#also my first nomad play through

[metal-mouse]

*chanting* nomad V! nomad V! nomad V!

[buckets-and-trees]

Obsidian Stain and Sin

Characters/Pairings: soft!dark Ari Levinson x Female!Reader, soft!dark Curtis Everett x Female!Reader, Ari x Reader x Curtis Word Count: 8.1k Summary: You've thought of getting your first tattoo for a long time. When you walk into Obsidian Stain Studio, you experience services beyond what you bargained for.

Content/Warnings: tattooing/needles, DUBIOUS CONSENT, explicit smut, semi-public sex, vaginal fingering, kissing, anal play/rimming (female receiving), eating it from behind, vaginal intercourse, unprotected sex, praise kink, innocence kink, corruption kink, size kink, manhandling, fade to black/abrupt ending

Author Notes: I've had this idea all summer. I've been eager to write it, but literally the muse only kept teasing me with it until literally about six hours ago when she said, WE'RE DOING THIS, AND WE'RE DOING THIS NOW, so it's almost late/maybe it's still you're birthday week for a hot minute in some time zone, but I'm slipping this to you @stargazingfangirl18 for your Birthday Bonenanza! Literally, when I tell you that when you originally tagged me in the announcement, and I read over the myriad of prompts, I thought, "Oh, wow, this is so tattoo Curtis and Ari coded, it HAS TO happen for Siri's birthday..." that's really how my brain thought it was finally going to get the jump on working on this. But then no. Then that other Steve story happened, and I was stoked about that. Then the new chapter for Nomad Steve, and I thought, ah well, still fun stuff, maybe someday this, and then AT THE LAST MOMENT, Muse pulled a plot twist. So here's some ruinous hoe shit. Multiple dialogue prompts from the challenge are used here, and you'll find them in bold.

A/N 2: Shout out to @vonalyn for a few convos hashing out some of this concept!

You are surprised by the tinkling of a classic bell hanging over the door that rings pleasantly as you enter the tattoo parlor.

A man behind the reception desk immediately looks up to greet you. He doesn’t shoot you a phony, business-y smile, but his demeanor is still warm and approachable. “Welcome,” he greets you. “Walk-in or appointment?” he asks.

“Um, walk-in,” you manage. In a black t-shirt with shoulders that are nearly bursting through the fabric, lush hair and beard, and striking blue eyes, he’s more than an impressive specimen. “If you’ve got an opening?” you quickly add.

“Sure, we can take you,” he says. His gaze flicks to a scheduling book in front of him on the counter. “A couple of the boys are on break or about to finish up with other clients. Your first time here, yes?”

You nod. “First tattoo ever.”

“Oh,” he says, and his eyes brighten. “Even better. Let’s get you booked in.”

He takes your name, email, and phone number to set up a profile for you in their system. There are some electronic consent forms that he takes you through and has you agree to and sign on an iPad, and then he takes asks a few questions about what you’re interested in.

“Based off what you have in mind, Curtis might be the best artist, but he won’t be finished for maybe an hour.”

“Ah,” you look at your watch. It was a bit of an impromptu idea for you to drop in to get the tattoo this afternoon, and you had time, but you had probably been foolish thinking a walk-in was any sort of good idea.

“But,” he interjects, “I’ve got two other guys who are excellent, and either one of them should be ready to take you pretty soon. Take a seat just over there, and I’ll go check in with them and get a call on time for you. I’ll also grab you a drink. Pick your poison - we’ve got water or Coke products.”

You give him your preference, and he nods and smiles.

“Right then, sit tight, and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

He disappears around the corner, and you do as you’ve been told and take a seat on one of the black leather couches in the lobby.

Now you have time to really take in your surroundings. The walls are black with white moldings at the floor and ceiling, and the hardwood floors are a warm walnut. Everything is dark but clean. Classic but clearly in line with current trends. On the wall behind the desk, there’s a gorgeous, white-lettered feature with shop name - Obsidian Stain Studio - that’s sleek and impressive. On the wall next to you, there are ten framed pieces of art on the wall in a mix of sizes, some of them hand-drawn artwork, and the rest photos of finished tattoos on skin.

You’re nervous but determined not to be, so you cross your legs and try to keep your anxious energy limited to just running your fingers back and forth over the edge of your phone. Looking at the different designs on the wall does serve to capture your attention, though, and quell your nerves slightly.

The man working reception returns and hands you the drink. “We should have you back there in a chair in ten or fifteen minutes.”

“Great,” you respond, and the nerves kick up a notch, but it’s with a surge of excitement.

This is happening.

You take a sip of your drink, grateful for something to occupy your hands. The cool liquid helps soothe your nerves a bit. As you wait, you observe a few other clients entering and leaving the shop checking in or paying as they leave. Some sport fresh bandages, while others are clearly here for consultations, clutching sketches or reference photos.

The buzzing of tattoo machines creates a constant backdrop of sound, occasionally punctuated by muffled laughter or conversation from the back rooms. The atmosphere is more relaxed than you expected, nineties music underscoring it all.

As you wait, a couple emerges from behind the partition separating the lobby from the work area. They're both grinning, the woman cradling her forearm gently. Her companion is animatedly discussing something with her, gesturing excitedly. You catch a glimpse of fresh ink on her skin as they pass – a vibrant butterfly with intricate, colorful wings.

The sight makes your heart race a little faster. Soon, that'll be you walking out with fresh art on your body. The thought is both thrilling and slightly terrifying.

But you won’t be walking out with a friend or partner.

Your gaze wanders back to the artwork on the walls. One piece in particular catches your eye – an intricate mandala design with flowing lines and delicate detail. You find yourself drawn to its symmetry and complexity.

"Which one’s got your attention?" a voice asks, startling you from your reverie. You look up to see someone you can only describe as a lion of a man standing before you. All of his attention is focused on you like you’re his next prey. He towers over you with a mane of golden brown hair that’s grown out to tuck nicely behind his ears and curls out at his neck. He’s got a broad chest and shoulders covered in a denim shirt with a few buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up past his elbows. You can see peeks of ink mingled with some chest hair as well as intricate designs over his forearms. His dark blue eyes are zeroed in on you in a way that both unsettles and steadies you at the same time.

You point at the mandala, and the man smiles. “That’s one of Steve’s. He says you’re here for your first tattoo.”

“He… wait, is that Steve?” You nod and glance over at the man at the front desk who’s now consulting with an older man and showing him a few designs.

“Yep, he owns the place and loves to work the front almost as much as the back with the rest of us. I’m Ari, by the way.” He puts his hand out, inviting you to shake hands.

You push up from the couch, stand, and offer your hand for the shake. It’s engulfed easily by his big, warm, calloused hand.

“I’m the one who’s going to make your first time special.”

Your heart stutters and your face flushes. He didn’t just… your mind races. Did he?

He chuckles and drops your hand quickly. “Follow me,” he says and turns and begins striding into the back.

You fall into step behind Ari, your eyes inevitably drawn to his broad shoulders and the confident swagger in his step. The back area is an open space divided into several stations with partial walls, each with its own tattoo chair and equipment, creating semi-private booths. Ari leads you to one in the back corner.

"Have a seat," he says, gesturing to the chair.

You perch on the edge, your nerves returning full force. The air is thick with the scent of antiseptic and ink.

He pulls up a rolling stool and sits, leaning in close. "So, tell me about this tattoo you want."

You explain your idea - a simple constellation of stars for your zodiac sign - watching as his blue eyes light up with interest. He nods along, occasionally asking questions or offering suggestions. His enthusiasm is infectious, and you find yourself relaxing despite the butterflies in your stomach.

"Alright, I think I know what you're after," Ari says, reaching for a sketchpad. "Let me rough out a design for you."

You watch, mesmerized, as Ari's hand moves swiftly across the paper. His brow furrows in concentration, and you find yourself studying the angles of his face, the way his beard accentuates his strong jaw. Within minutes, he presents you with a design that takes your breath away.

"What do you think?" he asks, a hint of pride in his voice.

The constellation is there, just as you imagined, but Ari has added subtle details that elevate it beyond your expectations. Delicate lines connect the stars, and a hint of shadowing gives the piece depth and movement.

"It's perfect," you breathe, unable to take your eyes off the sketch.

Ari grins, clearly pleased with your reaction. "Great. Now, let's talk placement."

You indicate the spot you've chosen - your inner wrist. Ari nods approvingly. "Good choice. Nice and visible, but easy to cover if needed. Mind if I take a look?"

You extend your arm, and Ari gently takes your wrist in his large hands. His touch is surprisingly soft as he examines the area, his fingers tracing the spot where your tattoo will soon be. You can't help but notice the contrast between his rough, inked skin and your own unmarked flesh.

"Nice canvas," he murmurs, more to himself than to you. "Skin's good here. This'll work well." He looks up, catching your eye. "Ready to get started?"

You nod, a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling in your chest.

“You’re a sweet, innocent thing, aren’t you?”

You open your mouth but shut it again, unsure how to respond, and he brushes his thumb over the pulse on your inner wrist, and you think you see his eyes darken.

He releases your wrist and turns to prepare his equipment. You’re frozen in place, but luckily that’s fine as it’s not necessary for you to move. You watch as he efficiently sets up his station, laying out ink caps, adjusting his machine, and pulling on a fresh pair of black latex gloves. The buzz of the tattoo machine as he tests it sends a jolt of excitement and nervousness through you.

"Alright, I'm going to clean the area now," he says, swabbing your wrist.

His touch is clinical now, professional, as he prepares your skin. The cool antiseptic makes you shiver slightly.

"Cold?" he asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"A little," you admit.

"Don't worry, I’ll have you warm soon enough," he says with a wink that makes your cheeks flush.

Ari places the stencil on your wrist, pressing it gently to transfer the design. When he peels it away, you see the outline of your constellation on your skin for the first time. It sends a thrill through you - this is really happening.

"Make sure you’re happy with the placement before we start," he instructs. "This is your last chance to change your mind."

You focus to examine the design on your skin more closely, heart racing. It looks even better than you imagined.

"It's perfect," you say, unable to keep the excitement from your voice.

Ari grins. "Alright then, let's make it permanent. You ready?"

You nod, settling back into the chair and extending your arm.

Ari takes your arm gently, positioning it just so on the armrest. "Now, I need you to stay as still as possible," he says, his voice low and soothing. "It's going to hurt a bit, especially at first. But I promise, I'll be as gentle as I can."

The buzz of the machine fills your ears as Ari brings the needle to your skin. You hold your breath, bracing for the pain.

The first touch of the needle is a sharp, burning sensation that makes you wince. Ari pauses, his eyes flicking to your face. "You okay?"

You nod, determined. "I'm fine. Keep going."

“Move an inch, and you’ll be sorry.”

You open your mouth wordlessly again, and he laughs.

“Only joking. I know you’re going to be a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

You bite your lip and nod, something fluttering in your stomach, mixing wickedly with your nerves and the uncertainty around this man who skirts between being casual, soothing your nerves, concentration on his craft, and making these comments that insinuate and evoke wholly inappropriate thoughts.

He smiles, then concentrates back on your wrist and resumes his work. Gradually, the initial shock of pain fades into a more manageable discomfort. You find yourself relaxing, mesmerized by the steady movement of Ari's hand and the way the muscles in his biceps move and flex.

As Ari continues, your eyes shift to his face. His brow is furrowed in concentration, his blue eyes focused intently on your skin. There's something mesmerizing about watching him work, seeing the care and precision he puts into every line. The buzz of the machine becomes almost soothing, a constant backdrop to the occasional murmur of voices from other stations.

"So," Ari says after a while, breaking the silence without looking up from his work, "what made you decide to get your first tattoo today?"

You hesitate, unsure how much to share. "It's… kind of a long story."

Ari glances up, a small smile playing on his lips. "We've got time. I'm not going anywhere, and neither are you."

You take a deep breath, wincing slightly as the needle hits a sensitive spot. "I've been thinking about it for a while. But today… today felt like it was finally the day to take the leap."

"Spontaneous decision, huh? Those can be the best kind."

You nod, feeling the heat creep up your neck. "I guess I just wanted to do something for myself. Something permanent.”

Ari nods thoughtfully, his eyes still focused on your wrist. "Sometimes we need a physical reminder of the changes we're making inside," he says softly. "Something to look at and think, 'Yeah, I did that. I made that choice.'"

His words resonate with you, and you find yourself relaxing further. The pain has faded to a dull, almost pleasant sensation.

"So, what's your story?" you ask, curiosity getting the better of you. "How did you get into tattooing?"

Ari chuckles, pausing to wipe away excess ink. "Now that's definitely a long story. But the short version? I was a troubled kid, got into some bad stuff. Tattooing saved me, gave me a purpose."

He glances up, meeting your eyes. "There's something powerful about creating permanent art on someone's body.”

The words send another thrill through your body and you nod, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickens at his intense gaze. "I can see that," you manage to say.

Ari returns his attention to your wrist, a small smile playing on his lips. "It's intimate, you know? Creating something that becomes a part of someone forever."

The word 'intimate' hangs in the air between you, charged with unspoken tension. You're acutely aware of the warmth of his hand on your skin, the gentle pressure as he works.

“You’re the one Steve says I nearly got to mark for the first time,” a new voice startles you, and you jump slightly in your chair.

Ari tsks, but his left hand had been holding your arm down firmly.

The other man chuckles. “Sorry, sugar.”

He steps closer, coming into Ari’s booth. He looks to be slightly taller than Ari, and a shade leaner, but he’s still built with more muscles than the common man. His hair is dark, shorn close to his head, and a dark beard covers his angular jaw. Ice blue eyes pierce into you, and you fight hard to suppress an actual shiver running down your spine.

"Curtis," Ari says without looking up, his tone a mix of amusement and mild irritation. "Didn't anyone teach you it's rude to interrupt?"

Curtis leans against the partition, crossing his arms over his chest. The movement draws your attention to the intricate tattoos covering his forearms. He’s got more ink than Ari.

"Just wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Steve said we had a noteworthy first-timer."

You feel your face flush, unsure whether to be flattered or embarrassed. Curtis's gaze is intense, almost predatory, as he looks you over.

"Well, now you've seen," Ari says, his voice tight. "Don't you have your own client to attend to?"

Curtis huffs. "Just finished up. Thought I'd come say hello." He turns his attention back to you. "How're you holding up, sweetheart? Ari treating you right?"

You nod, finding your voice. "He's been great," you manage to say, your voice a bit shaky. "It doesn't hurt as much as I expected."

Curtis grins, a glint in his eye. "Oh, Ari knows how to make it feel good, doesn't he?"

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks at the innuendo. Ari's hand tightens slightly on your wrist, and you see his jaw clench.

"Curtis," Ari says, his tone a clear warning.

Curtis holds up his hands. "Alright, alright. I can take a hint." He fixes his gaze once again on your face. "Maybe next time you'll let me be the one to mark you up. Lot more skin still to explore."

With that, he stalks away, leaving a charged atmosphere in his wake. You can feel the tension radiating off Ari as he resumes his work on your tattoo, his jaw clenched.

“Sorry about that,” Ari says after a moment, his voice low. "Curtis can be… intense."

You nod, still feeling flustered from the encounter. "It's okay," you manage to say, trying to calm your racing heart.

Ari looks up at you, his blue eyes searching your face. "You alright? Need a break?"

You shake your head. "No, I'm fine. Let's keep going."

He nods, returning his attention to your wrist. The buzz of the machine fills the silence between you once more. You try to focus on the sensation, the slight sting as the needle moves across your skin, rather than the lingering tension in the air.

After a few minutes, Ari speaks again. "You know, you don't have to let anyone pressure you into anything you're not comfortable with. Not here, not anywhere."

His words surprise you, and you meet his gaze. There's a protective glint in his eye, but he quickly returns his attention to your wrist. Ari's movements become more deliberate, almost possessive, as he continues working on your tattoo. The tension in the air is palpable, and you find yourself hyper-aware of every point of contact between your skin and his.

"Almost done," he murmurs after what feels like both an eternity and no time at all. "Just a few more touches."

You watch as he adds the final details, marveling at how the constellation seems to come to life on your skin. When he finally sits back, setting down the machine, you can't help but gasp.

"It's beautiful," you breathe.

Ari's eyes meet yours, a mixture of pride and something deeper in his gaze. “It suits you perfectly."

You feel a warmth spread through your chest at his words. Ari gently wipes away the last traces of excess ink, revealing the full beauty of your new tattoo. The stars seem to shimmer on your skin, the delicate lines connecting them creating a sense of movement and depth.

"Now, let's get this wrapped up and I'll go over the aftercare instructions with you," Ari says, reaching for a roll of clear film.

As he carefully covers your new tattoo, his fingers brush against your skin, sending little sparks of electricity through you. You can't help but notice how his large hands handle your wrist with such care and precision.

"There," he says, smoothing down the edges of the wrap. "All protected."

Ari walks you to the front, and your heart races when you see Steve and Curtis speaking quietly with their heads together. Ari clears his throat, and at the sight of you, Curtis nods, rakes his gaze over you once more. “Come back soon, sugar.”

You feel a shiver run down your spine at Curtis's words, but Ari's steady presence beside you helps ground you. Steve steps forward, a warm smile on his face.

"How did it go?" he asks, his eyes flickering to your wrapped wrist.

"It was amazing," you reply, unable to keep the excitement from your voice. "Ari did an incredible job." You extend your wrist, showing off your new tattoo.

Steve nods approvingly. "Beautiful work. Ari’s one of our best. Let's get you checked out."

As Steve begins to ring up your work, Ari leans against the counter beside you. His arm brushes against yours, and you're acutely aware of his proximity.

"Remember," he says softly, his voice low enough that only you can hear, "take care of it. It's a part of you now."

You nod, shyly meeting his intense gaze, looking up at him through your lashes. "I will," you promise, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ari's eyes soften, and he reaches out, his fingers ghosting over the edge of the wrap on your wrist. "Good girl," he murmurs, the words sending a shiver down your spine.

Steve clears his throat, breaking the moment. "All set," he says, handing you a receipt. "We hope to see you again soon."

You nod, suddenly feeling flustered. "Thank you," you manage to say, gathering your things.

As you turn to leave, Ari's hand catches your elbow gently. "Wait," he says, reaching into his pocket. He pulls out a small business card and presses it into your hand. "In case you have any questions about the aftercare. Or anything else."

Your fingers brush as you take the card, and you feel a jolt of electricity at the contact. You look down at the card, noting the personal cell phone number scrawled on it. "Thank you."

Ari's blue eyes lock with yours, intense and filled with unspoken promise.

You barely seem to turn away, but somehow manage to break off from the eye contact, and quickly rush out of Obsidian Stain Studio.

You keep Ari’s business card, but as the weeks go by, you don’t use it.

After a couple of months, you move the card from the spot next to where you keep your keys where you see it every day, into the top drawer of your desk. Out of frequent sight, but not out of mind completely.

It’s a solid six months before you return to Obsidian Stain again, but ultimately you do. The bell jingles above your head as you step inside.

The tattoo on your wrist had healed beautifully, and you loved seeing it on your skin. You had decided fairly soon afterwards that you wanted another tattoo, but even after saving up for your next one, it had taken you longer to decide whether to return Obsidian or not, the experience with Ari and encounters with Curtis leaving you torn between terrified and desperately curious to go back.

Ultimately the allure was too strong to deny.

But, more logically, although finally going in to get your first tattoo had been on a whim, you had been very thorough in narrowing down and exploring your options for months before. You knew they were one of the best in your area, especially for the style you wanted, and the price point you knew you could afford while still ensuring quality.

Unwilling to make an appointment, though, you were going to gamble on a walk-in again.

