#i have several prompts in my inbox i will get to them please be patient with me i appreciate you all mwah

[lost-in-fandoms]

slept in braids 🫶🫶🫶

cw: mentions of explicit sexual content, both Max and Daniel are girls

The other half of the bed is empty when Max wakes up, and she can hear the coffee machine she only keeps for Daniel and for guests spluttering to life in the kitchen.

She takes one moment to breathe in the scent of sex and Daniel still permeating the sheets before she gets up, tugging a discarded t-shirt over her underwear, giving up the search for a bra even before starting it, part laziness and part wishful thinking.

Daniel doesn't notice her when she walks in the kitchen, too busy looking for a mug in Max's cupboards, as if she's not here almost every day of the week, and Max is free to pause and just look at her.

She's not wearing a shirt, her curly hair bunched in two sleep-mussed braids brushing her naked shoulders, the muscles of her back tensing as she goes on her tiptoes to look in yet another wrong cabinet. She must have stolen a pair of underwear from Max's drawers, because the lacy thong Max had taken off her the night before was still on the bedroom floor, and she doubts Daniel would ever own such a simple pair of black panties.

Even if she probably should, because they make her ass look great.

"You're being a creep."

Daniel's voice startles her from her vague daydreams of getting to her knees right there in the kitchen and eat her out while she drinks her coffee, and she feels herself blush, barely able to keep her expression under control as Daniel finally turns around, steaming cup of coffee in her hand.

She's smiling, one unruly curl escaping her braids to brush her cheek, and Max still feels the sticky taste of her under her tongue.

Once again, just like she had done the night before, she decides to take the plunge, walking towards Daniel and stopping only when their chests brush, naked skin against cotton, her hands bracketing Daniel's hips against the counter.

"Good morning." Her voice is still scratchy with sleep and dehydration, and if there was anything else inside Daniel's cup she would steal it. She resolves to kiss her instead.

Their kiss tastes like stale breath and coffee and Max wants to drown in it. She hears the clink of the mug being placed on the marble surface, the only warning she gets before one of Daniel's hands finds its way in her short hair and the other on her ass.

"Good morning, Maxy," Daniel mumbles against her mouth, lips curving up in a smile before opening, letting Max in.

Her hand slides down to her cheek, her shoulder, and Max's breath is already ragged. She pinches her nipple through her shirt, stealing Max's moan from her lips, before going down further, hooking her thumb on her underwear and stopping.

Max wants to beg her to keep going, wants her fingers inside her. She wants to kiss her until she can't breathe anymore, wants to taste her skin until she knows what each and every one of her tattoos feel like under her tongue, wants to see her come again and again.

She wants to say yes to the unspoken question Daniel's fingers are still posing, paused above her underwear.

But.

She pulls back, doesn't dare open her eyes quite yet.

"What is this, Daniel?"

She can't handle asking what are we, not when she's been the one to close the space between them twice already. If Daniel makes a joke out of it, if she says this is called having sex, Maxy, she knows she'll go with it. She will come now and let herself nurse her broken heart later, but for once Daniel doesn't joke.

She sighs, taking both her hands away, slightly pushing Max back to grab her coffee again, steaming shield between them.

Max opens her eyes, forcing her body to remember how to wear a mask of indifference she hasn't had to use around Daniel for a very long time.

"You know I don't do serious, Maxy," Daniel says, almost apologetic. There's a flicker of something in her face that makes Max want to call her a liar, to tell her that she could just try it out, just this once, just for Max.

But Daniel doesn't do serious, and Max doesn't do casual, and this was a mistake from the moment Max had said you know I like you the night before and Daniel had answered by climbing right into her lap.

She takes a step back, nodding, hoping her smile looks real enough to hide the splinters of her bleeding heart.

"I'm going to take a shower."

She ignores Daniel's half aborted move, refusing to think that she would try to hold her back, and leaves the room, coffee taste on her tongue growing salty with unshed tears.

[drghostwrite]

I just read ur Arizona fic and yesss I love it, I love Arizona but why isn’t there more Arizona fics tho?! :’(

Can I ask for Arizona x reader with the prompts "Just put the [weapon] down, I'm not going to hurt you." With like the reader protecting the peds area and especially protecting Arizona During the ‘u know what’ episode (🔫 ) And idk a fluff prompt because why are ur prompts all so good I can’t choose. And please angst but fluffy ending😭 I hope ur doing well and keeping yourself healthy! <3

Omg yea, I’m so sorry that I missed this in my inbox but here it is and I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Arizona Robbins x reader

Summary: above, but basically during the you know what and reader is being a scary protective wifey lol

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

Bang!

You heard a shot ring out and then another and another, you hit the floor behind the large nurses station, watched as people ran out hearing sneakers squeak on the floor. You sat waiting listening your ears straining to hear anything more after people cleared out you came out from under the desk. You knew Arizona had no idea what was going on, she had got out of surgery and was now it peds helping her tiny humans.

you turned making your way to the atrium, you could hear talking and looked up seeing the gunman standing there, you heard another shot ring out watching Derek hit the ground and then you listened as you could hear another voice and higher, fragile voice… it was Kepner begging for her life.

You raced to the stairwell knowing you had to make it to your wife before the psycho with the gun could, you heart raced as you ran up the stairs your legs burning as you propelled yourself forward, after several bounding flights you burst through the door running down the winding hallway.

you ran past a patient room and that’s when you saw her the blonde hair whipping around, you quickly backtracked and burst through the door.

“Y/N?!”

“Arizona, thank God.” You breathed a sigh of relief as she approached you and you pulled her into a hug.

“what’s going on? Y/N I heard…”

“gunshots it was gunshots… Derek and a few others have gone down…”

“What…” she whispered.

“Yea we need to get out of here…”

“I can’t a lot of these kids can’t be moved, Y/N we’re sitting ducks.”

“no… I’ll figure this out just keep them calm we’ll get through this., I’ll be right back.”

“Wait Y/N no…”

“I’ll be right back…I promise.” You looked into her ice blue eyes, kissing her lips before turning and running back out and down the hall, you made your way to the front of the pediatric floor the desk where the shooter would have to make his way through. You picked up the phone and started dialing but not before you heard the shuffling of shoes, looking up you saw the glint of the barrel standing not 10 feet in front of you.

“put the phone down…” he spoke almost in a calm manner.

“okay… okay…” you reached back over the desk hanging up the phone, surrendering your hands in the air. “Just put the gun down, I’m not goi to hurt you, I won’t try anything…” You saw the wound oozing blood from his shoulder, you eyes scanned him from the blood running onto his hand to the way his gun shook as if it was becoming to heavy.

“Are you a surgeon?”

“I-I…”

“ARE you a surgeon?!” He got more stern.

“Yes I am.”

“So how does it feel?… how does it feel to hold lives in your hands and now you’re standing here watching me as I decided what to do with yours.”

“I don’t hold lives in my hands… I save them, I take patients… no not patients... people and I save their lives I give them another chance to live an-and to love, I give people another chance... I'm no God”

“That was taken from my wife… your chief took that from me, he pulled the plug as if she was just another device in the room, killing her taking her from me.”

"Mr.Clark, You're Gary Clarke your wife came in and had brain surgery she was a patient of Dr. Shepard, I remember her case..."

"You remember?" he asked tears coming to his eyes, the gun starting to lower, but before you could continue Arizona ran in seeing the standoff happening, "Wait, wait..."

"Arizona, no...

"You can't do this... There's only children here... you can't do this." she spoke, her voice breaking tears running down her face.

"Who are you?!" He said raising the gun at her.

"NO, no..." you said pulling her behind you, sheilding her with your body.

"Is she a surgeon too?"

"Sh-she is... she's also MY wife, this is the woman I love..."

"They took my wife."

"I know, I know but I'm asking you... Mr. Clark I'm asking you to spare my wife, the mother of my children...err my future children... I want to live a life with her by my side..." You watched as SWAT filled the hall behind him, "I want to travel and show her how much I love her and that she deserves so much better than me..." before he could make a move or you could say another word you heard gun shots and glass shattering, you turned shielding Arizona, you could hear boots stomping in behind you.

As you pulled apart you could hear the chaos around you but you were too focused on the concerned face of your wife, your expression changed from relief to pain when you felt her quickly press her hand to your abdomen.

"Arizona?"

"Y/-Y/N you've been shot... Oh my God you've been shot." you looked down at her hand applying pressure, blood leaking through her fingers, your blood running down her wrist.

"Y/N please no, please no... I can't lose you."

"Arizona?"

"No, God why did you have to be such an idiot, I shouldn't have let you walk out of that room, you'd be safe and with me."

"Arizona I-I ca-an't" your eyes started to flutter and your legs felt weak, the last thing you remembered was hitting the floor and watching as she scrambled, she yelled at the SWAT team trying to get help, any help and then as your eyes closed you could see her above you.

---12 hours later---

You felt a pressure holding your hand and felt tear drops as they hit your arm. you moved your fingers wrapping them around her hand feeling both of her hands tighten around you.

"Y/N?

"Arizona, baby"

"Oh my God Y/N you're awake, I thought I lost you."

"You can't loose me, you're stuck with me for life remember."

"For life?" she said holding you so tightly yet she was so gentle as if she would lose you.

"Forever and Always."

"Forever and Always." she repeated, she was still so gentle with you as if in a moment you would fade away.

"Love I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere, I'm right here, with you."

"I-I thought..." she looked at you and then your lips, leaning in ghosting so close to you, you could feel her breath on your lips.

"You won't break me," you said closing your eyes, she leaned forward making contact, lips on lips. when you pulled apart you moved over the best you could and motioned for her to climb up with you, she laid on her side placing her head on your chest, and you wrapped her in your arms.

"I really thought I was going to lose you, I thought that was it."

"I swear to you Arizona I will always be here for you, I will always fight for you... for us, I will always love you."

[tagsecretsanta]

From @mariashades

From @mariashades to @the-original-sineater

Someone Familiar 

Prompts- 

1. A familiar looking stranger.

2. A mistake at the zoo.

3. SCIENCE!!

Preferences: Rating Teen or Gen

Favorite Genres: Hurt/Comfort, Angst (happy ending please), Family, Fluff, Romance okay, Shipping is okay

Please, NO: Parody or crackfic, Brandon Berringer is NOT welcome

Someone Familiar 

“If I let go, I'm almost certain he'll take off without the aid of a Thunderbird,” was Penny's fondly amused thought as she and Gordon endured the usual crowd of photographers and news crews who had gotten wind of their invitation to the opening of the new rehabilitation facility at the Monterey Bay Aquarium. After getting the forwarded invitation in her email inbox (it had been titled ‘Penny!!!!! Penny!Penny!Penny! Loooooookkkkk!!!!) she had been worried the inevitable paparazzi might dampen his enthusiasm, but she clearly had nothing to worry about. 

There were more waiting inside, but they’d been invited after careful screening, this pack outside hadn't been, so there wasn't any real obligation to give them any attention. 

They did of course - like it or not, she and Gordon were a power couple like no other - and throwing a few smiles and waves to the press kept them on side.

At last they were through the swarm, shepherded by Parker, Kayo and her security team, and into the aquarium proper. Holding his arm as she was, Penny could feel his excitement increase as the director, Doctor Jo Crawford, came forward to meet them and she was so very pleased by it. 

“Mister Tracy, Lady Penelope, thank you again for coming to the opening of our new rehabilitation facility,” Doctor Crawford smiled as she offered her hand. 

“Thanks for inviting us, Doctor Crawford!” Gordon chirped back. “Call me Gordon, ‘mister’ is for my biggest brother,” he grinned. “Oh! Have you seen that new paper about leafy sea dragon skin?” 

It seemed safe enough to let go so she did, leaving the two marine biologists to talk while she mixed with the other guests: representatives for several wildlife rescue organisations and advocates and two nature show presenters who had their own film crews with them. 

A quick, unobtrusive exchange with Parker confirmed that everyone present were whom they said they were, and she relaxed enough to have a little chat with the local news reporter (who somehow hadn't been pulled and replaced by a higher ranking one when word got out about herself and Gordon attending). “I'll be kind,” she decided as she talked to the jittery journalist, “he's so overawed and trying so hard to hide it.” 

At last the mix and mingle time was over and Doctor Crawford was herding them all into the new wing. Penelope was very impressed by it all. She’d done some research in preparation for this trip (that wasn't Gordon doing an excited info-dump as he waxed lyrical about this and that) and the facilities at the new wing were top notch. Different tanks for different sized creatures, a range of hoists and slings for manoeuvring the bigger or more awkwardly-shaped ones, modular treatment platforms in the medical centre, a food preparation area that a Michelin chef would have been proud of, and a state of the art decontamination area with a truck-based mobile wildlife decontamination facility- ‘We call it our Thunderbird Two’ Doctor Crawford had grinned as she said that, pointing to a little decal on the driver's door of Two's silhouette, painted in the appropriate shade of green. 

“Sadly not all of our patients can go back into the wild,” Doctor Crawford said as they came around through to the attached education area, which had several large tanks and habitats backing onto it. “So they come here to be animal ambassadors and help us educate the next generation on the importance of caring for our marine environment.” 

A metre-long green sea turtle fitted with prosthetic front flippers and a shell that'd clearly been glued back together chose this moment to nose up to the open-topped perspex tank and peer out at them. 

“Ah, perfect timing, here's our newest ambassador now!” Doctor Crawford exclaimed and beckoned them over. “Gordon, would you like to come over and say hi? I'm not sure if you recognise her, but you saved her about six months ago.” 

“At the plane crash in Costa Rica?” Gordon asked, his eyes wide. 

Penny remembered that one, it'd been bad. A cargo plane carrying dangerous goods had gotten into difficulties and crash landed on a remote beach, spilling its load in the process and killing or injuring a good many sunbathing green sea turtles, as well as endangering the coral reef. Gordon had hauled several of the surviving turtles into Two's module while John had made a bevy of phone calls to figure out what on earth they could do to help with the equipment they had to hand until the experts arrived.

“I remember her! I didn't think she'd make it!” Gordon went on to say, looking between the turtle and the director, clearly wanting to reach into the tank and give the turtle a pet. 

“She almost didn't, but the local wildlife rescue had heard about the new facility here and we arranged to transfer her here.” Doctor Crawford explained. 

“What is her name?” Penelope asked, coming closer to get a better look at the turtle. 

“Well, it was quite a hot debate here at the aquarium, but Thunderbird Five contacted us with a suggestion,” Doctor Crawford smiled. “Gordon Tracy, I'd like to introduce you to Lucille.” 

