#atla long shot

[click23space]

art dump pt4!!

(plus some old wip)

[1v31182m5]

Lost Avatar AU original post

[ikol-art]

Saw a tag game that I liked.. not that I was tagged but I don't actually care, I'm doing it

Rules: make a poll with five of your all time favourite characters and then tag five people to do the same. See which character is everyone’s favourite.

Tagging @wanderingtrickster @charon-cries @gramnel @lokidanger @vvviktor

[ragzonacamrencruise]

Azutara #49

oooooh prompt 49 is boss/intern au

this is going to be fun 😈

***

Katara bites her lip in anticipation. "Should I be scared?"

"Oh, definitely." Sokka nods his head without taking his eyes of the screen. "Your knees should be giving way underneath you right now, trust me."

Katara gulps. She looks all around in nervousness. It's a huge bull-pen. Eight in the morning and the whole area is already bustling, telephones ringing insistently, loud chatter providing a strange ambience, exchanges of good morning and news about their weekends.

Everyone's pristine and crisp here at Agni Incorp., and Katara already feels overwhelmed. She has no idea how her brother does it sometimes, being the Head of Engineering at the most prestigious and posh company like this one. She's just managed to land an internship opportunity here, due to her brother's heavy recommendation, and it's just her first day! Because the company had been looking for young and brilliant minds to do their work, she'd been instantly selected by someone called Zhu Li.

She tries not to worry too much. But Sokka's recent updates on who'll be leading them for the next 6 months had already made her gut bottom out.

Azula Agni.

People knew very little about her. Mostly because she always worked in the shadows of their company, Sokka had told her. There's a reason the main hall, Which Ozai Agni runs, is somewhere below them in an easily accessible, busy floor, rather than high up at the top floor, which Azula was allocated to.

It also did not help when Sokka told her about the time Azula had made an employee literally pee his pants the very first day she arrived here at the Strategic Management Department. Sokka had been complaining the whole time about what an engineer is doing 'strategically managing', but then he'd also said that he's never worked more in his entire life. Azula's been taking over things here. She's brought forth humongous changes that always boost up the sidelines.

There's a reason they call her the Shadow Director of the entire company in just two months.

Sokka's eyes lift up to Katara from where he's stitting at his desk, a lowly shift from what he was accustomed to in Ozai's floor. "Don't worry. You're a smart girl. You'll fit in just fine. Also, make sure not to talk back. She hates that."

Okay, now Katara's pretty sure that Azula isn't that haughty. Sure she's a little intimidating from what she's been hearing from not just Sokka, but literally everyone present at the bull-pen, talking about how they need to get something right cuz if Azula finds even a single mistake, she's gonna burn the whole place to the ground.

But how bad can it be, right?

Right?

Wrong.

All heads suddenly turn to the elevator when it dings sharply at 8 on the nose. Silence falls heavily inside the great hall and Katara's heart rate increases tenfold. The elevator door opens and it first reveals a short woman with Harry Potter spectacles on her button nose, her hair in a bun and her body clad in official dark green, business suit. She has short bangs that frame her forehead and she walks out in crisp strides.

And then, Katara's heart really does stop.

Behind her, is one of the most beautiful girls she's ever laid her eyes on, if not the most beautiful girl in the world. Her skin is pale, compared to Katara's darker complexion, and her hair is also in a bun, but two strands of hair loose from the bun frame her face perfectly in the most mind-numbingly gorgeous way possible. Katara tries not to drool. But it's hard not to.

She steps out of the elevator, her posture as straight as a rod. Unlike the first woman, she takes slow, deliberate steps into the bull-pen, sliding in, right into the middle of the whole hall. She pauses.

From this angle, Katara can see that the girl is quite young. In fact, Katara's sure she's not older than herself. She's clad in a simple but quite a fine suit Katara's ever seen. It's a black shirt with a deep red blazer thrown over her delicate torso, completing the look with a black pant and a red tie.

The girl turns her head in deadly precision, sweeping the room with her eyes, looking at every single person present. If it's not for the occasional telephone ringing somewhere in the corner, you could've droped a feather and it would've made noise, Katara's pretty sure.

Everybody is on alert and that immediately puts Katara on edge, her body stiff as a post. The girl's head is turning, slowly, and for some strange reason, Katara feels like she's going to pass out, from all the anticipation and the stress that this whole situation brings her.

When the girl's head turns completely to her right, the first thing Katara notices is that her eyes are striking golden. A rare gold mixed with brown that she hasn't seen on anyone ever.

And she almost does pass out when those eyes suddenly fall directly on her.

She lets out a silent whimper, not really sure why she's having a physical reaction to the girl just looking at her. But it's not just any look. It's the kinda look that could melt stone if you point at it long enough. Katara feels her face heat up under the scrutinizing gaze, completely giving herself over to the girl's stare.

Then it's gone. The eyes are completely gone and they move on to Sokka standing next to her and then to the next person whoever that is, and Katara's breath returns back to her lungs.

She feels her head spin for a second, but she holds her composture. And suddenly, there's a snap of fingers in front of her face. She looks up and almost jumps out of her skin when she finds the girl looking directly at her, again.

But this time, she gestures with a finger to follow her into her office, and then, like a whirlwind, she's gone. Completely out of sight.

Katara remains frozen in place, her brain in a frenzy, not really sure what just happened. Chatter and indistinct noise returns back to the bull-pen and Katara feels the world come crashing down.

She feels a sharp nudge to her ribs. This time, she does jump out of her skin. "Wha-?"

"What are you standing here for?!" Sokka whisper-yells in her ear. "Azula just called you into her office!"

Katara blinks. "Wait- That's Azula?!"

"No, it was the queen of Ba Sing Se." Sokka gives her a look. "OF COURSE IT WAS AZULA! And if you aren't in her office in about 10 seconds, she's gonna burn the whole place down. Go! Go! Go!"

He pushes Katara heavily towards her office door at the end of the bull-pen. She stumbles across, trying to find the strength to face the golden-eyed girl again. For all the accounts she's heard, she didn't expect Azula Agni to be as pretty as that. In fact, to be honest, Katara was imagining Ursala the sea witch the whole time.

When she nears the door, she notices a big, secluded booth, where the lady with the Harry Potter spectacles is seated, her eyes lazer focused on the computer screen in front of her, looking like she's going over a dozen different things at once. And it hasn't even been like 5 minutes since she got here.

Feeling Katara's presence loom over her, she talks without looking up from her work. "Tell her I asked you to be here and she'll leave you alone." She states, her voice almost sounding like a robot.

Katara frowns, not really sure what that means, she doesn't really stick around for clarifications, seeing that the woman is already back to her work, not that she ever looked up.

Katara sucks in a deep breath before she raises her hand to knock but the woman's robotic voice beside her halts her. "Don't bother. She hates when people knock."

Katara's hand falls limply to her side. Okay, so this Azula seems to hate a lot of things. It's almost as if the things she hates are literally everything that makes a human, well, human.

She hesitantly opens the door, her body strangely building up confidence that she really needs right now as she steps through into the room.

It's huge. Everything is huge. The first thing she notices is the giant floor to ceiling glass window that has this incredible view over Republic City, as if it's some kind of a palace that governs over the whole of the city. The second thing she notices is the deep red couch placed right beside the window, and how fucking comfortable it looks. And only then does her eyes fall on the desk that is placed far inside the rectangle room, and the most comfortable swivelling chair she's seen, occupied by a tiny figure clad in red and black.

Katara looks at her nervously for a second, before walking inside, her confidence fading with each step. When she gets closer, Azula's face becomes clearer and well-defined and Katara has to physically stop herself from ogling.

A few seconds pass and Katara doesn't know what to do with herself, standing there awkwardly, staring at the girl. Then suddenly, the golden eyes fall on her and Katara has to stop herself from falling down on the ground with the sheer force of the glance.

"Who are you? Why are you here." The girl demands after a second, leaning back in her chair.

Katara blinks. "You called me here-"

"I was talking about your general presence in this building." each word is ice-cold, hitting like bullets inside Katara's brain. "Are you a spy?"

"Spy?"

"To the Cabbage Corp."

"No. Of course, not." Katara's well aware of the rivalry between the Cabbage Corp., and Agni Incorporation. She'd even briefly considered applying for a job in the Cabbage Corp., before her brother pestered her to come work here.

Azula doesn't answer. Instead, she just narrows her eyes, and Katara knows that she's looking for an explanation. So she provides her with one instantly. "I'm the new intern here." Azula's eyes narrow to slits, and Katara continues, noticing it. "Today's my first day."

Azula still doesn't answer, her face now sporting a full-on scowl. Katara immediately panics, not really knowing what she should be saying here. She squeezes her brain in a hurry, and then suddenly, she remembers.

"I was selected by her." Katara jerks her thumb in the general direction of the robotic lady sitting outside Azula's office.

That seems to do it. Azula's eyebrows immediately raise up slightly. "Zhu Li selected you?"

Katara nods slowly, finally putting a face to the name Zhu Li.

"An intern for what?" Azula asks her sharply.

Katara gulps. "I was told I needed to be assesed for at least a week before getting assigned for a catagory of work that I would go to."

Golden eyes scrutinize her for a long minute silently, making her feel suddenly naked. She looks all around the office room awkwardly, not really strong enough to meet those sharp, calculating eyes anymore.

"You will shadow Zhu Li for not one but two weeks. Learn what and why of the things we do here. When I get a report from Zhu Li at the end of the two weeks, I'll decide whether to keep you or kill you."

Wait- Kill her?!

Katara's eyes widen comically.

"Dismissed." Azula waves her hand non-chalantly, and Katara feels her feet getting a life of their own, following the order Azula Agni's hand gave them.

When she comes out the door, Zhu Li's voice sounds beside her. "How long?"

Katara turns to her, her eyes still not back to normal from the shock. "Two weeks. I'm supposed to shadow you for two weeks before she apparantly keeps me or kills me."

And only then Zhu Li looks up from her hectic typing on the computer, giving her a smirk. "Then you better start right away."

...

It feels like a whole year was cramped into one week, cuz that's how long the week was for Katara. Her neck hurts, her feet hurt, her back hurts and even her butt hurts!

She now understands why this was such a big deal. Why when she got here, all heads were either buried in their work or drowning in copius amounts of diluted cactus juice, cuz this shit is hectic.

She was looking forward to her weekend like she was crazy. She'd followed Zhu Li around like a puppy, taking notes of her notes, keeping track of Azula's schedule that Zhu Li had provided her with, and typing through endless amounts of transcripts of meetings after meetings Azula seemed to attend.

It's Friday afternoon and Katara can't wait to hit the bed in the lovely apartment she shares with Sokka.

She'd had a couple of run ins with Azula, her golden eyes poring into her soul every time she looked at her. And if Katara has learned anything in the past week, it was that Azula was ruthless.

She always wears red and black, and always holds her poise. Every time Azula walks into the bull-pen at sharp 8 o clock, she scans the room completely before heading into her office without fail. Katara's never once seen her lose her composture, sharp and to the point all the freaking time.

Katara still hasn't had the privilege of attending Azula's meetings. But she can imagine what it's like, just by reading through the transcripts. Every word she types as Azula's is pure golden, akin to her eyes. They hold such brevity and clarity that Katara can't help but be fascinated by the girl.

Every time she walks into a room, she holds this kind of regality, as if she was born to rule over them all, and Katara shudders thinking of the way Azula's eyes seems to peruse her, leaving her breathless and unnerved with just a singe glance.

The intern shakes her head, to pull herself away from day-dreaming. She's almost done with typing out the transcript for the meeting Azula attended to in the morning. And another meeting seems to be going on now. If she's done typing that out too, she's free to go and enjoy her weekend. So, her fingers fly on the keyboard as fast as they could possibly go.

She suddenly pauses, her eyes drawing attention to one line from Azula in the meeting minutes laid out on her desk :

"Perfection is always one step better than what you thought was perfect."

Katara blinks, flabbergasted. That is one of the most thoughtful things she's ever heard someone say. Or in this case, seen. And Azula's said it in a room full of the board of directors. The amount of power she holds just stuns Katara. The way she demands respect from every one that meets her is mind-blowing really.

It takes a long moment for Katara to move on from that line, as she wills herself to start typing again. She gradually forgets what's happening all around her, as she drowns herself in her work, making progress at record speed.

She's almost done with the work when she hears her name.

"Katara." Zhu Li is looking directly at her, standing before Katara's desk with a phone pressed against her ear. When Katara looks up snapping her eyes away from the monitor, Zhu Li gestures with her eyes and a tilt of her head to follow her.

Katara immediately springs into action, grabbing her notepad and pen, to rush behind Zhu Li. If she's supposed to be Zhu Li's shadow, she's gonna be just that.

Zhu Li makes her way to the other side of the bull-pen, where the meeting room is. Katara's heart starts beating faster when Zhu Li leads her straight to the meeting room, opening the door.

Katara's stomach flips in excitement. She's never been to the meetings and she's eager to see one where Azula's at the top of her game. Zhu Li steps inside through the door, and Katara follows right behind her.

". . . preserving the quality but also the cost. Design B is fuel efficient as well." Azula's saying, standing at the head of the table. When Zhu Li walks in, Azula's eyes snap to her. "Anything important, Zhu Li?"

Her tone is dangerous, and Katara's been here long enough to read it as, "This better be important or i'm gonna fire you for interrupting my meeting."

"Are you sure you wanna hear it here?" Zhu Li asks, looking around the meeting table, filled with board members and Katara guesses, the top order people of the company.

Azula narrows her eyes, seeming to contemplate it. But then she nods once, giving Zhu Li a green light.

Zhu Li hangs up her phone, the one that was pressed against her ear before saying, "Our shipment's been stolen."

Katara's eyes widen.

So does Azula's. "What?" She snaps.

All eyes in the room swivel to Zhu Li.

"I got the news just now." Zhu Li says, her usually robotic voice now tinted with a dash of worry. "An entire shipment's been stolen."

Shocked whispers begin to erupt from all around the table.

"Which shipment?" Azula asks, her brows furrowing together.

"The one with the parts for our new airship design." Zhu Li is quick to answer.

Azula breathes out a quiet curse. "Okay. I'll look into it."

One of the board members pushes his chair back and stands up. "You'll look into it?! Really?! That's all you have to say?!"

Azula braces her palms on the table in front of her and leans forward, hanging her head.

"Yeah." Another member quips. "We've just lost our latest technology. And all you have to offer is looking into it?!?!"

Another voice speaks up. "Having our valuable shipments stolen isn't exactly very strategic of you, is it? And my sources have reason to believe that this has been happening for months now. Maybe it's time for you to step down and let Mr. Zuko take care of things here, Miss Azula. Shouldn't you be taking action already? Looking into it isn't really going to help, now is it-?"

Azula snaps her head up and the asshole that was talking shuts his mouth in a hurry.

The whole room falls silent when they notice the look Azula's giving the guy. A chill runs up Katara's spine, and she permanently decides that she definitely does not want to be at the receiving end of that piercing glare.

"Loosing composture in a time like this isn't going to help either." Azula's voice is even and cold. "So, unless you have a trick up your insolent little sleeves, I'd like to see you all presenting your design idea on another day. The meeting's adjourned."

Everybody shoots out of their seats in a hurry, wanting to get the hell away from Azula's raising wrath before they get caught in the middle of it.

"Your father will be hearing about this when he returns back from Ba Sing Se, Miss Azula." The asshole says before walking out of the room.

Azula just stares at his retreating figure, her face surprisingly even.

"Zhu Li." Azula says.

"Yes, Miss Agni?" Zhu Li perks up.

"My office. Now."

...

The door to Azula's office automatically shuts close the second Katara walks into it. Azula's already pacing back and forth in front of her desk as Zhu Li walks up to her.

"It's the Cabbage Corp., I'm sure of it." The secretary says.

Azula stops on her tracks, mid-pace. "Of course it is. Who else would it-" Then her eyes suddenly fall on Katara and she stops talking.

Zhu Li seems to follow her line of sight. "Oh, don't worry. Katara's fine. We need all hands on deck if we're gonna handle this."

"And you think she's capable of it?" Azula points a lazy finger at Katara.

"More than." Zhu Li says and Katara feels a rush of affection towards the woman.

Azula nods once before taking in a deep breath. "Zhu Li . . ."

"Yes?"

Azula stares at her for a second long, before her sculpted full lips curve up in a smirk. "They swallowed the bait and the whole damn hook!"

Zhu Li's usually neutral face morphs into a genuinely surprised one. "Wait- WHAT?!"

Azula lets out a loud guffaw suddenly, throwing her head back and clutching onto her chest tightly.

