#you can’t let them out into the world; it’ll hurt them. they’re safer with you…

[evie-doesnt-write]

Sam is John’s Aegon but he is also his Helaena…. You see the vision…..

[phantomwithbreakfast]

~ Phantom with Breakfast ~

The meaning behind my pseudonym. Exposing myself—yet still anonymous.

—

TW: Emotional Distress (Mental health struggles—Don’t read if you’re emotionally sensitive)

—

Morning. Or is it? The light through the curtains is dull, muted, as if the world itself shares your mood. One day. Several lives. That’s what they call mood swings—shifts that come and go like storm clouds on a broken horizon. What’s wrong? Everything. Nothing. Both. Always.

Getting out of bed feels like peeling yourself from a grave. The sheets cling like a second skin, but the voices—they don’t let you rest. They don’t let you be. They scream, they demand, pulling you from the oblivion of sleep. “Wake up.” Why? They never answer that. They just keep calling, louder, sharper, until the silence feels like a wound you can’t stop bleeding.

You listen because there’s nothing else to do. Sometimes they’re funny. Sometimes they argue. Sometimes they tear into you like glass shards in a blender. You laugh with them when they’re kind, but the laughter feels foreign, hollow, like it belongs to someone else.

Your feet hit the floor. Cold. It reminds you you’re alive—if that’s what this is. You shuffle to the kitchen, grabbing your favorite coffee mug, pour liquid that tastes like tar but promises to make you human. You sip, letting the bitterness spread through your mouth, hoping it’ll mask the bitterness inside. You sit. Try to be still. Try to prepare for the day, as if there’s anything that could ready you for this.

But then the unease creeps in, soft and insidious. A sound, a feeling. Just a creak, a whisper, a nothing—but it’s there. Your heart clenches. Your breath quickens. Your hands shake, but you clench them into fists, nails digging into your palms until it hurts, until it anchors you. But it doesn’t. The panic is already here, crawling through your mind like a shadow you can’t outrun. You tell yourself it’s nothing. But your body doesn’t listen.

Then there’s that person. The one who makes you feel like the world isn’t so bad, the one who keeps you afloat. They smile at you, and you try to mirror it. Your lips curve upward, but it’s a lie—one you tell well. The mask fits perfectly, even when it suffocates. Inside, there’s a storm, raging, roaring, screaming to break free, but you hold it back for them. For the illusion.

And then—snap. A trigger. Just one. Small, insignificant to anyone else, but to you, it’s the needle that bursts the dam. The anger floods in, sharp and hot, blinding in its intensity. You split—fractured, raw, and all the worst parts of you take control. You lash out, words or actions you can’t take back. You watch yourself do it, powerless to stop, even as something inside begs you to. But it’s too late. It always is.

When it’s over, all that’s left is the void. Hollow. Empty. You sit in the wreckage of yourself, confusion gnawing at the edges of your mind. You don’t understand—how it began, why it happened, why it always does. You want to scream, to cry, but all that comes is silence.

One day. Several lives. Too many emotions. Too many masks. Too much of everything—and nothing at all.

———————

The only escape, the only fragile thread keeping you tethered to something resembling sanity, is the therapy you’ve made for yourself—drawing lines that bleed onto paper, writing words that scream louder than you ever could. You pour yourself out, ink and graphite carrying pieces of you you’re too scared to hold onto. But even here, even in this, there’s no freedom. Just another cage painted with pictures.

You lose yourself in the fantasy. You get lost because it’s safer than being found. It’s a world you’ve made, a labyrinth of stories and shapes, yet every corner feels familiar, like a path you’ve walked before but don’t remember choosing. Stuck. Yet moving forward. A path you might not know, but somehow, you know.

