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fleechin · 30 days ago

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This is my 2024 @portal-secret-santa for @villafordefeatedvillains, they told me they were a huge fan of stuff that combines Portal and Half Life, as well as Caveline and Cave x Breen, and also Portal Stories Mel, so I had the idea of a bunch of different scenes I could do. In the end I found myself doing a sort of in depth analysis of Breen, Cave, and Caroline all together and comparing and contrasting their histories and perspectives. This gave me the chance to reference Mel and even some stuff with Entropy Zero 2 (which I know they didn't mention, but it's kinda the gold standard when it comes to combining half life and Portal and I have a tooooooon of headcanons about Caroline's role at Arbeit, so I just knew I had to bring that in).

There's some slightly suggestive stuff with Caveline and Cave x Breen (mostly Caroline's imagination running wild - who can blame her?), but nothing NSFW though.

But there you go, enjoy and a happy 2024 Holidays!

Part 1: According to a Small Fish

The year was 1975.

A crucial year for many people, perhaps, in ways that each and every one of them could recount. War stories, scandals, a casual fling with a one time lover that would eventually become the story to recount to future generations. The one who got away. A flame that nostalgia and the shitty marriage you’ve found yourself stuck in leaves you hoping to maybe, just maybe, rekindle. You wouldn’t get it, you say to your nieces, nephews, kids, grandkids, even your spouse before he or she leaves for good this time. You weren’t there.

For one man, who absolutely was there, it was the start of a career that would jettison him into notoriety. The fact he knew. The extent he did not.

An applied science and research facility, especially as prestigious as Black Mesa, would immortalize him, at least in some fields. Watch any documentary about the next Einstein, open up a textbook about the first man on Mars, and there was a good chance the name Wallace Breen would have appeared outside of the footnotes once or twice. Maybe they’d even interview him.

No one could have predicted how ubiquitous his name would have become, not even him. And yet, although deep down, had somebody come back with, say, a time travelling boat, and told him just how he would save the world and unite the human species with its benefactors, a part of him would have believed it. Imagined the escapades he would have gone through to get there.

For now though, Wallace Breen was on the path to greatness. He’d just become the new administrator of Black Mesa, and he was ready to clean house. Standard safety regulations that kept Black Mesa out of the news more than once had proven to be more of a nuisance than anything. There was no such thing as bad press, provided you can drown it out with achievements. Scientists frequently insisted that their equipment had limits. Limits that couldn’t be stretched or tested, lest they break something. Lest they accidentally create something.

Breen understood that limits were meant to be broken. If the technicians were unhappy with the machines they had, they could simply do what he was paying them to do and build a better one. Would people complain? Of course. Right up until the very end they complained. But they could not argue with his results. The Hazardous Environment Suit, before he’d arrived, was nothing more than a modified spacesuit, useless without a clunky power cable that was perfect for tripping on. Neither jack-of-all-trades, nor a master of one.

But Breen saw potential. Standardization of the parts, emphasis on compactness and multi-use. People objected of course, we need this component, they shouted, but they quickly shut up when they realized just how comfortable, mobile, and applicable the brand new Mark II suit was.

But as always, this was no time to celebrate. The cable had been reduced already, but the next iteration of the suit needed its own internal power supply. Humanity’s worst base instinct, aside from the urge to reproduce, that old tyrant, was complacency. It needed to be forced into action in order to survive.

The underground nature of Black Mesa had made him think a great deal about fossils. Calcified impressions of remains of beasts that, had they known what came before, would have thought themselves the pinnacle of evolution, the end of geological history. If only they had bothered to look to the stars.

Humanity could not make the same mistake.

Part 2: According to an Old Shark

For another man in Michigan, 1975 was a very different year.

Cave Johnson had been the talk of the town for more than half of his life, for better or worse. In the beginning, as a shower-curtain salesman, perhaps the biggest lesson he’d learned was how to sell anything and sign his name on it. It brought him wealth, power, fame, all the things he needed to retire.

But that was an easy life. The life of a showman who wanted nothing more than to make a nickel or two. And last he looked at his TIME Magazine interview, his name wasn’t PT Barnum.

Even during the war, he’d read up on what scientists were up to. The big names, Heisenberg, Einstein, Schwarzschild. Lots of Germans. Though he hadn’t read their exact papers or browsed the formulas, he knew they were onto something. Wormholes, warping of space-time continuum, nuclear decay. He had only one chance to board the underground train to wherever they were going.

And so he hopped on board and went down, down, down.

Purchasing the salt mine had been easy enough. Building everything was challenging, but he had no tolerance for doubters. Hiring had definitely eaten its share of the budget - scientists were happy to come along, but Olympians had convinced themselves that they deserved even more silver dollars than the big ones around their necks. War heroes were a hit or miss, some were more than happy to brag about their tales, and others wanted nothing more than anonymity after what they’d been through. Cowards.

And then there was Caroline. Where would he be without her?

Starting off as another one of the many girls he’d hired to man the typewriters and do the formulas that the Men Upstairs were much too important to think about, she’d made a name for herself by interning with him, and eventually applying on a whim to be his assistant. He took one look at her file and made his decision. It took even less time for them to become more than business partners.

Could he have settled down? Married her, taught Cave Junior the ropes of Aperture, gotten a picket fence somewhere and called it a life? Maybe. But Caroline didn’t seem like the kind of woman to want to quit like that. That just made him like her even more.

Cave and Caroline had taken Aperture Science Innovators to fame and infamy alike, assuming one believed that there was even a meaningful distinction between the two. Cave Johnson did not. The Quantum tunneling device and Repulsion Gel had quickly become household names. Unfortunately, so had Melanie Flanagan.

So what if her sleeping pod had failed and locked her in deep sleep? She’d taken one for the team! She contributed something to the world beyond almost bringing home a Silver in 36! Did you? Not that the press had cared about that. They could talk about Aperture, and their impression of its inner workings all they wanted. None of them however truly understood the nature of what one journalist had so pretentiously dubbed modus operandi aperturae, Aperture’s Way of Doing Things. They wouldn’t complain so damn much.

They’d managed to survive the Senate hearings in ‘68, but their reputation, and by extension their finances, were a whole nother story. The nerve of actually paying people, especially these people, to do what Olympians had desperately applied to do not that long ago…

Black Mesa had already been a thorn in his side, but now, with Aperture’s Reputation in the gutter, it wasn’t like anyone would have cared. The courts might have cared about IP theft, but the public didn’t, and besides, what lawyer could they afford?

But alas, there was Science to do. Repulsion Gel was already showing promising results, and with the moon landings along the way, Johnson saw the potential for a true Aperture revival. Black Mesa would never see it coming. Especially this fresh meat of an administrator of theirs. He knew how to read a book, but only Cave Johnson could play ball. 1975 would not be a year of stagnation.

Part 3: According to an Octopus, or a Medusa (Whichever you prefer)

For one woman, 1975 was the beginning of a new Era.

Her work in the past decades was paying off, even if her boss hadn’t seen the extent of it yet. Her greatest invention, the portal testing chamber, had become the gold standard. The existing portal technology was already well beyond what the folks at Black Mesa were even dreaming of – and she wasn’t just guessing, corporate espionage was a forte of hers. Zero point energy field manipulation, while never progressing beyond lifting small objects directly in front of the user, had been thought impossible by most of Black Mesa’s top “experts”.

Even larger-mass teleportation was still in Aperture’s favor. The Borealis Project, while largely considered a failure by those who worked on it closest, had proven the possibility of teleportation, and the remoteness of Arbeit Communications, whose acquisition she’d managed, had kept the worst of it a secret. Even the few Black Mesa spies she’d caught didn’t know. And she knew how to get them to squeal.

This new hire at Black Mesa. He was cute, naïve, still seeing himself as the man who would guide the world to greatness. All of the idealism, and none of the experience to boot. She knew the drill. Start off cordial, try to befriend him, juuuuust long enough to get him to show any weaknesses he had.

He’d even visited Aperture a few times. Each time he’d found something to comment on - always just the thing to get on Cave Johnson’s nerves. Johnson’s strategy, nine times out of ten, was to copy another well known Johnson (who people quickly learned to never ever ask him about), that is to say, get right in their faces. Too close for comfort. Had he and Breen gotten any closer, they might have kissed. That would be fun to see.

