#the compass to my boat

[mystery-star]

Russell Crowe as Jack Aubrey and James D'Arcy as Tom Pullings in Master and Commander (2003)

[otaku553]

God I have so many thoughts about suzume,,

[intertexts-moving]

soo many of u guys on this website are like. offputtingly angry and vicious and slavering at at the mouth to gloat at bad things happening to some nebulous incarnation of 'rich evil people'.

[sombreset]

.

[karemandohan1999]

365 days since the war in Gaza🇵🇸

One Year After the War in Gaza: A Never-Ending Nightmare

It has now been a year since the war on Gaza began, and yet the suffering continues. The people of Gaza are trapped in a relentless cycle of devastation, poverty, and despair. Homes, schools, and hospitals have been reduced to rubble. Families who once had a future now struggle to survive each day in unimaginable conditions. The lack of clean water, food, and electricity has turned daily life into a constant fight for survival.

The health system is on the verge of collapse, with few resources left to care for the countless injured and ill. Children, who should be growing up in safety, instead bear the scars of war—physically and emotionally. They go to sleep hungry and wake up to the sounds of bombs, if they can sleep at all.

My husband and I have lost many important people to us 👇👇👇👇

I am Kareman Dohan, a Palestinian mother and educator. Before the war, I taught young children, hoping to shape a better future for them. But that future was destroyed when my school was bombed, and I lost my job. My husband, Ayman Alwan, was a fisherman, but our boat—the only source of income we had—was shattered and lost to the sea.

The most heartbreaking part of our struggle is watching our son, Hamoud, suffer. He is just 17 months old, and due to the lack of food and access to clean water, he is now malnourished. No parent should have to witness their child in pain, hungry, and helpless. Every day feels like a fight for survival, with bombs constantly raining down on us. We live in fear, knowing that at any moment, our lives could end.

All we want is to escape this nightmare, to find a safe place where we can start over, but we simply do not have the means to do so. My son needs urgent care, proper nutrition, and a future where he can grow without the shadow of war hanging over him. We are trying with all our might, but the burden has become too heavy to carry alone.

I am pleading for your help, for your compassion, for your generosity. Any donation, any act of kindness, can give my family the hope we so desperately need. Your support could save us from despair, and we will be forever grateful.

Donate and share

Donation Link 👇

[justsingersandbeats]

Eh, go mad with it just keep your voice down though. Don't exactly wanna wake the others.

Mind you, this is coming from somebody who has daydreamed about beating the crap out of people who won't shut up so. Go off Alto.

Alto: Right.

@thatonepurpleshape

Alto: We fought so much alone.

Alto: Just four teens and a kid against the entire damn world.

Alto: Nobody outside of my family, Piccolo, and the other three even KNOWS what we've gone through.

Alto: And it's still better that way, and- still-

@anonymous-red-shades

First / Previous / Next

[anthonyspage]

⛵️🌊🧭🪙☠️👩⚔️🔫

[dexlexia]

how to deal with 3 warlords (while pregnant) - cross guild x reader

pairing: dracule mihawk x buggy the clown x reader x crocdile rating: 18+ summary: Three warlords, three of the most vicious men in all of the world. And somehow, someway they are at your beck and call. What started out as an arrangement with Sir Crocodile turned into a liaison with Mihawk and somewhere along the way you ended up in bed with the clown. tags: long fic (over 5k), polyam!cross guild, smut, pwp, table sex, couch sex, lingerie, slight possessive behaviour, good ol' time, fingering, outdoor sex, clothed sex, cowgirl position.

join me on discord! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Three warlords, three of the most vicious men in all of the world. And somehow,someway they are at your beck and call. What started out as an arrangement with Sir Crocodile turned into a liaison with Mihawk and somewhere along the way you ended up in bed with the clown. 

Now you were living quite well in a large manor on some island in the southeast. You spent most of your days reading, you had even taken up a little gardening. Anything you wanted the Cross Guild got for you. Not many people were living like you on the Grand Line. 

Then it happened. You ended up pregnant by one of the idiots. One of the three men was the father of your child. You expected to be on the next boat off the island, but none of the men were willing to send you off. They wanted to make sure their little lady was taken care of. While they bicker over who the father was, they each made sure you were taken care of. 

  ”Can't you hurt now.“ Crocodile told you as he brushed his fingers through your hair, ”If it isn't my brat this time, it will be next time.“ And he almost smiled around the cigar in his mouth.

So that was how you became the lovely wife to three of the most dangerous men on the high seas. And sometimes you wished their boat would sink. 

At six months pregnant it wasn't easy to get around, you spent most days rubbing the sore spot in your back and hobbling around the manor. Most of the time the men kept to themselves and allowed you freedom to roam around the place. 

There was something about the manor you quite enjoyed, even if the men barely got along they still cared deeply for you. You had the pleasure of being called more beautiful than any treasure. But it was Buggy who told you that and then he promptly passed out from too much liquor. So the compliment only went so far. 

It was a home, even with three fearsome men, you still were happy. You thought of it as a way to keep the men in check. You were like the glue that held them together or prevented them from killing one another. It wasn't easy work but it was your work. 

-

You rubbed your achy lower back and huffed, ”You better come out easy, or we're going to have a problem.“ You then poked your swollen middle. Your current wardrobe was clothing that belonged to the men. You hadn't had much time to find cuter clothes so you often were dressed like a mob boss or a gothic swordsman or a fucking clown. But none of them men minded, to be fair they'd preferred if you were naked. You however refused to give them the satisfaction.

You weren't a toy to be ogled at, and if any of them treated you like an object they'd be out on the yard before they could finish their sentence. You refused to raise a child to believe that a woman would be under a man. Even if their father was a warlord you'd teach them compassion and kindness in an unforgiving world. 

It was the least you could do. So even with the aches and pains you were happy to carry such a precious gift. You gave your belly and soft pat, ”I'm not mad at you“ You said, ”I just want everything to go smoothly, I'm excited to meet you. And the boys will love you too. They might be a bit much but you'll always have a home.“ 

  ”Talking to the baby again, I see.“ You heard.

  ”Crocodile.“ You responded as you looked up from your swollen middle. Hand on your lower back once more, ”I thought you were busy, Mihawk told me that.“  

You'd say out of the three of them, Crocodile was the most ”attentive“, there was a charm to him that you couldn't deny. You understood why he was able to charm his way through Alabasta. But anything you needed he got for you without question. He often enjoyed your pregnant state, the idea that he bred you so well left him excited. Such a good girl carrying his spawn, and if it happened that the baby belonged to the swordsman or the clown, he'd make sure that next time he finished the job. 

  ”I'm never too busy for you. Where are you going anyway?“ He asked,“If you need something, I will get it fo you.” He approached you and leaned down to caress your bump, “You will need for nothing. You should be resting.“

  ”I have to move sometimes, Crocodile. Even with the pains in my lower back.“ You huffed as you rubbed the sore spot, ”Can't be bed bound forever.“ 

He chuckled and kissed the top of your head, ”If you wanted a back rub you should've come to my office. Mihawk is too rough with you and the clown is an idiot. So why don't we get what you need and head to the bedroom.“ He leaned further down and kissed you on the lips.

You cupped his face and looked at him, ”If you can get me the ice pop from the freezer in the kitchen I'll happily accept your offer.“ And gave him the biggest puppy dog eyes you could muster. 

He chuckled, ”You always know how to get your way.“ Then took you by the hand, ”Why don't get go before the clown takes all of them.“ Then he started to slowly walk to the kitchen on the lower level.

The warlord had a soft spot for you, he was enamoured by you. You were so small compared to him yet you held your own. The kind of woman who would bear his young. 

Soon you were seated at the massive dinner table happily enjoying the blue ice pop that was in the freezer with your back turned to Crocodile. His hand was on your back slowly massaging the aches and pains on your lower back. You could tell he was getting aroused by the closeness to you. You smiled to yourself as he rubbed at your back. 

  ”How's the child doing?” He asked as the hooked hand reached around you and carefully rubbed your bump, “Is he behaving?”

You chuckled, “We don't know the gender of the baby.” And took another bite of the cold treat, “You better not be disappointed if they're a girl."

He chuckled and pressed at a sore spot on your back, ”I could never, not with you.“ Then pulled away, "You're still a marvellous sight, even this far in. You're a beauty to behold, little one.“ Then leaned in to get a good feeling on the tenseness of your lower back, ”You're a good girl, right?“

You turned your head to look at him, ”You're not just being nice for sex are you?“ You reached over and stroked his face, ”Right?“

He moved back a little, “No, of course, I'd only have sex with you, with you permission.” He swallowed. Only the warlord would get nervous around you.

You chuckled and patted him on the cheek, “Why don't you finish this up for me.” You placed the ice pop in his mouth and moved off the chair. You hiked up the shirt that looked like a dress as you hoisted yourself onto the lavish dining table with a huff. It's hard to be sexy when you're so pregnant. 

  “Oh?” He said, “And here I thought you wanted a massage. But if there's something you desire, I'm happy to provide.” He smirked at you as he got up from the other chair.  He stood in front of you and admired you, such a beautiful woman in his eyes. 

Crocodile was such a fearsome man but here he was in front of you, with a glint in his eye as he watched you unbutton the shirt you wore and soon revealed your almost naked form. He had noticed that your breasts had gotten a bit bigger during the time you were pregnant so far, and that only made the man smirk. 

  “Let's get you out of those." He remarked as he helped you out of your underwear, you held onto his broad shoulders as he slipped them off of you. He placed your bum back down on the table and carefully spread your legs. His hook grazed at the soft flesh of your inner thigh and he carefully licked his hip lip.

  ”Don't stare at me like I'm meat, Crocodile.“ You remarked as you held onto the front of his shirt, all three of the men admired you but you had to warn them sometimes not to view you like a slab of meat for sale. They were yours as much as you were theirs, there would be a level of respect you demanded. 

You didn't think it was too much to ask considering you were carrying one of their children, you weren't a broodmare goddamnit! 

He reached over and patted you on the head, his face got closer to yours as he smiled at you, ”Don't you worry, baby. I would never. You're less like meat and more like the finest gold in all of the blue.“ His broad hand reached to your cheek and rubbed it, ”The others should be lucky I even let you in the same room as them.“ Then kissed you on the forehead. He carefully held your legs open for him, he exhaled deeply as he admired your sweet sex, ”Now let's get the show on the road before the others find us.“ Then with a little help from you, he slid his cock into you. 