No one was immediately at the front desk, but at the sound of the bell, Steve quickly appears. “Welcome back,” he said, a broad grin on his face.

“Walk-in?” you ask, and remind him of your name.

“Oh, I remember you.” Steve beckons you forward. “Let me see that wrist,” he says.

You offer your arm with pride, and he smiles warmly.

“Looks good. You hit us on a slow day, perfect for a walk in. I’ll get you booked in, and then I’ll take you right back.”

You feel a mix of excitement and nervousness as Steve leads you to the back. The familiar scent of antiseptic and ink fills your nostrils, bringing back memories of your last visit. Your eyes scan the room, half hoping and half dreading to see a certain tattooist.

"Curtis is free right now," Steve says, guiding you to a station. "He'll take good care of you."

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of Curtis's name. You remember his intense gaze, his bold words from your last visit. Part of you is disappointed it's not Ari, but another part is intrigued.

Curtis looks up as you approach, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Well, well. Look who's back," he says, his ice blue eyes locking onto yours.

You swallow hard, suddenly feeling very exposed under his gaze. "Hi," you manage evenly.

Curtis's eyes rake over you. "I was hoping you'd come back to us," he says, his voice low and smooth. "What can I do for you today, sugar?"

You begin to explain the design you have in mind - a delicate, line art floral piece. As you talk, Curtis listens intently, occasionally nodding or asking questions. His focus is entirely on you, making you feel both nervous and oddly thrilled.

“And where do you want it?” he finally asks.

You trace an area of your other arm - opposite of the one with your inked-up wrist — moving your fingers over the delicate skin between your wrist and up toward the crook of your elbow.

“Hmm,” he hums. “You sure?”

Your eyes shoot to his. “Yes?” an edge of hesitation now in your voice at his query.

He narrows his eyes slightly, then shakes his head. “No.”

“No?”

“No. A piece like this could work well there, but that’s not where you want me to put this.”

“It… isn’t?”

“No, it should go here,” he says, and he reaches out and brushes his fingers lightly over your ribs instead, causing you to shiver.

He gestures for you to take a seat in the chair. As you settle in, Curtis rolls his stool closer, leaning in. "Now, this is going to be a bit more intense than your other wrist. You sure you're ready for it?"

You nod, trying to project confidence despite the nervous flutter in your stomach. "I'm ready."

Curtis grins, a predatory glint in his eye. "That's what I want to hear from that pretty mouth. Now just sit tight and wait for me while I draw something up.”

Your heart races as you lean back in the chair, Curtis's words echoing in your mind, causing heat to pool in your core. You watch, mesmerized by the intensity of his focus. After a few minutes, he turns back to you, holding up the sketch.

"What do you think?" he asks.

Your breath catches in your throat. The design is beautiful - delicate flowers and vines intertwining in a way that would perfectly follow the curve of your ribs.

"It's perfect," you breathe, unable to take your eyes off the design.

Curtis smirks, clearly pleased with your reaction. "Alright then, let's get started. I'm going to need you to lift your shirt for me."

Your cheeks flush as you slowly raise the hem of your shirt, exposing your ribs. Curtis's eyes darken as they roam over your skin.

"Beautiful canvas," he murmurs, his voice low and husky.

You feel exposed, knowing your own soft belly and imperfections, but he looks at you in a way that has your head spinning, it’s a hunger that’s almost reverent.

“Better if you take your shirt off for me, sugar,” he says, his tone firm.

Head swirling, you don’t think to refuse, just do as you’re told. With trembling hands, you pull your shirt over your head, feeling incredibly vulnerable as you sit there in just your bra. Curtis's eyes roam over your exposed skin, a look of satisfaction on his face.

"That's better," he says, his voice low and approving. "Now, let's get you positioned just right."

His hands, surprisingly gentle, guide you to lie back and slightly to the side. You shiver as his fingers trail along your ribs, mapping out where the tattoo will go.

"Nervous?" he asks, a hint of amusement in his tone.

He already knows the answer, but you nod, not trusting your voice.

Curtis leans in close, his breath warm against your ear. "Don't worry, sugar. I'll take good care of you."

Your breath catches in your throat at his words. He chuckles softly, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you.

Curtis begins to clean and prepare your skin, his touch clinical yet somehow still intimate. You try to steady your breathing, hyperaware of every point of contact between his hands and your body.

"Now, this is going to hurt more than your wrist did," Curtis warns, his voice low. "But I know you can take it. You're tougher than you look, aren't you, sugar?"

You nod, steeling yourself for the pain. The buzz of the tattoo machine fills the air, and then you feel the first bite of the needle against your skin. You gasp, your body tensing.

"Breathe," Curtis instructs, his free hand coming to rest on your hip, grounding you. "That's it, nice and steady."

As he works, Curtis surprisingly stokes and then keeps up a steady stream of conversation. Mostly it’s inquiry after inquiry, forcing you to focus on finding words, but his deep voice also helps to distract you from the pain. He asks about your life, your interests. You find yourself opening up, sharing more than you intended about your life, your dreams, your fears. His voice continues to provide the counterpoint to the buzz of the tattoo machine.

"You're doing so well," Curtis murmurs, his eyes flicking up to meet yours before returning to his work. "Such a good girl for me."

The praise sends a shiver through you, and you bite your lip to stifle a small moan. Curtis notices, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

"Sensitive, aren't you?" he says, his voice low. "I like that."

Your cheeks flush, but you can't deny the thrill his words send through you. The pain of the tattoo blends into the sensations he’s evoking as his hands move with practiced precision across your skin.

"So, sugar, what made you come back for more ink?" he asks, his eyes flicking up to meet yours before returning to his work.

You take a shaky breath before answering. "I loved how the first one turned out. And… I guess I wanted to experience it again."

Curtis chuckles, darkly. "Addictive, isn't it? The pain, the permanence... the intimacy of it all."

His words make your heart race, and you're acutely aware of how close he is, how vulnerable you are beneath his hands.

"Speaking of your first time," Curtis continues, the steadying hand that had been at your waist ghosting just a little lower, "Ari seemed quite taken with you. Did you ever give him a call?"

The question catches you off guard, and you feel a flush creep up your neck. "No, I… I didn't," you admit softly.

Curtis's hand stills for a moment, and he looks up at you, his ice blue eyes intense. "No? Now that's interesting. Why not, sugar?"

You swallow hard, unsure how to answer, yet unable to stop the words from flowing. "I... I guess I was nervous," you finally say.

A slow smile spreads across Curtis's face. "Nervous? Of Ari? Or of what you felt?”

Your cheeks flush at his perceptiveness. "Both, maybe," you whisper.

“Or maybe you were waiting for something else?" His hand resumes its work, but the touch his anchor hand seems more deliberate now, each movement charged with unspoken intent.

"I don't know what you mean.”

Curtis chuckles, a low, dark sound that sends shivers down your spine. "I think you do, sugar. I think you knew exactly what you were doing when you came back here today."

His words hang in the air between you, charged with tension. You can't bring yourself to deny it, can't even find your voice to respond. Curtis seems to take your silence as confirmation.

"That's what I thought," he murmurs, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. "You're full of surprises, aren't you?"

The buzz of the tattoo machine fills the silence as Curtis returns his focus to your ribs. You try to steady your breathing, acutely aware of every point of contact between his skin and yours. The pain of the tattoo blends with the heat pooling in your core, creating a heady mix of sensations.

"Tattoo nearly done," Curtis says after what feels like hours.

You let out a shaky breath, a mix of relief and disappointment washing over you. The intense experience is coming to an end, but part you that scares you doesn't want it to.

"Just a few more touches," Curtis murmurs, his eyes focused intently on your skin, and the buzz of the machine continues for a few more minutes.

"There we go," Curtis murmurs. He wipes away the excess ink, then sits back to admire his work. His eyes roam over your exposed skin, a mixture of professional pride and something darker in his gaze. "Want to take a look?"

You nod, not trusting your voice. Curtis helps you sit up, steadying you with a hand on your lower back as you move to face the mirror. Your breath catches in your throat as you see the intricate design now adorning your ribs. The delicate flowers and vines seem to bloom across your skin, following the curves of your body perfectly.

"It's perfect," you whisper, unable to take your eyes off the mirror.

Curtis's smile widens, and his eyes darken. "Of course it is. I knew exactly what you needed."

His words send another shiver through you, but then suddenly you feel the heat of him too close, and he’s pressed right up against your back, planting his large hands on your hips and caging you in.

"You're trembling," Curtis murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. His hands tighten on your hips, holding you steady against him. "Are you scared, sugar?"

You can't find your voice to answer, your heart pounding in your chest. You're acutely aware of every point of contact between your bodies - his broad chest against your back, his strong hands on your hips, the heat of him seeping through your skin.

"Or maybe," he continues, his voice low and dark, "you're excited."

One of his hands slides up your side, carefully avoiding the fresh tattoo, until it comes to rest just below your breast. Your breath hitches, and you see your pupils dilate in the mirror's reflection.

"That's what I thought," Curtis says, satisfaction clear in his tone. "You've been thinking about this, haven't you? Since the moment you walked in.”

You can feel the heat radiating from his body, smell the faint scent of ink and something uniquely him. Your heart races, a mix of excitement and nervousness coursing through you.

"Tell me, sugar," Curtis murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. "Did you come back here hoping to see Ari? Or were you hoping it would be me?"

You swallow hard, your mind spinning. "I… I don't know," you manage to whisper.

Curtis chuckles, the sound low and dark. "I think you do know. I think you've been thinking about this for months." His hands slide up and down your sides, careful to avoid the fresh tattoo. "Thinking about what it would be like if you came back. If you let yourself give in."

Your breath hitches. “No.”

“No?” he challenges. His right hand, still gloved, audaciously slips past your waistband and down the front of your panties to cup your pussy. He laughs softly, discovering a growing wetness there. “Yes.”

You gasp as Curtis's hand begins to stroke your most intimate area, your body betraying you with its response. Your mind races, torn between the thrill of his touch and the shock at how quickly things have escalated.

"Wait," you manage to breathe out, your voice shaky. "We shouldn't…"

Curtis pauses, his hand stilling but not withdrawing. "Why not?" he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "Your body is telling me a different story, sugar."

You're acutely aware of how exposed you are, standing there in just your bra with Curtis pressed against your back, his hand between your legs. The mirror reflects your flushed face and wide eyes, Curtis's intense gaze locked on you.

"Someone could walk in," you whisper, a weak protest even to your own ears.

Curtis chuckles darkly. "They could.”

Your mind is spinning, caught between the intense sensations and the voice in your head screaming that this is wrong, that you shouldn't be doing this here, now, with him. But your body betrays you, responding eagerly to his touch.

"Curtis," you manage to whisper, your voice shaky, and tears springing up in your eyes. "We can’t—"

"Shh," he soothes, his free hand coming up to gently grip your throat. Not choking, just holding. "Don't overthink it, sugar. Just feel."

His fingers continue their exploration, finding your clit and circling it slowly. You bite back a moan, plant your hands on the mirror, and your hips rock back against him.

“Fuck, knew you wanted this,” he speaks directly into your ear.

You whimper and shake your head, but then his hand moves up to cover your mouth. “Gotta keep more quiet than that unless you want someone else to join us, sugar.”

Your eyes desperately seek his in the mirror, fear flashing in them, and the tears begin to spill over. There’s a predatory glint in his icy blue gaze.

His fingers continue their skilled ministrations, drawing forth sensations you've never experienced before. Your body betrays you, responding eagerly to his touch despite your mind's protests. You're caught in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions - fear, excitement, shame, and an overwhelming, undeniable pleasure.

"Look at yourself," Curtis commands softly, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror. "See how beautiful you are like this."

You force yourself to look, to really see yourself - flushed cheeks, wide eyes, chest heaving with each ragged breath. Curtis behind you, his large frame dwarfing yours, his hand between your legs, the other still gently but firmly covering your mouth.

Curtis's eyes meet yours in the mirror, his gaze intense and predatory. The fear in your eyes seems to excite him further, his grip on you tightening slightly.

"Don't worry, sugar," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “I knew all those pretty tears were just for show, you want this just as badly as I do, and I've got you."

His words send a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and arousal coursing through you. You're acutely aware of how vulnerable you are, how easily he could overpower you if he wanted to. And yet, there's a part of you that thrills at the danger, at the forbidden nature of what's happening.

Curtis's fingers continue their skilled exploration, drawing involuntary gasps and moans from you that are muffled by his hand. Each deliberate movement sends waves of sensation coursing through your body, igniting a fire that you never expected to feel. Your body continues to betray you, responding to his touch despite your mind's protests, creating a tumultuous conflict within you. The thrill of the moment is undeniable, yet a flicker of apprehension lingers in the background, whispering the dangers of being caught in such an intimate entanglement, making it impossible to pull away.

"Damn, that’s a pretty sight,” a familiar voice jolts you nearly out of your skin, and you whip your head around to see Ari looming in the entry.

Curtis stops only for a moment and looks over his shoulder at the other man. "Didn't anyone teach you it's rude to interrupt?"

Ari shrugs, all nonchalance, and palms the large bulge pressing at the front of his jeans.

Your heart races, caught between exhilaration and apprehension. The sight of Ari standing there, a blend of curiosity, mischief, and lust in his eyes, adds an element of unpredictability that excites and terrifies you.

Curtis grunts, then says, “I’m not stopping, but I’ll share.”

Your jaw would have dropped to the floor in that moment had Curtis’s hand not been holding it in place, securing your response and anchoring you to the present. The idea of a threesome, tantalizing yet fraught with risk, swirls in your mind. How did this escalate so quickly? The thought of being discovered sends a shiver down your spine, but the allure of the forbidden is intoxicating, pulling you deeper into the moment.

You sob, overwhelmed and afraid, but it’s muffled as Curtis turns your body around with him, his grip firm yet reassuring His fingers are still moving, relentless and sure, and you can hardly focus on anything else. Your mind races through the possibilities, the dangerous thrill of being discovered adding an exhilarating layer to the encounter. Would Ari join in, or would he simply stand by and watch, adding to the intensity of the moment? The idea of indulging in such a forbidden experience fills you with a mix of dread and excitement, as if you’re teetering on the edge of a cliff, about to leap into the unknown.

Ari pulls a privacy curtain you had failed to notice across the opening to the booth before taking the few short steps to close the distance between you. This sudden shield from prying eyes heightens the anticipation, transforming the atmosphere into one charged with desire and unspoken possibilities. Ari traces the back of his forefinger down the column of your throat, down your sternum, between your breasts, and then circles around the expanse of your new tattoo, eyes roaming over the beautiful design.

Not to be forgotten, Curtis tweaks your clit, cracking the pleasure that had been mounting like a whip, demanding an orgasm from your body, and you tremble in his arms as you cling to him. Each flick of his fingers sends shivers through you, igniting a fiery response that leaves you gasping for more.

“Knew you were such a good girl,” Ari praises, and your chest surges from his praise, his low, sultry voice invading your mind. Then, he unzips his jeans, the sound echoing in the booth like a promise yet to be fulfilled. He goes to sit on the black leather chair, pushing his pants and boxer briefs down around his ankles, revealing the enticing sight of his big, throbbing cock.

Curtis lifts you with ease and places you in Ari's lap. The transition is seamless, and you find yourself enveloped in the warmth of Ari's embrace. His hands instinctively find their way to your hips, grounding you as you settle in. With Curtis standing close, the dynamic continues to shift and evolve. You can feel the heat radiating from both men, each one eager to exact pleasure, and you hope the fire doesn’t consume you completely.

“Take off your bra,” Ari directs you.

Your eyes widen over his immediate demands, but, nervous as you still are, you don’t hesitate to do as he says. His hands on your hips hold you steady while you reach around to unclasp, and then you let it drop and fall away, biting your lip. Ari groans appreciatively, and grinds your core against his cock. You let out a shuddering breath at the friction, but it’s a singular sensation for only a moment, because then Ari dips his head and takes one of your breasts into his hot, wet mouth, and you gasp. Your fingers tangle immediately into his hair, looking for some kind of anchor.

Vaguely you hear the rustle of fabric from Curtis close behind you, and then you feel the heat of his now naked chest press against your back. He nips lightly at your neck, but then pulls back slightly. He rucks your loose skirt up over your hips, but then he rips the fabric of your panties right off, and you yelp in surprise.

Ari’s quick to muffle your sound by shifting his lips from your breast to your mouth, but his lips and tongue are no less eager, and the kiss is delicious and demanding, and you’re easily almost completely lost in him again. But Curtis has also discarded his gloves, and now his warm, calloused hands move slowly up your thighs before squeezing your hips, then start to knead the flesh of your round ass.

Curtis places a hand between your shoulders and pushes you forward, coaxing you against Ari’s chest. Ari takes the hint and leans back in the reclined chair, pulling you with him. This exposes your most intimate parts to Curtis, and he spreads you open, then presses his tongue flat against your cunt, eliciting a moan that, luckily, is swallowed up by Ari, who’s still eagerly kissing you, and now kneading your breasts in his large hands. Curtis continues to lick and lap at your cunt, but then his tongue begins to move up, and then suddenly he’s tonguing the tight rosebud of your ass, and you whimper and freeze.

Ari stops when you stop, pulling away to look at your face and assess the situation.

Curtis teases you with his tongue for another moment before pausing to pull away as well.

“Not a virgin,” he guesses, “but never had anyone play with your ass, have you, sugar?”

You close your eyes and try to take a steadying breath, your, “no,” soft and barely audible.

“Do you want him to stop?” Ari asks, and you can feel him studying your face.

Your mind is racing, but you remain frozen, unsure of what to say.

Ari brings one hand up to stroke your cheek. You lean into his touch and open your eyes again, but still don’t speak.

“Keep going,” he says to Curtis, and Curtis does.

While Curtis works your tightest hole with his tongue, still splaying your cheeks open, Ari reaches down to slip two fingers into your dripping cunt, and you eagerly rock your hips for more. Ari smiles, then brings you down with his other hand to kiss you again.

When you’re positively humping his hand, Ari pulls back from kissing you again with a darker laugh than you expected, but you’re so far gone between them, you think of stopping or slowing at all now.

“Open your eyes,” he commands.

But it doesn’t register.

He withdraws your fingers and slaps your pussy, making you gasp and groan, and your eyes whip open.

His dark blue irises are barely visible, pupils blown wide with lust, and it just cause another surge of electricity to run through you to your core.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?”

And then it’s his cock nudging at your entrance.

“Ari,” you groan.

“Since that first fucking minute I saw you in the lobby,” he says. He taps his cock aggressively against your swollen clit, and you keen for him. “Knew you were an innocent little thing, and I wanted to absolutely ruin you.”

You bite your lip, unable to look away from him, and think of that day, too.

“We both wanted to ruin you,” Curtis adds. And his finger takes over where his tongue had been, working gently but insistently into your ass.

You moan softly, but the two men hear it and exchange a glance over your shoulder. Ari looks pleased.

“I didn’t touch you that day, only teased you, enticed you. I knew you’d be back,” he growls. “Shame I didn’t have you on my chair again, but that wasn’t going to stop me.”

He pushes your lips back to his for another devouring kiss, but it’s brief.

“You’re desperate to be filled up, aren’t you?” he asks.

Closing your eyes again, you whimper and drop your forehead to his, but your answer is undeniable. “Yes.”

“You didn’t have to wait this long, but we won’t punish you for that. We’re patient men.”

“It only gave us more time to think of all the ways we’ll take you apart, sugar,” Curtis murmurs against your shoulder, then presses open-mouthed kisses against your hot skin there.

