#And growing up in the ruins of the first world war but still not living through it
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lizpottersworld · 24 days ago
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. ۫ ꣑ৎ . EVERYWHERE, EVERYTHING (james potter x reader)
summary: even as ruin runs wild around the wizarding world, nothing can stop the love between you and james even if it be death do us part.
pairings: james potter x reader, wolfstar, dad!james potter, mum!reader.
warnings: death, Voldemort, unfortunate sad ending, angst with no comfort, no happy ending, crying children (help)
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to be loved by someone as loud and passionate as james potter was every girl’s wish. he always knew how to please, how to care and how to love. to be loved is to be seen and heard and he listened intently, observing every little thing you do. plus, when james potter is in love, boy does he fall hard. especially when it’s by someone as soft and sweet as you, a sweetheart who takes pride in him and gives him the affection he craves.
no doubt when everything around him is falling apart he clings to the one thing he can’t live without, which he would protect with his whole lifeline. when his friend group was falling apart, you arms was where he went. after his parents passed and he couldn’t hold himself together anymore, it was you he ran to.
it was the same goes the other way, if anything happened to you, minor or major he was where you spend those fearful nights and terrorising mornings. if home was a person, they were without a question at home when with each other.
even after a complicated beginning, where james had been whole heartedly chasing someone else, at the seeing of you he immediately changed his mind. as soon as you came into the view, you was all he thought about since.
your friends had called you hopeless, oblivious and caught up in your book ideals but nothing could stop the two of you. giggling and crying as you snuck into each other’s rooms at night, no spell being able to stop that. being intertwined to each other’s sides, glued forever without any care or discourse about it. stuck to your lover’s hip for all eternity? okay, didn’t want to be apart anyways.
even as the class of ‘78 graduated, you both hadn’t even thought about breaking up. in turn the two of you bought a flat in london near your other friends who were also rooming together as partners, remus and sirius who you both knittedly were close with from first year. no matter there petty arguments and disagreements, you and james could never say that ever was a problem with you two.
call them young or naive but even at 20, you already had your whole future planned out. a happy family in a house with white picketed fences, raising a new generation of potter’s. supportive parents who would grow old in the house that they lived they’re best life’s in, that would eventually pass together happily and peacefully.
at the raw age of 22, you had unexpectedly fell pregnant by accident but fatefully. soon after, you and james’ were engaged and as you neared nine months the two of you eloped. maybe everything was rushed, but why waste precious time! especially with the raging war happening with Voldemort. time truly was delicate in their case, with james being an auror for the order. praying most nights with your growing bump that he would make it home that night. thankfully, he always did.
then you gave birth to your first daughter, ivory potter, in the warmth and love of your cottage in scotland. many tears shed and sweat fallen, you and james happily welcomed your beautiful firstborn with open arms. ivory lived her first two years with loving parents and humorous uncles who spoiled her rotten.
you had then fell pregnant again, in times of scarce and fear as the war was spiralling and Voldemort had been closing in on the two of you. despite your lack of involvement in the death eaters, they still despised the idea of the prophecy child that had been told to you in divination during seventh year. no matter how much you two and james ignored it, the reality of it had been becoming more aware.
Dumbledore and the order moved you into a secret safe house temporarily as they tried to defeat voldermort. no inside or outer contact, just your little family trying to make the best of the situation. a year had passed since living in this house, you had given birth to your son, harry potter, who was now the youngest in the household. everything became unserious at the amount of time since nothing had happened, you weren’t always living on the edge. secretively having contact with some friends from Hogwarts.
perhaps thats how the word of your son had come out, the supposed prophecy child to have been born. you didn’t think it was possible that your friend’s could have told the death eaters about it, even now it felt like no one in that group even seemed the little bit guilty of it.
every day came pathetically repetitive, being closed off from the rest of the world. from family and from being able to actually see your friends in person who hadn’t even meet harry apart from photos. despite the alluring idea of sneaking to visit them all, nothing was worth the risk of your children. nothing amounted to that protection.
you and james were still blissfully in love, raising your beautiful children with gentleness and grace that you were sure carried throughout their ways. little angels who knew nothing but that.
it was the 31st of October 1981, and even though the kid’s couldn’t join in on the muggle trick or treating tradition like all the other’s in the neighbourhood they still dressed up. ivory dressed up as a young witch with a big grin and her homemade broom, harry dressed up as a golden snitch which was solely because of james’ contribution to costumes this year.
the sun had set and the kid’s were put to sleep in their respective rooms, leaving you and a breathless james dancing around the living room with wine glasses in hand, so obliviously unaware. wrapped up in the other in a unspoken adoration that carried the room.
there was a knock on the door and james went to the door expecting another trick or treater, leaving his wand that coordinated his costume on the sofa.
“oh hi pete!” he chirped, a grin on his face as he inspected the fear and something unfamiliar on his face that he couldn’t place. peter repeatedly mumbled apologies shaking his head as a green apparition happened behind him.
james smile fell instantly, yelling desperately to his wife, “y/n, he’s here, go upstairs and stay with the kids!” you dropped the wine glass passing a look with james as you ran up the stairs, wiping a tear with a nod as you hear him for the last time, “i love you, forever my love, keep them safe.” immediately you panicked running to grab ivory from her bed and bring her into the nursery of her brother’s as you soothed their cries and wiped their tears hearing their father groaning and shouting downstairs.
one final scream and a green light shook through the house and you sobbed in pain as you held on tight to your kids, aware of the ticking time you had. ivory held onto her brother protectively as you whispered to them, “listen, mummy and daddy love you both so much,” you cried, “never forget that, okay? we love you, we’ll always be here,” you yearn begging for this all to be a dream.
as he appears in the doorway you stand up in front of the two kids in the crib, “leave them alone!” you yell as he comically laughs at your misery knowing your disarmed. his sinister smile sickened you as he caressed your face with his wand, your tears falling achingly down your cheeks.
“your pathetic husband is dead,” he snarled, peering at the crying babies behind you as you followed his gaze protectively. “and soon will the rest of your little family,” he grinned, “murderered and forgotten.” you shake your head profusely.
“you can take my life, but you won’t get any closer to my children then you are now.” you growled, his smile morphing into something angry and furious. he chanted avada kedavra and the light fell from your eyes, nothing but the framed picture of your family on the wall in front of you left in your memory.
the cries and sobs of the kids echoed through the house as voldermort scowled at them, whilst ivory held her brother close to her, “mama!” she cried, tears streaming down her face onto her brother’s at their proximity.
he threw the curse at them which rebounded onto himself as he yelled and disappeared into thin air, leaving two scarred young children who had nothing but their parent’s distant memory. and the love and protection that saved them from the ending that their parents suffered. the oldest daughter comforting her younger brother as she innocently made grabby hands at his mother’s unconscious body.
“its otay haz, i’ve got you now,” ivory sniffled as the two dozed into their own sleep, hopelessly waiting for someone to realise and come and get them.
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farthest-harbor · 4 days ago
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Hey, I heard you have Nick Valentine HCs?
I really like to hear them! 😄
It can be anything, just go ahead. What is the first one, which comes into your mind?
I love you for asking, thank you!
Here are a few:
All the patches on is coat he mended himself. It's one of the ways he fills the lonely hours when everyone else is sleeping, It's something human Nick never learned to do, but our Nick taught himself after his first few scuffles in the post-war world.
His metal hand doesn't have any sense of touch. I think his skin is probably full of minute wires that function as nerves, so when he lost the skin on his hand, he lost feeling in it. Now he has to rely on his vision to confirm that his hand is moving the way he wants it to. It took him a long time to get used to but he's mastered it now.
He doesn't like to take off his hat around strangers. I think he's a little self-conscious about the fact that he can't grow any hair. I think human Nick had a full head of hair and synth Nick can't help but compare himself. He'll take his hat off in the agency around Ellie, or around Sole if they get close with him, but if anyone he's not close with steps in the room, the hat goes back on.
He totally wears suspenders under that trench coat. 'Nuff said.
I think he carries around a small repair kit in his coat with a couple small tools and some spare wire/screws/bolts/electrical tape but it's only enough for minor temporary repairs. He uses this kit for quick patch jobs when he gets hurt on a case, just to hold him over till ge hets back home and can do a full repair.
He's an excellent dancer. Human Nick went dancing pretty often and synth Nick inherited some of that "muscle" memory. He's got rhythm and an elegant, sophisticated style. He's a little rusty at it, though, because he doesn't go out dancing on his own, and he's got no partner to practice with. Perhaps sole could take him out to the Third Rail sometime so he can show off his skills...
He's been subtly trying to get Ellie and Travis together for years. He thinks they'd be sweet together, and has encouraged Ellie to talk to Travis a few times. Nothing ever seems to come of it, but Nick hasn't given up yet.
You know his file cabinets are a hot mess. It drives Ellie nuts when he puts files back out of order, since she always tries to rearrange them alphabetically. When she brings it up to him, he just shrugs and smiles and tells her that he put it back in the correct year, so it's no big deal.
Obviously, he doesn't need to shower or bathe, and doing so would probably ruin all his processors. If he gets dusty/dirty on a job, he'll wipe his face and hands down with a wet rag when he gets home.
While the cigarettes do nothing for him chemically or physically, the ritual of lighting one and smoking it brings him comfort when he's stressed. An old habit from human Nick. It does leave a slight sooty residue on some of his internal parts and probably clogs a few fans/vents, but he just patiently cleans them with a rag during his repairs sessions. It's worth it to him for the comfort of smoking.
Although he's friendly to Piper, he doesn't actually like her that much. He thinks her newspaper is pretty disreputable, more spreading rumors than actual news, and her inflammatory articles about synths and the Institute have drastically escalated the hostility he's faced living in Diamond City. Still, he empathizes with Piper and the fears people have about synths, so he keeps his mouth shut. She still gets on his nerves sometimes, though.
I have so many more, but I'll stop here for now. I am quite thoroughly obsessed with this guy, so if anyone wants to hear more hcs about him, or hcs about some specific aspect of his character, my asks are always open. I could talk about this guy for hours.
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eugenedebs1920 · 2 months ago
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You know!? It ticks me off this perception that Donald Trump, J.D. (Jerkin Dicks)Vance, even Musk, is somehow manly. I mean, Trump and Ol Jerkin D wear more makeup than my wife! You can’t say that’s all just for television. Musk looks like if Smeagal had only kept the ring for 250 years as opposed to 500. His Prrreeeccciooouussss. None of those guys project masculinity. It’s the varsity cricket team and their weird gangly friend.
