#pulling invasive plants up and destroying them with fire

[invasato]

dates that nobody but me wants to go on

#eating clam strips and fried shrimp in silence #pulling invasive plants up and destroying them with fire #cuddling on top of a big rock #spending one million hours looking at things on a hike #catching prepping and eating fish together #feeding pigeons in silence (head leaning on shoulder edition) #embroidering on the porch #helping me clip my guinea pigs nails #standing in a cave and holding hands so we dont lose each other #camping. thats it just camping #and also going to the beach and getting horribly sunburnt and holding crabs. nice #chirping

[toadstoolgardens]

Eat & Destroy: Garlic Mustard

Fuck garlic mustard (in North America, anyway)! This plant is highly invasive and a serious threat to native plants through overcrowding, prolific seeding, and allellopathy. Brought to North America from Europe in the 1800s as a food plant, garlic mustard has now gone completely feral. In Europe garlic mustard or Jack by the Hedge is native and has it's place in the food chain.

Garlic mustard is also edible and tasty raw or cooked. You may have seen posts encouraging eating invasives, which is great and yes you should! But with garlic mustard harvesting for eating does nothing to control it's spread. If you want to make a difference in the biodiversity of your local woodlands you'll have to do more than forage. You need to eat and destroy.

Finding & Identifying Garlic Mustard

This bastard of a plant can grow just about anywhere. Roadsides, along forest edges, along creeks and streams, in open forest, in parks, around the city, and everywhere in between. And when you find it you'll probably find a lot of it.

Garlic mustard is a biennial herb that sends up tiny leaves in the first year and grows basal rosettes of leaves and tall flower stalks in the second year. The leaves have scalloped edges and are fairly round and kidney-shaped around the basal rosette and become more triangular as they move up the stalk. The stems are often purple-tinged. When crushed the leaves will give off their distinct garlicy smell. When fully grown it can reach up to 3 feet all.

In order to effectively remove garlic mustard you'll need to pull it before it flowers and seeds. It will likely flower somewhere around March-May depending on your area. The flowers are small, white, with four petals and the seed pods form on the stem beneath. The long, thin seed pods are about two inches long with small black seeds.

Harvesting Garlic Mustard for Eating

To harvest garlic mustard simply use your fingers and snap off the top tender portion of the stem and leaves, usually the top 6-12 inches. The stem should snap easily. The younger the plants the stronger their flavor.

Many foragers say the tastiest time to harvest garlic mustard is when the flowers are budding, but garlic mustard tops can bloom and go to seed even after you've picked them! A slightly more succulent stem isn't worth risking bringing invasive garlic mustard seeds home with you!!

Eating Garlic Mustard

The leaves and stems of garlic mustard are edible cooked or raw. The leaves have a mustard green/garlic-like flavor with some bitterness. The stem is the most delicious part. It's sweet and garlicy like a mix between a snap pea and a garlic scape.

Eat them raw, blend them up, saute them, steam them, add them to pestos and hummus, add them to pastas and soups and sauces, bake the leaves into chips, there's so many options with garlic mustard.

Removing & Managing Garlic Mustard

Now that you have plenty of garlic mustard tops to eat, let's destroy the rest!!!

To properly remove garlic mustard each plant needs to be pulled up root and all and either burned or suffocated to death. It takes some work so grab some foraging friends and organize a garlic mustard pull! Pull from the base of the stem to have the best chance of getting the whole root out.

Once you've pulled and gathered up all your garlic mustard roots and shoots, do not compost them!! They can still flower and seed and continue spreading. Instead you'll want to either:

Burn the fuck out of them. Burn them as soon as possible because as they dry the seed pods can still burst open and spread. Practice good fire safety and dance around it while you watch your plant enemies burn.

If you're not able to have a fire, your next best option is to suffocate them. Bag up the garlic mustard in opaque bags and leave them in the sun to die.

Remember where the patch of garlic mustard was and return at least once a year and repeat. With regular pulling you will deplete the garlic mustard's seed bank, but full removal can take years of regular pulling. It's a slow but important battle and you are making a difference with each plant pulled!!

Management Tips:

Don't leave any pulled garlic mustard on the ground because (you guessed it) it can still flower and seed. Make sure to gather and take it all with you to burn/suffocate.

Mowing is not effective for the same reason. Mowing when the seed pods are present will make things even worse!

Brush off your shoes and clothes before leaving the garlic mustard patch. Don't take home sneaky seeds

Some areas offer free control for invasive species like garlic mustard. Look into if there's any city or county weed control programs near you (and make sure they don't control by spraying chemicals!)

Some areas hold volunteer workdays to pull garlic mustard and teach proper management. Look into nature centers and volunteer groups near you, or start and plan your own!

If everyone interested in foraging went out and ate and destroyed a patch of garlic mustard, we might see a day where it's no longer a threat to our native woodlands! Be safe and happy foraging!🌱

Source, Source, Lyle, Katie Letcher. The Complete Guide to Edible Wild Plants, Mushrooms, Fruits, and Nuts. 2017. Pp. 16-18

#foraging #invasive plants #garlic mustard #garmussy #edible invasives #plant management #forest management #woodland management #invasive species

[ukrainenews]

Daily Wrap Up October 9, 2022

Under the cut:

A Russian missile attack early on Sunday struck an apartment block and other residential buildings in Ukraine’s southeastern city of Zaporizhzhia, killing at least 13 people and injuring 87 others, including 10 children, Ukrainian officials said.

Engineers restored external power to the Zaporizhzhia Nuclear Power Plant on Oct. 9, a day after the facility lost connection to its last remaining operating power line due to shelling, forcing the plant to switch on its emergency generators, Director General Rafael Mariano Grossi of the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) said in a statement

Ukrainian authorities have exhumed the first 20 bodies – including children, civilians and soldiers – from makeshift graves in Lyman, Donetsk Oblast.

Car traffic on the Crimean bridge has resumed in two lanes, Deputy Prime Minister of Russia Marat Khusnullin said in a Telegram post Sunday. Train traffic has also resumed on the bridge, but larger vehicles like heavy trucks, vans and buses continue to use ferry boats.

Russian President Vladimir Putin blamed Ukrainian special services for blowing up the Crimean bridge.

“A Russian missile attack early on Sunday struck an apartment block and other residential buildings in Ukraine’s southeastern city of Zaporizhzhia, killing at least 13 people and injuring 87 others, including 10 children, Ukrainian officials said.

The pre-dawn fusillade was the second of its kind against the city in three days. It came a day after a blast hit Russia’s road-and-rail bridge to Crimea, the key supply line for Russian forces battling to hold territory around the southern Ukrainian city of Kherson.

Russian aircraft launched at least 12 missiles into Zaporizhzhia in the latest strike, partially destroying a nine-storey apartment block, leveling five other residential buildings and damaging many more, said Oleksandr Starukh, governor of the Zaporizhzhia region.

"Twelve missiles came, all from planes," he said on state-run television.

At least 13 people died and 87 others were wounded, 60 of whom were hospitalized, regional officials said. The wounded included 10 children.

The rescue operation at the nine-storey apartment building was complicated by a fire that broke out in the rubble, Starukh said.

"We pulled people out quickly and saved eight people already, but when the fire starts then people (under the rubble) have practically no chance of surviving as there is no oxygen," he added.

Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskiy condemned the attack as "absolute evil" by people he called "savages and terrorists", vowing those responsible would be brought to justice.

Zaporizhzhia city, about 52 km (30 miles) from a Russian-held nuclear power plant, has been under frequent shelling in recent weeks, with 19 people killed on Thursday.

“Zaporizhzhia again. Merciless strikes on peaceful people again. On residential buildings, just in the middle of the night," Zelenskiy said on the Telegram messaging app.

Emergency workers and firefighters cordoned off the nine-storey building and dug for survivors and casualties in the smouldering rubble of a massive central section that had collapsed.

The blast wrecked cars and left torn metal window frames, balconies and air conditioners dangling from the building’s shrapnel-pitted facade.

Rescue workers carried the bodies of residents who died out through a window and laid them out on the ground under blankets and in body bags.

Most of the Zaporizhzhia region, including the nuclear plant, have been under Russian control since the early days of Russia's invasion. The capital of the region, Zaporizhzhia city, remains under Ukrainian control.

Ukraine, the United States, the European Union, and human rights organizations have accused Russia of committing war crimes since its full-scale invasion began in February, saying attacks on civilian infrastructure, including schools and hospitals, have killed and wounded thousands of people.

Moscow denies deliberately attacking civilians during what it calls a “special military operation” to demilitarize its neighbour.”-via Reuters

~

“Engineers restored external power to the Zaporizhzhia Nuclear Power Plant on Oct. 9, a day after the facility lost connection to its last remaining operating power line due to shelling, forcing the plant to switch on its emergency generators, Director General Rafael Mariano Grossi of the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) said in a statement.  

"After the repair work was successfully completed, the 750-kilovolt line was reconnected to Europe’s largest nuclear power plant in the evening, enabling it to start switching off the emergency diesel generators that had provided it with backup electricity since the connection was cut early on Saturday," Grossi said.

Ukraine’s state nuclear operator Energoatom reported on Oct. 8 that overnight shelling had cut power to the nuclear plant, which requires cooling to avoid a meltdown, forcing it to resort to its emergency generators.

After the power was cut, Energoatom head Petro Kotin told the BBC that the diesel generators have a limited supply of fuel. “If (the generators) run out of fuel, after that they will stop, and after that, there will be a disaster… there will be a melting of the active core and a release of radioactivity from there,” Kotin said.

The nuclear power plant's six reactors are currently in a "cold shutdown" but still require power for cooling and other essential nuclear safety and security operations.

Russia has occupied the plant since early March and has been using it as a base to launch attacks on Ukraine.”-via Kyiv Independent

~

“Ukrainian authorities have exhumed the first 20 bodies – including children, civilians and soldiers – from makeshift graves in Lyman, Donetsk Oblast.

The identification procedure is complex, as "most of the bodies are in a state of change; there is a package that contains only bones," Ukraine's National Police reported on Oct. 9.

The police say the exhumation works continue at two mass burial sites, where there may be about 200 civilian bodies.

Since Sept. 29, Ukrainian authorities have found 87 bodies in Donetsk Oblast.”-via Kyiv Independent

~

“Car traffic on the Crimean bridge has resumed in two lanes, Deputy Prime Minister of Russia Marat Khusnullin said in a Telegram post Sunday.

“Traffic has already been launched along two lanes on the Crimean bridge,” Khusnullin wrote, adding that earlier, one lane was being used for cars traveling in both directions, slowing down traffic since the explosion.

The deputy prime minister also posted a video showing the cars moving in two lanes across the Kerch bridge.

“Lighting was adjusted on the road part, new markings were applied, barrier fences were restored,” Khusnullin added. “Now it will be possible to drive faster on the bridge by car.”

Train traffic has also resumed on the bridge, but larger vehicles like heavy trucks, vans and buses continue to use ferry boats.”-via CNN

~

“Russian President Vladimir Putin blamed Ukrainian special services for blowing up the Crimean bridge.

Source : Putin during a meeting with the head of the SC of the Russian Federation Oleksandr Bastrykin, reports RIA Novosti and TASS

Details : According to Putin, the authors, executors and customers of the bombing of the Crimean bridge are the special services of Ukraine.

The President of the Russian Federation also called the undermining of the bridge a "terrorist attack".

Putin's direct speech : "Here... there is no doubt. This is a terrorist attack aimed at destroying Russia's critically important civilian infrastructure."”-via Pravda (Ukrainian language source)

#Daily Update #Ukraine #Russia #War in Ukraine #Crimea #Zaporizhzhia #lyman #donetsk

[the-firebird69]

We have a lot of people bothering him here he doesn't notice it so I'm calling

Twice as many as usual so we need people to get on it and I mean it right now

Thor Freya there are things that are broiling and simmering and are going to come out very big very shortly and a list of few there is an invasion plant of Florida and it is getting larger and larger as we speak there are several people who are very rude and they're the ones planning it and have massive attitudes with our son is a problem

+there is a huge huge conflict going on in the north they're going after the ships and using the excuse and they're going after what could be huge kju or monsters they say or Giants a lot of them say they're Giants and our son is under extreme duress and we need actual assassins in here I'm running it up now

-this is going to be a very big day they're a huge number is going to burning Man and giant numbers going to the Canary Islands they're about four or five other places that we have not mentioned there are humongous numbers going there it all in all ended up it's probably a percent of the entire population however 95% of those are more lock and their Mac morlock trumps make up 70% of them and God bless us so he's going to be out of here and he will not be making very many rude comments and threats at our son shortly there's several reasons

-he's being cut off from the rest of society and his are being admonished. He's being fired from Florida and Charlotte county but all over the world is being forced out of positions for being an incompetent buffoon he's taking huge hits where he's sitting on things and for his stashes and caches overseas there about 75% empty and they're using them to go after his areas so he can't counter and pull it out and take over the world. A giant giant numbers of people want him off the list to be president or to run for it actually they want him off the ballot and it's becoming a nightmare for them wherever they go they get swarmed with people demanding that they quit. And he's going out in his mobster costume two or three times a day plans to go out twice today and he's getting rid of his own people because he's a deluded mental patient. Are there several other things happening mostly he is being destroyed and bja they will try and invade tonight around 2:00 or 3:00 a.m. they are going to a mass at Alabama and Georgia and the pseudo empire is going to reduce them on occasion. There's more things happening here but this is front Page News

-they're battling over taping ships out however they still taking them out around the entire peninsula and globe but here they're going very fast and too fast for I like him it is a threat on her son and they're ridiculous assholes. They'll be done taking those ships out of four holes we think by the end of today they're not very big it will help depressurize the state and water will be diverted from coming down here which is good and it will last for a while and it won't block the exit of the water much statewide and they'll be two on the East Coast and they're smaller but it will work it'll take them time to take all the diamonds out. Also there are about 15 holes that will be cleared out of ships and that's the second ring from 10 to 15 miles and that will be tomorrow probably afternoon and then the third ring 15 to 50 will be Sunday and 50 to 150 on Monday or Tuesday there's a bigger but they take longer to prep so it's going to be a heck of a weekend and they'll start pulling the plugs and getting the diamonds out you can't get them out without the plugs cuz you can't see and tons of stuff will flow out if there's a lot in the tunnels it's just a nightmare in there it's gross hello there's other things happening too

-now the car his car and hers are up in Montreal and Quebec and he's in the English speaking area and she of course speaks french. There's some other things happening but this car situation is changing everything people see the trumpsters are idiots and the clones and they don't want to do anything and not even their own ideas and they're being killed because of it because they're useless blobs who are just using extortion it doesn't work on us they end up getting hit buy a whole bunch of people now they're working on these cars and they're getting broken loose believe it or not they probably will move the cars shortly and he's amazed and thought they would come from there but no these people are not willing to do the job the cars are going to come from somewhere else and Lily is not going to be driving either she is against it his mom is against it in the current form and she would bring it to him if she wasn't and Ken cannot it's getting rather slim he says it really is the whole thing is bring it down here and try and sell it to him early and the idiots are doing it including Trump and he's a madman then doesn't think anything the short end of the stick but it is working and it'll come down here and sit and people will hear their crap all over the place and they'll disappear as it is now they're losing their positions in Florida and Charlotte county mostly we're talking about rapidly they had about 30% lost last Friday now it's up to 50% and today they're being cut out of another 10 to 20% and they won't have any positions in about 4 or 5 days none other groups are filling in and Mac morlock of any kind by the way except for pseudo empire and they will have only about 50% of the jobs. There's a large number of people who see it we do. It's starting now and it's going to be aggressive along with a diamond taking and the ship small ships and it's all pseudo empire they're also going to be pulling these people in continuously and blockading and trying to according them off so they can't come in the car coming down here is going to force huge numbers of warlock here and the pseudo empire will have to gear up and the clones are going to get in their face we think that this will start off then pushing the ships out and the final push will occur when they're going for the diamonds and these idiots will be in the way all around the entire Gulf and in the globe they don't have that many ships by comparison firepower is way up there it's about half of the pseudo empire but by the time these ships are to leave the stone ships will be pushed out and they will be engaging the empire and once these ships are out the pseudo empire is going to start moving their shield in where the ships were and the more or less going to be there areas and people are going to resist that and mostly minority more luck and the warlock and it will align the two for a Time and they stop bothering their son as much no they're terrible they do get him stuff but they've been doing the whole time they don't get anything big and in that time in about a week the car will start coming down and eventually it gets here and they start taking ships from the pseudo empire

Thor Freya

Olympus

Zues Hera

[avversiera-writes]

touch your heart [senju tobirama/you] - chapter 10

Summary: Hashirama might go down as the worst matchmaker in history, but he thinks he might be on to something. Tobirama sees through his brother's schemes and is determined not to fall for it. Or fall for you.

Word Count: about 5k

AO3 LINK TO TOUCH YOUR HEART

AOR SERIES LINK TO ‘TIL DEATH DO US PART

[<<<CHAPTER ONE] [CHAPTER TWO] [CHAPTER THREE] [CHAPTER FOUR] [CHAPTER FIVE] [CHAPTER SIX] [CHAPTER SEVEN] [CHAPTER EIGHT] [CHAPTER NINE] 

“You’re really going?” Madara inquires. He is seated in front of you, with a small wooden table between. A candle and two cups of tea sits on its surface. 

 You smile at him. “Yeah. I need to make amends. Help out those who need help and be good, whatever that means.” 

 Madara’s eyebrows knit in worry. “I could come with you.” 

You let out a chuckle and you reach for your friend’s hand. “It’s okay. I can handle my own. You know I need to do this.”

 Madara looks at you doubtfully, then he stares at your hand on top of his. For a moment, the two of you sit in silence. You glance at Madara’s face, the candle light flickering shadows on his skin. You notice the dark bags underneath his eyes and you worry about whether he is not getting any sleep. Madara moves his hand to cover yours, and he squeezes it. 

“I…” Madara starts. He presses his thin lips together. 

 You raise your eyebrows up, expectant. 

 “Nevermind,” Madara sighs. 

You lean forward to encourage him. “Come on. You can tell me anything.” 

 Madara’s eyes grow hesitant. His thumb grazes over your skin, and the action makes you swallow your words. This makes you sad. Someone finally cares about you and you are going to leave them behind. 

“Madara,” you whine. 

 “What will you do when you get back?” Madara asks tentatively. 

You stare at your friend, trying to think. You did not think about this ahead. “I do not know.” 

 “Will you still pursue a career of being a shinobi?” 

“Of course,” you tell him. “It is my life.” 

 Madara nods, and he looks to the side. “Will you be happy, if you do?” 

Your eyes swim for a moment. “Madara, what is going on?” 

Madara retracts his hand and buries it underneath the table. “Nothing.”

 “Madara?” You call for him. “Thank you for everything you’ve done.” 

Madara nods, and a small smile softens his cold features. “Don’t die. I will not forgive you, if you do.” 

 You smirk, and you slowly stand up. “That’s a given.” 

You head towards the exit of his room. You hesitate to slide it open, your fingers resting at the handle. 

“I do not have any plans. I do not have a dream either,” you start to say. “But I want to figure it out. See where I stand in the grand scheme of things.”

You move your arm to slide the door open. 

 “That is not an easy path to take,” Madara warns, moving his hand to take his cup. 

 “When did I ever want easy?” You give him a huge grin, one full of bravado. If you are being honest, you are afraid of going out there once again, but this is the way forward. 

Pride is the last thing you see from Madara’s eyes before you close his door. 

//

You do not see Tobirama until the day you have to be on the Academy grounds, where the ceremony to announce its new curriculum and reformation is going to happen. You stay by the sidelines, your eyes tracking him as he moves about. His face and his demeanor is calm, but there is an air of frenzy surrounding him, as if his skin is itching but he cannot scratch it to ease his discomfort. The sun travels high across the sky, and the expression on Tobirama’s face becomes worse. His eyes start to squint, giving an impression that he is glaring at just about anything he sees, and the lines of his face start to form a scowl. 

 People start to gather in front of the Academy, children, parents, and people visiting from outside of Konoha. You stick to the shadows, carefully watching your back just in case another person tries to pull a knife on you again. 

 That is the only reason you want to get out there again–to offer help to anyone who is desperate to go after you, and to stop the bounty on your head. You know that you must come back to where it all began. Instead of hurting others, you want to use your skills to save because you think you can do it. Hashirama and Madara believe you can do it. 

 You wait for a little bit more, and finally, Hashirama and Tobirama take to the stage that was quickly built this morning. Hashirama says a few good words after retelling the brief beginnings of Konoha and the alliances between the clans that reside in it, and then, he steps aside to let his brother speak. 

 Tobirama glares at the crowd. You watch him with amusement. 

“My brother has a vision of what the Academy can be,” Tobirama begins. “It is not only a place to train young shinobis, but it is also a place to foster an environment where they can excel in many areas such as the sciences and the arts. I proudly announce that I have reformed the Academy to be exactly that…”

You frown. 

 Tobirama finishes his speech and goes on to summarize the curriculum by reading the titles and its author . There is no mention of your name anywhere. Not even a slight reference to you. 

 Something hot washes over you, and it makes your head dizzy. 

 When Tobirama steps off the stage, he nods at everyone and his brother and welcomes the people to explore the Academy. 

 You fight through the crowd to get to him, but he gets farther and farther away. 

You see Hashirama clutching a copy of the curriculum in one arm as he entertains a few children. 

 You wait for an opening, and you fake your smile as you greet Hashirama and ask to see the book. 

 You stare at the first page where Tobirama’s name is printed. Your head becomes empty. 

Suddenly, you push the book back into Hashirama and you bound after Tobirama with a boiling determination to bury your fist into his face. You try not to shout his name in the crowd, and instead, you run to him and you violently push him into another direction.

"I can't believe you!" You almost shout, once the two of you step into the empty classroom.

 Tobirama's hard expression does not change. 

You have never felt rage like this. You have been angry to the point that it gives you enough power to destroy things, but this rage is different. You only see fire, and it makes your heart burn and your face hot. Most of all, it makes tears prick your eye, making your vision blurry. All you can do is yell out because this one really stings. 

 “Are you not going to say anything?” You bark. “Say something or I am going to take my katana and fucking stick it up your arrogant, senile ass!” 

 Tobirama seems to take his time to make up his mind. You are too angry to see the conflict crossing on his face and the more he stays silent, the more you want to rage on. How can he just do this? 

 “Why aren’t you saying something?” You scream, the question tearing at your throat. Your head is spinning. You have never felt like this before. 

You feel...betrayed. 

 Your heart shatters before you can grab the pieces to salvage them.

Tobirama’s eyes are rippling with unsaid words, but they settle and they grow indifferent. “You are a criminal. I could not have your name publicized and connected to the Academy.” 

You gape at Tobirama, realization dawning on you. His suspicions, his need to keep track of you and your movements, his invasive questions to you, his constant monitoring of your abilities and what you can’t do. 

 It is all too much. 

 “After I tell you something so personal to me,” you grit your teeth and clench your fists to keep yourself from throwing him on the ground. “You use it against me in a very prejudiced way?”

 You go to a desk, and with sheer strength, you flip it over and it crashes to the floor, knocking back a few chairs. 

 Tobirama keeps silent and his expression remains stoic. His jaw tightens, and he is also clenching his fists to the point that they are shaking. 

“What is going on here?!” Hashirama interrupts, barging in through the classroom doors. 

 You try not to glare at the Hokage so you keep your eyes to the ground. 

“Nothing,” Tobirama grinds out. 

 “Your brother,” you slowly start. “Accidentally left my name out on this project you assigned to us, in which we equally worked on.” 

Hashirama’s head snaps to Tobirama, disbelief written all over his face. “Is that why you wouldn’t show me the whole thing in the beginning?" He asks his brother. 

 “You’re only in this for the money,” Tobirama says through gritted teeth, but it sounds like he is trying to convince himself. He does not even look at you when he says this. 

Your mouth drops in shock. “How dare you?!” You have never been so outrightly insulted. 

 “Tobirama, that is enough!” Hashirama interrupts. 

 “What is it to you anyway?” Tobirama demands, his face growing even more emotionless. “You’re just loud, but there really isn’t anything to you. You’re just an empty can, clanking around, making noises to get attention.” 

 Hashirama looks shocked at his brother’s words, and his eyes flit to you with concern immediately. “Tobirama!” Hashirama scolds, wanting to knock sense into his head. 

You stare at Tobirama, and then you turn away when you feel a hot tear slide down your cheek. “Wow,” you laugh to yourself. “To my naivety I thought you couldn’t get worse. On top of being a jerk, you are also quite egoistic, forget it.”

You quickly wipe the tear away, wondering why you cannot depend on your usual facade to hide your hurt away. You take a few deep breaths, and then you turn to Tobirama. 

 “Get fucked, you bastard,” you snarl, and with that, you walk away from him. “I’m glad this is the last time I’ll get to see your shitty face.” 

//

Tobirama stares at the space you just left, and he feels bereft of any feeling except regret. He tries to push it away but it weighs down on him to the point that he is bracing himself on a desk. He is an expert at controlling his emotions and yet, he cannot control the guilt that is taking over him. He feels shame over his own words and he immediately wants to chase you down and take it all back, but he plants his feet and he stares at the surface of the table he is leaning on. 

“What did you do?” Hashirama quietly asks, staring at the back of his brother’s head. 

 “Leave me alone,” Tobirama says. 

