#i spent so much time flying with her keeping her company in the game T^T

[jubileegeode]

Zelda TOTK spoilery fanart ahead!!! Please finish the geoglyph questline before proceeding!

Protect them all! T^T

And a horned alt!

[duskholland]

The Fame Game (Part Eight) - Tom Holland

Summary ↠ Time is ticking, and Tom can’t quite comes to term with it.

Warnings ↠ Angst, Tom is really stupid, nsfw smut scenes (as in part six, it’s outlined with line breaks so you can avoid it if you want). 

Word count ↠ 5.7k

A/N ↠ Yikes.

EIGHT: Time Is Ticking (T)

Tom’s back in LA, and he’s missing you. 

It’s been a while since he’s seen you. Several weeks, since he’d flown over to New York for fashion week. He’d had a great time, and owes a lot to your team for allowing him the opportunity of walking the carpets by your side. As much as he’d tried to understand the world of high-fashion, Tom hadn’t quite grasped the point of watching a line of identical models strut down the catwalk in obscure outfits, but he knows he’d sit through it all again if you were at his side. Tom knows he’d do almost anything for you.

It’s hard, now. There’s less than a month left before your relationship is dismantled by PR. In order to stir up some doubt about the status of your union, Tom’s under strict instruction he’s not allowed to interact with you publicly anymore. No Instagram stories, no tweets. No tagging you in his favourite memes because the fans would see it. And of course, Tom just sends the memes through DMs, but it’s different. It’s different, and it feels like hiding, and he hates this feeling of impending doom.

Tom is being crushed by the weight of what’s to come, and he really, really does not want your relationship to come to an end. 

“Chin up, moody. Wouldn’t want the wind to change direction and leave you stuck like that.”

Tom grimaces, looking up to see Harrison grinning at him, a brightness in his eyes that makes Tom bristle. He’s so deep within his brooding that the sight of someone feeling so happy makes him annoyed.

“Shut up,” he mutters, bringing up a lazy hand to flip him off. “You’re such a bully, Harrison.”

Harrison rolls his eyes. “Would a bully fly all the way to LA, just to keep you company?” He replies.

Tom snorts. “You’re my assistant, Harrison.” He smirks. “Why don’t you be a good one, and run off and make me some tea, eh?” 

“Oh, you’re a twat.” Harrison hesitates, but then much to Tom’s amusement, he stands from the sofa and stretches out his arms. “I will make tea,” he says, “But only because I want some too.” 

“Whipped.”

Harrison turns around when he reaches the doorway, raising an accusing eyebrow. “Rich coming from you, Tom.” 

Tom doesn’t particularly want to linger on that, so responds by lying down over the large sofa and yawning as he pulls a blanket over his figure. He’s staying in a large rented house in Hollywood, working on his new film. It’s a rare day off, which means he’s spending his time getting harassed by Harrison and trying not to let his thoughts descend down same rabbit hole he’s been circling since he realised how near your relationship’s expiration date is.

Tom hates feeling powerless. He hates that there’s no way out of this. It’s not like he can ask to extend the contract - what right would he have to do that? He’s sure you’ll be eager to get back into the dating game, keen to leave him behind. The arrangement has done so much for your image already, Tom’s almost certain you’ll be out of it the moment you can. But he’ll miss you, and he’ll miss openly tagging you in memes and watching the fans coo over your relationship, and he’ll miss walking down red carpets with his hand on your lower back. He’ll miss you beyond anything he could comprehend, and that thought is truly terrifying.

“A tea, for Mr Hollywood.” Harrison reappears, carrying two mugs of steaming brews. Tom smiles, looking up from the sofa to watch as his friend clumsily places one of them down on the coffee table, a line of brown liquid spilling over the top.

“You spilt a bit just there,” Tom points out, grinning mischievously when Harrison snarls at him. 

“Anyone ever told you that you’re a proper wanker?”

Tom laughs as Harrison sits down on the edge of his sofa, pushing Tom’s feet off the cushions. “I’ve heard that once or twice, yeah,” he replies, thinking of you, and you, and you.

Tom can’t stop thinking about you.

There’s a few moments of silence, and Tom can feel Harrison gearing up to say something. He has that perplexed expression on his face - his eyebrows pulled together, eyes shifting around almost guiltily. 

“Are you okay?” Harrison asks, after what feels like an eternity of watching him open and close his mouth. “You’ve been a bit… stressed, recently.”

Tom shrugs, finally sitting up so he can start drinking his tea. “I am stressed.” His fingers go to the bridge of his nose. “Everything’s so messed up.” 

“With Y/N?” 

Tom shrugs haplessly. “I’m not allowed to see her.” 

Neither of you had known that the last time you’d be seen together, happily, would’ve been a restaurant date last week. Tom hadn’t known as he’d pulled out your chair that it’d be the last time he’d perform the action, hadn’t known as he’d played footsie with you under the table that it’d be the last time he’d make you laugh. Management plan to reunite you in four weeks for your ‘break up’, but the circumstances then will be far different to the night you’d spent together, drinking wine, dining fine, and holding hands across the table. Tom would have done so many things differently if he’d known that would’ve been the last chance he’d had to kiss you.

Harrison raises his eyebrows. “You’re not allowed to be seen with her,” he corrects. When Tom looks at him blankly, Harrison reaches out to hit at his knee. “Mate, you’ve got a day off today. What’s stopping you from seeing her?” 

Tom blinks a few times. “But… They said we aren’t allowed to.”

“And? Fuck them. We can work something out.”

Tom takes a sip of his tea, looking up at Harrison over the brim. “Love you, bro.” 

In the end, it turns out to be a lot more complicated than either Tom or Harrison had anticipated. The house they’re renting is tucked up in an exclusive part of the Hills, and the gates are always lined with paparazzi. If they were to spot you entering the district, it’d be reported that the two of you were on perfect terms, violating PR’s golden rule. 

So, Harrison goes out in his car, picks you up, and makes you hide in the backseat when you go past the gates. Tom stays behind, but he’s there to greet you when you fall out the back of the car, grimacing and stretching out your sore muscles. You’re in a pair of sunglasses and there’s large hoodie pulled up over your head, and you light up when you see him. 

“Hey,” you greet, hobbling over to Tom. You press your lips to his cheek, and the touch makes him smile. 

“Hi, darling.” One of Tom’s hands goes to your shoulder, and the other pulls down your hood and pushes up your sunglasses before he has time to really think about it. He just wants to see your pretty eyes again, and his heart softens when you blink up at him, smiling warmly. “Sorry about Haz. I hope it wasn’t too uncomfortable for you.”

You roll your eyes, turning around to look at where Harrison’s sitting in the front of the car. Seeing both of you staring, he waves sheepishly.

“It was alright,” you say. “I mean, hurt a bit. He made me hide in the footwell. But it should be worth it.” You smile up at Tom, almost shyly, rocking back on your feet. “Harrison’s going out for a few hours, but he said he’d take me back home afterwards. So…” You trail off, stepping a little closer. Tom’s breath hitches as your hands wind around his neck, and all he can focus on is the scent of your sweet perfume. “What are we going to do?”

Tom starts off by giving you a grand tour of the house. You gasp and coo as he guides you around, and you don’t shake off his hand when he slips your fingers together - in fact, you only seem to sink further into him, leaning into Tom’s arm, cheek on his shoulder. Tom loves the feeling of you so close again, but it messes with his head. There is turmoil wrestling in his heart, and it’s growing worse by the second.

“So, that’s the place,” he finally says. You’ve finished up the tour in the kitchen, and you’ve made yourself at home sitting on the polished marble counter. Tom watches as you swing your feet, your customised converse hitting off the cabinets. “What do you think?” 

He doesn’t know where to stand, what to do, where to look. There’s a hot flush at the back of his neck, and Tom finds himself nervously standing back against the cupboards across from you, trying his best to meet your eyes. He doesn’t know why he’s finding it so hard to look at you, but the tightness in his chest is almost painful. It’s as if his body knows that heartbreak is inevitable, and it’s trying to do everything in his power to rebel against it. 

“Pretty swanky,” you reply. “The bachelor pad to rival all bachelor pads.” You stretch out your hands, looking at Tom curiously. “Why are you so far away?” You ask, almost a whine. “Are you hiding from me?”

Tom realises he’s cowering in the corner of the kitchen and makes a very conscious effort to loosen up. When he sees you’ve still got your hands outstretched, he moves forwards and takes them, linking up your fingers and hoping you can’t feel his sweaty palms. 

“Just…” Tom trails off, trying to sort through his feelings. You roll your thumbs over his knuckles, and he settles between your legs, pressing up against the counter as he tries to decide which of his emotions he should part with, and which he should keep close to his chest. You bring one of his hands to your mouth, and Tom’s breath hitches as you kiss gently over his knuckles, looking up at him with warm eyes. “I’m glad I could see you again,” he says slowly, a little distracted by the way you’re continuing to kiss his hands, over and over. “I wasn’t sure we’d be able to meet up again, before the breakup.”

You hum, finally moving his fingers from your mouth. You drop his hands, and Tom rests his palms on your knees. In return, you drape your fingers over his shoulders. 

“Yeah,” you agree, voice quiet. “I’m glad, too.”

There’s silence between you, and Tom can feel your mutual despondence. It’s hard to put into words the feeling, but in your eyes is a weakened sadness he can feel in his heart, heavy and unrelenting.

“Hey.” He squeezes at your knee, and your lips quirk into a slight smile. “At least we have today, yeah?”

“Mm, true.” You seem to shuffle around on the counter, pulling Tom a little nearer. It’s so easy, how you’ve got your arms draped around his neck, your fingers playing with the tips of his hair. Tom stays still as you bring one hand up to his face, tapping with a few fingertips over the warm skin of his forehead. “What’s going on up here? You seem a little off.”

Tom’s smile becomes forced. Of course you, like Harrison, have picked up on his turmoil. You’ve always been able to see right through him.

“Just thinking.” When you raise an eyebrow, Tom bottles it. He can’t talk to you about it. Not when it involves a conversation to do with feelings that will become redundant and unnecessary in four weeks. Your fates are sealed, so what’s the point opening up when doing so will ruin your last day together? “Thinking about how beautiful you are, love. Did I tell you how lovely you look today?”

You seem to like that. Tom smiles genuinely as you bite your lower lip, your hand slipping down to cup his face. He’s so close to you, he can almost count your eyelashes. 

“I know you’re just saying that to change the subject, but I appreciate it anyway.” You pause, your eyes alight with something Tom can’t quite place. “You have so many freckles, Tom,” you add, thumb passing over his cheek. “They’re pretty.”

“Thanks,” he replies, voice softer. There’s a warmth in his face, spiralling out from each point of contact, and Tom can’t stop looking at your lips. He wants to kiss you, just for a moment. Just a moment of your lips together, light and easy, like always. He craves it. “Can I kiss you?”

A small smile breaks out across your face, and you nod quickly. “You don’t need to ask, Tom. I like kissing you.”

Tom’s cheeks are hot and his throat feels dry, but he nods. “Okay,” he says. It’s a little awkward now, but you share a laugh, and he knows you feel some of the discomfort in the air. Tom clears his throat, and then closes his eyes, leaning in.

You kiss, slowly, but it isn’t light and easy like he’d wanted. There is no escape from the turmoil in his heart. Tom’s hands slip up to your waist, resting on the curves of your figure as your lips move together, but the whole time you’re connected, Tom feels at odds, conflict rife in his chest. Part of him wants to kiss you forever, but another wishes he’d never touched your lips because he knows he’ll need to pull away in a few hours, and that’ll be the end. He wishes he’d never known how nice it was to feel your lips on his because the pain of knowing he’ll never feel them again is like a sledgehammer to the heart. 

“Loosen up, Tom,” you murmur, your mouths still together. You pull away, pressing your forehead to his, and Tom feels you run your hands through his hair. You smell of sweet flowers. “You’re thinking too much.”

He chuckles, the sound coming out through his teeth. Tom tries to unclench his jaw and takes a moment to look at you. He tries to compartmentalise, tries to sort through his feelings, and shelf some of them for a few hours. He doesn’t want to spend your last day together worrying over the future - he wants to spend it wrapped up in you.

“You always know what I need,” Tom murmurs. He smiles at you, and this time it’s easier.

“I try my best,” you respond, your lips mirroring his. Tom kisses you again, and his arms curl around you properly this time. You sink into him, your hands slipping down to hold his back as you push yourself closer. It grows heated quickly, and Tom feels you whine into his mouth when he drags his tongue along your lower lip, his body humming to life with dazzling electricity as he tries to drink it all in. Drink you all in.

“Mm, Tom.” You pull back, breathless, and Tom notes with a smirk that your pretty lips are puffy and inflamed. Your eyes dance with lust, and Tom jumps as you reach down and slip your hands beneath his shirt. Your fingers are warm against his skin, and Tom lets you pull him nearer. “G’nna miss kissing you,” you admit, murmuring. “I love kissing you.” You pause, and Tom’s heart is in his throat. “I love your lips, too. And your hair.” You lean in, kissing Tom’s cheek before nuzzling your face against his head. Your hands drop away from Tom’s back, and he holds you in a tight hug, his eyes watching the way you turn away from him as you bury your face in his chest. “I love your hugs as well.”

“Seems like you love a lot of things about me.” His voice is weak, slightly clipped. 

“I do.” 

“Funny, isn’t it?” Tom’s still hoarse, his voice failing him. 

“What?” You peel away from his chest to look at him, eyes wide. He sees insecurity floating around in your gaze, and he feels a little like he’s shattered you. “What’s funny?”

Tom gulps. “Just, uh, how much things have changed.” He shifts his hands up to your face, cupping your cheeks and trying to coax a smile back onto your face. “Wouldn’t have thought we’d be capable of feeling anything other than hate towards one another. Crazy how a few months can change so much.”

You’re scrunching up your nose, a line forming between your eyebrows. “Well, I suppose.” Your softer tone has gone, replaced by a more rigid sense of finality. Tom gets the very prominent feeling that he’s somehow managed to ruin a special moment, and he fumbles to correct his mistake.

“Anyway,” he mutters. He inhales, and on the exhale, his lips twist back into a slightly suggestive smirk. You sit up straighter, clearing your throat as you toss out your hair and move your hands back to his waist. “I don’t think we were finished kissing, were we?”

Somehow you end up in the living room, kissing, and kissing, and kissing. Tom feels sixteen again, full of teenage jitters and nervous hands. His palms are sweaty and he can feel the flush on his cheeks, but you don’t seem to care.

**** sfw has left the chat ****

No, you seem perfectly content exactly where you are - which just so happens to be half-naked, laid out over the curves of Tom’s sofa. Somewhere between the kitchen and the bedroom, he’d suggested you bunker down and take a break on the couch, which had spiralled into this: you, bare from the waist down, in only a lacy bra up top, legs spread as Tom burrows himself between your thighs. His hands are on your hips, holding you down as he runs his tongue through your slit, moaning as he watches you unravel above him.

It’d escalated quickly. What had been a few eager kisses in the kitchen had surged to something far greater, and the second Tom had pulled at your waistband and heard you whine in response, he’d been fucked. He’d decided, after the last one night stand, that he’d never take on this activity with you again - not without clearing the air and figuring out which page you were on, but… Well, he couldn’t help himself. What was he supposed to do, stop with his tongue on your clit to ask you if you’d like to dissect the ins and outs of your relationship? As if.

But he knows he has to. Knows it in his bones. Tom is only too aware that today is the last chance he has to make things clear to you, and he’s finally resolved that he’s not going to blow that chance. He just might stall the conversation with a few orgasms first, though.

“Fuck,” you whine. Your hands are buried in his curls as you guide his movements, and Tom lets you use him as a prop. He’s learning your body, mapping you out with his hands and his mouth, and he’s delighted to slip two fingers into your wet heat and feel you cry out in pleasure. “Shit, shit, shit, shit.”

Tom hums, his mouth sucking around your clit. Sounds of your arousal fill the air as he fucks his fingers into you, opening your passage until you’re moaning.

“Tom, Tom.” Your voice is like music to his ears. The loveliest sound, lilted like an angel. He brings his gaze up in response, and Tom feels his cock twitch as he takes in the sweaty glow on your face, the lust in your eyes. “So- so good, fuck.” Your breath hitches and Tom hums against your cunt. “Wait, wait, I don’t- No, I don’t want to cum like this.” You’re pulling at his curls, and Tom immediately pulls away, letting his fingers draw back from your entrance. “Don’t look so worried,” you add, voice breathless, “Just wanna cum with you inside me.”

“Oh.” Tom’s head spins as you pull him above you, and he lets you drag off his shirt. As you run your fingers over his chest, he lets a small curse fall past his lips. “Not got any condoms in here, love,” he mutters. “I’ll have to go and find some.”

To his surprise, you follow him as Tom stands from the sofa, your hand slipping into his. Your other goes up to his mouth, and Tom laughs as you wipe the mix of spit and arousal from his lips before leaning in to kiss him, tenderly. Your mouth lingers on his for a moment, and Tom smiles at you.

“Lead the way, movie star.”

After cursing you out a fair amount, Tom leads you up through the large house. He has to stop every few moments, overcome with a giddy desire to kiss you or run his fingers through your hair, or just look at you, and as he lays you down on his bed and boxes you in with his arms, he feels a deep swell of appreciation for you. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he mutters, speaking beneath his breath. Tom groans as you spread your legs and shuffle down the bed, and you push his hips until he’s settled between your thighs, his cock pressing up against your entrance. Tom’s head dips down, and he can’t quite look at your face as he scatters his lips across your collarbones. “I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

“Oh, shush,” you say, giggling when Tom playfully nips at your skin. You’re running your hands over his back. “I’m lucky.” You twist some of your fingers into his hair, and Tom knows exactly what you want. 

“Are you ready?” He asks, drawing a line up to your ear with his lips. Tom’s already taken the time marking up your neck, has enjoyed hearing your small whimpers of enjoyment as he’d staked his claim over the column of your throat, disregarding all the warnings from PR. Your voice like honey, mewling for him. He loved hearing those sounds. 

“Yes.”

You come together, your figures intertwining as Tom fills you with one slow thrust. He grabs your hands, linking your palms together as he grunts, setting a pace that has your eyes rolling back. It isn’t fast by any means, but there’s purpose behind his actions, an innate desire to please you. He pays close attention to the movements of your body: the gyration of your hips down to meet his, the arching of your back, any hitches in your breath. Tom wants to know every part of you, and you’re spread open like a book for him. 

“Love it,” you whimper, your face a picture of pleasure. The hand not joined with Tom’s slips between your figures, and Tom adjusts himself so you have access to your clit. He wishes, briefly, that he would’ve been able to unravel you on his tongue earlier, but when you cry out and clench around his cock, he knows this is better. This is so, so, so much better. “So good, Tom.” 

His lips move over your skin, kissing you, and after a while of Tom paying special attention to the base of your neck, you tug at his curls and bring him back to your face, kissing him. There’s a sense of deep understanding between you - mutual enjoyment as he works you up with deep, fulfilling thrusts. Tom kisses you until he runs out of air, and fucks you until you’re whimpering. 

“Feels so fuckin’ tight around me, darling,” he murmurs. “Gorgeous girl.” Tom wishes he could find a way to immortalise this moment. “Are you going to cum for me, lovie?” You nod, and Tom pecks your lips a final time. “Go on, then, sweetheart. Let go.”

Your climax triggers his own, and Tom feels you spasm around him as he spills into the condom. You cradle his cheek in one hand, and you moan into his mouth as you move together, bodies perfectly in sync. Tom’s almost shaking, his body on fire as he gradually slows down, his eyes full of a shaky film of tears. His length slips out from you as he pants for breath. 

**** sfw has entered the chat ****

Like last time, Tom finds respite on your chest as he recovers, your hands finding home in his hair as you soothe him with your touch, calming him, grounding him. 

“Fuck,” you exhale, voice a breathless whisper. Tom tilts his head, looking up to meet your eyes, and he quickly blinks back the tears that hang thick in his gaze. “Are you alright?”

Tom nods. He’s got a lump in his throat, so is quick to pull away from you fall beside you, sinking into the mattress with a shaky sigh. One of his hands rests on his stomach, the other linking with yours.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, looking over at you. When he sees the concern in your eyes, he kisses the back of your hand softly. “Think I need a tea, or something. Feeling a bit weird.”

You quirk your eyebrow, but hum. “Well, tea can fix almost anything,” you agree. “I can go make you one, if you need to rest.” You’re up and standing before Tom can stop you, and he realises you’d managed to carry all of your clothes to the bedroom. As you start to draw them back on, he pulls himself together.

“I’ll come with you.”

After a brief stop in the bathroom, and with a pair of loose grey sweats hanging low on Tom’s waist, he follows you back through the house, into the kitchen. His mind is spinning at a thousand miles an hour. Now that he’s had you - kissed you, held you, loved you - there’s nothing left. There’s nothing left to stall with, there’s nothing left to lose. Time is ticking by, and one glance up at the clock confirms that he only has about ten minutes until Harrison comes back. That realisation drives a wedge of anxiety into his heart. 

“You take it strong with no sugar, right?” You call out. You’ve poured the hot water into two mugs, a deep line carved between your eyebrows as you prod at one of the teabags with a metal teaspoon. 

Tom looks at you. He looks at the way you carefully poke the teabag and the way you seem to glow. He remembers the feeling of your hands roaming over him, the sounds of your voice in his ear. He thinks about how happy his heart feels whenever he’s around you, and how stark that contrast is compared to how he used to think about you. Tom’s insides clench as he thinks about the contract, the relationship agreement, the clock that’s counting down on the wall, and he can’t take it anymore.

“Eh? Tom? No sugar, yeah?”

Tom can’t keep it inside any longer.

“I love you.”

What?!

“W-What?” You drop the teaspoon with a clatter. Your eyes are wide, posture stiff all of a sudden. Complete and utter shock sticks to your features.

Tom finds himself stammering, his brain catching up, slowly, to the furious beating of his heart.

“I- I love you.” He doesn’t know what he’s saying, doesn’t know where to look. “I…” 

You look shocked. Tom isn’t sure he’s ever seen someone so astounded before. Immediately regret pangs in his chest, and he finds himself cursing himself for opening his big, selfish mouth and ruining everything between you. He can see your eyes darting everywhere, resting on the front door, and he panics. 

“-No… Wait, no.” 

“No?” You have a hand on your hip now, your face the picture of hurt confusion. 

Tom’s hands clench into fists at his side, and he knows he’s made a mistake. He had been prepared to ask you to stay, to tell you he wanted a relationship. He had not been prepared to tell you that he loves you, least of all because he himself hadn’t considered the possibility until he’d blurted it out. Why’s he picked now, out of every other moment, to profess this love for you, infuriates him. You’re looking at him, flabbergasted, and Tom can practically see your fragile friendship disintegrating before his eyes. 

“I mean- I- I got confused. Sorry, Y/N.” Tom’s running a hand through his hair, his face on fire. “Sorry, I… The feelings get confused. The- The lines between what’s real, and fake. Especially with the- the-”

“The sex.” You’re almost nodding now, stroking at your chin, but Tom can see the pools of hurt in your eyes. “It gets confusing, doesn’t it?”

Tom manages a tight laugh. “Yes. Yes, it gets very confusing.” You’re in agreement, but he knows you aren’t on the same page. You are so far from the same page, he wonders if you’re even reading the same book. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s... okay.” You rock back on your feet.

A silence descends between you, and Tom can’t say a thing. Can’t think a thing. His brain is trapped, moving between you, and you, and you, and his heart. Does he actually love you?

Tom hasn’t ever contemplated the fact that he might, actually, love you. He knows he wants to be with you, knows he does not want you to walk out of his front door - but love? Maybe it’s crossed his mind, once or twice. Or a few times. 

Staring at you now - at the way your eyes are full of tears, and your hands are shaking at your sides - Tom feels it. With a sick, twisted stroke of fate, he realises he’d been speaking from within. Tom realises that he loves you.

It’s been the small things. The way you are so competitive, the ambition that you bring to everything you touch. Tom remembers the day he’d gone to the cinema and found himself in pieces over your performance, in admiration over your ability to take him to another world. He thinks about your trip to London, and how easily you’d slipped into life with him - his family loves you, his dog adores you. He adores you. 

Shit, Tom adores you. He loves your smile, and your laugh, and almost every single thing about you. And he’s absolutely fucked it. 

“I’ve made things really awkward now, haven’t I?” Tom mutters, scratching at the back of his neck. He hopes you can’t make out the outline of his heart, beating painfully quickly in his chest, but you seem to be avoiding looking at him. He doesn’t know what to do: backtrack and tell you that he, for a second time, spoke inaccurate feelings? Tom knows that’ll just further hurt your friendship, add insult to injury. It is so clear from your demeanour now that your view of him has soured.

“Yeah.” Your phone buzzes on the counter, and you scramble to pick it up. “Harrison,” you mutter, still avoiding Tom’s gaze. “He’s outside. I’m going to go.”

The path to the front door winds by Tom and he manages to pull himself together just fast enough to reach out and grab your arms, stopping you in your tracks.

“Love.” You aren’t looking at him, even as Tom brings a hand up to hold your cheek. You flinch away, and he immediately drops all contact with your figure, feeling guilt hang heavy in his heart. Tom doesn’t know if he should keep talking or just shut up. He doesn’t want to do more damage by laying out his heart for you, doubts you’ll even care. “I’m sorry.”

You finally look up at him, your jaw set resolvedly. 

“It’s fine,” you say. “You’ve never been the smoothest, Tom. You put on a big act in front of the cameras, but I know you.” You reach up to pat his shoulder, but quickly move off as if the contact hurts. “I know who you really are.” 

It’s cryptic and layered, and Tom’s still puzzling it as he watches you walk around the living room, collecting your things. 

“Do you want to stay?” He asks. You look up as you pull on your jacket, shaking your head. 

“No.” You slip your phone into your pocket. “I don’t think we have anything left to talk about, Tom.”

He can’t get a read on you, beyond the fact that you’re hurt. Tom wonders if you’re near tears because both of you know this is the last time you’ll be privately together, or maybe if you’re mourning the loss of your friendship. He knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that his stupid big mouth, with his confused, contradictory statements have tainted the last eve of your relationship. He isn’t sure clarifying it would make it better, even. Your reaction to his initial declaration of love had been one of shock - and that in itself had told Tom all he needed to know about the likelihood of reciprocation. Maybe that rejection had spurred him on to shoot himself in the foot.

Or maybe, simply, he’s a fool.

“Bye, Tom.” 

You’re at the door now, halfway over the threshold. He isn’t sure if you’re going to turn around, until you do, and toss out a brief, broken smile. He realises you’re wearing the shoes he’d decorated. 

“Bye, Y/N.”

As the door clicks shut with a crisp, cold sound, Tom slumps against the counter and bangs his fist on the marble top. Above the noise in his head and the ache in his chest, one very prominent thought rises to the surface:

He’s fucked it - Tom has fucked it. He’s confused his feelings, and in his attempts at speaking from the heart, he’s managed to tear down the entire structure of your friendship. Your friendship - which has taken five months to construct, and a mere five minutes to completely shatter. With no more scheduled encounters with you before the breakup, Tom knows he hasn’t even got time to fix it. 

