#if i got benefits i would never leave this job but alas. i need them :(

[cellophobia]

i have worked more in the past 2 weeks than i had for the entire 2 months of november and december . SO hype for this paycheck

[ettadunham]

hi! just yesterday i finally received the confirmation that i got my very first Real Full-Time Job (have been working and doing internships since i was a teen tho), so if you got any advice to survive in the capitalist hell, especially in the beginning, i'm all ears 😭

Anon, I now feel intense pressure to not lead you astray (is this what an older sibling might feel? I'm new to the experience 😂), so I'll start with a disclaimer, like any good little capitalist organization trying to deflect blame: none of what I'm saying might apply to your situation or be helpful in any way.

To be more specific, my advice should not be considered much at all if you're working at a state-funded job instead of a private one, and only maybe partially if you're working at a small business or the service industry. I've only ever been working at corporate jobs because I live alone with my cat and I need to pay rent somehow, so that's all I can speak for.

Okay? Okay. Let us proceed.

You can always just leave.

This truly is the number one rule in a neoliberal hypercapitalistic system. You are already regarded as a resource rather than a human being, so anyone telling you that you should have "company loyalty" or anything the like can shove it up their ass.

Of course, you do still need to consider your own situation. Even if you have enough support to get by for a few months, 9 out of 10 times I'd still advise actually getting a new job offer before handing in a resignation, because then you have more leverage and can be more picky about your new job.

However, I also did the thing that you're not supposed to do when I resigned from my first job personally, and I never really regretted it. It did force me to eventually apply for the same type of job that I didn't initially want to do, but it was a much nicer company and an enormous improvement on not just my mental but physical health (I was literally diagnosed with high blood pressure while working at my first job), so... yeah. If it sucks, hit da bricks, as long as there's a support system behind you.

2. Actually... you should consider quitting every 3 years.

In the corporate landscape, it's actually beneficial to switch jobs from time to time, because they will not raise your pay as much as its value goes up in the job market. This is a fact everyone is aware of, as well as how it actually costs more to hire and train new people every 2 years instead of just keeping the old ones, but alas, it's how shareholder capitalism works. All that matters is the next quarterly report.

That being said, not all of us like change, in fact, most people would prefer to have a stable job where they can just go, have a coffee with their old colleagues at the water cooler, do their shift and go home. Corporate propaganda will have you believe that workers just simply prefer to bounce from one place to another, but in reality, it's more of a necessity that comes from stagnating wages, changing expectations, and a general uncertainty about job security.

So... yeah, it's a bit more depressing when I put it that way, isn't it? But the point stands, especially if you feel like your job might not be secure, it's worth looking around. Maybe even look into adjacent positions where you can develop other skills if you really want to be the bestest boy (gender neutral) at capitalism.

You can of course also just move within the company you're working at if they have the flexibility. They love hiring from inside because then they can underpay you compared to new hires while keeping your knowledge in-house. But, I mean... you get new skills and don't have to change much about your environment? It's all about the symbiosis between worker and corporation where you're always the one getting leeched from anyway. <3

3. Drain them for all their worth.

Chances are, your corporate overlord might have some benefits for you. Make sure to look into it and use all of it. I know that for Americans healthcare is a big issue, so definitely look into what your corporate package offers on that, but also see if there's anything else. Can you go on business trips so you can travel more? Do they offer 20% off on gas? Reimburse you on certain purchases? Can you use your company's money to learn some programming to help you apply to your next job?

Have no shame about coming back with receipts every two weeks. If it's part of the package, it's part of the package. It's already in the company's budget anyway, they do not care.

4. Get along with people.

This is both more important and more complicated than it might look at first blush. Or maybe you're already seeing all the potential problems with this point.

Your workplace is much like high school where you're locked in and forced to interact with a bunch of strangers that you otherwise wouldn't choose to talk to. And you gotta do it every. single. day. Even just thinking about it exhausts my smol undiagnosed authistic heart.

But! I would venture to say that trying to get to know and get along with all those people is the most important thing you can do at your job. Sometimes even more so than actually doing your job, lol. Obviously, the most important part is your own team, but if you're at an office, talk to people at the coffee machine. Ask them about what they do, have small talks, etc. Make the effort to socialize a bit. Go to events if they're during work hours, and use your judgement if it's after work hours. Don't let yourself get sucked in into the whole 'we're a family' company culture and let it take over your life, but if it's something you'd enjoy (e.g.: we have a monthly board game club where I work currently), then it's a good way to build solidarity. And... *sigh* connections.

I did say it's like high school, didn't I? It's all about who you know baybey.

That being said... It's all easier said than done if you don't fit into the status quo and stick out in any way shape or form. Shocker, I know.

People also just have differing views, and you need to learn to deal with that somehow. Sometimes it turns out that whatever seemed like an end-of-the-world division on the internet is not all that important of a difference in reality. And sometimes it's much worse.

The thing you need to keep in mind here is that corporate culture generally loathes disruption, so you're not likely to encounter people saying slurs. Well, you're also not supposed to punch people for saying slurs though. It's all about the delicate balance of whatever is acceptable in polite society, and as long as that line's not crossed, you can either bite your tongue and sell a bit of your soul to the neoliberal gods for your survival, or push back mildly. You know. In a "polite" way uwu.

In any case, if you feel like the environment is too hostile, see point 1. Hit da bricks. Some workplaces are infected by assholery and mismanagement. Use your judgement, etc. If you're like me, living in a protofascist nation right now, you might just resign to the fact that more things are acceptable in polite society than you'd like, and you need to pay your bills instead of arguing with a middle manager about immigrants.

Okay, are we depressed enough about general corporate culture already? Cool. Let's see some actual useful tips then.

5. Talk to the people on your team and be a united front.

Does your company have a union? Then you should join that first thing, but as I've never really had that, I can't tell you much about that experience. What I do know, is that you should always form a united front with your immediate co-workers.

For instance, do you and your team members do the same thing? Then ask them about how much time they take to finish a task. If they say they take a day for something that in reality takes about 4 hours, then do the same. Don't be the asshole telling your boss that you finished it in 3 hours. And most importantly, never snitch on your teammates.

(Speaking of that example, you should also just overestimate how much time something would take. That's just good practice anyway. <3)

But yeah, the bottom line is that your teammates are your first line of defense against any kind of higher up shenanigans. Help each other out, discuss wages, stand your ground together. If you can build solidarity outside of your team, that's even better, but your teammates are the ones who can immediately step up for you if needed.

Obviously, realistically you can only give back as much as you receive. If your team doesn't feel the solidarity juice quite as much as you do, there's not much you can do about it other than give an opening and then adapt. At the end of the day, corporate culture incentivices individual achievement over collectivism despite all their empty slogans like "team work" or whatever.

Speaking of which...

6. Advocate for yourself.

So I am going to go completely against my previous point by saying that you need to speak up and advocate for yourself individually. If you want a raise, then call up your team lead, and tell them that you want a raise. Bring them the facts about your work, your achievements, if you have some of those juicy KPI numbers and they make you look good, then read them up, talk about how long you've been at the company, about inflation, the company's self-proclaimed growth... Give them an expectation even, and be prepared to talk in detail about how you are in fact the most bestest at your work actually, and politely imply that you might need to look elsewhere otherwise.

That being said... It's also just good practice to talk about your team's achievements as well. Last time I did this, I actually managed to get all of my team a small raise, even without trying all that much for a collective bargaining. In a healthy team environment, you should be able to talk up each of your team members in one way or another. You might be told that there's a limited amount of money going around for these raises, but it's not like you were ever gonna get more of it. Corporations will pay you as little as possible at every step of the way.

See point 1 and 2 again.

So, yeah. Make sure to advocate for yourself, especially if you've been at the company for a while (the time period here might vary, but bringing it up after a year is a good start if there's been no raises), or heard that you were getting less than your coworkers. Be your own hype man, while not talking down the rest of your team. Otherwise they might "forget" to pay you any of your deserved compensation.

This also goes in other aspects as well. If you're at a chill workplace, you can always bring it up to your boss if you hate your current work, and want to do something else. Employers are usually more accomodating for these types of complaints, and might even help you find other tasks or even a different position in the company, depending on the opportunities. (They might just try to give you more work at first though, lol, so be specific.) And if they're not chill... well, there's not much to lose, because you should already be thinking about point 1 again.

7. Work less, bullshit more.

This is it! This is the point that we are here for.

How to do as little work as humanly possible without getting at the top of the firing list. The true mysteries of the universe. We'll be combining some of what we learned in the previous points for this.

First things first, no, you should never bring your 100% for a bullshit corporate job. You might think that they'll appreciate it and you for it, but the truth is, whatever bonus or raise you might be getting is not gonna be all that much. And it's not going to worth all the effort you put into it.

Remember, corporations will always pay you as little as possible and toss you away at the first sign of inconvenience.

No, all that work is going to do to you is burn you out, and infringe upon your family or social life. If you're doing grunt work especially, then make sure to keep your boundaries. Keep a table about your work hours, even if it's not kept by your workplace, and make sure to keep it always at 8 or whatever your required hours are. Don't answer your email or phone outside of that window.

Even when it comes to your work hours, make sure to take breaks, take your time with your lunch. It's actually kinda unhealthy to work for 8 hours straight anyway, your brain is gonna be a mush by the end.

And also, as we talked about it, make sure to coordinate with your co-workers if they're doing the same or similar jobs. Find the optimal way to do your tasks in a way that's going to stay consistent with the expectations.

If you have a kind of job, where you have set goals, try to reach those, and if you have a bit of downtime, use it. You can ask for new tasks eventually, but don't rush it, if you have the opportunity, take a breather.

There are workplaces that might try to monitor your work, especially in home office, but as long as things are done, most workplaces do not care how much you napped during your work hours. However, if you're worried about seeming inactive on your laptop for instance, there are workarounds on that too. I have a powershell script that presses the capslock button every minute for 2 hours (for legal reasons, this is only for those times when I'm running a python script through a VPN connection, which standby mode would kill otherwise 😂), but I've had a friend who just opened word and put something on her space button. The human ingenuity when it comes to avoiding work is boundless.

The only consideration here is that you should still try to check your chat from time to time, but that can also depend on your workplace. Most people don't care if you reply them 2 hours late, no one's available 24/7.

That all being said, you might still want to secure your job a bit more other than doing the bare minimum, but the good news is, having all that downtime actually means that you can think about other things too if you choose! Maybe even ways to improve your job as it is. Or maybe just talk with someone at the water cooler. Never underestimate the power of talking to people at the water cooler tbh.

Also consider this: if you're doing your job too well, your reward most likely is going to be.... more work! And it's gonna be unpaid work at that. I know, because I somehow never managed to avoid this one, despite doing my best and napping as much as possible.

In conclusion, Bullshit Jobs™ deserve Bullshit Work. <3

[buggie-hagen]

Sermon for Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost (9/3/23)

Primary Text | Romans 12:9-21

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Dear People of God,

          Today’s passage from Romans 12:9-21 I would summarize as the definition of love. Specifically, the call to Christian love. No other kind of person on earth can we expect such uncompromising love from. This kind of love is never done for the benefit of oneself, but for the benefit of others. The theologian Sarah Hinlicky Wilson once said, “Love, by its very nature, is infinite.” Love loves infinitely without expectation of a return, with love in its infinite form there is no expectation of gratitude or recognition, nor does such a Christian love use love to seek any benefit that might come to itself. Christian love simply gives of itself completely and totally. Without anything left over. The totality of Christian love is what makes it a mighty rare possession on earth. For who wants to give of themselves completely? Without leaving even a bit for oneself? In comparison, love, as it is commonly understood, is transactional. You give in order to get something in return. And if you give a lot at least we hope that there should be some benefit to us for doing it. Some might look at a list like we find in Romans 12 and think “Oh, these are just suggestions.” But alas, these are actually 14 different commands. We’ll examine a couple of them.

          One of the commands is to “Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep” (Rom. 12:15). In other words, feel with others. If you know someone who is happy, who has had a great milestone in their life, be happy with them. Maybe a birthday, an anniversary, they recently graduated, they got the job they were hoping for, they have a new great-grandchild. Celebrate it with them. On the flip side, if you know someone who is sad, be sad with them. Maybe they recently lost a loved one to cancer, they’ve gone through a tough divorce, they had a miscarriage, or they simply are depressed. Feel this with them. Don’t pretend something is not hard when it is hard. It is one way that we can show that they matter, that their feelings are valid, and that they are not alone. To feel with others, whether it be in times of gladness or sadness, shows that emotions are not to be dismissed. We all have them. Doesn’t matter what gender your are. In a culture that likes to think there’s nothing wrong, we need no help from others, you get to cry. Even men get to cry. There is no shame in that. We all need help. To need help is what it means to be human. We were never meant to go it alone without the support of others. It’s not “giving up” to ask the support of your church family or your pastor—especially in your time of need. Rather, God uses your sibling in Christ to build you up, to remind you of Christ’s never-ending promise to you while you are in the middle of the most difficult of times. This is why the crucifixion is important, God does not shy away from the messiness of our lives, he does not wait until we are presentable before he steps into help. He arrives precisely in the muck. If you are unshowered, if you haven’t gotten out of bed until 2pm, if you are incontinent, no matter. God’s unconditional love remains for you. And he seeks to speak to you by the mouth of a fellow sinner.

          Now in this Romans 12 passage we really get to the heart of Christian love. We get strange words like “Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them…if your enemies are hungry, feed them; if they are thirsty, give them something to drink…Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good” (Rom. 12:14-15, 20, 21). Perhaps people were on board with rejoicing with those who rejoice and weeping with those who weep. But God’s call that we must love our enemies and even do them some good is where we lose everyone. Trust me, this sends people reeling. This is the one people refuse, and it is why Christian love is one of the rarest things on earth. Our own hearts are divided. It is one thing to love someone who is good to you, who loves you back. But to bless someone who is my enemy? To not only bless them but to do only good things to them. That’s a hard sell. Your enemy by definition will not return your love. An enemy does not care for you and perhaps will actively harm you. Think of it in terms of driving. I’m betting when we are cut off in traffic we are more likely to want to show a certain finger, to curse such a person, than to say “God, please bless this person who has wronged me.” How we behave in traffic is just scratching the surface of this command to love and do good to our enemies. Some of us, if not all of us, have really experienced wrong by the hands of others. How can we love someone when we truly have been wronged? The reality is we do not have this power. We are more likely than not to curse than to bless, and to feel justified in doing so.

When we bless and we do not curse our enemies, it is to come by the power of the Holy Spirit active in us. This actually applies to any of these fourteen expressions of Christian love cited in Romans 12. Insofar as we have been renewed in baptism, we will do each of these things without even thinking. However, in this world as long as the old creature hangs around our necks, we will be weak and feeble while doing them. We won’t even know for sure that we are. The left hand does not know what the right hand is doing. The faith we have been given, though weak and feeble as it is, cannot help but to love, to feed its enemies, to feel with those in their happiness and their sadness, and to do all those things into infinity. This is called faith active in love. Love is not our own work but the work of God. God himself, of course, does not need your works of love, but your neighbor certainly does—whether your neighbor be a friend or an enemy—oftentimes they are both friend and enemy at once. And remember, we love because God first loved us. He gave his Son Jesus Christ to die on the cross. There nailed with him is all our hate, all our sin, all our guilt, all our shame, all that weighs us down. Therefore, you have complete and total forgiveness of sins. You have a new creature born in you every single day which is liberated to love freely and spontaneously. When God faced the power of human evil, including the evil that resides in you and me, he did not resist but he let it kill him while on the cross—not under compulsion, but freely he let it happen to him. He faced evil and hate with only love and mercy and took it down with him into hell. What’s more, by the power of his word he rose from the dead. God let his love in Jesus Christ have the victory and made his power known by the forgiveness of sins. While we yet were ungodly Christ died for you—while we had no redeeming qualities, in his great love Christ endured all our wrongs in his crucifixion. And yet he was raised from the dead on the third day for your sake. This power now reigns in you whenever you hear this word of the good news in Jesus. And you, dear people, are a little Christ that God has placed in your little corner of the world. The cross-shaped love you have received, is also born in you—and by the Spirit you are enabled to have a cross-shaped love for anyone you come across.

[azucanela]

Hi! i’d like to request a Zuko x Reader oneshot please and it takes place a few years after he’s crowned as the Fire Lord: Zuko is entering suitable age for marriage and yet he has no one that he likes enough to take as his queen, what if Uncle Iroh hired the reader whom is a famous matchmaker that usually arranges the courting & marriage between nobles, but instead of all these ladies that she threw at him he ended up falling for her instead but he’s just so awkward and inexperienced Thank u

INAMORATA | ZUKO X READER

SUMMARY: after a few years of being Fire Lord, Zuko still hasn’t found a companion. so naturally, when Iroh comes upon a matchmaker, he does what he does best and helps Zuko out by hiring her to help him find someone. and inadvertently... iroh ends up playing matchmaker himself. 

WORD COUNT: 12.6k

WARNINGS: mentions of death, death threats, kissing, pining, very mild innuendos, blood, injuries, crying

A/N: this is literally art omg i feel kinda honored to be seeing this ngl and i ended up researching matchmaking and they’re basically therapists that help you find love?? kinda. the profile thing is something that some matchmakers do and idk i have fun analyzing zuko so

in·am·o·ra·ta/iˌnaməˈrädə/

noun

a woman with whom one is in love or has intimate relations.

ATTEMPT ZERO

After years of being the Fire Lord, Zuko had come to realize the job was pretty basic if you thought about it long enough. There were just a few major things to deal with. First, there’s the internal relations, like the civil wars and uprising he deal with at the start of his reign because people disliked his ways. Then there’s the external relations, Zuko worked alongside Aang to repair those, helping the Southern Water Tribe rebuild itself from the ground up, and hosting meetings between the nations, friendly and work related. Those are the more diplomatic aspects of the job, and sadly, even as a ruler who sought to end a war, there was still violence in the world. 

When Aang and the rest of Team Avatar ended the One Hundred Year War, that only exposed a variety of other problems within the world, problems that the team seeked to end. There were people out there who disliked this line of thinking, and similarly wanted it to end, but ending the lives of Team Avatar.

Zuko was used to the death threats, and the assassination attempts. He’d had a security detail in place to ensure he lived to rule his nation, this was especially necessary since he lacked an heir and the only other people eligible for the throne were an old man who ran a tea shop and a psychopathic teenage girl in a mental institution. This is where the social aspect of the job came in, the part that Zuko had never been good at. The Galas and the girls who threw themselves at him, the nobility of all nations that approached him offering their children’s hand in marriage. Zuko was an enigma, a young and powerful bachelor, and now all the nobles with children were lining up for a minute alone with him to try and sell their own kids.

It disgusted him. The way they treated their children like cattle reminded Zuko of his own father, how willing he was to get rid of Zuko since he had a replacement on standby. Though, Zuko sincerely doubted he ever would’ve gotten the throne if Ozai had a choice, even if he hadn’t been banished. 

Alas, even Zuko could recognize the urgency of it, the death threats weren’t letting up, and the assassination attempts were only getting more and more elaborate, leaving Zuko wondering when they’d no longer be attempts. He needed and heir, or at least a wife who could rule alongside him and take over entirely in the event of his death.

The problem was, he didn’t want this.

He was in a unique position, where the person he married would have an immense effect on society, on politics. If it was an Earth Kingdom girl, then maybe the years of violence against their people could be mended sooner, and they could begin working together to combat a variety of issues. If he ends up with a Fire Nation girl, it could be viewed as strengthening the traditional ideals of Fire Nation independence and sovereignty because the Fire Nation is “supreme.”

Dating was political now and he hated it. It wasn’t like Zuko wanted to be alone, it’s just that now everything mattered far more than it used to. Of course, even as a prince it had been the same, but now that he was the Fire Lord, things seemed to be ten times worse. Perhaps it was excessive but Zuko couldn’t help but feel paranoid whenever a new person entered his life, he couldn’t help but assume that they were just using him for some other agenda.

Of course, his friends had tried to assure him this wasn’t always the case, and they’d even made attempts to set him up with girls. All of which had failed. Zuko knew he wasn’t an easy person, much less an easy person to date. As Fire Lord, a lot of his time was taken up by meetings, and diplomatic missions, and not-so-diplomatic missions alongside Team Avatar. That and he was rather awkward when it came down to most social interactions, though he’d improved over time, especially as the ruler of a nation, his speeches were elegant and so was the way he negotiated with other kingdoms. 

And yet he struggled to talk to strangers.

Iroh seemed to be tired of this as well, he’d sent Zuko several letters in regards to his lack of romance, insisting that he was a “handsome young man” that had “lots of potential” and he was “wasting” his prime with so much work. Zuko didn’t consider managing a country as a waste, though he understood where Iroh was coming from, Zuko probably should’ve been spending time with friends, going to clubs. Not saving the world.

Regardless, there wasn’t much he could do about, he didn’t have time for dating, and Zuko wasn’t willing to compromise his morals and beliefs just for an heir in the event that he got brutally murdered. He refused to raise a child just for that purpose. He learnt the hard way that you should only have kids if you intend to cherish them. And the idea of marrying someone just to strengthen his nation felt wrong, though he could see the benefits.

God, he hated being Fire Lord sometimes.

On the other hand, Y/N L/N liked her job. Amongst the nobility of the Earth Kingdom, she was a rather famous woman, Y/N had brought together some of the most powerful couples in the country. A lot of people owed her favors, and the money that came with the job was more than satisfactory. If Y/N had to guess, she was one of the richest people in the kingdom, considering how much people were willing to pay to fine “the one.” Her business had been rather successful since she’d gotten renowned in the inner ring of the city, and now, Y/N was considering expansion, to the Fire Nation. The borders had long since reopened, when the new Fire Lord came into power.

A whole new set of nobles for her to profit from. 

She’d decided to head to a high end tea shop in celebration of her choice to expand her business. Y/N had heard it was only for the best, since the tea shop served the best. One of her clients had insisted that someone of her esteem try the tea there, given that she was the best in her own profession.

So, here she was. It was a nice place, she wouldn’t deny, and Y/N had heard of the shop before. The Jasmine Dragon, run by some old guy who’d appeared in Ba Sing Se just before the war ended with some major talent when it came to brewing tea. The interior was fancy, but not excessive, several people were already seated within. Y/N even recognized one of the couples there, who waved at her enthusiastically, “hello! Lady L/N, how lovely to see you!” One of them called out.

Y/N smiled at them, “how are you two?”

The other beamed at her as she responded, “oh we’re just lovely! Preparing our wedding invitations and one of them has your name on it.” This wasn’t abnormal, most of the couples she’d brought together attributed their love to her. In actuality, Y/N found that if you found two people with compatible personalities, then they’d work things out on their own. All she did was introduce them. 

“I’m excited!” Y/N assured, moving past their table, “now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to try this famous tea. But, I’m looking forward to the invite.” 

The pair nodded, before returning their attention the friends seated across from them, and Y/N made her way to the front of the shop, bag of coins in hand. An older man stood behind the counter, a smile on his face as he brought his attention to her, “what can I get you today Miss...”

“Y/N. Y/N L/N.” She replied, small smile on her face as she looked at the menu, “what’s your name?” Y/N asked, meeting his eyes to see the flicker of recognition within them before returning her gaze to the menu.

He nods slowly, “I’m Iroh, and you’re a matchmaker, no?” He’d recognized the name, her business had begun gaining traction amongst the nobility of the Earth Kingdom shortly after the war, and she was one of the most sought after matchmakers in the nation. Iroh himself had looked into her business, seeing as his nephew was yet to find love in his chaotic lifetstyle. 

Y/N smiled at him as she nodded, “indeed.” She placed the menu down, “any suggestions?”

“Perhaps, Jasmine tea?” He suggested.

Y/N nodded, “sounds good.” She places extends a hand with coins, dropping them into his palm, “so are you looking for love?” Though she was certainly famous for her skills, Y/N tended to work behind the scenes, and she was surprised to find this man recognized her.

A small laughed escaped him at her words as he shook his head, “no. I believe it is a little too late for that.” He was working on her tea beyond the counter, and Y/N began to wonder how he was steaming the tea pot when she noticed there was no stove beside him.

“Don’t say that! You seem like a fine man that anyone woman would want.” Y/N assured, though she now wondered why exactly this man knew who she was in the first place. It was rare for those outside of nobility to know who she was.

Turning around, his hand pressed to the pot that Y/N was positive had to have been burning his hand in some way, “oh, you’re too kind.” He replies, a small smile on his face as he poured a bit into a cup, “I was looking to help my nephew find love actually.” 

“Really, now?” Firebending, that was the only explanation for the way this man was handling the tea. “I was looking to expand my business to the Fire Nation, perhaps I could help him out.” He didn’t hold himself the way most Earth Kingdom citizens did, and coupled with the possible Firebending, he was likely from the Fire Nation.

Iroh raises a brow at this, “what gave me away?” He stirs the tea a few times, before placing it on the counter for her to take. 

Y/N shrugs, “it’s my job to know people well enough that I can find them a match.” Taking a sip of her tea, she smiles, “so this nephew of yours. He wouldn’t happen to nobility, would he?”

He laughs at this, pouring himself a cup of tea as well as he sighs, “actually, he is nobility. In a way.”

Now Y/N did not expect the nobility Iroh spoke of the be the nobility. As in the Fire Lord, the actual ruler of the entire nation, though this would certainly be great for business. Once the world hears of how Y/N found the Fire Lord, someone who had been notably difficult to woo apparently, a match, her business will be set. 

“Isn’t this exciting, guys?” Y/N exclaimed, looking to her assistants, they were both on the younger side, Marcella and Evelyn. She’d brought them along since this would definitely be a valuable learning experience, and Y/N figured she’d need a lot of help if the Fire Lord was as difficult as they made him out to be. That and Y/N didn’t want to leave them alone in the Earth Kingdom, both of them had been orphaned at a young age. Y/N couldn’t help but relate to them, so when she’d come upon her newfound wealth, brought about by her job as a matchmaker, she’d taken the pair under her wing. 

With a bag thrown over her shoulder, Evelyn simply nodded while Marcella exclaimed, “yes! I’ve always wanted to see the Fire Nation. Do you think we could find a client in one of the Water Tribes next?” 

Y/N couldn’t help but smile at the young girl’s excitement, “if this goes well? We’ll be able to find clients anywhere.” She wasn’t wrong, Y/N had never had the opportunity to work with the actual Earth King, the true ruler of the nation. Now she was working with the ruler of a nation she’d never stepped foot in, entirely new customs and traditions to research, a new social structure, new everything.

What a fun challenge.

With a smile on her face, Y/N followed closely behind Iroh, the palace was stunning, she couldn’t deny it. And compared to the crumbling infrastructure of the lower rings of cities like Ba Sing Se, Fire Nation cities were prospering Fire Lord Zuko’s rule. From what she’d heard, things weren’t always this way.

“Y/N and I are going to wait here,” he gestured to the open space before them, dozens of paintings within it, “these two will take you to your rooms.” He explained to the pair of young girls, nodding to the servants beside them, who began to guide the young girls away.

Y/N’s eyes found their way to the paintings, the newest one being of the current Fire Lord, Zuko himself. She wondered how accurate the painting was, and seeing as she would be meeting him soon, Y/N figured she’d find out as she sighed, turning to Iroh, “so how does the original heir to the throne become the owner of an infamous tea shop?” 

Iroh smiles to himself at her words, “age brings wisdom. And tea is a nice substitute for alcohol.” He jokes, though Y/N can see the pain in his eyes, along with admiration as he stares at Zuko’s portrait alongside her.

“Uncle!” A voice exclaimed, joy clear in his voice as he called out. Y/N watched as Iroh spun around, a broad smile on his face as he moved forwards to embrace the person.

He looked better in person, Y/N quickly decided, though the portrait did its job just as well. She wouldn’t deny he was attractive, but she already knew looks weren’t the issue. Iroh had informed her of the situation, Zuko’s constant rejection of any and every single person that approached him, and the stress he experienced because of the politics of it all.

“Nephew, it is good to see you,” Iroh said, releasing him from the hug, “how are you?” Initially he seemed fairly comfortable at the sight of just his Uncle, but as the Fire Lord’s body seemed to stiffen, Y/N realized she’d been spotted.

So, he wasn’t comfortable with strangers, “I’m alright Uncle... who is this?” He asked. There was an edge to his voice as he spoke, sizing Y/N up, not in the way you did for someone you were attracted to, but for an enemy.

Uncomfortable with new people, clear trust issues, and his mind was always alert. She’d have to write these things down and take them into consideration prior to finding him a potential partner. Though it was starting to look like he was completely unaware of her purpose there as she extended her hand out to him, “Y/N L/N. Professional matchmaker.” She explained with a bright smile, though, based off his personality, that would likely ward him off more.

He was polite though, shaking her hand despite his clear suspicions of her, “Zuko.” Y/N couldn’t help but raise a brow at this, he hadn’t mentioned his title in his introduction. Zuko turned to his Uncle, brows furrowing as he said, “you hired a professional matchmaker?”

With a shrug Iroh responded, “we met by chance! So, it must be destiny.”

Zuko gives him a tight lipped smile, nodding slowly before returning his attention to Y/N who stood away from the pair, examining the decor of the palace. It was minimalistic, truly basic if she was honest, despite the clear amount of riches they possessed, it lacked evidence of them. Bringing her eyes back to him, he spoke, “you don’t need to be here. You can receive your pay, but I personally see no purpose for a matchmaker.”

Iroh frowned at his words, “Zuko, you need to give it a chance! Unlike all those ladies who keep throwing themselves at you. Besides, she seems rather good at her job.” His gaze was on his nephew as he sighed, giving Y/N an apologetic look that she simply waved off.

“Oh, it’s fine. It just won’t be for long.” Zuko raised a brow at her words, and Y/N watched his feet shifted, “no need to prepare for a fight, your majesty.” She hummed, rolling her neck, in the corner of her eye she could see shock flash in his own. “You see, as a matchmaker I do several things, including developing a little... profile of my clients. Now we just met but I can already tell you a variety of things about you that’s making your love life rather trivial.” Even before she had to develop the profiles professionally, in the lower rings of Ba Sing Se, being capable of reading others was a necessary skill.

Zuko’s eyes narrowed at her, “and what have you determined, in the very short time we’ve known each other.”