And yet, the real world seeps in. Overwhelming. Heavy. A storm crashing through your carefully built walls. You stand, trying to stay grounded, trying to feel the floor beneath your feet. But deep inside, there’s nothing. Or maybe too much. A cold stream winds its way through you, freezing your core, numbing everything you might have felt. Everything you should feel. And then there’s the heart. That stupid, stubborn heart. Beating. Keeping time. Letting you know you’re alive. Or are you?

You want to fly, the night sky is calling you, infinite and empty, getting lost in the stars. To be weightless, to forget everything, floating in nothingness. You stretch your arms wide, soaring, even as you know the ground is still far away beneath you.

For a moment, it’s perfect. You hover in the darkness, suspended between nowhere and nothing, and it’s like the world finally lets you go. But then—there it is. The pull. A weight at your back, clawing at your chest, dragging you down when all you want is to stay. A tether you can’t see but always feel, yanking you back to earth. Back to reality. Back to everything you were trying to leave behind.

You fight against it, heart pounding as you push higher, trying to go faster. But the pull is relentless, tightening like chains around your ribs, and suddenly you’re falling. The sky slips away, the stars dimming, the cold air turning into something suffocating.

And then, you’re on the ground again, feet planted, heart racing, chest heaving. The freedom you tasted is gone, leaving nothing but the weight. Always the weight. You stand there, trembling, wondering why you thought you could escape. Wondering why you keep trying.

———————

Life feels like walking on a tightrope in the middle of a storm. The wind never stops, and neither do the voices. Some days, the rope sways so violently you think it’ll snap, and other days, it’s your own hands letting go because holding on feels too exhausting. The world demands balance, but balance feels like a cruel joke—like asking the ocean to stop its waves or the wind to still its breath.

Your mind is a carousel that never stops spinning. Thoughts flash past so fast you can’t grab onto any of them. You start a task, drop it, pick up another, then forget why you started in the first place. Time slips away, hours melting into each other, and you’re left staring at the mess you didn’t clean, the calls you didn’t make, the life you’re failing to keep up with. Everyone else seems to move forward while you’re stuck in quicksand, fighting to breathe.

And then there’s the chaos inside—the storm of emotions that never rests. One minute you’re fine, or at least pretending to be, and the next, anger surges out of nowhere, sharp and uncontrollable, leaving you staring at the wreckage of another bridge burned. Then the guilt follows, creeping in like a shadow, whispering that you’re too much. Too loud. Too broken. And maybe you believe it.

You feel everything too much and yet not enough. Your highs are dizzying, euphoric, like touching the stars, but they never last. The crash always comes, slamming you down into the hollow ache of emptiness. The kind of emptiness that sits in your chest like a stone, heavy and cold, reminding you that no matter how hard you try, you can’t outrun it. It always catches up.

You want to scream, but the words get stuck. You want to cry, but the tears won’t fall. You want to stop feeling, but the numbness terrifies you more than the pain. You try to reach out, but how do you explain the whirlwind inside? How do you make someone else understand when you don’t even understand yourself?

Unstable. That’s the word they’d use. But it’s not just instability—it’s exhaustion. It’s the weight of carrying a brain that never quiets, a heart that feels too much, a soul that’s always searching for a place to rest. You’re tired of the fight, tired of pretending, tired of holding on when you don’t even know what you’re holding onto anymore.

And yet, somewhere deep inside, there’s a tiny spark. Faint, flickering, but there. The part of you that still hopes, still dreams, still believes that maybe one day, the tightrope will steady, and you’ll find your balance. Until then, you keep walking, step by shaky step, because that’s all you can do.

———————

It starts as a flicker—just a small distraction from the chaos of your mind. A character on a screen, a name in a book, a voice that feels like it was made for you. They’re not real, but they might as well be, because they feel more alive than you’ve ever felt. They become a lifeline, a beacon in the overwhelming storm of your thoughts, pulling you in until you can’t let go.

