#or insistent that he has a southern one but like nowhere has it been said in the books that he has one

[irithnova]

I LOVE your Mongolia hcs. Looking back at some Mongolia art, I was always confused why Mongolia is always drawn much older than Russia. Isn’t Russia supposed to be older as a country??? Mongolia appeared in the 13th century and Russia in 10th?

Ok so I personally headcanon Mongolia to be an old as f*** man LMAO. Not as old as as China or India or Persia but but old that other nations look at him and put him in the same kind of category.

It's not as if Mongolian people sprang up out of nowhere when Genghis Khan came along. Mongolian people and their predecessors have been there for a while. Albeit they were fragmented before Genghis came along and united the Mongol tribes.

I think that Mongolia existing before this, even way before this makes sense (in my personal headcanon). I will touch upon the predestination hetalia theory later on in this God-forsaken essay. For now, this is a more simple example. Aph Prussia is still a character/"alive" despite Prussia as a state/nation no longer existing. So, in hetalia, a nation rep can exist without the nation/state itself actually existing. Perhaps more of a representation of that ethnic group?

Coming back to what I said about how its not like Mongolian people sprung up out of nowhere in the 13th century. I also think the same could be said for Mongolia himself. Many different nomadic groups lived in/ruled over Mongolia since Ancient times, and I like to think Mongolia lived through a lot of this (but he cannot remember a lot of his very early life, will get onto why later).

According to the introduction of the secret history of the Mongols, the Mongols were a small nomadic tribe that lived in Mongolia along with the Unggirads, Kereyids, Naimans, Tayichiuds and the Merkids. The Mongols were among one of the many nomadic groups traveling around this area in the 10th century. Indeed, I do recall reading that there were Chinese records calling the Mongols by their name from the 9/10th century?

So, in this instance, you could argue that Russia and Mongolia are around the same age. I’ve seen some people accept this as their personal headcanon, and it makes quite an interesting dynamic!

However, I personally like to go back even further.

Now I understand that the argument of X didn't spring up out of nowhere it's always existed can only hold up for so long. So I do hope my argument justifying why Mongolia is an old man doesn't come across this way.

Way before Mongols, there was the Xiongnu. I’ll give a simplified run down of what happened with them. The Xiongnu empire emerged in 209 BC however fell apart in the 4th century AD.

As I have stated before, many different ethnic groups ruled over and lived in Mongolia since Ancient times. However the establishment of the Xiongnu empire is what marked the beginning of statehood on Mongolian territory.

Side note: I am aware that the ethnicity of the Xiongnu has been widely contested and hypothesised among scholars and historians. There are quite a few scholars who insist on the Xiongnu being of Mongolic origin. For hetalias sake, I’ll accept them as Mongolic. Remember, I am not a historian, this is for hetalia purposes.

By 48 AD, the Xiongnu were weakened and were divided into Northern and Southern parts. The Northern Xiongnu migrating to the West and creating what was known as the Hunnic empire.

The Xiongnu, now weakened, meant that the Xianbei could come back to bite them in their asses. The Xianbei were the Northern branch of the Donghu, a people who were conquered/subjugated by the Xiongnu, one of the first in fact. The Donghu were a proto-Mongolic group that Chinese historians recorded as existing as early as the 4th century BC.

From then on, different factions/branches of the Xianbei would go on to consolidate their power in Mongolia as well as Central/Northern Asia. For example, the Tuoba established the Tuoba Wei empire and ruled over Northern China from 386 AD-535 AD. Another branch off of the Xianbei, the Rourans, established a nomadic empire in this area too.

I’ve already talked about how scholars/historians have contested the ethnic background of the Xiongnu. It is the same with the Xianbei, but less so. Many historians agree on the fact that they were Mongolic/spoke a Mongolic language with Turkic influences. For hetalias sake and for simplicitys sake, I will accept them as Mongolic.

I like to think that both the Xiongnu and the Xianbei were Mongolic (not without Turkic influence) and were major predecessors to the Mongolia we all know and love today. However let me just say, that nation family trees are very complicated, and nations are not born in the traditional sense of two parents, so me saying that these two were major predecessors isn’t me trying to pin them as like. His dad’s or something. A new nation or representative of a nation can be “born” for a plethora of reasons.

I would like to get onto the subject of pre-destination in hetalia as I feel like it is relevant to this part of my essay where I will slowly begin to justify why I believe Mongolia is old.

If a (potential) successor/successors emerge from a nation, or combination of nations, does this mean that the previous nations fate is already set in stone? That their demise was destined to happen?

It’s not a secret that a successor can exist at the same time as their predecessor, even long before the predecessor is weakening. For example, Hima released official art of Ancient Egypt holding a much younger “modern” Egypt. In addition, there’s lots of fanart of mama Britannia with little England, so successors co-existing with their predecessors seems to be something that it widely accepted in the hetalia fandom.

My own view on the predestination hetalia theory is mixed but largely positive. I believe that not all new potential successors who emerge will be the true successor in the end. They could just be smaller, failed states who won’t last very long. And considering the history of the world I’m sure there were a lot of these.

But. When it comes to the true successors, the ones who come out on top, and who emerge the most stable/prevalent/powerful? I personally believe that they can crop up long before they get to that powerful state, and again, can co-exist with their predecessors, even if the predecessors are not weakened yet. And considering how powerful the Mongol Empire was, how it overshadows all previous steppe Empires, and the fact that Mongolia is still around today? You can guess where this is going.

Some scholars speculate that the intermarriage between Xiongnu and Xianbei may have been the genesis of modern (?) Mongolians. Indeed, the Xianbei, after kicking the Xiongnu’s asses, encouraged intermarriage between themselves and the Xiongnu, even with the Chinese. However Xianbei nobility was restricted to only Xiongnu in terms of intermarriage.

Furthermore, it is the consensus of most historians that the Mongols of Genghis Khan were descendants of a peripheral Xianbei branch, the Shiwei.

So, the Xianbei/Donghu, or in hetalia terms, aph Xianbei/Donghu, was more of a major predecessor to aph Mongolia than aph Xiongnu was. Once the Xianbei defeated the Xiongnu (wasn’t just the Xianbei, the Chinese had enough of them and conducted an ethnic genocide against them) what was left of them was absorbed into the Xianbei state/identity, thus being a part of Mongolias identity.

Indeed, there are many cultural similarities between the Xiongnu and the Mongols. Such as the composite bow, gers, and the long song. The Long Song and its origin is mentioned in the book of Wei, and is believed to date back at least 2000 years.

Because of everything I’ve just said, I personally headcanon Mongolia as first emerging as, seemingly, one of these small/destined to fail Donghu/Xianbei states, who was pretty much ignored by his predecessors for the most part during this period as they probably looked at him and thought “oh look another rando kid who won’t be around in half a century lol ignore him”. So he was passed around from family to family who didn’t know what to do with him as he just wouldn’t age. However, facial wise, as a child, he did kind of look a bit like the Xiongnu/Xianbei (others too but this was a little more noticeable). Xianbei, being ruled over by the Xiongnu at this time, probably noticed this and felt a bit uneasy around him. So Xianbei ignoring him was a mixture of “random failed wannabe state who won’t be here for long lol” and “omg this kid is foreshadowing total Xiongnu dominance over my people”.

Xiongnu, on the other hand, was probably greatly amused by Mongolias existance as they ruled over the Xianbei at the time, and seeing this kid translated to them as “lol the Xianbei are fucked”.

Soon it became apparent that it was actually the Xiongnu who were fucked when the Xianbei rebelled in 93 AD. This wasn’t the complete end of the Xiongnu but it was the beginning of the end (they did their very best to hold on). Again, I’m not saying that these two were the only predecessors to Mongolia and this certainly isn’t supposed to be a completely accurate historical text, this is me trying to justify a hetalia headcanon LMAO.

As time went on, I think subsequent rulers of the steppe began to realise that “oh wait, why is he [Mongolia] still here oh that’s weird” so at that point they began to view him with more significance despite the fact he was aging slowly, even by nation standards, and so allowed him to stay with the family of nobility rather than random families.

He did get stronger over time but there was still that consistent illness that was about him. A lot happened between his “birth” and the unification of the Mongol tribes under Genghis Khan, but the unification of the Mongol tribes is what made that sickness go away altogether and gave him a major growth spurt (why I headcanon him as tall). He truly felt in control of himself as his identity was truly consolidated at this point.

So yeah he emerged sometime during the late-ish BC period (I’m sorry I know that sounds vague) and was seen as just some random small state and so his identity was definitely not all there yet and yes it obviously developed throughout the years. The growing pains must have sucked lol.

Also random but another reason why I like the Xiongnu/Mongolia cultural influence link is from influence from other hetalia creators. @absolvtely-barbaric on tumblr has influenced me. I liked the fact that Xiongnu gave his “sons” cheek scars to teach them a lesson about endurance, and @pearlescentplums draws him with a cheek scar (and a lip scar) and the way they draw him is Canon in my head sorry <33 I’m not sure how I headcanon how Mongolia got his scars yet but. I like it being there as a nod to previous rulers of the steppe, so now I’m headcanoning that aph Xianbei (?) also had a lip scar LMAO.

Aph Mongolia by @pearlescentplums and yes he looks like this to me in my head

I highly doubt Mongolia can remember much of his very early life which probably frustrates him to no end. The fact that it was so long ago and the fact that he did not have a strong identity/sense of identity also didn’t help with memory retention. He remembers some voices and distinct silhouettes but other than that, not a lot.

So, this is why I hc him as being old. I’m not a historian and I did write a lot of this at like 4 am hahah, I’ve had to take a lot of liberties too as the history of steppe people is quite obscure plus I am not an expert on this subject so I tried my best. This is just my personal headcanon and it’s completely fine if you disagree with it!! I'm sorry in advance if I've gotten some dates wrong or if this is hard to follow <3

#hetalia #aph mongolia #hws mongolia #Hetalia mongolia #hetalia world twinkle #hetalia world stars #hetalia world series #Aph Russia #Hetalia russia #Hws russia #Aph china #Hws china #Hetalia china #Aph Xiongnu #Hws Xiongnu #Hetalia Xiongnu #Aph xianbei #Hws xianbei #Hetalia xianbei #Aph Egypt #Hws egypt #Hetalia Egypt #Aph prussia #Hws prussia #Hetalia prussia #hidekaz himaruya #Himaruya #Aph asia #Aph east asia #Hetalia asia

[mmercerz]

an i the only one that thinks ronan just has an average joe american accent

#like everyone’s always so pressed that he doesn’t have an irish accent #or insistent that he has a southern one but like nowhere has it been said in the books that he has one #like adam specifically has a southern accent cause it was written in the book #gansey too #but not ronan and not everyone in virginia has one so like #i just imagine he talks in your average joe accent #ronan lynch

[headoverhiddles]

The Romance Of A Yellow Rose - Dr. King Schultz x Reader [Smut]

Words: 5.6k

Synopsis: You and King get married, and celebrate your first night together by consummating the marriage. 

Commissioned by a friend! Enjoy.

Your eyes open on the rugged planes of the Southern state the three of you had found yourselves in. As you roll over to stretch the sleep out of your body, you find a single yellow rose, native to this area. A smile grows on your face. It’s King’s way of saying good morning to you, as it had been for many months.

For years now, you had been tagging along with Schultz and Django. Having attached yourself to their travels three hot summers ago, the two men had become quite fond of your travelling company; King in particular. Over time, your relationship had evolved from a companionship, through friendship, to having romantic feelings for one another. You were the first to admit to them; King hadn’t wanted to say anything, as he still held a fruitless hope that one day he could return you to the pleasantries of the normal life you once knew, before it had been uprooted. But as the months passed, you getting more and more comfortable and (dare he say) suited to the lifestyle of a bounty hunter, it was becoming apparent that you were going nowhere. Not without him, anyway.

Hildy had decided to stay with some friends in the North while the three of you travelled the country on business. Texas Jack, Turkey Creek and Jack’s wife Camarilla were more than happy to keep her with them. It had put Django at ease at least, knowing they had one less person they had to worry about with them catching a bullet. Hildy was even teaching Camarilla different things she had learned over the years at their home, and the four were getting on fine from what Django took from her letters to him. King wished you had enough sense to stay with them, but where the older bounty hunter went, you went. You had made that quite clear.

Today, a warm day in mid October, you, King and Django were headed to visit a plantation in Conroe, Texas. There an outlaw by the name of Amos “Sly Eye” Little had been posing as an overseer for 3 months, flying under the radar on the small eastern Texan plantation. He wasn’t a particularly dangerous outlaw, only wanted for his habit of skipping out on poker games before paying up. Three months ago, he ended up double crossing the wrong man which led to legal involvement, and now to deter trouble in peaceful towns he was wanted dead or alive by the state. King and Django had discovered upon visiting this plantation that the family who owned it had been dodging the law for a while as well.

After the slaves had been freed by King and Django, this outlaw family just so happened to get in the way of a few bullets. The last man left alive on the property is now Amos.

“Back here!” you call. King dashes toward you, swiping you out of the way as a bullet whizzes by your ear. You sit in shock for a moment, King’s arm still around you. For a man who isn’t very dangerous, this Amos sure is trigger happy.

“Django!” King shouts, but his partner is already far ahead in pursuit. “Never listens,” the doctor mutters, loading his shotgun and aiming. You watch as Django dodges a couple more of the outlaw’s bullets before grabbing Amos by his collar, lifting him up a few feet. The man tries to scramble for his gun, but Django of course is faster. Just as he’s about to fire at close range, King clucks his tongue, looking through his target. “Bullseye.” Your eyes shut briefly as the snap of the bullet leaving the gun jolts you closer to the older man. He pulls you out of sight once more as the bullet hits Amos through the side of his head, out the other side in a bloody deluge. Django jerks his head up your direction, dropping the corpse into the carnage at his feet.

“I was handling it!” he mutters.

King comes out from behind the tree, helping you up with one hand. You brush off your pants as you both approach the other man. “You were being hasty again,” King says.

“I was handling it,” Django insists with a look. You two nudge arms amiably, and King gives you a disapproving look.

“You are encouraging him.” He turns to Django. “And you’re encouraging her.”

“What’s wrong with a little congratulations?” you giggle. “You got your dead cowboy.”

“I would trade a thousand dead cowboys to keep both of you alive. You’re the best things that have ever happened to me, do you know that?” King gives you a meaningful look, before brushing off Django’s jacket and squeezing your hand. “Forget this place. We’d better get the horses and get out of here.”

Taking the initiative, you go off in search of Tony, Fritz and Ida, your mare. Django approaches King, taking off his bloodstained gloves. “You talked to her yet?”

“She doesn’t know, no.” King looks down, nervously stroking one side of his moustache. “I was waiting for the right time.”

“You wait any longer, she’s gonna be burying her husband to be.” King doesn’t bother taking offense—he knows Django is right. He’s much older than you—not one foot in the grave as Django likes to tease, but older. That had been another source of insecurity for him during the burgeoning relationship, but you had made it clear that you didn’t mind; in fact, you liked the difference in age. King’s fellow bounty hunter interrupts his thoughts. “Y’all should get married here. Nice place, no one left in it now.” Schultz looks around the grounds. It is pretty, and it would be nice to marry you in such agreeable weather... but King shakes his head.

“No Django. This place was built on treachery and suffering. It would be not only tasteless, but bad luck to get married here.”

When you three make it to the next town in the state over of Arkansas, something is waiting for King at the inn.

“You Doctor Schultz?” the innkeeper asks, spitting tobacco into a spittoon. King nods, taking out his billfold. The innkeeper sizes him up. “Yep, man who sent this said fella looking like you’d be coming through here. This’s for you.” He takes a letter out from behind the desk in one of the cubbies, and slides it across. King expects it would be from Texas Jack, but it instead it’s from a different friend in the North; a sheriff acquaintance he had written to before about his situation with you. Thanking the man, you all head upstairs, and when King gets to a desk, he slips on his reading glasses.  

 Thought you’d make your way through this here town, Schultz-

Sounds like a hell of a woman, the one you’ve told me about. You softie. Knew you wanted to settle down, and it’s about damn time, too. What the hell are you doing with her down in the South then? She oughtta be up here. Maybe I’m biased, but there’s a lot more law n order up here. Better people too. I am biased, spose.

You asked me what I thought about asking for her hand. Why wait to marry her? Hell, bring her up, we’ll have a ceremony here! I’m not only a sheriff, but an ordained minister too. Bet you didn’t know that. Wouldn’t kill you to ask. Anyway, no reason why I can’t make things look good, clean up the place nice and host your happy union. Got some more birthday cake here too, for someone to eat. Pretty good.

Come on up when you finally convince yourself she won’t say no.

- G. A.

“You got a letter back from Sheriff Snowy Snow?” Django smirks. King stares at the letter in his hands for a long while, before looking up at him with a smile.

He could do it. He could finally ask for your hand.

“Django, my boy. We’re going to Nebraska.” You overhear, and turn back with the bags.

“Up North? What for?”

“To see an old friend of mine, fraulein,” King says, taking the bags from you to carry inside. “Sheriff Gus Arnett.” You smile. It’ll be nice to get out of all this heat and around some likeminded people—people who King can relax and be himself around.

You had all stopped off to pick up Hildy in Boston after travelling by train through the Southern states and switching back to horsepower as you made your way up through the wintery landscape of barren northern land. It was worth it, of course; King and Django had insisted Hildy come too, and you had been happy for female company.

“Has my troublemaker been behaving himself?” is the first thing Hildy asks you, kissing your cheek in greeting.

“About as much as mine has,” you laugh.

“Coming from the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met. It is you who has been the naughty one,” King chastises you right back.

“Maybe one day, you can teach me a lesson for it.” King blushes as Hildy lets out a loud laugh at the connotations of such a taunt. He knows you’re still virginal, waiting for marriage as you’ve told him before. Once united by matrimony, that’s another wall that could be knocked down between you, if you decided you still wished to give yourself to him.

It was no secret you wanted King, and he had made it plain he would wait for you—he’s a gentleman in every sense of the word. Still, men have needs, and some late nights it had been hard. Many evenings by the fire had ended with you in his lap, grinding down as you kissed him with feverish intensity. It had always ended the same way however, with you heading off to sleep alone and leaving him with nothing but his mind to picture what the next hour may have felt like. This time, King feared he wouldn’t last once he finally got to feel you as he’d wanted to for so long. Either way, he had a silver tongue, and experience in the art of pleasuring a woman. He wouldn’t leave you wanting; whatever you needed he would give you.

 Arriving at the snowy lodge some days later, Sheriff Gus Arnett comes out the front door. A couple of minks and rabbits are hanging from the roof over the porch, and two pairs of boots caked with snow are drying outside by a wooden rocking chair that had been collecting frost no doubt since September.  

“King Schultz and Django Freeman, in the flesh! Come on in with your little ladies!” he says, opening his arms. You approach first, and he shakes your hand with the assurance of a man who’s not used to gentle handshakes. “I don’t believe we’ve met, ma’am,” he says softly, “But any friend of King’s is a friend of mine. Especially a friend like you.” He winks at you and smirks over at King, who ushers you in out of the cold quickly. Gus tips his hat at Django and Hildy, closing the door after they come in.

“Like I said,” he sighs, “We got some cake. Y’all want some?”

“Perhaps we wait until after dinner?” Schultz proposes.

“I wouldn’t mind some,” Django speaks up, giving King a look. King just chuckles.

“Go ahead, my boy. I was a dentist, remember. Old habits remain, I suppose. Would you like some, (y/n)?”

“I’ll have the piece you didn’t want,” you tease. You lean closer to him to brush your lips against his ear. “When it comes to you, I want everything.” The former dentist swallows. This proposal couldn’t come at a better time, as things between you two are heating up.

That night after dinner of rabbit stew and some leftover cake for dessert for everyone but your beloved, everyone had retired to bed a few hours after the sun had gone down. In your own room, you set your satchel on the bed of clothing you had been travelling with in the South, and just as you’re about to unpack, a knock at the door distracts you from your task. King slowly pushes the door open—he’s dressed in his white shirt and grey vest, his hair freshly combed back. It seems counterproductive to groom that well before bed, but to be fair, you had never personally witnessed King’s nocturnal habits in a place that allows such a luxury. He offers his arm, and when you take it in curiosity, he leads you out the back porch of the lodge home. The wind isn’t too cold tonight, but he still wraps his arm around you. The mountains are beautiful out here, and the snow has stopped for the night to allow for a crystal clear view of the surrounding landscape, snow white on the bottom and starry black on top.  

“It’s been a while since we’ve been able to sit together like this,” King says. “Just sit and enjoy one another’s company alone. It’s very rare we get time just the two of us without our faithful hero.” You lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Mm. We’re usually around a campfire, with Django snoring behind us.”

“At least we don’t have any of that to score our evening. I think Django’s gone to bed with Hildy in there.”

“You should be in bed too,” you fret. “I’ve noticed you haven’t been sleeping well.”

“I never have been very good at that. I’m a light sleeper, fraulein. Especially when I have lots on the mind.”

“You know what helps me when I can’t sleep?” You smile. “Something I learned from you.” King turns to look at you, a soft chilly breeze blowing the silver blonde hair from his eyes.

“What’s that?”

“A story.”

King ducks his head, and pulls you closer to him. “I think that would do the trick. Go on then, my love. Will you regale me?”

“I know a story of a deep running love, where a woman slowly developed feelings for one who she learned to depend on.”

“A common story, no?” King teases.

“Shhh. She loved very freely, but this was different. She not only loved this man, but worried about him when he wasn’t around, yearned for him, desired him in ways that drove her crazy sometimes.” King’s breath audibly quickens.

“And what did our heroine do about this tumultuous situation?”

“Oh, she took care of things. But not like she knew he could.” His breath hitches. You bite your lip as you go on. “The two had been together so long... learning one another’s quirks, laughing at little things and sharing moments others wouldn’t understand. They knew what scared them, what made them smile. At the end of the day, she told the man a million times how she adored him. But she was afraid he still didn’t know how much.”

King rubs down your finger, eyes trained on it before looking up at you. “I think I do.” You forget whatever you were going to say next as King rubs his rough fingers over your knuckles, bringing them up to his lips to kiss them. His beard grazes your skin pleasantly as he opens his mouth. “Will you be my wife?” Your heart skips a beat.

“Truly?”

“True as my love for you.”  

“Tomorrow?”

“If you wish.” You lean in to kiss him.

The door bangs open, Gus tosses a pail of water out all over you two. He realizes where you two were sitting, and his eyes widen.

"Gott verdammt."

“Oh, hell. I’m— what are the two of you doing out—?” He can’t even finish his sentence—you’re laughing too hard. King tries to keep up a grumpy facade at the fact that you had both just been drenched in ice water in this weather, but he can’t help it. Your laughter is infectious.

