#one of the like two things i knew about the inheritance cycle before reading it

[concha-de-mar]

I have just learned that an Inheritance Cycle show is in the works, and um, what?!

[where-dreamers-go]

What about Eragon walking in on their SO changing! But make it spicy!

"Look In Your Eyes" Eragon x Reader

(A/N: Oh dear. Spicy, but not too spicy, okay? XD Wait, haven’t I wrote something about Eragon or Reader without a shirt before? I just dawned on me. Ah ha! There is a laundry day drabble thing where Reader isn’t wearing anything from the waist up. See? I knew. I remembered. Anyways… Warnings: mentions of undressing, kissing, and romance. Word Count: 453 words)

Strange days happened to everyone. Even lucky days happened to others.

You had spilled a drink on your shirt not too long ago. Said article of clothing had been tossed in the bathing area to be dealt with at a later time. It was in fact not the day to work on dirty laundry.

A few minutes in peace and quiet would work nicely, however.

Until the door to your quarters opened and you remembered how you forgot to lock it properly.

You hastily covered your front torso with a fresh shirt.

“There you are,” said Eragon as he walked in.

“Um.”

Brown eyes widened as he took in the sight of you. Eragon had not seen you in a handful of hours and walking in on you half dressed definitely surprised the Dragon Rider.

He kicked the door shut.

You jumped only slightly at the sound.

Seeing your body language, he raised his hands up and stated, “Formal dress isn’t necessary here. There’s no need to worry.”

“Oh?” You caught how he looked at you with intimate ideas behind brown eyes. He was hardly one to mask his expressions around you.

“It’s only me. Also a room with a bed,” he lowered his hands and walked toward you, “and a closed door.”

“Very observant, love,” you laughed lightly as he stood before you. “Should I not worry about you?”

“Why should you?” Eragon inquired, linking his arms around your hips slowly.

“You have that look in your eyes.”

“What look?” Thumbs created circles along your skin, causing chills to run up your back.

“Your ‘I can be in your arms all night and day’ look. Have I been away from you that long?” You teased.

“We’re not needed for anything important today.”

“I should hope not.” You kept your shirt close to your chest, keeping in warmth.

“No one knows I’m here except you.”

“Eragon,” you sighed, “if you’re going to do anything, why do you insist on voicing observations instead of asking for a kiss when we both know you want one?”

“Only thinking of you.” Eragon’s arms tightened their hold. “May I have your kiss? And many kisses after?”

“You certainly may.”

Time slowed as lips met. Hands roamed to where skin lay uncovered on the other they loved most. Top-most outerwear, however clean, met in a small pile atop of a wooden desk. A series of kisses and shared breathes kept the pair of you busy, an activity neither declared a bother as others.

How long were the two of you to enjoy the benefits of love while life continue outside the quarters?

No telling, not when Eragon’s hands splayed across your back with little intention of leaving.

~~~

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Best wishes and happy reading.)

~~~~~

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[sequinsmile-x]

Mirror Image

He was sure when their daughter was older he’d love her wilfulness, the stubborn streak she’d got from both of them. They were traits that would help her when she needed them, things that had served both him and Emily well. 

But right now, he really just wanted her to eat her breakfast. 

-x-

This is a belated birthday present for the lovely @whitecrossgirl. You are the ultimate hype woman and I will forever be grateful for your friendship and the way you yell at me when I write something angsty <3

-x-

Words: 2.8k

Warnings: Pregnancy

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

“Daddy, you’re doing it wrong.” 

Aaron sighs and looks up from the plastic Frozen plate he’d put his daughter’s toast onto, and he looks at his three-year-old, his eyebrow raised as he looks at her across the kitchen counter. 

“Alice, it’s toast. I don’t think it’s possible to get it wrong,” he says patiently, cutting it into strips for her before he places it in front of her. 

“Mommy does it different,” she says, looking up at him with the same wide dark eyes she’d inherited from his wife, “She lets me have her toast.” 

Aaron frowns, his lack of sleep from the last several days catching up with him as he tries to understand what his daughter is telling him, “So, you eat Mommy’s toast for breakfast?”

Alice nods enthusiastically, and Aaron groans, recalling just a week ago as he watched his little girl eating toast off of Emily’s plate. Something he hadn’t thought about every other morning Emily had been away because breakfast had been bowls of cereal, Alice and Jack had talked him into the sugary stuff more than once, before he got them out of the house for school. 

It wasn’t that he couldn’t manage his children, but Emily’s absence was sharply felt by all of them. She was in London helping Clyde with a case, a favour Aaron knew from the nightly phone calls he had with her she regretted agreeing to, and wasn’t coming home for another two days. He missed her, wasn’t used to being in their home without her, and he knew both Alice and Jack felt the same way. 

Alice, however, had struggled the most. 

As soon as they found out Emily was pregnant with her they had conversations about what that would mean for both of them continuing working for the BAU. Ultimately, Emily decided that she would find something different. She only became more sure that was something she wanted to do when they found out they were having a daughter, as if it became all the more clear to her that she didn’t want to repeat the cycle she’d grown up in. Ultimately, either through good timing or Clyde interfering, Aaron knew which one he considered more likely, a position at the Interpol office in DC came up and she took the job. 

It had been a change for all of them, and he missed spending so much time with his wife, but it had been a good one. Made clear whenever he’d come home from a long case to find his family all curled up on the couch and waiting for him. An understanding smile on Emily’s face as they silently agreed they’d talk about whatever horror he’d seen later before the kids jumped on him, thrilled to have him back. Emily being away was different. The job Clyde had found, or created, for her was mostly office based. She had a large team who did the majority of the fieldwork and on the odd occasion she went away it was only for a night or so. This, by the time she got home, would be a week. The longest she had ever been away from Alice since she was born, and the little girl had struggled with it. 

Everything he did was ‘wrong’ or ‘not how mommy does it.’ He knew it wasn’t personal, that Alice loved him, but she had been all about Emily since the moment she was born. A tiny dot of a thing that would only sleep curled up on her mother’s chest and cried if she was taken too far away from her. 

He couldn’t blame his daughter. His wife was his favourite person too, but it meant he’d spent the vast majority of the last week trying to convince a mini version of his wife to do things she didn’t want to do. He was sure when their daughter was older he’d love her wilfulness, the stubborn streak she’d got from both of them. They were traits that would help her when she needed them, things that had served both him and Emily well. 

But right now, he really just wanted her to eat her breakfast. 

He sighs and leans down next to her, his elbows on the kitchen counter as he makes himself her height, “Sweetheart, Mommy isn’t here,” he says, his heart aching a little at the sadness in her eyes, “So I can’t make you her toast.” 

She sighs as if she has the weight of the world on her shoulders and looks down at the, rapidly cooling, toast he put in front of her before looking back up at him, “You can make Daddy’s toast?”

“Sure,” he says, standing back up and picking up the bread before slipping another slice into the toaster, “Daddy’s toast coming right up.” 

He smiles as his daughter beams at him, and he shakes his head. He was counting down the seconds until his wife came home.

___

Emily groans as she sits in her seat, immediately having to readjust to get the tiniest bit comfortable, her hand on her ever-expanding stomach as she settles down. The next 8 hours were going to be long. She could barely sleep on a commercial flight at the best of times, let alone when she was 6 months pregnant, but she was looking forward to getting home and seeing Aaron and the kids. She knew she’d miss them, but she was surprised by how much, by how it felt like she’d left a part of herself at home.

She supposed, in some way, she had.

It was still strange to think that this was her life now. That she had roots so deeply anchored into the ground back home that she felt unsteady when she was away from her family. It was something she had grown up without. Something she’d had to get used to when she and Aaron first got together. The sense of belonging that she had searched for in all the wrong places her entire life. She wanted to provide it for Jack, Alice and the little boy she was currently carrying, and she never wanted them to doubt for one moment that they were loved. 

At first, she’d almost turned Clyde down for this trip, unsure if she wanted to go or, if she was honest, if he was just asking her to go over to mess with her. Ever since she’d turned down his initial job offer for London he’d make jokes about how he’d get her over there one day, how she’d get bored of family life, of the extraordinary ordinary day-to-day she coveted, and come crawling back to him. 

Aaron, despite the fact he did not appreciate those jokes from her old boss and friend, gently encouraged her to go. His hand on her bump as he reminded her it would be a while before she would get the chance to go again. 

She’d enjoyed herself. She’d laughed at Clyde as she told him, with a completely straight face, that she was going to name her son after him and watched his horrified reaction before she told him she’d never dream of actually doing it. She’d done some good with the team there, bringing them up to par with her own team at home. She’d had a taste of the life she could have had, and it made her all the more grateful for what she was about to go back to. 

“Good thing I booked first class, huh?” She whispers, rubbing her bump, smiling as she feels her son shift under her skin, “I don’t think there would be enough room for both of us in a regular seat, sweet boy.” 

“I was just about to offer you a cocktail for take off,” the air steward says, smiling at Emily as she looks up at her, “But I can see that won’t be necessary.” 

Emily chuckles politely and runs her hand over her belly again, “No,” she says, looking at the tray of mimosas with some envy, “Not this time anyway.” 

“Can I get you anything else, ma’am?” 

Emily smiles at the other woman, her unending cheeriness seemingly catching, “Actually, I would kill for a soda, a Diet Coke or something,” she says, sighing at just the thought of it, “My husband is a bit crazy when it comes to my nutrition, so I’d best make the most of it before I land back at home.” 

She knew Aaron meant well. That his attempts to sneak fruit and vegetables into her food with the same tricks they used on their toddler were only because he cared, and that it was something he could control, but it was driving her insane. He’d done the same thing when she was pregnant with Alice and it had led to an argument where he’d apologised with Del Taco, approaching her in their bedroom like she was a lion in its enclosure that he was offering food to. 

Thankfully he’d been a little more chilled out this time around.

“I’ll get that for you right away,” the air stewardess says before turning around and heading back towards the kitchenette. 

Emily smiles as she settles back into her seat a little more, grateful for the extra room, and she chuckles as the baby kicks particularly hard. 

“You’re not going to let me get any sleep are you?” 

___

By the time she picks up her luggage, she’s exhausted. 

A kind man lifts her bag from the carousel for her and she thanks him, yawning as she wheels it away and towards the arrival lounge. She’s idly thinking about getting a cup of tea before she gets her Uber when she hears a familiar voice shouting, stopping her from walking any further.

“Mommy!” 

She turns to see Alice running towards her, Jack and Aaron just a few paces behind, her little arms outstretched. Her wild hair is tied back in two braids, and she’s wearing an FBI t-shirt Derek had bought her as well as a bright pink tutu and leggings from Penelope. Emily immediately feels the burn in the back of her throat as she looks at her family, her eyes filling with tears she will absolutely blame on the baby and not on the fact they’d all made her soft. 

“Hi, sweet girl,” she exclaims, letting go of the handle of her suitcase and bending down just enough to pick up Alice as she reaches her, the little girl's arms tight around her neck. She picks her up, wincing slightly at the pull in her back as she straightens up. Alice hugs her tightly, perched on top of Emily’s bump, and she hugs her back just as fiercely. She kisses the side of her daughter's head, tension she didn’t realise was in her chest dissipating at the familiar scent of her shampoo, “I missed you so much.” 

“Missed you, Mommy,” Alice says, her face pressing into her mother’s neck, “You were gone for so long.”

Emily holds her a little tighter, guilt she hadn’t known was possible before she became a parent and work caused her to miss one of Jack’s soccer games burning at the inside of her chest. It felt like no matter what she was doing the wrong thing. As if she was somehow letting her children down. In moments like this, she wondered how her mother pushed through it. If she’d spent years perfecting how not to be affected by not showing up to dance or piano recitals or even school presentations. 

Sometimes, she wondered if her mother ever felt it at all. 

“Mommy’s home now though,” Aaron says as he reaches them, his arm around Emily as he leans in for a kiss, winking as he pulls away to let her know they were all fine, her emotions are clear as day to him, just as his exhaustion was clear to her. He places his hand on her bump, smiling at the feeling of the baby moving. “Hi, sweetheart.” 

“Hi,” she says back to him, kissing him once more, “I was supposed to get a cab.” 

He hums, raising his eyebrow at her, “Yeah, because I was going to let my pregnant wife get a cab home from the airport. Garcia would never have forgiven me.” 

She laughs before turning her attention to Jack, “Hi honey, are you ok?” 

He nods enthusiastically as he wraps his arms around her other side, sandwiching her in between all the members of her family, “Missed you, Mom.” 

She adjusts Alice to remove an arm from around her so she can pull her oldest in closer for a hug, smiling as Alice grasps even tighter at her as if she was trying to climb under her skin, “You too.” 

They stand there for a moment before Aaron is the first to detach, he nods towards Alice, “Want me to take her?” 

Emily shakes her head, “I can carry her to the car.” 

Whether he agrees with her or not, he nods and reaches for the handle of her suitcase, “Come on,” he says, leading the way towards the parking garage, “Let’s get Mom home.” 

___

Aaron walks out of the ensuite after he finishes his nightly routine and into the master bedroom. He stops just shy of the bed when he sees Alice curled up in the middle of it, the toddler fast asleep and her arm thrown over Emily, her small hand resting over her baby brother. 

“I seem to remember putting her in her own bed only a couple of hours ago,” he says quietly, his smile widening as Emily looks up at him, her own smile shy. 

“She snuck in when you were in the bathroom,” Emily replies, running her hands through the toddler’s hair, “I didn’t want to send her back to her room.” 

Aaron shakes his head fondly as he climbs into bed next to them, “If I’m being honest, she slept in here every night you were gone,” he admits, looking at Alice as she sleeps, “On your side of the bed. She missed you.” 

Emily blows out a slow breath as she continues to play with the little girl's hair, “I missed her too,” she replies, smiling at her husband, “All of you.” 

He watches her carefully, how there’s tension in her jaw. A slight tremble to her chin. And a look in her eyes that she only let him see, a vulnerability that she couldn’t keep hidden from him if she tried. 

“Are you ok, sweetheart?” 

She sighs, “Yeah, I’m ok. It’s just…” she drifts off, not entirely sure how to put it into words, “I guess I got a taste of what my life could have been if I’d taken Clyde’s offer,” she says, “And it would have been great. I would have been happy there but it wouldn’t have been this. I can’t imagine my life without you and Jack,” she looks back down at Alice, “or her,” she laughs humourlessly, her spare hand resting on her belly, “Or him. It’s like I saw the other side of the coin or something. And I feel a little…” 

“Off balance?” He offers as she struggles to finish her sentence, and she nods as she looks back up at him. 

“Yeah,” she replies, “Quite literally actually, I think my centre of gravity shifted yesterday,” she narrows her eyes, “Clyde kept saying I was waddling.” 

“I could punch him, if you want,” he offers, placing his hand on her stomach.

She laughs, “You’d fly all the way there to hit him for me?” 

He nods without hesitating, “I’d do anything for you.” 

She shakes her head at him, her teeth digging into her lower lip and she places a hand on his cheek, pulling him in for a kiss, “I love you. I’m so glad this is my life. I wouldn’t want it any other way. Even if our son is making me waddle.” 