She thought about that way too often. Breen talked a big game, but Cave Johnson’s mouth was a beast unto itself. That sad excuse for a man would never know what hit him. Was it healthy, normal, to be thinking about her boss and his rival making out passionately? Yes, she decided one day as she took a drag of a well earned cigarette. Yes it was.

Oh, but things got heated all the time, of course. For all his talk of “evolving humanity beyond its basest of impulses”, Breen was more than happy to indulge in a shouting match with his rival over the phone. She’d taken the liberty to write down some insults she thought of throughout the day. What could she say, it was great stress relief.

In the past, her way to cope with whatever Cave Johnson had thought to do that day (and there were many of those days) was to find a closet she’d snuck an old couch into, and scream as loud as she could into the pillows. Over time however, that strategy (and her vocal cords) began to work less and less. Thankfully, now she had her own brand new punching bag.

As far as she knew, the two rivals had never come to kiss each other. Or if they had, she hadn’t gotten to watch. What a shame, she thought. Her insight on this man, however, had come to pay off. She’d learned the ins and outs of what made this man tick. And she’d learned to play her cards right.

“Doctor Breen”, as he always insisted on being called, certainly knew how to talk to important men in suits. Securing contracts, making connections, slow incremental steps, even she recognized he had a talent there. But even he fell victim to that age-old need to be known. Anyone, if they talked just the right game, could string him along whatever path they wanted, and he’d go willingly.

So why didn’t Caroline do the same? She’d been the impetus and the drive to acquiring Arbeit after all. Even after Cave Johnson would go on to keel over with his lunar fascination, secrecy became the new modus operandi aperturae. But therein was the true difference between the two: while Breen understood the value of confidentiality, or rather that it had some non-zero value, Caroline understood that secrecy was meaningless without obscurity. No one would ever try to investigate you if they did not know who you were.

She’d cut her teeth on Aperture’s operations and ownership of the Arbeit facility, its existence and location kept secret even to most employees of Aperture, and the extent of its research kept secret to most who worked at Arbeit. Cave had let her turn it into her own little playground, perfect for thought experiments and ideas that even her boss might not have approved.

It was her idea however, long after Cave Johnson and his ways, to run Aperture on that principle. You never quite know who you’ll have to hide this from later on, she insisted. If time travel exists, they’re already listening in.

Caroline ended up being far more right about that, and about Wallace Breen, than even she could have imagined back in 1975.

#portal #portal 2 #portal stories mel #portal secret santa #half life #half life 2 #entropy zero 2 #caveline #cave x breen #38's fics #fleechin writes #cave johnson #caroline portal #wallace breen

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howlsofbloodhounds · 6 months ago

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So this is part 2 of this post, if yall wanna give it a read for context.

In this post, I’ll be talking about how Color’s physical disability of having only one eye would influence how he interacts with his special interests in photography and travel.

As well as how his PTSD, autism, chronic fatigue, and separation anxiety from Killer could also affect things.

With one eye, Color might have reduced depth perception, which could make it challenging to gauge distances accurately. He might rely more on autofocus features, practice to enhance his spatial awareness, or use techniques like focus stacking for precise shots.

He might prefer using cameras with electronic viewfinders (EVF) or live view screens rather than optical viewfinders, which could be more challenging to use with one eye. Adjusting camera settings and composing shots via a larger display would be easier.

He might develop unique framing and composition techniques, leveraging his perspective creatively. Color could take extra time to ensure his shots are well-composed, possibly using grid overlays or other aids to help with alignment.

Customizing camera gear to suit his needs, such as using tripods, stabilizers, or remote controls, to help steady the camera and compose shots more comfortably.

He might spend additional time in post-processing to correct any minor misalignments or issues that arise from the reduced depth perception during the shooting process.

For travel, navigating unfamiliar places might require more caution, especially in crowded or complex environments. He might use mobility aids, rely on GPS and mapping apps, or travel with companions to ensure safety.

Color could engage in meticulous planning to minimize unexpected challenges, such as researching accessible routes, accommodations, and transportation options.

Color might use his experiences and perspective to connect with others, sharing how his disability influences his travel and photography, fostering understanding and empathy.

Developing strategies to cope with the physical demands of travel, such as pacing himself, taking regular breaks, and prioritizing destinations or activities that are less physically demanding.

His unique perspective could inspire him to create compelling stories or advocacy pieces about accessibility in travel and photography, raising awareness and inspiring others with disabilities.

Embracing his distinct view of the world, his photography could offer unique perspectives that stand out, turning his perceived limitation into an artistic advantage.

He might become involved in communities focused on accessible travel and photography, sharing tips, experiences, and inspiring others with similar challenges.

Autism and chronic fatigue would likely significantly impact Color’s ability to engage with his special interests in photography and travel.

In photography, chronic fatigue would necessitate careful energy management. Color might plan shorter, more focused photography sessions and prioritize rest to avoid burnout.

Streamlining his workflow, from setting up equipment to post-processing, to conserve energy. This could include using presets in editing software or organizing his gear for easy access.

He could chose photography locations that are easily accessible and require minimal physical exertion. He might also prefer locations close to home or base to reduce travel time and energy expenditure.

He would likely use ightweight equipment to reduce physical strain, possibly investing in high-quality but compact cameras and lenses. He might also use monopods or lightweight tripods for additional support.

Autism can come with sensory sensitivities. Color might choose quieter, less crowded locations for photography and use noise-canceling headphones or other tools to manage sensory overload.

With travel, he’d have to pace himself. Planning travel with built-in downtime to rest and recharge. He might avoid overly ambitious itineraries and allow for flexible scheduling to accommodate his energy levels.

He’d probably chose ccommodations that are comfortable, quiet, and accessible, ensuring he has a safe space to retreat to when needed.

He’d prefer modes of transportation that offer comfort and minimal stress, such as direct flights, train travel, or driving. He might also opt for private or semi-private tours to control the pace and environment.

Keeping up with healthcare needs, including regular check-ups, medication management, and any necessary accommodations. He might also carry a travel health kit tailored to his specific needs.

He’d combine photography with travel in a way that maximizes enjoyment and minimizes strain. For example, he might focus on travel photography during the golden hours (early morning and late afternoon) when conditions are optimal, and the rest of the day can be used for rest.

Creating content that reflects his experiences with autism and chronic fatigue, such as blogs, vlogs, or social media posts. This can help raise awareness and provide valuable insights to others with similar challenges.

Engaging with communities of autistic travelers and photographers to share experiences, tips, and support. This can provide a sense of camaraderie and practical advice tailored to his needs.

Establishing routines that provide predictability and reduce stress. This might include having a consistent photography and travel routine, preparing for trips well in advance, and creating checklists.

Practicing mindfulness or relaxation techniques to manage stress and sensory overload. This can help maintain focus and calm, particularly in challenging environments.

Utilizing assistive technologies, such as apps for energy tracking, sensory-friendly gear, or digital tools that aid in planning and organization.

Color’s PTSD from solitary confinement and isolation in the Void, combined with his separation anxiety towards Killer, can create a complex situation that both challenges and shapes his engagement in traveling and photography.

Color’s need to stay on the move due to PTSD makes traveling appealing, as it provides a sense of freedom and escape from confinement. However, this constant movement could also become exhausting and anxiety-inducing if it lacks purpose or stability.

His separation anxiety towards Killer might lead him to seek Killer’s company while traveling. Traveling with Killer could provide a sense of security and reduce his anxiety, but it also means his travel plans would need to align with Killer’s availability and willingness to join him.

Color might need to carefully plan his travels to ensure he has safe and familiar places to stay, reducing the unpredictability that could trigger his PTSD. Having a structured itinerary could help him feel more in control and less anxious.

Traveling to new and unfamiliar places might sometimes trigger memories of his isolation, especially if he encounters situations that remind him of the Void. He would need to find a balance between exploring new places and ensuring his mental well-being.

Photography could serve as a therapeutic outlet, allowing Color to process and express his emotions through capturing images. It might help him make sense of his experiences and provide a way to externalize his trauma.

Color might be drawn to photographing subjects that reflect his internal state or provide a sense of solace. He could focus on themes like freedom, movement, and connection, finding meaning and healing in his work.

Having Killer around while engaging in photography could provide comfort and reduce his anxiety. Killer might even become a frequent subject in Color’s photos, symbolizing their bond and mutual support.

Color might need to develop strategies to manage his anxiety while photographing, such as taking breaks, grounding exercises, or having a trusted companion like Killer present. This would help him stay focused and engaged in his special interest.

