#ty for restoring my love for drawing

[zorangezest]

*chucks this at you and runs*

NO YOU GET BACK HERE!!! YOU GET BACK HERE RIGHT NOW!!!!!

[britishbiscuits]

oh my god. ok hi if you have any context about that recent drawing PLEASE this is a "free to infodump" zone. rattling your brain/pos

SCREAMMMMMSSSSS SOMEBODY'S INTERESTED IN PARASWAP WOHOOO YIPPEE YIPPEE YIPPEE PARASWAP IN THE GREAT YEAR OF 2025????

WOOOO LET'S GOOO

SO, it isn't a concrete story yet,,,But I am thinking about it. The context behind that doodle is one of my concepts which I don't know if I should scrap or redo

Originally, Stanley(or, in this instant, Overseer) was supposed to be the one remembering the 'crash' - an unfortunate event due to which it all came crashing down, characters switched places, and since the Narrator's only role in the game was supposed to be a mere voice, his 'physical' model was not recognised by the system, which in turn decided to end him like a bacteria LMAOOOO

So, Stanley was the one to survive it all and so he restored the files but couldn't quite get it the right way. Out of sheer stress and insanity slowly getting to him, he has created a new story. A perspective of his, which he would soon endearingly call Paraswap. Looking through the old textures, he's found a file of the Narrator's base model scrap, and decided to add into his story as his new protagonist

Thus, that is how 724 was born

At first, Overseer was a looser at storytelling lmao, but as the time went by and he learnt to work with this version of his Narrator(which wasn't him at all, personality vise so it was hard to adjust to someone who reminds you of yourself as well as your dead boo/silly) Overseer started to forget who he was

So, 724 doesn't know anything at all, and the Overseer slowly looses grip of what it used to be like, giving into his own delusions and working out a story off of them ^^ So that's about the change. They basically grow together to embrace the change they've faced(and kill each other, sometimes. Like in the vanilla game lol)

Sooo, that's kinda it! I've planned to let go of this concept and settle on one where they originally are like that(so no OOC ahh angst backstory lmao) because it fits more with the canon in my opinion, buuut lemme know what u think! ^^

TY SM FOR ASKING ME THIS LITERALLY LOVE U ANON🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻/pos/pl

[artimeanatheart]

Aaron Character Analysis-Book Seven Part One

The first half of this book is mostly tying up loose ends, like healing Karkinos and giving the dragons wings. And scattered throughout are some fantastic slice-of-life and character moments. So let's enjoy our fluff before we get to the battle.

Self-doubt and Healing

"It had been a crazy few years for Aaron Stowe. He went from Wanted, to university student, to assistant to the secretary of the high priest, to leader of the Restorers, to high priest of Quill. He'd killed a kind magician; nearly killed his brother; sent his father to the Ancients Sector and made his only friend, Secretary, get him back; and sent Secretary to the Ancients Sector only to watch her die because he stupidly set loose a wild creature upon a group of innocent children. That was a lot of horrible deeds to deal with, and Aaron would be lying if he said he didn't think about them often. He spent hours roaming the smoldering ruins of Quill alone, contemplating. He stood where the portcullis had been, and looked at the charred remains of the palace-his former home. Yet there was nothing he could think of that he missed about the place. Nothing had made that cold, gray palace feels as cozy as his cot on a rock floor in the middle of a hurricane."

Where book six was about Aaron's character growth, this book lets us (and him) get used to who he is now.  I love all the scenes with him in Artime (and, I mean, all the scenes with him in general).  It's so interesting to see how he meshes, or not, with the characters there. 

"Alex sighed. 'But I don't want to create dirt yards.' 'Think of all the drawing they can do in the dirt when it rains,' Aaron said, almost mischievously. The look on Aaron's face caught Alex by surprise, as so many things had in the past few months."

We get to see Aaron making jokes and bonding with some of Alex's friends. Aaron has such a dry sense of humor that sometimes the other characters have to pause for a moment before they pick up on it. But we also see that he's still a bit of an outcast in Artime.  The people there don't really know him that well.  He's always on the edge of the group, keeping a lot of his thoughts to himself.  They don't notice when he slips off to go visit the Jungle.

"Carina reached out, putting her hand over Aaron's, and gave it a gentle squeeze. 'Thank you for helping us,' she said. 'You're an incredible mage-I have no idea how you were able to do so much without training. And I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm very glad you came back. At least for a little while. If you decide to stay, well, I certainly wouldn't mind. You're all right, Aaron.' Aaron stared at her hand on his. He wondered if he'd ever get used to people being kind to him."

One of my favorite scenes in the first part of the book is when Carina and Aaron are watching the twins and Seth.  It's a very sweet moment, but with an undercurrent of sadness.  Carina enjoys spending time with Aaron.  And she flat out tells him as much.  Aaron's unsure of how to respond to that, because he doesn't know if he'll ever get used to people being nice to him. It's another one of those moments that makes us sad for him, makes us realize how little kindness he's received in his life.  And that makes us care about him now even more.

"Kaylee leaned in, her shoulder touching Aaron's shoulder and her face dangerously close to his. He resisted the urge to shrink away, and she whispered in his ear, 'Crow has a crush on Scarlet.' Her breath was warm as it caressed his skin and slipped down below his shirt collar. Aaron's ear tingled, and then his whole body tingled. His heart thudded in his chest. He didn't even register what she was saying. Instead of responding like a normal human, Aaron froze. He stared straight ahead and didn't move. He had no idea what to do. All he know was that her shoulder was still touching his, and he wasn't sure if he wanted it to stay there or move away."

Oh, also, I love Aaron and Kaylee flirting. Well, Kaylee's doing most of the flirting. Aaron has no idea what's going on (because of the autism). It's another example of Aaron being so relatable. But he's starting to realize that he likes spending time with her. That he likes her. Even if it's hard for him to wrap his mind around the fact that she might like him back, might like him enough to spend her whole life with him.

"He stood for a moment in front of the tube, feeling guilty. One thing he hadn't told anyone about was his past visits to the jungle. He'd tell his brother eventually. He had to, so Alex could take care of the creatures once Aaron was gone. But he knew that when that happened, he'd have to confess to the rock and to Panther that he'd been lying to them. He'd have to tell them that he wasn't Alex."

The Jungle is such an important place for Aaron.  It's the one place on the island of Quill/Artime that's always felt like home to him.  And it still does.  He's not quite ready to give it up, yet.  It's a place he wants to keep to himself, where no one looks at him and wonders if he's still evil inside, like a lot of people in Artime do.  Like he himself does.  It's an escape.  Should he have told Alex about the Jungle sooner? Yeah, probably.  Should he have told the Jungle inhabitants who he actually was sooner? Also yes.  But it's important that he doesn't.  Something that can happen after a character has a redemption arc is that all their flaws are fixed.  But that doesn't happen here.  Aaron's not perfect.  He still makes mistakes.  But this mistake isn't one that makes the reader worry that Aaron's going to backslide.  It's one that gives us even more sympathy for him. 

"Would he still sneak to the jungle to be in the one place he felt at ease, among the misfits. . .the misunderstoods?"

We also see a bit of a reframing in how Aaron thinks about the inhabitants of the Jungle, and by extension, himself.  He switches from describing them as 'misfit' rather than 'misunderstood'.  He sees now that the core reason the creatures in the jungle are there is not because there's something wrong about them, but because no one has taken the time to truly understand them.  And he starts applying that same view to himself.  I know I've said this before, but, prior to Ishibashi, Aaron felt like no one had taken the time to truly understand him.  Once they did, he grew so much.  All it took was one person to care enough about him to make him want to be a better person. 

"The rock thought for a moment. 'I suspected from the beginning when you knew absolutely nothing about fixing Panther's tail. And when you began playing fetch with Panther, I became certain. Marcus told me I'd know the difference between you boys because you are right-handed and Alex is left-handed.' Aaron was flabbergasted. 'You let me lie to you all this time? Even though I was hated by all of Artime?' he asked. The rock smiled, revealing a glimpse inside his cavernous mouth. 'Marcus didn't hate you. He said you were misunderstood. A misfit, just like us. I thought you probably belonged here in the jungle.'"

But then, towards the end of the book, we see that Ishibashi wasn't really the only one who got him; Mr. Today did too. He told the Rock to look out for Aaron specifically, not as someone to be feared but as someone who may need a safe place to just be.  Mr. Today understood Aaron because Mr. Today recognized the similarities between them. Mr. Today needed a space to be himself, which he created in Artime, in order to grow and change.  He recognized that Aaron probably needed that too.  And the Rock for certain knew who Aaron was from book five, and suspected even earlier.  Yet he didn't say anything and gave Aaron that space.  He waited until Aaron was ready to tell him himself.  That's really sweet.

"It was a rare moment, all four Stowe siblings in the same room. And one that wouldn't happen again once Aaron was gone. Alex felt a certain heaviness descend upon his shoulders and a loneliness rise to his throat, and instead of embracing the familial moment, he turned away, overwhelmed by it."

Now, to jump back towards the beginning of the book to talk about Alex and Aaron's journey back to the Island of Shipwrecks. It's such a nice contrast to their first boat ride together, back in book six. There was a lot of tension between them back then. Now, that tension is gone. It's definitely still awkward, though. They still have a bit more getting to know each other to do. I also don't think that Aaron quite realizes just how much his support means to Alex. Having Aaron by his side means the world to Alex. It's been a secret dream of his for years to face the world with his twin at his side. Now that he's finally gotten to have that, he doesn't want Aaron to leave and give that up. That's not to say that Aaron doesn't value his relationship with Alex, but he values it in a different way. He loves Alex, and wants to support him, but also has a life outside of Alex that he's impatient to get back to.

"Aaron had a hard time imagining anybody liking him like that. He'd never pictured himself coupled with anyone romantically. In his imagination, he was always and forever alone."

Around this point in the book, we also get another one of those moments I mentioned earlier, where Aaron thinks about how he always envisions his future self alone (and the above quote can also be read as very aspec). Which, again, reframes how we view Aaron in earlier books.  It forces us to realize just how alone he was, and it gives another hint of subtext of his self-hate.  He doesn't really think he deserves to have people around him. It makes us want to hug him and comfort him and tell him that he won't be alone.  That he's found his people and they're not abandoning him.  Or maybe that's just me. 

"Aaron opened one eye. 'Is she done?' he whispered. 'You passed,' said Alex. 'Congratulations. You are more good than evil.' Aaron let out a deep breath. 'I was worried.'"

Anyways, we get to meet the dragons and we have what is one of my favorite Alex and Aaron moments.  Because the dragons judge people based on their good/evil levels.  When Alex went earlier in the book, he had no worries over it.  He was a little uneasy about being around literal dragons, but there wasn't any doubt in his mind that he was a good person.  It was no big deal. It makes sense that he didn't expect it to be a big deal for Aaron.  But it is.  Because Aaron, at this point in his arc, is so afraid of himself.  He's afraid of backsliding into who he used to be.  He doesn't want that, but he knows it's a possibility.  A part of him wonders if that means he's still a bad person.  So having a test that will tell him explicitly if that is true, is terrifying for him on multiple levels.

