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ladykissingfish · 3 years

Text

so one of you requested this in my inbox, and you used your actual name. you put some personal stuff in your ask that I wasn’t sure you’d want to be made public, so I’m not going to put your name here. but here’s what you asked; I hope this is what you meant 😊

The Akatsuki’s Reaction to A Break-Up

Itachi

Unfortunately, Itachi’s self-esteem is already so low that a break-up for him is something that he prepared himself for more than the relationship itself. He’s the type to vocalize his desire to stay friends with his ex, even if that person doesn’t want the same thing. The first few days after the breakup will be the most difficult for him, but his behavior will be so subtle that the others will barely notice. The most striking and tell-tale sign that he’s going through it will be that this infamous insomniac will actually start sleeping more, even going so far as to take naps during the day. Itachi isn’t the type to seek out the comfort of friends when something like this is bothering him, instead choosing to keep his pain to himself and only briefly talking about it when asked. He’ll eventually pull himself out of his funk and go back to normal, although the scar on his heart prevents him from seeking out another relationship for a long, long time.

Zetsu

Doesn’t take relationships seriously to begin with; if anything, he’s with the other person simply to alleviate boredom/have a good time. When the other person breaks up with him, there aren’t any hard feelings involved on his part, and he bounces back almost as if nothing had happened at all. He’s always been the type to treat his lovers more like friends, and that dynamic will likely continue even after the romantic part has died.

Hidan

Is most likely to be the one to initiate a break-up rather than be broken up with himself. Hidan’s religion doesn’t offer much (if any) room for love and attachment to anything other than Lord Jashin, and being with someone will weigh heavily on Hidan’s mind until he decides to end things. Part of this is actually a sort kindness; he recognizes that to an outsider, his religion can be viewed as disturbing and macabre, and he doesn’t want to drag somebody else into his hectic (and violent) lifestyle. But despite the romantic relationship being over, Hidan isn’t above contacting the other person every now and then for a casual, no strings attached encounter.

Kakuzu

Another one who will be more likely to initiate the break-up then the alternative. There will never be a time in the old guy’s life where money isn’t the bottom line for him, and being with someone else is no exception to that rule. Dates, gifts, time spent with the other that takes away time that could be used to hunt bounties … all of that is costing him. He’ll be as kind as possible to the other person when breaking up with them, but the message is pretty clear. He’ll likely feel mild pangs of regret for several days after the end of the relationship, but in the end he’ll shake it off and carry on with business as usual.

Obito

Oh, God. Obito is someone who feels things very deeply, and being in love with someone is a head rush for him. Obito would never leave someone, no matter how they treated him. Others will recognize this in him and some will take advantage of his sweet and giving nature. When he’s broken up with, he’s absolutely devastated. He won’t leave the house/his room for days, he’ll stop bathing, he’ll barely eat and the things he does eat is mostly junk food or candy … it takes several members of the Akatsuki to rally around him to pull him out of his depression. Konan will be there to comfort and nurture him, Deidara will be there to offer a kind of “suck it up”/tough love approach, and Itachi will offer him empathy (the Uchiha clan is revered for many things, one of the highest among them being their capacity to feel and experience love, so Itachi will be the only one who knows EXACTLY how Obito feels). It’ll take a few weeks, but eventually Obito will go back to the way he always was, much to everyone’s relief.

Kisame

One will always know when Kisame has been broken up with, when he announces he’s going on a trip. He’ll pack a suitcase and take off for an indefinite amount of time. He does this because he needs to clear his head after his heartbreak, and he never wants to burden the others with his pain or his emotions. While he’s gone he won’t really keep in contact with anyone except Itachi, who will call him every day to check up on him. He uses his time alone to sleep, to cry, and, once the initial hurt fades, to wear himself out. Hiking, skiing, mountain climbing, jogging … anything that gets him sweating and his adrenaline pumping is something that he seeks out, in order to distract his mind. He’ll eventually return home renewed and ready to go on, and the others are always happy to see him back.

Nagato

Is a bit like Itachi in that he expects a breakup from the very start, and is so prepared for it that he doesn’t quite feel the impact as strongly as he could. Life is pain, as he likes to tell people, and losing a love is a part of that pain. Doesn’t change his habits any and nobody would even know he’s suffering in any way … except for Konan, who knows him better than anybody. She’ll sit with him and get him to open up about what and how he feels. Konan has always been the only living person in the world that Nagato had cried in front of, and there’s no exception to this rule now. He’ll cry, Konan will hold him, and after awhile the two will spend time watching movies or tv, and slowly easing Nagato into a better headspace.

Konan

Konan is an eraser. When she’s broken up with, or she ends a relationship herself, she wants to forget any sign that the person ever existed. That means throwing out love letters or drawings, that means deleting the person’s contact information from all of her devises. It means getting rid of pictures, it means no more watching shows that she watched with the other person, or going to places they once went to. Her only goal is to stave off hurt by pretending that the other person never existed … although this doesn’t last for very long. After she’s calmed down a bit, she can reach out to the other person and get whatever closure she needs, in order to move on. Konan is also a comfort eater when she’s sad, and will break her diet to indulge in any and every decadent treat imaginable. And she won’t be alone; every single other member of the house will be with her at some point, whether to comfort, or cry, or eat, or trash-talk her now-ex.

Deidara

Deidara is the guy who initially can’t accept a breakup. He assumes the other person is just mad at him for something he’s done, and that their break-up really isn’t an ending at all, but a “short break”. Will send the other person countless messages, flowers, teddy bears, and candy, to try and get back in their good graces. When it finally sinks in that it’s permanent, he’s quite upset about it. He goes over and over in his head all the things that he felt he did wrong, or ways that he just wasn’t good enough. Will call his ex and ask for reasons as to why their relationship didn’t work out, and keep those things in his head, to improve on for his next relationship. Is also the type to make drastic changes to his appearance after a breakup, like dying or cutting his hair, or making changes to his wardrobe. Has to be talked out of his more impetuous urges, like getting a tattoo, by Sasori or Konan.

Sasori

Sasori will be the one broken up with. Not because he treated his partner in anyway bad. In fact, it would be quite the opposite; Sasori would have been uncharacteristically kind, loving and attentive. Always asking his partner how they feel, inquiring about their day, etc. But after awhile, Sasori’s partner will have begun to notice certain … things. Like Sasori constantly touching their face and commenting on his smooth their skin is. Being really pushy when it comes to healthy eating because “it makes your body last longer”. And there will have been quite a few times when Sasori’s partner will wake up in the middle of the night and find Sasori sitting in a chair by the bed, staring intently at them in the dark. The person will eventually decide to leave Sasori, because they start to get the ((sadly correct)) suspicion that Sasori had been making plans to turn them into one of his puppets. Sasori will take the breakup with dignity, but silently lament the fact that more people don’t understand his way of thinking. After all, if you care for someone, why wouldn’t you want that person to last forever?

#the akatsuki #break up #deidara #sasori #hidan #kakuzu #zetsu #obito uchiha #itachi uchiha #kisame #konan #nagato #headcanons

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cloud9in · 3 years

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You’re the only one who’s writing poppy x mc fics sooo, i have a request “ bea is a bad girl (like in a gang) in high school and also went jail couple of times for getting in trouble in high school senior year poppy was new transfer student and after 2 months bea join back school and met poppy bea and they just click yk like a connection slowly they started dating and in school everyone was shocked to see bea in a relationship ( bad girl and new girl) poppy is always worried about bea and few days before graduation bea got hurt really bad and poppy gives bea 2 options that she has to choose between her or her this (gang).. bea didn’t say anything to her so poppy left, after 2/3 years they met in college bea was a different person but so does poppy they become enemies (no one knows why they hate each other) one day they were arguing and poppy shout at her and says why you're back and bea put her hand on her cheek and smile and say i am here to win you back because i love you 😬

Promises (Poppy x MC)

Part 1/?

Can i just say I'm absolutely invested in this plot? You've got me hooked on my own story, as hectic as my life is, this is enjoyable to write. I hope you like it as well @iamsimpforpoppy

Word count: 1.8k (i got carried away)

“You know what to do Jackson, same old shit.”

“Yeah but it feels like a movie every damn time”, Bea responds confidently as she unbuckles her seatbelt. She sports a black mask with a yellow bandana, a vivacious color worn by only the Southside Spades, a notorious street gang who were known for robbery, and occasional blood.

Bea found herself wrapped up in the world of gangs when she turned sixteen. But before that the brunette would assist in transporting goods, also known as hardcore drugs. There was plenty enough to go around so Bea could indulge in any she wanted. Drugs didn’t give her the high she craved though, instead it was the thrilling game of cat and mouse with the cops.

Every now and then she’d get thrown in the slammer overnight. But this particular evening earns her one year in the NY State Penitentiary. See, the cops never gathered significant evidence to build a case against her, even though she was well aware of Detective Steinhelm who had some sick obsession with her. Following her everywhere, until Bea confronted her directly after noticing the same black sedan parked a street down from her house.

But she played the game right, and nothing ever led back to her. Until now.

“Where’s the money Bradley? I feel like I’ve been kissing your ass all week, the boss needs it now.”

A skinny blonde boy who looks like he had better days grunts in annoyance, “You’ll get your money...I’m just a little short right now.”

“Time’s up Ken doll, you know Carter will have your head for this.”

“Maybe he doesn’t have to know. Maybe this can be between us…”, Bradley strides carefully towards the blonde, a disturbing grin on his face which screams junkie. “Back the hell up now.”

Bea pulled her knife out with ease and pointed it towards him. She didn’t plan on actually using it. Murder was way out her budget for a simple money pickup but she knew that it would scare the boy easily. Except he kicked the blade out of her hold which prompted it to screech across the concrete before coming to a stop. Before Bea could think her fists reacted as she intercepted a punch that aimed straight for her jaw. She twists Bradley’s arm and he falls on his knees in pain. With his back to her, she kicks him down until he’s flat on his stomach.

“What is it exactly that you plan on doing now Bradley?” The blonde boy struggles under Bea’s foot but manages to reach around and slash at her ankle with a surprise shiv. Bea yelps in pain before kicking his head, rendering him unconscious.

“Stupid idiot. Had to make this harder than it should’ve been.”

Bea eventually finds the stash of money hidden under his mattress, an amateur hiding place at best. She congratulated herself for another job accomplished (kinda) and headed home. What the seventeen year old didn’t expect was the repulsive sound of a siren filling her ears as she stepped out onto her driveway. Her blood rushed to her head when she spotted Detective Steinhelm among the police officers surrounding her and retorts, “oh come on. I thought I told them about you harassing me. What do you want? Back here to strip search me again?”

The older woman only watches the blonde in eerie silence before smiling and gesturing to a police officer. “Beatriz Jackson you have the right to remain silent, anything you say or do can be used against you in a court of law-”

“What the actual fuck!” Bea yanks her arms out of the officers reach which initiates a struggle for dominance. This was nothing new to her, but it still felt sickening. Like she was some pet.

“You have the right to have a lawyer present during any questioning. If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be appointed for you if you so desire.” Detective Steinhelm finishes speaking and approaches the still scuffling blonde, “if you keep resisting I will tase you myself.”

Bea bites back the urge to headbutt the old hag right in her stupid face but she didn’t need any extra charges, for whatever the hell it was she was being charged for.

“Tell me why the fuck I am being arrested and I’ll calm down.”

That’s when Bea notices a familiar (bruised up) face from earlier. His smirk was enough to eat at her skin and she felt burning hot rage.

“Your blood was found at the scene of Mr. Denbroughs assault. You are being arrested in the case of second degree assault with intent to hurt someone with a deadly weapon.”

***

Bea only got one year in prison due to her kickass lawyer Ina Kingsley who played the minor card at every opportunity given. She also pointed out the fact that the knife wasn’t bloodstained, and Bradley never had any stab wounds so there is no proof the weapon was ever used against him. And it technically wasn’t. Good thing she didn’t bring a gun instead.

She did miss her 18th birthday though. And a few months of her senior year. But that’s what summer classes were for right?

All eyes were on the blonde when she returned, and whispers spread throughout the school about a certain new girl. Bea paid no mind to the fingers that pointed in her direction but the newcomer did manage to catch her attention, and pretty quick at that.

“Hey Jackson, how was solitary confinement?”

“I heard they make you use the bathroom right through the tiny food slot.”

Bea rolls her eyes and pelts a piece of not-so-fresh bread right at Ford’s head. The other people at the table join in on the laughter and Bea shakes her head and smiles, “it was Juvie you dumbass, and they made us sit in a circle together every Thursday like we were in an AA meeting.

“That’s jail for babies, goldilocks here wouldn’t last a minute in a real prison”, Carter joins them at the table with a cocky smirk, yet his eyes soften when landing on Bea. She shares a similar look with him knowing they’ll have a real conversation later. Because they definitely didn’t get to have that when Bea was getting dragged away to the police station in cuffs, and every event after that.

“It’s our girl’s first day out, we have to celebrate. And it’s not like she’s on probation...right Bea?”

“I do have a curfew, and I’m on juvenile probation so…when we partying?” The crew laughs as Bea shrugs. Her mother will deal with it. Zoey scoots in next to the blonde and wraps her arm around her shoulder in a side hug. “So glad to have you back Bea, and we are not risking you breaking parole so let’s just go to a sport’s bar tonight.”

Bea nods her head in agreement as the first warning bell goes off and everyone starts to clean up. Zoey taps on her arm and points towards one of the farther tables where a lone figure sits, wiping her hands with a napkin. All Bea saw were blonde tresses until she turned and they made brief eye contact.

“She’s the new girl, Poppy Min Sinclair. Rumor is she’s got a rich white daddy. You should totally invite her to the party.”

“And why would I do that?”

Zoey squints her eyes and leans in closer, her hands under chin in thought, “she seems like the broody type, you two would click.” She laughs at Bea’s comical expression but the blonde can’t bother to look in her direction, she’s way too wrapped up in what little the stranger a few tables away had to offer. She would sit on that thought, Bea was not one to shy away from anything.

***

The two became friends quicker than anyone could think.

One day after school, Poppy’s car wouldn’t start. It just didn’t comply. You would think she’d be poised and call her mechanic to come fix it, but instead the blonde slumped against the driver’s side window and let out a visibly frustrated, high-pitched yelp. Bea watched her pace around the car and even...kick?...the front bumper with her heels in efforts to wake it up.

“You know I may be wrong but I think that only makes it worse..” She approaches the helpless blonde with a small grin. Poppy’s persistence amazed her though, she’s never seen anyone determined to beat a car up. An expensive one at that.

“I hope you have some idea how to fix it, unless you’re here to waste my time and ask me on a date.”

Woah.

Okay that definitely threw Bea on a whim. She lets out a sharp laugh and bites her lips in amusement. She strolls towards the front of her car, holding Poppy’s gaze the whole way. She liked that the blonde didn’t avert her eyes. “And if I did? We couldn’t take your car of course, it’s obviously impaired.”

Poppy smiles and turns to look at Bea properly. She checks out every inch of her with no visible shame. An assessment so to say, and she likes what she sees.

“It’s your lucky day Poppy, I happen to know a thing or three about cars, and I desperately want to get this thing working so we can go on that date.” She winks playfully but god does she mean it. Bea silently prayed that the blonde wouldn’t take it the wrong way, but she knew she won when Poppy didn't protest, instead getting comfortable under some shade and holding her hand out, “the stage is all yours Jackson.”

***

“So what you’re trying to tell me is that I can’t jump over this obvious not-so-protected fence?”

“Judging by the sign right next to it that says...oh wow who would’ve thought, “DO NOT ENTER”, I don’t think so”, Poppy deadpans. It didn’t phase Bea of course because she was already halfway up the fence when the blonde turned away from the sign. The girl had a point to prove, maybe not a valid one, but still a point.

Poppy pinches her eyebrows in exasperation before looking back up to a nonchalant Bea swinging her legs from the top of the fence. She winks down at the blonde, “join me?”

Poppy didn’t expect to be climbing fences with a charismatic girl who had the same color hair as her when she moved schools, but she found herself embracing every moment of it. Although the trip up there was a struggle and some.

“I swear to god there’s a wire in my ass.”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“And we’re both going to end up in the hospital. Get. me. Down.”

Bea tries to hold in her laughter the whole way down but lets it loose when she sees Poppy still up there, partly hovering in the air. “Pops...I’ll catch you, don't worry. Climb down slowly.” She doesn’t. But Bea had her feet planted and ready because any moment with the sassy blonde was unpredictable. And she loved it. Especially because she had Poppy engulfed in her arms and they were so close their noses touched.

Bea promised herself she’d kiss the girl next time.

***

“You’re...in a gang?”

Bea felt a clasp of cold air enter her lungs as she stared ahead. It wasn’t like she could hide it from Poppy. She has a reputation, and word has gotten around about the two getting close. This was just like that one time at the end of sophomore year where Bea met Kelly Hall, a beautiful girl with golden rimmed glasses. Unfortunately she only could imagine what could’ve been after whispers ended up right on the doorstep of Kelly’s parents, and she suddenly changed her number, and switched out of every class she had with Bea.

The blonde didn’t want to entertain the thought of Poppy doing the same, but this was a lifestyle she chose.

“I mean...how?”

Bea sighs and turns to look at her, “I fell into the wrong crowd. Or maybe it’s the right one because I never found a true home until I met them. They’re family, I wouldn’t expect you to get it though and I understand if you want to distance-”

“I of all people know what it’s like to not fit in Jackson. You’ve found people who make you feel safe. Maybe I don’t agree with the troubles that come with being in a gang but I don’t know the whole story.”

“Do you want to?”

Poppy wraps her arms around Bea’s and lays her head on her shoulder, “I want to know that you won’t get yourself hurt but I know that’s nearly impossible.”

Bea exhales slowly, not knowing what to say. She knew that this would upset Poppy but her acceptance meant more. She didn’t know what this would mean for the two of them, if there was a “them”, but she felt more encouraged to share more of her other life with the blonde.

“Just promise me one thing Jackson.”

“Yeah?”

Poppy’s voice comes out softer than expected, and Bea ingests every emotion that comes with it, “Promise me you won’t ever put yourself in a position where you have to choose between me or the gang.”

Bea finds her hand in the space where their thighs touched and latches onto it like a lifebuoy,

“I promise.”

***

“I just remembered something Poppy.”

“What, that you have half a brain cell? I thought that was established Jackson.”

Bea launches a pillow that (purposely) misses Poppy’s head by an inch. If she actually hit her and frizzed up her locks then she’d never hear, or see..or walk again.

“I’m being serious. I just remembered this too, we never went on that car date we talked about.”

Poppy squints her eyes in confusion, but was fully aware of what Bea was referring to. “You mean the first time we met?”

The blonde smiles to herself as she replayed that day in her head over and over again. She couldn’t decide if Bea’s openly flirty behavior is what drew her in or if it was her ability to fix any of her possessions with ease. And for free.

Bea pulls Poppy up by her hands until her back is against the lockers. Another perfect opportunity for the blonde to make do of that promise she made to herself, but something told her to wait just a bit longer. “So what do you say? Poppy Min Sinclair, will you go on a date with me?”

Poppy rolls her eyes playfully, pulling Bea in closer by the collar of her letterman, “now who’s being dramatic?”

“I didn’t hear a no”

“I think you know what the answer is.”

That night Zoey helped Bea prep for her first date with the girl that she could say she was almost in love with. The taller girl brushed some dust off of Bea’s jacket and planted her hands on her shoulders, “remember Jackson, give her the ride of her life. And I mean that in every way possible.”