Tom knows, above everything else, that he has steered your relationship straight into the rocks, and he has done that all by himself. This is completely his fault, and he doesn’t know if he can fix it. But he knows, too, that he has a responsibility to try - a responsibility to try and stick these messy, broken pieces back together. He doesn’t want to lose you.

He knows he needs to try. 

↠ next part

[all-things-mlqc]

The five boys react to an overweight MC that works as a nutritionist but struggles a lot to lose weight? It might be strange but it happens sometimes. PLEASE!!! Btw, I love your work❤️

This was really fun to write about. Knowing that these guys are so supportive of MC and want to help her in any way possible with whatever she’s struggling with is just so sweet. 

Thank you for the love and support as well! 😭 I’m usually just memeing it up out here so writing HCs is very new for me but your support helps so much! I did meme a lot while writing this as well because what’s life without memes, so you can find all of my inner thoughts crossed out~ Hope you enjoy!

HC below the cut~

Gavin:

Gavin loves and supports MC through everything. He’s constantly watching and confronts her whenever he believes something is wrong.

After noticing her sulking at herself in the mirror, he asks what’s troubling her.

“Nothing really! You don’t need to worry about me.”

She gives him a small smile and turns away from the mirror.

He figured it had something to do with her figure given the way she was looking at herself.

He remembered her mentioning how even though she’s a nutritionist, she still struggled with her own weight.

She didn’t seem all that down back when mentioning it, but the expression she had in the mirror said otherwise.

He stood up from the sofa and asked if she wanted to go with him during his morning jog.

“Why would you want me to do that? I’d only slow you down.”

Gavin: I don’t mind. If it’ll help, then I’ll do anything I can.

This man isn’t one for small talk. He gets straight to the point. He observes, finds the problem and seeks out a solution. There was no need for MC to confirm his suspicions about wanting to lose weight; It was all in her expression.

“I don’t really want you to go out of your way for me... Besides, it’s important you don’t slack off with your training.”

Gavin: I wouldn’t be slacking off. Training with you would only make me work harder.

A NATURAL ROMANTIC BUT ALSO A FUCKING MORON WHO GAVE HER A BLOOD SOAKED LETTER. IM GONNA BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF YOU YA DUMBASS

MC takes up on Gavin’s offer considering how adamant he was. He also didn’t seem concerned in the slightest about MC being a burden BECAUSE SHES LITERALLY THE LIGHT IN HIS LIFE AND WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR HER

After they go jogging, they stop for a healthy meal of MCs choice because Gavin doesn’t know what food is. Have you seen his kitchen? INSTA NOODLES EVERYWHERE. Boy is literally the type to throw a lunchables on the dinner table and give thanks for his beloved meal. Omg nononono I’m thinking of all these sad things now about how Gavin was literally homeless for a while as a kid so he probably just got used to eating something small and simple every day. BYE IMMA GO CRY NOW

While eating, Gavin comes up with a few more ideas to help and offers to take her to his gym every other day.

They come up with a plausible schedule that could seem efficient to MC’s wish of losing weight.

This also gives MC the chance to make sure Gavin is taking care of himself as well.

Kiro:

Kiro and MC meet up when he finally has free time and manages to escape from Savin.

Like their normal days together, they end up walking around Loveland City, going to some sightseeing locations. They just enjoy each other’s company.

When stopping to buy a snack, Kiro grabs two bags of chips and beams up at MC only to see her forced smile. He immediately gets concerned given how positive she always is.

Kiro: Are you ok? What’s on your mind?

“No, it’s nothing. I’m just trying to narrow down on the amount of junk food I eat.”

Kiro: Why is that? You’ve always told me to live to the fullest.

“Well... I’m trying to lose some weight but it seems more problematic than I had originally thought.”

With MC looking ashamed of how little progress she has made thus far, Kiro places both bags back on the shelf with a bright smile.

Kiro: Well if we both work together then there’s no chance we could lose this fight! Besides, Savin has been at my throat lately considering the mount of junk food I’ve been eating recently too.

“Kiro...”

MC stared at Kiro, dumbfounded, who seemed so positive. This gave MC a boost of confidence, herself.

She quietly thanked him while giving him a genuine smile.

They spent the whole day doing fun activities. In a way, this was part of Kiro’s plan to help MC. He knew how much this mattered to her so he wanted to keep a smile on her face while secretly help her from the shadows.

It’s honestly what he does best. It’s hard to tell in the game since we don’t get to see every expression he makes or how he reacts to things, but take a good look at his reactions in the anime. You can see how serious he really is behind his happy facade.

He continues to silently help her every time they spend time together as well as send her encouraging texts and reminders.

Nobody is more positive and encouraging than Kiro~

Lucien:

Lucien knows everything nutritionists know, let’s be real. This man was a child prodigy who skipped half of his school life, going straight to college.

He knows EXACTLY what MC needs. The one problem is, so does MC.

She knows what she needs to do but doesn’t have the kind of support she needs. She easily becomes discouraged when things don’t work out after trying so hard.

Luckily, Lucien is also a wonderful supporter minus when he just “what’s a magic? Don’t know em. No thoughts. Head empty. Only science and death”. Uhu then what do you call that flying cop outside the window? Where’s your science behind that? Lucien: “Well you see, there is a certain DNA mutation that—“ DO NOT ANSWER THAT YOU FOOL I KNOW ITS SCIENCE BUT MAGIC IS EASIER TO ACCEPT RN BECAUSE MY BRAIN GO BRRR

But considering it’s MCs health, he is very supportive and even explains that many people struggle with the same problem. There’s not exactly any problem with how someone looks unless it is overall affecting their health for the worse but he will gladly help MC if she wishes to lose weight.

Knowing that Lucien views it this way immediately gives MC more confidence.

An enormous amount of stress has been lifted off her shoulders which will ultimately help her reach her goal.

Lucien comes up with a solid workout plan and diet that is easy for MC to follow and even offers to make her some special meals to help with weight loss because Bill Nye over here has the solution to everything

I also highkey imagined him whispering in her ear like the first day they met that if she follows his plan without any casualties, he would give her special rewards and yes I do mean THOSE kind of rewards because this man is K I N K Y. I don’t even like him, I blame my friend who’s constantly giving me these ideas about him. You’re lucky you’re a bitch or I’d probably be on the floor for you too.

Victor:

Victor’s biggest struggle is vulnerability. He is very blunt and says what comes to his mind without always thinking it through.

Because of this, he upsets MC when talking about her weight.

He meant no harm from whatever he may have said but notices MC’s sorrowful expression after lifting his eyes from the papers on his desk to meet her gaze.

He immediately acknowledges what he had done and puts everything away for the day, offering to take her to Souvenir.

“What..?”

Victor: I’m done for the day. If you don’t have anything else to do, you can come with me.

“But why?”

Victor: You’re still you regardless of your weight, but if it’s something you want to change, I’ll help.

The man wanted to tell her she’s beautiful and amazing no matter what, but hahaha we all know this man can’t compliment for the life of him. Jkjk he can but like I said before, v u l n e r a b i l i t y. He struggles with expressing his true feelings.

MC responds with pure shock on her face,

“Really?? You’d help me?”

Victor: Only an idiot would ask a question like that. You should count on me more when you’re struggling with something like this.

Baka this baka that. If I don’t add it somewhere, than this whole HC isn’t accurate at all. All you thirsty Victor hoes go watch his baka clip if you want more *spray bottles*

He tidies up his desk and grabs his coat, heading towards the door while MC stumbles over her thoughts.

He only stops halfway out the door to look back over his shoulder at MC.

Victor: Well?

“I— I’m coming!”

She rushes over and follows him out the door.

Victor ends up making MC a delicious and healthy meal, one he knows is a special meal for a weight loss diet.

Cooking was never that important to him. He only learned because of the little girl he once knew. But now... Now he has a new reason to continue cooking.

That girl had come back to him and he would do anything in his power to make her happy.

Shaw:

He watches MC intently as she talks about how difficult it is for her.

Right before MC finishes, he places her on his skateboard and takes off without giving her time to protest.

She shouts in fear ofc. Why wouldn’t she. I’m terrified every time the game says he puts mc on his skateboard just—

Shaw chuckles with amusement in her ear and then tells her to push off with her own feet.

“ARE YOU INSANE?” yes, yes he is

Shaw: I won’t let you fall but I won’t stop until you push.

“Fine fine!”

With the help of Shaw keeping her steady, she’s able to smoothly push off the skateboard a few times.

After getting the hang of it, there’s a slight smile taking place of her feared expression from before.

Shaw’s expression, however, doesn’t change in the slightest. That teasing smirk rests on his face as she continues to push them down the park sidewalk.

As they reach the main road, she yells back to Shaw when the skateboard doesn’t slow down.

“Shaw—!”

It’s all she managed to get out as the fear she once had returned again.

MC shut her eyes with panic as the street grew closer and closer, only to feel an arm wrap around her as the cold wind hitting her face dissipated.

When her eyes opened, she saw Shaw giving her the same mocking smirk he always wears. However, his eyes showed signs of gentleness he doesn’t often express.

He offers her one of his skateboards for workout purposes as well as being her workout partner.

MCs chuckles out of amusement from the idea of HER riding a skateboard by herself. totally a reason why Shaw made this offer. He feeds off of entertainment.

She politely declines his offer of skateboarding but hesitantly asks if he would help her in other ways.

The question needs no thought from Shaw but he doesn’t want her to know he made up his mind to help long ago. ah yes, his one weakness as well, vulnerability

Shaw: I suppose being of assistance to you may turn out entertaining.

MC: Is that all I am to you? A source of entertainment?

She pouts at him half jokingly but he pays no mind to it as he kicks up his skateboard and continues walking ahead while suggesting a few things they can do to help with weight loss. Daring but not enough to scare her away. He actually wants to help but needs her to comply with his suggestions

Shaw is the type to help those he cares for without making it obvious. He believes personal relationships is a weakness for someone like him so he always keeps people at arms length; He always wants a possible way out for when he has to push people away.

While this is true, he’s also struggled with vulnerability his whole life. Considering the type of person his father was, growing up with a man like that not only puts pressure on Shaw, but also forms this broken and terrified personality under his overconfident facade.

Someone please just hold this man, he’s trying his best and needs healing

Their solution for MC is to try some fun activities together. Fun enough for MC to believe that Shaw isn’t going out of his way for her but also not as extreme to the point where MC won’t participate.

[andmaybegayer]

Last Monday of the Week: 2021-03-01

First Monday of the Month. My boss just quit at work which means I'm now the only formally trained engineer left who has any particular specialization in embedded systems. This week is going to be a doozy.

I also wrote a Very Long set of media updates because I’ve been consuming some stuff that makes me think a lot. Never a good sign.

Listening: I spent all of Saturday playing Minecraft after talking with some friends about it during the week on IRC. Practicing what I preach with regards to my Large Biome Supermacy policy, which does involve a lot of walking. Hence, I started catching up on The Adventure Zone: Graduation again, I'm like ten episodes behind.

https://maximumfun.org/episodes/adventure-zone/the-adventure-zone-graduation-ep-32-by-a-haircut/

I don't really enjoy Travis' DM'ing style. It's very loose and he has a tendency to let players run wild without much structure which is a tricky thing to handle. He does a lot of worldbuilding and character design but doesn't seem to plan much in the way of arcs. That pays off sometimes (returning to the school to realize they broke a promise they made a few sessions earlier and had to deal with consequences, for example) and when it does, it’s really good, but it's finnicky. I know DM's who can do that, but, well, actually I know One Single DM who can do that well and she's absurdly smart.

Reading: Still on Worm, I just got past chapter 8 or so now. It lives in my phone browser so I've mostly been reading it whenever I get some spare time, which is a good sign. If a book doesn't grab me I need to really settle down in a quiet space to avoid getting distracted, but I can read Worm while someone else is on the phone in the same room.

It is a story with a lot of very well-conveyed feelings and events. It's very easy to imagine yourself in it. Characters actually act like they care about what they're doing, I feel like writing this took a lot of care to keep everyone on model.

There's also a certain care given to the superpowers that you'd usually only see in forum posts arguing about an actual superhero story. Everyone always likes to argue about how far you can push a superpower: can you use teleporting to fly? What prevents a speedster from catching fire in the air? Where does the energy for a  pyrokinetic ability come from? Worm takes these and runs with them as a way to make absolutely any fight become a series of gambits relying on whether a power can or cannot be used to perform some high-stakes trick.

The world certainly has some underpinning contrivances to explain why no one gets killed very often but I've always considered nitpicking the base contrivances of a setting silly, because that's precisely what they are: contrived, in order to allow the rest of the story to flow from there. Like arguing about Omega’s abilities in the famous thought experi-*I am dragged off stage by the ratblr police for making a by now extremely stale joke*

Watching: I came and edited this section in like an hour before this posts because I keep on forgetting to put it in. I don’t really like watching TV and with my parents stuck at home in Pandemic Times it’s how they pass the time.

I did finish S3 of the Good Place. It’s very funny. I’m glad I’m watching it and I’m going to have to go find S4 because ZA Netflix doesn’t have it for whatever reason. It feels a little like it was written by Phillip Pullman if Phillip Pullman was a comedy TV writer.

I also really enjoyed the PBS Spacetime video about how time causes gravity. Love when an explanation of concepts is good enough that you drawn the conclusion on your own.

Playing: Visual Novel Hell plus Minecraft.

I spent approximately seven hours in Minecraft over two days. I tend to hop in and out of games for 1-2 hours at a time but there's a handful that can suck me in for an entire day. Minecraft, Warframe, Horizon Zero Dawn, Night in the Woods. Bastion, to a lesser extent. I end up avoiding them because I don't like loosing entire days, but I wasn't really planning on doing anything this weekend anyways.

Minecraft was mostly a long-ass trek to find a saddle, because as previously mentioned, I enjoy playing it with Large Biomes for the sense of scale.

I also completed Act 3 of Psycholonials and Eliza.

Psycholonials is odd. It is doing the thing that Hussie does where it dances around what's ostensibly the story to carry out the actual story. You get used to the trope after your first encounter but it still makes you wonder when the other shoe will drop, and of course, there's no reason it ever has to. The story may remain in suspended animation behind the every growing mess of narrative red tape tying the B-plot together.

Stories about Social Media have no well established norms. I think I might pick up Feed by M. T. Anderson and also perhaps Hank Green's books sometime. See what context they set that in.

Eliza is frustrating to me. It's a game for programmers, by programmers, about programmers. I'm friends with a lot of Capital P Programmers, the types who go to university and get sniped for developer positions at Seattle or Silicon Valley tech companies and who make great and terrible things and then warn you about the deep problems that underpin the slowly rolling ball of venture capital and bloated technology that is the tech industry. But at the same time, it makes me feel like I've burnt out on that conceptually before I even went in. It’s a whole other world that I’m familiar with but very distant from. In fact, that’s kinda how I feel about Psycholonials too. I’m familiar with the social media rat race but I also don’t go there. Parallels!

My cousins (who are halfway to Capital P Programmers, only so much you can do halfway around the world from silicon valley) warned me not to go into CS, because it would bore me, and that's a non-trivial part of why I'm in Engineering. They gave the same advice about Biology and Physics, without that I may have ended up in Microbiology. it’s not my domain, but because of how Engineering is going, you end up a lot closer to programmers than you think. I found out the other day that most of the software developers on my team have no formal tertiary qualifications, which is accepted in CS but of course, right out when it comes to engineering. It’s a whole other world that I kinda expected to skip around. I might go into this another time, since this post is already getting long.

Making: I haven’t done any engineering scicomm posts on here in a while so I started a few blank drafts and finally got one off the ground. With some luck I’ll have that ready this week. What’s it about? Not saying! It might change!

I’ve been doing layout for a custom keyboard, I need to call a laser cutting place and find out what their kerf requirements are so I can adjust the path accordingly. Wouldn’t do to burn a couple hundred rand on an oversized part, I’m paying for this, not my employer like the other times I’ve done laser cutting, so I’m probably not going to spring for getting one of their designers to check my design. At some point I should CAD up a chassis, but at the same time I might just buy some wood and go ham with a router once I get the plates cut.

Computers Slot: I got WeeChat set up properly on my desktop, which technically was just a matter of getting my SSH keys moved over. It’s taking me forever to move in to Cinnabar, in part because Stibnite lost her boot partition and I haven’t bothered to fix it.

So here’s a pitch for WeeChat as a good quality Terminal UI IRC Client. Many of my closest friends live there and it has a good set of tools to help me keep in touch.

WeeChat is very configurable but with perfectly sane defaults, I didn’t configure it for years. The UI is smarter and less arcane than something like irssi, and if you enable mouse support it can be downright modern. Running it remotely like this limits some features but as long as you don’t mind jumping through a few hoops to do filesharing, IRC is really great like this.

One of the big ones is the ability to do that double-pane thing, I can keep an eye on two channels at once (really as many as I can cram on my screen, but usually two) which is great when you want to browse channels while talking in your home channel.

It also has a good array of remote access tools, from what I’m running up there, just weechat running on my server inside tmux connected over mosh for low-latency SSH, to weechat-relay, a relay protocol built in to weechat. At the moment relay only supports android phones and the glowingbear web client, but I’ve never really looked around since both of those cover all my needs. Easily one of the best ways to get IRC on a modern mobile device, barring maybe IRCCloud.

[novantinuum]

Shattering Atlas (a corrupted!Steven one-shot)

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: T (TW: depression and body horror)

Words: 4.2K~

Summary: A boy can only carry an entire galaxy upon his back for so long before the weight of it all finally becomes too much.

Folks, here it is! I’m finally finished. AO3 link to be posted in the reblogs.

Disclaimer: This is absolutely far darker and more drastic than I believe canon would EVER tread if this theory had the faintest chance of being anywhere close to the truth, but sometimes you just feel like being super angsty for angst's sake, y'feel? It was an interesting writing experiment nonetheless. Not gonna lie, this is kinda a vent piece. Please do heed those tags. This delves into some difficult territory both mentally and otherwise, as it's written entirely from Steven's POV.

_____

Steven knows he’s messed-up.

It’s not something he tries to advertise to all the sweet, innocent people who somehow after all this time still choose to stand by his side, but he can’t lie to himself. Spending a significant chunk of your childhood actively doubting your own personhood shatters you in ways no amount of unconditional love can ever hope to mend. And sure, he’s not his mom. He knows that. Been there, had the mental breakdown, seen it, done it. The proof’s in his gem half. He knows. But as much as everyone in his life coddles him, gently tries to reassure him while he tirelessly works day and night to realign the foundation of an entire ancient civilization...

“You’re almost an adult now, isn’t that exciting?”

“Don’t worry about the future, the futures I see for you are as limitless as they are bright.”

“Take a break if you need to, ‘kay? You totally deserve one, little man.”

“Y’know, Schtu-ball, the wonderful thing about adulthood is that you can choose to fly wherever the wind takes you!”

...it’s clear none of that matters anyways. Because it’s not true, not for him. Because beyond his identity as a Crystal Gem, beyond that bottomless desire for belonging he’s been chasing all his life, ever since the fateful moment early in his childhood in which he finally realized— small, pudgy hands clutching at the oversized hand-me-down shirt right over the pink hand-me-down gem in his belly— that he isn’t like anyone else and never will be, the truth is that he genuinely doesn’t know what he wants. Who he is.

Everyone else does.

Connie has plans. Hopes, dreams. A future. She’s already thinking about college, and aims on double majoring in political science and environmental science. (A combination only she’s daring enough to pursue, but if anyone’s got the drive to succeed in that it’s her.) Dad’s still manager for Sadie Killer and the Suspects, and they’re going strong. Amethyst has been playing tour guide to all her fellow Prime sisters lately, galavanting with them all around planet Earth. Garnet is currently on the search for terrified cross-fusion Gems still in hiding across the galaxy. Pearl, Bismuth, and a number of the boardies have spearheaded a campaign to help slowly teach and integrate the humans of the Zoo into modern day society. Lapis and Peridot recently built another barn in the outskirts of Little Homeworld, and are enjoying each other’s company.

But him? When all is said and done, as the restructured Gem society stabilizes and soon no one will need him for anything anymore, when Gems and humans alike stop knocking on his metaphoric door with handfuls of their problems for him to drop everything and solve, he has nothing left. He’s no one. No future, no clue. He’s been drained empty.

He’s just drifting through life with the parking break on, continuously waiting— his nerves jittering at every quiet moment— for the next big crisis to crash into his universe and drop feed him even the tinniest shard of purpose.

After all, what is one to do when they’ve spent their entire life training to save the world, but the world has already been saved?

_____

He can’t recall exactly when his current predicament began anymore.

Time’s been hard to keep track of as of late— the days and weeks blending together in an incomprehensible fashion— and yet simultaneously, he might as well have lived a lifetime in the span of the blink of an eye. That being said, he’s pretty sure his most recent gem troubles didn’t truly kick into gear until after the incident with the, erm... cactus monstrosities.

He genuinely didn’t mean to hurt anyone, he didn’t. He only wanted to help... to heal. To try and repair but a shred of the damage Homeworld wrought on this innocent world. It worked when Earth was poisoned, so it should work in the Kindergartens too, right?

Wrong. Very wrong.

His stomach churns as he catches a glimpse of a silly photo of Peridot and himself hanging on the wall by the stairs. A static monument to his shame. Lapis is (still, days later— or is it weeks?) taking care of her gemstone at this very moment, sure, but remembering what happened before that... holding Peridot’s cracked gem in his quivering hands, biting back cries of hopelessness as he ran to the nearest warp pad, escaping from the malformed, hurting creatures born of his own magic... it‘s the kind of horror that he’s sure will linger in his dreams for a long time yet.

It’s like he’s broken. Like his powers just aren’t coming as naturally to him anymore. It’s not quite like that time with the rejuvenator. There’s no sickly glow flickering in and out of existence. No external force acting upon it. No, it’s deeper than that. It’s not a gem sourced problem, it’s him. He’s just... wrong. He’ll try to use his healing ability and it’ll backfire, he’ll summon his bubbles and shields but they’re noticeably less durable, he’ll birth life from his very soul and it’ll grow bitter and corrupt, every bit a mirror of his present mental state. He’ll jump up high in the sky to burn out years of repressed stress in semi-peace and before he can actually do so gravity will grab ahold of him like he’s a petulant, disobedient child and drag him back to the shore. It makes him want to scream, to grind his fingers into the sand so hard his knuckles go white as he sobs out every last one of his stupid, meaningless frustrations, but instead his house is always swarming with people, and his bedroom has no real door, (and he’s too embarrassed to ask for one), and in sum he can never find enough time alone to freely be his genuine messed-up self. It’s fine, though. He doubts he’s capable of crying at this point anyways.

“Dude, you okay?” Amethyst asks with brows furrowed in concern, snapping him back to reality.

His GameStation controller rests precariously in his loose grasp, entirely forgotten in the previous moment. The game they’re playing is paused. He must have blanked out again, and completely ruined their co-op fight. He lets out a shaky breath as he tightens his fingers around the plastic grips, digging into them as if they’re his sole handle on reality.

“Yeah, sorry,” he says swiftly, plastering a smile on his face with the ease of someone who’s been growing adept at this endless charade for months and months. “Didn’t sleep too well last night. Muscle cramps from training, y’know?”

He watches her closely, catalogues every minute shift in her features. Her eyes narrow so slightly that anyone else might’ve missed it. But he doesn’t. He’s observant. He’s gotta be. It’s the only way he’s kept going for this long, the only way he can ensure no one else knows. They don’t need any more worry. Regardless, Amethyst’s lack of subtlety betrays her, because it’s clear she’s searching his expression and body language right back. His chest pounds. Hastily, he holds up the controller, feeling his face go pale under her scrutiny.

Geeze, how pathetic.

No matter how hard he tries to mask it, he‘s already falling apart.

“So... we gonna play another round, or?” Right as he says this, his stomach chooses to let out an inopportune gurgle. He bites at the insides of his cheeks, inwardly cursing at the bad timing.

It’s thankfully enough to divert Amethyst’s attention from... other matters, though.

“Yo. Ste-man. Your stomach’s straight up monologuing. Have you even eaten today?”

He dimly considers this as he tries not to focus on how empty and faint his body currently feels, mind turning to fuzz. “Uhh...”

She frowns, and promptly pulls herself to her feet. “Yeah, so I’m gonna take that as a no. I’ll be right back, ‘kay? Gonna get us some cheese!” she declares bombastically, putting on a mock announcer voice.

He watches her leave his room, prancing downstairs like she doesn’t have a care in the world. A faint huff of sheer relief passes through his nostrils. Absentmindedly, his thumbs jiggle the controller’s joystick, unable to strike the earlier image of Amethyst— concern engulfing her usually carefree self— from his mind. He really should be more careful about what he says. How he acts.

He honestly couldn’t live with himself if he slipped up and became yet another emotionally taxing problem for them to deal with. Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl... all his family, his friends. They deserve peace. They deserve to be satisfied, they deserve their happily ever after. They certainly don’t deserve him, self-destructing all over the bright and shining future they’d won.

Or nearly shattering them.

Putting them in needless danger, danger that’s all his fault, because he’s broken.

His throat grows tight, airway constricted, images of black beady eyes, razor sharp fangs, and malformed limbs invading his thoughts, clawing away at insecurities long scabbed over until they ooze a bitter red. Peridot’s shrill yelp as she’s overtaken in an instant. That dreadful, immediately recognizable sound, a cracking Gem, seared onto his heart for the rest of time.

He... he can’t deny it anymore. His magic’s gone toxic. He’s toxic, bringing suffering and decay where once he brought healing. All his Gem powers are fading, maybe forever. And with them fading, he’ll soon be of no use to anyone, and when they realize why they faded they won’t want him around anyways, and y’know, it’s probably for the better they’ll have a concrete reason to finally push him away. He’s not stupid. He’s always known what an emotionally taxing strain he’s been on everyone, ever since the day Mom died for him to be born.

Steven grips the controller so hard that his fingers grow numb, mind stewing in the dark fantasies of what he’d like to do with himself when he’s left behind for good.

And then... his heart leaps in his throat as he dimly hears Amethyst begin to whisper to the others (they’re back? They’re back?? When did they return, why didn’t you notice them, how could you just miss—) downstairs.

“Y’guys,” he hears her say frantically, under her breath, “I think we really gotta talk with Steven. Something’s seriously wrong, and he won’t tell me what.”

“What, you mean to say he’s in danger? Garnet, do you see anything?”

“Hmm. I don’t foresee any external threats to Steven’s safety in the near future, but...”

“Amethyst, he’s clearly still upset about Peridot. And once she reforms in a few days, when she’s ready, he’ll be fine! Trust me.“

“No, trust me, I genuinely think this is more than just Peridot! It’s getting me super worried. He hasn’t been eating like he should, y’guys. I don’t think he’s showered in days. Sometimes it’s like he’s... I dunno, like, he isn’t even fully present. And y’know, thinking about it now? It’s been like this for a while. Since before all the cactus stuff.”

“Well, if he doesn’t want to talk about it, I’m not sure how we could—“

“We need to call Greg over,” Garnet interrupts Pearl, a new, thinly veiled panic rising in her voice. “Right now.”

