are. Contact your local chapter of the American Cancer Society for more information. Or try an online message board for cancer survivors, such as the American Cancer Society's Cancer Survivors Network.))

A lot of these hit the mark pretty close to me, which makes things difficult to manage, but I know I’m not alone.

But sometimes, I can’t help but feel that way.

All in all, I think taking my time to come to terms with what happened to me is the only thing I can do, while managing everything else in between, from finally getting support on finding a job to figuring myself out over time. I mean, the tumor was basically in my uterus, which is what killed it, so that definitely affected my identity and thoughts on my own gender. But, regardless, I’m still me, yknow? Nothing can change that.

Well, not entirely. I think, in a way, I see myself non-binary, but still prefer to use she/her pronouns, because I don’t want to erase something I’ve been embracing for a good portion of my life, which is my womanhood. I don’t have a uterus, but that doesn’t mean I’m any less than a woman, but the traumatic event really shook me up enough to have second thoughts, yknow? At the end of the day, I can only figure that out for myself.

Anyway, I’m getting off point. I just want to say, while I’m sure I’ll get better, the trauma is still difficult to deal with. And while I’m still scared of things, like a relapse or perhaps the disease spreading, given it’s sarcoma related, I pray, and want to work hard, on getting better more ways than one.

Thinking back on it, I remember what a doctor of mine told me, who was a Czech Republican, that if I continue thinking negative thoughts, I’ll only feel worse, and won’t recover well, which is what gave me the strength to power through those negative thoughts. He also mention that fear is a natural reaction, and it can help the body fight as well, but it’s also important to think positive and work on that, because I’ll heal better that way. I got to say, it was definitely helpful, and I don’t want to forget him and the others that worked on my case.

God, I’ve been through a lot, but I’m trying to sort out my feelings somehow, as I’m slowly but surely adjusting to the changes around me. It’s hard, but it’s not impossible.(But my depression will slow me down. Ugh.)

[ladylunasolis]

Zutara Week 2020 - Day 2 “Counterpart”

Thought I would take this a different route (and barely made it to post before the day is over in my time! pls forgive any errors lol).  My first modern/college AU for Zutara.

You can also read this on AO3 :)

Rating: G

Zuko shifted his stool forward, and adjusted the easel his canvas was on.  Blank white stared back at him.  Today, they would be having new live models coming in to start their final project for the quarter - and the best ones would be displayed at the university student art show.  They were working on portraits, different styles of painting one, and would have to submit a piece in their own style.  Whatever Zuko lacked in expressing emotion verbally, he always did his best to show it in his art.

One of the things that did challenge him about portraits specifically was working with other people and being responsible to get their feeling across.  Not one to back down from a challenge, Zuko had definitely worked hard and took extra practice to get a bit more comfortable.

He was feeling pretty confident to start this painting.  And then the new models walked in.

One lanky young man with wild hair strolled languidly to the side of the classroom as the curious whispers of the class continued on.  Zuko noted his eyebrows were in a shape he had never seen before, and it would probably be interesting to get them just right.  Next, a girl with chin-length brown hair and a pretty smile walked in talking to the last model.

If that first girl was pretty to Zuko, this last girl was stunning.  She had beautiful chestnut hair in gentle waves, golden skin, and surprisingly blue eyes to die for.  Zuko cleared his throat and scooted again to hide his face, an unexpected shyness hitting him.

Katara noticed him with the cough and shuffle behind the canvas.  She caught a golden eye surrounded by light pink peering at her before ducking back to start prep on what materials to use.  Gold?  She had never seen such a hue before.  Curiosity flit through her mind as she slipped her bag off and prepped to sit for this session.

Suki had told her about a way to get some extra credit for their shared class, and she had sat for a few photographers in the past so she didn’t mind helping out.  She hardly knew the guy with them, Jet, but he was nice enough.  He was definitely a smooth talker and had tried to kiss her once when they went out with Suki and other mutual friends, but he was only a fun distraction.

Bad boys were definitely a type she’s had, but Katara couldn’t help but wonder about the shy guy shielding himself from her.

Some time had passed and the professor went up to Zuko, regarding his art with an amused expression Katara could see.  “Zuko, you realize there are three people modeling, correct?”

