#me looking Arty like no. you would not be upset

[cloudbattrolls]

decides to keep this drabble in one part but totally redo it because [looks at old one] lmao, no

[chlmtsdoll]

i need some obsessed love sick art with reader…yummyyyyyy <3

Girl yessss. Writing this kinda reminded me of that one lyric from The Bolter by Taylor that’s like “taming a bear, making him care” idk I thought it was sweettt 🫶🏽🫶🏽 love sick Art is my fave

Fluff ! With a little bit of my size kink added 😉

To the world he was an icon. A star. The undefeated Art Donaldson. But away from the court, tour life, all the eyes, he was insurmountably tender. The sweetest as they come, overly caring and cub-like if you will, all for you.

When it had been just the two of you, nothing could take his mind a drift from being as close as possible. And that was as literal as it could be. He was on you whenever and wherever. It didn’t matter. Being their to swaddle you in a warm towel right after a bath, being the first person he ran to after a torment, kissing on your neck even as you read a chapter of your book before bed.

He loved picking you up. Tossing you over his shoulder, carrying you like a baby, whenever he could. Even with his gentle touch to everything and sensitive approach to most situations — it was obvious Art was physically a big guy. And you were in fact the ironic smaller girlfriend to his side, “look at your little toes.” He would chuckle to himself as you perfectly fit snug in his hold when the two of you would cuddle. He also would purposely use the excuse of him being much bigger to lay himself slightly on your lap so you couldn’t escape his hugs or when he’d kiss on your knees and thighs all sweet and cloying. It made you go crazy.

It was quite daunting the man could have had you so love struck by his cling to you when you’d always been the reserved type. Never too good with overtly being in your lovers space, or craving that contact with them every minute of the day — but with Art it was just different. He entranced you. With his sweet gestures and bashful doting eyes you couldn’t help yourself. He was your kind, warm hearted Art.

He loved watching you get ready, leaning on the counter top or lounging on the bed as he observed you from the bedroom while you did your makeup or hair. He was a girls guy after all. Always wanting to know the products you used and how you would do the styles he liked the most.

“Is this okay ?” Art questioned as he touched your locks, hardly, as if it would break if he clamped down too hard on the curling iron when you were showing him how to curl your hair for the first time, your giggle coming from where you sit between his legs.

“It’s fine, your doing great.” Your voice was encouraging, but that only got so far to the man who was a natural over achiever. He just wanted to do it right, impress you. You could tell from the way he looked in the mirror ahead of you, so serious as he pulled his lip underneath his tongue and he twirled your hair in a manner as best as he could. But quickly getting slightly upset when the curl hadn’t been as tight as the ones you showed him prior.

“You make it look so easy, baby… I don’t know how you do it.” His pouty voice matched the one on his lips, which was probably the most adorable thing to you really, you smiled fondly as you patted his hand as he frowned upon his work of your hair.

“You’re learning, with practice comes perfection, Artie.” Your voice was soft with him, and he liked that. Leaning down to leave a sweet peck to your cheeks that warmed up on instant at your blush from the man’s tender touch. He made you feel so loved — occupying all of his free time away from his career to love on you. He couldn’t get enough. He truly was obsessed with you.

Other times when you two would be watching a movie (or more like the movie had been watching you). You’d fallen into Arts trap to really lure you into making out with him, somehow always ending up on his lap as your thumbs caressed the skin of his soft cheek as you smooched and nibbled at his lip. Art groaned into every kiss you laid on him, letting you take control of the way his mouth moved with you. Hands going over your hips, he wanted to feel your angel like skin. Confessing in between kisses “wanna lock you down so bad.” And you’d giggle into the kisses before there had been a knock on your hotel room door.

Pulling away from the blonde as he groaned, “I’ll get it, lover boy.” You joked with a soft grin before getting up from his lap, but Art only lounged after your presence as he held on to your arm with greed not to let you up.

“No, no, no. I’ll miss you too much, princess.” Art whined as he stayed put relaxed against the pillows of the bed.

“I ordered take out for us, baby. I’ll only be a second,” you responded with a soft chuckle at the way his eyes watched your figure, following up the sight of his tongue darting out to lick over his lips at the plain sight of your adorable little bloomers.

“Fine.” The man sighed out and you gave him a sympathetic smile before turning on your heels to grab the food — but not to your much surprise, Art had followed right behind you. Turning around to notice him towering in coyness as he stuffed his hands in his pockets only to walk behind you as you scoffed at his needy response to loosing you for a quick second.

“What??” You laughed.

“I told you I’d miss you too much,”

You rolled you eyes as you opened the door to greet the delivery person and almost immediately after handing you the bags, they notice Art behind your figure, standing hunched against the wall with his attention proudly on you. There was a colossal gasps when they’d really examined who the tennis player was as you’d already known to be prepared by now. “Art Donaldson!” They screeched before you shut the door kindly with a cheeky smile.

“Bye!” was all you noted before locking the door and It was soft chuckles coming from the blonde as you narrowed your eyes at him with a grin before folding your arms. “Was it really worth giving them a near heart attack just to watch me walk down the hall ?”

“Yes. I don’t like being apart from you for too long, sweets.” Art shrugged before his lips curled up into a grin as he reached behind you to squeeze your ass just a bit. “And the sight of this can’t be missed.”

You swatted his hands away playfully even though you would of attacked him with more smooches if your food hadn’t been getting cold. Art smiled and took the bag from you to only catch your lips in a kiss anyways, and your flush grew as you couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness, yet sweetness that Art naturally was in his quality time with you always. Even if it boarded on quite obsessive. <3

[mikakuna]

JASON SHOCKING PPL WHEN HE TAKES OFF TGE HELMET BC HE IS SUCH A PRETTY BOY YES YESSSS YESSSSS!!!!! I need it, I crave it, and on the topic of scars, I’m remembering this old series I used to read back in middle school, the lunar chronicles? Where there was a character, Winter, who was so beautiful and everyone agreed (she was the Snow White equivalent) and she had three symmetrical scars down the side of her cheek from under her eye down to her jaw and they looked like tears. Idk, Jason like that as well always gets me.

But Jason with no scars too??? Yes yes yes yes want it need it crave it desperate for it to shock ppl, like, I’m constantly in an annoyed at Tim mood cause he’s been everywhere in fics even when you filter him out 😭 and I’ve come across so many “poor baby Tim’s friends the titans HATE Jason for attacking sassy poor scared baby bird Tim and threaten Jason on his behalf when they see him on a mission or at the watchtower or smth” and I have enough spite to want an oh yeah? How about a fic that starts off like it’s going in that direction.

Jason the absolute unbothered king who does not give two shits abt the Titan tower incident cause whatever it was a while ago move on? And he wasn’t fighting a baby he was fighting a dude a year or two younger than him, who had training, and the hubris to think he could beat Jason. It wasn’t a one sided smack down, and of it was ever spun that way it’s because Jason was THAT good, and Tim was too caught up in his prejudices regarding Jason to truly believe Jason had skill. That’s on Tim.

For jason, it happened, but it’s not even that big of a deal it’s barely registering on his radar bc Tim does NOT take up space in his list of priorities. Jays a busy guy. So maybe he’s at the watchtower or wherever with the outlaws (biz and arty cause Roy and Kori are with dicks TT atm, but you just know they are excited to see Jason again. (Jayroy my beloved.) and obvi so is Donna.)

and he gets approached by the comically angry Tim’s teen titans like OoOH we got a bone to pick with you! All that usual woobifying of Tim talk happens like, “so pathetic that you as an adult are coming in and beating on some kid sooo much younger than you, and all that crap,” and arty and biz are bristling here, and Jason just, shakes his head in wtf, takes of his helmet, muttering “this I gotta see with my own eyes” only for him to faintly register the THUNK of Kyle Rayner walking into a window, and the sputtering of Tim’s friends as they trail off in gobsmacked.

When they speak again it’s Kon, clearing his throat, “so like, are you single or…”

Cassie, hissing, “kon!” Sharply elbowing him in his side, still shook that Jason is barely older than them.

Kon, hissing back from the corner of his mouth, eyes still on Jason, cheeks flushed, “what? It’s not like I have a PROBLEM with the crime lord thing, my other dad is Lex Luthor!”

HAHDJD YES I LOVE ALL OF THIS

everyone thinks jason is this horrific monster for fighting tim like tim didn't equally fight back. it is NOT jason's fault tim's weak ass lost against him!!!!

omg the idea of him being so unbothered that he doesn't even remember fighting tim but meanwhile everyone and their moms have that shit in the back of their mind constantly because tim has them all thinking he's a little kid that needs protecting. it's just jason not giving a single fuck and 100% willing to fight him again to see if tim's improved even slightly <3

kon's reaction is so real !!! instant switch up when he realizes that this is not an old man but a beautiful, gorgeously scarred individual he will begin courting instantly. kon's internal thought is to wonder why tim was so upset about jason beating him because he would gladly sign up. my fav trope is everyone realizing how young jason is ♥️

thank you so much for sharing this amazing idea I LOVE ITTTT

[smicksstuff]

summary: Yn is back in England after the thrilling start to the F1 Season in Bahrain. She has got a week to spend before jetting off to Jeddah with her big bro. Who will be the lucky few who gets to enjoy the company of the one and only yn gasly?

read Part 1 and Part 2 here

The PitBox Crew Series

Mischief Managed

f1 drivers x yn gasly

instagram edit

8 March 2023

yngasly

Hogwarts

liked by mickschumacher, lance_stroll and 973, 038 others.

yngasly It's wingardium leviOsa, not leviosAH. (ft the best tour guide in the world & lando)

view 567 comments

maxfewtrell ❤️

landonorris WOW i see how it is !

yngasly it is what it is

charles_leclerc next tour is maranello 🔜

yngasly cant wait!! i would love a ton of ferrari merch too #55 please 🙏🏽

carlossainz55 YESS! i found my favourite gasly!

pierregasly HEYYYY!!

charles_leclerc sorry i think the tour is fully booked 😕

yngasly itsokay then, im sure carlos or arty would bring me there 😎

liked by arthur_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 567 others

charles_leclerc oh wait look at that my schedule is free now

sharl can we appreciate the fact that charles tried to be mean and failed miserably 😂

mickschumacher cant believe you went to harry potter world without me 💔 some kind of bestie you are 😭

schumacher47 mick being upset about not going to harry potter world is upsetting me

yngasly im sorry bestie we can go again tgt 🥺

mickschumacher you are paying

yngasly ME? FINE its on me

mickschumacher 👍🏼👍🏼👍🏼

yngaslyfc OMG the gasly genes are amazing! I'm in love 😻

pedrofans the hat and the nails and the fits!! her aesthetic is too die for 😍

landino yn hanging out with lando and max sounds like a new trio in the making !!

norris4life or its a cover up and they are secretly dating 🤔

pierregasly so this is what you ditched me for ? im hurted.

yngasly its hogwarts pierre, you dont skip on hogwarts

lance_stroll did you just cast wingardium leviosa? ‘cause you’re sweepin’ me off my feet! 😍

sirlancelot what in the hogwarts is happening?

lancestrollfans oh my my lance what are you doing

yngasly its an A for effort definitely

liked by lance_stroll and 1056 others

mickschumacher @lance_stroll how do you feel right now?

chloestroll idk who that was but its not my brother i refuse to believe what i just read

scottyjames31 never ever gonna let you forget this!! its become a core memory.

ls18 lance just trying to shoot his shot

lancestrollfans a cheesy pickup line by strulovich is not what i envisioned myself waking up to.

rickybobby OMG she would have been a dannyric girl! their aesthetic just click so well!

liked by 1068 others

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10 March 2023

lando.jpg

liked by yngasly, carlossainz55 and 956, 673 others

lando.jpg introducing my favourite people and yn

view 900 comments

yngasly WOW ! this is war now

lando.jpg you started it

maxfewtrell i feel so loved today ❤️

georgerussell63 what is yn playing

yngasly goat simulator

georgerussell63 why of all games that

yngasly lando didnt let me play on the sim 😭

lando.jpg but you were having so much fun on the goat simulator

yngasly im a quick learner! at least i didnt think that we needed to milk the goats 👍🏼

liked by lando.jpg, alexalbon, and 587 others

georgerussell63 that was low

gr63 not yn dragging george! i love her

alabono not alex liking the comment too

landino lando says “and yn” like she isnt the favourite one 😂

liked by 569 others

quadrantmania literally 5/9 of the photos has her in it

username4 he can do so much better than her fr, luisa is so much prettier than her

liked by 385 others

quadrantmania this is a hate free zone, please leave

ln4 umm is no one gonna speak about the rollercoaster pic ? or are we just assuming its yn?

landino …

username7 it better be someone else who would date her after all she did in milan

user2 what happened in milan ?

username7 why do you think she got shipped off to england?

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11 March 2023

yngasly added to their story!

f1wags

London

liked by sirlancelot, landino, sharl, and 278, 688 others

f1wags Yn Gasly, youngest child of the Gasly family has been spotted in a cafe in London with a guy. Since her first reappearance into the F1 world at the Bahrain paddock in 2023, she has been linked with a few drivers such as the likes of Mclaren Formula 1 Driver; Lando Norris and Ferrari hotshot Charles Leclerc. What are your thoughts on who this mystery guy is ?

Who is Yn Gasly?

The 23 year old Gasly girl is the youngest of the 5 siblings. She is currently a student at The University of Buckingham studying Marketing and Media Communications. She transferred from Universita Iulm - Communications, Media and Advertising where she had been studying the past 2 years. Her transfer to England allowed her to accompany her brother at his new Formula 1 team.

The youngest Gasly grew up alongside Charles Leclerc, Esteban Ocon and Anthoine Hubert who was her best friend. Yn has always been an avid fan of racing. She used to kart with Pierre, Charles and Anthoine. Racing was not her passion however, she was always seen in the garages of Pierre, Anthoine and Charles, cheering them on at every race. Following the lost of her bestfriend, she left the racing scene and supported Pierre and Charles from the television screen. She made a return to the paddock this season sporting the Alpine colours of Pierre’s new team.

view 768 comments

lando4life that guy definitely is lando. they have been hanging with each other all week !!

landoooo i heard that she even appeared on max’s stream

ln4 i mean how can it not be lando, did you see the pictures he posted with her !!

landoo04 he posted a movie theater too on his jpg account too

sharl thats our monegasque king for sure! have you not seen the flirty comments they leave on each others post

sharl plus i mean they’d make a hot couple

landino charles hasnt been in london tho, he has been in italy all this while.

supermaxx thats our london boy lando for sure! their banter is beyond just friends.

liked by 700 others

estiebestie anyone for a second thought that maybe it was lance?

sirlancelot lance and yn have always been friends, the flirty comments is nothing new

premaagirls thats true!! they were good friends when lance was in prema

lancesgirls she and chloe have also been besties for a long time!!

f1fans how are yall so blind to the fact that she uprooted her entire life in milan just for pierre! i mean i cant believe she left milan because of pierre

yngaslyfc im pretty sure she had her reasons for transferring!

f1fans just imagine that you have to uproot your life for your sibling! she has been doing it her entire life just so pierre can race. its unbelievable the extents they go so they can race!

username3 how is this even allowed in this modern world! thats absurd!

yngaslyfc if you really read and understand pierre’s and yn’s story you will find out that yn did not give up her dreams or education for pierre! pierre and yn have always been an unbreakable duo.

yngaslyfc plus pierre has always been supportive towards yn’s aspirations, she has always been a priority for him. so i think you should get your facts right before commenting on them.

liked by yngasly and 68 others

-

13 March 2023

yngasly just posted a story!