“Tobirama,” Hashirama calls his name, trying to make him talk. 

 “I said, leave me alone!” Tobirama slams his palms on the table. 

“Tobirama, you are acting like a child,” Hashirama scolds, the warmth from his voice undetectable. “I suggest you get it together.” 

 “Or else?” Tobirama retorts, feeling risky today. His brother can be scary when he is angry, and he deserves to receive his brother’s wrath. 

Hashirama grabs his arm harshly, forcing his brother to look at him. “Why did you do that?” 

Tobirama grits his teeth and he does not look his brother in the eye. 

 “Don’t make me repeat myself.” 

Tobirama takes his arm away and he starts to pace in the classroom. “Do you really want to know why?” 

 “Yes. Why?” 

 “Because if her name gets out in public and it is associated with mine, not only will that put a target on her back, she will also get my enemies on top of hers!” Tobirama shouts, his voice almost cracking from his outburst. 

Hashirama stares at his brother, processing what he just said. “What?” He breathes out. “It’s not because you know about her past or you're being your judgemental self?” 

 “No! I don’t care about that! How could you make her work with me?” Tobirama grows quiet, and he takes his hand and covers his forehead with his palm. “How could you just dump that on me...just how?!” He suddenly bursts out. "She is unbearable!"

Hashirama suddenly understands where his brother is coming from. “You should have just talked to her.” 

 Tobirama glances at the door. “Yeah, well. You could have warned me, elder brother.” 

 “Then would you have worked with her in the first place?” Hashirama asks. 

 “No,” Tobirama scowls. 

 Hashirama raises an eyebrow. “Exactly.” 

Tobirama falls silent, and his forehead creases. 

 “And I am also her Hokage. I can’t be giving out her secrets without her permission,” Hashirama adds, his voice gentle this time. “You should have told her because she is going away for a mission today.” 

Tobirama’s head snaps at this and he bounds for the door immediately, but his brother stops him. 

 “Leave her be and give her space,” Hashirama advises. “She will be back.” 

 Tobirama shakes his head, but he does not want to impose on you anymore. He leans back into the edge of a table and he folds his arms together. 

 “She is not who you think she is,” Hashirama tells Tobirama. 

 “I know,” Tobirama quietly says, staring at one spot on the floor. 

 “Tobirama, you are one hell of a fool,” Hashirama continues to scold. 

Tobirama glances up at his brother. and he grits his teeth “Stop it, elder brother, I am aware of what I did.” 

He continues to glare daggers on the spot on the floor, and although he is trying to push his guilt away like he is used to doing, it does not abate and it hangs over his head like a kind of condemnation. 

 He really drove you away, and so easily. 

//

“Took you long enough,” the woman with the brown eyes–Hina, you remember from the day she attempted to stab you–says, peeling herself away from the shadows of the trees. “We have a deadline to meet.” 

 “I had some men problems,” you roll your eyes and you keep walking. “Let’s go.” 

 “I’m surprised you even want to tag along, you had a good life in there,” Hina says, matching your quick strides. “And why don’t you just kill him? It’d save you time.”

 “How many times do I have to repeat that–”

 “Yeah, yeah, you don’t do that anymore,” Hina finishes and she gives you an unimpressed look. “Why did you even stop? I don’t understand.”

“I changed my mind, that’s it,” you lie. 

 “You felt guilty,” Hina surmises. “You never come back from killing, you know.” 

 You raise a shoulder to shrug, too angry to elaborate or to come up with a smart comeback. “Sure.” 

Hina unsheathes her knife and she flips it over in her hand. “Don’t give me that.” 

 “Why? I don’t even know you. You tried to kill me, remember?” 

 “Yeah, but now, we are working together.”

You sigh. You are tired of teamwork. It has not served you in any way that benefits you. 

 “I promise I won’t kill you,” Hina says, and she uncovers her hood from her head. Reddish brown hair falls down her shoulders and strands fall over her eyes. “Your turn to promise the same thing.”

You roll your eyes. “I promise,” you obnoxiously exclaim, not really meaning it. “Now, shut up and let’s go.” 

 You keep your eyes forward, using this newfound anger in you to not spare the village another glance.

//

Two years later…

Tobirama’s nephews push him to take them to the new meat restaurant that just recently opened up. He sighs, but he gives in since he got off work early and they came all the way to fetch him anyway. He watches them fondly as they fight and jostle each other as they walk, and he lets his mind wander about his latest research and the new jutsus that he just came up with. His brother did not approve of some, forcing him to seal them away and storing them in a more secured place. This is becoming a pattern between the two of them, and at times, Tobirama thinks that every jutsu he comes up with is dangerous to his brother. 

 He cannot blame him, though. Tobirama has been obsessing over his experiments more than usual because there are no more fights to go to. He has made a habit of picking up his pen over his sword. 

 He has kept himself busy, especially now that other Hidden villages are trying to model right after them. His brother sends him to many diplomatic missions to make allies, establish trade and commerce with nearby lands to make sure that Konoha is flourishing and growing. He also participates more in political games to gain resources and to learn of the newest technology. On top of his duties of being the Hokage’s advisor, he is also a teacher and he makes sure that his students are progressing in their careers as shinobi by taking them to espionage missions or bringing them to other lands to protect people and help out wherever they can. 

 He pushes them, and in turn, he also pushes himself to evolve more. He has a routine that he prides himself on following when he is well enough, but he breaks them occasionally when he is rendered inaccessible due to his bouts of manic passion, where he gets all of his work and thinking done all by himself. Hashirama warns him about self-preservation and reminds him of his many self-inflicted accidents, but Tobirama is not one to worry about himself when he is so close to accomplishing a new feat. 

 He is unstoppable when he is in his element.  

And in his most vulnerable moments, when he feels like the weight of his responsibilities are too much (something he will never ever admit because he is a very proud man who loves what he does), his mind goes to you without his consent. He tries not to think about you at all, but his inhibitions fail him in the worst of times and his worries for you escape his most guarded parts of his mind and to the forefront of his thinking. He does not have feelings of contempt over the fact that this is how he is now, but you are gone. There is no point of fighting himself over feelings that will fade in time. Tobirama hopes they do fade in time. 

 He has more important matters to attend to. He has lives to look after and take care of. He cannot afford to entertain his sorry feelings. 

 He is also a shinobi. He trained all his life to set aside personal afflictions for the sake of the bigger picture. He cannot fail himself and his ways. 

 He has all the time to keep convincing himself that this is how it should be for him. 

His many nephews push open the door to the new restaurant, and Tobirama follows after them, warning them to calm down. 

 Sometimes, having their father’s exuberance has its disadvantages. 

 Tobirama naturally looks around the restaurant, observing the decorations: the traditional paintings of landscapes hanging on the wall and the small, makeshift fountain in the corner, where tiny fishes are swimming, the way the tables and booths are arranged. Then, his heart stops when his gaze lands on the familiar shape of your head. You are seated by the counter, quietly munching on your meal like you have not eaten in days. Your weapons lie on the next chair beside you, and there is a knapsack by your feet. 

 Tobirama cannot help but marvel at you, and he thinks that he is seeing a ghost because you have been gone for so long. He never thought that he would see you again. 

 Even in his fair share of travels, he attempts to look for you, and each time, he comes up with nothing and he is nowhere near where you are. He knows his thoughts are becoming more absurd by the moment, but he cannot help but stare at you. He notices that your skin is darker, probably from long exposure from the sun, and there are new healed scars on your arms that he never saw before, but most of all, you are alive. 

 He has spent so many months wondering if you are safe, that seeing you here is a relief, like a breath that he has been holding so damn long. Tobirama does not know what to say. He couldn’t just go there and sit himself near you and start a conversation, not after what he pulled. 

 He deserves your silence. He deserves nothing from you. 

 What would he even say in the first place? 

 That when he no longer hears your vindictive laugh coming after him, when your loud presence and your insulting demeanor are no longer terrorizing him, he has the urge to seek you out. 

 That despite the fact that he should no longer be thinking of you and what he did to you, he still does, and he does it obsessively, as if taking apart that moment can piece him another result that will not end in you leaving. 

Tobirama feels sick as he slides into the booth with his nephews. He is glad that the booth hides him from view, but if he really tries to turn his body, he can easily spot you. 

 Someone comes to serve them, and Tobirama waits for his turn as his nephews shout their orders out.

//

Arriving just a few hours ago, you hear about a new restaurant that has opened in Konoha. You take your time to get there, observing the new things that are happening in the village. The place has changed a lot in two years, and it seems like the place has also grown in population. You try not to wonder about one of the people leading this village who definitely had a big role in encouraging Konoha to grow this strong, but your mind fails you because the Senju clan’s influence is tangible in the air. The people clearly worship their Hokage, because you hear songs in the streets dedicated to Hashirama and poems being recited to tell his feats in battle and in building this village. Naturally, word outside the village travels fast when it comes to the formidable Senju brothers. 

 You hear that Tobirama has grown into a bigger role of politicking, and you speculate that he prefers to work in the background and have his brother in the spotlight because you do not hear songs or poems about him, or see colorful painted portraits of him being sold in the markets of Konoha. 

 Again, you try not to think about him, but his absence in the corners of the streets you pass by just pushes your mind to fill in the gaps with him. 

 Time away from Tobirama did not foster your distaste for him. Instead, you are filled with questions. You want to understand where he is coming from. You want to understand his intentions. You have always known based on your instincts and expertise of reading people that he is the type to lay his life down for this village and his elder brother, that his heart is dedicated to a cause bigger than him. You know deep in your heart, he is a good man, so you want him to talk and explain why he decided to exclude your name from the credit of participating in creating the Academy’s curriculum. 

 Despite his harsh words, he did only speak of the truth. It made sense, though it does not excuse the fact that he hurt you and actively chose to do that. 

 He should have talked. 

 You are disappointed in him, because you know that he can do better. You have seen him be better than that. 

 Your only regret is that you have let your anger blind you for the first time. You are usually pretty good at keeping your cool, but suddenly, when it comes to Tobirama, your feelings become heightened for no damn reason. It’s like his face triggers you and your mouth fires off to immediately insult him and make him see and hear you. 

 You arrive at the new restaurant, and your mouth waters at the sweet and savory smell of meat cooking. It has been a while since you had a good, hearty meal and that is what you will have, before you meet with the Hokage and catch up with Madara. 

 You keep still in your seat as you wait, trying your best to not walk around and touch everything in the restaurant because it is pretty neat. A group of loud boys enter the restaurant, and you chuckle to yourself, remembering Hashirama’s cute sons, but then your food arrives and you quickly take your utensil to eat. You have been so hungry that it does not matter how others perceive you right now. 

“The bill, please,” you request once you are finished eating. 

 The waiter hands refills your glass of water. “Your bill has been paid.” 

 “What?” You say in surprise, completely puzzled. “When?”

 You clearly did not pay your bill before you ate. 

“Just a few moments ago,” the waiter replies and he leaves you to your thoughts. 

You stare at your filled glass, thinking that you got lucky today and that the restaurant is probably doing this to garner more customers. 

 You admit to yourself that what they are doing is a good strategy. 

You shrug to yourself and gather your things so that you can meet Hashirama. You have been dying to catch up with him, and most of all, you are hoping to get a glimpse of Tobirama. 

 The anger you felt towards him is gone, and it replaces with an uncomfortable feeling on your chest. 

 You ignore it, lest it blossoms into something you cannot control. 

//

Hashirama greets you with open arms, and he goes to you like an eager child and you are immediately pulled into a huge embrace. You let out a surprised laugh, and Hashirama steps back to examine you. A huge grin spreads across his features and you cannot help reflecting back his sentiments. 

“I’m here!” You exclaim. 

 “Two years, my gods,” Hashirama cries out, his hands settling on your shoulders. “You could have sent a letter.” 

 You shrug apologetically. “I’m sorry.”

“No matter, no matter!” Hashirama walks back to his desk. “So? Tell me all about it.” 

You take a deep breath, trying to find the courage to retell what happened to you for the last two years. Different events flash into your mind, but you decide to start from the very beginning. Hashirama nods expectantly, encouraging you.

You leave with Hina, the woman who was sent to kill you. The two of you take the job that Nuga speaks of, which is to assassinate the leader of a growing gang towards the eastern lands, near the ocean. You had offered to help Hina so that she could make it back to her family, and then go on your way from there to offer your skills to help people. However, it did not go as planned. 

  The gang has controlled the growing ports near the ocean, signifying their growing power. As the two of you infiltrate the living quarters of the leader, swarms of his subordinates flood the hallways and the two of you become surrounded. With no way to go and no hope of accomplishing this job, you and Hina decide to fight your way out. 

  And in the heat of the battle, Hina gets injured. 

  You wade through countless bodies, one arm defending the two of you and the other half-carrying Hina. Blood sprays in the air, and your vision is painted red, but you keep going. You have no choice if you want to live. You try not to aim at the most vulnerable spots, and instead, you aim low at their legs or choose to slam the flat of your blade against their heads and swoop them off their feet. You are not free of injuries either, as you feel the debilitating stings of the blade slicing against your arm and your side. 

  “I’m sorry,” Hina whispers as the two of you leave a wake of injured men behind you. 

  You trudge ahead, not wasting time to put a huge distance between you and the gang of men. 

“Hina,” you tell her. “You better not die on me.” 

  Hina murmurs your name with a smile. “To fight with you is an honor, Y/n.” 

  You glance at the woman leaning heavily on your shoulder. Half of her body is completely soaked in blood. “Don’t say that. What happened to referring to me as the Man-Killer?” 

  “My family lives in the forest at the very south of the Earth country,” Hina says, her voice becoming weaker and weaker. “Please protect them and help them get through the winter.” 

  “Hina,” you say. “Don’t tell me this.” 

  “You’re just human, you know. You don’t deserve every bad thing out there.”

  “Hina,” you plead. “Shut up.” 

  “Sorry for your arm…” Hina murmurs.

The buzz of energy you feel that makes your blood pump leaves you, making you feel sluggish. Hina is now leaning her weight on you fully, and you know that the two of you cannot travel far like this, so you settle her down against a tree and you check her injuries. 

  Blood covers your hands like a pair of gloves, but you do not shrink away in fear or disgust. You do your best to take care of Hina, refusing to look her in the face. The moonlight shines between the spaces of the trees, illuminating her pale skin and her blood-soaked clothes. 

“Hina,” you whisper fearfully. 

  You do not get another response. 

You fall to your ass on the ground, feeling defeated. You rest your elbows on your knees, and you stare at Hina, feeling empty. After a minute, you make yourself reach for Hina’s hand, and you hold it, until the warmth from her body fades away. You let her know, as she leaves her body, that you are there for her and that she was not alone. 

  Then, before the sun rises, you do your best to clean her up, wiping away the blood from her face and arms, and you cover her with your own garment. You make her a grave, even though your body is tired and in pain. 

  When morning comes, you have her knife strapped with your swords, and you head towards the direction of her home. 

--

The trip takes almost two months, and in those months, you practice travelling through trees using your chakra to propel yourself from one branch to the next. You get tired, and you require long rests, but towards the end, you feel yourself getting stronger and more aware of your power. You pass many towns, luscious forests and dry deserts until you are in another country, taking extra care to watch your back. 

  It takes another two weeks until you find Hina’s family, and you find them in the old Hina fashion, with one of her siblings sticking a knife on your back. You disarm her younger brother easily enough, but the youngest sibling is on a tree branch above you, aiming an arrow to your head. 

“I come in peace,” you announce, immediately raising your hands and dropping the boy’s knife. “Hina sent me.”

  “Where is our sister?” 

  “I have her knife. She died from a job,” you tell them. 

  The girl glares at you. “Did the famed ningen satsujin-sha get her?”

You swallow nervously. “No.” The guilt swallows you, even though your hand did not strike her down.

  “Are you her friend?” 

  You try to think if the short time you spend with Hina can be called friendship. “No.” You decide.

The girl fires her arrow, and you quickly dodge it. You glance back to see where the arrow hits and you narrow your eyes. If you were a little slower, she could have gotten your eye. 

“Good shot,” you compliment. “Your sister told me to help you for the coming winter. You do not need to trust me, but I can help you. Her last words were focused on you.” 

  The girl eyes you suspiciously, and despite the grim situation, you break out into an uneasy grin. The shape of her face reminds you of Hina. 

“I promise I’ll get out of your hair soon enough. I just want to make good on my promise to Hina. I am of your service for as long as you see fit.” 

--

You end up staying with them for a year and a half. You help Hina’s family with hunting and house repairs. When the hunting is fruitful, you help the kids barter for money and other goods through skinned fur and meat that will help them prepare for the seasons. You also teach the kids how to fight, just in case they need to defend themselves. You help chop down firewood and you also fashion two bokkens for Hina’s siblings, and you promise to teach them swordfighting during the summer.

  Through Hina’s family, you learn a thing or two about forgiveness and compassion. 

  Hina’s parents hated you the moment they saw you. They blame you for their daughter’s death. Harsh words usually bounce off of you and in fact, you feed on harsh words because you have an arsenal of your own. Though this time, you choose to ignore their harsh words and practice your tact. Though there are other places you could be, you choose to plant your feet and follow Hina's dying wishes, and that means ensuring that they can live through the fast-approaching winter. 

When the harsh winter passes, Hina’s mother gives you a scarf and serves you a bowl of hot soup. Hina’s father offers you their couch to crash on and asks if you could stay with them a bit longer, and look out for their kids. 

  You could be in other places to pursue your own salvation, but instead, you choose Hina’s family to make it right with. 

  After the next winter and spring, you leave them, and you head towards Konoha, towards home. 

  You were not able to erase the bounty over your head, but helping Hina’s family, that finally felt like atonement. It finally felt like your actions are starting to mean more than just fighting and looking out for your own life. 

  You did not get all the answers you are looking for, but for now, you feel like you are finally on the right track. 

You take a deep breath, and look the Hokage in his eyes. It is completely nightfall, and Hashirama has lit a few candles to make the room brighter. You observe his misty eyes and you chuckle to yourself, because despite your absence, nothing has changed. 

 “I’m sorry for what you’ve gone through,” Hashirama begins, but he does not say anything more, letting a pregnant silence dawn between the two of you. 

“You do not have to worry about the bounty over your head,” Hashirama finally says as he settles on his chair again. 

 Your gaze snaps to Hashirama’s face, on full alert. 

“How come?” 

 Hashirama smiles, and he looks giddy. “My brother pleaded for your case and did some negotiations while you were gone. It is erased. You are free.”

Your jaw drops open in shock. “What?” 

 Hashirama smiles softly. “You know he feels really bad for what he did to you.” 

 “I knew it,” you whisper in disbelief. 

Hashirama sighs and he taps his chin. “I know you might hate him, and I am not excusing what he did! He is wrong for that. He is so wrong.”

 You chuckle and you let out an exasperated sigh. 

 “My brother and I have countless enemies,” Hashirama explains and he meets your eyes seriously. “You have your own burden to carry and he did not want to add any more by associating your name with his. He wants you to be free and not be tied down by the village to do what you need to do.” 

 The urge to look for Tobirama and punch him grows stronger. You have forgiven him long ago, but Tobirama seems to have forgotten that communication exists. If he just told you this in the first place, then you wouldn’t have spent the last two years cursing his name in your mind and making you think that he is a horrible person. 

“Well, I do hope that you catch him soon so that the two of you can talk,” Hashirama emphasizes the last word. “Knowing my brother, it will take years for him to admit anything true to himself, but he is kind, I can promise you that.” 

You let out a laugh, and warmth spreads across your chest. You shake your head with disbelief, and the excitement you feel makes you want to run through the streets of Konoha in joy. 

“I will let him know that you are back,” Hashirama promises. He smiles fondly at you. “And Madara has been waiting for your return.”

 The mention of your friend makes you start for the door. You can hardly wait to see Madara again. It has been too long. You think you may start crying just thinking of him. 

“Lord Hashirama, thank you,” you tell the Hokage sincerely, with all of your heart. 

You mean it, and with the bounty lifted and your heart set on the right path, you feel like you have taken a breath of fresh air. You can finally make your new start here, in Konohagakure.

 You are free. 

.

.

.

[CHAPTER ELEVEN >>>]

#angelica writes #avversiera writes #'til death do us part #Tobirama Senju #Senju Tobirama #Uchiha Madara #senju tobirama x reader #tobirama x reader #tobirama x you #senju tobirama x you #Senju Hashirama #tobirama x y/n #naruto fanfiction

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Support Amazon workers today

Amazon is an innovator: the company has invented some of the most sophisticated techniques ever seen to avoid taxation, the minimum wage, worker safety, and climate justice.

They pioneered worker misclassification, allowing them to treat their drivers as independent contractors or even subcontractors to independent contractors, even as they subjected those workers to supervision to rival the most invasive workplaces.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/03/19/the-shakedown/#weird-flex

They summoned into existence the "Mechanical Turks," among the lowest-paid pieceworkers in existence, largely overseas, receiving pennies (or fractional pennies) to backstop "AI" applications, proving that AI really stands for "absent Indians".

https://pluralistic.net/2021/02/17/reverse-centaur/#reverse-centaur

Amazon gets its workers coming and going: it's not just denying bathroom breaks and other human necessities, nor merely wage-theft - it's also tip-theft, stealing the alms we guilty customers toss to its workers to assuage our shame.

https://slate.com/news-and-politics/2021/02/amazon-ftc-pay-flex-drivers-stolen-tips.html

But the most visible sign of Amazon labor exploitation is in its warehouse workers, a vast army of "reverse centaurs" who serve as the hands of remorseless, relentless robots. The more automated an Amazon warehouse is, the more workers it maims.

https://www.ft.com/content/087fce16-3924-4348-8390-235b435c53b2?shareType=nongift

Amazon's incredible profitability during the lockdown was paid for with workers' lives. Its warehouses were the nexus of multiple covid outbreaks, and the company used racist smears to discredit workers who demanded basic safety precautions.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/04/03/socially-useless-parasite/#christian-smalls

Amazon understands that warehouse organizing is the beginning of the end for its extraction of inhuman work for inhuman wages.

That's why even its prized tech workers get fired for expressing solidarity with warehouse workers.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/04/14/abolish-silicon-valley/#hang-together-hang-separately

And it's why the project of organizing Amazon warehouse workers is so urgent. Amazon's plans for its warehouses are even more Dickensian than the current system. Take the "megacycle," a ten-hour shift that runs from 1:20AM to 11:50AM.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/02/05/la-bookseller-royalty/#megacycle

It's a shift that any worker would suffer under, but it's especially hard on women workers, forcing them to leave behind their families, and to commute to work at an hour when public transit isn't running.

The megacycle isn't just a way to realize "efficiencies" (more work for less money), it's also a way to punish labor activists: it's being piloted at DCH1, the Chicago warehouse whose workers made national news by demanding safe work conditions during the lockdown.

But Amazon's workers refuse to be intimidated. Warehouse workers continue to demand the right to organize and collectively bargain for a living wage and safe, humane working conditions.

In Bessemer, Alabama, Amazon warehouse workers are voting on union formation.

Amazon has pulled out every stop to sabotage the union vote. They even got the city to change the timing of the traffic lights near its warehouse so that organizers couldn't use red lights to talk to workers on their way to the plant.

https://www.theverge.com/2021/2/17/22287191/amazon-alabama-warehouse-union-traffic-light-change-bessemer

Statistically, you are probably an Amazon customer. So am I. They are nearly impossible to avoid. After all, not only has Amazon predated upon small businesses, eliminating choice - and what they didn't kill, private equity looters destroyed.

https://www.bloomberg.com/graphics/2017-retail-debt/

My problem with Amazon isn't the ease of buying web hosting or compute time; it's not the convenience of having a lot of goods for sale in one place; it's not the utility of music streaming or the entertainment from TV shows.

My problem with Amazon is its brutal labor policies, its tax evasion, its climate wreckage, its monopolistic predation, its union busting, its wage theft.

It's not like the company can't afford to end these crimes.

It made $20B in profits in 2020.

When we talk about a good Amazon, we're not talking about eliminating Amazon (though maybe we should break the company up). We're talking about shifting the disposition of that $20B, so it doesn't accrue solely to its shareholders.

Much of that $20B is the result of exploiting workers, dodging taxes (or even getting tax *subsidies*), stealing from suppliers, externalizing the climate and other costs of its business onto the rest of the world.

We all have a stake in a fair Amazon - whether or not we're Amazon customers. The workers in Bessemer have faced an onslaught of propaganda, spying and intimidation from Amazon and its contractors, the Pinkertons (yes, the *literal* Pinkertons).

https://pluralistic.net/2021/01/04/how-to-truth/#awu

Many of us have recognized that the Bessemer workers deserve our solidarity. The Tech Workers Coalition, for example, has been running the #DoItWithRealPower campaign to counter Amazon's propaganda.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/01/19/deastroturfing/#real-power

Today, we have the chance to *directly* support the workers in Bessemer. SupportAmazonWorkers.org has organized 40+ solidarity demonstrations in cities in the USA and Canada, which you can attend.

https://supportamazonworkers.org/march20/

Amazon knows this fight matters and it doesn't just target @BAmazonUnion for propaganda. You're on the receiving end of those messages, too. That "news report" you watched about how cool an Amazon warehouse is? An ad disguised as news.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/05/28/holographic-nano-layer-catalyser/#quackspeak

Amazon workers in Germany have already unionized. The company can certainly pay living wages and continue to operate. It's not fighting for its life - its fighting to maintain incredibly high levels of profitability, no matter what the cost to workers and the world.

