#i will have imagine dragons stuck in my head forever now but she makes it all worth it

[homosekularnost]

(also just to be clear we are stanning we are supporting and we are waiting for p2)

[blueraineshadows]

Brothers - Chapter One

Garreth Weasley 🔺️F!MC 🔺️Oscar Weasley

I have rewritten this first chapter. Thank you for the love on the original post, but I thought I could do better and started again.

Oscar Weasley is an OC created by @eternalremorse and fleshed out by members of the Garreth's Groupies Discord ❤️

Garreth and his older brother, Oscar, both have a soft spot for MC, and so a love rivalry emerges during MC's 6th year at Hogwarts.

Chapter One - September 1st

The scenery whizzed past the windows as the Hogwarts Express clattered along the track on its way to Scotland. MC leaned her head against the glass, her eyes growing drowsy with the steady clickity-clack of the train after a lack of sleep last night. Coming back to Hogwarts as a 6th year filled her with a deep sense of longing and excitement. Her debut as a 5th year had been explosive, to say the least. The whole year had been a whirlwind of events that had left her with the occasional nightmare, but she also had discovered a deep thirst for magical knowledge and had made some wonderful new friends too.

Compared to this time last year, there were no nerves, no fear of the unknown, and definitely no dragon attacks as the train made its trip through rolling English countryside. She had not tossed and turned all night racked with nerves but had been restless and excited to return to the one place where she could truly be herself. Her fingers caught the edge of her black robe, trimmed in yellow for Hufflepuff house, and a smile tugged at her lips as she looked forward to stepping foot inside her common room.

"Sickle for your thoughts," Poppy said.

MC's smile widened as she lifted her head from the cool glass of the train window and turned to her friend. Poppy's hair had grown a little longer, and there were definitely more freckles across her cheeks from all the time spent outside over summer helping her grandmother with their beasts. MC had been fortunate enough to spend a week with Poppy and her grandmother during the summer, making memories she would cherish forever.

"I'm looking forward to this term," MC said. "I'm ready, more than ready, in fact, to get stuck in. Hopefully, there will be less drama this year, and I can concentrate on my studies."

Poppy smiled and opened her box of sweet treats that she had purchased from the trolley. "I am looking forward to this year as well," she said. A mischievous glint appeared in her eyes. "Although, I am not ruling out a complete absence of drama. Speaking of, do you have any gossip to share? I heard that Leanora Everleigh's parents were looking for a husband for her already."

MC wrinkled her nose. "Poor Leanora. Can she not choose one for herself?"

Poppy shrugged. "Perhaps, although it isn't uncommon to arrange a marriage." She popped a sweet into her mouth and leaned back, her face thoughtful. "Now, who would I fancy being arranged into marriage with," she mused. "Isaac Cooper? Hmm, too much of a show off. Andrew Larson is cute and very smart. Definitely not that creep from Slytherin who torments the animals. Imagine the horror!"

MC gave her an amused glance and shook her head. "There's plenty of time for all that later on," MC said. "My roommate at the orphanage got engaged this summer. She is so happy, and I am pleased for her, but I intend on finishing my education before I get swamped in by all that nonsense."

Poppy gave her a nudge and scoffed at her quick dismissal. "Don't tell me you would be immune to the charms of a handsome boy, MC," she said. She quirked her eyebrow playfully. "You never did fill me in on your little trip to Feldcroft. How is Sebastian, by the way?"

MC rolled her eyes. "My trip was lovely, and it was quite proper. I can assure you," MC insisted. She shifted in her seat, adjusting her robes. "Sebastian is one of my best friends, and anyway, Ominis was there too. He spent the whole summer with Sebastian as he usually does."

Poppy hummed in mock disapproval. "Goodness me, spending time with not one but two Slytherin boys over summer break. Quite the scandal! Imagine if Leanora did that. Her poor mother would be mortified! No handsome bachelors for Miss Everleigh after that!"

MC fought back her giggle. "I've missed you, Poppy."

Poppy grinned and linked her hand with MC's. "Perhaps this year will be less about fighting dark wizards and more about winning someone's heart."

MC shook her head and leant back against the glass window, the countryside growing wilder and more mountainous as they travelled further north. Poppy may tease her about her closeness with Sebastian, but he truly was just a friend. MC thought about all this talk of marriage and winning someone's heart and couldn't imagine herself in that kind of situation.

She had no parents to arrange a marriage for her, not that she would want that for herself. She was strong in her belief of finding her own way in matters of the heart. She was grateful for the open-minded community that the Wizarding World offered in that respect. They still arranged marriages, but there was definitely more freedom of choice when it came to being yourself and what path you may wish to take. No stuffy finishing schools for witches, that was for sure.

Her thoughts drifted to the exchange of owls she had shared with Garreth Weasley over the summer. She had honestly not expected him to write at all when she had slipped him her address on the last day of 5th year, but he had. MC had devoured every letter describing his home on the farm, his family, and his outlandish ideas for various potions. With no family of her own, MC had absorbed every detail and tried to imagine what it was like to live in a home with siblings that were your blood, that had a shared history with you, rather than random children that passed through her orphanage like ships in the night.

A soft smile returned to her lips as she thought about Garreth. The summer break was a long one, weeks apart from her potions partner, and she wondered if he still looked the same. He had the most adorable smile and fluffy hair, and she had discovered that she was rather fond of boys with freckles.

She had first noticed this attraction when Sebastian had befriended her last year, but her silly crush on him had faded as their friendship had strengthened, and then her eyes had been drawn to Weasley. Taking the bold move to switch seats in potions to allow her the chance to get to know him better had been absolutely worth it in her opinion. He had no idea about her crush on him. There was no way she would admit to that. He might laugh or avoid her all together, and she didn't think she could handle that.

Poppy's suggestion that this year could be the year to find a boyfriend replayed in her thoughts. MC tried to imagine what that might be like and felt her cheeks warm. She had never kissed a boy before, had only ever touched one for the first time last year, and that didn't really count. Sebastian tended to her battle wounds, and she tended his, but that didn't really come into the category of romance. A hug in friendship was not the same as reaching out to touch someone with intent for more, and thoughts such as this made her shiver. It made warmth gather in intimate places that made her ache and tingle for something mysterious and new.

It was all rather overwhelming, and this is why concentrating on her studies was something far more sensible and within her comfort zone. There was no need for any other distractions.

....*....

Hogsmeade Station was overrun with students as they piled off the Hogwarts Express, greeting friends and juggling their belongings as they headed towards the waiting carriages to take them along to the school. Garreth stepped from the train, yawning and rubbing his rumbling stomach as his older brother, Oscar, appeared beside him. Oscar grinned and ruffled his hair, an annoying habit that irritated Garreth to the point of gritting his teeth.

"Stop that," he hissed.

Oscar chuckled. "I can't help it, your hair is just so fluffy and begs to be ruffled like a big shaggy dog."

"You're not funny," Garreth groused. He adjusted his bag on his shoulder and began to wind his way through the hustle of students, Oscar close behind him.

"Where's Hector?" Oscar asked. Garreth thumbed back to where they had just come from, where their younger brother was in the middle of a group of friends. "He told me to get lost so I wouldn't embarrass him in front his mates."

Oscar laughed. "He's got a point."

A group of girls caught sight of them, their cheeks blushing and smiles widening, but Garreth knew it wasn't for him. He threw a glance over his shoulder to see Oscar giving the girls a flirty smile, winking as they walked by. The girls seemed to huddle closer together, whispering and giggling as they gave Oscar furtive glances.

Garreth rolled his eyes and shook his head. "We are not even through the bloody school gates yet and you're chasing skirt."

Oscar wiggled his eyebrows. "No harm in casting the net out, brother. It's my last year here, got to make sure I don't miss out on all the pretty witches before I leave."

Garreth frowned. "There's a name for men like you."

Oscar looked at him. "Charming, handsome, fun...eligible?"

Garreth scoffed. "A cad, and an insufferable flirt, you could even say a man whore, if the cap fits."

Oscar laughed and draped his arm around Garreth's shoulder. "Trust me, brother, make the most of your time here at Hogwarts. You're a 6th year now. The girls are definitely more game for a kiss. Get your nose out of your potion kit and start enjoying the view, and work some of that Weasley charm. I will even show you where the best broom cupboards are for a bit of cheeky snogging if you like."

Garreth could feel his cheeks growing hot at the very idea of taking a girl into a broom closet. He tugged at his collar as one girl in particular came to mind, a girl who had been sending him owls all summer. He had been trying not to be too obvious at seeking MC out amongst the students piling out onto the platform, but he knew she would be there somewhere. It had been bad enough sitting through the long train journey knowing that she was seated within the long row of carriages, the urge to get up and wander along the passageway in the hopes of bumping into her had niggled at him all the way from London.

There would be plenty of time to see MC in class, though. He hoped she would take the seat next to him in Potions again like she had done towards the end of 5th year. His heart pattered away haphazardly at the thought. It made the lesson even more of a favourite to have her beside him. He was fairly certain that MC had the prettiest eyes he had ever come across.

As they neared the enchanted carriages that would take them up to the school, no horses needed here after all when you had magic, Oscar clapped Garreth on the shoulder. "Ah, I can see my own classmates, brother," he said. "We shall catch up on snogging locations another time."

Garreth gave his brother a sour smile. "Great."

Garreth stilled, his expression shifting to one of delight as his gaze landed on his favourite Hufflepuff getting ready to climb up into a carriage with Poppy Sweeting. "MC!" He called.

Her name burst from his lips before he could even think about it. Her head turned, her eyes scanning the students around her to see who had called out. Garreth flushed scarlet at the realisation he had just shouted at her across the pathway. His mother would have slapped the back of his head and demanded to know what he had done with his manners.

Oscar paused in his step. "Well, well, if it isn't our very own Hero of Hogwarts," he said.

MC caught sight of Garreth, and a smile lit her face immediately. She lifted her hand in a wave, and Garreth waved back, his heart soaring. She looked wonderful, her smile wide and happy, those lovely eyes lighting up at the sight of him. All the Owls they had exchanged over summer seemed to hang in the air between them, and he smiled softly back at her.

"A friend of yours, is she?" Oscar asked.

Garreth glanced at Oscar, his mouth tightening as he saw the way he was giving MC a slow look up and down. "Yes, she is," he said firmly.

Oscar raised an eyebrow. "She is rather lovely, isn't she?" He tilted his head curiously. "Although, it seems she may already be spoken for."

Garreth whipped his head back around to see MC taking the hand of Sebastian Sallow as he helped her up into the carriage. MC was smiling up at Sallow now, their chatter and laughter very familiar and intimate. Garreth felt his soaring heart shrink a little. Those two had been rather close all through 5th year, and it looked like not a lot had changed.

"They are always together," Garreth said. "If it's not Crossed Wands, it's in the library, or whispering with each other in corners."

Oscar gave him a look. "You almost sound jealous, Garreth."

Garreth shifted his feet and adjusted his bag again, his cheeks warming. "No," he denied. "Don't be daft."

"It's not daft, brother," Oscar said. He turned his gaze back towards MC, his teeth rolling his lower lip. "It's not daft at all. Now, that is the kind of pretty witch you want to tempt into dark cupboards, brother. I've seen her in Crossed Wands. She is a feisty little thing, and I do like a witch with a bit of fire to her. I might have to make a point of speaking to her next time I'm there."

Oscar gave a playful wink as he patted Garreth on the shoulder. Garreth stared after Oscar as he sauntered off to greet his friends, clenching his teeth together in frustration. The bitter thing about it was that, knowing Oscar, he probably would.

Garreth's shoulders drooped, and he sighed as he headed towards a carriage where Leander Prewett was settling down with a few others from Gryffindor house. Garreth shook hands with Leander, and they nodded to each other. It hadn't been that long since he had seen Leander. They often spent time together over the summer as their parents were friendly with each other. He supposed he could say that they were best friends, they shared a dormitory, and he spent the most time with him compared to anyone else at school.

Garreth listened idly to the chatter in the carriage as it lurched into motion, the wheels creaking a bit as it began its long trip towards Hogwarts. He clutched his bag on his lap, his gaze drifting to the carriage up ahead where MC was sitting with Sebastian. It didn't even make sense that Sallow was here. He must have come down to the station to meet MC from the train because he lived fairly close by. There was no other reason for him to be here that Garreth could think of.

Sallow was a top duellist, a smart Slytherin who kept company with a Gaunt, and there weren't many who were willing to get on the wrong side of him and Ominis. If Sallow truly did have a claim on MC, then that was that as far as Garreth could see.

And then there was his brother, Oscar, who could charm the birds from the trees with his smile, who had girls falling over themselves to just speak with him. Garreth was fairly sure that Oscar had even taken a girl to bed judging by some of the comments he had overheard him making to his friends. How could Garreth ever hope to compete with experience such as that?

With two older siblings and two younger siblings, Garreth was very much the middle child, and he felt invisible, almost inadequate at times. It was one of the reasons he concentrated so hard on his potion brewing. He was not incredibly smart like Nigellus, and he wasn't as charming and handsome as Oscar, who was an impressive Beater on the Gryffindor Quidditch team to add to his attractiveness. Garreth needed to be good at something, and potions were his passion. He was quieter and more sensitive than his other siblings, preferring to sit and write in his diary than go whizzing about on a broomstick like Oscar, or impress people at the Ministry with his brilliant brain like Nigellus.

How was there ever going to be any hope of getting the attention of a brilliant witch like MC, who could bring down a troll single handed, or put a stop to a goblin rebellion right underneath their school. Oscar hadn't called her a hero for nothing. Garreth sighed and pondered over his thoughts as the carriage rolled along, and then his stomach rumbled, and he hoped that there would be apple pie and custard for pudding this evening.

....*....

As usual, the house elves had outdone themselves with the feast. The food spread out along the four house tables was magnificent, and students were tucking in, sampling the various dishes and chatting with their housemates. The new first years had been Sorted, and there was a buzz of anticipation in the air for the start of a new term.

Oscar Weasley speared a roasted potato with his fork and listened as Isaac Cooper chatted about the Quidditch game he had gone to see over the summer. Cooper was on the Gryffindor team, and he was an excellent Chaser, their Captain, and he was a fierce advocate for getting Headmaster Black to bring Quidditch games back to Hogwarts. Together with Imelda Reyes, they had put together a petition and ran a strong campaign last summer to attempt just that. It was unusual for a Gryffindor and a Slytherin to work together for Quidditch, but their passion for the game was unrivalled.

"So, do you think Black will concede this year, Cooper?"

The boy frowned over his dinner. "I bloody hope so. It's just not right, no Quidditch, pfft! It's not Hogwarts without it."

"I couldn't agree more," Oscar said. "Seeing as it's my last year, I would quite like to get back out there. I've missed it!"

"Missed showing off is more like it," Garreth quipped.

Oscar gazed down the table to where his brother was sitting. Garreth's smirk was daring him to quip back and Oscar merely narrowed his eyes. Garreth was trying to get a rise out of him, and he had been all evening since they had got off the train, and Oscar had an inkling why.

Sliding his gaze away from his younger brother, Oscar looked across towards the Hufflepuff table and the rather lovely view afforded to him of MC. She was sitting with a brunette girl, and they were chatting away, MC's hair pulled back into a braid with soft strands framing that very pretty face. Her smile had a way of lighting up her features that caught Oscar's attention. She moved with a charming grace, her slender hands animated but not overly so. He had seen those hands in a duel, quick and deadly, nothing like the gentle, soft way she was speaking to her friend. Oscar realised he would quite like to get to know her a little better. She was fascinating to him.

As they finished up their meals, Oscar's gaze kept drifting back over towards MC, and a few times, she had caught his gaze. Her eyes had danced quickly away, a lovely pink colour flooding her cheeks as she did so. Oscar's curiosity was piqued even more. There was something very soft and innocent about her despite her heroic deeds, and the more he looked, the more intrigued he became.

As he wiped his mouth with a napkin, Professor Black took to the podium and addressed the Great Hall. The hum of conversation dwindled to a stop, and the students turned their gazes towards their Headmaster. Oscar folded his arms, boredom seeping through him as the pompous fool began to speak. Black was one member of the faculty he certainly wouldn't miss when he left.

"Another year, another opportunity to be at our best..." Black droned on.

Oscar yawned and flicked a stray pea across the table towards Garreth. It sadly missed its target and promptly landed into the lap of the girl sitting next to him, another late starter transferred from Africa. She frowned and glanced up, Oscar fixing a look of pure innocence on his face as he pretended to be engrossed in Black's speech.

At her irritated click of the tongue, Oscar fought the urge to smirk and leant his chin on his hand, his elbow on the table top.

"And so, as a consequence of such hard work and dedication from our students, and the threat of the goblin uprising now over thanks to MC, it gives me great pleasure to announce the return of Quidditch matches to the school's extra curricular activities," Black announced.

Oscar's attention was quickly snagged at those words, and he straightened, his lips stretching into a wide smile as he looked across the table towards Isaac Cooper. Cooper gaped and immediately stood, along with many other students, to clap and cheer. The entire Great Hall erupted into sound as excited voices and applause filled the air. Oscar got to his feet, too, a thrill shooting through him at the thought of getting back out onto the pitch and smashing a few Bludgers about. He lifted up his hand towards Copper, and they grasped each other in a victory shake.

"This is going to be the best season yet," Cooper vowed. Oscar nodded in agreement.

He couldn't help but look across towards the Hufflepuff table. MC was on her feet, her little friend hugging her happily as they, too, celebrated the news. Other Hufflepuff students were patting MC on the back and shaking her hand, her face a glorious pink as she accepted their praise rather awkwardly.

Black had said it himself. Thanks to her, the goblins were gone, and now Quidditch was back. Oscar made a mental note to thank her himself, an ideal conversation starter, and he definitely wanted to start something where MC was concerned.

....*....

Poppy had taken her arm and led MC out of the Great Hall after dinner, making their way towards the Hufflepuff common room, other students dirifting off in various directions to do the same. MC leaned against her friend. She was tired after the long journey and a big meal. There was a buzz of excitement in the air with the news about Quidditch returning, and while MC couldn't wait to experience the game for the first time in match form, Professor Black had reminded everyone of her deeds last year and now they were making a fuss.

MC hated to be reminded of it. She was no hero, not really. She had done terrible things to stop that rebellion, and the nightmares still plagued her, her heart still hurt from the loss of Professor Fig. But, the rest of the school did not know the half of it. The only people who truly understood were Poppy, Sebastian, and Natsai. And even then, it was only Sebastian who knew the deepest, darkest secrets of her heart, just as she knew his.

They had made a promise to each other, her and Sebastian, to take those dark secrets to their graves, and she intended to keep it that way. So, when people came up to her and reminded her of being their "Hero of Hogwarts," she smiled and nodded and thanked them for their kind words.

It was exhausting.

"My bed is calling for me, Poppy," she sighed.

"Mine too," Poppy yawned.

The Hufflepuff common room had that warm, inviting ambience that wrapped you up safe and secure. MC savoured the cosy feel as she made her way up to her dormitory, Poppy still at her side. They had beds beside each other, and they chatted in between their yawns as they readied for bed.

"Who is better looking, Isaac Cooper, or Oscar Weasley?" Poppy asked.

MC gave her a look. "Are we talking boys again? Really?"

Poppy gave her a sly smile. "As if you didn't notice the way Oscar Weasley was staring at you during dinner."

MC flushed and turned her back, taking great pains to neatly fold her clothing and stack it in her chest while she waited for her cheeks to cool down. "Nonsense," she muttered.

Her heart thumped a little louder under her ribs as her cheeks burned. She had noticed Oscar staring. Of course she had. It seemed that whenever she glanced across at the Gryffindor table, Oscar's blue eyes were fixed on her. MC brushed her hair back from her hot face and ignored Poppy's giggle.

"Oscar would definitely be in my top five of 'What Ifs'." Poppy climbed into her bed, and MC moved to do the same, pulling back her blankets.

"Your 'What Ifs'?" MC asked. "What does that mean?"

"What if they kissed me?" Poppy said impishly.

MC settled down into her bed and turned to face her friend, adjusting her pillow. "And who else is on this list, dare I ask?"

Poppy shifted to face her, laying close to the edge of her bed so she could whisper across to MC. "Isaac Cooper, obviously. Like Oscar, he has that Quidditch physique that makes my knees tremble."

MC considered Cooper and her mouth twisted. "Isaac is nice, but he doesn't really make my knees feel weak. I thought you said he was too much of a show off anyway."

Poppy gave her a look. "I wouldn't want to marry him, but a kiss wouldn't be the end of the world."

MC chuckled at her friend's brazen talk. "Well, if I had to choose...out of those two, I would choose Oscar Weasley. It's the freckles."

"Ah, so you have a type!" Poppy squeaked.

MC couldn't stop the smile that lifted her lips. "I think I do. Although, I confess, if it came down to it, I can not imagine any boy wanting to kiss me, or even what that would be like."

"I will lend you some of my romance books to read," Poppy said. "They are rather eye-opening, I must say. It made me look at boys differently, that's for sure. Although, I know what you mean about a boy wanting to kiss you. I'm fairly sure that boys like Oscar and Isaac wouldn't want me."

"Dont sell yourself short, Poppy," MC said. "They would be lucky to get a kiss from you."

Poppy's smile was quick, and then she sighed. "I think Oscar would like to kiss you, MC. You are so lucky. Would you kiss him if he asked?"

MC felt her cheeks warming up again. Oscar did have lovely eyes and a delicious sprinkling of freckles over his nose. He was also tall and had the loveliest shade of red hair. She remembered him being at Crossed Wands duels last year, and he certainly seemed charming. He definitely had a way of looking at you that made you very aware of every heartbeat. "I...I guess so."

Poppy gave a little squeal into her pillow, her feet kicking the mattress under the covers. "Oh, MC, the way he was looking at you tonight, I would put him right at the top of your list. I reckon you would have a good chance at getting a kiss from him."

"Along with half of the other girls in years 6 and 7," MC scoffed. "I've heard the rumours about Oscar Weasley."

"Hmm, yes," Poppy mused. "I have heard girls whispering about him, but then, how much of it is actually true?"

"I'm already a subject for gossip, Poppy. I'm not sure if I want to encourage that by letting some boy kiss me."

He wasn't just some boy, though. Oscar was Garreth's older brother. MC thought of Garreth's soft smile at the train station earlier today. He had looked taller, his cheeks hadn't looked so soft, they were leaner, his jaw more defined. If anything, he was starting to look like Oscar. Garreth would absolutely be in her top five of boys to kiss, and it was on the tip of her tongue to admit it.

But, what if Poppy accidently let it slip and Garreth found out? The fear of being mocked, or worse, him avoiding her completely made her heart pound and her palms sweat.

This is why boys were a distraction she couldn't afford. MC sighed and plumped up her pillow. "That's enough boy talk for tonight," she said. "I need to get some sleep."

"Maybe you will dream of Oscar," Poppy chuckled.

MC rolled her eyes. "Goodnight, Pops."

"Goodnight, MC," Poppy whispered back.

