#Post War AU

[azureforreal]

It's about the little things...

[piiinkfreak]

MARYA WEEK DAY 3: PINNING

She be having them gay thoughts

[rqsser]

random buck & bucky headcanons…

gale doesn’t like morning kisses because of bad breath, but john loves them cuz they annoy gale

hand kisses are a very intimate thing to gale, they go beyond a formal greeting to him. they express his appreciation for one’s soul rather than their presence (he kisses animals paws/hooves)

john is an extrovert, quite obviously, but he can easily recognize when gale’s uncomfortable and will leave whatever outing they’re at to calm him down

john loves hunting and gale loves fishing! (in some au where they don’t have ptsd)

gale prefers vehicles in europe because he can at least sit on the left side without driving (popular, but he hates driving)

post-war au, they’d live outside of a town/city, on a ranch or near a lake, because then nobody can see them different from everyone else. (they’d say that they’re war buddies and their spouses left them while they were away, no one bats an eye)

john worships the ground that gale walks on, in a sense. when gale’s coming back inside from yard work, or exiting the shower after 30 minutes, john’ll drop whatever he’s doing to follow gale around. (related to the one just above this!!)

gale loves animals, john’s never had a pet.

after the war, gale takes up sewing as something to pass time, and to calm himself. john likes to sit behind him with his arms around his waist and watch gale’s steady hands weave together a b-17.

gale is an introvert, but people seem to gravitate towards him, just like how john’s voice seems like a promise for a good time. he doesn’t mind being in large groups, but when a bunch of people start talking to him, he gets anxious and kind of annoyed. john is quick to pull him away in those situations.

gale sews, and john cooks. he finds old recipe books that gale’s mother made before she passed, and serves gale memories.

[brookesophelias]

think about how

each five total time i read The Hunger Games Trilogy, the more times I THINK "WE WERE ROBBED" when it comes to Haymitch Abernathy & Gale Hawthorne.

IMAGINE

Gale Hawthorne: the resourceful hunter who thought his 42 slips would give him so much more than... well, nothing. (his family is still wanting, the girl he's crushing on doesn’t see him like that. HE'S A COAL MINER JUST LIKE HIS FATHER TO KEEP HIS MUM ALIVE).

of course, Gale's angry because the Capitol says all he has to is play The Game & he'll be full. But he never gets to play. He has all this anger at his government, for the sickness he sees. so much that it blinds him & all he yearns for is revenge. REVENGE is the only thing that lights him up these days!

he has no empathy for Victors—as he's unaware Haymitch doesn't allow anyone clean or cook for him, doesn't understand Haymitch sleeps with a knife every night for 25 years, & gets through the days drunk because he knows every tribute District 12 lost, the all 49 tributes he fought—when they have all the money & food he ever could dream & don’t do anything with it.

(Gale never knew Peeta's mother beat him for throwing bread to Katniss, doesn't realise Mrs. Undersee's maiden name is Donner).

so when Katniss wants to run into the woods with everyone AND Gale, Gale's (only?) sees "Loverboy," "the Mayor's daughter," as well as the single town Victor who trips on live TV like a drunken idiot.

therefore,when Alma Coin lures Gale into making Rebel weapons, he's enthralled. He is finally doing something useful with his skills & IT'S AGAINST SNOW? sounds awesome!!

it's not his fault President Coin wants to usurp Snow & is using anti-Hunger Games rebellions to do so. it's not his fault Primrose Everdeen is dead.

ok, but there’s Haymitch: resident Quell Victor who begrudgingly lets Hazelle in his Victor’s Village house. Hazelle, with her young children & whose son is pretending to be Katniss' cousin?

i mean (honest) gale/katniss is a major damage to the star-crossed lovers angle

is it because he could young Gale in himself? where Gale is skilled in building & planning & hunting, Haymitch knows methods & truly making something from for nothing

does Haymitch look at Gale's broken body after Thread whipped him & know that the younger man is already more than physically broken without even stepping foot in the Games?

does Haymitch just wish he could drill into Gale Hawthorne's cocky head that being angry at the Capitol is great motivation, just not how he's going about it.

Haymitch would probably give a month's worth of his winnings for life to Gale, just to hug the younger man and tell him: i see you, your effort, your determination to stop suffering?

the thing is: Gale believes he'd be able to survive the arena and still be himself & Haymitch knows that nobody can do that—not Maysilee; not even Peeta.

in all reality, Gale was just a kid that hungered for more than he received in return.

[madfantasy]

On The Nose

Ah, excited to be finally on my snarry drawing list--! I must say thanks to seeing @flymetosnarryland's amazing work 8' ❤️‍🔥

Even thos it been years last his scar severely pained him, Severus can't help sometimes but be skittish to anything arounds his neck/chin area, so Harry developed this habit to still give Sev some affection

5.6.2023, Support Mani

[thebxghag]

it’s the weekend so i painted a firesibs thing uhuhu. Azula finally gets caught in the EK when Zuko surprises her with a false bounty hunting lead.