#pluralistic

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

May I have a scenario/imagine, whichever makes more sense, of Trey, Rook, and Crewel trying to tame some sort of wild, magical invasive species of Poison Ivy that has taken over the greenhouse?

Crewel gives me perpetually disappointed wine aunt father vibes. This piece also lowkey turned out to be Trey x Rook, but you didn’t read that from me.

This imagine’s longer than my usual 1k word self-imposed limit, since it goes out to a friend of mine that’s been supporting me through final projects and exams. I’m not sure if they’d want me tagging them so publicly, but they know who they are.

Imagine this...

To Professor Crewel’s chagrin, members of the Science Club had never had strong academic intent. In actuality, the club was a thinly veiled excuse to bake cakes (just to find the perfect ratio of leaveners and sweeteners!) and to stalk watch students in their natural habitats (nothing wrong with an impromptu observational study, right?). Instead of test tubes and beakers, the lab benches were littered with cake pans and photographs of unsuspecting Savanaclaw students.

“I do wish you two would take this club more seriously,” Crewel would often gripe, fingers massaging his temples. “Science is not a play thing, it is a powerful tool with which we can use to redefine and reshape the world around us.”

Such were the woes of an instructor--but today, he had no time to lament.

Crewel’s jaw tightened as he gazed upon a sprawling mess--the shattered glass panes of the Botanical Garden, with massive stalks of ivy reaching for the skies. Casualties lined the ground--plants and flowers drained dry of their life, all withered and decayed. The ivy writhed in glee.

(He shouldn’t have been surprised that the headmaster summoned him and the Science Club to resolve the issue instead of hiring a real exterminator.)

“How unseemly,” Crewel noted, clicking his tongue. “Running amok and ruining so many of the specimens we’ve carefully cultivated... This shall not go unpunished.”

He glanced over his shoulder.

“Clover.”

“Yes.” Trey stepped forward, his magical pen ready.

“Hunt.”

“Oui.” Rook followed suit, smoothly drawing forth his own pen.

“The time has come to prove your mettle,” Crewel announced, rapping his pointer against his palm. His onyx eyes seethed with a quiet, controlled rage. “Show this overgrown weed what the Science Club is truly capable of.”

At his command, the boys nodded and tore off toward the Botanical Garden.

Crewel held his ground. The corners of his mouth curled into a condescending smirk as he addressed the poison ivy. “Come here.”

An arm of ivy flew at him, so fast that it was but a blur.

An alive, but livid, blur.

“Heel!”

A column of fire erupted from Crewel’s pointer. His attack slammed against the plant, settings its leaves awash in embers. The rogue plant let out a sky-splitting roar.

The battle had just begun.

Trey ducked under an arc of burning ivy and threw open the door to the Botanical Garden. Tucking his limbs in, he barreled through right as more ivy snaked in to seal off the entrance once more.

He could feel the heat upon his back, the earth quaking under his feet, and Rook close behind him--yet he willed himself to keep his eyes glued ahead, even as he launched across the threshold and into a terrifying new realm.

The inside of the greenhouse now glistened with ivy--covering the glass panes, slowly strangling what few plants remained. The Botanical Garden had always been warm before, but it was unusually so today. Sweltering, and almost so humid that the floors and walls seem to eerily pulsate with life.

“Keep your wits about you, and don’t look back, boys,” Crewel had instructed them. “Just get in there, and cut it off at its source--at the heart.”

Trey’s eyes darted this way and that. Green, green, green. It all looked the same to him. Where in the world was the point of origin?

“Got any ideas?!” He glanced over his shoulder at his partner--and his protective goggles nearly went askew.

Rook had dropped to one knee, pressing a gloved hand against the floor--now a carpet of vines. “Hoooh! What a fascinating specimen!” he marveled. “Such destructive power, and yet it also sports this emerald sheen... Très manifique!”

“H-Hey... No offense, but I don’t think now’s the time to stop and sniff the roses. Or, well. I guess it would be ivy in this case.”

“Non, non! There is always time for beauty--even in dire situations!” Rook insisted, his hands continuing to grope around. His eyes suddenly creased, and his smile turned sly. “Ah, te voilà.”

“Even if you say that, that’s not going to help us fix this...!!”

“Calm yourself, Chevalier des Roses,” Rook advised with an airy laugh. He cupped a hand to his ear and beamed. “Listen closely! Surely even your own heart beckons you to still your worries.”

“Heart?” Trey straightened, adamant as he folded his arms. “Sorry, but I just don’t believe in stuff like that. Come on, Rook. We need to focus--Crewel-sensei’s trusting us with this task.”

He cast a concerned glance at the doorway, ensnared in vines. They’d have to blast their way through later--but if they stayed in this space for too long, they, too, would soon be drained of all their life force. “We can’t just mess around!”

“Ah--but you must put your faith in me as well, Chevalier des Roses!” Rook insisted, pointing to the patch of floor that he had been not-too-subtly groping earlier. “I implore you to lend me your strength!”

“You want me to attack the gr--?!” Trey froze mid-sentence. He had become vaguely aware of a gentle sensation creeping around his ankles.

In an instant, he was yanked into the air, dangling upside down like a useless rag doll. Blood rushed to his head, and his surroundings spun.

“Chevalier des Roses!!”

“I’m fine!! I-I’m fine!” Trey called--though he clearly wasn’t. “I can just--” He waved his magical pen, the air growing tense as a small ball of fire collected at his command.

“Non!” Rook warned, startling his classmate. “There is nothing to cushion your descent, mon amie! You will surely break a leg--and certainly not in the theatrical sense!”

He’s right. Trey’s fire extinguished itself, replaced by a chill crawling down his spine.

“A little help then?!”

Rook’s eyes widened. “You would give me your trust?”

“Not exactly like I have any other choice.” Trey would shrug, but it was a rather difficult motion to pull off while suspended midair--and far more troublesome, his veins ran cold. It was a sure sign of the ivy sapping his energy.

“Have no fear! Today, it shall be my turn to be the chevalier.” The hunter grinned from ear to ear, magical pen in hand.

“Please, Rook! Any day now--before I become plant food!” Trey’s voice was hoarse--from exasperation, or from the magical ivy, he wasn’t quite sure. Perhaps both.

“Just for today, I shall be your Chevalier D’amour.”

And with a confident wink, Rook plunged the ivy-covered floor into a sea of flames.

The accursed plant wailed as it shriveled to ash upon a backdrop of billowing smoke. Embers flickered and danced in the afternoon, the Botanical Garden set ablaze. Crewel took a step back, grimacing at the growing fire.

A figure emerged from the greenhouse, carrying another. The professor squinted into the smoke, pinpointing the familiar outline of his Science Club members--Rook, cradling a pale-looking Trey in his strong arms.

“Puppies.” Crewel pinched his temples.

“C’est chose faite--it is now done.” The brim of Rook’s hat eclipsed his eyes, making the typically cheery hunter appear dark to match his tone. Then he lifted his head, basking in the sunshine, and that somber moment was over. “All is well and good again, as it should be!”

“I... I thought I was going to die,” Trey groaned. “... And Rook, I appreciate you catching my fall, but you didn’t need to carry me out like you’re an action hero in a movie or something.”

“Are you able to still stand after an attack from that heinous plant?”

“Yeah. Just put me down.”

“Oui.”

Trey stood on shaky legs--and instinctively leaned on Rook’s shoulder.

“Well, boys. You’ve exterminated the ivy--as well as just about every other plant in the Botanical Garden. How exactly do you intend to atone for this?!” Crewel snapped, whipping his pointer at his students. “I believe my instructions were quite clear--destroy only the heart of the ivy.”

“The fault lies with me, Monsieur,” Rook declared, dipping into a bow. “We dallied for longer than was necessary, and in a moment of panic, I unleashed my magic.”

“Always one with a flair for the dramatic. Unfortunately, that will not serve you well in detention, Hunt.”

“Wait. Crewel-sensei, that’s not the whole story,” Trey interrupted. “Rook got me out of a pinch--and he deserves credit for that. He’s also the one that found out where the ivy’s heart was--buried in the floor itself. I didn’t realize until it was too late.”

The professor’s lips pursed into a straight line. “Clover, are you confessing to your own negligence?”

“I am.” He nodded firmly. “I’m the one that deserves the detention.”

“Trey-kun is not responsible!” Rook protested. “He is the one that attempted to set us on the right path. I refused to heed his advice, which led to events escalating.”

“I didn’t listen to Rook when he tried to tell me about what I needed to do.”

“I should have phrased it more concisely.”

“You--”

“Trey-kun--”

“Enough. It is clear to me that both of you contributed to this chaos.” Crewel sighed. “... Hunt, take Clover to the infirmary. I will put out the fire myself.

“... Are you letting us go?”

“Of course not. Once you’ve recovered, Clover... you boys will be restoring plants in the Botanical Garden for the remainder of the semester as punishment.”

“Ahhh, I should’ve known. Riddle’s not gonna like this at all.”

“Chin up, Chevalier des Roses! At the very least, we shall have each other’s company!” Rook laughs, smacking Trey on the back and sending his peer nearly doubling over.

Crewel sighed once more--he was disappointed, but not surprised.

His Science Club puppies still had a long way to go.

#twst #Divus Crewel #Trey Clover #Rook Hunt #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland requests #twisted wonderland scenarios #imagine this

[rolandtowen]

Prince Zuko was a harsh, entitled boy.

Firelord Zuko is a ruler who makes amends. - a study in the various side characters that Zuko came across in his banishment, and how he repays his past actions.

Read Chapter One on ao3 or under the cut! TW for referenced non-con and colonialism

[I believe @flamehotman and @flameomcfirey wanted to be tagged?]

Chapter One: Song

We will get there when we get there, don't you worry Feel bad about the things we do along the way But not really that bad We inhaled the frozen air Lord, send me a mechanic if I'm not beyond repair

- The Mountain Goats

It happened on a Tuesday afternoon.

Zuko was meeting with the agricultural council, a collection of both scholars and farmers, to discuss best practices for renewing the Fire Nations agricultural trade. For so many decades, the Fire Nation out-sourced its agriculture to land in the colonies and imported much of its food. But with the land being given back, the Fire Nation was either going to have to begin growing its own food again, or import their food at a fair price. The economic committee decided on Monday that reviving the Fire Nation farms would be far more cost effective - and of course, would create more jobs in the Fire Nation. With the war over, the number of soldiers that the military required had dropped dramatically, and there were many citizens without work. Zuko had instated severance benefits for unemployed soldiers - the ones not found guilty of war crimes of course, mostly the young recruits - but it couldn't last forever.

It was maddening. Every time Zuko unraveled one problem, he undoubtedly found or created another one. He was trying, really trying, to keep his people safe. But he also had a duty to the rest of the world. The nations that his lineage colonized, pillaged, and destroyed. He resists the urge to write to Aang, to ask him how he does it, how he balances all of the nations in every action he takes. But Aang is busy, all of his friends are, spread thin to the four corners of the world.

Uncle visits him occasionally, when the letters from staff concerned about Zuko's health pile up on his desk. One too many servants have found him, asleep at his desk, face down in treaty papers. But Uncle has his hands full. He already splits his time enough between the Jasmine Dragon and Ember Island, looking after Azula.

Azula.

She was improving, and that's really all Zuko can ask for. He sees her a couple of times a month, pours her a cup of tea, and they sit on the balcony of their vacation-house-turned-mental-retreat. Most of the time, they don't talk. Zuko won't push her; he remembers his silence in his first few months of being banished, how Uncle had to coax him to say anything at meals. Sometimes the only words he uttered in a day were in prayer before meditation. Zuko had thought to himself, speaking out got me into this mess: I'll never speak again.

He's not sure what words were exchanged between Azula and Ozai before he left her and went to burn down the Earth Kingdom, but he can guess it wasn't good. Few of his father's words were.

So they sit and drink their tea. Sometimes, on a good day, Zuko will fix up Azula's hair for her, and she'll reveal some bits of information that he files away for future examination. Something like, I saw Mom before you came with Master Katara. Or she'll double check her reality, asking, you let Ty Lee and Mai out of jail, right? and Zuko will say yes, her friends are safe, they should be visiting any day now.

As painful as seeing her may be, spending time with Azula is far preferable to sitting through an agricultural council meeting.

He looks down at the paper in front of him, a comprehensive budget list for all of the supplies needed to revitalize the Fire Nation's agricultural sphere. Dozens of machines that he's sure Sokka had a hand in inventing, hundreds of varieties of seeds that Omashu is generously selling to them, and -

Thousands of ostrich-horses.

"Councilor Yichen, can you elaborate on the number of animals in this budget? Certainly with the machines we'll provide, farmers will not need so many working livestock."

Councilor Yichen stands, giving a little bow in Zuko's direction. "Of course, Lord Zuko. While the machines will certainly boost productivity, we only have enough for one per farming village at this point. Each family needs at least one working animal, if not to plow the fields, then to transport goods. We decided on ostrich-horses on a recommendation from farmers in the Earth Kingdom colonies, who found them to be invaluable. An ostrich-horse is, in many ways, more valuable than a machine."

Zuko's stomach settles uncomfortably, but he isn't entirely sure why. "Thank you, Councilor. I understand now."

Yichen gives another little bow before he sits, and the rest of the meeting goes as planned, with the exception of a strange seed of unknown guilt now growing in Zuko's stomach.

"Uncle, do you remember when you made tea out of that poisonous plant?"

Uncle laughs, hands faltering as he pours Zuko a cup of jasmine tea. "I remember, Nephew. How could I ever forget?"

"Do you remember the girl who helped you?"

Uncle takes a sip of the warm tea. "Song. Her mother made the best roast duck." He looks at Zuko out of the corner of his eyes. "Why do you ask?"

Zuko looks out over the gardens. He's able to see the whole palace grounds from where they're seated on the second-floor balcony, watching the sun rise. As far as the eye can see, Zuko is upheld as a flawless ruler, his word taken as law. He's sick of it.

"I stole her ostrich-horse," he murmurs into his tea, taking a sip to calm his nerves. "I just remembered, in that agricultural meeting a few days ago. I - I never knew how essential those were to farmers, I just thought I was taking their ride." He turns to fully face his Uncle. "But I think I took a lot more than that."

Uncle meets his eyes with understanding. "And now you want to give it back."

"I know there's no way for me to fully apologize for how I acted in exile, but it feels like I have to try." The cup quivers a bit in his hands, and so his hands drop to his lap. "I'll need someone to watching over the Nation while I'm gone."

Uncle places one of his warm hands over Zuko's shaking ones. "I'm sure I can deal with your advisors for a few days." He squeezes his hand just slightly around Zuko's. "I'm proud to see that even in a few short months, your wisdom as a ruler is growing. Go, make your amends. The Nation will be here when you return." Uncle calls for Zuko's secretary and tells her to clear as much of the Firelord's schedule as she can for the next week. Their voices fade into the background as Zuko stares into his tea, wracking his brain to try and figure out how to track down just one girl in the entire Earth Kingdom. Sending scouts or soldiers from town to town is a recipe for disaster, and the Earth Kingdom villages have been traumatized enough. He supposes he could always call in a ride on his favorite air bison but - this feels like something he should do on his own.

If Song hates him, it might be hard for her to show it in front of the Avatar.

So he'll go alone. No friends, no royal guard. He'll come into Song's town the same way he came last time - defenseless. She can hate him if she wants, he'll give her that.

And he'll try to give back what he took from her.

He packs light, pulling an old tunic and boots from the back of his wardrobe. Though they've been thoroughly cleaned by the palace staff, the scent of campfires and smoke linger upon them. He grabs a cloak - the Earth Kingdom will be starting to chill at this time of year - and he slips out of the palace, using the servant's entrance to get onto the streets unseen.

Autumn comes quietly in the Earth Kingdom. The trees slowly lose their color, giving the last of their strength into vibrant leaves. Soldiers previously conscripted to fight in the war have either returned to their families or have gone to tend to the scorched earth where the Phoenix King made landfall. They clear the debris of fallen airships, making room for the earth to slowly restore herself.

Song envies those soldiers.

Their lives have changed with the ending of the war, but Song's life continues on, its mundane routine continuing over and over again. She cares for a small garden, crafts herbal remedies for her neighbors, and tries to make her mother comfortable. She curses the Spirits for their cruel sense of humor - her mother survives the greatest war ever seen, lives through the attempted invasion of her homeland, only to be struck down by frailty months after the end of it all. Hasn't she suffered enough? Song has whispered those words to the woods on her way to the well time and time again. Now, her body is just - stopping.

Her mother is dying and there's nothing she can do.

Song knows all living things have their time. And she's seen too many living beings go before their rightful time. But she never imagined her mother's time would be in a time of peace. Wasn't ending the war supposed to stop all this pain? Apparently not. She tries not to become bitter, knows that that's the last thing her mother would want for her, but - it hurts. And there's not a damn thing she can do about it.

The leaves from dying trees crackle under her feet.

She arrives at the well, alone. Her hometown is just barely beginning to wake up, rising from its slumber as mothers bring in dry clothes from the clotheslines and fathers begin to toil in the fields. Children run freely from street to street, with a joy that was forbidden during the Fire Nation's occupation. They're kicking at a ball, passing it from one pair of bare feet to another, and Song smiles at them. Someday, maybe.

She sets her water jug on the stone wall of the well and begins to lower the bucket before hearing the ball make impact and a man's voice grunt, "oof!". She spins rapidly around to see a young man, rear planted firmly in the dirt, one hand rubbing at his forehead while the other wipes at a watering eye. The group of children stand, frozen, and she gives them a look, and unspoken command to stay and apologize to the man they just hit with their ball.

"Here, take my hand," Song holds out her right hand, and the man takes it. When the young man meets her eyes, she almost drops him back in the dirt. He has those amber eyes, and she can just see under his loose hair - a burn scar. "Lee?!"

He stands, brushing dust from his cloak, and she catches the hints of red fabric that lie beneath. She recoils. He sighs. "Um, about that." Song sees his hands tremble against his cloak. "My name's not Lee - and I'm from the Fire Nation."

Song reacts as if she'd been slapped. She trips backwards, away from Not Lee, landing hard against the stone of the well. Her leg is aching, feels like its on fire all over again, looking into those amber eyes.

"How could you? I let you into my home." She braces her hands against the well, her leg threatening to give out at any moment. "Now it all makes sense, that you stole from me. That's all you ashmakers are good for." She spits, and it lands on his scarred cheek. "You take land that isn't yours, take women that aren't yours, you take lives!" Her leg finally collapses, and she sinks to the ground with her back against the well. Not Lee makes a move, and she throws her hands up. "Don't you touch me," she grits out, clutching at her leg. He stills, and she wraps her arms around herself, bringing her knees to her chest. "I pitied you, you know? I thought your mother must've been - I looked at your eyes and thought you were a victim like me, like my mother." Her whole body is trembling, but she doesn't care. "But I bet you know who your father is, I bet you're proud to have his eyes."

Not Lee mirrors her, curling in on himself, not even bothering to wipe his face clean. "I do know who my father is, but I'm not proud of him." He looks up to meet her eyes, and Song is struck by how young he looks. When she'd last seen him, he'd looked gaunt, malnourished, with sharp cheekbones. Now, his face had filled out and he looks - young? The scar makes him look older as well, but when you look on the opposite side of his face - all she can see is a kid, couldn't be older than a teenager.

And he was crying.

Stubborn as he is, Not Lee is resolutely ignoring the tears slowly falling from his eyes, but nevertheless - they fell. Song didn't expect that reaction. Tears are not what she expected from a Fire National. Anger, rage, violence - those are the things she's tasted at the hands of firebenders, but this? This is new.

"I'm sorry," Not Lee whispers, looking at his feet. "I came to apologize, I wanted to repay you for your kindness and return what I took. But I think I've overstayed my welcome." He scrubs at his face roughly with the heel of one hand. "But I am, truly sorry. I acted selfishly the last time I was in your home, and I took advantage of your compassion. And I understand that my nation has done even worse. I'm trying to make it better." He pulls his hair back with a band. "I know you have no reason to trust me, but I would like to purchase you a new ostrich-horse. And anything else you or your mother may require."

Without warning, Not Lee shifts from his seat position to a bowing one, kneeling with his head pressed to the dry earth. Song stares at him for a small eternity, before realizing that he's waiting, unmoving, for her response. For her judgement.

She lets out a small breath. "Okay," his eyes flick up to hers and her stomach twists. The way he bows is so precise - it must have been drilled into him hundreds of times before. Another thing she wouldn't have expected from a firebender. "Come to dinner."

He stands after she does and gives another slight bow. As they begin the walk back to Song's home, he offers to carry her water jug, and Song feels more weight than one lifted from her.

"What did you say your name was again, young man?" Mei pokes at Zuko's shoulder as she hobbles to the table.

"Mom, I'm sorry about her, she's getting older," Song sets a bowl of fragrant roast duck in front of him and Zuko feels his mouth begin to water.

"No, it's okay, I don't think I've actually properly introduced myself." He takes a quick sip of tea - bracing himself for whatever will happen next - and calmly sets the mug back down. "My name is Zuko," he begins slowly. "AndI'mkindoftheFirelord."

There's the sound of Song dropping a bowl in the kitchen, and Mei leans in a bit closer to Zuko.

"Sorry, dear, could you say that again? My ears aren't what they used to be."

Zuko opens his mouth to respond, but Song slowly enters the room, her eyes narrowed in on Zuko. "You said - you're the firelord?" He nods at her, waiting for her to swing a knife at him, kick him out of their home, call some earthbenders to rough him up -

Before his panic can start to set in, Song runs out the front door, slamming it behind her.

Zuko looks helplessly at Mei.

"Give her a moment." Mei brings her pair of chopsticks to her mouth. "Hmm, she still doesn't make it as well as I used to."

"What about you? Do you hate me?"

Mei sighs, putting her bowl down. "I'm too old for hate, dear. My time in this world is almost over. I can't spend it hating world rulers." She takes a sip of her tea. "But Song? She -" Mei sighs again. "She's been hurt deeply by the Fire Nation, in more ways than one. And it isn't just you. But for a long time, the monarchy has been the embodiment of everything terrible that's ever happened to her. And now you're here, standing in front of her."

Zuko nods. "I understand. And I am sorry, to you as well. I don't think I fully understood the reach of the war. I was always taught that the army acted with honor, that women and children were untouchable." He looks down at his folded hands. "I can see that was false."

"Unfortunately, you are correct." She reaches between them to refill Zuko's cup, then Song's, and hands them both to him. "Go to her. A bit of tea should help bring you some good favor."

The screen door opens and closes, and Zuko finds himself out on the porch. Song sits on the edge, absently massaging her leg, peering into the darkness of the forest.

"Can I join you?"

She shrugs, and he takes that as a yes. Handing over her tea, Zuko sits besides her and tries to find what she sees in the darkness.

For a few minutes, the only sounds are those of them drinking and crickets chirping. Then Song speaks.

"His name was Bao."

Treasured. Precious. Rare.

"That's a lovely name."

"What happened to him?" Song turns abruptly to look at him with shining eyes. "Did he...?"

Zuko shakes his head emphatically. "My Uncle and I traded him to a florist for safe passage to Ba Sing Se. The florist seemed like a good man."

"You went to Ba Sing Se?"

Zuko runs one hand down the back of his neck. "I might have conquered it, actually?"

Sing snorts. "That part I've heard about. You've lived an interesting life, Zuko."

"If by 'interesting' you mean messy, then yes." He sighs. "You had no reason to trust me. Why did you let me back into your home?"

Song laughs, tinged with bitterness. "My mother says I'm too trusting, too gullible." She swirls the dregs of her tea around the bottom of her cup. "But I think there's strength in being kind. And I really did want to forgive you. But you have to be ready."

"And do you think I am?"

She smiles softly at him. "For me, yes. But my guess is I'm not the only person you hurt in exile." She gulps down her remaining tea. "They may not be as forgiving as I am."

"I'm preparing myself for that possibility."

"Does it scare you?"

Zuko ponders it. "I think it does. The idea that I've hurt someone innocent so badly that they may never be able to move past it... that keeps me up at night."

Songs turns towards him, tucking her knees up to her chest. "We can't control how other people see us in this life. How they react to our actions is up to them - all that we can control is our response. You have to be ready to accept that someone may not be ready to forgive you, and you can't let that eat you up." She stares at him intently. "You have to confident that your own actions are enough. That they're good."

It's Zuko's turn to laugh sourly. "Easier said than done," his hand wanders to his scar. "Sometimes I'm still not sure if what I'm doing is right."

"You don't have to do it alone, you know," Song gives him an understanding look. "You need other people around you, Zuko, to remind you what's good."

He huffs, looking down at his hands, folded in his lap. "Do you want to be one of those people?"

"I think you have more than enough goodness surrounding you already. You just have to be confident enough to ask." She sighs, looking back out into the darkness. "Besides, I have to stay here with my mother. She doesn't have long."

"Are you sure there's nothing I can do? I could send my healers -"

She shakes her head, cutting him off midsentence. "It's her time." She begins to rub at her scars again. "I just didn't know how much it would hurt. We finally have some peace, and suddenly it's her time."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, not for this. It's due to you that she'll be able to die during peacetime." Her hands come to her eyes, wiping tears away before they can spill down her cheeks. "Her biggest fear was that she'd die and leave me alone to fend for myself during the war. You released her from that fear. Of course I forgive you, Zuko. My mother's no longer scared of dying because of you."