Zuko’s face heated up and he took a moment to still himself and make his voice as steady as possible.  “Yeah, I’m just starting off with her since she’s closest to me.”  Zuko wanted the ground to swallow him whole, as quickly and inconspicuously as possible.  He looked up to the models once more and found the blue-eyed girl watching him, a small smile on her lips.

Zuko.  Katara had never heard that name before and despite that, she thought it would feel nice on her tongue.  She felt a bit self-conscious for a moment after realizing he was focused on her, and so she straightened up and shifted her shawl down a touch to show a little more bare shoulder.  She was flattered at his attention and Katara had always been a kind person.  She figured she could do a small kindness to be an interesting model, and help Zuko get a good grade.  The skill was all up to him but in a way, she felt like his partner in this project.

The class was coming to and end and she replaced the tank top strap back where it should be, and skirt over the workout shorts she had on for the class.  Zuko was completely hidden while gathering his own things and Katara was going to say hi to him until Suki grabbed her by the elbow.

“Sokka, Aang, and Toph are at White Lotus for happy hour!  They have shots waiting for us.”

“I think I-.”

“Uh-uh, I don’t wanna hear it, Katara.  We deserve it!”  Suki shot her a toothy grin which Katara always had a hard time being stern with.  She shot one last glance at Zuko who had his back to them, before letting herself get dragged out with a laugh.

Behind her retreating form, Zuko was packing his things when he heard her name.  A secret smile formed on his lips and he chuckled.  “Katara, huh?”  Beautiful.

The project continued on, as each class was only an hour long.  Zuko wasn’t so taken aback anymore and was able to keep his wits about him each time he saw Katara.  She always sat closest to him and it got to the point where she would give a smile to greet him, and he would return a small nod in return.  Katara was appreciative of the fact Zuko finally let himself show his whole face from behind the canvas.  It would have been a shame if she never had a chance to really see it — a light pink scar running on one side of his face and despite that he was still one of the most beautiful men she had ever seen.

On this day Katara’s ears piqued as the professor neared Zuko’s form.  Zuko had taken to standing up, and was close to the canvas, brush moving slowly.  The professor hummed and Zuko only turned to acknowledge him for a moment.  “Zuko this piece…there’s more feeling behind it than I’ve seen so far this quarter.”

Blue met gold for a split second and Zuko straightened up.  “Well, I guess you could say I was inspired.”

Ever the curious girl, those words triggered an even bigger desire to see this Zuko’s work.  That’s it, I’m talking to him today.  No matter what Suki has planned!  

And so Katara didn’t even wait to be fully dressed in her street clothes before going up to Zuko, zipping up her light jacket.  He startled when she greeted him.  “Hey!  Uh, how’s it going?”

How’s it going?  Really, Katara?  You have more game than that.  She resisted the urge to roll her eyes.  But then again, I really don’t even know him as much as I know the back of his easel.

“Oh uh, hey,” Zuko scooted the easel to face the wall and neared her one a few short movements.  He shot her a lopsided smile.  Katara noted the brightness of his eyes.  “It’s going pretty good.  What about you?”  His movements didn’t go unnoticed and she aimed a pointed look at his easel before returning her eyes to him.

“Good,” she replied with a smile, tucking her hair behind her ears before offering her hand in a handshake.  “I’m Katara, the girl - or I guess - one of the girls you’ve been painting.”

Zuko took her hand and Katara noticed how warm his was.  It was also much more smooth than she thought it would be.  A little calloused and dry paint to the touch, but smooth.  “Hah yeah, nice to meet you.  I’m Zuko.”  He ran his other hand through his hair absentmindedly and got a spot of blue in his locks.  Katara giggled and pointed it out.

“You got a little…”  His eyes widened, then he looked down at his hand and rolled his eyes.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, grabbing a cloth to wipe himself, small blush on his face.  “You would think I would be used to it by now after painting for so long.”

