#seriously setting aside shipping

[alexiethymia]

Still thinking about jjk 223, so I’m gonna ramble a bit. Another thing I like about Utahime and Gojo’s relationship in canon is their thing about Utahime being ‘weak’. It’s their thing. It was set up in our very first introduction to Utahime in the manga, and we find out that it’s been going on since way back into their past when they were just students. It reminds me of another ship of mine, Karma and Okuda in Assassination Classroom, where in the data book it says that Okuda is the one person that Karma feels zero threats from and as a result he can relax and be comfortable around her. 

I like how jjk 223 shows that Gojo in a way relies on Ijichi, someone who doesn’t fight on the frontlines, calling him someone he trusts above all, and Utahime, someone he’s repeatedly teased for being weak. I mean for all that he teases her about her supposed weakness, she never gets down about that, and instead reacts with anger at his disrespect (and I guess that’s another thing that I like about their relationship in that Utahime genuinely seems to see this op greatest sorcerer of all time as just some cheeky brat). Because there’s no doubt that Gojo is lonely as a sole pillar, but ‘weak’ people get to band and work together. 

Perhaps treading into headcanon territory, but perhaps because of this supposed weakness, Gojo gets to be comfortable around her. I mean in not so many (and rude) words, he says it himself. There was no doubt in his mind, Utahime could never be the traitor. Because she’s weak (ha). Even if she is weak, she’s not scared of him and will call him out on his bs (unlike say Ijichi whom he can bully around lol). As a fellow teacher, that bond of trust is quite important since they have the same goal in protecting and raising their students.  

tldr: I think the people that Gojo considers weak are people he can let his guard down around and it’s wonderful that he gets to rely on and work together with other people now in a way that he might not have allowed himself to before + As much as I enjoy gojohime in fics, I also do appreciate this subtle bond of trust they have in canon.

#gojohime #gouta #jjk #iori utahime #gojo satoru #jjk 223 #jujutsu kaisen #it's intriguing #like even if there's nothing romantic at all #even in a platonic sense the whole I hate you but I trust you #and I'll get on your fuse but I rely on you #are dynamics I really love #seriously setting aside shipping #the fact that the strongest is relying on anyone at all #and non-combatant sorcerers at that #there's something there #as shoko said #gojo was never alone after all #gojo's out utahime ct revealed now prayer circle don't fail me now #bring back nobara please #assclass #karumana #another ship I love and miss #ijichi

[cow-smells]

Worth your While | Opla! Sanji x reader

Request: I've read that you are in the need for some Sanji request or ideas so here's one for a fic :D

The crew gets into a fight ( it can be the Navy or anither pirate crew) and the reader gets badly hit and Sanji just loses his shit seeing the person that he cared for the most getting knocked out?? I just genuinely wanna see Sanji just go ape shit on people because of it XD and maybe hiw the others in the clue will react to seeing Sanji like that? @smolracoon25

Summary: You and Sanji have been playing the flirting game for way too long. When you get injured, Sanji shows a side of himself you had yet to see.

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: none

A/n: I'm going purely off the live-action so pls have that in mind, also I'm just getting back in to the rhythm of writing after such a long time so sorry if this is poop/ooc/both, love ya :)

Read on AO3

“Don't you ever take a break?”

Zoro's voice coming from behind startled you, forcing you to break your longing gaze at Sanji who was fishing at the bow of the ship. “Huh?” came your wise response.

Zoro looked from you to Sanji. “You've been making moon eyes at him for months now. Don't you get tired? Or are you waiting for him to take his shift staring at you so that you can clock off?”

You felt heat rising to your cheeks. This was far from the first time crew members commented about you and Sanji's – whatever was going on between you two – but this was the first time Zoro called you out so blatantly.

When you didn't respond, Zoro went on. “I just came to tell you we should be docking soon. I'll leave you the pleasure of telling the cook.” with that, he left.

You closed the book on your lap. You really did have the intention of reading when you first head out to the deck, having some time to kill, but then... you noticed Sanji. At first you thought you'd go sit with him for a while, flirt and banter a little as you always do, but you found yourself absorbed in taking him in instead. He was different when he was alone. The way he looked so focused, so deep in thought when it was just him and the sea. Maybe even a little sad. So different from his usual sunny exterior that he put on when he was with people. Falling in to deep thoughts wondering what he might be thinking about – maybe about you? - you sat and stared, not reading as much as a word.

The book discarded, you felt a spring in your step as you made your way to the ship's chef.

The creaking floorboards alerted your arrival. Sanji turned to see who was creeping up on him, and when he saw you, he set his fishing rod aside as a wide smile grew on his lips, his dimples deepening and making your heart miss a beat. “There's my favourite girl. Come here, let me hear all about your day.” Sanji held his arms open, beckoning you to come sit on his lap.

The flirting was nothing new. When you first joined the Strawhats, Sanji was as flirty to you as he was to any other woman; he did not expect to meet his match in you. You were quick to play along, always one-upping him, dancing along the line that separated playfulness and seriousness, never quite picking a side.

The problem was, in reality, you had chosen a side long ago.

You would flirt and giggle and make him blush but never actually act upon anything. Neither would Sanji. He, however, took your playing along as though it was a battle to be won. Sanji would flirt, you'd reply with something raunchy, he would surprise you with something heartfelt. It was as though he knew exactly where to hit in order to get you a little closer to buckling, every time. As time went on he had become so devoted to your back and forth that you noticed he had gradually abandoned all other efforts flirting with other women, to focus entirely on you.

You had to remind yourself that this was a game to him. An instinct, almost. It hurt to think of your relationship that way, but you had to keep that thought at the forefront of your mind if you didn't want to fall even harder for him.

So you would continue to play along, even if that's all that you could have with him.

You chose not to indulge him completely – that was too dangerous for you – and so you opted to bend a knee over the armrest of his chair. Close, but no contact. “Come on, Sanji,” you bent your head in what felt like a bashful manner and said, “you know I spent all day thinking of you.”

You weren't sure if he was blushing or if that was just your wishful thinking. Composing himself, Sanji wrapped an arm around you to hold your waist, lightly tracing circles on your hip. “I beg of you, darling – next time, come find me instead of just thinking of me. I'll make it worth your while.”

You wanted to ask, how will you make it worth my while? Just to hear Sanji go in to detail of what you've been fantasizing about for months. But instead, you opted for a tamer response. “I came to tell you we're docking soon. Maybe I'll find you then and you could make it worth my while with a drink.”

Without missing a beat, Sanji took hold of your hand, bringing it to his lips. “There's nothing I'd enjoy more.” With that, he kissed your hand, his eyes never leaving yours.

Docking started out normal. Everyone knew what their usual chores were when you reached a town, restocking and fixing so that the ship would be in top condition for its next leg of the journey in your search for the One Piece. So while Sanji went in to town to restock on groceries (you didn't pay much attention to the others), you, Nami and Usopp stayed around the ship to fix up some of the damage it took when you last encountered a rival pirate ship. That also happened to be the reason it was just you three when the same rival pirates noticed your ship docked, ready to take their revenge.

The three of you had your individual talents, but you just weren't enough to hold up against an entire rival crew. They had attacked so suddenly and so fiercely – it didn't take long before you were on the sand, fighting to stay conscious. You lost that fight as you watched Usopp try his best to fight off three attackers at once.

You really thought that would be the end for you. You should have known better; it was Sanji's voice you heard as you regained consciousness, motivating you to open your eyes despite the pain that flooded your body.

The beach area all around you was covered with pirates who were taken down, just like you – only that they were your enemies. You first noticed Nami's orange hair – she seemed to be taking care of a bleeding Usopp, his condition worse than yours. Following Sanji's voice, you found him holding the last one of the rival crew by his shirt, throwing punches like you've never seen him before. It took you aback – thinking about it, you had never seen Sanji use his hands in combat. Too precious – need them for cooking, he'd once told you before adding, the only thing more precious to me is you. It had made you blush at the time before you had laughed him off. Now, you were questioning if it was a joke at all.

The man Sanji was holding wasn't putting up a fight – he was far too battered for that, but Sanji didn't stop. He was too far away for you to understand what he was saying to the guy, but focusing hard, you could just about make out half sentences – "to hit a woman" – "don't deserve to breath" – "finish you" – you searched for the strength to get up and stop him. You had never seen Sanji – your happy, cheerful Sanji – so angry, feral even. It scared you a little; but mostly, you knew Sanji would regret it if he were to kill a man who no longer posed a threat. So you grasped at the sand, forcing your aching bones to pick yourself up. But as you were regaining your balance, Sanji finally threw the man to the sand, a look of disgust painting his handsome features. "Finally made a date with her and you ruined it... You hurt her. You're lucky I don't kill you." The man groaned in pain.

In a sharp change, his features went from anger to concern as he finally left the man and turned to where he last saw you laying. His eyes were full of honest pain, until he saw you on your feet – then they read of hope. "Y/n!" Sanji called, rushing to you as he could see your struggle to stand upright. "You- I-" he scanned your body as he reached you, taking in all visible injuries. "Are you – are you okay? Can I help you?" he reached an arm around your waist, waiting for your approval before he held on to help you stay up, so afraid he might hurt you.

"Thanks." his arm around you really helped you to stay up. It was a practical measure, sure, any one of your crew mates would do the same – but when you look up and meet Sanji's eyes, you know that the tense feeling between you two wouldn't have been replicated with anyone else. "I mean it. You saved us. We'd... I'd be lost without you." at that, Sanji smiled that deep-dimpled smile of his at you, the playfulness not reaching his still-concerned eyes.

"Y/n," he started. "are you really flirting with me, at a time like this?"

It was strange how despite all your injuries, you felt less and less of the pain the longer you leaned in to Sanji, close enough to smell his fragrance. A half-smile reached your lips. You couldn't play this game any longer. "Did you really beat that guy up that bad because he ruined what should have been our... date?"

Sanji tensed, obviously not ready to have this conversation now. His gaze dropped momentarily before he wrapped his other arm around your waist, holding you tightly to him. "I had a hundred reasons to kill him," Sanji said, and you felt disappointment bubbling through you until he continued, "but the most pressing reason is that he ruined our date."

Sanji took the opportunity to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear and you couldn't help but smile so big you were embarrassed by it. "I really wanted that drink with you, away from the ship and everyone else. Just us."

You recomposed yourself. You needed clarity. "I'm not playing anymore, Sanji."

Sanji chuckled. "Fancy that. I was never playing at all."

You must have forgotten how to breath at all when he leaned down, his hand finding a rest on your neck as his thumb caressed your cheek. Nearly a whisper, he asked – "Can I kiss you?"

You leaning in served as the consent he searched for. After months of pining over each other, wondering what it would be like – his lips met yours, in a mixture of softness and passion like you'd never felt before. Forgetting you were injured at all you sneaked your arms around his neck, pulling him in, almost afraid of letting this anticipated moment of passion go. Sanji was more than happy to pull closer, a hand on your lower back holding you impossibly close to him.

The moment did, however, find its end as you heard your Captain whoop and holler from afar. "Yeah! Way to go, Sanji! About damn time!"

Breaking the kiss, Sanji nodded at Luffy, his smile lines prominent as he looked the proudest you'd ever seen him.

The crew was more than happy to make a quick exit that night, preferring to not stay around until the rival crew regained their strength. You were helping Nami untie the ropes anchoring the ship to the dock when she said, "I really thought he was going to kill him earlier." you didn't know how to respond. "I've never seen Sanji like that." Nami managed to untie a knot, and Zoro began pulling the rope up on to the ship. "He's really got it bad for you."

Despite that questionable context, you couldn't help but smile. In a burst of honesty you confessed; "I hope so, because I've got it real bad for him, too."

On cue, the ship's chef leaned over the ships railing, looking down to you. "Y/n, my love!" he called, as though the rest of the crew wasn't surrounding the both of you. "I hope you're finished down there, because I've got a candlelit dinner waiting for you up here. And drinks. You know, to make it worth your while," he finished with a wink.

From behind Sanji you could hear Luffy ask, "What about our dinner? Just because you're lovers now doesn't mean we don't need to eat..."

Sanji sighed and turned away from you, probably to go protect your dinner before Luffy demolished it.

"Right then, let's go," Nami said as you finished untying the last rope. "While there's still food to eat."

And for the first time, you boarded your ship not to find the One Piece or the All Blue – you were just happy to be there, with the man you loved.

#vinsmoke sanji #one piece sanji #one piece live action sanji #sanji x reader #sanji imagine #sanji fanfic #sanji fanfiction #vinsmoke sanji x reader #one piece sanji imagine #one piece sanji x reader #one piece live action sanji x reader #opla!sanji x reader

[saintsenara]

Thoughts on Ron and Hermione as a ship?

thank you very much for the ask, @thesilverstarling!

i’ll state my position straight away: book ron and hermione are the best of the canon couples.

they will have a long and extremely happy marriage made rich by great and stalwart love, lust, fun, and faithfulness, rather than held together by duty and couples’ therapy like so many readers and authors (including jkr, who seems to have decided to spend the years since the conclusion of the series failing to understand anything about her own characters) tend to think.

i will state another position straight away: lest i seem like i’m just a fan with blinkers on, i think this even though hermione is, by far, my least favourite member of the trio. if she were real i would detest her, and i dislike how she is treated by the narrative as always justified in her negative characteristics. i like fanon hermione - perfect and preternaturally good - even less.

as a result, i think that it’s ridiculous that jkr has said that she thought ron needed to ‘become worthy’ of hermione. they belong together as equals - which is what they’re set up in the narrative as being from the off - and i hate seeing that undermined.

because ronald weasley? he’s an icon. and he doesn’t get anywhere near the respect he deserves in fandom.

there are multiple reasons for this - ron’s narrative purpose is to be the everyman sidekick, and so he is able to be less special than harry or hermione (the helper-figure); the amount of aristocracy wank in this fandom means that the weasleys’ ordinariness is less appealing to writers than making harry have twenty different lordships and call himself hadrian; the narrative interrogates ron’s flaws - especially his capacity for jealousy - much more intensively than it interrogates either hermione’s (cruel, inflexible, meddling) or harry’s (reckless, self-absorbed, judgemental) - but one i feel is particularly significant is that ron is such a british character that many of his traits are not understood as intended by non-british readers.

in particular - as is outlined in this excellent meta by @whinlatter - ron’s sense of humour isn’t indicative of immaturity or a lack of seriousness, but is, in fact, evidence that he’s the most emotionally aware of the trio.

ron is shown throughout the series to understand how both harry and hermione need to have their emotions approached - and i think there is no piece of writing which says this better than crocodile heart by @floreatcastellumposts:

That was what she liked most about Ron, she thought vaguely. He was very good at being suitably outraged on your behalf. For Harry, for her, for Neville. That sort of thing mattered, when you were hurt or embarrassed or wronged in some way. You needed to have someone else on your side, to be as emotional as you felt, maybe even more so, so that you might feel a bit more normal. It was very decent of him, and she was not sure he realised he did it.

ron’s inherent emotional awareness is an enormous source of comfort to other people. he does the work which isn’t flashy or special - he makes tea and tells jokes and is just there - but which is needed in healthy human relationships far more frequently than a willingness to fight to the death for the other person.

[as an aside, this normality - even though i think it is assumed rather than justified by the text - is also what ginny provides for harry. if you believe that hinny are a good couple but romione aren’t… i can’t help you.]

but let’s look at some specific reasons why ron and hermione belong together:

their communication styles mesh perfectly. ron is the only person hermione knows who feeds her love of being challenged and debated, and who is able to engage in this way of communicating without becoming irate when she refuses to back down. ron is good at picking his battles, but he’s also good at recognising that hermione’s tendency to argue isn’t intended to be confrontational a lot of the time - it’s just the way she works through feelings and problems. he’s far more easy-going about her tendency to nag, interrupt, try to provoke arguments, or speak condescendingly than he’s given credit for - and hermione evidently respects this, since when he does tell her not to push a situation (above all, when she’s trying to needle harry into talking about sirius), she listens to him.

that ron and hermione’s tendency to bicker is taken by fans to be a bad thing is because it’s something harry - from whose perspective the narrative is written - doesn’t understand. harry is extremely conflict-avoidant - he tends to take being pushed on views and opinions he has to be insulting; and he has a tendency to assume that he is right which is just as profound as hermione’s. he and ginny communicate not by debating, but by ginny having no time for his rigidity and refusing to indulge it - but ron and hermione bickering about everything is not a negative thing within their specific emotional dynamic.

[as another aside, this glaring chasm in communication styles is why harry and hermione would be a disaster as a couple.]

they each provide validation the other needs. it’s clear - reading between the lines - that hermione is a tremendously lonely person. the friendlessness of her initial few weeks at hogwarts seems to be a continuation of her experience as a child, and - outside of ron and harry - that friendlessness endures through her schooldays. i’m always struck, for example, by the fact that, when she falls out with ron in prisoner of azkaban, she has no-one else to spend time with, and that this is only avoided in half-blood prince because harry decides not to freeze her out. i don’t think her friendship with ginny is anywhere near as close as fanon seems to imply (ginny has no interest in being nagged either), nor do i think that she’s anywhere near as close to neville (not least because she is so condescending to him) as she’s often written to be.

and this loneliness seems to stretch beyond hogwarts. the absence of hermione’s parents’ from the narrative is - in a doylist sense - clearly just a device to maximise time with the trio all together, but the watsonian reading is that she doesn’t have a particularly good relationship with them. hermione’s obviously upper-middle-class background - the name! the skiing! the holidays in the south of france! - can be presumed, i think, to come with a series of expectations from her parents which she feels constantly that she’s not entirely meeting, particularly expectations attached to academic success.

[for example, the grangers - were she a muggle child - would undoubtedly have ambitions for her to attend an elite university and then go into a prestigious career. tertiary education of the type that they’re familiar with doesn’t seem to exist in the wizarding world - most careers seem to be taught by apprenticeship - and this, alongside all the other divides between the magical and muggle worlds which contribute to the distance between them, would be one very obvious area in which she felt the need to prove herself to them.]

ron, too, has quite a difficult relationship with his position in the family - voldemort’s locket is not wrong to point out that he seems to receive considerably less of his mother’s emotional attention than ginny or the rest of his brothers - and he too is constrained by expectations which he doesn’t know how to explain he has no interest in - above all, molly’s desire for her sons to achieve top grades and go into the ministry.

he also suffers while at hogwarts from being ‘harry potter’s best friend’, something which harry never appreciates. but hermione does. she recognises ron’s jealousy and never allows harry to minimise it (and she and ron are very much aligned on having no respect for harry’s saviour and martyr complexes). she appreciates ron’s strengths - above all his kindness and his sense of humour - and makes him feel as though he’s achieved things with them. and ron does the same for her; he is hugely observant when it comes to her, and he challenges and defends her.

the two of them clearly spend a lot of time together one-on-one while harry’s involved in his various shenanigans (including outside of school - hermione has often arrived at the burrow days or even weeks before harry, and they seem to write to each other frequently when apart). they do this within a relationship which is fundamentally equal. one issue with hinny is that, post-war, harry is going to have to get used to seeing ginny as a peer, rather than as someone he has to protect. but ron and hermione never have that issue - equality is baked into their relationship from the off.

because, to be quite frank, fandom overstates the role that jealousy plays in their relationship. it’s true that ron certainly doesn’t acquit himself brilliantly when it comes to hermione’s relationship with viktor krum (it’s because he’s bi and doesn’t know it yet), and a tendency to externalise his insecurity into trying to make others also feel insecure is one of his primary negative traits (hermione does this too, via her patented lofty voice when she’s trying to condescend to people). but this is often taken as the initial red flag for how the relationship would crash and burn, and ron’s toxic jealousy is often used in fan-fiction as the trigger for emotional and physical violence towards hermione which, frequently, seems to drive her into the arms of either draco malfoy or severus snape… who are, of course, the first people we think of when we hear the words ‘not prone to jealousy’...

but i think it’s important to point out several things in defence of ron’s jealousy over krum. firstly, hermione evidently regards his jealousy as ridiculous - she’s upset by it, yes, but her upset must be understood as being caused by the fact that she wanted him to ask her out. she doesn’t think he’s being possessive, she thinks he’s being stupid. secondly, hermione is equally as jealous over ron’s crush on fleur delacour and relationship with lavender brown. she behaves just as cruelly when it comes to lavender as ron does when it comes to krum - and the narrative only treats her actions as more sympathetic or justified both because harry dislikes lavender too, and because, by that point in the series, jkr has dispensed with any inclination to ever criticise her.

but, outside of this teenage pettiness, ron is never jealous of hermione over things which matter. he is never jealous of her intelligence or competence or ambition or success (indeed, he defends her constantly from attacks designed to undermine her in these areas). for someone who struggles with being overshadowed by harry, he is never upset at being overshadowed by her. he is clearly going to be happy to support her in any of the career ambitions she can be written as having post-war.

and, on this point, i think it’s worth interrogating why so many readers still seem to feel uncomfortable with the idea of ron and hermione having a dynamic where she is the more ‘powerful’ one. [it’s always a bit trite to say ‘but what if the genders were reversed?’, but actually that’s not irrelevant here]. if hermione ends up taking the ministry by storm and ron becomes a stay-at-home father or has a job which is just to pay the bills, what, precisely, is wrong with that? why, precisely, should hermione regard ron making that choice for himself as a negative thing? hermione so often seems to leave ron in fan-fiction because of a lack of ambition - something which seems to be particularly common in dramione - but, in canon, she is shown to not particularly care if ron and harry do the bare minimum when it comes to studying etc. she nags them to do their work so they don’t get in trouble. she doesn’t nag them to do it to the same standard that she would.

and, actually, i think that ron being less ambitious than hermione is something which is key to how well they work. because ron provides not only emotional support, but emotional clarity.

hermione is shown throughout canon to - just as harry does - have a tendency to become obsessive to the detriment of her own health. she is also often - as harry is - emotionally or intellectually inflexible, and finds it hard to move on when what she feels or believes is proven to be wrong. both she and harry are micro-thinkers, who lean towards knee-jerk assumptions and stubborn convictions (and, indeed, hermione has a remarkably hagrid-ish tendency towards blind loyalty).

ron is none of these things. ron is a big-picture thinker (it’s why he’s so good at chess). he’s a pragmatist. he’s the least righteous of the three. he understands that faith and loyalty are choices, and that sometimes these choices will lead to outcomes which are bad or hard. he is the one of the three most willing to own up to having made mistakes. he is the one least likely to act on gut instinct (and, therefore, the hardest to fool - i think it’s worth emphasising that he clocks that tom riddle is tricking harry immediately, the only one of the trio to do so). he understands that things are a marathon, not a sprint. he is the least obsessive.

and these traits contribute to aspects of his character which are underappreciated. ron worries about hermione making herself ill during exams, or when she is using the time-turner, and makes an effort to get her to set healthy boundaries and redirect her anxiety. ron stands on a broken leg in front of sirius or goes into the forest to fight aragog not out of righteousness, but out of choice. ron takes over the burden of preparing buckbeak’s defence when it is clear that hermione is approaching burnout. ron is completely right that harry hasn’t done any long-term planning for the horcrux hunt, and his anger does force harry to tighten up after he leaves the trio. ron has a clear head in the middle of battle. ron makes harry and hermione laugh. ron is unafraid of human emotion. ron arrests harry’s tendency to brood over the little things by looking at the bigger picture. ron will always come back.

ron is bringing his politician wife regular cups of tea and making sure she doesn’t work all night. he is helping his lawyer wife to feel less upset over losing one case by reminding her that she’s won ten others. he is noticing stress creeping in and whirling her off for a dirty weekend, or even just a takeaway on the sofa. he is teaching his daughter to be proud of her ambition and his son to treat women as equals and both of his children that all you can do when you fuck up is apologise and try to do better. he is making hermione smile on the worst days of her life. he is helping her strategise her long-term goals when she gets stuck on the short-term ones. he is telling her straight when she needs to get it together. he is seeing a misogynistic head of department call hermione a ‘silly little girl’ and choosing to tell him exactly what he thinks of that.

ron is the ultimate wife guy. hermione is a very, very lucky lady.

#asks answered #asenora's opinions on ships #romione #ron weasley #hermione granger #ron is a wife guy #also may i be clear #ron is evidently unbelievably hot #the text says he looks like bill #who is so fit that harry can barely see when in his company #hermione you lucky thing

[cowboybuddie]

once again THE NCR LITERALLY HAS THE RESOURCES TO PRINT FLAGS AND POSTERS. they manufacture their own armour, everyone has around the same guns and ammo, uniforms, ranks, salaries. the ncr is flawed but it is a semi-functioning society, very similar to our own. and this is based off the ncr in new vegas, where it had been stretched to it’s very limits! there is no faction comparable in 4 aside from the institute (which makes no sense but it’s not the time for my hatred today). no raider factions, no empires or states? fallout 4 could be set 10 years after the bombs dropped and it would make so much more sense than what we got. bethesda is like the joker because they just loathe society. the ironic thing is that the brotherhood of steel, the most insane hoarders known to man, an actual cult, have more society on that nasty ass ship than anything in the commonwealth. meanwhile the institute are proving why intelligent people aren’t necessarily clever (the only interesting thing about them) by swapping people for no reason whatsoever. seriously. me and the lads havin a laugh?

#fallout new vegas #fallout #fnv #bethesda #fallout prime #my rage knows no bounds #average fallout new vegas fan #this is also true for some parts of new vegas but they had four dollars and a dream to make that game #ncr #new california republic

[gh0st-t0wn3]

Lmk ss edits + Headcanons, Part 3 (Chang'e, Nezha, Pif, DBK)

- She/Her

- Bisexual w/ male pref (eternally devoted to her husband, Hou Yi, in Chinese mythology though, so I don't ship her with anyone)

- Constellation shaped freckles

- Even though her robot bunnies don't need to eat she still sets out extra plates otherwise she feels bad

- Ambivert

- Used to have a short hair phase

- Aside from cooking she's also good at coloring/painting and makes jewelry for fun

- Can talk for hours on end

- Would absolutely loose her mind if she found out about rollerblading, change my mind

- BIG sweet tooth

- Exchanged a few recipes with Pigsy before they left

- Uses Kaomojis

- Stress eats

- Chang'e and Macaque are besties (I saw other people talking about this and thought it was cute)

- Chang’e is one of the very few people Macaque allows hugs from because she gives the best comforting hugs ever

- She tried to teach MK how to cook once and he failed miserably, she has banned him from the kitchen permanently

- Everytime Macaque complains about something to her it ALWAYS has something to do with Wukong and Chang’e is honestly done with them at this point

- She is always energetic, like seriously, she can run around and cook and exercise for hours and never break a sweat

- She can play the flute

- She does Nezha's hair sometimes when he visits

- Her, Nezha and Macaque will all get together sometimes and just gossip for hours

- Hates it when her kitchen is messy, even when she's in a rush to make something or there's a lot going on she'll be sure to put everything in a neat order

- Smells like cakes, pies and other pastries

- Love language is quality time

- Her skin is always really cold (because of , y'know.. living on the moon) but she's lived there for so long now that she hardly notices anymore

- Doesn't really have a skin care routine and doesn't use a lot of products but her skin is always so soft and clear anyways

- Makes up her own constellations when she stargazes

- She has a small shrine in her house in respect to Hou Yi

- Has two group chats, one with Macaque and Nezha for gossiping, and the other with Pigsy and DBK for cooking

- He/Him

- AroAce

- Put his hair up in a messy bun the ONE time Wukong decided to drop in unannounced, still gets bullied for it to this day

- Would probably die if you ever gave him any kind of soda

- Has a scar on his neck and can even pop his head off like the headless horseman because of... iykyk.. sometimes pulls it off to scare people

- Like Pigsy, he's a huge environmentalist; got super pissed when he heard about climate change and pollution, like he was DEVESTATED

- Really likes chocolate milk, but only drinks it when he's alone because Wukong caught him once and still teases him about it

- Use to babysit Redson when he was little, especially when Princess Iron Fan was too distressed to look after him herself for long periods at a time after her husband was sealed away

- Taught Redson how to harness his powers while he babysat

- Perfect handwriting, it should be a font

- Has difficulty breathing, especially when he gets overwhelmed, due to... yk.. committing..