Thanks Zoe.

Bea watched Poppy drive up in front of her house and something inside her mind couldn’t deny the pang her heart let out when she saw Poppy smile the way she did.

Bea took control of the driving and told Poppy to recline her seat and enjoy the ride, with her seatbelt on of course. Safe sacrifices. They cruised through an empty highway blasting Poppy’s spotify playlist named “Rich Bitch Songs” because that was their ideal perfect date. It’s amazing that the two could even come to an agreement, but here we are.

She watched the beautiful blonde sing her lungs out and couldn’t help but mirror her joy, taking her hands off the steering wheel. The pump of adrenaline prompts a new excitement in the air and Poppy wraps Bea into a secure hug, her hair flying wildly with the wind. Bea slows the car down but the rapid beating of her heart made it seem they were going 100 miles per second.

“I feel so alive Jackson.”

Bea stared at the girl in the passenger seat with a look that could only be described as love.

“You make me feel alive.”

Poppy kept talking and Bea found a way to focus on both the road and the blonde next to her. Because when you truly enjoy something, you’ll find a way to keep experiencing it. And Bea enjoyed hearing Poppy’s voice, she loved everything about her.

“I feel like kissing you.”

“Then what’s stopping you?”

“...Nothing. I should’ve done this a long time ago.”

They kiss when Bea pulls over. A hot feeling consumes them like fire when their tongues collide and Bea plants her hands around Poppy’s hips, pushing her back into her seat until she’s on top. The windows easily start to fog up in reaction to the heat, and not once did they take their hands off each other.

Promise 1/2 kept

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End Note: This chapter was to build their relationship, more angst incoming. BIG THANKS to @somewillwin for letting me use Jackson <3333

Taglist: @samanthadalton @somewillwin @clowneryme @baexpoppy @poppysmc @doey-eyes8 @veenast @straightlikewetspaghetti @phoennixxsblog @a-ghost-girl

#poppy min sinclair #queen b #playchoices #mc x poppy #a huge bug flew onto my screen during the writing process #gave me motivation to HURRY MY AAAAAAASSS UP

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thoughtfullyyoungduck · 3 years

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can you do a teen losers club x reader on how they comfort the reader during a depressive stage

A/N: Sorry it took so long! I hope you still enjoy! I just want to stress that all the headcanons I wrote here are based on my own experiences with depression. I know everyone experiences this differently, so please know I’m not trying to invalided anyone!

Warning: mentions of depression

- It’s difficult to predict when a depressive episode of yours will be occurring

- There are no outward signs, as you are very good at pretending everything is fine.

- Inwards though, your mood starts the deteriorating and the smile you have to conjure up your face every time you hang out deters the closer you get to an actual depressive episode.

- The only sign that is noticeable to the losers, is that you’re a lot more irritable.

- That’s a hard symptom to spot though, because their group is so diverse and it happens from time to time that someone does something that rubs the other the wrong way.

- You’re always very patient with everyone, even Richie’s overachieving and at times insensitive jokes, but right before an episode, you’ll at best ignore them, and at worst beep him.

- But again, sometimes little fights break out among the group, so it’s not that unusual

- They’ll know that a depressive episode has started when you cancel without a reason.

- You would never pass an opportunity to bike around town with your friends otherwise, but during the first few days of your depressive episode (when you feel at your lowest because of the impending days of hell waiting for you), you prefer to be by yourself.

- The only way you communicate is by calling them to cancel the plans, and then you crawl back in your bed.

- The losers at first leave you too (they found out from experience that you hate to be coddled and Gavin the vicinity of other people

- Of course this saddens the losers, because they want nothing more but to go over to your place and comfort you to the best of their abilities, but they understand you need some alone time.

- They do call regularly. They can’t stop themselves from at least doing that.

- After about two days, they’ll start hanging out at your house.

- Most of the time they’ll talk amongst each other or watch a movie while they cuddle with you.

- Never forcing you to talk of anything, because they respect that you can’t conjure up enough energy to do that.

- Side note; the losers all have various experiences with depression.

- Some may not have (had) it, but they have seen someone near them that was suffering from it.

- So they try to encourage you through what they believe is the best option, and how they would have liked to be cheered up.

- I think Eddie would be a bit of a hard ass.

- Not that he’s unsympathetic to what you’re dealing with, but he’s a health freak, and he read that excercing can help with overcoming a depressive episode.

- Which is true, but going to school and getting you work done is hard enough without getting yourself out of bed and into work out gear.

- So he really tries to convince you to do yoga with him, as your form of sport. (It leads to Richie’s big gay crises, and it draws a laugh out of you for the very first time since you have been feeling dragged down)

- Sometimes you can persuade yourself into getting up (it really depends on the day) and then you feel elated that you managed to do something, but others days you refuse to move, and Eddie’s insistence only leads to insecurity and you labeling yourself as Lazy.

- But you know Eddie means no harm by it, so you appreciate his efforts.

- Bev does things a little different.

- She’s very intuitive to people’s mood, so when she comes up with a plan to help you, and she sees you’re not up for it, she’ll postpone.

- She manipulates your kindness and generosity towards others and turns it around to you.

- Showering and keeping yourself clean, though it’s advice to do in order to get better, can be so hard to do, so she instead asks if you can help her with for example: braiding her hair

- No matter how bad you feel, you’ll always be there for your friends, so you say yes.

- You’ll braid her hair or paint her nails, or give your opinion about a clothing item, and in turn, Bev will do the same for you.

- It’s not much, but, having your hair combed, or changing clothes sometimes can make a world of difference.

- Richie and Stan will aid with doing every day chores, like homework or doing the dishes or something.

- Of course Richie also cracks jokes and tries his impression on you to make you laugh, but he’s also really smart and can do his homework without ever paying attention in class.

- So he and Stan take some of the workload of off you, so you can focus primarily on your mental health.

- Ben helps by talking to you. You’re not always up for a talk, because it’s hard to formulate the mess in your head, but if you do, Ben is always the person to go to.

- He won’t try to find a solution, but he’ll just be there to listen to you

- Mike bakes a lot of goodies for you to munch on.

- You’re supposed to eat healthy food, but Mike chooses baked goods that are both healthy and tasty, and sometimes a little indulgent.

- Freshman year in high school Mike got a dog from his grandfather, and he’ll take him with him to your house from time to time, so you can snuggle with the cute little thing.

- Finally, Bill writes you stories about going on far away travels, with you and the losers as the main characters.

- You like to read them because they help you escape your current situation, and also because the stories are a kind of promise, that your feelings will end and that one day you’ll be able to go anywhere you want with all your friends by your side.

- It takes a while, but eventually the efforts of the losers come to bloom.

- You appreciate everything the losers do for you, and you hope they know that you would do the same thing for them.

#richie tozier x reader #eddie kaspbrak x reader #bill denbrough x reader #stanley uris x reader #ben hanscom x reader #beverly march x reader #mike hanlon x reader #my writing #the losers club imagines #it imagines

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join-the-joywrite · 4 years

Text

and I don't want to (but I love you)

@jatp-week Day 6: favourite trope

Not me doing a self-indulgent and stupidly long enemies to lovers au :>

Julie Molina didn't have enemies in her life. She had competitors, sure. Everyone did. But Sunset Curve took the whole cake. She didn't have enemies but Luke Patterson came dangerously close.

Luke Patterson, on the other hand, fully considered Julie Molina his number one enemy. He had zero qualms about saying that to her face and behind her back. He knew his band was the best but Julie had a real knack for knocking his ego down a bit and he hated her for it. Maybe he wouldn't get so riled up if she was nice about it or if not nice, she was less nasty and more stern. Honestly, it seemed like she took pleasure in criticizing Sunset Curve.

The rivalry between them extended to their bands and friend circles. Well, for the most part, anyway. Julie and Luke let Willie and Alex get away with their little forbidden lovers thing because they both thought the pair was cute together. It was pretty much the only thing they agreed on. Ever.

Willie only ever talked about Alex, not the band and Alex made sure to steer clear of mentioning Julie whenever he talked about Willie. The arrangement worked for all sides.

Julie and Luke's rivalry extended far beyond their music. It crept into their classes and had them fighting for the top spot. The teachers were thrilled. It meant Luke put in as much effort as he possibly could into every assignment or test. Even if it was out of pure spite, it was working.

And then, oh dear, and then there was a group project. Obviously, they split to opposite ends of the room with their friends to choose pairs (except Willie and Alex, who were shoved together and assured it was perfect) but apparently, it was important to learn how to work with people you dislike because in the workplace you might be forced to work with people you dislike -- or something like that.

Julie and Luke had never let their rivalry coerce them into doing stupid things -- except the one time where Carrie was convinced Luke could hold his breath longer and Julie almost drowned in the school pool to prove Carrie wrong -- but the moment they were paired up, Julie and Luke both wanted nothing more than to break several school rules, vandalism being the top one and starting violent fights being the second. It was unclear if they wanted to fight each other or their teacher.

Matters were made worse when their friends got to pair off together on their own terms while they were stuck with each other. The only thing keeping them from completely refusing to do any work was that they both were still competing for the highest scores.

Their friends had never been more entertained and the two opposing groups bonded over watching the two most stubborn people they knew suffer out a school project together. The clear awkwardness between them was hilarious and it was a pleasant thing to see them sitting at the same table and not trying to verbally murder each other. Bobby turned out to be the funniest person in the whole group. He had a meme-y caption for every moment they caught of Julie and Luke sitting near enough to have a normal conversation and the others loved it. He also seemed to be able to relate all the memes to the pair and was strangely good at photoshop, which earned him the Groupchat King title. (Julie and Luke were completely unaware of this groupchat excluding only them -- which, for the others' safety, was for the best.) Flynn's favourite was a photo of Julie with a feral look on her face, miming strangling a smug Luke. Me & 2020 was Bobby's winning caption. She wasn't sure which was which and that made it even better, in her opinion.

As the weeks passed, Julie and Luke's rivalry mellowed. As far as they said, it was still going strong but their actions told another story. There were playful nudges in the hallway, now. Teasing death glares across a classroom. Locked gazes and stifled giggles at inside jokes -- the fact that they even had those was surprising enough. They willingly shared a lunch table for the sole purpose of interrupting a mini date between Willie and Alex but most of it was spent in their own world anyway. Their mockery of each other had become gentler and more harmless teasing than anything.

And then one Tuesday, Luke didn't show up at school.

Of course, Luke's band knew exactly what was up, but they -- with support from Julie's friends -- decided it would be fun to play dumb and send Julie to Luke's house, just to check up on him, you know, despite the fact that the group project was long over and she really had no need to meddle further into Luke's life. The mere fact that Julie forgot she still had class and was seriously ready to leave immediately said a lot.

"I can promise you that it's really not as bad as it looks," Luke said from under several pillows, a puffy duvet and maybe three stuffed animals, "but there's no band practice today and I'm not coming to school tomorrow either so can one of you flick Julie's forehead for me? It's tradition."

"Band practice, huh?" Julie said, dropping her bag on the floor with a soft thud. "And here I thought you just had nothing more interesting going on in your life than disrupting mine."

Luke sat up fast enough that his head spun, his vision swam and two pillows fell off the bed. "Who told you where I live?"

"You did, dork. Here, I brought your homework and my dad's trying something out in the kitchen. He misread balf the recipe so it's the blandest thing I've ever tasted but if you're sick, it'll be good for you."

Luke responded to the bit that made sense. "I don't want bland food," he said, scrunching up his nose as Julie set a small stack of papers on the desk in the corner and walked up to him with a covered bowl.

"As if you'd know the difference. Your mom said you can't taste anything anyway."

"You talked to my mom?" Luke asked, looking mortified.

"Yeah, duh. What, did you think I climbed through your bedroom window? I don't care that much for you."

"Aww, I knew you cared for me."

Julie didn't respond to it. "So this is supposed to be a vegetable stew," she said, tapping the plastic wrap over the bowl, "but like I said, mistakes were made."

"Well, what is it then?" Luke asked, leaning over to peer at the bowl.

"I'd call it . . . semi-flavoured water with surprise veggies."

"Joy."

"I know, right? Anyway, I'll leave you to your . . . pillow fort? Cute stuffies. I have the same penguin."

Luke glanced at the penguin that was still secured in his arm. "Don't you dare tell your friends. Especially not Flynn. She's ruthless."

"She is not. But fine, only because you're sick. I'll be back for my bowl tomorrow and it better be empty."

Luke watched Julie leave with a look of amazement. As soon as he heard his front door close, footsteps pattered through the hallway, leading up to his mother sticking her head in his room. "I like her."

"I'm going back to sleep," Luke said, diving back into the safety of all his pillows, wondering if it was the fever or Julie that set his cheeks blazing.

Probably the fever.

"Good afternoon, dork. Reggie says you said you liked the semi-flavoured water and my dad felt very appreciated by that so he's made some actual stew for you to try. It's beef stew this time so please don't get surprised. Did you do yesterday's homework? You should, because I brought today's. How do you feel?"

Luke, who had been staring at Julie with his mouth slightly open in a perfect picture of surprise, blinked when he realised she'd stopped speaking. "Don't you knock?!"

"Your mom said you were asleep and I could just leave everything here for you but you were awake so. . ." Julie trailed off, shrugging.

"You . . . you are so strange."

Julie shrugged as she set the homework down on the desk and walked up to the nightstand to put the covered bowl down in Luke's reach. "You need to come back to school. I feel bad bullying your friends."

"I'm sure they'll be glad to hear that," Luke said sarcastically. He paused for a second. "Yeah, I did the homework. Most of it. My mom said it'll help to get out of bed and do something. I tried to play the guitar but she was adamant I didn't do that something."

Julie nodded and walked back to Luke's desk. She rifled through the mess and picked up all the homework. "I'll finish this essay for you," she said almost absently, searching among the pages. "Please tell me you did your science homework. I got a lot of that wrong and no one wants to give me the answers because apparently, I should learn my work."

"Uh . . . yeah. Um, yeah, I did the science. Wh-- what do you mean 'do the essay' for me?"

Julie looked up as she gathered everything into a pile of messy and uneven papers. "It's on the African American civil rights movement. It's factual and ninety percent of the class will have the same essay anyway so--"

"No. No, I mean . . . why?"

"Oh. Uh . . . why not?"

Luke didn't have a response, so he fell silent.

"Well, that's all of yesterday's homework. Get some rest and then make sure you eat. I can't have my favourite punching bag get too weak to take a hit."

As Julie turned and left his room, Luke felt the sudden urge to scream, so instead, he slammed his burning face into his favourite penguin. Yes, she had called him a punching bag, but she'd also called him her favourite.

"Music class just isn't the same without booing you. Also, Alex said you managed to keep the beef stew down yesterday so my dad thought you could try something a little heavier. This is an experimental chicken and fried rice . . . thing. I do not reccomend eating unless you're sure you're okay enough for a full meal. That said, I brought more beef stew in case you're not up for the chicken and rice."

"You can't just walk in unannounced!" Luke cried as Julie set down the two bowls on the nightstand.

"I can, actually," Julie said, flashing a set of keys at Luke.

Luke's jaw dropped when he recognized the keychains. "Hey, those are mine!"

"Wow, so observant. Your mom gave it to me before I left yesterday because your dad is at work and she needed to go out today and with you holed up in here, there wouldn't be anyone to open for me."

Luke frowned. "Oh, yeah, she said something like that but I was half-asleep."

Julie was pleasantly surprised to find Luke's homework neatly gathered at the corner of the desk. It didn't escape her how Luke seemed to glow with pride when she commented on it. She had to fight a smile as she dropped Luke's homework into her bag.

"Get some rest, dork. If you need anything, don't hesitate to call someone from Sunset Swerve. I'll be busy."

"It's Sunset CURVE and you know it."

"Really? I never noticed."

Luke pouted. "Tuxedo Sam says you're being very mean right now. I'm sick and I deserve care."

"Well, you can tell your stupid penguin that Skipper will beat his ass."

"You named your penguin after the penguins from Madagascar?"

"You call yours Tuxedo Sam."

"Yeah, okay, that's fair."

Julie rolled her eyes and turned to leave. "Take a nap, Moody McSleeveless."

Luke glanced at the penguin laying nearby as he heard Julie lock up the house again. "Don't look at me like that, she's mean all the time."

"I BROUGHT CAKE!"

Luke scrambled up, launching Tuxedo Sam off the bed. "Who died?"

"No one died," Julie said, picking up the penguin as she walked up to Luke's bed. "It's Friday and since you're doing a little better, I thought you could do with a small treat. Tuxedo Sam agrees."

"Give me back my penguin," Luke said, reaching both arms out to Julie.

"Did you do yesterday's homework?"

"Yes."

"Did you really eat both bowls of food yesterday?"

"Yes."

"And keep it down?"

"Yes, ma'am, now can I please have my penguin back?"

Julie passed Luke the stuffed animal. "You're adorable," she blurted, turning away immediately to hide her own stunned look. She cleared her throat as she headed to the desk to grab Luke's homework. "So, that group project? We got a ninety-five."

That distracted Luke easily enough. "What happened to the other five?!"

"We're very bad at teamwork," Julie said, glancing back at Luke over her shoulder to see him relax against the pillows.

"Ah. That . . . makes sense."

Julie nodded. "Mhm."

The silence that blanketed the room wasn't as awkward as it should have been.

"I have to go. Most of the teachers said it would be okay to get your homework on Monday, but Mr Hughes is on my tail about your chemistry paper. My dad is making cupcakes tonight for some reason and I told Willie he could have some, so I'll send extra with him to give to Alex to give to you, but enjoy that crappy store cake for now. I left proper lunch with your mom for when you feel like it."

It didn't register that the only reason Mr Hughes would be harassing Julie about Luke's homework was if Julie herself had taken responsibility for Luke. Well, it did register, but by then, Julie was long gone and the only response Luke could muster was a muffled scream into poor Tuxedo Sam.

"Oh, ew, gross. Luke, it smells like the middle school locker room in here. What were you doing?"

Luke had never looked more sheepish in his life as he pointed to the canister on his nightstand -- right next to his alarm clock. "My phone went off about an hour ago and I thought it was the alarm so I did the smart thing and slammed it down but I missed. Obviously."

Holding her nose, Julie dropped everything she was carrying on Luke's table and tore the curtains open, pushing the windows as far as they could go. She stood there for a moment, relishing in the fresh air. "I'll come back inside when I can breathe," Julie said, halfway out the window.

Luke wanted to melt into his pillows. A week later and he was only feeling slightly better. The pros of it was that Julie visited every day with something tasty and a level of snark that only amused him. The cons of it was that Julie visited every day and left him flustered and red in the face.

He firmly believed that Julie only came by every day because she had homework to drop off, but today was Saturday. There was no more homework to drop off.

And she could have just backtracked right out the door again but instead, she headed for the windows on the other side of his room. Why?

Because she's taking care of you, dork.

Luke couldn't help but think that the logical voice in his head sounded suspiciously like Julie.

"Hey, my parents have some stupid couple's yoga thing on Saturdays. Did you break in?"

Julie pulled the windows halfway closed and stepped back into the room. "No, I still have your keys. Your dad tried to give me the spare key to the front door but your mom said it'll be fine if I kept yours until you're back on your feet."

"Wow. She really trusts you, huh?"

Julie shrugged. "I'm a very trustworthy person."

