he was thirteen~

When You Have 12 Kids

Okay so there was this one part in the V app where S.Coups suddenly started counting the members, seemed to think that someone’s missing and asks Jun to count on his side-

The two proceed to count the members, Jun insists that he counted thirteen.

S.Coups is bewildered, insists that there are only twelve of them, making Jun uneasy even though he still counts thirteen-

Then our very much starting to panic leader hyung finally realizes the “missing member” is Mingyu while Jun dies laughing in the back-

  • goodbyes are never how you hope they will be


  • harry is a tiny thing, just a few months old, when he meets him for the first time
  • lily tries to help him get comfortable holding harry, but it’s an impossible task; he will always be uneasy around children
  • (monsters shouldn’t touch them)
  • “don’t worry, moony,” james says, clapping a hand on his back. “we’ll be here when it’s all over, you’ll see him again.”
  • a lump forms in his throat
  • (will he still be here when it’s all over?)
  • he looks down and harry looks up at him with keen interest; he already has a shock of james’ hair and he has definitely inherited lily’s eyes
  • he’s a beautiful boy, a bright spot in a long, seemingly endless darkness
  • when he eventually manages to reply, his voice is hoarse with emotion
  • “yeah, i’ll see you again when it’s all over, harry.”
  • he’s painfully aware that when it’s all over is no time soon
  • (he never dreamed thirteen years, but life is cruel that way)


  • he comes to visit them one last time and lily and james are so happy to see him
  • (if only they knew)
  • they sit in the living room and catch up, harry gleefully terrorising the cat on the carpet
  • after twenty minutes or so, lily and james realise that they haven’t offered him anything to eat or drink since he arrived and rush into the kitchen to see what they have
  • (it’s been a long time since the potters entertained anyone, they’re out of practice)
  • “wormy, you don’t mind watching harry for a minute, do you?”
  • and he does mind, he minds very much
  • because he looks at this child, with james’ hair and lily’s eyes
  • and harry, like his parents, is so happy to see his uncle wormy
  • but peter knows what’s coming
  • and he knows it’s all his fault
  • so he bends down next to harry, and he almost cries when harry laughs when he ruffles his hair
  • (james’ hair)
  • and peter has only one thing to say to harry
  • “sorry.”


  • one of the only things keeping james sane through this entire ordeal is harry; playing with his son is the highlight of his life while he’s stuck indoors
  • one day, he’ll take him out in that unused pram to play in the park near bathilda’s
  • one day he’ll teach harry how to fly
  • (one day one day one day; he repeats it like a mantra)
  • but, for now, all he can do is blow coloured puffs of smoke from the end of his wand and chase him around the house on a miniature broomstick
  • and it’s enough for harry
  • (it’s nowhere near enough for james, but it’ll do for now)
  • (one day one day one day)
  • when lily comes to take harry to bed, it feels like any other night
  • (it’s not it’s not it’s not)
  • he gives him one last cuddle, a sloppy kiss and a ruffle of his hair that sends harry into hysterics, and he waves cheerfully as harry ascends the stairs in lily’s arms
  • “see you in the morning, champ!”
  • (there is no morning for james)


  • it’s all a rush, really: the sound of a small explosion, james’ panicked voice telling her take harry and go!, then the thump of james’ body hitting the floor
  • there is no time to cry, to run, to find her wand, to build a proper defence
  • there is no time to say goodbye


  • the sight is worse than he could have imagined; the house is smoking, broken, ruined
  • he finds james on the floor, his body contorted into an unnatural position in death, his hazel eyes open and vacant
  • he stares blankly until thunderous footsteps tear him from his reverie; hagrid descends the stairs, but his eyes somehow immediately find tiny harry in his arms
  • “harry!” he reaches for his godson and harry stretches his chubby fingers towards him
  • but when hagrid refuses to hand him over, he knows what he has to do
  • so he grasps harry’s tiny hands in his and presses his face into his hair and kisses him on the cheek
  • “i’ll sort it all out, mate,” he promises. “then we can be a family. you’ll see.”
Misha cut when he was thirteen.

He had a really rough childhood and this was his way to cope. Sometimes people forget that actors are real people, with real problems. And they forget that sometimes, we have problems too.