Does anyone remember when Trump tried to act like he knew how to use a shovel 🤣🤣🤣 That sh*t cracked me up!! Like ‘MFer, where have you seen someone attempt to shovel like that!?’
Then J. Dick Vance projects uncertainty in his sexual identity. It cool if your gay, but don’t fight being gay so much that you are viscous to women and marginalize those who’ve figured out who they are and are not overcompensating for it. it’s coo Jerkin D! We’ll still hate you either way.
I’m pretty sure Musk is a supervillain. But like if Dollar General had a comic book action figure series.. He’d be the main villain in that. Corneal Creepy McBillions, somethin like that.
These guys definitely got picked on in grade school and vowed to get revenge by making everyone else miserable. Thanks bullies! 😑
Speaking of. If you haven’t constantly put people down, talk sh*t on people, (I realize the irony as I’m sh*t talking these f*cks but, physically I don’t think any of them could take me, but power wise, what they could have done to me!! They’d ruin my world..) pinpoint and pick on a vulnerable individual or group, pretty much, if you get hard by making people laugh at or join in on teasing or bullying someone, that itself reeks of insecurity. It shows the flaws in yourself, you’re hiding by putting those flaws onto others before someone sees them in you. Trump is the master of that! If he accuses someone of something, he’s definitely guilty of it.
It doesn’t make you any less of a man to be kind. It’s isn’t a feminine to treat women with respect. It doesn’t make you macho to be a prick. Being racist and ostracizing immigrants doesn’t protrude masculine traits.
You know what women find sexy. Confidence. Knowing who you are, what your values are, compassion, knowing the difference between proper and improper, and sticking to those principles regardless what others would say or entice you to do. Being a good person, because that the good thing to do, proud of oneself, but knowing there’s always room to grow and learn.
I certainly don’t see what’s would constitute being attractive when you are borderline in a cult, infatuate with a 80 year old politician who bankrupted casinos, been accused by 23 women and adjudicated for sexual assault, shameless grifter, hateful, cruel, racist, bully f*ck. It’s just, sorry to say it, weird.
I have a heart and care for people, I build houses for a living. I believe in equality and the rights for EVERYONE, I can rebuild an engine. I think women are people (who knew!?) and should be in control of their own destiny, I am pro 2nd amendment and love to go shooting.
I’ve been in bar brawls, climbed mountains, go hunting, chop wood, ride atv’s, snowboard, go 4wheelin, camping, have a big beard, drink beer, and I think everyone is entitled to dignity, despite their sexual preference, race, religion, gender, what their hair looks like, whatever. Why? Because it’s basic human respect.
The last 2 times America actually won a war it was Democratic (BIG D 😉) administrations. The only 2 presidential administrations to not add to the deficit in the last, nearly 60 years, were both big D Democratic administrations. Democrats passed the Civil Rights Act, all the racist Dixiecrats jumped ship and became Republican. Democrats nominated and elected the first African American president. We have TWICE nominated a woman at the top of the ticket.
While Republicans are whining about having to wear a mask LIKE EVERYBODY ELSE DID, Democrats passed legislation to address the problem of unemployment, of vaccinations, of shipping logistics, while they were at it passed a HUGE infrastructure package, invested billions in green energy (our future) and ensured national security by manufacturing the technology materials needed to be the best in the world. Simultaneously creating a ton of well paying, respectable middle class jobs.
The right is too busy talking about Jewish space lasers, and checking out Hunter Biden’s junk, and keeping weed illegal, and worrying about bathrooms and sh*t.
How is that manly at all?! Acting like a bunch of whiny immature kids! They even whine when they win!! It’s stupid! It’s a waste of time, money and energy. Just grow up and do the job you’re elected to do!
So yea… I would say the right isn’t the vision of manhood they pretend they are. It’s overgrown children, spoiled to the core, acting out because they want it their way 😤
What shows manliness is doing your job, and doing it to the best of your ability. Being a kindhearted person and willing to help someone in need. Being true to yourself, and in turn others. Being knowledgeable yet willing to learn. Being brave, but admitting when you’re scared.
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shelter-maki0 · 1 year ago
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I have finally finished my series of fanfic art! I originally tried my hand at fanfic novel in order to these draw arts. (I like drawing)This was a personal activity I undertook for myself. It was my first experience writing a novel, and I made a lot of mistakes.
Since we're on the subject, let me introduce to the contents of my wrote fic.
This fic utilizes the Time-Turner from The Cursed Child, and it's about a 40-year-old Harry who is sent back to the 1940s in an accident. Harry will be working as a DADA professor at Hogwarts.
Harry shouldn't change the past. Just like the lesson demonstrated in Cursed Child. Harry's looks for a way back to the future, watching over Myrtle's death and Tom's misdeeds in order not to change the future. And I added another idea to it.
Harry's soul wants to let Tom's soul back inside, which he has held for many years. It's an impulse that happens regardless of Harry's will, and they're attracted to each other against their will.
The idea was inspired by Harry's realization in Cursed Child that he is still mentally trapped by Voldemort. What if he was not only trapped in spirit, but also in soul? I thought that idea very hot. (The fact that Harry was still mentally trapped by Voldemort as an adult drove me crazy🥵)
Harry watches over Tom's misdeeds, but in the process, Harry and Tom form a bond that's hard to separate. It was a bond that transcended the attraction between souls.
However Harry loves his family and friends, so he faces many conflicts. Tom&Harry grow up with each other's struggles and problems, The two fall in love. This is also the story of Tom discovering what love is.
Tom in this fic is not a psychopath. Tom grows spiritually in this story, but in the end, Harry erases his memories of that growth.
It's because the future must not be changed, as Harry did in of Cursed Child. That's like Harry watched his own parents die. So, in order to turn Tom into Voldemort, Harry erases the changes he made to Tom and returns to the future.
When Harry erases his memory of love and himself from Tom and returns to future, he finds the same peaceful world. It is the correct timeline in which Voldemort was defeated.
Harry is relieved that he has returned to the correct time without changing the future. But one thing in that world had changed drastically.
It was Harry's family. Harry had to pay the price for the crime of arrogance in selfishly erasing Tom's memory.
The details are described in the novel, but ultimately Harry's love destroys Voldemort. But that love also allowed Voldemort to live. Naturally, the history of many people dying in wars has not changed. They would be tied through a bloody history.
Harry despairs of modern times where he has lost his original family and is married to Voldemort. Harry ruined his life. Furthermore, other people's fates that Harry has moved in the past will befall him as karma.
But Tom is very happy✨and the magical world is probably at peace.
The story ends with Harry laughing hysterically as he realizes that a part of Tom's soul has returned in his own soul.
Happy ending? Probably :(
I understand that Cursed Child is a controversial work. But I love Harry in that work. (I like him with his problems) And it's filled with a very tasty setting from a tomarrymort point of view.
If you know any fic on tomarrymort of in Cursed Child timeline, please contact me. I couldn't find one, so I had to make my own🥲
This whole fic was written to be ridiculous and romantic, fun story tone. And it's sooo long😩
As you can see, I'm not very good at writing English. So I don't plan to translate it, but I would be happy if you enjoyed these artworks alone.
Thanks looking for my art :)
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iloveboysinred · 6 months ago
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No love lost [Firelord Zuko]
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synopsis- Too soon after the war ended, you and Zuko became leaders of your respective nations. You struggle not to think about the political repercussions your secret romance could bring.
cw- zuko x gn watertribe chief! Reader, slight angst to comfort (nothing too heavy), forbidden romance, feelings are all over the place, not a lot of editing, fluff
2k words
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Anxiety sent jitters up your spine, the chilly balcony under your fingertips providing little to no help in easing your nerves. Below you stood the entirety of the Northern Water tribe, looking up at you with scrutinizing eyes. It was now you felt the weight of what your new status as Chief would bring, especially the mounting pressure to live up to the legacy of your sister princess Yue, who had sacrificed herself to become the moonspirit after the sudden assault from the fire navy. The attack had almost left your home in ruins, and it prompted you to join team avatar in their efforts to take down firelord Ozai. Despite leaving for a good cause, your disappearance had left a bad taste in a lot of the water tribe elder’s mouths, especially when news of the then disgraced Prince–now Firelord Zuko, joining your group had traveled throughout the nations. Many had accused you of treason, protests erupting amongst the tribe as soon as your father announced your return and ascent to the throne. 
Now you stood before your people, wearing your traditional colors and furs, pledging your life to the tribe as its new leader. Your friends stood beside you, silently supporting you as you went through the ceremony, offering hushed words of encouragement and reassuring shoulder squeezes. You were glad they were here to support you, especially Zuko– who was visibly uncomfortable, his heavy red robes making him stand out like a sore thumb. It was impossible to miss him, the cold stares of the citizens following his every move. It made you feel queasy having him here, close enough to catch his eye but never close enough for him to speak to you. You had developed somewhat of a knack to know when Zuko had something on his mind, and the way his gaze kept following your movements whenever he could, was evidence enough for you to avoid him as much as possible.
When you first met Zuko, you were wary of him, understandably so. The memory of Fire navy soldiers invading your home fortress was still too fresh in your mind. Kitara had told you of how he had kidnapped Aang when he was still in the spirit world, attempting to sneak him into the clutches of his father and it had only made you resent him more. You ignored his attempts to prove himself, and rejected the idea of forging a friendship with him. All you could see when you looked at him were the atrocities committed by his homeland. 
 While the days progressed though, you had started to grow a little fond of him. As he acclimated to the group, Zuko had revealed more and more about himself, and it was the first time you had actually seen him as more than a spoiled prince. You began to see him for who he was; a broken child with a bleeding heart, wanting nothing but the love and acceptance of his father. Prince Zuko was a bashful, awkward teenager just like everyone else. Still, it was hard for you to push the apprehension you felt to the back of your mind at first, especially when you were still living in the reality that his forefathers had created.
Seeing the rest of the team embrace Zuko as a friend, it didn't take long for you to embrace him too— but it was different between the two of you then it was for everyone else. Zuko understood your turmoil, he knew what you felt when you explained how you had always been in your sister’s shadow, he held you close to his body when you wept to him about your mother, your tribe, and your upcoming role as chief. He was as warm as the sun, reassuring you that everything would be alright. That he was here. It was clear to everyone in the group that you and Zuko’s relationship had long transcended the bounds of friendship. They had noticed the way you inched closer together during supper time, your knees constantly brushing together as you sat. Even Sokka had pointed out the way his eyes softened with adoration whenever he spoke of you. There was always an air of comfort and warmth between the two of you that nobody could deny. He was your complete opposite, but his warmth drew you into him, and two days before confronting Firelord Ozai, you couldn’t resist the pull anymore. You gave in, allowing yourself to press your lips against his. You could feel his heart beat thrumming in tandem with yours, his lips pressing back into you so desperately it felt as though you were waiting your entire life time for this moment. It was a second of quiet. Nothing else mattered in that moment, the worries about war, the stress of returning home all faded away into obscurity. 
