the first person to know that katara is in love with zuko isn’t the man himself, but hakoda.
it had been ten months after katara had returned to the south pole from a two year stint as the southern water tribe ambassador in the fire nation capitol, and hakoda had watched her slowly regress into a haze of her former self. ten months was enough time for the comfort of being home again to fade into unimpassioned routine—dull eyes, efficient hands, placid smiles—but none of the fire he has come to recognize as her own special brand of happiness.
it starts to become a real issue when he notices her zoning out during tribe leadership meetings, those eyes that are so like his beloved wife’s glazing over as she stares into the hot flicker of a nearby candle. it starts to take two, three, four calls of her name for his daughter to snap out of it with an embarrassed flush and a half-assed apology.
then, the sparring starts. katara always is on top of her skills, often volunteering to teach the up-and-coming benders in lessons. however, hakoda starts hearing rumors of how she’s begun to seek out more and more intense sparring sessions—with each one ending with a bewildered (and thoroughly beaten) opponent and a woman very much so frustrated with their inability to keep pace.
when he finds her one night—much too late for any sane person, really—holding her hand over the open flame of their hut's fire with the expression of someone ten years her senior, hakoda knows it's been long enough. he sends for the fire lord (under strictly political circumstances, of course) and exactly twelve days later, the boy-king himself is docking at their shore.
and really, that's the moment that he knows his daughter's affections are returned—because even with the fastest of ships, it should be impossible to make that trip in under two weeks.
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Just had an angsty ineffable husbands au idea (dw ends happily)
Cw: pregnancy/mpreg (kinda. For the purpose of the story I will be referring to both Zira and Crowley as "he/him")
What if after Aziraphale gets up to heaven the metatron turns to him and is like "well now, lets begin" and Zira is magically impregnated w Gods child. He is kept a close eye on so deals with the whole pregnancy mostly alone, save for certain lesser angel attendants attempting to take care of him (but they have no real clue about pregnancy so Zira gets very little actual help).
Zira is struggling, still emotionally devastated by the breakup, but one day he overhears Gods plan for his child and starts thinking up an escape plan. By the time everythings in place (Muriel helps?) Zira is very far along (the pregnancy is faster than a regular human one) but by some miracle the angels who were meant to be guarding him have become lax in their duties and its now or never.
He's thought a lot about where he could go, where he would be safe, but the thought he keeps coming back to is Crowley. But oh surely he is still angry with him! Surely he would take one look at Zira and his extended belly and shut the door on him forever. No apology dance could fix the mess he'd made.
And so he finds himself in his bookshop, intending to not bother his love with the problems he'd brought on himself. He expects the bookshop to be a mess. Muriel was a kind angel but he did not expect much from them in the way of book keeping. But he finds the place just as he'd left it, almost uncannily so, and is gently running his fingers over a bookshelf when he hears a noise.
Not just any noise: Crowley. He'd know his footfalls anywhere. The way he staggers about, stumbling into corners, softly cursing when he stubs his toe on a bookend. When he rounds the corner its clear he's been drinking. If the bottle clutched in his arms was any indication so too would be the way he's practically falling over with every step, gulping down the bottle with the occasional burp or hiccup.
Aziraphale is frozen, shocked by the sudden appearance of the one person he wanted to avoid-and the one person he most longed to see. Crowley hasn't seen him yet. He could miracle himself away and disappear as if he'd never been there. But some mysterious force has him rooted to the spot, drinking in the sight of his beloved.
And then its too late.
"A-angel?"
"Hello, my dear."
The demon rubs his eyes as he staggers backwards into a shelf, scattering a pile of Jane Austen's works, Persuasion landing at Zira's feet.
Fitting.
"S'just another dream." Crowley mumbles, sounding oh so very tired. "S'no way he'd come back. Up there with them fancy white coats. All light and good and-everythin m'not."
"Oh, Crowley..."
"No!! G-get away from me!" He throws his arms up in the air as if he can clear away the apparition if he waves them frantically enough. "Not real..."
Zira makes a choice then. He could leave, find somewhere else to hide from God and the angels and try to weather it out alone. Or, he could stay and try to fix things.