The two of them are silent for a long time, watching fireflies flicker off and on in the trees, listening to the crickets sing.

"I'm going to find Bao for you."

Song looks up in surprise. "You don't have to-"

"I want to, I'm sure he's still out there somewhere." Zuko rises from his seat. "If you ever need anything, anything, you write directly to me. I'll tell my staff that you're a priority."

"Are you leaving?" Song stands as well. "You could stay, if you want."

Zuko shakes his head silently. "I have to get back, and travelling by night is best for a Firelord who doesn't want his identity revealed," he smiles, his scarred skin relaxing into it. With that, he pulls his hair out of its topknot, grabs his pack and swords, and starts to disappear into the night.

"Firelord Zuko?" He stops and turns back at the sound of Song's voice. She makes the sign of the flame and bows. "Thank you, for everything." He bows back, lower than protocol dictates, but he doesn't care.

Three weeks pass, and the air has turned bitterly cold.

Song again makes her daily trip to the village well, with snow crunching under her feet instead of dead leaves. The soldiers have returned from their work in restoring fields for the season, and so the village feels alive when she steps into it. Despite the chill, children still run in the street, under the watchful eye of their mothers and fathers. Song feels a twinge of longing, but she tries to focus on the happiness she feels for the children instead. Song sets her water jug on the side of the well, breathing hot air into her palms to warm her hands after touching the freezing stone.

"Excuse me, miss, are you Song?" A voice comes from behind her, and she turns to see two men dressed in red tunics.

"I am," she replies, tucking her hands into the pockets of her hanbok. "And you are?"

They bow to her. "We come on behalf of Firelord Zuko, to deliver a gift." A third man rounds the corner with an ostrich-horse on a tether. "We found him at a desert settlement, he's been well taken care of, but if there's anything you need -"

They're cut off as Song runs to throw her arms around the neck of the ostrich-horse. "Bao!" She strokes his beak, looking into his eyes. "Do you remember me?"

Bao cocks his head to the side, pupils widening as he chirps softly, and then he lets out a loud whinny, pushing his head into Song's chest. He purrs, closing his eyes and relaxes against her.

"Sweet Bao, it's really me, you're really home," Song can feel her eyes dampening, but holds it together as one of the men hands her a bit of parchment.

"A note from the Firelord. He wanted us to remind you that you can write to him anytime you need anything."

Song nods. "And tell him I said 'thank-you' again." Bao whinnies loudly again, and she adds on, "Bao says 'thank-you' too."

"Of course, miss." With a synchronized bow, the men depart, and Song unrolls the parchment.

Song,

I've followed your advice and surrounded myself with good people. It helps.

Give my best to your mother - my Uncle still talks about her roast duck sometimes. I've established a fund specially for women and child victims of the war, inspired by some of what you and Mei shared with me. Write me if you feel like you or anyone in your village wants to apply for it.

And, thank you for trusting and forgiving me. I'll try to keep earning it.

May the Spirits continually bless you,

Zuko

She tucks the parchment into her pocket, fills her jug, and finds herself back in Bao's familiar saddle after more than a year. "Come on, Bao," she says as she takes the lead into her hands, guiding them back to the empty farmhouse.

"Let's go home."

[if you read through this whole thing, go drink some water! I'll know if u don't :) ]

#zuko fic #zuko is an awkward turtleduck #zuko is a good brother #azula #iroh #song #song's mother #tw noncon #tw colonialism #chronic pain #post-canon #post 100 year war #avatar #atla #zuko redemption #the last airbender #angst #angst and feels #angst with a happy ending #attempt at humor #forgiveness #healing #apologies #rolandtowen #char writes #gen fic

[itgetsdarksometimes35]

Day 3: Chris Beck- Daddy and Creampie

Warnings: Dub con, non con, forced pregnancy, breeding kink

Tags: @saiyanprincessswanie​ @mcudarklibrary​ @coconutqueen21​ @jtargaryen18​ @what-just-happened-bro​ @nsfwsebbie​ @bucksgoat​ @gigistorm​ @avengerimscreaming​ @venusavengers​ @saharzek​ @navybrat817​ @xoxabs88xox​ 

XXX

You and Chris worked together well. You and him had been co-workers for years for the Ares 3 mission. Your relationship was strictly professional, but you’d be lying if you both hadn’t snuck off during long training weeks to relieve some pent up energy.

You both had made it very obvious there were no feelings involved and that it was strictly a sexual relationship. He seemed fine with this, and you knew you were. You had bigger things to worry about, things far more important than a relationship. You and your team were on the brink of a breakthrough with the Mars trip being successful.

You were the team’s science officer as Beck worked at the surgeon. You both were to stay behind, you to research the planet and Beck to make sure you’re not hurt without proper assistance. You were to send weekly videos on the information needed for the arrival of permanent human life. 

Though it was a far-fetched dream, you wanted to find and grow enough organisms to start moving humans to the planet. After about 9 years on the planet, you were proud to say you had done just that. 

You excitedly turned on your computer to start a new weekly video, your mouth hurting from the uncontainable joy. “Good evening everyone, by the time this reaches you it should be morning, so good morning to you. I would just like to inform you all that the plants on the C-side of our inhabitants are growing enough oxygen to support 15 people, while the B-side and the D-side are able to hold 35. Side-A is not currently able to hold any form of life due to the temperatures still being too harsh, but I’m sure a weather modifier can be one of the first people on the shuttle here to start changing that safely. Chris and I happily await your arrival, and we hope to see you all soon. Bye-bye.” You smile and wave to the camera as you end the video, preparing it to be sent off. 

You thought about the number of people who would be here just in a few months. People of all ages and backgrounds had signed up to come, including children with their parents, so you could study how it would affect people of different ages, bodies, etc.

Just as you were walking out of your personal quarters, you bumped into Chris. “Oh, sorry about that,” he apologized, steading two mugs he held, “Tea?” You smiled at the raspberry tea he had become famous for making you every evening. 

“Thank you,” you happily grabbed one of the mugs and began drinking, “Just sent off the good news to base.” Chris raised his eyebrows before swallowing his own mouthful of tea.

“Are you excited?”

“You have no idea.”

“Yeah, it’ll be nice to have others around. Not that you’re not awesome.” Chris playfully elbowed you on the arm as you started leading him to the cameras in the kitchen. You wanted to check on the gardens and green life you had been nursing for the past 9 years.”

“No, I get it. I couldn’t have asked for a better partner on this, but man has it been a long nearly a decade.” Chris blew out a heavy sigh.

“God, has it really been that long? Seems like yesterday we got here,” you nodded your head as you checked off every camera for the night, “Well, I’m happy I spent it with you, too. How much you think we missed at home?” Now you let out a deep sigh.

“Who knows. The little information I’ve gathered hasn’t been too interesting, but I’m sure there’ll be something that’ll throw us off. You think socks with slippers are finally socially acceptable in public?” You looked down on your comfort shoes before meeting his eyes.

“If they haven’t, I think they’ll have to make an exception for you. You rock it so well,” he grinned at you. 

You laughed loudly, and he joined in. “Thank you, I’ll put in a good word for your stained shirts.” Chris mockingly rolled his eyes, causing another laugh to leave your lips, before he finished his tea. He took your empty mug to the sink as you got up to shower and prepare for the night. 

As you were in the shower you heard your door opening. “What the Hell, Beck, I’m in the shower.” your mind thought to the cameras in the bathroom that would no doubt see him walking in. Though the toilet and shower area were out of reach of the camera’s view, you still found the invasion too much. Sure they wanted to make sure you and Chris were staying strictly professional, you’d be lying if you said you and him didn’t turn off the cameras every once in a while to get in a quickie. 

You didn’t hear a response, so you opened the curtain to see nobody there. But your door was open. Huh, weird. Maybe he was just dropping something off? 

Once done in your shower, you made your way to your room and shrieked when you found Chris lying nude on the bed. “Chris, the cameras!” 

“Relax, babe, I turned them off. Think I’m a dumbass or something?”

You looked suspiciously at him for a second. “How, the cameras need a password that only I have.” It was your computer after all.

Chris reached for a slip of paper on the bedside table that wasn’t there before. It was the very one Dr. Grudge had given to you before the mission. “You hide everything in the same place. Under your sink isn’t the most clever hiding place, honey.” You rolled your eyes before shaking your head at him. 

“You’re something else, Beck.” 

“You love it. Now come on, it’s been two weeks, I’m hard as fuck, baby,” Chris pouted as he grabbed his massive member. You could feel your pussy clench at his words, and at how much you had missed him inside you. It had been a long two weeks.

You discarded the towel that covered your modesty, quickly climbing on the bed to straddle his hips. Chris hurriedly grabbed onto yours, both of you moaning in unison as you sunk down to his limit. 

“Fuck, daddy. You feel so good inside me,” you moaned as you found a rough but steady rhythm.

Chris growled, “Yeah? You like it when I fuck your tight little cunt? God, you’re so tight. I don’t think I’m fucking you enough, what do you think, hmm?” That’s when he took over and started thrusting up into you at a fast rate. The only sounds that could be heard were your loud moans of pleasure and skin against skin. If you listened hard enough, you could just barely hear the sounds of your pussy squelching around his dick. 

“Shit, I’m gonna cum,” you whined out. 

“Fuck, you’re squeezing me so hard, you wanna cum baby? Wanna cum all over my fat cock?” Chris’ thrusts got faster and harder as he reached a hand down to play with your clit. “Come on, honey, cum for me. Cum for daddy.” 

“Arg- oh God I’m coming!” you screamed out, drenching Chris in your juices. Chris continued to chase his own pleasure, you still trying to recover from the powerful orgasm. You tried to lift yourself from you to help him cum elsewhere, but Chris’ grip on you never faltered. 

“Let me cum inside you, I wanna feel your tight walls around me as I dump my load into you.” You quickly dropped from your post-orgasmic state at his words. You shook your head hurriedly. 

“No, you know I’m not on birth control,” you couldn’t have them due to them being destroyed on the journey here, “Pull out!” The pull-out method wasn’t the best plan, but it had been working just fine for the past 9 years. You couldn’t risk a pregnancy ruining the progress you had made, the academy would no doubt fire you both. 

“I spoke to Mark the other day, they lifted that rule a little while ago now,” Chris grunted, his orgasm was getting close, “With them sending supplies I figured we could easily get something to prepare for a baby. They’ll be here in what? 6 at most 8 months. You’ll still be pregnant with my baby by then. Our baby.” 

You shook your head. This was madness, even if the rule wasn’t in force you were in no place to have a baby right now. You still wanted to further your career, and you certainly didn’t want to have a baby with Chris. He was a good man, but you couldn’t see yourself with him in that position. 

“Chris, stop. This isn’t funny, let go now. I won’t tell anyone you did this if you stop now.”

Chris just laughed at you, “Can’t do that, baby. I want you to make me a real daddy, I’ve waited long enough. We’re. Perfect. For. Each. Other.” Each word was accompanied by a hard thrust, soon you felt warmth flooding your channel. “Fuck! Take it, take my load.” Chris continued pushing his cum further into you, working himself down his high. 

Chris held you to him as he stayed inside you. He stroked your back as he slowly pulled out of you, forcing your limp body into a position on your stomach. You were too numb to fight back, tears were starting to form in your eyes that you quickly blinked away. 

“You’re gonna be such a good mom, I can see it now,” Chris mumbled as he cupped your stomach before shoving his hardening cock back into you. This was going to be a long next few months. 

#itgetsdarkspookychallenge #mcudarklibrarykinkmonth

[bedlamsbard]

Part 13 of the other side AU concept!  I am going to eventually pull these apart into parts one (Devil’s in the Details) and two (Carry the Fire) and do edits/rewrites to the extent they meet my standards for going up on AO3 as chaptered, titled fics, but I don’t currently have the mental and emotional energy for that.  (Have you...met January 2021?)  In the meantime here are my in-progress playlists, if there’s interest: Devil’s in the Details and Carry the Fire.

About 5.8K below the break.

*

Zeb got up to keep watch, since he had the best ears of the group; Kanan took his place on the tree root and Ezra leaned back to keep his head tipped against Kanan’s knee, barely able to comprehend that single point of connection.  Kanan’s presence radiated through the Force with startling solidity, as if after years of shadows someone had suddenly turned on a light in a dark room. Ezra had to fight back his urge to roll around in that strength like an overjoyed Loth-cat in a patch of sunlight.

“I don’t know exactly what happened when the Chimaera went down,” he said eventually.  He hesitated, not wanting to get into the fact that at the time he had still been locked in his cell.  He didn’t think he could get away without telling them that at all, but he didn’t want to lead off with it if he could help it.  “I wasn’t up in the bridge – Thrawn and Pellaeon didn’t really want me near anything important.  What I heard later was that the Vong tricked the Scylla and the Charybdis – they’re the only other ships left in the Seventh – into leaving the Chimaera, and once the cruisers were out of reach they hit the Chimaera with everything they had. Their ships aren’t like ours,” he added slowly. “They’re living things, for one – I have no idea how that works.  They’re not shielded, but they’ve got some kind of – of miniature black holes that move around on their ships, swallowing up most shots before they can get through at all.  Dovin basals, that’s what they call them.  TIE pilots don’t know how to deal with them – ship gunners either, for that matter.  I don’t know how they work; the Chimaera’s scientists were trying to figure it out.”

He glanced over at Sabine in time to see her eyebrows snap together, obviously trying to work it out for herself without even having seen one.  She still had the piece of broken beskar in her hand, like she couldn’t comprehend what had happened to it.

“The Chimaera had already taken a lot of damage by the time the Vong started boarding,” Ezra went on slowly.  “Zafira – that’s the death trooper captain – let me out around then, but I was never on the bridge or anything.  I guess Thrawn had the idea that the Vong ships might not be able to survive in atmosphere since they’re alive and they live in space, so he started bringing the Chimaera down into the planet’s atmosphere.”

Sabine whistled softly. “Did it work?”

Ezra shrugged. “You saw the Chimaera.”  He was quiet for a moment, remembering the desperate battle in the narrow corridors of the star destroyers – lights flickering as power was cut off, then restored, emergency notifications about hull breaches still blaring out absurdly over the sound of blasterfire and Vong war cries.  He would have given his right hand for his lightsaber.

He swallowed past the lump in his throat and went on, “Thrawn sent Pellaeon and some of the other bridge crew to the auxiliary bridge so that they weren’t in the same place. I know they were arguing about it – I think Pellaeon wanted to evacuate and Thrawn still thought he could win.”

“Zeb and Chop and I searched the bridge,” Sabine said.  “There wasn’t much of it left.  We had to get into the communications room computers.”

Ezra nodded. “Yeah.  I was with the death troopers – we ran into Pellaeon on his way down to the auxiliary bridge and stayed with him. The Vong took Thrawn, the rest of the bridge crew, others – there’s no accurate count on how many died and how many the Vong took captive.”  He resisted the urge to say that as far as he was concerned, the Vong were welcome to keep Thrawn; with his luck they’d team up and that was the last thing he wanted or needed.  “No one was in the auxiliary bridge when the bridge went; by the time we got there it was too late to pull the Chimaera up.  Pellaeon ordered the evacuation then; the Vong were already pulling out.  I guess they got what they wanted.  By then the Scylla had come back; Charybdis was still trading punches with the Vong out in space.”

He pulled his legs up and rested his chin on his knees.  He didn’t think he would ever forget the sight of the Chimaera crashing, which he had seen from one of the evacuating gunships.  The shock wave when the star destroyer had struck the ground had tossed the gunships around with toys; two of them had crashed into each other and exploded. Even the Scylla, making a reckless atmospheric approach in an attempt to save as many of the Chimaera’s crewmembers as it could, had been thrown aside.  Ezra never wanted to give Imperial any more credit than necessary, but the fact that Commander Kisujo had kept the Scylla from crashing was probably a minor miracle, especially given how much damage the cruiser had already sustained.

“Pellaeon went back afterwards to look for survivors,” Ezra said eventually. “There weren’t any. There were Vong hunting parties all over the place, though, seeding their blasted worldshaping plants.”

Hera stirred. “Those are the plants all over the Chimaera?  We thought the ship must have been there for years until we got into the computers.”

Ezra nodded. “This planet is already pretty close to what they like in a world –”  He gestured at the jungle that sat heavy and waiting all around them, “– but I guess they do it as a matter of course whenever they’re grounded for a while.  Change the chemical composition of the atmosphere, the groundwater, destroy anything that looks like technology, enslave the natives – I don’t think this place has any, though.”

“So what are you doing out here?” Zeb asked over his shoulder.

“Looking for the Vong,” Ezra said.  He rubbed his aching shoulder, where a Vong warrior had slammed him into a bulkhead on the Chimaera, and which had gotten further banged up when the shock wave from the Chimaera’s crash had tossed them his gunship around like confetti. Getting thrown into that tree hadn’t helped it either, nor did it help that it was the same shoulder he had been shot in six years ago.  “Pellaeon thought he’d send someone who actually had a chance at making it back. And who he didn’t mind losing,” he added sourly. “TIE patrols spotted the Vong camp out this way – or the one who made it back said so, anyway.  Pellaeon wants Thrawn back for some reason.  And the rest of the crew, I guess.  Even if they’re Imps they don’t deserve what the Vong will do to them.”

He fell silent, thinking about some of the holos he had seen of Vong-controlled planets the Chimaera had found.  He had only been allowed groundside on one of those occasions, when Thrawn had decided he wanted to see what a Force-user would make of it, and he’d wanted to claw his own skin off within minutes of touching down.

“This isn’t the invasion fleet,” he said eventually. “I don’t know where they are.  Thrawn thought it was some kind of advance scout fleet to figure out how hard the Vong would have to hit the Empire.”

Hera exchanged a look with Kanan over Ezra’s head.  Sabine and Zeb both swore, Sabine in Mando’a, Zeb in Lasat.

“What?” Ezra said. “What did I miss?  Uh, besides everything that happened in the last six years.  You can just give me the highlights.”

Sabine rested the piece of beskar on her knee and ticked them off on her fingers. “Tarkin’s dead, Vader’s dead, the Emperor’s dead, Alderaan got blown up, the Empire’s in pieces but Palpatine still tried to destroy it from beyond the grave, the New Republic’s being run by idiots.  Did I forget anything?  Oh, the Jedi are back but all they do is argue about doctrine.”

Kanan sighed. “That’s an oversimplification.”

“Wait – what?” Ezra said.

“Not everyone on the Provisional Council is an idiot,” Hera said.

“Wait, what?”  Ezra felt like he had just been hit with a very large brick. “Palpatine’s dead?” he said, focusing on that.

“Probably,” Zeb said. “Skywalker’s the only one who saw it happen.”

“Who’s – wait, like Anakin Skywalker?  But he’s –” He stopped abruptly, remembering what had happened on Malachor.

There was an awkward silence shared between Kanan and Hera; Zeb and Sabine just looked at each other and shrugged.  Sabine said, “If Palpatine was still around there wouldn’t be a dozen warlords – mostly former Imperials – running around trying to carve up the Empire between them.”

“Yeah, and maybe the Provisional Council would stop arguing with each other,” Zeb grumbled.

“The Jedi?” Ezra said a little wildly.

“Yeah, all three of them,” Zeb said.

“I’ll explain later,” Kanan said quickly. “It’s not quite as dramatic as it sounds.”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you about the Death Star,” Sabine said. “Mark one and mark two.”

“The what?”

“Let’s focus on our current situation, shall we?” Hera said quickly.

“Don’t even get me started on Mandalore.”

“I’ve always tried not to!”

“Hera went to another universe.”  Sabine considered. “And she has a baby.”

“What?”  Ezra almost fell off the tree root twisting around to look at Kanan and Hera.

Hera bit her lip. “Jacen’s not a baby, he’s six,” she said.  She looked at Kanan and smiled, soft and fond.  “He’s back on Ryloth with my father.”

“I need a drink,” Ezra muttered, then, louder, “Congratulations.  Wait, you, went to another universe?”

“Kanan too,” Sabine said. “Oh, Ahsoka’s back too, but that was a while ago.”

Ezra rubbed at his forehead. “Okay, can we catch me up later?”

“The relevant part is that neither the Imperial Remnant nor the New Republic is in any position to repel a full-scale invasion,” Hera said.  She sighed.  “The only reason the New Republic let us come out here – officially, I should say – is because there have been rumors about Thrawn for years.  If he’s in contact with anyone in the Remnant –”

Ezra shrugged. “Believe me when I say that I’m the last person Thrawn ever talked to.  About anything.”

“How much of the Seventh is left?” Kanan asked.

“The Scylla and the Charybdis are the only ships left, and they both got pretty beat up in that last fight with the Vong,” Ezra said, thinking back.  Pellaeon didn’t tell him much more than Thrawn did, but he had seen the makeshift command post in the Scylla before he’d left.   “Everyone’s taken pretty heavy losses since Lothal –”  He looked up suddenly, his heart in his throat. “Lothal –”

“Fine,” Sabine reassured him quickly. “Ryder’s governor again, everyone’s fine, Loth-cats as far as the eye can see.”

Ezra’s shoulders slumped in relief.  Eventually, he said, “At least ten thousand back at Chimaera Camp and on Scylla and Charybdis, but I don’t think they’ve got more than fifteen thousand left altogether.  I guess it depends how many the Vong took off the Chimaera.”

Kanan drew in his breath sharply.  Ezra couldn’t blame him; the Chimaera’s full muster was for forty thousand, but it hadn’t held that many people since well before the purrgil had reduced it substantially.  Most star destroyers, Pellaeon had remarked once, seldom held a full muster unless they were expecting to go into battle; in the normal course of things a star destroyer simply didn’t actually need nearly ten thousand stormtroopers who would do nothing but take up resources and start fights.

“That many troops plus the cruisers is enough to give any of the warlords a leg up on the others,” Sabine said practically. “Even without a star destroyer – or Thrawn, for that matter, I can’t see him letting Isard or Zsinj hold his leash.”  When Ezra frowned at her, she clarified, “Those are two of the warlords running around making trouble.  Isard used to run the ISB, Zsinj is just annoying.”

“He’s gotten a lot of people killed,” Zeb said harshly. “That’s more than ‘just annoying.’”

Sabine made a gesture of apology.  When Ezra looked uncertainly between them, Zeb explained, “Before I volunteered for this, I was with New Republic Special Forces – the Pathfinders, not the droppers. The droppers are all crazy.”

Ezra filed that away to ask about later.

Kanan and Hera shared one of those silent moments of communication that Ezra had been so familiar with half a decade earlier, then Hera said, “We’ve stayed here too long already. Ezra, were you on your way to or back from the Yuuzhan Vong encampment?”

“To.  I know about where it is.  And I can’t sense the Vong –”  He glanced at Kanan and saw the older man’s nod, acknowledging that it wasn’t any fault in Ezra’s command of the Force, “– but I can sense the captives they’ve got.  And what they’re doing to this planet.”

Kanan nodded again, his expression grim.

“Will you take us there?” Hera asked. “We’d better see this, and then we can decide what we’re going to do. Regardless, the New Republic has to know.”

Ezra nodded, a little puzzled at the odd tone in her voice, then realized abruptly what might be going through her head right now.  “I’m not one of them,” he said. “I didn’t switch sides.  It wasn’t all awful, but I spent most of the past six years in a cell except when Thrawn decided to haul me out in case having a Force-user around helped.  No one on the Chimaera ever forgot whose fault it was they were out there,” he added, gritting his teeth against the sudden quaver in his voice.  He touched a finger to the white streak in his hair; it was probably invisible in this poor light, but it was part of the reason he kept most of his hair cropped short these days.  “I got this the last time some of them decided I should pay for that and shot me in the head.  That was the fourth time someone tried.  Thrawn executed a hundred and thirty-seven people for it, including all the death trooper officers.”

He heard Zeb’s growl, low and furious, and the leather of Sabine’s gloves creak as she closed a fist.

“I’m not an Imperial,” Ezra said, fisting his own hands against his knees.  He had nightmares about that day sometimes, about getting dragged out of his cell and down to the starboard hangar bay; the death trooper commander, who had been in charge of the attempted lynching, had wanted as many crewmen as possible to see it.  Ezra had heard later that there had been a significant number of the conspirators who had wanted to execute Thrawn as well, blaming him for bringing Ezra onboard, getting them lost in the Unknown Regions, and attracting the attention of the Yuuzhan Vong.  As it was, Thrawn, Pellaeon, and most of the other senior officers who weren’t also in on the conspiracy had been locked in one of the conference rooms before they had managed to get out.  He had found out later that Thrawn had actually wanted to execute more of the conspirators, but had decided not to under the circumstances.  As a result Ezra had spent most of his time in the medbay worried that one of those who had escaped the executions would come after him to finish the job.

He looked at Kanan, knowing that he would be able to sense it even if he couldn’t see it, and added, “I’m still a Jedi.”

“I know,” Kanan said, reaching down to squeeze Ezra’s shoulder.

Ezra felt something tight inside him unknot.  He reached up to grasp Kanan’s fingers, feeling sick with relief.

“I believe you,” Hera said. She looked over his head to Kanan, who nodded in response. “I believe you,” she repeated.  “We’ll have a job of it convincing New Republic Intelligence, but let’s not borrow trouble before we have to.”