You allowed yourself to dream–to imagine for just that second, a life where you could be together. A different reality in where you could give your all to him, to embrace him without political repercussions and scrutiny. But just as quickly as it started, you pulled away. He looked at you then. His eyes swimming with admiration, a question burning him from the inside out that you couldn't bring yourself to answer. You’d turned away from him at that moment, returning to your camp without speaking another word to him. 
Zuko had always been persistent though, and shortly after Aang had claimed his victory against Ozai, he came to find you sitting alone in his quarters. He sat beside you, the bed dipping under his weight, but you said nothing. Silently staring down at your hands, you avoided his gaze. too afraid to lose against your better judgment if you faced him. “Can you…can you look at me?” he always spoke to you so softly, his raspy voice making your skin warm with goosebumps. You felt him falter after he noticed you still refused to look at him, his bandaged chest aching as he dropped his hands into his lap, staring hard into the red carpet beneath your feet. The silence between the two of you was suffocating, filled with unresolved feelings and questions. You fiddled with your fingers, thinking over the words you wanted to say, and how to get them out into the air. It was a lot easier to think when he wasn’t right next to you. When you didn’t have to fight the urge to pull him close. 
“Look..what happened that night, i-” he cut himself off when you stood up abruptly, your eyes downcast, still not bringing yourself to meet his eyes. “Don’t. Please, don’t.” you whispered, your arms hugging your chest as you tried to keep your emotions at bay. “y/n..please, i don’t want to just pretend like..like that kiss meant nothing! I have feelings for you, I don't know how else I can show you that I'm good now, I've changed! You can trust me, I'll turn everything my father did around, I promise!” You turned to him, tears burning behind your eyes, but you forced them back. You had to be strong, for yourself, for your nation, and for the peace you and your friends had worked so tirelessly for. “Is..is that what you think this is about?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “I know you’re good, Zuko.. you– you’re amazing, and noble and kind” you felt the tears rise up along your waterline and you wiped them away, sniffling as you forced your shaking voice to continue. “Which is why this–” you motioned between the two of you “This..can’t happen. Your nation needs you, and my nation needs me.. everything is so fragile right now, we can’t risk another conflict between the nations, not over something so stupid.” you looked away from the flash of hurt that flitted through his eyes. Instead you looked down at your feet, steeling your resolve. “I’m sorry Zuko.. but I have to put my nation first. And you should too.” Zuko said nothing, watching you leave without looking back. 
That was the last time you’d truly spoken. Defeating Ozai was only the beginning of the end for this war, and after Zuko’s coronation as Firelord it became apparent just how large of a responsibility was on his shoulders. You’d only caught glimpses of him during his ceremony, and saw even less of him during your stay in his palace with his advisors roping him into long meetings with diplomats, his attention constantly stolen away by long documents he’d have to carefully read word by word. Your own responsibilities had stolen you away as well, leaving you no leisure time to join your friends in their bi-monthly escapades to the fire nation. 
Now after your ceremony had ended, you stood alone on your balcony, the moonlight washing you in a gentle glow. You gazed up into the sky, silently hoping your sister could see you now, bittersweet emotion gripping your heart. You didn’t have to look at him to know Zuko was silently standing next to you, the warmth radiating from him in contrast to the frigid air that surrounded you was more than enough to make you aware of his presence. You closed your eyes when his hands held on to the icey balcony. The two of you stood in tense silence, neither one of you courageous enough to say something. It was only when you turned to him that you willed yourself to speak. “Cold night, tonight huh?” you muttered, sheepishly kicking the snow around with the tip of your foot, trying to distract yourself from the fact that he was here. His hair had grown from the shabby mess he had when you first met. In the year you’d been apart, his soft features from adolescence were slowly hardening into one of an adult. You felt your heart pound when he said nothing, staring off into the distance as if he was distracted, his hair was down from its traditional top knot, his crown sat off a few inches next to him. Zuko still looked like the boy you had met what felt like years ago. But he was more regal now, and he carried himself with the exact poise and grace you’d expect from someone of his status. Still, when he spoke, his voice still carried the rasp it always had, and he still spoke to you in the same soft tone he reserved for you. 
“Did…did you really mean what you said that day?” you felt your mouth dry, already knowing where this conversation was going to go. “Yes, Zuko.. I'm the chief of the northern water tribe, and you're the firelord. We have no time to be sneaking around like stupid teenagers–” “Do you really think what we had was stupid?” he looked at you now, his golden eyes catching the soft illumination from the moon. You didn’t know what to say, your words catching in your throat. dropping your shoulders, you returned to the balcony, staring up at the moon for comfort. 
“No, Zuko. It wasn’t. I have feelings for you, feelings I can't have. Don’t you understand? Our nations– the world is still recovering from war, a forbidden romance is the last thing we need. If it gets out that we’re sneaking around, then we could start another conflict between our nations and i…i can’t subject my people to that, not when we’ve been wanting peace for the last hundred years.” you gripped the balcony tight, your stomach knotted up with pent up emotion. Zuko stared at you, mulling over what he wanted to say next. You felt the silence settle once more between you, and you almost wanted to take your leave, but his words stopped you in your tracks.  “It doesn’t have to be that way. We can form a deeper alliance. The Northern watertribe would receive fire nation support and trade, and the fire nation would receive the Northern watertribe’s trade in supplies and support, we can.. we can be together and not have to worry about conflict.” he was pleading now, grasping your hand with his as he looked into your eyes imploringly. “But, the fire nation has no use for water tribe supplies..” you muttered, your hand limp in his grasp. He squeezed your palm in his, and you allowed yourself to feel the familiar warmth soak through your glove, feeling your resolve starting to chip away more and more the longer the contact sustained. 
“Then we’ll make a market for it, i’ll make it work, we just have to try.” he pleaded, pressing your hands to his chest. You stared at him, at a loss for words, feeling his warmth draw you in the same way it did months ago. “Please, y/n. I-i want you to be in my life. I don’t want to hide what I feel for you anymore.” his heart was beating fast and steady against your palm, anticipation clear on his face as he waited for your answer. “But, what if.what if it doesn’t work, Zuko? I can’t just risk everything like this–” “Then I'll give everything I have to fix it. Just trust me.” you closed your eyes, nodding at his words. “Okay. I trust you.” you felt your cheek pressed against the hard plain of his chest, his warmth enveloping you as he wrapped his arms around you tight. “Thank you..i promise i'll make it work– i’ll write a draft as soon as i return home, i’ll court you properly, i-” you interrupted him with a soft kiss over his heart. “Shhh..let’s worry about that when you get home, let me just enjoy you for a few moments.” you whispered, looking up at him through your lashes. The moon seemed much brighter now, you could see his entire face under the glow, his golden gaze pooling with affection as he met your gaze. He leaned down, ghosting his lips over yours as if asking for permission, he was holding his breath, shoulders tensed as if anticipating your rejection.  Without a second thought you pressed your lips to his, melting into him as you let your heart soar. You were no longer afraid to dream, because before you stood the man who would make all of them come true.  
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froidefille · 19 days ago
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Day 30: fic on your TBR that you’re most excited to read
📚 Go up to Gilead by anonymous
Draco/Harry, 107k, E
Written for: H/D Erised 2024 @hderised
Summary:
Harry Potter’s sense of purpose drops dead with Voldemort. So does Draco Malfoy’s freedom. Nine years later, Harry’s still a soldier. Draco’s still a sacrifice. Harry’s going to die in his Auror uniform, and Draco doesn’t deserve to live. But when the clock runs out on Draco’s sentence, a new one starts ticking. As it was, so it will be: they’ll survive together, or not at all.
Just looking at the summary and the tags, I know it’s going to ruin me. Can’t wait :D
📚 Dwelling by aideomai
Draco/Harry, 83k, T
Summary:
Curses, James and Lily Potter ride again, several Ministry balls, a teenage Summer of Love, a grim young adult dystopian winter, a few different Draco Malfoys, secrets and the problems re: not having any, alternate lives, impossible lives, real lives, allusions to Dirty Dancing, and just because it's not called the Mirror of Erised doesn't mean you shouldn't know better.
After devouring Far From The Tree, I can’t wait to read everything aideomai has ever written
📚 The Pain From an Old Wound  by anonymous
Draco/Harry, 30k, T
Written for: H/D Erised 2024
Summary:
Getting hit with a mysterious blood curse is all in a day’s work for Harry Potter. Having to work with his former colleague, rival, bully, and boyfriend, is not. Harry’s not sure which is going to do him in first: the curse sucking his magic dry, or Draco Malfoy, as frustrating, condescending, and painfully attractive as he’s always been.
Exes to lovers! Curse breakers!! Case fic!!!
📚 Mirror, Me by @kamaela
Draco/Harry, 18k, E
Written for: H/D Tarot Fest @hd-tarot
Summary:
Harry’s current predicament is, he can admit, rather dire. Being caught stalking aside, he thinks his nose might be broken. Humiliation licks up his rigid spine, but along with it is a prickle of ill-advised anticipation, a foolish thrill at what Malfoy might do. Harry is a little lost. His house is rejecting him and his friends and family are busy and moving on. To cope, he turns to what’s tried and true; following Draco Malfoy. The first time was an accident. Sort of.
This sounds like my favourite post-war Harry, lost in the world, with Draco somehow always in his way ^^
Honorable mention
Guys, I have 16 pages of „marked to read” works. 113 opened AO3 tabs.  And a full ‘to read” tag on my tumblr. With all those fantastic fests going on, those numbers only keep growing. So just a quick shoutout to all the creators – THANK YOU for sharing your works and time and effort with us and making our days better!! <3
And of course huge thanks to @hprecfest mods for this prompt!
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book--brackets · 6 months ago
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Simon Snow by Rainbow Rowell (2015-2021)
Simon Snow is the worst chosen one who’s ever been chosen.
That’s what his roommate, Baz, says. And Baz might be evil and a vampire and a complete git, but he’s probably right.
Half the time, Simon can’t even make his wand work, and the other half, he sets something on fire. His mentor’s avoiding him, his girlfriend broke up with him, and there’s a magic-eating monster running around wearing Simon’s face. Baz would be having a field day with all this, if he were here—it’s their last year at the Watford School of Magicks, and Simon’s infuriating nemesis didn’t even bother to show up.
