#here we go! into chapter 1

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Hey now, Let her cook!

[isjasz]

Part 2- At the gate

🥀

(Yep this is the end for the comics because JESUS CHRIST. GAJHWJHDJA. I will probably maybe make more doodles for the au tho but nothing this structured like this again o7 it's been fun!!)

Designs | Part 1 | Part 2 (End)

[pkmn-redirect]

Chapter 2 - Page 21

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Heads-up that I'll be across the country visiting family over the next week! There won't be a proper update for the 22nd- but there will be something in the feed all the same!

[rowanisawriter]

exit wounds

hades / thanzag / post divorce AU / ch1 of 3

Years and years after Zagreus’s successful escape to the surface, an untimely and unexpected death brings him right back down to the underworld, and shatters Thanatos’s fragile truce with himself.

.

Thanatos’s anger ripples through his body, like a pebble tossed into a pond. “That’s the thing about you. You’re always leaving.”

The sound of Zagreus’s knuckles cracking as he clenches his fists is conspicuous in the hush quiet of the fountain room. “You know why I have to leave.”

“No, I don’t.” Thanatos jumps to his feet. A restlessness fills him suddenly, a need to pace. He stays still, standing before Zagreus, but his hands twitch for want of movement, another strange influence, another foreign need. Everything is different around Zagreus, always. “I don’t know why you need to leave. You will always come back here, you’re tied to this place and tied to the rest of us even though you don’t want to be. And still you put me through this every time. I feel all your deaths. It’s like a knife in my chest.”

He realizes he’s raising his voice and snaps his mouth shut with an audible click. The room feels smaller suddenly. He wants to leave but Zagreus’s eyes on him seem to pin him down.

“You do know why I’m leaving,” Zagreus says, his voice low and even. For once, he’s the calm one and Thanatos is hanging onto his careful composure by a thin and fraying thread. “My father is an Olympian. So was my mother. Whatever it is that makes the underworld your home, that Chthonic ichor inside you, I don’t have any of that.”

“That’s not it,” Thanatos says. “Not all of it, at least. You’re right that your Olympian blood is propelling you forward. That same pride, that same desire they have for more. You always want more. More than the underworld.” His mouth curves around the words, “more than me,” but he swallows it back, chokes it down.

[evienyx]

Fractures: Sundered, Chapter One: Returned

'With the arrival of Princess Azula, Toph Beifong, and Master Piandao to the Fire Nation, Fire Lord Zuko, barely staying afloat as is, finds himself thrown directly into the very thing he's been avoiding: the fallout of the Hundred-Year War.

As faces old and new emerge from the shadows, some friend and other foe, Zuko struggles to help both his nation and the world while grappling with exactly what it means to do what is right.'

- - - - -

And so it begins.

[tojiscrack]

15.2k words 😩

now what would you do if i told you we’re currently at 20.06k words? 🤭

[pttucker]

I activated the [Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint] right away. And then, bore witness to a message I had never seen before. [Applicable individual is a 'Character' from a worldview you are not familiar with.] …A 'Character' from a worldview I wasn't familiar with? Almost at the same time, bright light suddenly shone out from the naked man's eyes. [Someone is activating a power not registered with the system!] Circular disks were vigorously spinning above his retinas. [An existence of another dimension is spying on your true nature!] [Warning! This power cannot be fully blocked by 'The Fourth Wall'!]

What???

Now we have whole entire different universes showing up? With their own absolute beings???

.

.

Wait.

Could it be...?

I gotta go check something.

.

.

I freaking knew it!

Oh man, first Dokja asks if there are unseen readers out there reading his story and now he literally encounters the main character of another novel from our world.

We are really straining the Fourth Wall here.

...The Fourth Wall that didn't answer about the readers and didn't answer when Dokja asked if they'd run into Jae-Hwan again...

[hella1975]

wondering why old ladies aren’t smiling at me around town as much this morning then remember im wearing hoops and a puffer jacket and generally look like a bitchy year 9 girl who’s about to punch someone

[loosingmoreletters]

Title: foolproof plans and the idiots executing them

Summary: Yu Ziyuan arranges for Wei Ying to be married off to Gusu Lan, promising an obedient wife for the second Jade of Lan.

As far as Wei Wuxian and his siblings are concerned, there are several issues with that promise, starting with the fact that despite appearance, Wei Wuxian is very much not a girl.

The solution? Ditch the nice dress on the way to Gusu, invent a fake twin, and behave so outrageously nobody could want to marry a girl with any blood relation to him.

Or, the one where Wei Wuxian pretends to be his own twin brother to break his engagement and Lan Wangji has an ongoing sexuality crisis about falling in love with his betrothed’s brother.

1.

“This is never going to work,” Jiang Cheng said with barely hidden panic.

“Not with that attitude, it won’t,” Wei Wuxian retorted and stepped out from behind the privacy screen half-dressed. “Jiang Cheng, grab the bandages—”

“What are you doing!?” he thundered and turned around, face flushed red.

Wei Wuxian grinned. His brother truly had the best reactions.

“But A-Cheng!” Wei Wuxian cried. “I can’t wrap the bindings around my chest on my own! And we’ll be rooming for the foreseeable future anyway, so you best get rid of any propriety now before all of Cloud Recesses hears you scream. Besides, you’ll never be closer to a maiden’s bosom—“

Snarling, Jiang Cheng took the bindings and marched over to his brother. “What fucking maiden are you talking about?”

It was true, Wei Wuxian was many things, but a maiden wasn’t one of them. This enraged Madam Yu especially as she had staged the last eight years on Wei Wuxian being a good little girl and doing as she was told.

When he’d first been brought to Lotus Pier, Wei Wuxian had been awfully timid and fearful, which Madam Yu had hoped he would remain. Unfortunately, Wei Wuxian was everything but, and the more comfortable he became, the more did his true personality shine through: that of a clever and mischievous boy. Truly, he hadn’t grasped the difference that people prescribed to girls and boys at a young age, only ever chafed at the expectations laid at his feet.