As the dormitory slipped into dark quietness, MC lay awake, sleep hovering at the edges of her consciousness. Her thoughts swirled between Garreth's soft smile, his letters over the summer, and the way her pulse had quickened when her eyes had met with a pair of blue ones across the Great Hall, Oscar's eyes.

Two Weasley brothers, both handsome, both tugging at those deep, secret places within her that teased at her curiosity.

MC closed her eyes, pushing those thoughts away, and hoped that her dreams took her somewhere else tonight. Somewhere less distracting.

To be continued...

[treepan0]

August lore dump because why not?

August is actually the most detailed of my ocs, starting off with my own surprise about an unpopular choice in the dragonball fandom. August has multiple different outcomes, mainly because of her complexity as a character. but for the most part her pre-series, classic, Z, super, and introduction lore is consistant. keep in mind she is a mutated Tuffle oc, with life as her main theme and that does affect her lore. under read more for obvious reasons.

~Pre series, introduction & classic

August doesn't remember much of life before the saiyan-tuffle war, as she was only five when it broke out. she and her mom stayed on the run for seven years, before she decided to face things head on, rather than running away. unfortunately during a fight a year later, her life would change forever.

this fight resulted in her mutation, and the first presumption of her death. the second would happen five years later, she was hit by a blast causing her ability to teleport her away, and stay in a dream like state for a long time. due to her ability however, the passage of time was like nothing to her.

I imagine her introduction a bit different then most; during one of Goku's dragon ball searches with Bulma is when they first meet, reasonably August is scared, and Goku is confused. August fearing for her life, attacks out of self defence, and is defeated pretty easily. however out of a desire to fight her again, she was spared leading to her genuine respect for Goku.

her arc in dragon ball would be about starting to move on from the past, and letting go of grudges against those who never deserved her wrath.

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~DBZ lore~

Z is where things interesthing; you know I mentioned she was hit by a blast? well it was a ki blast that went straight through her diaphragm, kick starting the first more interesting detail about her. August despite everything felt horror when learning of Raditz' death, because in a way she knew long ago that could have been her. while it doesn't destroy her relationship with Goku, it does change her views on him significantly.

leading up to Vegeta and Nappa's arrival, she would train as she believes the only way to maintain the life she worked for, is to fight for it. in the end however it didn't matter, as vegeta was strong enough to make her ability unable to protect her. so she's kind of stuck dead, until the end of the Frieza to be revived alongside everyone else.

the time spent between the Frieza and android sagas, is spent a bit more relaxed like everyone else, but she doesn't give up training. she never does really, since it's also one of her coping mechanisms, and Vegeta sure does upset her. Despite that fact, I can still see her baking cookies to help cheer everyone up. (she lets Bulma save some for Vegeta, but they never get eaten and just go stale due to his distrust.)

there isn't much special I could see for the android saga, she's really just another fighter there. In the Cell saga however I can see her body creating a poison for imperfect Cell in its compounds, since her ability is adapting for survival. This reasonably angers Cell, but it's not enough to kill him, just repel him like a mosquito.

in the Buu saga August still doesn't fully get along with Vegeta, but she puts it aside mainly for Trunks and Goten. She barely escapes being absorbed, but still ends up exploding with everyone else. afterwards I can see her baking treats, and sending them to Mr.Satan since it's already something she likes to do, and she now has someone to enjoy the baked goods so they never go to waste.

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~Super~

I'm doing super first since GT has branching timelines.

during battle of gods, I don't see many interactions except for one: remembering August bakes as a hobby, and is really good at it Vegeta tries to get her to help please Beerus. August is well aware that the GoD could kill her easily, but she sees a pretty obvious problem and asks him: "Bake? with what ingredients, tools and supplies?" Unfortunately Vegeta forgot you can't bake sweets from thin air. at least she tries to help settle Buu down when the two fight over the pudding cups.

resurrection F has very few special interactions, she does however promise to make Beerus some cookies as their first direct interaction. August follows through with her promise during a filler arc, and is simply a spectator in the 6 & 7 tournament.

I can see most of her super interactions being related to Baking, fighting, the reality of what she is and just generally being kind to Beerus and Whis, since most of super doesn't have many interactions that would need her less flattering side.

regardless her absence in the universe tournament is contributed by her mutated status, most of her abilities would disqualify her realistically in her eyes, so she decided better safe than sorry. thankfully this gave her the chance to realize just how much she despises Frieza, as he's deceptive and takes lives without a care.

outside of that I've only seen the anime and movies, due to a limited budget so the last additional detail notes will be simple. August would likely have a soft spot for Broly, just as I could see her having for Goku, Gohan, Goten and Trunks as it's mainly caused by her choice to be kind, and what remains of her instincts before her mutation.

and the only thing from the manga that I will bring up, is I can see her having a bit of an almost sisterly relationship with Granola, mainly due to what they have in common more than anything else.

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~Base GT/Canon compliant GT timeline~

August never leaves with Goku, Pan and Trunks in any of the GT timelines. She helps distract Baby, but that's about it. She's horrified and disgusted by his actions. how could another Tuffle do such a thing? she hates him so much, he's hurt her friends, and the children she promised to look after. if it wasn't for her fear of Vegeta, she would break his nose, and wipe that smug grin off his face.

in the end she dies alone much later, her body finally wearing down enough so she can rest in peace within the grass.

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~GT 'B' timeline~

Baby has defeated Goku, out of desperation she dashes into Baby. She hopes the result will take after her more, giving up both their existence in hopes to save everyone she ever loved. this is the timeline that resulted in my Xenoverse 1 character Auggy, who started off as a what if.

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~GT 'G' timeline~

Baby is redeemed, and August lets him bunk at her place. they still dislike each other at first, but due to having somewhat similar goals, and quite a bit in common they end up surprisingly close. admittedly however Baby had to take the first step, so I am not exaggerating when I say slow burn enemies to lovers timeline.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

~Legends~

due to the desperation the timeline tournament has brought her to, and the fact vegeta has pushed her away for many years, leaving her pretty much unable to team up with any of her friends, August ends up on a team with Cooler and Baby.

August is the mediator and medic. Cooler is the more strict of the three, the one who makes sure to enforce things, and is more of the leader if anything. Baby is definitely more childish compared to the other two, but his ability to hide in the shadows so well makes him a great scout and rogue, in combination with his abilities and skills he helps provide information so the three can form plans together.

no one ends up showing interest in each other, due to not spending nearly enough time to feel such feelings.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

~Xenoverse~

Outside of the GT Bad timeline another version of August is a Conton city resenant, who mainly ends up there due to being one of Auggy's components. this version of August feels the most content, since in Conton city she would have; a husband and two adopted kids (three if you count Auggy), what she wanted.

And yes those adopted kids are Kamin and Oren, because I couldn't unsee it with her personality.

[robinyourcreator]

she's getting there! we approach!

~500 words out of the head and onto the page of the most anxious wet beast of a sad gay imaginable

"Now tell me something about yourself. And no tadpoles, dragons, marauding goblins or anything like that. Something about you."

It’s… an admittedly touching request. It’s still terrifying for you, personally, but you must admit it’s also entirely reasonable. Shadowheart has offered so much of herself to you; perhaps as much as she literally could have offered to you, with her memories sealed away. And you have in turn offered so very little in the grand scheme of things. Nothing more than bravado and pretenses, really. Nothing that would give anyone a modicum of power over you, with all the ugliness of you locked away, and your heart with it. 

You are beginning to realize the cruelty in this-- the disservice, the arrogance of it all, to make yourself into the sort of person that people will bare their souls to without hesitation, simply because it was the most effective way to ensure no one ever looked upon yours in return.

And for once in your life, you have stuck around long enough for someone to notice. There is an imbalance between you, and one Shadowheart is earnestly attempting to rectify. You know what she is really asking of you; and you can, in your eternal arrogance, even imagine you have some idea of why.

You swirl the wine in your cup for a moment before you take another sip for courage and smile at her from over the brim. “A secret spoken under cover of darkness, then? An offering for your Lady of Sorrows?”

Mm. Didn’t find nearly enough courage in that sip then, if you’re resorting to teasing.

But Shadowheart takes it in the spirit it was meant, humoring you, eyes sparkling and lips quirking at you from behind her own cup. “It doesn’t have to be a secret. But by all means, go ahead: I’ll never say no to more blackmail material.”

You chuckle. It comes out more nervously than you intended. “Well, I certainly have plenty of that to offer.” 

She smiles at you from over her cup again as she takes another drink. “I’m sure that you do.”

You nod sagely. “It’s braggadocio or secrets all the way down, I’m afraid.”

She raises a single, amused eyebrow. “Only the sorts of stories you’ll tell everyone, or no one, is that it?” 

You grin and shrug helplessly. “Something like that.”

“I’ll take the secret, then,” Shadowheart says magnanimously. “Make me one of the privileged few.”

You can hardly resist an opening like that, and so you don’t, fluttering your eyelashes and placing a dramatic hand on your sternum. “I’m so flattered you want to be my first, Shadowheart.”

She groans. “Oh, that was awful.”

“It really was,” you agree, your eyes crinkling in genuine delight that she's playing along.

This moment could be perfect; if only it could last forever, unchanging and impossible to ruin.

i am once again awake 50% earlier than i should be for my decrepit crypt of a body to function but i have JUST enough brain to yell

fuck it

i am getting the first date scribbles OUT of my brain and onto the page, nevermind if the continuity or dynamics change later

[lokiskitten]

hello i love ur works omg idk if ur still accepting reqs or suggestions regarding ur stepdad! tom imagines but what abt an imagine in which tom attempts to end the secret affair between him and the reader and then the reader is heartbroken so she gets herself a boyfriend which makes tom jealous then smut ?? idk HAHAHA tyyy

Tom Hiddleston | forbidden behavior

Stepdad!Tom Hiddleston x fem!reader

plot : around a week after your stepfather called it off regarding the bond you two had developed, you are caught hanging out with a couple of friends in a café. Noticing his presence outside of the building, you decide to join him only to receive the most peculiar lecture of your life.

warnings : stepdad!trope, stepdad x stepdaughter intercourse, jealousy, slight physical abuse, kissing, crotch groping, handjob.

A week had passed since your stepfather had decided to end the relationship the two of you had progressively developed behind your mother’s back. You obviously took this as betrayal, an unnecessary decision which easily led you to develop hatred for the older man- especially after he had managed to convince you that the moments you spent together filled him with as much bliss as it did for you. But these times were now over, and your first mission easily became to avoid him as soon as you penetrated inside of your own home. Before your mother, both you and Tom were obviously forced to make an effort in order to keep your secret on the low- scared that any suspicious behavior would lead your past to come flashing under the lights of the projectors.

On a warm Friday evening, you had decided to stop by a café with a couple of your friends in order to celebrate the end of the week. Within this group stood Trystan, a boy you had finally agreed on offering a chance after breaking up with Thomas. He was nice and well educated, a mass of long black hair covering the top of his head as well as his neck. The young man also brought home plenty of nice grades, which could only be a green flag to your high expectations holding self- adding up to how he had offered to help with your mathematics homework after school. Now this was a proposition you jumped on immediately, but which you knew wouldn’t be able to take place within the walls of your house- and that due to your dragon of a stepfather.

Being too busy laughing with your classmate, you hadn’t noticed Tom’s presence outside of the café, his body leant against his car as he watched you fall for someone else. In fact, he had been following you on your way back home from college nearly every day of the week- satisfying the weird obsession he held for your younger self and easing his crippling anxiety and possessive behaviors. Seeing you with another man couldn’t have driven him more upset, his fists clenching out of pure anger within the pockets of the suit he wore for work. Minutes passed by, and the older man remained leant against his car whilst growing more and more impatient regarding the sweet words and touches you appeared to offer the black haired boy. These touches he knew so well were meant to be his, and this overall sight easily led the adult to regret ever breaking it off with you.

When your head finally looked up in order to divert through the open doors of the café, your heart tightened upon witnessing the stern silhouette of your stepfather waiting against his car. Embrassement and fear progressively started to fill your organism, face decomposing whilst your friends continued to laugh with one another. Thankfully, it didn’t take long until Trystan noticed the way your mood had unexpectedly yet drastically changed. “Hey, Y/n?? You’re okay?” He asked on a concerned tone, his empathy leading your stomach to grow a couple of more knots at the thought of your stepdad witnessing such a scene. “Yeah..I’m fine. I think I’ll be going home now.” you responded politely, catching all of your mates off guard though none of them did a thing to hold you back. They could tell you appeared sick and pale.

“Take care.” Lizzie purred out as you swung your bag over your shoulder, the group’s curious eyes following your silhouette which exited through the door of the café only to end up joining an older man who stood nowhere far from here. Swallowing your saliva, you attempted your best to keep a rather proud expression on your face in order to push Tom a bit closer to the edge. You were aware that he absolutely despised it whenever you held an attitude. “Hi.” Your briefly said, not fighting the situation as your feet immediately started to lead you towards the other side of the car. “Who’s that guy you were with?” Tom immediately asked as he got into the driver’s seat, slamming the door shut behind him. You mimicked his gestures, and the two of you were now sat in the front of his vehicle.

“Just a friend. Why is it important anyway?” You answered harshly, leading your stepdad’s anger to rise above the edge. “Right.” He responded coldly, both of his hands firmly holding onto the steering wheel as he began to drive away from the café. Silently, you watched the way his veins popped out of his skin due to the pressure applied onto his palm- the way his jaw clenched easily matching with his overall tensed and aggressive behavior. Without showing any form of weakness, you simply decided to behave as if you were indifferent face to this situation. You couldn’t exactly tell where Tom was taking the two of you, but even after your breakup you still trusted him well enough not to bring any harm to your fragile mind and body.

You felt surprised and confused to watch him park his car in a nearly empty parking lot, the upset male obviously seeking intimacy for the peculiar lecture he was about to give you. But again, he remained unexpectedly silent, his jaw and chest being the only parts of his body which remained in action. He couldn’t appear to find proper words, though was he truly seeking any? Gathering your courage to take the first step, your lips parted shyly, a single word barely getting enough time to come out of your mouth before you were violently cut off by your stepfather. “Tom-“ you began, body jumping due to the man’s unexpected and quite violent reaction. His palm had collided with the steering wheel, as if the only sound of your voice made him remember about what he had seen back at the café. It was the first time you ever saw him behave in such a way. Usually, he was always calm, friendly. Anger wasn’t an emotion he often felt the need to summon.

“What were you thinking?!” He blamed, the accusations penetrating your ears and leaving your poor mind clueless regarding what he was referring to. All you could tell was that his tone carried hatred, and that therefore his overall body was probably full of this exact same wrath. “Tell me, what were you thinking?” He repeated, this time on a slightly softer tone though this unwelcome touch of dominance remained. Pressing his head back against the seat as air escaped his lips, you finally found the strength to step forward and explain yourself. “He’s just a friend from college. He doesn’t stand up next to you.” You promised, the words escaping your lips as if you two had never put an end to your inappropriate relationship in the first place. “I think about you every day. I think of us.” You added, growing hopeful face to how your words appeared to progressively calm him down.

Tom’s head turned towards yours, ocean blue eyes locking with your unique orbs as the empty parking lot made it feel as if the world around you had stopped. The way his chest moved up and down as he breathed led something to rise within your soul- a sensation you hadn’t felt for over a week... ever since he had decided to put an end to your affair. His veiny hand moved up to your cheek, fingers brushing against your cheekbone before he took the initiative to delicately push a bit of your hair behind your ear. “I don’t want you to see this boy again... ever. You’re mine. My property.” He spoke gently though asserted dominance, allowing you to loose yourself in his soothing tone. However, his head was soon to tilt to the left, his upper body moving closer to yours in order to steal a kiss.

You understood the signals and moved forward as well, his hand still on your cheek as your lips collided against one another’s. His jaw roamed air as Tom took the initiative to intensify the kiss, enjoying this moment after he had been craving the taste of your flesh ever since he took the stupid decision that was ending it all between the two of you. Within a matter of weeks, you had managed to make your own stepfather crazy about you and your aura, your body, flaws and qualities. And whilst Tom continued to enjoy the taste of your lips, your nostrils were filled with bliss as they were finally allowed to breath in his cologne again, a smell you had terribly missed. No scent could’ve potentially replaced the infamous perfume that was your stepfather’s and which you had grown used and attached to through your multiple intercourses.

Growing more and more heated, you took the initiative to slide your hand down until his crotch, fingers tightening against the thick material of his suit which allowed you to feel his prominent bulge through his pants. Tom groaned out of satisfaction as you began to massage his flaccid length which had yet to harden through his trousers, hips buckling upwards just so slightly as if his crotch desired to remain stuck to your palm forever- and that through the help of a denser contact. The warmth which emitted from his groin felt delightful under your bare fingers, a sensation which could only make you crave for more. And so did he. Keeping his lips against yours, your stepfather proceeded to slide both his hands down between his thick thighs, digits unbuttoning and unzipping his pants in a rush which finally allowed you to penetrate within his intimacy.

Sliding past the elastic of his briefs, your hand was soon to come in contact with the slightly hardened member which resided down Tom’s pants. This once he moaned, the vibrations penetrating inside of your moist cavity before his tongue slid inside of your mouth. You were soon to hold up a rather satisfying pace, rubbing up and down his shaft and stopping only when you felt the need to offer him some extra pleasure by giving attention to his testicles. The male broke the buccal contact to collide against his seat, eyelids shutting close as you carried on leading his cock towards orgasm. His member had now hardened properly, revealing his true and generous length which had recently been pulled out of his pants. Just like before, Tom found pleasure in thrusting his hips upwards and participating to the intercourse a bit more than he already was.

“That little boy of yours.. is his cock this big?” Your stepdad asked through seethed teeth, having trouble finding his words due to his clenched abdomen and twitching nutsack. “No...” you responded, being slightly out of breath due to the heated kiss you shared earlier. Hearing these satisfying words coming out of your mouth, the older man couldn’t help but raise his shirt in a hurry before white semen began to sprint out of his overly sensitive urethra, his shaft twitching and contracting in order to propel the sperm out of his crotch. You bit down onto your lower lip face to such a delightful sight, hand moving down to his testicles in order to praise them one last time. This move made your stepfather shiver. You two had finally found yourselves, and it wasn’t any time soon that the older man would ever agree to let go of you again.

“And as you can see... I’m not dead��- all jokes but yes, I am alive and giving the people what it wants😭 I’m sorry if it isn’t very good tho🥺 I hope y’all are taking care!

taglist : @theaudacitytowrite @devilsuga @bucky-soldat @winteralpine @fa-me @ineffablefanic @delightfulheartdream @rosie-posie08 @marygut1407 @wildxwidow @tabea3 @lokistoriesreblog @arzennn

[justnerdthings]

New Beginnings Ch.2

Female Reader x Liu Kang/Kung Lao (Not sure which yet)

Note: Chapter 2. Friend said last one was good. So have another. >w<

Raiden had introduced himself properly and explained Mortal Kombat to you. You were at a complete loss. You hadn’t believed any of it at first, but Raiden had made it clear that this was not a dream or trick. The man shot lightning out of his hand! You were convinced. This was real. It had to be. You weren’t creative enough to dream this up. He was a god.

You were still in shock as Liu led you through the hallways again, this time avoiding any views of the outside. You were lost in your own mind until he stopped at a door. Again, a very simple door.

“This is your room,” He told you, eyes searching you again as he opened the door and gestured for you to take a look.

The room was small and very modest. A simple bed was pushed against a wall. A small wooden table and chair was pushed against the other side. Another doorway led to a small bathroom that, thankfully, had a modern-enough sink and toilet. It would do for one night at least.

“Will you stay and fight Shang Tsung?” Liu asked gently, feeling you out. Raiden had admitted that you didn’t need to help them. Raiden would not force you. But Raiden did say it was your duty. The dragon mark on your left shoulder blade was proof.

Funny. People always did say your birthmark looked like a dragon.

But would you stay? You weren’t sure. This was so much to take in. Why you? You had no experience fighting. You once punched a bully in grade school, but that was it!

You sighed and combed your fingers through your hair. “I don’t know,” You answered. Obviously it wasn’t the answer Liu had hoped for. “I just… This is crazy.”

He nodded. “I understand,” He said, sincerity in his voice. “It’s your decision.”

You turned and looked at him standing in the doorway. “You do understand, don’t you?”

He lifted a brow curiously. “Yes. I felt similar when I was told of Mortal Kombat as well.”

“When was that?”

He thought for a moment. “A little over ten years now.”

“Ten years? You’ve been training here for ten years?”

“Here? Yes. But I grew up in a shaolin monastery. I’ve been training most of my life.”

So he was a monk. Now his behavior made sense. “Did you get taken here out of the blue too?”

“No.” He shook his head. “I defeated a child trafficker and gained his mark. I unlocked my arcana soon after. Lord Raiden found me then. I’ve been here ever since.”

“You never left? At all? Not even to visit family?”

“Oh, yes. I am free to come and go as I please. I often leave to run errands for Lord Raiden.”

“Errands?”

“Yes.”

“Like eggs and milk errands?”

He laughed and shook his head. “To find people and information mostly.”

“Oh.” You weren’t sure what to say to that.

“Does this help you decide if you will stay?”

“I think I just need some time to digest this,” You admitted.

He nodded again. “Speaking of digesting,” He spoke, “Would you like some dinner?”

Oh, god, yes, you thought. You still had no idea when the last time you ate was. A day? Two? Raiden said you were passed out for quite some time. “Yes.” You nodded. “Please.”

Liu smiled again. You liked his smile. It was genuine. Kind. Sincere. He stepped back out of the doorway, allowing you to step out of the room.

You were led into a large room filled with fur rugs and handmade cushions. A low table was placed in the center and another man was already seated and eating. He looked up as Liu led you over.

“Brother, this is Y/N,” Liu introduced you. “She has the mark,” Liu told him as he sat across from him at the table.

“Hello.” You hesitated. This guy had a different energy about him. Or maybe it was just your anxiety. He, you, and Liu were all about the same age. And he, like Liu, was attractive. He probably had a nice ass too.

You weren’t sure if you imagined it or not, but Raiden’s laugh echoed in your mind. Averting your eyes, you lowered yourself next to Liu.

“You don’t look like a fighter,” the man said with a mouth full. His eyes were looking you up and down critically.

“Don’t be rude,” Liu chided as he watched.

The man glanced to Liu as he swallowed his food, then looked back to you. “My name is Kung Lao,” He introduced. “Descendant of the Great Kung Lao.” He was proud of himself.

“Oh…” Was he a prince or something?

“You have no idea who that is, do you?” Kung Lao accused, pointing his chopsticks at you.

A small shrug tugged up your shoulders as you shook your head slowly.

Lao grinned and shook his own head as he looked to Liu. He stopped once he noticed his brother’s disapproval. “So what do you do, Y/N?” he asked as he looked back to you. The way he said your name didn’t bring you much comfort in his presence.

As you stared at him, trying to think of how to answer him, he’d bitten into an egg roll while keeping eye contact with you. “Um… Not really anything, I guess,” you said, nerves starting to get the best of you. This guy was more intimidating than Raiden was.

“Nothing?” Lao asked. “You must do something. You’re breathing right now. That’s something.”