If anyone is feeling depressed or even just a bit sad, feel free to send me a message or an anonymous ask. I’m happy to help.

Destined {Poe Dameron x Reader} Soulmate!AU

Could you do a Poe x reader soulmate au where they can hear each other’s thoughts ? Maybe Poe likes to think really cheesy stuff just to make reader blush?

A/N: I actually really enjoyed writing this but I’m having mixed feelings about how it turned out so feedback is certainly welcomed on this! I also feel like I may have strayed from the original ask a little but I hope you like it!

Soulmate. That’s what they called it. The voice in your head. You could hear him all the time. Since the age of thirteen he was always a constant presence in your mind. Poe Dameron, that’s what the voice called himself. At first he was so loud and overbearing. The constant chatter of someone else consciousness made it a little hard for the first couple weeks to function properly. After a while you learned to tune him out, turning his presence from a roar to a quiet whisper.

“Your lucky to have a soulmate.” your mother had told you. “Almost everyone does but could you imagine what it feels like for those who don’t? Knowing that there’s no one out there you’re destined to be with?”

Soon you realized he could hear you too. You found yourselves talking to one another regularly and over the years it developed into a close friendship. Poe became your best friend, One that’s with you wherever you go. He knew you better than possibly even yourself, but what could you expect from someone who practically lives in your head.

“You know, I was thinking.” Poe started

“You’re always thinking.” you said picking a fruit off the stand in front of you. The market was always busy at this time of day. People of all sorts of species flocked around you moving from one stand to the next. 

“Did you hear me?” he asked

You turned your attention from the crowd back to the voice in your head. “Sorry, say it again.”

“I was thinking that after all these years you’ve never asked me what I look like.”

It had crossed your mind before but you never bothered to ask. You figured that regardless of what he looked like that wouldn’t change the fact that he’s your soulmate, and with him always in your mind it became easy to forget that the voice was an actual being living an actual life. “You’ve never asked me.” you said throwing his accusation back at him.

You could hear the amusement in his tone “Maybe I want to be surprised.”

“oh you’ll be surprised. I’m actually part lizard.” you teased, glancing around the fruit stand once more before moving off to the vegetable booth.

Poe was silent for a moment but you could faintly hear his train of thought mulling over the possibility of you belonging to a lizard species. “Your Lying.” 

“How do you know that?” You thought, tucking vegetables into your basket. An old woman sat behind the booth counter watching you closely.

“I can feel it.”

You raised your brows. So Poe is a physic now. “Oh yeah, What else can you feel?” 

“If what I’m sensing is accurate,” he began “I would have to say you’re probably the most beautiful girl in the galaxy.”

Warmth spread through your cheeks turning them a shade of pink. You smiled absently down at the food in your hand “Poe Dameron. That is the cheesiest thing you’ve ever said to me.” you placed the vegetable in your basket and looked over at the old woman expecting her to charge you for the food. You were shocked to find her already looking at you with a wide smile. She gestured to your blushed face and tapped lightly at the side of her head. She understood what was going on. You smiled back at her “Hes quite the character.” You said handing the credits in her direction. 

“Your embarrassed, why?” Poe asked.

“Some old lady just caught me blushing like an idiot.”

“I made you blush? You must really like me!” he was teasing you.

You rolled your eyes, trying to navigate your way out of the market “Careful, I might change my mind.”

“No you couldn’t possibly. Were destined for each other.”

You paused. Were you really destined for each other? Your connection says yes but most people you know have met their soulmate by now.

“Whats wrong? I can hear you worrying.”

“its- its nothing.” you continued walking.

“Remember when I said I could feel you lying? I can feel that now.”

The street in this part of town was just as crowded as the market place. You were never one for crowds so you weaved in and out of people tying to get through as quickly as possible. “I just want to meet you. The real you.”

It was Poe’s turn to pause. “Soon.” He said. “Fate will bring us together.”

That was always his excuse “I’m tired of waiting for-” You collided with a man, stopping your train of thought. Your basket nearly slipped from your grip but you caught a good hold just in time. “I’m so sorry!” You apologized, making sure you hadn’t hurt him when you slammed into him. 

The smile he gave you was kind. “No problem ma’m. I should have been watching where I was going.” What a gentleman taking all the blame. 