His eyes stretch open wide.

Oh.

Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no, no... Not here, not now, not— please, not now!

His breath hastens, his body outright shaking now. He curls tight into himself, the game controller dropping from his slackened fingers onto the floor as he clutches his knees to his chest. Sweat beads in droplets on his forehead. He outright yanks at his hair.

Amethyst, she can’t just waltz downstairs and!—

I don’t want to—

Peridot, getting cracked, I- it’s all my fault and she didn’t—

I- all of this- I’m so useless, careless, l- I’m losing my mind, what’s even wrong- why are you panicking!- I don’t—

T-they can’t know, they can’t know, they CAN’T—

He can’t fully bite back his cries as his gem flares burning hot, a rush of pure, unadulterated agony spiking through his hard light veins in an indescribably eternal split-second, the very experience of hypocrisy. Every single muscle in his body seizes. His ears ring, filled with a cacophonous clamor of sound that slashes through his mind with the deadly force of a long blade. Crippling. Debilitating. All-consuming. Hell. This is hell. Because then his head is pounding, and his limbs are all weak and shaky, and for a moment he’s bathed in a faint wash of pink, the glow enveloping him like his own corona of sickness as he succumbs to the pain he’s sequestered inside, bitterly festering for all these years.

Hell eventually recedes, both its note and its physical touch, but the dark clouds looming over his mind do not. Slowly, he loosens his grip on his curls, trying desperately to bring balance to his breathing. His ears are still ringing. His head is still cotton. Questions abound. For instance: what on Earth was that?? Stars, is something else wrong with his gem now, too? Thoroughly disorientated, he yanks up the hem of his shirt.

“Steven?!” Pearl calls frantically from downstairs, right as his trembling fingers gently trace the exposed facets of his gem. “Are you okay up there?”

He squints, features compressing in his sheer confusion. Visually, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with it. No imperfections, no flickering light, nothing. So then what’s—

“Hey, Steven? Yo?? You, uh- maybe wanna come eat downstairs, or?”

A shudder runs clear through his form, starting from his gem and coursing outwards to the furthest extremities. He grits his teeth as he rides through the stabbing discomfort, clutching at his stomach. It’s like he’s about to vomit. Sure, so maybe he was really hungry before, and maybe that has a little to do with what he’s experiencing now, but... this... still doesn’t feel right. Spots swim in his vision as he glances down again.

And that’s when he sees it, slowly creeping across the skin of his bare forearm as clear as day.

It’s a patch of dull, pinkish hide. Not human skin, hide. He runs his index finger along its perimeter, all of reality screeching to a halt as his brain performs somersaults in a desperate last-ditch attempt to contextualize the information his eyes are sending him right now.

“What?” he whispers in disbelief, (even though he has a few terrifying theories), frantic heartbeat pounding in his ears like a drum.

“I’m checking on him,” Garnet says, just loud enough that he knows for certain she intends him to hear. Solid footsteps creep across the floorboards, advancing towards the foot of the stairs.

It’s frankly impressive how fast a single stimulus can turn panic to outright paranoia.

He almost trips over himself diving to retrieve his jacket off the floor, forcing his arms through the sleeves faster than any of the Gems could ever summon their weapons. Hide it. Hide it away. They can’t see you, they can’t know you’re corru- NO! Stop.

Bathroom. He needs to get to the bathroom.

His bare feet solidly connect with the floor, toes curling inwards as he shudders again. A pulsing ache settles into the bones of his skull. Then a prickle at his neck. Reflexively, he slaps his hand against the affected locale. There’s another spot steadily growing there.

Alone, NOW.

The whole world’s spinning as he turns on his heels and flies across the length of his bedroom— sprinting past the TV, shoving past Garnet, who’s already halfway up the open stairwell, and leaping clear over the couch from midway down the last set of steps. (Everyone’s shouting in blind panic as he enters their sight. Fear. Needless, unwanted worry. Calling his name, calling for peace, but his ears are still ringing and their voices are overlapping and he can’t distinguish any of it.) When he reaches the bathroom his hand grips the knob so hard that the metal almost crumples under his force, and he swings himself through the doorway, slams it shut, and turns the lock with pink-splotched fingers faster than any one of the Gems can move to stop him.

For a split moment, things are okay. He’s alone. Moreover, he’s safe.

(But are you really?)

His head is pounding again, the pulsing at his temples soon coalescing into a constant inescapable misery. Letting his eyes flutter shut, he lets his forehead lull against the door. Flexes his knuckles, imagines the splotches disappearing from sight as easily as eye bags under makeup. He tries to calm his breathing in the meditative way Garnet once showed him. In for four counts... and out. In... and out. Come on, just ride it out, Universe. You’re a Gem- a diamond, for cripe’s sake! Control it. Conceal. Move on.

“Steven?!” Amethyst calls from outside. “Please talk to us, what’s goin’ on?”

"Whatever it is, you don't have to be alone!" Pearl adds. He doesn't even have to see her face to know that she's crying.

A renewed burst of panic spikes through his veins at this realization.

“Stop worrying about me, I’m fine!” he bites back on impulse.

“No, you’re NOT!” Amethyst hollers, and then... after a thoughtful pause, her tone softening: “I- I know you’re not.”

He stares down at his hands, brows threading together, watching as the patch of hide continues to inch across his skin. The genuine concern interlaced in every syllable of her speech is enough to make his gut churn with guilt.

“Steven, I... stars, I know you probably overheard me talking to everyone jus’ a second ago, and I know I probably betrayed every scrap of trust we ever had ‘coz of that, and I wanna say I’m sorry, but I can’t just stand aside and watch you treat yourself like garbage. Please, the door’s jammed. Let us in. We just wanna help!”

His lip quivers, despite himself. “I don’t need any help!” he insists, stubbornly pushing past the crack in his voice. “I’m just—“

He’s interrupted by a rush of crippling agony radiating upwards from his gem once more, the ache at either side of his head intensifying into three points. Hands rush to the site on automatic. Fingers grasping, searching. Discovering.

There’s something growing at his temples, he realizes with a rush of horror. Something hard, faceted. Disturbingly cold to the touch.

There’s no way to bite back his screams as the growths fully protrude, none at all, even with his mouth clamped shut, and even though he can’t see them he can sense their weight as they wind upwards and back, up and out of his curls, and he’s shaking, oh stars is he shaking, chest heaving up and down so hard he’s not sure he’ll ever be free of these awful tremors ever again, and— A hoarse sob forces its way to the surface as a third growth crowns his forehead. Trembling fingers scrape down the length of the door as he collapses to his knees, nails sharpening into gnarled talons as they sink further and further into the wood, carving through it like butter. He clenches his jaw back together so hard that with any greater pressure he might shatter his own teeth.

Still quite woozy under the threat of hyperventilation, he slowly turns his head. Extricates those dreadful claws from the door. Dares himself to look. Forcing himself back up to his feet, he gazes deep into the depths of the mirror. And as the creature trapped on the other side stares back through sickeningly pink irises— blotches of color steadily creeping up their jawline and across their cheek, inching to meet the base of those glistening crystalline horns— all known reality shatters into smithereens.

Not me, not me, not me, is the mantra he chants to himself like a prayer, stubbornly clinging to any vestige of normalcy as if this is all but a vivid nightmare he can stir awake from.

(As if deep down, a tiny, beaten-down part of himself still wants to believe he deserves a future too.)

But the darkness reflected in that mirror is following his every jerky, erratic movement as all the despair and guilt and self-hatred festering within continues to consume him like a matchstick to fire.

Not real. It’s not real! I don’t need help. I don’t need the Gems, they don’t need to know, I’m fine, I’m FINE, this isn’t corru - NO, DON’T THINK ABOUT IT! YOU CAN’T—

They’re yelling outside. Arguing, probably. (And true to form, Pearl‘s cries are the shrillest.) But he can’t be certain of anything anymore while smothered under the fog’s thickening surface, with the rest of the world relegated to mere static and stimuli. Not a word, not a clue. No way to know if it’s an argument about him or with him.

And in his mind their distress stands as yet another sign. Just another slice of proof that they truly are at their happiest without him, that his continued existence only serves as a complication. He can’t deny it anymore. He can’t lie, can’t tiptoe around the inevitable truth; like this, he’s nothing but a liability. A ticking time bomb, set to shatter everything and everyone in his path. Shaking like a leaf, he unfurls his fists, watching as the dull pink hide overtakes the last clear patches of flesh upon his misshapen, monstrous fingers.

They’re better off without you.

The passing seconds cease to exist as he convulses again, this time centralized at the base of the spinal column. He doubles over, leans into the pain. Rides it through vertebrae by vertebrae, raking his claws deep into the wood floor as a fifth limb emerges from where the spine left off, steadily lengthening— fortifying itself with jagged crystalline spikes as it grows ever longer. Its weight is entirely foreign, yet it shifts upon his slightest command. Panic overruling all logic once more, he thrashes about, the tail swinging across the bathroom counter like a whip. His toothbrush, comb, and other various toiletries he hasn't made use of in days clatter to the floor, abandoned.

R u n.

The thought rampages through his shattered soul like an avalanche. Yanks him by the horns. Consumes his mind and body like a trance. He has to escape from here, from the house, the Gems, has to run quick, before it’s too late and you can’t do anything more but wordlessly scream.

He doesn’t stop to question this impulse. Doesn’t stop to peer at that poor tortured creature in the mirror again. For a moment his claws struggle to grasp the crumpled door knob, fumbling in failure’s wake.

When he finally forces the door open, the whole world holds its breath.

Pearl’s eyes blow wide upon the no-doubt horrifying sight. Her hands fly to her mouth. “Steven?!”

Even Amethyst reacts in an adverse manner, stepping back towards the support of the wall. “Holy...” she breathes, face paling.

And just knowing he’s out here now, every gnarled, nightmarish feature exposed in front of his family like a raw nerve, makes his blotchy, spot-covered skin crawl.

“DON’T LOOK AT ME, I’m FINE!” he hollers as he sprints to the warp pad, barbed tail whipping wildly behind him. Pearl yelps in alarm as she only barely dodges its mace-like swing. Unable to hold back his sobs anymore, he collapses to his knees on the hard crystal. Coils his tail around himself by sheer instinct. Hides his face away behind arms. Hot tears spill from his eyes, vision blurring and sharpening in rhythm to the unbearable ache pounding in his head. “I’m fine,” he whispers pathetically, voice catching.

He can practically feel the vibrations through the floor as someone approaches. It’s Garnet. He doesn’t know how he knows, but it can only be her. His breath hastens against his better wishes. Can’t stop, won’t stop, can’t stop... The vision of the temple door begins to pirouette in dizzy circles around him as he arches his back, and with a sharp gasp feels something tear its way through his shirt and jacket right above his spine, all jagged and spiked and— NO! He grinds his jaw together, shrinking further into himself. Not real. It’s not real, not real, not—

“Steven,” she says in a measured tone as he heaves for air. (No, with hesitation. Fear. She’s hesitating because she’s afraid of you, she’s afraid because you’re a monster NO.) “I know you’re hurting, but I need you to take a deep breath with me, and try to calm down. Please, let us help you...”

A heart wrenchingly familiar hand reaches out to him, adorned by a ruby gem and a golden wedding band. His fingers clamp around thick, greasy curls, brushing against the horns protruding from his temples. A keening cry slips out from his mouth against his better wishes. They want to help. They only want to help...

He peeks at her through the crook of his arm, his most likely reddened, blotchy eyes meeting hers. She’s taken off her visor. She’s crying too.

For a glimmer of a second, he considers reaching out. Taking her offered hand with his own clawed one. But then...

Haven’t you been a burden enough already?

His face screws up, and his hands clench into fists.

“NO,” he shouts, slamming them down upon the warp pad. It activates, (blessedly still accessible at this early stage of corruption NO don’t think about it!!), glowing a bright cyan as he envisions where he wants to go: no particular destination in his mind but away, away, away.

After all, he already knows he’s a monster.

So... he might as well become one too.

_____

Notes:

Some days you just gotta have an entire mental breakdown and go full wyrm, y'hear?

HCs I tapped into for this fic:

After being healed, formerly cracked Gems take longer to reform than Gems who were only poofed. Peridot will be okay eventually, she just hasn’t reformed quite yet.

Steven is still able to warp because he hasn’t quite passed the threshold of corruption that prevents a Gem from accessing the warp stream. I imagine it's very much a matter of mental connection, and having the right presence of mind to tap into it. Probably a few minutes after this, if Steven were to continue going downhill and his mind fully fell into the fog of corruption, he’d no longer be able to warp. He got super lucky here.

This potential future blindsided Garnet because previously- like how Steven’s newfound maturity threw her off as discussed in Pool Hopping- she hadn’t factored in the idea of Steven being in such a low mental state. Amethyst was the first to really see past his attempts to mask it because she personally had dealt with depression like this before and knew what it looked like.

Maybe one day after SUF airs I'll write more on this topic, but as for now this will remain a one-shot. I 100% imagine Steven would ultimately be okay in this timeline, though. They'd be able to help him, stop the corruption. Steven goes to heckin' therapy. He'll live on, he'll begin to recover and cope. But that's a whole 'nother story.

Thank you for reading!

[gloves94]

Sunburn [Prince Zuko] 21

Warnings: None   Rating: PG-13   Pairings: Zuko/OC   Summary:  “You have everything you’ve ever wanted.” “No.” He said softly. “Not everything…”  His golden eyes looked at her with a melting intensity she had never witnessed before. “I guess not.” She responded with glassy eyes as tears welled up threatening to break the dam of her eyes.

My fanfiction: M A S T E R L I S T

"Have you ever thought about why you're the only person in your family- in the world with that color of hair?" Iroh said.

Tsai wished more than anything that she could see his face or be sitting next to him. She didn't know what hurt her more. Having had to hurt Iroh like that or her melodramatic break up with the prince.

She touched the tips of red auburn-red hair as she looked at the color pondering on the ominous meaning of his words. All along she thought she had inherited it from a distant relative from a faraway land. She always thought they there might be somebody else with the same hair tone but Iroh was right. They had practically gone around the world and had yet to encounter someone with similar hair.

"Tsai, your hair. It's that color because-" He was interrupted by a door being slammed.

"Prisoners are to be kept in isolation!" A guard intruded as she heard them barge into Iroh's cell.

"I feel that your journey will be difficult Tsai. Much more difficult than mine!" He shouted as they seized him.

"No! No!" She pounded on the walls. "Wait!"

"Be strong! Have faith and be brave! But most of all remember who you are! Look for the light! You are the light!" He shouted over his shoulder as he was escorted out of the prison cell dungeon.

"Please! Don't take him!" She pleaded her voice cracking. "Don't leave me alone," she let out a miserable whimper as the tears spilled from her eyes.

"Please…" She managed to let out a squeak. She wrapped her arms around herself feeling more alone than ever. That night Tsai spent the night in the cell in isolation and her tears almost drowned the miserable prison...

xxx

Zuko frowned slightly as he leaned against the ship railing and stared out at the moonlit ocean in front of him. He was finally going home after three long years. It was something he should be happy about, but a part of him rebelled against the emotion.His stomach churned with anxiety at the thought of seeing his father again.

Why did he feel so… filthy?

Why did he feel as if there was a missing part of him? As if he had lost something?

He didn't understand the heartache that consumed most of his internal turmoil and blended emotions.

"Aren't you cold?" A voice suddenly interrupted hit thoughts

The scarred prince turned his head slightly to glance at his ex-girlfriend. Not Tsai. It was Mai his ex-ex-girlfriend. She looked the same as she had before his banished. Her chalk porcelain skin remained emotionless her midnight straight black hair flowing down in two strands like two-night cascades. She walked over to him, hands hidden inside her sleeves and stopped less than a foot away from him cool, calm and collected.

"I've got a lot on my mind," he responded his tone flat as he turned his attention back to the ocean.

"It's been so long, over three years since I was home. I wonder what's changed. I wonder how I've changed."

Mai suddenly yawned and she looked at Zuko with a bored expression, "I just asked if you were cold, I didn't ask for your whole life story."

Zuko pursed his lips and turned away from her, his brow furrowing slightly in annoyance. Thoughts of a certain auburn-haired girl from the Fire Nation colonies flooded his mind. Thoughts about his uncle also seized him. His-No- Their betrayal. Yes. That's how it had been. They betrayed him. He shook his head slightly in an attempt to rid himself of his thoughts and the pulsating headache that was about to become a migraine.

He was so distraught he didn't notice Mai stepping closer to him and wrapping her arms around him.

"Stop worrying." She said with a small smile as she cupped his cheek and turned his face towards her.

He looked away, turning away from her. She leaned in to kiss him. Yet he recoiled. The only thing he could see was Tsai's look of pure horror on her face in the crystal chamber back in the underground lake cave. Mai pulled back with a frown, her expression one of hurt and confusion. They hadn't spoken in over three years; he hadn't seen her in over three years. He didn't feel connected to her anymore.

Then again he was sure he didn't feel anything at all anymore.

"Zuko?" She questioned perplexed, her brow knotting as she didn't understand just what was going through his mind.

Zuko starred at her for a moment. Her eyes weren't warm. Her skin wasn't sun kissed. Her hair wasn't red, but she was standing right before him and maybe- just maybe she'd help. She'd help put the memory of Tsai in a box and become the last nail in the coffin that would be buried away forever.

After all she was a traitor to his country and to his uncle- the apathetic look that she flashed him her empty eyes haunted him.

He hesitated but leaned forward to kiss her. She gently touched his face when she did and smiled faintly at him when she broke the kiss and walked away.

Zuko bowed his head and shut his eyes as he leaned on the ship deck's metal rail. It didn't work. Just like it hadn't worked when he kissed Jin in front of that fountain that night. His insides churned with unease as guilt stirred inside of his consciousness. He had to get rid of her. He had to forget her. Nothing would ever be the same after Ba Sing Se. He had to forget ALL of her.

He suddenly felt a sensation burning in his pocket, he snatched the burning coal out and realized it was her family's necklace. The one he had taken from her as the Blue Spirit. He had forgotten to return it to her and had stayed lost amongst his possessions in Ba Sing Se. He looked at the amber sunstone that decorated the center of the choker and the way that it gleamed. Wild thoughts raged inside his head. He clenched it in a shaking fist and raised it over his head throwing it into the dark depths of the ocean. Yet- his palm did not open. He could not let go. He used every ounce of physical strength he could muster, but his hand would not unclench.

"Why can't I let you go?" He roared in anger as frustration consumed him.

xxx

Isolation was a different type of hell. It was depressing. It consumed your sanity.

Tsai had a schedule of activities she would practice every day in an attempt to keep her sanity at least in the borderline. They would feed her flavorless rice and a bucket of water a day. She would sleep in the cold, dark floor and the only sound she could hear besides the crashing waves was the one of the sea gulls outside flying on the deck. Feeding on whatever scraps had been left over from lunch.

“You have to stay active.” Iroh had instructed. “Keep both your mind and body strong.”

She would awake, scratch another white line on the ground which symbolized another gone day. She would spend a period of time stretching, running from one side of her cell to the other, keeping her muscles strong. Part of it was spent singing and the other thinking.

Thinking was the worst. She couldn't stop thinking about the what if's. What if she had never gotten on that ship? What if she had joined the Avatar when she could? What if she turned really turned on Iroh just like his ungrateful nephew had? What if she had conformed with what she had known about the Fire Nation her whole life and stayed quiet? What did Iroh mean about her strange hair color? She also thought about her dream… The one that had been lost so many times… Maybe Zuko was right. Maybe she would never acknowledge anything extraordinary in her life.

Several weeks had passed now and she suspected they were nearing the Fire Nation's dock.

Tsai was taken to the prison dungeons in the North Tower upon their arrival to the Fire Nation. People threw rotten food and other trash at her and the disgraced Dragon of the West as they were escorted to the tower. Whooping, cursing and trash talk followed them as people cruelly hollered them on.

A part of her thought it was slightly humorous that she had been imprisoned in the Southern Water Tribe, the Earth Kingdom and now in the Fire Nation. All this prison bird was missing from her BINGO was visiting the Air Nomad's jail.

“They will first take you as a prisoner,” Iroh had predicted. “It is very important that you remain true to yourself. That you know what you want and what you have to do.” He had instructed.

She had to play the long waiting game and by their rules. She let out a breath she had been holding and attempted to find comfort in her discomfort. The rats that kept her company, grime and filth in the small cell did not help.

xxx

"Your Princess Azula, clever and beautiful, disguised herself as the enemy and entered the Earth Kingdom's Capital."

Her royal aides, Li and Lo, stood before at the top of the battle tower in the Royal Plaza in the Fire Nation Capital's harbor.  Li addressed the soldiers below "In Ba Sing Se, she found her brother Zuko, and together they faced the Avatar..."

"And the Avatar fell!" They chorused together, "And the Earth Kingdom fell!"

"Azula's agents quickly overtook the city." Lo continued loudly, "They went to Ba Sing Se's great walls..."

"And brought them down!" The two women shouted in unison.

"The armies of the Fire Nation surged through the walls and swarmed over Ba Sing Se, securing our victory." Li exclaimed.

'Several Dai Li agents stood at the top of the Outer Wall then they leapt down, sliding down the wall with their hands and feet pressed against it. When they landed on the ground they quickly lunged forward and slammed their fists against the wall, bringing down several sections and allowing hundreds of Fire Nation soldiers into the once impenetrable city of Ba Sing Se...'

"Now the heroes have returned home!" Li and Lo shouted together.

"Your princess, Azula..." Lo introduced and the crowd below cheered loudly as the young princess stepped forward, a smirk on her face.

"And after three long years," Li continued to speak, "Your prince has returned..."

"Zuko!" Li and Lo shouted together.

Zuko swallowed imperceptibly and walked forward with a vaguely worried expression on his face, his head slightly bowed. How would his people react to his return form exile? He was taken aback in surprise as crowd cheered loudly when he reached the edge of the balcony and he stared down at them for moment then lifted his chin, holding his head up proudly. A small smile on his face. They accepted him. They welcomed him back. This was all that he had ever wanted.

Their honorable prince had finally returned home.

xxx

Zuko sat cross-legged beside the small pond in the palace's square garden he and his mother used to sit by, and he tossed small pieces of bread into the water, watching quietly as the turtle-ducks quacked. His thoughts went to his mother. What would she think of him? What would she have done? Would she be proud?

He sighed and pulled out the sunstone necklace from his pocket. He traced the stone with his thumb and looked at it sadly.

He had so many questions that were unanswered…

“You seem so downcast. Has Mai gotten to you already?" Azula commented with false warmth as she approached her brother and she smiled slyly as she stood in front of him, "Though actually, Mai has been in strangely good mood lately."

Zuko ignored her provocations and stared at the pond lost in thought, "I haven't seen Dad yet. I haven't seen him in three years, since I was banished."

What would he say when they met again?

"So what?" Azula snorted. Thinking her brother's concerns were pathetic.

'"-Your father sent you on a fool's errand to capture the Avatar was because he didn't want you-"' Tsai's harsh words echoed in the back of his head.

What if she was right?

"So," Zuko growled in annoyance, "I didn't capture the Avatar."

"Who cares? The Avatar's dead..." Azula replied flippantly, though her eyes narrowed when she saw her brother look away, "Unless you think he somehow miraculously survived..."

'"This is water from the spirit oasis at the North Pole." Katara explained as she held up a small vial on a leather string for him to see, "It has special properties, so I've been saving it for something important."' He could still remember the waterbender saying to him.

"No." Zuko growled lowly after the memory faded from his mind and he turned his head to glare at his sister, "There's no way he could have survived."

Azula's eyes narrowed and she glared down at her brother for a moment then she shrugged nonchalantly, "Well, then I'm sure you have nothing to worry about."

It was then that Azula’s eyes caught a glimmer in his hand.

“What’s that?” She asked with narrowed eyes.

Zuko instantly pulled his hand away in a defensive tone. “Nothing,” he said much too sharply.

“Let me see!” Azula wasted no time and dove for his hand prying it open.

“Go away Azula!” Her brother argued back as he tried to keep his hands clamped over the jewelry artifact and tugged his way. Azula tugged the opposite way. “Let me see!” She insisted childishly. It was then that Zuko fell back hitting the back of his head against the tree’s back. Azula gave a step back from the sudden momentum yet saw a glimmer go up in the air. With one swift motion she jumped and caught the gem midair with one hand.

Zuko starred at the strappy part of the torn part of choker necklace in his hand and rose to his feet a deep scowl on his face.

“Look what you’ve done!” He exclaimed angrily.

“What is this?” Azula narrowed her eyes and inspected the small orange colored stone between her index and thumb. It was small, round and well-polished.

“None of your business!” He barked.

“A gift for Mai?” She assumed. “Why would you give her such a tacky present?”

Zuko snatched the gem from her hands and shoved it into the depths of his pockets. He wouldn't allow her to have it. To touch it. Even look at it.

“You’ve got awful taste.” His sister said looking down at her brother’s taste in jewelry. That was totally not Mai’s style. “Besides, everybody knows that diamonds are a girl’s best friend. Much classier too,” She said something about this being fun and walked away laughing as she did.

Zuko sighed and secretly looked at the gemstone as he retreated and once again took his seat by the pond. By this point all the turtle ducks were gone and he sat alone.

Zuko pursed his lips and he looked back at his reflection in the water, his anxious thoughts drifting from the ruined heirloom to his reunion with his father when he suddenly saw a familiar reflection appear next to him in the water. He almost fell to the side as he turned in shock. It was her. Tsai was standing next to him clear as day. She stood proudly with her back straight as an arrow as she usually did hands crossed over her chest.

"What do you think the Fire Dad will do to you if the Avatar is alive?" She clicked the back of her tongue in disapproval and shook her head.

"What are you doing here?" He snapped angrily hiding the stone in his pocket again, this time for good.

She rounded around him not breaking eye contact.

"Am I.…really here?" She pondered out loud. "Or am I rotting in the dungeons where you sent me!"

He must be going mad. People in his family had a history of mental turmoil and hallucinations. He wouldn't be surprised if he was actually seeing things.

"You're not real!" He shouted tossing a piece of bread at her which clearly went through her shape.

"Guess I'm real enough to haunt you," she shrugged casually. "What's it like?" She cocked her head to the side hair falling to one side. "Having everything you ever wanted back? Your honor? Your throne? Your family's respect!" She snapped viciously her eyes fixed on his, her expression loaded with contempt.

"Shut up!" He shouted back. He shook his head. He was speaking to nothing. There was no one there. She wasn't real. He was talking to himself. "SHUT UP!" He shouted pulling at his hair shutting his eyes tightly.

When he opened his eyes she was gone.

xxx

"I am so proud of you, Prince Zuko. I am proud because you and your sister conquered Ba Sing Se." Fire Lord Ozai said with pride as he walked around still kneeling son. This was it. The words he had longed to hear. His father's approval and recognition. It was what he had always wanted. So why was he on edge expected to be lashed out at? "I am proud because when your loyalty was tested by your treacherous uncle, you did the right thing and captured the traitor. I am proudest of all of your most legendary accomplishment. You slay the Avatar."

Zuko's eyes widened in shock before he schooled his face into a neutral expression as he turned his head slightly to look at his father over his shoulder.