[trashbag-baby666]

Requested by @umika !! :3 🩷

John asks Gale to dance for the first time.

mota masterlist!

•The first time John asks Gale to dance and he actually accepts, they're in the privacy of their shitty, little Manitowoc Apartment. They have the radio on while baking a pie, when Blue Skies comes on.

•John lets out a menacing, nostalgic laugh and snaps his fingers moving his shoulders back and forth.

•Gale still shakes his head with that big cheesy and in love smile. He watches as John begins to sing off key and probably a little too loud for 8:30 on a Tuesday night.

"Come on, Buck! Dance with me!" John held out his hands for Gale, the man poorly shuffling back and forth on the tiled floor in his knit socks.

"No, I got two left feet, John." Gale shook his head slapping away at his hands.

"No ones here to see you. Please!" John pushed out his bottom lip and made his best puppy dog eyes.

•Fortunately, for John at least, that does just the trick for Gale to reluctantly take his hands. He tries his best to John's seemingly off step dancing to the song. It all reminded him of the early days on base, before the terrors of the rest of their war. He couldn't deny John the dance he wished he would've gave him at Nash's celebration, the dance he wished he would've gave him in that Hotel in London, the dance he wished he would've gave him all those other times before that.

"Blue skies! All of them gone! Nothin' but blue skies! From now on!"

•Gale just smiled, letting John have his moment. It's when he dips Gale that the blonde is letting out a near screech and grabbing onto John's shirt. But Johns lips beat his to the screech, the familiar warm feeling of John's pink tinged lips against his own. the mustache brushing against his top lip, the smell of cigarettes and his musky cologne. His large hand wrapped around the middle of his back supporting him.

•His hand fit there like the last piece to Gales puzzle.

•It reminded him he was home and no one could take that from him.

[mik3stuff]

Touya behind the glass wall:....how did- how did you overcome the pain

Shoto in the other side of the room:...I didn't

[arunikas]

I commissioned this art for my fic 💗

If you guys have Twitter account, please go to @akseyii and hit her follow button! She's super talented and her NH art are sooo gorgeous!!!!! 😆❤️

[azureforreal]

The sillies ✨✨

left: NCL Flippy by Sweetybaty

right: PW Flippy by me

[ileftapieceofmysoulwithyou]

"...the Dementor departed with his tray on the floor and approached Harry, mouth agape. Harry turned away from the monster, squeezing his eyes shut, wishing it would leave him alone…the most wonderful pleasure lit him up like a fire, so beautiful it felt that a smile lifted on his face, and he leaned closer into that heavenly warmth, opening his lazy eyes to search for its source… Voldemort had cupped his cheek, the span of his hand so large it reached his forehead. The entire left side of his face felt like it was melting under his touch, and his gentle susurration could have lulled him to sleep if he hadn’t become aware of it. He focused on the words, half registering, half listening to the mere sound of it: “…Thou could’st foster me beyond the brink of recollection. Make my watchful care close up its bloodshot eyes, nor see despair. Do gently murder half my soul, and I shall feel the other half so utterly!” His fingers bent and clawed into Harry’s skin as he spoke, but he barely felt the pain, woozy as he was. Voldemort sounded agitated, he thought distantly, which didn’t match up with the beautiful phrases set forth: “I’m giddy at that cheek so fair and smooth; O let it blush so ever. Let it soothe my madness! Let it mantle rosy-warm with the tinge of love, panting in safe alarm.” The warmth left. Harry opened his eyes again, wondering where it had went. Voldemort had retracted his hand, and was now staring at him through narrowed eyes, the glowing nature of his irises prominent in the early darkening of the day. Harry closed his mouth, which had been hanging stupidly agape. Suddenly he remembered the Dementor, and turned to find it, searching every shadow of his cell…but it was nowhere. Now that he was focused on it, the fog that had been accumulating seemed to have dispersed and was now only a thin layer. The Dementor had changed its mind in attacking him, for some reason, if he hadn’t been imagining it. And…hold on— “Were you citing poetry to me?” “It would seem that droning on about love bores even the Dementors away.” Harry’s head was still whirling. He remembered something about murder, and madness, and thought that kind of love poem sounded right up Voldemort’s alley."

Hole in the Wall - Chapter 12 - tomrddle - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own]

[Voldemort quotes John Keats' Endymion Book IV]

[ednamode1]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/51482938/chapters/130108738

Pretty underrated fic ngl

[missmoonfrost]

Survivors - a wolfstar microfic

March 8 - Pepperup Potion - 739 word

Sirius came home, left his things in a heap on the hall floor, and went straight to the kitchen cabinet.