“Please tell me there is enough boiled water for a bath,” he sighs, and you shiver. “For the fraulein, at least.”

Django and Hildy had been up to witness the commotion from the noise of it all, no doubt committing the sight to memory for future teasing. They returned comfortably to bed with one another, which was a comfort you and King couldn’t currently afford in your state.  

You get to work drawing the bath as Gus passes you each pails of hot water. King comes in, shedding his dripping fur coat and tugging at his tie. Your eyes drift down to his chest, then back up to his face. King subsequently tries to distract himself so as not to focus too hard on you. You had stripped down to your slip, which was stuck to every curve of your body from the water. The temperature hadn’t done much to help any other evidence of the cold, around your breasts. He tries not to look too long.

“Would you take me out of this?” you ask. It’s a harmless question, but King’s thoughts run wild. He could simply refuse you, but what reason would he give then? That he couldn’t control himself around you, so close to your wedding night?

“Of course,” he sighs softly, and approaches. He takes the back of the slip and undoes the buttons, helping you pull it over your head. He inches it up, the wet material dragging along your skin. He turns to go as you’re revealed, and to his dismay, you don’t stop him. Only one more night, and he could have all of you.

As you step out of the lodge, it’s as if you’ve stepped out into a painting. A light dusting of snow is falling over you, snowflakes catching in your eyelashes and melting tracks down your cheeks like tears of happiness. King is standing there at the end of the pathway shovelled out, just by the small lake. It’s frozen over, reflecting the light of the moon through every little icicle hanging from the branches of trees hanging over top of it. Mountains soar around the group of you, boasting the most beautiful landscape you’d ever seen.

King takes your hand as you approach. Beside him, you see Django dressed in a handsome green winter’s jacket, black leather gloves pristine. On your side, Broomhilda is wearing a beautiful green dress under layers of a form fitting brown jacket. You’re in a beautiful snow white dress with furs covering your shoulders and a fur hat. King is also wearing his grey fur coat. The two of you join hands, and recite vows.

“I know I’m a considerable number of years older than you,” King tells you softly, “But I promise to make up for this. I promise to protect you with my life, cherish you, and support you in every endeavor you wish to pursue.”

“I will stay by your side no matter what,” you tell him, “I’ll be brave when you can’t be. I’ll be strong when you need me to be. I’ll love you as long as my heart beats, and oppose anyone who tries to take you away.” Kindness in his eyes, King smiles down at you, crow’s feet crinkling. He lifts your hand up to kiss.

“Do you take this man?” the sheriff asks.

“I do.”

“Do you take this little lady?” King sighs out through his nose, thumbs rubbing over your knuckles.

“I certainly do,” he breathes.

“Well hell, you may kiss the bride then!”

When King leans forward, you surprise him by taking a step forward and wrapping your arms around him, deepening the kiss. It lasts for an eternity between you, and when you part, King brushes the snow off your rosy cheeks and presses his lips to your forehead.  

“Ich liebe dich,” he whispers into your hair, and you slide your arms around his middle in embrace.

Inside the bedroom upstairs, a fire crackles in the hearth. The curtains are open to the snowy view outside, and the frost on the glass only makes you savour the warmth inside. King pours you some bourbon, and comes to sit down beside you in front of the fire. As you cuddle into him, he puts a hand on your back and draws you in for a kiss, his beard pleasantly tickling your face. Bourbon forgotten, the kiss deepens, and you feel his tongue slip into your mouth as you part your lips for more. You pull away, smiling.

“Can I ask you something?”

He looks at you. “Of course. What are you thinking about?”

“How does it feel?”

King looks at you. “You will have to be a little more specific.”

“How does it feel to finally consummate a marriage?”

 He stares into the flickering fire. “We don’t have to do it if you’re nervous.”

“I didn’t say that,” you say, crawling over to straddle him. King welcomes you into his lap. “I just wanted to know. You’ll show me?”

“I would love to.”

“You know I’m inexperienced.”

“I do,” King nods.

“Isn’t that undesirable?” King seems offended that you would even suggest such a thing, at the very least ruffled by the idea of it.

“My dear, of course not. Being inexperienced merely means I can show you how to do things.” He hums against your neck, grazing his lips down.

“I’m not completely clueless,” you breathe as you tilt your head back to give him better access. You stand in one smooth movement in front of the fire, leaving King sitting and gazing up at you. “I know what fucking is.” You hear his exhaled breath.

“Yes. I would assume you wouldn’t be entirely in the dark about that.”

“But I’ve never felt it,” you whisper. “I wanna feel it, King.” He doesn’t get a chance to respond. You undo your dress, lace by lace, letting your fingers twine slowly between the hooks. You sigh his name as the corset comes free, recalling how you’d longed for him to do this last night, and you hook the straps of your dress under your thumbs, sliding it down to reveal the slip beneath. You hear his breath hitch, but he doesn’t make a move.

You run your hands down over your ass, letting out a soft noise. You hear him readjust where he’s sitting, and you work now on the cream coloured pants beneath the white gown, sliding them down ever so carefully.

“(y/n),” King whispers.

You let out a moan. “I’ve been wanting to get out of this the entire ceremony just to see how you would look at me, seeing me like this for the first time.” You swing your hips a little, arching your back, and finally wiggle some more as you drop your pants to the floor. King’s breathing is heavier now, and you stretch your arms above your head, sighing again as you let your hair free. “Like I said. I may not have done this before, but I know a lot more than you think I do.”

“I’m not certain I believe that, my feisty little one,” King huffs, averting eye contact. Oh, no. Not tonight he doesn’t. You’re only in your chemise now, and you turn to reveal smooth skin he’s never seen before, bunching the fabric up just enough to give him a peek of the v of your hips.

You can see the visible outline of his hardened cock in his pants, straining against the tight confines and desperate for some kind of relief. You put one leg over his lap to straddle him.

“Touch me?” you whisper, and reach down. He doesn’t stop you, just watches closely as you bring your hands to his pants, untie them, and reach in to take his cock in your hand. He does as you say, returning the touch with his hands up your back, taking the straps of your chemise down. He takes a shallow breath as your fingers come in contact with his warm cock. You grin wickedly, swiping your thumb up to spread his precum around a little. He meets your eyes as you pull him fully out of his pants.

“Oh,” he huffs gently, head falling back a little as you stroke him once.

“Is that good?” you ask softly, pressing a kiss to his ear. “Am I doing it right?” King stutters a little, gasping for air when you swipe over his swollen cockhead again.

“You are doing just fine,” King whispers, lips parting.

“Mmm,” you mumble, pressing a trail of wet kisses down his face and lazily taking his lips between your teeth, leading into a dizzying kiss full of tongue and one another’s slow breath.

“Stop. Wait my love,” King mumbles, stalling your wrist with his hand. You pout.

“What’s wrong?”

He opens his eyes to look at you, pupils blown with lust.  “After a show like that, I am at your complete and ready service, not the other way around. Tell me exactly what you want me to do,” he whispers gently, and you get off of him, lying back on the floor like a princess awaiting a treat.

“Could you pleasure me with your mouth?”

Your cheeks heat, but King nods with a smile, dispelling any nerves you might have for such an intimate display of sensuality. He lays you on the floor, pressing kisses down your neck, over your collarbone and across the top of the soft skin of your breasts. His hands come up to gently hold your hips down as they circle upward—he moves your legs so he can brace himself between them, pressing more kisses down over your stomach to the impressions on your hips he’s left with his fingers.

“I want you to have me,” you whisper. King strokes one hand along your thigh.

“It takes time to discover each and every spot that will make you weak for me, lieb,” he mumbles, mouthing at your panties with a practiced finesse. “Be a good girl now for me. Be patient. There is more to come.” The bounty hunter takes the panties down with deft fingers, sliding the fabric down your legs until you’re bare to him. Your cheeks heat, but he reassures you with a starstruck gaze, looking over your body like a lovesick man. He dips his head back down with a soft kiss to your thigh, reaching up to hold your hips as if he’s predicted your body’s reaction already. He presses a reverent kiss to your clit, and his tongue takes a sweep of your folds, making you quiver as his beard scratches the soft skin of your thighs. His prediction proves correct when your hips jerk up as he gives his first lick between your lips. You reach back to grab the carpet, before deciding instead to grip onto his blonde and silver locks where his mouth works between your legs. It’s a surreal pleasure—unlike anything you’ve felt before, and you want more.

 “Does that feel good?” King asks. All you can do is nod, but he encourages you to tell him exactly how you feel. “Use your words, fraulein.”

“Yes. Don’t stop,” you sigh.

“My good girl.” King dips back down, swirling his tongue around your bud until you’re shaking. Taking care to hold you close to him, he moves himself up until he’s grinding himself against you. “I want nothing more than to be inside of you,” he whispers.

“Take me as you wish then,” you groan.

“Tonight is about you,” he murmurs against your skin.

“I want it.”

Unbuckling himself, he takes his time slowly working a finger inside of you. He adds another and gently curves them up, before gauging your reaction. Going by the desperation in your face, he slowly replaces his fingers with his cock, pausing every inch to check and see if you’re still alright. You can tell how he’s exercising his restraint—you’re so tight, and all he wants to do is take you until both of you are sweaty and screaming, but he must make this last. You can feel him sliding into you, and his hand comes up to hold yours. Your eyes screw shut as he finally bottoms out, and he presses a kiss to your chest. “Tell me when it is okay to move.” You nod.

“Please.” He starts up a slow pace, covering your body with his as he takes his time with you. Too desperate to take the time King might have in mind to teach you patience, you push your lips harder against him, and roll over on top of him. You kiss the bounty hunter, again and again until your lips are swollen and King is painfully hard inside of you.

“Lift up your shirt for me,” he whispers, his voice gentle. “That’s it.”

“Have me,” you mumble.

“What was that?” King asks, “You must use your words if you would like something, hm?”

You blink up at your older lover. “Please take me King,” you raise your voice, and he smiles.

“Hm.” He gives you an affectionate smile. “I have no choice but to oblige my lady love when she asks as nicely as that. Very well. As you wish.”

He pumps in harder, ripping a groan from you. You’d dreamed of what this would feel like, and it turned out better than you had imagined, King’s soft sighs and the rocking of his body against yours heightening every touch he grazes your sensitive skin with.

A moment later, he pulls out and flips you over gently. He then positions himself between your legs and brings his mouth back down between your legs, suckling around your clit again. “King,” you whisper, breath hitching.

“Louder,” he encourages, and goes back to masterfully taking you apart with his tongue. He soon encourages you to sit on his face, and you do, feeling him lick you perfectly as the pleasant feeling of his beard returns to tantalize your skin. He circles your clit with the tip of his tongue as you reach down to touch his cock. It’s a foreign feeling in your hand, but you soon get the hang of the motions, twisting your fist and using his precum to slick your strokes.

“King... don’t stop,” you groan, his tongue delving just barely inside of you. He moves off of your pussy as you moan, and licks his lips.

 “I must admit, I wanted nothing more than to do this all day,” he groans as he moves back up your body, “But I am a gentleman.”

“Too much of one sometimes.”

As if in challenge, he picks up his pace and starts to grunt your name, leaning down every now and then between thrusts to press a kiss to your breastbone as his face scrunches up. You love how uncharacteristically possessive King is getting– it turns you on beyond belief. Your moans grow loud as the bounty hunter’s cock fills you over and over again, satisfying your need for him as your noises blend together into the creak, groan, gasp of making love for the first time.

“K… King…” you groan, breasts bouncing with every thrust. His breath is hot on your neck, and he presses an open mouthed kiss there.

“You are astonishing,” he whispers, “You’re perfect… oh, bitte, bitte Fraulein, you feel so nice… you are my everything.”

“King, just like that, oh god–” you groan, and he makes a noise at your slutty display, reaching up to massage your breasts. You feel your orgasm approach as he continues to touch you, and his hand quickly comes down to rub your clit.

“Ah,” you moan, and clutch his shoulders. King sighs, feeling your pussy squeeze him, and with a stuttered thrust he cums as well, spilling inside you. Soon, you’re crying out his name, and he squeezes your hand tighter as you both finish at the same time, the love you share burning at the height of its passion as your bodies become one. You both rock together to ride out your orgasms until you’re satisfied. Panting breaths mingle as you snuggle close to him.

 “Is that what all the fuss was about?” you tease. King frowns at you, and you laugh into his chest.

“Into bed before I take full offense to your jokes, beloved,” he murmurs. You nod, smiling as he helps you up with one hand and carries you bridal style over to the bed covered in furs for a warm night’s sleep together—finally together. 

"I am lucky I have such a pretty creature warming my bed tonight," he jokes, "A plucked chicken like me should be very grateful." You huff another laugh, rolling over beside him to finally tuck in with your love. 

"I've only ever wanted you. That'll never change, no matter what." You grin. "Tonight only helped solidify that fact." 

"So you are with me for my talents in the bedroom, ah!"

"NO--"

"I understand it now." 

"King!" 

"Shh. Let's sleep now. We will argue like an old married couple in the morning." 

The next day, Hildy and Django are already in the living room of the lodge. Gus is in the kitchen making up some breakfast.

“You look radiant this morning,” Broomhilda says, smile wide.

“Yeah. You do look pretty good. Different,” Django nods, narrowing his eyes as if to try and decipher what could have changed about you. Hildy just rolls her eyes, turning back to you from her own husband.

“So. Where’s your significant other?” You grab yourself a cup for the coffee that’s brewing, settling in across from them at the table.   

“He’s still sleeping. He worked hard last night.” Tucked in the pocket of your nightgown is a single perfect, yellow rose he had saved you from the South, one King had left his new wife to find upon waking.

#dr king schultz #dr king schultz x reader #king schultz #king schultz x reader #django unchained #quentin tarantino #christoph waltz #christoph waltz x reader #django #django fanfiction #tarantino fanfiction #dr schultz #reader x dr king schultz

[vampiregirl1797]

When his Blood Singer Moves to Town

Edward Cullen x Reader

GIF Not Mine

Word Count: 3,427

Click Here For Masterlist.

Summary: Y/N has been friends with the Cullen’s since she moved to town, and has had less than platonic feelings for Edward for just as long. When Bella moves to town and Y/N finds out that she’s Edward’s blood singer, she worries she’s at risk of losing her best friend and the person she’s in love with. But after a trip to Alaska, Edward reassures her that will never happen.

As cliche as it sounded, I’d had a terrible feeling in my gut when I’d woken up this morning. I didn’t know why, but my instincts were screaming at me to pull the covers over my head and go back to sleep. But alas, I didn’t listen, figuring it was just Monday blues. So I’d gotten dressed, crammed a cereal bar down my throat and waited for my best friend to pick me up like he did every morning. When he arrived, my mood lifted a little, as it always did whenever I was around him, but the feeling still lingered.

‘What’s the matter, honey?’ Edward asked as I fastened my seatbelt after greeting Emmett and Rose who were sat in the back seats.

‘I don’t know.’ I admitted, knowing it would be pointless to lie to someone who could literally read my mind, ‘I’ve just had a really bad feeling of dread since I woke up this morning.’

‘Don’t worry, I’m sure it’s nothing.’ Edward said, giving me a comforting smile that made my heart skip a beat in my chest. 

‘He’s right. This is Forks, what’s the worst that could happen?’ Rose teased, trying to lift the somber mood that had settled over the car.

‘You’re right.’ I agreed, a small but genuine smile settling over my face. It was probably nothing.

//

I was in French first period with Jasper, Alice and Edward when the news reached us. A new girl had started today, Isabella Swan, though according to Ed, she’d been correcting everyone so far and asking them to call her Bella. I’d shrugged, not really that interested, but I’d felt a little sympathy for the girl starting half way through junior year in a small town— she’d be the talk of the school for the rest of the week at least. I didn’t envy her for that, but seeing as she was apparently Chief Swan’s daughter, I assumed she knew what she was getting into when she agreed to move here. 

After that, Edward had distracted me with questions about the book— A Tale of Two Cities—he’d suggested I read. The rest of the lesson was spent with us discussing the ins and outs, the best parts and the worst parts in French. The rest of the morning flew by, and none of us had a period with the new girl, so when it came to lunch a few of the Cullens were curious about the new girl, while I had maintained my uninterested stance. We all joined the lunch line, I grabbed myself a fruit salad and a bottle of water, still not very hungry and took my usual seat in between Emmett and Edward at our table. 

‘So, what does the new girl think of the school’s freaks?’ Emmett asked, his dimple appearing in his cheek as he grinned, ‘well freaks and Y/N.’ He winked at me and chuckled when I rolled my eyes at him.

Edward looked over to Bella at Emmett’s question, and for the first time today I look over too. I noticed the way she ducked her head and hid behind her long, brown curly hair as soon as Ed had looked over. I saw the girl next to her, Jessica Stanley, do the same thing and I saw the latter’s shoulders shaking, indicating that she was giggling. She was incredibly beautiful, but I could tell from her shy stature and her unwillingness to look back over here in case Ed was still looking at her, she wasn’t aware of it. I looked away when I felt Edward jerk so unexpectedly that the table vibrated a little.

‘I can’t read her thoughts.’ He sighed, frustration clear in his onyx eyes.

‘How bizarre.’ I mused, putting a piece of watermelon in my mouth and chewing.

‘Ooo finally, someone’s mind you can’t snoop on,’ Emmett’s voice was practically dripping with mirth.

‘I’ll bet the curiosity is killing you.’ Jasper teased, his southern drawl wrapping around his words and a rare smile appearing on his face. 

I assumed he could feel Ed’s frustration as well as any other emotions he wasn’t showing on his expression or through body language. And for the first time since that morning, the dread returned to my gut with such ferocity that it took my breath away. My eyes moved between Bella and Edward, the former shy but clearly interested, and the latter gleaming with curiosity and whatever other emotions Jasper had picked up on to implement his teasing. This is what my body had been warning me about— I was going to lose my best friend to the new girl.

//

The day had taken another abrupt turn when Edward had stormed out of Biology with a look of murder on his face. We usually met at his car after sixth period because we had a free after, so we just went home earlier. I’d hastily climbed in when he’d unlocked the Volvo and had remained silent as he’d driven faster than he normally did, muttering under his breath too low for me to hear. I’d finally spoken up when we reached the hospital, needing to know what was bothering him so much.

‘Ed, what’s going on?’ I asked, my voice tentative.

‘Bella, she’s my blood singer.’ He managed to get out between gritted teeth.

I felt my heart both sink and squeeze in sympathy for his plight. It sunk because I remembered the other half of that legend— it was said that if a humans blood sung for a vampire, that human was the true mate of said vampire. If that was the case then my earlier suspicions were right— I was going to lose Edward to Bella and the stab of pain in my chest almost took my breath away, but I pushed it aside. This wasn’t about me, this was about him.

‘Is there anything I can do?’ I reached out, my hand enveloping his right, where it rested on the steering wheel. When my hand came into contact with his, he flipped his palm up and held my hand in a gentle but firm hold.

‘I need to get away, my instincts want me to go after her, to kill her and I don’t know how long I’ll be able to resist while I’m so thirsty.’ He explained, his thumb moving back and forth over the back of the hand he was holding and I felt my lips lift into a smile when I realised he was comforting me when it was supposed to be the other way around.

‘I’ll come with you.’ It wasn’t like I had any parents to dictate my actions— they died a year ago, but I’d emancipated myself at fifteen, they were lovely people and I had loved them, but they just weren’t ready to be parents. 

Both of them worked full time jobs that took them away from home weeks at a time— the longest I’d gone without seeing them had been two months. I’d gotten tired of being raised by a nanny seeing as she practically just left me to my own devices as soon as I was old enough and did her own thing when she was supposed to be looking after me. So I’d looked into emancipation and after talking to my parents about it on one of the rare days they were home before they jetted off again, they’d both agreed without much resistance. I assumed me saying I’d still like to live with them until I could afford my own place had swayed them, as it meant that not much would change—I’d still be at home, I’d just have the ability to make my own decisions without parental permission. When they’d died in a freak car accident a few years ago, I’d inherited everything seeing as I was their only living family and I was the only one listed on the will. After it happened I decided to move to Forks, remembering the few times my parents had bought me here when I was a child. I’d needed a fresh start where no one knew me as the kid who became rich after her parents died, and this had seemed like the perfect place. I’d actually arrived the same time as the Cullens and it had been then that our friendship had been born and it’d only flourished from there.

‘You don’t have to do that.’ He insisted, but his grip didn’t waver, and his dark eyes were almost pleading for me to disagree with him.

‘Ed, I love you and if you need me, I’m going to be there for you so don’t bother arguing with me.’ I gave him a firm look and when he finally smiled I sent him a wink. 

His dark eyes softened with an emotion I couldn’t identify, and he placed a chaste kiss on the back of my hand before asking me to wait in the car while he spoke to his father. I took the time to compose myself and by the time he returned we were off to Alaska to see his extended family. We’d stopped to fill his tank after about an hour, and he’d also grabbed me some food to eat on the rest of the drive. It was the longest I’d ever been in a car, minus bathroom breaks and stopping just so I could stretch out my legs, but after two days and ten hours we made it. 

I felt like I needed my whole body cracked by a chiropractor, but we were here, and honestly it was beautiful! The Denali Coven’s home was similar to the Cullen’s in the sense that it was secluded and practically in the middle of nowhere— you wouldn’t know where to find it unless you knew what you were looking for. It was a mansion surrounded by snow and the early evening light was a mixture of pink and blue, it took my breath away. We never got sunsets like this in Forks, and I’d almost forgotten how beautiful it could be.

‘Wow, it’s beautiful here.’ I whispered, unwilling to disrupt the scenery around me by being too loud.

‘It is.’ Edward mirrored my volume, and I was so enamoured by the effortless beauty around me that I didn’t notice the bronze haired vampire was staring at me. 

After a while, the cold became too much to ignore and Edward led me inside the house, introducing me to the family I’d heard of but never met in person. They were all of course extremely beautiful and the way Tanya’s eyes lingered on the bronze haired vampire next to me made that stabbing feeling return, but I pushed it down. Edward was my friend, I had no right to be jealous of the female attention he received, I knew that but it didn’t stop the stab of pain in my heart. I chatted with Kate and Garrett while the others and Edward went hunting, they were only gone an hour but by the time they returned I was ready to drop. I’d only managed to snag four hours sleep in the past two days as a car wasn’t the comfiest place to lay your head. 

My vampire friend of course knew immediately and politely excused us both to lead me to one of the only rooms in the entire house that actually had a bed. At that point he went to leave me to have my human moments, but at the last second my body acted without his consent and grabbed his wrist. As soon as my hand closed around his wrist he paused without hesitation, his now golden eyes observing me carefully— I knew he was aware of what I was going to say, but he always waited me to voice it in case I changed my mind.