"What did you hear?" He poked.

"Azula told me everything." The Fire Lord explained lowly, "She said she was amazed and impressed at your power and ferocity at the moment of truth."

Zuko pursed his lips slightly and looked off to the side, his mind whirling with questions.

"Like I said- what will daddy think if the Avatar is alive?" A familiar voice echoed inside his head.

Xxx

"Seems odd doesn't it?"

Zuko stomped through the hallways of the Fire Nation's palace. A figment of his imagination haunted him. A most annoying figment.

"Azula doesn't do things to be kind. Specially not for you." Tsai shrugged as she walked next to him. She looked like she always had. Strong, unapologetic, glowing.

"She's my sister. She wouldn't do that. You don’t know her," he growled out at the nothing. Trying to keep his eyes focused forward. "You're right," the girl answered after a moment. "After all, I'm just a figment of your guilty conscience. I only know what you know." He turned to where the girl was standing and swatted his hand over her repeatedly making her mirage vanish.

Zuko threw open the door to Azula's chambers and narrowed his eyes, "Why'd you do it?" He demanded to know. He hated to admit it but his conscience was right. Azula really did not do things out of kindness for anyone and less for him.

"You're going to have to be a little more specific." Azula commented coolly without opening her eyes or moving from her bed.

"Why did you tell Father that I was the one who killed the Avatar?" Zuko demanded as he walked further into his sister's room, his hands clenched at his sides.

"Can't this wait until the morning?"

"It. Can't." He spat.

"Fine." Azula sighed and she opened her eyes as she sat up in her bed, "You seemed so worried about how Father would treat you because you hadn't captured the Avatar. I figured if I gave you the credit, you'd have nothing to worry about."

"But why?" Zuko asked in confusion.

"Call it a generous gesture." Azula asked smugly as she slipped out of her bed and walked towards her brother, "I wanted to thank you for your help, and I was happy to share the glory."

"Generous? Since when does Azula share her glory?" It was that voice again. Scoffing in the back of his head.

Zuko's eyes narrowed as he regarded his sister, "You're lying."

If you say so..." Azula replied as she walked past him.

"You have another motive for doing this, I just haven't figured out what it is." Zuko growled as he turned to glare at his sister.

"Please Zuko, what ulterior motive could I have? What could I possibly gain by letting you get all the glory for defeating the Avatar?" Azula asked mockingly as she turned around and approached him, putting her hand on his shoulder, "Unless, somehow, the Avatar was actually alive. All that glory would suddenly turn to shame and foolishness. But you said it yourself, that was impossible."

Zuko scowled at his sister as she laid back on her bed and he turned his back on her, preparing to leave the room, "And what did you tell father about Ts-" He faltered slightly and stopped himself. The boulder of guilt on his shoulder's becoming heavier and heavier with every passing moment.

"About the girl that was traveling with uncle. " He corrected.

She appeared in his vision once again. "I have a name you know?"

Azula smiled slyly, "You mean your girlfriend?"

"She's not my girlfriend." Zuko said. This time more quietly.

"You got that damn right!" His torturous vision screeched as she stood next to Azula.

"That's not what I heard," Azula said teasingly. "Did you see the look on her face?" She laughed. "When she was begging you to betray us alongside uncle. It was pathetic. I should've struck her down when I had the chance, but I guess rotting in the dungeons is a fit punishment. Even tho in an interesting turn of events she was the one that brought down Uncle."

Zuko saw Tsai's translucent imaginary hands wrap around Azula's neck as she attempted to strangle her. Zuko clenched his hands into fists at his sides as he stopped in the doorway, his back to his sister. He couldn't see or hear Tsai's voice anymore.

"Of course, father knows about her. He wants to meet her. Wants to find a fit punishment to atone for her family's crimes towards the Fire Nation's crown" Azula continued with a wicked smile as she closed her eyes, "Sleep well, Zuzu."

Zuko swallowed thickly and closed the door behind him, his eyes closing in anguish.

xxx

They came for her suddenly. She didn't even have a moment to react. She resisted kicking, fighting and scratching the soldiers that seized her.

"Where are you taking me?" She shouted.

She was completely stripped off her clothes and thrown into a moist concrete pit where buckets of ice-cold water were thrown at her. She shivered and was told to wash herself. After a pair of semi decent clothing consisting of a dull brown dress with long no sleeves were given to her. It was fastened at the waist with a simple string.

She was escorted into the palace. A palace which as a little girl had more than anything dreamed of visiting one day. It was as mighty as the nation with tall traditional Fire Nation roofs that curved up and reflect a bright red color. Crimson columns, gold and painted dragons danced the royal hallways.

“Knowing my brother, they will grant you an audience… Not to hear you out, but to humiliate you. I warn you. My brother is not the forgiving kind.” She could still remember Iroh’s instructions.

She was taken before Fire Lord Ozai.

The Fire Lord's face was striking with the embers that surrounded him. His cheeks were prominent and hollow, eyes were a pale yellow like a snake’s and his midnight dark hair was work in a half up updo as if was traditionally worn. He looked down at her as if she was an insect ready to be squished.

She could definitely see the family resemblance between him and his children.

“Play them like a game of Pai Sho.”

How many times had she been instructed to bow before the Fire Lord in her childhood if he was ever to visit the colonies. Of course, the man never did. How many days had she pledged her allegiance to the Fire Nation before school started as a child. Hell- she had drawn the face of their powerful leader countless of times, and now she stood before him. It was all a little unreal.

Azula stood to his right, Zuko to the left. The three of them standing before her. She suddenly fell to her knees being pushed to the floor by a guard. She glared at the man from underneath her bangs which had grown long and now covered most of her face.

"I should have your head," Ozai suddenly spoke. "For your dishonor and disrespect. Your family's too." He stroked his dark slim beard with one hand.

She remained silent.

It pained her but she had to play the long game...

Zuko looked at her. He did not look like she remembered. Her cheeks were thin, her eyes were wild, and her hair had grown dull and longer past her shoulders. She didn't glow like she seemed to in his mind, in his memories. She almost looked feral. Like a wounded animal.

"This is the harlot you decided to keep as company?" He tossed at his son who had been holding his breath this entire time. Ozai had asked a question, yet it sounded like a statement.

'Coward..' Tsai thought bitterly. 'To think that she had… That she had lov-' her eyes snapped back to Ozai. She couldn't afford to be distracted.

"I can see why you kept her. She's quite striking. And you know what they say about colonial women they are.." He paused for a moment. "Less sophisticated than us. In more ways than one," a ghost smirk made way to his face. "I should teach you a lesson." The Fire Lord stood, his fist gleaming with a burning fire.

This was Zuko's worst nightmare. He looked at his father with fearful eyes while attempting to wear a stoic mask of indifference. He wanted to say something. To speak up but he couldn't. He had already suffered the consequences of speaking up once without being spoken to and the results had been dire. Tsai didn't move. Her body stiffened at the sight of the flames. She remained silent as she wondered how Iroh could be related to this monster?

"Your existence is a mere insult to my nation. A half-bred mongrel with blood from the Earth Kingdom. Your existence is a stain in the history of a line of prestigious Fire Nation military men."

'Don't speak about my family,' she wanted to snarl. His cruel words were tearing at her as he insulted her pride, her home, her heritage and family all being shredded before her. It hurt. Standing in silence went against her nature. What she was about to do went against everything she had learned and grown in the past year. It broke her, but it was something she had to do. She had to at least make them think she was on their side.

"Fire Lord Ozai." She then rose to her feet and bowed her head to him with nothing but respect. Keeping it lowered hoping he wouldn't see past her façade.

She knew that this family was obsessed with honor and decided to have a play at it.

"It is truly an honor to be in your presence."

Zuko kept his hands behind his back as he starred with his jaw going slack. He couldn't believe what he was witnessing.

"I captured the traitor and bow before you and acknowledge my sins against the Crown and my Nation whom I hold so dear." She looked up at met his pale-yellow eyes. Here she stood before the most powerful man in the world lowering her head pathetically, groveling to him. Lying. It made her sick to her core. She couldn't believe what she was going to say next. "And I hope... I hope the Crown will pardon me and grant me the opportunity to regain my honor."

The prince kept a composed expression, yet he clenched his fisted hands behind his back tightly. Nails burying into his palms. His heart racing against his rib cage uncomfortably.

"You freed the Avatar." Ozai stated. "At the Pohuai Stronghold. Because of you the siege for the North Pole failed."

"My intentions were noble." She said bravely standing her ground as she pushed her hair back out of her face. "I couldn't allow a filthy man like Zhao to have that glory and honor of capturing the Avatar. Not when it didn't belong to him."

"Who did it belong to then?" The Fire Lord asked leaning forward slightly in what appeared to be intrigued.

"Your son. Our Prince. I saw it upon my duty to protect his honor." She lowered her head once again and the Lord let out what sounded like a blend between a humorous huff and a scoff.

"My son doesn't need anybody to protect his honor. Much less a colonial harlot."

The words didn't sting. Yet fueled her internal anger.

"And the Blue Spirit?" He asked after a moment of quiet.

Zuko stiffened next to his father.

"It was me." She once again lied through her teeth.

Zuko's face went white. What was this idiot doing? She was going to get herself killed. He could feel a bead of sweat sliding down his temple. His voice gone. He didn't want to look at his merciless father. Ozai spoke and he expected the worst. He was beginning to feel his knees growing weak. After all he was capable of anything. He had to do something. He had to speak up- but his voice. He was afraid that if he opened his mouth it would betray him and it wouldn't sound out.

"Killing you would be kind," The Fire Lord breathed almost in a sympathetic tone.

"What do you think we should do?" He questioned out loud. Azula slightly bounced ready to present her list of vile ideas and ploys in which she could torture and humiliate one of the Fire Nation's biggest traitors.

"Zuko..?" He turned to test his son.

It was then that their eyes suddenly met, and he felt a pang in his chest. His eyes went slightly wide. Heart almost stopping. Her eyes. They held no sympathy for him, no care. They weren't the same ones he had looked into countless of times before. His father was testing him. He had to answer something. Now more than ever he couldn't be wrong. He had once promised her he wasn't going to let anyone, or anything hurt her when they arrived to the Fire Nation. He had promised they were going to get it all back. If there was a time to act upon his promise it was now more than ever.

"She's to spend the rest of her days in the dungeons. In isolation," he answered coldly. 'At least she would be safe there…'

The Fire Lord remained silent. His displacement obvious.

"Boring," Azula laughed. "Is that the best you can come up with?"

"I have a better idea," she stepped forward. Malice clear in her voice. She waved the guards away with her hand and walked around Tsai mockingly. The girl only kept her eyes frozen forward on the Fire Lord's pale ones.

"She's harmless really," Azula laughed and pushed her forward making her tumble. She then kicked the back of the girl's head stepping on it pressing her face against the palace's cold marble floors.

Zuko fought the urge to run towards her. To help her. To knock his vile sister on her back. To fight the aching that longed for her inside him. The sunstone burning hot in his pocket.

"All I want is a shot at redemption," She tried to speak as eloquently as possible. "I would be spitting at the graves of my ancestors if I continued to pretend I'm something I'm not. Back in Ba Sing Se I realized that what I wanted more than anything was to serve my nation. The Fire Nation. The greatest Nation of them all. Just like my father and fore father's before him."

Ozai looked at her with intrigue as he once again stroked his beard.

"Without me. The Disgraced General would've never been captured." Azula stepped harder on the back of her cranium.

"I need a new servant daddy. Can I keep her?" Azula pouted as she stepped harder on her head. The red head let out a snarl from the back of her throat. "I have always wanted a pet."

"I don't have time for such trivial things," Ozai dismissed bored. "Do as you wish Azula."

Zuko could feel his father's eyes on him. He had just gotten in his good graces. He couldn't afford to disappoint him again.

"She'll be our servant." Zuko managed to find his voice. He looked at her hard, his chest swelling with a shaky breath he was holding. "You will be stripped of all of your noble and royal titles and you will work every day for the rest of your life as a peasant. Serving us. Until you are deemed of being considered honorable."

"Which will be never!" Azula cackled proud of her brother stepping up.

Ozai relaxed back into his seat appearing pleased with his son’s punishment.

"I…" She rasped and heaved anger dripping from her words. This was humiliating. "I pledge my loyalty to the Fire Nation and to the ruling Crown." She lowered her head. "It will be my honor."

Ozai's malicious grin stretched even further. An expression which sent cold chills down her spine.

Azula stepped harder on the back of her head. "You're going to wish you were dead by the time I'm done with you!" Azula cackled maliciously. She finally stepped off her and kicked her side laughing. She kept her head low not wanting to meet Zuko's eyes. She couldn't bear the sight of him.

The colonial girl was taken to a private servant quarter near the royal chambers. She had no belongings. No name to her. Nothing. Not even a mirror in her new prison. On the way to her new 'prison' she thought a thousand and one ways in which she could poison Azula. Not that she would get away with it, but if she was going down, she might as well take the bitch down as well.

Zuko remained petrified. His heart was pounding in his chest. Sweat had formed on his brow and he was finally able to unclench his tight jaw. All while his father's cold eyes scrutinized on him.

"Don't tell me you actually grew to care for that colonial half-breed mongrel," his father spat out venomously.

"No," Zuko answered back, eyes hard and cold. "She means nothing to me."

xxx

AN: I am NOT okay 😭😭😭

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CHAPTER MASTERLIST

[purplesurveys]

1149

A

What is your age? 22, but there’s less than a month to go before I turn 23.

What annoys you? Literally every single person who still supports the government at this point. For context, we are back to square one and we’re under the exact same quarantine imposed in March 2020 because of the surge in cases. Nothing has changed and nothing has been done in the last 365 days while people are getting hungrier and poorer. I’m done feeling hopeful for this country and I cannot wait to abandon it forever.

Do you have any allergies? Apparently, grass. Can’t be exposed to it for too long otherwise the skin on my thighs turn red and occasionally even get rashes.

B

Do you know anyone named Billy? Kind of, but they’re girls with their name spelled as Billie.

When is your birthday? April 21st and spending it in quarantine once again this year...

Who is your best friend(s)? Angela and Andi.

C

What's your favorite candy? I like gummy bears and worms. As for sweets, I really like Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, Butterfinger, Twix, and the Hershey’s Cookies and Creme bar.

When was the last time you cried? Maybe a day or two ago while watching a snippet from Caught in Providence.

Have you been out of the country? Yes.

D

Do you daydream? Not so much these days. I’ve been better at keeping my focus at work.

What's your favorite kind of dog? I love alllllll dogs, but I’d usually be wary of smaller dogs because 87% of the times I’ve met some, they’re aggressive or a bit moody. I don’t like stereotyping dogs as much as possible but because I’ve had direct experiences to back it up anyway, *shrug*

What day of the week is it? It’s a Sunday.

E

How do you like your eggs? Scrambled, poached, or an omelette with lots of fillings. Balut is also great.

Have you ever been in the emergency room? Only when I was born, I’m guessing.

What's the easiest thing ever to do? Idk, what comes easy to me might not be the same for others. But my answer would be to smile, regardless if it were genuine or otherwise.

F

Have you ever flown in a plane? Yeah, many times. The child-like excitement I get whenever I get on one will probably never go away, either.

Do you use fly swatters? No, my mom usually uses old shoebox covers or rolled-up scratch papers we have lying around to swat them.

Have you ever used a foghorn?: Only in video games lol, never in real life.

G

Have you pet a goat? I don’t think I have. I’ve pet lots of animals before but I don’t think a goat has been one of them yet.

Are you a giver or a taker? Giver, but I’ve been allowing myself to take more these days.

Do you like gummy candies? Love them.

H

How are you? We’ve entered summer weather now, so I feel hot and miserable. It’s also Sunday and I am stuck at home, which doesn’t make me the happiest camper.

What's your height? 5′1″ or a tiny tiny tiny bit taller than that.

What color is your hair? It’s black but on extremely rare occasions I’ll catch a single light brown strand when I play with my hair.

I

What's your favorite ice cream? Cookies and cream and chocolate chip cookie dough. My friend Leigh actually started her own ice cream shop recently and I bought her coffee crumble ice cream, and it is sooooooooo fuckinggggggggg good??????? It’s so rare to find coffee ice cream where I live period, so I’m fucking stoked to have a close friend who makes literally the best one and in generous servings too.

Have you ever ice skated? Many times as a kid. I was never formally trained, but it was something I wanted to try from watching other kids play in mall ice skating rinks; and when I did give it a shot, I ended up enjoying it. Luckily my mom was encouraging and actually frequently dropped me off at a rink so I can practice gliding and all for a few hours while she ran errands.

Have you cheated the IRS? That’s like an American tax thingy, right? We don’t have that here and my employer handles my TIN.

J

What's your favorite jelly bean? Not a big fan but if I had to have Jelly Belly, I obviously would want to get the pleasant-tasting ones.

Do you tell jokes? Yes.

Do you wear nice jewelry? Only on special occasions.

K

Do you want to kill anybody? I don’t want to kill anybody but I certainly wish a good number of public officials would finally die.

Do you want to have kids? Yes. I really wish I could still have a future with them. Thanks for the trauma, my real asshole of an ex.

Where did you have kindergarten? Somewhere.

L

Are you laidback? I doubt my friends would use this to describe me. I for sure lean more towards the uptight side of the spectrum.

Do you lie? Eh, occasionally.

When is the last time you sent a hand-written letter? I have no idea. Christmas 2019 maybe?

M

Ever talked in a microphone? Sure. Many times.

Do you still watch Disney Movies? I very rarely get in the mood for them if I’m by myself, but yes, I’d gladly sit down and watch should an opportunity come.

Do you like mangoes? No.

N

Do you have a nickname? 99% of people call me Robyn while my family calls me Byn, but there are a select few friends who’ve stayed long enough with me to catch other names I’ve gotten over the years, which have since become inside jokes/nicknames. There’s Reben and Rolayn, and literally just yesterday ‘Roby’ happened when I ordered food for lunch so that will probably catch on as well.

What’s your favorite number? 4.

Do you prefer night over day? Absolutely.

O

Are you an only child? No, I’m two siblings away from that status.

Do you wish this was over? I haven’t felt that way, no.

What is the closet orange object near you? An orange tumbler my Kuya gave me as a Christmas gift in 2019. There is also orange tape wrapped around the charger adaptor of my company laptop.

P

What one fear are you most paranoid about? Waking up in the middle of surgery and being unable to speak nor move.

Do you play any instruments? Nope.

Do you think you are pretty? Some days.

Q

Are you quick to judge people? No, unless they are already blatantly showing their character like being rude towards service staff, tossing their trash to the ground, or cutting in queues. Whenever those things happen I give myself the space and freedom to guiltlessly judge.

What do you keep quiet about? How dysfunctional my family really is, and the things I really want to say about Gabie.

Do you have any quirks? Food-wise, I like peeling off the breading from fried chicken and placing them on the side of my plate so I can eat them last, because they’re my favorite part.

R

What’s a good reason to cry? Frustration. Crying can be really helpful in lessening stress.

Do you think you're always right? No.

Do you watch reality TV? Not religiously, but I love watching snippets of reality shows on Facebook because they’re all so embarrassing and it’s hilarious to watch hahahahah. Literally last night I was watching clips of Big Ed on 90 Day Fiance.

S

Are you a social person? More so now than I was years ago.

What states have you lived in? I lived in Manila briefly but it didn’t take long till we transferred to another city for a more peaceful life in the suburbs.

What is your favorite season? I wanna say winter because of what I’ve seen from it in movies and shows, but I’ve never actually experienced it before.

T

When did you last sleep in a tent? Sometime in March or April last year.

Do you like tomatoes? Mostly in diced form. Tomato sauce is fine but I don’t really like it in my pasta. Bloody Mary also tastes rather awful.

What time did you wake up? 8:30 AM.

U

Do you have an umbrella in your car? I think so, yeah. I finally placed one in there lmao.

Do listen to Usher? Eh, not really. 2000s R&B isn’t my thing, save for Beyoncé.

Describe the underwear your wearing? It’s light blue.

V

What’s the worst veggie? I never learned to like pechay. I’d still eat it, but only because I like cleaning up my entire plate.

Do you like movies with violence? Some. Like I hate action movies but I enjoyed A Clockwork Orange and Scream lol.

Where do you want to go on vacation? I recently bookmarked an Airbnb in Zambales and the accommodation is basically this super cute line of tipi-styled huts by the beach. I'd love to have a solo trip push through once this Covid mess subsides.

W

Ever been on a wave runner? No.

Where do you work? I work in a PR company.

Do you wish on stars? Just sometimes.

X

Have you ever had an x-ray? Only for mandatory medical exams.

Do you own a xylophone? I think I had a toy one as a kid, but it’s not with me anymore.

Have you watched the x-games? No, not interested.

Y

What did you do yesterday? I stayed at home; ordered food for Angela as a surprise; debated if I should buy a pair of Air Maxes – and ultimately decided I’ve already spent too much this month to deserve a new pair of shows lol; and just settled to buy a new night lamp for my bedroom. I also watched the newest episode of 2 Days 1 Night and ate more of Leigh’s ice cream while doing work.

Do you like the color yellow? Only in mustard yellow. I also like the song Yellow, heh.

What year were you born?: 1998.

Z

Do you believe in the zodiac? No.

Has your bank account been at zero? No. I remember when I was first opening my own account at the bank and the clerk told me to make sure I don’t go below P2,000, and my intensely by-the-book ass has been following the rule ever since, even though my dad has told me it’s absolutely fine to go below it so long as I have P2,000 back in the account after a month hahaha.

Ever been to the zoo? A few.

[artificialqueens]

two sides of a coin (without a face to land on), Chapter 1 (Crystal x Gigi) - blackley

A/N: hi everyone, i’m a new writer around these parts who finally got the courage to post something they wrote. much more to come. this is a supernatural angel/devil AU. I don’t have a specific direction for this fic yet but i’m thinking it’ll be a slow burn, fluff/angst fic packed with plot! this is also on AO3, so feel free to head over there too.

It was never meant to end like this. There were so many things Crystal was supposed to do. Ride a rollercoaster, get her heart broken, have her stomach pumped. Settle down, get a dog, have children and grow old. Die in a plane crash before you’re 29 wasn’t on that list. Yet, here she lay, accompanied only by the darkness around her. It was supposed to go differently.

“Come on, Crystal,” The sound of her best friend pulled Crystal out of her daze. She took a moment to familiarise herself with her surroundings. They stood in a food court, far from the gates. She turned to look at her friend with a wide grin, hoping to hide her lapse in concentration. “The gate’s up. Let’s go!” Gigi said, gesturing for Crystal to follow her. She nodded quickly, letting out a short breath, before gripping the handle of her small suitcase and skipping along to catch up. They walked at a comfortable pace through the walkways, since they had gotten to the Los Angeles International Airport in plenty of time, and exchanged small talk on the way. Crystal couldn’t help but daydream again.

Gigi Goode was the name of Crystal’s friend. She was a goddess in every sense of the word, and Gigi knew it, too. Tall and leggy, with the face of a model enhanced excellently with her inch-perfect makeup. She had this aura, one that exuded such beauty and grace while never coming off as impertinent. Crystal was sure she had flaws, but in two years of friendship, she hadn’t worked out what they were. Gigi’s skin was flawless, her hair glistened, and her eyes looked like the kind of thing Crystal would want to get lost in. As Gigi looked ahead, Crystal studied her companion’s face, frowning inquisitively. Crystal thought she could love Gigi. Perhaps, she already did.

Before long, their walk to the gate came to an end. It was still fairly quiet, with many seats empty. The pair picked out two spots and grouped their things together. The boarding wasn’t to start for another 45 minutes or so.

“Hey, Gigi,” Crystal piped up. “You want to play some Mario Kart?” She held up her Nintendo Switch in one hand, stupid grin plastered on her face. Gigi nodded excitedly, and Crystal set up. She balanced the screen on top of one of their carry-on suitcases, and handed Gigi one of the JoyCons. Sweet Sweet Canyon, Mount Wario, Shy Guy Ruins and Cloudtop Cruise came and went, and the two girls were neck and neck with two victories each. Crystal had forgotten how good Gigi was at this game.

“Right, that’s it.” Crystal giggled, slapping her friend’s leg softly. “No fucking around. It’s Rainbow Road time, girl.” 

Gigi twitched an eyebrow and smirked, talking in a manufactured proper tone. “Crystal Elizabeth, I am the master of this game. You cannot hope to beat me.” The younger girl pretended to flex a bicep, much to Crystal’s amusement.

“I’ve beaten you twice, you bitch!” Crystal let out a laugh. “It’s the final showdown!”

Gigi’s expression turned blank, and her voice lowered. “If you lose, we’re no longer friends. I can’t be friends with a loser.” Crystal’s grin turned into some sort of confused scowl for a brief second, before Gigi bellowed out a hearty chortle. “I’m joking with you, loser.”

Crystal put a hand on her chest and released a long exhale in relief. “Good. I swear, you almost gave me a heart attack.”

“But,” Gigi leaned in with a mischievous smile. “I won’t let you forget this defeat until the day you die.” 

Crystal let out a cutesy chuckle. “Deal, Miss Goode.” With that, the Mario Kart race of the century began. The Missouri girl tried her best to keep her wandering thoughts at bay, but her mind let her down again. Gigi shot into the lead, cackling on the way.

The pair had been friends for a number of years, after Crystal had gone to visit some family in LA. Gigi happened to live across the street, and the pair spent almost every morning enjoying each other’s company. They talked about anything and everything, and Crystal remembered that it was the most at peace she had ever felt. Gigi seemed to really care about what Crystal had to say, and what her life was like. It was all Crystal had ever wanted; to feel present in someone’s thoughts. She had spent far too many of her days floating, like a spirit. With Gigi, she felt like she was whole, solid and human.

Six months ago, Gigi had gone full-time with her modelling career. During the initial months of their friendship, Gigi had modelled here and there, but nothing professional. She used to insist to Crystal that she wasn’t “nearly pretty enough” for it, but Crystal knew otherwise. She always believed Gigi would make it, and Gigi thanked her dedication by bringing her on as many modelling trips as possible. Crystal packed up her things in Missouri and moved to LA to be closer to her best friend, because, in Crystal’s justification, if someone makes you feel so grounded, why would you be apart from them? And so this time, they were to go to Milan for a show. Gigi had screamed down the phone at Crystal, so excited she could burst.

“I’ve always wanted to go to Milan, Crystal!”

“I know, G. Don’t you remember? You used to tell me on the lawn.” Crystal had said through the widest grin. Proud was the only word Crystal could associate with the feeling.

There was an apprehension in Crystal’s mind, though. She loved all these feelings and thoughts she had about Gigi, but like a shadow on a sunny day, one devilish thought reared its ugly head too often. She’s too good for you, it would say. She keeps you around because she feels sorry for you.

What a pathetic excuse for a person you are. One day she will leave and never come back for you. She won’t think twice. She doesn’t care. How could she ever love someone like-

“Yeeeaaaahhh!” Gigi screeched in victory. Crystal blinked confusedly, retracting with a small shake of the head. Fifth. Gigi sprung up from her seat, and stuck her tongue out at Crystal. “Loserrrr!” She jeered playfully.