[reiderwriter]

Hey, quick question about requests/requesting etiquette. I sent you a request to you a few months ago and it hasn't gotten a story. (Which is okay, obviously. They are requests not demands.) Would you mind if I sent the same prompt to another author? I know it is considered rude to send the same request to several different authors, but I really liked the prompt.

Hi! I'm still in the process of writing requests, so I likely have your request planned. If you want me to delete it so you can ask someone else to write it, then let me know which one it is!

My inbox was only open for a few weeks last time, but I got a lot of requests, and it's taken a while to get through them all. I only deleted some duplicates, so hopefully there wasn't an inbox mistake and I do hope to get through everything soon.

Just a word of advice though, though, because you're asking here, I'm sure you're already aware: most if not all writers do not want duplicate requests that you sent to multiple fanfic writers. I've rejected many over the last few months, and just to know that it was someone's second or third choice writer sometimes feels a little disheartening.

I understand you like the prompt, please just be patient with me, or we can discuss withdrawing the request altogether if that suits you better!!

[melodygatesauthor]

Hello everyone!

For anyone who cares about what I have in the works, and why I am choosing to close my requests temporarily, please read below the cut!

NOTE: This doesn't change current requests I have in my queue. If you have requested something prior to today I will still be working on it. See the list of requests pending below.

Currently in progress chaptered/longfics I have:

A Bit Dodgy (prof!Steven Grant X f!Reader) - In Progress, no estimated end date currently.

Currently Pending one-shot requests I have:

(listed in the order I am completing them)

Unnamed - (Santi X f!Reader) - Santi w/ Breeding kink

Unnamed - Lovers to Enemies (Jake Lockley X f!Reader)

Unnamed - (Orderly Blue Jones X f!patient!Reader) - Somno

Unnamed - (Steven Grant X f!Reader) - Layla confrontation

Unnamed - (Jake Lockley X f!Reader) - Daughter of a criminal boss - Jake is a driver

Several Blue Jones prompts that I'd like to do :)

(As of May 7, 2023 there's even more!)

This isn't meant to make anyone feel bad for requesting, but I've just reached the point where I have to cut it of because I can't get my own ideas out there fast enough AND keep up with all the great ideas you guys are bringing to me.

It doesn't help that I started a new job in addition to the one I already had so I just can't churn out work the way I used to.

I'll be reopening them again once I am down to less than 5 works. I enjoy working on requests, I really do, it's just hard to balance what I want to do, and what you guys want at the same time.

MY INBOX IS ALWAYS OPEN THOUGH - feel free to throw thots at me, pics of yours and my favorite characters, or whatever you want! Love you all so so so much <3

Thank you all for understanding!

[vocesincaput]

VOCES IN CAPUT

Mutuals Only multimuse for TURN: WASHINGTON'S SPIES, OUR FLAG MEANS DEATH, BLACK SAILS, ASSASSIN'S CREED, KINGSMAN, SHERLOCK HOLMES, GOOD OMENS, DOCTOR WHO, MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE, HORNBLOWER & AGE OF SAIL. Featuring both canon & original characters.

NON-RP BLOGS : DO NOT INTERACT WITH ANY POSTS!

MUSE LIST // ASK // MEMES

Mun & muses are 21+. WRITTEN BY : Shelley.​ ICON BORDER BY : @calisources.

RULES

(Rules are below the cut).

Muns inspiration can vary from time to time and sometimes she can only get herself to reply to certain threads/asks/muses/muns. This is in no way a reflection of you or your muses & is solely down to mun. Mun cannot force herself to reply to something as it will cause her to lose interest and inspiration in more things. We are all here for fun after all.

FOLLOWING / INTERACTING

This multimuse is mutuals only.

If they are not following you back, there will not be interactions, sorry. Please respect this.

If there is a mutual follow, then they definitely want to interact with you. If you do not have a rules page, mun will not follow back.

NON-RP BLOGS & NON MUTUALS : DO NOT INTERACT WITH WISHLIST AND IN CHARACTER POSTS.

DISLIKES / TRIGGERS

Mun will not rp with any comic/animated/game characters unless they use a non-animated FC. There may be some very limited exceptions. But only if mun chooses.

Due to the nature of the shows/films/games that the muses on this blog are from, there will be triggering content found within. Mun will do their best to tag triggers, but some may still be missed (not intentionally). If something triggers you, or you feel something should be tagged, please let mun know.

Though it is not triggering, mun has come to realise that sometimes sending memes whilst giving ideas/prompts on it causes my head to completely block any chance I have of answering the meme. I don't know why this makes it difficult for me, but it does. If we have a developed storyline between our muses, smaller ideas are okay.

Please refrain from sending large amounts of memes/asks from the same meme post. This is something mun used to be okay with but it now becomes quite overwhelming as I try to get through things in my inbox. Two to three at most should be okay, unless we have a fully developed verse/relationship between our muses. Then more is okay.

PHOBIAS

- moths (and to a lesser extent, butterflies).

( if you could tag any pictures of moths & butterflies with tw: moths & tw: butterflies, it would be greatly appreciated. )

SHIPPING & NSFW

All muses are 21+.

There will be no smut with any muses or muns below 21.

Please do not assume romantic or sexual relationships between my muse(s) and yours. If you have an idea for them, please contact me in an IM or ask. If there has been a canon relationship between the muses, we can discuss in IMs.

There will be nsfw content found within, which will all be tagged with ‘ns.fw’ ( and ns.fwish to a lesser extent). If mun misses something, please let them know so that it can be tagged.

None of my muses will participate in smut immediately with anyone. Mun prefers to have things to develop naturally.

WISHLISTS

If you would like to plot, do a starter or just talk about a wishlist idea I have for one of my muses, you will have to either comment, IM or send an Ask as my anxiety makes it extremely difficult to approach, even for these.

ABOUT MUN

Muns name is Shelley.

She/They.

Mun lives in England.

Both mun and all muses are 21+.

Mun has a special needs daughter who is autistic with severe learning difficulties. If muns daughter takes her away from Tumblr, please be patient.

Mun is autistic (diagnosed January 2021) & is still learning about what that means for her. Please be patient with them. She also has undiagnosed ADHD.

Mun has a condition called ’hypermobility syndrome’ which affects all ligaments in their body.

[vocesmcu]

PINNED POST

SELECTIVE & MUTUALS ONLY multimuse for the MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE (& it's Tv Series). Featuring both canon & original characters.

NON-RP BLOGS : DO NOT INTERACT WITH WISHLIST AND IN CHARACTER POSTS.

Mun & muses are 21+. WRITTEN BY : Shelley.​

MUSE LIST

RULES

(Rules are below the cut).

Muns inspiration can vary from time to time and sometimes she can only get herself to reply to certain threads/asks/muses/muns. This is in no way a reflection of you or your muses & is solely down to mun. Mun cannot force herself to reply to something as it will cause her to lose interest and inspiration in more things. We are all here for fun after all.

FOLLOWING / INTERACTING

This multimuse is mutuals only.

If they are not following you back, there will not be interactions, sorry. Please respect this.

If there is a mutual follow, then they definitely want to interact with you. If you do not have a rules page, mun will not follow back.

NON-RP BLOGS & NON MUTUALS : DO NOT INTERACT WITH WISHLIST AND IN CHARACTER POSTS.

DISLIKES / TRIGGERS

Mun will not rp with any comic/animated/game characters unless they use a non-animated FC. There may be some very limited exceptions. But only if mun chooses.

Due to the nature of some of the shows/films that the muses on this blog are from, there will be triggering content found within. Mun will do their best to tag triggers, but some may still be missed (not intentionally). If something triggers you, or you feel something should be tagged, please let mun know.

Though it is not triggering, mun has come to realise that sometimes sending memes whilst giving ideas/prompts on it causes my head to completely block any chance I have of answering the meme. I don't know why this makes it difficult for me, but it does. If we have a developed storyline between our muses, smaller ideas are okay.

Please refrain from sending large amounts of memes/asks from the same meme post. This is something mun used to be okay with but it now becomes quite overwhelming as I try to get through things in my inbox. Two to three at most should be okay, unless we have a fully developed verse/relationship between our muses. Then more is okay.

PHOBIAS

- moths (and to a lesser extent, butterflies).

( if you could tag any pictures of moths & butterflies with tw: moths & tw: butterflies, it would be greatly appreciated. )

SHIPPING & NSFW

All muses are 21+.

There will be no smut with any muses or muns below 21.

Please do not assume romantic or sexual relationships between my muse(s) and yours. If you have an idea for them, please contact me in an IM or ask. If there has been a canon relationship between the muses, we can discuss in IMs.

There will be nsfw content found within, which will all be tagged with ‘ns.fw’ ( and ns.fwish to a lesser extent). If mun misses something, please let them know so that it can be tagged.

None of my muses will participate in smut immediately with anyone. Mun prefers to have things to develop naturally.

WISHLISTS

If you would like to plot, do a starter or just talk about a wishlist idea I have for one of my muses, you will have to either comment, IM or send an Ask as my anxiety makes it extremely difficult to approach, even for these.

ABOUT MUN

Muns name is Shelley.

She/They.

Mun lives in England.

Both mun and all muses are 21+.

Mun has a special needs daughter who is autistic with severe learning difficulties. If muns daughter takes her away from Tumblr, please be patient.

Mun is autistic (diagnosed January 2021) & is still learning about what that means for her. Please be patient with them. She also has undiagnosed ADHD.

Mun has a condition called ’hypermobility syndrome’ which affects all ligaments in their body.

[sublimecatgalaxy]

❄️ The Home of My Blog ❄️

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Welcome everyone!

I decided to make a nice, big post regarding everything on my blog. I figured I would stress myself out and take the time to make this for your guys ease and comfort.

Everything you could ever possibly find will be on this page, anywhere from my masterlist to my DNI list.

I want to take full advantage of this blog and use it for multipurpose reasons, the biggest percentage of it being dedicated to writing (duh).

Happy browsing and don't forget that my mailbox and ask box is always open to those with questions, taglist joiners, concerns, ideas or one who's in need of advice.

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List of Works: Blurbs, one-shots, multi-part works, and everything in between. This will most likely be updated on a regular basis, every few days, twice a week sometime around that time.

Prompt List: This is a list of different quotes and different situations/tropes that I created for you guys to pick from to hopefully make requesting things easier. All you have to do is copy and paste the quote and say with what character you want or you can just put the number next to the quote or situation.

Character List: All the people I write for, fiction and non-fiction from all types of works and genres. This will most likely be updated on a regular due to my fascination of new books, movies and television shows.

Little Bit About Me: This is just a little thing about my past with writing, my past in general, my pronouns, my relationship status. Things that if you wanna know, it's here, if not, I don't mind either.

Instagram- @ elizabeth.a.scott

Back Up Account- @sublimecatgalaxies

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Do Not Interact List:

Hello! Below you will find a list of things that I will not write, no questions asked. Please read this carefully before making requests.

Negative sexual situations- This includes rape, non-con, or anything revolving around mean/angry sexual situations, it's extremely triggering. Occasionally I will get bothered with writing smut as I am a victim of rape and sexual assault.

Anything too dark or bordering on abusive.

Threesomes- The only three-way/polyamorous relationship I write is steddie x reader.

Self harm, addiction or active eating disorders- I don’t have to explain this, it’s triggering and something that I, and a lot of people, struggle with. I don’t want to romanticize it by making an “x reader” revolving around an eating disorder, addiction or self harm. This will depend on how I'm feeling and what I'm experiencing so bare with me.

Suicidal ideation and/or vivid thoughts of suicide- I'm not in the right state of mind, ever, to write this so please do not request it. It makes me severely uncomfortable.

Anything yandere related

Cross Fandom Fics: Even with AUs, I like to stay wuthin the fandoms so this includes mashups of different fics.

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Request List Information:

Requests will close after my inbox has reached thirty requests. Even if that means requests are open for a day and a half, if it hits thirty, I will be closing them.

Do not send me a book of a request please. I like to have wiggle room to actually be creative but if you guys just send me paragraph after paragraph, it's hard to actually do anything with it, expand upon anything and it's so overwhelming.

Have your ideas ready to go when they're open and I will put out a notification telling everyone that they're back open when they are!

Please be patient with me in this realm, my life is very up and down and I try to keep up on it as best as possible.

Also. I don't do shoutouts.

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[writingmysanity]

Sunsets and grass stains

Prompt: March Daily Prompts

Day 4: Grass Green

Word count: 1316

Pairing: Eskel x reader

A/N: Second one for the day, because I forgot to post yesterdays ficlet yesterday, so I posted it today. Working on those prompts, I have several in my inbox- i'm going to show them all the proper love. Again, please be patient with me!!

As always, Unbeta'd so all mistakes are my own. (ya know, sometimes ima blame someone else for my mistakes in these xD)

A single voice echoes through the trees, many others rising with it, echoing the song back in tune. Laughter and happy chatter brighten the already fine day. Beaming, you look up at Eskel, nearly bouncing in place as you are tugged along by the witcher’s grip on your hand.

“Singing!” he just nods, quirking an eyebrow at you. It isn't the first time you've heard music and it certainly won't be the last. What made this so exciting?

Rolling your eyes, you swing your intertwined hands, making a face up at him.

“It's a festival, Eskel,” you state, grinning. “It's the spring solstice”

He just nods, glancing up at the way the sun filters through the canopy above.

“Ah,” he pauses “Do you want to attend?”

There is no pause before your head starts bobbing like an overly eager child, fingers tightening around his.

“Can we go? Really?” he softens, offering you a gentle smile.

“As you wish,” he hums, letting you lead him towards town. He only meant to visit the market, but seeing your excitement, he can't help but allow the infectious nature to fall over him as well. The town is covered in blooms, big and small, waves of colors sweeping the streets. Banners brilliantly painted with bright paints. Everyone is smiling as songs fill the air continuously, hardly a breath left silent, people dancing throughout the streets, laughter and excitement bubbling from everybody.

They don't even notice them both at first. He isn't exactly dressed like they associate with a witcher, but they know him quite well.

Bouncing up and down, you tug on his hand, looking up at him pleadingly.

“I want to dance.” he nods, motioning for you to go ahead. He doesn't miss the small frown before you are swept away by another woman, dissolving into a fit of giggles, falling into perfect sync with the other villagers.

It isn't long before you lose your shoes, spinning and skipping barefooted along the town's center. Your eyes find him every time you spin by him, a silent invitation he pretends to not notice, only smiling at you clapping along with the others in rhythm of the bard's tune as you dance.

He had to admit, the energy is infectious, but he doesn't dance. They didn't teach that in witcher training, that's for sure.