A small laugh escaped her as she extended her arms and cracked her knuckles, “well. You have major trust issues, which is why you are desperately trying to keep me at arms length. That’s one reason why you have yet to find someone.” Turning her attention to the decor of the large room, Y/N closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. “Given the lack of interior design, I would say you’re struggling with social aspects of your job, and you need a partner. One that I can help you find.” 

“See! I told you she’s good at what she does.” Iroh exclaimed, moving forward to clap a hand onto Y/N’s shoulder, much to Zuko’s dismay. 

Y/N gave the older man a small smile before looking back to Zuko, who eyed her wearily, “you keep avoiding the portrait of your father. But you can’t bring yourself to take it down.” She said, and Y/N could practically feel the tension building with each word. “He’s one of the reasons you’ve yet to find a lover-”

“Because he gave me the scar?” 

Y/N paused, brows furrowing at his words, her eyes found his, “I’m sorry, was that a joke?” She asked, and Iroh stared between the two, amused. “You’re actually rather attractive, which is why I know this is a personality thing. Probably tired of the whole fancy court thing they have going on here, which I’m going to need to research...” Y/N pursed her lips, failing to notice the clear shock on Zuko’s face at her comment, and red flushing his cheeks. Waving off her thoughts, she looked back to him, “anyways. My assistants should’ve already cleared out about an hour in your schedule each day for our sessions. I’m going to be asking you some very personal questions. So, be ready!” 

And with that, Y/N waved to the two, bowing rather questionably shortly after, before heading off in the direction she’d seen Marcella and Evelyn go in. Effectively leaving behind a baffled Zuko, and a rather satisfied Iroh, who began to laugh at Zuko’s reaction. “I really like her, quite the character she has.” 

“Yeah, quite the character.” He brought a hand to his temple, “is this really necessary, Uncle?” 

Iroh simply sighed, looking to his nephew, “whether you want to admit it or not, she was right. Ruling a nation is difficult, and ruling it alone is even harder.” A small huff of laughter escaped Iroh, “and she figured that out by your lack of interior design!” 

Exhaling deeply, Zuko reminded himself that this was all part of the job, the job that consumed his entire life. The life that this girl had analyzed in a matter of moments. 

Yeah, he wasn’t looking forward to their meetings.

Though his morals and his disagreement with practically selling your own child were a major factor in his lack of a love life. There was also the simple fact that there was no love in many of the interactions he had with potential suitors, much less genuine interest. They all wanted the power he could give them should they get married.

There was also the fact that Zuko had very little relationship experience, a fact he was trying to ignore. At the end of the day, he couldn’t bring himself to approach anyone, and if he did, he wouldn’t know what to do. Zuko also doubted that people would act... genuine around him, especially if they knew who he was. And all he really wanted was something real, considering his entire day was surrounded by fake smiles that belonged to both him and others.

It seemed that Y/N wasn’t prepared to ignore this piece of information though, since the following morning she’d seated him down and begun to speak of it, “so. You’ve been in two relationships.”

His brows furrowed, “one actually.” He and Mai had broken up about six months into his work as Fire Lord, “Mai.”

Raising a brow at him, she leaned back in the seat. Zuko couldn’t help but wonder how she managed to decorate the place in such a short period of time, as he could’ve sworn there hadn’t been a desk here the previous day. Then again, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d toured his own palace. “Well, I’ve heard rumors of you and a Southern Water Tribe member, but I’m not sure which one so I just-”

“Okay! That’s enough.” His cheeks were flushed red as he looked away.

Y/N grinned at him, leaning forwards, “then let’s discuss Mai. You two were pretty on and off, right?” 

Zuko grimaced at the thought, they were. He wouldn’t deny that he’d gone back to her a few times during his time as Fire Lord, “yeah.” 

Y/N began to write into her notebook, “tell me about her.”

“I don’t see why that’s important.” Came his response, looking at her quizzically as he frowned.

Tilting her head at him, Y/N gave Zuko a look, “come on. Let me do my job, I need to know about her to gauge what types of personalities you like while also determining why the two of you broke it off entirely.” She placed the book down, and Zuko could very clearly see the words ‘commitment issues’ underlined. “The goal isn’t just to find you a suitable wife that can help you rule, but someone you can be happy with.”

He’s silent for a moment, eyes on Y/N, her words seem honest. And this was her job, “she was blunt. Honest. Kind of mean at times, but she could be sweet as well. Pretty stoic, expressing her emotions was always... difficult for her.” 

Y/N nodded slowly, scribbling a few more things down, “okay. And what’s your favorite color?” 

“What type of question is that?” Zuko asked, brows furrowing in confusion. 

Crossing her arms, Y/N shrugged, “well. Favorite colors can tell you a lot about a person.” Came her response, “mine is green. Maybe that’s because I associate green with the Earth Kingdom, where I lived. Or maybe it’s because I happen to like nature quite a bit.” Looking around, Zuko could see that she’d already gotten a variety of plants native to the Fire Nation, most were succulents due to the almost year round heat.

At the mention of colors, his mind immediately went back to his first experience with the dragons, when their fire encircled him and Aang. “I.. don’t know how to describe the color- colors?” Zuko’s brows drew together in thought, and Y/N looked at him.

“How would I not understand a color?” The confusion is clear in her voice as she looks at him. Y/N can practically see the nostalgia in his eyes as he looks to the balcony.

Sighing, Zuko shifted in his seat, “these dragons I met ended up making a circle of fire around me and there were just... so many colors. But together it was just,” he paused, searching for the right word, “beautiful.”

Y/N’s mouth gaped open for a moment, “you met dragons?” She exclaimed, nearly throwing her notebook aside. Y/N had never seen such creatures, in fact, the general consensus was that they were still extinct

Zuko seemed to forget about this fact as he straightened himself, eyes meeting hers, “you can’t tell anyone about them!” He exclaimed, “they were hunted to extinction, though I intend to outlaw such things it’s just...” 

She nodded in understanding, “people break laws.” Y/N leaned back into her seat once more, “you owe me a dragon story.” She said, before crossing her legs in her seat and continuing, “favorite food?”

“Well, Aang took me to Avatar Day, and they had these weird Avatar shaped dough things.” He explained, recalling the time he’d gone with Aang and the others. Apparently they used to burn his statue, but now they worship him for some reason.

Y/N brought a hand under her chin, “I have no idea what that is.” She began to scribble something down on her notepad, “but okay.”

“What about you?”

Y/N hummed in response, “what do you mean?” 

Zuko felt his cheeks warm, “this just feels like an interview.”

“Probably because it is an interview.” Y/N said, gesturing for him to elaborate.

Looking away, Zuko frowned, “it’s weird.” Sighing, he spoke once more, “so, what’s your favorite food?” 

Y/N was silent for a moment, staring at Zuko, who was trying his hardest to avoid her gaze. This was a rare occurrence, seeing as most nobles were rather self-centered and liked talking about themselves. She’d never had a client who felt uncomfortable with this portion because it was basically a one-sided conversation. “Jennamite is a good rock candy.”

Zuko turns back to her, a small laugh escaping him, “my friends were nearly killed in Jennamite by the King of Omashu once.” 

“I’m sorry, what?”

ATTEMPT ONE

Y/N wouldn’t deny how odd it was, to be sharing as much information as she was learning about Zuko. She’d never really considered just how personal some of the questions were until she found herself answering them. But, after about a month, she had assembled a pretty good array of potential suitors for Zuko. Along with a few of her own clients, Y/N had found some girls that from the Fire Nation that seemed pretty acceptable.

That’s what she had thought at least.

“What do you mean, you already rejected her?” 

Turns out, Zuko had met half the women, and rejected them. The other half were either from the Earth Kingdom, or yet to attend one of few Galas that Zuko hosted. Seeing as he handed off most of that work to his advisors, it was rare for him to remain at Galas for an extended period of time. 

He grimaced at Y/N’s words nonetheless, his Uncle had informed her of his situation, but clearly not the extent of it. “She was more interested in her guard than me. It was a power grab her parents likely forced her into.” He remembered the girl, she’d been kind to him, but she clearly didn’t want him as much as her parents did.

His words brought about a new level of understanding for Y/N, who nodded slowly, of course it was the parents that Zuko had a problem with. It wasn’t uncommon for nobles to practically throw their children at potential suitors as though they’re a bag of coins. It was something that disgusted her as well, her job found people companions that they liked while these people simply wished for an addition to their power.

Zuko was the ultimate power grab. Y/N could only imagine how many times this had happened to him, random people he’d never met approaching him, offering their child’s hand in marriage. 

Bringing a hand to her temple, Y/N sighed, “but the rest are fine?” 

He nodded slowly, flipping through the pages he had yet to remove, Zuko skimmed what Y/N had written. Taking note of her handwriting, he wondered if she’d written his profile like this. “Yeah...” Y/N narrowed her eyes at him, and Zuko sighed, removing a few more pages from the binder she’d presented him with. 

Exhaling deeply, Y/N brought a hand to Zuko’s shoulder, “be honest with me. I’m not gonna yell at you for removing them Zuko, this is for you.”

Sometimes he forgot it was her job to be nice to him. 

“Right.” He mumbled, trying to shake off the feeling he got as she removed her hand. “That’s still... a lot of people. Some of which aren’t even in this nation.” Zuko pointed out, a queasy feeling within him as he looked at her.

Y/N plopped down onto the couch in the common room they’d met in, sprawling her body across it, “you’re right, there is a lot. But,” She twisted her body so that she could see him, wiggling her brows suggestively, “it’s been a while since you hosted a Gala.” 

Zuko’s face dropped at her words, in his years of being Fire Lord, he’d had about three total, and hated every single one. But given how rare the Galas were, people got pretty excited when he threw them. “I hate planning those, it’s a waste of time and-” 

A small smile was on her face as she interrupted him, “and you suck at planning them? I can tell by the decor of your palace.” Glaring at her, Zuko watched as she shifted so that her head hung off the couch upside down, “well. This will be the best Gala yet, you’ll impress all the ladies that you can’t meet in the immediate future in about...” Y/N looked to the watch on her wrist, brows furrowing, “eight months. And I’ll help you plan it, since you desperately need help-”

“Alright, I get it, I’m horrible.” He grumbled, crossing his arms as he leaned back against his seat across from her after placing the binder on the coffee table between them. ���Eight months isn’t a lot of time,” traditionally, Gala’s took at least a year’s worth of planning and preparation, especially since Zuko was so busy he barely had the time to assist in the process. Eight months was no where near enough.

Y/N was still frowning at his words, “no self-deprecation.” She ordered, taking Zuko by surprise, before continuing, “regardless. I’ve planned Gala in less time with less resources. It’ll be fine.” Pursing her lips Y/N sighed, “now we need to discuss your inability to talk to people in general due to your immense trust issues and constant battle field mentality.” 

Zuko’s mouth gaped open at her words, “excuse me?”

Bringing her hands to rest on her stomach as she laid upside down, Y/N spoke, “when we first met you looked like you contemplated attacking me. And when you met Marcella and Evelyn, I’ve never seen someone so awkward.” Zuko is silent and looks away, only proving her point as Y/N continued, “so we need to practice your people skills, and flirting for future reference, seeing as your first date is in about a week-”

Almost immediately, Zuko straightened his posture, sitting up and looking to her as though she’d thrown a bucket of ice cold water onto him. “A week?” He winced at the way his voice cracked.

“Yeah, I spoke with one of the girls, not her parents, and asked her to meet with you later in the week.” Y/N explained, “her name is Elara, she’s in there.”

Frowning, Zuko reached for the binder and began to flip through the pages, “how’d you know I wasn’t going to get rid of her page?” Only to find the girl’s page, details on her personality, skills, hobbies and more on them.

A smirk spread across Y/N’s face, “she was one of few I was sure you’d keep.” With a sigh, Zuko looked back to Y/N, who still sat upside down, “now. You need to practice your romance skills, so come on.” She twisted her body, her legs falling to the side of the couch, and then moving onto the floor, Y/N stood. As the blood rushed to her head, a wave of dizziness came over her, and Y/N found herself stumbling slightly.

A hand came to her back and forearm, steadying her, “you need to practice walking.” Zuko laughed slightly, a nervous edge in his voice as he eyed her. 

Y/N brought a hand to her head as she laughed as well, “oh my...” Y/N blinked several times as the wave of dizziness passed, her hand gripping Zuko’s arm as she grounded herself. Looking up to him, she quickly realized how close they were and cleared her throat, releasing his arm.

He followed suit, removing his hands from her, “sorry-”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Zuko.” 

The look her gives her almost hurts. Because Y/N can see the shock within his eyes as he nods slowly in response. She wonders what he’s thinking of as he she gives him a tight lipped smile, clapping her hands together as she turns back to him, “practice.” She repeated, mostly for herself.

And maybe offering to be the person he practiced on was her first mistake. 

ATTEMPT FIVE

Y/N had learnt a lot about Zuko in the past four dates he’d been on. One of these things being the fact that Zuko was a wild card when it came to dates, and they seemed to either go very well with the girls contacting Y/N to let her know they wished for a second date, only for Zuko to reject the possibility. Or, they went very bad. And Zuko returned with some sort of drink splattered onto his clothing.

So, Y/N decided that the best course of action was to discover what exactly Zuko wasn’t mentioning, and to follow him with a disguise. Evelyn had suggested it, Iroh supported the idea full-heartedly, though Marcella had believed it would be a huge invasion of privacy, Y/N didn’t really care, seeing as it was her job to be involved in Zuko’s love life. She was getting paid to ensure he found love. 

And she was curious.

That’s how Y/N ended up dressed in some very suspicious Fire Nation clothing alongside her assistants and the apparent Dragon of the West, famous tea shop owner, and member of the royal family. 

What a wonderful assortment of people.

Marcella and Evelyn had separated from Iroh and Y/N, sitting in another booth across from them, it was a feeble attempt to keep them from sticking out. The girl had chosen a rather upscale restaurant, so dressing appropriately while also maintaining a look that prevented Zuko from recognizing them. 

Y/N pulled her hat further down on her face as she looked to Iroh, who was browsing the menu. She wouldn’t be shocked if he entered the kitchen just to make himself a ‘decent’ cup of tea. He’d been rather helpful during the whole process, anything she didn’t find out from Zuko, Y/N had learnt from Iroh. “See anything you like, Iroh?”

He smiled at her, nodding slowly, “I think I’ll just take some tea.” 

Looking to Marcella and Evelyn, Y/N smiles, the two are speaking with one another like they aren’t supposed to be spying on the Fire Lord. But Y/N doesn’t mind, this was more of a recreational activity anyways, and she was glad they were having fun. Since they’d gotten to the Fire Nation two months ago there had been an... adjustment period to put it simply.

Y/N nodded at Iroh’s statement, and her eyes fell back onto Zuko and his newest date, Amaya, she was a simple girl. She’d possessed organizational skills that Zuko lacked, planned dozens of events, had the expressive qualities that Zuko yearned for in a partner. Amaya was one of few that Y/N was sure Zuko would take a liking to. Especially since she also had training in a variety of fighting styles, and was quite the Firebender. She’d been a little skeptical when she first contacted Amaya, the girl seemed hesitant, but she agreed.

And from the looks of it, he had. The pair was laughing along with each other, but Y/N could see the way Zuko stiffened at any physical contact, in general he’d yet to relax. If Y/N was honest, it was basically like any first date, awkward.

Zuko didn’t really know how to feel about Amaya, she was what he should be looking for in a girl, everything he needed if he was honest. She had an interest in the art, something Zuko had never taken to and the main reason his palace looked, ‘dull’ as Y/N had put it. And she was expressive, the main issue he’d had with Mai was her lack of expression. But, for some reason, Zuko just couldn’t see her as anything more than a good friend. There was something... off about her.

“When that Earth Kingdom girl approached me, I was skeptical.” Amaya explained, taking a sip from her glass, “you know how most Earth Kingdom folk are...” She gave him a look as Zuko listened in confusion. “The Fire Nation citizens simply have more class.” Amaya settled for with a shrug.

Oh.

Zuko laughed nervously, “I’m not sure I understand. I find Earth Kingdom citizens pretty pleasant actually, and Y/N, the one you met, she’s actually very resourceful and kind.” His mind went to Toph as well, who had invented an entirely new type of bending. She was an impressive young woman from the Earth Kingdom, and Y/N was as well, she’d started her own business at a young age and turned it into something incredible.

“Really? She didn’t seem too smart when I met her, but who can say no to a meeting with the Fire Lord?” 

Zuko was pretty sure her words were meant to be taken as a joke. But Amaya wasn’t the first person Zuko had encountered with this mindset, she was just more subtle about it. The supremacy of the Fire Nation was still an idea that ran rampant in some people’s minds, though Zuko had dealt with most disputes regarding his peaceful relations with other nations. Many still missed the time when the Fire Nation practically owned the world, where Fire Nation citizens could treat the people who had their homes taken from them however they pleased.

It was a dark time in his nation’s history, nonetheless, several people missed it. This was something rather prevalent amongst Nobles though, they were the ones who lost an immense amount of land when the war had ended. Many of them were bitter about what had happened. 

If Zuko was honest, she’d probably had these ideas drilled into her since birth, and simply hadn’t grown out of them, which was a shame. But as the ruler of a nation, he couldn’t rule beside someone who looked down on others simply because they weren’t from the Fire Nation.

Zuko shook his head, “Y/N built her business from the ground up. And now she’s helping the Fire Lord get dates.” He knows he sounds defensive, as though he’s prepared to fight her, something his Uncle would likely scold him for, but he doesn’t care at the moment.

“All she does is set you up with people.” 

Zuko’s brows furrowed at this comment, and he raised a hand to get the attention of the waiter, “excuse me, could I get the check please?” The young man nodded, heading off to get the check, and Amaya looked at him incredulously. 

Y/N had done far more than set him up with people, she’d helped him begin planning a Gala, she’d tried her best to find a good assortment of people that would fit both Zuko’s needs and the Fire Nation’s, and that list was probably very difficult to narrow down. Zuko had seen the work she put in for formulating profiles of the potential suitors, and throughout all of it she had done nothing but support him. 

“What are you doing?” Amaya asked, shifting in her seat as she stared at Zuko quizzically.

The waiter came over and handed Zuko the check, and Zuko placed a pouch of money on the table, “thanks. Keep the change.” He explained, nodding to the boy, who’s mouth gaped open in surprise as he took the pouch of money, bowing to Zuko repetitively, though Zuko wasn’t paying much attention to him as he spoke to Amaya. “I don’t think this is going to work out, I’m sorry.”

Amaya is still seated in shock as Zuko rises from his table, and Y/N can’t help it when her mouth gapes open at the sight of him simply abandoning his date. She makes eye contact with Iroh, who raises a brow, and they both sit up. She moves to follow Zuko, only to bump into someone. 

“I’m so sorry!” Y/N exclaims, moving down to help them pick up their hat, that had fallen when they collided.

“No, that was my fault entirely!” He responds, shaking his head as they both leaned town to pick it up.

“Aang, come on! He’s leaving.” The woman behind him exclaims.

Y/N’s brows furrow in recognition as she looks up to see a blue arrow tattooed on the man’s head, and her eyes widen in realization. Zuko had described Aang several times during their conversations, he and the rest of his friends came up often. But Y/N did not expect the first time she met the Avatar and his friends to be when they were both following Zuko on his date.

ATTEMPT FOURTEEN

Y/N simply sighs as she opens her door to see Zuko, in the outfit she’d helped him pick out. “What was it this time?” He’d been on thirteen dates thus far, and Y/N was slowly realizing that Zuko was likely one of her most difficult clients. This was purely because he’d yet to get a second date, though there had been offers, Zuko had declined all of them. 

“She was just-” His hands gestured rather broadly, he was practically throwing them into the air, “she was so rude to the waiter.” This had always been a dealbreaker for him, since he’d worked as a waiter in two different tea shops, Zuko had come to understand the importance of treating a waiter with kindness and how difficult the work could be. 

His eyes dart between Y/N and her door, she’s rubbing her eyes due to the exhaustion and Zuko can’t help the guilt that floods him. Nonetheless, she opens the door wider, heading inside her room and signaling for him to close it as she falls back onto her bed. “You were a waiter once, yeah?” He’d told her a fair share about his life in the Earth Kingdom, she’d inquired quite a bit about that part of his life. 

He asked about her life in the Earth Kingdom too, and she’d told him how poor life could be the in the outer rings, something he’d experienced for himself. Zuko listened as she describe living after her parents had died, working for a matchmaker only to discover she was actually good at the job, making a name for herself in the outer rings and then making her way inwards until she was one of the most sought after matchmakers in the kingdom. Y/N spoke of how she’d met Marcella and Evelyn, and how she’d taken them in when she’d discovered they were both orphans, living on the streets as pickpockets.

Zuko wouldn’t help but laugh at this, he could imagine Evelyn as a pickpocket, but Marcella? She was a sweet girl, he couldn’t imagine her in a life of crime. Of course, desperation made people do questionable things. Zuko knew that much from experience. 

“Yeah, I was.” Came his response, taking a seat in the chair by her desk. 

Y/N sat up in her bed, bracing herself with her elbows as she raised a brow at him, “what are you doing?”

Zuko frowned, shifting in the chair, “sitting...?” He moved to get up but Y/N waved him off.

“Just lay with me, idiot.” She allowed her head to fall back onto the bed, patting the spot beside her. Clearly, her suggestion wasn’t bothering her, but Zuko felt his face flush at the possibility.

If he’s honest, he’s not even trying anymore when it comes to dates and women and love. There were three reasons for this, one of which was the fact that he simply wasn’t connecting with any of the women he had met thus far. Sure they were nice, and they probably would be his type has it not been for reason two. The fact that Zuko had realized he had feelings for Y/N, what feelings? He wasn’t sure, but they sure as hell weren’t platonic, if they were he would not be blushing this much. He wouldn’t get that weird feeling in his stomach whenever he spoke to her.

Then there was was reason three, if Zuko succeeded in finding love, then Y/N would leave. It was selfish, but he already knew he wouldn’t find anyone considering he pretty sure he loved someone else already. So now, Zuko was basically procrastinating letting Y/N know that this just wasn’t going to work out, mostly because he didn’t have a plan.

He was debating just firing her, but that likely wouldn’t go over well, and he wanted to see her business succeed. If you get fired by the Fire Lord, that just looks bad. Now Zuko wondered what the best way to go about this was, since there was no point in working for him, even if she was getting paid. He was a waste of time. 

He couldn’t help the smile graced his lips as his own thoughts reminded him of the time she’d scolded him, telling him to quit being self-deprecating. 

Zuko sat up from the chair, making his way over to her bed, Zuko found himself simply plopping down onto it face first, earning a laugh from Y/N.

He rolled over onto his back, turning to look at Y/N, only to find her eyes were already on him, bringing a blush to his cheeks as he mumbled, “what?”

“I’m just trying to figure out why you haven’t gotten a second date yet.” Came her response, propping herself up on her forearm. “You have a nice personality, you’re attractive, I’m sure at least one of the girls caught your eye.” Y/N sighed, running a hand through her hair as she began to wonder if she’d incidentally allowed her own feelings to get in the way of her work. Maybe that’s why this was going so badly.

This was a problem. 

Zuko simply shook his head, his face on fire as he listened to her words, though he couldn’t help the hand he brought to the scar on his face. Y/N had pointed out before that he was allowing his Father to control his actions even now that he was imprisoned, and Zuko was beginning to see what she meant. 

Removing his hand from his face, Zuko sighed. Though he didn’t have much time to dwell on his thoughts as her hand hesitantly came to his face, placing a hand on his cheek and allowing her thumb to brush against the scar. Zuko jumped at the sudden contact, and Y/N moved to withdraw her hand almost instantly, but Zuko’s hand came to hers and held it there. Looking to her, he couldn’t read the look in her eyes as she gazed at him, and suddenly he wished he was as good at reading people as she was. 

“No self-deprecating thoughts.” Y/N mumbled, “bad Zuko.” She removed her hand from his to flick his head, causing his brows to furrow.

He pouted, and Y/N let out a laugh as he spoke, “how come you haven’t found someone?” Zuko looked to her, “you’re beautiful, and smart, and just... perfect.” He didn’t notice when her cheeks warmed, “you’re a literal matchmaker, surely you’ve considered who your perfect person is.” 

Y/N fell onto her back, running her hands over her face as she shook her head, “how have you not gotten a second date?” A sigh escaped her, “I haven’t had time for love before, and I just haven’t found that,” looking to him, she pursed her lips, “perfect person.” Growing up in the lower rings, she didn’t have time for an actual relationship, and her business as a matchmaker grew incredibly quickly. At the end of the day, long term just didn’t work out, Y/N barely had for herself, much less another person.

“I guess we both suck at love.” Zuko said, his tone was serious and Y/N couldn’t help but burst out into laughter as she swatted at his chest.

Too bad they couldn’t suck at love together. 

ATTEMPT SEVENTEEN THROUGH TWENTY EIGHT

Smoothing over her green dress, a sign of her citizenship in the Earth Kingdom, Y/N moved to answer the knock on her bedroom door. Given how long she’d been in the Fire Nation, Y/N wondered if the Earth Kingdom would still feel like home when she returned. The idea of going back felt odd, and though that time likely wasn’t soon unless Zuko met the love of his life tonight, it was inevitable.

And it horrified her. 

Holding the edge of the dress slightly to make it easier to walk, Y/N sighed and opened the door, seeing Zuko. A small smile on her face as she eyed his Fire Nation robes, “you look nice.” She complimented, tilting her head at him as she allowed her eyes to travel over his figure.

Zuko nodded, a blush coming over her cheeks, his mouth gaping open as he looked at Y/N. “You look beautiful.” She did, the dress looked amazing on her, her hair styled just right, and bracelets adorning her wrists.

“Thank you, Fire Lord Zuko.” His nose crinkled at the use of his title, coming from her it felt even weirder, wrong almost. But she continued, “mind helping me out?” She asked, moving back to her desk and taking a necklace in hand. Y/N had been struggling to put it on for the past few minutes, and now she had someone to do it for her.

He nodded, closing the door behind him, he took the necklace from her hand, and when Y/N ensured her hair was out of his way, Zuko brought the necklace around her neck. He secured the clasp, hands lingering as he adjusted it to the center of her neck. Zuko couldn’t help but notice a small scar on her shoulder, hand brushing over it.

Y/N looked over her shoulder and to him, brow raised, “how’d you get this?” He asked, brows drawn together. His hand traced the raised skin gently, Y/n could feel her cheeks warming at his touch, inhaling deeply. 

She grimaced, “a knife fight I almost lost my life to.” Was her explanation. Y/N didn’t like to think back to the days when she’d resorted to several... questionable actions to stay alive. But she pushed those thoughts away as she turned to face him. “You ready?” Y/N asked, they had to get to the Gala soon, considering the fact that Zuko was the host, Y/N was shocked he’d even stopped by her room in the first place.

Zuko was silent, simply nodding as he extended his arm for her to take. And Y/N did, looping her arm around his as she smiled, “you are gonna woo so many Earth Kingdom women tonight!” Y/N exclaimed, more confidence in her voice than Zuko had.

Shame the only Earth Kingdom girl he wanted to ‘woo’ was her.

When they’d arrived at the Gala, descending the stairs together, they were greeted with the claps of the other guests. Zuko would feel the anxiety flood him, but he paid it no mind. Though Y/N could feel the way he stiffened as he ended his speech to the diplomats of all nations, “let this be a peaceful, and joyous night!” 

They all burst out into cheers before the party continued, the music starting once more, and everyone returning to feasting upon the buffet, dancing along the ballroom floor or speaking with one another. All while Y/N led Zuko down the stairs, dragging him by the hand, “come on. Enjoy your own party, meet some girls.” She winked, and Zuko swore his face heated up even more than it already had. 

Y/N wasn’t a fool, she knew that if she’d stuck by his side the entire night, she would serve as a repellant of any potential suitors. So naturally, much to Zuko and Y/N’s dismay, she removed herself from him, playfully shoving him towards a group of Earth Kingdom girls she’d mentioned earlier. Though there were several other clusters in the ballroom.

Zuko simply sighed, giving Y/N a small smile before making his way to the group of girls. If he was honest, he would rather be spending the Gala by her side, but he had to put in some effort. He owed Y/N that much. Besides, this was an entirely new group of girls, maybe he would find someone tonight. 

“Hi there.” Zuko greeted, waving awkwardly at the girls. 

This action earned him a few laughs, and he was unsure if they actually found it funny or felt the need to laugh since he was the Fire Lord. Shortly after they began introducing themselves, speaking like there was no tomorrow. 

If Zuko was honest, the number of women here was overwhelming. So, as he excused himself from the conversation, much to their chagrin, he placed his cup down on the platter of one of many waiters. Making his way outside, Zuko couldn’t help but feel relieved at the fresh air that hit him on the balcony. Though he contemplated heading back inside when he noticed another girl was already there, eyes shut as she faced the sky, she turned to see him, eyes widening a fraction. “I’m sorry, I can go-”

“No!” She exclaimed, cheeks flushing in embarrassment due to her outburst, “no... it’s fine.” She turned back to look at the sky, hand clasped together, fidgeting.

Zuko stepped forward, finding himself situated across from her, leaning against the railing, “so why are you out here?”

A small laugh escaped the girl, and she ran a hand through her hair, “it’s rather stress relieving. You have a lovely view in your palace.” 

He couldn’t help but feel disappointed when he realized she recognized him, though Zuko nodded along, “what’s your name? If you don’t mind me asking?” It was a stupid question, and Zuko nearly facepalmed as he pursed his lips.

“Aileen.” Came her response, and Zuko realized he recognized her name as well. She was the child of one of the more well known members of Fire Nation nobility, her parents had approached him in the past in hopes of arranging a marriage between the two of them. He had declined almost immediately. And now that Aileen turned to him, he had a feeling he made the right decision, “you’re Zuko, right?” 

He exhaled deeply, nodding, “that’s me.” Sometimes, Zuko wondered what his life would’ve been like if he wasn’t Zuko, perhaps things would’ve been simpler. No, things definitely would’ve been simpler. There would be no diplomatic meetings, no wars, no idiots trying to hurt other people, no more assassination attempts, no more fake smiles and no more Galas. Of course, if he wasn’t Zuko, he never would’ve met Y/N.

“I heard you’re looking for a partner in crime.” Aileen prompted, “why aren’t you in there finding that future love of your life?” 

Shrugging, Zuko looked up at the sky, “I found her. She just doesn’t want me.”