Crystal scoffed unconvincingly. She followed it with a small smile, having had her ponderings interrupted. “Yeah, I am.”

“What happened, Crys?” Gigi questioned, the joking tone in her voice fading.

“Nothing.” Crystal sounded far too defensive for her liking. Before Gigi could open her mouth to respond, Crystal gestured towards the gate. “Look, we’re meant to be boarding in a minute.” She quickly changed the tone. Gigi gave up with the question, and helped Crystal pack away the device and gather their things.

—

The two girls took their seats on the plane, an Airbus A330. It was of a fair size, Crystal estimated it could carry two-hundred and fifty passengers and crew, perhaps more. They were sitting in the middle of the plane, more towards the front, in a three seat row. Bizarrely, the empty seat closest to the walkway was never filled as the aircraft was prepared for takeoff, with Crystal sitting in the middle seat and Gigi by the window. With all the luggage stowed away, and all passengers safely in their seats, the plane turned onto the runway.

Crystal felt a touch on her hand, which was firmly clutching onto the arm rest. She glanced over to her right to see Gigi looking softly at her. Her friend proceeded to grab her hand completely.

“You feeling okay?” Gigi asked. Crystal nodded apprehensively, which was responded by Gigi with a nervous dip of the head. “Great, because I don’t. God, I hate flying sometimes.”

Crystal’s expression melted into a smile. She released the arm rest to turn her hand into Gigi’s, grasping it tightly. “I got you.” She said, hiding her own concerns. Gigi rested her head on Crystal’s shoulder for a moment to express her gratitude. Slowly, the aircraft began to speed up. Faster, faster, faster, and within the minute it was in the air, with no problems. Once it had reached altitude, the pair sighed in relief, then looked at each other and laughed.

“You’re an idiot, Miss Goode.”

“I know.”

It was a long flight, nearly 20 hours, so the two girls hunkered down and got comfortable when it was appropriate. Crystal moved to the empty seat to give the two a little more room - Gigi wasn’t famous enough for business class, yet. It was hard to talk much, given the noise, but the two managed to chat in intervals, sometimes about Italy, or Gigi, or Crystal. They passed the time watching movies and playing games.

About 15 hours into the flight, and after a brief nap, the aircraft began to shake. 

“Hi all, not to worry. We’re just experiencing a little pocket of turbulence as we enter Portuguese airspace. Sit tight and fasten your seatbelts, we’ll clear this shortly.”  The pilot reassured everyone. Crystal and Gigi complied with no qualms. And that seemed to be the case, as the area was cleared in around ten minutes and everything appeared to go back to normal. One girl peered at the other, but was comforted by their presence.

All of a sudden, their expressions turned to confusion. Crystal could feel that dropping feeling in her stomach. Gigi scowled, jerking around quickly to stare out of her window. Crystal followed suit, cranking her neck to catch a glimpse. Faces turned to those of horror, as the girls noticed the clouds passing them overhead. It was almost like…

No, it can’t be. Crystal’s eyes widened. Are we…dropping out of the sky? The rest was a blur to Crystal. She remembered hearing the pilot over the tannoy, telling them to brace. 

“…small failure to the right engine…”

Knuckles turned white as Crystal had Gigi’s hand in a vice grip. She could see the tears brimming in her friend’s eyes. She was so focused on Gigi that she failed to take in any of the mass panic around her from the other passengers.

“…a controlled landing…”

Crystal was too shocked to cry, frozen in fear. Everything she was scared of was in front of her, in this moment. Gigi’s distress, literally dropping out of the sky, all the things she should have done. Get a dog, have children, grow old… No, no, no! She could feel the g-force around her, so strong. With her back pinned to her seat and her neck unmoving, Crystal summoned all the effort within her to glimpse at Gigi. She was completely unconscious, overcome by the physics. Crystal grimaced.

She wanted to tell Gigi she loved her. The one thing she promised to do before she died. However hard she tried, though, her mouth would not open to say the words. Was it the force? Was it the fear? Nevertheless, Crystal felt her eyes were wet with tears, but they could not fall. And so, stuck to her seat, wallowing in her failings, Crystal became drowsy.

“What do you want for your life, Crystal?” A memory of Gigi conjured itself in Crystal’s weakening contemplation. Crystal was put at ease right away, recognising the scenery. They were on the lawn in LA again, younger. Gigi was still beautiful, still an angel. What was Crystal saying? She always was. “Crystal?” The younger girl asked again. Crystal muttered a swift apology.

“I don’t know, G. I want to do a lot of things, like go to Europe, and get a dog, and ride a rollercoaster-”

“You’ve never ridden a rollercoaster before?” Gigi scoffed and reclined in shock. “Girl, you’re missing out.”

“Shut up!” Crystal interrupted, laughing. She let herself giggle for another moment before sighing, switching to a more serious tone. “But I want to be happy. Like, really happy. With a family and love and everything.” Gigi cocked her head. She leaned back onto the grass with a satisfied smile and hummed a sound of agreement. Crystal opened her mouth to speak again. “I just don’t want regrets when I die. That I didn’t do one thing and did the other. Or I missed out on meeting someone. Or I let my feelings get in the way of something amazing. I just don’t want to be dying and thinking about-”

…all the things I should have done. Her eyes fluttered shut and her body hurtled into the ground. Enveloped by the warm embrace of death, Crystal’s feelings ran blank. Finally free from twenty-eight years of the anxieties and the inner saboteur, from the hyper-analysations and the over-thinking. If Crystal could form a thought in this moment, she might think that this was peace, in some sort of fucked up way. A fitting end for someone who was always just a little bit too scared.

—-

“Can you just work with me for a moment, Nicky?” A frustrated voice rang out. “There’s a lot of souls to harvest here, you know, plane crash and all.” The voice tutted loudly, eliciting a response from a second voice. Crystal could…hear? What was going on?

“Calm down, Jan.” ‘Nicky’ drawled. “Check the list. How many have we got left?”

The flipping of paper went on for a short time, before voice number one, ‘Jan’, spoke up. “Two-hundred and sixty-seven in total, and we’ve got one-hundred and three so far.”

“See?” Nicky chirped. She spoke with a subtle accent. “That’s not bad, we’ll be done soon.”

The gritting of Jan’s teeth could be heard from miles away. “Yes, Nicky.” The aggression was obvious with this one. “But we’ve already been here for seven hours!”

“Since when do you have a concept of time? We’re dead, idiot. We have all the time in the world.” Voice number two hissed. Jan growled, fumbling around with her paper. “Look, this one.” The voices grew louder.

“Crystal Elizabeth, number one-hundred and four.” Crystal could hear the sound of scrawling on a surface, and wanted to call out to them. Help me! Please! Why can’t you hear me? Why can’t I say anything?

“A tree branch through the abdomen. Bled out.” Nicky clicked her tongue. “Looks young, too.”

Jan hummed a sound of affirmation. “Twenty-eight.” She sighed, flipping over yet another sheet of paper. “Marked for you, Nicky.”

“For the Below? Hm,” Crystal felt the presence of Nicky come closer to her, but could not reach out to her. Seriously, why can’t I move? “Even evil can look innocent.”

E-Evil? “Now, now, Nicky. You know that sometimes we just have to balance the books, as it were. Maybe she isn’t so bad.” Jan reasoned with Nicky. The voice with the accent - French? - cleared their throat.

“I guess we’ll have to see. You’re coming with me, Crystal Elizabeth.”

With that, both voices disappear, and the serene darkness around her fell silent once more. As Crystal tried to move, her lifeless body did not respond. She tried to reason with herself, these are one of those end-of-life dreams, right? She knew she had to be dead. There was no way she could have survived such a crash.

The realisation hits her, then. Gigi. Oh, poor Gigi. She was gone, surely, and Crystal would never see her again. Crystal was not religious, in any sense of the word. In fact, quite the opposite. “When you die, you just rot!” she used to say.

Oh, how she hoped that now, more than ever, she was horribly wrong.

[nocturna-starr]

The Happiest of Birthdays

Prompt: Someone takes Dani to Build a Bear

Prompter: @currentlylurking

Length: 3097

Warnings: None

Today was one of the days Danielle regretted ever being adopted by wealthy parents. Her parents were gone, once again, on another business trip. Usually, that would mean she could travel anywhere in the city she desired, but her parents had increased the bodyguards watching her. The ghost girl couldn’t give the slip to ten bodyguards! She was stuck in the mansion.

It was her birthday, though no one knew. Danielle had claimed she didn’t know the day she was born to hide from Vlad. They were definitely not on talking terms and Danielle was doing everything in her power to avoid him. When she was adopted, her parents decided that her adoption day would be her new birthday.

She couldn’t blame them for missing her birthday. If she called phoned them now, they would be on the next flight home. Danielle couldn’t do that to them; they had spent years trying to get this contract. She would never forgive herself if the company lost a once in a lifetime opportunity because of her.

That was why she chose to spend the day locked in her bedroom and away from prying eyes. She didn’t have to wear anything elegant to impress anyone. She could put on her own sweater and red beanie. Her hair was allowed to be in a ponytail. Danielle could be her old self for a day.

Her old lonely self…

At first, Danielle had tried to occupy herself with the television. You could only watch so many episodes of The Waltons before one became bored to tears. Video games never interested her as much as they did Danny. The only thing left to do was a doodle, and she just didn’t feel inspired.

“May I come in Miss Danielle?” Casey asked, gently knocking on the door.

Danielle cringed. Casey was one of the only people in the household staff that wasn’t afraid to reprimand her for manners. She had already been the victim of a lecture in table manners earlier that morning. If Casey saw her now, the older woman would very well have an aneurism

“I’m sorry Casey but I am in the middle of something important. May you come back at another time?” Danielle hated how small she sounded.

“Very well Miss. Perhaps you could check under your bed for any misplace objects? It would make tidying the room easier.” Casey was also the only person who would order Danielle to do any cleaning up. The girl had tried resisting once, but after the hot sauce event, she just did what the woman wanted.

Danielle sighed but got off her bed then went on her hands and knees. She pulled out dirty clothes and a few books that had made their way down there. Then she noticed an old cardboard box. Originally, Danielle hid it underneath the bed to hide her freakiness from her new parents. She had forgotten she put it down there!

With a little effort, Danielle pulled the box out from beneath. It was heavier than she remembered. Perhaps she was too far out of practice. Delicately, Danielle unfolded the top. Part of her was curious to see what she deemed so important to hold onto from her old life.

The first thing she saw was her Fenton Thermos. The thing seemed to be operational if the full light was still working. Oops. She pulled out her old journal. Flipping through the pages reminded her about how much her handwriting had improved. She smiled when she spotted her favourite old t-shirt. How could she have forgotten it? It was the first gift she had ever received for her birthday…

“Happy Birthday to You!” Phantom and the Red Huntress sang as Phantom presented her with a birthday cake. Danielle beamed at her closest friends.

The three were currently sitting on a picnic bench in Amity Park’s only park. Their only company were the stars above them. Only Dani was in her civilian form. From what she understood, Danny and Valerie were in a tentative truce, neither was comfortable with the other. Still, the clone was touched that they would put their rivalry aside for her.

Both her closest friends stared at her. Dani looked back confused. What did they want her to do? She wasn’t going to grab a piece, there were flaming candles on that cake! The trio stood for a moment before Phantom was hit with a revelation.

“Make a wish,” He told her, green eyes twinkling, “Then blow out the candles!”

Blow out the candles? Wasn’t that unsanitary? Who knew what diseases she could accidentally give to Phantom or the Red Huntress! Still, a tradition was tradition… She closed her eyes and silently thanked the stars for friends like Danny and Valerie. She took a deep breath and blew out all the candles.

“What did you wish for?” the Red Huntress said. Danielle could almost hear the grin in her voice.

“Valerie! Don’t you know it’s against the rules for the Birthday Girl to tell her what she wished! Then it won’t come true!” Danny childishly reprimanded. The three sat in stunned silence, before bursting out laughing.

“You sounded like a four-year-old!” the Red Huntress giggled.

Danny only grinned in response. Dani had never seen her cousin like this before. It was awesome to see him so free and know he was a superhero. She thanked her lucky stars that she managed to live that long.

“In my family,” Valerie began, “It’s tradition to open one gift before cake.” She presented a prettily wrapped box. Phantom pulled out a gift bag from beneath the table. Both looked at her expectantly. They wanted her to choose?

Dani reached for the gift from Phantom. The Red Huntress nodded as if she expected her decision. Carefully, Dani took out all the blue tissue paper. Hidden among the flimsy paper was a t-shirt. It was gray, with the NASA logo on it.

“I heard you liked space.” Danny winked.

She tackled him in a hug, “THANK YOU SO MUCH!”

She always felt a little guilty for liking the exact same things as Danny. She often wondered if he resented her for not finding her own path. The shirt was a reassurance that he was not angry with her, rather he was encouraging her. It meant more than anyone would ever know.

“As sweet as this is, I think it’s time to cut the cake!” Valerie called.

Part of her felt guilty for forgetting Danny’s gift. She still wore one of the various necklaces Valerie gave her. She took off the sweater and put on the NASA t-shirt. It still fit her like a glove. The next time she went to Amity Park she would wear it.

Danielle turned back to see the rest of the contents in the box. She still had the credit card that she stole from Vlad. Did he even realize he was missing it? Danielle highly doubted that the billionaire noticed the few hundred taken every once in a while. Without a second thought, Danielle snapped it in half. Her collection of random Pokémon cards was haphazardly thrown in there. Then Danielle’s eyes caught on a photograph from her fourteenth birthday…

Danny, Dani and Valerie were standing in line for the biggest roller coaster in the entire state of Illinois, ‘The Raging Bull’. She was practically jumping up and down with excitement, and Valerie was keeping herself just as calm. Danny, on the other hand, was looking almost as pale as his hair.

Valerie noticed this and took it as an opportunity to tease the ‘Great Danny Phantom’. “What’s wrong? The hero of Amity Park afraid of heights?”

“I don’t like roller coasters,” Phantom replied, not taking the bait.

Dani barely paid attention to them. It was almost their turn! She could feel her heart flutter in anticipation. Valerie said that going on a roller coaster was just like flying but with no control. The phrasing intrigued Dani, so she begged to go to an amusement park for her birthday. Valerie was willing to grant the wish and guilt a reluctant Phantom to come along.

“Maybe I should get out of line. I don’t think I want to do this.” Phantom decided. Valerie was having none of it.

“Chicken. Look, even Danielle is excited. You’re a ghost! There is nothing you should be afraid of!” Valerie whispered the last part so that only the trio could hear.

“I don’t like roller coasters.” Danny reiterated. He tried to leave the line but the huntress grabbed his arm, “Please Val…”

“It’s our turn!” the birthday girl shrieked. The line pushed them towards the ride. Danny was practically shaking yet couldn’t phase out of Valerie’s grasp without getting some unwanted attention. He tried to convince the girls to sit in the middle, but they dragged him to the front.

“The only way to get the full experience is to sit in the front.” The older girl’s smirk was a bit too malicious. Dani didn’t care. She was finally going on the ride!

The ride was almost everything she hoped for, if only it were a little faster. Valerie was totally right; it was just like flying! She threw her hands up in the air and screamed. She was pretty sure her cuz was screaming profanities beside her. Good thing the screaming was loud enough that the kids behind didn’t hear him.

The ride was over way too quickly. With wobbly legs, she got out of her seat. Danny had to be helped out. She watched Valerie guide Danny to a nearby trash can. Maybe it was a bad idea to pressure him on the ride after all.

She looked away and tried to ignore the sounds of the boy trying to calm his stomach. She noticed a group of people around a kiosk. She wandered over there to see what they were selling.

“Do you want to buy a picture kid?” The guy in the kiosk asked.

“We’ll take three!” Valerie answered behind her.

A while later, Danny had been able to laugh about the event. When his friends found out, they refused to let him live it down. The picture hung proudly in his room, the last time she was there. Valerie was rather fond of the one piece of evidence that Phantom had a weakness.

She tried to figure out why Danny hated that ride. He didn’t seem to have any fear of the other rides. The only answer she got from Danny was “Clowns and Jell-O”. When she asked Sam and Tucker, they told her that it was a really complicated story.

The box still had other treasures she had not yet unearthed. She pulled out a bunch of keys she had put in there. What they were for, she had forgotten. Maybe her diary could remind her? An old bar of chocolate from Dubai was surprisingly intact. Seeing the chocolate made her long to go travelling again. She wondered if chocolate ever went bad…

At the very bottom of the box was a gift for her most birthday a year ago. Its blue button eyes looked up at her. Danielle pulled out the teddy bear she had gotten from Danny and Val.

“Shopping Spree!” Valerie cheered, “With a chauffeur to carry our bags for us! Are you excited or what?”

“Haha. You know I’m just as much a part of this as you.” Danny retorted. For the first time, he and Valerie were in civilian clothes together.

A few months ago, they told each other the truth. Danielle needed to mediate between the two for a while before they calmed down. They were at the point of calming down. It was awesome to finally not have to be careful what she said to her cuz.

“You and I both know that if you had it your way, we would spend all day at the arcade.” The older girl rolled her eyes.

“I think you have me confused with Tucker again.” The teen sighed, “Where do you want to go first, Dani?”

The pressure was all on her. She needed to find a place that both Danny and Valerie would be able to tolerate. She was curious to try the hair and nail salon. Danny wouldn’t enjoy the pampering. The comics shop looked awesome as well. Valerie didn’t seem to be interested in comics. She had no interest in going to the gloomy occult store. Finally, she spotted a store that she hoped everyone could agree on.

“Let’s go there!” She pointed at the brightly coloured store.

She gained two different reactions. Danny was unphased in the slightest, almost excited. Valerie gawked at her, then shook her head. The huntress headed towards Build-a-Bear with the two ghosts following behind her.

It was no surprise that the store was filled with little kids and their parents. The trio earned suspicious glares from some of the parents. Danny sweetly waved at them. He had been treated worse by those very same people before. It must have been downright friendly by now.

She followed her friends to the area filled with unstuffed animals. Her eyes widened. There were so many to choose from! Did she want a cat or a dog, a dragon or a pony? She spotted a plain white bear. Perfect.

Danny had chosen a sky-blue bear. Valerie got one of the black dragons. Once they were finished choosing, they headed over to the stuffing station.

The three friends joined a crowd of kids and their parents. Each of them was given a red heart and instructions not to lose it. Danny was also snuck a scrap of paper with a number on it.

“Okay, we need to wake up the heart. First jump on one foot.” The lady in charge of the area began.

Each step, Danny and Dani followed almost religiously. Valerie was more halfhearted. The instructions became more and more bizarre as they continued. Why did they need to rub their stomachs and stand on one foot? Some of the kids joined Valerie in barely trying. Seeing that she was losing her audience, the staff member decided to end the waking ritual.

“All bears require a wish for them to be brought to life. What do you want most?” the woman’s whisper was barely audible. She was trying way too hard to make it suspenseful.

“I with for ma tof ta grow bac” A little boy said sadly. The children around him snickered.

“I wanna be a pilot!” A girl yelled beside Dani.

“I wish that I could be as cool as Danny Phantom!”

I wanna be a ghostbuster too!”

“I want a pony, but mommy always says no!”

“I have to pee”

“I hope that my friend will go on a date with me!” Danny said just as cheerfully. The glares from before paled to the ones Danny was getting now. Even the lady with the instructions looked mad. Valerie subtly kicked him.

“EWWW!” one of the kids whined.

“You’ll like it when you’re my age.” Danny retorted, “Great. I sound like my dad!”

“I wish for more happy birthdays,” Dani said, hoping to ease the building tension. A few parents nodded, happy to get the attention off of Danny.

Once everyone had finished, they stood quietly in line while the poor worker focused on stuffing each individual bear.

“Hug it. Now is it perfectly stuffed for you?” She asked Dani.

Dani smiled, “Yep.”

“Give me the heart I gave you so, I can finish sewing your friend together.”

Dani watched her finish at lightning speeds. She must have been working there for months, if not years. She looked older than Danny and Valerie, and they were almost eighteen. It made it all the weirder that she gave Danny her number.

“Head over to the clothing section over there to get your bear some clothes. Then head over to the naming station.” The woman instructed. “Hey, cutie!”

Dani started to head over. She turned around to see a clearly uncomfortable Danny trying to avoid conversation. Served him right for bugging the kids! Valerie seemed to agree. She looked like the cat who caught the canary.

There were so many clothes for the bears, it was actually kind of weird. The price tags were just as confusing.  Some of these things cost just as much as the darn bear! She ended stuck between a pink dress and a blue dress. Danny and Valerie joined her.

“The pink one is more in style,” Valerie told her.

“But the pink one is more expensive. I’m afraid I’ll lose it while travelling.” Dani explained

“Then get this! It’s always in style!” Danny sang.

The girls looked to see Danny holding up a white t-shirt with a strawberry in the center. Above it was the phrase “Berry Best” in cursive. Dani giggled at the pun while Valerie looked unimpressed.  Unfortunately, his outburst had attracted a lot of kids.

“I want one!”

“Mr. Date, can you get me one?”

“Mommy! The man won’t let me have that!”

Neither of the trio ended up buying any clothing for the stuffed animals.

The naming station was the most uneventful part of the trip. Danielle secretly named her bear “Snowball”. Neither Danny nor Valerie would tell the names if their new “furry friends”. After paying for the bears, the three exited with their dignity barely staying intact.

“So, where do you want to go next?” Valerie asked.

Dani thought for a moment. They HAD done something everyone would like or at least be the same amount of embarrassed… “Why don’t we go to the salon?”

The only boy in the group frowned in resignation. “I guess you guys can go ahead. I’ll meet you in an hour?”

“I don’t think so, ghost boy. You’re coming with us!” Valerie laughed.

Danny paled.

Danielle started to put the things she pulled out, back where they had been kept. The only exceptions were the t-shirt, picture and the teddy bear. Those she decided would have a permanent spot in her room. She briefly wondered if Danny and Valerie had expected her to show up. They were in college now and knew she had been adopted.

A knock drew her out of her thoughts. She opened the door and saw no one was there except her guards. They gave her quizzical looks. She gave a small awkward wave and shut the door. That was really embarrassing…

She turned to see the two heroes of Amity Park waving at her from the window. She brightened.

[tcmmysheiby]

don’t touch her: tommy shelby. [smut]

authors note: reupload of a smut i wrote ages ago. very long at 5000+ but one of my favourite pieces so enjoy. let me know what you think as well. 

Anxiously tapping the top of your fingers along the wooden table in the kitchen, you waited uncomplainingly for Tommy to come back home. They usually let everyone out of the prison cells - the ones who had been thrown in overnight to help them calm down - at midday but it was gone seven o'clock and you feared that something had occurred. Your husband was someone who could guard himself, but it didn't stop you worrying. Tommy was doing it on purpose, he wanted to know what you were suffering after the trouble that you had caused the previous night. However, it wouldn't be long before he was back home. Tommy had plans for the night.

You cursed yourself as you thought about the night before. It had started out as a pathetic game that you had developed in your head once you had stepped inside of one of the local pubs in Birmingham. Tommy had been a nuisance all day; regularly snubbing you, dismissing your business ideas and not even bothering to eat the dinner that you had made for him. Business was taking its toll, but it was no excuse to you and you wanted to teach Tommy a lesson, show him that you required his attention at least some of the time but you hadn't expected it to get so out of hand.

"Well, if it isn't Luke Howard. How are you?"

Tommy was sat at the other end of the room, his eyes occasionally turning to look at you and one of Tommy's old business friends from a long time ago and he could feel the temper building up already. Luke was nothing more than somebody that you used to know, an old acquaintance that you had not seen in a while, but you used his invitation to the pub as an excuse to get under Tommy's nails and show him that you meant business. If anything was to kick off - big or small - you would not care for Luke being hurt and that was the truth.

"Mrs. Shelby." Luke extended his arm and you charmingly shook his hand, sneakily looking over his shoulder to look at Tommy who was finding it hard to concentrate on the contract in front of him. He had already made his way through two glasses of whiskey. "I am doing very well, thank you. How are you?"

Melodramatically, you faked a lengthy sigh and flopped your head against the bar surface. This way, you could easily see Tommy, but Luke was also in your view. "I'm doing alright, I suppose."

Luke smiled compassionately before looking back at Tommy. It was risky for him to be talking to you, especially as he was an old business worker of Tommy's, but Luke was also a nice man to a certain extent, despite his malicious ways - Tommy was somewhat a saint compared to Luke. However, Luke had always had a soft spot for you and could not bear to see you upset. Despite his detestation for Tommy after the catastrophic breakdown of a business meeting which ended in Luke losing out on a lot of money, Luke didn't not want to see you troubled and he also saw it as a chance to get one over of Tommy. Fortunately, you were enthusiastic to play along.

"Is the marriage failing?" Luke awkwardly nodded back at Tommy before raising both eyebrows. "Because I know for a fact that if I was married to you, I would not be sat in the corner of this place with a bunch of men deliberating business that could easily be done another time."

With a blush, you responded to Luke's statement. "That is very kind of you."

"It's the truth, love. Tommy Shelby is a foolish man for letting you sit alone," Luke replied. "You never answered my question."

"What question?"

"Is your marriage with Tommy failing?"

"I wouldn't say failing. We just don't have a lot of time to spend together and when we are together, well, we might as well not be. The business comes before me, always has done and always will," you answered.

"I don't think that's true - "

"Oh, it is," you interrupted before leaning back up properly. You grabbed the drink that Tommy had ordered you before he had gone to ignore you for the rest of the evening. "I guess I've gotten used to it though. Tommy does what he does because he wants to deliver a good life for me and I respect that."

"But?"

"I just want some attention every now and again. I love him greatly, there is no denying that and I know that he would do everything in his power to keep me safe and look after me. We purchased a big home but what for? It feels so isolated a lot of the time and I hate it very much. We didn't have much money before the business grew but we were content, and I think that's what's most important."

Luke smirked before looking down at the bar table. His hand started to trail across the wet and sticky bar until it touched your own hand. It was completely wrong, but you didn't bother to pull away and instead, allowed him to rub the top of your hand with his fingertip.

"Tommy Shelby needs to get his priorities right."

An obnoxious cough came from behind Luke and you slowly closed your eyes, not daring to make eye contact with Tommy. Luke didn't have the nerve to turn around and face Tommy, didn't even have the bottle to make response to Tommy's understandable aggravation. Silence surrounded the three of you as you finally looked at Tommy with pleading eyes, wordlessly begging him to not kick up the fuss. With one eyebrow raised, Tommy nodded towards Luke's hand that was still placed on top of yours and you quickly ripped your touch away from Luke's.

"Do I really need to get my priorities right, love?" Tommy asked you. His tone was filled with jealously as he waited for you response, staring deeply at you.

For some odd reason, a burst of self-confidence hit Luke straight in the face as he stood up and turned to look at Tommy. "Yes, you do."

Tommy tilted his head to the side before laughing. "I wasn't talking to you so how about you fuck off? This is between me and [y/n], not you and me."

It would have been sensible for Luke to have done a runner there and then, protect his face and keep his eye sight in tact but he didn't move. Standing up straighter, Luke looked at Tommy in the eyes before chuckling.