Which brought them to their current predicament. Madam Yu had striven to be rid of Wei Wuxian since he’d been brought to her doorstep, and a shy and timid girl had been an easy image to sell to Gusu Lan; thus, a marriage had been arranged. Perhaps Madam Yu had done it so quickly to prevent Jiang Fengmian from getting ideas, but regardless, Wei Wuxian was supposed to be meeting his betrothed for the first time.

And that just would not do.

2.

Jiang Yanli was the nicest person at Lotus Pier and nobody wanted to displease her.

“Alright, does everyone know their lines?” she asked with a smile.

“Yes!” the assembled disciples replied while Wei Wuxian, her A-Xian, threw his hands behind his head, grinning, and A-Cheng looked pained but determined.

One arranged marriage was enough for their family. Jiang Yanli knew she could make Koi Tower her home if she put enough work into it, but the Cloud Recesses, with its many rules and the false expectations her mother had fed the Lan, could never bring her brother happiness.

A-Xian’s old robes were packed away in his bags now while his own, all newly purchased and hidden beneath her own on departure from Lotus Pier, were now where they belonged. He didn’t have as many as he ought to as commissioning them had been expensive, and the seamstress needed to be sworn to secrecy as she padded the robes in the right places to hide A-Xian’s silhouette.

Her brother looked good in them, wearing dark violet, the red he was never without, and some black to further craft their illusion. Well, perhaps it wasn’t entirely an illusion, A-Xian was who he was regardless of his body, but Yanli could tell it pleased him that the cut of his robes matched that of the male disciples.

Let’s get this show on the road, then.

Jiang Yanli plastered a pleasant smile on her face and went to greet the guards.

3.

“Nobody told me he was pretty,” Wei Wuxian whispered to Jiang Cheng when Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji came to welcome them.

It took all of Jiang Cheng’s strength to not whack his brother.

“No, seriously, I think he’s prettier than I am when Madam Yu has Shijie doll me up.”

There were so many things that could be going wrong with their plan, the reputation of their sect might suffer from it too, but what was Jiang Cheng to do? Their mother wanted this and their father never listened properly when they or Wei Wuxian tried to explain the problem with the matter at hand. And perhaps scheming like this was unfilial, but didn’t Jiang Cheng also have a duty to his older siblings?

“We thank Gusu Lan for your hospitality, but we must also apologize for—”

That, Wei Wuxian took as his cue as he skipped away from Jiang Cheng’s side and walked right up to the two brothers, a mischievous smile on his face.

Oh, this was going to end in disaster.

Jiang Cheng would have to watch Gusu Lan be so insulted they’d decimate his brother, and then he’d have to go fight the Twin Jades on his brother’s behalf because nobody fucked with his people and mother would beat him with Zidian because she wouldn’t get it.

“My sister’s absence!” Wei Wuxian interrupted loudly. “Ah, it’s so nice to meet my future brother-in-law. Tell me, which one of you is it? No! Let me guess!”

He made a show of thinking about it before pointing at Lan Wangji, who seemed to be entirely displeased with the interaction. If this was all it took to get to the younger Jade of Lan, they’d have that engagement canceled by the end of the second week.

“It’s you! With that thick face!” Wei Wuxian finally exclaimed and pointed at Lan Wangji. “Don’t you know that you won’t please a girl with a face like that? My poor sister!”

Dramatically, he turned to the other Jiang disciples, who were all attempting to stifle their laughter. At least they hadn’t arrived with all the pomp of the Jin. As far as good first impressions went, they could still do worse.

“Sister?” Lan Xichen asked carefully, clearly making an inquiry all while attempting to sound polite about it. Jiang Cheng almost felt a little bad for lying to his face like that.

“Yes! My dear meimei, Wei Ying, your brother’s betrothed,” Wei Wuxian said. “She couldn’t make it to the lectures after all, so I decided to go instead to get a sense of her betrothed. I shall tell her that he cannot even smile at his future brother-in-law, treats me like a stranger! Ah, she will be so distraught.”

Wei Wuxian was getting entirely too invested in his performance, and Jiang Cheng couldn’t even be mad about it.

“I apologize,” Lan Xichen said. “I wasn’t aware Wei-guniang had a brother, or that you’d come to these lectures.”

Shaking his head like a disappointed elder, Wei Wuxian sighed. “It must be because of the name! See, when Sect Leader Jiang found us, my sister and I both listened to ‘A-Ying’, for it was what we recalled our parents calling us! So you certainly must have heard of me, but just assumed the Wei Ying in the stories is my sister! But fear not, this one is called Wuxian by courtesy. But as we are family soon—” At that, Wei Wuxian grinned absolutely shamelessly at Lan Wangji. “—Lan-er-gege may call me Wei Ying too.”

Lan Wangji’s face expressed that he would absolutely not be doing that.

4.

“We have a missive explaining it,” Jiang Yanli said kindly, handing a letter she’d forged to Lan Xichen.

She only felt a little guilty for faking her father’s signature, but if he hadn’t wanted her to know how to do it, he wouldn’t have let her watch him work that often.

5.

On the morning Lan Wangji was meant to meet his betrothed, he realized that he had no idea at all what he was supposed to feel about his engagement. He’d never met Wei Ying before, nor heard exceptionally much about her. Asking Uncle proved less than fruitful as his agreement to the marriage was mostly politically motivated. Even if not Sect Leader Jiang’s daughter by blood, Wei Ying was of sufficient standing through his benevolence that they gained a beneficial alliance. Marrying her in the future was Lan Wangji’s duty, so he’d see it through.

They could be friends, at least, he hoped. And if not, he’d do what he could to give her freedom to travel without losing her reputation.

