#this is waaaay longer than it needs to be i have got to shut up

[bravevolunteer]

VERSE — MOVIE ( CONTAINS SPOILERS & CANON DIVERGENT, tw for canon-typical themes & suicide mention )

just to get straight to the point : it's mainly canon divergent in the sense that i will be altering details in order to make mike an afton. do i think this is going to happen in the movie timeline? no. do i think it's more likely that they're going to explain the oddly personal kidnapping through mirroring the emilys? probably. but it's MY michael afton blog and i can put on my tinfoil hat as much as i want about it. of course i am willing to adapt based on other's info / preferences but given that this isn't my main canon anyway it is meant for those that are interested.

Mike thought he knew everything there was to know about what happened to his family: what he was never told is who his real father was. He was too young to remember anything about William Afton before his mom separated herself from him entirely ( one night stand, breakup, what have you, i'm not picky- ), so he always thought of the father he grew up with as his dad, the reality never changed anything about that.

Until he was twelve years old and Garrett went missing, and everything fell apart. William followed the Schmidts there, taking Garrett in a targeted attack ( whether or not he was trying to grab Mike, took him out of spite, anything else is also flexible ). Everything grew solemn and tense, each of the Schmidts lost in their own individual grief. Slowly, they stopped having dinners together, stopped going out as a family, stopped being able to feel like things were normal. The grief and guilt only added to Mike's developing anger issues and depression. Although it wasn't on purpose nor with any malicious intent, his dad was the more distant of his parents at the time, serving as the first hint towards his biological parentage and simply because as much as he cared for mike, he was grappling with losing his biological kid ( think tse henry- well meaning but drowning in grief enough for the child to pick up on it ).

This is where Abby comes in, where the Schmidts have another kid in an attempt to feel like a normal family again. It almost seems to work, although there is still that underlying sense of collective grief. Mike was older by then, too ( while he graduates high school, he either doesn't go to college at all or doesn't finish it ).

Their mom dies and the brief sense of possible stability disappears again. It's when Mike is staying at home again for the funeral/to help with Abby that their father commits suicide, unable to take the grief. Mike has had custody of Abby since then.

The events proceed as they did in the movie, William's recognition of Mike in the office not only stemming from the kidnapping but the fact that it's his kid, although Mike doesn't find anything out beyond the fact that it's the man who took Garrett. There is potential for more hints towards this in past interactions with his aunt or birth records or even his dynamic with Vanessa, but for the most part this specific realization is left open.

Following the movie's events, he... does come home to his aunt in the living room. After reporting her death, Mike actually goes back to Freddy's one more time to get security footage in order to prove his innocence. Afterwards, he does his best to hold down another job to keep taking care of Abby in peace, but something about Freddy's gives him the sense that he'll come back to make sure nothing like this happens again.

[star-going-supernova]

You wrote a few times about the old animatronics and Vanessa would you mind writing about them and Gregory?

Maybe the new animatronics are jealous over how much time Gregory is spending with them. Or just how the old animatronics admire Gregory for sticking up to good ol SpringB***h and how brave and kind he is.

Gregory deserves an army of animatronics that would kill for him and adore him.

That just reminded me of the meme “I only had __ for a day and a half and if anything happens to him I would kill everyone in this room then myself” lol

We’ve got tumblr generated prompt number 16 here! I got waaaay too into the setup for this, lol, so it’s a bit long. Who am I kidding, a bunch of the ficlets for this round have been longer than usual. And I don’t know why, but when I write the OG bots in SB’s setting, I have a preference for leaving them silent. 

Speedrunning a Family

On that first night, so full of panic and running around and grabbing only what he needed before he could be cornered, Gregory barely spared a second glance at the dusty animatronics packed into a room in the basement. The only real thought he had about them was the hope that they wouldn’t join the hunt as yet more potential threats to his life. And then he forgot about them, and they never did make an appearance, and that was that. 

After, though, after murderers were caught and viruses were removed and injuries healed up, Gregory remembered the four worn-down animatronics. And he got curious. 

He spent a lot of his days and nights in the pizzaplex now that no one was trying to kill him, and his new robot friends were pretty busy during the day, leaving Gregory to entertain himself. 

What could be more entertaining than investigating the animatronics who, he was told, were the very first iterations of the band? 

It was easy as anything, sneaking around places he definitely wasn’t supposed to be. No one, not guest or employee or robot, noticed the boy slipping through supposedly secure doors and down hallways that were off limits to the public. It was barely a challenge at all, even, compared to the absolute STAFF-bot-infested hell the pizzaplex had been on That Night. 

They were right where Gregory remembered they were, a bear, bunny, fox, and chicken tucked away in the shadows, forgotten. 

Almost forgotten. 

He sneezed a few times as he poked around them, and that was hardly stealthy. Being furry instead of smooth plastic and metal made it harder to clean them up, but Gregory was highly motivated and refused to get caught because of a dust bunny. 

They didn’t look so bad once all the dust and grime was wiped away. Clearly well-used, yeah, and with their fair share of dents and tears, but the suits were still fluffy and soft no matter how discolored they were. 

It took more time and effort to find a way to recharge their dead batteries than it did to clean them, but again—highly motivated. Gregory simply refused to back down from a challenge, especially when the reward was so promising. To his luck, all the stuff related to these particular animatronics had been shoved into the same storage room. Once he found the charging cables—much easier to deal with than stations—it was merely a matter of fixing up some exposed wiring and dealing with a bit of rust, but it was only a few days after Gregory initially set out on his quest that he got them all recharging. 

He sat back with a book, stayed close to the door just in case, and waited.

• • •

It seemed fitting, in a way, that Freddy was the first to power up. His head lifted from its slouch forward surprisingly smoothly, his blue eyes flickering a bit before firmly staying on. Gregory watched with bated breath as he looked around. 

In silence, Freddy examined Chica, Bonnie, and Foxy—Gregory had done his research—where they were still limp and shut down. And then he noticed Gregory, sitting on the floor a few feet away. He blinked at Gregory; the snap of his eyelids coming down was audible in the quiet room. 

Unafraid, Gregory waved. He had considered whether he should be on his guard and prepare to shoot up and sprint from the room at the first sign of trouble but ultimately deemed it unnecessary. Even if only because these bots were bulkier than the Glamrocks, and he doubted Freddy would be able to stand quickly. 

After a brief pause, Freddy reached up and tipped his little top hat in greeting. 

Gregory beamed and scooted closer. “I’m Gregory. Do you know where you are?” This was the moment of truth. Were these old animatronics aware the way the Glamrocks were? Or were they no more advanced than the stupid STAFF bots? He crossed his fingers. 

Freddy examined the room at large for a moment, then shook his head. Undeterred by the silence, Gregory inched closer still. 

“It’s storage,” he explained, and Freddy watched him attentively. “We’re in the basement of another pizzeria. Yours is gone—sorry—so I guess you could consider this your retirement.” 

And though Freddy’s mouth didn’t move, deep, echoing laughter came from within him, and he shifted back against the wall in a way that read as getting comfy. 

Oh, they were going to get along just fine.

• • •

The Glamrock animatronics never seemed quite sure what to do with the four old ones. Freddy—Gregory’s Freddy, or maybe, his first Freddy—had said they didn’t talk ever, not even over their internal communications system. Other than some programmed sound bites, like Freddy’s laughter, they relied solely on gestures and body language to communicate. 

And Gregory, as it turned out, found it an easy language to learn. 

He loved all the bots—though not necessarily equally, heh—and that most certainly included the old models. Partly as a joke, given their age, and partly because he couldn’t reasonably go around calling both Freddys by name, he started calling the older one Grandpa Freddy. Then it shortened to just Grandpa, then Pops, and, well, there were two Chicas too, and even with Glamrock Bonnie gone, it would have been confusing, and then Foxy got huffy about it, and at that point, Gregory would have felt bad about leaving him out. 

So that was how he ended up with a father figure in Freddy, assorted aunts and uncles (and grunkle for Foxy because such a crinkly looking word fit best for him, and Foxy liked having a title all of his own) across both generations, and Nana for Chica and Pops. 

Gregory was living the dream: he had literally gone from zero to nearly a dozen family members, and he’d bite anyone who said they couldn’t be his family on account of them being robots. 

It occurred to him at some point that maybe the buried pizzeria had been theirs, so one night, he brought them down. And as they explored the ruins of the building with nostalgic familiarity, Gregory told them about the monster even further below them, the one that had tried very hard to kill him. 

He told them of how he had killed the monster instead. 

Pops fell still as Gregory finished describing the final showdown. He turned slowly from where he stood in front of the broken stage, and his eyes were dim. 

That could mean any number of things. “Pops?” Gregory asked, swinging his feet beneath the wobbly table he’d taken a seat on. “You okay?” 

The others all stayed where they were, watching in silence. He was used to their quiet, but even this felt different. Pops walked up to him, his feet scuffing against the debris littering the floor. 

With a burst of static, a crackly recording played from Pops’s speakers. It wasn’t a sound bite, wasn’t anything Gregory’d ever heard before. It was a proper recording, a memory brought to life. 

It wasn’t much, just a man laughing. But it wasn’t really a happy sort of laugh. 

After a moment, Gregory recognized it. The monster had laughed too, when it seemed that he would succeed in taking over Freddy. 

“Oh,” he said. 

Pops’s body heaved a little, like a great sigh, and then he was reaching out to scoop Gregory up. He was maybe a little below average height-wise for his age—malnutrition did him no favors—but he never felt smaller or lighter than he did when any of the animatronics effortlessly picked him up and cuddled him close to their chest. 

He wondered, as he latched on to Pops’s soft fur, if this was a hug to comfort him or Pops. No good could come from knowing the monster, and if what he’d almost done to Freddy and the others was any indication, Gregory doubted any animatronic who crossed the monster’s path came away better for it. Whatever the four original robots had witnessed or were unwillingly part of, he didn’t know. He didn’t have to know. 

Gregory pressed his forehead to the curve of Pops’s jaw. “I’m here,” he reassured him. “And you’re here, and he’s not. He’s gone.” 

As ever, Pops didn’t respond with words. His hand pressed a little more firmly into Gregory’s back, holding him tight. It felt a bit like agreement and relief and maybe a touch of protective anger that the monster had been a threat to Gregory at all. 

“C’mon,” he muttered. “Let’s get out of here.” 

A hum that was more vibration than sound answered him, and Pops turned to leave the pizzeria without releasing Gregory. He huffed in amusement and rolled his eyes over Pops’s shoulder at the others as if to say can you believe this guy? 

They left the buried building behind, and Gregory got the feeling that they wouldn’t be returning any time soon. 

[tvitr]

uwu I don’t make the ruwules

(Okay fine, reasons/opinions below the cut but be warned! I won’t be holding back on game or book spoilers. Or rambling. This got longer than I anticipated lol)

BETTER IN THE BOOK

Eis “Fireman Sam” Glover: I don’t know what the game was trying to do with this one. I guess he gets overwhelmed by the fire and loses his composure or gets scared or... something?  Also why did he not bring a hose. Or a mask.  This is why so many reviewers thought Wonderworld was a metaphor for purgatory and all the inhabitants are dead I swear. Who cares, the book handled it a lot better. I wouldn’t say it’s perfect, but there’s definitely a good idea here with some interesting themes. The gist is that he feels ashamed following his captain’s orders to retreat during a serious blaze, which his colleagues disobeyed, and his colleagues are later hailed as heroes by the press.  Is Balan the Book trying to take on toxic masculinity...? How brave. Tl;dr, the book conveyed the story a Hell of lot better than the game. Honestly I’m surprised this is the only one.

BETTER IN THE GAME

Haoyu “Airplane Boi” Chang: So the book tried waaaay too hard to draw a parallel between Haoyu and Fiona (aka, Dolphin Girl) to the point that they both share a similar backstory, in that they had a hobby which led to a near-fatal accident and now they’re too traumatised to resume said hobby. And that’s not a bad thing per se but... “near fatal accident” was already Fiona’s backstory. We didn’t need a duplicate. And this is more personal preference, but I kinda liked Haoyu’s story in the game anyway. His failure at building a functioning aeroplane out of crap he found in his garage is endearingly funny in the game, and the resolution of him taking time out to sit down and study before building anything is a nice spin on the whole “if at first you don’t succeed” theme the chapter wanted. 

Sana “Bird Lady” Hudson: So the book decided they didn’t want to make Cal an angry sore loser so guess what? They made Sana an angry misanthrope. Wonderful. Okay maybe that’s harsh, but she definitely came off as very bitter and unsympathetic in the book. Like there’s a scene at the end where she harasses a firefighter and tries to steal a fire engine because they’re working on a building fire and not supervising her park. That’s not a character you wanna root for. That’s a Karen. The game had a better plot thread and resolution to her story rather than a boring cookie-cutter “humans vs. nature grrrr humans are so evil” story, like the game story here had a bit more depth to it and approached the topic more maturely than the book did. Which is ironic considering how hilariously edgy the book gets sometimes, but I guess throwing a few smashed eggs and frozen bird skeletons into your story doesn’t mean anything if you’re still going to paint such a black-and-white narrative.

Iben “Frozen Elsa” Bia: This story didn’t need dialogue. Like... we don’t need her to justify why she’s upset her parents are dead because we’d already assume that. They’re her parents! Of course we’d assume she’d be upset! They died! Simultaneously! That’s horrible! WE DON’T NEED HER TO EXPLAIN THIS! Also her dialogue in the book was... pretty terrible, not gonna lie. Like if you’re gonna insist on dialogue at least make it gOOD. I’m actually planning on just reviewing her book scene so I can fully articulate just how bad it is anyway, so stay tuned for that mess lol.

FINE IN BOTH

I mean there’s not really too much to say here but anyways:

Jose/”The Farmer” having a family in the book gives him a bit more depth, even if we never hear from them again after his backstory dump.

Fiona/”Dolphin Girl” almost drowns in a slightly different way, with a dolphin straight up pulling her mask off rather than knocking it out of her mouth, and the book also goes more into detail about her love for diving and dolphins. Also the book ships her and Haoyu like. So hard. Like they never shut up about how similar they are or what they other’s doing or if the other’s okay or not. By the end of it I was expecting them to just start making out in front of everyone, they’re that obsessed with each other. And it would be funny if they didn’t use this to wreck Haoyu’s backstory like I mentioned earlier.

Yuri/”Bug Kid”/”Is that a Pokémon reference?” is now being kinda bullied for liking bugs, which yeah gives her more depth and reason to be upset but I also kinda related to her just being that One Kid with interests that nobody else had. But it’s not as bad as some of the other changes, so I can let it slide.

Atillio/Clown and Bruce/Old Man are the same, nothing to say here.

Lucy/”The Artist” is a total drama queen but then again so are Art People so I can let it slide. I did like them changing her problem from “artist’s block” (seriously?) to her feeling too under pressure to create masterpieces, unless that’s what the game was aiming for? Oh who cares.

JUST A BIG MESS

Cass “Dead Cat Girl” Milligan: This is a weird one because the story is the same between the game and book (though the book mentions she witnessed a more severe car accident rather than a speeding car which she assumes kills the cat, and the cat isn’t even her cat, it’s a stray) but the story itself is... flawed. According to the book, they wanted to convey the idea that running away from the accident was irresponsible, and she just needed to look back and she’d see her cat is okay, but the game kind of makes it look more like Balan turned back time to save her cat, and the book mentions a serious car crash which I don’t think anyone would willingly return to. I feel there’s a better way to convey this idea of being responsible for your pets, like say her cat escapes from the house and gets lost, and her resolution is going out and properly looking for it. That’s a more effective (and natural) way to relay that message, especially as they weren’t going to commit to the idea of grieving a lost pet.

I’M CONFLICTED

Cal “Chess Daddy” Suresh: God this was a tough call. On one hand Cal’s game backstory is one of the ones most YouTube players single out as the weakest backstory in the game. He’s just “that guy who lost one game of chess”. Being right before Iben’s level certainly doesn’t help. I could honestly write a separate post about how bad the story placements are in this game but that’s too long for here.  On the other hand, I still... kinda like it? Like I like this idea of him being a sore loser with a bad temper who needs to learn some humility, sure it’s not as serious as “I almost drowned” or “my parents are dead” but one of the few good things about the game is that it balanced “serious” stories with “benign” ones, if that makes sense. HOWEVER His book scene is... probably one of the best written in the whole book. Which isn’t saying much, but it felt like it hit the intended degree of darkness that the rest of the book was trying to hit. One of my main issues with the book is how much it edged up everyone’s backstory, which doesn’t sound bad but when you have 12 characters with edgy backstories to sit through, it starts to feel like a 14 year old's first attempt at writing an angsty fanfiction very quickly. And yes, Cal’s story is dark and angsty but it felt like the perfect balance of dark and angsty. Or as perfect as the book can get. Like even Balan’s annoying rhyming dialogue sounded good for the tone of the scene. Man maybe I should just do a review of both his backstories in a bigger post.  Obviously I could be biased because I’m a sucker for chess aesthetics and dark skinned men with long permed hair so I’m just putting more thought into him but still.

[script-nef]

How their relationship gets revealed (iv)

Characters: Lev, Iwaizumi, Sugawara, Kuroo

Category: fluff

Haiba Lev

The only reason Lev chose his current agency is because of you

Yeah, the agency is famed for being really good and putting the artists as its priority and all so he was interested, but the fact that you were going to be one of his seniors sealed the deal

You’re kind of his idol and he’s bought every single one of your photobooks and magazines 

When he gets the chance to shoot an ad with you, he hops onto it with no second thought

And when he sees you in your outfit, looking amazing as hell, he nearly faints right there and then

Pulls a lot of NG because you’re waaaay too close and he can feel his face burn up. He’s absolutely sure you can hear his heart trying to break out of his chest.

But you’re so kind and understanding that he falls in love with you even more

Asks you for your phone number and keeps on dropping hints that he likes you but at the same time tries to rein it in since overly affectionate people can be uncomfortable (at least, according to his sister)

He’s not really good at this pulling and pushing thing which makes it even cuter and you accept his confession

He’s basically on cloud 9, just endlessly happy at the fact that you’re going out with him. You. And him. Lev regularly pinches himself to see if he’s dreaming.

But then a news of you dating another incredibly famous model breaks and he gets pissed

And in the spur of the moment, he uploads a video on his SNS account about it

“[Name]-san is dating me! Don’t believe fake news!”

As soon as he uploads it, he realises what he’s done

But it’s too late. At least 2,000 people have seen it. By the time he takes it off, the number grew to at least 4,500

Needless to say, the company was not impressed but thanks to that, the baseless news died down once they released an official statement

And now you’re allowed to go on public dates together, much to Lev’s glee

Iwaizumi Hajime

You worked as one of MBSY Black Jackals’ managers and transferred over to the National team during the Olympics

Iwaizumi became one of the people you talked most to since Hinata, Bokuto and Atsumu were always getting scolded for their lack of restraint when practising

Eventually you two grew close and found out you actually have quite a lot in common, other than constant exasperation for your troublesome hyperactive athletes

He asks you out on a date, face blazing red and eyes darting to every place that isn’t you

It was quite adorable under the blinking street light after he walked you home

Of course, you accepted and thus began the secretive dating while trying to win gold for your country

Displays of affection in workplaces were usually in the forms of glances or sitting closer during meetings and your hands lingering on each other’s longer while handing files 

Some of the sharper ones—e.g. Komori, Hoshiumi, Yaku—kind of caught onto the vibe between you two but opted not to say anything

After all, Iwaizumi was more lenient if he was in a good mood, and that usually happened after he spent time with you

One day, at a dinner after winning a major match, he got absolutely wasted

Everyone was taking videos since he’s always the straight-laced and serious one, but now he’s all soft and giggly

And you tried to stop him from drinking even more, and he just stares at you

“I—Iwaizumi-san?”

*stares*

“You… really need to stop drinking, it’s not goo—”

And bam he just pulls your face to his and kisses you. When everyone’s watching. And they’re recording this

He lets you go and just immediately conks out

Leaving you with a red face and at least 15 pairs of wide, unbelieving eyes

Sugawara Koushi

If the students had to pick their favourite teacher, it would be a tie between you and Sugawara-sensei

Literally everyone—ranging from other teachers, PTA, students—love you two

In all seriousness, who wouldn’t? You’re both loving, kind, always stay behind for kids whose parents are running late, bring tons of sweets and so on. 

Somehow all the students collectively think:

“[Surname]-sensei and Sugawara-sensei are so cute together!”

“We should nudge them together!”

“Operation Romance is a go!”

And they subtly (in their opinion but in reality not so much) try to hint at how good you guys will be in a relationship

Such as:

“Do you like that, [Surname]-sensei? I think Sugawara-sensei likes it as well! You two share a lot of interests and tastes in things.”

“You both graduated from Karasuno High? You guys have so much in common!”

It’s incredibly obvious and you both catch onto it by the second time but it’s absolutely adorable so you try to turn a blind eye to it

But then the students come up with a “scheme” to finally pull you two together for good

It’s a school festival and yours and his class decided to collaborate for a theatre play

And they hire you and Sugawara as two childhood friends who slowly fall in love

Any complications are shut down

“Um, you guys do know it’s supposed to be a class play, right? As in, students acting, not teachers?”

“But [Name]-sensei, we don’t know love yet! You and Sugawara-sensei are adults! We’ll do the writing and everything else!”

“But—”

“No buts!”

And somehow the play goes along well and you have a blast with everyone. It’s really funny to see how such little kids are so creative

At the end of the act, you and Sugawara get married and you realise this is what they’ve been scheming

“Aha! You’re married now! No take-backsies!”

“Hmmm, well okay… but you guys wanna know a secret?”

“?”

“We’re already married.”

Kuroo Tetsurou

Kuroo is incredibly well-liked in his department

He’s friendly, funny, helpful, knowledgeable in volleyball and full of enthusiasm—and with his good looks—a perfect co-worker

His nickname is “Mr Perfect From The Promotion Department”

Everyone in his department likes him, platonic or otherwise

A large majority of the workplace population have tried, and failed, to go out on a date with him

He rejects them all the time with a bright smile and a “sorry!”

They eventually find out it’s because he’s already dating someone and a lot of hearts are broken that day

He’s still very much loved, though

You wake up to your very rare free day which is always used to laze around the house and binge some new anime

But when you trudge into the kitchen, Kuroo’s neatly packed bento is sitting on the island counter

He forgot it for the first time since he has a vital meeting today and was stressed out over it

So being the amazing partner you are, you decided to bring it to him

Over in Kuroo’s company, he just closed a huge deal and the whole department is happy

He was going to eat his bento but seeing as it was gone and he didn’t want to disturb you on your day off, he just opted to tag along with his co-workers to a nearby restaurant

The moment he walked out of the building coincided with you arriving at the front door with his lunch and he just. Stops. And just runs to you while all of his friends call for him.

