#i feel like non benders might have brown eyes

[petricorah]

but what if...brown eyed sokka?

(trying some new style variations)

#im not sure if i love how this turned out but i am sharing anyway #sokka #i feel like non benders might have brown eyes #wheres the brown eyed love?? #atla #avatar #myart #hhhnnnng i want a new style im tryinggg

[kittybellestark]

Falling Apart At The Seams

Hey so this is the bio dad Tony fic I was working on !! 

Thank you so much to @peter-is-a-bean @superherotiger @thedumbestavenger @marvelous-1015 and @himaboroshi736 for helping me pick out a title !! I really appreciate the help and all the different opinions !

Summary: Tony was Iron Man and yet he was weak. He should have been able to pull it together, to find his child and raise them. It should have been easy, to be a good father. Yet he can’t bring himself to look for them, he doesn’t even know the sex. It was all his fault. He should have been stronger, better.

TW: PTSD, mention of Rape, Rape/Non-Con elements (no actual described rape), self victim shaming, alcohol, drugings

Read on AO3 Part 1/5

Tony had been kidnapped many times in his life.

It was old hat. Get kidnapped, sit and wait, find out the motive, what the ransom may be. Sit and wait some more. Eventually get released or found. Lather, Rinse, Repeat.

Of course there were a few kidnappings where Tony was underestimated just enough that he was able to sneak away, but that didn’t happen too often. Lucky for him, he was small enough to get out of tight situations, and smart enough to trick his captors.

But then it happened.

Mid 2000. He was at some party. Happy and Rhodey were there too. Tony had a little too much to drink and found an opportunity to leave with this girl, Mary, without his friends noticing. She was beautiful and smart, quick-witted and fun. Her eyes were a striking blue and hair golden brown. 

Tony shouldn’t have left with her. 

When he had woken up next, in bed, naked, it wasn’t much of a surprise. Sure, he couldn’t remember anything that transpired after he left the party and Mary had given him a drink, but that’s normal, really. Tony didn’t enjoy waking up with no memories but he did it to himself. 

What surprised him though, was that he was tied down to the bed. And Mary wasn’t actually a nice person, at all. She had wanted a child, and had found out her husband was infertile. Apparently he was not aware that he couldn’t have kids, but Mary felt that Tony looked close enough to him. 

It was January of 2001 when Tony was finally released. Mary was confident enough that she wouldn’t lose the child and that keeping Tony around was a waste of time. So after months of being chained down Tony was finally free. 

Tony was far too skinny, and he couldn’t help shaking, not unlike a chihuahua. He tried stepping back into his roll of CEO and pretending everything was normal and fine. He had built this sort of a reputation for himself hadn’t he? 

The world was more than aware that he was taken, that he wasn’t being held for ransom. It didn’t stop the rumours that he was on a bender, or in rehab though. Obie had stepped in as acting CEO and the world went on without him. But it’s not like he could really tell anyone what happened. He was a man, no one would believe it. He was Tony Stark, playboy extraordinaire, everyone would say he was asking for it.

And now there was a child in the mix. A child he didn’t want. A child he had no choice to help create. He couldn’t be responsible for that. Not when every time he thought about it he’d had such horrible panic attacks that Rhodey had thought he was having a heart attack. They were so bad he’d completely dissociate, or vomit, or pass out. Tony couldn’t deal with a child, he never wanted one, and certainly not one that he was forced to help create.

There was no reality where Tony could tell people what happened to him. Nothing that he could really do. Mary never came asking for child support, or wanting another child. So Tony was grateful. He hoped that the child was well taken care of. That it didn’t inherit it’s mother’s crazy, and that the father was a good person. Tony didn’t feel good about leaving the child in Mary’s care, but he couldn’t do anything about it. It was too much for him. 

As years went on Tony learned not to flinch at a persons touch. Of course when Afghanistan happened and all the progress he made in the years of his freedom vanished. He hated being touched, he hated being handed things. Parties were not a place he wanted to be and being left alone in a room with only one other person was enough to send it spiraling.

Tony lived with the overwhelming guilt of knowing he abandoned his child. He would try to talk himself up, search up Mary, find the kid and take it. But as soon as he was in front of the computer, with the search bar open and keyboard cursor blinking, his brain would take him right back. Back to the bed he was chained to and the woman with wild eyes overtop of him, laughing while he sobbed.

He wanted to care about the kid. Wanted to want the kid, but there was nothing. While Tony knows it deep in his heart Mary should not be a mother, he knows that he could never, ever be a father. There was a child out there, that he knew about and Tony was terrified of them, of knowing who they are, of looking at them and seeing Mary. Tony wouldn’t be a good father, not when he can’t even think about his kid. 

As Tony had to teach himself how to cope with things again, trying to be normal, he found himself in a relationship with Pepper. Holding hands and kisses and hugs were mostly okay. Pepper was more than happy for the relationship to move as slow as it had been. She was really expecting things to be more rushed from the get-go. Tony was taking baby-steps. He couldn’t overwhelm himself, not with Pepper.

Sometime after Ultron- after Tony nearly ruined the world- did he actually confide in Pepper. He didn’t plan to tell her anything. Tony didn’t ever have plans on saying a single word to anyone. He wouldn’t have said anything, if it wasn’t for some viral video of Spider-Man holding a little girl and telling her about how his babysitter had raped him too. Hearing Spider-Man say those words Tony knew he needed to tell Pepper.

Pepper cried. A lot. So did Tony. They were in their living room, sitting on the couch, a blanket over Pepper’s lap and an box of tissues in-between them as they sat face to face. Tony told her everything; the party, the alcohol, the way Mary smelled, being tied to the bed, hating himself more because of those months, being kept there even after there was a positive pregnancy test, how there was a child out there Tony could never face. Pepper cried as she held Tony, fingers curled in his hair reassuring him none of it was ever his fault. He never wanted to be taken, to be raped, and to have a child. She didn’t blame him for not wanting the kid, for not being able to think about them without spiraling completely. She told him he wasn’t selfish for trying to protect himself.

After that Spider-Man became Tony’s new obsession. Tony built him a better suit and watched video after video. Eventually he was able to find out Spider-Man’s identity and helped cover all of Spider-Man’s traps. 

What surprised Tony the most was that Spider-Man was a kid. His name was Peter Parker, he was 14 years old and top of his class at Midtown. He lived with his aunt, May Parker. His uncle, Ben, was murdered in front of him, and his parents, Diane and Jacob Parker died in a plane crash when he was 6. Previous to 2007 there were no files on any of the Parker’s, no tax files, no bank accounts or government ID’s. They were a mystery, but Tony didn’t really see the need to push much farther in the past. By the looks of all the FBI documentation, it was more than likely for their own safety. It was strange though, how the FBI was the one to deal with the case against Steven (Skip) Wescott, and they did it discreetly. Sexual assault cases in New York City were rarely ever dealt with by the FBI.

Now Tony needed to find a reason to approach Spider-Man. He didn’t really know whether it would be better to approach Peter as himself or as the masked vigilante. Tony just wanted to thank the teen. Sure Peter didn’t do very much, not really technically to help Tony. But hearing him talk to the girl, it helped him talk to Pepper. If a 14 year old can do it, so can Tony Stark. And it wasn’t like Tony was going to broadcast it to the world, he just told his long-term partner. People could believe a babysitter hurting doing such horrible things to a child, but they wouldn’t believe Tony. 

So he needed to thank Peter. Not because he was grateful that a child went through the same things Tony did, but because he was willing to share. Spider-Man didn’t even care that there were camera’s on him, his focus was on comforting that little girl. Who knows how many people he helped, Tony could only hope it was more than just him.

Peter was 15 before Tony finally built up the nerve to approach him. He was just a kid, who had bad things happen to him, and was now helping others. So what if Tony was scared to see him?  Tony just needed the perfect cover story. And he needed to make sure the new spider suit would keep Peter safe. That’s all. Don’t approach until you know that everything is perfect.

Tony was in the Parker apartment. That was fine. May Parker was very nice. Surprised that Tony Stark was at her door, but then suddenly not surprised that it was about Peter. She was a lovely woman, invited him in and told some stories from when Peter was younger. 

The panic that started to set in as the time ticked on before Peter arrived back from school was starting to eat at Tony. He could feel his stomach twisting and throat starting to burn. Maybe he should have had Happy come up with him. He was okay. Tony was in control. 

Finally Peter arrived before Tony was able to make some cheap excuse about an emergency at SI. Seeing Peter was difficult. This was Tony’s first time since 2000 where he willingly put himself in a situation with a child. 

Tony might actually throw up.

Peter had bright brown eye’s, nearly golden in colour and dark brown hair. Of course Tony had seen the government picture of Peter and school photos, but now it was a lot. Peter was a real person and Tony was not prepared for this. 

“I was just talking to your aunt about the internship you applied for. With the September Foundation. Youngest candidate to ever apply, and also the most qualified. So I wanted to come and meet you personally, Mr. Parker. You mind if we talk?”

“Yeah, no, yeah, of course.”

Tony couldn’t believe the starry-eyed wonder that Peter had. The wide-eyed innocence. How could this kid who has seen so much tragedy be able to look like nothing horrible has ever happened? It didn’t make much sense. 

Peter led Tony to his bedroom, and Tony maintained his space by the door. It said a lot to him, how Peter was okay with having an older man in his room, yet Tony couldn’t really handle being alone with anyone for long periods of time.

“I’m going to cut to the chase. You’re Spider-Man right? I’m not here to harass you about it or anything. I’ve covered you’re tracks for you, actually. Deleted some CCTV footage, made sure no connection existed. Also made you a new suit, it’s got all the bells and whistles.”

And there was the distrust. The squinted eyes, locked jaw and crossed arms that screamed that Peter was uncomfortable and that he did not believe this offer. Peter looked much older now, all signs of youthful innocence gone, now just a cagey-tired kid who didn’t know what to do. Tony tried to make himself appear smaller, less grandios, he knows that’s what he would like. 

“What’s the catch?”

“No catch. You inadvertently helped me out, I’m just repaying the debt.”

Peter hummed and paced the room. Tony tried to make sure that if Peter wanted to leave, the door wasn’t completely blocked off.

“Mr. Stark, I never applied for any September Foundation internship thing. It doesn’t even let you try and apply if you aren’t of age. This clearly won’t look like an actual internship, May will see right through it. There is obviously something else you aren’t telling me.”

Smart kid. Already aware of the holes in Tony’s plan. Willing to call him out. Tony liked him, for a teen vigilante. That’s all. Arms length and everything.

“You’ll come to the tower twice a week. I’ve talked to Nat, she saw your hand-to-hand combat. It’s alright, but sloppy. She’s going to make sure you can protect yourself.”

It took a moment before Peter made up his mind. He even turned his back to Tony to move the clearly home made computer on his desk. What a big sign of trust! To allow an older man into his room and then turn his back, Tony couldn’t imagine being okay with doing the same thing with any woman other than Pepper.

“Sure,” Peter nodded, “Yeah, with the Black Widow? I’d be a fool not to accept that, she’s pretty awesome.”

Tony couldn’t help but laughing. He nodded his head towards the Iron-Man poster on the wall, “Clearly not as great as Iron Man.”

Peter laughed. His smile lit up the whole room.

“It’s not like I ever thought you’d be in my room, Mr. Stark. They’re coming down as soon as you leave.”

“No, no you can’t now that I’ve seen them. I’ll fire you if you take them down.”

“I’ll quit first.”

Peter was a quick learner. He also wormed his way in to the Avenger’s lives. It surprised Tony, how Peter was only ever suppose train with Nat twice a week, now he had lab days and would show up sporadically. The teen had inserted himself into everyone’s lives and he fit. Spider-Man was safer out on the streets and the Avenger’s were more than happy to help Peter however they could.

Tony was blown away from how smart Peter was. There were only a handful of times where Bruce and Tony had to slow down and explain things to Peter. It was far more common that Peter would beat them to the answer, or simplify things, and even correct their mistakes.  

“You know, if I wasn’t there went you went missing back in 2000 I’d think Peter was your kid.”

Rhodey laughed and clapped Tony on the back, and that was it. Suddenly Tony couldn’t breathe. His wrists were bleeding and the metal of the bedframe was creaking. His eyes were swollen from the constant tears the never seemed to stop streaming down his face. Mary was sitting beside him, her hands on the beginning of a growing stomach. She just wanted to make it through the second trimester before Tony was allowed to go. Her eyes were far too bright and unhinged.

“Tony, Tones, you’re okay. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Peter is an August baby. He’s August. Not April. The dates don’t line up. It’s fine. He’s the son of Diane and Jacob Parker.”

Tony was leaning over, knees to his chest, hands flat on the floor. He’s touching the floor, not a dirty old mattress. Not handcuffs or a bedframe. Just the cool, hardwood flooring. 

“Tones, what are you talking about? Are you trying to tell me you have a kid out there?”

So Tony told him. Everything. How he left the party, what happened during all those months. Tony talked about how he discovered Spider-Man, and how he just wanted to thank Peter for sharing his story, because it helped. He wanted to make sure Peter was safe, and this was the only way Tony knew how to re-pay him.

Months went on and it felt like a constant balance of ‘this is too much, I am not enough,’ for Tony. With Rhodey knowing what happened, it helped a little bit. Tony didn’t feel like he was always suffocating in guilt. Of course it didn’t stop Tony from feeling like he was drowning all the time, from the memories of what happened, but he could share his guilt with Rhodey and Pepper, and it helped a little. 

Actually it helped a lot. Whenever the team would call Peter ‘Stark Junior’ as a joke. Or when Thor came back and saw Peter immediately dubbing him as ‘Stark-Son.’ Rhodey and Pepper were incredible at talking him down from the edges of his panic attacks. Having people- his people- know what happened helped a lot more than Tony ever thought they would. They believed him. Rhodey and Pepper believed him when he said he didn’t want anything to happen, that he hadn’t asked for it. They didn’t tell him it was his fault or push him to find the mystery kid, but instead they listened. It helped. 

Tony didn’t ever think he could get to this point in his life. Not after 2000. He didn’t think he would be able to trust so many people, or talk to about everything. It was nice, to feel some semblance of normal. Not that anything could be considered normal, but learning not to keel over from the weight of everything made it feel more normal. Spiraling at the sight of blue eyes or being near women and seeing children on the streets was not normal.

But Peter in Tony’s lab was normal. And so was Peter in the communal kitchen, his head in the cupboards looking for a snack. It was so normal it ached. Tony hated that he could have this mentor-mentee relationship with Peter and he couldn’t even handle the thought of his own child.

“Hey, you’re no ostrich, get your head out of the metaphorical sand, food is on it’s way up right now.”

“Bad analogy, Mr. Stark, I would have gone with the hand in the cookie jar thing. Y’know because food. It was the obvious one.”

Peter pulled his head out of cupboards a lop-sided smile lighting up his eyes. Even after knowing Peter for nearly a year, Tony was still blown away by Peter’s optimism, and his snark. 

“Right, yes, my apologies for not choosing the right analogy. Next time I’ll use the right one.” 

The smile on Peter’s face dropped. He looked over to the elevator, his head shaking. “No, no, no. That’s not food, I’m sorry Mr. Stark.”

The elevator doors opened and there stood May Parker with an FBI agent. Neither of them seemed very happy, which definitely wasn’t good. Tony had made sure that there was no way Peter could get in trouble for being Spider-Man, and there was no way the government would find out that are one in the same. Tony did everything right, didn’t he? Peter should have been safe. Everything should be fine.

Taglist: dm/ send an ask to be added !

@peter-is-a-bean @friendshapedcastiel @dead-inside-pt2 @they-were-cloudsinmycoffee @parkersjiggle @7peternotparker7 @thatonecrackheadshipper @kevinthewoman @faline4you @lynxshinon @narutoyaoifan @pastelwheeler @thecrazymarvelfan @bonjour-gays @thebestqueenoftheworld

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@marvelous-1015 @himaboroshi736

#irondad #peter parker #tony stark #marvel #mcu #spiderson #spiderman #marvel cinematic universe #avengers #bio dad tony stark #angst #hurt to comfort #irondad and spiderson #spider-man #Iron Man

[outoftimewriting]

Imagine (Son of Hades! Percy; Godswapped! Big Three's kids) Son of Neptune AU (2/7) or (7/12)

Hello! Before reading, check the PJO AU and the TLH AU - the links are on the masterpost - because they are essential to this one. Don't forget to check the warnings before reading. Review and make suggestions! And have a good reading :))

TW: This post in special has sexual harassment, racist slurs, and mentions of whipping.

Perseus wakes up in a semi-destroyed building full of wolves with a black ax in one hand and a Warhammer in the other. And that's just the beginning of the worst months of his life - or the only months of his life he can remember.

Then everything hurts - too much, like his skin is melting from his bones and his eyes are being gouged out. His skin feels like it's melting, and he promptly passes out.

He has no idea of who he is - except his name, but he might just know it because the wolf woman told him - and the talking wolves don't know - or can't tell him anything else. Either way, Perseus is getting nowhere.

Oh yes - he is also pretty sure wolves aren't supposed to shapeshift. And rope you into training - which, he must've been a bodybuilder or something because he is pretty good at wrestling.

Shoving the wolves into the ground and destroying the monsters that try and defy Lady Lupa's pack are the highlights of his week.

Lady Lupa is... - Lupa is everything he knows. She is the one who, for some reason, let's him stay. She tells him about the gods and the monsters - about how she found him in her doorstep after her home was sacked by Earthborn.

How he must be the sign of the Olympus that Lady Venus promised her. The one who comes to help.

Perseus doesn't know her - he doesn't know who she is or if she is telling the truth. But he has well-trained powers that he has no idea how to utilize, nowhere to go and no way of searching for his family - no one knows who he is, except for his first name (which sounds wrong).

And he tried to run away once - it didn't end well, because monsters are immortal - and everywhere.

Lupa tells him he had a curse upon him, so he has to train himself all over again now that it's gone. It doesn't sound like the truth, but he prefers Lady Lupa's carefully crafted half-truths than sleeping in the streets.

Lady Lupa teaches him - and tells him to expect the signal of the gods. They will guide him - even if they give him no answers.

Perseus doesn't like the gods much. They've left him here - which is a good place, but not his home, wherever it is - with no idea of who he is or what to do - except train and learn.

Mother Lupa - as most call her in the Wolf House - educates him like one would an unruly puppy. She corrects everything - from the way he addresses the gods at evening prayers to the way he sits - and he obeys.

Because in the midst of all those wolves? Perseus is just another puppy. So he sits and read hours of Vergil, Ovid and Horace in ancient Latin out loud - even if he would prefer not to.

Sadly - he does not have an opinion. Lady Lupa won't hesitate on using her whip on him. Oh yes, she has a whip - a black whip, which she uses to educate them. His back hurts sometimes when he rests upon the cold floor.

He prays to anyone - his godly parent - who is some Underworld God if his hold on shadows and stone means anything - or a friend, someone who's missing him, anyone really, for them to come and gives him answers.

It doesn't happen.

So he trains and he trains. He has no idea how much time has passed - how much time he has been slashing and cutting and killing, how much time he has heard every detail of Julius Caesar crusade through Europe.

It's still cold when the gods send their signal - they send him a maiden. She holds her hand to him like he is an old friend - and he goes.

She makes him only one question - "Do you want peace or answers, Perseus? Choose carefully, for no path will be easy, but the harvest comes for those who plant the seeds" - and when he answers, she climbs to his back and flowers create a path in the ground.

She doesn't talk anymore. He follows the trail and the girl threads her fingers through his hair, humming to herself a melody only she is able to hear.

In the way, there are two gorgons. Lady Lupa taught him about them. It's an easy battle - until he discovers that they just don't die. They keep reforming, like evil pottery.

They attack again and he picks up his ax to continue racking them into bits, but she tightened her fingers in his hair - like one would steer a horse.

So before they reform, he runs. Perseus runs - with a beyond beautiful maiden on his back (which would be really uncomfortable, if he wasn't so pissed with the gods for giving exactly no answers) doing nothing but play with his hair and eat granola bars - and he gets to a military outpost.

At least, it's what it looks like. There's a wall who must be at least 20 feet high. Its not a normal wall - because he can see eyes in its crevices, looking at him.

Perseus is really tired. There are people there - he is seeing them, do they think he is stupid? - and he has a person in his back.

So he kills both gorgons again with his stone spikes - he is pretty sure the guys that aren't opening the doors can deal with them when they eventually reform - and shadow travels inside.

He doesn't do this often - it takes a lot out of him and he might end up stuck in the wall if he is too tired, but he is too angry to care.

Perseus could've destroyed their door. He should've, really. It might have stopped those people from surrounding him with weapons.

These people - the people looming over him now that he crossed the barrier, who are using togas just like him, so different but so familiar - would've let him die for nothing. Perseus growls - a bad habit he picked up living only with wolves for an undetermined amount of time.