He can feel Aileen stare at him, she’s silent for a moment, and Zuko wonders what she’s thinking. Though he doesn’t need to wait long to find out as she responds, “I understand.” Aileen focuses her gaze on the glass she’d placed on the thick railing of the balcony, “the person I love probably doesn’t love me back. And even if they did, my parents disapprove.”

“Did you ask?” He felt hypocritical, Zuko himself had never spoken with Y/N in regards to his feelings, and he likely never would, but he wanted to know. “If they love you?”

Aileen laughs slightly, shaking her head, “I couldn’t bring myself to. I’m scared.” She replied, looking back to him curiously, “did you?”

“No.” He responded lamely, tapping his fingers against the railing with a sigh.

Aileen laughed at this, “I guess we are both cowards then.” She pursed her lips, “I didn’t ask because I was scared, why didn’t you?”

And then the words come spilling out, “whoever I end up with will greatly impact the whole world, whether I want to acknowledge it or not. And she doesn’t deserve that burden, nobody does.” He laughs bitterly as he continues, “she’s also the person that was hired to help me find love in the first place.” Zuko pauses, looking away from Aileen, “and I guess I’m scared too.”

“Ironic.” Aileen mumbles, bringing her eyes back to the sky, “let’s make a deal, Your Majesty.” 

Zuko cringes at the use of that title, almost asking her to simply refer to him by his name, though he simply responds, “what deal?”

“We both confess. And if it goes horribly wrong, we can get married.” 

Y/N can’t see the shock on Zuko’s face, but she can see how comfortable he feels with this girl, Y/N hadn’t seen her before, but she was just happy Zuko was connecting with someone. Except she also wasn’t, a bitter feeling enveloping her as she turned away, looking for something else to focus her attention on, something that didn’t hurt. 

She turned to see Marcella and Evelyn in the distance, speaking with each other. Y/N supposed if she wouldn’t be finding love tonight, then at least they would. She was no fool, she saw the way they looked at each other, the glances when the other wasn’t looking. Maybe it was dumb, but Y/N found herself feeling jealous as she moved over to the buffet with a sigh. Food solved everything in her experience, after a client had a particularly bad day, food made things better.

“Perhaps some tea?” Iroh stood beside her, a kettle in his hand, he had insisted he serve tea at the Gala, though Zuko had assured him it would be just as easy to find someone else to do the job.

Y/N smiled at him, nodding as she took a cup from the array of them within the buffet, allowing Iroh to pour her some tea. “Thank you, Iroh.” Her voice is quieter than normal, and it’s clear that Iroh can tell something is wrong.

“You know, you deserve to be happy to Y/N.” His words catch her by surprise, though she doesn’t have much time to consider their meaning before flames lighting the room begin to move erratically, causing her brows to furrow.

Something was wrong. 

Iroh nods to her, placing the tea kettle down as his brow furrow and she nods back, Iroh disappearing into the crowd of people. Y/N’s eyes fall back to Marcella and Evelyn, and she quickly moves to their side of the room, ignoring the hush that had fallen over the room, panicked gasps amongst them. Her hands fall onto both girl’s arms as she nods to them, “Y/N, whats going-”

Y/N is already dragging them in the direction of the exit, “get out of here, find the guards. I’m going to find Zuko.” The girls didn’t have much time to argue, as Y/N was already working her way through the panicked crowd, back to the balcony where she’d last seen Zuko. But, people were already pushing against her movements, making it difficult. Raising her head above the crowd in an attempt to see what’s going on, Y/N realizes whats happening. 

Firebenders were trying to force them together, and Y/N couldn’t help but panic as she wondered if Marcella and Evelyn managed to escape and find the guards. 

This was an ambush.

No, this was an assassination attempt. Zuko already knew as he watched the atmosphere of the party begin to shift, that and the person who stood before him in all black, brandishing several weapons. Alongside four others who stood by her side. 

“You know, it wasn’t until I met you that I realized how bad it had gotten.” Aileen stood beside Zuko, eyes meeting his in horror as they exchanged looks. Zuko simply hoped the nod he gave her provided some semblance of comfort as he returned his attention to the person before him. “I mean, defending some lowly Earth Kingdom matchmaker? What type of career even is that?” 

Her voice is almost maniacal, and Zuko can’t help but wince as he feels reminded of his sister. But he recognizes it nonetheless, Amaya. It had been months since he’d seen her, but he could still remember her voice. Her face was covered by a mask, and she wielded a sword, and if Zuko remembered correctly, she had been trained in dozens of fighting styles and was a talented bender herself. Alongside the four other men, Zuko couldn’t help but panic internally as he spoke, “Amaya, why don’t you put the swords down, and we talk about this.”

She laughs in response, ripping the mask that covered her face off and throwing it aside, “people have tried to talk to you about this. Your-” She grappled for the word, a hand yanking at her hair as she gestured to him with a sword, “your radical ideas!” 

Zuko didn’t find having morals radical, but he wasn’t going to say that, not while Aileen’s life was on the line. Zuko suddenly realized why having an heir was important as he shook his head, “Amaya, look. Why don’t you let Aileen here leave, and then you and I can talk.” 

Aileen looks like she’s going to protest, but Amaya glances at her red robes, a sign of her Fire Nation citizenship, and gestures for her to leave. “Get out. My problem isn’t with you.” 

When Aileen doesn’t move, Amaya quickly grows frustrated, calling out to one of the guards she’d brought along that lied inside, “take this fool away.” 

There’s no response, and Zuko can see panic flood Amaya’s face. And looking behind her, he quickly realizes that most of the guards have been subdued, Y/N holding one of them in her arms as she knocks them to the ground. Moving towards the balcony stealthily as Amaya’s hands begin to shake, fire sparking in her palms as she focused her attention onto Zuko. “You’re going to pay for what you’ve done to our nation.” 

But Zuko wasn’t looking at her as he shook his head, hoping Y/N would understand. There was no way she could overpower Amaya, not with her bending. Y/N didn’t even have a weapon.

Now, Y/N knew for a fact that no matter how talented Zuko was, he wouldn’t put the girl beside him in danger. His priority would be keeping her alive, and given the training Amaya had as a noble, in both Firebending and fighting, she might even be as good as Zuko in a fight.

Meaning she had to be taken out of the fight.

Everything happened pretty fast after that. Zuko was shielding body coming forward to shield Aileens as he extended his freehand to Firebend at the people who’d surrounded them, only for Amaya to move out of the way. The girl was practically screaming bloody murder as she lunged at him, now wielding her sword. 

Zuko didn’t have to figure out what to do next because Y/N moved faster than Amaya did, tackling the girl over the railing and down below as he began to scream. 

THE FINAL ATTEMPT

Zuko’s knee is bouncing rapidly as he sits beside Iroh, who knits a scarf of some sort despite the blistering heat of the Fire Nation. He’s insisted that when Y/N returned to the Earth Kingdom she’d need it, and Zuko didn’t have the heart to disagree. Iroh had started stress-knitting about four hours ago, when Y/N had entered the room they all sat before, anxiously awaiting news of her condition.

Marcella and Evelyn are to Zuko’s left, Marcella’s sobs had quieted down, but Zuko wouldn’t be shocked if he looked over and saw tears silently streaming down her face. The girl hadn’t taken it well. Evelyn remained composed, doing her best to comfort Marcella, but the wait was clearly getting to her as well as she fidgeted with Marcella’s hands.

Seeing as Y/N had fallen from several stories up off the balcony and into the water below, Zuko didn’t really think it was possible to take the news well. But he was trying. 

A pang sounded from inside the room, and Zuko practically shot up onto his feet, moving to knock on the door to discover was was wrong, only for Iroh to grab his wrist, shaking his head. Zuko exhaled deeply, beginning to pace across the hall. He found himself wishing that Katara hadn’t been busy with Water Tribe business, she was an excellent healer. Alas, Katara wasn’t there, and Zuko had to settle for one of the skilled Water Tribe diplomats instead, alongside a few others skilled in medicine. 

As he paced, Zuko could feel Evelyn’s eyes on him, and it became clear she was itching to speak and he sighed, “what’s wrong?” There were dozens of answers to this question, the main one being the fact that Y/N could die today, so he hoped she understood what he meant.

The girl is glaring at him, and Zuko can’t help but feel uneasy. Because maybe she blames him for this as much as he blames himself, and maybe she’s going to tell him off, blame him for everything. Because if Y/N dies, she and Marcella will have no one again. 

Not that Zuko would allow that. He’d grown attached to the girls as well, they were kind, and helpful. They’d help improve the interior decor of the palace, and if he was honest, it looked better than anything he ever could’ve done.

“You better tell her how you feel after this.”

Zuko’s mouth gapes open at the girl’s words, and he swears the breath leaves his longs, and its as though everything hits him then. 

He would never get to tell Y/N how he felt if she died. He’d never get to listen to her try and tell a story just to go off on dozens of tangents, he’d never get to watch as she attempted to cook again, and he’d never get to hold her in his arms once more. There would be no more late night talks, and he wouldn’t hear her laugh, she wouldn’t tease him anymore and they wouldn’t walk through the courtyard feeding turtleducks again.

She’d never know he loved her.

Zuko finds himself nodding to Evelyn’s words, frozen in place as he looks to her and asks, “was I that obvious?” His voice is hoarse, and its probably because he didn’t stop screaming, even when Y/N’s body hit the water. 

Marcella is laughing at his words, blowing her nose into a tissue that Evelyn hands her before she speaks, “painfully obvious.”

“For someone who’s job revolves around love, Y/N is one of the most oblivious people I’ve ever met.” Evelyn grumbles out, rubbing her eyes as she yawns.

It was late, Zuko knew that much, the guests of the party had gone to the infirmary in the palace, being tended to by doctors and any other available healers if injured. Otherwise, they’d all returned to their rooms to sleep, or more likely stay up in fear of another attack. Zuko surely would.

“Go to bed guys, it’s getting late.” 

Evelyn looks at him like he’s one of the dumbest people she’s met, and if Zuko was honest, he probably was. But he simply nodded to Marcella, who had started leaning her head against Evelyn’s shoulder, eyes fluttering shut. “Uncle, why don’t you take them back to their rooms?”

Considering the fact that Zuko’s guards were around the corner, he wasn’t scared for his safety, but their presence just made him want to remain awake. 

“Nephew, you should sleep as well.” His Uncle replied, though he rose from his seat, bringing the yarn and the start of the scarf under his arm. 

Zuko gave his Uncle a smile, “I will. But if anything happens before then, I’ll be sure to alert you all.” He assured, nodding to Evelyn, who eyed him wearily. But she relented, shaking Marcella gently before standing up alongside her and Iroh. 

When they were out of sight, Zuko plopped back down in the seat, his elbows resting on his knees as he brought his hands to his face.

And for the first time in the night he cried, his body racked with sobs as tears streamed down his face and he struggled to breathe. The pain of all that had happened felt almost unbearable. She had to live. Y/N had to live. Because Zuko was going to confess. 

His fear of losing her outweighed his fear of rejection.

Wiping his tears away, Zuko suddenly felt grateful that Evelyn had left the box of tissues as he blew his nose. He sighed, his eyes piercing the door, hoping that something would happen.

As though his stare had willed her to exit the room, the healer came out, a grimace on her face as she looked to Zuko, likely because of his bloodshot eyes. The woman simply sighed, the grimace becoming a more sympathetic look. “Miss L/N lost a lot of blood... several of her bones were broken when she hit the water, especially her ribs. Her internal organs were damaged as well and... well it wasn’t very likely for her to survive.”

She’s dead.

Y/N is dead.

Oh.

“Wow, you look like a mess.” 

Zuko’s head whips up, his eyes meeting Y/N’s, she’s leaning against a wooden crutch, grinning lazily at him. The healer beside her looks rather apologetic as she frantically explains, “she woke up far quicker than we anticipated and only agreed to rest if we participated in her rather cruel prank.”

So, she wasn’t a ghost.

Zuko launches himself up from the chair, nearly tackling Y/N, but the wooden crutch she uses for support serves as a reminder of her fragile state as he asks, “can I hug you?”

Her smile falters at the sound of his voice, hoarse and jagged, so she simply extends are free arm outward. Zuko takes this as an invitation for a hug, gently wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his head in her neck, Y/N wrapped her free arm around his neck, hand finding its way to the hair at the nape of his neck. “Im s-”

“It’s not your fault Zuko. I swear if you say its your fault I will throw myself over the balcony again.” She threatened, hand tightening in his hair.

Zuko laughs quietly, inhaling deeply before he speaks again, “please never do that again.” 

“I make no promises.”

Sighing, Zuko releases her, “I hate you so much.” 

Y/N scoffed, “you love me.” She was limping over to the bed in the middle of the room, blood coating the surrounding area. Though the doctors in the room were moving across the room that they’d placed Y/N on, and dealt with her injuries on, Zuko couldn’t help but feel sick at the sight.

She could’ve died.

“Yeah, I do.”

Y/N pauses, turning to look back at him, her mouth gapes open. Zuko’s looking away, eyes on anything but her as he inhales deeply.

The healer simply sighs, “before we do this, I should inform the two of you that Miss Y/N cannot do any... strenuous activities for at least one month.”

Zuko’s cheeks are flushing red as he shakes his head rapidly, “ma’am-”

“We’ll be taking our leave. Have fun, but not too much fun. Please.” The woman closes the door behind her once the other doctors are out of the room, and Y/N can’t stop laughing at the mortified expression on Zuko’s face, despite the sharp pain she feels in her ribs.

Taking a seat on the fresh sheets of the bed, Y/N sighs, “so you love me?” She’s picking at the sheets, “as a friend?”

Zuko suddenly realizes just how right Evelyn was as he slowly shakes his head, “no. More than a friend. I think I inadvertently sabotaged half of the dates you sent me on because of it.”

Y/N laughs quietly, eyes falling on Zuko only to see he’s looking anywhere but her, she calls out to him quietly, “Zuko. Look at me.”

He doesn’t hesitate to bring his gaze to her, eyes meeting hers as he begins to fidget with his hand. Y/N simply reaches her hand out, and he takes it. “I love you too, idiot.” She mumbles, pulling him closer and wrapping her arms around his waist. “I just wish you had told me sooner so I didn’t waste so much time trying to set you up with other women.” 

A small laugh escapes him as he brings his hand to her hair, “how do I know you weren’t purposely giving me bad matches because you were in love with me?” 

Y/N removes her head from his stomach, looking up at him, her nose crinkles, “unlike you, I am a professional.” Zuko flicks her forehead, and Y/N pouts at him, hand coming up to his face, “can I kiss you?”

She can feel his face warm, but he nods rather enthusiastically nonetheless, and Y/N finds herself smiling at his as she uses her hands to pull his face downward towards her. His lips meet hers, and Zuko finds himself feeling complete, hands coming to Y/N’s face in an attempt to pull her closer while hers move to his ball up his robes that he’d yet to change.

 Zuko pulls away first, forehead resting on hers, “you need to sleep.” 

Y/N scoffed, eyes narrowing at him, “you need to sleep.” Looking to the bed, she raises a brow at him, “wanna lay with me?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, I could accidentally injure you or-”

Rolling her eyes, Y/N yanks him onto the bed, making her way to the other side and getting comfortable, “I’ll be fine.”

Yeah, everything would be fine. Maybe not for the Fire Nation, seeing as Y/N would potentially help rule a nation but...

Everything would be fine.

in·am·o·ra·ta/iˌnaməˈrädə/

noun

a woman with whom one is in love or has intimate relations.

A/N: i hope this was good enough!!! i tried!!! and idk how it ended up over 12k... that’s crazy man um kjhdsajfhjkah omg i really liked this concept though i hope i did it justice

TAGLISTS [lmk if you want to be added or removed via askbox or replies]

ATLA: @bubblebars​ @jada-cleo​ @Art-flirt @the-deli-meat​ @wemissyou3000​ @ajediherowitchrunner​

ZUKO: @outerxorbit @shawkneecaps @lil-lex1 @boxofteenageideas @izzieserra @eridanuswave @bigbuckyenergy @celamoon @savemesteeb @shephard17895 @ijustwannabecanadian @duh-dobrik @anime-simp @lammello  

[einprotagonist]

Quitting Job(s)

As someone who comes from a financially burdened family - doing a job at this stage of life is not only career benefiting but also an essential NEED during such financial phase. Alas, I do not have one right now.

Why though? Why don’t I have a job after being an okay-ish engineer and possessing some other useful skills?

I did have a job in hand as I graduated with an engineering degree from my college and it was one of the best companies in this country in their respective field. The work was very intriguing and their pay was fine enough to begin the career with. So I accepted the offer, but as time passed I started feeling as if my time input to the company was not being returned by enough money, there is and always will be a lot to debate about it but I had other dreams about respect and money in life. The job was not going to lead me to that stage in the amount of time that I had in hand. I had to quit and start studying again, while I am still eligible, to try and get into something I’d always wanted - the IAF. This was my first job and it was by far the best options I’ve had in life on my plate. All the bosses are still in touch with me and there is a lot of respect among us for each other.

I returned home to my parents as I had been living away from them for more than 7 years. Within an year I felt like there is a lot of time left in the day when I’m not studying and I could do some little work to earn a little money and support my family as its much needed. So I looked for jobs that do not require extensive amount of time and have localised/remote work.

I found a job with an NGO who gave me a chance to be a part of their management team and coordinate with the corporates. They were doing good work and it felt nice to be with them, it was absolutely the kind of work I needed and probably need it today too. The owner of that NGO was a doctor and she was a very strong lady, both by heart and powers. She was older than my mother and her wisdom about work always kept me in awe, she saw that I could do good things coupled with the organisation. My immediate senior or call her manager was totally south to the previous mentioned details. She was not at all how I would picture a manager of mine, and she recommended that I should not be given the role after a month of work and I was let go. I admit that during this one month I had a huge private concern and 3 days of leave was taken plus on the last days when I wanted to prove her wrong - I was taken to total bedrest by covid. Hence this job ended. Not blaming the loss of job onto anything or anyone, it was a mix of everything. The summer had begun.

Post that I continued to just study and not look for a job until the next summer arrived.

I once again felt the need of a job as cracking exams was not getting any easier so soon, it requires a lot of practice and while I am onto that, I also see the burden my family is under.

I find one with a newly established e-commerce firm, they pay me even lesser than my last employers and the work timing was always expected to be 12 hours. Another crazy man chasing his own dreams and disregarding the life of his employees. FUCK YOU MISTER. I continued to work with him despite feeling this, but bad luck struck and I fell sick with viral fever. This guy denied my leave application on day 1 but I couldn’t work due to headache, high fever and gastric issues so I kept sleeping despite him denying. The next day got worse for my health and I asked for a leave till I recover (I expected to return in 3-4 days but eventually got better after a week) and they denied again - I told them I quit and they will receive official resignation later today. This was after around 40 days of working with them. It was pathetic to see how some people will never evolve beyond their own benefit while ignoring the health, finances and happiness of their employees. MAY YOU NEVER SUCCEED IN YOUR PLAN because it degrades humanity. FUCK YOU AGAIN. I know you can read this.

And here I am, unemployed and trying to make things work. But seeing my folks at home being so tensed about finances make me think whether I should accept the employers stupidity and keep working for the money? Because maybe I’m just seeing my happiness and not my family's stress?

[tortoisesshells]

For the ship meme - dealer's choice please, for whichever pairing's been on your mind lately, and I'm looking forward to reading and learning about them!:)

Thank you, kind friend, and many apologies for the delay! I’m currently mired in trying to get the actual plot moving in Customs and Duties, after an unstated number of chapters wherein the Main Idiot Duo has not achieved much beyond being Emotionally Shut Down and mired in their own problems and not thinking of each other romantically in the slightest, because James Norrington is too stuck on his past and trying not to let the rapidly deteriorating situation in Boston get out of hand & Nellie Treat is the furthest thing from over her late husband’s death and also trying to keep the good Commodore from finding out about her smuggling business. In the base continuity of the 1730s, some of these questions don't really apply, so I've tried to either answer for an analogous question, or drawn from my stable of AUs of the AU.

Who reaches out to new neighbors?

Nellie's generally a friendlier face, but more importantly, Nellie thinks about community and interdependence in a far more positive, concrete way than James, who, bless his heart, is far too used to bossing people around.

Who remembers to buy healthy food?

Nellie initially, since she's spent years being a Good Mom and after getting small children to eat their greens, how hard could it be to make sure another adult eats his peas? (actually, I have no solid idea what "good food" looks like to an early 18th century Anglo-American colonist. Does she even know what broccoli is? Certainly she doesn’t think of healthy food the same way I do.) Too, providing is her love language, but I'm pretty sure after spending more than a week with Jimothy, realized the man treats food as sort of an irritating necessity of life, probably starts in on spice cakes and drinking chocolate.

Actually, on rereading the last few chapters, every time Nellie has seen James she’s been thinking /someone/ has to give that man a cup of tea that’s more sugar and cream than tea and/or a slice of cake - and she’s still at a point in her relationship with him where she intermittently thinks her life would be much easier if she’d just let him drown several months before.

Who remembers to buy junk food?

Nellie, again.

Who fixes the oven when it breaks?

Neither of them. One of them arranges for someone else to fix something like a blown-in chimney or a damaged galley-stove. Even in the 20th or 21st c. continuities, I'm pretty sure one of them would call Sears or a handyman while the other read the manual and bemoaned that two otherwise capable and intelligent adults have no idea what's going wrong. They're deeply pragmatic people, but in this instance that means knowing that they've never had to learn this, and knowing when they're beat.

Who waters the plants and/or feed the pets?

If there's cat, I imagine Nellie is very much the hardass about not feeding them off the table - which means that James would just do it when she's not looking. 

In the modern AU, Nellie and her family do have a cat named Hotspurr, and I do imagine that Hotspurr very much becomes James’s responsibility. Pets just aren’t really Nellie’s cup of tea, in any continuity; James, on the other hand, I think appreciates the regimen and regularity of feeding animals or watering house plants. 

Who wakes up earlier?

Hard to say. Neither of them have good sleep schedules, and both tend not to sleep when under stress; when they’re not under pressure, I actually imagine Nellie tends to get up first - she’s had many years managing children and running a household, and lucky for James, being a commissioned officer who doesn’t have to stand watch means he gets to keep relatively normal hours.

Who makes the bed?

James. Nellie's just not that neat outside of public spaces in her home. If it can’t be seen, she can’t be judged for it; plus she’s just going to get into bed again eventually, and it’s going to get mussed again, so why bother? Pull the bed curtains if it’s going to be an irritant. James, on the other hand, like order and organization in all things - even and especially if no one else is going to see it.

Who makes the coffee?

Nellie, because even in the 18th century continuity she’s incredibly dependent on caffeine & it’s the luxury she lets herself indulge in consistently. It’s not that she doesn’t trust anyone else to make it to her liking ... but it is.

She may let James make the coffee, or talk her into letting someone else, like his steward, make it. After several years of close observation, and, possibly, locking her out of the kitchen.

Who burns breakfast?

I don't imagine Nellie in any era can do much more than very basic cookery, but what she can do, she does pretty well. I'm going to have to give this one to James, though I really can't imagine him cooking; I don’t think he’d be bad (though, if pressed, I assume James Norrington is a better baker than cook, if only because I associate baking with just following the damn recipe & cooking with arcane arts and hidden rituals  & just making shit up on the fly) so much as it’s not something he’d ever have had much reason to get good at in the main continuity, because yay gender roles (/s) and class expectations(/s).

How do they let each other know they're leaving the house?

This is Quite Difficult to answer in the base continuity without giving away parts of the ending that’s not  the obvious “the truth is revealed & some very Hard Talks happen before they get together” so, uh, have some Modern AU - They’re both practical to a fault, so they both tend to run down the phone-keys-wallet list and ask the other if they need anything while they’re out - Nellie’s job, however, is literally in the store-front downstairs, so she doesn’t tend to leave the house as much? (also, in every era, Nellie’s just ... kind of a homebody. She finds a home and sticks to it.)

How do they greet each other when one of them gets home?

 Announcing it to the house, kiss on the cheek, and probably immediately going into something that happened to them that reminded them of the other that day? Neither of them tends to say “I missed you” about day to day things, but being remembered because someone was talking about Samuel Eliot Morison in the shop or all that trivia about longitude finally came in handy at the law firm is the greatest kind of compliment?

Who brings home little gifts like flowers/chocolates more often?

Nellie - she’s very bad at saying “I love you” or even being openly affectionate, but she loves picking up books or shells or interesting curios as a means of saying “I was thinking about you” -

Who picks the movie for movie night?

No movies in the 18th century, alas - but as far as books or plays, neither of them is actually all that regularly educated, or even into their early 30s had enough free time to develop taste? Nellie went to a dame school for a few years, but irregularly; James got stuck at sea from the age of five and hard a largely practical education that didn’t include much other than seamanship & political maneuvering. Nellie’s the more openly curious of the two, so I suspect she’s the one picking up new books to read out loud. Maybe she’ll even get around to teaching herself (or hiring someone to teach her) the harpsichord one of these days?

Their favorite kind of movie to watch?

In modern continuities? I’m not wholly sure, but I feel strongly that James would have very strong feelings about Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World. I think Nellie would like historical dramas, honestly?

Who first suggests a pillow fort?

Nellie, I think, as a coping thing? She tends to curl up or wedge herself into the corner of chairs when she’s exhausted or beyond upset; I think she’d like or benefit from small, enclosed spaces from time to time. Both of them like /doing/ things - certainly, sitting still is not something Nellie tends to do. Ever. Unless pretty much forced to do so.

Who builds the pillow fort?

It’s a group effort, but I suspect this is mostly James’s doing. Especially if the kids/ step-kids get involved.

Who tries to distract the other one during the movie?

Nellie, probably, because ruffling his feathers is just so easy, and of the two of them, Nellie is less likely to take anything not life-threatening seriously.

Who falls asleep first?

Nellie. When not stressed beyond her limits, she can and will fall asleep standing up.

Who is big spoon/little spoon?

Nellie’s little spoon, in part because she’s just shorter (though, not to keep bringing up her late husband - Nellie’s about a foot shorter than James, but she was over a foot and a half shorter than Samuel, so it’s not so dramatic as before) - and in part because she tends to sleep curled up on herself, which she can’t very well do as the big spoon.

[sweetestlamb]

How Do I Look?

Summary: Mun Yeong and Gang-Tae spend their first weekend apart. Things go really well.

Author's Note: I intended for this to be less gutter filth but I'm a pervert so you got this instead. Sorry. A little. I'm the worst. I know. I promise to try to stop being a hornball and write something sweet and wholesome. 

P.s. I just did some edits, so any errors should now be fixed. Thank you to everyone sharing my story, y’all are the realest.  I’ll be posting this on AO3 as well to get that fandom recognized soon. 

The sunlight shines intensely through the windows and Mun Yeong wonders how much it would cost to stop that, just turn off the sunlight that perpetually ruins her sleep every morning. Those ridiculous birds are always chirping outside her window clearly in cahoots with the sun. With menacing eyes she glares at them all.

The cursed Castle is quiet. Still. It is her first weekend alone. She sighs in frustration, annoyed that he planned on keeping his word and going back to the live- in cook and two-faced bitch's house. Threatening to kill him if they left hadn’t convinced him and that was the only thing she could think of to say to him. What other reason could she ask him to stay?

Stay for me.

No. That would scare him away too. Or maybe his answer would scare her. All the same, now she was alone in this huge Castle and she didn't know if she could stand it. The castle felt so much more alive with them here. When they cleaned that day it was as if breathe had been pumped into the lungs of the castle. It no longer felt like she was living in a cemetery.

She didn't want to share him and especially not with that bitch.

Eyes scanning the room, she thought of something to do to pass the time. I want to go and kidnap him. But. He had seemed excited at the thought of seeing Jae-Soo , his dimwitted friend who ran a chicken farm or something. It must have been nice to have a friend. Someone who wanted to be around you, not for money or prestige just because they liked you. She tried to remember if she ever had anyone like that. Anyone besides him.

Lost in her thoughts her eyes landed on her shoes. Black heels, patent leather, five inch heel, crimson red bottom. She had seen them in a store and knew she had to have them. The fact that they were in someone else's hands was a minor inconvenience that a well placed glare solved. The last ones too. Destiny. What do you think you're doing? The minor inconvenience had gasped as she placed the heels on her own feet and found they were a perfect fit. Some things were meant to be.

Shopping, could be fun.

Her over-sized sunglasses dwarfed her face intentionally, she did not need fans approaching her. She knew that her face would do a great job at deterring them as well, resting bitch face was her natural face. She had already been to many different stores. Bags hung from her hand as she approached the next store. Heels clicking rhythmically, she entered and a slow "wow" left her lips as she looked up at the outfit adorning the body of a mannequin.

I want it.

"How can I help you today ma'am?" A young woman approached her with eager steps, plastic smile stretched across her face. She didn't answer verbally, instead pointed at the mannequin. The woman nodded and retrieved an exact replica for her.

"We also have changing rooms." She stated pointing to the rooms in the back but she shook her head no. "I will take it." A smiled dipped across her face that would make the Cheshire cat proud. Now she knew exactly now to have some fun.

Gang-Tae laughed as Jae-Soo swung his arms around recalling the customer who tried to bring their cat in for a free caricature drawing from Sang-Tae.

"Pizza is not for feline companions. Most cats are lactose intolerant and you should not give them any dairy. They will vomit or even have diarrhea and it is very painful for their butthole. You must not give your cat any dairy products." His brother quickly added from his corner, where he laid on his stomach rapidly reading another one of Mun-Yeong's stories.

He snickered and imagined how disgusted she would look if she were here. Rose petal lips twisted in distaste. It had been hours since he had left her and he wondered what she was doing? Sharpening knives? Scaring small animals?

But he didn't have to wonder for long because his phone vibrated in his pocket and her name lit up on the screen. She would probably try to convince him to come home again, ignoring his decision to leave on the weekends. Not understanding that he needed time away, being around her all the time was difficult enough. Seeing her every morning and every night was hard. It would be easy if he could convince his eyes to stop looking at her. But alas, they were disobedient. So the weekends were his only escape from her spell.

He carelessly opened her message and then pressed it shut. Feeling a flush run from the tips of his toes to top of his head. His breath hitched and his blood simmered. Was it possible to hyperventilate and pass out and die from lack of oxygen? He was about to figure out.