“[Name]? What are you doing he— Did you come to give me my lunch?”

“Um, yeah… It’s fine if you’re going to eat with your co-workers, I’ll go back home.”

“No way! Sorry, guys! I’m going to have to miss out today!”

Everyone just watches while he smiles dopily and hugs the life out of you even when you’re threatening him with violence to “get off! Your co-workers are all watching!”

And he takes you into the building so he can eat in peace and occasionally feed you away from prying eyes

[btsslowburnfic]

The Arrangement Chapter 5

Series Summary: Desperately in need of money, you answered the questionable ad. AKA-Arranged marriage AU featuring Y/N and Yoongi.

Chapter Summary: You go to BigHit for your second interview and are surprised to learn the client is a familiar face. 

Author’s Note: TY everyone for reading <3 I am here for the awkward flirtation in this chapter XD

Previous chapter here ---------

You returned to your jobs for the next few days without hearing anything. On Tuesday you received an email **Google Calendar invitation: Audition/Final interview. Very Personal Assistant. BTS Corporate Accept/Decline**

You found yourself strangely nervous as you prepared for the interview. You didn’t actually think you would get this far. You picked out a basic black dress and some cute flats for the day before you left the house. Personal assistant/girlfriend/wife wasn’t exactly a job you had interviewed for before. You found it difficult to focus at your desk all morning; your stomach doing flip-flops. Would you be meeting with Dimples...er...Namjoon again or would you be meeting the client? You had said you didn’t care what the guy looked like, and that was true, but you would like to meet a person and speak to them before making such a big commitment. Before you knew it, the time had come. You hopped onto the subway and headed for the middle of the city.

You entered the BigHit Building with sweaty hands and were waived over to the front desk where a Security guard verified your information. Your throat was so dry you had difficulty answering basic questions. Great. You headed over to the elevator. As you were waiting for it to come down you noticed a tall man wearing a baseball cap stride confidently into the building and right past security. He walked over to the elevators and stood next to you. You glanced up at him. Holy shit that was the famous model, V.  You quickly looked back at the elevator door. You had totally forgotten that models worked here. I guess If I end up working here stuff like that is just normal, you thought to yourself.  The two of you entered the elevator.

“What floor?” He asked, his voice deeper than you would have guessed. You had only seen him in print ads, although you knew he had done some commercials as well.

“22nd please.” You willed your voice to stay calm. How dare a super gorgeous model invade your space and make you nervous when you were already nervous.

“Me too,” he flashed a smile. A very cute smile that made him almost look like a little kid.  He turned back to face the doors saving you from making any awkward small talk.

The ride lasted about a minute, with a few other people entering and exiting. By the time you arrived at the 22nd floor it was just the two of you again. V was a gentleman and gestured for you to exit before him. You did, but then you had to pause and decide which way to go. You looked for a directory. 

“Namjoon’s office is on the right, Jin’s is on the left. And since Jin is out of the country, I’m guessing you’re on your way to Namjoon’s.” V said as he strolled off the elevator and to the right.

“Thanks.” You follow him. “I am meeting with Mr. Kim today. I appreciate the directions.”

“Any time. Hey Jimin.” he said as the two of you entered a wide open area with couches, window views, and a large reception desk. A man who also looked like he could be a model was sitting there, his blonde hair styled absolutely perfectly. “Hey V.” He responded without looking up.

V looked over at you with a grin, pointing to Jimin, then shrugged his shoulders . He found this situation funny. You walked over to the desk. “Umm Excuse me. "

Jimin jumped back in his chair, very surprised. “Shit. where did you come from?”

“I’m so sorry,” you said, covering your mouth with your hands.  V laughed in the background. “We got off the elevator at the same time. You must not have seen or heard me.”

“V. You did that on purpose!” Jimin shouted around you, pointing his finger. V cackled and had a seat on one of the sofas.  

You were beginning to apologize again when you heard the office door open. You all froze.

 “What the hell is going on out here?” Namjoon asked, one hand still on the door. “[Y/N] I should have known.” Jimin turned around surprised that his boss was speaking to you so rudely and casually. “Get in here,” he gestured to the door opening. Jimin opened his mouth to try and explain the commotion, but you were already on your way to the door.

“Oh my God I’m here for an interview, not to get called into the principal’s office.” You responded as you passed Namjoon and into his office.

Jimin and V both stared at each other, determined not to laugh. 

Namjoon stood there with an irritated expression. “Always. Always with the mouth.” He said as you walked through the door. He looked back, “Jimin, hold my calls until I tell you.”

Jimin nods. The minute the door shut he and V started to wheeze while trying to laugh quietly.

V walked over to the desk . “Who is that?” 

“They’re interviewing assistants for Yoongi. The other girl left half an hour ago.” Jimin pauses for a second, “I can’t believe I yelled "shit" at her.”

V laughed again. “She doesn’t seem like the type to be easily offended. So she’s probably a perfect assistant for Yoongi.”

“That’s true.” Jimin agreed. 

On the other side of the door you were still congratulating yourself on your quip against Namjoon when you were surprised to see a familiar face. It was the guy who left his headphones behind last week. Today he was dressed nicer, wearing jeans and a shirt with a vest. His hair was longer than you would have guessed, now that it was free from the black baseball cap. You felt your heart begin to speed up even more.

You had gotten so caught up in accidentally scaring the poor receptionist and messing with Namjoon you had forgotten you were nervous. A fact that you were very much aware of at this exact moment. Your hands were wet and sweaty again and your throat became dry.

“[Y/N] this is music producer Min Yoongi. Aka Suga. Aka the client.” Namjoon gestured to the shorter man and then walked around to the other side of his room, taking a seat at his desk.

You stand there for a few seconds, taking it all in, and then remember that you are being interviewed. You force something out, "Hey there stranger." 

He smirked, “Hey. Welcome to round 2 of the interview I guess.” He sounded almost shy. Which didn’t match his facial expression. 

“Thanks. Are you our chaperone? " You called over to Namjoon who was sitting there barely paying attention to the meeting and scrolling through his phone

" Something like that. Pretend I’m not even here.”

"OK. Well it's nice to officially meet you, Min Yoongi. I'm Y/N. I'd shake your hand but mine are so very sweaty. " You said before you were able to censor yourself. 

You heard Namjoon sigh as your lack of decorum. Yoongi just continued on as though everything was normal. 

"You as well.” He put his hands in his pockets and rocked on his feet slightly. “First of all, do you have any questions for me?" 

You weren't expecting the interview to begin like that. But there definitely were some questions you had about all of this. 

"Ooo I get to interview you? This is unexpected.” You paused for several seconds, pursing your lips together in thought, “Ok. I got it! First question: You're good looking. You seem nice enough. I’m guessing you have a pretty good job if you’re working here, so….what's wrong with you? 

Yoongi stood there for a minute with his mouth open. To your surprise, he responded in a whiny voice," Why would you ask me something like that?" He sounded much younger and more casual than he had before and started to rub the back of his neck.

He turned back to Namjoon, “You weren’t kidding.”

Namjoon just raised his eyebrows, still scrolling.

You scoffed," You told me to ask you questions. An arranged marriage was your first choice? Really?" 

Yoongi tried to play it cool. He had come up with his BigHit-sanctioned backstory. "Namjoon, where did you find this girl again?” You couldn't tell if he was joking or not.

"I picked her up in a bar. I warned you. You pulled her resume," he said almost bored. "Although it is refreshing to have her go after someone else for a change." 

You rolled your eyes. "Why tell me to ask you questions if you didn't want to answer them?" 

Yoongi shrugged, ready to sell the lie. "It makes sense. I gave a list of what I liked and the agency picked you. I'm busy. I'm not interested in dating, but due to circumstances beyond my control I am in need of a long term companion. Someone to attend events with me, travel with me, etcetera etcetera. You read the job description. "

"You want someone to act like your girlfriend?" You asked. Yoongi pulled at his shirt sleeves and hesitated for a moment.

He didn't actually want any of this bullshit, but for the sake of his career and with Namjoon sitting right there, he didn't have a lot of options. He took a deep breath. "Yes. That. I mean a wife would be ideal so we could just skip over all that courtship nonsense."

A dry laugh escaped your lips, "A true romantic. I'm touched, really." You realized the two of you were both still standing. This was by far the strangest interview you had ever been on. "I'm curious as to what your desired qualifications were outside of liking music and a proficiency in Microsoft Word." 

Yoongi paused for a minute, feeling his cheeks blush a little. Surely a little honesty wouldn't hurt. "Ahhh well you see, I can't reveal all of that to you. But you definitely stood out in the interview process.”

You smirked. "Really? What stands out about an average-looking girl that curses too much and drinks waaaay too much shitty coffee?" 

"Shitty coffee wasn't on the list but surely you met most of my criteria or you wouldn't be here." He cleared his throat. "Now it's my turn to ask some questions. Let's start where you did: tell me, what's wrong with you?"

You fidgeted slightly. You sure as hell weren’t going to go into the whole situation with Suho. "My parents are gone and left me and my younger siblings with no money. We're living in a cramped apartment with my aunt and niece. I want to send my sister and brother to school and I want my brother to not have to sleep on the floor or couch every night.” Your honest answers flooded out of you, “I didn't think this offer was real. I figured it would be some weird sex pervert thing or something illegal but I figured it couldn't hurt to go to the interview since it was at a Cafe."

To your absolute shock he responds, "Who says I'm not some weird sex pervert?" He swipes his lips with a tongue.

He had seemed almost shy until about two seconds ago. You kept the same expression you had been wearing. Two could play that game. Your years of bartending made you fluent in flirting. You shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly, "Guess we'll find out on the wedding night. I need to get back to work soon. Do you have any more questions for me?"

Yoongi was still slightly shocked by the last exchange the two of you had had and he just shook his head.

Namjoon got up from his desk. " Good, I can’t take much more of you two lovebirds discussing your future sex life. Well if that's all, you're free to go. We'll be in touch." 

You picked up your bag and looked over at Yoongi who was looking down and blushing (?!). "I'd say it was nice to meet you but honestly it's just been really fucking weird." 

He laughed and you noticed he has a very unique smile, full of small straight teeth and the tiniest bit of his gums. Cute. He looked back up, his cheeks still a little pink. "I guess if it works out I'll have my people call your people." 

You smiled back, "Yeah, yeah something like that. See you later. Or never again. Bye" 

“You’re not supposed to say the word “fucking” in a job interview Tokki, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Yoongi heard Namjoon scold you on the way out the door as he closed it behind him.

You pouted your lips, “Whatever. I think Mr. Min liked it. And are we back to nicknames again Asshole?I thought we were trying to keep it professional here.”

He rolls his eyes but you can tell he’s trying not to smile. “Oh my God just leave. I’ll email you more information soon.” 

You looked around and found the reception area empty with a little "out of office" sign on the desk. You had wanted to apologize for the interruption earlier. Oh well. You realized that Namjoon had told you he would be emailing you. And you had definitely got a good vibe from the interview, as weird as it had been. You got onto the elevator. You decided you would need to at least tell your Aunt soon about the job you might get so she wouldn’t be totally blind-sided if you moved out. 

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

"So…" Namjoon asked as he re-entered his office, "Were either of those ladies tolerable? I mean… I know the second one isn't really tolerable on a good day but it seemed like it went well.”

"Yeah. Hire her. Thanks." Yoongi responded, trying to ensure his voice remained emotionless. "When is her start date?"

Namjoon was pleasantly surprised at how easy this part of the process is going. "If she accepts she could begin Monday, but she would probably want to give her other jobs two weeks notice, and she has to move. So realistically, two to three weeks" 

"OK…" Yoongi said, coming to terms that this was actually happening.

"I'll draw up the paperwork and send it to her tomorrow and let you know." Namjoon replied. He realized this was the longest he and Yoongi had ever had a conversation without arguing about something. 

"Yeah OK," Yoongi headed towards the door. "Later." 

Yoongi passed through the empty reception area and down to his studio. He put his head in his hands and sighed. So this was happening. Fine. [Y/N] seemed nice enough. Her heart was in the right place. She hadn't even mentioned herself when the reason she wanted the job came up. He could deal with this. He sat down at his computer to try and get some actual work done today. NEXT CHAPTER

@lidda  @anpanman-sonyeondan  @firefairy1  @cuteipat​  @sugaslittlekookies

[theimprobabledreamersworld]

While I’m here... I’ve finally updated My Past Became Our Future! :D

Taglist: @psychedelicships @jwillowwolf @lost-in-thought-20 @stardustlv (I can’t remember if anyone else was on the taglist for this one... Let me know!)

Read it here! 

Chapter 10: How Did It Come To This?

‘The world’s got a funny way of turnin’ around on you.’

As the video call cut out, Thomas couldn’t even raise his head. The way Virgil’s voice trembled as he called out their names, the pain in his voice stabbed him right in the heart. He glanced over and saw tears welling Nico’s eyes. They never thought it would come to this. As Patton smiled at them with a new level of malevolence, it was clear that he had lied to them all along, he made it seem like he only wanted to keep Virgil safe. In all the years they’ve been part of The Family. This was the first time both of them have become consumed by emotion when it comes to a job.

Thomas remembered the first time they met at that restaurant. The first night in months where they could just be themselves and they weren’t assassins. Virgil and Logan walked in so apprehensive, so nervous about how people would view them. Thomas should have guessed that Virgil was one of them from the way he looked around the room for threats, the brief glimmer of a dagger just poking out of his pocket, but he just didn’t think of it at the time. That’s why Thomas felt so happy when they were sat next to them, a normal couple. A small slice of a normal life that Thomas and Nico couldn’t have. It was clear that tonight was their first real date, which was why Thomas decided to call out to them, to get rid of some of those nerves. Nico glared at him, but when they all got talking, it was the best decision he could have made. They were wonderful and despite their job, they were determined to make these two lovebirds their best friends. The four of them talked and talked through the evening until it was closing time. Nico ran across the restaurant to get their poor server to take a picture for them. His phone pinged with a message from Patton, but he shut it down ready to take the photo. It was one of their most treasure photos, it’s even the wallpaper on their phones. As they parted ways, they both took out of their phones looking at the text from the boss.

‘Hey kiddos! I’ve got a new mark for you to keep an eye on. We go waaaay back. He used to be a part of The Family believe it or not! I received word that there’s a threat on his life, I don’t want anything to happen to him… So can you keep an eye on him and report back to me whenever you see him? The photo of him is attached. Bye kiddos!’

“You know, I really wish he would stop calling us that… I mean, I think we’re older than him and we’re married.” Nico sighed as he opened the photo as Thomas chuckled and did the same on his phone. They both fell silent and stared at the image.

“Virgil?” The shock was palpable between the two, they looked at each other and both had the exact same thought. They would protect him with every fiber of their being.

Their game plan was simple. Meet with Virgil and Logan on a regular basis but keep it in one place to watch out for any unusual characters. Their weapons would be tucked away in their bags just in case they were needed. There was no way they were letting anything happen to their new best friends, if Virgil was in danger- then Logan could be too. Every time, they would give Patton a detailed amount of information which he was grateful for… almost too grateful for in hindsight.  As time went on however, they started to become more and more slack on information. They even began to lie about seeing them. Virgil was no longer a mark, someone to monitor. He was their friend and each time they reported to Patton, there was a guilt that they couldn’t shake.

Thomas’ biggest regret is that it was him that told Patton about the engagement and consequent wedding. In his defence, he thought he was it would be handy to have them all there as a protection team. After all, him and Nico still thought Virgil was in danger. They put all of their effort into planning the dream wedding, one they couldn’t have. They wanted their best friends to have a perfect day together, damn the consequences. It happened when they were out one day buying wedding supplies.

“Have we lost track of the mission?” Nico asked while they were looking at flowers for the wedding one day. “I mean, we were supposed to be monitoring and reporting back every time. I know I’ve been slacking, I haven’t wanted to report anything, but… are we… getting too close? I think we’re letting our emotions cloud our judgement.” He wasn’t talking in a harsh way. It was almost as if he wanted reassurance that what they were doing was okay.

“You know what? If we have… who cares? I care about Virgil, and Logan. We might not be reporting back as frequently as normal, but we’re doing our best to look out for threats and we’re protecting the two other people that we care about.” He took Nico’s hand and squeezed it reassuringly. They continued to pick flowers, Nico went to buy the ones that they had picked and to order more. Thomas checked to see if he was out of sight before taking out his phone and texting Patton. He told him everything, the engagement, the wedding preparations as well as the date and location of the wedding.

The wedding was beautiful and the gratitude from Virgil and Logan was staggering. They’ve never been loved by other people before, but having these two in their lives made their roles as assassins more worthwhile. Both of them saw The Family walk in and sit at the back, but they made sure to ignore them. There was no reason to raise suspicions. Nico looked confused as to why they were here, and Thomas shrugged back in response. However, when he saw the colour drain from Virgil’s face at the sight of them, he knew that he had probably made a costly mistake. He pushed that thought aside and linked hands with Nico as they watched the two exchange vows. Nico leaned over and whispered in his ear.

“You know, maybe one day we could renew our vows. Have a proper wedding.” He smiled and softly kissed Nico in response. They were the first ones to stand up, clap and cheer when they were officially declared as married. When they both briefly turned around, they saw a gleam in Patton’s eye. He was definitely going to try and get Virgil on his own.

Nico ran up to the two newly-weds and hugged them tightly, then Thomas followed suit. Logan told everyone how to get to the party in the garden, then Nico and Thomas guided everyone through. They knew The Family would have already gone to find somewhere to wait for Virgil, and it was no surprise when Virgil had disappeared, but they couldn’t help but panic when Logan was nowhere to be seen. They searched the whole party and then every room in the building. As they heard voices, it was clear where The Family were… but they weren’t expecting Logan to be standing outside watching everything. Thomas went to walk over but Nico grabbed his wrist and shook his head. When they saw Janus’ crook wrap around Logan, they knew that they would eventually give him the memory repressor and there was nothing they could do about it. Time seemed to slow and when The Family finally came out of the room, the look of anger on all of their faces showed that the meeting didn’t go according to plan. Patton stormed up to them and even they had to admit they were pretty scared.

“Get that mess cleared up.” His voice was filled with pure rage as he pointed to the room behind them. “And trust me, kiddos. We’ll be having words soon.” He then smiled and waved them off as the others followed behind. Thomas took Nico’s hand and they both walked down the corridor playing dumb. They pretended to believe Virgil’s lie about Logan falling over and they all carried on with the evening like nothing had ever happened. Everyone in the party had been drinking too much to realise that the two guests of honour were not there that whole time.

Ever since the wedding, they both agreed that they wouldn’t report back to Patton with any form of frequency. They also stopped giving information like their location, that would stay just between them. They still had their fortnightly meet ups with the boys and the bond they built was the strongest thing ever. The boys came to them for everything; good news, help with arguments, dealing with bad days, just to meet up to get away from the everything. They appreciated the time to be normal. That all changed when Patton called them in not too long ago. They went to the house and entered the dark, desolate room in the house hand in hand, both of them unsure what was going to happen. Remus entered first and growled at them to sit down. Then Patton strolled in with a neutral expression on his face.

“You’ve got too close boys… but don’t worry. I have the perfect way to fix that.”

Thomas never forgot the smile that Patton gave them as he left and put the call with Virgil on loudspeaker. Him and Nico stared at each other in shock when they heard Patton’s ultimatum. Then when Remus pushed them into the room, they both realised they were going to be used to enforce Patton’s threats against Virgil if he refused to make a choice.

Nico looked over at Thomas, and Thomas nodded as a response.

“Don’t let me down, kiddos.” He walked over and handed them the files with all the details, even though they knew everything already. Patton grabbed both of their wrists menancingly.

“Or I’ll make sure you live to regret ever joining me in the first place.” He smiled and left them too it.

Thomas wrapped Nico in a firm embrace after he saw his husband shaking from that last remark. Nico gave him a tight squeeze and removed himself from the hug. They looked at each other, then nodded.

They were going to go and save their friends.

Whatever the consequences may be.

[espieviolet99]

Redwood Firecracker - Chapter 2: Bloody Irish and ATF

Kozik and Patience still got back waaaay before the guys. Kozik actually surprised her by checking she was okay to go in before thinking of leaving her or assuming they'd both go in. He saw the way she softened at his question, and they both realised something was definitely right. She merely nodded, yawning before beginning to lead the way back to the clubhouse. As they entered, she was hugged by Gemma before she undid her purple braid on her way towards the dorms. Kozik nodded to the matriarch, as he watched Patience trudge her way into the dorms.

"She seems in a much better mood than earlier." Gemma remarked, looking up at the Tacoma Son. "She does. Must have been the break from the..." he motioned to the clubhouse. "How busy we are." She nodded." The boys okay?" "Yeah. They went to the shop." "Go check on her." She finalised.

She smirked as he walked away, following the route she had taken. He already knew which dorm was hers, as the Tacoma bikers were set in any room but one. He gave a light knock, before the voice of the woman softly called for whoever was knocking to come in. He opened the door, somewhat freezing at the way she looked in her new state of dress. She wore a pair of cosy shorts, with a vest top. She looked over and beamed when she saw him. Something he felt he could get used to.

"Hey, you okay?" She asked. "Yeah. Gemma told me to check on you." He spoke, shuffling on his feet. "I'm good. It's been real refreshing and nice to meet you today, Koz." She nodded. He grinned at her. "You too, Patience."

She stepped forward, leaning up to wrap her arms around his shoulders and pull him into a hug. He responded by wrapping his around her waist, and they stood there for a few moments, enjoying the contact before pulling away and comfortably enjoying each other's gaze.

"It kinda sucks that you gotta go back to Tacoma." She shrugged. "Yeah. But, I imagine Tig would have my ass if stuck around." He laughed. "I wouldn't let him. You're pretty cool." "I think your dad would have my ass for that, too." "What?" "You defendin' me." "I'm a big girl, stud. I can have my own opinion of others." "Yeah, you can." He smiled. "You sleep well tonight, Koz." She beamed, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "You, too, Pay." He replied, testing her nickname on his tongue.

They both looked at each other with a look, before they departed to their different priorities. Patience, sleep. She needed sleep. Having had a near miss with an overload, then a fight - she was exhausted. Though, the butterflies she felt had a great deal to do with that, too.

Gemma watched as Kozik sauntered back in, somewhat smiling. She shook her head, knowing full well that the two were beginning to fall for each other. Poetic, she thought. Not to mention how 'lucky' it was for Patience to be falling for the guy Tig hated above all others. Kozik didn't respond to any of the advances of the surrounding crows, as he busied himself in conversation with Chuck, before the guys got back and he was relieved to go and get his own shut-eye. Gemma did not miss that one bit, and her smirk returned as she saw just how hard Kozik was falling for Patience.