He should kill every single one of them. He should open the ground - and let it swallow them, let their bones turn to dust, return their weapons to molten metal.

But the maiden tightens her fingers in his hair, and he obeys - because Perseus has been well trained, and he doesn't bend.

"Who are you?!" A boy with a bow asks harshly, and Perseus wants him to rip him apart - he is so done. Perseus is a Roman - is what Lupa taught him - and Roman wolves don't roll over.

"Lady Lupa sent me." They don't look like they believe him, but they take him to their leader.

He feels like an alien - behind the wall, there's a whole new world - hundreds of people stare at him with a mix of fear, disdain, and curiosity. It feels familiar.

Perseus is reluctant to leave his weapons with a statue - specially while entering the territory of people who won't protect him and might try to kill him, but he is not one for scandals - so he thanks Lord Terminus, and goes on.

They enter the Senate after walking for about an hour - his head held high, even with the extra weight in his back - in the middle of the session. Lady Lupa would find this appalling.

Everyone turns to them - the tall black muscular man, dressed in a dark red toga, with a woman in his back also clad in a toga - they look like normal citizens, and yet, somehow, completely foreign.

Their escorts - a black girl no older than fourteen and the archer, that must be around his age - kneel to the Praetor - but as soon as they start explaining, they are interrupted.

Their promagistrate - a man Perseus will later learn is named Justus - looks at them once and shrieks.

"Lord Pluto!" They call him, and the whole Senatus knee down "Lady Ceres!"

The goddess he didn't recognize comes down of his back, chuckling to herself. All gods are mad - Perseus thinks, but keeps stoic in front of the government of this Rome copycat, else they kill him for disrespect or something.

"Rise!" She starts "You're almost correct, child of Justitia. For I am Ceres, but this is not Lord Pluto."

The promagistrate seems offended with Perseus somehow - like it's his fault the man is an idiot.

"This is his only mortal son and my daughter's champion, Perseus of Styx. He has been under Lady Lupa's tutelage in her command." This was new.

So his father was the king of the dead himself - which was not surprising. But he was apparently Lady Proserpina's champion - a goddess who left him with Lady Lupa, apparently with his father's, Lady Venus' and Lady Ceres' approval.

Perseus (apparently, of Styx) wants to tear Olympus apart. He wants a lot of things - but for now, he shall observe and do what it's told of him.

Ceres leaves him under the "care" of the Romans. Immediately, the Praetor takes him to be interrogated.

He tells her the truth - or at least, what he can bender: He has been with Lady Lupa as long as he remembers. Yes, he is trained. He can control earth, shadows, metal. Sometimes, vines and skeletons. No, he doesn't have a last name. No, he doesn't know Jason Grace.

In return, the woman (a daughter of Bellona with brown skin that he feels he should know) explains where he is.

This is Nova Roma - and they are in Jupiter's Capitol, also known as the First City of Twelve, where is localized their Forum Romanum - which is composed by the Comitium (where the Senatus is localized), the Pluton Denar Domum (their bank) and a temple for all the gods - decorated with gardens and founts mainly used by the politicians in session and augurs.

The other non-military districts are Juno's Urbs, where most families live; Minerva's Scientia et Quaerere Centrum, which contains schools, colleges, libraries, and research centers; Phoebus Apollo's Salutem Receptum, a whole district for health care and who mainly takes care of cleaning the city; and Vesta's Forum Boarium, where the temples reside, including the Hearth of Rome, with their sacred fire.

Then there the indirectly of military nature; Ceres' Agris, fields who produce all food of the city; Mercury's Via, where communication and post are handled - also, the main place for entertainment; Vulcan's Caminus, the forges and armory; and Neptune's Militiarum Equestri, battle horses, pegasi, hellhounds, elephants, wolves and hounds.

There's also the military ones: Venus Victrix's Feminam Lorem ad Bellum, the training camp for girls; Mars Ultor's Masculum Lorem ad Bellum, the training camp for boys; and Diana's Venari, a forest they use to hunt monsters.

Praetor Arellano shows him around. The praetor shouldn't be doing that, but he seems to be important enough - he got here with a goddess in his back after all. His step-grandmother?

"Everyone is involved in the war effort - Everything for Rome. Everyone capable is obliged to join the training as soon as they're eight. When you're ready, you join the Legion, for fifteen years, in any capacity. Some - the ones with specific talents - join the field healers or the forges."

"Most join the legionnaires. Later in life, some go to college - training to farm, teach, own business, plan buildings, weave, research, write, go exclusively into politics, or become doctors - for either animals or people. Some never leave until they absolutely have to - it's an honor to serve Rome."

"You are neither a son or legacy of any construction or any health deity, so you'll go directly to be tested by Mars Ultor's Masculum Lorem ad Bellum - to see if you are qualified to be a soldier or if you need to undergo more training, and how much."

"A fight, Praetor?" He asks, as respectfully as Lupa indoctrinated in him, even if he hated this situation from the start.

"It's part of it, yes. But a fighter is not a soldier - you'll be expected to know rhetoric and show resilience, to be able to think and strategize. Put on a good performance - the Centurions choose which Cohort you go."

Then, she explained the Legion and its Five Cohorts - and the Centurions - before leaving him with one of his escorts from earlier. He doesn't think it matters much - if one of the Praetors is from Third Cohort and their last Praetor, from Fifth, while the Consul himself was from Fourth - what does it matter?

The guard seems uncomfortable in his presence - as if she knows exactly who he is. She introduces herself - Hazel Levesque, daughter of Jupiter. And part of the Fifth Cohort - mainly because of the previous Praetor - the one who's missing.

Her buddy, the archer, - Frank Zhang, unclaimed - is also part of the Fifth Cohort. But it's not him they meet - it's a boy way too familiar to be a coincidence - three times today.

"You know me, don't you? You know where I come from?" He snarls, and the boy denies it.

Shadows start curling at his feet - and he's told later that his eyes darken to black from their usual forest green. Perseus is a second away from killing the little lying gremlin when Praetor Arellano shows - and he immediately reverts to parade rest.

She doesn't ask - and he doesn't volunteer an answer. He leaves the guy trembling - and flustered, for some reason - and goes with the Praetor to his "test".

Hazel is having a very bad year. A very bad life, to be true, but mostly, a bad year.

She died, and she was walking aimlessly for years - until she met a boy. She thought, initially, that was a god - for his beauty was insurmountable.

He talked with her - he was named Perseus Jackson. He was powerful and kind - but still a mortal, so she latched into him. Hazel isn't a good person - her mother always told her that - and she used his kindness to drawn just a little of his powers. Just enough.

When the Doors opened, she was strong enough to escape - even if she left Perseus drained for a week, apparently. Hazel didn't go far - she got caught by Ceres.

Ceres - who was in her greek form - took pity of her and brought her to Hazel's father and stepmother, pleading for her usefulness in the war to come. The dead aren't their domain - but as long as Pluto didn't discover it, they would turn a blind eye.

Her brother - who was the first bridge between the two demigod settlements - took her to Nova Roma. She adapted - she learned about the ending of segregation and the world they now lived - and made friends - Frank and Jason.

But she never forgot the boy who gave her the chance, the chance to be more than the cursed child Marie Levesque told her she was. Her curse is supposed to be washed away by a descendant of Pluto.

Perseus gave her a chance, and now he is probably her salvation from this poisoned existence. He is in Nova Roma, and both Hazel and Nico are too ungrateful, too proud, too involved in the gods' plans to help him.

Her father's curse rang true - for children of Zeus aren't supposed to control unaltered energy through minerals. Metal is not theirs to use - and Hazel is paying the price.

Perseus does well in his test - so well, the First Cohort wants him. He is not generally rude, but the way Octavian - their apparent Centurion and Leader of the Augurs (the priests of Apollo) - calls him "Excellent, for a colored one with a graecus name" makes him mad.

So he rejects Octavian - no one gets to mock his name, the slur for greeks matched with the blatant racism almost makes him clock the guy in the face - and, since no other Centurion wants to go against the white supremacist, he joins the Fifth Cohort.

"Well, there's the place for filth, anyway. What could you expect from a nigger ape, like that one?"

If in the training that followed, he left Octavian unconscious - well, everyone turned a blind eye. Perseus saw the Praetor laughing discreetly from where she was polishing her spear.

He is given a bunk to sleep on, a probatio tablet and a date - it's March 18th, 2012. He remembered that, when he ran away from the House of the Wolf, was still January's first week.

Almost three months for the gods to bother with him, and he has no guesses how much time he is missing. Did his family give up on him? Did he have a family?

Perseus doesn't know. He spends the next weeks following the army's routine - wake up with dawn with the horn, muster, morning prayers, then the morning drills - stretching, an obstacle circuit of three miles with a lake in the middle and running five times around Ceres' Agri.

After the drills - which Perseus and Hazel bond over hating, because there's a lake - they go to breakfast, then classes - for the younger ones. Perseus is old enough (and did well in the school tests), so he has a free slot where he allots his power training - under Praetor Arellano's watchful gaze, as she tries and brings him to his full potential.

Reyna (as he is allowed to call her during free time) also does power training - she has a different kind of charmspeak - the kind that makes people motivated or defeated. She can make armies have a burst of energy, or drop-down with exhaustion - possibly. Nova Roma has very few wars nowadays.

There's lunch, then weaponry training - where he kicks Octavian's (and all of his little friends who look down on Perseus because of his name, his lack of family or his skin color) ass with pleasure every single day - followed by weapon cleaning - which always takes forever because Perseus has both an ax and a giant Warhammer.

On Wednesdays, they have horse and pegasi riding. Both Perseus and Hazel have it slightly different - she mounts a venti, Tempest and he mounts a hellhound, Spot. On Fridays, they have hunting lessons in Diana's Venari - which always end up with some Apollo's child or legacy waving their victory in everybody's face - except for that one time where Frank and Perseus joined forces and won in an hour.

At four p.m. every day, those who did well enough get to have two hours of free time before evening prayers, which can either be followed by dinner or competitions - wrestling and gladiator games are really popular on weekends.

Then, if it's Sunday, they are allowed to go to Mercury's Via to drink, party, dance, go to karaoke - whatever, if they're over fourteen. It seems young - but Perseus has seen younger kids, at the training camps, sneaking in wine.

If it's not Sunday - they are free to do anything if they don't drink and are in bed by 21h30. You are only excused of the routine if you are escalated for border patrol - generally twenty different people every day. Perseus's patrols are on Thursdays - because Reyna loves him. Octavian's are on Sundays - they're just not on Saturdays because he has Augur functions and is excused of everything on Saturday.

Saturdays are days of prayer - there's no training and no feasting. They go to the temples and see the Vestal Virgins - a custom Perseus though would be outdated by now - and do basic chores - like washing their togas and sheets, mending their leathers, or airing the blankets.

When Hazel's brother leaves, he actually bonds with the girl - over being a child of the Big Three, of having big expectations thrust upon them - and consequently, with Frank - who is also his bunkmate. They spend their free time on the small fountain that overlooks the aqueduct, just in front of the Vesta Temple.

It's weird to see the Vestal Virgins - they are six girls between 8 and 24, wearing white stolas and veils, of incredible beauty and vowed to modesty and chastity. They spent their days tending the fire and giving blessings, cleaning the temple, and visiting the Senatus.

They didn't choose to be priestesses of Vesta - Vesta herself chooses them, and they have to leave their families and vow their lives away for thirty years. The other priests are there of free will - they never join the Legion, if they choose to serve a specific god.

Perseus goes to his father's, Lady Proserpina's and Lady Ceres' temples regularly - if only to ask for answers. His father's priests treat him as royalty - which, to them, he probably is. There are not even legacies of Pluto, as far as they know.

Every Sunday, Perseus goes to the Comitium - while people don't generally like him, he is good in rhetoric, and well respected for a probatio - so they hear him. He is good at politics. Reyna looks like he is measuring him, when he rises to debate - like he can be the next Praetor instead of the campaigning Octavian - who the Senatus is divided into loving or hating his guts.

Perseus is happy - or something. He hates not having memories - not knowing who he is, who his mother is, pains him. He has friends - Frank, Hazel, even Reyna and Dakota, his Centurion, who lives half-drunk in wine most of the time - and a life.

It doesn't feel like his life. By the third week of his staying in Nova Roma, he starts having dreams - a blonde boy, doing everything Perseus is doing now. He is afraid of telling anyone. Perseus is already called slurs by Octavian and his hateful friends - he doesn't want to attract attention now that he is settling.

By Reyna's pictures, he finally names the blonde in his dreams. It's Jason Grace.

Jason Grace is, for lack of a better word, graceful. He is loved by everyone - so different from Perseus, who is more feared then liked - and a troublemaker - if the vision of him being whipped in Mars Ultor's training camp is to be believed.

Romans don't hesitate in corporal punishment on children. Nor in adults, either - misdemeanors are punished harshly. Perseus is lucky Octavian has no direct authority over him - the number of times he put him on his ass would get Perseus bleeding on the floor for days.

However, he didn't escape the whip completely. In his fourth week on Nova Roma, Hazel is disrespectful to one of Octavian's friends - he called her a "good piece of monkey meat" and touched her ass, so she kneeled him in the balls. Reyna is out on a mission - and the guy just happens to be Questor Cicero.

Questor Cicero is twenty-eight - and everybody believes him when he tells them Hazel kneeled him without reason - a grave offense because it can affect his descendants. Hazel gets sentenced - by the Consul, in absentia of the Praetor - to a hundred lashes.

Everyone is obliged to watch - and neither Perseus nor Frank can last after she sobs. They rise from the crowd and volunteer to take the rest of her punishment. The executioner of it - a girl named Domitia - is surprised and asks why when they rise up to take Hazel's place - not a lot volunteer, generally older siblings or partners.

Hazel protests, while she is taken by a daughter of Aesculapius, Lavinia - "No, Perseus, no, it's my fault, Frank, I can take it, please!" - But he doesn't care to hear. Hazel is a child, and something stirs inside of his memory - No child shall suffer under his watch. - He wants to stop Frank - the boy is only sixteen - but there's no stopping the guy about his best friend.

"She could take it. I just don't want to see her, or anyone I care about, do it. She is too young. A child - one that shouldn't feel the injustices of life."

"That's my best friend. I won't let her pay for something she didn't do, and I won't let Perseus do this alone."

It's rational enough that no one will see weakness when she starts whipping them. Domitia is a good girl - they become a sort of friends after it, but Perseus can never understand why the daughter of Nemesis would dispense unfair punishments.

Perseus endure the whole thing awake - the forty-five lashes, under the jeers of Octavian and his friends - and they walk out of the stage supporting one another, before collapsing in a pool of their own blood, in the arms of Caelius - the youngest of Apollo's offspring working on the hospital.

They take both of them to the UTI - he doesn't remember a thing. He wakes up three days later - they aren't allowed to use any magic to heal him, or anesthetics to numb his pain. He suffers for a week, while his godly blood slowly heals him.

Hazel sits by their bedside - he and Frank are in the same room - her own back fully healed by now - and tells him stories about how Dakota kicked Octavian's ass in training in their name, or just plays with his hair. Sometimes, when she thinks he is asleep, she cries - it's heartbreaking.

Reyna comes back by the time Frank is out of the hospital - Perseus moved to much and his stitches came out - and is fueled by rage. This kind of punishment is hers to give - and with through interrogation before - and she has been trying to eradicate them for years.

She does insist on an interrogation with Aurum and Argentum - perhaps because she knows what a sweetheart Hazel is. She uncovers the whole story - how Cicero called her names and sexually harassed her - and the guy is stripped off his post and exiled - sexual harassment is a crime punishable by lashing, but together with lying to a court of law and supplanting his direct superior - oh well, he is not coming back for the next five years.

With Hazel's absolving, the doctors are allowed to heal them with magic - but it's too late. They can repair the nerves and muscles, take away all the pain - but the flesh will remain scarred.

Their backs are now a crisscross of scar tissue - it's a reminder of Nova Roma's failings - and he revels on taking his shirt off to drills, even if Frank is ashamed of it, for some reason.

Praetor Arellano thinks "Perseus' loyalty to the Roman Law and his Cohort" is enough to give him an SPQR tattoo instead of his probatio tablet. He didn't cry when they put the mark of his father on his arm - just later, in his bunk, for the eleven-year-old that was tattooed together with him.

After the tattoo, Perseus discovers he has money. Like, really, lots of money in the bank - which is named after his father, who is their patron god - and apparently filled his account with denars. Perseus solves to donate part of it - and part of it he keeps because his wages as a foot soldier are meager.

Hazel, on the other side, is brimming with remorse - and protectiveness. She will do her absolute best to protect Perseus Jackson - this is the second time he saves her. She can't tell him anything - but she can make his life as easy as possible.

Hazel dreams about Frank - Frank, and a terrible price that is a piece of wood - and she thinks she likes him, even if he is older and braver than she'll ever be.

It's June 18th - and Perseus has been in Camp for three months when the war games take an unexpected turn.

Frank is leading the Fifth Cohort - Dakota is hangover somewhere - and their battle formation is impeccable. They also have the two biggest powerhouses - Perseus and Levesque.

Hazel - while a child of Jupiter - is unable to fly - or any air or climate control. Her power lies on energy - publicly, she controls lighting and thunder - and can get bolts to basically incinerate whole canons or dismantle phalanges.

Perseus, however, can raise skeleton soldiers to fight for him - and stone spikes to block his enemies. His vines are of no use - the First Cohort has two sons of Ceres who out-do him any day. He can also use the shadows to confuse their rivals or make the ground tremble - under the cost of their own stability.

Frank is very proud of having such powerful and amazing people as friends. He didn't expect Perseus of Styx, the boy who didn't have to fight to be recognized - the one who came with a goddess at his back and muscles in his arms and a father on his blood - to be friends with Frank.

He is a very okay guy, you see. Frank had - has - three best friends, but no one openly dislikes him. He doesn't have someone - he has no use for quick tumbles under the cloak of darkness, and that is all people like him can ever have.

But he is not like Perseus or Jason. He doesn't defy Octavian. He was too anxious to muster the courage to volunteer to take Hazel's punishment alone - Perseus had to do it first.

He is not like them. He isn't anything like his mother. Frank feels happy, at least, that at those little things like war games he has better strategies than anyone else. It was Perseus who motivated him to take the lead while Dakota is otherwise incapable - under Hazel's cheerful applause.

This time, there are elephants involved - Perseus loves elephants - and they burst through their rival's doors - the 12th consecutive victory for the Fifth Cohort since Perseus arrived.

Gwen - the only openly ficatrix girl that Perseus knows, a Jewish daughter of Venus Genetrix - dies probably by Octavian's hand - and doesn't stay dead.

This evokes Lord Mars Ultor - who claims Frank, gives him a quest to find Letum and ropes Perseus into it - "Your father's domain, your responsibility" - so they choose Hazel as a third member - because who else - and get in a car to go to Alaska.

Before that, for Dakota's negligence, the Fifth Cohort is passed to newly-coined Centurion Frank - with Hazel as his second in command, while Gwen - who is not respected because of her preferences - steps down the second position to go study - apparently, she wants to be a teacher.

They have to be back by June 24th - or die. That gives them six days - it's at least two days going and two days back from San Francisco to Alaska, so they have two extra days to localize and rescue Letum.

Hazel, Frank, and Perseus battle the karpoi in Mendocino - this time, they're easily defeated, because no one leaves Hazel alone. Frank actually kills a lot of them - under the sheer appreciation of both his very supportive friends.

They see Polybotes army - and run away in their car, which crashes in the front of the R.O.F.L.

Perseus IM's Reyna - he thinks it necessary, for she is their Praetor, their leader. Hazel is right by his side - and then goes to call her brother - which he doesn't stick around for, examining the drachmas - the weird graecus' coins that Perseus recognizes

Iris remembers Perseus of someone. He doesn't know who, or why, but that night, for the first time in months, he doesn't dream of Jason Grace. He dreams of red hair spilled into the snow, blond curls around his fingers, a mechanic leg whirring in his ear, a spear coated with blood, shoes with wings and pan pipes - and wakes up crying for a past he doesn't remember.

He hugs the tie-dye bag against his chest - and cries. Perseus doesn't care - his chest literally aches with missing, for someone he doesn't know.

Frank doesn't ask questions when he finds Perseus crying. Frank cried a lot when he first got to Nova Roma.

"Are you missing someone?"

"I'm missing everything" And that's how Frank discovers Perseus doesn't remember anything at all.

Everything spills up - Lady Lupa's house, the dreams about Jason, the way he just dreamed of what could possibly be his friends, and what if he was a graecus like Octavian said - and Frank does not judge him.

He knows what it is to have a gigantic secret pressing upon his shoulders - and he has known Perseus for three months now. He knows Perseus is a trustworthy person.