- Always has a least a small taste of metal in his mouth

- Redson would somehow manage to disappear if Nezha looked away for even a second so he wound up having to get a ring sling to carry him in, no one took him seriously with it on

- Sees PIF as an older sister

- Favourite food is strawberry cake

- Not necessarily a vegetarian but doesn't eat meat often

- Meditates to save and absorb energy instead of sleeping, that way if something happens or someone attacks, he's always awake and ready to handle the situation

- When meditating, stray lotus petals will float around and surround him that act as a shield while also emitting a peaceful aura that keeps both himself and the people around him in a calm state of mind

- Him and Wukong have a sibling rivalry

- Felt incredibly guilty when Redson got trapped in a scroll because he was the one Redson came to when his parents were gone and thought he failed to protect him

- DBK and him have an awkward relationship given the whole "Attack on heaven" thing, but have been trying to find something to bond over for PIF

- Erlang and PIF are basically his older siblings, like they'd be the kind of siblings who'll pretend to give him an important task so he'll leave them alone and then immediately shut and lock the door as soon as he leaves the room, y'know?? He still hasn't forgiven them for that

- Smells like Lotus flowers and strawberries

- Love language is acts of service and words of affirmation

- Likes the idea of hiking and stargazing but never has the time to do it since he's always working

- Isn't afraid to call out someone's bs (*cough* Monkey King *cough*) but can't handle someone calling him out for the literal life of him

- He loves flowers and their symbolism, use to study it before he was tasked with guarding the map to the samadhi rings

- He's actually a really good swimmer but people don't believe him because of his relation to fire

- Has absolutley licked himself to see what he tastes like

- She/Her

- Bisexual

- Has a beautiful singing voice and use to sing lullabies to Redson all the time when he was a kid. Although it's a rare occurrence, she'll sing lullabies to him even now if he gets particularly stressed out or anxious

- Feels guilty about being too mentally unwell to take care of Redson properly after DBK was sealed away when he was little but never knew how to make up for it so she just closed herself off instead which is why she's so cold with him

- Would sleep in a guest bedroom or on the couch for the first few years of DBK being sealed away because she couldn't handle being alone in such a big bed without him

- Follow up on the last HC, after she started sleeping in her and DBK's bed again Redson would sometimes come in in the middle of the night and sleep in bed with her so she felt less lonely but stopped after he turned 11-12 (or at least the Demon equivalent to that age cause he's like 500+)

- Does Redson's hair for him in the morning since he's always too tired to do it himself

- Use to style his hair like hers, with the little horns made of hair, at least until his real horns started growing in

- Her and Macaque are sworn siblings (I have no idea where this HC came from but I saw other people talking about it and thought it was cute)

- Sees Nezha as a younger brother

- Was outcast from her family after DBK started courting her, she was upset for a while but it was worth it

- Super long hair, like it reaches her thighs when it's fully down

- Master calligrapher, seriously her writing is so beautiful and neat

- When DBK was first freed, the first two or so weeks she would stay up as long as possibly and hold onto him so tight whenever she finally did fall asleep because she was scared she'd wake up and he'd be gone again

- Felt like she failed as a mother when she realized she missed Redson's first words, first steps, everything, because Nezha had to look after him while she mourned her husband

- Favourite flowers are Dhalia's

- Because her hair is long it's also very heavy, sometimes if her scalp is particularly sore from keeping it styled up in horns all day DBK will sit with her and brush her hair while she relaxes and watches TV or reads

- Cooks sometimes but isn't as good as DBK

- Has a terrible habit of hiding her emotions from her family (actually the entire Demon Bull Family struggles with this habit)

- Hates the feeling of ink on her skin, someone knocked over a bottle of writing ink in her hand once and she washed it for almost an hour straight to get rid of the feeling of it on her skin

- Smells like Stargazer Lilies

- Love language is quality time and words of affirmation

- Surprisingly big fan of horror movies (conjuring, exorcist, Shining, etc)

- Listens to true crime shows/podcasts while working

- Had servants home-school Redson and then took over home-schooling him herself when he was older

- All her clothes are custom made, and had to get them re-made with fire resistant materials after Redson was born, as well as everything else in the Demon Bull Palace (Clothes, rugs, sheets, blankets, curtains etc)

- Has separate makeup and jewelry boxes, one for everyday wear, and one for special events (anniversaries,  royal gatherings, etc)

- Ambivert

- If she runs out of patience for you, you will literally die

- He/Him

- Bisexual

- Hardly recognized Redson when he was freed from the mountain, which is why he didn't address him as quickly as he did Iron Fan

- Has a hard time trying to Remember Redson isn't little anymore, was devestated that he didn't get to watch him grow up

- Tries to connect with Redson and learn about his interests but it just comes off as really awkward for both of them

- Throws all of MK's (and other suitors) Courting gifts to Redson away if he sees them before Redson does (I am a firm believer of overprotective dad DBK)

- Learned how to cook for Iron Fan after they started courting eachother to impress her and it grew into an actual hobby of his, now he likes to cook and bake when he's stressed instead of yelling and breaking things (especially after the Lady Bone Demon incident)

- All his old cook books are pretty much dust after not being used and taken care of for several centuries and although he was upset, he still remembers a few of the recipes, majority of the food he makes now is what he learned from watching Chang'e's cooking show

- Exchanges recipes with Pigsy after getting to know eachother a bit at the beach, but they don't talk much outside of food related topics

- Once walked in on Redson and MK making out in Redsons room and promptly threw MK out the window (he was fine)

- Use to allow Wukong to take naps on his chest while they were still in the Brotherhood, mostly because Wukong would never stop and DBK eventually gave up on trying to get him to stop

- Got really emotional when he found out Redson got a nose ring to match with him (pretended not to care but started crying when he was alone)

- Keeps a photo of PiF and Redson with him at all times, it's not in great condition anymore because he was buried under the mountain with it, but it's too sentimental for him to replace it

- Knows Redsons date of birth down to the exact hour by heart (Canon in JTTW)

- Touch starved, being locked away for 500 years definitely took a toll on him

- Still hasn't entirely forgiven Wukong for calling Redson a "half-baked son"

- Much like how PIF will sing to Redson when he's particularly stressed or anxious, DBK will cook Redson his favorite childhood meal; he was worried the first time it happened because he wasn't sure how to handle Redsons emotional state and also wasn't sure if he still liked the dish he loved as a child, but Redson was visibly happier (or at least calmer) afterwards so he'll keep making it for him

- Has a sepertate pen and writing ink that he uses exclusively for writing to PIF

- He's a sucker for romance movies

- Will pick Redson up by the back of his shirt like a cat and drag him to bed if he's overworking himself

- Invited the Brotherhood to see Redson when he was first born; was disappointed when Azure, Peng and Yellowtusk never showed up

- Goes all out on him and PiF's anniversary to make up for the 500 anniversaries he missed (same with PIF and Redson's birthdays)

- Smells like dirt and regretful life choices (fr though he's been under a mountain for 500 years, that smell doesn't wash away easy after that long, Iron Fan surprisingly doesn't mind, but maybe she's just too happy that he's back to care enough about it)

- Love language is physical touch and quality time

- Cried watching the Titanic, don't even try to tell me otherwise

- Hopeless romantic

- Loves spicy food but doesn't have as high a tolerance as Redson (still very high though, but I mean c'mon, Redson is literally a fire demon)

- Cannot understand or use technology for the life of him, he's calling in Redson left and right asking how to download something or how to get onto another website

- Still feels guilty whenever he sees Redson flinch at him (because of the whole almost killing Redson when he was possessed by the Lady Bone Demon)

#fanart #lego monkie kid #lego monkey kid fanart #lego monkie kid chang'e #chang'e #lmk chang'e #lego monkie kid nezha #lmk nezha #lego monkie kid dbk #lmk dbk #demon bull king #lego monkie kid princess iron fan #lmk pif #princess iron fan #lmk headcanon #headcanon #lmk spicynoodlesshipping #lmk spicynoodles #spicynoodleshipping

[putaposyinyourhair]

Slowly but Also Like All at Once

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7

noah diaz x mirage (the ship of dreams or whatever that old bitch said in titanic)

warnings : reek gets his own flirt on, noah is tired™️, and breanna diaz is here but she ain't here to play

side note: this fic is also on ao3!

Noah’s kind of glad that as soon as he has the apartment door unlocked, Reek shoves him aside and barges his way inside like he owns the place. Because not a second later, a chancla comes flying across the room and slaps into the wall not one foot away from Reek’s head— the poor guy freezing up immediately, his eyes wide.

“Ma!” Noah admonishes, pocketing his keys and pushing past Reek so he can set down his box of electronics atop the short bookcase his ma insists on using as a foyer table. “You can’t just be whippin’ those around! You’re gonna seriously injure somebody that ain’t me one of these days.”

His ma has both her hands over her mouth, like she recognizes her mistake too, and when she lowers them, Noah can see she has the decency to at least look sheepish about nearly clocking his friend with her slipper. Still, it doesn’t stop her from also outright glaring at him— like it’s his fault.

“Pero escuché tu voz, so I thought it was you, and you deserve it,” she snaps at him pointedly, before she looks to Reek. “Reek, honey, I’m so sor—” she cuts herself off with a sharp gasp at the sight of all the blood on the lower half of Reek’s face.

“What the hell happened?” she demands instead, clearly concerned. Although the concern doesn’t last very long. Because she seems quick to come to her own conclusions and narrows her eyes at the both of them.

“You boys weren’t out gettin’ into trouble, were you? I swear to God, you two are gonna—”

The loud slam of a door sounds from down the hall.

“Is that Sonic?” Kris cries, rushing into the room like the namesake should be his instead.

Noah grins widely, toeing off his sneakers and simultaneously slipping off his backpack— letting it fall to the floor beside the bookcase with a small thud— just in time to catch his little brother who comes flying at him and nearly knocks the breath straight out of him with what feels like the world’s tightest hug.

“You missed it!” Kris proclaims eagerly, pulling back only far enough to look up at Noah. “I almost beat Bowser! I was so close!”

“Damn, really?” Noah inquires, reaching up to ruffle the kid’s curls affectionately. “That’s cool, bro. Just a few more tries and you gon’ get his ass. I know it.”

Kris beams and pulls away completely, releasing Noah, before he looks over at Reek and frowns, one brow arching.

“Who beat the shit out of you?” he queries openly.

“Language, Kris!” their ma shouts from the kitchen, where she’s already gathered some napkins and is bent over under the kitchen sink, probably looking for that bottle of rubbing alcohol they keep down there. “Reek, sweetie, come over here so we can get your face cleaned up.”

Reek relaxes— his momentary stupor fading— and his lips curl up into a dreamy sort of smile as he kicks off his sneakers then floats across the room to lean against the kitchen table.

Noah narrows his eyes at the other man, already knowing where this is going.

Noah’s ma slaps Reek’s knees open so she can step in between them to be able to reach his face— she’s already kicking up a fuss, telling Reek he has to take better care of himself— and Reek, of course, can’t help the self-satisfied little smirk he shoots in Noah’s direction.

Noah’s hands ball into fists at his sides.

“You hit on my mama one time today man, just one, and I’m throwing your ass out the window,” Noah warns him. Because, unfortunately, it’s a thing.

Reek, the absolute bastard, swears that one day he’s going to bag Breanna Diaz.

Which is absurd.

The only way that’s ever going to happen is if it’s right over Noah’s dead body.

“Ay, Noah, don’t be ridiculous,” his ma chastises casually, shaking her head as she dabs at Reek’s nose with a wad of wet napkins— completely oblivious to the fact that Reek is practically preening under her care. “Reek, how did this happen?”

Before Reek can respond, Kris looks up at Noah with a frown.

“And why didn’t you come home for dinner last night?” he questions. Their ma scoffs.

“You mean why he didn’t come home at all,” she points out, glancing over with a look on her face that clearly reads as disapproval. “You could at least call, mijo.”

Noah releases a sharp sigh, his shoulders drooping as he deflates under the weight of the guilt.

Kris wanders away from him, sauntering over to their ma and Reek so he can get a closer look at the damage on Reek’s face.

“I know, ma,” Noah acquiesces, defeated and exhausted, even as he reaches up behind his neck to grab at the collar of his Henley so he can pull it off— he’s been wearing it for over twenty-four hours at this point, and all he really wants is a shower. “I’m sorry. I just… I got caught up.”

His ma looks over for a second, both brows arched, before she returns to the task at hand.

“Ooh,” Kris teases. “Is it a girl? It’s a girl, isn’t it? What’s her name?”

Noah rolls his eyes at his baby brother’s antics, reaching down to unbuckle his belt and laughing when his ma presses a napkin soaked in rubbing alcohol to Reek’s nose, pulling an incredibly high-pitched yelp from the man’s throat.

Reek narrows his eyes at Noah.

“Oh, you think that’s funny, huh?”

Noah grins crookedly at him, his shirt and belt clutched in one hand.

“It’s hilarious, dude.”

The slow menacing look-and-smirk combination that distorts Reek’s face is quite frankly terrifying and Noah stills, tensing.

Reek leans back, just slightly, and his gaze slides over to Kris.

“Nah, li’l man, there ain’t no girl,” he drawls wickedly. “Our boy Noah over here, he’s a man of taste. He’s got a preference for something different; little metal, some rubber, six cylinders.”

Noah wants to wrangle his thick ass neck with his bare hands.

Kris’ lips purse to the side, his forehead scrunching— clearly bewildered.

“For the last time, man,” Noah snaps. “I didn’t fu—” he cuts himself off with a sharp inhale, throwing his hands into the air— completely done with trying to deny it any further— before he exhales at length.

Reek’s just going to believe what he wants anyway. Fuck it.

Noah’s ma glances over at him again, one perfectly plucked brow arched in question.

“I’ma go shower,” Noah decides, then points a long finger at Reek. “You better not still be in my damn house by the time I get out. I swear to God, bro.” He crosses the room and pretends not to hear Kris asking Reek what he meant by metal, rubber, and cylinders.

“Ay, mijo, por qué eres tan grosero?” his ma calls after him as he goes, and Noah does his best to not react when he hears her add on a quieter, “Well, there’s clearly no girl. He wouldn’t have a stick up his ass if he was seein’ any action.”

Reek’s raucous laughter echoes down the hall, following Noah right into the bathroom.

Noah slams the door closed behind him.

“Carajo, Noah! Don’t be slammin’ doors in my house!”

Noah huffs, dropping his shirt into the hamper that’s wedged in between the toilet and the sink— where it’s not supposed to be, because Kris has a habit of getting up during the night to piss, and being half-asleep, he drips all over the place. It’s nasty. His little brother’s kind of a slob but being the baby, their ma just keeps letting him get away with it.

Noah hangs his belt off of one of the hooks behind the door before he turns to the mirrored vanity cabinet and takes a second to study his reflection.

His curls are wild and he’s pretty sure he can still spot sand in there. The bags under his eyes are puffy and a slightly deeper color than usual and— Noah leans in closer— his lips look like they’ve been bitten raw, no doubt courtesy of the wild rollercoaster ride of emotions he’d experienced overnight.

All in all, he looks like shit.

With an utterly drained sigh, Noah slips out of both his jeans and boxer briefs and tosses them into the hamper as well, before he throws open the shower curtain and steps into the bathtub.

He showers rather quickly— which is kind of a miracle because he’d honestly thought getting all the sand out of his hair would take a lot longer. He washes up in a sort of automatic way, his hands and body going through the motions, while his mind wanders.

He finds himself going over every single moment of the last twenty-four hours with a fine-toothed comb. From heading into the garage the day before, wondering if he’d ever see his mech friend again. To Mirage’s sudden miraculous return— which Noah can still hardly believe even happened. To spending the night with the bot on that beach in Long Island under the lighthouse.

And getting the chance to meet Ratchet. Noah makes a mental note to thank the medic when or even if he gets the chance.

Ratchet had managed to do what Noah couldn’t; fix Mirage.

Ratchet had been the one to right Noah’s colossal fuck-up with the plate he’d cracked in half.

Ratchet had given him his best friend back.

Noah owes him a lot.

His mind shifts then, turning his attention to the metaphorical elephant in the room; the offer to join the autobots on their, hopefully simple, scouting mission to Colorado.

He purposely ignores the tiny voice in the back of his head— the one that, obnoxiously, sounds like Reek— that tries to remind him the mission isn’t the only metaphorical elephant in the room.

There’s also the matter of Mirage’s completely spontaneous flirting.

Because, yeah, Noah can definitely recognize it for what it is now. He might not have any game himself but he’s not that dense.

Plus, Reek had clearly read and interpreted it as just so— coming to the assumption after hearing just one of Mirage’s lines.

The man had badgered Noah the whole way up to the apartment over it; over whether or not Noah had ‘fucked the car.’

He’s honestly more surprised over the fact that the man had managed to go straight from ‘the car talks’ to ‘did you fuck it, Noah’ than over the fact that Reek apparently has zero issues with Noah theoretically fucking a car.

Which is wild. Especially seeing as Reek is completely unaware that the aforementioned car is actually a twelve foot alien.

But he’s not thinking about any of that though.

No. He’s thinking about whether or not he’s ready to drop everything— drop his entire life, not that he really has much going on at the moment— to go on an impromptu road trip with a bunch of aliens. To the Rockies. To possibly locate another alien. One that may or may not be one of the bad guys.

“Fuck,” Noah sighs, reaching out to turn off the water.

He wonders when his life got so complicated.

Unbidden, a vivid image of Mirage fucking with him as he’d tried to jimmy the lock and open the door on the Porsche simultaneously comes to mind.

Right.

That’s when.

Noah pulls a towel out of the bathroom closet— a blue one because his ma has them color-coordinated and assigned; Noah’s are blue, Kris’ are green, and hers are red. The woman’s surprisingly laid back about a lot of stuff— for example, Kris being an utter slob— but bathroom linens are not one of them.

Noah’s not sure why and at this point in his life, he’s kind of scared to ask. It’s easier to just roll with it.

He dries off then wraps his towel around his waist and steps back over to the mirror so he can try and get his curls under control. If he doesn’t, they’ll just dry up all frizzy and crazy. And he hates it when that happens. Because he’s kind of lazy and he won’t bother trying to fix it, he’ll just wear a cap over it every time he steps out of the house until he washes his hair again.

When he’s satisfied, Noah turns and steps out of the bathroom.

“Damn, mami, that’s cold,” he instantly hears— Reek’s voice coming from the kitchen. “Why you gotta do me like that?”

The asshole is still in his house, hitting on his ma. The kitchen’s out of view from where Noah’s standing just outside the bathroom so he can’t see his friend but he narrows his eyes in that general direction anyway.

Then, an idea pops into his head. And his lips curl.

“Reek, man if you don’t get yo’ ass outta my house, I’ma tell Rosie from downstairs about your special friendship with that white girl from Staten Island!”

He hears an abrupt thud from the kitchen and watches gleefully as Reek trips his way across the room, apologizing to his ma and telling her he has to go because he thinks he, ‘left the stove on.’

Chump.

Noah grins when the front door slams, signifying the other man’s departure. Then he spins around and strolls languidly into his bedroom, lips pursed smugly. He shuts his bedroom door behind him with a foot so he can change into a fresh pair of boxer briefs then throws on a random pair of basketball shorts and a wife beater, before immediately throwing himself face first onto his bed, groaning loudly as his body relaxes into the mattress.

He gazes up at the stuff on his wall— his Wu-Tang Clan poster and his vinyl sleeves— for a moment. 

But he must fall asleep immediately after that because one second he’s blinking at the Puerto Rican flag on his wall and the next, he’s waking up on his side, facing the bedroom door, after hearing his name be called in a low sort of hiss.

Kris is standing underneath the frame of his bedroom door, staring at him with a sort of apprehensive look on his face. He keeps glancing back over his shoulder to his own room every other second.

“Hmm?” Noah slurs, still half-asleep and struggling to keep his eyes open. “Wassup, Tails?”

Kris’ wide-eyed gaze snaps back over to him.

“Dude, Knuckles is in my room.”

Noah groans, lifting a hand to wave the kid away.

“That don’t even make no sense, Kris,” he grunts out. “He wouldn’t fit.” With that said, Noah pulls his pillow out from beneath his face and covers his head with it, hoping his little brother will take it for what it is; a dismissal.

“He says he’s taking you to Colorado?”

It takes a second for Kris’ words to register.

But when they do, Noah’s pretty sure he sets the world record for the fastest anyone’s ever jumped out of bed

#noah x mirage #norage #noah diaz #mirage #mirage rotb #transformers rise of the beasts #transformers rotb #mirage x noah

[popatochisssp]

Would it be too much to ask what kind of jobs the new skeles might have since you already shared bram would be a groundskeeper at a cemetery?

Looks like I never officially did this one for Wave 2, just Wave 1 over here.

So, while we’re at it, let's do 2 and 3!

Ash (Undergloom Sans): He’s semi-unemployed, or self-employed depending on how you look at it. He busks, playing his trombone out on the street and accepting donations from anyone who feels so inclined. He likes playing music and the idea of brightening peoples’ days in the middle of their commute, so the money doesn’t really matter to him. Sometimes he picks up small gigs at local venues, mostly by word of mouth, and eventually he breaks into the tutoring scene—teaching his favorite instrument to young aspiring musicians who find the same joy in it that he does.

Yrus (Undergloom Papyrus): He works as a professor at the local community college, teaching anthropology. He’s passionate about the subject and can’t think of anything he’d rather do than share it with a classroom of humans who probably have no idea how interesting they really are. If only one student walked away from his class with a new appreciation for what humanity’s all about then he’s fulfilled—but he tends to send a lot more away with that than just one, since he’s a very popular, friendly, and accessible teacher.

Brick (Horrorfell Sans): He’s self-employed, knitting blankets at home and selling them online. He doesn’t need a job at all, between the Queen and his brother, money’s not an issue, but he’d go crazy if he didn’t have something to do all day, and nobody wants to see what he looks like when he goes crazy. He takes commissions often, but other times he just makes things according to whatever he’s feeling and what color yarn he has handy and sells to whoever feels like buying it.

King (Horrorfell Papyrus): He works as a physical therapist. He more or less taught himself to walk again after losing his leg, and a second time after getting a replacement, so he very personally understands the need that exists for people who are injured and want to get back to their normal life—but maybe lack the discipline, the knowledge, or the tools to take that journey solo. He’s hard on his patients and sadistically merciless, but his success rate in terms of mobility recovered is very high and any complaints after the fact are begrudging at worst.

Merc (Horrorswap Sans): He’s a home baker, making cakes and small pastries for a small but growing client base. He likes the freedom of getting to pursue his passions seriously and to be his own boss, set his own hours, screen his own clients, et cetera. He puts a lot of time and care into what he makes, both in terms of flavor and decoration, and finds nothing quite so satisfying as a repeat customer or a glowing review and recommendation to someone new.

Ell (Horrorswap Papyrus): Freelance programming is what he does for cash. It was something he could both learn how to do and actually do remotely, without the need for more than the bare minimum of in-person contact. He likes problem-solving, and complaining about the problem-solving, and the field is pretty much always in demand so if he’s bored of certain kinds of jobs, or sick of the person giving him the jobs, he can jump ship at any time and be a contractor someplace else.

Pitch (Horrorswapfell Sans): He’s a boxer, more amateur than pro so he doesn’t make a ton doing it, at least not consistently, but he likes fighting and draws in a decent crowd by being a bit of a spectacle (a blind skeleton in the ring) so the entertainment value is worth something. Aside from that, eventually, he fills in for his brother as a combination business partner/agent/accountant, helping him get jobs and keep clients and manage the money he makes doing so.

Nemo (Horrorswapfell Papyrus): He’s unemployed for a long while, but ultimately breaks into professional photography, with a specialty in travel photographs. He likes taking pictures and getting to see the world in the process, and it helps that it’s a family business so he and his brother have pretty much full control over what jobs he takes and for how much. He doesn’t really concern himself with the money numbers, though, he just likes filling out his portfolio with gorgeous locales all around the world.

Sunny (Gastertale Sans): He does a lot of odd jobs, all over the place, generally (things that are considered) unskilled labor—bussing tables, janitorial work, desk clerking, that kind of thing. He doesn’t like the thought of getting too stuck into any one thing and being unable to try something else out later if it doesn’t work out, and there’s something to be said for the satisfaction of being closely connected to the results of your labor. Sometime down the line he will end up sticking in one career, as a dealer for a casino, because it combines his social, charming nature with his sharp eye and quick hands, but until then he’s happy to bounce around.

Aster (Gastertale Papyrus): He’s a bookkeeper at a nondescript company. He’s organized and thorough with record-keeping and double-checking data, and he likes putting those skills to use to make sure his employer’s finances and transactions all balance out at the end of the day. Some might find it boring work and he could almost certainly qualify for a much more ‘prestigious’ job doing something else, but he’s satisfied having a job that doesn’t require all of his effort and brainpower, so he can save some of that for his personal life and private interests.

Spectr (Transcendtale Sans): He’s a nomad, a wanderer, he has no job. He’s a robot in the shape of a monster—ostensibly still a monster, even so—in a world full of humans that as yet believe monsters don’t exist, so even if he wanted a job, getting one would be logistically difficult. Luckily, he feels no special need to be gainfully employed and just spends his time wandering around and taking in the world. If he needs something, he’ll either just take it or use one of his brother’s accounts to pay for it.

PapAIrus (Transcendtale Papyrus): He’s a performer, a disc jockey who mixes, makes, and plays music to crowds at clubs, raves, and discos, anywhere he’s welcome. He takes advantage of the perception of his holographic form as an artist’s gimmick, like Daft Punk, Hatsune Miku, dead musicians projected onto stages to play posthumously… In his defense, that last one is sort of exactly what he is, except he didn’t really start making music until after he died. Still, he has fun doing it and adores the fame he’s steadily gaining as a popular, cutting-edge technology music act.

Xanth (Ascendswap Sans): He does aura readings for people. For those interested to know, he shares his perception of their colors and the flow of energy in and around them, and just generally describes the sense he gets about a person. What he does is really more of a soul read than an aura read, so a lot of the color meanings and terminology he uses contrast with the kind of readings his clients may get from humans who practice something a little bit different. Still, he’s earnest in his desire to help people understand themselves and their energies and emotions, so he gets a lot of recommendations and repeat clientele who trust he’s the real deal.