Moving slowly, arms outstretched, Zira calls to his beloved:
"I'm home."
<>
Crowley is a sobbing mess. Once he was sober enough to believe his angel was real he got angry. Flinging curses in every direction. Zira was hurt but took them gently, knowing he deserved it. Then the tears came. Until finally he passed out in Zira's arms, clutching the angel like a lifeline.
When morning comes Zira hadnt slept. He'd wanted to start putting the wards up but everytime he tried to move out of Crowley's arms the demon would make a pitiful noise and hold him tighter. It would all be very cute if his back wasnt killing him.
Crowley woke with a start at exactly 6:02AM and simply stared at Zira with an unreadable expression. He did not speak for several minutes. Simply stared. Then the first thing out of his mouth was:
"Gee, angel, you've gotten fat."
Aziraphale went red, immediately annoyed and anxious at the same time.
"Excuse me? How is that the first thing you say to me?"
But Crowley was staring intently at his belly not at all listening to Zira's offended screeching.
"Angel..." He cut in softly and at those words Aziraphale crumbled and it all came out at once.
About Gods child. The pregnancy. The plans they had for his baby. His escape plan. Everything.
Crowley listened quietly, expression the most unreadable Zira had ever seen it. Which of course only made his anxiety worse.
"-and I know I couldn't possibly expect you to help me, not after what happened, but-"
"Aziraphale."
Zira continued babbling, his voice getting higher and more shrill as he went on.
"Aziraphale!"
Zira shut up at that, wincing at the anger in Crowley's voice.
"I'm sorry."
Crowley's eyes softened but Zira was looking anywhere but at him, not able to bear what could only be hatred in his eyes.
"Hey, look at me."
Zira shook his head. A sigh. Then Crowley was holding Zira's face in his hands and looking at him as if he were his whole world.
"I've got you." Zira tried to duck his head but Crowley moved with him, keeping their eyes level. "Its you and me, remember?"
It would take time for Zira to truly believe his words but in that moment it was just what he needed to hear.
After a while of holding each other, Crowley broke the silence with:
"So, I guess we're going to be fathers this time around, huh."
I desperately want more Lasko/Cam and would love to see your take on #1 - kissing on the palms of hands. <3 <3
AH! ASK FROM DOMINI!! 😭😭🥺😳😳😱
Yes!! I am always down to write more Cam/Lasko, so here we go!!
“Aaand that's the last of it. Th- ah, uhm, thank you for letting me borrow your pencil, I can't believe I was stupid enough to leave mine at home when this is l-l-literally a study date—“ Lasko stopped himself when he saw Cam's expression.
“I mean, uh— I can't believe I was so forgetful. It— I'm not stupid, it was a mistake anyone could have made. Just… kinda silly.” Cam smiled at him and Lasko totally, absolutely was not fixating on how beautiful his smile and his lips were. Not at all. He held out his hand with the pencil.
“Thank you, dearest love,” Cam took the pencil and then took Lasko's face-up hand, kissing the palm of it. Lasko's brain short-circuited. Soft lips— warm lips— on his palm. Cam looked up at him, blushing a little.
“I should have asked, forgive me… but you did seem to enjoy that…”
“Yes! Y-y-y-yes I enjoyed it.” his face was beet-red. ”It was… really really sweet… actually…”
Well, I got carried away… that was a great deal longer than I inteded it to be 😆
Hello, so I had this little nugget of an idea because of a post about how NQS and Kendy are basically Morticia and Gomez Addams in pastels and I thought you'd enjoy it. It's UsaMamo rather than NQS and Kendy bc lets be real, they don't need to be married and rule the world to be like that, but here:
"Okay, but Mamo-chan, you have to admit you were hot as Moonlight Knight!"
"I wasn--"
"Semantics, he was still a part of you, so it still counts!"
The deep sigh that pulled from Mamoru's chest belied that of someone who had had this conversation before and was aware it was a losing battle. There were a few hills he would die on, but this one wasn't one of them, "If you say so, Usako."
"Thank you," She acknowledged primly, before continuing with the conversation despite him and his attempt to end it, "And it's not that you're not hotter as Tuxedo Mask, or even just you-- personally I don't really have a preference."