Maybe I'm dreaming right now. This is just another one of those dreams. I fell asleep and I'm dreaming.

He almost convinced himself until another message came. And with trembling hands he excused himself to the bathroom and shakily sat on the toilet. Taking a deep calming breathe, fortifying himself only to crumble like a sandcastle when he opened the message.

How do I look?

Her feet were encased in red heels, dainty like the rest of her. But it was the rest that felt him grasping for breathe. A red corset hugged her body making her already small waist look impossibly slim delicate even, but he knew better, her panties were connected to thigh high matching stockings.He had never seen anything this tempting.  He briefly wondered how they would feel on his skin. How would she feel on his skin?

When the phone began to vibrated in his hands, he almost dropped it. He stared down at the phone, fear and lust both raging in his body. Until he finally accepted the call, I must be crazy.

"What are you doing?!" He exclaimed genuinely wondering why she wanted to kill him today.

"Did you like the picture? I got this today. If you were home you could have helped me put it on." She proceeded, ignoring his question and proceeding to kill him further. "But don't worry, if you hurry home you can still help me take it off."

"Stop. Stop talking." He begged. 

She didn't.

"It feels amazing on my skin." She moaned into his ear with that voice of hers, and he felt shivers run though his body just like when she had blown in his ears. "You can't see but it's crotch-less too, so easy access. We don't even need to take it off to have fun!"

He didn't understand how she could say these things as if she were a salesperson simply listing the benefits of the product. Was it possible to die from over-stimulation? Was today his last day? He forced himself not to look at the picture to find the slit she was referring too.

"Please stop." He pleaded again, pleading to both her and his traitor of a body that was now awake and fully aboard with everything she was selling. He glared down at the tent in his jeans, wondering if that would kill him actually, lack of blood available to flow to his brain.

"I miss you, come home."

Those words went straight to his heart without his permission. She really was an unstoppable force. It probably didn't help that he wasn't trying hard to stop her. Or at all.

"I can't." He really, really wanted to. The pin was precariously on the edge. 

She huffed on the other side of the phone and he expected her to explode, volatile, a ticking time bomb ready to detonate but instead she quietly responded, "How do I look?"

"Amazing. You look amazing." He said honestly, stupidly. It took everything in him to not open the message again and see the tantalizing photo again, imagining her wrapped around him as he slammed her into the nearest wall, listening to her moans as he played with her sweet wetness through the new deadly panties. His breathes were a fast staccato, and she moaned at the sound, "It would look even better on the floor."

He didn't get a chance to reply because there was a loud knock on the door.

"Gang-Tae are you okay? We're going to get food, do you want to come?"

He cleared his throat before answering, "No, no you go ahead. I need a minute."

Jae-Soo was silent for a second before he responded, "Okay make sure to use an air freshener we'll see you soon."

He signed in relief glad that he didn't ask any questions. Better they thought he was having stomach problems. 

"Only a minute? That fast huh?" She teased. 

"Stop saying nonsense!" He angrily retorted, blush blooming all over his face and chest. Embarrassed that it really would be that fast, seeing her like that had awakened something primal in him.  His erection wasn't going to go down on its own and he didn't have much time until Jae-Su and his brother were back. Shame washed over him.

"I...um have to go"

"No you don't. I just heard you, you told them to go ahead because you need a..... Oooooooh" He squeezed his eyes shut at her sound of recognition, he felt powerless. His hand was already creeping down to his heavy erection. It felt like it was throbbing now and the sounds she made naturally weren't helping.

"I can stay. I can help, do you want me to send more pictures? I can take one in nothing, if you'd like." She offered and he could hear her moving, and he shouted before she could actually kill him, "NO!!" He didn't want the first time he saw her....like that to be an image. He wanted to be able to touch. If she sent that picture he might run to the castle and....no. He didn't need anymore photos.

"I have to go. Goodbye." He repeated, hand reaching its target and the pleasure was instant, his knees buckled as he almost fell to the ground.

"You sound incredible, send me a photo too. I want to see."

He looked down at this dick, head disappearing and reappearing in his grip. Fluid dripping down the sides, easing his way.

"Okay. You sound like you're having fun. I'll leave you to it. Come home tomorrow." And just like that she was gone. He groaned wanting to shout her name and maybe cry a little. Why did she have to play with him like this, he couldn't handle this. The phone fell from his grip, clattering to the side.

He pulled and twisted, feeling the end approaching as he tugged himself to completion, images of Mun-Yeong spread across his bed with him thrusting into her filling his head. She would be wild under him, giving as good as she got, nails clawing at his back.

With, a final thrust he felt his cum flew out, surging though his body violently, ultimately bringing him to his knees. "Ko Mun-Yeong!!" He rasped out as his vision blurred and after a long minute he opened his eyes, looking down at the mess he had made.

Cum stains dripped down his phone.

"Wow"

He looked down at the phone in shock.

She never hung up.

[random-imagines-blog]

Blow Out that Cherry Bomb for Me {Incubus!Synyster Gates Oneshot}

This is based on a special request by anonymous. This is the sequel to ‘Devil’s Gonna Get You if I Don’t First.’

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 2304 Summary: Even while distanced from one another, a relationship with an incubus can be interesting. Notes: Smut, swearing.

Synyster was glued to his phone every minute that he wasn’t busy working. Being on tour was usually the ride of his life, going through different cities and meeting tons of different people. But all that he could think about was being back home - back to his girlfriend. It had gotten to the point where the band had to have a talk with him about bringing his phone onto the stage, just in case she was to text. It fucked with the performance, because you’d pull it out between songs. It wasn’t fair to the rest of the band, and it really wasn’t fair to the audience. So it was only when they were on the road that he was looking at his phone, always keeping it charged. Barely interacting with anyone. They left him alone though - an incubus in love can be a very moody creature.

He was laying in his bunk, playing Solitaire, waiting for Tessa to call once she got off of work. The game went black for a second, and then her picture came up, along with her name. He grinned as he saw the picture of the two of them - despite seeing it multiple times a day, it never grew old. Lying together on the sands of Huntington Beach, her grinning face, her eyes hidden behind sunglasses. His own grin, the infamous hat perched on his head. Memories of an amazing day.

“Hey babe,” He said, picking up the call before the second ring could go through. He heard her struggling to take off her shoes. Those familiar little grunts that he knew so well. “Just get home?”

“Yeah,” Tessa sighed. “It’s been a long day, Syn. Gods, I wish that you were here. I need those magical hands to work a massage on me.”

Synyster smirked, closing the curtains to isolate the others from himself. They didn’t need to see what he had planned. “That bad? Run yourself a bath, love, and tell me about it.”

“I will - once I get these - damn - shoes off!” Tessa grunted, finally undoing the strap and slipped her feet out of the heels that she had been wearing for work. She let out a sigh of relief, and though it was just a small one, it was enough to get Synyster hard. As an incubus, he was already to go - and as her lover, every little thing that she did was able to turn him on.

He chuckled lowly, imagining Tessa stretching out her toes after having them be cramped all day. With his eyes closed, he could swear that he could imagine it.

Tessa started to talk about her day, though Synyster’s ears were straining to hear what was going on around her. Her feet passing across the carpet of the living room. The keys dropping into the bowl near the door. Her bag being set down on the couch. The coat hangers swinging as she hung her coat up. And then finally, the water being started in the bathtub.

“Do you need me to talk to your boss for you?” Synyster asked, once Tessa finally wrapped up her retelling of the day. “Because I’ll gladly make a call, and then fly you out to meet me.”

“I can’t just quit my job,” Tessa sighed. He could imagine her putting her smooth hand into the water, swirling it between her fingers, checking to see that it was the right temperature. And then the sound of a cap being opened. “As much as I would love to some days...”

“What kind of bubble bath are you using?” Synyster asked, cutting her off before she could go into further depression about not loving her job. He could even hear the liquid soap being poured into the water.

“Lavender,” Synyster told him. “And I’m throwing in some bath salts too. It really has been a long day. If I don’t destress, I think I might actually explode.”

“Don’t fall asleep in there,” Synyster advised. “You know how lavender affects you.”

“I won’t, I promise.” He could picture her smile now, the one that he thought was better than any model’s in a toothpaste commercial.

“Tessa - do me a favor.” Synyster commanded. It wasn’t a request - and so Tessa didn’t take it as one. She made a noise of affirmation. “When you get in the bath, think of me. Say my name. But only once you’re relaxed, okay?”

“Yes, Syn,” She agreed. He tapped his scree to end the call, and rested back against his pillow, eyes still closed, thinking of Tessa, and only Tessa. After a couple of minutes, he started to feel a tingling through his body, and the pictures in his imagination grew more and more intense. He could see her perfectly - her hair tied up out of her face, her head leaning back against the wall, her legs stretched out, nice and soapy. She was saying his name, like he had told her to do. Summoning him to her. It was time to make her day a whole lot better.

It was really like he was there with her, though his form couldn’t be seen. But it could be felt, if he focused hard enough, and managed to conjure up her own sexual energy. He started at her shoulders, rubbing them, pressing kisses onto her neck, just hard enough for her to feel. She moaned his name, and tried to push her shoulders back to feel him even more. It was building inside of him. He was becoming more heavy, though still could not be seen since he was not really there.

He then went on to fondle her breasts, which were sitting just below the water. It may have been warm due to the heat but he pulled on her nipples until they were hard, like she was sitting on an iceberg. “Oh fuck - Syn...” She said, adjusting herself in the tub.

Everytime that she moaned his name, or even thought about him, his own powers seemed to grow. That sexual energy had to go somewhere, and it went straight to him. As long as he was the one being thought about. He joined her in the bath, though the water didn’t so  much as ripple or rise. He kissed along her collar bone, still playing with those beautiful breasts that he missed so much. He wished he could really taste the saltiness of her skin, but alas - his powers didn’t extend to that.

His hands went further down, until they were between her legs, to that magical place he loved. Yes - he would admit, he loved her and every inch of her body. At the feeling of his touch, Tessa shot up, sitting straight rather than slouching. “Are you here with me?” She asked, but he could not muster up a sound in response. He just kept exploring, touching her naked flesh. Going down her legs with his fingers, to the very tip of her toes. The straps from her shoes had cut into her flesh, leaving lines, which he was determined to massage away.

She settled back down, feeling safe under his touch. She knew that it had to be him. That no other incubus could affect her in this way because she had been claimed. She bore his mark, right on her hip. The deathbat with the fedora hat was tattooed, the ink a startling contrast to her otherwise unmarred skin. It only  helped to further strengthen the bond between the two of them. Without it - he wouldn’t be able to be here like this. He would have gone mad if he had gone on tour and wasn’t able to have any of these visits.

He was able to influence her thoughts, but he could not control them. The more turned on that she got, the more power that he had with you. ‘Relax,’ He whispered to her, and watched as her body became less rigid, and she sunk back into the water once more. Now that she knew that it was him, she was much more open to being touched. To be helped to forget the day. To just soak in everything.

He kissed his way from her feet, back up her calf, and to her thighs. And he stayed between there, nibbling at her skin, grinning at the giggles that he heard. They were like music to his ears. Definitely more melodious than anything Zacky could come up with on his guitar. He started to suck on the skin right on her inner thigh, bringing a moan back out of you. Fucking delicious.

His own thoughts started to go wild. He wouldn’t be able to fuck her like this, but there was plenty of other things that he could do. Get her off. That sounded like a great goddamn start. Though he couldn’t fully taste her, he buried his face between her legs now, his tongue getting to work. The benefit of that was that he also couldn’t taste the soap in the water. The downside was he missed her taste upon his tongue. He really meant that he would fly her out. He needed her - and soon. He felt like he was wilting without her. Like a man walking around in the desert, looking for water.

Tessa was trying to reach him, her hands going to the space where she could feel his head against her thighs, but her hands touched nothing. “You’re such a fucking tease,” She said, growing exasperated, and gave up. She just put her hands on the edge of the tub instead. She clutched at the porcelain, feeing every little flicker of his tongue.

It was a tease. Synyster agreed with that. All he wanted was to pick her up, sopping wet, and take her to bed. Sheets be damned. And fuck her until her face was as red as the sheets that he had picked out. Make her hot and sweaty with exertion - because the best way to relax was in the afterglow of a good fucking. Everyone knew that.

Tessa’s legs started to squirm under the water. Fuck, it was beautiful seeing her face like that. Pretty as a picture. Enough to make him feel the blood running to his cock back in his body.

All that he could think about was fucking her. So many dirty thoughts running through his mind. They went straight through to hers, and he found that she was speaking under her breath. Speaking his own thoughts aloud.

“Oh my god baby...” She said, chest heaving. “I want you so fucking bad. I miss the taste of your skin. I miss the feeling of you. I just want to sink in and never leave.”

It was interesting, and it made Synyster smirk. He pulled his head away, and went back to work with his fingers, rubbing her, while returning his lips to her chest. He kept his thoughts going, so she could hear them coming out of her own lips.

“I want to feel you squeeze around my cock, you dirty girl. I want to feel you deep, deep inside. I want to watch you take all of me. I want you to scream my name as you come for me, you filthy girl.” This all came out of her mouth. She seemed surprised to hear herself say all of these things, but it helped. She was getting close. Synyster could feel it.

His thoughts left her, and she was alone with her own. She started to moan out his name, louder - and louder - reaching a crescendo as he plunged two fingers inside of her. He curled them to reach her spot. To rub against her inner lining. His thumb kept rotating circles around her clit.

Tessa didn’t know what to cling to. In this type of situation, it would usually be him. But her hands couldn’t grasp so she just kept holding onto the sides of the tub as the feeling of climax came over her. She shuddered, arching her back in the warm water, her toes curling, her mouth gaping open.

And with Tessa’s orgasm, Synyster returned to his own body, only to reach his own. He had made the mistake of not taking his cock out of his pajamas when he went over to her, so now he made quite a big, and sticky mess. He groaned, and finally got out of his bunk to rummage around in his bags and change.

“Ha! Syn made a mess of himself!” Johnny said, seeing Syn waddle.

“Fuck off,” He muttered. He found a new pair of pajamas, went into the bathroom and changed. Once he was feeling a little more clean, he returned to his bunk, just in time to see Tessa’s face coming up on his phone again. His mood was no longer tainted, and he grew excited to pick up his phone. “Well, hello there, beautiful.”

“That was fucking hot,” Tessa said into the phone. He could hear the water going down the drain in the background. He bit down on his fist to stop himself from getting aroused at the thought of you in just a towel. “I didn’t know that you could do that.”

“I have many talents, and a lot of time to showcase them. I want there to be some surprises in the future.”

“Oh my fuck, I’m a lucky gal,” Tessa said. He imagined her grinning into the phone. Maybe playing with her hair. Fixing the towel as it split. He chuckled, and laid back down on his bunk, closing the curtains for more privacy.

“No, love, I’m the lucky one.”

[jaskiersvalley]

Serial killer au?? You have my attention

This was very much an idea of two parts. The first was Eskel/Lambert/Cahir (because that is my ultimate OT3 right now) and can be found here. But because of having such interest in it, it was only accidental but right that a Geralt/Jaskier half was also brewed in the empty container I call a brain.

Under a cut for general serial killer stuff. CW: drugging, implied abuse, discussions of killing.

Killing had never been what Geralt had an interest in. He wasn’t like Eskel and Lambert, he didn’t need to watch as an undeserving life was quenched by his hands. However, killing gave him something else. A sense of peace and justice. Geralt grew up in a world that was black and white, right or wrong but the wrongs of the world were mixed into a grey and fairness was rarely delivered. That was where Geralt came in. He stalked through the shadows of life, just like Vesemir had taught them. Staying out of the others’ way, Geralt found his own hunting grounds to quell the rage at the lack of justice rained down on those who deserved it.

One of the lessons Vesemir had drilled into them all was to never get close to anyone. Nobody could understand their lives, most would either run screaming or, even worse, call the authorities on them. Eskel and Lambert worked their way round that rule by loving each other. And, if their message about Christmas was to be believed, they had found a third who not only indulged them in their ways but joined them, more bloodthirsty than the two of them combined.

At one point, Geralt had hoped he’d found his match. Yennefer had been accepting of what he did, even joined him a few times. The sex had been mind blowing. The rest, unfortunately not so much. Yennefer was out for revenge, had a list of targets, of all those who had wronged her as she grew up. When Geralt had asked what would happen when she got to the end of her list, she had shrugged and said “I’ll have won” and that was it. They couldn’t last, Yennefer wanted to be the one to have the last laugh, to exact the same terror she had endured and survived. Geralt wanted to cultivate a world where deserving justice was doled out. Eskel and Lambert just wanted to kill. A great believer in the idea of ‘each to their own’, Geralt left Yennefer but he kept an ear out for her, hoping she was doing okay.

The rule about not getting close to anyone was one that Geralt took seriously after that. If only Jaskier had taken the same lesson to heart. Alas, he didn’t know or really care about Geralt’s wishes in respect to that. They met at a bar, or rather, Jaskier had gotten bottled off the small stage and he’d taken refuge from the boos in Geralt’s quiet booth. And he refused to leave after that.

No matter where Geralt went, Jaskier was hot on his heels, singing, laughing, being everything Geralt wasn’t. He was a ray of innocent sunshine and Geralt began to wonder whether his mere presence could taint that. Yet, no matter when Geralt did, Jaskier stuck to his side. In the privacy of his own mind, Geralt was glad, it was nice to have such upbeat company when he dealt with the darkness that humanity had to offer.

Despite his best efforts, Geralt was just a man and Jaskier ticked so many boxes; gladly willing, eager, adventurous and pleasing on the eyes. Of course Geralt was under no misconception that he was just a curiosity, an itch to scratch in Jaskier’s eyes. He couldn’t be anything else, not when Jaskier flirted and bedded so many people.

Things got more frustrating when Geralt sometimes put work into finding his next target, the next scum of the earth that had bought their way free from judgement, but when he was ready to strike, the person was already dead. Heart attack, suicide, stroke, accidental overdose, misadventure, it didn’t matter what. It made him sloppy and careless with frustration. That was how Jaskier found out. However, he didn’t scream or go running. Instead, he pulled a flip blade from a fancy boot and offered it to Geralt to slit his target’s throat. While Geralt worked, Jaskier sang happily, eyes bright and eager on the body by Geralt’s feet.

“Not bad, a little sloppy. If you move from the wrist than the whole arm when slitting a throat, you’ll get a neater, more elegant line.” Geralt looked up at Jaskier who shrugged and laughed. “You didn’t think I’d be some helpless idiot, did you?”

It became a bickering point from then one. Jaskier seemed intent to prove that he had prowess equal to Geralt’s. The only difference was that he used different methods. Poisons, ambiguous looking deaths but his work was the same as Geralt’s.

“I’m a hitman,” Jaskier had said simply. “I wouldn’t be a good one if I was obvious.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Geralt had shot back and thought nothing of the glint in Jaskier’s eyes.

Things continued as before, Jaskier perched on the edge of a dumpster and singing while Geralt dragged a body towards it or Jaskier humming, leaning back in a chair as Geralt dealt with the body on the bed of a hotel room. After a job well done, they tended to go out drinking and Geralt enjoyed it when Jaskier paid. The man seemed to have a never ending supply of money and, when asked, he said he collected bounty on kills they made. It was a farce but Geralt went along with it, not able to believe someone as upbeat, charismatic and happy go lucky could be not just a cold blooded killer but a good one at that.

The drink in his hand didn’t taste any different to usual but Geralt’s head swam. At first, he put it down to dehydration, he probably hadn’t had enough to drink before the job. So he drank more but it only made his thoughts slip around, jumbled. He almost slipped from his chair, glass toppling over the floor where he missed the table to rest it on.

“Oh dear, seems you had quite enough to drink,” Jaskier seemed entertained. This was Geralt’s first drink and yet he could barely focus. An arm was looped around his waist, his own was slung over broad shoulders. There were flashes of memories, Jaskier whispering sweet reassurances as cool air hit his bare skin. Something tightened around Geralt’s throat and he was shushed.

Waking up in the morning, Geralt groaned. His head was pounding and he couldn’t remember much beyond sitting down in a pub with Jaskier. If he really thought about it, there were snippets of memory but nothing concrete. Eyes opening, Geralt gasped, lurching up from the headboard he’d been resting against. The position had his neck and back sore and he couldn’t fathom why he wasn’t flat on his back.

There was a TV opposite him, playing porn on a loop. Not even good porn and he scoffed, wondering what the hell had happened. Something was snug around his neck and, reaching up, Geralt was mystified to find it was a belt.

“Good morning,” Jaskier trilled, looking perky. “Looks like someone had a wild night!”

“What?” Geralt rasped and gratefully took the glass of water being pushed into his hands. Which were lightly bound together.

“Well, porn, bondage, a belt around your neck, it looks like auto-erotic asphyxiation was on the menu last night.”

“I’m not into it,” Geralt growled, wishing he could remember what the hell had happened last night. On the bedside table was half a bottle of whiskey, a used glass and a bag of mysterious pills.

“Well, nobody other than you and I know that,” Jaskier purred. “And it could have gone so very wrong, one notch too tight on the belt. Especially with you mixing drugs and alcohol.”

Tutting, Jaskier shook his head. “People would assume it was sexual misadventure that killed you.”

Like a cold shower, realisation washed over Geralt with a large dose of horror. “You drugged me, set it up to look like this.”

“I don’t know,” Jaskier shrugged teasingly, “there’s no proof that I was involved at all. People see me take you to your room and leave almost immediately, having drinks and singing at the open mic last night before retiring my room which was next door to yours.”

Geralt looked towards the window and the ledge, knowing exactly what would have happened. If anyone had ever bothered to suspect Jaskier, though chances were, the scene he set was enough to not need a more thorough examination.

“Fuck,” Geralt swore and Jaskier tossed his head back on a laugh.

Never again did Geralt underestimate Jaskier. But he also thought twice about accepting a drink from him for a few months. It gave him a greater appreciation for how Jaskier worked though. Rarely, Geralt could spot the moment he drugged a target but that wasn’t needed half the time and they willingly followed him to their doom. If they didn’t, Geralt could always step in. They had their double act worked out wonderfully quickly and it was effective. Not many could resist stepping in to ‘protect’ Jaskier from a jealous ex. Or, if they did, they were flattered by the attention Geralt gave them.

It was a steep learning curve but Geralt learned from Jaskier and, in exchange, he taught Jaskier about his methods too. Such a partnership suited them well. While Geralt didn’t take bounties and hits, he still indulged in the benefits as Jaskier had no qualms about accepting payment to kill.

To say that Christmas was an interesting affair that year was an understatement. It wasn’t just the core family of four, they had two extra seats at the table which was carefully cleared of knives before anyone turned up. That wasn’t a deterrent to their deadly ways but at least it spared the walls from new holes.

[suttcnfm]

hi  it’s  me  your  least  favorite  (  and  most  favorite  )  person  hailey  back  at  it  again  making  a  bio  that’s  way  too  long  .  this  is  sutton  ,  she’s  my  whimiscal  fairy  child  who’s  endured  a  lot  please  be  gentle  with  her  !!  or  ruin  her  life  !!  whatever  you  want  !!

𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒊.  𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

( elizabeth lail, cisfemale, she/her, pisces, 25 ) i spotted sutton harvey at the beach today. don’t you know them? they live down by the boardwalk and usually hang out with the artists & boho clique. from what i’ve heard, they can be finicky, but they’re also effervescent. i always think of them when i hear fuck it i love you - lana del rey and tend to associate them with mom jeans stained with acrylic paint, the taste of strawberry lemonade, & white cotton sundresses

𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒊𝒊. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬

𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 

sutton elise harvey

𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞(𝐬) 

her mom used to call her ellie

𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 

february 22nd

𝐚𝐠𝐞 

twenty - five ( 25 )

𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 

five foot eight inches ( 5′ 8″ )

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫

female 

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐬 

she / her

𝐨𝐜𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧(𝐬)

painter and art contributor for sunhollow museum

𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞(𝐬) 

english & french

𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 

bisexual & biromantic

𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦

elizabeth lail

𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒊𝒊𝒊. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲

𝐳𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐜

pisces sun, gemini rising, & aries moon

𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

chaotic neutral 

𝐦𝐛𝐭𝐢 

enfp-a

𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞

type 4w3 ( the individualist )

𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 

sanguine-melancholic

𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 

hufflepuff

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 

how she loves others - acts of service, gift giving, & quality time

how she needs to be loved - quality time & physical touch

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐨

cassie ainsworth ( skins )  ,  luna lovegood ( harry potter )  , bubbles ( powerpuff girls ) , claire colburn ( elizabethtown ) , bmo ( adventure time )

𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒊𝒗. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐲

triggers  (  these  are  all  the  triggers  as  they  appear  throughout  ,  they  will  be  tagged  accordingly  )  :  death  mention  ,  cancer  and  death  tw  ,  drug  mention  ,  sexual  assault  tw  ,  addiction  tw  ,  drugs  tw  ,  and  drug  mention

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞. 

the  first  time  warm  brown  eyes  peered  into  her  mothers  a  connection  was  formed  ,  the  eldest  daughter  to  what  would  soon  be  an  expansive  harvey  household  .  this  very  moment  would  be  the  catalyst  of  a  bond  that  formed  sutton  into  who  she  is  ,  though  i  am  getting  ahead  of  myself  .

sutton  harvey  grew  up  in  julian  california  a  town  that  carried  the  suffocating  small  town  feel  of  suburbia  despite  being  mere  minutes  outside of  the  hustle  and  bustle  of  los  angeles  .  though  it  should  be  mentioned  that  she  preferred  the  quiet  stillness  of  a  town  where  she  could  known  by  someone  for  something  .

her  parents  were  an  interesting  pair  .  her  mother  a  free  spirited  enigmatic  young  woman  who  believed  in  healing  through  love  and  nature  ,  and  her  father  a  struggling  mean  -  spirited  business  tycoon  always  looking  for  the  next  thing  he  could  exploit  .  but  despite  their  clashing  personalities  and  seemingly  opposite  morals  ,  they  were  in  love  ,  had  been  since  high  school  ,  and  they  balanced  each  other  out  almost  perfectly  . 

but  as  it  turns  out  almost  perfect  wasn’t  good  enough  for her  father  ,  who  split  when  she  was  eight  ,  leaving  behind  sutton’s  heart  broken  mother  ,  and  five  kids  to  raise  alone  .

the  family  was  hardly  making  a  enough  to  survive  before  the  sudden  departure  of  her  father  ,  and  so  this  left  an  eight  -  year  -  old  sutton  to  step  up  to  the  plate  and  help  her  mother  ,  raising  her  siblings  while  her  mom  tried  to  find  steady  work  .   

as  the  years  went  on  and  her  siblings  had  more  and  more  needs  things  only  got  more  difficult  .  trying  to  provide  for  five  children  on  one  paycheck  isn’t  exactly  the  easiest  thing  that  one  can  do  after  all  .

sutton  prayed  that  she’d  be  graced  with  the  same  mean  streak  that  her  father  had  ,  but  alas  she  was  gentle  at  heart  ,  similar  to  her  mother  an  enigmatic  personality  that  was  hard  to  pin  down  .

while  it  worked  in  her  benefit  with  most  people  ,  it  is  difficult  to  raise  children  without  practical  dreams  ,  something  sutton  had  never  been  a  fan  of  ,  there  were  times  when  this  became  a  point  of  contention  between  her  and  younger  sister  reece  ,  but  for  the  most  part  her  siblings  recognized  how  difficult  a  thing  their  sister  was  doing  .  

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐞. 

DEATH MENTION  her  teenage  years  came  much  faster  than  she  anticipated  ,  and  while  life  had  been  mostly  smooth  sailing  in  her  eyes  ,  there  were  things  that  sutton  simply  wasn’t  prepared  for  .  the  loss  of  her  mother  was  one  of  them  .

CANCER & DEATH TW  unbeknownst  to  any  of  her  children ,  behind  the  scenes  sutton’s  mother  had  been  suffering  from  breast  cancer  ,  and  she’d  opted  out  of  getting  treatment  ,  something  they  couldn’t  afford  with  the  minimal  money  she  was  bringing  in  ,  and  instead  she  suffered  in  silence  so  they  would  have  a  chance  at  survival  .

everyone  ,  including  sutton  herself  ,  expected  her  to  break  .  the  bond  that  the  two  had  built  was  immeasurable  and  sutton  had  never  shown  the  ablitiy  to  be  grounded  before  .  her  and  her  mother  were  both  two  enigmas  perfectly  coexisting  ,  and  suddenly  it  was  up  to  sutton  to  figure  out  what  to  do  .

DRUGS & ALCOHOL TW   enter  sutton’s  aunt  ,  claire  ,  who  begrudgingly  left  her  life  in  las  vegas  to  come  and  watch  over  her  nieces  and  nephews  at  the  price  that  she  would  blow  most  of  the  money  the  received  on  drugs  and  alcohol  .

DRUG MENTION  there  wasn’t  a  day  sutton  could  remember  that  she  didn’t  come  home  to  her  aunt  passed  out  with  vodka  bottles  littering  the  floor  or  strung  out  on  coke  with  a  man  sutton  had  never  seen  before  on  their  couch  .

sutton’s  resilience  was  the  only  thing  that  kept  her  going  ,  she  shielded  her  siblings  from  as  much  as  she  could  ,  knowing  that  this  was  the  last  thing  they  needed  to  be  their  reality  ,  and  for  the  most  part  ,  it  worked  .

SEXUAL ASSAULT TW  then  came  another  decimating  blow  ,  on  a  day  like  any  other  sutton’s  aunt  for  once  sober  enough  to  drive  ,  pulled  sutton  out  of  school  early  and  took  her  home  .  and  what  seemed  like  an  out  of  character  behavior  for  aunt  to  exhibit  ,  became  crystal  clear  when  sutton  saw  the  man  waiting  for  her  on  the  couch  .