He would not be his father.

6.

By the time night had fallen and Lan Wangji was in his bed, he was assured the engagement would be a disaster if Wei Ying was anything like her alcohol-smuggling, curfew-ignoring brother!

But, as her twin, they might be alike in looks.

Lan Wangji did not want to linger on that thought.

7.

After day two of their sort-of-but-not-really charade, Wei Wuxian was beyond convinced that their mutual agreement not to marry him off to Gusu Lan was the right choice. Constrained by more rules than ever before, Wei Wuxian thought he would lose his mind. Sure, Lotus Pier had its unwritten rules too, most of them boiling down to staying on Madam Yu’s not-bad side because she simply didn’t have a good one, but they didn’t hold a candle to all the ridiculousness the Lan came up with!

Unfortunately, as Lan Qiren’s steadily growing more irritated voice pointed out, Wei Wuxian hadn’t created a step-by-step plan for falling out of favor that did not summon Jiang Fengmian to the Cloud Recesses.

Well, all Wei Wuxian could do about Lan Qiren was quiet down a little in class. He wanted to break his engagement, not bring diplomatic turmoil over the sect, though a broken engagement was pretty much the same.

No, Wei Wuxian only had to annoy Lan Wangji enough and as his uncle’s prized nephew and student, surely once he wanted the engagement ended, Wei Wuxian would be free.

8.

Jiang Cheng didn’t see how incessantly spending time with Lan Wangji would keep one of the brightest of their generation from figuring out their trick, but he did know how to keep others quiet. It wasn’t too much of a problem as his mother had always kept Wei Wuxian far away from other sects, fearing he’d cause an incident.

The only one who knew better was stupid, pretentious Jin Zixuan, who kept giving Wei Wuxian side glances, wondering just why he was seated here with them instead of with the girls as their sister.

And Jin Zixuan, much like the bright gold of his uniform, had no sense whatsoever for staying the fuck quiet.

While Wei Wuxian happily skipped ahead in the line, pestering Lan Wangji about the nighthunt, Jiang Cheng stayed close to Jin Zixuan.

“Zewu-jun,” Jin Zixuan addressed Lan Xichen after yet another disbelieving look at Wei Wuxian. “If I may ask, why is Wei Ying attending our class?”

No, he may not ask, especially someone from a different sect.

Lan Xichen, who definitely seemed to have sucked all the pleasant emotions out of his mother’s womb, leaving Lan Wangji with nothing, only smiled. “I assume to ensure my brother will treat his sister right.”

Jin Zixuan frowned. “But Wei Ying doesn’t have—”

Without any remorse, Jiang Cheng stepped on Jin Zixuan’s foot. To his credit, the Peacock didn’t even flinch.

“—doesn’t have a brother who seems well behaved enough to attest these matters.”

The safe was good enough that Jiang Cheng didn’t step on his foot again despite his terrible and insulting excuse.

9.

Lan Wangji was an absolute riot to tease and make fun of. Wei Wuxian hadn’t had that much entertainment since he helped the newest disciples hide a whole batch of kittens in his room. They’d been discovered in the end, but the cooks had been glad for the cats running around the compound, getting rid of the mice by then.

But it was nice to spend time with his peers too without having to watch his words all the time, making crude jokes or just being around somebody without having anyone ring for a chaperone of some kind.

Okay, Jiang Cheng still hovered, but that was because his brother cared.

And it wasn’t like Jiang Cheng wasn’t making himself useful.

“Elbow up!” Wei Wuxian cheered as Jiang Cheng fixed Wen Ning’s posture. Wei Wuxian was going to do it himself, but Jiang Cheng had swiftly taken over that duty, leaving Wei Wuxian to sit with Nie Huaisang.

Truly, he’d miss this once he returned to Lotus Pier.

Or maybe he could leave for a while, go night hunting on his own, continue living up to his curtesy name before he’d eventually have to turn it in again, leave it only in his siblings’ mouth.

10.

Perhaps, as it occurred to Jiang Cheng in the morning, half-hangover, they should have taken Wei Wuxian aside to practice living as a man. Wei Wuxian was bold enough that his shameless behavior passed as that of an arrogant youth, but Wei Wuxian hadn’t ever really had the ability to live as Jiang Cheng. Although his brother was more advanced than him in cultivation, his lessons were cut short to learn the manners of a young lady alongside their sister. And while Lotus Pier didn’t go as far as the Cloud Recesses to separate the complexes, Wei Wuxian had never been surrounded just by men.

Maybe, Jiang Cheng thought as they stumbled to punishment, his brother wouldn’t have smuggled alcohol into the dorms and gotten roaring drunk if they’d sneaked away before the lectures and allowed him to indulge.

Or, Jiang Cheng thought as the first strike landed, Wei Wuxian would’ve acted just the same.

11.

Before this year’s lecture had started, Lan Wangji was doing fine. Now his entire life had been interrupted by Wei Wuxian. The other boy was so keen on bonding with him and distinguishing his character that he hardly left Lan Wangji alone, dragging him into his foolish endeavors.

To his horror, the more time Lan Wangji spent with Wei Wuxian, the more did his thoughts go to him even when Lan Wangji was alone. Everything Lan Wangji wanted to know about Wei Wuxian was entirely inappropriate, not the thoughts someone ought to have about their betrothed’s brother.

“Give me your ribbon!” Wei Wuxian hissed, arms wrapped tight around himself. “It’ll stop the attacks.”

A better fiancé would hesitate, at least for another moment, but Lan Wangji was a coward who couldn’t even admit the truth to himself.

He wrapped his ribbon around Wei Wuxian’s wrist, the weight of the action entirely unknown to Wei Wuxian. Engaged as he was, Lan Wangji couldn’t even honor it privately. He’d have to tell Wei Ying and tell her that even if her brother praised Lan Wangji’s ‘impeccable’ behavior, he was far from honorable.

