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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years

Note

Chris lying on top of someone getting cuddles plz Ash I beg of you

Follows on Time Apart, It Doesn’t Work As Well As You’d Hoped, and Learn to Fly

Their heartbeat is slow and steady underneath his ear, and his eyes close, letting himself dwell in the sound. His fingers twist in their shirt, relax, twist and relax, rubbing his thumbs over the seams of their binder underneath.

They hum, softly, a tuneless sound very nearly like his own, and that’s like drifting in a warm sea, floating on saltwater and feeling the sun on his skin. Their fingers gently move through his hair, blunt bitten nails not quite scratching his scalp, just rubbing with their fingertips.

The coffeeshop is quiet around them, emptied-out except for the two baristas who speak in low voices under the whirring of the espresso machine, handing drinks out the drive-thru window, bags of cookies and cannoli, a scone or three. They don’t ask if Chris and Laken need anything more.

They know that the need, as it stands now, isn’t for the coffee that’s gone cold in both their cups. It's for the space to have their quiet together, after time apart.

The rain pours, outside, a soft and subtle rush, like blood pulsing through the veins of the world. Blood goes into and out of the human heart, water goes up to the atmosphere and then back to earth. It’s the same.

The earth breathes.

So does Laken.

Chris, like a bird with wings open to the wind to rise, listens to it.

“I’m not afraid of you,” Laken murmurs, without pausing in the soft rhythm of their fingers. “Or of what happened to you, or of what it means for us. My future is with you, that hasn’t changed. I’ve never been afraid of you, Chris. Afraid for you a couple of times, sure, but never of you.”

“I’ll freeze up,” Chris says back, voice low. The music that plays over the speakers switches in a wild, odd swing between the sort of instrumental jazz Chris is used to and the occasional bouncy 80’s pop song. He wonders, in a detached way, which of the baristas has their iPod plugged in to the speakers. “Every, um. Every time. I can’t-... I can’t, can’t stop it right away. Ever.”

“I know,” Laken says. They’re on their back on the back, shoulders propped against the arm of the couch, head tipped back a little towards the ceiling. Chris lays on top of them, his own feet up on the couch’s arm at the other side, the soles of his worn-out slip-on shoes pointing up. His fingers run over the thick, smooth binder fabric under their t-shirt, back and forth, back and forth. His fingers skim along the edge where the black of the binder meets the skin over their lower ribs.

He mirrors the movement of their hand through his hair without realizing it.

“You, you, you shouldn’t-... someone who, um, who can’t... I'm, I'm fucked up, Laken."

“No one gets out of this life without some dings, baby,” Laken says, and their hand slips down, cups his jaw and gently encourages him to look up as they look down to meet his eyes. Theirs, always, are pools so deep and dark he can’t tell iris from pupil. Some of the long part of their hair falls forward, framing their face. “Nobody. Yours are a little rougher than some others, but I’ve got mine, too, you know? I love you, dings and all. We're fucked up but we're fucked up together."

“You don’t freeze.”

“No. I throw punches. And trust me, it’s not always the right response. Even if it feels good in the moment.”

“I, I, I wish I could fight.”

“You did.” Laken sighs, a low soft exhale, and he listens to the sound it within them as well as without. “You pushed her away. You said so yourself. You pushed her away and said no.”

“Not, not right away.”

“God, Chris. You’re even braver for fighting when your body is screaming at you not to. It’s not thoughtless, for you, like it is for me sometimes. You have to push past years of hurt in a couple of seconds. That’s big.”

“It, it, it feels… small.”

“Well, it’s not.” The firm matter-of-factness of their tone makes him smile, secretly, turning his head briefly so the expression is made against their sternum, the warmth of their skin that settles under his own.

“I’m going to to to to, um, to make, it, it harder on you,” He says, looking back up at them. He doesn’t like to look right into people’s eyes, never has, but it’s not so bad with them. Sometimes. And he knows they’ll let him look away when it’s too much. “You know? You, you should… you should maybe find someone else.”

“I should be there for the man I love,” Laken says, voice getting a little softer. There’s a clatter of metal steam-cups over by the counter, the baristas rinsing everything out during this slow time, when the nearly-overwhelming rain means no one is getting out of their car right now.

The two old men - Mr. Malley and Mr. Cilly - have gone back to their homes. It’s nearly lunchtime, and Chris’s stomach feels a little hollowed. He’ll get a scone in a little while, maybe. If he remembers.

“But... everyone who loves me dies, gets hurt, gets gets gets lost,” Chris whispers, feeling a sharp twist inside him. A grief and pain that was wiped away, pushed down by drugs but never fully destroyed. It rises in a wave to break against him, as if they have only just died, the two of them. His mother’s eyes fading as she told him it would be okay, in the end. His father had already been gone.

“That’s a goddamn lie,” Laken says, and there’s an insistence even in their half-whisper. “Jake’s still here. Nat’s still here. Antoni’s still here, Kauri’s still here. I’m still here. Hell, those weird old dudes seem to care about you and they’re still here, aren’t they?”

“But, but, but when I, when I tell everyone-”

“I’ll be right fucking there. Wherever you want me.”

“Everyone will know what I am.” They’re silent, but he can feel their correction behind their lips, barely held back, and he smiles, just a little. “Okay, okay. What I, um, what, what I had to do.”

“If that’s what you want to do, I support you. And I’m not turning away just because you’re doing something amazing, even if it’s dangerous.” They run a finger along his jaw, and their smile is bright, their teeth just slightly crooked in a way Chris loves. “I told you. My future is with you, and that’s a choice I made like a month after you said that you loved me the first time. I knew it was me and you, Chris. Whatever stands in our way, we’ll get through it.”

Chris blinks at them, thinking, and then his own smile widens. It’s still a little trembling, a little hesitant… but stronger. “Blow, um. Blow it apart and go through the wreckage.”

“What?” Laken blinks back at him.

He shakes his head, smiling and laying his ear back down over their heart, looking out the window at the driving rain. It’s made puddles in the parking lot, and he sees a bright white and red polka-dot umbrella as someone makes a mad dash for their car from the bookstore a few doors down.

“My mom,” He says, softly. “My, um. Mr. Malley said… my mom would, um, would would do that. If she couldn’t get over something, or around it, she’d… she’d she’d she’d go through it. Knock it it it it it down or, or, or, um, blow it up."

“Then let’s make like your mom,” Laken says, softly. “And blow WRU to bits and walk right through whatever’s left of their bullshit and build our life there. Take their wreckage and make a statue out of it. Or a hammer. Which we will then bash them with."

He laughs, against them, and they laugh, too.

He's missed the sound of their laughter so much.

When their hand moves down, he grabs onto it. Their fingers are warm, as always. Warm and dry, the perfect counterpoint to the weather. They press a kiss to his hair and he lets his eyes close, enjoying the feeling.

“Do, um. Do do do do you want to meet her?”

“Who?”

“My mom. And, um, I guess, I guess my dad, too. I I I I know where they are, now. Where they’re… they’re buried.”

Laken inhales sharply. “Since when?”

“Akio, um, told me. Do, do you want to… meet them?”

“Sure.” Laken hesitates, then adds in a kind of nervous feigned humor, “What if your mom doesn’t like me?”

Chris thinks of the woman in his mind, still fuzzy around the edges and with a voice he can only remember when he isn’t thinking too much about it. Dark hair and a bright laugh, holding him tightly when he needed it and letting him run when he needed that instead. The woman who went to every single practice and meet, who had been so excited for him to qualify for the national elite team alongside Akio. He can almost see her clearly, if he keeps his eyes closed and forces his way around the headache that still tries to push her back into the light.

“I think,” He murmurs, “She, she, she, she would have liked you. A lot. And and and and probably been mad it took me so, um, so so so long to bring you by."

@burtlederp @finder-of-rings @endless-whump @astrobly @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @eatyourdamnpears

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criminalshminds · 3 years

Text

A Broken Whisper

A very, very, very late prompt from @eprcntiss, but good things happens to those who wait, right???

Prompt: “What are you doing here? It’s late.” Pairing: Hotchniss (Emily Prentiss x Aaron Hotchner) Rating: General Audiences Words: 1968 TW: Canon faked death, slight intrusive thoughts

Summary: He didn’t know why he felt the need to check up on her, but he’s glad he did. Though he never thought she’d be here. (Post Doyle)

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

He couldn’t say why he had the urge to check on Emily, he just did. Something has been up with her since she came back after Doyle. Hotch has tried to be a sounding board for her, but her walls are always up that she manages to deflect any of his concern and places it back on him. But he saw her face at the take down that night. He saw the lone tear that fell down her cheek, one that she quickly wiped away before anyone could see it. Maybe that one tear led him to her apartment. He parks in a spot that looks directly up into her apartment. A spot that he has been in plenty of times before, back when things were simpler. Back when they would steal little kisses. Where she would wave at him from the window in her living room as he left to go back home to shower and change before work. Where he told her that he loves her. Back before she started to pull away. Back when things made sense.

Since her return, they haven’t spoken of the past. Actually, they haven’t really talked at all. The only words they utter to each other are work related. Well, that’s not completely true. She did utter a goodbye today. Maybe that’s why he felt the need to see her. Looking up at the window that used to hold her smiling silhouette now just holds a darkness that sends a shiver down his spine. Like he’s not supposed to be here. Like he is intruding in a life that he doesn’t belong in anymore. Taking a chancery glance around the parking lot, the first thing he notices is that her car isn’t in its designated parking spot. Second thing he notices, is that she hasn’t been home since leaving work five hours ago, if the snow piled up on the concrete has anything to say about it. Knowing that she could be literally anywhere, he huffs out a sigh before digging around his pockets for his cell phone.

“Bossman, I know I am the goddess of all wisdom, but even goddesses need their beauty sleep.” A grumble comes through the phone, definitely not the cheerful voice of Penelope Garcia that Hotch has come to know.

“Garcia, can you do me a favor?” He speaks quickly into the phone, no room or time for nonsense.

“Does it involve me coming back into the BAU?” Hotch hears some rustling noises, and only now does he realize that he is calling at almost midnight.

“No.”

“Hit me with your best shot.”

“Don’t raise any alarms unless I say so.” Hotch runs his hand over his mouth before asking his request. “Can you get me a location on Prentiss?”

She immediately shoots out of bed and races to her laptop. She skids to a stop, barely landing on her couch before frantically typing and shooting out questions. “What? Why would I – why is she? She’s not – “ Not again, not when we just got her back.

“Garcia!” He interrupts her panic raise of questions hoping to keep her head on straight.

“Right, sorry. Um, give me a minute. You sure it’s nothing?” She waits for a second, getting no response she continues to type on her laptop before it pings her location. “I got it! I sent it to you. Please bring our girl back home.”

“I will Garcia, and remember – “

“I know, I know, not a peep.” As soon as the last word left her mouth, Hotch moved the phone from his ear and immediately went to his messages. Letting out a sigh, he puts the car in reverse and makes his way down the empty streets.

His shoulders don’t sag in relief until he sees her car parked in the desolate lot. Pulling into the space next to her, he glances at silver sedan hoping he’ll be lucky to see her behind the wheel. Mentally groaning when the car is as barren as the parking lot he is in, he turns off his car and shuffles out into the chilly night. It didn’t take a genius to know that she has been here for a while, if the buildup of snow on her car was any indication. The steady stream of snow flurries coming down has covered any footprints that could potentially lead him to her. Although, none of that was necessary. For the seasoned profiler he is, he knew exactly where she went once the coordinates led him here.

Quantico National Cemetery

He stares at the sign, willing his feet to move. A staring contest that even the famous Aaron Hotchner glare can’t win. It’s not until a particularly strong gust of wind whips around him for his feet to catch up with his brain. A shiver races through his body. Either from the cold or from that sinister feeling of being alone in a graveyard at night. He silently moves through the sea of headstones, a walk that is second nature to him. One that he frequented quite often for months. He makes his way up to the tree that helped shelter the gravestone from the elements and finally sees the back of her head. He knows that she hears him coming, the crunching of the snow beneath his feet hard to miss, even past the sound of the wind. Stopping a few feet behind her, he waits a minute before speaking.

“What are you doing here? It’s late.” He’s expecting her to turn towards him, but she sits as still as a statue staring at the engraved stone. She doesn’t respond right away, making him move closer to her. He opens his mouth to ask again when he hears her soft voice reply.

“I come here to think.”

Curiosity got the better of him. “About?”

“Life.” Her soft declaration carries through the wind and wraps around him. She reaches forward in a practiced motion and brushes the fresh snow away to keep the text visible.

Emily Prentiss

October 12th 1970 – March 7th 2011

Fidelity Bravery Integrity

“It’s so precious. You never realize how special it is until it gets taken away.” He continues to stand behind her, keeping his mouth shut. This is the most open she’s been since her return and he’s not about to ruin it. “I didn’t think it’d be this strange. Basically coming back from the dead. You know I came here the first time purely out of curiosity. Taking my picture off a wall is one thing, but removing a whole grave?” She lets out a humorless chuckle.

“With a click of her finger, Garcia could get it removed.” He speaks before he could stop himself. He holds his breath hoping that he didn’t just cause her walls to build back up.

“No.” Her head tilts back towards the sky. “I need the perspective.”

Furrowing his brow, he carefully walks next to her before slowly lowering to the ground. He starts to reach for her before quickly retreating, remembering that she’s no longer his to touch. He starts to question what her fake grave can help her with before remembering something she said after a case years ago. I need to know that I can be human.

“Being reminded of your own mortality isn’t the right perspective to have.” He spoke softly even though he wanted to scream.

“Don’t you get it? It’s a reminder of how fragile life is. Logically speaking, I shouldn’t be here.” She scrunches up her eyes, a tear streaks down her face as she pounds her fist into the ground.

His hand shoots out and covers her fist that is still resting on the snow-soaked grass. His touch finally breaks her out of her trance with her eyes finally meeting his.

“But you are here. Living, breathing. ��Dammit Emily! Don’t you understand? You can’t move on until you finally accept that you are meant to be here. With me! With us.” He is grasping at her hand like she will disappear any second while his shoulders are shaking with the intensity of his breath. She keeps his stare for a second, before turning away back to the headstone.

“Am I?” She whispers. He lightly grasps at her chin, moving her head to face him again.

“Forever and always.” That little phrase breaks her. In a second, she leaps from her spot into his lap, burrowing her head into the crook of his neck. The reaction almost pushes him backwards into the snow, but he quickly settles himself. His hand moves and starts stroking the back of her head in a practiced movement before he gently starts rocking them consoling her quietly in her ear trying to overpower her chant of “I’m sorry.” They stay wrapped around each other until he spares a glance at his watch, telling him that it is half past one in the morning.

“Come on. Let’s get you home.” He whispers into her ear, helping her up to her feet. He feels her shiver against him as a large gust of wind almost knocks the both of them from their feet. Only now does he notice that she’s been in just a sweater this whole time.

“Jesus Em, you couldn’t have brought a jacket?” Shedding his coat, he drapes it over her shoulders before wrapping his arm around her waist guiding her to his car.

“Left it in the car. Didn’t realize how long it’s been.” She chatters out to him, leaning closer towards him for warmth. He lets out a frustrated sigh before picking up the pace, trying to get her to shelter.

He helps her into the passenger seat of his car, passing off her concerns about her car. “We’ll take care of it in the morning.”

He quickly makes his way into the driver’s seat to turn the car on. They sit in the warming car for a couple minutes in complete silence. Neither quite knowing what to say to the other. After another minute, Hotch figures it’s best to start to drive to her apartment. It’s not until they are halfway there that she finally speaks up.

“Aaron?” She says no more than a whisper.

“Hm?” He hums out, sparing her a quick glance before looking back to the empty road.

“I – I, thank you.”

His lips start to curve up into a smile and he removes one hand from the steering wheel to grasp at hers, stopping her from the continued picking of her nails. He squeezes her hand gently in response before leaving their fingers intertwined. Neither of them speak until he parks back at her apartment complex.

She starts to let go of his hand to make her exit before his voice stops her.

“Em?” With her hand still on the inside latch, she turns to face him. “I know it’s not my place anymore, but please don’t be afraid to come to me. If you’re having a bad day, let me know. You mean so much to me. I meant it when I said forever and always.”

She slowly nods her head, before leaning forward to give him an awkward hug across the center console. Pulling away, she shyly gives him a peck on the cheek before whispering. “Forever and always.”

She opens the door, and goes to leave his jacket on the seat, but he holds up a hand to stop her. “Give it to me tomorrow.”

Smiling softly, she nods before closing the door. He patiently waits until he sees the light go on in her apartment. He waits until he sees her figure standing in the window, giving him a small wave. Like before. He slowly pulls out of the parking space, smiling to himself. Yeah, things are starting to make sense again.

#prompts #prompt writing #allie writes #hotchniss fanfic #hotchniss #we love when inspiration strikes you #also love doing prompts way out of order #i apologize to the other prompts that came before this that i sidelined to write this one #very late tho #this is from my 350 celebration #which was at least 2 months ago??#sorry besties #hope you enjoy

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angelkurenai · 4 years

Text

Imagine dating Jensen and never having told him you knew who he was and what his job was, or that you had a crush on him. So when he finds out he gets mad and a fight ensues.

“Honey, can you please check to see if there are any empty boxes left on the-”

“None.” Jensen cut you off with a small smirk, leaning against the door frame and chuckling when he saw you startle and let out a small yelp when you realized he was there.

“Jens!” you exclaimed, hand over your heart “You scared me, how long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough.” he grinned, getting closer to you “Long enough to admire the view and maybe- certainly fall in love with you just a little bit more, unbelievably possible you see, and that adorable face you make when going through your...” he looked over your shoulder at the things in your hands “Childhood memories I see! Wow that's some real talent there, is that-” he tilted his head to the side, looking at your childhood drawing “Is that a... kitty or a shark?”

“Shut up.” you said with a small pout, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks from the embarrassment, but at the same time unable to hold a small laugh when Jensen ticked your sides before wrapping his arms around your middle and sitting down next to you on the bed “And to answer your question... I think it's supposed to be both. My favorite animals from land and sea, you see, because of how adorable and dangerous they can both be.”

“Dangerous and adorable, wow, that's a way to think about those two. Ok.” he pursed his lips for a second, nodding his head “Remind me to have a serious talk with you about your childhood memories and concepts of cute when we decide to have kids, yeah? I'm scared I will walk into a nursery painted a deep shade of black because you think it's a lovely color.”

“Alright first-” you raised a finger to stop him before he could say anything else “Black is a lovely color and if you have anything against it then we really need to have a serious discussion about that otherwise I am afraid I can't move in with you at all. Not to mention that I think that puts our relationship in danger on its own. So you either prepare yourself for the endless amount of black outfits I have or otherwise-”

“No! No, totally fine with black. Lovely color, totally.” he shook his head immediately and you chuckled, leaning on him more.