"Hey, baby." Clay greeted his wife, as the other sons either flocked to a crow, or in Jax's case; Tara. "Hey." She smiled, kissing her husband. "Let's head to bed." "Tough night?" "Eh. We will see what happens in the daylight." "Right. Tig okay?" "Yeah, why?" "Well. Kozik is back in town." "Well, it doesn't help that Tawnie is stirrin' the pot, but I think we're good." "He seems to be helping her." "You noticed, huh?"

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

Patience trudged through the clubhouse, grabbed a coffee, then made her way to the roof. The minute she gained any form of consciousness, the noise of general life in the clubhouse was quite powerful. Kozik noticed this, too. Noticing the tense look on her face, he took the opportunity of the guy's being at the station house to go and see how she was. He got on the roof and saw how she sat below the eyeline and leaned back to enjoy the peace with her eyes closed.

"Hey, stud." She spoke, he froze. "How did ya know it was me?" He grinned. "In no lockdown ever, has anyone come to check on me like you have." She smiled, before turning to look at him." Also, your footfalls." "Guilty" He chuckled, before joining her. "Sleep well?" "Yeah, you?" "Until I woke up." She sniggered. "Sounds about right." He nodded." I gotta ride back out to Tacoma later." "Oh." Her face fell. "Lockdown should be over by the end of the day." "Well." She sighed." I suppose that is a good thing. I can go back to my house." "Yeah." "Gimme your cell." She said, holding her hand out.

He indulged her, and watched as she punched her number into his contacts. He smiled as she did so, as she then sent a text from his phone to hers. As she passed his back, she took hers out to then save his number. He chuckled when he saw her write 'Kozzy', and she began sipping her coffee as she put her phone away.

"Thanks." He spoke. "Don't be a stranger, yeah?" "No, ma'am." He saluted, making the both chuckle.

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

After Kozik's departure, Gemma took note of her deflation of mood, and so she took Patience with her on her supply run. She sat in the back of Tara's car, cooing with Abel as they went. Tara could tell Gemma was up to something by bringing her. Tara hadn't been completely blind, but she didn't want to assume anything and knew Patience needed support in these times due to the ADHD. Plus, she was particularly useful with the heavy lifting - along with Sack. Though, when Gemma drove after Polly, she couldn't entirely focus. Patience went from a form of maternal mode from being with Abel, to protective, as Tara asked Sack to stay with Gemma. Tara and Patience shared a concerned look as they got back in the car, now joining her in the front.

"Jax is going to be pissed if he finds out." Patience sighed, looking back to check Abel. "Yeah. We'll see how it goes. Maybe he won't have to." Tara groaned. "Least you still have me, huh?" "Us girls gotta stick together, I guess."

Patience nodded, as they continued to drive in silence back to Tara and Jax's house. She busied herself with watching over Abel as Tara began putting items away as they prepared to come out of lockdown. Patience's phone buzzed, and she pulled it out to find she had received a text from Kozik;

Kozzy: Hit Tacoma

Pay: Yay! How was the ride?

Kozzy: Traffic was okay

"Whatcha smilin' at?" Tara smirked, gaining Patience's attention. "Hm?" Pay zoned into Tara.

They both then jumped when Half-Sack appeared in the doorway, Patience damn near getting ready to fight before she realised it was him. He held his hands up in surrender as she and Tara let out sighs of relief. Patience then frowned, moving forward to peek behind him to realise;

"Where's Gemma?" Tara asked. Half-Sack looked guiltily at them both before answering. "I don't know. Feds showed up, raided the safe house. I had to go." "Balls." Patience grumbled, turning to Tara. "Better call Jax." Sack added. "Yeah." She picked up the phone, dialling the number until;" Hey, I didn't want to bother you with this. It's Gemma, she followed Zobelle's daught- Whoa!"

Patience heard Jax on the phone calling for Tara before Cameron Hayes, who'd shown up and scared the living Bajesus out of them all, took the phone and hung it up, his gun focused into the room. Patience carefully backed up to try and cover Abel. Beginning to size up the situation and work on a strategy.

"Don't move!" Cameron ordered." Sit."

Tara sat, shocked and unsure of what to do. Sack and Patience looked at each other, mentally working out a battle plan. Sack went to surge round the table, but Cameron's gun shifted target. It wasn't until Cameron shouted that Abel began to make noise. Patience found Cameron stalking towards her, so she took a breath and steeled herself.

"Sit." He repeated. "How about you drop the gun, asshole?" She clapped back, keeping her stance between him and Abel.

A moment later, Cameron had swung his gun round into her temple, knocking her clean out. Tara gasped, seeing the blood beginning to stream out her brow. Sack inwardly groaned, knowing that without Patience, this was going to be a lot more awkward and dangerous. The tension was awful. It wasn't until Cameron threatened Abel, that Sack went for him - getting stabbed. Between the time it took for Jax, Chibs and Opie to arrive, Cameron took Tara upstairs to tie her up, before taking Abel and leaving.

Patience groaned into consciousness in the hospital later on, having suffered a concussion. It took everything in her not to panic or lose control of her cool when she remembered what had happened. Piney was there to help her, soothing her in his paternal way to try and calm her before she went too far into an outburst. She was overwhelmed entirely, and when Piney filled her in and took her home - with Gemma gone, she would need to pick up more hours at the garage; with Tig gone, she felt at a loss; Abel was kidnapped and Sack was killed, and she had been knocked out and about as helpful as a chocolate teapot. She was ripe on the verge. The only thing she could think of, was to grab her phone.

Pay: You got a moment?

But there was no answer. And, as the minutes surged by, she could no longer contain it. At least she managed to control herself enough to take it out on her bed as she completely let go.

[eyesfixedonthesun22]

Devour Me

Pairing: Bucky x Female Reader Warning(s): Drug Use (Marijuana), Smut 18+ (sorta...as I edited this it actually isn’t that bad) Word Count: 1,373 Prompt: “Every Other Freckle” by Alt-J Oh, devour me - if you think that you can handle me. Beta Reader: @supersoldiersruined-me​ Notes: This is the first time I’ve failed and been this late for a challenge. Sorry everyone! But congrats to @heli0s-writes for 2k (probs waaaay more by now). Here some poorly translated Russian 

Пиздец = Damn it, Ты умеешь ст��чать? = Can you knock?!, Я собираюсь убить ее! = I’m going to kill her!

“Why don’t you just come over after your date?”

“Oh honey, that would be too late. I wouldn’t want to wake you.” The warmth in Natasha’s voice on the other end of the phone is a poor substitute for your best friend’s presence.

“You know I hate Valentine’s day. Everyone’s gone. Tony and Pepper are on some huge week long trip. Steve and Sharon left an hour ago and now you’re gone too. I’m just gonna end up getting stoned in my room.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad.”

“So come do it with me when your date is done boring you,” you try to goad her once more.

“Babe, I was lying. I won’t be home late. I won’t be home at all. My ass is getting laid tonight. Even if the date is boring.”

“Lucky bitch. Well have fun with boring Kevin or whatever his name is, for me.”

“Don’t be so jealous. It’s not a good look on you. Take some hits for me, hun. I’ll see you in the morning and we can get brunch or something.”

You let the phone click off the speakerphone and remain plopped on your sternum before taking a hit off your vape. She did say to take a hit for her after all. Besides, how else were you going to kick off this Valentine’s pity party if you weren't sufficiently stoned?

If you were being honest with yourself it wasn’t until recently that you started hating the holiday. It wasn’t even really Valentine’s Day that was so bad but more what it reminded you of. You were newer to the Avengers Team and were still adjusting. It seemed like everyone had managed to master the attention that came with the role. All it seemed to grant you with was newfound anxiety piled atop the bit you already had. Any chance at dating seemed shattered. Good luck finding someone with “shared life experiences” as Steve had once put it.

Natasha had encouraged you to be more guarded with your identity and go out with anyone you wanted; like she did. Then again, she wasn’t really the relationship type. More the one night stand with no attachments sorta girl. Sam had suggested you be more candid and use your newfound attention to your advantage. Neither advice had really helped and now you were just stuck. Valentine’s Day was the perfect magnifying glass to an issue that you weren’t really sure how to address.

The current more pressing problem at hand however, was your lack of chocolate chip cookies. Chocolate chip cookies with milk. You take another hit from your pen before sliding it into the pocket of your lounge shorts and make your way to the kitchen.

“Cookies, cookies. Gonna stuff my face with some cookies,” you singsong to yourself. You pop the cookies into the toaster oven for a couple seconds to warm up while pouring your milk. The chocolate morsels need a tad longer to really have that molten goo that you’re craving so you put them back in. You feel yourself salivating as you sing your cookie song once more; staring into the toaster oven with impatience and no doubt a mildly glazed over expression.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

The yelp that explodes out of you is some inhumane sound. Your heart stutters in your chest attempting to regain its normal rhythm.

“Bucky?!” You manage to drag some ragged breaths into your lungs staring at your teammate. He’s wandered in from the living room attached to the kitchen. From the looks of his sweatpants he was having a similar night in until you’d startled one another. “What are you doing here?”

“Having a chill night in. Thought I was alone. What are you- holy shit you’re baked!” The brunette can barely contain his fit of laughter. “That explains the cookies...and the song.”

“Just for that I’m not sharing my cookies or my bud.”

He doesn’t respond but instead points over his shoulder to the coffee table in the living room. It’s covered with a variety of snacks as well as what looks like a beautiful bong.

“Looks like we had the same idea for plans tonight.” He chuckles softly to himself. “I’ll trade you some chips or pizza for some cookies?”

“Looks like you got yourself a deal, Barnes. But I wanna try a hit off that bong.”

***

The night hadn't passed how you originally intended but you found yourself content laying on the couch. Bucky and you had settled in head to feet. Perhaps it was your buzzed state or just his closeness, but each press of his left arm against the bare skin of your legs was something you were acutely aware of. The cool metal had warmed from the prolonged contact and he rested the length of his arm down the expanse of your leg. The flat of his palm landed just shy of your knee and would occasionally rub small circles that were setting you on fire.

At this point you weren’t vollying questions back and forth. You were both content to sit and listen to the music. You and Bucky had quickly found you both enjoyed Alt-J and had set the playlist to random for their songs. You recognize the mellow beats and patterns as “Tessellate” coming from the speakers.

“Do you get lonely?”

You had no idea what possessed you to ask the question so open and honestly but you found yourself truly needing to know if someone else felt the way you did.

“All the time,” he says without missing a beat. “This sounds a little dramatic but sometimes I feel lonely in a crowded room. Like I just want to find someone who gets me. I mean, I have Steve. But he’s my best friend. I just don’t have… I don’t know.”

“I get it.”

You squeeze his calf gently in response to try to drive home how much you really empathize; hoping you could transmit all your emotions you were feeling in that one touch. Your heart drops into your stomach when he pulls his leg away from you and sits up; completely disrupting the bubble of comfort you two had shared. You can’t help but clamp your eyes shut to hold back tears you know will make their showing soon.

A warm weight settles down atop your body. Bucky had shifted on the couch to now be flush to you. He used his arms to brace himself waiting for your permission. Not trusting your words you nod and he settles deeper into the couch. The weight of his body is comforting in a way you’d never experienced.

“Doll, I really wanna kiss you right now.”

A moment passes where your brain short circuits. You can’t form words. The voice croons from the speaker “Oh, devour me - if you think that you can handle me.Oh, devour me - if you think that you can handle me.” Not trusting your voice to answer with any further conviction, you snake your hand behind his neck and pull him down.

Kissing Bucky is languid and honey sweet. You’d never imagined feeling so warm. He seemed to evelop you everywhere  You felt as though your lungs might burst. You couldn’t get enough air but simply didn’t want to stop tasting his lips against your own. You lose track of how long the two of you lay there kissing back and forth. The pace ebbs and flows naturally with each wave up reaching a crest higher than the one before.

You feel the firm pressure of Bucky’s cock pressing against your surely soaked core. He makes no move to pressure you to go further but instead continues to suck gently at a soft spot on your neck drawing out a whine you don’t recognize as your own.

***

“Пиздец Natalia! Ты умеешь стучать?!”

Your blissful high is shattered by Bucky’s bellowing from between your legs at the redhead in the entrance to the living room.

“Sorry babe. Told you we could get brunch.” Instead of cursing Bucky has resorted to throwing pillows at her. “The offer is still on the table. Bucky is also welcome...even though it looks like he already ate!”

“Я собираюсь убить ее!”

[whumpster-fire]

Whumptober 2020 Day 13: Delayed Drowning

Okay here’s the other half of the story I did for Day 5. Except not half because this turned out waaaay longer than I expected, something like 8k words.

Fandom: Pokemon

Content Warnings: Animal whumpee, Female Whumpee, Minor Whumpee (juvenile animal), Minor Caretaker who gets hurt too, Animal Abuse, Animal Death Mention, Bad Parenting Mention, Hallucinations, Fear Wetting

“I mean, I just don’t understand… what the hell kind of sick bastard just… throws a bunch of baby Pokemon in the river?” Nico ranted to the nurse on duty at the West Rutile Town Municipal Pokemon Center. “Like… I’ve heard of people abandoning Pokemon because they evolved and they couldn’t take care of them, or something, but like… how hard can it be to find homes for Eevees? I mean, they’re like… there’s four or five of them in my apartment building back home!” During the ride in the back of the police car, which had raced them to the Pokemon Center with the lights flashing, he’d been almost as catatonic as the three Eevee kits in his lap, just answering the cops’ questions about what had happened as accurately as he could.

The lecture about him risking his life going out onto the flimsy tree trunk to pull the bag out of the river hadn’t been as long as he expected, and there was no mention of calling his parents, but he still felt like a damn criminal, especially with all the questions like how long he’d had his Trainer’s License, where he’d been last, and so on. It actually sounded like the guys were genuinely interested – one of them said he’d gotten a couple of gym badges when he was young but competitive battling just didn’t work out – but it was still like an interrogation.

With the car’s heater blasting, the Eevees had started to perk up a little. Two of them, at least. They were shivering violently the whole ride there, and stayed snuggled into the sweater, but they were awake. The other one? The nurse had just delivered the bad news, and right now Nico felt like he had to keep talking, and to stay angry, or he was going to break down and cry. The whole car ride he’d been telling himself over and over not to get attached, that they might not make it, and there was a good chance they were kidnapped and would be reunited with their trainers. But the little creatures had pressed themselves against him, and they were making little mewling cries of distress, and he’d just done what he could to try to comfort them. One of them was a bit more curious, and started looking around the cop car after a bit. The other had managed to crawl up inside his t-shirt. She was still damp and freezing to the touch.

The nurse sighed and nodded. She was an older woman, with brown hair that was gray at the roots. “They’re common, yeah. But that cuts both ways. There are so many born in captivity every year that there aren’t always enough homes for them.” She grimaced. “These kits are six or seven months old, probably from the same litter. Probably an unlicensed breeder: the scanners didn’t pick up any Pokeball ID.” Captive Pokemon in Tektos were required by law to have a registered Pokeball by the age of four months. “I don’t think there was much effort put into finding homes for them, either. They’re almost a pound underweight, and based on all the partially-healed injuries it’s possible they were used as Grinders.”

Nico winced. Pokemon battling, real Pokemon battling, was a carefully regulated sport, and it was mostly safe. There were occasionally accidents, but Pokemon in league-sanctioned battles had a rate of serious injury several times lower than professional footballers. But there were illegal underground battles, and even in the League occasionally someone would get caught doing something cruel or unethical. Like Grinding. The best way for a Pokemon to get better, aside from practicing individual moves and techniques with their trainers, was battling against other skilled opponents who could challenge them. But Grinding meant beating much weaker Pokemon over, and over, and over… just using them as target practice. It wasn’t good even for the Pokemon being trained, and for the ‘Grinder’ it was cruel and dangerous. But…

“Why’d they stop, then?” he asked. “I mean… wouldn’t people who were doing that just… keep them until they died or got too badly hurt to run or defend themselves at all? Why’d they try to drown the whole litter at the same time?”

“If I had to guess, because they got found out and were trying to get rid of evidence,” the nurse scowled. “Since the old commissioner got voted out a lot of these underground fighting rings have been getting busted.”

“Oh.” Nico balled his fists. “Yeah. Good. I mean, not that they were destroying evidence, but… y’know, hopefully that means the sons of bitches who did this’ll get caught soon.”

“Anyway...” the woman scratched the back of her head. “The good news is, both of the little girls you brought in today seem to be in stable condition. We’re going to keep them here for observation for at least another night. After that, they don’t have any Pokeball IDs as I said, so they don’t legally have a trainer at this point. You and your friend are licensed trainers, so you have the first claim to any abandoned Pokemon you capture, even if you didn’t use a Pokeball.”

“Okay. Uhh… I mean I, uhh… I’ll have to think about it!” Nico stuttered. He hastily excused himself and claimed he needed to call a couple of people. Erin had already left by then. He was going to talk to her at some point, just to make sure, but she’d said the other day that after Slana she wasn’t going to be ready for another Pokemon for a while. She had four, which was technically enough to earn seven of the eight gym badges needed to qualify for Regionals even if it would be much harder to do so. Nico only had Kenna and Zagi, so to even challenge a gym for his second badge he’d have to add another Pokemon to his team.

But that was the thing. Even if he took in the Eevees, he’d still have a team of two. They were so young it would be a couple of months before it was even physically safe for them to battle, and mentally? Maybe never. If he remembered right one of the semifinalists in last year’s regional championship had a rescued grinder Pokemon on his team, but the interviewers had focused on that precisely because it was rare. There was no guarantee they’d even be okay with being anywhere near a battling arena, not if  the sights and sounds were a constant reminder of whatever abuse they’d gone through. And it wouldn’t be fair to them to be shut in their balls every time he had a practice match with another trainer, or during sparring sessions while he was spending time with the others. If what they needed was a quiet home, one that was always in the same place and never involved crashing in cheap rooms or on couches at Pokemon Centers, he couldn’t provide that. At a minimum he could be taking care of an extra two Pokemon. A trainer could have more than six and just select which six would be ‘available’ before a battle, and quite a few did, but it was more work, more mouths to feed, more sleeping space… then again, some trainers had Onix or Gyrados.

And, well… really, Nico wasn’t sure about an Eevee at all. They were cute, but the old saying was: ‘Never bring home a Pokemon if you aren’t prepared to care for its fully evolved form’ or something like that. And usually it was pretty straightforward, but Eevee could take any of fifteen different forms, all of different types, all with different needs. Vaporeons needed water to swim in, Jolteons needed lots of space to run, Leafeons were miserable in places with long, cold, dark winters, Glaceons were miserable in tropical climates, Umbreons liked to be active at two AM, Terreons needed places to dig, and so on. It wasn’t completely unpredictable, because they were more likely to take a form suited to their environment, and you could often see the signs in their personality and behavior, but you couldn’t know for sure unless you used an evolutionary stone or made sure to only train in certain locations or at certain times of day or something.

But he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to keep them. It was like some part of him had bonded with the little creatures during that car ride. Like he’d felt a connection. But that was stupid. The poor things were so out of it that he hadn’t really even met them. He’d felt something with Kenna from the first few minutes, but she’d been awake, and aware of her surroundings, and he’d gotten to know her a bit and made sure she liked him before deciding on her as his starter. Then again, new parents always talked about how much they loved their babies even when they couldn’t do much besides sleep and cry. But then again, maybe if people could tell who their kids were before they had them, the world might be a better place. Maybe there’d be fewer kids getting dragged across the ocean to Hoenn every summer so their moms could pretend they actually liked spending time with them for a week or two and the other ten telling them to just go outside and make some friends if they were bored. Maybe there’d be fewer kids getting expensive presents in the mail every holiday season that were lovingly picked out for the kid they wished they had. Nico stared at the contacts list on his phone. No… he felt like he could only tell her the good parts of being a trainer, the easy parts. What would she even say? He was going to call Dad at some point, but he was at work right now, and all he ever really said about it besides ‘You’re the trainer, it’s your call’ was no Pokemon that wouldn’t fit in the apartment.

Eventually Nico made up his mind to make up his mind later. He was planning to stick around Rutile Town for a while anyway, so he’d wait until he could actually get to know the Eevees and they’d fully recovered. He tried to take his mind off it. Go to the nearest gym – Rutile didn’t have one of the major gyms where a badge was needed to qualify for Regionals, but there were two smaller ones – and work on hiding an Ember’s direction with Smokescreen for Kenna and Zagi’s control over Quick Attack. Get dinner, and of course now the sun had gone down so the Jivuyena was stir-crazy but the temperature had also dropped a few degrees so she didn’t want to actually get her energy out outdoors. But at some point, late in the evening, he found himself scrolling through lists of name ideas on the internet, and that was the last thing he remembered doing before he fell asleep sprawled across a couch in the Pokemon Center lobby, sweating like a pig in his hoodie with a living hot water bottle curled up on his chest.

He was shocked awake by a crash like furniture being knocked over. He pushed himself upright, dislodging Kenna and sending her tumbling off the sofa with a startled grunt, then fell off himself, landing hard on his elbow. His curse probably woke up anyone who’d managed to sleep through the first noise.

“Ow! Son of a… what the hell?” He stood up way too fast and was almost brought back down by a headrush.

Other voices around him expressed similar sentiments. There were only a couple of other trainers in the lobby at this time of night – the clock by the Clinic check-in desk said 2:30 in the morning. Erin had long since gone to bed in the actual room she’d rented. The lodging side of the Pokemon center didn’t get that many visitors staying for more than a night or two since there wasn’t a major gym in Rutile and the area wasn’t that popular for catching wild Pokemon. No one was camped out in the lobby for lack of space. The only reason to stay here overnight was if you had a Pokemon that was in bad shape.

There were more crashes, and high-pitched screams. Only some of them sounded human. The other trainers reached for the Pokeballs on their belts. Nico did the same, then remembered both his Pokemon were already out. Kenna cackled and stalked towards the doors to the clinic area, wisps of smoke rising from her back. Zagi stayed perched on the back of the sofa, fur standing on end and sparking.

Then the doors flew open. A young man stumbled out, half dragging an older, heavyset woman. Both of them wore nurses’ scrubs, but their clothes were torn. His glasses were bent and missing a lens, and his arm was covered in blood. He helped the woman to a chair, and shouted in a shaking voice: “Everybody stay calm! Stay calm and get clear of the lobby, now!”

The effect was anything but calming. A dozen possibilities raced through Nico’s mind. An earthquake? A gas explosion? Pokemon thieves? - Rutile did have a gang problem. An out-of-control Pokemon? A truck crashing into the building? “What happened? What’s going on?”

“Keep your Pokemon in their balls!” the female nurse snapped at a trainer who had just brought out a Scyther.

The man zeroed in on Nico. “Are you the kid that brought the Eevees in today?”

“Uhh – yeah – I – yeah, that was me,” Nico stuttered. “What’s wrong? Did something-”

“One of them had what’s called a secondary drowning episode – water in the lungs caused inflammation and more fluid accumulation.”