Everything else would be improper.

12.

After they’d dealt with the Yin Iron.

He’d write his letter after they dealt with that.

His ancestor’s message and warning seemed a little direr than Lan Wangji’s own doomed heart.

13.

For the first time in years, Jiang Yanli did not spend most of her time with Wei Wuxian. They’d shared a room as little children, Wei Wuxian staying with her for a smidge longer than he should have. After, her parents probably thought that her influence could tame her brother and turn him into a proper young lady.

She’d probably failed on that account in their eyes, but seeing him now, with twice as much energy, laughing louder than anyone else, she couldn’t consider it a failure in her eyes.

“Shijie—” Wei Wuxian looked outraged.

Jiang Yanli knew her brother well, he wouldn’t let Jin Zixuan’s words be, and they couldn’t afford him causing a scene now for multiple reasons.

Her mother wasn’t a role model she wanted to emulate most of the time, but this once, she straightened her back and held her head just as high.

“Go with A-Cheng, A-Xian,” she told her brother. “I think Jin-gongzi and I have to talk.”

14.

She didn’t cry until she was back in her room, escorted by Mianmian, who deserved so much better than having to handle her. In the Jiang quarters, her disciples and friends surrounded her. There, Jiang Yanli allowed herself to cry.

Jin Zixuan didn’t love her, didn’t want her, and what right did she have to protest when staging to break her brother’s engagement?

How terrible that Wei Wuxian had found a friend in a stranger he’d been terrified to meet when she hadn’t gained even that.

15.

There was a stupid comment on Jiang Cheng’s tongue when Wei Wuxian dressed in his old clothes and tossed another set to him, but under cover of night, hurrying to their sister’s room in disguise wasn’t that bad of a plan.

And if seeing them both dressed up made her laugh, then that was really only a bonus.

16.

After a whole year at the Cloud Recesses, Wei Wuxian was, admittedly, not really closer to breaking his engagement. But maybe if he now fessed up to Lan Wangji that he was, indeed, his fiancée in disguise, perhaps he’d be so disgusted at Wei Wuxian’s shameless behavior that he’d call for its end.

So really, Wei Wuxian couldn’t consider the year a waste when he’d made a few friends more and learned how to wrap his bandages himself because, as funny as Jiang Cheng’s face had been the first couple of times, his brother took forever.

He’d get around to ending his engagement some time in the future. Right now, everyone was too busy eyeing the movement of the Wen anyway to think of marriage.

Nodding to himself, Wei Wuxian grabbed a brush and left his brother a quick note.

If he wasted any more time, he wouldn’t be able to catch up to Lan Wangji before it got dark. Honestly, what was he thinking going away by himself as if Lan Yi hadn’t given the task to the both of them?

Wei Wuxian grabbed his hastily packed supplies and vanished from the Cloud Recesses.

Jiang Cheng would think of an excuse to present his parents.

Wei Wuxian had the utmost faith in him.

[ssreeder]

Chapters: 15/? Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), Aang/Katara (Avatar), others to be tagged later - Relationship Characters: Sokka (Avatar), Zuko (Avatar), Aang (Avatar), Katara (Avatar), Toph Beifong, Jet (Avatar), Suki (Avatar), Kyoshi Warriors (Avatar), Iroh (Avatar), Jee (Avatar), Hakoda (Avatar), Bato (Avatar), A bunch of OCs, Long Feng, Joo Dee (Avatar), Azula (Avatar), Mai (Avatar), Ty Lee (Avatar), Ozai (Avatar), General Fong (Avatar) Additional Tags: Violence, Blood and Injury, War, Minor Character Death, Rape/Non-con Elements, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Attempted Sexual Assault, Major Character Injury, Amputation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, possible major character death, themes similar to the first two books, Sexism, Racism (like has already been written in first two books), dark themes, Human Trafficking, Slavery, Just a lot of dark war-like themes, there will be a battle, Torture, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Injury Recovery, Healing, Underage Sex, Underage Drinking, Animal Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Warnings each chapter, Hopefully some healing for Zuko finally, no promises, but that’s the goal, Reunions, hopefully a happy ending, Sokka gets some healing too, Non-Consensual Drug Use Series: Part 3 of Leaving It All Behind Summary:

-This is the last book of the series LIAB, please go read the other two books before this, or you will be very confused-

Zuko has been taken by the Earth Kingdom army to who-knows-where, and Sokka is determined to get him back.

But he can’t do it alone.

With Suki and the Kyoshi Warriors by his side, Sokka is headed to Ba Sing Se to find Katara and Aang so they can go rescue his fire bender.

Things aren’t as easy as he had hoped. Corruption, lies, and unknown horrors await them inside the city’s walls. None of this is helping Sokka’s mental well-being.

Hakoda and his men face a problem of their own as Azula approaches with the intentions of making it rain fire.

Sokka and Zuko will both find themselves having to reintegrate back into a life they thought they left behind, with people they hardly remember. It isn’t easy for anyone, especially when they don’t recognize the person standing in front of them.

[babysizedfics]

1k words of my little!grian & cg!scar wip

...

“Scarrr,” the all-too-common whine resounded around the room.

“Daddy’s busy,” Scar replied absentmindedly, distracted for that very reason.

He had invited Grian to keep him company while he waited in the upper levels of his Jellie farm, letting it do its magic. After a good hour of regular conversation and kidding around, it was time to enter the lower chamber to collect the fluffy grey treasures that awarded their patience. Scar was currently chasing around these treasures in his wheelchair, shoving raw fish in their faces until they loved him.

“Yeah, well Grian’s bored!” Grian groaned, dropping his forehead to a block of glass to drive his point home. The ginger cat that resided in the chamber behind the glass startled and darted around its confined space. (They had agreed to let the spare cats roam the server, just as soon as Scar had had the chance to tame his Jellies.) “And stop calling yourself that, s’weird…” Grian grumbled, his face smushed against the glass.