Zhu Li looks at her like she's gone completely crazy. "Azula?!"

"Hmm?" Azula hums, before losing it and staring to laugh again.

"What is going on?!" Zhu Li panics, and Katara can't help but silently watch the whole debacle. "What bait?!"

Azula wipes at the corner of her eyes. "Oh god, this is perfect!"

Zhu Li blinks at her. "Should I be worried?!"

"No." Azula says before humming in mirth again, letting out a small chuckle.

Azula walks over to her swivel chair and plops down heavily. Zhu Li and Katara take the queue, confused out of their minds, and sit down on the chairs opposite to Azula's across the desk.

"Okay." Azula clears her throat. Then she looks at both Zhu Li and Katara in the eye with mirth dancing in her normally striking cold eyes. "What I'm about to say, must not leave this room untill and unless I give you explicit permission to do so."

Zhu Li nods and Katara does the same, already not believing her luck.

"Especially you, new girl." Azula's eyes fall on Katara. "If I find out you're a leak, it'll be years before the cops shovel out your bones."

Katara gulps, her eyes widening.

"Will you just tell us already?" Zhu Li impatiently asks.

Azula rolls her eyes. "Fine. The whole shipment? That was my bait. And the Cabbage Corp., gobbled it up hook and meat."

Zhu Li gives her a look. "So you're saying, you purposefully left a shipment unattended for the Cabbage heads to take it?"

"Yes." Azula leans back in the chair and crosses her legs, fingers clasping in front, her elbows resting on the arm-rest.

"Why would you do that?!" Zhu Li sounds annoyed. "You know they've been swiping our stuff for months right?"

"Yes. And that's exactly why I was forced to come up with this."

Zhu Li raises her brow. "You have a catch." It's not really a question but a statement.

"Of course I do." Azula leans forward, waving her hand. "I'm not an idiot."

Zhu Li holds her silence for a second before speaking. "Cameras?"

"The size of a pea." Azula smirks. "It can even fit in a pen." She says before tapping one one of the many pens kept in a cup on her desk.

"And if they found it out?"

"Oh, I'm counting on it. It'll be really nice to see the look on their faces if they discover it, don't you think?" Azula types something quickly in her keyboard and then a second later she turns the whole monitor of her computer towards us. "This is going to be my soap opera from now on. Zhu Li, make sure to get some fire flakes, yes?"

Zhu Li's too busy looking at the screen. There are at least 12 camera footage that Katara notices is definitely live, trained on a bunch of people gathered around a huge warehouse, playing Pai Sho. Near them are huge containers with the Agni Incorp., emblem on them. Clearly, they're unaware of the little eyes that are watching their every move. What's even interesting is that the emblem of Cabbage Corp, is blatantly visible behind their Pai Sho table.

Katara almost face-palms at their stupidity. Thank god Sokka insisted her on joining Agni Incorp., huh?

"Are they really this dumb?" Zhu Li's face screws up in disgust. "Good work, Miss Azula." She stands up. "I'll make some calls to Long Feng, arranging a meet up."

"Make sure you stay quiet about this." Azula warns. "I wanna see that scum's face personally when he realises what's coming for him."

Zhu Li gives Azula a smile before clip-clopping her way out of the office.

Katara should've left with her. She should be helping Zhu Li set up the meeting. Yet, the wheels in her head are turning and she stays rooted to her chair, mind racing a hundred miles per second.

A snap in front of her face, jolts her awake from the spiral she just fell into. She looks up to find Azula's fingers in front of her face, looking at her with a slight tint of annoyance.

"I said, 'dismissed'. And I believe that's your cue to exit my office immediately." Azula is saying, but Katara's not interested.

Katara's brilliant blue eyes snap to Azula. "What will your meeting with Long Feng be about?"

Azula stares at her. "Do not take advantage of your position, new girl. These are matters that do not require your concern."

Katara's face hardens. "I've typed enough transcripts of your meetings in the past week to know more about your management than any other person on this whole floor." She states. But then she tilts her head slightly to the side. "Well, except Zhu Li, of course, but that's Zhu Li."

Azula leans forward in her chair and places her forearms on the desk, clasping her fingers.

Katara mentally cheers herself for speaking up and continues, hearing no response from Azula. "If I were a spy, I'd be halfway to Ba Sing Se by now, selling all your information. But I didn't. So, tell me. What are you going to discuss with the Cabbage Corp's first director?"

Azula scans her face for a long moment. So long that Katara almost ups and leaves from the sheer weight of her gaze. It's piercing and calculative, making Katara squirm in her seat, feeling oddly heated and flustered.

Azula speaks finally, much to Katara's relief. "I was thinking of giving him the scare of his life. But I haven't really gotten around to the details yet."

Katara's face lights up.

This is it. This is the perfect opportunity laying itself in front of her and Katara reaches out and grasps it so freaking tightly, you'd think she's crazy.

"They've been giving you hell for the past few months, right? What if I tell you, that we can take their obvious stupidity and use it to bleed them dry?"

Azula's brows lift up ever so slightly. She stares at Katara a second longer before yielding. "What are you suggesting?"

The smirk that takes up Katara's face could've summoned a fleet of dark spirits. "The perfect scam." She sneers, her mind already racing, making out the details.

...

The clip-clop of Azula's heels probably alerted them or something, Katara isn't sure, but the moment they enter an empty warehouse for the meeting with Long Feng, the little group huddled together right at the middle of the room turn to look at them.

"Ah!" A guy, almost in his 50's, with long hair plaited behind him and adorned in an extremely exquisite kimono, tilts his chin up, turning to Azula and Azula alone. "Miss Azula. We were expecting you for a while now."

"No, you were not." Azula's quick to reply.

The meeting was set up for 4 o clock Saturday afternoon and Katara was pretty sure they were walking in right on the nose of it, given the obsession Azula had for being perfectly on time. No, scratch that. Being perfect all the time, Katara thinks.

Zhu Li had told her that Azula had specifically asked for the 'new girl' for the meeting, and Katara couldn't help but feel euphoric. Every time she's even thinking of her boss, she gets all dizzy and alert at the same time, it's annoying really.

Now, walking behind, just shy of Azula's steps, she's sure they look like professional demons, here to destroy Cabbages, not with swords, but with pens and words.

A smile almost takes up Katara's face at the thought, but she schools her features. No, professionals are supposed to hold a neutral expression, practiced and poised. She glances slightly over to Azula, the perfect example and straightens her back on instinct.

When they near the small group of elite officials, Azula halts abruptly, in a calculated step that only she can master, and Katara almost stumbles behind her, before regaining her composture just as quickly.

A young guy suddenly appears in front of us, carrying a huge video-camera on his shoulder.

Azula rolls her eyes. "Seriously, Mr. Feng? The camera crew again?"

"If we're going to make a deal, I need all the precautions, Miss Azula." The guy with the long plaites looks smug. Katara realises him as the First director of the Cabbage Corp. "I'm surprised you didn't arrange for the same." He cocks his head and gives a smirk that's supposed to indicate his silent victory or something.

Even Katara knows it's a pathetic attempt. And a poorer execution. She can't even begin to think how Cabbage Corp., even achieved this level of power in the market.

"Oh, I like to keep things simple." Azula says before tapping the suit pocket on her chest, which holds a rather unique pen.

Katara's eyes widen when she realises what's inside that pen.

Hot diggity dog! Azula's amazing!

Long Feng's smirk falters as he catches on too. But then he manages to boost his composture back. "Shall we begin?"

...

"Your resources just took a massive hit, according to my sources." Long Feng crosses his legs. "You're at the brink of collapse, if you don't recompense yourself fast. Why would I want to deal with you?"

Azula doesn't answer. She stares at him without a single expression on her face. Katara squirms in her seat. They've sat down for like, what, ten minutes? And this guy already thinks he owns Azula. It's pathetic because Katara knows what's gonna hit him. And the second-hand embarrassment that she's feeling for him right now is unbearable.

Long Feng, seeing that Azula isn't going to answer him any time soon, continues. "Since I have a particular interest in watching other companies shine and provide me with a better competition, I'd like to offer you financial aid. To recover from your loss. What do you say?"

Azula smiles. "I think you're very generous. But I had something else in mind."

Long Feng narrows his eyes. "Oh?"

Azula looks all around the warehouse, non-chalantly, before letting out a short breath. "A merger."

Her words hang in the air. Katara's face can't help itself but break out into a slight smirk. The whole thing was her idea and she's never been prouder for coming up with anything than when she came up with this. But Azula's making it 10 times better.

Long Feng looks at Azula for a long moment. Then he bursts out laughing. He laughs so hard that he almost falls out of his chair.

"Y- You're serious?!" He asks inbetween peels of laughter, before guffawing out loud again.

Azula looks at him with a smile on her chiseled face. She holds her hand out, and Katara immediately gets her cue. The blue-eyed girl carefully fishes out the laptop from the bag she's holding and opens it.

Live footage of the hidden cameras placed in Azula's stolen shipments, starts to play and Katara instantly places the laptop on her boss's extended arm.

Azula doesn't even look at it, when she turns it around towards Long Feng.

And, oh boy. Katara's pretty sure she would watch how the colour and mirth drains from Long Feng's face, over and over again for the rest of her life after she gets hold of Azula's pen camera footage. It's just so damn satisfying when his laughter slowly turns to chuckles and finally stops abruptly as he makes sense of what's being shown to him.

"I believe we have an excellent deal in our hands. It's a shame about your generous offer though, Mr. Feng. I might not accept it, considering my busy schedule of managing two companies simultaneously from now on. I'll even be kind enough to let you work in the inner circle of the board after the merger, if you're willing."

Long Feng's eyes almost fall out of his head in shocked rage. He grits his teeth to the point where it makes a racket and echoes along the large warehouse.

"My secretary will meet you in a week's time, with the necessary documents regarding our merger. Be sure to bring your camera crew too! They're most welcome! Good day, Mr. Feng."

Azula stands up and turns on her heels, walking crisply away from the chaos she just caused. Katara follows right behind, not exactly sure why she's so fucking turned on at the moment.

...

[Three months later]

Katara's desk is filled with notes and diagrams and draft proposals of anything and everything Azula's been engaging with. It's late. Friday night, 10 PM to be precise. Katara leans back in her chair with a sigh of relief, looking up and all around, having completed her work just moments ago, observing and absorbing how strange it is to see the bull-pen so empty.

She's beat and would do anything to have a nice, long, warm shower and a comfortable snuggle only her bed gives.

She packs her things up from the mess of her desk, tidying up a bit so that she won't have to worry about it first thing on Monday.

Then she hears it

And because it is so quiet, she hears it clearly. The soft clicking of keys on a keyboard. Her sharp ears pick out the sound immediately and she decides to follow it, trying to figure out where it's coming from.

She wanders around the empty desks for a few seconds before halting abruptly in front of Azula's office. The sound seems to be coming from there.

She hasn't gone home yet?

Katara frowns. Maybe she got too caught up in her work to realise that Azula hasn't gone home yet.

Pumping herself with some much needed assurance, she slowly opens the door to Azula's office. She knows the girl hates knocking.

Katara peeps inside the room tentatively. Her eyes fall on her boss, typing feverishly on her computer, brows furrowed in concentration. And Katara, knowing that it's too late to be doing heavy work like what Azula seems to be doing right now, decides to go interrupt.

She steps inside the room quietly. Her boss doesn't seem to notice. But when Katara starts walking towards the desk, closing more distance, Azula's eyes snap up to hers suddenly, without turning away from her computer. Katara stops dead on her tracks, panic griping her heart, faster than a race horse. She stares at her boss, not really sure about what she's doing with herself, praying to all spirits silently that she isn't overstepping any boundaries.

Azula considers Katara for a moment, her fingers halting for a second, before she snaps her golden eyes away to the screen again to continue typing. The blue-eyed girl's heart begins to beat faster.

She's not encroaching any boundaries?!

Katara takes a tentative step forward. And when she meets no resistence, she walks freely, closer to Azula's desk. Her boss, seemingly, is absorbed in her work. And Katara doesn't like it. It's Friday night for spirits sake! And she's the boss! She doesn't have to work this hard!

Katara reaches the desk and walks around it to the side where Azula's seated. It's a large desk, and it gives Katara ample space to lean her butt against the edge of it and stand facing Azula with her arms crossed over her chest.

She watches her boss type so fast, she's sure they keys are just minutes away from flying off the keyboard. It's silent between them. Katara knows that her boss is blatantly ignoring her, so she just waits in order to get her attention.

A moment later, Azula finishes up in a flourish, ending her furious typing, and shuts her computer down, before she turns in her chair to face Katara.

"Why aren't you home yet?"

"Haven't you gone home?"

They both speak at the same time. Katara purses her lips, and looks down at her feet, trying to hide her fast forming blush.

"And not to mention," Azula gets up from her chair, unbuttoning her sleeves, "You've walked in here without permission. I could fire you right here."

Katara looks up in a hurry. "No, you won't."

"Oh, yeah?" Her boss begins to roll up her sleeves. Katara gulps, tracing her eyes over Azula's hands. "What makes you so sure?"

The intern averts her eyes away to her boss' face. "I'm too valuable."

Azula gives her half a shrug. "Meh. You're tolerable."

Katara smiles in reply, teasing and taunting. She takes a moment before asking. "You know, you're the boss right?"

Azula finishes rolling up her sleeves before meeting Katara's eyes in an answer. So Katara continues. "You can go home whenever you please. Why haven't you gone already?"

Azula stares at her silently, reaching her hand up to the back of her head and pulling the band that holds her hair together in a bun. The volume of her hair comes crashing down to her shoulders and her back, and Katara can't help but not take her eyes away from the girl.

Katara knew she was attracted to her boss, months ago. But this . . . this is too much. This is like watching the always poised and alert exterior of Azula that she's spent half an year to build, come crashing down; and Katara's the glad witness of the mind-blowing event, all in slow-motion that her brain seems to put her in.

Her boss steps forward a little, getting a better view of Katara leaning against her desk. Golden brown eyes hold the intern in a daunting stare, before Azula looks away. "I had to draft a proposal."

"This late? You could've asked any of us in the bull-pen to do it for you."

"I don't trust them enough to do this." Azula moves a bit forward. She reaches for the red tie around her lithe neck and gets it loose with a few rough tugs. Then her delicate fingers wrap around her collar button and she unfastens it in the blink of an eye.

Katara's brain freezes over, her eyes trained on the sharp collarbone peeking out from under her boss' collar. "Y- You don't?"

Azula shrugs. "Trust is for fools. Fear is the only reliable way."

Katara gulps as she snaps her gaze to Azula's striking ones trained on her intensely. "What about Z- Zhu Li?"

"Ah, Zhu Li . . ." Azula takes another step forward. "She doesn't fear me. And that's the only reason why I respect her enough to remember her name. The others could be eaten by spirits for all I care." She waves her hand dismissively.

"What about me? I don't fear you."

Azula steps closer, almost a foot away from Katara. "You sure about that?"

"Y- Yes."

Azula just smirks in reply.

Then something clicks in Katara's brain. "Wait- Is that why you keep calling me 'new girl'?! You don't even know my name!"

Her boss moves closer again, and this time, Katara can differentiate the various shades of brown sprinkled in those golden eyes from how close she's standing. "Your achievements shall make me remember you. Not your worthless name. So, tell me, new girl. What have you achieved in order for you to make an impression on me and urge me to remember your name?"

Katara presses herself against the desk behind her like her life depends on it. "I- I um . . . I gave you the idea for the merger deal with the Cabbage Corp!!"

Azula leans forward and places her palms on her desk, on either side of Katara, trapping her. Katara's heart rate increases tenfold. She almost whimpers at the intoxicating smell her boss seems to posess.

"And that's supposed to have impressed me?" Azula raises one chisled brow, silently mocking Katara with just her eyes.

Okay, now Katara's definitely sure that this isn't something that's supposed to be happening between a boss and her intern. But does she care? Oh, spirits no! She finds herself slipping into a daze, her mind filled only with Azula's scent and her goddamn eyes.

"I- I . . ."

"You're gonna have to do lot more than that." Katara feels fingers as soft as silk place themselves on her thigh. They find the gap between her suit-skirt and her burning skin and slides inside effortlessly like butter. Katara shudders at the touch.

"W- What are you doing?" The intern's voice is unstable, riddled heavily with something thick; something raw.

Azula stares at her, slowly moving her hand higher up inside Katara's skirt. "Waiting for you to tell me to stop."

Katara closes her eyes, overwhelmed with a rush of new feelings she knows she shouldn't be having for her boss. She feels hot breath hit her face just and inch away.