“Oh, no.”

“We were doing everything we could, but-”

Something flung the doors open again, so hard it seemed like they would come off their hinges. They hit the wall with an earsplitting bang, and a creature skidded into the lobby. Nico caught a glimpse of blazing orange eyes wreathed in a halo of unearthly pale blue flame. It was like the air was sucked out of the room. Goosebumps formed on his skin.

“Jesus!” one of the other trainers staggered back, and reached for a Pokeball. The creature’s head snapped towards the sound.

“I said keep them in their balls!” The nurse’s voice was almost as frightening as the creature… the Pokemon. The shock had gone away a little bit with its eyes off him, and he could see it more clearly now. It was small, not much bigger than a Vulpix or an adult Eevee, with four legs and a slender body. It was almost engulfed in the ethereal fire, making it look bigger than it was, but the energy was concentrated around its neck, paws, ears, and tail. Underneath the fire was dark gray-purple fur. The large head, the short muzzle, the long, diamond-shaped ears...

Nico’s jaw dropped. He recognized this Pokemon. At least, he recognized the evolutionary line for sure, and he could guess the type. “Is… is that a Styxeon?” Eevee could evolve into any type except Bug and Dragon, but the ghost and poison forms were the rarest. He couldn’t remember how they even evolved. Were they the ones that evolved through trading? No, he was pretty sure there was some kind of item involved usually because very few locations had a big enough energy concentration…

The man nodded. “Traumatic Evolution. I’ve never seen it happen before! She suddenly went downhill and we were trying to get her on oxygen, but… basically her body thought it was about to die and… forced itself to evolve as a last resort! But her Aftermath tore half the room apart, and she panicked and attacked us!”

Nico couldn’t speak. It clicked together in his brain. Ghost-type… this was one of the Eevees he’d pulled from the river. And panicked was right. Panicked and furious. The Styxeon darted one way, then the other, claws skidding on the linoleum. She was hissing and spitting and screaming at everyone and everything around her. The other two trainers hurriedly backed away, and the guy with the Scyther recalled it. Zagi kept his distance, but Kenna slowly advanced on her, snarling.

“Kenna, stay back!” Nico ordered. “Kenna, stay back! Damnit… Kenna, return! Zagi, return!”

He got them back in their Pokeballs just in time. The ghost-type just hissed and recoiled at first, but stood her ground until Nico tried to call his own Pokemon back. She flinched and shrank away with a frightened yelp, but then lunged without warning, swiping at the red beam of energy with a ragged dark purple plume trailing from her claws. Her gaze followed it straight back to Nico’s hand, and the glowing eyes met his. He hurriedly looked away, but the feeling of unease, of fear, was visceral.

“Uh… don’t you guys have Pokemon with moves that can… cause sleep or something?” Nico asked the nurses.

“Yes, but right now using any move on her’s dangerous.” The female nurse had hauled herself to her feet and was using a chair as a makeshift walker to back away. “She’s having a massive power surge, but she’s also very weak from the strain of evolving too early. We can’t put any more stress on her.”

“Do you have a Heal Ball on you?” the man asked. He had a Pokeball in his hand, but judging by the sticker on it it already had an occupant.

“No. Sorry.”

“Then let’s just try and get her calmed down on her own and make sure she doesn’t get out of this building.” The man edged towards the Styxeon, but an enraged snarl sent him scurrying back, nearly tripping over a chair. He glanced down at his bloody sleeve.

That left Nico as the only thing standing between the Styxeon and the exit. His fingers brushed the empty Pokeball he had on his belt. No. He didn’t know if he could, even as a last resort. He could never forgive himself if something happened. The way she’d reacted… she’d been scared of Kenna, but not the way she’d been scared of him raising his voice.

“Hey… remember me?” He tried to keep his voice as level as possible. Calm, not aggressive but not fearful either. “I saved you, remember?” Avoid eye contact, avoid staring, but don’t obviously look away. She responded with a low, rumbling growl. “I’m not gonna hurt you, girl.”

The Pokemon moved closer, but off to the side, sinking into a low crouch. That was trouble. He followed her eyes. Uh oh. The door to the lodging area! He shuffled sideways to block her way.“Ah-ah, no, you’ve got to stay -” Then the last word became a startled yell. The Styxeon tensed. Her eyes widened, but she sprang with an unearthly screech. Nico threw his arms up to try to protect his face, but something slammed into his chest, bowling him over. His sneaker caught the edge of the carpet, but he barely even felt his head hit the floor. Her voice was boring into his ears, boring into his brain like a dentist’s drill. Claws dug into his chest, but the thing that had tackled him wasn’t the Eevee he’d saved from the river. Her skin went translucent, and then… then it was gone, rotting and crumbling away in an instant with heatless blue fire bursting from the seams. Flesh sloughed away from bone. Images flashed in front of – no, behind Nico’s eyes like a kaleidoscope on a bad acid trip, and horrible, stomach churning sensations forced themselves on him. Cold, overwhelming cold, icy water and thrashing bodies kicking and clawing at him and burning lungs, pitch blackness and spinning vertigo, and then the stabbing agony of the cold being inside him. Cold metal bars against raw flesh, the smell of dried blood and ammonia and dirty dishes left in the sink too long, with the constant buzz of flies around him, insects landing on him, insects biting, things crawling on him, things moving under his skin. His arms and hands gray, and clammy, and the skin splitting and a writhing mass of foaming maggots erupting from the wound instead of blood. And pinning him to the ground was a decaying, mummified carcass, scraps of ragged fur and blackened skin clinging to a skeleton, orange pinpricks of fire blazing in the black void of empty sockets, a bare skull screaming with its fangs just inches from his face.

Then the fluorescent lights of the Pokemon Center Lobby were spinning somewhere above him, and he was lying flat on his back on the thin carpet. His head felt like it had split open. The Styxeon leapt off his chest, but stumbled, looking wildly this way and that. People were shouting, and there was a Jumpluff hovering near the ceiling. It was a few seconds before Nico could make out voices or even move. He rolled onto his stomach and lifted himself to his hands and knees. His heart… it was so fast… he felt faint, and a bead of sweat dripped from his nose. His ears were still ringing.

“Fuck, bro, you okay?” someone asked. “You went down pretty hard!”

“I’m - okay! Yeah! I’m - okay!” He wasn’t okay. He’d hit his head so hard his neck and jaw hurt, and he felt like he was going to puke. He was hyperventilating so badly he could barely get out one word per breath. But the living nightmare had vanished, and in its place a terrified Pokemon was running frantically back and forth, looking for an escape route that didn’t exist. She was panting, the blue fire was sputtering, and there was so much fear in those eyes!

“Styxeon! Calm down, you’ve gotta – calm down or you’ll hurt yourself!” Nico got to his feet on pure adrenaline, but stumbled and had to steady himself against a chair. The Pokemon’s feet slid out from under her. She landed hard, and took a couple of tries to get back up, paws scrabbling on the linoleum. He staggered towards her, trying to herd her away from the door, ignoring the shouts from him to get away. He wanted to yell at them to shut the fuck up. They were hurting his head, and she was flinching at every one. Stop scaring her, you morons!

She tried to dart past Nico again, but lost her nerve at the last second and ended up cornering herself between him, the wall, and the back of a sofa. She was still screaming her head off with every breath, but the ghostly flames around her gave out. There was no hostility anymore, just desperate terror.

“It’s all right… it’s all right...” Nico sank to his knees. “I’m not going to come any closer, okay? Just calm down… calm down… shh...”

The Styxeon shrank back, her ears flat against her head and her tail tucked between her legs. Her whole body was shaking like a leaf, and her back was hunched over. She bumped into the wall, and jolted forward with a startled yelp, looking back like she hadn’t known it was there.

“You’re safe, girl… nobody’s going to hurt you – ah, damnit...”

The terrified Pokemon’s gaze darted back and forth. Nico, the wall, the couch, the other people and Jumpluff a ways behind him. Her wail faded into a pitiful whimper. Her enormous orange eyes filled with tears, and a puddle appeared between her back legs.

“Sweetie, sweetie, stop! Or – ah, jeeze – at least get your tail out of the way – fuck...” Nico pressed his hand to his chest. His heart still wouldn’t slow down. Oh, now he was panicking? What the hell was he supposed to do? This wasn’t something he’d had to deal with as a trainer. Most Pokemon were way faster to house train than human babies. Unless they were left in their ball too long or weren’t given a chance to go beforehand, it was very rare for healthy Pokemon more than a couple of months old to have accidents. The Eevees should have been old enough. But if those… hallucinations were real, if they were bits of memory, maybe they’d spent most of their lives locked in cages. Had they never learned?

No… no, it was worse. The poor Styxeon looked utterly horrified. There was no way she’d meant to, she’d just been so scared… and the little creature was still cowering, looking at him and flinching away like she expected to be hit. She looked down at her paws with an expression of disgust, but shrank back against the wall, trying to make herself as small as possible, her crouch getting deeper and deeper until she sat down on the soaked tile, sobbing violently.

It was heartbreaking. All Nico could do was keep saying whatever he could think of to try to reassure her. By now the noise had caused a small crowd of trainers from upstairs to gather. She wouldn’t let anyone else anywhere near her, and wouldn’t leave the corner even when Nico backed off, but she at least tolerated his presence. He scooted closer an inch at a time, until his outstretched hand was a couple of steps out of her reach. Close enough that she still had to come to him. She reached forward timidly, jerking back at the slightest movement, but eventually she came close enough to sniff his hand.

She shied away again, but after a minute repeated the gesture two more times, as if to prove to herself that she wasn’t imagining it. She let out a soft whine, and started to tremble and cry again. But then… she closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against his palm. He was almost surprised by how soft and warm her fur was. Part of him had expected to feel nothing but bone.

Nico sighed, and rubbed his aching head. That was the last straw. “Welp.” He muttered to himself. “Guess I have a Pokemon now.” Two really. There was no way he was going to separate the two siblings, especially after everything they’d been through. “Good girl, Sedna.” The moment he said the name, he started second-guessing himself. It was one of the ones he’d been considering in spite of everything about it. According to the website he’d found, Sedna was a sea goddess from a region in the far north. The reason was different in different versions of the story, but in all of them she was thrown into the ocean by her father and drowned, but lived on as a sea goddess or something. It kind of fit, but at the same time it didn’t because it was so morbid to give one of the Eevees a name like that. He kind of liked the way it sounded, but he was still leaning against it because it would be kind of weird for anything but a Glaceon or Vaporeon anyway, and… Wait. Sedna was the ruler of the underworld too, wasn’t she? The cold, lightless depths at the bottom of the ocean? No, that was almost too good a name for a Ghost-type.

Sedna calmed down a little after the crowd was shooed away. Most of the trainers had gone back to bed, and the other two who were staying in the lobby retreated to the other side. It was just Nico, Erin, and the two nurses. They’d admitted defeat on trying to get close enough to Sedna to check that her evolution had actually cleared all the fluid from her lungs, but said it should have. They were waiting for a nurse from another Pokemon Center to relieve them, and a friend to give them a ride to the hospital. Sedna had bitten and clawed the man’s arm, badly enough that he’d need stitches. The woman had fallen and twisted her ankle trying to run after getting hit with an Astonish – the same move the Styxeon had used on him. It was probably a sprain, she said, but a bad enough one to need medical attention, and an X-ray just to be sure. Nico was almost glad he’d been tackled. They kept suggesting that he should go to the hospital as well, warning him about a possible concussion. They’d taken his pulse and blood pressure too, and said they were way higher than a teenager’s should have been, and that if they weren’t back to normal by morning, he needed to see a doctor.

But he was putting that off until morning. Or probably afternoon since after this ordeal there was no way he was waking up early. Sedna needed him. She’d let Erin get closer than anyone else but Nico, but he was the only one she’d let touch her, and even then it was only reluctantly. Nico would have loved if he could just get her to follow him to his room and make her a nest of blankets or towels so she’d have somewhere warm and comfortable to sleep but still have some space, and then he could get some sleep. But the poor thing was cowering in a puddle of her own urine. There was no way in hell he was going to bed and leaving her in that state.

He was going to have to give her a bath. He’d only actually had to bathe a Pokemon once, a few days ago after another trainer’s Swampert had knocked out his whole team in a practice battle. Neither of his Pokemon normally needed or tolerated baths, but Kenna was too tired to get the mud out of her fur with fire. She’d put up with getting wet, but Nico had nearly scalded himself getting the water hot enough for her and she’d been grumpy the rest of the day. Sedna wasn’t a fire-type or electric-type, but she’d been tied up and thrown in a freezing river. Nico doubted she was going to enjoy it. He wished he could just use a couple washcloths, but her hind legs and tail had gotten too wet for that to be enough.

Even getting her anywhere near a shower turned out to be a challenge. This sure as hell wasn’t a good time to try to introduce her to Pokeballs, so his plan was to wrap her in a towel and carry her up to his room in it. It took twenty minutes of sitting there freezing in a pair of swim trunks to even coax her onto the towel. It was crazy how much difference clothing made, although he had also had a fire-type on his lap earlier. Sedna was still shivering periodically – he wasn’t sure if it was from cold or fear.

“You cold, girl?” He slowly gathered up the corners of the towel, trying not to make any sudden movement. “This is going to be nice and warm, okay? I’m just going to pick you up, and – whoa, whoa, Sedna, it’s okay!”

But as soon as he tried to wrap the towel over her back, she freaked out again, trying to jump away with a noise that was half growl, half yelp. Her foot got caught on it, pulling her off balance, and as she tried to run she slipped on the wet floor and fell. Back to square one. The poor creature was even worse off than before, and she refused to set a single paw on the towel again. Had it reminded her of the bag she’d been stuffed into, Nico wondered?

He wasn’t sure if she’d let him pick her up at all, at least not long enough to carry her upstairs. If he could wipe her paws off and lead her into the bathroom, maybe he could at least lift her into the tub. But her following him was a big if. Maybe if he kind of wrapped the towel around his arms and chest, it would feel less like being shoved in a burlap sack? It was worth a try, at least.

“All right, Sedna. I have to pick you up. Just hold still, girl. That’s it...” He kept his voice low and moved as slowly and smoothly as he could. “Come’ere… come’ere...” He waited until he was almost touching her, then moved fast, like he was trying to catch a spider under an overturned cup without it darting away and getting crushed under the edge. He scooped Sedna up with one arm supporting her hindquarters and one under her chest, and stood up holding her tightly. Her eyes immediately widened and she tensed, squirming in his grip. She growled softly.

“It’s okay! It’s okay, girl! I’m not gonna hurt you!” Nico tried to reassure her. He could feel her heartbeat pounding against his chest like a jackhammer. And she was so light. Styxeon was the smallest of the Eeveelutions by a wide margin, around fifteen kilos from what he’d looked up. But Sedna couldn’t have been more than ten, probably more like eight. “I’m trying to help you, please don’t maul me… Good girl...” She was relaxing a little bit, and the growling had stopped. “Okay, I’m going to bring you upstairs...” Then he felt something cold against his arm. Had the towel just soaked through? “Ew, ew, ew, fuck! Erin! Hey, Erin, help me with the door please, my arms are kinda full!”

He marched the Pokemon upstairs as fast as he could without jostling her. He nearly had a heart attack when he remembered he’d left his key in his room when he changed, but luckily Past Nico had apparently also left the door cracked. He shoved the bathmat aside with his heel and tried to set her down gently, but as soon as she loosened his grip she wriggled and jumped out of his arms. She landed hard, her front legs sliding out from under her and her chin hitting the tile with a loud ‘Thwok’ sound. Nico winced. Pokemon weren’t easy to injure, but that had to hurt. “You okay, girl?”

Sedna looked around the room with quivering eyes. She stood rooted to the spot with her tail tucked under, then looked up at him with heart-wrenching uncertainty.

Nico sighed. “Sedna, there’s nothing scary about this.” He slid the door shut behind them and turned the lock. “It’s just a shower. Can you get in the bathtub? Come on girl, get in!” He pulled the sliding shower door aside and patted the rim of the tub. No luck. When he tried to lift her in she twisted away with a warning hiss. “Okay, fine. How about I get in the shower?” He stepped into the tub, turned the shower on, and immediately let out a string of curses until he got the showerhead pointed at the wall.

“Fucking freezing! I’m an idiot!” Sedna, and half the bathroom floor, had gotten misted by the spray. She shook her head violently and sneezed. Not a good start. Nico waited until the water was actually hot, then made a big show of rinsing himself off, including sticking his head under the shower. “See? The water isn’t dangerous! I’m not melting!” He picked up the bottle of shampoo. It had a picture of a smiling Pikachu covered in suds on the front. ‘For fine-textured fur,’ the label read. ‘Contains 15 relaxing herbs.’ Perfect. Pokemon Centers generally assumed trainers were capable of buying their own personal hygiene products, and apart form hand soap everything stocked in the rooms was Pokemon-safe products of various kinds. Most of them were human-safe too though, and it was a long-running joke that you could identify a traveling trainer by smell because everyone was too cheap, too lazy, or too weight-conscious to buy separate soap for themselves. Nico certainly didn’t bother. But screw it, he didn’t need to wash his hair tonight anyway.

It took a long time to get Sedna used to the idea. Nico was glad the Pokemon Center had a good water heater. She pawed at the door at first, but when she’d given up on escaping she started to watch him with exhausted curiosity. She peered over the edge of the bathtub, but flinched and backed away whenever a drop of water hit her. Eventually, though, Nico was able to get her to sniff his hand, then let him touch her with wet hands, and finally… the moment of truth.

“C’mere, sweetie. I promise this isn’t going to hurt you.” Nico leaned out of the tub, got both hands around Sedna’s chest, made sure she wasn’t struggling against that, and lifted her in. She immediately went stiff as a board and splayed her legs and claws out, letting out a high whine. She made a halfhearted attempt to climb back out when he set her down, but didn’t shred his arm when he gently held her shoulders down while he slid the door closed. When she saw there was no escape route, she looked pitifully up at him with her ears flat against her head, and shrank against the far wall of the tub. Her back paws slid uselessly on the steep wall. Her tail was between her legs again, and she started to shiver as if in anticipation of what was going to happen.

“I’m so sorry, girl. I have to do this. I’m not trying to torture you!” Nico said. Sedna seemed to have accepted her fate, but it seemed like she hadn’t so much realized it wasn’t bad so much as she was catatonic from fear and exhaustion. Part of him just wanted to get it over with – it wasn’t going to be unpleasant for her one way or another, so why make the process take longer? That was what he’d done with Kenna – helped out by making the water so hot he could hardly stand to touch it – but her discomfort had been mostly physical. Sedna was scared. He had to be as gentle and patient with her as he could so she wouldn’t associate this with being hurt.

He sighed, and sat down with the trembling Styxeon, and went through the process of letting her sniff his hand, then working up to petting her and getting her fur damp, then turning the showerhead on the wall so the mist came down on her, before finally adjusting it to its gentlest setting and spraying her directly. But something had changed. She was still trying to make herself as small as possible as if that would make the water miss her, but she wasn’t pressing herself against the wall anymore. It was more like she was trying to use him as a makeshift shelter. At first she hovered a few centimeters away, but soon she was pressing herself against his legs, making soft, plaintive noises.

If she was trying to make him feel so guilty he stopped, she was damn close. Nico wanted to cry. This poor, sweet Pokemon… He knelt next to her, stroking her sodden head and shoulders with one hand. He pulled the showerhead almost to the floor, aiming it upward to make sure he got the areas that were why she needed a bath in the first place. By now Sedna was as thoroughly soaked as when he’d pulled her out of the river. Once again he was surprised by how skinny she was under the soft, fluffy coat of fur that was now completely plastered to her body. It was worse now than when she was an Eevee, because her new form was naturally more slender, and evolving without getting a chance to build up energy must have burned off whatever body fat she had. She wasn’t emaciated, but ribs and some of the bumps of her spine were showing.

Actually washing her was the hardest part. He dabbed about three times as much shampoo on the washcloth as he probably needed, but the relaxing formula had no discernible effect. Sedna wasn’t biting or clawing, but she was so tense it was like trying to wash a statue, if statues shivered and flinched when he touched a bruise a spot that hurt and sometimes struggled. Struggle wasn’t totally the right word, because she was too strong for him to stop her, but the foam had turned the whole tub into a slip ‘n slide, and when she tried to pull away or climb to freedom she kept falling. He was trying to be gentle, but when he washed her paws he found bruises and scabs where the zipties had bound her wrists and ankles. There were smaller wounds too, that must have been from being kicked and bitten and clawed by her siblings as they tried to free themselves. At least, he was hoping that they weren’t from before that.

He saved the worst for last: her back legs and tail. He’d gotten everything else besides her head – even if the shampoo wasn’t harmful to get in her eyes or mouth it would probably still sting – and he was hoping she’d get at least a little used to being washed. Now though, he was wishing he’d just gotten it over with, because it seemed like Sedna had tolerated it as long as she could, and now she was at her limit.

“Come on, sweetie, I have to get all of you clean!” Nico pleaded. The Styxeon was pressed against the drain-side wall now, giving him a look of utter betrayal, like he really had tried to drown her again. But she didn’t move an inch of her own free will, and he ended up practically having to wrestle her tail from between her legs with a soapy washcloth while trying to restrain the soaked, slippery Pokemon one-handed. It was almost as uncomfortable for him as it was for her. He found out the hard way that yes, the shampoo really did sting like hell to get into his eyes or in an open wound. Not to mention it tasted awful. And he was genuinely afraid that what little trust Sedna had in him had been shattered.

But as he was checking that the scratches weren’t too deep while he gave Sedna a few minutes to recover before he rinsed her off, something changed. Sedna timidly crept up to him, her head lowered and her long ears folded down so the tips almost brushed the floor of the tub. Without thinking about it, he reached out and stroked her head. She jerked away at first, but more startled then scared this time. She approached him again, and the next thing he knew she was on his lap, dripping suds and pressing her soaking wet body against his chest. She was shaking again, and her breathing was fast and sharp like she was crying too quietly to be heard over the running water.

She stayed there the entire time as he turned the showerhead on her again, making sure he got every last bit of shampoo out of her fur. She leaped out of the tub as soon as he opened the door – and slipped and fell on the tile again – but this time she didn’t stop him from wrapping her in a towel. Her fur was too thick to get completely dry without a hair dryer, which he didn’t have and would probably have scared her anyway. He dried her off as thoroughly as she could, but even after he’d dried himself off, changed, and gotten Kenna and Zagi to settle down, she was still damp when he carried her to bed. Kenna was suspicious of Sedna, but luckily she hadn’t seen the worst of the freakout. She sniffed her a few times, then groaned and curled up near the end of the bed. Zagi was already out cold on the clothes Nico had tossed on the floor.