Remus leaned against the doorframe with crossed arms. “Hello? Welcome home.”

“Where’s my Pepperup?”

“Didn’t know we had one.”

“It was right here!”

“You can’t keep potions in unmarked bottles. That’s flat-out dangerous.”

“Not if you don’t move them around!”

“Stop being a child!”

“Stop screaming at me!”

“You’re the one who’s screaming.”

Sirius slammed the cabinet door shut so hard Remus could hear several bottles fall over inside it. He stomped straight to the bedroom and slammed that door shut after him as well. Damn it! Why did Sirius have to be so moody?

Remus sat down on the living room sofa, rubbing his face and sighing deeply. He was no better himself, to be honest. Maybe even worse at times.

It had been going on for months. At work he was bored, waiting to get home. At home, he was waiting for Sirius to come brighten his day. And almost without fail, Sirius would come home tired and on edge, leaving Remus both worried and irritated. The quiet life they once dreamed of now seemed mundane.

Who would have thought it was this hard living together? They loved each other, for Merlin’s sake! Or, Remus still loved Sirius, that was. Some days he found himself doubting it was still being reciprocated. Days like this.

The suspicion hit him like a pang in the chest. Maybe he was seeing someone else?

He heard Sirius roaming about in the kitchen but decided to leave him be. Doubt still tormenting him.

Maybe he should just ask? Get it over with? He poured two glasses of whiskey. There was no way he was having that conversation without a strong drink at hand.

Sirius came out in the living room with two cups of tea. He snorted when he saw the two glasses already on the coffee table. “Yeah. We need that, don’t we?”

He put the tea down but kept standing. As if he hesitated to even sit close to Remus.

“How are you?” Remus asked in what he hoped was a level enough voice. “Catching a cold?”

“I’ve not been feeling great today. But it's better now. I found it, the Pepperup. I… eh… put it on my nightstand yesterday and forgot.”

He was still standing. Still not looking at Remus.

“Are you seeing someone else?”

Sirius stared at him. Then pressed a hand to his eyes and started sobbing. Remus suspected the worst. A confession or something.

“How bad did I mess up for you to ever think that,” Sirius let out between sobs, “You mean so much to me, I… Remus, I would never.”

That broken voice was all the reassurance he needed. Remus sprung to his feet and hugged him tight. “I’m sorry. I know. I’m so sorry. I love you.” They slowly rocked back and forth together.

“How can it be so hard, Moony?” Sirius complained into Remus' shoulder. “We’ve been through bloody war. I’ve been to bloody prison. I thought everything else would be easy after that and it’s just… not.”

They collapsed on the sofa, still clinging to each other.

“Maybe we’re just not trying hard enough?” Sirius suggested. “Everyone else seems to do it just fine.”

“Maybe we’re trying too hard?” Remus countered. “Just because the war is over doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. Maybe we need to scream and cry and throw things sometimes?”

Sirius smiled with one corner of his mouth. “Yeah. Or maybe we need to go to therapy?”

Remus smiled, too. “What? You’re going to be the reasonable one now?”

Sirius cupped his hand around Remus' neck and inched closer. “Maybe I need you to hold me like you’re not sure I’ll be there tomorrow again?” Then he quickly shut his eyes, “I mean, don’t think for a second I miss that time, but –“

Remus kissed him, shutting him up. “I get what you mean.”

In fact, that particular desire he understood perfectly. He climbed into Sirius' lap and painfully easily fell into the pretence. Tasted Sirius lips as if he might not get the chance again. Reverently unbuttoned his shirt. Trailed his finger down his chest, heaving with each shaky breath, and into his trousers, as if it might be the last time.

After all, if they didn’t quit the idiocy of lately, it might just be.

[callistothebard]

Entwined - Bellamione

HEAVY TW: murder, suicidal imagery

Word count: < 300

prompts used: March 5 Impossible, March 6 Bridge

for @sapphicmicrofics

..........

Another victim. Another rope. Another body hanging from the same damn bridge.

Hermione watched as the man was pulled safely onto the deck.

"A lot of rookies would have drowned out by now." Inspector Ridge huffed out, blowing smoke from his nostrils.

Hermione nodded.

"The shock didn't hit you yet. It will." He claps her roughly on the shoulder. "Gather your wits and come with me to examine the vic."

Her stomach turned as she saw the body. The victim's neck was twisted unnaturally, dangling lifelessly to the side. Upon his skin, deep gouges marred his cheeks, arms, and torso. His nails were chipped and dry.

Ridge knelt and pointed his gloved hands to the victim's back. "Sick bastard." She heard her partner mutter.