At first, it’s comforting. A safe place to rest your mind, a world where you can lose yourself without judgment. But then it grows, consuming every quiet moment. They slip into your thoughts like a thief in the night, stealing your focus, your time, your energy. You find yourself obsessing over every detail—how they’d sound if they spoke to you, what their touch might feel like, how their presence might fill the hollow ache you can’t escape.

It’s not just admiration. It’s need. It’s longing so intense it feels like your chest might crack under the weight of it. You replay scenes in your head, write stories where they save you, or maybe you save them. Because in those stories, you’re not too much. You’re enough. You’re seen. Loved.

But reality doesn’t bend that way. They don’t exist, and you know it. Geez, you know it. But the knowing doesn’t stop the wanting. It doesn’t stop the way they haunt you, like a shadow that clings to your every step. You try to let go, but the thought of losing them—this one thing that makes the noise bearable—is unbearable.

Your friends don’t get it. “It’s just a character,” they say, as if that makes it easier. As if you can just turn it off. But they don’t see the way you’ve built a connection, a whole life in your head where things make sense, where you’re not broken or empty or drifting. They don’t see how it feels like this person is the only thing keeping you from falling apart, even if they’re not real.

And yet, the obsession comes with its own kind of pain. You hate yourself for needing them this much. For the hours lost scrolling through fan art, watching clips, reading and rereading their stories, like they might change if you just look hard enough. For the nights you lie awake, wishing they could step out of your screen and pull you into a world that feels safer than your own mind.

It’s suffocating. You know it’s unhealthy, but it’s the only thing that feels like it fits. They don’t judge you, don’t get tired of you, don’t leave. They’re perfect in ways no one real could ever be, and maybe that’s why you hold on so tightly. Because the real world is messy and loud, and people always seem to find a way to hurt you. But they? They never do.

And still, it’s lonely. Because no matter how much you adore them, they’ll never doing it back. You scream into the void of your own mind, wishing you could pull them closer, wishing they could save you. But all you have is silence. And it hurts.

It hurts more than anyone could ever understand.

———————

Eventually, I found myself searching for the bright side sometimes, guided by a quote I made my own:

‘Better crazy and a freak, than being normal and boring, right? Right.’

———————

You can find my phan fic stories here.

———————

This drawing of Danny reflect the moods I navigate through on certain days—not every day, but on those days when everything feels heavier. It starts with coffee—a quiet moment to steady myself—but it always ends with a random trigger that flips the day on its head. Whether it spirals into euphoria, anger, or deep depression, the shift is sudden, uncontrollable, and all-consuming.

It’s like a heavy breakfast that lingers through the day, even when you feel like a ghost—like a phantom. A Phantom with Breakfast.

[halfmoth-halfman]

prologue

You’ve never been inside the famous club, The 141.

i. it's a new day, it's a new life

This isn’t where you expected to end up—stuck in some rundown motel with nothing but the clothes on your back.

ii. a collection of strangers (a series of secrets)

You can only describe them the same way you can the rest of the club’s workers—stunning.

iii. no proof except my silver tongue

You’ve never been to this side of town at night.

iv. the night was young (and so were we)

Surveying the competition turns out to be code for going on a club crawl and getting obscenely drunk.

v. she works hard for the money (so you better treat her right)

You don’t know what to expect from shopping with Valeria.

vi. would you give the devil this dance

You can’t let yourself be haunted by your past forever, and, unsure as you are, you know one thing to be true: You’ve never felt safer than you do around him.

vii. wise men say, only fools rush in

In the following weeks, you learn one very important thing: John Price is a relentless flirt.

viii. but i can't help failing in love with you

You don’t know how you feel as you kiss him. It’s a combination of emotions you haven’t felt in so long: relief, desire, comfort, joy. They all swirl together into the one emotion you’ve been chasing since your wedding. Safe.

ix. the rumor burned straight through the town (and as it grew, so did her vow)

Kyle doesn’t think much of you the day you first walk into the club.

x. everybody thought the truth had been caught (her reputation began to drown)

You haven’t looked at your wedding photo in years.