The mutual separation anxiety between Color and Killer could strengthen their bond, as they rely on each other for emotional support. This bond could provide Color with the stability he needs to engage in his interests.

Color would need to balance his need for movement and exploration with Killer’s needs and limitations. They might develop a mutual understanding and compromise, ensuring both their well-being while pursuing their interests.

Color might prefer traveling to places where he can easily find comfort and familiarity, such as visiting friends or known locations. This reduces the stress of the unknown and helps him stay grounded.

Establishing routines or rituals while traveling and photographing can provide a sense of stability. For example, always starting the day with a specific activity or having regular check-ins with Killer can help Color manage his anxiety.

They might have frequent phone calls if Killer ever can’t join Color on his travels, at particular times of the day.

I can see Color sticking to this routine at the exact time and getting anxious and worried if Killer doesn’t call or pick up, which is likely to happen at some point simply because he has memory issues and sticking to routine is hard for him. But Color, at least for a bit, is likely to assume the worse.

Color might also keep a photograph of him and all his friends close by on his person. (I also like to think that Delta made his camera, he keeps some of Beta’s drawings with him, and also he’s memorized the recipe for Epic’s chocolate cookies.)

If he and Killer have already had their wedding by this point, he’d likely keep his ring close and near. Perhaps kissing it before bed, and fidgeting with it becomes a new comforting stim.

Over time, engaging in his special interests despite his PTSD and anxiety can help Color build resilience. Each successful trip or photography session can boost his confidence and reinforce his ability to cope with challenges.

Color might find deeper meaning in his travels and photography by using them as tools for healing and connection. Documenting his journey and sharing it with others can create a sense of purpose and community.

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deityoftherain · 6 months ago

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phases of the moon - Flower Husbands ATLA AU Fanfic

Rating: Teen

Relationship: M/M, Gen

Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Status: Completed Oneshot

Word Count: 5,388

Summary: Scott is the Tribal Prince of the Northern Water Tribe and he's not allowed to leave Agna Qel'a. Oh yeah, and his health is connected to the phases of the moon. Jimmy, on the other hand, is an ambassador, traveling back and forth between the Earth Kingdom and Scott's home. He wants nothing more than to settle down and cement his life by Scott's side. There's just one little thing he doesn't know yet...

This was written for Jelly, my artist, through @mcytblraufest!!

Full fanfic underneath the cut! Please reblog, leave kudos on the AO3 fic slash notes/likes here on Tumblr, comment either place, and etc if you enjoy the story :D

༻❀ Scott ❀༺

The times without Jimmy were always the hardest, though they were also the most abundant. Jimmy was an ambassador for the Earth Kingdom and Scott was the Tribal Prince of the Northern Water Tribe. Scott couldn’t leave his home while Jimmy traveled back and forth frequently.

Despite Scott’s better judgment, he fell in love with warm brown eyes, soft blonde hair, and sun-kissed freckles. Whenever Scott closed his eyes for too long, he could practically see the way Jimmy looked at him. Jimmy didn’t look at him like he was fragile and incapable like everyone else in Scott’s life did. It was refreshing and it was part of what drew Scott to Jimmy in the first place.

Jimmy wasn’t here now, though, and Scott had no idea when he would be back. Scott hoped no time soon for The Moon was barely a dim sliver of light in the sky. His body was currently being affected (he could feel it in his bones) and it would only get worse as it turned over completely to a New Moon. His strength would only return to him when it started to wax. Dealing with The Moon’s ever changing guidance was his price to pay for his life being saved as a newborn infant.

Scott ran his hand over the railing, using it to help keep him stabilized. Those who watched over him didn’t like him going off on his own, but he was an adult. They could do a lot of things, but they couldn’t prevent him from going on walks around the main city by himself, not that they didn’t try.

He was lost in his thoughts when he caught a glimpse of green in his peripheral vision. Green was an unusual color to see this far north because there was barely any plant life that could survive in such frigid temperatures. Plus, the standard Water Tribe clothing, both in the south and the north, were in shades of blue. Green was reserved for citizens of the Earth Kingdom.

“Jimmy?” Scott’s face lit up at the sight of his… friend wasn’t strong enough of a word, but crush didn’t quite describe what they had between them. They both knew there was more than friendship between them, but with Jimmy constantly traveling, they didn’t want to tie each other down… not that Scott had eyes for anyone else.

“Scott!” Jimmy grinned widely, waving his hand high above his head. In his other hand was a singular red poppy. While it was true that there weren’t many things that grew this far north, poppies were one of those exceptions for they were much more frost resistant than most other plants. Some people grew them themselves, but poppies were also known to pop up naturally and without human intervention.

Jimmy trekked through the snow, taking big steps to try and get to Scott quickly. His foot got caught on a particularly compact spot of snow and ice, tripping him. Jimmy fell flat on his face, laying in the snow. He propped himself up on his arms, snow now in his hair and on the fuzzy part of his heavy-duty coat.

Scott started to laugh, not out of malice but out of finding Jimmy undeniably charming. Even tripping over himself, he was simply adorable. Jimmy continued to smile, not minding the laughter. In fact, he seemed to enjoy hearing Scott’s laugh being carried by the breeze to his ears.

Jimmy held up the poppy proudly, the petals undamaged by his tumble. “It’s still okay!”

“Good job,” Scott praised, leaning against the railing. These simple moments almost allowed Scott to forget that his body’s functionings slowed, but the fatigue and general weakness were blaringly loud.

Jimmy got back to his feet and ran the rest of the way to Scott without problem. Well, that wasn’t entirely true, but he didn’t trip again and he stayed up right, so it might as well be true. Jimmy handed the poppy to Scott, who promptly tucked it behind his ear. “Thank you, Jimmy.” “A’course!” Jimmy placed his hands on the railing to help pull himself up and over to get to Scott. Scott hoped Jimmy wouldn’t notice his reliance on the railing. “I have good news.” “You returning to Agna Qel'a is always good news.” Scott took Jimmy’s hand in his, craving the contact even through gloved hands. Oh how Scott wished to remove some of their layers and cuddle close, to feel the heat of Jimmy’s skin against his.

“This is better than simply returning,” Jimmy promised, bouncing on his heels.

Scott reached toward Jimmy to dust the snow off of his hair and clothes. “Well, don’t keep me in suspense now. I’m curious.”

“I got a promotion!” Jimmy cheered, forgetting to elaborate until a few seconds later. He rushed to continue speaking when he picked up that he still had Scott mostly in the dark. “One of the other diplomats wanted to retire back to the Earth Kingdom, so there was an open position to be a full-time diplomat. I applied for the position, went through all the proper channels and even got some recommendations, and I got it! I got the job! I will be up here with you all the time now and we can be together, just like we wanted.”

Scott’s lips parted, but words failed to escape his throat. His vocal cords felt tangled up, almost like he was choking on a potential response. He stared at Jimmy with wide eyes, a wave of mixed emotions threatening to drown him. He wanted this, fuck, did he want this, but guilt and shame wormed its way into his heart. Scott has never told Jimmy about his condition. Would he want someone damaged like him?

“Is something wrong?” Jimmy seemed to shy away like Scott burned him, letting go of his hand and stepping back to give Scott room. “Did I come off too strong? Maybe I read into it wrong, or something, but I thought you wanted to be with me too-?”

“No, no, I do!” Scott panicked, though he tried not to show it. Dammit, he took too long to process. Scott didn’t want Jimmy to think his affections weren’t returned, because they were! Spirits, they were returned. “I do want to be with you. Jimmy, this is, this is fantastic news. I just, I didn’t expect-”

Before Scott could fully register what happened, Jimmy’s lips were on his. The anxiety in his chest loosened their grips as Scott melted into Jimmy’s familiar touch. He was comforting like a fuzzy blanket and gentle like a forgiving wave. Jimmy made Scott feel warm in a way that seemed impossible in the frozen tundra Scott called his home.

When they parted, Jimmy had a stupidly endearing grin and Scott was sure he mirrored Jimmy’s grin right back at him. At least, he was sure he did before his legs refused to move. It was like they were asleep, leaving Scott clinging to Jimmy. He buried his face into the crevice between Jimmy’s neck and the fluff of his coat’s hood.

Frustration overcame him, but it was mostly at himself. He hated being incapable and he hated being physically weak. He wasn’t weak! Not to inflate his own ego, but he thought he was rather intelligent. Scott was well read, he was a keen observer, he fared well in trade negotiations and smoothing over fights… he was all that and more, yet he rarely was acknowledged for these talents!