When you find yourself back at his side, you are panting but you are smiling, eyebright. He just smiles wrapping an arm around your waist, tugging you closer to let you lean against him for support.

“Having fun?” you nod, taking the pastry he offers. “Don't inhale it, Kit. enjoy it.” he teases, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. Your laugh is breathy, the sound making him shiver a bit, your eyes lidded as you look up at him with a dreamy smile.

“Thank you.” raising an eyebrow, he hums, taking a sip of his drink.

“For?”

“For coming to the festival with me, I know you aren't fond of crowds.” softening, he smiles, leaning down to peck your nose, grinning at how you scrunch your nose at him.

“Anything for you,” it is a promise.

Flushing, you shove the last of your sweet in your mouth, shuddering to watch as he wipes some berry juice from the corner of your mouth, sucking it off his finger, humming at the taste. He hides his grin at how your heart sputters, nose flaring at the sudden very sweet scent floods his senses, eyes closing for a second.

“Ready to head back?” he asks a second later, fingers flexing on your hip. Biting back a whine, you nod quickly, turning with him, ignoring the disappointment at not getting to dance with him today.

The walk back is quiet, at first.

“Why don't you dance?” you question, not accusing, but disappointed. Kicking a rock further up the path, Eskel shrugs.

“I've never been asked to before,” he admits, lips quirking to the side, indifferent to the topic. Frowning, you stop walking. It takes him a few more steps to realize you're no longer beside him.

“Kit?” his head tilts to the side, curls flopping over his shoulder. “What's wrong?”

“You've never been asked to dance?” you ask, ignoring his question. His nod is slow, unsure where this was going. Without thinking, your hand shoots out, laying out in the air. An invitation.

“Dance with me,” you ask gently, giving him the option to decline if he so wishes. He hesitates, hand sliding into yours.

“I'll be rotten at it,” he mumbles, his other hand raising to rub at the back of his neck. Any doubts he had melted away at your smile, brighter than the sun that had started to set.

“Don't worry, I'll show you.”

You lead him off the path into an open field just beyond the tree line, nearly plucked free of wildflowers by the locals for their festival, only stalks of grass left, lapping at your calves as you find a good place near the center of the clearing. It's far enough, so as to keep from prying eyes, for his sake, but close enough to town to still be able to hear the music. Shifting to stand before him, you hold your hands out for his.

He places his hands in yours immediately, allowing you to move him how you choose. Gently, you place one hand on your hip, shivering when his thumb sweeps over the bit of exposed skin there.

“Keep this here,” you instruct before lacing your fingers with his other hand, smiling up at him, smile faltering under his gaze. His eyes bore into yours, shadowed by the setting sun but somehow still brighter than anything you've ever seen, showing every emotion he swears he never had- love, joy, happiness… mainly love.

Clearing your throat, you focus on the way his hand feels in yours. It doesn't help, surprise surprise.

“What next?” he questions, voice soft.

“Follow my lead,” you grin, starting to hum the tune the bard is playing in town. Eskel lets you lead him, spinning him in gentle circles, a pliant partner. His eyebrows furrow in concentration, eyebrows furrowed as he tries to watch your feet between you.

“Shit,” he groans when he accidentally steps on your foot, barely earning a hiss of surprise. “I hurt you,” he panics starting to pull away. Tugging him back, you refuse to let him drop your hands.

“You're going to step on me some, you're learning.” you hum, tugging him closer again. He frowns.

“I don't want to hurt you”

“The pain was more surprise than anything, dearest, now, come here.” he does as told, hesitantly stepping closer, letting you maneuver him again, both arms wrapped around your waist, your arms moving to wrap around his neck. With your chest pressed against his, you can feel his heartbeat, the steady rhythm relaxing you.

“Maybe this will be easier for you,” you hum, laying your chin on his chest, eyeing him through your lashes, standing on your tiptoes, rocking you both gently. Chuckling, he leans down, lips brushing over yours gently, humming the tune against your lips.

You giggle at how his humming tickles your lips, nipping his in retaliation. Groaning softly, he lifts you slightly, sweeping your legs from beneath you before dropping to his knees, laying you out in the grass hovering over you. He takes a moment to stare, your dark hair a stark contrast to the grasses vibrant green in the red of the setting sun.

Slowly, you smile, fingers curling in his tunic, tugging.

“I'm waiting.” your impatient whisper makes him laugh as he lowers himself, his body eclipsing you from view completely.

“As you wish,” he breaths, lips crashing to yours with fever, earning a happy groan from your chest, your arms securing around him so he can't move.

“Damn right.”

--

Tag list: @errruvande @thesleepy1 @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @queenxxxsupreme @screechingdreamercollectorsblog @open--till--midnight @one-eyed-captain-kinky @seidenbros

If you would like to be added to the tag list, please send me a message or ask or something.

[wri0thesley]

Since nobody seems to be talking about this, as a Kaeya simp, I feel compelled to bring up this prompt for your kinktober yantober list: Kaeya may or may not be a mass murderer. Because NAT. NAAAAAAT!!! KAEYA HAS NO RIGHT BEING SO HOT WITH BLOODSTAINS ON HIM!!! HE HAS NO RIGHT AAAAAAHG!!!

Also, I’m sure you likely already have an outline or scenario in mind for that prompt because your brain is big and beautiful, but my mind is now spinning: imagine being the object of yandere Kaeya’s affections. He always manages to be there whenever you’re not working, always accompanying you home, offering you his arm, paying for your drinks whenever you go to the tavern together (which is often). It’s especially nice because you’re rather lonely, as nobody else in Mondstadt seems to want to even be near you. It’s rather disheartening. But not to worry, for Kaeya’s there to cheer you up and make your heart flutter, all smiles and pretty eyes and smooth words and pleasantly-cool hands and compliments and assurances that you ever need anything he’s there for you. And of course, you never realize that he’s the reason for your loneliness, using threats and blackmail and the occasional show of force to ensure that nobody dares approach his darling, nobody gets between him and his precious future-lover. But then somebody nearly does. A coworker of yours who’s taken advantage of Kaeya’s absence due to his knightly duties during your work hours and has started courting you. And when Kaeya finds out, he. Is. Furious. It sickens him to his stomach, seeing them simper over you, compliment you and smile all sickeningly sweet with hearts in their eyes, sneak you flowers and sweets when your employer isn’t looking. Do you reciprocate those feelings? Do you like them back? It doesn’t matter if you do. You are Kaeya’s, even if you don’t know it yet. Kaeya wants you, he needs you, and he’s so so close to having you. He’s been so careful up until now, disarming you, manipulating you, making you rely on him and trust him and fall for him so much that you haven’t even noticed the cage he’s been slowly constructing around you. He refuses to lose you. And so he strikes. He waits patiently for a night when your co-worker is outside the city, then traps them, pins them to the ground with shards of ice before he emerges from the shadows with a sly (almost friendly) smile and a wicked gleam in his eye as he explains to the poor wretch EXACTLY what he’s going to do to them for daring to try stealing what is his. It takes him several hours, and by the time he returns to Mondstadt after having disposed of his rival’s remains, he’s tired and spattered with blood. As it happens, you had a late shift that night and you see Kaeya trudging home. And, bless your sweet little heart, you run up to him all worried and asking what happened and what you can do to help him. Kaeya assures you that it was just a night-patrol encounter with some monsters that got a little messy, he’s quite alright, but if you insist on taking him home to help him clean up and let him crash at your place, he certainly won’t refuse. And you do just that, leading him to your bathroom and (upon his request) helping him out of his uniform and tenderly washing him. And when he confesses how afraid he’d been in the fight and how it was the thought of you that had kept him going, just as it always has and always will, you kiss him, sweet and clumsy and desperate and uncaring that the blood still on his skin stains your own. The blood of somebody who might’ve saved you from Kaeya’s possessive grip on your life. But it’s not to be. Now, even if you don’t realize it yet, you’ve walked right into Kaeya’s cage and, between your increasingly heated kisses, he smiles triumphantly as he locks the door.

(Shit that turned out to be longer than I thought it’d be, sorry if it’s too much, Nat, Kaeya just gets my mind going and your prompt has me reeling)

PLEASE I NEVER MIND SEEING LONG MESSAGES IN THE INBOX...

ah, kaeya is such a terrifying concept for a yandere because manipulation is very much in his wheelhouse - that silky voice, that charming air, the trust that the knights place in him (and whilst some of the higher ups in the knights may have some small doubts about kaeya, there's no doubt he gets results - and it would be terribly foolish to go about telling the general public to be wary of someone who is supposed to be a face of the protectors)!

he has a perfectly good reason to dispose of anyone he thinks has ill intentions towards you, after all. nobody will look too far into things, when kaeya insists they were a violent threat to monstadt and it was all done in self-defence; he wears a sword for a reason. he has no motivation to lie about anything!

... well. that's what you have to tell yourself, when kaeya returns home spattered in blood again and you tend gently to his wounds.

[one-real-imonkey]

20 anger with jasTor so. We have a set? 🥺🥺🥺

Prompt- ‘Let go of me.’

Mwahahahahahaha… I mean, please enjoy.

---

"Jaster, stop thinking."

He huffed a laugh as his riduur pressed a kiss to his shoulder and wrapped himself around Jaster, in their shared bed, taking his glasses off and leaning over Jaster to put them on his bedside.

It wasn't his fault he was thinking so hard. They were this close to having a finished treaty with the New Mandalorians, one that both sides could agree to. One that he'd skilfully managed to write out so his people sacrificed little and the New Mandalorians conceded a lot, mainly the racism and exclusions policies. No more restrictions on adoption or migration or culture, no more cosmetic centres to 'fix' dark skin or non Kalevalan features or, Ka'ra, non human features. It would be illegal for shops or restaurants or services to refuse their service because of race or species.

"Jas. Stop."

"I can't help it Tor. This... this treaty could change everything. It could save so many lives, give our people their home."

"So why are you so concerned. Jas, your treaty is well written, it's air tight. It'll be fine."

"I'm just worried about Stevhaan Kryze. He and his keep trying to remove clauses I consider to be non-negotiable. And he keeps making jabs at my age and my race and I'm just... arggg you know?"

Jaster looked human, and quite a lot of his DNA was human, but like almost all Mandalorians, he was a very wide mix of races and species. His most notable non-human features were his eyes, his green-yellow irises betraying his Taung heritage. They could see in the dark with ease, but he still needed glasses to read, especially in normal light. He had far more Taung DNA than most, but the features that did surface for that, they were mostly internal. He knew it unnerved the New Mandos to see his not quite human features, he used it to his advantage because they could never maintain a staring match with him, and that they had their opinions of his skin colour and hair colour, without even getting to his beskar or political opinions.

Ka'ra he wished they just hated him for his politics, it would be easier.

"You're still more patient than me, riduur, and you know, if this does fall apart, we can always just invade. There are a lot of them but they certainly can't stop us, not to mention it was our home before they all moved in and took over anyway, so it's barely even an invasion."

"I'd rather not. Our people are warriors, but we're honourable, we don't just cut down civilians."

"Even when they're horrid people?"

"They're brainwashed Tor. What they say, what they do, it's wrong, and they have to learn better, but I... we can't attack them for being force-fed vile propaganda all their lives. The leadership propagating it, absolutely, but not the regular civilians. And you know as well as I do, even if we ordered it, none of our people would follow those orders. That something I love about them."

Tor laughed softly, and wrapped himself even tighter, and Jaster loved his riduur... he adored him.

"Our people are good and honourable, and you're a big part of that, cyare."

"I dream of a system where all our people are, where we're safe and free of their hate and honourlessness."

"Soon, cyare, soon. I promise."

.

.

.

Jaster cracked his shoulders and shifted in his seat. How was it so hard to convince these di'kut that Sentient Rights were, well, a thing.

Behind him the door hissed open and closed, and chances were that was Tor back from training.

Not wanting Tor to make him jump and knock his water on his work (again) he looked over his shoulder.

It wasn't Tor.

He knew who it was though. Klon Shrela, one of the many hitmen everyone knew worked for the New Mandalorians to take care of their problems without betraying their 'pacifist' ways.

In his rooms with him.

His armour was on the stand on the other side of the room, his comm on the bedside table. He was unarmed, but not incapable.

He dodged the first strike with the knife, but against a trained assassin with armour, he was on the back foot.

His stuff was sent flying off the desk, the desk stabbed instead of him, but despite his best attempts, and several well placed blows, he ended up backed against a wall.

He gasped as the knife drove deep into his stomach, and then his chest, and again.

The assassin stepped back and let him drop to the floor.

The world distorted.

The door hissed open and closed again.

There was yelling, a click-crunch-thump, there were hands moving him.

"Jaster..."

"Tor," he wheezed, "ridu...ur."

Everything was blurry, where were his glasses?

"Oh Jaster, it's ok. It's all going to be ok. Oh my beloved, it'll all be ok. They will pay for this."

"No... the..." he couldn't let his work go to waste when there could be peace, "treat...ty."

"No cyare, no this must be dealt with. Thats why you were the target, because you crafted this treaty, but they have to pay. For what they've done to all our, people and to you. They claim to be pacifists but they have hitmen like that shabuir doing their dirty work. They will pay for this, our people will rally now."

"Tor. Please."

"We can't negotiate with these monsters, words alone won't stop their atrocities, they must be stopped. You were right, our people would need a point to rally around for a war. But our people adore you Jas, you'll be a martyr, you'll be the reason Mandalore finds something better. You'll be the reason our people will be safe."

Had Tor called the medic, where were they? Were his wounds so bad the medic wouldn't matter, Tor was speaking like he was already gone.

"Help. Medic."

“Oh my love. It will kill me to lose you. Oh, beloved, but it was necessary. We had to stop them, we needed a reason. This had to happen.”

Jaster breath caught in his throat.

"What?"

The world was getting darker, darker, darker, and it wasn't just the blood loss.

Tor had arranged this.

"He's still a New Mandalorian assassin, he just took an anonymous hit on you, but everyone will think this was the New Mando's choice, who else would be behind it. The Kalevalans will fall and our people will finally be returned to their homes without fear of their prejudices and cruelty. Just like we wanted, like we always dreamed. It'll be the Mandalore you always spoke of. All because of you."

He said it like it was something Jaster would want, murder, not battle but murder.

"Let... go of... me."

He didn't want this monster touching him, holding him. Not like this, not like the adoring riduur he seemed to believe himself to be, that Jaster had believed him to be. He had arranged to have Jaster martyred, he'd arranged to have his riduur martyred. There were other ways for them to reach their dream, but Jaster was dying, and oh so many would follow him.

