#trouble kelp x holly short

[ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask]

“Am I your lockscreen?” 

“You weren’t supposed to see that.”

and/or:

"I’m too sober for this.” 

“You don’t even drink.” 

“Maybe I should start.”

(from the sentence starter list!)

Thank you for these prompts! I'm excited to go through them :D

1.

Commander Trouble Kelp dropped his head to his desk. It had been one of those days.

When he was younger, those days mostly meant running around after a particularly crafty criminal, or at most getting hit hard enough to be sent to a warlock for recovery. Now, as Commander of LEP Recon, those days were filled with bureaucratic meetings, enough technobabble from an egocentric centaur to make your ears fall off, and yet another IA review.

He missed the days where he only worried about getting squashed by a Troll.

His personal communicator buzzed beside him. He tried to ignore it. Foaly had, for some reason, decided that it would be a good idea to release his personal number to a whole slew of reporters and paparazzi. Trouble was of half a mind to slash the tech-wizard's budget in half in retaliation.

Then his communicator buzzed again, and he made up his mind.

"What's taking so long?" a bright, cheery voice cut into his introspective complaints. He lifted his head to see Commodore Holly Short, her shock of auburn hair and wide smile poked in through his office door.

In spite of it all, Trouble felt a grin cross his face. Then he dropped back down. "I'm going to kill your friend," he grumbled. "I swear. This time I'm really going to do it."

As Holly laughed and sauntered over to his side, his communicator buzzed again. "What did he do this time?" she asked, casually running a hand through his short brown hair. His comm buzzed three more times in the time it took her to ask the question.

"I'm serious," Trouble said, lifting his head to look at her. "I'm going to-" his voice cut off when he realized that she wasn't looking at him anymore. Her fingers continued to trail idly through his hair, and the grin on her face had only widened, but now she was staring intently at his comm.

"Trouble," she said, picking the device up off the desk, "am I... am I your lockscreen?"

The young commander felt his cheeks turn red. "What?" he snapped immediately, his voice defensive. "No."

Holly turned on him a look that could freeze molten rock. "You may be able to lie to a lot of people, Trubs," she said tersely, "but I was never one of them." Then she turned his communicator so that he could see it. "So I'm going to ask you again, and I expect you to be honest this time. Am I your lockscreen?"

Trouble's cheeks heated further as he stared at the offending evidence - a beautiful picture he had snapped of her on one of their days off. She was wearing something casual and laughing, her head tossed back and her auburn hair had fallen back from her forehead. It was his favorite picture of her.

"You weren't supposed to see that," he finally answered.

Holly just laughed, the ice-cold expression on her face thawing and the smile sliding back into place on her lips. She bent down to kiss his forehead. "It's time for you to come home, Commander," she whispered with a twinkle in her eye. "I'll help you get back at Foaly for whatever he did in the morning."

She then grabbed his hand and pulled him out of his chair. For once, Trouble didn't mind being told what to do.

----

2.

Clone Commander Fox was many things. He was a fighter. He was a leader. According to Stone he was a control freak.

Right now, Commander Fox was bored.

"You look like you're ready to kill something," a light voice hummed in his ear.

Fox turned sharply to the side, still unaccustomed to the playful attitude of his companion. She smiled and a quiet giggle escaped her lips as her golden eyes burned into his own.

"I'm fine," Fox said, clearing his throat uncomfortably. "Just... enjoying the party, Ma'am."

The young senator laughed again, leaning close enough to brush deliberately against his arm. Fox felt his skin rise as she drew her lips close enough to his ear to let her warm breath wash over his skin as she said, "First, I already told you to just call me Riyo tonight." Though her tone was somewhat reproachful, her eyes still sparkled with laughter. "And second, you promised you would be honest."

Fox took a deep breath. His instinct was to brush her off and try some other polite excuse... exactly what he did every time one of the Senators decided to descend to the lowly clones' level and speak to him for a moment. But one more look into Senator Chuchi's - Riyo's - bewitching eyes and his usual MO was out the window.