And then Ari is slipping his cock inside of your cunt, slow, insistent, and doesn’t stop until he’s into the hilt, pushing all the air out of your lungs. He’s so big it feels like he’s everywhere, and it takes you concentrating on making your lungs work again to suck in deep breaths, impossibly full of him.

But as full as you feel, it wasn’t everything. Because while Ari was slipping his cock inside you, Curtis had removed his fingers, and now his thick cock was splitting you open and finding room in a hole that had never been filled before, and it was unfamiliar pain, but already pressing into impossible pleasure, and really, you had to press your palms to the leather on either side of Ari’s head and focus on breathing and only breathing if you were going to survive this.

And then they both began to move.

In and out and in and out and inandout.

And you were sure you were going to black out or bliss out from how full you were and all the sensations surging through your body and –

read the next part: TAKING YOU HOME

I make no apologies for this. Send me your medical bills as needed.

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[nhaaauyen]

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨ The Ghost of You ୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

"This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong // To love that well which thou must leave ere long." -William Shakespeare (Sonnet 73)

PART II: MY HEART DREAMS

zombie apocalypse sevika x reader au!: sevika was the super soldier; a killing machine driven solely by survival. you were nomadic, constantly searching for something in whatever was left of the world—till you met her.

series masterpost: part I // part III // part IV // part V // part V

wc: 7.1k author's note: ahhh tysm to everyone reading!!! your comments literally make my day and the taglist DAMN!! seriously I'm so grateful <3 also i apologize for this chapter being so long, i tried to stfu but it still ended up being 7k

One thing you should've realized sooner was that nothing escapes Sevika's notice in Zaun. 

You were barely a week into your new routine, legs burning as you struggled through your morning run. The only sound you could hear was of blood pounding in your ear—and the addition of a rumbling engine approaching from behind.  

You whip your head back, unsure if your ears were deceiving you but there it was, a truck filled with Sevika's scavenging team catching up, with Sevika herself leaning out the passenger window.

"Pick up the pace, pantry girl!" she shouted, her voice laden with amusement. "At this rate, you'll be old and gray before you join my team!"

Her crew howled with laughter as they sped by, leaving you red-faced and fuming in a cloud of dust.

Now, weeks later, you collapse onto the grass beside Caitlyn, both of you panting heavily after finishing your lap around the neighborhood. The memory of Sevika's taunts still burns, spurring you to push yourself harder during training.

Just as you're about to ask if you should do another lap, something ice-cold presses against your neck. You yelp, jerking upright in surprise.

A dark-haired woman hovers over you, a familiar smirk playing on her lips and a frosty water bottle in her hand. "Still jumping at shadows, I see," she teases. "I'm not sure I can use someone so easily startled on my team."

You glare up at her. "That's rich, coming from you," you retort. "Your late-night victory parties make it impossible to get a good night's sleep around here."

"Feeling left out? The invitations open, you know. Just bring your own drink."

"How about an invitation to join your team instead?"  You counter.

Sevika laughs, the sound was simultaneously frustrating and oddly captivating. "Maybe focus on not tripping over your own feet first, pantry girl."

After you finish your training for the day, you take a quick shower and make your way to the pantry for your shift. But as you approach, you notice something odd - your name isn't on the schedule. Again.

"That's the third time this week," you mutter.

Caitlyn notices your confusion. "Maybe they're cutting back on hours?" she suggests, but her tone is uncertain.

With your unexpected free time, you find yourself spending more time with your makeshift family. Family dinners were something you always had, but for the first time you didn’t have to worry about where or what your next meal would be.

Powder chatters animatedly about her latest inventions, while Caitlyn asks questions that make the kid’s eyes go wild with excitement. Vi listens with a mix of amusement and pride, occasionally ruffling her sister's hair.

Vander sits at the head of the table and he interjects with the occasional piece of wisdom that makes Vi interrupt to remind him that they were too old for lectures or dad jokes, drawing laughter from the group.

As plates are cleared and the conversation winds down, Powder asks to star gaze again, which Vander wants to say no to when everyone has work tomorrow. But then he looks outside and he’s reminded that things weren’t the same, you could afford the leisure to enjoy the skies now.

So you all move to the roof, continuing your evening under the stars. Powder points out constellations, making up stories for each one. Vi playfully argues with her interpretations, while Caitlyn offers more scientific explanations. You lean back, taking in the moment, feeling truly at peace for the first time in a long while.

As the night deepens, drowsiness sets in. One by one, you bid each other goodnight and retreat to your beds.

Morning arrives sooner than you'd like and you meet Caitlyn early, both of you squinting against the bright sunlight as you make your way to the training grounds. The morning sun warms your face as you and Caitlyn wait on the grass for Grayson to arrive with your sparring partner. You're chatting idly, speculating about who it might be when you hear approaching footsteps.

Your eyes widen as you see Grayson walking towards you, but it's the figure beside her that makes your breath catch. Sevika strides across the field, her presence somehow always able to steal your attention. She's wearing dark wash jeans that hug her legs and a sleeveless, tight black tee that shows off her toned arms with her usual red shawl draping over her left side.

Grayson offers an apologetic smile as they reach you. "Sorry we're late. There was a situation to handle."

Sevika merely grunts, barely acknowledging you and Caitlyn. Your heart races—if she was here to watch you were so screwed, there was no way Sevika would let you have a match without her snarky comments. 

"Marcus was supposed to be here today," Grayson explains, "but it seems he's... incapacitated."

You and Caitlyn exchange knowing looks. It's not the first time Marcus has been too drunk to show up, and frankly, you're relieved. Even when sober, he's a total ass.

"So... who are we sparring with?" you ask, though you have a sinking feeling you already know the answer.

Grayson gestures to Sevika. "Someone owes me a favor."

Sevika rubs her head, clearly annoyed. "Can we get this over with?" she grumbles.

Grayson chuckles. "She's just grumpy because she's hungover," she explains to you, then turns to Sevika with a raised eyebrow. "Which you wouldn't be if you didn't drink like it's water."

Sevika scowls, softly as she crosses her arms. "It's my day off," she retorts. "You never come to my parties."

"I drink on my own time," Grayson replies primly, adjusting her stance.

"You're too much of a goody two shoes," Sevika snorts, rolling her eyes.

You and Caitlyn look at each other in shock, from the fact that the two captains are bickering like siblings and they’re going to be sparring with Sevika. 

"Sevika?" Caitlyn sputters. "You want us to spar Sevika?"

"It's better practice for you two - Sevika has years of fighting experience. You can learn some new techniques today,"  She reassures. "So, who's first?"

"I'll get it over with," Caitlyn acquiesced, her voice steady despite the nerves you can see in her eyes.

As Caitlyn approaches the sparring area, Sevika reaches for her shawl. In one swift motion, she removes it, and your eyes widen in shock. Where you expected to see flesh and bone, there's instead a gleaming bionic arm. 

Intricate gears and pistons are visible beneath panels of transparent material, offering glimpses of the arm's inner workings. As Sevika flexes her fingers, you can see these components whirring and sliding with precision, each movement accompanied by a soft, almost musical hum.

Sevika doesn't react to the stares, her face stony as if this reveal is inconsequential. You feel a pang of guilt for gawking, but you can't help wondering - was this a war injury, or a result of the walkers? 

Caitlyn recovers from her shock like you do, now both of you feeling more intimidated by the strength and skills of the woman before you.  You watch as Sevika easily deflects Caitlyn's first attack, countering with a move so fast you barely see it. Caitlyn hits the ground hard, she barely has any time to react when Sevika strikes again.

"Come on, cupcake," Sevika taunts, using Vi's nickname for Caitlyn. 

The use of the nickname catches both you and Caitlyn off guard and she narrowly dodges a punch.  You had no idea how much Sevika had been paying attention to your group.

"Is that all you've got?" The captain says smugly.

As the sparring continues, you find yourself studying Sevika's every move. The way she anticipates Caitlyn's attacks, the efficiency of her counterstrikes, the subtle shifts in her stance.  

But it's more than just her fighting skills that captivate you. It's the fierce concentration in her eyes, the slight smirk that plays on her lips when she lands a particularly good hit. It's the way her muscles flex as she moves, the sheen of sweat that forms on her skin under the hot sun.

You're so lost in your observations that you almost miss when Grayson calls an end to the match. Caitlyn is panting, bruised but not beaten, while Sevika looks barely winded.

"Your turn, rookie," Sevika calls out, her eyes locking with yours.

Sevika takes a menacing stance, her bionic arm whirring softly as she flexes her fingers. You try to quell your nerves, reminding yourself of all your training.

The match begins, and Sevika doesn't hold back. She lunges forward with a quick jab that you barely dodge. Her follow-up kick catches you in the side, and you stumble back.

"With those sparring skills, you'll be dead by now," Sevika taunts, circling you like a predator.

You regain your footing, countering with a series of quick strikes that force Sevika to step back. "As far as I'm concerned, I don't think any walkers would be punching me back anytime soon," you retort.

Sevika smirks, effortlessly blocking your attacks. "There are still survivors out there, some who might not be as merciful as me." she says, suddenly dropping low and sweeping your legs out from under you.

You hit the ground hard but roll quickly, narrowly avoiding Sevika's follow-up strike. "I’m only alive because you needed the meds.”

“But you’re alive regardless?” She counters.

“Urgh, you're the worst, you know that? You just like watching me suffer-"

Your words are cut off as Sevika charges forward. You manage to sidestep, grabbing her arm and using her momentum to throw her off balance. For a moment, you have the upper hand, landing a solid hit to her midsection.

Sevika grunts, a flash of surprise in her eyes. "Well, it's not a bad view," she quips, her voice slightly breathless.

You're holding your own better than you expected, your training with Grayson evident in your improved technique. You even manage to land a few solid hits, each one making you more hopeful that you could finally prove yourself to the captain.

But Sevika is still Sevika. Just when you think you might have a chance, she changes tactics. As she unleashes a flurry of lightning-fast strikes, you are able to block the first few, but the last one catches you off guard, sending you stumbling back.

Before you can recover, Sevika is on you. With a move so smooth it seems almost effortless, she sweeps your legs again and follows you down. You’re on the ground immediately, the air knocked from your lungs, and suddenly Sevika is on top of you, pinning you down.

Her face is inches from yours, her breath hot on your cheek. "There's always next time, pantry girl," she says, her voice laced with arrogance.

Fury and frustration surge through you—at the nickname, at losing, but most of all at yourself for the way your heart races at her proximity. You struggle against her hold, but it's futile—you lost and couldn’t prove you were ready. 

The days blur into a haze of relentless training after the match, your body pushed to its limits.  Yet despite your efforts, something feels off. Each time you miss a target or fumble a move, Sevika's face flashes in your mind. Your focus wavers, distracted by unnameable thoughts that surface whenever you recall her challenging gaze or the smugness in her voice. 

The sharp crack of gunfire echoes across the makeshift shooting range. You squeeze the trigger, watching as your shot goes wide, missing the target by a good margin. Expaseration bubbles up inside you for missing yet again.

Next to you, Caitlyn's sniper barks and the center of her target explodes. Again. You can't help but feel a twinge of envy at her precision.

"Excellent shot, Caitlyn," Grayson praises, her eyes gleaming with approval. "I think I’m looking at my newest sniper."

Caitlyn beams at the compliment.

Grayson turns to you, her expression apprehensive. "Something on your mind? You seem distracted today."

"No, I'm fine," you mutter, trying to focus on the target in front of you.

Grayson raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "Well, if you keep shooting like you did today, you can expect another month before Sevika would even consider accepting you on her team."

At the mention of Sevika's name, you can't help but frown. Grayson catches it immediately.

"What's wrong?" she probes, her voice a mix of curiosity and concern.

You hesitate, then the words tumble out. "I just... I don't get her. I don't know how to convince her I deserve that spot on the team when she's so infuriating and stubborn."

To your surprise, Grayson laughs, a warm, rich sound. "She hasn't changed since we were deployed together, then."

Your ears perk up at this. "You were deployed with Sevika? Can you tell me about it?"

Grayson shrugs. "What is there to tell? We were in the military together for 10 years and she's a brilliant soldier."

"That's all to her?" you press, not satisfied with such a simple answer.

Grayson gives you a long, appraising look. "What is it that you really want to know about her?"

The question catches you off guard. You open your mouth to respond, then close it again. What do you want to know? But more importantly, why do you want to know? You realize you don't have an answer, and the realization unsettles you.

Seeing your confusion, Grayson's expression softens. "Sevika is not the best fighter," she says quietly.

"What?"

Grayson chuckles at your expression. "Don't get me wrong, she's an advanced and skilled fighter. But she's not unbeatable." She pauses, her eyes distant as if recalling memories from long ago. "What makes her different... She is loyal and fierce. That woman fights till her very last breath. If she's going to hell, she'll drag you down with her."

Your mind whirs at this information. Who is Sevika beyond the soldier everyone knows her as? You find yourself hungry for more details, more glimpses into the woman behind the tough exterior.

Then you catch yourself, anger flaring up. Why do you care? Why does it matter who Sevika really is? She's just the leader of the scavenging team, nothing more.

You shake your head, trying to clear these thoughts. "Thanks, Grayson," you mutter, turning back to the target.

As you raise your gun again, you can feel Grayson's knowing gaze on you. You take a deep breath, trying to focus on the target. But in your mind's eye, all you can see is Sevika—her cocky grin, her ruthless determination, the mystery that surrounds her.

You squeeze the trigger, and this time, your shot flies true, hitting just off-center. Progress, but not perfection. Much like your understanding of Sevika, you realize. You're getting closer, but there's still so much more to uncover.

⁺˚⋆｡°✩

A slight breeze rustles the leaves as you wait by the usual tree, checking your watch. Caitlyn's late, which isn't like her.   You’ve been waiting for 20 minutes already and this was the Caitlyn, the one who’s never even been late to a shift at the pantry.  

You’re about to turn back to the house when suddenly you hear shouting from the road a few blocks away. Without thinking, you immediately sprint towards the commotion.

When you arrived, the scene before you was the last thing you would expect—Caitlyn and Vi were in each other's faces, their voices rising with each exchange. A burly guy from Sevika's crew is half-heartedly trying to separate them.

"You fucking liar!" Caitlyn screams, her face flushed with anger. "Why would you join without telling me?"  

You momentarily pause from trying to pull the fighting couple apart, in all the years you knew Caitlyn she had hardly cursed; Vi must’ve fucked up, bad.

Vi's stance is defensive, her hands raised. "It's safer for you this way!"

"Safer?" Caitlyn's laugh is bitter. "I didn't ask for a white knight, I asked for a partner that's honest!"

The guy from Sevika's crew steps between them. "Come on, ladies, this ain't the place-"

Caitlyn whirls on him. "How could you let her in Sevika’s group like this?"

He backs up, hands raised. “Listen, I had no part in this. Vi was the one who asked, and Sevika accepted her."

Caitlyn's face contorts with anger, and she lunges forward. You jump in, grabbing her arms. "Cait, stop!"

But as you hold her back, his words sink in. "Wait, WHAT?" You turn to Vi, shock evident on your face. "She accepted you to join her scavenging and not me?"

Vi looks away, guilt written across her features. Your blood boils. You release Caitlyn and round on the guy. "Where the HELL is she?"

He crosses his arms, defiant. "I don't have to answer to you."

You step closer, your voice low and dangerous. "Oh, trust me. You want to tell me."

He hesitates, then sighs. "Fine, but it's your funeral. She's in her garage."

Without another word, you turn on your heel and march away, leaving Caitlyn and Vi to their argument. You had your own annoying, lying woman to deal with.

The garage comes into view, its large door open. As you approach, you catch sight of Sevika bent over a motorcycle. Her back muscles flex as she works, visible beneath a black sports bra. Her jeans hang low on her hips, revealing the band of her boxers. For a moment, you were unable to comprehend the sight of Sevika in clothes that weren't military green. 

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself before addressing her. "Vi and Caitlyn are out there fighting. I thought you should know."

She turns, surprise briefly flickering across her features before her trademark nonchalance slides back into place. "And that concerns me... how exactly?" she questions, wiping her hand with a rag. "Last I checked, I wasn't running a relationship counseling service."

"Because of all the bullshit you gave about me not being ready? Why won't you let me on the team?" you demand, your voice cracking with desperation. "You let Vi join. What makes her so special?"

"You don't know what you're asking for."

"Then tell me!" you shout, stepping closer. "I'm sick of your cryptic bullshit, Sevika. I deserve to know!"

Something in Sevika snaps—Her composure shatters, replaced by a raw, barely contained fury. "Fine? You want to know why?" She grabs your arm, her grip tight enough to bruise. "Let's go."

She drags you out of the garage, marching through the community with large strides. You struggle to keep up, confused and a little scared by this sudden change in her demeanor.

As you reach the outskirts of the settlement, Sevika slows down. You follow her gaze and feel your blood run cold. Wooden crosses stretch out before you, maybe 20 to 25 of them, each marking a grave.

"This is why," Sevika grits.

You stand there, frozen, as Sevika turns to face you. Her eyes are blazing, but there's something else there too - something melancholic you've never seen before.

"Do you know how many empty graves we have?" she asks, gesturing to the crosses. "It's a fortune if you're able to bring a body home, or if you can spend someone's last moments together."

She walks among the graves, her fingers trailing over the rough wood of a cross. "This is the type of thing we have to deal with. Every time we go out there, we risk not coming back. And if we don't come back, this is what's left of us. A wooden cross and a memory."

"I've had to bury too many people. I've had to tell too many families that their loved ones aren't coming home. And sometimes, I couldn't even give them that closure."

She turns back to you, her eyes now hard, and gone was the brief moment of vulnerability you saw before. "This is why I won't let you on the team. Because I can't... I won't add another cross to this field."

The weight of her words hits you like a physical blow. But instead of understanding, you feel a surge of anger.

"So what?" you snap, surprising both yourself and Sevika. "You keep me locked away like I'm Rapunzel in a tower? Look around, Sevika!" You gesture wildly at the desolate landscape beyond the settlement. "There is nothing left to lose. The world is gone!"

For a moment, she's silent, and you think you might have finally gotten through to her. But then her expression hardens, a bitter smile twisting her lips.

"You can say that," she says softly, her voice barely above a whisper, "until you have the world in your hand and it's ripped away from you."

The words hang in the air between you, heavy with meaning. You see a flash of something in Sevika's eyes - a deep, soul-crushing resignation that makes your anger falter.

"There is always something to lose," she continues. "And every time you think you have nothing left to lose, life finds a way to prove you wrong."

She steps closer to you. "You think you're ready to face what's out there? You think you have nothing to lose? Trust me, pantry girl, you have no idea what loss really is."

"What are you living for if you're constantly scared of losing?" you challenge, your voice rising. "This isn't living, Sevika. It's just... existing."

Sevika's eyes flash dangerously. "You don't understand-"

"No, you don't understand!" you interrupted, shoving her back. "We're all going to die—But I'd rather die out there, trying to do something I wanted, rather than rot away in here!"

You’re angry and you know you just provoked her but you can’t help but shove her back again, frustrated at her but, even more so at yourself.  You were terrified, of fucking course you were—but who wasn’t in the world you were living in? 

With a growl, she lunges forward, shoving you hard. You stumble back, shock and anger coursing through you. Without thinking, you retaliate, pushing Sevika with all your might.

The two of you grapple, a tangle of limbs and fury. Grass and dirt kick up around you as you roll on the ground, each trying to gain the upper hand. Sevika's bionic arm hisses as she tries to pin you down, but you're quicker, fueled by frustration and pent-up emotion.