Being the Tribal Prince, one would think he was given more than dismissive respect (if one could even call it that), but he wasn’t. The Moon had saved his life as an infant, but had it been worth it? Was it worth living a life in what felt like a gilded cage?

Yes. Scott knew the answer to his own question. It was worth it, no matter how angry it got him. If he hadn’t survived, he never would have grown up and he never would have met Jimmy. Jimmy, a man with such a kind soul, a loud sense of humor, and a strong passion for what he believed in.

“I love you, Jimmy.” Scott wrapped his arms around Jimmy, his vision getting spotty. He silently prayed to The Moon to give him mercy, to give him just a bit more energy to be able to hold Jimmy close… just for a little longer, he pleaded. He knew he had been pushing it, going on a walk by himself, so close to the New Moon, but he thought he had time.

Scott knew he should make some sort of excuse and make it back to his room. He knew Cleo, the waterbender who usually assisted him, would not be pleased that he had ignored their orders to not stray far, especially alone.

“I love you too,” Jimmy replied easily, though there was a tint of confusion in his words. “Are you okay?” Jimmy’s concern was the last thing Scott could remember as he fainted in his arms, losing consciousness. At least he couldn’t feel pain if he wasn’t awake enough to register it…

༻❀ Jimmy ❀༺

Having his boyfriend go limp in his arms was not a foreseen circumstance when Jimmy went to go see his now-boyfriend. They had never officially said those words, no, but they’ve discussed it at length before. It wasn’t wise to be together and put their hearts on the line when they spent so much time apart.

That was Scott’s sentiment, anyway, but Jimmy would have been okay with the distance. They wrote back and forth, and Jimmy always did his best to travel to Agna Qel'a whenever he could. Jimmy understood Scott’s point of view, though. Why put their hearts on the line when it could be so very temporary? Jimmy had faith in them though, and he knew what his heart wanted. They fell hard for each other and they both knew it; there was no denying the care and tenderness between them. Even teasing each other, any onlooker could see their closeness.

Or, he would assume that so, but perhaps not when Scott was dangling off his shoulder. Spirits, being an earthbender would be so very useful right about now.

“What are you doing with the Tribal Prince? Who are you?” a voice sounded behind him, demanding answers. When he turned around, he was greeted by a waterbender in a fighting stance and lots of curly red hair. Based on hair color and their temperament alone, Jimmy might have guessed they were from the Fire Nation or had heritage from there, but Jimmy also knew better than to make assumptions like that.

“I’m Jimmy,” he explained quickly, “Scott’s boyfriend. I’m also a diplomat from the Earth Kingdom.” “Last name?” they interrupted sharply.

“Solidarity,” Jimmy answered before continuing what he was initially saying. “We were talking one moment and then he fainted! Do you know a healer?”

“Dammit, Scott, I told you not to…” the waterbender mumbled under their breath, voice so low that Jimmy realized that he wasn’t likely to hear any of it. “Give him to me. I’ve been attending to him every moon for years.”

“Every moon for years?” Jimmy echoed, furrowing his eyebrows. He did as he was told though, transferring Scott to their capable hands. “Why?”

“You said he was your boyfriend?” The healer stopped to glare at him. Jimmy tensed, getting the feeling that she wouldn’t believe him. He only slightly relaxed when they broke their glare and continued walking. “I’m only giving you a pass for now because I’ve heard Scott talk about you and I recognise a Jimmy Solidarity from the list of Earth Kingdom ambassadors. I would say I can’t believe he never told you, but that actually sounds like him. Self-reliant to a fault, he is.”

“Not tell me what?” Anxiety weighed heavy in his stomach as the cold nipped at him through his clothes. “And what’s your name?” “Cleo,” the healer answered as they entered a healing room. In the center of the room was a small pool of water held in a container similar to a bathtub. They set Scott’s limp body down into the water, which started to glow at Cleo’s touch. “If you are not aware of Scott’s condition, then he has chosen not to share that with you. If you two are truly together, then it should be him who shares the news with you.” Jimmy bit his tongue, gaze flicking from Cleo down to his unconscious boyfriend. He knew he wasn’t always the most observant person, and that he could be clumsy and oblivious, but he had improved a lot. Surely something this big wouldn’t have invaded him! Scott must have gone through great lengths to cover it up if such a thing has been burdening him for countless moons, as Cleo mentioned.

He sat down on one of the nearby seats as he observed Cleo, fiddling with the ruffles of his skirt. The poppy Jimmy had given Scott was still in his hair, though his long hair floated on the surface of the water. It wasn’t too spread out because the sides were held together with silver and blue bands and the back was tied into a low ponytail.

At least Cleo didn’t seem bothered by his company. In fact, they seemed to enjoy it after they relaxed from their initial hostility. The two fell into idle conversation as Cleo expertly bent the water and did whatever healing magic Jimmy didn’t know where to begin to understand. They stayed for hours like that and, at some point, Jimmy succumbed to sleep, unable to keep his eyelids open any longer.

༻❀ Scott ❀༺

Scott gasped sharply as he awoke, shooting upright and leaving the sound of dripping water in his wake. A shiver was sent down his spine as wet hair stuck to his back and face. He had been stripped of his clothes, but it didn’t bring him unusual discomfort. Scott was used to the removal of his layers for better access to his skin, especially on new moons.

“Good, you’re awake,” Cleo greeted him, her voice grabbing his attention. “I was wondering how long it would take you to wake up this time.” Scott choked on nothing, shame flushing his cheeks. Cleo’s words implied that he was out for a few days, which only happened when he had pushed himself too far and taken advantage of The Moon’s kindness. “I’m sorry, Cleo. I didn’t mean-” Cleo put her hand up to silence him and Scott took the hint. He clamped his jaw shut and stared down at his submerged hands. Tui, The Moon Spirit in the form of a koi fish, rubbed against his hand while La, The Ocean Spirit, created gentle ripples on the water’s surface, much like little waves. He smiled softly, running his fingers gently over Tui’s scales while muttering soft prayers and gratitude towards The Moon Spirit.

Scott knew that they had brought him to the Spirit Oasis as soon as he awoke enough to register sensory input. Even if the unnaturally warm weather for this far north wasn’t any indication, the two koi fish that swam around would prove it. He let his gaze wander to the lush landscape and allowed himself to enjoy the inviting and peaceful atmosphere the Spirit Oasis brought. Scott felt closer to The Moon Spirit here, not only in physical closeness, but spiritually as well.

“You never told me that you and Jimmy were officially boyfriends,” Cleo murmured, only sounding partly upset at the news as she started to dry Scott’s hair off with a towel. The two had grown rather close over the years, confiding in each other about a multitude of things in their lives. There was very little the two didn’t discuss, but there were times they had to stay formal in order to keep their healing arrangement secure.

Scott’s heart fluttered blissfully in his chest, unable to keep his cheeks from flushing. “He called me his boyfriend?”

“That he did.” Cleo smirked with a mild snort of amusement to accompany it. “New thing, then?”

“Yes, it only happened recently,” Scott confirmed with a nod. “Us actually getting together, anyway. We’ve been seeing each other for a while, and I planned to tell you, but- wait, Jimmy! I was with him!”

Scott whipped his head around frantically, hoping to spot soft blonde hair or flashes of green garments within the secluded cave. Cleo removed the towel and placed their hands on either side of his head to stop him from moving. “Careful, The Moon is only just starting to wax. You need to rebuild strength.” Scott obeyed, knowing Cleo was only looking out for him, but he still didn’t like it. He huffed softly, but did as he was told. She helped him to his feet and wrapped a large towel around his shoulders before helping him out of the pond. His bare feet brushed against the grass and he hummed a pleased tune. Scott only ever experienced grass here for the rest of the Northern Water Tribe’s territory was made of ice and snow. Not that Scott was ever allowed to leave the main city of Agna Qel'a.

His fondness for the grass grew bitter as he recalled the reasons for why he could never leave. Scott would like to travel the world with Jimmy by his side, perhaps go to the Earth Kingdom and see the place Jimmy called home, but he was forbidden. They claim it was for his safety, but had The Moon Spirit really intended for his life to be like this? Scott supposed there must be truth to what he was told. The Spirit Oasis was one of the most spiritual places in the Northern Water Tribe and it was where The Moon Spirit chose to keep a physical form, swimming in an eternal dance of push and pull with The Ocean Spirit. If Scott tried to leave, tried to run away, would he live to make it to the Earth Kingdom? It was a risk he wasn’t sure he could take.