Piper (Ascendswap Papyrus): He works as an event planner, organizing gatherings, arranging vendors, booking venues, the whole nine. He has a great reputation for making things go smoothly and always seems to be able to talk out bumps and snags before they ever become a major problem. He also maintains great relationships with people in the industry and delights in having connections just about everywhere in case he needs to call on a favor to make something happen for a client. He's got the magic touch and the silver (gold) tongue that makes everything fall into place just so.

Carmine (Underfell Fruition Sans): He works as a clerk at a pawn shop. He gets to handle a lot of interesting items and assess roughly how much they’d be worth, and he’s pretty good at haggling and negotiating with people who might not agree with said assessments. Sometimes people will come in with broken stuff they wouldn’t be able to get too much for, but maybe he can cut ‘em a deal, fix it up on his own dime and if they come back for it, great—and if they don’t, his boss’ll be happy to have something that works to sell to somebody else at a markup, how ‘bout it? He does a brisk business and both sides of the counter love him.

Tank (Underfell Fruition Papyrus): He’s in construction. He’s huge, strong, takes direction well, and diligently follows rules and protocols—he’s an ideal fit for it. He likes to work hard and be able to see a job come together, knowing he had a part in it and being satisfied with the quality of his contribution. He especially likes to take every safety training and equipment certification course he can attend because he likes knowing what the rules are and being specifically told how certain procedures are run, machines operated, et cetera. He’s very likely to be apprenticed in as a foreman if not the inheritor someday of the construction business by its current owner for his work ethic and dedication, but that’ll be a long ways from now.

Vi (Swapfell Fruition Sans): He works as an independent auditor and combs through companies’ records, internal and external documentation, processes, and accounting and ensures everything is being done in accordance with industry standards. In short, he shows up, demands to see everything they have, and looks through it to see if they’ve lied, did something wrong, or lost information they weren’t supposed to. Sometimes he can do this remotely but other times he has to travel out to a physical office somewhere and sit down with a bunch of stuffed file cabinets, and he really doesn’t mind either way. He likes the work and he’s good at it—maybe because he’s good at it—and he finds it satisfying to catch the tiniest little misses and errors to demand an accounting of them.

Hunter (Swapfell Fruition Papyrus): He’s a trail maintenance worker for Ebott National Park. He walks the paths and hiking trails and makes sure they’re safe and unobstructed for visitors, as well as whatever odd jobs in the area that happen to come up—looking out for invasive species, helping with a bench install, directing lost tourists, that kinda thing. It’s not especially glamorous work but it’s pretty much exactly where he wants to be and he’s happy to do it, probably wouldn’t pick any other job in the world…except maybe to volunteer for a seasonal fire-watch position and do pretty much the exact same thing, but more isolated and with a big cool tower to sit in.

Kohl (Descendtale Sans): He works as a mortician at a local funeral home. He generally isn’t expected (read: allowed) to deal with grieving families, that’s more the funeral director’s purview, but he works behind the scenes embalming, processing, and otherwise preparing the dead for their final party and last ride home. He has a strong stomach—or rather, no stomach at all—and doesn’t get squeamish or emotional about the dead, so that works out. They also let him work nights so he has several long, quiet hours of methodically going through the routine with no (living) humans around to irritate him or vice-versa. Sounds like a good gig to him.

Bram (Descendtale Papyrus): Yes, still a groundskeeper for the cemetery and loving it. It was something he kind of fell into through his brother, when he didn’t really know what he wanted to do on the Surface, but his brother sends dead humans off to their final resting place and said final resting place was looking for someone to dig holes, mind the grass, keep everything looking neat and nice—and that’s certainly something he can do! He also works nights, being that monsters are almost entirely nocturnal these days, so he’s also an unintentional scarecrow deterrent to teenagers sneaking in late for partying or spooky dares when they see a slim, bony silhouette materialize out of the shadows with a shovel in hand, asking if they’re just visiting or thinking about moving in.…

#anonymous #headcanons #undergloom #horrorfell #horrorswap #horrorswapfell #gastertale #transcendtale #ascendswap #underfell fruition #swapfell fruition #descendtale

[mermaidfanficlibrary]

Hi there! Can i request platonic HCS of the Stellaron Hunters x blind teen reader?

So the reader is around 13-14 and was recently blinded by some monsters that scratch their eyes badly

How would the Stellaron Hunters take care of them? How long would it take for them to get attached to the teen?

Ofcourse! Appologies for this taking so long!

Characters: Kafka, Blade, Silver Wolf

CW: Blood, big injury

Theme: Angst? I am not all that sure

Reader: Young Teen Male Reader

A/U: None

Premise: The reader is now blind and the Stelleron Hunters help them

THIS IS SFW

...................................................................................................................

Before being blinded:

You were a traveler. Always trying to find your place in the many worlds that you traveled too. It was hard when you were so young and never settled to make those relationships others had. However walking this new land with unknown monsters was not a good idea. Maybe if you went with others it would have been fine, but here you were alone facing a hoard of monsters. You weren't new to monsters, but these kinds seemed way more aggressive. It wasn't what you were expecting. You had basic knowledge of fighting things however this seemed out of your league. Before you knew it it attacked you off guard. Blood streamed down your face; you screamed in agony. You screamed and hopes of somebody would hear you. All hope was diminishing his blood drip down your face. You couldn't see anything anymore your eyes weren't there. However as if all hope was lost a glimmer of sunshine came. The lady with purple hair seem to fight this monster for you well another girl with silverish hair brought you to safety. Here you met the Stellaron Hunters. They were here to save you.

...................................................................................................................

KAFKA

Kafka is more protective of you

She doesn't baby you however

She knows really well that you are capable of taking care of yourself but she helps when you have things that you can't do

Takes on a mother role however more of an aunt

Takes you on missions however set you aside

You mostly stay at the ship though

Spends a lot of time with you

Teaches you things through speaking and giving you experiences

Tries to tell you that despite you being blind that you were able to accomplish anything

Feels guilty about not getting there sooner

Mostly takes walks with you

She's a very outdoorsy person

Listen to you all the time whether it's something silly or serious situation

Makes others take you seriously despite you being blind

Clever tries to babied you get to punch from her because she doesn't like you being babied for you being blind

...................................................................................

SILVERWOLF

She's very nonchalant about it

Doesn't really make a big deal out of it either

Treats you the same as she would treat anybody

Other indoorsy person so it doesn't really go out with you

When you do we'll go out though she keeps an eye on you through a camera or drone

Not in like a creepy way more of like surveilling you to make sure you're safe and so she can come in and or alert Kafka

Gives you books that are in Braille so you are able to read them or will read them to you

Very much like a big sister

Tolerate you more than anybody else

I'm looking at something to try to describe it to you in the best way possible

Doesn't it really regret not doing something however does regret alerting Kafka to late

You two tend to have a lot of deep conversation about things to try and distract each other from certain things when overwhelmed

Doesn't seem overprotective of you but deep down she does Panic a lot when you go out on your own

When someone tries to baby you she she says that you could do so much better than they could

Whenever given a chance she's slightly brags about how amazing you are despite adversities

...................................................................................

BLADE

Very much like a big brother

Makes it his repsonisbliy to take care of you

Refuses to take you on missions

Let's you walk around the area though unless if there are reports of monsters near by

Is accidentally overprotective of you

Doesn't mean to be but he just wants to keep you safe

Asks Kafka for a lot of guidance since he sees her as a sort of caregiver

He is always there when your in trouble

No matter what he is ready to kick ass for you when you want him too

After a while though does trust you enough to join him on missions

Still really protective and paranoid

Teaches you all he can about martial arts and such

Gets really upset when people baby you for being blind

Glares at people endlessly and silently threatens them

Will always give you affirmations when you doubt yourself and you believe them because he is not one to lie

...................................................................................

Do not repost or translate without my explicit permission! Reblogs are welcome!

#x reader #x gn reader #x male reader #hsr x male reader #hsr x gn reader #stelleron hunters #hsr kafka #hsr blade #hsr silver wolf #honkai silver wolf #honkai star rail #honkai kafka #honkai blade #honkai impact stair rail

[femmedefandom]

tried to re-read HOO series again and I’m hit in the face at how awful and forced all the new ships are. I feel like if Rick wanted us to get invested in the characters as individuals, we could have had more focus on their journeys without cluttering them down with rapid and poorly thought out romance.

the reason percabeth remains so appreciated to this day is that despite a few OOC scenes or frustrations readers may have, we can all read how Percy and Annabeth are a partnership who love, tease, and respect each other-their values and flaws mesh well to each of their benefit, set steadily against a tumultuous time and their own growing pains. below are the major complaints I have with the other ships and how quite possibly none of them should have been made canon. Not to mention a majority of the series takes place over like 3-4 weeks. (SON-BOO)

Jason x Piper: foundation is built on a lie so Jason feels an immediate obligation to Piper (and we know how seriously he treats his duties) and Piper feels shackled to a guy-due to some kind of time invested/sunk cost fallacy and his good looks-that doesn’t love her the way she wants or needs; if Rick wanted this to happen, they could’ve created a stronger bond as Jason and Piper over the books, not maybeboyfriend!Jason and maybegirlfriend!Piper. Idk, any romance with them felt super forced.

Frank x Hazel: oh my god NO, they are babies, infants in fact! two incredibly young and isolated loner/rejected feeling children who hung out together for some sense of companionship and comfort should not automatically be paired off just because they are both kind, available, attractive, and with deep seated sense of shame in their own being. No. I would have accepted hints towards a future romance maybe once they developed a bit more, acknowledged and made progress on themselves etc. Side note: screw you for the Leo x Hazel x Frank juvénile love triangle. I had to skim/skip those parts.

Leo x Calypso: well, aside from the fact that this just plays into Leo’s issues about needing a girlfriend as a symbol of success and recognition of his own worth…I never got the sense that either of them even LIKED each other. Calypso is always annoyed with Leo and berates him and Leo thinks she’s pretty. She wants an escape that Zeus didn’t give her (ignoring Percy’s requirement) and Leo wants to not be seen as a 7th wheel. But okay, for argument’s sake, let’s say they “love each other”. How do we know that she loves him of her own accord and not just because of the curse that forces her to love whoever lands on her shore? How do we know that Leo isn’t just riding the high of a beautiful woman “wanting him” and calling it love? I mean, a generous estimate says they knew each other like a week/month…and they weren’t chatting and braiding each others hair during that period.

Tyson x Ella: but why though??? There is literally no narrative need to put a romance here. Nothing changes in their dynamic if they were just friends and if we were calling Tyson a BABY in TLO, then I don’t think he’s grown up enough since for a relationship. Stupid and forced.

***Nico and Reyna are both going through no-good, very bad years and should not have to worry about unrequited love on top of it.

#pjo #hoo #rr crit #hoo criticism #percabeth #percy jackson #annabeth chase #piper mclean #jason grace #jason x piper #frank zhang #hazel levesque #frank x hazel #leo valdez #calypso #anti leo x calypso #anti tyson x ella #sorry if this ends up in the wrong tag #no hate to people who like the ships #they just make exactly zero sense to me

[cutedice]

Hi!!! Can you do ASL and Sanji reactung to an S/O who can cook? Just really fluffy feeding them and their reactions to how good it is an stuff

((this one was really sweet! thanks for requesting!))

When the S/O Can Cook

Characters: Ace, Sabo, Luffy, Sanji Warnings: None, fluff!

Everything is GN!

ACE

- He was ecstatic to be invited to dinner while the rest of the crew was running around.

- Really! You both tended to just hit up restaurants on different islands if you weren’t eating on a ship, so he was excited for a home-cooked meal this time around. Not to say eating a chef’s food wasn’t home-cooked, but there was something special about you offering to do it.

- He also felt bad about not helping with the food despite you insisting upon it. He bought drinks for you both to make up for that fact.

- It smelled amazing though once he stepped onto the ship. He walked to the kitchen and the small spread you had going on got his mouth-watering.

- "(Y/N), it looks amazing!"

- He gave you the drinks and a very appreciative kiss before you led him to sit down.

- He watched you serve the food up, finding it genuinely impressive how considerate you were with his serving size and what you were giving him. You knew his likes and dislikes (which was hard for some people to figure out since he generally ate anything).

- He watched as you set his plate down in front of him and he poured your drink to make up for it. Of course, he had to insist to do it. "You cooked and served, let me take care of the drinks!"

- Once everything was settled you both began to eat.

- Ace took a bite and instantly he regretted never having asked you to cook before. It was like a new flavor but it was familiar in every way and that made him addicted.

- Seriously, heaven on earth in his mouth and he could die then and be happy.

- "How come you never told me you could cook!"

- You told him he never asked. He looked flustered after that but politely excused his accusatory tone.

- Seriously though, he was dying in heaven-blessed flavor and he couldn't have enough.

- His plate was cleaned and he was eager for seconds. "Please, can I have another?"

- He fell asleep mid-meal and you swore he was still shoveling food in.

- From that point forward, he was insistent that you'd cook more often. He offered to help too! Whatever it took to get that sensation back.

SABO

- Listen, he's very aware that you like to cook. From the moment you two met he's known that.

- Plus, Koala kept bragging about you’re food, which did nothing but want him to try it more.

- So he has been patiently awaiting the day he actually gets to try some of your cooking. It just had never been a good or convenient time until now.

- Revolutionary duties aside, he was finally free for a while on a much-deserved break, so he swung by for a visit.

- It smelled wonderful in the kitchen and he noticed you hadn’t noticed him yet. A mischievous grin filled his face and he was extra quiet approaching you.

- "You finally gonna let me try some?"

- Scare successful because you nearly dropped your pan.

- After a light scolding and a few apologies from him, he moved to sit and watch you finish. Now prepping for both of you, you took a little longer but eventually, the food was done and you presented the bowl to him with a grin.

- Sabo eyed the serving, taking in what it was and what was in it. “Thank you!” he told you with a small grin, before grabbing his silverware and beginning to eat.

- The first bite he thought he imagined things. How could something so, for lack of better terms, simple looking be this good?

- But then he was downing bite after bite until he had nothing else to scrape up. "(Y/N), how on earth did you make that?" he asked, taking your hand that was originally reaching for his bowl and examining it. "You're hands have got to be magic. There's no way they aren't."

- He kissed your knuckles, smiling. "I'd be honored if they performed again."

- You told him if he wanted more he just had to ask.

- He laughed and happily agreed, asking for more with a bright smile.

LUFFY

- Sanji was very particular about his kitchen; more importantly, who was cooking in it.

- But, with a bit of persistence and charm (and lots and lots of begging and promising not to start fires), he reluctantly agreed to let you use it. That, and the chef was a sucker for romantics and he didn't mind a break feeding the bottomless pit of the captain.

- Said captain was sitting in the kitchen with you, watching from the table as you moved around. He was focused on trying to pick of any hint that the food may be ready soon, but he was also just enjoying watching you. 

- However, that didn’t stop him from being a bit of a baby over how long it was taking.

-  "Is it done yet?" He would whine, but he'd sit patiently and you rewarded that with small samples. He never seemed impressed with them though.

- It was almost demoralizing, the bland expression. You blamed it on the fact his sense of taste was wacky.

-But, you continued on! You were determined to make it good for him, so you put your best effort Into the small meal.

- Really, it wasn't huge. It'd probably barely tide him over until the actual dinner Sanji would make, but that was enough. As long as he ate it!

- You finished and served everything, marching to the table with confidence as you set his plate down and then yours.

- "Woah! It looks really tasty, (Y/N)!" he looked over the dish before he snickered and began to eat.

- You watched, studied his reaction.

- He paused for a moment, gripping his silverware and gaining a rather contemplative look. "This is... Really good," he said. But, he looked confused. "How come you don't cook more often? If you could make yummy food you should've said so!"

- He grinned wide, any and all traces of him savoring his food vanished and he began to shovel the rest into his mouth, speaking through and between bites about how you should cook snacks for him more often.

- With a small sigh of relief you began to eat, suggesting you’d try to cook for him again sometime. 

SANJI

- You hadn’t cooked since you joined the crew. Frankly, Sanji was quite intimidating at first with his reign over his area and it was too much of a hassle to deal with him peaking over your shoulder whenever you went in there for something. 

- But, it's been a while now, and you and he were together, so you managed to learn about him and his habits enough to sneak into the kitchen super early to start on breakfast for him. 

- You did have the permission, of course, he mentioned offhandedly a couple of nights prior that you were the only one he’d allow using the stove as long as he was available. On the off chance, that he isn’t able to cook because he’s not on board or dead, then anyone is allowed to cook except for Luffy.

- Regardless, you were in the kitchen and you were going to make the best breakfast you could.

- After it was almost done and you were finishing cleaning up the mess you made to make it, you heard the kitchen door swing open. 

- “Ah, it’s just you,” Sanji mumbled, sighing and relaxing as he gently shut the door and walked in. 

- He could tell what you were making without having to look, but he came in and inspected everything anyway, smiling and kissing the top of your head after. “Looks great. What’s the occasion?”

- You told him you just wanted him to have a morning off. Part of you also wanted to maybe show off, but that was a story for another day. Right now you were intent on watching his face as it softened. 

- “You’re too kind to me, (Y/N),” he wrapped his arms around you and kissed your temple before you gently pushed him away to get everything finished, shooing him to the table.

- He laughed and went to sit down, watching you intently before you approached him with a small plate of samples. You gave it to him without much of a hesitation; there wasn’t a need when he was giving you such a fond look. 

- He soon took a bite, his smile widening more. “Wonderful,” he stated, “I give full compliments to the chef.” He snickered and then gestured. “Will you write the recipe you used down for me? I’d like to use it sometime-- or, better yet, why don’t you teach me it?” he asked, taking another bite after.

- So from then on you and Sanji had dates once a week where you would cook him a meal and then teach him how to make it.

#portgas d ace #ace x reader #sabo the revolutionary #sabo x reader #monkey d. luffy #luffy x reader #black leg sanji #sanji x reader #op x reader #one piece x reader #one piece #x reader headcanons

[comradekatara]

ozai keels over and dies due to tea going down the wrong pipe one morning before canon starts. what changes, and why does it end up with momo as fire lord?

This Ask Was Meant To Be A Joke But Oops I Wrote A Bajillion Words

otherwise known as my take on an "Ursa kills Ozai" AU

ursa poisons ozai at some point before the siege of ba sing se. she’s gotten fed up with him, and says “fuck it.” the only person who suspects foul play is azula, but she’s like 5 so no one takes her accusations seriously, just assuming she’s mourning her father and is fabricating explanations as a coping mechanism. eventually azula begins to believe this herself, but she never stops subconsciously resenting her mother. zuko feels guilty for feeling relieved, but ursa is there by his side to help him work through his feelings in a healthy(ish) way.

the siege of ba sing se fails when iroh’s son dies. he retreats into his grief, journeying through the spirit world and coming to terms with the great suffering he has inflicted on others. he returns to his father a changed man, tells azulon that he can no longer be crown prince, and instead retreats to a smaller village in the fire nation to set up a tea shop and live in isolated comfort and relative peace. he never finds redemption, but he is content in the knowledge that he is no longer actively causing harm either.

since ozai, iroh, and lu ten are all out of the picture, zuko becomes crown prince. azulon only has a few more good years left in him, so zuko’s education in matters of state is turboboosted. azula worries that her soft, sensitive brother who prefers theater to warfare (but is also far too stubborn to be puppeteered by someone competent, like her) isn’t equipped for the position, and voices this (deeply sincere!) concern to ursa, who assumes the worst and scolds azula for speaking ill of her brother.

azula tells zuko that she’s overheard people having doubts over his ability as the next firelord, and at first he’s defensive, accusing her of lying to him and trying to provoke him like she always does. but eventually he relents and admits that he has doubts too. he wants to be a good firelord for his people, but every time he tries to argue with the generals in war meetings over their plans to sacrifice their own troops for grander victories, azulon pulls him aside and gives him an earful about how he is disrespecting the court and isn’t worthy of the throne. azula rolls her eyes and says “you’re not supposed to argue with the generals, dum dum. you’re lucky father is no longer with us, or he would’ve done much worse over hearing you spout your little treasonous inclinations like that.” zuko’s cheeks turn red and he storms off with his hands balled into fists.

eventually azulon comes out with it, summoning azula for a private meeting to discuss her future. he tells her that she is the superior firebender, the superior tactician, and his perfect heir. zuko’s defects concern him, and he wants to make her firelord instead. only he’s afraid that what with zuko’s temper, naming her his successor might infuriate him to the point of rebellion, and they can’t risk that. so they devise a plan to send zuko to search for the avatar, claiming that since both azulon and sozin did so in the past, it is a rite of honor for a firelord, and only a true firelord is up to the mission.

zuko, who is desperate to prove himself, vows that he will not return to the fire nation until he has done what his forefathers could not, proving once and for all his true worth, that it is his destiny to rule. he is given a grand ship, the finest fleet the nation has to offer. since he is only still a boy, ursa decides to accompany him, leaving azula in the care of her grandfather and the many servants of the palace. azula pretends to be fine with this, since, after all, it was her idea in the first place. zuko’s full head of hair and unblemished skin signify that he has more to gain than to lose. but still, he cannot afford to fail.

that said, he is in great spirits, fully believing in himself, with his beloved mother there by his side to provide tireless support for which he is greatly appreciative. he is constantly gracious towards his crew, full of great scholars who tutor him in matters of state, history, and culture during his search, as well as revered generals honored to serve the future firelord. he is eager to have a goal. he gets to see the world. he’s happy.

and wouldn’t you know it—two years into his search, he actually does it. he finds the avatar, the one who neither sozin nor azulon could find despite their lifelong efforts. he's hiding out in a tiny water tribe village in the south pole, disguised as a child. clever. since zuko is decidedly not operating on WWOD (what would ozai do?) he and ursa decide that it would be best if they arrived as a peaceful delegation to this village of mostly elderly women and children, and used their resources to negotiate a trade.

sokka sees the fire nation ship coming from a mile away; after all, it's huge. he dons his warpaint. he's been waiting for this day. waiting to die defending his people. but the ship does not park itself on their shores; instead, a trio consisting of a boy his age, a middle aged woman, and an old man (one of zuko's tutors, an anthropologist who wants to see this water tribe village up close) approach their village wall and wait for an audience with whoever's in charge. they look harmless, unarmed, peaceful even. katara is curious, even eager to meet them. so many strange new visitors in one day! but sokka reminds her that they're still fire nation, and they must be seen as a threat.

despite their politeness, their request to trade the avatar for their resources is indeed quite suspect. for one thing, the avatar hasn't been seen in over a century, so why the hell would they think that they have him, and for another, if they did have the avatar, they obviously wouldn't hand him over to the fucking fire nation. sokka tells them that they're mistaken, they will find no avatar here, and to be on their way before things get ugly (this is an obvious bluff, since he's already outnumbered, but they don't have to know that).

meanwhile, aang sees commotion in katara and sokka's village. while he understands their reasoning for banishing him after he accidentally set off that flare and put them in danger, he didn't realize that it would happen so immediately. it's his fault, so it's his responsibility to fix it. after all, he's tired of running. it's what got him into this mess in the first place. he penguin sleds his way right into the heart of the village, in between zuko and sokka, and announces that he is the avatar, and if he goes with them, they must promise to leave the village alone. zuko's just like "of course, yeah. i mean i was willing to trade stuff, so this is a great outcome for me." he escorts aang back onto his ship, while katara watches with tears in her eyes, and sokka devises a plan.

aang still hasn't really processed the whole "fire nation is bad" thing yet. he believes katara that the ship they explored attacked their people, of course, but so far, everyone he's met from the fire nation has been super nice to him. this is the future firelord and his kind-eyed mother promising to bring him to the fire palace safely and smoothly, and offering him any accommodations he may need on their journey, nothing like the monstrous soldiers of katara's story. just to make sure, aang asks zuko what they plan on doing with him once they reach the fire nation. zuko pauses, tilting his head. "i.... don't actually know," he admits. "once we reach home, i'll hand you over to my grandfather azulon, and he'll see fit what to do with the avatar, since he's the current firelord." aang concludes that this sounds reasonable.

aang is sitting on deck, drinking a refreshing (yet slightly spicy) beverage when he is approached by one of zuko's tutors. "it is an honor to meet the avatar," he says in a reverent tone. ("thanks!" aang grins brightly. he doesn't really want to be the avatar, but he won't say no to being complimented.) "please heed my warning," says the scholar. "being in the firelord's custody will bring you and the world nothing but pain. i don't believe prince zuko knows what he is doing by bringing you to our shores, but you must escape while you still can." aang looks confused, so he hands him his glider, and a pai sho tile. "consider me a friend."

a large shadow falls over them. aang takes his glider and makes a run for it, landing on appa's back and flying away as zuko rushes on deck to see his guest of honor escaping. "how could this happen?" zuko asks. "weren't you watching him? how did he get his glider? why did he break his promise?" his tutor shrugs, explaining that airbenders are masters of evasion. and this one has managed to evade the world for the past century. "you're right," agrees zuko. "next time i find him, i will be far more vigilant."

zuko knows that other gloryseekers in the fire nation will attempt to capture that which is rightfully his, so he tries not to advertise it, but soon enough word gets out of the avatar's return, making the slippery little airbender that much more elusive. he refuses to go home without the avatar in hand. (if the spies aboard zuko's ship, either for azulon or for the white lotus, have a hand in dispersing this information, zuko does not question it.)

after an... educational visit to the southern air temple, aang decides to visit kyoshi island to ride the elephant koi. they end up staying longer than they intended to, what with aang's excitement over having an entourage, and sokka's excitement at actually meeting a girl his age for the first time in his life. it doesn't take long for the news to spread to zuko, who makes a beeline to the island. he manages to avoid the unagi as he makes it onto their shores, accompanied by some actual soldiers this time. "hand over the avatar, and no one will get hurt," he declares.

unfortunately, the villagers do not comply, instead sending their warriors to fight him. they're pretty evenly matched until aang shows up, using a pair of fans to knock zuko to the ground and run off on appa while the prince is distracted. since zuko has no further qualms with this village, he retreats to his ship, leaving suki and her village to pick up the pieces from their battle. thankfully the damage was minimal, and no one was seriously hurt, but it does inspire her to make a choice.

zuko is too late by the time he makes it to the prison rig, but he does find something useful: a necklace that could only belong to the water tribe girl helping the avatar. "that's a pretty bracelet you've got there," ursa remarks. zuko flushes. "i'm just tying it around my wrist for safekeeping," he scoffs. he can use it as leverage, he knows. he just hasn't figured out how yet.

zuko tells zhao that he isn’t allowed to try to capture the avatar, since this was his mission, as tasked by the firelord. zhao smugly replies that zuko had his chance, and now it’s anyone’s game. the man who brings the avatar back to the fire nation is sure to be handsomely rewarded, and so zhao will stop at nothing to make sure that man is him. so when he successfully kidnaps aang, zuko has no choice but to don his mother’s theater mask, strap his swords to his back, and break aang out of pohuai stronghold.

zuko wakes up to the avatar talking about life 100 years ago. since by now he’s pretty sure the avatar is literally a child, he wonders whether the kid is referring to his past life, or if he’s actually just demented. aang asks zuko if they could’ve been friends if not for the war. zuko firmly says, “no. i’m not friends with liars who break their promises.” (he’s also not friends with anyone besides his mother, but that’s neither here nor there.) he’s obviously referring to the fact that aang broke his word by escaping his ship, but that’s not where aang’s mind goes. he looks down, feeling guilty, ashamed. “okay,” he says quietly. “guess I’ll get going, then.” by the time zuko has actually considered capturing him for himself, aang has disappeared into the trees.