‘Will you stay with me, until I fall asleep?’ I asked, knowing that if he didn’t I probably wouldn't get any sleep, despite my current state of exhaustion. I had an issue falling asleep in new places that lacked the familiarity of my own bed, at the moment Ed was the closest to comfort I had at the moment; he made me feel safe and calm. 

‘Of course I will,’ he answered, his eyes softening to molten, plonking himself onto the twin bed while I got myself ready to sleep. 

I changed in the bathroom, brushed my teeth, washed my face and applied night cream before joining Edward in the bedroom again. He remained on top of the covers, but he’d shifted so that he wasn’t inhibiting any movement for me. I climbed underneath the thick duvet and snuggled into Ed’s side, happy that his natural coolness balanced out the warmth from the covers and the heat Kate had put on throughout the house to keep me from freezing to death. I inhaled his sweet scent and felt myself melt into him when is arm wound around my shoulders and allowed me to snuggle closer to him. I fell into unconsciousness quickly after that, but just before I completely surrendered to the darkness, I thought I felt Edward’s lips kissing my hair, but I was too far gone to fully process it or respond.

//

‘I need to talk to you.’ Edward said as we were a day into our drive back to Forks.

He felt much better now, and was determined not to let a stranger rule his life and the legacy his coven represented. He didn’t want to let Carlisle down and was prepared to simply not breathe in the single period he shared with Bella if that was what it took for his family to continue living in Forks until they were ready to move on again. Honestly, he’d told me that after the first night we’d spent there, I’d barely opened my eyes before he told me the conclusion he’d come to over his blood singer moving to Forks. It took me longer to process his words than it should have, because it was morning but mostly due to the fact that I’d woken up exactly where I’d fallen asleep, which meant he hadn’t left me once throughout the night and that revelation had done funny things to my heart and my ability to focus. Once I had, I’d been relieved, a part of me had been worried he would go as far to relocate to Alaska until Bella left Forks.

‘About what?’ I wondered, putting the bottle of water I’d taken a few gulps of back into the cup holder.

‘I’m not interested in Bella in any romantic way, and I plan to stay as far away from her as possible. While there have been some instances over the centuries of a vampires blood singer also being his true mate, that’s very rare. It wasn’t the case for Emmett, and it’s not the case for me either.’ I could barely hear his soft voice over the sound of my heart thundering in my chest, ‘you’re my true mate, Y/N. I’ve known since I first saw you, which is why we all became so close to you so fast, my family and I usually shy away from making contact with humans but I had to know you. I was certain I’d scare you off when you found out that we were vampires, and when it didn’t I was sure you’d leave when you found out about how much I love you. I tried to cheat and figure out how you’d react to the news by focusing on your thoughts, but you never really lingered on my family and I when you’re around us. So, because I’m a coward I kept my knowledge to myself, content with having you in my life even if it meant I couldn’t truly be with you how I wanted to be. But after hearing your thoughts about losing me when you learned about Bella, and how you felt unworthy of me when you met Tanya, well I just couldn’t bear to keep this to myself when I knew that you were hurting because of it.’

I was silent for a long moment after his speech, because well it was a lot to process, and a part of me couldn’t believe it even though I’d just heard it with my own two ears. But when I saw the look in Ed’s eyes, the soft look that made his orbs look like honey, I was able to recognise the emotion that had always evaded me when I’d tired to put a finger on it— it was love. 

‘I love you too, Edward.’ My voice was so soft that I could barely hear it, but of course he had no problem and a grin took over his face, lighting his expression so brilliantly that my breath caught at the sight of his effortless beauty.

After that somewhat emotional conversation, Edward had taken his hand in mine, and we spent the rest of the drive exchanging occasional anecdotes. But for the most part we remained in a comfortable silence and relaxed in the bubble of love and contentment that settled around us. 

//

Third person POV

When Bella entered the cafeteria that particularly miserable Monday morning, she’d looked over to the Cullen’s table out of habit, only to freeze when she saw that there six people sat around the table, not the usual four she’d grown accustomed to seeing. After she managed to pull herself out of her reverie, she grabbed a bottle of lemonade and hurried to the table she sat at with Mike, Jessica, Angela, Eric and others whose names she hadn’t quite been able to remember. The curly-haired brunette kept her head down for ten minutes, tentatively sipping her lemonade and avoiding conversation as she felt daggers piercing into the side of her head. It was another five minutes before she decided enough was enough; she wasn’t going to let herself feel alienated by a boy who didn’t even know her from Adam. So she turned her head, looking up at the table from underneath her lashes and the sight that greeted her made her fell relaxed and disappointed all at once. None of them were looking in her direction, so she lifted her head a little more so she was able to observe the family with more ease. Emmett and Rosalie were wrapped up in each other, the curly haired blonde vampire grinning at his love as she kissed his cheek and murmured something that made the brawny boy throw his head back and release his signature booming laughter. Jasper and Alice were sat side by side, the blonde’s hand holding Alice’s underneath the table, both content to sit in silence and observe those around them. Edward and a girl whose name she’d learned was Y/N, they were... close in a way Bella couldn’t quite describe. She didn’t know what had changed between now and last week, but there had obviously been a shift in their relationship. The bronze haired boy had his arm wrapped around Y/N’s shoulders, and she was looking up at Edward with a look of pure adoration and love in her eyes, but what was more intense was that he was returning it with equal fervour. Throughout the hour, their eyes never left one another, and they were always touching in some way, whether it was Y/N holding Edward’s free hand and playing with his fingers as they quietly spoke to one another, or whether it was the bronze haired boy brushing Y/N’s hair behind her ear and letting his hand linger to caress the side of her face— they never once shifted so they weren’t touching. It was as if they were in their own little bubble, impenetrable to even the other family members sitting around the table with them, and Bella felt her heart ache at the sight. She longed for someone to look at her the way Edward was looking at Y/N. If she were being completely honest with herself, she had found herself interested in the boy, despite his horrid attitude towards her last week, but obviously that was in vein; he was in love with Y/N, that much was obvious. 

With a sigh, Bella returned her attention to her table mates around her, making an effort to engage in their conversation and forget about the mysterious family sat to the right of her. Jessica had been right— there was no point in wasting any time there.

A/N: So I had this idea pop into my head last night, and to be honest I’m not completely sure how I feel about it?? But I’ve purged it from my mind now and it’s out there. I hope you liked it!!

#edward cullen #edward cullen x reader #edward Cullen x you #twilight

[notquitetwilight]

What are your headcanons about Alice's personality before vampirism? Once she became a vampire she was able to choose who she wanted to be, or maybe deep down she was able to recognize things she liked from her past and maybe built off of that? For example, if she liked helping her mother sew dresses (that didn't actually happen) then maybe that's why she has such a strong desire for fashion even if she doesn't know why. Something like that. I hope I'm making sense!

This makes perfect sense and I love this! Thank you for letting me fire up my actual brain cells lol. Smeyer is kinda contradictory when it comes to Alice — on one hand Alice only gets visions based on people’s decisions, but on the other she bases her whole vampire life on a vision of Jasper saying her name. Jasper would’ve only known her name from Alice telling him, but Alice only knows her name from the vision of Jasper calling her by it. That doesn’t make sense to me because she makes the decision to find Jasper and then the Cullens after her vision, not before it, so how’d she even have the vision of that happening in the first place if she hadn’t made that decision yet? Does that make sense? I don’t get it lol

I like to think she has some subconscious sense of her human self. Alice was her middle name after all so clearly she didn’t pull that out of the sky when it became her forename as a vampire. I can picture her human self being similarly spirited to how she is as a vampire, as well as her having a very strong sense of self or of trust in her own instinct. We know she had visions as a human and I’m sure when she woke as a vampire she knew to trust in those visions because of how her human self had been right about her mother’s murder etc, even if she had no conscious recollection of that. So, if we go with this theory, here are some possible aspects of her human life that might explain Alice’s current personality/interests:

- From the moment she was born, Alice shared a close bond with her mother, unlike her daddy’s girl of a sister. This is why Mrs. Brandon believed in her visions when nobody else did.

- Her mother was beautiful, and Alice inherited not only her pixie-like features, but her eye for fashion and beauty. She’d often be all dressed up with nowhere to go as she tended to the house while her husband travelled and worked.

- Mrs. Brandon would let her play dress-up in her wardrobe from a very young age, and little Alice would beg her to do her makeup so she could feel as beautiful as the woman she admired so much looked. She always eventually gave in, but told Alice she wasn’t allowed to look until she was finished. She’d then lead her over to the mirror, her hands over Alice’s eyes, and do a big reveal each time. Alice would always gasp and hug her in delight, and her mother would kiss the top of her head and say, “my beautiful little doll.”

- As Alice grew older, she loved helping out at her father’s jewellers so that she could people-watch. The shop was always filled with rich southern belles getting their husbands to buy them expensive jewellery. She loved fantasising about being able to afford what those whose style she admired bought, while also silently judging those she felt had more money than taste.

- Her father usually kicked her out after an hour or two of her starting work because she was so daydreamy, and he’d impatiently tell her she made the customers uncomfortable.

- But one regular, an elderly widow, would always request Alice’s assistance specifically. She’d have the girl trail around after her, accessorising a diamond necklace here with a diamond bracelet there. She had a rather harsh way of speaking, but she’d always shake Alice’s hand and slip her a $50 note after purchasing from her father at the register. The lady had very little time for Mr. Brandon, and when she came in and asked for “the short young lady” after Alice had been institutionalised, he told her she would not be returning but he’d be happy to assist. She gave him a long, hard look before leaving the store, and he never saw her again.

- Her mother taught her to sew. She’d stay up practicing until all hours, and eventually started sketching her own dress designs. The first piece of clothing Alice ever designed and made from scratch was a surprise dress for her mother, made from an expensive, pale blue fabric she had bought from the saved $50 bills. Her mother was in so much awe of her daughter’s talent and thoughtfulness that her eyes welled up as she ran her fingers over the garment.

- When others began speaking about Alice’s visions, accusing her of being a witch, a changeling or simply cursed, Mrs. Brandon would comfort her and tell her to ignore them. “You’ll never lead yourself wrong, Mary,” she told her firmly. “Always count on yourself.” Alice occasionally overheard her parents arguing about her throughout her childhood and teenage years, her father insisting she be sent away. But her mother always came to her defense, and the last time she heard them argue, the usually gentle woman was so infuriated she yelled that she would discuss it no further — that Alice would be sent away over her dead body.

- Alice was thereby sickened to forsee her mother’s murder, and was so hysterically panicked she struggled to tell her of what she saw in a coherent manner. Her mother tried to reassure her that she’d be cautious — that nothing would happen, that she’d never leave her — but the pit in the girl’s stomach never went away.

- Mrs. Brandon’s death left Alice feeling very strange. She took it hard, but it had also felt like a nightmare inevitable to come true. She imagined herself standing on a train platform, watching two trains headed for a collision and powerless to stop it. People whispered about how she wore a pale blue dress instead of black to the funeral, but she couldn’t hear them through her grief. She also foresaw that nobody would believe her when she claimed her mother had been murdered, but she tried to tell them anyway to no avail. For the first time, despite years of being mocked and ostracised for it, she began to hate her gift.

- She was grateful for it again just a few months later though, having envisioned her father and his new wife attempting to kill her. The vision gave her just enough time to make her escape, ultimately saving her life. She swore she’d only ever follow her late mother’s advice from then on and always trust in herself and what she saw.

- When she woke as a vampire, the first vision she had was Jasper saying her name. The next was of the pair of them surrounded by the rest of the Cullens. She was resolute that these visions were leading her to the life she was destined to live, despite having no recollection of her past.

- About a month after she joined the Cullens, Alice stood at the door of Esme’s studio, where her already maternal figure was painting inside. She didn’t know what had possessed her to do what she had done for this person she barely knew, but something about it felt right.

“Esme?” she called as she knocked on the door.

“Come in,” Esme said absentmindedly, concentrating on the landscape she was working on. Alice burst through the door excitedly, causing her to look up in alarm.

“I have something for you. And I’ve already seen: you’re going to love it!”

Esme’s shoulders relaxed. She smiled and set her paintbrush down. “I’m sure I will. What have you got there?” She gestured to the material folded over Alice’s arm. “Spoiling me already?”

Alice proudly held up her latest creation from its hanger. “I designed a dress, just for you.”

#omg this was so much longer than I planned #sorry #anon I hope this is what you were going for #twilight #twilight renaissance #the twilight saga #the twilight series #alice cullen #esme cullen #jasper hale #the cullens #headcanon #twilight revival #origin story #alice brandon #smeyer #tw murder #tw death #tts #jalice #new moon #eclipse #breaking dawn #midnight sun #asks #anon #not quite twilight

[emmidqueso]

Do You Know Your Neighbors?

It was only midday, but the sun’s inescapable heat and glaring rays had already made the diner unbearable. It usually got hot around one or two, but today was supposed to be one of the hottest of the year. The Cook had a bandana tied around his forehead in a pathetic attempt to keep the sweat out of his eyes, but the waitresses had no choice but to wipe their foreheads with a spare napkin when they got the chance.

Well, it’s not like they didn’t have a lot of chances. At this time of year, most of the locals were out on vacation at the beach or a week-long tropical cruise. Sylvia was jealous of those who could go – her boss rarely let them take sick days, let alone vacations. Even when the tables were empty for hours, the bell on the door didn’t chime, and Cook stepped away from the grill because he had nothing to do. It was weird yet normal for the only cars in the lot to be Cook’s old Mustang that still shone like it was new and Sylvia’s beat up Ford. They’d listen to the second hand of the clock tick, the sound echoing against the linoleum, just to pass the time.

She didn’t know if the constant tick, tick, tick was better or worse than silence.

Jolene smiled weakly at her, noticing Sylvia’s blank stare and thinking she needed something (really, Sylvia had just been zoned out, feeling like she’d been in a trance from the hypnotic sound of the clock). “Sorry you gotta be here, hun. It’s just as dead as usual.”

“It’s fine,” Sylvia murmured. “It’s not your fault Boss thinks he’s God or something and needs to keep us in prison.”

Jolene chuckled at that – in the way someone laughs at you when they don’t find the joke all that funny. “God or summ’,” she repeated to herself, turning away to wipe some imagined dust off the counter.

Sylvia found herself watching as Jolene moved around the stools and bar. The latter was a curvy woman, probably what some would’ve called a ‘southern belle’ in her youth. Two kids and a husband who worked long hours wore her down, though, and her job was her only escape from that monotony. She often looked older than she was with the dark circles that colored under her eyes and the wrinkles forming around her lips. Despite that, she was almost certainly the peppiest member of the staff and subsequently got the best tips.

The bell chiming pulled her from her thoughts, and both waitresses turned toward the door, eyes flashing with curiosity and eyebrows raising in surprise.

A man stood next to the first booth, hands tucked into the back pockets of his jeans. He looked boyish, but he towered over Sylvia by at least a foot, thin and willowy. His blonde hair fell into his eyes, and it looked frizzy enough to indicate he probably had kept brushing it away and then given up. Once he noticed Sylvia’s eyes on him, he gave her a crooked grin and a little wave before tucking his hand back in his pocket.

“Can I help you?” Sylvia asked, putting on a bright smile and grabbing a menu from the counter. “We ain’t had many customers today, so we’ll have to brew a fresh pot of coffee if you’d like a cup.”

The man gave another toothy grin that stretched a bit too wide. “Aw, no ma’am, that’s alright. I’ll just take a water, please.”

“Comin’ right up. You can sit anywhere you’d like to, hun. We’re dead as can be.” Something about his smile had been off putting, sending a chill down her arms, but she kept up the cheery demeanor. Just ‘cause you don’t like him grinning like that don’t mean you slip up, Sylvie, she thought to herself.

“Thank you very much,” he answered, sweeping around to perch in the booth closest to the door.

Jolene had come back out from the kitchen where she’d been with Cook to see who Sylvia was speaking to. “Good mornin’ to you. What’s a young fella like you doing out here in the middle of nowhere?” Always the charmer, she could use that to snoop into everybody’s business when they came in – quite a talent, really. It made her a good gossip, which had both its perks and drawbacks for those she spoke to.

“Just passing through, ma’am.”

“Oh, no need for that. Just call me Jo.” She laid down a set of silverware and a handful of napkins, glancing up as Sylvia came back with a glass of ice water. “Got business in town?”

The man looked out the window, a not-quite-a-smile flashing across his lips. “You could say that.”

Jolene didn’t seem to notice his face. “Well, hun, a man like you’s gotta need a hearty meal, right? We’ve got a nice bacon cheeseburger meal, but if you’re looking for breakfast, I’m sure Cook wouldn’t mind grilling up some eggs for ya. What’s your name, hunny?”

“Randall Harrison, ma’am. That cheeseburger sounds real nice.” He ran a hand through his hair, most of it staying back but a few strands falling back into his face.

“You got it, hun. Jus’ yell if you need anything else.”

Sylvia followed Jolene back to the kitchen, the latter giving the ticket to Cook. “Don’t you think he’s a little young to be havin’ business? It’s a small town anyways, nobody wants to go there. Especially not this time of year.”

Jolene gave a chortle and nudged the younger woman with her shoulder. “Now don’t go all detective-y on the poor man.”

“It’s just a little weird to me,” she defended.

Jolene arched a brow at her. “Weird for somebody to wanna grab a bite in this heat?”

“I’m just saying—“

“For the love of all things holy, don’t go bugging ‘im.”

Sylvia stared at Jolene for a moment, waiting to see if she’d cave at all. When she didn’t, Sylvia finally answered, “Fine, I’ll leave it be.”

The pair looked over at Randall, who was now doodling on a napkin with a pen — who knows where he got the red ballpoint. His brow was furrowed in concentration as he glared down at his work.

“Go keep him company,” Jolene commanded. “He came out here lookin’ for a meal, not to be lonely.”

“Yes’m,” Sylvia grumbled in resignation, walking back to the booth.

Randall looked up as she approached. “What time is it?”

“Oh, it’s—“ a look toward the clock, the second hand still tick, tick, ticking— “11:36, hun. Somethin’ you’re waiting for?”

“Just a few more minutes, then.” He caught Sylvia’s eyes and grinned, but this time, the boyishness had disappeared from his face. The warmth of his smile didn’t reach his eyes, feeling forced and icy cold. A blink, and the look was gone, and he was back to doodling.

She swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. “What kind of business do you got in town?”

“Why’s it matter?” he asked her.

She shrugged, trying to be nonchalant. “Curiosity, I s’pose?”

He didn’t bother to look back up at her as he scribbled faster. “The important kind.”

“What does that mean?”

A deathly moment of silence ensued as he stared at her. It was a chilling kind of stare, the sort that makes somebody feel more like a mouse in an owl’s claws than a person. There was a knowing gleam to his eye, and though she was certain he couldn’t have heard the conversation from here, Sylvia felt that he knew what she’d said back in the kitchen. “You’re a bright girl, Sylvia,” Randall responded at last. “You’re suspicious of me, right? But your ditzy coworker there isn’t. Your cook probably isn’t, either. You wanna know why?”

Sylvia threw a look over her shoulder and searched for Jolene, wondering why the man’s food wasn’t out here already. Having someone out here, maybe he wouldn’t be saying such strange things. No dice, though — she couldn’t even hear her coworkers speaking to each other.

“Do you want to know why?” he asked again, more insistent.

“Yes?” she stuttered, hesitating before meeting his gaze once more.

He smirked. “Check what time it is again.”

“11:36.” Wait, still?

“Something about that doesn’t feel natural, does it?”

She jerked up from the seat, an invisible weight settling on her chest. “No, the clock is just… It’s just broken.”

“It always ticks. How else do you pass the time but to listen? This is the first time it’s been silent, isn’t it, Sylvia? Is the silence nice?” Randall taunted.

The waitress shook her head. “No, it has to be broken. That’s all.” I don’t care how weird it is, the clock is just broken. That’s how things go, they break. It’s not its fault for bad timing. It’s just a coincidence.

He stood up to face her, his height so much more than hers, making her feel scared and small and insignificant. “What more proof do you need? Do you want the sun to go dark? Locusts to swarm the windows? Do you want me to turn the water in the faucets to blood? Would you rather that I don red horns and fiery robes to prove to you who I am?”

A look at her hands showed her how badly she was shaking, tears welling up behind her eyes and knees shuddering against each other. “You’re insane. Demons don’t really exist, you’re just a person.”

Randall leaned in, an icy cool hand roughly grabbing her chin to yank her gaze to meet his. “You poor thing, telling yourself lies to make yourself feel better.”

“If you’re really a demon, why are you here?”

“To deliver justice.” His eyes seemed to flash red, and though Sylvia didn’t believe him, she didn’t think that she imagined the shift in color. “Do you know how awful the people in that small little town next door are? Liars, thieves, whores, murderers. The whole bunch of them. Men taking advantage of women for fun, teens getting high on the strong stuff, people in power begging for cash they don’t need, spouses with double lives. Why that town attracts those folks, I can’t say, but it does. A little haven where no one looks twice and everyone pretends they know nothing. I think it’s time that the lot finds out what karma waits for them, don’t you think?”

She was frozen in her slip ons, but Sylvia managed to gasp, “You’re lying to me. I know my neighbors, and none of them are what you’re saying.”

“Then you don’t really know them, girl. You’re one of the few innocents, but even Jolene and Cook aren’t. Have you ever met Jolene’s husband? She killed him last year in a rage before burying his body in the backyard. Have you wondered how Cook has such a nice house on the salary this place has? His brother is a drug lord, and in return for recommending his brother to any drug addict he comes across, he gets a good cut of it. Even your boss is an asshole - working you to death and further, all so he can take the profits and pay you barely enough to survive.” He finally released her chin, pushing her into a chair and just watching as she landed on its seat. “You’re blind to it all, but it’s time you figured it out.”

Sylvia watched as the man stalked back to where Jolene and Cook were, as she found herself glued to the chair and unable to even call out their names. Through the order window, she could finally see them, frozen in place by the stove mid conversation. Jolene’s mouth was open in what looked like a laugh, and Cook had a spatula still grasped in his palm as he went to flip a burger.

Randall reached them and reached a hand towards each, the air suddenly static around him. Two fingers touched both Cook’s and Jolene’s foreheads, and it was like the light and life was sucked from them. Both went limp but still stood, their eyes losing their shine and falling shut. Their skin dulled and hair lost its volume as Randall drew his hands away.

Finally, Sylvia was able to find her words, air rushing down her throat as if her chest was a vacuum. “What the fuck?” she yelled.