Cleo tried to aid him in dressing himself, but he refused their help because he had enough strength to do it himself. Once dried and dressed, Scott asked again, “Where is Jimmy? How is he?”

“He is okay,” Cleo promised. “He brought you to me and insisted on staying by your side. To be honest, I let him stay until it was time to move you here. He was quiet when I told him to be and he did as he was told. As an outsider, I couldn’t allow him to come with me, so he should be back at the Earth Kingdom embassy. If he is not there, then he is likely doing other diplomatic duties. He… he cares about you a lot and it was nice to be able to talk to him myself after hearing you gush about him for so long.” Scott knew she was only teasing, but the teasing had truth to it. He tried to ignore his blush as he ran his fingers through his hair. Cleo smirked softly, retrieving a hairbrush that Scott hadn’t noticed and tutting at him to turn around. He obeyed, moving so his back was to her, and she started to brush out his blue locks. As she did so, she stated, “I approve, by the way. I mean, he tends to stumble over himself, sure, but he’s charming. I see why you like him, and I think you two are a good fit.”

“Thank you, Cleo.” Scott blushed a darker red, but, instead of embarrassment, he blushed from appreciation and joy. He felt loved and cared for, and it was a fantastic feeling. “That means a lot. Especially coming from you.”

“Of course, Scott.” Cleo barked out a laugh, though there was a fondness to their voice. “I know I can be hard on you, but that’s just my job as your healer and your best friend. At the end of the day, I just want you to be happy. He seems to make you happy, and it’s clear you’re both helplessly in love with each other, so, naturally, I approve.”

Scott opened his mouth to respond, but his stomach growled loudly instead. He put a hand to his stomach, wrinkling his nose. Cleo clicked her tongue as she finished brushing his hair and tucked the few things scattered around nearby into her bag. “Let’s get you some food and I’ll go track down your boyfriend, okay? You two probably need to have a long talk about, well, you know.” Scott sighed deeply, his muscles growing tense as he started to imagine the different ways that scenario could play out. There was no use to pushing it off for very long, but it couldn’t hurt to eat uninterrupted, could it? “Can you get him after I finish eating? I just need some time to think alone… to think about what I’m going to say first.”

Cleo pursed her lips for a moment before nodding. “Very well.”

༻❀ Jimmy ❀༺

Jimmy paced back and forth in his room after getting out of far too many meetings. The meetings weren’t the subject of his worry. At least they weren’t this time. He was good at what he did after years of experience and practice. There were times he put his foot in his mouth or got too worked up, sure, but he wasn’t the only diplomat from the Earth Kingdom here. His weaknesses were balanced out by others’ strengths. Besides, the Fire Nation diplomats tended to cause more problems than him, allowing him more wiggle room to mess up.

Usually after a day of meetings, Jimmy would collapse on his bed and take a long nap, but he was worried about Scott. It had been way too many days since Scott collapsed in his arms with far too few answers. Jimmy had felt more relieved when Cleo allowed him to be by Scott’s side, but, ever since Cleo no longer allowed Jimmy’s presence, his anxiety spiked.

What was this mystery thing Cleo had mentioned? Jimmy could only assume it was some sort of chronic illness, but why wouldn’t Scott tell him about it? They’ve spent so many late nights cuddled by the warmth of a fire (in the properly designated spots made of materials other than ice, don’t worry, they weren’t foolish) and baring their souls to each other, yet this had never come up!

Or perhaps it had and Jimmy didn’t notice? He could recall times Scott mentioned little things that Jimmy always brushed off as temporary, but perhaps those were symptoms to some sort of chronic disease? Surely it was manageable and he would be alright, right? He couldn’t be dying or Cleo would have told him! He hoped they would tell him if it was that dire, anyway.

The sound of Jimmy’s footsteps echoed off the walls with his furious pacing, the swoosh of his skirt accompanying it. His personal room in the embassy was designed to look more like a bedroom typically found in the Earth Kingdom, making it feel more like home and less like outside was an endless winter. The fireplace crackled and gave off enough warmth for Jimmy to go without his coat and thick wool leggings, leaving him in his long, layered skirt and tank top.

Without the extra clothing to keep him warm, it was something he would wear back at the Earth Kingdom. It reminded him of his home growing up, with his brothers and sister. Spirits, he missed them. He missed Grian’s pranks, Pearl’s lightheaded quips, and Martyn’s teasing jabs… but, even if he wished to go back, wished to leave his life behind here and leave Scott, there was no going back. They were all adults and all had their own lives going on.

Grian was traveling around the Earth Kingdom with his long-term boyfriend, Scar, in their “Swaggon” or whatever Scar called it. Grian had the habit of collecting shiny and interesting objects (as did Scar, to be fair), so they always had several momentos to showcase their travels.

Pearl teamed up with two of her good friends, Etho, a fellow Earth Kingdom resident, and Tango, a Fire Nation citizen, to work on a project to better connect the Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation through communication. It all went over Jimmy’s head, but they had been making rather large strides in their quick transportation of mail and other goods. Plus, last he heard, she had been getting rather friendly with a firebender named Gem. Pearl has always been one to make a lot of friends, but there was a noticeable difference in her behavior when regarding Gem. Tango vouched for Gem when Martyn went into protective big brother mode, so that gave Jimmy some peace of mind, at least.

Speaking of Martyn, he was doing “absolutely fantastic, mate! Don’t worry your silly little head about it” last he heard. Martyn and his husband, Ren, were still going strong and had even opened up a business specializing in spiritual and physical protection, enchantments, and other related items together.

All of his siblings were happy where they were, and Jimmy was happy for them. Hell, he was happy for himself, too! At least, he would be if he wasn’t overtaken by worry-

The sharp knock at his door cut off his thoughts and caused Jimmy to jump, startled by the sudden noise. “Who's there?” “Jimmy, I need to talk to you.” The voice was muffled from the door between them, but Jimmy would recognize Scott’s accent and tone inflections anywhere.

He wasted no time to open the door and embrace Scott, paying no mind to the rush of cool air from the hallway. Jimmy pulled Scott close, suppressing the urge to jump with joy. “Scott! You’re okay! I was, oh, man! I was so worried, and you- well, you-”

“Jimmy, love, breathe.” Scott tried to sooth, placing one hand firmly on Jimmy’s shoulder while the other cupped his face. “Deep breaths. I’m okay.” Jimmy melted into Scott’s touch, taking a deep breath and then another. He continued until the unsettling rattling in his chest subsided. He leaned into Scott, who rubbed gentle circles on his back.

“I’m sorry for worrying you,” Scott tried to keep his voice from cracking, his voice barely above a whisper, “and I’m more sorry for not telling you about… that. I just… I should have told you.”

“Yes, you should have.” Jimmy picked himself enough to stand by himself, but he couldn’t stay angry at Scott for long. He gave him a bittersweet smile before gesturing inside. “Maybe tell me about it now? We could cuddle?” Scott hesitated a moment, inwardly beating at himself before giving in to Jimmy’s desires. He matched the smile with a soft hum of agreeance. Scott entered Jimmy’s room, stripping himself of his coat, and Jimmy closed the door behind him. He stumbled a bit, still weak from whatever came over him, but Jimmy caught his arm and helped him to Jimmy’s bed.

“Cleo was going to fetch you for me, but I convinced them to let me come to you instead.” A defeated half-laugh left Scott’s lips as he tugged at his hair. “If we didn’t get along so well most of the time, I wouldn’t be allowed out of my room after such an episode.”

“An episode?” Jimmy prompted, pulling Scott so close to him that he was practically laying in his lap.

“My… condition doesn’t work like most peoples’ tend to,” Scott started to explain, staring straight ahead as he continued to fidget with his hair. “That makes sense, I suppose, because my condition isn’t caused by normal illnesses or defects. I’m not supposed to be alive, but The Moon Spirit took pity on my parents and allowed me to live. My life source is connected to The Moon, so, the closer it gets to a New Moon, the less energy I have. Does that make sense?” Jimmy considered Scott’s words for several moments, recalling past information and committing the new information to memory. Finally, he nodded to indicate he understood. Still, he inquired, “Why didn’t you tell me?” “I was afraid,” Scott admitted. “Afraid that you would reject me or start treating me differently. Or not want me because I’m… I’m damaged, or something.” “Why would I do that?” Jimmy furrowed his eyebrows, genuinely confused. “Scott, you’re amazing! You’re not damaged, not to me! Why would, I just-?”