“And as for the second-” your voice took on a softer tone as you looked up to lock eyes with his and offer him a soft smile, almost reassuring when you saw the panic in his eyes no wonder because he had previous slipped and didn't expect you to catch it “I always loved the idea of a yellow or light green one, or maybe both. Doesn't matter if it's a boy or a girl, or both.” you chuckled and a beautiful smile started spreading on his lips “Though don't look so cheerful, honey, because if it is twins I am going to be making your life a living hell until labor, mind my words!”

“I'll gladly take it all, sweetheart. All of it.” he leaned down to kiss your lips with a smile on “But I'm definitely on bedtime-story duty because I still don't trust you with it.”

You scoffed, giving him a playful shove “Some kind of boyfriend you are. If you must know sharks are a very important part of the ecosystem and they are endangered species. We must love and protect them and-”

“Alright, National geographic-” he said fondly “You can continue later with the info. In case you didn't notice, we've got a moving to make and you have a lot of things that need to go into boxes yet. Keep it up like this and you won't be moving into my house until next month.”

“And what a tragedy that would be.” you chuckled “I do have a lot of things to go through, though, some of which need throwing away, so it will take time. You said anything about the boxes?”

“Ah yes the boxes, there are none left in the house whatsoever, I ended up using a lot for the kitchen. Seems like we're gonna have to find some new ones. But that doesn't stop us from going through the things you need and the ones you plan on throwing away together yeah? Who knows what kind of interesting stuff I might find out.” he smirked and you scoffed a laugh.

“Underwear drawer is right up there honey, that's probably the only thing that can get as interesting as you expect. There's nothing much here, some stuff from my childhood, teenage years and probably some from 4 to 5 years ago.”

“Bummer.” he huffed, moving towards some other smaller shoe boxes that he expected to hold childhood stuff like the rest “Well, you look at the creepy childhood art then, while I go through this for once. If they're ok, we can move it as it already-”

“No wait, Jens that's not for-” you started, jumping on your feet to stop him, but it was already too late because the box was already open right in front of him in a matter of seconds.

“-is.” he added half a second after you, and as the frown on his face deepened he added “Wh-what- What is this?”

“Just- old stuff. Nothing worth noting.” you didn't keep your eyes on the posters, DVDs and rest of Supernatural merch that was in the box.

“Is this yours? (Y/n) is this yours?”

“I uh-” you cleared your throat, feeling your hands shake when you noticed that his jaw had clenched as well “Uh well... yes, it's in my house. Of course, b-but- It's old stuff I even had forgotten I had there. R-really not something you should concern yourself with. Let's- let's not waste time on them, yeah?” you asked tentatively, hating how your voice shook a bit but hoping he still wouldn't notice, as you tried to close the box as subtly as possible “It's just silly little things, and we have to go through so much already that-”

“And when did you get these?” he asked, cutting you off immediately; voice very deep and almost accusing and you really couldn't hold it against him when it was about something like this.

You had no secrets from him, never lied or tried to deceive him. It was a honest relationship from your side concerning both your feelings and actions, and same went for him too. From the moment you started going out officially, you didn't want anything between the two of you. It was how you had managed to make it last for so long, how to make it matter. But that didn't mean that there were no secrets between you at all, ones built up before it all became real between you two, before a relationship bloomed.

You had never told him you knew him when you met. Opting to pretend to not know about the show or who he was and what he did as a profession was an impulsive decision that at the time made things so much more simple but in the end you grew to regret. It had been easier to be around each other, to just be yourself – fangirl side, at least concerning Supernatural, set aside at least – and treat him like another human being defined by his personality and not job. And he had liked it, he admitted it months later when he told you about his job, more than he ever thought he would have. It was important to him to be treated like any other person, for you to see him as him and so you didn't have the heart to ruin it.

It was a white lie at first, simple as that, and you had meant to tell him the truth when one month turn into six turned into a year and you were together. But as the relationship got more serious and as you were more certain he needed to know, the more scared you were for him to know as well and each time you tried to tell him, you ended up backing away on it.

And now it wasn't simply just another white lie, it was a secret you had let stay between you and grow to proportions you couldn't control anymore. You feared it would make or break you if he ever found out, so much so that you wished he never had to. Sadly it seemed like you wouldn't be getting it.

“I think I might even get rid of it all, or give it away, it would be a little silly to hold onto these when-” you started speaking, hoping you could do your best at keeping your voice steady and avoiding having to answer. While you had showed your love for the show, you had never said out loud just when that love started.

“(Y/n)” his voice was rough as he cut you off, maybe more than you'd like but thankfully less than you had originally feared “When did you get these?”

“Well, I-” you fidgeted with your fingers, trying to master all your courage to look up to meet his eyes, not even having realized when you looked down “It's not really a big kind of de-”

“Answer me!” he was downright furious and once more you could never blame him for it because you knew you'd feel the exact same if you were in his place.

His voice raised, and while you didn't know what sounded more angry and scary this or him keeping a low voice, you couldn't help but flinching simply as a reflex. When you opened your eyes again you saw the regret instantly flash through his eyes and despite how mad he was for you to hide the truth, you could see that he didn't want to ever make you feel anything but comfortable around him. You would have told him that it was alright, that you would never be scared of him for real when you saw that he was ready to start apologizing profoundly, but instead you opted for something else entirely.

“A good few years.” you tried to look as determined as possible, but still holding a small smile; whether it was out of nervousness or the need to show him you were alright you didn't know yet “As in, a good few years even before I met you in person. I knew about the show a-and I knew about you, and that you were an actor before we met.”

“So when we met, you...” the frown on his face was deep as he looked down, his anger slowly but surely being replaced by sadness and disappointment and you actually wished for a second that he could stay mad at you instead of this; instead of the way his voice lowered “You lied to me? And you kept lying about it?”

“Jens-” you started, trying to swallow over the lump in your throat “I had no choice. I was a fan of the show for a good couple years, yes, and I don't think you'll be surprised at this point to know I might have also had a crush on you and Dean back then as well.” your breath came out shaky as you looked away “But then I met you... you were there, real, and it felt like I couldn't believe it. You took that as me not recognizing you and you- you relaxed right away and I-”

“You lied to me.” he emphasized, probably not even having heard your last sentence as he spoke over you, and again with very little anger and more pain “You lied, (Y/n), and then- and then you never told me the truth. We've been together for over a year now, we've known each other for over two years- Over two years you had every chance to tell me the truth, especially when we promised each other there would be no secrets between us and you- you kept the biggest and most important one from me! I can't believe this.” he shook his head, pacing in the room “You let me believe that lie for years, let out relationship be built on that. How could you? Why would you ever do something like this to me? Did you take pleasure in it at first or what? Was it some sort of game?”

“I-” you wrapped your arms around your middle and pressed your lips together, avoiding to let your eyes linger on him even for a couple extra seconds because of how much it hurt to see this kind of expression on his face; and you knew there were no excuses to undo it so you only said what you felt and had been feeling for so long.

“I only ever wanted you to be happy. I wanted you... us to feel like equals. You looked so relieved to see that I was so taken with you and not your job or your character that I didn't have the heart to ruin it to you. And I- I was selfish, yes, because I had never seen a man look at me like that, treat me so good, love me so much that I didn't want it to end. To feel real love for the first time in my life, I had to take that risk. And I'm sorry if I let you down when all I wanted was to give you my heart and soul. I guess I was right in my first thoughts during our first dates... I could never be good enough for you and here is the proof. I'm-” you looked down, fighting the tears “I'm sorry for everything, I'll just get all the boxes we've moved from your house the soonest possible. It's a good thing I haven't packed everyth-”

“What?” you could hear the gasp coming from his lips but didn't pay much attention to it mostly to not get your hopes up.

“Must've been a sign that there were no boxes huh? Well, I better start unpacking cause I've got-”

You started making your way to the door, you believed that there was no doubt that Jensen wouldn't even want to see you at the moment, but before you could even take another step out, you felt a hand on your arm pulling you back followed by a gruff “No”

“Jens” you whispered “I understand that this hurt you. There's not reason-”

“No reason for what?” his voice was more rough than before and you didn't dare look up at him yet “For you to move in with me? For us to be together? Is that what you want?”

“I don't want it. Of course not!” you shut your eyes tightly, just as his hand squeezed your arm “Gosh, I only want you but I- I ruined it all, Jens. And you can't forgive me, if I were you I wouldn't either. That kind of lie is- unforgivable, so you'd have every right to want to-”

“Don't-” he sounded like he almost choked on his tears and you couldn't help your eyes this time, they were drawn to him and it was then that you felt the gasp leave from your own lips; looking into his red-rimmed eyes and the heartbreak on his face was worse than when he realized the lie, something which was probably the least of his concerns at the moment and once you realized it you felt a hopeful skip in the beat in your heart “Don't you even dare say that. I-” he pursed his lips and groaned, closing his eyes for a second.

You reached out tentatively and cupped his cheek, unable to hold your smile when he melted in your touch and nuzzled his face in your palm; after only a second he leaned in and rested his forehead against yours “I'm angry. Gosh, I am so angry at both of us but it's only a mere fragment... it's nothing compared to the fear I feel of losing you. I should stay mad, hell, I am going to make you pay for that with lots of food and makeup sex but-” he managed a chuckle, an actual chuckle and you grinned “But I would be a hypocrite to stay mad at only you and, even worse, the world's biggest idiot if I were to let you go because of this. Lies be damned, the world be damned... I am not going to lose you. I never want to lose you. That scares the hell out of me, so... don't.”

“So that means... we're ok? Together I mean?” you asked slowly and hesitantly.

He took a deep breath in and looked you fully in the eyes “I would never dream of letting you go. Never over something like this.”

“And about... moving together?”

He nodded his head skeptically for a moment “Well that... that will depend.”

“On what?” you let a small smile form on your lips only because of the smirk he had on that you knew real well and yet made you wonder.

“Just how much smut have you read about me and my character and even more... how much have you written out of it?”

“Jensen!”

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tobiosmilktea · 3 years

Text

amor vincit omnia — akaashi keiji

↪︎ O2. I CHOOSE YOU

masterlist | prev. | next

a/n: i absolutely hated rewriting this chapter after it glitched out the first time 😔

since the beginning of your first year of university, you and the rest of your lovely friends had been eating in the library, specifically the large round table secluded and at the very corner for every meal without fail, and nobody really cared to stop you guys for two reasons. For one, no one really goes into that corner of the library that only collected dust, and two, you guys were there so often that you all befriended all the librarians to the point they stopped coming by to tell you guys to leave and eat in the canteen instead.

you were placed between daichi and kiyoko, counting the seconds by as they worked diligently in silence, munching on their lunch in the process. daichi tapped on the keys on his laptop rather quickly, the impact of each click being unnecessarily loud while kiyoko was cross-referencing documents and highlighting lines of never ending texts in a nice muted green color. tsukishima, on the other hand, was too preoccupied reading his book. eyes completely glued to the novel resting in his hands as he readjusted his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose. sugawara was out and about somewhere in the sea of towering bookshelves to find a book to read, mentioning something along the lines of—and you quote, ‘something to quench his thirst for entertainment.’

it was honestly just his fancy way of saying that he was bored out of his goddamn mind. perhaps you were the same, eyes wandering your surroundings for something, just something to capture your attention for a few moments. it wasn’t at all difficult, actually, considering how pretty your university was.

higashi university had always been your dream college. not just by its blatant aestheticism, but the academia as well. with tanaka and nishinoya being your main friend group during your high school days, it feels rather refreshing being surrounded by other incredibly smart individuals than constant brain rot.

(no offense to tanaka and nishinoya, you loved them to pieces)

and as your mind began to wander, so did your gaze. from admiring the library’s interior to looking out the window, your lips slightly curved down into a frown.

it was only noon and the clouds were already darkening the sun’s piercing rays that usually shone through the large domed windows of the library. it was going to rain soon and for a couple hours as well.

it’s quite peculiar to think about now after you received that damned chain letter. earlier this morning, while shoving on your wool sweater and trousers, that even the weather app on your phone didn’t show any signs of inclement weather until an hour after you texted your group chat in an awkward panic.

you didn’t really pine yourself to be so superstitious. if anything, you were the complete opposite, and yet, here you were worrying over the sound of rumbling thunder in the distance.

tsukishima lifted his gaze from the words printed on his novel as he pushed his glasses higher up on the bridge of his nose. he flickered a look at you, a smirk appearing on his visage the moment he noticed the way you stared at a single drop of rain on the window, flowing down rather slowly.

that stupid letter of yours was still in your hand as well. he watched you fiddle with the corners, careful not to mess with the mahogany red wax stamp that sealed the envelope.

“have you thought about which poor, unfortunate soul you’re going to give it to?” he asked, smirk still annoyingly evident. this was the third time he asked you this question in a span of three hours.

you flicked your eyes towards him coolly before it fell onto the letter in your hands. "ask that question again and i’ll be sure to send it your way, tsukishima.”

“i’d like to see you try, honestly.” he muses, “your best bet is probably slipping it into one of your professor’s inboxes. maybe professor oshiro, by chance?”

“please,” you snort, “she only gave me one failing grade that i eventually made up in the end.”

“just give it to a random stranger,” daichi cuts in, eyes still glued to his laptop as he typed his fingers away. dark circles dusting his eyes like a dark shadow. law school was certainly doing its works on the likes of poor, poor sawamura daichi.

he shrugs, evidentially fatigued when he meets your eye.

“that way your grades won’t have to potentially deal with the consequences if your professor finds out.”

you nod, humming in response. that would be terrible.

sugawara then emerges from the maze of bookshelves, holding up a book towards you with a smile on his face. “found one,” he beams, tossing it atop the messy table.

you reach for the book as sugawara pulls out his chair whilst he mutters something to his daichi about his whereabouts.

“wuthering heights?” you say the title aloud and capture kiyoko’s attention along with it.

“yeah. have you guys read it?” the silver-haired boy asks. he takes your opinions quite seriously knowing how much of an avid reader you and kiyoko were. whenever he needed book recommendations or opinions, he would always go to you two.

you nod, “i quite liked it.”

“some parts tend to be slow, though.” adds in kiyoko, taking the novel from your hands and flipping through the pages briefly before slipping back over towards sugawara. “it should keep you occupied for a few days.”

you chuckle slightly, giving her a look. “you forget how slow suga is at reading. the few days it takes us to finish a book is a good month for him.”

offense coated sugawara’s expression as he lets out a scoff in retaliation. “don’t you have a chain letter to give to someone?”

“she’s stalling,” tsukishima teases.

“am not!”

“then want to go give it to a random stranger then?”

your brows draw together, “right now?”

tsukishima nods as he stuffs his belongings back into his bag. “i’ll come with you for shits and giggles.”

a sigh escapes you, rolling your eyes as you take a look at the letter one last time and wanting to laugh at yourself for doing all this. a full chain letter from front to back, with the first quarter of it is you viciously apologizing that you had to do this in neat cursive handwriting, all written in fifteen minutes.

you gave in.

“fine,” you huff as you grab your own bag as well.

“good luck,” kiyoko muses up at you as you squeeze past her.

tsukishima waits for you until you’re by his side, strides shorter than usual just to match your pace as you two navigate through the labyrinthine arrays of bookshelves. the letter was in your hand, all small and discrete for a quick and easy delivery to an unsuspecting victim. your palm perspired slightly as you kept your eyes open, scanning for an easy person as you were aware of the possible repercussions.

you could easily get in trouble for doing something this childish, but you were in too deep already.

“hurry up and find someone, we’re almost at the entrance already.” tsukishima hisses in a harsh whisper.

“i’m working on it!” you hiss back.

“working on what?” a familiar voice asks then, capturing both you and tsukishima’s attention, whipping your heads towards the owner.

kuroo combed his freehand through his hair while he had two textbooks tucked under his other arm. he gave you a smile.

you never really got close with kuroo despite meeting him at nationals a few years back. despite only talking a few times due to him being good friends with tsukishima, you knew he was nice, incredibly smart in the sciences, and yet oddly awkward for someone as good looking as he.

not him, you thought to yourself, too nice.

“a little project,” the blond immediately answers just like that. “our majors tend to overlap sometimes, so we decided to partner up.”

“nice, i’m here with my friends to study as well.” kuroo states, causing your eyes to scan behind them for any evidence of their rambunctious selves.

like kuroo, you weren’t close with any of them either. if anything, they were just mere acquaintances on the precipice of becoming strangers. regardless, they all seemed quite nice too from your lack of interaction with them.

tsukishima says something in response then, igniting a short little catch-up conversation with an old high school friend as you lay distracted. your eyes flicked down to a study table in front of you, one of the chairs just a foot shy from you had a satchel hanging off of its side. the brown leather flap was wide open with its owner nowhere in sight as you gave your surroundings a once over.

carefully, you made your way over the table, pretending as if you were taking something out of your bag as kuroo was being distracted by the blond. neither of them were looking at you fortunately. as you placed your bag back over your shoulder, you slipped the letter right into the open satchel right at the same time–the envelope falling and disappearing into the depths of the bag.

“i’ve got to get to my next lecture,” you say to the two men, giving tsukishima a sly wink that it was a job well done. “i’ll see you guys around.”

checkmate.

fun facts! —

after kiyoko graduated and moved to tokyo, (y/n) and kiyoko kept in touch by sending each other cute handwritten letters

no one really is aware of that area in the back of the library since no one goes in that section often (this is uhh,, an important detail for later 😳)

taglist: (comment or send an ask to be added!)

@channiechanchan @elianetsantana @suhkusa @agaashesmilktea @dwcljh @duhsies @thevillagehiddenintheinternet @kitsunetea @morpheus-rex @noeminemi @ntimacy @kurokenchan @kittyddandnyla @amboisez @komouri @stargirlara @itsmeaudrieee @immxnty @spicyshinsou @bombardia @yammerss @crescenttooru @tadashi-simp @sunanyaa @saikishairclip @marvel-ing-at-it-all @seijqhigh @normalisthenewnorm @allielozoya @peteunderoos @inflxxtions @peg-legz4 @kawafika @apollochjld @bap-kingdom @yongboxerrr @kenssister @galacticyoongs

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smau #akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader #akaashi scenarios #akaashi imagines #akaashi smau #akaashi fluff

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thebakingqueen5 · 3 years

Text

KW 2021: The Sea & The Sky

Day 7 for Kataang Week 2021 hosted by @kataang-week with the prompt The Sea & The Sky!

Don't mind me crying in the corner that Kataang Week is basically over, but anyways I'm super proud of this last oneshot and hope you all enjoy it!

Links: AO3 | FF.net

Summary: Another year, another, another week of prompts celebrating our favorite couple. Kataang Week 2021 Day 7: The Sea & The Sky. Katara was the sea, Aang was the sky, destined to meet at the horizon where they were bound together for all eternity.