With a burst of strength, you manage to flip Sevika onto her back. You straddle her waist, pinning her arms to her sides, which fall limp immediately. Both of you are panting heavily, faces flushed and hair disheveled.

"I won," you gasp out, your chest heaving. "You promised. If I could beat you, you'd let me join."

Sevika looks up at you, her expression unreadable. "When will you learn patience?" 

The proximity is intoxicating, and for a moment, you're distracted by the feeling of Sevika beneath you, the rise and fall of her chest, the intensity in her eyes. 

"You can't expect me to live like this," you insist, your voice softer now but no less passionate. "What are you living for if you're constantly scared of losing?"

Something flickers in Sevika's eyes—pain, fear, or something else entirely. Without warning, she bucks her hips, throwing you off balance. In one smooth motion, she shoves you away and stands up.

You scramble to your feet, ready to continue the fight, but Sevika's next move stops you cold. 

"Sevika!" you call out, your voice cracking. "Don't you walk away from me!"

But she doesn't stop, doesn't even look back. 

You're left standing there, alone among silent tombstones and empty graves, watching her retreating figure disappear into the gathering dusk.

⁺˚⋆｡°✩

The weight of defeat settles heavily on your shoulders as you stumble into your room. You collapse onto your bed, fully clothed, as the scene replays in your mind. Sevika's face haunts you - not her usual cocky smirk or searching gaze, but that fleeting expression of raw pain you glimpsed just before she walked away.

There's something deeper, a hollowness in your chest you can't quite name. It's more than just the sting of losing an argument or watching her retreat. 

There was something else in her eyes that truly unsettled you—that flash of fear when she looked at you, as if dreading you might become another one of those wooden crosses she would have to mark.

Just as you're about to drift off, a sudden burst of loud music jolts you awake. Shouts and laughter follow, unmistakably coming from a few blocks down—right where Sevika's house is located.

You groan, pressing your pillow over your head. Of course, another one of her infamous parties. But as you lie there, listening to the distant sounds of celebration, a part of you can't help but wonder what Sevika looks like when she's relaxed, surrounded by her team. 

After an hour of futile attempts to sleep, frustration wins out.  You sit up, running a hand through your hair in annoyance. You throw on a hoodie and stomp towards the door, grabbing the nearest pair of slippers without looking.  

The cool night air does little to calm your irritation as you march down the street. You pound on the door, ready to give her a piece of your mind.

To your surprise, it's Sevika herself who answers. Her usual scowl morphs into a grimace as she recognizes you, a lit cigarette dangling from her lips. The sight of her throws you off balance—her gray wife beater clings to her frame, and her cargo pants are smeared with what you hope is just mud. Despite the mess, she looks... good. Annoyingly so.

"Do you know what time it is?" you demand, trying to focus on your anger.

Sevika takes a long drag of her cigarette and then blows the smoke out slowly. Her eyes drift downward. "I like your slippers," she remarks.

You glance down, mortification washing over you as you realize you're wearing Powder's pink bunny slippers. "Shit," you mutter, but quickly shake it off. "Why do you have to be so loud? This might come as a surprise but some people are trying to sleep!"

"Worried you won't get enough sleep to organize properly tomorrow?" Sevika taunts, leaning against the doorframe. "Make sure you don't mix up the soup and fruit cocktail cans."

Her dismissive attitude ignites your temper. "Fine, whatever. You're acting like a complete ass," you spit out.

Sevika's eyebrow raises slightly. "Is that all? Because if so, I've got a party to get back to."

You're about to retort when you catch a glimpse of the interior of her house. It's a mess—empty bottles strewn about, gear haphazardly tossed in corners. 

"What?" Sevika's voice snaps you back to reality.

"I... nothing," you stammer, taking a step back. "Just turn the music down, okay?"

Sevika studies you for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then, without a word, she turns and disappears into the house. A few seconds later, the volume of the music noticeably decreases.  Sevika.. Was being obedient? 

She reappears at the door, taking another drag of her cigarette. "Anything else?" 

You open your mouth, then close it again. What else is there to say? That her apparent disregard for what you want infuriates you? That her words about from earlier today won’t leave your mind? That despite everything, you find yourself drawn to her in a way you can't explain?

Instead, you just shake your head. "No. That's... that's all. Thanks."

As you turn to leave, Sevika's voice stops you. "Wait."

You pause, looking back at her expectantly.  You notice that there is a hesitancy to her this time, like you were fragile and if she got too close you might shatter.

"Wear proper attire tomorrow, okay?" she says, her tone businesslike. "And check in at the armory with Vi."

You blink, confused. "Vi? What does she-"

Sevika cuts you off with an exasperated sigh. "Do I really have to explain it to you, rookie?"

"Yeah, cause I don't get it," you retort.

"You're on the team."

For a moment, you just stare at her, unable to process what you've heard. Sevika refuses to meet your gaze, suddenly finding the wall very interesting.

As realization dawns, a wide grin breaks out across your face. Sevika immediately cuts in, "Don't think I'm going soft on you and giving you anything you want. This is an easy spot, but-"

You can't help the shit-eating grin that spreads even wider. "Thank you," you say, your voice sincere despite your obvious excitement.

Sevika just nods, her expression carefully neutral. "Yeah, okay. Now get out of here before I change my mind."

You nod enthusiastically. "Right. Yes. Thank you again. Good night!"

You turn and walk away, trying desperately to keep your cool. But as soon as you think Sevika has fully closed her door, you can't contain yourself anymore. You do a little excited jump right there in the street, pumping your fist in the air. Then, grinning like a fool, you take off running towards home.

What you don't see is Sevika, still standing in her doorway. She watches your celebratory dance with a mixture of disbelief and something akin to fondness. Shaking her head, she finally closes the door, a small, bemused smile playing at the corners of her lips.

⁺˚⋆｡°✩

The early morning sun casts a golden glow over the farm as your team arrives. The dilapidated barn looms ahead, its red paint peeling and faded. Overgrown fields stretch out to your right, while a rickety fence encloses what must have once been a thriving chicken coop.

Sevika's voice rings out across the coop.  "Alright, gather the chickens."

You blink, certain you've misheard. "Wait, what?"  

You weren’t expecting your first mission to be on a farm, much less to gather the animals. But your confusion is quickly overwhelmed by the sight of your teammates scattering, chasing after a flock of very startled, very loud chickens.  

"How do you expect us to get food?" Sevika asks, her tone matter-of-fact.

You turn to her, eyebrow raised. "Why aren't you helping?"

The air seems to still as everyone freezes, shocked by your boldness. Sevika's eyes narrow dangerously.

"I'm your captain," she states, as if that explains everything.

A reckless grin spreads across your face. "What? Afraid you can't catch a single chicken in front of your people?"

Sevika's jaw clenches, and for a moment, you wonder if you've pushed too far. Then, to everyone's surprise, she vaults over the fence and into the coop.

"You have a mouth on you," she growls, eyeing a particularly plump hen. "That's going to get you in trouble one day."

You hop in after her, heart racing at how she easily accepted your challenge. "Only if I'm caught," you quip back.

The two of you circle the hen, which clucks nervously. You lunge forward, but the bird darts away.

"You're scaring it!" Sevika snaps.

"Me?!" you retort. "You're practically harassing the thing!"

As you both scan the coop for a chicken that wasn’t running like it had its head chopped off, a voice pipes up from outside the fence. "They’re bickering like an old couple!"

In perfect unison, you and Sevika whip around, shouting, "Don't you dare say that!"

The moment the words leave your mouth, you freeze, looking at each other in shock, and then it’s replaced quickly with a scowl as the determination to capture the chicken sets back in.

Okay, so barreling at full force towards the animal was not the way to go considering everyone was already filling their cages.  You mentally devise a plan to corner the chicken, gesturing for Sevika to move to the right while you go left. But as you both rush forward, the hen squawks indignantly and darts between you in a perfect straight line.

Unable to stop your momentum, you and Sevika collide, tumbling to the ground in a tangle of limbs. You find yourself pinned beneath her, acutely aware of her weight, her warmth, the scent of her body wash and gunpowder that clings to her skin.

Sevika pushes herself up slightly, her face inches from yours. "This is dumb," she mutters. "I don't need to prove anything."

"Mhmm," you manage, your brain short-circuiting from the proximity.

She grunts, rolling off you and standing up. "There's one last chicken," she says, brushing dirt from her clothes. "We better get it."

You turn your attention back to the task at hand, scanning the coop for that last elusive hen. The last hen clucks nervously, darting between the wooden beams of the coop. You and Sevika exchange a quick nod, wordlessly agreeing on a strategy.

Sevika crouches low, her movements slow and deliberate as she inches towards the left side of the coop. You mirror her actions on the right, creating a human barrier. The hen's beady eyes dart between you, sensing the trap.  

"Easy now," Sevika murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. 

The hen makes a break for it, but you're ready. You lunge forward, herding it back towards Sevika. She reaches out, her fingers just brushing the chicken's feathers—

A deep rumble suddenly echoes across the farm, stopping you both in your tracks. You both freeze, exchanging a brief, confused glance. In that instant, the barn door explodes outward with a deafening crash. Splinters of wood fly through the air, unleashing a horde of walkers that stumble and lurch towards you.

"Fuck! Run!" someone screams, and chaos erupts.

Your teammates scramble to grab their chicken cages, but you're transfixed by the sight of Sevika, who's inexplicably clutching the chicken she just caught to her chest with her left arm. Without thinking, you grab her right hand and bolt, pulling her along.

As you run, weaving between broken fences and overgrown crops, the absurdity of the situation hits you. Here you are, fleeing from a walkers horde, hand-in-hand with your usually stoic captain who was so dead set on capturing a single chicken she risked a few minutes just to get it. Suddenly, Sevika bursts out laughing, a rich, genuine sound you've never heard before.

"This is so fucking stupid," she gasps between chuckles.

Her laughter is infectious, and soon you're both giggling like maniacs as you sprint towards the getaway car. The wind whips through your hair, you look over at her and see her tiny ponytail bouncing, her eyes sparkling with unadulterated joy.

As you approach the car, you see one of your teammates dancing in the driver's seat, bobbing their head to music that was loud enough you could hear it from a distance.

Sevika's eyes widened in disbelief. "What is that moron doing?"

"Start the car!" you yell in unison with Sevika.

"Start the fucking car!" echoes from all directions as your team converges on the vehicle.

In a mad scramble, you and Sevika end up diving into the trunk together, barely missing from crashing into each other. The car peels out, tires kicking up dust as you make your escape. You twist around to look back, seeing the walkers crest the hill behind you, their grotesque forms looking like ants as you get further away from the farm.

As the adrenaline starts to fade, you become acutely aware that you're still clutching Sevika's hand. You both look down at your intertwined fingers and quickly release a faint blush coloring your cheeks. 

You glance at Sevika and are struck by the sight of her wide grin, revealing the charming tooth gap from the first time you met her. She looks lighter somehow, the usual weight of responsibility temporarily lifted from her shoulders.

"Maybe you should put the chicken in the cage," you suggest, nodding towards the bird still tucked under her arm.

"Right," Sevika says, quickly stuffing the bewildered chicken into a nearby cage.

Free of your feathered companion, you lean out of the trunk slightly, letting the wind rush through your hair. The music from the car's speakers drifts back to you, and you close your eyes for a moment, savoring the smell of the woods and the high from the adrenaline rush.

When you open your eyes and turn back, you catch Sevika staring at you. She's not looking at the receding farmland or checking for pursuing walkers. Her eyes are fixed solely on you, an unreadable expression on her face. In this moment, bathed in sunlight and the afterglow of survival, she looks different. Softer. There was no reminiscent of the super soldier you knew her as.

As your eyes meet, Sevika doesn't look away. Instead, her grin softens into something more intimate, more real. You feel a warmth bloom in your chest, a feeling you can't quite name but don't want to let go of.

The car hits a bump, jolting you both and breaking the moment. Sevika clears her throat and turns to secure the chicken cage, you weren’t sure if had imagined the smile or not.

As you return to Zaun, the adrenaline from your narrow escape fades into a collective sense of relief and camaraderie. The team works together to unload the chickens, and despite the close call, everyone seems to be in high spirits.

"Hey, how about another bonfire party?" someone suggests, and a chorus of agreement follows.

To your surprise, Sevika turns to you. "You should come," she says gruffly. "You’re part of the team now."

"Yeah, sure," you reply, fighting to keep the eagerness out of your voice.

As the team disperses to prepare, you notice Vi sprinting towards a certain someone waiting for her at the entrance. "Caitlyn!" Vi shouts, throwing herself into Caitlyn's arms and kissing her passionately.

You raise an eyebrow. "Well, those two made up fast," you mutter to yourself.

Later that evening, you find yourself seated on the cool ground in front of a roaring bonfire. The flames dance hypnotically, casting flickering shadows across the faces of your teammates. The air is filled with laughter, the clink of bottles, and the rich aroma of smoke and grilled food.

You're nursing a beer, listening intently as the others regale you with stories from previous hunts. Sevika sits not far from you, perched regally on a lawn chair. She's quieter than the others, but you notice her lips quirk up occasionally at particularly funny or outrageous parts of the stories.

As the night wears on, a cool breeze picks up. You shiver involuntarily, the chill seeping through your thin shirt. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Sevika glance your way. Without a word, she shrugs off her shawl and leans forward, draping it over your shoulders.

The gesture catches you off guard. You want to thank her, but something in her posture tells you she'd rather not draw attention to the act of kindness. No one else seems to have noticed, and you wonder if this is just how Sevika takes care of her team—quietly, without fuss or expectation of gratitude.

You pull the shawl tighter around you, inhaling the faint scent of cigarettes and gunpowder that clings to it. 

The conversation lulls for a moment, and then someone pipes up, "Hey, remember that time at the hospital in Piltover when we-"

"Uh," another teammate interrupts, glancing nervously at Sevika. "Sevika’s here."

All eyes turn to your captain. Sevika just grunts, taking a long swig from her bottle. You can't tell if it's approval or indifference, but the storyteller takes it as permission to continue.

The crackling fire seems to dim as the storyteller begins, his voice low and reverent. "It was before Zaun was established. Sevika, Silco, Grayson, and some of us old veterans had been cooped up in the hospital for weeks. But it was time we got out, find new people and a place to stay."

You lean in, curious, sneaking glances at Sevika, whose face remains impassive.

"The hospital was completely surrounded," the storyteller continues. "But we had weapons and vehicles. Silco had this completely badass idea to add extra defenses to the ambulance in the garage."

A chorus of whoops erupts from the group, and you see a flicker of pride in Sevika's eyes.

"The plan was to pile as many people as possible into the ambulance. But in the garage," The storyteller's voice drops. "There must've been an opening or something. Somehow, those bastards found their way in."

You find yourself holding your breath while Sevika's face is impassive, but you notice her grip tightening on her bottle.

"It happened so fast. One second Silco was up, the next he was down, a walker lunging for his throat. And Sevika," He shakes his head in awe. "She didn't hesitate. She threw herself between them."

All eyes turn to Sevika. You glance at Sevika, trying to imagine her and the emotions in that moment. 

"Go on," she says. "Finish it."

The storyteller hesitates, unsure. "We had to go back in. We cleared the area, but the walker's teeth sank into her arm instead of Silco's neck." the storyteller says softly. "Even then, she didn't stop fighting. She bashed its skull in with her free hand, then turned and took out two more, saving a few more of us.  But the bite meant she was infected…"

There's a collective intake of breath around the fire. You feel a chill that has nothing to do with the night air.

His voice trails off, and Sevika finishes for him. "So Silco ended up amputating my arm," she states.

"When I die, I'll die on my own accord.  Not because some mindless corpse decided it was my time."

The silence that follows is profound. You see a mix of awe, respect, and a hint of fear on the faces around you as Sevika's words hang in the air.

Then, as if a spell is broken, cheers erupt. "Fuck yeah, boss!" someone shouts, and others join in.

Sevika just grins as she stubs out her cigarette and stands.  “I’m calling it a night, try not to have too much fun."

You remain rooted to the spot even though you know you should go give the shawl that's still draped around your shoulders back.  

As you’re watching Sevika’s retreating form, you're struck once again by how little you truly understand her. Just when you think you've got her figured out, she does something that shatters your assumptions. Her rare, genuine smile from moments ago was like a crack in her armor, offering a glimpse of something you're not sure you were meant to see.

You recall Grayson's comment; If she's going to hell, she'll drag you down with her. But Sevika isn’t just dragging anyone down—she's fighting, clawing her way up. She’ll endure whatever comes, as long as she’s the one who gets to forge her own path.

Sevika faced death itself, and she emerged victorious.

taglist:

@mirconreadzztuff22 @lils-1979 @veoomvroom @schmoni @theacedragon0w0

@poxismind @kittykatz1227 @archangeldyke-all @abbyssgf @ivorydevil

@lez-zuha @iamastar @jellyfishrnice @anemoxlys @l0vel3tterl0ver

@lavendersgirl @h0pe-scotch @lia-winther @kittykatz1227 @dontknowwhenispawned

@sevikitty @sarahduke @raphaellearp

[hl-obsessed]

✨ FIC REC ✨ | 10-30k

•°•°•°•°•°•

Snowed In by @germericangirl

(E, 15k) Harry wants to fly back home to London after visiting his family for the holidays but a snow storm causes his flight to get cancelled. What happens if the hotel only has one room left for him and the beautiful blue eyed stranger?

✨ Running Home To You by sincewewereeighteen

(E, 18k) Harry can’t help but look at his iTunes library. What he did not expect was to see his name there: Harry Styles, and a half-played album. He has to ask.

“What’s that you were listening to?”

“Oh, it’s this guy, uh- Harry Styles?”

“Hm. Is he any good? I’ve heard a lot about him.”

“He’s proper famous, isn’t he?” Louis smirks. “He’s good, believe it or not. Many people don’t give credit to teenage girls, but I don’t regret listening to him.”

“D’you have a favorite?”

“You’ve probably heard Sign of the Times, because everyone’s heard this song…” Louis checks his screen. “Don’t know. This is the best one musically speaking. But there’s something about this one,” he points at his screen, “From the Dining Table. It’s just so sad. Makes one wonder what this guy went through.”

“That tough?”

“Sad.” Louis replies. “Anyways. Don’t be prejudiced and give the pop star a listen. He’s really talented.”

OR: the one in which Harry and Louis take the same plane, and even though they're both sort of nomads, they end up finding a home in each other.

give you my fever by @thelovejandles

(E, 10k) x-factor era. harry's never had an orgasm before, louis gives him his first

If Tomorrow Never Comes (We Had Last Night) by @fallinglikethis @all-these-larrythings

(M, 15k) Louis accepts the call without bothering to look at the caller ID. Only Zayn would be a big enough asshole to call him at two in the morning. This fucking better be important.

“This fucking better be important,” Louis greets.

On the other end of the line comes a soft giggle. “Li, you don’t usually curse. I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but I like it.”

 Yeah, that’s not Zayn. Louis sighs, his anger melting into resignation when he realizes that it’s some poor bastard probably drunk dialing his ex or something. “Sorry, mate. Think you’ve got the wrong number."

Based on this Tumblr prompt: "Accidentally called your number while drunk asking for a ride and you actually came au"

sweet, where you lay by @infinitelymint

(E, 27k) Louis Tomlinson is a twenty-eight year old succesful actor living in New York. Harry Styles is a twenty year old up and coming model and coincidentally also the one who turns Louis’ world completely upside down.

or, Louis is Zachary Quinto and Harry is Miles McMillan. Falling in love was always in the cards for them.

stop the world ('cause i wanna get off with you) by @thedevilinmybrain

(E, 12k) Five times Louis and Harry get walked in on at the worst time, and one time Louis makes sure they don't.