"I think that I'm too sober to be here," he answered more sincerely than he had meant to.

Riyo let out a real laugh this time, and for just a moment Fox allowed himself the luxury of imagining spending his entire life doing whatever it took to hear that sound over and over again. "You don't even drink, Fox," she said, resting a hand on his bicep to help support her as she continued to chuckle.

He turned his attention to the crowd around in order to hide the blush on his cheeks. Immediately he caught the sight of several Senators cavorting about and drunkenly cackling. "If you're going to keep dragging me to these things, I think I should start," he commented dryly.

Realizing what he had accidentally said, Fox couldn't help but shoot her a guilty sideways glance.

She was smiling up at him. Her azure eyebrows delicately arched, her eyes wide with an almost childlike delight. The faintest ghost of a smile graced her lips as she stared up at him.

"So, you plan to let me drag you to more of these?" she asked, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

Fox's cheeks burned. "I didn't say that."

"Yes you did," Riyo countered, her grin only widening. She glanced around quickly to ensure that no one was looking at them, then leaned up on her toes and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. "And I'm going to make you live up to it," she whispered before dropping back to her feet.

Fox shook his head ruefully. He was in trouble with this one, he just knew it.

And the worst part? He was going to love every minute of it.

[ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask]

I’m in this picture and I don’t like it.

“Oh the people are gonna love this” I say making the most niche piece of media art work that is really only for me,3 people ,and a plastic bag that blows in every so often

[weeinterpreter]

Do you have any plans to post again in the future? The world is in desperate need of some good Holly/Trouble

Thank you for your ask, dear Anon!

I am currently working on continuing my Diamond Blue and Cinnamon Gold series. I know, I know, it's been a while since I updated (I am currently proofreading the next installment, just very unhappy with one action scene in particular. Can I leave it at "Butler and Dima go pew pew"?).

I hadn't thought of any Holly/Trouble fic in a while, but I do adore the pairing! If I wrote a fanfic, it would be an... action/adventure/"finding each other" fic. Then again, I'd love to write a fic where they are already together and just.... support each other? Just some "The Mummy Returns" kind of energies, you know? One common enemy but they face them as a team.

Anyway, I'm just brainstorming. I'm always open for suggestions. Let me know if there's any premise you'd prefer.

Tl;dr: Yes! Let me know what you want to read next. I'll do my best to incorporate it. 💚

[chix-and-lili-central-station]

For @fowlbyname45 these beebs, it took a little while because I also made this sketch comic down below just for fun

They're both a mess

-Mod Art

[fowlbyname45]

I made a Holly x Trouble group chat btw so if you want in on that just let me know and I'll shoot you an invite!

[ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask]

Apparently my ship type is “World’s Dumbest Husband (Who Suffers From A Debilitating Hero Complex) And Redheaded Wife (Who Is So Much Cooler Than Him).”

[fic-rec-time]

The Foul Team   by freudwithwings

Artemis Fowl/Incomplete/Chapters: 21  Words: 160k+  

Hired by the LEP as a consultant, Artemis finds himself at the centre of a growing crisis. He was right: human children ARE getting smarter.   // Hasn't been updated since last year, but stops in a pretty good spot. Good enough to be part of the series, in my opinion.

[thotticusmaxximus]

so I haven't read Artemis Fowl in like,,, 8 years but I JUST saw the trailer and it sucked ASS I HATE whitewashing (actual whitewashing lmao @ u know who) so here's my fancast that no one fucking asked for fuck u Disney. (also this is my opinion if you attack me I will spit on you irl) 

Artemis Fowl - Aiden Gallagher. Look I know he’s dumb but he’s the only child actor I’ve ever seen actually successfully play a mean, genius, arrogant, vaguely villainous child character. and he’s really fucking good at it. most child actors are so sweet and have difficulty pulling that type of character. Asa Butterfield could do it but he’s too old by now. Aiden also fits the description.

Butler - Dave Bautista. great at playing the stoic character, tall and ripped. EURASIAN, he’s perfect!