“Lao…” Liu warned and passed you a bowl of rice.

You took the bowl with a small, awkward smile to Liu and began to make your plate. Maybe if you just didn’t look at Kung Lao, you wouldn’t feel so judged. “Well, I’ve been a nurse for the past seven years… But it’s hardly anything to talk about. I just work at a small office. Nothing ever really happens there.”

“That’s an honorable career,” Liu said as he began to eat.

“If nothing happens there, why do you stay? Seems boring,” Lao commented.

“I kinda like boring,” You admitted. “I uh… I used to have real bad anxiety as a kid. Boring is comfortable. Routine.”

“Anxiety?” Lao asked.

“Yeah. It uh… It got so bad that eventually I was scared to leave the house.”

“That’s awful,” Liu said with a frown.

You nodded. It was always hard to talk about your anxiety. But Liu seemed mindful enough to not tease you or make you feel like an idiot. “Eventually I couldn’t take it anymore and went to see a doctor. They put me on medication for it. I was a new person after I got used to the meds. Felt like I could breathe again.”

“What made you so anxious that you would be afraid of leaving your house?” Lao asked, harsher in his words. What did you have to worry about compared to him.

“I don’t really know,” you admitted. “I was always teased as a kid. I was the weird kid. Didn’t have a lot of friends.”

“Childhood trauma?” Liu asked.

“Maybe?” You shrugged, not sure. You never really tried to get to the bottom of it.

“Is that where your fear of heights comes from?” Liu asked.

That one you did know. You gave a small laugh as you straightened up a bit. “No. That was me falling out of a tree as a kid.”

“Did you hurt yourself?” Liu asked.

You shook your head. “No. Just some scrapes and bumps. It just kinda stuck with me after that though. Never climbed another tree.”

“Well, at least you weren’t harmed,” Liu said as he ate.

“If you didn’t get hurt, then why were you so scared to climb another tree?” Lao asked.

“I don’t know. Guess it’s one of those weird things that happens when you’re a kid,” You told him.

“You have bigger things to worry about now, than falling from trees,” Lao pressed.

You stared at your plate of food. Lao was right. Scared of climbing trees sure did sound stupid now that you knew about Mortal Kombat. Weird, the idea of Mortal Kombat didn’t freak you out as much as climbing a tree. “Anxiety doesn’t ever really make sense,” You told Lao. “I used to be perfectly fine one minute, then crying and convinced I was about to die the next.”

“Were you being attacked?” Lao asked.

“Not by a person,” You answered.

“Animal?” Liu chimed in, curious.

You shook your head. “Anxiety.”

Lao just stared at you. It didn’t make any sense to him.

Liu was more curious than confused. “So your own mind was attacking you,” he concluded after a moment of thought.

You nodded. “Yeah.” You moved some food around your plate idly. “I know. It makes me sound crazy. But it hasn’t happened in years.”

“Because of the medicine the doctor gave you,” Liu concluded again.

“Right,” you answered.

“So, let me get this straight,” Lao began. “A nervous wreck of a person, who is scared of climbing trees, and has no formal training to fight, has the dragon mark?”

“Yeah, I’m kinda lost on that too,” you admitted.

Lao looked to Liu in disbelief. “Is Lord Raiden out of his mind?”

“I’m sure he knows something we don’t,” Lui told him.

“Mortal Kombat is only a few years away. She won’t be ready!” Lao exclaimed in annoyance.

“We’ll just have to do our best,” Liu answered and lifted some rice to his mouth.

“She’ll have to train every hour, every day, to be even remotely decent,” Lao said.

“Lord Raiden knows what’s best,” Liu said.

“Lord Raiden’s out of his damn mind!” Lao shouted.

You’d gotten used to people talking about you as if you weren’t there when you were a kid. But it hadn’t happened much since then. You set your chopsticks down. “Look, I don’t know if I ever could be ready for Mortal Kombat. I don’t know if I’ll even try. But do you really think it’s a good idea to talk that way about guy who literally shoots lightning out of his hands? And another thing, I am not a nervous wreck of a person!” You looked right at Kung Lao, clearly unamused.

Lao just looked at you, at a loss for words, for what seemed like forever. It was really only a few seconds before he looked to Liu and grinned.

Liu was already grinning, looking at his food.

With a huff, you pushed away from the table. “Sorry, Liu. I think I lost my appetite,” you said, annoyed… Doubting yourself… Still hungry, but you’d had enough of Lao.

Liu looked over with concern as you stood. He set his bowl down and stood with you. He was going to try and convince you to stay, but decided against it. “Would you like me to walk you back to your room?” He asked kindly.

You’d get lost if you didn’t have help. You nodded and turned for the door.

Lao was still grinning as he continued his meal.

Liu quickly joined you in the hallway. “Y/N,” He spoke carefully. “I apologize for Lao’s behavior. He’s not usually like that.”

You sucked in a stiff breath. You shook your head. “No. It’s okay. He’s right. I have no business being here.”

“Don’t let him scare you away. Lord Raiden believes you’re worthy. That’s enough for me. Lao will come around,” Liu said as he began to lead you down the hall.

Maybe. Maybe Raiden did know something you didn’t yet. “The monk I met when I woke up… Feng, I think. He said something about my arcana saving me.”

Liu looked at you, then nodded. “I heard about that. I don’t know the details though…”

“I don’t even remember doing anything,” You said.

After leaving you at your room, Liu returned to Lao. He sat back at the table. Looking to a still grinning Lao. He returned it.

“She has a fire in her,” Lao said.

“She does.” Liu agreed.

“I heard she passed your test,” Lao inquired.

Liu, glancing to him, sipped from his tea, then nodded. “Five times.”

Lao was surprised to hear that. He figured you’d only make it once if at all.

“It took some coaching the first couple times, but by the fourth one she was doing it on her own,” Liu explained.

“Impressive. If her anxiety is as bad as she said, she manages it well,” Lao said.

Liu nodded again. “How much of it was the medicine, I wonder.”

Lao had almost forgot. “Ah. That may be an issue.”

“Withdrawal from it may prove difficult.”

“Meditation training is first on your list,” Lao suspected. He knew how Liu thought.

Liu nodded. “How about yours. Did she pass your test?”

“I would have liked to see more, but it's a start,” Lao answered with a nod.

“You may get your wish if you keep up that act of yours,” Liu said.

“Oh, I intend to.” Lao smirked.

"Don't scare her away," Liu warned.

"She'll stay," Lao said with his mouth full. "She faced her fear five times. She's determined. And a nurse?" He nodded as he took another bite. "She commits herself to helping."

[gladerwolfstarkimagines]

Tea Shop Part One - Zuko x female reader series

Imagine being an air acolyte searching for the avatar in Ba Sing Sei and instead finding yourself working beside the dragon of the west and the banished prince of the fire nation, but of course you know them as Mushi and Lee. From the start you and Zuko clash, you hate his angry rude attitude and he hates how often you call him out on his poor behaviour. Your dislike grows until it’s almost unbearable and then his life is suddenly placed in your hands. After that and things change...

Part two here

Part three here

Part four here

(Note, in the readers view Zuko = Lee and Iroh = Mushi but when it’s from Zuko’s or Iroh’s pov they will be Zuko and Iroh. Hope that’s not too confusing!

Prologue: You were descended from air benders and were one of the last air aceloytes in the world. Your family was not in the air nation when the fire nation attacked a century ago, by luck your grandfather was in Omashu. When he heard the news he was devastated but crippled with fear he stayed and hid in the Earth kingdom. He married your grandmother and tried to assimilate into the earth kingdom. Your grandparents were terrified of the fire nation and therefore keeping the air nation traditions alive was not something they were focused on. So by the time you were born only your Uncle Pathik made an effort to keep the air nation traditions alive, even becoming a monk to devote himself to the cause. Your family was under the belief if they kept quiet the fire nation wouldn’t find them but of course they did. The fire nation arrested your family for the suspicion of practicing air bending, despite the fact none of you could actual airbend. The association enough was worth a life long imprisonment and so your family we’re shipped away to the deepest prison known. Your father managed to smuggle you out of the city but he wasn’t so lucky. You were devestated but after your escape headed to the only family you had left, your eccentric uncle’s home at the eastern air temple. You managed to avoid warrants for your arrest with shows of earth bending, a skill inhertited by your grandmother. Fire nation guards couldn’t comprehend someone being an air aceloyte and an earth bender and so the gift saved your life. You finally tracked down your uncle and decided that day to dedicate yourself to the air nation in spite of the fire nation. They’d taken your family but they wouldn’t take your culture. You asked your uncle to teach you all he knew and worked hard to become an air acolyte like your grandfather. It all seemed pointless, you and your uncle against the whole fire nation and then you heard the avatar was back. You made it your mission to find him and help him rebuild the air nation. You told your uncle your plan and he told you to go to Ba Sing Sei, always allusuive, he told you nothing more than you’d find what you needed there and so you set off. You expected to find the avatar quickly but had been there a whole year with no sign of him. You we’re giving up hope you’d ever find him and you’d be stuck working as a waitress in the lower ring forever when two new staff members changed that.  

Your POV

You showed up for your shift at the tea shop to find your boss had finally hired some more staff. You were thrilled and eyed the two newcomers with interest as your boss discussed the basic tasks with them while you ran the tea shop, eventually the tour brought them to you and you were introduced. "This is my main waitress" your boss said to the two men "y/n these are your two new coworkers". You nodded looking them over, the older man smiled at you but the younger one stared at the ground, or more accurately glared. He definitely did not seem pleased to be here. "Nice to meet you" you offered and the old man smiled and told you his name. You looked to the younger one expectantly and the man nudged him. "’I’m Lee" he replied flatly barely glancing at you. “Well welcome” you smiled and Mushi smiled at you but the boy, Lee, didn’t even look at you. “Now on with the tour” your boss cried and you watched Mushi talk to him while Lee sulked. Great your new co-worker was a pouty angry teenager. He’d be fun to work with.  

1 week later

Your prediction was true, you were an easy going person who could usually get along with anyone...expect this new boy. The boy was miserable and moody. He was inconsiderate and obviously didn’t work well in teams. His customer service poor and his tea making skills only just adequate. The fact he was so rude prompted you to mess with him, rude people were fair game as far as you were concerned and so you made sure not to help him. If the waiter couldn’t show common courtesy than neither would you. This resulted in a lot of shared glares and bickering between the two of you. You knew it went against your air nomad roots to pick on people but when the person was a moody rude immature man who never got your name right, surely the monks saw that as an exception right?

You arrived at the tea shop for your afternoon shift and saw Lee was leaving. That was nice. Things between you had gotten worse over the past week and shifts with him were almost unbareable. Being mean didn’t come naturally to you but something about this man made your blood boil. Lee noticed you come into the shop and held out an apron to you. Suprised you went to take it when he dropped it on the floor with a laugh. You rolled your eyes at him and snatched it up off the floor. Lee smirked and you glared. You watched him place his belongings on the counter as he prepared to leave, something you’d told him not to do many times as it wasn’t sanitary and got an idea. A glass of water was also on the counter and you smirked, because your manager was such a cheapskate the counter was made of earth. You flicked your hand and knocked the glass over onto Lee’s stuff. Lee cried out and groaned as it soaked his bag and coat. Lee looked around and caught you smiling. “You....” he started when Mushi appeared “y/n I need three jasmine teas”. You nodded “on it” and grinned at Lee’s angry glare that was glued to you as you walked past him.

Iroh’s POV

Iroh noticed Zuko pouting about something and paused as you left to go make the tea like he’d asked. Zuko was angrily shaking his jacket and Iroh frowned “Lee are you...”. “She! She is the worst! Did you see what she just did to me” Zuko cried holding his bag out to Iroh who frowned. The bag had a tiny wet stain. “Ow yes this is very serious...the sun might not even dry it before you reach home!” Iroh cried. Zuko rolled his eyes “y/n did this! Did you know she’s an earth bender?”. “No but we are in the greatest earth city in the world...it’s not suprising”. “She can’t treat me like that” Zuko carried on ignoring Iroh’s comment “she can’t get away with this, who does she think she is?”. “Hasn’t she told you numerous times not to put your stuff on the counter?”. “She...I don’t know! I don’t listen to her! She’s always telling me how to do stuff like i’m a...”. “New employee?” Iroh asked with a smile and Zuko scoffed. “This is ridiculous i’m sick of this” and he stormed from the tea shop. Iroh laughed and glanced to where you stood serving customers, you’d certainly gotten under his nephew’s skin and it was entertaining if nothing else.

Your POV

When the afternoon rush finally died down you got a chance to chat to Mushi. Thank god he was nothing like his nephew, there was a down side though. Despite not be liked him he loved talking about his nephew and seemed to constantly mention him to you, like today. “Y/n do you think you’d be able to work the late shift with me tomorrow night?" he asked "it was supposed to be Lee’s shift but he has a date". "Really?" you asked more than fairly suprised, "is it that girl who’s always in here?". Mushi nodded "yes!" and you laughed "i knew it! She asked for Lee to serve her even though his waiter skills are awful!". Mushi laughed "love is blind, she’s hopefully seen past his moody exterior to the man he is beneath” Mushi smiled at you but his hint went right over your head. "I can cover his shift" you agreed and Mushi grinned "Thank you y/n!". You told him it was fine and smirked, just the idea of Lee on a date was enough to make you laugh.

2 days later

You probably shouldn’t have offered to work that late shift for Mushi when you were opening in the morning too but you needed the money so you dragged yourself out of bed way earlier than you would’ve liked. The idea of teasing Lee about his date motivating you and when you saw him waiting outside the tea shop you smirked. "Morning" you called loudly making him jump. He swore and you smirked unlocking the door. "It’s your shift?” he complained “why are you always here?". "Because i work here idiot" you said going to roll your eyes before you calmed yourself, Lee wouldn’t ruin your good mood...or stop you teasing him about his night out. "So how was the date?" you asked smirking. Lee didn’t look at you, he didn’t even show he’d so much as heard you. It made him so much harder to annoy when he didn’t respond so you tried again. "Hey i covered for you I expect some payment" you informed him but he just shrugged "i didn’t ask you to cover for me". "Yeah but i was still the person who did so you could run around on a date" you said annoyed. The man always managed to do this, you’d start messing with him and come off angrier than him somehow. Lee only shrugged "not my problem" and you glared. Your good mood was slipping.

All day Lee’s attitude annoyed you more and more. He was in a worse mood than ever and it showed. He was rude to customers, he mixed up orders and refused to correct them, he spoke back to you when you were only trying to help him. So by the end of your shift you were ready to strangle him. When Mushi and another worker showed up to relieve you, a sigh of relief escaped without you even realising. You let all your anger go, prepared to move...and then you turned around and tripped over the rubbish bag you’d asked Lee to take out 3 times. From your crumpled position of the floor you spotted him already ready to leave and your anger flared back up. You marched to him and pressed the bag into him “here”. “Why would I want this?” he asked and you glared “it’s the rubbish you forgot to take out”. “I didn’t forget I just didn’t want to” he shrugged and you twitched. “Wow that’s a great attitude, take it outside now”. “No, you’re not my boss, you can’t tell me what to do”. He opened the back door and sauntered out and you followed him seeing red. You threw the bag at him hitting him on the shoulder and let out an angry groan. “What’s your problem?” you cried. “What’s your problem” Lee replied squaring up to you but you wouldn’t back down. “My problem is you’re an awful waiter and an intolerable human”. “Wow that hurts me so much” Lee said sarcastically and you balled your fists. “What is wrong with you?” you called “nobodies making you work here, if it’s so awful find another job! It’s not my fault you’re miserable all the time so stop acting like it is!" you yelled "you’re mad at the world? Well get in line! Nothing gets better by you acting like a jerk but if you hate it here so much leave!" and you slammed the door in his face.

Later that day

Your day hadn’t gotten much better as it went on but the end was finally in sight. You'd just finished your shift at a nearby restaurant you also worked at when you noticed two men fighting. You frowned but turned the other way. Sure it wasn’t the noble thing to do but you'd learnt to only seek trouble in certain situations and in back alleys at night was not one of those moments. The trouble apparently didn’t want to leave you alone however and you heard sounds telling you the fighting was following you. Suddenly one of them crashed past you, the other following with a sword. You glared and then gaped to see Lee was one of the men fighting. It didn't suprise you he’d be in a street fight but to be fair he seemed to be the one getting attacked. Shocked you watched, impressed by how skilled the two men were. Lee was obviously not a tea maker and according to the other guy he was actually a fire bender.

The man managed to disarm Lee and he smirked. "you’re defence less, you’ll have to firebend to stop me doing this" and swept his sword towards Lee. Lee closed his eyes unable to get out of his grip and just accepted the swing. You couldn't. Call it the airbender roots in you but you wouldn’t watch senseless violence and just do nothing, even for someone as annoying as Lee. "No" you shouted and sent a rock hurtling towards the man. You knocked him off Lee and stepped forwards "leave him alone". "Who’s this your body guard?" the boy asked and you raised an eyebrow "actually i’m a waitress". Lee stood beside you and you both faced the attacker when you heard yelling. Suddenly two Dai Li agents arrived and looked between you and Lee to the boy. "What’s going on here?" they asked and you turned to them. You’d gotten pretty good at maniuplating the authorities in your hidden life so knew how to play the Dai Li. “Officers thank god you’re here! This man attacked me and my friend for no reason, he was going to hurt him so i had to earth bend! I didn’t mean to hurt anyone I swear". "She’s right" a man who’d been watching called and the Dai Li fixed their eyes on the other boy. He tried to resist but they forced him into a cart and it disappeared down the road. "I’m sorry this happened to you" the agent told you and Lee "please go on and enjoy your night". You and Lee nodded and turned to walk away, when you were out of ear shot Lee spoke. "You didn’t have to help me" he started and you rolled your eyes sick of this and started to walk away. "No!" he said catching you up "i didn’t mean it like that, i just meant...after today i figured you hated me". "I don’t hate anyone" you replied "but you come pretty close sometimes". You thought his mouth almost curved into a smile and he nodded. "What were you doing out here?" he asked "and are you in a uniform". "I work at a restaurant near here" you explained. "You have two jobs?". "Three" you said embarassed "rent’s hard". Lee nodded his head down and you were pleased he didn’t give you sympathy. "I’m not you know" he said suddenly and you frowned “what?”. “A firebender...i’m not one" he clarified. "I wouldn’t care if you are" you shrugged and Lee frowned "really i assumed because of your..." and he trailed off. "Because of my what?" you asked turning to face him and Lee paled. He looked to your arm without meaning to and you knew he’d seen the scar that lay there. "i didn’t mean to, your sleeve was pushed up the other day..." he rushed to explain reading your expression "’i’m sorry for mentioning it". You touched your arm self consciously, the place where your burn crisscrossed it and frowned. A fire nation solider had give it you on your trip to the eastern air temple, he was annoyed your earth bending proved you couldn’t be the run away air acolyte and so he burned you as punishment.  "It’s okay" you said after a while "but no it doesn’t change things, i don’t blame all firebenders just because one burnt me". Lee looked shocked at that and you got a feeling he didn’t have that same view about the person who burnt him. "It doesn’t matter to me if you're a fire bender or the earth king himself, we’re all just human". Lee paused suprised to hear you say something so philosophical and nodded. "’I’m sorry, for earlier not this" he said softly "i have been...difficult". "Just difficult?" you asked and he shot you a glare. "Sorry...you were saying?". He sighed and glanced back at you "i’m working on my anger" he told you "i’ll try and be less of a jerk". "I’ll believe it when i see it" you replied but smirked to let him know you were joking.

You walked the rest of the way in silence and reached the tea house quickly. Mushi was cleaning up damage that must’ve been caused by the fight but dropped his broom when he saw Lee. “Z..Lee you’re okay” he cried rushing over “what happened?”. “It was fine, y/n helped me and Jet was arrested”. “You helped him?” Mushi asked smiling between you both and you and Lee rolled your eyes simultaneously. “It was nothing” you said quickly “i’d have done it for anyone”. You thought Lee’s eyes narrowed at that comment and so quickly added “but i’m glad you’re okay”. Lee looked at you suprised but nodded “thanks”. You nodded awkwardly and turned “so i’ll be going home, see you guys tomorrow”. “Bye y/n and thanks again” Mushi called after you.

Zuko and Iroh’s POV

As soon as you were gone Iroh smirked at Zuko “so...the two of you seem to have bonded”. “Don’t” Zuko replied pushing past him. Iroh’s smirk grew as he noticed the slight blush on his nephews cheek, he knew he’d sensed chemistry there. Thank god the two of you finally were realising it too.

____

I made a new Zuko series! I always love how angsty and stroppy season 2 Zuko was so thought I’d write a series around that. Hope you like it!!!

[thinkingimmensely]

Before Dinner (Charlie Weasley x Reader/MC | Bill Weasley x Reader/MC (onesided)

A/N: Hi guys! It’s been forever! So the pandemic’s still a thing and I’ve been coping with nothing else but games. (It has also been a while since I last played Hogwarts Mystery huhu) So, as you can tell, I haven’t been writing lately and I’m rusty as hell but this was in my drafts and when I read it again, I realized it was almost finished, and I’ve got some inspiration from listening to TSwift’s evermore album. So tadah!

This could be read as a sequel of After Breakfast or as a stand-alone. This happens way before Bill meets Fleur, and I like to imagine that he’s been hung up on our cursebreaker until then.   

I sure hope all of you are well out there and staying safe!  

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything in the Potterverse!

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Sweat beaded down his forehead as he blasted the practice dummy with Incendio again. It was one of his best spells, and it was also the first spell he taught her.

BLAST!

Every little memory they had together during their time in Hogwarts replayed in his head, particularly on the time when he asked her if he was her favorite Weasley brother. She had flushed then, totally caught off guard, saying she hadn’t even met all his brothers yet. He really wished he was her favorite.

BLAST!

“Bill we want to tell you something-“

BLAST!

The dummy swayed and nearly toppled over as the spell struck right home but eventually regained its balance as expected.

“You trying to kill that thing?”

He stopped and turned to the owner of the voice– Charlie; his younger brother, best friend, and the person he’d absolutely do anything for. He was fiddling with his wand as he approached, his brown eyes unsure.

Bill wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt and tried to catch his breath; he hadn’t realized he was out of breath until now. “Where’s Y/N?” It was surprising to see the two apart after they had decided to announce their joyous news after breakfast earlier. A wedding with him as witness, and it was to take place tomorrow. Bloody hell.

Joyous... it was supposed to be joyous, but why did Bill feel anything but joy?

“She’s writing a letter to the old gang back at the cottage.” Charlie replied nonchalantly. “Are you okay?” He immediately followed up, dropping the previous topic.

Bill raised a brow at him. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I dunno,” His brother shrugged, “maybe because you look like you could murder someone right now?”

Bill sighed and looked down at the ground for a moment in thought. Was he really that obvious?

Charlie bit his lower lip nervously, “Is this about the family? I know it’s sudden and mom would probably hate me for not telling her, let alone inviting them all but I didn’t want to pressure Y/N.” His shoulders slumped, “I don’t want her to feel like she has to live up to any wedding expectations and invite people she doesn’t like to keep up appearances.”