✨ i'm a captain on a jealous sea by @thedevilinmybrain

(E, 15k) It’s not that Louis doesn’t like Nick. He is, if he’s being honest, kind of indifferent. Louis gets that Nick is just doing his job most of the time, being loud and prying, not having boundaries. But it’s just a little too much for Louis’ taste. Louis, who has learned over the years, when to be loud and when to know that coy is the game. But, it doesn’t matter really. He’s not required to like everyone, doesn’t have to make nice with them outside of having a camera shoved in his face. He can let Nick be Nick and it shouldn’t affect Louis at all.

Except.

What Louis actually has a problem with is the way Nick Grimshaw looks at Harry.

✨ some things fade (some never do) by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed

(T, 25k) Matching tattoos. He’d never thought he’d be the type for tattoos to begin with, let alone matching or magical ones, but once Harry had put the idea in his mind it had never quite managed to disappear. And it had made sense. With their relationship a long distance one, this was simply another way of feeling close to one another. Of knowing where the other was, how they felt. It had made so much sense.

Back then.

*

Three years after their break up, Harry calls.

In a sky full of stars, be my Northern lights by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed

(T, 13k) It's one of those nights there's nothing on the telly that Louis absently scrolls through Tinder. After swiping left on a bunch of profiles he comes face to face with a picture that stops him in his tracks. The picture is..almost sweet. It’s a boy with brown curly hair, wearing a very low cut yellow blouse, paired with a black jacket. He’s got a smile on his face and his tongue sticking out, but it’s not in any way lewd or suggestive. He just looks like he’s having a good time, and something about the innocence of it has him swiping right rather than left.

He’s barely checked the other pictures on the boy's profile before Tinder confirms that he’s got a match. The shots are so different from the pictures Louis is used to on Tinder - half naked boys who are smoldering at the camera - that he can’t help but smile.

It quickly turns into a frown when he opens up the message he’s just received.

Harry: Hello!

Harry: Thank you for swiping right

Harry: I have a proposition for you

Treat You Like A Gentleman by @justanothershadeofblue

(E, 12k) 5 times that Harry Styles was unsatisfied by his dates, and one time Louis Tomlinson helped him find what he had been missing.

Sweet as Honey by TeamLouis

(E, 21k) Louis has always been shit at cooking. When he discovers Sweet as Honey on Instagram, owned by chef Harry Styles, he intends to mock him by recreating his recipes with his awful skills, posting photos on his own Instagram account, Nailed It. It's all fun until Harry asks to meet him.

✨💎 To Have Touched the Sun by @ireallysawanangel

(E, 12k) Louis has been taking suppressants ever since he first presented as an omega, and because of that, he has his heats dwindled down to just once a year. When he suddenly goes into heat in the middle of a supermarket only two months after just having one, he immediately knows something is wrong. It takes the act of a very kind stranger in that supermarket to change Louis' life forever.

Losing Focus Every Time You Speak by @causticsunshine

(E, 19k) “Harry,” he starts, his tone cautious, “what’s this I’m seeing?”

A roll of Harry’s shoulder and the thing catches the light again. “Hm? I dunno what you’re talking about, Lou,” he replies, voice suddenly strained.

Oh. So that’s how it’s going to be.

“This,” Louis reiterates as clearly as he can—by abruptly spreading Harry’s cheeks as much as he can through the confines of his knickers, in turn causing Harry to grunt and Louis to reveal a, fuck, a small bubblegum-pink gem in the shape of a heart, rimmed by a sliver of silver, “you remember now?”

“Oh.” All faux innocence. Louis removes his hands as Harry slowly pulls himself back up, a little red-faced and with a chunky throw in hand. “That? It’s nothing.”

“Nothing?” Louis repeats, trying for gentle surprise.

Louis returns from an impromptu work trip and enjoys some long-awaited alone time with his favorite person. Lace knickers and a princess plug might have a role to play in things.

✨💎 Eyes on the Horizon by @uhoh-but-yeah-alright

(E, 12k) Freshly dumped, recently fired, and about to turn 40, Harry's friends insist on taking him skydiving to cheer him up. His younger and extremely fit instructor Louis makes him even more nervous than the idea of jumping out of a plane, but both may be exactly what he needs to turn his life around.

Waste the Night by @wicked-archer

(E, 12k) Harry is excited to finally see his favourite band in concert and his favourite person, the guitarist of the band, Louis Tomlinson. Little does he know what the night has in store for him.

✨ Prelude to Forever by @always-aqua

(M, 13k) @StylinHarry: So I kinda fell for a boy yesterday at #ChiPride. Kissed & fireworks went off. Literally. He’s a drama teacher. Goes by “Louis” but I prefer Sunshine. Very pretty. The prettiest. Got separated & I’m a fucking idiot who forgot to get his number. Anyone know him? #helpfindsunshine

Or, Louis and Harry meet at Pride in Chicago and spend the day falling for each other before getting accidentally separated.

Be Mine? by @softfonds

(E, 11k) Getting dumped the week before Valentine's Day wasn't in Harry's plans, and neither was being dragged to a concert to forget about it. But a sign Zayn brings manages to turn his night around in more ways than he hoped for.

Blinded by the Colors by @fallinglikethis

(M, 20k) After a heated fight with Harry, a maudlin, inebriated Louis Tomlinson questions his presence in his boyfriend's life. In fact, maybe all of One Direction would be better off if Louis had never been put in the band to begin with.

He never expected to wake up in a world where that's exactly what happened.

Or an It's A Wonderful Life Au where Louis Tomlinson realizes just how important he really is.

✨ Keep Me Closer by @zanniscaramouche

(T, 18k) Louis expects Harry to react poorly, maybe even file a formal complaint and that’s gonna suck ass but Louis won’t say shit cause he knows he deserves it, so he prepares an apology before Harry’s even turned around.

What he doesn’t expect is Harry to fucking drop.

Moonlight Minx by @jacaranda-bloom

(E, 15k) The one where an unexpected storm strands Harry on an island, Louis gets an unexpected house guest for the night, and love might just be the most unexpected thing of all.

Love On Air by @jacaranda-bloom

(E, 19k) The one where Louis doesn't have a type, no matter what Niall says, but if he did, it'd probably be the guy currently trapped in his radio studio and grinning back at him from across the desk.

✨ Every heart but mine by @rainblou

(E, 17k) In the years leading up to his presentation, Harry hoped that his soulmark would appear, that his soulmate would present first and Harry would have irrevocable proof that his other half was out there, waiting for him.

Years later, he's given up on waiting and with a heat coming up, his eyes are set on Louis Tomlinson to help him through it.

redamancy by @yu-taeil

(G, 10k) dystopian au.

Harry lives in a world where, at the age of 18, everyone gets paired up with a life mate, a perfectly compatible partner. When Harry gets Liam Payne as his soul mate, he thinks nothing of it. It must be true love, right?

But then he meets Louis Tomlinson, a 19 year old who is already partnered up. Harry starts to fall for Louis, and it is not unrequited, but it is against the law.

Harry had always known he’d end up breaking some rules, he just hadn’t quite imagined the magnitude of them.

Sooner or Later by orphan_account

(T, 12k) Louis suspected he might have a little crush. It was harmless enough. It wasn't as if he were any sort of threat to his sister's relationship with Harry, was it?

✨💎 I Just Wanna Give You Love by @lululawrence

(NR, 18k) Graham Norton appeared on the screen introducing his guests and out of nowhere, everything in Louis’ world was turned upside down.

Louis gasped as he intently took in the man on the screen, smiling and waving from his seat beside Sir Ian McKellen.

“Oh my God,” Louis said before it all sank in as to what it meant. “Holy fucking shit!”

“Louis William, you watch your mouth,” Jay said. “What has got into you?”

Feeling like a madman, his palms to his cheeks, Louis couldn’t help the tears of surprise, relief, and fear as he turned to his mum. “What colour are his eyes? What do you call that colour?”

“Louis, are you telling me that the man on the screen, Harry Styles, is your soulmate?”

Or the one where the world is in black and white until you meet your soulmate, but Harry is world famous and Louis is...well...not.

Where Life Changed Us by ExiledQueenCatalog

(E, 22k) Omega Harry has a rare genetic disorder where he has no sense of smell. This has lots of odd effects such as him not being able to smell his own scent but most brutally, not being able to scent the way his inner omega desires. It also leaves him as a sort of odd-ball to the community, leaving him becoming touch starved as no one wants the omega who can’t scent. Until finally, he meets the right alpha.

Hint: I want to be yours by @greenblueish

(M, 11k) or, the one where Harry unconsciously starts acting like Louis' alpha after they spend his rut together and Louis finds ways to make sure Harry's affection doesn't end.

'cause I want you (for the worse and for the better) by @absoloutenonsense

(NR, 26k) When Louis gets invited along to Anne's wedding, Harry is prepared to let people think whatever they want about their relationship. That's what Louis said -- let people think whatever they want. That changes when Louis sees his ex, who turns out to be Anne's future husband's son. Now, Louis wants to prove that he's an omega that an alpha could want, and Harry wants to get through this weekend without letting his best friend figure out he's in love with him.

We Don't Need No Piece of Paper (From the City Clerk) by @2tiedships2

(M, 26k) Harry sat on his bed and stared at the pile of luggage by the door. This was really happening. He was being shipped off to America to get married.

In a matter of months, he would be bonded to an alpha his father had chosen for him. Someone that Harry knew nothing about. Not even his name.

Party Lines by @absoloutenonsense

(E, 25k) Louis works for a phone-sex operating company, collecting credit card information and transferring calls to different operators. On a particularly busy night, everyone is booked up, and one caller has been patiently waiting for more than a few minutes. In a split second decision –one he’s probably going to regret– Louis picks up the call himself.

*

Or Louis accidentally becomes a phone sex operator.

Losing That Reactive Spark by @crazyupsetter

(E, 11k) Prompt 73: ABO fic where Louis is cursed. He can’t touch anyone without a spark of electricity going through his body, causing him to blackout. He meets Harry, the only one the curse doesn’t work on for some reason.

(Gimme a Solution and) Watch Me Run With It by @lululawrence

(NR, 21k) This second, this minute, this hour, this day... hell, this week the trend was for Harry to feel overwhelmed. He was having a hard time not drowning in all of the responsibilities he had heaped upon himself and it had exhausted him. Beyond that, really. He had gotten to the point where he didn't even remember why he used to be so focused on getting back on stage every night.

Fine. Maybe this trend had been going on for even longer than a week. It might have even been months.

Harry is getting dangerously close to his breaking point, and that is when things start to change, starting with a favorite childhood sweet a member of the touring crew leaves for him in his dressing room.

Catching a Partner by berzerkshires

(M, 25k) This documentary follows the story of two people who fell in love in the last place you'd expect. Louis is a detective at the Boston Police Department investigating a trail of recent murders. Harry is the latest victim who survived an attempted murder and is sent to live at a safe house with Detective Tomlinson as the killer is still at large.

This is their story.

No Place I'd Rather Be by @iamasphodelknox

(E, 29k) Harry's had a crush on his stepfather's friend for six years. A small crush. A tiny crush.

Honestly, if you don't look at Harry's dozens of poems about Louis Tomlinson, the crush is practically infinitesimal. They haven't even had a conversation.

But then a car wreck prompts them to finally have a conversation.

Christmas works its magic, Harry pines, Louis fonds, and they just might make it.

baby shut your mouth and turn me inside out by ballsdeepinjesus

(E, 10k) Harry and Louis meet in a mcdonalds. louis is everything harry needs.

The Joke's Always On The Joker, Baby by @greenfeelings

(M, 16k) It’s all about an anonymous one-night stand that turns Harry and Louis’ lives into a rom-com cliché, provides Liam with the perfect opportunity to finally approach the man of his dreams, and confirms Niall that he’s always right.

Hold You With My Hands Tied by @letthemusicmoveyou28

(E, 12k) "There’s a club in town called Habit, and they’re looking for a bartender to cover evenings and weekends. No previous experience required."

Harry furrows his brows. He’s never been to Habit, but he certainly knows what type of club it is. BDSM.

It’s not the ideal position for an Omega surely, but beggars can’t be choosers he supposes. He tilts his head to the side. “And they would be ok with an Omega filling that role?”

Janet scans her eyes over the job description before nodding. “Yes, actually it says here Omegas are preferred but not required.”

Harry sighs.

“When do I start?”

(Or the one where Omega Harry loses his bakery job and is forced to take a temporary position bartending at a local BDSM club. It turns out to be not so bad. Especially when he catches the eye of the owner Louis, who also happens to be a gorgeous Alpha).

if you show up there then you know I will too by @harrybirthdaytoya

(M, 11k) Everyone in Louis' life keeps getting married, but he's almost 30 and single. (He's also grumpy about it). Harry sings in a wedding band, and Louis may have a bit of a crush.

I've Always Liked the Fireworks by QuickedWeen

(T, 12k) When alphas and omegas reach the age of twenty-one they are required to attend a Proving Day ceremony. Omegas watch as alphas do their best to compete in events, show off their skills, and prove how good a mate they can really be.

The whole thing is a bit ridiculous, but Louis Tomlinson has always dreamed of finding his mate. He's got two unsuccessful Sheffield Proving Days under his belt and decides to go for the much more competitive one in Manchester. His goal is to play his best, leave it all out on the pitch, and hope that one of the omegas watching just happens to be his mate.

Hold My Heart by Awriterwrites, phdmama

(E, 14k) Or, the one where famous Louis Tomlinson offers his hand and a lot more to his seat mate on a transatlantic flight.

Torn On The Platform by conscious-ramblings

AU where harry and louis are strangers but they always get the same train to work in the morning and one day harry falls asleep on louis’ shoulder. louis wants to be annoyed because harry just broke a least seven rules of tube conduct but he looks so soft and peaceful that he just lets him sleep and wakes him ever so carefully when it’s his stop. it happens again and again until it becomes a regular thing where louis will let harry snooze and then gently nudge him awake, hand him the cup of coffee he took from him so it wouldn’t slip and spill everywhere and send him off with a “have fun at work, love” and after the tenth time harry isn’t even embarrassed anymore.

Cue changing work schedules, missing each other for the first time in weeks, panicking because “i don’t even know his name, why didn’t i ask for his name”, dramatic waiting on platforms and finally bumping into each other again when they least expect it

✨💎 Tell Me Your Secrets, Teach Me Your Ways by @insightfulinsomniac

(E, 23k) The day after turning eighteen, Omega Prince Harry is expected to meet with eligible Alpha suitors. It's a day he's been looking forward to all his life, desperate for romance and yearning to find his mate.

What he doesn't expect to find, however, is that he's one half of a historic soul-tied union: a phenomenon last seen over a century ago. Luckily, his future mate is everything he ever dreamed of finding.

But... that's just the problem. Louis makes Harry feel things he's never felt before and has no way to describe. He knows that once they're married, he and Louis are meant to mate, but what that actually entails is a mystery…

Who better to ask about these feelings than his mate-to-be?

AKA: A regency-ish royalty AU featuring overeager soulmates who maybe give into temptation a little too much on their secret journey of sexual discovery.

The way you move for me baby (lights me up like nobody else) by @thechavier

(M, 12k) Those green eyes found him again and he struggled thinking of what to say.

"You look beautiful in that dress" It's what he landed on. (...) "You know I wrote a song back in the day called little black dress?"

He didn't imagine the little spark in his eyes, nor the pleased smirk on his lips, nor the tongue peeking out to wet them.

"Why do you think I chose it for tonight?"

or the rolling stones awards au

Talk Dirty To Me by BriaMaria

(E, 13k) Or the one where Harry is absolutely terrible at dirty talk so he asks his best friend to teach him. And the one where Louis knows it's a catastrophically bad idea but agrees anyway.

Because Sparrows Mate For Life by @builtyouahousefromabrokenhome

(E, 24k) Harry’s tattoo gets done all wrong, and he needs someone to fix it.

Bend Like a Hairpin by @letthemusicmoveyou28

(M, 26k) Or the one where FBI agent Harry Styles screws up in a mission and he has one more chance to save his career. He’s going undercover as a stripper to investigate a strip club suspected of money laundering. There’s just 2 problems: 1) Harry can’t dance, and 2) he might be falling for the club’s owner Louis, who just happens to be the prime suspect.

Celebrity Discount by @loaded-gunn

(T, 27k) Louis fell for Prince Harry when he was ten and Harry was eight and peeked behind the Queen’s elegant gown for his first public appearance—a shy smile and a mess of curls. He fell for him when he caught Lottie putting up a magazine cover of Harry on her wall and all she had to say for herself was, “He’s such a good person, yeah?” and, yeah. He fell for him when Harry gracefully accepted his demotion. He fell for him when Harry came out and stayed out.

tonight's not over (come over and stay) by @adoredontour

(E, 17k) Zayn doesn’t say anything for a moment, pausing and worrying at his bottom lip. Finally, he asks, “Have you heard that Cox guy is coming out with a new song?”

Louis freezes, fingers hovering over his keyboard where they had been typing his password.

“No, I hadn’t,” Louis says truthfully. “Where did you hear that?”

“Tell anyone this and I’ll kill you, but I’d consider myself a big fan,” Zayn says. His face doesn’t change in expression, completely serious as he admits this to Louis.

“Big fan? Like run a blog and everything?”

or, harry is a famous singer and louis is a student who just wants to write his novel

where sirens fear to tread by @stylinsoncity

(M, 28k) in the royal line, there are only a select few sirens with the ability to transform into humans once a month. harry is one of those sirens. he mostly sticks to the rules. when he's on land, he reads his books. he buys copious amounts of ice cream. he keeps to himself. that is until he meets a lifeguard named louis working at one of the luxury resorts on St Barts. and unfortunately, harry doesn't know the rules about falling in love at all.

✨💎 When The Stars Come Out by @briannamarguerite

(E, 30k) Louis was about to reassure Harry further when Gemma bounded back over to him, slipping a hand around Louis' waist. Harry’s eyes followed the movement. And then that lip gnaw again. Christ. How was he supposed to survive this weekend?

He turned his attention to Gemma as her palm came to rest right above his heart. Laying it on a bit thick, dear. Or at least that’s what he hoped he’d conveyed with the simple tilt of an eyebrow.

In response, she went up on tiptoes and laid a noisy kiss on the hollow beneath his cheekbone. Louis didn’t take his eyes off Harry, who watched the scene play out with a blank expression. Once Gemma dropped back to the ground, Harry shifted away from them, his gaze dropping to his feet.

[Or the one where Louis pretends to be Gemma's boyfriend for her horrid cousin's wedding but fate is a nasty jerk and throws Harry in his way.]

•°•°•°•°•°•

part 1 (+50k) | part 2 (30-50k) | part 4 (<10k)

[the-badger-mole]

i've scrolled through your blog quite a bit, and one thing i haven't seen you talk about (though maybe i just didn't scroll far enough) was the scene where sokka is wearing the kyoshi warrior uniform.

i've seen so many people say "wow, the show is really taking a stance against toxic masculinity! sokka wore a dress! it humbled him!" but if you actually watch the show . . .

it wants you to laugh at that, actually. it's one of my least favorite lines from aang. sokka is repeating something suki told him about what different parts of the uniform represent or something like that and he's looking pretty proud, but then aang walks by and says "hey sokka, nice dress" and laughs. and that's never walked back and aang's never punished. so the narrative is clearly pushing that . . . what aang said was okay? but if what aang said was okay, then that means that sokka wearing a dress was meant to be laughed at, right?

anyway, i don't understand how people watch that scene and take away "wow, that scene was so progressive! sokka wore a dress!" yeah . . . we as the audience are supposed to laugh at it. it's supposed to be funny. because boy in dress can't be taken seriously! it has to be a joke!

and i don't understand how people watch that scene and like aang. that was his first major red flag for me. like??? it get that he's twelve and a little shitster, but as you've said so many times, his age isn't an excuse to not hold him accountable. in fact, his immaturity means he should be held extra accountable, so he doesn't end up the same little shitster as an adult. the end of that episode should have had aang apologize to suki (who was also there when aang made that comment iirc). that comment was demeaning and threw away the entire point of that scene (and episode, honestly) in just four words. it demeaned the kyoshi customs and culture, and it completely throws away the point of suki telling sokka "if you want to train with me, you have to follow all our traditions" (paraphrase, not real quote).

anyway aang sucks, and if you've already talked about this, sorry. but if you haven't would love to hear your thoughts.