“I love you too,” he says, stamping another kiss against her lips, “And you’re beautiful,” he leans down to press a kiss to her belly, doing the same to Alice’s forehead before he sits back up, “I’m glad this is our life too.” 

She smiles at him and leans into his side as he wraps his arm around her, careful not to disturb Alice as she moves, “So…she gave you hell, huh?”

Aaron groans and kisses the side of her head, “Like you wouldn’t believe.” 

She chuckles, “And the outfit at the airport?”

“You’re lucky I talked her down to the tutu,” he says, running his hand up and down her arm, “She wanted to wear her dinosaur costume.” 

Emily smiles as she looks down at their daughter, fast asleep between them, “We have got to talk to Pen about the number of costumes she buys her. Alice was ok though? Apart from sleeping in here and running you ragged?”  

He hums in response, “Well, she definitely has your attitude,” he says, smiling when she gasps in outrage, “I just hope that she uses it to be a CEO or something, not the leader of a gang in prison.” 

She sits up to look at him, her eyebrows furrowed together, “Hey,” she exclaims, lightly slapping the shoulder she’d been leaning against, “She would run an excellent gang.” 

-x-

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[headcans-oneshots-and-stuff]

A sweet life

Fandom: DC Pairing: Baby!Batsis x Batfamily Word count: 1.2k Summary: A little excerpt of a day of baby!batsis lifes and all the sweetness Requested by a sweet, fluffy Anon: Are they requests open if so can u write a batfam x baby!batsis reader like something fluff you decide

Our story begins on a nice, sunny morning in Gotham city - a morning that had a rare feeling of peace and calm to it - and in the bedroom of local billionaire and vigilante Bruce Wayne in Wayne Manor. Only a few of the golden sunrays found their ways through the almost closed blinds and landed on the man himself, laying on his back on the mattress with one arm stretched out beside him and the other protective wrapped around the little bundle that was laying on his chest - snoring ever so quietly. Y/N Wayne, newest and youngest addition to the family, would usually be found here in the mornings, even if the evening before she was brought to bed in her own room only a few doors away by one of her family members. It was a lovable, if maybe sometimes a bit frustrating for Alfred, trait that Bruce could not help himself but take the sleeping Y/N to his room when he came home from patrol and saw her lying there in her crib. He just wanted to feel her warmth, know that she was safe and protected at his side, that he would be there to keep her away from all the darkness and the horrors he experienced everyday in this cruel world. It was rather fortunate that over all the years of training and fighting Bruce has build up a habit of staying completely still in his sleep and it seemed that Y/N had somehow inherited that, because she too was always completely still - except for the occasional wiggle - on his chest - both things that helped calm Alfred down slightly every time he thought about what would happen if Bruce turned unluckily in his sleep and she’d be crushed or thrown off the bed (not that that had or would ever happen). But, no matter how often he advocated that she had to learn to sleep alone sooner rather than later, Alfred couldn’t find it in him to actually tell Bruce to let her be in her own bed, so the routine stayed steady and Y/n always woke up on her fathers chest. Or rather that she was woken up. Because, just like Bruce who came to her at night to make sure if she was okay - only to take her with him - Alfred, who was unsurprisingly always awake first, no matter what was going on, quietly made his way into the room to make sure Y/N had survived this night as well. And, as if she could sense him coming him, Y/N’s cute half-squeal-half-yawn made him aware of her now awake state so - seeing as Bruce needed all the sleep he could get and he wanted some time with his granddaughter as well - Alfred did the same he did almost every morning and pulled Y/N out of Bruce’s embrace, exchanging her with a pillow so that Bruce wouldn’t wake up, and went with her to her own room while she was slowly waking up completely. When they had arrived in the room Y/N was completely awake and squealing in happiness at Alfred’s funny faces he pulled to entertain her a little bit. “How about we’ll get you ready and get you some breakfast after, does that sound good?” The only answer Alfred got, and needed, was your happy giggle as she clapped her chubby, little hands together. As always, Y/N (who was used to that interaction by now) tried to help as much as she could as Alfred changed her diapers and put her in a cute onesie with a bee-pattern, before picking her up and carrying her through the manner. In the kitchen he fed her, letting himself be a little more playful as he played the airplane-game with her spoon, delighted by the little giggles and the gigantic smile on her face. After that Alfred went to clean the small amount of dishes he had used to prepare Y/N’s food, thinking about what to do after, only to turn around and find her chair empty and the sound of steps that definitely belonged to a certain little demon. Sighing, Alfred shook his head but decided to let Damian have that win and get on with his daily tasks, knowing that her brother would take good care of Y/N. Damian, who was glad that he had been able to ‘abduct’ his baby-sister without her making a sound - something that he had spent weeks training her for - knew it was all worth it when she smiled up at him and raised her hand to pat his cheek. Happily entertaining her with peek-a-boo, Damian showed his softer, kinder side that had mainly developed thanks to Y/N’s presence in his life, before going to the entrance room where her stroller was standing and - like he had sensed it - Titus came padding towards Damian and Y/N with his tail wiggling happily. “You wanna take titus out for a walk?” Damian asked her seriously, even though he knew not to expect an answer, before helping her into a cute coat, shoes (even though she wasn’t walking yet) and a cute self-knitted hat by Martha Kent, strapping her into her stroller and getting Titus on his leash (which was more for the public eye than the actual use, because Titus was very well behaved with Damian and Y/N). The trip to the park was a pleasant one, not a lot of people were out so he didn’t have to worry about being talked to or someone coming to close to his sister, and Y/N seemed to be delighted by everything around her, especially once when inside the park her eyes landed on a familiar person. “Grayson, what are you doing here?” Damian asked, already annoyed at the prospect of his brother taking Y/N over. “Alfred told me you were off with the little one and I guessed you’d be here. Me and Barbara wanted to take her to buy some new clothes.” “She has enough clothes already, doesn’t she?” “Uhm..Well, I mean-” Dick scratched his neck, aware that he was caught, “-She’s going to grow bigger soon, so…” Damian sighed, aware that he didn’t have much choice, no matter how stupid Dick’s reasoning was, and rolled his eyes. So Damian said his goodbyes to Y/N and gave Dick the stroller before going back on his way to the Manor. Dick brought the little one to his car, strapped her into the baby-seat and drove to the mall where Barbara was already waiting for the two of them, happily taking her favorite ‘niece’ onto her lap as Dick took the liberty of rolling her wheelchair through the mall and through all the cute little baby stores where they bought two bags worth of clothes, toys and other baby-things for Y/N who kept on being her excited, happy self until she got tired and fell asleep in Barbara's arm. Later that day, when they had brought her back to the Manor where Cass was already waiting to watch Y/N’s favorite cartoons with her and when Tim came home in the evening he managed to win himself the right to put his little sister to bed and read her a story. And then, the cycle began again. Soon Bruce would come home from Patrol and everything would start again. All in all, Y/N’s life was pretty sweet and she herself sweetened the lives of her family in return.

[tennessoui]

So I love your keeping up with the Skywalker/Kenobis au😍!!! It's adorable and it makes me so happy to read aaaand I wanted to ask what you think Satine's reaction is to Obi Wan basically getting himself a husband two kids and a dog like 2 months after she's left him? Like if they randomly ran into each other and Obi Wan is with his whole family and is carrying Leia, while holding Luke's hand and Luke is holding the dogs leash, while Anakin is I dunno monologing about something as he usually does

hi!!!! thank you so much for the prompt i love it <3 I thought a really long time about this prompt because I kind of knew what I wanted to do but I also didn't want to throw satine's character under the bus to accomplish it because i think from what Obi-Wan's told us about his marriage she's completely justified to want a divorce, so she's not necessarily a jealous ex in this snippet. But she's sort of angry, which i feel is fair!! i also (for reasons we will hopefully see tomorrow) changed your 'two months' to '3 years', so this happens 2 years after the Skywalkers move in, which is one yearish after the divorce! mostly because Something Else happens about 2 years after the Skywalkers move in and I have an ask cooling in my inbox asking about That that i want to answer tomorrow and these two felt like they fit together

(big sigh)(2.5k)(this is Obi-Wan's POV so its a bit pretentious and also a bit sad)

It’s a very strange thing, what the body remembers but the mind forgets.

“Obi-Wan?” A tentative voice asks from his left, and he knows that voice intimately. That voice had been at one time the most beautiful sound in the entire world. That voice had been what he heard before going to sleep, what he waited on tenterhooks to hear upon waking. He’d heard that voice cry, scream, laugh, gasp, moan--he knows that voice, and for a second his body responds the way it always has to that voice.

Butterflies erupt in his stomach and he turns to look at Satine for the first time in almost three years.

“Satine,” he says and clears his throat and tries again. “Hello there.”

She smiles delicately, as if she’s unsure of her welcome. Obi-Wan’s never seen Satine shy, but he supposes he’s never seen how she acts around her ex-husband.

He surreptitiously glances to where Anakin and the twins are standing in line at an ice cream truck. It had been a nice day, so they had bundled the kids and the dog into Anakin’s car and gone to the city park with loose ideas about kite flying. Perhaps a picnic.

Perhaps twenty yards from the parking lot, Leia had spotted an ice cream truck from her perch on Obi-Wan’s shoulders, and the twins had successfully convinced Anakin to make a quick pit stop on their way up the park’s central hill. It had been a very easy sell. The sweet tooth is most definitely inherited, and nothing Obi-Wan really shares, so he had taken Chewie and gone to sit on a near park bench, graciously pretending not to hear Anakin tell his children to let the old man rest.

That had only been five minutes ago.

“Would you like to sit?” Obi-Wan asks politely, gesturing to the part of the bench he’s not taking up.

“If you have the time,” Satine responds just as politely. Obi-Wan wonders if this sort of false veneer of courteousness is putting her teeth on edge as much as his.

Do you remember how you left? Would you like me to recall the amount of things thrown by you, or would you like to do the honors? He imagines saying.

Only if you would be so gracious as to recite the long list of things you called me, he can imagine Satine responding.

That sort of conversation would be better than this. More honest. It’s a strange hurt, to realize you’re lying to the person you used to think you’d always be truthful to.

“Oh,” Satine says when Chewie immediately starts sniffing at the hem of her dress. “Is this...your dog?”

Obi-Wan fights the urge to wince. He had. Well. He had been quite against getting a dog when they’d been married. Or a cat. Or anything, really. He had vehemently protested the idea of a pet.

Of another living thing in their house.

“Ah,” he says. “Yes. His name is Chewie.”

Satine pets him with just the right amount of pressure to have Chewie tilting his head eagerly for more. “Chewie?” she asks incredulously. “I always figured we would have to name any dog or--child after some sort of literary figure.”

Obi-Wan pretends he doesn’t notice her hesitation. He has to pretend he doesn’t notice her hesitation. “I originally wanted to name him Dante,” he admits instead. “Leia compromised down to Danny, but I just couldn’t do that to the poor dead man.”

“Oh,” Satine says and then she’s quiet. Obi-Wan can just imagine the sort of things running through her head. He would deserve all the mean-spirited barbs she could throw at him now. He reminds himself that he understands that.

I hadn’t thought you knew how to do that, he imagines her saying. Compromising, I mean.

Or, does the dog hair everywhere drive you as crazy as you used to say it would?

Or, perhaps worst of all, how much has your library of dead mean kept you comfort these last three years?

Instead she gently strokes the dog’s head and refuses to make eye contact with Obi-Wan.

“You look well,” he says, breaking the silence first. He thinks she’s probably put in enough work in speaking first for a lifetime.

“Thank you,” Satine responds, tucking a piece of her ash blonde hair behind her ear. Obi-Wan catches a glint of a ring on her finger from the action. He doesn’t know if it was purposeful or not, doesn’t blame her either way. It’s been three years. Their lives are their own now. There’s always going to be those years where they...converged, and Obi-Wan isn’t sure he regrets them. He might never regret them, no matter what he thought shortly after the papers were mailed in.

After all, he’d never have met the Skywalkers if it wasn’t for the divorce.

“You as well,” Satine says, crossing her ankles. It’s her version of a fidget, Obi-Wan thinks fondly, and then wonders if he’ll ever forget that sort of information.

He smiles. “Yes, I’m...well.” He coughs and glances over to the ice cream truck. Leia waves at him from where she’s curled into Anakin’s chest, very near the front of the line. Anakin and Luke are looking at Obi-Wan with almost the same expression of pinched worry. Anakin most probably because he knows who Satine is. Luke because the boy has gotten quite possessive of Obi-Wan’s attention in the last few months.

Obi-Wan smiles slightly to let them both know that he’s fine. “I’m very well,” he tells Satine, turning back to her.

“I’m very glad to hear that,” she says, and it sounds like the most honest thing she’s said this entire time.

“Thank you,” he responds, and that’s the most honest thing he’s said today too. He knows she won’t understand exactly what he means, but it feels nice to say it anyway. Thank you for the years we were happy. Thank you for leaving before we could really start hating each other. Thank you for the divorce. Thank you for the Skywalkers.

There’s very loud footsteps on the pavement and then suddenly a blond blur is clinging to Obi-Wan’s knee.

“Obi,” Luke says very reproachfully.

Obi-Wan automatically fixes the boy’s fringe. “Yes, little one?” he asks, very, very aware of the way Satine’s posture has shifted from almost relaxed to preparing for battle.

“Daddy wants to know if you want anything. He says they have those pop--pop--cycles that you like.”

Obi-Wan switches his attention away from Luke so that he can raise a very scathing eyebrow at Anakin, who shrugs as if butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. He had most certainly told Anakin that he was fine and that he didn’t want to spoil his lunch. Sending Luke over had not been a friendly check-in. It had been an invasion.

“I’m fine,” Obi-Wan tells Anakin’s son. “I don’t want to spoil my lunch.”

These words seem just as foreign to Luke as they did to his father, because he squints up at Obi-Wan before shrugging and clambering up into Obi-Wan’s lap.

“Who is she, Obi?” he asks, not quietly at all.

Obi-Wan sighs. And then resists the urge to sigh harder when he catches sight of Satine’s pinched face.

A thousand conversations rush back to him.

“My career has to come first, Satine.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“A child? At my age?”

“It’s Obi-Wan, not Obi.”

“I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready, dear. Our lives would change. Fundamentally. We’d have to compromise, we’d have to figure out a way to be there for them whenever they needed it. I know people manage. But would we?”

“Don’t--”

“I’m sorry, darling. I don’t want children.”

“Don’t call me Obi.”

He understands perfectly why Satine looks as if someone has just fed her half a lemon. He does.

She’s run into her ex-husband at the park and settled in to have a civil conversation with the man, only to see that he owns a dog (which he had been against when they were together), has a child (Luke isn’t his, of course, but he can understand the confusion), and lets that child call him one of his most hated nicknames.

“Obi?” she asks, which is probably starting out small, something he is very grateful for.

“Who are you?” Luke asks more forcefully, gripping onto Obi-Wan’s shirt with his little hands. Of all the times for the boy to decide to speak up to strangers--

“I’m Satine,” Satine answers graciously. And then, “Who are you?”