Taking him was like a punch in the gut sometimes, even when he was being slow. He was just so BIG. It was hard to take him all at once. But he took his time, he didn't want to leave you too sore. His hand was on your waist as he started to thrust into you. The hook on his other hand held onto the side of the table for support. He leaned down and kissed at your neck, ”That's it.“ He said almost breathless against your neck, ”There we go. Such a good girl.“ 

The table made small noises as it was pushed ever so slightly across the carpeted floor. But you didn't pay much mind to it, you were too concerned with the feeling of euphoria that came over you. It was a great feeling, even with the minor stretch you were in good hands with the warlord. 

  ”Crocodile.“ You said softly, ”Fuck.“ 

He chuckled, his warm skin was pressed up against you, ”I know, you like when we have sex. I wouldn't have it with anyone else, those other idiots should be lucky that they get to have a taste of you.“ His voice was low, there was a possessive edge to it that sent a shiver up your spine. While the agreement worked you knew that Crocodile would rather have you all to yourself.

The sex was quiet and secretive. Hot breathing and soft moans filled the air of the lavish dining room. Crocodile's larger body stayed around you as he thrusted up into you. But even the warlord couldn't keep his composure for long.

  ”I want you to finish at the same time as me, baby.“ He said hotly into your ear, ”I want to feel you get very tight around me when you finish. Can you do that for me?“ His breathing was rapid and his shirt was sticking to his muscular back as he thrusted up into you. 

You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment as you felt the wave of pleasure over your body, ”I can do that.“ You panted. Your body jolted with the thrusts, your pregnant belly and heavy breasts moved with each thrust of his hips. 

He pulled you into a deep kiss, he even explored your mouth with his tongue while the intense feeling of climax took hold. It wasn't long before you were clinging onto him for dear life, you belly pressed against him. Then with one last thrust of his cock, you moaned into his mouth and climaxed at the same time as him. You let out a sharp squeak before a primal groan as you felt the wash of pleasure through your system. It made you go lightheaded. 

Soon Crocodile pulled away and patted you on the cheek. He looked over at the half melted popsicle beside you. Between his breaths he said, “Let me get you another one.” then leaned in for one last kiss. The thrill of pleasure still coursed through his body. He cleared his throat and asked, “Blue, right?”

You giggled, your head still a haze and replied, “Or we could go again?” And spread your legs a little further. And what kind of husband would Crocodile be if he didn't give in to his wife's request?

-

It had been about a week since your encounter with Crocodile. And while you were achy for days later, it wouldn't be the last time you'd have sex. Mihawk had just come back from a trip abroad and while he brought nothing for the other men, he was more than happy to show you what he got you. 

You were now almost seven months and the baby in you was feeling a lot more active, which made you out of breath a lot of the time. But you were determined to see what the swordsman got you. One of the gifts was a lovely dress made for someone as far along as you and while it was a little tight around the belly, you were happy Mihawk even thought of you. 

But there was still more he wanted to show you. The other men were out of the manor, so you went looking for Mihawk. You were occupied all morning with prepping for dinner, between the three warlords not a single one of them knew how to properly cook. They were as clueless in the kitchen as they were competent in combat. So it was just easier for you to cook, there was less of a chance that a fire would break out. 

 “Mihawk!” You called out as you climbed the long staircase upstairs. You peeked into the rooms until you found the man in his study. You let yourself in.

  “You know you can't just- oh, I didn't hear you, my love.” He got up from his chair at the desk, “You shouldn't be putting so much strain on yourself. Come.” He guided you to the old style leather couch at the other end of the room, “You should be resting.” 

  “Well I heard that someone bought me presents while away, and I want my presents.” You smiled at him as you tried to get comfortable on the chair, “Can you blame me?”

 “I'm sorry, I should've found you sooner.” he replied, “Let me get them for you.“ He quickly left the room only to swiftly return with delicately wrapped gifts in hand. He put them on the table in front of you then sat beside you. He watched you with careful eyes as you grabbed the first one. His lips were close to your ear as he said, “Open it.”

It was a floral patterned wrapping paper and underneath was a black box with a white ribbon tied around it, there was a note attached to it that read, ”Forever yours, Mihawk.“ You turned to look at him and he softly kissed you. You then went back to opening the box. It wasn't long until you discovered the contents of the gift. Inside in a bed of tissue paper was burgundy lingerie. 

You turned to look at Mihawk who had his eyes on you. You said to him, ”You shouldn't have.“

He tilted his head to the side, ”What I paid for is nothing compared to how much you're worth. It should fit you.“ His hand played with your hair gently, ”Will you try it on for me?“ And smiled when you slowly stood up, he even carefully supported you while you moved. 

You responded, “Of course.”  With gentle hands you pulled the bra and matching panties out. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw how little fabric there was. You guessed he was right, it would fit if there was nothing to put on. You felt his eyes on you as he got up and started to undress you.

His hands found your swollen middle and he sighed contently, “You've been taking care of him while I've been gone. Good girl.” 

You turned around to him and started to take the dress off, “You men are so possessive. I'm your wife, not a broodmare.” You reminded him.

He leaned in for a kiss and before he did it, he replied, “Of course, I could never remember you as anything but my wife. I am just glad that the others weren't too rough with you. I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you.” 

  “Nothing will ever happen to me, I have the best protection on the planet.” You said as you stepped out of your dress. Soon your undergarments came off and he slowly put the pieces on you. 

You noticed right away that in the crotch area, there was an opening. You looked at him with a bit and shock and he got even closer to you. His bare chest was pushed against you and his hand dipped down between your legs. 

  “It's your gift. But under my conditions.” He remarked before he pushed two fingers inside of you. His skillful digits massaged the inside of your pussy and felt just right that you went on your tippy toes and clutched onto him. 

Your nipples grew hard from the sensation and them being practically exposed. Your cheeks grew warm and he went in for another kiss. You held onto him tightly as the pleasure raced through you. This felt amazing. 

Mihawk's favourite position was when he had you so close to his bigger form and fingered you. He prioritised your pleasure first, he wanted to see every expression you made when he pleasured you. He wanted to see and hear how good it was for you. And he was one to never disappoint. Those sharp gold eyes trained on you as he brought you into his lap with your legs open and facing the door. He kissed your neck while you panted and moaned. 

His other hand wandered your bump, “I want it to be mine, I want you to bear me a child who'll truly be the greatest. I have high hopes that it'll be mine.” Then left a deep bruise on your neck.

Your moans often got stuck in your throat from the immense pleasure that Mihawk was giving you. You hooked your hands under your knees to give him a better angle, with your back pressed against his chest.

The thrusts of his fingers were powerful and left your head spinning. This was euphoric. Soon his hand was on your breast and he skilfully fondled it as he continued to finger you at a punishing pace.

Your moans rung clear in the office while he pleasures you on the couch. At least your wetness can easily be cleaned off the leather. Your eyes rolled back as you gripped your thighs in a heightened pleasure.

  “So good for me.” He praised, “A beautiful woman I am able to give pleasure to, it's an honour.” He knew your heart was racing, he could probably feel it. He continued to kiss at your neck as his pace quickened even more. 

Your toes curled in the intense feeling and you moaned loudly as you rolled your hips in time with his movement which caused your breasts and belly to bounce. The knowledge of that made Mihawk's cock twitch in his pants. You really were a remarkable woman. 

He pinched at your nipple and your moans got louder. You pussy clenched around his fingers and he groaned into your flushed skin, ”So perfect.“ he thumb gazed at your clit and you practically jumped but you didn't get too far. He pulled you back in and you got louder as he pleasured you further.

You felt a grip around you as hot pleasure raced through your body. Your core felt on fire from the sensation. And Mihawk thought it was divine.  You looked angelic, especially when he hit just the right spot and you climaxed. 

He groaned into your skin as you tightened around his fingers. You tensed for a moment before you relaxed against him and tried to catch your breath. Yor head was spinning but you felt safe in Mihawk's arms. 

  ”How was that?“ He asked, ”You looked divine when I was pleasuring you. Do you want more?“

You exhaled deeply and slowly got up. You stood in front of him, ”Well.“ You said, ”Let's see how resilient this lace is?“ Then slowly he brought you back to the couch with the full intention of seeing what 'damage' he could do before the other men came home. 

-

Buggy was home the most, while the other two had matters to attend to off the island, Buggy was well Buggy. He was a fearsome clown but you spent the most time with him. You enjoyed his company, even when it was something as simple as watching over you while you gardened. 

It was the middle of summer and everyone was in their own little corner of the house. You were out in the garden behind the manor waddling around with a watering can in hand. You were tending to the roses portion of the garden before you moved on to the strawberries nearby. 

You didn't mind the alone time, it gave you time to think. You tried not to get too anxious about how your life is going to change once the baby is born. It felt so far away yet so close. Before the first autumn leaves you were going to be a mother! And at times it left you rather anxious. 

You shook off the thoughts while you poured the water over the roses. You heard the back door open and close. You turned to look over and saw Buggy. And when your eyes met, he broke out into a grin. 

  ”Well there you are, my peanut!“ Then made strides to get closer to you. You quickly noticed in his hand was your large sun hat. He approached and placed it on your head, ”I don't think now is the best time to get a sunburn. You know Crocodile will kill you.“ Then leaned in for a kiss. 

While the other two were mysterious, Buggy seemed normal in comparison. Well, for a clown pirate anyway. He had a very sweet spot for you and while you hadn't seen much of his feared nature, you enjoyed your time with him. He was an open book to you.

  ”You know one of us can do that, like you don't have to keep coming out here. Especially alone, what if you slip on some mud or like... A bird drops a rock on your head!" 

You laughed, ”Buggy, I think I have bigger things to worry about than a bird."

He shrugged before he took the watering can from you, “I'd hate to see anything happen to ya, so let's go. It's time for  a break!” Then placed it down before he guided you away from the garden and towards the shade under the largest tree on the property. 

He helped you down onto the grass and he went in for another kiss. He moaned against your lips as gloved hands cupped your face. It was almost romantic if not for the heat between your kisses. Your heart jumped.

  “You shouldn't be out here all alone, angel. What if someone hurt you? What if someone took you from me?“ He stared down at you.

You smiled back at him and reached out for him. You placed a hand on his cheek and assured him, ”No one would ever dare.“ Then went in for another kiss.You felt excitement race though you as he laid down in the grass with you on top of him. 

  ”Good, because you're mine, peanut. Just like that kid in your belly.“ He grinned at you and nodded. Soon with the help of his powers one of his hands reached down, detached from his body and lifted up your dress. He slipped his hand under and found the less than stylish maternity underwear you wore. 