"We'll discover who you are - but if you don't like it, we won't judge you. It doesn't matter what your past life has been like, it doesn't matter if you're a graecus - you're one of us now."

Because Frank is the absolute best - Perseus can't think of a friendship he deserves less than Frank's.

They trade stories about their rage against the gods - things they would never be able to utter at home. Their lives, their insecurities, their shared hate of Octavian's racist ass - everything they can share.

Frank tells Perseus about the piece of wood - which is very important when Perseus tells Frank that, sometimes, he can conjure a weird green fire of which he has little control over, so is better to keep that wood far away from him.

Some things are kept in secret - Frank is not sure Perseus will be repelled by his preferences, by the way, no woman ever caught his eye - and Perseus is afraid of telling Frank about the way that, sometimes, he wants to see the world burn, skeletons beneath his feet and blood coating his hands.

They travel through Portland - which means half the journey is done - and meet Ella - which Perseus immediately wants to take away from the creepy old dude because that's a child.

Ella is hungry and cold and in pain - and neither Perseus nor his quest mates are having that.

So he does a gamble with Creepy Old Dude and Lady Terra - which he isn't sure is in their side - and kills him. Because he is not dealing with a creepy old man who is trying to capture children, even if those children are monsters.

They take Ella with them - she's such a small, innocent girl-bird. They can't send her to Nova Roma alone - they would either kill her, hunt her or use her as entertainment - and they can't stop the mission, so there's that.

Hazel and Frank are sharing memories - with each other and Perseus. Perseus himself has no private memories to talk about - except for his dreams of Jason, which he already told Frank and now relays to Hazel.

Ella says is because their destinies are connected - says that their curses will be gone by their hands. Frank gives Hazel his piece of wood - "I would give it to both of you, but your fire is weird" - And Hazel tells them about being dead.

Perseus has an inkling of suspicion - that maybe - just maybe - he brought Hazel back. Maybe that's why his memories are gone. Either that - or he has a sibling, and wouldn't that be amazing? Siblings, cousins - a giant family. Just for him.

He doesn't ask though - because Hazel is sad and he is not an insensitive ass.

They head to the Amazon Headquarters - where Perseus has the amazing idea of going in, even if he knows Amazons just have one utility for men - sex.

They get caught - just this time, while Hylla does recognize Perseus, she is grateful. Perseus did kill Circe, yes, but he didn't free any pirates - Hylla and Reyna sailed away and never got any trouble.

Hylla is grateful for Perseus - but she cannot help him or Frank - Amazons are misandry warriors, and they are too young to be lovers, but too old to be reliable to let go. So they lock them up, and Hylla and Hazel make a plan to free them.

Otrera is dangerous - because the Amazons will follow anyone, they aren't connected to any goddess. So, when Perseus shadow travels from his cage with Frank, Hylla helps Perseus - who is way too tired - to mount Tempest - Hazel's venti - so that they can reach Letum - or, how Hylla calls him, Mors.

They go North - then further North - to the house of Frank's Grandma.

Everything goes the same - Frank's Grandma is cryptic, Mars appears, the house catches fire, they flee. A bird is seeing flying out of the window - but if it's her or no, they don't know.

Frank and Perseus discover they are related - by a lot of generations, but does it matter really? They are shield brothers - and fight in the same Cohort, for the same Rome.

Hazel feels lucky - both her best friends are related to Pluto. Both can be the one to save her - and she really hopes is not Perseus, for she can't own him any more debts.

Frank tries to control his abilities - and between Perseus' own training and Hazel's unwavering belief on him, they get him to shapeshift. Some. He is not good at it at all - but he'll get there.

They don't fear Hazel - not even when gold slips between her fingertips. Perseus calls her sister, for their connection shall be forged on metal and fire.

They fly to Alaska - this time, Perseus entrusts Ella to a General skeleton and tells him to take her somewhere safe.

During the travel, they cuddle together - all three of them - to share body warmth. Hazel is flushed - for she never had such close contact with a boy, least a boy she really likes, like Frank.

Frank, on the other side, has never been so close to a boy as he is to Perseus now. Perseus is just a brother to him - but he can't help but blush like a virgin maiden.

Perseus observes the situation with confusion - for he doesn't understand Hazel's flustered expression - which makes her look a lot like her brother any time Perseus even glances at the guy - nor Frank's blushing cheeks - which must be because of the cold.

Perseus almost drowns on Earth - the single thing he fears the most, in his own element. It pains him, and he wants to destroy Lady Terra for her trickery and mockery.

They stay in a little motel, just out of the way. No way that Frank nor Perseus would make Hazel go back to where she was abused and mistreated.

They shared basically everything in the past few days - they know almost everything about each other. Hazel tells Perseus she knows him - but is under oath to not tell anything.

Perseus is frustrated - but that is Hazel. Soft, trustworthy Hazel. She isn't doing this to hurt him. Her brother, on the other hand, can go to hell. He obviously knows Perseus - but lies to him. Explicitly. Nico Di Angelo is as bad as the gods are in Perseus' eyes.

He can't sleep - he keeps dreaming of the Earth swallowing him like it did many of his enemies - and Frank hugs him as Hazel inches closer to their shared embrace - it feels, for the first time since he woke up, like family.

They fight against Alcyoneus. Frank frees Letum - waisting part of his life on it, literally - Hazel takes on Alcyoneus - vengeance for herself - and Perseus raises an army to fight against the Undead Roman one - it's easy to defeat them, and then turn them against the giant once he has the Twelfth Legion Eagle.

Perseus - and his army that is getting harder and harder to maintain - helps Frank (who has finally managed to shapeshift) and Hazel to drive away Alcyoneus - and finally kill him, once he is out of Alaska.

They head back to Nova Roma - Hazel on her venti, Tempest, with Frank as an eagle and Perseus mounting Spot - the hellhound he was able to call from Nova Roma - pushing a chariot of Imperial Gold weapons - something rare and essential.

They meet Mrs. O'Leary - another hellhound - Blackjack - a hellhound that can speak with Perseus - Ella - who apparently found safety - and Nico Di Angelo with the cyclops Tyson - which immediately spark Perseus memories, even if he has no time to think about it.

Perseus leads the Romans - they look at him, and see the boy that has spent three months with them and three months with Lady Lupa, the boy who has been invaluable for Nova Roma's safety - their own Julius Caesar, their Augustus.

He fights against Polybotes one on one. Polybotes may be the bane of Neptune - but Perseus is also an earthshaker. He makes the Earth - Lady Terra's earth, who they are oh so proud of, the earth that swallowed him - fight against her own son.

With help from Terminus - and lots of backup from the army, his army - Polybotes is gone. The monsters - defeated.

There are thirteen dismemberments and fifty-three gravely injured. These are rushed to the hospital, while the other 184 soldiers rest and prepare for the burials.

Thirty-eight dead - men and women alike - plus nine that succumbed to their injuries. They do the procession - followed by cremation and the burial of the ashes in the temple of Pluto.

What follows is the eulogy - and the laurels. The families who have dead members are given money and prestige - it bothers Perseus. Is not enough - it won't fullfill their childrens, siblings and friends places.

Then come the laurels of the living. Frank, Hazel, Di Angelo, and Reyna are awarded Civic Crowns - the second biggest award any commander can win for battle. Everyone else is rewarded Golden Crowns - the fourth-highest decoration of battle, for their bravery.

Perseus himself is the most celebrated - he not only wins a Grass Crown (Corona Obsidionalis) for being credited for saving the whole Legion - he charms the Senatus with his acts of heroism - enough that they give him the Praetor Peregrinus title - for he also has a reputation of a good politician, as he often spoke on the Forum - while Reyna holds to the Praetor Urbanus one.

Frank himself also gains a promotion - he is now Legatus Legionis - the overall Legion commander - a title that was vacant since Jason Grace rose to Praetor, but with him missing for six months - it is time to fulfill both positions. Hazel raises to be Centurion of the Fifth Cohort.

The Consul holds the ceremony for both of their awards - where they vowed to serve Nova Roma with their lives, to put Nova Roma above their personal lives and interests - and later, they feast.

Perseus is happy with his new position - While Reyna is in charge of all judicial matters - the matters of the law - he is in charge of all defense, war and foreign matters.

That's why - when Lady Juno gives back his memories - he is infuriated. Not only he has a whole life waiting for him - one that conflicts directly with his new life - he has now a giant pile of paperwork.

The first thing he does - still in his toga praetexta, the worst garment to ever be done, even if he pities Reyna for having to use a stola on most occasions - is to punch Nico di Angelo in the face.

Then he hugs him. The boy apologizes - stuttering through words - promise to make up for it - and promptly leaves to not be seen again.

Perseus goes to the Senatus, and tell the truth: Lady Juno has sent him a vision - and in the war to come, they have to fight alongside the greeks.

Octavian wants to discredit Perseus for being a graecus. It doesn't work - for the Romans love their new Praetor - and Octavian wasn't even in the battle.

That night, Perseus doesn't even remember Jason Grace - he is just a shadow of some dreams he had for two weeks, more nightmarish than not. He dreams of Nico di Angelo - who is walking around ruins - and fears for the life of the boy who betrayed him.

He doesn't think much about it.

Perseus shadow travels to his mother - not yet to Camp, he is not ready to see them yet, and Hera/Juno told him they are coming, so it would be a waste of his energy - and hugs her for about four hours before his duties call him back.

She is happy to see him alive and well - even if she doesn't like he is fighting in yet another war for the gods. He doesn't like it either - after this, he is retiring and making them promise to never bother him again.

Perseus spends the next days preparing - for his friends, for his two lives to collide - and working his very difficult political job - Nova Roma is a homophobic and racist place, and he won't stand for other people like Gwen to be killed for it - he isn't tolerating "ficatrix" instead of lesbians or the clearly prejudiced priests anymore.

He has a long way to go. But it's fine - he and his friends are the government. Talking about his friends...

"Call me Percy"

#percy jackson #jason grace #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #au #reyna avila ramirez arellano #hazel levesque #frank zhang #ceres #camp jupiter #but roman #romans #vestal virgins #racism #corporal punishment #torture #mysoginy #queerphobia #octavian #new rome #praetor reyna #actual roman stuff #nico di angelo son of zeus #nico di angelo #argo ii #son of neptune #percy jackson son of hades #nicercy #jercy #percabeth

[chemartsblog]

I Need a Hero

Zuko put his life of stalking and blowing things up behind. He loves baking for the Jasmine Dragon, and the most stressful thing in his life is Jin’s nosiness. 

Until he’s caught in a villain attack is saved by the most gorgeous hero...and throw coupons at him.

Ao3 Link

Quirks are mutations in the human genome that cause a person to exhibit non-human traits and abilities. The earliest quirks date back to 6,000 years ago with the appearance of elemental quirks. Those with the quirks were called ‘benders’, due to their ability to seemingly bend the elements. In modern times, quirks have evolved to more complex traits…

—History of Quirks by Kya Mallik

--

“Excuse me why is this tea so bitter?” a shrill woman in an atrocious floral blouse asks. Zuko counts to ten and answers, “You asked for 0% sugar. Tea is naturally bitter. Hence your tea is bitter.”

“Well change it!”

“Okay how much sugar do you want?”

“I told you earlier I didn’t want any sugar.”

Count to ten Zuko. Just like the therapist said.

“Ma’am.” Zuko says slowly trying to keep himself from steaming, “If you don’t add any sugar it’ll still be bitter. If you want an artificial sweetener we have some Splenda over there.”

“I don’t want artificial sweeteners. They cause cancer.”

Oh Agni. What did he ever do to deserve this? Zuko winces. Actually, forget I said that.

“Okay, we’ll fix it.” Zuko grumbles. The woman huffs and nods. Zuko goes to the station and places the cup under the syrup bottle.  I hope you gain five pounds Karen. He thinks viciously as he pumps the syrup.

He shakes the drink and then returns it to her. The woman eyes it suspiciously and takes a slow sip. Then she smiles condescendingly and says, “See that wasn’t so hard.” And flounces off.

Good riddance. He thinks as he wipes down the counter.

“Wow bossman, I thought for sure you would have punched her.” Jin chirps. Song chuckles beside her and nods. “You showed great restraint, boss.”

“Can’t punch customers. Might get arrested.” He grumbles. “Also Uncle would be…disappointed.”

“And there’s the real reason why.” Jin teases. “You’re truly your Uncle’s boy.”

“Shut up Jin or I’ll fire you.”

“Said that before, bossman~” Jin sing-songs. “And you’ve never done it.”

“I’ll do it someday.” Zuko grumbles.

Song seems to take pity and says, “Why don’t you go to the kitchen, Zuko? It’s pretty much slowing down here. We can take care of any orders.”

Zuko looks at Song gratefully. She’s truly an angel. “Okay. I want to experiment on some new bread anyway.”

“Or you can take a lunch break.” Jin says. “It’s already 11, and I know you’ve been here since 4am baking.”

“Oh yes, Jin’s right. Take a lunch break. Lee’ll be here soon.”

Zuko pouts, “I’m not hungry.”

“Yes you are.” Jin retorts. “Now go. And I want to see a receipt of your lunch.”

“Please, Boss?”

Zuko looks at both the girls and sighs heavily. “Fine. Fine.” He grumbles and takes off the hat and apron. He takes his hair out of the bun and lets it tumble down to his mid-back. “I thought I was supposed to be the boss?” he mutters.

“You are! We’re just looking out for you. Uncle’s orders.” Jin sasses.

“Have a good lunch.” Song says waving at him. Zuko returns it half-heartedly and trudges out.

                                                   ----

The streets are crowded with students and workers all heading to lunch. Zuko does his best to weave around the crowds, but even he’s pushed around in the crowded streets. Fortunately, Kuzon’s Diner is just ahead, and he breathes a sigh of relief when he gets in. The smell of familiar Fire Nation spices eases his nerves, and he goes up to the counter. On Ji smiles and asks, “You’re usual?”

“Please.” He says tiredly. He just wants to stuff his face with some hand-cut Fire Noodles. Extra spicy.

“Haha did Jin force you to take a break?”

“Jin doesn’t force me to do anything.” Zuko denies petulantly.

On Ji rolls her eyes, “Suuure Zuko.”

He tries to pay but she stops him. “On the house.” She says.

Zuko narrows his eyes, “On Ji.” He tries to say.

“Nope, you made my sister’s birthday cake.”

“It was just a cake.”

“It was a four-tiered cake to make it look like the scene from the movie Love Amongst Dragons. It was a masterpiece. Mom still cries thinking about it. You’re not paying.”

He sighs, but relents. What is with all the strong-willed women in his life?

“Thanks.” He says taking the packed noodles.

On Ji smiles and shoos him playfully, “Go on. I know I can’t make you stay to eat here. But I texted Jin, so I’ll know if you don’t eat it immediately.”

“I never should have introduced you guys.” He grumbles half-heartedly.

“Please, you love us mothering you.”

“Goodbye On Ji.” Zuko grits out.

“Mom says she better see you next week for our monthly potluck!”

“Yes, I know.” He says fondly and waves goodbye at the excitable girl.

                                                    ---

He’s walking leisurely and thinking about new bread flavors when an explosion rocks the area. His body goes on autopilot and he crouches behind a mailbox. He frantically looks around and sees a group of people in combat uniforms. Villains. Great.

There are three in total. The biggest one is carrying a bulky case, probably filled with whatever loot they stole. He looks to be an anima-based mutant. Kamodo-rhino perhaps? The other two seem to be energy-propulsion mutants. One is shooting beams out of his forehead and the other is shooting from her hands. There’s a familiar rush of adrenaline coursing through Zuko as he thinks of the ways they could escape. Getaway vehicle, temporal portal, smokescreen.

Still it’s pretty ballsy of them to attack a major hub in daylight. Maybe they didn’t have a choice? He wonders what’s in the bag, and his fingers start to itch.

No.

He closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths and tries to calm his beating heart. No.

There are more explosions. People are running around him. Screaming, panicking. He belatedly hears the Civilian Safety Force giving order, and he sees the bright neon green uniforms start to direct the crowd into orderly lines. Zuko stands and starts to go with them, but then he hears On Ji.

Without thinking he starts running towards her, weaving through the officers who are yelling at him to stop. But he can’t. He sees On Ji. Trapped next to a wall by debris from the ruined building. She’s desperately trying to get out, but she’s not strong enough to move the fallen chunks.

Zuko moves.

He doesn’t practice as much as before, but his body still remembers. Still remembers how to weave and dodge and climb smoothly over the debris, over the flying projectiles and screaming people. He reaches On Ji and frees her.

“Zuko.” She whispers with awe.

“No time. Let’s go.” Zuko says slinging her over his shoulders. Even through all this, his heart is calm and steady. He seems to fly through the street. In the back of his mind, he can acknowledge that he misses this. Misses the danger. The adrenaline. But he’s rusty. Maybe he would have seen it five years ago, but he barely notices it now.

He doesn’t even think. He tosses On Ji to a group of neon-green officers and faces the truck flying towards him.

Time slows.

His hands curl and he brings them up in a protective stance. Fire rushes through his veins and—blue.

B

O

O

M

!

Zuko blinks and coughs as dust tickle his lungs. He’s on the ground, but there’s a looming shadow over him. He looks up and his eyes widen.

It’s like a scene out of a movie; there’s a tall dark-skinned man in front of him. He’s in a dark blue hero suit with a sword on his hip. His brown hair is tied in a wolfstail with the sides shaved. And most impressively, he’s holding up the truck like it weighs nothing.

Oh Spirits, those are some big biceps.

The hero puts down the truck gently, and Zuko tries not to ogle at the thicc thighs that flex as he squats down. It’s getting really hot here. Why is it getting so hot here?

Then the hero turns and smiles. It’s. Blinding.

Zuko doesn’t even realize that the hero has walked close to him until he’s face to face with him. The dark googles mask his eyes, but Zuko thinks he probably has really striking eyes under them.

“Don’t worry. I’m here.” He says in a soothing deep timber. Then he wraps his arms around Zuko and lifts him. Princess style.

Zuko can only squeak and cling onto his very muscular shoulders.

Don’t get a boner. Don’t get a boner. Don’t get a boner.

Suddenly he’s put down and people are swarming him. Someone puts an ugly orange blanket over him and another is flashing a really bright light in his eye. He flinches and bats the light away from his eye. Someone chuckles next to him and he turns to see the Hero, still smiling and saying, “I gotta go kick some ass, but I’ll be back to check on you.”

Zuko likes to think that he says okay or nods or anything really, but in reality, he just continues to stare at the Hero. Red-faced and wide-eyed.

The hero is still there, and it looks like he wants to laugh. “So…maybe you can let go now?”

Ah he’s still clutching his shoulders. Nice Zuko. Good job.

He peels his fingers off the uniform and puts them tightly on his side. With one last wave, the Hero goes to face the three mutants.

There are more people surrounding him and asking him questions, but Zuko’s head is in a buzz. He belatedly hears On Ji’s voice near him and feels a protective hand over him. He clutches the hand and closes his eyes.

Focus Zuko. Calm yourself and breathe.

When he opens them, On Ji is beside him. Teary and dusty but otherwise alright. The orange shock blanket is still on him, and he pulls it tightly across him.

“You okay?” Zuko croaks.

On Ji scoffs and hugs him tight. “Of course. Thanks to you.”

“I owed you for the free noodles.” He tries to joke, but by the glare On Ji sends him it probably didn’t land.

“Zuko Hira’a, you are not allowed to pay for anything in Kuzon’s diner for as long as you live.” She says sternly. “And don’t bother trying to hide this from Song and Jin. I already texted them.”

Ugh he knew he shouldn’t have introduced them.

He sighs and says, “Okay. I’m sorry for worrying you, but I—I just saw you there and—and I couldn’t just leave you.”

She smiles tearily. “I know. Because you’re a stupid brave reckless idiot.”

“I know.”

A paramedic comes over to him and gives a reassuring smile. “Zuko Hira’a?”

“Yes?”

“It seems you’re alright. Just a bit of shock and a small cut on your right cheek.”

Zuko immediately puts his hands to his face and feels the rough bandage. On Ji groans and swats his hand away. “Don’t touch it.”

“Sorry.” he mutters, shaking the sting on his hand off.

The paramedic looks amused and hands him a form. “Well, it’s not deep. You didn’t even need stiches, just fill out this form and you’ll be set.”

“Thank you.” Zuko says taking the paper. The paramedic smiles again and leaves.

“So…now that you’re officially cleared...” On Ji has a devious look on her face.

Oh no.

“How’d it feel to be saved by a big handsome hero?”

He should have let the truck squash him.

Instead, he has to be here. With On Ji, who has the biggest shit-eating grin on her face. Can he fake a heart attack?

“You can’t fake a heart attack.”

“…how did you know?” Did she have a mind-reading quirk?

“Because that was your ‘can I fake a heart attack’ face.”

“I didn’t know I had one.” He mumbles.