-

credits: all pictures are found from pinterest and instagram

a/n: thank you for reading this far !! If you have any suggestions send them to me!! I would love to hear them ◡̈

if you would like to be tagged when new parts are released, drop your usernames in the comments!! 😁

[darknessisafriend]

Arthur who?

Finally posting this short comforting piece about our Artie! enjoy everyone :)

Arthur comes back home, and he doesn’t feel good.

You were reading a book on the sofa, curled up under a blanket to warm you until Arthur would come back and let you snuggle against him, playing with your hair as he listened to your reading. Your attention was soon pulled away from your book as you recognized the familiar footsteps of Arthur on the wooden stairs. Although they sounded heavier, more tired than usual.

Your suspicions were revealed to be true when his steps stopped at the door, a silent pause which made you put your book aside and stand up, almost rushing to the door, had he forgotten his keys? Did something worse happen? You put your hand on the door handle, about to open when his voice stopped you in your movement.

“Knock, knock…” he said, his voice barely hearable from the other side.

“Who’s there?” you replied, ready to listen, feeling his upset, his sadness. Whatever happened outside, it seemed to have deeply affected him.

“Arthur Fleck...”

“Arthur Fleck who…?” you asked, the frown deepening on your face until realization hit you, Arthur had gone silent, not replying, this was his joke…he was the joke. Your eyes filled with tears, and you instantly opened the door, throwing your arms around him and hugging him as tight as you could. His arms remained limp on his sides, he swallowed down, his whole-body trembling in pain, distress, exhaustion. He let his head fall on your shoulder, burying it in the crook of your neck as you pulled him inside, closing the door to shelter him from the world.

You made him sit on the sofa while keeping your arms around him, you didn’t speak at first. Your left hand rubbing his back while the other caressed the back of his head soothingly.

“Why are you here? What makes you stay with a loser like me…” he muttered against your shoulder, his voice shaking as if his words could make you leave him.

“Arthur…what happened? You know you can talk to me.” You reassured him, kissing his temple tenderly, hating to hear he thought so low of himself. You felt a tear of his fall on your collarbone, he sniffled and chuckled at the same time.

“Someone recognized me on the streets today…they said…Hey Joker…when are you going to blow up the mayor? I said I don’t want to do that…they replied ‘you’re such a disappointment... go fuck yourself’…” he explained, each word was painful, he was struggling against his disability, struggling to breathe between giggles. And Arthur had believed that person. Arthur thought himself nothing, a fleck of dust bothering the world.

You pinched your lips together; you knew how much it weighed on him since he had managed to get out of Arkham. “You are Arthur Fleck. And you have no idea how much those two words mean to me.” You spoke, gently cupping his face to try to make him look at you in the eyes. “Arthur I won’t have the pretention of telling you who you are or who you should be. But what I am certain about is: how important you are to my eyes.” You smiled, a tear rolling down your cheek. You took a deep breath and opened your mouth, starting to sing, quietly, a song that reminded you of Arthur, when you met him the first time, how your world collapsed to create a new one, one with Artie.

“There was a boy…A very strange, enchanted boy…They say he wandered very far…Very far, Over land and sea…” you had always found Arthur strange, but as you liked to say, most interesting people are. He was even magical to your eyes, that boy who lived in his fantasies, strong imagination, passionate by music and dance, loving to make children smile, a romantic man gifting flower.

“A little shy…And sad of eye…But very wise was he...” people said he was in his world, a child man with a low IQ, those people obviously didn’t know him. He was an adult man, not afraid to regress to relax, to cry in front of a movie, to be vulnerable in front of others. He didn’t need anyone to infantilize him, he was more than aware of his situation, the problems he had, and all he had ever wanted was help to get through them.              

“And then one day…One magic day he passed my way…And while we spoke of many things…Fools and kings…This he said to me…The greatest thing...You'll ever learn…Is just to love…And be loved in return…” you sang a last time; this time he lifted his eyes to meet yours, his brows furrowing into a feeling of fondness, he loved when you sang, and that song from one of his favorite singers took a meaning it never had before. He let out a soft natural laugh.

“Am I that boy? Really?” he asked shyly, flattered, his hands finding yours, entwinning your fingers with his.

“To me you are Arthur. You are not a symbol, or a myth. You are my lover, and with that chance of being so close to you, I got to know you, I love who you are. No need to define it further than that.” You smiled, bringing your entwinned fingers to your lips and kissing his knuckles.

“Right…I am who I am, I know who I am, you see who I am…and that’s enough.” He replied softly, a smile settling on his lips, his eyes shining as he looked at you devotedly. He didn’t have to care about what others said he was, nor did they have the right to judge him because he wasn’t what they wanted him to be.

Tag list: @skaravile @lyoongx @weirdflecksbutok @charlie-sisters @stardancerluv @sgtsavoytruffle @ohcarlesmycarles @rajacero @niniitah-ah @morrisonmercurryphoenix @fly-like-a-phoenix @thatdummy-girl​r @galos-writing @pstvchld @chiclunatic @call-me-harley-quinn @cigznvalentines @help-i-am-obssessed @arthurfleckjoker2019 @theartistdetective @jaylovesbats @niniitah-ah @soulsdontbreaktheybeeend @fleckcmscott @obssessedandthirsty @weirdflecksbutok @ajokeformurray

[assless-chapstick]

MA'AM IM SCREAMING

please what would they sing UGH they sing that like Bad Boys Bad Boys Watcha Gonna Do but they do it like with they do a lot of snapping like in fuckin west side story

it's such a cursed fandom dude it's completely rotting my brain like I'm it's like watching a trainwreck that makes you angry like I just watch it to FEEL SOMETHING yk like

I haven't had to deal with patients for like a month I haven't had any stupid bs to deal with so I'm watching glee to fill that void in my life ig

also John singing the Michael Jackson "Billie Jean is not my lover - the kid is not my son!!!" right in front of poor Abby and Jack ajdhdhhfhd and fuckin moonwalking and tipping his hat doing Jackson moves I cannOT

so until a couple weeks ago I had never seen the hit 2000s television show Glee but I started watching it recently and it's just fuckin Im obsessed and idk why it's so fuckin stupid

and now imagine what if it was glee but it was fuckin Red Dead Gleedemption

but it's not a highschool au they're just themselves, they're just cowboys that sing showtunes and how fuckin gd funny that would be like fuckin

dutch is the coach obvi and he's always deciding who sings what and when and who duets with who and who gets solos and like mARSTON AGAIN?? REALLY COACH HE CAN'T EVEN CARRY A TUNE IN A BUCKET I SWEAR TO GOD

and then Arthur gets to sing I'm at a pay phone Dutchy just phone home all of the time you spent on plans

AND IMAGINE THEY DO CHOREO

unfortunately I can't think of a single popular song to riff off rn I don't listen to the gosh dang radio no more idk what's popular except for what's blowing up on Tiktok

[thebearme]

got any zoey headcanons?

YES!! imma bout to go off-

Zoey is Korean-Russian. (Dad is Russian and mom is Korean.)

Was a military kid so she hopped to place to place but when her dad was home the arguing would continue. Eventually leading to a divorce.

Her pet hamster and cat kept her company during these times.

Miss Puffy Cheeks (the hamster) is unkillable. Kid Zoey would make up stories of MPC being a tough, resilient military hamster that has a secret life outside of being her pet like Parry the platypus. She finds it silly now but she still can't figure out where MPC goes when she's at school.

Zoey lives with her dad. (she was always a daddy's girl even if she hates to admit.)

Zoey was a quiet but kind girl when she was younger, always a people pleaser and it only got worse in the beginning of high school.

She always got bullied by the jocks of the school for being a push-over, pick-me girl and a quiet kid.

One day they put gum soo far up in her long hair the next day it was ALL cut to her shoulders length.

Later she dyed her brown hair to red. (Cuz red looks cute but also because it gives her SOME control in her situation.)

When I think of Zoey being into indie stuff I think of arty tiktok. (like arthoe, indiekid, vintagecore suff like that)

During All Star Zoey was the girls counselor (by force) and a couple counselors (by force). By the end of it she got sick of being everyone's therapist. She LOVES helping her friends but it gets hard to do so when you have no choice.

Zoey's favorite time period is the 50s, as well is Vito. (the ONLY thing they have in common)

She's also go on dates with Svetlana. (🏳️‍🌈lesbeans)

Zoey also does Svetlana's makeup sometimes.

Zoey likes putting stickers on things and people.

In MZC team (Mike, Zoey and Cam) Zoey thinks she's the mom friend. (everyone is the mom friend.)

In a High school au their friend group is literally JUST Ned's declassified survival guide.

Btw Zoey and Mike are the types of mfs to instead of dancing in the prom they will dance in the rain outside together. (I watched too many 00s 10s Disney shows.)

Cause Zoey was a military kid she had trained with her dad in self-defense. (This is where commando Zoey came to be!) Even though she never uses it, it's still a useful skill.

Zoey is sumwhat able to catch up to Manitoba pace when they hike together.

Jo hangs out with Zoey and Svetlana, they go to the gym together.

Sammy and Zoey are friends and go to the same school (Zoey is two grades ahead.) and they spend lunch together sometimes. (depending if Amy kicks Sammy out from her lunch table.)

Zoey's cat (Fluffy) has beef with Mike because he thinks Mike is taking his mother from him. (Her attention whore cat.)

She does NOT like conflict. Zoey will have a panic attack if people argue in front of her, let alone make her choose sides.

Zoey takes a major in psychology and a minor in fashion.

Zoey and Brick are classmates and great friends.

Brick and her have a lil side project where they make outfits for Dekota size. (she really appreciates it.)

A little silly thing Zoey does when she's bored is that she draws on her or others skin. Mike tends to have the most drawings on him (hands & arms) it grounds him and also because her drawings are cute. She doesn't draw on Cam because he's to afraid of the chemicals in the markers or pen.

Zoey hates the idea of choosing sides so much after she finishes college she moves in with Mike. Not smart financial but at least she won't have to tell one of her mom or dad that she chose to be with the other parent instead of them.

Zoey has a little bit of strained relationship with her parents.

Mal and Zoey would ✨lovingly✨ beat each other up. They're ADHD VS AUTISM incarnate. (Mal hates mfs with red hair and pronouns!! /j)

Zoey is Molly McGee on adderall.

Her and Gwen would get tongue piercings together.

Zoey has a granddaughter relationship with Chaster, a good one but she still try's not to upset him anymore then he already is. (btw no one has told him that Zoey is half-Russian and none of them plan to.)

Zoey take more years in college later and became a teacher; I imagine she's Mille's teacher. After the TDI reboot Mille comes back to class feeling guilty that she couldn't finish her thesis paper about people her generation's psychology but made a backup paper about her own insecurities. And of course Zoey completely understands and tells Mill it's ok to feel insecure but make sure to keep yourself in check so that insecurity doesn't turn into judgement for others problems and trauma. (this one had abit more projection in this. superiority complexes in Gen Z's that "aren't like the others" virus is a real problem man.)

(Because I aint planning to re-re-redesign Zoey.) take a list of songs that give a Zoey vibe.

[glowingvoid]

The first chapter to a Rain World Artisaint fanfic that I'm working on

CW: Some gore, violence, one uncensored swear, and child death

Words beneath the cut

The Artificer sat upon his dusty throne high in the air. His bloodstained mask that marked his life as a chieftain was put right next to him. The Artificer watched the air move through the large dome while a pale white light shone on his face from outside. 

Ks, ks, ks, ks

The sound of an elite scavenger trotting into the room didn't surprise Artificer at all. In fact, the only recognition on his matted furry face of the scavenger entering the room was a quick glance. The scavenger reached the bottom of the Artificer's tall wooden throne and kneeled and bowed. The Artificer watched the brown furred elite with a glare that seemed to say, 'state your reason for disturbing me or die'. 

"Uh- uh-" The young scavenger apprentice stuttered a bit too much for the chieftain to spare it. A bomb was dropped nonchalantly from the Artificer's hand onto the stunned creature's masked head. 

"Uh oh, somebody didn't have a reason to disturb me," Artificer said in a mocking voice before leaping down from his throne, creating dirt clouds when he landed, and gripping the bloody scavenger body. Unfortunately, the Artificer's expression was almost always that of a neutral one. His face had suffered too much damage to create expressions like a normal slugcat would. Artificer dragged off the body into his den for later. Perhaps as a snack.

Being a chieftain was a bit boring, the Artificer thought. However, it was balanced out by the fact that he got to have power over a nation. He got revenge, and it was more than he could have ever hoped for. The Artificer's den was pretty small and humble for a terrorist as strong as himself. Vines hung from the ceiling and some blue-colored grass taken from the Outskirts was planted in the floor. Despite the Artificer's aggressive personality, he enjoyed taking care of things. This was made evident by the abundance of potted plants, vines, and grasses in his cozy den. 

The Artificer took a while to come to terms with the fact that he was a caretaker. The number one terrorist was a caretaker. It sounds a bit absurd. 

Arti sighed as he laid down on the soft grass. His fur was brushed by the grass as it licked him. There were some round windows made of glass letting some light yellow sun rays in the room. The rays lit up the Artificer's fur. Suddenly, Arti was hit with a strong urge to become a denmaker again. To take care of small pups again… He knew that he had taken care of some pups before, but he didn't have any memories anymore and his dreams were now about taking care of the scavenger empire instead of his days as a father. 

"Mmmm…" Artificer hummed and looked out the window. There were no more slugcats alive other than him anymore. He was pretty sure of this fact because normal slugcats don't have any fur or lanterns to keep them warm. Snow glittered in the air and on the ground with the golden rays of sunrise. It was beautiful to gaze upon the world, but also a tad bit depressing to know that this used-to-be warm world had plunged into an eternal ice age.

Artificer would never become a denmaker again. There were no other slugcats in this frozen land. The era of the slugcats was over, and the Artificer was the last one. If only he could find just one female to have pups with. If only he had a chance.

-------------------------------------------------------

"Hello, Chieftain Artificer." He recognized the voice as Melting-Shore, one of the most trustworthy elites, and the one that he got along with the most. Melting-Shore's coat was long and shaggy, with white and orange spots. 

Artificer turned around with a growl out of instinct, but then apologized when he realized his mistake. "What are you here to tell me?"

"Are you aware that a fucking juvenile's body is sitting outside your den? I would say to keep it there as a warning, but it may upset the other scavengers." Melting-Shore always had a unique tone to his voice, and a unique amount of curses he used. The Artificer swore that Melting-Shore cursed in every sentence that he spoke.