"No, you're not. I saw you lose a pen that you stuck behind your ear and then you proceeded to lose three more by tucking them behind your other ear and in your pockets. You then tried to steal mine."

"I was fourteen," Julie said defensively.

"It happened last week!"

"I felt fourteen."

Luke gave Julie a deadpan look.

"Cute pyjamas."

"I know, right? Bobby got us matching ones when we were like fifteen for band bonding. I mean, I grew out of the pants but the shirt still fits."

Julie scoffed as she stared at the dark haired cartoon smiling at her from the pink shirt. "Looks really good on you, Skip."

"Hey, I like being Skipper. She's Barbie's most intelligent sister."

"Oh, yeah?" Luke didn't even notice that Julie had made herself comfortable at the foot of his bed. "And if you're Skipper, who are the others?"

"Bobby is Chelsea, 'cause he's the youngest of us, Alex is Barbie, 'cause his summer jobs have been everywhere, and Reg is Stacie, 'cause she's Bobby's favourite and Bobby's favourite bandmate is Reg."

Julie's head tilted slightly. "You sound drunk."

"The bottle said one teaspoon of cough syrup but I didn't read and I took two tablespoons. It's okay, though. Mom panicked and called the doctor and he says the cough syrup he gave me is for kids and I'm just really, really, really intolerant. Which you should remember for me because I plan to be super famous with the band and there are gonna be a lot of after parties and I don't wanna get drunk five minutes in. I think the cough syrup is kicking in."

"Luke Patterson, you are unbelievable."

"I know, right?" He attempted a winning smile, but it came off as plain childlike.

Julie chastised herself for finding him adorable. They were mortal enemies and she had to remember that. Then what are you doing in his room on a Saturday, after explicitly telling the rest of his band to stay away?

Julie found it unnerving how much the voice in her head sounded like a teasing Luke.

"You're like, really annoying."

Julie frowned. "I -- I'm sorry?"

"You should be." Luke was sitting cross-legged now, fiddling with the ears of a stuffed bunny. "It's really messing with my head."

Julie decided she liked tipsy Luke -- even if it was just cough syrup. "How so?"

"No, it's nothing."

"You can tell me, Luke. I promised not to tell anyone about your stuffed animals and I kept it, right?"

"Yeah, but this time the secret about you. You're not allowed to know."

Curiosity more than anything made Julie lean forward slightly. "It'll be our secret."

"Okay, but you have to promise not to talk about it."

Julie nodded quickly. Luke tugged at the bunny's ears for a moment.

"You're like . . . really pretty."

Julie couldn't help the soft laugh that bubbled out of her. Adorable, she thought.

"Like, a lot of pretty. You're pretty on the inside, too."

"On the inside?"

"Yeah. On the inside. You know, your heart."

"M-my heart?"

Luke nodded at his stuffed rabbit. "Yeah. You have a really pretty heart. It beats like a drum. Making music. Like you."

Julie's mouth hung open, surprise silencing her.

"You have the prettiest music in you. I can hear it like -- like a song that gets stuck in my head all day. It's really annoying but it's so pretty. It smells like flowers and it looks like butterflies."

At this point, Julie didn't think she'd be able to speak, even if she knew what to say. Luke was talking to the stuffed animal, frowning as he struggled to voice his thoughts understandably.

"Sometimes it's just so loud and I wanna cover my ears and run away but it just gets louder and louder and then you come over and you're saying something mean but the music is there and it's not so loud anymore but I still can't hear anything else. Your heart sounds like a ballad."

Julie was frozen to her seat at the edge of the bed. Part of her wondered if it was Luke talking or the fever. Part of her desperately hoped it was Luke.

"Julie, you are music."

It was a simple sentence. Anyone could have said it. It could mean a lot or it could mean nothing at all. If anyone else had said it to her, she would have taken it as the highest form of a compliment. But that wasn't what Luke was saying.

Everyone knew that Luke spoke best through lyrics and chords. His books and desks were covered in etched notes and scribbled words. Luke lived and breathed music. It was everything to him. Without it, Luke didn't know who he was.

And he compared it to Julie.

Julie stared at the text on her phone. She bit her lower lip, unsure of what to say in response.

Mom said you visited yesterday. I was dazed for most of it. I didn't say anything stupid or incriminating, right? Not that anything could be more incriminating than the three stuffed animals on my bed.

Ten minutes after that, another had come through. Jules, are you ignoring me? Did I do something?

Then another five minutes later. This is still Julie Molina's number, right?

Julie quickly typed out something before she chickened out again and tossed her phone to the foot of her bed once it was sent.

Hey. Got busy in the kitchen with dad. No, you're good. See you at school tomorrow?

Julie scrambled for her phone to send one last word.

A few streets away, Luke stared at the word 'dork'. He was sure he had said something. He vaguely remembered yapping on about music to Julie -- duh, what else did they share? -- and then suddenly, she wasn't there anymore. He wondered if he'd fallen asleep talking and Julie had left then or if he really had said something to make her leave.

Yeah, he wrote back, see you at school.

Luke cornered Julie as soon as he caught sight of her in the school hallway. "You've been ignoring me and I don't like that."

Julie squeaked. "I most definitely am not ignoring you."

"Julie, you're pretty much the only person in this school that doesn't keep their phone on mute or vibrate. I know you heard my texts yesterday."

"So what if I am?" Julie asked, folding her arms. "We're not friends, so why should you care if I reply to your texts or not? In fact, why were you even messaging me in the first place?"

While Luke fumbled for a response, Julie slipped past him and continued on her way to class.

"Oh, that is just rude!" Luke yelled after Julie.

She ignored him all through any classes they shared and when lunch rolled around, she made sure to sit with Carrie and Flynn at a small table. Luke had never looked more offended in his life as he joined Reggie in sitting with Alex and Willie.

"What did you do on Saturday?" Alex asked, leaning forward to whisper. "Julie was fine when she told us we don't need to come by at all."

"Julie told you not to come over?" Luke asked, ripping his gaze from Julie to Alex and then Reggie, who shook his head.

"Bro, she actually called Alex and told him that we don't need to come see you because she was going to."

"Yeah, I remember her being there but I was drugged up on cough syrup."

"Weak," Alex whispered loudly, grinning when he made Willie laugh.

"Maybe you said something?" Willie suggested.

"Yeah, probably! But she's not talking to me. She's not even insulting me, which I would very much prefer over this apathy."

"You know where she lives," Reggie said dismissively. "Maybe you should pay her a visit."

Luke glanced across the cafeteria to see Julie quickly whip her head down to stare at her fold. "Yeah. Maybe."

Julie was tired and wanted nothing more than to go to sleep. Her plans were thrown way off the rails when she walked into her room and found Luke petering around the shelves beside her bed.

"What are you doing here?"

Luke drew his hand back sharply. "Cute box. What's in it?"

"None of your business," Julie snapped, hurriedly closing her bedroom door. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to talk to you but you were ignoring me and--"

"You could've just yelled at me from outside," Julie hissed. "I would have come down to shut you up! You can't be in here. Get out of my room."

"No. Not until you tell me why you've been avoiding me since Saturday. Jules, what--"

"Fine! Go and wait for me in the garage. I'll come talk to you in there."

Luke hesitated, unsure if Julie was serious.

When she heard footsteps getting closer, Julie grabbed Luke by the neckline of his shirt and dragged him to the window. "Get out," she whispered hurriedly, "I'll come down to the garage, I promise."

Thankfully, by the time her father arrived, Luke was gone.

"Who were you talking to, mija?"

"Luke," Julie said with a smile. She pointed at the phone. "He liked the cupcakes I sent with Willie."

"Oh, that's great. You didn't take something yesterday and today? Is he feeling better?"

"Much," Julie said, nodding, "in fact, we have some talking to do, so I'm gonna meet him in the garage in a few minutes."

"So late?"

Julie absolutely could not lie to her dad. But she could do half truths. "It's a long overdue discussion."

"School work?"

Julie shrugged. "Music."

"Ah. The garage makes sense. Well, do you wanna take some food down? Midnight snack?"

"Thanks, dad," Julie said with a smile, "you're the best."

"Oh, your dad is the best!" Luke cried as soon as he saw Julie walk in with a plate of cookies.

"These are experimental, too. They're some kind of oatmeal and choc mint blend. They taste good, in my opinion."

"Everything your dad makes tastes good," Luke said, grabbing three cookies. "My mom's starting to get jealous of how much I love your dad's cooking."

Juli smiled and set the plate down on the coffee table. Was there any point beating around the bush? Sugarcoating things?

"You told me I was music."

Luke paused, one and a half cookies gone. "What?"

Julie kept her gaze trained on the tassels of the carpet. "You told me I'm annoying . . . because I'm pretty. Because I have a pretty heart. You said it beats like a drum and I have the prettiest music in me that gets stuck in your head. It --"

"Smells like spring and looks like butterflies. . ." Luke looked positively mortified.

Julie, refusing to look up, did not notice. "You said . . . you said my heart sounds like a ballad and then -- and then you told me I am music."

Had he really said all that aloud? Well, no wonder Julie was avoiding him like the plague.

Julie tensed up when she could see Luke's feet step in front of her. Almost every part of her screamed that this was wrong. They shouldn't be so close without bickering and fighting. But deeper within, beyond the confines of logic and sense, Luke's voice told her that this was the furthest thing from wrong.

"I said all that? Aloud?"

Julie nodded.

"You know what music is to me."

Julie nodded again.

"Jules," Luke said gently. "Julie, look at me."

Julie refused to, so Luke gingerly tucked his finger under her chin and lifted her head, waiting until her gaze fell on him before speaking.

"You know what music is to me," he said again, prompting another nod from Julie. "Then you know what you mean to me."

Julie blinked a few times and shook her head. "No. No, that's just the fever talking. You -- you didn't really mean all of that."

"If you really believe that, why are you avoiding me?"

"I . . . I don't know."

Luke dropped his hand to take hold of Julie's. He glanced at her, waiting for her to pull away. When she didn't, he interlocked his fingers with hers. "I meant every word. Okay, maybe not literally, but you know what I mean."

Julie shook her head. "We're not even friends, Luke."

"Hm, well, who said I wanted to be your friend?"

Julie wanted to hate Luke. She wanted to loathe the sight of him. She didn't want to like him, let alone love him.

And yet, she did.

So before the overthinker in her could stop her, Julie leaned up on tiptoes and brushed her lips against his. Luke beamed at her like a kid on Christmas morning.

"Not the response I was expecting, but definitely one I'm enjoying."

"Don't make me regret it."

"Yes, ma'am. Now, what are my chances of getting two more? And one for the road? Within the next five seconds becaus my mom doesn't know I snuck out and she think I'm still sick."

"Dork," Julie said fondly, shaking her head.

"I'm serious!"

"You can have two."

"Three."

"Two."

"Four."

"One."

"Two will do," Luke said, letting go of Julie's hands to wrap his arms around her. He gave her a small squeeze. "Plus a hug."

"Dork," Julie said again. But he was her dork and he was her favourite.

Before anyone comes for me about the cough syrup thing, I'm drawing from experience. I mean I never confessed my undying love for anyone but I did blurt out some weird shit. Also, THAT WAS LONG AND IF YOU SURVIVED THE ENTIRE THING, CONGRATULATIONS TO YOU

Mara's masterlist

#julie and the phantoms #julie and the fat ones #julie and the himbos #jatp #juke #julie x luke #julie molina #luke patterson #sunset curve #jatpweek

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burninghoneyatdusk · 3 years

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creator tag game!

Rules: it’s time to love yourselves! choose your 5 (ish) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020.

Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

1. HOMESICK (IT’S A BITTERSWEET FEELING)

When Bellamy looks up, he sees a young blonde girl with sky blue eyes sitting in a booth two down from his own with a man he assumes to be her father. Bellamy watches her ignore the food in front of her as she concentrates so hard on the picture she’s drawing that her brow is furrowed and there’s a determined little frown on her small heart-shaped face. This isn’t the first time he meets her, but it’s the first time the Griffins enter his little town and his little life.

Bellamy and Clarke can’t stand each other, which is only exasperated by the fact that as step siblings, they’re stuck in the same house. But when they’re paired up as lab partners, they grow closer and realize they may have more in common than they thought. Which really only complicates things further…

This fic really means a lot to me in that it’s both my first fic and the only finished WIP of mine that will change in a few weeks. I really wanted to write a story of forbidden love and went the step-siblings route, but also chose to use the small town setting that I grew up in. This fic will always be close to my heart and it makes my day when people discover and like it.

2. ALL BECAUSE OF YOU

When Clarke gets knocked up at 18 by her best friend's brother, her plans for the future go down the drain. She never would have guessed that seven years later, her and Bellamy would be successfully co-parenting their daughter as best friends. Best friends - nothing more, nothing less. Clarke has never let herself entertain the thought of anything more - she knows where Bellamy's stood since the beginning. It's time for her to move on, once and for all.

When Bellamy gets Clarke pregnant, he feels like he's ruined her life. He makes a promise to himself that he'll make sure his daughter and Clarke have the lives they both deserve- and he's sure Clarke deserves a hell of a lot more than him. He thinks he's done a good job pushing away his feelings for her for the last seven years, but when Clarke gets engaged, he wonders if he's made a mistake. He wonders if it's too late.

I really never imagined that people would enjoy this fic like they have - it’s literally that *before bed story I play in my head while trying to sleep* and writing it was really self-indulgent so the attention it has gotten is bewildering to me and I’m so grateful. I’m working on the last chapter now and although I’m definitely ready to put this fic to bed, I’ll be sad to see it end.

This fic won best angst wip, best modern au, best parenthood, and tied for best smut wip in the @bellarkeficawards which was really awesome and I’m so grateful to those who read it, enjoyed it, and voted 💙

3. VOICES IN THE WATER

In an attempt at establishing a more permanent peace between Trikru and Azgeda, Heda negotiates an arranged marriage between Trikru King Bellamy and Azgeda Princess Clarke, the dutiful niece of Queen Nia.

If only they knew that the princess spends her nights as the feared assassin Wanheda, the queen’s secret weapon and a wanted legend among the clans.

If only they knew that the queen has no intention of establishing peace with Trikru.

If only they knew the Trikru King is Wanheda’s next target.

This is the first canonverse fic I attempted - I really wanted to write a grounder!bellamy arranged marriage au & originally planned to have Clarke as part of the sky people like in the show, but it felt like that had been done several times over. I got the idea to have Clarke as an assassin when thinking about this fic and then seeing the script to screen for the s4 bellarke scene where Clarke is threatening to shoot Bellamy for opening the door to the bunker.

This fic won best canon wip, best grounder au, and best arranged marriage au for @bellarkeficawards so once again, a huge thanks to the readers for voting for this. I know it’s been a minute since it was updated but three chapter updates are in my @t100fic-for-blm queue and should be published in February.

4. CHASIN’ YOU

When Bellamy and Clarke fell in love as teenagers in small town Tennessee, it felt like they had the world at their feet. But when tragedy struck and Clarke lost everything, she ran.

Six years later, Bellamy Blake is a rising country star. Unbeknownst to his fans, the song that sent him to the top of the charts is a promise to the girl he never stopped loving. A promise that he’ll never stop looking for her, even if the only chance he has of finding her again is through the radio.

I really love this fic, even though it’s actually the fic with the second to lowest kudos. I’m hoping when I publish chapters 3 & 4 (both requested for @t100fic-for-blm) in March, it’ll get some more love since it really only got started and then I haven’t updated in a long time.

I’m really excited to write this because I think the way the story is being told hasn’t been done - it’s essentially Clarke in the present listening to Bellamy’s album, and each track is a chapter that will feature flashbacks that tell their story of falling in love and then falling apart, before eventually catching up with them in the present.

5. LET YOUR HEART BEAT HERE

The incredible above drawing is by @poppykru 💞

It’s wedding season and Clarke, as single as ever, is faced with the prospect of spending an entire summer at the singles’ table. The only person who might be more miserable than her is her best friend’s brother Bellamy, who just got dumped from a three year relationship.

Bellamy and Clarke have never gotten along, but to survive wedding season, they make a deal - double down on weddings by being each others’ plus ones. It’s only a mutually beneficial agreement, a way to avoid the singles’ tables and wingman each other. At least, that’s all it was supposed to be.

This fic is a Plus One au, although with an enemies to friends to lovers twist rather than just friends to lovers like in the movie. If you haven’t seen it, it’s an amazing movie that I’m a bit obsessed with. It’s one of the best rom coms I’ve ever seen in that it’s genuinely funny but grounded and realistic, and I really love the message it tells about love not needing to be perfect and certain for it to be real and worth it. If you haven’t seen it, I can’t recommend it enough.

I wrote this fic as part of the @t100fic-for-blm donation celebration, where we wrote fics based on tropes and themes voted on by prompters as a thank you for helping us reach $2,500 by the series finale

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One thing I wanted to remind people is that although I’m not accepting new prompts until I catch up on the ones on my list now, I am accepting WIP update requests via @t100fic-for-blm for Voices in the Water, Chasin’ You, and Let Your Heart Beat Here. You can view my current list/schedule on my pinned post and if you want to see more WIP chapters of a particular fic prioritized, requesting an update is a great way to make that happen!

I’m forgetting so many people, so if you want to do this consider yourself tagged & tag me in your post! 💕

#bellarke #bellarke fanfiction #bellarke fanfic #the 100 #the 100 fanfiction #burninghoneyatdusk #my fics #homesick (it’s a bittersweet feeling)#all because of you #voices in the water #chasin’ you #let your heart beat here #tag games #fandom

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lov3nerdstuff · 3 years

Text

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.12}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 4.4k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

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The time before the actual welcoming feast seemed to stretch on forever this year. The sorting took longer than usual, or at least it felt like that, and Dumbledore's speech seemed even more repetitive and boring than it always had. Robin guessed that it was the 48 hours without a meal that had her desperately looking forward to the beginning of the feast, and seeing as nobody else seemed to be bothered by how long it all was taking, she probably was right to think so.

In her impatience, she started fiddling with whatever cutlery she had within her reach on the table, tapping her feet, nibbling on her bottom lip… until the people around her were starting to be seriously irritated by her behavior, upon which she forced herself to stop. Instead, she went for her usual inspection of the staff at the head table. What was sitting up there like? Did they ever feel observed, or were they used to it from all the time they got stared at in class? She should ask about it, at some point.

Other than a few more wrinkles here and some new robes there, things really hadn't changed; they never did. While Dumbledore was speaking in the front, the teachers behind him were unsurprisingly not paying all too much attention. Sure, they all made the impression to be listening, but when Robin followed the line of faces, she could see Sprout quietly chatting with Hooch, Trelawney taking more interest in her goblet than in her colleagues, Hagrid and Flitwick having a very subtle argument about something… and then there was McGonagall, talking to Snape as if there wasn't even a speech she ought to be listening to. Robin inevitably had to smile when she saw the two; McGonagall being very much focused on whatever she was saying, while Snape was listening carefully but pretended to be entirely uninterested at the same time. Robin realized that he might very well do that to everyone who tried to talk to him about anything of minor importance. Then again… he was always listening to whatever she was rambling about, without a single spark of indifference. The thought made her smile even more. Perhaps he simply didn't bother with the facades around her anymore because she knew better anyway.

When the meal finally started, Robin was more than happy to indulge in the different kinds of food, and somehow everything tasted better than she remembered it to. But after weeks of living off whatever was cheapest in the store that day, a fully cooked meal like this was the most luxurious thing she could think of in the first place.