On Ji clucks her tongue, “You still haven’t answered my question.”

Please Spirits give me something. Anything.

“Hey, I’m glad I found you!”

ANYTHING BUT THAT!

Zuko freezes and turns around stiltedly. Blue Hero’s face is a little dirty, but it just makes him look rugged, and his googles are pushed up to reveal striking blue eyes. Now that Zuko has a closer look, his arms are much bigger than he originally thought. They’re just tight corded muscles with beautiful brown skin stretched over them. His hero suit also helps show off the defined lines of his body. The dark blue really goes will with his brown skin—and Blue Hero is talking. And he’s waiting for a response.

Good job Zuko. Way to pay attention. Just nod; that’s usually the answer to everything right?

Zuko nods and the Hero beams. On Ji is biting her lips on the side, and he wishes he could just swat her away. Or rather if Zuko could swat Zuko away. That would be the most ideal.

“I’m glad you’re okay. I was really worried for a second because you were kinda out of it.” The hero says.

Yes yes. He was. No need to make him relive the shame of his encounter.

“Um…sorry. About that.”

“Haha, it’s no problem. You were probably in shock and all. Oh I’m Pro-Hero Boomerang by the way!” Boomerang stretches his hand out, and Zuko stares at it before On Ji takes pity on him and elbows his back discretely. Zuko takes it and says, “Uh…Zuko here.”

Zuko here? ZUKO HERE? Agni just strike him down now.

Boomerang just takes it in stride and smiles, “You were pretty brave, but maybe next time you can leave it to the heroes?”

Fire flares in his gut. His eyes narrow and he squeezes the hand tight, “I wasn’t going to stand by and watch her get hurt. Not if I could help. And I won’t apologize for it.”

Boomerang blinks, and his grin seems to change into something more real. “You’re right, but maybe…just be a little more careful next time huh? I can’t always swoop in to rescue you.” His eyes are smoldering and Zuko feels his palms start to heat up. He retracts his hands quickly and turns to hide his blush.

“Right right.” He mumbles.

Boomerang looks amused, but he turns to On Ji and says, “You’re lucky to have him as a boyfriend.”

On Ji sticks out her tongue, “Ugh no way. He’s more like my socially awkward older brother. Besides he’s super gay.”

“On Ji!” Zuko hisses, but Boomerang doesn’t seem to have heard him. His eyes widen and his brows lift. He glances at Zuko who’s desperately trying to will the red off his face.

“I see.” He says contemplatively. “Well, it’s nice to see that you guys are okay. I have to go help with clean-up.”

“Of course.” On Ji says genially. “Thank you for all your help, Boomerang.” Then she elbows Zuko who looks dumbly at Boomerang.

He should say something. Thank you or can I lick your biceps? No, that last one was not good. Thank you. Just say ‘thank you’…

But the sun just hit him at the just the right angle to make the shadows grace his strong jaw. The cut lines of his body. The piercing blue of his eyes. And he freaks.

He takes something out of his pocket and shoves it in the hero’s chest. Boomerang looks confused (rightfully so) and barely takes the slip of paper.

“HERE’S A COUPON FOR MY TEASHOP. OKAYBYE!” And he grabs On Ji and the blanket and books it.

He must look like a maniac because people are parting for him and On Ji is cackling like a witch, but he doesn’t really care right now. He just needs to get out of there to prevent anymore word vomit from coming out of him. He runs until he’s back at the Jasmine Dragon, and he throws the door open.

Multiple eyes widen in shock at his appearance, but Zuko just puts On Ji down on an empty chair where she proceeds to laugh herself silly, and Zuko goes into the kitchen, ignoring all the wide-eye looks from his employees. He reaches the refrigerator and goes inside. Finally, he pulls up a stool and sinks down, head to his knees, and heaves a loud guttural groan.

#sokka x zuko #superhero au #zukka #avatar the last airbender #atla #zuko #sokka #aang #katara #toph #jin #i need a hero

[begrudgingly-i-care]

You Are Not My Type

B.I.C. deleted scene:

“Wait, you’re an airbender?!” Aang stops swinging his staff at her, eyes wide and smile wider. “I didn’t think there were any of us left-- I thought I was the last one!” He laughed, loud and free, before shoving himself closer into Ty Lee’s personal space. She backed up. “Are there others? If you ’ve managed to hide yourself for this long in the Fire Nation of all places, there must be, right?”

“Uh…”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Azula laughs, sharp and condescending and worried. “ Ty Lee isn’t an airbender, that’s absurd! She’s never bent a single current in her entire, miserable life.”

Ty Lee gave Aang a look that was one part pity and two parts relief. “Azula’s right, you know. I’m just an acrobat!” She did a series of impressive flips, landing on a single hand and holding her body in a position that was visibly uncomfortable for the untrained. “See?”

“Of course you’ve never bent currents-- you’re not that type of airbender!”

“Aang, you have got to stop trying to talk to our enemies in the middle of battle!” 

“Twinkle Toes does what he wants, Snoozles.”

“Unfortunately, you’re right.” Sokka drooped dramatically and glanced toward Mai. “I don’t suppose that you, uh, will stop throwing sharp-pointy things at us until Aang gets whatever this is out of his system.”

Mai merely sighs. “Whatever he’s saying certainly seems more interesting than this… fight.” Her pause clearly indicated what she thought of their fighting prowess.

Sokka was puffing up to retaliate when Katara shoved him aside. “Aang, I know you want to believe that you’re not alone but… But even if she is an airbender, is she worth it? This is a risk, Aang.”

“I know, Katara.” He hadn’t taken his awe-filled eyes away from Ty Lee since the revelation had hit him. “Even if she is my enemy, she’s still an airbender. She deserves to know.”

“Okay, Aang.” She took the hand not holding his staff in hers and squeezed lightly.

“Well, Avatar, I have never heard of there being different types of airbenders, but that’s hardly surprising, seeing as the Fire Nation destroyed your temples and all of the knowledge within.”

Aang ignored her, absently patting at Katara’s shoulder to calm her down. “Okay, I’ve never had to explain this before so I might need a minute.” His legs folded up on top of a flurry of air, his brows furrowed, and he rested his chin on his free hand, his other still holding onto Katara’s.

Ty Lee felt guilty. She had manufactured herself to be nice: her acrobatics was meant to entertain, she smiled often so others felt comfortable enough to reflect it back, she laughed freely to help inspire that feeling in others, she learned chi-blocking so that she would have a non-lethal way to fight. Even the color she wore, pink, was meant to mimic the pink of a happy aura, of an aura that is willing to receive and to give kindness. So, a large part of her wanted to be an airbender for the simple fact that the boy-- and he was a boy, a child, they all were but him most of all-- looked so happy at the thought. He clearly knew that she was still his enemy, that this would change nothing-- it changed everything -- but it was a kindness that she had to do nothing in order to give.

Still. Another part of her wanted this to be true to answer for all of the lonely, aching pieces of herself that she could not explain. For her obvious difference to her Fire Nation peers. For her grey eyes and easy smile and fickle nature.

She wanted to be an airbender for him, sure, but maybe she mostly wanted it for herself.

Kindness can be selfish, too.

“Okay, I think I got it!” Grey eyes met grey. “Okay, so airbenders and air-aligned peoples--”

“Air aligned?” Mai cut in, eyes narrowed.

“Yeah! I’m narrowing the definition of airbender to make this easier, but even those who couldn’t really bend could be considered airbenders if the teachings resonated enough with them. We didn’t really have nations since we were mostly nomadic, so we all called ourselves benders.”

She sighed. “Weird.”

“Maybe! Anyway, airbenders have three subcategories of bending! There’s externalized, where you guide the air, there’s the delocalized, where the air guides you , and then there’s internalized, where you are the air!” Aang let go of Katara’s hand to do a happy spin atop his airball. “I’m pretty sure that Ty Lee’s the last type!” His eyes seemed to sparkle as he rambled out, “Oh, I bet you see auras! I can, too, but not a lot.”

Ty Lee just. Blinked. “Oh, yeah, I do.”

“What does that mean for Ty Lee?”

“Well, Azula--”

“That’s Princess Azula to you, brat.”

“--Princess Azula, I think a demonstration might explain a lot more than I can! You’re pretty agile, could you do a backflip or something?”

Azula’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “I don’t perform on command.”

“It’ll be worth your time, I promise.”

“It better be.”

She flawlessly flipped or something .

“Great! Now it’s your turn, Ty Lee.”

Ty Lee untensed a bit at that. Performing was kinda her thing, after all. She did exactly what Azula did, with maybe a little more flair, but that’s just show biz!

“Did you see that?!” He ran up to her, dispelling his airball and ruffling Katara’s hair in the process. 

“No.” Toph smirked.

Aang ignored her, as was his wont. “Princess Azula’s form was perfect, but you heard those sounds right? The way the fabrics sounded, or didn’t , and the way she landed.”

“Ty Lee,” Azula snapped. “Again.” And so Ty Lee repeated what she had just done. “Hmph.”

“I mean, I kinda see it.” Mai sounded a touch less bored than she had earlier. 

Aang gasped, the very picture of delight, his aura pink-- kind so kind-- and green-- growing and giving-- and brown-- nurturing and fond and I-will-help-you-grow. “I bet that, when you think you’ll land rough, you push your aura out to where you’ll crash, right?”

“How did you know?”

Aang jumped from foot to foot, grinning like a loon. “It’s pretty common for internalized airbenders to do that!”

“Auras aren’t air.” Sokka pointed out, sounding very unsure. He hated anything wishy-washy, like divination or spirituality or auras. Ironic, considering Spirits came flocking to him constantly.

“Not exactly. Air is intangible, and so a lot of intangible things have the aspect of air, which is why airbending has different categories; it’s difficult to gain mastery of one aspect, so airbenders usually focus on the aspect they’re naturally inclined to and dabble in the rest!”

“I didn’t know you can see auras, Twinkletoes.”

“Not well. Usually, I just get a general feeling off of people. I can only see the auras of people I’m really close to.”

“This is fun, and all,” Mai began, in her usual tone of this is not fun at all, actually, “but I think we’ve heard enough.”

Princess Azula harrumphed . “This changes everything. Ty Lee is mine , but Father wouldn’t spare her if it came out she was an airbender. And airbending could be useful if Ty Lee learned more about it…” Azula tilted her head, smirking, “Girls, how do you feel about a little rebellion ? We’re teenagers, are we not?”

“Well, I guess I am due for another bout of teenage rebellion.” 

“You guys want to join the circus for a bit? It could be fun!.”

“We are not joining the circus, Ty Lee. Don’t be ridiculous. We just need to find the one person who might be willing to tell us more about your airbending that won’t get us immediately killed on sight. We can only hang around the Avatar for so long before even idiots like Zhao start getting suspicious.”

“Are we going to see who I think we’re going to see?”

“Duh.”

“Oooh, I’m so excited!”

“Uh, what’s going on?” Aang asked. Sokka shrugged and Toph laughed. Katara just stood there, staring at the girls who were Being Very Suspicious.

“We’re going to see Zuzu. I’ll send him your regards. Ta.”

“Bye-bye!”

“Ugh.”

  Aang laughed once the Fire Nation trio was out of sight. “I think that went well!”

#Begrudgingly I Care #airbender ty lee #autistic mai #badass ty lee #badass azula #I love these lesbians #auras #aang #aang is a cinnamon roll #ty lee #mai #azula #ty lee centric #why isn't that a tag??? #spirit magnet sokka yall #this was just a draft and sadly it won't ever be fleshed out :( #you are not my type #airbender headcanons #airbender hc #Those are my personal headcanons and if you like em feel free to use them as long as you credit me! #mostly cuz I like talking about that type of stuff #dialogue heavy #atla #atla fic

[words-writ-in-starlight]

how about any combo of "feverish delirium and mumbling", "easy, easy," "brushing hair from brow," and/or "waking up not knowing where they are" for s&s? like yes i know ms moore already blessed us with this content in canon but what about SECOND content??

I DON’T THINK THEY KNOW ABOUT SECOND CONTENT or even first content, actually, Please Read The Source & Shield Books.  For this ask meme!  Also, I have been watching AtLA again, which is my explanation for this.

Shintaro comes around slowly, to the sound of hissing voices.  It’s his first sign that all is not well--servants don’t talk around sleeping nobility, and his mother and brother never bother to be quiet.  No one whispers near him, except occasionally Bailey.

“--can’t believe you brought him here,” one voice is continuing in a sharp murmur, and Shintaro--Shintaro should know that voice.  It’s a boy, maybe his own age, with a broad and inspecific traveler’s accent.  Shintaro tries to force his eyes open to get a look and fails--his head aches, sharp and brutal, a throbbing in the right side of his face and a dry rasp to his breathing, and he can’t quite get his eyelids to obey him.

“I know,” another voice says, flat--no, not flat, purely neutral, a kind of schooled non-response that Shintaro should probably admire, really.  It makes his lungs try to curl up in his chest.  It’s a girl, and this one, this one he really should know, it pricks nervous energy up in his veins.  He knows her.  “But look at him.”

“We’re looking,” says a much closer voice, another boy, and something blessedly cool settles over Shintaro’s throbbing cheek.  It leeches the pain from his skin, leaving a tightness behind, and Shintaro can’t help a ragged noise of relief.  There’s a beat of silence, and then:

“Can’t you keep him out?”

“Well, I could drown him,” says the nearest voice, dry.

“Don’t drown him,” the girl snaps.  “I’m trying to do my job here--”

“I can’t believe you got chewed out by your own past life--”

“Guys,” the nearest voice interrupts, “he’s waking up.”

Shintaro fights his eyes open--one eye, the other is badly swollen and obscured by something that ripples for a moment before being whisked away from his skin.  The dimly lit room reels around him for an awful moment, and a hand appears on his shoulder from over his head, holding him down when he automatically tries to sit up.

“Easy,” the nearest voice says, and Shintaro looks, and--

Shintaro freezes for a long moment, and wrenches himself away.  He pays immediately for it, his head screaming and the burn on his face flaring back into the blinding pain that knocked him out in the first place, and he’s barely on his feet before he lurches forward and almost collapses back onto the floor.

“Catch him!” Dias yelps behind him, and a short figure grabs him in strong arms and bears him to the ground in a graceful slide rather than a painful collapse.

“Careful, Your Highness,” his savior says, a little bitterness lacing that perfect calm as Shintaro gasps and presses a shaking hand to his face.  It feels--not as terrible as he’d expected.  “You’ve had a pretty bad day.”

“Clearly,” Shintaro manages, biting his tongue on the rush of pain and forcing his throat to speak.  “Am I being kidnapped?”

“You’re welcome,” his savior says.  She has a riot of long hair in a rare and startling red, and her clothes are deep green and dusty brown, and she looks as professionally expressionless as she always does, but there’s an edge in her eyes that looks a little like disgust.  

Shintaro has had the dubious privilege of meeting Dunleavy, no last name given, several times.  All have involved a very credible attempt on his life.  He’s not entirely sure he’s grateful for this.

It must show on his face.  The other boy, the non-bender--Mika, Shintaro recalls after a moment, with a short Water Tribe spear strapped to his back and a lethally clever twist to his lips--makes an amused sound.  “Never thought I’d feel this bad for a firebender.  Here, let’s get you back on the bed.  If you’re good, Dias won’t even drown you.  And Lee can explain.”

“I’m fine,” Shintaro says automatically, and Dunleavy--Lee, he’s heard them call her that before--snorts.  She’s strong for her size, earthbenders tend to be, and she hauls him to his feet like he doesn’t weigh anything, shoves him onto the bed.

“Look,” Dunleavy snaps.  “Your mother burned half your face off.”

“Yeah,” Shintaro mumbles.  “Thanks.  I remember.”  He doesn’t, actually, but he remembers Bailey’s voice as he was pulled off the Agni Kai grounds, and the banishment pronouncement filtering through the smoky smell of his own skin burning.  “Any other information I might have missed?”

“You were banished.  Rumor is, it’ll be lifted if you can capture the Avatar.  Alone.”  

“I’m aware.  I was called to stand for my failure at the North Pole, and I knew the terms when I agreed to a trial by combat.  So, to clarify,” Shintaro says, leaning away from Dias as a flick of his wrist calls silvery water out of a canteen, “you decided to capture me first.  Don’t touch me,” he adds to Dias, and the waterbender holds up both hands, holding the water back, like Shintaro is a child in need of reassurance.

Dunleavy, for the first time since he met her at the South Pole, shows some emotion besides exasperation, and scrubs both her hands over her face, tangles them in her hair.  “I’m doing this all wrong,” she mutters.  “Your mother is awful, and your brother is worse--why are you even helping them, anyway?  You hate them!”

“Where else am I going to go?” Shintaro says.  It’s not bitter.  It’s not despairing.  He tries to mimic Dunleavy’s neutrality, and doesn’t let himself think about the pain in his face, or the fact that Dunleavy would probably have done better as his mother’s child than he has.  “The Air Nomads?  The North Pole?  Oh, I know,” he says, and snaps his fingers.  His voice is getting vicious, he can hear it, he can hear his mother in it, but he keeps talking.  “I could go to your old home, right?  Ba Sing Se would welcome me with open arms, I’m sure."

That stings her.  He sees it hit home.  Ba Sing Se is still standing strong, but he knows for a fact that they weren’t welcoming to their long-lost daughter and the war on her heels.  Dunleavy looks away from him.

“I’m sorry,” Shintaro says, and lowers his head.  His hair hurts when it falls, loose, against his burn.  “I just--I couldn’t go anywhere else.  And now...”  He gestures broadly.  “How long do you think I’ll survive, roughly?  I’m offering very good odds on the two-month mark.  I would recommend taking the under.”

“That’s my point,” Dunleavy says, and sighs, and looks back to him.  She holds out her hand and Shintaro stares at it for a long few minutes.  “You hate what the Fire Nation is doing almost as much as we do,” she says, and it sounds--careful.  Like she’s picking her words with precision.  “And you can’t go home.  So why don’t you help us?”

Shintaro’s gaze snaps up to her face, and she meets his eye without blinking.  “You would--trust me like that?”

“Like you said,” Dunleavy says, and she smiles a little, a faint trace of a thing.  “I don’t see you getting any better offers, Your Highness.  And,” she admits, “I need a firebending teacher.  You had the best in the world, I assume.”

The Avatar is beautiful when she smiles, Shintaro thinks, head spinning in shock.  He’s surprised to find that his decision is already made.

“Okay,” he says faintly, and shakes her hand.

#source and shield #shintaro karish #dunleavy mallorough #avatar au #ask meme #starlight writes stuff #OHOHOHOHOHOHO I THINK I AM ONTO SOMETHING WITH THIS!!!! #anyway taro does not become fire lord because i'm not...THAT cruel #they find fiona and make HER fire lord #lee's animal companion is aryne by which i mean it's a little asshole and she loves it very much #lee would make the Worst airbender but she makes a pretty legit earthbender so! there you go #earthbender lee and fire prince taro and water tribe dias and mika who Found Someone In An Iceberg #this is basically...in which taro WAS hunting the avatar pre-banishment (to get him out of his mother's sight) #(and transparently so that she could use the spies posted on his ship to send his elder brother in at the last moment to steal the glory) #but his failure to capture the avatar in the assault on the north pole resulted in his mother denouncing him as a traitor #('you had her in your hands and you let her go' the dowager fire lady says viciously. taro kneels and says nothing and does not fight back. #and so now he's banished and fully expecting to be murdered in cold blood within the month #ALSO in this au taro has never had...friends...so he doesn't have his nickname yet! dias gives it to him #a queue we will keep and our honor someday avenge #cthulhu-with-a-fez #asked and answered

[shamipking]

Avatar: The Incarnation of Hao

Chapter 1: A Nomad in Republic City

Status: In Progress Fandoms: Shaman King, Avatar: The Last Airbender, Legend of Korra Rating: Not Rated Warnings: None Characters: Manta Oyamada, Yoh Asakura Additional Tags:  AU, Crossover, Canon Continuation, Alternate Universe-Future External Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25606687/chapters/62152525#workskin https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13658136/2/Avatar-The-Incarnation-of-Hao

Manta always had a cursory connection to spirits. People had for decades now, with the Spirit World taking up residence as Republic City’s backyard. Manta, however, liked to believe it was his ancestry that made the affection he and the spirits shared special.

He did not know for sure if it was, but it made him smile to think about it.

Attachment to the spirits aside, Manta felt he lived a particularly unassuming life. No easy feat for the heir of the biggest company in Republic City, but he was happy to manage it. With no bending to speak of, or many talents outside of studying, his life was set well in stone by his father. Though also a non-bender, Manta knew Mansumi still had the power to move mountains. He was more ruthless as chairman of Future Industries than grandmama Asami had been, or even his grandfather after her.

Though it wasn’t the life Manta would have chosen for himself, he hoped that when he someday inherited his great grandmother’s company, he could steer it back in a direction she would be proud of.