You smiled back at him awkwardly “Well I’ll just get going.” you said excusing yourself, and you both continued in your respected ways.

“Sorry about that a girl just hit into me what were you saying?” Poe asked.

You laughed at the irony. “Funny because I just ran into a guy. I don’t think he’s from around here. He’s dressed a little to warm for our weather.”

“This girl looked so shaken when she hit me. She almost lost her basket when we crashed.”

You slowed your pace. “A basket?” you said looking down at your own.

“Yeah full of all kinds of food. She probably just came from this market down here.”

guardian angel // liam dunbar

Originally posted by transformationsx

request: Can I request a Liam Dunbar imagine where your his guardian angel and he falls for you? (by anon)


Liam’s eight.

He’s at the height of innocence and his days are filled with rambunctious laughter and having fun with his friends and he doesn’t have a care in the world.

It’s the 19th of June when he meets you.

His mother falls in love with you instantly and soon enough, Liam grows attached to you too.

He begins to spend more time lazing around in the sun, trying to make flower crowns and failing terribly each time, and you soon grow to love the outdoors - outside of your little front yard -  and Liam drags you along on little adventures every afternoon, exploring a little more each day.

You two become the best of friends, and life before you met each other is soon forgotten.

Liam’s thirteen.

He’s beginning to experience the confusing whirlwind of hormones and puberty and he just doesn’t know what to do.

He’s angry and exhausted and confused all the time and he’s a mess of frayed nerves and incomprehensible thoughts.

It’s during a P.E. lesson when he explodes.

A stupid boy is absolutely terrible when it comes to remotely anything physically exerting, and the basketball leaves his skinny, trembling hands and Liam is too busy watching you from across the hall and the bright orange rubber ball of fucking air slams into his nose at a surprising speed and he’s furious.

He doesn’t even know why he’s so enraged as his brain is thrown into a frenzy and his ears start ringing incessantly and all he can register is stalking over to the skinny bag of bones they called a boy and warm liquid is gushing from his nose and his fists clench and all he sees is red hot fury and then there’s a sickening crack.

Liam’s shaking and thrashing and fighting as foreign hands are pulling at his flailing limbs and then he hears your voice, soft and calming and soothing and your gentle hands find your way to his and he feels his heartbeat slowing.

You’re by his side when the doctor diagnoses him as having something called Intermittent Explosive Disorder.

It sounds disgusting and Liam doesn’t dare to look you in the eye because there’s something wrong with him and you’re too good for that.

The doctor prescribes him with a multitude of antidepressants and Liam resists the urge to scoff loudly, because those pills are useless - you were his medicine, and nobody but him would know that.

Liam’s sixteen.

He gets kicked out of Devenford and has to transfer to Beacon Hills and you transfer with him, because neither can stand the thought of being away from each other - the idea is preposterous.

Everything is going well - he’s one of the best players on the lacrosse team, his grades are great, he has you by his side - then he gets bitten.

He had been wanting to tell you for months now - how much he adored the way you laughed, how much he cared about you, how he loved you so fucking much.

And now Liam can’t even bring himself to look in your direction.

Your scent is overwhelming and the only thing he can focus on is you and your voice and oh, god, he wants you so bad.

But now he was a werewolf, and anything could send him off the edge and he tries to control himself - he tries so damn hard - because if he ever hurt you, he would never be able to live with himself because it was you.

It’s the night of the scrimmage between Devenford and Beacon Hills and Liam is panicking because one slip-up and everyone would know what he was and you would leave him instantly because he was an even bigger monster than before and who could blame you for wanting to get the hell away from him?

Liam’s been waiting the whole day to kick Brett’s smug ass, but then he sees Brett wink at you and he almost loses it because you’re his and how dare he?

You’ve been on the edge of your seat the entire evening, eyeing Liam worriedly, because he’s been so on edge and tense recently that you can’t help but worry.

Liam begins to shake and tremble and you can see his jaw clench and you’re out of your seat in two seconds.

Your hands are cupping his face and you let Liam clutch your arms painfully and he’s staring into your eyes and you’re lost in a stormy sea of blue and with a whispered ‘I believe in you’, you gently push Liam in the direction of the field, and with a reassuring smile, he’s off.