Tempting a Jellie towards him with a raw, slippery salmon, Scar hummed a faux noise of agreement and/or interest. Whatever it was that Grian had said, surely that covered what he wanted in response, Scar theorised.

“Scarrr!” An even louder whine, followed by a muted thump that Scar could only assume was a pathetic attempt at a foot stomp.

Theory disproved. Scar relented, dropping the fish on the floor and letting the wild Jellie snatch it and scurry back to the corner of the room. He had already acquired fourteen Jellies after all. Some people would say that was enough.

“Alright, alright, I know a cry for attention when I see one,” Scar teased, spinning his chair around with a big smile at his fluffy haired companion. “What’s got you all wound up, little man?”

“Gee, I dunno, maybe watching you chase fifteen versions of the same cat around a room for, like, half an hour?” Grian’s voice was all sarcasm, but not too much frustration. In a blur of red, Grian swung his arm up and a bunched up rag came flying at Scar.

He shrieked, arms flying up to shield his face. The rag (which was soaked in what Scar assumed, and hoped, was water) landed by complete chance in his hands with a wet slap.

“For your gross fish hands,” Grian explained, clocking Scar’s confused disgust. He dragged his feet on the floor over to where Scar was parked. Before Scar could argue that his hands weren’t that fishy, Grian had grabbed one of his wrists and lightly tugged it up to exclaim, “Oh my god, dude, your fingers are literally wrinkled!”

Scar’s own hand was shoved in his face to confirm that, yes, his fingertips were wrinkled from the amount of raw fish he had been handling. He sent a guilty (yet charming, he was sure) smile over at his best friend.

“Y’know what, Grian? I just had the best idea.”

The other’s eyebrows raised and his lips quirked into a light smile. “Oh yeah, Scar?” Grian played along, placing (not dropping) Scar’s hand back to his armrest. His fingers stayed resting on Scar’s wrist. “And what’s that?”

“Well, I’ve decided that we have been here long enough and should leave,” Scar explained casually, then grabbed Grian’s hand tight and whispered desperately, “Now.”

Grian broke into a burst of giggles. “That’s what I’ve been saying! And get your gross hands off me!” he cried, shaking Scar’s greasy grip off and leading the way to the door.

Scar hummed to himself in thought as he wiped his hand off on the rag, his chair also humming beneath him mechanically as he drove behind Grian. “No, I don’t think you’ve said that at all today.”

They broke out into the daylight, and Scar admittedly was glad to see the bright blue sky and fields of green stretching into the horizon.

“All I’ve heard you say were ‘Scar’, and ‘Scarrr’, and ‘Scarrr’—” Scar counted on his fingers, doing his very best Grian Whine, before the originator of said whine batted his hand back down.

“Okay, okay,” Grian groaned, though still with a smile.

“Can we please do something fun now?”

“Sure, fire away,” Scar indicated to Grian with the rag before chucking it to his other hand to finish cleaning off. After fussing for a good moment with a rascally scale that wanted to stay put under his fingernail, Scar looked up, only just realising Grian hadn’t said anything in reply. “Bud?”

Grian was looking a little lost, bashfully shrugging his shoulders. “Uh, I kind of hoped you could think of something?” he asked hopefully, voice raising to a pitch that meant he was trying to smooth things over.

“You didn’t even have anything in mind when you were begging to leave the Jellie farm?” Scar asked, playing shocked and affronted but really just mildly put out and amused.

“I— I just always think your ideas are, uh, more fun,” Grian lied, voice raising in a half-question by the end of the sentence. The smile on his face was a combination of smug, playful, and timid. “C’mon you always think of new games when I’m, y’know—” Grian’s shy code for regressed “—surely you can think of something on the spot.” The challenge was clear in Grian’s tone. Then it was made clearer by Grian’s finger poking repetitively into Scar’s cheek. “No pressure or anything. No pressure, Scar. No pressure.” 

Argument on his tongue, Scar was ready to insist Grian think of something for them to do, he was the one who begged for it after all… But then he had an idea. Oh, and this was a fine idea indeed. One he had been waiting for. One that was so very welcome.

You see, after being thoroughly swindled out of a hefty amount of diamonds by Bdubs, Scar had broken the cycle of pranking that was so common in their would and had instead gone quiet. Suspiciously quiet, he knew it seemed from the outside. But inside, he had been sitting back and waiting patiently for just the right scheme to come upon him. One that would annoy the heck out of Bdubs, be enough to get him grinding those perfect pearly whites to mere stubs, but one that didn’t cost too much in damages—to either his base or his ego.

That is, Scar’s base or ego of course; Bdubs’ pride and property, on the other hand, were about to take a major hit. Nothing too permanent, nothing out of bounds, nothing Bdubs wouldn’t recover from, eventually. Something teetering right on the edge. The perfect place for a prank to be.

Scar felt his face twist into a huge grin (and imagined himself as the Grinch) as he caught Grian’s persistent finger in a gentle pinch. (Was he even rhyming like the Grinch now?)

“Someone’s getting kinda testy, huh?” he asked with a very specific, practised voice—softer, bouncier, more teasing than his usual tone.

It was rewarded with an instant dusting of pink across Grian’s cheeks. Step one of the plan was officially in action.

...

muuuuch more to come soon :3 pls feel free to reblog/comment/yell at me (kindly) as u see fit - and follow to catch more updates and hear some cute headcanons!

[kareofbears]

just one time (just one time) ch.1

“I heard you out and I’m still unsure why you’re even doing this.” Nanami pushes his shades up the bridge of his nose, peering down at the planner in his hand. “Or rather, why you insist on having me involved.”

A training camp for wayward children, Gojo had called it, gesticulating widely with his long arms, white hair bouncing with passion.