He tugged on a stiff business suit-- a carbon copy of his father’s. He ambled through the Sato estate, and onto the street where a Satomobile would be waiting to take him to the tutor his father insisted upon.

No son of mine will spend his day frolicking with spirits or daydreaming about bending!

Manta often wondered how the grandson of an Avatar could have such a bleak worldview.

As with every morning, the thought ran idly through Manta’s head as he sighed and walked to meet the driver. Door already open. Master Oyamada, he would be greeted. Sato, please. Or Manta, would be his reply, which was never heeded. He could do it with his eyes closed. He may as well have, so lost in thought as he was. It took him a long moment to realize he had not, in fact, stepped into his private Satomobile, but onto a white patch of fur. Which was also still attached to the animal that had grown it.

At the same time Manta began to mutter, “what…” he heard a rumbling growl and found himself lifting into the air.

“WHAAAA--!” He hollered, gripping the fur for dear life. When he opened his eyes, he was dangling from the fur by his hands. It was from here that he realized he’d been standing on the tail of a sky bison, the same tail he was now hanging from, and was face to face with it’s rider.

The brown haired boy wore a bemused expression on his face. He was dressed in the traditional orange robes of the Airbenders, though worn even looser than Manta normally saw, with the front hanging open. The boy also, Manta realized, sported no tattoos.

I guess this kid isn’t a master yet, Manta thought. Hold on, I’m still STUCK UP HERE!

“You stepped on Mune’s tail,” the other boy pointed out, unhelpfully.

“C-C-C-Can you get me DOWN FROM HERE?” Manta exclaimed, clutching the tufts of fur tighter. The bison, Mune, growled again and shook its tail. “Plea-he-he-he-se” he added as he was tossed to and fro.

The air nomad laughed, and leaned over the edge of the saddle to stroke the bison’s fur. “That’s enough, Mune, it’s alright. He won’t hurt you. ‘Atta girl.” Seemingly soothed, Mune brought Manta back up and allowed him to clamor into the saddle. He breathed a shaky sigh of relief.

“Sorry about that,” the strange boy said. “She likes to play, but can take it too far sometimes.” He was grinning, almost nonchalantly.

“Th-that’s playing?” Manta was dubious. Airbenders tended toward the carefree but this was pushing it, wasn’t it?

“She’s a bit rough with her herd mates, too. My name is Yoh, by the way. What’s yours?” Yoh extended his hand, still smiling, still an affectionate humor in his voice talking about a several ton bison rough housing.

“Oh, um, it’s Manta,” he shook Yoh’s hand. “I’m sorry I stepped on your bison. I guess I wasn’t paying attention.”

“It’s alright, you might have startled her a bit but you didn’t hurt her,” as if in assent, Mune rumbled almost gently, or, Manta assumed, the closest the creature could get to “gentle”. Again, Yoh leaned over the side of the saddle to pat her. Then he slumped back over, his back to the edge and arms behind his head, and stared up peacefully at the sky. Is this what he’d been doing before Manta came out?

“Pardon me, but, what are you doing here?” He realized Yoh and Mune were where his chauffeur was usually parked. “Please tell me you didn’t land on a Satomobile parked here.”

Yoh looked back at Manta, almost as if he had forgotten Manta was there, or had expected him to leave. “Nope, no one was here. Mune was tired and we needed to land somewhere in the city,” he paused, in a way that suggested he’d finished, before continuing. “Come to think, though, someone drove by a bit before you showed up. He did seem angry that I was here.”

Is it any wonder why? Manta thought. “Ack! That driver was supposed to take me to my lessons! I’ll be late!” He shot up and began frantically searching up and down the street for Tamurazaki. The Satomobile and his driver were nowhere in sight.

“I can take you! Just tell me where to go,” Yoh said, already crawling to the front of the saddle and over the lip to take up the reins.

“Wait, no, that’s not--”

“Mune, yip yip,” Yoh called, and the bison took off before Manta could finish. As they climbed over the towering buildings, Manta shut his eyes and clung to the side of the saddle, screaming until they leveled out in the air. Even then, he felt he might faint.

“Where are we going?” Yoh asked again. He seemed perfectly at ease on Mune’s neck. Manta figured he would, too, if he could practically fly.

Manta was the opposite of at ease. “Just. Just a couple blocks south of where we were. Big building, near some spirit vines,” he was pressing himself against the floor of the saddle. “Please don’t make me look. Just put me down somewhere close, it’s fine.”

He kept his eyes glued shut until Mune landed safely on the ground once more. At Yoh’s insistence that it was ok, Manta climbed from the saddle and slid down her tail. In a voice as wobbly as his legs, he choked out, “Thank you,” before turning to walk in the direction of his tutor.

“No problem,” Yoh called down. “It was my fault anyway.”

He’s right about that, Manta thought. “Uh, well. I guess… I’ll see you around?” The kid would be hard to miss. Airbenders and sky bison weren’t uncommon sights anymore, but that didn’t mean a giant white beast was inconspicuous in the city.

“Sure. You should come to Air Temple Island, sometime,” Yoh mused. “That’s where I’ve been sent for training.”

“I’m not a bender,” Manta’s response was automatic, he was used to it coming up in conversation.

“You don’t have to be,” Yoh assured him. “I think my teacher would like to know what friends I was making. Think about it!” With another “yip yip!” Yoh was airborne again, flying in the direction of Yue Bay. Manta watched him, feeling a mix of bewilderment and awe.

“Friends, huh?” He muttered to himself as Yoh and Mune disappeared behind the tall buildings Manta couldn’t see over. Even though he barely knew Yoh, he found he liked the sound of that.

#shaman king #avatar the last airbender #legend of korra #fanfic #crossover #haovatar #yoh #manta #my writing

[leona-x-lancaster]

[ ZENDAYA COLEMAN, CISFEMALE, SHE/HER] — If you’re strolling Derry today, you might see [ LEONA LANCASTER ] along the way! The [ TWENTY-TWO ] year old can usually be found at [ BARTINI as HEAD BARTENDER / OCCASIONAL DANCER ], when they aren’t busy with [ GETTING HIGH and PARTYING ]. I hear they seem to be [ LAID BACK and GENUINE ], but they are also rumored to be [ SARCASTIC and RECKLESS ].  I’m sure they’d never admit it, but they’re terrified of [ DEEP WATER ]

TW: Bipolar Disorder, Depression, Bullying, Attempted Murder, Insomnia, Eating Disorder, Drug Abuse, Alcohol Abuse

Basic Info

Full Name: Leona Alexis Lancaster Nickname(s): Lee, Little Lion Age: 22 Occupation: Head Bartender at Bartini Dance Club Birthday: Sept. 13th Zodiac: Virgo

Family

Father (adopted): Alistair Lancaster Father (adopted): Antonio Hernandez-Lancaster Birth Mother: Name is Unknown. She was a teenage mother, though, and possibly a drug addict herself Sibling(s): Older (adopted) Brother

Physical Appearance

Height: 5′10′’ Weight: 114 lbs Hair Color / Type: Dark brown / Naturally curly. She sometimes straightens it Eye Color: Dark Brown Piercings: Two piercings each on the right and left earlobes; once on the right and left cartilages

Wardrobe examples: X

Personality

(+) Independent, Genuine, Down to Earth, Genius, Fiercely Loyal (-) Unrestrained, Wild, Impulsive, Reckless, Sarcastic

She’s pretty nice to almost everyone, and tries her best not to judge others for their situations, seeing as she’s not exactly perfect herself. She’s very chilled and down to earth, and is super, SUPER smart but tries her best to hide that from people, because of all the hate she got during her high school years.

Has no restrains at the moment, and is very reckless and impulsive because of that. She gets high and drunk all the time and doesn’t really care too much what everyone else thinks of it.

VERY sarcastic, but moreso in a humorous way than her just being truly nasty (she doesn’t really have a malicious bone in her body)

Her Demons

She suffers from: Drug Addiction, Alcohol Addiction, Bipolar Depression, Insomnia, and an Eating Disorder.

She’s well aware that she is a fucking mess (she uses that phrase quite a lot to describe herself), and while she cares, she has no plans of actually stopping. Mostly because she doesn’t know how and also because she loves the feelings her highs give her far too much.

She lies and says that it’s only for fun and she could and will stop, but…she’s lying through her teeth.

She suffers from bipolar depression, which contributes heavily to her substance abuse. Leona was diagnosed at a very early age, and was on a thousand different kind of meds, as the doctors tried to figure out what the hell was wrong with her. These days, she’s opted out on her medication for actual drugs, to help her cope with her insomnia and severe depressive episodes.

She has very low self esteem and she has no self worth. You could tell her that she’s the prettiest girl in the room and she wouldn’t believe you. This comes from her school years where she was bullied severely, and from her depression. She was called every horrible name under the sun and she’s come to believe them all.

She’s a literal genius, but the bullying and hazing that she suffered in high school has caused her to hate that about herself. Her mind is always busy, racing with thoughts and she finds it so hard to turn it off when she’s sober…so she gets high to help her do it for her.

Due to her mind always constantly on autopilot, she suffers from insomnia, as she finds it extremely difficult to sleep because her brain just won’t shut off.

Her drug (and alcohol) addiction is getting more and more out of control. It’s pretty obvious, just looking at her most days, that she’s not okay.

You will catch her staring blankly at the walls, unresponsive. That can be really unnerving to witness, because her eyes look dead. This is her at the peak of her high.

She’s always had an aversion to food, but it’s gotten worse as her addiction to drugs got worse. Leona was practically starving herself. She hardly ever eats anything, even when she feels hungry which is pretty rare - it’s only ever the bare minimum. Her appetite is just non-existent and oftentimes when she does pick at food, her stomach just can’t handle it and she ends up getting nauseous.

She’s always been pretty thin and frail looking, but she’s getting thinner by the day. She doesn’t notice.

BIGGEST FEAR

Thalassophobia -  is the persistent and intense fear of deep bodies of water such as the ocean\sea, river or lake - any kind of body of water that seemed vast, dark, deep, and dangerous.

When Leona was thirteen, she had been invited by a few of the older girls that she went to school with to go sailing along the harbor. Getting the invite had been decidedly odd, since these girls had been her main tormentors for the last several years - ever since she had moved up to their grade (she’d skipped three grades). They’ve done nothing but bully and terrorize her, for seemingly no reason other than the fact that she was really smart - much smarter then them, and that seemed to offend them. Now all of a sudden they were acting all nice and as if they were her friends...it was really weird. 

While she was suspicious, her dads on the other hand had been been thrilled and even encouraged her to accept the invite, hoping that it meant that she was starting to make new friends, after years of having just a few close ones from her childhood. Leona hadn’t told them about her bullies so it wasn’t like they were to know, so reluctantly, she had agreed to go.

The first two hours on the boat was fine, if not really awkward. Always perceptive, Leona could see right through their phony smiles and friendly behaviors - they were definitely up to something. It wasn’t until the sun started to go down, that their demeanor changed, like someone had just flipped their on switch.  They lunged for her and started physically beating her, taking turns hitting her and kicking her and tearing at her clothes. Then the leader of the three - Lizzie - bound Leona’s hands in rope while the others held her down.

Once she was bound, Leona was hauled to her feet and then pushed overboard, where the fell into the depths of the open, ice cold waters of the Atlantic ocean. Though she was a rather strong swimmer, with her hands bound Leona was helpless and so she was quick to sink below the surface, all the while struggling to undo the bindings.

It was only thanks to Lizzie being terrible at tying knots that saved Leona’s life. It took a while, but she was able to loosen up the rope enough to slip her hands free, and she was able to make her way back up to the surface, with only just a few short seconds of breath to spare. When she re-surfaced, she saw that the harbor patrol had spotted the entire incident and had been quick to respond. Lizzie and her two accomplices - Marisa and Erin - were immediately apprehended. Upon seeing Leona floating precariously in the water, the officer was quick to throw a life preserver to her and helped pull her out and into the squad boat.

As all three girls were sixteen, they were tried in court as adults and sentenced to jail for attempted murder for several years. They would likely head to prison once they turned 18.

Due to this very traumatic incident, Leona has since been extremely terrified of deep, and dark water. Although she is adamant able never getting on another boat for the rest of her life, deep down she really wants to conquer her fear. She’d always loved going sailing on her dads’ boat and misses being on the water, but the thought of actually being on one and being surrounded by the wide, open sea just terrifies her to no end.

This incident is widely known around Derry, so the locals who’ve been in town for at least nine years would have certainly heard about it and the trial of the three older teen girls that followed. It was on the news - TV and newspaper alike.

Interests / Likes / Dislikes / Habits

She practically lives at Bartini, the local night club. She works there as head bartender, and has been there for a year, and it’s never really seemed like work to her. She thrives on the atmosphere of the place, and if it weren’t for closing times during the daylight hours, she’d likely spend all day there if she could.

Getting drunk and high constantly, practically every other day (she goes on day-long benders sometimes)

Likes going to a good party, and has a pretty good ‘partydar’ - in which she tends to find parties quite easily. She was such a good girl in high school, and now that she was an adult and living in her own place with her roommates, she felt free to do as she pleased.

Gets along with most everyone, especially those she considers her ‘inner circle’ - those that she’d ride or die for.

She’s a LOT more social now as a young adult than she ever was as a teen, and she actually enjoys being in the thick of things and having a good, strong network of friends or just friendly acquaintances all around her. Because of her job at Bartini and the fact that she spends ninety percent of her time either working down at the club, partying elsewhere in town or going on walks and bike rides around Derry at any give hour, she has a tendency to run into a lot of the locals. Because of that, a lot of people knew who she was, and she them.

 Of course, she knows that the incident with her near death was also a well known and talked about event several years back so most already knew who she was to begin with. She HATED being known as the Derry girl who was nearly murdered by some of her classmates - it was a terrible stigma and tended to bring back horrible memories whenever it was brought up. She much preferred being associated with her job or as the local wanderer.

LOATHES bullies, given her past with them. She refuses to be a victim, and she will not stand to see others being one as well.

LOVES to cuddle, and is super clingy to those she considers her closest friends and family members. Her friendship comes with it’s own little warning label - Warning: Don’t be friends with Leona Lancaster if you don’t like to snuggle.

Has a beautiful singing voice, and isn’t shy about breaking out into song at random, and sometimes in rather inappropriate places.

Has a fantastic fashion sense. She absolutely loves fashion and therefore, loves shopping. The part of her paychecks that don’t go towards her bills and drug addiction, goes towards her rather expansive wardrobe.

Biography

Was actually born in Chicago, IL., to a drug addicted teenage mother (although this fact is unknown to her) who wanted nothing to do with her after she was born. She was put up for adoption almost as soon as she came into the world.

Luckily, she was adopted just a short time later (at six months old) by Alistair and Antonio Lancaster. They were a happily married gay couple from Maine who were looking to adopt a second child. They already had a son, who that they had also adopted.

Leona grew up, alongside her older brother in Derry, Maine. In her early years, she was a happy child, easily making friends with the other locals who were close to you own age. She had a few neighbors who she quickly became besties for life with. To this day, adult Leona cherished every single one of them, and thought of them as an extension of her family.

From a very early age, it was clear to everyone in her family that she was highly intellectual - like, genius level smart. Leona had e a much higher IQ than most her age, and she quickly found her classes to be a breeze - so much so, in fact, that she was inevitably forced by both her parents and the school administrators to skip several grades. She found the entire experience mortifying and traumatic, as all the kids she now had to surround herself with were much older and bigger than her. She hated it.

Of course, being the smallest and youngest in her class resulted in several painful years of humiliation and bullying. Mainly from three specific girls - Lizzie, Erin and Marisa. They were three years older than her and tormented her throughout jr and high school. 

At the age of 13, her three main tormentors were arrested and locked away after nearly drowning Leona. The entire town was quick to learn about the attempt on her life and the subsequent arrest of the girls responsible, but it didn’t make her last year of high school any easier. 

 By the time her high school graduation came around, the then 14-year-old had been ecstatic and relieved to finally be leaving high school behind.

When her dads tried to push her into going to college right after, Leona had adamantly refused to go. She wanted to wait until she was 18 or even older, determined not to have another repeat of her high school years, where she was several years younger than everyone else.

When she finally turned 18, instead of heading to college like she said she would, Leona moved out of her dads’ house and headed to Portland, tired of being in Derry, and feeling like she needed to escape the stigma that still followed her around.

While in Portland, she became roomies with a few of young adults who were quick to introduce Leona into the life of drugs and alcohol and sex, and it hadn’t taken her long to get addicted. Not just to the substances, but to the lifestyle of partying and not giving a fuck about anything. With such an overactive and constantly running mind, she found that if she took enough drugs and drank enough alcohol, that her brain would finally be able to slow the hell down and be quieted, if only temporarily - sometimes enough to let her sleep a full eight hours, other times it was just a couple, but she'd honestly take what she could get.

She stayed in Portland for two years. At the age of 21, she attended a mixology course, and when she was finished Leona decided to move back to Derry, feeling homesick. She hadn’t seem her brother, or dads or any of her friends in the two years she’s been gone and she missed them terribly. 

Instead of moving back in with her dads, though - in fear of them discovering her addiction and forcing her into rehab - she became housemates to Prissy Goldwyn, one of her childhood best friends and someone she still remained close friends with throughout their teen years. It was an easy friendship to maintain, since Prissy lived just a few houses down from hers.

Her dads may not know about her plethora of problems with alcohol or drugs, but her brother certainly did and worried for her a great deal. The two were very close and he didn’t like that she was destroying herself and wasting her potential.

- W A N T E D   C O N N E C T I O N S -

Dad #1 - her adopted father. (50+, Hug Jackman, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Robert Downy Jr, Idris Elba, UTP) Any ethnicity

Dad #2 - her OTHER adopted father. (45+, Oscar Isaacs, UTP) Any ethnicity, although I did picture him being of Latino descent.

Older Brother - Adopted. (28-32 - Ryan Guzman (first pick), Logan Lerman (second pick), Diego Boneta, UTP) He can be of any ethnicity, as well.

Childhood Friends (CAN BE MULTIPLE PEOPLE) - friends she’s had since she was very young. They used to play together all the time in their youth, and have either remained in touch over the years, or they’ve lost touch (since Leona ended up skipping several grades - she left 3rd grade behind to go into 6th).

Co-Workers - either someone who is also a bartender for Bartini Dance Club, or who works there as like a dancer or server or something. Leona does fill in as a dancer some times, when they’re short-staffed and need a fill-in.

Drug Dealer - she will definitely need a drug dealer around town. Whether they have a good rapport with one other, or it’s literally just a business exchange - either way will work and would be welcome.

Inner Circle - those that she considers “her people”. The ones she would do anything for, and who would do anything for her in return. She loves these individuals dearly and with her whole heart, and she is fiercely protective of them - whether they’re in need of her protection or not - but also they’re the ones she’s the most cuddly and clingy to.

#derrybio #most of her info is the same #i just added a few extra things #this is SO DAMN LONG #i don't blame anyone if they don't bother reading any of it #hopefully it's not too much of a mess #OPEN TO PLOTS!! #OPEN TO CONNECTIONS!! #might go in and fine-tune things later

[componentplanet]

2020 Subaru Legacy Tech Dive: EyeSight, DriverFocus, Starlink Shine

Subaru Legacy Touring XT 2020 (April)

The 2020 Subaru Legacy is a near-perfect car if you’re looking for solid transportation and extensive safety technology across all trim lines. Every Legacy has all-wheel-drive, and enough driver-assist technology to be virtually self-driving on highways while protecting pedestrians in town (called Subaru EyeSight), track and alert inattentive drivers (DriverFocus), and call for help in an accident (Subaru Starlink).

The new, 2020 seventh-generation Legacy also has front cupholders deep enough to not spill a 32-ounce Big Gulp, were the car capable of a 4-second 0-60 run (it’s more like 7 to 9 seconds, depending on the engine). The engine’s “boxer” technology, similar to what Porsche uses, lowers the car’s center of gravity. The front and back rows are spacious and the trunk is enormous. Highway mileage is in the upper thirties.

So what’s not to like? Not much. This Subie won’t move the excitement needle quite like Mazda or Honda does among midsize sedans. It’s not as dazzling as the 2020 Hyundai Sonata. There’s less ground clearance than the similar Subaru Outback crossover. The new infotainment system and navigation had a few quirks, the kind a firmware upgrade typically cures, and stop-start twisted the steering wheel and my thumb a couple of times (more below).

The Nappa leather cockpit of the 2020 Subaru legacy.

The Car for Inattentive Drivers?

You say you’re a good driver; I say I’m a good driver. Yet surveys find the majority of Americans self-describe themselves as above-average drivers, which is statistically impossible. And yet, we also know people close to us whose driving skills or cognition worry us: teenagers and others in their first few years of driving, aging parents, a spouse or partner who’s had a couple of fender-benders that were the fault of “the other guy,” and people who text or create on-the-fly playlists even when they know it’s unsafe.