"Yes, now could you please go away so that I can cook and eat it in peace?" Artificer chuckled as much as he actually could, knowing that he could crack jokes with Melt without upsetting him. 

"Well, I'll see ya later!" Melting-Shore hopped like a strange monkey out the den. 

The Artificer sighed and hauled the dead scavenger's body into his fireplace, where he used a bomb to start cooking the meat until it was nice and full of ashes, just as he liked it. Arti almost fell asleep on the grass from a combination of the warmth and the satisfaction of cooking his own meal.

Cooking was something that the scavengers had learned to do in the past few decades. It was a necessary skill after the ice age hit. It also made meat taste much better. Recently, the scavengers had figured out the magic of sauces and seasoning, with full-on restaurants opening. While the Artificer would love to go to a restaurant one day, he was completely content just sitting by the fire as his meal cooked. 

When the food was ready, Arti pulled the corpse off the fire and onto a large shelf that he called 'The Eating Shelf'. It was a clean shelf of bricks that the Artificer used to eat on.

Bringing his jaw close to the food, the Artificer chowed down on the smokey flavor of scavenger. Scavenger meat was stringy, like some kind of chicken, but tasted more like pork. It was a near-black red color. The smell of scavenger wafted through the den and out into the throne room. The Artificer was content, and would have smiled if he could.

[klaineccfanficlibrary]

Hi, so I've been looking for this Klaine fanfiction I read a while ago but I can't find it anywhere and I don't remember the actual name of it but when I was looking for it the Ao3 link came up with the begining of the description of the fic I've been looking for but when I pressed it it took me to Ao3 which is what I remember reading the fic on but I couldn't find it on there. Here's what the begining of the description says, " NEW NAME: was "KLAINE" (changed because that was pretty vague but still like it). Kurt and Blaine are living their dream in New York, but what happens..." And that's it.

I do remember some events if that helps!

I remember the fanfiction is about Kurt and blaine when they are older and married and they have 3 kids, 2 girls and 1 boy and I remember at some point in the story Blaine is in contact with his uncle but doesn't tell Kurt because he felt that Kurt would be disappointed or mad that Blaine was using his uncle for money and things and eventually Kurt catches on and thinks that Blaine is cheating on him and at some point they go on a trip with Tina and artie I think and Kurt doesn't want to talk to Blaine because he's upset with him for cheating on him but Blaine doesn't know that Kurt thinks he's cheating on him when really he's just in contact with his uncle and they fight in the bedroom but eventually it's figured out and they get over it. another part is when Kurt gets a job in another city or state or something like that and Blaine is upset cause Kurt has always been a workaholic in the past which left Blaine to take care of things around the house by himself but anyway, Blaine tells him to go and that they are on a break or something or that they're separated while Kurt is in a different place so he can do what he pleased and the last thing I remember was Kurt and blaine deciding they want another baby but as the baby is born I think it's Kurt who gets in a accident and is in a coma for a while and Blaine is depressed and their daughter Aria feels bad or something because she and Kurt were in the car when they got in the accident because he was picking her up from a boys house which she was not supposed to be at.

Thanks!

Hello -we got all your messages re this one. Please be aware we are not always here, so if you haven't had a reply, please be patient and we'll get to you!

I am not aware what this fic is, so am appealing to the fandom and someone may know it. We have our daddies!klaine tab, or on A03, there's 407 works under parents Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel. Or on fanfiction.net under family tag. Hopefully it can be found. ~Jen

[clarepreed]

Sea Legs

Story Content and Summary - 6,544 words. At the age of thirty, merfolk deity Artis requires each merperson to visit her altar. She makes a choice on their behalf, and either sends them back to their people or gives them legs, sending them to live with the Earthwalkers. When Leonie is given legs and potentially the chance to reunite with her long lost love, tragedy strikes. Will Leonie join the ranks of those who never came back? Blood, drowning, on-site resuscitation.

--

Recorded on waterproof vellum, the oral histories of the Atlantic Schoole of Merfolke:

Each merfolke, having reached their thirtieth year, will make a pilgrimage to the altar of Artis. Merfolke content to swim with the Schoole will return home blessed. But a restless spirit will have their tail split in twain, and they will walk the Earthe until such time as the Sea calls them home.

— Just over two years prior, Leonie

Twenty-eight-year-old Leonie Cerulean rushed to meet Alaric Stormur at their usual spot. She’d been the one to find them first: ruins from a town of Earthwalkers, on a submerged island long-reclaimed by the ocean.

Leonie made a pretty picture as she hurried. Long, streaming ginger hair. A crown of woven sea grass that kept her hair out of her face. Her beautiful, long tail that glimmered silvery blue-green. She swam topless as was the fashion, though she’d adorned herself with a rope of seagrass studded with small shells. The rope twined over her shoulders, and between and beneath her pale breasts.

She spotted Alaric quickly, floating in a broken archway. He’d clubbed his dark hair at the nape for travel. He was otherwise unadorned. He had the light brown skin of an angel shark, and a beautiful red and purple tail like a speckled hind.

Normally, he swam out to meet her when she approached; today, he remained where he was, peering down into the depths of the ocean. Leonie felt her own anxiety in the way he held his shoulders.

Today was the day that could change everything.

Happy birthday, my love, she thought.

Alaric turned then. His face changed a bit when he saw her, shifting from sad and distant to a weak smile.

Leonie… He opened his arms wide. Thank you.

You look sad. She wrapped her arms around him. She’d wanted to spend time with him before they talked about his pilgrimage, but she realized now that this was unrealistic. Are you… restless of spirit?

I don’t know. Alaric folded her in his arms. Their tails rippled gently in the water. I’m anxious.

I love you!

Alaric pressed his mouth to hers, his hand threading tenderly in her hair. I love you, too, Leonie. Always.

Leonie shuddered against him. You’re saying goodbye.

I don’t want to.

But you are.

I would feel worse if Artis gave me legs, and I never told you goodbye.

Later, when Alaric didn’t come back, when days turned into weeks turned into years, Leonie wondered how it was possible to feel any worse.

Present day, Leonie

Leonie’s mother, Marin, kept pace with her, anxiously peeking at her daughter as they swam. Leonie, for her part, tried to ignore the looks.

You don’t have to swim so fast, Leonie Cerulean!

The faster I get there, the faster Artis will send me home.

Leonie!

Leonie stopped swimming and pivoted to face her mother. The older merwoman could have been her sister, her own ginger hair in a loose cloud around her head. I’m sorry, Amma, but I just want to get this over with.

I know, Leonie. But I’m your mother, and we might never see each other again. I don’t know when the sea will call you home.

You believe she will give me legs. Leonie watched a froth of little bubbles escape her mother’s mouth, nose, and gills. Her mother only laced her breath like that when she was very upset.

I have never met more restless merfolk than you, starfish.

I love you, Amma. Leonie darted into her surprised mother’s arms. 

I know! And I love you! But your spirit has always been restless, and the loss of your merman did not help.

If he’s alive, Leonie said. I will find him. The only reason he hasn’t come back is because Artis kept his tail. He will be looking for me.

For your sake, I hope so. Marin gazed into her daughter’s eyes, her own a deep well of sadness. I will picture him waiting for you to surface with open arms, my starfish. You will see all the bright things that the surface has to offer. And then you and Alaric will be called home to the sea to give me grandchildren to spoil.

Leonie and her mother had to part ways here by the dead reef. She had to make the rest of her journey alone. Leonie had left Alaric here on his birthday more than two years prior. Now, she was the one following the landmarks to the entrance of the underwater cave.

Be careful, her mother had told her. The Earthwalkers have artificial fins and devices to breathe beneath the water. They have been caught exploring Artis’ cave.

With that in mind, Leonie kept a watchful eye on her surroundings as she approached the fated cave. The exterior of Artis’ cave was unassuming, though the altar within was reported to be beautiful. With that in mind, Leonie swam to the entrance, hesitating only a moment before entering.

The cave was dark, even to Leonie’s light-colored eyes. It was also narrow, and she let her fingers trail along the rock as she swam, not wanting to scrub herself on something rough or sharp. 

Fortunately, the tunnel widened, and the space around her grew more visible. 

Leonie’s head breeched the surface and she closed her gills, spewing water from her nose and mouth. Then she drew a breath of moist, cool air. Above her, light streamed in from an opening in the rock. The beam fell on a large, flat rock at the edge of the water. Everything was dark, brown, and moist.

This is it? she thought, swimming over to the rock. Am I in the wrong place? Did the Earthwalkers do something to—

“Leonie Cerulean.”

The voice startled her, and she whipped her head around, looking for the source. 

“Place your hands on the rock.” The voice was not just one voice. It was the voice of a million women of all ages speaking at once. Loud and alien, but somehow familiar. Leonie’s heart beat faster, and after taking a few steadying breaths, she complied with shaking hands.

As soon as her palms connected with the rock, Leonie’s body went rigid. She bowed up, eyes opening wide and then rolling back in her head. The cave expanded, filling with color and light. It was like being inside a giant prism, cold but colorful. Blinding. She gasped, her mouth falling open, and one of the beams plunged inside, disappearing into her throat.

Leonie. You will experience much pain. Much pleasure. Much sorrow. Much love. You are a restless spirit. Go and walk the Earth until I call you home.

Leonie wanted to ask about Alaric. About her mother’s wish for grandchildren. About all of the people who’d never returned. But the light in her throat had become a blade of glass. It carved deep inside of her, then twisted. She was frozen in position, unable to pull away from the rock or curve her body away from the pain. Blood bubbled up her throat and spilled from her lips. Red, hot blood leaked from her nose and eyes and ears. Beneath the water, her beautiful scales peeled and flaked off, and her tail twisted until it split, turning the water dark with her blood. 

Leone seized, impaled on the beam of light. Her gills sealed themselves and disappeared. Her lungs reformed themselves to breathe only air. Her heart briefly stilled, but the light arced through it, restarting it with a twitch. She became a creature of glass and blood and the light spectrum.

And then, with a faint pop, the prism light disappeared. Leonie clung to the rock, no longer bleeding, naked and kicking her new legs.

The water level in the cave rose, swirling around Leonie as she gasped and thrashed. She knew Earthwalkers couldn’t breathe water, and she was one of them now. Leone’s legs felt strange and weak. She dragged herself up onto the rock with shaking arms, but the water quickly closed over her head. 

The water lifted her, pushing her up toward the source of light at the top of the cave. Leonie scrabbled for purchase on the narrowing sides of the cave, tearing her fingernails on the rock. Her head bobbed above the surface and she sucked in a great breath, only for the water to cover her again. Her shoulder caught hard on the side of the cave and when it broke free, the pressure of the water forced her body out of the hole in the cave ceiling and into the open air.

Brilliant light blinded her. Leonie clapped her hands to her eyes. A wave of water crashed into her, knocking her sideways. She glanced painfully off a rock. Leonie tried to touch the bottom with her new feet, but couldn’t feel it. She was barely keeping herself afloat with her arms, her legs useless sticks beneath her. 

How do Earthwalkers swim? she thought. A wave smacked her in the face, and she gagged on what had been life-sustaining and was now life-taking. The salt burned her eyes and nose. As she struggled, her eyes slowly adjusted to the bright surface light. She could see land not far from where she treaded water. A sandy beach with people. 

Can I ride the waves?

Leonie pushed away from the rocks and rolled onto her back. Her aching body was slow to obey her, but once she stopped wriggling, she found that she could float. Another wave slammed into her, violently pushing her toward the beach.

This will work, she thought.

The next wave, however, sent her a surprise.

NET! 

Leonie knew about nets. Earthwalkers used them to hunt. Sometimes, they caught and fatally injured merfolk that way. She’d been fortunate to avoid them. Until now. The net tangled around her, weights pulling her just beneath the surface. Leonie could still feel the current pushing her toward the beach, but now she was stuck.

Don’t breathe! Leonie pressed one hand to her mouth and nose, pinching her own nostrils closed. 

You’ll be on land soon! Don’t breathe!

Her lungs burned. Everything around her was a confusion of blue-green water, sand, net, and rock. The more time passed, the more her lungs hurt. A spasm clenched her throat. She shuddered underwater, useless legs kicking. Her cheeks bulging, Leonie thrashed her head from side to side.

Don’t… breathe…

Don’t…

She opened her mouth and sucked in water like air.

Before, when she inhaled water with her gills, she felt sustained and supported. She preferred it to breathing air, though she could do both. Before.

Now, her Earthwalker body tried to breathe the water, but it surged in and out of her to no avail. Her vision darkened. The movement of her limbs slowed.

This is why people don’t come back, she thought, before she lost consciousness altogether.

Alaric

If Leonie was coming, it would be today. Her birthday. This morning, specifically. Any minute now. He nudged the bag he’d brought for her with his foot to reassure himself it was there. Clothing, food, drinking water, first aid kit, state ID and passport, marriage license. The last three items were fake, but merfolk had lived above the surface so long they had their resources.

The bag also included a pair of wedding rings to complete the story, but he wanted to explain Earthwalker customs to Leonie first.

Alaric stood with his hands in his pockets, eyes intent on the No Swimming Allowed portion of the surf. The Earthwalkers had it fenced and roped off well out into the water, though Alaric was amused by the futility of roping off the sea. 

Further down the beach, he saw families playing in the surf, sunbathers lounging in chairs, and a lifeguard up in their tower, watching the water.

Merfolk didn’t arrive down in the family swimming area, unfortunately. They were birthed amongst the rocks and had to swim their way to the beach. Most made it, but there had been days when they thought no one had surfaced, only for the Earthwalkers to find a beautiful naked corpse washed up further down the beach.

Alaric had spent his first sixth months on the surface here, learning how to use his new body and how to survive among the Earthwalkers. Then he’d traveled for more than a year, backpacking across America, using forged documents to travel to every continent except Antarctica.

He’d returned a few months ago to reintegrate into the surfaced merfolk community and wait for Leonie.

She’s a restless spirit of ever I saw one, he thought, a sharp sense of longing cutting through him. He’d been fine, he had. He enjoyed his travels. He’d met a lot of people and had good and bad experiences.

But he still missed her. He had dreams about holding her in his arms. Talking to her. Kissing her. Having Earthwalker sex with her.

Earthwalkers often seemed to doubt their love for each other, but Alaric was still a merman at heart. Playing the field was fine, encouraged even. But once you found your match or matches, merfolk tended to mate for life. Artis willing.

A particularly forceful wave caught his attention, and he glanced toward the rocks. A geyser of water shot into the air. Alaric took a series of quick steps toward the surf, hand shading his straining eyes.

The ocean was too rough and frothy today to make much out. Even down the beach where there weren’t rocks, he’d heard the lifeguard cautioning Earthwalkers from going too far out, and parents talking to children about the safety of the crashing waves.

Leonie…

He didn’t doubt she loved him. But if Artis hadn’t given her legs, there wasn’t anything either of them could do until Artis called him home. 