Oh, of course Charlie didn’t know. He shouldn’t be surprised though since his brother was so painfully oblivious most of the time that it took him years to realize his feeling for Y/N; but he wasn’t one to talk either since he’s practically the same.

He could tell him. But he wouldn’t. He knew how deeply Charlie felt for her, and he knew he’d probably never feel that way about another person ever again.

Patting his younger brother on the shoulder, he mustered out the sincerest smile he could, “It’s nothing Charlie, just worried I might be losing my curse breaking partner is all.”

Charlie let out a sigh of relief and chuckled, pushing his arm lightly. “You’re impossible.” The both of them shared a laugh and after what seemed like a couple of minutes Charlie let out a small smile, “You’re never going to lose her... I mean, she’s going off to Egypt right after.”

Bill raised a brow at that. He assumed the couple would want to spend at least a week more together. Before he could question it further though, Charlie had already excused himself when Y/N stood by the doorway of the cottage. He watched as his brother took full strides to reach her immediately, they smiled at each other and exchanged a couple of words before Charlie went inside.

Y/N turned her attention to him then and he could feel something inside him quench. As she approached him, with a totally different demeanor than Charlie did earlier, she looked breathtakingly happy with a smile that reached from ear to ear, her bright eyes twinkling with delight, and a light skip in her step. “Hey, you.” She greeted when she reached him and her smile was so contagious that he couldn’t help but let out his own.

“Hey, you.” He answered, noticing how giddy she looked. “Done writing those letters?”

She bobbed her head up and down, “Yeah, they’ll no doubt flip when they receive it.” She started to chortle.

Bill grinned at her, yeah he could just picture the old gang doing just that; he wouldn’t even be surprised if one of them showed up out of the blue tomorrow for the occasion. Silence hung between them and he noticed Y/N biting her lower lip, anxiously swaying around on her heel.

“Want to talk? I reckon we can spare a few words before dinner.”

She immediately nodded her head so they stalked off towards one of the few uprooted tree trunks (courtesy of Norberta according to Charlie) and sat down. The crickets had just started to ring out and they looked at the pink and orange hues of the sky as the sun slowly drifted off for the night. Smoke escaped the stone chimney of the cottage; Charlie must’ve started making dinner.

Bill sighed and ran a hand through his no doubt, messy ginger locks in an attempt to tame it, but it just stuck to his still sweaty forehead. Y/N must’ve noticed his plight because she dug out a handkerchief from the pocket of her jeans and handed it to him together with one of her elastic bands around her wrist.

He immediately tied his hair back into a ponytail, wiping his forehead with the handkerchief and pocketed it.

She gave him a look and he raised a brow in question. She shook her head, “Nothing.”

He nudged her with his elbow, “Come on, I know that look, I’ve seen it a million times. What’s on your mind?” He did pride himself in knowing a lot about her, maybe sometimes even more than Charlie, and it brought him some sort of comfort.

She breathed deeply, “I just can’t believe we’re really doing this. My mind’s still reeling. I mean, what if we’re heading into this too fast without really thinking it through?”

If she only knew that his mind was reeling as well. Putting on his best older brother facade, he placed a hand on her shoulder in encouragement. “It’ll be fine Y/N. Charlie and you... you’re two pieces of a puzzle. Besides, both of you are head over heels with each other even during our Hogwarts years, so it’s not exactly a surprise to see the both of you decide to settle down early.”

“What? Charlie did not like me back at Hogwarts.” She laughed as she shook her head, “It was always dragons with him. However frustrating it was, it’s part of his charm.”

“Ha! Please, Charlie liked you even if he didn’t realize it. I mean, other than dragons, he only talked about you for most of the time.” He saw the blush rush to her face with that newfound knowledge

His words seemed to do the trick as he saw her visibly relax and flash a smile at him. “You’re the best, Bill.” She pulled him into a hug and though surprised, he found himself hugging her back.

“You know you’ve always got me.” He told her through the cracks forming in his heart.

They were family now and she would be the best sister-in-law he could ever have asked for. 

The hug didn’t seem to last long enough as she pulled away. She soon stood up, signaling the end of their conversation and so he did too. 

Was he still smiling? He didn’t know, and if he wasn’t, Y/N chose not to comment. “You know I’ve always got your back too.” She said before the both of them slowly made their way back to the cottage.

“Y/N-” He called out to her just before they reached the doorway. Y/N stopped and turned back to him, raising a brow in question. “You should take another week off after the wedding, I’ll cover for you at work so you don’t have to worry.” 

She beamed at him which made everything worth it. If she only knew he’d do anything for her. “Did I tell you that you’re the best?” 

He grinned, “You did earlier actually,” He moved ahead and opened the door for her, “but I don’t mind hearing it again often.” 

She let out a hearty laugh and playfully struck him on the chest. “Oh, you!” She went inside, running her boots on the welcome mat. “Charlie! Guess what!” She called out and proceeded to the kitchen where her fiancé was waiting for them. 

Bill shook his head and let out a soft chuckle.

Y/N may not be his ever after but he was glad that Charlie, and not anyone else, was hers.

———————————————

Related Stories: No Expectations | After Breakfast

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in support of Texas relief, @wincest-endgame donated $25, and requested Sam & the amulet through the years. Thank you for donating!

to get your own personalized fic, please see this post. (no longer taking prompts)

(read on AO3)

Dean pushes Sam into the bathroom, after what feels like a day of questioning and caution and Dean being withholding—he's so bad at it, Sam doesn't know why he even tries—and Bobby avoiding Sam's eyes—and Sam'll figure that out, eventually—but it's really only four in the afternoon, and he's got food in his belly for the first time in what feels like a week but he's assured is a year, and he's had a beer and a cup of coffee and Dean's squeezed his arm, on his bicep just above the bend of his elbow, and looked into his eyes for a full heart-rich moment when Bobby was on the phone in the kitchen and couldn't see—and they didn't do anything, of course they didn't, not in Bobby's house, but Sam closed the door behind himself with that look thick in his head, the knowing that Dean was safe and okay and that Lucifer didn't hurt him—that everyone was okay, that what he'd done by jumping into the cage had worked when he hadn't been sure, not at all, that it would—and he still doesn't really know how he got out but he'll get that out of Dean eventually—and he turns on the shower and smiles at the rickety jump of the hot water because, holy shit, he's alive to suffer Bobby's godawful shower—and he pulls the shirt off over his head, and unbuttons his jeans, and fishes in his pocket for his phone and his wallet like he always does—and finds a new phone that he doesn't recognize, which makes him frown, a wallet that he does, and—the amulet.

The air goes out of him. The shower's guttering down, getting warm at last. He hears Dean's voice through the door, saying something to Bobby although Sam doesn't know what. Sam twines the leather cord around his fingers and crushes the little metal head in his palm, standing there in his socks and boxers. He didn't lose it. Somehow he—hadn't thought about it, until now, but now that he has he just—assumed it'd be gone. He's not in the same clothes he was wearing before he fell, so—did Dean—? He doesn't know and in this second doesn't care. He brings his closed fist up to his mouth, the cord thin and worn against his lips. He breathes in, slow.

The last time he held it in his hand was—Detroit. Milkjugs of blood sitting in the trunk. Dean—somewhere, talking to Cas maybe, and Sam alone, and Sam was alone a lot then. It feels like yesterday. He'd felt distant somehow. Even if Dean had forgiven him, or at least had been willing to try to forgive him. Ever since the second he'd made the decision to say yes, and decided to make Dean agree, it was like he'd been one step outside his life, looking in. Watching Dean try to accept it and knowing Dean never would. Watching Dean, with his hands in his pockets, and his hand curled so hard around the amulet that the horned edge had actually cut into his palm and he'd bled, inside his jeans. Not minding that and squeezing it tighter. Reminding himself why what he was doing mattered so he wouldn't falter. He wasn't going to falter.

Lucifer had healed that little wound without even acknowledging it. Sam remembers that if nothing else. He opens his hand and he's made sore white marks where the edges of the demon-head have cut into his palm. The shower hisses, next to him, and there's a thump of the side of a fist against the door—"Hey, princess, don't take forever on the primping," Dean says, muffled, the idiot—christ, Sam loves him.

He looks up at the door, startled. Creak of floorboards outside, like Dean's just standing there. Sam blinks at the peeled paint, and calls back, "Dude, it's my first shower in a year, hold your horses," and Dean says, "Yeah, yeah," and Sam closes his hand around the amulet again, his chest—thick. He can't take a full breath. He stoops, and loops the amulet cord around itself three times, four, and tucks it back down into the deepest corner of the pocket of his jeans. He crouches there for a second, feeling—feeling. The steam in the air curls against his skin. He has to stand up. Take the shower, get into fresh clothes, get back out into the house, figure things out. Figure where the world is, after a year without him in it. He crouches there, instead, taking in air. There's a little spot on his jeans, he realizes. Worn, nearly white, where something's made a space for itself. You wouldn't notice the difference, if you saw it every day, but with a jump of time between the last time he wore these jeans and now—it's obvious.

*

Of course it was longer than a year. Of course there were things Dean didn't tell him. Soulless, Sam thinks, trying the word out by himself, when Castiel's left and Sam's waiting for Dean to get back with the sword. Soulless. Not—a good thing to be. He's pretty sure.

Things that are described as soulless: corporations, governments. His comparative philosophy professor in junior year. Soulless due to lack of consideration, due to lacking character, due to—what? Indifference. Cruelty.

When they got to Portland, Dean picked the motel by turning into a random parking lot off the highway, and Sam hauled most of their bags in because he could tell Dean was tired after all the driving, and he'd barely made it through blinking at the one king bed before the door slammed behind Dean and Dean hauled him around by the jacket and gripped his shirt and said low and fervent, Sammy, if you don't want to you're gonna have to knock me out, and Sam dropped the bags right there in the entrance and got his hand on Dean's face and dragged his thumb soft over Dean's pretty lower lip and felt how Dean tensed, and then how the tension spilled out of him like water.

He doesn't get it. He walked around, he was told, without a soul, for a year. More than a year. Castiel was very precise about it. He'd left Dean with Lisa and found his grandfather, instead—his grandfather!—and he'd hunted. When they came to Dean it was by accident, Castiel said, and then when Dean had started hunting with Sam it had seemed to be for convenience, rather than something that meant—anything. Shifters, alphas. Vampires. Castiel knew all of it and told Sam earnestly, not judging. Sam had tried to kill Bobby but it was all right, Castiel said, because Dean had gotten so fearful and sick that he'd let himself die, to speak to Death, to make Sam right. He would have died, if Sam hadn't gotten right. It had been worth that. It had been that bad.

There's a text, from Dean. Sorta got the sword. Back in 8 hrs. Want any sourdough?

Sorta? Sam chews his lip. Just the dragon-killing magic weapon, thanks, he texts back, and Dean texts him a :) and Sam puts down his phone and stands up from the table and wants to vomit. Jesus christ. Soulless, he thinks, again, and pulls the amulet out of his pocket, winding the cord around his knuckles, staring at it.

He kept it. Somehow, some way. A year and more. From however he got spit out of the cage, from looking at Dean and choosing to turn away from him, to having Dean back and treating him like—he shudders. His indifferent callous body, carving an efficient line through the world. Sam wants to remember and doesn't. He does want to know what the exact moment was like, when he stuck his hand in his pocket standing on a street under a flickering lamp, watching Dean through a window like a damn pervert, and felt the amulet skin-warmed and heavy against his skin, and thought—what?

He puts it back in his pocket. Eight hours, until Dean gets back. Sam drags his hand over his mouth. When he shifts he can feel it—a little, nagging weight, pressed against his thigh. A year and a half of that with no reason to keep it. With all the reason in the fucking world to keep it. He blows out air until his chest is empty. Eight hours. He'd better have something to show for it. He gets to work.

*

He remembers, of course, later. Fractured, incomplete. Three selves' memories colliding and sleepless nights with a monster whispering in his ear. He curls on his side in a too-warm bed and watches Dean, curled beside him, sleeping. Frowning in his sleep. Lucifer says, though Sam ignores him, "Imagine how much easier he'd have had it at Lisa's, right? Bet she wore sweet little nightgowns, too. Where's yours, Sammy?"

In the cage he hadn't worn the amulet around his neck, not like he had in the year of Dean's absence. Lucifer didn't allow that. Sometimes he would crouch alone in the dark while Lucifer and Michael fought and he'd get space to breathe although breathing there always felt like the coldest depth of a North Dakota January. Shards of ice in his throat. The air thin. The air, of course, not real, but no matter how much Sam's conscious brain tries to rationalize when he has a moment to think, the cage isn't a place for rationality. Lucifer throttles him and Sam knows distantly that his lungs aren't real but he chokes anyway. He chokes. The air whittled thin in his throat and the edges of his vision vignetting to black, to sparkle-shot oxygenless, uncertain—

He turns his head, gasps deep. "Aw, thought I had you there," he hears, and turns fully onto his back, and they didn't bother undressing tonight before Dean crashed miserably into the mattress so he's still got his jeans on, and he shoves his hand into his pocket and wraps his hand around the amulet and squeezes so hard the horned heavy edges tear into his thin unhealed skin and the pain—god, the pain, piercing, cleansing.

It hurts. The room's quiet, except for the rattle of the heater under the window. Dean's breath, at his side. Not quite a snore. Sam's bleeding. He can feel the bandage getting wet. He curls his hand tighter and fumbles in the dark. A hitch—Dean's baby snore, interrupted—and Sam goes shh, as soft as he physically can, and Dean huffs and turns over and puts his face on Sam's shoulder, and Sam squeezes his hip through his jeans very gently, settling down. Lucifer will be back, he knows. When it's worst. When he thinks he's nearly fallen asleep. When Dean wakes up, in the pre-dawn because he has to piss, and he leans in first and kisses Sam's jaw, rough and sleepy with his breath rank, when Sam loves him just—the absolute most—Lucifer will ruin it. Even if Sam knows it isn't real it's as predictable as it is gutting.

He pulls his fist out of his pocket, amulet included. Dean won't wake for—what time is it?—hours. He turns his head toward Dean's, presses his lips against the warmth of his hair. He settles his fist on his chest. If the blood spills—well, it won't be the first time Sam's lost a shirt to blood.

*

Taking the amulet out of the trash wasn't a decision, when he did it. When animals are cornered their lashing out is survival, nothing else. He kept it because—he had to keep it. It wasn't possible that it be left where it was. An indifferent housekeeper dumping it into the mixed refuse of a half-dozen rooms; a trip to a dumpster, and then a dump, to be lost. No.

They had—

Sam knew it didn't matter in the face of what came later but he still felt it. That day. Vermont, autumn. The leaves dark red in the setting sun, or red just because they were. Immaterial, with Dean's back against the tree and his face tipped up to Sam's. Shocked. Sam's fingers on his jaw and then trailing down his throat, hooking into the cord of the amulet and pulling, down, to the demon-head, and Dean letting that tiny insignificant weight tip him forward so he met Sam's mouth when Sam offered it. The bodywarm of it against Sam's thumb when Dean's lips touched his, and how his hand closed into a fist on instinct, shocked too.

Whatever betrayals had come later. Whatever misunderstandings and miseries. There was still that day, and all the days before. This solid thing that had marked Dean as Sam's brother, for all the months and years marching all the way back to that stupid, shitty Christmas morning, five a.m. cold and disappointing, and Sam making the first decision that was really his own that he'd ever made. Handing over the shitty little packet of a gift he hadn't picked, and Dean looking at him with this—rare, uncertain happiness. Not willing to take it, in case it'd be snatched away like everything else had been.

Maybe that hadn't been a decision either, in retrospect. It was Sam's first day, in a hunted life that wasn't one he'd chosen, and maybe that was just instinct. Looping something around Dean's throat and saying, please. Dean had taken it. Said yes. Tossing it in the trash, later—well, Sam didn't blame him, but and he understood if the yes was retracted, but—Sam couldn't let it go. Even if he was the only one who remembered. Even if, ever after, even if they hurt each other and found each other again and circled each other like twin stars in an uncertain orbit—even if they met, in a dark room, and Dean said to him soft and sorry, Sammy, I swear, and Sam dragged Dean's body over the top of his and took the weight and feel of him like a payment, due—even then. He kept the damn thing, quiet, and his.

It didn't even register, after a while. It transferred from jeans to duffle to backpack to jacket. Part of the morning pat-check, unthinking unless something was missing: phone wallet amulet keys. Amelia never asked about it. Gadreel never interfered with it. When Dean was a demon Sam got up every morning in an empty bed and took a shower and carefully lifted his sling over his head and being ready for the day meant sling wallet keys amulet phone list of contacts he hadn't burned through yet and it just—felt like part of him. He thought about it as much as he thought about his lung.

On the day that Dean almost killed him Sam got dressed without thinking because there were more important things than thinking, and he put on jeans and he put on his boots and he put on shirt, shirt, jacket, and he dragged his hand through his hair instead of combing it, and he put in his pockets keys phone amulet wallet and he stood there, then, in the total quiet of the bunker, and took the amulet back out of his pocket. He looked at it in his palm. Small, heavy. The cord looping back over his knuckles. Dean had had to get new ones, he remembered. The leather ones kept wearing through, because Dean wore it every second: sleeping, waking, in the shower. When they were in bed, and Sam folded Dean in close against his chest, and Dean's lips brushed his jaw, and Sam slipped careful fingers under the cord, worrying at it. If only he'd known, then, the things he had to worry about.

He put the amulet back in his pocket. He went to Dean's room, in the bunker, and found the pictures Dean didn't keep very well hidden, and flicked past the ones of them together until he found the one of their mother. That, maybe. That would work. It wasn't fair, that day, to try to pretend anything else would, and as far as what mattered more to Sam—that was his problem, he thought, and nothing that needed to bother Dean. It was important, he thought, to be realistic.

*

"Give us a minute," Dean says.

"Dean," Sam says, appalled.

Chuck—Chuck? Jesus christ—jesus christ! Sam thinks. Chuck looks entertained, standing there in his sneakers—his Chucks! Jesus christ!—and his jeans and his simple short body and how he's—he's—

"Dude, seriously," Dean says, impatient, and Chuck raises his hands like surrender and says, "Hey, no, I get it! You've got stuff to talk about! Just say my name when you're ready, we've got all the time in the world, I'm sure my sister isn't planning the imminent destruction of all creation," and he winks, and then—disappears, jesus christ because Chuck is GOD—

"Sammy," Dean says, firm.

"Dean," Sam says back, immediately, "what are you doing—holy shit, do you realize—"

"Sam," Dean says, in a different tone, and Sam's gut jolts, hooked. Diverted.

The bunker, quiet around them. They're in the map room and the lights are all on full, bright and warm. Dean's looking at him and Sam—they've been good, it's been good, for months and months—the best it's ever been, even better than those first heady days when they were learning each other, young and reckless—and even with all that, Sam's nervous, somehow.

"How you doing, Sammy," Dean says, eyes narrow.

Sam lets out a sharp breath.

Dean seems surprised at the lack of answer and his chin tips up. He looks at Sam steadily. Sam doesn't know what he's supposed to say and so stays silent, and Dean keeps looking at him and then slides his hand into his pocket, and pulls out—of course.

He holds it low, in front of himself, dangling from two fingers. The heavy pendulum sway. Dean's eyes are low, fixed on it, but Sam's watching Dean's face.

There are obvious things to say that Dean doesn't say and Sam's grateful for it. "You took the other one," is what Dean says, and he doesn't look up to see Sam frown confusion but he must sense it, somehow, because he continues: "From that—jesus, Sam. From that play, that the girls put on. When I came out to the car the next morning it was gone. Doesn't seem fair. You got the prop and the real thing, both."

"Sorry," Sam says, and Dean says, "Christ," and takes the three long steps across the room to where Sam's got his back to a pillar and kisses him. Sam takes it, breathing in. Not soft, not that giving sweet that Dean can be, but it's Dean's mouth and therefore it's a miracle, every time.

Dean pulls back. His brow rolls against Sam's, brief, and then he sets down from where he lifted up on his toes, and he looks at Sam from six inches, their hips pressed together. The amulet swings against Sam's stomach, from where Dean's hands are fisted on his sternum.

"Sammy," Dean says, and Sam takes a deep breath and says, "I didn't mean to keep it—secret."

It's a lie and a bad one. He doesn't know why he said it that way but he doesn't know a truer one. He didn't—make a decision about it. It was just that…

Dean doesn't call him on it. "You said," he starts, and then his cheek sucks in on one side. Sam notices for the first time how tired his eyes are. It was a long day. The fog and the people they couldn't save. He folds one hand over one of Dean's, pressed against his chest, and Dean's eyes dip, and maybe that makes it easy enough because Dean says, "Sam, I wouldn't choose her."

Sam takes a deep breath. Their hands rise, all knotted together. Dean says, "It kills me, Sammy. That you think I'd—but I wouldn't. If it were any choice, if I could—make it how I wanted it to be. I wouldn't, not fuckin' once," and Sam says, "I know," just to stop Dean from talking, with his voice thickening up that way.

God's somewhere, waiting in the wings. Sam doesn't give a shit, anymore. Dean's mouth turns up at one corner but it's not happy, and Sam slides his free hand up Dean's side, gripping through his jacket, trying. However he knows how to try. "I know," he says, again, because—christ, he does. That nasty awful fog doesn't get to take this from him. "Dean, I told you before. Whatever she makes you—think, or do. I got it. I can handle it."

Dean bites his lips between his teeth and he looks down. His thumb catches the swinging cord of the amulet. "You know," Dean says, echoing. A question, buried down in it.

He hasn’t said it, specifically, out loud or internally or even when he prayed, back when he thought that praying was something that mattered, but: Sam hates Amara. Hates every aspect of her, baby to adult to imagined vision to physical manifestation to the haunted look, in Dean's eye, when he thinks Sam isn't looking. Hates how she makes Dean doubt. Hates how she makes Dean afraid. Hates every fragment of her that draws Dean's attention away, makes him look into the shadows of the room, makes him weak and afraid of his own weakness. In their bed at night Dean lays awake and Sam is awake with him and he thinks—how can he prove it? How can he show Dean how much he wants to take this burden away—to make it so the darkness is nothing that could come between them?

"Sam," Dean says. "You're…"

Nothing goes there. What could? Sam slides his hand from Dean's side up to the back of Dean's neck, cupping his skull, holding. He ducks his head. His temple against Dean's temple, Dean's breath against his throat. He closes his eyes and reaches and finds the amulet, dangling, on his first try. Luck. He gathers it into his palm and knocks Dean's fist open and closes their hands together, fisted around the sharp little weight of it. Any other day Dean would make a crack about holding hands.

Sam says, "I kept it because I wanted you. It wasn't your fault that things went bad. Or, I don't know. Half yours and half mine. Or maybe it was destiny's fault—fate, or something. It doesn't matter. What mattered was—how you stuck with me. How we—figured it out, every time. No matter how crappy it got, or how much we didn't trust each other, or… Because it's us, right? Every time. It's us, no matter what. I knew that on days I didn't know anything else. Nothing's going to take that away. Not the Darkness. Not God."