SEXUAUL ASSAULT TW  this  became  another  habit  of  her  aunt’s  ,  pulling  sutton  out  of  school  in  order  to  use  her  body  to  score  drugs  .  then  bringing  her  back  and  forcing  her  to  act  normal  ,  as  if  things  were  still  totally  fine  .

sutton  put  on  a  brave  face  for  her  siblings  ,  but  was  slowly  cracking  under  the  pressure  of  everything  that  seemed  to  be  perfectly  chipping  away  at  the  person  she  once  was  .

this  is  until  she  met  a  boy  ,  a  musician  with  a  similar  story  to  hers  ,  who  she  completely  connected  with  in  a  way  that  was  rivaled  only  by  her  mother  .  him  and  her  seemed  to  have  the  same  bleeding  wounds  that  could  only  be  healed  by  each  other  .

cue  nights  at  the  beach  ,  swapping  stories  ,  and  endless  road  trips  confined  to  their  little  bubble  of  bliss  .  he  fueled  the  artist  within  her  .  painting  upon  painting  of  the  way  he  made  her  feel  ,  how  his  music  moved  her  ,  for  once  the  world  didn’t  seem  so  cruel  .

but  of  course  ,  the  world  was  determined  to  prove  sutton  harvey  wrong  .  with  a  sudden  disappearance  of  both  her  first  love  and  her  aunt  ,  the  latter  of  which  ran  back  to  vegas  with  her  new  beau  ,  she’d  felt  abandoned  just  as  before  .  and  here  is  where  sutton  harvey  finally  cracked  .

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐡. 

she  and  her  siblings  moved  in  with  her  father  ,  who  living  a  more  lavish  and  childless  lifestyle  with  his  new  fiancée  in  san  diego  .  the  harvey  siblings  were  yet  again  tasked  with  raising  themselves  .

ADDICTION TW  with  her  siblings  growing  older  ,  and  sutton  having  mounds  of  unprocessed  trauma  ,  and  she  began  to  mix  with  the  wrong  crowd  .  finding  the  numbing  of  substances  felt  better  than  the  hollow  numbness  of  being  abandoned  by  every  person  she’d  ever  loved  .

art  and  school  alike  became  distant  priorities  as  she  spent  her  last  nights  as  a  senior  doing  ecstasy  on  the  beach  and  hooking  up  with  randoms  just  to  feel  alive  again  .

DRUGS TW after  just  barely  graduating  ,  sutton  spent  her  new  found  freedom  getting  high  ,  having  sex  ,  and  wasting  her  life  away  .  struggling  to  find  any  sense  of  self  in  everything  she’d  done  ,  her  entire  life  seemed  to  have  been  lived  for  other  people  .

this  only  made  her  further  spiral  ,  trying  to  convince  herself  that  even  though  this  was  having  a  negative  toll  on  her  ,  at  least  for  once  she  was  living  for  herself  .

DRUG MENTION  this  was  until  while  she  was  coming  down  from  an  immense  high  she  stumbled  upon  a  record  store  where  through  the  window  she  caught  a  small  glimpse  of  her  past  ,  of  the  person  she  used  to  be  ,  the  face  of  the  boy  who’d  up  and  left  all  those  years  ago  .

her  entire  world  seemed  to  collide  with  her  heart  at  that  very  moment  .  for  a  fleeting  moment  she  felt  like  the  girl  she  was  in  high  school  ,  full  of  life  ,  love  ,  and  most  importantly  art  .

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

after  this  near  encounter  with  her  past  self  ,  she  worked  heavily  on  getting  sober  .  and  has  now  been  clean  for  five  years  !!

after  her  first  year  of  getting  sober  she  worked  multiple  jobs  to  buy  a  small  studio  apartment  where  she  could  begin  painting  again  ,  and  even  made  strides  to  reconnect  with  her  father  and  her  siblings  whom  she’d  since  distanced  herself  from  .

soon  enough  she  became  an  art  contributor  for  the  local  museum  and  earns  her  income  between  hosting  small  art  galleries  on  the  pier  and  the  aforementioned  art  contributions  .

after  three  years  of  sobriety  ,  more  widely  recognized  art  ,  and  a  proper  relationship  with  her  father  ,  he  gifted  her  a  beach  house  where  she  spends  a  majority  of  her  time  .

what  started  as  one  cat  to  keep  her  company  turned  into  nine  because  if  there’s  one  thing  that  sutton  lacks  it’s  control  .

she  has  fully  embraced  the  person  she  was  and  the  person  she  aims  to  be  .  her  personality  is  a  direct  influence  on  who  her  mother  was  because  if  there’s  anyone  that  sutton  looks  up  into  in  life  ,  it’s  her  .  the  best  way  i  could  describe  her  personality  is  the  embodiment  of  the  quote  ,  “ i  could  never  be  the  main  character  . i  exist  solely  in  the  fevered  imaginations  of  sensitive  writer-directors  to  teach  broodingly  soulful  young  men  to  embrace  life  and  its  infinite  mysteries  .  ”

𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒗. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐩𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 

𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫 

lavender

𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 

light fog because she likes the scenery it creates

𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐚𝐲 

dawn,  there’s something pure to her about the stillness of the earth at that time of  day and !! it’s when she gets a lot of her painting done !!

𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐥(𝐬) 

butterflies and elephants

𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐣𝐢𝐬

🍒🥺✨😡🌈🦋🤡🥰

𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 

𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫

penelope harvey ; deceased

𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫

maxwell harvey  ;  alive

𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬)

reece harvey ; sister 

elizabeth harvey ; sister 

wyatt harvey ; brother 

casey harvey ; brother 

𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞 

𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

high  school  diploma

𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐬 

in  order  of  breed  :  poppy  (  scottish  fold  )  ,  milo  (  scottish  fold  )  ,  taz  (  scottish  fold  )  ,  jasper  (  british  shorthair  )  ,  archie  (  british  shorthair  )  ,  sadie  (  british  shorthair  )  ,  ginger  (  maine  coon  )  ,  hunter  (  maine  coon  )  ,  and  felix  (  maine  coon  )

𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬

painting  ,  sketching  ,  learning  languages  ,  reading  ,  photography  ,  writing  ,  sewing  ,  thrifting  ,  playing  instruments  (  mostly  the  guitar  )  ,  and  baking 

𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

a  beach  house  gifted  from  her  father  but  splits  her  time  between  a  studio  apartment  cramped  with  art  and  a  beach  house  filled  with  cats 

𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬

has  a  tendency  to  not  sleep  enough  ,  has  occasional  nightmares  ,  and  is  prone  to  frequent  tossing  and  turning  .  but  when  she  does  fall  asleep  ,  it’s  almost  a  guarantee  you  won’t  be  able  to  wake  her  up  .  she’s  an  extremely  heavy  sleeper  . 

𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬

honestly  it’s  a  toss  -  up  she  either  eats  junk  food  for  a  straight  week  and  has  never  seen  a  vegetable  in  her  life  ,  or  she  is  on  a  health  binge  and all  you’re  going  to  find  in  her  house  is  snap  peas  and  baby  carrots  .

𝐚𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬

sunrises  ,  house  plants  ,  soft  hands  ,  fuzzy  socks  ,  the  color  yellow  , vanilla  scented  candles  ,  soft  lips  ,  rosy  cheeks  ,  strawberries  ,  freshly manicured  nails  ,  over  sweetened  coffee  ,  kiss  marks  on  napkins  ,  dewy  skin  ,  french  words ,  paint  stained  clothing  ,  midnight  conversations  ,  a  sweet tooth  ,  gold  jewelry  , warm  hugs  ,  gentle  voice  , and  dancing  in  the  rain  .

𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒗𝒊.  𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

uhhhh  so  i  have  wasted  all  my  brain  power  on  this  so  some  suggestions  are  exes  ,  fwbs  ,  unrequited  crushes  ,  skinny  love  ,  slow  burn  ,  a  girl  squad  ,  ride  or  dies  ,  work  friends  or  maybe someone  who  admires  her work  ,  best  friends  ,  fake  relationship  ,  enemies  ,  ex  -  friends  ,  enemies  turned  friends  ,  friends  turned  enemies  ,  good  influence  ,  bad  influence  , old  party  friends  ,  one  night  stand(s)  , ,  neighbors  ,  secret  friends  ,  and  those  are  all  the  suggestions  i  can  come  up  with  at  the  moment  !  feel  free  to  message  me  with  plot  ideas  i  promise  i  will  scream  and  cry  over  .

[captain-aralias]

Creators: give a “behind the scenes” look at one of your works. This could be things that got removed or changed, the origins of ideas/details, whatever you like!

oh hey - it’s trivia tuesday already (i guess it’s been a long two days back at work this week). i know everyone is still working their way through the remixes that are finished and posted - and i say, do this! some cracking stuff. i’m over half way through now, and i want to write up some thoughts about how these 26 stories approached remix - because it’s super inventive. i think people benefited from not being familiar with the format.

but i also wanted to share my thinking around why i picked the fic to remix that i did - and what else i was considering from @bazzybelle‘s ficlist, because i think the thought process around remix is interesting. AND i wanted to show you the 500 words i wrote almost immediately of a completely different remix that i definitely won’t finish. it would have been... a publishing AU, fake relationship with too-early-in-the-relationship sex. all good things in a fic, right?

so - read on for deleted scenes, and discussion of thought process. and don’t read on, if that’s not your jam. 

(in general remember - i’m keen to leave stuff in the original that’s good, rather than just thieve everything. so that’s my thought process here.) 

first idea: 

I Just Want Your Extra Time And Your .....

(texting, sex chat). i already really liked this fic, and i have IRL experience of working in publishing (which you’ll see to some extent in the fic - i worked very near people who worked on celebrity cookbooks, which is what baz works on in the fic) (the launch party is not revealed to be at the groucho club in the bit i wrote, but would have been - and i’ve been there/i know soho, so ... that was all appealing)

my idea was: the original is a text fic, mine isn’t, although they still only know each other through the sex chat set-up. so instead of simon and baz having text-sex (as in the fic), baz asks simon [who he's never met] to come and be his fake date at a publishing launch party where he sees lamb, his former boyfriend. 

the trigger for simon and baz progressing with their relationship/having sex (Because they were going to have sex but IRL) would be the same - baz seeing lamb and freaking out. and some of the texts would be literally copied and pasted in my fic as backstory. 

here were my original notes:

in the original fic there's a bit where baz sees lamb, his ex boyfriend, and then is like - hey, simon distract me and they have phone sex

my fic will essentially start there - baz is at a launch party for one of his books, lamb is there - dating the author. it is awful. baz wants to leave, but can't. also, it's time for the text slot with simon - he goes and hides in a cloakroom

and is texting simon, it's terrible - i am so drunk and it's still terrible. and i think simon offers (rather than baz asks) to come and pretend to be his boyfriend

for some sort of plausible denial reason like baz will text him a lot over hte next few days so he'll get a lot of extra money or some shit, but also because simon thinks lamb is a dick even through teh messages

simon shows up - they both drink a lot. they like each other, simon punches lamb (probably). baz asks if he can take simon to a restaurant, they talk more - they kiss. they go back to a hotel together. they discuss whether or not this means that simon is a prostitute (no). they have sex IRL

baz wakes up - and leaves immediately, obviously.

they text again the next day - it's awkward. simon thinks about how he could track baz down if he wanted to - but he feels like baz doesn't want him to, so he doesn't

simon gets out of his horrible job - baz probably tries to get in touch with him, but can't because he's gone. simon gets a message from baz ....... this is still to be determined

anyway - i will probably steal the meet cute in the elevator, it's nice.

why i stopped writing it: 

i knew it was going to take ages to write - i didn’t have the time or brainspace to write 20k of fic. i’d assumed going in that i could lean on the original fic to provide the meetcute, but realised that since it was an AU, i still needed to sell the relationship - particularly given that they were meeting in real life for the first time in my fic. 

also, it would have been my first mundane AU for the fandom, and my first thing where they weren’t enemies first. (so i was trying to think about how i could get them not to like each other a bit WHILE STILL doing fake dating - and it was throwing me off). it was all just too much.

everything i’ve written is pasted for you at the bottom.

other ideas: 

a month passed. i didn’t write any more on my original remix, but went back to greener grass instead. i sent out the month warning email to remixees and thought - i am not going to finish this fic. 

so, i went back to the list of bazzybelle’s fic and thought what can i write that i can definitely write in a month? 

1. You're F***in' Perfect to Me - daphne POV

i thought, i could write this from malcolm's POV.  in the fic daphne talks a lot about how she and malcolm are just friends, rather than true love, and it's baz she has real (motherly) feelings for, not malcolm. so i thought i could write 'the courtship of mrs grimm' where malcolm gets a wake-up call from this argument, and thinks, i actually do love daphne but she likes my son more than me. he's been hiding behind not wanting to sully natasha's memory, etc, etc. fiona would probably be in it. 

2. bat baz

i also had a bit of a naff idea where instead of baz turning into a bat, in bat baz, he would turn into bat man... 

(interestingly one of the remixes was about baz turning into a cat) 

3. If I Fell In Love With You - which i eventually chose

i took the dancing and the music, the set up, and the theme of communication - also some dialogue. pushed some of the focus onto baz’s relationship with niall, pushed the action back in time towards wayward son, added a truth spell (based on a spell in the original) to force communication.

i think this is one of the most interesting remixes i’ve ever done, btw. i’m really pleased with my take on it. 

i chose this to remix because i thought - it’s only a few scenes, rather than a whole get-together arc, and it felt achievable in the timespan. i also had a strong idea about what i could do that was different - the relationship with niall and the spell, and what i would leave for people to discover in the original (simon’s POV - including the warmth he feels when baz cooks for him, the two of the resolving the initial fight when simon comes home in a bad mood). 

the title is a combination of - another line from ‘if i fell’ but one that is about not talking to each other/not putting yourself out there... and ‘where words fail’ - which is the spell i used, and also picks up on what baz says to niall - that telling simon wasn’t enough. even if he’d had the right words, they wouldn’t have been believable. but - through the music/magic, they were able to communicate. 

i also considered using a line from ‘into my arms’ instead (I believe in some kind of path), since that was the song that the magic is cast on - but it didn’t work as well thematically. 

here’s the fic i wrote: Don’t Run and Hide (The ‘Where Words Fail’ Remix’)

and here’s the remix i didn’t write. i think i almost wanted to finish it just for the elvis gag. alas, alas.

I Just Want your Extra Time: remix, not written

BAZ

I don’t smoke as much as my father thinks I do. And I don’t drink – not usually. This evening, though, I’ve already had several glasses of champagne and I’m on my fourth cigarette, the second this smoke break. Because it’s that or go back inside. And I definitely don’t want to go back inside.

I should have known he’d be here.

Not that he was invited. Not that he’s on the guest list. Not that there’s any reason at all, in fact, for him to be here, except that my life is an absolute disaster. Today definitely not an exception.

If anything, it’s worse than usual. I thought I’d already hit bottom when Dev told me I had to ring our printers – in China – and get them to promise to ship one of our new titles three weeks early, as some idiot had sent the press release out with the wrong date. That was excruciating, but things seemed to be improving.

It’s a launch party night. I’m not sure why, but I always look forward to them, even though I hate crowds. (Niall would probably say, other people in general. And he wouldn’t be far wrong.)

But I get to wear a suit. (Tonight’s is Spencer Hart. Dark grey. Green tie.) And I know Snow is going to text after the first hour. And even though no one ever remembers to thank the editor – not unprompted, anyway – I do enjoy the satisfaction of knowing that I’m responsible for turning whatever dross we’ve been told to sell into something that could loosely be called a book.

This one is a cookbook by an actor (not a chef, in other words. I had to hire someone else to write the recipes and then we just photographed him next to the result.) It should be a triumph. It is – we’ve already sold several thousand copies. I should be enjoying myself. But then I heard a voice next to my ear.

“Baz.” And someone put a hand on my waist. “Don’t you look rosy?”

Not someone. Lambert. (I never called him Francois, even when we were intimate.) As irritatingly handsome as ever. And just as confident I’ll do whatever he wants.

I haven’t seen him for months. Not since he left me Las Vegas to go off with one of the better-looking Elvis impersonators. (And if that isn’t the most humiliating break-up story you’ve ever heard, then I really don’t want to know what is. Dumped. And for Elvis.) (Not even the real Elvis - not that it makes a difference.)

“I hoped I’d see you here,” he – Lambert – told me. “It’s been far too long.”

“Since you left me.”

He gave me a hurt look. “Baz. We said Auf Wiedersehen, not goodbye.”

“Who are you really here with?”

The author, of course. I watched their eyes meet across the room and Lambert smiling, before he told me it wasn’t serious. And that he’d be interested in taking me to dinner.

“Unless you’re seeing someone?”

I raised an eyebrow – even though I know Lambert knows I only do that when I can’t think of anything to say. Which means he probably knows the truth, which is that there isn’t anyone else. Not anyone else real, anyway.  

Which reminds me …

I check my watch – it’s later than I thought.

[flowesona]

Miasma

Setting: Renaissance Venice (1630-31)

Pairing: Namjoon x reader

TW: Graphic Descriptions, obsessive/ yandere behaviour

A/N: I’m so happy to have had to opportunity to work with the wonderful @jooniescupcakes​ on this fic in anticipation of our amazing leader Namjoon’s birthday! Please check out the version of this fic posted on her blog which has an exciting alternate ending!

The humid air of the mid-evening provided a somewhat pleasant stroll. It would have been serene, if not for the desperate cries of people fighting against soldiers. Their screams of mercy at Namjoon were ill-received, as he instead chose to avert his gaze, to see how the Venetian water rippled. He couldn’t bear to face these people, to answer as to why they weren’t going to survive. Prayers, smoking, even infecting oneself with Syphilis. Every cure people had dreamt up were based on fallacious dreams. And Namjoon hated to associate himself with such disparity, hated to see those at the lowest in society doomed to a horrific fate.

No one had thought so many would be lost once again when the plague that had last reared its ugly head centuries returned once again to Italy, causing mass panic in Milan the previous year before reaching Venice and letting Namjoon bear witness to the curse.

Yet instead of facing the hopeless souls, Namjoon tried to distract himself with the more optimistic side of things. The patients that he was about to visit had reportedly not experienced any major symptoms of the plague. Yet as he reached the entrance of the quaint ‘house’ crammed into the rest of the neighbourhood and simply reeking of poverty, there was still a feeling of dread in his stomach, that he wouldn’t be able to cure them.

Brushing all pessimistic thoughts aside he reached out and rapped on the door twice, his greeting being met with a cough and the scurrying of feet.

“Oh! Dottore! Please, come in.” A worn-out voice accompanied the face of a woman that was anything but.

“Buona sera. What seems to be the problem?” Namjoon ducked under the entrance of the shabby accommodation as he spoke, surveying the surroundings with an ever-keen eye.

“It’s… papa was spitting blood today. I was worried something was wrong.” The woman explained, leading the doctor through the cramped room into an adjacent room, occupied by a middle-aged woman dabbing at the forehead of a bed-ridden man with a filthy towel. A sight of great pity, an illustration of suffering.

“Has he experienced any other symptoms?” Namjoon went to place his surgical bag on the floor but had second thoughts upon seeing the blood and spit dotted around, instead cautiously placing it on the stained sheets with a grimace. There was no doubt this family’s living conditions were integral to the patriarch’s illness, but alas Namjoon was a doctor, not a charity.

“He’s got an awful fever, dottore.” The woman sat by the bed replied, still stroking her husband’s face to no avail.

“I see. May you two please leave the room, I need to examine him.” Both women observing the scene left the room, not before glancing back at their sick patriarch and the masked stranger ready to decide their fate.

“Can you stand up? I need to examine for any other symptoms.” The wheezes and grunts of the pauper sitting up in his bed were not a good sign. But what was far worse was the sight of a buboe on his neck, previously hidden by the tattered blanket but now in plain sight for Namjoon to see. And it was not a pretty sight.

Even as Namjoon approached and used his gloved hands to tilt the chin up so he had a better view, the truth was clear. He’d caught the plague, and he was going to die in a matter of days.

“For now, rest and some herbal incense is the best road to recovery.” was all advice the doctor could give. He’d never seen such things curing the victims, but it was the most relief he could give. A placebo, blaming the bad air for the disease when there was most definitely something more to it.

He left the room with a horrible feeling in his stomach, the truth a heavyweight on his tongue.

As soon as he stepped into the kitchen, the older woman instantly standing up and letting her chair fall onto the floor as she rushed to attend to her husband.

Namjoon took the opportunity to seat himself at the table.

“I have some bad news about your father, Signorina...?” He trailed off, realising that in his drowsy arrival he’d never learnt his patient’s name.

“Y/N. What’s a wrong doctor? Please tell me it’s just the flu or-”

“I’m afraid it’s a lot worse.” Namjoon pulled the rubber mask away from his face, letting himself breathe for a second without such construction on his face. He hated the sick feeling in his stomach from having to break the news, of already knowing this young woman’s fate.

“Your father has… there’s no easy way to say this, but he has the plague, blue sickness, whatever you wish to call it.” The doctor couldn’t even look at her face in shame. “The best you can do is pray that God has a place for you in heaven.”

“Wait, What?” All at once, the barriers broke and tears started falling from (Y/N)’s eyes.

“I’m very sorry. I must be on my way.” Scraping back the chair, Namjoon stood up to take his leave, to report the case and to find some devil’s drink to cure his mind of guilt but was held back as Y/N desperately took ahold of one of his hands.

“I’ve heard the screams of the people, dottore. Being trapped like rats or burnt alive isn’t fair. Please, you can’t do this to us!” The young woman searched for sympathy in any inch of his exposed face, finding his deep expresso-coloured eyes and giving him a pleading stare.

Namjoon felt like at that moment, refusing to do something would kill him. With how Y/N hung onto him like a lifeline, as she begged for him to save her from death, he found himself opening his mouth once again.

“It would… I don’t know if I can do that. If I don’t report it, you could spread the plague through your entire neighbourhood. We have to quarantine, it’s only what’s right for the people.��

“Since when did you rich people ever give a damn about ‘the people’?” There was a strange sense of familiarity in seeing Y/N sniffing as she spoke and the emotion behind her words, something that the doctor couldn’t quite place his finger on. Regardless of his strange nostalgia, he felt some strong feeling stir in his chest for change. He truly felt that he couldn’t just sit back and let this poor girl die.

“I… I know this is unorthodox but I could get you out of here. I’ll pay for a carriage and you can go to a better place in the country.” There was still some gnawing part of his conscience begging him to do more, but he pushed it down.

“And my family? Will there be help for papa in another city?” It was as if a light had been lit inside Y/N’s eyes and the strange feeling of nostalgia crept up on Namjoon, almost like deja vu.

But her hope was not long-lasting.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. He’d die on the journey, and there’s a high chance he’d die on the journey. The only way for you to guarantee your survival is leaving, and letting fate take its course.”

“But there must be something you can do! Some cure, some treatment you must have heard of, we’ll do anything. If you’re worried about the money...I’ll find a way to get it. Please, please help him.” Namjoon quietly watched the female plead, wondering how to appease her.

“I’ll see what I can do. There’s no guarantee for his life, I won’t promise you anything.” With a short and tense farewell, he slips on his mask and leaves the shaky house.

Namjoon looked up at the dark night sky, the twinkling stars laughing down at him at them, at all the people of Venice. Who else was looking at the same sky? How many were crying under the black blanket, which provided no warmth or comfort, as yet another loved one fell? The world saw this sight, but only Venice suffered so much under it.

If he kept staring at the warm glow of the full moon, maybe the cries would stop echoing. How long were they to suffer?

Then, his mind wandered to other things. The young woman, whose father he had just visited. It was understandable as to why she wanted him to keep quiet, but was it foolish of him to have surrendered? He had been hit with a wave of something, depressing but familiar, as he watched her pretty eyes. He struggled, even with all his knowledge, to put a name for it, and diagnose it.

He could, no, he should tell the authorities about her father, as it would prevent the spread of the plague. But this secret arrangement could also benefit him, it could be a way for him to experiment and possibly find some cure for this devastating problem.

He noticed his mansion on the horizon and picked up his pace, secretly eager to get home. The tiring job of trying to help people, only to watch them die, exhausted him and upset him. What was the point of being a doctor that could only give empty promises and bring news of death?

Unlike the streets he had just left, he lived in a cleaner and more quiet part of the city. Everyone here was swimming in money, but that didn’t make them any less of a target to the fatal and consuming plague. Many of the children stare from their windows, his large and strange mask attracting curious gazes and hushed whispers.

He had watched many people die, captured by the officials and burnt alive or, if they were too slow, the plague finished them off first. Namjoon had gotten used to the feeling of sadness, anger and disappointment, at this point, after all the deaths he had supervised, it was numb, part of a mundane routine. The thought of the young girl, looking at him like he owned the world like he could change fate, brought back these long-buried feelings in an unprecedented crashing wave, along with something else, unidentified.

———————————————————————

It was another messy evening, the blank sky ignorant to the screams and cries below. All the days blended together with the same sight, the same words, the same end. Namjoon was walking down the familiar path he took just a day ago, equipped with a new idea and a stronger determination. However, there was no certainty for success.

He walked up to the run-down house, glancing over the cracks he had missed in his rush during his last visit. He eyes the cracking paint and dirty windows, the tattered curtains not doing much to shield the inside. He slowly stepped up to the old, wooden door, sharply rapping at it thrice. He waited for a second, and the door swings open, the delicate female mumbling a small welcome with worry evident in her face.

“I...thought of something...to help with the buboes,” he glanced over to see her perked up, watching him intently, “it might not work, and it will surely hurt like hell, but its the best I have"

He curiously observed her changing emotions, happiness at first, hope glimmering in those twinkling eyes, mouth trembling, then disappointment, gravity tugging at the corners of her lush lips, eyes downcast. Finally, the last shine of determination, stronger than the soldiers lining up on the streets, brighter than the shine of the glaring sun.

It was that burning determination that made him remember.

Remember when he first fell in love with the sweet, pretty girl from his childhood.

The sharp jab of the nostalgia, the sudden waves of memories crashing against his confused mind, it was all confirmed when he caught sight of a small toy. It was old, blue and green patches on it, once bright, vibrant coats of fresh paint. It was a small dollhouse, although not in good condition, he noticed the shiny symbol, a logo of the best carpenter in the country. The door to the expensive creation was slightly open allowing little light and peeping eyes through, though it was not furnished. Maybe the fragile pieces had gotten lost over time, but the overall image was still obvious.

He bought that dollhouse, he gifted it to someone, his first love. It was a one-of-its-kind house, unique as every individual star. And it was expensive. Far too expensive for a family like this to even dream about. When he looked back at the female, lost in her own thoughts, he found himself observing her features; the familiar curve of her nose, the shape of her eyes, the plush lips.

Everything came back to him.

Those memories from years ago, when they were both ignorant, young and in bliss. Nothing mattered except themselves. He never knew how much her family struggled to put food on the table, and he never understood why she kept trying to return the gift. When he offered to get her a different house, she refused frustratedly, breaking into tears.

His parents had to explain to him what she was too embarrassed to say; that she wasn't as rich as them. She was poor, living at the bottom of the city's trash, and that was why she always wore the same dresses, and why she never had any toys.

Her family couldn't afford any luxuries. In short; they were completely and extremely different to everyone but themselves. He was born into a prestigious family, money raining down on him, and she had to crawl past scraps to survive.

Namjoon was appalled at the truth. He was angry that he couldn't figure it out by the subtle words and the obvious visuals. He didn't realize how much money, or the lack of it, affected them and their relationship. No matter what, society, with its cruel and cold hands, ripped them apart and forced them to stay away, each succumbing to their fate, only having the memories to hold on to.

"Y/N?" Namjoon forces out.

The female looks confused. Why did he suddenly call her name? And why did he look so shocked?

Inside, a cry of pain shatters the moment, and once again, Namjoon is forced to remember what he is here for. The patient, her father.

“I- maybe you should see my papa first,” she mumbles, gesturing towards the door, “thank you for coming again, dottore.”

Namjoon is once again escorted into the bleak, cramped room, a pungent odour drifting in the room. The closed window indicated that it came from within the room itself, though the doctor didn’t want to find its origin. The condition in which the patient, whose health was as fragile as a thin piece of thread, was terrible. He carefully navigated through the cluttered room, placing his bag with care onto the sheets, stained with yet another unknown symptom.

“I have come with a possible solution,” he spoke slowly, watching the way the older man coughed, scrambling to sit up, “but it will hurt, and it will not be a pleasant sight. If you wish to be cured, then sit quietly and bear the pain.”

“Y/N,” the man calls, waiting for the young woman to come running, “hold his legs tight, and do not let him go. I fear that in his painful struggle, he might strike me.”

She nods, holding onto her father’s scrawny limbs tightly. They watched silently as the doctor reached into his bag to pull out a needle, and a matchstick. He lit the small stick with a swift tug of his large hand. He carefully held the needle’s sharp point, letting the hot flames lick it hungrily. After a few moments had passed, he brought it towards the sick man, carefully aiming towards one of the large, nasty buboes, and shooting towards it with impeccable speed. His patient let out a silent cry in pain, tensing his arms more as hs daughter winced at the disgusting splatter of discoloured pus. This action was repeated again a few more times at all the bulging, taunting buboes on his thighs before moving on to the ones on his neck and groin.

The tiring and painful process took a couple of hours, and when it was done, Namjoon felt a sense of rushing relief. He left the room, reminding the patient to have a good rest. Back in the living room, he met Y/N, who was still curious about the earlier incident.

“You...don’t remember?” he asked.

The girl shook her head before offering him a drink in a cup, chipped away at the edges, “what am I supposed to remember?”

“I gave this to you...many years ago,” he carefully picked up the old toy, feeling the layer of dust that had settled on it.

“Namjoon?” Her eyes were wide open, gaping at him as he calmly smiled back, dimples showing.

“I admit, I didn’t think our reunion would be in such an uncanny situation, much less one so drastic. Have you been well?” He wonders what she was thinking about.

“I-things haven’t really changed much,” she says, eyes focused on stirring her drink, “but I see you’ve reached the stars.” her smile doesn’t reach her eyes.

Reached the stars. He knows what she was trying to imply by the line, but he also knew what he wanted to tell her. I reached the stars for you. The words are left unsaid, but the thought of it lingers. After finding out her distraught financial situation, Namjoon had pledged to earn a lot of money and save her from the horrible life she had grown up in, he worked hard to be able to provide for her, and spoil her. However, cruel circumstances had them torn apart.

“I suppose that’s one way to put it. Look, tesoro, I missed you, really, I didn’t think I would ever see you again after what my parents did.” He reached forward to grab her cold hands in his, enveloping the smaller fingers in warmth.