“Well don’t worry, I think blue actually kinda suits you,” Katara quipped.  The ghost of another smile passed over his lips before she continued on.  “From what your professor said it sounds like your painting’s going well!  I’ve been so curious to see it…”

Katara took a step towards the easel, and Zuko stepped in front of her with his hands up, sheepish grin on his face.  “Sorry, it’s practically done but I kinda have this thing about my subjects seeing a work in progress…”

“Oh, like bad luck or something?” she asked, lifting an eyebrow and crossing her arms, smirking up at him.  Boy, he was definitely taller than her.  And she couldn’t place the scent, but he smelled good even with a paint apron on.  Zuko thought a moment and shook his head, deliberately picking each word to answer.

“I want to keep my subject’s emotions as genuine and authentic as possible.  I’m still learning all this too, but in the past when I’ve had to practice, sometimes a person starts to think they should sit a certain way or have their face be a certain way.  But the thing I’m really starting to like about portraits is capturing who they really are in those moments, the small moments they let their guard down and let me into their world.  It’s my job to interpret that onto canvas.”  Zuko paused as Katara remained silent and laughed.  “That’s the first time I’ve said that out loud before.  Seems a little more weird than it sounded it my head.”

Katara shook her head.  “No, I don’t think it’s weird at all.  When you put it like that, it does make sense.  Every artist has their way of doing things, right?  So this is your thing.  I can respect that.”  She gave him a smile, softer this time, before turning away.  “I guess I just wish I could see it somehow when it’s done.”

Zuko hesitated as she began to talk to Suki, who had been talking to his classmate Ty Lee.  He just finally spoken to Katara and is that how he was going to leave it?  She was almost out of the classroom when he called out to her.

“Katara!”

The sound of a new voice calling her name made her turn quicker, to see Zuko making his way over to her and Suki.  Her friend shot her a look and actually took the cue to give her a little bit of space — though still listening intently.

“Thursday is the last day we’ll be doing this project, and after that we’ll be submitting to a panel.  If my work does get picked, how about we go to the art show together so I can tell you all about it.”  Katara noted it was as if Zuko had decided on something in the few moments between their conversation and now.  Even the last words he said weren’t really a question, more so a request.  She felt a flutter in her chest as she nodded.

“Yeah, that sounds like a plan.”  And Zuko’s smile widened.

A little over a week later, she arrived at the show to meet Zuko, who had been there early to set up.  Suki had bombarded her with questions about that black haired hottie after she made sure they exchanged numbers.  During the last session, Katara did her best to keep in mind what Zuko had said.  She just let herself be and stopped worrying.  She even exchanged a few smiles with the boy behind the canvas, a few jokes after class.

Not long after she sent the “I’m here” text, she heard him call her name.  I could get really get used to that.  “Hey, I’m glad you made it!”

“Of course, I wasn’t going to miss this!”  She really meant it and he gave her a lopsided grin, guiding her along with a hand barely brushing her back.  “I’ve been way too curious.”

“I’m sure you have been,” he replied, nervous once more.  He had never revealed his art to someone like this before and he wasn’t sure how it was going to go.  He brought her to a wall set up with the light focusing on the singular canvas displayed in this section.  “Here it is.”

Katara’s lips parted as her mouth dropped.  Suki and Jet were painted on the right and left sides of the canvas, respectively, and there she was in the middle and larger than the other two.  They were all full body in the frame but her’s was definitely the center.  Brilliant blues of all different shades surrounded all of them and it was almost as if they were windswept, or perhaps underwater would be the best way to describe it with how her hair floated around her.  She looked ethereal, she was glowing, she was happy, she was…Katara didn’t even know she could look like this.

Zuko stood next to her, waiting with bated breath.  Katara looked up at him almost speechless.  “How did you…get all of that from me just sitting there?”

Zuko shrugged and looked up at his painting.  “I guess…that’s just how I saw you.  That’s how you looked in my eyes.”

“Zuko, it’s…it’s beautiful.  It’s really lovely, and I don’t know much about art but everyone is so well done,” she managed to get out, finally coming down from her surprise.  Zuko looked down at her at his side and smirked.

“I couldn’t have done it without you to inspire me.”  Katara and blushed and mumbled something of gratitude and Zuko couldn’t help but think about how adorable she looked.  “So, what questions do you have?”

Thank you for reading!