Your fists are clenched so tightly throughout the scrimmage that the pain from the bruises Liam left on your arms seems like a dull, nagging ache at the back of your mind.

Beacon Hills wins.

You’re ecstatic as you rush down to the benches and Liam is speeding toward with a gorgeous smile on his beautiful face and he scoops you up in his taut arms and his lips are on yours and it might just be a scrimmage but he doesn’t care, and suddenly, nothing else matters.

There’re no fireworks or flying sparks or explosions but instead there’s a delightful, welcoming warmth as your lips meet his and your body fits perfectly in his and it’s pure heaven.

Both of you pull apart, grinning and regretting absolutely nothing, and in that moment, Liam feels invincible, because he’s in love.

The two of you spend the night in Liam’s room, bodies moulded together, all the secrets spilled because Liam can’t lie to you.

Liam lays there, you in his arms, and everything feels right, for once in a long, long, time.

You’re his guardian angel, and he may be a monster, but you were his, and he was yours, and that was all that really mattered.

a/n: oh shit got carried away :’-) oh well

- roxanna

wither me down

Summary: It’s strange, how Otabek doesn’t mind that his lungs are filled with flowers and each day is more agonizing than the last. After all, loving Yuri Plisetsky is a privilege in and of itself. (belated happy valentine’s day! warning for character death, otayuri, hanahaki au, word count: 6166)

He first meets Yuri when he is twelve, almost thirteen. He is hunched over, heaving from the strenuous exercise that Yakov made them do, and he looks up to try again when he sees him. He must be ten at the oldest, and is without a doubt the best student in that room. Otabek never pays much attention to the other students, but this time he looks at this boy, who manages to complete the exercise he’s been struggling with effortlessly.

And then the boy’s head turned to look at his direction, and he is captivated.

Keep reading

I was thinking that Mike doesn’t really know how to show his affection for Eleven once she gets back. I mean, obviously, he has deep affection (and love) for this girl but he’s twelve to thirteen so he doesn’t really know how to express that at first. He wants to be close to her all the time but his dilemma is how he’s supposed to do that without grossing her out, or worse, scaring her? So he stays nearby but not too close and always gets a thrill when Eleven sits next to him and leans into him, resting her head on his shoulder. Only then does he quietly grab her hand and rest his head on top of hers.

And when they’re walking and he’ll hold her hand, she’ll intertwine her fingers with his and he’ll gently pull her arm close to his side, which leads to the added bonus of pulling her close too.

Sometimes, though, he’ll kiss her on the cheek. Kissing her on the lips always feels like such a big thing to do, although honestly (and the thought always makes him blush so much he’s sure his face is going to melt off one of these days) he’d like to kiss her like that all the time.

Charlie Weasley decides he’s uninterested in kissing or anything that goes along with it after three increasingly unsuccessful kisses.

The first, with his best friend Dora Tonks, is just unappealing. He doesn’t really like the feeling of someone else’s tongue in his mouth. He thinks, it’s like kissing my sister…I know her so well it doesn’t count.

The next kiss with a pretty Ravenclaw prefect Bill sets him on a date with. Her kiss is so awful he has to leave in the middle of the date. He thinks, I guess I just don’t like girls.

His third kiss, a few weeks into his sixth year, is with the seeker of the Slytherin House team. This kiss is so incredibly awful that he’s actually grateful when thirteen year old Oliver Wood finds them and shouts that their very captain is a traitor to the team. (And if he’s so grateful that he gives Oliver the Keeper position that year instead of Cormac McLaggen, well…he chose well.)

He was never interested in any of that. Dragons, on the other hand…

So there’s this tradition in Starfleet when a cadet graduates. 

When you step off the stage after accepting your degree, you’re supposed to slip your cadet dogtags off your neck and give them to the person who helped you graduate, who got you through it. 

Most, predictably, give it to their moms. Some, their dads, who served themselves. Usually, their significant others. 

Jim’s mom couldn’t make it. And well, everyone knows why his dad wasn’t there (a fact the admirals keep wanting him to cash in on–they even asked him to make a speech at graduation. Pike told them where to stick it.)