Scott stuttered a laugh, twisting his body to bury his face in Jimmy’s chest. The stuttering laugh turned into a sob, any words he attempted to speak getting stuck in his throat.

Jimmy bit his lip harshly, tightening his grip around Scott. He buried the lower half of his face in Scott’s hair, murmuring sweet nothings and comforts to his boyfriend to help him through what was clearly a hard and sensitive subject.

“You’re one of the only people who don’t treat me like glass, treat me like I’m weak. I hate being seen as fragile and incapable. I am very capable, yet people dismiss me just because they view physical capability as a representative of mental strength. I have a lot to say and contribute, but no one will hear me out!” The longer Scott spoke, the more infuriated he sounded. His hands balled into fists and his jaw clenched before forcefully relaxing. He let out a long breath and glanced up at Jimmy through his eyelashes, tears starting to obscure his vision. “I didn’t want you to start seeing me that way. I thought that, if you knew, you would start and… and maybe you wouldn’t love me anymore.”

“‘Wouldn’t love you anymore’?” Jimmy parroted, astonished and taken aback by the thought. “Scott, of course I love you! If I didn’t love you, I wouldn’t have fought so hard to be by your side. You told me you couldn’t leave Agna Qel'a, so I made it my mission to come to you. I can’t imagine a life without you.”

Scott rubbed at his eyes to try and dry the tears. “Promise?” “Promise,” Jimmy confirmed, tone confident and sure. He cupped Scott’s cheek, using his thumb to help wipe away the tears that continued to trail down his face. “Chin up, Scott. Defeated and small isn’t a good look on you. The Scott I know is confident and lights up a room. He would look unshakeable, intimidatingly so because he’s just that clever! I envy you sometimes because you make it look so effortless, which is a talent in itself because I know it’s not.”

“You think far too highly of me.” The ends of Scott’s lips twitched up and a laugh fluttered in his chest.

“Impossible,” Jimmy claimed boldly, a grin wide on his face. “How can I think too highly of someone so wonderful that The Moon itself considers them worthy?”

Scott’s smile grew as he raised his chin. They stared into each other's eyes for several moments. Their eyecontact didn’t break even as Scott straightened his arms to help push him up, allowing their lips to meet for a brief, chaste kiss. “I love you, Jimmy. Words cannot describe how much I love you.”

“I love you too, Scott,” Jimmy promised. “I love you to the moon and back.” Scott snorted, ducking his head as he burst into a fit of giggles. “Spirits, that was cheesy.”

Jimmy’s first instinct was to be embarrassed, but this was Scott. Scott had a way of teasing him in a way that made him still feel loved and cherished. “You love me.” “I do,” Scott confirmed without a pause. He slackened the effort in his arms, falling down to be against Jimmy’s chest once more. Jimmy welcomed him with open arms, feeling fulfilled and blissful.

The stress and anxiety that had clawed at him melted away like ice held to a flame, from caution to genuine love and care… genuine love and care like what he and Scott shared. Jimmy scratched his fingers in Scott’s hair, which brought a soft noise of content from Scott.

They were safe, they were together, and they were loved. What more could they need?

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enden-k · 1 year ago

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─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. kvthm fantasy AU stuff ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

a more compact/organized post about my au mostly for myself where i keep all the infos and lore i posted so far in one + links to specific comics or doodles i did [will update over time]

i first started posting my AU on april 19, rlly feels like ages ago 🥹

set in a (well, even more) fantastical version of sumeru. theres a curse going wild for a long time, and no cure so far. no one knows where, when or why it spread, only that once someone becomes cursed, all that awaits is death.

kaveh, the prince of sumeru, is cursed since birth and can no longer bear to sit and wait for his end to come; especially with his mother watching him fall more and more to the curse to the point it hurts her just looking at him. he doesnt want to cause her pain and make her watch him grow weak and die; he rather wants to use the time left to find a way to break the curse, to save the others that still have a chance for a cure unlike him who is doomed to die and turn into a shadowy creature to haunt the lands.

his journey leads him to a certain, mysterious witch who came up with a spell to freeze the curse for some time - it needs to be redone regularly though to stall it. driven by his interest and curiosity in the curse and the prince, the witch agrees on accompanying kaveh on his travels; renewing the spell to give kaveh more time while pursuing the truth and origin of the curse. on their travels, they also meet a certain forest watcher and his partner, and a mercenary who become a part of their small group, and together they journey all across of sumeru in search of a way to break the curse for once and all, saving their loved ones.

the curse

its origin is unknown so far. once someone becomes cursed, they fall sick and slowly but painfully wither away as it spreads over their body. shadowy, bark-like markings spread over the body, skin and joints growing stiff and painful to move

the curse feeds on the bodies energy until it switches to the persons soul to devour it next and turn them into a mindless shadowy creature. usually the body cant handle it anymore though; the cursed one dies from weakness and their organs failing before their souls can be devoured. coma is the final stage before the body ultimately breaks down, taking the curse "safely" with them in death. once cursed, there is no "easy" way out of it. unnatural death while the curse is still active and powerful, feeding on the persons energy, will unleash it and curse everyone and everything around it. the curse is known to take, to wither everything and everyone away - the only thing that doesnt wither away are mourning flowers. those flowers bloom as long as the curse is active and festering and they start to wilt more the weaker the curse gets; therefore, the closer death is. people use those flowers to measure the time left they are able to spend with their loved cursed ones until they die to the curse. people believe the curse is what keeps the flower blooming and as soon as the body gets weaker which in turns makes the curse lose its power as well (since it cant feed on the body any longer), the flower starts to wilt more and more as well just like the cursed one until they both die. this is why some people bury their loved cursed ones with the flower as a symbol of protection for their souls in the afterlife. so far there seems no way to cure or fight the curse other than succumbing to it and taking it to the grave. still, kaveh wants to try and find a way while he can.

ㅤㅤ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ kaveh ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

a prince born cursed, the way it works on and in him differs from others. like the others, he constantly feels pain and on some days even weakness where he can barely hold anything; those seem to be the days when the curse advances on his body to devour some more of him. unlike the others hes still withstanding it though and doesnt show the other usual symptoms such as chronic fatigue and weakness, sickness, etc. because of being born cursed, his body seems to be used to living with it; the curse has started devouring his body and soul simultaneously already. it means his body will hold out until his soul is fully devoured. he is doomed to fall to the curse and lose himself. there are records of people who were like him, born cursed, and those have turned into shadowy mindless beasts that roam the lands, killing everyone and everything in their way once body and soul were devoured. the day that kaveh dies to the curse, his body will be controlled by the curse alone once it took over his soul and hurt everyone. he desperately wants to stop that with all his power; not to come out of this alive or have a peaceful death but to save people from the curse and the danger of himself once he turned. its not like he doesnt mind dying or doesnt wish to come out alive. its just after all those years of anger and hurt and constant questions on why him, he had started to accept his fate. he still wishes to find a way, at least for everyone else, to save them from the curse and from himself. his father also died to the curse when he was still young. now that he is also cursed, he cant bear seeing his mother in such emotional pain as they both wait for his death. instead of appreciating the time hes still there, it seems she is mourning already and he doesnt want to cause her more pain by simply being near her. its why he sets out in the middle of the night and leaves the capital without looking back.

he wears the mourning flowers in his hair to keep an eye on his condition and time left while hes on his journey. he loves to paint and dance; because of the curse and the pains that come with it periodically, he cant hold a quill for too long though. he wields his claymore by himself (yes) when he is able to; when the pain strikes, his fathers dagger strapped to his hip is his choice of weapon to defend himself.