Word Count: 1.7K (barely)

The sea and sky, two entities as old as time itself. In some ways, as contrasting as the night and day, and in others, perfect reflections of one another.

The sea has always been below the sky, left to gaze upon the brilliance of the celestial bodies embedded in it for all eternity and reflecting the light of the bright stars beyond.

The sky has always been above the sea, forever peering down into its depths for the miracles and mysteries hidden beneath, and guiding its steady waves as they crash upon the shores of the Earth.

The sea is the reason the azure sky is adorned with feathery white wisps floating high above the ground, and the sky, in turn, fills the oceans and floods the rivers with the very liquid that makes survival possible.

The sea fosters life beneath its steady, undulating surface. It holds flora and fauna of all shapes, colors, and sizes, and it was a point of fascination for the sky. The sky, in all its glory, could not sustain anything for long. Even the birds that rode over its swift breezes had to eventually land somewhere below. And yet, the sky was free, a vast expanse of space that extended beyond what the sea could ever imagine to be possible. It wasn’t shackled by the chains of the planet, and the sea almost envied it.

In the days of old, when sailors ruled the seas, the ocean and her gentle waves would push them across great stretches of nothingness, while the sky and his stars would aid in guiding them on their journeys. Without the sky, those explorers would be lost at sea, and without the sea, their ambitions would remain sky-high with their dreams of traveling the world doomed to remain just that- dreams.

The sea and the sky have always been connected. Together, they make a thriving world possible. And so it follows that those so closely bonded to their elements, Aang and Katara, would be similarly linked by the fabric of space and time.

Though he was the Avatar, Aang’s native element was that of air. He preferred to soar on his glider high above the clouds, and gravity was a laughable concept to him. True to his airbending disposition, Aang’s natural inclinations were to evade conflict and obstacles in order to move forward, like a leaf on the wind.

Katara was born in the Southern Water Tribe, surrounded by ice, glaciers, and the frigid seas of the South Pole. She wielded the element of water, adapting and accepting things as they came since water was the element of change. She would experience swells of emotion similar to the waves, but she always came down into a steady balance, an ebb and flow just like tides.

Aang and Katara were not each other’s antithesis, far from it actually, but rather each other’s complements. Had they been such stark opposites, their relationship would’ve been much more turbulent, having the highest of highs but also the lowest of lows. They needed not a sharp contrast but rather a soft blend to allow them to communicate with and learn from one another. It was this that allowed them to work so well.

When Katara was firm and unyielding like a tsunami approaching the shore, Aang accepted her stance and often strengthened it. Consequently, if the airbender was flighty and indecisive, Katara would be there to ground him and guide him to something he felt confident in.

Katara was Aang’s earthly tether. When his head drifted up into the clouds, she pulled him back to the real world and allowed him to guide the four nations into an era of peace and prosperity. On the other hand, Aang showed Katara true freedom and what being unrestrained felt like. He brought her up with him on his glider and taught her to defy nature’s laws, to not be afraid to take exhilarating risks, and to keep her ambitions sky-high.

Their worlds collided like the brilliance of colors created as the sun set over the horizon, gradually leaving the realm of the sky and sinking into the sea. Some of their traits reflected each other like the sun’s rays on the sparkling surface of the water, and the others melded together well to make the glorious gradient that streaked the sky as night fell. Together, Aang and Katara created a rich harmony filled with overtones that mirrored the depth of their connection.

When they first met, that instant link, the bond that tied them together, was remarkably evident to all those around them. It was absolutely undeniable.

Though Sokka had mostly been joking when he had called Aang Katara’s boyfriend, there were still some astute observations lying under his exaggerated comment. Sokka knew his sister. She didn’t take to people too well, he had noticed over the years. Katara was protective, almost overly so, of the people she loved, and it was hard for her to let people in.

And yet here was Aang, a boy whom she had quite literally taken into her open arms without so much as a blink of hesitation, a boy whom she was ready to leave her tribe, everything and everyone she had ever known, and travel across the world for. It seemed so out of character. Katara didn’t usually make sense to her brother, but this was something different, something special.

Even Gran Gran had taken notice of the unique energy between them. “Aang is the Avatar,” she had told the Water Tribe siblings. “He is the world's only chance. You both found him for a reason. Now your destinies are intertwined with his,” and she was right.

That day, Aang and Katara had forged a connection that wouldn’t, that couldn’t, ever be severed. Breaking him out of the iceberg had been the catalyst for the rest of their lives together. Their adventures following only served to deepen and strengthen that link, allowing them to fall wholly and completely for one another and experience a love they didn’t know was possible.

Visiting Aunt Wu was the first time Katara had really stopped to consider how far their bond went and the strength of her feelings for Aang. She knew they had something unique, something exceptional, but she hadn’t ever thought it could run that deep. “The man you’re going to marry… I can see that he is a very powerful bender.” It made sense, didn’t it? The boy who had changed her life for the better would grow to be the man that she would spend the rest of her life with.

Their kiss in the Cave of the Lovers only further cemented the idea in her head, and a part of her began to believe that their meeting was fate, just like the tale of Oma and Shu. Aang, while still reeling from embarrassment at some of his words (“I’m saying I’d rather kiss you than die, that’s a compliment!”), also began to have similar thoughts, thinking that maybe they too had parallels to the starcrossed lovers and that the love that they shared would one day too be immortalized in legend.

The battle in the catacombs underneath Ba Sing Se seemed like an all too abrupt end to their story. It simply didn’t feel real. How could their link just have been cut off like that? No, Katara wasn’t ready to accept it. She couldn’t accept it. It went against the laws of the universe, it wasn’t possible.

She was going to do whatever it took to keep him there with her, and she did. She brought Aang back from the spirit world through the purest of love, light, and determination, and she made it her duty to never let such a thing happen again.

It was what allowed them to fulfill their roles as the Avatar and his waterbending master at Sozin’s Comet and have their kiss afterward, the early buddings of a relationship that would last a lifetime. Years later, they would go on to pronounce that love to all their friends and family, but, for now, they were more than just their fates.

Just as Aang was able to manipulate water along with his primary element of air, the heavens held clouds in its vast expanse of sky, connecting it to the sea. The sea sent water up in the form of vapor to create those fluffy masses above, and the sky releases the water that the clouds hold in torrents of rain back down to the ground, tying the two together in an endless cycle.

Similarly, waterbending was one of the many things that bound Aang and Katara. It was the reason they had met, the reason Katara was able to break Aang out of that iceberg, and it was the reason they embarked on their epic journey to the North Pole- to learn from the masters and even become ones themselves.

Waterbending linked them as sifu and pupil, strengthening their bond. Without waterbending, Aang may have never realized that fateful day of her adjusting his form of the effect she had on him, the full intensity of the pull, the attraction she held in his eyes.

Waterbending had made Katara especially attuned to the rhythm of the waves rising and falling, and it didn’t long for her to notice how her and Aang’s dynamic reflected it, ebbing and flowing in a delicate yet harmonious balance.

Their meeting had been fate, an event necessary for the survival of the world itself, but that did not define them. With each other, they were not their destinies. They were not the Avatar and his waterbending master, nor were they the beacon of hope for the future of the Air Nation.

No, they were Aang and Katara, two people who had defied all odds, overcome all obstacles, and quite literally gone to the Spirit World and back all in the name of love. They were not the heroes who had saved the world, but soulmates, fated just as the sky and the sea were to meet at their own horizon. They were two people irreversibly linked to each other then, now, and till the end of time itself.

#kataang week #kataang week 2021 #kataangtag #kataang #kataang fanfic #the sea and the sky #aang #katara #aang x katara #atla fanfiction #soulmates #bc yes

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pop-punklouis · 4 years

Note

top five HL fanfic!!!!

biiiiitch you all know how hard it is for me to choose only 5. but sigh FINE here’s my all-time favorite list that isn’t 5 sorry i can’t choose 😔:

• Here in the Afterglow (89k)

“If you hadn’t noticed, I don’t have many friends,” Louis whispers, the blossom of insecurity in his stomach unfurling and clawing its way into his throat.

Harry is silent for a long time, and then he speaks; a soft, slow uncurl that makes Louis’ stomach shake. “I’ll be your friend.” 1970’s AU. In a tiny town in Idaho, Louis’ life is changed forever by the arrival of a curious stranger.

• Coax the Cold (86k)

England, 1897.

English Professor Louis Tomlinson’s passion for the occult has been a source of mockery and derision for most of his life. When he hears whispers of a travelling freak show newly established in London claiming the existence of a monstrous sea hybrid, half-man, half-fish, Louis sees it as his ticket to credibility amongst his peers. The summer he spends undercover working on the show, however, gives him much more than that.

• Wild and Unruly (124k)

Harry is a cowboy sitting on the biggest oil reservoir in Wyoming, and Louis is the paralegal assigned to pressure him into selling his land.

• This Wicked Game (70k)

An AU in which The Bachelor is gay, Louis is a contestant, Harry is the bachelor, everyone drinks a lot of champagne, the entire world gets to watch them fall in love, and no one plays by the rules.

• Love is a Rebellious Bird (135k)

AU in which the boys still make music. Louis is the concertmaster of the London Symphony Orchestra, Harry is the New! and Exciting! interim conductor/ex-cello prodigy who "has made Mozart cool again" according to Esquire Magazine (Louis hates him immediately, which is definitely why he internet stalked him in his dark bedroom late at night that one time), and Niall is the best. Zayn and Liam are around too.

• Fixated On One Star (53k)

Louis is just a boy with the world on his shoulders, and Harry's just a boy from the wrong side of the galaxy. A little thing like love doesn't stand a chance against a thousand years of war, at least until the right two come along to break the mold.

Or: space Romeo and Juliet AU

• Finding Lou (60k)

Louis is the nomadic stranger who wanders into Harry’s bookstore. Harry is the skeptic who falls for him.

• California Sold

Notoriously closeted boyband member Harry Styles is famous on a global scale, meanwhile Louis, as his best friend, is back home in Manchester, living the typical life of a 24 year old. When Harry needs Louis with him in LA, a publicity stunt gone wrong changes their friendship forever.

A fake-relationship AU between two lifelong best friends.

• Empty Skies (134k)

For three years, Harry has been running from his past. Now, he is moving to London and pledges to fulfil his only dream -- making it big in the music industry. Not everyone has a place, though, and the competition is tough. As is his past catching up on him.

Louis is part of the biggest boy band of the world, and getting there had meant a lot of hard work, as well as sacrificing parts of his heart and soul. He's still happy. Maybe not as happy as he could be, but who is he to complain?

• And Then a Bit (159k)

“We’d like to give the fans what they want.” Magee states, placing his hand on the table in front of him and leaning forward. “We want to give them Larry Stylinson.”

Or, take a parallel universe where Louis and Harry were never together, mix in a two year hiatus and an impending comeback, pour in a dash of lost fans, two tablespoons of strong friendship and a Modest! employee with a good idea. Add a squeeze of pretending to be a couple, lots of kisses and a tattoo or two. Stir. Serve: the mother of all publicity stunts. (aka Harry and Louis fake a relationship for publicity. Eventually it becomes a lot less fake and a lot more real.)

• Dream Awake (31k)

The sun leaks through the tent wall behind him the way it leaks through eyelids, bathing the boy in an ethereal half-light as he croons. The crowd is mesmerized. Louis is mesmerized. This is the most important person in the world, he thinks wildly, and then can't figure out how to take it back.

On a hazy day in August, Louis sees Harry perform at a music festival as an unsigned act and convinces him to spend the rest of the weekend in his company. Harry gets signed; life changes. They never really wake up from the dream.

• Say You’ll Remember (93.5k)

au. louis and harry are best mates that are only half aware that they're also soulmates. alternatively, louis goes to university and harry travels the world, and they always manage to find their way back to each other.

takes place over nine years, in which they love and hurt, make mistakes and learn, and above all, grow.

• Outwit, Outplay, Outlast (61k)

Survivor All-Stars AU in which Harry and Louis are just in this game to win the million dollars, but they end up with something better.

Featuring Harry's yellow swim shorts, Louis in snapbacks, and OT5 shenanigans.

• Nothing Else But Us Right Here (35k)

Louis sighs and gives himself a mental pep talk as he smooths his jumper down over his hips. He can do this. He can resist the draw of Harry Styles, because he is a responsible, mature adult, and as much as he wants to tangle his fingers in that mess of hair and map those ridiculous tattoos with his tongue, he does not want to get his daughter’s favorite teacher fired.

• Wings to Break Your Fall (103k)

strip club AU. Harry’s work and family are keeping him busy. He really isn’t looking for a relationship, doesn’t want one. He just wants Louis. Problem is, Louis has other plans.

• Leave it to the Breeze (81k)

Louis couldn’t be prouder of his bake, but there’s something—there’s something. Something about Harry Styles and the earnest way he measures, pours, mixes, scrapes. Something about the tip of his tongue poking out of his mouth as he knocks the air out of his batter.

or a great british bake off au in which louis cares about winning and winning only, harry is made of sunshine and rainbow sprinkles, and niall sticks his nose into other people's business. also featuring liam as louis's best friend-slash-concerned mother, and zayn as a macaron connoisseur.

• You Come Beating Like Moth’s Wings (81k)

Harry smiles. He's only known Louis for about two hours, knows nothing about him past his first name, but he's nice and sarcastic and helpful and so, so pretty. And Harry's still got a few days left in Barcelona, and he thinks he wouldn't mind spending them with Louis.

Also known as, Harry takes the summer before uni to travel Europe and meets Louis in Barcelona, and they end up traveling together.

• Hold Me Closer (36.5k)

Louis Tomlinson is one of the most promising dancers of the English National Ballet, on track to become the youngest principal dancer in the company's history. That is, until forces conspire to significantly complicate his life, including: a surprise ballet, an unfairly attractive guest choreographer, and being pushed into a rivalry with his best mate. Featuring lots of wine, dancing, pining, and a happy ending.

• In Vogue (121k)

Fashion AU. Louis is the editor in chief of Vogue magazine, and Harry's running British GQ. Featuring Zayn as the crazy creative director and Louis' confidant, Liam as the sports writer that gets to sit front row at fashion week and DJ Neil as the only sane person in the whole story. (There are no skinny jeans in this fic)

• These Things Will Never Change for Us at All (1.5k)

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#whew!#favorite fics #grey

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ladyeliot · 3 years

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Prologue [T.S. / J.H.]

Series: “Anything that can go wrong will go wrong”

Pairing: Tony Stark/Justin Hammer x Fem!Reader

Summary: Seaville, Maine, 1991. The sudden death of Tony Stark’s parents forces him to return to the town he left behind when he went to study at MIT (Boston). With his arrival, all the memories he thought he had erased come back to him. The events of his last year of high school and that summer of 1988 appear to him as if they were ghosts from the past, forcing him to confront them and causing him to rethink his life.

Warnings: Death of parents. Funeral. Drunkenness.

Word Count: 5574

A/N: Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

Christmas 1991 (4th year at MIT)

Who would have thought that after leaving that small coastal town in the state of Maine and having promised himself never to set foot in that place again, he would have to return. On that December 17, 1991, the press and every other media outlet reported a devastating news story that had happened the night before, "Howard and Maria Stark die in a car accident on Seaville". The impact of the news was far and wide, the country woke up the next morning to a headline that generated controversy about how it had happened and who would take over Howard Stark's position at his company's New York headquarters.

But none of that was relevant to Tony Stark's mind, who barely uttered a word when Edwin Jarvis crashed the MIT Christmas party with a phone call to inform him of the event. Maybe it was the amount of alcohol in his blood, or the fact that he could barely hear his own thoughts under the infernal noise of techno music, but it took him a few minutes to react. Just a few hours ago a long discussion with his father over the phone had managed to infuriate him, the fact that he again decided to spend the holidays away from his family and did not choose to return to Seaville he knew that his father cared little, but any excuse was good to lash out at him, or at least Tony thought so.

The first thing that came to his mind as he reacted were the last words addressed to each of them, a clearly sarcastic discussion with his father and a feigned indifference towards his mother because of his anger, who was trying to calm the situation between the two of them. That was the last thing the three of them experienced and it would mark Tony Stark's life forever.

The Stark family owned a multinational technology company that spread its power throughout the country, and Howard Stark had been in charge of it, as he was the one who ran it from its beginnings until his death. Few were the memories of Tony's childhood in which his father was present, he was always travelling and when they met again during the holidays they barely spoke to each other, because whenever they did, a fight between them would come to light. That was how Tony had written off their relationship. But things were different with his mother, who always tried to mediate between them and cared about him. It was she who interceded when Howard wanted to send Tony to boarding school abroad, or when she wanted him to change his residence to New York.

As he remembered all those things, a pang of guilt came over young Tony Stark, but Jarvis's words from the other end of the phone line brought him back to his senses.

"The funeral will be held first thing tomorrow morning, sir. You don't have to worry about anything, it's all set," Tony who stood leaning against a door frame in the fraternity house nodded impassively. "A car will pick you up in two hours so you can get there on time, sir?"

"Thank you Jarvis," he said deadpan just before he hung up the phone again and faced one of the hardest nights.

The apathy that can produce tragic situations in people can be somewhat frivolous, especially if you are one of those people who find it difficult to express your feelings. The drive from Boston to Seaville took about four hours, some roads were impassable due to the snowfall that had occurred during that winter period. The numerous phone calls he had received along the way, most of them about the future of the family business, added to his apathy. No one understood how he felt, let alone anyone else, and he was alone in the world with Jarvis.

He took in the closeness of the place as he gazed out to sea. Seaville was known for its beautiful sunsets overlooking Maine Bay, the town had a population of just eight thousand, but it maintained an unblemished reputation as a community of artists and sailors, a fact that added to the economic status of the region. Maria Stark, formerly Collins, was born there, and it was her affection for her roots that led her to settle there again when she became pregnant with Tony's child. For a time Tony also shared her love of Seaville, but there were too many negative memories buried in the streets for him to return of his own free will.

When Tony saw the sign indicating the start of the Seaville settlement for the first time in four years, the knot that had been sitting in his stomach for hours increased its pressure, preventing him from barely breathing. He opted to keep his gaze fixed on a set of documentation about the company that Obadiah Stane had sent him before his departure from Boston, and tried to concentrate his thoughts on external things.

"Sir, we're here," the gentleness in Jarvis' voice reassured Tony after pulling him out of his thoughts.

The words spoken by the young adult had been sparse, barely possessing more than one syllable. As he stepped out of the car he recognised the place, and it was just then that it crossed his mind that he wished anything could have stood in his way, just so he would not have come to this place.

The funeral had been arranged in the Seaville cemetery, a place on the top of a small hill surrounded by a wide grassy esplanade with birch trees. Jarvis stood by his side, waiting for him to take his first step to join him, but Tony's limbs seemed to be locked at that very moment.