“But you understand why they did it,” she whispers, tugging her hands out of his grasp, “there’s no wa-”

“Who cares what everyone else thinks? There’s always a way. I haven’t forgiven them for what they did, but they certainly paid for it.” A gleam of something flashes in his eyes. Insanity, the female recalls. She remembered Namjoon’s streaks during their childhood. The same look would be in his eyes, and after, a moment of unfiltered feelings, terrifying, maddening actions. Although she couldn’t remember all of it, she did remember a time where he found sickening, sadistic satisfaction in dissecting a live animal. A small, pure creature, he had ripped apart.

“Can we just talk about something else? How long have you been a doctor?” She quickly changes the subject and they go on chatting for hours.

As night falls, the full moon peeks out playfully at the sombre city. Namjoon is walking down the streets, a giddy smile playing on his lips. He’s ecstatic after reconciling with his love. He’s even happier to know she hasn’t changed much, and still possess the same little quirks. The way her eyes light up when talking about something she enjoys, or her nose scrunching in disgust, her animated chatter had sent him to Cloud 9. He knew, that she was still so perfect, just for him. All that was left was to cure his father-in-law and impress him, winning his daughter’s hand in law.

Another joyous chuckle escaped his lips, slowly turning into maddening laughter. 

On the streets of Venice, there was not a more terrifying sound.

Namjoon worked tediously all night to make a cure for his newest patient. Although he had nothing to rely on, he had a theory that cleansing the buboes with a salve would help stop the plague spreading at the least. His salve was made of fresh honey and garlic, pounded and mixed well until it made a smooth paste. The smell was strong and sharp, but it was worth a try.

After packing the salve and putting it in his bag, he once again set off on the familiar path towards the house he had been visiting for the past few days. Seeing the girl greet him at the door made him more inspired to cure the man. He once again warned the man that the paste might sting or burn, before getting Y/N to hold him down again. Slowly, with steady hands, he applied the salve to where the buboes previously used to be.

It was a tiring process, the only sound coming from the whimpers escaping the older man’s mouth. A thin layer of sweat had formed on Namjoon’s forehead, as well as the two other occupants of the room, but with no proper ventilation, it was expected. At the end, he was more than happy to leave the congested room and into the less cluttered living room, where once again, a hot drink was waiting for him.

“Dottore, will he be alright?” the voice came from Y/N’s mother, anxious for his reply, “I can’t promise you anything. The results may take a day to fully show. I will see you then. Buona Sera,” he nodded to both ladies, his gaze lingering on the younger female.

———————————————————————

“Ciao, Namjoon.” The greeting from Y/N’s mother was a heartwarming one. She looked positively uplifted by his presence, hope shining in those starlit eyes that he loved in her daughter.

“Ciao, how are things?” The small abode had started to feel like home once again, as it had in those precious childhood years. Most would call the temperature stifling, made worse by derelict wooden walls, yet there was something comforting and cosy about the house. Maybe it was just knowing that Y/N was in the other room that made him feel so content even in such a bleak setting. Yet simply being there was not enough.

“My husband is well on the road to recovery thanks to you! I don’t know how we could possibly repay you, but rest assured we will find a way.” Namjoon hummed in response as he removed the protective rubber mask, the essential part of his uniform that he hated greatly, from the sickening scent of the herbs hidden in the ‘beak’ to the way it stifled him with heat.

“That’s what I actually came here to discuss. Is he awake?”

“Oh! Yes, yes, he should be.” The matriarch stuttered, feeling some intensity to his words that subconsciously brought shivers down her spine.

The doctor simply turned on his heel and entered the smaller room, immediately catching sight of Y/N by her father’s side. A smile worked itself onto his face seeing how everything was laid out perfectly for his plan to work.

“Signore L/N, I’ve been told you’re making a speedy recovery.” The two occupants of the room finally noticed their visitor, and with the way Y/N looked at him with a smile of joy plastered across her angelic features he was hook, line and sinker.

“Yes, yes.” The patriarch nodded to the best of his ability, giving Namjoon ample view of his neck to see the neatly dressed wounds were still in perfect condition.

“So, would it be possible for us to discuss the payment?” Seeing the discussion unfold, Y/N excused herself to assist her mother with the cooking of a hearty celebratory meal for the family.

Namjoon seated himself on the derelict stool previously occupied by Y/N, clasping his hands together nervously yet also in an intimidating move.

“I am in love with your daughter, signore. She is my everything, my anima gemella. I have loved her for the many years that we were apart, and I will love her for many more.”

“Well? Spit it out cucciollo, what is it you want?” His patient asked some gruffness to his voice.

“I want your daughter’s hand in marriage.” There was silence in the small room. “Living in this part of town is not right for her. If she’s my wife then I will be able to provide anything that she needs to live in luxury. Naturally, I can make sure you as her parents are-”

“No.”

Namjoon’s fist curled in anger as he persisted.

“I can give this family everything. I already have. Marriage is such a little thing to ask for when I’ve saved your life and asked for nothing else in return!”

“But I’m not going to sell my daughter off to be some noble’s plaything.” (Y/N)’s father snarled, using one weak arm to push his back straighter so he could be a more intimidating force against the doctor. “We have more pride than letting you run our lives like a puppet show, cucciollo.”

“You’ll regret this.” Namjoon left these last words hanging in the air as he stormed out, signing a death warrant for the family in his head.

As he snatched his mask up from the table, the two women in the kitchen exchanged nervous glances. The aura their doctor was exerting was simply deadly.

“Did you agree on the-”

“We’ll talk about this soon.” Namjoon’s deep voice almost sounded raspy, worn with emotion. “He isn’t able to cough up right now, but you’ll all pay soon enough.”

The slam of the door behind him was a signal of his rage. The doctor would certainly keep to his words, perhaps in a more literal sense that one would think.

———————————————————————

The loud banging on the door was a terrifying sound for the (L/N) family to hear, and soon the entrance to their fragile abode was burst open with a swarm of officers were in the home in a matter of seconds. The family of three sat up, confused and disoriented by the sudden intrusion, but this quickly morphed into horror as the patriarch was snatched up from his bed by two of the officers.

“What is happening? Unhand me, I haven’t done anything wrong!” He cried out, only to be interrupted by a deep chuckle.

“Yes you have.” The voice was familiar, and it didn’t take long for Kim Namjoon to emerge from the shadows. “You stole something from me.”

“If this is about-” The patriarch seethed, only to be stopped as the doctor held up his hand to signify silence.

“Right there officers. That dollhouse.” It was as if someone had set Y/N’s veins of fire. She couldn’t help but protest against the injustice.

“That was a present from him, from a long time ago! It isn’t stolen!” Namjoon cast his eyes on the young woman, and she once again felt the malicious power that this noble had as he smirked, shaking his head.

“You think I would gift a peasant family something so valuable? There’s no need to lie to protect your father, tesoro.”

As he spoke, his fingers traced over the faded design of the ornament, following every crack of paint until he withdrew his hand, instead beckoning another officer to take it away for him. And with that, Y/N’s father was dragged away simultaneously, his loud protests of innocence and begging of mercy becoming quieter yet still haunting the small Venetian streets.

“And what are you going to do now, tesoro?” With the emptiness of the house being quickly abandoned by the authorities, Namjoon’s voice cutting through the silence was an unwelcome shock.

“With your father in prison, there’s no way for you to earn any money to keep a roof over your head. Lest one of you get sick and you should need medicine.”

The women exchanged a look of fear. There was no doubt to the truth in his words, and knowing this only made the disparity of their situation worse. And seeing the revelation fall upon only made Namjoon prouder.

“It’s lucky I have a solution then.”

———————————————————————

Grime coated the walls of the jail cell, and rats scurried about the place as if they were the sole occupants. Yet their home was shared by a defeated older man leaning against the wall, eyes closed as if he could block out all other stimuli and just pray to god.

“See, this is no place for you tesoro.” Hearing a voice in the distance, the patriarch of the L/N family let out a moan of agony.

“Papa!” He opened his eyes to see his daughter clutching the bars of his cell, eyes wide with horror.

“Don’t touch those.” The presence of Y/N was marred by seeing the man who had put him in the awful cell in the first place. The man who, by the glimmering band on the young woman’s finger, was going to be his son-in-law.

“Papa, I’m so sorry that this happened to you. W-We’re going to see if we can get you in better living conditions, or maybe they’ll set you free. I swear, everything will be alright.” Y/N said, releasing her grip on the bars but not stepping away from the cage for a second.

“I can issue a pardon.” The L/N’s attention was diverted to the smug doctor standing behind Y/N. “But I’m not sure I’m quite ready to forgive you.”

Namjoon pulled Y/N away from her father, into his arms that trapped her in a paradoxically romantic gesture, as he pressed a kiss onto her pristine neck.

“Maybe your daughter will change my mind. But for now, we must be going.”

It was a bitter feeling to see his daughter be resigned as a mere object of the monstrous Doctor’s obsession, but the older man became distracted as his chest was captured in a wheezing fit, as when he drew his hand away from his mouth, he found spots of blood decorating it.

———————————————————————

Translations to Italian phrases used:

Buona Sera - Good evening

Ciao - Hi/Bye (a causal greeting)

Tesoro - Treasure 

Cucciollo  - Puppy (used usually by parents or to denote a rookie)

Signorina - Miss

Signore - Mister, Sir

dottore - Doctor

anima gemella - twin soul

[rosesnink]

The Cursed Heiress, Chapter 3: Consequences

A/N: This took longer than expected to publish! But it’s here and I hope you guys enjoy it! 

Summary: While Joanna experiments the courtly life, a dark force threatens her life. 

Previously: Prologue Chapter I Chapter II  

TW: Some violence. 

Word Count: 3861 

The day Joanna woke up, she looked at her fingers. She knew what happened: she was getting attached to a human, and soon, all she worked for would be gone. Forever.

If Elias taught her something, it was that everything came with a price. Even for half-bloods. That was living between two worlds. Two different legacies. Two ways of living.

She sighed as the clock ticked it was now dawn. She got dressed with her witch habit: high-heeled boots, a skirt with leather leggings, a short corset and a tailcoat that fitted her just fine. She descended the stairs where she embraced Elias fraternally: his gray eyes, his white, long hair and his dressing of the Tudor era with his headpiece, showing his role in the Circle.

“Elias, at long last. We don’t have much time before the Countess calls me upon the other ladies”

“Leave that to me. Now, follow me. I found a perfect spot for us”

The field was near a ruined castle, all the yellow and amber tones.

She looked at Elias and saluted him. Then, they faced each other, waiting for one of them to strike. Her staff was tight and magical, and his was but a simple staff. She decided to start it. She ran upon him and jumped high, preparing the strike and the accompanied spell. Elias barely dodged it, but it hit him. He striked and she blocked, sometimes dodging a high and low attack, her eyes never leaving Elias. He got her extremities blocked, but she casted a spell that sent him flying across the field and jumped with a backflip and grabbed his neck.

“How about we slow time so we can perfectly do this?”

“Anything to avoid sewing”

They both grabbed their arms and casted a slow time spell, and when everything went slow, they stared at each other.

“Again?”

“Though you’d never ask”

She threw away her staff and guarded herself, following Elias’s lead. He jumped high, and so did she, a protection spell on her. They both collapsed, but Joanna’s side won and she fell on the top of him, rolling across the field. They both jumped up and Joanna dodged a punch and kicked high, kicking him in the chin, gave him a left crochet, dodging his jab and attacking with a swing. She hitted him with a right jab and a needle, dodging his left crochet and kicking him in the ribs, then on the knee and casting a spell that threw him to the floor.

He laughed “Nice job, kid. I guess you’re improving”

“Guess? I am improving”

“Oh yeah?”

She smirked at him and helped him up and then casted a spell “Ventures” And sent him flying across the forest!

She ran for him in a minute and catched him in the Edgewater gardens, a proud smile on his face “Ha! Should’ve seen that coming”  

“You should, yes”

She helped him get up and brushed off the dirt and mud off his clothes. They walked across the estate, casting protection spells and warning of when someone with bad intentions, human or not, came in and out of the estate.

“You should really prepare yourself for the sewing circle. My power lasts that much, alas, I have matters to attend”

Joanna sighed as she nodded, a pained expression on her face.

“May I?”

“You must”

With a blink, he disappeared.

It was a nice day in the Royal Court of the faeries. Lamrian was all gold and glory, and the man hesitated before coming in. Once in the throne room, he bowed down the monarchs.

“Lord Elric. Lady Thalissa. I’m glad that you acceded to meet with me. Is your son well?”

“Tialo is just fine”

“But what do you want?”

“As you know, a half-blood lives among us. She’s half witch, half human.”

“We know. She seems harmless.”

“But you forget that she carries an important duty and that her birth means a big change in all our species”

“What do you mean?” Lord Elric seemed confused.

“She’s very powerful, my lord. So powerful it might mean the unification of all of us… or a real destruction of the supernatural world. And she’s getting close to a real darkness and I know who it is.”

“What do you suggest, then?”

“The same I suggested to the Alpha of the London pack and King Gaius… destroy the girl before her power increases. And the magician who is corrupting her”

As Joanna ran across the halls of the estate, damning Elias for a good breakfast before sewing circle, she could already hear the women’s giggles and conversations. She made a last sprint… slamming the door open and panting. She recovered her shape quickly and bowed in greet.

“Morning ladies. Countess Henrietta. A thousand apologies in my delay to our meeting, but my tutor insisted on a benefitting breakfast after some arduous lessons. However, that’s not excuse”

Some women were there. Miss Sutton. The Masked. A black woman with a rather dashing port. Countess Henrietta.

“We were wondering if you were too ashamed of showing up, but do join us!”

“Hmmph, lateness on sewing circle is unladylike-“

“That is a matter that you can discuss with my tutor and the earl since the agreement is between them, since you seem to have a say on my activities”

The Countess glared at her and watched instead her embroidery. She snorted “Your mother is a seamstress and yet you lack of an ability of sewing”

“It wasn’t in my raising activities, I’m afraid” But I can surely crack your skull like a wood stick.  

“Ahem, Lady Joanna, I see you haven’t been properly introduced to the ladies! This is Miss Donna Bowman” She whispered to her low, but Joanna’s impressive hearing did the job anyways “She’s the earl’s bastard, remember?”

“Ohhhhh, I see now!” She turned her attention to her with a smile as fake as her whole I Am A Respectable Woman dress. “It is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Lady Joanna!”

Call me bastard again and I’ll rip off your curls and make of them food for poltergeists, you rich scum “The pleasure is all mine”

“And this is Miss Annabelle Parsons of Hazelvale Manor” Continued Miss Sutton.

She took a look at her and smiled warmly “Pray tell, this is the beauty I’ve tampled the other day?”

Miss Parsons blushed at the compliment but stayed still on her composture.

“I am, indeed. Pleased to finally meet you, my lady”

She could see there was a major reason why she seemed different to other people, other ladies. But she wasn’t quite sure. But she’ll find out surely. She thought of what Elias told her about the mortal women: they were taught to find a husband, compete against each other and live for men. Joanna found that absurd. Why live for such a weak sex? Not that Joanna hated men, just most of them were quite manageable, manipulative and easy to control. Her mother didn’t even need to use the charm spell or a love potion. She just had to adjust her corset, unbutton a simple button, bat eyelashes and smile innocently and that man was at her mercy and command. The majority thinks about power, glory and make of women their instrument to produce heirs and keep their useless lives going on after they were ashes. Things weren’t like that.

In this world, kids were made nonstop, armies of them and all were sun and the moon, marrying them off with strangers with temporal money and glory, and women were sold off to old and rich lechers who had seven mistresses and carried bastards around the country. They gambled, smoked, fornicated nonsense and made money in the most stupid way. But she had to say, that Harriette Wilson mortal was giving them a lesson and she was there for it.

She looked again to her companions, sewing and talking, not noticing she had spaced out… At least most of them, for Miss Parsons was staring at her curiously. She looked at her back and arched an eyebrow “Trying to guess what’s on my mind?” She nodded “Any success yet?”

“Not at all, my lady. You’re an absolute enigma”

“At least I look good?” She teased her, leaning closer to her, a smirk on her face.

“I won’t deny it”

“I take this is your awful routine. Giggling ladies, talking about tasteless buffoons called men and sip tea?”

Annabelle chuckled “It’s not always that bad, but your presence makes it quite amusing”

“Oh, I try, but apparently it’s not proper, but why should I lose my sleep for some idiots who assume things that aren’t true at all to explain themselves some senseless things?” Joanna declared, observing some of the ladies.

“You have truly made up your mind about nobility”

“Miss Parsons, Lady Joanna, what’s that you’re talking about? It seems interesting enough to increase your voice and let us have part in it” Countess Henrietta said.

“Yes! Maybe I do have something to apport in this conversation!” Miss Sutton continued “I hate to be left out”

Even if Joanna wished to shut their mouths with a flock of her wrist, she contained herself and made up a well-rehearsed smile “Apologies, ladies. You all seemed so in your own world that I didn’t mean to impose. Miss Parsons and I were just getting along”

“Oh! We’d love to get along with you too! Don’t we, ladies?”

Please say no

“We do!”

She was about to say something when Elias busted into the room, looking worried. He scanned the room until he found Joanna and looked at her “Mills, emergency. Code Raines. Gather your things. Now”

Joanna’s breath catches as she remembers the Code Raines: Adrian Raines was one of Gaius’s soldiers and that meant he had brought some of his army to destroy despair and bloodshed all because he could. She excused herself to the ladies as an ‘important matter that couldn’t go supervised without her’ and she left a fire message to her father to stay safe and close the Edgewater manor until it were safe to open them. She jumped out of her bedroom’s window and charged her rifle with bullets full of holy water and her staff, a present of the high Colonel, that was touched by Angel Miguel. A caress of this and it could melt a vampire, but not kill it. She wasn’t like Gaius Sociopath Agustine. She checked the gardens and the surroundings of the manor. She felt a tap on the back and prepared a punch to the person. It was Elias.

“I’ll check out the other places, you defend your father’s manor”

She nodded as she held her staff tight, looking for any signal of a vampire. She looked around, and with a snap of her fingers, she was in a witch’s armor and with a few more weapons. She was about to inform Elias that it was all a scare when she heard a snap! And Gaius, Adrian all covered so the sun wouldn’t harm him and Kamilah Sayeed bursted out of the shadow.

“There you are, you sons of bitches”

She showed her staff as the vampires showed their weapons and ran straight at her, but she dodged two of them and saw Elias and another creature on her line defense. She found herself face-to-face with Adrian, a growl on his face “We’re here to kill you”.

“Good luck with that, fella” And she striked, dodging his attacks and striking as fast and efficiently as she could, using also her body as a weapon. She’ll stab him with the staff later. She dodged a punch and threw a high kick and then she hitted lower, making him lose balance. They rolled down the gardens and Adrian hurled her out of her grasp and she landed elegantly on her feet, her eyes now amber. She growled as she jumped high and kicked him in several places of the head and landed on her back and rapidly landed on her feet again, dodging another attack and kicked him hard in the chin and twirled her leg to kick him in the jaw, grabbed his attacking arm and twisting it, using now his body in pain to make a deadly spin all over his body and hurling him to the lake, where the bad-tempered ducks seemed positively offended by the intruder’s entrance. She got him out with magic and saw the perfect moment and ran, flexed her knees and jumped as high as she could to then fall like a rapid meteor, stabbing the holy staff on his ankle, making him screech of pain! She kicked him in the knee and broke three of his ribs as she saw how the vampire monarchs started to see the intensity of the sun and retired. She smirked at Gaius as he carried his creation and ran off, screaming that this wasn’t over.

“Anyone else who volunteers to kill me? No? Great, I need refreshments”

“Nice job, kid. You managed him just fine”

“I have a pretty good tutor”

They embraced as she yelled “It’s safe now, Father!”

The ladies busted out of the manor, perplexed. Countess Henrietta glared at her “What have you done?!”

“Countess Henrietta, considering that I saved all your asses for a big disaster and being some bad creature’s dinner, you should show me some respect or your corpse would now belong to some cult fanatics. De nada”

She heard the chuckling of Elias and her father and the giggles of the ladies as she winked at Henrietta and wiped off Adrian’s blood and headed to the mansion. She could feel all the looks on her as she changed and went to the drawing room, all the other ladies following her, expectant of what she’d tell them of the screams and sounds of battle outside. But she had already lied to countless mortals about this. She knew what to say and do to make them believe. Empty lies, sighs, a little of illusion magic on her skin and some occasional charm spell to fulfill the mortal’s constant and annoying curiosity.

“What happened outside, my lady? The earl was pretty distressed when you went outside and the staff locked us in! We couldn’t see a thing!” Ah, Elias, you smart bastard “We only saw shadows moving and then, something jumped high in the air and we heard the scream! It was unhuman!” Miss Sutton said.

“There were some rabid animals that we had to take care of and one of those happened to be a boar, so I attacked it in the air. A simple jump and a little scratch to scare him off, nothing else. We secured the houses in case it tried to attack someone else”

“And the third man?” Miss Bowman asked

“Some friendly backup that was passing by and jumped to help us”

“This is ortageous! Women who fight and take care of a man’s matter and with the help of some white-haired freak?”

She looked straight at Henrietta and the spell started to work on “I know your son could’ve managed it just fine, but he is unfamiliar with rabid animals and could’ve gotten hurt easily, alas me and Elias, who is an expert on these terms and have taught me everything I know, handled worst situations and made it safely. It was all precaution. And the screech was a boar I hurt badly to scare off, you know how these beasts are. You got it clear now?”

Countess Henrietta muttered against her will “I g-got it”

She smiled content “Good! Now, Miss Parsons, how are you so well acquainted with my family?”

Joanna walked through the outsides of the estate as she was engrossed by a big essay by Mary Wollstonecraft titled A Vindication of the Rights of Womans: with Strictures on Political and Moral Subjects. All she said and pointed did had a point and it was better explained than a man could never explain. She passed a chapter as she heard a familiar neigh. She smiled delightedly as she saw Clover and Mr. Harper walking around.

“Hey stranger. Clover”

“Reading a book, I see.” His eyes went wide in curiosity “A forbidden one, I see. Aren’t you afraid that they’ll catch you?”

She smirked at him “Not quite. I happen to be smarter than those brute buffoons. And how’s my beautiful Clover?” She neighed in happiness and she chuckled in delight “I’m glad that you’re alright. And you, Mr. Harper?”

“I’m quite good, taking a walk with Clover so she can breathe fresh air. Right, girl?”

The horse nuzzled her head against Mr. Harper and he petted her head.

“I heard that hours ago you took care of some rabid animals and injured one badly. I’d ask you if you’re alright but you’re unscratched and allow me the boldness, also radiant” Mr. Harper observed.

“Well, it was quite troubling. That boar was big and fast, but nothing I never mismanaged before”

“I’m glad that you’re safe and in one piece. I was concerned about your well-being”

Clover neighed in protest and Mr. Harper chuckled “I’m sorry. We were concerned about your well-being”

“It’s very sweet of both of you to care, but I can take care of myself just fine” Joanna chuckled.

“As much as I enjoy this conversation, I should get going” Luke sighed.

“Don’t let me stop you. I was about to go visit the forest anyways. See you around!”

She turned back where she was going but, in the way, she found her father.

“I see that you and Mr. Harper are getting along” He beamed

“Ah, yes, I find him a delightful company”

“I can see why. We’ve only had him for a year and yet I cannot imagine how the estate was without him”

Even if he was smiling, something seemed to be on his mind.

“Is everything alright, papa?”.

“Yes, it is. I was just trying to find the ideal words to tell you this: in a matter of days, I’ll host a garden party in honor to you and introduce you to society”

“Truly? It wasn’t necessary, Father!”

“I do think it is. I want everyone I know to see who is my daughter!”

She cupped his face in her hands and whispered “You know you have nothing to prove to them, right? Nor I”

“I know, but think about this as a friendly gathering to meet new people and-“

“Please don’t say new romance or I’ll hurl myself to the sun”

He laughed at his daughter’s disgust and squeezed her back “I wasn’t going to say that… exactly. Now, how was Henrietta in the sewing circle? I hope she wasn’t too cruel on you”

“Ah, where to begin…”

She was preparing for bed with Briar when she heard a knock on her door. Joanna looked at her body in her bath and with her view she saw her grandmother’s shape and opened the door with a movement of her finger. Briar curtsied and left them two in the room.

“Is this visit about the garden party?” She asked as her fingers underwater boiled the water and looked at her quizzically.

“It is and I happen to have the most wonderful news!”

She arched an eyebrow as she asked herself to read her mind or let her. She talked again before she could even decide “I just got confirmed that the Duke Tristan of Karlington is coming to your garden party!”

“And that’s good because…?”

“He wants to meet you, obviously! Isn’t it great?”

How could it not be a stupid, probably old man who had a meaningless title came to meet her and compete to have her hand in marriage great? It was utterly stupid. In the Circle, she’d surely be whoever she wanted without a man who followed her day and night. Or a person at all.

“I guess” She shrugged as she got up of her bath and grabbed a towel and started cleaning herself “But be frank with me, Lady Grandmother, how old is he?”

“He isn’t so old! He’s, like, 51 I think-“

“Pass”

The Dowager Countess seemed horrorized “My dear, don’t be so severe on him! In my opinion he is an agreeable gentleman and he has a title, lots of money and impressive lands!”

She turned her head on her and dropped the towel as she looked at her grandmother “Is that all you think about? Sell me off with an old lecher with money that won’t last, a meaningless title that will die in a matter of years and stupid lands? Where’s the longing, the passion, the mutual respect and my opinion on this matter? I don’t even want this life, I just want to be there with my father, not whoring myself to men who will never see me as their equal and losing contact with all I love! I cannot afford love, Lady Grandmother! I-I can’t!”

She digged her long nails in her palms as she breathed and steadied herself “I will not live to serve a man. I hate the idea of marrying for wealth and power and give a stranger unwanted children and endure that I will never be anything else but someone’s wife! I wasn’t raised like that”

Her grandmother was in shock as she processed all she said. Then, she collected herself as she pressed her palm to her shoulder, a little compassion on her eyes “I know you come for a different culture, but you’re now here and this is the only way to ensure a future. I know you don’t want it, but not all men are horrible: Mr. Sinclaire is a very respected gentleman, Mr. Chambers is surely a breath of fresh air and Viscount Westonly can be quite amusing with his hearing problems. We’re humans, we’re flawless, but I surely know you’ll find a man that will love you or grow to and knowing him, living with him, loving him will be the greatest of all adventures. In fact, let’s make a pact”

“Hm. I do love pacts”

“You’ll meet all of them and spend time with them, and if within a year you still think they’re all, ahem, tasteless buffoons as you say, we will not mention marriage and we will see an alternative to make of the Edgewater state a still good state.”

After a few minutes of cavilating, she nodded and shook hands with her grandmother “We have a deal. Now tell me how you court in here and what I’m about to endure, I need to know the territory”

“I was fearing that you wouldn’t be at all interested! Allow me to explain you the art of the fan”

And with that, they talked about boys and fans and courtship until the hour grew late. Joanna repeated to herself ‘Play their game, make them fall for you, but never fall for them’. Yes, that’d be her plan. And no one will ruin it. She won’t make the mistake of her mother. History wouldn’t repeat itself.  

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Tagging: @lorirwritesfanfic​  @missameliep and @hellospunkiebrewster​ @kamilahsqueen @marlcasters​ @mrsnazariowalker​ @amomentofsinclairity​ @princess-geek​ @lovemychoices​ @eiko-helena-kamilah-medusa​ @i-put-the-sin-in-sinclaire​ 

[gyromitra-esculenta]

Even If the Waters Rise 1/3

Talked myself into Mermay. But it’s Shadowrun based mermay with (something that resembles) plot. Mermaids are now metahuman, and, boy, do I have the issues with Sea Dragon’s design. It got 6k words on the first chapter.

Also, warnings for the whole planned thing: blood, gore, and violence; cannibalism (human on metahuman); questionable jokes and questionable totem choices; ambiguous relationships; referenced limb loss/cybernetics/etc; mating cycles.

(...)

Later, the deep throbbing bites on his back, shoulders, and neck almost manage to take his mind off the itching under the sleeves, the kind anything but scratching the skin off whole does nothing for. The bites, they should bother him more but feel only right, as does the thumb following the line of his spine, up and down each bump, ceaseless, building the pressure up and then letting go. Jack has to wonder as he drifts off if it's one of those times Gabriel will stay until he wakes.

He does. Looking with the usual neutral expression when Jack gulps for the air, the lingering vague memory of drowning but not sinking while something gorges itself on his flesh with little bites tearing him apart fading slowly.

(...)

Coming off the sedation after being cut was always a mixed bag. This time, though, the bustle of the street outside filters in slowly, rising like a wave over the ocean of static and breaking when the stims start doing their job.

The first breath is always the hardest, some kink in the lungs that kicks them into filtration mode each time the loss of consciousness occurs and demands focus from Jack to consciously switch back into the atmospheric intake.

"With us again?"

"You tell me, you're in my brain."

"Being obstinate will net you no points," Sombra mentally scoffs. "The pain?"

"No worse than usual."

"Arms up. Good, neural's working with no lag. And thank you very much for that kick, the legs are doing fine too."

"All?" Jack looks over the utilitarian metal surfaces of his limbs, the make and the model different from anything else he has seen on the market.

"Now, yeah," Sombra winces, pulling the plug out. She doesn’t need it but had told him once there were times she felt safer working with one. "For final calibrations, I need more data, so let's slap synthskin on those."

"What are they, anyway?"

"Scrubbed milspec, last year's model, or so I'd been told."

Sombra directs the assistant. Each applied sheet of layered synthskin gives Jack a lurch of unpleasant sensations before settling into annoyance, tension, and oversensitivity. A dance he's familiar with - a day or two before the brain puts a dampener on the sensory input when it integrates properly.

"I know why you're doing this for free, but why is he spending so much on this?"

Sombra flinches.

"The last batch you got rid of was worth more than those."

"It won't stop the demand, only the price of the meat went up."

"And the ability to process it for consumption went down. You know what's my take on it," she signs something on her pad. "Anyway, have fun tonight. I'll get in touch with you tomorrow to finish the calibrations."

"Not seeing much of a difference now," Jack pulls on his clothes, mindful of the temporary sleeves making sure the skin stays in place. "Tell me I won’t control and crush anyone."

"Implemented mental blocks. No limiters, so they can over-perform and get bricked, too."

"Taking bets on when I brick them?"

"Honestly!" Sombra throws the pad at him and Jack deflects it into the wall - looking back to her with a sheepish grin as it falls to the ground. "Too slow. Also, I don't want to see you in the professional capacity for at least half a year, but I'm giving you a month."