"'What if. . .what if I'm. . .not?'  Alex shrugged.  'You are.'"

Three sentences, showing so much about these characters.  On Alex's end, we see his forgiving nature.  We see his confidence and trust in his brother.  His love for his brother.   On Aaron's end, we see him being vulnerable and open with Alex, trying to verbalize what he's struggling with internally.  That's something that's still really hard for him.  But he does it anyways.  This passage shows that Alex has totally and completely forgiven Aaron, but Aaron is still struggling to forgive himself. Although maybe, with Alex's love, he can start to make progress.

"Alex, Aaron, and Ishibashi remained on the shore, and while Aaron and Ishibashi talked excitedly, Alex looked on, feeling a bit lost. He watched his brother become alive and animated-a rare sight-and he knew Aaron was in the right place here. But it didn't make Alex feel much better."

Next, there's Aaron's reunion with Ishibashi, Ito, and Sato. It's a really sweet moment, but it's made even more impactful by mostly being told from Alex's POV.  We see Ishibashi and Aaron discussing Aaron's applecorn, which is a reference that Alex doesn't get but that we, as readers, do.  And that tells us that these two still have more getting to know each other to do.  Additionally, through Alex's POV, Aaron's comfort on the Island of Shipwrecks really shines through.  Alex realizes that Aaron did feel out of place in Artime and understands better why he would want to leave it, even though it hurts.  This also emphasizes to the readers that the Island of Shipwrecks is Aaron's home. These are the people he's happiest with and truly comfortable around.

And soon he'll get to stay there for good. But first there's a battle to get through.

[pocket-vvardvark]

🙌✏️💎 for Alethia ! :3

TY FOR THE ASKS!! SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER LOL ʕ⁠っ⁠•⁠ᴥ⁠•⁠ʔ⁠っ

🙌 How many siblings does your OC have?

Alethia has 4 sisters! Going from oldest to youngest: Anitra(30), Asta(28), Angelica(27), and Anabelle(19)! Lots of A’s, haha. Anitra is travelling Galen as a dragonknight, Asta is helping their father in Lillandril, Angelica is wandering Rivenspire as an alchemist/translator for the mages guild and working with House Ravenwatch while Alethia is away, and Anabelle is still at home in Solitude helping her Mother at the temple of Mara. Anitra isn't very talkative, and is sort of like her mother except even more protective. She helps Alethia out in combat training a lot. Asta babies Alethia a lot because of her health, and often takes care of her funds lol, bc girly buys way too many things AND properties lmao. Angelica likes hanging out and teaching Alethia new languages. Anabelle enjoys sparring with Alethia, but dreads going over Mara’s scriptures lol.

✏️ How often do you draw/write about your OC?

Hehe, quite a bit! I love drawing and talking about Alethia! She's in my mind often 😁

💎Do you ever see yourself killing off the OC?

This is such an interesting question, because I head-canon that the vestige can't really die. I actually don't think she's going to hide her immortality. She's a helpful person, and will do anything in her power to aid others. So, maybe she'll stick around the temple of Mara and take over her Mother’s position as head priestess and continue to study restoration! 

[donatellarose]

— the chase

Sylas Briarwood x f!reader

rated e - 472 words

tags: fluff, pre critical role so Sylas is human here, university aged Sylas and reader, a distraction from studying,

prompt: ponytail with a white bow on top / hiding from your partner from angellilacs

dividers: saradika graphics

notes: FYI - aspects of the reader are inspired by Delilah because I love her so much.

Sylas rescues you from your arcane studies at university.

The Alabaster Lyceum. The highest place of learning in Tal'Dorei. An arcane college and research facility for magical and divine artifacts, and your current place of study. Between various classes on the history of Exandria, government, and specialized magical study, you barely have moment to spare.

With a groan, you sit up from the couch in the library. Numerous spell books and tomes lay scattered around you. The chaos almost out of place among the white marble walls and high ceilings. Approaching footsteps steal your attention, your boyfriend Sylas strolls casually towards you. His gait is strong, his step is sure. As if he's already carrying the title of Lord he will one day inherit. His chiseled cheekbones catch the sunlight as if he had been carved from stone. He draws a hand through his dark hair, sinking down next to you.

"My treasure. you've been locked away all day. I yearn to see you sparkle."

You smell leather and teakwood as he presses a kiss to your temple, his fingers combing through your disheveled hair.

"These spells won't learn themselves."

You cast a pointed look at the current tome. The latest of powerful spells you are trying to master. A high level necromancy spell. Finger of Death. You send negative energy coursing through a creature that you can see within range, causing it searing pain.

"You work too hard, beloved. Rest that brilliant mind of yours."

You laugh softly, pulling your tresses back into a high ponytail before tying it with a white ribbon from your pack. His gaze immediately marks your throat, his tongue swiping his bottom lip absentmindedly. You snort before smacking his shoulder.

"You animal. At least wait until we are home before you pounce."

You laugh before evading his advances, returning the tomes you've borrowed. With order rightfully restored, Sylas cages you against the nearest bookshelf, his fingers artfully work the white ribbon containing your hair into a neat little bow. You gaze up into his dark eyes with a knowing smirk, he likes the chase as much as you do.

Ducking under his arms, you disappear behind a nearby stack of books before casting invisibility on yourself. Slyas walks right past you, glancing around and moving books aside to peer into the neighboring aisles. His gaze finally lands directly where you stand, invisible only to the eye. His hand reaches out, grazing your ribcage. The exploratory touch distracts your thoughts, the invisibility spell dropping quickly.

"How did you know I was here?"

You ask, a hint of a frown on your lips from losing the game. His gaze drops to your hand, the recently gifted ring on your forth finger glistening under the glowing lights.

"My senses have been attended to you since the day we met, my little treasure, My beloved. My future Lady Briarwood."

[24karatcherrygold]

Log Entry Leith de Aurum, Master Engineer and Researcher Skylanders Academy Laboratory Cycle 5471, Day 183

"Subject: Preliminary Observations on the Nature of Traptanium Crystals

When I first encountered Traptanium, I expected it to be a simple, albeit potent, conduit for energy. A crystalline structure with high resonance potential, capable of storing and redirecting elemental forces—what any self-respecting engineer would call “a dream material.” But Traptanium has proven to be much more than that.

This crystal does not merely store energy; it anchors it. In my initial experiments, I observed that even the smallest shard creates a strange tethering effect on any nearby magical presence. It's subtle at first—a faint vibration in the air, like the hum of an engine at rest. But the closer one gets, the stronger the pull becomes, almost as if the crystal senses the magical essence within its proximity and longs to entwine with it.

The most startling discovery came during my resonance test with Cynder. (She graciously volunteered, though I suspect she was just as curious as I was—dragons do love a good mystery.) As she approached the crystal, its hue began to shift, cycling through deep purples and shadowy blacks, mimicking the essence of her elemental powers. Yet, when she extended said powers—a simple pulse of shadow energy—she recoiled in pain. Later, she described it as a tugging sensation deep in her chest, like her very spirit was being pulled taut. She attempted another pulse, but her power fizzled out as if the crystal had numbed her connection to it.

The implications of this are staggering. Traptanium doesn’t just reflect the essence of those nearby—it appears to bind their power to itself. In this way, it acts not as a vessel but as a tether. The crystal’s color shifts seem to serve as a window into the soul of those it anchors, revealing not their physical form but the nature of their magic and spirit.

I conducted a similar test with Encritus earlier this morning. His explosive igneous magic had no effect on the crystal, and when he attempted to unleash his full power, he described feeling “hollowed out,” as if the flames were extinguished before they could even reach the surface. He noted the same chest-tightening sensation Cynder described—a physical manifestation of the tether, perhaps?

My working theory is this: Traptanium operates on a level far deeper than physical or magical containment. It interacts with the very essence of its target, anchoring their soul and power to a specific point in space. This would explain why villains captured with Traptanium are described as being “bound” but not “imprisoned.” Their bodies are elsewhere—locked in Cloudcracker Prison—but their souls and powers remain locked within the crystal's grasp.

The psychological effects are worth noting as well. During a controlled interaction, Juju Kekatl, our reluctant ally, exhibited visible discomfort when near a shard of Traptanium. The crystal glowed faintly green and gold—a color I suspect corresponds to her elemental affinities—yet she refused to approach it, muttering something about “chains in the air.”

And yet… is it truly a prison? Or is it something more complex? Could the tether be broken? Reversed? Harnessed?

I wonder, too, about the ethical ramifications. This material binds and nullifies not just magic but the essence of a being. It is as though we are taking their life force and tying it to a stake, leaving them powerless and exposed. A powerful weapon, yes—but at what cost?

Still, the engineer in me can’t help but marvel at the potential applications. Imagine Traptanium-powered devices—tools capable of amplifying magic, or perhaps even drawing energy from it. Could we create machines that rival the power of our strongest Skylanders? Or… and this is perhaps more dangerous to contemplate… should we untether these captured souls and restore them to their original forms?

I’ve never seen Spyro so grim as when I posed this last question. He muttered something about Pandora’s Box and left the lab without another word.

For now, I’ll continue my tests. Traptanium is not just a material; it’s a force of nature. And like any force, it must be understood before it can be controlled.

Perhaps one day, I’ll find its limits. If it has any."

End Log.

[waywardavatarenthusiast]

Hey IDK if you’ve seen Airspeed’s video about Azula in The Spirit Temple. What are your thoughts?

Here’s the link to the video: https://youtu.be/FFNGmbBw-1U

Hi, anon!

Thank you so much for sending me this video! I can't believe I might have missed such amazing insight as to what's to come. I have a ton of thoughts on the video, but ultimately, it put me at ease.

I think the comic will be great.

When I discovered the character Azula, I was thirteen and impatient. I still am impatient, but I've only become more fascinated with Azula with time. I want an Azula redemption story. Azula deserves more than a seventy-two page graphic novel to close out her character arc.

I am overjoyed to know that the comic will be character-driven, and not feature a ton of action. Azula confronting her past through projections means that Azula is doing inner workings already. The spirit in question honestly feels like a mouth-piece for the fandom, which I love. People love to make fun of it, especially Azula's corner, but I think the amount of quality critical thinking through feminist, cultural, and literary perspectives done for one character should be studied.

I'm especially anticipating the new flashback featuring Ursa, because I myself haven't quite been sure what to think of her relationship with Azula both as a writer and fan. I'm even more excited to see some of Azula's thoughts on Ozai as they have an even stronger correlation to her thoughts on her role as a princess, sibling, and the Hundred Year War. If I understand correctly, Azula will also be met with harsh truths, most likely at the hand of Mai (definitely Mai) and Ty Lee. To be honest, I have zero clue how things will go with Projection!Zuko. One think I like about Faith Erin Hicks is that she draws a lot from the show, which would do wonders to Azula's character, repairing some of the damage that Yang did to it.

There's one fact, however, that I'm getting from the video which already makes this comic miles ahead of Yang's. I put my trust in Faith Erin Hicks with this, as she's a liberal, feminist author. Azula won't be made out to be a monster, or treated like one in this comic. That counts for everything.