---

Or, Gojo and Nanami take it upon themselves to keep an eye on the first years during summer vacation without realizing that the first years are the ones keeping an eye on them.

read on ao3 or below the cut

GS: whatcha up to this summer? 

NK: Hello, Gojo-san. Be more specific. 

GS: hi, nanamiiiii :>

GS: what's your availability this summer? 

NK: Which month? 

GS: all of it

NK: That's hard to say. Summer is a two-month time frame. 

GS: great, so i'm hearing you're free. 

NK: I didn't say that.

GS: meet me tomorrow at noon, i'll send you the address in a bit. and bring a calendar, i don't have one. 

NK: You don’t have a calendar? 

NK: What's this about?

NK: Hello?

---

"Halfway to June until halfway through July," Gojo bites the cap of the red sharpie in his hand and tugs, voice muffled. "That's it."

Nanami puts his hand on the calendar with one hand, holding his tea mug in another. "I haven't agreed to anything. And don't draw on it, that's my personal calendar."

"I'm drawing on it because it's your personal calendar. Because this is your personal life that I'm involving." Gojo leans back into the booth, shit-eating grin plastered on his face as he reaches for his own caramel smoothie. In an attempt to butter him up, it seems, Gojo had treated him to a high-end coffee shop, quiet and well-lit with natural sunlight. The interior decoration is artful yet unobtrusive, the ambiance pleasant, and Nanami isn't sure if Gojo had known about this place beforehand or if he found it specifically for this situation.

"And I'm a big fan of how you carry a physical book around with you." Gojo picks up the leather-bound pocket calendar with mild interest, turning it this way and that in what only feels a little condescending. “How quaint, it’s like I’m in a historical movie.”

“If you’re done mocking me—“ Nanami plucks the book from Gojo’s fingers, who grumbles. “I’ll be taking my leave now. Some of us actually have work to do.”

“Come on, I’m just playing.” Even with the blindfold, he can almost make out the eye roll. “I’ll be good, just hear me out.”

“I heard you out and I’m still unsure why you’re even doing this.” Nanami pushes his shades up the bridge of his nose, peering down at the planner in his hand. “Or rather, why you insist on having me involved.”

A training camp for wayward children, Gojo had called it, gesticulating widely with his long arms, white hair bouncing with passion.

It’s tradition in Jujutsu Tech. The second and third years are to attend the Kyoto sister school during the summer, while the first years will be sent back home. It’s a rare moment of kindness from the higher ups of Jujutsu schooling to allow the students a chance for some down time, effectively masking the fact that this will probably be the the last significant period of ‘vacationing’ they'll have before they inevitably get locked into the world of sorcery and missions until the day they die.

What's unheard of, however, is the teacher forcing the students to stay behind.

"Not forcing," Gojo corrects. "Generously offering. It's an opportunity to further their education with the best of the best." He points to himself as he speaks, neither conceited nor humble. Just factual. "You want them to get lazy at home, eating watermelon on the tatami for a month?"

"That's their right to do so. They've worked hard."

"And they have," he repeats, nodding. "And they'll keep working hard, because that's just who they are. The only difference is they'll have the guidance to direct them upwards." When he sees Nanami's expression, impassive and unbudging, Gojo raises a brow. "You really think I'm gonna lock them up all month? Please. It's me we're talking about. They'll have time to frolic if they want, have a little summer side story or whatever kids do these days."

"Alright." There's something else that Gojo's hiding from him, but he doesn't push. He's not their teacher. "And what does this have to do with me?

"Did you know you're Yuji's emergency contact?" Gojo tells him. When Nanami doesn’t react, he continues. “You're not surprised."

"No."

"So you know how Yuji sees you?"

Nanami looks out the window, thumb grazing the side of his watch as he takes in the bustling city of Tokyo on the other side of the glass. "I get the gist of it," he relents. "But he has you, too."

"Of course," Gojo agrees easily. He ignores the window entirely, focused on Nanami. "But I'm not you."

Eyes flickering at Gojo, "You'd admit it so easily?

"For this, yes." he slurps up his drink noisily, erasing any sense of maturity about him. "You know how much he'd enjoy it if you were camp counsellor, Nanami."

It's frustrating, how well thought out this plan was. Camp counsellor. A juvenile but fitting description. He's not bound to these kids for longer than a summer. He's not offering lifelong advice that will change the trajectory of their life. On top of that, the barest hint of curiosity blooms in his chest. Gojo Satoru, lifelong menace and strongest sorcerer, as a teacher. To this day, Nanami still hasn't seen it in action. WIth this, he can stay in the shadows while he observes quietly.

Besides, how many times has Itadori begged for him to visit Jujutsu Tech?

"A month," Gojo repeats, tone soft. "That's all I'm asking for."

Nanami scrutinizes him for a long moment before sliding the planner across the table. "A month," he says firmly.

Gojo beams.

---

Yuji's mouth hasn't closed in the past two minutes.

Kugisaki reaches over her desk and pushes his jaw upwards. "You're overreacting."

"It's—it's—" Kugisaki continues pushing her hand up his jaw until Itadori finally pushes her hand off him. "It's Nanamin! Here!" He gestures widely around himself, like they're somewhere incomprehensible instead of the first year classroom. He bends sideways, contorting his spine until his pink hair brushes against Fushiguro's shoulder. "Am I hallucinating?"

Fushiguro doesn't even look up from his novel. "Are you actually here, Nanami-san?"

"I believe so," Nanami replies from where he's standing by the doorway, cleaning his shades with a cloth. He wasn't quite sure what to wear to the first day of whatever this was, so he opted for his usual suit, sans the tie. Keep it casual! Gojo had texted him last night, and this is the most he can muster with that advice.