He quickly returned to her, standing solemnly over her. “I’m sparing you, Sylvia. You’ll find a good amount of cash in your accounts, and no one will ask questions. You go find somewhere else to be and a better job. Forget about this place and this day, and you’ll be just fine. Don’t do anything wrong, and you’ll never see me again.”

“Did you just kill them?!”

“I’m not going to kill you, so does it matter?”

“You killed them!”

Randall glared at her before turning towards the door. “Take my advice, Sylvia. You’re a smart girl. Do better.”

Her body shook so hard that the chair legs were clacking against the linoleum floor. “You just fucking killed my friends in front of me!”

With a sigh, he turned back around and touched two fingers to Sylvia’s forehead. The air was crackling again with static but subtler. “This isn’t your death. I keep my promises. You just need to relax and think straight.”

Her vision began to swim, then go dark. She swayed sideways before falling to the floor with a crack. Pain lanced through her head, a small cry leaking from her throat. She refused to succumb to the darkness, though, and kept her eyes trained on Randall’s figure moving towards the door.

What she didn’t expect, just as the darkness consumed her — horns seemed to sprout from his head and curl around his ears, bat-like wings sprung from his shoulder blades, and fire outlined each step as he lifted his foot from the floor.

He isn’t a demon, is he — he’s the Devil himself.

The door slammed behind him, and finally the clock began to tick, tick, tick again.

[madsthewordclown]

Fire Lily | Pt. 12

warnings: none

a/n: Sorry this took me this long, guys! I’m back in school and am a little bit busier now, but I promise I’ll update as much as I can! Be warned that I did write a portion of this chapter with Can We Sing the Darkness to Light in my brain (it’s a choral piece and I’m a nerd lol) and so I probably found some of what I wrote a lot more emotionally compelling than it is due to my fragile state of mind when I hear a good tenor part. Whoops.

This chapter takes place during “The Headband.” The story kind of stalls for a bit here in the aftermath of Crossroads of Destiny, so I’m sorry about that, but I promise I’ve got some more exciting things planned for later!

Fire Lily Masterlist

The Fire Nation was weird. It was a thought that Y/N couldn’t get out of her head. Everywhere Y/N had been in the Earth Kingdom (besides Ba Sing Se, which was strange and creepy within its own right), had had the shadow of war looming over it constantly. Here, it was like it didn’t exist.

There was no fear in the Fire Nation, not like there was in the Earth Kingdom, and nothing like what Katara and Sokka had described about the Southern Water Tribe. Here, they weren’t constantly on alert. They could relax. Somehow, the Fire Nation had always been on the offensive. These people didn’t know what it was like, hearing about armies creeping closer to your home.

It was also strange to think about how Zuko lived there. The Fire Nation was his home. Y/N was letting herself think about Zuko now, every once in a while. She let herself think about Jet, too. She thought of him every time she picked up her swords to spar with Sokka. She thought of him every time she lit their fire at night.

They were staying in a cave outside of the village, and it gave Y/N the heebie-jeebies. She didn’t like how dark and damp it was, and it made her feel trapped. Toph felt right at home, surrounded on all sides by earth. Meanwhile, Sokka couldn’t get past the threat of “enemy birds.”

“They’re Fire Nation birds, guys,” Sokka insisted, waving his arms frantically to deter the birds in question.

“They’re birds, Sokka,” Katara corrected, rolling her eyes.

“So, this is how it’s going to be until the invasion.” Sokka looked around at their surroundings—the cave, some rocks, grass.

“Hiding in cave after cave after cave…” Y/N shuddered, glaring at the mouth of the cave.

“We don’t need to be cave people,” Katara said, putting a reassuring hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “What we need is some new clothes.”

“Yeah,” Aang agreed, “blending in is better than hiding out. We’ll be safer with Fire Nation disguises.”

As much as Y/N hated wearing Fire Nation clothes, she hated constant cave-living more. “I like that plan.”

“We don’t want to sit around and eat cave hoppers,” Toph said, hitting the cave wall. A few of the bugs came tumbling onto the ground, and Momo scooped one up and ate it with a chomp. Y/N winced. “They have much better food out there.”

“Well, where are we going to get clothes?” Sokka questioned, crossing his arms. “We don’t have nearly enough money.”

Y/N thought for a moment. “We could just steal some. I thought I saw some clotheslines when we flew in.”

The others stared at her for a moment.

“Desperate times call for desperate measures?” Y/N added, uncertainly. Yes, they were the “good guys,” but they also needed clothes, and no one had any better ideas.

“Okay,” Katara agreed quickly. “Let’s go.”

---

As it turned out, stealing had been very fun. Y/N wondered briefly if that made her a bad person, but she had managed to find a ribbon for her hair, and the feeling of having it away from her face made her question her morals a lot less.

Y/N did try her best to find something that wasn’t red, to no avail. Soon, they were all clad in their Fire Nation getup. It felt a lot better than the soldier’s uniform, but Y/N still wasn’t sold on the red. Sokka and Aang seemed to be enjoying themselves, though, and Aang seemed a lot less upset about covering up his arrow.

Y/N was very unsure about the sleeveless red top and dark grey pants that she was left with. But it was definitely better than her tattered dress, and the ensemble was easier to move in. She liked how her arms were completely free, and the long pants made the grass let scratchy.

Katara and Toph looked great in their outfits, although Katara did seem upset about having to remove her necklace, and Toph had already punched the soles out of her new shoes. They made the unanimous decision to go into town and get some shopping done with the money they had left.

“Here.” Y/N took her own money out of her bag, as well as the gold cup with her family crest. “We can all use this. I don’t really need it anymore.”

It was time to let go of the cup. It would be useful to them, at least. And there were plenty more heirlooms in her family. And now, standing side by side with the Avatar, two of the most powerful benders in the world, and Sokka, in his genius, Y/N felt more confident than ever that maybe she’d be able to make it back home. Her father could forgive her for getting rid of the cup. Her mother thought it was ugly, anyway.

“Are you sure?” Aang asked with some concern. Y/N nodded.

“It’ll be more useful to us if we trade it,” Y/N insisted. Besides, the cup was just another reminder of Ba Sing Se.

“Wait.” Katara stopped Y/N as the others turned to leave. “Your hair. The ponytail is too low. The Fire Nation has them higher.”

“Oh.” Y/N didn’t know why she hadn’t thought of it. She pulled the deep red ribbon out of her hair.

“Here, let me help,” Katara said, pulling the ribbon from Y/N’s hands. Y/N was tall, so she had to crouch a bit, allowing Katara to secure her hair into a ponytail that sat towards the crown of her head.

“Better,” Katara hummed approvingly. She took Y/N’s hand. “Now let’s go.”

The village they were in was vibrant and peaceful, Y/N noticed. There were plenty of people around, and Y/N hadn’t seen any soldiers yet. The group decided it was safe to split up if they wanted to. Y/N followed Toph and Katara to a jewelry booth.

Y/N helped Katara pick out a new necklace, and Toph donned a small crown. Y/N was a bit surprised—Toph didn’t seem like the type to appreciate jewelry. Y/N bought a set of matching gold bangles to put on her wrists.

“You know,” Katara suggested as she secured the necklace around her throat, “we could get you something for your swords. I know Jet had something like that.” Katara’s voice caught on Jet’s name for just a moment before recovering.

It would very useful, Y/N knew. She could always bend, but she felt like Katara could tell she had mixed feelings about it. Plus, she knew more about wielding the swords than proper firebending.

After a lot of scouring, Toph managed to locate a store for weaponry. Y/N asked the shopkeeper for advice on what to look for. He had seemed confused for a moment, and Y/N remembered that hook swords probably weren’t a common choice here—she had read once in her library that they were a traditional weapon from the northern Earth Kingdom. But luckily, the shopkeeper hadn’t asked any questions and directed her to the right area.

Y/N ended up settling on a belt-like sheath, with two loops at her hips that the hooked points of the sword easily fit through, but it would get stuck at the handle, holding the swords securely but still allowing for Y/N to pull them out without much trouble.

“Six gold pieces,” the shopkeeper said in an unnecessarily loud voice. Y/N frowned. They only had a few silver pieces and the cup left, and Sokka and Aang had the rest of the money. Y/N pulled the cup out of her bag and set it on the counter.

“I’ll trade this for it.” The shopkeeper’s eyes widened.

“Where did you get that?” He asked, eyeing the piece. It looked as if he thought it was fake; he picked it up and tapped it on the counter a few times.

“I’m from the colonies,” Y/N said. It wasn’t a complete lie. Technically, she was. The man gave her a brief look of disgust.

“It’s worth more than what you’re asking,” Y/N pressed, tapping a beat on the counter impatiently. She hoped he wouldn’t ask more questions or say anything about what his sour face was for.

“Deal,” the man said finally, taking the cup and stashing it behind the counter. Y/N felt surprisingly little as she watched it disappear from sight, and any wisps of sadness were expunged when she secured the belt around her waist.

Y/N walked back with Katara and Toph to their cave hideout. Sokka was already waiting, but Aang was nowhere to be found.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Y/N reassured. “There aren’t very many soldiers in this village, and his tattoos are covered.”

“Yeah, Twinkle Toes can handle himself,” Toph agreed, plopping down onto the grass.

“Hey, Y/N?” Sokka called, waving his arm. “Want to look over some of these plans with me?”

Before Y/N could respond, Katara was speaking. “You never ask me to help you with that stuff.”

“Hey,” Sokka protested. “You and Aang and Toph handle the bending, and Y/N and I will handle the plans. No offense, Y/N.”

“None taken.” Y/N knew her bending was almost useless—she could light their fire at night, but other than that she only knew a few basic moves. In a true bending fight, she was done for.

Y/N walked over to join Sokka, sitting on the grass in front of a rock that he was using as a makeshift table. Y/N was a bender, sure, but it was nice to have a non-bender around. Y/N wasn’t comfortable with her bending like the others, who were all masters of their own elements when she had never even had a formal teacher.

“I tried looking into that boiling rock you were talking about a bit more,” Sokka explained, spreading a map across the rock that he hadn’t shown her before. It was an older map of the Fire Nation—Y/N wasn’t sure where he got it.

“I couldn’t come up with much, but my guess is somewhere like that would probably be in one of the more volcanic regions of the Fire Nation.”

“But why would my brother be in the Fire Nation?” Y/N wondered aloud.

“What?” Sokka looked at her in confusion, an eyebrow raised. “You’re looking for your brother?”

“Um…” Y/N hummed awkwardly. “Yeah. He was arrested by the Fire Nation before I left home. I had a weird dream a few days ago, and he said something about a boiling rock.” She could tell Sokka was looking at her sympathetically, although she made a point to focus her eyes on the map.

“I know it’s a long shot,” Y/N acknowledged, “but I thought I’d at least try.”

“No, I totally get it,” Sokka shrugged. “You want him to be safe. I get that. He’s your brother.”

“I feel like it’s my fault,” Y/N admitted. “I didn’t help him. I actually made the situation worse.” Y/N gave a dry laugh. “I don’t know if he’d want to see me.”

“Of course he wants to see you.” Sokka looked affronted. “He’s your brother, and you’re supposed to take care of each other.”

“Yes,” Y/N groaned, “but I didn’t!”

“He’s your older brother, right?” Sokka clarified, his head echoing your nod in response.

“Well,” Sokka paused, as if searching for the right words, “as an older brother, I’m sure he wants to see you. And Y/N, I know it’s hard when you want to protect someone, and you fail.” Sokka’s eyes were filled with a sadness that made Y/N want to reach out and hug him, but she held off.

“But that doesn’t mean that that person is going to be angry at you,” Sokka continued carefully. Y/N felt like he was reassuring himself as much as he was her. “And even if you fail, you can keep doing everything you can to protect the people you care about. And I’m sure that he wants to do the same for you.”

“Thanks, Sokka,” Y/N said softly, her eyes beginning to water. Before she could back away, Sokka was pulling her into a hug.

Y/N hugged him back. She realized she hadn’t hugged anyone since… well, before she left home. They stayed there for a moment, before Sokka pulled away.

“Ready to review my schedule?” Sokka asked, suddenly upbeat. He unrolled a scroll that spread all the way across the rock and down onto the grass.

“Oh my…” The entire thing was color-coded. Y/N wondered where he got the ink for that. “Hand me a pen.”

Sokka smiled as they went to work.

---

Aang returned to camp later in the afternoon and was properly lectured by Katara. Sokka was completely appalled.

“You’re enrolled in Fire Nation school?” Sokka asked for the tenth time. Aang’s answer didn’t change.

“Yes. And we learn about the secret river tomorrow!” Aang reminded them. The secret river was the only thing getting Sokka to moderately accept the idea. Y/N thought Sokka was too easily persuaded by weird sneak-attack opportunities. “But I can’t go back unless I bring my parents to meet with the headmaster right now.”

“Y/N can be a pretty convincing actress,” Toph suggested. “Not for me, since I can tell when you’re lying, but others seem pretty convinced.”

“Sokka, Y/N,” Aang pleaded, “will you pretend to be my parents?”

“Sure,” Y/N agreed. If Aang really wanted to go to this school, she would help. She remembered how much she wished she could go to school. While it was still far from a normal experience… Aang deserved to have some fun like a regular kid.

“I don’t know,” Sokka murmured, looking contemplative.

“Secret river, Sokka!”

“Fine,” Sokka gave in. “But first we need to get our disguises!”

“Disguises?” Y/N echoed, but Sokka was already running off, Aang following enthusiastically behind him.

When Sokka and Aang returned, Y/N almost died from laughter. The beard plastered to Sokka’s face was ridiculous. She had no clue where he got it.

“Y/N, make your hair look more mature and put this in your shirt,” Sokka ordered, holding out a bundle of cloth fashioned into a smooth round shape. It looked like a bag stuff with wool.

“What?”

Sokka sighed exasperatedly. “Do you want to be convincing or not?”

“Fine.”

Y/N felt ridiculous and was pretty sure she looked almost as ridiculous as Sokka as Aang led them into the school building. Y/N noticed how everything inside seemed a little bit short, and portraits of Fire Lord Ozai hung on the walls, Fire Nation insignias everywhere. Y/N had never seen the Fire Lord’s face before until Aang had brought back his macaroni portrait.

Zuko didn’t look like him, Y/N noticed. Ozai’s face was sharp—Zuko’s was kinder. But Y/N found herself imagining Zuko on that poster, with his shaggy hair and scar, and that look on his face when he fired at the Avatar.

Y/N took a seat with Sokka and Aang as they entered the headmaster’s office. The headmaster was a severe-looking man with the same beard, sideburns, and thin mustache that all of the Fire Nation men Y/N had met seemed to have. He greeted them as they took their seats.

“Thank you for coming, Mr. and Mrs…”

“Fire,” Sokka replied haughtily. His accent was atrocious. “Wang Fire.” Y/N held back a snort.

“And this is my wife,” Sokka gestured to Y/N, “Sapphire.”

It took everything in Y/N’s power to not roll her eyes. “Sapphire Fire. Nice to meet you.”

“Well, Mr. and Mrs.,” the headmaster paused, “Fire. Your son has been enrolled here for two days and is already causing problems. He’s argued with his history teacher, disrupted music class, and roughed up my star pupil.”

“That doesn’t sound like our Kuzon!” Y/N said, giving Aang a discrete bump of her elbow when he smiled.

“That’s what any mother would say, ma’am,” the headmaster responded. “Nonetheless, you’re forewarned. If we continue to have problems, I’ll have to send him to reform school.”

“Reform school?” Y/N asked.

“By that, I mean the coal mines.” The headmaster stood, glaring down at them.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Headmaster,” Sokka said. Y/N wanted to facepalm. “I’ll straighten this boy out something fierce!” Sokka turned to Aang. “Young man, when we get home, you’re in for the punishment of a lifetime!”

The headmaster seemed rather satisfied with that response, nodding with a slight smirk.

“Thank you for informing us of our son’s behavior,” Y/N told him, trying to sound professional to make up for Sokka’s over-the-top character. “Goodbye.”

“Success!” Sokka cheered as soon as they were out of earshot. Y/N punched his arm.

“Wang Fire?” Y/N questioned incredulously.

“What? It’s a good name!” Sokka whined, rubbing the spot on his arm.

“Sapphire Fire?” Aang added with a smirk.

“Okay, so maybe that one wasn’t my best,” Sokka admitted, stroking his beard.

“Will you please get rid of that thing?” Y/N already didn’t like how much Sokka was enjoying his fake facial hair.

“Never,” Sokka replied with a smile.

Fire Lily Masterlist

taglist: @kaylove12, @akariblue, @wolfiemichele, @aquatickanye, @sunflowerr-mami, @nadiblue. @la3divine, @sarsky, @aangsupremacy 

#atla fanfic #atla #zuko x reader #eventual zuko x reader #zuko x y/n #the gaang #the gang #atla x reader #wang fire #sapphire fire #kuzon

[jamespotterthefirst]

Along the Seashore

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 2K Warning: Language Summary: A moment between the two of them in a Miami beach, before they kissed and everything changed forever.   Series: Open Heart from Ethan’s POV

Author’s Note: Sorry that the Miami weekend had to be split into parts. It actually gave me the freedom to write without worrying about the length. 

The glittering turquoise waters of the lagoon combined with the gentle breeze sweeping through his hair made it increasingly difficult to remain in a sullen mood after the Declan Nash debacle only minutes prior. It was even more of a challenge to sulk when Lilac strolled by his side along the white beach, looking so beautiful under the Miami sun that his heart tugged with unwelcome yearning. He stole another glance at her without her notice, watching how tendrils of her wavy hair swirled in the breeze. That and the sun kissed patches along her nose and cheekbones made it damn near impossible for Ethan to look away. By the admiration she attracted from others, Ethan was far from the only one to notice. 

They had made it several meters down the shore when she finally broke their silence. 

“You look hot, Dr. Ramsey.” 

He almost froze midstep. 

“In that sweater,” she clarified. 

Mercifully, he was spared from any type of stammered response when someone whisked him away for conversation. The relief was short-lived when that someone was yet another starstruck colleague, eager to chat his ear off. 

By the time he got away twenty minutes later, the young doctor was nowhere to be found. It wasn't until he scanned his surroundings that he found her, being pulled into an outdoor dance floor of some sort at the foot of a nearby hotel. As Ethan approached, he could see the beefy arm around her, belonging to an overly enthusiastic frat boy.  

“Baila conmigo, mami.” 

“I can't right now, I have work—” 

“Then how about later tonight, hermosa?”

“How about never.”

The gruff, murderous words had escaped Ethan before he could stop them. 

The cheerful frat boy only laughed, raising his palms in defeat. Probably best, for his sake, because Ethan itched to punch him in his squared jaw. 

Lilac, meanwhile, looked mortified as Ethan steered her away.

“Sorry,” she started breathlessly once they had made their way back to the shore. “I know you said this trip was strictly business, but he was so insistent. I wasn’t slacking off or anything—”

Ethan raised a hand to stop her, careful to keep his expression neutral. “Relax, Rookie,” he assured her. “I wasn’t worried about that. I was mostly thinking about you.”

Their eyes met, the true meaning of the words becoming more tangible by the second. Neither the roar of the crashing waves nor the thumping music of the revelry he had pulled her from were enough to mask the tense silence between them. 

“You looked uncomfortable,” he blurted out, his voice an octave higher than it should be. The tiny haze was effectively broken with the words. 

Perhaps she was uncomfortable then, with him, as he gazed at her with barely controlled longing. He clenched his jaw with the effort, certain now more than ever that she could see just how much he wanted her, and had been wanting her for weeks. 

Ethan cleared his throat. “I only meant that even though this is a work trip, you can still enjoy yourself. Particularly when the whole point of being here became moot half an hour ago.” His mind recalled Nash’s triumphant face and Ethan’s fist clenched as a response. 

Lilac offered him a sympathetic smile, placing a warm hand on his forearm and scalding him more than the blazing sun above their heads ever could. It took every ounce of strength Ethan had to avoid glancing at it.

“We will figure something out. The weekend is only starting and every slimy Big Pharma exec has his price.” 

Ethan knew she was correct about the last part and his desperation to save Naveen made him willing to pay whatever that price might be. Regardless, he couldn’t help but smile at her unwavering optimism, particularly when her hand swept his bicep in comforting strokes. The motion was so comforting that Ethan was tempted to lay down his pride and every wall he meticulously built to bring her closer to him. 

With a reinvigorated spark in her green eyes and a smile to match, she said, “What you need, Dr. Ramsey, is a good swim.” 

She nodded toward the crystalline waters glittering like a gem. The taunting smirk she failed to conceal, left him thinking she was determined to get him shirtless. Or perhaps it was wishful thinking on his part. With an embarrassing leap of his pulse, Ethan realized he would willingly do it if she commanded it. 

“Fine,” he acquiesced, earning him an astonished expression. The way her rosy lips parted in surprise then melted into a satisfied smile made her far more irresistible than she had any right to look. That reaction alone was worth agreeing to something he would normally never even consider. 

“Okay. Confession time,” she said with a sharp intake of breath. “I'm not that great of a swimmer.”

Ethan smirked, enjoying the endearing blush on her cheeks. “Then why did you suggest it, Rookie?” 

“Because I didn't think you would agree?” 

He laughed and though she tried to throw him a sharp glare, the corners of her mouth quirked. 

“I'll be fine. I just won't go in that deep.”

Before he could assure her they didn't have to go in at all, she pulled her t-shirt over her head. A furious blush crept up from his neck all the way to the roots of his hair as Ethan hastily averted his eyes. He had not been quick enough, however, because he still caught sight of the smooth expanse of her bare stomach, the delicate muscles pulling taut as she removed her clothing. His eyes also managed to take in the top half of the strappy, neon orange bikini she wore. 

Never in his life did he imagine such an obnoxious color could be so…attractive. 

When at last he forced himself to meet her eyes, she looked back at him expectantly, looking as though she was about to lose the battle against an amused smirk. 

“Are you going in with your cable-knit sweater, Dr. Ramsey?” 

Ethan cut her a humorless glare before he removed the aforementioned sweater and all layers until only his swimming trunks remained. Unlike him, she did not avert her eyes. Instead, Lilac's gaze ascended from his abs to his chest and arms, tracing a path so stirring, it felt as though she was caressing him with strokes of her fingertips. 

Her eyes met his, her expression frustratingly stoic. “We need sunscreen.”

Thankfully, it was the type that she sprayed on. Ethan would have lost all restraint if her hands had rubbed sunscreen over his muscles. When at last they were in the cool water, bodies swaying in the waves, he was able to  slightly relax. 

“You were right,” he informed her, peering down at her. The water reached her neck while barely made it past his chest. 

“I usually am, but about what precisely?” 

“I do feel better.”