“Luke,” the boy says, far less graciously. “Obi lives with us.”

“Us?” Satine asks, mostly to Obi-Wan. “You mentioned a...Leia earlier?”

“My sister,” Luke interrupts before Obi-Wan can, perhaps, explain the situation. “We’re twins.”

“Twins!” Satine gasps in a way that’s most definitely pointed and directed at Obi-Wan. “Obi, I hadn’t known you had twins!”

“I…” Obi-Wan starts to say that he doesn’t, but the twins have started shooting him very hurt looks every time he corrects strangers on the fact that the twins aren’t actually his. He’s mostly stopped correcting people now because Luke and Leia’s betrayed expressions are really, quite frankly, works of art.

“Obi-Wan!” a voice interrupts him to his right. It’s a familiar voice, one that he’s heard as he falls asleep, one he’s heard first thing in the morning, one he’s heard cry and yell and gasp and laugh, one he thinks to himself might just be one of the most beautiful sounds in the entire world.

Without his permission or even his consent, butterflies erupt in his stomach and he turns from Satine’s rigid expression to Anakin’s slightly manic grin.

“Anakin,” he says, standing immediately with Luke cradled in his arms.

“We got you the red popsicle because Luke never came back,” Anakin says, thrusting the icy treat forward as Leia tries to clamber on the bench to hand Luke his own chocolate-covered cone.

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan says, all thoughts about his appetite for lunch pushed out of his mind by the size of Anakin’s smile. “That’s very sweet of you.”

Anakin ducks his head and rubs at the back of his neck, his face turning red like Obi-Wan’s popsicle. Obi-Wan thinks he’s never been this hopelessly endeared in his entire life.

“I should be going,” Satine says suddenly, standing up. Obi-Wan is a bit ashamed to realize he has forgotten her in the wake of the arrival of the Skywalkers.

But he knows he should not leave like this. They deserve more than this stilted sort of interrupted conversation.

Gently, he sets Luke on the ground despite the boy’s protests and chases after his ex-wife.

“Satine, wait,” he pants as he catches up with her.

“What, Obi-Wan?” she asks, voice strained and eyes a bit wet. “What else do you want me to see? What else is there left? I get it, alright. I get it. It was never you--it wasn’t--it wasn’t that you didn’t want pets or kids or--or all of it. You just didn’t want them with me. It was me. All along.”

She turns away, wiping frantically at her eyes. Obi-Wan isn’t sure if he’s ever felt worse.

“No,” he insists, reaching out to touch her forearm, painfully aware of how public they are right now. “No, you’ve got it wrong. It’s not...it was never you. It’s just…”

He pauses and tries to find the words to describe the past three years of his life. That first year of despair and hopelessness and isolation. And then the way Anakin and his children had crept into his life like a summer sunrise in the dead of winter, unexpectedly and then slowly and then all at once.

Obi-Wan shrugs helplessly, at a loss for words. There’s no way to describe something like that to someone who hasn’t experienced it. “It’s just…them.”

Satine takes a few moments to breathe before she turns to face him. She’s smiling and it looks mostly like a grimace, but he’ll accept it as more than he deserves.

“Oh Obi-Wan,” she says, laying a hand over the hand he has on his arm. “You always had so many rules.”

Obi-Wan fights the urge to bristle, reminding himself that Satine has the right to say anything she wants to him today and the amount of hurts they’ve dealt each other still probably wouldn’t be even.

It takes him completely by surprise then when she hugs him. He hugs her back automatically, blinking stupidly further into the park.

“I’m glad you’ve found your exceptions,” she whispers to him as she pulls back with a sad smile.

“Satine,” he says, but he doesn’t know where he’s going with that and falls silent. She shakes her head and rolls her eyes, leaning in to press a featherlight kiss to his bearded cheek.

“Glad to know I can still make you speechless,” she tells him wryly.

“Always,” he promises her, and she laughs. Obi-Wan is suddenly struck with a sort of gut-wrenching realization that she used to be his best friend as well as his wife. He had lost both in one fell swoop.

“I think I just put you in a world of trouble,” she smirks, tilting her head back down the path. “Your partner doesn’t look very happy.”

“He’s not my--” Obi-Wan starts to say and then decides fuck it. He shrugs. “It was nice to see you again, Satine. I hope. I. I really am glad that you’re doing well.”

Satine smiles and squeezes his hand once before letting go. “You too, Obi-Wan. You too.”

When he gets back to his family, Anakin is staring intensely down at his shoes, while Luke and Leia are glaring just as intensely up at Obi-Wan.

“Who was that?” Leia demands immediately.

“Satine,” Luke relays to her, as if the word means one hundred terrible and tragic things.

“An old friend,” Obi-Wan corrects. “We haven’t seen each other in a while. I just...I just wanted to say goodbye.”

“Did you?” Anakin asks, strangely intent as he looks down at Obi-Wan’s face.

“I did,” Obi-Wan tells him. It sounds like a promise. Yes, seeing Satine had been a peculiar twist of fate, but it had felt like a goodbye. To her. To the last vestiges of their marriage. To the man he had been when he had been in love with her.

The realization feels like it should hurt, but it doesn’t. Instead of ruminating on it though, he holds his hand out to Luke’s sticky fingers. “Shall we?” he asks, as Anakin falls into place on his other side, Leia held firmly in his arms. “It’s a fairly large hill, are you sure you’re up for it?”

“Yes!” Luke insists enthusiastically, all thoughts of the blonde woman his Obi had been talking to immediately forgotten.

“Perhaps by the time we get to the top, we’ll be prepared for lunch,” Obi-Wan tells Anakin wryly. The other man laughs, but his eyebrows stay pinched. Obi-Wan has the strangest desire to kiss them smooth, to lean over and kiss Anakin’s face until he’s blushing and laughing and light as he knows he can be.

But it’s very obviously not the time and place. Such a step forward needs both a proper time and place. After all, you may have multiple loves of your lives, but you only ever kiss each of them for the first time once. And Obi-Wan is pretty sure he’s only got the two; he’s not looking to mess this one up.

[shreddedleopard]

Thoughts on chapter 137, and why it makes complete sense and cements the themes and lessons of Attack on Titan.

I have so many thoughts, I just want to word vomit them out at a million miles an hour, but I’ll try to do this in some sort of order and not my usual chaotic mess.

Attack on Titan is about family and belonging, and THIS is the dream that Ymir was drunk on. This is ‘that scenery.’

Ymir, the founder, just wants to belong somewhere. With someone. She wants to be loved and valued as a person, not as a slave; not as someone who merely fulfils a role. In the latest chapter, Zeke explains how he failed to understand her, but Eren did.

Look at Eren’s words to Ymir in this moment, several chapters earlier:

All Ymir has ever wanted is to be held. To be loved like a person. To feel that connection because of who she is, not the role she fulfils.

Eren understands this, in contrast to Zeke, who once again tries to impose her role upon her:

Ymir has been hanging around in paths all this time, unable to fully die and let her consciousness pass on to the next world, because she needs to find this thing that she’s been searching for since the start of the story.

It’s not just about romantic love. It’s about connection. That sense of being understood and belonging with someone else, whether that be romantically, platonically, as family ... we keep seeing the same theme brought up throughout the entire manga.

Who else is a character that constantly searches for the same thing? Mikasa.

She has so many parallels and yet also opposites with Ymir. Ymir is told she is a slave, she obeys the king, that is her role. And she accepts it. Because she believes that it’s the only way to find happiness; to find this belonging she’s been craving. However, unlike Ymir, who does not truly love the king, I believe that Mikasa does truly love Eren - what form that takes doesn’t necessarily matter to me at this point. It’s just about connection.

Whether Eren feels the same, tragically for him, doesn’t matter. Because Eren knows he is destined to be the one to end the cycle of hatred and free Ymir. And that will ultimately cost him his life. That is why, when Zeke asks him what he will do about Mikas’s affections - which have nothing to do with her bloodline and everything to do with him - Eren cannot answer. That choice has sadly been taken from him.

When Eren asks Mikasa what she is to him, I think he genuinely wants to know at that point. I think he cares about her so deeply and wants to know she feels the same way, and it’s not just about him being ‘her saviour’. But as we’ve seen before, Eren cannot afford to stop for too long and dwell in the moment, because he must push on towards freedom - the freedom of Ymir and the Eldian people from the curse of the Titans.

This brings his conversation around the table with Armin, Mikasa and Gabi into a whole new light. Eren insults his friends in an attempt to push them away from him - because he knows he won’t be around to live that ‘long, happy life’ with them. So instead, he wants to push them to confront their feelings in the arms of others. He pushes Armin to really consider what Annie means to him, and for Mikasa, I believe that Eren intends her to perhaps look towards Jean, who is truly willing to give her the love she has always sought from Eren. Because again, so tragically, Eren will not be around to provide that for her - regardless of whether it’s something he wants or not. His own wishes no longer matter on the path he has been set upon.

Back to Ymir. Eren tells her, he will put an end to this world:

He doesn’t mean the human world; the living world. He means the world of paths, where Ymir is trapped, unable to let go of the souls of dead Eldians, because she’s still searching for that connection she craves so much. Her paths world is an attempt to quell that feeling of loneliness she’s been plagued with, but ironically, she’s more lonely than ever, stuck there, serving the bloodline she’s created from a place of misery and duty, rather than love.

The rumbling and the destruction of Marley is a very tragic consequence of what Eren has to do to put an end to the curse of the Titans. He’s searched for another way to no avail; we’ve seen his remorse when he apologises to Halil or Ramsey in chapter 131:

I think the anger and devastation that’s unleashed in the rumbling, is a result of the hurt and mistreatment both Eren and Ymir have felt at points in their lives.

Eren understands that to destroy the paths realm, first this devastation is necessary, because he’s seen it in his future memories, despite the conflicting feelings it’s evoked from him - he doesn’t really want to destroy humanity outside of the walls, but his own future is telling him that he must and he will. But it’s not Eren’s emotions that drive this initial destruction - it is Ymir’s. These emotions are no different in nature than the ones that Eren felt in response to Armin’s childhood bullies - that sense of unfairness and need to lash out at oppressors - but tragically, unlike Eren who in that moment of intense, irrational emotion had only his fists to vent and release, Ymir is in possession of one of the most terrible and destructive weapons there is - hordes of colossal Titans. And in that moment where Eren finally gives her that validation she has been searching for, and allows her that feeling of release from the duty she’s felt she needed to fulfil for thousands of years, Ymir releases that frustration and anger too and sends them walking.

This theme of the oppressor and oppressed switching places in an endless cycle of revenge and stealing from others what has been stolen from you is a theme that we see repeated throughout not only the AOT manga, but also soundtrack and additional content too.

Eren was right that it would be Armin that saves humanity - because Armin is the one that makes the connection in paths - he understands what is being shown to him with the leaf - and tragically, it actually highlights how, even up until the very end, Eren and Armin knew each other very well. Eren trusted Armin to make sense of what he’s had to do - even if it’s only Ymir that he understands, because while Eren is the one to give Ymir her freedom and unleash this terrible devastation, Armin is the one who must stop it.

But how does this idea of family and connection tie in to the rest of the events in the chapter, and wider manga, and what’s up with Historia’s pregnancy? And how is paths going to be destroyed, if the rumbling has been stopped and Ymir is free, but the Titans are still around?

This is where the rest of our cast fit in - namely Zeke, Levi, Historia and Reiner. If my theory is correct.

Eren gave Ymir the validation she needed and that sense of connection, freeing her from her role, and this bought that final bit of time needed for Historia to give birth to her child. Why is Historia’s child important? Because it is the ‘new dawn’ we’ve seen foreshadowed repeatedly throughout the series. The birth of a new history. And this comes in the form of a new bloodline, no longer infected with ‘parasite’ of the founding Titan.

Unlike Ymir’s bloodline, which stemmed from a place of duty and slavery - as she was ordered by the king to take ‘his seed’, and carried the parasite of the creature that bound to her within the depths of the tree, creating the paths realm and an almost purgatory type space free of death or heaven or earth or anything, Historia’s bloodline will be ‘cleaned’ because of the genes of the child’s father. And not only this, it will be born out of a moment of love and connection, rather than duty. This new combination will make it impossible for a child of the royal bloodline to become a Titan. There will be no coordinate - no link for Ymir from her paths realm to the living world, because the last link to her bloodline - a Titan with royal blood - will no longer exist.

This really brings home the gravity of the moment where Levi cuts Zeke down - he’s the last of the royal Titans, but the reader knows Historia’s baby is about to be born - will they inherit the Titan, and the cycle will re-start?

They will not. The cycle will be broken with them, because - and here’s where it gets wild - Historia’s child is not a Fritz, or a Reiss - they are an Ackerman. They physically cannot turn.

Why does all this fit in symbolically? Let me draw your attention to the genre of Seikaikei.

Attack on Titan uses this idea with our two Ackermans.

We have both endings. Eren and Mikasa, our bittersweet ending, where Eren ultimately chooses the fate of humanity over his relationships with Mikasa and Armin, and Levi, who, in a moment of selfishness, allows himself to put aside his role for a night - probably at the railroad banquet, where he was supposed to be making sure the likes of Eren and Yelena were kept apart - and indulges in this connection that he’s formed with Historia. You can read my 10 reasons post if you want to for why the heck I would think these two would form a deep bond - it’s all there in the Uprising Arc. They have been the same as Ymir - yearning for a sense of love and connection, but bound by roles neither of them asked for or particularly wanted - reluctant heroes comes to mind. Remember how freckled Ymir’s parting wish was for Historia to live for herself?

The result is an accidental pregnancy which, ironically enough, is what is going to annihilate the curse of the Titans and save the world. How poetic that the Titans will not be ‘driven out’ by hate, violence, and destruction, but instead by love, connection and new life.

Remember Kenny and Uri’s miracle?

Kenny and Uri’s chapter, ‘Friends’, was exactly halfway back into the manga. History moves in repeating cycles in AOT, and we see things change slightly each time, on this journey to freedom. At this point, the Ackermans and royals were one step away from where they needed to get to in order to build this paradise - and Levi and Historia complete the cycle by becoming ‘lovers,’ tragically, the thing that Eren and Mikasa could not become, because Eren had to undertake the rumbling and be the one to free Ymir from her sorrow and loneliness. She can make the choice now - will she fight to be reborn as Historia’s child - fight for dominance with the Ackerman bloodline - or will she concede, finally laid to rest because the cycle has been broken by two people that love one another, just like the couple Ymir saw long ago and wished for.

Remember how Eren asked Zeke whether the ackermans act the way they do from a place of duty or genuine feelings? He needed to check it was the real deal that would break the curse, and finally lay Ymir to rest peacefully, after 2,000 years of hatred and searching. She will see that her descendant, Historia, finally has what she always dreamed of. That idea of dreams pushing us onwards - Ymir’s dream is realised through Historia and Levi.

As for the parasite itself? I believe Reiner will be the one to lock it in a Crystal prison with himself, deep underground.

A new dawn will come, and a new world will be built from the ashes of the old.