"I don't think I've ever seen you enjoying your food that much." Jorien remarked after a while, and Robin had to fight the embarrassment that wanted to paint her face.

"Yeah, didn't you get any breakfast at home?" Cas chuckled while she again picked the mushrooms out of her mixed vegetables and moved them over to Robin's plate. Some things just never changed.

"Good question, you've certainly lost some weight over the weeks of summer…" Jorien added, and both girls looked at Robin expectantly for an answer.

"I had quite a bit of exercise during the holidays, more than I usually get. Running through nature all day, every day, is a workout in itself. Perhaps that's where the weight went." She only shrugged in return, putting it off as nothing like she did so often when she didn't want the girls to know the truth. "I'm sure I'll be back to normal in no time now that we're back at school."

"You should eat dessert, too, then. Your robes look too loose like that, the fit needs some curve!" Cas replied in an expert manner, and Jorien only snorted while rolling her eyes. Robin however didn't mind, and when the time came, she had dessert indeed.

When the feast was over at last and the students started filing out of the hall to head to their common rooms, the three girls were among the very last to leave, as were Simon and his friends. The group split up into three segments in the entrance hall, Cas and Jorien heading to the Slytherin common room and the Ravenclaw boys to their own, while Robin wanted to tag along with her roommates for the way down to the office. But she didn't even get to the staircase before she was whisked away from the two girls –who were accustomed to her sudden disappearances by now– and she found herself in a gloomy ground-level hallway she hadn't even known existed up to this point, with a racing heart that only changed the reason for its speeding but not its pace itself when her eyes fell onto Snape two steps away now. Bloody hell… he shouldn't do things like this if he didn't want her to just lose it at some point.

"Was that really necessary?" She huffed in amusement, and couldn't help smiling up at him anyway. "I was just on my way down to the office to find you!"

"That is precisely why it was necessary." He replied calmly, with the barest hint of a not-smirk. "I have to patrol the castle grounds tonight, Minerva asked me to switch places with her. So no sitting in the office for now."

"Lovely." Robin sighed under her breath, crossing her arms over her chest as she leaned back against the cold stone wall behind her. "And here I was, thinking that I would finally get to have coffee with you again after a week of being alone."

"We still can, after patrolling. Are you accompanying me like always?"

"Obviously." She gave him a small smirk once more, leaning her head to the side. "Are you making me coffee afterwards as a fair compensation like always?"

"Obviously." He rolled his eyes in feigned annoyance, which only made Robin grin more. "I must admit, a week without your insufferable self really turned out to be quite dreadful after all."

"Good. I missed you too."

"Is my house still standing?"

"Would it annoy you more if I said yes or no?" She asked innocently, rising her eyebrows once more, and her heart skipped a beat when he actually smirked for real in return. Always a delight to see, no matter how frequently it happened by now when they were alone.

They started sauntering through the hallways then, like they had done in the past school year as well, in search for students breaking curfew or any other inconveniences they could only hope not to encounter. Patrolling really was something Robin couldn't help but wonder about. Usually it meant for one professor to wander the castle alone, in the dark, without anything to do other than trying to make the night pass by as soon as possible. How dreadfully boring that must be; she was glad that she could make the dull task a little better for Snape by joining him in the misery of it at least. That way, they at least could chat and joke and bicker like always, only a bit more quietly. The portraits still grumbled at them from time to time, which however they simply ignored as they moved along. After an hour, they had caught up on the week's few events on either end, and Snape was quite obviously annoyed by the fact that Robin had spent two days without a meal. It took her a good twenty minutes to convince him that it was fine, and even more importantly, that it was in the past now and thus didn't matter anymore. Still, he seemed to be rather upset with himself about the issue, but Robin knew better than to push him, so she merely changed the topic, and eventually they were back to the usual. Other than that the night was considerably eventless.

It was only when they were passing through an almost empty sixth floor hallway when Robin picked up on a noise to her right, thus stopped walking abruptly and listened instead. Snape followed the example an instant later, and they stood in the middle of the hallway for a moment to listen to the silence, until the odd noises picked up again, from behind an inconspicuous door on the wall to their right a bit further down the hallway.

"Isn't that… just a broom closet?" Robin asked in an irritated whisper, frowning to herself first and then at Snape, until her brain made sense of the circumstances and she felt the heat creeping up her neck. "I, uh… I don't think I want to open that door."

"Neither do I." He grumbled in return, glaring at the door as if it would change anything about the awkward situation. "But as it happens to be, I will have to and you do not. So go ahead and spare yourself the embarrassment if you wish to."

"Nonsense. I'm not letting you suffer alone." She was quick to reply, then made the final few steps to stand with her back against the wall across from the door, and the very second Snape had caught up with her, she opened it with a wordless spell. It was ironic, really, that she didn't mind doing uncomfortable things in his place for the sake of sparing him from it.

The door flew open with a start, two startled yelps could be heard, and Robin's eyes fell onto two kids she had never seen before, which meant they had to be in the years below. They were still mostly dressed, it seems, and she was honestly glad for that at least. No need to make things even more awkward for anyone involved. Both the boy and the girl, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff respectively, quickly snapped out of their shock and straightened their clothing before trying to stammer out poor excuses for what they were doing in a broom closet at this time of night. Honestly, Robin just wanted to snort at their words and actions every other second, but she kept a perfect straight face of neutrality as always while Snape held his usual speech about rule-breaking and improper behavior that she had been a witness of often enough at this point. Never on the receiving end, obviously, but they had encountered enough students out of bed during their patrols that by now she could almost mouth along with his words. She only started actually listening again when Snape turned towards her.

"Could you accompany Miss Parlow to Professor Sprout's office?" He asked neutrally, but without the scowl he had directed at the two students a mere moment before. "I will see to it that Mister Sterling finds his way to Professor Flitwick."

"Yes, of course." Robin found herself replying before she thought, and only once she had agreed so easily, she thought that he had never asked her to do this before. It definitely was an act of trust rather than a burden, she knew that, and that's why she was all the more determined to see even this easy task through.

"Who exactly are you anyway?" The Hufflepuff girl eventually asked, as Robin led her through a few more empty hallways. "No offense, but you look like a fifth year, maximum. Why on earth are YOU escorting ME?"

"That isn't of your concern." Robin replied indifferently, and she was glad that she had decided to take a shortcut to Sprout's office. Perhaps she would ask Simon about the girl, they obviously were in the same grade.

"And why on earth would you wander around with Snape at this time, or at any time really? Is this your detention or something?" The girl asked on, and Robin sent her a glare that shut her up instead of answering the questions.

A few minutes later they reached the herbology professor's office, and Robin knocked three times, then waited while the girl by her side grew more and more nervous. When Sprout opened the door at last, Robin gave her a polite smile, then explained the situation shortly and to the point upon which the girl was ushered into the office.

"Thank you, Robin, I will take care of the issue from here right away." Sprout gave her a smile in return at last, while the girl in the office behind her now looked positively startled. "Tell Severus my thanks too, will you?"

"Wait, YOU are Robin? The girl who everyone's been talking about for years?" The girl in the office asked incredulously a second later, and finally she just seemed absolutely horrified. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry about what I said! Please forget I ever said anything at all, I honestly didn't mean to upset you!"

"Seems like you have inherited some of Severus' reputation after all, huh?" Sprout snickered quietly, and Robin almost had to smirk at her words in return.

"Actually, I believe that this was mostly my own doing." She replied under her breath. "Ever since that incident in my fourth year, people have been weary of me, and as it seems, rumours and legend grow stronger over time. I doubt that any of the lower years even knows what it all is about anymore, but that doesn't stop them from believing in my reputation."

"Take it as a gift, dear. It is hard to come by their respect in any way, especially when you're that young yourself." Sprout sighed quietly, then gave Robin another encouraging smile. "Well, anyway, I hope you two have a good night!"

"Likewise, thank you." Robin returned, and only when Sprout shut the door behind herself, leaving Robin alone in the hallway, she frowned at the herbology teacher's words for a moment before finally making her way back through the hallways to where she would meet Snape in the ground-level hallway they had started out in.

But again, Robin didn't get that far; Somehow, people seemed to take joy in disrupting her plans today, and it left her feeling less in control than she would've liked. This time, how could it be any different, it was Morgan who stepped into her way out of nowhere.

"Miss Mitchell, what a delight to have you back at last. For the new term, of course." He smiled at her brightly, and the hairs in Robin's neck stood on high alert in an instant.

"Professor…" She greeted him politely, but when she tried to walk around him while keeping her head low like she ought to, he blocked her way again, this time getting way too close for comfort.

"And where would we be headed?" He inquired in a bright tone as he moved in even closer, making Robin back up until her back hit the wall. Well… damnit.

"I was just on my way back from Professor Sprout's office." She replied truthfully but quietly, in an attempt to keep her facade up and play the submissive little girl. The act still made her feel sick, but she hadn't forgotten their encounter at the ball; it was very much necessary to refrain from fighting back, and she had done a fairly good job at it ever since adoption this strategy.

"I see." He sighed softly, but still refused to back up even a step. He clearly didn't mind invading her personal space, which became all the more obvious when he traced a single finger along her collarbone and down her shoulder. Robin would've very much liked to break his arm for doing that, but such a behaviour unfortunately wouldn't count as laying low. So she only stared at the ground a few steps behind him and tried not to break her act while he spoke. "After making it to honours in herbology and even giving a lecture in front of renowned professionals in the field, I'm sure you can teach Pomona one thing or two…"

"You… you know about the lecture?"

"It was in the news, darling." He purred with a sickening smile. "I still have the article in my rooms… And the picture, of course."

The thought that Morgan had kept a picture of her made Robin feel even more sour than the situation did anyway, and she honestly just wanted to hex him further down the hallway with a single spell and then dash off like her body and mind were telling her to. But that would count as attacking a teacher, and without any witnesses or proof of her story, she would always end up on the losing end of that scenario. Whatever she did, people would believe Morgan's version of it more than hers, more than the truth.

"You have lost some weight since the picture was taken…" He finally spoke on, in a nonchalant tone that still had a cutting edge to it, and at last he removed his hand from her arm. "Say, doesn't Severus feed his little pet enough?"

A cold shudder ran down Robin's spine, at the same time as her stomach churned and her heart stopped for a moment, then started racing. She felt sick now indeed, scared and sick and far too close to panicking. Morgan was obviously playing with her, trying to get a reaction… but she wouldn't give him one. At least not the one she wanted to give, which was precisely the one he wanted to see.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She breathed in sincere fear, which was working in her favor for once. Why cover up something that was helping the act?

"Oh, I'm sure you do." He smiled at her in a mixture of humour and some twisted kind of adoration. "What do you get out of it, huh?"

"I have no idea what you're implying, but whatever it is, you're absolutely wrong. Sir."

"I mean, Miss Mitchell, that he gets a beautiful and spectacularly talented woman all to himself, devoted as you clearly are. But what do you get from him in return?"

"You're wrong…" Robin croaked out in a whisper, but she couldn't even think of anything else to say to defend herself without starting a war right here, right now.

"Don't tell me I wouldn't find his fingerprints on your skin if I were to take a look… Don't tell me you don't want him to save you right now." He hissed, and his hand was back on Robin's shoulder, squeezing painfully like he had all this time ago down by the forest. She winced involuntarily, and squeezed her eyes shut for a moment to keep the gathering tears from spilling over. Perhaps it wasn't so difficult to play scared after all… not when she really was terrified out of her mind for real.

"Let go of me. Please." She tried to get out as calmly as she could, but her shoulder was hurting enough to make her grit her teeth. The pain didn't suffice however for her to miss how his other hand traced her collarbone once again, only to move towards her neck this time. Her urge to fight back grew to the unbearable, and she had to ball up a bunch of fabric of her robes in each hand to keep them at her sides. "You have no right to touch me, nor to threaten me. So, Let. Me. Go."

"You were supposed to be mine, you know…" He sighed sadly, and his fingers traced down Robin's neck, following the thin silver chain of her necklace across her chest to the point where it ran beneath her blouse. Then he tugged the chain up until he held the locket between his fingertips. "It was supposed to be you and I until the end. But Severus just had to get in the way, didn't he? I shall make sure he sees the error in claiming what is mine."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Robin's emotions were finally gaining the upper hand, and her voice shook with anger and fear alike. "But if you try to harm him in any way, I shall make sure that I will be the very end of you."

"Ah, there you finally are again, my dear… I have missed you." Morgan held her gaze with a smirk for a moment, then his eyes traveled down to the locket and inevitably also to her cleavage. "So fierce… So full of passion." With a start he yanked on the necklace, and the thin chain bit deeply into Robin's neck before coming undone.

Damnit, her act was blown, her neck hurting and her shoulder was still trapped in his punishing grip. Robin had given him exactly what he wanted, she knew that, but it was too late to change that now. Even her facades had a breaking point, and Morgan had found it at last. Yet, he still kept her pressed into the wall by her shoulder as he inspected the locket in his hand curiously for a moment, then looked back up at her with a sneer.

"I'm sure you won't mind if I keep this for a while, will you? As a reminder of what ought to inevitably be…"

"Fuck off." Robin hissed in return, dropping every hint of submission to glare up at him in pure hostility. "If you truly believe yourself to be entitled to me in some sickening way, you're even more eaten up by insanity than I thought."

"Insanity is such a vile word, darling… I am dedicated, just like you are. We have more in common than you think."

"You're nothing like me."

"No, I'm certainly not." Morgan chuckled softly and took the last step closer to press Robin into the wall with his own body now. "But that doesn't mean we have nothing in common."

"Get away from me right now or you will regret it." Robin said coldly, and finally released the balled up fabric from her hands. Witnesses or not, she would rather get expelled for attacking a teacher than letting herself be assaulted like this.

"Oh please…" Morgan scoffed in a dismissive tone, and after slipping the necklace into the pockets of his robes, he placed his now free hand against the wall next to Robin's head. "I'm not scared of Severus. And I'm certainly not scared of you."

"You should be." Robin stated under her breath, then focused her entire energy and willpower into a wordless spell that had Morgan flying through the hallway indeed, a good twenty feet even, before he came crashing down on the ground with a gruesome cracking sound.

For a moment he merely groaned and hardly even moved, but Robin still drew her wand from her sleeve and pointed it at the professor in determination to do whatever was necessary to defend herself. No matter what he was about to do now, she wouldn't let him catch her off guard. Not again. But she also wouldn't be the one to attack, not even when he deserved it quite so much at this point. But to her surprise, Morgan simply sat up after a while, hissing in pain, but with the biggest smile on his face.

"This should suffice to get you expelled." He chuckled to himself, overly happy at the prospect, so much so that he simply wouldn't stop grinning.

If anything, this proved Robin right in her assumption that he had been trying to coax such a reaction from her. But then again, she was absolutely certain that his behavior, his words and actions, hadn't been just for show. He wouldn't have bothered to keep her locket if it had been, he merely could've destroyed it or tossed it aside. But he wanted a trophy, and he wanted HER, that much she was certain of now. Only didn't she know what he wanted her for, or why. He certainly despised her, he had absolutely hated her for all these long years, and yet, now, he still wanted her in some twisted way… Robin didn't understand. Not even nearly, not when his behaviour was so different all of a sudden, and yet so very in line with everything that had been in the years before. No, Robin didn't understand at all. But when Morgan scrambled to his feet and limped back towards her, she didn't get the time to think about it any longer.

"A broken bone or two are quite the lovely evidence you presented me with. I shall thank you, my dear." He smiled at her sweetly once more, but stopped a few steps away now that Robin kept her wand pointed at him and bowed ridiculously low before her. How could anyone be like that?! She didn't understand, none of it, but Morgan didn't cease to scare her beyond reason anyhow.

Robin was just about to reply when she heard footsteps approaching quickly from her left, and Morgan seemed to notice them too, for he turned to look right into that direction as well. Three seconds later, Professor McGonagall stepped into the dim light of the few candles that lit up the partial crossing Robin and Morgan were standing in the middle of.

"Oh, Minerva!" Morgan went straight at it, his smile suddenly gone and replaced by a brilliantly feigned pain stricken expression. "Thank God you are here… You have to stop her! I… I think she broke my leg, perhaps my wrist as well, when… when she attacked me!"

McGonagall inspected the scene with wary eyes, taking in Robin's unfaltering grip on her wand that she still kept pointed at Morgan, then her colleague's pity-evoking appearance and pleading eyes. Robin knew that it looked beyond bad for her; what an ironic repetition of the event that had started it all six years ago. The same people, the same situation overall. Morgan was making Robin the villain of his story, himself the obvious victim, and McGonagall had no clue about what had really happened, but she was made to be his judge either way. But honestly, Robin didn't have it in her to defend herself like a bloody child caught in the act anymore. If she was asked for her version of events she would gladly provide it, but she wouldn't try to change opinions that were already forged in stone. If this would mark her fall from grace, she would at least fall with some last scraps of dignity.

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cloudshapedpatch · 3 years

Text

Bells and Whistles

Happy Holidays @ghostlyhamburger, I’m your Lovesquare Obsessed Secret Santa! I hope you enjoy this very indulgent soulmate au 💚🌸

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Music. It’s all around, and yet, it never gets old. How? How does an arrangement of notes and sounds create wonderful music capable of bringing deep joy and sadness?

Everyone knows people love music. Archeologists always seem to be finding older and simpler instruments used by early humankind. People just love to create their own sounds, if not for their own enjoyment, or perhaps to attempt to share the songs in their heads with others.

For Marinette, it was no different than everyone else. Her song. The leitmotif that seemed to always play in her head. And she could not get it to be quiet. Just once, she wished to take a school test and be able to focus on her paper, and not the wispy bells meant only for her own ears.

It was a nice melody, and the universe had made it just for her (and for her soulmate, but she wasn’t too concerned with this fact at the moment). She never grew tired of it, thank kwami, but it also meant she could never go very long without hearing it. And how the universe loved to play the tune in the least convenient times.

30 chimes of bells.

What is the circumference of a circle that has a diameter of 8 inches?

30 chimes of bells.

What’s 8 times pi?

30 damned chimes of bells.

Marinette let her head drop onto her desk, letting the lone bells play out a couple more times. She only resumed her math test once it seemed it was done.

Thus was a normal occurrence for most people. It still annoyed her.

Her teacher gave Marinette a sympathetic look as she handed in her completed test, bells still ringing in her head.

“Why don’t you just go look for your soulmate?” Alya had suggested one night as they watched a movie.

“I don’t wanna rush it.” Marinette had lied a little too easily for her liking.

“You know if you do, your tune will get beautifuller and—”

“And I’ll get to control when I hear it, yeah yeah.” Marinette tossed a few unpopped popcorn kernels at Alya, a wide smile on her face. “And beautifuller isn’t a word.”

“Whatever!” Alya had laughed then, a really joyous, belly-shaking laugh. As they continued to watch their movie, Marinette could tell Alya was playing her own symphony in her head (she always smiled like the biggest love-sick goofball).

Alya was among the lucky few who found her soulmate quite young. It always brought a smile to Marinette’s face when the young couple spoke of the day they realized. Although, Marinette always had to swallow her pride because she couldn’t let anyone know she was the one who had locked them in that fateful zoo cage.

Speaking of, Alya was leading Marinette out of the classroom, saying something about the test, but Marinette didn’t hear her. She was too busy with her own thoughts about songs and soulmates.