Sedna’s blinking was sluggish, and she kept staring blankly into space with her eyelids slowly descending. Nico was on the verge of passing out, too. Was he supposed to go to sleep with a concussion? For how long? It had been at least an hour. Was that enough? If he was concussed it probably wasn’t that bad anyway. He’d been able to stand up straight, have a conversation… he was kind of slurring his speech now, but that was probably caused by a serious medical condition called Four in the Damn Morning. Fuck it. Bed. He pulled the blankets back and laid the last remaining dry towel out on the mattress. Without the heat of the shower on her she kept shivering, and he figured an extra layer would help keep her warm. Plus, if damp sheets were like damp pillowcases, they’d be cold and uncomfortable to sleep on.

He patted the mattress. Sedna was sitting on the floor looking confused and uncomfortable. She looked up, but didn’t seem to understand what the gesture meant. He tried again, calling: “Sedna! Come on up, girl! Come on, can you jump up here?” If she actually wanted to sleep on the floor, that was fine, but it didn’t seem like she was scared of coming within ten feet of him anymore. She sniffed at the mattress uncertainly.

Nico sighed. He slid out of bed, and picked the Styxeon up without resistance. “Come on, sweetie. Up you go.” She slumped onto the mattress listlessly, staring at him with an expression he couldn’t quite identify. “What’s wrong?” he asked. He reached a hand out slowly over her head, but she flinched, closing her eyes and backing away until one paw slid of the edge of the bed. “Sorry! I’m sorry, girl! It’s okay for you to be up here!”

Sedna timidly padded back to the towel, inching one paw at a time forward. With a faint sigh she started to knead at it with her forepaws. “Good girl,” Nico said. He rolled over to turn out the light, but when he rolled back over he was met with a pair of mournful orange eyes staring into his. He froze, barely daring to breathe. He closed his eyes, but the memory of the ghoulish, half-skeletal figure on top of his chest returned.

“Ugh… I think you’re gonna give me nightmares, girl...” he muttered. “What do you need?”

The glowing eyes closed, leaving the room lit only by the faint city lights through the curtains. Nico felt the weight on the mattress next to him get closer. With a soft groan that faded to a whine, Sedna snuggled up against his chest, resting her head under his chin. “Oh, sweetie...” he whispered. He could feel the chill of her damp fur through his pajamas, but her body was warm. And breathing – little tense, shallow breaths, but she was breathing. She smelled like lavender, almost overpowering the scent of wet fur. She was alive. The monster that had nearly given him a heart attack wasn’t real – or in a way it was, but it was made of Sedna’s own fear, of her memories, mixed with her kind’s natural power. He’d just gotten a glimpse of what had to be inside the poor little creature’s head.

She was still shivering, her breathing still occasionally lapsing into soft crying. Nico pulled the covers up and folded the towel over her. She’d dragged it over to the middle of the bed before lying down next to him. He couldn’t help smiling. That was just adorable! He just hoped it wasn’t because she thought she’d be in trouble for lying directly on the sheets. He couldn’t wrap his head around how anyone could possibly have not just abandoned this creature, but tried to murder her, and her siblings. Only… they’d succeeded. Only two of the Eevees had made it. A sobering thought occurred to him. Did Sedna know? Did she know three of them had died? Did she know any of them had lived? There were a lot of different legends about Ghost-Types. In folklore some species guided lost souls to the underworld.

But myths didn’t mean much here. Sedna was confused, alone, and Nico was sure one way or another she missed her brothers and sisters. This was a Pokemon who was scared of people, and for all he knew had never been treated with kindness in her life, but was clinging to the only source of comfort that was even the tiniest bit familiar. Tomorrow he’d have to bring her in for a checkup, and hopefully she’d be able to visit her sister even if she wasn’t in good enough shape to leave the Pokemon Center ward yet. And then… it probably wasn’t going to be easy taking care of her, and he was still afraid he wasn’t prepared for what he was getting himself into, but he hoped this bond born of desperation would grow into something real. It already had for him.