Holly - Ruth Negga or Cynthia Erivo. Both wonderful and underrated actresses! jacked as fuck, nut brown skin, short hair, and most importantly, WHOLE ASS ADULTS FUCK ARTEMIS X HOLLY. 

Julius - Harrison Ford. you know it would work.

Mulch - Lee Arenberg. Great actor!! looks exactly like how I think mulch would look and can play practically any role well. 

Juliet - I actually don’t know. I had a moment of severe lesbianism and wanted Hayley Kiyoko but she’s just on this side of too old, Juliet is just a teenager. I think this is a good role for a new actress.

Foaly - Tyler James Williams. He’s really good at playing slightly socially inept characters??? I just love him lol. also, Foaly is a centaur if Disney wanted a black character they should've gone with the smart character who had no real description instead of the fucking BUTLER 

Trouble and Grub Kelp - my secret wish is Chris and Liam Hemsworth but it’s VERY unrealistic. these are more good roles for undiscovered actors. they were never really given any real descriptions. 

Chix Verbil - literally anyone lmao he was barely there 

Angeline Fowl - see above  

[ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask]

What's this? Why yes, I am reblogging this story again. Because it ROCKS.

RAREPAIR TIME RAREPAIR TIME!! give it a read and let me know what you think :3

[weeinterpreter]

I just read your answer to my ask from earlier, and I have to say that I am in love with the idea of Trouble and Holly being Rick and Evelyn. Then Foaly or maybe Artemis being Jonathan. And Butler as Ardeth. And Mulch as Beni. And Cudgeon and Opal as Imhotep and Anck-Su-Namun (except that their gender roles are reversed because that's how it would go). And I dunno, maybe Turnball as "Bad CGI The Rock"? Not sure. All I know is I have a lot of thoughts about this now and it's all your fault.

Oh my God, I love this so much!!! Especially the gender swap. Now I first of all need to rewatch The Mummy 1 and 2 (3 doesn't exist... yet?).

So how about... the setting will be around WW2 at the backdrop of the "Abdeen Palace incident" (some military action at 1942 but I would need to do some more research. I do like to have some real historical events in my story) which might have been instigated by Imhotep, so there will be magic and shenanigans gone wrong and/or magical artefacts, as well as people being controlled by ancient powers.

Holly and Trouble obviously will fight this and work together and be super cute, saving each other.

I also want Trouble to want to impress Holly but kind of trip up. Maybe actually trip, hehe.

Just some brainstorming.

[ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask]

Before You Know It

Everyone had rituals. Patterns they followed to give them a sense of familiarity. A sense of comfort before taking off into the unknown. Dwarf mothers taught their little ones to click their jaws three times before taking on any large tunneling jobs to appease the spirits. Sprites tended to shake their wings between five and seven times before flying first thing in the morning, because even numbers were unlucky and anything less than five was unbecoming. Goblins always spit into their hands before conjuring a fireball... no one really knew why, but they did.

For Trouble and Holly, they had a phrase. A call and response, as it were. The call was Make sure you come back to me. The response, I'll be back before you know it.

It had been good for them. Ever since Holly transferred to the LEP Air Force and they stopped working together, neither of them could help but fret for the other whenever they were apart. And so they had their standing orders. Come back. Neither dared to deny such an important command.

Holly thought a lot about their ritual. She wasn't sure when it had started. She wasn't even sure who had said it first. It just felt natural. Somebody said it one time, and they automatically slipped it into their daily repertoire.

Come back to me.

I'll be back before you know it.

It was so easy. So simple. So right. They said it every day. The most recent time they'd been fighting. Spent half the night switching between silently fuming and explosively shouting at each other. Still, after they'd both dressed in their uniforms and were parting at the door, Trouble reached out and grabbed her hand.

"Come back to me," he grumbled. His voice was still gruff, but his violet eyes shone with a sincere concern.

Holly had squeezed his hand back. Despite the lingering frustration over whatever it was that had kept them up and bickering that night, she leaned forward to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

"I'll be back before you know it," she'd answered. Suddenly she was nearly overcome with the desire to give up on the fight entirely and convince him to call in sick for the day. To hold each other and kiss the argument away. To curb that thought, she'd turned and marched away immediately.