xi. screaming birds sound an awful lot like singing

Everything you’ve experienced in the past four months pales in comparison to how your heart shatters at this moment.

xii. it won't cost you much (just a single drop of blood)

Who knew rock bottom looked like standing before a wall of mirrors in a bespoke wedding gown?

xiii. little girl gone

You’re shocked into consciousness, startling awake in a pile of plush blankets and cloud-soft pillows.

xiv. nothing makes me weak now (you better run for your life)

The news of Price’s arrest—of your alleged murder—sends you into a state of shock.

xv. won't forgive what you did (i've never hurt anyone, now it's time)

They float somewhere between too compliant and too afraid, like they’re scared you may snap at any given moment. Whether they worry it’ll be in anger or anguish, you don’t know. Price is the worst of them all.

xvi. what you'll see is the worst me (I will ask you for mercy)

The nights are the hardest.

xvii. for if i'm going down i guess i'll take you with me

By the end of the week, the plan is set.

xviii. i'm free darlin' (i revenge, i revenge)

Your world is engulfed in fire and blood.

epilogue. it's a new dawn, a new day, a new life (and i'm feeling good)

The beginning of the rest of your life starts with a single, admittedly awkward, therapy appointment. 

Extras

karma is a cat purring on my lap

The cat is a wretched creature made of a vicious hatred that could rival only the Devil himself.

my personal hcs for canary

canary's dresses

canary's wedding dresses

canary and adler headcanons

how the 141 makes their money

how the gangs run their businesses

random designer dress headcanons

alternate ending ideas

songs used for chapter titles

soap hcs + canary and price children hcs

canary + 141 age headcanons

[pinkhairandpokemon]

———

[Another recorded audio. It starts with that same odd static noise from the previous one, before you hear a conversation begin. The voices of Blake and N are distinguishable.

Blake: “L-Lord N…?”

N: “Hm? What is it?”

Blake: “When we got out of the cave, you… you lied to Cole when he asked what the Dark Stone was.”

N: “Of course I did. Look, as much as I respect Cole, he’s interfered enough as it is. We’re so close to awakening the Legendary Dragon- we can’t have anything or anyone getting in the way now.”

Blake: “I- I know…”

Blake: “But…”

…

N: “…Blake?”

N: “What’s the matter? You look… upset.”

Blake: “It’s… it’s nothi-…”

Blake: “…No. It’s not nothing.”

Blake: “Lor- …N, I don’t want to do this anymore.”

N: “You…”

N: “Don’t want to do what…?”

Blake: “I- I don’t want to separate humans and Pokémon anymore!”

Blake: “It’s just- it doesn’t seem fair to me…! I don’t think Cole and every other trainer out there should have to give up their Pokémon just because of a few bad people- especially not when their Pokémon don’t even want to leave them, either!”

N: “What? Blake…”

Blake: “It isn’t right to punish every trainer out there for something they might not even be responsible for, and I have no idea why I ever let Team Plasma believe otherwise!”

N: “Blake-”

Blake: “You can’t tell me you haven’t seen it, have you? You heard Cole’s Pokémon tell you themselves how much they want to be with him, right? We can’t let Team Plasma do this anymore! Stealing Pokémon, hurting people- it’s not fair to them, it’s not fair to anyone, and in the end it’s not going to he-”

N: “Blake!”

Blake: “Wh- huh?”

N: “What on earth are you talking about? Look, I know you’ve had your reservations about our mission before, but we’ve been over this countless times.”

N: “It’s not just a few bad people. It’s never been. Humans hurt Pokémon in countless ways, ones they don’t even realize sometimes. Pokéballs, battling… Not even in just Unova, it’s all over the world. You already know all of this.”

Blake: “I… I do, but…”

N: “Look… I understand. You and I didn’t grow up in the same worlds. This was all… normal for you.”