He wrapped his arm around Sedna and held her, gently but securely. “It’s gonna be okay, Sedna,” he whispered. “Good, good girl.” He started to stroke the soft, downy fur on her head, and her breathing slowly became more even. The last thing he remembered before he fell asleep was her hugging his forearm against her chest, and pressing herself against his.

~~~

A/N:

So, uhh... kinda went way out of my comfort zone on this one. Good News: I haven’t made a character throw up onscreen for cheap Suffering Points this Whumptober (I ain’t counting Day 4 since that was in the past), which is kind of surprising. Bad News: I made a character wet herself. Which is... ugh. Anything toilet-related is a huge phobia/squick for me IRL, I wasn’t sure if I could even make myself write this one. It took for fucking ever, partly because of how long it is, but partly because of procrastinating to avoid writing the uncomfortable scene and cringing. But I had to do it For The Concept.

Basically I’ve seen a few “Caretaker helping Whumpee bathe” type prompts on here and wanted to do one of those, especially with an animal whumpee, and took inspiration from real-life experience occasionally having to bathe my family’s small dogs, who do not enjoy baths and get cold super easily. It’s pathetic and makes you feel like a horrible person for having to do this to them, which also makes it perfect for whump fics, and doing it to Sedna less than 24 hours after she was thrown in a river and nearly drowned is even better!

But that meant I needed a reason why any decent human being would be forced to give her a bath, because obviously that would be horribly traumatic, and getting into something toxic or otherwise dangerous didn’t fit into the plot. And also while doing my like half an hour of medical research I found that secondary drowning is sometimes treated using diuretic medication.

[turtlepated]

Beetlejuice x Reader - Lonely Like Me

Part 2

This one’s waaaay longer than Part 1, and I cranked the angst up to 11 and broke off the knob, so tread lightly. Don’t wanna upset anyone. Thanks for reading!

@imtherain

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Beetlejuice was invisible for a long, long time before Lydia came along. He hated it, but he got used to it because he had no choice. Now he’s got his own weird little family thing going on and he’s the most content he’s ever been. But then he discovers that someone else can see him, too, and he just has to check it out. 

Your life wasn't much, but you did all right.

You didn't like your job very much, but it wasn't without it's perks. It was certainly a step up from ten years' worth of minimum wage drudgery in one department store after another. It was still far from your dream job, but you could get by. You tried hard to remember that.

Your social circle was... easy to keep track of. Over the course of your life you'd had really good friends from middle school on up through senior year. You'd been close with a couple people in particular, but as you all got older and your lives became more hectic, people spread out and lost touch. You understood that, it was only natural after all. You did think more than once that maybe you ought to reach out some time, just to touch base and catch up.

But then the thought would occur to you that if they really wanted to talk to you, they would do it. It seemed to happen sooner or later with every friendship you made. One day they just... stopped answering your messages and you figured that was that. It bothered you sometimes, but you were used to it. Life went on for everybody. 

But not for you.

Things began changing the day you almost crashed your shopping cart into that strange man at the supermarket. You had never seen another person like him in your life, at least not in living color and outside the glow of the TV screen. He'd been dressed in a black and white striped suit in such a state of distress that it looked as though he'd fallen down a ravine while wearing it. And his hair! Brilliant green locks that stood straight up from his scalp as though electrified.

You'd apologized, of course, offering him a smile and heading on your way. You'd glanced back over your shoulder as you rounded the next aisle, but he wasn't there? No way you would have missed such an outlandishly dressed person, but it was as though he'd disappeared into thin air. Strangely, the black-clad teenage girl he'd presumably been with was still standing right where you'd seen her before, apparently talking to herself. You shrugged it off. After all, you often talked to yourself too.

Ever since that day you've had this feeling like you were being watched. It would be the barest flicker in your peripheral vision, enough to make your pulse speed up a little bit. But there was never anything there. Even your cat would apparently just stare at a random area of empty space. Which was, admittedly, not unusual for a cat.

You did your best to put it out of your mind. You had plenty of other things to concern yourself with than imaginary visitors. Your job was monotonous, it was repetitive. There were days you dreaded going to bed at night because you knew that in the morning you would have to go back there for nine hours with no escape. You tried to make your cubicle into your haven from the mind-numbing tedium. You tacked goofy little drawings and memes and poems all around your walls. You decorated it with seasonal trappings: fake flowers in the spring, pumpkins and leaves in fall, fairy lights and garland at Christmas. Some days it was enough to distract you. And some days it wasn’t.

One week, for no particular reason, it’s bad. You start out every day frustrated for no definable reason, and then you have to go to work where it only gets worse. From Monday to Friday, everything is awful and it sends you spiraling down a dark pit into despair that try as you might, you can’t seem to pull yourself out of. The hours drag by with unbearable slowness, each passing second seeming to cost you more than you knew you had to give. You soldier on as best you can, wanting more than anything to simply go home and collapse into someone’s comforting embrace and just cry. But no matter how fiercely you want it, how desperately you wish for it, no one will be there. You will spend the night as you always have; alone, aching, and drying your own tears.

Finally, blessedly, you leave work for the day and you would have the whole weekend to try and recover from this terrible week before doing it all over again. When you step through your door a short while later you find the house utterly empty save for yourself and your cat. Ordinarily shutting the door behind you after a long day would bring on such a sense of relief. You would pet your cat and change into your pajamas, sit on the couch and relax. But not today.

You kick your shoes off at the door and leave them there, slinging your coat over the back of the couch as you pass by it, dropping your shoulder bag on the floor as you begin shucking off your clothing, stripping right down to your underwear and crawling back into bed, pulling the covers up over your head. It only takes a few seconds before it begins to get stuffy in your cocoon, your face growing hot as your eyeballs burn. At long last tears come, soaking your pillow, coating your cheeks as you curl into as tight a ball as you can, trying to stave off the gnawing ache in the center of your chest.

When it becomes too difficult to breathe you sit up in bed, raking back the hair stuck to your damp face, sniffling, your eyes red and raw. God dammit, you’re being ridiculous. You’re an adult, for crap’s sake, you’re supposed to be stronger than this. Yet here you are, bawling your eyes out, wishing so damn badly just for someone to sit next to you and say everything will be ok.

Your phone rings loudly from its place on your headboard and you jump, your heart leaping into your throat at the unexpected sound. Curious, you raise it up to see who’s calling. The screen reads: “UNKNOWN – 2383543873”. You roll your eyes, clearly a telemarketer or robocall, and silence the phone before setting it back on the headboard. You take a deep breath, filling your lungs til they felt they might burst, and let it all out in a harsh exhale between pursed lips. You actually do feel better, at least, after the crying session, sort of emptied out. Your head jerks round as your phone rings again, “UNKNOWN – 2383543873”. What in the world?

You don’t silence it this time, but you don’t answer it either. You sit there watching the phone, and sure enough a minute later it rings once again: “UNKNOWN – 2383543873”. This time you pick it up, swiping your finger across the screen to accept the call. “Hello?” you say tentatively. Silence is your only response. “Hello?”

After nearly 30 seconds of no answer, you lower the phone to hang up. At the same moment your thumb hits the Call End button, you think you hear a voice on the line: “He-…Hello?” It’s low, raspy and gravelly and it sounds surprised, but before you have time to react you’ve already hung up the phone. Barely a minute later it rings again and you pick it up immediately. “Who is this?” you demand, the beginnings of real fear tightening in your chest. You can hear what sounds like heavy breathing on the other end of the line, and that same gravelly voice in your ear, “Holy crap, is this really working?” “What do you want?” There’s a burst of maniacal laughter that makes you snatch the phone away from your ear. “I can’t believe it, it is working! Hiya, babes!”

You’re completely dumbfounded. What is going on here? Who is this strange man (because by now you’re pretty sure it’s a man’s voice) and why is he calling you? Is he drunk? High? Some combination of the two? “Is there something I can help you with?” you ask him, interrupting his gleeful giggling and babbling, getting frustrated with this whole crazy situation. “First things first, sweet stuff,” he says in a sing-song tone. “I’m gonna need ya to say my name, and then I can help you.” You frown, confused by the request and a little unsettled by the eagerness in his voice. “All right, weirdo, I’m hanging up now,” you say flatly. “Have nice night or whatever.” As you lower the phone you hear him sputtering in alarm. “Wait wait wait wait!” With a sigh you raise the phone back up. “I know this is weird and I didn’t mean to piss you off, but I just wanted to say everything’s gonna be ok.”

He says it all in one breath, like he’s afraid of being cut off before he finishes speaking, so it takes you a minute to fully process the onslaught of words. But when you do you can’t help feeling a little unnerved. “What?” you ask dumbly, thinking maybe you’ve misunderstood him. “I know you’ve been havin a hard time, doll, and I just wanted to letcha know everything’s gonna be ok.”

Your breath catches in your throat. How did he-? “Are you… watching me??” There’s a pause before he answers. “Is there any possible way I can say yes to that question without you getting mad and hanging up on me?” You scoff, angry at the invasion of privacy, afraid of what his motive might be, and hang up at once, scrambling out of bed to put on more clothes. You feel unbelievably vulnerable, what if he’s watching you right now?

You throw on a t shirt and pajama bottoms, peering out through your blinds to see if you can spot anybody watching your house. It’s already dark, but as far as you can see there’s no one around. The phone rings again, the same number, the same Unknown caller. You ignore it and soon enough it stops. But then it rings again, and again. You snatch up your phone and turn it off. It’s not a permanent solution, but maybe it’ll buy you some peace of mind for the night.

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

Sorry for the massive angst-dump, but hopefully Part 3 will make up for it when Reader finally gets to meet the Ghost with the Most! 

PS: there’s a little bit of an Easter Egg slipped into this part. If you figure it out, you get a high five!

[wolfie-posts]

Kiss and Run

Bakugou Katsuki x Female!Reader

Read Chapter 2 here

Author: @wolfie-posts

Warning: language obviously! A little bit angsty

Chapter length: 1,900 words

Story Summary:

You did it! You were given the opportunity to study at U.A. alongside class 1A to become a pro-hero. Within the next three years, you were gonna learn more about yourself and your special quirk, about friendship, about fighting, winning and losing. The road to your goal is bumpy and steep with a lot of obstacles like villains and an explosive blond boy, who decided to make your life a little harder. Will you finally be able to control your quirk? Will you overcome the problems together with your classmates along the way?

A/N: This is my first attempt at multi-chapter fanfiction. I am really excited to work on this and I really hope you enjoy it. Please behold that I am not native English, so there could be some mistakes. I don’t really have a schedule for the updates, so we will see how that goes. Have fun reading my lovelies! 

AO3 

Quotev

Wattpad

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Today was the day...

Today would decide over your future, whether you would be accepted into U.A. or not. Today was the day of the entrance exam and you were shitting your pants.

This was your only chance to get into the best hero academy in Japan, your only chance of figuring out how to control your quirk properly, to grow stronger and redeem yourself.

Everyone was gathered in front of a huge gate. Looking around you, all you could see were kids mentally preparing themselves for the fight.

Some of the kids were already wearing some kind of hero costume to enhance their power.

“Fucking ridiculous,” you mumbled while looking down at your casual outfit. You were just wearing normal jeans with a leather jacket above your plain white t-shirt.

The other contestants were making you nervous, which made you click your boots together and shuffle around uncomfortably.

‘Why am I even nervous? I have the advantage of being able to hack everything that has a technological circuit.’

You inherited that quirk from your father or at least, you thought you did for the longest time. Turns out it was a little more complicated than that.

-----Flashback-----

The doctor was looking at your test results, brows furrowed. He looked up at you for a second but quickly returned to reading through the many documents in front of him. He paused again and looked back up at you with a look of confusion plastered on his face.

Your parents were getting nervous and growing slowly impatient.

“Well, Doctor? Do you know what’s wrong with her eyes?” your mother finally broke the silence, not being able to withstand the tension any longer.

“Well, at first we thought she just inherited both of your powers,” the doctor began cautiously. “She is obviously able to hack and manipulate computers and other pieces of technology, like you Mr. L/N. She also has your physical abilities Mrs. L/N. Her reflexes are amazing and she’s incredibly fast and strong for someone her age.”

“Yes, we know that much already, but what about her eyes and hair changing colors?” your father asked, growing even more impatient.

“Well, I looked through your family tree and the documented entries about the abilities of your relatives,” the doctor said, shuffling through his papers and glancing up at you every now and then as if you were some sort of delightful specimen. “Apparently, way back, you had a relative whose powers could be described as a copycat.”

“So what you’re telling us is that she didn't inherit our powers. She just copied them?” your mom asked confused.

“Indeed.”

“Do you know anything else about her abilities? How they work or what the color change means?” your father kept pushing, wanting answers for his questions.

“Every time she uses her quirk, her eyes change to the color of the person’s who’s quirk she’s copying. However, she doesn’t have a typical copy quirk. She doesn't have to touch the person before she copies them, also she doesn't really have a specific time limit to her powers. Most copycats can only use their power for roughly 5 minutes,” the doctor examined you closely again. “Although, that doesn't mean your daughter doesn't have a limit of using her powers. The moment she exhausts herself or loses focus and control, her hair will change to the color of the person’s hair she is copying. Just like her eyes. If that happens, all her powers will suddenly vanish. We’re not sure how long the effects of overuse will last, we’ll have to run tests to be certain, but we’ve estimated somewhere around half an hour.”

“Oh... I see,” your mother said, looking at you with a concerned expression on her face. “Well, how does she activate her quirk if it’s not through touch?”

The doctor winced and leaned in towards your mother’s ear. He whispered something and your mother’s face paled.

“O-Oh, okay then,” your mother stammered, avoiding your curious gaze. “Y-Yes, I’ll tell her.”

-----Flashback end-----

All the information was just too much for you back then. You didn’t even know you were copying your parents, you thought you had their quirks naturally.

You didn’t have anyone to teach you how to control your quirk or even use it properly which was why you had to get into U.A.

Your powers were fucking useless. Well, not really useless, per se, but they weren't... conventional.

If you couldn't handle your own power, at least you could perfect your body and the physical abilities that you copied from your mother. It isn’t All Might level strength but you were a bit quicker on your feet and stronger than the average person.

Those hard years of training really paid off and you knew that you weren't fragile and could stand your ground in a fight. You had practically perfected the use of your parent’s quirks to the point that you had practically no limit to either of them.

The sudden yelling around you pulled you back into reality. Present Mic was standing on a tower near the gate. He smiled mischievously. The next thing you heard was: “What are you waiting for? There won't be a countdown! Better hurry to get those points you got 9 minutes left!”

Before the words even sunk in, your legs were already carrying you through the open gate. You were running alongside so many other kids who could be your future classmates, but right now they were competition and you weren't gonna lose this test.

You were sprinting full-on, wanting to put as much distance as possible between you and your competitors. It didn’t take long for you to be part of the few people in the front.

Everyone quickly spread out through the fake city, not wanting to have other people claiming their points.

As you ran through the streets of the modeled city, you spotted a robot in a narrow alleyway.

It detected your presence almost immediately, whirling around to face you. Its arms flailed in stiff motions, steam coming out of its sides, red lights focusing on your body, trying to hit you.

Instead of trying to face it head-on, you ran as fast as you could and slid under the machine.

You popped up on the other side and pressed your two palms flat to the cold metal, activating your quirk and shutting down the robot’s circuits.

You let out a sharp breath through your nose, a proud grin appearing on your face “Hm.. 3 points? Easy! I was scared for nothing, I guess.” Feet carrying you already further down the alley, you didn’t even look when the processor of the robot overheated and finally exploded. You tallied your points mentally, keeping track of your kills as best as you could.

The robots popped up like bugs. It was safe to say that you didn’t need to search for them because they just appeared around you, leaving you no time for a break. Then again, who even wants a break when every second counts?

Suddenly, you heard a speaker crackling to life, followed by a loud voice ringing through your ears. “4 minutes left! Better make ‘em count!”

With your father’s quirk, it was easy to destroy the robots without even breaking a sweat. Everything was running smoothly until they unleashed the 0-pointer.

You were running down the main road when the voice came back through the speakers. Just as the man told you and everyone else the remaining time, a huge robot appeared right in front of you.

For a 0 point robot, that thing was waaaay too huge and powerful. “Are they trying to kill us?” you mumbled angrily, adrenaline rushing through your system and making your muscles tense even more.

The robot towered over probably half of the fake city, arms deadly with spikes and other shit you didn’t want to look at.

You could hear gasps and screams around you, followed by kids running in the other direction far away from the murderous thing. You were about to run away too when a blond boy caught your attention in the corner of your eye.

The 0-pointer wasn’t even 20 meters away, but firecracker dude just kept on blowing up the other robots around him.

“What the fuck is this idiot doing? Does he want to get killed?” you growled through gritted teeth, running straight toward the danger.

You didn’t really think about what you were doing. Your legs were carrying you as fast as possible towards the blond boy.

Your heart dropped and your breath got caught in your throat the moment you saw the deadly arm of the robot heading straight for firecracker boy.

The next thing you know, you had shoved the boy out of the way and took the hit for him. Not a second later, you could feel one of the spikes slicing through the surface of your shoulder, leaving a nasty scratch. A piece of heavy debris instantly hit the ground where the two of you were standing seconds ago.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING, SHITTY GIRL?!” the blond screamed at you as you coughed and groaned, trying to put pressure on your bleeding wound.

“THAT’S NOT THE NICEST THING TO SAY TO SOMEONE WHO JUST SAVED YOUR STUPID LIFE, ASSHAT!” you yelled back with just as much anger, hurling yourself up and at another robot, not wasting any time on gaining points.

You heard a frustrated roar from the boy who just catapulted himself right back into the fight beside you. A loud siren snapped you out of your rage. “The U.A. entrance exam is over!” and just like that, all of the robots that weren't defeated shut down.

Exhaustion washed over you and you fell down on your knees, clutching your bleeding shoulder. The adrenaline started to wear off and was replaced with burning pain.

“Oh dear, that is a nasty scratch! Let me help you,” an old lady in front of you said.

‘Where the hell did she come from?’ you thought, following her every move curiously.

She reached out and planted a kiss on your skin. A warm tickling feeling spread through your body and just like that the wound and the accompanying pain were gone.

“Ummmm, t-thank you very much!” you said in astonishment.

“No worries, my dear!” she waved you off, heading straight for the next injured kid.

The old lady left and in her place, a fuming blond boy appeared. “I don’t need saving from anyone, especially not some weak ass girl like you!” he said angrily, though it sounded more like a growl to you.

Being flattened by that stupid robot would be more pleasant than dealing with this ungrateful shitstain in front of you.

‘Is a thank you too much to ask for these days?’

“I lost important time because of your stupidity!” he kept on yelling.

“STUPIDITY?! YOU KNOW WHAT?! NEXT TIME, I’LL LET THAT ROBOT SLICE YOU TO BITS, ASSHAT!” you burst out. Flames were probably coming from your eyes, mentally burning the blond boy.

“HAAH, DON’T MAKE ME LAUGH, SHITFACE! THERE WON’T BE A NEXT TIME! THEY DON’T ALLOW WEAKLINGS LIKE YOU INTO U.A.!” the blond boy yelled, catching the attention of everybody around you. He stomped away, followed by shocked looks.

You growled lowly in your throat, forcing the frustrated tears back. You were clenching your fists so hard that your nails were cutting into the palms of your hand. You didn’t want to admit that his words had cut even deeper than that stupid robot.

Next Chapter 

[smolbeandrabbles]

Dear Life - Tom McLaren x Reader (Vertical Limit)

Author’s Note: This One Is For The Nicholas Lea Fans! ...And like the one person I know might read this 🤣 Better believe I will be upping the ante on him somewhat over the next few months!  Dear Life - High Valley  - Now I haven’t used this or any High Valley music yet - God knows why. Time to rectify! 

Disclaimer: Okay, I know next to nothing about climbing, so my references are like... this movie... / Vertical Limit character’s aren’t mine (Again, or we’d have thrown Elliot off a cliff) / lyrics not mine. But this song really hurts for this. to be honest.

Premise: You’re 2 months away from becoming Mrs.Tom McLaren, and as you sit here and reminisce your relationship, Tom begins getting ready for his final trip before the wedding, to K2 with Elliot Vaughn... 

Words: 3599

Warnings: Nada

______ Dear Life, I hope you know I've loved you every mile down this road Had my share of hits and misses Tryin' to keep between the ditches Dear Life, I hope you know Dear Life, what's your plan Is where I'm suppose to be, right where I am If it is, then I ain’t leavin' If it ain't, then I'll keep on dreamin' Dear Life, what's your plan Now you're flying by too fast I'll fight to make you last Beggin' won’t you please, just slow down You're scaring me to death I'm tryin' to catch my breath Don't wanna let you go I'm hangin' on for dear life I wanna leave my mark Love til it breaks my heart Live so loud that my forever Echoes in the dark ---

Tom always carried a video camera. He said it wasn't to detail every stupid little mistake you made climbing - but you knew in truth it really was. He was the real mountain climber - at least high-altitude, in snow, hiking and climbing. You could hike with the best of them - but your speciality was free climbing over drier terrain and rocks, not snow and ice. You used to tell him the only reason that you would ever climb up snow was to ski back down - and he would laugh at you for that. But whenever you got back home he'd spend a painstaking amount of time editing together compilation videos. That you never got to see, but knew existed. "One day you're gonna have to show me!" "Aw, nah! None are finished Y/N! I can't show you something that's not done!"

 He could say that all he wanted - but as you sat in your apartment today leafing through your wedding planner again and sticking things into place, you couldn't help but notice how many video stills had ended up on the walls. Usually they were of him making funny faces at the way you were climbing or just genuine concern. Your favourite was one of the ones he had to sharply angle against the cliff face - you miles ahead of him, and the number of cams in the wall waaaay less than you should have put - at least to support both of you - to which he'd hand written the caption 'People I Should Never Trust With My Life On A Mountain: My Girlfriend." It wasn’t like you didn’t have the same kind of humour though. What about the one he’d had framed in his office? A picture of you with your head in your hands waiting for him to take an ungodly amount of time to decide on the correct number of cams to stick in the wall to take your weight, to continue climbing along. Captioned: “How it Feels to Be (Literally) Tied to Your Boyfriend For 24 Hours.” That summed you both up – you wanted the least amount of equipment for a light and fast ascent. Tom was all about safety, especially if you were there with him.

So you wondered what he might say in all of them... Only you might get your wish, because on occasion you'd filmed other adventures of yours that were less perilous. Like waiting for him at the end of a 5K run, chiding him for taking 15 minutes longer than you, and him protesting that a 5K was not a mountain hike - and he didn't need to continuously run on those! Or paragliding in a much more tropical climate than either of you were really used to. You weren't sure what he was planning, but he had a good friend that was a better videographer that he had taken up more than a few mountains as a guide for documentary shooting; and Tom had asked you for a few of the videos you'd taken. You trusted him enough to surprise you with that, because you had many surprises for him too.

 You leant your head on your hand for a moment and really turned your attention to those photographs. Decorating your home together had been a lot of fun; and you'd both taken a lot of thought and care into colour schemes and themes. At first only a few frames hung on the wall - but now each room showed like a timeline for your relationship. Only it wasn't in the kind of cute photographs couples usually took and there wasn't an anniversary one in sight.

No, these photographs were taken at the summit of every climb you'd ever ascended together. And as the more creative one, you'd made them into pretty collages. Frames weren't often wood or metal anymore - but whatever rope had frayed the most or was the oldest – he’d give you any worn out equipment to help with your endeavour… or sometimes you'd find an interesting stone, or you'd get post cards. You always put the place, height and time it had taken you to climb at the bottom too - sometimes handwritten in yours or his neat script. They became good talking points in themselves... And the first one had only been a birthday gift for him. But Tom had liked it so much he wanted to display it in your hallway instead of his office. "But Tommy then you can look at it when you work!" "Yeah but... When I'm not there who is gonna see it? It deserves to be seen - you put so much effort into this babe...!" And so on proud display it stayed - now joined by so many others.

When Tom wasn't half way around the world leading explorations up one of these peaks he was here with you. He had a number of guides under his expert tuition - and his company was all run out of his office. He liked to make sure that he had at least one employee in every far-reaching corner of the world that intrepid explorers would like to try and conquer... But if you wanted the best of the best, then Tom McLaren would fly out himself. He lived half his life out on mountains, and occasionally you were right there beside him. He liked you coming along for respite. So he could mutter to someone about some of the amateurs he had to escort up; "I dunno Y/N... Makes me feel I should only make the trip for experienced climbers only..." "You got me." And he would smile his best smile "Or I'd go INSANE!" "You're getting paid well for this though, right?" "AH. Yeah, I've always been about the money..." You could only laugh at that look on his face; "Well. Just be about it for this one!"

 You heard the front door open and close and knew he was back. Somehow, there was nothing like the sound of knowing he was home - and your heart skipped a beat. He wandered through into the living room - claret baggy gym shirt, and navy tracks...to go with his navy trainers with questionable tangerine shoe laces. It still made you raise an eyebrow, but Tommy was all about the pop of colour. "...Hey!" He still sounded a little out of breath, despite the fact he would have driven home. "Hey!" You smiled, heart still racing like you were in the presence of a high-school crush. He dropped his gym back by the kitchen and wandered over; you accepted a kiss on the cheek and he leant on the table and tapped the book; "How are we doing?" "Good - thank you! Almost completely ready." "Ah! Thank God for that!" "Aw, and I thought you were the meticulous planner here." "Babe, I am - but this... This is..." He looked a little overwhelmed for a minute, "Something else!" "We got this - you know that right...?" "Oh I know..." Tom breathed, and this time when he lent in you wanted his lips on yours.  "I just... It's so close now I..." He laughed "I guess I'm a little nervous." "More nervous than your next climb? Ah-! Speaking of, you have a meeting with Vaughn at 2..." "I know, but thank you..." He glanced to the clock "I got enough time to get prepped." "Better have..." You weren't his assistant, but you knew Tom's diary down to the minute - mostly because he'd synced your calendars. But when he was so far away from you for so long, you needed to know exactly where he was supposed to be and when. And how long he was expected to be out of signal range. You could deal with not hearing from him for a while; that was the nature of the job, but you still liked to know what days he was climbing, and when he was supposed to be in base camp, so you knew when you really had to worry about him. He gave you one more kiss before moving into the bedroom "One more climb and I marry you!!!" "It's a big one! One thing at a time!" "Like you aren't waiting to be Mrs. Tom McLaren!" "Oh! Only my entire life!" You put a marker in your planner and followed him.

It was still like having a school girl crush. By now he was out of his shirt and going through his wardrobe for something comfortable to wear. His meeting was only over the phone... Of course he caught you staring at him - with his shirt off you could see his tattoo and that strangely shaped scar on his left-hand side. "You okay?" He raised an eyebrow and turned to you, making you shake your head "If you could feel my heart right now..." His laugh was a little bashful and his look to the floor almost shy; "Why?" "I dunno. It's like having a crush on you all over again. I guess I'm just excited..." He looked down at himself with a cheeky grin; "Please clarify!" You scoffed, but knew pink was crossing your cheeks; "Shut up!" He nodded to the bathroom; "I'ma take a shower but-" "OH God! Don't even tempt me!" Tom laughed again; "And now I really feel like I should!" He folded his arms; and there was a familiar chink of metal as the pendant around his neck moved. As far as you knew he'd never taken it off, and he'd never really talked about it much, only to whisper that it was good luck. The twist of tarnished silver was strange in itself; you couldn't quite fathom what it was either. But anything important to Tommy was important to you. (Except it was rough and sharp in places and often stabbed into you at fairly inconvenient times.) It was silly to trust his necklace to keep him safe when you knew his skills would do that on their own. But sometimes the night before he was due to go, and you couldn't sleep (because you never could when those evenings rolled around) you found yourself glaring at it and always thinking the same thing; You better bring him back to me!