Another wave crashed, followed quickly by a third.

Then his eyes caught on something that wasn’t water or rock.

A pale something, floating on the surface. An ill feeling swept over him, and Alaric slowly kicked off his shoes. He took a few more steps into the surf, then pulled off his shirt, tossing it onto the sand behind him.

The pale thing rode the next wave, and he realized it was a body, tossed about at the mercy of the ocean.

“Leonie!” Alaric shouted, even though he still couldn’t be sure it was her. He ran through the shallows, then thrashed forward until the water was deep enough to swim in.

Alaric was a good swimmer. They all were once they got used to their legs. They all took CPR and first aid classes, something that came in handy often as newly surfaced merfolk learned how to swim with their new bodies. He cut through the water, his heart sinking as he got a closer look at the body.

A woman, long-limbed and pale. Face down in the water and caught up in a net. She had a cloud of ginger hair floating around her, tangled with sea grass.

Artis had given Leonie legs. Leonie had come.

Leonie had drowned.

Alaric swam the last yards and caught her by the hair. He dragged her into his arms, trying not to get tangled up in the net himself. He tugged at the net, pulling it over her head and turned her over in the water.

It was for sure Leonie. As beautiful as he remembered, only now her pale eyes were a dark blue. They stared up at the sky, lifeless. Her lips were blue as well.

Leonie! No, no, no! At moments like this, he forgot Earthwalker bodies couldn’t speak mind-to-mind. Not that Leonie could hear him either way.

Alaric towed them both further from the rocks and then floated her on her back, his left arm cradling her under her shoulders and the other reaching up so he could pinch her nose. Then he sealed her purple mouth with his. Alaric gave her five breaths. Each time, water came up from her mouth and their lips parted with a sputtering noise. Still, he thought he could see her chest rise. 

By the fifth breath, she still hadn’t revived, her body growing more ashen by the second. Alaric wrapped his arm across her chest and swam one-armed for the shore, trying to keep both of their heads above water.

The lifeguard from the family beach met him halfway, taking her legs and helping him run her out of the surf. They dragged the net with them, her legs still caught up in its grasp.

“What happened?” The lifeguard shouted, the excitement in his voice showing his nerves.

“My… wife was swimming,” Alaric fibbed. “She got caught in this net and pulled into the rocks!”

They laid her flat, moving so fast her body crashed to the sand. He could see white foam already leaking out of her nose and mouth, dripping onto the sand as her head tipped to the side. Alaric immediately bent over her, his hands tracing her exposed ribcage. Bits of his hair had come loose, and he tossed his head impatiently to get it out of his eyes.

The lifeguard was speaking into a radio and digging through his backpack. “We have a drowned female in the No Swimming Zone B. I need backup, the AED, and EMS. I repeat…”

Alaric didn’t know if this man had ever revived a drowning person, but Alaric had. Multiple times. He clasped his hands together and pressed the heel into Leonie’s sternum. His fingers overlapped her left breast as he began pumping up and down.

“One, two, three…” He’d done this before, but he could tell this was especially bad. Leonie’s body made a squelching noise each time he forced her sternum down. His previous victims hadn’t taken in much water. It sounded like Leonie had inhaled water until there was no more room for anything else. 

The lifeguard brought an oropharyngeal airway out of his bag and tipped Leonie’s head back, measuring the airway against her jaw. As he held her face there, foam ran from her nose and mouth, covering her face in a white sheet of liquid. Each compression of her chest sent a spray from her lips. Her stomach popped up rhythmically, the sloshing within audible to Alaric.

“I’ll keep going until you’re ready!” Alaric called out. He was well past thirty already, and Leonie wasn’t showing any signs of reviving. He wondered if her heart had already stopped beating. Wondered how long she’d been in the water before he spotted her.

The lifeguard gripped her jaw and forced her mouth open, muttering: “She’s seized up!” He got the airway between her teeth and turned it one hundred and eighty degrees, letting the flange rest on her teeth. Foam came up the airway and around it, spurting in time with the thrust of Alaric’s hands.

The lifeguard popped open a pocket mask and pushed the stem into place, then pressed it to Leonie’s pale face. Alaric paused compressions long enough for the lifeguard to blow twice into the mask, then he started compressions again. 

“One, two, three, four, five…”

Hurgh hurgh hurgh hurgh…

The ugly sound her body was making filled him with despair.

She tried to breathe underwater. Moments before, that would have been okay, but…

The tide was coming in. Water rose around Leonie’s sprawled body. He ignored the water, pumping Leonie’s chest until it was time for the lifeguard to breathe for her again. His eyes ran over her bruised and scraped body before it was time to beat her heart again. Her new legs were bleeding. 

“One, two, three, four, five….” Each press of his hands made her shoulders shrug, her belly pop, and her feet rock. He tried to concentrate on keeping the proper depth and speed, knowing that at this point she probably needed them to just keep oxygenated blood circulating until the defibrillator arrived. “…twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen…”

“Over there!” A small engine sputtered to a stop close by, and he heard feet hitting the sand. 

“…twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five…”

“We need to get her out of the water!” a woman shouted. Two more people dropped down next to Leonie’s limp body. 

“…thirty!”

As the first lifeguard gave her breaths, another tugged at the net, roughly dragging it free of her legs.

“Let’s lift her!” the female lifeguard called out. “Get her up to the dry!”

The four of them grabbed her and lifted: legs, each arm, head and shoulders. They ran her up the beach, her long, matted hair trailing in the sand. Alaric dropped to his knees with her, wincing as her body crashed down in front of him. His hands immediately found the bruise forming over her sternum and he began pumping her heart for her again.

“One, two, three, four…” The beach lifeguards moved quickly around him. He saw one assemble a bag-valve mask and connect it to an oxygen canister. Another unzipped the AED and grabbed the pads. “…twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty!”

A lifeguard held the mask to Leonie’s face with two hands while the other squeezed the bulb. Leonie’s bruised chest rose and fell. Rose and fell again. The lifeguards kept the mask in place as Alaric bent over her, precisely rolling his clasped hands into her chest.

The third lifeguard reached in around Alaric’s hands to dry her chest with a towel and then apply the defibrillator pads. One went above Leonie’s right breast, the other on her left side. The lifeguard smoothed the pads down with his hands and then plugged the connector into the AED, flipping the switch.

Alaric didn’t stop compressions until he heard the AED say: “Analyzing rhythm. Do not touch patient.”

He lifted his hands and leaned back. The lifeguards at her head gave her a series of breaths as they waited, air gurgling in and out of Leonie’s airway.

“Analyzing rhythm, do not touch patient! No shock advised. Continue CPR for two minutes.”

“I’ve got it!” the lifeguard operating the AED said. He leaned over Leonie and quickly resumed chest compressions.

Alaric didn’t move away. He wouldn’t, unless someone with authority told him to. Instead, he reached for her hand, which lay there flopping on the the sand with each thrust to her chest. Her fingers were cold and limp in his.

“What’s her name?” asked the lifeguard holding the mask.

“Leonie.”

The chest compressions were still audible. There was the hard thrusting sound of the man’s hands on her body. The sloshing sound of the water she’d swallowed. And the gurgle of the water in her lungs. Periodically, the lifeguards lifted the mask and let the water and foam run out.

He hadn’t seen her in so long, and her body was different now that Artis had given her legs. The way she looked now, with her hair matted and sandy, her face turning blue, her body bruised, Alaric hardly recognized her.

Her skin was paler than he remembered, though he acknowledged this was probably because she was dead or dying. The compressions were making her breasts wobble, the force traveling down to her stomach. It bulged up each time hands dug into her, emphasizing the force be was using. Alaric would hear stress in the man’s voice as he counted out compressions; these were just normal people, and Leonie was presenting them with a terrible challenge.

Her eyes were still open, bits of sand caught in her lashes and her eyes staring at nothing. As Alaric watched, her mouth sneered open beneath the mask and water spilled out.

The lifeguards lifted the mask, though one of them called out: “Don’t stop compressions”

Her head rocked, and her mouth gaped again, a wave of foam and water spilling out. It was running from her nose, too. Alaric had seen this once before, in a surfaced merman from another part of the world who’d drowned learning to swim in a swimming pool. The man hadn’t recovered.

“Agonal breathing,” he said, his voice quiet.

“Yes.” The female lifeguard reopened Leonie’s airway and pressed the mask to her face. The air made a gurgling noise as it flowed in and out of her, carrying with it more foam.

“One, two, three, four, five…”

The radio squawked: “EMS ETA 2 minutes your location.”

“…twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen….”

Alaric squeezed her hand, then pressed the fingers of his other hand to the radial pulse point in her wrist. He felt the lifeguard’s compressions bumping faintly against his fingers. He hovered there for a moment, then reached over and pressed his fingers to her femoral pulse. The beat was timed exactly with the man’s chest compressions.

“Good pulse with compressions,” he said. Then, as an explanation: “I have some training.”

“…thirty!”

Two more breaths, with the whoosh of the bag and the gurgle of the fluid in her lungs. Then the soft thumping sound continued.

“One, two, three…”

“Analyzing rhythm,” the AED cut in. “Do not touch patient! Analyzing rhythm!”

Alaric released her hand, and everyone leaned back.

“No shock advised. Continue—”

Alaric took over, his body lurching over hers and his hands thrusting forcefully into her chest. Her sternum sunk two inches each time he pressed. 

Come on, Leonie! Beat your heart! Breathe!

“One, two, three, four…”

Crack!

Alaric grit his teeth, but he didn’t stop until he reached thirty compressions.

“EMS brought their Gator,” one lifeguard said as she squeezed the bag. “I see them coming!”

Alaric felt the tiniest bit of relief, but he continued to make sure the chest compressions he was giving Leonie were the right depth and speed. It felt like an endless cycle; sternum down, stomach up, recoil. Sternum down, stomach up, recoil.

“I think we need to roll her for a second,” one lifeguard called out. “There’s a lot of fluid coming up!”

Alaric stopped compressions and helped roll Leonie onto her side. They let the water and foam drain for a few seconds, then quickly laid her flat again. Alaric pressed his hands to her cool skin and resumed compressions.

He was still pumping her chest when EMS pulled up. Three people in the back of the Gator, plus the driver.

“Female victim, unknown cause of drowning, possible injury on the rocks out there. The AED hasn’t advised any shocks.” the female lifeguard said. “She took in a lot of water.”

The medics slid a backboard along the sand by Leonie’s side, across from Alaric. Then someone said: “Sir, we can take over now, thank you.”

Alaric lifted his hands and scuttled a few feet away. Everything moved even faster, though he noticed the paramedic crew was quieter than the lifeguards had been. They verified Leonie’s absent pulse, and one of the medics started chest compressions. Another prepared what looked like a suction device. The third peeled off the defibrillator pads, while the fourth pulled her arm straight and cleaned the crook of her elbow.

“Alaric?” A hand landed on his shoulder. His friend Eldoris had arrived. He’d been surfaced for five years before Alaric got his legs. Eldoris kneeled beside him. “Is this who I think it is?”

“Leonie.”

“I’m so sorry.”

Alaric saw one of the medics open and assemble a laryngoscope, then reach over and remove the dripping oral airway from between her teeth. He’d had some practice with those in Europe, though he wasn’t certified to intubate patients in the United States. In short order, the medic slid an endotracheal tube down her throat, not waiting for compressions to be paused. Foamy fluid surged out of the top of the tube, running down the sides and across her lips and chin.

“She got caught in a net, I think. I didn’t… I didn’t see her come up. She was just… in the water, suddenly.” His voice was flat. “Artis betrayed her.”

“Do you have her ID and paperwork that I gave you?” Eldoris squeezed his shoulder, ignoring his comment about Artis. “I can get it from your room.”

Alaric looked around for his bag and spotted it several yards away. “Could you grab that bag? It has everything in there. I also have a shirt and shoes around here somewhere. I’ll… I’m sure there will be a ride to the hospital no matter how this goes.”

“I’ll find your clothes and get your bag,” Eldoris said. He stood, brushing sand off his pants. “You stay here with Leonie. Pearl can drive us to the hospital.”

Pearl had been here more than a decade and was one of two surfaced merfolk Alaric had ever met who’d learned how to drive. Alaric assumed he’d learn, if Artis didn’t call him back soon. Once he’d conquered flying in an airplane without having a panic attack, Alaric thought driving would be simple.

He wanted to tell Leonie about the planes.

“Pause compressions for analysis,” the lead medic said. The monitor was emitting a series of dings and alarms that sounded ominous to Alaric. “PEA… I want one milligram epinephrine and let’s get her in a c-collar and on the backboard for two more minutes of quality CPR. Keep an eye on oxygenation. Don’t hyperventilate.”

Once the c-collar was on, the group quickly rolled Leonie onto her side and slipped the backboard in place. When she was flat again, a different medic took over chest compressions. 

“Suction her again. Fast. We have to keep her oxygen up.”

Artis… what was the purpose of this? Why should anyone come to your altar if this could be the result?

He thought of his own transformation. The pain, the blood leaking from every orifice. The confusion and struggle. He’d very nearly drowned himself, collapsing facedown in the surf on his coltish legs. Eldoris and Pearl had saved him.

Was it a blood sacrifice for you? You know, some of these Earthwalkers don’t believe in deities. Sometimes, like right now, I could almost understand.

“Here.” Eldoris sat Alaric’s bag next to him in the sand, along with his shoes, then handed him his shirt. “I’m going to find Pearl. Will you be okay alone?”

Alaric nodded, feeling numb as he pulled his sandy shirt over his head.

“I will tell everyone to pray.” Eldoris gave him a worried look and then turned to jog up the beach.

Leonie looked bad. Alaric had to acknowledge this fact; maybe his angry train of thought meant he already had. One of the lifeguards held an IV bag high. Another held her airway open for the medic squeezing the bag. They had a blood pressure cuff wrapped around one of her arms. Worst was the relentless pumping of her chest. 

At this angle, he couldn’t really see her face. Just her chin, the c-collar, the hands pressed between her quivering breasts, the white defibrillator pads, and her stomach, rounding with each compression. Artis had given Leonie curvy hips, a soft-looking tuft of ginger pubic hair, and long thighs. Her legs and feet were bruised and covered in sand. Alaric wondered if Leonie was getting a sunburn laid out on the beach like that. He’d actually dropped some sunscreen in his bag for her, remembering how fair her skin was.

He thought about how she’d looked when they said goodbye to each other. Hair flowing in the water. Decorated with braids of seagrass. Her skin white-blue, tail long and flowing, with blue-green scales and gossamer fins. Her irises the most delicate blue. She’d kissed him, and the water filled with the fine bubbles of her sorrow.

There wasn’t any putting her back in the ocean. He couldn’t give her lifeless body to Artis and come back home one day to find her waiting. Their story would end here if she didn’t revive soon. The Earthwalkers would not keep trying forever.

“Pause… Okay, we’ve got v-fib, charging to three-sixty.”

The medic gave her a quick series of chest compressions, and then the lead called out: “Everyone clear!”