  ”What do you think you're doing, clown?“ You asked, as you held his face, ”Did you come to check on me so you could fuck me?“ 

He laughed, ”Of course not, having sex with you is just a bonus!“ Then with another hand, pull down the underwear to the middle of your thigh, ”C'mon, then afterwards I'll even help ya water the garden. Seeing you all domestic has really turned me on.” Then he grabbed your ass. 

You moaned and he pulled you in for a searing kiss. He continued to gab at your ass as the kiss deepened. He pulled you dress up further to expose your bare ass to the afternoon air. 

  “You drive me crazy.“ He remarked before he created a bit of room between you two to get his cock out of his pants, ”So why don't you be a good girl and get me off.“ He beamed at you. 

You squeezed his nose between your thumb and pointer finger, ”And what do we say with that, Buggy?“

He frowned suddenly, ”Please. Please angel, sugar, honey, peanut, please, please!“ His cock was out of his pants and pressed into your swollen middle, ”I'd love to see that belly bounce while ya ride me.“  Then he attached both hands to his wrists and held onto your waist. ”I want you.“

You chuckled and held onto the bottom of your dress so a bit of your belly was exposed as you eated yourself onto him. You held his hand for support as you slowly seated yourself onto him. You exhaled deeply, “Yeah.“

  ”Doing alright there, peanut?“ He asked as he rubbed your hip with his free hand, ”That's it, good girl.“

You moaned as you started to roll your hips.  You held onto his hand and the bottom of your dress while you rolled your hips. You felt his cock nudge against the most sensitive spots. For a clown he was a good fuck.

Your eyes closed and your mouth slightly opened as you moved faster.  Buggy groaned and soon both hands were on your hips as he tried to meet your pace. “Shit.” You moaned as you felt pleasure spread through your body like warm butter on hot toast. Your cheeks were flushed as you continued to move your body. 

The two of you went at it, you kept the pace steady. It was getting quicker but the depths that he pushed against made you see stars behind your eyelids. Your heart raced as you moved against him. The feeling of overwhelming moments. Sex with Buggy left you breathless as it did with the other men. You were glad that your pussy could take a beating. The thought made you smirk for a second before you felt his thumb rub up against your clit. 

You jolted up but he used his other hand to keep you back down on his cock. He chuckled, “You're not getting away that easily, angel. I know I make you feel good, that's why the brat in ya is mine. His hand moved to your belly to feel around it while he played with your clit.

You felt moans bubble up in your throat as you rode him. You picked up the pace as the swirl of pleasure moved in the pit of your stomach. Your breathing was rapid as your belly moved with your movements. A sight the clown would never get out of his mind. His girl pregnant with his brat riding him on a sunny afternoon, he couldn't luck out more than this!

Soon the pleasure became an overwhelming feeling for both of you. He handed onto your belly with both hands as he pushed up deeper into you. Your coe felt soaked from the stimulation of his cock as you thrust your hips. Soon your hands were over his on your bump as you moved as fast as your pregnant body would allow.

Buggy's eyes rolled back as he gripped onto your belly, your dress fell back down over the bump as you two met each other's pace. Pleasure coursed through you and you tilted your head back in an attempt to catch your breath as you moved. 

You felt your dress cling to your sweaty back as the two of you made love under the sun. The feeling was euphoric. You reached down and grabbed him by the font of his shirt as you felt on the very tip of orgasm.

The moa got caught in your throat as you climaxed. You tightened around him and he soo finished off too inside of you. He painted your inside white as he let out a loud groan and went limp on the ground. 

You slid off of him, cum stained your inner thigh. You wiped the sweat from your forehead and said, ”C'mon now, Buggy. You have to help me water strawberries.“ But his hands, that were detached from his wrists, pulled your dress up once more.

Soon he was on top of you, squishing your belly as he said between ragged breaths, ”Not until I make you scream, peanut.“ With a wild grin on his face. 

[featherandferns]

5. “Ah Yes. Betrayl, I’m Familiar With That”

22. “You’re My Best Friend” Angst Pleaseee

🫂❤️‍🩹

21. "You're my best friend"

I've actually already done prompt 5 (read wasps here) and prompt 21 ("You're my best friend" is 21 not 22), so I just did an angsty prompt 21 instead of redoing both- I hope that's okay! <3

Season 4 spoilers kind of? Just episode 1 vibes.

Promise - prompt 21

JJ Maybank was designed for you to fall in love with him. It ran deeper than his looks; penetrated through the flesh. His personality was interwoven with his beauty the way his veins lined his muscles and skin. All the idiosyncrasies that made him up in flaws and faults, like his recklessness and his impulsiveness, were nothing but charms in your eyes. He caused trouble wherever he went the way a hurricane accidentally leaves a wake in its path. You chased that trouble like a storm chaser: compass and map and get-away car at hand, just for him. 

By the wonder of fate, you ended up by his side. It was as though the universe placed you there - as if you and JJ were born from the same star dust, destined to find one another in the next life. From childhood, you were in the picture. Offering him a place to stay when his dad was in one of his blind, drunk rages. Giggling through pier jumping adventures and screaming through cheesy horror flicks. Later, older, he was there after your first “heartbreak” and you were there to hear about his cunning escapades with a random girl on the island, his virginity no longer a mark on his name. And with this age came realisations and ramifications. With this age came thoughts and feelings that were new and alien to you. The kind that warps one’s perception. The kind that frames someone in new ways under new titles. JJ Maybank went from being your snotty, scheming long-lasting friend, into your crush. The more time you spent in his orbit, the closer you were drawn. And so, as designed, you fell in love with him. 

He was hard to read and harder to decipher. A flirt, no doubt, though less so as the Pogue-centred adventures grew. His carelessness diminished somewhat when the stakes grew. When the sight of blood and dead bodies became shy of the norm, even compared to his youth in his father’s shadow. John B and Sarah went and with that, JJ came. Closer to you than ever. Needing you more than before. Restless nights and lonely days which you were more than happy to fill, needing him just as much. Nothing beyond cuddles and shared beds. A kiss that never strayed more than a cheek or forehead. Then, reunited with the formerly missing Pogues, came his lightness once more. But that distance didn’t come: he was still just as close. Almost attainable. Poguelandia and El Dorado felt like fever dreams in this light. The one constant was JJ, no matter what, and you the same for him. 

Now, settled, JJ’s old Maybank home rebuilt and remade, the bait-and-surf shop up and running, the gang tethered together through trauma and triumph: you finally felt like everything was falling into place, the same way you had fallen for JJ. 

“I might just sleep out here tonight,” JJ tells you. He’s lying by your side on the newly fixed up boat. The two of you are staring up at the sky, slowly starting to fill with stars, slowly losing the colour of daylight. 

“You’ll be dinner for the skeeters,” you say. 

He shrugs. “Circle of life, I guess.”

Laughing quietly, you turn your head. His hair is short again - dirty blonde, sunkissed highlights. The small jut of his chin and the slope of his nose. The high press of his cheekbones from his small, lingering smile. At the feel of your gaze, he turns his head too. An air of amusement brushes over him; has him almost laughing, quirking a brow. 

“What?”

“Nothing,” you hum. Your own smile falters and your stomach churns. The words are brewing deep within you like a slow, roasting broth. They’d been there for years now, waiting to slip out, and you felt like you can’t hold it down much longer. JJ’s own smile fades into a look of worry, mirroring your own anxiety. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you repeat, lying. “I just…I’m just happy.”

His lips twitch upward again. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’m happy you finally have a home, JJ,” you quietly say. 

Visibly moved by your sentiment, his hand reaches out for yours, lying limp on the cool plastic exterior of the boat. He squeezes your hand in his. Smiles at you. Holds your gaze. As if drawn in by some outside force, you lean over. Your eyes slip shut and your lips find his, and there, you plant a gentle, soft kiss. It’s no more than a peck. No more than a fleeting, almost phantom moment of weakness. Lingering, lips no more than a centimetre from his, you wait. Wait for some absolution that you hoped might come. 

JJ clears his throat. His hand slips from yours. Your heart cracks like the break of an ice surface as he sits up, sort of hurried. You sit up too. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask, knowing fully well what the answer is. 

JJ is reaching for his boots that he took off an hour or so ago. He meddles with the laces. Not looking at you, he mumbles, “why’d you have to do that?”

“What?”

“Everything was…God, why the fuck did you have to do that?” he repeats, frustrated, maybe even angry. 

Your eyes sting and your heart burns and it starts to feel as though you’re slipping away from yourself. “I don’t know. I just…I just figured–”

“--Well, you shouldn’t have,” JJ snaps, his head darting up. Your eyes meet his and there’s this panic there, deep and damning. You feel damned. 

“I’m sorry,” you say. Sorry for what? For kissing him? For thinking that he might feel the same? For hoping that he might? 

JJ shakes his head and looks back at his boots. His frantic movements stop, fingers mixed with his laces. “Why’d you have to do that, huh? Everything was finally how it should be and now…Now it’s all messed up.”

“Messed up? No, no, it doesn’t…We can just forget about it,” you hurriedly say. You grab at his forearm, wanting his attention, now for a whole new reason. “We can just pretend it never happened.”

“Why’d you do it?”

“I don’t know. I just thought that maybe, with everything that’s happened, maybe you might feel the same way,” you stammer. 

JJ’s eyes slip shut. It’s as though you gave him the diagnosis to a disease he always dreaded. “We can’t.”

You’re not sure what he’s alluding to with that. We can’t pretend it never happened? We can’t move forward? We can’t be friends? 

“You’re my best friend,” you whisper. “I don’t want to lose you.”

JJ gnaws at his lower lip. You sit and wait and hope and pray that you haven’t managed to tear apart years of friendship with one stupid moment of idiocy. Ironic how JJ lived his life in spur-of-the-moment choices but the second you make one, it might haunt you forever. Eventually, as if in slow motion, he looks at you. There’s a sadness in his eyes as though he knows what he says will pain you, and your heart takes pause as you wait. His lips move wordlessly at first and then, sighing, he finds the words. 

“I’m in love with Kiara.”

You feel like bleeding ink on a page. Like you have no mass or place of purchase. Like any meaning you ascribed to anything is now without, soulless and baseless; a work of fiction, like some Shakesperian tragedy. 

“Oh,” you breathe. 

He nods. “I…I’m sorry, I just…I don’t feel that way for you.”

“Okay,” you murmur. You think you might throw up. You shift in your spot as if preparing to. JJ reaches out a hand and it burns when he touches yours. 