Surprisingly, Nino was the first to notice Marinette’s dazed state. His ‘You good?’ was accompanied with a familiar smile; the one that told her she had missed everything he had said.

Marinette blinked her thoughts away. “Yeah! Yeah, just thinking. What’s up?”

“Alya and I were saying we were gonna play UMS 3 at my house, wanna come make it a tournament?”

Marinette’s sudden perfect posture didn’t go unnoticed by either of the other teens. “Sorry, I have some family things tonight. You know how Thursdays are…”

“Right!” Alya punctuated the word with a snap. “Thursdays are family nights. Funny, Adrien said the same thing.”

Nino got an elbow to his side for snickering at Marinette’s blush, but it couldn’t be helped. They bade goodbye and went their separate ways.

The chilly December air stung her heated cheeks, eliciting a breath of thanks that she lived close to the school. In truth, Marinette’s family didn’t have family nights. Thursdays were allotted for Chat Noir’s visits.

He came every Thursday, without fail, at 9pm sharp. Why? No one had any clue. Her parents always cooked for four those nights to be sure he had food (They learned early on he didn’t get much to eat. This concerned Marinette deeply, not only as his partner but also as his soulmate). She supposed the saying was true, ‘feed a cat once and they will return’. He hadn’t stopped visiting ever since she offered him a cookie one otherwise-normal Thursday night about 4 months ago.

Tonight was no different. He knocked on her balcony window at 9 o’clock on the dot, he came down and ate his plate of food, and Marinette beat him at video games with her parents.

It was only when they had gone back up to her attic room that the night turned south.

Chat was hovering over her shoulder as she sketched a dress, excitedly giving her suggestions. Sometimes they were good, other times… not (memories of the awful purple and orange clown jumper threatened to surface).

Marinette had started to hum whilst she drew. Chat was playing with her hair and whispering encouragement, and all was well.

“Whatcha humming?” He murmured, barely audible above the sound of pencil on paper.

“Hm?” His hands had frozen in her hair, the lack of movement causing a lull in her train of thought. She blinked hard as if to will her thoughts back. “Oh, just a little tune. Should I put a flower or a bow here?”

“A bow, for sure.”

As she sketched the bow on the dress’ bodice, she hummed a little louder for Chat to hear.

And he hummed the last few notes with her.

Before she could comprehend how he knew the tune, she could hear a piano in her head, playing a sweet little harmony with jazzy drums. The familiar sound of ethereal bells played the melody she knew too well. It felt as if she were surrounded by a thousand magical whistles, carrying her up and away to the clouds. And based on the look in Chat’s eyes as he spun her chair to look at her, he was hearing it too.

Damn it.

She would have gotten emotional if she wasn’t filled with terror. Finding your soulmate was supposed to be an important event in one’s life. For Marinette, now it was another secret under her hat.

He was whispering her name, eyes sparkling and the most endearing smile on his face and why is he looking at me like that? say something, anything! to get him to stop!

“Wow it’s late, time flies, you know?” She cringed at her abnormally high voice, playing off the flinch as a yawn. “I should go to bed, haha.”

Her cheeks twitched with the effort to keep the fake smile as he just stood there, staring at her, an unreadable expression on his face.

And then she was in his arms as he carried her up to bed, eyes large and kind. He set her down gently before giving a two-finger salute and jumping through her balcony window. She felt the mattress bounce slightly from his weight. Too late, she registered his parting words to her, goodnight princess.

With a pillow secured to her face, she screamed.

“Marinette! Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Tikki. Just overwhelmed.” She threw the pillow down onto her knees.

“You don’t look fine.”

Neither did Tikki, if Marinette was being honest. She looked just as worried as she felt.

“I just… the ladybug and black cat miraculous are always soulmates, so I wanted Chat’s soulmate to be Ladybug, not Marinette. That makes sense, right?”

“Yes! And it was a great idea, but the universe has its own plans, and you can’t override them.”

“I know! It’s just that— I was planning— I didn’t want Marinette to be associated with Chat Noir. It’s too risky! What if people connect the dots? What if— oh no, Tikki! What if Plagg told Chat Noir about the soulmates? What if Chat Noir knows I’m Ladybug?!”

“Deep breaths, Marinette. It’s gonna be okay! I really don’t think Plagg would have told him, he’s really not fond of romance, he thinks it’s mushy.”

Marinette took a few moments to focus on her breathing, but Tikki’s unsure face didn’t calm her nerves any.

“I can go talk to Plagg if you want. And if Chat Noir really does know who you are, then we can work it all out! You make the rules now Marinette, you don’t have to choose a new partner unless you want to.”

The thought of her identity being known made her sick, but she tried to sleep anyway. A night of good rest would help her think more clearly, right?

She couldn’t help but let the song play out a few times more before she finally dozed off, only for it to echo in her sleep.

* * * *

If Marinette had been paying attention, she would have seen Adrien hovering nearby like the confused, enamoured puppy that he was. She would have noticed his lingering gaze, his soft smile. She would have noticed his internal debate over whether to say hello.

(Everyone else noticed; everyone except the object of his affections.)

Alas, she was too preoccupied with her increasing anxiety. She wasn’t sure when Tikki had left her purse, but she had checked ten minutes ago only to find she was missing. Her foot tapped at the floor at irregular intervals, matching the beat of the song in her heart (Jazz was the worst possible genre to pace her life, but then again, when was she ever regularly spaced?).

She played the whistling song in her head once more, too tired to fight her smile. She could have a much worse soulmate, that was for sure. Who wouldn’t want a sweet, considerate, objectively handsome if she really let herself think about it—

A nudge against her side let her know Tikki had phased into her purse. Almost too hastily, she excused herself to the washroom.

“So? What’s the verdict? I haven’t been able to focus all day!” She whispered, having been too anxious to wait for the door to close behind her.

“I’m so sorry, Marinette.”

Another wave of anxiety. Marinette took a shaky breath in. “What do you mean?”

Tikki’s little hands wrung each other dry as she spoke. “There was a miscommunication between Plagg and Chat Noir, and he knows you’re Ladybug now.”

Her charge slid to the floor by the sinks before her feet could give out completely. He knew? How could this have happened?

She fought the urge to cover her face and cringe. What now?

The door pushed in, Alya successfully interrupting her thoughts.

“Marinette! You okay?”

“Yeah!” Faster than a zip of her yo-yo, her hands flew to the hem of her pink jeans. “Just re-cuffing my jeans. What’s up?”

Alya gave Marinette a quirky sort-of look before shaking her head in amusement. “Miss Bustier wanted me to come get you. We’re starting the holiday party!”

“Let’s get going then!” Marinette locked arms with Alya as they walked out. If neither girl talked about the odd scene, perhaps they would both forget.

The party went well, the shiny menorah and shamash reflecting the small tree’s lights in dazzling patterns on the walls. The atmosphere was pleasant, the treats shared were delicious, and their White Elephant gift exchange went very well. The stuffed dinosaur she made ended up with Rose, and Marinette gratefully accepted a new oversized hat from Nino.

Adrien had caught her eyes a few times too many for her own comfort. It felt almost wrong to be thinking only of her partner while searching Adrien’s eyes for hidden meaning. She took his warm gaze and soft smile with a grain of salt, then turned her mind away to think of Chat Noir’s soft, affectionate gaze and his broad, warm smile that never failed to make her grin in return. For some reason, Adrien’s smile made Marinette want to listen to Chat’s song.

All too soon, the party came to a close. She bade her goodbyes, wished her friends a happy holiday break, and started to walk home in the early minutes of dusk. A fun day of sweet treats and party games left her heart warm and content. The soft tinkling of street lamps illuminating all around her brought a small spread of euphoria in her chest. Shadows danced in the corners of her eyes, drawing her gaze up to the rooftops, where her favorite pair of inhuman green eyes peered back at her. Chat leapt across the buildings in front of her, just enough to stop and look back for a moment as she walked.

Her stomach churned as they locked eyes. Feet glued to the pavement, she stared up at him, waiting for him to… well, she wasn't sure what she was waiting for. He was just looking at her, perched up four stories above her, head tilted.

Oh, she thought belatedly, he wants to talk.

With a small burst of resolution, she gave him a smile before willing her feet to move towards her house. By now the sun had set and the sky was gradually turning dark, a deep ocean encouraging her escape. As much as she longed to fall into the stars and float away, she also found herself giddy with excitement.

Their shared symphony played in her head as she opened the door to her home and excused herself upstairs, the melody almost unbidden, but she knew in her heart she had been longing to allow herself to enjoy it again.

Although, feeling ready for the next chapter of life was different than turning the page itself. There was sure to be shaky hands and stuttered words, confusion and maybe a little more bittersweet than she’d like, but, little did she know, there was going to be acceptance, overpowering emotions, tears, and many long hugs (and perhaps a few kisses), but that was life.

Besides, with her soulmate and partner by her side, she could do anything.

* * * *

Also! I may have gotten a little carried away and composed the leitmotif and the soulmate song as well~! You can listen to it here :)

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vampiresuns · 3 years

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Corazón Ardiente

2.3k words. Preparing themselves to cross the Strait of Sirens, the crew of The Jagged Ruby runs into another pirate ship. Alternative, in which Julianus makes an unlikely friend. Contains 🍋

The crew of The Jagged Ruby and El Corazón Sangrante, such as Captain Rodrigo and his Quartermaster Jacqui, belong to @apprenticealec. You can also check their map and lore about the Strait of Sirens here.

This is the opening part of Part VI of Secrets of An Ancient Moon Series. Part VI will be divided in three parts: Corazón Ardiente, Corazón Sufriente and Corazón Sangrante.

Want to read more of these series? You can find it’s masterpost here.

This part also introduces the fictional country of ‘Altazor’, a latino fictional country where Julianus is from — other Alzoreño characters in my fictional universe are Louisa De Silva and her son: Aelius Anatole Radošević.

It wasn’t too long past the break of dawn when Jules heard the door open, making the sea breeze from outside enter the room. Its coolness made them bury themselves a little further into the sheets, though they kept enough of their head above the covers to peek an eye open. Saoirse’s outline closed the door of their quarters, making the door click behind them.

Jules yawned, sitting up on the bed, holding the covers up only for the sake of warmth. Saoirse smiled at them.

“Did I wake you up?”

“No,” they said as they stretched. “What were you doing?”

“Feeding Marcius for you.” Saoirse paused, as if unsure of what to do next. “Do you want me to go back to bed with you, or are you alright? It’s still too early for anything to happen… Meredith is not awake yet.”

Jules patted the side of the bed next to them, but Saoirse hesitated again.

“What is it?”

“Should I join you with or without clothes?”

“That depends.”

“On?”

“What you want, what I may want. I could just go back to sleep, you were a wonderful pillow,” they smiled; Saoirse thought they looked adorable with a bedhead and a sleepy smile on their face. “But I also wouldn’t mind not going back to sleep, if that’s what you were wondering.”

The Quartermaster licked their own lips, a distinctively human gesture. J. C. couldn’t help but wonder where, or who, they had picked it up from. They wondered about all such mannerisms in them, marvelling at the entity standing before them. As Saoirse took their shirt off, they asked them why they were looking at them like that.

Julianus shrugged. “Aren’t you a curious entity?”

“Care to tell me why?” Saoirse asked as they got back in bed. They faced Julianus, tucking their mussed up hair behind one of their ears. “I don’t think there’s anything particularly curious about this, us.”

“No, not us,” Jules paused to kiss the corner of their mouth. “I just find it wonderfully delightful that someone such as you would choose to model themself after beings such as humans. You’re so alike us in our lack of similarities.”

Saoirse huffed through their nose. An undecipherable gesture that made Jules wonder if they did such things on purpose, or if they naturally to them. They didn’t ask however, allowing Saoirse space if they needed any. As their presence began acquiring that incomprehensible, vast feeling it often had, their eyes wandered all over them. However, Julianus no longer found it strange. Even if it prickled at them, they had learnt to find it comforting.

That was Saoirse, their Saoirse.

Neither of them should’ve been surprised they ended up having sex again. Why or who began it they didn’t know, nor they cared. Saoirse wanted to make use of Jules’ word that along with nights there would be mornings, and other moments, wanting to file away their many moods — both Jules’ and their own, and theirs as something which went together. Jules just wanted, simple as that. The day hadn’t begun yet, and given they weren’t nearly as quick as Saoirse was with their own tasks, not having had centuries to grow accustomed to them (as well as generally having a better capacity to finish tasks in one go). They weren’t going to pass on the opportunity to have the Quartermaster for themself just a little longer.

The distant but growing sound of drums had other plans, however.

Saoirse went still, getting out of bed as they claimed Meredith would not be happy about this. They moved across their quarters as if nothing had interrupted them, stopping only when J. C. cleared their throat. They look vaguely irritated.

“If you could explain—“

Saoirse turned with a reassuring smile, telling them it was nothing of importance, just something Meredith wouldn’t like. It didn’t require Julianus, so Saoirse told them to feel free to dress at their leisure. Before they could dwell a moment longer, however, they were gone.

Right, duty called. Now alone, Julianus set themself on getting ready, though it took them a moment to stir themselves into leaving the bed. They resigned themselves to their fate fast rather than slowly. At least the drumming, whatever its source, provided a nice ambience sound for it. It was energetic, like a Murga inviting Jules to join.

A Murga… when was the last time they had witnessed one? They must’ve been 17, 18 at most. Ten years was a long time, though sitting in bed to float over the waters of nostalgia wouldn’t get them anywhere, as tempting as it was, they knew better now, with time. Though the memories remained, they began moving. Sometimes, one had to sit with the discomfort and carry on — it’s lessons would come eventually.

A quick splash to their face, a scrub, some basic skin care, underwear, pants, a shirt, earrings and shoes. Only which ones? Meredith being otherwise occupied meant they had a little more time to dwell on their appearance, and Julianus used every extra moment they had. They didn’t have any breakfast duties that week, they could indulge. They settled on a pair of knee high lace ups, standing on one foot to adjust them.

As they tried to keep their balance, a soft knock came from the other side of the door. They stumbled forward, clinging onto a small table in order not to fall. With the rattle, the person behind the door opened it.

“Saoirse?”

“Uh, not precisely.”

The person was tall, tall enough to have to duck their head into Saoirse’s quarters, even if they lingered by the door. Jules did not have a good eye for measuring by estimation, but they knew they were definitely taller than Saoirse. They assumed that if they were specifically looking for them, they must know them.

The stranger acted with a gentle poise to them, somehow all amused, awkward and trying not to alarm Jules. It was nice of them, even if they didn’t know them, and by all means, from their perspective, the stranger in a friend’s room was Jules, not them.

“I can see that. Unless Saoirse decided they wanted a change of look.”

Jules frowned, letting their mouth run loose. “Would they? I mean, we’re talking about someone who isn’t precisely pressed about appearances.”

They both stared at each other in silence for a couple of moments, Jules adjusting their boots after a soft-spoken ‘excuse me’.

“If you keep balancing yourself on one foot, you’ll fall again— pardon me, but are you—?”

Saoirse’s voice came from behind the stranger, a smile audible in it. “I tell them that all the time. Hi, Jacqui. Were you looking for me?”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It turned out the drums came from the same place Jacqui, whom Jules knew only by the letters from him that Saoirse had shared with them, came from: Captain Rodrigo Aguilar’s El Corazón Sangrante, from the Sea of Persepia. Some business or the other had taken the Captain and his ship away from their sea, now making their return to it, as the quinquennial Pirate Meeting approached.

Jacqui, Rodrigo’s Quartermaster and Saoirse’s friend, had seen The Jagged Ruby from afar and convinced Rodrigo it would be better to join them in the cross of the Strait of Seals into Hinode. Winds weren’t favourable, and while it wasn’t a feeding season, another phenomenon Jules didn’t quite manage to understand made it desirable to have the most amount of aid possible crossing the strait.

“We should just be thankful Inuwashi isn’t near.”

“Is that Syd’s ship?” Jules asked. “Is there any particular reason for that or—?”

Saoirse was the one to reply: “The Sirens hate the ship,” they said with a shrug, “it makes it harder to cross after.”

“But the Sirens,” Jacqui said, giving Rodrigo a look, “like your songs.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Rodrigo said, rolling his eyes. “Whatever works: I don’t wanna become fish food, and I assume neither do you, Mere,—”

“Don’t call me that,” Meredith snarled at him.

Julianus made a mental note to ask Saoirse what was up with those two, and why they hated each other, or rather, why Meredith hated Rodrigo so much. Because from what Julianus could see, Rodrigo seemed too busy trying to flirt with her. He put a hand on her shoulder, and Meredith looked like she was ready to bite his hand off. Jacqui and Saoirse gave out equally long-suffering sighs.

Jules suddenly understood why —among all the other reasons Saoirse had given— they were friends. What they failed to notice, however, was Rodrigo looking at them.

“But now,” he said, with his Nopali accented common tongue, “you. You I haven’t met.”

Jacqui cursed.

“Me?”

“Drigo leave them out of this… what are you even doing here, Sanlaurento?”

“Legal counsel should be present at all times?”

Meredith rolled her eyes at them. “Scatter off.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The time to get to know Jacqui would come later, after both crews had disembarked in Hinode to stay the night there. They would not make it out of the Strait in one day with the weather and wind conditions, so it would be safer to stay the night on land if they planned to sleep without the risk of sleepwalking into the water, and becoming a tasty midnight snack for the beings luring said waters.

He was surprisingly gentle, incredibly soft spoken and very, very smart. He was very observant, prone to retreating into himself while being simultaneously aware of what was going on around him. He was also very, very aware of where Rodrigo was at all times.

They had begun talking about Saoirse’s language and their individual journeys to learn it, eventually moving into other topics. Julianus had asked how Jacqui met Saoirse —since they had never asked Saoirse themselves because, per their own admission, they forgot to ask— and Jacqui asked how Jules had ended up in Meredith’s ship.

They also talked briefly about Altazor, Jules home country.

It was located in the furthest, western end of the Bulan Range, with the City of Altazor as its capital. It was the southernmost of the West Bulan countries and had its own convoluted history. Originally coexisting in relative harmony with the indigenous populations of the area, a military regime had risen out of an old power dispute a couple of decades before Julianus was born. They had been born during the first years of the transition back into civilian hands, but the damage dealt was already done. What the tyrants had done to the Country was, to Julianus and anyone else with half a mind to it, unspeakable and unforgivable.

Of course, not everyone thought like that, but that was another story.

Julianus had lived in Altazor until their 20th birthday — having begun their legal studies there, they were transferred to Sirenia on a special request. They described the choice as ‘something’; whether the right or wrong something they didn’t know, and they told Jacqui as much.

“I applied to the Sea Palace as well, I was forced to, because you know,” the paused to take a drink, “there’s certain… charm about the endless escalating capacity of the Petite Bourgeoisie. Nothing like the dog eats dog tradition of it and the class it seeks to imitate. Needless to say, the Sea Palace said I was, how was it? ‘A low-pedigree, insubstantial applicant, with more enthusiasm than talent’. I, however, said I preferred to die on the side street than study with grave robbers and gatekeepers. My mother wasn’t happy, but she also wasn’t happy about what the Scholars called me, so...”

They smiled against their glass, Jacqui’s laughter as their companion.

“You’re lucky.”

“Meh, but thank you, I suppose.”

Their talk about the Sea Palace and those places they both had left behind at some point (even if neither of them talked openly about those) carried onto politics, international news, the state of the world; places they wanted to visit, authors they had read. Both of them talked animatedly about this or that, exchanging points of views and debating ideas like nothing else pressed them in the world. They acquired a lightness to them, finding themselves less weighed down by the things they did not talk of.