He suspected that had little to do with the lull of the ocean or the calming breeze and more with her presence by his side. She gifted him with a smile so radiant, he felt his body gravitate towards hers.

Ethan looked away, searching for change of subject.

“So are you the only person from Southern California who doesn't swim?”

Lilac gave him an unimpressed look. It inspired a chuckle from Ethan. 

“Do you think everyone in SoCal spends their days at the beach, loves In-N-Out, and says 'like' every other word?” 

“Yes.”

Her nose wrinkled in defeat. “Well, you get two out of three.”

“If you start using 'like' excessively, I'll never speak to you again.”

It was her turn to laugh. “You're a terrible liar, Dr. Ramsey,” she proclaimed. “You couldn't go a day without my pain in the ass tendencies annoying the life out of you.”

“Hrm. You're absolutely right, Rookie. I would miss the five shots I have to throw back at the end of the day to repress your antics.”

Her responding laughter was so captivating, all he could do was watch her with a satisfied grin of his own. Lilac opened her mouth and Ethan had no doubt she had a witty retort at the ready. However, she was brashly interrupted by a swelling wave crashing unceremoniously over her head. 

Ethan, being so tall, had easily sidestepped the water. Lilac, significantly shorter, had not been so lucky. 

“Rookie, are you okay?” 

Lilac only sputtered in response, blinking rapidly against the water dripping down her face. Her brown hair, previously immaculate and flowing in the breeze, now lay plastered against her face. Even completely shocked and sopping wet, she still managed to look entirely too adorable. 

Before Ethan could stop it, an unbridled bout of laughter escaped past his throat. Once it was out, ringing around them and earning them quizzical looks from other people, it was impossible to stop. As he laughed—truly, genuinely laughed—a spike of lighthearted warmth shot through him and his stomach muscles began to strain. Ethan could not remember the last time he had laughed so much or so freely. Perhaps not since he was a boy. 

“Are you done?” she asked, completely unamused. 

The question only made his laughter peak even more. It was soon disrupted by an impressive slosh of water against his face and chest, not from a wave but from the vengeful young doctor before him. Completely sobered up, Ethan blinked. 

It was Lilac's turn to laugh, unabashed. 

“Doesn't feel so—”

Her words cut and gave way to a small shriek as Ethan recovered and palmed a small wave of water her way, hitting her square in the face. Lilac retaliated at lightning speed and sent a torrent towards him. 

“I hope you realize what you’ve done, Rookie.” He propelled splash after splash of water with relentless speed. “You started a war.”

“I can take you,” she laughed, shielding her face from the wall of water coming her way. 

Ethan discovered she was correct, proving to be a worthy adversary. It was admirable that someone so much shorter than him could send bursts of water straight for his face. They laughed in unison, the sound teetering on the border of pure giddiness. As the minutes ticked by, their efforts reduced significantly, mostly out of exhaustion.

“Truce?” she breathed out. 

“Not a chance, Rookie,” he returned, not ceasing his movements. 

Lilac laughed, covering her face to no avail. She attempted a cautionary step back, as if distance would deter his attack, but she seemed to stumble, losing her balance. At once, Ethan stopped his movements, diving forward to catch her in his arms before she sank under the water. 

Body pressed close against his, she wrapped her arms around his neck, the movement so natural as though it was second nature. His own arms locked securely around her waist, lifting her slightly off her feet and bringing their bodies even closer together. At this proximity, Ethan was certain she could feel the untamed beating of his heart against his chest. Then again, she could probably see his agony written on his face with how closely she studied him. 

Neither moved to break apart, all traces of previous humor gone. 

“Dr. Ramsey,” she breathed. 

His breath hitched at the low, caress of a whisper. How he wished she would call him Ethan. The mere thought of his name on her lips tugged something loose in his chest. 

The longer they stood like that, in each other’s arms, the harder it became to let her go. Could he let her go? Common sense suggested he should abandon the fantasy of her lips against his, vivid in his mind for weeks now. He should let go of Lilac Allende and keep as much distance as a mentor should have. He should let go… 

And yet… 

“I give up,” he said so quietly that his voice almost got lost in the waves. 

Lilac smiled at that, much to his confusion. “Smart man,” she teased. “I told you I could take you on.”

Ethan released her, her body slowly sliding down his. She was talking about their small water fight, which Ethan had almost forgotten about. 

“Right,” he said, keeping his voice neutral. It was nothing compared to the chaotic uproar in his chest. “We should go back to the hotel. There’s a reception we should start getting for.”

“A reception?” 

“Did I not tell you? It’s a complete waste of time, but we might as well enjoy free drinks on Big Pharma’s dime.” 

They walked back to their hotel in a silence that felt too sacred to break. His mind replayed the memory of Lilac in his arms, her body fitting so perfectly against his, her green eyes studying his face so intently, her lush lips so close to his. 

He could have kissed her. 

Would she have kissed him back?

“Thank you,” Ethan said after a few minutes of peaceful quiet. It was a desperate attempt to stop his mind from veering into dangerous territory. 

Lilac looked at him, confused. 

“For earlier with Nash,” he explained. “But also, thank you for right now.”

“Glad to be of service,” she returned with a mock salute that made him laugh despite his better judgement. The again, judgement had been thrown out the window the minute he decided to bring her to Miami. 

________

Author’s Note: THANK YOU if you read this. The reason I wanted to include this into the Miami weekend was that I’ve been imagining a little scene like this for a while. I’ve been wanting to write it out since before I wrote Lovely and I thought this would be the perfect opportunity. Thank you for putting up with my shenanigans. 

The next part is the kiss for sure. I can’t wait to write that :) I was closed to naming it after the actual chapter (Risk and Reward), but I decided to name it after an ABBA song. LMAO!

Thank You @aestheticartwriting​ for your help with this! 

PS: What do you guys think of the new style for the cover moodboard? I wanted to try something new!

_______

Tags: @openheart12 | @ethandaddyramsey | @noboundariesplease | @silverlitskies |  @flyawayboo | @paulfwesley | @hatescapsicum | @myusualnerdyself | @thatysn | @choicesyouplayandmore | @chasingrobbie | @trappedinfandoms | @togetherwearerapture | @nooruleman | @axwalker | @parkerattano | @i-bloody-love-drake-walker | @kaavyaethanramsey | @edith-eggs1 | @choices-lurker | @jens-diamondchoices | @tefigranger | @ethanrcmsey | @coffeebeandragon | @senator-adrian-raines-wifey | @aestheticartwriting | @binny1985 | @mvalentine | @sanchita012 | @drethanramslay | @ramseysno1rookie | @takeharryandgo | @aworldoffandoms | @desmaranj  | @oofchoices | @ethxnrxmsey | @octobereighth | @kopenheart12 | @lilyvalentine​ | @honeyandsunfl0wers​ | @virtualrain202 | @enmchoices​ | @tyrilstouch​ | @rookie-ramsey​ | @humanpokemon​ | @apphia12​ | @kiara-36​ | @eramsey28​ | @whippedforethanramsey​ | @custaroonie​ | @helloblueeyedcat​ | @dr-ramseys-rookie​ | 

@dulceghernandez​ |  @lion-ess24 | @emotionalswift2 | @the-soot-sprite |  @angela8756

#Open Heart #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #playchoices #my writing #ethan ramsey fanfiction #ethan ramsey x mc #open heart fanfiction #choices fanfiction

[atla-hcs-and-bakoda]

Bato’s Backstory

ok so this is gonna be long, buckle up. This is my personal interpretation of bato’s backstory, it likely makes no canonical or reasonable sense, but canon does not exist and i make the rules. this is purely self-indulgent crack-treated-seriously. This is what all the other hcs, unless stated otherwise, will be set in.

Note about Bato: in my interpretation of him, he has teal/cyan eyes and darker brown hair than in the show, his skin tone has not changed.

(unfortunately this is not a zukka au, just a bakoda one. bato’s backstory is kind of an au in my mind, so when i do ship zukka, its not in this au)

(the bold letters at the beginning of the paragraphs are for accessibility)

‘Present’ (only a few months after zuko’s coronation) ages: Hakoda & Bato - 41 Kya - 42 Iroh - 65 Ozai - 47

under the cut because oh boy this is long, sorry asdfghfd

So, our story begins in the fire nation, about 59 AG, Iroh is the 25 year old crown prince, and recently had a child with his wife, Minami, on the coldest day of winter. They named him Shui, and they, quite frankly, spoilt him with their love. Minami stayed in the castle while Iroh was at war, and always sang to Shui while putting his hair up or putting him to bed.

One day, when Shui was 9, Azulon decided to take his family to Ember Islands on vacation, like the royal family has been doing for generations. However, there was a bad storm, and the ship got thrown near the south. Little Shui followed Iroh onto the deck, and fell overboard when a big wave hit the other side of the boat, rocking it and making him fall.

The royal family and crew tried to save him, but the waves dragged him under, and once the storm cleared, he was presumed dead. Iroh and Minami mourned the loss of their first son, who died so young that he hardly got to live life at all. Ozai mourned to a minor extent, as he was 15 at the time and wasn’t as bad as he is in the present, but not for as long as Shui’s parents, or grandfather, did.

Meanwhile, in the southern water tribe, little 9 year old Hakoda was wandering down at the seaside with his father when he came across a young boy unconscious in the snow, the cold water nearly freezing him to death. His father hurried him back to the tribe with the young boy’s body. For days, Hakoda sat beside the bed, rarely moving from the spot, keeping watch on the mystery boy. And eventually, he woke up.

Hakoda introduced himself once the boy was fully awake, but when asked his name, the boy said “i...i don’t remember...” So, instead, Hakoda decided to pick a name for him; Bato. The boy agreed to the name, and after a week, got adopted by one of the tribesmen, a close friend of Hakoda’s father. After that, the two children were an unstoppable duo, they did many successful pranks on everyone, including Hakoda’s mother, Kanna.

However, every once in a while, Bato would blurt out something without thinking, and when questioned, wouldn’t be able to remember it at all. For instance, Bato and Hakoda were once watching the stars late at night, when Bato pointed at a constellation and called it Druk. Hakoda laughed, but Bato insisted that was its name. Hakoda asked where Bato learned that, since thats not what their tribe calls it, and Bato had no recollection of learning it.

(This continued well into teenagehood, when Bato realised at the ripe old age of 14 that he was, in fact, in love with his best friend. He didn’t come out for a long time, in fear of his tribe’s reaction. Deep down he knew they’d accept him with open arms, but his anxiety said otherwise.)

At 12, there was a fire nation raid while Bato was at the seaside, and he recognised both the ship and flag instantly despite not being told prior about the Southern Raiders. He ran to tell the chief, and thanks to his quick reaction, saved the tribe to a degree. Many waterbenders still died, however.

At 15, Bato and Hakoda went ice-dodging with their respective fathers- and eachother. Hakoda recieved the mark of the wise, and Bato recieved the mark of the brave.

One night at 15, they were cuddling in Hakoda’s bed (because thats what best friends do, of course. its cold, no other reason, totally not) when Hakoda noticed Bato’s eye color; Teal. not the regular water tribe blue, not a dark blue, or even a light blue, but pure Teal. Although hakoda would still argue to this day that bato’s eyes are cyan. When questioned about his eye color, Bato shrugged and brushed it off as an uncommon trait. But Hakoda realised nobody else in the tribe had cyan eyes, just blue.

Then, at 16, the boys got into a bad avalanche that resulted in Hakoda getting knocked out. Bato woke up hours later, and pulled his best friend out of the snow. He realised Hakoda wasnt breathing, and started to cry, taking his gloves off to cling to Hakoda and try feel the warmth of his pulse, to no avail. He closed his eyes and cried, when his hands lit on fire. When he realised what he just did, he put the flame out and made a plan, carrying Hakoda to the dog sled quite a bit from the avalanche, and set them on course for the tribe while he carefully lit his hands back on fire after a few attempts, and kept Hakoda warm. 

Just before they got to the tribe, Hakoda started breathing again, shallowly, and his father quickly took both of them to the healer when they arrived back. This time, it was Bato who sat beside the bed and waited for Hakoda to wake up, refusing to eat much until his friend woke up.

He never told anyone about his bending.

A few months later, Hakoda met and started dating Kya, and Bato’s heart broke. he was happy for hakoda, he really was, but deep down it still hurt him to see him with someone else.

At 20, Hakoda’s father went off to war.  At 22, Hakoda became Chief, and Bato became the second-in-command.

At 23, Hakoda proposed to Kya after like 20 failed attempts at carving a betrothal necklace. Bato’s heart broke a tiny bit more, but he ignored it to be happy for his friend. Bato had to sleep alone for the first time since he joined the southern water tribe, he didn’t sleep much when alone.

2 years later, at 25, Sokka was born, and Bato babysat him a lot when Hakoda and Kya were busy. Bato admittedly vented to baby sokka quite a bit, and showed him very minor firebending tricks he practiced during sleepless nights, which was most nights.

At 26, Katara was born, and Bato now babysat two little children, both of which he adored with all his heart. He himself is infertile, so Katara and Sokka were the closest thing he had to his own children.

Things went mostly peacefully for years, until 34, when Kya got killed. After the raid, Hakoda wouldnt eat for days at a time, completely depressed and exhausted. Bato would offer him small plates of food and sit with him, letting him vent or cry or whatever Hakoda needed to do to get the stress and pain out. He also looked after Sokka and Katara while Hakoda couldn’t, and usually slept next to Hakoda’s bed, watching over the chief, along with his kids, as both children were terrified to sleep by themselves, Hakoda was scared of losing them, and Bato couldn’t bare the thought of not keeping them safe.

After years of recovering, Hakoda eventually had to head out to war with the men of the tribe, Bato included. Bato’s heart broke watching Sokka beg to come with them, but he knew it was for the best.

3 months after leaving, Bato came out to Hakoda in the Chieftan’s private room in the boat, and Hakoda accepted him with open arms, and promised to not tell anyone until Bato was ready. Bato fell a lot more in love.

At 5 months, he started very carefully dropping hints to Hakoda that he likes him, slightly-too-friendly-to-be-platonic compliments, cuddling him in hakoda’s room “because its cold” (they were nowhere near cold climates), and other vaugely homoerotic stuff like that. All of it went over Hakoda’s head.

(At 6 months he straight up told Hakoda at night on the deck “Your my stars, Hakoda. Whenever i’m lost, you always bring me home.”, and Hakoda responded “Thanks Bato, I’m happy your my friend too.”, Bato stayed awake all night in utter disbelief. He still teases Hakoda about it.)

1 year after leaving, Bato realised he might not be as much of a guy as he thought he was. He silently decided to put that train of thoughts on hold until the war was over. (In his heart he knew the war would never be over until the fire nation won. especially with sozin’s comet only a year away and- he doesnt remember what sozin’s comet is.)

When his arm got burned, he burned the soldier right back with his good arm out of sight of everyone else, and managed to shove them overboard before the pain hit him. He’s always had a high pain tolerance.  After the fight ended, Hakoda carried Bato to the abbey, and they had a tearful goodbye, where Bato quietly confessed his love as Hakoda walked out the room. Hakoda thought about it until he saw Bato again.

When they reunited, Hakoda confessed his love back to Bato, and they kissed right in the open, it took a lot of self control for the other tribesmen to not cheer, they had known for literally forever, the only person in the tribe who didnt know bato was in love with hakoda was hakoda.

Somehow, it took until the war was over for Sokka and Katara to find out they had a step-dad. They already considered Bato to be their second dad, so not much exactly changed.

The day of Zuko’s coronation, Bato got talking with Iroh, and when the topic came to children, Iroh explained how both his sons were dead, one dying at 9 from a storm, and the other dying at 20 from war. When Iroh says his youngest (eldest?) son’s name, Shui, Bato remembers the storm, and Iroh notices Bato’s rare cyan eyes.

They have a nice reunion, although Bato has to sit down for a while to process all this and figure out his family tree. He decides not to tell Hakoda yet, but he does spend a while walking through the palace with Iroh and remembering parts of his early childhood. He cant bring himself to go into the room of firelord portraits.

A month after zuko’s coronation, he sits Hakoda down and explains that he’s a bender, and he’s apparently fire nation royalty. Hakoda gets temporarily mad, but eventually calms down and hugs Bato when his friend told him that his firebending saved both himself and hakoda, and that he would never be like his forefathers or uncle. Hakoda takes a while to fully accept it, but eventually warms up (heh) to the concept, and continues to use Bato as a personal space heater.

Two months after zuko’s coronation, he finally decides to tackle the “i’m not as much as a guy as i thought” issue, and he decides to go to Iroh and Toph for advice over tea, where Iroh suggests some wise stuff, but Toph simply explains what non-binary is, and suggests Bato may be Demiboy. (Although Bato prefers to call himself Demiguy, he doesnt like being called a boy) The Gender Crisis continues for about another week, and takes another half a month for him to come out to Hakoda. Bato was somewhat internally afraid he wouldnt be counted as one of the men, but Hakoda was overwhelmingly supportive, and admitted that he knew Bato wasn’t exactly cis, he just never knew the words to use.

Bato spends a while at the palace after the coronation to get his bearings on being half fire nation and a prince, he learns purple is a very good color on him.(Hakoda later jokes that it was foreshadowing for Bato realising he was enby, as he wasnt blue or red)

He bonds quite a bit with Zuko, Iroh, and Toph during his stay, but eventually goes back to the southern water tribe, the place he truly considers home. Although, he does go and visit the fire nation every once in a while. He even goes to Ember Islands and has a vacation day with both of his families.

After about two years, He finally makes a betrothal necklace for Hakoda, with the symbol of the water tribe on it and flames coming up from the waves, both of them totally cry happy tears when he proposes privately under the light of the aurora.

#Bato #Bato of the water tribe #Water Tribe #SWT #Southern Water Tribe #Zuko #Iroh #Firelord Zuko #Toph #Enby Toph #trans bato #(?) #enby bato #gay bato #hcs #backstory #atla #avatar #avatar the last airbender #avatar: the last airbender #au #canon? whats canon #never heard of her #bakoda #kya #hakoda #sokka #katara #kanna #tw drowning

[elsanna-shenanigans]

April Contest Submission #25: Break Free

Words: ca. 6,600 Setting: canon AU Lemon: no CW: Imprisonment, Torture, Injuries (but no graphic detail), Abuse, Mentioned Kristanna, Mentioned Character Death, actual character death, violence (choking). Mentions of slavery

 xXx

“Anna… Anna…”

The redhead’s eyes slowly opened at the sound of a familiar voice, as she was brought out of another horrific nightmare.

“Are you awake?” A voice spoke.

Weakly, Anna nodded. “I take it, that’s you there, Elsa?”

“Yes, it’s me.”

Anna groaned, getting out of bed. For the past year, she had been a prisoner in the Southern Isles, kept as a trophy by King Hans. Everything had been taken from her, her friends, family, even her kingdom.

The cell was dark and filthy, with only one bed. The floor was stone, cold on Anna’s bare feet. The dungeons were on the lowest level of the castle, Anna’s cell having a window overlooking the ocean, the sound of the waves crashing against the rockface often keeping her up at night.

Lamenting her situation, Anna hoped she wouldn’t spend the rest of her life here. She was a Queen and a warrior, she didn’t deserve to die in a dungeon-like this. She should have died defending Arendelle with honour… but Hans had denied her that.

As Anna got up, she sighed, rubbing her eyes. She missed the days when she actually had a good nights sleep. As she climbed off her bed, she saw the door to her cell open, the familiar sight of a blonde-haired woman in uniform walking into the cell. It was indeed Elsa, Hans’s second in command, the woman who had led the attack on Arendelle… and if Anna was honest, her only real friend.

"Nightmare again?” Elsa wondered.

“The same one I’ve had for the last year,” Anna remarked.

Elsa sighed. “I’m so sorry.” Then she cleared her throat. “Prince Hans has requested your presence at breakfast, your majesty,” one of the guards said. “You are to come with me.” “He should give up,” Anna replied. “I’m not going to give in to his demands.” “Even so, you have to eat something,” Elsa insisted. Knowing Elsa was right, Anna got up. She needed to keep her strength up, what little of she still had. “Fine,” Anna agreed reluctantly. Walking out of the cell, she let Elsa lead her down the corridor, her weakened legs barely keeping her standing straight. She looked at the sorceress, confused about how she felt.

Elsa had been responsible for so much pain in her life, and yet, she had also visited her cell pretty much every single day. Anna didn’t know why, but perhaps she was just as lonely as she was. It was clear no one really talked to Elsa, aside from Hans.

But Anna still felt a sense of unease around her. She had watched her kill so many people in her dreams and yet, the real Elsa wasn’t as cold as she imagined.

The real Elsa actually had a kind heart to her, and it was clear that she did care about Anna. But Anna would never forget what Elsa had done, despite the fact they were friends.

She remembered the day Arendelle fell like it was yesterday, reliving the images of the invasion every night, seeing friends and loved ones slaughtered every time she closed her eyes. Every night in her dreams, the images would be warped and distorted, portraying Elsa as some kind of inhuman monster, who had brutally murdered her husband. But Anna had a feeling her dreams were just exaggerations, brought on by her trauma.

For much of her life, Anna hadn’t really been given much of a childhood. When she was a baby, enemy spies had kidnapped her older sister, forcing her parents to keep her locked in the castle for much of her young life.

As Anna grew up, her mother and father put her through all sorts of training to protect herself, to ensure what happened to her older sibling would never repeat itself. By the time Anna was eighteen, she had already served a couple of years in the kingdom’s royal guard. By age twenty-two, she had attained the rank of officer. But that was not the last title that she would be known by.

Her parents tragically died at sea a year later and as such, Anna assumed the throne as Queen. Most assumed it was just a really bad storm. Anna hadn’t taken the news well and it was only afterwards, she knew the truth about her lost sibling.

But even though she deeply mourned her parents, she carried on, later taking a husband. Kristoff was a kind man, he had a large heart and it was his love that made Anna feel so alive and helped her to love life again.

But just as tragically, this bliss was not to last. The Southern Isles, who had been expanding their territories, had wanted to Anna to surrender her kingdom to them. Despite knowing they had a secret weapon that had allegedly wiped out entire kingdoms, she wanted Arendelle to go down fighting.

So much for that, since her forces were completely wiped out, but she’d heard rumours that many of the civilians had managed to survive as refugees elsewhere.

“I take it you didn’t sleep well,” Elsa assumed, bringing Anna out of her thoughts.

“Is that sarcasm?” Anna responded. “I didn’t think you had a sense of humour.”

“I take no amusement from your treatment, Anna,” Elsa stated. “But… you did bring this on yourself. Hans gave you a guest room to stay in when you arrived, a rather luxurious abode I might add.”

“It was still a cell,” Anna replied. “I’m still a prisoner in this castle, regardless of how I’d be treated.”