I'm more interested however, in what this comic means for her character arc. I've noticed that Azula has gone unrepresented in almost all recent Avatar content, and as I suspected, this seems to be a good thing. I'm actually delighted that this comic will do little to nothing to progress her character development, because as I said earlier, Azula deserves more than what the comics could offer her.

That being said, here are my final predictions and reasonings regarding Azula's character in the near future.

I believe that Azula is getting a redemption arc. I do not believe she was originally intended to, post-show at least. Regardless of Bryke's thoughts on Azula, she is one of their biggest cash cows. Most people who don't want to see an Azula redemption aren't terribly interested in Avatar as a whole. Bryan Konietzko has already stated the comics will be relevant, but they won't be looked back on. An Azula redemption movie, in theatres, is the most likely plot to restore the prestige of Avatar (as much as I love Korra, a ton of people feel as if it dropped the ball). If the first movie from Avatar Studios isn't well received, it may very well be the last. Oddly enough, this is a fandom where fans are listened to, if the creative team doesn't have bias of personal feelings on the matter (see the author responses to the Azula fanbase and Zutara).

Thanks again!

[impossiblycolorfulpanda]

Alternate ending of ATLA if there was a book 4: air, and Ozai was actually Vaatu, the dark avatar, a one-man team avatar, and the true instigator of Sozin's war:

Aang: Azula’s plan worked. Raava is now the spirit of darkness/chaos/yin as well as light/peace/yang, the spirit of balance itself. She can now also embody and control the sources of any/all bending.

Zuko: I don’t even know what to say.

Katara: You were incredible!

Toph: You pull off the craziest stunts.

Ty Lee: The way you turned all gigantic like that, wow! Just when we were losing, a miracle happened!

Mai: There’s never gonna be a dull moment with you, is there?

Sokka: Are the elemental spirits ok? Appa? Yue? My dad?

Aang: Yes. All souls that were absorbed, including Yue, Appa, and your dad, are now free and are going in peace. But I no longer draw power from the lion turtle spirits or elemental spirits, they all draw power from me.

Sokka: OK. Good. As long as they’re ok.

Suki holds onto Sokka’s arm and rests her head on his shoulder. Cut to Aang and Azula at the northern portal.

Azula: Now that you’ve reconnected with Raava, have you also regained your past lives?

Aang: No. That link is gone forever. I am now the first Avatar in a new line of Avatars.

Azula: You don’t say. Let’s just close the portals and call it a day.

Aang: (Reaches for the portal but stops and hesitates) Maybe I shouldn’t.

Azula: What makes you say that?

Aang: I think with the spirit portals opened, it’ll restore the ancient balance between our world and that of the spirits and it’ll help eliminate the illusion of separation that divided us for so long. Appa’s physical body may be dead but I can still sense his spirit. Iroh’s spirit is here too. Everyone we’ve ever loved and lost. What do you think?

Azula: You’re the avatar, this is your type of situation, whatever your decision is, I’ll support you.

Aang looks at the portal and smiles. Cut to the rest of the gang gathering together in front of the third middle portal. They all collapse in exhaustion. Zuko and Katara held on to each other, Sokka and Suki did the same thing as well as Aang and Azula.

Zuko: I can’t believe a year ago me and my sister’s purposes in life were competing against each other and hunting you down. And now…

Aang: And now we’re all getting along.

Zuko: Yeah…we are.

Aang: I can’t believe a year ago I was still frozen in a block of ice. The world’s so different now.

Zuko: Yeah…

Katara: The fight is finally over. But how long will this peace last? So much chaos and death have happened. I can’t help but feel like we’re the only ones left.

Azula: (To Aang) Hippie, what do you think? Are we the last ones alive?

Aang entered the avatar state and put his hand on the ground. After a few moments, he went back out of the avatar state.

Aang: No. Less than 50% of all living creatures in the physical world manage to survive but they’re all headless. All of their homes and establishments have been destroyed. No nations to govern them. No rulers to lead them. Every member of the white lotus and the original benders are all still dead.

Azula: That’s where we come in. We’re the only ones left alive who know the goals of the white lotus, so it’s up to us to complete them. The white lotus and the original benders shall be reborn through us. (To Aang) Any bright plans that you would like to share regarding that?

Aang: Even though we should learn from those who came before us, we must also forge our own path. So, as we rebuild, we should announce that we are bringing back the era of energybending and give everyone a choice to bend more than one element like me, I'll continue to be the avatar only because of my avatar spirit. This may blur up the avatar cycle but the avatar being able to reincarnate at all is good enough for me. The portals will also remain open, which means I will no longer be the bridge between the two worlds. Humans, spirits, benders, non-benders, nations, and elements will all learn to live together as one, with all of us leading them. Things will never be the same again, we are entering a new age.

Everyone nods and stands back up. They all look at the third portal. Pan to the sky, which is filled with spirits. All are flying and dancing in the sky.

[astraystayyh]

HI SAHAR I'VE COME TO VENT ABT A FIC IDEA RAHH

i was listenening to chihiro while scrolling on pinterest and found the 'loving you is my safe space' drawing from hyune's live (i could talk abt how much i love HIM for hours) and i came with a crazy fic idea lol.

i plan on making it very sad because WHY NOT and thought i'd tell you because ur the #1 tumblr council on all things hyunjin. it will be very greek mythology inspired because i actually never outgrow my pjo phase!!

i dont think ive ever been so excited to write and put out a fic before lolol.

i can't wait to make ppl cry and ty for sitting through this ramble <3

oh my god i'm so excited for you :(( that feeling of being so excited to write is truly unmatched right!!! you're so sweet wdym #1 hyunjin tumblr council KZLAHKEJ but i'll take it I ACCEPT IT GLADLY!!!!

that painting destroyed me that man is single-handedly restoring my faith in romance like how does he do it???? i'm so eexcited to read the fic hyune + greek mythology is always a great match!!!!!! good luck writing my love <333

[nikiviki]

A Very Merry Phichimetti Week Day 1: traveling and arriving at airports

some sleepy boys waiting for their flight

[jessamine-rose]

AAAA HI I JUST WANTED TO SAY THAT I LOVE YOUR WRITING FOR CAPITANO, IT IS SO NICE AND DOESNT EVEN FEEL YANDERE, THE WAY YOU EXPLAIN THE STORY AND EVERYTHING IS EXACTLY HOW I IMAGINE CAPITANO IS!

TY SO MUCH FOR WRITING THAT!!! ALSO I LIKE TO IMAGINE A SILLY SCENARIO WHERE CAPITANO IS FIGHTING SOMEONE AND HE GLANCES AT A FLOWER FROM AFAR AND STOPS HIS FIGHTING JUST TO PICK A FLOWER, AAHHHH YOU HAD ME JUST FALL IN LOVE WITH CAPITANO

Read Herbarium here!!

Ohh thank you for the compliment and your silly imagine, Anonie!! I was inspired to write my own scarier take on your idea, so enjoy this drabble  (づ ᴗ͈  ˬ ᴗ͈ )づ*.ﾟ

Tw:: YANDERE, violence, blood, murder, stalking, Stockholm Syndrome

Note:: Female reader, pre-release Capitano

♡ 0.7k words under the cut ♡

The meadow makes for an optimal battlefield. The open space enables various fighting styles. There are no obstacles for opponents to use as shields or hiding places. The soil can soak up the blood and consume the unclaimed bodies for nourishment.

It is only a pity that the flowers must lay witness to such atrocities. They are silent spectators if not casualties to be trampled on and stained with blood. There is no need to mourn them, however.

Once the battle reaches its end, nature shall persevere and reclaim its home. Some flowers may even be granted an untainted death and a beautiful afterlife by the mercy of the First Harbinger.

✿ ⚘ 

The makeshift battlefield is home to a variety of wildflowers. The vivid scene is an unlikely resting place for the Captain’s opponents.

Capitano’s sword slashes the soldier’s arm in a spray of blood. They scream and drop their weapon, staggering away from him.

Blood drips from their wounds and dyes the grass red. The meadow has become a mess of ruined flowers and mutilated bodies. They trip over the newest corpse, recoiling at the sight of their comrade’s crushed head.

The gods are so cruel. Why must they be the last man standing?

The Captain has been silent throughout the entire fight. No proud insults or cruel laughter as he killed their comrades one by one. No unnecessary bloodshed or wasted movements to draw out his opponents’ suffering. He works with cold precision, taking no sadistic entertainment in the fall of his enemies.

He is determined to finish them off as quickly as possible.

There is one thing which the soldier finds odd, however. From what they’ve witnessed, the Captain could have easily murdered everyone in one fell swoop. So why did he allow his opponents to scatter? Why did he attack them in different parts of the meadow? Why did he choose to prolong their terror?

The soldier tries to retreat, only for Capitano to land another critical hit on their leg. They collapse just a few feet away from his initial standing point.

They were all so foolish to think that they stood any chance against the Captain.

Their team had only been tasked to spy on the Fatui’s military camp. They hadn’t expected to find the First Harbinger in a secluded meadow of all places, seemingly distracted by a patch of blue flowers.

…Strangely enough, those flowers show no signs of damage.

The sound of ominous footsteps snaps the soldier out of their thoughts. Capitano doesn’t even give them a second to recover.

That is another benefit of this battlefield. In a meadow located far away from civilization, the screams of terror are left unheard.

✿ ⚘ 

The meadow’s peace has been restored.

Capitano sheaths his sword and inspects the final corpse. He was successful in minimizing the range of the blood splatters. The flower patch remains pristine, undefiled by the battle.

How inconvenient. Despite residing in such a large meadow, the forget-me-nots had chosen to flourish in a single area. He had to maneuver his attacks to ensure that those flowers would emerge unscathed.

The light blue petals are perfectly spotless, though their fragrance is drowned out by the iron scent of blood. It was wise of him to prepare an extra set of gloves.

“My lord! What happened?”

His spy has finally arrived. He walks past the corpses and kneels on the grass.

Capitano changes his bloody gloves. “I was merely ambushed by a few low-ranking fools. Sergeant Charon, your status report.”

“Of course!” He looks up and continues speaking. “Your wife is in good health, though she appears to be quite listless as of late. She still spends the majority of her time in her private library.”

His mission will be over in a few days. He must remain patient.

“And what of her new guard?”

“They rarely speak to your wife, as per your orders. From what we have seen, they are performing their duties without fail.”

“Continue to monitor their activity. Should they show any signs of suspicious behavior, eliminate them on sight. You are dismissed.”

“Understood, my lord!”

With that, Sergeant Charon leaves the meadow.

If his spies were able to notice the difference in his darling’s gaze, she must be exceptionally melancholic in his absence.

A cruel side of Capitano finds gratification in knowing that the light in her eyes has become exclusively reserved for his company.

Capitano picks a small bouquet of forget-me-nots, mindful of his bloodstained armor. The gift will certainly elicit one of his darling’s rare smiles. He is looking forward to their reunion.