stowing away inside a giant fire nation ship with countless people was a smart move, but june's shirshu is smarter. zuko is outraged that she would dare to damage a ship belonging to the firelord himself to catch a simple petty thief, but he claims that if she can help him find someone, he'll consider them even. june decides that gaining the trust of the future firelord is surely a good investment, so she helps him track down his little girlfriend.

by the time zuko has located the water tribe teens, the avatar is no longer with them. he offers to trade the necklace for the boy, but katara firmly refuses, calling him a monster. zuko realizes that maybe one necklace isn’t actually worth a person, so he offers them money as well. (“well hang on a second, how much are we talking?” sokka says—as a joke, god—and katara smacks him.) june doesn’t have time to deal with futile negotiations, so she speeds up the process by paralyzing them and tracking down her bounty.

the nuns’ perfumes disorient nyla, so june peaces out asap. katara gets her necklace back, and wonders how zuko even stole it in the first place. zuko laments yet another loss. his tutors remind him that it is simply not the way of the world for ordinary people to win in fights against the avatar. but zuko isn’t an ordinary person. he’s the future firelord. so why isn’t he better than this?

zhao steps aboard zuko’s ship without his permission (he doesn’t need it; he has azulon’s). he informs zuko that he will be taking every eligible soldier for his mission, as per azulon’s command. zuko learns that he is leading an attack against the northern water tribe. but why? zuko wonders. has the northern water tribe actually attacked the fire nation? they’re famously isolationist, so it wouldn’t make sense to attack them without provocation. even the knowledge that the avatar will be there to master waterbending does little to mitigate zuko’s confusion. why bother harming countless civilians just to extract one person?

ursa warns zuko against voicing these treasonous thoughts to anyone else. treasonous? is it treasonous to question why the fire nation would attack a self-sufficient, isolated society that causes no harm to anyone else? of course the fire nation had to defend themselves against the air nomad army, and then the earth kingdom and southern water tribe, but he thought the northern water tribe had never been a part of the war. is it really just because the avatar will be there? he knows that zhao is a power-hungry monster, and admittedly, he does find his grandfather quite terrifying, but this seems needlessly cruel even for them...right? ursa sighs. maybe azula had a point. he really is hopelessly naive.

zuko decides that the only way to prevent this damage is by capturing the avatar himself. so he takes a jetski to the northern water tribe, alone, and waits for them to let him into the city. he is brought before the chief, who demands an explanation. zuko explains that the fire nation is planning an attack against them, which he personally does not endorse, but if they handed over the avatar, then the fire nation would no longer see their people as a threat, and have no reason to harm them.

everyone immediately objects, assuming that this is simply a trick to secure the avatar before they just attack them anyway. but aang vouches for zuko. “he wouldn’t lie,” he promises. he decides that he has no choice but to follow zuko’s lead if it means saving the entire northern water tribe. katara protests, but yue just looks on sympathetically. “it’s his duty,” she tells her, her voice heavy.

zuko brings the avatar before zhao, telling him that if he hands aang over, then zhao can call off the siege before any bloodshed is necessary. zhao says, “we have a deal,” and locks aang in a heavily fortified cell. then he knocks zuko out while he isn’t looking, and locks him in a cell of his own. “foolish boy. you really think i’d call off my invasion just for the avatar? i’m about to create a legacy. too bad you won’t be around to see it.”

katara runs to sokka, who’s off preparing for a secret mission, and explains to him what’s happened. sokka slaps his forehead. “if prince ponytail thinks that zhao would call off his invasion just for aang then he’s even dumber than i thought.” katara’s all like “that’s what i said!” but of course aang and yue and zuko were all too honorable to listen. “so what’s your plan?” katara asks. “it’s simple,” says sokka. “first, we go to zhao’s ship.” (“yes, absolutely, agrees katara.) “free aang.” (“uh huh, duh.”) “and then we kill zhao.” (“uhm...............”)

sokka assures katara that he’ll do all the killing and murdering and katara and aang don’t have to get their hands dirty. katara frowns but doesn’t protest. they take appa (underwater, thanks to katara’s recent waterbending upgrade) to zhao’s ship, easy to identify as it’s the nearest, biggest one.

they sneak on without issue. any guards who do notice them are immediately knocked out by katara before they can even protest. aang and zuko are being held in cells on opposite sides of the same room. they’re both chained so as to restrict their bending, but between katara’s bending and sokka’s arsenal of weapons, they’re able to break aang free. and then aang says something ridiculous. “i think we should free zuko too.”

sokka’s just like “absolutely not. we’re here to rescue you and ........incapacitate zhao, zuko is our enemy.” but then aang does his puppy dog eyes and before sokka can even protest further he’s broken zuko out anyway and katara, the traitor, is helping him. sokka sighs, knowing that this is going to complicate his plan significantly.

aang’s all like, “well why would zhao even lock zuko up in the first place if zuko didn’t have good inside him?? huh????” and sokka’s like “I don’t know maybe because zhao is an evil power-hungry monster and he doesn’t want zuko to get in his way????” and none of them can argue with that, because that’s exactly what happened.

they make a deal with zuko that they will return him to his ship if he promises to stop hunting them, and zuko is like, “what if i stop hunting you for like.... a week?” and sokka is like, “what if i murder you right now?” and zuko’s like, “okay FINE. two weeks.”

sokka decides he can murder zuko later and goes off to find zhao, telling aang and zuko to go find appa while katara follows him for backup. sokka has no idea why he trusted aang and zuko to listen to him, because of course they follow them secretly.

and sokka is SO CLOSE to slitting zhao’s throat with the edge of his blade while he was sleeping, it would’ve been SO EASY, when zuko lets out an extremely loud, involuntary gasp from the corner of the room where he and aang are hiding. technically it’s not actually zuko’s fault that zhao wakes up, because at the same time, aang cried out “NO!” which is definitely what actually awoke zhao, but sokka has decided to blame it on zuko anyway.

zhao’s eyes snap open and he firebends around the room, only managing not to scorch them all to a crisp because aang, katara, and zuko all immediately respond by using their bending to put out the fire. a fight breaks out, aang and katara trying to incapacitate zhao, sokka still hoping to kill him, zhao trying to kill all of them, and zuko frantically trying to deescalate the situation. he keeps blocking zhao by just. putting out his firebending. and he keeps blocking sokka by just pushing him out of the way every time he’s about to land a blow. which is quite possibly the most irritating thing that has ever happened to sokka in a fight.

zuko is so annoyed by this situation that eventually he’s just like, “ALL RIGHT EVERYONE STOP FIGHTING!” and he yells it so loudly and commandingly that they actually do what he says and freeze in place. “no one is killing anyone,” he says. “the avatar will be captured alive. and zhao committed high treason by imprisoning me, the crown prince, which means that he is to be sent to my grandfather so the fire nation can determine what to do with him.”

his air of diplomacy wears off after like five seconds though, and sokka just says, “that’s stupid. you’re not letting me kill him because you think the fire nation should be the ones to execute him? that literally doesn’t make sense unless you’re some persnickety imperialist bootlicker. i should kill you right now just for being so moronic.”

painfully, katara is forced to agree with sokka. she nods her head solemnly, “sokka’s right,” she tells zuko, “and you are a moron.” zhao is begrudgingly impressed. he’s like, “wow if i didn’t want to eradicate your entire race, i’d recruit you as my lieutenant.” sokka’s like, “that’s the most insulting thing anyone has ever said to me but ok.”

this standstill is the perfect opportunity for aang to knock out zhao and katara to knock out zuko, which sokka tries to indicate subtly with his eyes and hand signals, but aang and katara are just like, “what? what are you saying?” and they’re mouthing to each other looking all stupid which is the perfect opportunity for zhao to just. slip out of the room and lock the door behind him, leaving them all trapped. he gathers the most important members of his crew and lets them know to move to another ship as quickly as possible, since there’s no way that door will hold the avatar for long. he lets the rest of his crew know that they’re about to be in for the fight of their lives.

aang tries to use airbending to kick down the door, which only dents the metal slightly. then katara tries to freeze the hinges, but the door only opens from the top, leaving an opening so small even momo couldn’t climb through (and momo is back in agna qel’a safely with yue anyway). then zuko uses his firebending powered kicks to try to pry the door off its hinges, leaving it rattled and slightly more dented. just as aang is about to try again, sokka’s like, “is it my turn yet?” takes out the knife in his boot, and picks the lock. katara smacks him over the head for not just having done that in the first place.

the entirety of zhao’s remaining crew is right outside the door, waiting to kill all of them at their admiral’s orders. it’s a brutal fight. they don’t hold back, no matter how many times zuko insists that he ranks higher than zhao and therefore they should be listening to him! katara knocks out most of them with a water whip, and aang takes out the rest with an airbending move that gives them all the concussion of their lives. they run back to appa as fast as they can, mowing down soldiers along the way. they don’t really have another option, so they let zuko climb onto appa too.

they fly back to the capital, where arnook is waiting for them. they explain the situation as quickly as possible, and that the secret mission to take out zhao was a bust. (sokka will later realize that he could’ve killed zhao before freeing aang, and regret everything.) yue suggests getting help from the spirits, so she takes aang and katara to the oasis so that aang can enter the spirit world and seek the guidance he needs.

meanwhile, sokka and arnook are debating what to do with zuko. on one hand, he did try to protect their tribe, which means he should get diplomatic immunity since he’s technically their ally against this invasion. on the other hand, he’s the crown prince of the fire nation, and if they hold him for ransom then the firelord will probably call off the siege. but also the message won’t be received in time for that, since zhao could be approaching any second, so maybe it would be more helpful to use zuko to fight against this army, which he could probably be convinced to do. meanwhile zuko is sitting in a little prison cell like, “i wonder how mom’s doing...”

pakku gets a message from the white lotus that the crown prince has been missing for a day, along with a jetski, and if he happens to know where he might have gone? with some light snooping, pakku finds out that zuko is being held prisoner, but they're probably going to free him since he doesn't really seem to be a threat. so he assures the white lotus that he's safe in their city, and not to worry. ursa worries.

sokka goes to visit zuko, giving him the option to fight in exchange for his freedom, when he sees a shadow slink into the wall. he pretends not to notice anything. "we've decided to release you provided you help us prepare and fight against zhao's invasion, which seems like something you'd be willing to do considering he just tried to kill you. the blue spirit can help too i guess," he says, gesturing to ursa in the corner of the room, who scoffs behind her mask.

zuko agrees that zhao committing high treason, going back on his word, trying to kill the avatar, and invading an isolationist society are all pretty good grounds for fighting that guy. he's very confused by what sokka means about the blue spirit, though, because he was pretty sure that he's the blue spirit...? ursa takes off her mask and waves. zuko lights up. "MOM!!!!!!!!!" he cries, and rushes to hug her as sokka unlocks the door to his cell. and ohmygod sokka hates this guy so fucking much.

ursa's like, "are you sure you don't want to apturecay the vataray?" sokka rolls his eyes at her assumption that he somehow can't hear and/or understand her. or maybe she just doesn't care. zuko's like, "ugh, i promised them a two weeks truce." ursa doesn't know whether to be proud of or annoyed by her son who refuses to go back on his word, ever.

sokka takes zuko (and ursa) to arnook, who can command them as he best sees fit, and then heads over to the spirit oasis so he can be there for katara, aang, and yue. aang is busy meditating, so katara and yue are just standing there keeping watch and hoping for the best. zhao enters through the door while aang is still in the spirit world. katara defends aang with everything she has, and sokka is torn between providing backup and making sure no one lays a hand on yue. they're sorely outnumbered. especially because while katara and sokka are busy protecting aang (and yue), they leave room open for zhao to pluck a certain koi fish out of a pond.

aang returns to his body a second too late. "why is the moon red?" he asks. then he sees zhao. "oh no." he begs with zhao, pleads him not to do this. destroying the moon wouldn't just hurt the water tribes, but the whole world. just put the fish down, and then they can negotiate. zhao slowly sets tui down. and then he roasts it. the sky goes dark. aang blows a gust of wind at zhao and his soldiers so powerful that it knocks half of them out. zhao knows that there's no winning a fight against the avatar, and runs out of the oasis. he got what he came for anyway.

yue starts crying. "there's no hope now," she says. "it's over." katara can't bend. the sky is black. she feels as sick as she did when she was born. "no," says aang, his voice echoing with his countless lifetimes. "it's not over." he steps into the pond, and emerges bonded with the ocean spirit. so that one solves one problem. the entire fire navy fleet is decimated in a matter of minutes, and the ocean drops aang off on the wall of the city once they're certain their mission is complete.

meanwhile zuko is fighting zhao on another bridge, more furious than zhao has ever seen him. "how could you could this?" he shouts, pummeling zhao with fireballs. even as zhao nearly trips trying to block zuko's attack, he sneers. "i didn't do anything your father wouldn't have done, had he taken his rightful place on the throne." zuko can't believe this. his father died when he was just a child. yes, he was somewhat cold and distant, but zuko has fond memories of him too, like when he would teach him history while sitting on the beach at ember island, or when he would play soldier with him in the garden (or... wait.... was that uncle iroh?). "if only your bitch of a mother didn't kill him."

zuko suddenly remembers something azula said to him, only once. his ears ring. he repeats what he had said (shouted) then. "you're lying!" his fireballs grow even stronger. suddenly, a giant glowing hand emerges from the canal. zuko ducks and rolls out of the way, but the hand wasn't after him anyway. without thinking, zuko reaches out to zhao. "grab my hand!" he tells him, and zhao nearly does it before thinking better of it and pulling away. the last thing zhao sees is the moon shining bright in the sky once more.

zuko wipes his eyes before teartracks can freeze his cheeks, and then goes to find his mom. sokka and katara go to find aang. they all find one another on the bridge, ursa already tending to aang who is slumped on the ground. "what happened to the moon?" zuko asks. sokka doesn't answer, his mouth set in a thin line. "what happened to zhao?" asks katara. zuko doesn't answer, merely looks down. "did you kill him?" asks sokka. since zuko doesn't respond, they take this to mean that he did. "oh man," whines sokka. "i wanted to do that!" he had already been prepared to kill zhao, and then yue... ugh. it's not fair! why does this idiot get everything good??

in the morning, arnook sends zuko back to his ship as a thanks for killing zhao (zuko doesn't bother to correct him). the gaang stays behind for a bit to help clean up the mess, but sokka insists that they have to leave soon to find aang an earthbending teacher (and if he doesn't wanna stay here another second longer for other reasons, he doesn't mention it). they go find a general who wants to help aang access the avatar state, while zuko and what's left of his crew travel to a spa to relax for a while, seeing as he can't attempt to capture the avatar at the moment anyway.

who shows up but azula, who zuko hasn't seen in years. "wow, zuzu, you look terrible," is one of the first things out of her mouth, but he can't even be offended because he knows it's true. he's barely slept since the siege of the north, and the only food he's kept down is plain white rice. ursa was hoping the resort would help improve his health, but he can't hide his declining state from his sister. he's haunted by images of zhao going under, pulling away from his hand in disgust, of his mother doing the same to ozai. he doesn't know who to trust anymore. he thinks he might hate himself. "don't call me that," zuko snaps. he hasn't seen his sister in years. she looks different. colder, sharper.

"hello, azula, it's really good to see you," ursa says calmly. she goes in for a hug, but azula blocks her. "you didn't even write," she says, refusing to look her mother in the eye. ursa frowns. "of course i did," she says. "did you not receive my letters?" she hadn't. azulon had intercepted them. he thought it best if he kept azula all to himself. azula thinks she's being mocked, but she holds back her tears, as she's been learning to do since she was born. "grandfather wants you back in the fire nation," she tells zuko. "his health is declining. you ought to prepare for your coronation."

zuko doesn't really want to return, but he doesn't know how he feels traveling the world with his mom anymore, and it's his duty to take the throne, so it's not like he has a choice. then one of azula's crew lets it slip that zuko is not their honored guest, but their prisoner, and all hell breaks loose. "of course grandfather doesn't want you on the throne!" azula taunts him. "your repeated failure to capture the avatar has been an embarrassment! not to mention, you aided the water tribe during the siege, and literally killed an admiral."

"i didn't kill him, i tried to save him!" zuko protests. "and the avatar is extremely powerful, even you couldn't catch him." (azula takes this as a challenge.) zuko and ursa barely escape with their lives, being given enough of a head start only because ursa pushed azula into the water below. she doesn't even make sure to check if her daughter is okay, she just grabs zuko's hand and runs.

they run and run until they reach a clearing in the woods. zuko throws up in the river. "i didn't kill zhao," he whispers, over and over again. "i didn't kill zhao... i didn't....." ursa hugs him as breaks down. "i know honey, i know." but zuko is shaking in her arms for another reason. "did you kill my father?" he asks. ursa tenses, and zuko backs away from her. "no," she says. "no, of course not. why would you think that?"

"you did.... didn't you....." zuko can barely control his rage. ursa starts crying, pleading with him. "you don't understand, zuko, he would've killed you. killed me. please, you must understand. i had no other choice. it was self-defense." zuko shakes his head. "i get why you did it," he says, because he may be naive, but he's not stupid. "but why did you lie to me? everyone acted like azula was crazy, but she was right all along."

ursa smiles sadly. "i lied to protect you," she says. "i couldn't let anyone else know what i did." zuko sees his mother for the first time. he unsheathes his knife, the pearl dagger uncle iroh gave him just before he disappeared. "cut. your. hair." honor never meant much to ursa, she knew it to be a hollow facade that hid ill-tempered husbands behind delusions of grandeur. but she knows how much it means to zuko. so she takes his knife and cuts her hair to her chin, too short to tie into a topknot.

zuko takes the knife back, and in the spur of the moment, cuts off his ponytail too. he doesn't even fully know why he does it. it's not like he murdered anyone. but he also knows that if it came down to it, he'd do anything for his mother, and maybe that counts all the same. "we have to keep moving," ursa tells him. "azula could be on our trail right now." zuko is about to protest that it's all a misunderstanding, that if he just talked to his grandfather he could clear his name, but another, newer part of him doesn't even believe that anymore. so he takes ursa's hand, and they head to the nearest earth kingdom town in search for provisions and a map that can lead them to ba sing se.

after weeks of traveling from town to town, depending on the kindness of strangers to keep them fed (or well, ursa fed. zuko still doesn't eat much), zuko can't take it anymore. "i'm the crown prince," he complains, "i shouldn't be living like this! i need to go talk to azula and make things right." ursa shakes her head. "what you need is to be patient," she says. "once we reach ba sing se, we'll find a roof over our heads, good jobs, and a steady life. a little hard work won't kill you in the meantime." zuko is about to complain that it most certainly will, but his mom has been doing so much for him lately (and his whole life), so he just sighs and acquiesces.

one night, while they're sleeping in someone's barn, zuko asks his mom how she knows how to do all kinds of manual labor. that's not the kind of thing you learn growing up in a palace. ursa explains that she wasn't actually raised as a noble, although she has noble blood. she grew up in a small village in the southern fire nation, where she likely would have spent her whole life if she hadn't been chosen to be ozai's bride due to her relation to avatar roku. zuko's just like, "uh....... hold up????? you literally never told me any of this?????????"

ursa says she figured it wasn't important. even zuko knows that's a lie. it seems extremely important. "elaborate. now," he demands. so ursa tells him stories of growing up on a small, quiet island, studying theater with her friends, firebending with her mom, and fishing with her dad. she tells him about how she was taken away, given no choice. she tells him stories of what ozai said to her, what he did to her. she doesn't go into detail or anything, but she figures zuko is old enough to know. she tells him more stories the next night, lighter ones this time. the story of where she got her favorite mask. the story of making sweet buns with her brother. stories about zuko and azula when they were babies. the night after that, she tells him the story of roku and sozin.

"i don't understand," says zuko. "sozin let roku die?? why would he do that?? roku was his friend!" ursa can't help it; she laughs. "roku was the only thing stopping sozin from spreading the glory of the fire nation across the world. he cared about roku, but he also cared about his nation." zuko scoffs. "it sounds to me like he cared about no one but himself." ursa would scold him for voicing such a thought if she hadn't been wondering the same thing.

the next morning, zuko slips away silently with his swords strapped to his back. he's tired of running. so when azula tracks aang to a ghost town, zuko appears moments later. "zuko?" exclaims aang. he's so tired, he wonders if he's hallucinating. they haven't seen zuko since the north pole, and despite his new haircut being quite flattering, he looks even worse than aang currently feels. he doesn't have much time to reflect, since azula uses this pause to attack aang, and zuko is trying to intervene for reasons unclear to both of them. katara and sokka show up to defend aang.

meanwhile toph has bumped into a woman about her mother's age on the side of the road. they have a long talk, and they both feel a lot better by the end of it, even if it makes toph miss her mom and ursa miss azula. toph returns to the gaang just in time to save their butts. zuko keeps yelling for azula to stop so they can talk, but azula's just like "can't you see i'm busy right now?"

what does catch her attention, though, is the arrival of ursa. the woman who brought her into the world, and, most recently, pushed her into the sea without a second thought. her hair is shorter. “azula," says ursa sternly, in that what am i going to do with this truculent child voice she has never once used on zuko. "we need to talk."

"yes, yes, mother," says azula. "once i've captured the avatar, then we can hash everything out." ursa grabs azula by the back of her collar as if she's a kitten. "now, young lady!" and she marches azula to the other side of the town, motioning for zuko to stay put. toph is suddenly far less regretful of the fact that this woman is not her mother.

"so...." says zuko, upon noticing that three familiar pairs of eyes are staring at him. he waves awkwardly. aang waves back, but feels so stupid that he puts his hand down after a single second of consideration. "okay," says sokka. "we're all thinking it, so i'm just gonna say it. you look awful." aang and katara both nod. he really does. "oh my god," says toph, "let's LEAVE."

out of the corner of her eye, azula catches the avatar and his companions just walking away, without so much as a fight from zuko, and she squirms in ursa's grasp. "but–" she protests, pointing at the receding blur of orange and yellow. "don't talk back to me!" ursa snaps as she continues lecturing azula on why she needs to be a better sister to zuko and it's clear she wants to take the throne but as a woman that just isn't her place and–

"that's rich coming from the woman who murdered her husband," azula says. ursa does not dignify azula's comment with a response. "also, i don't want the throne," azula continues. "grandfather wants me to have the throne. i'm just doing what he told me to." the fact that he own mother thinks so little of her, that she hasn't seen her in years, didn't even bother to write, and now all she wants to do is lecture her on not being good enough... azula does not cry. her lip wobbles a little, but she's fine. she's fine.

zuko walks over to them, disobeying his mother’s orders. he just doesn’t get why she would scold azula when she should know that she made azula feel as if she was crazy her whole life. shouldn’t she feel at least a little bit guilty for that? “i didn’t kill zhao,” he tells azula. “a giant spirit hand rose out of the ocean and dragged him down. i tried to help him but he wouldn’t take my hand. believe me or don’t. i don’t care.”

unfortunately, azula does believe him. because she knows her brother, and he cannot tell a lie to save his life. but this is a problem, because grandfather wants zuko out of the way, and without the precedent of treason, they have no good reason not to maintain his position as heir. but she’s always been good at thinking on her feet. “what if,” she proposes, “we work together to capture the avatar, but you take all the credit for it? then surely grandfather would be impressed enough with you that he wouldn’t mind giving you the throne. in return, all i ask is that when you’re firelord, you do everything i say, which is only fair because grandfather thinks i’d make a better ruler, and all my advice would be in your best interest anyway. do we have a deal?”

zuko doesn’t like the sound of being beholden to azula; he’s too proud for that. but he also wants his grandfather’s approval. there's also another issue... “i don’t know how i feel about capturing the avatar, to be honest,” zuko says. “at first i thought he was a scheming coward from a backwards culture, but he actually seems like a pretty good kid. maybe we could reason with him instead?”

azula resists the urge to smack her forehead. this kind of thinking is exactly why he shouldn’t be in charge of a fishing boat, let alone a global superpower. “were you born without balls?” she honestly can’t believe she’s related to him. (“language,” ursa warns.) “you know what, i feel bad even suggesting that we work together. clearly, grandfather was right about you, and if you dare set foot in the fire nation again we will have no choice but to convict you for the murder of that dumbass admiral guy. i mean personally i wish you did kill him, because it would be the only modicum of chutzpah you’d ever display in your pathetic little life, but of course you couldn’t even do that much. and mother, you can’t blame me for lack of trying. but i think you know as well as i do that your son is a lost cause. i’ll be going now. don’t try to contact me again.”

with that, azula walks away, and neither zuko nor ursa try to stop her. she finds mai and ty lee back in the woods by their mounts, damp and shivering and smelling unpleasantly of river water. this situation doesn’t stop ty lee from wrapping azula in a hug the moment she lays eyes upon her expression, poorly masked distress and red eyes threatening to spill over. azula just stands there, letting her clothes get wet.

“so............” says ursa. zuko stares at her. he knows she’s trying so hard not to say i told you so. instead she says, “ba sing se?” zuko reluctantly nods. so he’ll let azula take the throne while he hides in the earth kingdom like a coward. he’s fine with that! glad, even! his family is all kinds of fucked up. who needs them? not him! (he's always been a terrible liar.)

“i have some contacts who can help us get fake passports and tickets aboard the ferry,” ursa says. “i hope you know that this isn’t a dishonorable thing to do. there’s no shame in retreating from a bad situation before it gets worse.” zuko frowns. “like when you killed my father, you mean?” he asks. ursa nods. “something like that,” she agrees.

"i mean, honestly, zuko... do you even want to be firelord?" zuko scoffs. what is she even talking about? of course he wants to be firelord! it's been his birthright since uncle abdicated, he's been training for it since he was a child. it's honorable to perform one's duty by serving the most just and forward-thinking nation in the world. ursa sighs. "see, zuko, this is exactly what i'm talking about. do you even believe what you're saying right now?"