[softer-ua]

i can't be the only one who wants izuku to get fucking pissed at his situation, at all might, start questioning what the fuck is going on with OFA.

because if you're going to trust a fifteen year old with something like OFA and bind them to the life of a symbol, you do not get to withhold information. deku was not told he'd be dealing with an enemy like AFO when he got the quirk, nor was he told that basically its whole point was not fighting some vague concept of evil, but fighting a very tangible very dangerous villain. he wasn't told that up until all might, inheriting this power was guaranteed suicide, and even after all might you only have a vague chance of survival. to be offered such a life altering "gift", Izuku should have been warned of everything. from the start. and if not then then from the very moment izuku started seeing vestiges, or at least when AFO resurfaced. WHY IN GOD'S NAME WOULD YOU HIDE ANY, ANY BIT OF INFORMATION ON A QUIRK THAT IMPORTANT?????

no because, if you look at it cynically, All Might took this kid who had nothing and who looked up to him as effective god. He took this kid who he knew had no sense of no self-care or self-preservation. This extremely reckless kid who he saw putting his life at risk three times (sludge v1, hanging on to AM as he jumped, sludge v Katsuki) within 24 hours. He picked this kid who he knew would give everything (because Izuku had "nothing", and therefore nothing to lose) and "gifted" him with a ticking time bomb. Of course Izuku is willing to break himself if it means using OFA to max potential. So much of his self-worth is based on OFA. He's said time and time again he isn't sure if he deserves it, that it's a borrowed power. If you've taken this kid and given him everything practically overnight, of course he'll go to self-destructive lengths to prove himself worthy of it. Who'd want to go back to being nothing after all?

And this is a logical conclusion. Someone like Izuku, someone like All Might probably used to be in his youth and still kind of is, they're perfect to be put on this kind suicide mission. They're a perfect vessel. Sure they're heroic and brave and selfless, but most importantly they're willing to die for the cause. OFA the quirk knows this. Literally two seconds after Katsuki sacrifices himself telling Deku not to do shit alone, Deku renders said sacrifice useless by doing exactly what Katsuki warned him not to😭 And the quirk and vestiges encourage him. They don't give a shit about repercussions and Deku's chronic pain or possible arm paralysis. They just want to beat AFO. You go son you break those arms 🤠

Doesn't it all feel a little bit exploitative?

Look at it like this. A kid is born with no power. This kid wants to be great, but the world says he can't. He meets his hero, and the hero says he can't either. Then the kid acts heroic, but reckless. The hero sees an opening. This kid is good and doesn't care one bit about his well-being? Jackpot! He offers the kid a deal. Great power, an extraordinary gift at surface layer. But one with so many more hidden strings attached that hurt and break and haunt the kid, that he was never warned about or taught how to deal with. But he can always give it to someone else! Can he, really? Can he go back to being nothing? With a personality like his, well nope. And that's why you pick the overly selfless reckless ones. The ones that will feel indebted to you to a ridiculous degree.

Isn't it like dare I say... like a deal with the devil?

As we progress more and more into the lore of AFO and OFA, I can really see why Katsuki's started to view it as a cursed power. And with how wildly different from expectations (at least mine) + far more nuanced the Todofam drama has revealed itself to be compared to what it seemed upon first intro, I'm inclined to believe there's more to the OFA story than clean cut, young bro good guy vs mean big bro oppression.

TL;DR - All Might is the metaphorical devil jr who gave Izuku a passed down deal, and neither he nor broccoli boy read the fine print.

Bakugo’s ghost sent me this ask 💀

Lol but seriously, these are all excellent points and I’ve been sitting on this ask until I had time to answer it because you’re absolutely goddamn right

This shit is explotive af, and I’ve got a suspicion as to why

I don’t think Deku was a random choice, there’s a layer of fate/mystic woven into the bnha world that gets over looked.

Sir had insane fortune telling abilities that were never once wrong about anything except when it came to the 2 OFA users fates. Deku even specifically says he’ll smash any fate in his way, and I think on some level he knows he can because he has a different destiny.

The vestiges break him from Shinsos hold, meaning the can have some level of control over Dekus body. You think AM noticed every time something like that happened? AM didn’t even notice Bakugo internalizing all the blame for his retirement even after watching his mom force him to apologize for it??

“I keep forgetting that your still a child” AM, sir, this is the third time you’ve admitted out loud that you were just gonna let Bakugo suffer his own fate 💀 please stop indicting yourself and at least pretend you care about Bakugo outside his relationship to Deku jfc

Also what are the chances you get nine random holders and none of them turn out to be corrupt or at least too self serving to die for the cause??? Slimmer than the pages bnha is printed on.

There’s something pulling some strings here, and I think it’s the true power of First users quirk.

What would be the point of transferring a quirk if that’s it’s only power?

What would be the point of this quirk being essentially password locked?

What would be the point of this quirk being able to forced on to someone?

There’ wouldn’t be any.

But what if that’s not what the quirk is?

What if the quirk is actually passing something along, and that’s why it’s dna based, it’s the transfer of an integral part of them.

Something that would change a person if forced on them but would possibly eradicate someone if stolen. Something like a souls desire? That could be a dangerous thing to give to someone else especially if it’s something they didn’t want, now they suddenly have to?

Then you give this quirk a strength enhancing quirk?

Now it’s got some juice, how much stronger did it get? Can it sense others with a similar goal, can it make its host gravitate towards those people?

Is the firsts quirk purposely finding exploitable heros, like Nana AM and Deku. All people who were/are willing to give up everything for the cause. How much of the first is in there, how much sentient power does this quirk have?

We know that Nana gave up her family, her child, for the cause. AM never bothered cultivating a family and pushed away Sir and anyone else who is anti him dying, and now we’re seeing Deku do the same.

Deku who had no friends to begin with, a dad who’s out of the picture, and an already slightly strained relationship with his mom?

Is this quirk capable of learning? Does it know that having people you care about slows you down from sacrificing yourself?

Does this quirk compound with the other users goals make the drive stronger each time?

Idk but there’s a glimmer of hope that Deku isn’t doomed to be a glorified meat puppet, and it exists in the form of Kacchan.

No one else had someone so deeply rooted to them, who could fight right along side them. Bakugo is an outlier in this story, almost the exact opposite kind of hero OFA wants, his connection to Deku breaks the cycle.

Deku would never give up on Katsuki, and even if he tried Endeavor will start coughing up ice cubes before Bakugo lets him. He couldn’t leave Deku alone when he was convinced he hated him, there’s no way he’d do it now.

Dekus story will be different from the other users that’s for sure.

[moonlightwritesdisney]

GAMES. — Zed Necrodopolis

Pairing: Zed X FEMALE Reader

Requested: Yes / No

Requested By: @gummybee12 Thank you so much for being my first submission. Sorry for not posting immediately i recently transitioned semesters so i had too focus on school the past two weeks but i hope you enjoy it! Also, their might be an extensive part to this one-shot so please don’t be worried if it ends abruptly! 

Summary: When Y/N moved to SeaBrook she is warned by her friends to stay cautious of Zed, who’s only goal is to get with every girl and then drop them. One night at an annual zombie mash could change her expectations.

Prompt: #64 — “Your who they warned me about”.

Warnings: regular teens cursing. 

IT HAD BEEN ONE DAY SINCE ZED had called it quits with Addison. The blonde girl was utterly heart broken as she sobbed quietly in the beige colored stall in the SeaBrook High girl’s lavatory. Bree stood outside of the small stall consoling Addison and trying to comfort her sad friend. Bree’s arms crossed over her chest in annoyance she breathed out a huge huff and began slowly pacing around the sink area. “I’m going to kill him”. Bree spoke in a utter tone as her white teeth gritted together in anger at the thought of the green haired zombie.

Zed Necrodopolis. Everyone at SeaBrook knew the name if you’d ask they’d point you in the direction of the sly zombie who stood at 6’3 with vibrant green hair, piercing brown eyes and mahogany colored converse. He was your all average stuck up playboy. You’d either find him at raging house parties and annual zombie mashes completely sucking the face off some human girl in the corner while loud music blasted over the speaker, practically trying to get her clothes off.

 Zed arrived at SeaBrook High as transfers from zombie town along with other students almost 2 years ago, and since then the disgusting misogynistic peer pressures of being popular has taken over his mind. He had bright goals and ambitions to make SeaBrook a better place dude to the wide discrimination and violence against zombies — he had joined the football team, became student body president and from their, Y/N knew it was only a matter of time before her childhood best friend dissolved into the crowd.

Y/N was a hybrid. She was born to a human father and zombie mother, which at the time of her birth wasn’t a normal thing that was looked upon in the town of SeaBrook. She had human like features, her eyes, nose, teeth although her hair was born and curly the other half of her head was a vibrant neon green and she inherited a diamond shaped birthmark on her wrist. 

She learned from an early age how to stand up for herself due to growing up in an all human town and going to a human elementary school. The kids laughed and taunted her but scaring them off didn’t stop her. Instead of being forced to wear a bulky wrist band that has to be covered in plastic every time a zombie takes a shower, Y/N was given a green jeweled necklace handed down by generations in her family to help contain the full zombie impulse.

She and her family moved to SeaBrook back in the summer — which was about a month ago, on her first day she was utterly lost and couldn’t find her way around the school she soon befriended Addison and her friend Bree, who quickly accepted her with open arms. With Addison out of sight, who was still dating her at the time made sure to warn Y/N about Zed’s sick tendencies. “He just broke up with Zia about 3 weeks ago”. Bree told Y/N as she sat with her at lunch surrounded by Bree, Bonzo, Lacey, and Bucky. Y/N squinted at the laughter to green haired teens shared sitting at the back table in the cafeteria while eating lunch. 

Zed not failing to flirt and compliment Addison every second only causing her to swoon more and more. “He’s going to break her”. Bree spoke taking a bite of her pizza , to which the group murmured in agreement. “It’s only a matter of time before he continues the cycle so it’s best we all stay away from him — including you Y/N”. Bree tried to lecture but only earned a scoff from Y/N who rolled her eyes.

“Pfft, as if zombie boy over there even has a single chance”.

It had been three weeks since Zed had broken the blonde’s heart. The last bell for the hour rang as Y/N took her seat on the small wooden stool in the science class. The bell had rang and Y/N let out a content sigh pulling out her lime green spiraled notebook and a mechanical pencil. “Good Afternoon class”. Y/N’s eyes adverted to the welcoming voice of Mr. Eeurk, the science teacher who stood at about 5  feet and 9 inches with very pale skin and brown eyes a bright smile on his face as he walked over to his large desk and set down his leather bag taking a sip of his coffee. 

20 minutes had soon passed when Mr. Eeurk was lecturing the class about the plants cycle of photosynthesis. The large door creaked open as a tall built figure walked in flashing a shiny white smile. “Hey Mr Eeurk sorry i’m late i was using the bathroom!” Mr. Eeurk didn’t seem impressed - or amused at the fact that one of his careless students was late to class -- again.

“I don’t want to hear it Necrodopolis, take a seat and get out your worksheet”. Mr. Eeurk nonchalantly answered with his back turned to the 6 feet 4′ athlete reading the answer pages on his clipboard. Zed sighed and scanned the room for a place to sit his eyes met the eyes of the quiet and innocent looking students -- most of them the zombie knew because of his high popularity on school grounds, but some he did not.  

He smirked to  himself as he eyes down the candy that was Y/N. He didn’t care about anything except keeping his name in check which meant staking out the class for fresh meat. He was an asshole, which meant he cared about no one, only himself and his needs. 

Y/N had felt an unusual pit of wary grow in her stomach, a light finger tapped the upper right of her shoulder. Breaking her attention away from her science worksheet that she had almost finished she eyed a paled face boy who she had heard many things about. Y/N was smart, so she knew he was up to something the minute he batted his eyes innocently and said; 

“ can i sit here?”

he licked his lips and smiled like an angel. ‘So he thinks he’s really fooling me huh? Yeah not today dude.’  Y/N chuckles lightly and shakes her head picking up her finished worksheet. She gave him a moment of ambition and curious silence when she flashes a flirty smile and spoke, “no but you can go sit your ass in the back”. 

She giggled evilly as she watched the sly expression on the player’s face immediately drop to disappointment. He nodded slowly and pursed his lips not expecting the ‘ohs” and enjoying laughter from his football buddies and classmates. 

Y/N had stood up from her seat and slowly strutted up wards towards the small plastic paper box that laid on the teacher’s desk. Placing her completed paper in with a smile she made her way back to the small desk in silence. Zed’s eager eyes following her every move, he licked his dry lips in anticipation. Y/N however, smirked at her recent actions, proud of the rejection she gave the notorious fuckboy moments earlier. 

The time had somehow consumed her thoughts as the last school bell for the day finally rang as a release for the captive students. Packing up her things Y/N walked out of the science room and up the grey stairs of SeaBrook High feeling like she had just won a grammy. She chuckled swaying her hips as she made her way over toward’s Bree’s pink colored locker. 

Two can definitely play at this game. 

[aaronhotchnersquarterzip]

Meeting You Flipped the World Upside Down - Or Maybe Just Mine

This is it guys, I’m really proud in general of myself for finishing this and I hope you all enjoyed it as well. When I started this fic I honestly planned for a major character death or something dramatic like that. Never in my wildest dreams did I see this ending. I’m not mad though, I’ve had a rough time lately and this really summed up a lot of my feelings. There are people who will never truly leave your life and that's okay. You just shouldn’t let the thought of them hold you back. This has been my favorite thing to write ever and I want to thank everyone who has supported this and made me feel so good about my writing. I did leave this open ended if I ever did want to continue it but I think I want to write something a bit lighter next. I really hope you all enjoyed this as much as I have and remember to stay safe and drink some water today - Mya

Summary: Reader has been a rut, stuck in a never ending cycle of college worries and job interviews. Never did she think that SSA Aaron Hotchner, or Agent as she likes to call him, would walk into her favorite late night diner and flip her world upside down. And he for sure didn’t expect to fall in love so quickly with the soon to be college grad. They navigate finding love and working together to rediscover what that means for each of them.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner X Female Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Epilogue

Aaron Hotchner did flip your world upside down. Maybe just not in the way you expected. But in the way you needed. You watched your children chase their father around the backyard. It was nearly below freezing but they were going strong. You made hot chocolate for their impending arrival inside. In the meantime you curled up on the couch with a warm blanket and watched the fire burn. The Christmas tree was lit nicely in the corner of the living room, an abundance of presents spilling out. 

You pulled out your phone and scrolled through some old pictures. Baby pictures of your three children. Your wedding, it was a fall wedding. More than you could have ever dreamed of. You also looked at your college graduation pictures. Emily, JJ, and Penelope had surprised you and showed up to commencement. Screaming when you walked across the stage. You should call them soon. Finally, you found the picture you were looking for, you and Aaron at one of Dave’s dinners. It was a candid that Morgan took when you weren’t paying attention. Aaron has his arm around you while you’re talking to JJ about god knows what. It’s your favorite picture, beyond a shadow of a doubt. He looked at you like you were the only person in the room, you chose to remember nights that those. He changed you for the better, it was only fair you acknowledged that. 