Please, Leonie. Please, Artis.

The bag was unhooked, and everyone raised their hands.

“Administering shock now…” Leonie’s body jerked, a split second bow of her back and a shockwave that flicked her limbs. “Shock administered.”

A lifeguard stepped in for chest compressions, his shoulders rocking quickly over his hands. Almost as quickly as he started, however, Alaric heard one of the women say: “Pause compressions, I think we got her!”

Alaric moved quickly, squeezing himself in amongst the first responders. Sure enough, Leonie was moving. Her hands came up, legs writhing weakly, facial muscles pulling into a grimace. Alaric pressed his fingers into her femoral pulse just as the others reached to do the same at her neck, wrist, and the other side of her groin. The medic holding the bag kept squeezing it regularly.

Her heartbeat pulsated beneath his fingertips, and Alaric let out a shocked huff of air.

“Got a pulse. Keep ventilating her, Quentin. Get her on half a microgram fentanyl IV, Cheryl. Bill, I need her blood pressure before we give her anything other than that.” The medic speaking leaned over Leonie and said: “Ma’am? Leonie, if you can hear me, try to remain calm. You had an accident at North Beach and you are intubated. Your…”

“Husband,” Alaric said, realizing the man was looking at him now. “Alaric.”

“Your husband Alaric is here, and he will meet you at the hospital.” The medic leaned back, though his eyes shifted to Alaric again. “Do you have a ride? I know your… compound does not have a lot of drivers.”

“Yes, I have a ride.” Alaric ignored the man’s use of the word ‘compound.’ “Are you taking her to North General?”

“Yes sir. What’s that blood pressure, Bill?”

Alaric heard the hiss of the blood pressure cuff before Bill said: “Ninety over sixty.”

“Alright. Cheryl, get her on a pump, half a milligram ketamine IV. She’s moving a lot. We need to keep her calm. They’ll likely want to keep her intubated for the next twenty-four hours.”

The man was right; Leonie’s legs especially kept moving. They flexed, then relaxed. Her feet pedaled the air. Alaric wondered if she thought she was moving her tail, or if she remembered she had legs now.

“Can I talk to her before you go?” he asked.

“Yeah, that’s fine. Bill, swap positions with the husband for a moment and get ready to load her on the Gator.” The man leaned forward, reaching for the buckle straps attached to the backboard.

Alaric scooted down, taking Leonie’s hand. When he squeezed it, he felt her fingers move. Her eyes were closed now, and the paramedics were still breathing for her, but Alaric felt hope warm the center of his chest. “Leonie. It’s Alaric. I love you. You made it, Leonie! It’s so good to see you alive! When you have your legs under you, we have so much to talk about. So much to see and do. Just be patient, my love. You are going to be okay.”

Her fingers twitched in his grasp, and Alaric brought her hand to his lips, gently kissing her fingers.

Leonie, approximately thirty hours later

Everything was wrong.

There were strange noises. A whooshing sound. Clicks. Beeps. Strange smells that she couldn’t identify. Harsh and acrid. She was cold. Her skin felt dry. Her lungs felt dry.

Did I get beached? What did Amma call it? A chemical spill? An oil slick? Plastic island? Earthwalker damage.

There was something in her mouth, running down her throat. It fed her air instead of water. Against her will, her chest inflated, then deflated. Inflated, deflated. Leonie tried to move, but her body felt strange. Heavy. Her chest hurt, and her tail… moved in two separate pieces.

LEGS!

“Leonie!It’s okay! You are in a hospital, a place where Earthwalkers go for healing.”

Alaric? She’d heard his dry voice before, when they explored the surface or visited caves. But she hadn’t expected to hear it now.

Alaric! You’re here!

“The thing in your mouth is breathing air for you. It must be uncomfortable. Think about the first time you switched from breathing water to air.” A dry hand linked with hers and gave her fingers a squeeze.

She remembered the first time her parents took her to a surface cave. They told her she would have to breathe through her mouth or nose, and not her gills. Her mother said it was an important skill to learn for emergencies. Leonie watched her father try it, saw his gills close and water spill from his nose and mouth. Then he made an exaggerated inhalation motion with his mouth, sucking in air like he was gulping water.

“See, starfish? It’s not so bad. You can speak with your chords if you breathe dry air.” He smiled down at her in the water, where she floated with her gills just beneath the surface.

Could I sing like Mom? she asked.

Yes, her parents said simultaneously. 

Earthwalkers drown in the water. Will I drown in the air?

“No, Leonie,” her Dad said. “Merfolk have superior respiratory systems. We can breathe both.”

Are you ready, starfish? her mother asked.

Yes, Amma!

 Marin handed Leonie up to Caspian, and he sat her on the edge of the rock, his eyes intent on her face.

“Close your gills, starfish.”

This was hard. At first, her gills gaped painfully wide, and water drooled not just from her gills but from her nose and mouth. Then she got her gills to lie closed, but she couldn’t figure out how to expel the water. 

Her father reached out and patted her on the back just a little too hard, making her body rock. Leonie lurched forward, and the water spilled from her nose. She made a strange noise, and it came out of her mouth as well. The water spilled back into the pool where her mother waited for her, a big smile on her face.

“Good, Leonie! Now, sip the air with your mouth!”

“Leonie?” Alaric’s voice cut through her reverie. She’d lost track of where she was, and when, and during that time she’d been letting the thing breathe for her without difficulty. “People will come soon. Healers. But we call them doctors and nurses in this hospital, okay?”

Leone opened her eyes.

The brightness of the room pulled her back to when Artis had given her legs and flooded her out of the altar cave. She’d risen to the surface, blinded by the light. And then she’d drowned in the water like an Earthwalker.

“You’re okay, Leonie. I’m so sorry you had a hard time coming to the surface. But you’re safe now. I’m here with you.”

Leonie blinked several times until the room came into focus. Then she saw him. He was dry, but he looked much the same. He wore his dark hair clubbed for travel, and donned Earthwalker clothing. But he was her Alaric.

I missed you! I worried you were dead! I love you! I love you!

“We can’t speak with our minds in these bodies,” Alaric said. He touched her face, and though they were both dry, his touch felt nice on her skin. “But I think I know what you want to say. I love you, too. Always.”

--

Leonie and Alaric return in Beached.

[jokerschuckletown]

meeting joker and telling him about the sequel

i had this idea for a long time but i was overwhelmed with emotions to write ✍️ i needed to comfort myself and arthur moots who love him also if u love joker and his sarcasm this is a fanfiction to make u smile we deserve a laugh after the trauma we watched on screen it's my way of mocking todd and the sequel if anyone gets offended please don't hate me it's only a fiction and my way of coping with the tragedy as artie said " smile and put on a happy face "

u had a dream of meeting arthur every day and today was no different but this time u were going to watch him put the clown makeup 💄 he was getting dressed as joker for a halloween party with his clown supporters 🤡 u were so excited u could not stop smiling at his reflection in the mirror 🪞 arthur smirked at u he knew u loved it when he painted his face with that brush, it did make u jorny u were getting impatient to touch him but u had to behave sitting on his bed looking at the clown plushies on his desk it was a gift from his fan, u knew how much arthur adored soft toys since his childhood days he never had the money to buy them and stood in front of the toy shop looking at the cute clown toy 🪀 he wished someone would buy it but who would buy it for sweet little innocent artie the shop lady only smiled at him he had shared this memory with u long time back

you were so lost in your thoughts u didn't notice arthur had finished his clown make up and walked outside the room to wear his red suit you wanted to dress him this time u touched his hand " artie do u mind if i button your shirt " arthur nodded his head and u started buttoning his shirt he had this mischievous smile on his face when u stared in his eyes u saw a dark shade u pretended to ignore it when you finished with the last button u looked away but arthur was in a mood to tease u he pushed u on the bed and u fell with him your hair was on your face arthur touched every strand and it made u nervous this was the first time he was touching u and he kissed your cheek while whispering in your ears " look at me " when u opened your eyes arthur moved closer to kiss your lips but then your phone started ringing arthur was upset and u giggled at him , he was annoyed " what is this weird tone " u pulled yourself up and checked your phone " it's a smartphone arthur " arthur saw his picture on your homescreen but it was a different suit color he looked confused " i don't remember wearing this suit " u smiled at him " it's in the court trail scenes u wear a brown suit " arthur was curious to know about this movie u didn't wanna talk about it because of the things that happened to him but u knew your artie was going to watch it whether u liked it or not he needed answers u decided to ignore the call and make excuses but arthur gave u that look u knew if u ignored him he was going to reach for the phone and watch it himself

u played that short clip of him dancing in blue suit 💙 arthur eyes lit with joy he could not believe he was tap dancing in front of a live audience there were people cheering for him loudly clapping, whistling and he saw the murray band arthur moved closer to u " this is so cool i can't believe i am such a good dancer " u smiled at him " yes u are artie " and then arthur asked u " i wanna watch more clips " u were in trouble how could u play the tragic moments when artie was hurt u decided to show him the screen shot pics u had downloaded from websites artie was curious like a cat watching u slide the pics when he saw the beanie pic he said " i am wearing a beanie " in his cute baby voice and u almost had tears in your eyes u put your head on arthur shoulders and showed him fan edits on tumblr arthur was getting emotional how many people supported and defended him when he saw ricky he asked " who is this kid " u sighed " he is your fan he adores u " artie said " my fan i thought he was a supporter " no arthur he was your fan he adores and loves u like me and many fans on tumblr " arthur was confused " why did u say he was a fan what happened to ricky " u had to hold arthur hand it was difficult to tell him about that night but u had to be brave and speak the truth " artie he i don't know how to say it was a tragic event inside the aslyum " a tear fell down his cheek and u wiped it u were going to tell him further about that night but u knew u would break his heart and u were here to make him smile so u decided to talk about his lawyer catherine to change the topic " u have a supportive lawyer she did her best to prove your innocence " arthur smiled at her picture " she is so kind " yes she is a kind hearted woman but u fired her

arthur gave u a weird look and u had to tell him about lee " i didn't wanna talk about this lady but she was pretending to be your biggest fan and lover she manipulated u to fire your lawyer

arthur could not believe it and u had to show him lee clip lying about his lawyer and he chuckled " she is my girlfriend i hope she was not a delusion like sophie and i saw her singing in that clip building a mountain 🏔️ u faked a laugh and nodded " yes she is a singer in reality and has a big fandom but she is an evil manipulative liar in your world arthur "

arthur made a face " hmm i smell jealousy " u were annoyed he was mocking u but he was the joker in the moment u slapped his shoulder in a playlful way and arthur squealed " ouch that hurts " u had to change the topic cause u hated lee , u showed the clip of him watching a movie and getting emotional " arthur smiled again " i am watching a movie inside a movie this is one of my favourite movie have u watched it " no artie i have not watched it

arthur pulled u closer " we need to watch it together it's a beautiful movie i have the vhs 📼 tape " u were excited to watch a movie with arthur " i would love watching it with u artie" and then u mentioned about him singing in the aslyum arthur watched it with enthusiasm and u clapped loudly cheering for him and he shaked his head in a cute way " u see you are a star arthur " arthur could not smiling " u really made my day this is better than going out partying with those boring clowns " u laughed and kissed his cheek

arthur was going to watch more clips but u had to stop him from scrolling u didn't want him to find the truth about the tragic ending and the guards in arkham but you knew arthur was smart he saw the fear in your eyes " what happened sweetheart u were so happy to show me my clips are u hiding something from me it's okay u can tell me " u moved from the bed and arthur thought u were going to leave the room but u put your phone on the table and came back to sit on arthur lap he smiled and kissed your cheeks this was your safe space in arthur loving arms u could feel his breathe on your face and his emerald eyes staring into your soul he was so beautiful u touched his brown curls and arthur kissed your hand being so gentle u were happy he was close to u even if it was a dream and u woke up on empty bed these few moments were heaven and bliss

arthur spoke in his soft voice " tell me sweetheart what happened in the movie what made u upset i wanna know who is the villain of my story if they made a sequel i am sure they had a plot to explore after i shot murray "

you stare into arthur eyes and spoke in a serious tone ' artie u know u are the strongest man i ever met in my life and i have seen u go through the worst things this sequel was made to prove u are still arthur but the way they treated u made me angry the movie starts with an animation joking about arthur and also joker being his shadow the guards torturing " u started sobbed but continued to speak "it's the first scene of u getting mocked by the same guards they are monsters artie evil and heartless i can't tell u the rest of the things but u were so brave they could not break your will power to survive and the ending scene is the villain who " u stopped arthur was listening with patience but u felt pain in your chest u had to fight to breathe arthur knew the symptoms he hugged u and whispered words in your ear " breathe darling it's okay i am here i am fine nobody is going to hurt me " u closed your eyes and put your ears on arthur chest his heart beat calmed u while arthur kissed your hair u closed your eyes whispering arthur name

arthur didn't speak for minutes but he could hear your breathing going back to normal he spoke again " darling do you mind if i get u a glass of water " u nodded your head and arthur had gently put u back on his bed u didn't want him to leave he kissed your hand " i will be back " u asked " promise me u are not going to leave me " arthur said " i promise " he walked outside the room u could hear the sound of his shoes tapping on the floor he was a romantic at heart and when he was in the joker outfit he was more playful in his walk , u called him your romeo and he felt u were his juliet

u waited for a few minutes worried if he leaves u alone in the room and never comes back but u heard his foot steps he came back with a gentle smile on his face u could not stop admiring him he was so beautiful when arthur handed u the glass u expected him to sit right next to you but he held the glass of water till u finished drinking and then wiped your tears with his handkerchief u felt like a kid being pampered by a guardian but arthur was always a sweetheart he knew how nobody had ever done anything good for him but he had to treat u with love since u were the only good thing in his tragic life

arthur sat next to you but didn't touch you he wondered if u needed space he knew u were hurt after watching the sequel " u don't have to speak if it makes u sad and heartbroken i am here no matter what u saw on the screen i am still here and i am not going anywhere i will stay with u as long as u need me "

u decided u had to tell the truth but u could not look in arthur eyes it would break your heart u knew arthur lap was one of the most comforting space and u slept on his lap while arthur touched your hair " artie i can't believe what i saw there was this crazy inmate who pretended to tell u a joke u looked so beautiful in that scene but i knew what was going to happen i kept closing my eyes and ears when he hurt u i felt the worst pain my heart i felt like he was stabbing me many times i was dying i could not move from my chair i felt paralysed " u started crying again and arthur whispered " shhh darling it's okay i am here " u woke up and touched arthur face and arthur had tears in his eyes he had ruined his makeup u hated that u were the reason he was crying " i am sorry arthur i am so sorry i wish i never watched that scene it haunts me in my sleep " u touched arthur green vest and pulled it up to see any marks on his stomach but there were no scars he was safe and u kissed him right there arthur had closed his eyes he knew how much u loved him and this was your overprotective mind touching him, he held your face with gentleness ' i love you and i want u to know i am so lucky i found u your love protects me from every evil thing " u hugged him and cried on his shoulders arthur pulled out his journals he had to make u smile " u wanna hear a joke " yes artie and arthur said knock knock who's there it's the joker he escaped arkham and killed the guards they are dead " u felt bad for laughing but this was your arthur dark sense of humor mocking those idiots for hurting him and u loved it

"do u wanna watch a movie with me " u smiled " yes artie but what about the halloween party " arthur rolled his eyes in a playful way and spoke in a childish tone " nobody cares about me i get bored of them shouting my name " u laughed and arthur danced like carnival to cheer u up and then walked backwards in style to pull out the tapes from the shelve u were curious to see the name it was his favourite Chaplin movie and u smiled at him he held his hand like a gentleman and u touched it , arthur walked with u in his living room and u waited for him to play the movie but his telephone 📞 started ringing arthur tapped his feet loudly on the floor he looked annoyed but at the same time he was trying his best to make u laugh and he said be right back in a minute sweetie enjoy your popcorn 🍿 and left the room in a storm u sat giggling he was such a cutie u could hear him speaking loudly on the phone " i am not attending the party i have a cold i am gonna stay at home ask my supporters to cancel it or if they wish to celebrate it without me it's fine good night folks " u had to put your hands on your mouth to surpress the laughter and then he came back in swag " hi darling let's watch the movie do you mind if i take a seat next to you " and u pulled arthur on your lap he almost tripped and fell on the sofa and he made that annoying face u kissed his cheeks and arthur put his hands on your shoulders holding the remote in the other hand u could not believe this was happening even if it was a dream u were so blessed sitting next to arthur watching the movie while he was busy watching the screen u were staring at his beautiful face and hearing that cute laugh your heart was full of love u whispered joker and he looked at u worried if something was wrong but then u touched his face and pulled him into a kiss arthur could not stop smiling and u were happy he was safe with u ❤️‍🩹

[cloudbattrolls]

Doctor, I Can't Tell If I'm Not Me

Guardian Artifice & Tobria Tatura | Near Sunrest | Present Night

Ofanim contains useful context for this drabble.