"Do you want me to stop?" Azula whispers against her lips, taunting her; teasing her in a way that drives Katara crazy.

And Katara makes a decision. "No." She breathes. "Don't stop."

A smirk takes up her boss' face immediately before she crashes her lips against Katara with such force that pushes Katara flush against the desk, the edge digging into her butt. She pushes back with equal fervour, clasping her fingers tightly around Azula's loose tie and pulling her forward with it.

But Azula's having none of it.

She pushes Katara's skirt up, massaging the intern's thigh with her hand as she spreads the girl's legs apart. She wastes no time, moving forward to come and stand in between her legs, giving Katara a delicious friction to rub herself against.

Their mouths dance against each other, fighting in the most intimate way possible to gain control. Azula's hand that is not presently engaged with Katara's thigh, comes up to untuck the intern's blue blouse from her skirt, dipping her hand inside to caress the soft skin there.

Katara jumps on cloud nine. Her hungry desire for her boss ever since she laid her eyes on the girl, hits her with full force as her hand find Azula's shirt to crumple under her fingers. She lets out a needy breath when Azula leaves her lips to dip her head down to place a hot, wet, open mouth on Katara's neck, sucking the supple skin there in a way that makes Katara pretty sure it's gonna leave a mark.

It's wrong. Katara knows it's absolutely wrong. But it feels so damn right and so damn good that she silences all the other nonsensical thoughts riddling her brain and pulls the dark, raw, unadulterated hunger she feels for her boss to the forefront, throwing away all reason. She doesn't know when exactly she became this shameless animal, wanting, no- needing to be satisfied by Azula, and only Azula, but she doesn't seem to care.

Especially not when Azula's caressing hand unbuttons her skirt and sneaks its merry way down to pure, wet, heat. Katara feels herself pounding in time with her heart, gushing wetness all over Azula's now bold and teasing fingers. She arches her back, aching for her boss' touch, and gasping out loud when Azula finally, finally puts pressure exactly fucking where she needs it.

Katara's hand flies out to grip the desk and accidentally hits the pen stand and it comes crashing down with a loud BANG!

Katara jolts awake.

She sits up straight in her chair, blinking rapidly, her eyes adjusting to the sudden hit of light. She looks all around, shocked to find that she's at her desk in the bull-pen. She must've fallen asleep on her desk or something.

Heat flushes into Katara's face as her brain catches up with what she was dreaming. She looks toward Azula's office, and most definitely, there's not a single soul there; lights out and door locked.

Her body's still buzzing, completely on edge, still not over the mind-numbingly vivid dream she just had.

God dang it!

Now she's never going to be able to look at her boss in the eyes again. She packs her stuff up and heads home in a hurry. She's taking the coldest freaking shower known to mankind when she reaches home, for sure.

...

"The proposal's been approved." Azula's sharp voice rings around the meeting hall. "I want the draft for the first design by this Thursday. Any delay on your part and I will not hesitate to terminate you from my office. Understood?"

There are terrified nods all around the hall.

"Good." Azula narrows her eyes. "Dismissed."

Zhu Li, beside Katara, gets up to go have a seat near Azula, to run over the details regarding the discussions in the meeting, just as everyone hurriedly scurries out of the hall. Katara follows her mindlessly. Even after 3 months, Katara still shadows Zhu Li around, learning as much as can from the secretary.

The intern thought that if she spent the whole of the weekend having slumber parties with her friends, it just might take her mind off of the dream she had last Friday.

But, nope.

She tried all the trick in her book, but nothing seems to be working. Sitting here in the meeting hall, along with Zhu Li and Azula alone, she can't help but let her eyes wander to her boss' tie, noticing the way it stands crisp and how it came so beautifully undone under Azula's sculpted fingers in her dream. She can't help but imagine what witnessing the real thing would be like. It also does not help when Azula picks up a pen and starts twirling it inbetween her fingers.

Katara sucks in a sharp breath and pulls her eyes away reluctantly to her notepad.

"Katara?"

She hears her name and looks up instantly to find Azula's sharp eyes looking directly at her.

"Zhu Li's gone already. I said dismissed two minutes ago."

Katara looks around the hall, confused, and feels her cheek heat up at the realisation. She and Azula are the only ones in the hall. But then she frowns. "Wait-" Her eyes snap back to her boss. "You know my name?!"

Three months under Azula's leadership, and not once has Katara heard Azula call her by her name. And the same three months of experience tells Katara that the look Azula's giving her is the one she wears when she's confused.

"What do you mean?" The golden eyed girl asks.

"I- I thought you always called me 'new girl' cuz you didn't know my name!"

Azula arches her brow. "I always call you 'new girl' because you are a new girl."

Katara frowns. "Then . . . I'm not a new girl anymore?"

Azula snorts. "You've not been new since your mom pushed you out of her."

The intern scowls at her boss. "Not funny. My mom died when I was 5."

Azula stares at her employee for a second longer before shrugging slightly. "Sorry."

Katara perks up. Sorry? The great Azula, shadow director of Agni Incorp., is capable of uttering that word?!

Seeing that Katara's confused, Azula explains without prompt. "Look, you've improved the status of the company since you arrived here, so much so that I could kiss you with how pleased I am. So, it's importat that I don't treat you as just another employee although they're important too, but as a colleague."

Katara gulps. "Y- You could kiss me?!"

Azula raises her eyebrows. "Figure of speech." She says but there's amusement in her eyes. "Were you really about to say 'no' to Azula Agni kissing you?"

Katara's eyes blow wide. "What?! No! That's not what I was-" She notices Azula's expression. "You're playing me, aren't you?"

The corner of Azula's lips curve up into a smirk, her eyes twinkling. "You should've seen your face."

"I know, I know." Katara rolls her eyes. "Very funny."

Their shared moment hangs in the air softly, bathing Katara with an unnatural elation. She finds Azula staring at her with the twinkle never leaving her eyes. Her stomach flips involuntarily. She sobers up, playing with a strand of her own hair in sudden nervousness.

"Zhu Li's planning on resigning." Azula states and Katara looks up with shock at the sudden news. "I tried to keep her in, but it really is no use. She needs to work on her career and she can't do that wiping my ass for the rest of her life."

"When?" - Is the only thing Katara can ask.

"In three months." Azula looks down at the table. "She says she'll train you for another month and then issue me her notice."

Katara frowns. "Me?"

Azula's gaze finds Katara's confused ones. "Yeah, you. You're gonna be Zhu Li's replacement."

The intern's heart pounds against her ribs. Being Azula's secretary means being close to her at all times, arriving at her beck and call and . . . Katara really isn't sure if she's cut out for the job with the kind of dreams that she's been having.

"You . . . don't want to be?" Azula frowns slightly.

Katara decides to be honest. At least about one thing. "I don't think I'm cut out for the job is all."

Azula's frown deepens. "I just told you how I could kiss you because of how good you're at this job. Just . . . think about it and make sure to let me know before Zhu Li hands in her notice."

Katara knows that her decision is already going to be a 'yes'. But she nods to Azula's suggestion anyways, as if to mull it over.

"Dismissed."

Katara walks out of the meeting hall, with a light heart.

***

i've been writing this fic for THREE days. that's how long this is 😭🖐🏻

i hope i satisfied your prompt, anon!! if anyone wants a part 2 for this... all u need to do is ask me 👀 it's that simple.

[marmot-bee-person]

zuko and anakin would get along in a ‘you fucking get it’ type of way

you have to look at the tags and the comment i left I put so much work into them PLEASE LOOK

[nerdish-simp]

OH MY GODDDDD

OH MY GOD

HOLY SHIT ALJFLKASJFLD;SJIDFOSADFKAFJLS

IT'S COMING OUT ON MY BIRTHDAY

I'M SCREAMING

IT'S STILL TWO FUCKING YEARS AWAY BUT OML

[unproduciblesmackdown]

catch my hazy silhouette through a rain-obscured window on a dim evening as i thoughtfully pace hands clasped behind my back through the accusing parlor

that is to say: back at it again with mitzi and mordecai's murder mystery marination and musings, because putting down a lot of thoughts does in fact still help sort things out even without any clear conclusions reached

what i've expounded upon enough to imo warrant further whole separate posts is a point touched upon in some tag which is that like, i'm honing the "but why would mitzi have some secret here re: atlas's death with mordecai, of all former fellow associates" wherein i don't think there can be any purely Logistical reason. like how there's plenty of other associates to choose from, and the only thing that particularly differentiates mordecai would be like....what, precision? in taking a shot or cooking some books? that's possible, but mordecai has to have some motivation to be aligned with her as well, but what we also have on hand to consider is the way they're Still aligned enough to keep this secret, despite now being professional rivals and there being no apparent personal attachment Directly between them, or even like, communication.

so the theory here is that their connection to have this secret in the first place And to still be keeping it is an emotional alignment which they mutually understand/recognize. which, it would seemingly follow, is about atlas. even if you take the [hmm did mordecai originally land in trouble by embezzling; was he doing it again?] idea into account, and, say, wonder if they arranged to kill atlas before he could figure that out, or because he had, why would mordecai then leave lackadaisy. while it's also true that he wasn't So loyal to lackadaisy overall to refuse to leave it, so that doesn't really make sense as a motivation, but he also clearly didn't join marigold with "time to be peak loyal to Them" ambitions alone (which came from Where, since he'd been with lackadaisy for so long / could've left prior. and if he killed atlas so that he could get a totally different type of job: well he didn't do that. and if he killed him so that he could do that same job somewhere else: why, and also, he doesn't seem that enthused, and also mitzi doesn't seem to act like that's her understanding of his motivations)....all to say that mordecai's motivations then and now don't make sense if trying to look at it through the realm of All Business Logistics, and it's further unlikely b/c that would be more boring lol

and that, again, with mordecai being a business rival and not obviously her bestie or something, what kind of Just Business incentive would allow them to not only agree to work together in some fashion at the time, secretly, but both feel secure enough re: their Both keeping the secret. apparently mitzi has cause to think mordecai Could tell asa/marigold anything about it, but she doesn't suspect hard enough to seem to worry about it after he says "of course not," even though she thinks that mordecai might want to destroy lackadaisy because of whatever he considers her Culpable for surrounding atlas's death, which isn't the same as everyone else just suspecting mitzi killed atlas outright, so it's not like she thinks it's any loyalty to or interest in lackadaisy itself that guarantees he'll refrain from telling marigold anything about whatever happened re: atlas's death. which could be a matter of like, well, maybe it's something he wants secret for his own sake then, but we also have mitzi refraining from telling anyone anything about the secret, even wick. they have to have some reasons for not throwing the other under the bus, and for expecting the other to not do the same to them, and i guess a perfect alignment of [well, it'd have negative consequences for both of us] is possible, but still doesn't seem likely with how they both seem this assured that, even though either of them Could share something, they won't

then there's also More Clues to consider

sure seems like Something to give mordecai's little portrait a defining quality of Grief. which i feel secure in presuming is about atlas. but which isn't the word used for anyone else out here, even like, atlas's widow, so seems significant b/c of that as well. and it Would make sense if mordecai left lackadaisy if because of Grief Over Atlas, when he Doesn't seem so antilackadaisy that he's actually interested in / intending to destroy it, while, at least passively, he Does seem to at least prefer that everyone just exit the stage as painlessly as possible, though that doesn't preclude kneecapping viktor or raiding the armory to try to push that along....but he's also not sharing anything about how mitzi's Actually involved in atlas's death even though he blames her for something in that area, nor even willing to stoke the general assumption / rumors that she killed him, despite this apparent defining grief over it, even

Much To Consider here

first of all, don't think gracie's right that mordecai went over to marigold to spy on them, since he seemed to only be set on this path after that brunch with asa saying he warned atlas of Something. and with his saying right here that there wasn't reason to suspect anything, and also wanting actual answers rather than to let gracie pin the murder on marigold (which theoretically means mordecai isn't Most Motivated by even covering up this murder. when also like, this one might be higher profile, but he's doing a lot of those. and is only Not doing another one right now b/c of the possibility of more answers). there's also the fact that technically neither mitzi or mordecai have unequivocally acknowledged that they even indirectly killed atlas, but the "she wasn't there" remark sure does seem to mean that mordecai Was there when atlas died, and in tandem with "it was a private affair" (though, Trail Offs & Rephrasings Alert with him saying "it was all... it was a private affair" like what were you going to have initially said) seems to mean that mordecai Knows who Was there, and he must be so confident that there are no other loose end attendees / witnesses running around that it "should be impossible" for marigold to know anything about it. and there's some wiggle room for Possibility i suppose, but seems to add up to Only mordecai being there. and there was a gun (and its handoff) involved in mitzi & mordecai's murder mystery secret, so it sure seems like that also adds in mordecai shooting atlas. but still, the key points seeming to be that he Was there, and is sure of What happened himself

also again establishes that mordecai blames mitzi for something, but won't say she was the one who killed atlas. meanwhile, some kind of emotion beyond "that's factually inaccurate" to Emphasize the "no" about the concept that mitzi left atlas for mordecai, which, otherwise some [kill your husband b/c of our romantic entanglement] sure would be an explanation for their sharing this secret involvement surrounding atlas's death. but, again, if the emotion is "[mitzi hater voice] NO" he's never been [mitzi hater voice] trying to throw her under the bus re: atlas's death, actually go after lackadaisy, etc....could be the asexuality, &/or could be the this bitch gay....up next is another Trail Offs & Rephrasings Alert with "i worked for him. atlas. i worked closely with him." which could suggest like, his concern being because he just feels he Should Know, maybe also b/c his proximity to atlas endangers him as well. but, in all this discussion, the Closeness and changing of "for" to "with" is, i'm supposing, about the emotional factor here, with the Grief and everything. as well as the emotional drive of bothering to take off a glove to pose pensively and disheveledly about it all. oh, and also kind of having a half literal bloody heart situation atm, and not just the sense that one's heart is ideally always literally bloody

what's the situation, fellows....could be like, yeah what's special to me is someone who doesn't care if they find me personable or not if i can & will kill people good enough on their behalf. taking on mortal peril too for someone tolerating your professional association? that'd go for any lackadaisy associates, and he's not staying there for any of them, despite the Grief over another. just some loyalty, but he wasn't loyal enough by extension to commit to staying at lackadaisy no matter what. does seem to be most compelling either that possibly he's like, nice, a substitute father vs my presumably deceased, to even reduce that [cool. just like a dad] concept to being a source of financial support (if you kill people really good on his behalf) which sure is relevant when atlas was the one out here restoring mordecai to life when being as good as dead over efforts to procure money for his family. or else, there's the option of mordecai having an Emotional Alignment with mitzi here and cause to be driven by Grief of being somewhat in love with atlas, with the restoring to life and apparently Literal shirts off his back and all, and again intriguing to compare his & mitzi's being materially supported by atlas, naturally, though in her case through being his wife and all. in whatever case, including "or some third compelling thing" that's not so clearly defined, i think it's relevant that mordecai and mitzi were both proximate to atlas and privy to a lot, and that i'm definitely suspecting that the "why would mitzi have this entrusted secret with mordecai of all people" answer of "because of emotional alignment" also involves mordecai's alignment having enough of a similar depth to that emotion as in mitzi's case, such that their Understanding of this similarity is what let & continues to let them trust each other with this secret, and such that mordecai's motivation is Grief over atlas

of course, it's all very obfuscating that we see so little of atlas, including his interactions with anyone. i don't really get the impression of him as being a very warm person, which adds in turn to the mystery of mordecai grieving him. mitzi has this affection for / attachment to atlas still, but it's not exactly clear that atlas ever returned so much of it, like his Fancy Gift Giving may have been the primary medium of any courtship there, certainly apparently the intiation of it; with mitzi seeing that necklace as representative of the Possibility / improvement of circumstances she found through atlas, now potentially through lackadaisy. and there's the fact she still regards him this way despite mordecai saying that things had deteriorated between them before atlas died. and that, in turn, also raises a question of how mordecai would know that; entirely possible that it stemmed from like, possibly being something of a bodyguard, could've included picking atlas up / seeing him off wherever he lived, and things just being obvious from that vantage point. i am doubting it's because, other way around, atlas took up with mordecai instead, though now i'm wondering like, where'd mordecai live at first. could've been set on his feet so fast that atlas Immediately got him a room, from a hotel even, but. anyways, that's to say that any reciprocated, realized romance Between atlas and mordecai doesn't seem to fit here, but again it's like, mordecai being privy to a lot, mordecai and mitzi kind of similar in terms of [atlas's veritable shirts off his back], mordecai being so proximate and often around atlas; i don't imagine it was exactly an affectionate dynamic, but i'm not really counting on atlas's and mitzi's marriage being really that affectionate beyond the surface / performance of romantic gestures / material offerings, on atlas's end anyways, and so like, it's easy to imagine that if mitzi did love him, it was Somewhat unilateral, and they were even married and all; so unilateral feelings being just as motivating for mordecai, who was supported by atlas too, around the same age as mitzi (probably, within a decade almost surely, but i'm estimating more like half a decade at most. while the character sheets suggest, if humorously, that mitzi would claim to be actually at least a year younger than him) around him a lot and privy to a lot, and it would all sure point to a potential specific version of understanding of emotional alignment between the two of them.