Your thoughts were interrupted when your husband and kids ran inside from the cold. 

“There’s hot chocolate on the stove waiting for you monsters!” You yelled to them as they rushed to change into warmer clothes. 

When they had all settled and had their mugs of hot chocolate, your husband joined you on the couch. Soon followed by your children, two girls and one boy. They quickly turned on a pixar movie and snuggled up to you underneath several blankets. There was nothing you would change about your life. This was exactly where you were meant to be. 

By the time the credits rolled to Monsters University all three of them had fallen asleep. You carefully tucked in your youngest daughter, Greer. She was about to turn 2 in the spring. Your surprise baby. You couldn’t have been happier when you found out. Sure the stress of raising three kids got to you sometimes but they reminded you of all the good in the world. 

Next was Cheyenne, named after where you met your husband, Noah. You were travelling around the west and made a pit stop in Cheyenne and met the man you were meant to spend forever with. You couldn’t think of a better name for your first daughter, Noah couldn’t have agreed more. She embodied everything good about your husband, his compassion for sure. She was smarter than you by a long shot at just 8 years old. 

Finally you came to your oldests room. He had been a welcome surprise just a few months after your wedding. Your not so little boy mirrored you in a way you never thought possible. It scared you at first, everything about being a parent is scary sure, but nobody prepares you for raising your twin. He had your hair and eyes, Noah’s nose, but everything about him was you. His ambition never failed to wow you, he pushed himself to lengths you truly couldn’t believe sometimes. He however, did inherit some of your bad genes though. Sometimes he didn’t know when to stop, when to slow down and enjoy the present. You got better at that with age, you want him to achieve everything he puts his mind to but you need him to see when it’s happening. Not when it’s happened. 

You reached down and pushed some of his hair from his face so you could kiss his forehead. 

“Goodnight my sweet boy,” you whispered and he snuggled further into his blankets. You smiled softly and walked out quietly. He was already 12, sometimes you couldn't believe that you made it this far. You grew as you moved farther away, you knew that your life belonged out here. Sometimes it’s hard to trust fate but how could you justify meeting Noah and creating your dream life in your new favorite spot in America without believing at least a little bit in fate. 

You softly closed your little boy's door and ran your hand over the nameplate crested in the center of the door, Aaron, written in hues of blue. 

As you cuddled with your husband while he slowly fell asleep, you reached for your phone and scrolled through an album made just for you and Aaron. Noah may be your future, but Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner was the love of your life and you forever had a part of him. 

You pulled up his contact for the first time in 18 years and sent him the photo from that dinner at Dave’s a lifetime ago. You wrote a short message, 

I forgive you Agent - Y/N

The last thing you expected was a response, especially so quickly. It was a picture that you had posted on social media a few weeks prior, celebrating your 13th wedding anniversary. 

I’m happy you found better. What are their names? - Agent

My youngest is Greer, then Cheyenne. - Y/N

You wait a few minutes to respond, you know he read the message prior.

He’s named after the love of my life Aaron - Y/N

He called you then. You moved quickly and quietly from your bed and down into your living room. Answering before the line went dead. 

“You were the love of my life too Y/N. I just didn’t know it.”

There you sat, where just hours ago you were wrapped in blankets with your family, you were now transported to your life with Aaron. Staring into the fire with tears in your eyes. 

“It wouldn’t have mattered, Aaron, sometimes finding the love of your life doesn't mean spending the rest of your life with them. It means loving them for the rest of your life, even if that means watching them love someone else.” 

You could hear him sigh on the other end of the line, “I never stopped loving you. I won’t ever stop loving you Y/N.” 

“I will always love you too Aaron. I think I’m happier now than I ever was with you though. JJ told me you got remarried Agent. Congratulations. I’m sure she's perfect for you.”

“Yeah, pretty much. Her name is Beth, Jack loves her too.”

“I miss him. I’m happy he has someone again. You deserve to be happy Aaron. I forgave you days after. Hell hours even. But I knew that we both needed someone who understood us better. We both deserved that.” 

Just then you heard a door creak and the sound of feet pattering towards you, “mama,” Aaron’s voice squeaked out. 

“Right here, baby. What's wrong?”

“I heard you talking and wanted to talk with you too.” You laughed a little before putting your phone on speaker and introducing your son to Aaron. 

“Well alright, but I think you might need to know his name before you talk to him.” Aaron caught your drift, introducing himself through the phone. 

“Hi Aaron, I’ve heard all about you. My name is Aaron too and there is nothing I want more than to talk to you.”

Your little boy perked up at the idea that this man had the same name as him, Aaron was a good sport and talked to him for about 20 minutes before your boy was yawning between every word. 

“Say goodnight to Aaron buddy,” he murmured out a small goodnight and was helped back into bed. 

“He reminds me of you, I’m sure you know that already.”

“Everyone calls him my clone. Maybe it’s wishful thinking but sometimes I look into his eyes and swear I see you looking back at me Aaron. He’s how I imagined our children would turn out. Perfect in every single way.”

“Your husband is very lucky to have you Y/N. I’ll envy him until the end of time.”

You sensed this was the end of the conversation, you subconsciously wanted to never stop talking to him. That part of you that would always yearn for his comfort when you were breaking down in the bathroom or when you were so over the moon about something at work. You wanted to share those moments with him first. I guess some part of you always would. 

“I love you Aaron.”

“I love you too Y/N, goodnight”

“Goodnight Agent.”

[theotherace]

Fic Recs: Taang

I’ve made two or three rec lists over the past few months, but I thought I’d make a proper, comprehensive one that’s easy to add to in the future. Not all of these are exclusively Taang, but they all feature the ship to some degree. I will only recommend one or two stories per author, but some profiles are definitely worth checking out further. So! Here goes.

Multi-Chapter, Complete

Whisper Into the Sky by damagectrl – Toph has two choices: Go home and get married or have the family fortune and her inheritance given to a stranger. Her problem: She wants to keep her ties to her family, but is quite content traveling with Aang. Her solution: Fight her way through suitors for her freedom. Literally. | General 

The Slow Path by Tazmainian Devil – Eight years after the fall of Ozai, Aang returns to the friends he left behind. | T

A Matter of Honor by Adridere – Almost 4 years after the war. Aang is engaged to Katara and is up to Zuko to teach him the facts of life. Yep, the bees and the birds. Crazy kings, bananas and the ultimate contest for the hand of a reluctant maiden. | M

Roommates by breeeliss – An unlikely tale of two unlikely people being forced to live together under unlikely circumstances.| Modern AU | T

Fall of the White Lotus by Boo-82 – Three years after the war Zuko is living a life of duty while Katara reluctantly travels the world with Aang. So, when General Iroh orders them to find Zuko’s mother and save his Order they seize the opportunity with both hands. It’s the beginning of an adventurous journey of discovery, but as time runs out a rising threat puts their bond to the test. | T

Half Asleep by The Crushinator – Five years after the Hundred-Year War, Fire Lord Zuko is hit with an assassin’s dart, and falls into a coma from which he cannot wake. A week passes, and his prognosis is grim. But Katara could swear she hears him in her dreams… | T

Yaaburnee by aviatordame – Avatars aren't meant to belong – that's as much as Aang can fathom. | M

Getting Lucky by roca-dos – Crazy things happen in college every day. | Modern AU | T 

All Fall Down by DJNS  – Aang copes with a tragic loss and finds renewed hope in an unexpected place. | M | Warning for Major Character Death

The Princess & the Badger-Cat by panaili – In a land never torn apart by the Hundred Year War, the sixteen-year-old Avatar Aang is trying his best to keep the balance between the four nations, including the increasingly antagonistic Fire Nation, which, despite his friendship with the Crown Prince Zuko, refuses to acknowledge him. Elsewhere, Sokka and Katara have been separated on their quest to find their missing father, and Sokka, pursued by the same bandits who kidnapped his sister, finds himself on the balcony of some rich girl’s house in Gaoling. Oh, and a sorcerer has turned him into a badger-cat. It’s just one of those days. | Teen and Up

Reborn by Jakia – Life. Death. Rebirth. This is the cycle that all spirits must abide to, even the Avatar. Aang and Toph face death and the reincarnation cycle. | T

New Girl by tiffaniesblews – After coming home early from a business trip, all Katara wanted to do was surprise her boyfriend, Jet. Imagine her surprise when she got home and Jet was in bed with another woman. Not wanting to live with her ex, and unable to live with her best friend, Suki, Katara takes her brother Sokka's offer to move into his loft with his two roommates. Aang is perky and sweet, the owner of a st. Bernard and a cat, who's often confused about his direction in life. Zuko, on the other hand, is a closed-off bartender, who takes some time opening up to others.The four could not be more different, and yet? They work out perfectly. Even if Katara's feelings for Zuko get a bit more complicated as time goes on. | Modern AU | Mature 

The Ties That Bind series by LdyKirin – An exploration of the ties that bind for good and ill. Toph and Zuko are both shaped by the family they were born to and the family they choose. Lots of found family feels. | T

What Happens In Kyoshi by BlackVelvetBand – Prince Zuko, and the GAang take a vacation on Kyoshi Island. Flirting, fighting, and embarrasment ensue as Sokka takes it upon himself to defend Katara's virtue...in a dress? A short,chaptered fic featuring Zutara, Sokki, and Taang. | T

Under the Night Sky by mycomfortblanket – Aang hears the chattering of teeth during a cold night. Was an AU that I found on tumblr that I made fit into this story. Orginal prompt: "We have to go camping together and share a sleeping bag even though we are complete strangers | General

On The Precipice by JoyDragon – They’re just best friends. Or maybe they’re teetering on the edge of being something more. | General

Oneshots, Complete

Air and Stone by Wolvenfire86 – A few Taang stories munched together. My first submissions. I hope everyone likes them. Please review, it makes me feel special. | K+

Taang Week 2020 series by teabagginses | Teen and Up & Mature

Our Little Secret by IrisPlumeria – Toph and Aang, sat next to one another dressed in their finest under paper lanterns and surrounded by copious amounts of food and friends, cringed at the disgusting noises coming out of Sokka’s nostrils as he blew his nose into Suki’s handkerchief. “I can’t believe two of my best friends are finally married!” Sokka sobbed, earning a supportive pat on the back from Suki, who didn’t flinch at the snot coming out of his nose. “I’m so happy for you guys!” Toph and Aang's family are happy for their nuptials, but will they be able to survive their wedding party without letting slip a big secret?Written for Taang Week 2020 - Tradition. | General 

All Roads Lead To Ba Sing Se by irisbleufic – "I was thinking," [Mai] said, tucking her last remaining dagger into her belt as she strode to meet him, "that it's about time I let Fire Lord Zuko know that I quit." When Kuei smiled at her, she could see the sunshine at which she once cringed."Notice that's six years overdue is better than none at all." "Indeed," said the Earth Queen, and grinned at him. | Teen And Up

Lady Fu’s Fortune Telling by Lady Cleo – Katara and Toph visit the local fortuneteller to get their fortunes told. Added a part two with Zuko and Aang. | T

The Perfect Companion by Morna – Aang seeks comfort outside of the arms of his wife, Katara. Taang, slightly lemony. | T

Box by JoeMerl – Written for Taang Week, one-shot. Toph ticks off Bumi, but Aang is willing to fight his old friend tooth and nail to get her out of trouble. Humor, light romance. | K+

2 am by shmulia – Whoever set off the fire alarm at 2 in the morning is on Katara's shit list. Even if he is hot and shirtless. | Modern AU | K

And its sequel, 11:45 – House parties aren't Katara's thing. Sokka's drunk, Suki's on a mission to set her up, and Toph is... well, Toph. But for every cloud there's a silver lining, and for Katara it comes in the form of a second chance with her neighbour... | Modern AU | T 

Treat by PsychEmpress – She felt the corners of her own lips quirk as he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “Consider this my treat,” he said and Toph allowed a smile to break out. OR In which Toph is a stressed architecture student who gets a free cup of coffee from the handsome waiter after she helps his friend. Taang. Mentions of Sukka. | Modern AU | T

Sawaru by metacognitive – This love is simple. Non-Korra compliant. | K+

Newlyweds (and basically everything else) by PandaCookie – Everyone’s a bit hopeless right after they’ve been married. | K+

Rhythms by xcgirl08– For now, though, her child’s heartbeat was hers to contemplate. | K 

Tenderness by Adridere – He wanted to keep her, even though he was not supposed to. He promised her freedom, and she promised him sanity in his own household. She kept her part of the bargain, but he found a way not to keep his. | M

Holy Matrimony by Loopy – After their marriage, Zuko and Katara deal with conflicting religious beliefs, and look to the friends for advice. Between the Zutara and the religious satire, every single person who reads this should feel offended. | General

Blind Maiden’s Grace by Adara_Rose – You can learn a lot of things from a flower… | Not Rated (I’d say General) 

Etched in the Earth by Dance_Elle_Dance – She knows the feel of Aang’s footprints better than her own, and that reality scares her. | Teen and Up

No One Asks About The Scars by voleuse – Write about how you learned to curse in order not to be cursed. | General

When in Rome by dtmars – She wasn’t stupid. She knew what she was doing and what she was getting herself into. They both did. | Modern AU. | Explicit

Like Real People Do by DerAndere – The moon is full and bright when he falls out of bed, awake, asleep, inside a dream, and starts walking, driven by the feeling he does not understand, tugging on him relentlessly, and he is Aang, and he is not, and the world is cold. | General | Full Disclosure: This is my story.

Meet Me Under The Table by avatarfan16 – A story of how Toph and Aang find love, in the most unusual of places. TAANG | K+

Aftermath by Zaram'delar – In any celebration, there's always one or two people with a habit of disappearing. Taang drabbleish series. | T

I Choose Dare by for_darkness_shows_the_stars – An ode to how Aang, under the power of a mighty temptress, was forced to grow a beard. Oh, and the birth of his first child, too, he supposes. | General Audiences

Multi-Chapter, In Progress

Heartbeat by AngelicBee – Avatar Aang's soulmate probably died 100 years before, but he can't help but feel she's closer than he thinks. | Teen and Up

a mighty ocean (or a gentle kiss) by poweradequeen – no, the title doesn’t make sense but i don’t care. i couldn’t think of one so now you’re stuck with a cheesy line from two by sleeping at last.it’s a taang fine arts university au. because i said so. | Teen and Up

Neither is Love a Cage by cali-chan – Love is the freedom of flying accompanied. It is letting be without possessing. PG-13 (possibly M later on), drama/romance/angst, Zuko/Katara + Aang/Toph, post-finale but diverges before LoK canon.

Operation: Zutara (REVAMPED) by dtmars – Everyone could see that those two were in love with each other. Everyone except for them. So Toph takes the initiative and fills in for Cupid to give them a little push, while Aang just tags along for the ride. | Teen and Up

Taang One Shots by stitch1830 – A collection of short stories about Toph and Aang that I've had saved in my notes for a few months. Stories are in the ATLA/LOK universe (not canon compliant), and typically revolve around their relationship and family. | Teen and Up

[bookscoffeejesus]

6.17.2021

I feel like Eragon and the entire Inheritance Cycle is such an underrated series sometimes. Like, this great book written by a nineteen-year-old boy gets overshadowed by the more popular series (mostly Harry Potter which was popular at the same time this series was published).