Tor ignored him, just cradled him close, brushing his hair with bloodstained hands.

"It will be beautiful. Oh Jaster, I just wish you could have lived to see it."

He could feel himself falling to the Manda's comfortable embrace, he could feel the very Ka'ra calling him.

He couldn't leave, not when such horrors were coming, not when so many would die.

But he didn't have a choice.

---

So anyway, that wasn't dark at all.

Anyway, thanks for the ask, and for reading. Hope you enjoyed.

Inbox always open. (-:

[aelaer]

Suicide TW!!! I live for the Nick/Stephen frenemy relationship, so: AU where Stephen is severely depressed and, instead of crashing his car, he parks in a pull-over and attempts suicide (drugs, alcohol, cutting, up to you) only to then be hit by an oncoming car. As a result, he ends up in hospital to realise that not only is he still alive, but Nick knows what he did. He can't stand the shame and humiliation, until he hears the words "I'm sorry" out of nowhere.

Okay nonny, so a couple things:

By relationship I presume you meant “platonic relationship” as my list of (serious) romance-focused stories in the MCU is a big fat zero and will remain that way probably for some time. If not all time. But I never say never.

I altered the scenario a bit and decided not to use a car crash, but the main elements (depression/suicide, Nick and Stephen interaction, Nick Knowing) remain. This also sort of allows it to potentially be in the “realm of canon” with enough stretching, should one decide to want the headcanon. Though IMO this is an AU-verse.

So I hope that’s all okay and you still find it fulfilling. I’ve never actually written Nick before (though I dabbled with the idea of all the events of Doctor Strange from Nick’s POV like, back when the film first came out) so that was also fun. I really dislike fics that make him look like an idiot (or worse, a pervert for some weird ass reason) so it’s great to get my own view out.

And I also didn’t want to write a book because I’ve got too many WIPs that are books that need to get finished first, so I was going for “short and sweet”. In a manner of speaking. I mean it seems I’m still incapable of doing something under 2000 words but it’s shorter than the last prompt so you know, I’m getting there. 

As the prompt suggests, this fic will go into detail about very serious subjects around mental health, including depression and suicide. Please proceed with caution if these are sensitive subjects for you. 

Please also note that the symptoms and actions taken within the story are not a guide or diagnosis tool and should be interpreted as strictly fictional. Please refer to official literature such as those offered by the National Suicide Prevention Hotline (US) and other verified sources for what you should do if you believe someone you know is suffering from suicidal thoughts.

Written for @stephenstrangebingo square, “It’s Not About You”.

—————–

Every employee at Metro-General took the confidentiality of their patients’ conditions seriously. There was no doctor or nurse on staff that could be bribed to leak any celebrity’s medical information; they were known for having some of the best doctors for a reason. Many of the elite of New York went to that hospital in the middle of Midtown for that famous discretion.

There was, however, one glaring exception to this rule that every nurse and doctor learned early on: if one of their co-workers had something very serious happen to them, their status would eventually leak out to the rest of the staff. There was never anything particularly hostile about the whispers, and while curiosity was the biggest fuel to the information train, news tended to spread out from concern rather than scorn. This trend even applied to staff members that were generally seen as assholes.

Doctor Nicodemus West learned this during his next shift. A couple minutes after entering his office, just as he was getting into his email inbox, a quick knock at the open door broke his concentration. He looked up and smiled. “Morning, Alyssa.”

The nurse offered a brief smile in greeting, but stepped inside and closed the door before speaking. “Did you hear the news?” she asked softly; her smile was gone.

His brow furrowed. “I’m sorry, news?”

“Doctor Strange was admitted to the ER last night.”

His mind came to a screeching halt. “What? Seriously?” He generally avoided the man if he could, though from what was going around the gossip circles the last couple weeks, Strange was still a raging asshole, but in good health. “What happened?”

Alyssa shook her head. “I don’t know all the details, but he had to get his stomach pumped.”

Nick winced in sympathy; that was not a pleasant experience. “Jeez,” he muttered. “Is he doing okay?”

“Last I heard, he’s stable,” she answered. “Apparently Doctor Palmer’s still his emergency contact, though.”

“She would be anyone’s emergency contact; she’s too good of a person,” he replied in return. “Thanks for letting me know, though; I suspect others in the department may need to take some of his patients that can’t wait for him.”

Alyssa nodded. “The administration is already looking through his cases, though I expect he’ll be up and back at work as soon as he can. Doctor Strange is never really one for breaks.”

“I suppose not,” said Nick. The conversation turned to other topics and the neurosurgeon put the matter with Strange in the back of his mind, left as generally unimportant in the grand scheme of his life.

————— 

Strange got back to work and things got back to normal in the neurology department.

Only thing was, Nick started noticing things.

While Doctor West was no prodigy like Doctor Strange, he would not have the ability to become a neurosurgeon without the ability to notice details. It was the details in life— in the human body in particular— that fascinated him and turned him towards medicine in the first place. No, he wasn’t a prodigy, but he was still damn good at his job.

So when Strange came back to the office a few days after his visit to the ER, Nick decided to break his usual policy of avoiding Strange as much as humanly possible and went to his office to welcome him back. It was good for department morale to act mostly cordial to each other, even if most of the effort was on his part.

The door was open and Strange was still in his outer coat, back to him, when Nick knocked on the doorway. The doctor turned to face him and Nick raised a hand in greeting. “Hey. Just wanted to say welcome back.”

Strange’s brow furrowed and he made a rather weird expression. “Oh… uh, thanks.” He turned to the coat rack in the corner of the room and began to remove his outerwear.

“How’re you…” Nick started, but paused as the coat was fully removed, revealing Strange’s dress shirt underneath. It hung rather loosely on his figure; apparently the man had lost some weight recently. Due to Christine Palmer’s honeymoon phase about two years ago, Nick was more aware than he would prefer to be about how ‘fit’ Doctor Stephen Strange was (which really was unfair).

It seemed that wasn’t the case anymore. When had that happened?

Strange didn’t seem to notice his trailing off. “I’m fine. Perfectly alright, thank you. I hope you didn’t botch any of my surgeries while I was gone.”

And there was the asshole he remembered. Nick pressed his lips together. “All your patients are recovering without setback. You can even see them for yourself.” He did his best to cut back the bite of sarcasm in his last sentence.

If Strange heard it, he didn’t comment on it. “I’ll let the nurses handle it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I do have a lot of emails to catch up on. Close the door behind you, if you would.”

Nick rolled his eyes and shut the door as he left the office, but the detail seen settled in the back of his mind to remain quiet, but not forgotten.

And with that one thing noticed, he started to notice more things as the weeks passed on.

According to Alyssa, Strange was rarely seen in the hospital cafeteria anymore— one of the cafeteria staff  members who had an open crush on the doctor was complaining about it, apparently.

Strange was having bouts of insomnia, according to gossiping security personnel. There were times that doctors did not go home for the night, but his were becoming more consistent occurrences.

As Nick ate with members from both his usual surgical team and Strange’s surgical team one lunch time a few weeks after Strange came back to work, the topic somehow went to Strange and his uncanny recollection for music, no matter the genre or decade it was released. It was well known that he liked to have the others on his team try and challenge him with their song choices while he was performing his operations.

“Not anymore,” said Billy, and Alyssa frowned at him.

“What? But that’s his gig! He’s been doing that for years.”

Billy shrugged. “He hasn’t been doing it for a few months now. He’s told us he doesn’t care what we want to play, but he doesn’t guess at songs anymore. Doesn’t give any recommendations, either. It sort of sucks; my music library has barely expanded this year.”

“Maybe you need to find something really challenging, a song so obscure that he’ll be drawn into it again,” she said. “I wonder how well he knows Jamaican music.”

“We tried British and Australian Top Hits of the ‘80s last year, but we haven’t done Jamaica. Do Jamaicans generally speak English? He hasn’t memorized songs from every language in the world.”

She rolled her eyes, and as Alyssa started explaining the history of Jamaica and Jamaican Creole, Nick stored this new bit of information away in the section of his brain that, somehow, had become dedicated to collecting all these tidbits.

And Nick noticed that every time he bumped into the other neurosurgeon in the hall, he appeared exhausted. Nick did not know if anyone else noticed the clear loss of weight and the dark bags around his eyes, but they were blindingly obvious to him. 

Usually Strange moved with an endless amount of energy when off to surgery, and with some of the more challenging surgeries the energy stayed with him no matter how long the procedure took. It was an exuberance that even he admired, though it was never something he planned to admit to Strange. But now the energy was missing. He was still snarky and aloof, but the spark of genuine joy that was once clear to everyone in the department was gone.

If Strange was a friend, he would have acted weeks ago. If Strange was a colleague he got along with, he would have waited no longer than a month, just to make sure. But two months after his short medical hiatus and Nick remained uncertain, because this was Stephen Strange. Surely no one as big-headed and arrogant as he could ever actually be— yes, there were some signs, but it just seemed too far-fetched. Surely not.

A couple weeks later and some of the doctors from neurosurgery, some from cardiology, and some from the ER were having a rare lunch together. Somehow Christine Palmer had managed to drag Strange out of his office to see his coworkers. And somehow he ended up sitting next to Strange, though the man was mostly quiet as he took the occasional bite from his salad. That in itself was very unusual, as Nick was used to Strange enjoying all the attention of the room.

The conversation turned to a sudden, inexplicable death that happened just yesterday that the hospital was still trying to solve. As theories went around the table, Nick heard Strange mutter under his breath, “Maybe she just realized life wasn’t worth living.” None of the others heard it. Nick pretended he didn’t, either.

But the comment resonated in his head for the rest of the day.

———— 

This was not going to be comfortable. This was not going to be easy. Nick hated that he, of all people, had noticed. Had no one else seen it?

It only took another day to push his discomfort aside. “It’s not about you,” he mumbled to himself in the mirror in the early morning. “Strange needs help.” And he was a doctor, first and foremost. And doctors helped people in need.

He wanted to speak with Strange outside the hospital, in a neutral place for them both. The only problem was that he never saw the man outside of work and he had no idea how to approach him.

The opportunity came a few days later when Nick was already performing surgery while on call. Another emergency craniotomy was required and Strange stepped in at Christine’s request while Nick was unavailable. It was as good a reason as any.

“Thank you for taking that patient yesterday,” he said in greeting the next morning.

Strange looked up from his computer, surprise crossing his features. He looked tired. “No surgeon can be in two surgeries at once,” he said with a shrug.

“Still, I appreciate it,” Nick said. “I know you’re not fond of the ER.”

“A butcher shop.”

He ignored the comment. “So I’d like to thank you. You free after work? Dinner’s on me.”

The other man stared at him. “You want to have dinner,” he said flatly.

“As colleagues,” he added, hopefully unnecessarily, because really? “I’m trying to be nice and show my appreciation, Strange. Don’t be an ass about it and just say yes.”

Strange lifted his brows high, but the fuel to his ego did the trick. “Yeah, sure. Got any place in mind?”

Nick shrugged. “There’s a good Italian place three blocks south of us.”

“Italian’s fine.”

“Cool. See you later.” He ignored the expression on Strange’s face and took his leave.

—————

The walk from the hospital to the restaurant was a bit of an uncomfortable one, but Nick wasn’t certain if it was mostly one-sided or not; Strange was more or less expressionless. He only tried to instigate conversation once throughout the walk, but it trailed off to silence before they reached the second block, so Nick decided then to save all attempts at conversation for dinner.

It was going to be hard enough then.

After they arrived and were seated, he also decided to wait until they had finished eating before approaching the topic. Maybe the food would relax the nerves in his gut.

So in the meantime he talked shop. It had been some time since either of them had discussed their cases with each other, so he figured that it was a safe enough conversation topic until the end of the meal.

Unfortunately Strange, bastard that he was, threw him off his planned course. It was just after they ordered food; both had a glass of wine and their waiter had already set down a basket of bread and a saucer of olive oil for dipping. Strange caught Nick as the latter was ripping off a piece of bread to smother in the dipping oil.

“What is this really about?” he asked.

Nick paused mid-dip. “What?”

“All this.” He waved an arm to gesture to the restaurant. “I’ve helped in the ER several times when your hands were full. What is this actually about?”

He set his bread on his plate, frowning. “You can’t wait until after we eat?”

Strange raised a brow. “Consider yourself fortunate I said yes to this at all. I only came because, admittedly, I’m curious; I cannot begin to guess what you could possibly want to talk to me about outside of work.”

“Fine, fine.” Nick sighed and set his elbows on the table. He pressed his lips against his closed fists as he figured out how to start. All the while, Strange stared at him with an odd mix of exasperation and puzzlement. “You…” he started slowly. He trailed off.

“Me,” said Strange.

Fuck it. “You’ve been off lately.”

His brows shot up. “Off?”

“Yeah, off. Not yourself. Different.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means exactly that. You’re acting differently lately. For a while, apparently.”

He bristled in clear irritation. “If you’re just going to waste my time—”

“You don’t enjoy your work anymore.”

That shut him up. Nick continued in the silence. “You used to always enter and exit your operations with this excitement that echoed down the halls. That’s completely gone.”

Strange recovered his voice. “If you’re implying that my work has suffered—”

“No, no,” he interrupted. “Not at all. This isn’t about the quality of your work; this is about you.” Strange didn’t have an immediate retort to that, so Nick continued, “Or maybe it’s not about you but about this man that’s taken over you the last several months. That man is clearly not eating and sleeping well, barely comes out of his office, hasn’t bragged about his newest studies and speeches in months, and mutters about life not being worth living at lunchtime.”

His colleague’s mouth hung slightly open as if he wanted to say something but had forgotten how to speak. Nick couldn’t quite read the emotion in his eyes, either. Before he completely lost his nerve, he said one last observation. “And that man,” he muttered, “had his stomach pumped two months ago, and those circumstances combined with the rest paint a picture of a man who… might be a bit lost.”

Something raw flashed through Strange’s eyes that made him appear more vulnerable than Nick’s ever seen him before. That brought on a strange and discomforting feeling that joined the rest of the jumbled nerves in his stomach.

Quickly he continued, “You don’t need to tell me anything. I’m not demanding anything from you. I just wanted to say that— no matter what differences we have— that if you do need someone for— for anything— that I’m here. Even if it’s just to listen.”

He fell silent, and still Strange didn’t say anything immediately, which was unusual in itself. Nick wasn’t sure if he should continue looking at him or if he should look away, or what.

And thank God, dinner arrived and gave him the perfect reason to look away and leave Strange to his thoughts.

The silence sat for the remainder of the meal. Strange didn’t eat much (though he couldn’t blame him) but also didn’t leave. Nick didn’t know what that meant, or if it meant anything at all.