"Not very generous, and you're making me think you don't like it in my head."

"I don't, it's a jumble there since..." She stops herself, glaring daggers at the assistant who, granted with the rare ability to read the room, makes himself scarce - finding something urgent to do in the back.

"Since the glorified accident at work I don't even remember, seriously, five years, it's enough to stop treating me like I'm going to break about it." Jack pulls up the hood. Sombra's thinking about something, her brows drawn together in a worried frown.

"Aren't you curious?"

"Not really. Nightmares are a clue enough that something took out a lot of bites, and really, can't blame them, can I?"

"That's enough." She sends him a slightly nauseated look. "Scram now, have fun."

"Do you think he will tell me where he got milspec from?"

"He didn't tell me, so he's not going to tell you."

"But you've got an inkling how he got it."

"Maybe." She waves him off and Jack rolls his eyes, shrugging. Needling her for information has never worked before, anyway, and probably never will.

"See you when I wreck those."

"Fuck off!"

In less than an hour, there will be no trace left of her inside - and of Jack himself - the room is already being stripped down as he makes his way out of the basement up the concrete stairs with walls covered with dangerous amounts of mildew. Pushing past a corner stall encroaching on the doorway, he picks up a wrapped piece of barely seared meat waiting for him and waves his bracelet at the chit reader.

The air is wet and salty, like waves on the harbor, not even the smells of the market drown it out. The corners of his lips curl up at the thought tomorrow, or the day after, he'll be back out there, out on the sea, taking a dive into its depths, water everywhere, below and above, invisible current carrying him on its whims. Jack hails down the cab, the smile still on his face.

It remains there even twenty minutes later as he gets off by the hotel, both far too expensive and far too cheap at the same time. Too expensive for his own tastes, too cheap for Gabe to rent a room in it. Alas, here they are - and he sends a quick text.

'I'm coming up.'

Almost to the top, feeling vaguely claustrophobic in the humming elevator thankfully bereft of the usual muzak (apparently some taste did come with the money, but not enough for the interior to keep consistent style), he gets the customary message back. 'Open.'

Jack lets out the breath he's been inadvertently holding in when the doors open and he's left in the corridor, looking for the right entrance. A suite, of course, worth a chuckle as he walks inside, the only source of light the city's glow coming in through the windows.

And Gabriel, of course - again - standing with his back to the window, the only discernible features of his in the dim the almost glowing red irises and the white markings creating a vague outline of some animal face. Dramatic asshole, as usual.

"Show me."

The tone of authority and ownership demanding obedience - the order itself - coming from anyone else but the man who one way or another did own everything that made him, would have Jack snarling and pouncing whoever dared to speak to him like that. Hearing it from Gabe, though...

"Not even 'hi, how are you' or 'greetings, mortal'?"

Jack rolls his eyes, stripping down completely out of his clothes, leaving them lying on the plush carpet as Gabriel comes closer. Always smelling faintly of the deep ocean, or rather, of how Jack would imagine it to smell if it did.

Fingers dig around the edges of the sleeves on his shoulders, feeling the joints underneath, moving down to repeat the same around his hips. Synthskin sends confusing signals, not quite the pain yet, and a pinch of irritation.

"Looks fine."

"Will you tell me how you got your hands on last generation's milspec?" Gabriel ignores the question - no acknowledgment of it being asked even - as he's wont to do. Instead, he picks up a pillbox from the dresser. "I still got them."

"I know. You're dosing too low."

"Orgasm in a pill seems a bit too convenient." Jack massages the joint of his shoulder, moving to the bedroom. The carpet, probably soft on any other occasion, scratches his soles. "And a bit awkward."

"A fortunate coincidence of it interacting with your physiology."

"Yeah, coincidence. You're sure it's not another leash to keep me on?"

"If it were, you wouldn't be able to skip a dose. I'd make sure of it."

"I'm pulling your leg. I rather suspect you wouldn't do that, or would you?" Jack climbs the bed and props himself on the pillows - eyes focused on the single pill held between Gabriel's fingers, tracking it as he puts it in his mouth advancing - crawling over the covers, and Jack himself, with the grace of a predator playfully stalking a prey he knows cannot flee, the kill only a formality decided beforehand.

Drowning, always drowning in those eyes, black sclera and red irises blurring together into one, always looking too deep into him until he feels they don’t see him at all, his tongue brushing against sharp pointed teeth in an open-mouthed kiss, electricity traveling back and forth the nerves of phantom limbs with the speed of light coming to stop in a single burst leaving him breathless and shaking under Gabriel.

"Dutiful boy. You deserve a prize."

Jack chuckles at the first trace of any emotion in Gabriel's voice. The possessiveness is never truly gone, it's as much an integral part of him as are his looks, but there's a note of fondness giving Jack the incontestable impulse to almost preen: lower his lashes and incline back his head, hand sliding along dark red lines on Gabriel's arm.

"She's going to touch up off this."

"Are you worried about your privacy?"

"I'm used to having none with her. That was," he inhales sharply, feeling the bite on his collarbone, "for your benefit. I can see now you don't mind."

"I do not."

Jack merely snorts, rolling over and promising himself again to figure out Gabriel's trick with the clothes, there one moment and gone in the next, probably magic, but if he ever had any spark himself it was long lost with all the work done on him since the accident. Blunt as a troll's fist, this one.

Not that he has the ability to dwell on it while getting drilled into the mattress.

Later, the deep throbbing bites on his back, shoulders, and neck almost manage to take his mind off the itching under the sleeves, the kind anything but scratching the skin off whole does nothing for. The bites, they should bother him more but feel only right, as does the thumb following the line of his spine, up and down each bump, ceaseless, building the pressure and then letting go. Jack has to wonder as he drifts off if it's one of those times Gabriel will stay until he wakes.

He does. Looking with the usual neutral expression when Jack gulps for the air, the lingering vague memory of drowning but not sinking while something gorges itself on his flesh with little bites tearing him apart fading slowly.

"Lungs are still giving you problems."

Bathed in the sunlight, Gabriel looks as striking as in the darkness - minutely less dangerous now, however surface and not representative of his true nature the impression is. Regal. Focused on the multitude of holoscreens floating in the air before him.

"No. Not really."

"You were choking."

"Only a bit." Jack stretches, still feeling relatively boneless and exhausted, sticky with perspiration, too tired yet to consider the shower to be a genuine need right now. He slips off the bed only to retrieve the wrapped meat from the pile of discarded clothes in the other room and climbs right back into it.

"It's almost raw," Gabriel mentions when Jack's well into a third of his snack.

"Yeah. I'm finding it's not that bad at all, all things considered. Are you going to comment on my obviously poor dietary choices?"

"No. I'm rather curious about why would you consume it raw." A note of amusement, rare as it is, floats in Gabriel's voice. Jack shrugs.

"Started as a fucked up way to get closer and understand them better, and it grew on me. Not like I'm doing it a lot, wanted to treat myself tonight. Want some?"

To his astonishment, it does take Gabriel's attention away from the screens, as if he's considering the offer seriously - not that Jack would mind - and he leans in, hand trailing on Jack's shoulder for a moment and coming away with blood on the fingertips. Which he licks off.

One of the bites must’ve opened.

"No."

"Shit," Jack chuckles, pulling knees closer to his chest, resting his arms on them, just looking. "Could you just tell me what you are?"

"No. Probably never will."

"Suit yourself then, Knife-ears."

Soon afterward, Gabriel disappears in the bathroom and emerges back fully clothed, the suit so plain and unassuming it has to be worth its weight in diamonds, at least - and leaves without a word. Nothing about it bothers Jack, really, that's the only way he has ever known him to be: someone who's either rich or influential enough to never have had to conform to any social standards so they're like an alien concept to him. If anything, it tickles Jack's ego, the fact Gabriel spends both money and time on him regardless of his inscrutable reasons for it. And even if the time is scarce, the money comes in sums so high Jack’s not going to bother trying to figure the specific amounts out.

With a sigh, Jack plugs into his own pad, trying to ignore momentary vertigo any kind of connection, even the shallow one, gives him - waiting for Sombra to get to him. If she wanted anything from him, she always found him the second he jacked in.

The mental equivalent of a giggle has him rolling his eyes.

"You can say it."

"Boy, did you get screwed silly."

"I feel like I got some of my brain matter fucked out, that one's a freebie."

"What the hell are you eating now? Feedback from your tastebuds is giving me shivers."

"You too?" He bites off another chunk.

"What are you eating?" Sombra repeats, the tone akin to the one used towards a pet that definitely got into trash or picked up something suspect on the way.

"Almost raw meat."

"Interesting," she says after a pause. "Anyway, I'm done."

Jack flexes the free hand, clenching and unclenching his fist a few times.

"Not seeing any difference."

"You shouldn't because I know how to do my job. Also uploaded keys to the blocks, the data on the job, and you've got incoming charter on the roof in five hours."

"So I do have time for a bath then," he hums, smiling.

"Knock yourself out, I'm leaving you alone, you get weird in water."

"Thanks, Som."

"No biggie." Her presence warms up before blinking out, leaving Jack to sort through everything she's left behind both in, and on the pad. Processing plant, the floor plans from several flybys, one drone shot down by a spirit, two points of entrance, Genji on the spot, Jesse and him coming from the water with a few hours to spare, full carnage.

Jack smirks, pulling out the plug. Just how he likes it. He moves to the bathroom, the alarm set for two hours.

The bathtub is nothing spectacular, at best a tight fit for more than two people - still a fancy one with an array of controls barely anyone bothers to use. He picks the temperature and plays a bit with oxygenation and flow. Jack lowers himself into the water slowly, the cold playing havoc on the still sensitive synthskin. The nonexistent heat regulation of milspec freezes his joints with pain. All par for the course as he exhales before submerging in full.

And then, he breathes the water in.

The surface breaks with the remnants of the air pushed from his lungs. It's a poor man's substitute for the real thing but the pressure and the dampened hum of the surroundings, however dissimilar to a swim in the ocean, bring his mind some respite.

Running down the pier barefooted with the warmth of the sun on his back - jumping - the whiplash of the impact - diving deep, to look back from below at the light glimmering on the waves, the rays reaching for him - the hands reaching for him from the depths and pulling down.

With the sound of the alarm, Jack jolts up to a sitting position, coughing out the water. Another bout gets rid of the rest of it from the lungs, and he changes the temperature. The bath heats almost immediately.

The dream changes, but the ending remains always the same.

Head leaning against the rim of the tub, before properly washing, he spends minutes motionless except for the occasional shiver until his core warms up. Remaining two hours Jack idles away eating a late breakfast and not really watching some show on the holo while sprawled in the bed still smelling of sex.

Moving to the pad grants him some suspicious looks he can't fault people for because he does stick out here in his clothes like a sore thumb - and then surprise as his bracelet lets him pass through the gate and into the waiting Osprey with rotors running hot. A waste to use the craft fitted for carrying almost forty personnel merely for him, but he's not the one paying. At least, there's room enough to stretch his legs and to think very hard on how much he's unafraid of flying, his stomach doing backflips as it takes off.

The fact the crash might have been involved had occurred to him long ago.

Fifteen minutes in, Jack gives up and reaches out to Sombra, for which she ridicules him mercilessly but keeps him company. Getting angry helps to take his mind off of how fucking terrified he is. Even if he could run fucking laps inside the cabin, the changing tilt reminds him he's in the air, and the moment Osprey touches down three hours later, Jack's out like there's a pack of devil rats on his heels, relieved to have solid ground back under his feet.

Jesse, holding his hat down against the draft waves at him. The coyote stitched on his serape seems to stretch and yawn with the fabric moving, probably does so in truth, but Jack can never tell.

"Lúcio's finishing on the sub, we're going to drink tonight, coming too?"

Jack looks to the harbor and shakes his head.

"Not this time. I'll check the gear and maybe go for the swim."

"Dude, no, not in this water, trust me. Too much industrial, and many critters out here. Best case, you'd break out in boils after a dip."

"Can't be that bad."

"Well, Lúcio says that a pyramid had been hit hard some months back, there's been some runoff and an uptick in critters. Really want to chance it with whatever's in the water now?"

"Guess not." Jack shrugs, walking away from the powered down craft towards the only building on the pier.

"So how's about that drink?" The coyote on the red cloth sits down and scratches its ear. If he were to associate Jesse with any other spirit than it, he would be hard-pressed to find anything fitting.

"Pass. Just don't get in trouble with the locals. Or old pals."

"Hey, don't bring up my stalker vampire ex, the next time I see 'er, I have a stake with her name on it." Jesse throws his hands into the air, pausing in the doorway, letting Jack pass him.

"You know it doesn't work on her."

"It will slow her down."

"If you manage to stake anything vital."

"Oh, I will, because this," Jesse points to himself with a wide smile, "is absolutely irresistible to her."

Jack laughs, eyeing the crates set up inside.

"Yeah, there's no accounting for taste."

"Dude, harsh. Anyway, that's yours."

"Everything's in here?"

"I wouldn't know, I try not to touch your shit," Jesse gives an exasperated sigh while digging in his pockets for a cigar, the coyote snapping at it as he puts it between his lips. "Well, see you in the morning, dude," he adds before turning around. Jack nods, moving his attention to the boxes and working his way through their contents.

The story behind the coyote Jesse tells is as outlandish as the man himself, and a question for the ages of how he wasn't rad-insane or sporting another head. Yet.

In the German wasteland (the only place on earth one could be a real cowboy anymore, Jesse insisted), drunk off two shit beers because his ex fed off him earlier, and high on some local shrooms, staring at the dying campfire, the coyote came to him and took him on the trip. Jack would gladly chalk it up to alcohol, hallucinogenics, radiation, and exsanguination, all working in synergy - if not for the hard fact the coyote itself was very real, and as helpful as it turned out to be an impediment, or a bother, the other half of the time.

Methodically, Jack picks out the gear - the rest going back to their crates - and then he double-checks the selection, looking for any identifiable problems and defects. When he's finished and satisfied, it's well into the wee morning hours. He drags a random deck chair to the end of the pier and lays down in it. The city, as small as it is comparable to the majority on the coast, doesn't sleep - there is no escaping the lights and the sounds - but in his chosen spot overlooking more water than the land he can doze off.

If either Jesse or Lúcio notices him gasping for breath as they finish loading the sub, they don't mention it.

"I'm not hauling your shit," Jesse gestures to the container Jack left outside, by his chair.

"Hi, man," Lúcio smiles. "Also, I dig your new set, what's the specs?"

"You'd have to ask Sombra for technicalities, I'm only using them." Jack stretches, there's a kink below his left shoulder blade he tries to work out by rolling it. Almost manages to, too.

"Cool, will do. By the way, he tried to throw hands only once."

"Dude. Squeal much?"

"It's called being the responsible one," Lúcio shrugs and Jesse groans in response, muttering something sounding suspiciously like 'don't need a chaperone'.

"Sub's all ready?"

"She's right up purring now, the lady she is." Lúcio's eyes light up. "Nothing left to squeeze out."

"I'll hold you up to it." Jack gets up and drags the container to the sub, the box grating on the concrete, and brings it into the cabin, pushing it behind the seats.

"Oh, man, do that, love to see the data after you push her."

"Will do on the way back. Jesse, inside."

"That wasn't me sleeping when me and Lúcio were breaking our backs," Jesse snarks sliding into the pilot's seat, knowing well Jack's impatience and what they will use the spare time for. He doesn't mind, usually.

"Good hunting, guys." Lúcio mock-salutes as the hatch seals.

Before they're out of the harbor and submerged completely, Jack's out of his clothes, save for the boxers. Despite the sub being state-of-the art, with two people in it gets hot inside in less than an hour.

He starts on the sleeves, peeling them off slowly.

The synthskin underneath is still oversensitive, but no longer tries to overload his brain with conflicting or extreme stimuli. It just feels like blanched with boiling water and any negligible otherwise touch almost painfully tickles.

"Kinda creepy, like a snake's molt."

"Note to self, I look better with my skin falling off my frame."

"Hey, I'm just stating the bare facts. Fuck, ew!" Jesse leans away to evade the sleeve Jack waves in his direction. "Dude. No. That's uncalled for. I'm driving, I could crash us."

"Into what?"

"I'd find something!" It's either a threat, a promise, or a commentary on the nature of Karma.

"Out of the two of us, I'm the one who can breathe underwater, so..." Jack lets his voice hang as he reaches for the pillbox he left on the shelf earlier. It's a short debate if he should take one because even if he could take them as he felt like otherwise, risking going into implant rejection on the job was far from reasonable. As soon as the aftershocks fade, Jack leans back into the seat, lazily watching the water on the screen.

"And that's also creepy as fuck," Jesse comments, sounding a bit more somber. "You look like you just got your dick sucked off, every time."

"Honestly? Feels like it, every time."

"And you know what makes it even fucking creepier?"

"You're going to tell me and I can't stop it."

"Because this shit looks goddamn miraculous and I may have helped myself to some," Jesse begins, waving one arm in the air and Jack mutters that of course Jesse fucking did, "and they fucking don't work. And you know what's in them?"

"Not that interested as long as they work."

"It's people, dude."

Jack sends him a blase look.

"And you ate it."

"Yeah, but I didn't go looking like I creamed my pants after that."

"It's for implant rejection, so it only makes sense it has reconfigured genetic material in it. Also, do not eat my drugs, it's people."

Jesse grimaces.

"Dude, you made it sound weird."

"I made you getting into my stash of pharmaceutical drugs you personally can't get high off sound weird?"

"Dude, it's even weirder now. How do you do it?"

"What?" Jack chuckles. "You mean, use my brain, sometimes?"

Jesse mutters some expletive under his breath and Jack closes his eyes leaving it without comment as the whole chat makes him revisit more or less cloudy memories of the first months he's spent either half-conscious because of pain, or half-conscious because of drugs and pain.

At least, until the pill, and the moment when the pain finally went below the...

"Amida Bongo Christ Almighty!" Jack turns immediately at the sound of the genuine panic in the voice to see Jesse try to become one with his seat, pushing back with his feet against the floor, pointing at the screen where a shadow in the water comes into focus, massive, gliding with deliberation. "Of all the fucking things to run into, the Sea-Fucking-Dragon... we're all gonna die."

Jack kills the engine in his stead and swipes at the screen, focusing the image. He can't deny his own heart is hammering in his chest when he lets out the sigh of slight relief while trying to ignore Jesse's doom-saying.

"It's not her."

"What?"

"It's not her. Doesn't look like her, and it's much bigger."

"That's supposed to help us exactly how!?"

"Take her five hundred to the left," Jack, already climbing over the back of his seat and almost falling in a hapless heap on the container in the process, barks at him. "I'm going out."

"Are you fucking serious, dude? Of-fucking-course, you are!"

"Chance like this isn't going to repeat itself!"

"A chance to get fucking eaten by a dragon?"

"That too!" Jack locks the airlock behind himself and fits the propulsion module as it fills with water. There's no time to wait for the slow pressurization. When there's no air left inside, he forces the emergency release, pulling himself to the outside, and pushes away from the body of the sub.

"Dude." Jesse, switched to the comms, sounds appalled compared to the earlier panic, which is considerably better for the situation. "Did you just lewd a dragon?"

"Maybe possibly." Jack smiles, cutting across at an angle. "Remember, five hundred, match speed, if I do get eaten, go silent and wait, rendezvous with Genji, do the site rep, and then decide what you do."

"You're literally the last person who should give orders."

"Next to last. You're even less qualified."

"True what they say, the truth hurts."

The dragon is massive, its form much more suited to the open ocean than what footage of Sea Dragon there is shows of her. He's yet too far to discern if it has limbs or only the fins. It moves with a misleading slow grace, the powerful twists of the wide tail propelling it forward. Getting caught in the vortex of the currents pushed with each beat could be - is - deathly dangerous.

Smaller shapes swim with it, congregating around the middle part of its body.

At first, Jack takes them for merrows, they're known to attach themselves to big predators and form codependent relationships, but it's the perspective lying to him. They're bigger, more agile, gleam occasionally with reflective scales. A brood of young, maybe? If yes, the endeavor is even more foolish than in the beginning, but even that won’t deter him from undertaking it.

Two of the smaller creatures break away from the formation as he gets closer and approach, their tails swishing wildly in the water. Mermaids. Mermaids traveling in a pack with a dragon. Not something he had expected.

They're coming both from the above and the below, a male and an older female, judging by the scars and veils, still colorful but ripped and missing pieces. It's hard to keep up with their rapid movements. Jack curls his hands and legs to his body as they circle him.

"Please, don't bite," he tells them. "There's almost no meat and you will probably break your teeth on me."

The mermaids observe him warily. The female chirps once and turns back, the male following in her tow. She's green and yellow, the pattern reminiscent of the stripes on a perch or other fish known to thrive in greenery. When no light catches on her scales she blends with the deep green agate hue of the water, but Jack wonders if she's maybe better suited to sargassum forests. Her partner, on the other hand, with his solid canary yellow, stands out like a sore thumb - at least until both of them gain distance and rejoin the group amid some agitation from the closest mermaids, the reactions playing out like a change of direction in a school of fish.

It's his first close encounter with live mermaids since the accident, and he has been judged as neither a threat nor a meal. In this moment, Jack feels some of the rush bleed away, allowing him to slip into simple sensations, focus on them, and appreciate them: the steady pressure of water against every inch of his skin, the additional tension in his scalp when his hair, however short, drag with each movement, the cold seeping into him from the inside, the weightlessness - even if he knows his limbs would pull him much further down.

The ocean is far from silent - never silent - full of sounds he can hear with his ears, and the ones he cannot - he hears with his whole body - the symphony of the dulled hum of static and single notes played on different instruments, not unlike the sounds of traffic in its structure.

His eyes drift back to the dragon.

It's foolish. It's not borderline suicidal, it's just plain old suicidal. And he won't let a moment like this slip like air between his fingers.

Hand on the controls of the drive, Jack resumes the approach.

The dragon looms closer, its body at least thirty meters long from the tip to the tail, probably more. He can now see its limbs tucked close to the underbelly - the fins reminiscent of underdeveloped wings.

He swims parallel to its head, advancing.

Bone-like white crest covers its front. The black scales, even if they seem to have an inner shine to them, appear to consume the light voraciously. The dark red lines streaking along the sides twist and mold with each move of the powerful muscles hidden underneath.

Jack's heart does not fit into his chest, so hard it hammers against his ribs from the inside - with fear, with excitement, with awe - and that's before the low rumble resonates within him as the dragon opens its eyes, one after another, five of them on the side he's facing - each an abyss of darkness ringed with glowing red slowly focusing on him: an insignificant speck in comparison.

"God. You're beautiful."

No. It was a worthless descriptor when applied to the apex predator wrought with raw power both physical and not.

Sublime.

The dragon disregards him - its eyes swivel to look forward - he cannot fathom expecting to keep such creature's interest for longer than this. But it's also an invitation, he's considered to be harmless, hence nothing to bother with, and Jack slows slightly while swimming up. Above its bulk, he notices some mermaids just clinging to the body, clawed fingers curled around the edges of the scales. Stupid, again, but he is going to try the same: hitch a ride on a dragon.

The thought is intoxicating, sends his mind reeling with unsuppressed glee.

He dives forward, his fingertips brush the hard surface - with caution he digs his fingers underneath the scale - the other palm he lays flat against it as the propulsion module switches off.

Jack pulls himself closer against the current, that rush of underwater wind. Never has he wished for his limbs back more than now, to touch and feel with his real skin, not even when the bones that aren't his anymore burn with that deep ache that sends all the thoughts skittering away with no control. Instead, he pulls flush against its body, forehead pressed into the scales, each contraction of the muscle below them felt intimately.

At the moment, he doesn't count time, not until another rumble, one he feels against his skin, makes him realize almost two hours have passed.

He looks back to see the mermaids otherwise swimming try to grab onto scales as it continues. In the front, what he took for vestigial wings - the fins - slowly unfold to reveal skeletal-like frame filled in with dark ethereal filigree straining on the currents.

It's a profound kind of sadness Jack feels loosening his grip. Drifting - falling - sinking - away.

The wings spread and angle. The dragon's back winds up like a spring.

Then it soars underwater, deep in the ocean, each beat of the wings carrying it further away into darkness.

The rush of water pushed by the dragon sends him spinning. Jack instinctively curls his limbs to his core to wait it out, losing all sense of direction in resulting vertigo. When it stops, it takes him a while to orient himself, the leviathan nowhere to be seen anymore.

"Jesse, it's safe to approach. Can you get to my signal because I'm fucking lost?"

"I see you," the response comes with a delay. "Coming from your general six. Dude, do you know how much is the footage worth?"

"It's worthless." Jack turns around with a few kicks.

"All would kill..."

"You can't put a price on it, it will put a price on your life." He can see the incoming lights blinking for his benefit as they draw near. "And you want to put out there a proof of a dragon that had remained away from the public knowledge until now?"

"Fair, even I'm not that stupid. I think. With the way you put it."

Jack swims towards the sub and grabs one of the railings, pulling himself towards the airlock. Minutes later, he climbs into his seat, dripping water everywhere.

"Got what you wanted outta that one? Besides getting eaten?"

"I think I've found god," Jack smiles, genuinely. It's a memory he's going to treasure, one unlikely to be eclipsed by any other in the foreseeable future.

"You going to be one of them dragon-worshipping freaks? I've heard things, and none good, I say."

"Not like that."

"So," Jesse turns his head to look at him. "You want to dick down a dragon."

"When you get down to it," Jack starts carefully, eyeing Jesse with a certain degree of suspicion, "yeah, basically."

"Heard about that one club you can meet one, violet eyes and..."

"I don't want to dick down a dragon, I want to dick down this one."

"Okay. It's important to have goals in one's life. I'm not judging."

It's at this point that something about a much earlier conversation occurs to Jack and he stills before covering his eyes with his palm.

"Jesse?"

"Mhm?"

"When you said you have a stake with her name on it... Did you mean your dick?"

Jesse raises his eyebrows, makes finger-guns with his hands, and goes for a pithy imitation of 'badum-tss' sound.

"You fucking moron." And Jack can only laugh.

[thebibliomancer]

Essential Avengers: Avengers #207: Beyond a Shadow...

May, 1981

“After countless centuries HE LIVES AGAIN! THE SHADOW LORD COMETH!”

He cometh riding upon a tornado like its a mighty sand worm. What a guy, this Shadow Lord.

Honestly seeing the Avengers tumbling about in a tornado cracks me up every time. Especially Wonder Man who looks nonchalant about it aside from being ass over head.

So I don’t think we’ve really talked about it but this period of Avengers is kind of between main writers.

Since issue 200 and its four writers, we’ve had David Michelinie and Roger Stern on the two-part adaptation of that Ultron novel, David Michelinie for that weird story with the Crawlers in the sewers; Jim Shooter, David Michelinie, and Bob Budiansky for the Yellow Claw two-parter, Bill Mantlo for the everything is on fire story and now Bob Budiansky and Danny Fingeroth for this issue and the next. We start getting a consistent writer again starting in #211.

I wonder what was going on behind the scenes around this time.

Anyway, onward.

So we start the issue with who I assume is the Shadow Lord. But he’s not riding a tornado, like Pecos Bill. He’s standing on an invisible ocean structure of some kind. Apparently a mysterious invisible ocean structure of some kind that hasn’t been seen for almost two millennia.

And yet, someone has kindly painted the title of the issue in English on the mysterious invisible ocean structure of some kind.

Some guy, maybe the Shadow Lord: “The dreaded time has at last arrived, the moment I prayed would never come... the moment I knew would surely come. He is soon to return, and only the power entrusted to me is capable of stopping him. And even that power may not prove sufficient.”

“With every passing second, my city and myself pass ever more fully into the Earth’s plane of existence. Would that the cause of my return here from the barren vastnesses of the Shadow World was as joyous as the glow of this new day’s sun.”

“But the grim responsibility of an entire race is my unwelcome inheritance. It is a duty I cannot shirk. Alas, I must take what comfort I can in knowing that no matter what the result of the coming debacle, I will at least be free to rejoin Ayshera, she whom my heart holds most dear... though whether our reunion will be in celebration of victory -- or in darkest mourning for the ashes of this planet -- none willy truly know until the final battle.”

Some Guy sure is helpfully monologuing his entire life story here. And even so he manages to be vague, inside his own mind, about the nature of the threat he faces. Way to preserve the mystery, Guy.

Also, he’s from the Shadow World so he may be a Yugioh.

Anyway, as one might expect, a city appearing in the middle of the ocean out of nowhere is of alarm so US aircraft carrier Poseidon shows up and starts yelling at Some Guy.

Some Guy decides that they sound mad but he doesn’t have time for lengthy explanations so instead he gestures and the winds and waves start whipping up.

Welp! Seems like the US Poseidon is going on an Adventure!

Meanwhile, Mt. Vesuvius!

Yup. Its that kind of story, the kind partially set at Vesuvius.

Some archeologists are digging in the foothills of the mountain in what has been a fruitless several weeks of archeology but one of the archeologists finds a hand shaped object which may be a hand.

They mistake it for a statue at first but realize its actually a perfectly preserved lava mummified corpse.

And while they’re busy congratulating each other about how wealthy and famous this discovery will make them, they fail to notice the hand moving its finger shaped fingers.

And elsewhere again, the best damn thing.

A cowboy shouts “SLAP LEATHER, YA GALOOT!” and then gets shot by a cannon.

This isn’t the Wild West of the America, this is a spaghetti western film set and the director is very upset at Black Bart’s shitty death acting. How hard is it to get hit by a cannon and then to fall down and pretend to die like you just got hit by a cannon?

You wouldn’t think there’s a wrong way to get shot by a cannon but you’d be wrong.

Simon Williams, Wonder Man: “I’m sorry, Mr. Bertolini. It’s just that, being Wonder Man, it’s hard for me to pretend those cannonballs are hurting me when I can hardly feel them.”

Mr. Bertolini: “True, signore Wonder Man, but I hired you because I thought you could-a act!”

Oh yeah, Mr. Bertolini talks like Mario. So that’s another tally for Marvel’s respect of other countries and cultures.

Aside from this being the seventh take on a ‘guy gets hit by a cannonball, beefs it’ scene, cannonballs are expensive. The cannonball that bounced off Wonder Man’s midsection looks fine but maybe you can’t just reuse them.