Now, sitting on the ground with her back to the door, she wished desperately that she had given in.

It had been two weeks. Two weeks since their fight. Two weeks since she kissed his cheek in the doorway and promised to see him that night. Two weeks since the terrorist attack on the LEP Council. Two weeks since Trouble, the noble idiot, had taken the shot meant for Cahartez.

Two weeks since he hadn't come home.

Today was the day of his recycling ceremony. It had been beautiful. Too many fairies lost their lives that day. Trouble was just one name in a list of others. He would have preferred it that way. Didn't like to have too much attention thrown on him that way.

And after it all, there was Holly. Practically collapsed on the floor, knees drawn to her chest and face in her hands. Tears streamed down her face. She sobbed loudly. She beat her fists against the ceramic tiles until they bloodied, her magic immediately zipping through and healing any damage before it had the chance of scarring.

"Come back," she gasped, dropping her forehead against her knees. Tears dripped onto the floor. Her body trembled. "Please... come back to me."

The call.

Trouble didn't answer.

=-=-=

From this prompt list! I guess I felt the need to write some angst about these two? Absolutely NO idea why. Woof.

[ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask]

This is how I like to imagine Trouble/Holly on their way to actually falling for each other.

[ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask]

I'm a simple man. I see something that can be remotely construed as Touble/Holly, I reblog.

[ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask]

Fatal Flaw

Based on this prompt from @promptsforthestrugglingauthor.

Tagging my AF crew; @valhelos, @thefinaljediknight, @makowrites, and @weeinterpreter

=-=-=-=

The maximum security cells of Howler’s Peak were a dismal sight. Neat, tidy rows of solitary confinement cells stretching as far as the eye could see in the dim lighting. Some cells emitted angry shouts, others whispered threats, still others whimpered pleas. The cells that one typically had to really concern themselves with, however, were silent. Their occupants were too busy to bother with bargaining or threatening. They were planning.

The door Commander Trouble Kelp found himself standing outside was quiet as a grave.

“Are you, uh… are you sure, Commander?” the young guard who had accompanied him into the depths of the prison asked. She was a young goblin with bright eyes and an exceptionally intricate scale pattern. She shifted nervously from foot to foot, her tongue nervously flitting out to wet her eyes at a rapid pace. “I’ve heard things about the person behind that door. About some of the things they did. They say -”

“I’m sure,” Kelp cut her off. He noticed the young guard flinch at the sharpness in his voice and felt a certain sense of guilt for frightening her. He offered her the closest approximation to a reassuring grin he could muster. “Just open the door, Corporal Xyan,” he said in a softer voice, reading the name on her freshly pressed uniform. 

The young goblin nodded doggedly, unlocking the door. It slid open on well-oiled, whisper-quiet hinges. The cell beyond was pitch dark. For a moment, the animal side of Commander Kelp’s brain felt inclined to shy away. To stare into the unknown and flinch. It was the other side of his brain that carried him into the darkness.

It took his eyes several seconds to adjust to the lack of light. Even when they did, all he managed to pick out were the shrouded silhouettes of the very spartan furnishings of the cell. A cot along one wall. Lavatory branching off the other. A heap of laundry in the corner. No. Not laundry. A prisoner, their body curled up against itself to the point of looking nearly deflated.

Kelp’s hard boots clicking against the floor were the only sound in the room. Even his breaths seemed stifled and inadequate in the oppressive, weighty silence that permeated inside. Finally, the shrouded figure shifted.

“I didn’t think you’d come see me,” it hissed, its voice rough with disuse.

The commander fought the urge to wince. He fought down the terrible weight of guilt that threatened to overpower him. He fought the cloying sense of responsibility he felt over the person he now hardly recognized even as it clawed at his throat like an adolescent troll eager to earn its first kill. He fought these things down because they would do him no good here… he had no doubt they would return to haunt him in the dead of night.

He spent several moments trying to find his voice. When he did, he curtly responded, “Yes you did. You knew I’d come.”