ㅤㅤ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ al-haitham ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

a mysterious witch living completely unbothered in solitude. when he was young, he was banned and cast out from the witches realm in the forest for breaking one of the 6 rules, committing a sin. outside of that, little is known about him other than him being the most proficient in anything regarding spells, curses and ancient languages; some say he is able to speak all the languages known - though if that is true, only he knows. however, if asked how many languages he can actually speak, he will answer with a random number each time - or none at all, depending on his mood. (everything he does seems to be depending on his mood) witches are known to live in their realm, safe and separated from the rest of sumeru, rarely getting involved with others as in the past they often got taken away and have their powers misused by foul people. so its completely surprising to see one of them living unbothered outside of the realm, avoiding people but not hostile or fearful when approached. his grandmother fell victim to the curse. as a child, he tried his everything to become strong and study a lot, to come up with a spell to relieve her pains and break the curse. he dove deep into the study of curses and ancient runes, deep enough to reach something he was not supposed to see, in order to learn the origin of the curse to weave a spell to counter it. he did not manage to do that but he did come up with the beginnings of a spell that can halt curses for some time. it came too late though because his grandmother had passed away. shortly after, he was banned from the realm for studying the origins in order to learn the truth about the curse and how to break it. banishment serves as a way to protect; if a witch commits too many of the sins, the power of knowledge might corrupt and destroy them. the rules exist to rein the thirst and curiosity in; to protect from the truths. despite everything, haitham never ceased his studies. the older the word, the more power it holds; so basically by being a nerd he grew really strong in magical powers so there is no need for him to feel fear outside of the realm. he also knows perfectly well how to wield a sword (he has one) and how to kick ass without magic or weapons. hes completely capable on his own. haitham does the barest minimum out of comfort and doesnt reveal anything about himself which often leads to people (who dont know him) to underestimate and mistake him for the feeble mage he likes to call himself - much to their regret.

he enjoys to mess with kaveh and doesnt care if he is a prince or cursed (which kaveh actually enjoys but would never admit it, since ppl usually treat him different because he is the prince and cursed) and decides to accompany him on his journey out of his own interest in the curse, its origin and the truths, but also in kaveh - developing feelings for him and his early motivations changing later on.

haitham is able to understand animals and other creatures - mehrak and kavehs beast form included.

ㅤㅤ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ beast kaveh and corrupted haitham ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

now, despite haitham being able to buy kaveh more time with his spell, some time on their journey a huge incident accelerates the curse, about to claim kaveh in the end. haitham is struck by fear for the first time and decides to try one last thing no matter how much of a risk it is.

he succeeds and manages to rein in the uncontrolled flow of the curse in kavehs body. since he was in the process of turning completely and losing himself to the curse, kaveh gains the ability to freely change between his cursed beast form and his normal, human form.

he is completely stable of mind and himself but his speech is a garbled whispery mess in non human language so he cant communicate with others except with haitham.

haitham on the other hand took a great risk with changing the flow; by interfering with life and death he committed another sin and exposed himself to the curse during the ritual. he took the damage on the mind and soul that was meant for kaveh; basically splitting the curse between them, risking corruption more and more - if it didnt start already.

[ the others will get added here over time/more lore or other info, this is just the main post and constantly in work ig (i rlly need to sleep now byeeee) ]

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. links ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

✦ tiny more or less beginning comic

✦ haitham gets turned into a cat by accident (kitty witch haitham arc)

✦ haitham lore (grandma)

✦ forest spirit mehrak

✦ tighnari, cyno, haitham, dehya (the squad around prince kaveh)

✦ haitham likes to simply take kavehs stuff and here is why

✦ general tag for all my fantasy AU doodles (sfw) (not sfw is on other blog, 18+ only)

#fantasy au #own art #tppbw

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transgenderer · 7 months ago

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i finished my mole book and immediately ordered another mole book off amazon (just realized i forgot to check if it was on libgen. the first one wasnt. well. whatever. it was 12 bucks). im molepilled. im molemaxxing. some facts from my mole book (moles by rob atkinson). non-indented mine

Vertebrae in the mole's chest region (the thoracic vertebra) can move so that they allow the mole to bend and rotate its chest through angles of up to 90 degrees relative to the lower back, far more than those of the rat which can only reached 15-18 degrees

One mole travelled above ground for more than a kilometer to a stream to a drink, and unerringly all the way back

Mole very occasionally build much larger hills, about a meter long and 30 centimeters tall. Usually there's a nest inside, and an earthworm cache. Scientists aren't sure why they build them. it seems like it's probably for flooding and maybe insulation in thin soil, but even in areas prone to flooding only 5% of moles build fortresses, and in general it's even less. So that's weird. Probably theyre just very expensive to build, so only the healthiest/luckiest moles can afford to build them

Female moles are entirely female with completely normal mating behavior, pregnancy, and birth, but, uniquely among mammals, they have 'ovotestes', rather than simply ovaries. Ovotestes are reproductive organs divided into testicular and ovarian tissue. The ovarian tissue produces the egg and sits on a larger mass of testicular tissue. This testicular tissue does not produce sperm but it does produce testosterone.... Interestingly, the presence of a penis-like clitoris in many moles is not related to the presence of ovotestes since some American species have the former but not the latter.

Outside the breeding season the testicular tissue is active in producing testosterone while the ovarian portion is regressed and the womb flaccid and small. As the breeding season starts, the testicular tissue shrinks, testosterone production reduces, the ovaries become active, and the womb enlarges. As she nears mating time the female develops a transverse, crescent-shaped slit behind her urinary papilla, between it and the anus. This slit opens into the vagina and allows for penetration by the male and mating it closes up, leaving a small scar

Over 50% of the mole population is under 1 year old. The death probability is consistent over time, so mole's have a "half life" of one year, although they've been found up to 7 years old. Their population triples by the end of breeding season, so the vast majority have to die.

When digging beneath snow, moles may, at least temporarily, be unaware of where the soil stops and the snow starts. After the snow has melted, half-tunnels have sometimes been seen at what was once the soil/snow interface, but even more strangely, tunnels have been found running through snow itself! Actually, I think it is possible that a mole breaking out from the soil into the snow may continue digging for some time before realizing there is no food. Snow is much easier to dig tan soil and likely compacts itself into the tunnel walls, leaving little or no residue for the mole to push up into 'snowhills'.

I feel like my big takeaway was that mole life is horribly cheap. like bugs that way. humans make stuff out of their fur despite how small they are. they used to be killed en masse with strychnine although that's illegal now in the UK. kinda sad stuff

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skz-sarang · 6 months ago

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. . . - ̗̀ ౨ৎ WHAT’S ? ! ? IN MY 👜 BAG ، . ˓ ִֶָ 𖥔

Lovey is a girl with a lot of style, and she has a particular love for accessories, especially bags and shoes, she has a wardrobe full of them galore.

she has many bags, of various sizes, each for a different situation, for example, to go out in the evening she uses rather small handbags, and very often of known brands such as miu miu, prada, chanel or so on. Very often gifted by other members ambassadors of certain brands, such as the two louis vuitton bags given to Sarang by Felix.

to go out daily instead, she prefers a bag large enough to let in everything she needs. The bag he currently uses is a puffer tote bag of the brand ‘my mum made it’ in cream color.

౨.&&. . . ELECTRONIC SUPPLIES! ⋆ ｡ ˚ ⋆

... iphone, ipad, airpods, airpods max ... in short, sarang is a apple products’ lover (she also has the apple watch on her wrist !! ) . In addition to the phone, which explains itself, lovey carries the iPad in her bag every day, because it helps her to work, recording her own rehearsals or taking notes for new lyrics; and headphones because her life is made of music, and she can’t do anything without it. It also has a charger and a powerbank.

౨.&&. . . GLASSES! ⋆ ｡ ˚ ⋆

Sarang has vision problems, which is why he uses eyeglasses. A pair of spare glasses, with contact lenses and eye drops, can’t be missing in his bag. Plus a pair of branded sunglasses for the sunniest days.

౨.&&. . . BEAUTY ESSENTIALS! ⋆ ｡ ˚ ⋆

Lovey never leaves home without a collection of beauty essentials to keep her looking fresh and fabulous throughout the day. Her bag includes: lip balm and lip gloss to keep her lips moisturized and shiny, compact mirror for quick touch-ups, Hand cream to ensure her hands are always soft and smooth, Travel-sized perfume and a little Makeup pouch with items like mascara, eyeliner, and a mini brush set for any necessary touch-ups.

౨.&&. . . WELLNESS ITEMS! ⋆ ｡ ˚ ⋆

Health and wellness are important to Lovey, so she carries a few essential items to take care of herself: hand sanitizer, wet wipes, pads and tampons, tissues, first aid kit (Including band-aids, pain relievers, and any personal medications.) She also has a baby pink reusable water bottle to stay hydrated on the go and some healthy snacks such as nuts or granola bars for a quick energy boost.