“But it would have been preferable compared to what you’re going through down here,” Elsa expressed.

Soon, Elsa brought Anna to the royal dining hall, where Anna could see a great banquet of food laid out for her. She felt her stomach growl at the sight of it.

Hans himself was sat at the end of the table facing her, her father’s crown upon his head and a smug look on his face. Glancing at him enraged Anna, the sight of her oppressor reminding her of her suffering.

“Ah, your majesty,” Hans greeted her, as Elsa took a seat on the edge of the table next to him “You must be famished.”

Anna sat down, taking a bite of a slice of beef that had been placed on a plate for her. As much as she hated submitting to Hans this way, she was starving and Hans knew this. But she wasn’t going to let him take advantage of her.

Hans just smirked knowingly, as if he was mocking her. “Tell me, my dear, how have you been doing?”

Anna glared at him, just eating her food.

“I said… how have you been doing, Anna?” Hans asked again.

In response, Anna just muffled something while she was eating.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, it’s rather rude,” Hans snarked

Anna swallowed. “I have nothing to say to you.”

“Oh come now, Anna. You’ve been our guest for a year, I would think you were a tad more sociable by now.” Hans forked a piece of sausage into his mouth. “I hope you’ve once again reconsidered my decision.”

“I am not going to become your wife, Hans,” Anna said defiantly. “I’m not some property for you to own.”

“Come now, if you agree to marry me, you’ll be given riches beyond your wildest dreams and be adored by the people,” Hans offered. “Plus, you won’t need to suffer in those dreadful dungeons any longer.” Anna looked over at Elsa, seeing the blonde staring at her with concern. It was clear at this point that Elsa wanted Anna to fake her own surrender, as Elsa couldn’t bear to see Anna this way. But Anna wouldn’t do that. It would go against everything she stood for.

“I already had people who loved me… your soldiers took care of them,” Anna remarked. “And why would you care? I’m sure Elsa here would make a much better Queen than me.”

Hans chuckled. "I care about Elsa a great deal and I would not want the burden of Queen to be placed on her. Besides, she prefers women and I would not wish to make her… uncomfortable.” Anna noticed how saddened Elsa seemed to be from that subtle insult. Despite the abuse, she still followed Hans loyally without question. In a way… Anna felt sorry for her, that Elsa was as much of a prisoner as she was.

Putting down her cutlery, Anna glared at Hans.  "And what about me, Hans? If you care about me so much, why am I whipped, beaten and starved so much?”

“You refuse to behave,” Hans growled. “I’m honestly reconsidering why I even let Elsa take you in alive when I easily could have let you die with the rest of your pathetic kingdom.“

Enraged, Anna snarled, grabbing a knife and lunging at Hans. She knocked him to the ground, trying to jab the knife into his eye. But being starved so much meant that Anna’s strength was nowhere near how it used to be and as such, Hans got the advantage.

Anna tried to stab the knife, but Hans managed to dodge it, the knife merely grazing his cheek. He snarled, punching Anna in the face. Anna stumbled back to her feet, dazed, before Hans got up and slapped her, knocking her to the ground.

Elsa got up, watching as Anna writhed on the floor, groaning in pain.

"Even after all this time, you’re still a disobedient little harlot,” Hans murmured. “Elsa, take her down to the dungeons for punishment.”

"Yes, my lord,” Elsa responded, going to Anna’s side.

As Hans left the room, Anna glared at the man, cursing herself for not being strong enough. She was clearly not the great warrior she once was.

xXx

The punishment was a whipping, as usual. Anna was chained to the wall and whipped by one of Hans’s guards, yet another tactic used by him to try and break her mentally. To be honest, sometimes Anna wondered if Hans had succeeded and she hadn’t realised it, but some part of her would still keep fighting on.

Elsa was there every time, watching the punishment take place, watching Anna as was made to suffer in agony. But eventually, the pain was over, Anna shaking as she ached in chains.

It amazed Anna that she even had enough strength to try and tackle Hans in the dining hall, but she hated herself for not being able to finish the job. Still, she wouldn’t succumb to this agony, no matter how painful it was. Even with her dying breath, she’d deny Hans that satisfaction.

Knowing that Anna had been through enough, Elsa looked at the guard, nodding. “That’s enough, soldier. You can go now.”

The guard left them, Elsa going up to Anna and undoing the chains around her arms and legs. Anna collapsed to the floor, quivering as Elsa walked over to her.

“It’s over now,” Elsa spoke, handing Anna a waterskin.

Shivering, Anna gently held the pouch in her hand, gulping the water down. She gulped down the water as fast as she could, before panting, as sweat beaded down her body.

“You… You’re gonna get in trouble for helping me like this,” Anna said shakily, her throat dry.

Elsa looked away. “What Hans doesn’t know won’t hurt him. To be honest, I’ve been wondering why you’re even still here. It’s clear that no matter what, you’re not going to break.”

“I won’t break,” Anna insisted.

“That’s a rather arrogant way to look at things,” Elsa noted. “You’ve been pushed beyond your limits. I’m surprised you haven’t died yet.” She then bent down and helped the struggling Anna to her feet. “Let me help you. I’ll take you back to your cell.”

Anna merely nodded as Elsa helped her. She was surprised the sorceress was so kind to her at times, as if the person who had helped destroy Arendelle and the person helping her now were two completely different people.

“I admire your strength,” Elsa spoke. “Most people would have either gone mad or died from the torment you’ve been put through.”

“My parents raised a strong daughter,” Anna replied.

Eventually, the two of them arrived at Anna’s cell, Elsa unlocking the door.

“We’re here,” she said. “You should rest.”

Anna hobbled inside, eventually making it to the bed and collapsing upon it. Much of her body now was covered in scars from the torture Hans put her through constantly. As she laid on the bed, she saw that Elsa was still standing there.

“What are you doing?”

“I… I don’t know,” Elsa expressed. “I wish I could do more to help you.”

“You could have told Hans not to whip the piss out of me,” Anna remarked, trying to use humour to disguise her pain.

Elsa shook her head. “No, I can’t disobey Hans. If it wasn’t for him I…” The blonde stopped herself. “But maybe there is something I might be able to now to help you relieve that pain.”

Anna sat up, looking away. “Why do you care about me so much? I’m just a prisoner to you.”

“Perhaps… perhaps you’ve helped me to discover my humanity,” Elsa admitted. “You’re a rather… fascinating woman, Anna of Arendelle.”

“I’m surprised you have some,” Anna argued. “I still see you killing Kristoff in my dreams every night, leading the assault on Arendelle. In my dreams, you’re a cold, unfeeling monster.”

“And is that what I really am?”

“I… I don’t know,” Anna admitted. “You give me mixed messages. Some days I think you’re a friend and others, I’m reminded you’re a monster.”

Elsa walked into the room, sitting down on the bunk opposite Anna. “He attacked me from behind. I… I actually tried not to kill everyone. But Kristoff, he came at me with that spear and… ” She looked away. “I regret that.”

“What?” Anna wondered. “What are you talking about?”

“I wanted to win that battle with minimal casualties,” Elsa stated. “But everything went wrong. I regret what I did to you, and to your kingdom.” She looked into Anna’s eyes. “I even let most of the civilians go when I found them in the forests outside your kingdom. They didn’t deserve to die… no one did.”

"Is that… true?” Anna asked. “You’re not lying?”

“No, I haven’t lied to you,” Elsa expressed. “I’ve been good to you this past year to try and make up for the fact I destroyed your kingdom. I hoped… I hoped that perhaps if I befriended you, that life here would be better for you. It was obvious you and Hans wouldn’t get along but perhaps if you had me…”

Anna thought for a moment. She had a gut feeling that Elsa was indeed telling the truth.  Anna had misjudged Elsa slightly. Hans was clearly using her as merely a weapon, not truly caring about her as a person. After all, in war, soldiers often were forced to fight, not given a choice to leave.

And in Anna’s eyes… Elsa had shown she was a kind person. A complicated one, but her actions of mercy and care for her had shown her humanity. And yet, her visage still haunted her dreams.

“I… I think I can forgive you,” Anna accepted. “But… part of me will always be angry towards you for what you’ve done. But it’s clear that perhaps you’re on the path of change.”

“That means a lot to me,” Elsa admitted. “ I don’t blame you for still partly being angry over what I did to your husband. You don’t have to completely absolve me of this.”

“I am not,” Anna said honestly. “But perhaps I can move on. Even if the image of you slaughtering so many with your magic is etched into my mind… it’s clear that’s not you anymore.”

“Then… allow me to assure you that I have changed,” Elsa spoke after a moment, slowly taking off her gloves. “If you’ll let me?”

“What are you going to do?”

“Just lay on your stomach and I’ll do the rest,” Elsa said softly. “Do you trust me?”

For a moment, Anna almost said no, but Elsa had clearly opened her heart to her and been honest to her. She was genuine and wanted to help Anna and if Anna was to try and move on with all of this, trust between her and Elsa was important. She nodded, laying down on her back.

Elsa then reached over to Anna, pressing her hands on Anna’s back, her cold icy magic soothing Anna’s skin.

“Uhhh…. what are you…”

“Using a bit of my magic to relieve your pain,” Elsa said. “It’ll allow you to rest better.”

Sighing in content, Anna felt relaxed as Elsa applied pressure to her aching back and legs. It was almost enough to make her forget where she was, but no matter how much Anna wanted it, she was still a prisoner in this dungeon.

After massaging Anna for a while, Elsa looked over at her. “You okay now?”

“Mm, much better,” Anna purred. “Have I ever told you that you have hands like a surgeon?”

Elsa chuckled, to Anna’s surprise.

“You… you laughed!” she exclaimed.

Her friend stopped, a little embarrassed. “Sorry… I can’t remember the last time I found anything funny.”

Anna sat up and looked into Elsa’s eyes. The two of them were but inches apart and at that moment, as Anna was relaxed, she gazed at Elsa. Her gorgeous blue eyes almost glowed in the sunlight, and her platinum blonde, nearly white hair looked as soft as silk.

In all this time, had Anna really not considered how beautiful Elsa was? At that moment, a strange new sensation started to form inside Anna’s chest. Not anger, not a desire to never give up, but… something else, some sensation of her wanting Elsa, wanting the two of them to try and make something of all this.

And then… Anna leaned in and kissed Elsa. It was a brief moment, Anna succumbing to whatever this sensation was inside of her, before quickly pulling away. “I’m sorry!”

Elsa stroked her lips. “I… It’s okay.”

“No… I didn’t mean to do that,” Anna argued.

Nodding, Elsa stood up. “I… I should go,” she said to break the tension. “You should rest, conserve your strength and whatnot.” She smiled at Anna. “I… I wouldn’t mind taking you out of this cell tomorrow. You need some exercise.”

“Would… would you be allowed to do that?”

“As I said before, what Hans doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Elsa said reassuringly.

Anna nodded. “I’d like that… getting out and all.” She laid down and sighed. “And Elsa?”

“Yes?” Elsa wondered.

“Thank you,” Anna said genuinely.

Elsa smiled, closing the cell door. “Rest well, Anna.”

xXx

Fresh air, sunlight. It had felt like an eternity since Anna had been outside, in the presence of nature. Elsa had brought to a clearing just outside of the Southern Isles capital, where they wouldn’t be disturbed. The clearing was surrounded by beautiful trees full of lush green leaves, while in front of Anna, she could see a small lake with clear water reflecting the morning sun. It reminded Anna of where Kristoff had proposed to her.

Anna almost turned, instantly expecting to see the man of her dreams next to her…. only to be met with the sight of Elsa, having just dismounted the ice horse she’d created to take Anna to this place. She felt… unsure. It was confusing to Anna, who now realised she’d been attracted to Elsa for quite some time. Part of her hated Elsa and Part of her loved her. She wasn’t sure what to make of it all.

The sorceress walked up to her and smiled at her. “Enjoying the view?”

“I guess,” Anna answered as best as she could. “Why did you bring me here exactly?”

“This is where I go to practice my magic,” Elsa replied. “No one else knows about this place other than you and me. It’s the perfect little spot where no one will ever find you.”

“Huh,” Anna remarked. “You know, I’d have figured for an ice witch, you’d be hiding out in some giant frozen castle on the side of a mountain.”

“You really think that?”

“It was in a bedtime story my mother read to me as a kid,” Anna explained, before sitting down by the lakeside. “Thank you for bringing me here. I remember I had a place like this in Arendelle. It was in the gardens and Kristoff and I used to spend so many afternoons here.” “You miss him terribly,” Elsa said. “And It’s all because of me.” “You explained that last night,” Anna replied. “I do blame you still partly for what happened to him… And I doubt he’d have approved of me being like this with you. But then again… he’s gone and I should let go of the pain and move on.” “And what do you think?” “i… I think you know how I think,” Anna replied.

“If… If this is about that kiss, you don’t have to apologise,” Elsa expressed. “I’ve heard of the concept where one falls in love with their captor out of desperation.”

“No, if that were the case, I’d have fallen in love with Hans,” Anna corrected her. “But you aren’t my captor. You’re just as much of a prisoner as I am. Just I’m in a cell and you… you aren’t.” She took a deep breath and sighed. “And I think… I think I’ve fallen in love with you.”

“I… I think I feel the same way,” Elsa admitted. “But it can’t work. I can’t go against Hans, as much as I’d like to. I can’t give you freedom or your kingdom back.”

“Why can’t you?!” Anna demanded. “Elsa,  if this is how you really feel, why the flying fuck have you allowed yourself to be Hans’s lapdog all these years?!" 

"Because I’d have nothing else!” Elsa shouted back.

“I saw how Hans treated you at breakfast yesterday, with that bigoted remark,” Anna reminded her. “And you’re supposed to be his equal for crying out loud? Doesn’t sound very equal to me.”

“You don’t understand!”

“You could have broken away from Hans anytime you wanted,” Anna argued. “You could have stopped yourself from becoming what you are, you could have prevented so much death and destruction!… and yet you didn’t. Why?”

A few more tears of regret shed from Elsa. “Because I was a fool. Hans was the first person who ever showed me kindness, who saw some use for me.” She looked away at the water, looking at her reflection. “I was taken from my parents when I was three years old by Hans’s father. My powers hadn’t developed by then and I was just meant to be some political hostage, meant to weaken one of the Southern Isle’s enemies. Hans took pity on me as I got older… I helped him kill his father. He gave me a life, a purpose. His enemies were my enemies and I gladly cut them down for him. But… after that, he was colder to me, especially after he found out I preferred women.”

“So… he made a pass at you,” Anna realised. “That explains it, and part of your mistreatment is because Hans couldn’t have you fully. And yet, he still needed you.”

“It’s kinda stupid isn’t it?” Elsa remarked. “And I’ve been too damned insecure to do anything about it. If I kill Hans, I’d have nowhere to go. I’m fairly sure my birth family is dead. . I’m most likely wanted in the surviving kingdoms that I didn’t destroy… I have nothing. Even if I did spare many of the civilians, my reputation among the other kingdoms is tainted.”

“That’s not true,” Anna argued. “I… I’d welcome you to stay in Arendelle if I could.”

“Would you really do that?” Elsa wondered. “In spite of all of my crimes.”

“At least you’ve tried to atone for yours by being my friend and taking care of me,” Anna replied. “That’s more than his royal douchebag ever did for me.” She took Elsa’s hands. “So yes, if Arendelle were still standing… I’d gladly invite you to stay and… I love you.”

Elsa was stunned, as Anna then kissed her again, but then, she gave in, wrapping her arms around Anna as she kissed her, caressing the other woman gently. Anna gave in to the moment, relishing the kiss, letting go of all that pain and anger. Would Kristoff have approved? Well, he’d have been glad that she’d found love again, but with the woman who had killed him? Well, that was certainly complicated, but love wasn’t a matter that was easy. At the end of the day, he’d have been happy if she was happy.

But as Anna held Elsa in the kiss, something clicked in her brain, something about Elsa’s story that seemed… familiar.  A young princess kidnapped at three years old, stolen away and never to be seen again. Could Elsa be… no, it was impossible. Anna panicked, pulling away from the kiss.

“What’s wrong?” Elsa asked, concerned. “Anna, are you okay?”

Anna looked in the water at hers and Elsa’s faces, she could see that there was indeed a resemblance between them. A similar face shape, their eyes being a similar shade of blue, Anna’s teal and Elsa’s ice.

She didn’t want to believe it… but couldn’t deny the facts before her.

“You… you don’t have nothing, Elsa,” Anna spoke.

“What?” Elsa wondered. “What are you talking about?”

“I wasn’t my family’s firstborn,” Anna explained. “I had an older sister who was abducted when I was just a baby. My parents never told me about her and I never even knew she had existed until they died at sea a few years back. But, if she was still alive….”

Elsa’s eyes widened. "You… You don’t mean.”

“I mean look at us!” Anna shouted. “Our faces, don’t they look kinda similar!”

“But… That’s impossible!” Elsa shouted. “I would have known I’d have had a sibling! Oh god… I kissed my sister!” “Oh god, I fell in love with my sister!” Anna reacted. “No… it can’t be right,” Elsa argued. “Hans would have told me that I had a sibling.”

"Would he?” Anna wondered. “Did Hans even tell you what Kingdom you were taken from?”

“No..” Elsa realised. “He did not… and if your story is true and then…” She shook her head. “But why wouldn’t he have told me… unless he wanted to further…” After passing through disbelief and confusion, Elsa finally ended up in anger.

At that moment, Elsa’s hands curled into fists and an angry scowl formed on her face. To Anna’s shock, a whirlwind of ice and snow surrounded Elsa as she let out a massive scream of rage, firing ice blasts left and right. One of the blasts was powerful enough to freeze the whole lake.

“Elsa! Calm down!”

“No!!!” Elsa shouted. “I’ve had enough! I’ve been lied to my whole life and I’m tired of it! Hans forced me to destroy my own home, and I didn’t even realise it! He deserves to pay for what he’s done!”

Anna walked over to Elsa, feeling a little nervous. Seeing Elsa this way reminded her of the visions of the sorceress that she saw in her dreams.

“I’m… I’m okay,” Elsa panted.

“You sure?”

Elsa nodded. “Yes… Damn it all to hell. How could I have been so blind all these years? I knew Hans was a piece of work, but if this is true… then he and his whole retched family deserve to rot in hell.” She started to sob, Anna going to her side and holding her.

“I’m here,” Anna whispered. “I’ve got you, Elsa.”

Accepting it all, Elsa looked at Anna, breathing deeply. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.”

“And I’m sorry too,” Anna apologised as well. “I should have realised this sooner… I’ll just forget those kisses happened. I can’t believe you’re my sister… and I’m in love with you.”

“No Anna, don’t say that,” Elsa urged. “For all you know we might not be related after all… and even if we were, does it really matter? No one would know but us.”

“I… I don’t know,” Anna responded, unsure. “What… what are you going to do now?”

 "I’m going to look through the journals of Hans’s father. It likely confirms what you’ve been telling me. Then… I’m going to confront Hans about this myself.“

"Alone?”

“I won’t put you in danger,” Elsa insisted. “Sister or not, you’ve been through too much and I care about you.”

“But I was also raised as a warrior,” Anna replied. “If we’re going to do this… and we’re going to finally do what I think we’re going to do, I want to be there.”

Elsa nodded. “Okay… but I’ll take you back to your cell while I look through the journals.”

“Sounds good to me,” Anna replied.

xXx

It hadn’t taken Elsa long to find King Johann’s journal. Hans hadn’t exactly left his father’s old belongings hard to find in the castle attic. But actually reading the words to herself made Elsa sick to the stomach.

The entries in the journal confirmed what Anna had suspected, that Elsa was indeed the other Arendellian princess, abducted as a child. It had made Elsa angry that she had been denied such a life, a sister, two loving parents, the chance to be Queen herself…

But now, Elsa knew she had a chance to start over with Anna. She could bring Arendelle or the other kingdoms she destroyed back and try and do her damndest to make amends for all of her many many sins. And how was she going to do that? By finally killing the monster who had used her for all these years.

Storming through the halls of the castle to Anna’s cell, Elsa pondered what she was about to do. For one small moment, she was scared, scared that killing Hans would only make things worse for the Southern isles. But then she thought about the power she herself had, a power that if used right could do much more good than harm.

Eventually, Elsa made her way to Anna’s cell, opening the door and looking at Anna, who was lying on her bunk.

“Elsa?” Anna asked.

The sorceress walked over to Anna, reaching her hand out to her. “It’s time to get you out of here… my sister.”

“Wait, are we really?”

The blonde nodded. “Yes, you’re my sister, Anna.”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe it,” Anna expressed. She then jumped up and hugged Elsa tightly. Her long lost sister… finally they were reunited. For a moment, she thought about kissing her again, but knew it was best to push those thoughts to one side.

“So… are we going to do this?” Anna asked.

Elsa nodded. “Yes…. this is something I should have done the moment I let Hans get into my head.”

And so, the two sisters eventually made their way to the war room, where Hans and his generals were planning their next campaign of conquest. Elsa told Anna to wait outside, Anna hiding behind a nearby statue, while Elsa walked inside, firmly prepared for what she was about to do.

Hans and his generals were gathered around a table plotting their next conquest, Elsa seeing the usual smug look on Hans’s face. It enraged her now, more than it ever did, especially now that she knew the truth. But finally, this nightmare would be over, for both her and Anna.

“Hans?” Elsa asked.

“Elsa! Just the woman I wanted to see,” Hans responded. “My generals and I were going over the plans for our next campaign. I trust you will be of course leading the charge?”

Elsa then bowed in respect. “Of course. I live to serve you, my lord.” She knew she had to get Hans alone in order to do this. The fewer people around, the better. “I… I had something I wanted to speak to you about,” Elsa said.“Can we speak in private?”

“Of course!” Hans replied. “I was hoping to talk to you about some personal matters as well.” Hans looked at the generals. “Leave us, please. This hopefully won’t take long.”

As the generals and the guards that had been in the room left, Elsa stared at Hans, as the former went to pour himself a drink of whiskey from a nearby bottle. After taking a swig, he smirked at Elsa.

“I know you don’t hold your ale well, but would you care for a drink, Elsa?” Hans offered. “This is a rather good vintage.”

"No thank you,” Elsa responded.

“Hmmm pity,” Hans remarked. “I was having a drink in celebration.”

"Of what?” Elsa wondered. “Your next campaign?”

"Oh no, something a little closer to home,” Hans explained. “I’ve just arranged for the execution of your friend Queen Anna.”

Elsa’s eyes widened. "What?! Why?”