"Your mother always spoke of the peace of this place," he commented, urging Tony to walk. "She would have wanted something intimate."

The funeral had been arranged as quickly as possible to avoid the crowds and to keep the wishes his mother would have wanted. The last thing he expected was for them to turn his parents' funeral into a public event and for any news channel or media outlet, national or international, to broadcast it like it was a bloody movie.

"That's right."

After Tony took the first step, the next two hours went quicker than he would have thought, Jarvis was right in his words, there was peace in the place and Tony found that out. It was fortunate for him that they arrived when most people were already there, it meant that for the moment he didn't have to hear any comments lamenting the event from anyone present. So he just hid his gaze under a pair of sunglasses, avoiding eye contact with any grieving faces. He recognised many of those present, from employees of local businesses to some Stark Industries officials who had managed to arrive in time after hearing the news. Still, while he wanted to avoid bumping into anyone, he was hopeful of the presence of several people, who were probably not going to be there for external reasons. Either because they did not yet know the news or were not in town at the time.

With the reverend's last words the coffins of his parents were lowered and buried several feet underground. Tony was unable to take on the role of offering a few words, he simply stood there quietly and received the condolences of several of those present. As they passed by one by one, Tony merely offered them a simple nod with his face, barely looking up. It was minutes later when Jarvis put his hand on his shoulder, awaiting their departure for the car, but Tony needed a moment.

"You can go to reception, Jarvis, I'll stay a bit longer," he informed her. "By the way, if you see that I haven't arrived before I'm done, don't worry, just go home."

"I don't know if..."

"Please, Jarvis," she said without looking at him.

"All right, sir."

The funeral reception at the home of his youth would only foster an increase in his feelings of guilt, he would not be able to walk through that door and lock himself within those four walls, find out if everything was as he left it or if there had been any changes in the four years since he left for MIT, so he decided to let time pass.

He reached a point where the sun was setting, his mind hadn't noticed the passage of time but he sat in that chair for three hours. He was so lost in thought that he barely noticed a presence behind him until the person approached the graves and dropped a small bunch of daisies on the freshly scattered sand, a fact that made Tony wipe away his tears quickly.

Tony stood up while being grateful for the change in his body's posture, his watery eyes didn't allow him to recognise the figure at first, but after blinking a couple of times he realised that his brain wasn't playing tricks on him. It was you. You didn't hesitate to approach him and put your arms around his shoulders, causing Tony's body to become paralysed. His wits had been switched off for hours, as had his mind, but that moment brought his senses back to life. Your scent, your warmth, your body contact, your eyes, and hearing your breath so close again turned his broken heart.

"I..." began Tony in a whisper.

"Don't say anything," you cut him off without breaking the embrace.

After a minute you opted to pull away, seeking eye contact with him, which was prevented by Tony's sunglasses, so without giving up you reached up to them and slowly took them off, noticing that under them those hazel eyes were still present, slightly reddened.

"There you are," you said with a wistful smile.

Tony hated himself for not being able to cope properly with the moment that was unfolding before him. But he accepted that you of all people knew his limitations when it came to expressing feelings, whether they were positive or negative. It was true, you knew, so having enjoyed seeing that under that suit and his new appearance he was still the same Tony Stark you knew, you put his glasses back in place.

"I guess you'll be wishing you were alone," you said, lowering your gaze. "You know where to find me if you need me."

You offered him one last smile, which almost took Tony's breath away and, just as you had reached him, you turned around to continue on your way.

Unlike the funeral, the news seemed to have already been published in most of the sensationalist media in the country, so the funeral reception at the Stark house welcomed more than two hundred people who wanted to give their condolences, but those condolences never reached Tony, as he hardly appeared there. It wasn't until after half past ten at night, with the moon showing its clear figure in the sky, that he came face to face with his past.

Jarvis had taken it upon himself to collect every bit of food and flowers that the guests had brought with them, a gesture that Tony was grateful for, for now he only had to face his past memories and not the present situation. As he entered the hall and walked into the living room he realised that it was a vivid image of his childhood, the mantelpiece displayed before him filled with Christmas decorations, a large tree full of ornaments, most of them homemade, made by his mother, garlands draped around the mantelpiece and Christmas boots. That was a shock. After clicking her tongue, she opted to walk away in the direction of the kitchen, the knot in her stomach having mingled with roars informing her that she'd better eat something if she didn't want to pass out. Jarvis had been considerate enough to save some leftovers from the reception, so he grabbed the plate of larded meat and headed off to face the floor above. The night was going to be a long one.

After climbing the wide marble stairs he discovered a closed door at the end of the corridor, with a sign reading "Genius at work", those three words provided perhaps the first smile in hours. He walked towards it with a series of doubts in his gut, but eager to know what he would find behind it. He placed his hand on the doorknob and turned it, the first thing his senses picked up was a deep musty smell, the gloom was still there, but soft rays from the moon coming through the window made him resemble each of the furniture and objects there.

Before him time had not passed, his large room filled with gadgets on every shelf and desk remained just as he had left it before he left for MIT in the summer of 1988. He placed the plate on the bedside table and slipped his hands into his pockets, walking around the room. His outward calmness was extreme, though inside he seemed to be distressed and nostalgic. A crunching sound under the soles of his shoes made him realise that several screws and pieces of metal were lying on the carpet. Everything was as messy as he left it, even that robot he had made for his last academic year in high school was in pieces on the desk.

"Idiot," she said, glaring at him.

It was at that very moment that it dawned on him how exhaustion, both mental and physical, was consuming them. Tony flopped face down on his bed with his eyes closed, letting the fragrance of his sheets envelop his senses. Every aspect of his surroundings seemed to take him back to his high school years, so he struggled to keep it from happening, opening his eyes again and recomposing himself on the mattress. He slowly surveyed every nook and cranny of his bedroom again, until he let his gaze linger on a wooden box next to a trophy from the state's Artificial Intelligence contest.

"Shit..." he muttered to himself.

He knew its contents, he knew that it was perhaps the most dangerous thing to be found in those four walls, he knew that it was possibly the thing that was going to destabilise him emotionally, but he had to get his hands on it again and open it. So he jumped towards that shelf and took the box in his hands, opening the lid and making all the contents scattered on his bed.

Dozens of photographs practically flew out of the box and landed on the bedspread, each one showing a unique moment in Tony's life, the curious thing is that in the vast majority of them you were present, and when you weren't, it was you who had taken them. On the white borders were written different words, in your handwriting, leaving a record of when and where they were taken. "Steve's seventeenth birthday", "First game of the 1987 season", "Christmas 1985", "First day of high school Steve, Murph, Nat and Tony" "Graduation day", "Murph trying to fish with Nat", "Murph's eighteenth birthday", "Beach party", "Murph driving to Portland", "Murph roasting clouds", "Murph..."

A clattering noise pulled Tony out of the halo of longing he had become, that damn automatic mobile phone that was impossible to break away from as it was the only thing that connected him to his future, Stark Industries, began to ring. Tears streamed down his cheeks, but fleetingly disappeared as he wiped them away with the sleeve of his jacket before picking up the phone.

"Hello?" he asked with his eyes closed and his head down.

One of the company's senior managers was behind the phone line from New York, the discussion became heated, they were demanding his presence at the company's New York headquarters as soon as possible. He had been receiving those calls ever since the tragic accident had reached the shareholders' ears, the curious thing is that none of them were to inquire about his state of mind or even his state of mind, so that was how it pushed him over the edge, showing the hidden feelings he had inside.

"My parents are fucking dead and that's all you care about?" he shouted into the phone. "Can't you stop thinking about your own interests for once in your life?"

The device landed against the headboard of his bed, the funny thing is that even so the voice of the major shareholder was still making its presence felt, to which Tony completely beside himself left the room and closed the door generating a deafening echo throughout the house. He knew he was not going to be quiet until he did what these people wanted, his freedom was gone, too many things were gone. From that moment on, he had become one of the most powerful men in the country overnight, and in the same way he had acquired numerous responsibilities that he was not yet ready to assume.

As he dropped in the middle of the stairs, hiding his face with his hands, a strong headache came over him, an accumulation of sensations and feelings prevented him from reacting to calm down, it was then that after a few minutes he went downstairs quickly, heading towards his father's cupboard in the office. During his youth he had approached that cupboard too many times, usually full of alcoholic beverages, but when he went to open it, he was shocked to find it completely empty. He hoped that the location of those bottles had changed to somewhere else, so Tony opted to quickly rummage through any place he could think of where there might be a bottle, but his search was in vain.

"Shit!" he slapped his hand on the kitchen counter. "Shit, shit, shit!"

Almost unconsciously he headed back to his father's office and opened the top desk drawer, where he found a box with a combination, oddly enough the one from his birthday, inside was a collection of keys, he pulled out the one to his red porsche.

He knew and acknowledged that the state of nerves he was in was not the best to get behind the wheel, but he was really desperate, and there was no one to slow him down at that moment. He drove to the first place that came to his mind, as there were not really too many choices in that coastal town that could be found open at that time of night. On the side of Maine Bay, near Seaville harbour, was the Captain Lou's, a perfect place to go for a fresh fish dinner or after-dinner drinks.

He was driving at such high speeds that it took him barely five minutes to pull into the car park, braking so aggressively that he left wheel marks on the road. He got out of the car still wearing his funeral clothes, with his hair completely dishevelled and hiding his eyes under his sunglasses. The place was a fisherman's house situated on an old pier, there was a small porch before entering where a small bell rang as Tony opened the door, he instantly recognised old Lou behind the bar, who was still holding his place as usual. He looked around, taking off his sunglasses for the first time, leaving his brown eyes completely swollen and reddened, which would make an impression on anyone who saw him, but Tony didn't really care at the moment. Still, he was grateful that the place wasn't too rowdy, just two small groups of adults and a couple at a far table. The bar was completely empty, so he took a seat at it, when Lou approached he was a bit perplexed by his presence, but he chose to take it as a matter of course.

"Sorry about your parents Tony," he said wiping the bar right in front of him.

"Give me two of the strongest you've got," he said ignoring her comment.

Just as Lou had poured him two glasses of whiskey, Tony digested them seconds later, informing him to refill them. Tony knew what he wanted, a night to forget, perhaps in the worst place to forget, as it was all memories. While he waited for a refill, as Lou was hesitating, Tony turned his gaze to the far table where the couple were having a drink, since he had entered there was something strange on that table, he thought he had seen someone familiar, he squinted his eyes hoping to sharpen his sense of sight, which was quite impaired at the moment, but it dawned on him. It was you, again, with an unknown boy whose face he couldn't see, as his back was to Tony. Without taking his eyes off you, he quickly gulped down the two glasses of whiskey Lou had poured for him.

"Put the bottle down," he said without paying attention to Lou.

The minutes passed, he was hesitant, irritated, distressed and completely broken inside by the accumulation of situations he had experienced in less than a day, and now he found you there, listening to your laughter, with an unknown guy. It was really the last thing he needed to end the day. The alcoholic solution was slowly affecting his senses, he had barely eaten all day, his only intake had just been four glasses of whiskey and that increased his feeling of drunkenness, along with all his negative emotions. As if something inside him was guiding him to you, Tony picked up the bottle of whiskey, which Lou had definitely been forced to leave on the bar, and staggered up from the stool. His jaw completely rigid, he walked as if an external force was pushing him from side to side, until he reached your table. You could hardly believe your eyes, the same thing happened to Tony, he could hardly believe you were there, next to him, and what hurt him the most was that you hadn't stopped laughing since he practically walked in. That generated the rage that joined with his sarcasm coming out.

"Tony..." you whispered, causing your companion to look up at him.

"Wow! But who do we have here?" a hysterical laugh came from within you. "The prodigious Justin Hammer. Wow... I didn't see you at my parents' funeral, how strange, with how fond you were of my father... I thought I'd see you around."

Yes, your escort that night was Justin Hammer, the cherry on top to make him remember Tony.

"Ah, no, that all that love was just because you wanted to get a good position at Stark Industries," Tony dropped his hand on Justin's shoulder and approached him. "Bingo! Now I'm the CEO, are you going to lick my ass like my father too?" the Stark sarcasm was again booming.

Your gaze flicked between Tony and Justin, who kept a straight face, keeping his composure in the situation. Tony took a small swig from the bottle he held firmly in his right hand, he could barely see your faces as his mind was affected in multiple ways.

"Oh, sorry for the interruption by the way," a burp came from inside him. "Was that a date? Are you two dating?" Tony arched an eyebrow pointing at you respectively. "Oh man, I see you didn't get a position at my company, but you hit the jackpot," he began to laugh. "Hey! I'm glad, you two make a cute couple. Yeah! I mean it, you're perfect for each other."

Tony's bitter words came out under your serious and sorrowful gaze. "Mind you, I have to warn you that in bed..." he began, but you instantly got up from your chair and grabbed his shoulders.

"Alright Tony, I think you've had enough to drink for tonight," you gripped the bottle tightly, in a failed attempt to take it from him.

Tony's impediment to having the bottle taken from him caused him to stumble into the table behind him, causing him to lose his balance, to which Justin Hammer quickly got up to try and hold him down.

"Don't even think about touching me," Tony said in a somewhat aggressive tone with a scowl.

"Tony..." you pleaded holding him by the arm.

The plea that came from between your lips made him react before the situation reached a point where there was no turning back. Hearing his name and seeing your gaze, he felt as if a dagger was stabbing into his heart, another one.

"Yep... I'd better go. Show's over here for today," Tony said, putting on his jacket properly and stumbling towards the bar, leaving two hundred dollar notes behind. "Keep the change, Lou, I'll take the bottle."

Just as he had walked in, well, with a drunken state in his body, he walked out. The door closed behind him, to which Tony then made a difficult attempt to descend the stairs without holding onto the railing at the same time as he pulled the keys to the Porsche out of his back pocket. The five metres to the car seemed like an eternity trying to maintain a dignified posture as he fought against the spinning of his head, but it was just as he was about to open the driver's door that a presence pulled him back.

"I'm not going to let you take the car in this state," Tony smiled broadly with arrogance as he sensed your presence behind him. "I don't want to go to another funeral tomorrow."

"I think your date would love to attend."

His mood was completely bipolar, a minute ago he might have been able to throw Hammer out the window, right now his arrogance was winning the day. Reluctantly you snatched the keys from his hands, heading for the passenger door while holding Tony by the arm.

"Just like that? Honey, I knew how much you loved my car and how much fun we had, but..." a half smile, his half smile that drove you so crazy, both in the positive and negative sense came across Tony's face.

"Shut the fuck up, get in the car and let me take you home so I can sleep soundly tonight," your voice sounded stiff and angry.

"Why don't you stay?" whispered Tony in a poor attempt to show seduction, as his voice sounded drunk and gave off a strong smell of alcohol. "Although I can't promise it's going to be a quiet night."

Your mood wasn't prepared to put up with Tony's nonsense, let alone in his state, so you pushed his head towards the inside of the car. From there, Tony could watch as you said goodbye to Justin, to whom you handed the bottle of Whiskey he had admirably taken from Tony without him even noticing, and then climbed in beside him.

"Tell me the truth, you and Justin Hammer?" the laughter of Tony flooded the place as you started the car. "How quickly you forget the hard knocks of the past."

"You have no idea..." you whispered wryly to yourself.

"Honey, I think you can do better than that," the arrogance was in his voice, which reminded you of times gone by.

You listened to his comments in silence, keeping your eyes on the road, avoiding getting into a stupid argument with someone who was drunk and barely able to cope with the many feelings he had.

"I recognise that look, you're angry," he continued, breaking the silence. "I know, I get it, I've ruined your date tonight. Although I must admit it didn't look very stimulating from the outside, but I'm not one to judge."

"Exactly," you mused.

"I was quite surprised though, I thought that by now you and Steve... well you know, that you would be together, after everything that happened..." those words from Tony caused your right foot to stop dead in its tracks at that instant.

"After what happened?!" the disbelief was in your eyes. "Alright... Look Tony, you're nobody to show up here after three and a half years of showing no signs of life and barge into other people's lives to judge them. So shut your mouth and let me take you home quietly."

Those words of Tony's had struck a chord within you, your eyes became watery.

"You know I didn't come back because I wanted to," Tony said seriously. "But don't worry, I'll disappear from here tomorrow."

"Great. It's what you do best."

Instantly you regretted what you had said. The ride to the Stark residence continued in silence, neither of us taking it upon ourselves to break it. Tony kept his head leaning against the window, eyes closed, head lolling slightly against the glass, but strangely he had found comfort in the position. As you walked into the garden you got out of the car without so much as a glance at her, slamming the door which was what seemed to wake him up and let him know you had reached your destination.

"You know where the phone is," Tony reported, opening the car door and clumsily getting out.

It seemed like hours before he reached the front door, found the keys, managed to choose the right key, inserted it into the lock and opened it. In the kitchen the phone was waiting for you, you were lucky that there was a phone book and it didn't take you long to find the number of the taxi service. In the meantime Tony dropped his body on the sofa.

"The taxi won't be long, I'd better wait for it at the entrance," you approached him.

"Great," Tony said impassively.

The room was spinning around inside Tony's head, he kept his eyes open and staring at the ceiling, it was funny, he thought, he used to get drunk regularly at college parties, but this seemed to have affected him as if he had never tasted alcohol before.

"You know," Tony said without looking at you. "There was always the idea in the back of my mind that things could have been otherwise, if it hadn't been for..."

"Don't finish the sentence. Or you know you'll regret saying it tomorrow," you stopped your steps, as you were already heading to leave, and turned around to look at him. "Look, I don't know what you want Tony. I don't know what you want me to say, and I don't know what you're looking for by stirring up the past with your words. I understand it's been a hard day, maybe the hardest day, and I can't come to grips with what you might be going through," you knelt down beside him. "If you need my help, I've told you before, you know where I am, but please let's not make this night any more complicated," your words were soft, so soft that Tony turned his gaze to you.

There you were again, on that couch, Tony lying down, you kneeling next to him, looking at each other, neither of you would have ever thought that scene could ever happen. Your words were tender, you felt vulnerable in front of him at that moment, and all he really needed was someone to show him affection, even though he didn't know it.

"The last thing I want right now is to argue with you," you whispered, ducking your face. "I'm sorry for yelling at you in the car earlier, and I'm sorry for what I said. I don't want my last memory of you to be like that."

It had been years since the two of you had been within such close distance of each other. Tony found that despite the haircut, your appearance had hardly changed. That mole under his left eye was still there, and the rosy cheeks you'd gotten from the cold still gave him a glimpse of the field of freckles that covered them. The small scar on your chin, which you got when you fell off your bike because he had thrown the football in your direction, was also there. A shudder came over you, causing you to quickly get up from that position and regain your composure, as a hundred memories seemed to come flooding back. Tony made an attempt to sit up, but at that moment the horn of a car saved the situation.