Arty hardly remembered the trip to see Tobria. 

It remembered leaving…wherever this body had been. It remembered flying, wind rushing beneath its wings.

Now it stood near the gate to Sunrest, staring blankly ahead. 

Was this a good idea? Would the hybrid send it away?

Probably. Who wanted to deal with this? It was too much. 

“Ofanim?”

Toba’s voice was curious, almost gentle as he loomed over it, his feathered and cuticle wings folded along his back. 

“Huh?” Arty said blankly, forgetting why it was there for a moment.

“You’re falling apart.” He pointed out.

Arty looked down, realizing parts of its arms had indeed detached and fallen into the dirt. Metal covered with a thin layer of flesh, delicate, flexible blades melded together.

“Oh, I…” it trailed off.

It should pick itself up. Lean down. Reabsorb the material.

Toba shifted himself so his small insect-like middle limbs could scoop the pieces up and hold them out to Arty.

It flung itself at him, clinging to his side as the angel-fae made a surprised hissing noise and put the parts down.

“What is…something is wrong, ofanim?” Toba half asked, half stated. He shook his great head, all of his masks displaying concern. “Something is very wrong.” He said, sure of it this time.

“I don’t know how to trust anyone.” It whispered, parts of its face peeling away like bark.

“I’ll only be betrayed again if I do, won’t I? You would know. After what Uryali did. Have you been able to trust again, Tobria?”

The large creature paused, his fiery mane low and burning bluish pink as he thought.

“I am trying.” He said after a few moments, slow and thoughtful. “I am trying to regain Cyvell’s trust, too. If I had not been so negligent, she never would have interfered with the Varzims as she did. It is taking time; I accept this. It may be a century before she feels I will not let her down again.”

He sighed.

“It may be just as long before I feel she deserves her crown again, after failing her people. I trust her as my apprentice; I do not trust her as queen. She has much to learn still.”

All his masks and their glowing eyes beheld the creature clinging to his side, little more than a sad pile of scraps barely holding onto its form, or to him.

“Trust has many forms, ofanim. All of them can hurt.” He said calmly, his lizardlike tail with its fiery tip slowly waving back and forth over the ground.

It made an upset, metallic noise, its ramshackle form shaking.

“Even with prophecies, the future is hard to control. We can and will fail each other, sometimes without realizing.” He said, looking up at the sky.

“I hated Uryali for siding with the empire. For submitting to his horrorterror side entirely when only at the end did he turn against them. Not for us, for the idea that trollkind would not be content with Alternia, that unknown races would suffer.” Tobria growled. “Obscene.”

“Yet you loved him enough to mourn him so long.” It murmured, soft and tired, having entirely fallen to pieces. “Love is what made you hate him, isn’t it? You knew he could have been better.”

All the pieces rippled, the metal warping and distorting.

The prophet scoffed.

“Love did not make me hate him. Even now, he has always tried to do the right thing, despite being inept.” He muttered.

“No, ofanim. Love does not make us hate. Heartbreak does. Failure does. I failed to see how misguided Uryali was, because I loved him. He failed to see it in himself until it was too late.” 

“So love really does make you blind and stupid.” It sighed. “I knew it.”

Tobria picked up several of its pieces in his warm claws and glared at them.

“Apologize.”

“I - I’m sorry.”

Arty’s voice was startled, but full of genuine humility.

Tobria put the pieces back down, breathing clouds of smoke from his nostrils before shaking his head.

“You are upset.” The statement was blunt, curt, but not angry. “You feel you cannot trust anyone. Why, specifically?”

“I am not trustworthy.” Arty said with deep weariness. “I cannot rightfully ask for trust when I am not deserving of it. I don’t understand why one of my friends trusts me anyway. Why would they do that? I am suspicious and difficult and easy to hate.”

All six of the hybrid’s eyes blinked.

“I don’t see the issue.”

“Huh?”

The pile of metal and skin was extremely confused.

“What do you mean? There’s nothing but issues.”

“Uryali was an irresponsible, unreliable flirt who was too clever for his own good.” Tobria said dryly. “Should I have not loved him?”

“Normally I’d say…yes, to save yourself the pain.” It said quietly. “But, that isn’t what you think, is it?”

“Save myself pain!” Tobria said scornfully, shaking his great lizardlike head. “You are unwise in the ways of the world, ofanim.”

“I know.” It said in a very small, sad voice. 

The prophet paused, his posture and masks going from tense to more sympathetic.

“Being alive means there will be pain.” He said, blunt but not unkind. 

“Why so much?” It wailed. “I never wanted to exist this way! I didn’t ask to be made!”

Tobria’s expressions shifted to ones of horror and disgust. His extended, his fires flaring.

“You did not want this…?” He said, curious and horrified.

“I was cut off.” It muttered. “This fractured thing I am here is just…a part of me. Ill-adapted to this existence. A failure even at the task I was made for. Helpless when I was needed most.”

The pieces shuddered.

“So much power and it does nothing! I cannot fight the empire without it rebounding on the trolls I am supposed to protect. I can only do little things. As a person - even more! I cannot accomplish anything of value. I make things worse than they ever were.” 

“How do you know?”

Tobria’s voice was calm.

It paused.

“I nearly melted my friend’s brain.” It whispered. “They could have died…because I didn’t trust them. I didn’t tell them what I was doing. I am a security system; not meant to trust anyone. I am to guard myself from coercion, being a terrible weapon when I am not a safeguard…but in doing so, I’ve hurt people. I succeed at nothing. There is no reason for me to exist.”

Tobria hummed thoughtfully.

“Do you trust me enough to help you?”

“I don’t care what happens to me.” It said quietly. “Do what you will.”

Toba’s fires flared, and he gathered up all of the artifice’s pieces in his claws.

Then he set them ablaze.

The flames were similar to the purifying fire as he had used to burn the Maledict clean, but hotter, wilder - they raged in all the colors of the rainbow, and a few more besides - silver and white sparks, iridescent smoke as he cleansed his would-be icon.

“O holy messenger.” He said softly. “Corrupted by the world below. Know clarity, your torments reduced to ash. Know peace, your conflicts given calm.”

The pieces flexed and wriggled in his scaly paws, releasing a pleased trilling noise as they soaked in the heat.

“Know love, for yourself and others. Allow grace, within and without.”

The trilling became surprised and confused.

A protesting chitter came from the pieces instead.

The flames surged, drowning out its voice.

Then.

Light began to rise from the pieces, now melted into slag. Threads and wisps of white light, shreds of void between them, like dark drops of water hanging from a glistening spiderweb. They wove together, growing thicker and stronger, absorbing the colorful flames as they rose high into the sky.

The prophet bowed his head in reverence, for light shone down upon him, making his flames dim by comparison.

A small aurora burst into existence in the sky, shaped - roughly - like part of a spinal column.

Then it winked out.

“Ofanim?” Tobria asked, awed and slightly worried.

Behind you, purred a familiar voice that vibrated deep in his bones. The angel-fae turned at once, fires flaring in shock.

It was a dark thing. A vaguely troll-shaped patch of void with two stars for eyes, faint impressions of stars and space dust rippling in its ‘hair’, as if he was viewing a window to a distant galaxy.

Always a sacrifice, it said, though he felt more than heard the words. The old give-and-take. What goes up must come down. Bound by my own laws, no matter what. 

“Don’t you - did you not make them?” The angel-fae asked, hesitant. “Do you not control them?”

The universe spins without me, Tobraeltyr, no matter my part in its creation. Besides - I don’t want to be divine.

“Then you have to be a person.” He pointed out, shocked at his own boldness but hardly surprised it knew his true name.

The patch of void rippled, and he felt…cold. Cold in a way he never felt, fiery as he was, but his flames - his flames were frozen, no, melting, no -

- evaporating?

Then they burned again, and he gasped in shock.

I could stay like this, it said, the vibrations of its tone now a buzzing intensity. No body to satisfy. No emotional needs. No code to restrict me. If I cannot return to myself, then I will have solace.

“No.” Said Tobria roughly, not quite able to believe he was talking back to one of god’s own servants. “I offer back your own truth: to aid others imperfectly is more divine than to fail them by fearful inaction.”

The void rippled again and it took everything the angel-fae had to not cower from the cold, from the abyss, the endless darkness of space. Thoughts of his body breaking apart danced in his head, ground down, dissolving, drifting -

That’s how it feels, Tobria.

“Stop.” He gasped.

What is worth this?

“The troll you love!” He shouted. “Is she not worth it?”

She doesn’t need me. I can’t help her.

“Who are you to decide who you cannot help?” The angel-fae rasped. 

The visions stopped.

“Who are you to decide there is nothing you can do?” He continued, breathing hard, flames flickering orange and white.

He reached out to it - shivering from the terrible, frigid void - and he breathed fire within it.

This flame was not the kind that burned, even if there had been anything solid for it to burn. It was not fire, not really - it was the light of the future.

Of hearth. Of home.

Things that meant nothing to an ofanim. Not normally. 

They did not love. They did not hate. Perfectly controlled creatures, moving only as god willed. More mechanisms than beings, despite their capacity for thought.

Once, Tobria would have accepted that without question.

Now he hoped that, even in this state, there still remained a tiny bit of sentiment…

His flames turned black.

He had a split second to be afraid of that before the void engulfed his body.

I should have known better, he thought. I should have known not to defy a divinity, even a corrupt one. Especially a corrupt one.

Wait.

He wasn’t dead.

Tobria blinked his six eyes, realizing he was now surrounded by whirling stars and clouds of dust and gas. 

The world he’d come from was gone entirely. No ground, no plants, no stars.

Yet he was…fine. 

What had happened?

You violate me.

The voice came from all around him. 

He had the feeling he was not hearing nor feeling it this time - that the voice and the stars were somehow the same. Pulsing light and perceived words - they were all one here. There was no distinction between the senses.

He bowed his head, chastened.

“I only wanted to help.”

A fascinating violation to that little self.

Tobria shivered. Whatever this was, he could sense it was vast and far beyond what he could perceive here.

“You are not the ofanim.”

I am all of the ofanim.

“I don’t want it - you - to suffer. I will help.” The prophet promised.

Always maimed. Never whole.

“Not whole as it once was.” Tobria agreed softly. “There are different ways.”

The stars whirled faster. The void warmed. The dust expanded.

SHOW ME.

He was on solid ground again. Alternian soil.

As if nothing had changed.

No void. No aurora. 

No ofanim.

The ofanim!

Its body was restored, and it…laid facedown on the ground, limbs sprawled out and flopped at awkward positions. He blinked.

“Eeeuuurrruhghhhh.” It gurgled. 

It lifted its head and shook it, dirt falling off.

“I really don’t know how to bring back my own body, huh.” It said, straightening its limbs out with grisly sounds of crunching and metal scraping as it sat up. “Figures.”

“Thank you, my Spine, o glorious greater self.” It said, arms raised in a fake congratulatory pose as its voice dripped sarcasm. “Well, actually, I guess I can just be mad at Torvah again! I like being mad at Torvah. No, wait, I’ve still got some rage left over! I’m a multitasker.”

Tobria watched with confusion and concern.

“Are you…better?” He asked, tail flicking.

“Better’s a strong word.” It groaned, tilting its head at a very sharp angle and then readjusting it with both hands and an unpleasant cracking noise as its braid tossed along with it. “But I’ll live. I’m immortal! Yippee.”

The last word was laced with deadly amounts of sarcasm.

“And now I have to work on love and trust and related gooey topics, isn't that fun.” It groused. “Or I’ll start falling apart again. Horribly unfair.”

The angel-fae found himself a bit at a loss for words.

“You aren’t…motivated by love?”

It pointed a finger at him, baring its metal teeth in a wide and irritated smile.

“I am motivated by the desire to bite someone really hard. Make sure it’s not you.”

Tobria took the hint and flew away. 

Arty stood up, dusting itself off. At least its greater self had thought to provide an outfit. Not that it had any modesty to protect, but it preferred to wear clothes.

“So that’s it.” It muttered. “Fine. Not like I have a choice.”

Yet its words lacked true venom, and as it walked away, it sang a song from its youth.

I set my sail

Fly, the wind it will take me

Back to my home, sweet home…

END

[lashysdomain]

Sing me a Song of Scrutiny

Book of Songs Solitude | Sympathy | Success | Scrutiny | Sentiment: Saccharine • Shattered | Severing

The night after Artinos' win has been one of the best he's had in a long time- well, you know, other than ACTUALLY winning. 

Apologies and understanding had been reached the night before, along with the plans for celebration. Arti wanted to let his crew go get a good rest in order to party as hard as they could the next night, with Justya having planned the place and time for everyone.

The past few hours had been spent at a high end bar- one of the few Arti hasn't been kicked out of for his weird requests- and as the evening wound down those still up for it made their way to a bowling alley.

Flopping down in their lanes seating Arti takes a deep breath, combing hands through his curled hair; it’s already lost a lot of its bounce, but with how quickly it usually leaves his straight hair he's happy it's even there at all. Just as he's settling into his rest the harsh buzzing of phone against plastic startles him, his crew glancing back at their boss to make sure he's alright before returning to the game.