but we sure can't exactly know at this juncture, and the theory here just hinges on "mitzi and mordecai had equivalent / aligned Enough emotional attachments to atlas, and their Knowing It led them to have this secret involvement in atlas's death, and to continue keeping the secret, despite their not seeming to keep that secret b/c of a direct emotional attachment to each other, nor necessarily an It's Just Business or It's Just Murder practical, nonemotional shared motivation" like so let's simply phrase it as, tl;dr they both loved him, and knew that....they had to have talked enough to coordinate whatever they did in the first place, to know whyever they both were willing to coordinate it, and feasibly could've shared whatever info before that.

obviously a mystery that remains in this [mordecai and mitzi were both involved b/c they both knew they loved atlas, or at least have enough of this Loyalty to him specifically and precisely] theory is like....their alignment thusly then leads to their being so involved in atlas's death that mordecai knows it was a private affair, mitzi wasn't even there, it should be impossible marigold knows what happened, and yknow, had a gun. why kill him, when mordecai then apparently leaves lackadaisy over Grief about it, and when clearly the way they both talk about implies that this is a sore topic, mordecai considers mitzi culpable / her phrasing it as "reassurance that it's still my fault," they both seem to still regard atlas positively Enough....why have been so proximate to his death and not stopped it, much less possibly, maybe probably, been the ones to cause it

puzzling about this and it's like, of course we have any number of completely missing pieces, but things like "uhhh to preserve some concept of him by completely precluding him doing something or other to conflict with it??" seems like a stretch....and so far all i can think of that'd fit is that Atlas was also in on atlas's death. it's possible for one that he didn't even really die, see: that it's definitely true that none of what mitzi or mordecai has said has decisively, exclusively meant either of them killed atlas, or even that Anyone did, even that he died; i.e. it could be some coverup, Staging atlas's death so that atlas could evade [xyz]....trusted people, already close to him and already privy to a lot, who Would do something like that for him, might be people he'd turn to like hey mind if you help orchestrate what seems to be my demise and then i maybe disappear from your lives forever? but there's still the question of What Was Mitzi's Fault that mordecai maybe thinks led to the circumstance of atlas's death, seemingly or for real, which so aggrieved him that it's his main motivation as we know him, but he also doesn't actually completely hate her....could still be something that atlas just wanted to Disappear over. it's Thematically Apt if, for whatever reason, atlas was like "well i want out of This Life" before either dying for real, or else successfully Pretending to die, to instead facilitate enough of an actual escape: that he was either like reaping what he sowed, when what he sowed was people being stuck on this one path because it benefitted him and they didn't have a world of options, certainly not ones they could see, like that ultimately he'd be stuck in this literal dead end too...or just be killed by others, to be less stuck on his path, specifically. see serafine talking about being obliged to [atlas]; extricating oneself from that Obligation by killing him....or else atlas being also stuck on this one path, But that because he's the one with the money and the one chasing more plentiful opportunities vs clinging to the only one they see and he's the one with collected strays obliged to him, he's the one able to escape, with their help, but perhaps wherein also they just know it's not really up to them to be able to refuse to provide that help, rather than that atlas successfully heartstrings tugged anyone along either (or knowingly, in mordecai's theoretical case anyways)

it's also possible that atlas being in on it also entails him having actually died, and him knowing that was going to happen and for some reason not preventing it, or even being the one to request it. this could line up with both mitzi and mordecai being involved over some shared emotional motivation over atlas, and their both being unhappy with the situation afterwards. of course still mysteries there like "what was mitzi's fault that could lead to atlas dying" and "why's mordecai blame her but will keep this secret and not accuse her to randos or marigold or actually try to destroy lackadaisy to get back at her (lattermost could be for others' sake, e.g. viktor, ivy, even atlas still)" but those were Already mysteries anyways....does seem to me like mordecai's involvement here is b/c of some emotional matter for him, that that's also how he's aligned with mitzi, and so then it does seem to be the most feasible that somehow atlas dying, or disappearing, was something atlas wanted to have happen. including that it could simply be an On My Terms thing even if he really died, like he thinks Someone's gonna kill him, he'd rather avoid suspense and possible suffering, ask his wife to do it, ask his bookkeeper bodyguard hitman to do it, ask his wife who knows she can ask the other guy to do it instead and that he'll agree....

there's also the Big Mystery of "what Did asa have to warn atlas about; and how Does it figure in"....can mordecai have been present at atlas's death, or at least been certain of who was & wasn't so as to think it was impossible marigold knew how it happened, and now have that confidence throw into question If asa had something he warned atlas about??? it confuses me. it'd seem that atlas would be warning atlas, and now theoretically mitzi in turn, about some threat external to lackadaisy, while seemingly mitzi and mordecai's secret suggests that his death came about internally re: lackadaisy. can mordecai think marigold a) was involved in atlas's death without mordecai knowing and b) without marigold knowing mordecai was involved??? what was the private affair mordecai thought he knew of, in that case, if we suppose it involved [not mitzi], [maybe even not mordecai], [not marigold, so he thought]....i suppose it's uhh possible atlas shot himself directly, not even w/the middleman of mordecai doing it With atlas's knowledge / at his behest. hadn't actually considered that before now. the benefits of writing it out! but even then, what's the mysterious gun handoff in the rain between mitzi and mordecai? possible simple evidence disposal one way or another, but how much difficulty would one have when it's like, throw it in a river....

and it's entirely mysterious too like, what New Thing does marigold have to warn anyone about, or mysteriously cull lucrative associates over, the thorn in its side, the undiscerned source of agitation....is it just so New to have an ambitious federal agent in town who'd refuse to be paid off? as ever, there's still the mystery of who runs marigold, since asa's the night manager who gets to keep secrets from mordecai, for one. would be funny if it's wick, with a quarrying front, but yknow....still, that hypothesis doesn't betray, or even suggest, any motivations lol. the secrecy could just be a matter of insulating the owner from any investigations; if someone doesn't know who they're working for, or at least what the overall gameplan is, they sure can't give it away to that federal agent, or anything. but was drago in town back then? he doesn't actually seem interested in lackadaisy now, so even if he would've been when atlas was alive, he's not here to investigate atlas's death, or you'd think he wouldn't just be like "oh you work there? lol. anyways bye"....i'm trying to work out how atlas being warned of Anything is a concept that could make mordecai think marigold might know how he died? since the warning would've come before atlas's death anyways?? i Suppose it could suggest that asa simply doesn't think mitzi killed him, which is supposed to be the rumor that everyone's assuming is true..........

it's also hardly clear that mordecai's worried that, instead, marigold thinks (or knows) mordecai killed atlas? he certainly seems Potentially concerned about that, but why is he interested in some guy's federal agent contact instead? why, more specifically, is he interested in this realm of "what's agigating marigold Now" since the answer is definitely not "him" and seems to uncoincidentally actually be "drago trying to meet up with some informants....who don't necessarily have anything useful to give him???" like, there's too many necessary coincidences for this to be some elaborate coordinated scheme around "we know mordecai killed atlas and we Hate that" like, in that case, just confront him, or kill him, and do that before hiring him? but if mordecai's not simply worried for his own sake "uh oh....am i Really wanted for murder???" style (considering also that marigold doesn't have much reason to be bothered atlas died, and isn't acting like it) then what Is he so motivated by rn? Grief Besot, what's that mean for him risking so much to perhaps Get on marigold's bad side, or become more proximate to a federal agent, when he does not now already seem to be on marigold's bad side nor in this federal agent's crosshairs (who for one, again, might be more interested in lackadaisy if that was the case)....all while, also, mitzi doesn't seem to be thusly so bothered. how Does it figure in? i suppose it's also possible that, concerning atlas's death, mordecai was privy to more / has information she doesn't....for one thing [she wasn't even there] versus how he presumably Was.

something that seems to be left is perhaps Motivation for atlas's death? if, as i'm pondering, mitzi and mordecai teamed up b/c of an mutual understanding of sufficient emotional alignment regarding atlas, and they'd be involved in his death despite this and despite being so unhappy about it afterwards if they did it For atlas, and that they'd only do it For atlas if atlas actually was in on it too / this was what atlas wanted/chose, rather than what mitzi and/or mordecai wanted/chose....could mordecai care so much about simply "the important things i thought i knew are also more emotional than 'i hope nobody tries to kill me :(' logistical, and specifically are: why did atlas want to die? or pretend to die and peace out?" wherein only now is he getting the idea that atlas was warned about something by marigold and that's why he wanted to die or pretend to die and peace out....which would mean, according to this theory, atlas either didn't tell him why, or made up something else. And that mordecai simply wants The Truth? it's not like everyone else in this cast roster isn't necessarily making choices that aren't great for them / are high risk b/c of limited options and emotional minefields, but mordecai is Really highly motivated and taking action about this. would "Why did atlas die, Really" be sufficient motivation? is [what he considers mitzi culpable for] what he Thought was the reason atlas died before, and can he think that idea is inaccurate if mitzi could hear the same thing from asa and not apparently be in the same turmoil of uncertainty?

i suppose it's, as mentioned, possible that mordecai knows how atlas died and who was involved / who even knew about it, but didn't kill him himself, And now is questioning if he Really knows who was involved. like, can he have been wrong? how much room for error was there, here. what third parties can there have been; why would they have been involved. i'm kind of working around like "Does mordecai now wonder if marigold got atlas killed?" with the same eternal questions of [how was mordecai involved such that he had a gun. and knows what happened, yet Now thinks he had this room for error] and [what was mitzi's established culpability, exactly]

like, i am wondering if mordecai could be wondering if A Culling Of Lucrative Associates could have been extended to killing lucrative associate atlas may. seems like a possibility. pawsibility (cats)

could he just be doing this if he only wonders for what purrpose atlas died. i.e., he Knows he Knows how atlas died (which he sure seems to consider more in question, what do you mean you Thought it was a private affair, it Should be impossible, etc) and this is just that hypothetical question of "maybe i was wrong about why atlas chose to die, & i Need To Figure Out the actual reason." and like, why. for closure. for finding out something Wasn't mitzi's fault, and getting to keep your hitman job with more familiar faces? for one, rooting for mordecai and the savoys. more about that later

either way, it's also like. is mordecai really doing all this Just To Know / to put his mind at ease. he's risking a lot for information he's theoretically not going to do anything with, and putting a lot of effort into it anyways. but if he Is going to do something, what? it's not like he's never been Wanted For Murders that some people know he was behind, if that's the hypothetical issue re: atlas. would he want to Avenge atlas or something here? at any cost? aligning with drago like look i wanna kill whoever runs marigold, but my problem is i don't know who that is. not like mordecai Fully going rogue from marigold here seems that far-fetched just inherently, and even less so since that's like, already partly underway. and with the savoys anticipating that they may not always be on the same professional side, whether b/c mordecai's about to break away or b/c they know They're close enough to it at any time, and might just join him b/c, idk. they want to keep shaking him up like a jar of glitter; they also want to know more about what's going on with marigold; maybe even some third thing

it's still a question like, how could mitzi and mordecai have enough of a cohesive idea of how atlas died (or is presumed to have died) that they think there's nothing left to figure / they know enough of how it came about to think that mitzi's at fault for something or other....And for there to be room for mordecai to be questioning so much about it, when, if anything, he might have even more information about it than mitzi does? what role does he think mitzi played and maybe still thinks she played But now he can also be like "but also was marigold involved" like, wha. what's understood between them, what's been questioned between them? tldr let's consider it intently again:

i'm also considering those flowers. Important in general, daisies and marigolds, but those are decidedly Not daisies when there's even thee daisy depicted in the frame there. anyone an expert on five-petaled flowers....forget-me-nots don't have pointed petals like that....it might not be meant to be any particular flower, or meaningful. but there it is. and, again, like....so there's enough of Something between mitzi and mordecai such that mitzi can be like "maybe you'd tell someone something" and mordecai can be like "of course i didn't," but they don't seem to be exactly close or even like, in contact, and mordecai certainly resents mitzi / blames her for something (if not actually being motivated to try to destroy everything she has left) but they still both expect each other to keep the secret....like, it's definitely true that even if they both know they both have whatever similar enough emotional motivation re: atlas, they could have too begrudging an alliance to feel like they'll both definitely Keep it a secret. unless it's somehow adequately separately in their own interests. i doubt mitzi's only declining to publish a personal ad like "i definitely didn't kill atlas. btw." b/c it's still too fresh a topic, while people already think she maybe did kill him, so what's she gaining by not talking about it....what's mordecai gaining by not talking about it, or blaming mitzi to the point of telling people oh yeah she did shoot anyone, even if he knows she didn't. if mitzi knows mordecai shot atlas, what's she keeping that secret for....if mordecai has enough of [some kind of emotional motivation] re: atlas to now be driven by grief over him, and mitzi feels anything about this was her fault, why expect mordecai to work with her? if she didn't know mordecai had that motivation, why turn to him at all? like what are our motivations....a) covering up crime, probably not, unless it's about atlas not finding out about one, which transitions into b) money, did mordecai embezzle once? he could do it again. or for the first time, then c) love, decidedly not between mordecai and mitzi, could be For atlas somehow....even some third or fourth thing, but what other kind of connection could these two have. what could mitzi even have been up to to be Culpable in some way surrounding atlas's death, but not so directly responsible that mordecai isn't still protecting the secret? how was mordecai there with a gun and thinking he knows how it happened / who was privy to it, and now be like, i have to solve his murder mystery. i'm puzzling....

said i'd get back to the savoys. mostly i had the brilliant insight that like, i was noting that mordecai Is in the dark, at crossroads, between places, etc. but it then occurred to me like, yknow look for the connection that is: they gifted mordecai w/their diable, who for them provided some Light, literal even. and then i'm like, hmm, mordecai sure put up a literal light. kinda like a ghostlight, even though it's also not that so nvm....then it was like let's just check page "illumination" while dramatically smacking foreheads

tell us more, bestie!!!

it's also funny how mordecai's autistic swag gives him that inscrutability / stealth factor to others just whether he likes it or not. he wants to go talk to mitzi about secrets so he just up and excuses himself from the table and his boss is like "lmfao what a weirdo, classic that guy. anyways." but not only do i doubt the savoys would think, based on their experiences with him, that mordecai's actually Having Fun At Work rn, but i also think they may actually have some more Accurate ideas re: mordecai, including already being like "well, we're the same," rather than taking a more dismissive, othering perspective towards him. and i certainly think their diable is not Not going to have helped mordecai out here, so somehow he must be on the right path for his purposes, even when i'm in the dark between places about it lol. i don't have a diable. unbelievable pondering the hotel room scene we just chasséd past there btw.........i am rotating it in my mind. anyways. i'm not so sure that if the savoys find out mordecai's solving some murder mystery they won't be like "'hahaha amazing right on. well, now we're helping" ft. more specific affectionate nicknames and despite his not offering to let them in on it. take up the path together, stay friends no matter what, nobody get eaten from the inside out in a bad hot temper way, please. also i think nicodeme and mordecai should date

i have no stronger point to leave off on, and i Think i covered all the pondering updates, and this has been going on a minute, so. continuing to ponder

[doomface]

Does anyone know of any Avatar Legends play-by-post discords? I'd be interested in joining and playing in one!

[happygirl2oo2]

Nico and Libby / Nicholas and Seiji:

[wileycap]

So, uh, Netflix Avatar, huh? Yeah. I guess I'll make a really long post about it because ATLA brainrot has is a cornerstone of my personality at this point.

So.

It's okay. B, maybe a C+.

That's it.

Now for the spoilers:

The biggest issue with the Netflix version is the pacing. Scenes come out of nowhere and many of the episodes are disjointed. Example: Aang escaping from Zuko's ship. We see him getting the key and going "aha!", and in the next scene he's in Zuko's room. And then he just runs out, no fun acrobatics or fights, and immediately they go to the Southern Air Temple where he sees Gyatso's corpse, goes into the Avatar state, and then sees Gyatso being really cheesy, comes out of it, and resolves that conflict. Nothing seems to lead into anything. The characters don't get to breathe.