"Oh!" you looked at Tony and pointed to the front door. "I'd better go, I.... Goodnight Tony."

"Goodnight..." mused Tony watching you leave.

Silence took over the house again after the front door closed following your departure. Tony stood there, staring at the emptiness you had left for the second time in him, thinking of a title for your whole story.

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kpopchangedmylife44 · 3 years

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Ateez: honeymoon thread

Hello fellow atinys, my blog reached 500 followers and I would like to thank everyone, who enjoys my stories 🥺 I’m really happy that someone out there gets to read them and it maybe put a smile on their face ☺️ So this is a 500 follower special. It’s a long thread and also kind of a sequel of my wedding post. I planned it for quite some time, but I also procrastinated and everything was overwhelming in life. Now I’m back (kinda) and will start to work on the requests I got. ✨

Hongjoong

Planning: although you both were extremely tired, you insisted to plan everything yourself, so it turned out exactly how you imagined

Location: Italy

Accommodation: several cozy hotels in bigger cities

Food: it’s Italy so you can bet your ass there is a lot of pizza, spaghetti and ice cream involved

Activities:

- you would start your honeymoon in Rome, where you wander around and fall in love with the city

- the architecture and museums are extremely beautiful, so you’re even more happy that you get to experience it with Hongjoong

- visiting Verona and pretending you were Romeo and Juliet (but with a happy ending)

- eating a lot and wearing comfortable clothes as you walk around so much

- Hongjoong is particular affectionate during this trip as he showers you with compliments all the time and never lets go of your hand

- exploring Venice by boat and singing some dramatic song that you once heard in a opera

- wearing couple jackets he designed himself which feature your initials 🥺

- he filmed parts of the trips as he would like to make a short film, which you could enjoy afterwards

Seonghwa

Planning: since you both hated it, you were hiring someone to do it for you, at least you had prepared a mood board and the general direction of your trip

Location: south of France

Accommodation: fancy all the way, either a really nice hotel or a little castle (or chateau how you say it in French)

Food: grapes in the form of wine

Activities:

- prepare yourself for the luxurious trip of a lifetime

- you’re arriving there and everything is ready for you both

- first are reFrEsHMents (which means alcohol)

- full course meals (and yes, this includes your husbands looks)

- boat trips and visiting tiny islands for the day

- taking a lot of selfies

- enjoying the sun and the food (and Seonghwa in swimwear)

- skinny dipping in the sea

- hot nights in the hot tub

- testing wine and feeling a little pretentious

- visiting a chateau and running around there like a music video

- Seongwha saying ,,so ha“ when he sees you

- kisses your hand and hair all the time and is more clingy (or thirsty) than usual

Yunho

Planning: you try to plan without the stressful part, so you ask a professional for help and it’s really smooth from this point on

Location: nationalparks in the USA

Accommodation: small hotels along the road (not Motels)

Food: normal restaurants, but also a lot of burgers

Activities

- it’s like a roadtrip, but way more comfortable

- you sleep in cozy little hotels and visit some bigger cities along the way

- wandering around the nature with Yunho is actually really fun

- although he is quite hyper around everyone he enjoys the calmness of your trip

- always holding your hand and kissing you

- you visit several national parks like Yosemite and could gaze at the stars during the night

- englishi Time

- he is no longer yunhoe bit yunhusband (i’m sorry)

- buys dumb souvenirs like mood rings which you religiously wear from then on

- thought that he saw a bear and almost started crying

- singing really loudly in the forest

- oh and also outdoor sex

Yeosang

Planning: 8 months before the trip, but he actually always had ideas; planned his wedding and honeymoon years ago when he first met you, he also made a mood board and it helped a lot

Location: Japan during the cherry blossom

Accommodation: a traditional house with a lot of privacy, an onsen but also room service, does not look like a hotel but has all the privileges

Food: lots of chicken; Japanese dishes, but also snacks whenever you go out to explore

Activities

- you would first explore Tokyo and visit everything the city has to offer

- as the city is really beautiful but also hectic, you would visit Nara-park and pet the deers to relax

- you would let some street artist paint a portrait of you both as it’s a really fun idea to remember the trip

- shiba inus everywhere and Yeosang melts every time he sees one of them

- ,,Look at how cute they are. We need to adopt at least one in the future“ (and you would, because they are so adorable)

- fotoshootings with the cherry blossom

- after a week in the urban area you would travel along the coast

- Yeosang rented a car for it and you stayed at different hotels along the way, which you also booked prior

- you visited a little island where a lot of bunnys live and had the best time there

- Yeosang always buys souvenirs whenever you visit a new city or attraction

- he especially loves the postcards as he plans to do a collage with them for your honeymoon fotobook

- driving along the coast would be peaceful and filled with laughter, Yeosang giggling to himself and feeling like all of this might as well be a dream

- ,,I never knew it was possible to love someone so much until I met you“

San

Planning: you booked the trip 6 months prior and you gradually became more and more excited for it, although both of you aren’t really into planning, you did it with a lot of excitement and talked about it for hours on end

Location: South Africa

Accommodation: a huge wooden house in the middle of a resort that focuses on reserving the wildlife

Food: a huge variety of fruits and meat, the dinner is a feast every single day of your stay (and so is your husband)

Activities:

- the journey itself would be really cute as you were flying first class and cuddled all the way until you arrived

- San even mumbled in his sleep how excited he was to finally go

- when you arrived you took it really easy, just relaxing at the resort, which also had huge beds and a stunning outdoor area with a whirlpool

- the first evening you relaxed in that whirpool, while spotting some giraffes in the distance and it just hit you like ,,Wow, look how amazing life could be” (bish, I wish)

- you never really believed that you would ever be this happy, finding someone that you loved and going on adventures with him but here you are

- and of course San felt it too, but you just sat there enjoying it, holding hands and not saying anything

- the next couple of days included going on safari, climbing a mountain, standing under a waterfall and chasing sunsets

- it was the perfect balance between adventure and relaxing

- because of your husband you always felt a calmness by his presence

- ,,I wish we could do this all over again, San.“

- ,,Well, we have the rest of our lives to go on adventures like this.“ 🥺🥺🥺

Mingi

Planning: like the wedding itself it happened quite fast without much planning

Location: Australia

Accommodation: several hotels as you also rented a car

Food: some really strange exotic food, but mostly real meals with the occasional burger and cocktails

Activities

- the focus is on having fun, enjoying every moment and just going with the flow

- after all its Mingi, who has a lot of spontaneous ideas

- why not go snorkeling or run naked around the beaches?

- or that time he was convinced that he saw a shark and you both panicked and screamed (but it was a dolphin)

- going to a concert at the beach and dancing until your feet hurt and he has to carry you

- also sleeping at the same beach as you two were too drunk to find the way back to the hotel

- Mingi being extra clingy and giving some people the stink eye, who look too enthusiastically at you

- he wrote a rap for you (inspired by your honeymoon) and performed it by the ocean

- it’s like having the best trip of your life and realising it doesn’t end when you get home, because having Mingi as your husband is a great adventure and he spends every day trying to make you laugh and love life

Wooyoung

Planning: the location itself was decided a long time ago, but the activities are more spontaneous, just going with the flow

Location: Iceland

Accommodation: first in a hotel, then in a mobile home

Food: fresh food like fish and also a lot of snacks

Activities:

- your honeymoon and accommodation were a little unconventional

- you started in the city of Reyjkavic and visited the touristy sights

- you stumbled around the Icelandic phallological museum and decided to go inside for the lols (and had a lot of giggles)

- after a few days in the city you ventured out to the beautiful nature of Iceland

- it started at the blue lagoon, which was the most relaxing thing and you were just hanging out and sipping slushees (they are really good, I had the time of my life lmao)

- then you drive around and it feels like absolute freedom

- you feel like exploring a whole new world as they are a lot of waterfalls and geysers

- Wooyoung feels like he is falling in love with you even more (if that’s even possible) and if he hadn’t already, he would marry you then and there again

- star gazing as there is no air pollution and it’s amazing how many stars there actually are

- visiting the diamond beach, which sparkles and has you feeling like little kids

- long morning snuggles and random hugs throughout the day

- and he would also be your personal photographer and scream how cute you are

- your honeymoon would also include really random stuff (like the penis museum) like skateboarding in the middle of nowhere (like Walter Mitty - the absolute legend) or hiking because you felt like it

- never a dull moment with your husband that’s for sure

Jongho

Planning: he wanted everything to be perfect so you started pretty early (1 year before)

Location: England

Accommodation: small hotels with cozy interior

Food: pretty normal food, you also tried fish & chips once (and it was nothing special)

Activities:

- would hold your hand during the whole flight

- you started your honeymoon in London which you loved at first sight

- the hotel was really central, so you could walk to a lot of sights

- London by night was magical and you visited many museums which had great artwork and were free

- theater nights and going for a walk along the Thames

- after a week you started to explore the cities around London like Oxford, Brighton and Cambridge

- and everything was so stunning and with Jongho by your side you could literally cry, because does it get much better than this??? (well no)

- Jongho declares his love for you at least once a day and although it was so cheesy it still got you giggling and feeling all mushy inside

- he loves all the old buildings and biscuits, so you would probably visit again sometime

- it’s a really nice and somehow relaxing trip although you get to explore so much

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koala-otter · 4 years

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Hi hun!! I have a prompt!! So, Zuko was born into an obviously conservative family and with all that royal training and everything, he usually speaks with proper grammar and etiquette. Enter: Sokka. Sokka has the most filthy mouth in terms of speaking and anything in general. He can turn a simple conversation about dinner into something that makes Zuko blush unintentionally. I just want to see more flustered!Zuko out here!! Ty!!

hello love! it’s probably not what you expected, it’s definitely not what I expected, but there’s a lot of flustered!Zuko, so here we are

I don’t think it’s nsfw? but it’s also not entirely sfw??

ok here’s Sokka’s got a filthy mouth and a filthy mind and now Zuko does, too almost 2k words

Zuko spent three years of his life traveling the high seas, so he spent a fair amount of time around sailors. As a banished prince, he didn’t necessarily have his pick of the lot when it came to choosing his crew, and very few men on his ship ended up being the upstanding sort typical of the Fire Navy. Instead, the men Zuko lived with during his early teen years were often slippery, prone to debauchery, and crude. They swore frequently, mercilessly, and thoroughly, and after a couple of bottles of soju, could not have been stopped by the sea itself from telling detailed stories of their sexual conquests, the deck of the ship rollicking with tall tales of quivering thighs and heaving breasts left behind at the last port. For a long time Zuko couldn’t understand why he didn’t enjoy these stories, or why all the other men did. Still, despite his uncle’s careful influence, Zuko experienced his fair share of vulgarity on his travels, and largely as a result of the seafaring men surrounding him.

Yet he finds, time and again, that he has never met anyone whose mind or mouth matched Sokka’s.

They are all sitting around the courtyard of the Fire Lord’s house on Ember Island, idly waiting for dinner to finish cooking, when Zuko hears a gasp. He looks up from sharpening his swords in time to find Sokka standing next to Katara at the pot full of their food.

“What the hell are those?” Sokka demands.

“Sea aubergines,” Katara says matter-of-factly, though Zuko hears the annoyed undercurrent of her tone.

Sokka lets out a peal of laughter. “Katara, they look like dicks!”

A governess once struck Zuko for using such a word, and he feels the sting again as he gapes at Sokka’s relaxed form. He almost expects Katara to lash out or yell at her brother, but instead she barely rolls her eyes.

“It was all they had at the market,” she says.

“Aang!” Sokka calls, cupping his mouth with his hands. He waves the airbender over. “You need to see the size of these.”

Aang skips over easily and leans over to look into the pot.

“Don’t they look like a bunch of dicks?” Sokka says, nudging him with his elbow.

Aang immediately bursts into laughter, his hands coming to rest on his stomach. Zuko can only gawk at them and the casual way they react to such language.

“Where’d Toph go?” Sokka asks. “She’d get a kick out of the dicks.”

“You idiot, I’m blind,” Toph says from her position lying on the stairs.

“You can still—” Sokka notes Katara’s glare and the fact that Toph is still a twelve-year-old girl and immediately retreats. “Right, then,” he says, taking the ladle from Katara and scooping up one of the phallic vegetables, “Zuko!”

Zuko lifts his head, the dismay clear on his face.

Sokka waves the sea aubergine in the air maniacally. “Don’t you think it looks like a dick?” he almost shrieks.

Zuko tries not to wince at the word, and instead lies, “I don’t see it.”

“What?” Sokka looks between the vegetable and the stony look on Zuko’s face. “Are you serious? It’s even oozing—”

“Enough,” Zuko says. The island heat seems to have suddenly gathered entirely around his face. “Don’t be disgusting.”

Sokka’s face breaks into a boyish grin. “So, you do see it.” He waves the ladle in the air, the sea aubergine clinging by its tip to the bowl of the spoon.

“No,” Zuko continues denying.

Katara puts her hands on her hips and finally addresses her brother. “Sokka, would you cut it out? We’re going to eat that.”

Sokka ignores her.

“Here, Zuko,” he says casually, holding the ladle handle with both hands for some reason, “maybe you just need a closer look!”

And all of a sudden, a slimy, tan-and-purple, mottled, tubular vegetable is hurtling across the courtyard straight at Zuko. Before he can even think about it, he closes his eyes and catches it right in his hands. Then comes the heat, so high and concentrated from the cooking pot, that his hands immediately pull apart, and the aubergine flops, useless, on the courtyard ground.

Zuko looks up and glares, and for the first time since going back to the Fire Nation, he swears.

“Damn it, Sokka, that’s hot!”

Sokka stops laughing abruptly, and his expression turns mischievous. “I didn’t know you swung that way, Zuko.” A blush erupts across Zuko’s face as he suddenly hears his own poor phrasing. Sokka smirks. “Good to know.”

The blush is still on Zuko’s face when they finally sit down to dinner, and it’s all he can do not to choke at the sight of Sokka’s ruthless grin each time he takes another bite of slimy, limp sea aubergine.

A couple of years after the war ends, Zuko finally lets Sokka drag him on a trip to see Master Piandao. Sokka’s already gone back a couple of times to forge a new sword and for training, but Piandao hasn’t seen Zuko since before his banishment. He politely does not react to Zuko’s scar, and instead scrutinizes the close relationship between the two young men.

“Knowing you when you were younger,” he says in his measured tone to Zuko, “and knowing Sokka,” he continues, turning to look at the younger swordsman, “I wouldn’t have imagined you two being quite so drawn to each other.”

“What do you mean?” Sokka looks up from where he’s flicking Zuko’s arm. He throws his own arm around Zuko’s shoulders and pulls him in close, beaming. “We’re best fucking friends!”

Zuko looks horrified at the blatant lack of refinement in Sokka’s language, and in front of their swordmaster no less, but Piandao remains unperturbed. In fact, if Zuko squints hard enough, it might even look like he’s smiling.

“Well,” Piandao says, picking up his own sword, “let’s get started.”

Their training session does not last long.

The two young men are caught in almost a death grip, their swords biting into each other, and their bodies so close they are practically panting in each other’s faces. Sokka’s managed to disarm Zuko of one of his swords, cast aside on the patio of Piandao’s house, and looks smug even as Zuko pushes against him. Hard.

Zuko, on the other hand, looks enraged. His leg is smarting where Sokka smacked him with the flat edge of his sword, and he has suddenly been made frighteningly aware of the fact that Sokka is now taller than him. He glowers up at Sokka, pressing back against Sokka’s sword with all of his strength, which he worries will not last as long he needs it to because since he last checked, Sokka has gotten broad, and Sokka has gotten strong.

Zuko feels a growing desire to ram his sword through Sokka, and his glower turns to a grin as he considers it. The ramming. And then a thought fills his head of how Sokka would interpret that word, and he’s shocked when he doesn’t hate it, and it makes him even angrier. Sokka’s definitely rubbing off on him. And there he goes again.

“All right, it’s a draw,” Piandao says from his safe distance away.

When neither boy pulls back, he calmly walks over and pulls them apart. They both slump onto the ground, panting like polardogs in heat.

“You’re clearly very well matched,” Piandao says thoughtfully. He waits until both boys have cooled off before he continues speaking. They sit in front of him, waiting for instructions. He nods and gestures for Fat, the butler, to join them. “There’s an orchard on the way to the village full of plum trees.”

Fat hands Zuko and Sokka each a towel.

“Best plums I’ve ever had,” Piandao continues. “Sweet and juicy, and a little sour, too.” He takes the beverage Fat hands him. “And this time of year, the trees are full of them.”

Sokka and Zuko wait as Piandao sips his drink. He hands it back to Fat.

“Go home. And walk through the orchard on your back,” Piandao says, pointing in the general direction. He bows his head slightly at the two swordsmen in front of him. “Training is done for the day. I’ll see you early tomorrow morning.”

Zuko and Sokka look at each other questioningly but scramble to do as they’re told.

Fat stands behind Piandao as they watch the two run off toward the orchard. “Those two,” he says with a shake of his head.

Piandao glances behind himself and then forward at the boys again. A thin smile graces his mouth. “They’ll figure it out,” he says warmly.

In the orchard, Zuko walks resolutely back towards the house they’re staying in, while Sokka takes his time to languorously pick individual plums from the passing trees, biting into each of them with gusto. Juice drips down his lips and chin, even down his neck, and falls from individual fruits down his wrists and muscled forearms. His appetite’s only grown as he’s gotten bigger, and so has his enthusiasm for eating. He makes loud slurping sounds to prove it.

“Stop that, would you? It sounds awful,” Zuko says.

“I can’t help it, they’re so juicy,” Sokka replies, waggling his eyebrows at Zuko. He holds one of his plums out. “Are you sure you don’t want one?”

“I’m sure,” Zuko practically barks.

Sokka shakes his head. “You’re just mad because I tricked you,” he says, referring to the three times he’s managed to pull Zuko in with the promise of a bite of plum, only to rip the fruit away at the last minute.

“I’m not mad about that,” Zuko says angrily.

Sokka raises his eyebrows. “Then what are you mad about?”

Zuko gestures back toward Piandao’s house. “We must have done something wrong if we got kicked out,” he says glumly.

Sokka stares at him. “What? We almost killed each other. In a swordfight, I’d say that was doing it right.” He pulls out one of his plums. “Besides, you heard Master Piandao. We’re well matched.”

Zuko sighs.

Sokka bites into the plum, and his eyes go wide. He holds the fruit out to Zuko.

“Zuko,” he says seriously, “try this one. It’s the best I’ve ever tasted.”

“I don’t know if I trust the guy who goes around eating random plants all the time.”

“Come on,” Sokka almost whines. He shakes the plum a bit in Zuko’s face. “It’ll make you feel better.”