*

Before they left, Ezra found his sniper rifle and the sheared-off barrel.  He handed the barrel to Sabine so that she could inspect the severed edge, comparing it to the dead amphistaff, and broke down the rifle until it was in its heavy blaster pistol configuration.  He packed the rifle components away rather than leave them there; the machinists back at Chimaera Camp would either be able to repair them or use them for another purpose.  The pistol went on his belt in the holster he had brought in case he needed to use it in that configuration.

Sabine returned the barrel to him and regarded the amphistaff’s corpse thoughtfully.  Ezra had already tried and failed to get his vibroknife out of its neck, to his disgust.

“Can I take this with us or can they track it?”

“No idea,” Ezra said. “It’s never come up before.”

“Don’t take the risk,” Hera said.

Sabine sighed regretfully but admitted, “I’m guessing this isn’t the last time we’re going to run into these things.”

“The Vong are worse than grass ticks,” Ezra said, looking around until he found where he had dropped his night vision goggles.  When Zeb reached for them, Ezra shook his head and explained about the amphistaff poison, which had already eaten through the lenses and left a brown patch on the ground where the goggles had lain.  Ezra wouldn’t touch them again; he had seen too many people die from a drop of it on bare skin.  It ate through stormtrooper armor only a little more slowly than it did cloth.  At least five people from the Chimaera had had limbs amputated where they must have touched somewhere it had been, even if the venom itself was no longer visible.

“I’m really starting to dislike these things,” Zeb growled.

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” Ezra said.  He looked around until he saw the thud bug that the Vong warrior had thrown at him early in the fight, and found it lodged into the thick bark of one of the nearby trees, which must have prevented it from returning to the warrior the way most thud bugs did.  The fact that it hadn’t taken a chunk out of the tree impressed him, since he had seen them rip holes in durasteel plating a few times.  That must have been very hard wood.

He pointed the thud bug out to Zeb and Sabine; Kanan and Hera were talking quietly to each other a little ways away.  “We’ve been calling them thud bugs – they’re some kind of beetle; they can change their gravity somehow to hit incredibly hard.  The Vong throw them – razor bugs too.  That name’s probably self-explanatory.”

Sabine fingered a scratch on what remained of her armor.  She looked oddly unbalanced without the missing portion of her breast plate, which she had stowed in one of her hip-pouches. “Ran into a couple of those. Lightsaber goes through them,” she noted, glancing at Kanan.

“Does it go through the armor?” Ezra asked curiously, hoping the answer was yes.  He would feel better to know that something did.

She and Zeb both shook their heads. “Kanan’s real good at finding soft and tender places, though.”

Kanan turned his head at the sound of his name.  Ezra felt the flicker of his attention at the edge of his mind; he hadn’t been listening in on their conversation.  He was exquisitely aware of Kanan’s presence now that he knew the other man was there; if he had been paying more attention he might have realized when the Ghost arrived in-system.  As it was, he had had his mind focused on the area immediately around him, trying to make certain that the animals and plants of the planet would tell him the Yuuzhan Vong crept up on him.  He hadn’t flung his mind wide into the Force.  No one on the Chimaera was Force-sensitive; the Empire screened even the weakest Force-sensitives out of the service.

He might have been more concerned about the way his awareness of Kanan’s presence was blotting out his awareness of the rest of the Force, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Kanan was here.  All he wanted to do was creep over to Kanan’s side and bask in the sheer strength of his presence in the Force, like a Loth-cat in a patch of sunlight.

They left soon afterwards. Ezra took the lead with Zeb, wishing for the night vision goggles but knowing he didn’t need them.  Even before Malachor he had trained blindfolded with Kanan – which he still remembered vigorously protesting at the time – and afterwards he had worked twice as hard at it, even though he had never told Kanan as much.  He didn’t need his eyes when he had the Force, and with all his attention on the Force, the planet itself would tell him if the Vong were approaching, let alone Zeb’s sensitive ears and nose.  Zeb had confided to Ezra that this planet reminded him of Lasan before its fall – Lira San, he had said, was nice enough, but somewhere between too similar and not similar enough to be comfortable for long.  If Lira San was anything like, Ezra didn’t want to visit; he had already had enough of jungle planets and this was the only one he had been to.

He pushed his awareness of Kanan’s nearness to the back of his mind with a force of effort.  Six months ago he had woken up from a sound sleep, shocked and shaking and knowing that some essential truth of the universe had just changed.  Since it had happened he had touched that knowledge a hundred times a day, trying to work it out without having any way to do so.  He had spent long hours in meditation, reaching out into the Force and falling just short every time.  He had thought he might go mad with frustration.  Thrawn, who never missed anything, had certainly noticed, even if Ezra had refused to say what had caused his sudden discontent.  If Ezra had thought that there was any way he could get back to known space on his own, he might have made a break for it.  He had considered it – Thrawn had certainly made the point enough that as a Force-user Ezra should have been able to – but by the time he had nerved himself up for it the Vong had begun hunting them in deadly earnest.

Being back here with them felt odd.

Ezra had certainly dreamed about it enough times, and if he hadn’t been so aware of his bad shoulder he might have thought that he was back on the Chimaera, sound asleep.  He knew it was a danger, too; that his awareness of them ran the risk of distracting him at a crucial moment.  As much as he pushed his knowledge of their presence away, trying to keep his mind only on the simple facts rather than the emotions involved, he knew he was putting them all at risk.  He had to trust that between the five of them, they would be able to tell if Vong warriors searching for their missing patrol approached.

It took the better part of three hours before they reached the edge of the jungle.  Halfway through, Ezra and Kanan both sensed the passage of another Vong patrol – sensed the wildlife and plant life reacting to it, rather – but the warriors were far away and showed no sign of approaching them. Dawn was filtering through the forest canopy in a gray-green haze as they ghosted up to the edge of the tree line. Like the path Ezra had taken earlier, the jungle ended barely a meter short of the cliff-face, forming a kind of bowl around the valley below.  Ezra eased forward on his belly, pulling the riflescope out of his pack.  He could sense the passage of another Vong patrol on the rim of the cliff, but it wasn’t near enough to be concerned with unless they were here for a while.  He didn’t intend to stick around longer than he could help it.

The valley below boasted a kidney-shaped lake with large patches of some kind of plant life growing on the surface – Ezra reached out curiously with his mind and winced when he realized that they were Vong rather than native.  The jungle around it had been cut back to make space for what he thought were either structures or grounded ships, all of them looking out of place here – not quite the right color or texture, with shapes that were subtly off enough to make him wince.  He counted several dozen that looked like enormously oversized snail shells, a kind of orange-y green with a faint oily sheen to them. Something else, as large as a cruiser, he thought might be a grounded ship; its material was something like coral, or at least that was what it looked like through his riflescope.

Figures moved through the structures and ships – a few he recognized as Vong warriors, each of them unique in their vonduun crab armor; others were Vong from the different castes. He could sense humans down there, the prisoners taken off the Chimaera, but couldn’t spot them.

Sabine and Hera eased up on either side of him, Hera with a pair of macrobinoculars and Sabine with her rangefinder lowered.  Ezra didn’t have to turn his head to know that Zeb and Kanan were hanging back, keeping watch against a Vong patrol.

Keeping his voice barely more than a whisper, Ezra pointed out the grounded cruiser-analogue, then the coralskipper starfighters that passed by overhead before landing alongside the starship.  He hadn’t seen them in person before, just in holograms.

“Fast?” Hera asked him very quietly.

“About the same as a TIE, I think,” he murmured back. “They’ve got dovin basals – miniature black holes – like the cruisers, too, so it doesn’t really matter.”

“Hmm.”

He had to grin at the hint of considering challenge in that syllable.  If anyone could not only outfly a coralskipper solo but also shoot it down – the TIEs and handful of remaining TIE Defenders had to go after them in swarms – then it was Hera.

After a brief moment of hesitation, Ezra reached out with the Force, sorting through the thousands of human minds as he searched for the alien one.  He couldn’t sense the Vong and their living tools at all.

“Thrawn’s there,” he said after a moment, not bothering to conceal his disappointment the way he had done when Pellaeon had asked him to find out if the grand admiral was still alive. He was pretty sure Pellaeon had been able to tell his feelings anyway, but it was the principle of the thing; Pellaeon was fully capable of having him shot as more trouble than he was worth.

Sabine snorted softly. “Might have saved us some trouble if he was dead,” she grumbled.

“Tell me about it,” Ezra muttered back.  He peered through the riflescope again, letting the Force direct him.  The shell-structures seemed to be where the prisoners were being kept, Thrawn among them.  He couldn’t tell exactly which one Thrawn was in, but he supposed that when the Imperials went after him they would probably want to break all their missing troops out as well, since it would be about as much trouble.  Unless Pellaeon tried to make him do it on his own, of course, Ezra thought, and started to grimace at the thought before he realized abruptly that that was no longer an option Pellaeon had.

He was reaching back reflexively for Kanan before he even realized he was doing so, his mind brushing against Kanan’s in the Force for a brief instant of reassurance.  He felt Kanan’s response as if his master had gripped him briefly on the shoulder, calm and collected, though he knew Kanan hadn’t moved from his sentry position.  Ezra turned his face down, his eyes burning with unshed tears.

Sabine elbowed him gently. “Hey,” she whispered. “It’s all right.  We’ve got you.”

Six years ago Ezra might have said something like you took your time about it, but he just nodded.  If they could have come sooner they would have, and if they had come sooner, then Kanan – Kanan might not be back.  Six years in the Unknown Regions with Thrawn and his merry band of sociopaths was a sacrifice he was happy to make for Kanan’s return.

They watched the Vong camp for another two hours, watching the mist burn off the lake as the sun rose. Some of the lower caste Vong went into the shell-structures, probably to feed the Imperial prisoners; none of the Imperials came out.  Ezra did a rapid estimate with the Force and came up with somewhere between three and four thousand prisoners, which he supposed would make Pellaeon happy; the worst case scenario had been that all the crewmembers unaccounted for from the Chimaera were dead.  Hera didn’t look thrilled when he conveyed this information to her.

“Well, we’re not putting them all on the Ghost, that’s for sure,” Zeb grumbled; he was close enough to overhear.

All Hera said was, “I suppose we’ll have to talk to Captain Pellaeon.”

Not long after this exchange, Kanan said softly, “There’s a patrol about two klicks west of us.  We’d better clear off, if you’ve got all you need.”

“Not all we need, but all we’re going to get, I think,” Hera murmured.  The three of them retreated from the cliff face into the cover of the jungle.

Ezra got to his feet, wincing at muscles that had gone sore after two hours lying on the ground. Kanan was still sitting cross-legged on the forest floor, facing away from them with his eyes closed and his expression calm.  Ezra was barely aware of stepping towards him until he found himself reaching down to touch Kanan’s shoulder, wanting to reassure himself of Kanan’s presence. Kanan turned his face up towards him, opening his eyes, and smiled.  Ezra drew his hand back, embarrassed, then grabbed Kanan’s forearm to help pull him to his feet, the hard edges on Kanan’s bracer digging into his fingers.

Despite their precarious position, Ezra still rather wanted to drape himself on Kanan’s neck and weep.

Hera came up behind him and put a hand briefly on his shoulder. “Let’s get out of here before Chopper decides to take the Ghost and come find us,” she said.

Ezra nodded, then nearly had a heart attack as Zeb ghosted out of the jungle to join them; his purple fur and green bodysuit and armor blended in perfectly with the foliage.  If this was true of all the Lasat Ezra was definitely never going to Lira San.

They left silently, moving through the undergrowth with surprising delicacy for the size of their group.  Ezra, reaching out with the Force, found the passage of the same Vong patrol that Kanan had sensed.  If the disappearance of the patrol they had killed had been noted, it wasn’t evident from the way the Vong had acted.  Ezra would have thought that they would have had better security, but apparently not. Either that, or the Force had led them to avoid it on their approach.

The sun continued to rise steadily as they made their way single-file through the jungle.  Zeb took point this time, with Sabine just behind him. While Zeb blended into the forest around them, the sunlight through the tree canopy dappled Sabine’s armor as she moved through it; Ezra couldn’t decide what colors it was and suspected he wouldn’t know for sure until they were back at the Ghost.  Kanan and Hera brought up the rear, nearly soundless though Ezra was excruciatingly aware of Kanan’s presence.

After a sleepless night and a fight with the Vong, not to mention the intense emotion of the past few hours, he was so tired that he was nearly delirious with it.  Everything had taken on a slightly bright edge; he could have fought if he had to, but he was just as glad for the moment that neither the Vong nor the native wildlife crossed paths with them.  After almost a full day out here, he was also extremely aware of the fact that he had spent most of the past six years locked in a cell, with only occasional breaks to go nearly get killed, either by the Imperials or by whoever they happened to be fighting at the moment.  He was almost tired enough that the cell was starting to sound appealing.

 The day wore on, the heat and humidity growing steadily.  Ezra kept his weary eyes on Sabine’s gaudily painted jetpack in front of him; it wasn’t the same color that it had been six years earlier – he would have been shocked if it had been – but the basic winged design was more or less the same, though he could spot differences.  He was so focused on that to stay on his feet that he didn’t realize they had reached their destination until the flicker of movement behind transparisteel caught his eye.

Ezra stiffened, his hand going to his blaster.  It took him a few moments for his gaze to focus; he was expecting nothing more than the endless expanse of forest, not the Ghost parked in a clearing just barely large enough for the ship.  He stared blankly at the ship, unable to believe that it was actually here after so many years.

Kanan closed a hand on his shoulder as the ramp unfolded.  Chopper, apparently unchanged from the last time Ezra had seen him, appeared at the top of the ramp, waving one of his manipulators and shouting in annoyance about how they had gone for hours, they could have died, how dare they leave him all alone.  He stopped midway through his tirade, apparently having spotted Ezra.

Kanan pushed Ezra forward gently.  Hera was walking past him, her own shoulders slumping with weariness; Sabine paused to turn on one foot, her gaze traveling over the clearing.  Zeb was already on his way up the ramp with a comment to Chopper.

Ezra took one step forward, then another one.  Chopper came down the ramp towards him as he reached it, chirping a cautious question.

“Yeah,” Ezra said. “Yeah, it’s me.”

He started to kneel down so that they were on the same level, then overbalanced and sat down hard instead.  Chopper rolled up to him, close enough to touch but not doing so.  Ezra reached out, hesitating for an instant before he laid his hands on Chopper’s chassis.  The metal was warm to touch, the pain smooth beneath his fingers except where it was starting to chip away.  He could feel the hum of the droid’s inner workings against his palms.

“Yeah, Chop,” he said again, and started to cry, his head bent forward against Chopper’s dome so that none of the others could see. “It’s me.  It’s me.”

#other side au tag #cut scenes and concept writing #as always comments are appreciated #there's less in the details playlist because I'm working on the fire part of the story at present

[ozarkhealingtraditions]

Animism and Environmental Protection

More articles on my website! 

Animism lies at the heart of Ozark folk belief, although it’s a modern word you probably won’t hear many of the old timers using. In the mountains, this worldview manifests as a deep connection to the land, in particular the local bioregions that surround the individual and community. Old trees, caverns, natural springs, rivers, etc. are viewed not as lifeless land features, but rather as unique personalities with their own lifecycles and souls. Solitary trees in fields are often said to be protected by the “Little People” or Ozark land spirits, akin to the fairies from across the Celtic world, brought to these lands in the hearts of believers. Old growth trees hold their own roles within the spiritual hierarchy and often go by the names of “grandpa” or “grandma.” Natural springs were at one time fiercely protected by hillfolk because of their life-giving waters, used not only to sustain the body but also as sources of spiritual cleansing and healing. Legends and folktales abound about the invisible owners of certain caverns or large boulders that often stand out against the wash of the forest landscape.

Traditional views toward appeasing the land spirits is often simplified to maintaining a good relationship with these otherworldly inhabitants. Protecting and maintaining springs or allowing certain parts of the forest to remain wild are just a couple examples of this important take on environmental protection. A good balance with the natural world was at one time integral to not only the physical survival of hillfolk, but also a means to ensure good spiritual health for the community. This is an equilibrium lost to many modern inhabitants of the Ozarks with more and more reliance shifting off the land itself and onto local grocery stores, city water, and the pharmacy. For many though, this balance is still seen as a part of the Ozark identity. I myself have encountered many old timers who still give offerings of food, smoke, water, and other traditional items to these places of power in order to keep this tapestry of life intact.

This relationship with the land has birthed many traditions of environmental protection amongst those still living closely with the plants and animals of the mountains. It’s a culture rooted in the views of animism, which sees everything in the natural world as possessing its own unique identity. As opposed to many pantheistic worldviews, animism is deeply connected to the spirits of the local landscape as opposed to “higher” beings like gods and goddesses. The spirit of a mountain spring is then unique amongst other entities that might surround it. These guardians are often said to have had their own births at one time in the ancient past. Likewise, they aren’t always considered immortal. The destruction of these places of power then means the death of the individual spirit itself.

On one of my travels, I met an old man who was still shaken by the removal of a huge boulder near his home to make way for a modern road nearly thirty years before my arrival. His family had been on their land for several generations and recalled to mind many of their folktales about the spirits or Little People who had their villages inside the rock itself. It was common knowledge to the local community that disrespecting the rock would bring a curse not only upon the individual themselves, but also their family. This spiritual affliction would manifest as strange illnesses without any physical cure, and it was said the only remedy was apologizing to the Little People and making amends with certain food offerings. In a particularly sad part of our conversation, the old man said when the road crew removed and destroyed the boulder it sent a shockwave through his family. They themselves didn’t see any curses from the removal but he reckoned anyone who was a part of the work had. I asked him what he thought might have happened to the villages displaced by the act and he just shook his head saying, “When something like that happens, they’re [Little People] killed off…they can’t survive outside their homes.” In his words, this act was akin to genocide. It was almost as if members of his own family had been taken away to a very uncertain future.

This was by no means an isolated story and I’ve encountered many people, old timers and young folk alike across the Ozarks with similar tales of cutting down old growth forests, plugging up springs, and more. One woman I met said her family protected an old patch of ginseng near their family home for many generations. “Probably the last one around these parts,” she told me. Because the patch wasn’t on their land, they were unable to protect it from eventual clearing for new construction as the local town expanded. She still cursed the name of the developer, although he’d been dead for years. According to her, the ginseng had put a curse on his family for their disrespect. She said shortly after the houses were built, they had trouble with fires and power outages limited only to that spot. In addition, she said the developer’s family all became “sickly,” and eventually moved away from the area. Whether this tale was true or not, I don’t know, but there were others in the area with similar anecdotes about the situation.

When viewed in these terms, protecting the local environment takes on a very different life from simple ecology. The land is protected not just because of the vital food, water, and medicine it might provide, but because the spirits of the land become members of the family or clan itself. The same respect is shown to these invisible members of the community as it is to the living. Just like a person wouldn’t bulldozer over someone’s house, rip out a home garden, or poison a well, the land spirits are respected and left to their own lives and communities. Maintaining this equilibrium with the natural world then recognizes the vital importance the land has to offer to all those living there.

This belief has been such an important part of the Ozark worldview not just here on colonized land, but it stretches back to our ancient ancestors who didn’t see themselves as being separate or above the natural world but as just another link in the chain. The spirits of the land are important because they’re seen as being individual entities with their own stories, wisdom, and magic to offer. Just like when we lose our own tales, remedies, and other traditional knowledge with the passing of the older generations, never to regain them again, how much have we lost from ignoring the spirits of the land? How many grandpas and grandmas have been lost to us by being thrown into the gears of materialism and so-called progress?

For many people today, this animistic worldview is foreign to our modern mindset. Protecting the environment is left to those struggling in the Amazon rainforests, or those fighting for their rights to clean sources of water. We somehow see ourselves as too forgone, perhaps, or wholly apart from the problem. And meanwhile, our mountains are being leveled for new cookie-cutter housing subdivisions, forests uprooted to make straighter roads, and native prairies dug up and replaced with invasive ornamental plants not suited to our climate and local wildlife. Working towards healing this equilibrium starts with you and your home. Here are some other ways you can help protect the land.

Instead of planting invasive ornamentals like privet, bush honeysuckle, nandina, or bamboo, consult local nurseries that specialize in native alternatives. In many cases, native varieties of plants have much more to offer. They are usually better suited to our climate, require less water, and provide a plentiful source of food for both pollinators and birds. They also add to the seedbank of the land. Seeds travel across large stretches of land by air or are carried by local wildlife. Planting with natives ensures the spread of these important species that are too often shaded out and killed by invasive varieties. You can even help out if you’re living in an apartment with little access to the land. Several friends of mine living in apartments have started planting native flowers in pots on their balconies to attract local pollinators. Many of these wildflowers are also edible and used in traditional Ozark medicines.

Reconsider removing large trees on your property and instead try and maintain them by trimming properly.

Spay and neuter your outdoor cats and participate in local programs to catch and release feral cats. Along with deforestation, outdoor cats are the number one source of native songbird loss here in the Ozarks.

Consider volunteering with groups who help to return natural areas to a more sustainable system. There are several here in Northwest Arkansas who go out to the local trails at certain times of the year and pull out invasive plant species that are killing out the native varieties. If you don’t have a group around you, consider starting one! Consult your local extension office for guides to invasive plants affecting the area.

Protect springs and other natural water sources by volunteering to clean up trash around the area. If you’re unsure of how to clean and maintain natural springs on your own property, contact your local extension office.

Honor the spirits of old trees, springs, and mountains with traditional Ozark offerings of loose tobacco, cornmeal, beans, milk, and water.

Many of these suggestions are doable not only for people who own land but even for those living in apartments or on small lots. Whether you’re someone interested in animism as a worldview, an environmental protection advocate, or even someone who doesn’t really like going outside, it’s important to reconsider your own relationship to the land and help out where you feel comfortable. Extreme actions like chaining yourself to an old growth tree about to be removed aren’t required for caring about the natural world around you.

#ozarks #folk magic #traditional witchcraft #witchcraft #herbalism #ozark folk medicine #Ozark Folklore #ozark magic #ozark folk magic #traditional medicine #traditional healing #ecology #animism #ozark healing traditions

[kweebtrash]

Streamhearts Timestamp 12:47am

Title: Nakie Stream

Pairing: Camboy!JohnnyxCamgirlOC (Rem)

Word Count: 4.2k

Genre: Smut

Features: recording sexual acts, daddy kinks, pet names (good girl, bunny, etc), Soft(ish) dom Johnny, use of sex toys, blowjobs, some finger sucking, anal/vaginal fingering, teasing/whining, shy sub OC, anal fucking, choking, swallowing/messy cumshot

Synopsis:

Though Rem is a smart business woman she hides behind a computer screen all day designing websites for large companies. However, when her day is done she’s still behind a computer screen but now showing the world how hard she can cum. She never wanted to be a camgirl but when financial duties called she took it upon herself to make it. The spotlight (and money) got to her and she expanded to showcasing her nerdy side; livestreams, lewd cosplay photoshoots, let’s plays, subscriptions, review, vlogs, tutorials, you name it. Her streams catches the attention of a fellow cammer, Johnny, who on a whim decided to message her. Both aren’t the sexed up dolls they pretend to be in the online life and instead ease their way into a relationship with not so perfect sex, mistakes, and total confusion.

A/N: This used to be on my Kofi which im closing down and just putting everything up on here. This isnt continuing.

Masterlist     Johnny Only Masterlist

~~

"It's time for Nakie Stream!" I giggled as I looked into the camera hooked up to my computer. Dozens of people had already logged on and the number was slowly creeping into the hundreds. I blew kisses and greeted the new arrivals as I showed off my boobs and bounced them a little. Even as I stood around and posed I was getting a few tips. This was all I did it for. I didn't really enjoy it nor did I want to continue doing it for the next ten years of my life. But for now it was another addition to my finances.

I slipped on my pink kitty headphones and connected the bluetooth. The ears lit up, twinkling neon. They were my favorite and I spent some time talking about the specs. Many people would rather just watch me fuck myself but some were actually interested in the fact that I was a "gamer girl™". I hated that title but whatever sold the aesthetic. The truth was that I was indeed a nerd. I had a master's degree in computer sciences and web design, I created websites for companies under an alias and different VPN so nothing would be connected to my other life. The other life, this camgirl/cosplayer/social media influencer/let's player, was my home. I wanted to travel across the country to show off the cosplays I engineered and get my foot in the door to speaking with video game companies through my let's plays. I could sail on that life and would never have to step foot in a retail store or office space again. I would have my own freedom.

I signed softly as a saw a drop in viewers and stopped talking about the headphones. This was the hardest part, being the stupid sex doll for the ones who were only interested in getting off. I turned on the video capture and started up the game so I could properly start my stream. I was just about ready to sit in my gaming chair when I felt warm thighs beneath me. I jumped up and turned quickly, surprised by my boyfriend. He pulled me into his lap, a poised erection parallel to his stomach. He had helped me gain confidence in performing on camera and he was my safety net when we made videos together. I was much more comfortable and relaxed when he touched me. "JJ is joining me today." It was his stupid online nickname because he couldn't think of anything else. "Hope you don't mind. He challenged me to a bet. If I win a few rounds while he's fucking me he will buy me whatever I want, no matter the cost. If I cum or get distracted too much and fail then I get punished in anyway he wants and he'll upload that on his page. I think I can win though. I've spent days awake during releases and playing games straight through so this is nothing."