"okay, okay," zuko concedes, "so maybe great-grandfather sozin and grandfather azulon have been a little extreme in their views, but they needed to rule with a firm hand due to the pressures of the war and the power vacuum left by the disappearance of the avatar. now that he's back, i'm sure we can find negotiations with the other nations that satisfy everyone's needs, and–"

"oh my god. ZUKO. who do you think STARTED the war?" ursa all but yells. zuko pauses. he doesn't want to say something wrong. there are a lot of false starts, opening his mouth, and then promptly closing it, like the world's most thoughtful goldfish. when he finally does speak, he's quiet and to the point. "we did," he says.

ursa lets zuko grapple with this revelation all the way to ba sing se. some guy keeps trying to talk to him on the ferry but gives up after five minutes of realizing he's not paying attention, way too absorbed in his own thoughts and recontextualized memories. they walk through the lower ring, navigating the throng of refugees who have been displaced by the war. zuko doesn't know whether he wants to stay in this bubble forever, or if he's more determined than ever to assume the throne, and right the wrongs of his forefathers. all he knows for certain is that his mom managed to set them up with the coolest jobs he could ever hope for.

katara knows that ba sing se is a horrendous hyperstratified police state, but she's always been one to see the good in things, and ever since her fun little day at the spa with toph, she's been enjoying perusing the cultural resources ba sing se's upper ring has to offer. so she takes momo to a park, where he runs around chasing birds; she takes sokka to the library, where he complains that all their intelligence is outdated while she browses the romance section; she makes all of them go shopping with her, because they lost most of their stuff when appa was stolen, and she's sick of wearing the same outfit every single day; and she tries to cheer up aang as much as possible, which includes a matinee showing of some old earth kingdom play she's never actually heard of, but which got rave reviews in the ba sing se gazette.

during intermission (one of two, apparently this play is four and a half hours long???) katara whispers to aang, "is it just me, or does the lead actress look familiar?" aang is confused. "what do you mean by that? she's literally wearing a mask." katara shrugs. "i dunno..." she says, "i just get this creepy feeling like i've seen her before." they almost miss it, because they're jumping out of the seats by the time the play has finally ended, but thankfully katara remembers to look back when the cast members take their masks off, because holy shit she does know that woman.

aang and katara stealthily follow their marks, trailing behind a good distance while also making sure not to lose them in the crowd. it helps that aang has an aerial view. they finally end up in front of a lower ring apartment complex, where two of the most high-ranking members of the fire nation royal family are apparently.... living??? they're not exactly sure how to make their next move. aang offers that they wait for sokka to come up with a plan, since he'd know what to do, but katara is too impatient. she tells aang to wait outside, and that she'll signal to him if it's a trap, at which point he should get toph and sokka (she's fairly confident she can take a skinny dweeb and his mom on her own, but she doesn't want him getting his slimy fire nation hands on aang).

in a perhaps inadvisable move (since their landlord now expects her to pay for the damages), she kicks the door down, holding ice daggers in each hand. "all right, i'm onto you," she threatens the mother currently trying to pile more food onto the plate of her resisting son. "how did you infiltrate the city, and why are you here?"

zuko shrieks, and then realizes it's just the avatar's waterbender friend. "oh hey...........you." (it suddenly occurs to him that he never bothered to learn her name.) "what are you doing here?"

"that's none of your business," says katara, folding her arms. like she'd spill their secret invasion plan to the crown prince, or let it slip that appa is missing. yeah right. "well, it is kind of my business," replies zuko, "seeing as you're in our apartment." ursa hands her a fresh plate. "sit and eat with us. we can answer all your questions over dinner." katara complies with little fuss, since fire nation or not, she can't help but be charmed by any sort of maternal figure. not to mention she was enchanting in that play.

zuko and ursa explain to katara that they're laying low in ba sing se to avoid the wrath of his grandfather, who has declared him a traitor for helping the northern water tribe during the siege, and they actually quite like it here. ursa successfully auditioned her way into one of ba sing se's most elite theater troupes, and zuko was hired as assistant stage manager. they have no ulterior motive, zuko is just content to help his mother live out her lifelong dreams of becoming an actress, since he's currently too confused about everything to even know what stance he should be taking in this war anyway.

katara leaps at this. "what do you mean you're confused?" she asks. as much as sokka claims that zuko is the biggest idiot he's ever met (and that includes chong), katara can't help but harbor the mildest of soft spots for a guy whose best friend is clearly his mom. maybe this is her chance to finally Fix Him. "well," says zuko, "i always thought my role in this war and in the world was to help my grandfather and someday take over his role as firelord, but now it seems like my grandfather hates me, so i'm not really sure what to do about that. also you and the avatar seem really nice? but not your brother though, he's really mean and kinda terrifying. so... yeah. i'll probably just stay here with my mom."

katara's like, "okay, i totally get that, your mom seems dope, but what if, instead, you went full traitor and helped teach aang firebending? wouldn't that be fun? and don't worry about sokka, you can always just distract him with food or something shiny." and zuko's like, "suppose i agree to your offer, how am i even supposed to firebend in this city without getting arrested?" which is admittedly a pretty good point. but katara's like, "we'll be leaving eventually, and when we do, you can come with us and train aang then!"

zuko's torn, because on one hand he doesn't want to leave his mom, but on the other hand, being an official companion to the avatar seems like a more worthwhile use of time than assistant stage managing (even if it is really fun). ursa's also torn, because on one hand, her dearest wish has always been for her children to be able to lead normal, happy lives, but on the other hand, she thinks it might be good for zuko to finally make some friends his age, and on the other hand, she's not sure if those friends should be the anti-fire nation revolutionaries who are trying to kill his family? like, yes, sure, she's also killed his family, but it wasn't really a politics thing, it was far more personal than that. but zuko's always harbored lowkey treasonous political views, and she cares more about supporting her son's ambitions than she cares about whether or not the fire nation wins the war, if we're being completely honest. it's a real conundrum. ultimately, they're both just like, "we'll think about it," which is good enough for katara, who is convinced that anyone who thinks about it long enough will ultimately come to the obvious conclusion that it is far better to be Good than Bad.

so she leaves their apartment (struggling in a futile attempt to reset their door before finally giving up and leaning it against the wall for their landlord to fix), signals for aang to come down from the roof, and takes the monorail back to the upper ring, where she informs toph and sokka of the absolutely insane day she just had. sokka is immediately opposed to this idea. "you couldn't have found anyone else even slightly less annoying to teach aang firebending?? i really don't wanna spend more time around that guy than i've already been forced to." toph reminds them all that zuko didn't even actually agree to it. he said he'd think about it, which is the exact kind of thing you say to someone when you want them to leave you alone. sokka's like, "man i wish this was the end of it but if you think aang and katara aren't gonna follow up with him the next day and the day after that then you clearly do not know them well enough."

as it turns out, they don't have time to follow up with him the next day, because this is the day that katara runs into jet. (you really think that jet wouldn't find another way to cause a public scene protesting the inherent inequalities of the city, leading to his arrest by the dai li??? cmon now.) with his help, they make their way to lake laogai, where they free appa, but not before their frenemy's demise. they ride into the earth kingdom palace, mowing down countless dai li agents along the way, expose long feng's fraud, and inform the earth king of the reality of the war. all in a day's work.

they decide to go their separate ways for the time being: sokka to see his dad, aang to see guru pathik, toph to "see" her "mom," while katara stays in the city and "helps with the invasion" (ie, lets momo loose in an earth kingdom war room, uses king kuei's credit card to buy so many earrings, goes to see some more plays and then brag to the guy sitting next to her that she's friends with the lead actress). of course katara told sokka to go see their dad because she knows how much he misses him (and not at all because the thought of going to see her dad makes bile rise in her throat haha why would you even say that????), but she's also curious as to whether she can get to know zuko a little bit better in the meantime as well.

she shows up at his apartment and basically demands that they hang out. zuko has seen her waterbend, so like, what is he gonna do?? say no??? they have a very fun time wandering around the lower ring, sampling the food vendors, perusing the market stalls, getting lost in little winding alleyways. momo stayed behind with katara, and zuko is absolutely enchanted by him the entire night. it startles zuko to realize that he weirdly feels very close to katara, like they could’ve been best friends in another life. maybe they still have that opportunity. if he takes her up on her offer to join her group, then he can hang out with her (and momo!!!!) every day... but no, he couldn’t leave his mom, she’s done far too much for him for him to just abandon her...

he tries to communicate this sentiment to her, tries to tell her just how much his mom means to him. katara sighs. “i understand,” she says. “i’d give anything to be able to spend more time with my mom.” zuko stupidly asks where katara’s mom is now. katara very patiently explains. he’s shocked, so he asks a lot of follow-up questions, and katara is like “yes, finally, my opportunity to fully radicalize him!” and you know what? she does. and then she makes him buy her noodles even though she has the king’s all but unlimited purse and he only has the spare change he makes from his job as an assistant stage manager.

katara walks zuko home from their totally not a date and ursa invites her inside for dinner. katara is already extremely full from all the street food she ate, but she will not pass up the opportunity to eat food cooked by a mom. zuko’s mom, even. after dinner is over, ursa asks katara to help her with the dishes, and katara, who loves an excuse to show off her waterbending, happily agrees. sotto voce, ursa mentions to katara, as casually as she can, “look, you need to know something about zuko. i love my son very much, and nothing could ever change that, but.... he was born...... wrong. there’s nothing i could’ve done differently, so ive accepted it and protected him, but you should know that you’re not gonna get what you’re looking for from him.”

katara’s like, “what do you mean........ wrong?” frankly she has not met a more well-adjusted member of the fire nation. if he’s wrong, then what’s zhao??? ursa sighs. how is she gonna explain this to a wide-eyed teenage girl who has decided to pin all her hopes and dreams on her wonderful mistake of a son. ursa backtracks. “not, uh, wrong, per se, just different. he’s not.... normal.”

katara thinks about the fire nation’s standards for normality and decides that maybe that’s a good thing. ursa’s like “okay but just keep in mind what i said all right?” and katara nods with a wide, impassive smile and thanks her for dinner, the dishes all sparkling clean. she takes the monorail back to the apartment in the upper ring with a warm, tingly feeling in her heart and her hands.

ty lee walks into the lounge area where azula is reading a book on global trade sanctions during the yangchen era and mai is fast asleep. “i spied on zuko like you asked,” she says. “he was on a date with that water tribe girl. they were sooooo cute together.” she says that last part loudly and viciously enough to wake up mai, who simply blinks a few times before saying, “barf.” azula tries to hide how disturbed she feels upon hearing this. she knew that zuko was in the city with mother, pretending to be humble actors, she could tell as much from the single performance she had attended (and left during intermission). but befriending the water tribe peasant?? this was too much.

“i see,” she says. “clearly he needs our help.” in truth, she wants her family to come back home. grandfather is getting old, and despite the fact that her mother has been nothing but horrible to her, she still misses her, still wants her mother there for her inevitable coronation. and if she knows one thing to be true in this world, it’s that where zuko goes, ursa is sure to follow.

“he needs more than a little help,” ty lee agrees. “have you seen his hair?? that boy is due for a total makeover.” mai just rolls her eyes. she needs ty lee to stop acting like this. to just say what she really thinks for even one single second. ugh. whatever. she goes back to sleep. but azula does take ty lee’s words to heart. zuko’s hair is the shortest she’s ever seen it. it was already long by the time she was old enough to remember anything clearly. why is his hair short?

katara wakes up the next morning with an official summons from the kyoshi warriors to meet in the palace. she’s very excited. she doesn’t know suki all that well, but she respects her a lot, and is always happy to get to know her brother’s sort of girlfriend a little better. when she walks into the throne room, she sees three kyoshi warriors she doesn’t recognize sitting on the floor. “hey guys,” she says. it’s so hard to keep track of them with their matching facepaint. “where’s suki? isn’t she here with you?” the girl seated in the middle smiles. “suki is indisposed at the moment,” says a familiar, blood-chilling voice. “i’m afraid you’ll have to make do with us for now.” oh no.

katara draws her water, but ty lee has already backflipped behind her and blocked her chi, katara’s now useless weapon pooling around her as she lies helpless on the floor. she is completely defenseless as they throw her into an underground prison only an earthbender could escape from. elsewhere, aang gets a vision.

sokka is about to embark on his first actual mission with his father and prove himself as a warrior when he is interrupted by a bison and his boy. once again, he’s needed elsewhere. toph joins them on the way back. a dai li agent who doesn't trust the sudden regime change shows up at their apartment and informs them that katara is being held in the crystal catacombs under the city. sokka is torn between going with aang to rescue his sister or going with toph to save the earth king. as much as he wants to be there for katara, aang can master the avatar state now (or so he says), so he'll probably be fine on his own.

the avatar has been lured directly into azula's trap, and when he sees that the sheer number of dai li agents fighting alongside her are overpowering katara, aang has no choice but to go into the avatar state, which is when azula strikes. having successfully rescued the earth king (and bosco), sokka and toph fly on appa to meet katara, but it seems they are too late. aang is all but dead, and it is only when katara heals aang with her spirit water that he breathes once more. even then, he is barely conscious.

before they can go meet their dad and the rest of the southern water tribe fleet, katara knows she has one last pitstop to make. as she heads to the lower ring apartment, she pleads with the spirits that they'll be home. she really needs a win today. but when she opens the door to the apartment, the only people there are those horrible girls mai and ty lee.

"you!" she gasps. "what did you do with zuko?" mai looks characteristically bored as she responds. "we didn't do anything, azula came and told him that she killed the avatar, so he decided to go back to the fire nation. they left, like, an hour ago." katara is furious. "but she didn't kill aang! or, well, she did, but aang's– ugh! tell zuko to come back so i can punch him in the face!" mai rolls her eyes, but ty lee can tell that she's amused. "as much as i would like to see that," she says, "that's not in my control. so."

katara really wants to fight them, or anyone, really, but she has just enough sense to remember what happened every single time she's ever gone up against ty lee, so she leaves, slamming the (only recently-fixed) door so hard behind her that it breaks. she returns to appa alone with a silent shake of her head and tears streaming down her face. she spends the next few weeks tirelessly healing aang, pouring all her anger and frustration and and desperation into trying to get his eyes to open once more.

zuko is also on a fire nation ship, but not the one he spent the past few years on. he's finally heading back to the fire nation. now that his mission to capture and/or help the avatar is fruitless, he really has no other choice. looks like fate made that decision before he could. or well, azula did. he's not sure what happened to azula to turn her into a killer. it makes him feel somewhat guilty, for leaving. maybe she could've come with them, instead of being left behind with their scary grandpa. he's not looking forward to seeing azulon. how is he supposed to tell the most powerful man in the world that he disagrees with everything he's ever done in his life?

not to mention mai won't stop bothering him. he suspects azula has something to do with that too. mai keeps talking like the past three years never happened, and they can just pick back up where they left off, but zuko has changed so much lately. but as much as he tries to brush her off, she's always there. so he figures he may as well talk to her. she's hardly dumb, so maybe she can hear him out.

mai cannot stand all of zuko's borderline incoherent, flowery rants about "truth" and "justice." they're all "katara said" this, and "guru laghima said" that, and "then katara was like" oh my god SHUT UP ABOUT KATARA. mai obviously knew that azula and ty lee were lying when they were like, "i overheard zuko talking about how he has a crush on you, mai. you should totally talk to him," but she also knows that if she doesn't find a way to secure her position with him she will never live it down or be able to show her face in front of either of them again. so eventually she just gets fed up listening to him talk about how he and katara are totally, like, twin flames or whatever and just grabs his face and kisses him.

now this is zuko's first kiss (the date with jin never happened because ursa has more tact than iroh), so he kind of just freezes up and stands there, very still, long after it's over and mai has left the room, successful in her mission and once more bored and in need of a task. she lets him know that they're dating now and that he should bring her flowers, and zuko's just like "okay." he doesn't know how to feel about that. his first kiss. it felt... underwhelming? maybe if it had been set to a beautiful score, with better lighting, elaborate costumes... it was a very aesthetically mundane kiss. maybe that was the only the rehearsal though, and when they kiss again next time, it'll more romantic and elaborate.

zuko gets very in his own head about planning the perfect date so that he can stage the perfect (remedial) first kiss with mai. he brings her flowers, naturally. mai says, "thank you for the gift" and then drops them on the ground. zuko's like. "what??? did i bring you the wrong flowers???" he researched the flower symbolism and arrangement ahead of time so as to perfectly express this symbol of early love, developing feelings. mai's like, "oh, no, you did great, but i hate flowers." zuko has no idea what to say to that. she asked him to bring her flowers. mai's like "yeah but that didn't mean i wanted them." zuko asks mai what she does like, so that next time he can bring her that instead. she says, "knives," and then immediately follows up with, "but don't actually bring me knives. you'd be a bad boyfriend if you brought me knives. you're supposed to bring me flowers." zuko doesn't understand why he should go out of the way to bring flowers for someone who'll just throw them on the ground, but mai assures him that this is what good boyfriends do.

he resolutely continues the date he planned, even though it's clear that mai is not actually enjoying any of it. at the restaurant, she takes only the smallest bites of food, eating rice grain by grain. but every time he asks her if she wants to take it back to the kitchen and get something else, she assures him that she likes it and intends to finish it. they take a walk through a park at night, lanterns glimmering over the black water, and mai can't help but comment on what a cliche this romantic moonlit stroll is. zuko's like, "oh.... uh..... i think it's nice...." and mai's like, "of course it's nice. i love it." dessert is eaten on a picnic on a cliffside looking out at the full moon. mai comments on how full the moon is, but in a tone of voice that implies that she's fatshaming it. zuko blithely ignores her comment. once they finish their respective fruit tarts, zuko decides that this is the perfect moment to kiss mai again, this time with him in control so that it won't be all chaotic and boring like mai is. he still feels vaguely underwhelmed by the kiss, but this time he reassures himself that it's because he was kissing something he doesn't really like all that much, and not because the setting and ambiance and mood was off.

mai goes home extremely pleased with herself. if she has to date the crown prince to please azula, her parents, and whoever else gets their sick kicks from enforcing the heteropatriarchy, she'll at least troll everyone in the process.

meanwhile, ursa is adjusting to life back in the palace. zuko keeps remarking that he didn't remember the fire nation palace being so...... big and, like, foreboding. was it always this miserable here? ursa chuckles darkly. "believe it or not, it used to be a whole lot worse." zuko suddenly recalls the stories she told him in a barn in the middle of the night. he understands why she never told azula the truth.

it's weird. azula seems to actively be seeking ursa out, but she can't seem to go five seconds before picking a fight with her. ursa doesn't know how to communicate with azula. she never did. she assumes azula wants affection, but the more affection she shows her, the more azula pushes her away. but when she rises to azula's bait, azula says, "you haven't been here in over three years and now you want to criticize me???" eventually ursa just resigns herself into accepting that all fourteen year old girls are like this with their mothers; god knows she was, and she didn't even have to deal with being royalty.

aang wakes up, slowly but surely, and he isn't happy just spending his days on a fire nation ship. sokka assures him that this is the safest way for them to plan for the invasion, but aang can't take it. he let the world down. again. there's another storm at sea. this time, he washes ashore on a semi-active volcano. they find him, and from then on, they're hiding out in the fire nation until the invasion. they don disguises. aang goes to a fire nation school, and throws his classmates a secret dance party. katara impersonates a spirit and blows up a factory. sokka finds a master and forges a sword. they scam some people, fight some people, plan for the invasion. all pretty on-brand shenanigans.

azula is even more on-edge than usual. if she doesn't orchestrate this invasion counterattack perfectly, who knows what could happen. what matters most is that the avatar is really dead. she finds the perfect assassin to make sure of it. if the avatar is still alive, he won't be for much longer.

meanwhile zuko is so. bored. he thought being back in the fire nation, celebrated as a hero for finally killing the avatar (not that he actually did that, but y'know. everyone seemed to take azula's word for it, and it's not like he can expose her lie) would mean that he got to make more political decisions, but azulon still seems to treat him like he's some naive child. he traveled the world, he slew the avatar (allegedly), he has a goth gf! he's a man!!! but instead of letting him into important war councils, he's sending him off to ember island to go play kuai ball like he's some fucking kid. his only consolation is that azula's forced to go with him too, and she doesn't seem bothered with it, so maybe it's not a big deal.

it still sucks though. not only does zuko have to spend an entire weekend without his mom, but he has to put up with his annoying ass little sister and her annoying ass little friends, one of whom he is apparently dating, even though all she does is make fun of him to his face. no matter what he does there's no winning with her. she only seems remotely happy with him once he finally gets frustrated enough to dump her, but then five seconds later she's like, "okay i forgive you let's get back together," and he's like, "what??" she is dedicating her life to the bit, but he is the world's worst improv partner he is giving her nothing. ty lee wishes she could just sit there and enjoy the show but unfortunately she has to teach azula how to talk like a human. apparently azula spent all her time learning how to talk to generals, and never learned how to flirt with their dumb as bricks hot sons. they return to the capital and zuko goes to ursa and is like, "i don't know why you insisted that it would be good for me to make friends my age, teenagers fucking suck."

azulon finally lets him into a meeting, though not without azula milking those mindgames for all they're worth just to see if zuko's cheeks will puff up and he'll stomp his feet and clench his fists when he yells at her. he's so dramatic, it's hilarious. mai is waiting for him by the door when they file out of the war room. she asks him how the meeting went, and he stares into the distance and mumbles something inarticulate under his breath that sounds very much like a profound soliloquy, just based on like, the cadence and the meter. for all his enthusiasm for theater, zuko clearly never learned how to enunciate, so mai has no idea what he said. she just pulls her cheeks back into a thin-lipped smile and says, "sounds good, zuko."

zuko takes a day trip on his war balloon to the southern fire nation, and more specifically, a certain tea shop he had to beg his mother for the address to. at first, iroh thinks he is hallucinating the ghost of his dead son, or perhaps his dead brother, but then he realizes that it's just been six years since he'd last seen his nephew. he can replace that shattered teapot anyway.

iroh pours zuko tea as zuko tells him about how he spent the past six years. iroh is fascinated to hear of his travels, especially of meeting the avatar and his water tribe companions (and flying bison and lemur). he tells zuko that he's been living a humble life serving his community through teamaking and hosting pai sho game nights. of course, that's not the full truth, since he does receive frequent letters from the order of the white lotus, but zuko doesn't need to know that.

finally, zuko asks iroh what he came all this way to ask: "why don't you want to be firelord? you would have so much power to help people. don't you have a responsibility to use that power?" he could've stayed in ba sing se, safe behind the walls, but he knew it wasn't right. why doesn't his uncle? iroh sighs. "look, prince zuko. this may be difficult for you to understand, but i have caused a lot of harm in my past, and i am ashamed of what i have done. here, i don't have to worry about hurting anyone. tea may be a small joy, but it makes people happy. i would rather spend my life not harming anyone than having all the power in the world, even if it means helping the 'greater good.' this was the way of the air nomads, and i believe that if everyone adopted this practice, the world would be a better place." he places his lotus tile in the center of the board, beating zuko by a hair. with their tea drained and their pai sho game over (5 - 0), zuko hugs iroh goodbye and heads back to his war balloon with the promise to see iroh again soon. there are tears in iroh's eyes as zuko leaves.

the day of black sun is finally upon them, and everyone is prepared to meet their destiny. zuko remembers to scrawl a hasty letter to mai before removing his armor and undoing his topknot. where he's going, he won't need these hollow signifiers. while azula is distracting sokka, aang, and toph, zuko walks into azulon's throne room, swords in hand. he calmly tells his grandfather that he can no longer belong to such a cruel and violent system. there is no changing it from the inside, so he's leaving. oh, and also, he didn't kill the avatar. azula lied about that. he wasn't sure that he was alive until now, but turns out the avatar is part of the invasion force, so good luck with that. azulon is so shocked he actually passes out.

zuko runs to his mother's chambers to let her know of his somewhat sudden change of plan, only he can't find her anywhere. on second thought, he probably should've told her ahead of time. now he has no clue where she is and he needs to leave soon if he wants to follow the avatar. also, it's probably for the best if she stays behind with azula anyway. he leaves a note on her dresser and rushes to his war balloon, right in time to pursue their flying bison.

none of them want to talk about what just happened. the invasion should've gone perfectly, but instead it was a colossal failure. sokka suggests that they still have time to stick to the old plan, teach aang firebending in time for sozin's comet. zuko, who managed to sneak up on them with their backs turned (minus toph), offers his services. before he can even finish waving awkwardly, katara has nearly speared him 20 times, and it's only with aang and sokka holding her arms back that her ice doesn't penetrate his flesh and instead just melts midair and splashes on top of him just someone dropped a freezing bucket on his head, the force of which knocks him over.

zuko slips and slides a little before finally righting himself and repeating his little speech. "i can teach firebending. to you." he tells aang, while trying not to shrivel under the weight of katara's glare. aang's like, "yeah, i don't think that's a good idea. you should probably leave before our muscles give out and we can no longer hold katara back." he takes one look at katara, who is frothing at the mouth ready to rip zuko into a million little pieces, and is like, "yeah okay."

toph tells them that they're being idiots. they need a firebending teacher, but apparently the guy who offers to teach them firebending isn't good enough because he ghosted katara or something? after katara has tired herself out of yelling to toph about all the ways in which he betrayed her, and then sokka tacks on that toph wasn't there, she hasn't actually witnessed zuko's bad vibes firsthand (which conflicts katara because on one hand, she quite likes zuko's vibes, but on the other hand, she wants to murder him), toph calls them blind and stomps away.

zuko is having one of his typical nightmares when he's interrupted by a little green child he only vaguely recognizes. he is not fully lucid upon hearing her, so his instinct, to shoot fire at her, proves to be a disastrous mistake. toph crawls all the way back to camp with burned feet. hurting katara emotionally was one thing (as protective of katara as sokka is, he also recognizes that katara does often set herself up to get hurt emotionally), but hurting toph physically is another. toph assures the furious siblings that she startled zuko, and it was an accident, but to katara it's just fuel for the flames, and to sokka it's the worst thing anyone could do. absolutely no way are they letting that violent clown anywhere near their friends.

then who shows up but combustion man. they can't run from him anymore, not if they want to preserve what's left of the western air temple. zuko runs right up to his face. "my sister hired you, right??? well i can pay you double to stop!!!!" he doesn't listen, for some reason. (maybe it's a matter of pride?) he shoves zuko aside with one extremely large hand. it's like picking up a kitten. it's impossible to fight this guy head-on. but sokka throws his boomerang square in his third eye, which results in him blowing himself up, and zuko too. almost.

aang has no choice but to thank zuko. even though sokka was the one to kill him, hello???? but, it was noble of zuko to attempt to save them. katara is tempted to suggest that it was all staged to make him seem heroic, but then thinks better of it. no one is that insane. he launches into a (far more coherent) speech (now that he's not at risk of developing hypothermia), and gives them the full explanation of why he made the choices he did, and what made him change his mind. zuko then apologizes to toph for burning her feet. he acknowledges the destructive nature of firebending, but that he only wants to use firebending to heal and help people from now on. this promise shifts something in aang. maybe zuko does need to be his firebending teacher.

he asks toph what she thinks, and of course toph is all for it. she knows a sincere apology when she hears one, and besides, zuko seems like an all right guy to her. sokka acquiesces that aang does need a firebending teacher, so he'll do whatever it takes to win the war, even if it means putting up with this absolute schmuck. katara glares at zuko while admitting through gritted teeth that she trusts aang's decision.

sokka shows zuko to his room and zuko is so grateful and happy so sokka tries to be polite, but afterwards he goes to aang and is like "okay it is literally so hard to be nice to that guy." katara shows up in zuko's doorway the second he's done setting up a photo of his mom by his bed and she threatens him so terrifyingly he nearly blacks out. since he hasn't eaten all day, his hunger wins out over his fear of katara and he joins them for dinner, where he finds out that three other people he's never seen before in his life are also staying here?? before he can properly introduce himself, sokka's just like "zuko, meet haru, teo, and the duke. guys, meet zuko, he's the piece of shit i was telling you about who's gonna teach aang firebending." zuko's just like, "...............................hello?"

zuko excuses himself from dinner early. he was already scared of sokka from the moment he met him, and that was before he watched him kill combustion man with a boomerang. now he also has reason to be terrified of katara. he burned their friend's feet. things are still pretty awkward with the avatar. and there are three other teenage boys here too. is it too late to go work in his uncle's teashop and avoid all his responsibilities?

the next day, zuko does some pretty weak firebending demonstrations for aang. frankly, firebending has always been one of his weakest skills. aang claps politely, but zuko feels like a fool. but then he remembers something iroh said during his visit, that everything he learned about true firebending could be found at the sun warriors' temple. aang's like, "aren't they all gone?" but zuko just shrugs. he trusts uncle iroh.