The feeling isn’t exactly melancholy, standing in the first-year classroom once more, but reminiscent. He doesn’t miss his younger days, but his chest still contorts in a strange way he doesn’t understand. As if he were trying to fit himself into a room that he’d lived in all his life, only to find that his limbs had far outgrown it. When he glances back at Gojo, for a moment he sees circular sunglasses and floppy hair instead of the blindfold. He blinks, and suddenly he’s 27 years old and he’s not quite sure how that happened.

Itadori can't seem to wipe the grin from his face, visibly trembling with excitement. "Why didn't you tell me, Nanamin?"

Gojo’s head pops behind Nanami’s shoulder. “Because he wanted to surprise you, Yuji-kun! And are you surprised?”

“Yes!”

“Are you surprised!”

“Yes, sensei!”

Gojo rushes forward and double high fives Itadori, the slap loud enough to leave their ears ringing. “That’s right!”

Fushiguro rubs his temples with one hand. “Hello, Nanami-san.”

“Fushiguro-kun, Kugisaki-chan,” he nods politely at both of them. “I trust you’ve both been well?”

“Good. It’s been warm,” he answers, putting his book down. It pleases Nanami, how polite this boy is, especially given his irritating upbringing. Despite being part of the jujutsu world from a young age, the two of them have hardly shared more than a few words with each other.

“Psst,” Kugisaki leans forward and Nanami mirrors her. “Did you like the cafe?”

His lips twitch into a smile. “It was lovely, thank you.”

“Now that we have the pleasantries out of the way,” Gojo calls, walking to the front and picking up a piece of chalk, hands red from repeated slapping. “First of all—happy summer! It’s the season of adolescence, hope, and ripe fruits on hot days. Even though this month is typically when we send you home, I thought, how boring! How cruel, to seperate my students from their beloved teacher. Like lost sheep away from their shepherd. Just terrible.”

Snatching a chalk from the mantle, he turns to the board, hand moving fast and grand, spelling out in huge, capital letters: SUMMER. With a nod to himself, he turns back to the trio, and even Nanami’s not quite sure what to do with that information. “I know you’re all getting excited,” he says as Kugisaki yawns. “It’s not going to be all fun and games the whole time. I’ll be training you during this time, pushing you to be your strongest selves. Or something along those lines. And to help me do that—"

Gojo clasps a hand on Nanami's shoulder. "Will be this very proper, well-financed, semi-handsome although slightly dull man who you all know and love." Turning to him, "Care to introduce yourself?"

He represses the urge to sigh. "My name is Nanami Kento," he starts, and Yuji whoops behind a covered hand. "And I will be aiding you all in your training for the next month. I look forward to working with you," he bows slightly.

Gojo makes a face. "Alright, now that you're all done falling asleep to that exhilarating introduction—" he makes his way to the windowsill, sitting on the ledge. His ever-present grin rests on his lips, but there's a sharpness there that makes Nanami pause. "Let's do something a little more interesting.”

There's a shift in the room.

Fushiguro, once-bleary eyed, raises his head at Gojo's tone, hands deceivingly resting on the tabletop, but Nanami knows better, can see the slight twitch of his fingertips from here. Eyes sliding over the other students, Kugisaki straightened up, eyes narrowed ever slightly, torso twisting so she slightly angled away from her desk. The only one who didn't change was Itadori, who gave his teacher a questioning look.

Raising both his hands, Gojo flashes his teeth. "On my mark," he says, and it was then that Nanami started rolling up his sleeves. "I want the three of you to attack our newest member here with everything you have.”

Silence rings in the room, shrill and intrusive, until the sound of cracking knuckles sound out. "Finally," Itadori breathes, eyes bright and wild.

“Oh,” Gojo adds. “And no cursed energy,” he gives Nanami a sidelong glance. “From either party.”

Clap.

This, too, was Jujutsu Tech tradition.

With a deafening crack, Itadori’s desk splinters as he uses it to throw himself at Nanami, fist raised and expression eager. As if on cue, Fushiguro and Kugisaki darts from the sides, Kugisaki agilely hopping on the windowsill to get above Nanami while Fushiguro slides in for the tackle. Good. They use their numbers effectively.

Weaving under Itadori’s initial throw, Nanami uses his own momentum to deftly jump over Fushiguro, grabbing him the collar before twisting, hard, to launch him directly up at Kugisaki. Her eyes widen as she crashes into Fushiguro, and Nanami doesn’t even need to look behind him before he sidesteps, hearing more than seeing the whoosh of Itadori’s foot missing his temple by inches.

“Megumi,” Gojo sighs from the back. “You’re making this harder for Nobara than it has to be.”

A hiss is all the reply that Gojo gets.

Nanami decides to stay on the defense, favoring dodging and parrying as he submerges himself into the mentality of the attack—because that’s what this is. It doesn’t feel like a brawl the way lower-level sorcerers would get in. This is targeted. Strategized. The three of them work well with each other, the subtle shift in expressions and squeaks on the floorboards the only indication of them communicating with one another. The three of them haven’t known each other for long, but they fight like they’ve done it together for years.

Like a slow build-up of an engine, Fushiguro seems to have shaken off his own hesitation, relying heavily on proper hand-to-hand combat. It doesn’t surprise Nanami how clean cut some of the moves are, almost textbook in the perfection and predictability of his movements. Is it because of the superiority of his technique? Nanami looks over at Gojo for a split-second, only to find an amused expression there. Forearms raised to block a roundhouse kick he sees from a mile away, Fushiguro clicks his tongue, rolling back in time for Kugisaki to charge in.

She fights dirtier, completely unconventional in her movements, undoubtedly to make up for her smaller frame. Sliding and slipping, she goes for anything she can reach. The back of his knees, blind spots, movements quick enough to distract. While it’s clear that there’s room for improvement—Kugisaki keeps reaching for the hammer and nails she isn’t allowed to use, a clear tells on what she falls back on—she’s just crafty enough that he stays on his toes.