♡

Once again, Capitano challenges my ability to write action scenes. Imagine his broken Damsel waiting for him in Snezhnaya, reading her books and wishing for his safe return :’>

Thank you again to everyone who has liked my Capitano works and sent me your sweet messages!! And once again, thank you so much to @diodellet for peer-reviewing this and suffering alongside me!! I didn’t expect myself to become so attached to the twisted love story of Capitano and my darling, but I dug my own grave  (＞人＜;) Tag a Capitano enjoyer!! @bye-bye-sunbird @yandere-romanticaa @shumidehiro @dear-yandere @northcafe @dulcetthorns @lambdrop @uhhhh-hi-im-sorry-for-this @poetics-of-fuubutsu @p214ven @elixir-de-silence @loleah @springtidewaves @frostedclementine @literaree @the-dreaming-city @something-was-here @lyra-mew @siphite @blankussy @yanmaresu @frogchiro @alexteea @zana-horowa @lcveaesop @the-dreaming-city @micchikari @ryo-ri @harmonysanreads @something-was-here

[mintmatcha]

ukai keishin - grumpy

amy!!!! ty so much for the request- i really admire your writing and i hope you like this!!!]

Summary: just a snapshot of your relationship with keishin

Contains: NFSW, 18+, no reader pronouns, reader has a vagina, new relationship/established relationship, soft smut, slight mention of relationship issues.

ukai x reader

word count: 4k

cross posted: ao3

The woody vine digs into the pad of your thumb as you pluck another pepper. The repetition has dug a noticeable indentation into the skin, one that makes you wince every time you harvest a vegetable. In the low light of pre-dawn, sun still tucked behind the mountains, you can't see the bruising on your fingers, but you can feel how it pulses. Popping the digit into your mouth, the warmth of your tongue is automatically soothing, so much so that you can ignore the soft taste of soil on your skin.

“I told you to bring gloves.” Keishin chides, barely looking up at you. He’s squatted a couple feet away, elbows resting on his thighs as he works. The rubber boots, with his oversized overalls crammed into the top, squeak every time he shifts. Pick, squeak, pick, squeak. You open your mouth to tease him, but the way his eyes meet yours, steeled and firm, tell you he’s not in the mood. Cinching his teeth around the worn leather, he pulls his hand from the glove and leaves it dangling from his mouth, lips curled to avoid touching the dust directly. Even in his goofy attire, there’s something about his focus- the downward cast of his eyes, the hint of his canine over the leather, the steadiness of his hands- that makes your heart flutter. Wordlessly, he takes the glove out of his mouth and tosses it your way. You catch it with a fumble.

“Are you sure?” you ask as you pull it on. The tips of the glove gap above your fingertips, bending outward as you clench your fist.  “What about you?”

He shrugs and returns to work. Even in the darkness you can see his scowl. “I guess I’m not as delicate as you.”

You didn’t blame him. He doesn’t mean to be this… grumpy. This was the worst time of year for Keishin; harvest season overlapped with volleyball preliminaries. The late nights he had been pulling with the team after work on top of these early mornings at his family’s farm had to be draining. It was no wonder that date nights had become nearly nonexistent. It didn’t help that your work schedule often led to you working on the weekends, meaning that between the two of you there were no free days. Sleepovers are far and few between; both of you still live at home and, despite the fact you are both well into your twenties, your parents weren’t too keen on your sleeping next to someone while unwed. No free days, no free nights.

Again, you didn’t blame him. It wasn’t like he was trying to avoid you, three jobs was a lot for anyone. It was hard to ignore your concern for his well-being, but he was always quick to dismiss your worries. ‘I’m an adult.’ he always insisted. ‘I can balance myself.’ 

Was it selfish to miss him? Was it selfish to wish there was an extra hour in his day for you? 

“You didn’t have to come.” Ukai says, matter-of-fact. “You should be sleeping right now.” 

“I want to be here.” you insist. It’s almost a lie. Do you really want to be here, squatting in the dirt, picking vegetables at 5:30am? Of course not, but you wanted to be here for him. With him. 

The metal thermos at your feet wobbles as you adjust, the deep squat you’ve been sitting in starting to ache deep in your thighs. Dropping forward onto your knees, the gravel of the path digging into your kneecaps, you wrap your hands around the metal, pressing it against your chest to feel the ambient warmth. The blonde doesn’t turn from his work, but he does tilt his head towards you, a small sign of his attention.

“You gonna hold it or drink it?’ 

You huff before taking a delicate sip, trying to avoid burning your lips. “I’m savoring it, ‘Shin.”

“ ‘Savoring it.’ ” he repeats. The grit of sleep still clings to his voice. He sounds weathered, tired. “Are you gonna let me ‘savor’ some of that?”

“Maybe.” you take another sip before placing the cup back down, this time closer to him, a silent invitation. It’s like trying to feed a stray cat, luring him in with the promise of something tasty. “If you’re good.”

A long moment passes and he doesn’t move, he just studies you. There may have been a flicker of a smile, a hint of a good mood hiding underneath the surface, but it's gone before you can process it.

“You know.” he says, “I don’t know how you do it.” he continues working with bare hands and, even without protection, he works so much faster than you. You can tell he’s been doing this for years; every twist of his wrist seems practiced. It’s something you try and emulate each time you’re here with him, but it only slows you down more. 

“Do what?”

Keishin finally stops. He chews his cheek for a moment, eyes flickering across your features. He opens his mouth, then shuts it with a sigh as he weakly gestures to the thermos at your feet. “The coffee. How do you make the coffee?”

You can’t help but sigh as you fall back onto your seat. You cross your legs as you grab the thermos, taking a deep pull. Again, you savor it with a hum and Keishin snorts at your antics. He picks from the row of plants once more before standing. Hands on the back of his pelvis, he stretches slowly, popping his back with the same care an old man would. It reminds you of his grandfather, but you keep that remark to yourself. 

“ ‘Shin, you make yourself coffee every day- probably the same way I do.” you say as he plops himself next to you. The cup is already waiting for him when he reaches for it.

“But yours is always better.” he doesn’t say it with the sweetness of a compliment- he says it like a fact. It shouldn’t make you smile this wide, but it does. He blows over the lid of the mug, watching the steam twist into the air for a moment before taking a drink. It was your coffee, but  you had made it for him- just a splash of cream, a crazy amount of sugar: just the way he likes it.  The crinkle at the corner of his eye as drinks tells you that he notices. 

“Are you savoring it?” you ask. He just closes his eyes and sighs.

"I guess I am."

Even without looking, his pinky finds yours, looping together gently. It's the gloveless hand, finding yours. Bare skin against bare skin, warmth against warm. Your body prickles with warmth as he squeezes; something about him pulling you closer, even if it’s just a finger’s width closer, makes your heart jump.  It’s funny how the smallest gesture makes you melt. Keishin didn’t always have a lot to give you; your relationship was a collection of these small moments together, settled between his jobs and yours, but it was enough. 

Every moment together is restorative.

“Cinnamon.” you press a kiss into his shoulder as you snag your cup back. He peeks at you through one open eye,  “I put cinnamon in the coffee.”

Keishin leans into you, resting his head against your shoulder. He nuzzles into your sleeve, drawing in a deep breath, before pulling away to sit up straight again. Reaching back into the row of plants before you, he plucks one carefully before dropping it into the bucket. “Nah, that’s not it.”

You blink. “Uh, yeah. It is.”

“Nah. It’s because it’s made with love.” he smirks.

You pretend to think for a moment. "Actually, I didn't make this cup with love- so you're wrong."

He rolls his head back to watch you. "Oh yeah?"

"I made it with hate." 

"Really." he tilts his body, chest pressed against your shoulder.

"You didn’t taste my loathing?" you tease.

The tip of his nose grazes your ear, nudging you softly. His breath warms the side of your face, lips just a moment from your skin. He’s patient, waiting for you to come to him. You try and resist for just a moment, but he nudges you with a huff. 

You can’t help but crumble.

 There’s a hint of a chuckle as you finally turn to meet his lips. The kiss is off center, connecting at the corner of your mouth. You try to pull back to correct it when a leathered hand grips on to your jaw and he holds your face steady, squishing your lips with sheer force. Ukai doesn’t hesitate to deepen the kiss, his tongue swiping your lower lip before dipping into your mouth. He tastes like coffee and cinnamon, sweet and bitter. With every movement, he savors you, pulling you deeper and deeper until the both of you are twisted into each other's embrace. 

When he pulls away, it’s too soon. It’s not until he’s panting against you that you realize your own lungs are burning for air, almost as if your hunger for him had outweighed your need to breathe.

He hums thoughtfully. “I dunno, tastes like love to me.”

You roll your eyes, trying to bite back your smirk as you lean in for another kiss. “God, you’re the worst, Shin.”

This time, he doesn’t connect. Instead, he pulls away, mouth downturned once again as he stares back into the sea of green. It’s an unfocused stare, focused more on his thoughts than his surroundings. 

“Yeah, I kinda am, aren’t I?”

“Hey, what-” you struggle with what to say. “Don’t be like that.”

“I mean, it’s true.” he shrugs. “This is our first date in, what? 3 weeks? And we’re working on my fucking grandpa’s-”

Your elbow cracks against the soft of his ribs, a bit harder than necessary. He wheezes slightly as you knock the air out of him. “Negativity be gone.”

He whines a bit too dramatically. “Oh my god, what’s wrong with you? Did you learn that from Sugawara? I’m never letting you watch a game ever again.”

It’s hard to hold back your smirk. “I mean- it worked! I’m not going to let you ruin the moment with your nega-!”

“Shut up for a second!” he says and this time he’s the one throwing an elbow. “I’m trying to apologize for being a shitty boyfriend!”

“You shut up!” you mirror him, but he’s ready this time. His response is quick, catching your arms against his. You two continue, poking back and forth roughly, laughter bubbling up. “You don’t need to apologize for being busy!”

“Well, I’m going to.” he grabs the edge of your shirt, leaning into you once again. “Come here and accept it.”

The gravel shifts under your feet as you scramble to stand, pulling out of his grasp. He watches you in confusion as you back away, but his look quickly transforms into something playfully predatory. The shift is wordless, but both of you understand the game that’s about to unfold. 

“Come. Here.”

“No way.”

You turn on your heel and run. Keishin’s quick, grunting with effort as he throws himself forward. The sound of his shoes, squeaking against the rock, is faster than you anticipate and you have to force your legs to pump quicker. The  cool morning air burns your throat as you barrel down the row, the dew covered leaves brushing against your arms and leaving wet stripes. Something about the simple act of moving dissolves all your tension, all your worries. 

You turn your head to check in on your pursuer. Keishin is behind you, running with just as much force as you, but he’s grinning ear to ear with breathless laugh. It’s not his usual mischievous grin, but a soft one. A relaxed one. His baseball cap is halfway off of his head, caught by the wind, but he doesn’t reach to save it. He’s too busy reaching for you.

Everything is quiet except the two of you, laughing breathlessly as you chase each other like children. The sun has just started to crest the mountains, illuminating the sky with a blur of pastels. The pink of the sky reflects in his hair, catching in the glint of his eye as his gaze meets yours, and something in your brain tells you that you’ll remember this exact moment for the rest of your life.  You want the moment to freeze, to stay  in this childish bliss forever-

-but, of course, it doesn’t.