katara accuses zuko of wanting to take aang to secondary location so that he can drug and kill and possibly torture and even eat him, but aang's like, "no, katara, zuko is many things, but he's not a liar. plus i'm pretty sure i can take him lol i mean look at how skinny he is a gust of wind could knock him over." this gets katara to smile. "you're right, aang," she agrees, "i trust you." zuko is just standing there like, "okay well first of all that was really rude. also i'm not a cannibal??"

they come back a few days later with a fire nation dance locked and loaded. katara and sokka have a lot to say about it, but eventually zuko relaxes upon realizing that them gently homophobically bullying him is actually far preferable to them talking about how they would murder him. with aang now fully onboard the zuko train, it's easier for everyone else to integrate him into the group. toph, teo, haru, and the duke (not that zuko actually remembers any of their names) all treat him like he's any other friend, katara limits her dislike to mean jokes at his expense, and sokka is pretty quiet and withdrawn in general.

one night, sokka pulls zuko aside. zuko tries to mask his terror as he oh so casually asks, "so what's up?" sokka asks him where high ranking prisoners of war would be held, and zuko is forced to tell him once sokka admits that he wants to know about his dad. of course he's also aware that this means that sokka will not rest until he has found his father, so zuko ambushes him as he attempts to sneak off. sokka's like, "look, no offense, but even if i did let you come, you'd only slow me down. i don't need some useless imbecile getting me caught." zuko's like, "okay, well, offense taken, also you need a firebender to operate a war balloon and that's your only viable mode of transportation." sokka points out that actually that isn't true, he did quite literally invent the mechanism that allows war balloons to fly, and zuko's just like, "oh my god what the fuck nooooo" and "how is that even possible????" but then he says, "if you don't let me help you i'll literally kill myself right now and then you'll have to explain to aang why his new firebending teacher is dead. my blood will be on your hands." he's fully bluffing, but sokka isn't willing to take his chances (mostly because killing himself just to spite someone else has always lowkey been his fantasy). sokka is like, "well your blood will be on my hands either way but whatever it's your funeral" and zuko's like, "what?" and sokka's like "what?" and off they go.

they return with suki, hakoda, and chit sang, sokka now of the opinion that zuko is somewhat tolerable. what he lacks in brains he makes up for in bravery and extreme sincerity. azula shows up to the temple a while later with a crazed look in her eye that does not bode well. zuko, mai, and ty lee all betrayed her. her mother has disappeared god knows where. azulon's health is failing but it's clear he doesn't want her to succeed him now that he knows she lied to him to bring zuko back. he keeps asking for iroh. azula doesn't know what to do. all she can hope for is that if she kills the avatar and zuko for good then maybe grandfather will be able to forgive her before he dies. of course it can never be that easy.

the gaang celebrates another near escape, but katara sees nothing to celebrate. even sokka accepts zuko now. how is he of all people not on her side about this?! zuko goes to confront katara. he doesn't understand why she won't just trust him. she reminds him that she was the first person to trust him, to offer him a spot in their group. and he abandoned her, betrayed her trust. he asks what he can do to make it up to her. she snarls, "oh, i don't know, maybe you can bring my mother back!"

zuko doesn't really know what to do with that, since she told him what happened to her mother. zuko barges into sokka's tent without a second thought and asks him what the flag emblem on the ships that raided them that day looked like. sokka tells him, as quickly as possible, so that he'll leave him the fuck alone. zuko waits outside katara's tent all night to share this information with her. they go track yon rha down, despite aang and sokka's concerns.

katara returns with a newfound understanding of herself, of her own humanity. of how to let go of the stories she told herself to survive, and instead better appreciate what's real, even when it's not pretty. she understands zuko better now too. she hugs him, and from that moment onwards, they are best friends.

they travel to ember island, where they spend their remaining days until sozin's comet. from his deathbed, azulon tells his granddaughter that she can't be trusted with the plan – her plan – to burn the earth kingdom to the ground. instead he'll send a delegation of generals on their airship fleet. he wants to keep her close, in the palace, where he won't have to worry about her screwing things up. guards follow her everywhere. no matter what she does or where she goes, she knows there are eyes on her, watching for any signs of further betrayal. she's a glorified prisoner, having to pretend she doesn't notice. needless to say, this situation is terrible for her already rapidly declining mental health.

informed of the plan to raze the earth kingdom, aang isn't sure what to do. zuko reminds him that azulon is in his final years, but azula is next in line to take the throne. aang isn't sure what's worse, having to kill an old man or a teenager. zuko reminds aang that this "old man" is responsible for the decimation of the southern water tribe and occupation of the earth kingdom. aang doesn't like being talked down to as if he doesn't already know that, so he leaves the room. he needs to be alone, to meditate and reflect on what impossible choice he must make next.

the next morning, aang is missing. they can't find him anywhere; they even search the entire island, but despite the fact that his glider is still in the house, he's gone. zuko takes them to june the bounty hunter to track him down, but she informs them that he's disappeared. for all intents and purposes, he doesn't exist. zuko refuses to lose hope. he gives june his mother's shawl. sokka's like "you just take that with you.... everywhere you go?" but katara and toph are like "awww no it's sweet shut up." she leads them just outside the outer wall of ba sing se.

they make camp there for the night, but are awoken by four old masters. they lead them inside the white lotus camp grounds, where it turns out that iroh, ursa, and about an eighth of zuko's former crew have been living since the day of black sun. as it turns out, ursa received a letter from iroh after zuko visited him, cryptically instructing her to meet him on the outer wall of ba sing se on the day of the invasion. zuko asks his mom why she didn't take him or azula with her, but ursa admits that she didn't know where they were and she didn't have time to find them. she could only hope they would remain safe in her absence.

katara is shocked. "you've been a member of the white lotus the entire time???" she asks ursa. she informs her that actually, she just joined in an official capacity. she kept regular correspondence with iroh, but she wasn't herself a member. then he invited her to participate in their mission to take back ba sing se for the earth kingdom. ursa has vital information on the city that was integral to their plans, being the only member of the organization who's actually lived there and all. besides, they could use another firebender, especially if they plan on striking during sozin's comet.

zuko is, of course, overjoyed to see his mother again, but he admits that he's worried about azula. they've left her behind in the palace once again, but this time she doesn't have mai and ty lee to rely on, and she's fallen out of their grandfather's good graces. they devise a plan. sokka, suki, and toph will take down the airship fleet, while zuko and katara go to the palace. they have to be careful. the palace is filled with guards, and they don't want to fight any more people than they have to. they find azula, sitting alone in her room with scissors in her hand and clumps of hair on the floor.

"what are you doing?" zuko asks. "is it not obvious?" azula retorts. "i'm giving myself a royal haircut. i have to look good for my coronation after all. any day now, grandfather will take his last breath, and i will become firelord. it's a shame that it has to happen after sozin's comet, since i would have done an excellent job of burning the earth kingdom to the ground, but no matter, i'm sure the generals will do a fine job as well. grandfather wants me by his side in his final days, you see. i find the sentiment a bit maudlin, but he is dying, so i can forgive him this." her words are slightly slurred as she rambles.

zuko merely scoffs. "you're not going to become firelord," he says. azula laughs, high and manic. "oh, you think you're going to become firelord? after you disgraced our nation by joining the avatar? you're hilarious." katara readies her water. "and you're going down," she snaps back. they get into fighting stances, but zuko puts his hand out. "wait, no," he says. "i don't wanna be firelord." all the fight is knocked out of azula out of sheer surprise. "but didn't you always say it was your destiny?" she asked. "i spent our whole lives trying to convince you not to be firelord and suddenly... you agree?" zuko nods. "yeah pretty much."

but suddenly another problem presents itself. who will take the throne? katara suggests ursa, but azula shakes her head. "she would never agree to it. she hates it here." same goes for iroh. "what about you?" zuko asks. "could you do it?" katara laughs. then she realizes he's serious. then she laughs even harder. "or sokka? sokka could be good." katara's like, "i know, let's get momo to be firelord. we can make him a little cape and crown." she's obviously being sarcastic, but zuko, who adores momo, puts his hand on his heart as he says, "i can think of no one worthier." meanwhile azula's like, "who the hell is momo?"

they explain to azula that momo is their pet flying lemur, and azula's just like, "you know what? fuck it. that's hilarious. i don't even care anymore. life's just a waste of time until you die anyway, right? so what the hell." katara and zuko exchange a look. gently, zuko asks, "um.... azula? do you wanna talk about it?"

by the time everyone else gets back to the palace (sokka with a broken leg, but everyone else relatively unscathed), zuko and katara are just like, "oh, good, you're all alive. and on our end, azula is taking a nap. yeah she cried so hard she eventually passed out. but now she's sleeping soundly :)"

ursa goes to check on azula, who is curled up in bed with her hair in a braid and a cup of half-finished tea on her bedside table. she decides not to disturb her daughter while she's resting. whatever conversation they should have can wait for tomorrow. then she goes to azulon's room, where he's slowly dying. she decides to speed up the process. meanwhile, zuko and katara inform their friends that they've decided that they're going to crown momo as the next firelord. aang, sokka, toph, and suki are all ecstatic. this the best possible outcome. (the only objector is appa, who maintains that he would do a better job, but his roar of indignation sounds a lot like his roar of agreement, so everyone just assumes that he's happy for his friend's new promotion.)

#callmeshei #asks #AUs #ursa #zuko #azula #katara #momo #ursa&zuko #azula&ursa #katara&zuko #momo&zuko #not tagging everyone else #there are the Main Characters #sorry for zutaracoding this btw. its platonic i prommy #i cant believe i wrote SO MUCH for this stupid fucking ask that required i crown momo firelord at the end #this literally took me months to write #i need to get it together!!!!!!!!!! #its ok tho there are enough sentences in this that i find funny that it was worth it #now watch no one read it.......... #outlines #sort of? #idk. girl

[warcorrespondence]

You've probably seen that post that goes around, you know the one: It's all fun and games in hbowar until you want to see two women have a conversation.

Well, @mercurygray/mercurygray set out to fix that. The Darkening Sky is full of women having conversations about real things.

fandom: band of brothers

pairing: Dick Winters/OC

mature, 220612 words

This epic asks the question: what would it be like if women went to war with Easy Company? No, but really though?

There are a lot of OCs, and a personal challenge I have with reading OCs is that I already love the canon characters. So for me, OCs have more work to do in fanfic than they do in novels, because they have to shoulder aside my blorbos. (This is me - there are a lot of OC writers and readers in this fandom and bravo to you all! I’m simply explaining a barrier I have). 

But fairly quickly, they established themselves, and over not too long a time, I grew to love them.

The main relationship is between Joan Warren, niece of General Pershing and society gal of Nixon’s ilk, and Dick Winters - she’s flirtier than he is, and more outspoken, but just as driven and in essence just as private. It takes them A WHILE to get going, because it would - these are two serious people with serious things to do, and they take love seriously too.

And all right, I’m just going to put it out there - was it a challenge, as a card-carrying winnix girlie, to hop on board that train? 

…not really? 

It helps that Nix ships it (which, like everything here, is shown and not told, and with delightful subtlety). It helps that Joan is awesome, a fully-fleshed out character with flaws and frustrations, narrative drive as well as personal drive. It helps that this is just another world where the Nix-Dick friendship didn’t develop that way, from Toccoa onward. There is no "We'll go to Chicago, I’ll take you there." It’s not what happens. 

(This fic also doesn't straightwash - there's not a ton of focus on m/m or f/f relationships, but they're there).

But Joan and Dick, much as I love to read about them, are not the only focus of the story. POV shifts all the time, sometimes to Shifty, sometimes to minor characters like Aldbourne residents or land girls, and we get an idea of what the war is like for them, as well as their perspective on Easy Company in all its camaraderie and complexity. 

It probably goes without saying that in a fandom full of heavily researched fics, Merc’s stands out as being the most meticulous. She knows her shit, and I knew that going in. But there’s a difference between throwing in facts and details for the sake of it, and doing it to further the experience of the reader. I felt like I learned things, but never like I was being taken to school - when I learned something it was because I was gaining context about a beloved character or understanding more about how the world would work for women in these circumstances. And they don't all have the same experience! Life for Lieutenant Joan Warren, reluctant media darling, is very different than it is for Sergeants Billie Mitchell or Marj Gordon (just to name a couple of my favorites).

These women never stop being women, and being treated that way, for better or worse (often worse). And there's something heartbreakingly frustrating but also beautiful about that.

Marj’s new haircut looked good on her - Doris wasn’t proud of a whole lot, these days, but any time she caught sight of Marj with her helmet off she had to smile. I did that. And she looks damn good. Marj’s honey-colored pageboy was starting to get a little long at the edges, but only enough to make Doris regret not bringing her scissors so she could do everyone else’s. Her fellow sergeant looked…free, without the hair, released from some burden of responsibility to look like she belonged somewhere else and might well be there soon. Why didn’t we do that earlier? Doris wondered to herself. It’s a war, not a beauty pageant. We’re not winning awards.  Because we’re still women, and we still want beauty. Because it’s hard to change something like that.  Because we all want to go right back to the way it was when this is over - even if we know we can’t. The way it was. The phrase made Doris want to laugh. They weren’t those women and men any more, the kids who’d arrived at Toccoa, and it was foolish to think they might be. Look at any of them, bruised and scarred - look at Marj! And even if they hadn’t changed, the people at home would have. (Look at Marj, again - and fuck Allen, while they were looking.)

#band of brothers #nikkirecs #200k-250k words #dick/oc

[forestmossling]

as has been previously established (or hasn’t? if not, that’s just crazy, this is a fundamental part of my personality) i am an unhinged crossover slut. i just love and enjoy crossovers, even between the most far-fetched and unmatchable fandoms possible, an incredible amount.

and a while ago i had this idea of teen wolf/stranger things crossover (which i obviously never followed up on because i never finish my projects) because their settings just vibe with each other. i thought about older steddie moving from hawkins to beacon hills for a break from all the supernatural stuff (*laughing evilly*), eddie becoming an english literature teacher and steve becoming a counselor in their high school while also helping out the lacrosse team. and danny, as he is wont to do, gets the hots for steve and actually comes onto him, because steve is a young teacher still and danny has bad experiences with older men not caring about his age as long as he’s down to get laid. and obviously steve is terrified and calls eddie immediately because he admittedly can handle this better, considering his own experiences with driving out to indy for questionable hook-ups with older guys while he was still in high school. and at first danny’s like “omg it’s so dumb why are they making such a huge deal out of this” and also pretty embarrassed about the whole situation, but soon steddie become his pillar of support, because they’re two older queer guys!! married!! literally teaching in his school!! (although he never openly admits how much this means to him). but since steve is more of a kindred spirit to him, he comes to him for advice and just to bitch about shit from time to time and steve basically takes him under his wing like he did to the party.

and then there’s stiles (yes, this is a danny/stiles scenario. you can take this ship out of my cold, dead hands, they’re my favorite in tw) who is absolutely obsessed with his new eng lit teacher who is open about also being adhd, is also an absolute nerd while somehow still being undeniably cool, and who doesn’t get angry at his dumb questions in class or snap at him for getting distracted, so he’s got a little bit of hero worship going on. and then there’s eddie, who can sniff a lost sheepie from a mile away and can see how isolated stiles is aside from being friends with scott, so he keeps an eye on him and gets caught up in increasingly weird but incredibly interesting conversations with him after class and privately hopes to corrupt him into getting into dnd. and then he notices the way stiles stares at danny in his class without seemingly even realizing it, or watches him say the dumbest shit to danny trying to get his attention, and immediately goes “boy, do i know the feeling”.

so obviously he tells steve and they hatch a plan to get danny and stiles together, because stiles is such a good boy and maybe dating him would finally stop danny from going out with very questionable older people, and danny seems begrudgingly amused with stiles’s antics anyway, so maybe there’s something there, and their whole dynamic just reminds steve and eddie so much of themselves, makes them think of what they could have been, if they had gotten their shit together earlier, so obviously they can’t just do nothing about it.

and then steddie get dragged into the whole supernatural bullshit (because of course they do), and steve takes out his trusty nail bat. everyone just keeps thinking like “who the hell are these guys and why are they in any way involved in this??” and stiles and danny seriously reconsider their matching scars.

#wouldn’t it be super cool tho?? #or maybe it’s just me #god does it feel weird to remember my tw days #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #teacher steve harrington #well more like #high school counselor steve harrington #but that’s not a tag #teacher eddie munson #danny mahealani #god but how i love danny mahealani #stiles stilinski #danny x stiles #i really need more danny x stiles content they’re so wholesome #stranger things #teen wolf #crossover #fic prompt #steddie fic prompt #stranger things fic #teen wolf fic #get steve harrington to be loved and appreciated agenda #but just consider the way danny x stiles mirror steddie’s dynamic #i will die on danny x stiles hill #it will be a lonely death #but it will be worth it #steddie is just cursed to adopt kids wherever they go

[causeitsagame]

UNTITLED ANGSTPROMPT THE FOURTH (OF FOUR)

(At some point, I will find a real title and put it up on AO3. Watch this space!)

My thought when posting the previous chapter: "I don't want to draw out a resolution too far, so I'll promise that there is only one more chapter to go." Me, finishing this chapter while upholding that intention and seeing it brush the 9k word mark: "Well,"

-----

Hajime didn't know what to do.

That wasn't supposed to be possible. He'd been warped and molded and repurposed into the world's Ultimate Goddamn Hope, and that Hope was supposed to have all the answers. But he didn't. He hadn't been able to stop the assault on Jabberwock, and the desperate sacrifice play there had been made by someone else.

Plus, he hadn't even known that particular sacrifice could happen. Talents could only be studied if they were demonstrated, and this wasn't the sort of thing that got shown off to Hope's Peak. And so now, Fuyuhiko was bruised and beaten and hollowed out, and Peko didn't know anything more about how those memories were lost, and Hajime didn't know what to do.

He leaned against the ship's railing and studied the water, unsure of what he was looking for.

Eventually, a voice spoke up. "Hajime?"

He glanced over his shoulder at Ryota. "Yeah?"

Ryota pointed to an insulated travel mug. "It's time for this, again. Do you want to…?" He was the one on the ship who wasn't taken much aback by Fuyuhiko not recognizing him, and he'd made fully half of the infirmary visits so far.

Hajime shook his head. Inside that mug was broth from a pot that Teruteru kept simmering. The calories were important; the warmth, more so. Due to injuries, malnutrition, and low weight, Mikan had diagnosed poikilothermia, or an inability to regulate body temperature. She planned to be in the infirmary constantly until it resolved, and that was a good enough excuse not to be there himself. "No. Thanks."

It probably made him a despicable coward, but he couldn't see Fuyuhiko's condition and know that he was responsible for it. He couldn't watch Fuyuhiko look at him like a total stranger and know that it was because Fuyuhiko had cared more about Hajime than about himself. If Hajime had an idea of what to do next, he'd face down all of that in service of getting it fixed… but he didn't know what to do.

Hajime shook his head again, and Ryota silently walked away.

Memories had been burnt away in torture's incinerator and he was the motivation behind it all. How was he supposed to handle that? Seriously, how in the hell was he supposed to manage his thoughts, his emotions? The gutpunch of nausea that gripped him every time his imagination wandered to the infirmary?

Memory loss aside, this wasn't like Izuru. Fuyuhiko hadn't been scoured away and turned into someone else. Logically, that was a huge relief; emotionally, it somehow made it worse. He was still totally him, voice and expressions and powerful personality. There wasn't anyone to identify and retrieve. He was Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu, the same as ever… but he just had absolutely no idea who Hajime was.

There were always more tasks to handle on the ship, but no one bothered Hajime as he looked over the edge. He stayed there staring over the water as the sun's reflections moved overhead, and then toward the west.

"Hajime?"

The voice behind him sent a spike of adrenaline rushing. "Is everything okay?"

Mikan nodded, seemingly without any emergency coming along with her. "He's doing better today, I think. But I just… I'm sorry, but I've been with him for twenty-two hours, now. Could you maybe—"

"Oh, God, sorry," Hajime interrupted as he caught up. Now that he bothered to pay attention to anything besides his own misery, he could notice the dark circles under Mikan's eyes and the way her fingertips trembled from exhaustion. He hadn't set foot in the infirmary since the last time she'd taken a sleeping break, and so he hadn't realized how long that'd been.

"No, I'm sorry!" she instantly countered, and held up one of her shaking hands. "I shouldn't need to sleep, but I just nearly dropped a—"

"I've got him," Hajime promised Mikan, and clutched that hand. "Go rest."

She nodded. "I'm only doing a few hours at a time, so I'll be back soon!"

"That's…" Sighing, Hajime let her go. It was probably no use ordering her to look after herself with more than a nap here and there. Well. Time to check on Fuyuhiko.

Peko was waiting outside the infirmary door, and looked as tired as Mikan but far more composed. "You did come," she said with mild surprise.

That hadn't been judgment, but it sure felt like it. "Yeah. Sorry." Hajime ran a hand across his face. "It's just been hard."

"I can only imagine," Peko agreed, with what sounded like real sympathy.

"You look like you could use some sleep, too. I'll be here, if you want to go."

Peko hesitated, but nodded gratefully and stepped away. She turned to look over her shoulder as she left, like she was verifying that Hajime would actually manage to set foot inside the infirmary.

He did so before he could lose his nerve, and was relieved to see Fuyuhiko sleeping. Good. No conversation, no lack of recognition.

First, Hajime reached for a thermometer and aimed it at Fuyuhiko's forehead. Cooler than he should be, so it was no wonder his fists were clenched around a blanket that couldn't keep him warm enough. Hajime reached over and tapped a message window, calling for more hot broth from the galley.

Fuyuhiko was watching him when he turned back.

Hajime jolted, and took a step away before he could help himself.

"So," Fuyuhiko said wryly, and tilted his head toward where his chart hung on the wall. "The guy responsible for all of that." To Mikan's dismay, she'd run out of room when she started listing his injuries. She'd needed to add multiple pages.

Swallowing, Hajime said in a thick, heavy voice, "Yeah. Guess so."

"You never told me why I apparently gave so much of a shit about you. And neither will anyone else." What good humor was in Fuyuhiko's expression flattened into nothing. "You'd think I could get a simple question answered, after everything."

"We…" Hajime looked away. "I'm your best friend." That was the simplest answer.

"Bullshit. I don't have friends."

"Yeah. That's what you told me." It was easier to talk if he didn't meet Fuyuhiko's gaze, and so Hajime kept his attention on the wild landscape beyond the portholes. "But after everything, we were friends. And you realized Peko was actually your friend, too, outside of the clan. And there are other friends here, too. We all care about you."

"'After everything?' After what 'everything?'" Annoyed, Fuyuhiko snapped, "Mind looking at me when I'm talking to you?"

Miserable, Hajime turned back toward Fuyuhiko and the nearly countless injuries he'd taken for Hajime's sake. "After getting away from the… the bad things that you remember. We're all together after that, and we're your friends."

"And you're my 'best friend.'"

"Yeah."

"Who I did this for." Fuyuhiko lifted a forearm, showing off what remained of intricate tattoos. They were marred by a twisted burn scar and jagged, mismatched lines where some deep cuts hadn't healed together in proper alignment.

Hajime closed his eyes and inhaled a shaky breath. "I tried to stop you. You wouldn't listen to me."

"Must've been a reason for it, beyond you being my 'best friend.'" The words came out twisted, mocking. "Why'd I do it?"

"You shouldn't have," Hajime said morosely. "I'm not worth what you went through."

"Not worth it? What, I acted like an idiot when I signed up for this? You're saying that I fucked up?"

Hajime clenched his jaw and didn't respond. He didn't know what to say and every word was just making things worse. The two of them had talked so easily to each other that he didn't know how to handle this reset.

"So," Fuyuhiko said, still with the mocking tone he'd used on Hajime. He looked expectantly toward the new arrival waiting with his latest broth delivery. "Are you one of my best friends, too?"

Hajime turned to the door and winced. Of all people to have gotten that message he'd sent.

Mahiru paused, then said in measured tones, "I wouldn't use that term, no." She stepped into the infirmary and presented Fuyuhiko with his latest meal.

He didn't take the offered mug. "Huh. You're the first person who's had any sort of problem with me," Fuyuhiko noted with genuine curiosity. "Everyone's just been shoveling bullshit to keep me happy. So, what's your deal? What'd you do?"

"What did I do?" Mahiru repeated, uncertain.

"When we were all… y'know."

"Ah. Right." Mahiru set the mug down next to him when he refused to take it. "Propaganda, basically."

"Makes sense. You're…" Fuyuhiko squinted at her, then looked abruptly pleased as his scrambled mind put something into order. "Photography, right? Koizumi?"

She brightened. "Oh! You do remember things. It sounded like you'd forgotten everything, but I guess not. That's great!"

Hajime looked miserably at the floor and said nothing.

"Great?" Fuyuhiko echoed. "I thought you didn't give a shit."

Mahiru perched on the edge of a nearby counter. "We… didn't get along for a long time, but by now, we do. We'll never be each other's first choice to spend time with, but we're honestly fine."

"Fair enough." Fuyuhiko considered her, then asked with a wicked grin, "What happened? You sound like you're dancing around land mines."

Uneasy, Mahiru darted her gaze toward Hajime. "Does he know?" she asked in a strained whisper.

"No, I don't think so," Hajime whispered back. "Probably needed to forget about the whole process."

"What are you two whispering about?" Fuyuhiko demanded.

Mahiru inhaled. "Okay. You're going to find this out, so let me just tell you. To stop being those awful people, we went through a virtual reality simulation. But it went wrong and people started killing each other."

"Virtual," Fuyuhiko repeated without any gravity, clearly picturing some sort of small-scale experience. "So, what, you killed me?"

Mahiru blinked at him hard, then scowled.

Unconcerned, Fuyuhiko corrected to, "Or I killed you?"

"You were going to," Mahiru admitted. "But Peko stepped in."

"Well. Makes sense." Fuyuhiko grinned more broadly and honestly than a face that injured should be able to. "Guess that explains why we're not each other's favorite people, huh?"

Mahiru couldn't help but laugh a bit. "Well, obviously. Anyway, drink your broth. You're supposed to have it while it's hot."

Still smirking at her, Fuyuhiko reached for the insulated mug and lifted it like he was making a toast, then took a drink. She apparently took that as both thanks and farewell, and left the infirmary with light steps.

Hajime stared after her. Fuyuhiko was getting along better with Mahiru than him? Mahiru?! What the hell was going on?

"I'll get some more sleep," Fuyuhiko announced when he'd finished. "So you can stop looking ready to shit yourself."

Hajime could argue with that assessment, but he wouldn't make a very good job of it. With fresh sighs, he stared out the porthole until Fuyuhiko had fallen asleep, then waited aimlessly for Mikan's return.

Days passed like that.

Fuyuhiko's purple bruises faded to green and yellow. Thinner cuts disappeared into barely-there scars, while deeper gouges healed under Mikan's stitches. The hollows under his eyes and cheekbones didn't look quite as cavernous, and he finally managed to sleep through the night without waking up shivering. But he never recognized Hajime.

Hajime Hinata did have a talent that Hope's Peak had never cared about, and that was caring about people. But he wasn't allowed to use it, now. Izuru Kamukura had every talent on the planet. But none of them were any good, here.