Zuko gives him a hard look. “You’re not going to take it away again?”

“I’m not going to do it again,” Sokka promises, his face genuine. He almost looks caring.

Zuko eyes him suspiciously, but leans toward the plum. The skin is shiny and dark purple, the color of an eggplant, but the flesh inside is a bright and brilliant pink, exposed by the bite from Sokka’s mouth. Juice trickles down the edges of the bite into Sokka’s outstretched hand, and Zuko briefly wonders what it would be like to skip the plum altogether and take Sokka’s fingers into his mouth, to lick the juice off of them.

Zuko swallows and tries to toss the image out of his head, finally leaning toward the fruit. Just as his lips make contact with the plum’s skin, a high-pitched moan erupts from Sokka’s mouth. Zuko pulls his head back immediately to find Sokka grinning widely, and he fixes Sokka with a hot glare.

“You’re disgusting,” Zuko snaps.

Sokka smirks and takes another bite of the plum. “Ah, you love it,” he says, and he continues making those awful slurping sounds all the way back to town.

sorry

#zukka #ask #my writing #zukka fanfic #atla fic #atla fanfic #zuko #sokka

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twdmusicboxmystery · 3 years

Text

Revolution Theme, Part 2: War of 1812

READ PART 1 HERE

Wow! Thanks @wdway! Love all this!

You’re right that that the Crossing of the Delaware painting makes a lot more sense, now. It also made me think of the more recent pilgrim paintings we’ve seen the past few years. I think we can work those in as well. The pilgrims were somewhat revolutionary in their actions. Not so much in a massive war or battle sort of way, but they left England (yes, Britain) to find freedoms their mother country wasn’t willing to give them. Which is revolutionary in its way.

But more to the point, that was the first step that would eventually lead to a war for freedom between Britain and the American colonies. So, you could see them as the precursor to the revolution. So, it makes sense to use that painting for TF and TWD right now, because what’s been happening the last season or 2 is the precursor to the final, big revolution.

When you got into talking about 2 revolutions, that makes tons of sense as well, and I totally agree.

When you talked about the white house and library of congress being burnt in 1812, about six things came to mind, lol.

When Eugene was at the Sanctuary (which I 100% believe foreshadows the final revolution, Beth, and what Eugene’s role will be in it) he played the 1812 Overture when he did the science experiment for Negan’s wives. (Including Amber, who looked like Beth and Tanya, who had a lot of Beth’s dialogue with Eugene). I’ve kind of low-key obsessed over that song and why they used it, but other than foreshadowing a final battle with Eugene as I’ve already said, it was hard to connect anything more specific.

The 1812 Overture was not actually written about the War of 1812. It was written in celebration of Napoleon’s retreat from Russia. Basically, he tried to invade Moscow early in 1812 but failed miserably and eventually had to retreat. Not so much because of being out-fought, but more because of weather, illness, lack of supplies for the army, etc.

Now, that’s not the same thing you mentioned in the British fighting Napoleon before turning their attention to the American colonists, but the link is still there. Napoleon/Russia>1812 Overture>Napolean/Britain>Britain/American Colonies. See what I mean? So, the idea of two wars or a war on two fronts really makes sense.

I’ve been trying to find out if the 1812 Overture has a d.c. al coda in it. I don’t think it does, but I’m having a hard time finding the sheet music online. You can find it, of course, but often it’s blurry or watermarked in such a way that it’s hard to read, and that’s because they want you to buy it to remove the watermark. I’ll keep looking.

But I do know it has a coda. Maybe not a d.c. al coda, but a coda of some kind. In fact, while I’m still not sure until I can clearly see the sheet music, from what I’ve read others saying, the final, super-loud, exuberant part of the song that’s often used in U.S. Independence Day celebrations IS the coda. And it represents Russia winning the war over Napoleon. Coincidence?

So, Napoleon fought many wars on many fronts. There’s that. But as you said, the British first fought Napoleon (perhaps that will be the Commonwealth) and then turned to the American colonists. And given what was said in 5x09 about a rebel group fighting against the “republic” using what amounts to guerilla tactics, that does line up with how the American colonists fought the British during the revolution. So clearly that’s the one that will involve Beth and TF (though of course they will probably be involved, at least to some extent, in the Commonwealth bit as well).

Also, also. You talked about the LIBRARY of congress being burned. I’m not sure how, but suddenly I feel sure all the books and librarian stuff must be connected to this. To the revolution theme. I still remember watching the beginning of 6x16 and thinking it was SO significant, but I had no idea why. It’s where we see Carl lock Enid in the closet to keep her safe, and she’s yelling at him things like, “what if you don’t come back?” And he tells her, “just survive somehow.”

Meanwhile, that scene is intercut with Negan’s guys chasing the librarian they end up hanging over the bridge with an X spray painted on his chest. And then he gets…burned?

I remember thinking that just FELT like a big war that was coming, but back then, I really didn’t know how to interpret it. Of course, AOW started soon after, but the librarian group wasn’t a big part of that. If we’re honest, they really were just random side characters, which was odd because that sequence FELT so important. So, I’m betting we ought to be connecting them to this as well.

The Native American Symbols

For the record, a couple of things I’ve been trying to look into and haven’t found much (mostly because I haven’t had much time to do so yet) include what role Native American tribes played in the American revolution. Some were loyal to the British, others to colonists. As I said, I need to do more research, but little tidbits like this one are interesting:

“Their biggest contribution was as spies going to Canada and returning with news of the English plans, and attacking English coastal shipping. The Indians played a leading role in preventing an English attack on Machias by sea from being successful. “

(AL’s voice coming out of the radio in 5x09: “At least 68 citizens of the Republic have been killed in four deadly attacks along the main coastal district. The group has continued their campaign of random violence, moving across the countryside unfettered, with the Republic’s military forces in disarray.” Just saying.)

The other thing I’ve looked into is Francis Marion’s (Swamp Fox’s) connection to Native Americans of the time. During the revolution itself, I’m not finding much. But we do know that he learned a lot of his battle prowess from fighting the Cherokee Indians as a young man.

What he learned there is what made him so effective against the British. So, I’m wondering if that will translate with Beth in that she’ll fight the CRM or perhaps even in battles with the Commonwealth early on and that will give her what she needs to triumph much later in bigger battles. Or maybe they’ll connect it even earlier back to early battles with TF and what Daryl taught her. The possibilities are endless. ;D

@wdway:

If you do a search, it's quite fascinating and well worth the time to do two searches. One on the burning of the White House and then the other one on Andrew Jackson and the Battle of New Orleans.

There are things that I just did not go into like the connection with Napoleon that we've seen hints of in the past couple of seasons and didn't know why. The Cherokee Rose, which has been a symbol for so long and I do not think it was their intention in the beginning but what most people do not understand is that the Cherokee Rose has a strong connection to Andrew Jackson.

Andrew Jackson had a singular focus on driving the Native Americans (mostly the Cherokee Nation) to the West. Lightbulb moment here, but maybe that might be same of the meaning of Indian symbolism.

Jackson had a major part in the Trail of Tears, which is basically the story that Daryl tells Carol after walker Sophia was discovered. Jackson was a brilliant military soldier, but he was not known as a compassionate person. His nickname was Old Hickory (a tree reference) because the hickory tree's wood is known for its hardness.

A few years back, tptb did a promotion showing nuts that had a hard outer shell. People didn't understand what that was, but I knew because it was a hickory nut. A very hard outer shell and then inside is the actual nut. Hickory wood was the favored source for making baseball bats back in the day because they would not easily break.

The other interesting fact about Andrew Jackson was his love for his wife, Rachel. It was a legendary love. He might have been an asshole to the entire world, but Rachel was the love of his life. When she died, he did not simply bury her. He entombed her in her own little Mausoleum at his home, The Hermitage, just outside of Nashville.

Jackson fought both in the Revolutionary War and the 1812 war, in the Battle of New Orleans. He apparently had been imprisoned by the British for a time during the Revolutionary War, which fired his hatred for them.

Am I the only one thinking about the connections between him and Negan? I'm thinking of the two wars, the Commonwealth and the war against the CRM. I want to think that the Commonwealth conflict is represented by the War of 1812. The larger, more overall important conflict with a CRM will be the American Revolutionary War, with Rick replacing Washington as the leader.

I was freaking out when you mentioned the Overture of 1812. I don't care if it was written for the war led by Napoleon with Russia. If anything, that makes it even as stronger clue that we're on the right track because of the Russian satellite and Russian dictionary that little Judith got from (wait for it) the library, for Eugene.

One other thing, @twdmusicboxmystery. I thought about this earlier today when I was reading about the 1812 Overture, but I wanted to do a check before I mentioned it to you.

Two very famous pieces of music came out of the 1812 wars. The 1812 Overture about Napoleon and Russia, and The Star-Spangled Banner, our U.S. national anthem written by Francis Scott Key about The Battle of Fort Henry. Both Fort Henry and The Battle of New Orleans were fought in 1814 but were known as being part of the War of 1812.

Can’t wait to see how it all plays out.

Definitely very interesting! Thanks for all this research @wdway!

#beth greene #beth greene lives #beth is alive #beth is coming #td theory #td theories #team delusional #team defiance #beth is almost here #bethy

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willowdove · 3 years

Text

Eyes Like Fire: A Soulmate AU

A couple months passed by. The green in Katara’s eyes started to morph into a rich yellow-gold. Kya found herself lost in them as she bounced Katara in her lap. Perhaps it was temporary. Maybe they would shift again, into a brown, maybe. Brown eyes, at least, were potential allies. Golden eyes, though- golden eyes were dangerous.

Since there’s been some interest in this I’ve decided to post an update. My work pace is slower than a snail- BUT I haven’t abandoned this WIP by any means. This is not all of the work I have so far (please note that there are chapters in between that are missing) but it is what I’m happy with. I’ve included the first couple chapters again because they’ve been slightly reworked. Hopefully it’s not too much to put it all in one place here.

PROLOGUE

“Her eyes are darkening,” said Kya, watching her two children play nearby. The eldest, Sokka, rolled a ball towards his sister Katara. She scooted excitedly to grab it in her chubby little fist, then spastically hurled it at the ground between them. She giggled with delight when this made Sokka toddle after it.

Kya’s husband Hakoda squeezed her shoulders and kissed her on the forehead. “Sokka’s eyes changed about this time too,” he remarked. When Sokka was born, he had possessed the crystal blue eyes of any Water Tribesmen. But before he was a year old, they had lightened to a pale green. Hakoda claimed this meant Sokka was destined to be an adventurer. He would have to leave home if he wanted to find the person those eyes belonged to.

Katara’s eyes were changing too, but they weren’t getting paler. Green was blazing up from underneath the blue, vibrant and consuming. Green definitely would point to an Earth Kingdom origin. “Maybe they’ll go on their adventure together,” Kya suggested.

Hakoda chuckled. “They certainly do seem to get along,” he said.

***

She must have been staring a little too intently, because Sokka seemed to pick up on her concern. “Katara eyes pretty,” he declared. He clambered up Kya’s knee to sit with his sister and hugged her tightly. Katara popped her thumb out of her mouth to hug him back, babbling happily.

Kya forced herself to smile, kissing them both on the head. “Yes,” she agreed. He was right, they were pretty. But that didn’t stop a dark ache from tugging deep at the center of her being.

***

Kya was preparing sea prune stew for the family when her daughter asked the question. “Mommy, why does everybody look at me funny?” she said. The spoon in Kya’s hand clattered into the pot as she quickly turned.

“Who said people were looking at you funny?” she demanded, bristling.

Katara seemed to shrink in the fur lining of her dress collar. She looked down at her feet, mumbling, “Nobody said. I just see them do it. You look at me funny too, sometimes.”

The air went out of Kya and guilt pricked at her like a barb. She knelt slowly, taking her daughter’s face in her hands. Katara resisted the gentle tug at first, but quickly gave in and met her mother’s gaze with wide, golden eyes. A stranger’s eyes. “I’m sorry, baby. We’re just… worried about you.”

“Is something wrong with me?” Katara asked, tears welling up on her thick lashes.

“Oh, sweetie, no,” she shushed, giving Katara a tight hug before holding her out by the shoulders. She struggled to put together the words she needed. “…Has anyone told you what a soulmate is?”

Katara sniffled loudly, but managed to contain her tears. “Gran-Gran said it was someone special who will love me forever and ever.”

A thankful smile quirked at the corners of Kya’s mouth as she nodded. “Do you know that until you kiss your soulmate, you’ll have each other’s eyes?”

Katara’s brows furrowed in confusion for a second before she gave a little shriek, pressing her fingers into the top of her cheeks just under her lower eyelids. “These aren’t my eyes?” she asked, horrified.

Kya had to laugh a little at the unexpected outburst. “No, those are your soulmate’s eyes,” she reiterated.

“Why?!” Katara demanded.

“Well, it’s to help us to find each other, I expect,” she explained.

Katara considered that for a long moment. She walked over to her mother’s bed furs and pulled out the mirror. Her fingertips brushed lightly over the metal as she peered studiously at her reflection. “My soulmate… isn’t from here, is he?”

“No,” Kya answered softly.

“Are people worried I will have to go really far away?” she asked.

Kya followed and kissed her daughter’s forehead fiercely, trying to blink away the tears that were welling in her own eyes before Katara could see them. “They’re worried… you’ll have to go to the Fire Nation,” she replied.

“Oh,” Katara said, “Well, I won’t then. I’ll just tell everybody I’m not gonna go.”

The ache in Kya’s chest was so great that she could barely breathe. “Ok, baby,” she agreed, “I’ll try not to worry so much anymore.”

***

CHAPTER 1: THE SOUTH POLE

When the black snow began to fall, Katara felt her heart seize. The last time she had seen such snow fall was the first day Katara ever saw eyes like hers. It was also the last day she ever saw her mother.

She ran to the middle of the village, to stand with her brother. He was the only man left in the tribe, and she was the only waterbender. They were only two, and untrained, but it didn’t matter. They were all that stood between their people and the enemy.

The Fire Nation steamer that had carved through the icy harbor to their port was small compared to others that had come before, and alone. Still, it was formidable looming over the tattered remains of their village. Its stern detached with a metallic hiss, then slowly lowered to form a ramp. Sokka tensed beside her, his club raised. A figure in red metal plate began to descend the ramp.

Sokka gave a yell and charged forward as Katara started to gather water into her palms, but inexplicably he stopped midway up the ramp, casting a look of fear and confusion over his shoulder towards her. The armored stranger stopped in front of Sokka. Both boys were about matched in height, but the stranger’s position on the ramp allowed him tower over her brother. Sokka pressed his club into the center of the boy’s chest, muttering a low warning. The stranger growled something in return and pushed past him roughly, nearly knocking Sokka off the side of the ramp in the process.

Once he got closer, Katara had to stifle a gasp.

His eyes were as blue as the heart of a glacier. Water Tribe blue.

She stumbled backward, reeling, reflexively bringing her hand up to shield her own eyes. He hadn’t looked at her directly yet. He hadn’t seen.

“Where is the Avatar?” the stranger demanded. The villagers in the square shifted uneasily. Many of them were casting worried glances between him and Katara. She pulled the hood of her parka close to the side of her face.

The stranger reached into the small gathered crowd to grasp her Gran-Gran’s wrist. “They’d be about this age-“ he started to say. Panic and fury spiked hot in the pit of Katara’s stomach, and she forgot herself. The ice beneath the stranger’s feet lurched upward like a living thing; twin maws swallowed his feet whole.

He looked at her then. Her hood had fallen away and a few strands of hair had come loose from her hair loops. She was panting with exertion, the air in front of her fogging like smoke from a dragon’s mouth. Their gazes locked, and her eyes were like fire.

The stranger’s brow furrowed. He had since dropped Gran-Gran’s wrist, and he brought the now free hand to his good cheek, as if he could feel the color of his eyes through the pads of his fingers. His other cheek was marred, a thick red scar beginning there, traveling over his left eye and ending just above where an eyebrow should have been. As she studied him, steam started to issue from the ice encasing his feet and rivulets ran down the sides as it melted.

“Who are you?” Katara asked.

The stranger frowned harder, his gaze dropping to the snow between them. His jaw ticked, but as it did, something in his demeanor seemed to fall away. When he looked back up at her, it was with such unguarded, raw hope that it took her aback.

“I’m Prince Zuko,” he answered, finally. “Will you help me find the Avatar?”

She was so startled by his vulnerability that she almost let it sway her. A part of her was drawn into the depths of his too familiar blue eyes. But he was Fire Nation, and she was Water Tribe.

So she said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Nobody’s seen the Avatar in over 100 years.”

It was as the surface of his open soul froze over, suddenly, so that it hissed and popped and cracked. His face twisted into hard, angry lines, and fire burst from his clenched fists.

“I know you’re hiding him. I saw the light!” he insisted.

Katara took a wary step back, reaching for the snow on the ground and trying to pull it into her grasp. It shifted, turning to slush, but it did not flow up to meet her. She tried desperately not to let her panic show. More Fire Nation soldiers were descending the ramp, hands ablaze and ready. There were too many. She had shared a grim look with Sokka, who reached behind his back for his boomerang.

And from out of nowhere, a powerful gust of wind guttered out all the flames. The Airbender had returned, and he landed himself protectively in front of her.

The stranger- Zuko’s fighting stance faltered. “You’re the airbender? You’re the Avatar?” he asked with disbelief. “But you’re just a child!”

Aang tilted his head to the side. “Well, you’re just a teenager,” he pointed out.

Zuko shook his head once, and then with a surging roar punched a fireball at Aang. Aang spun his staff to disperse it. The prince let loose a couple more fireballs, one high and one low, before launching into a torrent of blows. Aang was able to dodge and deflect all of them, but Zuko’s soldiers started to draw in from his sides, and the villagers behind him started to press together in fear.

“Wait!” Aang said. Zuko paused midform, his arms still flexed and ready. Aang held his glider out to his side, his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “If I go with you, will you promise to leave everyone alone?” Aang asked.

Zuko looked over the villagers again as if he had forgotten they were there. Straightening, he nodded.

“Aang, no! Don’t do this!” Katara cried, rushing forward. Zuko gestured wordlessly to his men with a jerk of his chin. The soldiers encircled the Avatar, taking away his staff and roughly grabbing him to restrain him. Zuko stepped around them in order to block Katara’s path to the boy.

“You can come with him,” he offered, almost quietly. With me, he implied, unspoken. His too blue eyes pierced into her, confusing her, beckoning her. She had a kinship with those eyes. They looked like… they looked like her mother’s.

“You should leave him here,” she countered. A blaze of indignation was starting in her chest and clawing its way up her throat.

“I’ll be okay, Katara,” Aang assured her. The soldiers started dragging him up the ramp to the ship. “Take care of Appa for me while I’m gone!”