 You sprinted across the room to kiss him, which turned into kissing him multiple times, before he tried to pick you up and you shrieked, half giggling as you ran back out. His laugh was gorgeous and clear and loud; "Alright I get it! No showers-!" You peered around the door; "How many floors did you climb?" "300. It's still not K2. But it's a start." You gave a nod and a smile "I'm not gonna make you walk that to the wedding, don't worry." "I could call the venue and we could have it in the mountains...? Why bother making them the view!" "I could kill you, Tom McLaren!" "I'm sure Vaughn would fly everyone up!" He studied your unimpressed look with amusement "Ahhhh.... I believe that face is a firm no..." "Correct." "Alright, go on. Back to planning..." You continued to stare at him "What?" "I love you, babe." He grinned gently, and stepped towards the bathroom "...I love you too, Ms.McLaren." "Aw, not yet!"

 **

 "Oh! Sweetheart...! I think he'll love it!" your mother gasped as you detailed your wedding dress idea to her. Sitting back at the table and opening your planner again surrounded by your photographs and flipping to the dress pages (the only ones Tom was forbidden from looking at) made you remember that. Because it'd been this very table over drinks that you'd told her what you were thinking. It sounded a little insane, the kind of thing nobody would really get. But he would. "...Don't you think everyone will ask me the same questions about a billion times?" "Do you have to answer? I think it's wonderful... And it's not meant for them is it, it's meant for Tom..." You'd had the idea when wandering around your apartment on the phone to other aspects of your wedding, florists... bakery... venue... Musicians... They were long detailed conversations that both you and Tom had had. He tried to help you plan as much as he could, but both of you realised it was kinda hard to plan a wedding halfway up a mountain. But he did promise, and had expertly, sorted himself and his groomsmen out - and when he wasn't preparing for his next climb, he spent all his spare time helping you. Even though you were fine and actually really enjoyed planning this. But, each of these conversations had you staring at the photographs on your wall. And you'd come to the conclusion that climbing was what had brought the two of you together, and was such a huge part of both your lives. The mountains in the background of every picture had got you thinking; even if you were actually standing on the summit of the important ones... So the idea was simple, everything you'd ever summited together - whether it be a cliff face in a national park, or it was something as phenomenal as K2, or Everest. It was making it onto your dress. The scope of work was huge and you'd realised this, so it had taken the seamstresses an age to make to your specification, but you had tried to help and provide assistance at every turn you could. So a few weeks ago you'd gone for your adjustment fitting (although it was pretty perfect once you'd tried it on), when Tom was travelling back from his last climb for a little R and R, and had almost cried when you'd seen it. The mountains had been embroidered like a secret message. Only truly visible if you looked at the detail.  Some were outlined in a blue-tone white and were a little more obvious; but the others blended so perfectly into the skirt - it had turned out more beautiful than you had imagined. And there were actual tears when you tried it on; from both you and your mom and friends.

You closed the book again as you heard him exit his office after his call and tied the ribbon back - replacing it on your shelf. "How'd it go?" "He's crazy. That's all I can say!" "You're gonna do amazing..." "It's not me I'm worried about..." He gave a shrug "I know K2 well enough." You crossed the room and placed your arms around him "...I'm gonna worry about you.." "Yeah. That's why I don't worry - you do it enough." You brushed your lips to his; "Can we go out tonight?" "For dinner...? Mmmm... Don't see why not..." Tom ran his arms around you and pulled you tight to him "What you thinking...?" "The little place on the corner..." "Why do we always go there when I'm about to leave?" "Because it's your favourite." His amusement extended into his light brown eyes as he rolled them; "No. It's because it's your favourite." You smiled, and leant up to kiss him again; "That too."

 ***

 It was the night before he left, and the corridor was full of his gear, you were allowed to go to the airport with him but no further. Part of you wanted to go on Vaughn's expedition. It sounded interesting - and if it was all being broadcast when they hit the top... But Tom wanted you back here, and you understood that too. "You don't need to get caught up in all this..." He tracked back through to the bedroom; "Besides... You don't even like him." "Millionaire who thinks he can throw money at a mountain and it'll do what he wants, so everyone gets to see this inaugural flight? No thanks." "See. You wouldn't even enjoy it!" "Guess I get to see you on TV..." "Well..." He caught you in the living room for a short kiss. Fleeting - just like his time back here always was. You wondered how much Tommy would let you curb that once you got a ring on his finger. "...Unless they cut me out of it!" You folded your arms, with a frown clearly meant for Vaughn himself; "Oh. Because you're only the man whose gonna get him up there!" "...eh, millionaires!" "Who else is going with you?" "Annie Garrett." You gasped "Annie! Aw, I love her!" "Yeah another reason you aren't going!" He laughed "We'll never get anywhere...!" You followed him and realised there was at least another suitcase and a half to go "...I rebuke that and think we could probably take you in a race to the top." He shot you a look "K2 is not about racing. It's a-" You mimicked his serious voice with a whine "-Very technical climb and the most dangerous mountain in the world-!" He narrowed his eyes slightly, making you smile; "Didn't you get over lecturing me 5 years ago, Tommy?" "Clearly not, if you're gonna make stupid comments." He turned back to his things which made you sigh. "Babe, do you want some help?" His brown eyes flicked over his shoulder again "Oh, sweetheart, would you?" You nodded eagerly with a sweet smile; "Mmmm... I like helping you pack. The only thing I don't like is watching you leave..."

 ***

 You stood holding his hands so tight in the airport, and realised how torn up you were about this. "Y/N... You are gonna have to let me go eventually, you know that right?" "Yeah but I..." You weren't looking at him, but his hands, laced with your own - the pretty cut diamond of your engagement ring glittering gently in the lights. He bent to try to get you to look at him. "But you...?" "This one is so much harder than the rest... I just... Wanna marry you now. And K2..." "Hey... Hey... C'mere..." He wrapped you in his arms, pulling your head into his chest and stroking a hand through your hair; "Sweetheart you never do this... What's wrong?" "I'm just really gonna miss you on this one. But I'll be watching that TV close, believe me." "I know you will. And I'll be counting down the days until my flight home... And then we square away the final touches... And then Mrs. Tommy McLaren will not just be a Skip joke at base camp... Huh?"

He at least got you laughing gently; but he noticed the tears too. Tom didn't stop you from crying though; your emotions were all over the place ever since he'd got down on one knee. He'd never expected that, which made him guess you'd never expected him to do it in the first place. Probably because that's all his friends did joke about. Including it being present in the original introduction of you two to one another. “Tommy this is Y/N... She's a climber too! Since it's only you two that have that in common if you don't wanna stay sad and single for your lonely lives, you just aught to get married now!” Tom pressed a kiss to your forehead; it was long, and worth every second, before he caught your lips. "Look after the company, alright?" "I will." "And look after yourself... Okay? That's more important..." "I will..." There was a few seconds pause before you threw your arms around him again; "You come back to me Tom McLaren! You kick K2’s ass and you come back to me!" He wound his arms around you again and lifted you from the floor "I'm coming back, Y/N... I don't get to marry you otherwise..." "Just. Make sure Vaughn knows who's boss." He gave a wink, and salute as he set you down; "Yes ma'm!"

 *** 

You were still staring at the pictures on the wall when the sunlight faded; one more day gone. One day closer to marrying the love of your life. But one day further away from all these incredible things happening. All of these pictures captured moments you would never get back. And each one of them told a story with so many lost great conversations. Little glances or touches that were now lost to eternity.

Your eyes flicked between them all, this has all gone so fast... Even though he would be back soon, that would feel like an age. But all these years had passed like a blur. Would your married life be just the same?

You sat back for a second and took a deep breath to slow it all down. You hoped not; Tom was someone you had to savour every moment with - because in reality there were so few. And that made every second precious. You realised how much you wanted to look back on everything you'd done together and remember it all. No matter how impossible. It hit you all very suddenly. Is that why he recorded everything? So that he could watch back every memory you had a freeze frame moment of here? Because Tom McLaren wanted to relive every stupid, amazing thing that happened. As long as you were there in it. You shook your head gently as you pieced it all together; why he wanted your tapes so bad too. He was about to relive all those moments with you. But not just with you - Tom McLaren wanted everyone else to see those moments too. Everyone that was an important part of your lives and an integral part of your relationship.

And he was going to do so on your wedding day.

---

Oh have another GIF even though it’s not actually Tom... It still make’s me think of this fic..! Like he would 100% throw paper planes at her whilst she’s trying to work on collages and their wedding planning...

[ancientbooshartifacts]

Galaxies Apart

Author: Natawie

Year: 2009

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Sunflash/Future Man

Future Man watched the silver egg as it opened out with a woosh of smoke and a handful of glitter. Out stepped a lady-boy, dressed in gold, gold boots, short gold skirt, gold chest armour with a sun embossed on it. On his shoulderblades he had 2 huge wings, almost touching the floor. The lady-boy stood with hands on hips. Future Man spoke up. "Who are you?" The golden lady-boy looked at him, his head moving quite robotically, he looked in the opposite direction and then back at Future Man. "I am... Sunflaaaaaaash." He introduced, dragging his name out longer than needed. "I am from... Da fooochaaaaaaa." "We all are." Future Man said simply, nodding as he said it. Sunflash looked at him, and did not once blink. "Oh rellaaaaay? I beg to diffaaaaaah." "I'm from the future. I'm here. I'm in it. I'm the last person on earth.. Well, me and Melinda." "Melindaaaaaaaaa?" "My girlfriend." "Girlfrieeeend?" Sunflash laughed, his laughter was high pitched and childish. He stopped suddenly and his face was again straight. "Why are you talking like that?" "It is how everybody talk in da foochaaaa." "I dont." "It a mix of chinese and chav... I call it.. Chavese. Your fooocha is bleak and dull. Where is da glitteeeeer?" "There is no glitter." "Where are the mirrors?" "No mirrors." "Where are the unicorns dat take you arouuund camden tooooown?" "Camden town? What is Camden town?" "Camden is my home planeeeeeet." Future Man was starting to become mesmerised by Sunflash, how he was the only ray of light amongst the rubble and ash. "Where is it?" "2 galaxies ah-THAT WAAAAY." He shouted unexpectedly, his voice still high, as he pointed North in the sky. "Really?" Future Man questioned. "Oh yah." Sunflash looked back at him. "Do not question da chosen one." "Sunflash?" "Yaaaaaah?" "Will you take me to your future?" Sunflash looked at him. "BOOBALAAAAAAAY!" He called. Future Man's eyes darted, in  confusion. "Oh BOOBALAAAAAAAAAY!" A second figure appeared from the silver egg. A robot. "I am Booblay." He said in a happy-go-lucky metallic robotic voice. "How may I pleasure you?" Future Man's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Boobalay." Sunflash said. "Foocha Man wants to come to our planet. Make room for him on da ship." "Oh-kay." With a click of metal joints, Booblay dissappeared back into the egg. Sunflash moved his head robotically to look at Future Man again. "Ah like yooooou." Future Man swallowed. "Thank you." Sunflash winked, and with a wave of his hand and an authentic electro synth sound, they were in the ship. Inside the egg everything was silver and pink and red. Beads hung from the top and the floor was mirrored, the faint sound of Kiss played in the background as strobe lights reflected off glitter balls. "Nice place." Future Man said. "I used to know a guy, he'd like this." Sunflash looked at him. "Oh rellaaaaaaaaaay? I'd like to meet him and his vision of Glam Rock leadershiiiiip." "No, you cant. I'm the last human on earth, remember." "Oh yaah. You mentioned." Future Man couldnt help but notice how Sunflash hardly blinked. He was questioning his existance. What was he? Was he human? "Forgive me.. But what exactly are you?" "I am... Sunflaaaaash." "Yeah, I got that, but what are you? Are you alien? A robot? What?" "I am from... Da foooochaaaaa." "Why've you got wings?" "All the great leaders have wings." Booblay shuffled over. "I am sensing some tension, would you like me to cup and/or fondle your balls?" Future Man shifted akwardly. "No thank you Sir." Sunflash smiled. "Ah-kaaaaaay." Booblay put his metallic hand up Sunflash's skirt. Future Man looked away embarrassed. Sunflash held out his hand. "It okay if you like to waaatch." "No I dont thank you." "Hol' my haaand." Future Man's eyes skipped past Booblay and went straight ti Sunflash's face. "Why?" Sunflash nodded. Future Man took hold of Sunflash's warm hand. His eyes snapped shut and he heard Sunflash's voice echo in his head. 'Can you take this lipstick and lightplay and carry it miles away?' Sunflash cocked his head. 'Can you picture this coming from my lips? If I whisper from-' His voice was heard, but his lips were not moving. Future Man pulled his hand away. "How did you do that?" "I am from da fooochaaaaa." Sunflash explained. Sunflash let out a short high pitched sqeel. Booblay stood up right. "Orgasm reached." He held out his hand, in it was, what Future Man guessed to be Sunflash's cum. Which was essentially a pile of glitter glue. Sunflash waved his hand above it and in a cloud of purple smoke the glitter glue transformed into sequns and scattered across the floor. "All done." He said chidishly, before letting out one of his high pitched laughs, his face straightening moments later once again. "We have arrived." The voice of the egg said. Future Man looked around. "We didnt move did we?" "Yeeeeese. To another Galaxaaaaaaaaaay." Sunflash stepped out of the ship. Several figures in hooded cloaks hurried to his feet. "Our master returns!" A few said. "Oh chosen one. What journeys thy must have travelled. Rest thy weary bones oh great one." Sunflash cocked his head in Future Man's direction. "You may find love here.. But first of all these clothes will not do at aaaaall." Sunflash waved his hand and with a spark of light and an authentic Electro synth sound, Future Man's potato sack rags were transformed into a silver mini skirt and matching halter top. Sunflash smiled. "Someones fabulooooouuuuuus." "This is rediculous." Future Man hissed. "I cant wear this." The hooded figures gasped as 2 or 3 feathers fell from Sunflash's wings, and Sunflash stumbled backwards though he had been shot. "Dis is da vision of a glam rock fooochaaa. You will wear dis outfit.. I's a good one." "You have hurt our leader." One of the hooded figures said, in a throaty voice. "You will die." "Get off me!" Future Man hissed, breaking free. "Who are you?" "We dont know what we are." A second figure piped up. "Are we James Mason?" "He has not shaved." "All the best men shave twice a day." They chanted. "All the best men shave twice a day! All the best men shave twice a day!" "Sileeeeeeence." Sunflash's voice echoed around the room, he slipped his hand in Future Man's. "Come. I'm show you 'round." A huge metallic door opened, and Future Man was blinded by the light. "Boobalay. Off." Sunflash said simply. Booblay cupped his breasts in his hands and switched himself off. Sunflash lead Future Man out of the huge metallic doors, they slammed shut behind them and the light faded. Future Man opened his eyes, everything was purple and red. Silver and gold. It was all a bit glam rock. Future Man didnt much care for glam rock, but it was impressive none the less. Sunflash looked back at him sadly. "You can't stay long." "Why not?" "Sunflaaaaash is not supposed to bring people from one dimention to anotheeeeeeer." Sunflash ran his finger across Future Man's wrist. "I must admit." Future Man said. "I'm lost in loveliness. I cant resist distant beauty." Sunflash pulled back. "What about Melindaaaaaa?" "She's just a shop mannequin." Sunflash looked at him. "Can you spare a kiss?" * "Goodbye Foochaaaa Maaaan. I will miss you." Future Man nodded. "From this distance, Sunflash, your beauty burns brightly." "We will meet agaaaaaain." "But we live galaxies apart." Sunflash looked up at him, feathers on his wings slowly fluttering off in the cold wind. "Find me.. If you find a way." "I'll walk until the sky meets the sea if I have to." Sunflash blew him a kiss as he stepped back into his egg. "Thank you." Future Man called. He turned around and saw Melinda staring coldly at him. "What?" He asked. We're just good friends.." She stared. "I know you wanted me to put that shelf up, I'll do it now." She stared. "Alright, I'll do it after you've watched Countdown!" Future Man picked her up and they walked home, with a strange sense of sunshine in the bleak fog, and a twist of glitter, swirled with the wind.

[winxwannabe]

13, Bloom x Jim

Ha, this is waaaay longer than a drabble.  Oops.Of course Neverland and the Queen leave Bloom with nightmares.

Jim should’ve known, really.  When the name Neverland faded from memory it was called the World of Dreams.  And leaving someone so evil to control it for so long was bound to snuff out any light.  But the way Bloom had walked out of the battle against the Queen - a battle she had won - radiating that confidence….well, Jim hoped he’d be proven wrong.

He wasn’t, though.  Because fuck Tinkerbell and her charred, shell of a heart.

“Everyone’s suffering,”  That’s what Bloom says when he goes to talk to her the first time.  She’s finished filming for her...reality show (Jim doesn’t remember what it’s called), wearing more makeup than he’s ever seen on her, and it’s startling how unlike herself she looks.  “I think it must come with the territory of being there for so long.”

“Or forced to give up a part of yourself for the Queen’s gain.”

A look comes into Bloom’s eyes that’s gone before he can identify it.  “I think all that can cure it is time.  And the sleeping magic Flora’s whipped up for some of them to use.”

Flora, as it turns out, is very good at whipping things together.  Including dinner, which Jim is invited to.

He goes to be polite, and stays far longer than anticipated.  And it’s when the stars first start to twinkle as he sits on the balcony drinking wine with Aisha and Tecna, that he hears her scream.

Jim is inside faster than they are.  Bloom is on the couch, gripping the back tightly in one hand.  The other is holding a blaze of fire that’s starting to melt a class on the table.  Her eyes are wide, looking everywhere and registering nothing.

“Oh God no let me out please I-”

Before she can finish Flora is behind her, throwing some sort of magic on her.  The fire winks out of Bloom’s hand and she collapses back on the couch, asleep.

The silence is starling after the screams, and now with an extra layer of awkwardness.  All five girls stare at him, waiting for some kind of reaction.  All he can come up with is: “Is that a usual occurrence when she tries to sleep?”

“Not always that bad.” Stella finally says.  “And usually never when she naps like that.”

In that moment, Jim makes the decision to be a regular house guest.

At first it seems like every step he and Bloom took forward in their relationship is negated.  In fact, she nearly throws him out of the apartment when he shows up again to make sure she doesn’t burn it down in her sleep.  It’s only at the girl’s urging that she finally - albeit unhappily - relents.

Jim’s marching orders are clear: calm Bloom down if she wakes up, use the dust to knock her out only if she’s a threat to herself.  Don’t get too close in case she isn’t fully out of the dreamscape.  Get anything wrong and he’ll be killed.  Painfully.

He does his best.  If Bloom does manage to sleep, it’s only for a few hours.  The rest of the time she lies awake, staring at the ceiling or making doodles in the air with magic.  Jim isn’t there every day, but when he is it seems like Bloom negates even pretending to sleep.  They talk - about books, magic, past adventures - everything until the sky outside turns pink.  Their reality show has stopped filming, which is good because it means Bloom doesn’t try to hide the dark circles under her eyes with makeup.

They take steps forward again.  Jim plays nice with the various people that drop by to indulge in Flora’s cooking (sometime Flora and Vincenzo, an almost-kidnapped talent that starts coming by almost as often as Jim does).  They thank everyone profusely, and happily report most of the negative effects of the World of Dreams have disappeared entirely.

Bloom grins at them and says what great news it is, then drinks more when she thinks no one’s looking.

Jim sees Bloom do things a lot when she thinks no one’s looking.  He’s always looking now.

“You need to try something else besides pixie dust,” he says to Flora one night.  “I don’t know how your magic works, but people normally build a resistance.”

“She’s our friend.  We can handle it.”

“Can you?”

Flora’s eyes narrow at him.  “I don’t see you coming up with any other ideas.”

She takes the wine bottle and leaves him alone in the kitchen.

Bloom looks at him like he’s grown a second head when he tells her to move over.

“C’mon, I’m sick of missing shut eye half the week.”

“You aren’t here half the week,” she points out, but still moves over on the bed.  It’s hideously pink, but soft like a cloud.

“Why,” Bloom asks after a minute, “do you think this affected me so differently?  The World of Dreams, I mean.”

“Because you were the strongest person the Queen took.”

Bloom chuckles.  “Seriously.”

“I am serious.  It wasn’t your voice or how to land a kick.  It was your magic, an integral part of your body and mind.”

She sighs, and the defeat in it surprises him.  “She’s still out there.  What if she takes it again?”

“Then we fight her to get it back.”

“While what, I stand useless on the sidelines? What am I without my powers, Jim?”

“The strongest woman I’ve ever met.”  The response comes so easily to him Jim doesn’t realize the implication until the words are out of his mouth.  He grips the bedspread and shuts his eyes tightly.  “Sorry.  Sorry I -”

“No,” Bloom cuts him off.  Her voice sounds strange.  “No, it’s okay.”

In that moment he believes her, and they lie together in silence until Jim falls asleep.

The feeling of magic charging around brings him to edge of consciousness.  Bloom’s scream pulls him the rest of the way.

Nothing’s on fire this time, but Bloom’s thrashing next to him, trying to push against something that isn’t there.  “Let me go!”

Jim looks back to the nightstand for the powder, but realizes it isn’t there.

“Please!”

He reaches out, rules be damned, and shakes her shoulder.  “Bloom -”

She reaches out and hits him, thankfully sans magic.  “I just want to go home - I’ll do anything you want please.”

Jim throws the covers off - he doesn’t remember when he got under them - and goes for the door, ready to get on his hands and knees in front of Flora if it grants him her help, when Bloom’s yells stop him in his tracks.

“Help me!  Anyone - Jim!  Are you out there? Can you hear me?”

And that is the moment in which the ground rules went out the window.

He goes back to the bed and takes both of Bloom’s shoulders, pulling her into a sitting position.  “Bloom.  Bloom!”

Her eyes snap open, that same unregistered stare as she looks frantically around the room.  “I -”

“Bloom!  Bloom, look at me, listen to me!”

By some miracle, it works.  Her head snaps in the direction of his voice, and when she blinks her eyes focus on him, directly.  “J-Jim?” she asks, a whisper instead of a shout.  Her chin wobbles.

He yanks her into his arms before she can say anything else.  “It’s alright,” he says into Bloom’s hair.  “It’s over.”

Her shoulders shake against him and he hears her start to cry.  It makes him hold her tighter.

“She won’t get near you again, I swear Bloom.  I won’t let anyone hurt you, you’re safe with me.”

Her arms go around his neck, nearly squeezing the air out of him.

He holds her until she stops crying.  He holds her for a long time after until his eyelids feel like lead weights.  And he only dares close them when the girl in his arms is asleep again.

It is not an immediate cure.  But as the weeks go by the nightmares, bloodshot eyes, and the dark under-eye circles become less frequent.

Jim becomes more frequent.  

No one says a word about it.

Let’s play “guess which prompt fit with a fic idea i’ve had for a while and finally made me write it.”  It’s a super easy game.  Also other person who requested this number don’t worry, I got it

I’m celebrating 750 followers! Send a number and a character/couple/idk friends? threesome? for a drabble!

[scarlettlawyer]

Part 10 of my reaction/commentary to the Phantoms & Mirages fanfic series by @renegadewangs

(Chasing Phantoms): Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

(Haunted Specters): Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

(Vanquishing Mirages): Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

So moving forward, as I continued to read on, there was a backdrop of salt, apathy & hurt overshadowing everything as established in the previous post. But I was still reading on because “might as well see what happens I guess”. Starting Vanquishing Mirages chapter 20, I was also nervous & intrigued. Nervous about how the narrative was going to go about this and what the result was going to be… So I read on kind of with bated breath.

And it just remains in that interesting stage for a little while, the uncertainty stage where I don’t really know where it’s gonna go, for those first few paragraphs, as I’m waiting and reading on to see how it turns out… and then it takes a downturn when the negative emotions just start POURING in tsunami style and everything just starts crashing down horribly. I go quickly from nervous/intrigued to kind of horrified as it strikes me just. How. Traumatic and overwhelming the entire experience would be for someone who has never really had to deal with emotions of much severity their entire life. I’m just oh no… oh no…….. oh nooooo….. I didn’t foresee this at all, so distracted by so many things up until this point, and yet it makes perfect sense. But it was a real punch huh. This was awful, what a disaster. This was not good… Which is basically what Simon says:

What a mess. What a complete, total and utter mess. […] Perhaps this was punishment for playing god. Perhaps they’d flown too close to the sun. Perhaps they were Frankenstein, responsible for giving birth to a failed creation.

Me:

[hides away in a corner because I think we broke him lads]

Vanquishing Mirages, Chapter 21

The Phantom blinked, shedding a few more tears as he did so. Perhaps he hadn’t quite processed Simon’s words. Perhaps he hadn’t quite processed the situation in general. He swallowed and sniffed, then tilted his head backwards.

Am I meant to be picturing this in anything less than stunningly beautiful and fluid animation? Because I am not picturing this in anything less than gorgeously rendered animation.

Whatever it was that’d held Bobby back from touching the Phantom before, it was gone now. He placed a hand atop the Phantom’s clenched fist, hoping it might soothe him. “Whoah, it’s okay. It’s fine.” “It’s not fine! How dare you claim that it’s fine?! YOU did this to me!”

AAAAAAND WE’RE BACK LADIESANDGENTLEMAN HELLO THERE NARRATIVE FRAMING OF HIM AS A CHILD: ACTIVATE

HELLO! this is exciting and new!

“Calm yourself.” “I can’t! I CAN’T!”

He really wouldn’t know how to or be able to!

AND THEN AT THIS POINT IT JUST HIT ME

THIS MAKES PERFECT SENSE

HE ACTUALLY WOULD HAVE THE EMOTIONAL MATURITY OF A CHILD BECAUSE HE’S NEVER HAD THE OPPORTUNITY TO MATURE EMOTIONALLY, DUH, CAUSE HE LACKED EMOTIONS SO MUCH, THIS IS BRAND NEW TO HIM H

Narrative framing of him as a child during Haunted Specters REALLY paying off even more right now! We’ve already reaped so much from those seeds. But now! Oh boy!

“We would not honor such a request even if it were within our capabilities. Congratulations, Phantom. You are now free to tussle with emotions just like every other human.”

MY FEELINGS/REACTION TOWARDS THIS WHOLE SITUATION CHANGED SO FAST IT WAS LIKE:

“Oh noooo… this is so awful and terrible for him this is too much I can’t handle th… W-wait. Phphhw. Heh. Hah. HahahaHAHAHA MUAHAHA YEEEES ONE OF US ONE OF US DEEEEEEEAL WITH IT HAHAHA SUCKERRRRRRRR!”

The Phantom’s wide eyes followed Fulbright out the room. Apparently, his departure served to rile the man up even further. “Get back here! Bobby Fulbright! You get back here and end my suffering RIGHT NOW!”

This is just so good this is just so good hohoooh!

The Phantom sniffed and huffed. Flinched and scrunched his eyes shut, his breathing turning to more helpless sobs. Tears continued to run down the side of his face, disappearing into locks of hair just above his ears.

Hey yeah just saying it again. This is nothing but pure unadulterated animation mode for me. With REALLY GOOD animation. A really gorgeous 2D anime style.

Simon hesitated for a moment, then placed a careful hand atop the Phantom’s closed eyes. They felt soggy and unpleasant to touch. “Focus on the sound of my voice and nothing else. Focus on my voice and breathe.”

IT’S WEIRD CAUSE LIKE. I HAD VERY FRESH PHANTOMQUILL WOUNDS AT THIS POINT OF READING BUT. Right up until The Kiss prior to the surgery I had been very firmly in the parental-child dynamic mindset camp and thoroughly enjoying myself. It was the kiss and stuff that I found jarring at first BECAUSE of that before getting up and moving over to phantomquill mode, only for it to turn out to be fake phantomquill. You’d think it might actually be hard for me to go back to “Oh the phantom is a child and Bobby and Simon are his parents” after the phantomquill fiasco but in terms of mindset, it really wasn’t difficult because I’d only been in Phantomquill mode comparatively VERY briefly before it got destroyed. I was already thoroughly versed in the ways of the parent-child dynamic heh and had spent waaaay longer enjoying that lens. Being so used to it, it was easy enough to switch back over to it.

Do NOT get me wrong, I was still VERY upset over it, yet somehow I could still deeply enjoy the familial dynamic between Simon and the phantom in this moment.

So I basically was still grumbling angrily about phantomquill under my breath while somehow simultaneously excitedly going “OMG SUPPORTIVE DAD SIMON!!!”

Me: yeah. Yeah. You’re really just Piling On that family dynamic after that huge mess with the kiss and the baiting??? Just showing me blatantly to my face how wrong I was to ever read romance into anything? You have the gall to?

Also me: …I still love the parent-child dynamics from this series so FIIINE I do appreciate this scene. I appreciate it a lot, actually. HMPH

Talk about being of a conflicted mind. But there’ll be more mention of that to come.

…Oh, and yeah, I have still been referring to him as the phantom, haven’t I? Well that’s simple: it’s what the narrative is still calling him, so I continue to call him by that title until it is dropped by the narrative itself

Besiiides, for all intents and purposes, during this small gap of time until it changes, he is NOT quite Lex yet, because he has not yet accepted the name and nor has the narrative itself.

So we get this awesome little window which is just, he’s still “the phantom” if that’s the only title we have before “Lex” is accepted and taken on. Pure, unfiltered “Phantom” + Emotion and it’s sooo special. Which… yes… Phantom + Emotions = becomes Lex but… argh, it gets confusing very quickly for me. :P

The question seemed to startle the Phantom for some reason. … No, not the Phantom. It was Lex, now. That notion still felt foreign. Perhaps Alexander would be more suitable. More formal. Less personal.

I WAS SOOO THANKFUL FOR THIS ON FIRST READTHROUGH. I was thankful for how jarring Simon was finding it too (because in that respect he certainly wasn’t alone lol – I wasn’t alone). I was thankful that the narrative hadn’t immediately switched over to saying “Lex” after he woke up from surgery. Oh, and I’d even been thankful waaay back when his name being Alexander Luster Jr was first revealed that the narrative switch hadn’t been made then either. I mean, it wasn’t for OBVIOUS reasons but like… Technically that’s his name. So the narrative could have tried making an attempt at it and I was just glad he was still always “the Phantom” even when we knew what his name was when he was born. Cause he sure as hell didn’t accept the name back then.

But I was SUPER thankful for Simon deciding to call him “Alexander” too. It was kind of a real godsend BECAUSE LIKE. The name “Lex” was so heavily entrenched and still attached in my mind to that super mean bald dude that got killed off. It was a name that therefore felt “ugly” that had been attached to a man with an “ugly” personality. And whoever this man was that woke up from the surgery, it sure as HELL didn’t feel like his name. I was kinda like “buddy. If you want me to start calling this character “Lex” you’ve got another thing coming.” So having “Alexander” instead was a relief that helped A LOT at the time lol. It was sooo much easier to switch to. And Simon going for the more formal variant is such a Simon thing to do anyway. XD