The rubber toe of Keishin’s boot catches a rock, sending him tumbling forward into a slow fall. He stumbles, catching himself for a moment before falling onto his knees, then his face. With a wince, he rolls on to his back, arms and legs spread eagle in defeat. Oversized pants, chunky boots, a stupid baseball cap: he looked more like an exhausted toddler than an adult. You slow to a jog, trying to pretend his fall wasn’t absolutely hilarious, but your stomach is clenching with the repressed laughter. Backtracking, you join his crumbled form.

“You okay?” you’re panting much harder than you should be. God,  shouldn’t the smoker be less athletic? 

“No, I think I’m really hurt.” 

“Where? Your knees?” you drop to your knees immediately and reach for him, taking his hands in yours. The palm of his non gloved hand is scraped, but there’s no sign of blood. 

“My ego.” he groans, “I think I bruised it.”

You  let out something that isn’t quite a sigh or a groan. “You jerk.” you lean down and place a kiss on the bridge of his nose, right over where it crinkles when he smiles. “You had me worried for a second.”

He cranes forward to press his lips against yours, but only going as far as to brush his lips against yours. Every movement of your lips is a ghost against his, each breath more present than the feeling of skin. Each kiss is just a tease, barely a taste, and it makes you feel hungry. His hand circles your waist before drawing a line up your spine and your hunger deepens, burning deep into your core.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around lately.” he says against your skin, hand guiding you closer to him. You lay down next to him, resting your head on his bicep. It should feel silly, to be laying in the dirt, in the middle of the field, but there’s something so natural about being with him that makes you forget about your surroundings. There’s something natural and unadulterated about being quiet with each other.

“It won’t be like this forever, I promise.” he’s the first to break the silence. “One day, we’ll see each other every day. Just- be patient with me.”

You kiss his shoulder. “You’re worth the wait.” you place another one a few inches upwards. “I miss you, but you’ll always be worth the wait.”

Ukai rolls, throwing a knee over your hips to loom over you. His bangs tickle your forehead as he kisses you. It’s short. “I miss you.”

He places another peck on your lips. “Every day.”

Another kiss catches you off guard. “Every night.” 

Another one. This one is long enough for you to kiss back. “Constantly. I miss you constantly.”

You hook a leg over his ass, fingers starting to fiddle with the buttons holding his overalls up. “Prove it.”

He hesitates. Tilting his head up, he holds his breath as he scans the row, searching for any signs of movement in the distance. Until now, you had forgotten that other people even exist. The air is still, only the distant sound of crows cutting through the silence. His muscles relax against you after a moment, gaze returning to study your features. 

“I missed you.” he leans in and breathes into the shell of your ear before sinking his canines into the lobe. The sharpness sends you keening in surprise, pressing yourself farther into him. He takes the opportunity to tuck his arm under the arch of your back, using the angle to hold your hips against his, his forming bulge pressed right against your core. Your hands are still twiddling with the clasp on his overalls, your proximity to him making the simple task much harder than it should be. Every one of his movements is pulling you into him, like he can’t get you close enough to be satisfied. He sucks on the soft on your neck finishing the hickey off with a bite.

“Why’d you wear these stupid, ugly pants?” you huff as you finally free a button. Ukai breaks away from your neck to laugh before tracing his tongue across the bruise. The warmth surprises you and you can’t stop the whine that escapes you. 

“Fuck off.” his free hand easily unclinches your pants before shoving them down. The denim digs into the plush of your thighs as he struggles to place himself between your legs. The ground is cold and coarse against your bare skin, but you can’t focus on anything other than the heat of his breath trailing down your neck.

“Fuck- I missed you.” he repeats as you finally unclasp his overalls and slide them down. They hang off his hips, just low enough for his erection to hang over the fabric, his dooling cockhead resting against your stomach. Firmly, he taps his cock against you with a soft thwack, watching the translucent strings of precum connecting you stretch and break. It dribbles on the hem of your shirt and you want to admonish him for it, but when your eyes meet, his blown out pupils take your words away. The way he watches you, eyes hazed over with lust, is borderline feral. All you can do is kick down a pant leg, freeing your leg and allowing it to fall farther open for him.

Keishin slides further down you, greedily dragging the spongy head of his cock through your folds, gathering your slick. Each pass across your clit makes you twitch, thighs squeezing around his hips.  With a wolfish grin, he splits your cunt with his free hand and whistles at the sight. 

“I missed this pretty little pussy.” he pressed forward unceremoniously and the head of his cock squeezes into you with a pop. The stretch aches, but something deeper in you is burning for more. “Fuck, look how wet you are… “

He’s quick to bottom out, slamming his hips into yours as if he can’t hold back any longer. His eyes are struggling to stay open as he rolls his hips against you faster, struggling to continue watching your poor pussy struggle to take him. The weeks without him have left you desperate, hips uncontrollably bucking against his. The rhythm is off, your bodies struggling to keep up with each other and just ending up slamming against each other unevenly. It’s wild,  it leaves you breathless but your approaching high is so painfully close, neither of you can slow down to gather yourselves.

“You’re so good, fuck, so tight…” his head lolls forward, eyes fluttering closed, “You… so good… so hot… fuck, I missed you.”

Your hands wander up the front of his shirt, nails scraping against his chest. “Ple-ase, Keishin.” you beg, too breathless to say anything else. The sound of your voice makes him crumple over with a whine, fingers digging painfully hard into the fat of your hips as he struggles to pull you impossibly close. His cock twitches, spilling pulse after pulse of hot cum deep inside you. 

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit.” he murmurs, hips dragging out of you slowly. The movement makes you feel sloppy, the mixture of his cum and yours spilling down the crack of your ass. The sheer lewdness of it makes your core clench with desire, but the fading heat in your core makes you feel borderline nauseous. 

As you begin to untangle yourself, trying to hide your disappointment, he pulls you back in.

“Don’t.” he whispers into your chest. “I’m not- I’m not done with you.”

Ukai’s headband has slipped backwards, barely hanging on to the back of his head. The mess of blonde, half of it plastered to his forehead, tickles your cheek as he kisses your cheek. The edge of desperation is gone, replaced with something gentler, as he rolls back into you. Every bit of friction has been replaced with the slick, warmness of his cum. 

“I wanna wake up next to you every day.” Something about cumming has made him sappy. His hand dips low to circle your clit, tracing those practiced patterns you love so much. This time, instead of a fast, dangerous rise, the heat inside you pours slowly, like magma flowing through your core. 

“I’m going to buy you a big ol’ house.” he mumbles into your chest, looking up at you through his eyelashes. “And a pretty little ring. And -oh fuck you feel so good-  and, and you’re never gonna miss me again.” 

God, the term making love is corny, so impossibly cringey, but as he whispers those promises into your skin, you understand it. It’s more about the need to feel closer, the need to hold and be held. It’s three weeks of emotions that neither of you can vocalize.

Fuck, you feel so full. Physically, emotionally. Every caress is tender, delicate and appreciative. Your thumbs trace over his crow’s feet and for the umpteeth time this morning, you savor the moment. 

“I wanna be with you forever.”

Everything feels in focus- the friction of his jeans against your knees, the fabric clinging to your stomach, prickled with sweat, the ministrations of your lover’s lips against your skin as he whispers sweet nothings into you- but everything fades as you cum. Your orgasm hits slowly; you don’t even know you’re there until your legs are kicking out uncontrollably. Fingers tangled in the cotton of his shirt, you keen one last time. In the blur, you’re faintly aware of him joining you, his words dissolving into whines.

It takes a heartbeat for everything to still again. Keishin tilts his head up, studying you for a moment before speaking. 

“‘M so tired.” he essentially collapses on you, knocking the air out of your lungs. The lay he goes immediately slack in your arms would have been cute if whte weight of his body wasn’t pressing our bare skin into the gravel under you.  “I’m gonna nap.”

After quickly ruffling his hair, you press him up, gentling encouraging him to get off. “Come on, sleepyhead, your grandpa’s gonna start looking for us if we’re gone for too long.”

Keishin grimaces, propping himself up onto his elbows as he withdraws from you. The air against the mess on your thighs makes you shiver. “Please don’t mention the old man while I’m still inside you.”

He falls back into his heels and leaves you laying there. Before adjusting himself, he takes your bare leg by the ankle and tries to slip your pant leg back on. The hem gets caught on your heel and he fumbles.

“I can dress myself, Shin, you don’t have to.” you sigh, even as you adjust to make it easier. Denim sticks to your wet skin and he continues to work, completely ignoring your protest. As you lift your hips, letting him slide it past your waist. “Did you mean it?” 

He hums a question, buttoning your pants.

“You really wanna spend the rest of your days with me?”

Ukai looks up at you. “Well. Yeah, of course.” he smiles, “Who else is gonna put cinnamon in my coffee?”

[azenkii]

A Long List of Trash Fire Lord Zuko Headcanons

...that i couldn't get out of my head:

(warning: SUPER LONG POST i havent figured out how to trim posts yet)

he's the one who unchains azula despite iroh's protests. she doesn't even try to fight him, just cries into his shoulder and keeps mumbling about how father's going to be so disappointed in her. he takes her to her rooms and has her drink a sleeping draught, then stations the best guards he has left outside her chambers.

his first council meeting takes place literally a day after sozin's comet. he hobbles into the council chamber shirtless with his entire torso covered in bandages and every council member just looks at him like '...what'

he does NOT sleep for like,,a week after sozin's comet and then another two weeks after his coronation. katara, aang and suki try to persuade him to sleep and he doesn't listen. eventually sokka, toph and mai team up to literally drag his ass to bed and tell him he's not allowed to get up until he sleeps (does mai pin him to the bed with her knives? yes. is it kinky or sexual in any way? definitely not.)

he drinks So. Much. Tea. at this point it's practically tasteless to him but he drinks it anyway because he just needs something to do and tea is something familiar. he keeps iroh on his toes because he's constantly asking for new tea blends, uncle, i think i actually tasted the last one,

he flat-out refuses to grow his hair for at least a year after ozai's defeat. the second it starts getting close to his chin he shears it off himself, with his knife, and his stylist has a heart attack every single time

when he's tired he'll occasionally jump up when one of his guards moves. it stops after a bit, but for the first month and a half or so he's really twitchy. when sokka asks, the only explanation he can come up with is that he's not used to having people stand behind him silently and not want to kill him, much less want to protect him (sokka immediately takes him out for a shopping trip and makes a point of walking behind him the entire time, but only on zuko's right side, where he can clearly see it if sokka moves towards him)

when the healer declares azula mentally unstable and in need of an institution, he shuts himself in his office for the rest of the night. no one's allowed in, not even iroh. he finally emerges in the morning, eyes red from crying and sleep deprivation, and tells the librarian that he'd like a list of the best mental institutions in the country, please, the best in the world if you can get them

he loves theatre (is this even a headcanon?). unfortunately it practically died out in the fire nation along with the rest of the creative arts, leaving nothing but small troupes like the ember island players. one of zuko's personal goals (meaning things he wants to accomplish that aren't as important as restoring his country) is to bring back theatre; he finally manages to do it after about eight months or so of being fire lord, along with other arts like dancing, music and sculpture

he establishes a national day of mourning, on the first day of autumn every year, to commemorate the genocide of the air nomads. from 100AG onwards, every calendar printed in the fire nation has it marked. at first it was called the day of repentance, but aang persuaded him to have it changed (by arguing that he didn't want guilt to be a literal staple of fire nation culture)

he introduces literally So Many educational reforms, plus a mandatory class that teaches students about the cultures of the other nations (air nomads included) and how some of their traditions overlap

he turns down the offer of having a statue put up of him in the capital. toph ignores him and does it anyway.