The show's worst mistake (aside from Iroh fucking murdering Zhao) is its' first one: they start in the past. Instead of immediately introducing us to our main characters and dropping us into a world where we have a perfect dynamic where Aang doesn't know the current state of the world and Katara and Sokka don't know about the past, thus allowing for seamless and organic worldbuilding and exposition, they just... tell us. "Hey, this is what happened, ok, time for Aang!" There's no mystery, no intrigue, just a stream of information being shoved down the audience's throats and then onto the next set piece.

The visuals are for the most part great, but like with most Netflix productions, they just don't have great art direction. It feels like a video game cinematic, where everything is meant to be Maximum Cool - and none of the environments get to breathe. It's like they have tight indoor sets (with some great set design) and then they have a bunch of trailer shots. It's oozing with a kind of very superficial love.

Netflix still doesn't know how to do lighting, and with how disjointed the scenes are, the locations end up feeling like a parade of sets rather than actual cities or forests or temples. As for the costumes, Netflix still doesn't know how to do costumes that look like they're meant to be actually worn, so many of the characters seem weirdly uncomfortable, like they're afraid of creasing their pristine costumes.

The acting is decent to good, for the most part. I can't tell if the weaker moments come down to the actors or the direction and editing, but if I had to guess, I'd say the latter. Iroh and Katara are the weakest, Sokka is the most consistent, Zuko hits the mark most of the time, and Aang is okay. I liked Suki (though... she was weirdly horny? Like?) but Yue just fell kind of flat.

The tight fight choreography of the original is replaced with a bunch of spinny moves and Marvel fighting, though there are some moments of good choreography, like the Agni Kai between Ozai and Zuko (there's a million things I could say about how bad it was thematically, but this post is overly long already.) There's an actually hilarious moment in the first episode when Zuko is shooting down Aang, and he does jazz hands to charge up his attack.

Then there's the characters. Everybody feels very static - Zuko especially gets to have very little agency. A great example of that is the scene in which Iroh tells Lieutenant Jee the story of Zuko's scar.

In the original, it's a very intimate affair, and he doesn't lead the crew into any conclusions. Here, Iroh straight up tells the crew "you are the 41st, he saved your lives" and then the crew shows Zuko some love. A nice moment, but it feels unearned, when contrasted with the perfection of The Storm. In The Storm, Zuko's words and actions directly contradict each other, and Iroh's story gives the crew (and the audience) context as to why, which makes Zuko a compelling character. We get to piece it out along with them. Here - Iroh just flat out says it. He just says it, multiple times, to hammer in the point that hey, Zuko is Good Actually.

And then there's Iroh. You remember the kindly but powerful man who you can see gently nudging Zuko to his own conclusions? No, he's a pretty insecure dude who just tells Zuko that his daddy doesn't love him a lot and then he kills Zhao. Yeah. Iroh just plain kills Zhao dead. Why?

Iroh's characterization also makes Zuko come off as dumb - not just clueless and deluded, no, actually stupid. He constantly gets told that Iroh loves him and his dad doesn't, and he doesn't have any good answers for that, so he just... keeps on keeping on, I guess? This version of Zuko isn't conflicted and willfully ignorant like the OG, he's just... kind of stupid. He's not very compelling.

In the original, Zuko is well aware of Azula's status as the golden child. It motivates him - he twists it around to mean that he, through constant struggle, can become even stronger than her, than anyone. Here, Zhao tells him that "no, ur dad likes her better tee hee" and it's presented as some kind of a revelation. And then Iroh kills Zhao. I'm sorry I keep bringing that up, but it's just such an unforgiveable thematic fuckup that I have to. In the original, Zhao falls victim to his hubris, and Zuko gets to demonstrate his underlying compassion and nobility when he offers his hand to Zhao. Then we get some ambiguity in Zhao: does he refuse Zuko's hand because of his pride, or is it his final honorable action to not drag Zuko down with him? A mix of both? It's a great ending to his character. Here, he tries to backstab Zuko and then Iroh, who just sort of stood off to the side for five minutes, goes "oh well, it's murderin' time :)"

They mess with the worldbuilding in ways that didn't really need to be messed with. The Ice Moon "brings the spirit world and the mortal world closer together"? Give me a break. That's something you made up, as opposed to the millenia of cultural relevance that the Solstice has. That's bad, guys. You replaced something real with something you just hastily made up. There's a lot of that. We DID NOT need any backstory for Koh, for one. And Katara and Sokka certainly didn't need to be captured by Koh. I could go on and on, but again, this post is already way too long.

It's, um, very disappointing. A lot of telling and not very much showing, and I feel like all of the characters just... sort of end up in the same place they started out in. I feel like we don't see any of the characters grow: they're just told over and over again how they need to grow and what they need to do.

To sum it up: Netflix Avatar is a mile wide, but an inch deep.

[agentcomstock]

A Katlas Christmas

---------

Atlas was nervous. She was never nervous.

After everything she's been through, she thought nervousness didn't exist past the age of 12.

Never scared during her combat trials. Never scared in the wild of Alaska. It was almost a new and unprocessed emotion. her stomach soured over the inkling of an idea that made her palms sweat and heart palpitate.

She had no idea what to get K.A.T for Christmas. She didn't even know if he celebrated! Oh for goodness sake, she hasn't celebrated since she was 5! Why does Christmas exist? To confide in family, eat to your heart's content and celebrate togetherness? Not to Atlas. Christmas meant more chores around the Church, including outside. Being the tallest, she was in charge of putting and taking down every single light that went into a tree or building. Rain, shine, and even snow.

She roamed the streets of her hometown, wondering what to gift him. She still really didn't know much about K.A.T besides his love of boba and a shared interest in EDM and rock music.

Maybe an album? A record player?

She finally ducked her head into an antique shop. It smelled like baby's breath flower and old cigarettes, coating her clothes and mask in the sickly sweet scent.

Shelves and tables full of old oil lamp, glass cups and bowls, and kids toys.

She spotted something out of the corner of her eye — a large stuffed bear with creamy caramel brown fur adorned with a bright red bow on its neck. She immediately picked it up and examined it. Perfect.

She walked through the music section, finding broken record players, Walkmans, and even a sealed 1977 "Heroes" album from David Bowie.

On a shelf hidden away she spotted a music box. It was made of metal and wood, at least 50 years old. She moved the hand crank and a beautiful rendition of "You are my Sunshine" started to play.

Smiling to herself, she clutched the box tighter in her hand.

Maybe this Christmas wouldn't be so bad after all?

She stopped by another store and picked up some wrapping paper and a bow for the music box. She could have settled with a small bag, but Christmas was honestly a foreign concept.

Back at her studio, she began wrapping it in a cartoon reindeer paper, making sure the metal didn't rip the corners and placed the bow on top.

She waited for the time to come where he'd be over. Maybe he forgot the invite. Maybe she forgot to tell him? Her worries mounted until a soft knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. With a sigh of relief, she opened the door and smiled brighter than she ever has.

"Merry Christmas, Atlas!"

"Merry Christmas, K.A.T"

——————

"I'm... really happy you came. It means a lot, K.A.T." Atlas greeted shyly. Heat rose to her face and her skin prickled with threats of sweat. It was by no means warm in the apartment, but K.A.T brought her all the warmth she needed.

She went to the kitchenette and grabbed a bottle of wine; Stella Berry. It was sweet and tasted like juice. She needed something to distract her mind for the moment.

"Want anything to drink? I have these like... Premade boba drinks. I remember you mentioning you like boba awhile back, but Cops Bay doesn't really have any of those shops."

She lived on the coast of Oregon, a couple hours outside of Eugene. It was a quiet but large city of about 15,000 with a lot of lumbering and ironwork as it's cliche job area.

Atlas heard K.A.T's helmet chirp and she looked over at him — his screen was lit up with hearts. She giggled to herself and made him a brown sugar boba; the classic.

"I don't have much else, I'm sorry." She walked over and handed him the glass, gestured to the lack of decoration besides a crude looking table top tree and string lights.

"No no! I think it's cozy. Don't need a whole lot if you're not living here, right? We don't get to go home often, so it only makes sense." K.A.T reassured her, grabbing the cup from her hands. He looked up and flashed a smile. He hadn't noticed before, but she wore a simple mask instead of the one she wears on base. He smiled softly beneath his helmet, but couldn't help to wonder what lies beyond that. What she could possibly be covering up. He shook the thought as quickly as it came, not wanting to hold onto the thought for much longer.

They chatted for awhile as Atlas built a fire in a small wood stove that was nestled into a corner.

Hours passed and Atlas found herself curled up next to K.A.T, her head resting on his chest.

What was supposed to be one glass of wine turned into three bottles. Miracle on 34th Street was playing on the TV in front of them. She might not have had much, but a functional living room was a must.

"Hey Atlas... I got you something for Christmas." K.A.T gently poked her forehead, waking her up from a micro nap.

"Y'didnt need to get me anything silly..." Her words trailed off, as if she were still half asleep. He laughed and carefully set her upright and went near the door to grab her present. He didn't see this side of her on base. She was cold and sharp, always on the lookout for threats, no matter how much he tried to tell her that if there was anyone nearby that would hurt her, he would be there in a heartbeat to save her. If not him, then Ghost and Soap. They've seemed to take a liking to her. A little too much for his taste.

Atlas was coherent and standing by the time K.A.T came back over and handed her the present.

"Here! Open it."

"Oh my god you actually got me something..." She said quietly. Atlas meticulously opened the box to find a small stuffed cat holding a star that said "press me"

"Ta da! I uh, wasn't sure what to get you. I hope you like plushies!"

Atlas pressed the star and a small message saying "hewwo! I wuv you!" played from the soundbox. Her chest tightened and her eyes stung, tears threatening to pour.

"I can't have this..." She said, looking at where K.A.T's eyes might be behind the helmet.

"What?? You don't like it??" K.A.T's screen module displayed a text emoticon of a crying face. She shook her head and explained.

"It's not that... I just don't think I can keep it safe." She bit her lip, trying to hold back tears. It was the first gift she had received in years. The nuns at the orphanage she lived in would constantly take her toys and comfort items. Why? They wanted to make her life hell to coerce her into attending service.

"Well! It's a good thing it's pocket sized! You can just keep it on you. You're pretty strong, so the safest place to keep it is you, no?" He redirected her thoughts back to what they should be; happy and content. The ability to keep something safe. Just anything to keep safe. She would put her life on the line for this plushie.

"Yeah... You're right. Thank you, K.A.T" she was still looking down at the cat when she made the decision to hug him.

K.A.T was taken aback, stuttering too fast for the voice module to keep up. He was essentially glitching. He eventually brought it together and hugged her back. The person he was hugging felt so fragile, as if a pebble was enough to break her entire being. The moment passed as soon as it came, and she ducked back where her bed was.

"I also... Got you something. Great minds think alike, yeah?" She handed him the bear and music box she had picked up earlier in the day.

"Oh my god! This is amazing!" K.A.T did a little dance where he stood, like a kid being brought ice cream. He took the bear first, hugging it tight and petting the fur. "He's adorable! Oh my goodness I love him! Thank you thank you!" He couldn't contain his excitement. She laughed a little too loud, and K.A.T heard her. His display showed two exclamation marks that morphed into question marks.

"Your laugh is cute. Why don't you do that around base?" He inquired, forgetting about imaginary boundaries he set for her. He immediately back pedaled and started apologizing.

"No it's okay. I'm just on guard on base. I try to be all the time, but the wine said not tonight." She jeered, giving him the wrapped box. He unwrapped it as carefully as he could.

The box shown brightly. The edges were made of iron and the box of cherry. There was a woodburned design on top of a Celtic knot with smaller runes and symbols around it.

"I also... wasn't sure what to get you, but the music box called to me." Atlas said sheepishly. She was looking down, picking at her nails nervously as K.A.T had been silent for a little longer than she wanted him to be. He opened the music box and started turning the handle.

"Atlas this is... amazing. No one's ever given me something like this before." His voice was raw, as if he were choking back tears. He hummed along to the tune and started walking around the room. The humming turned into singing. The most beautiful voice Atlas has ever heard. The heat returned to her face and she silently thanked herself for still wearing the mask.

"Sing for me again sometime. Please?" She asked anxiously.

K.A.T rapidly nodded in response.

The two eventually returned to the couch, watching some more cult classic Christmas movies.

Atlas was sound asleep by 10:30 and K.A.T needed to leave before a majority of the holiday traffic took hold of the roads.

He gently picked her up bridal style and placed her in the bed, making sure to cover her up and take off her glasses. He quickly went to the kitchen and grabbed her a cup of water and scrounged for some Advil for the next morning.

Once he was sure she was settled and comfortable, he turned to leave the bedside when suddenly, Atlas' hand found itself intertwined with his.

"stay… please stay…" she mumbled. K.A.T's heart skipped several beats as he realized what situation he was in. "Don't wanna be alone… " K.A.T sighed tentatively, obliging her request. Thankfully, his bag had an extra pair of comfortable clothes. He stripped down in the bathroom and came out, forgetting his only bottoms were shorts. The metal of his prosthetics glistened softly from the lights outside. He already agreed, there was no backing out.

"I'm probably not gonna be the most comfortable person to lay next to. Kinda made of metal." He joked, sliding in next to her.

"Mmm don't care…" she rolled over and looked at him. Her mask was off, and she smiled softly at him. "You're all I wanted for Christmas… " She leaned over, almost being able to fog up his screen with her breath, and put her forehead to his.

"Thank you, K.A.T" she closed her eyes, almost instantly asleep again. He watched her breathe. Chest slowly rising and falling. Her face and arms twitching at different intervals, as if she were fighting back on the field.

If K.A.T and Atlas were sure of anything at this moment in time, it was that this was serendipitous and neither of them wanted to go back in a few days time. Just to lay here, safe and comfortable, was all they both wanted.

[daycourtofficial]

Gingerfucker - Eris x Rhys’s Sister!reader Masterlist

Banner by @milswrites | Note: these are in chronological order by content, not by posting date. This is an ongoing series and will be updated.

Summary: no one is more surprised than Eris Vanserra to find that he is capable of much more than just political ambition

Some art of the babies: (Nyx and Atlas) (All the gingersnaps) (Atlas and Leif) (Atlas) (the family)

Art by @dawneternal: Eris during the events of Cold was the steel of my axe to grind, portraits of the gingersnaps, art of Eris and Atlas

Gingerfucker week 2024 blurbs

Moodboard

It’s just to satiate the bond - an agreement to have sex just to satiate a mating bond neither party wants is a great idea. Surely no one will get hurt, right?

One single thread of gold tied me to you* - Eris accepts the mating bond and is incredibly touched by the effort you put into cooking him the meal from scratch

All’s well that ends well to end up with you - fears and doubts cause you and Eris to do your first irrational act together: a secret mating bond ceremony

I am ash from your fire - Surprising Eris one evening, you’ve turned up in the dead of night to let him know that your brother had figured out your secret relationship, offering you an ultimatum.

Cold was the steel of my axe to grind - centuries of plotting and scheming come to a head when his mate unexpectedly arrives in Autumn and Eris is desperate to set his plans in motion, least she become a piece for Beron to use against him

Chains around my demons, wool to brave the seasons - Eris leaves his mate alone in the Forest House, telling her to trust no one but his mother. The two women are ill-equipped to provide frontline fighting, but surely they can help Eris in their own way. *companion piece to ‘Cold was the steel of my axe to grind’

Hell was the journey but it brought me Heaven - in the immediate aftermath of Beron’s death and the thrum of power in his veins, Eris’s mate forces him to, at the bare minimum, bathe

Secret exchanges - a few weeks after the aftermath of Rhys’s banishment, your mate, the new High Lord of the Autumn Court, has a secret meeting with someone from your family.

Blood moon in Autumn - fae cycles are no joke, but your mate is always there to provide you comfort in the best way possible: by being your personal heating pad

Have I found you, flightless bird? - a reflection of a life of secrets and expectations and how, despite it all, a flightless bird found home in an unlikely place

Ferocious beasts with soft bellies - Eris’s hounds know you’re pregnant before either of you do, driving the two of you wild with their newfound devotion to you.

Starfall in Autumn - based on the prompt for Starfall week “characters a and b realize they won’t make it to Starfall. They make the most of what they have to celebrate”

Laborious anxieties - Eris is riddled with anxiety leading up to your labor, but what happens when some of his worst fears come to fruition?

Cursing my name, wishing I stayed - your relationship with Rhysand had been icy at best, but your attempts to reconcile are quick to be shot down. A rash decision leads you to endangering your life - can Eris find you in time? Can he save your infant son?