Anyway, they graduate the Bridge Crew of the Enterprise first–the ones who hadn’t. It’s mostly ceremonial recognition but Jim’s glad for it. He’s not usually nervous on stage–although large crowds have made him anxious since he was thirteen–but it’s hot and his ribs still burn and he’s so damn tired. He hasn’t slept since, well, before his hearing. And that was only a few weeks ago. Fuck.

But before it, he’s walking across the stage, shaking hands with the brass, and getting pinned–Captain’s pin–and smiling. Somehow, after everything, he’s smiling. 

Awkwardly, as he’s jogging down the steps, Starfleet uniform cap pinned at his side, hand scrabbling under his collar for the dogtags as he’s walking a few aisles away from his own seat. 

“Hey hot shot, your seat’s over there,” Bones tells him–but he’s grinning toward the place where Pike and the other Captains are waiting. 

“Bones-” Jim’s got a good grip on the chain even though he’s fucking hands are sweaty. 

Maybe it’s a stupid fucking idea. Bones didn’t give his tags to anyone. And why would he? Besides a little girl in Georgia, there was no one else. 

Before he can think too much about it, he tugs it off, holding it in front of him. 

“Aw, kid.” Bones whispers. 

And before Jim can about face or apologize or take back the sentimental gesture, Bones takes his fist out of his pocket, knuckles white, and loosens his grip, giving way to a palm indented by the punched out metal lettering: Leonard H. McCoy, Starfleet Cadet, ID: 116592213

“No one else I would have given them to.”

Somewhere, someone hoots–probably Cupcake, maybe Uhura and then Bones is pulling Jim closer, fingers lightly grazing his jaw, the back of his neck, gripping into his hair. 

The kiss is a surprise–Jim’s mouth is dry, his lips are chapped, but it feels so damn right and maybe Jim’s cheek flushes, and maybe Chris Pike laughs out loud but it’s worth it. Definitely worth it. 

So desk sex, right?  Well, really–Cullen’s been in Chantry schools, templar training, or Circle dorms since he was thirteen.  He probably only got his own room when he became Knight Captain, really, if not shortly before.  Dorms and, rather infamously, Circles, are not the sort of place where you have bedtime privacy, and so naturally they’re not the sort of place where you really expect to have bedtime sex.  You get it on wherever and whenever you have a modicum of privacy, and ‘privacy’, under such circumstances, is usually as dependent on everyone politely not observing as on actually being out of sight.  

I dunno, given that sort of background, I feel like desk sex is spontaneous but not really all that surprising.  Probably bed sex would feel like the daring luxury at first.

You wanted me to write it, so here it is. This one’s for you, my sweet lil anon. <3

Alec Lightwood has always been sensitive about his height.

His mother constantly told him to stand tall, because warriors didn’t show any signs of weakness. He knows he isn’t weak, but he often sees his height as some sort of flaw. Something he needs to fix.

So, he slouches.

He knows it isn’t attractive, but he hates the way he towers over everyone he meets. When he first started training with Izzy and Jace, their instructors hated his posture. They used to do everything to try make him stand straight. He remembers one time when he was around thirteen, they’d made him stand with his back to the wall while they trained Izzy and Jace instead. He hadn’t been allowed to move for an entire hour.

As soon as they told him he could stop and move away from the wall, he went straight back to slouching just to piss them off.

It’s only when he’s alone that he stands straight.

He sighs and wanders the corridors of the institute aimlessly for a while, having finished up for the day. He finally settles on doing some training by himself. Hodge isn’t in the training room like he is normally, and Alec is grateful for it. He doesn’t feel like having company right now.

He builds up a sweat, beating the punching bag with his fists, power behind every hit, until his knuckles are sore. There’s a sick sort of pleasure in the pain.

He takes a break after a while, and grabs some water. He takes off his shirt, still breathing heavily, and stretches, feeling the muscles in his back flex. He closes his eyes and raises his arms above his head, hearing a few satisfying pops and cracks. He makes a humming noise deep in the back of his throat before dropping his arms and turning around to grab his shirt.

What he sees takes him by surprise.


Magnus doesn’t respond immediately. His eyes are lingering on Alec’s chest, and he makes no move to stop staring. How long had he been there?

Alec decides to try again. “Magnus?”

The warlock snaps out of it then, shaking his head and gazing up at Alec, his eyes a little glazed over.