Of all the things that I think are wrong with Aang, his sexism is pretty low. That's not to say I don't think he's got the potential to be sexist, I just don't think it's occurred to him. He grew up in a gender segregated monastery. I wouldn't be surprised if Katara was the first girl around his own age that he'd spent any time with at all. What were the monks teaching him about girls, and why they were separated? Who knows? Clearly, he knew enough to ridicule Sokka for wearing a dress and to be upset about being played by a woman in EIP. Aang does have some sexist tendencies, but I don't think he's thought through the implications enough to actually be outright sexist. His worst moments have to do with his cultural biases, and an Air Nomad superiority complex. One of his worst moments had to do with him being disrespectful towards Bato about SWT artifacts.

The most obvious potential example of his sexism the way he treats Katara throughout the series, at least on the surface, but while there was absolutely sexism involved in how Katara was treated, I think it was more sexism in the writers room than in Aang himself. With Aang, it was less sexism, and more general entitlement. He wanted Katara. Her feelings didn't matter, not because she was a girl, but because she was an object. I've pointed out before that Nightmares and Daydreams proved that he understood what enthusiastic consent is, but he never even considered her feelings enough to think that she could turn him down. He was very entitled about Katara's affections and even her body, but I don't think the entitlement would've been different if the genders were reversed (look at how entitled Korra felt to Mako), or even if Aang and Katara were both boys.

I'm sure someone else could find more examples of Aang being overtly sexist- in fact, I remember reading a really good meta about Aang's reaction to being played by a woman in EIP, but I can't remember who wrote it. Still, don't think it matters if Aang was sexist or not. He's more toxic than Sokka ever was, even without being overtly sexist. Sokka, at least, was open to learning and growing, and his sexism was never that deep. But Aang? He never gets the opportunity to grow, because his bad traits are never called out like Sokka's are. I'm convinced that Aang benefits from cute privilege within the fandom. If Aang was a year or two older, and looked like Sokka or Zuko, he'd be right up there with Ross Gellar and Ted Mosby in the Nice Guys Who Aren't Actually That Nice pantheon, but because he's got big ears, chubby cheeks, and a big ol' smile, he gets a pass.

[dragonridernoobie]

Is it okay to request for LoZ where Gannon sees human nomads

( let's say Humans are near extinction due to lack of magic but also fear from other races due to literally absorbed anything magical but unaware of it )

And he fell in love with a human scientist who give him medicine that cure few illness that plage his home, but tragic the humans all killed by the Hylians soldiers making turn evil as he hold his love as she tells him she loves him

Hc pls

A legend of zelda reqest??? My first one???? Yes, please!!!!! 🥹🥹🥹 also, I'm going off the breath of the wild world. Since it makes the most sense and easier to lay out for the story. I had a bit of fun making this XD

Ganondorf X Human Reader

Ganondorf was on his way to the castle of hyrule. He hated the fact that those Hylians took his land, but he had to face the fact they were here if it meant keeping his people alive.

They finally left the desert and were now in the rocky land. Alot cooler. During their low travel, they come across the same bridge they always pass every tike they come through here.

So they pass over it with no problem, intel the bridge started to crack and brake. Ganondorf pushed his gaurds away before it fully broke. ganondorf and his horse to fell in the river below.

His gaurds yelled out to him but saw he was not there. He was swept with the river. So his guards follow the river, in hopes of finding their king.

.....

Ganondorf wakes up with the harsh light shining on him. He used his hand to block out the light while sitting up. He noticed right away that his torso was bandaged up. When he looks around to see who did it, he saw somome with his horse.

(Fun fact, it's actually a female horse, and its name is Phantom)

It was surprised since Phantom never let anyone near, only him. When she noticed Ganondorf was awake, she comes over. The person watching.

Ganondorf stands and sees Phantom was also bandaged up. He turns to the figure, expecting it to be a Hylian, was surpised by ehat was looking at him.

It wasn't a hylian. He had never seen that species before. He takes a step forward and bows down in on one knee. He says that he is great full for saving and helping him and his horse and he is entirely in her debt.

When he tried to stand, he got a sharp pain in his side and struggled. The person cokes over and spoke in a language he never heard before.

They lead him on a path and soon into a small hidden village. There, that's where he sees more of this strange species.

The person who was helping him led him into a building and played him on a bed. It was the most comfortable bed he ever felt, too.

He watches them grab some herbs and spices he never seen before and mashed them up. Making it into a paste.

After making the paste, they came over and unwrapped his bandages. He watches how they applied the paste and it hurt, only for a second thought.

He watches amazed how he dose not feel any more pain in that area. Nothing in hyrul works this fast or this good.

He tried to ask them what this was, but they did not understand. They made a hand motion, asking if they where hungry.

When he nodded, they left and returned with food he had never seen before. When he tried it, it was extremely delicious.

Because of his injury, he had to stay with them for a few weeks but that helped him understand this species. Especially the person who helped them.

He found out their name was (Y/N). She had explained to them that they were human normads. An ancient species that is the ancestors of all hylian people. They told Ganon that they were in hiding because there is bearly any of them left and they couldn't absorb magic like how the land or people could.

So they lived their life in secret, keeping themselves hidden from the world. They helped Ganon since they never seen a species like him and he was injured.

He explained to them in their tongue (since he was quick to learn new things) that he was a rare Gerudo male and he was the king of his land.

(Y/N) looked surprised and told him they could help him back to his land. He is thankfully and told them that that was OK.

So, when he was finally healed, they got on his horse while they got on their horse, which he finds qierd looking.

And followed him back to his land. On the way, he met his gaurds that were still looking for him. He shows them (Y/N) and tells them they helped him and most likely saved him and his horse.

The gaurds where amazed by (Y/N)'s looks but nod. They go all the way back to Gerudo town and they welcome (Y/N).

While there time in Gerudo town, they already helped ganondorfs people.

They were able to cure diseases they tought where not able to be cured.

They showed him and his people how to get water from the most unlikely of places.

Also foods that they would never find to.

They showed them how to cook meals, how to cook them, and how to breed foods.

All of this was welcomed by the Gerudos since it helped them become healthy and grow.

It was perfect.

Almost 5 years have passed and Gerudo town is the most healthy town in hyrule.

Ganondorf has fallen for (Y/N), and (Y/N) has fallen for ganondorf.

Ganondorf would come to their hometown often to help their people since they can't deal with magical creatures.

It was perfect but all good things must come to a end.

Ganondorf was on his way to see (Y/N) and their town when he sees smoke.

He rode faster then ever before and what met him scared him to his core.

The town was in flames and ruin. Dead humans all around.

Not just dead humans, dead hyilans to.

Ganondorf was furious. These humans just wanted to live alone, and the hyilans killed then.

He runs to (Y/N)s house and finds her laying on the ground.

When he held her she was besrly alive.

(Y/N) looked at him and smiled. She rested her hand on his cheeks.

"I don't blame you so don't feel guilty....I love you."

Ganondorf held (Y/N) as she passed on.

He was so furious.

He buried every human in the village in a saculed place in the desert.

So they will be remembered.

He is gonna make the hyilans pay.

I hope you love it! I really tried my best and I went off by the stuff I learned about ganondorf from my time of having a massive crush on him (and I still do) so I hope you love it!!!!!

[oneatlatime]

The Guru

Happy 2024 everyone and welcome to the first time I managed to type 2024 without first typing 2023! Oh and also a write up of The Guru. That too.

Me too Iroh. Me too.

So Zuko is riding high on that post-crisis 'time to get my life together' buzz that, similar to 3 am life plans, should absolutely not be listened to. Wonder how long before he crashes and burns? There's literally 2 episodes left, so I'm guessing one and a half?

Poor Sokka. My boy's got anxiety.

I don't know if it's a monk thing, an airbender thing, an Avatar thing, or an Aang thing, but I envy his complete lack of nerves.

How is Appa ok with them splitting up for a week after JUST getting them back?

I paused in a funny place. Have bonk-eyed Appa.

I love them comparing heights. What do you want to bet that that guy on the right was one of the youngest allowed to go fight, and Sokka made a big deal about how they're almost the same age and surely that means he can go too, right?

A lot of these Southern Water Tribe people have dreads or braids. That's neat.

Bato's arm is still messed up. That's some good continuity.

I've found the source of Katara's cheek bones. I guess Sokka takes after his mum.

Ok I know this is a really emotional moment (and it is! Sokka's spent two seasons earning this!) but my brain fixated on the furs and briefly thought they were sky bison pelts.

"It's been a difficult week for me." This guy thinks the Kyoshi Warriors are there to provide him therapy. Someone please just crown the bear instead.

He just gave away literally every relevant plot point AND outlined how to make sure all these plot points don't succeed. Crown. The. Bear.

Maybe if these generals spent less time playing with their giant model Earth Kingdom and more time general-ing, the war wouldn't suck so much?

Pretty.

I LOVE LOVE LOVE the designs, the colour palette, the music, the sound design of this air temple. I love everything about it. If I had the chance to live anywhere in the Avatar universe, it would be here. Even in its ruined state it's such a refreshing contrast to the claustrophobia of Ba Sing Se. I can feel the freshness of the breeze through the screen.

"A spiritual brother of your people" an adult perspective on a near extinct culture! What a resource!

"and a personal friend of Monk Gyatso" an old as balls perspective. He's got to be at least 130.

Anthropology cul de sac time: this guy is so valuable as a resource on the Air Nomads. There's probably parts of Air Nomad culture that Aang can't ever accurately talk about, because he was a kid when he left, and there was almost certainly stuff that the adults kept to themselves, or only shared with the older Air Nomads. This Guru doesn't seem to be an Air Nomad himself, but there's a good chance that there is knowledge that he has, that Aang doesn't. Aang should be nerding out more about this. I'll do the nerding out for him.

Aang just breezes right by that Gyatso name drop like it's nothing. Huh.

Oh hey Toph. I'd forgotten she was in a box. Tweedle dum and Tweedle dumber really are quite the pair. What's their plan for keeping her fed and watered? Actually, these guys apparently don't know that maps exist, so it's probably never occurred to them that humans need sustenance. They'll rock up to the Bei Fong estate with corpse Toph and wonder why they aren't getting the reward money.

Mai gets called out in-universe for shopping at Hot Topic.

Ty Lee's buttering up of Azula is getting less and less subtle as the season progresses. It's a testament to Azula's lack of awareness that she's hasn't noticed that, and that Ty Lee can get away with it.

Azula's right that it's an extraordinary opportunity. The King gave them quite literally every piece of info required to overthrow his kingdom in a 25 second conversation. I can't blame her for taking advantage of such an easy win.

That's a very effective unimpressed face. And a very impressive beard.

It's funny to see a spiritual concept from the real world pop up in a show that includes things like bending and giant fish possession. The mention of Chakras kind of sticks out. They couldn't invent a Avatar universe version?

"Once you begin this process, you cannot stop until all seven are open." Well that doesn't feel like foreshadowing at all.

This episode should be called "Aang's self-care Journey." It's about time the kid had a me day that wasn't avoidance-based.

Fear: Losing Katara - makes sense. Losing control of his powers via fish possession - makes sense. The Fire Lord - makes sense. But the Blue Spirit? He helped. Doesn't make sense.

Guilt: Running away - makes sense, although I thought he'd worked through that with Katara in the storm. Nuking that idiot General's base - makes sense, but boy did he quite literally ask for it.

This guru is saying some wonderfully accurate, and realistic, things. I love that he's not taking the Katara route of denying anything is wrong. He's going for the acknowledge, then heal route. And yes, it's unfair of me to compare the emotional maturity of Katara to a century+ old spiritual expert.

I'm going to ruin the immersion here and point out that Sokka's dad's voice actor voiced a bunch of characters in season 1. He's doing an excellent job, but couldn't they get a unique voice for a character that's so important (albeit offscreen) to Sokka?

That's an incredibly roundabout way of avoiding pointing out that the Southern Water Tribe are active participants in a bloody war. Sure, we can show multiple characters with visible scarring from horrific burns, but heaven forbid we imply that the Southern Water Tribe sinks ships. The parameters for what is and isn't appropriate on this show sometimes make no sense.

"Aren't you listening? I said the rest of you men get ready for battle." He hasn't seen his boy in two years, but fifteen minutes in his company and he knows exactly what needs to be said and how. That's some top tier parenting. Dad of the year. Dad of the century. Only decent Dad in this show that isn't technically an uncle.

"Follow your passion Zuko, and life will reward you." Great advice for your eight year old audience. Also a great way to end up unemployed.

Positive Sokka creeped me out a few episodes ago. Now positive Zuko is freaking me out too.

Pretty.

Back to Chakras! Shame: Burning Katara - makes sense. But that's it? To have the inner peace of mind of a twelve year old who's somehow only ever done one thing that he's ashamed of.

Is there anyone in the earth kingdom who isn't stupid? Once again wondering at the network's standards. Visible burn injuries are fine, but Mai can't say 'Shut up." It's got to be Shush up. Although I do seem to recall of brief time in the early 2000s when Shut Up was treated as a curse on par with Shit or Fuck. Maybe that was just at my school.

Chakras again! Even for a show that often has an A, B, and C plot, this narrative is ping ponging around a bit much.

Grief: nothing major, just a whole nation. Makes a horrific amount of sense. but I don't buy that he can get over grieving the whole world as he knew it by thinking about his crush. That's way too high a pedestal for Katara to be placed on.

Lies: Not accepting he's the Avatar. Interesting that not accepting that he's the Avatar and not accepting that he's a firebender are two different problems.

I see you reusing the opening credits footage. Your blue filters can't fool me.

PRETTY

Illusion: So we're relearning what we learned in The Swamp. Aang's probably the person currently alive least likely to believe in the rigid separation of the nations anyway. This doesn't feel like an illusion he's subject to?

The way this episode dances between its narrative threads is so great. It's all woven in so beautifully. And this makes perfect sense! Toph's spent her life secretly doing things excellently that everyone says are completely beyond her capabilities. Life has taught her that the statement "you are not able to" doesn't apply. Of course immutable laws of bending physics are treated with the same respect as an adult telling the champion of the Earth Rumble that she's can't earthbend beyond breathing exercises. If you told her that humans can't fly, she'd figure out how within the week.

Plot collision incoming.

Interesting that Katara initially recognises Zuko by his voice rather than his scar.

I'm pretty sure that Zuko and Iroh don't know about the whole brainwashing thing, but wouldn't it be hilarious if Zuko introduced himself to Katara as Joo Dee, and his uncle Joo Dee, welcome to the Jasmine Dragon, can I take your order? That would throw Katara into one hell of a moral quandary.

Katara being framed as the solution for Chakra number four comes back to bite Aang, as she's the problem in Chakra number seven. I knew that pedestal was too high.

I've changed my mind. This episode should actually be called "Half a dozen reasons why everyone should just learn to keep their goddamn mouths shut already."

So is anyone going to let Zuko and Iroh know that they're now in immediate danger and need to leave, like, yesterday?

I think the Guru is going for the whole 'if you love them, let them go, and they'll come back to you' thing. Don't cling, in other words. But for the sake of the plot he's suddenly lost his ability to explain Chakras in a way that makes them seem like the logical thing to do. The only clunky bit of this episode so far.

May I introduce you to our Lord and Saviour Toph?

"I am the greatest earthbender in the world." Yes. Yep. Yeah. That's now a quantifiable fact, and it's correct. Look on ye mighty and despair. She's even got Bumi beat.

Earth Tongue Running is a bit wonky looking but it covers a crazy amount of distance.

What's the range on Toph's earth sense? Can she sense what direction Ba Sing Se is?

I hope those two idiots' horse bird is ok.

"You don't know how much this means to me dad." He does. Very much so.

Every word out of this guy's mouth is precision engineered to make Sokka feel like a million bucks and I for one think it's about time someone built him up. Also, seeing this makes me realise how few good parents there are in this show. It's a trope of kids' adventure shows that the parents fundamentally can't be there, but I also think it's a commentary on yet another thing that this war has messed up.

Hey look! Being a man is knowing where you're needed the most, and right now that's in Ba Sing Se, protecting your sister! I love narratives that tie their themes up with a pretty bow on top.

This is Azula laying a trap, right? Which means that Katara squealed to someone about the exact location of Iroh and Zuko's tea shop. Don't like the implications of that.

Photos taken seconds before disaster.

Final Thoughts

This episode was a lot! I mean that in a good way! But I felt a bit like the Maxell Blown Away Guy, the way I kept getting assaulted by yet another plot thread. Don't get me wrong, this isn't a criticism. I think the switching between plot threads and the amount of info in this episode worked 99% of the time. But I'm kind of in awe at the balancing act the writers pulled off and I'm sort of sitting here blinking a bit trying to fit all this stuff in my head. I'm probably going to forget half the stuff I wanted to talk about in this write up, so here goes nothing.

Given the Azula reveal in at the end of last episode, I thought that this would be the episode where the shit hits the fan. I was wrong. I'm glad I was wrong. An episode of set up is required and is nice breathing room, even an episode as busy as this. And I got to leave Ba Sing Se! But this does mean that next episode is going to be calamity after calamity.

Aang and his Chakras: I'm fascinated by this guru. I hope he comes back. That brings the total number of people who were alive before the war started up to three: Aang, Bumi, Guru Patik.

I'm impressed that the run through of the Chakras rarely felt like an info dump. The onion and banana juice thing didn't work for me, but I'm sure it worked for people in the target age bracket. Kids love burp jokes.

So many shows sprinkle in tragic backstories for flavour and then never have them influence the character in the present. It was a nice contrast to see a show take a whole episode to tell Aang "yeah all that sucked. It's ok to feel down about it. Here's how you move forward."

Sokka and his dad: Love it. Love it so much. I love seeing Sokka built up, and he definitely deserves it, but I wonder if this is the reward for a character arc well done, or the set up for a character arc that's about to start? Is his dad's praise his prize for crossing the finish line, or is it so he's built up with farther to fall?

I loved seeing more of the Southern Water Tribe. I loved the fashion. There's a lot of variety in accessories and variations on a few basic elements like those knee guard things. I loved their hairstyles. I loved how cozy and communal that command tent felt. I loved their ships. I wonder how often these guys work out, that they can make loading ramps that are presumably deployed and stashed out of the way frequently, out of whole logs rather than planks. I have a bone to pick with the child-friendly sea mine. But it provides a good set up for a dad joke, so I'll let it slide.

Zuko and Iroh: Of course the one time Zuko is allowed to be in a good place, it's so that he and Iroh both have farther to fall when the inevitable happens. Poor guy just can't catch a break. I'd be mad at Azula for the party crashing that I'm assuming she'll do next episode, but it's been established that Zuko has all nice things taken away from him as soon as he gets them, and I can't blame Azula for being a tool of the universe.