Amber eyes, looking into mine - Eris finds something in his study that triggers him into a frozen state of panic. Who better suited to pulling Eris from his past than his future?

We started alone, in the end we’re okay - on a rare night alone, Eris reflects on his long life and the lonely nights that haunted his youth. And how he’s a long way from the person he was and the person he had to be.

Fireling - every father’s dream is to be there the day his son first uses his powers. Luckily for Eris, he gets just that.

How the kingdom lights shine just for me and you - Eris tells his sons a story, letting them know how a strong knight defeated an evil dragon and saved the kingdom.

Loving parents, harmless fun - Modern!Gingerfucker - slice of life where Eris takes his family on a roadtrip and is only slightly annoyed at his son’s choice of car game

* = smut

[popamolly]

I HAVE A REQ FOR VAL

reader will be a one of the employees who works the cameras at the studio, the rumor that she has a huge crush on val gets out and he confronts her.. in the end having a few drinks which loosens her up and makes her confess how much she wants him and val shows her the time of her life 🤗🤗 (bonus points for overstim and degrading/ praise)

៸៸ ﹟CUT THE CAMERAS!

pairing. valentino x fem!reader

warnings. valentino exists, valentino x fem!employee!reader, smut, oneshot, rough sex, degradation/praise (best of both worlds), overstimulation, reader is a bit tipsy, vouyerism (?), Valentino doesn’t get to cum >:)

author’s note. thank you for the idea anon! this is kinda long because i got carried away but i hope you enjoy <3 (I also want to note that i do not condone Valentine’s actions toward Angel in the show) and as always, request are open!

𖤐 MASTERLIST

“Oh no! I’m a bad boy and I need a real hunk daddy to put me in my place!” Angel acted out the script well, his voice clearly blurring the lines of authenticity as you focused the camera on him and the four large demons that surrounded him. The demons were definitely jocks on Earth because they towered over Angel with ease, their swollen cocks in hand dripping with precum, ready to snap the poor spider like a twig, “Yes, daddy! Stuff me full of your cock!”

All you could think about was how lucky you were to be on the opposite side of the camera. You couldn’t even imagine taking someone or something as large as a forearm, not even to mention the girth— and there was four of them. Angel Dust truly was a wonder and you commended him for his bravery. Little did you know that he was under a contract that practically forced him to do the things he was doing. Did he want to be a pornstar? Not really. Did he want to be a druggie? Who’s to say. Hell was definitely that, Hell.

You focused on your job with a sigh. Which was to work your camera to get all the right angles, preferably with Angel’s fucked out face or holes in the shot. The workers behind the camera wouldn’t dare move from their post on set. Everyone was in their respective roles under Valentino’s watchful gaze.

‘Valentino,’ Just his name in your thoughts had your heart beat quickening. Everything about him was so alluring that you couldn’t help but be intrigued by him. You glanced over in his direction which was across the set from you, giving you a good view of the man you’ve had a crush on since the moment you got this job. He sat tall in his directors chair, right leg crossed over his left elegantly to expose his fish net tights and smooth toned legs. The sight alone could make you drool and he wasn’t doing anything else than just sitting there, ‘Fuck, he is so hot’.

But your thoughts were only just that, thoughts. A silly crush that you told yourself you would grow out of eventually.

You blinked out of your thoughts suddenly at the sound of Angel’s pleasurable scream of ecstasy. After a few more cheesy lines exchanged from the script the scene was officially over.

“And scene! Good job everyone, wrap it up!” Your manager claps before walking Valentino over to my camera to look at the still shots I took and a preview of the video. The lights in the studio came on just as the pair came to stand next to you. Your manager nearly shoves you to the side to take credit of the knowledge of videography like you weren’t just the one that stood behind the camera for hours. If anything you should be the one showcasing your work to Valentino and present him all the best stills you took during the scene— it was your work after all. But atlas you were nothing more than a lowly employee that can’t even draw the attention of the Boss.

“We will delete these as the light is a bit off and to the left, not really highlighting Angel,” Your manager clicked an arrow to scroll through the picture, “Whoever was on light duty needs to be fired.”

“Just trash the ones we can’t use,” Valentino lets out a puff of pink smoke in annoyance, “I only want the best shots of Angel.”

You looked toward the screen, speaking before actually thinking, “Well if you adjust the lighting and contrast on the photos it should be salvageable.”

“Excuse me?” Your manager glares at you, “You aren’t a professional. Your job is to hold a camera, that is it—!”

Valentino covers your managers mouth with one of his four hands before tilting his head at you in curiosity, “You can fix the photos, darling?”

You nearly jump out of your skin with excitement. Valentino was talking to you— actually talking to you and looking in your direction. All you could do was nod at his question before turning toward the computer that was next to the camera, fixing the problem in less than five minutes and presenting the stills to Valentino in anticipation.

Valentino looks them over with a grin, “Perfect, caro. You just potentially saved me thousands of dollars.” Now that he was standing in front you the tall moth man had a chance to take a good look at you. A wicked smile on his face as he had countless of thoughts in his head on just how he could use that perfect body of yours. Something about you had him twitching in want and it wasn’t like Valentino ignore his urges.

Valentino outstretched his arm to extend his body down to be able to take your hand in one of his, his lips brushing against your knuckles gently in a sweet affectionate kiss that had you swooning, “Follow me to my office? I wish to discuss something with you.”

“Oh—I—Um—Okay!” You agreed, stumbling over your words as you tried to ignore the feeling of your manager burning a hole into your head. Without complaint you follow Valentino up some steps and into his large office that just so happened to have a king size bed conveniently placed in the middle of the room, “Did I do something wrong, Valentino?”

“Nonsense! Quite the opposite,” Valentino gestures you to sit on one of his gaudy plush animal print chairs as he walks over to his alcohol table to pour you and himself a drink, “You captured my attention for the time being, how lucky for you, principessa.”

“I-I guess so,“ You gladly take the wine glass Valentino offers you, gliding your fingertips along the rim nervously. Your heart was pounding so much you felt as if it would burst out your chest. Now that you were prey under his gaze you felt as though he would pounce on you at any moment. And the crazy part was that you’d let him. You would let him do every dirty deed to you in the book if he wanted.

To calm your nerves you quickly downed your first glass of wine before letting Valentino offer you another glass. And then another. It wasn’t long before your head was spinning slightly from the buzz the alcohol gave you due to your lightweight nature. It for sure made this interaction easier and even loosened your tongue.

“Can I be honest with you?” You at least still had a clear mind to confess what has been on your mind for weeks now. It was now or never right? “I secretly hoped for this… for you to notice me.”

“Oh?” Valentino raised his eyebrow teasingly, “How naughty of you.”

“Naughty or not..” You sat on the edge of your chair, your knees brushing up against his, “You’re an inspiration Val, truly. I admire you and the work that you do.”

Valentino smiles wide, his gold tooth shining in the light, before taking a small sip of his wine before setting down the glass on a side table. You were giving him such an ego boost that he was starting to like you more and more.

“(Y/N), was it? What a pretty name,” Valentino wasn’t fooled by your innocent persona. If anything, he knew you were the exact opposite. He never breathed down any of his employees necks but he always did an intense research on them and of course nothing happened on his side of Pride Ring without him knowing. Every conversation you had with your fellow coworkers was something he heard about verbatim. This little crush you had on him was flattering to say the least and Valentino wanted to see how far you would take your feelings for him, “Have you ever thought about being in front of the camera instead of behind it? I could make you a star, sweetheart.”

That being said he was good at reading people, and it was quite clear that you were shrinking under his gaze. But it wasn’t from fear— no, it was from something more sensual. Valentino couldn’t help but smirk at you and think how turned on you were and how you did such a terrible job of hiding it.

“Really?” You looked up to meet Valentino’s gaze with such hopeful and naive eyes that your boss felt his cock twitch, “I’m not very photogenic…”

“Oh mio caro, that is an easy fix,” Valentino brought his finger under your glass to slowly tip it up, forcing you to finish your drink down to the last drop. Once you were finished he delicately takes the glass from your hands and sets it aside, “All you have to do it just find a perfect angle that suits you just right.”

With your mind slightly a buzz, you lookedup at Valentino’s looming figure with a soft look, “Valentino—”

“Show me, darling.” Valentino clicks his tongue, fluffing the fur around his neck collar as his heart shaped glasses fell to the bridge of his nose, “Show me how you touch yourself and I promise to find that perfect angle for you.”

With that you are gently pushed down onto the bed, Valentino’s soft hands gliding along your inner thigh before spreading your legs apart, which in turn raises your skirt you were wearing to your waist. A pleased hum falling from his lips as he noticed your pink colored thong you were wearing that had a wet patch beginning to form right in the middle.

“I-I have never..don’t this before,” You admit, “In front of a camera I mean.”

“Oh my darling, there will be no camera, just us.” Valentino took a long drag from his cigarette, “I can find your perfect angle through my eyes alone. Now..show me.”

You got comfortable on the bed, trying to relax your mind and invision yourself in the comfort of your own home. You felt so small under Valentino’s gaze and it caused nothing but a pleasurable shiver to go down your spine as you removed your panties which Valentino was quick to take from your hands so he could sniff them with a deep inhale.

“So obedient,” Valentino smirks at the whimpers that left your lips, eyes fixed on the way your fingers messily rubbed over your clit, “Aren’t you, principessa?”

You nod wordlessly, so caught up in chasing your orgasm, you didn’t even notice Valentino sauntering closer to you. Your fingers began to move faster and faster before they’re pulled away from you suddenly, a whine leaving your lips from your denied orgasm. “You’ll cum when I say slut,” Valentino orders, his fingers rubbing through your soaked pussy at an agonizingly slow pace. You gasp, hips rising for more contact.

“Patience, darling, is a virtue.” You bit down on your bottom lip at Valentino’s words, “You’re so wet for me, i just want to make a mess of you.”

A light moan leaves your lips when you feel the tips of his fingers dip into your needy cunt. You don’t even get a chance to respond before his lips are pressed roughly onto yours, his tongue instantly invading your mouth, your moans now muffled as his fingers continued to skillfully move against your aching pussy. Valentino bites your lip, tugging on the flesh before plunging his fingers back into you, your back arching off the bed at the pleasure.

“V-Valentino! F-Fuck..!”

“Such a good girl for being so patient,” His praises only turn you on even more, if all was possible. “A dirty, fucking girl who wants nothing more than to cum, hm? i feel you tightening around my fingers mio caro.” Valentino is amused by the way your pussy sucks his fingers in with every thrust, “Oh you have such a pretty pussy.”

You whine from the way his thumb ghosts over your clit, “P-Please!”

“Please what, darling? Use that pretty voice of yours hm?”

“P-Please…can I cum?”

Valentino chuckles darkly, thumb rubbing your clit roughly as his fingers continue to pump in and out of you in a fast pace, “Cum for me slut.” You clench your eyes shut from the pleasure, loud, sultry moans leaving your lips with each pump of his fingers. You feel the knot in your stomach begin to tighten, your walls clenching around his digits desperately.

“Ah—! Fuck!” You’re too caught up in finally catching your orgasm. That intense wave crashing over you, leaving your fluttering hole clenching around Valentino’s slender fingers as he continued to pistol them in and out of you at fast pace so you could ride out your mindboggling orgasm.

“There it is! Good fucking girl,” Valentino positions himself between your legs, placing hot kisses onto your neck as your body continues to writhe beneath him, your back arches from the feeling of his tip rubbing between your sensitive folds, a whimper falling from your lips from the overstimulation you felt, “Oh I am not finished with you yet.”

“W-wait! Val—!” You nearly cry out when he pushes himself into you roughly.

“Shhhh,” Valentino’s fingers curl around your throat, his mouth lowering to your ear as his other two hands pin your legs to your chest, putting you in a deep folding press that allowed him to go impossibly deeper, “You’re doing so well for me, sweetheart. Look how this slutty hole takes my cock with ease.”

His thrusts start off slow and deep, each thrust nearing you to yet another orgasm. Everything about him was starting to become addicting. You wanted it all, his touch, his breath, his tongue— you wanted him to use you like his own personal fuck toy. You try to move your hips to match his thrusts, only for his grip to tighten around your throat, a low growl leaving his lips.

“You’re a natural at this, aren’t you dear? You want to get fucked like a slut that bad huh?” Tears began to escape your eyes as Valentino begins to pick up the pace, the tip of his dick kissing your cervix with every thrust. The overstimulation was too much and you couldn’t help but cry from the overwhelming pleasure, “Look at you, such a perfect whore for me.”

You wrap your hands around his wrist to leverage yourself, his grip around your throat nearly sending you over the edge. You felt the sudden desperate need to cum again and you couldn’t hold it back anymore.

Valentino groans from the feeling of your cunt clenching around his dick sporadically, “You going to cum again for me, mio caro? Fucking do it.” He licks his lips at the sight of your tear stained face contorted with pleasure, bringing down his free hand to circle around your clit roughly, your loud moans bouncing off the walls of the dimly lit room, “Do it, slut.”

You release the moment the words left his mouth, Valentino’s thrust coming to a halt as his fingers continue to make a mess of your clit, the clear liquid squirting all over your legs and his pelvis.

Fuck, did he love this. You were falling right into his hands like a moth to a flame and he planned on using that against you. Your naivety and love for him was going to be your downfall and he would be right there with sweet words to guide your hand into signing your soul to him. You would be another star in the making, another flower ready to bloom under the sparkling light. And Valentino couldn’t wait to use that to his advantage.

“That’s my good little whore,” He didn’t even give you a moment to catch your breath before moving his hips once again, “Now you’re going get that slutty pussy to squirt for me again.”

© POPAMOLLY 2024 all fanfics belong to me, do not copy, translate, or repost in any other social media.

[duckiemimi]

gojo in jjk 236

i’m not one to advocate for prying away creative control from a creator’s (mangaka’s) cramped, overworked hands, and i understand that with oftentimes fandoms get so big that the story warps itself into something out of the creator’s control, but i do know what a good character arc looks like (i’ve seen it in this very story before) and i do know what public pressure can do to a creative mind.

that being said, keeping gojo dormant for more than a hundred chapters, then unsealing him only for him to gain nothing from his long-drawn out fight with sukuna is insane. i was assuming we were building up stakes in his character arc! i didn’t think he’d die prematurely without resolution! how could he be given a meaningless death when it was all he and geto talked about at one point?

gojo could’ve been living proof that change is possible and that fate is breakable. he was born after multiple cycles of six eyes and limitless users, he was born a baby-shaped building block, jujutsu’s atlas with the world on his shoulders. alone and untouchable. but he changed because he met geto. he changed because he met shoko, because he met megumi and yuuta and yuuji and every single character that has loved and cared about him. love changed him. to be loved is to be changed, and to have him go without an ending line to, “this is just a personal theory, but love is the most twisted curse of them all,” is such a loss. it’s like a sentence without a full-stop, abruptly cut short with no continuation.

i initially thought that he’d be weakened by sukuna, but then his allies would come running to back him up—there is strength in solidarity! his true strength should’ve stemmed from solidarity and love! interdependence and connection should’ve been the peak of his character arc! why did we end up with nothing even after tens of chapters of him fighting for his life? why did every other character sit still instead of using their advantage in numbers?

but i do see where gege is headed. with gojo gone, the baton has been passed onto the next generation. there is no longer a biological “hierarchy” of power amongst the sorcerers (to an extent), and perhaps sukuna himself will falter because the balance of the universe was pulled from under their feet. besides love, jjk is also about generational second chances: sashisu and itakugifushi; toji and maki; geto and yuuji and yuuta; geto walking to tengen’s quarters alone, delivering riko almost hesitantly, and yuuji waking to tengen’s quarters with megumi, yuuta, choso, and yuki. silhouettes in the dark of the tunnels. hell, you could even count yaga as a teacher and gojo as a teacher. or yaga’s CT and how he gave a child another chance at life. yuuji’s multiple resurrections. kenjaku and tengen. i get it, i do—i understand what gege’s trying to do here, but i’m tired of him using these characters as plot devices instead of giving them the resolution they deserve. (especially for jjk’s cash cow…he deserved more than a rushed end.)

i do hope that that one theory about gojo only being able to die if his head is cut off is true. but even then, after all of the fake outs we’ve had to read, that would be a shitty cheap shot. i’ll try to have faith; even that is wavering.