True. Dean's temple tips, against his. Their stubble drags together. "Not even the big guy, huh?" he says. Frail. "Seem pretty sure of yourself, there."

"I am," Sam says, not joking, and hears the breath Dean takes in. He squeezes their hands together, squeezes the back of Dean's neck.

"Shit," Dean says, and lets out a fraction of a laugh. "I wish I..."

He shakes his head, tipping away from Sam. Sam looks at his profile. The sweep of his eyelashes. His nose, with the little broken tilt. His jaw, squared. Sam bites the inside of his cheek and then lets go of Dean's neck, and folds their hands together all in a square—Dean's hand over Sam's over Dean's over Sam's—and when he unfolds them the amulet's caught in Dean's palm, and Sam folds his fingers over Dean's fist and pushes it, down, tucking it neat into Dean's jacket pocket. Dean blinks at him.

"I don't need a reminder," Sam says. Echo of something that feels like forever ago, surprisingly—now—true. "I'll be right here. No matter what. I swear."

He lets go of Dean's fist and slides up his arm, holding his shoulder instead. Dean looks back and forth between his eyes. "Thank you, Sam," he says, serious.

Sam nods. Dean looks up into his eyes, and then at his mouth, and when he leans for the kiss Sam responds simply, holding him and trying to say—everything there is to say. There could never be enough time, to say all there is to say.

Dean pulls back, after a few seconds. Not nearly enough. Their noses brush together and Dean's hands are on his chest, heavy. The amulet in his pocket. Where it belongs, Sam thinks, but it doesn't—matter, the same way it did before. It's not tying Dean to him; it's not a relic of a promise, broken and then kept. He touches Dean's jaw, with his thumb, and Dean sighs against him.

"Guess we should call him back," Dean says. "You think he knows we totally made out just now?"

Sam groans, and pushes Dean away, and catches him smiling. "You're totally going to hell," he says, and Dean winks at him, and turns away, and calls out, "Yo, Chuck!" like he's calling the literal creator for a dinner of hot wings, and Sam would despair but Dean's hand is in his pocket, and—well, they're okay, so. It's okay.

[gallickingun]

can you give me your top 10 fics you’ve read for bnha on tumblr?

omg this was tough, but i think i’ve narrowed it down. these aren’t in number order btw, just in order of me remembering them off the top of my head! 

also just a reminder that my fic rec tag is: /morgan-says-read-it !

reckless by @cutesuki--bakugou : this this this holy cow. it’s all about dragon king!bakugou going into a rut and reader being sick and tired of not being the woman who he uses to get himself through it. there are feelings, of course, and a lot of breeding talk! it’s seriously so good, i was rooting for them the whole time, just begging bakugou to admit his feelings!! 

dragon dick kiri by @makoodles : the whole series is just a godsend. kirishima has an odd shaped dick, the rest is history. i LOVE the characterization of kiri in this series, and then mak brought bakugou in, and she kept him like true to character but also really entertaining. fun fact: this was the first threesome fic i read! i believe this is 3 parts right now, and each part is a gem. 

catch and release by @1-800-callmekatsuki : god. cece just fucking blows me away EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. her smut is unparalleled. i seriously want to be her when i grow up, i aspire to be as good of a writer as she is. and this one shot just further proves it! bakugou as a god, reader as a lowly mortal. he’s been waiting her whole life just to snap her up for his own. i adore mythology, and this wraps up mythology and a little yandere with a whole lotta smut. i heard there may be a part two 👀

red roses by @shoutogepi : if you like a lil bit of fuckboy kirishima who owns a flowershop, here’s ya juice! it’s so good. rosie really captures kirishima’s fuckable lovable personality really well, and the smut is just 👌 she amazes me with her talent, and i really use her stuff to push myself to write better smut lol. 

cratus by @bratwritings : heroes rising spoilers but this fic is so good. bakugou’s ofa abilities come out in some promiscuous ways, and reader just wants to help him work through whatever is causing his intense frustration. the smut is great, the feelings are really well displayed. i was enraptured the whole time! nat did a really amazing job with this!! 

seven minutes by @lookslikeleese : dude. dude. duuuuude. this is so good! it’s about reader getting stuck playing seven minutes in heaven with bakugou AND todoroki. and it plays up virgin!bakugou, which is wonderful lol, a headcanon i share with leese (and others, i’m sure). and todoroki was spot on in this as well. it was just so much fun! and i know there’s a pt 2 out, but i haven’t had time to read it yet! i know what i’m doing this weekend 👀

live show series by @lady-bakuhoe : somehow i got wrangled into this and i couldn’t stop! i love bakugou in this, he’s a good mix of hilarious, sexy, and emotional. bakugou is a camboy and reader is one of his viewers, and the rest is history! the plot is great, the smut is great, it’s all just good shit. there’s four parts up now, and i think there’s gonna be a fifth eventually!!

midnight whispers by @cutesuki--bakugou : god, this fic played with my heart. ripped it out, tore it open, sewed it back together, and shoved it back in my chest. my face was leaking, my heart was pounding. god. bakugou x koge (one of sarah’s beautiful ocs!) get into a fight, which leads to bakugou sleeping on the couch and koge coming to reconcile things. it’s just so true to how marital life is, there are hard times, but you work through it. so beautifully done. i can’t scream enough about sarah’s talent or her original characters.

a show of dominance by @ikinabi : holy shit. sub bakugou? sub bakugou. i’d been wanting to write sub!bakugou for some time but couldn’t really muster up the courage to do it, so i’m glad i found this fic lol. reader bites the hell out of bakugou’s shoulder and it turns him into the subbiest little brat. i loved it. red did a wonderful job of keeping bakugou’s snark and attitude while also making him a blubbering baby back bitch. every word of this is golden.

needy by @shoutogepi : another sub fic because the world doesn’t have enough sub!male fics. but sub!todoroki?? holy cow, that one hits different. i imagine him all “say yes sir” and “don’t make me bend you over my knee” but like.......... woof. todoroki gets hit by a quirk at work and then begs reader for her strap. what else could you want? rosie, again, is one of the most beautiful smut writers i’ve ever had the pleasure of befriending. and i hope that i can grow to be as good as she is. 

omg i could keep going forever. i didn’t even realize i had hit 10!!! honestly this list will probably change because i’m trying to work my way around to reading more, but for now, these are the 10 that are most memorable for me! thank you for the ask, and make sure to check out these writer’s masterlists!!! 💕

[madsthewordclown]

Fire Lily | Pt. 9

warnings: violence, angst, mentions of r*pe. seriously y'all, this chapter gets kind of heavy. take care of yourselves. 

a/n: this chapter is very long because wow. Crossroads of Destiny. It’s over 5k, so you’ll have to bear with me and power through. 

Also, yes. I am posting this at midnight in my time zone. Yes, my hair is looking some type of way, and yes, I'm wearing Christmas pants. All of this is irrelevant but I want you to know my vibes for whatever reason. And just so you know, my taglist is open!

Enjoy! 

Fire Lily Masterlist

“Let him go!” Y/N almost never yelled—it hurt her throat.

“Y/N,” Bihun looked into her eyes, calm overtaking his voice, “go back inside.” The Fire Nation soldiers had hold of his arms.

“But you didn’t do anything.” Y/N’s chest heaved, and she looked at the soldiers. All she felt was rage.

Bihun didn’t steal. She knew he didn’t. He was careful, collected, thought things through. They were arresting him because he was from the Earth Kingdom, and he was there. Bihun’s heel left an indent in the dirt as the soldiers starting to drag him away.

They were just trying to go home. Their front door was only a few feet away, but the soldiers had followed them.

“Let him go!” Y/N repeated, eyes on the soldiers. She could feel it—the fire. But she didn’t stop it. She wasn’t Bihun. She wasn’t careful.

“Y/N,” Bihun pleaded. The soldiers were still pulling him away. “I need you to calm down. Breathe.”

“No!”

“Y/N, we need to go,” Lee urged, already on his way out the door.

They were serving tea at the palace today, she remembered. She had her apron, and her pack on her back. She didn’t need it, but it was nice to have. She didn’t like leaving home without a weapon, especially after that night. Jet’s hook swords were secured inside. It had nearly burned to touch them, but her knife was long gone. And he told her to protect herself.

---

The palace was greater than Y/N could have ever imagined. It was so big—bigger than her entire home village, she guessed. She couldn’t imagine having to walk up the stairs, though. She was greater for their earthbender escorts, pulling them up the incline on a stone slab.

Mushi hadn’t been able to stop smiling. Y/N wasn’t sure that she should go to the palace. She felt like a traitor even now, staring at it. A firebender in the Earth King’s palace was unthinkable. But Mushi had been so excited, and insisted she come along.

“You’ve played a great part in my success, Y/N,” he had said. “It is only fair that you get to witness the results.”

Y/N carried the tray with the best tea set that they had. She had been careful in arranging the cups in neat rows and tried to keep it as level as possible on the journey. Luckily, the way up to the palace was smoother than she had imagined. These benders were precise, and they had so much control. Y/N was envious. Mushi hadn’t mentioned the burns on the table, but he and Lee had come home with a new one the day before. She wasn’t sure what they did with the other one.

“Many times, I imagined myself here, at the threshold of the palace,” Mushi mused, leaning in to whisper something in Lee’s ear. Y/N only caught his final statement. “Destiny is a funny thing.”

“It sure is,” Lee agreed, reaching and lightly touching Y/N’s elbow.

Destiny was a funny thing, Y/N thought. She was destined to be a disaster, and she knew it. But here she was, at the palace, with someone who knew the truth and hadn’t run away. Someone who would keep her secret safe.

An Earth Kingdom guard let them in the ginormous palace doors. Y/N had to appreciate the décor. Everything looked green, but still somehow managed to look royal. Y/N had to crane her head to see the ceiling, it was so high up.

They ended up sitting on the carpet at a small tea table in another room, waiting. The throne sat empty. Y/N wasn’t sure how long they’d been waiting, and despite his newfound cheery attitude, Y/N could tell Lee was getting impatient.

“What’s taking so long?” Lee asked out loud. She wasn’t sure if she was meant to answer.

“Maybe the Earth King overslept?” Y/N suggested in an attempt to put him at ease. His hand was gripping the table tightly—she put hers over it.

Finally, the door opened. Y/N felt her heart stop as Dai Li agents filed in, one after the other until they had the table surrounded. Y/N grew cold.

“Something’s not right,” Lee grumbled, eyes downcast. Y/N almost wanted to shout. Obviously. But any words she could have said would get stuck in her throat as she felt her nerves go haywire. She was ready to jump and run. Her fingers tapped random, quick rhythms on the back of Lee’s hand.

The Dai Li agents said nothing as the final member of their crew walked in. Y/N realized with shock that it was a girl, who couldn’t have been much older than her. She had her black hair pulled up with two perfect strands falling to frame her face. She seemed to have foregone the usual Dai Li headwear for a green hairpiece. Y/N saw something familiar in her face.

“It’s teatime,” she cooed, sounding amused.

“Azula!” Lee shot up like a fire rocket. Y/N turned to look up at him. It was clear he recognized her. How did he know this girl?

“Have you met the Dai Li?” The girl, whom Y/N assumed to be called Azula, mused. Y/N’s hands felt clammy. She was tapping on the table now, since Lee had stood and pulled his hand away.

“They’re earthbenders,” Azula continued with a sharp grin, “but they have a killer instinct that’s so firebender. I just love it.” Y/N’s hand stilled as Azula’s gaze finally landed on her. It seemed to be the first time she noticed that Y/N was there.

“I wasn’t expecting you to bring a girlfriend, Zuzu,” Azula smiled, eyeing Lee.

“Who’s Zuzu?” Y/N hated how small her voice sounded.

“Oh, Zuzu,” Azula sighed, giving a mocking frown. “You haven’t told her your little secret?”

Y/N looked to Lee. He didn’t look at her—he kept his golden eyes trained on Azula. She hadn’t seen him this angry before. Not even in the fight with Jet. What was he hiding from her, and what did this girl have to do with it? And why was her face so familiar?

“Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter. It’ll be easy to take care of the spare.”

“Did I ever tell you how I got the nickname, ‘The Dragon of the West’?” Mushi asked suddenly. Y/N realized he was pouring a cup of tea. She almost wanted to laugh. How much did tea really matter right now? This girl had just called her a spare, and Y/N didn’t like the knot in her stomach that grew tighter at every moment.

Y/N slipped a hand under the strap of her pack slowly, ready to swing it off of her shoulder. She thanks Spirits that she’d thought to bring her hook swords, but she had a sinking feeling that they wouldn’t be any help in whatever fight was coming her way.

“I’m not interested in a lengthy antidote, Uncle,” Azula brushed him off. Uncle.

“It’s more of a demonstration, really,” Mushi smirked, lifting a cup of tea to his lips. Uncle. Did that mean…

Before Y/N could even identify the million thoughts she felt stampeding through her brain, Lee was smiling and pulling her off the ground to stand behind Mushi.

“Lee, what’s—” Y/N started, but then the world lit up.

Fire was spraying towards the Dai Li agents, and for a split second, Y/N thought it was her. Maybe she’d lost control again without even noticing. But she blinked again, and no, there were no flames spewing from her hands.

Mushi was breathing fire. Actual fire, extending outward like a fan. The Dai Li soldiers recoiled. Lee had a tight grip on Y/N’s arm as Mushi turned in a circle, and Lee started pulling Y/N toward the back wall under Mushi’s cover. Lee lifted his arm, sending a blast of fire through the wall.

Y/N’s world shattered when she watched the light leap from his hands. Everything was a lie. The whole new life she had built in Ba Sing Se was a lie. Lee and Mushi probably weren’t their real names, and she was the fool who had relied on them. She had helped them, lived under the same roof. Suddenly, Lee’s acceptance of her secret made a lot more sense.

Y/N was under the lake all over again. Head pounding, legs feeling weak. But she let Lee pull her out through the gaping hole in the wall and kept her feet moving, because she couldn’t just stop. Stopping would mean she’d be the spare, left to Azula’s predetermined fate for her.

Stopping would mean that she’d never go home. She knew she was kidding herself—there was no chance of that. But if she could make it through today, through tomorrow, then maybe one day she’d send her father a letter. Maybe she could apologize.

She was under the lake again, Lee showing her what to do and where to go. He was still wearing a mask. While it didn’t have horns or fangs, Y/N knew what it was. Or maybe the mask was finally off.

Mushi ran ahead of them, blasting a hole through the wall leading to the outside. Stone was pummeling into the walls and floor, just barely missing them as the Dai Li gained ground. Y/N pulled the hook swords out of her pack. She could make it. Jet taught her to protect herself.

Y/N watched Mushi leap out of the hole in the wall, into the sunlight, an animal-shaped hedge breaking his fall. Y/N guessed they were about a story up—not too terrible, but she couldn’t say she was stoked about the idea.

“Come on!” Mushi called from his spot on the ground. “You’ll be fine!” Lee didn’t move as Y/N leaned down to stab the end of her hook sword into the wall. She could use it to swing herself closer to the next hedge to break the fall.

“No!” Lee yelled back. “I’m tired of running! It’s time I faced Azula.” Lee looked at her for what felt like the first time in forever. “Go,” he mouthed, before turning to face Azula and the agents who now far too close.

Y/N caught Mushi smacking himself in the head in exasperation before he turned and began to run, motioning for her to follow. Y/N cautiously slung one leg over the edge.

“You’re so dramatic,” Azula drawled. “What? Are you going to challenge me to an Agni Kai?”

The Fire Nation soldiers in her hometown had talked about Agni Kai. Something about honor. Y/N’s father said there was no honor in fighting your own.

“Yes! I challenge you!” Lee replied brashly, squaring his shoulders towards the girl.

Y/N quickened her pace, easing herself out the ledge, hoping to slip out unnoticed. She tested her hook sword’s hold as she finally dropped her lower half off of the ledge, digging the other sword into the wooden floor to be safe.

“No thanks,” Y/N heard Azula say. She doesn’t dare look as she heard the sound of stone heading in Lee’s direction.

“Oh,” Y/N heard Azula add, almost as an afterthought. “Get that girl that’s right outside. I think I might want her to stay.”

Y/N didn’t have time to let go of her swords before the Dai Li had stone hands around her arms, lifting her back inside. She managed to yank her swords out of the stone and wood, keeping a firm grip on them as the Dai Li brought her away, just like before. They didn’t bother to confiscate her weapons. She knew when she’d lost.

She didn’t look at Lee as he was dragged along beside her. She could feel his gaze burning a hole in the back of her head. Y/N didn’t care. She hoped he burned.

---

Azula couldn’t even be bothered to imprison them separately. Echoes of Y/N’s head injury resurfaced when the Dai Li sent them tumbling down into the crystal catacombs under the palace. The landing had been rough. To Y/N’s surprise, they had company. Katara sat dejectedly on the ground and jumped up as Y/N and Lee landed.

“Zuko!” Katara squinted a him accusingly.

“Is that your name?” Y/N said, fighting back tears as she got her bearings. Her hands were warming up. She willed them to stop, tightening her grip on the sword handles.

“What?” Lee asked, bewildered.

“Is that your name?” Y/N repeated, slower. “I’d think that after everything you’d at least owe me that.”

Lee looked hurt, but he answered. “Yes.”

“Zuko,” Y/N whispered to herself. She wouldn’t burn a handprint into the sword handles. She wouldn’t.

She knew that name. Zuko. Whispers of it floated around in the colonies. Banished, they’d say. The Fire Lord’s only son.

“Why did they throw you in here?” Katara asked Zuko. “Let me guess, it’s a trap. So that way when Aang comes to help me you can finally have him in your Fire Nation clutches.”

Katara continued to rant while Zuko tried to ignore her. “You’re a terrible person, you know that? Always following us, hunting the Avatar! Trying to capture the world’s last hope for peace! But what do you care? You’re the Fire Lord’s son. Spreading war and violence and hatred is in your blood. And now you’ve somehow dragged Y/N into your mess. She doesn’t deserve that.”

Y/N slowly moved to Katara’s side and was grateful when the girl didn’t back away.

“Are you okay?” Katara whispered, taking a break from the ranting for a moment. Y/N managed a light nod. She was not okay, not by a long shot, but she was at least in one piece.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Zuko replied, not getting up from where he was sitting on the ground.

“I don’t?!?” Katara yelled back. “The Fire Nation took my mother from me!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” Zuko whispered, getting up to move closer. Y/N lifted her swords protectively. She didn’t know Katara well, but they did have a common enemy, it seemed. “That’s something we have in common.”

Y/N paused. She didn’t know that.  She supposed she didn’t know anything. She could tell Katara was crying, and she allowed Zuko to move a little closer as she pulled the other girl into a hug.

“Thank you,” Katara mumbled into Y/N’s ear. “And I’m sorry I couldn’t save him.”

Y/N pulled away as Katara wiped the tears from her face. She finally turned to face Zuko and look him in the eye for the first time knowing his real name. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was,” Lee—no, Zuko—insisted. “I was going to tell you when I figured out how. I,” he shuffled a hand through his hair. “I thought you’d be happy when you found out.”

“What?”

Katara looked equally as confused as Y/N felt. She and this girl were practically strangers, but she had shown her kindness before. Y/N was tired of lying, but she needed answers.

“I mean, maybe not about the prince thing, but,” Zuko took a step toward her. Y/N held up the swords. “That you’re not alone. We’re the same.”

“I am nothing like you,” Y/N seethed, stepping toward him. Zuko managed to be smart enough to back off. “Never suggest that again.”

“But,” Zuko held up his hands in surrender, “we’re from the same nation. We both left, started a new life.”

“I am not from your nation. The Fire Nation has done nothing but take from me, from my family. From my nation.” How dare he suggest that she was like him? She wasn’t Fire Nation. She wasn’t a colonizer, a tyrant, a murderer…

“What do you mean?” Zuko asked, looking legitimately confused.

Y/N couldn’t hold back a hollow laugh. “You know what the Fire Nation gave me? A curse. Thanks to them I can’t even be accepted by my own people. If someone sees what I can do… ” Y/N’s eyes squeezed shut and she shook her head. “My parents are both Earth Kingdom. Did you know that?”

“But…”

“They’re both Earth Kingdom. The people who raised me, at least. My mother is my mother. But my father…” Y/N laughed again, and Zuko looked a little scared. He should have, she thought. “The Fire Nation invaded my village when my brother was a baby. Expanding the colony into our land. Soldiers broke into our house. My father, my real father, was gone, here, on business with the King.

“They found my mother. My older brother was asleep in his crib.” Y/N let the tears fall from her face. She didn’t care anymore. She would make it out of here, but Zuko would never see her again. She was sure of that. “I was born nine months later. Looked just like my mother. Wasn’t until later that they found out what I was.”

“No—” Zuko started, but Y/N lifted a sword to silence him. She felt Katara’s hand on her shoulder.

“And I thought it was a cool trick, at the time. I didn’t know. I was so excited to show my father what I had learned.” Y/N finally lowered her swords and the world swayed. She slowly sunk down to the floor. “I lit a candle, just with my hand. I thought it was so cool.

“My father turned down a council spot here in the city, you know. Because he was afraid that someone would find out.” Y/N sniffed, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. It was gross, but she didn’t care. “He should’ve taken it and left me there for the soldiers to find.”

Zuko didn’t respond. He slunk down to the ground a few feet away, his face downturned so his hair hung in front of his eyes. Y/N tried to slow her shaky breathing.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t know,” Zuko said after a long moment of silence.

“I thought I’d built something here, Zuko. Something with Lee. I could’ve been happy, you know. A tea shop in the city was more than enough for me.” Y/N leaned in to Katara, who had sat down next to her. She had expected Katara to leave her be, now that she knew the truth. But she was here, at least for the moment. Y/N felt like she understood. The Fire Nation had taken something irreplaceable from each of them.

The three of them sat in silence for a moment, and Y/N’s nerves finally calmed. The knot in her stomach began to untwist, and the dread of their situation was taking its time sinking in. If they got out, they’d have to fight their way there. And the Dai Li were good fighters. Y/N had a feeling that Azula was better.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you before,” Katara said, finally breaking the silence. Y/N didn’t say anything, but she met Zuko’s gaze. She couldn’t help but feel a little ashamed. He had lied to her, yes, but she had lied to him to. She supposed it was far from unreasonable for him to assume she was from the Fire Nation. It didn’t make everything right, but it did make her feel a bit better.

“It doesn’t matter.” Zuko shook his head. He was right.

“It’s just that for so long now, whenever I would imagine the face of the enemy, it was your face.”

“My face?” Zuko’s hand lightly traced the outline of his scar. “I see.”

Y/N still felt sick looking at it. Not because of how it looked, or anything. But because for the past few weeks, she’d look at it and see herself. She could do that to someone if she lost control. Someone like her had done that to him. She knew she wouldn’t be that person. She tried to shake the thought that Zuko could be that person.

“No, no, that’s,” Katara stood, moving closer to where Zuko was now standing. “That’s not what I meant.”