If only for a night, both of them could be what a part of them had always desired they were: two travelling scholars. Only that. Two people had all the time in the world to dissect it and pick it up again, ever-marvelling at everything it may have to offer.

Two people for whom the horizon was a goal, not an impossibility.

The conversation paused when Saoirse offered to go get them drinks again, leaving both of the newly found friends in comfortable silence, with the sounds of the Koizumi Inn surrounding them.

“You’re nice to talk to,” Jules said with a smile. “It’s hard to find people who simply understand.”

Jacqui looked at them like they had grown a second head. “I don’t know how to take that. I don’t even know what that means.”

“As a compliment because it was one.” They paused to nurse their glass, taking a sip of their drink. “You don’t have to tell me anything, and I do apologise if I’m overstepping but you kind of have the energy of someone who everything which they are, which matters the most to them, did not come easy. Saoirse has it, in their own way, Meredith has it for sure, you do. I think it takes a lot of guts to look in the eye of everyone who ever expected something of you and say ‘No, I will not sacrifice myself for this’.”

#the arcana #the arcana oc #my writing #secrets of an ancient moon series #jc sanlaurento #saoirse #meredith #captain rodrigo #jacqui #joirse #the janiverse #lemon

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maxgrayarchived · 4 years

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Learning How to Write a Redemption Arc from Avatar: The Last Airbender

Zuko in Avatar: The Last Airbender is a legend in redemption arcs, and the first example many people think of. He went from being the Avatar’s enemy, his biggest goal being to capture the Avatar and deliver him directly to the Fire Nation’s most vile tyrant, to being the Avatar’s good friend and ally. He makes plenty of mistakes along the way, but he atones to them and becomes a better person.

Today we’re going to be talking about Zuko, and what makes his redemption arc so effective.

For those who don’t know anything about the series, the show’s intro for the first episode tells you all you need to know:

“Water. Earth. Fire. Air. My grandmother used to tell me stories about the old days, a time of peace, when the Avatar kept balance between the Water Tribe, Earth Kingdom, Fire Nation, and Air Nomads- But that all changed when the Fire Nation attacked. Only the Avatar, master of all four elements, only he could stop the ruthless fire benders, but when the world needed him most, he vanished. A hundred years have passed and the Fire Nation is nearing victory in the war. Two years ago, my father and the men of my tribe journeyed to the Earth Kingdom to help fight against the Fire Nation, leaving me and my brother to look after our tribe. Some people believe that the Avatar was never reborn into the Air Nomads, and that the cycle is broken, but I haven’t lost hope. I still believe that somehow, the Avatar will return to save the world.”

The show follows Avatar Aang and his two friends, Katara and Sokka, as he learns the four styles of bending to defeat Fire Lord Ozai. Let’s break down Zuko’s general demeanor in each book (season) to get an overview of what his arc looks like.

Zuko, Book One

In Book One, Zuko is, irrefutably, our enemy. We may have some sympathy for him at times, but it doesn’t change the fact that his goal is to capture the Avatar, and ours is to keep him free and kicking so he can save the world.

He doesn’t have much hope for redemption in this book. He’s a total asshole, he doesn’t treat his crew well, and he’s selfish. However, we have his uncle Iroh, a man who is impossible not to love and happens to love Zuko very much.

Zuko, Book Two

This is the main part of Zuko’s struggle. He’s faced with many hard decisions, and tends to go back and forth with his morality. He makes tons of mistakes and takes several steps backwards, and he’s drowning in anger and confusion. It’s the most critical part of his arc.

Zuko, Book Three

Book Three is our payoff, and the peak of Zuko’s redemption. He finally knows what he really wants in life, and has faith in his destiny- His real destiny, the one he chose for himself. He joins the Avatar and his group, and earns their forgiveness and trust.

Motivations

Zuko’s main motivation, and more importantly, why, was clear from almost episode one. Yes, he wanted to capture the Avatar, but the why was something we could sympathize with. When a child thinks the reason their parents don't love them is their fault, especially when they think they did once have their parents’ unconditional love, they will put themselves through hell to get it back.

Avatar gave us all the ugly details, as well. When Zuko stands up and speaks against a plan that would end up with the intentional deaths of new Fire Nation soldiers that he believes to be innocent, his father demands Zuko to an agni kai, or a firebending duel. Zuko originally misunderstands and agrees to fight the general he disrespected, only to be faced with his own father. He refuses to fight, dropping to his knees in respect and pleading for his father’s forgiveness, only for Ozai to severely burn the left side of his face and banish him from the Fire Nation. He told Zuko that he could only return home if he returned with the Avatar, something that was thought to be impossible by almost everyone in the Four Nations.

To make it even harder to watch, his Uncle Iroh is the one telling this story, and as Zuko screams in agony while his father burns him, Iroh is so distraught that he has to look away. (There’s another thing to be said about how Iroh, a respected war general, drops everything to go with Zuko when he himself could remain safe and free in the Fire Nation, but that’s a different topic).

Afterwards, one of Zuko’s crewmembers says,

“So that’s why he’s so obsessed. Capturing the Avatar is the only chance he has of things returning to normal.”

His motivations don’t justify all the shitty things he does, not by a longshot, but the simple, humanizing act of saying exactly why he does what he does goes a long way. He’s not just an angry kid being needlessly cruel. He’s not an evil person, and we knew that from the beginning.

Mistakes

Mistakes are one of the most important parts of a redemption arc, because they’re what humanizes everything and makes the transformation believable. It’s impossible for a person to get better in a straight line. They will make mistakes, and they’ll backtrack.

But be careful: There are some things you can’t come back from. Don’t overdo it.

In the Crystal Catacombs in Book Two, Zuko makes a HUGE mistake. He has to choose between Azula (his sister), his father, and his nation… And his uncle. He chooses Azula, and attacks the Avatar (directly after trying to convince Katara that he’s changed lmaoooo). He’s so caught up in the idea of getting his father’s love ‘back’ and regaining his title that he ignores how much his uncle loves him and all that he’s done for Zuko.

There was also an episode, way early in Book Two, where Zuko splits up from Iroh entirely, because they had “nothing left to gain from traveling together.” He hurts Iroh’s feelings and makes himself more vulnerable for… What? Some teen angst? That’s the kind of shit I did in high school, and still sometimes now but come on.

He made a lot of mistakes with Iroh, in fact. He was constantly mean to him and taking out his anger on him. In “The Storm,” one of Zuko’s crewmembers says this,

“What do you know about respect? The way you talk to everyone around here, from your hard-working crew, to your esteemed uncle, shows you know NOTHING about respect! You don’t care about anyone but yourself! Then again, what should I expect from a spoiled prince?”

He made the mistake of trusting Azula MULTIPLE times! When Azula comes to Zuko after two years of his banishment, in the beginning of Book Two, she claims that Ozai had changed his mind and wanted Zuko home. He believes her, even though there’s not a single trustworthy thing about her. After she leaves them to talk it over, Iroh and Zuko have this conversation:

“He cares about me!”

“I care about you! And if Ozai wants you back, well, I think it may not be for the reasons you imagine.”

“You don’t know how my father feels about me. You don’t know ANYTHING!”

“Zuko, I only meant that in our family, things are not always what they seem.”

“I think you are EXACTLY what you seem: A lazy, mistrustful, SHALLOW old man who’s always been jealous of your brother!”

Finally, the last one that bears mentioning, happens at the start of Book Three. Zuko goes up to the Gaang and tries to convince them that he’s a good person now and should teach Aang firebending. They yell at him and tell him to leave, but after he does, Toph insists that Zuko is right and they should try to get along. She sneaks out later to talk to him, but she came in the dead of the night and Zuko is now an enemy to pretty much all four nations, so when he hears someone moving, he makes an intimidating ring of fire around his camp. However, Toph is blind, and she accidentally steps back onto the fire.

Zuko shouts apologies and tries to help her, but she’s panicking and hurries back home.

This is part of one of Zuko’s main arcs: Him learning how to control his firebending enough to not hurt innocent people.

Significant Steps

Like I mentioned: Don’t overdo it. Characters undergoing a redemption arc need to take positive steps in the right direction, but a lot of writers (me) get caught up in the mistakes part and lose all the redemption.

Among the many little hints and glimpses of hope you have, there should be a couple of major decisions that show your character’s progress- And the decision part is important.

In the first season, Zuko has a choice between saving his kidnapped uncle, and chasing the Avatar. He chooses his uncle, and good thing, too, because if he was mere seconds later, Iroh would have lost his hands. This also happens in a later episode, “The Storm,” when Zuko and his crew are caught in a typhoon. Zuko sees Appa, Aang’s bison, flying overhead and the crewmember who previously disrespected him and politely asked what Zuko wants to do.

He hesitates, before saying, “Let him go. We need to get this ship to safety.” He also apologizes to his uncle, who immediately accepts it.

Zuko is given the option several times to put his search for the Avatar over the safety of his family and crew, and he never takes it. Moments like this keep him from being completely irredeemable.

There’s another scene, at the beginning of the phenomenal episode “Zuko Alone,” where we see Zuko barely conscious, stumbling along on his ostrich-horse, presumably days without food. He passes a couple who’s cooking food on the road. He reaches for his broadswords to indulge in his newfound kleptomania, but stops as he realizes the girl is pregnant.

There’s also the very critical moment in Book Two, after the Gaang had been separated from Appa and were frantically looking for him. Zuko finds Appa, ends up letting him go, and evens drops his vigilante “Blue Spirit” mask into Lake Laogai, renouncing his search for Avatar. Iroh finds him, about to steal Appa, and yells at him, saying that it’s time for him to look in and ask himself the big questions- “Who are you, and what do you want?”

Dropping his search for the Avatar means abandoning a destiny that had been forced on him for two or three years (which is a long time for a 16 year old). It’s so scary and uncomfortable at first that he falls into a harsh sickness, but when he comes out of it, he feels much better. We see him smile for maybe the first time in the entire show!

There are also the moments that solidify his redemption, during and after the Gaang accepts him as one of their own. He goes with Sokka to The Boiling Rock to try and rescue his father, a prison where no one has ever escaped from, and goes with Katara to confront the man who killed her and Sokka’s mother. During the final battle, he sacrifices himself to save Katara and almost dies! It’s impossible to still hate him after that.

Sympathy & Humility

We should care about these characters the moment you start their arc, starting slowly and building as their redemption does.

Avatar starts early, with Commander Zhao. We definitely don’t like Zuko at this point, but we meet him and then we meet Zhao and they’re enemies and Zhao is so much more of an asshole that we find ourselves rooting for Zuko. After Zhao, a grown ass man, demeans Zuko, insults him, and pokes at his banishment- little reminder that Zuko is fucking sixteen years old -Zuko challenges Zhao to an agni kai. Zuko wins this, but as he’s walking away, Zhao attacks him from behind! Iroh steps him and says this:

“So this is how the great Commander Zhao acts in defeat? Disgraceful. Even in exile, my nephew is more honourable than you.”

And he’s got a point.

Zhao ends up going from a minor headache to a big fucking problem in that book, and even though we know if Zuko wins, he’ll have a chance to capture the Avatar, we’d rather take our chances there than have Zhao around one moment longer. I mean, he tried to kill the moon, for fuck’s sake.

When we meet Azula for the first time and she tells Zuko that Ozia regretted his banishment, an important but understated part of that scene is how goddamn happy Zuko is. We see all his excitement and relief, and then all his pain and anger surge back up when it’s revealed that Azula was taking them home as prisoners.

After Zhao died and Zuko was huddling in a cave during a snowstorm with a captured Aang, he talks about his homelife, specifically mentioning something his father said: That Azula was born lucky, and Zuko was lucky to be born. We see countless flashbacks, especially in “Zuko Alone,” of Zuko as a little boy just trying to win his father’s approval.

We root for Zuko countless times in that episode, actually, and this is before his redemption. “Zuko Alone” is such an important episode because it’s Zuko’s very first, real look at the war and what it does to people. After Zuko finds out that the family he is staying with has a son fighting in the war with a very real chance of dying soon, he makes a decision that he had purely good intentions with, but he’s so ignorant and naive to how the war works that he almost causes their only other child to be put in the war as well, and has to go rescue him.

In the episode “Crossroads of Destiny,” Zuko and Katara have a moment in the Crystal Catacombs of old Ba Sing Se, and it’s, like “Zuko Alone,” one of the first times he can actually put a face and a name to the victories of The Fire Nation- When Katara tells him about her mom. He doesn’t have any excuses here, and is forced to admit that the Fire Nation hurt him, too.

In “The Ember Island Players,” when the Gaang is watching a play that… Kind of, tells the story so far, Zuko says this:

“It takes every mistake I’ve ever made in my life and shoves them back in my face.”

He talks about his greatest regret- Betraying Iroh -and his he’s afraid he’ll never get to redeem himself. Later, Zuko and Iroh reunite, and Iroh says that he was never angry, he was just sad because he thought Zuko had lost his way. Zuko admits that he did lose his way, but he found it again.

We see Zuko struggle so much throughout the show with his morality and making the right decisions, so when he finally does, it’s a huge relief. He makes mistake after mistake, but nobody wants him to fail, not because we want another good guy, but because we see that he has good in him and we see how much Iroh believes in him.

Glimpses into the Future

It’s important that we have an idea of where this character is going to end up. We want something to look forward to so that we can push through the annoying stuff.

In the episode “The Blue Spirit,” the first time we see Zuko in his anonymous vigilante alter ego, we see what a great team he and Aang make when he rescues Aang from Zhao. They have a great battle chemistry and communicate well without Zuko needing to speak, then after Zuko is knocked out and Aang finds out his identity, he saves Zuko because Zuko saved him.

In “The Storm,” when Iroh is telling the crew how he got his scar and the conditions of his banishment, Iroh tells us, the audience, exactly what’s going to happen later in the series.

When the crew member says that Zuko finding the Avatar is the only chance he has for things returning to normal, Iroh says,

“Things will never return to normal. But the important thing is: The Avatar gives Zuko hope.”

Iroh recognizes that the kind of love Ozai would give him, if any, isn’t the kind that Zuko craves. Zuko only realizes this himself in Book Three, when he's back in the palace, back with his girlfriend Mai, and he’s won his father’s and people’s respect back. He admits to both Azula and Mai that something is wrong and he’s still not happy.

A Good Mentor

Most of the show, we see Iroh and his infinite patience trying to guide Zuko away from the same mistakes he made when he was younger. Before the start of the show, Iroh was a greatly respected, and feared, war general. This is referenced countless times throughout the series. He was so successful and respected that even leaving the Fire Nation to follow the banished prince couldn’t tarnish his reputation. Iroh had fallen into the same trap most of the Fire Nation did, that to be a man meant you had to be powerful, to be hurtful, and angry, and violent. He lost his only son to this ideology and was terrified of losing Zuko to it as well. At the end of Book One, before he and Zuko split up, Iroh’s begging him to be careful and admits that ever since he lost Lu Ten, he sees Zuko as a son of his own.

After Zuko’s betrayal in Ba Sing Se, Iroh leaves Zuko and forces him to make his own choices, which is when Zuko finally steps up (after some struggle).

Iroh made it very easy to care about Zuko, alongside Zuko’s moments of humility and glimpses of hope.

Summary

In short, Zuko is such a legendary character because he was well-rounded, and humanized. He never overstepped to the point where he couldn’t be redeemed, and even when he was at his worst, we knew who he could be, and that he does have good in him.

#atla #avatar: the last airbender #avatar the last airbender #avatar #avatar aang #atla zuko #zuko #amwriting #writeblr #writing #i love writing #writeblr advice #writing advice #redemption arcs

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andimlonely · 4 years

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You Shine

BNHA; Denki Kaminari x f!reader | With finals approaching, your diligence is cranked up to the highest setting, but after rarely seeing you outside of class for a few days, Denki has to step in before you run yourself into the ground.

✿♦ Fluff and angst

A/N: I was struggling with this one for awhile but I think I like how it turned out in the end. Listening to this: https://youtu.be/AGtKpeY6UqI really helped to inspire me, because it captures the feeling of the angsty moments well. Really, a lot of the angst I write will probably pair well with that song if it’s not super heavy. I hope you enjoy this one, and maybe even find some comfort in it if you can relate!

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“Heya, (y/n),” greets Kaminari as he strolls into your room casually, as he always does, clad in a black tank and grey track pants.

You lift your head and glance over your shoulder at him from your desk, noticing the dampness of his forehead and hair, “Hey, Denki. What’s up?”

“Nothin’ much. Kiri and I just got back from the gym. Can ya tell?”

It takes one glance at your blond friend’s silly pose, an attempt to flex all the muscle he purported to have, for you to chuckle, “Yeah, I can tell.”

He chuckles along with you, retorting that maybe he isn’t all muscular yet but he’ll get there, and dropping down onto your baby blue beanbag chair - and probably widening the small but worrisome ripped seam that you have yet to sew back up.

While he makes himself comfortable, you continue to tap at your keyboard, then pause to read, then tap away again, a monotonous cycle that threatens to lull him into a boredom-induced nap. By now Denki is used to the sight, having learned of your diligence before he even got to know you personally. In fact, it was due to Aizawa’s praise towards the students with perfect scores on the first exam that he reached out to you in the first place. With Yaoyorozu overbooked for studying sessions, it was between you and Midoriya, and while he had nothing against his freckled classmate, he wasn’t going to choose him as a tutor when there was someone cute and just as capable available.

But despite how accustomed he is to seeing you hunched over your desk, he’s no less dismayed.

“Don’t tell me you’re still studying,” he groans, his head tossed back against the beanbag.

The rhetorical nature of the question has you playfully rolling your eyes. “Should I even answer that? Besides, have you even started studying? Finals are next week.”

“It’s Monday! This week just started and you’re already worrying about the next one?”

He really won’t let this go. Exasperated, you drop your pen and swivel around so you can plead him to let you study.

“Denki,” you whine, “We’ve been over this. Cramming at the last minute isn’t a good idea, didn’t you learn that after the last math test?”

He cringes at the mention, raising his hands defensively, “Alright, alright. I’ll let you study, but you’re still playing games with us later. I’m not gonna let you ditch me for some homework.”

“Fine,” you sigh with exaggerated reluctance. Secretly, as exhausted by Denki’s refusal to let you work in peace you are, you’re endeared by how persistently he tries to give you a break. Taking a little time to go get food with your best friend, or watch a movie, or anything really, sounds especially fun right now. Almost fun enough to loosen your tight study schedule, almost.

It’s not as if you want to study, or that it’s some kind of recreational activity for you. Flicking endlessly through pages, straining your eyes scanning line upon line of text, and scrawling numbers and letters that become progressively less neat in your notebook are all pretty dreadful to you. But the prospect of being handed back an assignment marked with anything less than 90% possesses your body to keep at it. The weight of maintaining such a strict regimen might strain your shoulders, but the weight of failing or underperforming threatens to crush you. And as much as you want to let it every now and then, you sweep the idea aside by burying your nose into your work.

With a reminder that you have a few hours until you have to report to Jirou’s room for some gaming, Kaminari dismisses his still mildly sweaty self for a much needed shower.

----

You spent that night huddled between Jirou and Denki for a couple hours, immersed in the almost evenly matched brawling of Smash Ultimate and the tumultuous rollercoaster of a game that is Mario Kart, among other games. It felt nice to indulge in something fun for awhile, even more so surrounded by your friends, but before it went on for too long you excused yourself back to your room for the night.