A terrible, hissing laughter bounced around the cold cell walls, broken only by a few coughing fits as the prisoner’s atrophied vocal chords struggled to keep pace with their sudden use. “You’re right,” they admitted. “I knew you’d come. But I’d bet it wasn’t an easy decision to make.”

Commander Kelp frowned. An easy decision? No. No, it hadn’t been. But it was no harder deciding to come than it had been convincing himself to stay away. Three years, the prisoner had been down there. Over one thousand days. And each day, Kelp’s mind and heart had played host to the dueling urges within him - one to rush down there immediately, and the other to lock the door and throw away the key. But he’d always known he would be there eventually. It was his fatal flaw… he wanted too badly to believe in people.

One of the many things he’d picked up from his predecessor Julius Root. The closest thing he’d ever had to a father, considering that his own had died when he was barely two decades old. The fairy that Commander Trouble Kelp had molded himself after. The fairy who, despite all of his claims to the contrary, believed in his very core in the goodness of people.

This was the very flaw that had killed Julius. Commander Kelp harbored no doubts that it would claim him as well someday.

He couldn’t help but wonder if that day wasn’t today.

“No,” he finally answered aloud. “Not easy.”

“But necessary,” the voice hissed, issuing forth another fit of terrible laughter. “Commander Trouble Kelp. The youngest fairy to ever hold the rank. One of the most decorated fairies in the LEP’s history. Nothing if not self-sacrificing.”

“Well you would know all about that, wouldn’t you?” Kelp bit back, his ears flattening angrily against the side of his head. “As I recall, you took a fair run at sacrificing me yourself.” His left hand was clenched into a fist. His right itched for the cool, familiar feel of the tri-barrelled, water-cooled blaster he’d been forced to leave behind in the weapons lockup on the first level. ‘Protocol is protocol,’ the gnome had said with an apologetic shrug. In truth it didn’t much matter. Kelp knew he’d never have been able to draw on his current cellmate anyway. He was too attached. Too close to the issue. 

Too weak.

It took several moments for him to calm his breathing and refocus his eyes. When he did, he saw that the prisoner’s posture had shifted. Rather than the indifferent slouch of defiance, he almost thought he saw the resigned slump of remorse.

“I never meant to hurt you.”

The words were quiet. Broken. He wasn’t sure whether they’d been spoken aloud or if he just hallucinated them because they were what he wanted to hear.

Only he hadn’t wanted to hear them. Because those words were his very weakness. His fatal flaw. The sign that there was still some semblance of good in the pitiful being before him. He had hoped to find nothing but murder and hatred in this cell. Proof that he’d done the right thing. He didn’t want to hear… he couldn’t bear to hear something that shook his foundation to the core yet again. That made him rethink everything he’d been trying to tell himself he believed for the past three years.

“You sure did a good job of it, whether you meant to or not.”

The prisoner shifted, casting their eyes in his direction. Those eyes had once been bright, eager, earnest. Not unlike the eyes of the young Corporal Xyan outside. Now they were different. They looked tired. Dull. Sunken.

He stared at them, no matter how badly he wished he could look away. Looked at every square nanometer. The discoloration in the left eye, clouding its blue hue. The flecks of black in the right eye, the ones he used to count on particularly boring days of his youth.

The eyes studied him back. No doubt taking in the noticeable dulling of his own once-vibrant violet irises. The extra worry lines that had grown in the place of his old smile creases. He watched their gaze slide from one eye to the next. Up to his forehead. Down to the blotchy, discolored scars that covered the right half of his face.

“You told me you were staying home that day,” they hissed. “You weren’t supposed to be there.”

Kelp sighed, shrugging in mock casualness and began to pace back and forth in the small cell. “A lot of things were supposed to be different,” he said dismissively. “I wasn’t supposed to be held captive in a human dwelling for the better part of a day and lose most of my magical potency, leaving me without enough to even heal a few burn scars. Julius Root wasn’t supposed to go into that tunnel and get himself killed. Opal Koboi wasn’t supposed to be able to travel through time and send the world back to the stone ages for two years.”