Still, he had one last thing to say.

After he paid the bill, he pulled a card from his wallet as he stood up. “She came with high recommendations,” he said as he put down the card of a therapist that most certainly did not work at Metro-General. “Think about it.” With that, he took his leave, allowing Strange time alone to dwell on what he said.

————

When they next saw each other at work, neither of them made any indication to each other that they had dinner last night. Their last conversation never crossed the threshold of the hospital. Strange never called him, and Nick never inquired about his well being more than he did any other coworker.

But a few months later, when he got word that Strange was starting his music challenge games in his operations once more, Nick allowed himself a small smile at the news.

[ruthlessnessisyourdesire-archive]

rp guidelines.

Mun is Ash. She/Her. 21+. Ruthless Drama King keeps me prisoner. 

This blog is 21+ Nsfw/smut will not be written with those under 21 years old. I will not write with minors. 

I know there are a lot of rules here now but incidents, past stuff in rp scene kind of made it mandatory for myself to put down. Common sense lacks in some too so sorry it’s so long but ya know. Gotta do what we rpers gotta do. <3

tw: potential for triggering content & subject matter due to crime scene investigations/forensic profiling. strong language expected. he is simply a problematic aggressive character in most verses.

no godmodding. unspoken rule but please do not control my character under any circumstances. if you continue to break this rule however I may have to cancel our thread. only in extreme cases.

Don’t have personal triggers but I will not write my muse forcing themselves on any other muse.

any personal triggers you are uncomfortable with I will not write and vice versa.

multiverse/oc friendly. au friendly: discussion on AU’s are love. same char different mun friendly. duplicates are always welcome. personally I love OC’s and this boy cannot get enough interaction from them ever. just so you know. 

Do not screenshot my posts: ooc, threads etc. It is MY content. I should not have to add this but yes this has happened without my knowledge - at first. 

Unfollowing: If there is something you disagree with, do not favor about my writing, portrayal, muse(s) or views the button is always there. Please soft block to unfollow. I will do the same and quietly if it calls for it. 

PSA: Don’t call 60 Connor. He is not Connor. He is his own person. This sort of trumps the significance I have built for him as an individual entity in my characterization/ headcanons/ personal iteration in a fandom where he is overlooked. Also if you do refer to him as such verbally to his face you consent to the wrath and animosity he will bestow upon you be it verbal or potentially physical. Trust me 60 is not fond of being mistaken for his predecessor. (It’s a pet peeve and I’m sorry lol but they’re two separate people. I mean I write Connor too so bear with me.)

plots are love. let's discuss story, char relationships, just anything really. down for plotted, random prompts and memes. my dm’s are always open. if I don’t respond straight away I’m either not on at the moment or I’m just swamped in drafts. I still want you to drop in tho.

replies may take a bit. this is a hobby. if I take a while it doesn’t mean I don’t want to rp. sometimes I forget, tumblr eats my notifs or I haven’t thought up a decent reply as of yet. please be patient. I always offer the same to my rp partners. also I do get swamped in drafts and asks so this does contribute to my reply speed. TLDR: I am slow af but I want to write with you.

want to drop a thread? we all lose muse, get too busy, overwhelmed at times. it is perfectly OK. when I do thread purges I will always post an update and @ those I am keeping threads with. the number of follows I have it is just easier for me to do it this way.

shipping: will ship with chars but there are some I may turn down depending on personal preference. typically ships with another RK800/RK900 are a no. sibling, platonic, enemies is where I go. some exceptions may apply depending on verse type but his exclusive and only RK800 ship is with @rob0badge . 60 also would like platonic, friend and enemy ships to counter his romantic ships. any and all are appreciated. 

open to smut threads. 21+ very explicit at times depending on verse. 60 is ruthless. fair warning. also smut is not a requirement for romantic ships. if you’re not down for that then 60 is all about the respect of his partner’s wishes.

multiship friendly: winning rk800-60's affection is not easy in the long run. remember he is not easy to get along with. 

Shipping Additions: I WILL NOT ship cross unless it is plotted mutually between all parties. even then I will be selective about it. please respect this. multiverse is a thing and that is what my blog is. it will just be ignored. 

Content Trigger: 60 is very much ruthless despite his fall into deviancy. if you are uncomfortable with intense personalities this may not be the rp blog for you. certain themes will be highly thematic, problematic and even controversial at times. all of these will be tagged accordingly and put under read more for my followers/mutuals. he will be aggressive and hateful depending on circumstances. he is not very nice. however, the mun does not reflect this characterization and is extremely nice to followers. 60 may not share that affinity but the mun has no malicious intent. Only this ruthless boy does.

threads containing 18/21+ material always go under read more. please adhere to all warnings. some subject matter may be unsettling. remember any dark or triggering themes are NOT condoned by me irl. it just needs to be said.

Interactions: non-rp blogs, personals or those not part of current threads: DO NOT REBLOG. this is becoming a problem lately and I really don’t want to be that person but please follow this rule.If you continue to do so you will be BLOCKED. You can like my posts just fine however. In fact it’s welcome! I like to see others enjoying what I write for the ruthless king.

DBH VERSE REQUIRED: It just works better to be able to write adequately and since my muse is from this universe it’s a given. I rarely do crossovers as I feel some just do not work or fit my muse. If I do they are with main mutuals depending on fandom or personal preference.

Mutual Exclusive/RP Blogs Only: This blog is now private. If you follow me and I do the same back it means I want to interact. Otherwise assume I won’t be following back if I haven’t in a week. I have had some odd things come 60′s way and it is why this blog is locked down now.

Follows: If I follow back it means I want to interact with you. If you're a mutual and you still have not interacted with me after several weeks I WILL unfollow. This is nothing against anyone or meant to be unfair/mean spirited. The blog is an rp blog so of course I want to interact with you all. Also I do not just give free follows since this is not a personal blog. 

I would love to follow back depending but if I see no rules or somewhere that states 21 and above for the mun on your blog I won’t. I interact solely with those 21+. I myself am 28 years old. Respect this and don’t lie about your age to me. I have had people lie to me in the past and they’ve been dropped faster then you can shout “Deviant Spotted!”

I reserve the right to unfollow anyone for whatever reason including but not limited to rp politics. Ya gurl not here for rp snobbery or assumptions made. If I become uncomfortable I will soft block to unfollow quietly. I also practice block back. Meaning if I’m hardblocked (which is in anyone’s right who is uncomfortable with my content) I will hardblock back. It’s only fair and honestly it’s a lovely page taken out of one of my waifu’s books.

OOC: If you post a crap ton of ooc posts (I mean plz it’s your blog and your content is yours so go for it) I may unfollow if I cannot blacklist them properly. I mean things that aren’t rp related. This is only in extreme cases. My blog has overwhelmed me so the dash being flooded is something I want to clean up.

Replies: As I have stated in updates on this blog I am super busy and backed up. My reply speed is slower due to lots of drafts and asks. You can remind me but please don’t come at me or try to push me. Muse can be fickle. Some days I have it for a specific verse, others I have it for shorter convos or text threads. I aim to reply to everyone but keep in mind running this blog is not easy and I want it be fun for me. It’s a hobby.  When I have to worry and hide from people this is no longer that. If it continues I will drop the thread completely. Only in extreme cases. 

Pressuring: Do not come into my inbox on anon passive aggressively asking when I will reply to threads. If you honestly want to remind me like a normal person my dms are open to mutuals only. Do not guilt me into rping. If you pressure and attempt manipulating me you will be blocked. This has happened and I will not put up with it. 

Please reblog any memes/prompts from the source and not this blog. I am not an rp source or creator of these. If you continue to do this and just harvest my blog for memes without even interacting I will unfollow/block. If you reblog send me one then. If not well do not do it. non-mutuals do not reblog anything at all from this blog. Also I  have to mention some people have used me as a source WITHOUT reblogging from me. Meaning they see the meme and reblog it for themselves as a means of bypassing sending in anything. If we’re mutuals why are you doing this? It will just make me think you do not want to interact.

Asks: Do not reblog asks. Please if you wish to continue make a new post and link back to ask. It just makes my dash a little cleaner and I want to avoid extra asks in the inbox continuing it when we can turn them into convo threads. So please don’t keep sending asks to continue a plot line. Thread it.

IMPORTANT NOTE ABOUT HATE & ASSUMPTIONS: If I discover you sending hate on anon to anybody you’re gone. If you send hate to people about what they ship, especially to female muns/muses, you’re gone. I will not tolerate hate of any kind and if I see you talking negatively about any female muse I will soft block you quietly. I just do not want to interact with you. People who assume generalized posts are about them when I follow you will be softblocked as well. Honestly it’s a given that if I’m following it’s not directed at you. I will not put up with assumptions or continue to view it on my dash. Unfollow me, softblock me, etc. It’s not difficult. My comfort levels are important to me as well as yours should be.

I will not  interact with egoists. If I see anything that wigs me out I will just softblock quietly. Elitists go home. I don’t want you here. 

I will never rush or be pushy at my partners. I’m so chill about threads. please take your time. let’s never take the fun out of it. never think you’re taking too long or bothering me. DM’s are open to my mutuals only.

I do not do passwords or send messages of any kind. If I am following you rest assured that I have read your rules. I do this automatically when someone follows me and vice versa since I expect the same. If I’m liking update posts you can consider that me seeing it as well. 

unfollowing/refollowing: Don’t do it on my blog. If you follow and then unfollow but for some reason come back to follow you get blocked from my side. I don’t need the bs or the attention seeking.

Duplicates are amazing but I will be selective who I follow back and interact with. Nothing personal but I have been the victim of theft in the past. It’s an unfortunate thing but my characterization and headcanons for 60 are my own. I have been writing this boy forever even long before I made this blog. I’m highly protective of my ruthless king. He is my baby after all.

softblocks: I remove people by doing this. It could be for any reason to be honest. We never interact, you keep dropping our stuff, show no interest, I don’t see us interacting after all or any number of reasons to make my dash more comfortable. Do not ask me why I did it. That’s my comfort. No hard feelings. Just move on. I don’t have to cater to you. If you don’t like my methods use the unfollow button and leave my blog. Simple enough.

hardbocking/blacklisting: Yes I have done it. Am I going to blatantly broadcast it for all to see? Nope. I am not obligated to explain why I blocked you. Most times you have broken my rules despite me reminding to read them. Other times there are people I just do not want to see and that is my right not to see them. Same goes for you. Block me if you do not like what you see. I will not censor myself, my writing or who I interact with.

ostracizing people in the rpc: If you don’t like who I am interacting with use your blacklist function. NEVER tell me not to interact with them. If I find out you practice this exclusion tactic on others in the rpc I will purge you off my blog no questions or explanation needed. I totally get it. There are people I don’t like. No one is going to like everyone but do you see me telling others NOT to write with them? Hell no because I know for a fact they have done it to me and others love to listen without all sides to a story.

I also drop people who vague in public servers because it’s straight up childish behavior. I also will not follow or interact with anyone who guilt trips, suicide baits or lies with a pity party song and dance. When you’re found out to be lying or telling other people not to interact with somebody in this RPC I want nothing to do with you. Move on. That’s it. 

Drop a like if you made it this far. Whew! No passwords needed. Even if you don’t drop a like it won’t prevent me interacting it’s just nice to see. 

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Wan High Weeping (Part 48)

Kay, so holy shit, this is the longest chapter I have ever written I think lmao.

‘Do you know what you’ve cost me!?’ The message appeared in her inbox on several sites and on her phone. She was very well aware and it satisfied her to the core. Chan had told her; “you got her kicked off of the team, you know?”

At the time, she had not, but she was more than pleased to hear it.

“And what about you?”

“Yeah, me too. They didn’t want that kind of image for the team.”

For a second she felt bad. But really, what did they expect to come out of nudging and jabbing at her when she was already down? Did they think that she would remain embarrassingly passive for good?  Another message appeared from Usha. The girl was all over Azula’s pages, apparently her lesson wouldn’t be learned until after the trial took her down a couple thousand dollars. At least the others had the brainpower to keep quiet and let Usha fuss alone. Even Kori had nothing to say these days. Azula was under the impression that Kori was well aware that she was in the line of fire and if she stepped on Azula’s toes she’d be in the courtroom too. ‘Fucking bitch!’ Usha seethed from behind a screen.

Azula wondered if Yue would find this to be of any interest.

“Who are you talking to?” Zuko asked.

“No one, Zu-Zu.” Azula replied, slipping her phone back into her pocket.

“Thanks for driving me today.” He smiled.

“Don’t thank me yet. You’re driving me to the next one.”

Zuko laughed, though Azula didn’t know what was so humorous about it.

“I figured that I would be.” He noted.

Truth be told, it was kind of nice going with him to the sessions. It was convenient, it saved on gas money, and she didn’t feel so awkward and alone. Granted, this was only the second time they had driven to the session together.

“What are you seeing a therapist for anyways?” It was the second time he had asked.

“Father.” She said, simply. A safely broad answer.

“What did he do to you?”

Azula stood up. “It’s almost four, I think that you should head to the rehab side.” She caught Zuko rolling his eyes at the timing. But he couldn’t argue because, by all means, she was right. “I’ve got to get to my own session.” She started to walk away, turning around only to say, “meet me back here when you’re done.”

She gave Yue’s door two soft knocks and the woman beckoned her in.

“What happened?” Azula asked after taking her seat.

Yue cradled her casted arm. “I was in a car accident over the weekend. It wasn’t too serious, but I’m going to need a new car. I hope that your weekend went a little better.”

“It was fine. Zu-Zu, is living with mother and I now.”

“Your brother?”

Azula nodded. “That is his nickname.”

“How is that going?”

“Fine, so far. We drive here together.”

Yue smiled. “That sounds like a good thing. It looks like your hands are healing.”

Azula looked at the backs of her hands. The scabs on her knuckles had cleared completely. Granted, volleyball had given her a new bruise to take their place. “Yes.” She agreed.

“I take it, you have been sticking to the meal plan?”

“I have been, yes.”

“I can tell.” Yue noted. Before Azula had a chance to leap to conclusions, Yue adds, “your voice sounds less scratchy too.” She pauses. “Doesn’t it feel better?”

Reluctantly, Azula agreed to that as well. She did feel better, her throat wasn’t sore, her stomach didn’t ache, and she didn’t have to deal with cramping, so long as she didn’t pull something during practice. Practice, which she had the energy for.

She wasn’t constantly thinking of food either.

“It has only been a few weeks and you’ve already made a lot of progress. You realize that don’t you?”