Also???? Alexander… Alexander Luster… felt like such a pretty name actually???? BUT I MEAN. I am the first to admit that I am probably extremely biased on that front. And that I’d probably just. End up thinking just about any name applied to him was “pretty”. LOL.

But yeaaahhh although I kinda had a hard time with the “Lex” business at first, after a little bit of time it became easy to accept, as it usually goes with these things. Now I’ve got 0 problems with it. Lex is Lex!

“That makes you nothing more than an ungrateful child,” Simon grumbled, finally stepping away from the window to take his own seat.

Every time the narrative makes a DIRECT reference or draws a DIRECT parallel to him being a child it feels like it adds another 3 years to my lifespan.

“Ahahahah! I-I c-can’t! Hahahahah! Ahahahahah! Irony!~”

…

MEOWZY. YOU. YOU. DID THIS. YOU MADE THE CONSCIOUS DECISION TO PUT A TILDE THERE. H.

I.

TH

You did that. You did that on purpose. What did you doooooo. What’s HAPPENING

I can’t… I… just needed to point this out and take you to task over it. GOSH

The i-intent… the intent of this in the narrative

As if to say,

Look… Look at how… endearing

As if to say,

“Yes, you not only can, but SHOULD find this endearing”…………

Ohooooh it’s too much IT’S.

It’s death by tilde is what it is. You didn’t. Need to. You could have just left the words and such as it was. But you threw it in, intentionally showing off how we’re supposed to take this just in case there’s any mistake.

You’re under arrest.

Vanquishing Mirages, Chapter 22: Epilogue

Still, as he raised the headphones to his ear, he heard enough. It was indeed playing music- and what horrid music it was. “-When skies are grey. You’ll never know dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away.” “Where the devil did you get this?” he demanded, virtually throwing it into Alexander’s lap.

BRO THIS IS SO UNREAL.

The sheer image of the (former) phantom listening to music was so wild and then it jUST

Alexander’s fingers began to play with the headphones, twirling them around in his hands as he spoke. “You know, it’s funny. I’ve listened to music before, but it’s like I’ve never really heard it. …Does that make sense?”

OH MY GOOOOOSH. THIS REALISATION HIT ME LIKE A TRUCK. THIS HAD NOT OCCURRED TO ME… AT ALL! BUT IT’S SO…! :D HE CAN LISTEN TO AND ENJOY MUSIC NOW. Get immersed in it. That was the most fantastic realisation to me. No, you don’t understaaaand, you see, as a child, getting immersed in listening to music was so central to me that as a kid I’d come up with a bunch of story ideas involving things like other planets/alien creatures that would revolve their entire society around music, or alien creatures that have no concept of music and get introduced to it and subsequently immersed in it for the first time. This just hit so close to hoooome, oh my goodness, I hadn’t remembered or thought about those memories/story ideas that kid me had for maybe a good ten years, and this fic suddenly reminded me with the headphones business. It’s really not related to the fic to mention but I’d looong forgotten about all those scenarios I’d thought about and it was so cool to be reminded. :’D

BUT ANYWAY BACK TO THE FIC-

Me like three chapters ago: WAAAAH, NOTHING THIS SERIES COULD EVER DO COULD EVER MAKE ME HAPPY AGAIN!

Me reading this chapter not too long afterwards: HMMM OKAY I AM KIND OF VERY HAPPY RIGHT NOW.

Oh and it just occurred to me: my guess is the person who “overslept her own execution” was Cammy Meele!

And now, I’m gonna start talking about Lifting Spirits! But at least just for this post, I’m gonna change things up a little and not segment my comments chapter-wise or comment on little things, but rather talk about stuff pertaining to the earlier parts of the fic as a whole. This is necessary because my thoughts were an unbelievable mess and were so terribly bunched together – that is, thanks to reading through it relatively fast, I guess everything got kind of mixed together, so individual reactions to individual parts of it are a little less well-“defined” than was the case with the prior fics at the point of reading.

...I don't know if I could ever do Lifting Spirits justice. I CERTAINLY don't do it justice in this post. Believe me, I want nothing more than to just sit down and gush endlessly about it because that's what it warrants, but for the time being this post seems to be too busy trying to outline just how much my own disposition threatened to botch and ruin it for myself. XD 

But it will get better in future review posts, I promise!

Yeah, my thoughts were a contradictory, convoluted, conflicting mess. There was SO much going on at once for me with regards to how I was responding to the text on first readthrough. It’s hard to know even where to begin. So let’s try and tackle some things in Lifting Spirits:

1 - The Transition from The Phantom to Lex

…It does such a number on my brain on multiple levels. XD. IT MESSES WITH ME SO MUCH, it’s a straightforward concept enough in theory but my brain overloads and threatens to shut down when I try to wrap my head around it. XD

I love the phantom, so my instinctive bias at first was to try and cling to the label of “the phantom” as long as I could until it’s finally surrendered.

So, I’ve said already that I was kinda nervous about how this transition was gonna be pulled off. There’s always SORT OF a risk involved when going ahead and giving the phantom an identity and making them no longer the phantom – it kind of wanders straight into the Original Character zone. This New Character who used to be the phantom, in such cases, does get a bit of a complimentary “boost” of my investment in them by virtue of having been the phantom, but beyond that, the new character in the phantom’s place must learn to pull their own weight in the story. They cannot purely rely on having been the phantom – they must develop on their own and give the audience due reason to be invested in the new character. And/or, they must still have some ties connecting them back to having been the phantom too, even with their new characterisation and personality.

So yeah, I had literally no reason to be even remotely nervous. Lex is fantastic. And can very VERY easily stand up in the narrative on his own accord. Not only that, but it’s just… genius… the extremity of his emotions is, ironically, the very thing that connects him back to having been the emotionless phantom…! Because it drives home repeatedly that he really has had NO experience with this level of feeling due to his past. It’s a total pendulum swing to the other end of the spectrum and I love it SO damn much.

Regardless of whether he’s Lex or the phantom, he’s still my favourite character.

1.1 – The phantom as Lex/the phantom becoming Lex

Man, this fic.

I swear to god.

I keep trying to type out my thoughts and it’s so hard to be coherent about it.

Lex is… “the (former) phantom”. So I’ll use this phrasing to really drive the point home. Because such a huge amount of what happens, of what’s going on… derives its impact from this very important fact. From the unbelievable contrast. The seeming absurdity of EVERYTHING given who he was.

The former phantom laughs at stupid jokes, gets given a stash of sweets and a Jokes & Riddles book thanks to Bobby, gets goofily absorbed in a phone game………… The list just goes on.

You are doing this. You are making me read all this stuff involving the former phantom with my own two eyes, I… I…… This flippin’ portrayal. Almost feels like it should be illegal xDDDD

1.1a - YOU ARE WHAT IS KNOWN AS AN ENABLER

I have been… a fan of the character known as the phantom for many years now… I started playing through the Ace Attorney games in December 2014, and played Dual Destinies in the first half of 2015. I’ve had years to jokingly talk about the phantom ironically in an “awwww just look at them, awwww how innocent/”cute”” way, obviously knowing damn well they’re not.

And I basically went into Chasing Phantoms with, on some level, an attitude of “haha you can TRY to make me hate the phantom, I know you will, but I won’t let you”

Big mistake, to head into this series stubbornly guarding a totally opposite area of phantom perception compared to what I SHOULD have been guarding against.

And then you just

Came along and took the character

And did this.

It was fine at first in like, Haunted Specters and then Vanquishing Mirages. It was a big joke that everyone was in on. It was a joke and it was funny and I was laughing along with it. Albeit. An evolving joke.

And then Lifting Spirits just

It jUST

All of a sudden I had to be like wait a minute. I was just like whoa, whoa. Hold up. You can’t – WAIT a minute. No WAIT

I walked into this trap with no defences prepared. I’d walked into this series going “I’d like to see you try and make me truly hate this man, but it won’t work, I’ll make sure it doesn’t work out of spite” and now all of a sudden this was all happening at once and I had to suddenly try and backpedal dramatically out of the trap and be like wait wait wait no this is, this is, he was?? A bad guy was he not? Wait what are we-

The scales were tipping too far for my liking – too far in a direction I was ALREADY biased and predisposed towards and I wanted to stop it but what defence did I haaave

It’s like the narrative was poking me and going “Hey. So. Your favourite character. He’s pretty great, right? Right?” and I’d shake my head and try my best to go, “No… No! He isn’t – this isn’t right! What! There has to be some kind of mistake! This is a thirty-seven year old man who has killed people WHAT IS GOING ON”

And this is also, at the same time, set against a backdrop of me still stubbornly trying to cling to a mindset of not wanting this man to be able to cheat death or the finality of execution.

So here’s the first of many contradictory feelings I was having at once:

“This man must be punished and therefore I can’t abide by such a lighthearted portrayal” vs “I love this man so much and every single moment of this lighthearted portrayal is GOLD and I love it sooo much”

2- The Phantom VS Lex

The portrayal of my favourite character was making me rather pleased, but it felt way too good to be true on three different fronts. Firstly, the amusing absurdity in and of itself made it hard to process this was Really Happening, the levels of it feeling “unreal” were so much and I was so stunned and I was sincerely struggling to process it at first. Secondly, it just felt so catered to me (LOL) and “too good to be true” that I felt like. Like. The narrative surely couldn’t be doing something so great. A similar kind of inability to believe this was “really happening” which had cropped up during Haunted Specters. And this was heavily fuelled by, THREE… My pesky little reactions to our old friend, Fake Phantomquill.

The hurt that I was feeling over the phantomquill unfortunately seeped into and tainted my perception of other parts of the story and caused me to get irrationally defensive in many respects at the time. See, as I’ve implied, part of what was so very appealing to me about Legit one-sided phantomquill coming to fruition just before the surgery is that it felt like the final step in taking the phantom further down from his pedestal and that much closer to “joining the ranks of humanity” just in time for surgery that would have “the phantom” cease to be altogether and allow him to make the full transformation. It wasn’t so much about phantomquill itself as it was about the notion of the phantom being attracted to someone and causing such a big, stupid mess as a result, of being a fundamentally flawed human being but flawed in a vulnerable-

who claimed to be made of nothing but pure logic only to, in his final moments as the phantom act in the most illogical-

It’s silly, I know. First of all, if anything, it can be kind of arophobic, depending on how it’s done, to use “attraction to another person” as a proof or demonstration of a character’s core humanity. It’s just… That’s what I’d tricked myself into thinking the set-up was for, I guess. So when the set-up got so thoroughly negated and didn’t come to fruition, it felt like it had intentionally done the opposite with a bait and switch, and that instead of showing that even the phantom can fall from his pedestal in his final moments before “the phantom” ceases to be, it then seemed the goal was to demonstrate with a great sense of finality that actually, he is despicable and will never be anything but despicable and that we never should have expected anything more up until the very end.

Except… it was silly of me to feel like this first of all seeing as the phantom had already demonstrated during the narrative plenty that he very much does have the capacity to care about other people in his own very odd way. He DID go through character development. Just because none of the feelings he demonstrated were based on attraction doesn’t diminish what he did demonstrate. The Fake Phantomquill Kiss in and of itself is proof of caring because he was ultimately trying to protect Bobby.

But at the time it was hard for me to see that through my hurt. It’s an irrational perspective to take but I wasn’t being rational because of that hurt, and I was distrusting as a result. So, strangely enough, the phantom “dying” as the “filthy criminal he is” after the little show he put on, and then becoming Lex and waking up from the surgery with all these emotions kinda felt to me almost like it was throwing “the phantom” and all the progress as a character he’d made under the bus – of all the potential he’d shown prior to surgical interference.

There was just so much emphasis in the narrative on separating “the phantom” from “Lex” which was fair enough, but it felt to my irrational wounded self like “the phantom” was suddenly being characterised as “Pure Evil” in order to further the ends to which Lex could then be set up as “good”, when we’d previously spent around 2 fics delving into how, while the phantom is very much a villain and none of his crimes can be negated, there is more to him, and he’s, at the very least, not Evil 24/7. Almost like “the phantom” and “Lex” were being pitted against each other which I realise is stupid because c’mon, how can Lex as a character throw the phantom under the bus when Lex was the phantom? When he is merely another huge step – leap – in the character’s evolution? The transformation into Lex can’t negate any of the character development HE made prior to that point, prior to the surgery.

Another important thing to note, which I am extremely grateful to the narrative for, is that Bobby cared about the phantom not only before the surgery, but before the bone sliver was even discovered in the first place. And Simon had also been slipping back then, although he was not nearly as far-gone as Bobby was. But such a thing really helps acknowledge the phantom as a character… and does help reiterate that he wasn’t completely worthless and/or “not worthy of anything” prior to becoming Lex.

I did come to realise that I was, in fact, just needlessly worrying over pure semantics and that there was no point in doing such a thing. Regardless of how one might construe it, this man, Lex, was the same person in the sense that he has all the same memories. There is still a continuity of existence. The "death" of the phantom was only the death of the label itself, the mindset, but the man who had carried the title had still lived on. It allowed, helped that man to shed the worst of what had been part of him before and opened up so much for him.

It's just, the notion of a character actively striving to be good and overcoming themselves vs a sudden fix that gets externally applied, and it felt like any previous striving, however miniscule, threatened to be rendered obsolete by it.

But this was a misplaced notion of mine if there ever was one because not only does it not override previous character development, but the previous character development was necessary for not only making the surgery and its outcome possible, but also a crucial part of the character's arc that can't be overlooked narratively speaking. It is not Lex that characters like Bobby and Athena abruptly start believing in. They'd already believed in him before he was Lex, and they are who campaign for the surgery in the first place. And it is the phantom himself to give the final push and the go-ahead to make it happen through his consent, a vital component to it being made possible. It wasn't erasure, it was never about erasure. It was about continuity and expanding and developing on what was already there. (And I know as well as anyone that the extent of the outcome, and this progress wouldn't have been possible without some form of external interference. It was necessary.)

Whenever I did manage to reconcile it, it was just about the best thing in the world haha.

So yeah, most of this was basically me outlining my distortion of the text and then debunking myself…

I swear my opinions/thoughts/feelings had just about splintered in a million different directions mostly thanks to the shadow cast by my stupid phantomquill pain. XD. My mindset almost threatened to regress to harbouring that foolish unfounded sense that the author didn’t truly care about “the phantom”, and only cared about the person who woke up after that surgery instead. Which is nonsense because Haunted Specters & Vanquishing Mirages clearly indicate otherwise. Why bother spending two entire fics focusing on the phantom so much if the author didn’t care about the phantom? If they wanted to just do away with the phantom and replace him with someone new that they did care about, there were way shorter ways to go about it. I mean, I knew that it was the dumbest concern and that it was incorrect to even consider at this point, but that didn’t stop me from foolishly wasting time on it. It was so hard to believe & trust the story was so attuned to me after being “betrayed” that I semi-adopted/saw the more “hurtful” interpretation as the more “realistic” one.

But reading Lifting Spirits over again so far only reiterates what I realise was the case back then: I only had myself to blame, I was the one vastly exaggerating the perceived distinctions that were being made between Lex and the phantom in the text not only because of my own latent concerns but because of how personally mindboggling I was finding it.

And all the while, I’m SIMULTANEOUSLY borderline scolding the text for how seemingly soft it’s being on the (former) phantom and thinking that the author’s phantom bias is showing. Talk about doublethink!

I had been thinking this entire series that I was perfectly safe to “gush” over this man, because at least the author knew what was what, at least the author still had her senses about her and wouldn’t let it go too astray or let it get out of hand. IF THE AUTHOR IS TREATING HIM LIKE THIS AND I’M TREATING HIM LIKE THIS… THEN WHO’S DRIVING THE PLANE?!

And keep in mind too that I read through Lifting Spirits… Rather quickly. So I’ve got all of these tangled thoughts I’m trying to process at once meanwhile I’m just breezing through the chapters, not really giving myself any real chance to sort through my thoughts and untangle the messes that had formed.

I was somehow managing to feel overwhelmingly thrilled and yet hurt by the narrative at the same time. AAAAALLL the contradictory thoughts and feelings. Contrarian mode was on, it seemed, as I tried to juggle so many opinionated stances and arguments at once that cancelled each other out:

“The phantom was a human being too, with his own issues and he ALSO had (limited) feelings DON’T IGNORE THIS” vs “how dare you portray someone who used to be the phantom, a remorseless killer unworthy of a second thought, in such an endearing manner” vs “ohhhh I love this endearing portrayal so much it’s pure SUSTENANCE to me it’s so entertaining & amazing & makes me so happy” vs stubborn attempts to still cling to “make sure that execution goes ahead, this man still isn’t allowed to escape death” with a slight backdrop of that phantomquill salt-fueled apathy & denial. I was somehow now on the defensive and trying to argue that the phantom hadn’t been 100% despicable and yet also trying to retain the stance that the man in his place still needed to die because the phantom had been 100% despicable. YEP. Walking contradiction. Absolutely wild.

Oh also I just loved Lex in his own right too on top of all this, not just because he used to be the phantom. But because he’s LEX.

It’s all very confusing, I hope I didn’t confuse you too much. XD

Oh, also:

When it came to me feeling that the phantom – or rather, the person who used to be him – was being portrayed too lightly by the narrative given his history – Chasing Phantoms renders completely obsolete any possible argument about the series “skewering one’s perception of the phantom too far off-base”. It renders completely obsolete any possibility that the author was not “aware” of the true depths of his despicableness when going for this angle.

Chasing Phantoms’ existence, to me, makes Lifting Spirits all the more awesome, and strengthens its power. “The Phantom that Lex used to be was ruthless and terrible and awful and caused so much damage and destruction” is not just an offhand acknowledgement that gets referenced back to – it was portrayed firsthand in the first fic, in the series itself. It’s like it goes out of its way to drive home that undeniable fact that the phantom REALLY sucks, and yet Lifting Spirits exists anyway, even with FULL acknowledgement of that. I love that sooo much. It just straight up embraces it and doesn’t try to hide a damn thing. This was who he used to be. This is who he is now. That’s just how it is.

As already established, Chasing Phantoms felt like another universe when I read Lifting Spirits – way before then, even. It was SO hard for me to remember that, he was in fact, actually portrayed in a negative light. It’s actually really great to me that the series didn’t start with Haunted Specters – it did not seek to make the phantom sympathetic or whatnot from the start. He gets to clown around as the villain he truly is for an entire fic before any transition over to protagonist even begins to take place. The story doesn’t briefly go “yeah so we all know the phantom is bad and all obviously but…” and moves straight on, it spends a LONG time elaborating on HOW bad the phantom is back at the very start before proceeding on to anything else.

By the way, I’m aware it would be stupid to make arguments about “not knowing the full extent of how sucky the phantom is” purely on the basis of it not being demonstrated firsthand if that was the case, because like, everyone already knows, so we don’t need to be shown. But I’m merely pointing out how cool I find it that this series does demonstrate it firsthand anyway, because it just further crushes such potential arguments.

If Chasing Phantoms did not exist it would be almost easy to trick oneself into thinking that the full extent of the phantom’s villainy was not truly being acknowledged by the story, given Lex’s portrayal by the narrative (despite him being a “new person”, the fact remains that he was the phantom.) The Phantom is – was - very much a villain, and we know very clearly that the current portrayal of that man who used to be him doesn’t minimise that.

There was another big thing I wanted to talk about connected to much I’ve discussed in this post, but I’ll have to leave it for the next one! I had to cut sooo much from this I’m sorry, I actually did have a bunch of small comments from the beginning of Lifting Spirits. Well, until the next post, which will also get to the middle of the fic too. ^_^

[writinginstardust]

Fashion Emergency

Pairing: Dorian Havilliard x reader

Request: anonymous asked “ I don't know if your requests are open or not but I haven't seen anything Dorian on Tumblr so here I am!Imagine the reader being Dorian's girlfriend and him being so smitten and loving her so much and him always helping her choose dresses or read to her “

Warnings: none

A/N: I mean I hope this is what you wanted? like I kinda got waaaay carried away in my outlining for this and this is currently just part 1 of 2 but you like don’t necessarily need to read both, they stand alone pretty okay. Set pre-Throne of Glass

Word Count: 1854

*

“Help, fashion emergency!” The young woman waiting in the hall grabbed Dorian’s hand and dragged him into the hallway as soon as the door opened. His fond laugh echoed on the old stone walls of the castle as hand in hand they ran back to (Y/N)’s room a few halls away. The speed a necessity if the girl didn't want half the castle to see her in nothing but a slip and silk robe.

Fortunately for the two, there weren't many people in the halls between their rooms so she was spared the embarrassment of being seen in such a state, though the shocked and confused look on Chaol's face as they raced past was an unexpected benefit of the situation.

She leaned against the door once they'd finally stumbled over the threshold, breathing heavily from the exertion. A giggle rose in her throat at the ridiculousness of what they'd just done and as the image of Chaol's face took form in her mind again (Y/N) couldn't stop that joyful sound from escaping, followed quickly by another...and another...and another, her laughs becoming almost uncontrollable.

Dorian leaned against the wall beside her, this beautiful miracle he'd somehow managed to claim the heart of, and just watched as pure, unadulterated joy took over her expression. Watched with a smile filled with love as laughter shook her body, small laughs escaping his own lips. Completely lost in awe as he stared at her, it took a minute for (Y/N) to snap Dorian back to reality, dragging him further into her suite and to her wardrobe. The mess surrounding it caused Dorian to let out a brief chuckle, clothes were everywhere, on the floor, thrown across the bed, hung from doors and curtain rails, there was hardly an inch of space not covered in fine fabric.

“When you said you had a ‘fashion emergency’, you weren't kidding were you?”

“No, I wasn't,” she sighed, looking at the piles of clothes, “I seriously need your help, you're really good at this stuff and I'm Running out of hope that I'll find anything good enough to wear tonight.”

“(Y/N), I know for a fact that you've got stacks of beautiful gowns and you'll be perfect in any of them.”

“But I've looked through this wardrobe for over an hour now and there's...nothing. Nothing good enough at least. It's your mother's birthday celebration, the Queen's birthday celebration, I can't just wear anything.” She paused, surveying all the clothes she'd discarded earlier. “Gods, I've tried on so many dresses and none of them feel right, none of them feel worthy of this, of you. And...and I can't mess this up, this is important, it all needs to be perfect. I mean this is the first time they're all going to see us together and they're going to analyse and judge everything and none of this is good enough, I'm not good enough and... Gods I can't...I can't do this…”

Her rambling was cut off with a sharp intake of breath, she was really starting to panic about this, could feel tears forming in her eyes. She loved Dorian, would do anything for him, but she was really starting to doubt her ability to get through tonight.

As Dorian had listened and noted the rising hysteria in his love's voice, he'd moved to wrap the girl in his arms and was now gently stroking a hand up and down her spine, holding her tight, and willing the embrace to calm her nerves.

“Breathe, (Y/N), just breathe. Don't stress about this. Everything will be okay, I promise, we'll find something for you to wear and you'll look beautiful, absolutely perfect, like you always do.” The low, tender sound of his voice slowly began to ease her panic and Dorian could feel her begin to relax in his arms, tears coming to a halt and breathing evening out. “And no more talk of not being good enough. Darling, you're more than I deserve, more than anyone deserves, not one person in that court can hold a candle to you. Now,” he pulled away and pressed a light kiss to her forehead, a smile stretching his lips as he noted the embarrassed one on her face, “let’s find you something to wear.”

For a few minutes, Dorian rifled through the wardrobe, humming to himself as he assessed and compared the many options. He thought she’d look amazing in all of them but had a surprise for her, one which he’d already asked a maid to bring by around now, all he had to do was pretend to search for a little longer. He pulled out a beautiful sparkling gown and turned to where (Y/N) was sitting, knees tucked up, at the end of her bed. He held up the gown, looking between it and the girl before him as if thinking about how it would look on before gesturing questioningly at the garment.

“While I do love that dress, it’s too wintry to wear in the spring.” She sighed and looked at it longingly, wishing the party could have been even just a month earlier. Dorian merely shrugged and returned the dress, resuming his fake search.

After another couple of minutes (Y/N) fell back on the bed with a groan. “It’s hopeless.”

But before she could complain further a knock came at the door and Dorian left to open it. When he returned it was baring an armful of intricately detailed fabric which made (Y/N) gasp in wonder when she caught sight of it. As it was hung on the wardrobe door, (Y/N) found herself climbing to her feet and walking towards it as if in a trance, expression full of awe. She reached out and traced her fingers along the embroidery of the full skirt, the delicate floral patterns, the soft flowing fabric, admiring the thought and love that had so clearly been poured into the making of the dress. She finally turned away from the dress and Dorian’s breath caught in his throat as he beheld the total adoration in her eyes, mirroring that which he knew was in his own.

“You...you had this made...for me?” He merely nodded with a soft smile as she threw herself into his arms, thanking him over and over with both words and quick, joyful, kisses all over his face. He laughed through it until finally managing to capture the lips of the elated girl in his arms.

“I take it you like the dress then?” He asked when they pulled apart.

“It’s perfect Dorian, absolutely perfect. Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome. Besides,” he smirked down at her, “I can’t turn up without the best-dressed girl in the room on my arm. It would be unseemly.”

“Good to know this was done for purely selfish reasons.” The teasing was clear in her voice and Dorian didn’t bother to reply, merely dropped a quick kiss on her forehead and pulled her over to the bed. Once settled, (Y/N) curled into his side, Dorian reached over to grab a book off the nightstand, expecting some adventure story but was surprised to find something very different.

“Romance novels? Have my reading habits finally started rubbing off on you?” he teased.

“Tragically yes, and rather irritatingly I’ve been enjoying it.”

“Of course you have! You need to learn to trust my reading tastes as much as you trust my fashion sense.”

“I know that now.” She rolled her eyes at him. “So, have you read this one yet?” He looked at the cover and shook his head. “Well we can read it together, if you’d like?”

“That, my dear, is an excellent idea.”

“Go on then, read to me Prince Charming.”

 _

And so, he did. For the remainder of their free time before the ball Dorian read to her, the constant hum of his voice and the steady beat of his heart lulling her to sleep.

When (Y/N)’s soft snores met Dorian's ears he quietly set down the book and settled more comfortably onto the bed, eyes lingering on the dozing form beside him. Even in sleep, face squashed into the pillow and drooling ever so slightly, Dorian thought she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Just a couple of years ago the notion he might ever feel so strongly about another person would have seemed ridiculous, but here he was, so completely in love it almost terrified him.

Wrapping an arm over her waist, Dorian allowed himself to relax and rest a while before the evening festivities. He may have had other matters to attend to but nothing he considered important enough to actually bother doing, he'd much rather stay here with the girl he loved. So, following her example, he drifted off to sleep as well.

*

Far too soon they were both awoken again. One of (Y/N)’s maids knocked tentatively on the bedroom door and Dorian was instantly awake.

“Your Highness,” the maid executed a clumsy curtsey, taken off-guard by the Prince’s presence, “I’ve come to help Miss (Y/N) get ready…” she frowned at the girl still sleeping peacefully across the room, “if I can wake her up that is.” Dorian let out a low chuckle at that before walking back to the bed and gently shaking (Y/N) awake, the maid busying herself drawing a bath elsewhere.

(Y/N) did little more than groan in annoyance as Dorian attempted to wake her, too warm and drowsy to even think about moving.

“Wakey wakey sweetheart, you have to get up now.”

“I don’t want to, give me five more minutes...or 50…” She yawned and let her eyes drift shut again.

“I don’t think your maid is going to allow that.”

“What’s the point in dating a Prince if he won’t even get my maid to let me sleep?” She pouted almost childishly and damn him if that wasn’t the most adorable thing he’d ever witnessed.

“Well I could let you sleep but then you’d be late to the ball and I don’t thi-” he cut himself off as (Y/N)’s eyes flew open and she scrambled out of bed, pushing him towards the door to make him leave.

“Okay time to get out, go make yourself look decent and I’ll see you later.” They both laughed as she dragged him to the suite door where he paused and a mischievous smirk formed on his face.

“You know...I don’t have to go just yet. Maybe I could help you, give your lovely maid a rest. What’s first? A bath?” He winked at her and she shook her head at his joking words.

“I think we’ve got it covered, I’ll see you later.” Rising up on her toes, she kissed him sweetly, hands resting lightly on toned shoulders as she felt the ghost of his at her waist.

The door shut between them and Dorian couldn’t help the lovestruck smile as he wandered back to his own room to prepare for the ball.