Mamoru's eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline because he knew very well that even if she didn't have a preference she definitely had way more fantasies concerning his masked alter ego than she would probably admit to. Right now, anyway.
She continued on, unfazed, "But Moonlight Knight was just like... Different, you know? Definitely beat the 'dramaticness' of Tuxedo Mask sometimes and the white roses were so dreamy... And the way you said 'ad-ew' every tim--"
"Ad-ew?" He echoed, and she flashed him an adorably irritated look as he interrupted her. The smirk that pulled at his lips was reflexive.
"Yes, the word for Goodbye in French? Ad-ew." She answered, her tone implying the unspoken duh.
The smirk became a full blown smile as he looked at her from his place on the couch. It was a smile she had become very intimate with very quickly after she'd first met him, the smile of a Mamoru who was endlessly amused (and simultaneously thinking she was the most adorable thing in the world, though she had not learned that until much later) with her and her antics. She narrowed her eyes at him.
"What?"
"It's not Ad-ew, Usako."
"It's not?" She untensed, brow furrowed with slight confusion. She knew better than to argue with him about a foreign language when she had barely passed the one foreign language course she'd been required to take.
"No, it's not." He finally set the book he had been reading down on the coffee table, "It's adieu."
There was a small but very audible gasp from her and before he could look up from where he'd placed his book, Usagi had joined him on the couch and left absolutely no space between them as her hands grasped his arm. He jolted slightly in surprise, gaze flying up to see Usagi staring at him with star-struck blue eyes.
"Yes! That was it! Say it again!"
"Ad-adieu?" No matter how many times she'd done this, he couldn't help the blush that heated his cheeks and reddened the tips of his ears at the attention.
She practically melted against his side, hugging his arm as she did sometimes. A dreamy sigh left her.
"Say something else in French, Mamo-chan? Pleaseeee?"
"Usa-"
"My name isn't French!"
Anon! This is super cute! Please make an Ao3 account and write for my personal enjoyment LOL (everyone else can read, too, I suppose lolol.)
But for sure, if this is what you write into an ask box, please consider posting your work!!!!
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Steve ran down the broken mall escalator nearly tripping as his vision was watery and tears streaming down his face. He needed billy. No one was gonna stop him from going to him not even robin.
He was fueled with emotions. Sad.hurt. And absolutely shattered the love of his life got killed right in front of him and he couldn’t do anything to stop him from getting hurt. He blocked out robin who was running after him telling him to slow down he knew what he was going to see but emotionally he was already damaged. “He’s alone.. he doesn’t want to be alone..” Steve said in a broken voice.
he passed Dustin and Lucas heading straight to max and billy slowly kneeling down on the other side of billy and with the sad but yet reassuring approval of max he was able to hold billy in his arms brushing the blood matted blonde lock of hair out of billy’s face. He didn’t care that the police and ambulance was coming as fast as they could his lover was dying and he wasn’t gonna leave him alone in the destroyed star court mall by himself.
“ I wish I could have been there for you…” he said quietly looking down at billy. “ I wish you stayed a little longer.. “ billy slowly with all the energy he had left laid his blood covered hand on Steve’s cheek wiping the tear away from his face. “Her-..here I am..”
Instantly steve broke down crying and holding onto his hand filled with all of the emotions taking over him. “ there you are.. stay with me okay.. please I’m not letting you die here.”
I actually wrote fic! For the @stevetonygames for team kill, as a gift for @kiyaar and as a fill for the square “rejection”.
Anything
by MassiveSpaceWren
Words: 497
Pairing: Steve/Tony
Tags: angst, civil warrior, permanent injury, body horror, (a little), suicidal thoughts, suicidal ideation, open ending,
Summary: Civil Warrior Steve jumps into a new universe, always looking for the one person he lost in his own: Tony Stark.
[here on AO3]
Ok, I am getting an idea for a mini ficlet and wanna hear what y’all think: A Halloween DMC story where Dante, Vergil, and Nero go on a mission to a “haunted” lighthouse in Fortuna and find the ghost of Nero’s mom.