Carry On is a ghost story, a love story, a mystery and a melodrama. It has just as much kissing and talking as you’d expect from a Rainbow Rowell story—but far, far more monsters.
Gentleman Bastard by Scott Lynch (2006-present)
An orphan's life is harsh — and often short — in the island city of Camorr, built on the ruins of a mysterious alien race. But born with a quick wit and a gift for thieving, Locke Lamora has dodged both death and slavery, only to fall into the hands of an eyeless priest known as Chains — a man who is neither blind nor a priest.
A con artist of extraordinary talent, Chains passes his skills on to his carefully selected "family" of orphans — a group known as the Gentlemen Bastards. Under his tutelage, Locke grows to lead the Bastards, delightedly pulling off one outrageous confidence game after another. Soon he is infamous as the Thorn of Camorr, and no wealthy noble is safe from his sting.
Passing themselves off as petty thieves, the brilliant Locke and his tightly knit band of light-fingered brothers have fooled even the criminal underworld's most feared ruler, Capa Barsavi. But there is someone in the shadows more powerful — and more ambitious — than Locke has yet imagined.
Known as the Gray King, he is slowly killing Capa Barsavi's most trusted men — and using Locke as a pawn in his plot to take control of Camorr's underworld. With a bloody coup under way threatening to destroy everyone and everything that holds meaning in his mercenary life, Locke vows to beat the Gray King at his own brutal game — or die trying...
Piranesi by Susanna Clarke (2020)
Piranesi's house is no ordinary building: its rooms are infinite, its corridors endless, its walls are lined with thousands upon thousands of statues, each one different from all the others. Within the labyrinth of halls an ocean is imprisoned; waves thunder up staircases, rooms are flooded in an instant. But Piranesi is not afraid; he understands the tides as he understands the pattern of the labyrinth itself. He lives to explore the house. 
There is one other person in the house--a man called The Other, who visits Piranesi twice a week and asks for help with research into A Great and Secret Knowledge. But as Piranesi explores, evidence emerges of another person, and a terrible truth begins to unravel, revealing a world beyond the one Piranesi has always known.
The Broken Earth Trilogy by N. K. Jemisin (2015-2017)
This is the way the world ends. . .for the last time.
It starts with the great red rift across the heart of the world's sole continent, spewing ash that blots out the sun. It starts with death, with a murdered son and a missing daughter. It starts with betrayal, and long dormant wounds rising up to fester. 
This is the Stillness, a land long familiar with catastrophe, where the power of the earth is wielded as a weapon. And where there is no mercy.
A Monster Calls by Patrick Ness (2011)
Conor has the same dream every night, ever since his mother first fell ill, ever since she started the treatments that don't quite seem to be working. But tonight is different. Tonight, when he wakes, there's a visitor at his window. It's ancient, elemental, a force of nature. And it wants the most dangerous thing of all from Conor. It wants the truth.
Patrick Ness takes the final idea of the late, award-winning writer Siobhan Dowd and weaves an extraordinary and heartbreaking tale of mischief, healing and above all, the courage it takes to survive.
The Sandman by Neil Gaiman (1990-2003)
In PRELUDES & NOCTURNES, an occultist attempting to capture Death to bargain for eternal life traps her younger brother Dream instead. After his 70 year imprisonment and eventual escape, Dream, also known as Morpheus, goes on a quest for his lost objects of power. On his arduous journey Morpheus encounters Lucifer, John Constantine, and an all-powerful madman.
The Poppy War by R. F. Kuang (2018-2020)
When Rin aced the Keju—the Empire-wide test to find the most talented youth to learn at the Academies—it was a shock to everyone: to the test officials, who couldn’t believe a war orphan from Rooster Province could pass without cheating; to Rin’s guardians, who believed they’d finally be able to marry her off and further their criminal enterprise; and to Rin herself, who realized she was finally free of the servitude and despair that had made up her daily existence. That she got into Sinegard—the most elite military school in Nikan—was even more surprising.
But surprises aren’t always good.
Because being a dark-skinned peasant girl from the south is not an easy thing at Sinegard. Targeted from the outset by rival classmates for her color, poverty, and gender, Rin discovers she possesses a lethal, unearthly power—an aptitude for the nearly-mythical art of shamanism. Exploring the depths of her gift with the help of a seemingly insane teacher and psychoactive substances, Rin learns that gods long thought dead are very much alive—and that mastering control over those powers could mean more than just surviving school.
For while the Nikara Empire is at peace, the Federation of Mugen still lurks across a narrow sea. The militarily advanced Federation occupied Nikan for decades after the First Poppy War, and only barely lost the continent in the Second. And while most of the people are complacent to go about their lives, a few are aware that a Third Poppy War is just a spark away . . .
Rin’s shamanic powers may be the only way to save her people. But as she finds out more about the god that has chosen her, the vengeful Phoenix, she fears that winning the war may cost her humanity . . . and that it may already be too late.
Villains by V. E. Schwab (2013-present)
Victor and Eli started out as college roommates—brilliant, arrogant, lonely boys who recognized the same sharpness and ambition in each other. In their senior year, a shared research interest in adrenaline, near-death experiences, and seemingly supernatural events reveals an intriguing possibility: that under the right conditions, someone could develop extraordinary abilities. But when their thesis moves from the academic to the experimental, things go horribly wrong.
Ten years later, Victor breaks out of prison, determined to catch up to his old friend (now foe), aided by a young girl whose reserved nature obscures a stunning ability. Meanwhile, Eli is on a mission to eradicate every other super-powered person that he can find—aside from his sidekick, an enigmatic woman with an unbreakable will. Armed with terrible power on both sides, driven by the memory of betrayal and loss, the archnemeses have set a course for revenge—but who will be left alive at the end?
Uprooted by Naomi Novik (2015)
Agnieszka loves her valley home, her quiet village, the forests and the bright shining river. But the corrupted Wood stands on the border, full of malevolent power, and its shadow lies over her life.
Her people rely on the cold, driven wizard known only as the Dragon to keep its powers at bay. But he demands a terrible price for his help: one young woman handed over to serve him for ten years, a fate almost as terrible as falling to the Wood.
The next choosing is fast approaching, and Agnieszka is afraid. She knows—everyone knows—that the Dragon will take Kasia: beautiful, graceful, brave Kasia, all the things Agnieszka isn’t, and her dearest friend in the world. And there is no way to save her.
But Agnieszka fears the wrong things. For when the Dragon comes, it is not Kasia he will choose.
Legacy of Orisha by Tomi Adeyemi (2018-2024)
They killed my mother. They took our magic. They tried to bury us. Now we rise. Zélie Adebola remembers when the soil of Orïsha hummed with magic. Burners ignited flames, Tiders beckoned waves, and Zélie's Reaper mother summoned forth souls. But everything changed the night magic disappeared. Under the orders of a ruthless king, maji were killed, leaving Zélie without a mother and her people without hope. Now Zélie has one chance to bring back magic and strike against the monarchy. With the help of a rogue princess, Zélie must outwit and outrun the crown prince, who is hell-bent on eradicating magic for good. Danger lurks in Orïsha, where snow leoponaires prowl and vengeful spirits wait in the waters. Yet the greatest danger may be Zélie herself as she struggles to control her powers -and her growing feelings for an enemy.
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rafayelsbelovedbride · 30 days ago
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Dragons and scapegoats
I made a post a while ago comparing Philos/Earth/Lemuria to Omelas here. And now that Sylus has his myths too, let me continue.
Special thanks to @ourlittleuluru for giving me more reason to talk about him. I was just going to reblog it with your tags but it got too long. So here it is~
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While my expectations about the myths were way off for Sylus, I think, he still fits this theme really well. Because, yes, he was the child in the basement, and he was the scapegoat, along with all the dragons.
When humans first arrived in the past days of Philos, they probably came to this place to escape the wanderer-infested Earth and find a place where they could live a peaceful life. Maybe the public was told Philos would be a nice little utopic place where people could live without fearing for their lives. But they were sold a lie. What they found when they arrived at Philos was a dying planet where dragons ruled, with a hollow core that was falling apart into pieces. It was just fragmented landmasses slowly drifting apart as described in Xavier's anecdotes.
So, wouldn't the public be outraged? Defeated. Betrayed. Drained. Drained, because they still have to fight for their lives. Betrayed, because they were scammed out of a better future. Defeated, because there is no such thing as heaven, only a different hell.
So, of course, to prevent the public from turning against them, the people who brought humanity to Philos had to find someone to blame.
A perfect scapegoat. A scapegoat that can hold a mirror to all of humanity's twisted desires and yet still be blamed for it.
Dragons, the harbinger of war and conflict. Dragons, that could bring the darkest parts of one's soul to light. Of course, they're to blame. After all, anyone would prefer to say, it was not me who had these evil, heinous thoughts, my soul was corrupted by a dragon. No need to take responsibility for my wicked nature, the dragon made me do it.
So, they declared war on dragons, promising a better future once again. They killed every single one of the dragon-kind until there was only one of them left. Now, the last dragon cannot be killed. If all dragons were dead, then there would be no scapegoat. One of them must be kept locked in the basement to remind us all he's responsible for every evil in this world. We are not just locking a little child into the basement, we are locking the evil away.
So they made a spectacle out of the last dragon's demise and sealed him into the abyss with a claymore in his chest. A violent end for a vicious dragon. A constant reminder to all humanity to keep their souls untainted by desire. Of course, a puppet without a want is the easiest to control after all.
But, now, enough time has passed. Maybe the public is growing restless and no one really cares about the child in the basement anymore. So, the moment they find a puppet with a single desire, they frame her too. And burn her dragon. Burn her sympathy for the locked child.
And that's how it begins. For MC's and Sylus's story, they're both the scapegoats. And for their story, MC is the one who broke the child free out of the basement and brought doomsday to Philos. With Sylus, we take a closer look at the story from the child's perspective rather than the savior's, who set the child free.
And, we see that even freeing the child and destroying the people responsible for his imprisonment does not guarantee a happy ending. He is still a dragon who is destined to ruin anything he loves and everything he desires.
And, maybe that was the reason why he let himself be trapped by the sacred judicator in the first place. Sylus never accepted his identity as a dragon. He hated it. He fooled himself into thinking he was just like other humans, and cut up his horns every time they grow until he was a bloody mess. Maybe, that young dragon, while soldiers were chasing him with their swords, thought that this was what he deserved. Happiness and being satisfied with what he has is just not in his nature. That day, he was defeated not by an army of humans, but by his own hatred against himself.