Hans shrugged. “I just wanted to clear up loose ends. After yesterday’s little incident, I realised she’s too much of a liability. It’s best to let the last remnant of Arendelle be finally snuffed out. Plus… She’s a rather bad influence on you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m not stupid, Elsa!” Hans shouted. “I know you have feelings for her and how you feel pity for her. She’s made you soft.”

Her heart beating in her chest, Elsa flared with anger. She had to act now, Hans was going to kill Anna, the only family she truly had left and she wouldn’t allow him to take her away from her.

"No.”

Hans put his glass down. “No what?”

“No, I can’t allow you to do that, Hans,” Elsa argued. “I’ve been your slave for too long. I know everything now. I know I was stolen from Arendelle as a child and that Anna is my sibling.” She strode towards Hans. “Why did you lie to me, Hans?! Why use me?!”

Hans sighed. “Oh well… I suppose you were going to find out eventually.” Hans walked over to a nearby window, looking out on his kingdom. “You were too useful to me, and I couldn’t resist losing you or the power you would gain me. And I had to teach your birth kingdom a lesson. They were trying to take you from me.”

“What… What are you talking about?”

"A few years ago, not long after you helped me stage my coup, do you remember when I had you sink that enemy ship?”

"What does that have to do with this?” Elsa wondered. Then she stopped and thought. She remembered how the king and Queen of Arendelle had apparently died at sea. Her parents. “Oh…”

Hans laughed. “That was your own parents, Elsa, rushing to your rescue and you never even realised it. I bet Anna would just love to know that little factoid. She’ll never consider you a sister once she knows that.”

“What?!” A voice exclaimed.

Elsa turned around, seeing Anna walk into the room, her mouth wide in shock. Sweat beaded from her brow, knowing that Hans had deliberately withheld that information from her, for just such a moment like this. “Anna… I didn’t know, I swear!”

“You… you killed them….”

“It was Hans!” Elsa argued. “He forced me to sink that ship. I didn’t know our parents were onboard it! And it doesn’t matter, this is him trying to mess with our heads!”

Anna sighed. “You’re right… I can be angry about that another time.” She glared at Hans. “You’re an insane bastard, Hans!”

“Oh shut up, the pair of you,” Hans argued. “There’s nowhere for either of you to go now. So just run along back to your cell, Anna.”

“No, she’s staying with me,” Elsa said defiantly.

“And you’re going to stay with me!” Hans insisted. “And you would have been nothing if I hadn’t taken pity on you.f I hadn’t, you’d still be locked in a cell as one of my father’s little trophies. I made you what you are Elsa.”

“You’re wrong!” Elsa shouted. “You can’t control me anymore!”

“And what are you going to do about it?” Hans asked. “If you kill me, you’ll have nowhere to-”

And right there and then, Anna punched Hans square in the face with all her strength. The king was started for a moment, giving Elsa the chance to grab her hands around Hans’s neck.

Hans choked and grunted. “Elsa… What…” But Elsa’s hand squeezed tighter and tighter, Hans’s face turning redder as he tried to breathe. However, he felt a sudden chill as ice spread from Elsa’s hand to all over his body. Elsa quickly let go, but Hans struggled as the rest of his body started to turn to ice.

“It’s the end for you, Hans,” Anna said coldly.

“And you were so wrong about me,” added Elsa in an equally icy tone. “I have a sister, someone I love. That’s more precious than something you’ll ever have. And as for you… you’re about to lose everything.”

Hans gurgled audibly, trying to form words to spit out, but he couldn’t. His throat had been the first thing frozen solid by Elsa. He settled for glaring venomously at Elsa, full of fury.

With a powerful kick, Anna knocked Hans towards the window, smashing him through it. As she watched, she saw Hans fully become an ice statue before he finally hit the courtyard below, nothing left of him but bloody particles. Finally, it was over. Hans was no more.

Just then, Elsa and Anna heard the sound of the guards enter the room, having heard the window break. They drew their sabres at them, but Elsa just gave them a freezing glare. The soldiers surrendered in moments, bowing in respect for Elsa, completely at her mercy.

“What is your command, Elsa?” one of them asked.

“Leave us for a moment,” Elsa answered. “I’ll address you when I’m ready.”

As the guards left the room, Elsa looked over at Anna, who was looking at the window.

“I can’t believe it… it’s finally over,” Anna admitted. “I’m free.”

“Are you still angry?” Elsa asked her.

“No… No, you didn’t know about our parents,” Anna replied. “And to be honest… I bet they’d have been happy that we took out Hans together.” She turned around. “What are you going to do now?”

“I’ll assume the throne of the southern isles,” Elsa stated. “Put the kingdom’s resources towards repairing the damage I’ve done. I’ll make sure Arendelle is restored to its former glory… hopefully some of the people I let go are still out there.” She held Anna close. “Finally… it’s over.”

“Good riddance to Hans,” Anna admitted.

“Did you have to kick him through the window?” Elsa asked. “I mean, I was gonna shatter him to pieces anyway.”

“A warrior has a flair for the dramatic,” Anna replied.

Elsa knew this probably wasn’t the best time to ask about this, but she and Anna both knew that despite the revelation of them being sisters, they couldn’t simply ignore their romantic feelings. “Anna… about us being sisters…

"I made my decision already,” Anna interrupted her. “I want to be with you, Elsa. This whole sisters thing… as long as we keep it our little secret things will be fine.”

“You’re sure about this?” Elsa wondered.

“Well, how else am I going to make you my queen and not raise eyebrows?” Anna remarked.

“Wait… what?”

But Anna had then grabbed Elsa, dipping her down for a passionate kiss, celebrating the fact that freedom was theirs at last.

#elsanna #submission #April 2021 contest #prompt: break #cw: torture

[b-else-writes]

the tiger shark and the sun

New chapter posted for my Star Wars/Avatar the Last Airbender-RebelCaptain fusion AU! It’s Southern Raiders time! Feat: forgiveness, compassion, murder, and tender hugs

Read on AO3 | Read from start

Pairings: Jyn/Cassian, minor Han/Leia and Baze/Chirrut, random minor background pairings

Rating: T

Summary: Star Wars/Avatar the Last Airbender fusion AU. The Fire Nation, under  Fire Lord Palpatine and Lord Vader, has been at War with the world for  the last twenty years. When Jyn Erso lands on his doorstep the day  Cassian, last southern waterbender, is assigned to protect the Avatar,  she seems just another obstacle in ending the War. An obstacle he would  willingly remove. For exiled firebender Jyn, the Avatar is her last way  home - and to her hostaged father, never mind her own conscience. But as  their paths keep crossing, and the Avatar needs all help in saving the  world, Jyn and Cassian find they are more alike than they ever thought  possible.

Snippet under the cut!

Jyn rubbed her eyes, sitting up from the sleeping mat on the floor. At Cassian’s suggestion, the group had collectively decided to sleep in the central atrium out of worry that they’d been followed. Jyn glanced over at him, curled up beside his nasty lizard. He had seemed…disappointed in her for joining up with Han.

I’m not trying to get us caught, Jyn had wanted to insist. But it felt stupid, like a child caught out. What she and Han had done was selfish. If she could just explain that she’d understood Han’s guilt, that she wanted to protect him, that… She sighed, covering her face with her hands. Why was it so difficult for her and Cassian to have a proper conversation?

 Because you almost kissed him and then stabbed him in the back, stupid.

Jyn scowled, getting to her feet. Stretching out her arms and feeling a nice crack of her back, she ambled towards the edge of the atrium platform. She looked out. The clouds were shifting. Swirling as though something were rising up. There was rumbling in the distance.

“Wake up!” she yelled, as an explosive hit the wall behind them. Jyn ducked. Chirrut scrabbled, throwing up a rock shield over them. Stone clattered down around the panicking, half-awake group.

Three airships rose out of the mist, firing down on the Western Air City. Seizing her staff, Enfys airbent a great gust. Several metal doors slammed shut, sealing the atrium closed. They could hear loud booms outside. The entire building shook. Cracks darted across the ceiling. “Start earthbending a tunnel down to the river!” Cassian said, harrying a bleary-eyed Luke, Leia, and Chirrut.

The building shook again. One of the exterior pillars shattered. Sunlight rapidly poured in. Jyn’s eyes tracked a large piece of cracking ceiling, and its trajectory…

“Watch out!” she yelled, slamming into Cassian’s mid-section. They hit the ground, Cassian grunting. A split-second later, rocks crashed down where he’d stood. Jyn gasped, looking around wildly. She felt his larger frame beneath hers.

Cassian cleared his throat. In a strangled voice, he said, “Jyn, you can get off me now.”

“Right. Right.”

Awkwardly, she slid off. Cassian wasn’t looking at her. Jyn scrambled to her feet. Chirrut and the twins had earthbent a tunnel. Grabbing their packs, the group ran towards it. Jyn paused, glancing back towards the sealed metal doors. One of them crunched inwards.

“Go to the Falcon!” Jyn yelled, turning back around, “I’m going to hold them off.”

“Jyn, no!”

She ran. A bomb struck the atrium, smashing through the metal and rock. Jyn bent a shield of fire, bursting out into blinding sunlight. The atrium pillars were beginning to collapse. A fourth airship rose out of the clouds. Standing on it was a black clad figure.

“Erso,” Vader boomed, “I should have killed you.”

Jyn snarled. As the pillars collapsed, falling across the chasm, she ran. As the pillar’s head approached, Jyn took a running leap. She sailed through the air. Fire burst from her hands. She punched two fire fists off. Vader shot a burst of fire straight at her. Jyn twisted in mid-air, slicing through with her heel. She landed on the stretched-skin of the airship in a roll.

Vader was power itself. She could feel his surprise that she was keeping up – nowhere close to beating. But she’d survive him. He blasted through her offense. She sent two punches of rainbow flame straight at him. He knocked them aside with one lazy swipe. Jyn dropped to her feet, sweeping out a wave of fire. Vader leapt over it. Closer, closer…

As she blocked his waves of flame, her right fist came up. Vader did the same. Their blasts met in one massive wave of fire.

The explosion rocked Hynestia.

The shockwave threw her backwards. Vader was pushed the other way, catching herself. Jyn scrabbled for handholds. She skidded over the airship skin. Then she was plunging through space. She couldn’t stop the scream as she fell down towards the river below. The water was rising up to greet her – Mama, Papa – Cassian, I’m sorry –

Something caught her.

She gasped, wind knocked straight out of her. Something warm and remarkably sturdy… Jyn looked up. Cassian was holding her. He had bent a huge waterspout to meet her half-way. Cassian had saved her life, just as he had done in Jedha.

His eyes were focused on the water as he bent them down towards the Falcon. Jyn tried not to squirm in his arms in embarrassment. Did he know how she felt? Surely not. When he dropped them onto the Falcon’s deck, she moved away as quickly as possible. Cassian blinked, then stepped awkwardly back as well. She had brought Vader here. The Falcon peeled away, following the river’s ribbon out to sea, leaving the burning Air City behind.

“Wait, where are Luke and Leia?” she said, glancing around wildly. Cassian pointed upwards, face blank. Jyn looked up at him, aghast.

keep reading

#rebelcaptain #rogue one #jyn x cassian #star wars #jyn erso #cassian andor #atla #zutara #my fic #au: atla

[terramythos]

TerraMythos 2021 Reading Challenge - Book 2 of 26

Title: Authority (The Southern Reach #2) (2014) - REREAD

Author: Jeff VanderMeer

Genre/Tags: Horror, Science Fiction, Ecological Horror, Cosmic Horror, Mystery, Weird, Third-Person, Unreliable Narrator

Rating: 8/10

Date Began: 1/05/2021

Date Finished: 1/10/2021

John "Control" Rodriguez, a disgraced former spy, is given an opportunity to redeem himself at the Southern Reach, the clandestine organization that oversees the mysterious and horrifying Area X. The director has gone missing following the disastrous "twelfth" expedition in Annihilation. Control is brought in to take over her job and fix the Southern Reach... and perhaps find a way to combat the insidious, paranormal effects of Area X.

But Control soon discovers just how deep Area X's corruption infects the place. Even worse, failures of the past-- both his own and those of the Southern Reach-- return to haunt him in disturbing ways. Badly outmatched within and without, Control will need to do everything he can to save not only the organization, but himself.

The last fragment of video remained in its own category: "Unassigned." Everyone was dead by then, except for an injured Lowry, already halfway back to the border.

Yet for a good twenty seconds the camera flew above the glimmering marsh reeds, the deep blue lakes, the ragged white cusp of the sea, toward the lighthouse.

Dipped and rose, fell again and soared again.

With what seemed like a horrifying enthusiasm.

An all-consuming joy.  

Full review, some spoilers, and content warning(s) under the cut.

Content warnings for the book: some body horror but way toned down compared to Annihilation. Mind control/hypnotic suggestion is still a thing. Non graphic sexual content. Disturbing images. Without spoiling the entire book, there are several scenes that come off as gaslighting, but do have an alternate explanation. As before, a pervasive sense of unreality.  

While Annihilation is a deep dive into the horrors of Area X, Authority takes a step back. It examines the situation from the perspective of the Southern Reach, the organization that oversees the expeditions we got to know so intimately in the last book. Control is a newcomer, so he functions as a natural outsider perspective. However, he's far from naïve due to his past experience in what I have to assume is the CIA (just called "Central" in the book). It's clear from the get-go that the Southern Reach is falling apart with its ancient buildings, circular and helpless theories, dwindling funding, and bizarre office politics. While Annihilation frames the Southern Reach as shady and possibly complicit in Area X's existence, Authority demonstrates the government would be predictably bad at handling an unknowable cosmic horror zone over any length of time.

Though I noted in my Annihilation review that most of the mystery surrounding Area X remains just that, Authority casually drops two major revelations in the first few chapters. First is... it's definitely aliens, right? Like, that's the only explanation that tracks-- why everything about the place is anathema to humanity, why it's impossible for characters to fully understand it, why mimicry is such a major aspect, etc. If you didn't suspect this already, it explains a lot. In particular, the "colonization" terminology and imagery in Annihilation hits different in that context. I have a lot of feelings about how this series approaches the extraterrestrial, but I'll save that for my Acceptance review.

The second reveal is that Control is taking over for the former director of the Southern Reach, who is MIA following Annihilation's "twelfth" expedition. Who is the director? The psychologist-- the pseudo antagonist of the last book, who we know got Super Killed Off. Turns out she's important and probably not actually evil? The biologist is also inexplicably back, but something is off about her, and she insists on being called Ghost Bird now. Did the biologist truly return (counter to the ending of the last book) or is this one of the shells Area X sometimes spits back out into the real world? If she's the latter, Ghost Bird seems to have much more personality and self awareness than the others. It is interesting to consider an entity of Area X would willingly name herself.

So, Authority is a weird book. The horror element is still present, but toned down. Instead, there's a lot of focus on the new character Control, his past, and the workings of the Southern Reach. In some ways this is refreshing. Annihilation (and the finale Acceptance) are so deeply entwined with Area X it's hard to see what "normal" looks like, and Authority brings that perspective. Relatively speaking. Second, and this is a spoiler, much of that normalcy is a facade. Control is basically mind controlled (heh) by a faction in Central, and is unaware of it for most of the book. It comes across in little ways, like the anachronistic storytelling and Control's confusion/disorientation at times.

We also learn that Area X doesn't just contaminate things inside it, but things outside it as well... and it's been doing this for some time. As a result, there's always a sense of Area X lurking in the periphery, manifesting in strange and unexpected ways. Something I like is the background chatter Control overhears being lines from Annihilation, which he isn't aware of, but the reader sure is.

I've read this book a few times, and while there are things I really like about it, it's probably my least favorite of the trilogy. I think the slower pacing and different narrative approach have merits, but just aren't as interesting to me as the rest of the series. It's noteworthy that my favorite bits in Authority are the disturbing video of the first expedition and the sudden End of Evangelion-esque return of Area X near the end-- not the espionage and philosophical tangents that comprise most of the book.  There are several ideas that seem interesting but don't go anywhere, and those feel like a waste of space. I think Authority could be pared down to half its page count and still get across the same feelings and general concept.

Control is also not the most interesting protagonist, especially compared to previous and later characters. He's not terrible, but he spends most of his time just thinking in circles and observing mundane office politics. While this is fine at first it starts to drag as the story goes on. As I said, a lot of tangents go nowhere, and there's not much going on beyond those until well over halfway into the book. Control does have a hidden tragic backstory, and it's interesting enough, but it barely factors into the overarching Area X storyline outside some symbolic comparisons. He feels out of place, perhaps intentionally.

I do like the dry humor and observations Control brings and how they contrast with the intense tone of Annihilation. I can also see the appeal of having a more ordinary character, if only to bring context to the extraordinary. But the problem is Control isn't ordinary. He's the youngest member of a dynasty of professional spies! Yet somehow I just don't find him exciting compared to an antisocial biologist. I dunno. Ultimately Control is a pawn in the story, used and manipulated by other people, and (spoilers) this doesn't change in Acceptance.

I had similar dilemmas with VanderMeer's Ambergris books, particularly book two, so perhaps it's a fact about his writing. When it's good it's GOOD, but sometimes the things I like get lost in rambling narrative fluff. The question is whether getting through the less interesting parts is worth it for the really good parts. With The Southern Reach trilogy, I'd argue the latter. I have no issues with the style or pacing in Annihilation or Acceptance, and the overarching story is fascinating.

I've mentioned many times before that I usually struggle with book twos in trilogies, and this one isn't an exception. However, I do appreciate what Authority is going for on a meta and lore level when viewing the series as a whole. It does establish a lot of things that either explain earlier stuff or pay off later; it just takes a while to get to them. The context of everything else bumps this to an 8.   

#taylor reads #8/10 #2021 reading challenge #google why was this image so crisp yet i couldn't find anything good for annihilation. biphobia at its finest #i like how this review turned out :>

[kentuckywrites]

Imperium 2: Chapter 2

Bruma venit. (Winter is coming.)

At Nessa’s insistence, Elma led her into the barracks and sat her down on the couch as she dug around various locations for first aid supplies. Lin made herself useful in a different way: she figured Nessa would want some food, even though mimeosomes didn’t technically need to eat, and started preparing something warm. She wouldn’t explain what she was making, preferring to keep it a surprise. Elma quickly learned as she was bandaging up Nessa that Lin was making soup, something that smelled warm and cozy.

Elma worked on the deeper wounds first, particularly one on Nessa’s right shoulder. She winced whenever Elma made contact, but didn’t tell her to stop at any point. As she worked, Lin spoke over her preparations.

“So you’re Pongo’s sister...how come he never told us about you?”

Nessa chuckled, though she hissed through her teeth when Elma started wrapping the first bandage around her shoulder. “Because I didn’t exist until a short while ago. It’s so easy to lose track of time when you’re walking on foot all the way from Noctilum, so I want to say...maybe a few weeks?”

“Holy shit,” Lin breathed. Elma shot her a look when she cursed, and Lin flushed up and turned back to making her soup.

“Yeah. Believe me, I tried to flag some Skells down,” Nessa said, “But either they didn’t see me, or they flat out ignored me. If it was the latter, then that’s quite rude.”

“Either way, it sounds like you’ve been through quite a bit,” Elma finished wrapping up her shoulder and went on to cleaning the next biggest wound, a pair of scratches on her stomach. Not nearly as deep as the one on her shoulders, and if she had to harbor a guess, inflicted by some type of insidia. Once Nessa noticed where Elma was planning to work next, she rolled up her shirt for easier access. Elma paused for a moment.

“See something you like?” Nessa winked.

“W-What? No, I was just thinking...you’re a lot different than Pongo,” Elma confessed, a slight hint of blush starting to form on her cheeks and nose, “He wouldn’t have let me do this.”

“We’re both stubborn in our own ways. Hell, I wouldn’t have let you do this if you weren’t drop dead gorgeous,” Nessa grinned.

“Now that’s most certainly something Pongo wouldn’t have said,” Elma chuckled, partially from embarrassment and partially from the absurdity of the situation. She cleared her head by going back to cleaning the wound with a fresh cloth, dampened with water. “So what exactly did you mean when you only existed for a couple weeks?”

“Exactly that,” Nessa explained, “Now, you both know about Mira, right? I’m pretty sure Pongo told you at one point.”

“When Pharsis was about to break out and kill us all, and the only way to stop it was for Pongo to fall into Mount M’Gando? Yep,” Lin said bitterly. It didn’t go past Nessa and Elma undetected, but while Elma sighed, Nessa rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, that was fun. Here’s the thing. Mira created Pongo to be its avatar, right? Well, it created me for the same purpose...except, it’s also because Pongo is in some kind of trouble.”

“What kind?” Lin walked over, carrying a bowl of soup in her hands. She set it down carefully on the table next to Elma’s medical supplies before taking the couch adjacent to Nessa. “Like, the life-or-death kind from before? Or something different?”

“I...we...don’t exactly know,” Nessa admitted, “That’s kinda why Mira created me. Because whatever happened to Pongo, it kicked Mira out of his body, and Mira has no idea what happened after that. So it created me in an attempt to find him and figure out if he’s okay.”

“Mira was ejected from Pongo’s body?” Elma scowled, enveloped in her own deep thoughts, “How would that work? Do you think miranium has something to do with this disconnect, since Mira couldn’t access Pongo’s body beforehand due to a miranium shortage?”

“Normally, I’d agree with that,” She said, “But Mira does remember one thing before it lost its connection to Pongo. There were...they’re called Ganglion, right? There were a lot of them.”

“Ganglion? God,” Lin slumped in her seat, “I thought we’d be done with them after the Lifehold battle.”

“Unfortunately, many Ganglion still have strongholds positioned throughout the continents,” Elma clarified, “Our fight with them is far from over. Now, these Ganglion who found Pongo...where exactly were they? Do you - or Mira - remember?”

“Mira remembers a little,” Nessa said, “The Ganglion Pongo encountered were in Noctilum. But Mira also remembers...okay, hang on, actually, it’s thinking about it…”

Nessa trailed off, her eyes flashing white for the briefest of seconds. Elma recalled how Pongo’s eyes went white when Mira assumed control of him, back at Mount M’Gando, and could only assume that this was Mira appearing for a moment. Nessa’s eyes remained indigo, however, and recognition soon dawned upon them.

“Mira remembers a small part of where Pongo might be, right now. The Ganglion took him to Cocytios.”

Lin and Elma exchanged a look.

“Cocytios?” Lin asked first, slowly, making sure she pronounced it the same way Nessa did. “What…”

“Oh! Ah, right, I don’t think BLADE has discovered it yet,” Nessa said sheepishly, “It’s a sixth continent that’s located underneath Primordia, to the southwest. It’s only one of many places you guys haven’t found yet, though, but that’s an explanation for another day.”

“We haven’t exactly expanded our search to below Primordia’s southern borders yet, so that explains why it hasn’t shown up before now,” Elma said, “Though, why there? What do you know about the continent?”