he visits azula regularly, makes sure she's (relatively) comfortable and well-fed, and sometimes just sits down outside her door and tells her about everything that's going on right now ('some of the far colonies have developed their own standardised writing, azula, you wouldn't believe it, and i've asked the fire sages to come visit more often—but you never liked them, did you? oh, well; i'll make sure none of them go into your chambers by mistake')

(he doesn't know it, but when he does this azula sits by the door and listens. she wonders what kind of writing the colonists have developed, and whether or not the fire sages have taken on some new recruits.)

he hates being above anyone else. never sits in the throne if he can help it, nor does he sit on the dais in the council room. when he talks to people shorter than him, he finds himself stooping a little bit to talk to them on their level (the exception to this rule is sokka, who he mocks for being shorter all the way up until sokka grows taller than him, the bastard)

the first time he visits the earth kingdom, the earth king's ministers call a toast. he ends up being the only one who has to sit out, because he's too young to drink by earth kingdom law

once his servants figure out he won't kill them for talking to him, they start becoming a lot more bold, telling him off when he doesn't take care of himself. at one point, they force him to let them take care of him so much that he literally just bolts into the gardens and hides there until the staff rope in mai and ty lee

when he needs to escape, he does one of two things: (a) he dresses up as the blue spirit and does some parkour until he calms down, or (b) he goes to work at the jasmine dragon. (b) happens less often bc the jasmine dragon's in ba sing se, but there's been a few memorable incidents when an earth kingdom diplomat walks in and yells, 'LEE?!' when they see the fire lord

the first court artist who draws him also happens to be the one who drew azulon and ozai. he draws zuko without his scar. zuko takes one look at it and tells him, very calmly, that he'd like him to leave, please.

zuko burns the portrait. he doesn't fire the court artist, but he never calls on him again unless he has to. a second court artist is called, and can't help but be a bit confused when the fire lord tells him to be sure to include the scar

he forgets the crown. a lot. sometimes he walks into council meetings in his sleepwear with his hair tied up in a messy ponytail and a bunch of scrolls tucked under his arm. none of his councilmen have the guts (or the heart) to tell him that this is not, in fact, formal council wear

he goes to feed the turtleducks when he's stressed. he thinks he's being subtle. he's not. the entire palace knows, and they consciously give him space when they see him in the turtleduck garden

most of his staff are older than him, so they look at him and see this teeny tiny fire lord who is So Small and who Must Be Protected. the day after zuko's coronation, the head chef holds a meeting where they commence Operation Do-Not-Let-That-Boy-Turn-Out-Like-His-Father (subsection He's-The-Only-Good-Thing-We-Have)

one night he wakes up to find suki sitting in his room, decked out in full kyoshi warrior garb and makeup, and just about screams blue murder. suki tells him there are suspicions of an assassin in the palace, and would you please stop yelling it's very distracting, we won't be able to hear anyone coming over that racket

zuko gets very, very paranoid of random spirits after that. yeah, suki looks like a possibly malevolent spirit when she's wearing her makeup, what about it? (when he tells sokka he's highkey terrified of spirit shenanigans, sokka just looks at him and says, 'man, the stories i could tell...', and THAT'S when zuko remembers sokka spent like six months more than he did travelling with the avatar)

on his first visit to the southern water tribe, he removes his boots and leg guards, rolls up his pants and kneels barefoot in the snow. even though chief hakoda immediately starts trying to pull him up, he's stubborn as hell and stays kneeling for the entirety of his very long, very sincere apology-on-behalf-of-the-fire-nation speech. he nearly loses his toes to frostbite after that, and both sokka and katara never stop giving him shit for it

the first time he grows a 'beard' is completely accidental. he's stressed over some trade miscommunications with chief hakoda, hasn't slept in a few days...and then when sokka arrives as water tribe ambassador to help smooth things over, he takes one look at zuko and says 'man, facial hair does not suit you'

zuko: facial what now

he checks a mirror to find that he's got stubble covering his chin, dark enough that it almost looks intentional, and holy gods how the fuck did he not notice this before

'UNCLE WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME' 'i assumed you were doing it on purpose' 'WHEN HAVE I EVER DONE ANYTHING ON PURPOSE'

he shaves it all off immediately, of course, which prompts a lot of teasing and rib-poking from sokka until zuko finally snaps that he's scared it'll make him look like his father. sokka stops after that.

(the day after sokka leaves, zuko finds that a mysterious someone has scribbled all over ozai's royal portrait, giving him a frankly ridiculous beard and moustache that literally CANNOT be grown in real life. oddly enough, he can't bring himself to care about the defamation of royal property. he's too busy laughing.)

his paths cross with toph and sokka more than any of the others, because sokka is ambassador and toph is technically still a beifong. most of the time, at formal functions, he ends up sequestered in the corner with toph and a hoard of snacks, and they talk and swear much more than they usually do (zuko's ministers once heard him when he was drunk with toph, and the servants swear the older ministers' ears started bleeding)

he restores fire nation cultural festivals, and in doing so subjects himself to learning a lot of complicated dances

during one memorable week, he wrote so many letters and drafted so much legislation that he ran out of paper. he had to go visit the nearest school and ask for some

he keeps up with his firebending and sword training even though it's hard to fit into his schedule. his ministers refrain from reminding him that he has guards to protect him now; it's still hard for zuko to trust his safety with anyone but himself (team avatar is the exception).

he started sleepwalking about two months into his reign. no one knew why. one time, he nearly sleepwalked right off the edge of a balcony, and one of his guards had to grab him by the back of his robes.

the sleepwalking stopped after around a month and never happened again. at this point it's practically palace legend.

after freeing the war prisoners, he went around collecting every single earthbender-proof wooden cell he could find in the capital and surrounding areas. when he'd gotten most of them, he gathered them into a huge pile in the city square and set fire to them with his own hands.

unfortunately he couldn't do that with the waterbender metal cells but he did get toph to come in and bend them all into pretty shapes (well, toph thought they were pretty shapes. everyone else thinks they're meaningless squiggles)

he learned how to write with both hands at the same time out of sheer necessity (he refused scribes until it became clear that he'd be putting some people out of a job; that was when he started letting scribes write very, very minor things, but all important documents/drafts/letters are still written by him)

he once put the wet end of an ink brush in his mouth instead of the wooden end by mistake. didn't even realise until he bit down to keep it in place and ink went oozing everywhere

when his guards rushed in to find him coughing and spluttering black liquid all over his desk they thought he'd been poisoned but no he's just stupid

on his 17th birthday, his first one after being crowned, he got tackled by team avatar in the middle of the ballroom and ended up at the bottom of a cuddlepile for like ten minutes

this cuddlepile happened at an event that was very much public and very much formal. it was a scandal for weeks

just. fire lord zuko, guys. so much potential

[starrycrim]

For the thing -

Reborn : Adrienn

Rejuv : Alexandra

Deso : Nova

hell yea!! ty for ask <3

adrienn

sexuality headcanon: pansexual!

gender headcanon: afab, nonbinary, xe/they/fae! xe/they are canon obvi, but I love headcanoning xem using fae/faer pronouns as well.

a ship I have with said character: two primary ones! I love xem and Arclight a lot (Fairyloudshipping), they're really sweet and make my heart go :) but I've also been growing really fond of Ace/Adrienn as well (Enchantedillusionshipping). nonbinary solidarity but also there are Piles of headcanons-- I think they'd really get along and they're adorable to me.

a BROTP I have with said character: Elias, actually! I'm very fond of his character ending and I think like. a character who's all but lost faith in the city meets a character who is determined to restore xyr faith in the city is v heartwarming to me.

a NOTP I have with said character: LORD. um. really getting put through the ringer with these rn, I don't really have one 😭 I enjoy both of the ships I have with xem v dearly. also nonbinary representation in relationships always makes me really happy as nb characters tend to be forgotten in relationships. 

a random headcanon: xyr friends conspire to carry them away from work to rest when they're overworking themself. Arc and Ace co-conspire to surprise them by teleporting them to places that they'd enjoy but don't necessarily have the time to get away to so they can get there and back quickly when xe can only get away from work for a few minutes.

general opinion over said character: oh the beloved. xe was one of my favorite characters before Ace pitched a tent in my head just because seeing genuine nonbinary representation made me so happy. I love them very dearly.

---

alexandra

sexuality headcanon: bisexual, female lean!

gender headcanon: afab, cis, she/they

a ship I have with said character: I like her and Karen as a ship although I don't know a ton about them after seeing all your art :> it's very cute!

a BROTP I have with said character: Sashila gang as a whole, tbh-- I think they're all really interesting.

a NOTP I have with said character: explodes and dies. don't know a ton about her enough to answer this, but I'll just say I support it as long as someone's being respectful!

a random headcanon: gives me the vibes that while she might never have much time for it with her job, enjoys drawing and painting. probably desperately needs a hug but enjoys it as a sort of relaxation.

general opinion over said character: honestly I need to know more about her before passing further judgment, hahaha. I love her design though, and poc representation as always makes me really happy. I think she's really pretty and has a really interesting role in the story as of now, and I love how you draw and portray her!

---

nova

sexuality headcanon: bisexual, female lean owo

gender headcanon: she/they icon. afab

a ship I have with said character: therapy, honestly. girl needs it

a BROTP I have with said character: I think she and Rosetta after everything winds down and stops being Everything Is Awful could be gal pals. I'd love to see them hang out and support each other.

a NOTP I have with said character: hard to answer this since Deso isn't done and knowing E6 stuff (since my lips are sealed), but Shiv and Nova I suppose. Shiv is a neat character but they both kind of deserve a healthier relationship.

a random headcanon: has a guilty pleasure for sweet things, including sweet drinks like martinis and margaritas. doesn't like to admit this.

general opinion over said character: not a favorite blorbo or anything (that is reserved for Aaron) but I do care her a lot. her development is really sweet and she's also very Pretty,, I am weak for pretty girls. if high-top tall shoes could kill.