[pshcomforts]

➳ love wins all | yjw.

idol!jungwon x fem!reader

“is it a bad ending?”

synopsis: jungwon, once again, forgot an important date for your guys’ relationship, and you’re tired of it.

warnings/content: written in third pov. angst to fluff. argument! toxic if you squint really hard. mentions of breakup. poor boy’s stressed out :( cursing (i think) and not proofread.

comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)

word count: 1.8k

༘˚⋆𐙚｡masterlist⋆.✧˚

current song playing: love wins all by iu

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

1:05 ─────|────────────── -3:22

the time was ticking.

y/n constantly looked at the clock, noticing the minutes go by faster than she thought. she sighed, “he didn’t really forget did he..?” the soft mumble leaving her lips as she didn’t want to believe it.

[ 1:24 am ] — the phone beamed.

she was beginning to give up on him. “just a few more minutes…,” the girl murmured, pushing back the tears that threatened to fall.

[ 1:40 am ] — time turned.

her heart sank at how long it’s been. she then decided to clean up the big surprise she had for her boyfriend, putting things away messily while letting tears dropping atlas as she felt useless.

suddenly, the door was being struggled to get unlocked. y/n waited, knowing that it was finally him but had no hopes anymore.

the doorknob was soon unlocked and in came her dimpled boyfriend, still in his practice outfit and seemingly fighting the urge to sleep.

no words were said. she only looked at him with disappointment. jungwon made eye contact with her once he took off his shoes and gave out a long sigh.

“oh hey baby,” he whispered, breaking the long silence that felt like torture

y/n didn’t answer right away. she waited for her throat to clear from the tears she let out.

“won, do you know what today was…?”

the tired male sighed in defeat, giving a clear hint to her that he had forgotten. “um…,” his one word changed y/n’s mood.

“i know you’re tired from practice, but i waited… for 4 hours.., you gave no message whatsoever, and i even told you how important this dinner was for us. did you even know it was our anniversary?”

y/n finally broke loose, letting out what she had been holding in for the past few hours in his absence. she looked at him, seeing if there was any mercy in his eyes but he only looked tired.

finally, he hoarsely spoke, “i know… i’m sorry i forgot.”

the girl scoffed at his words, tears falling constantly down from her eyes that had become red.

“that’s all you have to say??”

jungwon sighed again, his arm falling over his eyes as he said, “what do you want me to say?” in a tiring voice.

y/n stayed quiet in disbelief that her boyfriend of two years was really acting like this. “wonie, you don’t even remember our anniversary and now you’re not even being sincere with me?”

“look babe, we got heavily yelled at today and-“

“and that’s supposed to affect how we are at home?”

“why are you making it a bigger deal than it should be?” he quickly shot back.

jungwon sat up, finally making eye contact with his girl after a while. his eyes stayed firm and serious, no longer looking like the adorable boba eyes she once knew throughout the years.

“won, for the last few months, i’ve been feeling like i’m the only one in a relationship and it’s been getting tiring. i understand you have a busy schedule but-“

“if you understand then why are you even bringing this up?” the boy exasperated with a groan.

she huffed. he wasn’t understanding her point, and it was getting to her.

“because i feel like you don’t even understand me,” y/n’s voice trembled. quite suddenly, won stopped and finally took focus into her after he heard it.

“for so long, i feel like i’ve been putting effort only.” she added on, heart crumbling apart piece by piece.

jungwon sighed as his fluttering eyes stayed glued to the ground while mumbling, “you know how important it is to me to be in enhypen. you know that it’s what i’ve wanted for so long.”

the girl sniffled and wiped her tears away. “i know.. i do, but lately, you’ve been so distant. every mistake you’ve done in this relationship, i’ve excused but now.., you forgetting our anniversary is something i can’t look past on.”

he rolled his eyes, getting tired of going back and forth on this argument.

y/n took notice. of course she did. that little gesture was something unusual from her boyfriend. “you’re not even listening to what i’m saying won-“

“because! what you’re saying is nonsense. i’ve been going through so much as the leader for our comeback — keeping everything in order, making sure all the members are prepared..,” he sighed in exhaustion before continuing.

“i’m tired, and the last thing i want is to come home to an argument waiting to happen, which has been going on for a while, for absolutely no reason at all.”

the long awaited argument was now out.

jungwon had finally exploded, raising his voice in frustration whilst cutting her off in the process.

she was taken back by it of course, not knowing what to say as she stayed silent to what he said. he still wasn’t listening to her.

the male put his hands over his face and rubbed his eyes, almost feeling guilty of his explosion.

y/n took notice, sighing with a heartache inside as she huffed, “if it’s always going to be like this then.. maybe it’s best if we’re not together anymore.”

the sudden suggestion jolted jungwon from his half-asleep state. he stood and walked to her.

“you can’t be serious, y/n??”

his voice rose again, causing the girl to close her eyes from it. he sighed, half in regret and half in frustration.

“you really think your solution to this is breaking up?” he questioned.

the two were letting tears fall now, breakdowns happening left and right.

his hand touched her gentle cheek, subtly wiping away her tears as he slightly pushed her cheeks up so she can look at him. a small smile attempted to display on his lips for reassurance but y/n only turned away from the skinship.

she knew that most of their fights always ended like this, and she couldn’t have it like that anymore.

it was quiet.

nobody wanted to say anything that could ruin the mood even more. it remained like that before the girl suddenly heard the ruffles of his clothing and keys, knowing he was about to head out of the door.

she dreaded to ask the question but she had to. “did you ever really love me?”

the question stopped jungwon from walking any further. they both swiftly turned to each other, locking their watery eyes with betrayal and hurt emerged on their faces.

“that’s too much!” his voice broke in the sudden yell, causing the two to tremble down into more crying tears.

y/n felt everything crashing down, pain entering through her body all at once.

“i used to never question that until now, won.” she uttered in a shaky tone.

finally, he approached her after what she said. his eyes were filled with just as much pain as hers as they sparkled.

the boy wanted to apologize but he didn’t know how with how far they had gotten into it. none of their arguments had ever been this bad.

“you know i love you y/n…, you’re my girl. i can’t even imagine a life without you. you’re the only thing that matters in my life right now. i enjoy being an idol but you? you come first. you always will.”

a few voice cracks happened in his message that showed his raw emotion.

he locked eye contact with her, showing her his tears that he couldn’t control through it all.

✩ ‘i carefully hold you in my eyes’ ✩

y/n didn’t respond. she still felt hurt that he forgot the big and small events he used to know.

the girl only hugged him, squeezing him in her embrace that made the two only cry harder in each others arms.

she still said nothing.

the two stayed like that for a few minutes as she let jungwon cry it out.

only soft sobs and quiet sniffles were heard throughout the apartment. he was going through so much as the leader and this hug was what he needed.

✩ ‘hold me tight until i can’t breathe’ ✩

y/n needed more though. she wanted to hear his usual whispers of sweet nothings, his unique voice that always tingled in her ear, his warm hugs that felt like home.

✩ ‘i want to be sad with you my lover’ ✩

so she let him continue to sob until he felt better, and it was then that she left his embrace.

his favorite girl placed her hand on his tear-stained cheek in the process, only giving a half smile and leaving to their bedroom.

there were still no words said after that.

jungwon stayed out in the living room, sitting on the sofa as he continuously rubbed his eyes in frustration.

he was tired, and he just wanted the night to end.

after sitting with his thoughts for a few minutes longer, he finally decided to look at the clock.

[ 3:16 am ] — it read.

won sighed, believing that it was finally time to head into the bedroom as well.

as he stepped further to their room, he saw y/n on the very edge of her side of the bed. his heart ached, knowing he messed up big time.

“are you awake?” his soft voice spoke, standing where the door frame was in hesitation.

his adorable lips pressed into a thin line, showing his dimples as he contemplated on whether or not he should be in the same bed as her after the argument.

‘please… stay with me..,’ his favorite person thought, wide awake as she pretended to sleep.

truth be told, she didn’t know what his choice would be. it felt like she didn’t know who jungwon was anymore.

y/n stayed on her side of the bed, heart trembling in fear of how things would turn when suddenly feeling a huge dip on her opposite side.

he stayed.

a relief sighed out of her, though remaining sound asleep in his eyes.

he laid down on his side, abruptly pulling his girlfriend closer to him.

she felt the pull and complied. his body ghosted over hers as she turned around to come face to face with him.

the girl’s eyes slowly opened to meet his, and all he could do was display his subtle surprise that she was awake.

but they quickly softened at her reddened eyes that cried for comfort.

tears welled up in the two again.

their pillows became wet with them as jungwon softly mumbled — “i love you, baby.”

y/n sniffled her snot back in before replying, “i love you too.”

he sniffled as well, moving to kiss her forehead and pull her closer to him.

the tall male wrapped himself around his girlfriend, holding her near to let her know that he wouldn’t let her go that easily.

jungwon and y/n let the last of their tears leave their tired eyes for the night as her hand rested on his broad chest, and his arms confirmed the reassurance she needed.

they were okay again.

✩ ‘our love wins all, love wins all’ ✩

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

[pastafossa]

"Waking Nightmare" (Matt Murdock x F!Reader, Fic)🌧️

Time for the next prompt for my Tuna-Tober prompt challenge! This is for day 7. Took an extra day to work on it cause this is a very angsty one, since our prompt was 'Nightmare' and I went with the classic, 'he accidently swings at you while asleep' trope (many thanks to @sunflowersandsapphires and @shouldbestudying41 for helping me with our chats on this one!). You can see the rest of the prompts I've chosen here if you'd like to know what's coming this month from me. Also, if you'd like notifications when I post a new story, drabble, or chapter, you can follow my sideblog @pastaxandria and set it for notifications!

Ship: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Wordcount: 5.2k

Warnings for this chapter: BIG angst warning on this one, along with a warning for being hit (not intentional), nightmares, guilt, blood, Matt's convinced he committed DV so that is discussed.

It began, like so many disasters did, with a series of small fractures. 

What started as a horrible week turned out to be the harbinger of a truly terrible month for Matt. Despite near-constant, frantic late nights of casework at Nelson and Murdock, the firm lost two important cases in short order. Both cases had been a long shot when it came to success, but that had done little to soften the blow to Foggy, Karen, and Matt—especially Matt, who’d made promises to client families that he’d been unable to keep.

Matt’s work as Daredevil hadn’t gone much better. A new gang had moved into the Kitchen and set up shop, staking out a territory drenched in blood, ash, and terror. Matt had thrown himself into that fight with the same determination that he always did, and while he’d made serious progress breaking down their operation, there had still been losses. As far as he was concerned, the lives lost in the past month—the three targeted victims in the burning apartment complex he’d been unable to reach in time, and the two store clerks shot and killed in their shops before he could make it to them—were caused by his own personal failings. Despite your best attempts to convince him otherwise, the perceived blood on his hands had only driven him to devote himself even more ferociously to his work at night and during the day.

That devotion snowballed rapidly into a lack of sleep, often the first casualty in Matt’s life when things got stressful or busy. The exhaustion only sent him spiraling further into bouts of anger and a retreat behind his emotional walls. He snapped at you whenever you tried to talk to him about it, shying away from the kind touches he felt he didn’t deserve. While a quiet apology almost always came later in the night, soft and full of regret, it didn’t change the fact that you could see him beginning to splinter and crumble beneath the pressure he’d placed on himself, your Atlas carrying the world on his shoulders. You’d gone through this with him before, the periods in which it all seemed to go wrong and he refused to strap on the lifevests you stubbornly threw to him over and over again. As best you could tell, when these storms came there was no other option but to simply plant your roots deep and ride it out with him, ensure he knew he wasn’t alone. And when he finally fell to pieces, giving beneath the weight, you’d make sure he had a loving hand to help him glue his bloody, broken pieces back together. 

You’d thought that fracturing would come from something on the streets. Another death, maybe, or sheer exhaustion. 

You’d never expected it to happen here.

Not at home. 

“You’re going out?” You watched him dig through his father’s trunk for his suit, his back to you. He’d only just returned from another late night at the office. The only reason you were seeing him at all was because you’d woken up thirsty, heading out to the kitchen to get a glass of water. The distance between you both abruptly felt so much farther than a meager ten feet, so much harder to cross. Still, you tried. “It’s almost two. Some rest might—” “Don’t,” he said tightly, yanking his mask out and tossing it back onto the couch. He pulled out the rest of his suit next along with his billy clubs. His movements were unnaturally stiff, almost robotic. “I need to…” He sucked in an uneven breath, reaching up to run an exhausted hand through his dark hair.  After a moment, he dropped his hand, going back to what he’d been doing. If anything, your implication had only made him more determined, his voice now resolute and closed off. “Our appeals aren’t going well. The city’s quiet for the first time in a month, but that might not last. I need to go out. Just for an hour or two. Go back to bed.”

You gnawed on your lower lip in thought as he stalked over to the couch. Without his shirt, it was so much easier to see the lines of stress and tension cutting their way through him like winding roads, his muscles drawn up tight and hard. The bruising along the canvas of his back and ribs stood out with every neon flash of the billboard beyond the windows, adding a layer of blood red to the spiraling waves of deep blue and sullen indigo painted on his skin. That he’d been hurt even with the protection of the suit told you just how bad it had gotten out there. He needed rest, desperately. You both knew it. But you couldn’t bear the thought of trying to keep him here, forcing him to listen to the sounds of the city without being able to do anything about it. It was a promise you’d made to yourself, once, and you intended to keep it.

“Ok, D.” You kept your tone gentle. He’d hear you even across the room. “Ok. Come back safe.”

Some of his tension eased at your agreement, and he slowed where he’d been opening up his suit, preparing to step into it. Had he really thought you’d fight him? 

“I…” He shook his head after a moment. He turned until you could see him in profile, that same red light now highlighting the dark, bruised shadows beneath his eyes. But for just a moment, there was the barest softening in his expression, a glimmer of warmth in his eyes. You knew this look, this hand stretched out through the bars of the darkened prison cell he’d found himself trapped within. “I love you,” he said softly. “So much. I shouldn’t have snapped. I’m sorry.” 

“I know. Don’t worry about me for now. We’ll work it out. Just be careful tonight.” You tilted your head as he took a few tentative steps towards you. You took your own small step, cautious like you were approaching a stray who might run if you moved too quickly. He lifted his hand once you were within reach, the back of his fingers stroking lightly, tenderly against your cheek. You turned and brushed your lips fondly against his fingers, your eyes fluttering shut as you soaked in the warmth of his skin. It was the most intentional touch you’d gotten from him in a week, outside those moments in his sleep when he held you close, and god, were you grateful for it, something in you easing at the return of his affection. It meant he was coming out of this, swimming back up to the light and out of the void he’d been lost in. Sometimes you wondered if him denying himself your touch wasn’t just another way he punished himself when his darker thoughts seized hold of him. “I love you, too.”

“Go back to bed, sweetheart.” He tipped your chin up so he could place a tired kiss on your forehead before he let you go and returned to his suit. His motions, at least, seemed more settled now. “I’ll be back in an hour if it’s quiet, I promise. I’ll find a way to make it up to you this weekend.”

You left him there in the living area, more content than you’d felt in weeks. Sure, the past month had been shit for you both, but you were coming out of it now just like always. You fell asleep comfortably with that knowledge, cradling it inside you against your heart as you drifted off. 

You weren’t sure what it was that woke you later. Not at first, anyway. The bedroom was dark and quiet, save for the usual sounds of the city at night that leaked in through the closed windows. Matt’s arms weren’t around you, but it was possible he hadn’t gotten back yet. Without any other signs of danger, you gave a soft huff of irritation. Figures. Waking up over nothing. You shifted your head around on the pillow until you found a nice cold spot, closed your eyes, and began to drift back off. 

Then you heard it again behind you.  

Your brow furrowed, eyes blinking back open.

Right, now you knew it wasn’t just a dream. 

The sound you’d heard wasn’t quite a moan. It wasn’t a word, either. Hell, you didn’t know what to call it, exactly, but it definitely wasn’t a happy noise, that much you knew. This sounded… almost pained, hitched and edged with something like panic. You blearily rolled over to get a better look, still half-asleep.

Apparently Matt had gotten back while you were asleep, the shadowy outline of him curled up on the opposite side of the bed. He was also facing away from you, which was… odd. Most nights, he slept with you in his arms—or him in yours on particularly bad nights. That he’d either consciously or unconsciously placed this much distance between you would have stirred the smoldering embers of worry if you’d been more awake. It wasn’t right that he was over ther, curled in on himself, small and isolated, a lonely island in the sea of silk sheets. As you watched, he twitched restlessly, before making that same small, pained noise you’d heard before. Or was it scared? 