It was in the back of her mind, yes, but she hadn’t really had the time to truly consider it. Not until Yue brought it to the foreground. Indeed, she was feeling more like herself. In most regards anyways. “But--.”

She didn’t have to finish for Yue to know. “You’re still worried about your weight, aren’t you?”

At that point, worried might have been an understatement. It was more or less and underlying dread.

“Give your body time, remember? You’ll find that the body is very effective at sorting itself out, given optimal conditions.” She drew out a few files. “Based on what your doctor has forwarded me, you are in very healthy condition, all things considered.”

“I know…” Azula trailed off. She can feel that much.

“Let me ask you something else.”

“Go ahead.”

“Has anyone made any comments about your weight?”

Azula thought for a moment. Neither Zuko nor Ursa had said anything. Nor had Iroh. She thought back to her reunion with Chan. The boy made no comments either, but she was almost certain that he was thinking it. “Not out loud.” She finally answered.

“I promise you, that you are the hardest on yourself.” Yue had said that the last time too. Apparently, a reminder wouldn’t hurt. Azula thought that she could use a reminder. “Just give yourself a little more time.”

“How much time?” Azula asked. She liked to think herself a patient person. But she was running low on it. She just wanted to be Azula again. Truly, Azula.

“It’s hard to say.” Yue admitted. “But you are doing very well, I’d say that your body is already mostly used to eating correctly again.” She peered at Azula’s medical files again. “In other words, I’d say you are at the point where your weight is going to flatline instead of increase. If you stick to your volleyball routine, perhaps add a morning jog on the side, an I think you’ll start to see the results you want sooner rather than later.”

It was the most reassuring thing she had heard all week.

“Two days from now, I’ll be at my first game of the season.”

“That’s wonderful news.” Yue grinned. “You’ll have to let me know how that goes.”

“We’re going to lose.” Azula replied flatly. “But it won’t be my fault. I don’t think that the rest of the team is trying as hard as they could be…”

“Have you considered that this is a good thing?”

“It makes me feel better about myself, I suppose.”

“You need to learn to play for fun before you can play competitively again. I’m under the impression that your father took something you enjoyed and turned it into something that came with a lot of stress. You need to reclaim what you enjoyed.”

Azula sighed. Now that she had at least somewhat of a handle on her eating habits, the woman wanted to start talking abuse. “I already have.” She said. “I like my new team…even though they have no hand eye-coordination whatsoever.” Frankly it their dreadful playing almost made her happy. They were less tense, they made jokes and jabs that were actually funny.

They were comfortable.

“I’ll give them this first game to mess around.” Azula declared. “But they will learn to play good.”

Yue snickered. “I’m sure that they will.” Her smile faded after a moment. “Can we talk about your father, Azula?”

.oOo.

Zuko took a seat and took a gander around the room. It was cozy with a shelf of books and a mural of a dormant volcano.  His new therapist sat behind his desk stroking a silvery beard. “Welcome, Mr. Kasai, I’m Dr. Jeong Jeong.”

“Zuko.” He returned.

“I do hope that we will get along better than you and Dr. Pakku did.”

“We can’t possibly get along worse.” Zuko replied.

“Alright, so what did and didn’t work when you talked to Dr. Pakku?”

“Nothing worked; he never let me finish talking, he always made assumptions, I don’t think that he wanted to work with a former heroin addict.”

Jeong Jeong scrawled something down in his notebook. “I will let you talk for as long as you want, Mr. Kasai...or would you prefer Zuko? Just let me know if I have cut you off or have made an assumption, I will do my best to correct it.”

“Zuko is fine.” He answered. “And I will.”

“Feel free to talk whenever you are ready.” Jeong Jeong prompted. “I would love to know what started your addiction in the first place, so we can cut away the root problem.”

“My family. Especially my father.” Zuko began. “I was pretty young when my mom left, I was about eight years old. Before she left, I always heard them arguing. He would get really loud and I didn’t understand what was going on. I don’t remember what he was yelling about but mother would usually cry. Most of the time, my sister would come into my room because they were being too loud for her and she couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t help because I was afraid too.” He paused. “A lot of the times I think that they fought over me and Azula. About how he was raising Azula wrong and how he was giving her too much attention and giving me none at all. My mother fought him because he put too much pressure on us and we were just kids. I thought that they just screamed at each other. But one day my sister went downstairs--I don’t remember why. I just know that she came upstairs and asked why daddy was hitting mommy…”

Jeong Jeong nodded. “Do you want my input or do you have more to add?”

“I have more to add.” He replied. “After that, I started noticing it more. I would listen for slaps and I would have to keep Azula from going downstairs, because I was afraid he would hurt her too. He smacked me when I went down for food while they were arguing.” He was getting a little ahead of himself. “So I stayed upstairs and sometimes I could hear him throwing things. After awhile mother left, I don’t think that she wanted to, because she wanted to protect us. But my father got the divorce papers and they were in court. She didn’t have any money and she couldn’t prove the abuse, father stopped hitting her around when he decided that he was going to take her to court. So he got custody of us. My mother filed for a restraining order and my father let her get it so he wouldn’t have to waste anymore time.” Zuko stopped to let the man finish writing. “After mom was gone he started abusing me instead, and, I think, my sister too. Father liked to get in her head. She liked being the favorite and he got her to help him hurt me. She mostly said things that hurt. Father did things that hurt. I have scars on my back from his belt. I have them on my sides too. A few years ago we were learning about drugs in my health class. I found out that a lot of people use heroin to get rid of physical pain.

I decided to try it for myself.”

Jeong Jeong took all of that down.

“I am done.” He replied.

“Very well.” Jeong Jeong replied. “Have you since taken steps to protect yourself from your father, because that would be a good start. I would also advice accepting that you shouldn’t crave acceptance from your father.”

“But I do!” Zuko burst out. “I hate him. But I do. I want him to value me.”

“Do you?” Jeong Jeong asked. “Do you really want to be praised by a man like that? A man who would hit his wife? A man like that will only accept a man who does the misdeeds he does.”

Zuko stuttered to form a defense. “Well…”

“Do not defend a man who will not do the same for you. Do not fight to earn the praise of someone who won’t respect you. Do not looking up to a man who looks down on you. Are you getting the picture?”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“That was not my intent.” Jeong Jeong replied. “I do not mean to sound condescending. I was simply trying to tell you that you are a respectable man so you should treat yourself with respect and take less consideration into those who won’t.”

His mouth ran dry. “I.” He tried. “I didn’t think about it like that.”

“Have you taken steps to distance yourself from your abuser?”

“I live with my mother now.” He replied. “And my sister and mother are taking him to court. I plan on testifying.”

“Good steps. Wise ones, it sounds like you have a support system.”

“My uncle and my boyfriend have been really helpful.”

“And what about your sister? You mentioned that she helped your father abuse you?”

“Until this past summer.” He replied.

“And then what happened?”

“She bothered me less when she found out that I was on drugs. I think that she was concerned right before I ran away. She was the one who told my uncle to find me. I think that it’s because he, father, started treating her like he treats me and...she’s different now.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“I think so. She drove me here today.”

Jeong Jeong jotted that down. “I think that what you have going is a good start. Make amends with her. The closer you are to your sister and mother, the less power your father will have. I can get you your file, if that will aid in the court process.”

“That would be great!” Zuko smiled. “The trial is next Saturday, if you can get it by then.”

“That is possible.” Jeong Jeong promised. He looked at the wall on the clock. “For now, Zuko, I would like you to maintain and strengthen your support system. The larger and sturdier it is, the easier it will be for you to stay clean.” He stood up. “And congratulations on one month.” He extended an arm. “You have my respect.”

Zuko shook his hand. “Thank you.”

Jeong Jeong nodded. “Thank yourself, Zuko, you have done most of the work. It was a pleasure meeting you.”

“You too, Dr. Jeong Jeong.”

“I will see you on Tuesday.”

Zuko closed the door behind him. Jeong Jeong definitely suited his needs more than Pakku did. Respect. Self-respect. Why hadn’t he considered the concept before?

.oOo.

Azula laced up her shoes and slung her bag over her shoulder.

The bus was about to leave and she couldn’t get the nervous flutter out of her tummy. She didn’t recall ever having felt so nervous before a game. But then, she had never been so out of shape for one either. She took a deep breath, reminding herself that she was doing this for pleasure, not for competition. At least for now.

“You okay?” Chinami asked.

“I’m fine.” Azula replied.

She watched Zirin rummage through her backpack, declaring that she was going to finish her homework during the bus ride. Ikue and Ryoko shared headphones, listening to their music loud enough for Azula to hear the lyrics as well. That left Chinami and Shoko for company. Coach Ruka ran through her pep talk and then left them to socialize. Chinami spent much of the ride showing she and Shoko her favorite cat videos. Azula didn’t protest, she could use the distraction.

Stepping back onto the court in front of a crowd was surreal and disorienting. She scanned the crowd and found Ursa. she caught her mother’s eye and the woman waved. She nudged Zuko who gave a wave of his own. She returned it. She caught TyLee wheeling Teo next to them.

It was her first game in ages.

And the first time her mother and Teo would ever seen her play.

Was she going to lose? Most certainly, but at least it was a game.

At least she was on the court again.

Azula was to make the first serve. She wished that she could pull off a jump serve. Instead she settled for a topspin serve.  She scanned the court for an opening and hit the ball. The opposing team was a speedy lot, they hit it back with ease. Zirin returned their defensive strike. Azula watched the ball go over the net a few times before it came back within her reach. She bumped it back, aiming for the small spot they left undefended. The ball hit the floor with a satisfying thump.

Azula didn’t know who blushed more when Ursa started hollering, she or Zuko.

“Man, I wish my mom loved me that much.” Zirin mumbled, letting the volleyball land on the ground next to her. “Whoops.”

“Zirin, pay attention.” Azula hissed.

“Sorry.” She winced.

They rotated positions and it was Zirin’s turn to serve. She hoped that the girl could at least make it over the net, with her it was always hit or miss. Tonight, seemed like a hit kind of night. Again the ball came in Azula’s direction, a fast hit. Faster than she could manage in current.

The other team made their serve. Another fast strike that evaded Ryoko and Ikue. But Azula wouldn’t let it evade her, not a second time. She spiked it back, throwing just as much momentum into it as they had served the ball with.

She managed to score them another point.

The only other point they managed to steal for the rest of the game.

Azula sighed, that was definitely the worst she had ever done. But at least she had managed to do something. Apparently her teammates begged to differ.

“Wow, that was our best game in a while.” Chinami noted.

“Have we ever scored more than one point before?” Ryoko asked.

“I think that there was this one time when we scored three points.” Ikue pointed out.

“But that was the longest, we’ve ever kept the ball from hitting the ground.” Shoko noted.

Zirin came up behind Azula. “You are good at volleyball!”

“I used to be better.” Azula frowned.

“I don’t know, you’re still really fast. I feel like they wouldn’t have scored as much if we were that fast.” Zirin disagreed.

“Thanks.” She replied. “And, don’t worry, you will be.”

“See, now you’re scaring me…”

“Good.” Azula smirked. “We will be practicing on weekends, starting after this weekend.”

“We will?”

“I will send all of you my address. You all will learn to score points.”

Coach Ruka laughed. “Azula, stop threatening your teammates with the possibility of success.” And then in a mumble she replied, “trust me, it doesn’t work.”

“I’ll get it to work coach, and you will have a team that can make it, at least, to regionals.” Azula vowed. “They’re good at this, they just don’t want to admit it because…” she paused. “Because it’s safer not to. They just need to put some real effort in.”

Coach Ruka grinned. “Please tell them that, they need to hear it. This team, they’ve gotten so used to losing that they just gave up entirely. They have fun and everyone says that that’s what counts. But I don’t think it would hurt to reignite some ambition!” She turned her attention away for a moment but seemed to remember something at the last minute. “Maybe while you teach them to take things more seriously, they can help you learn to play for fun. I don’t want you to make a chore of this.”

Azula nodded. But she did find it enjoyable, the prospect of being able to train a team from the ground up. It was something she didn’t get a chance to do with a group of girls who were so naturally talented. She spotted Zirin conversing with her little brother and her parents. Each of the girls seemed invested with their own families. It appeared that Chinami had a few friends in the crowd, Nagako among them. And for once, Azula had a family to talk to. She wandered over to them. “When did you get here?”

“Towards the middle.” Iroh answered. “I would have been here sooner if my tea kettle didn’t boil over.” He looked as though he were on the verge of tears. “I have not overcooked my tea in years.”

Zuko rolled his eyes. “It had to happen some time.” He turned to Azula. “I thought that you said you weren’t any good anymore.”

“Perhaps that was an exaggeration.” Azula replied. “Still, I’ve played much better in the past.”

“You did wonderful, dear.” Ursa pulled her into a tight hug.

“Mother, please.” She muttered.

Ursa let her go. “Sorry, I forgot that you don’t like hugs. Congratulations on your first game.” She handed Azula an armful of flowers. Teo and TyLee offered her two more small bouquets.

Though she hardly thought that she had put on a flower-worthy performance the sentiment was nice. “I am going to Zirin’s after game party. I might spend the night there.”

“Alright, just call me before bed. Just so I can sleep easy.” Ursa requested.

“Sure.” Azula replied.

She followed her team back to the bus. They were extra talkative this time around. They were in better spirits. Zirin slung her arm over Azula’s shoulder. “Azula says she’s going to help us win the next game.”

“I’m going to try.” Azula replied as Ikue decided to grace the rest of the team with her music. Wan High’s team had never done an on-bus sing along. Azula didn’t think she had ever cringed so hard in her life.  She had certainly never enjoyed doing so.

She certainly didn’t think that she would cave and sing a number with Zirin.

Their spunk tapered off towards the end of the bus ride, it was getting rather late and the energy spent in the game started to catch up. Shoko was out rather cold, snoring silently to herself. Ryoko and Ikue returned silently to their music and Chinami was nodding off.

Zirin continued to speak with her until she joined Shoko.

Left to her own thoughts, Azula pondered upon the game. All in all, she supposed it had gone pretty well. She wasn’t in condition for her jump serves nor her more advanced play strategies. But she hadn’t stumbled around and missed any defenses as she had thought she would.

Perhaps she hadn’t lost as much of her progress as she had anticipated. She just needed to brush up. She would have more than enough time to do that when she began weekend sessions with the other girls.

She tried to think about that instead of fretting over seeing Ozai again.

The bus pulled into the school parking lot. Chinami stretched and yawned before heading to her car.

“You haven’t been to my house yet.” Zirin noted. “It’s pretty close by here, just follow the rest of us.”