[get-shiggy-with-it]

the good old days: we're in them

✧ pairing: student!shigaraki x fem!student!reader

✧ word count: 3.3k

✧ ao3 mirror

✧ warnings: college au/no quirks, cockwarming, mild degradation, brief mention of lactation kink, some light misogyny (if you've read R18CL you know), incel!Tomura, brief exhibitionism, mentions of alcohol, lowkey party setting, humor, some angst, some fluff, afab reader no pronouns

✧ summary: in which more than a game is won

✧ a/n: a short one shot sequal to my series Restoration and 18th Century Lit, this one you do have to have read the longer fic for so go give that a look over if you haven't! Thanks for requesting this anon! I get all soft when I hear people like this self-indulgent fic. And! I’ve deviated from my usual fic formula, it *starts* with smut this time. Oooo fancy~

“Stop fucking squirming,” you leaned forward to bite at Tomura’s lips as he shifted under you.

Your hands were gathering his hair and pulling it in twists to the side, tying the strands away from his face. It wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but your legs wrapped around his waist as he sat in his desk chair, cock soaked and deliciously warm in your pussy was harder to ignore. Especially when you clamped down on him every time he moved while you worked.

“Then get off my dick,” he snapped, leaning back in the chair for better leverage as he snapped his hips up. You looked straight out of those hentai memes, eyes almost crossing when he pushed you down to meet his thrust. “Fucking greedy slut.”

“Excuse-ah,” this time it was you bouncing on his length unprompted, “me, but I wasn’t the one with my cock out begging cause it was so cold.”

Your tone was entirely too even for his liking, and Tomura frowned as he dug his hands into your hips and made you grind into his lap. He really was dating such a fucking whore.

“Well, if you hadn’t fucking insisted we go to this dumbass party, then I could have fucked you hours ago,” he knew he was pouting, but you’d started meeting every roll of his hips halfway, using your thighs now to start up a slow rhythm. “Maybe don’t take so long picking an outfit next time.”

“I was picking yours asshole,” you caught his lip between your teeth again and sucked.

Joke was on you though, the more you tried to fucking tease him, the deeper he was gonna fuck you.

How d’you like that, bitch?

“What—don’t you dare fucking stop—was wrong with my outfit?”

He could feel spit pooling under his tongue. Your fucking pussy always did this to him, made his mouth water and this thighs shake while you rode him in earnest now, moaning into his ear as he made sure you felt him in your fucking guts.

God, he was never gonna get over that—the sounds you made. The sounds he pulled from you.

“Tomura, baby,” every word was punctuated with a gasp, one of his thumbs drawing those little circles on your clit that he figured out pretty quick made you cry. “I love you—and the easy dick access sweatpants provide—dearly, but your ass looks so fucking good in these jeans.”

Something weird always happened to his chest when you said stupid, cheesy shit like that. He knew that was thing fucking normies said all the time, and he used to gag whenever he heard people in the halls professing their feelings to each other. But whenever you did it, Tomura’s lips just instinctively fought to turn up at the edges and his lungs suddenly forgot what air felt like in favor of dedicating ever braincell in his body to memorizing whatever dumb as hell, sweet thing you said.

“Why does—mm yes fuck...” he stared entranced at his lap where your slutty goddamn pussy swallowed him up and pulsed around his cock with every tight circle drawn on your clit. “Why does it matter how my ass looks?”

You paused while he fought with the neckline of your top so your tits bounced free and he could suck at your nipples. And holy shit, you could call him a baby all you wanted, but he’d never get tired of the fucking taste feel smell of your chest filling his mouth and pressed so nice against his face.

Shit, he’d fucking live in your tits if he could. Suckle at you endlessly until you poured sweet fucking milk onto his waiting tongue.

Cause you told him one time that was a thing that could happen. Swatted his head away when he pawed at you for too long cause apparently if he sucked hard enough all the time—

“Listen, if your cute little boyfriend had the tightest ass on the fucking planet, wouldn’t you want to show that off to all your friends.”

His face lit up. Tomura could feel whatever blood left not pumping through this dick, rush to his cheeks and he buried his face more resolutely in your tits so as not to give you the satisfaction of flustering him.

You fucking cooed at him every time and squished his cheeks up, calling him your baby boy.

Fucking disgusting.

But damn if he didn’t love it.

“Whatever,” he groaned, picking up his pace and drinking down the delicious little whimpers you let out every time his cock met you coming down on his lap. “Shut the fuck up, and take it like a good fucking whore.”

“My fucking pleasure,” you grunted before losing all semblance of attempted hairstyling entirely, letting out a long, low moan as he pummeled that pretty pussy and sped up on your clit.

Tomura would absolutely never admit to it, but fucking you always had him feeling so fucking needy. The second your lips or your cunt were swallowing him up it was like a dam broke and every selfish request just poured out of him.

“Wanna cum,” he mumbled into your breast, whining as your walls fluttered and pulsed.

He knew what that meant now. Tomura was what you called ‘quick on the uptake’ and honed in fast on what it felt like when you started to lose it.

“Yeah? Does my pretty boy want me to make him feel good?”

God fuck yeah.

He couldn’t quite bring himself to say it out loud but, yes. Tomura was your pretty, baby boy and he needed he sweet fucking bitch to make him bust so deep inside you.

He was about to reach his peak too, teetering on the edge when the pounding started.

And not the fun kind. Not the bend you over his bed and rail you till you couldn’t fucking walk.

No, no, no.

This was balled fist slamming against his door and Dabi’s grating, smoky voice shouting from the hall.

“Could you fornicate later freaks?!” he called through the door. “You’re gonna be fucking late.”

Tomura’s orgasm hurtled to a painful halt and you groaned again—well growled was probably a more appropriate term for the snarl you let out into the crook of his neck.

“Why the hell does it matter to you?!” Tomura shouted back, the force of his voice shifting the angle of his cock. The minute stimulation felt so good he kept up the slow grinding motion.

You groaned again—decidedly much sweeter—and sucked a cheeky fucking mark right on the side of his neck.

“What are you fucking doing?” he hissed to you, but it was Dabi’s voice who answered.

Along with the click of his knob turning.

“Well, it sounded like you were having a hard time getting your bitch off, so I was gonna offer—“

Dabi stopped, taking the split second before the controller Tomura chucked at his head connected to stare fixedly at your bare ass seated on Tomura’s thighs.

“Yes, my bitch, so get the fuck out!” he yelled, coming out a little choked at the end as your slutty self kept grinding on his cock.

“Yeah, and he’s doing a great job,” you mused, languidly raising your head from his shoulder and kissing up his jawline, completely unfazed entirely by the new audience.

Tomura’s brain was ping ponging so hard between rage, cheek burning embarrassment, and being the most turned on he’d ever been in his life.

The things you fucking did to him.

“If you say so sweetheart,” Dabi, also completely unperturbed by watching you grind on his roommates dick, leaned against the doorframe like you all were chatting about the fucking mayoral election.

“I do,” you lifted your hips then, showing off one full bounce that had both Dabi and Tomura’s eyes rolling.

Though the latter was much more annoyed than Tomura could hope to be.

“Fucking show off,” his roommate muttered.

“Isn’t your boyfriend waiting in the kitchen?” you huffed and glared over your shoulder at Dabi in his platform boots and mesh top.

He scowled and flipped the two of you off with chipped, black nails and sauntered back down the hall calling, “not my boyfriend,” as he went.

He left the door wide open.

Tomura almost yelled for him to come back and close it, but you took the silence as an opportunity to start riding him full force and even though you were the one bouncing in his lap, he had to grip your waist and hold on for the ride.

Fucking bitch.

Tomura’s fucking bitch.

***

You held his hand as you walked across campus to the media building in the budding Spring evening. And that was almost as bad as you saying all those pointless, nice things to him.

Cause people looked, like they watched you linking fingers with that creepy guy in their classes or from the dining hall, and you walked swinging his hand in yours the whole way like it didn’t fucking matter.

Didn’t even occur to you that everyone on campus would know now that the hot chick they saw walking around was with him.

But all those imaginary eyes seemed to melt away as you dragged him behind you, down the old path you both used to take everyday after working in the library. Along the worn concrete sidewalk to the ‘secret door’ in the alley that was perpetually propped open with a copy of the Manifesto, taking two flights of stairs down to the basement and following the soft blue glow to the unofficial layer of The League.

You didn’t let go of his hand even after your both walked through the door.

Tomura recognized most of the people there as friends you introduced him to. You’d met them all through classes or through other friends, forming a close knit group of everyone who knew everyone which was apparent from the way they all cheered when you walked in.

He suddenly was reminded why he never came to shit like this. Not that people were scrambling to invite Tomura Shigaraki to their parties, but his skin itched even when the eyes never focused on him.

Across the room Spinner, the other co-leader of the club, who he knew the best out of everyone, waved at him, and Tomura nodded back. His eyes quickly picked Dabi out of the crowd, leaning off in the corner with a red cup in hand, forehead pushed up against his blond boyfriend’s. Keigo was apparently a reluctant member of the other gaming club on campus—cause of course there was a demand for fucking two—the president of which knew Spinner and who, of course, knew you, which led to Tomura’s asshole, sometimes voyeur roommate being invited along.

Fucking social circles were so needlessly complicated.

Tomura vaguely recognized the other blond guy in the room—Jin was his name? Maybe?—enough to pick his wild, sandy hair out of the crowd, tucked off to the side of the table laden with shitty vending machine snacks. He had his arm slung around someone Tomura had never met before, talking with another short blond girl he didn’t know and Jin’s roommate, Magne. He patted himself on the back for remembering two out of the four names. He also remembered Jin worked at the library, though he hated it, and had been tangentially responsible for hooking the two of you up in that study room, your study room.

Tomura nodded at Jin too as he saw the two of you walk in and enthusiastically shouted some greetings and only one profanity. A new record for him.

Someone else Tomura hadn’t been introduced to shouted from the floor by the gaming set up as Spinner punched the air in triumph in the glow of the victory screen.

“I’m gonna grab us some drinks,” you whispered to him, and he let go of your hand reluctantly, watching as you stopped, doling out hugs to everyone—excluding Dabi—as you went.

He looked around, cast adrift without you to hold him to the dock of social interaction.

It was clear he’d have to find a backup person to cling to for the remainder of the night if you were just gonna fucking abandon him for your friends.

Though Tomura did his best to not be all that salty about it. The residual anger melted a little bit as he watched Magne bear hug you off the floor so hard your back popped. It was only when he felt a hand on his shaking shoulder that Tomura realized he’d been laughing at the spectacle.

Spinner flashed him a toothy smile, arms crossed and watching intently as you pretended to gasp in a breath when Magne finally dropped you from her massive arms.

“Hey man,” he said, wild hair the color of those weird unicorn drinks from that cafe you liked sticking up on end. “How’s it going?”

Tomura shrugged, unsure how to respond without you to fill in the unmediated gaps in conversation.

“Fine, I guess.”

Spinner was not who he would have chosen to hang with all night. Yeah, he knew him the best, but Tomura sorta got the vibes your roommate lowkey hated his fucking guts. And while no one would say he was the master at interpersonal relationships, Tomura could fucking tell when someone didn’t like him. Most of his life till now had been spent in a constant state of snide side eyes and fake politeness.

Maybe that’s why he used to find you so fucking off putting.

But you were different now. He knew you meant all that bullshit. Spinner just wasn’t as good at pretending as he thought he was.