So, loving her, with his own soul etched in hers, meant accepting his own nature. And maybe, that was how he actually broke free out of his chains. That's when he saw himself not as a scapegoat for humanity's sins, but as a lonely dragon who deserved this love he received.
At the beginning of the story, he did not try to break free from his chains until MC found him, he did not seek revenge unless MC asked for it. But by the end, he broke free when was imprisoned and burned down every city to the ground. By the end, he seeked MC when she was about to be executed and willingly fell into their trap. Only this time he did not accept his end because he hated himself, but he accepted it to save his beloved who owns half his soul. That was a sacrifice he made in the name of love, all with selflessness, while accepting his flawed nature. And that's how he broke free of the dragon's curse at the same time he escaped his fate to become a scapegoat for the people of Philos.
And I really love the current Sylus. He still longs for human connection just like his younger self. But his desire to connect does not bring self-hatred anymore. Instead, he rides the subway, takes the twins under his wings, and goes to karaoke with MC's coworkers.
Maybe, he feels at peace now. I hope he does.
He's reunited with the owner of his soul. And even if everyone blames him for what's wrong in this world, he has no desire to let them have their way. He will escape the space-time prison and chase MC to the ends of the worlds.
So, he will get the ending he actually deserves this time with his beloved by his side.
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tszkrx · 2 months ago
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the distance between us | throdore nott x reader
The winds outside the castle howled as the storm raged on, but inside the dimly lit Slytherin common room, all was still. The faint glow of the fire flickered, casting eerie shadows on the stone walls. Theodore Nott sat in the corner, a book open in his lap but his eyes far from the pages. His thoughts were elsewhere, plagued by a series of decisions he could no longer undo.
Y/N sat across from him, tracing the rim of her teacup with a finger, her mind clearly elsewhere too. Their relationship had always been complicated, yet for a time, it had felt right. But now, something had shifted—something unspoken, something that had eroded the closeness they once shared. She couldn’t pinpoint the moment it had started, but she could feel it now, heavy in the air between them.
She glanced up at him, catching him staring at her. His expression was unreadable, almost distant.
“Theo,” she said softly, breaking the silence that had hung between them like a thick fog. “What’s going on with you?”
Theodore didn’t answer right away. He looked at her, his dark eyes filled with an unreadable sadness. He had always been a master of hiding his emotions, of pretending everything was fine, but lately, even he couldn’t fool himself.
“You’ve been distant,” she pressed, her voice laced with concern. “It’s like you’re here, but you’re not. You’ve been avoiding me.”
He sighed, a sound that seemed to come from the very depths of him. His gaze shifted away, focusing on the fire instead of her. “I’m not avoiding you,” he muttered, but even he could hear the lie in his words. “I just... I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” she asked, her voice breaking. It wasn’t anger that filled her voice, but something much worse—hurt, confusion. “Theo, you can’t keep doing this.”
Theodore looked back at her, guilt gnawing at him like a constant ache. He had wanted to explain, to tell her everything, but the words wouldn’t come. How could he tell her that he was pulling away because he was terrified of losing her? Or worse, that he was pushing her away because he couldn’t trust himself to stay?
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper.
She scoffed, shaking her head. “You’re already hurting me. This distance, this coldness—Theo, I don’t understand what happened to you. I thought we were in this together.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, running a hand through his messy dark hair, as if trying to find the right words. The storm outside seemed to reflect his internal chaos. Every part of him was at war—he loved her, he knew that, but there was a part of him, deep down, that felt unworthy of her love. That part told him it was better to pull away before he could ruin everything.
But even as he thought that, he knew it wasn’t true. The silence that had settled between them was a living thing now, growing more suffocating with every passing moment.
“Y/N,” he began, his voice shaking, “I’m sorry. I’ve been... I’ve been a mess. And it’s not you—it’s me. I’m scared.”
Her brow furrowed. “Scared of what?”
“Of everything.” His voice broke, and he looked away again, unable to meet her gaze. “Of being the reason you get hurt. Of failing you.”
She stood up, unable to sit still any longer. The words were too much, too heavy. “What are you talking about? You’re not going to fail me, Theo. You’re not going to hurt me. But you’re doing it right now by shutting me out.”
“I’m protecting you,” he muttered, standing up as well, pacing slightly. “I thought that if I distanced myself, it would be easier for you when it all falls apart. When this war comes... when I have to fight.”
Her face fell, and for the first time, her hurt was visible in her eyes, raw and exposed. “Theo, don’t say that. Don’t talk like that.”
“I’m not the person you think I am,” he said harshly, as though trying to convince both of them. “I can’t be what you need me to be. Not in this war, not in this world. You deserve better than... than whatever I am.”
Tears stung at her eyes as she stepped toward him. “Theo, you’re everything I need. I don’t care about your past or the war. I care about you. But if you keep pushing me away, there won’t be anything left of us to save.”
He flinched, the weight of her words hitting him harder than anything else. She was right, of course. He could feel everything slipping through his fingers, but he was too afraid to hold on tightly enough to stop it. His fear was drowning him, suffocating him in ways he didn’t know how to fight.
“Y/N, I...” he started, but the words caught in his throat.
“Don’t,” she interrupted, her voice trembling with a mix of frustration and despair. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
There was a long silence. The distance between them felt like an ocean now, so vast it seemed impossible to cross.
“I never wanted to hurt you,” Theodore said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I already have, haven’t I?”
She nodded, her tears falling freely now. “You’ve hurt me more than you could ever know.”
He wanted to reach for her, to hold her, to beg for her forgiveness, but his limbs felt frozen. How could he fix this when it was already too late? How could he take back the space he’d put between them?
“I’m sorry,” he said again, his voice breaking with the weight of his regret. “I’m so sorry.”
But she was already turning away, walking slowly toward the door. “I need time, Theo. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep waiting for you to come back.”
Theodore stood there, feeling his heart shatter as he watched her leave, her footsteps echoing in the silence of the common room. The door clicked shut behind her, and he was left standing in the cold, dark room, the fire now burning low.
He knew it was over for good this time.
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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 7 months ago
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Unfamiliar
Part 1
Demon!Grim gets summoned by a bunch of kids accidentally and immediately decides to adopt them in retaliation
Grim’s day had been great, right up until a magic circle opened up beneath his feet.
He’d been let off work early! There was a sale at the supermarket! On tuna! His mood could not be ruined! He had been heading home, preparing to enjoy his spoils of war, perhaps over a new episode of that one Romcom he liked.
But it was not to be.
He was being summoned.
His tote bag slipped from his fingers in his surprise, his groceries spilling out over the asphalt.
Not that this was his main concern at the moment.
It was certainly a large one, though. At least the tuna he’d bought came in cans — if his precious snack had touched the ground… he thought he would have killed whoever had dared to summon him.
(He was still considering it.)
He grimaced as the world blurred around him, his body stretching and pulling, until he was spit out on the other side.
He plastered a fake smile on his face, turning to ask his boss why they had changed their mind.
Only to stop cold. Because this was not his boss at all.
There were… three kids, sitting around a copy of the magic circle that had summoned him, written in their own blood. From their wide-eyed expressions, it was pretty obvious that they hadn’t actually thought their summoning would be successful.
For a moment, it was perfectly silent. No one knew what to do, how to approach this unprecedented situation.
Finally, the one on the right, the one with blue hair who was looking up at him with a healthy amount of terror, moved. He dropped into a seiza, only wincing slightly when cut-up hands touched the ground.
He may live.
The other two, however…
The one on the right was a boy with a mess of red hair. He was laughing hysterically, his hands hugging his stomach, staining his already ragged shirt.
And then there was the girl with black hair. Sitting in the middle, her arms crossed over her chest huffily. Looking at Grim in disapproval, as if she was the one suffering here. “He’s not cute enough.”
“What?” said Grim.
“I don’t want you. Go back home.”
With no further ado, she reached forward and broke the magic circle.
Grim was back in Hell. His groceries were at his feet.
… the audacity.
Not only did they have the audacity to summon him, they also rejected him?!
No. No. Absolutely not.
He saw another magic circle open up under some other demon nearby and shoved them out of the way.
Within the minute, he was standing in front of the kids again. The boy with blue hair looked mortified.
“Why did you reject me?!” Grim snapped.
“You’re not cute,” the girl said, as if it were a crime.
The kids looked approximately nine or ten, maybe it was equivalent to a crime in their minds. Grim had heard that young humans grow up soft and squishy. This could very well be the worst thing that they had ever experienced.
Grim crossed his arms over his chest. “First of all, I’m adorable, so jot that down. Second of all, what the hell? That’s not a very nice thing to say to someone.”
The kids gasped.
“It’s a demon!” The blue-haired one said in a not-so-quiet whisper.
The other two nodded seriously.
Grim snorted at the fact that the kids had recognized him as a demon, not because of the hulking figure covered in fur or rams horns sprouting from his head or the glowing red sigil on his chest… but because of a mild swear word.
“You can’t have a demon as a familiar,” said the redhead. His voice was rough, like he had chain smoked every day since the day he was born ten years ago.
The girl nodded her agreement, and dismissed Grim once again.
He blinked at the red skies above him. Was God playing with him or something? He didn’t think he’d done anything to get on the guy’s List. He worked a goddamn 9 to 5. He barely had enough soleils to afford a two room apartment! There was no way he was on the big man’s radar.
So, no, this was just a cruel twist of fate.
That might just be worse.
He was getting rejected by human children. Repeatedly. For no reason.
This time, Grim twisted his features while he waited for a new magic circle to open up. They wanted cute? He could be cute, if it got him answers.
However, the moment he stepped through, the kids all screamed bloody murder, clinging to each other for comfort.
Hm. Maybe they didn’t like pet chimeras in the human world? Grim couldn’t imagine why. He’d always wanted one himself. Unfortunately, with two mouths to feed, it was not something a lower demon like him could easily afford.
But, fine, at least he could use their moment of terror to look around.
Hm…
The room was, frankly, pitifully bare. Clean to the point where Grim found himself wondering whether these kids had anything at all. A bed, pushed into the corner. A threadbare rug, rolled up and set neatly under said bed. A single alarm clock, currently set on the floor beside the redheaded boy. The only ‘messy’ thing was the comforter — covered in hearts — which had been pushed under the door frame.
Trying to mute sound? Were they hiding their summoning attempts from one of their parents?
Before he could open one of his mouths to ask them this, the redhead jerked forward and scraped a clawed hand over the blood on the floor to break the connection.
After a few minutes' wait, he was back in the small room once again. In his original form, since they — somehow — liked that one better.