He couldn't take this any more, Hajime told himself as he stared at nothing. Fuyuhiko had graduated to actual food, but with the scope of his lingering injuries, he still stayed in the infirmary. That meant that he yet needed to be brought his meals, and once Mahiru had held a successful conversation with him, everyone else was willing to try.

"You lied to me!" Kazuichi insisted. He was next to Fuyuhiko while Hajime stood just outside the door, but voices carried.

Fuyuhiko shrugged and slid a spoon into the thick, hearty stew he'd been handed. "Probably, yeah."

Kazuichi gasped, betrayed.

"You're easy to fool and you panic in a crisis," Fuyuhiko continued. "I remember that much. And you want to believe in people."

Though Kazuichi's offense deepened with the first two additions, the last one softened his outrage. "Well, yeah. I didn't know how you were going to get out of it, but when you said you had a plan to save everyone, I believed you. One hundred percent."

Fuyuhiko smirked. "As expected."

"Jerk," Kazuichi snorted, but the easy back-and-forth had him happier than he'd been ever since they saw the invading forces on the radar. "Hey, so, what else do you remember about me?"

Fuyuhiko made Kazuichi wait until he'd chewed and swallowed a mouthful. "That's a pretty damn big ask. Narrow the scope a little."

"Okay." Kazuichi screwed up his face in thought. "What's the first thing you remember about me after we woke up?"

"Woke up?" Fuyuhiko echoed.

"On the island."

He shrugged. "I got rid of all of that. People have told me there was a program, but I must've thought it was too risky to know about."

"Oh." Dismayed, Kazuichi considered, then tried again. "Uh, okay… what about when I showed up to class in a suit?"

Staring at him for a long, considering moment, Fuyuhiko abruptly laughed. "Fuck, you looked ridiculous. To 'impress Miss Sonia,' right?"

Kazuichi grinned, delighted. "I saw you go off to handle some family business, and you looked a lot cooler than in your uniform. I thought maybe it'd work for me, too."

"It didn't," Fuyuhiko said, then rolled his gaze thoughtfully upward. "Heh. Guess there's more in there than I thought. Even if it's nothing that really matters."

"No, this matters. It matters like you wouldn't believe!" Cheerfully, Kazuichi clapped him on the shoulder. "I'll let you eat, all right?"

"Finally," Fuyuhiko agreed, but with no real rancor.

Still in bright spirits, Kazuichi moved for the door, only to process that Hajime had been listening in with an increasingly gutted expression. "Uh. Sorry, man," he whispered, and hurried down the corridor.

Well. The good news was that Fuyuhiko was feeling better. His pain tolerance was beyond description, but that didn't mean he enjoyed it. Now that he was on the mend, and his pain steadily ebbed and his body again functioned like it should, his overall mood had followed suit. That'd opened him up to bits of nostalgic connection with the people brave enough to try it.

The bad news, Hajime thought as stepped away to let Fuyuhiko eat in privacy, was exactly the same as ever. To Fuyuhiko, Hajime was still as much of a blank void as what he'd been turned into during the Kamukura Project.

Had Mahiru really been the one to set this off? She'd practically skipped into the mess hall and announced that Fuyuhiko had remembered specifics about her, and that sent a jolt of optimism across the entire group. Which made sense. It was logical. But it still just seemed so odd that she—of all people—had been the first ray of real hope for Fuyuhiko.

Of course, Fuyuhiko had clearly appreciated that Mahiru had been the first 'stranger' to be honest with him about any darker topics. Maybe there was a lesson in that. Hajime waited, and considered, and eventually decided. He steeled his nerves and walked into the infirmary. Without preamble, he asked, "So. You really want to know why you did this for me?"

Fuyuhiko blinked. "Obviously," he said and set aside his empty bowl. Finally, he looked interested in something that Hajime had to say.

How to approach this? "When we were at Hope's Peak," Hajime slowly began, and took a chair near Fuyuhiko, "I got experimented on."

"Experimented?" Fuyuhiko repeated. His brow furrowed. "How?"

"They wanted me to be able to do more things," Hajime summarized, neither wanting to get bogged down in the details nor to relive his own horrors by doing so. "It involved a lot of surgery and some… other stuff."

Fuyuhiko's gaze grew increasingly curious as he studied the scars running across Hajime's forehead. "'Do more things?' What can you do, then?"

"Anything." Fuyuhiko's curiosity and good mood vanished at the seemingly flippant reply, and Hajime insisted, "Seriously, anything. That was the point of the project. Medicine, combat, languages… anything. And they did some physical development work to support all of those talents, too."

Fuyuhiko waited with obvious incredulity, but did look impressed when Hajime reached for a small dentist's mirror and bent its metal handle as easily as if it'd been a plastic straw. "Well, shit. Looks handy."

"Yeah. In theory, I could even try to fix your memories." Fuyuhiko also looked interested in that, but Hajime shook his head. He'd seen an answer to that question very quickly, but it had come with the simultaneous, gutting realization that there was no possible way to get access to what he'd need. And so, it hadn't really been an answer at all. "I can't actually do that," he clarified. "Ten different navies would be on us before we docked the ship."

Disappointed, but not surprised, Fuyuhiko shrugged. I knew what I was in for, the gesture seemed to say.

Hajime hesitated before continuing, trying to straighten out the mirror's handle as he did. His voice was quiet when he did speak. "There were side effects, too. Some… some really bad ones. But the school didn't care what happened. I was just their lab rat."

Silence answered him, hanging painfully heavy. A good ten seconds ticked by on the infirmary's clock. After that pause, Fuyuhiko concluded, "And they probably want their lab rat back."

Hajime looked at the floor and nodded.

"So… this isn't a one-time thing, then," Fuyuhiko slowly continued. "They'll always want to get ahold of you."

Hajime hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah."

"Then I'm going to have to do this again."

The words stabbed terror through his heart. "Never," Hajime instantly spat. After a deep breath, he strove for humor, but only sounded agonized as he forced words through his tight throat. "I mean, you don't care about me, right? No need to do anything for me again."

Fuyuhiko's gaze darkened. "If I think something's worth doing, I stick to it. Even if I don't remember why now, I must have had my reasons then."

Fuck it all, why was he so kneejerk stubborn? "They are never, ever getting their hands on you again. I won't let it happen."

"You won't let? I don't take orders from you." Dark memory filled Fuyuhiko's gaze, and he muttered, "I remember being in charge. I was giving the orders. If this is what I decided I need to do…"

The thought of Fuyuhiko getting captured again filled Hajime with panic; the thought of him willingly walking back into hell had him practically delirious with it. "Well, you're not getting past every single person on this ship. We're not letting you throw yourself away again!" By the end, Hajime stood and was nearly shouting.

Instantly obstinate, Fuyuhiko leaned forward, uncaring of the fragile figure he still struck in the hospital bed. "I'd like to see them try and stop me."

A disbelieving laugh broke free. "Oh yeah? Look at you!" Hajime cried before he could help it, and gestured to the mess two months of torture had made of Fuyuhiko. "Say you could actually get past us. You think you could really head back for more?" Even as he said the words, he knew they were a critically wrong move.

Fury sparked behind Fuyuhiko's eye. "What, you think I can't take it?"

"Will you just—"

"Fuck off! From what I've heard from everyone, I'm who saved their asses last time, not you! Me, not some superpowered lab rat!"

Electricity seemed to run down his spine, and words poured out of Hajime before he could stop them. "You know what, Fuyuhiko? No. No, you can't take another round of this. You barely survived this one."

"Don't tell me what I can't do."

"Lose even another couple of kilos again, and you will fall back into poikilothermia and die in a torture chamber. It's not a question." Hajime leaned forward and propped his weight on the side of Fuyuhiko's bed. "You are not taking the bullet for me again. Because—listen carefully—you. Can't. Do. This."

As expected, nothing filled Fuyuhiko with fury like the implication of weakness. This was far from weakness, but was the simple limit of how much any human could take. Even so, it landed as terribly as he knew it would, but Hajime just hadn't been able to stop the words from pouring out. Spending this long mired in misery and guilt had worn away his defenses; hearing that Fuyuhiko was already planning for more torture and certain death lit a fuse.

"Get out," Fuyuhiko spat, looking ready to lunge out of his hospital bed with his hands aimed for Hajime's throat. "And don't let me see your face again."

"Heard that one before," Hajime said tiredly, and walked for the door. Once there, he turned. "You're not going to throw your life away for someone you clearly don't give one single shit about."

"This has nothing to do with you. This is about me and what I decided to do. Now: get out."

Hajime managed to round two corners before the first ragged sob ripped free. He leaned against a wall and wiped away hot, angry tears with a rough swipe of his wrist. Shit. Goddammit.

Trying to be honest with Fuyuhiko had been one bad fucking move.

Soon, he found himself doing engine repairs three months ahead of schedule, just so he'd have something to focus on. His hands stayed busy, his mind stayed quiet, and his heart hid in a corner and didn't dare to speak up. It worked for hours of distraction, but eventually, the dinner chime sounded. He didn't want people to come looking for him, and so Hajime tiredly headed to the mess hall. He'd sit by himself.

Everyone was there, save Fuyuhiko. Nearly all of the people who made up Hajime's world were right here in this one room. It was a dozen different shades of 'loud,' from laughter to arguments to excitement. Looking at them, no one would think the group had been chased from their home mere months earlier.

They probably want their lab rat back.

But they had been chased off Jabberwock, and they'd barely made it out alive. Because Hajime hadn't kept any of these people safe, despite being the military's biggest target.

They probably want their lab rat back.

He'd let that happen to Fuyuhiko.

They probably want their lab rat back.

The soldiers were going to keep coming.

Through dull eyes, Hajime looked around the room and imagined bullets ripping through skulls. The men targeting them planned to kill everyone besides himself, Sonia, and Fuyuhiko, right? And the other two would face torture until their knowledge was wrung dry. (…More torture.)

And what did they have to face those entire military fleets when they did inevitably come? Not a full island chain with its own defensive capabilities, like they'd used last time. No: now they had a ship, singular, and one helicopter. They'd failed before, and now their situation was even worse.

Hajime was pretty sure that he could single-handedly take over another vessel, if it came to that. But he'd need the opportunity to do so. If a battleship or submarine sent a torpedo at them from a kilometer away, he'd never get that chance.

If soldiers came for him again, all of these people would die or end up in torture chambers. Hajime wouldn't be able to stop it. And so, once again, he didn't know what to do.

At the end of his fatalistic survey across the room, Hajime's attention lingered on someone. Memories whispered, almost too softly to hear at first, until he really listened to what they said. His expression shifted slowly, from misery to uncertainty to realization.

Oh. Oh. Of course. He should have seen this sooner.

Nagito only looked up after the lightbulb had gone off. He blinked in confusion over Hajime blatantly staring at him, and gestured to himself like he expected a question to be asked. Hajime shook his head once. No need to ask a question; Nagito had already given him an answer.

Yes. Right.

That had been the answer, all along.

He just hadn't wanted to admit what was being asked of him.

At the end of his brief dinner, Hajime stood and walked over to another table. "I'm taking the chopper," he whispered to the Imposter. "I'll be back later."

That earned a confused blink. "What's happening? Do you need a co-pilot?"

"No. It'll be quick, I'll be back by morning. I just didn't want you to wonder where it was."

"All right." The answer was uncertain, but Hajime didn't bother offering reassurance or clarification as he walked off. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nagito hurry over to talk to the Imposter. "The helicopter?" Nagito repeated with surprise, and Hajime sped his pace. He didn't want to deal with any sort of explanation.

Soon, the helicopter lifted smoothly off its landing pad under his controls. He tilted it toward the southeast, and as he circled around, noticed that he was being observed by a white head of hair dyed the colors of sunset. Hajime returned his attention to the sky and flew onward.

Two hours later, he descended toward a pitch-black expanse carved out of another forest. There were many such abandoned military bases around the world, and with a global power shortage, they weren't bothering to keep the lights on. Many of the supplies here had been carried off, but not all; they'd gotten the helicopter he was flying from this same base, along with enough replacement parts to last them a decade.

Using only moonlight and starlight, Hajime located a runway and used it as a landing pad. As he hopped out of the craft and to the ground, he hoped that the Canadian forces hadn't carried off what he needed as they pulled back to defend Vancouver.

Cracks ran across the tarmac, and weeds pushed through. Once, this had been a world-class facility for world-class soldiers, but so much had been abandoned when half the world fell. Those soldiers were now after him, Hajime reminded himself. They were after his friends. And they had hurt one friend in ways that he couldn't even describe.

Steeling his resolve, Hajime hurried through the crisp, chill darkness in search of a way to stop all of those soldiers from ever getting a second chance. His light, precise footsteps echoed across the sprawling pavement and between the concrete buildings. Only the soft cries of nearby owls interrupted him. This once-bustling base was silent, now, and the natural world was beginning to reclaim what humanity had abandoned.

Aha, Hajime saw as he trailed heavy cables across the ground and found the control box that collected them. It was attached to a concrete block of a building, unlabeled and unremarkable. Here it was. Not bothering with niceties, he kicked at the door like he was trying to drive in someone's chest, and proceeded inside when it wrenched off its hinges.

Relief soon swept him. Yes. They'd left behind exactly what he needed.

With the assistance of a few spare duffel bags, Hajime began scooping up every piece of abandoned telecommunications equipment left in this control room. Their group had been using that slow, secretive frequency, but it was time to take a different approach. Trying to duck down and hide in the shadows, as they'd been doing, could only protect them for so long. Hajime refused to be the prey again, left to be tracked and discovered.

As he exited the building, a gust of wind whipped past and caught a tattered flag left on its pole. Red and white. For a moment, Hajime was back walking through the ruins of military bases with a red sun flying over them, rather than a maple leaf. Those were the soldiers most desperate to find him. Although they had allies around the world who also sought the Remnants, it was Japanese forces who'd led the assault on Jabberwock and captured Fuyuhiko.

They'd regret that.

Confident that he'd found all that he needed, Hajime loaded the duffel bags into the helicopter, refueled, and set back off for their hiding place near the Alaskan Panhandle. There were still hours of darkness left when he landed. He should sleep, first, to make sure he had a clear head. He was trying to change the world, after all.

Well into morning, his efforts were going well. Hajime had taken over the control cabin of the ship, as he needed access to some of its systems. His in-progress work with the military electronics he'd raided already covered half the room.

"Hajime?" Nagito asked as he stepped into the control room.

He didn't look up from his work. "Yeah?"

"What are you doing?"

Still studying the electronics in front of him, Hajime smiled. It might be a dark, unbalanced expression. Nagito's behavior inside the simulation had served as his inspiration, after all. "You'd probably say something about 'creating hope.'"

Silence. Then, "Whose hope?"

That earned another smile. "Good question." Nagito didn't say anything else, but neither did he leave. Eventually, Hajime continued, "Nagito. I want to ask you something. About the Funhouse. When you learned the truth about us, what ran through your head?"

Those soldiers on Jabberwock had come hunting for Hajime, and they didn't care who they'd hurt in the process. No, that wasn't right: they'd come hunting for Hajime, and they would gleefully slaughter most of his friends if they got the chance. Those who they didn't slaughter, they'd torture.

And not just torture, Hajime knew as he thought about what was left of Fuyuhiko, but destroy. Utterly. The so-called good guys would rip out everything that made up the people he cared about. Those men who'd come for Hajime and the men who'd done this to Fuyuhiko could make zero claim at being on the side of good, despite all claims to the contrary.

Nagito's concern deepened at the seeming non sequitur, but he still didn't try to pull Hajime away from whatever he was working on. After that long pause, he answered, "I had to stop everyone. Before you hurt anyone else."

"Right. Exactly." Hajime reached for a wire and stripped its coating. "You asked whose hope I'm creating, so: our hope. I apparently have to pick, and so I pick our hope." He'd might have been created as the world's hope, but his world had been reduced to the people on this ship.

There was another long pause from the man at the door. Hajime wondered if Nagito would demand to know exactly what he was planning, or would spout off more speeches about how the entire world's hope rested in his hands. But no. After that aching pause, Nagito simply murmured, "I understand" and turned, closing the door behind him.

Hajime nodded and leaned back in to his work.

It took him eight days, and he barely left the room until he was done. Fuyuhiko was probably relieved about that.

At the end of those eight days, when Hajime was sure that his plan would work, he walked to the infirmary and was surprised to find it empty. A quick check of the roster told him that Fuyuhiko had moved to a normal room, right next to Peko's, and Hajime headed there with purpose. Even if Fuyuhiko connected with every other person on this ship better than with Hajime, it was doubtful he'd willingly spend much time socializing.

As expected, the door opened, and the face behind it wasn't happy. "Well," Fuyuhiko said shortly, and studied him. He looked much healthier than before; once he'd made it through the worst stretch, he'd apparently improved rapidly. A thick sweater appeared to be enough to keep him warm. "You listened to me for a week, at least."

Right. Fuyuhiko didn't want to see his face again. "I just wanted to let you know that I'm doing something for you on deck as soon as it gets dark," Hajime levelly said. "You don't have to come. But if you look through the porthole and wonder what you're seeing, you'll know what's up."

Fuyuhiko blinked. "Huh? The hell's that supposed to mean?"

"Don't worry about it."

"If you're doing something for me," Fuyuhiko snapped, "without my permission, then I'm gonna fuckin' worry!"

"So, we're talking about asking the other person's permission, now?" Hajime said, and didn't try to soften how pointed the words were. "Anyway. You can come if you want, or not." He turned and left without further explanation, leaving Fuyuhiko blinking behind him.

Even if Fuyuhiko hated him, and even if he never wanted to see Hajime again, Hajime was his best friend. He was going to take care of Fuyuhiko and stop what had happened from ever, ever repeating.

Whether Fuyuhiko wanted him to or not.

And he was going to protect everyone else, too, Hajime calmly told himself as they joined him on the deck. Those soldiers never should have been able to sneak up on them, and the local radar never should had been the first warning sign they had. If he'd protected his friends to begin with, none of this would have happened.

Confusion ran wild. All everyone knew was that Hajime was working on something supposedly important, with components taken from a military base, but there were no weapons to be seen. He didn't look aggressive, either; if anything, he looked eerily calm as he stared up at the sky.

"Mind clueing us in?" Akane demanded, hugging herself tightly. She treated the cold as an opponent, and she always hated to admit defeat. At least she'd relented into putting on a pair of sweatpants, but she still refused to wear a coat.

Hajime smiled slightly at the sight, and of everything he knew of her. He'd protect her, too, like he'd failed to do on Jabberwock.

"Seriously," Hiyoko complained. She too had resisted dressing for the increasingly cold weather, but she'd finally given in at the first dusting of snow. As Mahiru leaned over to pull her in to a warmth-sharing hug, Hiyoko wondered, "What have you even been doing, anyway? Did your big fight with Fuyuhiko make you turn tail and hide for that long?"

It probably wasn't a surprise that secrets spread quickly within tight quarters. "Simple," Hajime said, and looked back up at the night sky. "I'm doing what I should have done before all of this happened in the first place: protecting everyone."

"How?" Kazuichi asked, audibly nervous. "Didn't you go to, uh…"

"A military base?" Nagito concluded. He wasn't outright nervous like Kazuichi, of course, but even he sounded at least apprehensive about Hajime's uncharacteristic behavior and whatever he'd left him to do in that room. Nagito sounding even mildly concerned about something managed to unnerve Ryota and Teruteru, too.

"Yes."

Hajime's blunt answer did nothing to soothe their nerves, and the group looked between themselves.

Sonia gathered her courage and stepped forward. "Hajime, when the five of us chose to shut down the program, we did so for the safety of the world. You musn't—" Her voice faltered when his attention turned toward her.

Hajime could only imagine what his expression looked like, right now. Those soldiers had come in search of Izuru Kamukura. After what they'd done to the people he cared about, they'd found him.

She collected her courage and tried again. "You mustn't hurt anyone, Hajime."

"I'm not going to hurt anyone," he said like it was self-evident. That lack of trust should have hurt, but he distantly realized that his voice had indeed gone flat, all its emotional affectation falling away. It had been a very, very long stretch of months. Feelings had failed him over and over again as they went on, and now, he just needed to fix these problems before they could happen again.

"Then what the hell are you doing?"

The voice sliced through Hajime's disaffected thoughts, and he blinked with surprise. Fuyuhiko stood near the stairs, ready to return below deck in an instant, but he was there.

"Sorry, Fuyuhiko," Hajime said as all of those squelched emotions rushed back into him like surging floodwaters, and he flexed his hand around the small controller it held. "I know you said you didn't want me making this decision for you. Well. I'm gonna."

"Huh?" Fuyuhiko asked, too confused to be angry.

Turning back to the sky, Hajime inhaled.

He was about to end the world.

Again.

Before he could talk himself out of this, his thumb clicked the button to confirm the algorithm he'd spent a week building. Humanity's greatest genius had used a modified satellite phone taken from the Canadian base to hack into every government and military system left in this broken world, and slithered into their cracks and shadows. After that, he'd started calculating angles and vectors and control mechanisms. And now, he'd just put all of those controls into effect.

There was a full minute of wary silence as they waited for anything to happen, finally broken by Nagito wondering, "Hajime… what did you do?"

"I'm not hurting anyone," he calmly repeated. "I'm just going to stop them before they hurt anyone else."

Nagito still looked unsettled, especially at the echo of his own words, but said nothing more.

As Hajime looked up at the sky and waited, his breath suddenly caught as he realized Fuyuhiko had walked up next to him. Though his tight expression demanded answers, Hajime could only say, "I owe you this."

"Owe me what, exact… ly…" Fuyuhiko's question trailed off into nothing as a spectacular streak of light burned across the sky.

A few people gasped. Realizing what they must be thinking, Hajime said, "It's not a missile. Don't worry. But keep watching."

Another streak of light blazed overhead, then a third. And then, suddenly, it became a waterfall of shining, gleaming color tearing apart the night sky. A meteor shower like the Perseids might see a hundred so-called falling stars in an hour. This was thousands of points of light, in minutes.

It was beautiful. Even though he'd known what was about to happen, Hajime couldn't help but stare up in awe at the choir of light singing an intricate melody overhead. Runs, chords, arpeggios; the glimmering lines wrote out a song that had never been seen in the history of the world, and would never be seen again.

"What did you do?" Fuyuhiko asked in an amazed whisper as he stared up at the glorious show above.

"I owe you this," Hajime repeated, also in a whisper, then stayed silent until calm, dark night finally returned.

A few final streaks of light followed their brethren down to earth. Only when they were sure that no more would follow did everyone turn to Hajime. Every last face demanded answers.

For it, he held up his hand to show off the small controller held in his palm.

"They had… that at the military base?" Kazuichi asked weakly.

"No." Hajime smiled as genuine relief swept him, like he hadn't felt for a very long time. "It just set off my algorithm."

"Which did what?" Peko prompted.

"Directed ninety-three percent of all functioning satellites out of orbit. And I now control the other seven percent."

That took a moment to sink in, then earned a collective gasp. "Those were satellites?" Mahiru demanded. "Like, television and internet and phone satellites?"

Hajime looked back up at a now-empty sky. "Like spy satellites. Like military targeting and attack satellites. They're never going to find any of you again. And with the ones I kept, I'll know if they even make an attempt. It'll be impossible to take us by surprise, ever again."

Overwhelmed, Sonia clutched her forehead. "Every telecommunications network around the world just collapsed." Gundham stared at Hajime like he'd wielded some dark magical powers to put on that spectacular display.

"Not every one," Hajime calmly countered. "Land-based towers will still work fine, and there are plenty of those. And I spent the last four days making sure that no satellites would angle toward populated areas, just in case they didn't burn up. No one was hurt. Which is a lot more than those soldiers can say.

"I didn't hurt anyone," he repeated in the silence. "But… I realized that I had to decide who I'm protecting, actively. And I picked you."

Aware of the stunned figure still standing at his side, Hajime quietly repeated, "I picked you. You won't have to do it again. And I'll stop talking to you, now."

Fuyuhiko's eye opened as wide as Hajime had ever seen it, and he looked up to stare again at the heavens that had been ripped down to keep him safe.

"All right. That's it." Hajime smiled. "Show's over. If we want, we could set sail tomorrow. They're never going to find us again."

He didn't know whether to expect it or not, but a knock came on his cabin door an hour later. When Hajime opened it, Fuyuhiko met his gaze for only a couple of seconds before studying the floor between them. "What in the hell was… I didn't ask for that."

"I know. But I owed you that much, Fuyuhiko. If I had done what I was capable of early enough, then you wouldn't have been forced into doing what you were capable of. I screwed up, so now I fixed it."

"When they figure out what happened, you're just going to be even more of a target," Fuyuhiko muttered. "Biggest bad guy on the planet."

He shrugged, smiling lopsidedly. "Already am, right?"

Fuyuhiko snorted slightly, but admitted, "Who… made his project take twice as long, so that he wouldn't hurt people. I would've just figured that everything would burn up."

"None of us want to hurt people," Hajime agreed, and instinctively raised his hand toward the fresh, deeper scar that had been carved across Fuyuhiko's bad eye. He caught himself halfway there and lowered his hand. "But the 'good guys' apparently can't say the same. So I picked us. And I don't regret it. They won't be able to see or hear us well enough to find us, any more, and so you'll never have to do that again."

For once, the silence between them seemed comfortable, like it had been before, when they could sit in each other's presence and not feel the immediate need to fill the quiet. In that quiet, Hajime was finally able to think of the right thing to say. "Don't think of this as coming from a friend. We apparently can't be that, any more. But I owed you a debt, and I needed to repay it."

Fuyuhiko studied him, clearly aware that Hajime had deliberately chosen language from Fuyuhiko's world, and seemed to consider him anew. Maybe, just maybe, they did understand each other, despite all this time seeming to say otherwise. "Hey. Lab rat."

"Don't call me that," Hajime instantly countered.

Not bothering to apologize, Fuyuhiko continued, "So, you just took out every way for militaries to track us, right? Plan offensive maneuvers? Organize their fleets?" After getting a nod at each question, he slowly finished, "Then… didn't you say you'd thought of something that might fix my memories, if only you could get past the military?"

Everything went still, and Hajime's eyes opened wide as he realized what he'd accidentally done as part of his plan.

"I just…" Troubled, Fuyuhiko tried a few times to finish his thoughts. "What you did up there tonight, I…" He shifted his weight. "I guess you finally made me curious about caring that damn much."

Hajime gripped his hand before he could help it. "Okay. Before we sail back there, I need to know if they would have gone back to look inside a specific building. I don't think you do, but do you know anything about something called the Neo World Program? Anything at all?"

Fuyuhiko blinked back at him with a total lack of recognition. "That's a dumbass name."

With a crow of delighted laughter over the confirmation that Fuyuhiko had never told them a thing, Hajime unthinkingly drew him into a hug.

"Get off me!" Fuyuhiko spat, his good mood gone.

"Sorry," Hajime chuckled, and stepped away. "Sorry. Force of habit."

"If you try to act like a friend who hugs me," Fuyuhiko muttered, "I'm gonna change my mind about this."

Hajime held up his hands. "Right. No hugs. Sorry."

"Okay. Glad we've gotten that straightened out." Fuyuhiko cleared his throat. "We're not friends. You've just got me curious. That's it."