“It’s okay. I used to think my scar marked me. As a banished prince, cursed to chase the Avatar.” Zuko looked Y/N in the eye. “But I’ve realized that I can choose my own destiny, even if I’m never free of the mark.”

Y/N’s heart swelled a bit. She had told him that the tea shop was enough, and maybe one day she’d be able to forgive him. He could choose that destiny.

“What if…” Katara looked down at a small vial that hung on a string around her neck. Y/N hadn’t noticed it before, but the vial was ornate. Not Earth Kingdom crafted. “…you could be free of it?”

“What?” Y/N stood, moving over to join them. Zuko seemed surprised that she was willing to get so close to him. She surprised herself. She could feel the heat radiating from him as she stood by his side. She supposed that that part about him made a lot more sense now.

“I have healing abilities,” Katara explained. Y/N vaguely remembered Katara’s hands on Jet’s chest from that blurry night.

“Did you use them on me?” Y/N couldn’t help but ask. Mushi—or, whatever his name really was—had said that she had recovered remarkably quickly.

“Yeah, you hit your head pretty bad. I hope you rested up. You kept mumbling about a tea shop, so we dropped you off there,” Katara confirmed. Zuko shot Y/N a look that she couldn’t quite read, but his eyes were sympathetic.

“It’s a scar, it can’t be healed,” Zuko argued.

“I have water from the Spirit Oasis at the North Pole. It has special properties, so I’ve been saving it for something important,” Katara elaborated, holding up the vial. “I don’t know if it would work, but…”

Katara gingerly lifted a hand to touch Zuko’s scar. Zuko’s eyes fluttered shut and there was an unpleasant tenseness to his face. Almost like he was reliving a memory, Y/N thought.

Suddenly, the wall behind them broke, sending shards of crystal flying. Y/N raised her swords.

“Aang!” Katara cried, rushing to wrap Aang in a tight hug. Y/N remembered him, from the lake. There was something important about him that she couldn’t remember that night…

“You’re the Avatar,” Y/N stated dumbly, staring with an open mouth. Of course he was. He had airbender tattoos. The Avatar was an airbender.

Suddenly, Mushi came rushing in, wrapping both Y/N and Zuko in a tight hug. Y/N wasn’t sure how to feel about it. She heard Zuko grumble a complaint under his breath. It was almost like old times.

“Aang, I knew you’d come!” Katara cried jubilantly, wrapping Aang in yet another hug. Y/N noticed that Aang seemed quite pleased as Mushi-whatever-his-name-was let her go.

“Uncle, what are you doing with the Avatar?” Zuko’s voiced sounded grated and irritated.

“Saving you, that’s what,” Aang replied snarkily. Y/N giggled a little but bit it back when Zuko took an aggressive step forward.

“Zuko,” Not-Mushi said, “it’s time we talked.” He turned to Y/N, Katara, and Aang. “Go, find your friends. Y/N, go with them. We’ll catch up.”

As angry as she was, as absolutely furious as she was, Y/N didn’t want to leave them. She wished they could stay, go back to the Jasmine Dragon and pretend this all never happened. But that couldn’t happen, and Not-Mushi and Aang seemed to have somewhat of a plan, so that was good enough for her.

Y/N followed Katara and Aang out of the tunnel that Aang had created in the wall, catching one last glance back at Zuko. He didn’t meet her eyes; he was already immersed in a conversation with his uncle.

The way through the tunnel was short, and Y/N was grateful. The tunnel felt like the halls under the lake. The whole palace did. Y/N did not like the Earth King’s palace, she decided, bad experiences notwithstanding.

They came to a large open room, with stone walls and what looked like doorways and windows carved into them. It was like a tiny piece of an underground city, Y/N realized. She had heard that earthbenders once carved cities into the earth, but it was another thing to see it. It would’ve been beautiful if they weren’t under constant threat of attack.

Y/N didn’t think that fire had a sound. Crackling logs had a sound, and water on coals had a sound. But suddenly there was a fire burning behind them that was so fast and so powerful that Y/N could hear it. Aang quickly turned, lifting stone from the ground to block the flames.

When the smoke cleared, Y/N recognized Azula, standing with one arm extended, poised after the strike. Katara ran out from the behind the cover of stone, drawing water from the canal running through the center of the giant space. Y/N had never seen such a powerful waterbender before. She hadn’t seen any waterbender before.

Katara swept the water up and brought it down on Azula, hard. Azula countered with a flash of blue flame, and the water turned to steam with a hiss. Y/N decided that waterbenders, or at least Katara, were scary.

Y/N watched Azula emerge from the cloud of dust and steam, almost floating through the air. Azula launched blue fire and where Katara was standing. Aang rushed out to help Katara bend more water from the canal.

Y/N didn’t let up her grip on her hook swords despite knowing they were no help here. Azula was no joke. Azula was in it to win, and Y/N knew what winning would mean for them.

Azula landed on the ground lightly, arms poised to strike as she faced down Aang and Katara. Y/N slowly emerged, swords in hand. She wouldn’t cower.

Azula was outnumbered three to one. Well, two to one, Y/N supposed, since her hook swords could be burned to bits at any moment. The odds weren’t good for her here. Not a lot of environmental features for her to use. Jet had taught her about that. If she didn’t bend, she’d be at an automatic disadvantage. The lack of useful surroundings made it worse.

Y/N caught movement out of the corner of her eye and turned to see Zuko, a look of determination set in his face. But he wasn’t looking at her. Zuko punched forward, flames sprouting from the movement. Y/N waited to Azula to react, but she never did.

Aang barely missed getting burnt. Zuko had aimed for him.

“Zuko!” Y/N yelled desperately. He surely hadn’t meant to. Surely, he had changed, and something Not-Mushi said had gotten to him. But Zuko reared up to fire again, his aggressive expression turned toward the Avatar.

“Go find Sokka and Toph, Y/N,” Katara yelled at her. Katara’s face looked panicked. Y/N felt the reality sink in further. This was very, very bad. Y/N nodded and sprinted away, feeling the heat from Zuko’s next strike at the Avatar hit her back.

Y/N went through the nearest tunnel, turning on passageways that began to look less like tunnels and more like hallways as she went. She kept a hand along the wall as she went—rough stone turned smooth, and then eventually, she found herself in the halls of the palace. She willed herself to keep going. Find Sokka. Find Toph. Even though she wasn’t sure exactly who they were, she figured she could figure it out.

Y/N finally came across other people when she reached the throne room. A girl with black hair in matching buns atop her head sat on the steps looking bored, and another girl was in a rather uncomfortable backbend, her hands and feet bound to the floor by earth. Over them stood a boy in blue and a small Earth Kingdom girl, along with a bespectacled man in a rather fancy robe and a… bear, Y/N realized, wearing a shirt. Not a platypus bear. Just… a bear.

Y/N brushed off the strangeness of the moment.

“Y/N?” The boy—Sokka, Y/N realized—blurted. “What are you doing here?”

“Where’s your bison?” Y/N managed to get out, huffing. Sokka and Toph’s faces fell. Everything was wrong. “We have to leave.”

Sokka and Toph led the way. The palace felt unusually quiet. It gave Y/N a bad feeling, knowing what could have been happening in the catacombs. Katara and Aang were outnumbered, surely. Azula had the Dai Li.

They wandered through the halls and out of the palace. Y/N thought it wasn’t the best time to be asking questions about the bear, but she noticed that Toph wasn’t wearing shoes.

“Don’t your feet hurt?” Y/N asked. Maybe it would lighten the mood, if only for a moment.

“I’m blind,” Toph said simply, as if that explained it. Y/N didn’t ask any more questions as they continued along.

Finally, Y/N saw the bison. Appa, if she remembered right. She almost wanted to cry. She wanted out of this city, if they’d take her. She could leave Ba Sing Se behind, along with all of the unpleasant memories. Sokka gave her and the other man a hand.

“Thank you, young man,” the man said.

“You’re welcome, your Majesty.”

“Wait, you’re King Kuei?” Y/N asked incredulously. “Your Majesty, I’m—”

“There they are!” Sokka shouted suddenly, pointing back toward the palace. Katara rose on a twisting beam of water. Aang was in her arms. He wasn’t moving.

“Appa, yip yip!” Sokka commanded, bringing the bison in closer. Katara let the water fall away as she landed on Appa’s head, laying Aang down softly in front of her.

Y/N watched as Dai Li agents began emerging from the palace. “Guys…”

“I can’t see to hit them,” Toph said. Sokka lifted a boomerang, but that wouldn’t be enough, Y/N knew. And Katara was…

Y/N looked over. Katara was leaning over Aang, tears in her eyes. Katara was busy.

Y/N took a breath. She thought for a moment, of Zuko, and her parents, her brother. She let the feeling build. The anger, towards Zuko for lying, towards Azula. The rocks were already flying their way. Toph didn’t know, and Sokka’s face was riddled with worry. King Kuei leaned into the bear’s fur.

Y/N let herself lose control. Only for a moment. But it was enough. The fire was bright and strong and accurate enough, hot enough to break the flying rocks apart. And oddly enough, she didn’t feel like she was freefalling. She didn’t feel like she was observing an explosion.

But she still felt relieved when Sokka and Toph decided not to mention it for now. Katara lifted the vial of Oasis water, the liquid shining in the dark.

They were going to take her brother away, and she wouldn’t let that happen. She let go. She showed them what she was capable of.

But they had taken him anyway. They’d sent more soldiers to the house, looking for the general’s ‘stolen daughter.’ Bihun was off in a prison somewhere, and they were coming for her next. For her parents.

The servants had seen. Their loyal, Earth Kingdom servants whom they’d been so careful around. They had run off almost immediately, and word would spread. Her own nation would be looking for her. The Fire Nation girl who posed as one of them for years, and her traitorous family.

Y/N went into their library. It was her favorite room in the house. It was small, but cozy. She had read most of the books there. But they were easy. Flammable.

When the Fire Nation or Earth Kingdom soldiers arrived, whichever came first, they’d find that burned library. They’d see her parents and know that the girl who did that couldn’t have been any daughter of theirs, destroying the most valuable room in their home. Stealing the cup that sat on the mantle.

Maybe it would buy them time, at least. They were smart. They could run with a story. Say that she must’ve been a spy, or that they never knew she was a firebender until that day. They thought she was theirs.

She left on foot, her pack slung over her shoulders, its only contents being the cup and the purse full of coins she had found in her father’s study. No real plan, but the Earth Kingdom was big. And Ba Sing Se was a big, populous city. It would be easy to hide there. She could disappear there.

She had thought about leaving a note for her parents. They’d been home, but she had locked them out of the library and left through the window. But a note would leave evidence, and she wouldn’t put them at risk. Even if it meant breaking their hearts by leaving without a goodbye.

Fire Lily Masterlist

Taglist: @kaylove12, @akariblue, @wolfiemichele, @aquatickanye 

[lupinlongbottom]

Practically a Weasley Epilogue

Charlie Weasley x Reader

Summary: Little Kayda has finally finished her seven years at Hogwarts, much to the cheer and delight of her parents, Charlie and (Y/N). Her future is crawling near, if only her parents knew what it could possibly hold.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: None

A/N: This is mostly centered around Charlie and his girls, I will make that clear. The reader is there, and she’s important, but I wanted to highlight their daughters, as this is an Epilogue. I hope you all enjoy their three tornadoes angels as much as I do. Enjoy!

Part 1 … Part 1.5  …  Part 2 … Part 3

__

The end of the school year finally came, leaving many Hogwarts students to come home for the summer holiday. For some, this was their first year at the school for young witches and wizards, eager to share their stories with their families. For others, it was their final trip from the platform, until they choose to have kids of their own to see off. Regardless, the reunion of the various families on the platform at Kings Cross was a warm one.

“Dad…” Kayda moaned, trying to wriggle herself from Charlie’s grip. No luck.

“I haven’t seen you in forever!” Charlie exclaimed, hugging his daughter tighter. “Missed your birthday, two weeks ago! Consider it a late birthday present.”

“I’m eighteen now, I don’t need to be coddled at the platform,” Kayda sighed, patting her dad’s back. After finally wriggling herself free, Kayda nodded at her friends passing by, snickering at her father’s bear hug. “You can hug me more at home.”

“I plan on it,” Charlie beamed. Coming from the other end of the platform, (Y/N) walked between two redheaded girls, identical in their freckled face, both pushing their respective carts. “I see your mum found your sisters. Why didn’t you sit with them?”

“I sat with them at the beginning of the year,” Kayda shrugged. “I offered for them to sit in my compartment, but they said they had their own friends now,” she looked up, noting the presence of her sisters and mother. “Hey, mum.”

“Kayda,” (Y/N) said, tears glistening her eyes. “I know you probably don’t want a hug right now,” Kayda gave her dad a pointed look. Charlie smirked, shrugging. “But know that I’m so proud of you.”

“What about us?” the twin wearing a Slytherin scarf retorted, eyes turned downward, almost sad.

“Yeah, aren’t you proud of me and Harper?” the other added.

“Ellie…” Charlie sighed. “You know we’re proud of you two, but Kay just finished her schooling. It’s a big deal.”

“Well we just finished our first year. Big deal all around!” Ellie exclaimed, crossing her arms. “Besides, Kayda didn’t get to do hardly any of the fun stuff we did.”

“Like what? Going into each other’s common rooms? Wearing the other’s uniforms?” Kayda laughed, mirroring her sister’s stance. “I know you two switched. Often, at that.”

“You two did what?” (Y/N) asked, glaring at her twin daughters. “Harper? Ellie?”

“Come on mum,” Ellie laughed. “You really think that we wouldn’t try it? Harper’s in Slytherin, I’m in Gryffindor. It was bound to happen.”

“Ellie!” Harper hissed. “I thought we weren’t going to tell mum and dad!”

“Did you ever get caught?” Charlie asked.

“No,” Harper admitted. “Well, I guess Kayda knew, but she’s our sister, so…”

“Nice,” Charlie said, lifting his hand up, ready to give his daughters high-fives. (Y/N) grabbed his wrist, bringing it down.

“Charlie!” (Y/N) said, glaring at her husband. “I guess it’s not the end of the world. I should’ve known the two of you would’ve pulled something like that the second we heard you two weren’t in the same House.”

“I’m sorry, mum,” Harper said, her hands gripping her cart a bit tighter. “But on the bright side, I grew to like my House a bit better, even after everyone made fun of me being a Weasley!”

“Yeah?” (Y/N) smiled, noting the way her daughter’s blue eyes lit up. She had been worried about this very thing. Not every day a Weasley gets put into Slytherin House, is it? “How so?”

“Conrad has been hanging out with me in the common room and helping me study,” Harper said, smiling lightly. “He’s been keeping the bullies away too!”

“Conrad Lee? Barnaby’s son?” Charlie asked, crossing his arms. Harper nodded. “He’s a nice kid, coming from his parents it was bound to happen,” Charlie laughed, recalling the Magizoologist and his Curse-Breaker wife, close friends of his from his time at Hogwarts. “I figured he’d look out for you.”

“He only did that because Kayda asked him to do it,” Ellie said, rolling her eyes. “Don’t know how, seeing as they snog more than talk—”

“Ellie!” Kayda exclaimed, slapping her sister’s arm. Ellie winced for just a moment, fully prepared for the slap she received. “Shut it!”

“Don’t be embarrassed, Kay,” (Y/N) laughed, the panic on Kayda’s face not fading. “Conrad’s a nice boy. His mum and dad raised him well,” she smiled, patting her daughter’s back. “You’ve always got off well with him whenever they’d come to visit. Playing around in the dirt and whatnot.”

“Isn’t he a year younger than you?” Charlie asked, eyes pointed at Kayda, crossing his arms.

“Don’t you and mum have like five years between the two of you?” Kayda retorted, mirroring his pose.

“She has a point, Charlie,” (Y/N) laughed. “Enough of this idle chatting! We have a portkey to make if we want to get back to the cottage in time,” She pushed the twin’s backs, pushing their carts forward.

“You just don’t want to be stuck chatting with the entire family,” Ellie yawned, slowing her pace.

“I talked with Harry and Ginny, James just got done with his second year,” (Y/N) scoffed. “Your father caught up with Bill and Percy with their girls, too. We’re seeing Fred and George for dinner, we’ll be chatting with them then.”

“I don’t buy it.”

__

The warm glow of the kitchen radiated throughout the cottage. After Charlie and (Y/N) received the news of their, rather unexpected twins, the two moved to the Romanian countryside. It was farther off from the sanctuary, so Charlie had to either Apparate or take his broom, usually he chose the latter, enjoying the quiet moments of the morning rolling through the valley from up high, wind in his hair.

“Dad, should I take the pie out of the oven?” Harper asked, staring at the light brown crust intently.

“No,” Charlie hummed, pushing his sleeves up. He continued chopping the onions. “Shut the oven door, Harpy.”

“Sorry,” Harper said, gently shutting the door. Her fingers traced over the handle for a brief moment. “Do you need any help?”

“Blimey, I thought you’d never ask,” Charlie laughed, tilting his head at the aprons hung on the wall. “Grab your apron, kiddo.”

“Mum’s soup recipe?” Harper asked, tying the red apron around her waist, enjoying the feeling. She always liked helping her father out in the kitchen, ever since she was young. Molly often noted how her knife skills outshone those of her father, bringing much pride to the girl.“I can cut the carrots—”  

“No carrots,” Charlie said, sternly.

“Right, sorry dad,” Harper giggled. “I quite like the carrots in this soup though. Mum added them whenever you were out for work…”

“Well I’m here right now,” Charlie huffed, pushing the onions into the simmering pot on the stove. “You can chop the cabbage. Speaking of your mum, is she still helping your sister pack?”

“Yeah,” Harper nodded, eyes focused on her knife. She hadn’t had much practice at school, only using the skills in Potions class. “Why are you letting her move?”

“She’s an adult,” Charlie shrugged, stirring the burbling pot. “She said that she got a job and plans on moving this summer to start it. Still hasn’t told us the job… but she said she’ll tell us tonight.”

“Aren’t you going to miss her?”

“Of course I am,” Charlie said, washing his hands. “You, on the other hand, aren’t allowed to move out. Ever.”

“Dad!” Harper giggled. “I don’t want to move anyway. I missed the dragons terribly enough when I was at school.”

“The dragons missed you too. Well, I can only imagine. Can’t speak dragon. Harriet seemed rather glum, though,” Charlie clicked, drying his hands off with a towel. “Wait until third year,” Charlie mused, crossing his arms. “Care of Magical Creatures is going to blow your mind, kiddo.”

Charlie loved all of his daughters equally, so he said, but the connection he had with Harper was undeniable. While Kayda took much after her uncles—to Charlie’s dismay—and Ellie took after her mum—to an extent, the lip on that girl was unquestionably a Weasley trait—Harper took most after Charlie. She adored creatures, dragons especially. He would take her to the sanctuary whenever she asked, from a distance, per (Y/N)’s request. She was soft-spoken, hardly the one to lead her siblings, but her heart was bigger than her mouth.

“I can’t wait!”

“Can’t wait for what?” Ellie asked, throwing herself onto one of the kitchen chairs.

“To learn something I’m genuinely interested in,” Harper said, finishing her cabbage. She silently looked at Charlie, who nodded. “I mean, I like Charms and Potions, but I have a feeling Care of Magical Creatures is going to be a good one.”

“Well, I like Herbology—”

“You like Professor Longbottom’s face,” Harper snickered, pushing the cabbage into the pot.

“I never would’ve pegged you for the Herbology type, Eleanor,” Kayda smiled, walking into the kitchen. “Smells good, dad.”

“Shove it! Both of you!” Ellie exclaimed, her face growing pink. She tapped her nails against the counter. “I-I just think he’s a good teacher, that’s all.”

“He’s married you ninny,” Kayda said, flicking Ellie’s forehead. “Or did you not pay attention to the way he stares so sappily at the Potions Professor?”

“Wait, that’s his wife?” Ellie asked, rubbing her now red forehead. “They don’t have the same last name, though!”

“It’d be confusing to have two Professor Longbottom’s, wouldn’t it?” Kayda laughed. “She uses her maiden name for teaching at school. Her last name’s still Longbottom, though.”

“How do you know?” Ellie spat, voice dripping with venom.

“I took her N.E.W.Ts level class. Hardly a big class,” Kayda shrugged. “Always willing to chat with us, especially if we’ve done well in lesson. You never would’ve stood a chance, you’re nearly twelve.”

“I know,” Ellie huffed, the realization dawning upon her.

“Charlie,” (Y/N) said, stepping into the kitchen. “Oh, everyone’s here. It’s been a while since the kitchen was this full…”

“Flower, don’t start crying again,” Charlie said, wrapping his arms around his wife. “If you start crying, I’ll start crying.”

“You two are a bunch of saps,” Kayda laughed, noting her parent’s glistening eyes.

“Yet, you came from this bunch of saps,” Charlie laughed, kissing (Y/N)’s temple. “Think about that.”

“I try not to think too deeply about it,” Kayda said, rolling her eyes, fighting back a grin. She missed her parents, no matter how disgusting their lovey-dovey nature may be. “What time are Fred and George coming?”

“Any minute now,” (Y/N) said, glancing at the clock. “Fred said they’d Floo here by six—”

“Did someone say my name?” A voice bellowed from the living room.

Kayda’s eyes lit up, a grin spreading to her face. “Uncle Fred!”

“Hey there, partner,” Fred winked, pulling his niece into a side hug. “Hi (Y/N). Hi Charlie.”

“Glad to see you still don’t pick favorites,” Charlie smiled, nodding at his brother.

“We could never, Charlie. Just because we like our little Kay-Kay better than the two of you doesn’t mean we pick favorites,” George said, entering the conversation. “Honestly, you’d think our brother would know us better.”

“No, not at all,” (Y/N) laughed. “Where’s Angelina? Or the kids?”

“Get this,” Fred moved his voice to a small whisper. “Dragon pox, the both of them.”

“Fred’s lying,” George laughed. “Mine’s at his mum’s this week,” he shrugged.

“You’re right,” Fred sighed, taking off his bright orange jacket. “Angelina wanted to spend more time with our boy now that he’s home from his first year, much like Harper and Ellie. Nearly bit my head off when I told her I was coming here tonight instead.”

“They’ll all be sorely missed,” (Y/N) hummed, glancing at the large pot on the stove. “Though, had you two told me, I wouldn’t have made so much soup—”

“You didn’t make the soup, dad did!” Ellie pointed.

“And I helped!” Harper added, crossing her arms.

“You should’ve never had more kids, mum,” Kayda laughed. “Little snitches, the both of them.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying for years,” Fred agreed, placing his arm around Kayda’s shoulder. “One and done. Angelina and I listened to it. George had no choice, poor girl broke it off with him after their little one was born—”

“Honestly, Fred? Pipe down,” George said, growing annoyed. George never liked talking about his ex-girlfriend much. They had dated for a few years before she became pregnant, but they split a year after their son was born.

“Please,” (Y/N) scoffed, trying to diffuse the situation. “You two were beyond thrilled when you found out that Charlie and I were having twins!”

“We thought you’d name them after us!” George exclaimed, falling wistfully onto a dining chair. “But then you had more girls, what a waste of perfectly good names!”