Johnny scoffed. "You say that now, but just you wait." He set his hands on my hips and turned me away from the camera and let my ass be the center of attention. I bent over and cupped his face gently to plant kisses over his lips while his hands shifted to spread my cheeks apart and show off the heart shaped gem of the butt plug that was nestled inside me. He grabbed a hold of the gem and pulled the plug out slowly, not all the way but just enough to work up some thrusts. I moaned softly, the headphones capturing the sound loud and clear so I could hear it as well as the viewers. The familiar ping of a notification that I received a tip racketed one after the other and Johnny smiled before whispering under his breath. "Blow me for a bit. That'll stall us and give a chance for more people to log on."

I nodded, following his advice and kissed down his bare chest until I reached the junction of his happy trail to the hair above the base of his cock. He turned the chair slightly to adjust the view from the camera and used the small remote beside my computer mouse to move the lens and zoom in more to focus on my face. He was an expert on camera mechanics and even helped me get better equipment for my set up and I had seen my following grow substantially.

I lowered myself to my knees as he spread his thighs apart. Grabbing the base of his cock, he tapped the head against my lips a few times, chuckling on the outside but both of our eyes showed annoyance. We hated doing certain things for the camera but sucked it up anyway. He found the motion stupid while I found it to be a turn off but with my attraction to him outweighed all our discomfort. I parted my lips and slipped his head into the heat of my mouth. The soft moan he let out was definitely a real reaction and I instantly flicked my eyes up to his. His own had closed and his head leaned back against the chair. Gripping what I couldn't fit, I held him steady as I bobbed my head. I swallowed around him and tightened my throat as a slight buck of his hips moved him deeper.

Another moan came, this time from me that was muffled by the invasion. I upturned it into a drawn out exaggeration to add to the stream. Johnny set his hand on the back of my head and kept me close, forcing me to breathe through my nose. "More, baby girl. I know you can do it." He encouraged. I furrowed my brow and tried to calm my gag reflex as I wiggled down more of his shaft. "That's good." He groaned. "That's my good girl."

My cheeks tinged with rose colored fire at the compliment. I held on as he pushed his hips up, dictating a rhythm I was forced to follow as he fell into controlling the situation. I was at his mercy and he knew how to test my limits without going overboard. Deep throating was just another thing we were trying to check off our list but I still struggled to take down his length. He was so perfectly thick and long, nothing over the top or short of disappointment. It was enough to challenge my small body without me crumbling under intense pain. Our size differences, both in height and ratio of his cock to my hole, drove him absolutely stark raving mad. There had been plenty of times where he had to reel himself in before he devoured me completely in a rush of brutal thrusts. But that was exactly what I wanted.

He pulled out of my mouth just as I felt the first drop of precum fall on my tongue. I licked my lips to disconnect the saliva from us-another thing I hated but knew sloppy blowjobs were another aesthetic cash grab. "Get the lube." He commanded with a hard spank to my ass that made me squeak. I trotted away from my desk and rummaged through my nightstand drawer to get the large bottle of lube I had. "And your favorite toy." He added.

I smiled to myself as I pulled out the elongated orb shape of a vibrator that Johnny could control through an app on his phone. He disappeared from the camera view to retrieve his phone before taking his place back in my gaming chair. He guided me to sit on his lap, resting my feet on the armrests so I was spread open. I hid behind my controller a bit as I was too shy to be so splayed out with everything visible. Johnny shoved the controller down right away though, not letting me hide for even a second. I pouted and looked back at him, glaring. He only returned the stare, adding a "what did i tell you?" kind of expression. I exhaled through my nose and pressed start reluctantly. As I was flicking through the menu and character selection I found Johnny's long fingers creeping towards my mouth.

"Open." He demanded and my jaw lowered to accept him again. During a loading screen he thrusted his fingers, pinching at my tongue and stroking the sensitive area at the back of it. My toes squirmed as i wanted to gag but he pulled his fingers forward just before the sensation could worsen. A few more thrusts and he removed them completely, showing off the now glistening skin. He moved between my legs, stroking along my slit and just barely circling my clit. Small tingles started to form in my legs but i was able to concentrate as my battle started. It was nothing special as of now. He just wanted to work up one hole before the other so by the time he was shoved deep in my ass i would be more relaxed. The vibrator always helped in that aspect.

He squeezed a single digit in inside me, his honey eyes looking over me to gauge my reaction. My breath had sped up a little but i kept playing even when his tender lips began decorating my neck in the softest of kisses. I loved when he destroyed me but when he was so gentle it drove me more crazy. His kisses gave my tummy butterflies and I tried to squirm away. His finger only plunged deeper and his other hand gripped a fistfull of hair to keep my head straight, making me wince slightly. My eyes widened and brows furrowed just after as I dodged an attack that almost depleted my character's health. I grew irritated at my lack of assistance from the online players. "FUCKERS!" I shouted. "Do I have to do everything myself?!"

"You're so cute when you're irritated." Johnny chuckled.

"Oh piss off." I scoffed. I wasn't cute, I was dead set on capturing the target come hell or high water.

Johnny didn't seem to like my response as he shoved in another finger quickly. He curled them and fucked me faster then he had been and i almost dropped my controller. I swallowed back a moan and tried not to close my shivering thighs. He would hate that even more. "Make noises." He said into my ear. "Remember what I told you."

"Y-y-yessss!" I hissed. That wasn't faked at all. His fingers were magical and I dug my nails into my controller, scratching into the rubber hand grips.

"What was that?" He smirked as the sound of my wetness started to grow louder alongside the tip notifications. "Use your words."

"S-stooppp." I whimpered and paused the game as I squeezed my eyes shut.

"Giving up already? I've barely just started."

I shook my head quickly and renewed the game,keeping myself determined at the sudden reminder. I thought about what I wanted him to buy me, my end goal and reason for this stupid bet. "N-no. I-im not! I'm not giving up!"

"Oh?" He scooted the chair closer to my desk, still making sure to keep the camera poised perfectly. Reaching for the bottle of lube i had collected, he dabbed a little onto his fingertips. I barely noticed his movements until the cold gel was being circled and pushed inside me. I continued to command myself to ignore it. I had to. I exhaled slowly in an attempt to steady my breath but it hitched as soon as i felt the pressure of the vibrator slowly sink into me.

He didn't turn it on right away. Instead he wrapped his arms around my waist and squeezed me tight while he buried his face into my neck. It garnered more kisses and occasional nibbles that gave me just a few moments to get back to the game. Slowly, he moved his hands to cup my breasts, giving them both a good squeeze before capturing the nipples between his thumbs and index fingers. Gently, he tugged them into stiff peaks and rolled his fingers over the raised flesh to send small jolts of electricity down my neck. Quiet noises were held in by my lips pressed together though Johnny impatient at the fact i wasn’t letting them out. "You're still not making noises." He growled lowly.

"I can't help it! Im not loud!" I nudged my elbow back into his ribs, trying to squirm away as much as I could. He gave a light tap to my clit and pinned his arm around my waist again. I wanted to move now and I was too afraid to as i saw him make a grab for his phone. The familiar graph like control screen popped up and Johnny pressed his thumb to it. A cursor appeared beneath the pressure and at first he kept it low. That was simple enough for me to handle. He faced his phone to the screen, showing what he was doing to the audience. He chuckled as he read through some of the comments in the chat box.

"Even they think youre gonna lose." He said. "You're doing such a shit job, Remmy."

"Shut up! I'd like to see you try it! Maybe you should be the one trying to play while i fuck your ass." I pouted and crossed my arms as it took longer for my dead character to respawn.

"You're always wanting to fuck my ass." I felt the vibrator increase the intensity and my stomach clenched tight. "Maybe we could do another bet and that could be the stipulation but i don't really see you winning that one either."

"It's not over yet! I can still win!" I said with slight uncertainty.

"We'll see, bunny. I'm gonna take the plug out now." Johnny warned as he wrapped his fingers around the gem base. I nodded and leaned into him, begging for a kiss. He satisfied my craving as he slowly pulled the plug out of me, leaving my gape to flex around the emptiness. He tossed it onto the desk with a hard clunk before gripping my chin firmly. My jaw dropped open as he intensified the kiss, forcing his tongue to fill my small mouth completely. I held onto his shoulders to try and support myself as I got light-headed from the lust clouded thoughts that were spiraling in my head. He parted from me with a quick bite to my lip then reached for the bottle of lube again. He repeated the same motion of swiping it inside me as his fingers worked to stretch me even more.

I could relax around two fingers but he soon added a third which stretched me farther than the plug had. With his clean hand he increased the speed of the vibrator on his phone and I yelped helplessly. I saw him smirk through the video feed on my computer and wanted to wipe it off his face. With shaking hands I gripped my controller and resumed my pathetic attempt at playing the game. The vibrations would send sharper shocks throughout me every once in awhile as Johnny made sure i would feel comfortable taking his cock.

My bottom lip was starting to swell as my teeth kept digging into it. My toes were curling against the armrest and my controller vibrated with each bit of damage i was taking. The toys' own vibrations increased and I was nothing but a squirming mess on his lap. "Are you gonna give up, bunny?" He cooed in my ear. "Are you gonna give up and let daddy win? Please be a good girl for me, ok?"

"N-no! That's not fair! I d-dont wa-wa-nnghh-!" I clenched my teeth tightly as I felt a sudden urge to cum wash over me. He was being relentless with his thrusts now, plowing faster and making lewd sounds as the lube squelched against his fingers.

He made the vibrations spike again and I tossed my head back onto his shoulder, begging him to just slow down a bit. He nuzzled against my cheek and kissed my neck. "Look how loud you're getting for me." He turned my head to the computer monitor as he swiped his thumb across my clit. "Show the viewers how pretty my baby is when she wants to cum, hm?"

I flicked my eyes to the screen, embarrassed but wanting to comply so i could cum. If not i'd be stuck in this hell forever. Hundreds of comments were pouring in and i was able to see a number in tips i had never seen before. I swallowed hard and looked at Johnny. "It's going so well." I whispered.

"See what happens when you listen to me?” I nodded, upset that he was right but at least I could pay my bills with the money we earned. “Are you ready for me?”

I swallowed hard as my heart rate escalated. “I..um..” His erection pressed harder into the center of my back. He felt so swollen and even though I wanted to stay strong, the sub in me wanted to take care of my daddy. I nodded and felt his fingers slid out slowly. With his hands on my waist he was easily able to hoist me up with enough space to guide him towards my hole. Carefully, we worked together, me moving down while he thrusted upwards, to have him fill me entirely. My game kicked me back out to the menu screen as I had died again and it questioned if I wanted to continue. It stayed in limbo, not receiving my decision as my ass had touched the top of Johnny’s thighs and his lips had overcome mine. He scooted down in the chair, giving himself more ease of access to thrust.

The first few motions were careful, paired with a plucking of my nipples and an occasional clit rub. It wasn’t until I started grinding back on him did he increase his speed, pulling out almost completely before shoving himself back inside with a harsh speed. Our whimpers and groans were muffled by our tongues colliding over and over. In between the warm presses of his lips, his tongue would slip out to lap at mine or he would place love bites against my bottom lip. With dreamy and heavy lidded eyes I watched the small contortions of his facial features as his pleasure increased. When his mouth would drop open slightly to release nothing but a strained sound or when his brows furrowed with the intensity of my grip around him, i would drink it in, in love with everything about him.

As I squeezed my walls around him tighter, his hand ascended from the softness of my belly, to between my breasts, and finally to wrap around my neck. My muscles went rigid and my breath strangled. His fingers were formed into a grip that was growing tighter and tighter. I dropped my controller, letting it fall to the floor and found solace in dragging my nails into the plush pads of the armrests. The sound it created seemed to echo in the headphones as my mind transformed into lusty swirling thoughts. The dull burn of his girth inside me started to disintegrate but my stomach still churned with the fantastical feeling of his cock shoving against my insides. “Roll your hips.” He commanded me.

I couldn’t nod but showed my submission by moving my feet onto his thighs and lifting my body slightly. I circled my hips around the head of his cock, concentrating all the strength I could muster into the most sensitive of places. “Fuck, that’s good, angel.” His head fell back and his fingers pulsed their strength around my neck, giving me moments to hiccup in tiny breaths. My thighs burned and my knees buckled as my hold on the armrests made my knuckles splatter with the white color of straining. As he saw my body buckling he wrapped his free arm around me and hauled himself onto his feet. With the hand on my neck he tossed me into the gaming chair, making it skid across the floor a foot or two.

My eyes watered as i looked up at his; darkened and dilated with the idea of ruining me further. The veins in his arms dispersed beneath his skin, deepening into a soft blue hue as he clenched his fists around the armrests now, keeping the chair in place. He pulled the chair forward allowing him to slam back into me. The sound I left out was a mix between a squeak and a scream giving the satisfaction of me being loud on camera like he wanted. Ignoring the way a few tears streaked along the tops of my cheeks from the overwhelming stimuli, he rolled the chair backwards, repeating his motions of dragging me forward to fall into a pattern of ruthless thrusts. I had never regretted getting my gaming chair until this very moment. How he found the simplest household items to torture me with I’ll never know but he sure knew how to make sure I wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow. I held onto his arms as my back arched and body squirmed and I was unsure if I could hold back any longer. “Give up?” He chuckled darkly. “Just say the word. You’ve already barely played a round and kept dying so I think it’s a given that I’ve won.” he taunted.

If this was the torture during the bet I feared what his punishment for me would be later on. It was too late to change the way I felt and I was already falling into a subspace that needed to be filled with his cum. “D-daddy…” I cried softly.

“Say it.” He worked in another rushed thrust. “I wanna hear you say it.”

I pressed my lips together and clawed at his forearms. My stomach clenched harder and my toes curled, pulling the tendons taught and shooting cramps up my legs. “Fine! Fine! You win! Please let me cum!!!”

Johnny turned to the camera and stuck his tongue out, adding a peace sign, in victory. “Guess you guys get a little punishment video soon.” He leaned down and gave me a soft kiss. “Go on, bunny. It’s okay.”

I let out a small sigh of relief and imagined he would continue his thrusts but instead he reached for his phone one last time. He turned the vibrator up on full strength and I gave in then, growing louder as my cum showered the seat of the chair and onto the carpet below. The tense contractions of my orgasm caused the vibrator to crash to the floor, the buzzing rattling against it. Johnny shut it off completely and waited until i was curled up and suffering from aftershocks to grab a fistful of hair and pulled my head up. “Ahh.” He said.

“I want it in-inside.” I shuddered.

“Nope, that’s for girls who win bets. Open.”

I reluctantly opened my mouth, unhappy with his choice, and watched his large hand stroke over his heated skin just above my tongue. His fist worked faster and faster and his eyes fell shut. He kept my head in place and the sweet heat of his cum covered my tongue, sliding down my chin and dripping onto my chest. I swallowed and licked up as much as I could, even lapping at his slit to make sure he gave me everything he had. Once he relaxed, my hair was let go and i sat back in the chair. I swiped my finger across my chin and licked the last bit of cum that I missed. My legs fell as my body slumped; I better get a bath and cuddles after this, I thought, a pout sprouting on my lips. Johnny made up some quick exit greeting and shut off the cameras and bright ring lights. “You ok?”

“I’m sleepy and sore and want cuddles and a bath.”

He smiled and picked me up from the chair, wrapping my legs around him. “I will make you a bath and give you all the cuddles you want, okay?” I nodded and buried my face in his neck as he walked us to the bathroom. “But to be honest, you were such a good girl today. I’m proud of you for being louder and showing your face more.”

I squeezed my arms around his neck, trying to hide as much as I could for my cheeks were burning crimson. He could be rough but also sweet and docile when he took care of me. I loved him so much it almost hurt. “Can you say thank you?” he asked as if I was a child that had forgotten their manners.

“Thank you, Daddy.” I mumbled against his skin.

He rubbed my back before setting me down on the toilet seat cover. “I’ll let that one slide. I can tell you’re sleepy.”

“You’re gonna stay the night, right?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but with you.”

#johnny #Johnny Fanfic #JOHNNY SMUT #johnny suh #johnny suh fanfic #johnny suh fanfiction #johnny fluff #johnny suh smut #johnny suh fluff #nct #nct 127 #nct smut #nct fluff #nct 127 smut #nct 127 fluff #smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #asian fanfic #asian fanfiction #camboy johnny #camboy au

[fallenrepublick]

Submitted by @afrostycatblr

Oh my gosh this is so cute! Exactly the Feral content we all needed

I've been working on this for like months or something because I'm so out of practice with writing fanfic so be gentle bUT I'm hoping to make a less-than-happy day a bit better by sharing something I think is cute :')

Like Family: Feral

He felt he had known you would get along with his family very early on; stuck, just like them, in a dusty little trading hub. The vessel Savage had… borrowed at that time turned out to be in very poor condition, and the landing was far from comfortable. It was almost a crash, really.

He couldn't recall why you had been stranded there, but could remember that you were trying to get to the same planet, but a different settlement as his brothers and himself. Your spacecraft was not going to be repaired in time (you had cargo that was on a deadline) and in desperation you pleaded with them to allow you aboard the new ship they had (Feral hoped legally) gotten. Maul had initially hesitated, but decided (incorrectly) that the strange botanist's cargo would be harmless and hardly an inconvenience to the Zabraks' plans, and allowed you to board with them.

Savage was quick to give you approval for smacking Feral's hand away before he could reach him just before Feral would have touched the strange bioluminescent flora that bore leaves appearing to be velvety soft. "No, don't!" Shrieking in panic and surprise, Feral cradled the swatted hand to his chest with great confusion. Her plants looked to be harmless, but her reaction said otherwise.

"Wh-why not?" Curse the Maker for his stammering.

"This flora shouldn't be handled by bare skin, it has a toxin proven to be a painful irritant when touched, and it's not native to many planets in this part of the galaxy. It's important that I don't cause any invasive species to threaten established flora."

"Dangerous cargo… why isn't it marked as much?" Savage tapped the side of the beat up metal-plated crate with the hilt of his saber, something that made the botanist nervous. Feral had been ready to encourage his brothers not to be angry, as Maul had now left the cabin at hearing dangerous cargo. When she had finished speaking, she looked mortified, sure she'd just sealed her fate. "I don't believe I mentioned that; apologies. It's  time-sensitive because it's dangerous cargo. And an accident destroyed my proper, approved crates. I've had quite the stroke of bad luck with the little things."

Would his brothers have shoved her out through an airlock? Dangerous cargo, misfortune, forgetfulness; it didn't sound good for her. Thank the Maker they hadn't.

Otherwise she wouldn't be here, with them years later, currently burrowing into his side as they sit around a fire, all four of them worn out by days of dealing with all sorts of unsavory types, and a Weequay pirate named Hondo.

She wouldn't be here to keep the peace during the interactions with Hondo, reminding Savage to be patient, be the listening ear to Maul as he seethed after failed negotiations and the like if they had unceremoniously launched her from the ship. But she had become a friend to each of his brothers, plus himself, and he felt that it was the most important thing out of everything else. She made sure to spend considerable amounts of time with him, first because Savage had asked her to because the 'business talk" upsetted him, eventually doing it of her own accord.

They grew closer from there.

So much closer, in fact, that earlier in the year she'd become his significant other - this his brothers had knowledge of. What they didn't know was the changing of his relationship status just some few days ago.

He'd asked to become her husband, she to become his wife. She'd accepted it with much excitement, surprise, and delight, much to great relief on Feral's part. The two of them just hadn't gotten the right opportunity or a peaceful atmosphere to share the happy news.

Until tonight, albeit accidentally.

A drunken Weequay pirate shuffled by just as Maul and Savage engage in playful ribbing, voices mean, understanding the intent was anything but. "Please, forget about Kenobi for a moment," Savage snarled, waving his hand dismissively, "you lived amongst wreckage and junk for a long time, of course your life is a mess!"

"How you wound me, brother mine, by stooping oh-so-low with infantile insults. We're men- at least insult me as such." Feral was a breath away from requesting his brothers stop before they meant the antagonistic banter when the Weequay spoke up, and said something following the demanding remark that Feral could never bear to repeat or remember. The moment was soured in an instant, Feral could feel his hearts still for just the blink of an eye.

"Oh, shut it, the lot of you, you kriffing Hutt-spawn! You're wasting your time here, and the boss won't do no tradin' with the likes of you!"

It took the three Zabrak men a moment to realize yes, the Weequay did in fact just call them Hutt-spawn. But their non confrontational, unassuming friend was quick to return the same venomous tone before Maul or Savage could have done anything about this miserable whelp. "Are you really looking to start trouble tonight, pirate? Because I'd advise you to apologise for your insults before I leave you with one working arm; you do not get to speak to them this way without consequence, between the two of us I'm the one who has the right to speak to them that way."

A stagger, indignant scoffing and a drizzle of the spirits the pirate had indulged himself with tonight spilled on his boots as he drew himself to his full height all preceded his retort in loud, challenging tones. "Oh yeah, that so? Then go on, little lady! Make me sorry! Or do you lack the teeth to put the power behind your bite?!"

"No one will insult my brother-in-laws so freely, so this is your final warning. Apologize."

Anger and arrogance fueled by inebriation worked in the botanist's favor as the harasser attempted to charge forward, intending to call her bluff when he fell flat on his face just as he implied she was spineless, tripping over loosened rock. At least that's what Feral will let her believe since she hadn't seen Savage use the Force to nudge the rocks underfoot at just the right time, while at the same time Maul had been quick to pull the woman back by her shoulders from Hondo's crewman. He didn't release her even when the crewman remained prone in the dirt unlikely to find his feet any time soon, amber eyes fixed with a scrutinizing gaze upon his brother's partner.

"What did you call us?"

Clearly confused, their friend gently shrugged to loosen Maul's grip on one of her shoulders, tensing at this strange, sudden behavior. "I'm uncertain what you're asking about, Maul."

"You said something about Savage and myself; what was it that you called us?"

"What I called-? By the Maker, all I'd called you and Savage were my brother-in-laws, there's no need for an interrogation! Feral and I just hadn't been able to make the time to tell you yet." She didn't know it, but there very well would be an interrogation now that the Loth-cat was out of the bag. It's just the way his brothers were with him, and now her too by extension. She was steered to sit near their fire once more, Savage and Maul now across from her once she was seated.

Savage would have sounded angry to anyone outside the family, but to everyone here it was plain his tone held nothing but curiosity regarding how this botanist was asked to become part of the family. "Well you have the time now, tell us!"

#submission

[noonachronicles]

The End of the F**king World Pt. 1

Byun Baekhyun X Reader

Word Count: 8k

Warnings: Language. Violent imagery if you squint.

Genre: Apocalyptic/Alien Invasion AU. Slow Burn (ish?). One pining pup and one idiot in denial to eventual lovers.

A/N: I mean, idk, but do I ever?  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

Don’t forget to read the Prologue!

There wasn’t a single cloud in the sky, which left the sun free to beat down on every inch of the city. Showering it completely in light. It was nice, the sun, especially when it had been mostly dark and rainy for weeks. Basking in the light of the sun this city looked like every other city in the world. Absolutely every other city.

Cement sidewalks and asphalt roads with their gaping holes from where bombs and missiles had landed. Skyrise buildings half destroyed by fires or from flooding. Windows covered in plywood, plywood riddled with bullet holes. Not a business in sight that hadn’t been ransacked. Nearly every inch of wall space and every abandoned or crashed vehicle was covered in spray paint. Messages of hope for survivors, warnings about certain spots in the city, brief apologies and goodbyes from those who just couldn’t do it anymore. Plants, weeds, grass, and flowers growing through cracks in cement. Overgrowth in certain places making the city look like a literal urban jungle.  

Every major city in the world looked like this because every major city in the world got hit in exactly the same way. If not in the first wave then the second, and if not in the second then the third. And so on and so forth until they were all just empty shells of what they had once been.

The sound of your boots crunching against gravel and broken glass didn't even register to you any longer as you made your way down the empty street. Finally you found what you’d been looking for. A shop you’d noticed the other week but hadn’t had the chance to visit yet. The toy store was dark inside, left mostly untouched by looters except for the cash register. It had probably been busted open in the very beginning when people thought there would still be a use for money.

Old currency was rendered useless and the only survivors left now were the innovators, you thought to yourself as you peered through the window frame. It didn’t matter anymore what you had. Survival was about what you could do with what you found. The thought left you wondering how many people had walked past this shop without realizing its potential.

The storefront consisted of a three paneled window. Two of the panels had been smashed to nothing leaving an easy entrance into the store. The third window stood untouched, looking pristine. You rapped your knuckles against the completely intact glass and waited. It only took a couple of seconds. You could hear them before you saw them. A low hissing that sounded like getting the drool sucked out of your mouth at the dentists broke up with intermittent clicking. The sound either made your skin crawl in terror or it annoyed you. Today, luckily, it was just an annoyance more than anything else.

Grabbing the knife from the strap on your thigh, you focused in on the shadows of the aisles. There were two sets of four beady, silver eyes lurking in the dark. With a sigh you stepped through one of the broken windows and into the store. The hissing and clicking grew louder and more chaotic at your more obvious presence in the room. Resting the blade of your knife on your shoulder you made your aim. Then with a quick snap of your wrist the knife had shot through the air and projected into the shadows.

What happened next went fast, you knew it had to from your experience. As the first blade slipped from your fingers your hand had already dropped down to grab the second. The blade of the knife stuck between the four silver eyes and they went black. As the first grayish green, scaled beast fell forward into the light it’s counterpart opened its mouth wide to release a shrill shriek. The noise only pierced your ears briefly as you’d already thrown the second knife, the blade catching the beast in the throat. Those silver eyes drained to black as well and then it also fell forward into the light. Reaching into your pocket you pulled out your small flashlight and clicked it on. Quickly, you scanned the other aisles of the store for other Lurkers. You were pleased to find none.