N: “But you’ve seen the hurt, abused and broken Pokémon the sages brought before me almost everyday. Your Axew was one of them. Do you want a world where things like that can still happen? Where Pokémon are at risk of going through… exactly what she did?”

Blake: “N-no, of course not…”

Blake: “But… but there has to be some other way. I mean- Pokémon have been living beside humans for hundreds of years… is separating them really the answer? What if that just ends up doing more harm than good? Wouldn’t a world where we can just… coexist be better?”

N: “…”

N: “I wish it was possible, believe me. But you know that’s not achievable. Humans… they’re just too selfish.”

N: “I’ve gone over this formula a thousand times in my head. I’ve accepted it won’t be an easy change, but it’ll pave the way for a better world. A safer world.”

Blake: “N-”

N: “Don’t you see? We’ve come too far to back down now. There’s too many Pokémon in suffering out there that are counting on us. Once I stand at the top of the Pokémon League, Team Plasma will be able to free all of them. We won’t have to wait years and years to get to them, or just sit around hoping something will be done about it anymore.”

Blake: “…”

N: “…Blake, look at me for a moment.”

N: “In the time that we’ve known each other, I haven’t steered you wrong yet, have I?”

Blake: “No…”

N: “Then please, just trust me. One more time. Once we reach the end of this, it’ll all be worth it- I promise you. We’re going to create that better world together, remember?”

N: “We have the Dark Stone. Soon enough, we’ll have Zekrom by our side. If she agrees to fight alongside me, that’ll be proof enough that all our beliefs and efforts haven’t been for nothing.”

N: “All I need from you is to stand beside me until then, okay?”

N: “…Please.”

Blake: “…”

Blake: “…Okay. I will.”

N: (Sigh) “Thank you. I won’t let your loyalty be misplaced, I promise.”

N: “…The next town is just up ahead. Do you want to come in with me when I go face Skyla?”

Blake: “I… I think I’ll wait outside this time, actually.”

N: “You sure? It’s pretty cold out…”

Blake: “I’ll be fine.”

N: “If you insist… I won’t take long, then.”

N: “And… Blake? Please, don’t try to worry yourself over this too much.”

Blake: “I… I won’t. I wish you luck in your battle, Lord N. I’ll be right here.”

N: “…Alright.”

A tense, awkward silence hangs in the air for a moment, before you hear N’s footsteps walking away as the audio clip ends.]

———

[kavaeroexe]

grip of multiple hands

yan!Padme x reader x Yan!Anakin

summary : you guys spending a night together after your latest attempt to escape

warning : typos, bad grammar

attention! please do not try to repost my works, i only post my works on tumblr, if anyone see someone stole my works please inform me through the comments, tag me in the works, or message me!    

.

.

.

.

.

.

“how far did they go this time?”

“pretty much as far as yesterday.”

Padme sitting elegantly on the couch, just to look at you being dragged by Anakin a bit harshly since you being an extra rebel this week, that’s not what they want from you, remember?

Anakin placed you on the couch and makes you sit between him and Padme. you grumbly saying “let me go, free me” multiple times but they didn’t even listen to you, just playfully careesing you cheek and hug you close to them

“dear, do we make some unacceptable mistake? may i know so we can probably fix it? we want to give it the best when it’s about you, you know about it.”

Padme hold you close, with her sound that you could say is pretty sad, you know she, no- they genuinely wants the best to you, its just their obsession. it ruins everything, you think.

“i want some personal space, is it that hard to get?” you grumbled, feeling that Anakin hold you even more tighter than before. no need to let go, your energy, spirit, condition could not make it to let go form they’re holding so tight onto you, not wanting to let you go, even the slightest.

 “you know we can’t grant your wish about that.” Anakin replied, but Padme hasn’t let her voice out about what you want, so foolishly of you look at Padme, looking at her face, just to see she’s nodding her head in a form of agreement with Anakin. stupid, why would you even think that she’ll grant you wish upon you who have making an escape so so many times that now they don’t want to let go of you.