Nightmare, you thought sleepily. That explained the distance. He’d probably just rolled away in his sleep. You yawned, untangling yourself enough from your cocoon of blankets that you start crawling over towards him. Clearly this was one of those nights when he was the one that needed to be held. You weren’t entirely sure why your presence helped to soothe his nightmares, but for whatever reason, your arms around him and your breathing against his back, your heartbeat pressed against his back, was often all he needed. Even if he woke up when you got over to him, he’d have an easier time falling back asleep with you holding him. He always did. Especially after such a terrible month. 

You yawned again when you finally settled down behind him, throwing one arm over his waist and spooning affectionately up against his back. He stirred slightly at that, his body going tense and hard, his chest resonating with a soft growl. But he quickly quieted, soothed at the sound of your voice.

“It’s ok, Matt,” you said sleepily, breathing slowly, intentionally against the hard line of his back. “You’re ok, sweetheart. Just a bad dream.” You tucked your legs up behind his, nuzzling over onto his pillow, hunting for him even as your eyes fell shut again. You’d kick yourself later, for what you did next. 

Without thinking, you leaned in… and brushed a firm kiss against the back of his neck. 

Just like that, the peace, the calm was shattered. 

A wild snarl filled the air, followed by a sudden, blinding explosion of pain across your face that lit up the black behind your eyes like a skyline of fireworks. Before you could even cry out, you’d been thrown clear of the bed. You only just avoiding cracking your temple on the corner of Matt’s nightstand. But what your head missed, the rest of your body didn’t. As you slid across the nightstand and came crashing to the ground, you brought down every last object on the nightstand with you, glass and metal shattering somewhere far away from where you were, the whole of the world gone thick and quiet. 

Things got fuzzy then, a sickening carnival maze of light spinning in your vision every time you blinked. Your dazed thoughts were thick, slow to come together. But, still, you tried, because something was very, very wrong. 

Matt. 

Yes. You needed to find Matt. He was probably out on the streets still. It was the only way someone could have broken in just to hit you like an asshole. You weren’t sure where you were crawling too exactly, but away from the threat felt like a good start. As you moved, something hot and wet began to pour down your face in steady streams, irritating and coppery whenever it made it into your mouth. Fortunately, that was a distant problem. You could worry about whatever was on your face later. Your only concern at the moment was holding your attacker off until Matt could get here and kick some fucking ass. 

A pair of feet slammed against the floor, someone calling out, panicked and frantic. The sound was far too garbled for you to understand it immediately, but what it did tell you was that your attacker was still close by. There wasn’t anything around you that you could easily use to defend yourself, or at least, there wasn’t until your hand bumped into something long and metallic. You snatched it up, ignoring the sudden appearance of pain in your palm as you did so. You dragged it with you, metal squealing across the floorboards as you scrambled on your hands and knees. In seconds, you’d made it out of the bedroom and into the living area. 

Good. When Matt came through the rooftop door, he’d have less distance to cross to get to you. You’d also be able to see your attacker better in the flash of the billboard lights, though the flashing sea of red light made your eyes water and burn. But you could also feel your vision clearing, which was great. You’d need it. 

A shaking, trembling hand brushed against your shoulder. 

You rose up swiftly on your knees, metal rod clutched tight in both hands. “Get away from me!” you snarled, putting every last ounce of strength you had into your motion as you twisted and swung. 

And Matt—

What?

—snapped his hand up, catching the lamp rod just before it could hit him in the face. 

“...Matt?” you asked shakily, unable to hide your confusion. “It was you?”

“This can’t be happening, no, no no no,” he choked out tearfully, his breath coming panicked and wild. His tone was so ragged you almost didn’t recognize the voice as his. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re bleeding, I-I’m sorry, I’m so—”

The lamp rod fell from your paired grips. Hands shaking, he brought them up tentatively towards your face. He stopped just before he could touch you, hovering them a breath away from your skin. The first of his tears began to trail down his cheeks, his expression twisting in what you alarmingly recognized as grief. You’d seen him cry before, but never like this. “God, I-I didn’t know it was you, I’m sorry, I thought you were…”

He was… apologizing. But that didn’t make sense, no matter how much you tried to force the idea to settle into your dazed mind. It couldn’t have been Matt. You weren’t afraid of Matt. Matt didn’t hurt you. He didn’t hit you. Those were facts, as irrefutable as gravity, as reliable as the rise and the fall of the sun. You didn’t understand, just like you didn’t understand why he wasn’t holding you. He always did when you were hurt. “You… you hit me?”

The low, agonized noise he made was inhuman. It was the sound of a wounded animal, of someone who’d just been carved open. His hands drew back from your face, dropping down towards your hands where they’d settled on your thighs, though he seemed just as hesitant to touch you there. Tears dripped down from his face, joining the droplets of thick, deep red now scattered across the floor. Had you left all fo that there? You really… were bleeding, weren’t you?

“I-I… I didn’t mean to, I swear I didn’t,” he whispered brokenly, his breath hitching with what was almost a whimper. He grabbed one of the blankets off the chair next to him, the one you loved to curl up under with him. He slid it as gently as he could around one of your hands—oh, you were bleeding there, too, just a little, goddamn cheap lamp—though he avoided allowing his skin to brush against yours. “I was… having a nightmare, and I thought-I thought you were someone else, they had you and I was trying to-to get to you but someone grabbed me and I—God, you have a concussion, your nose is-is bleeding. I have to call Claire, get away from you b-before I… I’m sorry, sweetheart, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry—”

Finally, the idea settled into your mind, the world abruptly righting itself. 

The nightmare.

Well, that made sense.

You still weren’t quite thinking right, thoughts thick and fuzzy like wisps of cotton, a massive, throbbing ache in your head and face that only got worse every time the billboard lit up. But you you’d been right. Matt didn’t hit you. He hadn’t hit you, because he hadn’t known it was you. Hell, he’d even apparently been trying to save you, at least in his nightmare. It seemed simple enough to you, an obvious accident. But it didn’t seem quite so simple to Matt. You reached for his cheek. “Matt,” you soothed, your words only a tiny bit slurred as he sniffled and wrapped the blanket tighter around your hand, applying firm pressure to stop the bleeding. “It’s ok, Matt. You didn’t mean it.”

But the second your fingertips brushed against his skin, he threw himself backwards and out of your reach, his dark eyes wild. “Don’t!” he spat.  You faltered just a little, suddenly unsure. But you quickly shook it off, shakily climbing to your feet to follow after him. Your own injuries felt secondary in that moment, because this… this was the wound, the disaster that might do you both in if you didn’t find some way to stop it. Your bloody nose and hand could wait. “You didn’t mean it, Matt. It was an accident.” 

For every step you took forward, he took one back, the two of you performing some twisted, heartbreaking sort of dance across the floor. Eventually you cornered him against the wall, hemming him in. He was almost shaking as you stepped in close. Your hand rose and this time around, you successfully managed to cup his jaw, trying to press your affection, your calm into his skin. “Easy, Devil-Man. I’m ok,” you murmured. You swiped one thumb over the trail of tears sliding down his cheek, a new one appearing each time you’d cleared away the last, an endless stream of them falling from his grief-stricken eyes as they darted sightlessly around you. “This wasn’t your fault. Help me get cleaned up and then we’ll talk about it, ok?” 

He hitched a soft, quiet breath when you tugged his head down, his forehead pressed to yours like he’d done for you so many times before. You breathed with him for a moment, trying to ease him down.  He swallowed hard, his eyes fluttering closed as you stroked your thumb against his cheek, and for a moment, you almost thought you’d managed to fix it. 

A breath. 

His jaw clenched, and your heart sank.

This time when his eyes opened, all traces of warmth in them were gone. Whatever door you’d once pried open was now shut, slammed resoundingly in your face. “No. It’s not ok.” He brushed your hand away, sliding out from between you and the wall without so much as a pause. He reached up to wipe away his tears, the motion sharp and edged with tension. “Where are you going?” “I need to call Claire to come look you over,” he said flatly, heading for the kitchen. “I’ll use my burner. Mine was on the… the nightstand.” The brief crack in his voice, a brittle chip in the armor he’d just tried to throw up around himself, only confirmed what you’d hoped you could avoid.

“Matt,” you said softly. “Don’t lock me out like this.”

He may have been aiming for calm but he couldn’t hide what he was feeling, not entirely anyway. Not when his hands were still trembling as he felt around on the kitchen counter, acting like he hadn’t heard you. “I’ll call Foggy, too. Once they’re here, I’ll go.” 

“What?” You watched in disbelief as he kept hunting along the counter. With every second that passed and he failed to find it, he grew more frustrated, more angry. He quickly turned his back to you, body stiff like he was expecting a sudden blow. “You’re you’re leaving me?” “I hit you,” he spat viciously, another seething wave of emotion bubbling up through the cracks of his voice like acid, bitter and toxic and just as liable to burn. Here it was, here it was: the self-loathing, the disgust, the burning hatred. He drew in a sharp breath, shivering as he did. And on the exhale, he seemed to have regained control. His voice rapidly returned to that same cold, emotionless monotone, though he kept his face out of your view. Whatever expression he had would give him away, you were certain of it. “I almost broke your nose. You have a concussion. You cut yourself trying to get away from me. I’ve put men in the hospital for a lot less. You’re not safe with me—”

“That’s horseshit,” you huffed, starting towards him on wobbly legs. You had to stop and grab one of the chairs just to keep your balance and halt you from pitching over onto the floor. Not that it was a concern; no matter how upset Matt was, he’d catch you. But still, you falling would only make things worse. You forced yourself to breathe through the roiling in your stomach, unsure if it was the concussion that was making you nauseous or simply the knowledge that he was trying to leave you. But you wouldn’t let those fucking voices in his mind—ones that probably sounded like Stick—drive him away from you. Not without a fight. At least your nose seemed to have stopped bleeding. That was a good sign. “It was an accident. We both know it. This just—it happens something with nightmares, including non-vigilantes, Matt. I’ve woken up scared and smacked you in the face more than once, and you know it.” 

“You didn’t throw me across a nightstand or give me a concussion.” He barked out a bitter laugh. The hateful sound filled you with dread, as did the heartbreaking resolve beneath it. He’d already made up his mind, convinced himself of what he’d done. “I always knew. That’s what they all said. That I was cursed. That I had the Devil inside me. That all I wanted was to hit someone. This is who I am. I wanted to believe it wasn’t true, but deep down, I knew. And now I hurt you. I can’t let that happen again, even if it means I have to leave to keep you safe.” 

“Matt,” you said desperately, managing to make it to the couch, bracing yourself against the arm of it. If you could just get to him, you could fix this. You knew that. “That’s not true. Let’s just talk about this.”

Matt ignored you again, snatching up his keys and starting towards the hall. “I can’t find my burner,” he said. That tone, flat and empty of all feeling, was so much worse than anger. You’d take anger any day—you’d take grief, or hurt. Emotion meant you had a way in, that he’d opened himself to you, baring all the parts of him left vulnerable and raw. This tone, though…You couldn’t help but feel like you were banging your bloodied fists against a door abruptly chained shut. “Keep pressure on your hand. I’m going next door to ask for their phone so I can call Claire. I’ll only be gone for a minute, then I’ll be back. I’ll find somewhere else to stay once she’s here to take care of you.”

No. 

No, he couldn’t leave you over an accident. Your heart rate shot up, rattling against the lump in your throat. You almost felt like you couldn’t breathe, panic crushing your lungs in their grip, something that made him him stiffen. And you-you couldn’t let him leave, not like this, not when he might not come back. There had to be something, some way to reach him and keep him from destroying, burning down the best thing in both of your lives. And there was only one method that might work in a moment like this.  

Holding up a mirror.

“I’m sorry,” you breathed. 

And Matt… froze in the hall, a mere three steps from the front door. 

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, more firmly now. You didn’t bother to hide the waver in your voice. You drew in a slow breath, exhaling just as slowly. It wasn’t blood running down your face, now, and he’d know it. “I’m sorry for scaring you. For touching your neck in your sleep. I know how vulnerable it is, and how you feel about it being touched by anyone other than me. I didn’t think about what touching that might feel like during a nightmare.” 

“Stop apologizing,” he growled, his shoulders drawing up tight. “They’re not the same thing, and you know it.”

But despite his objections, he hadn’t moved. He hadn’t left yet. Hell, maybe he’d found he couldn’t. Not when you were injured. You’d take it if it meant you had a chance.

“Aren’t they the same?” You reached up with your good hand, sniffling a little as you wiped some of the blood off your face. “According to you, they are. It doesn’t matter what I meant to do, right? Just that I did something that led to me hurting you. And this is hurting you. I can tell.” You choked out a wobbly laugh when he flinched. You used that break in his armor to edge closer, praying you didn’t stumble and fall, losing the ground you’d just gained. “Do you remember when I slipped and dropped that bowl last month and it shattered and cut your feet?” 

“That’s not—”

“I had to pick shards of porcelain out of your poor bare feet. I felt horrible.” Another step. Then another. “Remember when I smacked you in the face during my nightmare last January? Split your lip and everything.” You caught one hand against the shelving unit by the hall, taking a split second to breathe, more tired than you wanted to admit. “You told me those weren’t my fault. You even fucking laughed about your lip. But if this accident is your fault, then all those times are my fault, and so is this one, if you think about it. So I’m sorry, Matt.”  

“I hit you,” came his voice, trembling and uneven. You had a feeling those three small words were your target, spiraling on loop in his mind, their sharp edges tearing into him over and over again. His head slowly dropped, his body curling in on itself as you stopped a few feet away. He shuddered then, and without being able to see his face, you couldn’t tell if it was shame or just… hurt. “Don’t apologize when I hit you. I threw you across the room. I-I hurt you.” 

“Oh, Matt,” you whispered. You took another step, at last coming within touching distance where you might be able to reach him. “It was an accident, sweetheart. You didn’t mean it. You didn’t know it was me. But… but if you want to talk about hurting me, let’s talk about this here.” He stilled when he felt the first gentle touch of your hand against his back. Warm, unafraid, tender. 

“If you’re worried about hurting me, this is how you’d do it,” you said softly, trailing your fingers down the line of his spine with all the love you had in you. “By leaving, Matt. By leaving me here without you when I love you more than anything or anyone else in the world. Don’t do that to me. Please.” This time the sound he made was a broken sob, one hand rising up to fist in his hair. He sank slowly to the ground. You sank with him, winding your arms tight around him as he finally broke, shattering beneath the weight of his guilt. When he didn’t reject your touch, you quickly shifted around him, climbing into his lap. His arms found their way home around your waist, clinging to you tight as you rocked him in your arms, his face buried against your neck, tears flowing hot to join the blood still clinging to your skin. “I’m sorry.” His voice was thick with sorrow, each breath one he had to fight for.  “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I never wanted to hurt you, I don’t want to hurt you, I’m sorry—” “Listen to me. This was not your fault. I promise, baby,” you whispered, lifting his head to press your forehead to his like you had before. His eyes were shut, but they fluttered open just for you, as he finally, finally let you back in. You could almost see the torment swirling in them, the guilt, but that was alright. If you could see those shadows, you could fight them. “You were asleep, Matt. You were dreaming. You can’t control what your brain does then. If it thinks there’s a threat, it’s going to react without your input. Do you know how I can be so sure you won’t hurt me? How this all just proved I’m safe with you?” His blank gaze shifted around you, one shaking hand coming up to trace your smile in open disbelief. 

“Because the second you woke up, you were horrified.” You leaned into him, running the fingers of your good hand through his hair as he let out another shaky, breathless sob. “The second you woke up and realized it was me, it just broke you. You would never choose to hurt me, Matt. You're not a violent person, even if you've been taught to use it out there. A bad man doesn’t react like you did. A good man does. You are a good man, do you hear me? And if you leave?” You found his hand with your good one to lace your fingers together and squeeze, his eyes fluttering closed, as did yours. “I swear to God I’ll go stand in an alley in my pajamas and scream that until you have to come protect me from every mugger in the Kitchen. Which will only prove my point that you’d never let anything or anyone hurt me.”  He choked out a quiet, watery laugh, letting you bring his head back down to your throat. His tearful groan at the affection just made you cling to you tighter. “I love you,” he hitched out. “I love you. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… I’m so sorry. God forgive me, I’m so, so sorry.” 

“I love you, too, Matt,” you whispered, burying your face in his hair. “It’s not your fault. Don’t let your nightmare knock us out this easily. Get back up. Stay, and fight for me, for us. Can you do that for me?”

You felt his eyes fall closed, and for the first time since he’d woken up, you heard a different kind of resolve in his voice: one that was far more familiar, far more welcome, solid and warm and steadfast, a strength you’d happily build your life upon, as he let your love seep in through the cracks to at last chase away some of the dark.

His breath eased out against your skin, soft and familiar. “I… ok. I can do that.”

“Good.”