"Treat her with a bit more respect mate or someone else will snatch her from your hands. Got a gorgeous lady there and you are letting her slip away."

"That's not tru - " you tried to say, only to be interrupted by Tommy.

"You really need to shut your mouth," Tommy spat, digging his digit into Luke's chest. Even though Luke was more malicious than Tommy - he didn't have a leg to stand on. His killing days were long gone after the collapse of his business and was simply a man who made an appearance sometimes; an okay fella but not much to him. "Let's go home, [y/n]."

"She's staying here with me," Luke announced, adding fuel to the already growing rage. Tommy had to cut the meeting short because he was finding it impossible to concentrate and Luke was getting on his last nerve. It would not be long before Tommy shattered and did something that he regretted. "Never know, I might even take her home with me."

"The only man that [y/n] will be going home with is me."

"I can change that, Mr. Shelby." Luke leaned forward until his mouth was next to Tommy's ear. "One ride on my cock and your wife will be mine."

Tommy chuckled as he looked down at the ground and before you could process what was happening, Tommy's fist was smashing against Luke's cocky expression, sending the man flying backwards into the bar. You stood up and gasped, too shocked to stop your husband from committing a violent act in such a public place.

Watching as Tommy dragged Luke out of the pub naturally, you yelled his name and attempted to chase after him but was stopped by a random stranger who immediately brought you back into the pub to stop you from viewing such violence and misery.

You could picture it in your head; Luke cowering against the wall as Tommy ruthlessly kicked him, Tommy leaning for his hat and Luke losing his eye sight. Jealously was something that never usually effected Tommy, he loved and trusted you enough to know that you would never go against him or be with another man so to see such possessiveness and green-eyes was a shock to your system.

The pub was hushed apart from your pathetic attempts to loosen yourself from the grip of the random stranger, the people of the pub eavesdropping in on the shrieks and horror that were coming from Luke. You knew Tommy, you had met the temper before when someone had overstepped the mark with him at the horse racing tracks, it wasn't pleasant, and you felt for Luke.

"Get your bastard hands away from me," you heard Tommy shout. Finally managing to get away from the strong man that was holding you back, you headed towards the pub doors and was met with a sight that you hadn't seen since before the War. Tommy was lacking control as the police men gripped him, eventually managing to calm him down.

Tommy was unexpectedly silent as the police men patted him down, getting rid of any dangerous weapons that could bring them harm. The notorious cap was ripped from Tommy's head; his hair ruffled and thick, no longer styled. Tommy looked over at you as he tried to control his breathing but there was darkness behind his eyes and you was frightened that it was aimed at you.

"Go home [y/n]," he muttered, his jaws tense and his eyes wide. "I'll be back tomorrow."

The night was spent unaccompanied with you worried about your husband's state. You knew that he would be okay; Tommy was a strong man and no police officer could hold him down. It would only be a matter of time before they released him for his crime. Tommy could have murdered someone, and he would still get out of a prison sentence. You just hoped that Tommy had fell into the company of some police officers who were on the pay roll and not any of the ruthless ones.

The sound of the door opening froze you in your place, unable to move as you listened to the heavy footsteps making their way through the house. All the maids had retired for the night, going up to their bedrooms on the other side of the house where they would be unable to hear the quarrel that was guaranteed to take place.

"Hello."

Tommy's voice was cool as he sat down on the sofa across from you, his coat still on and eyes worn-out but there was something behind them that both thrilled you and concerned you. Reaching his hand into his coat pocket, Tommy pulled out a cigarette and lit it before blowing the smoke in the direction of the ceiling. You watched his every movement, waiting patiently for him to blow up and scream as you. It never came.

"Are you okay?" you asked finally after building up the courage to talk to him. It was clear that Tommy was not in the mood for chit-chat, but you needed to know that he was fine.

A lengthy and heavy sigh came from Tommy and he leaned his head back up to look at you. "Hmm, I am now that I am back home." You nodded once, words refusing to be heard. "Come here." Tommy tilted his head to the side and watched as you stood up before raising one finger in the air and moving it from side to side, gesturing for you to stop. "No. Get on your knees and come here."

Nodding, you followed Tommy's orders and sank to your knees before crawling over to his body. The whole time, Tommy was watching you with harsh eyes, sometimes trailing them over to your ass where he smirked arrogantly.

You positioned yourself in between Tommy's thighs, looking up at him with full submission and wanting. There was silence as Tommy looked down at you, him trying his hardest not to grab your body and lay you across his lap as a punishment.

"Did you think it was funny?" Tommy asked, leaning down to grab your chin and make you look at him. His head was tilted to the side mockingly as he waited for your answer, but your words were unable to form and all you could do was blink at Tommy a few times, hoping and praying that he would have mercy on you. "I said, do you think it was funny?" Tommy repeated, his jaw tense and breath hot on your face as he leaned down. The cigarette that he was smoking had been stubbed into the ashtray, but the smoke was still whirling around in between your faces. "Don't make me say it again."

"No," you blurted out, your eyes turning to the side.

"Look at me."

You couldn't, the humiliation and scandal of the previous night was hitting you like a ton of bricks. Tommy had spent a night in a prison cell because of your self-centred ways, Luke was in an atrocious way and you feared for the relationship that you had built with Tommy.

"I said, look at me." Slowly, you moved your pardoning eyes back to Tommy and waited for his next comment. "Why did you do it?"

"I wanted your attention," you admitted, voice cracking a little as Tommy moved his hand to your throat.

"Do you want it now?"

"Yes," you whined, doing your best to lean forward so you could capture Tommy's lips, but he pulled you back by your throat and chuckled. "Please."

Tommy took in a deep breath before releasing your throat and pushing you down towards his crotch. You didn't even need to be told, within seconds you were unfastening his slacks and freeing him from his boxers. Gulping, you looked up at Tommy through your eyelashes as you wrapped you hand around his thick length, not moving it up and down until Tommy gave you permission.

"Remove your hands and put your mouth around my cock," he ordered. Nodding, you obeyed his instructions and waited for the next part of the act. "Good girl."

Tommy laced his fingers in your hair before pushing your mouth down his cock. Allowing yourself to relax, you moved both of your hands to Tommy's thighs and rested them there, preparing yourself for what was to come. There was nothing but the sound of Tommy' breathing and low grumbles as his tip hit the back of your throat and without warning, Tommy bucked his hips up, causing you to gag around his hard cock.

The combination of his hips bucking and his hand pushing your head down had you gushing. The sexual desire inside of you growing and growing until you felt as if you were ready to burst. It had been so long since he had properly touched you. A quick fuck before work and then he was gone for the day, sometimes not leaving you fulfilled enough. It was the stress of the business, which you understood, but sometimes all you needed was to be a little manhandled.

It had been done so many times before - Tommy using your mouth to get himself off - and it was your beloved thing. Tommy would move your head up and down his cock, not stopping until he was fulfilled, and you would keep your eyes on him. It was during these intimate moments that you got a chance to see how much of a work of art your husband truly was with his mouth open a tad, his eyes fluttering shut and his hair a mess.

You were in your element as you helped Tommy get to the edge. Your nose brushed against his pubic hair for only a few seconds before he was bringing you back to the top and then he would repeat the action again, chuckling every time you gagged. Your fingernails were digging into Tommy's thighs as you hallowed your cheeks, adding more pressure which had Tommy whimpering - your favourite sound. Multiple curse words slipped through Tommy's lips as he pushed your head down impossibly further, a smug grin on his face every time he looked down at you and spotted the water running from your eyes. If you could, you would have returned the grin.

"Are you sorry?" Tommy asked followed by a loud moan. You couldn't respond when your lips were around his wet cock, but you tried your hardest and the response that Tommy got was not good enough. "What was that?"

Tommy pulled you off his cock completely, but his hand remained tight in your hair as he dragged you up a little bit. Your lips were desirable and red, saliva dribbling down your chin and your eyes were watering but to Tommy, you looked spectacular.

"I am sorry," you cried out, the need to kiss Tommy growing with every second.

Tommy mockingly pouted as he ran his free hand across your face and then his thumb across your lip, smirking at how wet they were. "I know, darling." A kiss so delicate it felt as if it wasn't there was pressed against your mouth and then Tommy continued. "Now, go upstairs and I will meet you there soon."

"Naked?"

"I think you already know the answer to that one, darling."

+++

A teasing game. A punishing, teasing game that had you wriggling on the sheets as you waited for Tommy to enter the bedroom. It had been at least fifteen minutes since you had first gone upstairs and got yourself undressed for him and with every passing second, you could feel yourself getting needier and needier. It was a test, you knew this, and you were ready to fail the test.

Laying back against the cold, silk sheets, you glided your hand across your lower stomach. You continued to listen out for Tommy's footsteps because if he caught you in this position, without his permission or him being there, you knew that it would lead to a bigger punishment, but your needs were enormous, and you needed some sort of release - with or without Tommy.

You were already soaked and dripping onto the bed sheets as you slipped one finger inside of yourself, not moving your digit for a brief second as you listened out for Tommy. Silence. Another digit was soon entered as you continued to pump in and out. The thrill of going against Tommy's orders was bringing you new pleasure, along with the way that your fingers hit that one spot inside of you that had you gushing all over the sheets. Still, no matter how hard you tried, nothing would ever compare to Tommy's fingers which had been created to grant you pleasure.

"Someone is having fun without me."

Your body ran cold under his words, your fingers still deep inside of you, and your cheeks inflamed as you turned your head to the side to look at Tommy. His suit jacket had been discarded and in one hand he had a glass of whiskey, the other a cigarette. He was trying to come across as annoyed, but you could see the lust filled eyes and his cock tightening against his slacks again. Your growing desire only increased as you look him up down. He had folded the sleeves of his shirt up, showing his muscles and the veins that ran along his arm.

Walking over, Tommy downed his whiskey before putting the glass on the drawers besides the bed. It was uneasily silent as you observed his every move, trying to figure out what plans he had for you. Punishment was going to happen; you knew that much.

"Continue," Tommy said as he sat down beside you, pushing your body back down when you tried to sit up. You looked at him expressionlessly, confused by his demand but nodded your head anyway. "If you want to come then you will do it with your own fingers. Is that understood?"

You nodded your head again, the only thing your body could do. Tommy placed his hand on his cock, rubbing it through his slacks as he looked at you with half lidded eyes. It was a seductive gaze that you had pushing in and out harder - eyes moving to Tommy's face which was fixed with a grin and then back down to his hand that was adding more pressure to his cock. It had been a while since the two of you had been intimate like this and the thought of it lasting all night had you moaning louder and louder. This punishment was going to drag out for hours and you would be a sticky, sweaty mess by the end of it but you revelled in it and Tommy knew that.

"I wish you could see yourself," Tommy started, gripping his cock harder. "You look like an angel."

Your orgasm rocketed through you like wild fire as you arched your back off the bed. Tommy looked on in awe and rubbed your thigh as it turned from side to side, your legs stiffening and your toes curling. During all of this, Tommy had reached into the drawer besides your bed and had pulled out an old tie. Before you knew it, Tommy was rolling on top of you and stretching your arms, tying them to the headboard tightly to prevent you from becoming undone.

"Tommy," you groaned, pulling on the ties causing the headboard to creak. Tommy stood back up and looked at up, his head tilting to the side as whistled conceitedly. "Please."

"I kind of hate how irresistible you are," he said, voice low and thick. His Birmingham accent always became stronger when he was turned on. "Because right now, I should be angry with you but oh, baby, you are just too perfect."

A blush came to your cheeks at Tommy's comment. The rough, dominant Tommy was still there but he was showing his love for you and that meant the world to you. Even after your act last night, he still worshipped you and loved you. Tommy even felt slightly bad - it had been his fault in some way. The fact that he had been abandoning you had led to your coquettish behaviour with another man and Tommy should have noticed this.

"Tommy - "

"Guess what?" Tommy interrupted, resting his hands on his thighs as he bent down to look at you. "I'm going to fuck you so hard to the point that you won't even think about another man, let alone flirt with them. If you ever do, which I hope you don't, all you will think about is my cock buried inside of you. Okay?"

You nodded your head enthusiastically, keen to get the show started. Your neediness was growing and growing as you watched Tommy walk around the edge of the bed, looking like a million dollars, until he reached the clothes that you had thrown on the floor area.

"Is that all this just from me being down your throat?" Tommy asked, referring to your soaked knickers that he had picked up from the floor. "You are going to kill me one of these days," he mumbled.

"I want your mouth, Tommy, please," you begged, lifting your hips in the air. Tommy looked down at your slit; wet for him.

"Do you deserve it?"

"No," you admitted, shaking your head in the process. "But you can't deny me."

Tommy hated how true that statement was. Clicking his tongue, Tommy finally gave into temptation and crawled up your clothed body, not stopping until his mouth was on yours. The kids were different as you opened for him, allowing his tongue to slide in so fluently. You whimpered into the kiss as you rolled yourself against Tommy's cock, sighing as he pushed your hips back down with his hand. The kiss remained uninterrupted through all of this and it just encouraged Tommy on.

"Please," you breathed against his mouth, pressing another kiss to his swollen lips.

Tommy moved down your body until he was kneeled in between your thighs, his large hands running across your thighs before pushing them apart, completely exposing yourself to him. There was an erotic smirk on his lips as he bent down to lick one stripe along your slit, snickering to himself when you tried to push your hips forward for more of his tongue.

"Don't make me tie these legs up as well, love," he mumbled as he pressed kisses along the inside of your thigh.

Parting the lips with two fingers, Tommy swirled his tongue on your clit, stopping to suck for a few seconds, before going back to the normal circles. Two of his hands were pressed against the inside of your thighs as he continued to push your legs further apart, giving him more access. His hair was teasing you and you were starting to grow frustrated, both with Tommy's slow movements and the fact that you wanted to grip his hair and push his face into your core.

The noise's being created were sensual as Tommy sped up his movements. Delving his tongue in, Tommy made a noise of appreciation as he tasted every inch of your soaking core, all for him. Pulling away, Tommy inserted two fingers inside of you and began to thrust relentlessly as he watched you with dark eyes. The moment that they hit your g-spot, you were arching your back of the bed and twisting the tie in a circle as you tried to get yourself off.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, please," you moaned, somehow managing to lift one thigh over Tommy's shoulders.

Your orgasm was already close as Tommy continued to swirl his tongue all over your juices, gathering them on his tongue and moaning in gratitude. "Are you close?" he asked, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear your breathless voice.

"Yes." Tommy continued his assault in the most beautiful of ways, flicking and sucking your clit to the point that your legs were tense as you orgasm washed through you; sending your legs into a frenzy and your heart beat through the roof. It took longer for you to calm down this time as Tommy continued to flick your clit through your orgasm and even afterwards. "Tommy, stop - "

Travelling back up your body with his lips, Tommy pressed multiples kisses along your stomach and breasts, taking his time to pleasure both nipples before finally capturing your lips. It was short and sweet, enough to leave you longing for more. An affectionate kiss was pressed against your shoulder and then your neck, distracting you from what Tommy was doing below.

"Jesus," you cried out, your eyes closing and mouth falling open as Tommy pressed his fingers against your clit. His mouth was doing wonders on your neck and you could feel the grin as he rubbed your clit, not once being calm.

Tommy pulled away from your neck and smiled proudly at the marks that he would leave. They would be a reminder of his love for you and every time you looked at yourself in the mirror for the next week, you would recall the way that Tommy fucked you.

"I'm going to come again," you breathed out, throat becoming dry.

Your third orgasm of the night had you throwing your head backwards as you clamped your thighs around Tommy's fingers, ignoring the laughter that slipped from your husband's mouth. There was no better feeling in the world as the pleasure ran through you.

"That's it, my darling. That's it," he cooed, helping you through your orgasm.

"Do you think you can go again?" Tommy asked as he removed his shirt and slacks, your hands twitching forwards as you desperately needed to touch him. "Oh, I don't think so," Tommy said, taking note of the weakening knots. Leaning over your body, Tommy retied the notes and looked down at you, a twinkle in his eyes. "Do you think you can go again?" he repeated.

"Tommy, where are you?"

Your eyes widened as Arthur's voice made its way known throughout the house, screaming for Tommy. There was no reason for him to be there, meaning that something had either gone wrong at the betting shop or he was popping in for a general chit-chat. Either way, Tommy was not leaving that bedroom until he had finished with you.

"The door is locked," Tommy announced as he got himself in position, pulling his cock out from his boxers. "But you need to keep fucking quiet. Do you understand?"

Tommy didn't even give you a chance to respond before he was slamming into you. A loud, drawn-out moan jolted from your mouth at the feeling of his cock stretching you. Tommy raised one eyebrow before moving one of his hands to cover your mouth, his hand pretty much covering the whole bottom half of your face. With every thrust, he pressed down harder and dug his fingers into your cheek, squeezing them together and silencing your moans.

"You have my attention now, don't you?" Tommy moaned, pulling his cock all the way out before slamming back in. Bruises were going to be formed but you did not care in the slightest; too invested in chasing your orgasm. "Hey, this is what you wanted, isn't it?"

You gripped the headboard and nodded your head. Tommy's moans were echoing throughout the room, yet he was silencing yours - not that you were complaining, the sound of his moans was like heaven on earth. Considering you were so stimulated from your previous three orgasms, you were surprised when you managed to get the ties undone. It was easier than you had expected but knowing Tommy, he probably did it on purpose.

"I want you to come inside of me," you told him as you ripped his hand away your mouth.

Tommy, taken aback, nodded his head before engulfing your waist and pulling you up until you were sat on his cock. Tommy was buried deep inside of you as he brutally lifted you up and down, repeatedly slamming his cock inside of you as one hand gripped your hair.

"I fucking love you," Tommy whispered into your ear. "Even though you are a little shit."

"I'm going to come - "

"No, you are going to wait," Tommy told you, ignoring the way that you groaned after he had finished his sentence – you would pay for that later. "You are going to hold on and wait for."

"I can't - "

You were cut off by Tommy slipping his fingers inside of your mouth, the taste of your previous orgasm coating his fingers. "You can."

Your eyes squeezed shut as Tommy continued to fill you up, his own moans edging you towards your orgasm. The thought of coming undone without Tommy's permission was tempting but you decided against as it would only lead to a bigger punishment.

"Tommy, I can't hold it – "

With a few more thrusts, you were clinging onto Tommy as you pushed yourself against his chest. Your sensitive clit was pulsing every time it brushed against Tommy's pubic hair. Your hands were tight in his hair as you brought Tommy to his own orgasm, him crying out in pleasure as he released himself inside of you. The warmth had aftershocks rush through your body as you clung onto Tommy, hoping and praying that he wouldn't go again.

"Satisfied?" he asked, rubbing his hand up and down your back. Your forehead was on Tommy's shoulder as you attempted to catch your breath. "Don't ever do shit like that again, do you understand? It wasn't funny."

"I know, I'm sorry. Just wanted your attention."

"You've got it now, haven't you?" Tommy hummed as he moved some hair away from your face. "And you've got it for the rest of the night. So, I'm going to go downstairs and deal with Arthur and you will wait here for me."

"And when you come back upstairs?"

Tommy gripped your chin and forced you to look at him. "We haven't finished yet, let's say that much."

[writersmacchiato]

Red | Dick Winters

Prompt: “No, I don’t want to say goodbye. Not now.”

Requested by: @croatianbagudna (she wanted it angsty but I couldn’t do it, so you’re welcome)

Warnings: none that I can think of, some angst

———

Red.

That’s the first thing you see when your eyes sweep over the company.

A vibrant, burnt red that stands out against the white t-shirt of his PT uniform. It’s shining under the Georgia heat, carefully and meticulously styled with pomade.

He isn’t the only one with hair like that, a few other men in the company have the same unusual shade, but he catches you with those eyes of his.

A shocking dose of blue that has you freezing. It’s something you find yourself thinking about later on; how the light catching off them looked like a lake, rippling and catching twinkles of sun. Face inexpressive, but those eyes said it all.

You don’t formally meet him that day, or the next, or even the day after that. And, yet somehow that simple look you exchanged in a brief passing has your dreams hazy with purple.

His hand is warm, calloused, firm in yours. “Richard Winters, ma’am. Pleasure to meet you.”

You return the sentiment, wanting to linger but a training ground is no place for such matters. Not when you’re being called away for another exercise; another class to teach; another technique to learn; another test to study for. It’s strenuous, but you find yourself filling with it until there is little else to think or remember about. Including a certain Richard Winters.

The time passes; months fly by until the tests slowly creep away and more responsibility is placed on your shoulders. Trees go from green to yellow to red to orange to brown, the wind losing its oppressive warmth.

Your fingers twitch, dropping the hold on the pen you’d held captive for a good hour. Boxes lie neatly in front of you; their description and inventory written precisely on your clipboard. It was frustrating, how little of importance it seemed, but then you remembered the face of a combat nurse — passing through on her back from the active field — and all irritation floats away.

“Excuse me, ma’am.”

Your eyes find him. Richard Winters, looking bashful and uncertain as he wanders into the room.

“Good evening, Lieutenant Winters.” You find a smile on your face, your interactions with the man far and few between. “Congratulations on the promotion.”

His cheeks seem to be pinker than they were a moment before, eyes cast down. “Thank you, Captain L/N.”

It’s formal, every exchange tinged with hesitation.

“What can I do for you?”

“I was told at 1300 hours to find you and help you with...”

You laugh softly. “Office things. Funny how being promoted just seems like a whole bunch of paperwork.”

His lips twist into a small smile that lights up his face. You decide that you like it.

“I suppose that’s true. Where do you want me?”

“I’m done with this report, but I have to conduct an inventory of the remaining crates over there in the corner.”

That becomes apart of your new routine. Spending time with Dick —

“Call me Dick.” He says quietly as he’s leaving one day. “We’re friends.”

“Okay Dick, call me Y/N.”

“Goodnight Y/N.”

— quickly starts to be the focus of your thoughts; unknowingly counting down the hours until you’d see him again.

Lewis Nixon finds the budding friendship amusing; teasing Dick about it until the latter’s ears are red.

Then you’re scheduled to ship out to England.

It’s quiet throughout the camp as everyone packs for New York; the dawning realization that this was real, the last two years of training would be put to use, the last days on American soil.

You’re in the medical room, eyes looking over the grooves on the floor where the crates previously were. His knock is quiet on the doorframe, throat clearing as he enters.

“Thought I’d find you here.” He says.

You smile halfheartedly, “feels odd to be leaving.”

“Yeah, it does.”

His eyes watch you, swimming with uncertainty as words he wants to say linger on the tip of his tongue. The sun catches the back of his head, turning it into a halo of fire. Your fingers creep up to the nape of his neck, running over the hair found there. He swallows, turning to face you. His mouth opens but he never gets a chance to say what he wants, because you’re closing the distance between you. Lips brushing over his, giving him a chance to pull away and stop whatever this was.

His hand cups your cheek, pulling you in closer, as he places a soft kiss to your lips.

You see him as often as you can in England. Looking for a splash of red among the grey before it disappears.

“Captain L/N.”

You look from your paperwork, smiling instantly. “Lieutenant Winters.”

“Permission to enter?”

You glance at the empty room, raising a brow. He only smirks, closing the door behind him.

“To what pleasure do I owe this?”

He hands you a paper. “It’s a report of the supply crates that were dropped off today. I wanted to make sure you got them immediately.”

“That is very kind of you, Lieutenant Winters. Thank you.” You watch him stand at attention before your desk; see the curve of his throat as he swallows, the clench of his hand, his eyes watching you...

It was a game, between you both, that you enjoyed immensely.

“If there is nothing else, ma’am.”

“There is.”

He pauses, eyes lit up as he watches your next move.

“I am in need of your assistance.”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Tonight, 2100 hours. My quarters.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

-

“Genie, go.” You tap his shoulder, meeting his defiant gaze. “I got this.”

His mouth moves to protest, but a mortar sounds off nearby. The ground shakes, dirt flying up.

“Medic!” With that cry, Roe is on his feet and running with a fleeting glance back at you.

The man beneath you is calmed now, soft whimpers falling from his lips.

“You’re alright, soldier.” The words are empty as every shake of the ground jostles his injured leg, but he nods his head.

“Medic!”

It comes from the opposite direction of where Roe went, you look at the soldier, thoughts racing faster than your heart.

“I’m okay.” He grunts.

You manage to drag him to a foxhole, darting off into the trees. The cry grows louder and louder, a couple more yards revealing a man with a tree branch lodged through his shoulder. Miraculously, it missed his heart but the bleeding is profuse.

Dropping to your knees, you fumble in your bag.

“Hey, solider.” You look at his eyes, seeing the terror that rocked his being as he looked at the wound. “No, don’t look.”

His eyes drift to you, breathing labored. “It hurts.”

“I know, honey. We’ll get you patched up.”

You hear the whistle of a mortar, meeting the gaze of the wounded solider. The blue of his eyes are the last thing you see before the earth explodes around you.

-

His eyes snap open, staring up at the ceiling. Sweat condensed on his forehead, it wipes with warm and slick. The murmur of his heart is beating fast, pushing against chest. Hands automatically reach out for you, fingers trailing over nothing but cold sheets.

The steps of his feet lead him to a cracked door, light spilling out into the hallway. He can hear the gentle humming and the quiet creaking of the floorboards.

You meet his gaze, your little girl in your arms, a smile pursed at your lips. Despite how tired you look, exhaustion creeping over every feature of your face, Dick feels his heart melt at the sight.

His hand settles on your shoulder, fingers drifting over the scars, looking down at the alertness of Violet. Her tiny hand curls around his outstretched finger, babbles falling from her mouth as blue eyes recognize her father.

The dream, a memory that had almost began to be dormant, is slipping from mind as he carefully scoops Violet into his arms. She was so small, especially when compared to him. Your arms settle around his waist, head leaning against his shoulder.

“You’re dreaming about it again.” You whisper, watching Violet’s face move up and down as she curls up on Dick’s chest with a tiny yawn.

He doesn’t respond, doesn’t need to, because you understand.

It’s something he thought about a lot during the war, not knowing whether he would see you again. If your condition was stable enough to go home, if he could have done something to save you before the medic got there. He wasn’t there. Getting your letter in the mail, seeing the scrawl of his name in your handwriting, broke the impasse he had built. His fingers shook opening the envelope, tracing each word and hearing your voice as he read through it.

You were okay.

You were alive.

Even now, years after the war has ended and he’s married you, started a life with you — he thinks about it.

It was little baby Violet Winters that had stirred up the wretched memory that was perfectly engrained in his mind. Seeing your face twisting in pain, breathing labored, the blood. You were completely safe during the birthing, but it brought him back to the woods of Bastogne. Your hand clenched around his, a cry of pain ripping out.

Holding his daughter for the first time brought him back, fully wrapped in the moment as he looked at the baby you had created.

Nights were spent wide awake. He hardly slept the first month Violet was brought home and it wasn’t because of her fits. His nightmares were becoming bad, awful enough that he started to sleep in the living room until he drearily woke up to you sleeping next to him. “We do this together.” You said.

Violet was starting to fall asleep on her own, sleeping through the night more and more often. Still, his nightmares persisted.

“I keep thinking about you...and that day.” He finds himself saying, finally taking the burden off his shoulders.

That day.