When I first read this book waaaay back in middle school (figure around 2005-06 school year) I was astounded by the fact that a 19-year-old, someone who was only about 10 years older than myself, published this book (and at the time, Eldest) and created these complicated characters. I re-read it again in high school, about the time that Brisingr came out, and now I’m re-reading it again with the intention of reading through all 4 of the books in the series and, hopefully, The Fork, the Witch, and the Worm. And let me tell you, I’m still astounded by the fact that a 19-year-old created this fabulous world and complicated characters!

Seriously though. Can we talk about Saphiria’s sass and sense of humor? And Brom’s sass? These two are honestly my favorite characters because they keep things real. Reading their parts is like talking to some of my friends, and, I have to admit, their sass made me laugh multiple times throughout the book.

Also, the fact that I’ve read this book twice before gives me an unfair advantage as I read, if only because the plot started coming back to me and I started yelling at Eragon in my head, telling him not to do things or to actually listen to another character because it was the better choice and I knew what was going to happen if he did the opposite of what I was yelling. (I was starting to worry that the neighbors would worry, but then I realized I was in my basement office and no one would notice.)

This book, and this series, has fond memories for me. When I first read it, it was because my mom had recommended it to me. So, in an attempt to kinda bond with her, I picked it up and started reading it. I actually remember sitting in the gym before school started, this book in my lap, ignoring my friends because I was so engrossed in what was happening! (Sorry guys! 😅) My mom is obsessed with dragons, which I think is what made her pick up this series in the first place. But I’ll always be glad she recommended it because it brought me into a world that I wouldn’t have known about otherwise.

PopSugar: A book you have seen on someone’s bookshelf (in real life, on a Zoom call, in a TV show, etc.) (The whole series is on my mom’s bookshelf thanks to her never ending love of dragons. Thanks mom!)

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

[where-dreamers-go]

All right, request for reader to give eragon a hug and a cuddle cuz he needs it

“Everything” Eragon x Reader

(A/N: Anon asked: “All right, request for a reader to give eragon a hug and a cuddle cuz he needs it” This is pretty short, but I added 99% fluff.

I reread the request and I’m like: This was a insert reader request, right?Warnings: Fluff. (Immense amount of fluff.) Word Count: 572 words)

Feet padding across the cold floor, you entered Eragon’s study. Scrolls were filed away, a half-full bookcase lined a wall, and one very occupied desk was in your sight. One Rider sat in that lonely chair. Writing utensils left forgotten as Eragon was slouched in his seat, not working. What an unusual sight.

It was hardly late afternoon and the leader of the Dragon Riders was tired.

You shook your head with a small smile. Walking up behind the chair, you draped your arms over Eragon’s shoulders.

“Busy staring at the table again?”

He stretched his neck back and rested his head against you. “I’m not sure how long I’ve been sitting here.” Tilting his head, he nestled his forehead to your neck.

“Was it the building, two sparring lessons, or writing that wore you out?” You asked.

“Everything,” he murmured.

“Awh.” You ran your fingers through his brown hair. “Why don’t you come with me? How’s that sound?”

“Perfect.”

“Then let’s go.” Taking a step away from the chair and Eragon, he gave you a noise of complaint. “You have to get up.”

“Where are we going?”

“I was thinking of somewhere comfortable and quiet. Private.”

He turned in his seat and gave you a questioning expression.

“Bed,” you whispered. “You could use the rest.”

With a slow nod, Eragon rose from his seat.

“Come on, Dragon Rider, it’s just to the other room.”

His bare feet crossed the floor in short, hardly coordinated steps. Even though his eyes were open, someone might have thought he was sleepwalking.

Adorable, you thought before turning to enter the bedroom.

A large nest bedding filled up most of the space. It made Eragon’s bed look so minuscule in comparison, but no less comfortable.

“Are you telling me to sleep early?” Eragon asked from behind you. “To nap?”

“If you want to.”

Crawling onto the bed, you settled in the middle with pillows supporting your head. The bedsheets smelled faintly like a forest after a rainstorm and a little like Eragon.

“I would sleep for hours if I could.” He joined you fairly quickly for someone as tired as he. Linking his arms around you, he tucked his face in the crook of your neck. As he let out a soft sigh, you knew he would not be moving for a long while.

“You won’t hear a complaint from me.” You said and combed your fingers into his hair. The strands were soft between your fingers.

It was not everyday that you could have a quiet moment with him that was not set short by an appointment or sleep.

“What were you doing…earlier?” Eragon asked quietly.

“Before I came and rescued you?” You teased.

His lips smiled against your skin.

“Thinking about you. How you spend hours working on one thing and then switch to something else without much of a break in between. You shouldn’t be working yourself so much,” you explained as you rubbed his back. “You can’t get anything accomplished if you’re exhausted.”

“You worry about me too much.”

“If you’re not taking care of yourself, I certainly will worry.” You pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “You’re my everything. You know that?”

His arms tightened around you and he nudged his face that much more onto your neck. “I know.” One of his legs bent over yours.

“Get some rest, Eragon.”

From there, he hummed quietly.

~~~

(If you love my writings and want to support me, I have a Ko-Fi where you can buy me a coffee. I would be eternally grateful.

Best wishes and happy reading.)

~~~~~

DreamerDragon Tags: @cubedtriangle

Inheritance Cycle Tags: @shewhobreathesfire @emburbaguette

**Let me know if you would like to be tagged in insert readers, either through replies, ask, or message.**

[panic-based-riot]

Gilded Chapter 2

Fandom: Inheritance Cycle 

Paring: Murtagh x OC, Eragon x OC, Love Triangle 

Warnings: None

Part 2/??

Ilirea woke to the sound of distressed chirping. She sat up on her bed and rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she looked around her home, searching for the high pitched sound. As it grew louder and more upset Ilirea turned her gaze to the small nest of blankets that held the egg. Or rather, used to hold the egg. In its place now sat a tiny dragon, chirping as it tried in vain to get a fragment of shell off its head. Moving slowly so as not to startle the small creature, Ilirea crawled over to it and gently grabbed the fragment. She smiled as she lifted  it off the baby dragon’s head. The chirping stopped, and it tilted its head to gaze at her curiously. 

A single happy chirp came from the creature, and Ilirea couldn’t help but stare in wonder. The tiny dragon was a brilliant yellow from head to tail, the underside of it a deep amber. As she stared, the dragon stared back, tilting its head as if trying to understand her. Then it reached out with its head, and she scrambled backwards. 

“No, you can’t bond with me. I’m taking you to the Queen.” 

The dragon chirped again, and lunged forward even as Ilirea lifted her hands to keep it away. The tip of the yellow nose hit her right palm and a white hot sensation ran up her arm, burning into her mind. She gasped as a bright silver light shone at the point of contact and something made contact with her mind, something powerful and ancient. 

The light faded, except for a dull glow from the oval shaped irregular patch of silver now in the center of Ilirea’s palm. She closed her hand around it and pulled back, staring in awe at the dragon as she trembled. 

Hungry

The thought, more of a feeling, drifted across her mind and she flinched. She didn’t want to be a dragon rider. She wasn’t supposed to be anything extraordinary at all, just a mistake in a small town. 

“Why? Why did you choose me?” 

She stared at the dragon, expecting an answer, but all that came was the sensation of hunger. She stood, still trembling, and moved to her small kitchen to grab the few scraps of meat that she had. She placed them on the floor by the dragon and it ate them quickly. 

A sense of gratitude flowed over Ilirea, and she sat back down on her bed, staring at the tiny yellow dragon. It chirped, looking back, and she sighed. “Well, now we definitely have to get to the queen. But how am I supposed to get you out of here? I can't just walk through town with a baby dragon on my shoulder.” 

The tiny thing wandered over to where her skirts from the day lay in a heap and it nosed at it before climbing into the pocket that she had carried the egg home in. It curled into it and let out a soft sound almost like purring. 

“Well, I guess that works.” 

Sparing a glance out the window, Ilirea gazed at the night outside. “I need to sleep more, we leave in the morning.” She lay down and curled into a ball, and the tiny dragon poked its head out of her skirts. It chirped twice, then skittered over the wood floor towards her and hopped up onto the small bed. While humming the same pitch the egg had earlier that day, the small creature circled twice before settling in the space next to her stomach. It purred and rested its head on its forelegs and the two fell asleep. 

Morning came with soft rays of warm sunshine as the sunlight fell on Ilirea’s face. The sound of soft chirping reached her as she opened her eyes and she saw the tiny dragon standing on her pillow, chirping. 

Hungry. Go, travel? 

The impressions of a rumbling tummy and trees passing overhead pulled Ilirea out of her bed. “Alright, let me get dressed.”

She quickly pulled on a new overdress and stays, tightened them, and looped her overskirt through her skirt hike again. From the same belt she also hung a small pouch of coins and a silver leaf-bladed dagger in its gold-tipped sheath, the only inheritance from the father she had never known. The tiny dragon half jumped, half flew over to where Ilirea stood, and it chirped thrice. With a smile, Ilirea bent over and scooped up the small creature and placed it into the pocket she had created. 

It poked its tiny head out, watching as Ilirea wandered around the house gathering things into a pack at the center of the room. She placed a blanket, a spare skirt, and a pair of tight trousers into it along with a hairbrush. She gathered up the blanket that the dragon had hatched in and tossed the yellow shell fragments into the fireplace, hoping to hide them. She wandered about the house a few more minutes before she gathered up the pack and looked down at the tiny dragon. 

“Well, are you ready?” 

The dragon seemed to smile and a sense of eagerness flowed through Ilirea’s mind.

 She smiled in return, “Alright then.” She reached for the door handle, but paused. All she’d ever known was this house and this village. Beyond that everything was unknown. She glanced down at the tiny dragon, now curled around itself in her pocket, and let out a sharp breath. 

The door opened to a quiet street, only a few people milled about as she closed the door to her home for the last time. Ilirea brushed her white blonde hair out of her eyes and froze as her fingers danced over the pointed tips of her ears. She quickly pulled her hair back down to cover it and moved as quickly as she could to the market. 

Along the way she smiled at a few friends, people she had known her whole life, and waved as if it were another regular day. At the market she bought a few strips of dried meat, three loaves of bread, and a new scarf, in case she were to encounter another village along her travels. As she was leaving, she passed a small stand that sold maps. 

The gentleman selling them smiled, the long scar on his balding head shining, “You seem to be off on a journey, surely you need a map to guide you?” 

Ilirea hesitated, then purchased a map of Alagaesia, stuffing it into her pack. “Thank you, sir. I’ve not seen you around this market before, may I inquire after your name?” 

He laughed, “You may, but I fear it will garner you no answers. You may call me simply Longshanks.” 

She smiled, “Well I thank you kindly, Master Longshanks. This will be helpful in my travels.” She lifted her hand in farewell, and the mapmaker’s smile fell. He reached out and gripped her wrist, tugging her forward. 

He turned her hand to show the silver brand on her palm, and Ilirea felt the tiny dragon stir in her pocket. 

“You would do well to hide this, Elf-child Dragon Rider. There are many who would take less than kindly to you walking brazenly in their midst.” 

Ilirea pulled her hand back, closing a fist around the mark and reached up with her other hand to make sure her pointed ears were still covered. “How did you-”

“The gedwëy ignasia is the most telling sign of a rider, young one. Hide it, and hide it well until you reach your destination.” Longshanks smiled.

“Thank you. I will. How do you know so much?” Ilirea nodded.

Longshanks simply winked and leaned back in his chair, speaking no more. Ilirea waited a moment, and when it became apparent that the merchant would share no more, she left, keeping her right hand close to her, hiding the Gedwëy Ignasia. She walked quickly through town into the dense green forest she knew so well and stopped only when she was far enough away to not be heard. 

Once she was deep into the forest, she knelt and lifted the tiny dragon from her pocket. She also unshouldered her pack, dropping a few of the meat strips on the ground for the dragon. She unrolled the map, looking over it. She had never been more grateful that her mother saw fit to teach her to read. The dragon gulped down the last of the meat strips and placed its front paws on the map, looking at it with Ilirea. 

“Ok, the capitol is here,” She placed a finger on Ilirea, the newly renamed capitol that shared her name, formerly Uru'Baen,  “all the way across the desert. But if we go this way,” She traced a finger along the edge of Du Weldenvarden and down through Lake Isentar and the Ramir River. “Then we can avoid the desert, and most cities except for Bullridge, until we get to Ilirea.” 

The dragon hummed, and Ilirea looked down at it, “I don’t know how fast you grow, but this is going to be a long trip. I’m talking months, so I hope you know how to hunt already. I can't buy us both food for that long.” The dragon looked up at her, its golden eyes blinking, and Ilirea sighed. 

“I suppose I should also give you a name. But I don’t know if you are a boy or a girl.” She looked at the slender dragon and mentally compared it to the other dragon’s she had seen. It seemed to fit the proportions of Saphira more than Firnen, at least from what she had seen from them both flying overhead, for Firnen was far stockier. “Are you a girl?” The dragon hummed excitedly, twitching its, or rather her, tail. 

Ilirea studied the tiny dragon, looking over her pretty yellow and amber scales. “What about Amber?” The tiny dragon snorted, looking almost affronted at the thought. “Ok, well…” She trailed off, thinking of an old word in an old human language that her mother had taught her. 

“Do you like Halcyon? It means golden.”

She flapped her wings and crowed, nudging Ilirea. 

“Ok, Halcyon it is then.'' She rolled up the map, placing it back in her pack, and shouldered it. She also grabbed a large handful of moist soil and rubbed it into her right palm, concealing her Gedwëy Ignasia. As she stood she held out an arm for Halcyon and she raced up Ilirea’s arm, sitting on her shoulder. She nuzzled her face, humming, and settled as Ilirea started walking away from Ceris, deeper into the forest.

Taglist:  @raiikuiii @gilded-moon @thebluemoonwolf @overlordspirit18 @nightsshadow1 

[operation-619]

Satan’s Angel

Johnny Storm x WOC!Reader

Summary: She was hidden from the world at the age of 16 when something within her awoke. Something demonic. But she has her brother to hold onto when things start to get worse, because he’s there for her. Right?

warnings: language, blood, violence, mentions of medical problems. mentions of needles, abuse and torture. 18+

WC: 2.2K

masterlist I Chapter 2

So I wrote this ack in my Quotev days, and I decided to edit it - because it was atrociously written. And I’m now posting it on here so I hope you enjoy my loves 

-619x

The world has never been in my favour, I realise that now.

I should’ve realised it years ago.

But standing here looking my estranged brother in the eyes; I finally realise that the world has led me on a path that had to end this way, no matter how hard I tried to swerve and dodge the upcoming circumstance, I would always end up staring at my brothers empty eyes, with my hand deep in his chest.

Killing him. Killing my brother.

She sat there, waiting for the pain to embrace her like a long-lost cousin. She knew it was time; her heart was spasming, she could hardly breathe. Her eyes were watery, tears sliding down her face.