That was the last time Denki and Jirou had seen you outside of class not hunched over a book or your computer, or training furiously at the gym. Needless to say, your absence from the group activities, and spaces outside your room in general - besides meals - quickly grew worrisome.

“Dude, I haven’t seen (y/n) out here like all week,” Kaminari frowns, “I get it’s finals almost, but she’s kinda pushing it, don’t you think?”

Jirou, after taking a drink from her water bottle, sits on the adjacent sofa. “Definitely. I tried dragging her out earlier but she was asleep at her desk.”

“Damn, dude. All she does is homework and study. I’m getting kinda worried about her.”

You might be what Denki considers an overachiever, but he’s never seen you this determined, except maybe during practical exams and of course during the many villain encounters the class has endured. But as for school work, you’re never this obsessed.

“We should try talking to her or something,” Jirou suggests, sharing in the blond’s concern for you.

“She’s so stubborn though. I tell her to take it easy all the time, she just won’t have it.”

“That’s not what I meant. Of course she’s not gonna listen if you tell her to take a break. I meant ask her why she’s so stressed in the first place. Maybe something else is bothering her.”

For some reason, the idea that something besides compulsion and maybe a little masochism is fueling your tireless work hadn’t occurred to him before.

Denki crosses his arms, “Ya think?”

It makes sense as he considers the idea. But what could be so compelling to keep you chained to your desk everyday? He isn’t sure, but he aims to find out.

----

You barely hear the knocking over the audio playing in your earbuds, the explanation of a scientific concept you find too abstract put on hold as you answer the door.

“Denki. You knocked,” you say, eyebrows hovering far above your eyes.

Your eyes. You look so tired. Denki is struck by the darkness encircling your usually bright (e/c) irises, now swimming with tired determination.

“I know,” he replies, his hand stroking the back of his head as he steps into your room, “I dunno why.”

The curtains are loose, completely shielding your room from any light that could spill in from the night sky, though it could surely use some; your table lamp is the only source of light in the dimly lit room. In the dark he can still make out the clothes and few other items littering the floor around you, probably accumulating from all the time you sank into your studies this week.

“I assume you’re here to tell me I need a break, but I already took one. I watched youtube for an hour or so,” you inform him, a tired smile on your lips.

His smile is weak, and you notice it. “Not bad.”

He’s too quiet.

“What’s wrong?”

A nervous chuckle falls from his lips, “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Then.. Why are you so quiet?”

The only times Denki ever acted this strange were after brushes with villains, and that time he was feeling insecure about his critical thinking on the field, so you know better than to believe nothing is bothering him.

“Ah.. guess I’m just tired. Aren’t you?”

“A little,” you confess, your fingers tugging at the hem of your t-shirt. “But I can’t stop now. I’ve gotten a lot done, but I still have lots to finish.”

“Dude,” your friend whines, and you sigh, already ready to protest his insistence that you’re pushing yourself too far. “I know you don’t wanna hear this, (y/n), but you really need to take a break. We haven’t even seen you out of your room since the other day, except for dinner.”

“Denki, I don’t have time for this..”

“I’m serious, (y/n). We’re getting worried about you. Not even just me and Jirou, but the others too.”

“Worried? I’m fine.”

Even you don’t sound so sure, your stare locked on anything that isn’t Denki.

He drags a hand down his face, groaning once again. Maybe his pestering is annoying, but enough is enough. He would rather risk you hating him for a little while than let you run yourself into the ground like you’ve been.

“(y/n), look. I get you’re driven and all, but it’s okay to take a break, you know?,”

“No, Denki, it’s not okay! It’s not chill, or cool, or fine! I have to pass - no, I have to ace these tests!”

Your outburst has him taken aback, and he places a hand on your shoulder, eyes like honey saturated with sincerity.

“Hey, hey. (y/n). They’re just tests, relax.”

“Relax”..? The word alone has you flying into a fit of rage. How could he possibly expect you to just relax, as if it’s easy, as if you can erase the glaring red numbers that flash through your mind any time your hands aren’t busy. As if the imaginary anvil hanging over your head will just disappear if you pretend it isn’t there. As if you can even dig yourself out of the mounds of paper you’re swimming in in the first place.

“They’re not, though! Why aren’t you getting that?! Maybe you don’t feel an urgency to do well, but I do, why is that wrong?”

Denki has never seen you this distressed before, and he only grows more alarmed by the way your eyes grow glassier every time you speak.

“It’s not wrong, (y/n).. But obsessing about it like this is. It’s not like you’re anywhere close to failing your classes, so why is this freaking you out so much?”

“Because it’s the only thing I have! If I don’t do well academically then --”

Before the rest can escape, you cut yourself off, halting the flood of words that threaten to break through your lips. Your wrap your arms around yourself, your fingers pressing firmly into your arms.

But Denki can’t forget what you’ve said. He has to know. Why are you so desperate to prepare for these finals?

Rather than try to make you look him in the eye, he steps into your line of sight again, urging you to finish your thought.

“Then what..?”

Half of your face is illuminated by the glow of your lamp and computer, a gleaming droplet rolling down the slope of your cheek. Your breaths stutter faintly. The silence feels thick, so gripping in the absence of your raised voice from just moments ago. The room’s energy might have diminished but the weight of your emotion clings to the air.

“T-then I.. don’t stand out at all,” you murmur, all the defensiveness from before drained from your voice.

‘(y/n)...’

His hand is raised as if reaching weakly out to you, but you turn your back to him.

“What are you talking about?..”

‘Isn’t it obvious?’

“My quirk isn’t really exciting, and my field work is fine but it’s not outstanding.. If I can’t ace every test, then there’s nothing exceptional about me at all. I’m just.. mediocre without my academics.”

And you struggle to even stand out then. Yaoyorozu, Iida, Deku.. even Bakugou. All of them are just as, maybe even more, focused on their grades and just as often share in your tendency to receive high marks. It’s not as if you want them to fail; you even admire their intelligence and diligence, but sometimes, sometimes it seems so unfair. They already have such amazing quirks, make such an impression whether they’re participating in something controlled like the Sports Festival or finding creative ways to elude villains. They already seem like heroes. Why can’t you have just one moment to feel that capable, even if your moment is confined to the classroom?

“(y/n).. Hey, that’s not true. You’ve got it all wrong. There’s tons of stuff about you that stands out.”

By now your shoulders are shaking, every drop of frustration and exhaustion you locked away to be able to focus on your studies over the week seeping out of you at once.

“Like what, that I’m the least interesting student in the class?”

Denki’s chest stirs with a guilt-like feeling. How could you think this way? How could all this fear and insecurity you’ve been carrying have slipped past him? Quirk aside, he isn’t the brightest, but he thought he at least knew you well enough to notice when something is wrong.

He moves in front of you, and seeing you have your head lowered, he crouches before you so his face is in sight.

“No. Like how great you are at thinking on your feet. And how much you trust other people, instead of just taking the reigns every time you’re working with them. And all the creative ways you use your quirk. I’d never be able to think up stuff like that if I were you. Hell, I couldn’t even think of a way around the obstacles of my quirk without some help.”

“But.. what if my quirk just isn’t special enough?..”

“Hey. I get it. Sometimes it can feel like the rest of us fade into the background when you look at people like Bakugou or Todoroki. They seem like they’re lightyears away from us sometimes, and it can be kind of a downer. But just look at all the times relying on their quirk wasn’t even enough.”

“Yeah.. I guess so.”

He continues.

“I mean, yeah, quirks are pretty important, and powerful ones get all the attention. But if the only thing you have going for you is your quirk, I dunno, I doubt you’re gonna get very far. Don’t you think? I mean maybe if I was as smart as you I’d have a lot more brain cells left after using my quirk for a long period of time,” he jokes, tender smile deepening when you crack a laugh of your own.

“I guess I’m trying to say.. Your quirk is just as cool as anyone else’s, but it only is because you made it that way. You don’t have to ace every test to stand out, because you already shine without that. But it’s not like you even have to try that hard to do well, right? So just.. Keep being you.”

“I.. shine?”

“Even without your quirk, or your good grades,” he nods, rising to his feet, “You’re already awesome without all that.”

Without warning, your arms are wrapped tightly around him, your face buried into his shoulder, dampening his shirt somewhat as the tears you were suppressing flow free - not that he cares. You could blow your nose with this shirt and he wouldn’t mind if it meant he got to feel you like this. With the arm not trapped in your embrace, he squeezes you closer.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” you mumble into his shoulder.

“It’s okay. You’re kinda cute when you’re mad anyway,” he grins, half expecting you to shoot him a playful glare, but you stay nestled in the fabric of his t-shirt instead. “So you promise you’re gonna slow down?”

You can’t remember the last time you felt this calm. You don’t want to let him go, not any time soon. Despite how close you’ve become, you had never hugged Denki for this long, but now, as he sways you lightly right to left, you can’t imagine going long without it.

“I’ll try,” you nod, face flushed as you come down from your emotional high, “Could we maybe.. watch a movie together? I’m tired of studying for tonight.”

“‘Course. I’ll get my laptop, it’s bigger.”

#denki kaminari x reader #denki x reader #denki fluff #denki angst #bnha fluff #bnha angst #bnha fanfic #denki kaminari #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha imagine #x reader #reader insert

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bellmaria · 3 years

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How to Enhance your Cannabis High?

Recreational cannabis users smoke cannabis specifically for that high that takes their mind off stressful things. Indeed, cannabis helps you relax and stop thinking about things you have no control over. But, pretty soon, there might be a day when you don’t feel the same even after smoking or ingesting cannabis.

And, this happens for a variety of reasons. But, whatever they may be, you’ll wonder why you aren’t feeling the same with cannabis anymore. Or, perhaps you want to elevate the high? Regardless of your reasons, this article will teach you how to enhance your cannabis high.

Eat foods high in terpenes found in cannabis

Terpenes are nothing but the essential oils found in cannabis plants. While some terpenes like Myrcene are found in fruits like Mango, there are many terpenes that are unique only to cannabis plants.

So, what does this have to do with enhancing your high, you ask? Well, try eating a mango before you smoke cannabis. Do the same even if you’re ingesting cannabis edibles, and you’ll be amazed with the results.

Myrcene also contributes to the fragrance of the mango and enters the bloodstream as soon as you consume cannabis. In fact, the terpenes will enhance the THC even if you eat mangoes after smoking. You can also eat grapefruits and pineapples among many other fruits to elevate your experience since they contain terpenes that are present in marijuana too.

Change your habits

Over a period of time, you will naturally develop a habit of smoking cannabis at a particular time. For instance, if you love smoking after having dinner, you’re going to continue doing that for a long time. If you don’t change that habit, your high may not be the same you used to experience earlier.

Thus, to fix this problem, simply change your timing of indulging in cannabis at least for a little while. This will help you get back to track and enjoy marijuana a lot more than you used to do earlier.

Take a break

Some people panic when they completely stop getting affected by marijuana. No matter how much you ingest or smoke cannabis, sometimes it can be difficult to feel the high. There could be several reasons why it happens, but the most common reason is that you’ve simply developed a tolerance to cannabis.

The more you smoke, the more cannabinoids are released in your bloodstream and your body gets adjusted to it. Ever heard of the fact that the body can get adjusted to medications if you abuse it a tad too much? Yep, it’s the same with cannabis too. If you’re a chronic user that smokes several times a day and continues to do so 24/7, there will be a period of time when you’ll stop feeling anything even if you consume lots of marijuana.

To counter this problem, simply take a break. Once the THC exits your system, you can get back to cannabis again. Now, how long does it take for the THC to leave the system, you ask? Well, that depends. If you’re an occasional user, you can wait for about 10 days for your body to reset and receive the cannabinoids. However, if you’re a chronic user, you will need to wait for at least a month for the THC to completely drain out of your system.

THC also leaves the body through sweat and urine. Therefore, drink lots of water and you will naturally create a setup where all the THC is eliminated from your body slowly.

Take more hits

You’ve probably heard your friends telling you to take a puff and hold it inside. The more you hold it in, the better the high, right? Unfortunately, that’s wrong. Not only will you hurt your lungs by doing that, but you will also feel sore when you hold it in for too long.

So, what should I do to enhance my high? You just smoke more. Yes, it’s that simple. Point is that the body absorbs the THC within seconds of taking a puff. Even if you hold the smoke in, it doesn’t do much. Thus, take small puffs and enjoy your joint rather than taking bigger puffs that do more harm than good.

If you smoke more, you’ll obviously feel an intense high, but the key is to not overdo it. The moment you feel it’s too much – put that joint down. There’s a fine line between feeling happy while you’re high and going crazy when it’s too much. Maintain that difference and you’ll do good.

Change the way you indulge in cannabis

While some people enjoy smoking cannabis, others love smoking through bongs. Pretty soon, it becomes a habit and you continue to smoke only joints or bongs without shifting at all. Although it certainly makes you feel good because it’s your style of enjoying marijuana, you get so used to it after a while that you stop getting high.

This is very similar to how you stop sensing anything when you overload your body with THC. Your body adjusts to it and you don’t feel that high you love anymore. Similarly, if you’re going to continue smoking only through a bong forever, you may not enjoy it after a while.

To prevent this and also enhance your high, try shifting between different methods. For example, if you smoke a joint today, try smoking a bong the next day. You can also enjoy cannabis edibles to make sure that you don’t get adjusted to one particular style.

Also, bongs can hurt your throat at times simply because they are too intense. Most people smoking through bongs tend to cough a lot. And, that’s because the hits are a tad too harsh. Moreover, the heat is too much for the throat. Thus, use ice cubes in your bong so that the hits are smoother.

Try using potent stuff

It can be very boring to only smoke buds all the time. Although traditional buds are enjoyable, there’s so much cannabis can actually offer. And, this doesn’t apply only to recreational users because potent products also help those that rely on cannabis medically. For example, if you’re using THC to get rid of pain, it makes sense to use a potent product like a rosin or shatter to get that shot of THC.

If you’re somehow not interested in trying them or don’t have access to exotic products, you can try strains that are high in THC. Today, there are so many strains to choose from that you’ll be spoiled for choices. Let’s talk about Gorilla Glue from our own list of strains, for instance. With a whopping 23-25% THC, she will make you much more high than you can ever imagine.

A single hit of a potent strain is enough. This is one surefire way to make sure that you’re as high as a kite. Dabbing is another method that can make you high. You could also grow the plants at home and create your own rosin or even shatter so you’re in total control of what you’re actually smoking.

And, there are ways to enjoy cannabis without any harmful side effects. You probably know that a joint also contains carcinogens that are present in cigarettes. If that’s your cause of concern, shift to vaping. Not only vaping increase your high, but it also lets you do it with your peace of mind intact.

Other than recreational use cannabis is also used for medical purposes. You can visit the medical marijuana dispensaries in Colorado Springs to know more about the medical uses of cannabis.

#medical #marijuana #cannabis #weed #dispensary #benefits

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fortheloveoflizards · 4 years

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Headcanons

Wings of Fire Dragon Culture - Mating and Bonding

Skywings: As Skywings are quite gifted in the vocal area, many like to woo their beloved with sonnets, poems and serenades, in addition to the expected aerial displays. Most Skywings don’t choose to mate for life, though, so rather than going through that whole complex ritual just to lay eggs (this is also partly thanks to the war), the tribe took to holding a monthly mating ceremony, absent of all that romantic fluff. Queen Ruby is working towards reintegrating the older Skywing customs in the hopes of cementing to her subjects that the war is truly over. Skywing couples tend to enjoy shared caves and often hunt together, however the task of raising dragonets lies primarily with the mother.

Mudwings: Displays of strength and power are the most common courting technique for Mudwings, as well as showing the ability to work well as a team. Mudwing couples looking to mate permanently may even take each other’s place within their troop for a short time, both to prove to their intended and their intended’s sibs that they are a capable mate. Mated couples are known to share mudbaths, helping lather mud on to each other and massaging scales etc (the scene in The Dragonet Prophecy where Peril helps Clay with his wounds by pouring mud on him would be considered very intimate by Mudwing standards). The siblings of dragons that do mate for life tend to combine to form one big troop as a show of support.

Sandwings: Despite the common belief among most dragons, Sandwings actually mate for life nine times out of ten, and courting can be anything from gifts of treasure, music or food to den building to scavenger hunts - and by that I mean a set of tasks chosen by the dragon being courted, not hunting down scavengers). Sandwing parents are generally pretty protective of their dragonets until around the age of three, at which point the dragonet can either choose to strike out on their own or stay with their parents, essentially paying rent through helping care for any other dragonets, hunting and other manual labour.

Seawings: Another tribe that mates for life, with colourful and intense courting rituals comprised of underwater displays, reef arrangements and jewellery making(typically a shared activity). Many mated couples try to lay as many eggs as passible, as Seawing eggs are among the least likely out of all the tribes to survive hatching; eggs go into shared hatcheries set up predominantly on reefs near heat vents, and neither parent typically has anything to do with the egg until it hatches. At which point one parent is present in order to visually imprint upon the dragonet. Things obviously work differently with the royal family, as the parents are usually away performing their duties. Therefore, each hatching is assigned an attendant, to be present during the birth and to act as a pseudo-parent for the dragonets.

Rainwings: This tribe doesn’t typically mate for life, but when they do they demonstrate undying respect and loyalty(as seen with Mangrove and Orchid). Rainwings also don’t put much effort into impressing potential mates, mostly food, flowers and lots of compliments. As seen in the books, Rainwings shared one big hatchery until very recently, and the whole tribe would care for dragonets as a whole; this is still mostly true - the tribe does share responsibility for all dragonets - but the hatchery is guarded far more carefully and Queen Glory has started construction of both a second hatchery for the Nightwing tribe and a royal hatchery(much smaller than both previously mentioned).

Nightwings: Nightwings place high value on the decision to mate for life, with intricate handcrafted jewellery and most dragons even bothering to wrap gifts if they want a good reception. There is a considerable amount of courting to be had before any mating, for life or otherwise, as a Nightwing wants to be sure of the competence of her mate before having eggs with him. Exchanging romantic letters and poems is not common among the older members of the tribe, although younger dragons may indulge in light wooing whilst caught in the flutters of new love.

Icewings: They have the most complicated courting rituals of all the tribes, as all Icewings mate for life and place VERY high expectations on mated couples to remain loyal and present a united front. Extravagant gifts, complex aerial displays and many handcrafted goods are to be expected of prospective mates, as well as participation in a strange game of cat and mouse, in which the Icewing hoping to woo another is expected to pursue her avidly, and to put up with intense animosity, as she will not make it easy for him; this courting method can take anywhere from a several weeks to years, and the responsibility is typically upon the male(or otherwise socially weaker of the two) to initiate this process, though the female(or more socially powerful) can elude to wanting the game to start. Icewing parents raise their own dragonets until their seventh birthday, at which point they cut off almost all contact unless it’s official or otherwise rank dictated. Adult Icewings act as mentors to all dragonets, regardless of rank or relation.

Silkwings: The basic template for a Silkwing courting ritual is for the would-be mate to construct as elaborate of a cocoon like nest as they can and decorate it with sweet flowers and line it with other soft things. Wing displays akin to that of a peacock are also common. Silkwings usually mated for life, choosing their potential mate before metamorphosis, however under Hivewing rule, more and more Silkwings have been opting for simply laying as many eggs as possible.