“I don’t want to lose you though. I do love you, but the love I feel for her is different. I’m sorry, I don’t know why, I just–”

“--JJ, please,” you beg. You force yourself to look him in the eyes. He’s terrified of everything. Always has been, as long as you’ve known him. More than anything, terrified of love. And you know what that means, for him to care so deeply for someone. You know that he needs you. And you know that, despite everything, you need him. It hurts to be something but it’s worse to be nothing, after all. 

Somewhere deep inside of you, you find a smile. A forced, placid smile, like a lady-in-waiting might wear. Your other hand envelopes his and you will the tears away. 

“I’m your best friend,” you assure him. The words are sour like acid on your tongue. It feels like blasphemy. Nodding, as if trying to make yourself believe it too, you say, “we can forget the whole thing.”

A relieved smile comes to JJ’s face like a breath of air after free diving. He leans back, nods, happy, overjoyed, appeased. 

“Thank God. Cause I don’t know what I’d do without you. I really don’t,” he says, meaning every word. Maybe that’s what hurts the most. 

Nodding, agreeing, you say, “Kiara would be an idiot if she didn’t want you, too.”

Smiling to himself, his head dips, abashed, and you know then and there that he’d never be that way for you. He gets up and as his hand slips form your hold, it feels like you’re losing him forever. Once again, he’s reframed. Different again. No longer your crush, no longer your future, and no longer your best friend. He’s a mirage. He isn’t real. You no longer know what to call him or how to name your connection. Because as he walks away, bidding you goodnight, heading to the house where Kiara sleeps soundly, beautiful and brilliant, you begin to cry, knowing that you would never be able to forget it, and yet knowing that you had to. 

JJ Maybank was designed for you to fall in love with him, but he was never designed to love you back.

[starwarsanthropology]

Canon genders the clones, both individually and collectively, pretty aggressively. They're men, brothers, boys, sirs. Omega is notable for being the "female" clone, to the point where she's not recognized as a clone in a meaningful way.

But the clones grew up without gendered social groups! Despite how clones are gendered by external factors, gender is functionally a nonentity in their lives until they meet civilians, and civilians do a load of other weird shit anyway.

So why do they still use gendered language?

My argument is that feminine language isn't used as a gendered form of address, but as a form of address that reflects a specific kind of power dynamic and relationship between parties.

Given the structure of the clone army, the only people a vast majority of young clones interact with who could insist on being called ma'am are exclusively kaminoans.

The kaminoans view clones not as autonomous subjects, but as property. They have and expect complete control over their lives and actions. Incidentally, the female kaminoans we see (such as Nala Se) tend to demonstrate an even more proprietary perspectives on the clones.

You can question a sir, like your superiors or trainers, at your discretion, but you can't question a ma'am. A sir is someone who has power over you, but is somewhat responsible for you. The have personal accountability to you in some way. Sirs are responsible for men under them. A ma'am is someone whose power over you is absolute, an authority without accountability, who is not beholden to you but that you must obey. You are tool or a number to a ma'am.

And when you bring clones out into the wider galaxy, I'm not sure anyone would figure it out that quickly.

Say you're a new jedi general. You meet your men, and they address you as "ma'am". Maybe you correct and move on, figuring that they've grown up surrounded by thousands of identical men and aren't great at guessing genders based on social and appearance cues. Scuttlebutt has your forms of address spread through the men by the end of the day, and you don't think about it again.

The clones, on the other hand, take this correction as he/him jedi stating that they want to work with them and suppourt them despite having so much power over them, which fits with both what they know of the jedi and, most often, their leadership style.

She/her jedi (see Shaak Ti especially!), clones maybe treat a little more as absolute authorities. This gendered divide in behavior gets met with, "hm, maybe they're just not used to women." For many jedi, they eventually switch to calling them sir as well, especially as they build rapport.

For Shaak Ti specifically, she is an absolute authority as the representative of the Jedi on Kamino, not just as a figurehead but as a decision maker and educator. Even as the clones grow to trust and love her, she's a relatively distant and all-powered figure. She has near total authority over them, and clones might ask for help or suppourt, but there's no social obligation for those requests to be met, she's just kind. It's compassion, not duty.

Senators, there's a good mix of different factors that make it confusing. "Senator" is always an acceptable form of address if you're not sure how'd they react, even if they should be ma'ams by default, but they're either trying to build rapport for some reason or genuinely want to work with you when they say to call them sir, regardless of the actual power dynamic at play. The she/her senators that respect the clones are in the same boat as Shaak Ti: Padme Amidala may care about clone rights, but I am still just one of hundreds to her and she has no personal accountability to me. Her position is such that she should not and cannot owe me anything. Same with Riyo Chuchi, Mon Mothma, etc. etc.

And a civilian that insists on being called ma'am or sir is going to be an asshole either way, and they technically have power over clones without personal accountability or responsibility for them. It works.

Finally, Palpatine.

He's a slimy rat fuck who pretends to be affable and kind, so of course he's going to laugh and say, "Oh, no, call me Sir!" when you call him ma'am. He is not personally accountable to you, and he does not care about you, but it helps his image and it helps him manipulate people to pretend, so of course he's making you use sir to build false intimacy despite the fact that he's the ma'am of ma'ams, both in power gaps and lack of accountability for his treatment of clones.

So having clones using sir vs ma'am not as a reflection of gender but as a reflection of power? Yeah, I think it works.

[sentienttoastah]

Oh I can’t buy a whale model okay I’ll just

Paper moby. Paper dick. Aw yeah.

Alright he’s kinda silly looking but he’s trying his best okay? Look at him next to that toy boat. My boyo.

Made this out of pure spite and boredom using the powers of leftover A4 paper, scissors, tape, two popsicle sticks and listening to “Dream sweet in sea major” for hours on loop occasionally switched with Mili’s “Compass” cause y’know, to fit the whole Moby Mood.

I think we should all make paper whales they’re so much fun.

[system-to-the-madness]

Heart Aflame (1/3) - Zuko x Reader

Word Count: 6 738 Warnings: kidnapping, slavery, human trafficking, colonialism, mentions of: torture, physical violence, death Summary: You learn about a camp where your kidnapped sister might be held, so Zuko and you head out to find her   A/N: Part Six of the series Perfect (10 times Zuko thought you were perfect and the first time he told you)

Zuko knew his heart shouldn't beat quite as hard as it did when you turned around to him with a smile. He had called for you after all.

"What's up," you asked, waiting for him to catch up with you, where you had been strolling along the beach.

Just yesterday had he returned from his little trip with Katara to avenge her mother, and on the way there he had overheard news that he had a feeling you might want to hear, even if it would doubtlessly be hard for you. How was he even supposed to start telling you he had an idea where to search for your little sister? After your village had been destroyed and your parents killed, you had no idea what had become of her, and since there was no proof of her death, you clung to the hope that she might still be alive. He didn't have confirmation of the one or the other, but he might have a way for you to find out.

"You're from a village close to Yu Dao, right," he began hesitantly.

"I mean, I lived close to Yu Dao before the Fire Nation destroyed everything, yes. What about it?"

"When I was traveling with Katara, I overheard some people talking," he explained. "They were talking about a camp, sort of like a prison, where the children from around Yu Dao are being held prisoner." He had to watch your smile slowly melt away and be replaced by a serious, almost hurt expression. "If anyone knows what happened to your sister, it might be the people there…"

"She might be there," you corrected, your eyes not focused on him any longer and instead staring straight through him, your jaw set tightly. "This is the first time in almost two years that I have a chance of finding her. Where is that camp?"

Zuko bit his lip. "I don't know if it's a good idea to-"

"Zuko, I'm gonna ask just once. Where is the camp."

How the hell had the knife appeared in your hand? Zuko swallowed. He should know better than to underestimate the desperation of someone searching for their family.

"It’s on a small island, just a couple of kilometres to the southwest of hot spring cove," he answered. "Hey, where are you going?" Quickly he sprinted after you, catching your hand.

"I'm going to find a boat that can take there," you answered, tearing your hand out of his hold. "I'm going to find my sister and you're not going to stop me."

"I don't want to stop you," Zuko disagreed. "If I didn't want you to go, I wouldn't have told, or would I?"

“What’s going on?” Aang, Katara, Sokka and Toph poked their head past a nearby boulder, curiously taking in the sight of you and Zuko. It was unusual for you to fight; so far you had been the one who had always shown the most compassion towards the Fire Nation Prince, speaking up in his defence or listening to him when he was trying to explain himself.

“I might know where my sister is,” you explained.

“I told you not to tell her about the camp,” Katara sighed, stepping out further.

“Why not,” you asked, clearly getting more upset by the minute. “Actually, why didn’t you tell me earlier? You knew this since you came back yesterday, why didn’t you tell me?”

“There’s only a little more than a week left before the comet,” Katara explained. “We can’t afford to break up the group now just to go searching for your sister. She’ll still be there when Aang’s defeated Fire Lord Ozai.”

“But you could afford to go looking for your mother’s murderer? He also would’ve still been there when everything’s over,” you shouted. “And it’s not like your mother would have minded waiting two weeks longer, right? But my sister- we know, we all know how the Fire Nation deals with their prisoners. You can’t expect me to-”

“Katara’s right,” Sokka interrupted you. “You can’t leave the group now.”

“But you could go looking for your father,” you asked. “You all pretend that just because you don’t know Xiang, she’s not as important as the people you want to see saved or avenged!”

“Hey, hey, calm down,” Toph interfered. “Nobody’s saying you shouldn’t go saving her!”

“Don’t you listen? That’s exactly what they are saying,” you cried. “They expect me to sit back, watch how they’re celebrating their little family reunion, while knowingly letting my sister rot in some kind of messed up Fire Nation children’s prison! My sister is 6 years old! I haven’t seen her in almost two! Chances are she might not even recognize me when I finally find her! And you expect me to wait? Every day, every minute, I can’t get her out of there, there’s the possibility that the Fire Nation hurts her, traumatizes her, makes her suffer! But you want me to stand by idly, watching this happen?”

“We don’t even know if she’s really in that prison,” Katara reminded you.

“Sokka wasn’t sure about his father being on Boiling Rock either and went either way, that’s no excuse,” you shouted. “I’m not asking anyone to come with me, I’m not asking for your help, and I’m not asking permission either. You might be selfless enough to save the world not for the people you love but for everyone. I’m not. I can’t imagine living in a world that has been saved but without my sister. She’s the only one I have left. Sokka, wouldn’t you give everything to save Katara if she were kidnapped? How can you ask me not to do the same?” Silence settled over the group. “If you’re standing in my way, I’ll treat you no differently than whoever else is going to try to stop me from getting to Xiang.”