Gojo cups his hands around his mouth. “Dig deeper, Kugisaki,” he calls out.”You’re treating our guest like he’s a curse, but he’s seeing right through you. You don’t have your nails. Get over it.”

“This normally works!” she replies hotly.

“He’s not very normal though, is he?”

The hair on Nanami’s nape rises and it’s only pure instinct that has him pivoting right, both arms raised against an explosive fist hurtling directly at him. Bones rattling, teeth grit, he absorbs its impact, boots skirting on the floor boards. A hit from Itadori is just as devastating as it looks.

A fair assumption for why Nanami’s able to handle the other two so easily was due to the lack of cursed energy. If this were a real fight, he wouldn’t be so callous with his movements in a skirmish like this. But a closed-combat, all-out sprint of a fight has Itadori’s name all over it.

But it also has Nanami’s.

Immediately it shifts into something of a boxing match, punches and hooks thrown, movements blurred yet pinpoint accurate, and for some odd reason, Nanami finds his lip twitching upwards.

“Wah, Nanamin’s smiling!” Itadori grins between jabs, breathing just a little short. “Told you we should’ve done this sooner—” A particularly sharp hook goes into Itadori’s side, pulling a pained groan out of him. “Focus, yeah, I hear it loud and clear.”

“Yuji,” Gojo drawls. “You lose your chatting privileges if you get hit like that again.”

At least he looks sheepish as he ducks out of Nanami’s attempted throw. “Yes, sensei.”

Just as Fushiguro and Kugisaki were about to throw themselves into the fray again, Gojo claps once more. “Time’s up! Pencils down.”

There’s a chorus of grumbling, but Nanami only nods, rolling his sleeves neatly back down. These faux-fights never last very long. They’re designed to see the chemistry and skill level of not only the students, but the newcomer teacher as well.

“But we were just getting into it,” Kugisaki pouts.

“Five more minutes?” Itadori pleads, big eyes at Gojo. “Please?”

Only Fushiguro doesn’t complain, only neatly straightening his fallen chair before sitting in it, looking almost bored again. How he can go from a brawl to being completely disinterested so quickly is almost impressive. “Don’t you always train with Nanami-san?”

Itadori whirls on Fushiguro, arms already thrown up in exasperation, and Nanami has to hold back a sigh. This topic has long been worn and tired. “No, never! He refuses to train with me.”

All eyes slide back to Nanami. “There is nothing I need to teach you in terms of combat,” he says, unashamed.

“You beat the shit out of us.”

“He absolutely did,” Gojo agrees. He makes his way back to the front, kicking stray chunks of wood as he walks. “A few things before I let you all go.”

Turning in a circle, he points at Itadori with a flourish. “Yuji, minus five points for breaking the desk.”

He blanches. “There’s points?”

“There is now. Kugisaki,” his fingers morph into little guns. “Plus ten points. Good energy out there. I appreciate the creativity, but I’m gonna need you to commit a bit better next time. If you don’t, I’m sticking you with Maki again.”

“Wow, what a punishment,” Itadori whispers to Fushiguro. “I’m sure she’ll just hate that.”

“Yuji. Minus 20 for being a little shit.” A pause. “Plus 20, because that was pretty funny.”

“Thanks!”

“You’re still in the negatives,” Fushiguro points out mildly, which has Itadori frantically doing math with both hands.

“And Megumi,” Gojo turns to him with a stern look. “You held back today. But you get plus 500 points for being the cutest!”

When he receives an eye roll in return, Gojo only coos before turning to Nanami. “Well, camp counsellor-san. Anything to add?”

Nanami turns the question around his head. There’s a lot he could say. These kids are good, very good, but every one of them has something they need to improve on. “I do not,” he says instead. It comes off a bit shorter than he meant for it to, and he softens his voice. “You all did well.”

Even without looking, he feels the burn of Gojo’s gaze in the side of his head. He refuses to meet his eyes.

“Okay,” Gojo shrugs, turning to the students. “Dismissed, then. Go have some ice cream. Nanami’s treat.”

Kugisaki and Itadori practically run into the wall in their haste, barely shoving the door aside before sprinting down the hall, calling for Nanami to hurry up, which he does, albeit much slower, quietly closing the door behind him.

Gojo brushes his hair back with his hand. With a flick of his hand, the lock to the window clips to the side, letting fresh air come into the warm room. “Don’t be coy. I know you like ice cream, too.”

“What are you planning?" Megumi asks, ignoring him.

"You always assume the worst in me," Gojo yawns, not bothering to cover his mouth.

Megumi doesn't grace him with an answer, only keeps staring. To some people they might be unnerved by his unflinching expression, but Gojo only smiles fondly. He walks to the door, ruffling Megumi's hair on the way out. "Nothing this time, Megumi. Let's just try and have a good summer."

[acourtofquestions]

JUST FINISHED HEIR OF FIRE

Onto QUEEN OF SHADOWS!!!

[takiki16]

A Fine Chain

UPDATE: Chapter 16/?

Fandom: Jupiter Ascending

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Beta: @gallifreyburning

Relationships: Jupiter Jones/Caine Wise

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Light Dom/sub, Power Imbalance, Royalty, Slavery, Collars, Leashes, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Don’t copy to another site, Dark

Summary: Caine Wise, disgraced ex-Skyjacker and convicted criminal, is suddenly inducted into the service of the enigmatic Queen Nea-Seraphi, mysterious new Recurrence and puzzle to the Entitled social circle. While figuring out the boundaries of his new station, worrying about his old commander, and nursing old wounds from his court martial, Caine finds himself slowly being drawn into the confidence of his royal employer. What could Her Majesty possibly want with a defective splice?

Spoilers for Chapter 16 without context:

[evienyx]

Fractures, Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Beginning

'So it goes.'

- - - - -

Here you are.

[30403099]

the wolf of the fleet