First things first. You moved over to the cash register and searched the shelves of the rounded counter. As to be expected it was mostly tiny plastic trinkets at eye level that children would have instantly fallen in love with and would offer one last minute, desperate plea for. You did eventually find what you were looking for. There on the bottom self seated between a box of rock hard tootsie rolls and several bags of gummy worms that looked like they’d melted during the summer heat and then cooled into a blobby swirl of sugary color. A jar of, likely expired, blow pops. Tearing off the lid you shoved your hand in to grab one. You unwrapped it quickly and shoved the candy between your cheek and teeth with a satisfied sigh.

With your sweet tooth satiated for now you bagged the rest of the suckers as well as a jar of jolly ranchers. Then you went to pull your knives from the Lurkers you’d left bleeding out onto the linoleum floor. Placing one foot against the head of the first Lurker you tugged at the handle of the knife until the blade was released with a nasty squelch. You gagged at the sound, for some reason that was always the worst part for you, and moved to the second. With both blades freed from their victims you stood up and looked around your immediate area. Thick, black, gooey blood dripped from the blades onto the floor with little splats. On the shelf next to you there was a display of stuffed kittens with big, pitiful eyes covered in a thin layer of dust.

“Sorry, buddy.” you said snatching one of the kittens and swiping your blades clean against the soft fur before tucking them back into their holster.

You walked the front part of the store first, making a mental inventory of what was there that you would consider usable. On the other side of the room there was a spinning display rack that had been completely stripped of its contents except for one single package of batteries. That’s what you’d come in for.

“Fuck.” you muttered and snatched the lone package from the rack and tore it open.

At least you could replace the batteries in your flashlight, which had been functioning on borrowed time.

Once your flashlight was back at full power you started to make your way down the aisles. Continuing to take more notes of inventory, you searched for something that would be useful now. Dragging your finger through the dirt on the shelves you passed left a cleared line in its wake. You’d found baby dolls, Barbie dolls, and more stuffed animals. Princess dresses and plastic jewelry. There was plastic, silver tiara on one shelf, with little plastic jewels. You grabbed it and placed it on your head before continuing on.

Basketballs, tennis rackets, and skateboards lined the next aisle. The one after that had action figures and puzzles. You took a mental note to let Baekhyun know about the rack of lightsabers. Though considering how much trouble he’d gotten in the last time he had one you’d have to save both of you the trouble and tell him when Chanyeol wasn’t around. By then you’d nearly given up on finding anything when you reached the back corner and saw exactly the kind of thing you were hoping for. An entire display of toddler toys, each box with a red sticker and bold white letters that read, Batteries Included!

“Oh, jackpot.” you grinned, dropping your backpack on the ground and getting to work.

The first few months after the invasion were the hardest. The stress from uncertainty had aged everyone a hundred years. The four of you had stayed in the safe room for four days before venturing out. It took four days of Baekhyun and Chanyeol watching the security cameras endlessly and listening to the random frequencies the radio would pick up, trying to learn what they could, before they felt confident enough to open the door. It ended up being lucky because the night they decided it was time, was the night the electricity shut off for good. None of you slept that night. You just sat with the flashlight in the center of the room and waited for what you’d hoped would be enough time for there to be daylight outside.

It had to be daylight. If nothing else the guys had confirmed that the creatures never came out during the day. There were hoards of them during the night hours but there was something about the light that made them sensitive. Baekhyun had a theory that there was something wrong with their eyes. He didn’t think they could see or if they could they couldn’t see very well. He felt confident that their strongest sense was their hearing. He ended up being correct, you’d found out after watching them a little longer.

In fact they ended up being relatively ineffective threats once you’d figured them out. They were easy to maneuver around as long as there weren’t too many. They were blind as bats and pretty easy to kill if you got them in any of their softer areas which turned out to be anywhere on their necks and the diamond shaped patch between their eyes. The unfortunate part was that if you found one there were more than likely a dozen more and that’s when you’d find trouble. One or two were easy to kill. Even three was doable for a select few of you, if you were on your own. If you ran into a pack or you ran into them at night however, you were done for. They became chaotic attackers when they had the support of a hoard behind them. Like wild, rabid dogs they would tear their victim to shreds in a minute or less. Which was why they still terrified you even after three years.  

What you’d found when you walked out of the jewelry store on that fourth day was the complete destruction of everything you’d ever known. At that point almost everything still seemed to be on fire. Looters had come and gone, and were likely dead if they hadn’t gone into hiding in time. Buildings were still crumbling, sending debri crashing to the ground. Electricity was out everywhere but you did find that water was still running in some areas. You cried when you washed yourself for the first time in days. It wasn’t even anything nice. It was you in the bathroom of a coffee shop in your underwear, standing in front of the sink and wiping your body down with paper towels and hand soap. Still you cried. You’d cried a lot those first months, that whole first year really. You cried less these days.

Anywhere you walked you could see the creatures lurking in the dark, watching every move you made. Hissing, clicking and waiting for the sun to set. It’s why you’d all agreed they would be referred to as Lurkers, because that’s what they did. You didn’t go back to the jewelry store that night. You didn’t go back for more than a year. Instead the four of you collected food and what weapons you could before finding somewhere new and safe to stay. You did that every night for a week. You didn’t know exactly what Chanyeol and Baekhyun were looking for but you knew when they found it you could finally settle.

Hopping around from place to place is how you found Irene. She was a mess when you found her. Holed up in the corner of a broken cooler at a convenience store behind a barrier made out of boxes of beer. Trembling, sobbing, and dehydrated. It took hours for you to get her to even speak her name clearly. Later you found out her boyfriend had barricaded her in the cooler for her safety after he promised her he’d be back once he found his little brother. Then she watched him get torn apart by Lurkers through the cooler door while having to remain completely silent or risk being attacked herself. After that she joined your family, and the four of you became five.

As the days and weeks passed and you had become more comfortable and confident you started to explore the city. It was less for entertainment and done more so out of necessity. You needed supplies like food and weapons. The more you wandered and scavenged the more survivors you found. Groups of people like yours who’d been together since the invasion. As more people came out from their hiding spots obvious leaders showed themselves within your families, as your groups had been defined.

There were eight families and together you were the Community. The heads of each family met constantly in the beginning, trying to work out how best to work with one another and what they could offer each other. They all wanted to make sure that their families had everything they needed to survive without taking from any other families. In the end the city was separated into nine boroughs, a space for each family, each equal in square mileage. The ninth borough was the city center. All of the major arenas and theatres were there, all of the city's largest buildings. Underground parking lots at every corner. It was a hotbed for Lurkers. Entering any building was more than useless, it was a deathwish. Though it was safe enough to pass through during the day, so long as you stuck to the streets, by night it was wall to wall Lurkers.  

During the first year the Community met once a day after scavanges and doled out supplies. Each family took only what they needed and then the rest was stored by the original scavenger. After the first year half of the survivors were gone. Mostly loss came from accidents or illness. Things that happened that required a doctor, a doctor that you didn’t have. However on the rare occasion someone would walk outside in the middle of the night and scream at the top of their lungs.

Nobody thought them cowardly. It wasn’t an easy life, there was nothing desirable about it. You weren’t even sure where your own will to survive was coming from. It hadn’t been as if there was an expiration date on Lurkers. There was no timeframe for when this would be over. No ETA of your old life getting back to you. No visible end to the invasion. Still you woke up every day and you tried. When you went to bed you went to bed with every expectation of doing it again the next day.

After the first year the Community had become a well oiled machine. Everything had been so well organized. And there were so few people that supplies started to last longer and there was less of a need to meet up everyday. Now the whole Community only came together once a week for a check in. This week's meeting happened to be today.

Once you’d broken apart every toddler toy in the store and collected their batteries, you found a manager's office in the back. You sat down in the pleather chair and pulled your walkman out of your backpack, replacing the batteries that had been dead for a couple days. Having the sound of music flowing through you brought you a sense of joy and content that you couldn’t explain. It was the only thing you’d found since the invasion that could bring you any sort of content or calm. Without it your brain was constantly running a thousand miles a minute with worry and anxiety. You weren’t sure what you’d do when the city stopped providing you with AA batteries.

As the music played you twirled around in the desk chair a few times with a yawn, before deciding to check the room for supplies. There wasn’t too much, a couple things here and there, but in the bottom drawer of the desk you found five of the little airplane sized bottles of whiskey and a dusty, water warped copy of 50 Shades of Grey. After downing two of the little bottles you’d kicked your feet up on the desk and flipped open the book. Then, with a pretty good buzz brewing, you read aloud to an audience of two dolls, a stuffed monkey and three Batman figurines sitting on top of a file cabinet. The next thing you knew you’d amused yourself to tears and were late to the meeting.

Luckily you weren’t too far from the amphitheater where the meetings were held, just a handful of blocks away. You’d even tried to sprint it but were embarrassed to realize that the little amount of alcohol you’d had left you in less than peak condition. In all fairness it had been a while since you’d really had a drink. It had been a long while since anyone had indulged in a drink really. In the first few months a lot of people drank heavily as a way to cope and to avoid thinking about the reality of the situation. Reckless, unchecked drinking unfortunately led to a lot of accidents and those accidents led to the deaths of several people. There had been one night when a member of one of the bigger families drank half a bottle of tequila and didn’t close the door to their shelter well enough. That night twenty people were lost. After that it was rare for people to drink, it was even rarer for them to get drunk.  

The meeting had already started when you’d arrived. You could hear Chanyeol’s voice from outside the amphitheater as you stopped to catch your breath. Catching a glimpse of yourself in the reflection of a ticket booth window, you realized you were still wearing the toy tiara you’d found. Spitting the gum from your blow pop into some grass, you pulled the tiara from your head and shoved it in a trash can near the entrance.

Everyone was already there, which wasn’t a surprise but it was still embarrassing when they realized you’d just come in. Every head turned to look at you. Chanyeol, Hyunwoo, Jihyo, Taeyong, Solar, Hongjoon, Hanbin, and Seungcheol all sat in the center as the representatives of their families, silently watching as you made your way towards the group. You avoided eye contact with Chanyeol at all costs, ducking your head as you made your way to your usual spot next to Seulgi.

“You’re late.” she whispered as Taeyong continued with what it was he’d been saying in reply to Chanyeol.

“Obviously…” you whispered back, she pinched your side until you flinched, “Did I miss anything?”

She shook her head no and you both turned your attention to Chanyeol who had stood again to speak.

“General census has been that all families are low on food and the map doesn’t look great either, we’ve almost scavenged the entire limits of the city with the exception of the red zone. All food source locations are near depleted in zones with larger families, the others are getting close as well. Next week each family will send two members to the Farm for supplies and fresh food. Heads have been discussing that we need to put more focus on our own gardens around the city. We’ll be changing priorities from scavenging to gardening and livestock. The few of us who will continue to scavenge will need to...will need to start moving outside of the city.”

Unease ran through the group, and there was a steady hum of murmurs. Leaving the city limits was a nerve wracking suggestion because no one in the Community had left the city since the first wave. No one knew how things were out there. And of the very few people who had gone to scope it out, no one had ever returned. The only place the Community went that was outside of the city limits was the Farm.

The Farm was a huge compound on a stretch of farmland where an actual family had taken up residence. They had well stocked food storage, thriving gardens, and hoards of livestock. It was also protected under a massive security system. The family who lived on the Farm had come into the city not realizing it was occupied. When they found the Community and what you had to offer, they made a deal . They would exchange fresh fruits and vegetables, and eggs and meat from the livestock where they could spare it for fresh water which was the only thing they couldn’t seem to get steady access to. So twice a month the Community would send a group to collect the food supplies and drop off a water truck with a full tank.

Once the group had settled down after Chanyeol’s announcement there were still a few topics to discuss before the meeting was over. The end of the meeting really only meant that it was time for the group to break off into smaller cliques for further discussions and gossip.

“What if they don’t accept the water after the rain? That was a long stretch, they may not need it. What are we going to do without food?” You heard Sehun say as everyone talked over one another.      

You’d actually been pretty interested in listening in on that conversation but Chanyeol had sat down beside you. “You were late.”

“I know. I’m sorry, Yeol.” you looked up at him with your most convincingly innocent smile which only made him laugh.

“You know I worry. And worse, you know I had to hear about it endlessly from Baek.” he said, raising an eyebrow.

Nodding you pulled one of the suckers from your jacket pocket and offered it to him. “I got caught up and lost track of time. I’m sorry I made you worry. Forgive me?”

He already had the sucker unwrapped and stuck in his cheek when he nodded, “Forgiven. Just don’t be late back home. I don’t need you getting locked out.”

He patted the top of your head as he stood and you watched him take off. Seulgi who was talking in a group a little ways away saw him leaving and ditched her friends to chase after him. You frowned as you watched. It had turned out that they hadn’t been dating before the invasion like you thought. They’d definitely shared some pretty deep feelings for each other, but neither one had the nerve to make any moves. The invasion and imminent threat of death had apparently been the kick in the ass they’d needed to confess their feelings to each other. Still, of everything that had happened over the last few years the one thing you couldn't wrap your head around was people getting attached to each other. You just couldn’t understand falling in love.

Over the last three years the Community had lost so many people from death and disappearance. You had lost so many people. All your friends and family from before the first wave were just gone. Any family and all of your other friends. They were all dead as far as you knew. You would never get to say goodbye, never get to tell them how much you loved them. The hardest out of all of them to get over was Siwon. Things weren’t always perfect between the two of you but you’d been together for five years. As far as you had been concerned he’d been it for you. You’d been ready to spend the rest of your life with him, if he’d ever gotten the chance to ask you to. You’d imagined a future with him, buying a house and starting a family. Then in one day you had it all ripped away from you and the pain of it had been unbearable. You didn’t have a future, you didn’t have love. You didn’t even want it anymore. All you had and all you needed was to survive.

You couldn’t see the appeal of falling in love with someone who could be torn from you at any moment. Or intentionally putting yourself through the eventual pain of loss. You didn’t even like that you had to worry about losing Seulgi. The chance of risk versus the low reward just didn’t seem worth it to you. However, Seulgi was happy and as much as you didn’t understand giving your love to anyone anymore, you were happy for her. She was happy. She had a reason to keep going, and that’s all you could really ask for her or anyone else for that matter.

Throwing your backpack over your shoulder you waved goodbye to the others that were left and took off back up the stairs alone. Outside of the amphitheater you saw Hyunwoo chatting with Hanbin and Baekho, while Taemin and Jongin waited nearby. When he saw you Hyunwoo smiled and said something to the others before hurrying over to where you had been walking.  

“Hey,” he said, catching up to you.

“Hi.” you grinned.

“Hold up a second, I have something for you.” he said, grabbing your elbow.

You stopped walking and turned towards him, “For me? Why?”

“You know why.” he smirked. He moved closer to you so there was hardly any space between your bodies. One of his hands reached into his jacket and he pulled out a small, square, gold box with a red ribbon wrapped around it. “I know you didn’t want a big deal made out of your birthday, but I had to at least get you something.”

“You really didn’t have to get me anything.” you assured him, turning the box over in your hands.

“Fine. I wanted to get you something.” he corrected, “Will you just open it?”

You tugged the ribbon from the box and lifted the lid. A tiny gasp escaped your mouth at the sight in front of you. “Hyunwoo…”

“It’s expired, but only by a few months.”

Your eyes had filled with tears so quickly you couldn’t stop the single tear from slipping down your cheek. “It’s so beautiful. I love it. Thank you so much.”

He grinned as you pulled the chocolate bar from the box. “Don’t share it with anyone, okay?”

“Oh don’t worry, I will not be sharing with anyone. Not even you so don’t ask.” you laughed and wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders. “Thank you so much. Seriously, it means the world that you would give this to me.”

“You mean the world to me.” he said quietly squeezing you back, and then he pulled away, “To us. You mean the world to all of us. You’re always doing so much for the whole Community, my two idiots especially.”

You were grateful for the excuse to look away from him, to look over at Taemin and Jongin as your cheeks burned with a blush. “It’s nothing. You know I love them.”

“Alright.” he cleared his throat and looked over at the still waiting Taemin, Jongin duo. “Get home safe tonight. I have to get the kids home for dinner.”

“You be safe too Hyunwoo, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Tucking your gift into the pocket of your backpack you smiled to yourself. Maybe...maybe you could see yourself with someone like Hyunwoo. You’d seen him in action, you knew he could handle himself well in a fight. He didn’t need to be protected or taken care of. You wouldn’t need to feel responsible for him all the time or to worry about him too much. Plus he was a sweetheart and absolutely gorgeous, which never hurt.

“What was that about?”

Pulled from the thought you looked up to see Baekhyun. He was sitting on a short, brick wall. His feet dangled from side to side as he chewed anxiously on his thumbnail.

“What was what about?” you asked as he hopped off the wall and fell in line with you as you walked.

“Whatever just happened between you and Hyunwoo.” He was trying to be casual about the conversation but you could feel the energy vibrating off of him.

You sighed, “Nothing, Baek. Don’t worry about it.”

“Are you guys like together? You never said anything. Are you going to leave us? Are you going to stay with his family now? It’s just guys over there, you know? What about Seulgi? Does she know? She’ll be really upset.” he rambled nervously.

“No, Baek,” you chuckled, “I’m not going anywhere. I’m not dating anyone.”

“What did he say? It looked like he gave you something. What were you hugging him for?”

“Baekhyun!” You growled looking over at him with wide eyes, “Breathe. Calm down. Christ.”

He did as he was told and shut his mouth. He stuffed his hands deep in his pockets and took a deep breath. “Okay. I’m chill. You still didn’t answer any of my questions.”

“Well you asked about twenty all at once…” you said sarcastically and looked over at him and his big sad eyes. “Fine.”

Pulling your backpack around to your chest you pulled the chocolate bar from your bag and handed it over to him. He grabbed the candy and flipped it over in his hands.

“Shit. This is like ...European chocolate.” he said in awe, “This is the good shit. I haven’t seen stuff this nice in…”

“Months.” you said quietly.

“At least.” He handed the bar back to you, “God, what did he do? Ask you to marry him with that thing?”

You laughed as you put it back in the bag and then swung the bag back over your shoulders. “No. It was just a gift.”

“A gift? What for?” he asked, kicking a chunk of cement off the sidewalk.  

Baekhyun wasn’t going to let it go. You’d spent enough time with him to know that about him. Taking a quick look around the street to make sure there was no one nearby you said as quietly as you could manage without whispering. “It’s my birthday.”

“Your birthday?” he shouted, his voice echoing against the towering buildings that surrounded.

“Shhh.” you hissed.

“Why? It’s really your birthday?” He asked looking wounded, “You didn’t say anything.”

“It’s not a big deal, I don’t want anyone to know. So please...just shut up about it.”

“Hyunwoo knew. Did you tell him?”

You groaned, “Yes, but it had been by accident. He wasn’t supposed to find out.”

Still he looked upset, “I’m sorry I didn’t know. I would have gotten you something.”

You rolled your eyes subtly. “It’s fine, Baek. I swear it’s fine. I didn’t want anything, that’s why I didn’t tell anyone.”

“No, I should have known already. I should have remembered from before.”

“I’m honestly glad you didn’t.”

“I just wish there was time for me to find you a good gift. I feel like a real jerk.” He sighed, “And Hyunwoo got you chocolate? Damn.”

“I promise you, it’s okay.” You assured him once more as he trudged dramatically down the sidewalk beside you.

Suddenly he lit up with a smile, “What about a joke? Can I tell you a joke? Have you had a really good laugh today?”

You grinned. Secretly you’d become pretty fond of his daily jokes. “That sounds like the perfect gift.”

“Okay…” you watched as his face turned quite serious while he thought of the best joke. “Got it. What do you call bees that produce milk?”

“I don’t know. What do you call them?” You couldn’t help your half smile at the fact that he was already chuckling at his own joke.

“Boo-BEES.” He said with the biggest, cheesiest smile.

The laugh came even if the joke was terrible. A real shoulder shaking, teeth out laugh.

“Oh my god, I hate you so much.” You continued laughing and he just smiled back at you.

“Good. I love you too.” He said, the same way he always did when you told him you hated him. “Happy birthday, Y/n.”

You blushed, the tiniest of blushes. “Thanks, Baek.”

“You’re welcome.” He sighed happily. Pleased, you assumed, that his joke had gone over so well. After that the rest of the walk back was comfortably quiet.

Cordially was a club downtown, or it had been before the invasion. It had been made wildly popular by its exclusivity. It was the only by-invitation-only club you knew of. They would hand deliver invitations every week. White cardstock with red embossment that red simply, ‘You are cordially invited”. Then on the back it either said Friday or Saturday to indicate what day your invitation was for. For a monetary fee an invitee could bring up to ten plus ones. The add-ons were where they really made their money. That and of course the alcohol.

The building was on the corner of tenth and main, which was the most popular area for high end restaurants and bars. It was a two story building that had been built originally for use as a concert hall. It had housed operas, plays, and musicals. Then it had shut down for a couple of years and came back renovated into a burlesque club. After that it became a venue for punk shows. For awhile after that it was a gay bar that played venue to drag shows. And in its final form it was Cordially.

Immediately upon walking into the building occupants would find themselves in what appeared to be one big empty hall. On one side of the empty, dust covered hardwood floor there was a short hallway that led to two restrooms and an office. The big empty space had previously been the dance floor. Along the back wall was a bar and on the other side of the dance floor, opposite the restrooms, was a staircase. Upstairs was a horseshoe balcony. There were two more restrooms, a half bar, and private alcoves that had been reserved for vip invitees who’d paid major money for the privilege. None of that was why the Cordially was so important to you. It was important because, technically, its final form was home.

“Honey I’m home!” Baekhyun shouted as you walked in through the main entrance. “Oh, I forgot...I don’t have a Honey.”

“Is everyone else here?” you asked, ignoring his comment, as you looked outside one last time as the sun set on your birthday.

He looked over at the dusty bar top where five shot glasses had been placed. Three were upside down, two were still rightside up. “Yep. everyone is accounted for.”

With a sigh you let the door close while you grabbed the two by four leaning against the wall. You slide the wood through the door handles, and secured the locks at the top and the bottom of the door, and as a last step unhooked the blackout curtains Chanyeol had installed. The room was still lit with the orange glow of sun through windows that lined the second floor. Moving passed the bar as he whistled a tune, Baekhyun flipped over the remaining two shot glasses. He stopped at the door on the farside of the bar and held it open as he waited for you.

“Thanks.” you said quietly before moving passed him and making your way downstairs to the dark basement.

“Anything for the birthday girl…” he muttered to himself as he shut and secured the door.

“Uh...Baek.” you said stepping cautiously down into the unusually pitch black room. “I thought you said everyone was here?”

“The glasses were flipped. Is there no one down there?” he asked as you felt him step behind you.

“No, everything is off and I can‘t see shit.” you complained, searching your pockets for your flashlight.

“Huh...so weird.” Baekhyun said flicking on his flashlight and illuminating the wall switch. “Hit the lights.”

Flipping the switch up illuminated the bright, white christmas lights that had been strung all across the basement ceiling. The room had also been decorated with streamers and balloons. Chanyeol, Seulgi, and Irene all stood in the center of the room sporting paper party hats and cheerful smiles. They’d been popping poppers and shouting happy birthday, but you could barely register it through your haze of emotion.

Baekhyun had come around you and put a cheap, cheesy sash that said Birthday Princess over your head along with a tiara on top of it. Chanyeol lit candles that had been stuck into the top of a stack of just-add water pancakes that had rainbow sprinkles mixed in. After a moment of genuine shock you realized they’d been singing the birthday song to you and were now waiting for you to make your wish.

I wish I was this happy all the time. You thought to yourself before blowing out the candles.

“I-” you chuckled lightly, “I’m speechless.”

“Do you love it?” Irene asked hopefully, “I know you don’t like to make a big fuss about this kind of stuff. I worried it would be too much.”

“Oh, no! I love it! Thank you,” you said giving her a hug and then giving one to Seulgi too, “I don’t deserve all this.”

“That’s not true.” Chanyeol said wrapping you in a tight hug before guiding you over to the couch where a large pile of gifts were waiting. “You deserve more.”

“Do you like your cake?” Seulgi asked, sitting down on the cushion next to you. “Isn’t it cute?”

You smiled reassuringly, “I really love everything. I swear. It’s perfect.”

“I made it, the cake, but it was Baek’s idea.” When you looked over at him he was leaning against one of the surveillance desks. His cheeks were a little flush as he smiled over at you. “It was actually all his idea. He did most of the planning and the work, but we all helped out a little here and there.”

“You really thought I forgot, didn’t you?” he asked, looking so proud of himself. It was only then you realized he’d been the one that had remembered the last two years. Of course it had all been a show. Baekhyun didn’t forget anything. “Oh man, I really got you so good.”

“Open my present first! It’s the best one!” Irene said with a grin as she shoved a flat, wrapped box into your lap.

After you opened it you laughed immediately and then pulled the diamond chandelier necklace from the box. It had been a running joke between the two of you over the past few years. Whenever a gift giving holiday rolled around the two of you exchanged frivolous gifts. Grossly expensive things that were useless at the end of the world.

“I...It’s beautiful. I can’t wait to have some fantastic event to wear this to. Thank you, Irene.” you grinned.