“Take Appa,” Aang’s voice cut through the threatening silence and made you look up to him in surprise. “If you promise to be back within a week, you can take him. Or send him back if you don’t make it in time.”

“Aang-”

Katara and you had spoken up at the same time.

“You can’t just let her take Appa,” Katara protested.

“I can and I will,” Aang decided. “She’s right. If you or Sokka would be kidnapped, the other would turn the world upside down just to find the other. And all of us would help. Why should we try to stop her from doing the same for her sister?”

“Thank you, Aang,” you mumbled.

“You should leave as soon as possible,” he continued. “The island isn’t too far away, if you hurry, you can make it by nightfall and approach it without being seen.”

“I’m coming with you,” Zuko decided, surprising everyone. “You might need someone who knows about the Fire Nation customs.”

“Thank you,” you bowed to him slightly.

“Aang, there’s not much more I can teach you at the moment,” Zuko continued. “I don’t think showing you any more complicated forms would be of much use against my father. It would be better if you trained the ones that I’ve taught you so far until they come naturally.”

“I agree,” Aang nodded. “Just be careful out there. Both of you.”

Not even an hour later, you were ready to leave. Zuko and you had both packed whatever might come in handy: your weapons of course, some clothes with which you could disguise yourself as Fire Nation, food and a blanket.

You hugged everyone goodbye, Katara hugging you a little tighter than usually and you knew it was her way of apologizing for earlier.

The sky was clouded, making it easier to hide a flying Sky Bison in the lower hanging clouds while still being able to see the coastlines you were following from one island to the next. Aang had been right. You were making good progress, and just as it got dark, you made out the silhouette of the island you had been looking for. Its coast was harsh, filled with caves, and in the disappearing daylight it took a while until you found one big enough to hide Appa inside. He was apprehensive about hiding underground, but with the cave’s wide entrance he seemed to finally accept his fate, being able to look out over the sea instead of feeling trapped under the stone ceiling.

This was where the easy and comfortable part of your journey ended. After dressing into the Fire Nation clothes you had brought, you began your assent to the main part of the island. At first you had to climb up the cliffs, a dangerous undertaking, even if it would not have been dark. But Zuko occasionally used his Fire Bending to light up a part of the way, and together you found the safest route to climb. After than you had to make your way through thick bushes, made up of plants you had never seen before. Their leaves were thick and full of thorns, which left scraps in your skin and tore at your clothes. Luckily it didn’t take you long until the bushes were behind you, and you had found a road. Following an instinct, you turned left, until eventually a huge complex of buildings came up, surrounded by high fences. Hiding in a ditch at the side of the street, Zuko and you began closing in on whatever facility you had discovered. Even from afar you could hear the demanding voices of guards, but once you had almost reached the fence, you could see that they were not commanding around prisoners, but instead children, who seemed to be cleaning up a yard.

Zuko could tell that you tried to spot your sister, but from this distance it was impossible. He couldn’t even make out the children’s hair colour from here. You had to get closer, which meant you had to enter the facility.

While you were still watching the children and the guards, Zuko began analysing the area. The fence was pulled up between separate houses, which had windows that opened to the outside. Apart from the fact that they were pretty high up on the wall, this seemed to be the easiest way in.

“The windows,” Zuko gestured, drawing your attention away from the yard and towards the buildings instead.

“We can try to break one of them with a stone, tie Sokka’s rope to my sword and use that as an anchor through the window,” you suggested.

A few minutes later, the rope was tied to your sword and after several attempts Zuko had managed to break the glass of a window behind which it was dark. The guards in the yard seemed to announce the end of day to the children, which drove up your heartbeat. You had no idea what kind of room you were breaking in. For all that you knew, it might be the guards’ break room, and they would discover the broken window immediately. It didn’t help that it took you almost ten minutes until you managed to throw the sword through the broken window in a way that it didn’t get pulled back out when you put weight on the rope. Still Zuko sent you to go first and waited until you were sitting on the windowsill to climb up behind you.

The room before you was dark, so you could barely make out anything, which made the way down from the windowsill almost as unpleasant as the way up. Four meters separated you from the floor and your first thought was to simply use the sword again, put it outside the window this time, and climb down the rope into the room. But that meant you were leaving behind your sword and the rope which would be a save give-away that someone had broken into. In the end, you ended up using the sword, which Zuko retrieved before he jumped down from the window, cushioning his fall with a fire blast. Finally with solid ground under your feet, you began looking around the room. Along the walls, vats were lined up, reminding you of the big common laundry room in your village. But before you could explore them any further, Zuko waved you over.

“This door’s unlocked,” he told you. Drawing your weapons, you carefully creaked the door open, light falling through the growing gap into the dark.

Slowly you stepped forward, your eyes hurting in even the dim light, but you got used to it quickly.

“Is this a laundry,” Zuko asked, stepping through behind you.

His deduction made sense, considering the countless bed sheets and uniforms that were hung up on clothesline. You reached out, grabbing the fabric of one of the red shirts and nodded.

“Still damp.”

“Who’s there?”

The thin and scared voice of a girl cut through the silence, making your heart almost stop. As fast and quiet as possible Zuko and you hid behind a heavy stone collum.

“I’m not scared of you,” the child declared bravely, although her tone of voice indicated the opposite. “Listen, lovely wash-kitchen spirit,” she continued. “My name is Xin Yan, and I’m just folding the bed sheets for tomorrow, okay? Can you let me do that? I’ll be out of here in just a few minutes!”

Xin Yan? Zuko watched your forehead furrow at the mention of the name.

Hesitant steps sounded through the high room, and a shadow appeared on one of the sheets close to where you were hiding. Zuko pulled you backwards, further behind the column, and a moment later the sheet got pulled aside, revealing a little girl, around Aang’s and Toph’s age.

“Xin Yan,” you asked, stepping out of your hiding place, causing Zuko to almost get a heart attack. Had you gone mad?

The girl squeaked in surprise before clasping her hands over her mouth, effectively dropping the basket she had held, which clattered to the floor.

“Shhh, it’s me (y/n),” you whisper shouted. “Do you remember me? We used to be neighbours, back in the village.”

“(y/n),” the girl asked in disbelief. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m looking for my sister, Xiang,” you explained. “Is she here?”

“Not here, but-” the girl interrupted herself at the sound of a key turning in a lock on the other side of the room. “Put on some of these red and black uniforms,” she rushed out. “Wait until I’m gone, and in 20minutes, come find me on the second floor of this building. Nobody will question who you are if you wear the uniforms.”

With that, she quickly slipped past the sheets and out of sight. Just a second later, the sound of a heavy door opening sounded through the room.

“Where are you, hm? Bedtime,” a rough, male voice boomed.

“I’m here,” Xin Yan rushed out, “the sheets are all ready and folded for tomorrow.”

“I sometimes think you’re the only one who actually does their job around here. We’ve had another group of rats who-”

The man’s voice got inaudible once he had thrown the door back into its lock. With bated breath Zuko and you waited for the sound of a turning key, but it seemed like the door stayed unlocked. Still, you waited for another few minutes before you dared making your way out from behind the column.

“Can we trust her,” Zuko asked quietly, leaning so close to you that you could feel his breath fanning over the shell of your ear.

As much as you hated admitting it, you had asked yourself the same question. Xin Yan had always been a reliable young girl, and even though you had never been close to her, you had often heard the elderly people in the village praise her for her diligent and hard work. She had always fiercely opposed the Fire Nation, but if she had been in this camp since the village had been destroyed… over a year was a long time to try and turn around someone’s opinion, especially when they were as young as Xin Yan.

“I hope we can trust her,” you mumbled. You waited another few minutes before finally slipping out from behind the column. Xin Yan had advised you to put on red and black uniforms, so Zuko and you began searching for fitting clothes. A loosely fit black trouser, a red shirt and a red and black vest.

“Bind your hair back,” Zuko recommended, already pulling his own short strands back into a small bun.

“Can you help me,” you asked, watching as he fumbled around with a band to secure his hair in place. “Katara always did my hair when we went under people…”

Zuko nodded and when he was done with his own hair, he stepped behind you. His fingers brushed over your neck as he gathered your strands in his hands, the contact of with his warm and rough skin sending a shiver down your spine.

“Sorry,” he whispered, before pulling your hair up high enough to make it look like one of the hairdos all the Fire Nation women were wearing. You could feel him fumble around with the hairband, accidently tucking a little too harshly at your hair.

“Ow,” you mumbled, more to yourself than him.

“I’m sorry, sorry. I’ve never done anyone else’s hair… at least not since Azula has been old enough to Fire Bend at me if I ended up doing it not exactly like she wanted it.”

“You did your sister’s hair?” The image of a younger Zuko doing his sister’s hair was as entertaining as it was disturbing. Somehow you had a hard time imagining the girl sitting still for long enough.

“I wanted to anyway,” Zuko admitted, and you could hear his clothes rustling behind you, indicating that he had shrugged. “As I said, she always had very specific ideas about what her hair was supposed to look like, and when I didn’t do it perfectly, she threatened to burn me. Eventually I stopped offering.”

“I used to do Xiang’s hair,” you recalled. Zuko was still playing with your hair, but you didn’t question it. The little touches and careful tucks felt nice. “Every morning before I went off to school I’d braid her hair. She always wanted me to braid daisies in her hair, but she picked them so close to the blossom, that the stem was always too short.” You trailed off, staring absentmindedly into the dimly lit room filled with drying clothes. “Zuko, what if she doesn’t recognize me? She’s still so little, the last time she saw me, she wasn’t even five years old-”

“It’s gonna be okay,” Zuko assured you, dropping his hands to your shoulder. “She’ll remember you. How could she forget an older sister like you?”

You swallowed thickly. A part of your mind wanted to disagree with him, tell him that to such a young child more than one and a half years was as long as an eternity, and that the chance actually was low that she would remember you. But you knew Zuko was trying to comfort you, something he wasn’t extremely good at and aware of. Still, you appreciated his effort, so you nodded.

“Right,” you sighed, “because I tried weaving daisies into her braids.”

“Exactly,” Zuko nodded. “A braid that probably looked better than this one.” He reached up to your head and draped a small braid over your shoulder. Bringing your hands up, you felt for the tight structure and smiled.

“Thanks, Zuko,” you mumbled. “And thank you for coming with me. It… it helps, not being alone.”