“Alexander,” he begins, clearing his throat, “I came to inform you that your sister and I have finished looking over the corpse of the forsaken.”

It isn’t a total lie, but Magnus has already told Maryse, so really there’s no need for him to tell Alec. But Alec doesn’t need to know that Magnus just wanted an excuse to come and see him. The truth is, Magnus has been wandering the corridors of the institute for a little while (and getting a a bit lost along the way) trying to find Alec.

Alec just nods, feeling slightly self conscious, and grabs his hoodie from the bench, sliding his arms into the sleeves.

“You don’t need to get dressed up for me.”

Alec ignores this, pulling his hoodie around him and shooting Magnus a disapproving look. He doesn’t let it show that he’s secretly flattered, and hopes that Magnus will think the blush staining the tips of his cheeks is from the training.

Magnus just sends a quick thankyou to all the angels when Alec doesn’t zip up his hoodie.

He looks at Alec and purses his lips in thought for a moment, considering him. “May I ask you a question, Alec?”

“You just did.” Alec says flatly, but his eyes twinkle with amusement and his lips tip up at the corner.

Magnus flashes a smile back at him before asking, “Why do you slouch?”

Alec’s smile is gone as quickly as it had appeared, and he realises he isn’t currently slouching. He looks down at his feet awkwardly, and a lock of hair falls into his eyes.

Magnus moves forward slowly, as if he’s approaching a frightened deer he’s being careful not to scare away.

“Alec,” he says gently, reaching out and tipping his chin up, and giving him a reassuring smile. He moves closer, and they’re practically inches apart now. Alec tilts his head slightly, inquisitively, and his gaze drops to Magnus’ lips. This is fucking crazy. They barely know each other, and yet Alec feels himself flowing toward him.

Magnus grins then, as if he knows exactly what Alec is thinking about. “You should stand tall, be proud, and take up space for once, instead of convincing yourself that you are a waste of it. I know self-loathing all too well,” Alec’s brows lift up at that, surprise in his features, but Magnus continues, “You have nothing to be ashamed of, Alec. I, for one, think that you’re beautiful. I don’t believe I’ve tried to hide that, and I will remind you of it as often as it takes for you to believe it.” He flashes Alec a roguish grin, and Alec rolls his eyes and bites his lip, fighting a smile.

“Every glorious inch of you is worth seeing, Alec Lightwood.”

Alec doesn’t let Magnus say anything else, because he surges forward and captures Magnus’ lips. When he realises Magnus is having to stand on his tip-toes to kiss him, he can’t hold back his hysterics, and Magnus doesn’t even bother trying to fight the smile that curves his lips.

Alec never slouches after that.

To The Hommie Who asked About Yoongi’s Donger... (My Opinion)

Now, this is a story all about how

My life got flipped-turned upside down

And I’d like to take a minute

Just sit right there…..

Okie first of all I personally think Yoongi has a pencil dick (hella long but very slim) he so slim and delicate but like damn boy be packing…. I can picture that tbh 

…Why you ask well just look at the boy he is a cute little bean pole like he is just precious….So it makes sense for him to be very slim when it comes to his donger.. granted he is very long meaning BOY BE PACKING….

Just imagine a pencil:

Still not convinced?…. well look at this boy’s feet!!!:

Exhibit B:

Jesus what is he a thirteen?

Suga has very slender feet so it makes sense for him to be on the slimmer side when it comes to his dingaling……

JUST LOOK at those ballerina feet!!!

May or may not have a food fetish because of this boy …

Don’t believe me yet?…

Exhibit C:

OMG what are this?!!!!!

IT just looks very slim and long like I can basically see it through his pants…..

Still don’t believe me ?: Look at this VINE!!!



In conclusion Yoongi has a pencil dick  meaning he is longer than he is wide like he’s very long probably 4-5 inches above average but it’s very slim and sensitive…. 