It started like any other. The days blurred together in one bleak, snowy hell that was counted by the breaks between warfare.

Your face twisted in pain, trying to stop the wounded solider from moving, while ignoring the bleeding seeping through your coat.

Red.

There was too much.

The white snow was ridden with blood, metallic iron mixing with the smoke and dirt.

“No, no.” He whispered, stroking your hair from your face. “I don’t want to say goodbye. Not now.”

You had long since fallen unconscious, face slack but smeared in that red.

It’s the last time he sees you during the war. Driven off in a jeep with a stained bandage wrapped around your shoulder and chest. The image of you like that sticks to him, always coming to him at night when he shuts his eyes.

“I’m right here.” You say looking at him, face tinged with exhaustion but love.

He feels himself return your smile, Violet’s grip on his shirt loosening as she drifts off to sleep.

“Let’s get some sleep before this one decides to wake up again.”

His arm is wrapped around you, chin resting on your head. It’s not comfortable, but you don’t mutter any complaints. Running your fingers down his arm in slow motions.

“I love you.” You whisper, eyes drifting shut.

The last thing you see is the sky turning red as the sun starts to rise over the horizon.

———

BoB taglist: @kneesocksapollo @croatianbagudna @gottapenny @wexhappyxfew @medievalfangirl @liebthots @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @hbostolemysoul-motherblog @bandofmarvels @dustyjjumpwings

[theprettysetterclub]

heyyy can I request a matchup?? :)) im 5'1 with shoulder length black hair and really into vintage fashion paired with basics!!! im a panromantic demisexual, aquarius & intp, who is more of an ambivert tbh, how extroverted/introverted I am depends on my mood/company! usually am pretty happy-go-lucky, excitable and I make friends easily!! im chill most of the times and i prefer to avoid confrontation but i can and will call ppl out on their bs (if needed) - hq!! ask anon (from imagines blog)

  also i LOVE cold/dad jokes and bad pickup lines hahah i laugh easily but bonus points if the person is super awkward or deadpan about it! my interests include fashion, movies, reading, and comics - i usually spend time searching for cute vintage clothes, discussing movies/books/anime or just spending time doing activities (usually cooking/baking!) with my friends and family!! - hq!! ask anon

im really affectionate so its important for me to spend time with my loved ones to receive and in turn, give affection to them - usually in the from physical touch or quality time spent together!! im so glad that your matchups are open cos i love your haikyuu imagines and the amount of thought yall put into the matchups is just mindblowing tbh!!! hehe thank you in advance and im looking forward to the results 🥰🧡 - hq!! ask anon PS. so sorry it turned out so long idek how it happened OTL

HQ ASK ANON!! you’re a little ball of sunshine alkjfd how are you so cute,,, no choice i have adopted you now dskljfd also xNTP club represent! 

also i wrote this in an inspired flurry while procrastinating my history essay due next week so i hope it’s legible kdfjl

i had a hard time narrowing it down but!! i match you with… 

bokuto koutarou!

✧ that is him trying to impress you honestly i love this dumbass so much and every time he’s on screen you just know you’re in for a good time,,, and i think he’d absolutely adore you! also he loves how much shorter than him you are, he enjoys hugging you from behind because of it sdlkj

✧ i think you match his energy quite well, while still balancing him out! he needs someone who can keep up with him, while also bringing him back down to earth. he definitely brings out your extroverted side, but the fact you can be a bit more lowkey sometimes is a good thing for him; he needs to take a break from being at 100% all the damn time sdlkj 

✧ cutest! happiest! brightest couple! honestly, you two would be so adorable,,, just sunshine incarnate. you can’t help but feel happy in each other’s company, and it’s kind of infectious? you guys can be quite loud, but people enjoy being around you two because you bring love and light wherever you go,,, bless 

✧ but you can call him out on his bs when you need to, because oh boy, does he need it sometimes,,, you and akaashi (who adores you, btw) tag team it. you’re sort of like a ‘bokuto’s personal development team’ because you spend a lot of time trying to help him with his slumps. needless to say the results are very hit-or-miss 

✧ good thing you laugh easily because he’s just,,, so funny without even trying. and when he makes you laugh, his heart feels so full and ready to burst and he’s so proud of himself for achieving something so important and-- he’s just very wholesome like that kjlkj 

✧ listen. make the boy some lunch for practice and he’ll cry. absolutely shows off the bento box you made with him last night to all the black jackals. h e l p t h e m -- he won’t shut up about you ever and they’re s u f f e r i n g. they absolutely know far too much about you to the point that it’s kind of embarrassing. but, they beg you to come to their games because bokuto works just that little bit harder when you’re in the stands because he just wants to impress you so bad--  

✧ i think he’s also super physically affectionate, so your love languages line up! he’s honestly kind of clingy, so good luck with walking around at all when you’re alone because you’ll have all 6′3″ of him wrapped around your waist at all times,, also, he genuinely tries to spend as much of his free time with you as possible! once he finds out how much that means to you, he literally writes it down in his phone so he’ll never forget it sdlkdjf he does that with everything important you mention to him! he’s that determined to be a Good Boyfriend, bless his heart,,, 

✧ his favourite thing to do is spend time with you, tbh,,, whether it’s being stupid while watching a movie and discussing it (he’s trying, even if things fly over his head sometimes), being your hype guy whenever you’re trying out a new outfit combination, trying his best to cook with you (you know that bento box i mentioned? the plan was for you two to make it together, but he managed to fuck up the sauce by making it way to sweet. so, the duty was handed over to you while he sulked with his head buried in your shoulder)

✧ you two are,,, so cute,,, my heart can’t handle it,,, you two would just be so loving and giving and you’d have the most wonderful time together? i love this couple so much give him a gentle kiss on the forehead for me 

other matches!

✧ sugawara koushi: goblin angel boy,,, i love him,,, he’s a little smarter than bokuto, so i think you’d have a lot of fun discussing media together! he’s very perceptive and analytical, so he always has something interesting to say? otherwise, i think he’d also love your bright personality? he’s not called mr. refreshing for nothing, and i think you’d get along so well. he’s more lowkey than bokuto, so you’d have a lot more quiet time together; he’s good at managing his time so he’s always finding space in his day to cuddle with you (he’s also very affectionate!). i think he’d also make you laugh a lot; he’s not quite awkward or deadpan, but he can be a little dry? expect him to make a lot of witty little comments just to hear you laugh,,, UGH you’d just be so cute please shower him with love,,, also he loves that you’re so much shorter than him lmao idk why there’s so many question marks in this paragraph BUT–

✧ yachi hitoka: MY GIRL,,, first of all, you’re so tiny? like? that’s so cute oh my goodness? ANYWAY, i think she’d really enjoy being around someone like you? you’re easy to be friends with, as well as excitable and fun to be around. but, it’s not quite like with hinata (where being in his presence feels like staring directly into the sun, bless him). she really enjoys your happy-go-lucky personality, and it’s a balance to her anxious rambling. i think she’d also appreciate the fact that you’re able to call her out every now and then, because it might help break her out of an anxious spiral or two. she’s so easy to make blush tbh – all you gotta do is hold her hand and she’s bright red. also baking together,,, cuddling up on the couch together while you watch a movie (yes, her face is still red),,, my heart cannot physically handle the amount of sheer wholesomeness this couple exudes and i’ve got to stop rambling before i lose all sense of coherency slkj

[imagine-loki]

Gifted

TITLE: Gifted (Sequel to Giftless)

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 7/?

AUTHOR: nekoamamori ORIGINAL IMAGINE: 

Imagine that you are Stark’s niece and you secretly share a strong relationship with Loki since he entered the crew. One day you get hurt so bad during a mission that you are about to die.  Loki knows a spell that will save you and share his immortality with you but you and he will be linked forever sharing thoughts, pain, emotions…

RATING: T NOTES/WARNINGS:  Also on AO3 click here

You both terrified the nice waitresses and managers at the pancake house. You hadn’t meant to, of course, but they were already suspicious when the well-dressed skinny young couple came in and ordered the unlimited pancakes. Supers have stupidly high metabolisms, Loki wasn’t human (you weren’t entirely sure you were anymore either), and the last real meal you’d had, besides last night, was two weeks ago. Those pancakes were doomed. The staff became even more suspicious after our third reorder of pancakes. By our fifth reorder of pancakes, the chef himself came out to see who was eating all of his pancakes. He glared at you both. You figured he recognized you and had a feeling that supers weren’t going to be allowed to have unlimited pancakes anymore as soon as he could get it past corporate.

“Tom, Kelly, are you in town to film the new Avengers movie?” one of the paparazzi asked while you were inhaling pancakes. It was really quite rude of them, you were busy scaring the poor staff of the pancake house. You didn’t want to deal with the press, but they always followed you around.

You grinned at them, though, amused they’d gotten you mistaken for the actors. “Sorry, wrong celebrities,” you told them with a too-innocent smile.  Loki tried to hide his smirk and failed.  Miserably.

“Wait? What? You’re-?” she spluttered, surprised that you weren’t Tom and Kelly.

“Not Tom and Kelly,” you replied still too innocently.  innocently. She tried to get an interview from you instead, but she had ruined her chance by not knowing who she was talking to. She finally left you alone, looking defeated.

You and Loki enjoyed your breakfast; you spent most of the meal telling him stories about your super friends. You had gotten some new recruits, who had the misfortune of training with you whenever Fury could get you to act as ‘helpless victim’ during training sessions. You’d had too much fun over the years messing up their plans that you had gotten quite good at it. Now the new kids all saw you as Sigyn, a role model in the super community and one of the strongest, if not the strongest super in the city. They didn’t expect you to mess with their carefully made plans during training sessions. They all got incredibly flustered when you jumped in to help them, or sat on the ground crying and tripping everyone, or all sorts of other things that just messed with their plans. It was one of their important lessons when they started their training, that victims would never do what you expect them to. you did the role so well, that Fury always got you to do the training class whenever he could.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you, but don’t you dare tell Uncle Tony I told,” you started. Loki perked up, extremely interested in a story that he couldn’t tell Tony. “Tony finally proposed to Pepper,” you told him with a grin. “They’re trying to keep it secret, but they suck at it. The entire compound knows, but somehow they haven’t figured it out that we all know,”

“Which one is Pepper, again?” he asked, he had spent as little time with Tony as possible, so of course he hadn’t met Pepper except in passing.

“She’s the extremely formidable woman who runs Tony’s company.  She isn’t around the tower often,” Loki roared in laughter, once he could visualize the woman ordering Tony around.

“You can’t tell Uncle Tony!” you replied firmly, but you were laughing too. Those two were adorable and Tony was totally whipped by Pepper.  Loki promised he wouldn’t tell…yet. You laughed harder, imagining how that was going to go when it happened. “Try to be nice, Lo. This is his first real relationship and we don’t want him to think we’re unsupportive,”

“Two questions,” he started. You grinned at him, but nodded. “Firstly, Lo? Where did Lo? come from?” 

You looked away, Loki was weird about nicknames. “Sorry,” you murmured, assuming he was offended.

“There is no reason to be sorry, darling. It was just a question. I was simply surprised.” His voice was gentle and reassuring.

“Everyone else has nicknames…” you mumbled defensively.  Loki deserved one as well.

He pressed on, leaving that subject for another time, probably when you were less defensive. You knew you was being a bit extra defensive right now, and it wasn’t entirely fair, but you were hindered by your lack of powers. You hated feeling helpless. “Secondly, what do you mean by unsupportive?”

“Uncle Tony is still known as a womanizer from his life before the Avengers.  He’s afraid of going public with Pepper and thinks people will be mean to her, will claim she’s just another woman in a long line of forgetable faces,” you explained. “I don’t want Uncle Tony to feel that way when he finally gets up the courage to tell me.” 

He thought about that, but nodded. “Earth is strange sometimes,” he finally replied. You could tell that he didn’t understand why people would be against someone loving someone else, or would dare say anything against Pepper. “But with that being the case, I promise to be nice when he tells us. After that he is fair game for teasing, just like everyone else,” he added with a grin.

“Naturally,” you replied dryly as Loki caught the waitress’ attention to order another round of pancakes. She looked visibly scared by that. You sighed and reached in to your purse. “Candice,” you told her, reading her name badge. “I promise we’re not trying to get you in to trouble. We’re just trying to have a nice breakfast. If we’re causing you or the chef trouble, I’m sorry. Look, here’s your tip in advance,” you told her and handed her a hundred dollar bill. It was going to be her tip regardless. you were rich and could afford to tip crazily. “Can you send the chef out to talk to us? We’ll explain it to him,” you added. The chef came out and was much happier with you once he had gotten your autographs and you gushed about how delicious his pancakes were. He also got a tip and promised you as many pancakes as you could eat anytime you came in. Once that was settled, you got back to your conversations about your friends.

Your breakfast date was going wonderfully until there was a giant crunching crash of metal outside the restaurant. You whirled instinctively to see what it was to find a huge car crash right outside the window. Both cars looked instantly totaled and one was on fire. You looked over at Loki, who had already shifted into his black and green battle armor. “Loki,” you said softly, holding out your wrist to him. You figured he had been lying earlier when he said he couldn’t remove it. 

He hesitated, until you heard the child crying, screaming in pain and terror. “Do not tell your uncle,” he told you firmly. You nodded you agreement. He removed the bangle from your arm. You dropped a wad of cash on the table to cover your bill, vanished your purse, and shifted to your own battle armor in a moment. You ran from the pancake house to help. The crash was huge. Five cars were involved. Loki pointed to one. “The child is in that one,” he called. You nodded and rushed over. Of course it was the car that was on fire.

You grabbed the fire with your power and snuffed it almost immediately. Fire was yours to control. You tried to pull the car doors open, but they were locked. You cursed and used telekinesis to force them open, ripping them from the hinges. You got the child out first and was already healing him while you worked to get his mom out of the front of the car. She was somehow mostly uninjured. It took only a moment and a small bit of power to heal her. Her son… You set him on the ground so you could place both hands on him to heal him.

They were healed quickly.  You handed the son to the woman and sent her in the direction of the pancake house. As you did, you noted the sound of sirens. Help was coming soon. “Sig!” Loki called. You looked over and saw the victim he was helping. The guy had been nearly decapitated. You ran over and slid to your knees, kneeling next to him. Loki had been dumping healing magic into the man, but he didn’t have enough, not for how fast this healing needed to be done. You placed both of your glowing hands on the poor man’s neck, telling him gently to be silent and calm. He didn’t listen, but it had been worth a try. You dumped healing magic into him and knit his throat back together as fast as you could.

“Is everyone else clear of the cars?” you asked Loki while you worked.

“I will check. Be safe,” he told you firmly and overprotectively. You nodded absently, focused on your work. You got the guy healed enough that he wasn’t bleeding, his muscles were knit back together. He could move. He would need more healing, but he’d live for now. You sent him on his way towards the pancake house, where all of the victims were gathering.

Loki had pulled all of the victims from the cars and everyone who was capable of moving was heading to the gathering spot. You went to him to help with those who were too injured to move. You were healing another child when one of the cars exploded behind you. You threw a shield up around the people you were healing, and incidentally, Loki, but healers are not great at self preservation and you realized too late that your shield didn’t actually cover you.  It covered your charges instead.

You realized this as you were flying through the air from the explosion. Loki and Tony were both going to kill you.

Repeatedly.

You landed hard on the concrete in front of the pancake house and shakily got back to your feet, examining your injuries. Cut on your head. You were scraped up all to hell. Bruised if not broken ribs. You didn’t even want to think about the arm you had landed on.

Loki and Tony were so going to kill you.

And still, you rushed back to the victims. You couldn’t heal myself, only others, so you threw all of your healing magic into healing the car crash victims. The police had finally arrived, so you had to finish this quickly. “Loki, drop your magic,” you told him. He did instantly, trusting your plans, trusting you. You were grateful for it, grateful for his trust.

You closed your eyes and raised your hands, concentrating. You let the healing power flow from you to all five of the gravely injured in front of you, plus Loki who had gotten cut by something while he was rescuing people. It took more magic to do it that way, but you were  grounded for the next week regardless, and these people needed help now. So you let the power flow, fixing bones, muscles, tissues, stopping bleeding. It only took a minute, but it was the longest minute you’d experienced in a long time. You needed Loki’s help to stand again when you had finished, drained from the power use. “Don’t tell Tony,” you told Loki as he got to work healing you before you had to go give police statements.

“Only if I am allowed yell at you myself for forgetting to include yourself in the shield,” Loki growled at you.  Yep, he was pissed.

“That’s fair,” you replied easily. “At least I only get the lecture once that way,”

It took forever to give your statements and get everything settled with the cops. After that, you and Loki trudged your way back into the pancake house. You had intended to make sure everyone was ok in there. Instead, you were greeted with cheers from all of the waitstaff instead and thanks from the people you had helped. There were also fresh stacks of pancakes waiting on your table for you.

“Tony is going to kill us,” you told Loki a few minutes later when you had sat down to eat in a post battle stupor, still in costume and covered in battle grime and the minor cuts and scrapes that didn’t get healed by the quick battle healings.

“Why do you say that?” he asked with his mouth full of pancake, so very unlike him that you knew he was exhausted from the battle. You pointed to the TV on the wall. It was showing a news report of the crash. You and Loki were featured, rushing in to save the victims of the crash.

“Tony is going to kill us,” Loki agreed sourly.

“Well, he’s just going to have to wait until after I finish my pancakes,” you replied tiredly. You were getting really tired of constant emergencies and really hoped things would calm down soon. “We should go find out what Tom and Kelly want before Tony gets ahold of us,” you suggested after you had finished your pancakes and were walking back to your car, still in costume. Loki grinned at you and nodded.

“That does sound much more agreeable than a lecture from your uncle. But first,” he held out his hand. “Wrist,” he ordered gently. You glared at him, but he didn’t give in. “Darling, you have already stopped resting because it was absolutely necessary. Those people would have died, and I admit that I could not have saved them all on my own. But you have got to rest, love, preferably before you drop from exhaustion. You are not going to do that if the healers at the compound can call on you for help,” he reminded you firmly, despite his gentle tone.

You sighed. “I know. I just hate being helpless. It sucked the years I lived with them without powers. It’s even worse now that I’ve gotten used to being the strongest super among them.” 

“I know, love. Believe me, I know. I’m sorry you have had to face all of this alone. I’m sorry that they took advantage of your kindness so badly. I’m here for you now. Please, trust me to take care of you so you can heal yourself. Please, my darling, please let me help you,” his voice was too close to begging. You heard the pleading and desperation in his voice.

“If anything bad happens, I am going to be quite cross with you,” you finally told him, stealing one of his lines as you held out your wrist for him. That earned you a tiny smile. 

He fastened the bangle back around your wrist. “I would expect nothing less.” He leaned down and kissed you gently.

[youngjusticeslut]

And They Were Roommates (Chapter 6)

Fandom: Young Justice Links: FF.net // AO3 Characters:  Artemis Crock, Dick Grayson, Lian Harper, Roy Will Harper, Jade Nguyen Ships: RedCat Summary: While Jade and Roy were out on their date, Artemis babysits her niece. Rating: T Word Count: 2545 Disclaimer: I don’t own any of these characters.

Babysitting wasn't so hard.

Artemis had never seen herself as a motherly person, by any definition of the word. Really, she hadn't given kids much thought at all before her and Wally had gotten together. Even then, they'd both known it was a long way off. Aside from a couple comments on how cute their future offspring would be, they hadn't even discussed it. She knew Wally had wanted kids, someday, and she'd accepted it.

There had been a short period of time, in the weeks after his ceasing, that Artemis bought a bag full of pregnancy tests. Just in case. Zatanna had found her once, crying on the floor of the bathroom with three negative tests all around her, insisting that now she had nothing. Not exactly a highlight of her summer. At the time, having Wally's baby seemed like the perfect way to remember him by. Looking back, she wanted to shake herself for being so illogical. With him gone, the only kids in her future would be the pre-teenage kind; 'mentor' sounded a whole lot more appealing than 'mother'.

Still, there was something about Lian that was so easy. An adjective she never would have guessed would be used to describe any offspring of her sister's. Upon first learning about Lian, Artemis could only imagine the little terror she would grow up to become. She never would have expected her to turn out to be such a sweet little thing.

Artemis wasn't sure if it was genetics, the parenting, or sheer luck; all three bore equal chances as to how her niece turned out.

"Boosey," Lian insisted, clapping her hands and trying to scoot closer to the dog. When he heard his name, Brucely wagged his tail for a quick moment. Upon realizing that it was his new torturer, he scampered away to the kitchen. Artemis couldn't help but laugh at the disappointment on Lian's face, smoothing back her hair.

"I told you, Babe, he doesn't forgive easy. You pulled his tail one too many times."

"Boosey!"

"Who needs Brucely when you have your cool aunt Artemis?" she asked, picking up Lian and holding her over her head, making her fly. That quickly eliminated any displeasure on the baby's face, instead morphing into utter glee.

Artemis laughed again, making her niece fly for a few moments before setting her down in front of her toys. "What do you suppose Mama and Daddy are up to?" she asked, handing Lian a couple of blocks. The blocks fascinated her enough to miss Artemis' question, thus no answer.

It was a wonder Jade had agreed to go out with Roy at all. Artemis could only imagine how terrible the night would go. "It's going to go one of two ways, Lian," she explained, helping her build a block tower. "Either your Mama and Daddy are going to fight, or they're going to have sex. You know what that means?"

Lian ignored her, knocking down the block tower and cheering in delight.

"It means," Artemis said, building up the tower once again, "that either way, I'm going to end up with a headache. But between you and me, I think I'd prefer the sex," she muttered.

The baby nodded thoughtfully. "Sex," she repeated, picking up a block and trying to place it at the top of the small tower.

Artemis' eyes widened and she balked, unsure of what to say. Her first thought was that Roy was going to kill her. The immediate afterthought was that she didn't care, because this was hilarious. "We're going to keep this little development between the both of us, cool?" she asked.

In response, Lian knocked down the tower again; it was close enough to an agreement.

They played together for a while, building block towers and tossing different toys around. At some point, Lian started to stick everything in her mouth so Artemis gave her a pacifier. All in all, Lian was a very low-maintenance baby; it was no wonder how Jade got along with her so well.

Around nine, Artemis' phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, her stomach sinking when she saw the name on the text. While part of her, the weaker part, told her to ignore it, she couldn't. Artemis hadn't heard from him since the funeral. Her fingers were clumsy as she dialed him, praying that he wouldn't send yet another one of her calls to voicemail.

Luck was on her side, today.

"You're in Gotham?"

"Promised Tim a visit. Thought I'd see if you were around."

Artemis smiled, curling her legs underneath her and handing Lian one of her toy trucks. "No such luck, Grayson. Thought the world's greatest detective would know that."

"He's been a little off his game lately. Where are you?"

"Long Beach."

"Working on your tan?"

She scoffed. "Not quite. I'm babysitting."

"I hope the kid is cute, at least."

"The cutest." Lian squealed in discontent as Artemis ignored the rattling toy she tried to give her. Her aunt mouthed an apology and took the toy, shaking it and bopping her on the head. "I'm watching my niece."

Dick hummed on the other end. "I was wondering why Cheshire had gone quiet." There was no judgement in Dick's voice. Her other friends, they either wouldn't ask, or there would be a note of discontent in their voices when they did. Everyone who met Lian loved her. It was just her parents' relationship they disapproved of. "She and Roy still trying to make things work?"

"They're on a date. God only knows what kind of trouble they're getting up to."

"Want some company?"

"Maybe not tonight. Lian's being very insistent for her aunt's full attention," Artemis said, pulling her niece onto her lap and cuddling her. "But soon. I want to see you."

"Miss me?"

"More than you know, Batboy. Have you finally come out of hiding?"

Dick laughed, but it was forced. "You could say that. Fancy a trip to the east coast next week?"

"You mean you don't want to experience the California sun?"

"Thought we could go to Bibbo's. Like old times."

It took a second for Artemis to come up with a response. Her, Wally and Dick had spent far too many evenings at Bibbo's, gorging on milkshakes and french fries, pretending to study but doing anything but. The team had used to go, too. They would order one of everything on the menu and Wally would eat anything they didn't finish. It would never be like old times.

"Maybe not Bibbo's," Dick said to her silence. "Pizza?"

"Yeah, Pizza works," she sighed, holding Lian closer to her chest. She was so lucky that she was too young for heartache. "I just want to see you."

"I want to see you too, 'Mis. Talk soon, okay?"

"You got it, Dick."

Artemis was never, ever going to let them live this down. Not long after she finished her conversation with Dick, she spied the ever telling flash of blue and red lights. At first she hadn't looked outside, figuring it was just a drug-bust, or some overzealous teenagers getting caught. The aching urge to spy took over and she finally opened the balcony door to observe.

The sight of Jade and Roy, barely clothed and in handcuffs was something she was never going to forget. It didn't take five minutes before she was down there, planning to do some damage control.

"Well look at what we have here," Artemis simpered, smirking at her sister and brother-in-law. "I thought you said she was kidding, Roy."

"Miss, this is a private matter. I suggest you take yourself elsewhere," the policeman urged, nodding towards the street.

"I'm their family. You mind telling me what they're being charged with?" Artemis asked, turning her gaze to Jade who looked far too comfortable for her liking.

"Indecent exposure. Having sex in public is a misdemeanor, Ma'am." Artemis' eyes narrowed at her two roommates. On the one hand, she couldn't believe that they were stupid enough as to do this; on the other, she wasn't surprised in the least.

Jade rolled her eyes. "We don't need your help, Sis. I was handling it just fine," she insisted in Vietnamese, only to be shoved by Roy, who was nearly as red as his hair.

"Just get us out of here. I'm cold and this is embarrassing," he muttered back, his Vietnamese not nearly as polished as his wife's.

"Really?" Jade cocked her head to the side. "More embarrassing than the time you-"

"Shut up, Jade. For the love of whatever is up there, I'm begging you."

Artemis shook her head before looking to the officer. He was young and a little naive looking; this wouldn't be too hard to get out of. She'd managed to get out of worse. "Right. Well, as you can see, these two are tourists," she explained, rocking Lian's stroller back and forth when she felt her shifting. The last thing they all needed was for her to wake up and start screaming. "They didn't know what they were doing."

"Tourists?" the officer frowned, glancing at Jade, who grinned, and then Roy. "The both of them?"

"That's a little racist, don't you think?" Artemis asked, turning her glare on the officer. "They're visiting me from Vietnam. These two idiots didn't know any better."

"I'll need to see their passports," the policeman said, wavering a bit when Jade winked at him.

"Look, Officer, I'll be honest with you," Artemis began, leaning against the stroller. "This can go one of two ways. You can wait here for me to get their passports, arrest them, and take them to court. But I assure you, this trial won't be as cut and dry as you think."

"Are you threatening me?" the policeman asked, narrowing his eyes.

Artemis held up her hands. "Not at all, Sir. I'm just saying, you don't seem to have a lot of evidence. Are you sure you caught them having sex?"

"They were in the water, Ma'am."

"Yes, but they still have their underwear on," she said, nodding to the two.

"Not by choice," Jade piped up. "Roy was being so awfully slow."

"Shut up, Jade."