“I’m just glad if I can help,” he answered. “Come on, the twenty minutes are almost up. Let’s see if Xin Yan is going to have us arrested.”

Together you made your way towards the door, listening for any sort of footsteps outside, but when everything stayed quiet, you carefully pressed down the door handle. The door swung open with little effort, allowing you to slip into a brightly lit corridor.

“Walk proudly,” Zuko advised as you immediately stood close to the wall. “We’re Fire Nation, and these uniforms look like they don’t belong to the lowest in the rank. Walk with your back straight, chin up, shoulders down and slightly pinch your shoulder blades together.”

Quickly you imitated what Zuko had told you, watching him do the same. It was strange, seeing how the boy you recently had only seen walk almost hesitantly whenever someone from the team was around suddenly turned into someone who seemed more like the person you would usually fight, with his hair up like that, dressed in the red and black uniform.

“And walk in the middle of the corridor,” he added. “We have no reason to cower. We’re no criminals, after all.”

The last addition came with a wink, and for a moment you stared at him surprised. Had he been like that before his father had exiled him? Funny and proud, looking like… well, like a prince?

Snapping back into the moment, you followed him until you found a staircase. Xin Yan had told you to find her on the second floor, so you were about to begin climbing up the steep staircase, when suddenly someone approached from the top. Following old habits, you were already trying to turn around to hide behind the next corner when Zuko grabbed your sleeve.

“Walk proudly,” he reminded you, “and hide in plain sight.”

Biting your teeth together you nodded, and walked behind him as the steps coming from the top came closer. They sounded hurried, and then they stopped right in front of you.

“Are you some to the new tutors,” an authoritative female voice asked, making a shiver run down your spine. You knew that voice, somehow you knew it.

“Yes,” Zuko answered, sounding both unbothered and still submissive. “We arrived just today.”

“Good, I need help. The rats on the third floor have started with their smearing again, and they won’t listen to me. Come along!”

The woman began climbing up the steps again, Zuko and you following her.

“What’s your names,” she asked, although she sounded rather uninterested. Where did you know her from?

“I’m Lee,” Zuko lied skilfully. “This is Haru.”

The woman hummed in acknowledgement, before she kept speaking. “Lee, you go with me. Haru, make sure the girls on the second floor are all in their beds and not up to the same havoc as these worm rats on the third floor.”

You had a distinct feeling when the woman was talking about rats, she didn’t actually mean worm rats.

Hesitantly you glanced up to Zuko who was walking in front of you, reaching out your hand and brushing it against his. He seemed to understand your silent question of how you were supposed to find each other again, the same way you understood his short squeezing of your fingers: I’ll come and find you.

On the second floor, you turned into the corridor, while Zuko followed the woman up the stairs. Hoping she wouldn’t look back to you, you quickly lifted your head, trying to sneak a glance of her face- and froze. Yes, you knew her. She had been a teacher at your school, Miss Guo. the meanest person you had ever encountered. Maybe even worse than Azula. She was from the earth kingdom, but for as long as you could remember, she had always talked about how amazing the Fire Nation was, how powerful, how strong. She had punished each little mistake severely, every wrong step, each misbehaviour. It wasn’t hard to guess that she admired the Fire Nation’s discipline and tried to install it in her students as well, with violence if necessary. How many nights had you hid the bruises on your fingers from her ruler from your parents, scared they would scold you the same, or even worse, for doodling on your papers? How often had you lied to your mother, saying you were too cold to wear the shorter skirt to school, just to hide the bruises on your shins from the punishment for running in the school’s playground? You could only hope that Miss Guo had not recognized you, otherwise you were in deep, deep trouble.

When she had disappeared from sight, you turned to face the corridor before you. Dozens of doors lead away to the left and right. What were you supposed to do? Right, check that the children were in bed.

Carefully you approached the first door, but then hesitated. Were you supposed to knock? If the kids were already asleep, knocking would wake them, but entering without knocking was impolite. What had Zuko said? You weren’t of the lowest rank. Chances were that with your uniform you outranked whoever was behind this door. So, you simply pressed down the door handle. The room behind it was almost completely dark, only a single candle burning on a table in the middle of the room. Along the walls, beds were lined up, a total of eight, and in all of them a small body seemed to rest.

Suddenly a loud bang from the floor above you, followed by some screaming made you flinch.

“What’s going on,” asked a small voice from the bed closest to the door.

“Nothing, just checking in that you’re alright,” you answered gently, pulling the door closed again before moving onto the next room.

You had made your way almost all the way down the corridor, only interrupted by occasional banging and screaming from above while checking every room, and already started to doubt you would find Xin Yan, when you saw the brighter shimmer of light coming from underneath the last door.

This time you knocked before opening the door, and the scene that presented itself was quite different from the other ones so far. This room was smaller, only four beds instead of eight, and instead of only one candle burning, there were four, one on each bedside table. The children were not laying in their beds, covered by blankets either, instead they were all sitting on one mattress, staring at you with wide eyes. They already moved to scramble back to their own beds, when Xin Yan spoke up.

“It’s okay, she’s my friend.” The girl poked her head out from behind her friends, waving you over. “Come in and close the door.”

Quickly you did as she had asked, standing by the door awkwardly.

“What is this place,” you eventually asked, fully aware of the four pairs of eyes trained on you.

“A re-education school for children from the earth kingdom,” Xin Yan explained, getting up from her place on the matrass and walking over to you. “Come, sit down with us. Where’s your friend?”                   .

“With Miss Guo, checking up on the third floor,” you answered.

“Oh wow, the boys are keeping them entertained this time,” one of the girls on the bed snickered, making the others laugh with her. Her hair was bound back in a ponytail.

“Keeping them entertained,” you asked, hesitantly walking to one of the other beds and sitting down on its edge. “Actually, you know what? Start from the beginning. What happened after the village got burnt down?”

Xin Yan took a deep breath. “How much details do you want?”

“How much can you give me?”

In that moment the door got opened, and a tall figure slipped in. The girls immediately tried scurrying back to their beds, but you did not even flinch. Somehow, even in this low lighting with the unusual hair and the enemy’s uniform you still recognized Zuko instantly.

“Why are you back already,” you asked confused.

“They’re getting the guards to shut down the boys on the third floor,” Zuko answered, his eyes scanning the room.

“Uhm, everyone,” you directed your words to the girls on the bed. “This is my friend, Zuko. We’re here to find my sister, Xiang. Xin Yan was about to explain what’s going on.”

“Right,” Xin Yan answered. “So, after the Fire Nation raided the village, they gathered all of us kids up. Anyone over the age of three and under the age of ten. We were traveling for days, and we still don’t really know where we are, but we travelled over land and then by boat-”

“This is an island in the Fire Nation territory,” Zuko quickly interrupted, causing the girls’ eyes to widen, but Xin Yan quickly continued her story.

“We were brought here, into this… kind of school, along with children from other villages that have been raided. The four of us-” the pointed between the girls sitting on the bed, “are the oldest girls here. It got obvious very quickly what they were trying to do here.”

“They’re trying to make us forget our families,” another girl explained. Her hair was cut to shoulder length. “We’re not allowed to talk about them, about family, pets, our villages or anything related our past to the earth kingdom.”

“We go to school, learn about the history of the Fire Nation and how great they are, and if we break one of their rules, the punishment is hard,” the last girl, one with a scar over her cheek explained.

“They’re trying to turn us into their perfect little Fire Nation soldiers,” Xin Yan seethed. “The older ones of us saw through it pretty quickly. Most of the younger ones just missed their parents but started forgetting them pretty quickly. The others… many of them just give in. I think they’re too small to really understand what’s going on. But us and some of the boys, we started getting together, mostly at night and we try to remember and talk about our families so we don’t forget their names and we draw pictures so we can try to remember their faces and then burn the paper before sunrise, so the teachers won’t find them. The four of us decided to play the perfect student, all of us got special freedoms, like being allowed access to the library unattended, getting to do the laundry without a guard in the same room and things like that. Whenever we have something important to talk about, the boys stir up trouble to keep the teachers and tutors busy for a while so we can talk safely.”

“They did too good of a job this time,” Zuko mumbled. “The teacher seemed really serious about having the guards intervene.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Xin Yan shrugged. “The boys know to quiet down when the guards come. They’re really good at looking like a bunch of uncontrollable idiots, but they’re very clever and controlled in what they’re doing.”

“You said there are tutors, and Miss Guo also called us that,” you recalled. Who exactly are these tutors?”

“They’re teenagers from the Fire Nation, or young adults,” the girl with the ponytail explained. “They were brought in to lessen the gap between the teachers and us. We believe they thought if we had younger people as role models, that we’d adapt their opinions. But some of them are just as bad as the teachers when it comes to handing out punishments.”

“And why did you come together tonight,” you asked. “You said the boys only distract the teachers when you need time to talk uninterrupted.”

Xin Yan sighed. “Recently some of the younger students have been acting up. Like us, they remember home, but they’re too small to hide it. It all started with your sister.”

“My sister?” Alarmed you sat up. At your side Zuko reached for your arm, but you shook him off. “What happened to her? Do you know?”

“She got into a fight with one of the teachers, about a month back,” Xin Yan recalled. “It was during class, so I don’t know what exactly happened, but we’ve been told she questioned the Fire Nation’s authority and claim to power.”

“Which is never a good idea,” the girl with the shoulder length hair sighed.

“She got the whole classroom to rebel,” Xin Yan continued, “and from there it spread through half the school. There was chaos for several hours, but when the guards managed to get the situation under control, they took her away.”

“Took her away- where to? Do you know?”

Xin Yan shook her head. “We have a suspicion that she’s held in one of the cells for misbehaving students. We call them the Mould, because there is mould growing everywhere. Usually, you only have to spend the rest of the day, in the worst case a night there, but none of the students who have been to the Mould since have seen her, or heard of her. One of her classmates tried asking about her and was sent for a whole day to the Mould.”

“So you think she’s still here, in the school,” you asked hopefully.

“Yes,” Xin Yan answered, “we do, but we can’t be certain.”

“Where is the Mould?”

“I have lunch duty there tomorrow, I can show you,” the girl with the ponytail offered.

“Lunch duty,” Zuko asked, “Didn’t you say students don’t stay longer than the night?”

“Trust me,” the girl with the scar said, “half a day is more than long enough for the Mould to fill up with students again.”

“What do we do until then,” you asked. “Is there a quarter where the tutors sleep?”