 Still not convinced that he has a pencil dick???…

Look at this boys hands!!:

Exhibit D: (wink wink)

They look like porcelain Twizzlers…    




Like I said in my other posts  I have heard that Idols sometimes don’t wear underwear because of how tight their pants are and they wear a cup so this could also be why the bulges differ in size… Idk let me know what you think ……

To the perosn who requested this sorry it took so long to post I had to collect my evidence and make sure it was accurate..but here you go…

Again this is all the proof I have and if you have any opinions feel free to share… I wonder how big the other members are tbh ..


viktor grows a fabulous mane when he gets locked in a tower like a fucking princess.

i intended this au to be based on the rapunzel fairytale (because long-haired viktor, hello) but it kind of got out of hand.

imagine when viktor, the first son of a grand duke, presented as an omega when he was thirteen.

his father was very pleased, of course, because omegas were prized in these lands; imagine all that dowry that came with marrying off his son! it would be necessary to protect viktor’s purity, the duke decided, just until viktor was of marriageable age.

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avatarsymbolismsblogs  asked:

au + 5 hc - maiko military au where Mai's uncle commands Zuko's unit

1. Instead of banishing Zuko, Ozai has him assigned to the very unit of soldiers he had tried to defend in the war meeting.  He is stripped of his title, and written out of the royal family.  He is thirteen and a literal child soldier, being sent to a unit that is expected to make a suicide charge.  And he is one of only a handful of survivors.  He survives the battle buried under the corpses of his new comrades.  Really brings home to him that his father never intended him to return.

2. Iroh is barred from going with him, or even from knowing where he was sent.  Once it becomes clear that he intends to cause all kinds of trouble, Ozai has him quietly assassinated via poisoned tea.

3. After the battle, Zuko is promptly reassigned.  His paperwork says he’s sixteen, but any commanding officer with half a brain can tell he’s thirteen, but other than his age and his first name, there is nothing to connect him to the Firelord’s disowned son.  In fact, most people in the army don’t even know enough about the royal family to know the Firelord even had a son.  Also Ozai assumes Zuko is dead.  This is going to lead to a very rude awakening for him down the road.  Occasionally, however, he is recognized, for example when he is assigned to Mai’s uncle’s unit when he’s fifteen.

4. At fifteen, he is hostile, swings between brooding quiet and shouting, and is absolutely incapable of civil conversation with his fellow soldiers.  He also has no goal he’s working toward.  There is no promise of a return home if he captures the Avatar.  He has seen horrible brutal things, abominations on both sides, and at this point is just putting one foot in front of the other and surviving.  He is also extremely brave, and has a habit of gaining honors and punishments in equal measure.  There’s a part of the future warden of the Boiling Rock that wonders just what Zuko would have been like with a normal princely upbringing and royal education.

5. When Mai’s uncle is made warden, he quietly has Zuko assigned to the garrison in Omashu.  Mai, who spent years thinking he was dead, is overjoyed to see him again, not that she has any way of showing it.  When Azula comes, Mai hides him away, but when she leaves, he leaves too, deserting his post to find the same Avatar Azula has taken Mai hunting.  The Avatar’s promise, to end the war, to stop the killing, is the first real ray of hope Zuko has seen in a long, long time.

And this is how Aang ends up with a half-feral firebender for a teacher.

Bodhi Rook: the one that made it out

Was Bodhi really the only one that Galen ever tried to use to get a message out to the Rebellion? I mean, he had thirteen years of plotting and planning, and surely during that time he figured he had to let someone know about the flaw in the Death Star. There’s no point in having a flaw in a superweapon you don’t want used unless someone other than you - someone in a position to do something - knows of it.

So maybe Bodhi wasn’t the first Empire employee Galen tried to use. Maybe there were others whom Galen didn’t trust as much to tell the whole deal (just hinting to start with), or who broke down under the pressure before he could send them out, or got shot down while they were getting out without giving away his secrets. Maybe Bodhi was just the one lucky and skilled enough, who believed what Galen told him (the whole story this time, because at this stage, Galen is useless to the project but the flaw has already been completed) and gathered his courage together, who saw his chance and took it, and who made it out and got away.

“History is written by the victors,” he says sagely, and takes a drag on his vape pen. It is a lesson that has stuck with him ever since he was thirteen years old, playing Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2. “Who’s to say that Hitler wasn’t the real hero? I guess we’ll never know, and it’s all the Jews’ fault.” 

He bows his head, ever so slightly, in a gesture of sorrow for lost knowledge. “Til Valhalla.” His trilby slips off and lands in the overflowing litter box.