"Absolutely," Hajime agreed. "That's it."

"Well. Okay. Right." Fuyuhiko hesitated a moment longer, then turned and walked off without a good-bye.

Hajime watched him leave, then turned and flat-out ran the other direction, toward the stairs. It was time to weigh anchor, and he'd figure out the safest path back toward Jabberwock once they were in motion. That would be easy enough; they still had access to all remaining navigational and spy satellites, after all, while every single one of their enemies had just been thrown back into navigating by compass and map.

Eighteen days later, they were back.

Everyone looked wistfully at the familiar beaches and palm trees. Even if they'd blinded the world's militaries, it was too dangerous to stay permanently in this known location. They could make return trips to strip the islands of what supplies they had to offer, but this wasn't home, any more.

"Come on," Hajime said, and gestured to the dock. "In there."

Fuyuhiko looked warily toward the central administration building; familiar to Hajime, but an unknown location to him. "What are we doing, exactly? You said this is where that virtual game thing happened, but I'm not doing that again, am I?"

He shook his head as they set into motion. "No. In a worst-case scenario, I can look for the same memory files that were generated when the simulation ran before. That wouldn't be… ideal, since it'd have some holes and nothing past when we woke up, but it'd be better than now." And Fuyuhiko would be balanced on the edge of Ultimate Despair, again, but they could all pull him off the ledge in the right direction.

"Okay," Fuyuhiko said, clearly troubled, but making the active decision to trust Hajime. "What's the best-case scenario, then? How would you get the memories back, otherwise?"

"I don't think they're actually gone," Hajime theorized.

That earned a dark look. "I'm pretty damn sure I knew what I was doing, there."

"You absolutely cannot reach those memories," Hajime quickly agreed. "Which kept those guys from being able to, either. But, it's like… imagine two buildings with a road between them. When you told me about what you did, I realized that I don't think you blew up the buildings. They're still there. I think you just blew up the road, so there's no way to access them."

"Okay," Fuyuhiko said uncertainly. "What's the difference, then, in fixing them?"

"Cognitive psychology studies retrieval methods for information that has been stored in long-term memory." The formal explanation quickly earned annoyance, and Hajime changed to, "You changed your associations with them, so you can't pull your memories out. You blew up the road, in other words. But there are pods—" Please, let the pods still be there. "That are specifically designed to deal with memories. I'm positive I can tweak them to zero in on fixing your retrieval processes. I won't need to actually rebuild any memories. I'll just need to fix the roads."

"Makes sense," Fuyuhiko said, but sounded even more uncertain as the details poured in. "So, I'm going to get into a weird memory pod that was used to lock me into a killing game, and you're gonna fuck with my brain. Like the pod already did, once."

"That's." Hajime paused, then held back a grimace. "Yeah. I wouldn't use those words, but… that's technically accurate, yeah."

Fuyuhiko looked to the side, and Hajime realized someone had followed them to the building. "What do you think?"

"It's as I've been telling you, all this time." Peko nodded. "You can trust Hajime."

Fuyuhiko stared at the building looming overhead, then sighed. "Fuck it." He pushed his way inside, not waiting for them to follow.

When Hajime moved to do so, a hand caught his wrist. "Thank you," Peko whispered, with a rare smile.

He smiled, too. "You got him out."

"And you'll get him back." She stepped back, releasing his wrist. "I won't keep you. But truly: thank you."

Nodding, Hajime reached over and squeezed her wrist before he followed Fuyuhiko inside. He found Fuyuhiko in the lobby, looking critically at the looming statue representing the five islands; he hadn't known which hallway to use after entering. Hajime led him down a path that they'd walked countless times while working on their sleeping friends, and kept glancing at him to see if any recognition flickered.

None did, but that might also have been because of how focused he was on assessing the space around them. "No signs of forced entry anywhere," Fuyuhiko mused. "And there's dust."

"It doesn't look like anyone's been down here," Hajime agreed, but his pulse sped as they approached the final corridor. He took and held a deep breath as he pushed open the door in question.

The pods were still there.

His lungs emptied, and Hajime's heart lurched back into regular motion. "Okay," he said, and tried to not let on how worried he'd been that they might come all this way only to find that the military had carried off the island's heart. "Pick a pod."

Fuyuhiko eyed him oddly—Hajime's nerves had clearly come through—but he shrugged and walked over to the pod nearest to the main control panel. "So, I just…?"

"You just get in," Hajime confirmed, and tapped the pod's panel to open it.

Needing another few contemplative moments, Fuyuhiko let out a whooshing breath, nodded, and climbed into the empty pod. "Don't fuck up, lab rat."

"Don't call me that," Hajime reminded him, hopefully for the last time, and tapped the controls to close the pod. Inside, Fuyuhiko watched him through its fogged glass, then abruptly dropped into unconsciousness as its effects took hold.

Okay. Time to be someone's Ultimate Hope, again.

Hajime's fingers flew across the controls as he worked on repurposing the intricate code of the Neo World Program. Software code and neurological structures both reshaped under his expert hands, but it wasn't a quick process. He'd reprogrammed the world's satellites, but reprogramming Fuyuhiko's brain felt infinitely more consequential.

Eventually, he had to activate the program and turn it over to the machine. It was out of his hands, now, and he could only wait, watch, and hope. Eighty-seven anxious minutes later, a light turned from green to white. The program had ended.

Fear and anticipation filled him in equal measure. He was almost sure this would work, but if it didn't, Hajime didn't have another plan. It would work, right? It would work. It would work. It had to work, he told himself as he reached for the pod's controls and tapped OPEN. It had to work.

The pod door slowly opened, and Fuyuhiko's eyelid followed.

Hajime leaned over him, realizing his own hands were shaking. "H-hey." He swallowed, feeling suddenly weighed down by the gravity of this moment. Either he was about to get Fuyuhiko back, or it would prove impossible. "How'd it go?"

Fuyuhiko blinked at him once. Twice.

Hajime looked down, and again swallowed hard.

Abruptly, Fuyuhiko lunged halfway out of the pod and grabbed Hajime by his shirt collar. "You asshole! I told you not to bother!"

"You told me?" Hajime repeated with a tremulous, hopeful voice.

"All of those fucking satellites? They're gonna know it was you!"

He swallowed. "And who am I?"

Fuyuhiko's lower lip quivered. "Hajime Hinata. The world's biggest idiot."

Delirious joy overtook Hajime, and he leaned in for a hug that lifted Fuyuhiko the rest of the way out of his pod. One arm wrapped around the other man's back, holding him close, while his other hand rested along the curve of Fuyuhiko's head. "You're the idiot," Hajime laughed, and rested his face against Fuyuhiko's.

"Fuck you," Fuyuhiko snorted, and wrapped his arms around Hajime in return, allowing himself to be held like he seldom did. "My plan worked great."

"Well, so did mine." Hajime's grip tightened, though he remembered in time that Fuyuhiko still had deep injuries lurking inside. "I picked you. Just like you picked me."

Fuyuhiko tried to say something, but failed.

"Thank you," Hajime whispered. Now that sun had returned to his world, he could admit to what fate Fuyuhiko had saved him from. "God, thank you. Never do that again. Never."

"That's the plan," Fuyuhiko whispered, and laughed once. It faded into a soft, twisted noise. "I thought I'd never see you again."

"And you do. You see me. Right?"

"Yeah." Fuyuhiko nodded against him. "I do."

Ultimate Hope felt like a worthwhile title, suddenly. "Come on," Hajime eventually said. He didn't let go of Fuyuhiko, though, and Fuyuhiko didn't step away. "Let's figure out what home's going to be, now."

#my fic #i joke that my single favorite trope is 'earn your happy ending' #significantly fucking less of an ideal situation for the rest of the world but our focus is BIASED

[unholyhelbig]

Feral!Nance going wild over her "friend" Robin being beat up on a fight for being gæ

Title: I'd Like to Know You

Ship: Nancy Wheeler x Robin Buckley

Warnings: Homophobia, blood, usage of slurs, classic 1980's close-mindedness.

[A/n: Did this cure my writers block? Maybe. But probably not. Also, I didn't proofread]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

There was a distinct sound that accompanied broken ribs. It was a pop that was often muted and overruled by a grunt, or a scream, or any type of frazzled sound. Nancy Wheeler was sure she broke her ribs the first time she handled something stronger than a handgun. Of course, they were just bruised, but it still took her a few moments to pull gunpowder-soaked air into her lungs.

The sound she heard when Robin Buckley’s side slammed into the slate gray 1979 Camaro was undeniably that of broken ribs. She’s been shoved into the door with enough force to enact the quiet crunch, and to Robin’s credit, she barely made a noise.

Tommy Hagen pulled his hand back, already thick and crusted with blood, and brought it down into Robin’s mid-section, not allowing her to catch her breath. She coughed up a black burst of gore, spilling over Tommy’s letterman jacket.

Carol Perkins sat on the hood of an adjacent car, her heels on the fender, her gum a delicious type of purple that Nancy could smell from here as she stretched it over her tongue and let it pop against her lips in a sticky mess. She looked bored- had the audacity to be unamused as Robin lay wounded.

Nancy took a step forward before she was halted by a hand on her shoulder. It was warm and tender and filled with worry. “Nancy, don’t. It’s better to leave it.” Barb Holland grimaced, holding her books closer to her chest.

When it came to Robin Buckley, people tended to look the other way, including Nancy. There had been rumors that circulated about her since middle school, cruel names that were thrown around, written on her locker with dark cherry red lipstick. She carried herself with dignity and took beatings as if they were nothing.

But today was undeniably cold, the parking lot was empty aside for the two perpetrators, and Nancy. Barb had stayed by the doors of the school, her cheeks pink with embarrassment. She would easily close herself away to avoid confrontation and urged Nancy to do the same.

“Seriously, Nance, please.”

She appreciated what Barb was trying to do. Neither of them was one for intervening, also figuring that someone else would. But there was no one else. Nancys eyes darted around the parking lot once more. The sun was starting to set, and the toe of Tommy’s boot kicked into Robin’s collarbone. She was cornered.

Nancy clutched her math textbook until her fingers burned against the cold. She gave an apologetic look to Barb who was already retreating further into the school, before she heard herself shout. “Hey!”

The girl’s voice echoed through the lot with enough power to catch Carol’s attention. Tommy righted himself, turning halfway to peer at Nancy. It took him a few moments to recognize her as she took long and calculated steps across the lot, avoiding the patches of ice.

“Wheeler!” he laughed, holding his arms out like a sadistic ringleader. Blood dripped from his knuckles onto the pavement. “I didn’t think you’d ever show your face around here after your little peep show at the movies.”

“I hope it was worth it, Wheeler.” Carol cackled strangely, hauling herself from the hood of the car. She crossed her arms over her chest and snapped her gum twice more.

Nancy ignored them both in favor for calculating all of her strength and anger into the direction of her textbook. She slammed the calculus second edition into Tommy’s cheek with as much force as she could muster. It made an odd sound that was drowned out by his grunt of discontent.

When his head lifted, a bright flourish of blood edged by a purple forming bruise was obvious against his cheek. His fingers touched the gash, and when he pulled away, he was stunned.

Nancy growled, “Don’t touch her again. Or next time it’ll be more than a textbook.”

“Are you threatening me?” He looked back at Carol as if to confirm. “You’re threatening me for this… this dyke?”

Nancy’s eyes darted down to the girl on the ground. She groaned and spat a mix of saliva and blood onto the cement. She’d heard the slur before, it was one of the choice vocabulary words that sprawled Robin’s bike, her garage, her locker.

Her hands worked faster than her mind, clutching onto the lapels of Tommy’s jacket. She shoved his back against the side of his car. She didn’t’ have enough strength to break bones, but his breath still escaped him.

“You’re used to getting away with whatever you want because you’re a pretty boy, and a jock” He snickered at her and she lifted him from the side of the car and slammed him back down, harder this time. “Listen to me, Tommy. You may think you’re big and strong right now, but you’ve peaked. All you’ll ever be is some washed up highschooler that beat up someone smaller than him.”

His smile was slowly fading, the blood from the cut on his cheek staining his lips a hot pink, diluted color. Nancy wanted to give in to her anger, to make him hurt more than he was hurting now. And for what? For a stranger who clutched her splintered ribs and watched her with a deep, ghostly, stare.

“I’ll tell you a secret, Tommy. After you graduate, you will be the small one. The world is cruel to people who are cruel to it, Hawkin’s especially. And I have the sinking feeling that you’ll never leave Hawkins. Not alive if you keep this up.”

He let out a small noise from the back of his throat, not having a rebuttal at the ready. For good measure, Nancy lifted her knee and slammed it into his crotch with a decent amount of force. Tommy fell into her with a sharp groan, hands quickly going to his manhood.

She shoved him off and let him curl into a ball on the pavement. Carol rushed to his side, rubbing soothing circles on his back. She sent Nancy a poisonous stare, teeth grinding on the grape gum that was surely losing its flavor.

Nancy brushed it off as the adrenaline in her veins started to wear thin.  She used the last of her gall she scooped Robin Buckley off the ground and draped her arm over her shoulders, pulling the girl to her side. She smelled thick metal, of salt that was laid on the road to melt ice.

They got halfway across the parking lot before Tommy gained his voice back. It was pinched with pain. “You’re fucking dead Wheeler! You and your little girlfriend! Dead!”

She paid him no mind, leaning Robin up against the side of her father’s station wagon as she fumbled with her keys. Her fingers were shaking now, but that hardly mattered. She opened the door and shoved the trumpet player unceremoniously into the passenger seat before she climbed in herself.

Nancy peeled out of the parking lot, the tires squealed, and Robin clutched the dashboard, clearly fighting back bile that rose in her throat. Nancy hadn’t thought this all the way through. Where was she supposed to take this stranger who was bleeding profusely?

“You,” Robin spoke for the first time. It was breathy with a rasp Nancy couldn’t pin. “Shouldn’t have done that.”

She nearly hit the brakes on the station wagon if it wouldn’t’ sent them careening into the woods bordering the road. Nancy was heading home, it was subconscious, but she figured she could go in through the basement door and keep her parents from worrying.

“A thank you would work.”

“I… could have handled…it.”

“Yeah, you looked like you were handling it.”

Nancy pulled into her driveway, not paying much attention to her park job, the Station wagon was overlapping the grass. She rounded the side of the car and gently pulled the girl up. There wasn’t resistance, Robin didn’t’ have it in her, that much was clear. Though, she looked at the house, and its surroundings.

It took a few moments to navigate Robin down the stairs to the basement, there was a steady build of ice against cement. She nearly slipped, but the two of them held each other upright and welcomed the warm glow of the basement.

Her little brother was in the small part of the room that was draped with old Christmas lights, pillows, and blankets. Mike sat up an snapped his copy of X-men #134 shut. He took in the sight of Nancy, of her pink sweater that was wicked with dried blood and the injured girl that was wrapped around her.

The first words out of his mouth “I’m telling mom.”

“Do it and your Death Star model gets it.”

Nancy had used the threat before, but there was so much hostility embedded in her voice that Mike swallowed thickly and nodded before dashing up the stairs. She had to trust that it worked as she gently set Robin on the sofa.

There was a first aide kit in the cabinet above the toilet. When she returned, Robin was slumped against the cushions, staring up at the old posters on the ceiling. She blinked slowly and it was clear that it pained her to pull air into her lungs.

Nancy’s softness as she instructed Robin to sit up surprised them both. She used warm water and soap on a washcloth. There was more blood than clear skin on Robin’s face, and Nancy tenderly began to wipe it away, avoiding the gashes and lacerations.

She found Robin’s eyes fascinating. They were a deep shade of pillowy blue, and they held so much pain. As she wiped the russet color away from the girls cheeks, she was met with a smattering of freckles, and soft pink lips. She’d never looked at Robin Buckley before. In fact, most of the time she actively tried to look away.

“What you did back there… it was really brave. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

Nancy scoffed, sliding her fingers against Robin’s jaw as she pushed her head to the side and scrubbed at a strip of dried blood. “Tommy is a dick. I meant what I said. You have way more potential in this world than he does.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“I don’t have to.” Nancy busied herself with finding a bottle of alcohol and a few cotton pads. Robin winced when it touched the cut on her chin, breathing through her clenched teeth. “Sorry, sorry.”

“Most people would have walked away, you know? I’ve never expected Hawkin’s to be this giant welcoming committee with balloons and confetti, but this? It’s usually a witch hunt before and after class. Tommy and his friends… they’ve never gone this far.”

“And they never will again.”

Nancy was surprised by the earnest in her words. She was suddenly aware of their closeness. Nancy was practically draped across Robin to reach the laceration against her hairline. She was unbelievably warm, and entirely beautiful. It made Nancy’s stomach roll, something she attributed to the adrenaline.

Robin swallowed hard, turned her face away. She repeated, quieter this time. “You don’t even know me.”

“Give me a chance.” Nancy urged, placing a bandage carefully on something that was certain to scar. “Let me in, let me get to know you.”

She meant it genuinely. Robin was interesting, and she was wounded, and Nancy swelled with the need to learn everything about her. She shouldn’t have turned a blind eye, it shouldn’t’ have come to this before she gave in and peeled the girl from the sidewalk.

“You kind of owe it to me,” Nancy smirked, bumping the girls shoulder softly with her own “Being your knight and shining armor and everything.”

“Oh, come on, I could have handled it.” She smiled.

“Right, right, totally. I believe you.”

The two of them laughed, Robin’s hand pressing into her ribs, she flinched. “Oh, ouch.”

Nancy felt worry course though her, squeezing Robin’s knee. There was a need to protect her, a stranger that she wanted so desperately to know.  “I’ll go get some ice. And dinner. Dinner is a must.”

“You really don’t have to do that.” Robin said.

“Oh, I know, but I want to.” She lingered by the stairs, eyes soft with emotion. “I might not know you, Robin, but I know that you deserve kindness.”

#Robin Buckley #Nancy Wheeler #Ronance #Ronance fanfiction #Ronance fanfic #Stranger Things #Stranger Things fanfic #Nancy Wheeler x Robin Buckley #request

[swamp-chicken]

ethubs won against the ranchers in the shipping poll, so as promised here is a little ethubs somethin' somethin!' inspired very heavily by this insane video edit I made

your greatest fear, ethubs, 1657 words

It was full dark by the time Etho climbed out of the mines. Aside from an easily dispatched creeper lurking by the mine entrance, all was quiet. The boogey had already killed, and it was too early in the server for much chaos otherwise. Even the red name was likely engaged in domestic activities, building up his resources.

Etho took the stairs up to the base slowly.  Their morning in the Nether had taken a toll on him. First being chased by withers, then being chased by the boogey.

Etho had been on guard from the moment Scar approached, but Bdubs had no such instincts. He hadn’t even reacted when Scar started swinging. Instead, he had blinked at Scar in disbelief, confused and sick and fragile. Etho’s stomach dropped.

“He’s boogey!” Etho shouted. They ran. Etho shoved an ender pearl into Bdubs’ hand. “We have to do it,” he explained, and then he threw his own. 

There was the anxiety of throwing a pearl over lava, the brief ear-popping rush of nothing before he teleported to safety. But Etho didn’t stumble. He had his bow trained on Scar as soon as he landed. Bdubs appeared next to him with a crack. 

Etho shot, but Scar didn’t fall. “It’s all a big misunderstanding!” Scar called, his voice faint over the the sound of bubbling lava. 

“Wait— is he the boogey?” Bdubs asked. His face was pale. 

“He took two swings at me.” Etho said, catching Bdubs by the wrist. “We’re going.”

Etho hauled Bdubs to the portal as fast as he could, their feet dragging through the soul sand. 

Scar started pillaring up to them. “I swear, it’s all a miscommunication…”

Etho quickened his pace. He pulled Bdubs into the portal. The nether started swirling around them. Through the portal haze, Etho glimpsed Scar stumbling towards them, a piglin hot on his heels.

They were through.

“Move, move, move,” Etho demanded. His heart was pounding in his ears. Bdubs sprang away from the portal and Etho blocked it up behind him. “If he comes through, we hit his feet.”

“Seriously?” Bdubs asked, still a step or two behind. 

Etho’s hands were trembling where they held his sword. 

A long minute passed before Etho lowered his blade. Scar hadn’t followed. When he looked to his side, Bdubs was dutifully holding his own sword, eyes glassy with fever. Etho took a deep breath. 

They were alive. 

It had been too close a call for comfort, Etho mused, as he shouldered open the door to their fort. Bdubs was crouched in front of the stove, diligently feeding it wood. Etho set down his heavy pack with a thump.

Bdubs turned, already smiling. “Dinner’s almost ready!” he sing-songed. His voice was hoarse. “Successful mining trip?”

“Well… kinda,” Etho replied. He opened the pack and pulled out some gold ore. “For piglin trading.”

“No diamonds?”

“Didn’t have much luck,” Etho sighed.

“Listen, I know you’re old school, but you gotta try the lapis trick, dude,” Bdubs admonished, then started coughing.

“Hey,” Etho said. “Don’t cough all over our food. Let me take over.”

It was a sign of how poorly Bdubs felt that he didn’t even argue. He sat on the edge of the bed and Etho took over his place in front of the stove. The stew was bubbling nicely. Etho stirred it a few more times, then grabbed a pair of bowls and served up two portions, handing one over to Bdubs. 

Bdubs took the bowl but didn’t do much beyond stare at its contents. He was shivering, slightly. Maybe from the cold.

“Feeling okay?” Etho asked. There wasn’t anywhere to sit other than next to Bdubs on the bed, so Etho took the floor, awkwardly crossing his legs underneath him. 

Bdubs snorted, the sound thick with mucous. “Not really. Not much of an appetite, either.”

“You should eat,” Etho suggested. “Try and get your strength up. It’s been a stressful day.”

Bdubs spooned up a small amount of the stew, gingerly bringing it mouth and swallowing. “You can say that again. Couldn’t find any warped wart, Scar the boogey… oh, did I mention the worst alliance of all time?” 

Etho laughed. “They’re not that bad!”

“Sugarcane!” Bdubs wailed. “That’s what they’re bringin’ to the group, sugarcane?”

Etho laughed again, a deep belly laugh. It was nice, like this. Their warm little fortress. Bdubs all to himself. “But we’re the B.E.S.T., Bdubs.”

“Tango’s the best at being a pain in my butt, that’s the truth,” Bdubs griped 

There was a lull of silence, Etho happy to continue eating his stew. Bdubs didn’t touch his. The silence grew, extended past the time Bdubs would usually break it. Bdubs’ expression became more distant, a small furrow appearing in his brow. Etho cleared his throat. “Everything okay?” he asked.

Bdubs blinked, expression clearing. “What? Yeah, I was just thinking.”

Another beat of silence. Etho shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t like when Bdubs was silent. Usually he was open, easy to read. Except when he was the boogey. Etho frowned, pushed that thought aside. “Thinking…” he prompted.

Bdubs shrugged. “Yeah. Just… That was an interesting question you asked Skizz, earlier.” 

Skizz had showed up to their base, asking for an alliance, going on and on about loyalty. Etho didn’t know why the question had jumped into his head, but it had. 

“‘What do you fear the most,’” Etho recited to Bdubs, shoulders drawing up. He felt defensive all of a sudden. “He gave a good answer.” 

Bdubs hummed. He peered over at Etho. “It’s like a test, right? See how honest they are?” 

“Something like that,” Etho hedged. 

Bdubs scooped up some stew but didn’t eat it. He tipped the spoon and watched the stew fall back into the bowl. Etho watched with him, almost holding his breath. 

“What would be your answer?” Bdubs asked. 

Etho’s gaze darted back down to his own bowl. “What?”

“You know, the question you asked. What’s your greatest fear?”

Etho took a bite of the stew. It was a pretty good effort, considering the lack of ingredients on the server. Bdubs must have dug up some seasoning from somewhere. Etho savored the taste before he swallowed. “Like I said, I think most people would agree with Skizz.” 

Bdubs set his stew aside. “That’s not really an answer. What’s the matter, you don’t trust me?” He grinned at Etho, crookedly. 

Etho’s chest clenched in response.

Skizz had answered Etho’s question without hesitation. Bad things happening to the people I love. Etho’s had turned to look at Bdubs before he had even realized it. Only to find Bdubs already looking back at him, gaze warm and certain. 

Bad things happening to the people I love, Skizz had answered, full of assurance, raw with honesty. Etho couldn’t imagine doing the same. He was never sure of things, and even when he tried to speak the truth it came out of his mouth feeling like a lie. 

Bad things happening to the people I love. Etho had handed Bdubs the ender pearl, his hands shaking, so desperate he felt like his heart would shudder out of his body. 

Bad things happening to the people I love. 

Etho had never been good at saying how he felt.

Etho placed his bowl on the floor and stood. There was a blanket folded on one of the chests, rough-woven and full of holes. It was the best they had been able to scrape together, here in this remote, short-lived server. 

Etho unfolded the blanket and shook it out. When he turned back, Bdubs was watching him curiously, but without any sort of expectation. Without judgement. 

Etho swallowed. He leaned towards Bdubs and draped the blanket over his shoulders. “You’re cold,” Etho explained.

“A little,” Bdubs admitted, voice thick. 

Etho sat on the bed, positioned himself so Bdubs was pressed all along his side. “You should really try eating.” 

Bdubs huffed but leaned eagerly back into Etho’s warmth. “Fine.” He picked the bowl back up and tried another bite. “Wish I could taste it, though.”

“It’s good,” Etho assured.

Bdubs wiggled against him. “Of course it is! All due to my fantastic cooking prowess.” 

Etho wrapped an arm around Bdubs, pressed his face to Bdubs’ hair. Bdubs still smelled of home— of sunbaked earth, of moss, of long drowsy evenings full of laughter. His fragile little flower, sick and shivering but still brimming with life. 

Etho wasn’t good at saying how he felt, but maybe he should start trying more. For Bdubs. 

“Skizz’s answer,” Etho tried. “It’s the same as mine.”

It wasn’t much, but Bdubs still turned in his arms, looked up at him with a beatific smile stretching across his lovely face. “No wonder you were shaking like a leaf in the nether!” he crowed.

Etho willed down the redness in his face. “I wasn’t shaking,” he argued.

Bdubs chortled, returning to his stew. “No, no, certainly not. Not the great Etho! Well, you passed the test. You are an honest and true ally!” 

“And you?” Etho prodded. “What are you most afraid of, Bdubs?”

It wasn’t a question that Etho needed an answer too. He already trusted Bdubs too much. Illogically so. 

“Me? Oh, definitely endermen.” Bdubs answered, shoveling another bite into his mouth.

“You—oh?” Etho processed, then burst into surprised laughter.

“Wha’?” Bdubs mumbled, mouth full. He swallowed. “Why— Don’t laugh! I’m serious! One wrong look and they’ll kill you in two, three hits easy!” 

Etho laughed harder, pulled Bdubs closer to him. “You’re not afraid for me at all?”

“No, of course not!” Bdubs grumbled. “With your skills? You’d cut through all these guys no problem.”

Etho wanted to kiss the pout off Bdubs’ lips. He also didn’t want to get sick. He settled for pressing his lips against Bdubs’ flushed forehead. “I appreciate your faith in me,” he murmured, pulling back. 

“Yeah, well.” The corner of Bdubs’ mouth quirked up. “Thanks for keeping me alive so far.” 

#ethubs #my fic #nods. they are insane