“You can’t go there,” Xin Yan denied, “They’d immediately notice you’re not one of them. And you wouldn’t have an assigned bed…”

“They can sleep in the laundry room,” the girl with the scar suggested. “I have first shift there tomorrow; I can let them out.”

“And after that you can go to the library. There are always some tutors there, reading up and studying.”

“You just have to come to the kitchen before lunch time, so you can claim you’re supposed to supervise me while I am on lunch duty in the Mould. Nobody will question it with the new tutors,” the girl with the ponytail finished.

“Sounds like a plan,” you agreed. “Thank you all, for helping us. I just hope we’re not getting you into any trouble.”

“You’re not, nobody knows we’re connected,” Xin Yan assured you. “You only have to make it back to the laundry room unseen. Do you remember where it is?”

“Down the stairs… third door to the right?”

“The fourth,” the girl with the scar corrected.

You nodded and got up from the bed you had been sitting on. “Fourth door to the right. Understood.” Walking back to the door, followed by Zuko, you turned around to the girls one last time. “You don’t know how much you have helped us. I promise you, the war will be over soon. I’ll come and find you after that, and we’ll put an end to this school.”

The light of the candles reflected in the girls’ eyes, and you could tell that no matter how bravely they were holding up, they were beginning to run out of strength. They were only children, battling the enemy without the enemy having noticed yet. Their strength and courage were humbling.

“See you tomorrow,” the girl with the scar said, echoed by the one with the ponytail.

“Good luck finding your sister. Make sure to get her out of here,” Xin Yan grinned. It was the same grin Toph always put on when she was about to face a fight she knew would be challenging.

“Thank you. Good night,” you nodded. “And stay safe.”

The trip back to the washroom happened without interference, and just a few minutes later, Zuko and you had curled up on a few freshly washed sheets in the furthest and darkest corner of the room. The thin fabric did little to keep the cold of the stone tiles away, but it was better than nothing. Not wanting to be visible from the door, you had been forced to move close together, so close that you were almost laying in each other’s arms by the time you had settled down. Had the circumstances been different, you would have been unable to sleep from how nervous it made you to lay so close next to Zuko. Just a few weeks ago he had still been your enemy, and enemy who never quite had felt like one. Ever since he had saved Aang and you from Pohuai Stronghold, ever since the short exchange he and Aang had had in the forest afterwards, you had felt like maybe he wasn’t as evil as he pretended to be. This had of course turned out right, eventually. But still you had never shared these thoughts with anyone, and all this time you had fought the thoughts in your mind that tried to tell you he was worth saving, worth trusting. Until recently anyway. When he had shown up at the Western Air Temple, you had been tempted to give in easily to his request to join. But it hadn’t been just about you and him, it had been about Aang, so you had been reluctant at first. Ever since that day, seeing him almost all the time, getting to talk to him, learning about his past, his family, his journey… it made one thing very hard: ignoring the way you heart seemed to leap into your throat at even the faintest thought of him. But now, even laying so close that you could feel his body heat through the uniforms you were wearing, there was none of that nervousness left.

“How are you feeling?”

Zuko’s voice interrupted your circling thoughts and in the dim light you turned to look at him. His amber eyes were watching you attentively, as if he was assessing whether you were fit to do the job.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “I mean… the whole time I thought they had put Xiang into some sort of prison, where she would be forced to work in a mine or screw together war machines, but… I guess on the one hand something like a school isn’t that bad. But what they’ve been teaching here, the way they’re treating the kids-”

Zuko nodded. “It’s cruel.”

“I know we can’t free all the children here,” you sighed, “not now anyway. But Zuko, when the war is over, when Aang has defeated Ozai, I’ll come back here and make sure we get all the kids out and back to their parents. As good as possible anyways.”

“I’ll help you,” Zuko promised, his eyes glimmering with determination. “The pain and suffering the Fire Nation had caused is beyond imagination. I need to find a way to put things right after my father has been taken care of.”

“You won’t be alone,” you told him. “You have all of us, we’ll work together to right as many wrongs as we can. I promise.”

“Thank you,” Zuko sighed. “But that’s still a long time away. First, we have to find your sister and make sure we get her out of the Mould and back to Ember Island with us.”

“Yes, we have to find her,” you agreed. “I just have a bad feeling that it’s not going to be as easy as we’re hoping it to be. I don’t like that Miss Guo is here.”

“We’ll make it,” Zuko assured you, reaching his hand up and gently squeezing your shoulder. “We’ll find her and make it out of here, unharmed. All three of us. I know it.”

You nodded with a sigh and closed your eyes. “I wish I had your confidence.”

“If you don’t have that confidence, you just need to trust me,” Zuko shrugged, and a smile tucked at your lips.

“You know? The weird thing is, I do. A few weeks ago, I would have tried to kill you on sight and now…”

Zuko shifted under the thin sheet you used as a blanket before answering. “I mean, this isn’t so bad, right?”

He was warm at your side, his hesitant voice having become familiar enough to lull you into safety, his small movements making the foreign darkness around you not as frightening with him next to you.

“No, it’s not,” you agreed with a yawn. “But we need to sleep now. Good night.”

Zuko nodded in the dark. “You’re right. Good night.”

And a few minutes later you had both fallen asleep.

Heart Aflame Part Two

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[legobiwan]

"What if Stanley somehow manages to destroy the portal just like he destroyed my perpetual motion machine?"

Holy shit, Stanford, you just spent the last few pages of your Journal outlining in horrifying detail how Bill took your body on a criminal joyride and forced you to forget your own name while pulling your bones from their very sockets in a hallucinatory nightmare void. You woke up weeping on your living room floor.

And yet, you have the absolute fucking gall to be concerned your brother, if you summon him to Gravity Falls, might destroy the Portal???? You mean the one piece of leverage you have over Bill? The main reason he's stalking you? The machine that will literally end the world if activated?

Between this, Ford refusing to burn his journals, and the fact he fully intends on continuing his work on the Portal once he's solved the Bill problem -

This is the picture of a man at the apex of both megalomania and a mental breakdown.

Could you imagine if Ford had found a way to beat back Bill and keep the Portal? Just how much would his ego have inflated even more? (Probably large enough that he wouldn't fit out the door). I feel like it's a timeline where Ford becomes the Big Bad, not because of Bill (well, a little bit because of Bill), but because he sees himself as transcending godhood and what little is left of his moral compass he casts into a black hole. ("He may be a god, but I am scientist.")

The juxtaposition between this and Stan's sacrifice during Weirdmageddon is insane. Ford, who steadfastly refused to give up his life's work to save world and Stan, who gave up everything he was to save the world. There's got to be a part of Stan that reads these pages and wonders just who his brother is, when he turned unto a supervillain, and if it would ever happen again. Stan may not want to acknowledge it, but deep down, I think he's legitimately pissed at Ford for being such narcissistic bonehead. I think it is something that haunts him in the odd hours of the night, his brother sleeping soundly in the bunk next to him on the Stan O'War II while Stan ponders if he's sharing quarters with Lex Luthor. You could have ended it, Poindexter. You could have ended so long ago.

The past is the past and as his mother would say, you can't unshit a turd. (Something Stan has more experience with than he'd like, regret trailing him his whole life like a vengeful shadow). Ford is here now, they're alive, the bastard triangle is gone. But God, does he want to sit his brother down, tie him to a chair, and scream at him, to shake him and demand to know just what hell he had been thinking, why he had allowed himself to become this kind of...this kind of monster.

Stan will never, ever do this. He has his brother, has his awkward affection, has almost everything he's ever wanted. The answers are not worth it. (In Stan's experience, the answers are almost never worth it.)

And as for Ford? Somewhere in his subconscious, a shrill, too-familiar voice likes to remind him of who he is and what he can still become. The same grating voice that tells him they're not so different, after all, that there's still time, there's always time to fix the past, to create the future. You're a scientist, after all. You're more than a god.

That's the voice Ford papers over with contrition, with guilt and self-abnegation and a near-manic dedication to the small boat bobbing along in the Arctic, not even holding a speck of relevance compared to the vast and might ocean, forget to the multiverse at large. That's the voice Ford drinks away in secret on the worst nights, the one that tells him a stone statue in the forest is as much him as it is the monster whose shape it embodies.

[manheeiim]

Nothing Lasts Forever - Lana’s House

ᥫ᭡ link to nothing lasts forever masterlist

Not long after giving JJ my phone number at the corner store, he was inviting me to come with him and his friend on an adventure, whatever that meant. In fact, I asked him what that meant but he hadn’t really given much of an answer.

Despite my lack of knowing what was going on, I decided to go with him, going with the flow.

I stood in front of my house as I waited for JJ and his friend to come pick me up. Going in the car with a guy I barely knew and a guy I didn’t know whatsoever was not the smartest idea but honestly, I was too desperate to get to know JJ better.

Suddenly, an old van pulls up and I see JJ sitting in the passenger seat, his arm over the open window as he looks out at me.

“Hey.” JJ says.

“Hey.” I respond, a small smile on my face.

“Hi.” His friend says, leaning over to wave at me.

“Hi.” I wave back.

“You can get in the back.” His friend says.

“Or you know, sit on my lap, that works too.” JJ adds, causing his friend to shove him.

I roll my eyes as I get in the back of the van and shut the door, sitting down on the not so secure seating they had back here.

“I’m John B. Nice to meet you.” His friend introduces himself as he takes the van out of park.

“I’m Lucia. It’s nice to meet you.” I say politely in return.

“No, nice to see you, JJ? No, I missed you, JJ?” JJ joins in as he glances back at me with a teasing smile.

I blush a little, “Nice to see you, too, JJ.” I softly say, making JJ’s smile widen.

“Nice to see you, Lucia.” He responds.

We pull up to some house a few minutes later and they both get out of the car. I get up and go to open the van door but JJ beats me to it, opening it for me.

“So, why are we here?” I quietly ask him as I get out and he shuts the van, standing with me there for a moment.

“John B has some compass that he wants to ask this woman about.” JJ says.

“Oh.” I say, now being left with more questions.

“I’ll explain more later. Come on.” JJ then says as we head over to where his friend was.

As we’re walking, there’s suddenly sounds of glass breaking and suddenly I’m freezing up, my body not moving anymore.

JJ glances back at me, noticing my stiffness, before looking over at John B.

“Maybe we should come back.” JJ says. “It’s a little too soon.” He adds as he stands back with me.

“No, no, shut up, JJ.” John B shushes JJ and he just goes quiet.

Yelling is heard and I can hear a man yelling “Tell me where it is or I’ll kill you.”

I tug at JJ’s arm, making him look down at me, “I want to go. I don’t want to be here.” JJ nods in understanding as he looks back at John B.