The commander turned a hard scowl on the prisoner. “And you weren’t supposed to leave an explosive device in LEP Headquarters,” he growled harshly. “There’s a lot that should have been different.. Too bad we’re left with what is.”

The prisoner let out a long, pained breath. They almost looked like they were collapsing in on themselves. His pathetic heart be forever accursed, Kelp had to fight the urge to kneel beside them and take them into his arms. To make it alright. To tell them that he knew they were still good somewhere, deep down.

Instead he turned and slowly marched to the doorway of the cell. “Corporal Xyan,” he said, forcing the words out through clenched teeth and blinking in the comparatively blinding light of the hallway.

Xyan appeared in a moment, standing ramrod-straight and at attention. Despite her perfect, practiced posture, she couldn’t help but glance nervously over his shoulder into the darkness. “S-sir?” she asked, stammering anxiously.

“I’m told radios don’t work on this level,” Kelp said more collectedly. “Retrieval One was supposed to be here by now to transport the prisoner; I need you to head up to the Ops Center and find out what Major Gum is holding them for.”

Xyan’s tongue nervously wet her wide eyes in rapid succession. “Sir, that would leave you alone with the prisoner,” she protested. “It’s against protocol to -”

“I understand the protocol,” Kelp cut her off with a cutting motion of his hand. “Unfortunately, the good Major did not see fit to send another guard to accompany us. As such, we’ll have to make do with what we have.” When he noticed her fidgeting hands and obvious discomfort still pervaded, Kelp sighed. 

“It’s alright, Corporal,” he said, offering her a half-grin. That was all the grin he could offer… the nerves in the right half of his face having been severed by the explosion and improperly healed by his weak, faulty magic.. “Tell Gum that I ordered you specifically. He won’t give you any heat for breaking protocol.”

Xyan hesitated a moment longer, her fingers twitching nervously. Finally she reached for her belt to unholster her buzz baton and offer it to the commander. “At least keep this, Sir,” she said plaintively. “For my peace of mind.”

Kelp nodded, accepting the device. “Much obliged, Corporal. Now go.” He waited for her to hem and haw one last time before nodding and dutifully marching back down the corridor.

The commander hefted the baton in his hand, taking a few swings with it to feel its weight. The buzz batons were lighter than they used to be. He didn’t like it. They didn’t feel durable enough for the role they were designed to fill. Still… if he couldn’t have his blaster, the baton was better than nothing.

Finally he slid Xyan’s baton into the holster on his own empty belt and took a few steps toward the prisoner. “On your feet,” he grunted.

“And here my cell was just starting to feel like home,” they hissed back sarcastically. They stared up at him in silence for several pregnant moments, eyeing his hand that trailed close to the holstered baton. Finally they groaned and began hauling themselves to their feet.

“So, where to now?” the prisoner asked casually, brushing nonexistent dust off their knees. “Atlantis? Or maybe Lyonesse… I’ve heard their security is second to none. Or I suppose they could be sending me off to -”

“No,” Kelp cut off the stream of speculation. He swallowed loudly, the action painful on his bone-dry throat. “After Turnball Root and Opal Koboi, the Council is less inclined to offer mass terrorists life-in-prison sentences anymore.”

Confusion was written across their features when they turned back to him. “So, what? They’re turning me loose?” they asked, snickering at the incredulity of the situation. Then the realization and the weight of the situation seemed to fully hit them. “Oh,” they said, nodding slightly. “I see.” Their lips turned up in a sneer. “How very… human of them.”

Another oppressive silence stretched between them. Kelp fought the urge to say something… to try one last time to bridge the gap that had grown between them.

It wasn’t him who broke the silence.

“I’m not sorry for what I did to them.” The voice was soft again, though it had lost some of its roughness. This time when a word or two caught in the throat, it wasn’t from lack of practice, but from strangled emotion. They took a step toward him, facing him directly. “But… I am sorry for what I did to you. I didn’t want to hurt you. I didn’t want to betray you. I didn’t want -”

He held his hand up to forestall another word. He stared into those eyes. The same eyes he had once known. One sky blue, the other chocolate brown. For a moment they weren’t Commander Kelp and the Prisoner anymore… they were just them.