The filming breaks for lunch and Wonder Man wanders over to where his moral support is.

His moral support, of course, being Beast.

And he is moral supporting but he’s also multitasking with some women because even in Italy, women are just fascinated by blue fur. Furries are universal.

Wonder Man doesn’t feel supported though and this lousy spaghetti western film is a good opportunity for him.

If you remember, the last project we saw him get was as a cheetah print leotard wearing muscle man on a kids show and he got fired for making the host Uncle Elmer look ridiculous.

(Revealed to Simon’s chagrin in #194, lost to mishap in #201)

Being in an actual movie, even a spaghetti western, is the boost his career needs.

(I think we need to confront the actual possibility that Wonder Man is not a very good actor. But he might be a good stunt man if he can learn to act like things hurt)

Wonder Man’s publicist Rachel Palmer shows up as well and wow. Rachel has never appeared before and given the fillery nature of these chaotic no consistent writer times may not appear beyond this story. But you instantly get the sense of their working relationship.

And they have good banter too.

Wonder Man: “Wait. There she is -- Rachel Palmer -- the apple of my eye, the light of my life, the bane of my existence!”

Rachel: “If you delivered your lines that well in front of the cameras, Simon, you might actually keep this job -- which’ll make it just a little easier to hype you as a star back in the States.”

Wonder Man: “Your encouraging words are a constant source of inspiration, Rachel. But I’d appreciate it if you’d confine them to your press releases.”

Rachel: “You’ve got me all wrong, Simon. I hope this whole thing turns out well for you. Really.”

Wonder Man: “And for yourself. After all, if you make me a big name, you can ride along on my coat-tails and become a media hotshot -- instead of being stuck as a flak for Grade D Westerns.”

Rachel: “No, Simon. I--”

Wonder Man: “Forget it, lady. I’m a big boy. I know that all’s fair in love -- and show biz.”

And then he walks off towards his trailer, satisfied at getting the last word with someone whose job it is to make him look good. Beast says that he thinks Wonder Man was too hard on her and that Rachel probably digs Wonder Man.

Wonder Man: “Maybe you’re right. But I still can’t get over feeling that Rachel’s motivated by sheer self-interest and everything else places a distant second.”

(I’m pretty sure she does dig Wonder Man because unbeknowst to Wonder Man and Beast, she follows them to the trailer, wanting to convince Wonder Man that she’s not as self-serving as he thinks and also to invite him to a romantic dinner)

Anyway, Wonder Man’s social life isn’t important. At all. And not right now. Because when he and Beast go into Wonder Man’s trailer and discover the Avengers’ emergency signal briefcase is BEEP BEEPing.

It’s Cap and there’s an emergency situation that demands immediate investigation.

A brand new island city has just popped up in the middle of the Mediterranean slash off the coast of Majorca from out of nowhere and the government wants the Avengers to investigate.

Presumably the US government.

Because if I know anything about mysterious island cities appearing from nowhere - and I know exactly one thing - by jingo, they start wars!

Beast is enjoying his vacation so asks why the US Sixth Fleet doesn’t handle it instead. They’re actually paid to do things while on an ocean. But Iron Man just says that the fleet has had problems.

And with a little reading comprehension we can guess what problems. Because we’ve seen it. Its not a mystery.

Iron Man has a Stark plane sent to pick Beast and Wonder Man up and fly them to Majorca. Or somewhere thereabouts. I don’t know if Majorca has or had an airport.

Wonder Man bemoans that he’ll never be a movie star if he keeps leaving the set to go have exciting comic book superhero adventures.

Which is a little like complaining about being too handsome. Ya jerk.

And remember how Rachel Palmer was peeping on them? No? Scroll up a little and look at the above panels again. Back? And remember how Rachel Palmer was peeping on them?

Her media senses are tingling and telling her that she should definitely go check out the city that appeared in the middle of the ocean. She’s much intrepid for not a reporter.

Meanwhile, some slice of life filler fluff that doesn’t matter but that I find delightful.

And if this liveblog isn’t about sharing things that I find delightful then what is it about? Exhaustively recounting plots to comic books from decades ago? That’s just a side benefit!

The call to action back at Avengers Mansion comes right when Wanda is having Vision move a couch.

Vision: “Wanda, while it may be true that I am capable of moving this couch about all day, it seems a gross misuse of my android abilities to do so.”

Wanda: “Maybe if we just move those shelves then you just put it down there. We’re Avengers, not interior decorators.

This is the content I eagerly crave.

So back in not America, Beast and Wonder Man complain about the plane ride but passing over the ocean they see what trouble the Sixth Fleet was having.

Some Guy, Possibly Shadow Lord managed to strand the Poseidon aircraft carrier fully on a deserted island.

And I was wrong about the plane taking them to Majorca. Its apparently taking them to Poseidon because it lands on the ship’s airstrip so the two Avengers can consult the stranded sailors about what the heck is going on.

Captain Paul Garrison tells them that they were investigating the mysterious new island/city (not mentioning that they were also yelling at it) when a tidal wave suddenly swelled up and carried the Poseidon several miles and left it on this island.

And apparently the same thing happened to any other plane and ship that attempted to approach the island. Thwarted by winds and waves.

Damn you, nature!

Anyway, its all rather mysterious but Wonder Man figures

“Well, we were sent here to investigate. So... let’s investigate.”

And Wonder Man rockets off to investigate the city. While giving Beast a piggyback ride.

Which. Amazing image. Bless this issue for its bounty of amazing images.

Bear in mind that the captain said that the aircraft carrier was carried several miles. Wonder Man’s belt rockets have impressive duration considering he can’t be carrying much fuel on his person.

When they reach the city, they find a localized hurricane hovering right above it. But Wonder Man just flies down through the eye of the storm to get to the city.

Some Guy Shadow Lord is surprised because he had been expecting big boats and planes. Not a guy with rocket pants and a blue gorilla riding on his back.

But he’s able to shoo them away just as easily as any big thing, with a wave of his hand summoning a wind that carries Wonder Man and passenger Beast away from the city.

Meanwhile, Rachel Palmer is also here. She spent all her money renting a plane and then a boat but she’s going to get to that mysterious city and get an exclusive inside story!

So is she a journalist? Or what? She’s Lois Laneing but as far as we’ve heard her job is to convince people they want to see Wonder Man do stuff in movies.

Wonder Man spots her and tries to fly to her rescue but two water spouts spurt up to ruin this rescue plan.

The first one launches Rachel’s boat into the air and smashes it to pieces. The second blasts Wonder Man out of the sky preventing him from saving Rachel from falling to her death.

But unseen by either of the Avengers, a strong breeze safely lowers Rachel to the ground of the city.

Because what is an Avengers comic without men developing weird and intense feelings for a nearby woman.

Some Guy: “How beautiful she is, how like my own Ayshera. And, also like Ayshera, she is courageous... and more than a little headstrong.”

Cool. I hope this doesn’t get weird. Or that we’re not asked to sympathize with a guy whose only ‘sympathetic’ trait is a possessive attraction to a woman. Looking at you, Living Laser. And, I guess, Graviton.

Anyway, Wonder Man doesn’t see Rachel getting rescued by an airbender so he works himself into a lather.

Wonder Man: “That sinks it! It’s one thing to attack naval ships and planes... one thing to attack Avengers... But when he kills an innocent woman who could do him no harm -- that guy’s gonna answer to WONDER MAN!”

Honestly, I think you’re selling Rachel short. I’m sure she could do harm if she put her mind to it.  Like, what if she covered him in bees. That would suck.

Anyway, Wonder Man rages through the city’s protective winds and then gets SAFUUSH!’d between two walls of solid water.

He’s left sputtering and disoriented in the ocean. At least until some hooks hook down from the Quinjet, hook Wonder Man, and then hook him up into the ship.

I didn’t know that the Quinjet had hooks for grabbing people out of the ocean but I am thrilled.

Ideally, the Avengers would use their newfound ability to vaudeville hook people into orbit more often. I can think of so many instances where it would be useful, or at least hilarious.

Anyway, Wonder Man apprises the other Avengers into the situation.

Meanwhile, not dead Rachel Palmer wakes up and finds the Shadow Lord brood slouching in a chair and watching her while she was unconscious.

She is alarmed that he’s just sitting there staring but he basically goes ‘DON’T WORRY I READ YOUR MIND TO LEARN YOUR NAME AND LANGUAGE’ and then decides to explain his entire backstory.

Shadow Lord: “The city in which we stand is the Shadow Realm and I... I am called the Shadow Lord!”

DAMMIT I KNEW HE WAS A YUGIOH!

Anyway.

THOUSANDS OF YEARS AGO! Give or take! An ancient tribe decided to move to an island to isolate themselves from “primitive, superstitious neighbors who feared [their] more advanced society.”

Off to a good start with this guy.

Free of the mundane concerns of living in a world that hated and feared them, they were able to peacefully ALL BECOME WIZARDS WHO COULD CONTROL THE FORCES OF NATURE.

Maybe the X-Men are onto something.

So the Shadow Lord’s people learned to control, winds, waves, earth, and maybe fire so what I’m saying is that it was an entire island of Avatars.

Boom, sequel idea. Give me millions of dollars, Nickelodeon.

“Though veiled in mystery, rumors of our existence spread throughout the world. We were feared and shunned by the other peoples of the Earth -- which allowed us to continue our studies undisturbed.”

“Those who mistrusted anything they could not comprehend... they called us witches and sorcerers. Those who knew and understood us called us... the Earth Lords!”

“For centuries our sole purposes were to augment our knowledge of the Earth’s forces and to maintain the natural balance between these forces. Otherwise, we had no interest in the day-to-day affairs of the outside world.”

Maybe I was wrong about them being Yugioh. Maybe they’re the Time Lords from the Doctor Who.

Anyway, the Earth Lords were happy sitting on their island being Avatars but over the eons they sensed a disturbance in the Force, for I must reference all the things.

"Over the eons, we became aware of a seemingly immortal, human force of awesome destruction, one who could potentially plunge mankind into an irreversible slide to its doom.”

“Singlehandedly he could destroy towns. With an army beside him -- countries. Time and again, he did. It was when he finally joined the legions of Rome at the peak of the Empire’s power... that we first feared the balance of nature was in danger of being destroyed. Rome could forever take over the world.”

The Earth Lords tried on several occasions to destroy this menace. We don’t get to know what constituted these efforts and that’s disappointing because of what the final successful attempt was.

By 79 AD, they knew he was on the slopes of Mt. Vesuvius so they caused it to erupt, just to bury this one guy under hundreds of tons of rock and ash and lava.

Mission accomplished.

Except for the little thing where the eruption of Mt. Vesuvius also wiped out Pompeii and Herculaneum and other cities people know significantly less about, killing over 20,000 people.

As things go, that’s pretty dire amount of incidental deaths to kill one person. And the Earth Lords realize that this was a pretty major fuck up.

So they decided that they couldn’t be trusted with their powers and that they would disperse into the outside world to live and die as people do and have their powers dissipate over the years.

But before they did that, they discovered that the seemingly immortal guy they hit in the face with a volcano was somehow still alive somehow. Just trapped. Under hundreds of tons of rock and ash and lava that cooled into rock.

They killed thousands and didn’t even permanently kill the dude they were trying to kill? That’s pretty incompetent. They really can’t be trusted with their power.

Since he eventually might get out and resume being a dick, the Earth Lords drew lots and chose one of their number, the Some Guy later known as the Shadow Lord from the Shadow Realm, to forever watch over the city alone and await the day that the immortal guy would again walk the land.

And to help him solo the dude that took an entire city of people and a volcano to deal with, the Earth Lords concentrated all of their powers into this one Shadow Lord guy and taught him how to send himself and the city into a twilight plane of nothingness which is back to being called the Shadow World.

So this might also be Twilight Princess.

For two thousand years the Shadow Lord in the Shadow Realm in the Shadow World observed Earth and waited. And now, it seems that the seemingly immortal dude is back.

Rachel: “But I don’t understand. How can one man threaten a whole world -- and live for thousands of years in solid rock?”

Shadow Lord: “This is no mere man, my dear... this is the Berserker!”

And speak of the devil and we scene transition to him because we scene transition to Pompeii.

The lava mummified human figure that seemed to move before has stopped beating about with finger twitches and has gotten up to rampage around and backhand archeologists.

Don’t feel bad though. They were in it for the money and fame, those fiends.

Back at the city of Shadow Realm, the Avengers suddenly show up as a full team and basically enter swinging. Iron Man even blasts a wall for no reason.

Rachel tries to tell the Avengers that Shadow Lord means no harm but the Avengers can’t hear her over the sounds of Wonder Man loudly reassuring Rachel that they’re here to rescue her.

Iron Man exploding a wall for no reason probably also didn’t help.

So Rachel instead tries to tell Shadow Lord that the Avengers are a force for good. While he can hear her, he chooses to ignore her.

Using his powers of being the Avatar, he tries to pull a rocks fall but nobody dies. Rocks falling is something the Avengers deal with panache and also lasers and punches.

Some panache. Beast’s skycycle gets hit by a rock and he ends up leaping onto one of the spires of the city to avoid crash. And then, like a cat who climbs a tree except its a building in this context, Beast has a hard time figuring out how to get down from there.

While the larger Avengers punch and laser boulders and jump onto spires, Wasp just flies right in and shoots Shadow Lord in the eyebrow.

Amazing. Another good use of Wasp powers, being able to get in close while the opponent thinks the team is distracted at a distance.

Shadow Lord is none too pleased to be shot in the eyebrow by a tiny insect-sized flying woman and decides that a particularly karmic punishment is required.

Shadow Lord: “An insect-sized flyling woman! What sorcery is this? But if an insect you be, then it is only fitting I ensnare you in a cocoon of living wind... a cocoon which will grow and envelop your so-called fellow Avengers!”

And as Rachel still pleads with Shadow Lord to knock it off, he summons a giant tornado that suck in all of the Avengers (save Beast stuck up on his spire).

Shadow Lord even has the tornado carry him along, the better to continue mocking the Avengers as he carries them to their doom.

Shadow Lord: “You hopeless children! Did you actually think to defeat me, to deter me from my purpose? I who who command the earth and wind themselves to do my bidding?”

Yeah, dude. Definitely not sounding like a supervillain now. Cannot fathom why the Avengers are assuming you are one.

Iron Man manages to escape the tornado by firing his boot-jets at maximum, sending him flying free with a SHA-BOOSH! but also carrying him far away because momentum.

Shadow Lord then creates a whirlpool in the ocean and has his tornado carry the Avengers towards it. The whirlpool goes to the bottom of the ocean. Which then cracks open to reveal bubbling magma.

That’s right. The Shadow Lord is going to shoot them out of a tornado, into a whirlpool and into magma beneath the ocean floor.

Its. At least more precise than hitting them with a volcano, I’ll give him that. Definitely feels like overkill to go from rocks to tornado-whirlpool-magma execution but its definitely more precise.

Somewhat more precise.

Because when Iron Man manages to slow himself down to turn back he notices that a yacht is being swamped by the waves Shadow Lord is churning up.

And because of heroism, he takes the time to scoop the yacht out of the ocean and rest it safely on an island.

Geez. There’s a lot of boats being beached in this story.

Shadow Lord actually sees this. And a thought starts penetrating his thick skull that maybe he should have listened to Rachel.

Shadow Lord: “The armored one paused in his attack on me to save those people -- innocent people... which is more than we were able to do 2,000 years ago. Perhaps, as Rachel says, they are not agents of evil...”

He decides that he’ll stop throwing them out of a tornado into a whirlpool into magma but he doesn’t get the chance to put that train of thought on the tracks.

Beast waves Iron Man over. From his perch on the spire he’s noticed that the building he’s on is cracking from the strain of all the power Shadow Lord is throwing around even though he’s not been throwing it at that building.

So Beast deduces that the city is key to Shadow Lord’s power in some way and should have the shit beaten out of it.

And as Iron Man starts punching some wall, Shadow Lord doubles over in pain and the tornado he was about to dissipate dissipates.

The other Avengers get free and decide hey, follow the leader.

Jocasta: “The battle has truly just begun. Malevolent power such as this must not be allowed to exist. We must follow Iron Man’s lead and destroy the city -- totally!”

So unnoticed by the Avengers as they level the city into a pile of rubble, Shadow Lord staggers and swoons at Rachel’s feet.

But even dying, he still has some exposition bottled up.

To be fair, he’s been isolated for 2,000 years with no one to talk to.

He explains that the powers of an entire population of Avatars was way too great to be contained in one squishy mortal body so the powers were instead imbued in the city itself.

And with the city destroyed, it can no longer serve as a source of power and also can’t keep him alive anymore.

He’s honestly not too broken up over it. Since the Avengers are valiant and worthy, they can pick up his unfinished business while he goes and dies and gets to reunite with his girlfriend who died sometime during those 2,000 years.

Shadow Lord: “But please understand... I am as much to blame for today’s events as anyone... I bear you no malice... we misjudged each other. I have done my best... no more can be expected of a man... perhaps you will succeed... where I have failed. So do not mourn my passing... for me, death is but the long-awaited door that opens to my beloved... Ayshera.”

And the Avengers realize belatedly ‘we done goofed.’

“A sad -- and confused -- group of heroes grimly watches the passing of the Shadow Lord... and only then does the cruel truth reveal itself to them: what they had thought to be one of their greatest triumphs is instead... one of their most bitter defeats.”

Oh, and as I expect they’ll soon find out, the Berserker has been kicking the Italian army’s ass near Pompeii so that’s probably escalating into a bit of a situation and they just accidentally killed the guy who could have helped with that. Although in fairness, he deliberately ignored Rachel when she told him that the Avengers were heroes.

Like he said, he fucked up too.

Still, while its a bit of a Marvel tradition to have mighty misunderstanding fights, I don’t think they tend to result in people dying. One for the history books.

Next time: the Berserker.

Follow @essential-avengers​. Also like and reblog. And send me Avengers triumphs that are way more impressive than beating up a city.

[honeymoonjin]

A/N: Sorry for the wait! I’ve finally got some semblance of plot sorted out so that I don’t write myself into a dead end. And thank you for your continued support on this story! This chapter is 2.5k.

LOST IN TRANSLATION ↳What do you do when you have no qualifications but want to see the world? You help teach English in a Korean primary school, apparently. ↳Principal!Jin, math teacher!Yoongi, PE teacher!Hoseok, English teacher!Namjoon, school nurse!Jimin, art teacher!Taehyung, and science teacher!Jungkook.

CHAPTER FIVE ↳You learn a little more about the unorthodox way Principal Kim runs the school, and begin to start getting closer with some of the staff there.

“Cheer up, Hoseok,” Jimin chimes, “you stole Min’s food for a week and a half. You only have to eat plain rice for three days.”

Coach Jung eyes the scowling math teacher nervously, picking at the grains of steamed white rice. “At least I gave you other food, Yoongi. This isn’t fair.”

The man sniffs. “Did you guys hear something? I think it was just the wind.”

Hoseok groans. “Come on! Somebody please give me something with a little flavor! Jungkook, there’s no way you can get through all that pork yourself! Give some to your hyung.”

“You know I can’t do that, Hoseok. I’m just as scared of Teacher Min as the rest of us.” Yoongi raises an eyebrow and Jungkook just shrugs. “What? We’re all intimidated of you.”

“I don’t think the new girl is intimidated of me,” Yoongi corrects. “Are you, Y/n?”

You glance up from awkwardly maneuvering your chopsticks around the noodles that had been piled onto your plate. “Hm? What is this word?” Namjoon leans over and translates quickly. “Oh. I am not very. He is not scary.”

“Maybe if she could understand Korean well enough to understand my insults she would be scared, but alas.” Yoongi sits back smugly, enjoying all the best parts of the shared lunch that had been deferred to him as an apology.

“Anyway,” the principal cuts in, “I think the real tragedy here is that Hoseok won’t be getting his raise after all. Who wants to try for one next?”

Taehyung shakes his head morosely. “It’s not healthy to be pitting your employees against each other for your entertainment, especially not when their salaries are on the line.”

Seokjin purses his lips. “Seems like an extra thousand won an hour might cheer you up.”

The art teacher sets down his chopsticks delicately. “What would I have to do?”

“You know what you have to do.”

Taehyung screws up his face. “Yah, seriously? For the last time, I’m not going to paint a portrait of you! You’ll just hang it up in the reception.”

“Of course,” Principal Kim replies breezily, “where else would I put it? There’s certainly no more room on my walls at home, not when I’ve already got that one you painted last year.”

“Oh, god,” he groans, pressing his fingers over his eyelids, “don’t remind me. I can’t believe you convinced me to paint you nude.”

“And who’s the best paid teacher in the school, huh? That’s what I thought.”

You clear your throat lightly. “Uh, I maybe am not understanding, but you get more money if you do these, um, these games?”

Hoseok, sick of his unsatisfying lunch, drops his chopsticks and puts his elbows up on the table, leaning towards you. “Seokjin is a cruel master who has developed his own version of the Hunger Games and he pays us not according to our ability and hard work, but to how much we benefit him.”

“Correct,” Principal Kim affirms. “I think it’s a great process.”

You find yourself becoming more curious. “What have the teachers done before? For more money.”

Taehyung buries his face deeper into his hands at that, and Jimin just pats him on the back, smiling sweetly at you. “The first one was Jungkook. He wanted more money for a school trip and so Seokjin promised to fund the trip if Jungkook wore a shirt with his face on it the whole time.”

“I still have that shirt,” Jungkook muses, “Someday, when the kids start learning about energy and combustion, I’m going to burn it.”

The principal winces. “If you don’t want it, give it to me and I’ll wear it.”

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of,” Jungkook counters, “I have to destroy it before it falls into the wrong hands. Like Frodo and the ring.”

“Are you calling me Gollum?!” Seokjin cries in outrage.

“Sexy Gollum?” Jungkook offers. Principal Kim nods thoughtfully and relaxes his shoulders. “Anyway,” Jungkook continues, “we’ve done things like that a bunch since then. Sometimes it’s secret missions, sometimes it’s public displays. Depends on what Seokjin wants you to do. For example, Jimin had to wear a slutty nurse costume on open day last year.”

Instead of being embarrassed like you would’ve thought, Jimin beams proudly. “A one hundred thousand Christmas bonus for one day. It’s not much, but it’s honest work.”

“Oh, put a sock in it,” Hoseok fires across the table, “you just liked the way your ass looked in the skirt.”

“I do recall,” Jimin announces, “everyone liked the way my ass looked in that skirt.”

You chuckle at their antics. “I want more money, too. Can I wear a skirt, and get money?”

Seokjin hums his disagreement around a mouthful of rice, cheeks bulging. “No, no, you can’t do something you’d do anyway, and besides, I can’t pay you more money since you’re on a government contract.”

“Come on, hyung,” Yoongi interjects, having been eating in content silence for a while, “give the girl some extra coin. I want to see what she’s willing to do for some pocket money.”

Seokjin swallows his mouthful, tapping his chin. “I’ll think about it,” he promises, “I need to come up with something good.”

Namjoon scoffs. “I don’t think you should be getting her involved in this, Seokjin. It’s irresponsible.”

“She asked for it,” the principal defends. He turns to you, waving his metal chopsticks in your face. “Any talents I can exploit, girly?”

You shrug. “Speaking English is good. I don’t know about more things. I am university soccer team.”

“Hmm, good at soccer? That’s not much to go off, but I’ll think of something.”

Hoseok sighs dramatically, pulling all the attention back onto him as he stands up. “I’m going to the store down the road for some snacks. Anyone want to come?”

“No!” You jump a little as Yoongi yells out passionately. He gets out of his seat too, stomping over to the taller man. “It’s only steamed rice for you for the next three lunches, Hoseok. I’m not letting you out of my sight until the school bell rings.”

Hoseok looks down at him and sighs again, this time in defeat. “Okay, then,” he mumbles, “can I at least have a coffee?”

Teacher Min frowns suspiciously. “Lead the way.”

As previously arranged, you made your way to the little medical clinic-slash-shed on the side of the school at the end of the day. Jimin had mentioned in the car this morning that often he had to hang around a little later on a Tuesday since it was the time for the children to have check-ups or get flu shots. “Most of the time there’s nothing,” he had told you, “but I have to keep it open just in case.”

There was a tiny kettle plugged into the wall, sitting on his desk, and a box of chamomile tea. When you arrived, he had set out two polystyrene cups, still steaming. He gestured for you to have the one that hadn’t been sipped at already and gave you a seat on the examination bench.

You watch him now, lips pursed, and eyebrows scrunched up as he focuses on locating something in the cupboard underneath his desk. Instead of pulling out some sort of medical tool or important document like you’d expect, he calls out a triumphant “aha!” and straightens up with a sleeve of biscuits in one hand.

You laugh and gladly take one as he rips it open and offers it to you. “Isn’t eating and working bad?”

He shrugs, crumbs clinging to his lips. “If someone comes in, I’ll just put them away. We don’t want any students finding out I keep food in here, they’ll never leave.”

“It is very, uh, empty in here. Maybe you are needing more students.”

His eyes twinkle. “Are you saying I’m not working hard enough?” He takes another biscuit and dunks it in the chamomile tea. You try not to screw your face up at the little floating bits on the surface after he pulls it out. “I did my hard yards in medical school, now I’ve earned a little peace and quiet, don’t you think?”

“Was medical school good?”

He tugs at his shirt cuff, avoiding your gaze. “I remember loving it, but now that memory is a little bittersweet.” You frown, not understanding his word choice, but he mistakes it as an invitation to keep explaining himself. “I met my ex-girlfriend there,” he discloses, “she was actually working at a café I went to a lot, studying to be a teacher. When we both got jobs here, we were over the moon, but a school nurse’s salary is far lower than most medical practitioners. She wanted me to leave and get a better paid job, but when I wouldn’t, she left instead. That was just over a year ago.”

You sit in stunned silence for a moment, unsure what to say. You knew Koreans didn’t say sorry like Westerners did, but you weren’t sure what the alternative was for expressing condolences.

Jimin obviously got the wrong idea by your silence, and scoffed bitterly at himself, sniffing and blinking like he was getting teary. “I apologize,” he mumbles sheepishly, “you don’t need to hear all that. Sorry. I tend to overshare.”

“It’s okay,” you automatically assure him, “that sounds difficult. It is sad.”

He runs a hand through his hair, ruffling it up before patting it back down. “You should tell me about yourself,” he says, “I’ve talked for long enough. What brings you to Korea?”

You hum in consideration. “I don’t know the using right words, but…My university is not very good. No, my, um, my study is not very good. I have gotten annoyed because I am always writing and reading and not doing, do you understand? I want to be living, but in my university, I am only learning about living. I think that I have not said it right.”

“No, no,” he hastily responds, “your Korean is very good! I understand you. I think you’re right, as well. In medical school, we could answer any question, outline the steps for any procedure. And then you graduate, and you go to start working in a hospital, and you freeze, because you realize you’ve only done things on paper. Not in real life. It’s a good thing, I think, to get some life experience. We’re all very happy to have you here, Y/n.”

Your cheeks heat up a little. “I am very happy now. Everything is very much, but I enjoy it. I am wishing that I make good friends here.”

Jimin chucks his empty polystyrene cup in the trash and holds his fist out to you, pinky finger extended. “We’ll make a pact,” he announces, “to be good friends. You and I can get some takeaways and have a movie night or something to celebrate the start of a wonderful friendship.”

You chuckle but lean forward nonetheless, intertwining your littlest finger with his, squeezing and giving it a little wiggle for good measure. “I have one friend now! It is good. Now I only need one more friend so that I have plural friends.”

He laughs, tipping his head back. “Wow, not a single minute goes by and you’re already moving on? Alright then, who else do you want to be friends with? We can track them down and force them to join our friendship pact.”

You shrug. “It’s all okay. Who is your friend?”

“Well, of course you’re my best friend in this whole world, but if I had to pick another, I’d say Jungkook.”

“Really? You are very different.”

Jimin smiles wistfully, fiddling with a loose thread on his pants. “I know. He’s very strong and confident, and I’m just small and shy. But we’ve gotten really close, since we’re neighbors, and I feel like we get each other. He’s a good guy.” He opens his mouth, blushes a little, and closes it again, staring off into space.

You smile awkwardly and go to respond, but his eyes dart to the clock and widen along with his mouth. “Ah, finally,” he states a little too loudly, “the open hour has ended, we can go home!”

“Oh, okay,” you stammer, “let’s go home.”

How are you?

You blink at your phone in confusion as a notification drops down while you’re brushing your teeth. Who is this?

Those three little dots hover, and hover, and then disappear.

It’s Taehyung. Jimin gave me your number.

Your response is short but typing out the Hangeul isn’t something you’re used to, and before you send it off, Taehyung’s sent another message.

Sorry if that makes you uncomfortable.

You revise your message and hit send. That’s okay. But why?

You spit out the last of your toothpaste and rinse, but hang around in the bathroom, nibbling at your thumbnail while you wait for him to reply.

Tomorrow is a school trip to SeMA. Would you want to come?

You frown. What is SeMA?

Seoul Museum of Art. The trip is 10am til 1pm. I’ve already asked Principal Kim if you can go, he says yes.

He already got permission? It was sweet of him to think of you, and you would really love to see the sighs while you were in the country. Yes please!

It takes him a while to reply, so long that you assume he’s not going to. You give up loitering in the bathroom and make your way into your bedroom, calling out a ‘sleep well’ to Jimin as you pass his half-open door.

It’s only once you’re in bed in an old sweatshirt and undies, ready to get a solid 6 hours that your phone vibrates on the floor. You pick it up, squinting at the harsh blue light.

If you like it maybe I could take you to another gallery on the weekend.

Barely ten seconds pass before another message pops up.

Or if you don’t like it, we could always get dinner or watch a movie on the weekend instead.

A flurry of messages buzz through.

Or maybe you just don’t want to hang out on the weekend, that’s okay too.

Tell me if I’m annoying you!

Sorry, I’ll shut up now kekeke

But do you want to hang out on the weekend?

You grin at the personality coming through the messages, and you’re almost able to picture him hunched over the phone, biting his lip and rubbing his brow. You punch out a response as fast as you can to put him out of his misery.

I want to go on the weekend!

He simply sends you a smiley face emoji, beaming with its eyes in little crescents, followed by two exclamation points. You laugh at his antics and do a little happy wiggle in bed. Not even two full days in Seoul and you had already nabbed yourself a date. The grass really was greener on the other side.

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