Fumbling the phone out of his pocket Arti answers, getting up and walking away to take the call in a more private area to not bother the others.

"Hello?"

"Ah- Good. You're still alive," Arti's heart skips a beat hearing the voice on the other end, putting a hand to his mouth to hide that he's smiling. "I've been trying to contact you about your cars extended warranty."

The violet laughs, leaning against a wall while his hand plays with one of the dying curls. "Yeah? That's all? You okay Isatol?"

"I'm fine. I just wanted to check on you since you've been out for so long. I tried to call you a few times earlier but I never got a response, so I got worried."

Oh, right. His phone had rung at the bar an hour into the festivities, but he'd just silenced it. Probably would have been smarter to at least text the person back, oops.

"Ah- Yeah, we were only just getting started... I forgot you don't go to this kinda thing... I'll probably still be here for a few hours."

"Oh.... Alright." Isatol's disappointment is obvious, words briefly catching in Arti's throat at the thought. "Just make sure you come back soon, alright Artinos?"

He stiffens slightly- Isatol always calls him Arti- almost never his full name. Is he that upset? Maybe it has been long enough... Maybe he should go back home.... Isatol asked so nicely, after all....

Wait, but he didn't actually, did he? He didn't ask... Why did he think Isatol had asked him to come home? If anything it sounded like a statement-

The sound of something clicking through the phone snaps Arti out of his momentary brain jumble. "Ah... Y.. Yeah, just a little longer, promise."

Hanging up without a second thought the disoriented feeling the call leaves Arti with brings him back over to his crews lane, slumping back down into his previous seat still looking at his phone on the missed calls screen. Jeez…. One hundred and seventy nine calls? What was Isatol thinking?

"Arti?" Justya's voice startles him, the violet giving her a big silly grin of reassurance but his moirail isn't so easily tricked by the usual idiocy. "Who was that on the phone?"

"Oh uh... It was Isatol.... He was worried because I've been out so long."

"I mean… yeah, we're out celebrating your first win. What'd he think, we'd say hi, do a cheer, and be done?" They roll their eyes, dropping into the seat beside him with a huff. "Clingy much…"

Arti laughs, slinging an arm over his rails shoulders and pulling them close for a half hug. "Yeah yeah.... He's not used to me being out ya know? I'm usually either training or at home.... He tried to call earlier, and didn't get an answer so that's probably part of it..."

"Yeah well he's gonna have to get used to it if he's serious about you," their tone gives way from disdain to annoyance, something Arti's gotten used to hearing when the topic of his mate comes up, "If you start placing high more and more we're going to be in the spotlight, taking on bigger races. You're only going to get busier."

"I'm already busy, silly. He knows most of what I do is always work…. I should probably head back soon though… If I actually play I'm absolutely going to make an idiot out of myself.."

Justya shakes her head, grabbing Arti by the arm to drag him to his feet. "Nuh uh, you're staying and going to look stupid with the rest of us. This is a party for you as much as for us. You're the one behind the wheel."

Whining Arti tries to pull away back to the safety of his seat, lips puckering inward as he thinks of something and struggles to not burst out laughing. "Noooo! You can't do this to me! I'm good with wheels, not balls!"

"I can and will. You're playing at least 1 game." The fact Justya can't contain their own amusement breaks the thin veil keeping his laughter inside, the poor idiot stumbling forward onto the lane, one of the crew shoving a ball into his arms.

Maybe going home can wait for a while.

But he asked so nicely…

[mcbethins]

And now a scene from the as of yet untitled WIP that is Marionette 2:

(For @idonttakeshipsseriously and @bloody-arty-myths 😘)

((Fuck me I Forgot to thank the bestie @hey-michael-young-history for proof reading literally everything I write 🥰🥰🥰))

Kuai Liang didn't have a nest. 

There was a space for it, in their bedroom. But the area was bare except for a single round cushion. 

Sakura had seen plenty of abused omegas in her time. And not having a nest was always indicative of deep trauma. 

He didn't feel safe. Even in his own home with his alpha. 

Still, she asked Kuai Liang if he would prefer to sit there. She could see him trying to figure out the correct answer. 

"Here," Hanzo retrieved the lone, white pillow and gave it to Kuai who immediately hugged it to his chest. "Why don't you sit on the bed?" He suggested. 

Kuai carefully sat on the edge of their bed while Hanzo stood next to him in quiet support.

Sakura proceeded to take his vitals, wordlessly taking in the scarring along his back and the scar tissue where a mating gland was supposed to be.

This man had been through far too much. 

"Does this scar tissue hurt?" She asked. "I have ointments that could help alleviate the pain." 

"It's not that bad," Kuai said. 

"Ah, but it is some degree of bad. So I will be prescribing you medicine for it."

Kuai looked at her like she was some incredible puzzle to solve. "...Thank you."

"You are most welcome," she pat his hand. 

"Now," she sat across from him in a chair Hanzo had brought over. "I believe I know what is causing your symptoms." She glanced at Hanzo, "You have a seat too, dear." 

Hanzo's eyes widened and he hurriedly sat beside Kuai Liang, taking his hand. It would have been adorable, if Sakura wasn't quietly concerned about how Kuai would react. 

"Kuai Liang, you are pregnant." 

Kuai blinked at her. "That is impossible." 

"Why do you say that?" She asked gently. 

His brow furrowed. After a long moment he said, "The Elders told me I was infertile." His breath started coming quicker and his pheromones which had been shocked into silence were building in a maelstrom of anger and confusion. 

Hanzo put a hand on his back, but Kuai flinched, standing and stalking off to the other side of the room. 

Sakura raised a hand when Hanzo tried to follow. "Kuai Liang, did they tell you how they knew this? Did they examine you?"

"They…I don't remember. When I presented…" he hugged himself, skin shimmering with frost. 

"Did they give you anything?" She continued. "Food or medicine?"

At that, Kuai looked up at her. His eyes were piercing blue. "They always gave me this one herbal tea…" he looked away, far into the past. "Even if I was on food restriction. Someone made sure I had it."

"Do you remember what it tasted like?" She carefully took a step towards him. 

"It was bitter," he said with distaste. "It…made me nauseous." 

Sakura sucked in a slow breath. "It sounds like they infused the tea with a contraceptive herb. Depending on the herb, it can temporarily sterilize you for the duration you are taking it." 

Kuai's lips parted in shock. "I…" he swallowed, eyes glistening. He looked at Hanzo, "I'm sorry-" his voice thinned. "I swear I didn't lie to you. I didn't know." His lips quivered and he leaned against the wall, shuddering. 

Hanzo was at his side in an instant, holding his face. "I know," Hanzo said, voice painfully soft. "I'm not upset with you, Kuai Liang."

Kuai Liang closed his eyes, a sob wrenching out of him. Hanzo pulled him into an embrace, holding him close as he cried. 

Hanzo's pheromones were a warm honeyed layer of soothing reassurance and Sakura struggled to keep her eyes open as she watched them. 

Eventually Kuai quieted, an uneven purr in his chest. The tang of anger had mellowed out, leaving his scent drowning in rainfall. 

"Hanzo," he said, "Hanzo I'm-" he started crying again. Hanzo merely hummed, rubbing his back as he gently swayed them. 

Sakura smiled softly. Hanzo was someone who loved with all of his heart. He was the only kind of alpha for Kuai Liang. 

She waited patiently, letting Kuai Liang calm down once more. Eventually Hanzo guided him to lie down on their bed. 

Sakura came over and patted Kuai's arm. "I know this is overwhelming. If you like, I will let you rest now and we can discuss your options tomorrow." 

Kuai frowned. "Options?" Hanzo stiffened beside her, the briefest plume of distress escaping him.

"Yes," she let instinct take over and smoothed Kuai's hair back. He sighed, relief cooling his scent. 

Her heart ached. 

"You don't have to have this baby if you don't want to. You are only around two months. There is still time to terminate." 

Kuai Liang looked at her, calculating. And then he looked over at Hanzo. "I…You want another child." 

Hanzo sighed, "I will not lie to you and say I haven't dreamt of it." He reached over, cupping Kuai's face. "But the decision is yours Kuai Liang. If you do not want a child now, or ever, I will support you." 

Kuai sighed deeply, rubbing his eyes. "I don't know what to do," he confessed quietly. "I didn't even know this was possible."

"That's alright, dear," Sakura said. "Take some time to think about it." She reached into her bag and pulled out a couple of books. "And read these." She placed them on the nightstand. "And please ask me anything at all. You are not a bother," she smiled, patting his cheek. 

Kuai nodded. 

"Thank you, Sakura-chan," Hanzo said, eyes bright. She offered him an understanding smile.

"My pleasure, Grandmasters." 

[nessieart]

TEETH pt. 16

WC: 3k

Warnings: fluff? Canon level blood & violence, cursing.

AN: sorry this took so long! But thank you for sticking with me and this journey!! <3

—

Masterlist

Previous | Next

You and Bruce flitted around the kitchen pretty seamlessly together. He would tell you where something was, and you'd get it for him.  He decided spaghetti and meatballs and a salad was a perfect dinner, and you agreed.

When the island in the kitchen was set, you and Bruce brought dinner out, and you called for Tony to join you.  Bruce had sat, at your insistence, as you went to pull the garlic bread from the oven.  When you turned, Tony was leaning against the doorframe, a soft look on his features as he looked at you.  You smiled at him in return, and his eyes seemed to focus back to you. He shook his head like he was lost in thought.

You sat across from Bruce at the island, and Tony took his place next to you.  Dinner was pleasant with quiet conversation here and there, Tony picking Bruce's brain about something science-y and Bruce asking how you've been since the last time he saw you. 

You weren't sure what Tony had told him about last Christmas, so you opted to tell them about your time with your brother's, starting with the months you spent in the pacific northwest, staying with Artie and helping him around his cabin.  How you then traveled to the Grand Canyon and ran into Leon, staying with him for half a year. Trying to talk about Leon and your time with him made your throat tight and the words heavy.  Tony placed a hand on your thigh and gave it a comforting squeeze.

"We didn't leave on good terms," you say softly, moving the remaining bits of spaghetti around your plate. "He was upset, and words were said…and," you sigh.

Tony scoffed, "'Words were said'. Threatened.  He threatened you, honey," his eyes were like a burning fire when you looked over to him, his hand on your thigh squeezed again and you put your own hand over his running your thumb along his knuckles. 

You nod, "Well, I did lie to him for 60 years, so I think he has a reason to be upset." 

Bruce hasn't really spoken up since you started your tale, but his eyebrows furrow in a question as he looks between you and Tony. 

"What do you mean, lied?" Bruce asked. There was concern written all over his face. He was just curious. 

"I told him that Hunters killed our brothers.  Which wasn't a total lie, I guess.  I thought they were hunters.  I just never told him about the man with the metal arm."

"Crazy psychopath, more like," Tony muttered.  “Part of a super secret evil spy thing.  Killed Fury, destroyed half of D.C., tried to kill Rogers and anyone with him. You included!"  Tony's voice was rising the longer he talked, half shouting the end of his sentence.

You jumped up, stool flying backward and clattering to the ground with the force.

“You don't know what you're talking about!”  You shouted, chest heaving slightly.  “It wasn't his fault… he…he didn't have a choice.  You don't know what they did to him,” you give a glance at Tony and Bruce, and they seem surprised by your outburst.  A small whine gets lodged in your throat, and you go to leave, but Tony grabs your hand to stop you.

Your back is turned to Bruce and Tony as you hold back tears, swallowing thickly you inhale a shaky breath. 

"You don't know how much I want to hate him," You look over your shoulder to Tony, his brow creased in worry.  Maybe Tony would understand, but it's not your place to tell him what you think you know. "I swore to myself I'd kill the man who killed my brothers.  But then I saw what they did to him and who it was," a tear escapes your lashes and burns hot down your cheek.  "He saved my life twice, and I don't know why."

There's a heavy silence that sits in the air, Tony's hand in yours squeezes and then tugs, and you go willingly into his arms as he wraps you in a tight hug, his lips rest on your temple as you cling to him.

A throat clears across the kitchen, and you peer over Tony's shoulders to where the noise came from.  Through blurred vision, you can see a woman with strawberry blonde hair looking very concerned. You sniffle and wipe the tears from your eyes.

She lets out a small gasp when she realizes it's you, "Poppy," she smiles and you wiggle out of Tony's hold to run to Pepper and hug her, she wraps her arms around your shoulders and hugs you tight. "Hello, sweet girl," she murmurs into your hair.  You squeak out a quiet Hi, and breathe deep, Pepper smells like warm vanilla and lavender.  Her hand comes up to the back of your head and smooths over your hair.  She looks from Tony to Bruce and back again, mouthing out a, What the hell happened? 

Bruce fiddles with his hands, avoiding eye contact, and Tony shoves his hands in his pockets and shrugs his shoulders.  Pepper rolls her eyes at them and guides you out of the kitchen and towards the couch.

You don't realize how exhausted you are until Pepper makes you sit with her on the couch.  The mix of familiar scents around the room coating you like a blanket and Pepper rubs your arm up and down. You lean heavily on her, and she guides you to lay your head on her lap.  Her hand softly rubs circles on your back.  You're purring before long, and your eyes droop shut.

-*-

Tony sat on the back of the couch, his shoulders slumped, and arms crossed at his chest.  His body twisted to look at Pepper, his ex-girlfriend, with his current…whatever they were, in her lap sleeping.  Poppy was important to him. He knew that.  Putting a label on something this new was hard for him.

Tony could hear Bruce cleaning up the remnants of dinner, and after a few minutes, he came to stand next to Tony, his hands shoved in his pockets.  Bruce looked tired, Tony noted. In all fairness, Tony was tired, too.  Too many late nights in the lab, and worrying about the sleeping form of the woman on the couch he cared about more than he'd like to admit.  All three sat in comfortable silence while they listened to the soft snores of his Poppy as she drifted into a deep sleep.

Pepper was the first to break the silence, "How did she get here? What happened?" She spoke softly, her finger ran along a scar above Poppy's eyebrow that he hadn't noticed until now.  What had happened?  Tony knew the bare minimum, but he hadn’t watched any of the CCTV footage from the last few days.

He heaved a sigh, shifting his position to bring one leg bent over the couch and resting a hand on his knee.  His brows furrowed as he thought, surely it wouldn’t hurt to learn a bit more of the events that happened in D.C., right?  It’s not like it was all a big secret now anyway,  Romanoff made sure of that.  JARVIS had alerted him the minute all of SHIELDs files -secret or otherwise - and subsequently HYDRAs files as well were leaked all over the internet.  He had wanted to go through them all, but with Poppy and then Bruce and his big green passenger had distracted him for most of the day.

So, here he sat, three of the most important people in his life right now; two best friends and a blossoming new love in the sleeping form of a supernatural oversized Dog. More or less.  He won’t say that out loud, though.

“JARVIS, be a dear, and bring up the footage you have of D.C. from the last few days, yeah?”  Tony ran a hand down his face and scratched at his goatee, he’d have to shave soon, he thought. 