Trouble.

And Holly.

He wanted so desperately to wrap her up in his arms. To press his lips to hers so fiercely and so forcefully and so powerfully that everything else would just cease to exist. To make things right again, and refuse to ever let them be wrong.

Instead, Trouble took hold of the buzz baton. He drew it from its holster. Then he handed it out, handle first.

Holly stared at the offering curiously. “What is this?” she asked skeptically.

Trouble offered her whatever hideous impersonation of a smile he could. “Retrieval One is still fifteen minutes out,” he breathed. “Foaly will have taken care of whatever doorways you need to have a chance to make a clean break out of here.” His breath caught in his throat. Despite having spent weeks planning it, he still couldn’t believe that he was springing a convicted enemy of the People.

Then she smiled at him, and her eyes sparkled in the way that they only ever had for him, and he believed it.

She took the baton from his hands. Then she stepped forward until she was pressed against his chest, and their arms automatically found their way around one another. “Come find me,” she whispered, staring deeply into his eyes while her fingers found their way into his hair. “Someday. Promise.”

He wanted to say no. He wanted to be strong. He wanted to beat his fatal flaw.

“Wait for me,” he breathed. “I’ll find you. Someday.”

She leaned up on her toes to kiss him. He could only feel half of her perfect lips pressing against his own broken, desensitized pair. After three years of torturous nightly dreams… half was enough. “I will,” came her answer. “I’ll wait for you.”

The crackle of the buzz baton against his chest made every muscle in his body contract simultaneously as electricity surged through him. He let out a pained grunt, then collapsed to the floor. The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was her eyes. The eyes of a criminal.

No.

Holly’s eyes. The eyes of the only fairy he’d ever loved. The eyes of a good fairy. No matter how hard he tried to tell himself otherwise, that was what he truly believed at his core. That people were good. It was his fatal flaw. It was going to get him killed someday.

All he could do was hope that today wasn’t that day.

[ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask]

Okay, I’m sorry. Was I supposed to read this and then… what? Not ship them?

C’mon son.

[ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask]

Company

From prompt 1103 by @creativepromptsforwriting

=-=-=-=

Holly Short wasn't a particularly tall person. Even among her fellow Elves, she had always been rather diminutive. Having said that, her somewhat miniature stature didn't keep her from having a presence. Even the large bruisers of LEP HQ chose to flatten themselves against the wall rather than find themselves in her path as she stormed down the corridors, her eyes burning with righteous fury.

She would be lying if she claimed not to enjoy the effect she had on others.

What didn't enjoy, however, was the fact that she very clearly had a tail.

Everywhere she went, she heard a pair of feet following her only a few feet back. No matter how many doorways she ducked through, or Jumbo Pixies she sent scurrying back the way they had come with nothing more than a glare, they stayed hot on her heels.

"Get away from me," she finally growled over her shoulder, refusing to look at the person behind her.

Her cheeks flushed with anger when the only response she received was a laugh. The owner of the footsteps continued to follow her without faltering.

She kept stomping. Refused to look over her shoulder. Didn't let them get the better of her nerves.

"I said go away," she seethed again approximately thirty seconds later. "Stop following me!"

Suddenly he was by her side, all bright smiles and perfect teeth and nice hair and boyish dimples. "Alright, I'll stop following you," he said, his violet eyes sparkling mischievously. "I prefer walking beside you, anyway."

Holly rolled her eyes. Her cheeks warmed even more, and she had to fight to keep the corners of her mouth curling upward. "You're ridiculous, Trouble," she grumbled.

Trouble laughed again, and some of the tightness in her chest inexplicably lightened. "I know," he agreed. Then his large hand wrapped around hers. Her fingers entwined comfortably with his. Her pace slowed from an angry march to a more casual stroll.

She was still mad. At least, that's what she kept telling herself. But maybe she didn't mind the company.