“Nice,” Spinner acted as though he didn’t notice the edge in Tomura’s tone. Or he was just fucking stupid. “I’m glad you guys actually came tonight, I haven’t seen you in awhile.”

He chuckled a bit to soften the blow of that last part, rubbing his neck and smiling sheepishly. Tomura didn’t return the gesture.

“Yeah,” he said simply, kicking at the scuffed linoleum with his sneakers.

He very much wished that you hadn’t tied his hair back so he could hide his face away from Spinner’s stare.

“Listen bro,” that pink head ducked down to catch Tomura’s eye, looking a little bit more guilty now than before. “I know I’ve been kind of a dick lately—and I already talked with them,” he gestured to you, currently pouring some awful, glittery concoction into Jin’s mouth as the smaller blond girl clapped beside you. “But I was just sort of ‘going through it’ for awhile and, well it doesn’t fucking matter, anyway sorry for being such an asshole...”

Tomura’s mouth got dry like it did whenever you hugged him in public or said you liked his eyes. The words drifted around in his head, spitting back error codes as they swirled.

He honestly couldn’t recall a time anyone had ever apologized to him. And he never knew what to say in normal conversation, much less fucking this. Spinner kept looking at him expectantly, but as the silence dragged on, Tomura watched his face falter just a bit.

And that made him feel even worse.

Fuck.

What would you say? Something nice??

“Don’t worry about it,” he blurted—which really was your catchphrase, but he was sure you wouldn’t mind him borrowing it.

“Thanks bro,” Spinner grinned again, this eyes closed, thin lipped thing that made Tomura feel hot just looking into the glow of it. “We’re cool yeah?”

He couldn’t see you, but he could feel that disgusting, proud stare you got every time he elected to order both your drinks when you went out or asked for extra ketchup on his own.

“Whatever, yeah,” Tomura scratched absently at his throat and Spinner jerked his head over to the gaming setup. The Smash music was drifting softly out of twin speakers.

“Wanna play a round?” he asked.

Tomura glanced quickly over at you, now watching as Jin attempted to juggle some of the small snack bags and Magne tossed more flying chips into the mix.

Yeah, you’d probably be awhile.

“...sure.”

It was halfway through the round—in which Tomura was goddamn slaughtering Spinner’s Kirby—that you finally wandered back over to him, two red cups in hand and a few bags of stolen Chex mix.

You set them both down on the small coffee table—also ‘donated’ from the theater department—and plopped next to him on the couch. Spinner growled from the floor, the other club president—The Commission apparently, who the fuck was coming up with these names?—sat kneeled behind him, hands on his shoulders and shouting words of encouragement.

The adrenaline of the fight rushing through him increased exponentially when you gripped his bicep and added your voice to the din.

“Fuck yeah, baby! Kick his fucking ass!”

“Oh wow,” Spinner yelled back. “Now I see where your fucking loyalties lie.”

“Has nothing to do with loyalty,” you laughed. “I just want to see you eat shit for once.”

“Should have come to the big tournament then!” The Commission president chuckled too, looking over their shoulder with a grin.

“Damn, now I’m really sorry I missed it,” you swung your legs up onto the cushions only to tuck them up under yourself as you stared down at the couch. “Ew what the hell is this stain?”

The Commission president was suddenly very much not looking back at you anymore, Tomura noticed. Spinner, at your comment, choked on his fucking spit, not quite dodging Tomura fast enough and tumbling straight off the map.

As Tomura’s character flashed first on the screen you cheered and gripped his face, landing a quick, wet smack of a kiss straight to his fucking lips. Spinner and his friend groaned in unison and there was a chorus of friendly disgust from everyone else gathered around watching.

He could care less.

The air felt strangely alive, people’s gazes flitting over him as though he were part of the scenery. But in a good way this time. Not the purposeful overlooking of his existence, not as though he were an accessory to the room, but a crucial part of it. Like there might be an empty space they would notice if he wasn’t occupying it.

Like he belonged attached to your hand or your hip or just on his own, playing games and drinking shitty juice and laughing at whatever weird as fuck thing Jin shouted at unprompted, random intervals.

Everyone remained gathered by the monitor as you selected your character to face off against him in the next round.

“I’m gonna...” you growled, coming in with an impressive attack and backing out of range, a move signature of yours, “suck your fucking dick!”

“I’m gonna fucking suck yours first, bitch,” he retorted and Magne offered up a kind “hell yeah” in support.

Her large fist came into view over his shoulder, which he found himself bumping against his own without a second thought.

The music filled his ears, the shouting voices no longer suffocating, but adding to the thrum in his chest—the same beat that had his lips pulled up in a smile which ached in his cheeks, but it didn’t matter.

The burn in the cracking skin around his lips and eyes was inconsequential. His face bare of the usual curtains of hair was turned up towards the screen in full display.

He watched you, silhouetted in the blue light of the monitor, saw the figures of your friends gather close around him, engulfing him like an ameba, adding Tomura in as another cell to this new organism.

He breathed.

And felt alive.

[quartzalynlove]

Mi Estrella (pt 1)

Description: Camilo x Oc childhood friends to lovers with a little bit of pining. Enjoy :)

Bored. So bored. Nighttime was the only time Ana could thrive as she studied the night sky and sketched each constellation she found; the days were long and her hands needed to work. Ana woke up and groaned at the sun beaming through her window.

The girl’s bedroom was littered in drawings of the stars scattered about from last night. The first chore was gathering them and adding them to the collection that covered the walls. Ana’s room was her own little corner of the stars.

After she dressed in her white, puffy, short sleeved shirt and long, flowing, deep blue dress, that she had sewn a white shooting star that wrapped from her right foot up to her waist, Ana searched for her glasses. The dark blue cat eye glasses had fallen from her wooden desk onto the floor. Ana adjusted them on her face feeling the texture of the painted stars on the arms on her finger tips. After tying her thick curls into a puff on top of her head with a blue head wrap and grabbing her tan bag holding a sketchbook and pencils Ana raced downstairs.

“Mamá can-” She began to yell into the empty kitchen.

Ana sighed. Always gone, always busy were her parent’s lifestyle. Luckily there was a backup plan. Ana left her home and ran for the heart of Encanto, the Casita.

Ana was quite close to the Madrigals, her Mirabel and Camilo were all friends since children and the older girls adopted her as a sister. Pepa and Julieta loved her like their own child and while abuela was usually indifferent, since the restoration of the magic even she had grown fond of the girl.

Ana knocked on the front door of Casita before being greeted by Pepa with a smile.

“Morning, señora,” Ana beamed, “Are Camilo and Mirabel home?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.

“I’m afraid Mirabel is running errands this morning, but Camilo is home.” Pepa moved from the doorway letting Ana inside Casita.

Before Ana could reach the door upstairs Casita hit a painting against Camilo’s wall, something it did only to tell him she was here. The door swung open revealing the girl’s best friend.

“Camilo!”

“An!”

The two performed the handshake they made as kids and Casita led them down the stairs that now served as a slide and to the outside.

Although the town operated together at the same pace, when the two teenagers were together a whole new world was constructed. It was theirs alone, Encanto through their eyes, apart from the rest of the town.

“What are we up to today, amiga?” Camilo smiled at Ana.

Ana grabbed his wrist pulling Camilo towards the dirt trail that went through the forest. “To the river first, I wanna draw something!”

Camilo smiled as he was dragged into the woods. Once they finally slowed, Ana lost herself in the towering trees around them, the leaves' emerald color shone beautifully in the sunlight. Camilo loved seeing how happy nature would make her, he loved seeing everyone happy, but Ana was different. He wasn’t sure how though. He could listen to her talk about plants and the stars for hours, her drawings were beautiful, and he thought the stars on her glasses and skirt were adorable.

Once they made it to the river Camilo sat on a rock listening to the waterfall behind him as he watched his friend search for something new to sketch.

Ana scoured the plant-life behind the river, Encanto was a little well into spring, so she was bound to find something, that’s when it caught her eye. A beautiful orchid with a bold orange hue. Ana studied the flower then glanced over to the shapeshifter and thought how well the flowers would compliment his yellow ruana, maybe as earrings? Camilo sat next to Ana to see what had her curiosity. He breathed out a ‘wow’ at the flower’s sight.

“Do you know what it is?” He asked

Ana shook her head. “Mm-mm, ask Isabela for me?”

Ana picked the flower and settled it in the boy’s light brown curls, he felt a flutter in his chest.

“¡Aww que lindo!” She cooed. “You’re my muse for today.” Ana smiled nipping at her friend’s nose.

As Camilo tried to stay as still as possible he watched the artist’s focused expression, occasionally seeing her face when she looked up with slightly furrowed brows and soft lips pressed together.

I love her.

Camilo’s brain short circuited in disbelief of what he thought. They hung out everyday exploring Encanto, pranking his sister and cousins, they were best friends, only friends. Right? If that was the case why couldn’t he stop the hammering in his chest.

“Done!” She smiled, breaking Camilo from his spiraling thought.

He moved to Ana’s side to see what she had drawn, it was the rock Camilo sat on with the flower in his hair, but she had added him studying a chameleon that sat on the hand he raised to his eyes. Camilo wore a smile as wide as the river as he looked at the drawing.

“Ana, it's amazing,” He let out a light chuckle, “Could I er- keep it?” He stammered.

“Of course!” Ana smiled before ripping the page out and handing it to the shapeshifter.

Camilo noticed another sketch on the back and turned the paper over. It was a bust of him wearing two of the flowers as earrings.

“Oh, yeah, I thought they would look good on you.” Camilo hummed, too flustered to respond, before helping Ana up.

After dusting the dirt off their clothes, the two headed back to Casita to hang out in Camilo’s room. They chatted on his bed for a while about his family, laughing about how abuela still isn’t used to Antonio’s animal friends and mocking Dolores and Mariano’s lovey dovey relationship. Well into the afternoon Camilo braided Ana’s hair; the bag holding her sketchbook caught his attention.

“Did you draw any constellations last night?” He asked.

“Oh!” She exclaimed.

Casita used the floorboards to move the bag towards Ana then bounced it up to her. She flipped through to the pages that were marked for the previous night and showed one to Camilo.

“The Ursa Major,” She turned to him with a bright smile. “Right here is the body, then the legs, and the tail. I have the other copies on my wall already.”

“Woah!” Camilo responded, studying the drawing.

Ana noticed the time on Camilo’s clock, her parents would almost be home.

“I have to be home soon but I can show you the real deal through my telescope tonight if you want?”

Camilo nodded. “Yeah, totally, it’s been a while since we stargazed!”

After grabbing her things Ana turned to leave before reminding Camilo.

“Don’t forget to ask Isabela about that flower!” she shouted before leaving.

Before Ana reached the front door Julieta called out from the kitchen. “Not staying for dinner, mija?”

The aroma of Julieta’s famous arepas were intoxicating, but Ana needed to go.

“I’m sorry, señora, but I need to get home.” she frowned slightly.

As her hand touched the doorknob Ana turned back to the Madrigal cook. “Can I take one for the road?”

Julieta smiled and tossed an arepa to the girl. It was still warm as Ana bit into it and hurried out of Casita. She was able to arrive home in time.