Zuko held Katara’s eyes for another moment before he ripped himself away. Her heart guttered with an inexplicable feeling of loss. “Head a course for the Fire Nation,” Zuko called to his helmsman, “I’m going home.”

***

After Zuko finished doing the rounds to make sure his ship was in order, he retreated into his private cabin. After three years of hard, fruitless searching, they were finally underway towards his true destination. He was supposed to be feeling triumphant. He was supposed to be feeling relief. He had accomplished an impossible task after all.

But he didn’t feel that way. Nervousness eddied around him like the tide washing over a rocky shore. He felt unbalanced. How would his father react when he brought the Avatar home? What if something went wrong along the way? What would be the young boy’s fate once he was taken from Zuko’s hands?

That last thought disturbed him most of all. He leapt from his seat on the bed and began pacing, trying to force his mind to quiet. Instinctively he reached out to the torches along his wall, connecting their energy to his breath. In, and out. Ebb, and flow. Rise, and fall.

Panic crashed over him when he heard one of his soldiers call out, “The Avatar has escaped!”

Zuko began to rush for the door when he spotted the boy’s staff sitting in the corner of his room; he’d had that delivered to his quarters for safe-keeping. The boy had used to fly into their first encounter. There was a good chance he would come back for it, if not out of nostalgia, then out of necessity. Zuko could use it as bait. He hid himself behind the door and waited.

The Avatar child flew into the room without even looking. It should have been easy to trap him; Zuko immediately shut the door after him. But somehow the young boy had deflected all his attacks and wrapped him in a tapestry. Zuko had to chase him up through the control room to the main deck, and only just barely managed to catch him by the ankle before he flew off. He moved to pin his opponent, with a fiery hand raised in warning, but he was interrupted by a loud, guttural lowing.

Zuko and the Avatar both looked up. “What is that?” Zuko asked in shock.

“Appa!” the Avatar cheered. Two of the Water Tribesman were mounted on a giant, floating, furry… thing. One was the boy who tried to rush him. The other was his water-bender girl.

But Zuko wasn’t one to lose focus for very long. The Avatar had shimmied his ankle out of Zuko’s hold and was moving to get up. Zuko kept the newcomers in his peripheral as he blasted incapacitating shots at the Avatar. The boy was able to deflect most of them, but the force of the last one sent the Avatar tumbling over the edge of the ship. He hit his head on the way down.

The Water Tribe girl screamed. Adrenaline surged in Zuko, who immediately began shucking off his armor in preparation to dive in after the boy. He had tossed his shoulder guard aside and was reaching for the clasp on his breast-plate when a strange white glow came from the water.

A raging waterspout surged forth to tower over the ship, the Avatar at its top. His narrowed eyes and tattoos were glowing with white light, and his face was crossed with a severe frown. He was different than he had been before. More powerful. Angry. The icy cold spray from the waterspout bit into Zuko’s skin. He took a step back.

With a wide circle of his arms the Avatar flowed down to the deck, bringing the water with him in a great protective sphere. Gathering his determination, Zuko made to advance, but a torrent of water was sent blasting into his chest and he was thrust backwards. His back hit the rail and suddenly he himself was spinning towards the Arctic water below.

His outstretched hand banged against a protruding metal bar. The service ladder. He forced himself not to flinch away so he could catch the next one down. Pain exploded in his shoulder as his fall was yanked to a stop, but he managed to haul himself into the curve of the ship, planting his feet on the ladder.

On the deck he heard the water slosh to the ground and a soft thud. The Water Tribesman jumped aboard, calling out to the Avatar in concern. Zuko gritted his teeth and climbed.

His waterbender appeared at the rail above him just before he was able to pull himself over. He thought he saw relief flash in her eyes, but that emotion was quickly followed with concern and fear.

If it was anyone else he would have yelled at her to move. Instead he simply requested, quietly, “Get out of my way.”

Her eyebrows creased. “No,” she said. They looked at each other. Zuko reached across the rail and shoved her to the side.

She stumbled and he hauled himself onto the deck of the ship, now slick with ice from the Avatar’s water attacks. Zuko turned to face the direction where he’d heard the Avatar fall. The Water Tribesman was helping him fend off attacks from Zuko’s soldiers.

“No!” his water bender repeated, planting her feet. She siphoned ice from the deck to form globules of water that she suspended from her hands.

Zuko growled at her in frustration. “This isn’t your fight, peasant!” he snapped, gesticulating. Why did she keep trying to stop him? “Get out of my way!”

She scoffed with clear distaste, saying, “My name is Katara!”

He found himself committing that to memory. Katara. Katara.

The Avatar and the Water Tribesman were able to retreat onto the giant fluffy monster. They flew around the nose of the ship to Zuko’s side of the deck. The Water Tribesman reached out his arm to scoop the water bender into the saddle.

There was an odd look of regret on her face as she swung out of his reach.

The fluffy thing was getting away fast. “Shoot them down!” Zuko ordered frantically. His soldiers coordinated together to launch a huge fireball after the fluffy beast. As it arced through the air Zuko’s heart went into his mouth. It needed to hit them. But it couldn’t hit them. He didn’t want to hurt them, not really, he-

At the last second the Avatar gusted it off trajectory, right into a cliff above the port-side bow. Zuko barely has time to jump back out of the way before snow and ice came crashing down in an avalanche onto the deck.

***

CHAPTER 2: KYOSHI ISLAND

Something compelled Zuko to look over the rock.

Katara hoped faintly that it hadn’t been the force of her eyes on him. She and Aang had been smashed against the shore by the Unagi’s wake, beneath a large outcropping of rock. Unfortunately the prince’s ship had landed just to the other side. And he was headed this way, flanked by more komodo-rhino riders.

“Katara!” Zuko called. Lightning shocked through her stomach at hearing him say her name. She tamped it down, frantically shaking Aang’s shoulder to rouse him from unconsciousness. The boy gave no sign of waking. His head lolled to the side. Katara‘s gaze flicked around with growing panic, finding only sand and rock and surf, before lighting back on Aang. She started digging through his pockets.

“Surrender the Avatar!” Zuko demanded, his rhino just stepping around the rock. The sun glinted off the tips of his metal helmet as his soldiers filled in around him. Cloth, cold metal discs, slippery round marbles, fluffy lint... Katara‘s fingers closed over something smooth and wooden. “Step away from him!” Zuko demanded again.

Katara gathered Aang’s unconscious body up in her arms, awkwardly heaving his arm over her left shoulder so that she could balance his head against her cheek. With her right hand, she brought the bison whistle to her lips, and she started backing up into the sea.

Zuko let out a sharp breath. He tapped his heel into the side of his Komodo-rhino and it trotted dutifully into the rocky surf, its great feet kicking up big arcs of water. “Get back!” Zuko insisted, “You have nowhere to run!”

The rocks were uneven underfoot, but Katara refused to turn around. She strained her senses to map the terrain behind her, where the water flowed and caught and eddied. She took another careful step backwards, and another, wincing as her ankle turned just the slightest bit. The water was up to her knees now.

The other rhino riders hovered uncertainly at the edge of the beach. One called, “Permission to engage, Prince Zuko?”

The prince’s eyes were locked with Katara’s. “No! Stay back!” he said quickly. Then, his right hand opening to produce a small font of flame, he added, “Hold your position. I’ll capture the Avatar myself.”

Katara stumbled backwards further over the slippery rocks. The water was lapping at her waist. ”Not today you won’t!” she denied hotly.

“You can’t swim with him like that. Surrender,” Zuko pressed, advancing.

The adrenaline burning her veins was drying out her mouth. She was out of options. She was cornered. She was going to do something incredibly, phenomanally stupid. “I don’t need to swim,” she said, half as affirmation, half as prayer. She tucked her knees, sinking her and Aang both in up to their necks, and pushed.

To her hysterical relief and dread the water flung itself away from her outstretched hand in a forceful jet, just as it had earlier, propelling them backwards towards the center of the lake. Zuko swore, calling for his men to fetch the boats. He dismounted and started shucking his armor.

She stretched and stretched her senses, deep into the water until the reaching wisps of her concentration felt taught enough to snap. Fish wriggled thinly through the net she had cast, and seaweed brushed against it in a whisper. The Unagi was so deep it was almost out of her reach, undulating far below them in the water column, a vast yet smooth obstruction to its flow. Katara sensed it’s head turn to track their movement. It’s great muscled coils tightened beneath it in preparation to launch upwards. The edges of a scream started licking up the inside of her throat. She was going to have to dodge, somehow. At the shore, Zuko was running into the surf. He stumbled. And suddenly, inexplicably, the Unagi’s great head turned towards him instead.

A bellowing roar signaled the arrival of Appa. He landed in the water with a huge splash, and Katara heaved Aang onto the bison’s leg so she could clamber up into the saddle. Sensing urgency, Appa flicked his tail to launch himself from the water as soon as both passengers were aboard, still balancing Aang on his leg. As they climbed, Katata reached down to pull Aang up the rest of the way.

“Back to the village Appa!” she urged the bison, “We have to go get Sokka!”

***

Zuko roared in frustration, slapping the water as the Avatar was carried away on his bison. He had been so close! If his soulmate hadn’t insisted on getting in the way...

It was just his luck. A Water Tribe girl, of course. A stubborn, meddlesome, distracting girl for a weak, honorless, useless prince. Was it too much to ask that she was at least a supporter of the Fire Nation? Zuko had always assumed it would be someone from the colonies- with Water Tribe heritage surely, but a Fire Nation citizen nonetheless. Someone loyal, and helpful, and kind...

Well, it didn’t do to dwell on that now.

“Riders!” he called. They snapped to attention. “You’re letting him get away! Follow that bison!”

Zuko hobbled to shore, blood trailing from a cut in his heel that he had sustained on the uneven rocks below the water. Ignoring how each step ground more sand into his wound, he and threw his armor into a carry sack on his own mount before climbing on, figuring he wouldn’t bother with putting it on again. It would take too long, and besides, it kept getting in the way.

When the riders reached the village, they were met with a wall of female warriors, dressed proudly in green armored dress.

“Halt!” called the one in the center. Her pale amber eyes glinted with mistrust. “Foreign combatants are not permitted on Kyoshi soil. This is neutral ground!”

“I demand to be let through!” Zuko responded with fury. Taking a breath, he ground out, “You are in defiance of the Fire Nation.”

The warriors took a ready stance, their golden fans sharp and gleaming in the sunlight. Their leader continued, “We do not want to violate our peace with the Fire Nation. Dismount and remove your helms, and I will take you to our governor for negotiations.”

Zuko’s scowl deepened. “We don’t have time to talk. You’re in my way. Bring me the Avatar before his bison leaves, or I’ll go through you.”

“The Avatar is our guest,” the warrior hissed.

“Then you’re on his side!” Zuko replied, ordering, “Riders, engage! Break the line!”

Fire surged forth, and the warriors burst into motion. More seemed to pour in from above and the sides, dashing up the long torsos of the rhinos and vaulting over them to strike at their riders. The leader zeroed in on Zuko, slashing at his legs in the saddle. Zuko yanked the reigns to the side, his rhino dodging beneath him as he punched retaliatory fire at his attacker. She followed, making a dash at the komodo-rhino’s side. Zuko angled his foot so he could flick flames from the toe of his boot, unbalancing her approach, and in the same motion dug in his heel to urge the komodo rhino forward. It surged beneath him. But even as he streaked past the Kyoshi guards, a sky bison rose into the air.

He had lost.

***

CHAPTER: THE NORTH POLE

“Are we there yet?” Sokka complained loudly, shaking Katara out of her reverie. They had not seen the Fire Nation Prince for several weeks now. The memory of his face was haunting her. The dark, severe eyebrow, the gaunt, angular cheekbones, the red, leathery scar, and the too blue eyes. She wondered if he was searching the sky for them right now. A shiver ran down her spine at the thought, though whether it was a pleasant or unnerved shiver it was hard to say.

“We’re getting close!” Aang replied cheerily to her brother. “We should be able to see the walls soon.”

Suddenly, they were jolted off balance as Appa careened to the right. Then Katara saw a battering ram of ice launch towards them from the sea on her side.

“Incoming!” she screamed, scrambling back to her spot so she could grab tightly onto the saddle.

Bombarded with icy projectiles, Appa was gradually forced lower and lower until he was snagged by the foot and slammed into the water. The wave that formed from his hapless impact was frozen around his body, encasing him in place. He roared in frustration, the sound reverberating through Katara’s body, and thrashed against his imprisonment. Ships appeared around the icebergs on all sides, carrying waterbenders that hurriedly refreshed the cracks in the ice that Appa was making.

“I thought they’d be friendlier,” Aang said before hailing them. “Hey! We’re here to find a waterbending teacher!”

One of the boats approached closer, headed by a severe old man with a thin mustache and pointed goatee. “Show yourselves, intruders!” he demanded.

Katara and Sokka stood up in the saddle by Aang, raising their arms.

“It’s just me and my sister, Katara,” Sokka said slowly. “We’re with Aang.”

He looked searchingly past them for a moment before accepting that they were the only ones on the flying bison. “I see. I assume not all of you require a teacher?” the old man asked. He looked dubiously at Aang, taking in his pale skin, grey eyes, and bright autumnal attire.

“Well…” Aang began, trailing off as Sokka cleared his throat.

“Aang is the Avatar. My sister is the last remaining waterbender in the Southern Water Tribe. I am not a bender- I came to protect them on their journey.”

The other benders on the boat behind him exchanged an incredulous glance, but the old man appeared unruffled. “And you are?”

“Sokka, son of Hakoda.”

At this he did seem surprised, his eyebrows raising just a fraction of an inch. “The Avatar AND the Chief’s children. Of course. You can verify this?”

The question silenced Sokka, who looked at once alarmed and perplexed. Katara reached tentatively for her necklace. Aang shrugged, then jumped off of Appa’s back towards the man-made ice sheet that extended a couple feet all around his bison. In the span of an instant the old man dropped low, and as he came up, an ice spear flew forward from the water in the direction of his thrusting arm. Wide-eyed, Aang produced a gust of air to propel himself backward. The ice spear stopped just short of where he would have landed.

“I was only getting down to show you my airbending,” Aang protested, clearly a little shaken.

The old man retracted the ice spear, straightening. “We don’t have many… pleasant visits here. I have to assume that you’re attacking when you move that suddenly. Next time, give some warning. In any case…” he signaled to his crew members and to the boats around him. “Chief Arnook will want to deal with this matter personally. I will escort you." He brought his arms together in front of his face, hands clenched into fists above his head and, exhaling, released them so his palms were open towards the ground in front of his hips. With that release, the ice around Appa melted and crashed back into the sea.

Katara tried to file away how he moved, and watched enraptured by the easy way the waterbenders propelled their craft through the sea. The bending that had been displayed to apprehend them was more powerful than she had ever dreamed it could be. Once they reached the city she would finally be able to find a teacher. She eagerly searched the horizon for a sign of the gate. When it finally appeared out of the maze of ice, it took her breath away.

The structure was absolutely immense, carved into a towering glacier at least 500 feet high. Even with the aid of master waterbenders, the construction of this glittering behemoth must have been a massive undertaking. And everything in the city beyond those gates had to be cut from the heart of the glacier itself. Beholding it filled Katara at once filled with profound awe and profound loss. THIS was what it meant to be Water Tribe.

They were waterbended into the city through a series of several draining lock chambers which emptied into a series of canals. Inside was a glittering expanse of buildings that stretched so far it took Katara’s breath away all over again. She watched with wonder as Appa floated them down current.

***

Sokka had studied scrolls on the history and architecture of both the Southern and Northern Water Tribes, so he had had a fairly good idea what to expect when they passed through the gates. Still, seeing the grandiose, glistening city in person was moving. He had to admire the sheer craftsmanship of it all, particularly in the detail work. It was while he was considering ways to replicate the building of a small tower they had passed that he saw her.

The most beautiful girl that he had ever seen was riding in the back of a small rowboat, being guided along the canals by the smooth motions of a waterbender. She had a rounded face and full lips which were quirked into a serene smile. Her shockingly white hair was coiled in sections, one high atop her head and two in plaits that hung almost to her waist. There was a regal bearing about her- her back was straight, her shoulders squared, her chin held high. The most entrancing thing about her, though, was her wide, black eyes.

Sokka had to shake himself out of a daze as they were finally brought before Chief Arnook.

The throne room was just as vast and dazzling as everything else in the city. At its center sat the Chief upon a stark white, tall, crystalline throne draped in blue furs. The Chief had a wide, open face and a strong square jaw. His posture was entirely neutral as they were herded before him, his gaze appraising. “I hear we have distinguished visitors,” he said by way of greeting, “The Avatar. Sokka and Katara, children of Chief Hakoda.”

“Uh, yes, that would be us-” Sokka confirmed as Aang zipped forward, holding out his hand enthusiastically for Chief Arnook to shake.

“My name’s Aang. Super nice to meet you. Do you think you could help us find a water bending teacher?”

The Chief seemed a little taken aback by Aang’s brashness, but he took his hand nonetheless, a smile stretching across his face. “Indeed. I will be happy to arrange adequate accommodations and tutelage for your group. In fact, Pakku,” he addressed their escort, “As you are our best instructor, I will charge you with the Avatar’s instruction.”

“Yes, Chief,” he replied.

“Katara, you will report to Yugoda in the morning. She will be notified that she has an honored guest joining her female class.”

#eyes like fire au #zutara #atla #katara #zuko #Avatar The Last Airbender #update #soulmate au

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aspoonofsugar · 4 years

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I was happy to discover you are in ATLA fandom too. Could you please share your thoughts on Azula? I like your analyses

Hello anon!

Thank you very much for the nice words and for this ask! I love Azula!

I think Azula’s character explores the idea of control:

In The Avatar State, she is shown training to master “lightening”. There, it is shown how losing control of even a small detail, like a lock of hair, is enough to make Azula angry.

It is not by chance that such a scene occurs in an episode focused on the Avatar State. As a matter of fact the Avatar State and the lightening can (partially) be compared when it comes to Aang and Zuko’s stories in book two. This book opens up with Aang trying to enter the Avatar State and with the lightening being introduced thanks to Azula’s character. What is more, both Aang and Zuko try to get a hold of the two different techniques throughout the season. Finally, both skills need for the user to “let go” of their feelings.

In particular, when it comes to the lightening, there are two different ways to interpret this:

Iroh: There is energy all around us. The energy is both Ying and Yang. Positive energy and negative energy. Only a select few firebenders can separate these energies. This creates an imbalance. The energy wants to restore balance and, in the moment the positive and negative energy come pressing back together, you provide release and guidance...creating lightening. (...) Remember, once you separate the energy you do not command it. You are simply its humble guide.”

Iroh: “Lightening is a pure expression of fire-bending without aggression. It is not fueled by rage or emotion the way other firebending is. Some call lightening the cold blooded fire. It is precise precise and deadly, like Azula. To perform the technique requires peace of mind.”