Hivewings: Whether more dragons prefer mating for life over for the purpose of laying eggs within the Hivewing tribe changes from hive to hive, but the majority prefer to simply breed rather than going through some complicated maze of flirting and gift giving. Those who do mate for life generally choose to exchange sweets and flowers if anything, and spend as much time together as possible.

Leafwings: Another divided statistic, as the two halves of the tribe share very different view; “Sapwings” like to mate for life, sharing gardening tips and designing elaborate plant arrangements for prospective partners, while “Poisonwings” prefer to just lay eggs and move on, as their focus is primarily on the resistance and defending their forests.

This is another of those ideas my brain couldn’t let go of, so I had no trouble deciding what should be next. I’m also planning to make a follow up for this regarding life mating ceremonies, because a good friend of my family just got married and I’m in the mood for luuuurve! I’ll also probably make a post regarding my ideas about how Mudwing troops go about combining following their sibs’ decision. Probably. Maybe. I dunno, depends on if people show interest in this.

#Wings of Fire #Headcanons #Pyrrhia #Pantala #Skywings #Mudwings #Sandwings #Seawings #Rainwings #Nightwings #Icewings #Silkwings #Hivewings #Leafwings #dragon culture #mating #bonding #big oof y'all

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kadeu · 4 years

Photo

Accepted — Alis Nazarian

♣️ Alis Nazarian aka. Vesper looks like Angela Sarafyan (actor) ♣️ She was born August 5th, 1869; making her 150 years old but she appears 37 ♣️ This Shifter is Pansexual and an Ace of Clubs ♣️ She is the Owner of Boxing Clubs

Biography

They regarded her with pity.

For valid reasons, of course. To be born to low ranking parents—a 1 of Clubs and 2 of Clubs respectively—was one thing, but for said individuals to remain distant, burdened by their own string of issues that they couldn’t care for each other, for her, was another matter entirely.

Alis Nazarian served as the perfect example of how one’s pedigree mattered little in the scheme of things. Her father’s former status as a formidable Ace and mother’s position as ruthless Queen were a distant memory; something akin to a myth, a tale drummed up by intoxicated patrons over one too many. A once fearsome reputation ultimately lay in ruins, courtesy of destructive habits, and she was the unfortunate victim of their poor choices.

But it wasn’t in her nature to dwell over the details.

There was no point in criticising her father’s penchant for Chrono and mother’s fascination with the gambling scene. No point in wondering just who would guide her along the shifter path, some day, when they were busy with other pressing… matters.

As easy as it might have been to pin her suffering on the pair, she couldn’t find it in herself to indulge in such. The only viable choice was to proceed and push through, regardless of the difficulties associated with it. Sure, the hardships were aplenty, and it would be a blatant lie to say that the frustration hadn’t driven her up the wall on multiple occasions— but it could’ve been worse.

And so, she did what she did best in situations such as these when the odds were heavily stacked against her: survive.

In the hands of distant relatives, family friends, or anyone kind enough to take her in on a temporary basis, she was raised among a bevy of both familiar and unfamiliar faces. Armed with a razor sharp wit and keen eye, Alis seamlessly adapted to each environment she was presented with. Not even subpar sleeping arrangements or measly meals could bring her to tears—in public, at least. Humour quickly became a source of comfort. It was far easier to joke than worry over the fact that she’d eventually have to figure her own way out. Alone, in a society that had it out for her.

What exactly was a girl meant to do in this instance? Sit back and wait for the end? Allow the other Clubs to trample right over her when she was down and almost out like this? Well.

Ask her and Alis would swear that she hadn’t meant to steal that day. Promise. The thought of dipping her hands into the pockets of a highranker was absurd. No one had to tell her twice. Consequences were deadly for someone lowly like her, except the possibility of hitting gold—perhaps in the literal sense—gave her the incentive to give it a go. Just for today, anyway. Better to be taken down on a high than wither away like many had assumed she would.

What she hadn’t expected, however, was to be caught red handed. More specifically, to come face to face with a person who apparently knew her father far better than she did. Even knew her, for that matter.

Huh. It was a goddamn joke that not even Alis could laugh at.

Boris Kuznetsov, he’d introduced himself as over a meal later on. A childhood friend of her father’s, a training partner, a close confidante; the poor soul who’d personally witnessed his demise and didn’t want the same for her. Or so he claimed. Alis barely took note when the abundance of food before her was considered significantly more interesting than whatever he chose to ramble on about at the very moment.

It was a sight that prompted the man to ultimately take her under his wing. Either to keep her off the streets and give her the chance to live, or to restore honour to her family name once more. Maybe both.

In a matter of days, Alis finally understood the very definition of stability: a roof over her head, never-ending meals, proper clothing. There was no risk of having everything snatched from right under her here; a far cry from what she was usually accustomed to. It was the kind of life she’d long been deprived of, yet a life that could be hers, so long as she was willing to, quite literally, fight for it. And was she? Was a reckless street kid capable of making it to the top? Boris thought so.

Whereas he was stern and implemented a strict training regimen as preparation—but also to keep in her line— she was fond of bending said rules when possible. Whereas he emphasized the importance of upholding tradition, she opted to break it and put on her own unique spin on it, instead. And when he’d requested that she get her shit together and actually take him seriously, Alis would pretend to deviate for the sole purpose of hearing him grumble angrily in his mother tongue—only to turn around and prove that she’d excelled in everything he’d taught her so far.

Let it be known she’d developed a soft spot for the old man and would vow to work hard in his name, shit talking and all.

To put it simply, the first few fights didn’t go to plan. Battered, bruised, and brandishing a new scar; her friends considered it an absolute miracle she was still alive by the end, let alone capable of cracking a joke about having her ass handed to her. Trust Alis to see the lighter side when others (see: Boris, always Boris) did not. Although the outcome was widely viewed as a disappointment, especially when her parents were capable of so much more, there was no denying that she was one to be watched.

Unconventional in her use of weaponry, and unpredictable in her movements; it was startlingly clear that the young woman had all the makings of someone great. Pair that off with a never say die attitude, and her potential would become a popular topic of conversation among the masses. It was only a matter of time until Boris honed her in and polished her up until she emerged gleaming, glittering. Unstoppable.

Whoever said her ascension through the ranks was an easy one had no idea. Not one. The years were marred by unexpected losses, in addition to accumulating a steady amount of injuries; some of which would leave Alis stranded on the sidelines. No one made mention of the mental toll involved in going from Jack to Queen to King, nor the fear in having the hard work fall apart in its final stages. How a poorly timed move could unravel everything achieved so far, leaving no other choice but to start over, with no guarantee of returning to where they’d left off.

The road to Ace hasn’t been pretty. Alis wouldn’t hesitate to vouch for that, pointing to her numerous battle scars as proof of how much she’s had to endure. Plenty has been lost, although just as many has been gained. She isn’t the type to brag of her achievements and prefers to remain humble, biting her tongue against the compliments regarding her fancy ranking.

But she’s done it. Pulled off the impossible, and by God, no one is going to take it away from her that easy.

Not without a damn good fight, at least.

Personality

At first glance, it would be easy to assume Alis Nazarian was anything but the Ace. Often caught in the midst of some farfetched tale that may or may not be true, she’s often regarded as unthreatening by many at The Boxing Club. A complete jackass, in fact, by those closest to her. Her laidback nature, along with her fondness for a good time, tends to distract others from straying too far, and instead encourages them to stay close, just to see what kind of entertainment she’d drag them along to.

The faction and ranking system holds little to no importance to her. Having risen from the bottom herself, Alis doesn’t deem it fair to judge people according to their ranking, and chooses to rely on interactions when determining whether someone is worthy of her attention. She finds grudges utterly draining, petty conflict even more-so; thus, she won’t outwardly express her displeasure towards certain individuals when it’s perceived to be a waste of time and energy.

Saying that, Alis is capable of switching to deadly in an instant. Anyone who’s seen the woman in action is well aware how ruthless she can be when the situation calls for it. Her tolerance for mayhem is high, except if a person has chosen to cross her, time and time again, for the sake of riling her up, she will see to it that they never do so again via a personally delivered and violent message. All because she’s relaxed, doesn’t mean she should be messed with.

Congratulations Bee your app has been accepted and your personalized plot drop will be sent to you soon

Please follow and welcome @alisnaz to Kadeu!

#follow;#accepted;

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oscararcane · 4 years

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Pranks

I wrote this month ago, but never posted it. Today is as good as any to do so, I suppose. So have this indulgent lil’ Maegar Varn/General fic.

Writing diplomatic letters, reading treasury reports, sitting during long hearings in the throne room of his rustic fort… It had been a long and not-so-enjoyable day for Maegar Varn. But that was baroning for you, in the eloquent words of his Treasurer. Therefore taking a relaxing bath was quite welcome in this automnal evening. Not to mention how relieving it was to soak in hot water after a cold day. The season was getting cooler every day and the cold winds tended to squeeze through the wooden plank of his makeshift castle, making every room uncomfortably chilly.

The baron closed his eyes and sighed with content when he heard a tell-tale jingling. His body tensed up and his eyelids shot open.

- Sahira?

Maegar looked intently towards the screen that separated the bathtub from the rest of his bedroom, looking for a familiar shadow. Nothing. Yet he could have sworn it was the sound of the Tiefling’s jewellery he just recognized. Despite her agility, the General was not entirely discreet. Part of it was by design. She was an adept of the “hiding in plain sight” technique. The other part was, of course, because of the ridiculous amount of necklaces, earrings and bracelets she covered herself with. Most people did not pay too much attention to it, but that light tinkling that accompanied Sahira’s every movements had become a familiar signature to Maegar’s ears. A comforting sound that reminded him a very good friend was here with him.

But lately the persisting noise had become a little unnerving.

The Varnling Host commander stood up and grabbed a towel, tying it around his waist. Stepping out of the bath, he walked around the screen in a couple long strides. His eyes darted around, looking for the Tiefling. She was not here. His eyes lingered on the clear, undisturbed sheets of his bed. His clothes were not here either.

- Oh for the love of…

Maegar pushed out a long exasperated sigh and opened the door of the bedroom, walking out in nothing but the immaculate piece of cloth hanging from his waist. He had reached the middle of the main hall when the heavy double doors cracked open, letting Cephal and the cool evening air slide in. When he saw the preoccupied expression on the wizard’s face, Maegar considered turning around and getting some dirty clothes to put on. Part of him wanted to avoid an argument. The other part was always up for a good fight.

Cephal lifted his eyes from some paperwork and stared at Maegar. Annoyance immediatly made his nostrils flare.

- And why, pray tell, are you naked? - I’m wearing a towel, Maegar answered just to contradict him.

Cephal glared.

- Sahira stole my clothes, the Baron yielded.

An all too familiar anger lit up in the wizard’s eyes. But for once it was not directed at Maegar.

- Another one of her pranks? Cephal snapped. This is getting out of hands! - This is nothing new, she always liked joking around to cheer up the crew.

It was a bit of a lie, Maegar was aware of that. Sahira did always like pulling pranks. It sure did cheer up the Varnling Host many times. But she never did them so often as of late and she used to choose a variety of victims. Now Maegar was systematically the butt of the joke. Something was going on and the Baron could not figure out what. This did not escape his perceptive Regent who narrowed his eyes at him.

- Always eager to defend her, aren’t you?

Maegar felt his face flushing despite the cold. He did not let it rattle his confidence and grinned.

- Aren’t we all?

The baron could have sworn the shadow of a smile stretched the wizard’s thin lips.

- Nevertheless, this is getting disruptive. You need to talk some sense into her, Cephal concluded.

He walked past Maegar, the conversation over as far as he was concerned.

The Varnling Host commander took a sharp breath in and walked out the door into the cold fall evening. Nearly naked.

A shiver ran down Maegar’s spine as he walked to the nearest guard. The young man - a new recruit - stared at him, his eyes wide open in shock.

- You! The Baron called out. Have you seen the general?

The guard did his best to not peer at Maegar’s ludicrous get-up.

- Yes, y-your Grace! She ran towards the tavern I think. There was a bundle of… something in her arms and she was huh… cackling? - Cackling, huh? Thank you, boy.

Maegar patted the young man on the shoulder and started to walk briskly towards the small town. As he was stepping in the freezing water of the river, crossing the shallows to reach the other bank, he considered his stupidity. He should really have put something on. But at this point turning back to the fort felt just as stupid. At least Sahira would get a good laugh out of this.

The Baron made his way through town, his wet bare feet amassing mud, ignoring the confused whispers and stares of his subjects. The key was to keep appearing confident, pretending that walking half naked on the streets was perfectly normal. Maegar was sure he was not convincing anyone, but at least his dignity was mostly intact.

Finally he stopped in front of the tavern. A burst of laughter drew his attention upwards. Sahira was standing on the roof of the building, doubling over in a fit of hilarity. Maegar put his fists on his waist in an authoritarian pose, but could not help but smile.

- You didn’t even put any boots on! The Tiefling managed to say in-between two giggles.

Now a couple snickers could be heard among the crowd, even though they did their best to not look like they were making fun of their Baron.

- I would very much appreciate if you gave my clothes back, General, Maegar declared loudly to cover the sound of Sahira’s laughter.

After a couple more chuckles, the Tiefling regained a bit of control. She looked down at the pile of dark cloth she was holding in her arms.

- Why don’t you, huh… come and get them, your Grace?

Maegar could not see the twinkle in her eyes from where he stood but he could imagine it from her mischevious tone. The Baron did not waste a second protesting and rubbing his hands, looked for the best spot to climb the tavern’s walls. His eyes stopped on a stack of barrels. Taking a running start, he climbed the structure and in a few light jumps, he reached the roof of the tavern. From the corner of his eye, he saw Sahira getting ready to flee and jump on the next building. A pretty risky move, but Maegar knew she could do it. Running as fast as he could with a towel barely holding onto his waist, he caught up to her and grabbed her waist before she could jump. Taken by surprise, Sahira dropped Maegar’s clothes which floated in the wind before reaching the muddy ground.

- Oh no, your clothes, she said, not sounding sorry in the least.

Maegar sighed as he released the giggling Tiefling.

- I guess you’ll have to stay half-naked for a while now, she added turning a cheerful glance towards him.

As the setting sun hit her strange yellow eyes, her slit-shaped pupils narrowed. An uncomfortable vision for most people at first, but one Maegar was used to. He grinned back at her.

- If I’m freezing to death, it’ll be on you. - Don’t worry, your Grace, I’ll make sure it won’t happen, Sahira replied while winking at him.

There it was. The flirting. It did not happen constantly, but it kept coming back. The Tiefling did not flirt exclusively with him and it probably did not mean anything. Just a bit of fun. But each time, Maegar felt something twisting in his gut.

The slight pause before his answer was long enough to be noticed but short enough to seem meaningless. Or so he hoped.

- Then let’s go find a nice fireplace to sit nearby, shall we?

Once again he pretended to be oblivious. He knew the game, he knew how to flirt back and joke around. Sahira probably had seen him do it before, with other women. It was unlikely he was fooling her, but if it affected her, she did not show it.

- And for the love of Shelyn, stop calling me your Grace, Maegar added as they climbed down the tavern’s walls. - Yes, sir! Sahira chuckled.

Under the astonished stares of the tavern’s clientele, the Baron retightened his towel around his waist and took a sit at the table nearest to the fireplace. Meanwhile the general grabbed a chair. Not to sit on it, oh no. It was not her style. Instead she stepped on it, settling herself nonchalantly on the table, one foot resting on the seat of the chair while the other sat upon its back. It was well-known among the Varnling Host as “Sahira’s chair problem”. She always found creative ways to never sit properly on one. Planting her hands behind her, she leaned backwards and looked down at Maegar from her elevated vantage point. The Tiefling smiled warmly.

- Better?

Looking up at her, Maegar grinned back at her.

- A lot. Drinks? - You pay. I’m broke. - You keep saying that, but it’s been almost two years since you bought that potion.

Sahira shrugged, looking away.

- I don’t have a reason to save money anymore, so I spend it as soon as I get it.

Maegar smiled softly.

- No settling down for our dashing bard?

He knew he was treading on a dangerous path, so he took care to do it as gently as possible. Sahira darted her eyes towards him for a second. It was enough for him to see her discomfort.

- We’ve already settled down, remember? I have food, I have this room up there. I don’t need anything else.

The baron looked down at his hands. He was not sure what he expected, really. Sahira was an adventurer at heart. Building a home, taking roots, living an ordinary life was not for her. Still, she stayed when Maegar acquired Varnhold and accepted the charge of General. If the Varnling Host commander kept bringing the subject up, it was because he feared Sahira would just get up and leave someday, bored with all this settling down. Deep down, he had a feeling the recent increase in pranks might be related to this problem.

- Nothing money can buy anyway. - What?

Maegar lifted his head suddenly, surprised. Sahira was looking at him again, a soft smile on her lips, something like melancholy shining in her eyes. The expression faded quickly, replaced by her usual mischevious grin.

- Deep in thought, are we? What has the handsome Baron so distracted?

The flirting again. This time Maegar had to clear his throat to prevent his voice from sounding a bit too hoarse, flushing slightly.

- Sahira, we need to talk.

The Tiefling winced.

- I don’t like the sound of that...

Instinctively, the Baron gently grabbed her wrist, as if afraid she would run away. She just might, he thought. It would not have been the first time.

- Listen… You know I love your pranks. But don’t you think you’ve gone a little overboard lately? Not to mention you could pick a few other targets. Cephal might be in need of one...

Sahira scoffed.

- These need to be fun for me too, you know. And Cephal is anything but fun to prank. What are you complaining about? Without me, you would be buried in paperwork all day and never see the sun.

Maegar sighed. Leaning back, his hand slid from her wrist to rest on the top of her hand. Getting the bard to talk was a challenge. She always prefered roundabout ways of communication.

- I have a lot to worry about, Sahira. Running a barony is not going to be fun every day. If on top of that I have to worry about the next thing you’re going to pull on me… This is getting stressful.

Even from the light touch of her hand he could tell her whole body tensed up.

- Maegar… I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to hurt you. I’ll stop the pranks, I promise.

She started leaning forward. She was ready to bolt. Maegar squeezed her hand to stop her.

- I just want to know what’s going on. Why are you doing this?

Sahira slowly settled back into her initial position, looking straight in front of her. Her mouth kept opening and closing. Maegar tried to help.

- Are you… bored? - Gods no!

Ah. Well so much for that intuition.

- Recruiting and training guards, organizing patrols, new problems every day… The Tiefling continued. I have plenty to do. It’s just that… You’ve been busy too.

Sahira glanced carefully at him. He tried to look as encouraging as possible.

- When I try to find you, you’re either receiving people in the throne room or writing letters or reading reports… I never get to just chat with you anymore. When we travelled with the company, we were always together. We didn’t even need to talk that much because we could see each other all day long. Going from that to having a hard time crossing path… I guess I’ve been missing you. The pranks were a way to get you to interact with me, I suppose.

Maegar slowly blinked at her. It was not what he expected and he felt like a fool. Taking a moment to absorb the information, he started mechanically brushing Sahira’s knuckles with his thumb. Stopping as soon as he realized it, he looked up at her.

- I’m sorry… I didn’t realize. But I should have. We can fix this. What do you say we set up a weekly evening just to hang out? No baroning, just enjoying each other’s company.

The Tiefling smiled down at him.

- I’d like that.

#pathfinder kingmaker #varnhold's lot #maegar varn #writing

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