Once at Zirin’s home, Azula found a spot to lay her sleeping bag before joining the others in the kitchen. “My mom made cupcakes and we have chips and dip. Oh and, by Shoko’s request, we have brownies too.”

It all sounded enticing, but Azula opted to sit at the end of the table with only a cup of juice. She had eaten before the game.

“Don’t you want anything, Azula?” Zirin offered.

“I’m fine.” Azula replied.

“We just had our first game! Treat yourself, girl.”

Azula sighed. Treats weren’t in her meal plan. She supposed one that brownie couldn’t hurt, she’d just have to keep herself from eating the rest of them. She picked it up and took bite.

“Good right?” Shoko asked. “Zirin’s mom can cook.”

Azula nodded.

“Do you not like, sweets?” Chinami asked.

Azula thought of the question for a moment, deciding that she has known them long enough to just come out with the truth. “That’s, basically, the opposite of the problem.” She confessed. “I miss practices on Tuesday’s and Thursday’s to see a therapist for my bulimia.”  

.oOo.

Zuko was left to assume that Azula’s party had gone well, she was in a pretty good mood when she entered. Zuko was in a decent mood himself save for a bone deep tiredness. Jeong Jeong had prescribed him medication for insomnia, informing him that insomnia, depression, and irritability were all lingering withdrawal effects. Frankly, he couldn’t wait to be free of those.

He made his way into the bathroom and tugged of his shirt. His scars glared at him from within the mirror. He tried his hardest to keep his eyes from wandering to them, it was what Ozai had wanted when giving them to him; to give him a steady reminder of why and how he’d gotten them.

Slipping grades and a lack of natural academic skills. He’d only proven the man right in dropping out. He turned the shower knob and allowed the water to heat back up. It was fine, he told himself, next year he would be going for his GED. And then he could move onto college as he should have done this year.

He stepped into the shower and shampooed his hair.

He grabbed the bar of soap and lathered his body, taking care not to dwell on the ugly pockmarks on his arms. He hated them almost more than the scars his father gave him. At least the slashes on his torso and back were a sign of perseverance, and withstanding. The small indents on his arms, those were a display of weakness and failure. He wondered if he could find a cosmetic to make them less pronounced. He didn’t want his heroine abuse to be displayed so prominently; who would let a former heroin addict onto their campus?

He turned the water off, stepped onto the floor towel, and rubbed a different towel over his hair. He used it to dry the rest of him and then drape it around his waist. He peered at his phone just on time to see a text alert disappear.

He unlocked the phone, hoping that it was Hahn.

‘You ought not to meddle in things that have nothing to do with you.’ The number was a throw away one, but he had an inkling as to what name he could attach to it.

Like hell, the trial had nothing to do with him.

He wandered downstairs to see his sister putting a bowl in the sink.

“Hey, Azula?”

“Hmm?”

“Did you get any texts this morning?”

“Two.” Azula replied.

“What were they!?” He demanded.

“You’re intense today.” Azula replied. “Shoko is sending me memes and Katara told me that Sokka is stuck with a criminal record and community service...and that his daughter was born prematurely while he was on trial.”

Zuko blinked. “That family is having worse luck than ours.” It had been such a long time since he talked to any of them. The last time he’d seen Sokka was when the man was threatening to kick his ass for flirting with Katara during an off phase with Mai. It hadn’t been his proudest moment, especially considering how much he used to pester her for being a stony prude. His cheeks flushed. “I haven’t seen them since...you know.”

“Since you were a complete, jackass?” Azula smiled smugly.

He rolled his eyes. “Since when do you talk to Katara? Last time I checked, you were a jackass too.”

“True.” She replied. “Anyways, why did you ask about the texts.”

“You have your secrets, I have mine.” He wondered if it was safer to let her know about Ozai’s texts or to not give her an extra thing to worry about.

“That’s fair.” She shrugged.

.oOo.

Since the game, practices have been coming easily to her. She liked to think that she was getting back into the swing of things. School itself was going well enough. They had worked out a way to transfer her assignments seamlessly. On a few days she had lunch with Hakoda and a few of her other teachers doing mostly makeup assignments to pick her grades back up to where she wanted them. That Thursday she was back in the cafeteria with the rest of her team and Nagako.

“I keep forgetting to ask.” Ikue spoke up. “Was that your brother who came to our game?”

“Yes, why?” Azula replied between bites of food.

“He’s kind of cute.”

“And suddenly, I’m not hungry anymore.” Azula grumbled. “Luckily for you and I both, he’s taken.”

“Lucky?” Ikue asked.

“Zu-Zu is...he’s Zu-Zu.”

“Good to know.” Ryoko commented as the bell rang.

Zirin hustled to finish the last of her lunch. “I’ll see you girls at practice.” And to Azula. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow. Good luck with therapy.”

After her last class, Azula hurried to her locker. If she was quick enough she’d have enough time to stop at home and get a few assignments done before her appointment. She shut her locker and made her way to her car and to Ursa’s home. Her mother wasn’t home yet so she fixed herself a snack, something to hold her over until dinner time. She used to have snacks, so she’d allow herself one every once in a while. She wondered where Zuko had gone, perhaps to visit Hahn before his appointment. Azula had barely gotten a chance to put her food on the table before she received a text. Pulling out her assignments for the afternoon, she swiped at the screen.

She arranged the assignments from the most tedious to the least tedious and peered at her phone’s screen. It was a clips from her volleyball game. She hit play, hoping to see a recording of her scoring a point. Instead the clip rolled on to remind her of the point she’d let the other team score. It played in a loop, only interrupted by a new text alert. ‘It’s a shame. All of that wasted talent.’

Azula put her pencil down and swallowed.

The man wasn’t done with her. ‘You would probably be faster, more efficient, if you weren’t so heavy.’ She pushed her phone and her snack to the side and snatched up the most difficult of her assignments. It left little room to think about anything else. Not like the reading assignment, that allowed her mind to wander.

She was glad that she was alone.

.oOo.

Zuko tried to slip by as quietly as possible. Azula had never cried in front of him so openly, so he knew that she hadn’t noticed him yet. He didn’t know if he should put the fandom merch Hahn had given him away and return downstairs or if he should put it away and stay in his room. Comforting a venerable Azula seemed like a job for mother, but Ursa wasn’t home.

He rubbed his hands over his face. He had no idea what could even be bothering her, she was doing so well since her game.

His phone sounded, a welcomed distraction until he saw the nameless number. He caught only a glimpse before deleting the damn thing. ‘Street trash,’ ‘disappointment’, ‘worthless dropout’. It was nothing that he hadn’t heard before.

It was the sheer influx of these messages that was getting to him. Every time he blocked the number a new one would appear. Or the number would unblock itself. His father worked with electronics, of course he had the know-how and the resources.

Another text pushed him to approach Azula. He had a good feeling that she had gotten a message or two and he was starting to regret not warning her.

“Azula?”

She wasn’t crying so hard anymore.

“When did you get here?” She didn’t turn around.

“A while ago…” he trailed off. “I didn’t think that you wanted me to see…”

“You are correct.”

He looked at the clock, if anything they could finish their conversation in the car. “What did he say to you?”

“The same things he always says, Zu-Zu.”

“Yeah, he’s been doing the same to me. I tried not to look at them, but I’m pretty sure I got a death threat.”

“I was doing so good…” She mumbled more to herself.

“What do you mean?” In asking he hadn’t expected her to open up as much as she did. He hadn’t expected her to tell him that she didn’t want to go to her appointment because she didn’t want to have to tell Yue that she had thrown up again. “Did you do...that alot?” Was all he could ask.

“Almost daily.” She muttered.

“That’s why they sent you to therapy.” He said quietly.

“That’s part of it.”

“Part of it?”

“They took me away from him because I tried to…” She paused. “I tried to kill myself.”

His stomach lurched. While he was off doing drugs, she had tried to end her life. What kind of older brother was he?  No. What kind of father was Ozai to put the two of them in such places and to try to do it again. “I relapsed too.” Zuko tried. “And I didn’t even need Ozai’s help to do it.”

But he knew his sister well enough to know that even a minor relapse wasn’t acceptable. He didn’t know her well enough to know how to comfort her. “Why don’t we head to therapy, Yue can probably help better than I can.” He wished that it wasn’t true.

“Whose turn is it to drive?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Zuko replied. “I’ll drive.”

.oOo.

“One time isn’t going to set you back, Azula. Not unless you make it into a habit again.” Yue declared firmly. “Promise me that you won’t make this a regular occurance?”

Azula nodded. She did her best to keep eye contact.

Yue cupped her hand over Azula’s, “do you mind.”

Azula shook her head so Yue kept her hand in place.

“You’re handling this very well. There aren’t many people who broke the habit as fast as you have. I’m not that worried about you?”

“Why wouldn’t you be?”

“Because you didn’t try to keep your relapse a secret as some of my other clients have. I can tell that purging didn’t make you feel good, did it?”

“No.” She replied. “It didn’t.”

“Would you like to do it again?”

“Not particularly.” Azula replied.

“Do you want to tell me why you purged again?”

She found it hard, at first, to come out with it. But she decided to rip the band-aid. It was infinitely harder to admit to herself that all the guilt had come crashing down on her with Ozai’s simple message. That she felt bad for treating herself so many times, even if it was just an occasional, perfectly normal thing. The entire session was more uncomfortable than it had been in a long while. She left herself wondering why she had to be this way.

Azula appreciated Yue’s patience and the respect she still gave her. At least she could fall with some dignity. Yue let her go with a promise that she would eat a full dinner that night, perhaps with a desert if she was comfortable enough.

Ursa made it surprisingly easy to feel comfortable.

The woman served stake and ice cream. Azula tried not to think too much about when she was doing, in dipping her spoon into the ice cream. Her mother provided a solid enough distraction.

Her sheer outrage when both she and Zuko showed her the texts was almost comical.

“Just wait until your uncle hears about this.” She muttered to herself. “I swear.” She was pacing and making wild gestures and suddenly Azula knew exactly where Zuko had picked up on that habit. “I will find that man. Did I ever tell the two of you what drew your... ‘father’ to me in the first place?”

“No.” Zuko replied quietly.

“He met me in high school. I was in theater.” Azula couldn’t gauge where the woman was going with this. “He saw me on the stage and said that he had never seen such aggression and passion from one woman.” Ursa paused, leaving Azula and Zuko with enough time to exchange sideways glances.

Azula sucked at what remained of the ice cream on her spoon.

“That aggression was acting. He is about to see real aggression.” The woman sat back down. “Are the two of you enjoying desert?” She asked more cheerfully.

“Yeah, it’s great mom.” Zuko replied.

“Pretty good.” Azula agreed. A bit of an understatement. She did miss vanilla ice cream. She tried her hardest not to let Ozai make her feel bad for enjoying it. But it refused to leave the back of her mind. The trial was in two days and she was going to have to see him in person having made no progress…

No visible progress, she reminded herself.

She had made a lot of progress otherwise.

“Do you want to stay in my room tonight?” Zuko offered.

“What?”

“Like when we were kids. When we heard dad and mom arguing, you used to sleep on the floor…”

“I’m already seeing a problem there.”

Zuko rolled his eyes. “Fine, I can stay in your room and sleep on the floor and it will be sort of like old times.”

“Better.” Azula replied. “Alright, you can stay in my room tonight.” She could use the company. If her thoughts became too much, she could pester him about how his date with Hahn went.

She dressed herself for bed and handed the bathroom over to Zuko, not quite understanding why he just couldn’t use one of the other bathrooms. She had herself draped in blankets when her phone buzzed. She almost didn’t want to look at it, but she picked it up anyhow.

‘So, how many ass-kissing points do I earn if I beat your dad up?’

Azula sighed, wondering what her father was up to on the social media pages to draw Chan’s attention. ‘Depends’, Azula replied, ‘how and when are you beating him up?’

‘I don’t know...honestly, he’d probably kick my ass. But I’d try if it makes up for anything.’

‘Go to bed, Chan.’ Azula rolled her eyes and set her phone to the side. She hated when he did stupid things like that, things that made her remember how things were before her accident. Things that made her smile when she didn’t want to.

Not that she wasn’t going to make him grovel and beg a little more.

Zuko entered the room. “You feeling any better?”

“I’ll be fine, Zu-Zu.” At the very least, she would be eventually.

.oOo.

Zuko eyed Azula curiously. She stood with her head held high, looking for all the world, as if she had no fears at all. She held her hands behind her back, the red power suit and heels worked very heavily in her favor to annunciate a confidence she may or may not have. Mother stood closely next to her as they ran through the opening statements.

For himself, Zuko was dreadfully nervous. He liked to think that his suit was just as sharp as Azula’s and that is posture was as rigid and ready. He didn’t think that Ozai stood much of a chance now that Ursa had financial stability. And even less of a chance with the files Jeong Jeong had given him on Thursday. Yue’s presence wasn’t going to do him any favors either.

Zuko let his gaze fall on Ozai. The man met his eyes and gave a smile with all the friendliness of a vampire. The man had even styled his beard for the occasion. Not that Zuko hadn’t done some self grooming of his own. The man looked eerily like Azula in his manner and he thought that Azula might be trying to outshine him...to out intimidate him.

But she was still Azula and he was still Ozai. Azula had warmth in her that Ozai did not, Zuko knew that Ozai could detect it through her cold demeanor. Zuko listened in on their verbal exchange, finding that Azula was every bit as slick as her father. Every bit as smooth and undeterred in her speech. He only knew that she was nervous because she had mentioned it in passing some hours prior.

“Is it true, Mr. Kasai, that, at one point, you had put locks on the fridge?” The judge asked.

“I have.” Ozai confessed. “But not for the reasons you think.”

Of course the man would lie under oath.

“What reasons could you possibly have for doing so?”

“I have locks for everything, your honor. The fridge was no different. People want what I have. Should someone successfully enter my estate and steal from me, I would at least like to have a meal while thinking things over.”

The plaintiff attorney spoke. “Would you like to tell us when you had the locks installed?”

“I do not recall the exact date.” Ozai spoke. “It is a trivial matter.”

“Can you tell us when he had them installed?” The judge addressed Azula.

“The night after Halloween. November first of this year.” She paused. “I had gone to a party and binged. It was posted on social media. My father had happened upon it and instilled locks afterward.”

Zuko was surprised at how smoothly, how unwaveringly she recounted it. As though it didn’t bother her even slightly.

“By ‘binged’, you mean…?”

“I am bulimic.” Azula replied. “I have a therapist.” She motioned to Yue.