Subaru is a leader among automakers in making virtually all its safety technology standard across every one of the six trim lines, or model variants, of this new 2020 car. Buy any Legacy Base, Premium, Sport, Limited, Limited XT, or Touring XT and you get:

A dual front-facing camera system, Subaru EyeSight, to keep you in your driving lane, warn of / brake for possible forward collisions, detect and brake for pedestrians at speeds up to 20 mph.

Full-range adaptive cruise control as part of EyeSight.

An active driving assistance system that controls speed and lane centering, pacing any car in front of you, also part of EyeSight.

LED low and high-beam headlamps with automatic high-beam control.

All-wheel-drive for extra grip in snow or rain, or on gravel roads.

Any Legacy other than the base model has safety telematics (called Subaru Starlink) standard. Blind-spot warning is available, optional on two trim lines and standard on three; it also includes rear cross-traffic alert and automatic braking while backing up. An excellent eye-tracking driver distraction system, DriverFocus, is standard on the top two trim lines and optional on a third.

One feature not offered is a surround-view camera array that primarily improves tight-spaces parking, but it also protects you (if you watch the screen) from running into kids’ tricycles or kids on tricycles. Rear auto-braking provides that protection.

With the 260-hp turbo engine (top two trim lines only), you’ll hit 60 in 6-7 seconds. Add 2 seconds for the 182 hp engine on other Legacies.

Legacy on the Road: Mostly Smooth Sailing

I drove the top-of-the-line 2020 Subaru Legacy Touring XT, about $37,000 including shipping, with warm brown Nappa leather, moonroof, an 11-inch portrait-orientation center stack LCD, vented front seats, heated fronts and rears, onboard navigation, and immense amounts of back-seat legroom and trunk room.

Subaru lie-flat boxer engine: two cylinders go left, two cylinders go right.

With the new, 2.4-liter turbo engine of 260 hp and continuously variable transmission on the Limited and Touring XTs, it was quick, hitting 60 mph in 6-7 seconds. Highway miles went by quickly. Under foot-down acceleration, there wasn’t much noise from the CVT transmission; some testers have noted it on the non-turbo Legacy that has to be pushed harder to get up to highway speeds.

Most four-cylinder-engine cars have an inline design. Most Subarus including the Legacy have horizontally opposed, flat or boxer engines. They are effectively V engines where the angle is 180 degrees, not the 60 or 90 degrees of V6 or V8 engines. The engine is more compact, has less inherent vibration, gives the car a lower center of gravity, and allows for a lower hood and better driver sightlines. Against that, the engine requires two cylinder heads. Porsche also uses flat-six engines in the 911, Cayman, Spyder, and Boxster. The term boxer alludes not to the small crate it fits in, but rather the in-out motion of the two adjacent pistons that looks like a boxer’s fists.

Where most automakers use a combination of radar and a camera for driver assists, Subaru’s Eyesight system uses stereoscopic cameras. It’s standard on the 2020 Legacy, Forester, Outback, and Ascent; and available on the Impreza, Crosstrek, and WRX.

Pedestrian Detection Saves Another Jaywalker

Highway driving was enjoyable with the driver assists, a nicely sound-insulated cabin, very good Harman Kardon premium audio, Wi-Fi on Starlink telematics cars, and USB jacks for four people. In town, the driver assists work well; a jaywalker who popped out mid-block was picked up and the car came to a quick (sudden) stop. But spirited back-roads driving was not as much fun as some other cars in its class, notably the Mazda6 and Honda Accord. The 2020 Subaru Legacy is based on the same new platform as the 2020 Subaru Outback crossover-almost-wagon. But the Legacy’s ground clearance is 5.9 inches to 8.7 inches for the Outback. So the Legacy is fine in the rain, snow, and on gravel roads, but not the first choice in Subarus if the road to your country cabin is deeply rutted.

Subaru has rudimentary self-driving capabilities utilizing EyeSight, although Subaru doesn’t consider it to be formal self-drive tech and has no Eye-something shorthand name such as, say, EyeDrive. (BMW might not be amused.) Once activated, it centers you on a highway and proceeds at a pre-set speed, slowing for cars in front of you. It combines Subaru’s Advanced Adaptive Cruise Control feature with Lane Centering. As with other vehicles, activation is a multi-step process.

DriverFocus, on upper trim lines, combines a camera and infrared illuminator. It watches to see if the driver’s eyes are on the road ahead.

DriverFocus: Big Brother Is on Your Side

Take your eyes off the road, and the DriverFocus eye-tracker tells you to pay attention.

Subaru DriverFocus, an eyebrow module at the top of the center stack, contains a camera and IR illuminator to track where the driver is looking, and rats you out after 10-15 seconds of not looking ahead. GM’s highly regarded Super Cruise self-driving technology uses eye-tracking also.

Some driver-attention monitors count the micro-movements a driver continually makes as he or she drives.

I had two concerns with my test car: I was startled a couple of times by the gas-saving stop-start system. Occasionally as the engine came to a stop at a traffic light, the steering wheel on my test car abruptly turned a couple of inches and twice caught my thumb that was loosely holding the wheel next to the spoke. After the second time, I decided to keep my thumbs off the thumb grips once this car stopped at a light.

The infotainment system had trouble parsing some spoken commands, wanted to drive me to the intersecting street with the same name plus “Extension” at the end, and occasionally would not connect an iPhone using two different Apple cables or with Bluetooth. On sunny days, the LCD was sometimes hard to read and the brushed chrome-look trim strip around the center display reflected the sun’s glare.

The Subaru Legacy instrument panel. The center multi-information looks busy. (It is.) But it also gives the driver lots of information at a glance. If this feels like TMI, you can flip to simpler views.

EyeSight Is Improved, Still Unique

Subaru says EyeSight has been improved and I sensed that both in the ability to pick up a car ahead from a greater distance and to be less affected in the rain. In some ways, EyeSight in snowy conditions may be better than radar in that windshield wipers clear the paths in front of the two cameras. If snow blocks the radar sensor, you have to get out and scrape it off with a brush or your gloved hand, assuming the driver knows where the sensor is located in the grille. Also, snow and rain reduce the effectiveness of radar to some degree.

Subaru Legacy Touring XT, the top trim line.

Safety Features Abound

Even if you are a statistically good driver, a car such as the Legacy improves your odds of staying safe. It also improves pedestrians’ odds: A 2019 Insurance Institute for Highway Safety study found Eyesight-equipped Subarus reduce pedestrian-injury claims by 35 percent. IIHS also found Subarus with second-generation Eyesight did better than first-generation systems dating to 2010. IIHS said it found no significant self-selection bias, meaning the idea that safety-conscious good drivers might seek out safe-seeming Subarus and Volvos. Separately, IIHS found Subarus with EyeSight had up fewer rear-end collisions and passenger injuries.

How solid is Subaru on driver assists and safety technology? Here’s a rundown:

2020 Subaru Legacy Key Safety Technology, Driver Assists

Trim lines: Entry Middle Top Lane departure warning Std Std Std Lane-keeping assist Std Std Std Lane centering assist Std Std Std Blind-spot warning — $ / Std Std Adaptive cruise control Std Std Std Forward collision warning Std Std Std Auto emergency braking Std Std Std Pedestrian detection/braking Std Std Std Safety telematics (Starlink) — Std Std Driver-assist package (EyeSight) Std Std Std Driver monitoring (DriverFocus) — — / $ / Std Std Active driving assistance Std Std Std The table shows features as standard (Std), optional ($) or not available (–) on entry (Legacy base), middle (Premium, Sport, Limited, Limited XT) and top (Touring XT) trim lines.

Should You Buy?

The 2020 Subaru Legacy is a solid midsize car for people who don’t need a status symbol. The Legacy wins a lot of awards but not all of them. Consumer Reports has it as the best midsize sedan and one of only 10 CR Top Picks among 300 models for 2020. In contrast, Car and Driver put the Legacy eighth behind the Honda Accord, Hyundai Sonata, and the Mazda Mazda6, among others. Guess which publication favors safety features and comfortable ride versus spirited handling? The Legacy is also a 2020 IIHS Top Safety Pick+, which means good ratings in crash tests, advanced or superior ratings in available front crash prevention, and (the plus part) acceptable or good headlamps standard.

We like the Legacy a lot, even if within Subaru this is an outlier, a sedan in a company known for outdoorsy crossovers and SUVs: Crosstrek, Forester, Outback, Ascent. The Ascent had arguably been the best midsize SUV until the Kia Telluride / Hyundai Palisade came along last year. The Legacy had been unique in offering all-wheel-drive, but the Nissan Altima and Toyota Camry added it for 2020.

The steering wheel has big buttons and rockers, all legibly labeled. If only all cars were this clear with switchgear.

Subaru is a relatively reliable brand. The car is eminently practical. From the side, though, it’s hard to distinguish from a half-dozen other brands. Fuel economy is good, an EPA combined rating of 23 mpg for the turbo models, 29 mpg for the non-turbo. Real-world mileage should be several mpg higher, and with judicious driving, the non-turbo could approach 40 on the highway.

If you’re shopping Subaru for max safety, we’d suggest: Move past the Legacy base ($23,645 with freight) because you can’t get blind-spot warning / rear-cross-traffic alert or safety telematics, and past the Legacy Premium ($25,895) because you can get BSW / RCTA, but not reverse automatic braking (RAB). Blind-spot warning matters: Not all young drivers know to check side mirrors and look over their shoulders; older drivers may know, but may not have the dexterity to turn their heads sideways.

Every Legacy has dual front USB jacks (above) and, except for the base model (below), two more jacks in the back. Note how every jack and switch is nicely and legibly lettered.

The Legacy Sport ($27,845) lets you get BSW-RCTA-RAB in a $2,245 options package, along with a power moonroof and onboard navigation, for $30,090 total. Or for $30,645, you can get the Legacy Limited that includes BSW-RCTA-RAB, and the one options package, $2,045, gives you the moonroof again, a heated steering wheel, and DriverFocus. The top two trim lines, the Limited XT ($35,095) and Touring XT ($36,795), give you nice and nicer leather, DriverFocus, and the moonroof. So the sweet spot may be the Legacy Sport plus the options package, or the Legacy Limited, at about $30K each. Cross-brand shoppers comparing front-drive-only midsize competitors should attribute about $1,500 of Subaru’s price to AWD.

The Subaru Legacy should be at the top of your consideration set along with the Hyundai Sonata, the ExtremeTech 2020 Car of the Year. If you want a sporty car, look to the Mazda6, the Honda Accord, or – this is not a joke – the segment best-seller Toyota Camry with the TRD Sport, as in Toyota Racing Division.

Now read:

2020 Hyundai Sonata Review: Car of the Year? (It’s That Good)

Honda Accord Review: Way Better, and Honda Even Fixed Display Audio

2020 Subaru Forester Review: The Safety-First, Can’t-Go-Wrong-Buying-One Compact SUV

from ExtremeTechExtremeTech https://www.extremetech.com/extreme/309080-2020-subaru-legacy-review from Blogger http://componentplanet.blogspot.com/2020/04/2020-subaru-legacy-tech-dive-eyesight.html

#2020 Subaru Legacy Tech Dive: EyeSight #DriverFocus #Starlink Shine

[initiumseries]

Jessica Jones Review

This was a request, but I will keep it relatively short because I live posted most of my issues, and it didn’t get better lol.  So basically, my issues with JJ are twofold: Jessica Jones, as a character, is not interesting. Neither is Tricia, or Jeryn, they’re just...white lol. Most, if not all their problems are self created, and everyone else has to manage the fall out.  Second, as usual, antiblack trash. JJ proves to me, yet again, having white women in the writing room does not help antiblackness and misogynoir, like, at all. In a lot of cases, it just kind of, amplifies it.  Jessica had a hard life, so she drinks, I guess. She runs a detective agency, and for no reason at all, she keeps encountering people who want to love her, but she’s too damaged by being strong and living with her best friend, Tricia, and her mother- to just, be with them. Lolll. Okay. Who fucking cares? No one, that’s who. Not even the show, because we spend an inordinate amount of time with every BUT Jessica this season.   Ok let’s start with Jerry.  

She had me cutting the fuck UP this season, because I can’t imagine being diagnosed with ALS, knowing I’m like, actually dying, then bulldozing into an old flame’s life and blowing up hers AND mine, just to...I don’t even know what the POINT was. Neither did the writers. Ol’ girl tells Jerry that her and her husband are in an open marriage. Jerry takes her on dates to the orchestra and shit. They be fucking. SO WHAT’S THE PROBLEM?? She does A LOT, just to get her away from her husband, when she could have literally taken the information Malcolm found, and just...gave it to her. LOL. Also, guy gets exposed for embezzling, and then just...live video’s him killing himself? OH MY GOD, melodramatic and contrived!!!  What is anyone’s motivations here? When we’re introduced to Jerry in s1, she just seems like a fuck girl who likes smashing hot women and lives life hard and fast (theoretically), manipulating the women in her life, but also her clients etc. Cool. She’s kind of a bitch. I’m on board with that. But then this season, she suddenly becomes obsessed with this Brown woman we’ve NEVER seen before (unless I’m wrong, cuz I hopped tf out of s1 at some point but she def wasn’t in s2), smashes into her life, destroys it, then legit stands around like..wait so you’re just gonna...leave me here? LOL SIS WTF. It’s just...I resent how this show uses Black and Brown people as sites for white female dysfunction, and their lives and everything about them, becomes a fridge for these white female protagonists’ story arcs. I can’t say this enough because it’s annoying and it ONLY happens to the nonwhite characters.  For ex. so the brown guy down the hall from Jessica is gone, now, since I guess he’s not needed to make illegal documents (oh and wasn’t he also undocumented? LOL OK JJ), but his son can still keep coming to see her. Not weird at all. Whatever.  That white guy she starts boning in s3 gets a whole ass character arc. But the brown guy down the hall was just that for like...most of s2. Any “arc” he had was directly tied to JJ’s own story and arc.  Anyway, Jeryn’s motivations were basic and murky all season. She says her life is her work, and yet she set that all on fire for some old flame booty. Lmfao. She takes on the case of a serial murderer against powered people (and I really, REALLY resent the way “powered” people are constantly used as a placeholder for racism here, because like...that’s stupid), because Jessica and Tricia upset her lmfao. Jeryn was just..doing stuff. It was so redundant, but I guess the same could be said of her last season as well. Malcolm.  He starts off like this: 

LOOK AT HOW BLACK THAT ROOM IS.  He’s working for Jeryn, making money, got himself a good girlfriend he loves, some new, Black friends, living his Black ass, sober life, doing well now that these trainwreck white women are leaving him alone.  There’s no reason at all he should still be living here.  But Jessica, FOR NO REASON AT ALL, once again, bulldozes into his life and Malcolm ends the show with, being sexually assaulted by the sex working sister of the guy Jessica is boffing, beaten up by her pimp, quits his job, cheats on his girlfriend, for NO reason at all, with the same woman who assaulted him. He even ADMITS he sabotaged their relationship at the end of the season when she comes by to get her things, but before he can explain why he sabotaged a good thing, Ms. Lady, his assaulter, comes strutting out in no pants. Ok. Again, there’s no reason why she’s in Malcolm’s life at all. They made it seem like she was going to be relevant to the plot, but the Big Evil of this season kidnaps and tortures her brother, not her. She’s utterly useless except to ruin Malcolm’s life for no reason other than I guess there’s a ban on happy Black relationships on tv.  Tricia fucks her Black trainer, because I guess, using Black men as sexual draino for their self inflicted problems is a theme on this show. At least this time they lit Luke Cage properly so he wasn’t just eyes and teeth. :/  Luke Cage makes a guest appearance in an ugly ass olive suit to be Jessica’s moral compass on how to deal with Trish. Mmmkay. 

Malcolm has nothing left I guess so he might as well also moonlight as Tricia’s moral compass, because I guess that’s all non white people are good for on this show.  And it was a waste of time, because Tricia, on a pretty serious bender to completely ruin her life for absolutely no reason at all other than she’s high on her own superiority complex, STILL turns around and murders the guy who tortured and killed her mother.  Now personally, I’m not particularly bothered that she went and got revenge. I think shows like theses equivocate these weird slippery slopes with “if I obtain revenge, I become the person who harmed me”, which is just...such a western perspective. And it’s stupid. But in this case, Tricia literally became the “Bad Guy”, just going off the rails attacking people and using a disproportionate amount of force with the help of the Human Divining Rod Jessica was boffing. Very convenient his power is seeing the evil in other people and being physically hurt by it (but not his own evil when he blackmails other people?? LOL). It was clear he existed for Jessica and Tricia’s story arcs to pivot off of, and yet he’s still handled with more interest and humanity. The show works really hard for you to feel sorry and/or conflicted about Tricia, but I don’t, because her problems aren’t real problems and she’s kind of crazy, and can’t manage to deal with her issues without ruining other people’s lives. I lived for the moments when Malcolm said: “You should just keep us on retainer, because I know you, you hurt as many people as you help.” and for that time Jessica SLAPPED the teeth out her mouth and got the phone she asked for after Tricia went on another self righteous unhinged diatribe about how great she is now because she can jump over stuff. She’s a cat now, so she’s unbeatable. Except when Jessica beats that ass  l m a o.   Anyway. Yeah, as we already knew, this show sucks. The whole Big Bad of the season was a disgruntled white man who was smarter than them and mad at women. LOL. Ok.  None of these characters are interesting or likeable. No growth. Abuse of non white people. Boring storylines, meandering plots. It’s just an overall trainwreck and I’m pretty sure this is the last season of JJ and I’m glad because we didn’t deserve to be hurt with any seasons of this. I was lowkey hoping they wouldn’t do Malcolm the way they did, but I’m not surprised. Overall -5/10

#jj #jessica jones #jeryn hogarth #patsy walker #luke cage #malcolm ducasse #text post #long post

[littlenightingale98]

Zutara Month Day 1- Vigilantes

Zuko wiped the blade of his sword clean. Nearby, Katara was bending the blood off the cobblestone. This was how they worked. This was how they would save their home.

The Hundred Year War had ended long ago. But there was a new threat to peace. A group of non-benders were taking a stand against what, to them at least, was the real evil in the world.

Countless benders had died already. How these people were managing to pull that off, Firelord Zuko had no idea. But he did know one thing. They had to be stopped.

Katara sighed. Zuko turned to look at his wife. Her face was grim. "Hey, are you okay?", He asked, his voice laced with concern.

She looked up, catching her husband's deep golden gaze. "No. I'm not okay."

Zuko sheathed his sword. He didn't like seeing her like this. Katara had a soft spot for people in general. She was a kind, caring soul. A healer. But, if need be, she was also the strongest fighter he knew. She had saved his life on more than one occasion.

He pulled her into a tight hug. "It's gonna be okay, Kat. I promise. It may take a while. It's gonna be a fight. It's gonna be a struggle. The good side always wins, though."

Her eyes were fierce when she pulled back from the hug. "You've got that right. Let's do this."

"That's my girl," Zuko said before planting a light kiss on her forehead.

They both turned to face the entrance to the rebellion leader's headquarters. This was their final stand, just the two of them. This was life or death.

Katara pulled water from the pouch tied around her waist. She swirled the water around her, slowly lifting her arms so it pooled over her head.

She threw her arms forward. The water hit the door so hard it knocked it off the hinges. Screams erupted from the room. Katara positioned herself to strike again, this time throwing guards instead of a door. She glanced at Zuko, giving him a sharp nod that signaled he should go in now. They had developed this system long ago when they were only teenagers. She would watch his back while he went after the main target. Should something happen while he was fighting said target, she would be right there to take over.

Zuko ran into the room as soon as he got the okay. A chuckle sounded straight in front of Zuko. He lifted his eyes to see a man dressed in black clothing sitting on a chair that closely resembled a throne. "My, my, my, waterbender. Look what a mess you made out of my throne room."

Zuko hissed. "Don't speak to her."

The leader chuckled again. "I don't take orders from you, Firelord Zuko. See, your family started all of this. Now it's my job to end it."

"The war has been over for years!", Zuko exclaimed.

"Yes, that's true. But. The hatred of non-benders from the Fire Nation has not ended. In fact, it's rubbed off on the other three nations."

Katara stepped into the room now. "And that's inexcusable. Just like what you are doing. Benders are people too!"

Another chuckle. "Firelady Katara. You're right. They are people. They're people who threaten my existence. At one point you knew what that felt like. Then you turned around and married the man that did those horrible things to you and your family. I'm not gonna take morality advice from a traitor."

Katara ground her teeth together. She clenched her fists so tight she could feel blood running down her finger tips from her palms. "Zuko is not responsible for the actions of his father."

The man shrugged. "If you say so. The fact still remains, however. He did hurt you in other ways."