“I got it at that jewelry store on third street if you want to return it. The receipts at the bottom of the box.” she smirked, “But you should know it was twenty thousand dollars, and I think it’s going to look fantastic on you. You should wear it every day because every day we’re alive is a fantastic event.”

Seulgi’s gift was next. She dragged over a tall box that was wrapped up to look like a gift bag, and that was clearly very heavy. When you pulled the tissue paper from the top of the box you revealed no less than thirty bottles of your favorite shampoo.

“So,” she started, “I have spent the last six months during scavenges looking for this shampoo. I took every bottle from every store in the city that had any. Cherish them, they are probably the last bottles we will ever lay eyes on.”

“I love you, Seul.” you said as you wiped your cheek of it’s tears.

“Love you too, bestie.” She said squeezing you tight, feeling quite pleased.

“Alright, that’s enough of the lame gifts.” Chanyeol said, reaching over Seulgi’s lap to hand you his gift. “I hope you’re ready for a real gift, Y/n. Something actually useful and still very fun.”

“Shampoo is useful!” Seulgi said, pinching his arm, “Dick.”

You laughed at the two of them as they bickered and unwrapped his gift. It really did take your breath away when you opened the package. “Yeol...oh my god.”

“You know I don’t know anything about knives.” he said as you pulled one of the shiny silver blades from its sheath. “Sehun helped me. He promised they were the best knives in the whole city. He said you’d really love them.”

“They’re so beautiful, Yeol. Really, I’m...I’m so happy.” you sniffled as you tucked the knives back in the box, “I can’t even tell you how much I’m looking forward to being able to use them.”

“And!” Irene said enthusiastically, “We’re all giving up our wash time tonight, so it’s all yours.”

Cordially was one of the buildings in the city that still offered running water. The problem was that it was such an old building that too much use throughout the day caused the ancient pipes to groan and when they did it was less than quiet. The five of you learned early on that there was a certain length of time that the water could be used after dark without attracting Lurkers with the noise. That time was divided and a bit of time was allotted to each of you for any night time activities like cleaning up after a long day or even using the toilet.

“No.” you argued, “That’s too much.”

“Yes!” Seulgi said, shooting you a terrifying glare, “Take extra care with the shampoo I worked so hard to get you. Rinse and repeat, for once.”

“It really is too much.” you groaned.

“Just let me know before you want to go, Y/n.” Baekhyun said, and you realized he’d been unusually quiet this whole time. “There’s just one more surprise.”

The group refused to listen to your complaints about wash time so you let it go. Instead you all indulged in your pancake cake and talked about your days. After a couple hours had passed you had to switch from the beautiful lights overhead to your regular LED lanterns so that Chanyeol could turn the computers and surveillance equipment back on for nightly security checks.

Together Chanyeol and you checked the reports from other cities and the surveillance outside of your building as well as the water storage. After your first yawn hit you mentioned wanting to clean up and get to bed soon at which point Baekhyun disappeared upstairs for sometime. You’d been ready to give up on him and crash for the night without even washing when he finally showed up. You grabbed one of your new shampoos, a towel and pajamas before following him quietly upstairs with your lantern in hand.

In the beginning you’d refused to leave the basement at night. The sight of the dark open dance hall creeped you out and you were always worried that there would be something hiding in the shadows. Ironically, it had been Baekhyun that had helped you out of your fear. You’d gotten into a pretty good system of making sure you’d done everything you needed to before the sun went down. It worked out really well for you at first.

That was until you, and everyone else, started to realize that things were changing. With every month that passed you realized that the invasion was having a lasting effect on weather patterns. Even now, after three years, they were unpredictable. Winter had come fast that first year. Sunlight was sparse, nights were seemingly endless. Some nights lasting literal days, as if the invaders were trying to force people out into the night to search for food and water, leaving them open and vulnerable for attack.  

It was one of those long winter nights that Baekhyun realized how uncomfortable you looked. He’d laughed at first when you told him you had to pee, but when he noticed the genuine fear on your face when he suggested you just go upstairs he stopped. You’d been so embarrassed, it felt silly that of all the things left to be afraid of, that the dark was what paralzyed you. Then he offered to take you whenever you needed and promised he wouldn’t tell anyone about your fear. That winter night lasted eleven days and every time you had to go to the bathroom or wanted to wash up, Baekhyun was there to take you. He’d check all the shadows and stand outside the bathroom until you were ready to go back down. Even if you shook him out of a dead sleep you  never heard a complaint.

It had been a long time since you’d needed someone to help you in the dark. On several occasions you’d even gone on scavenges at night. Like for the past four weeks when it rained all day everyday. There had been no sun but you also had no choice, your family needed food. So it seemed silly to you that he had offered to take you upstairs now. In front of the upstairs womens restroom Baekhyun stopped and held out his hand, “Lantern please.”

“I’m going to need it, Baek…” you whispered back knowing fully well the solar powered electricity that Chanyeol had set up didn’t run upstairs.

“Your lantern.” he requested once more, quietly, but sternly. With a deep sigh you handed him your lantern and he smiled brightly. “Thank you.”

He knelt down putting your lantern on the ground and picking up a container you hadn’t noticed before. Standing back up straight, he offered you the container.

“My gift to you.”

“You’ve already done enough.” you said taking the container, “Your stupid joke was more than enough for me.”

“Then this will just be the cherry on top.”  he grinned, “Open it.”

You pulled open the lid of the container to find actual cherries. Cherries, strawberries, and blueberries to be exact. “How? I thought we were out of fresh food until the Farm trip?”

“I’ve been stockpiling my portions for you.”

“No, absolutely not. I can‘t accept this, Baekhyun.” you said shoving the container back towards him.

“You have to. I won’t eat it. I’ll let it all go to waste.” he shook his head defiantly, and you knew he was telling the truth. “It’s yours now.”

“Here,” Pulling open the lid once more you searched for the biggest piece of fruit you saw. You held the strawberry up to his lips. “Just eat one. I won’t be the reason your dumbass gets scurvy.”

He smiled happily, “Okay.”

You moved the fruit closer to his mouth and watched him wrap his lips gently around the fruit, you gulped at the sight but he didn’t seem to notice. “Do I get my lantern now?”

He shook his head as he chewed and swallowed down the berry, “Just go in, you won’t need it. I’ll wait out here on guard, You can have your lantern after.”

You looked at him suspiciously before turning to the door. With your fruit and your shampoo in hand you pushed the door open. You inhaled sharply at the sight. The entire makeshift shower room had been covered in candles and wildflowers. It was the most beautiful display you could ever remember seeing in your life.

“Baekhyun…” you whispered his name, not really knowing what else to say.

When you turned back to him he was smiling from ear to ear and he asked very hopefully, “Better than chocolate?”

You may have rolled your eyes but your smile and bright glow said everything he needed to hear, “I hate you.”

“Ah,” he blushed, “I love you too.”

#byun baekhyun scenario #baekhyun scenario #exo scenario #kpop scenario #TEOTFW #do we hate this? I feel like maybe we hate this.

[love-and-anarchy-au]

Love & Anarchy: Chapter 28

well, this is the last chapter i’ll post of this au. i’m going through the roughest time in my life and i just feel like it would be for the best that i stop posting this. thats it. i’ve got nothing else to say.

REMEMBER THIS AU HAPPENS IN THE SAME UNIVERSE THAT THIS ONE

Find out what this AU is about here

Masterlist

Tag list: @healing-winston-pratt @honey-hippie-harper @obsidianfr3sk @nodrianbcyes @everyone-has-a-nightmare @redassassin @magykaldealings @cerenoya @cassin-the-assasin @cindersnightmare

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Part 3: A man named Ace Anarchy

18 years old Ace - Age of Anarchy Year 1

Boom.

    Boom.

    BOOM.

    Margot and Honey grumbled in tandem.

    One year without  sleep.

    One. Year.

    They deserved that, he guessed.

    “Why? Why can't they do this at noon?” Honey complained, as she sat up.

     Carrie, who was already awake, handed her a cup of tea.

     “It wouldn’t be as annoying as it is at this hour,” she replied and went down on of the side aisles of the cathedral.

     Ace sighed and sat up. Every day, every morning, it was the same: civilians demanding their blood, police thirsty for justice and even prodigies who wanted to help them and were there only to annoy those who annoyed them. It was a vicious cycle that did not seem to end and only generated lazy fights from the Anarchists’ part, who had not slept well for a year.

    One. Year.

    They must have seen it coming, of course. The government's duty was to oppose them, imprison them, fight them. While all of its first acts of destruction, the assassination of the mayor and the invasion of the cathedral had created  enough chaos for the next ten years, Gatlon’s government remained vigilant and resisting. Every day there were more deaths, more chaos, and more anarchy. The spark that the Anarchists had generated was turning into a fire, and that generated the most pleasant sensation of pride in Ace's chest.

    But that did not imply that he did not want to sleep one night on a mattress and not a mass bench, surrounded by his fellow Anarchists who slept just like him: terrible.

    They had tried to sleep in the catacombs, found by Ace the first week they spent there, while he was sniffing one of the side aisles. Running his fingers over the walls, it all started when he perceived a void in them, so he formed a ‘door’ and found himself with narrow stairs and descents. Without hesitation, Ace went down the stairs and found the most beautiful and creepy place he had ever witnessed: the catacombs. Dark, so full of bones that it was practically the only thing visible, and calm. Very, very calm. Within a minute, he told the others about his discovery, and they tried to sleep there however, all but Margot (and Ace, of course) were overwhelmed by the coldness of the place and preferred to return to the noisy quality of the main nave.

    Ace and Margot followed them, as they had all agreed to sleep in the same place; in case they smashed the barrier that Carrie, Bruce and Ace had built (with the houses of the old cathedral’s neighbors and a couple of Carrie's plants) to prevent anyone from entering the cathedral except them (Carrie, Margot and Ace, the only Anarchists whose true identity still remained unknown for the public), who went out once a week to buy food and other supplies.

    It was a hard life.

    But at least they had a roof over their heads and the ability to steal food without making a fuss.

    Honey stood up and started walking in circles, searching for something while she muttered under her breath. She had a corner all to herself, since no one wanted to sleep next to ten combs of ten different varieties of bees and wasps. Her corner was draped over because she considered privacy was a 'right' and not a 'privilege'; luckily, she did, since the mess in that place made Ace want to  tidy everything up in one blink.

    For his part, Ace slept on the very chancel, next to Mary (not to say under her). He had his bed-bench (it had been a cathedral bench once, but he and Bruce had rebuilt it so they could lie down ‘comfortably’) and his belongings, all carefully stored in wooden boxes (which had been part of a bench once, too). His corner was simple, but clean and pleasant.

    Well, as nice as a Gothic chancel could be.

    The rest of them also had the corners of it. Carrie, Bruce and Leroy slept one on each side of the aisles and Henry and Margot slept in the center of the main nave, as they had the fewest belongings (Henry had his clothes and art supplies and Margot had a couple of books and quite high fashion clothes). Carrie had personalized her corner by filling it with bright colors and mostly green; it was a small biome. Bruce and Leroy's (because they slept in the same area) was practically a laboratory and competed with Honey's place for the top spot for ‘messiest corner.’ Ace stayed away from those areas, since he did not need to circulate through them, nor did he want to; from the very moment they had moved there, he started rebuilding parts of the cathedral to turn it into a house (the first thing was a shower, because they needed to wash the blood from their clothes and skin; the second was to install gas for heating and cooking, which had a cost, but it was worth it in order to be able to eat things that did not come out of a package).

    It wasn't easy, but it was better than dying in the streets for being themselves.

    Ace stood up and put on his helmet. It was the first thing he did every morning: put on his helmet. It was his armor, his sword, his second heart. Without that helmet, he would be nothing at all, and he owed it all to his brother, David. That thought made him want to laugh at how ironic that was, as he knew that his brother didn't totally agree with what Ace had done (and did every day) for prodigies and his release.

    A faint smile crept across his face as another boom echoed throughout the nave and it made him tremble a little. He slipped on his leather shoes (stolen shortly before the Gatlon Bridge was destroyed) and cracked his knuckles, rousing himself.

    “Good morning, Anarchists,” Ace greeted as he walked down the nave and donned his black blazer with gold details. “Shall we end this for once and for all?”

    Margot, who was lying on her 'bed' with a frown, stood up abruptly and with her hand, she threatened to grab her hat that wasn't there. The girl snorted.

    “Where’s my hat?” Margot demanded, furious, because she needed her hat to be able to go outside and fight the military and the police without revealing her identity (although it made no sense, since her entire family was dead and she was already exposed every day anyway). She said it was to ‘keep up the appearances.’ Ace bit back a laugh, snapped his fingers and with his hands he handed Margot her hat. He had seen it the day before at Honey's mess.

    “Thanks,” she murmured and put it on. She was ready now, since she never changed her clothes except when she washed them in her morning showers (like everyone except Honey to tell the truth, she had ten dresses in the same colors). Henry suddenly roused himself, and ran a hand over his face to reactivate its blood circulation. Ace continued to parade down the nave.

    “Leroy, Bruce, wake up,” Ace asked, in a slightly singsong voice and he ducked into the boys' corner against his will. They were the only ones who slept well, either because they were heavy sleepers or because they used sleeping substances. Both were likely to be true.

    Ace resisted  the urge to hold  his nose because of the smells that place was emitting, and clapped his hands to wake them up. boys, who slept soundly in their beds. The applause didn't work out, so Ace decided to go rough mode and directly split their beds in half. Leroy and Bruce woke up to splinters and dust, startled, as expected.

    “Come on, we have work to do,” Ace encouraged them, and walked away from that stinking corner. He did not go to wake Carrie up since she was always the first to wake up, she put the ‘early’ in ‘the early bird catches the worm.’

     And yet, she was already waiting for him at the doors of the cathedral, with all her disguise on her. They nodded at each other, as a greeting. They had a respectful relationship, period, nothing more. While Honey and Margot were a tornado and a fire, Carrie was just the sound of leaves falling to the ground; minimal, indistinguishable.  she gave her opinion only every now and then, and even so, she was the most helpful of the group: she prepared breakfast with Ace every morning, and she was ready for anything, as long as it was in silence (except for the battles of course, that was too much to ask).

    Carrie Harper was undoubtedly indecipherable.

    “Morning, Miss Harper,” Ace greeted and smiled behind his helmet.

    “Morning, Mr Anarchy,” Carrie replied and handed him a blood-red flower.

    Ace arched an eyebrow.

    “It’s for our victory. I know you know what will happen today,” Carrie explained as she pulled on her garden gloves, like she needed them.

    “I do, but how do you?” Ace questioned, as he put the flower on the top lapel of his blazer. It gave it a tragic, romantic touch.

   Carrie sighed.

   “I have investigated the government's resources and they’re almost run out of them. Most of the soldiers have died, weapons have been stolen and functionaries have quit. They have no chance against us.”

    Ace smiled, pleased that his analysis had been perfect.

    “And why will we win today?”

    “We will win today because the soldiers, tanks and helicopters that are here now aren't from them but from outside the government. They have reached  out to them for help and they listened, thinking we'd be easy peasy. But we are not, so they will be surprised when they see what we can do.”

    Ace nodded.

   “That’s correct. They don’t know we are prodigies, and we’ll use that advantage against them. Once they see what we can do, they will never come back,” he explained, very happy to know that he was not the only one who understood strategy.

    Honey and Margot made it to the door in two runs. Margot applied mascara to Honey while the other applied red lipstick on the other’s lips. That image gave Ace a sense of familiarity that he hadn't felt in a long time. Not that kind of familiarity.

    Bruce, Leroy and Henry came after them, only in a messier way (although it was true that they were always like this).

    “Ready, Anarchists?” Ace roared and his roar echoed throughout the cathedral.

    “Always,” Margot replied,  and Ace kicked the doors open with an invisible kick. They all came out after her, followed by their battle cry.

    “At all costs!”

     Ace undid a fraction of the wall so they could get out; Bruce and Carrie did the same. Thunder and lightning invaded the sky in seconds, and millions of bees generated deafening hums as they exited the same place as them. Through the corner of his eye, Ace saw how Henry melted on a policeman, until he turned to charred meat, and also how Leroy threw acid bombs from the top of his lungs. Everything was screaming, explosions, buzzing.

    Ace rose from the ground one, two, ten meters, until he was skimming the top of the bell tower. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to feel the  show  without seeing it. Time slowed down for a couple of seconds, and that was enough for him to feel everything around him, moldable like a mass. This is how, when they shot him in the chest, he was able to turn the bullets against whoever had shot them. When bombs were thrown at him, he threw his own tanks at them, then blew them up. When his companions needed help, he shielded them with walls or cars, or attacked back for them. He ripped off roofs from nearby houses, underground pipes, buses, wheels, even firearms. Everything served as a weapon to destroy the enemy, you just had to use it in such a way.

    The best thing was that nothing supposed a superhuman effort.

    Not at all, he was having a better time than ever.

    He felt… powerful. Yes, very powerful. Almost invincible.

    An unstoppable laugh rose up his throat and manifested itself in his acts, as each laugh was synchronized with an act. Hahaha, a tank crushed over ten soldiers. Hahaha, a helicopter turned to ashes. Hahaha, metal pipes shot like arrows. Hahaha, walls crashing into flesh, and bones breaking. Hahaha, skulls cracking from blows to the back of necks. Hahaha, blood on the ground. Hahaha, airplanes compacting like cans. Hahaha, Anarchists laughing. Hahaha, hahaha.

    All the prodigies were laughing at those who had laughed at them, while going through the same act of violence.

     They shouldn't have laughed at us, Ace and James thought.

     And they were right.

     The battle lasted two hours. Only that. Nothing and no one was left, only the  Anarchists and their beloved cathedral. The battle ended gradually, like everything else; they practically realized it was over when they had almost killed each other. They never stopped laughing or smiling; Ace descended gently from the sky and entered the cathedral with his companions, who were covered in dust, blood and other fluids. They all had a triumphant and empowered smile drawn on their lips. They were proud of each other and of themselves.

     Who wouldn't be, after such a historic victory?

     Well done, Ace, James whispered in approval. Well done.

#love & anarchy #love & anarchy au #ace anarchy's backstory #a man named ace anarchy #ace anarchy #alec artino #alec james artino #honey harper #queen bee #carrie harper #flower power #bruce chapman #atomic brain #leroy flinn #cyanide #henry bleach #magma #margot climat #tempest #marissa meyer #my au #au #my fic #fic #renegades #anarchists #age of anarchy #before renegades #renegades au #renegades fandom

[is-that-another-soulmate-au]

Zukaang soulmate au part 11

@mypureessence

@chaoticidiott

After having successfully crossed the serpants pass, and stopped the drill from entering the city, the gaang was finally in the walls of Ba Sing Se. However trying to contact the king was going to take much much longer than they hoped for.

With Ju Dee and the Dai Lee stunting both the search for Appa and the meeting with the earth king, the group was rather irritated to say the least. Let alone the lack of response to the flyers. Zuko decided to do some... investigation of his own. Sneaking out at night to follow the Dai Lee, which was surprisingly easy to do, they're not very observant of their surroundings; at least not enough to notice Zuko in his full blue spirit get up following them.

He managed to follow them for three nights, putting up posters with the group during the day while following the agents once the sun went down. On the third night he followed them to a lake, slipping into the tunnel after them he continued to go unnoticed.

"The bison-" he heard one of the agents say from down a hall, but not all of the conversation was audible until the last bit "-seven sixteen" a room number perhaps?

He managed to scale the tunnels undiscovered, which was amusing because the Dai Lee pride themselves on seeing everything. Nonetheless he managed to make it to the room and open it to find Appa.

Slipping in and shutting the door Appa let out an angry groan "shh, shh, Appa, its just me" he said as he removed his mask, watching the sky bison calm down upon seeing his companion. Zuko moved closer and spotted several thorns stuck in Appa's legs "oh, Appa," he said in a hushed whisper.

"Okay buddy, I'm gonna get you out of here but first I need to get these thorns out," he brushed the fur away from the thorn with one hand while grasping it with the other "this is going to hurt, but trust me you'll feel better afterwards" after that he pulled out each thorn one by one, gently brushing the fur and placing small kisses where the thorn was to try and comfort his long lost friend.

Once done with the thorns he cut the chains and shackles off. "Alright, lets get out of here"

"I figured I'd find you here" Zuko spun around to see his Uncle in the doorway "blue spirit huh?"

"Uncle I-"

"No need to explain, lets hurry and get Appa and ourselves out of here" and with that they got ontop of the bison, who had no saddle so it was difficult holding on.

Zuko didnt realize he had been out all night until they made it out of the lake and were met with the bright light of day. They only flew around for a bit but eventually ran into the rest of the group, with Appa taking a nice bite of Long Feng's leg just before the Dai Lee fled.

"Appa!" Aang shouted as he Katara, Sokka and Toph ran to hug their found friend.

Zuko leaned down and placed a quick kiss to the top of Aang's head, earning him an accidental headbutt which caused him to fall off the bison and slam onto he ground with a good "Oof!"

"Oh my gods! Zuko! I'm sorry!" Aang went to help Zuko up but when he grabbed Zuko's arm he was pulled down into a tight hug "hey!"

Zuko laughed and the two of them stood up "sorry I went missing last night-"

"And the two nights before that" Katara playfully glared at him

"Yeah, that too, I was tracking the Dai Lee, I'm less likely to be detected when I'm alone" he shrugged "but I guess Uncle is even less noticeable than the Dai Lee and me because he managed to follow me without either of us noticing him so"

Iroh simply laughed from the back of Appa as the group climbed on. "Now that we have Appa, why don't we go talk to the earth king?" Iroh suggested

"Yeah! I mean hey, we found Appa and escaped the dai Lee! We're on a roll!"

"A good hour after weeks of travel is not 'on a roll' Sokka" Katara shot him a tired glare.

"It might not be on a roll but it could be if we keep going" Zuko added "besides we have to get the invasion plan to the king, that was the main reason for coming here in the first place"

"Zuko and Sokka are right, we should at least try"

With the majority vote being for seeing the earth king the Katara caved and they went to the king, forcefully smashing his fancy door down and everything.

Of course Long Feng was there but it didn't take long to convince the king about what was happening. Revealing the bite mark on Long Feng's leg, taking them to the destroyed lake Laogai, and then finally the defeated fire nation drill outside the wall.

The King had Long Feng arrested and took the group back to the palace where they found out that there were letters kept from them by the Dai Lee under orders from Long Feng.

A letter from Toph's mother, An intelligence letter for Sokka and Katara from their dad's fleet, and a letter for Aang from a guru at the eastern air temples.

"I hate to say it, but we should split up," Sokka said while looking at the letters "but one of us should stay behind and help the ki-"

"I'll stay behind" Zuko suggested which got him confused looks "i mean you all got letters calling you to different places right? Uncle and I didnt get any,"

"Not that we'd expected any, being fugitives from our nation" Iroh added with a hearty chuckle

"Right, so we can just stay back and watch over things while you guys go"

"Zuko, you, are the best... flameo... ever!" Sokka said before hugging Zuko, who only pried him off

"Slow down there buddy. But you're right, I am."

With the trio loading up Appa with supplies Zuko pulled Aang to the side first chance he could, taking hold of his left hand "Aang, before you go, incase I dont see you for a longer time than we could both hope for... I have something I want to tell you... I-" I love you. I dont want you to go. I'm sorry for everything. Please don't leave me. He wanted to say all of those things but instead Sokka found them and proceeded to give Aang a noogie, regardless of the fact that he was bald. Letting out a sigh.

"Sorry, Gotta go, I'll see you soon, okay?" And with that Aang pulled Zuko down to place a kiss on his cheek but Zuko turned his head just in time to plant that kiss on the airbenders lips. He held him there with his hand on the back of his neck, knowing full well that they just became a spectacal to the others around them. But not really caring when Aang immediately returned the kiss with hands on either side of his neck.

Of course they pulled back only seconds later, with Zuko resting their foreheads together "come back to me, promise?"

Aang let out a laugh "you doubt me?" He moved Zuko's hand from the back of his neck and placed a quick kiss to his knuckles "I'll make it back to you, I promise"

"Alright! Alright! Enough with the oogies! Let's get the show on the road!" Sokka complained loudly, breaking the moment and making the pair separate with flushed cheeks before they parted ways.

Watching the bison fly away Zuko felt a hand on his shoulder. Expecting his uncle he was surprised to find the king himself was the owner of said hand "while I know you two are soulmates, perhaps save the snogging for private times? Okay?"

Zuko covered his face and let out a groan "right, right sorry"

"Im only teasing, that was one romantic send off" the king let out a short laugh before turning to head back inside "come now, we should prepare for the Kyoshi warriors"

Zuko looked up at the sky one last time, the bison now out of sight, Aang now too far for him to see. He let out a sigh and turned to follow the king. He knows Aang can handle nearly anything, so why does he have this heavy sense of dread washing over him?

Something wasn't right, but he could figure out what.

#avatar the last airbender #avatar: the last airbender #prince zuko #zuko #atla zuko #atla sokka #sokka #tw: cursing #atla katara #katara #avatar aang #aang #atla aang #aang gang #atla toph #toph beifong #toph #uncle iroh #atla iroh #king kuei #appa atla #momo atla #i will die on my endless soulmate au hill #soulmate alternate universe #soulmates #soulmarks #soulmate #aang x zuko #zuko x aang #zukaang