Azula & Long Feng: Azula's acting in Long Feng's prison cell was miles ahead of what Long Feng was doing in front of the Earth King, so I'm wondering if Long Feng has bitten off more than he can chew. Also: conspiring with the enemy to bring down your own city just so you can reinstall yourself as the power behind the throne that will presumably cease to exist as soon as the Fire Nation takes control? That is both treasonous beyond description and an incredible case of shooting yourself in the foot. What's Long Feng's plan here?

Toph and the Dunderheads: it says something about the consistency of Toph's characterisation from her introduction onwards that she breaks the universe this episode and my reaction was "that's neat." It's obviously a huge moment, but of course Toph can do that. Toph can do anything. More importantly, Toph knows that Toph can do anything, so Toph routinely does do anything, especially things she shouldn't be able to do. If you had asked me a few episodes back which character would be most likely to fundamentally redefine bending, I would have said Toph, since she's already fundamentally redefined bending with her earth sense sonar vision.

Also Toph just breaks stuff. Things that come into contact with her cease to function as intended and instead function as Toph requires. Look at the two idiots: both successful business owners, one also a successful hoodwinker of the richest family around. But they come into contact with Toph and their brains take an extended vacation.

Katara & the Generals: this plot was more like an extension of Azula's plot than its own standalone thing. You can't blame her for spilling the news about Zuko and Iroh to someone she honestly thought was Suki. Not much else to say about it, although it's cute that she asks for a table for two at the tea shop. Momo gets a chair!

I like that there's a theme this episode of things going wrong despite the best intentions. No one's acting maliciously here apart from the Antagonists. The Earth King is having an honest chat with people he thought were friends. Sokka vouched for people he honestly thought were the Kyoshi Warriors. Katara shares information about a presumed threat with people she honestly thought were her allies. You can quibble with the wisdom of some of these decisions, but there were all done with good intentions. The best laid plans of mice and men oft go awry and all that. It brings to mind that Star Trek quote about how you can do everything right and still lose. And this set up is going to hit harder when whatever goes wrong next episode happens. And something will go wrong. A few months ago I figured that the Season 2 finale would be a triumph, but all signs are pointing towards a tragedy instead.

This episode was visually stunning, the soundtrack in the Air Temple sections especially was very evocative, and I applaud the minds that could juggle that many plot threads at once without dropping any. This one is definitely going on my rewatch list.

[choerypetal]

Lost Souls / Sejanus Plinth

summary : You were Coriolanus's closest companion, much like Sejanus. While you and Coriolanus seemed to embody the ideal image of true love, the snowfall couldn't dispel the lingering shadow of a phantom, preventing anyone, including Snow, from witnessing the genuine happiness you sought. Consequently, you were implicated in Coriolanus's criminal act, coerced into playing a role in his misdeed alongside Sejanus, only to be betrayed. What if this entire ordeal was a meticulously crafted plan to make Coriolanus face the consequences of his actions and instill in him a yearning for a love that was forever out of reach? The roots of this scheme trace back to District 12, where Sejanus fled, ultimately reuniting with the one he truly loved—you. Two fractured souls, both attempting to escape a haunting past that seemed destined to linger.

ps: english isn't my first mother tongue language so i deeply appolagize for the small errors etc. (which will be corrected shortly) also this story was requested by @anonys-world! hope you will all enjoy. + pls do not copy my work without proper credit as it can be marked as flagged or being ban if doing the case, thank you!

Snow embodied the ethos of his era—a man rooted in tradition when deemed necessary, yet undeniably a shrewd egotist with a proclivity for favoring purity over squalor. In his aspirations for the presidency of Panem, he envisioned himself alongside a woman he once loved and now considered his closest confidante, Sejanus. Sejanus played the roles of both friend and foe in Snow's perception, especially when faced with the earnest plea for forgiveness. This plea stemmed from actions Sejanus himself had committed, contingent upon Snow's willingness to acknowledge his own transgressions. However, Snow staunchly denied any possibility of having erred, viewing Sejanus' contrition as nothing more than a theatrical display in his own eyes.

Fortuitously, Sejanus managed to elude capture, albeit not without difficulty, as he had been keenly aware of his vulnerability during Snow's attempt to eliminate another tribute. Subsequently, when he found himself compelled to take the life of his closest friend. The revelation of these events came to you, ensnared in the intricate web woven by Snow's devious plans. You, too, were drawn into the narrative when Coriolanus's name was invoked in a plea for release, a plea tinged with the assertion that the situation was a grave misunderstanding. Contemplating how this news would reach you, it was likely to be delivered abruptly, considering Snow's peculiar interest in your affairs. This was a certainty that Sejanus was intent on ensuring. And for Snow, it wasn’t enough. 

On a rainy day, you discovered that Sejanus had managed to find his way back home, despite your exile and nomadic lifestyle. Luck favored him, when he had heard that a small group of familiar Peacekeepers aligned themselves to escort you from your current dwelling. This meant that Sejanus had to navigate through various deals and threats to pinpoint your new residence. However, even with his friend Snow's assistance, it was clear that no amount of persuasion could make Snow divulge the truth. Conversations with him only yielded a cascade of lies. Thus, Sejanus began his journey to find you– Find home. 

While you held onto a glimmer of hope that Sejanus would come home, it wasn't because he sought to return to his District and face a father intent on shaming him as a distasteful and ignorant child. Sejanus's primary aim was to reunite directly with you. He longed to hear the soothing cadence of your voice, feel the delicate touch of your fingers in his curls, and share deep, comforting embraces, all while listening to your soft singing. However, this desire became complicated as Snow's intense animosity toward the Plinth escalated, leading him to harbor resentment towards you as well. Consequently, both of you became the targets in the crosshairs of a man driven solely by aspirations of wealth and power. 

Before his departure, Sejanus had intended to pen a letter expressing the sentiments he had shared that night. The letter encapsulated his commitment to stand by you even before tending to the needs of his own people. He envisioned a future building a family with you, whether it meant establishing a life beyond the District or securing an apartment in the Capitol with you at his side. Regardless of the path chosen, Sejanus planned to formalize the relationship upon his return. Despite the vehement hatred from his best friend, Snow, Sejanus remained indifferent, embracing his own pride. The prospect of witnessing Snow's rage only fueled his determination, understanding that Snow would never comprehend a love as profound and meaningful as the one he sought with you.

It was in that same day, you received the letter, and read it as followed: 

                 Dear, Y/N. 

How I yearn to be in your presence. My comrades and I successfully completed our duties ahead of schedule, taking strategic measures in our actions. When our commander learned of my last name, suspicions arose, prompting him to curtail my Peacekeeper duties and training. At my father's urging to return home promptly, little does he know that I won't be heading to District 2 but to our shared sanctuary with you. Fear not; I've discovered through fellow Peacekeepers that they aided in your escort right after the Games. My love, please be patient as I make my way back to our home. I'll be reunited with you soon.

Love, 

Sejanus. 

The letter was a gift from Tigris, and as you held it, you couldn't shake the suspicion that it might not be Sejanus's handwriting, at first. Yet, as you read the words and felt the essence of his expression, it became clear that it was indeed his authentic account transcribed on paper. Unbeknownst to Snow, the spectacle of witnessing his best friend's hanging was merely a staged performance. Sejanus, genuinely fearful that any Peacekeeper might release the cord prematurely, managed to escape District 12 right after the act. Consequently, as long as Snow remained alive and well, both of you would need to conceal yourselves, disappearing from sight to avoid any further repercussions. 

"I disclosed nothing to Snow." Tigris asserted during her visit to assist you in unpacking at your new home. "He's only kept tabs on your well-being and made sure to update you on Sejanus..." Despite recognizing Tigris as a friend, a twinge of sympathy welled up within you, understanding that she was acting only to bring joy to her cousin. With the realization that she still had some family left while you faced complete exile, survival instincts kicked in, overshadowing any sense of pride. "As long as he remains unaware that Sejanus is alive, I'm content with the information." You quietly expressed, hoping not to arouse suspicion when Tigris communicated with Coriolanus in the future.

Sejanus's journey appeared to be heading north. As he received updates about your whereabouts, he understood that in a short while, he would be left alone. The companions who had accompanied him would return to their respective Districts. However, for Sejanus, a compelling need drew him back to the person he cherished the most. This individual had once too, been broken by the actions of Snow, experiencing a sense of betrayal and utter brokenness that could only be healed by genuine love. Sejanus's plans centered around reuniting with the one thing he loved above all else—you.

Arriving home, he was aware of finding you peacefully asleep. Not far away, a cabin caught his eye, and a wave of relief washed over him as he noticed the subtle glow of light inside. It signaled that life had continued to thrive. Approaching, he made his way to the front door, eager to be the first to comfort you as you shed tears in your slumber. These were tears he would gently wipe away, planting a tender kiss on your cheek. After all, the two of you were nothing more than broken souls, central figures in Snow's machinations, destined to be reunited for a chance at living in undisturbed peace. 

The knock on the door that evening caught your attention, and though you suspected it might be Tigris with her usual errands, Sejanus casually heard your voice, responding with a quick "Coming." A surge of relief and comfort washed over him, and excitement filled him at the prospect of seeing your beautiful and now rested face. As the door began to creak open, your face and entire body froze in place. Sejanus smiled at the sight of you, standing right in front of him. You wore your usual flowery dress that he adored, but this time, Sejanus's hair had been shaved into a style that brought out the depth and honesty in the color of his eyes. "Seja—" you began to speak his name, only for him to chuckle at your disbelief. "But Tigris told me you would only arrive later—" He cut you off, gently cupping your flushed cheeks with his hands. His face drew closer, his breath mingling with yours, and your lips almost brushed against each other as he spoke in his defense.

"That doesn't matter right now, Love. Did you receive my letter?" Sejanus inquired, and you nodded, exhaling a soft sigh of relief. "Snow doesn't know I'm here, and neither do my parents. Everyone believes I'm dead. I was planning on bringing you back to the Capitol with me, but father knew about our plan long ago." There was a hint of sadness in his voice as he attempted to spare you from further difficulty. However, in the grand scheme of things, the chaotic planning didn't matter as much to you in that moment. What truly mattered was seeing him here, alive and well.

"You can't imagine how long I waited for you, Sejanus." You confessed, your voice delicately threading through the words you had struggled to find. The vulnerability stemmed from Snow, who had taken great pleasure in exploiting it to your disadvantage. "At this moment, Snow couldn't care less about me, either." You finally expressed your feelings toward the situation. The emotions resurfaced not long ago, with Snow killing Mayfair and Sejanus being thrown under the bus. The plans were twisted, part of Snow's undoubtedly sadistic scheme, leading him to believe that his closest friend was now dead.

Sejanus’s features darkened at the mention of a friend he once trusted. “Does he know anything of your whereabouts?” He asked, a little serious this time, as you shook your head a confident ‘no’. “I made sure that Tigris would only use the “She is okay” or “Living in the Capitol safely.” He has no idea about your current status. You have no idea how scare I am, what if she has to accidently slip away our little secret. Little do we know he could become aware of it anytime soon.” You tried to make sure not to sound frightened yourself when in reality you were completely aware of what Snow was capable of and please what he favors in the moment. If only you had the audacity the object his actions but if you had done such things– who knew if you’d remain alive at the very least. 

"Hush..." Sejanus's voice softened as he realized the tremble in your fingers, a manifestation of your grief. It wasn't just the fear of the plan's potential failure that shook you, but also the realization that, had things gone differently, Sejanus might not be by your side at this very moment. His hand gently caressed the back of your head as he allowed you to bury yourself in the comfort of his chest, absorbing the familiar scent you had longed for. "Snow acted recklessly for our benefit. If we maintain our resolve, he won't come close to us, let alone lay a finger on you. I promise." He reassured. Little did both of you know, Snow was already privy to your whereabouts. It was only a matter of time before he discerned his cousin's peculiar behavior while inquiring about your well-being, signaling an impending discovery. This time, however, Sejanus might not be in the equation. 

However, in the current moment, the present took precedence. Being in Sejanus's company was all you desired, and he shared the sentiment. As you reluctantly broke away from the embrace, you noticed a piece of paper threatening to slip through Sejanus's uniform pants. Your curiosity piqued, and you furrowed your brows, prompting you to reach for it. Yet, Sejanus, with a swift reflex, intercepted your hand, his eyes pleading for you to refrain from picking it up. "Don't—" He uttered firmly, his gaze unwaveringly fixed on yours, his grip tightening as a silent plea to respect his request. It became evident that whatever the object was, it held significant meaning for Sejanus. "Quite amusing, isn't it?" He remarked with a touch of sarcasm as he retrieved the crumpled item from his pocket.

"And I used to believe that this moment would mark the beginning of a special friendship." His hands seemed almost compelled to crumple the already battered piece of paper, which once held a photo of Coriolanus and Sejanus together. It was a day etched vividly in your memory, a day when he had also taken a photo with you. Snow had envisioned celebrating the exceptional prowess of two extraordinary peers for the 10th Hunger Games. However, it turned out to be a complete disaster, a spectacle that Sejanus perceived as a grotesque display orchestrated by a man devoid of humane intentions. As you gazed at the photo, you noticed Sejanus's voice cracking on the last sentence. His tears were tainted with bitterness rather than sorrow. How could someone so heartless, someone who only considered his own interests, be the same person you once admired? 

"Hey—" Your fingers gently cradled his face, echoing the comforting gesture he had extended to you just moments ago. It was a consoling touch you had inherited from Sejanus's mother, a gesture he had come to hold dear. His lips formed a strained yet hopeful smile, and he endeavored not to falter in your presence. "Snow manipulated both of us. He was the puppet master... But we won't let him control us any longer." you asserted, striving to convey confidence in your words. However, a lingering suspicion gnawed at you, especially as Snow's persistent quest to discover your exact whereabouts began to cast a shadow over your assurance. 

Honestly, Snow eventually uncovered the location of your exile. However, uncertainty shrouded Sejanus's whereabouts, leaving room for the unsettling possibility that his old friend might still be alive but in a place where Snow could find him with nefarious intentions. Despite Sejanus hanging onto your every word, he found himself unable to restrain the tears he had been trying to hold back. While you continued to cradle his face, he leaned in to touch his forehead to yours, closing the gap until he could feel the tender brush of your lips against his own. In the paradox of the situation, love felt secure within each other's arms, leading both of you to share laughter through tears. Sejanus, in a spontaneous gesture, swiftly tossed a memory he once cherished directly into the fireplace. 

"We'll face this together." He uttered in that moment, fervently desiring that the two of you could navigate through whatever challenges lay ahead, even if it meant making sacrifices to cherish every precious second and moment together. 

“Together.”

[biconickyoshi]

Okay y’all… I was very critical of eps 3 & 4 (especially 4) of NAtLA. Then all of a sudden eps 5 & 6 kinda slapped me in the face with how much better the show suddenly got.

Spoiler-free thoughts first:

Zuko, Iroh, and Aang have cemented themselves as the best parts about this adaptation - which is really funny considering I’m currently writing a longfic AU where Zuko and Iroh discover Aang in the iceberg right after Zuko is banished at age 13 and end up becoming the first members of the Gaang (albeit reluctantly at first lol). Episode 6: “Masks” (the Blue Spirit adaptation) was so good, I’d venture to say that it actually improved and fleshed out some things from the original series.

Episode 5: “Spirited Away”, while not as good as E6, was not as bad as I heard people say it was going to be. I think that the changes they did make didn’t bother me nearly as much as the changes they made in the last episode, and it was actually entertaining.

There were several scenes that made me cry in both of these episodes (moreso in episode 6, which I’ll get into further down in the spoiler section). These are the scenes that I feel like really tapped into the heart of the original show rather than feeling like a soulless remake.

Now for my in-depth thoughts (INCLUDES SPOILERS):

EP 5: “Spirited Away”

- Staring out, I was bummed because I had just rewatched the first two eps of the original animated series lol.

- It was an interesting choice to have all three members of the Gaang get stuck in the Spirit World, but I think it worked.

- Wan Shi Tong just showing up randomly was a bit unnecessary, but I suppose it will be kinda interesting to see him again in S2 since he’s already met the Gaang

- Hei Bai plays a much smaller role in these eps, but I strangely didn’t mind that either?

- Seeing Katara’s last memory with her mom was devastating, especially the fact that she had to witness her death and hide in the igloo with Kya’s charred body :(( she definitely has severe PTSD.

- Even Sokka’s memory made me tear up a bit

- Koh being the villain and a soul-eater or whatever was a bit of an odd choice, but I guess I can see why they did it. I do prefer him just being an asshole who steals ppl’s faces lol

- Appreciated the Fog of Lost Souls reference from the LoK lore

- Aang reuniting with Gyatso made me cry. I know some people didn’t like him being in the Spirit World, but I really liked it. Also, the fact that Gyatso was the first person to tell Aang that it wasn’t his fault the Air Nomads died, and that if he had been there he would have died too? THANK YOU! My poor boy has been berated enough for “abandoning” the world.

- We got some interesting lore about the afterlife for humans from Gyatso and Aang’s convo, which we’ve never gotten in AtLA media before. Idk if it’s just for Air Nomads, but Aang mentions that Gyatso stayed behind instead of “seeking enlightenment”. I know that the end goal in Buddhism is to reincarnate until you eventually achieve nirvana, so I wonder if that’s what they were alluding to (I’m not an expert on religions so pls correct me if I’m wrong)

- Oh yeah, I forgot June is here lmao. As a queer person I loved her (bc beautiful goth woman) but I didn’t like the weird choice to make her hit on Iroh - I guess to contrast the Iroh being creepy towards her thing in the OG series. I wish they would have just had them interact normally tbh, no weird “flirting”

EP 6: “Masks”

- Here we go y’all. The best episode in the show so far and probably the best the show is gonna get this season. I’m still pretty shocked at how good this one was.

- I think the decision to include flashbacks to Zuko’s Agni Kai was a good decision here. It felt like an appropriate episode for them and the flashbacks were very well done.

- In general, Dallas is doing a phenomenal job at portraying a Zuko who is angry and aggressive, yes, but also so very sweet and compassionate at his core. I love when little inklings of his true self shine through.

- Roku was… not what I expected. He was very much more of a lighthearted and jokey person… I didn’t hate it, it was just unexpected lol. I wonder if they did that to contrast him with Kyoshi. Which, speaking of, I’m glad Roku clarified that Aang doesn’t just need to be a merciless warrior (and that he didn’t berate Aang for “abandoning” the world like she did). But I still am annoyed about the mischaracterization of Kyoshi in general.

- RIP Shyu :/

- Thought it was kind of strange how June captures Aang at Roku’s temple lol. Like how did she get on and off the island??

- Zhao continues to feel like a completely different character to me lmao. I think this version is pretty funny, but it’s so weird to see Zhao being portrayed as so goofy and incompetent when he was such an intimidating force and the main villain of Book 1 in the OG series. Just a weird direction they went with his character.

- The Yuyan archers look cool as fuck. 10/10 no notes

- Still not sure how I feel about Azula already being this insecure and jealous of Zuko. I think it makes her feel a bit more realistically like a child, but the whole point of Azula’s character is that she is really good at maintaining this cool and calm persona on the surface, which she uses to scare and manipulate people. I can see her maybe getting to a point later on to where she hardens herself into that though. We’ll see.

- Baby Zuko asking Iroh how he looks and his little smile 😭😭😭😭 I had a physical “aww” reaction to that. THAT’S MY SON (me and Iroh shouting in unison)

- War Room scene was handled very well. No complaints. I like how Ozai tried to test Zuko with battle strategies.