Venom spewed into Katara's voice. "I forgave him for all of that. He never killed anyone that was innocent for what he believed in. You did. You're no better than Ozai."

Suddenly, side doors to the room busted open. Guards poured into the room. Zuko and Katara turned so their backs were touching. Katara pulled the water from her pouch and let it climb up her arms. Zuko's palms grew warm as he produced fire that climbed up the blade of his sword. They were surrounded.

They leaped away from one another, nearly jumping straight into the crowd of guards that surrounded them. They each threw their element, allowing them to collide in the middle of the room where they had been standing only seconds before.

Steam rolled over them and the guards. Nobody could see anything. This was another trick they had developed during their battles.

Zuko expertly cut the guards down, dancing with the blades like they were a part of him. He would slice one guard, only to twirl and bury the blade hilt-deep in the chest of another.

Katara spun the water around her body, dancing with the element. She threw spears from the belt of water when a guard got too close. She threw with deadly accuracy, hitting jugular after jugular, spraying the room with blood.

One last guard on Katara's side remained. She used the water for a whip this time, twirling her body and landing in a crouch. The blade of the guards sword had caught her cheek as she flipped over him. She felt a tiny trickle of her own blood making its way down her face. She used one gloved hand to wipe it away before standing and turning to face her husband.

"You're defenseless," Zuko said to the rebellion leader. "You might as well surrender."

"Never." The word came out as a hiss. The man quickly grabbed something in his robes, and launched the thing at Katara.

Zuko's world came crashing down around him when Katara's scream split the air. It was something he had heard many times in his nightmares. A throwing knife was buried hilt deep in the left side of her chest.

Near her heart.

Zuko didn't have time to run to her. During his shocked phase, the man had leaped from the throne onto the floor, narrowly missing Zuko's back. Zuko spun to face the man, seeing nothing but red. Tears pricked his eyes. "How dare you."

"One less bender in the world, dear boy. And when I'm done with you, it'll be two less."

The man lashed forward with his sword. Zuko pushed his own blade forward, using it as a shield. Sparks flew from the sharp metal as the two blades met.

Zuko spun again, trying to get a good angle on his enemy. The man dodged with ease, once again striking his sword against Zuko's. This dance continued for what seemed like eternity.

Finally, the two men broke apart. Their breath was ragged. Their bodies were drenched in sweat. Their hearts raced like that of a race ostrich-horse.

The rebellion leader screamed, once again rocketing himself towards Zuko's chest. The blade found it's target, ripping Zuko's shirt and leaving a trail through the skin of his chest.

Zuko cried out in pain, falling backwards from the force of the attack. He lay there, ears ringing, waiting for the killing blow. Waiting for the stab wound that would reunite him with his beautiful wife.

But it never came.

Zuko opened one golden eye to search the room. Only to be met with a sight he didn't expect. Not in a million years.

Katara was up, on her feet, fighting despite the blade that was hilt deep in her chest. She threw wave after wave of water against the man who had hurt them, barely giving him a split second to catch some air between her attacks. Her face was twisted in pain, but nevertheless, she continued to fight. She was determined to end this man, once and for all.

She finally stood less than two feet away from the man. She used her bending to turn the water into an ice javelin. "Any last words?", She hissed through her teeth.

The man laughed, spitting out a mouthful of blood where the water had knocked some of his teeth out. "This isn't the last you've heard of me, Firelady Katara. Years from now, your children and grandchildren will still be struggling against us. They will die. We will win. You can't defeat us all."

"Watch me," she said before slamming the ice javelin through his throat. The man grabbed at the ice, his breath rattling through the hole in his neck. Blood poured down his chest and onto the floor. His feet began slipping in it, ripping the hole in his neck wider and causing more blood to spill.

Finally the man died, pinned to the wall by Katara's ice. She dropped her fists, releasing the water. The man's body slumped to the ground.

Zuko walked closer to Katara. "Are you okay, my love?," He asked.

She grimaced, lightly touching the blade that still rested in her chest. "I'm fine.", She said before facing him. She stood on her tip-toes, planting a soft kiss on his lips. "Let's go let the world know."

Later that night, Zuko lay next to Katara, admiring what he almost lost that day. She now had a soft bandage where the knife had been only hours before. The doctor had no idea how she managed to survive it, but she had. She was just lucky, he guessed.

As was Zuko. Katara had been keeping a secret from him for the last month. His hand found her belly, and a smile spread across his face. She was going to be the mother of his child.

She mumbled in her sleep before turning over and nestling herself deeper into his chest. He gently raised his hand to push a stand of dark brown hair away from her face. Memories flashed in his mind, taking him back through all the years he'd spent with the pretty waterbender. They really were a force to be reckoned with. You couldn't hurt them, you couldn't break them.

God help anybody that dared to try.

#katara #fire lord zuko #prince zuko #avatar the last airbender #zuko #zuko x katara #zutara #my otp #firebender #waterbender #zutara month #fanfic

[implodingvolcanoes]

A Father’s Struggle

This is a Legend of Korra fanfiction written for the incredible @threehoursfromtroy! Thank you for your thoughtful, outstanding contributions to this fandom, and I hope you feel better soon. And thank you, @thewillowtree3 for organizing this.

The fic is really two separate stories grafted on top of each other (hence the tense switch halfway through.) Also the keep reading cut doesn’t work on mobile, not sure why.

Tonraq opened the front door and squinted into the howling storm.

    “She should’ve been back two hours ago,” he muttered. The warrior turned and strode over to the fire. He fed it a piece of wood, lips pursed, and paced around the living room.

Senna was never late.

    Hail pelted the door and hammered the walls. Tonraq’s throat constricted. What if she was lost? What if the storm had blown her hat off, and his wife was shivering out in the tundra somewhere, her face turning blue—

    “Da-da!” Korra shuffled into the room, rubbing her eyes. The three-year-old let out a huge yawn, her shirt riding up over an ample brown belly. She looked around the room, frowning. “Mommy?”

    Tonraq scooped up his only child and sat in front of the fire. “Mommy’s getting more wood. She’ll be back soon.”

    Korra rocked back and forth in his lap. “We pengin.”

    Tonraq sighed. He had promised to take her penguin sledding, but this storm had come out of nowhere. “I know, sweetheart. We just can’t go out right now. When the weather calms down, we’ll go on the best penguin sledding trip ever. OK?”

    She leaped out of his lap and huffed. “You said. I nap!”

Oh, no. Her nap had lasted a full two hours; in his worry, Tonraq had forgotten to wake her. Now Korra wasn’t going to sleep at all tonight, and she was well-rested for her inevitable tantrum. Wonderful.

    The warrior held out his hands. Of course his daughter had inherited his own stubborn temper. “We can’t go outside, Korra. I’m sorry.”

    Korra stamped over to the fire, her little figure black against it. “Aang did!”

    Tonraq frowned. Avatar Aang had gone penguin sledding? At the South Pole? He wracked his brain but couldn’t come up with the story she was talking about. Senna probably had told her at some point.

She spun around to face Tonraq. “You said!” Korra jabbed a finger at his face—and a stream of yellow fire shot towards him.

    Tonraq reflexively punched right, drawing water from a nearby pot. The water blocked most of the blast, but Tonraq’s face still seared from the heat. As the yellow glow faded, his heart sped up. Fire? Was he dreaming?

    Tonraq stepped around the puddle of water, gingerly touching his face. Korra held her arms away from her sides. She looked up at him and backed away.

    “Da-da hurt!” Korra slid along the wall and ran into her room.

    “Korra!” Tonraq ran to follow her when the front door opened and Senna stumbled inside, pink-cheeked, a bundle of wood under her arm. Tonraq spun around and ran towards her.

    “Senna!” Tonraq relieved his wife of the wood, brushed snow from her coat, and led her to the fireplace. She sat down heavily and exhaled.

    “Are you alright? I was so scared you were lost,” he breathed. The wind howled at the door.

Senna leaned into his shoulder. “I’m fine, I just had to camp out for a bit once the winds became too much to walk through.”

Tonraq sat beside her and rubbed some warmth into her shoulders. He glanced at Korra’s door. Tonraq had learned the hard way that his daughter didn’t like others around when she was upset; he should let her cool down before trying to console her.

He stared at the crackling fire, which was darker than the flames Korra had jabbed at him. That was a powerful fire blast--his water punch had been barely large enough to block it, and the heat had hurt him through the liquid.

“Why is the floor all wet?”

“It’s...umm,” Tonraq ran a hand through his hair, “it’s, because, well—Korra’s a firebender.” The words felt surreal rolling off his tongue.

Senna’s eyebrows flew into her hairline. A piece of snow fell off her sleeve. “Come again?”

“She was worried about you and mad that I couldn’t take her penguin sledding. She got angry and shot a fireball at me. It happened right before you walked in.”

Senna shot up in her seat. “She bent fire at you? Are you hurt?” She scanned his face. Her fingers hovered over his slightly burnt nose and cheek.

“You need a healer, or at least some water.” The housewife walked to the water bucket; Tonraq followed her. Now might be a good time to check on Korra.

“Why didn’t you take care of this before?” Senna demanded, plastering a wet rag onto his cheek.

“It all happened so fast, I couldn’t even think,” Tonraq mumbled, holding the cloth. “Besides, it’s not that bad of a burn. We can grab a healer after the storm stops and Korra’s okay.”

Senna nodded reluctantly, sat back by the fireplace, and passed a hand over her eyes. “How could she have—? None of your relatives...?”

“I’m Northern Water Tribe through and through.”

She stared at him. “All my ancestors were from the South Pole.”

He knew that. He also knew that Korra was Senna’s baby. There was only one other explanation, but it stuck in Tonraq’s throat. He saw in Senna’s eyes that she knew what he was thinking.

“I would never, ever cheat on you, Tonraq.”

He reached for her shoulder. “I know, sweetie.”

She swiped his hand away. “Then why even entertain the idea?”

Stony silence. The wind roared outside their large igloo. The fire crackled in defiance.

Tonraq got up and paced the length of the room. His heart beat painfully. Korra had never shown any signs of waterbending. All fantasies Tonraq had of teaching her water-punching or igloo-building swirled away. If Korra had been a non-bender, he could at least teach her how to fight. But their daughter was a firebender, and Tonraq didn’t know anything about using fire.

“Maybe it’s a mutation,” Senna finally suggested.

“Hmm.” Tonraq stared into the fire. “I don’t think that happens, though.”

“How are we going to train her? What will the other villagers say?”

Before Tonraq could even consider the last question, Korra’s door burst open and a pudgy blur crashed into Senna.

“Mommy!” The three-year-old’s eyes were wide. “Wind got you!”

Senna scooped the girl into her lap. “I’m right here, sweetheart,” Senna murmured. Korra snuggled into her mother’s frame and stared at Tonraq.

“Da-da hurt.”

His heart twinged at her guilty face. “It’s okay, you didn’t hurt me.” The warrior sat down and held out his hands to the toddler. “See? Daddy’s alright.”

Korra squinted at him and poked his cloth-covered cheek. Tonraq tried and failed to avoid wincing.

“Korra, sweetheart, don’t touch that,” Senna ordered, pulling her away. But Tonraq let the rag fall. Korra’s lip trembled.

“Tonraq!” Sennna admonished. “Why traumatize her?”

“She’s confused,” the warrior muttered, “and besides, sooner or later she’ll see the burn.” Plus, his daughter always seemed like a tough kid.

To Tonraq’s surprise, she didn’t cry. Korra whimpered and wriggled out of her mother’s lap, crawling onto Tonraq instead. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder.

“Sorry, Da-da,” Korra wailed, “Pengin sledding.”

Tonraq held his child close and kissed her head. “Shh, it’s okay,” he murmured.

She pulled away and glared at him. “No!” She reached out for his burned face, and the water from his discarded rag rose to coat her hand. Senna gasped in front of him. The toddler touched his cheek, and the water glowed. His angry skin cooled and relaxed. Tonraq closed his eyes in relief.

Korra slid her hand across his nose, calming the burn, and Tonraq’s eyes snapped open.

She’s healing me.

Her hand dropped. Tonraq touched his face; his burn was completely gone. He nearly fell into the fire. The warrior locked eyes with his wife, who was staring at their daughter as if she had descended from the Spirit World.

“Da-da hurt?” Her fierce blue eyes flickered with something Tonraq had seen once before, as though there were other people looking at him through Korra’s eyes.

He regained his voice. “Daddy’s doing fine,” he squeaked. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

A snort of laughter. “You should see your face, Tonraq,” Senna laughed, “it’s priceless.” Her eyes returned to their daughter and became serious.

He grumbled and buried his face in Korra’s hair. His heart was thumping again.

“You’re the Avatar,” Tonraq whispered.

His kid.

Was the Avatar.

What was he going to do?

---------------

Twenty years later, and Tonraq still remembered that day like it was yesterday: the wind beating at their door, the burst of heat searing his face, Korra’s horror. His horror.

Of course, none of their lives were the same after that. They managed to hide Korra’s firebending, and later her earthbending, for a few years. But all it took was one backyard accident for the White Lotus to invade their little South Pole village like polar bear dogs tracking a scent, to imprison his daughter in an icy fortress.

Once she released herself into the world, he tracked her progress through what few newspapers made their way to their edge of the world. At first, Korra was all power with no finesse, pride with little humility. She made nearly all the same mistakes Tonraq himself did, really. Just on a larger scale. Sneaking into pro-bending championships, challenging that councilman to a duel, probably pushing poor Tenzin to his breaking point over and over.

He and Senna changed. His wife withdrew, throwing herself into the daily management of their house, packed as it often was with villagers ironing out one dispute or another. Tonraq ruled their village and kept his struggles to himself.

All his life, Tonraq had been bound by tradition. Carry on the family name. Study to become king, a great warrior, brave and level-headed. He always was good at the former, the latter not so much. Tonraq always fit into the heavyhanded customs of the North, all elaborate palaces and ritualistic coming-of-age ceremonies. His own transition into adulthood had involved him killing a seal and dressing it in all the paraphernalia befitting the first official solo kill of the future king. When idiot Unalaq drove him out of his home by using Tonraq’s foolish mistakes against himself, Tonraq tried to relax. Things were calmer, more democratic in the South, and he did his best to accommodate this new way of life. He still held Council in his house, but it was more egalitarian, less rigid. But he always tried to stick to some of what he knew, tried to import some Northern customs here.

And now, his daughter was bound by a different tradition. But the White Lotus had barely bothered to educate him and Senna on what to expect, what to do, how to prepare for their daughter’s inevitable transformation into a living legend. Sure, they threw out some vague appeals to keeping the world in balance, mediating conflicts, spiritual harmony, blah blah. But it wasn’t anything Tonraq could touch or see, anything he could help with. His inability to influence his daughter’s life, to teach her that maybe honoring tradition could be helpful in times of conflict, frustrated him to no end. And Tonraq knew that whatever Avatar teachings she had been given actually helped. After all, unlocking airbending to defeat that Amon character required some sort of spiritual freedom, right? Wasn’t that what Tenzin was always preaching?

He had tried, when Korra came home periodically, to offer her some guidance. Told her to listen to Tenzin, to the White Lotus, to whatever traditions had been laid out before her. But Korra rebuffed his advice, repeatedly, and he worried. But even without his help, his girl transformed into someone incredible. She defeated his brother, brought back the airbenders, helped end Kuvira’s tyranny. All in a few short years.

And now he finds himself seated across the table from one Asami Sato.

-------------------

    “These seaweed noodles are excellent, Senna,” the heiress offers, flashing his wife a slightly nervous smile. With her expensive-looking coat draped over the back of one of their rough wooden chairs and her posture a bit too rigid, Miss Sato looks sorely out of place.

    “Thank you, dear,” Senna returns. “They’re Korra’s favorite.”

    “Mmm-hmm,” his daughter mumbles, her cheeks bulging. Korra swallows. “S’all good stuff.”

Tonraq manages to smile at Korra. He can’t ignore how happy she looks, practically glowing. Especially when she looks at Asami. Something in his stomach churns.

Miss Sato glances at him, and her lipsticked smile falters. Tonraq can’t help but stare her down, this woman who stole his daughter’s heart. Years ago, apparently. Of course he’s heard of Asami Sato, head of Future Industries, daughter of the notorious Equalist CEO. But to see her in person, dating his daughter, Tonraq doesn’t know what to do with himself. The steam rising from his bowl suddenly feels like his daughter’s first fire punch--a sudden wave of heat, some life-changing revelation he doesn’t want.

Tonraq manages to slurp down the rest of his food and make clipped small talk, the gentle fire in the hearth doing little to ease the tension in his face. Korra, to her credit, doesn’t blow up at him, although judging from her eyes, she knows he is upset. He excuses himelf as soon as he is able and steals out the back door.

The air outside of their igloo is so bitterly cold, he almost freezes onto the snow. Tonraq takes a few deep breaths, welcomes the sting.

His daughter is in love with a woman. It’s obvious. Her hand, steady and sure on the heiress’s back. The way his baby looks at her. His daughter taking for granted that they would be okay with it. That he would be okay with it.

Same-sex relationships were never discussed in his house. Or on the smooth streets of the Northern capital, or at school. Anywhere, really. The topic never crossed his mind, except for faint memories of his distant cousin, gradually pushed out of the family by rumors that he had eloped with a man from one of the nearby villages. Tonraq had been around fifteen at the time when he overheard his parents muttering about the scandal of it all. At the time, of course, he had thought little of it. His cousin was just another one of those things best forgotten.

The smooth crashes of the ocean pull Tonraq out of his thoughts. He’s walked all the way to one of the cliffs overlooking the bay. Far away, a buoy bobs up and down against the moonlight.

Footsteps crunching in the snow. He knows who it is without turning around.

“It’s pretty cold,” his daughter mutters, burrowing deeper into her coat. Tonraq instinctively wraps an arm around her, but Korra shakes him off and walks to the edge of the cliff, her strong silhouette black against the moon.

“What happened to that Mako boy? He seemed nice enough.”

Her shoulders stiffen. That was not his best opener.

“We didn’t work out. You know that.”

“I know, but…”

Korra turns. “But what, dad?”

His voice falters. But what indeed?

“I didn’t--I just don’t want things to be hard for you.” After all, he can’t forget the way Korra reached up to touch his face after fighting Zaheer, struggling so hard against that damn poison.

Korra huffs, a puff of white. “No, dad. You don’t want things to be hard for you.”

Their conversations have always been like this: short and to the point. Feelings were never his or Korra’s strong suit. But he has to try, or he has a feeling that this night will end terribly. Tonraq sits on the snow, and after a brief hesitation, Korra follows suit.

He can’t bear to look at her. He stares out at the black ocean, and so does she. The space between them is hard like ice. Their breaths mingle with the rush of the waves.

“This is just hard for me, you being with her,” Tonraq starts. “I’ve never...you’ve always been so sure, and I’ve always been stumbling after you. Every new thing is something new for me, and something already okay with you.”

Korra opens her mouth, but he keeps going. “Moving to the city, finding your own way as the Avatar. Becoming a pro-bender.” His mouth quirks upward, despite himself. “You’ve always been so quick to do things your own way. You don’t stop and think about what other people might think, how they might do it.”

“How people want me to do things.” The edge is back in Korra’s voice. “You’ve always wished you could go back to the North and do things ‘right.’ If I had done everything the way people wanted me to, I wouldn’t have left that compound until now!”

That stings. “I never wanted you in that compound.”

She sighs and looks at him. He can’t see her expression, but he can picture it. “I know, dad,” Korra continues, a bit softer. “But, I mean, listening to Tenzin and not being with Asami are--they’re hardly the same thing. You just want me to do one thing ‘right’ so that you can feel like a good ruler or something, I don’t know.”

“I do not want to feel like a good ruler!” Tonraq’s fists clench, despite his best efforts. “I just know that sometimes things are easier when there’s a path laid out for you. And I am incredibly proud of you,” he adds, “and everything you’ve done. How can I not be?”

Korra mirrors his growing temper by standing abruptly. “I’ve done well enough without a ‘path laid out for me.’ And anyway, my entire life is basically laid out for me--I do have Avatar duties, you know. I don’t spend all my time on vacation in the Spirit World. And I do all my duties just fine, even if people don’t always agree with how I do them!”

Her voice is far too loud for the still night. Korra turns away.

“I’ve got to get back to the house,” she says, and walks away from him. Tonraq struggles to his feet and catches up to her, placing a hand on her strong shoulder. She shrugs him off.

“Korra,” he tries, but his daughter doesn’t pause.

“I know you have your whole life basically planned out for you. I did, too, you know.”

She slows slightly.

“As the prince, my future was dictated to me since the day I was born. And I clung to that, partly because it was comfortable and partly because I didn’t know what else to do.” Tonraq takes a deep breath. “And after--after your mother and I realized what you were, I tried to fall back to some sense of tradition, some guidance. Someone to tell me how to help you.”