As her eyes fell upon the crude marks on the victim's back, her stomach churned with bile, a sickening realization knotting in her gut. It was her. She was sure of it.

"Wilkins?" Ridge called out to her.

Hermione's breath hitched in her throat like a blade poised at her jugular. She took a step back, then another, and another until her legs hit the bridge railing.

She could feel the pull of magic. She could feel a hint of her. She thought she escaped. She moved across the entire world for fucks sake. Got a new name. A Muggle job. She was so sure she had finally…

Hermione rubbed her thumb over her forearm; even through the latex, she felt it.

"Wilkins, you alright?" She strained to hear him. "Talk to me, kid." She felt him reach out to her, pulling her back into a world she desperately wanted to flee from.

Her mouth was cotton. She could only stare at the bloody scars etched on the man's back…

Muddy.

[tsukuyomii45]

ObiKonan. Any AU, including simple canon divergence. How would they react to an accidental pregnancy? For example, how do they handle it if they're FWB. I'm curious! 🤔

This ask cracked me up so much XDD I'm gonna write 2 AUs for this one. :3

~~

Modern AU - FWB relationship:

So when Konan finds out that she's pregnant, she immediately meets up with Obito to tell him the sudden news. Obito would literally choke on his cigarette the second Konan breaks the news, and he starts having a coughing fit. XDD Konan holds up the test and he could see the positive sign on it, and then he starts to act neurotic; pacing around the room, then going over to the kitchen counter to pour some whiskey, takes a gulp of his glass then pours another, mumbling about the fact that he is going to be a father and wondering if he should marry her so she doesn't become a baby mama, or if everything is too soon - are they even in a real relationship? Is this even normal? He'd be asking himself between glasses and a puff of another cigarette that he lights up. XDD

Meanwhile, Konan is literally counting the costs of milk and diaper and baby essentials on her fingers, and would be stuck in her self-denial that 9 months isn't too long and what color the crib should be. xDD

Post War AU - Established relationship:

This AU is a bit angsty and sensitive. So to anyone reading, this is a trigger warning.

In this AU, Obito and Konan finally end up together, and Konan would have long assumed that she cannot get pregnant due to injuries she sustained over the years or possibly even from the war. She and Obito were having unprotected sex regularly, and then one day she starts feeling very sick and decides to get herself checked... and this is where she finds out that she's pregnant. The news shock her, and it made her grow distant for a while. Naturally, Obito would've noticed the change in behavior, and how she's been avoiding him recently. He'd confront her about it, and then Konan realizes that this isn't something she could hide from him. She tearfully tells him that she is pregnant with his child, and she doesn't know how to feel about it... and whether she should keep it or not.

Obito would be completely shocked and confused at the news, and then the first word that tumbles out of his mouth is, "This can't be happening..." and he starts pacing around. Konan tells him that she never expected him to feel happy, because she herself doesn't know if she should be happy. Obito explains exactly why he cannot be happy for the both of them, and the reason is because they never wanted to bring a child into this shitty world that they live in, and let them go through the rough life of a shinobi given that the system has not changed so much despite the fact that things are starting to modernize. It'll take a while for the two of them to figure out what to do next.

[retrograderesemblance]

@honorhearted continued from x after a year and a half hiatus

"I had other methods when we were in camp…though that’s no longer an option to me. Maybe I should be the one embroidering.”

Ben's lingering stare did not go unnoticed and Molly found herself falling into similar mannerisms, more focused on watching his lips form his next words than the meaning of his speeches. She felt oddly defenseless, as if she'd just been caught in an act of delinquency, as if she had nowhere to hide herself.

“Sorry. I know we were never close beyond the obvious, but I feel like now I’m even less bearable to be around.”

"Aye," she agreed quietly, returning her attention forward, pressing her cheek to his shoulder; she had warmed considerably from their closeness, but even now, she didn't want to relinquish her hold on him, "we've never been friends."

It seemed an outlandish thing to admit to now, but Molly never recalled them treating one another as anything other than a nuisance, than an unconventional means of relief. There had never been friendly discussions or jokes shared between them; even in their senseless fumblings during the war, they had never been kind or gentle with one another, instead cruel words, violent touches being their only means of communication.

Thunder sounded again, though this time it was distant, the storm moving further from them even if the pounding of raindrops and wind still beat against the cabin mercilessly.

There was comfort knowing the storm was subsiding, even just a little, and suddenly Molly felt tiredness sweeping over her, the port beginning to have an affect over her, enough to persuade her to loosen her hold on Ben and sink further under the bedding so she could lay down. She held fast to his forearm though, gently tugging on him, a quiet plea for him to lay beside her.

"You should stay here. In case the storm draws nearer." She didn't want to be alone if the thunder returned, bringing back memories of gunpowder and violence, she didn't want Ben to be alone either.