Yet she sat there at the edge of her bed staring out the window that occupied the whole wall opposite her bed. She could see the mountains from her bed so clearly. It was as if she was there.

If she was there.

Her chest moved erratically, her cheeks soaked with tears, yet she sat calmly; pondering, wondering, daydreaming about a life outside these four walls that kept her trapped in her own mind.

A mind that kept her sane and crazy all at the same time. She would dream up stories of a handsome young prince saving her with a fiery kiss. Or most times it was a nightmare, a world made of purple skies and vibrant green grass, set aflame; with bodies lying across the ground as she ran with some man, her hand in his so he wouldn’t lose her, the other hand on her belly housing a precious creature. She never got the end of the nightmare because she would wake up just before a monster jumped on top of her.

She would always jolt up, sweat weighing heavy on her skin, a scream rising up her throat along with bile and the feeling on nostalgia. She hated how she knew the place she was dreaming of yet couldn’t place a finger on it.

Before she could ponder anymore, she felt the first flicker of pain, it started at the bottom of her spine, and oh-so painfully started to spread across the rest of her rigid body. She drew in a ragged breath as the pain wrapped a hand around her heart and squeezed. She clenched her eyes shut tight and tried soothe her breathing, but the hand around her heart squeezed harder. She gasped out in pain and rolled forward; landing on the floor on her knees as her hand started to scrape at her chest, desperately trying to remove the hand off of her heart. It was as if it was laughing at her attempts because next thing she knew, the hand squeezed so hard she fell forward onto her hand and screamed.

She screamed so loudly, black dots clouded her vision and danced around her. Her throat felt sore, but she didn’t stop.

She couldn’t.

Her body shook as sobs replaced the screaming in a matter of seconds. She hated this, for the past eight years it just seems to be getting worse. Ever since she surpassed her sixteenth birthday, all it has ever been was pain, pain and pain. It was tenfold as worse as it used to be. Before her sixteenth birthday it was like a build up to the pain she was feeling now. Minor headaches, to migraines, to temperatures either too hot or too cold. No one knew what was wrong with her. Not even the best doctors’ money could buy. And if it wasn’t for Victor she wouldn’t be here, with round the clock care to make sure she is okay, she knew that he loved her even though he wasn’t around as much as he used to be. She knew.

Of course, he loves you. Your all he’s got, and vice-versa.

The thoughts echoed around her head, bouncing painfully off her head.

The vibrations of the floor let her know that the people were on their way.  Moments later she felt her body being lifted from the floor, she felt herself slump against the broad chest of some man, she given up fighting against the pain and just let it take over her system. She couldn’t stop the tears, the echoed the lack of control she had over her own body as the gushed down her paling face.

“Hush now, close your eyes. I’ve got you.” The deep voice vibrated through her body, it felt oddly familiar and through all the pain she managed to look up into the familiar blue eyes of her brother.

“Vic- “her words fell short as she lost the energy to speak, instead she used all her energy to place her hand onto his smooth cheek.

“Hush, it’s okay. I’m here now.” With that statement she let her eyes roll to the back of her head, as the pain drowned her in its last tidal wave.

  Victor released a long ‘huff’ as he stopped at another traffic light. He regretted coming back to New-York at 14:00 pm when the streets would be busy with the afternoon rush. He rhythmically tapped his fingers against the arms rest and looked on through the divider, he smirks as he saw his driver’s hand gripping the wheel tightly out of frustration too.

His attention was quickly drawn to his phone when he heard the ringtone brake through the silence in the car; reaching into his jacket he removed his phone from the inside pocket of his black Louis Vuitton suit jacket.

‘Her vitals are erratic again; she’s going to go into Comatose. But I think it’s best if you came over. You can get the samples you need.’

The text message was all he needed for him to clear his throat and say;

“Michael, turn back around to the airport, please. We’re going to visit my sister.” With a nod from Michael, the car was swiftly turned around and quickly driven back to the airport. He sent a text to his pilot, telling him to ready the helicopter that will bring him to the facility he has in the Alps, which is coincidentally where he is keeping his sister.

Victors blue eyes grew stormy as he remembered how much pain his sister has been through in the past few years, the undiagnosed tantrums her body would throw sent his sister into an unbreakable cycle of pain and then unconsciousness. He knew deep down that one day she’ll have an episode that she won’t concur.

He remembers the first time it happened; he was stepping through his front door. He barley even had time to take his jacket off before he heard a scream that made his blood curl, rushing upstairs he was met with a sight that had the breath taken out of him, there hunched on the bed was his sister.

Head clasped between her hands, nails digging into her skin as if she was trying to peel her own skin off, her lower face was covered in blood from her nose, and her eyes were screaming for help, for an escape that she was so desperately seeking.

Victor rushed forward and attempted to prise her hands off her head. But was met with a force that had him crashing into wall next to the door. He looked up and saw his sister looking at him with unnatural black eyes and a hand pointed towards him with her palm open. Her eyelids fluttered before they were back to their normal hue.

“Help me…” her voice came out hoarse and timid before she convulsed onto the ground.

Surging forward Victor managed to catch her head just in time before it hit the corner of the bed frame. His vision was blurry as he looked at his sister, her head cradled in his lap as he tried to steady her from the excessive shaking.

His ears picked up the sirens and then the sound of the door getting thrown open as paramedics came rushing upstairs.

Yet he couldn’t move, his body wasn’t registering what was actually happening.  

Their voices all became mumbled as he watched them pry her out of his grip, he tried to speak but his mouth wouldn’t move it just stayed there, hanging open like a fool.

He continued to stare at the group of paramedics struggling to hold his sister still as he felt two pairs of hands under his arms to haul him up.

‘Come on son.’ The voice sounded so distant and foreign to him as he let the two strangers support his weight as it appeared his own legs couldn’t do that. He hazily watched as the world around him moved without some much of a struggle. Next thing he knew he was sat on the curb with a blanket wrapped around him. Apparently for the shock.

Fuck that.

His head snapped to the side as he heard the shouting of the paramedics as the rushed his unconscious sister out of the house; one split off from the group and came over to him.

“Are you the boyfriend?” Victor shook his head, eyes trained on his sisters’ body being hauled into the back of the ambulance.

“Brother,” he managed to rasp out.

“Okay then that’s even better. Can you tell me anything about her?” His eyes stayed trained on his sister as the paramedics sorted her out in the back, the doors were wide open so he could see what they were doing.

“Yeah, yeah.” He numbly nodded. Half listening to what the man was saying.

“Any mental illness, inherited disorders from the family?” Victor continued to shake his head; the man continued asking questions, but they all had the same answer. A shake of the head from Victor Von-Doom.

“Okay can you tell me how old she is?” Victor looked down at his Rolex, his eyebrows furrowed in sadness when he realised what day it was. The watch read back 03:45am.

“October 31st, she turned sixteen forty-five minutes ago.” He finally looked over at the paramedic and noticed how young he really was, said paramedics face contorted into a look of unease. Victor sent him a look of confusion which lead to the boy looking away.

“Sorry sir, it’s just three am is considered the ‘witching hour’ in my religion, and it clashes with it being Halloween today as well- ‘the paramedic turned around and noticed the look on Victors face and cleared his throat- ‘Sorry sir. Happy birthday to her, you can ride with her if you wish.”

And with that the young boy scurried off.

Looking out the window, Victor noticed they were about to touch down on the landing pad. Exhaling unsteadily, he rolled his shoulders back preparing himself what was to come.

If only he knew.

  The steady, rhythmic beeping of the EKG machine soothed Victors heart as he stood by the window and looked out onto the scenery that was suspiciously calming. Now he understood why his sister made him replace the tiny window for this huge one. It was once a wall, but with the extra light and the view it made the room less constricting, less likely of a panic attack for her.

“Hey.” The soft voice barley reached his ears, but he heard it and he couldn’t be happier. Spinning around he marched to her side and plonked himself down onto the chair that he’d been sat in for the past fourteen hours.

“Name?”

“(Y/N) Von-Doom. Victor?”

“No, Birthday?” “Monday, October Thirty-first, three am. Victor please.”

“Favourite person in the world?”

“Steve Harvey.”

“Hey, what happened to it being me”

“You wouldn’t shut up. Your making my head hurt Victor.” She raised a hand to rub her temple, only to hiss in pain as her muscles burned. Tears clouded her vison as she remembered what happened.

“Did anyone get hurt?” She was met with a ‘no’ from her brother. She mumbled a response that Victor couldn’t hear. He watched her as she looked out the window; eyes glassed over and distant, like she was somewhere else.

“I can’t do this anymore,” her voice was quiet, lacking emotion. It caused Victors heart to beat faster. He couldn’t let her go. Not now.

“(Y/N)?”

“I mean, here. Here in this room. Because these episodes are getting stronger, I can feel it. I probably won’t survive the next one. Or fuck, the one after that. Who knows Victor. I need to leave, get out of here. I don’t care where, I just need to leave.” Her sobs grew louder as did the EKG machine, he tried to soothe her, but it only grew worse.

Doctors and nurse appeared in a matter of minutes, they checked the vitals and the machine only to see her hysterically crying.

“Ma’am, you need to calm down for me please.” The nurse’s voice was sweet, almost taunting to (Y/N). She sighed when the girls crying grew louder. Nodding towards the older man in a pair of grey scrubs she quickly caught (Y/N)’s attention as the Doctor came forward and injected her with a mild sedative.

With in seconds the room grew quite as they all watched (Y/N)’s eyes close slowly.

Just before she went completely under; Victor cupped her cheek.

“I need you. So, I promise I’ll find out what’s going on. You’ll get out of here soon. I promise.”

He watched her eyes close completely and looked out of the window, leaning back against the chair he spoke one last time before closing his eyes:

“I promise.”

——

Chapter 2

[modern-inheritance]

Modern Inheritance Cycle: The origins of Farthen Dur’s current veterans bar owner (semi-scrapped ficlet)

(*hacks up half completed MIC snippet hairball and wanders off* Timeline is a few years before Saphira’s egg is stolen, probably about three or four years at most.)

CONTENT WARNING: WARZONE COMBAT, COMBAT INJURIES, TRAUMATIC AMPUTATION, COMBAT AMPUTEE CHARACTER, REHABILITATION

Cracks and shots stabbed needles into unprotected ears. Bullets cut swirled, roiling lines through the smoke and dust saturated air while the clash of blades rumbled at a constant crackle. Heavy booms of dwarvish artilary and Broddring cannonbombs shook the blood soaked earth.

He couldn’t say he was at the center of it all. In fact, he was a good distance from the thick of the hand to hand combat, in a half completed, baked earth sprinkled trench. The crumbling walls had sloped in on him, partially burying what was left of his lower right leg and his shrapnel studded left. A cannonbomb impacted ten meters away, pouring more of the dirt onto his body as various warriors of both sides scrambled and yelled, running to and fro in the pitched battle.

No, he wasn’t at the center of it. Combat engineer Samuel “Coop” Cooper, 32nd Division of the Surdan ground forces, couldn’t have cared less. Because he was bleeding and screaming and writhing in that little trench, staring at the white shanks of bone that heralded the new end of his leg.

Coop cried out in renewed pain, the shudder of the ground bumping into his mangled limb. He was crying, cutting streaks through the grime on his young face down to his close cropped beard. He had been so proud of that damn beard, finally out of the awkward patchiness of his teen years, proud to finally be a true C.E. like the rest of his division. Now it didn’t even matter. He’d seen men on the battlefield in his situation. He knew that in the chaos of a full on fight that the wounded were rarely, if ever, treated early enough to grant survival.

He’d go out like his Pap. Screaming bloody murder at the Broddring dogs across the battlefield, knowing that his own battlemates couldn’t spare the time or distraction to pick him up and haul him back to the tents.

No one would ever say it was a noble death. But by the bright gods above, Coop would show the courage to face it head on.

New shots cracked overhead, a rifle not three yards from where the young man was concealed. Instead of footsteps pounding by in a dead run towards –or away, as many young recruits had gone– the thick of the battle, the steps came directly towards him. A cold hand clutched at Coop’s heart when black boots entered his field of vision, and he screamed incoherently at the owner, trying to brandish the remnants of his shattered rifle.

No bullet came for him. The figure crouched down, ignoring the whiz of projectiles whipping past.

“Looks like you’re in rough shape, kid.” Then they leapt into the trench and hunched over Coop’s prone form.

He stared.

He honestly couldn’t tell if it was a trick of his mind. He was in enough pain and had lost enough blood for that to make sense. It had to be that.

Crouched over him, thick braid dangling over her shoulder, was a woman. Her gore streaked face was strikingly pretty, even for Coop’s befuddled brain. A rifle he couldn’t identify was slung over her right shoulder, a fine sword clenched in her left hand, and pieces of an outlandish silvery blue kevlar material was strapped all over her chest.

“Hey. Hey!” He tried to focus his bleary vision on her face. Her dark eyes caught and held his gaze. “You got any wards? I need to know.”

Coop shook his head with great effort. Combat Engineers rarely got things as precious as wards.

Everything was getting very heavy….

And then the world shot back into achingly sharp clarity when the woman grabbed his mangled leg at the knee, fingers impossibly strong. He shrieked in agony, red and black spots flaring in his vision. The shrill sound drowned out the spell that the woman used, but he didn’t care because moments afterwards the pain drained away. There was a crawling, itching sensation as the blood that had been flowing from his legs coagulated and dried, forming hard, shiny scabs that were quickly covered with fine dust from the parched soil.

“H’up you go!” Suddenly the world tilted and rolled, spinning in and out of focus like a sickening rollercoaster. The next thing Coop saw, so close up so that he nearly crossed his eyes to read it, was the patch on the woman’s shoulder.

E.S.O. Elvin Spec. Ops. Edoc’sil Varden du Wyrani.

And then the world was again a blur. Not long after he felt himself being lowered onto a stretcher, the woman’s voice garbled and indistinct. As more voices layered in, Coop let himself close his eyes.

He didn’t really know what to think about the last ten minutes. He didn’t know if he was with the Surdan and Varden forces or with the Broddring Empire’s, but he didn’t hurt as much. His mind was foggy but that was okay. He just needed…needed a nap.

Sam Cooper fell asleep on the stretcher, and didn’t wake up until he was in the closest hospital, the lower half of his right shin now neatly amputated and wrapped in clean white gauze.

~~

Cooper closed his eyes, the bright white lights of the hospital room glaring through his lids. He didn’t want to get up and turn them off, but he couldn’t sleep with them on either.

It was six long, painful months after his medical discharge. Six months after he transferred from Surda’s VA hospital to the underground facility at Farthen Dur. Six months of getting used to his new prosthetic foot, six months of learning how to stand and walk again, six months of grueling physical therapy that put boot camp to shame. His whole body ached from the PT session he just completed, the stump of his leg the sorest of all. He was still building up thicker skin that would make putting his weight on it easier.

Coop groaned and dragged his hands over his eyes. He hated calling the nurses to ask for simple things like water and light switches. It felt humiliating. A twenty-two year old army man with three years of active, bloody duty on the Surdan border and the nurses still had the gall to look at him with open pity.