He’s stopped completely, almost at the house, and she has too. “I thought that pushing Tenzin to help you, giving you advice--it would help, somehow,” he mutters, digging into the snow with his boot. “I just didn’t want you to feel lost like I did, moving out here with your mother.”

Korra takes a deep breath. “I know you’re just trying to help, and honestly,” she turns to him, “I know what it feels like to be lost.” Her voice falters, and Tonraq sees her in her wheelchair, staring at nothing. He shivers. “But I--I really like Asami, dad. I want to be with her.”

“I know, sweetheart,” he whispers. “I just need some time.”

    “We’ll be leaving for the city soon, so you’ll have a lot of time,” Korra replies. “And I do listen to other people, you know, occasionally. When they say something helpful.”

Senna is waving at them angrily, Asami standing awkwardly next to her. Reluctantly, the two of them start walking again. His butt is soaked from sitting on the cliff.

    Tonraq looks over at his daughter, half illuminated by the house lights, as unwavering in her convictions as she’s ever been. “I might not always agree with how you handle everything thrown your way, but I am still so proud of you,” he offers.

    “Thanks, dad,” Korra mumbles.

    They reach the house and Senna shoos them into the living room, glaring at him. “Where have you been,” she demands, “just walking off like that?”

    Tonraq pulls off his boots and sinks into a chair. “Dad and I were talking,” Korra starts, “and we’ve...made up, I think.” She glances at him.

    Tonraq nods and turns to the Sato girl--to Asami. “I’m sorry for walking off,” he offers, “I needed some time to process everything.”

    Asami smiles fondly. “Korra’s the same way. Always led by emotion.” Her green eyes widen. “Not that, I mean, you have a temper or anything--”

    Tonraq laughs. “No, no, you’re right. She is a bit hotheaded,” he says. Korra huffs behind him.

    He clears his throat. “Take care of each other, please. The Avatar can never have too many people looking out for them, right?”

    If the heiress is thrown by his sudden effort, she doesn’t show it. “Of course.”

    Korra leaps up. “Well we’d better go, mom, dad. The city is waiting for us.” She leads Asami to get their coats, and Senna follows Tonraq to the door, used to their daughter’s abruptness.

    “Thank you for everything,” Asami says, looking slightly relieved. At leaving or at Tonraq’s sudden effort to approve of the pair, he isn’t sure.

    Senna and him bid them well and help the two onto their giant sky bison, along with plenty of leftovers. Tonraq watches them go until the bison is a white speck in the sky. He can feel Senna’s raised eyebrow before he sees it.

    “I just need some time,” Tonraq mutters apologetically. To his surprise, Senna hugs him.

    “I know,” she breathes. “But I think Asami will be good for Korra.”

    “I hope so,” Tonraq says. If her composure and apparent talent is anything to go by, he knows their daughter is in good hands. And if Korra trusts herself to do her Avatar duties her own way, then she can be with a woman, if she wants. And maybe it’s time for Tonraq to trust her, too.

#tlok #the legend of korra #korrasami #shannonigans #lok

[sky-kiss]

A/N: Royal Protector Au snippet. Been thinking about the universe and wanted to play around with some different aspects. As usual with the verse, Ursa is Fire Lord. Ozai is her lord protector. 

_______

Heritage

_______

Ursa has no husband.

It is...an unprecedented move. Her court whispers of political crisis. The nightmare of succession should any evils befall their lady. But they are whispers only and eventually they grow silent.

Her children have no father. The court and, by extension, the peasantry whisper that she is blessed by Agni  himself. It is the only rumor she actively seeks to cultivate.

The airbender, the Avatar, isn't fooled. The young man stares  at her. His eyes are huge, warm and honey brown. He smiles when he finally addresses the issue. No guile; no judgement. Only a gentle curiosity. Aang shifts beside her, admiring the countryside stretched out beneath the balcony. He tips his head to the side, voice low as if in conspiracy, playful, “Spirits don't have children, you know.”

She smirks, fingers curling over the balcony railing. At sixteen, he's a tall young man. Like most airbender’s there’s a wiry quality to his frame, lithe even beyond the typical firebender. The quality is even more pronounced with Aang, made worse by the jarring...duality of his nature. He feels smaller than he is. When he is still his shoulders have a tendency to curl forward, chin dipping towards his chest. He shrinks himself, wants to feel more approachable. More average.  “Is that so, dear?”

She wonders if he ever knew his mother.  The barest hint of maternal affection seems to phase him. Aang  nods, a hint of color in his cheeks. He rocks back on his heels, forward again, “It’s true. I even...asked. Just to be sure.” His mouth thins, the left corner ticking down briefly, “You wouldn't have wanted Agni  anyways. Apparently, he's a real jerk.”

The Fire Lord laughs, staring out to sea. She knows what comes next. She dreads it. He does too. Aang scrubs one hand over the back of his neck. His voice is softer, quiet, “Ozai is their father, isn't he? That's why you can't say anything.”

There's no accusation. Aang  drops his gaze. He fidgets beside her.  Ursa sighs, “He is.”

“Roku forbid any descendant of Sozin from ever  inheriting the throne.”

She turns, inspecting the boy’s face. It is...strange. He is the same age as her  second son and somehow entirely different. The air around him is cooler, colored by a non-existent breeze. He is lightness and early spring mornings and...painfully gentle. He does not deserve the weight placed on his shoulders. “They are my children as much as his,” she huffs,  tossing her head, “Though you might not know it by looking at them.”

She sighs again. This is not a  new conversation. Only a new iteration of an old battle. Her father had disapproved of Ozai. Even his service as her guardian placed him too near the throne. She purses her lips, “My children are not like Sozin, Avatar Aang. I would ask you to recognize that.”

“If their heritage got out…”

Ursa smiles, soft, a little fond, “My...liaison with the royal protector is something of an open secret.”

“I guess you’d just have to look at Zuko, huh?” he hums, leaning forward over the railing. “Doubt anyone would care about Roku’s ruling anyway. The world’s made it almost a hundred years without me.” He looks small again, lost. It calls to something maternal within her. She wants to reach out. Aang worries a bit of dirt between his fingers, “Maybe the Avatar isn’t really necessary anymore.”

“It’s easy to say that in times of peace, dear.”

He hesitates, handsome face grave, “Do you think there will be a war, Fire Lord?”

She thinks of the Long Feng’s oily smiles. She thinks of Ozai’s ambitions. So many little things that set them on knife’s edge. She settles for a placation, a non-answer, setting her hand over the young man’s, “I pray it will be otherwise, Aang.”

“Yeah. Me too,” the airbender rocks back on his heels. His expression clouds briefly before clearing. The young man is hope incarnate, always rallying in the face of more somber moods. “Do you think the lord protector would teach me firebending?” she blinks, struck by his naked delight at the idea. “He reminds me of a sabermoose lion but...the princes and princesses are all such talented benders. So he must be a great instructor, right?”

She tries to imagine Ozai weathering this young man. It’s enough to leave her choking back a laugh, “I’ll...bring the matter to his attention.”

“You could just order him, couldn’t you?”

Ursa smirks, “For all our sakes, I try not to make a habit of that. Ozai tends to sulk.”

Aang nods as if this is most natural explanation in the world. He bows to her, the movement fluid and practiced, “Thank you regardless, Fire Lord.” The young man pauses before she can return the gesture, tipping his head to the side. His brow furrows, expression pinching as if he’s straining to hear something. “The lord protector...he’s listening to us right now, isn’t he?”

Ursa flicks a look towards the adjoining rooftop. She half expects to catch sight of him, slinking about in the thicker shadows. For once, she is disappointed. She teases her lower lip between her teeth, “It’s very likely, dear.”

“He’s kind of spooky,” Aang jolts as if he’s only just realizes what he’s said. The young man holds up his hands for peace, babbling, “I hope that doesn’t offend you, Fire Lord.”

She laughs, offering the young man her arm, “No, Aang, not in the least.”

#urzai #royal protector au #random ponderings #good ol insomnia drabbles #aang is my cinnamon roll son #and i love him #and i still love this stupid au #im very sorry

[jaxsteamblog]

Interlude- Rin

(For Blood & Seawater)

Rin had quickly adjusted to the temperature of the North Pole. Obviously the natives knew what they were talking about and she had followed their instructions on how to dress and keep warm. Winters in Ba Sing Se got cold, so it wasn’t a sensation that she hadn’t experienced before, unlike the Fire Nation guards she had brought with her.

Still, pretending to be cold had its uses and she wasn’t expected to be seen out of her quarters very often. That had been the plan in order to make it less suspicious when she invited Katara to meet in her rooms.

It had been unexpected, however, to find out just how close Katara had become to the Water Tribe prince.

Still seated on the low couch, Rin could feel Zuko pacing behind her. She knew he wasn’t the type to sulk publicly for attention, but she knew that if she asked, he would talk.

And Zuko talking was the last thing she wanted to deal with.

Zinna had suggested that Rin take this opportunity to get to know her near cousin. Rin scoffed, again, at the thought of finding Zuko to be anything other than an overly dramatic, brooding Fire Lord. 

“Think of what he has lost. You might not find him so insufferable when you realize what you have in common.” Zinna had told her. In a lot of ways, she and Zinna were the same. They both prided themselves on being pragmatic and focused. But Rin had to admit, her wife had a much higher emotional intelligence than she did. 

Still, it was difficult to parse through these specific emotions. Rin had heard the stories of the Avatar during the war. It had been uncomfortable to meet the group that had saved the world; to find them not only to be human but younger than her. During the war, and for a time after it, she had been angry that the Avatar had not returned in time to save her father. But when she met the Fire Lord, and found him to be so painfully young, she couldn’t hold onto that anger any longer.

Iroh, on the other hand, was far too easy to hate. He had led the siege that killed her father after all. And now he was engaged to her mother.

Rin shook her head and pulled a blanket off the back of the couch, wrapping it around her. It was too much, dealing with her own relationships and now trying to reconcile Zuko’s.

“Zuko.” She snapped and turned on the couch. Zuko stilled and stared back at her, so she continued. “Knock it off.”

“What?” He asked, sounding confused. His brow, though, furrowed as if in anger.

“This thing you’re doing about Katara. It’s embarrassing and beneath your position as Fire Lord.” Rin stated. Zuko brought his chin and shoulders up, defensive now she saw.

“I’m allowed to be in love with her.” He retorted. Rin sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“It’s nothing about that you ninny.” She looked back up at him. “It’s the jealous pouting.”

“I’m not pouting.” He said quickly. He stepped back as Rin rose quickly from her seat.

“Childish denial is also beneath you.” She said sternly. Multiple concurrent thoughts went through her head as possible topics of conversation. But they were all so personal and she wasn’t entirely keen on the idea of building a more intimate relationship with the maladjusted nephew of her father’s murderer.

Rin let out an aggravated sigh and turned away. Not murderer, she thought to herself. But mother’s boyfriend.

Blanching, she pulled the blanket tighter around herself. That thought was almost worse.

“When I met Zinna.” Rin started and tried to sound empathetic. “It was difficult to come out to my family.”

“About being gay?” Zuko inquired, leaning forward.

“What? No. That’s a Fire Nation thing.” Rin waved at him in irritation. “No, it was the fact that she is from your people. And my brothers, and I, aren’t big fans of the Fire Nation.” Shifting on her feet, Rin paused for a moment to decide if she wanted to sit back down. When she did, Zuko came around the couch to sit next to her.

“I met her a year after the war had ended, when we were still living in Ba Sing Se. A woman came into the tea shop with her daughter.” Rin continued but drifted. Koryu was tall, broad, and had the bright green eyes of an Earthbender. The same eyes Rin and her brothers had. Zinna looked slight next to her mother and had brown eyes, like Rin’s mother. She just assumed that this woman was a non-Bender.

Rin had fallen for her easily because Zinna had decided that they were going to get married and so she had moved in with precision and grace. They talked about the war, who they had lost, where they had been. It wasn’t until Iroh proposed to Rin’s mother, a year later, when Zinna told her.

How her father was a Firebender. How he had served in the Fire Nation army for twenty years and retired. How her own brother had only served three years of his five year mandatory service when the war ended.

“It was impossible for me to understand. And Zinna’s family is, complicated. Her mother had been born in a colony and was proud to be part of the Fire Nation. An Earthbender. At the same time other Earthbenders were being put into camps, or killed on the battlefield. It disgusted me.” Rin explained. “But I love Zinna. And once I made that a truth in my life, I just had to figure out how to make everything else work.”

“So you became a Fire Nation citizen.” Zuko added.

“I became a Fire Nation citizen so I could work in the palace.” Rin corrected. “What I’m trying to say, Zuko, is that if you accept your love as a truth in your life, you will be calm enough to handle the rest of it.” 

“What if it isn’t a truth for her?” Zuko asked.

“Then you handle it. But there isn’t an hypothetical scenario you can think of that will be solved by you being a mess.” She replied.  Zuko nodded and looked down at his hands. There was a slight tremor, either from hunger or exhaustion and she couldn’t decide which. He was constantly using his bending to keep warm and it wore on his metabolism. She would have to be more conscious of his eating and sleeping habits.

“What do you think about the prince?” Zuko asked.

“Oh, I would watch out for him.” Rin said and Zuko snapped his head up, looking worried.

“Katara says they’re not together.” He shot back.

“Politics has nothing to do with romance Zuko. And she is the most ideal bride for him as the adopted son of a chief with only the most tenuous of holds on literally half of their territory. If I were him, I would be making it a priority to win her over.” Rin pushed herself up off the couch again and shivered slightly. 

“Are you cold?” Zuko asked.

“I’m fi-” Rin stopped short as Zuko wrapped his arms around her. He radiated warmth, which was nice, but she did not like to be embraced by anyone outside of her family. 

“Thank you Rin.” He murmured and Rin snapped her mouth shut. She frowned but waited a few more seconds before shaking him off.

“You are most welcome Fire Lord.” She muttered and Zuko grinned.

“I think we’re making real progress Cousin.” He said and Rin glowered. 

“I’m only here to make sure you don’t cause an international incident.” She stated and walked out toward the small area designated as a sort of office. A desk had been set up and she was late on sending a letter to Zinna. Rin paused and looked over her shoulder.

“And we’re not cousins.” She spat.

#jax writes #steam series #blood and seawater #fanfiction update

[xigseri]

4, 7, 8, 10, 11, 12, 13, 15, 16, 18, 19, 26, 27, 28, 33, 36, 38, 39, 41, 40, 44, 46, 49, 50, 43 ? welcome to the self ship community!

Oh wow...tysm!! No character is listed so I’ll go for Luxigbraig, I’ll have to put it under a readmore for length. Btw we ignore canon bc it’s rather... boring.

4. Does your F/O have any battle scars? 

Aside from the ones on his face...not really? I know the fandom HCs that he has a ton all over but nah. They base it solely on his face...

7. What is your F/O fashion taste?

Black, with boots and jackets because they just feel right for him. Tight pants or ripped jeans. I imagine that he wears a scarf as Braig to offer the security of a hood since the guard uniform doesn’t have one. Fashion sense of a goth or punk, personality of a jock.

8. How tall is your F/O?

He has no official height, but he’s 5′9′’ I know it. Someone used Sora’s KH3 models to create a chart for the characters and apparently he should be like 6′2′‘ but the models aren’t consistent between games so I don’t trust it one bit.

10. When is your F/O birthday? 

For fandom it’s 2/2 (otherwise known as Xigbar Day) but Luxu was born in late October, making him a Scorpio (because...the Ancrene Wisse theming). (source: dude trust me)

11. Does your F/O know how to cook? If so are they good at it? 

Barely, he knows how to cook enough to get by. I mean if you’ve lived for hundreds/thousands of years you gotta know how to cook for yourself.

12. What is your F/O favorite flavor?  (sweet, sour, bitter, salty and umami (savory)) 

Savory, salty and bitter are preferred, neutral to sweet, dislikes sour. In Braig/Xigbar’s body anyway, in his original body he liked Sweet and Salty and disliked Bitter.

13. If your F/O could be a fan of any video game what do you think it would be? 

Splatoon and Perfect Dark on n64, the latter being a bonding thing for us in particular. He also likes Fallout, Zelda and Borderlands, he tried Pokemon but decided it wasn’t for him after a few games, making me sad.

15. What color are your F/O eyes? 

Xigbar’s is a nice yellow, Braig’s were brown before the Nortening, and I HC that Luxu’s eyes were also yellow.

16. Does your F/O have any tattoos? If not do they like or hate the concept of tattoos? 

No, he’s had several bodies and thought tattoos would make him get too attached, why bother getting them when you might need to take a new vessel tomorrow? He would like to have some though, maybe as Xigbar he can since he won’t be changing any more.

18. Does your F/O have any piercings?

He got his ears and tongue pierced <3

19. Is your F/O a cake or pie person?

Pie pie pie, cake is fine every once in a while. But he loves a hot pie fresh out of the oven.

26. What harry potter house would your F/O be in? (Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin)

He’s both Hufflepuff and Slytherin. Outwardly he’s very Slytherin but deep down he’ll always be a Hufflepuff.

27. If your F/O was in “avatar: the last air bender” what type of bender would they be? (air, water, earth, and fire)

Airbender, since it fits his Space powers most, but he wouldn’t follow the Air Nomads’ traditions. Peace and non-violence and all that? No thanks, he does what he wants.

28. Is your F/O LGBT+?

He’s Non Binary and Bi. He’s taken on both amab and afab bodies and experimented, he’s too old for silly Gender nonsense. He doesn’t really specifically ID as NB or Bi, Genderfluid and Pan work too but he legit does not care for labels. He doesn’t care for other people’s genders and doesn’t know nor care what his own is. Though, he switches pronouns per vessel since he has to pretend to be other people. He has a preference for he/his and they/them pronouns and amab vessels for his own.

33. Do you have any silly nicknames or pet names for your F/O? 

I’m not really one for pet/nicknames bc I embarrass easily, but he calls me Babe among others and I’m autistic and pick up on habits of others so...I’ll call him Babe every now and then and get flustered when he points it out. I used to call him Xiggy early on but it was such an obvious and easy nickname that I dropped it. I suppose calling him Luxu counts? Since he likes me calling him by his old assigned name.

36. Have you ever had a dream with your F/O in it? 

TONS!!!! And we’re dating in the dream world too so I know it’s legit! Several dreams I’ve had where we’re definitely together as a couple and it makes me so happy to have them! I can’t really talk about the last one we had for Reasons, but the one before that, he was bragging about how he was around when the BotW shrines were built and proved it to me by showing me some while we were traveling the world. “Shouldn’t you be leaving them hidden for the Hero to find?” “The Hero? As if, I don’t care about that guy. I’m showing it to you because I want to. :)”

My first dream actually happened right after I started crushing but I can’t talk about it for.....Reasons, hehe.

38. What’s a song that reminds you of your F/O when you hear?

Sympathy For The Devil by The Rolling Stones, The Song I Heard Somewhere/Clockwork Lullaby 8 by Mothy/Akuno-P, and You’re Gonna Go Far, Kid by The Offspring.

39. What is your relationship like with your F/O?

Lots of teasing, mostly from him, sometimes from me. Lots of fun times, we enjoy cuddling and watching things and sharing memes. We’re both mentally ill so we try to support each other, like him constantly encouraging me bc of my low self-esteem and, with him, he struggles with being open about things because he’s had to hide himself for far too long, so I try to help him ease up, but I never tried to force myself into his business and he appreciates that. We both struggle with identity issues so that’s a common point for us too.

40. How long have you been with your F/O? (or at least been interested in them?)

I developed a crush in I believe October of 2015, started dating in Febuary of 2016 and we’ve been married since April of this otherwise hell year.

41. Where is your F/O from? (as in born)

Daybreak Town, which doesn’t exist anymore :( it was remade into Scala Ad Caelum but that’s gone too. The last place he’s “from” was Radiant Garden/Hollow Bastion.

44. What is your F/O’s most valuable possession?

The black box the MoM entrusted to him that he may or may not have lost, but it’s all good cause he found it and it’s safe.

46. does your F/O prefer to work alone or with a team?

He tells himself and others that he prefers to work alone. He’s used to it. But if he really likes someone’s company then he’ll yearn for the companionship even if it’s brief.

49. What animal reminds you of your F/O?

Goats and Scorpions (obvs) but I also associate him with foxes and bats. The fandom heavily associates him with rats and I really don’t vibe with that.

50. What color reminds you of your F/O? 

Black (outfit + hair + keyblade), Silver (hair), Yellow (eye), and Purple (arrowguns, bow).

43. What does your F/O’s Saturdays usually look like? 

Doing missions. The Organization gives us a day off like once a year. (No, really.) When he’s finally out of there, he likes to do stuff with me, be it relax at home or travel. Just as long as it isn’t Work.

#Anonymous #serixun.txt