“Technically they did,” Ellie said, groaning. “I’ve hated my middle name as long as I can remember.”

“I quite like mine…” Harper said, voice growing small.

“Your name isn’t ‘Eleanor Frederica’, Harper. All my friends have normal middle names, but no,” Ellie pointed at Charlie and (Y/N). “You had to make my life hard!”

“Ellie,” (Y/N) sighed. “Middle names aren’t the end of the world. Be happy you’re named after two of the coolest people on this planet.”

“Gross,” Ellie groaned again. “If you want to name me after someone cool, take a look at James! He has a cool name! James Sirius Potter, even the sound of it makes people sigh!”

“Ellie, we love your Aunt Gin,” Charlie said, glancing down, “but we’ve never been in real favor of their children’s names. A bit heavy handed, honestly.”

“When she told us the name of little Al, we nearly passed out,” George nodded. “Next year’s going to be a fun one for him, starting school with a namesake like that.”

“Having Frederica and Georgina is the least of your worries,” Fred laughed. “At least you,” he pointed at Ellie, “you got the better of the two.”

“I prefer Harper’s name,” George quipped, “sounds cooler, more hip.”

“Can we stop talking about my children’s names?” (Y/N) said, finally growing tired of the arguing. “Ellie, sweetheart, your name is fine. Fred, George, both of the twins names are equally sweet, be grateful that Charlie agreed with the idea.”

“It’s true,” Charlie hummed. “I wanted more dragon-related names…”

“I could’ve had a dragon name?!” Harper practically screamed, forcing her voice towards her parents. “Why does Kayda get one?”

“People don’t mispronounce your name,” Kayda retorted. “Never get ‘Kayla’ Weasley? Do you?”

“Oh my God,” (Y/N) groaned. “I wanted to have a normal family dinner, now my daughters are screaming bloody murder about their names—”

“Sounds like a normal Weasley dinner if I’ve ever seen one,” Charlie said, ignoring the bickering, the loudest coming from his three daughters. “Love, you knew full well what you got yourself into almost twenty years ago.”

“Hardly gave me a moment to think about it, didn’t you?” (Y/N) smiled, glancing up at her husband. “Pulled the rug out from beneath me that day.”

“Like you weren’t expecting it,” Charlie smirked. “I told you almost a year in that I wanted to marry you. Besides, you said yes.”

“I did. I don’t regret it,” (Y/N) sighed, glancing at her beautiful daughters, now arguing with their lively uncles. “How could I regret this?”

__

“The soup was great Charlie,” (Y/N) said, dabbing a napkin on her lip. “Harper, you did a great job helping.”

“Thanks, mum,” Harper smiled, feeling the pride well in her chest.

“Fred? George? You two have been awfully quiet,” Charlie said, noting his brother’s unlikely silence, “what’s up?”

“Well…”

“Actually…”

The twins looked to Kayda, who still had a spoon in her mouth. All of the Weasley’s eyes fell to her, watching as she fumbled with the silverware.

“Oh,” Kayda said, fumbling with her hands. “Do you think…?” She looked to her uncles, as if for permission. Fred nodded, George merely winking. “Well, I suppose,” she stood, seated at the foot of the table. “So, I’ve accepted a job—”

“We know,” Ellie sighed, twirling her spoon against the table. “You’ve only been talking about it the last month of school…”

“Eleanor,” Charlie hissed, eyeing his daughter. “Let your sister speak.

“Sorry,” Ellie lied. She hardly was sorry about anything.

“Anyway,” Kayda said, scowling at her younger sister for a moment. “So you know Zonko’s, in Hogsmeade? I’ve accepted a management position there—well, not at Zonko’s, I wouldn’t work there,” Kayda paused, flushing over her words. “I mean, I wouldn’t not work there, but I’ve been working at Fred and George’s place the last few summers and holiday breaks, a-and they’ve offered to buy out Zonko’s and—”

“Spit it out!” Ellie cut Kayda off again, growing more annoyed.

“Alright!” Kayda exclaimed, slamming her hands onto the table. “Fred and George are opening a branch of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes in Hogsmeade, in the old Zonko’s shop, and they’ve asked me to be the manager, want me to run it.”

“Kayda, that’s wonderful!” (Y/N) said, clasping her hands together. She looked to her brother in-laws. “You’ve always wanted to buy out Zonko’s, why now?”

“Well, we finally have our little prodigy out of school,” Fred looked to (Y/N). “Seeing as you lot wouldn’t let her drop out early, much like her successful uncles—”

“Who turned out to be quite the entrepreneurs despite it all…” George added.

“I wasn’t going to drop out, mum,” Kayda said, assuring her mother. “It seemed like a good time, me fresh out of school, ready to take it on.”

“So you’re running it on your own?” Charlie asked, eyeing his daughter down, a bit of hesitation in his voice. “All by yourself?”

“We’re going to let her do as much as she wants on her own, but we’re always a call away,” George said, fiddling with his spoon. “She’s already come up with at least a hundred and ten new ideas for products and marketing—”

“All based on what a student is really looking for outta jokes and tricks these days,” Fred said, cracking his knuckles. “Gotta keep the products young and hip as we can, what better way than insight and perspective from a more recent former student? Considering the market is loads of Hogwarts students on their weekends off?”

“I suppose…” Charlie mumbled, looking in his hands. “Are you going to be living on your own?”

“Dad, I’m eighteen, I think I can manage on my own, especially in Hogsmeade. I found a little apartment to lease, it’s near the shop.”

“I’m sure Conrad’s going to be moving in after next year anyway…” Harper mumbled from her mother’s side, glancing at her half-full bowl of soup. She didn’t exactly have the appetite for it, all things considered.

“He’s thinking about it,” Kayda added. “We’ve talked about it.”

“Nope,” Charlie stood up from the table, pushing his chair back. “Nope, not happening. Absolutely not.”

“Charlie…” (Y/N) sighed, pressing her hand against her husband’s forearm, her fingers tracing a recent burn.

“Nope, not happening until I sit down with the Lee’s,” Charlie said, pacing lightly. “Maybe take Conrad down to the sanctuary…”

“Dad!” Kayda cried. “My boyfriend doesn’t need an interrogation!”

“Boyfriend?!”

“This is getting good,” Fred said, leaning into his brother’s good ear.

“Way better than what mum used to spout, Charlie’s a spittin’ image of her I reckon,” George added, leaning back in his chair, noting how red Charlie’s face was turning. The father and daughter continued to shout, much to (Y/N)’s dismay. Her head was in her hands, sighing loudly.

“See, mum? This is what happens when you let your daughter run wild with a Slytherin,” Ellie said, reaching over the long table to gain her mother’s attention. “Dad’s gone mental.”

“I’m a Slytherin!” Harper added, her cheeks growing pink. “What does that say about me?”

“You know I love you, Harper,” Ellie sighed, looking at her twin. “But Slytherin stinks. Your common room isn’t even all that neat, green is such a boring color and your Quidditch team sucks. Besides, a Weasley in Slytherin? How absurd! Half the Great Hall nearly lost their lunch at the sight!”

“Hey!”

It wasn’t long before the entire table was up in a roaring thunder, the youngest Weasley twins were bickering—like always— Kayda and Charlie were near a dueling stance over some boy, and the eldest twins just sat back and laughed at the continued horror. (Y/N) sat idly by, truly ignorant to her wishes of a functioning family unit. How long had she waited for a moment like this? Her family back together? Surely she didn’t expect her eldest and her husband going almost as far as a duel, she also didn’t expect her youngest daring to speak the few swears she picked up at school, either.

But, deep down, (Y/N) knew this was her ideal life, the one she had dreamed of years ago. A hearty family, filled with enough personality to go around thrice the time as normal. Her daughters were intelligent, bright and full of spunk, her in-laws were closer to her than blood would allow and her husband… Godric, her husband was more than she could’ve dreamed, attentive, loving and protective of their family—even if it was a sore subject in the moment, considering the environment. (Y/N) knew that the dream life she had planned was far from her reality, but she wouldn’t change it for the world. After all,

She was a Weasley.

__

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[dragonrajafanfiction]

Ruri & Kayn: First Meeting

A gift fic for @rurifangirl

So sorry if I got anything wrong! haha!

It was a dark and frightening day in Tokyo. The rain came down in sheets, flooding the road and the thunder and lightning flashed constantly. The city lights were like stars in the expansive dark. It felt isolated from the world. Even though the vast majority understood nothing about dragons, they knew that the climate was going haywire. The cherry blossoms had bloomed out of season and the rain was never ending, like it was the monsoon season in spring.

If that wasn’t all, a great earthquake shook the entire city. The skyscrapers swayed dangerously. CCTV was shown on broadcasts of objects falling off the shelves in convenience stores and people fleeing late night karaoke bars in a panic. Fire and rescue sirens blared as their volunteers sped to the rescue, kicking up large wakes onto the sidewalk.

But that was nothing compared to the horrors going on inside the Genji Heavy Industries building. 

Fierce monsters slithered down the halls. They seemed impervious to all but the strongest of weaponry. They were fast and powerful and smashed through doors and even through walls. They killed dozens of people. Worst of all, when the survivors tried to get through the exits to escape the swaying building and the beasts inside, they couldn't escape. They were trapped.

Kayn had never been so scared since Black Swan Bay. He didn’t understand why he was so dizzy when the earthquake hit, so he didn’t understand why so many people were running for the exits. He just happened to run into Lu Mingfei in the chaos.

Lu-Kun dragged Kayn through an endless maze of halls and stairwells until they both reached a strange high security area of the building. Luminous seemed as stunned as Kayn and stepped through the vault door. And there were more and more doors after that. Every time the doors opened with a single click, and every time, the door recognized Luminous and welcomed his "return." , “Welcome commissioner of the Executive Board Ricardo M. Lu back to the "ξ" level.” 

But Lu-Kun said he’d never been here before.

Each time they passed through the vault doors, the door behind them would close, locking them inside and forcing them to go forward. Were they trapped? Kayn asked inwardly. Were they going to be stuck here forever? Maybe Lu-Kun thought he found an exit… but this wasn’t an exit. 

But they couldn’t go back. Only forward. There are no windows to the outside. The walls are made of hard black metal, and various signs of "Dangerous Area" and "no entry" are pasted on them in English and in Japanese.

Finally, they entered a corridor where the air was suddenly sucked out! If they lingered even a few minutes in that hall, they would pass out and possibly die from suffocation! Lu-Kun crawled on hands and knees to open the door and when he opened the door he found something like a hospital setting…

And a girl. Lu Mingfei quietly spoke to her and then held up a rubber duck. Ever since then, they seemed to be friends. Lu-Kun even knew her name from what was written on the duck. 

Erii.

This girl was amazing. Just tossing a toothbrush made the deadslave monsters flee in terror. She took Kayn by the hand and dragged him and Lu-Kun through the corridors, killing many monsters along the way. She seemed to know the way out. But following close behind them were members of the Hydra!

Eventually, they found themselves on the roof of a waiting helicopter! They had nowhere to run. Kayn could only wait in terror. Would they be found out? Would they end up having to jump off the building? They were going to die? Or was Erii going to kill them all?

But Erii didn’t seem concerned. Even though she was a monster killing machine, she was more fascinated with the pretty lights of the city laid out on a canvas before her.

Another light suddenly shined down from above. Kayn ducked away from the extreme downdraft as a helicopter landed. He was ushered on and an oxygen mask was placed over his face and his blood pressure was being taken. It was all very confusing but soon the helicopter took off from the roof of the Genji Heavy Industries building while the Executive members of the Hydra helplessly looked on, having arrived too late.

They didn’t land at the hospital but in an out of the way place. Like a park. They needed somewhere to hide and Erii picked out a Love Hotel nearby.

“Kayn. I’m going to get her settled in. Can you find some way to contact Caesar?” Lu-Kun looked at Kayn in earnest and Kayn brightly saluted. 

“Yes sir! Yes Lu-Kun sir!”

“Here.” He shoved a wad of money into his hand. “Find somewhere to talk to them! Quick! Tell them where I am!”

Kayn dutifully hurried out into the pouring rain. He ran for a few blocks before realizing he had no clue where he was or where he was going… or where he had been.

He spun around in a circle a few times, in a growing panic, soaking wet. He wanted to ask for directions but he didn't speak Japanese. “Oh no…” He whimpered. “Oh no!”

The city suddenly turned into a dark, rainy maze that he would never find himself out of! “Kayn, Kayn! Don’t panic! Just try. You have to try. Just find some place that’s open. You’re a foreigner. They’ll take pity on you in such an emergency!”

He walked into the nearest place that was open and opened the door. 

The door jingled cheerily and closed behind him. Every head turned and looked in his direction. They were all older men save a few younger women and the place was full of smoke and the smell of booze. The dark old wood paneled walls and ceilings held onto shadows. Only where there were dimly lit wall sconces could Kayn see anyone’s face.

A man walked up to Kayn. He pulled back his jacket and revealed a heavy revolver. 

“Hi! I’m looking for directions!” He squeaked!

The man paused. “Where are you going?”

“English! You speak English!” He breathed a sigh of relief. “I just need to use the phone! I’m lost. I um.. I have money.” He pulled the pile of wet bank notes and shoved him at the man.

The man with the gun looked at the large banknotes in amazement. Then he grinned. “Phone. Got it.”  He put an arm around Kayn’s shoulders. “You’re lost, alright.” He pressed the gun against his temple. “Don’t worry. We’ll take good care of you here.”

“Wait! Don’t shoot! I just want to use the phone! Phone!” 

Laughter echoed across the room as everyone watched him escort poor Kayn towards a back door. “Yes, yes… phone…” The man said, kicking the door open.

Inside was a dark room with a filthy bed and dirty walls. Dark ominous stains were on the floor next to what looked like zipties. Kayn realized that he was being kidnapped!

The man pressed a phone to Kayn’s chest. “Here you go… now make a phone call. 5 million dollars.”

“Make it 10! 10 million!” Someone shouted from the dining room.

“Let him go. Now.”

The man turned his head at the sudden youthful voice. His eyes widened with surprise. In a flash, he turned his revolver towards the voice. Kayn felt a sudden breeze, and heard something like wind. Something collided with them. The kidnapper’s eyes went wide. The gun slipped from his hand and hit the wood floor with a loud thump.

The scent of tobacco filled Kayn’s nose. He felt a warmth of a body against his own and the touch of fine silk against his cheek.

He lowered his eyes the next moment. A crimson blade was sticking out from the kidnapper’s torso and ran with blood down to the tip where it was dripping in a solid stream. A soft, malicious voice said something in Japanese and the sword twisted hard. Blood sprayed in a fountain from the wound and the man collapsed, sliding off the sword and onto the floor..

Everyone in the room suddenly got up to run away, fleeing through the door. That glass door swung and the bell that cheerily rang over and over.

Kayn found himself looking into two dark beautiful eyes with a pale feminine face. The man who had killed the kidnapper was wearing a black kimono with red flowers, with wooden clogs on his feet, and a long red scabbard on his waist. His kimono was open and his delicate ribs were faintly visible.

Those eyes smiled and offered incredible kindness. “Hello. My English isn’t that great. Please bear with me.”

“M...my English…” Kayn looked down as the blood was pooling and almost touched his shoes. He wanted to get away from the blood. He didn’t want to be stained by it but the man held him close. Kayn reflexively hugged him tightly.

Despite the fact that Japanese didn’t hug strangers, this one lightly touched his hair. “You’re younger than I imagined. You must be very scared. Let’s get out of this place. I’ll take you somewhere you can rest.”

[heyheydidjaknow]

I’m uploading this Friday at 12:10 am. Or, at least, that’s when I finished writing this. Yes, we’re still on the angst thing. It won’t last forever, but still.

Chapter 9

“How is she?”

Donatello sits down next to his brother on the couch. “Same as yesterday,” he sighs. “Comatose.”

“I still can’t believe it,” Raphael smirks. “That stupid bitch decided to total the fuckin—"

“Raphael,” he promises coolly, “I will personally make it my life’s goal to make sure you can never open your mouth again if you don’t shut up.”

He puts his hands up. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Will you two be quiet for a minute? I’m trying to listen.” Leonardo kneels in front of the television.

There is a new news story.

“They can’t arrest her, can they?” The tallest brother glances at the others.

“Nah.” Michelangelo is sprawled out on his portion of the couch, eyes dully focused on the screen. “They’ll side with her before someone from a street gang, ‘specially with those…” He trails off. “’ Sides,” he clears his throat, “any good public defense lawyer would call it self-defense, and there’s no way the police would convict a teenage girl of any degree of murder with the injuries she has; bad press.”

“Mikey,” Leo asks, “how come you know that and not how to multiply numbers by seven?”

“Because seven is a stupid number that was created just to make us all feel stupid.”

“Leo—”

“He’s right,” Raph agrees. “They won’t put her away for something like that.” He chuckles darkly. “Besides, there’s no more evidence.”

“After what happened with the neurologist?”

“Donnie,” Leo turns to look at him. “She’s going to be fine.”

He opens his mouth to argue, closes it.

” The perpetrator,” the news anchor reads, ” was found this morning after a panicked nine-one-one caller had seen the hand of the assailant hanging over a ledge. The corpse had, presumably, been flung away from the scene of the incident as a consequence of the explosion, miraculously landing on the roof of a nearby restaurant. The body has been identified as Fong Zhao, who was arrested on multiple charges of armed battery earlier this year. The police have refrained from offering Channel Six detailed information, but we have an anonymous source who claims that he and the gang he is supposedly involved in, locally referred to as the Purple Dragons, was also involved in the hijacking of a truck carrying a substance believed to be tear gas. The driver of the truck testified in favor of this statement earlier this evening. An investigation is currently ongoing regarding the involvement of the men in question, and we at Channel Six implore our viewers to come forward with any information you may have on the case or the supposed ringleader, the recently escaped Xever Montes. More on that later tonight. Up next, a local—”

Leonardo shuts off the television. “Well, there you go.” He stands up. “See? Didn’t even mention her name.”

Donatello breathes out a sigh of relief. “Good,” he nods after a moment. “That’s... good.” He cradles his head in his hand, his concerns hardly pacified by the report.

This, he cannot excuse. This is entirely a matter of his own negligence.

‘I should’ve noticed sooner, insisted to come with.’ He zones out, his brother starting a conversation about something he cannot bring himself to pay attention to. ‘How could she be that reckless? It’s Shredder for fuck’s sake; I should’ve at least noticed the body or something, anything.’ His fingers lace together as he stares a hole into the ground. ‘Even if I couldn’t have stopped her, I should’ve been there, if only after the fact.’ He runs his tongue along his teeth absentmindedly. ‘Some ninja I am. Some friend. Some—’

“So, I broke Y/N’s arms, right?”

His head snaps up. “You what?”

“There he is,” Raph chuckles. “Knew that’d get his attention.”

“Don’t make me go over there,” he glares. His face flushes in embarrassment.

Leonardo rolls his eyes at his brother’s antics. “As I was saying, it’s been pretty quiet, hasn’t it? Since the incident?”

“Now that you mention it,” Raph points out, “since the whole Leatherhead fiasco, I don’t think anything’s really happened. Ya know, besides the Kraang thing.” He crosses his arms behind his head, leaning back into the couch. “It’s been getting’ kinda boring If I’m bein’ honest.”

“It’s that desire to fight that’s going to get you killed,” Donatello informs him, staring at the television screen. “Saw what happened to her, right? Weren’t you just saying how stupid she was being?”

“Yeah, but that’s different.” He smiles sharply. “She’s got exactly no training. As much as you guys seem to have a thing for humility all of a sudden,” he waves his hand contemptuously, “the only reason she got hurt is that she was being stupid, so we’re pretty much undefeated, no thanks to Leo.”

He stands up, deciding against fighting him. “If you need me,” he says curtly, “I’ll be in my lab.”

“Watch it, Raph,” the eldest brother snaps.

“Why should I?” He throws his hands up. “Am I wrong?”

Mikey quietly grabs his comic off the floor, retreating to his room, presumably.

Donatello slides the door in between him and his brothers as he sits down at his desk.

You have been stuck in the hospital for about two weeks now.

‘Technically,’ he corrects himself as he pulls his laptop open, ‘it’s been three hundred fifty-seven hours, meaning it’s closer to fifteen days than two weeks. Why do I know that?’ He pulls up an image, uncapping a permanent marker and working on one of the more mindless parts of his latest project: reviving an incredibly battered map. He already has a frame for it once he is finished, but, knowing his brothers, the fading colors would likely be a point of contention if he did not at least make an effort to make it easier to read. Fortunately for him, it is not laminated. Unfortunately—depending on how you look at it— a lot of the finer details—the integral streets names in particular—are all irreparably smudged and, therefore, will have to be all rewritten by hand, turning a once twenty-minute job into at least a two-hour investment.

He tries to tune out the incessant arguing of his two older brothers as he focuses on making his minute handwriting legible despite the infuriatingly fat marker nib.

“You should have taken her offer for a pen when you had the chance,” he mumbles to himself.

His hand stops.

‘Would it be weird to go check on her again? Just to make sure she’s still alright? I mean,’ he goes back to work, ‘even if it were, how would she know?’

He shakes his head to clear it. ‘Stop that. You’re being a creep again.’

Over those two weeks, his distractedness has become more of a problem than it has in the past in reference to his work. He is hardly a stranger to having a thousand thoughts bouncing around his head at once, but where once a rapid stream of information was there is now an aggravatingly slow sludge. The origin of said mind sludge is not at all a mystery to him, which makes the whole thing infinitely more frustrating. ‘Frustrating? Depressing? Does it even matter?’

He rubs his eye absentmindedly with the heel of his palm as he strains to see what he is doing. The smell of the marker is corrosive in his nostrils. His hand shakes. He sets it down, wringing his hands as if to force them back into submission as he stares holes into the map. ‘This is not supposed to be challenging.’ He closes his eyes, the image of you lying on the ground, a bloody, skeletal figure shaking and begging for your life carved into the backs of his eyelids, a hideous scar.

He can not stop thinking about what you said the night before the incident. Something about being able to care for yourself.

What would you say to him now? He imagines that it would be something to remind him of how the accident is your fault, how he should not beat himself up over it, but all that does is convince him that he should have been faster to act or to respond or something. There had to have been something he, in his infinite wisdom, could have done. What else can he reason? That he is powerless? That he had no say in what happened that night of nights?

‘How come I can plan and build a combat vehicle out of alien technology and an old subway car and I can’t—’

He jumps at a loud banging at the door.

“Donnie!” He can hear Raphael’s wicked grin from behind the door. “Bank robbery! Let’s go!”

He sighs, capping the marker. His breakdown will have to wait.

“Comin’!”

--

The ringing in your ears is already annoying.

You have been awake for about five minutes. You have elected against moving for a plethora of reasons, but the ringing is a relatively large determining factor in your decision. You are, admittedly, not sure where you are until you hear the tell-tale incessant beeping you remember from your childhood. You do not open your eyes yet. You are incredibly drowsy for some reason.

‘Hospital?’