“The courtroom would like to hear from her.” The judge replied as she gave Yue a quick once over. “But first I would like to know what led you to see a therapist and what has prompted your case of bulimia.”

“I had an accident over the summer. It caused some weight gain.”

Zuko hoped that he could be that forward when making his statement.

“Between my father and a few of my peers, I decided that I wanted to lose it quickly. Things weren’t going as I wanted them to. I was hoping for fast results. Father was expecting them. But I wasn’t able to get them. He would make remarks and the like and I would try harder. I would refuse food until I couldn’t anymore. And when I couldn’t resist, I would sneak meals. Halloween was one such time.” She paused. “The morning after, he pulled me out of my room--I hadn’t finished dressing--and made me weigh myself. He installed locks that night. And I overdosed later that week. That is why I started therapy and why I was placed under my mother’s care.”

“On what day, did you make your attempt, Mrs. Kasai?”

“Wednesday, the 4th of November.” Azula answered. “I have documentation.”

“I would like to see it.”

A few hours into the dialogue, the conversation turned to him, “is it true, that a few years ago CPS came to the estate regarding you?”

“Yes.” Zuko confirmed. “Uncle...my uncle, Iroh, called them.” Taking a page from Azula’s script he added, “I have documentation of it. Along with the rest of my profile.”  He passed the files Jeong Jeong had acquired for him. As the judge looked it over he continued. “He has been abusing me since I was around eleven years old. I think, maybe even earlier than that.”

“You have a history of running away?” The judge looked up.

“To escape from this.” He lifted his shirt some.

Ozai scowled. “The result of a car accident.”

“Objection, your honor.” Spoke their attorney. “The only record we have of a car accident involving the Kasai family is one that had been thoroughly examined and proven false. There are, however, reports from neighbors and psychologists, of domestic violence and child abuse. Mrs. Kasai has a restraining order filed against her former husband.”

“One I willingly gave her.” Ozai cut in.

The judge bangs her gavel once. “Wait your turn, Mr. Kasai.”

Zuko caught Azula’s eye. Something about her composed posture comforted him. Something about her expression, leaves him feeling more secure.

And he recalled that this was how she looked at him just before Ozai jumped in and took her side in an argument. How she looked before scoring a winning point.

He held his head higher when the judge came back to him, because Azula knew that they were going to win. And because she was so sure, he was as well.

When they did win, he could finally move forward.

All three of them could.

As a family.

Unburdened and unhaunted by a common tormentor.

He would have a real chance to thrive. He and Azula both.

[rocksinmuffin]

F.A.Q.

So, after being an unorganized ask blog for forever, finally making an F.A.Q.

How do I know if requests are open?

Whenever I open or close requests, I make sure to update my blog header, the description under my header, and the message that shows when people go into my ask box. If they say the sinbox/requests are open, they’re open. If it says they’re closed, they’re closed. It’s that simple.

Additionally, I usually give at least a 24 hour warning before requests open and provide the date and time-frame until they will close. I then make a post the second they open and then the second they close.

Please make sure you do not send in a request when they are closed. Any requests sent when requests are closed will be deleted and you will need to wait until they are open before you may make the request again.

When will requests open again?

That depends entirely on how long it takes me to get through my current amount of requests. I keep a sin count in the description under my blog header that I typically update around every week or two so people can have an idea of how many more I need to work through. If you see I have several hundred requests, that means it’s going to be a while before I open the sinbox for people to send in more. I ask that you please be patient with me. I’m just one person answering all of these requests on my own.

Can I send in a request when they are closed for you to keep and answer when they are open again?

No. Mostly because having requests pile in my inbox even when I’ve closed them gives me anxiety but also because it defeats the purpose of closing requests if they can just be sent in anyway.

What fandoms do you write?

Too many to list here. I write pretty much any fandom I’m familiar with. Below is a link including a list of fandoms I will write, followed by a list of fandoms I won’t write, each in alphabetical order. If you are interested in a fandom and it’s on neither list, feel free to ask! I’ll do my best to keep the list up to date.

https://rocksinmuffin.tumblr.com/post/185396310953/will-i-wont-i-masterlist

Do you answer requests in the order you get them?

No, not really. I tend to answer requests based solely on what I’m first inspired to write. This ensures that the blog is kept active because I don’t waste time on a prompt if I can’t think of anything for it. I just move on to the next one and return to that request once I am inspired. It might seem a little unfair, but take into consideration that every request I have was sent within hours of one another. No matter what, some people are going to have to wait a long time, but at least this way someone gets their request answered.

Is there anything you won’t write?

The only big no-no’s I can think of are pedophilia, incest, bestiality and snuff. There might be more but, as of right now, I can’t think of any. And, as far as kinks go, it takes a lot to gross me out so I’m willing to write for some kinks that are out there even if it’s not my personal kink.

Additionally, I will not be accepting NSFW requests of aged-up characters; by which I mean that I won’t age a character up to write porn if they have only ever been a child/minor in canon. I have done so in the past but the older I get, the more uncomfortable it makes me personally to do so.

I also will not write Real Person Fiction. Fictional characters only.

Regardless, if I receive any request that makes me uncomfortable, even if it’s not listed above as something I won’t write, I reserve the right to delete the request.

Do you only write reader inserts? Can I make a request for a non reader insert?

For the most part, I just write reader-insert. It’s what I prefer. I have done a couple canon character x canon character requests before so it’s not a flat-out no but I definitely prefer writing reader-inserts and am much more comfortable writing them.

However, while I might write for canon characters, I do not take requests for writing a canon character with someone else’s OC.

Does it count as a request if I ask your opinion on something?

Not necessarily. If you ask me something like, who’s my favorite underappreciated Autobot and why, that doesn’t require any creative writing from me and is totally cool to ask when requests are closed since you’re pretty much just giving me an excuse to rant. As long as what you’re asking doesn’t require any creative writing on my part, I’m more likely to answer it and less likely to consider it a request and delete it.

I do request that you not ask me about drama, politics, or personal advice outside of writing. I like to keep things chill and drama-free on this blog and the last thing anyone needs is for the person who wrote about Dinobot eating ass to make a political statement on a smut blog. Additionally, I’ve had people ask me for medical, mental health, and legal advice in the past and, as much as I am flattered that you come to me for help, I am not qualified for that kind of stuff.

Can I submit my stories/art to this blog?

Absolutely! I’m always excited to see the creative works you guys make. All I ask is that you not submit something that you yourself did not make.

Now that the blog is no longer marked as explicit, it should allow for anonymous submissions. However, if you have trouble submitting anonymously or just aren’t sure if you’re submitting anonymously, just let me know somewhere in the body of the submission and I will post it separately and indicate it was submitted by anonymous.

However, if you are submitting something that you are also posting on your own blog, I would be happy to just reblog your art/story from your page instead of repost your work. Just reach out to me and I can do that instead; that way you get all the notes for your work.

Can I draw fanart/write a fic based off something you’ve written on this blog?

Yes! Anything I’ve written is fair game. And please @ me if you do because I would love to see it!

This goes for art/fics of my OCs/fan characters—like Coldcut—too. I love to see what you guys make and I’m always happy to see your characters interacting with mine.

I’m a new fandom/writing/art blog open for requests. Can I get a shoutout?

Yes, I am happy to give a promo for people who want one. And since my requests are closed 99% of the time, I’m sure my followers appreciate the blog recommendations. :)

Can you please tag your posts with ____?

Yes, if there is something you need tagged then you can let me know and I will do my best to accommodate. I may not reply directly to your request—especially if sent by anon—but the few times I’ve been asked to tag a post with something, I have. I try to proactively tag sensitive material that is obvious, but not everything is obvious to me.

All I ask is that you please be polite when making these requests. I am willing to do my best to make the blog a safer place for you so I do ask you extend that same courtesy to me.

Why can’t I find a certain post in your search bar?

Ever since Tumblr changed its terms of service regarding mature content, the search bar has been coded to automatically filter out mature content from showing up in a search. SFW content will still pull but NSFW content is hidden. The posts are still here on my blog, but you can’t rely on my search bar.

There are ways to get around it. If you go through my blog and click directly on a tag that you want (ex, a character’s name, a particular fandom) nsfw posts still show and you can find it that way. Additionally, if you are on a web browser instead of using the mobile app you can type https://rocksinmuffin.tumblr.com/tagged/(whatever-tag-you-are-searching-for) and that will pull all content with that tag including nsfw posts.

EDIT: Tumblr has changed the way the urls work so now, when searching a tag that is more than one word, you need to put %20 between each word instead of dashes. Example: https://rocksinmuffin.tumblr.com/tagged/whatever%20tag%20you%20are%20searching

Please attempt these workarounds before asking me to find a fic. I’m pretty good about tagging for series and characters and whenever you guys ask me I literally just find it by doing one of the above listed workarounds.

If something ever happens to this blog, is there another place we can find you?

Sure. If, for whatever reason this blog gets deleted, you can find me at Archive Of Our Own under my original username Rockinmuffin. Obviously, due to the nature of the site, I wouldn’t upload every little thing I’ve posted, but I could use it as a back-up to post some of the more detailed requests I’ve answered. https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rockinmuffin

And while I won’t post any writing on Twitter for obvious reasons, you can still catch me shitposting there as @NotRockinmuffin.

Are you open for writing commissions?

Not at this time. It’s not that I don’t want to because I absolutely love the idea of being paid to write. It’s just that I’m a little iffy about the idea of accepting money in exchange for writing about characters who are not my legal property. Last thing I need right now is to get in trouble with the law because I accepted money in exchange for writing about Optimus Prime’s dick. Maybe I’ll be open to it one day, but not at this time, and likely not for fandom commissions.

I enjoy your writing. Is there a way I can show my support?

Honestly, just knowing you guys like my work is more than enough, however, I do have a kofi page if you would like to donate. Your support is not necessary as I do this mostly for fun but it is still very much appreciated. You can donate at my page by clicking the link below.

https://ko-fi.com/rocksinmuffin

Is your username rocks-in-muffin or rock-sin-muffin?

It’s rock-sin-muffin since this is my sin blog, though I usually pronounce it like rock and sin are one word. My username that I’ve had forever since I was 12 is rockinmuffin (pronounced rockin’ muffin) if that helps explain it.

What can we call you?

Well, if you’re sending me an ask/message you don’t technically have to call me anything since you’re already talking to me, but if you really feel the need to address me by name, any variation of my username is fine. Rock, sin, muffin, etc. My legal name is Maria so feel free to use that too. I don’t care all that much what you call me, though I do ask that people please no longer call me mom/sinmom. I’ve allowed it in the past but I really don’t want to be associated with fandom moms and their whole bag because they’re nasty.

What if I call you sinmom (or any variation of that) anyway?

At this point, I’ve addressed it several times and it’s been in the FAQ for a long enough time that I am going to ignore it. If you send me an ask with sinmom in it, it’s getting deleted without being answered. That goes for requests too. You might find people calling me that in the backlog of old posts but I am not going to encourage it by posting anything new where I am called that.

And that’s all for now. If I think of anything else, I will update this post. :)

[anneimaginesundertale]

Rules

(Edited 1-5-2024)

General Rules:

Be kind!

Please don’t tease real people. Please don’t send asks about real people and their feelings about the skeletons.

Be patient. I can run a little slow sometimes, and sometimes I make goofy mistakes (typos and such).

Keep things PG-13! I know there are readers here who are under 18, and I’m just more comfortable with that limit anyways.

There are no “claims” on characters. Each character is open to a relationship with as many people as like them. (In other words, no one has called dibs on any of the fellas.)

Please let me know if you have a problem. I promise I don’t bite. My inbox and my dms are always open.

What I will write:

Head canons, reactions/imagines, drabbles, character asks, story asks and hug requests for: 

Active AUs: Undertale, Underswap, Underfell, Swapfell, Horrortale, G!bros, Mobtale

Inactive AUs (availble if you really want them but not generally in the rotation; will return for hugs): Mafiafell, Outertale, Dancetale, Oceantale, Farmtale

Basic Story: The Best of All Timelines (for more info, check the master post HERE)

Dreamscape AUs: Fairy tale, future city, mob, enchanted forest, and wild west AUs, which include alternate fantasy versions of the AUs above. These exist in a “dreamscape” VR game the skeletons have created. Info about these AUs can be found HERE.

I will also write DRABBLES or HEADCANONS about: Frisk, Asriel/Flowey, Chara, Toriel, Sans, Papyrus, Undyne, Alphys, Mettaton, Asgore, Napstablook, Grillby, Muffet, and Gaster. (The exceptions here ARE Horrortale and the G!bros, where several of those characters (i.e. Asgore) are no longer around.)

Friendship, SFW romance, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort

S/O reader characters paired with any of the adult characters

Honorary sibling reader characters paired with any of the characters (even the kiddos on this one)

Canon pairings (i.e. Alphys/Undyne, Toriel/Asgore, etc.) 

What I will NOT write: 

Minor characters (i.e. Tsundereplane, Froggit, Jerry, Temmie; ask if you’re not sure what this includes)

Romance with any of the child characters

NSFW romance

Excessive gore or graphic violence/abuse

Nonconsensual romance

Fontcest/selfcest

**Roleplay in general** -- this is a puppet show that I'm performing, not a play we're both in (if that makes sense)

Know what you’re requesting: 

Head canon – my thoughts on a certain character or event.  Limited to 1 character or event at a time. For example, you could ask what I think happened to Undertale Gaster, but not all the Gasters at once.  

Reactions/Imagines – My thoughts on how the characters would react to a certain situation.  I will accept up to 4 characters for these.

Drabbles – Give me 1 character and a prompt or a scenario and I’ll write you a short story about what might happen. 

Character Asks — Ask a question (i. e. do you like radishes, Papyrus?) to any of my characters and I will reply in character. (i.e. I DO! THEY ARE CRUNCHY! DO YOU LIKE THEM, HUMAN? 😁) The character limit on these is currently 4 characters per question and are limited to one ask and one response. **These are not roleplay asks.**

**Story Asks** NEW 2024! -- Ask about what's going on in the Best of All Timelines world right now! For example, you could ask Boss how his job is going, or ask Sweets how his kids are. These asks will be "canon" to the Best of All Timelines story. **These are not roleplay asks!**

Hug Requests -- All the boys love to give hugs. If you're having a bad day (or a good day) and you just need somebody to hug you and give a little reassurance, send an ask. If you don't have a favorite skeleton, Sweets, Blue, Papyrus, and Rus are always on standby for hugs. **These are not roleplay asks.**

You're always free to ask questions about anything in the rules. The inbox is always open and while it might take me some time to get to your ask, I'll get to it. 😊