The kids were not entirely over their terror quite yet. The girl was completely silent as she stared at him, her mouth hanging open. The boys were trembling like leaves.
He wasn’t sure which reaction was better.
“What was wrong with that form?!” Grim sulked. “I made sure it was nice and fluffy for you!”
“It had two heads!” the blue-haired one said, sounding like he was about to cry.
“More to pet!”
The redhead pressed his hand over his mouth, looking like he was going to be sick.
The one with blue hair also looked like he was going to be sick, actually, but he seemed to have other concerns:
“Are — are you sure you read that familiar summoning ritual right, Trinity?”
The girl (Trinity, apparently) jolted back to awareness. “Deuce! Don’t make me lose my Name again.”
“Okay, that’s not how Names work, but if it was then you just lost me mine, too.”
“That’s doing you a favor! Your name sucks.”
“You and Ace won’t even tell me what’s wrong with it!”
Trinity made a frustrated little sound, decidedly continuing to not explain anything.
Grim considered all of the kids in turn.
Hm… Trinity, Deuce, Ace. They didn’t look related, so it probably wasn’t the result of a single, uncreative parent. Were they using fake names?
Names only really mean something to the fae, but when in doubt it was always smart to have a fake name handy.
Maybe humans were warier than he remembered them being? It hadn't been that long since he’d been to the human world, though…
But, then again, Grim was beginning to suspect that these three weren’t humans at all. He eyed Ace’s clawed hands. Considered how familiar Deuce was with Names. Squinted down at the summoning circle at his feet, which could be done by any adult human who knew how to channel their essence properly, but would not be possible for a child unless they were a witch.
But why would a bunch of nonhumans even need a familiar? Enhanced senses? Surely, between the three of them, they covered most of the bases. And, yes, witches were often fond of familiars, but there were rules for stuff like that. Magic was dangerous stuff. They shouldn’t be practicing unsupervised!
Completely random example, but what if she summoned a demon by accident? That could be dangerous!
Ace waved his hands for his bickering friends’ attention. “Guys? There’s still a demon in our room.”
Trinity and Deuce blinked. They looked at Grim, who was just… standing there, staring back at them.
“This is a demon summoning ritual,” said Grim, eventually, because it needed to be said, pointing at the ground. “Not a ritual to create a familiar.”
Ace and Deuce gave Trinity accusatory looks.
Her face flushed red. “What?! But…” She grabbed a tome from behind herself and started flipping through the pages. Until she landed on one about demon summoning.
She turned it around so Grim could see.
He had to admit, the wording would seem a little vague if you weren’t experienced. Especially for children, who would have more trouble picking up the nuances of certain words.
Still.
“If you can’t tell the difference between summoning a demon and creating a familiar, you shouldn’t be doing complex magic like this,” he chided, shaking his head. “Really, where are your parents?”
She ignored his question entirely: “But then what’s all this stuff about protection down here?!”
Grim sighed, shaking his head. “Yes, demons can protect you, for a price. It’s a preeeeetty common deal, having a supernatural bodyguard is super convenient, but...”
The three kids immediately perked up.
“What’s the price?” Deuce asked.
Grim frowned. What could these kids even need protecting from? Poverty?
“A soul…?”
Trinity lit up and raised her hand.
“Witches don’t have souls,” Grim shut her down immediately.
She mumbled something that sounded like a curse — the witch kind, the ends of her hair started to glow red, and her friends rushed to pat the flames out. Grim wondered if lighting her own hair on fire was really all that much better than a child swearing.
Nope, both were bad! Quick, distract her!
Grim tipped his head to the side, tapping his chin. “Unless you steal a soul, I guess, but I really doubt you have one on you.”
Trinity lit up. She turned to Deuce. “Deuceeee, can I have your soul, pretty please? I definitely won’t immediately trade it away.”
Deuce shrugged, opening his mouth.
“Hey,” snapped Ace. “Why do you get his soul?! What if I want it?!”
“You have your own soul!” she said, pointing an accusatory finger at him.
“Okay? And? What’s your point?”
“Guys, guys, what if you both get half of my soul?”
Grim sighed. “It doesn’t really work like that until you cash in the soul for soleils, which isn’t really common practice outside of the demon world. More importantly. Don’t be so blasé about giving away your soul!”
Deuce pouted. “But it’s my soul. I get to choose what to do with it. I want my friends to have it.”
Trinity and Ace took critical damage. They were immediately stunned into silence.
Grim sighed. “I guess that makes sense, but you really shouldn’t give your soul away when you’re so young. What if you change your mind later?”
Deuce thought this over. “Nah. It’s fine.”
What is wrong with kids these days?!
They’re going to get themselves killed!
Or worse.
He fought the urge to curse (a real curse, thank you, ‘hell’ barely counted — it was his home!). “What kind of familiar do you want?”
“A cat!” said Trinity, no hesitation at all. She looked very proud of herself when she explained that, ���All the cool witches have black cats!”
“… right,” he said. “Okay, I’ll help you get that ‘protection’ you want.”
But not a familiar, no. As great as familiars are, they know no more than their owners, which defeated the purpose of these three having one.
So… he didn’t necessarily have to tell them that the process to create a familiar was completely different from that of summoning a demon. That they weren’t even close. It involved, mostly, a lot of paper and a fire to forge the familiar in, not blood on the floor.
But hey! Amateurs would never be able to tell!
Grim hummed as he looked over the circle for anything he’d need to change. It was surprisingly well-constructed for an amateur. Even assuming she had just copied down what the tome had told her, the kid clearly had an eye for detail. A spell to ensure that Grim couldn’t leave the circle, one to keep him from hurting anyone, a spell to mute his negative emotions (now that he thought about it, he really couldn’t feel much more than annoyance and mild exasperation right now)…
He quietly scratched out anything that could limit him.
Deuce was watching him suspiciously. If he was a faerie, like Grim suspected he was, then he could probably sense that Grim was being generally dishonest. An older faerie would be able to tell exactly which words were lies in a casual conversation, but it would take quite some time before Deuce got to that level.
“Are you going to hurt us?” Deuce asked outright.
Grim squatted down, until they were almost eye to eye.
“No, I won’t,” he said, holding out a hand to shake. It couldn’t leave the outer rim of the magic circle, sharp fingernails just barely scraping against the invisible force field. “Promise.”
Deuce nodded slowly, reaching a hand up to shake his.
Grim sighed internally. He could have dragged the kid through to his world if he wanted. They really do need someone to protect them.
Ah, well, Grim thought, shaking his head to himself. He’d been hoping to take a holiday sometime soon, anyway.
Who knows, maybe he’d even head back home with a couple of souls under his belt.
(Not the kids’ souls, of course, he had standards. Grim just wanted to meet their… ‘parents’. Have a little chat with them about how to supervise your own children.)
———
Part 2>
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lightshiningforth · 5 months ago
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Maybe the way to have saved the world was to stay in the 1960s at the end of season 2. After the last battle, the Hargreeves all slip away and live quiet lives. Yes, they’re wanted criminals… but it’s also prior to a lot of technology that would make them easy to track. They could skip town, change their names, lay low.
What real reason is there to go back to 2019? Five believes that if they go back, the original apocalypse will not happen, but there’s no basis for that other than the Handler’s word, and the Handler is untrustworthy. The Commission wants them to go back, since they don’t belong in the 1960s, but they just defeated the Commission in battle. They’ve already mucked up the timeline, anyway - they met Hargreeves before any of them were born and told him things he wouldn’t have known, otherwise. They’ve also caused several national incidents. Going back to 2019 will NOT bring them back to the 2019 they knew. Five, of all people, should know that (and it always bothered me that he didn’t, and that everyone was shocked to find a new reality in season 3). They’ve changed history. It’s too late.
So, why not exist in this timeline? I think it would be hard for Allison, who would have to give up on the possibility of ever seeing Claire again. But this time, she would have Ray with her. This time, she would be able to mourn safely, and wouldn’t spiral.
Luther would find a new job, move on from his unhealthy fixation with Allison, come to care for her in a normal brotherly way and love Ray as his brother in law. Maybe he and Diego would live together as chaotic roommates.
Diego would get twitchy trying not to do things that draw attention to himself. Maybe he’d be a vigilante again. Maybe he’d be a small town cop. But when Lila comes back (and she will come back, there’s no reason she couldn’t try her trick with Stan in the 1960s), they work things out and build a life together.
Klaus would struggle for a while, absolutely. No Ben. No Dave. Freshly relapsed. But he would come out of it, too. Maybe Diego would help him, like he does in the first season. Or Allison would, like she does in the fourth. But he won’t be alone again. Perhaps Dave survives the war - don’t we see him join a different military branch at the end of the season? Perhaps Klaus changes the timeline just enough that he lives. Perhaps they meet again, by chance. Perhaps they hit it off.
Or perhaps not. Maybe that’s too much of a paradox (if Dave joins a different branch and never meets Klaus and lives, then how can Klaus have met him and lost him and gone back to warn him?). That wouldn’t stop Klaus from meeting another nice young man and living together as “roommates.” He still remembers his relationship with Dave. That’s real, that matters, he mourns it. But he moves on and he’s happy.
Five retires. Sure, he’s twitchy for awhile. Still waiting for the other shoe to drop. But finally he relaxes, puts on the retiree hat he does in season 3. Goes fishing and road tripping. Jumps in to see his family whenever he wants. He and Lila hate each other, but they agree not to kill each other for Diego’s sake. Hate eventually morphs into begrudging respect.
Ben is gone. It’s tragic. But he saves Vanya, and he crosses over. He’s at peace.
Vanya, Sissy, and Harlan would run away together. Vanya would become Viktor, making them all the more difficult to track. They would realize Harlan has powers, but it wouldn’t ruin his life with Viktor there to help him manage. He’d also help him cope with the guilt of having caused the death of his abusive father - who knows more about destruction and guilt than Viktor Hargreeves? Maybe Viktor would even remove the powers, and let Harlan be a normal little boy who grows up to be an ordinary man.
Now for the fun part. Since Harlan isn’t out of control in this reality, he’s not going to accidentally kill the mothers. So, all seven Umbrellas will still be born. Now what? Five is adamant that they don’t meet each other, but when have the others ever listened to Five?
The real question… will Reginald Hargreeves adopt the Umbrellas, or will he adopt the Sparrows? If he adopts the Sparrows, there’s the difficulty of watching another superhero team (plus Ben! A Ben who looks just like their brother!) go through their traumatic childhood. Plus wondering how their other childhood selves are doing out there. But if Reginald adopts the Umbrellas… oh boy. Now the clock is ticking on another apocalypse.