You sit up carefully, wincing as a numb pain permeates through your arms. You run your fingers over your face curiously, feeling for any perceived disfigurement as your eyes scan your surroundings. The small room you have been placed in seems standard; there are a couple of chairs under a window that makes up half of the wall, a television screen in a corner of the room, an inoffensive painting, and a small vase filled with some sort of white flowers.

You feel a protruding scar on the right side of your face. It traces from the bridge of your nose to about halfway across your cheekbone. As you bring your hands down to pull the hospital gown away from your body, you catch sight of your hands. Long, jagged cuts run vertically along the front of your hands, and as your eyes travel up your arms, you notice fewer, shorter scars along the insides of your forearms. You swallow, pulling the cloth away from your body to see long scratches running from your thighs to under your ribcage. You pull the blanket off to find that one of your legs is encased in a white cast.

You blink. ‘What stupid thing did I do?’

You lay back down, fingers absentmindedly tracing the scars. ‘I must have been out for a bit.’ You push the hair out of your face, noting how oddly shaky your hands are as you try to focus on what had happened. ‘Why wouldn’t my folks be here? They wouldn’t ditch me in a hospital, would they?’ You hold them out in front of you, palms to the ceiling. ‘I don’t look old or anything. My nails aren’t much longer than they were before, so I can’t have been out for that long.’

Your eyebrows furrow. ‘Parents…’ You swallow. ‘Oh, right. The fire.’ Your eyes go out of focus. ‘Dead. I was, too, until recently.’ You put your arms down. ‘I’m hungry. Where am I?’ You close your eyes. ‘New York. East coast. How far is the East Coast from the West Coast? I should call her so she knows I’m—no, she’s dead.’

“All dead and gone,” you mumble the tune to yourself.

You cover your face. ‘Focus. What happened?’ You recall what you think is a church. ‘Turtles. Turtle. Oh, TMNT. Where are people? Focus.’ You yank at a piece of your hair, mumbling to yourself as you try to run through the memory again.

The image of that man’s body takes your breath away.

You shut your eyes tighter. ‘Right. Car. Glass. Glass would be a good candy. Could you make glass out of sugar? Isn’t that what a lollipop is?’ You hug yourself tightly, careful of the IV as you roll onto your side towards it. ‘I killed someone. Someones. That’s not a word. Gasoline smells bad.’ You feel tears prick at your eyes. ‘I deserve to die for that. There has to have been an easier way to do that. I deserve to burn again. That explosion was so prettily animated in that episode. I can’t breathe.’

You curl your legs up towards you, using the arm not connected to the IV to hook behind your knees. You bury your head in your shoulder as you force your breathing to slow. ‘I miss her. Where is he? They’re dead and you killed them, you heartless bitch.’

You feel a sob rise in your throat. You swallow it back. ‘Stop being a pussy.’ You hear yourself start to count softly. ‘They’re all dead and gone. You’re on your own here, so get a grip.’ You grip the blanket. ‘After all, who are you going to turn to? The guys who already risk their lives every day? Or maybe Splinter, who will probably tell you some bullshit about letting your pain go?’

‘That’s not fair,’ you argue with yourself. ‘You can turn to Murakami. Casey might be willing to help.’

‘Because Casey’s known for his reliability and Murakami would want to deal with your stupid emotional problems.’

“Twenty-three,” you whisper, keeping your voice even. “Twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six…’

You pull yourself back up, bringing your knee to your chest as you wipe any tears that may have leaked out with the back of your hand.

You do not have to wait long until someone comes in to check on you, a taller gentleman with sharp features and sunken eyes behind curly black hair. He introduces himself as Nurse McGrath, gives you a run down of the dizzying number of injuries you had suffered in the accident, what they had done to fix the problem, and starts to discuss what would become of you now.

“The doctor predicts that you’ll be able to remove your cast in approximately six weeks, and that you will regain your fine-motor skills fully in eight.” He is obviously half asleep, but you can hardly blame him; the clock on the wall reads that it is about three in the morning. “The symptoms from the whiplash should completely fade in about three months. If you would be open, there are medications we can prescribe to help with the pain.”

You smile. “Thank you, sir, but I’d rather not.” You are sincerely concerned what might happen if you start taking any sort of medication right now, considering your mental health.

“I should probably warn you in advance that the police might ask you to come in to identify the guys who kidnapped you.”

You blink, confused. “How do they know I was kidnapped?”

“Anonymous tip, according to the news.” He scratches something into some form or another. “I dunno the specifics, but nobody thinks they’re gonna charge you with anything, ‘specially since the driver was from that street gang.”

You nod. “Gotcha.” You purse your lips. “What day is it?”

“Twenty-fourth, now.”

You sigh. “Well,” you shrug, ignoring the pain it causes, “at least I’m not dead.”

“At least.” He caps his pen. “Technically, you’re free to leave, but the doc thinks it’s a good idea to stay overnight. Your insurance provider has your medical bills covered, so you’re good for it.”

“Honestly? I’m surprised I don’t feel weaker.” You smile. “I’m more than happy to head home tonight, if that makes most sense.”

“Personally, I wouldn’t stay.” He starts heading out of your room. “Your cellphone is locked up. I’m guessing you want it?”

You nod eagerly, realizing quickly that makes the ringing worse.

“I’ll bring it right back, then.”

You refrain from touching it until he leaves.

It looks as if it was put in a blender, but you find it does still turn on. A problem quickly arises: your hands cannot hold the phone. You set it down on the mattress, each movement taking a ridiculous amount of time to coordinate as you type like someone who has never used a phone before. ‘Fine motor skills. Right.’ You type out a message after approximately too long that tells Donnie that you are out of the hospital and heading home.

You check out of the hospital at approximately four-thirteen. The trip home is a straight line of a walk that takes you approximately twenty minutes. Getting in through the door with a walker is a bit of a challenge, but it works out well enough.

You lock the door and windows when you get home, shutting your phone off as you crawl into bed.

You let out a low groan as your head punishes you for your heinous crime of moving. You had realized ten minutes into your walk that you were not at all physically strong enough to walk that long, and you already hate yourself for it, among other reasons. As you crawl into bed, ignoring your body’s protest, you still stand by your decision to not take any medication, especially now.

You feel as though you are being suffocated as you cling onto your pillow, pressing your face into it as you cry silently, the ringing in your ears only getting louder in the silence of your apartment.

‘I feel sick.’

You remember your first night here. You remember the feeling it had caused you, the numb ache of loss as you submitted to the situation you had found yourself in. It feels like an eternity ago, now. You know, logically, it cannot have been more than two months since you got here.

You had decided against taking a cab back home. You had the cash, and you still do, in your bloodstained pocket. You saw many as you walked home, and you had turned a blind eye to them all.

You feel yourself trembling again. You remember the first night you had slept on your own here, the nightmares you swore were the product of a mind much more sadistic than yours ever was. You remember, too, the nightmares you had after Bradford, the way that, for the first time in your life since you were five years old you woke up drenched in sweat and crying for your mother.

What possible dream could come from this?

You reach a hand to the nightstand, hovering over your cellphone as you consider your next action.

Slowly, you retract it, letting it rest next to you. ‘It’s four. He’s not awake.’ You do not have the energy to get up to grab the bottle of sleeping pills from your bathroom.

‘I don’t want to sleep. I can’t take another nightmare.’ You rest your cheek on the pillow, forcing your eyes shut. ‘Mare. Why is it called a nightmare? Are mares truly that terrifying?’

“One,” you whisper. “Two. Three.”

Table of Contents

Chapter 8

Chapter 10

[skzsauce01]

Normal Pt 4

Description: For more skilled maneuvers, dragon shifters need a rider to help them out. After rejecting multiple riders, Hyunjin, a traumatized and handicapped shifter, is assigned to you. To add a cherry on top, you’re deaf, so how are you supposed to cast spells to free him from his limitation, let alone the anger in his heart?

Warning: none

Word Count: 2k

Pairing: fem!reader x dragon!Hyunjin

Pt: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5

“Hi half-tailed lizard.” “Careful, he’s a Twilight Terror.” “Oooh, scary!” 

Hyunjin keeps his head down and continues on his way. Win a war with a handicap and you’re an inspiration. Lose one, and you’re a laughing stock for even trying. Surprisingly, it doesn’t bother him as much as it did before. He meant what he said to the boys at the clinic. The tail is special to you, and it is special to him, broken or otherwise.

Still, it isn’t right for them to say such things. “Hey! You three over there! Name, age, which dorm you live in, now. I’m citing you for bullying.”

Hyunjin doesn’t have to turn around to know that the prefect is hollering at the group of gossipy dragons. He’s seen Chan pop up a few times to defend him now. When he is finished taking down their information, Hyunjin walks up to him. 

“You know you don’t have to keep doing that for me. I can take care of myself.”

Chan gives him a brotherly pat on the shoulder, saying “Of course I do! It’s my job to look out for everyone” then walking away with his golden prefect armband swaying with every step.

Ugh, how much more perfect can he get? No matter now; you had asked Hyunjin to meet you today, and he isn’t about to keep you waiting.

You look excited as you stand on the field waiting for him. Well, you look excited every time you see him, and Hyunjin is starting to feel the same when he sees you.

He tilts his head to the side, asking why you called him out today. He closes his eyes when you gesture for him to do so and feels you fiddling with his necklace. When you tap him on his shoulder, he opens his eyes and looks down to see a frame made of white gold clasped snuggly against his pendant.

‘Turn dragon, but add an eee sound to the end of the spell.’

He does as told again and watches the usual purple swirls envelop and transform him. When he is done, however, he feels a new weight on his extremity. He turns around to see a white prosthetic fin attached to his tail.

He huffs a puff of smoke at you in amazement. You beam back at him and hold up your notepad.

‘I thought about how to do this while stuck at the clinic, but it took a while to figure out even after my discharge. I hope this helps you fly with your dragon friends again.’

Hyunjin returns to human form to write. ‘Aren’t you scared that I’ll never let you on again if I can fly by myself?’ he teases.

‘You don’t get appai berries when you fly solo,’ you shoot back.

Hyunjin performs a dramatic display of misery that makes you chuckle silently. Rolling your eyes, you indicate toward a metal can that you have also brought.

‘Transform again so I can paint it purple for you.’

Your companion shakes his head. ‘I like it white.’

‘But it doesn’t look natural,’ you object. 

He raises his previous message again for you to read.

You shrug, nudging the paint away with your foot. ‘Want to test it out still?’

Within seconds, Hyunjin is in the air with a discoloured tail following him. After six years of imbalance, he almost fell from the new fix, but you are there on the ground to straighten him up every time. He recalls this feeling, being able to glide to the side and move his tail however he wanted to. He used to do this with his buddies in the forest before he met-- No, Hyunjin told himself that he isn’t going to dwell on the past anymore, not when you’re here in the present right now, and he can’t bear to drop you from the sky again. It’s still a work in progress, but you promised him a shoulder whenever he’s struggling with it. 

Still, there’s no crime in relishing the feeling of weightlessness in the air. As enjoyable as it is however, Hyunjin knows there’s something missing.

‘How is it?’ you ask once he’s landed.

‘Something’s not quite right…’

You furrow your brows, wondering where you could have made a mistake, but before you can come to a conclusion, Hyunjin chants his transformation spell again. He then knocks you off your feet and sweeps you onto his back.

Hyunjin lets out a roar towards the advanced obstacle course to which you laugh and lean forward in preparation. Before you can even blink, the two of you are cutting through the air, going faster with each stroke of the Terror’s powerful wings.

Much better.

Hyunjin cherishes these practices the most when there’s no one watching and nothing on the line. It’s just you and him. It’s nice, and he wishes he could keep it like this forever, but with the way your eyes twinkle with laughter and the way your hair blows in the evening breeze after he lands and you roll off of him onto the grass, he can’t help but wonder if he can have something more.

What? you ask with a motion of your head, referring to his staring.

He shakes his head. Nothing.

You nudge at his shoulder, and he gives in, turning to sit facing you. He reaches over to cover your eyes, making your breath hitch, so that you can’t read his lips.

“I know I’m not charming like Chan or reliable like Changbin, but I like you, Y/N,” he confesses. “I like you a lot.”

With that, he draws back his hands to reveal a confused expression on your face which quickly turns into a pout. He laughs and knocks your forehead back with two fingers.

‘What did you say?’ you interrogate.

‘I said ‘Take me to the Race!’’ He pumps his fist into the air.

You smile widely and imitate his action. He laughs and bumps his fist to yours. He’s going to compete. After all these years, he’s finally going to compete.

After coming to terms with his feelings and with the annual winter ball around the corner, Hyunjin knows what to do. The winter ball’s sole purpose is to celebrate the past year and the upcoming race, so Hyunjin never really had a reason to go until now. He’s feeling a little nervous about even attending the ball itself and is why he waited so long to purchase a bouquet of gold-tipped, cream coloured flowers mixed with a few pastel pinks and purples for accent. 

He knows you are in the library, so that’s where he went, but he almost doubted his location for a second. Since when was the dusty, ancient place so crowded? He peers past the mob and sees you in the center of it.

But you aren’t alone.

Chan had set up a whole ambiance for you complete with twinkling fire fairies and petals on the ground. He places your hand on his acoustic guitar for you to feel the vibrations as he plays a sweet song and one of his friends nearby signs for you the words he is singing. When he is done, he takes your hand and gifts you a dozen scarlet roses.

‘Go to the dance with me?’ he signs.

No sensible human would turn down something like that. Hyunjin suddenly feels like he can’t breathe when you nod with a shy smile and Chan pulls you into a relieved hug. He slips out of the cheering crowd, unable to bear it any longer.

As he storms down the hall, he hears a familiar voice call out to him. “Hyunjin? Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry about me, Hye Ji.”

“I, um, have something to ask of you,” the girl admits. Why does she look nervous?

“Go for it,” Hyunjin nods. 

“Will you go to the winter ball with me?” she squeaks. 

Hyunjin looks at the bouquet of flowers in his hands with a sigh. Slowly, he lifts his eyes back up to face her. “Sorry, Hye Ji. I don’t think I’ll be going this year. I’m sorry.”

“It’s Miss L/N, isn’t it?” she calls as he tries to leave.

Hyunjin turns around, surprised. Hye Ji is looking at her boots with her hair covering her face.

“I’m sorry,” Hyunjin repeats. 

“I-it’s fine,” she chokes. “Y/N’s really great and all. I would choose her too if I were you.”

“Hye Ji--”

“I said it’s fine!” she yells and runs away.

Three nights later and Hyunjin is moping alone in his dorm room, picking at his recipient-less bouquet. The prefects’ opening dance should have ended by now. He imagines you in your rose gold gown and silver heels looking like you stepped straight out of a fairy tale. He imagines you swaying gently with Bang Chan as the prefect leads you to the beat of the music.

There’s no crying over spilled milk now, he decides with a sigh. What’s someone as talented and sweet as you going to do with someone as broken and angsty like him anyway? Someone who’s charismatic and top of his class, someone like Chan, looks a lot better next to you.

There’s a sound at his door to which his ears perk up excitedly. He had ordered two portions of lamb rib stew to hopefully eat himself into a coma. 

“Coming!” he calls, pulling out a bottle of cider.

Once he opens the door, he almost slams it back shut in shock. 

Instead of a delivery man, you stand in front of him in all of your perfect hair, perfect eyes, perfect nose, perfect lips, perfect everything glory. Not to mention you are complete with a bag of lamb rib stew in your hand.

‘I met the delivery mister on the way. Can I come in?’ 

Hyunjin swallows with difficulty and steps to the side for you, nearly passing out when the tulle of your dress brushes against his leg as you walk by.

‘What are you doing here?’

You shrug your pearly shoulders. ‘Chan got called away for some duties after the opening dance. Apparently there’s something wrong with the course for the Race. It doesn’t seem like he’ll be back before the ball ends, so I left after telling Changbin. I’m not intruding or anything, am I? It looks like you bought two servings of lamb. Were you expecting someone?’

‘I must have ordered it wrong,’ he lies, rubbing the back of his head. ‘Have you eaten?’

You shake your head and he immediately offers you a takeout before getting two glasses for the cider. You thank him, and the two of you begin eating. After dinner, he excuses himself to toss out the trash, and you notice the cream bouquet by his bed.

‘Were you going to ask someone to the dance?’ you ask when he returns.

What was he supposed to say? That he randomly sports flowers in his dorm?

‘Something like that. Someone else asked first though.’

‘Hye Ji came alone today though.’

‘It’s not Hye Ji!’ he writes a little too quickly. ‘They… they can be yours if you’d offer me a dance. You know, since it’ll be a waste of such a pretty dress if you only do one waltz in it.’

You giggle, and he can’t tell if it is because of his words or how red he must be right now.

‘Sure. They’re gorgeous. Thank you.’

You place your right hand in his left, and he takes you to the center of the room. You put your other hand confidently on his shoulder, and he timorously finds your waist. After a few awkward steps, you begin singing to ease his tension. As expected, he moves elegantly with your tune as if you’re on the training grounds, flying. It’s a lovely sound, he thinks, and even more so when you’re singing it just for him in the air or like right now.

‘You’re staring again,’ you trace into his back, the motion sending shivers down his spine.

He doesn’t know where the courage came from, but Hyunjin decides to give you a proper explanation this time. He points at you, taps his cheek, then draws a semi circle around his face.

‘You’re beautiful.’

~ ad.gold

[magalidragon]

Here is the drabble I promised @youwerenevermine !! 🥰 I’m sorry it took me forever. It is for prompt Exhausted Parents Kiss and is set in the summer lovin’ universe.

Enjoy these cuties! 🏝 ⛵️ ❤️

The boat rocked gently from side to side, waves lapping against the hull. It was a natural sleeping aid, like being back in mother's arms, soothing your soul. Ordinarily Jon would be fast asleep by now as lying in Daenerys's arms in the big bed they had in their cabin with the cool breeze filtering in through the open portholes would have sent him straight off the cliff to dreamworld. It was his favorite place to be.

To his newborn son, on the other hand, it was not the same as being in his mother's arms. He did not like the boat at all, had been a right terror most of the day, his screaming and protesting so loud they could probably hear him all the way in Westeros. Jon knew they shouldn't have left the villa. It had been his wife's idea to take their yacht out cruising on a multi-day trip from Tall Trees Town around through the Summer Isles, over to Naath, and then venture towards the ruins of Old Valyria before skirting to the Orange Coast and stop in Volantis.

And as they were currently too far from the port in Naath but also not close enough to Volantis, they were spending the evening anchored in the Summer Sea, which was the plan, except Jon had hoped they would be a little less preoccupied with crying, protesting babies and more preoccupied with exploring the various parts of each other they quite enjoyed. Not that he didn't already know every inch of his beautiful wife; he just really enjoyed remapping every curve and bump of her, including the new bits she'd developed after birthing his two children.

He never considered himself possessive; until she came along. So maybe that was why he was experiencing slight jealousy at his son who was currently getting more of Daenerys's body than Jon was getting at the moment. He closed his eyes tight, as Rhae let loose another scream, which prompted Jae to throw a pillow in frustration. "I hate him!' she cried.

"You don't hate him," he mumbled, an arm draped over his eyes while Jae peered over his chest from where she'd been curled into his side, glaring angrily at her baby brother. He tried to brush her curls from her sticky, warm face, but she fussed, not wanting to be touched. The poor baby had gotten sunburned, which he blamed himself for, and hated that he hadn't noticed she'd been kicking around in her float-- attached with a rope to the back of the boat-- without her hat for a good while.

He hated feeling like a failed parent. It happened a lot. He moved to the side of the bed, picking up Jae, who started sniffling and crying. "Ouchie," she sobbed, touching her hands to her reddened cheeks.

"Don't touch it baby."

"Mummmm," she sobbed, trying to get to her mother, who was busy trying to get Rhae to nurse, to at least occupy his mouth with something other than screaming.

Dany was exhausted; she wore a bikini top in lieu of her nursing bra, claiming it far easier to remove for feeding their voracious son. She had on a pair of his boxers and her silver curls were unwashed and salty from the sea, piled on top of her head. Bags under her eyes rivaled his. She never admitted defeat, never gave up, and he loved that about her, but damn if this wasn't her idea and now they were stuck on the boat with their demon seed.

He loved their demon seed, would kill and die and destroy any and all who dared to threaten them, but seven hells they were something else. Jae thrived on the water, he credited her conception with that. Rhae, not so much. He hoisted her up to his hip, taking her out of the cabin to the galley, and took out another 'Boo Boo Pack' from the freezer, lightly touching it to her warm skin.

She pressed it to her face, sniffling. "Daddy," she mumbled.

"I know baby girl, I'm here." He was so tired; he grabbed the aloe from the fridge, but missed and ended up with a bottle of rum. Honestly I could do with that too. He took her up to the deck, with his rum and her aloe, and settled into the leather seating looking out towards the rear of the boat, the moon, stars, runner lights and the glow from inside the yacht serving as the only light source; it was a clear night and they could see everything. He took a swig of rum for courage and then began to swipe aloe on Jae's cheeks; she was not pleased.

Eventually she wore herself out, hugging his chest, her aloed face stuck to his bare chest and her hand over his heart. He wrapped her light blankie around her, hugging her tighter, resting his face on her soft dark curls. Gods I love you so much, he thought sleepily. He hummed to himself, grateful for the current that had them shifting in the water. It was enough to make him fall asleep too.

He woke with a start; maybe a second later. Maybe an hour. He realized he was no longer alone on the couch. Jae was fast asleep on him and beside him Dany leaned to his side, their son nestled between her breasts, his shock of silver hair sticking up straight and mouth moving in his sleep, no doubt imagining he was still nursing. He was a fat, greedy little baby, who Jon loved more than anything. Except when he had plans for Dany that had now been derailed completely.

Dany blinked up at him, smiling, a little dazed. "Hey."

"Hey."

They stifled their laughter. He sighed. "Remember when you flashed me to get my attention? I'm so tired I probably wouldn't respond."

"I'd flash you now but I've got a little dragon latched on."

He glanced down, rolling his eyes; Rhae had shoved his face into her bikini top, hunting around. He patted his son's bottom, chuckling. She laughed softly. "Just like his Daddy."

"Daddy's too tired to care."

"How is her burn?"

"It'll be fine. She's never taking that hat off again."

She snorted. "Good luck with that."

Her head rested on his shoulder, both of them reclining back, the rocking doing its job. They drifted off, their babies cuddled into him. Quite a difference from how it began, he thought idly, when it was just them goofing around, carefree, thinking they'd never see each other again.

The next morning their sea dragon was roaring for the water; Jon jumped into the sea with Jae and when she moved to take off her hat, he slapped it back onto her head. He was tired, but not that tired to forget. He pulled her to him, zooming around backwards with her in her float, laughing and spinning in place. Dany joined, Rhae in his baby float, his nose wrinkled, annoyed but at least not crying. He leaned over top of the floats and their babies to take Dany's mouth with his, gently kissing her, exhausted. "I love you," he sighed.

She sighed back, purple eyes soft. "I love you too."

"Let's never leave here."

"That's the best idea I think you've had in a long time Jon Snow." She swam into his arms, both of them nudging the floats around as they lazily kicked about the sea, their happy place.