“Cocytios is cold,” Nessa put her shirt down, realizing that Elma had finished patching her stomach wound a while ago, and that she had begun working on a section on her thigh. “Like, freezing. It’s pretty mountainous, has lots of snow, and a couple of those ancient weapons like the rings in Oblivia. Has a giant cavernous pit like Oblivia, too.”

“Ooh, it’s like Antarctica!” Lin smiled. Nessa’s visible confusion prompted her to expand slightly, “That was a continent back on Earth. It’s at the very bottom of the planet and it’s super cold there.”

“And it might be just as dangerous,” Elma cautioned, “We’ve never encountered an environment like that before, nor do we have much of an understanding as to what lives on the continent. We got lucky with the other continents being hospitable, for the most part.”

“You call Cauldros hospitable?”

“I said ‘for the most part’. Remember, Cauldros is also the continent with the most active Ganglion presence, and they’re seemingly responsible for the number of architectural developments there. Disregarding our relations with the Ganglion, those fortresses have the most protection against indigens and Cauldros’s weather phenomena. Of course, the Ganglion would never let us walk in there of our own volition…”

“But that didn’t stop us in the past!” Lin giggled, “Even if sneaking around didn’t work, those Prone were never gonna win against Team Elma!”

“Ooh, what confidence!” Nessa said, “Well, if you’re sure your mims can handle the environment, then that’s good to hear. I think I’d be more scared for those giant robot things you guys pilot sometimes.”

“Skells?!” Lin got stars in her eyes, but they just as quickly diminished when she realized what Nessa was trying to say, “Oh man, I don’t actually know if most of the Skell frames available through BLADE would be able to handle that sort of environment...most of the ones that were able to operate in space were dismantled or destroyed during our descent onto Mira, and we haven’t had any reason before now to upgrade any of the existing models aside from heat and humidity resistance so they can function in Noctilum, Oblivia and Cauldros…”

“And this mission is time-sensitive, if we’re to believe Pongo’s in serious trouble,” Elma added on, “So the chances of developing and installing those modifications onto our Skells for this is...well, I doubt we’d have the necessary amount of time required to make those modifications effective.”

“It took us a couple weeks to make the humidity modifier for Noctilum’s weather,” Lin sighed, “And even longer to create a modifier to help with the heat waves in Oblivia and Cauldros. It’d take a while to create a modifier to help against frost, weeks at best, even if we didn’t take any Skells out there for a test run. It’d go untested if we wanted to keep things quick, and ah...I don’t really recommend that.”

“BLADE has boats, right?” Nessa asked, “Please tell me this entire time you haven’t just been relying on Skells to get things done.”

“We’ve got boats,” Lin chuckled, “Sometimes with research teams there’s equipment that we just can’t trust in the hands of Skells, so we use rovers and boats to transport them, especially if they’re going to Sylvalum or Cauldros.”

“Great! Then we’ll need a boat, and some warm clothes for you both,” Nessa sat herself up straighter, placing her hands on her lap. Elma had long since finished addressing her wounds, and feeling as though she’d done a good job of patching the major injuries, was beginning to put the first aid supplies away. “I know mims can usually handle a ton of heat, thanks to your adventures in Cauldros, but...what about Elma?”

Nessa glanced towards Elma before taking the bowl of soup in her hands, fiddling with the spoon dipped into it. “I mean, at the risk of me sounding picky, you’re downright stunning in your true form. But...well, would it be a better idea to be in your old mim for this?”

Elma took a moment to think as she moved to pick up the medical supplies. Once they were off the table, Lin nudged the bowl of soup closer to Nessa, who nodded as a silent thank-you. Elma placed the medical supplies on the counter in the kitchen, not wanting to move far from the conversation. In the back of her mind she wondered where Tatsu was - he was usually here in the barracks, hovering next to Lin like an affectionately curious cat. But he was nowhere in sight. Elma resolved to ask Lin about it later. He’d probably want to come along, even if he didn’t offer much to the team besides being the constant victim of food jokes. But that wasn’t what she needed to think about, at least, not in the current moment.

“Recovering my mimeosome might be the better option,” Elma pondered openly, “And I don’t think that’s picky, Nessa. I quite prefer my original body to my mimeosome, though I can concede that the nature of the mimeosome would be better able to withstand the climate. Not that armor isn’t important, but I wouldn’t need to worry about extra layers in my mimeosome versus my true form.”

“I guess it would be a shame to see you covering up all that skin…” She sighed, and Elma’s blush returned tenfold. Perhaps it was a better that Tatsu wasn’t here, although unfortunate that Lin was. The poor girl was shaking her head. Was it disappointment? Second hand embarrassment?

“Are you implying that, despite agreeing to go in my mimeosome, which is more suitable than my current body, I should wear less clothing to a continent you’ve described as freezing cold?” Elma raised an eyebrow. Her tone was teasing, but not annoyed. How could she be annoyed when she considered this flattery?

And yet, Nessa started to blush, too, and she looked away quickly, suddenly interested in one of the bandages that Elma had applied to her shoulder. “Whatever makes you comfortable, of course! I’m not saying you should wear anything specific, just that you’d look nice in something similar to what you’re wearing now - or ah, well, you’d look great in anything, to be fair!”

“I never imagined, in all my life, that I’d meet someone with a bigger crush on Elma than Irina,” Lin chuckled, “But here we are!”

“Compliments aside, I’ll speak with the MMC about recovering my mimeosome from storage,” Elma told them both, “In the meantime, Nessa, I patched up the majority of the wounds on your body, and with a little rest and extra care, you should be good to go by tomorrow. I can lend you some of my weapons for the journey ahead, if you like, or Lin might be able to grant you weapons better suited to your fighting style.”

“When I hit, I hit hard, no matter the weapons,” Nessa smirked, “I’ll take some of your old weapons just for convenience’s sake. Plus, if they’re in the barracks already, I can take ‘em for a test spin!”

“Try not to overdo it, if you can. For now…”

Elma turned to Lin, who looked happy and bright. This would be a new adventure, a new location. Unexplored territory and possibly unidentified indigens. Despite the mission they’d agreed to take, Elma couldn’t deny that she was quite intrigued regarding Cocytios. Judging by Lin’s expression, she was excited, too.

“Lin, do you know where Tatsu is?” Elma finally asked.

“Oh, he’s hanging out with some friends he made the other day. Said he wouldn’t be back until dinnertime.”

“Something tells me he’ll want to join us.”

A sparkle brightened in Lin’s eyes, and her fingertips bounced against each other as a mischievous smirk crossed her lips.

“I sure hope he does! If he didn’t, we wouldn’t have anything to eat!”

#xenoblade x #Imperium 2: Chapter 2 #this is basically a setup chapter #and it's a little messy imo but serves its purpose #ABOUT TIME I DEVELOPED COCYTIOS MORE LMAO #anyways Nessa is gay and so is Elma

[edgeofmyniall]

six: no judgement

storypage | playlist | taglist | thoughts

“When you're with me, no judgement. We can get that from everyone else, and we don't have to prove nothing. When you're with me, no judgement”

There were only a few times in Ginger’s life that she felt like the spotlight was on her, and the one that comes to mind at this moment was the first article she read about her and Niall. They were coming home from a music festival outside of Los Angeles, and they stopped at Langer’s to grab a bite to eat. The group was hot and sticky with sweat and the paparazzi happened to snap a picture of Ginger hugging Niall after they had left the eatery. She was hungover and if she was honest, still high off the subtle touches that Niall had lingered at the dip of her back and where she had slept in the same bed as Niall when Stella woke up early to go out for a jog. Ginger insisted on sleeping on the couch since she was the only single person there, but Stella all but forced her to sleep in the bed. Niall woke up sleepily and smiled as he heard Ginger’s soft moans from her getting decent sleep and the way her red curls sprawled across the pillow. In the middle of nowhere, he was home.

Mystery fox pictured cozying up with Niall Horan. Friend or more? The article title had always been in the back of Ginger’s head, but the rumors were debunked when Niall was seen snogging Stella at a Fleetwood Mac concert a week later. She was old news as per usual. 

But here in her room where Stella looks at her accusingly was the most intense spotlight moment.

“You…” Stella tries to blink the betrayal away, but it’s still there in Ginger’s phone- the hard evidence staring her in her face. “were a part of this?” Her question already had an answer, Stella knew that, but her own cousin? “How could you?” Ginger looks at her cousin like a deer caught in headlights. 

“I...tried…” Ginger tried coming up with an excuse, an explanation, anything to make this right. “I told him no,” Ginger’s heart sinks knowing the heavyweight of the lie she executed would carry. “We’re just friends, I swear.” Stella’s brow furrows more and she begins to nervously scratch her scalp right above her ear.

“Yeah, okay. Sure. And friends send pictures of themselves in their underwear? Whadda load of bullshit,” Stella’s southern accent fills the room- the one thing from home she hides until she’s angry. “Get out.”

“Stell…” Ginger takes a step towards her cousin, but in disgust, Stella leans away from her best friend. “I-”

“Get the fuck out of my house.” Stella has a tight grip on Ginger’s phone, and Ginger feels her world crashing around her. The downward spiral she was on came to crashing halt and she was wreaking havoc everywhere she went. Ginger, with tear-filled eyes, turns around and walks down the stairs letting her guilt and regret consume her. Her tears sting her face and she knows it’s her punishment for doing something so stupid, so careless- so selfish. Grabbing her keys, she quietly closes the door and it’s when she climbs in her car, she lets out the sob she was holding in. Her nose became stopped up and her head was hurting as she let the entirety of her sorrow come down her pale skin. She couldn’t stay here knowing that Stella didn’t want to be anywhere near her. She didn’t put up a fight because why fight something you know you’re guilty of. 

The car ride was silent as she sniffled away her tears. She turned into the gated community and nods at the security guard as he scans her code that’s pasted on the side of her driver’s back window. “Tough night?” Ginger’s huffs at the man’s question before she speeds through the small subdivision. The house she was racing to sat in the back and she was there only a few days ago. The white iron gate was closed and as far as she could tell, the house was abandoned- the lights were out and it’s eerily dark for his house to be. She pressed her birthday into the keypad and the gate began to roll away. It was when she was parking in the driveway that the kitchen light came on; she knew he had seen her car through the security cameras. The side door opened and Niall stood in the doorway confused as to why Ginger was there.

“She kicked me out,” Ginger half yelled as she made her way up the walkway. She stopped on the bottom step before looking up at him. All of the courage she had built up on the ride over here vanished when he looked at her. 

“I know,” he said cold and as-a-matter-of-factly. “She cussed me out because of it. Wanted me to know I could burn in hell,” Ginger held her breath and she felt herself wanting to cry again. She had hurt him, she knows that, but for Niall to turn her away too, Ginger would be devastated. Ginger feels the ping of guilt run its course through her body and she lowers her head against the counter. She wanted to be as far away from Niall and Stella so what in the fresh hell was she doing here? “So…”

“Listen,” Ginger sighs before picking her head up, “I know I’m the last person you want to see. I couldn’t even give you an answer, but I’ve got nowhere else to go. I’ll sleep on the couch if I have to,” Ginger sniffles and wipes the remaining mascara off her face. There was a moment of intense silence before Niall nodded his head back and moved out of the doorway, “C’mon. Getin here.”

When Ginger stands in the kitchen, leaning on the granite kitchen island, Niall brought her a bottle of vodka and pushed it towards her. “You’re not drinkin’?” Ginger hiccups from the sob fest she gave herself and then pushed the circular tip to her lips and let the stinging liquid burn the back of her throat. The hot alcohol settled in her stomach and she began to warm up. 

“Nah, did enough of that already.” His hands were firmly on the counter as he watched Ginger press the back of her hand to her closed mouth and shake the bad taste out of her mouth. His eyes were rimmed with red and his hair was tousled out of frustration- he looked as if the few minutes he was alone, he had been drinking or crying. Maybe both. Ginger noticed a half-empty glass of iced bourbon and the brown liquor bottle sitting on the counter opened. “Why didn’t ya call?” 

“She…” Ginger lifted the bottle again only to put it down. She needed a clear head. “Stella still has my phone. She’s probably smashed it and burned it by now.” Niall nods his head. “Oh God, what if she runs a story about you to the press? Jesus, Niall, I didn’t...fuck. I’ve ruined your entire career.” 

Niall cups the back of his neck and rubs his tanned skin and laughs slightly. “She won’t. Or she’ll be out of a job. She isn’t that big of a bitch.” Niall looks at Ginger sheepishly and begins to tap his thumbs against the counter mindlessly.  A low hum follows and Ginger follows the rhythmic voice into another dissociative state. She’s concentrating on the condensation water drop that’s forming on the rim of Niall’ glass finally allowing all the questions she should have asked herself in the beginning to jumble through her mind. What had she done? How could she fix it? Why Niall? And why in the hell Stella? Why did she feel anything more than brotherly love for Niall? Why was she so important to him? Because everything Stella is, she isn’t. What would her family think? Her mother say? 

Niall’s phone vibrated and both guilty parties looked at the screen and up at each other when they saw the caller id. Ginger clenched her body and stopped mid-swallow to hang on to each word that Niall was about to say. Ginger held up a finger to her lips, begging Niall not to mention her being here. He nodded and slid his finger across the screen and put the call on speaker.

“Yes?” Niall’s voice was smooth, velvety smooth- almost too smooth for the situation going on. Stella could get suspicious. He leaned his elbows on the counter and rested his head on his fist.

“Where is she?” Stella’s sharp voice cuts Ginger at her core. It was the hurt that Ginger had caused that was blowing up in her face, and she knew it was a defense mechanism that Stella perfected. 

“Who?” Niall was playing a little too cool for Ginger’s liking but she dared not to move or breathe too hard afraid she would blow her cover. 

“You know the fuck who. Where is she?” Stella huffed and Ginger imagined Stella still sitting in her cousin’s bed going through her phone. 

“I don’t know. She hasn’t called me,” Niall’s voice was turning to worry. He was playing the part well.

“Well, she fucking can’t because I have her phone. But she would have gone to you. She has no one else.” “Stella, she’s got people. We just don’t know-”

“Her co-worker? I’ll call her, but if you see her.. I don’t care if she lives or dies at this point. She is the most disgusting volatile person I have ever met and she-” Niall picks the phone up and takes the speaker off. Niall closes his eyes as if he’s disappointed in himself. Was it that he didn’t get the phone to his ear in time or that he continues to allow the erratic behavior to continue? Ginger stands frozen. She’s hurt and feels like crying, but the security guard got the last of her tears. She’s becoming numb to the low blows and hissing words that are spat in her face. Niall catches a quick glimpse of Ginger standing in his kitchen completely emotionless staring at a knob on one of his drawers. “Stella, you really-” Ginger could hear the yelling and the indecent slanders. She knew they would come, but for them to come at her and Niall, she wasn’t prepared no matter how much she thought the entire situation through. It was the silence that made Ginger look up at Niall.

“When did you hang up?” Ginger’s face feels hot and one look at him makes her breathing hard. She feels her chest start to cave in and she knows the tears are coming, but she doesn’t know how to stop them. She feels like she’s drowning in her own ocean of tears and there’s no life preserver or a rescue boat in sight. She’s treading the waters, but the rough waves of other people’s anger and disappointment come down on her pushing her into the water, and she’s swallowing down the salty words that sting her nose and lungs when she could be breathing in the fresh air. 

It was a fluid-like movement when Ginger hit the ground. She felt her knees buckle, but she knew that they never touched the tile floor. She felt the cold air sweep under her as Niall wrapped his arm under her knees and lifted her off her feet. His arm crooked around her back and hse rolled into his chest, hoping that maybe this was a safe place to be. The beating of Niall’s heart was melodic to Ginger. If her world was crashing and burning, this is where she would want to die. Niall carries Ginger to his bedroom- to the one room of his house that brought them together that night. His knee makes a dip into the well-made bed and Ginger rolls out of the embrace as Niall hovers over her. He pushes her hair out of her face, shushing her sobs and kisses her gently on the forehead. It was when Niall left the room that Ginger felt the magnificence of her heartbreak. Her best friend, her sister, her cousin. How could she have done such a thing? How could she have been so gullible into acting in such a heinous way? Her family ties are severed and her mother would be so disappointed. 

“Hey,” Niall’s voice soothes the sobbing. He sits something down on the nightstand and climbs into bed with Ginger. He scoots his warm body over to hers and wraps his arms around her body, pulling her in. The melodic heartbeat eases Ginger and she feels like she has a fighting chance. Niall begins to hum and the rhythm is something of memory to her. Something she heard in her childhood. Something her dad would sing to her. Ginger loses her fight against her crying. “It’s alright. I’m here,” Niall coos. “It’s just me, petal.”

Ginger feels the last tear roll across her under eye and down her nose. She sniffles as Niall kisses the top of her head. Ginger’s head is resting on the inner muscle of Niall’s bicep and it feels as if the way they mold together- the way they fit in one another’s arms was as if they were made for each other. 

“I love you,” Ginger says, her voice shaky and uncertain of the things to come. “More than I ever could have imagined.” It was Niall that was there for her when she needed it. It was Niall that was there to protect her, to pick her up when she felt down, to make her laugh, cry, to make her see things as what they truly were, to make her realize that life is more than pinning for someone who treated you horribly. It was Niall that made Ginger want to believe that love like the movies and books exist, and in their own twisted way, they were living out the greatest love story ever written because Niall was there when no one else was. Ginger’s sudden realization brought on the fact that she had a lot to catch up too. Niall had already fallen hard and fast for Ginger, and she barely held the baton in the race. She was terrified for what was to come, but she knew that the falling would be the biggest jump of her life. 

“Tomorrow, we’re getting out of here,” Niall said, his voice sultry, but Ginger wasn’t paying attention to his words, it was the smile she felt when she said those three words again. 

If it had to be that Ginger would face an entire ocean of judgment and scrutiny because of her decisions, she would be willing to do it with Niall.

Because for her, nothing else mattered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@oyesmendes​ @klairelavarias @thicksniall​ @dontgiveupthedayjob​ kare38 @verorax​ @stayclose-holdsteady​ @halfpinthoran​

#niall au #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fic #niall horan au #1dff #friends to lovers #1d fanfiction

[slashertalks]

I am a firm believer in the principle of “if it isn’t broken, don’t fix it” when it comes to horror movies. I am also of the belief that the 2000s-early 2010s were a relatively dry time for horror. The good stuff had already been made, and so began a seemingly-endless spiral of remakes. A veritable shitfest of studio competition to see who could churn out the edgiest reimagining of a beloved property that would make the most cash with the least effort. Sometimes, however, we got gems. I’ve already gone on about the Halloween remakes, which fixed many broken things (though I’d probably get my ass kicked for insisting the original Halloween ever was broken). No, tonight I want to shine a light on House of Wax.

Now, among the slasher niche of horror fandom, I believe this film is pretty popular. That is to say, I’ve seen plenty of content of the Sinclair Brothers. With this in mind, I wouldn’t necessarily say it’s an unknown film, though likely one that flies under a regular fan’s radar. If you’re not particularly into slashers, you may have passed this one off. After all, it’s a remake of a 1950s Vincent Price film— why bother? As it turns out, there are plenty of reasons to bother.

House of Wax is a refreshing film in an era where we got seven SAW films between 2004 and 2010. It ties itself up in a neat little bow by the end, with no real hint of a sequel, no wink and nudge at the audience— nothing. See, the nice thing about early films was that they didn’t feel like sequel bait. When you found out Nancy didn’t beat Freddy at the end of A Nightmare on Elm Street, it wasn’t a groan-worthy moment; it was legitimately scary. Now, those little gotchas just make me wince. The most we get is an acknowledgement that Bo and Vincent Sinclair, the two antagonists, had a third brother. I’d argue this isn’t any real form of sequel bait; instead, it wraps up the question of why roadkill guy wasn’t turned into a wax doll. What could’ve been a glaring plothole is nicely tied up and gives our protagonists a good dose of “fuck, we didn’t really win.” That, dear readers, is good shit.

I’m also fairly picky about my hick horror. I love all four of the original Texas Chainsaw films (yes, including The Next Generation, it’s an interesting movie), but beyond that I find the genre boring and overly clichéd. While watching this with my boyfriend, I noted that Bo Sinclair’s actor looked remarkably like Bill Paxton, even so far as to reflect (intentionally or not) some of Paxton’s mannerisms in Near Dark. Now, Bo is nowhere near as over the top as Severen (though he has his moments), and I wouldn’t lump Near Dark into the hick horror genre, but it’s part of a relatively small collection of horror set in the south. It was nice to see these similarities in Bo; enjoyable. Refreshing. Bo was not played off as scary because he’s a stereotypical bumpkin the way roadkill guy was. What’s so unsettling about Severen in Near Dark is that he’s really just your regular 20-something guy— he wants to have a good time with his friends, fiercely loyal and always ready to party. As I said, Bo’s certainly more understated than Paxton’s Severen was, but there are times where you can tell Bo’s relishing in what he does. You can almost have fun with him, and I enjoy that out of a horror villain. Sometimes it really is fun to be bad!

My one tiny criticism is that the reveal of Bo being the screaming child at the beginning wasn’t much of a twist. Circling back on that, though, I enjoy a good sympathetic slasher. Bubba Sawyer is a big favorite of mine, in large part due to his sympathetic characterization in the first film (for which we all have Gunnar Hansen to thank); Vincent is a similar lumbering, masked killer. I found the wax chair thing also incredibly visually unsettling (excellent bit of design there). Though Vincent didn’t really have a way to verbally shine the way Bubba did, I still enjoyed the little bit of character we got from his small wax figures (those not made out of human bodies). I do wish we’d gotten to see more of the brothers all together (including roadkill guy, who I unfortunately don’t have a name for— I’m sure someone can correct me). Part of Texas Chainsaw’s charm is the family element; seeing everyone go batshit together is fun! That is the one flaw of not sequel/prequel baiting; what you get is what you get.

The acting is all good, remaining adequate even at its worst. The effects are stunning save for the CGI wax at the end, but again, I can’t complain given the limitations of the time and the fact that you really can’t put your actors in a house of boiling wax. That’s generally frowned upon, I think. Though House of Wax plays strongly into the slasher tropes, I would argue that it’s a refreshing piece of southern horror, taking what initially starts as hick horror and turning it into something genuinely unique that stands firmly on its own two feet. Though it is technically a remake, the story is so drastically different from the 50s original that its upsetting I ever passed it off before. This is a movie that deserves our viewership, a charming bit of early 2000s horror cinema and one of the rare gems churned out by the remake factory.

It’s cool, it’s gross, the music kicks ass and it’s full of wax. You won’t regret sitting down to watch it.

#house of wax