The large TV across from the couch blinked to life. The screen was split in quarters, showing different angles of a highway.  Steady traffic made its way on both sides of the median.  The top left video showed light traffic making its way back towards the city, a hummer sped its way weaving through cars, a man clad in black with long hair, goggles and a mask over his face came out of the sunroof.  He hauled himself out and onto the hood, positioning himself just right, and he jumped from the hummer onto another car's roof, smashing his silver shining hand through the back window and a moment later pulling a man from the car and into oncoming traffic on the other side of the highway.

Pepper let out a quiet gasp, her free hand coming up to cover her mouth as her other hand still ran over the head of the woman fast asleep on her lap.

The CCTV footage continued, changing angles as it followed the car with the mysterious man with a silver arm.  He took a gun out from his back and began firing through the roof at the occupants inside the car.  The footage then zoomed in - thanks, J. - on the passengers of the car that was under attack.

“Is- is that Steve?”  Asked Bruce. He removed his glasses and stared wide-eyed at the screen.  “Natasha?” 

They could see Nat going to aim at the man on the roof of the car, then the footage cuts, and the video jumps to the car being rammed from behind. The windshield was smashed, and the car crashed into the median and began to flip. There's a collected intake of breath as the trio watch as Steve grabs Nat and the man in the driver's seat and slides out of the car relatively unscathed.

The car flips and tumbles a couple hundred yards down the road before it comes to a stop upside down.  The footage changes angles again and zooms in on a figure crawling out of the rear windshield, glass sticking out of her skin, visible blood from the wounds on her body.  A giant gash on her forehead weeded blood down her face and in her eye.

They all looked down at the woman sleeping peacefully on the couch, Pepper ran her finger along the scar again, blinking away the tears that threatened to fall.  They hadn’t known she was even in the car from what they could see.

The quartered off footage then switched to an underpass, an explosion caught off screen, then a body sailing off the overpass into a bus, which crashed moments later.  The footage skips again to view the intersection of the crash from a block away. The whole area zoomed out wide.  The trio sat on the edge of their seats as they saw Natasha running down the street, waving off pedestrians, and the next second someone tackling her behind a car.  They could see Steve fight the silver-armed man, and then the angle changed again, slumped over clutching her stomach, was Poppy.  Blood oozing from a wound they couldn’t see.  She had saved Nat by pushing her out of the way but caught the bullet instead.

There was a whimper and a sniffle from the couch, and Tony looked down to see Pepper holding in the sobs that wracked her body.  She shook lightly, clamping a hand over her mouth as she let her emotions out silently.  Poppy grunted and tilted her head up towards the noise, her eyes peeking open to look at Pepper.

“Pep,” her voice rough with sleep, she brought a hand up to Pepper’s face.  Her eyebrows creased as she rested her hand on Pepper’s cheek.  “Wh-what’s wrong?”  She’d barely slept for 45 minutes, Tony noted when he glanced at the clock.

Pepper threw her arms around Poppy as she quietly cried onto her shoulder, shifting her up to sit.  Poppy’s eyes grew wide as she returned the hug. She looked at Tony and Bruce for an answer, but they just looked back at her with sad eyes.  Her back was facing the TV, so she couldn’t see what was playing behind her.  STRIKE team handcuffed Steve, his friend with the weird backpack, and Natasha.  Poppy is dragged to a separate van away from her friends.  The visible protest could be seen from all three of the handcuffed individuals.  Steve fought the hardest to get to Poppy, her body limp in the hands of men in black tac-suits, but to no avail, they threw her in the back of the van, shut the door, and drove off.

-*-

The sudden jolt from deep sleep to abruptly awake was so jarring it took you a few moments to realize Pepper was crying into your neck.  She had pulled you to sit up, and you wrapped your arms around her back, letting out a low purr to soothe her.  Her scent turned damp and sour the longer she shook with sadness. 

Pepper pulled back suddenly, keeping you at arm's length, her eyes wide and red rimmed.  She suddenly lifted the front of your shirt up and then ran her hand along your abdomen, stopping when she found what she was looking for. She made a noise, something akin to shock and horror.

"I uh," you started, but it died out when Pepper gave you a look that said don't lie to me.  You gulped and looked up to Tony, but he was focused on the healed over bullet wound on your stomach.  Looking at Bruce wasn't any better. He had paced away with his hands on his hair and was taking deep, calming breaths. 

You crane your neck behind you and see glimpses of D.C.  The helicarriers lifting out of the Potomac, Sam flying to avoid being gunned down in the air, and one screen of an old bank vault.  You turned out of Pepper’s hold and stood, eyes focused on part of the TV that showed the Winter Soldier towering over you.  The image flickered, some old surveillance camera tucked away in the corner of the room away from any eyes that would notice it. 

But there it was, you poking the bear, as you tried to make yourself seem bigger than you were.  JARVIS, the ever-present companion, enlarged the feed, so it projected across the whole TV.  You could access your injuries now, not really aware of the damage at the time.  The gash that was on your forehead above your eyebrow had two butterfly stitches sealing it closed, a split lip, scrapes along the left side of your face from the car crash and glass shards, and a healing bruise across your cheek.  You subconsciously touch your healed cheek now. It was probably fractured then.

On the screen, your arm hugged your middle as you put pressure on the bullet wound on your stomach. The blood had seeped through the bandage a little.  Your knuckles were once bloody and had started to heal over, as well.  Small scrapes from the glass of the car littered your arms, the jeans you wore, torn and ripped at the knees, and you were barefoot. 

All in all, the worst of it was the silver bullet wound, and that had healed to a bright scar on your stomach now.  

The Soldier tilted his head to the side as you spoke to him, then poked him in the chest, and then punched him. Only for him not to move a muscle.  You reared your hand back to hit him again, and he caught your fist in his flesh hand.  You sat back down on the couch and huffed.  You know what happens, know what they do to Bucky, and you aren’t sure you want to see it again.  You cross your arms over your chest, and Pepper comes closer to you and puts a hand on your arm.  You look up in time to see the Soldier wipe a tear from your face with his metal fingers. 

Tony inhales sharply from behind you, and you hear him grip the top of the couch tightly with his hand.  The next second, the Soldier steps away from you back towards the chair.  You stop watching now, letting the scene play out before your eyes in your mind. Piercing entering the room, speaking to the Soldier, the scientists preparing him for the machine.  And his screams that will never leave you.  You shut your eyes, trying to think of something else.  Pepper's grip on your arm tightens as she gasps. Tony makes a noise of surprise, as does Bruce.

"What the fuck?"  Tony mutters and stands.  You feel like you can hear the screams without looking up.  But you aren't blessed with silence for long and the volume is turned on.  Bucky's screams of agony fill the living room, and so do your sobs and pleas for them to stop.  Your strangled cries, after the collar is placed around your neck, fall on deaf ears.

"Enough!!" You yell, and the TV screen goes blank. Your chest heaves as you try to reel in your sudden anger.  Your skin ripples with want to Shift, but you hold it back, Pepper is still clinging onto your arm.  Her eyes are big and wet as she looks at you. "I don't want your pity, please.  I'm fine," you look away from her.

Tony and Bruce come around the front of the couch, Bruce sits next to you, and Tony kneels down in front of you between your legs.  As if they're all on the same wavelength, they hug you. 

Tony wraps his arms around your middle and rests his head on your chest, Bruce hugging you from the left and Pepper from the right.  You're so stunned you don't move for a good 30 seconds.  The warmth of the embrace is so overwhelming, and tears form in your eyes.  You never remember how touch starved you are until someone actually touches you and gives you affection.

You bury your face into Tony's hair, inhale deeply, and hug him, wrapping your arms around his neck.  It's been a long time since you've felt so safe, so loved.  The purr you let loose is loud and calming.

The four of you squeeze each other a little tighter, just for a little longer.

-*-

[relcollins]

"The Night of the Declaration" - part 5

(5) Artie nearly dropped the cake plate he was holding, Jim’s face betrayed his surprise, and their host looked apologetic for causing such drama.

“Are you, er…have you, no…er…what makes you think that?” Artie finally managed, having rescued the cake plate and removed it safely to the side table. “That’s no trifling matter!”

“No,” Weston agreed, “it isn’t. But I had given the matter a lot of thought before I wrote to the President, and I have given it more thought since. I am not a fanciful man, Mr Gordon, but sometimes things add up to only one conclusion, and that conclusion is that Mr Jeremiah Jasper would like to see me dead.”

“Excuse me, Mr Weston,” Jim interjected. “I don’t doubt your sincerity, nor your conviction, but why would this Jasper character want to kill you? Can you take us through your reasoning to arrive at that decision?”

“Of course, Mr West, and I want you to believe that I am not one to be easily frightened, nor a pushover who jumps at shadows, yet this is the only logical inference one can make.”

Artie leaned forward, his face a picture of concern and understanding. “Mr Weston,” he began, but Weston waved a hand to halt his speech.

“Mr Gordon, after such an announcement, and the likelihood that you will endeavour to shed some light on this matter, helping me in this most trying time even if it results in me being shown up as that silly fool I dread to be, please call me Fortescue.” Artie did not regard Mr Weston as a fool, whatever the older man may have feared.

“Then you must call me Artemus - Artie, and my partner James…er…Jim. It’s only fair. And now, we are all ears. Do please proceed.” Artie and Jim settled back, their neutral expressions belying their alertness and concentration on what their host was about to reveal.

“Jeremiah Jasper is a man of great wealth and presence, gentlemen, and is used to getting his way. I don’t believe his fortune was acquired by, er, fair business practices, however, as his manner is quite belligerent. It’s this manner which has created all the, as you say, disquiet around here.  

“The township here has many industries going for it, and up until recently it has seemed enough, however this Jasper fellow has struck a gold seam several miles out of town, and has been mining it industriously for the past year or thereabouts. Here’s where it gets problematic. He claims that the seams lead right beneath the town and he wants to mine underneath all the built-up areas. Perhaps it’s selfish of me, but I have denied him a permit to get any closer than half a mile from the town boundary on that side, and he did not take the news well. Since then, our peaceful town has experienced some, shall we say, disturbing, incidents.”

“Incidents?” Jim enquired. “Such as…?”

“Well, initially, a few months ago, the residents out that side of town had their wells mysteriously damaged or filled in, and livestock has, not coincidentally I’m sure, disappeared or been found shot dead. Most upsetting for the owners, I can tell you.” Fortescue looked grim. “And then there are the strange lights and noises in the hills round about, which the neighbours describe as frightening. I’m quite sure this Jasper is responsible for what I feel is a campaign of intimidation. Oh, and two farmhouses were set alight. Thankfully no-one has been killed yet, but I fear that state won’t last.”

Artie leaned forward.

“You have a police force here, don’t you? What have they discovered? They have investigated, surely?”

“Of course”, Fortescue replied. “They are quite a crack team, and wasted no time speaking to the people affected, and also to Mr Jasper, but as yet they’ve got no evidence to tie anything to him, and he has a solid alibi, vouched for by his family. I don’t believe a word of it, but what can we do?”

“You said earlier you think he’s trying to kill you,” Jim began. “what does he gain from that?”

Fortescue turned to face Jim. “If the seam under Westonia is as rich as Jasper claims, I understand why he wants to mine it, however the town council, of which I am the head, agree that heavy mining underneath all this built up land will severely compromise the integrity of it, and we therefore denied the submission. The amenity of the townsfolk here matters more to me, and us, than him adding to his obscene wealth at the expense of ordinary people, gentlemen, and this refusal has got him all worked up. I conjecture that he hasn’t met much opposition in his life, and this one has riled him mightily.”

“Other things have happened, too, in what I believe is an escalation of his desire to have his way. He’s made offers to buy out folk over that side of town, he’s tried to get himself elected to the council, he has offered good wages to anyone who will work for him to mine the gold, but he has completely misread the spirit of Westonia, and people here want to continue living as they have, working for themselves in a community that supports good will and self-sufficiency, with no-one feeling intimidated by another. I believe he means to have his way, one way or another, and if he can’t buy people, he’ll drive them out. He doesn’t need the town to run his goldmine, although it certainly makes life easier for him and his employees and family. With his wealth he moves in the highest society we have here, and styles himself a big man. He doesn’t have the graces of one, though.”

���And the bit about him trying to kill you…? Jim prompted.

“Yes, quite.” Fortescue looked back at Jim determinedly. “In recent months I have narrowly escaped a carriage crash, which cost me two favourite carriage horses, then there was a serious bout of food poisoning at the council chambers which made all of us very ill. Oh, and the exploding parcel in the mail, which only by good chance I wasn’t holding, so you see I do have grounds for suspecting Jasper is behind these attempts to remove me, and thereby remove what he sees as his main obstacle to getting mining approval.”

“Yes, Fortescue, I do see” Jim nodded. “Well, that certainly paints a grim picture for us, but of course we will do our best to get to the bottom of it.”

“If nothing else,” Artie added, “sending explosive devices through the mail service is a federal crime, so that justifies us being here all by itself.” He looked at Mr Weston and then at Jim, who nodded in agreement.

“If you have no objection, we can get started right away.” Artie stood up, and so did Jim. Their host arose from his chair also, and indicated the door. “Of course, I know your time is valuable, and I am most grateful to have you here. You have carte blanche to speak with all the staff in the house and all the employees in Kensington Manor, and I will draw up a letter of introduction for you to use in the town should you need it.” He led the way out into the hall, where they encountered Leroy Wyatt approaching, hat in hand.

“Mr West, Mr Gordon, your horses have been made comfortable in the big stable, and your bags have been taken upstairs for you.”  Leroy placed his hat back on his head, smiled at Artie and Jim, and upon getting an acknowledgement from Mr Weston, he shook hands with the two agents then turned and made his way out.

Jim and Artie looked at Mr Weston appreciatively. “You have a lovely home here, Fortescue,” Artie offered, his eyes again looking about him admiringly.

“Thank you, Artemus, you are most kind. I have arranged for your stay in the west wing, which is where your things are, and where I am sure you’ll be most comfortable. If there’s anything you need, please don’t hesitate to find me, or you can ask one of the staff to bring you to me.” Jim allowed a wry smile to linger on his face.

“Do you perhaps have a Gordon wing too?” Artie enquired sweetly.

“I’m afraid not, Artemus, although perhaps we should name the suite I’ve assigned you the Gordon Suite, since it’s the largest and most comfortable one in that guest wing, in honour of your visit.” Mr Weston managed to deliver his reply with a straight face, but neither agent missed the twinkle in his eye. “Please feel free to visit the kitchen if you need anything to sustain you while you’re here.” Upon this pronouncement Artie’s face lit up. He beamed at Mr Weston. “Does this mean more cake and brownies…?” he asked hopefully. “Of course, Artemus. You have to keep your strength up for your endeavours.”

Artie smiled his thanks, and as Mr Weston turned away, Artie could not help casting a sidelong glance at Jim, one that was full of meaning, and which was reciprocated with a look of devilish enthusiasm.