Artemis pretended to listen to them before looking back at the policeman. "They were intending on going skinny dipping and got carried away. How can I be sure that you're not prejudicing against them because they're foreign?"

"Well, I-"

"Look, I don't want a case, and I'm pretty sure you don't. So why don't you let these two off with a warning and let the embarrassment of being caught be enough of a punishment?" Artemis concluded before nodding to the baby in the stroller. "If not for them, do it for their poor child, who has to live with these idiots."

"I can't just let them go-"

"If you need a crime to bust, I heard a scuffle coming in that direction," she said, gesturing to the busy street.

The policeman looked between Artemis to Jade and Roy before he finally sighed and moved to uncuff them. "A warning," he agreed. "Make sure they're well versed on the law here in America. Next time, they won't be so lucky."

"I assure you, there won't be a next time," Artemis promised.

Jade grinned as she was uncuffed, drinking in the young policeman without hesitation. "I wouldn't be so sure about that. I'd get in all kinds of trouble just to see him again," she purred, still in Vietnamese.

"No, you won't," Roy growled, rubbing his wrists and trying to locate his pants.

Once the policeman was out of sight, Artemis glared at the two. "I can't believe you let yourselves be caught. Really, don't you two know any better?"

Jade shrugged. "We've never been caught before. I thought it would be kinky."

Her husband immediately whirled on her, blue eyes wide. "You knew?"

"Of course. Did you really think that I didn't know a rent-a-cop was sneaking up on us. I'm more surprised that you didn't know."

Artemis snickered. "She has a point. No wonder the Shadows found you out." She could tell that Roy was about to explode, so she shushed him before he could, nodding to Lian who was still miraculously asleep. "Wouldn't want to wake the baby, now would you?"

"Well, that was fun. It was nice to speak Vietnamese for a bit," Jade mused, slipping into her clothes far too easily. "You should really work on yours, Red. Your pronunciation is atrocious."

"You're awfully calm for someone who almost just got arrested. What would have happened if they found you out, Jade?" Artemis scolded, pushing the stroller back to the apartment once the two were dressed. "There are hotels for a reason, you know."

"We weren't thinking," Roy muttered. "It won't happen again."

"Right, like I believe that. Please, next time, be a little more careful. I had to drag your baby out here, and it's chilly, and she could get sick," Artemis continued. "If this had gone any further, I probably would have had to get Ollie involved, and we all know how that would have turned out. So next time you guys are feeling kinky, try a sex shop," she muttered, turning to look at them.

But they were gone.

"For fuck's sake," she muttered, shaking her head as she entered the lobby of the apartment. Still, she wasn't surprised. At least she didn't have to worry about their thwarted sexcapade taking place in the room next to hers. "Your parents suck," she said to her sleeping niece as they entered the elevator.

Still, at least they seemed to be getting along better. It would make meals a lot more enjoyable; before she could cut the tension between them with a knife. Hopefully this was the start of the two of them working out their issues.

She exited the elevator and rolled the stroller towards the apartment, looking forward to nothing more than a quiet night of Netflix and wine. Instead, Artemis was greeted with a folded paper on the door. She raised a brow and opened it.

Thanks for the breakout, Sis. Door will be unlocked before midnight.

"No. No, this is not happening," Artemis growled, banging on the door. "Jade! Jade, I swear to god, you better open this door right fucking now," she growled, reaching in her pocket for her key. But it was gone. She swore she heard a chuckle from inside the apartment, followed by a concerning amount of banging.

Artemis groaned, sliding down the wall and banging the door for good measure, pulling out her phone again. "Correction, Lian. Your parents are the fucking worst."

[kotolocke]

Entry #03: Violet City.

Get ready boys, this is where the serious battling starts. And it starts with a big tower dedicated to a living vine. I love Pokemon. We’re gonna cover Lyra’s adventures in Sprout Tower, Route 32 and Violet Gym. But first—

—apparently Falkner gets some guy to stop people who haven’t beaten the monks at Sprout Tower? Violet City seems hella interconnected so expect a world-building post on that soon. Regardless, on with the show!

Sprout Tower.

   Okay, first off, this place is so interesting? I always forget about it but seeing as this is a place Lyra visits early on in her journey it’s pretty significant in shaping her ideas of what being a trainer is all about.

   She’s taking part in an ancient tradition, and she needs to honour it by making sure she trains her Pokemon in such a way that is respectful to them and the Pokemon handlers of the past. She also kicks these monks asses very hard. Who’s the training master now?

   Of course, we’re in a new area so we’ve got a chance to get a new friend, so meet Plum!

I really need to stop forgetting to take snaps of Pokemon in battle smh. I may have cheated a little and waited until night to go into the tower so I had a shot at getting Lyra something other than a Rattata and as you can see it payed off! Back to Plum though, he’s a pretty dower Pokemon. Ghost-types tend to come in two flavours; extremely silly and playful, messing about with other Pokemon and people for their own amusement or serious and weary of others, sometimes even vengeful—people tend to be scared of them and this sometimes leaves them feeling bitter and lonely. Plum’s a mild version of the second variety, he’s sombre and baleful, preferring to wear opponents down with status moves rather than go on a full out offensive. He’s a little weary of Lyra and her party when he’s first captured but he also appreciates the fact he’s finally in company that’s obliged to be nice to him. Small mercies. 

  I’m not gonna cover the rest of the randos in the tower because they and their dialogue belong in a world-building post, so let’s climb on up to the top...

   ...Where Lyra has her second encounter with Silver. Or half encounter? Can it really be considered an encounter if it’s not clear if they saw each-other? They did in blog canon anyway, Lyra insisted he must have cheated because there’s no way a mean, useless trainer like him could have defeated a great sage, Silver told her to shut up because weak trainers and their puny Pokemon have no business judging others. Which causes the Elder to level this choice criticism @ Silver:

Which, ofc, pisses Silv right off.

   So just to reiterate, early-game Silver’s an asshole, but this whole exchange kinda makes me wonder how uncommon Silver’s attitude towards Pokemon is? I’ll probably write a more in-depth world-building post about it later but as much as the games try to emphasise this ‘you should love your Pokemon!’ attitude, I don’t think many trainers really love their Pokemon with the same intensity I see Lyra loving hers? I mean HGSS in particular have a plot-line about how it’s actually not good to make Pokemon evolve before they’re ready but plenty of Gym Leaders and E4 members have Pokemon that are too low of a level to be at the evolutionary stage they are. I think Silver’s a very extreme trainer and very few people are as callous as he is towards his Pokemon, but. The Elder is absolutely in the minority of people who don’t think of Pokemon as “tools of war”—most treat their Pokemon decently, with respect, but they are primarily seen as living weapons that require a firm hand. Pokemon were once seen as enemies of man in feudal times and most people still don’t feel as friendly towards them as they would other humans.

  Anyway, enough world-building, let’s talk about Lyra’s battle with the Elder.

If you couldn’t tell, this Hoothoot was legitimately the first Pokemon that gave me any trouble and I actually got kinda scared Nutmeg was gonna faint but ultimately it didn’t take too long to defeat him. In blog cannon this fight probably makes Lyra realise that she’s gonna have to get a little more serious about battling if she wants to make it as a trainer. She’s good at training Pokemon to unleash cool little tricks and strategies in battle but I think at this point in her journey she sometimes keeps Pokemon out for longer than she should ‘cause she wants to show off a cool trick she came up with. And, well,

 seems to have worked on the Elder; he clearly likes her stuff!

Route 32.

   Before Lyra goes ahead and does battle Falkner, she’s gotta get a little extra training in. Though the message still hasn’t quite sunk in, the battle with the Elder makes her realise she should probably try to toughen her Pokemon up a little should they get stuck in a tight spot again.

   Now behold our potential new teammate from this area, a Bellsprout!

Unfortunately, Cabbage hit her with a crit Razor Leaf and she fainted in game. In blog canon she just ran off into the treeline and Lyra decided it would just be kinda cruel to pursue her. Hopefully she can just synthesise the damage off.

   Now, it’s time for a t-t-t-t-training montage! A couple of cool things happen whilst Lyra’s training in this area. First up and probably most important—

—Pod evolves! At this point Lyra’s been on the road for around a week and a half so his pupation time is up and he’s finally a beautiful Butterfree! He’s very eager to try out some of the techniques Lyra, Cabbage & Nutmeg have practised; he can fly but he’s not got claws like Meg has so he relies on a combination of spores and powders (like Cabb) and special moves. Lyra earns Pod’s eternal love by basically letting him go ham on a bunch of wild Bellsprouts and scaring them off with a Confusion he lets loose while flying around in high-speed circles. Lyra did feel bad about that later but in the moment she was just happy to see her little man so excited.

Best!! Friends!!

   Another member of the team starts to grow closer to Lyra at this point too; the newly caught Plum!

As previously mentioned, he starts off pretty gloomy and he kinda struggles to keep eye-contact with Lyra because he’s a little shy. He’s also not used to being out in sunlight; it doesn’t hurt him or anything but it takes a while for his eyes to adjust to it. But as soon as he realises Lyra’s highkey fascinated by him—Ghost-types are amongst the most poorly understood Pokemon and thus she hasn’t been able to read up on them much—and genuinely wants to work out how to put his weird ghostly powers to best use, he gets attached to her really quickly. He’s just never had anyone be so vocally supportive of him before! And all the rest of her Pokemon are so nice to him too??

Plum loves his new trainer so much!!

Violet Gym.

   It’s time baby.

Hell.

Yeah.

   There’s not too much to say about the trainers leading up to Falkner. They were pretty easy and one of them comments on the fact that Lyra’s mad strong. My headcanon that the protags are prodigies isn’t a headcanon lads, it’s just Facts.

See? Anyway the dojo-esque vibes in this Gym kinda made me wonder; are Gym’s called gyms because the trainers under the leader train their Pokemon there? Are they kinda like advanced Pokemon schools? Obviously the trainers have to be at least decent to be able to act as a leader’s gatekeeper but they’re probably there primarily to train under them. It’s definitely a topic for a worldbuilding post. Anyway that’s not important right now, what’s important right now is—

—Falkner.  

   Lyra had no trouble dealing with his first Pokemon, a level 9 Pidgey didn’t face up well against Lyra’s team of level 11s. Blog-wise, Scritches dealt with it very quickly by using a Quick Attack aimed at the ground to knock it out of the air.

  But the level 13 (under-leveled!) Pidgeotto that followed was an absolute menace. It was absolutely the bulkiest Pokemon Lyra had battled against so far and that combined with it’s Roost move made it incredibly difficult for her Pokemon to get any damage on it. 

He

completely 

rased

her 

team.

   As the fight progressed, Lyra began to cotton on to the fact that there was something not quite right about this Pidgeotto. After a Pokedex scan revealed it’s odd level, she began to suspect that this wasn’t a Pokemon that Falkner trained himself. It took a highly skilled trainer to get a Pokemon to evolve and unorthodox (and sometimes cruel) methods to get a Pokemon to evolve before it’s reached a level of power that it normally would need to do so. And Gym leader Falkner might be, but highly experienced trainer he is not. 

   By the time her last Pokemon went down, Lyra was fuming mad and extremely anxious. She rushed back to the Pokecentre and spent the next six hours flying between panic attacks as she hoped and prayed her Pokemon would pull through and utter rage at the fact that a league official would use a Pokemon that they had not only not trained themselves but also potentially abused. When her Pokemon were finally stabilised and returned to her she was still pacing around the Pokecentre for an hour after, trying to work out how best to tackle Falkner in a rematch.

   Eventually she decided that she had focused too intensely on raw attack power. If she was going to deal with a trainer who made use of some underhanded training techniques then it was only logical that she would have to get him back with some nasty tricks of her own. She and Plum were going to need to spend a little extra time training together, and I’ll be going into the details of it in the next entry.

[eerythingisshaka]

Kings’ Trip (4)

T’Challa, M’Baku, Redeemed! Erik

Warnings: Cussin’, Family rivalries, slight, light peppering of implied smut, not even alladat. You’ll see.

Word Count: 2.8K  (it’s a miracle I stayed within rule max)

A/N: This is part of a The Black Panther fandom collab created by @royallyprincesslilly.  I really enjoyed doing this chapter, way more fun than I could’ve ever expected.  Honored to have taken part, this community it so blessed.  @katasstrophey, SHE READY!

Chapters: Kings’ Trip (1) By: @sisterwifeudaku, Kings’ Trip (2) By: @blackandfair (3) By: @royallyprincesslilly

 The trip was proving to be a lot more than T’Challa signed up for.  It was something when Erik’s reckless, loudmouth self and M’Baku’s narcissistic, disrespectful attitude were the most mild people he would have to deal with.  The stress sat heavily on them into the next day.  At least, on everyone but Erik.

“Aight niggas, we headed to the beach.  Sun’s out, guns out.”  Erik clad in his swim trunks, towel around his neck, and stunna shades on.

M’Baku was on the TV trying to figure out a video game Erik beat him on.  “I’m not a very summer sun kind of individual, eh?  I’ll just stay back.  AGH!”  He yells as he loses the level again against the CPU.

Erik snatches the controller from M’Baku.  “Listen, you not gonna get any better at this today, trust me.  If my trash ass beat you on Rainbow Road, you just not cut out for the Kart.”

M’Baku crosses his arms in a huff.  Erik looks over to T’Challa who is stewing over a cup of coffee.  “Now what the hell is your problem?”

T’Challa shakes his head, “Have you been here for the past couple days?  I have a half-brother I never knew existed, you remember that?”

Erik sucks his teeth.  “Don’t be actin like you never been through this before, dawg.  You got a new cousin outta some Maury type shit, and we good!”

T’Challa looks over at Erik sullenly, “Our scenario is exactly what I am afraid of.”

Erik claps T’Challa on the back, “Don’t take it so hard, T.  That’s why we need to get you out the house.  This is still our kingcation, remember?!  Let’s get out there, check out the waves, the honeys, and get it poppin!”

Nakia comes in the living room from the back, “You guys are going out?”

Erik looks sideways at T’Challa, “No wonder you all blue and shit.  You know we can’t have no real fun unless your girl ghosts, right?”

Nakia glares at Erik, “Please, I couldn’t careless.  But the way you all are treating Adrian, I think it is only right you think of him before going out.”  She looks at T’Challa for confirmation, who turns his face scratching his scalp.

M’Baku steps over to them.  “For the record, I have no ill feelings towards the little guy.  But I wonder the significance of him being brought to our attention now?”

Nakia answers, “This is a sensitive predicament to break down to the tribal leaders.  We don’t want to expose him to too much of what is expected from his existence.  There are two groups of people that could be affected by this; we cannot risk an uproar like LAST time.”  Nakia works her neck in Erik’s direction.

“Aye, it worked itself out in the end right?  Chiiiill.  So what y’all gon do, cuz I’m headed for some mai tai’s and gettin a good spot on the beach real quick.”

Nakia shrugs, “That’s fine.  I’ll call Adrian to join you all.”

T’Challa perks up at this, “Eh?  Why do you keep pushing this boy off on us?  He is a grown man, he can make his way on his own.  Why are you acting like his mother?”

Nakia steps right under T’Challa’s nose.  “He is still young and impressionable though.  You spent all of your life thinking your father was the greatest man, without flaws.  As you have become grown, you see it is the opposite and it just keeps getting deeper!  How DARE you blame him for his situation.  You need to soften your heart and welcome him as your blood.  Stop thinking about the throne and your status and take in your family!”

M’Baku plants his hands on both their shoulders, “Ok, let us calm this lover’s quarrel.  Nakia, go ahead and call him.”

T’Challa knocks M’Baku’s hand off him, “What gives you any right to-”

“That is MY cousin, T’Challa.  I have EVERY right to see him while we are here.  Watch your tongue when speaking of a Jabari.”  M’Baku says pointing a finger in T’Challa’s face.

Erik claps his hands, “Aight!  I fucking love Black ass family reunions.  Leggo!”

The crew make their way to the beach and it’s packed with folks.  Erik and M’Baku race to get to some chairs that were unoccupied to claim.  M’Baku stretches out, yawning, “Ahh, the sun is so draining….”

Erik taps his chest, “Uh uh, Baku, getcha ass on up.  We goin to get some liq up in our sys.”

M’Baku sits up confused, “Why do you always speak like a broken radio?  I can only understand every other word with you.”  He gets up to walk off with Erik.

“T’Challa, you coming through?”  Erik asks.

T’Challa is laying back in a chair, towel covering his face as he waves them away without a word.  While they were gone, T’Challa contemplated the complexities of his family tree.  He prayed that his father didn’t have some kind of Zeus complex, making children wherever he laid his head.  

Soon as T’Challa started to drift off, an annoying yet familiar voice came to him.

“Aye!  The seagulls will make a meal out of you if you don’t stop laying out here roasting like this.”

Moving the towel, T’Challa sees his sister Shuri.  She had her braids half up and half down, with a cute patterned bikini on with a skirt coverup.

T’Challa sits up mortified, “Eh, you walk out of the house looking like this?!”  

Shuri puts a hand on her hip, “I do and I have already.  No angry mobs have rushed me in horror brother, so thanks.”

T’Challa tosses his shirt at her, “Put this on.  You are too young to be wearing that.”

Shuri looks at him sideways, throwing the shirt back.  “You do realize toddlers where things very similar to this as well, yeah?  Calm your blood pressure, umkhulu.”

Erik and M’Baku are laughing and chatting coming back to the chairs.  “Aye look who found us, y’all!”  Erik had Adrian in a headlock.  

T’Challa’s heart rate began to speed up, he did not want Shuri to know about their new found brother yet.  “Good, you all made it!  Shuri is here, but she was just about to leave to meet with Nakia, right?”  T’Challa makes a face for her to scram.

Shuri waves him off, “Pssh, I have no obligations at the moment.  Let me hang out with my cousin and Baku!  Who is this guy, Erik?”

Erik’s face lights up as he starts but T’Challa cuts him off, “ERIK!!  Let’s take Adrian for a drink, eh?  We need to catch up!  M’Baku, keep Shuri company, please.”  T’Challa spins Erik around who still has Adrian locked up.

Erik looks at T’Challa confused, “Why ain’t you lettin’ the little nigga see his sister, man?”

“That was my sister??  Oh man, I always wanted a sister!”  Adrian says under Erik’s pit.

“We need to talk about that, I don’t want to upset her with something like this.  Who knows what she will do.”

They sit under a tiki bar and order some strong cocktails and a round or beers.

“Yeah, get me three beers, yo.  They for me.”  Erik looks over at Adrian winking.  T’Challa smack his arm, “He can’t drink, what are you doing?”

Erik looks at T’Challa, heavy lidded from his alcohol consumption so far.  “Chiiiill, he grown enough.  He already had a beer anyway and he handled that.  I promised him one more, then he cut off, right cuz?”  The shake hands in a cool way that makes T’Challa feel a jolt of envy.  

“So Adrian, what have you been up to lately?”  T’Challa asks.

Adrian sips his beer burping, “Ahh, just helping with the community center mostly.  I’m taking courses at a nearby community college as well.”

T’Challa furrows his brow, “Community college?  Why aren’t you at a university?  You have to apply yourself to the best institutions to get the best-”

“Aight, are we gonna be talking about careers and futures with the kid right now, for real?  T’Challa that’s like the number one thing you should NOT asks a student about: what the fuck they doin in school.”

“Thanks, cuz.  But T’Challa, I’m only going since it is the best thing for me to do, financially.  I get my prerequisites covered by going to community college first.  And I’m passing with flying colors, so it’s all good.”

T’Challa nods, blankly drinking his cocktail.  He forgot about how America’s schools were not as accessible as Wakanda’s.  He cursed himself for assuming Adrian was a slacker.

The bartender lines up some shots in front of them, filling them.

“We did not order these.”  T’Challa speaks up.

The bartender smiles jerking his head in to the right of them, “They’re covered.”

Two melanated baddies wave sipping and giggling at them.  

“Well shit, that’s my day made, right there.”  Erik says as he downs all three of the shots.  “Y’all conversate and shit while I go and knock down some walls.”

Adrian asks, “You mean break the ice?”

Erik turns rubbing his hands together Birdman style, “Nah, cuz.  Knock. Down. Some walls.”  Erik turns with a flourish.  “Ayyye, y’all wanna feel my scars?  They soft as fuck...”

 T’Challa shakes his head scoffing to himself.  “Now he is the crazy one.  Try not to let him influence-”  T’Challa looks over but Adrian is gone from his seat.  T’Challa sees him attempting to hula hoop with Shuri and M’Baku.  M’Baku is somehow impressively good at it despite his ox-like body.

T’Challa goes back to his original chair to keep tabs on how the conversations were going between Shuri and Adrian.  He still wanted to keep control on letting that information out.  Erik strolls over with the two baddies on either arm.

“And Veronica, this is M’Baku, my man!  I know you like em thicc, he do too, baby.”  

M’Baku drops his hula hoop puffing his chest out as he makes his way to Veronica.  “Pleased to meet you...Veronica.”  M’Baku dips his voice an octave, and Veronica notices with pleasure.

“Mmmm, nice to meet you!  You work that hula hoop pretty good...your hip movements are pretty on point.”  Veronica coos as she holds onto M’Baku close.

M’Baku chuckles, “My dear, I can move anyway you need me too.  That is, if you can keep up?”

Night starts to fall on the beach as Erik has his portable speaker blasting some trap jams, his lady grinds on his lap inconspicuously as they are completely inebriated and feeling each other.  M’Baku is into a beach game with Veronica, Shuri and Adrian.  Adrian has Shuri on his shoulders, Veronica is on M’Baku’s as the girls attempt to push one another over into the water.  Their laughs echo across the beach as T’Challa looks at them and how happy they are.  Adrian definitely acts more like Shuri than him, if he had to admit anything about their relation.  

He watches as M’Baku topples over with Veronica.  Shuri flexes and growls imitating a Jabari chant in victory.  Once M’Baku gets back up he tackles Adrian sending, Shuri and them into the water.  Shuri comes up, disgruntled as she yells at M’Baku for his antics.  Adrian and M’Baku wrestle in the water until M’Baku drags Adrian to the shore, putting him in a sleeper choke hold.

T’Challa thinks it’s getting a little too rough, so he gets up running over to them, “All right, that is enough!”

M’Baku laughs, “It is over when he taps out.  Show me what you’ve got, little one!”

Adrian squeaks, “I know you are getting tired; water sports are easier on the joints for the elderly!”

M’Baku lets out a hearty laugh, “Oh, how rich!  He has the Udaku mouth, that is for sure.  Jabari act more than speak!”

T’Challa puts M’Baku in a hold that shakes him up.  M’Baku lets Adrian go, rolling his body forward to whip T’Challa off of his back.

“The hell is wrong with you T’Challa?  Did you think I was going to kill him?”  M’Baku asks.  Shuri watches from a distance.

T’Challa gets up, wiping sand off of him.  “You know better than to hurt someone of royal blood.”

M’Baku guffaws, “Oh we acknowledge him now, do we?  The lost brother is now welcome!  Bring your fattest pig, finest clothes, rings for every finger!  Oh PLEASE!”  M’Baku’s nostrils flare, eyes bucking.  Veronica holds his arm to anchor him.

T’Challa points to him warning, “M’Baku, you treat my brother with resp-”

“HE IS A JABARI! My cousin!”  He says, beating his chest with each syllable.  “You have a problem with how I engage with my cousin, I’ll take it into consideration when you treat him like your brother!”

“T’Challa…”  Shuri looks at him confused.

“Shuri, it’s not-”

“I have been playing this whole time with my own brother, and you knew??  When were you going to tell me?”

“It’s not that simpl-”

“Save it, brother.  I’m calling Nakia to take me to my loft.”  Shuri walks away.

M’Baku asks T’Challa, “The child gets her own loft?”

“I run all the vibranium in Wakanda, what do you think?!”  Shuri calls behind her.  

M’Baku raises his eyebrows, “With ears like a rabbit, it seems.”

T’Challa collects his things, “It’s about time we call it a night.  Adrian you can come with me.  Where did Erik go?”  He and M’Baku look around but see him nowhere.

“Do you wanna call it a night, M’Baku?”  Veronica asks, eyes fluttering.

M’Baku takes her hand, kissing it.  “I must admit that our festivities have drained my energy considerably.”

Veronica frowns, “Well I’m right across the street if you could...walk me home?”

T’Challa starts to head for the penthouse with Adrian , “I will see you later M’Baku.  I’m heading back.”

Once he makes it back to the penthouse, T’Challa crashes on the couch, sighing deeply.  His phone dings with a message from Nakia saying she dropped off Shuri and is coming to get Adrian.

Adrian turns on the TV.  “So Shuri seems nice.”

T’Challa grips the bridge of his nose, “That will change.”

Adrian gets up to go to the fridge, grabbing a water.  “Well maybe she just likes me more than you, who knows.”

T’Challa looks back at him like he is crazy.  “You know her for all of five minutes, and you think she would pick you as a favorite brother?”

Adrian takes a sip, “I’m just saying, we are close in age, and when we were having fun, she was mad at you and storming off so, boom!”  

T’Challa shakes his head, “I don’t argue with children.”  

Adrian walks slowly to the couch, looking confused, turning down the TV slightly.  “T’Challa...I think Erik is here.”

“Yeah I saw shoes and shirt by the door when we walked in.  No home training.”

M’Baku walks in, “How are we doing, gentlemen?”  He is beaming from ear to ear.

“I take it you and Veronica had a nice goodbye.”  Adrian says.

M’Baku plops on the couch, causing Adrian to hop from his weight.  “I do not kiss and tell…”

“Fuck! Oh!” a woman’s voice says

Everyone freezes at the distant exclamation.

“What was….”  T’Challa starts.

“What’s my name, Princess?  Lemme fuckin hear it!”  Erik growls.

“Daddy!  Oh, gimme that daddy dick!”

Adrian covers his giggles, “Remember I told you Erik was here?  It sounded straight up like LL Cool J’s song ‘Doin It’ back there.”

M’Baku gets up striding out to the balcony, “I should’ve just stayed the night with Veronica.  Now I have to hear this.”  He closes the glass behind him.

Nakia walks into the penthouse, “Hey, guys.  Did things go well?”

“Oh! Oh! Oh!”   the woman sounds operatic as she ought to be climaxing with all the noise.

“That’s it, nut on this dick-”

“ERIK!! Keep it down!  Adrian, come on, get out!”  He pulls Adrian to the door to rush him and Nakia out.

Adrian walks down the stairs as Nakia turns to T’Challa.  “I didn’t think of you as someone to half-ass things, T’Challa…”

“I was protecting her-”

Like your father was protecting you!  What does keeping the truth from people do T’Challa, huh?  Has it done you any good?  Erik?”  Nakia storms off. T’Challa leans against the wall outside the penthouse.  He is not used to being the bad guy, but his father left a trash legacy that he must try and turn into a treasure.  Heavy is the head of the privileged.  As T’Challa goes to open the door to return inside, it opens by itself.  Erik’s date walks out, hair a mess, and all around disheveled.

“Aight Leslie, you be careful walking down those steps.  Your hips oughta feel better by Thursday.”  She smiled goofily waving goodbye as Erik leaned against the doorframe watching her go.

“Phew!  Well, what’d I miss?”

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