- Blue Spirit break out scene was extremely close to the original, and it was really good. They adapted it almost shot for shot with all the important parts.

- Here’s probably my favorite part of the episode: Zuko and Aang’s talk inside the abandoned house after they escape from Pohuai!!!!!! Gahhhh I could gush about this scene all day. I love how they expanded it to be an actual friendly conversation between Aang and Zuko. Like we get to see Zuko’s true self coming through - the sweet, kind boy we know he is. Zuko and Aang just have such great chemistry as well, wayyy more than Aang has with either Sokka or Katara. Like I adored them bonding over painting and caligraphy!!! I think this is the best acting we’ve seen from Gordon so far, and Dallas did a phenomenal job switching back to that hurt, angry version of himself (of course a trauma response). And the fact that Aang said “sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you” when he blocked Zuko’s firebending attack??? My sweet boy 😭

- The final flashback to the Agni Kai was really well done too. I’d already heard Zuko fights back, which I wasn’t sure I’d like, but I actually didn’t mind it. I really liked that they showed Zuko’s hesitation whenever he did actually have an opening, and that was what angered Ozai the most - Zuko showing compassion, “weakness”. Daniel Dae Kim is of course doing a phenomenal job (no surprises there), and I really liked that Iroh actually attempted to stop Ozai at one point. It also looked like young Azula had tears in her eyes, which I again actually liked because it humanizes her.

- I loved that Aang was still there when Zuko woke up on the boat 😭 he wanted to make sure he was okay!! I full on started crying when we got the “do you think we could have been friends too?” lines from him. Again, Gordon killed it. I love how you can tell that Aang knows Zuko has been hurt and that’s why he acts the way he does. He doesn’t blame him for any of it. 10/10

- the last flashback to Zuko in his bed recovering from the burn… god the tears just kept flowing. I really liked the choice to have Ozai almost give Zuko a chance to like… idk understand why he did what he did, and how compassion is “weak”?? And then Zuko’s response to give people a chance 😭😭😭 as if I couldn’t love him any more!!! And then of course Ozai gets pissed. But seeing baby Zuko just cry in his bed UGH I’m dehydrated at this point

- Of course I can’t finish this review without mentioning the 41st division. What an incredible way to expand upon the source material by making them Zuko’s crew!!! It shows just how much Zuko truly cares about others and it moved me so much (once again to tears).

I don’t have high hopes for the last two episodes, but honestly, if this is what the live action can be, it gives me a bit of hope (at least for future seasons). I really think that Dallas, Gordon, Paul, and Daniel were the stars of this ep and are a big part of what made it so good.

[daughterofthequeen]

Fun fact: the Sarentu is the clan of the first Toruk Makto aka Entu our ancestor that popped up the first time you connect to a Tarsyu eheheheheheh🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭so cooool (for some reason I didn’t figure that out until after I finished the game and I’ve played through two game slots)

Add on: I also just found out that apparently Entu was Omaticayan first(source: screenrant), but he branched off and created the Sarentu most likely after he became Toruk Makto and brought the clans together. And other members of the Omaticayan most likely went with him as the first Sarentus after the battle. And that’s the reason why the Sarentu are diplomats and nomads that refuse to take sides because all the different clans were their friends. And also why all the different clans accepted them so easily into their homes and their teachings due to Entu gaining all the different clans trust after leading them all into battle against what was threatening the Na'vi people at that time. IT’S SO SWEET😭😭😭😭😭idk that’s my theory and it just melts my heart. They need to include this into the movies to explain it more OR make a tv show or something. I would watch it. I NEED TO KNOW MORE.

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 9/3/2024

having a lot of fun with toddler enrichment activities in this household, until we bit through the bag and the foil and the water and hated that experience

listening

fun citypop version of Good Luck Babe! by Amandumb and Sakura Wine, “ganbatte” scans to “good luck babe” SCARY well. this is both off a tiktok my best friend sent me and the spotify recommended weekly

-

reading

quite frankly this makes me nervous and i am backing up my blogs as we speak. i sort of believe them when they say that we won't see a difference on the front end, but this is a HUGE migration. SOMETHING is going to go not perfectly.

William Greenleaf's TIME JUMPER (1980, 224p) and Joe Millard (my beloathed)'s Blood For A Dirty Dollar (1980 European reprint of a 1973 American book, 156p). thank you philip. time jumper is from a thrift store somewhere (possibly from the free book shelf at the umass engineering library) and the cowboy book is from ebay. they lied about the condition and the heavy smoke smell so i ended up getting it for free :) in no world is that a Very Good condition book!!!

time jumper! i do not think the back cover blurb (below) is very accurate.

COMBINED DESTINIES! One Earth of the far future, city dwellers live in a technologically advanced environment, while bands of nomads barbarically hunt and farm the plains. Hidden within the city is Erin, a crazed scientist, who is constructing a timejumper. On the plains is a nomad boy who quests after the city's secrets. Unknown to both, an evil force works to keep them apart, for it knows that if they ever meet, a new Earth destiny would be inevitable!

i looooove a bubble city. i love long lingering shots of technology and city-scapes and city politics. i would not call the nomads barbarians, bc they are a trading society who set up crop irrigation in their seasonal fields and have a giant traveling library with card catalogue. i would also not call Erin crazed or hidden, bc he is the richest man in the city. reclusive, yes. single-minded, yes. pretty sane though. he is a little person and i think the book handled this fairly deftly for 1980? most of his obstacles are physical and not societal. finally, the evil force is not working to keep them apart bc it doesn't even know about the outside kid. they mostly just want to stop anyone from leaving.

now that we know the back blurb is lies, what's the deal with this book? mostly wrestling with how automation leads to a loss of purpose and flattening of culture, breaking cycles, cyclical natures of histories thereof, and repeating old sins. however, one of the more frustrating endings ive ever read with the very last paragraph containing the suicide of a minor character. we simply didn't fucking need that last paragraph.

i found the dialogue a little bland but book overall quite evocative. it felt like a sixties scifi show constructed from castoff theater sets. it felt like this screenshot from rollerball. a lot of shapes. a lot of giant gardens. a lot of flattened textures.

i also liveblogged the cowboy book here. we've previosuly looked at the one with the balloon and the jailbreak but this is the one with the mad englishman and the imported castle and the missing scientists. i love a description of Legally Not Lee van Cleef Because We Don't Have A Royalty Agreement

-

watching

X-Men: First Class (2011, dir. Vaughn) was way more fun than i was expecting??? it's fun to watch these with my bestie's husband who is a fairly intense x-men fan and Will pause the movie for several minutes to explain why a specific character's death was fucking bullshit or answer one of my stupid costuming questions

-

playing

the new mesoamerican fire-aligned nation of Natlan is out in genshin impact! VERY beautiful region even though i think it is a crime, to me personally, to show me a village of observation balloons and then tell me i can't actually go there for six weeks until the next patch.

this is a little bit more of a frustrating experience bc my tolerance for the least little thing going wrong is at record lows. once you hit 100% on a map region it feels more like a true 100% ing the area, which is a little scary bc this usually means you have anywhere from 10-20% more Stuff to do and find and collect. one quest is straight up bugged for me (very unusual) and i cannot get a specific mechanic (the yunkasaur, the little green pokemon lookin motherfucker above, flame spitting) to fire with any sort of accuracy. why have a sight and a center pip if you CANNOT aim it.

some parts of the map look a little more seussical than others.

to whoever made sure this observation balloon lined up with the window when you entered this waypoint building, i see you. thank you.

-

making

fallow week.

[eponastory]

Alright let's break this silly argument down a bit shall we?

First off, yes, everyone in the Gaang has trauma. We know this, and we don't disregard that. We know that Sokka and Katara have trauma. We know Aang has guilt over what happens with the Air Nomads when he ran away. We know Toph has baggage because her parents kept her confined because of her disability. That's all been established.

Comparing trauma does not work in anyone's favor because it's different from person to person and the way that it's treated. Hell, there are FOUR types of PTSD and not all of them have to do with existential circumstances. Some of these types have nothing to do with being in a situation that causes panic.

But it's how we deal with our trauma that sets us on the path to healing.

In Katara's case, she had some pretty severe Survivors Guilt. Not necessarily PTSD, but it could be argued that she does have that. It changed her life irrevocably and that is something she had to deal with. She does get to deal with it in TSR but this leads to conflict between her and the group because there is this perception of her that isn't really her.

Sokka has to rise above his issues with being a non-bender and feeling left out. I also feel like he hides a lot behind his humor to deflect how he really feels about things. This is what happens when you have anxiety about meeting expectations. He has expectations he has to fulfill, and it never goes right. He's afraid of disappointing people he cares about and doesn't want to let them down. He isn't a failure, but when he does actually do something amazing, there is Imposter Syndrome. We don't see it much, but we do in NAtLA.

I'm not going to talk about Aang. I refuse.

Toph has been sheltered her whole life because she is blind. She is at home with herself, but she doesn't like anyone to do anything for her. She eventually learns that it's okay to have help when she needs it and that it's okay to have friends. (Not comparing trauma here, but she has the minor character arch out of all of them)

Zuko is... a lot to unpack. At the beginning, we know next to nothing about him except that he is the Crown Prince of the Fire Nation, and he's hunting the Avatar to reclaim his 'honor'. He's hot-headed, but we never actually see him hurting anyone. He threatens, but he doesn't want to hurt people. That's the first sign that things aren't all they seem with Sifu Hotman. Throughout book one we get to know him a little better and see that he is Banished from home because of a 'misunderstanding' and he was also brutally abused by his own father. In the Netflix Adaptation it's more nuanced at how Ozai is playing his children against each other for his own benefit. It sucks but it's also good writing (some of the best writing is done with the characters of the Fire Nation) but anyway, we get an understanding of where Zuko's trauma comes from.

He has been emotionally abused by his narcissistic sociopath of a father because Zuko didn't have that 'spark' in his eyes at birth (not the entire reason but I'll get to that in a bit). Azula was the Prodigy, so Ozai put all his focus on to her. Then, his mother literally killed Azulon to save Zuko's life, but he doesn't find out until later. All of that plus the Agni Kai against his father is why he is so invested in finding the Avatar. Ozai seemingly took everything away from Zuko, but Zuko still loves his father and his people.

So why is he chasing the Avatar? Because he wants to go back to everything he knows. It's not just about getting back something that was never really taken away, it was all about getting back everything Ozai took from him.

Zuko never lost his honor, but he had everything else stripped from him and was humiliated for it.

He eventually grows through this and begins to heal himself with confronting Ozai on the Day of Black Sun. That was when he said 'fuck this shit I'm doing this my way' and that royally pisses Ozai off.

So if you don't like that our argument has better standing than yours, I suggest you go take some creative writing classes and learn about character development.

[buckets-and-trees]

Which CE!babe (general or story specific) do you think would most enjoy your tradition of curling up together by the tree and enjoying the quiet holiday ambiance?

There are a few I think would love being able to soak up the holidays with you!

@biteofcherry sent me an ask last year about Christmas lights that inspired Make Her Glow for IYM!Andy. It plays so much into this idea of Husband and Wife that he has.

DEVOUR BUCKY!!! They were fine and fun before, but he loves the holidays now that he has you. There's a bit of holiday fun that I wrote last year for their first holidays together, but I might have a quick little something up my sleeve for their second Christmas. If I finish it in time.

And Nomad Steve? That man deserves the world for the holidays! 🥺

Exiled Nomad Steve should come to your place and visit. He thinks about it quite often during December, but he doesn't. You two shared two incredible days for his birthday, and he stole another weekend with you in September, and really it should never have gone beyond the first tryst. But he hopes you have a good holiday month. A good girl like you deserves it. And you don't need him selfishly knocking on your door.

The other man who would absolutely adore the holidays with you would be neighbor Bucky from Sweet and Slashy Summer Saturdays! Saturday night movies became your thing, and December has been particularly fun trying to get through all the holiday films you can. The Saturday before Christmas, he also decided to give you an early Christmas present - a key to his place.

And the sugar version of Welcome Home, Pumpkin Lloyd is obsessed with giving you the perfect holiday in all your pregnant glory! He's putting pressure on the contractors he has working to remodel the rooms next to the master suite of your home into a resplendent nursery for Little Pumpkin. 🥹

[dukeofdelirium]

I really don’t understand when people say stuff like Zuko supported Katara the most, like, he supported her 4 times. Aang was consistently supportive of Katara from the beginning, like the only times he arguably didn’t was when he didn’t want Katara to kill a guy, or when Katara first mention her mother’s death to him (and even then she was trying to tell him the Air Nomads might be gone).

People also say stuff like Zuko and Katara were equals, but it’s not like Aang (or the others) weren’t equals, Katara never looks down on Aang, rather the opposite, she values his opinion and has a lot of respect and admiration for him and vice versa. Honestly my main issue with Zutara is that, while they have a really strong and believable friendship and romance between the two would just be so forced and out of nowhere, objectively speaking there’s barely any build up. I can genuinely believe Aang and Katara develop romantic feelings for each other because we see they have a strong friendship and a strong bond.

It seems to me a good chunk of the fandom either confuses fanon with canon or hyper focuses on Aang’s faults (many of which aren’t even faults) and hyper focuses on Zuko’s redemption and good qualities while ignoring his faults as shown here: https://www.tumblr.com/araeph/153886578765/zutarians-act-like-kataras-romance-with-aang-is?source=share

The people who say this stuff are zutara shippers lol. Idc what they say. Most of them haven’t even watched ATLA in over a decade, and when they did watch the show, they only paid attention to the episodes with Zuko and Katara. And even then, they ignored any scene without them in it, considering they forget context for like… everything.

People love to project fanon onto canon with ATLA. They act like Zuko and Katara have this extremely deep bond that only they fulfill in the narrative but the canonical truth is that Katara and Zuko aren’t even really friends by ATLA’s end. They’re like… acquaintances, who know next to nothing about one another and never seem to care to want to know, either. People play up their relationship for dramatic reasons because they find that juicy or whatever but Zuko is not Katara’s best friend by the end of ATLA. Aang is lol. I mean seriously, do you really think Katara would ask to hang out and spend quality time with Zuko in mundane settings? Or that he would ever do the same? No. They formed an alliance and became friendly acquaintances for the sake of ending a war. Katara accompanied Zuko to the FN not to shower him with love but to defeat his sister. The second the war was over, Katara was nowhere to be seen around Zuko except in group settings, and the second she got a chance to be alone with Aang, she took it and didn’t think twice.

Also the whole mention of Aang not commenting on Katara’s mom being dead in episode 3 is such a dumb argument from zutara shippers. The point of that conversation isn’t for Aang to shower Katara in affection and condolences. She’s just telling him the reality of the war he’s slept through. Of course his immediate reaction to hearing someone she loves died is to deny the possibility that his loved ones are dead. That was WHY she brought up her mother. She didn’t say this to get some kind of condolence from Aang, she said it to let him know the reality of war. Aang was in denial about the genocide of his people and desperate for that not to be the case. Completely understandable reaction, btw, to the idea of your entire race and culture being exterminated. And it’s not like Aang didn’t listen to her or care about what she had to say or how she felt; her relating her mother’s loss to his loss over Gyatso literally pulls him out of the avatar state.

[15-lizards]

need more Dothraki headcannons. Just anything about them. I’m so into them. Imagine if they bearded sheep and had milk and yogurt and wool.

Expanding on Dothraki culture is quickly becoming my favorite pastime

I looooove yurts yurts are my best friend in the whole wide world. Spacious enough to be comfortable in during the long periods of stagnation, but easy to pack up and move when needed. Animal skins keep the interior cool or warm depending on the season, and rugs and wall hangings give the place extra insulation and color. Also houses, especially in nomadic, being a center of community and companionship is soooo great to me and a way to expand on Dothraki culture. They aren’t constantly aggressive and hostile to everyone they have friends they have family they love others they are human!!! Their homes are places of comfort where they share drink and food and raise their children and go back to their families to visit!! And the home is also a place for women to dominate when they are in a patriarchal culture. Grandmothers bounce toddlers on their lap while they weave and pass down stories. Girls close the tent flaps and treat their younger sisters who are going through the woes of their first blood. Women exchange secrets and have their own world apart from the men, it is their space. The home is so important!!

We don’t hear much ab Dothraki children, but in every culture, children are important and are loved! I hate when stories make children out to be some sort of nuisance for the surrounding adults and are always treated like unloved annoyances who aren’t useful enough for anything yet. In the Mongolian culture which the Dothraki are inspired by, children are seen as the most vulnerable population and are protected fiercely, being given non names to confuse spirits and receiving blessings before leaving the home at night to protect them from harm. Mothers work hard on their winter clothing so they won’t get sick. Uncles and elder brothers will teach them how to ride horses and shoot their arrows and swing their Arakhs. Their fathers cheer them on when they play their games and race their horses. They have to work and learn responsibility earlier than most people, but they’re still allowed the space to be children, and they are still loved for what they are. And that love doesn’t go away the family unit is always important in every single culture ever!!!

[kaladinsspear]

Some rambling about the Singers and Fused:

I just started Rhythm of War in my stormlight reread and I’m at the part where Kaladin fights Leshwi for the first time in the narrative. Attention is drawn to the fact that the Fused will pair off with the Windrunners and fight to the death in honorable single combat. I’m really interested to see where Brandon is going with this for the rest of the series.

To me, this feels like a setup for something.

First, one of the character development arcs that Brandon seems to like is the idea that fighting is not glorious, even if you decide that your cause is worth fighting for (Vin, Vivenna, and Hrathen go through iterations of this arc, and Wax seems to have had this realization sometime in the roughs and Nomad explicitly verbalizes it).

Second, as many people have pointed out, Kaladin might see honor in the actions of the Fused, but the humans are the aggressors in every way. I’m thinking specifically of this post by @to-shards-you-say because yeah. Why are the Fused so obsessed with their idea of honor? What makes their view of honor ‘right’? Jasna has circled around this topic and so has Taravangian. If the Fused were truly goal driven, they could have crushed human resistance in the beginning by ganging up on the radiants. They seem to be more concerned with their methods than their goal, and it comes across as undervaluing the lives of the Singers.

Maybe I have too much faith in Brandon, but that seems like a bit of a stretch for someone who loves the message that fighting isn’t glorious. What is this obsession with honor that the Fused have if not an insistence that fighting be glorious? It’s like Brandon is playing with the tropes around propaganda and the glory of war. He goes through such lengths to personize all parties that I find it hard to believe that he would really showcase such simplistic black and white understanding on the ethics of violence.

However, it is VERY in character for Kaladin - and other Vorin influenced characters especially- to have this idea that killing is ‘fair’ as long as you follow all the right rules. That’s straight up military propaganda, especially from a USAmerican perspective. ‘War is a game that can be won and there is moral superiority in playing fair’ ‘We know we are the good guys because we play war by The Rules that we wrote’ and I would really like to know if that is a worldview on Brandon’s part or the Rosharins. I hope it’s an intentional setup for a shift in the Rosharins worldview and a little more nuance on the ethics of violence. That does seem like the kind of thing Brandon would enjoy.

(Just to be explicit, I don’t believe that ethics go out the window in violence. I would say the ethics of violence don’t hinge on being ‘fair’ as much as they hinge on causing the minimum amount of harm possible. How you decide what justifies causing harm is another conversation entirely.)

I also want to know if the splintering of Honor has anything to do with it. If I’m remembering correctly, Honor was consumed by his shard as Odium killed him and he became increasingly rigid and started viewing things in black and white. If Odium was the one who killed Honor, and Honor was the original god of the Singers, what would the Fused be like under the influence of Odium? Or with the corrupted influence of Honor. Could it be that Odium influenced their madness in that direction?