Maybe he could just sleep with his arm over his face….

Three sharp raps on the sign outside his hospital room startled Cooper from his thoughts. He pulled the crook of his elbow away from his eyes– and gaped at his visitor.

It was her!

The woman was leaned casually in his doorframe, stray tendrils of pitch black hair whisping over her forehead and braid again over her shoulder. Her jacket, pinned at the shoulders by the straps of a black backpack, was free from a majority of the kevlar, and hung open on her lean frame. Beneath it, a simple black shirt and a pair of mottled green cargo pants.

“Hi.” She waved slightly.

Coop opened and closed his mouth a few times. “…H-hi.”

“I figured you would have been sent here.” She raised an eyebrow. “Mind if I come in? I brought you a treat.”

“…Sure?” Slowly getting over his shock but still confused as ever, Coop pointed at the uncomfortable plastic chair against the wall. “Feel free, I guess.”

“Thanks, kid.” She dragged the chair over and sat down next to him, pulling the backpack into her lap as she did so. “Didn’t get to introduce myself before. I’m Arya.” They shook hands.

“Coop. Sam Cooper.”

“I stole some cans of fruit salad, Coop.” Arya grinned, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “You want one?”

He glanced over at the tray of unappetizing hospital rations sitting on the dresser. “…Yeah. Thanks.” He accepted the can as she passed it to him, and in turn passed her one of the plastic multi utensils from his tray.

“Cheers, Coop.”

====================

Coop is/was going to be the eventual owner of Farthen Dur’s veterans bar. He’s good friends with Arya, Faolin and Glenwing, even occasionally using them as unofficial bouncers when things got rough or getting them to play music on slow nights to draw in customers.

MIC’s Glenwing is also an amputee, having lost his arm in the ambush that starts off the series, but his recovery was during the time that Eragon and Co are doing their thing and isn’t seen. I wanted to display the strength that many veterans who return from combat with missing limbs have to go through the stress and struggles that PT puts them through. A local man I am friends with lost his leg and he’s incredibly open about his experience, and it really struck a chord in me.

Alas, I never could pick this one up again. It felt too song fic like when I thought about later parts. Sam Cooper is a staple to much of my mental map of MIC though, and will always be ‘canon’ in my little corner of the IC world.

Cheers mates.

Oh right. Arya’s patch is what she, Faolin and Glen ‘homebrewed’ for their rank and division to better fit in with the Varden’s military structure. The motto translates very roughly (with some tinkering) to ‘Unconquerable Guardians of Fate’ because edgy.

[energyanon]

FAQ Energy Readings

I am well aware that I cannot stop anyone when it comes to doing their own readings even if they are not experienced. by now, I hope that you have read this post and are at the very least following the guidelines. If you have done so, I applaud you, thank you for taking this seriously. If you have read the post, and you still want to go ahead i’ve decided to give some background information for you to consider in your readings while you practice. I will not be discussing HOW to do things, as, if you are doing these readings you should know this already, but this is some extra study just so it can help you in them. (If you arent interested in doing ER’s yourself, some of the information in here will give you some insight into your own energy, feel free to read that but otherwise, please do scroll down to where the quotes are, as they help everyone in understanding their own family dynamic/trauma.) I do think it will help everyone. I will continue to add to this with anything that I find would help you make better decisions when conducting a reading.

 1. Before doing readings you need to work on yourself. There are things that can come up in a reading that are extraordinarily triggering, and you will never know that it’s coming up. Sexual abuse, attempted suicide, death.. nothing that wants to come into light gives two shits about you being triggered, and so you need to have done the work to be able to step out and stop without becoming consumed by it. You need to then be able to also have enough strength to close off the reading. If you are too fractured from the trigger in order to do so, you’ve just fucked it up for the person you’re reading. Not good. Do not attempt readings if you have triggers you have not worked on that are either a) going to cause you distress or b) do not allow you to be objective in the reading.

2. Second to this. Being objective in the reading: One of the messages I got last night mentioned that the person who was doing the reading was upset that the person in the reading was not listening to them. You cannot get your own feelings involved. You can merely understand. That’s it. if you are getting upset or feel queezy by what is happening, that is your own energy coming into the reading, and it is not permitted. Get out, shut it down, do not continue. That person does not need your added energy to take care of when they didn’t ask for it themselves, You are only there to observe unless you are doing a constellation in which you are there to guide, but even then you never get your own feelings on the situation involved. 

Eg. In constellations, alot of the time we’re talking about sexual abuse or just straight up physical abuse. It does not help the client if you’re there getting your feelings on those things involved in the constellation and telling them that their father is an absolute shit and he deserves to die for what he did. They are trying to heal their past, that is not helping. You can get the child to say what they want to say eg. “What you did was wrong, it hurt me.” But that is only if they need to be guided to say it, they agree that that is what they want to say, or if they say it organically themselves, which we always try to get them to do first.  and the most important thing

 On this - you can’t say what is good or bad in a reading, it merely IS. The universe always knows what it’s doing, it is putting everyone through trials for them to grow. The very thing that you think is bad, may be the very thing that helps them grow into the best person they can be. You never tell someone what to do, you never force them on a different path if they have not accepted that. If they are on a current lesson, it is not up to you to force them off that lesson before they have learnt from it. 

eg. (and this is NOT what I got at all in the reading, this is just an example) Lets say that Ale IS bad for SS, Lets say shes going to absolutely destroy him. Lets say you SEE that. You are not to do absolutely anything with that situation except accept and understand it with love unless that person has asked you to help them otherwise. You don’t tell them something they don’t already know, you don’t ask a question that says “Seb do you know that Ale is trying to sabotage you?” You don’t do shit. Seb would have been given that lesson in the form of Ale for a reason. Seb’s higher self before coming into this body would have asked for that lesson. You have absolutely 0 authority to tell him to do anything that would halt his learning of this lesson. Every person has the right to their own anatomy, it is your duty to have them keep that right.

Reiterating: If you cannot get out of your own feelings, thoughts and ego - do not do the reading. You need to practice this above all else - how to remain detached. There is no judgement when it comes to these. You enter with love,

3. Bringing love into the reading:

No one deserves a reading regardless of if it is a constellation or just an observation where you are bringing shitty energy with you. You come into the constellation/reading with love and understanding only. If the client doesn’t know what they’re doing, if they dont know how to feel, if they are making the wrong decisions, you understand. I understand how you feel. Do you want to move past it? No? I understand with love, lets move you where YOU want to go then. If they want to move past it that requires a constellation and I know none of you are trained in that DO NOT MOVE THEM. DO NOT TELL THEM HOW OR WHERE THEY SHOULD MOVE UNLESS YOU ARE A CERTIFIED FACILITATOR. No ands if or buts, you are not experienced. Do not move them. Observing the energy, following THEM, never changing the energy FOR them unless asked by them. 

4. If the topic of grief comes up like that of Seb’s reading where they have fallen into a depression, you leave that reading. The only reason i continued was because whatever spirit it was that showed up felt like it came for a reason and made itself known to me in a way that couldn't be denied, and asked for assistance. And I knew how to deal with moving through grief. That barely ever happens, and the energy was good and true so i followed it (I was spooked initially i hate all things ghosts). I didnt offer anything up to Sebastian in that moment than for a way for him to connect with that grief and the person who had died. I could have left him there, but If i can help someone with that grief and the permission has been given, then I will do so. I didn’t do a huge constellation, just a mini one, just got him back in touch and feeling ok again, and he did. Those two had a chat with each other, there was no advice given, it was just one soul giving love to another soul and reminding them how loved they are. It wasnt me saying this to seb, it was me representing the soul who was saying it through me. Do you notice the difference? I’m telling you this only to know what happens, but do not do it yourself. Unless you are experienced with this, because they can also not find comfort in this, they can fall even further down the hole and then you’ve messed up that person. One more time: Don’t touch it, unless you can get them out of it. And you can’t get them out, unless you are experienced. Observe. Only. 

5. It’s important to understand psychology before jumping into someone’s energy. Otherwise you’re understanding only the very basics of said person. There’s many underlying reasons as to why someone is the way that they are. Saying they’re a drug addict will help you very little, but understanding how that addiction came to be in the first place can help you understand and guide them.

Here are some tools to help understand (Reading these does not substitute practicing energy reading, these are only a tool to understand trauma, addiction, and psychology):

It Didn’t Start With You - Mark Wolynn

The Body Keeps Score - Bessel Van Der Kolk

When the Body says No - Gabor Mate

In the realm of Hungry Ghosts - Gabor Mate

If you can’t be bothered to read them (I would advise it if you are doing energy work), here are some of the best sections: 

[Keep in mind when “Addiction” is referenced, it does not always mean drug or alcohol abuse, you can be addicted to anything, from being addicted to companionship, to being addicted to cleaning]

“Perhaps your mother carried a wound from her mother and was unable to give you what she didn’t get. Her parenting skills would be limited by what she did not receive from her parents.”

― Mark Wolynn,

It Didn't Start with You: How Inherited Family Trauma Shapes Who We Are and How to End the Cycle

“Cutting off can make you feel free at first, but it’s the false freedom of a childhood defense. Ultimately, it will limit your life experience.”

― Mark Wolynn,

It Didn't Start with You: How Inherited Family Trauma Shapes Who We Are and How to End the Cycle

When the family has been brought into its natural order, the individual can leave it behind him while still feeling the strength of his family supporting him. Only when the connection to his family is acknowledged, and the person's responsibility seen clearly and then distributed, can the individual feel unburdened and go about his personal affairs without anything from the past weighing him down or holding him back. - Bert Hellinger (Psychologist, created Family Constellations)

“It is impossible to understand addiction without asking what relief the addict finds, or hopes to find, in the drug or the addictive behaviour.”

― Gabor Mate,

In the Realm of Hungry Ghosts: Close Encounters with Addiction

“to suffer is alot easier than change. in order to be happy one needs to have courage.“ - Bert Hellinger

“Until we uncover the actual triggering event in our family history, we can relive fears and feelings that don’t belong to us—unconscious fragments of a trauma—and we will think they’re ours.”

― Mark Wolynn,

It Didn't Start with You: How Inherited Family Trauma Shapes Who We Are and How to End the Cycle

“when a couple has children, parenting often consumes all the partners' energies and they have little time left over for their relationship with each other. But the love the parents have their children is nourished by the love in their relationship with each other and is a result of that love. Often, if the couple relationship is restored to first priority, the parenting improves aswell. Above all, children feel happy when they have the experience of having parents who love each other." - Bert Hellinger

“It’s important to restate: not all behaviors expressed by us actually originate from us. They can easily belong to family members who came before us. We can merely be carrying the feelings for them or sharing them. We call these “identification feelings.”

― Mark Wolynn,

It Didn't Start with You: How Inherited Family Trauma Shapes Who We Are and How to End the Cycle

"You don't truly love someone until you love their fate, too." - Bert Hellinger

“Not every story has a happy ending, ... but the discoveries of science, the teachings of the heart, and the revelations of the soul all assure us that no human being is ever beyond redemption. The possibility of renewal exists so long as life exists. How to support that possibility in others and in ourselves is the ultimate question.” ― Gabor Maté, In the Realm of Hungry Ghosts: Close Encounters with Addiction “When an inner situation is not made conscious, it happens outside as fate. —Carl Jung, Aion: Researches into the Phenomenology of the Self” ― Mark Wolynn, It Didn't Start with You: How Inherited Family Trauma Shapes Who We Are and How to End the Cycle

“The greatest damage done by neglect, trauma or emotional loss is not the immediate pain they inflict but the long-term distortions they induce in the way a developing child will continue to interpret the world and her situation in it. All too often these ill-conditioned implicit beliefs become self-fulfilling prophecies in our lives. We create meanings from our unconscious interpretation of early events, and then we forge our present experiences from the meaning we’ve created. Unwittingly, we write the story of our future from narratives based on the past...Mindful awareness can bring into consciousness those hidden, past-based perspectives so that they no longer frame our worldview.’Choice begins the moment you disidentify from the mind and its conditioned patterns, the moment you become present…Until you reach that point, you are unconscious.’ …In present awareness we are liberated from the past.” ― Gabor Maté, In the Realm of Hungry Ghosts: Close Encounters with Addiction “Once key connections are made, and we practice focusing on our healing images and experiences, we lay the groundwork for new neural pathways. Healing can then be surprisingly efficient.” ― Mark Wolynn, It Didn't Start with You: How Inherited Family Trauma Shapes Who We Are and How to End the Cycle

“Not why the addiction but why the pain.” ― Gabor Maté “When I am sharply judgmental of any other person, it's because I sense or see reflected in them some aspect of myself that I don't want to acknowledge.” ― Gabor Maté, In the Realm of Hungry Ghosts: Close Encounters with Addiction

“If people are addicted to self-soothing behaviours, it's only because in their formative years they did not receive the soothing they needed. Such understanding helps delete toxic self-judgment on the past and supports responsibility for the now. Hence the need for compassionate self-inquiry.” ― Gabor Maté, In the Realm of Hungry Ghosts: Close Encounters with Addiction

“Emotional competence requires the capacity to feel our emotions, so that we are aware when we are experiencing stress; the ability to express our emotions effectively and thereby to assert our needs and to maintain the integrity of our emotional boundaries; the facility to distinguish between psychological reactions that are pertinent to the present situation and those that represent residue from the past. What we want and demand from the world needs to conform to our present needs, not to unconscious, unsatisfied needs from childhood. If distinctions between past and present blur, we will perceive loss or the threat of loss where none exists; and the awareness of those genuine needs that do require satisfaction, rather than their repression for the sake of gaining the acceptance or approval of others. Stress occurs in the absence of these criteria, and it leads to the disruption of homeostasis.”

― Gabor Maté, When the Body Says No: The Cost of Hidden Stress “All of the diagnoses that you deal with - depression, anxiety, ADHD, bipolar illness, post traumatic stress disorder, even psychosis, are significantly rooted in trauma. They are manifestations of trauma. Therefore the diagnoses don't explain anything. The problem in the medical world is that we diagnose somebody and we think that is the explanation. He's behaving that way because he is psychotic. She's behaving that way because she has ADHD. Nobody has ADHD, nobody has psychosis - these are processes within the individual. It's not a thing that you have. This is a process that expresses your life experience. It has meaning in every single case.” Vulnerability is our susceptibility to be wounded. This fragility is part of our nature and cannot be escaped. The best the brain can do is to shut down conscious awareness of it when pain becomes so vast or unbearable that it threatens our ability to function. The automatic repression of painful emotion is a helpful child's prime defence mechanism and can enable the child to endure trauma otherwise be catastrophic. The unfortunate consequence is a wholesale dulling of emotional awareness.” ― Gabor Maté, In the Realm of Hungry Ghosts: Close Encounters with Addiction Here are also the QNA’s I have done that are in relation to how Energy works (This is not a replacement for actual practice, knowing this is NOT ENOUGH)  I will continue to add to this with anything that I find would help. I’m hoping you guys take this seriously, and don’t attempt anything that could potentially harm yourself or others in a reading.