On one hand Iroh’s description is interesting because it is as if creating lightening is a process of synthesis. You separate opposites and have them come back together, so that they can gain a new form. So it makes sense that, thematically, this new synthesis can happen only if the character overcomes their inner turmoil. This is also why Zuko is not able to learn the skill:

Iroh: “You will not be able to master lightening until you have dealt with the turmoil inside you.”

Zuko: “What turmoil!?”

Iroh: “Zuko, you must let go of your feelings of shame if you want your anger to go away.”

In order to acquire it, he should let go of his shame, but he can’t do it. The fact that “shame” is what stops Zuko from making progress is interesting. As explained by Guru Pathick, thus, the fire chakra is the chakra of will and it is polluted by shame.

On the other hand the lightening is called cold-blooded firebending because it can be realized only by benders whose emotions are kept in check. I would argue that this is the reason why Azula is able to use this skill. It is not that she has reached a level of emotional maturity which lets her become a “humble guide” to the energy. It is just that she constantly represses her feelings. This repression gives the idea that she is in perfect control, but this impression is a superficial one and it is proven wrong towards the end of the story.

In short, Zuko is not able to use lightening because of his explosive emotions, while Azula is able to because she restricts her feelings. Let’s highlight that this difference between the two siblings comes up again in a key episode aka The Beach:

Once again Zuko’s emotions are in full display. He is angry and nervous. He might not know why, but he is. Moreover he is finally able to express himself thanks to a confrontation with the other members of the group. Finally he does so while a giant fire erupts to highlight the catharsis of the moment. When it comes to Azula, she too opens up a little. In particular, she lets this slip:

Azula: I don't have sob stories like all of you. I could sit here and complain how our mom like Zuko more than me. But I don't really care. My own mother... thought I was a monster... She was right of course, but it still hurt.

Azula thinks that Ursa saw her as a monster. It is clear that the unsolved issues with her mother have left a sign on her. However, when she has the chance to truly let it all out, she does not. She changes the tone of the conversation and immediately leaves the topic. However, this does not mean that she is not troubled. If anything, her emotions keep burning behind a cold exterior, exactly like the fire, which burns under the ashes. Almost invisible, but still there.

About this, let’s consider two things.

1) In The Beach episode, Azula does something similar here:

Azula: “Come down to the beach with me. Come on! This place is depressing.”

Zuko starts talking about their past and their family, but Azula does not engage in the conversation and tells him to leave.

2) When Azula opens up, the others do not challenge her. They do not ask her what she meant nor they try to contradict what she said. This is different from what they have just done with each other. All in all, Zuko openly provokes Ty Lee and Ty Lee, Zuko and Azula all provoke May, until she shouts. Finally, all the girls keep asking Zuko who he is really angry with, until he is finally able to answer.

These two considerations can be linked to more general ideas.

a) Azula is a person who needs to always be in control. This has two consequences. The first is that she never lets herself be vulnerable. She is always on guard and closed up to others. The second is that she is like a fish out of water when there is nothing to control.

This is made clear in the episode The Beach:

Zuko: “Doing nothing is a waste of time. We are being sent a way in a force vacation. I feel like a child.”

In this episode, Azula and the others are given a break. However, Azula, just like Zuko, is not really able to take a break.

She is on an island and should relax, but the only way she manages to do so is by finding new enemies:

She must continually challenge herself and must change everything in a competition (and win it) in order not to face how empty she feels. This is why, in the end, her solution to the insecurities the beach re-awakens in her is to trash a party. She can’t fit in a group of pampered teenagers, so she ruins their evening. However, what Azula should really do is to try to understand why she does not fit.

The episode shows that Azula is ignorant when it comes to casual relationships:

Azula: “I am so used to people worshipping us”.

Ty Lee: “They should!”

Azula: “I know and I love it. But for once I just wanna see how people would react to us if they did not know who we were.”

She says so directly. She has been worshipped all her life. However, this means she does not know how people react to her outside of her role as a princess and a military leader.

The military aspect is especially interesting because, even if she does not disclose her identity as a royal, her attempts to bond are all centered around military topics:

Azula: “That's a sharp outfit, Chan. Careful, you could puncture the hull of an empire-class Fire Nation battle ship, leaving thousands to drown at sea. Because... it's so sharp.”

Azula: “Together you and I will be... THE STRONGEST COUPLE IN THE WHOLE WORLD! We will dominate the Earth!”

Her life has been a long training session for war, so she does not really know anything else. This is obvious both in how she can’t talk about other things and in how she sees others not like people, but like enemies/rivals.

This is also why the vacation in Amber Island could have been very important if Azula had been able to properly capitalize on it. All in all, The Beach is the episode where Azula is shown the most vulnerable (not counting the finale where she has a complete break-down).

She tries to change her approach to go along with others:

Azula: “Well that sounds really shallow and stupid...Let’s try it!

She openly apologizes and shows her insecurities:

“Look...maybe I just said it because I was a little...jealous.”

However, all of this is not enough to change the trajectory of her arc. Why is that so? This has to do with another aspect of Azula’s controlling tendencies. As a matter of fact not only does she controls herself, but also others.

b) Azula is presented since the beginning as a highly manipulative character. Manipulation is at the root of all her major relationships:

Zuko:You lied to me!

Azula: Like I've never done that before.

She lies to Zuko to catch him and forces Ty Lee to join her through manipulation. Moreover most of her plans rely on manipulation and lies. However, if you try to control and manipulate others you are unable to build healthy relationships.

This is what happens to Azula. As stated above, nobody replies to Azula when she opens up. Zuko could have very easily told her Ursa loved them both. May and Ty Lee could have tried to comfort her somehow. However, nobody does. And nobody does because they are all scared of Azula. In her attempt to control everybody, Azula has negated herself the chance to have a relationship among equals.

What is more, it is clear that it is impossible to fully control others. The Beach starts to show this through Azula’s attempts to flirt. Without her status as a princess, her peers do not behave like she wants. She might be able to hook up with a guy by rehearsing and applying a strategy. However, building a relationship is not a military operation. It is not something that can be done through control, but only through respect and trust.

Azula fails to do so and this is why she is left behind by others. She is left behind by Zuko who breaks free from their father. She is left behind by Mai and Ty Lee who choose healthier relationships over the one they have with her. After she loses them, Azula starts spiralling out of control and burns everything around her.

In short, I would say that Azula’s main flaw is “control”. She wants to control everyone, herself included. So in the end she is betrayed and left behind by people and she herself loses control:

Ursa: I think you're confused. All your life you've used fear to control people. Like your friends Mai and Ty Lee.

Azula:Well what choice do I have? Trust is for fools! Fear is the only reliable way. Even you fear me.

This is especially tragic because it is clear that Azula’s behaviour is her answer to an environment where a clear line was drawn between winners and losers. Azula has always been Ozai’s favourite, but Ozai has never loved her. He loves Azula’s talent, so Azula cultivates those qualities which make her accepted by her father. What is more, Ozai is not a character who values feelings or emotions, so Azula represses these aspects of herself.

In conclusion, I think Azula is a very tragic character and that her spiral was very well written and realistic. I also think that in the series itself she has shown the potential to change for the better, but this possibility has not been explored. I mean, if she had no guilt nor regrets about her behaviour, she would not have seen the hallucination of her mother calling her out.

These are more or less my major thoughts on Azula. There are probably many other things to add, but as far as my generic impressions of her go, this is what I have to say. Feel free to make more specific questions! I love her!

Thank you for the ask!

#atla #azula #asksfullofsugar #anonymous

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oreoambitions · 4 years

Text

It's been almost a week since Sam came to National City to ask for Kara's help, but it's been only two days since The Talk.

It was Lena who approached Supergirl first, who asked for a meeting at L-Corp and then struggled to break the news. She ordered them iced coffees and they sat awkwardly on opposite sides of her desk, Lena struggling uncharacteristically to find the right words, and Supergirl trying not to think about all the times she's been in this office as Kara, Just Kara, and how much it chafes to continue the charade.

"I lied about the test results," Lena said at last. "It was- I'm sorry. It was very important to Sam. She wanted to protect Ruby, and-"

"Sam's Kryptonian," Supergirl whispered. It felt like a puzzle piece clicking into place. "Even without Reign."

"Yes."

"And Ruby..."

"Half Krpytonian. Yes. But it's Sam I wanted to talk to you about. I know the two of you have a history-"

Supergirl waved her hand, as if she could have dismissed Reign with a simple gesture. "That wasn't Sam," she said, and she meant it. "But that was months ago. Why tell me now?"

Lena gazed into her coffee, and then out the window at National City, and Supergirl waited for the inevitable request to come. She waited and waited and just when she thought she might have to break the silence herself, Lena spoke. "She's having a hard time controlling her powers, and we didn't know who else to go to. Will you help her?"

As if Supergirl could ever have said no.

It was Alex who came to Kara as Kara, who showed up at her apartment door the next evening with a bag of bribery potstickers and an anxious frown.

"Sam..." she began.

"I know." Kara set plates out on the bar and avoided meeting Alex's eyes. "Lena told me yesterday. Well, she told Supergirl."

"Oh."

There was a comfortable quiet between them for a few minutes as food was served and beer bottles were opened and only when Kara was settled comfortably on her stool did Alex start to talk.

"We stayed in touch after she left National City. And I had my doubts, but Lena said she was human and she didn't seem to want to talk about it, so I left it alone. But then a couple of weeks ago-"

"You've known about this for weeks?" Kara actually put a potsticker down out of sheer incredulity. "And you didn't tell me?"

Alex made a face. "It wasn't my secret to tell. And she promised she would talk to you about it. Well, to Supergirl. But I don't think it's Supergirl she needs right now." Alex turned sideways in her stool to fix Kara with her very best, most serious pleading expression. "She's completely terrified. She has no idea what she's doing, and she doesn't have Clark to help her deal with this. She's got a lot of blood on her hands, and I just think that what she needs right now is to talk to somebody who's been through it. Somebody human. Well, not human, but you know what I mean. Somebody she can relate to."

Which is how two days ago Kara came to be hovering outside of Sam's hotel room, a hundred feet or so in the air, in her civilian clothes. She hesitated. It was dangerous to be out in civilian clothes, and so the hesitation was foolish, but she couldn't bring herself to hurry. To reveal her identity to anyone at all was a risk. To reveal it to Lena's best friend was downright stupid. But it had to be done. Kara tapped on the window, gentle at first, and then more firmly when Sam didn't come right away.

Sam pulled the blinds back with an awed expression, seeing Kara without really seeing her, already reaching for the latch when she said, "Supergirl! I- Wait. Kara?"

Kara eased herself through the window and brushed off her jeans. "I think we should talk," she said.

///// It took two days of conversation, meditation, and tears before Sam agreed to learn to fly, and now they're here on the mountain where the DEO once put a very green Supergirl through her paces. There are no tests to run now, no military to win over, no point to prove. Just Alex, Sam, Kara, and the open sky.

"Are you ready?" Kara asks.

Sam shifts her weight from foot to foot and looks up at all that bright blue nothing. "The last time I flew, people died. You almost died."

Kara nods. They've been over this hangup a couple of times now, and there isn't much left to say. "That wasn't you," she says anyway. It doesn't hurt for Sam to hear it again.

"What if I fall?"

"It doesn't hurt." Kara looks at Sam out of the corner of her eye, at her crossed arms and closed expression, hoodie and sweats even in the heat of the day. "You might leave a mark on the mountainside, but I don't think anybody's going to notice. Not a big deal. Promise."

"It's not hitting the mountain I'm afraid of," Sam says. "It's just the falling."

Kara doesn't have an answer to that.

They stand there together for a while until Alex pats Sam twice on the shoulder and walks away to watch from the other side of the plateau. Kara pretends not to notice that Sam's hands start shaking in Alex's absence. She kicks off gently from the ground and hovers some ten feet up.

"Just come up to me," she says. "Nice and easy. And then, if you want, we can go back down."

For a moment it seems like maybe Sam doesn't know how to take off. She sort of half hops and then huffs, turns all the way around to throw her arms up with exasperation in Alex's general direction, turns back around and looks up, closes her eyes. Kara has been there.

"You know," she says. "In a couple of years you'll be back here teaching Ruby how to do this. If it is Rao's will."

Sam opens her eyes.

"You really think she'll be able to? Do all this?"

Kara shrugs. "We don't know. Maybe." There's no precedent for a half-Kryptonian child on Earth as far as Kara knows, but she's asked Lena, and Lena says probably. Almost definitely. She says Ruby is already showing signs, but that Sam is afraid to see them, that the best thing Supergirl can do for Ruby and Sam both is to make Sam as comfortable as possible in her own body.

Sam kicks off the ground. She shoots up a little too fast at first with a yelp, overshoots Kara and has to bring herself back down. Her cheeks are flushed and her whole body is trembling, but she's doing it: she's flying.

"There you go," Kara says with a bright smile. "See? Super easy. Like riding a bike."

"I don't like bikes," Sam mumbles.

Kara isn't sure if that's true or if Sam is trying to make a quip about flying. "You want to go up a little higher?"

They spend an hour on it. Sam stays close to the ground at first, testing her limits, always afraid of falling even as the sky itself steadfastly holds her up. Kara takes her on laps around the mountain range, faster and faster, higher and higher, until Sam puts on a burst of speed and breaks the sound barrier. Alex whoops far below, and Sam comes to a halt laughing and crying as Kara wraps her arms around her for a midair hug.

"See? You've got this. You were born for this."

Sam says nothing for a long while, weeping into Kara's shoulder. Kara holds her tight. To the right stretch the city and the sea, and to the left the desert on and on forever, and there's Sam in the middle of it all flying for the first time, and Kara is feeling small and magnificent and less alone than she has in a long time.

Sam pulls away and wipes her face. "Do you think..." She looks out at the city and shakes her head once, hard.

"Do I think what?"

Sam makes a pained face. "It's stupid."

"Nothing is stupid today."

"Do you think I could do what you do? Do you think I could help?" She fixes Kara with a serious expression. "I know I have a lot to learn. But I want to do some good; I feel like I have to do something. I know it was Reign who killed all those people, but it was this body, and I want... Sitting at home watching you on the news knowing I could have been there to back you up, I felt guilty. And useless."

Kara hums. "If this is something you want. But you have to really want it."

"Do I get to wear a cool suit?"

"I think Brainy would give his right arm for the opportunity to design a cool suit for you."

Sam laughs at that. "No skirts though," she says. "The skirt thing is all you."

Kara scrunches up her nose, but she doesn't answer. The skirt is getting old, and perhaps its time she had a conversation with Brainy about a new suit, too. But Brainy is about to have plenty to do, so perhaps not.

"When will you tell Ruby about your powers?"

Sam raises her eyebrows. "When will you tell Lena about yours?"

"That's not fair; it's a completely different situation," Kara protests.

"Because you're in love with her?"

Kara's stomach drops as though she'd suddenly fallen from the air. She turns away. Even from here she can spy the little black van winding its way up to the top of the mountain. Lena is in that car, and Kara's second student. Kara isn't ready. Kara isn't sure she will ever be ready.

"Let's do a few more laps before they get here," she says.

Lena arrives dressed more appropriately for a gala than for standing in the dust on the top of a desert mountain, high heels and a skin tight dress, hair falling loose over her shoulders. Kara almost laughs when she sees her, feels almost crushed beneath the sudden rush of grief and affection, but she doesn't come down to the ground. This is all difficult enough from here, thank you. Alex can do all the necessary talking; Kara will stay out of the way.

Sam touches down though and throws her arms around Lena, and Kara can hear them laughing together, can see the glow of pride in Lena's face as she holds Sam by the shoulders, can practically feel the warmth of the love between them. And then the second figure gets out of the car, shoulders hunched in her muscle tank, blonde hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. She's cautious, hovering at Lena's shoulder like a ghost.

Lena pushes the newcomer gently towards Sam. Sam cocks her head to one side and glances up at Kara, then at Alex.

"Linda," Lena says, "This is Sam. She's going to fly with you and Supergirl today. Sam, this is the woman I was telling you about."

Linda reaches for a handshake. Sam brushes her arm aside and goes for a hug.

"I didn't know Supergirl had a twin," Sam comments.

"She didn't," Linda replies.

Kara drifts a little higher into the sky. Sam comes up to join her at Lena's request, granting her a moment of privacy with Linda, at least to the extent that one can enjoy privacy in Kryptonian company. And Kara wants to look away because damn it all to hell Sam is right. Sam is right and Kara is in love and she would give anything, anything at all, to be Linda in that moment when Lena kisses her mouth right there in the dust in the sun at the top of the world.

"You can do this," Lena whispers, and Kara wants to curse her super hearing and she wants to curse her heart and she wants to curse the fact that she can't bring herself to hate the person who won Lena before Kara could work up the courage because it's Linda. Linda who nearly gave her life to save Kara's. Linda who lay unconscious in the DEO for days and days while she recovered from Kryptonite poisoning, and longer still while she waited out a solar flare so intense that for a while they weren't sure her powers would ever return. How could Kara hate her? It isn't her fault, not really.

Kara finally turns away. She does another lap around the mountain range to clear her mind and when she returns Linda is standing on the ridge of the valley leaning out over the precipice. Sam says nothing, doesn't ask why Kara never mentioned Linda, doesn't ask whether this has something to do with her decision to withhold her identity from Lena. She just squeezes Kara's shoulder and offers a sad, knowing smile.

"Are you ready?" Kara calls down.

Linda steps out into empty space.

For a split second Kara is afraid that Linda's powers haven't returned after all, that they've made a terrible mistake, and Sam must feel the fear too because they both flinch forward. But the air holds, and Linda stands there perfectly still, hovering just a few inches above the ground. It's as though the world freezes for a moment. And then she looks up, and she smiles.

Kara lets out a breath she never realized she was holding.

"See?" Sam calls down. "Like riding a bike."

Linda looks confused, and Kara laughs, and then the three of them are standing together in the sky holding one another by the forearms and the shoulders as though holding one another up.

"Do you think..." Linda begins. She looks out at the desert and shakes her head once, hard. Kara has a moment of intense deja vu.

"Do I think what?"

"Maybe we can make a better world," Linda says. She meets Kara's eyes cautiously at first, not looking straight at her, as though Kara will reprimand her or turn away.

Kara looks at each of them in turn, and then down to where Alex and Lena are leaning against the van, watching. What an unlikely family they are: the head of a covert government agency, a billionaire super genius CEO, the liberated vessel of a lost god, an accidental clone, and the last daughter of Krpyton. Well, not the last daughter after all. She smiles. "Maybe we have already begun."

#supergirl #supergirl fic #ficlet #kara danvers #sam arias #lena luthor #red daughter #linda lee #commiecorp #supercorp

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