Imagine the Umbrellas, old now, trying to stop their younger selves from causing an apocalypse. When do they intervene? Do they try to stop Five from leaving? Save Ben? Tell little Vanya that she has powers? Threaten Reginald into being a better father? Or is it Leonard they try to stop? Or each other - does Viktor talk down Vanya, does Luther talk down Luther, etc.? Is this now another potential paradox - for if they prevent the apocalypse, then these versions of themselves won’t jump back in time, so how are they now here and elderly and preventing the apocalypse?
Anyway. This would be fascinating to me. And I’d like it more than whatever season 4 was.
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cazzyf1 · 2 months ago
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Wolfgang von Trips teenage opinion on WW2
When I read over his diaries a few months ago one entry that stuck out to me was one where he went to see a war film in the cinema and then wrote down his feelings on what had happened in the war, his feelings about Germany, and his feelings about the army. I found it interesting because I had never read a German's perspective on it before and it was a unique read. So when rereading his diary I decided when I came to this entry I'd write it up and publish it for anyone else curious about what his teenage opinions were.
Reminder that this was written when Wolfgang von Trips was in prime teenage angst and still struggled to understand and cope with the effects of growing up in the war and almost dying a few times. As he got older he was determined to try and restore Germany's good reputation, especially with cars and was good friends with very patriotic Brits.
(Translated from German to English via a translator)
October 14, 1947, Tuesday
I haven't been OK for days. I had a very bad cold, it's better now, but I still have a lot of pressure above my left eye. I'm worried about inflammation in my sinus. I want to do some serious inhalation. Maybe it will clear up after all.
I was just at the cinema. English film, typically English. They showed the victory celebration. It makes you feel awfully different when you see how our defeat is celebrated. How we fought and yet we were ruined. The film and everything else took me back to a time a few years ago when we were (at least from my point of view) a people who stuck together, were honest and fought, when as a boy I was enthusiastic about everything and proud when our planes came, saw nothing bad in anything. During the war I didn't see anything bad about the war itself either. (Today I have a different opinion.) But I was still capable of enthusiasm and when one day, after a long time spent at the school camp, I saw German tanks and planes in the newsreel for the first time, I cried with excitement or pride. It was an indefinable feeling. And now it's all over. Forever. Never, never again will we carry weapons, soldiers.
Everything is bad, mean and vile, what was previously an ideal and a model. Never again will I be able to freely and truly choose. I know today, and I fully understand, that one can what used to be my highest ideal was actually not quite right. But I still mourn all of it because it will never come back and there is no replacement for it. And when I compare my thoughts from back then with those of today, ideals, goals, plans, I can't describe it like that.
I still remember exactly how, during the Jabo era, I once thought to myself: I can still picture the moment - what do you do when no more bombs are falling, no more Jabos are coming, and no more anti-aircraft guns are firing?
I thought that I must be missing something that was almost vital to my life, so it had all become my world. Today I realise that this is really something that can be rejected with normal common sense, not wrongly influenced by time, and knows it too. But the fact that I have directed all my childish and youthful - certainly not small - enthusiasm towards something that is now over forever makes me very sad. How well could something else have taken its place? something of lasting value, art, music, or for that matter, something technical. Then I wouldn't feel like I'm in such a topsy-turvy world today. I see it in other boys. For them, it doesn't mean as much as it does for me. They just didn't rely on it like I did and it was just a side issue, annoying side effect for them. Unfortunately, I'm a bit stuck now, I keep looking from one thing to the other, I just can't settle down anywhere. The contradictions in which I live and those around me are too great. I don't really know where I belong, I'm also missing the right friend, I'm missing Rudolf von Marsewsky.
It's all rubbish, damn it! The time is over, all the ideals destroyed, but if I'm honest with myself, my pure reason tells me that everything was just right, war, violence and power and so on.
I see it very differently today, but deep down I say it was beautiful and powerful and definitely better than this filth today. It's a shame that I can't really express my thoughts so that I can record them for later. Because I'm sure I'll change somehow and it'll be interesting to see what it would be like now if I still had something like that from the war or before. But I have it a little different in my head than I can express it here.
Sometimes, like now, I remember the past. Then the whole time comes back to me and I start to compare and a train of thought arises like this one. (Usually it is a conversation, a film or something else that triggers it.) And when I think about freedom, about my real life as a boy, with shooting, riding, hunting, also Hitler Youth service and military training in the mountains, our conversations and thoughts at the time and the feeling I had when I thought about the Air Force and my future, and now I think about the fact that this kind of feeling of happiness can never arise in me again because there simply can't be any reason for it anymore, then I could cry.
I haven't been aware of all this for a long time. Simply because I haven't thought about it that much. Writing it all down is partly a mental aid. It helps me get deeper into something than if I just think about it.
I was just counting the pages and had to laugh at myself. I could spend hours pondering about some of the things that usually bother me. But I want to stop for today, maybe tomorrow or soon if I get into a strange mood again (it's just the film's fault).
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farthest-harbor · 3 days ago
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Since you have a lot of nick v. Hcs, do you have any hcs bout pre war nick and synth nick where their likes/dislikes/opinions/traits are opposite from each other. Like ex pre war nick hates cats while as synth nick loves cats.
Hell yeah!
- I think prewar Nick was more outgoing than synth Nick. I think he had more confidence, as life had been much kinder to him (up until Jenny’s death, that is). He may have even been a little arrogant, but still kindhearted. Rather different from our much humbler, much more laid-back synth Nick. Synth Nick is certainly much more insecure, partly to do with how people treat him, partly because he compares his synth body to his human one, and partly because he believes that not even the Institute wanted to keep him around. He uses sarcasm and witty retorts to deflect people’s nasty remarks and keep up an outward wall of invulnerability, but he’s still affected by the way people treat him deep down. Still, he’s much more relaxed, more able to sit back and enjoy the little things. Many of the changes in his personality have to do with life circumstances, but some of them also just have to do with getting older and more mature.
- Prewar Nick liked more upbeat music. Both love jazz, but prewar Nick was more into Ella Fitzgerald, Count Basie, Louis Jordan, energetic music for dancing fast. And he loved to show off on the dance floor. Synth Nick’s tastes are a little mellower, he loves Billie Holiday and Chet Baker. He doesn’t go out to dance anymore, with no partner to dance with, but you might catch him practicing on his own to the radio if you barge into the agency late at night, his motions slow, smooth, and elegant. He’d be a little embarrassed if you saw.
- Prewar Nick was a huge workaholic and a budding alcoholic. The drinking got much worse after he lost Jenny. Synth Nick can’t get drunk, although he wishes he could sometimes. He is still very much a workaholic. He’s got twice as many hours to fill each day without the need to sleep, so he spends a lot of them working. He’s gotten better at taking breaks since Ellie joined the agency, though. She takes some of the more tedious work off his shoulders and reminds him to step away for a bit.
- Prewar Nick liked to gamble. Mostly pool and card games at bars. Jenny made him promise to stop after he lost very badly one night and they had to borrow money for rent. Synth Nick hasn’t picked the habit back up. He doesn’t have that many caps to spare, and not many people in Diamond City would play a game of cards with a synth, anyways.
- Prewar Nick was very picky about his cigarettes. Had a niche preferred brand. Synth Nick can’t afford to be so picky, people don’t manufacture cigarettes anymore, so he’ll take what he can scavenge, usually just the basic Gray Tortoise brand. They don’t do anything for him on a chemical level, but he finds comfort in the ritual of smoking. The brand doesn’t seem so important to him now. But if you managed to scrounge up his old favorite somewhere as a gift, he’d probably be over the moon.
- Prewar Nick didn’t like Boston at first. Moving there from Chicago, he felt that the city was smaller, less lively, with worse food, and the streets were harder to navigate without the grid system. The longer he lived there with Jenny, the more it started to grow on him. He could envision raising a child in Boston, going to all the parks as a family, and he started to have a list of favorite pubs and delis to visit. Boston was ruined for him after he lost Jenny. Everything was ruined for him, really. Synth Nick has lived in Boston long enough to know its virtues and its flaws, changed as they are in a post-war world. He likes the charm of the old brick buildings in the North End, the boats in the harbor, the Esplanade with its view of the Charles, and the old-fashioned vibes of the Fenway area. He even likes the lazy Boston accent, although only a few people still have it. But he also sees the long history of prejudice and elitism that’s always been a part of Boston throughout history and the disturbing ways it continues on postwar. He’ll never leave, it’s where he’s made his home, but it’s certainly not paradise either.
Hope you enjoyed, feel free to send more asks! I’m having lots of fun with these hcs :)
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makerofmadness · 18 days ago
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Golden Cheese Cookie (II AU)
thought for posts talking about individual characters I'd start with the first character I properly developed for it. So uh fun fact since this AU spawned during the Land of Fire and Ruin update guess who basically wrote herself out of my brain at this AU's inception
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That's right: our lord and savior Biggie Cheese /ref
The Demonic Goddess, Great Destroyer, Beast of Destruction, whatever name you wish to call her <3
(other relevant posts: main post about AU, GC dialogue post)
She was the fourth of her friends to fall- and she hung on by a thread for all that time. You see, the thing about them was that as they tried to make it through the eons, the only real comfort they had was in each other... however, over time, even that wasn't meant to last. Against their wills. Things got in the way. One by one, they fell
Golden Cheese Cookie, poor Golden Cheese Cookie... she was never the best at handling loss. First it was the Dark Flour War, then it was being displaced in time itself, and now she had to endure the cycle of repeatedly building things up and watching them fall, over and over and over again as history marched its way on...
If it hadn't been for the love and support of her friends, those most precious treasures of hers, she would have shattered so much sooner. They helped her endure, kept her grounded, through every time her heart had been cut into and grief had poured out of it...
And then, some of them just... fell silent. It was impossible to arrange to meet anymore without full communication. No one wanted to really acknowledge what had likely happened
Still, she just barely survived on letters alone. As much as it hurt not getting to see her friends' faces, to hold them in her arms- and even when the next one fell, at least she had...
Eventually, after yet another loss, yet another blow to her mental state that had long been past the point of collapse, she waited and waited for Pure Vanilla Cookie to write back to her...
But even he had finally fallen silent.
...had he been taken from her too, just like everything else? Had all of them been? All of her friends, just like all the rest of her treasures- why was the world so keen on ripping them from her arms?
She finally had reached her breaking point. With nothing and no one else left, she finally cracked under the pressure.
If the world was going to destroy everything she loved, destroy her...
Then why shouldn't she just treat it the same way?