There’s suddenly another crashing noise and JJ is pulling me up against the side of the house with him as John B goes up against the house as well. There’s a loud bang and I startle as paint chips fall on us.

Suddenly, my body was going back to a situation similar to what I’d finally escaped. My mind was going back to the mindset of when everything was happening.

JJ and John B look over when we hear the sound of the door harshly opening and JJ puts his arm over my chest to hold me back and to not look.

I can see them in the boat driving away and JJ takes my hand in his, bringing me along with him as he follows John B in the house.

We walk through the house and I reluctantly go along with JJ as John B leads the way. As we walk farther into the house, we could see the woman sat on the floor, her back up against the wall, in her bathroom. She was sobbing.

I let go of JJ and stand back, my heart pounding out of my chest. Something about this seemed all too familiar to me.

John B rushes over to her and checks to make sure that she’s okay but obviously she wasn’t in the right headspace to respond. He asks if he should call an ambulance and she denies. He then asks if he should call the cops and that’s when she says, “No cops, please!”

JJ goes over, “Mm. That’s not good. Come on, dude. Let’s just go.” He tells his friend.

I look at the woman’s face and I just can’t do it. I turn around and walk out. My heart is racing, my body shaking, my breath is quick. I could feel myself having a full blown panic attack and I didn’t want to add to the chaos happening inside so I left.

JJ comes out a few moments later, John B obviously still inside with the woman and he looks over at me, immediately going over to me. He grabs onto my arms in a firm but gentle way as he looks down at me.

“You okay?” He asks as he looks down at me, obviously sensing that something was up.

“I want to leave.” I say, ignoring his question unintentionally.

He didn’t ask why, he knew what it was. He knew that same feeling all too well. He studied my expression as he put his hand on the small of my back and started to lead me to the van, “Let’s wait for John B in the van.” JJ says.

When we get in the van, I get in the back and JJ gets in the back as well with me, sitting down next to me as he fiddled with his fingers next to me.

“I’m sorry.” I apologize. I felt like I had made it awkward and this was our first official time actually hanging out.

“Why?” JJ asked.

“I made a whole big deal.” I point out, having the habit of disregarding or downgrading my feelings.

“Well, you obviously had a reason.” JJ pointed out. I’m silent. “I get it.” Is all he says before we both go silent and just sit there, waiting for his friend to come back so we could leave.

[loveinhawkins]

kept thinking about Eddie & Steve deliberately making jokes to ensure that Dustin and co don’t get into the boat on Lover’s Lake.

“Nicely done,” Steve says when they’re far enough away from the bank—when they’ve left a disgruntled Dustin behind rather than a worried one.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah,” Eddie says—glances back to where the kids are, although they’ve already got swallowed up by the darkness. “‘Course, man.” He gives a weak smile as he drags the oar through the water. “Those little shrimps would probably try and, like, cannonball right in, and honestly? I, uh, really don’t think my heart could handle that.”

“Yeah, they… really throw themselves into things.”

Steve decides that he’s never gonna bring up Operation Child Endangerment if Eddie’s in the vicinity—the dude already looks at them all like they’ve got a few screws loose, he doesn’t wanna make it worse.

Although, on second thought, him and Dustin probably let that particular cat out the bag with their persistent optimism way back in the boathouse: “There’s nothing to worry about.”

Eddie’s wide-eyed look painted a thousand words.

Oh, he thinks you’re crazy, sing-songed the perpetual high schooler hiding in Steve’s brain. Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson thinks you’re crazy. Time to seriously re-evaluate your life choices.

“Did you think Eddie was a bit, uh, weird back there?” Dustin asked him later. “Like, he’ll be okay, right?”

Dustin was prone to using ‘weird’ as a catch-all term, where it could mean anything from someone being genuinely weird to them experiencing severe emotional distress.

Steve clapped him on the shoulder reassuringly. “Henderson, I’m pretty sure he thinks we’re weird.”

He almost wants to make a joke about that now, get Eddie to laugh, maybe. To tell the truth, Steve had almost cracked and laughed himself once he’d gotten into the boat, when he turned and saw Dustin’s comically outraged expression.

It was only as Nancy and Eddie began to row that he registered the laugh would’ve secretly been one of relief—heartened by the sight of the kids left on the shore.

He stays quiet; Eddie’s shoulders are slowly tensing more and more the further across the lake they go.

It’s not noticeable at first—Robin’s providing a running commentary on the movements of Dustin’s compass, while Nancy determinedly pulls her oar in and out of the water—but Steve soon realises that Eddie’s kind of stopped rowing, instead just making ripples as his grip goes slack.

It’s damn hard to see, but Steve just barely makes out Eddie’s eyes glittering in the dark, staring down at the lake.

“Hey,” Steve says quietly. “You don’t have to—we’re not too far out, we can take you back, man.” He tries for levity. “This thing holds three people tops, remember?”

Eddie’s smile is more of a grimace. “Nah, man. Had enough of being chickenshit.”

“Dude, you’re not…”

Steve trails off, biting back his frustration—it doesn’t look like Eddie’s listening to him anyway; he’s still not taken his eyes off the water. Steve briefly wonders if he’s got that thing Robin says she gets sometimes, something about an imp—it’s why she never gets on Ferris wheels or whatever, convinced that she’s somehow gonna fall.

Eddie gives himself a shake and resumes rowing.

“Sorry. S’just… pitch black down there. He—” Eddie clears his throat. “He wouldn’t have seen—”

His voice cracks, fades into the night. His grip on the oar slips—he snatches it back before it can fall.

“Eddie,” Steve begins, but Eddie speaks right over the top of him.

“I—I hoped he was just drowning instead.” Eddie scoffs, and there’s a bitterness to it, an edge of self-loathing that Steve wishes he couldn’t hear. “And then maybe—” A sigh, another grimace disguised as a smile. “That’s a pretty fucked up thing to think, huh?”

He’s got that tone, Steve thinks, like when he kept repeating that he ran away from Chrissy—like he thought that if he said it enough, someone would snap, condemn him. Like he’s looking for proof that he’s monstrous.

Robin’s still talking, tactfully giving Eddie a semblance of privacy. Underneath her chatter, Steve hears Nancy’s rowing falter for just a moment, and he feels a pang in his chest.

He thinks of Barb and drowning. Wonders again if an ordinary tragedy would’ve been better compared to…

Then he lets it all sink back down.

“That’s not fucked up,” he says firmly. “Trust me, dude, that’s… that’s normal.”

Eddie chuckles shortly—it sounds like he’s doing something similar, pushing everything down, down…

“Normal, huh? No-one’s called me that before.”

“First time for everything.”

There’s a flicker of amusement across Eddie’s face when he replies, “Guess compared to you freaks, I’m pretty normal.”

“Ooh, did that feel good?” Steve says, appealing again to his mental high schooler. “Bit of role reversal?”

Eddie laughs more genuinely. “Sure did. Community theatre’s done wonders.”

A silence falls, and Steve encourages himself to get all relaxed by the boat bobbing up and down. Yeah, nothing’s strictly been confirmed yet, but he already knew what he was getting into when he stepped off the shore, water leaking into his shoes.

It’s gotta be him.

“I know what you’re doing, Harrington,” Eddie murmurs.

Steve gives him a questioning look.

Eddie pulls in some long breaths in exaggerated imitation. “You’re not subtle, Mister Swim Captain.”

“Co-captain,” Steve corrects, hiding his surprise. He can’t really imagine Eddie paying attention to the swim team, least of all a former swim team.

“Oh, forgive me for my inaccuracy.”

Hmm, he’s getting borderline poetic, Steve thinks. Like he was with Mordor and stuff.

So. He’s afraid.

“I’ll be fine,” Steve says lightly.

Eddie lets out a short groan, mutters something that sounds like famous last words. Then, quieter still—Steve can’t quite make it out.

Something about the dark.

Steve could repeat that he’ll be fine, but he knows that’s a shit reassurance. He settles for continuing to breathe in and out, long and slow; Eddie’s beginning to look like he’s unconsciously mimicking the pattern, his shoulders lowering.

“Just come back up, Harrington,” he says, so softly that Steve might’ve imagined it.

“Co-captain’s promise,” he says.

Eddie’s lips twitch. But he’s still fixed on the lake’s depths, like he’s waiting for something—dreading it.

Like something’s lurking in the dark.

[sorceresssundries]

In celebration of my anti-Bongle agenda, which I am promoting today, please accept a writing excerpt where dashing young Wyllyam Ravengard pushes the fucker into a lake.

I don't like to toot my own little horn, but truly this is the Wyll content Larian should have considered for his character.

The atmosphere at the inn is bright, and despite the curse being far from lifted, there is an air of sweet celebration as loved ones are reunited and the small seed of hope for Ketheric’s demise starts to bloom into something more substantial.

As you watch the rescued individuals make their way into the inn, drawn to the comforts of the kitchen and bar, your attention is set on one particular gnome who stands out amidst the crowd. Drenched from head to toe and clearly disgruntled, he storms past you with a scowl etched upon his features, his shoulders tense with frustration. Before you can react, he barges past you with a forceful shove, muttering foul curses under his breath. His demeanour is unmistakably hostile.

“Did he fall off the boat?” you ask Wyll, a little concerned for the gnome’s wellbeing.

“Kind of” Wyll said, with a wickedness you weren’t used to hearing from him. You narrow your eyes in suspicion, and he gives a haughty little smirk.

“He was berating the Tieflings, calling them weak and helpless, said if it were up to him he would have left them there to rot. So… I may have slipped and ‘accidentally’ knocked him into the water.”

“Wyllyam Ravengard!” You put a hand to your chest in dramatic surprise. “The Blade of Frontiers! I am shocked! Where is the gallant protector of the innocent and my stalwart moral compass?”

“Oh, he’s still here somewhere. Hiding beneath the horns.” He taps his horns with his finger, and there is a sparkle in his good eye.

“Don’t worry, I pulled him out eventually, despite Astarion’s protests.”

“Sounded like he deserved it.”

“Yes.” Wyll held himself straight, with all the noble posture he could manage, and nodded wisely “He’s a total cunt that Wulbren Bongle.”

The shock of Wyll’s colourful language sparks your uninhibited laughter, and the sound echoes through the warm confines of the inn like a burst of sunlight through storm clouds.

You feel relief that beneath the curses and anxieties, joy and hopefulness hadn’t abandoned you - they were just waiting for patient rediscovery. Turns out, laughter was just a wet gnome away.