౨.&&. . . MISCELLANEOUS! ⋆ ｡ ˚ ⋆

Lovey's bag contains a variety of miscellaneous items that she finds useful such as a planner or notebook for jotting down ideas, plans, or reminders; pen and pencil for writing in her planner or notebook and hair ties and clips.

౨.&&. . . ESSENTIALS! ⋆ ｡ ˚ ⋆

Last but definitely not least there are three essentials items which Sarang can’t do without: her Keys, with a pink my melody keychain; her wallet containing her ID, her drivers license, credit cards and some cash; and the jyp badge to get into the entertainment.

Lovey's bag is a perfect reflection of her organized, stylish, and prepared personality. Each item serves a purpose, ensuring she is ready for any situation that comes her way.

!TAGLIST! : @smh-anon (send an ask to be added to the taglist!)

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eris-snow · 6 months ago

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𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐆𝐢𝐟𝐭

Tags: Revelation (Deku's birthday series 2024), izuku x fem!reader, angst, plot, class a shenanigans, filler, I'd die for Izuku, birthday, fluff

Masterlist

July 13th. Crack and break.

---

There were 3 things you knew had happened yesterday.

Number 1: Your days with him had ticked from 4 to 3. This version of Izuku would go poof in a matter of days, and you were going to miss it. Somehow, Izuku had compacted a year's worth of memories in the span of two weeks, and now, you didn’t want him to let go. This was the closest he’d ever got to remembering you, thrashing against binds and battering against an unbreakable wall. You’ll miss it, of course you would.

You’ve never seen him try this hard for you.

Don’t leave me, Izuku. I’m scared of the look in your eyes when you don’t recognise me. Even if you don’t need me, even if I don’t need you, I want to stand by your side. Please don’t go. Please remember me.

Number 2: Izuku had found something

Ever since Izuku had come back from the clearing, he’d been distant. He’d found something, of course he did.

The Saviour of the world can pride himself on his unreasonable number of Quirks and excellent portfolio, but he couldn’t lie to save his life. If there was one thing in heroing he’d be bad at, it’d be undercover missions.

You drink coffee from the cup, shiver at the bitterness, and take another sip. You need to stop psyching yourself out, otherwise, you’re going to combust from the inside out. Splattered organs would not look good beside a fucked up kitchen.

And the 3rd thing…

There was a student found on campus in a pool of blood.

There was no indication of an intruder, so when she was admitted into the infirmary and patched up, everyone thought she was fine until she woke up and started bawling uncontrollably.

Depressed, Recovery Girl had said, right before admitting her into the hospital. Can’t even remember how to smile.

Chisuke had been on campus.

If Izuku hadn’t left with you yesterday, that could have been him.

You highly doubt that the villain could so much as graze Izuku, but what if he’d came in at night? Lurking in the shadows, waiting for the right time to strike…you shake your head, instead pushing your thoughts to homework.

Aizawa had reassured you that everything was under control, so why couldn’t you shake the feeling that something was going to go wrong?

—

Maybe you were being paranoid, but being paranoid saved lives okay, and if you had to look at another question involving differentiating a product rule in a fraction, you’d personally find a person with a time travelling Quirk, go back in time, and strangle whoever decided they were smart enough to jam math with letters instead of numbers.

Aizawa dms you the files within an hour, and you open and devour the multi-paged document like it was the latest chapter of a manga.

Chisuke Suzuki, the younger brother of Isamu Suzuki, has a Quirk that can shut down one emotion of his choice permanently. You sit back and read through the file, eying his details carefully before you scribble some of it down.

Analysis was good, because it also was a handy distraction. From Izuku’s dazed responses, he had his own things to work through that he didn’t want to tell you. The conversation mainly went like so:

“Hello.”

“Mm, bananas.”

“Midoriya, I was going to ask if you were doing alright? You seem pretty out of it.”

“Apples are great fruits too. I think Tokoyami can help you.”

“Midoriya, if you don’t give me a proper answer, I’m gonna take Kacchan and wham you over your head.”

“Sounds fun.”

Nothing’s more frustrating than Izuku being deep in thought.

And maybe part of you, a tiny part of you, was hurt by the fact that Izuku didn’t even think of telling you.

Shaking your head, you sigh. It doesn’t matter, it’s alright.

It’s okay, because in 3 days, Izuku won’t remember any of this at all.

—

Izuku shuffles and rereads the words in his mind once more.

Tit for tat, this for that. A brother for a brother, and pain for bits and scraps.

You want to find your memories? I understand. My Quirk is simple, very simple. Pain is not worth the weight of knowledge. Your trade is insufficient.

Try again.

“A fair trade.” He whispers, hand over his mouth as he works his way through the thoughts. “Your memories…for mine?”

Izuku shuts the thought down immediately because there’s no way that was fair. You’d kept them, held them dear to your heart and stayed by his side this entire time. You are not losing your memories to his hands.

What can I do? What can I exchange? What do I have to lose.

“Oi, idiot, you’re muttering out loud again.” Katsuki says, flopping down on a nearby beanbag. Izuku promptly ignores him.

Your trade is insufficient. Try again.

Try again.

Izuku glares down at his hands with a look that could kill, trying, but failing to find the right instrument to strike the right chord.

Other memories, perhaps?

(”Dude, is he okay? Seriously, I feel sorry for his cup, man, He could boil tea with that gaze—")

Try again.

An arm? A leg?

Try again.

His Quirk? Izuku pauses in contemplation, jerking his head up.

“Oh, he’s alive,” Shoto says tonelessly, from somewhere in the background

There’s a faint hum in his mind, an answer bubbling up to the surface, until—

Try again.

Izuku slams his head against the table.

“Bro, come on,” Kirishima whines, swiping his pancakes off the table. “My breakfast!”

“Sorry,” Izuku mutters, forcing a sheepish smile, before he dives head first back into the table.

“I think he’s lost it,” Kaminari whispers all too loudly from the safety of the couches.

Izuku chucks the pillow on his lap at Kaminari as the blond ducks.

“Haha, missed me—DUDE WHAT THE FUCK, THAT WAS A WHOLE ASS CHAIR.”

“Please get your sorry ass up to Y/n’s room and date her already.” Ochaco murmurs.

Izuku’s head shoots up from the midst of his table toppling. “What?”

“Wait no, don’t do that.” Ochaco hums seamlessly, yanking her already split coffee from the table. “Okay, you can have the table now.”

“Thanks.”

“Noo, Midoriya, man! I thought Kacchan was the mean one! Please don’t stab me with a table leg! I swear, it was just a—AHHHHH BAKUGOU FUCKING HELP. HEELLLPPPP, MIDORIYA’S GONE STIR CRAZY, HE’S MAD WITH POWER, HEL—”

—

When you walk downstairs and find your first love chasing a certain idiot blond around the living room with a whole ass table in tow, you stop and stare, before making eye contact with Ochaco. She shrugs.

Katsuki raises an eyebrow, as if to say “Why the fuck would you expect me to know?”

Izuku’s muscles are taunt and firm as he hauls the table. You watch his biceps flex, tune out Kaminari’s screaming, and lick your lips.

There’s a camera flash, and you pocket your phone.

Picture-perfect, really.

—

It’s only when Izuku returns to the dorms does his headaches come back in full force. Truthfully, he should have been expecting it. Staggering, he barely has enough time to lock his door before he falls to his knees on the ground. Everything is ice-blue, and the ringing in his ears add to the disequilibrium he’s experiencing. He’s on the floor, but he feels like the world has tilted sideways.

Pain is not worth the weight of knowledge.

He groans, and in his agony blossoms another image that tastes like blood and tears.

It’s his birthday, and the sun is out and bright. It’s his birthday, but tears are running down your cheeks, and you’re holding him like he’s dying on the battlefield and ashamed like you murdered someone with your two hands.

“Zuku, please.” You sob. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m so sorry—”

He wants to say it’s okay, wants to tell you he’s fine, but he’s frozen still.

Stop meddling.

The voice whispers, disgruntled and annoyed.

Hox wax coats his brain as he screams, easing himself down from hell. Cotten candy melting in his mouth, iridescent rainbows, fluffy clouds, beautiful skies—

There’s another loud crack, and the wall fragments even more.

He yanks himself out of his own mind, and gasps at the return.

His birthday at 10 was laid bare in front of him. His Quirk Accident.

The day he forgot you, wrapped up in a neat bow and presented to him like a birthday gift.

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