-
I was originally gonna write the rest out in long form but decided to put it in bullet notes for ease of presentation/to make it easier to read through. Just talking about her personality/Present self.
Queen of the Land of Spice; highly protective (arguably possessive) over her subjects who, in turn... mostly fear her and her destructive power. Though unlike with a certain Cookie in another time, it isn't only fear they have for her...
Still as greedy as ever. If she likes something enough, she hordes it in her palace's vaults, safe and sound and unable to be stolen (...this sometimes also applies to living desserts)
She is very clingy. (Not just physically... but often also physically; hey, she loves hugs!)
She's also very affectionate. (In general. Including physically. Again, she loves hugs)
Has a few cat-like mannerisms. Picked them up from a certain dear friend of hers
She has a lot more energy in her than she used to, making her behavior border on hyperactive, as a result of her not constantly venting her destructive energy. She wasn't really built to handle destruction, and that energy has to come out, one way or another...
When she is upset or distressed, that energy grows out of her control, and she goes into a full-on destructive rampage. There aren't many Cookies that can stop her when this happens, so the Spices have just kinda learned to keep a far distance and wait her out. After all, if any of them get even just hurt (let alone worse) by her, that will only devastate her more, and devastation... breeds devastation.
She considers herself to be both the Demon and the God described by the legend, as she was once one and is now the other.
She is particularly close with Nutmeg Tiger Cookie.
She can be quite playful. Despite being older, she's arguably acts even more childishly than she used to.
She laughs a lot. It's a coping mechanism.
The crack in her face emanates pure destructive energy.
Even after an eternity spent ripped from them, she has not forgotten a single Cookie of the Golden Cheese Kingdom...
She... doesn't really like what she's become. She especially doesn't like her uncontrollable destructive urges. But she can't help it, so... might as well revel in it. Have fun with it! She isn't having fun. At least until she can take back what is rightfully hers...
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crazylittlejester · 2 months ago
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https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGd2KFax7/
Your modern au Wars:
Oh also ! I'm sorry if you've been asked this before, but is this version of Wars like classic LU Warriors or does he have the DLC that your version of Wars has? (Like, the internalised need to be perfect/beautiful, blood sugar issues, etc.) (also sorry I'm incredibly sleep deprived writing this so it may not be 100% coherent-)
THATS HIM ALKNSLSNLN
my miscellaneous modern au Wars IS my version of him just in the modern world, but there are a few differences, the biggest being his family relationships. His father was never in the picture in this au, he was raised by a single mother, and his relationship with her is awful at best. They don’t really speak, she’s allowed to contact him once per month (a boundary Wars set that she agreed to) and they haven’t physically been in the same room since he was 17 years old when he left home for the dorms. She was never physically abusive to him, and she does love and care about him very very much in her, but she tired to live through him after him being born ruined her career as a dancer at 19 and the amount of stress she put on him at such a young age is 100% the reason he’s BARELY a functional adult after years and years of therapy and she didn’t realize all the harm she was causing until it was far too late. She’s the reason he’s so conflicted about his love for dance and the reason he misses skating so much, because that was HIS thing and he feels like staying in dance is just doing what his mother wanted all along. Had she been older or had support raising him, she could have been a good parent, she was just very young and very angry at the situation she was in. Wars blames her for a lot of things that aren’t technically her fault, but he has every right to be upset with her. If they both worked for it they COULD have a relationship again (not a GREAT one, but something), but Wars is still trying to process a lot of trauma and he really needs space and time to heal from a lot of things. Malon kinda snatched him up the moment Twi brought him to the ranch so he has a supportive mother figure in his life, but his relationship with his actual mother is just. Not fantastic
another thing is that he didn’t grow up with sisters in this au like he did with how I write him normally, but he DOES have a half-sister from the same father, and that’s Linkle. She’s a year older than him and after HER mom died she wanted to find people from her dad’s side and ended up finding Wars and then realized they went to the same college and she was like “PERFECT!” and wanted to meet him. He was a little wary of meeting her at first (he had a lot going on in his personal life at the time) but they’ve slowly become pretty decent friends :)
apart from that, my standard Wars I write and this Wars are the same PERSON, they’ve just been through very different experiences so there are small differences simply because one of these guys went through war and the other one owns an iphone alkjslskjlksj. Both are brazilian/scottish, have blood sugar issues, a fear of returning home, a bad knee, naturally dark curly hair that’s straightened and dyed blond, horrific eyesight, etc. that’s all the same, but the cause for the need to be perfect is a little different (pressure from being the hero and having a war caused over you vs. being raised in an environment that leads you to believe that if you’re not the best you’re nothing at all)
sorry for rambling i put. way too much thought into this au and also this character- i wuv him he is my blorbo and special guy 🥺
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marineduo · 1 year ago
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Cobymeppo / Kobymeppo Fic Recs!
Here's a list of Koby / Helmeppo fics that I personally recommend, for @klausbens and anyone else just getting into Kobymeppo from the Live Action! Putting them under a read more because this is going to be a long. Fics will be linked in the fic titles! They are ordered in oldest to newest.
General Recs
This Modest Paradise - Eloarei
Coby and Helmeppo run into Morgan while shopping.
This one is my all-time favorite Cobymeppo fic. It was one of the first I found and it's one I still think about and revisit often
Grow - Eloarei
Helmeppo is able to take care of himself, but when his father returns home with a promotion, he finds he suddenly doesn't have to anymore, and that's the weirdest part about moving to the Marine base in Shells town. Without any responsibilities, he becomes bored, and any of the positive attitude his mother might have left him with goes straight out the window.
This is a really sweet fic about Helmeppo's initial time in the Marines. Not as overtly Cobymeppo, but the last little bit always gets me right in the feels.
The Way of Monsters - Eloarei
Coby was used to monsters. After years under Alvida he thought he understood them. But escaping out into the world shows him that there's a lot he doesn't know. What makes a monster? And what redeems one?
This one's very fun. It has werewolves, and is a bit of a Beauty and the Beast kind of tale. Highly Recommend.
Building Desks For Dummies - thecayenneknight
Koby and Helmeppo must face their greatest mission yet: assembling a single piece of furniture.
Short and sweet and super cute.
Dance With Me - RedPen1992
Soon after the conclusion of the Paramount War, the Marines have to face their next greatest challenge, The Marine Gala.
This one's more focused on Akainu/Kizaru, but the Coby/Helmeppo stuff in there is really good. Overall a great read.
Anniversary - altokiwi
Ready to go party, Hina demands they tell her all about last year's Halloween Night, first. Holding Helmeppo's hand tight, Coby tells the story about the scariest —but also the happiest— night of his life.
This is a really good one. I may be biased since it was an exchange gift for me, but it's a wonderful blend of silly and a little spooky <3
To Come Back - merricat
Coby and Helmeppo's close-knit circle of Marines is holding a celebration at none other than Shells Town, which forces Helmeppo to confront demons past and present.
I'm also biased towards this one (another exchange gift), but man it's so good. Lots of Helmeppo looking back on things, and them just being so sweet with each other.
Daydreams - hamstercheese7
Coby just cannot concentrate on paperwork. And who could blame him, with a view like that?
This one's so silly sweet I love it. Has both Coby/Drake and Coby/Helmeppo.
Coby/Helmeppo Oneshots - ShadowoftheLightningPack
Ok this one's a doozy at 109 chapters but there are a lot of good ones in there. If nothing else I think it's really worth at least browsing to see if anything catches your attention! (That being said, read chapter 93 it's fun)
Against Change (You Can Wander Through the Ruins) - owlboxes
“I don’t want to pry,” Coby murmurs, quiet so as not to startle Helmeppo, who already looks seconds away from crumbling. “But…I want you to know I also want to listen, if you want someone to talk to.” “I have to get my hair cut in the morning,” Helmeppo says, his voice trembling, as he tugs at the strands that have grown longer, almost to his chin now. “…but what if I don’t want to?”
I'm a sucker for Cobymeppo Fics that center around Helmeppo's hair and this checks all the boxes.
My Fic Recs
(These are all ones I wrote myself that I think are worth a read)
Over the Edge
When Helmeppo ends up letting go in a precarious situation, Coby is forced to consider life without his other half, if only for a little while.
Diaries of Coby-Meppo
I particularly recommend Scissors.
Bloodsoaked
When things go south on a solo mission, Helmeppo takes things to the extreme.
Masquerade
Coby and Helmeppo attend the year's big masquerade ball at Mariejois and the night goes far better than Coby had ever expected.
A Haunted Base
“Tell me again why we’re doing this?” Helmeppo looked down from his perch on a ceiling beam, watching as Tashigi came in with a huff and slammed a box down on the operating table he’d stolen from the base earlier. “Because Smoker had better things to do, and nobody gets out of Vice Admiral Dahlia’s plans?” 
Day on the Edge
Coby enjoys a peaceful morning with his partner, but something leaves him feeling uneasy.
SPICY Fic Recs
Saved and Earned - Tonko
Integrity is a hard road, but Helmeppo is trying.
I don't even know what to say about this fic. You know that pic of the stick figure on all fours shaking something violently in its mouth? That's how crazy this fic makes me.
Guilty Pleasures - me
When Coby witnesses the carnage his friend and partner is capable of, in the moment he's not sure how he'll get past it. But the jokes on him, because he's into that shit.
I wrote this to be similar to Bloodsoaked, but more spicy.
Searching for the Words - 2Farky2Furious
“Helmeppo.” He shook himself from his thoughts. “Huh?” “It’s just me. You know you can tell me anything, right?” “I—” Helmeppo met the soft, familiar warmth of Coby’s gaze and blurted into the scant space between them. “I want to kiss you again.”
A little angsty at first, which makes the semi-public sex even better.
Helping Hands - leghair
What had started as a rare bartering chip back when they themselves were new recruits and every drill had left them quaking like newborn deer had shifted into a standard IOU or repaid-favour, and from there, eventually, had simply become… habit. After their midnight training sessions left them fatigued, they would crawl back to their barracks, where Helmeppo would scratch Coby’s back and Coby scratched his - quite literally. That’s just how they got through it. It had been a while, though, come to think of it. Their schedules had grown to be quite different since Coby’s promotion. He still got the occasional remedial massage from medical, but it just wasn’t quite the same as someone who knew his body as well as Meppo did.
Very good fic, but also I think of the tag 'formal apology to the one (1) cobymeppo shipper with an appetite for toes reading this with dismay' at least once a week.
Coby/Helmeppo Smut Oneshots - ShadowoftheLightingPack
If you don't read any of the others (though you should), at least read chapter 8. It's very good.
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