“ I’m terribly sorry, but you know we can’t make up on that one.” Padme replied and then brushing your hair that is soft, silky, perfectly taken care so carefully by the Senator’s maids everyday. every touch that they gave to you fills with obsession, possession and of course, overwhelmed love, so do with their words, no doubts. “I don’t want you to run so scarily like that ever again, okay love? giving you ‘personal space’ could make you run away, and we don’t want that, besides you’re safer with us rather than to be alone, let alone that ‘freedom’ you’re talking about.” she kisses you cheek, soft and warm cheek, oh how she loves it, so does with your first expression when she could saw you face heaten up when she kissed your cheek for the first time after she confessed her love to you. so sweet yet now its just a nothing but memories.

Anakin holds your hand carefully, as if it’ll break into pieces if he grabs it too hard, the last time he dragged you before, he thinks it was close before he might break your little hand into pieces and he thinks he would never stand to see your face dying out of hurt, especially because of him. he then kiss you hands and hold it like before, like its his last time to see you before you’re gone, forever.

He remembers the first time he finally able to hold you tight, right in his arms, when he’s back from his mission, oh how he loved your relieved face and you bright smile because of you seeing him, that means that smile just for him, he loves it so much, he start to imagine what you’re face like if he actually often go to dangerous mission and then come back to see you run for him.

actually it hurts him to see you escape every single time you got a chance, don’t be a foolish, all he wants is just you to be safe, secure, and want you to be happy, and he’s sure that you aren’t happy if you go outside and somebody else just might catch, kidnap, or even kill you for some stupid credits.

let this night pass, and next day they’ll sure they would make you forget about the outside world. they’re going to make sure that they are you world, nothing else matters for you, goodluck trying to escape next time, dear.

[dodo-begone]

Crotch Goblins

Pairing: Purpled x Reader, Ranboo x Reader, Tommy x Reader, Tubbo x Reader

Request: wait would it be cringe if i like. requested your take on the yandere kids

Word Count: 1.6K

Warning: yandere, fighting mentioned, stalking, fear of abandonment, anxiety, stealing, kidnapping, the egg

A/N: This is all platonic! Nothing romantic.

Ranboo

This poor child lives in constant fear of forgetting you. His memory issues are a big problem and it affects everybody he loves. And his anxiety definitely doesn’t help his situation; it only feeds his paranoia of losing you.

To prevent losing any precious memories of you, he’ll write down so much about you. He’d probably have books on books just dedicated to things about you he wants to remember. Another way to always remember you is to never be away from you! It’s much harder to forget somebody if you’re constantly around them!

If you allow it, he’ll fucking cling to you. He loves the attention and reassurance you give him. Aw yeah he's a poor memory boy and constantly scared of Dream and enderwalking. Please stay by him??? Pretty please??

He’ll occasionally come over to your house in search of your company. Though he won’t tell you that directly. It’ll be under the pretense that he’s very scared of something happening and wanted to stay with you for some comfort. Not all of that’s a lie though. He always goes to you when he’s anxious; you’re his safe place. You make everything right and good again. You found it rather endearing that he trusted and liked you so much. Baked treats would always be on standby for his visits.

He’ll occasionally come over to your house in search of your company. Though he won’t tell you that directly. It’ll be under the pretense that he’s very scared of something happening and wanted to stay with you for some comfort. Not all of that’s a lie though. He always goes to you when he’s anxious; you’re his safe place. You make everything right and good again. You found it rather endearing that he trusted and liked you so much. Baked treats would always be on standby for his visits.

He’ll slowly start to stay at your house for longer and come back quicker. Soon he’s practically living with you. You’re not bothered by it at first, and you don’t think about it after a while. The domesticity of the situation just feels right. Why would you disrupt something like this?? And he deserves some of this. After all, the dsmp isn’t a nice place, and especially not to Ranboo. Why don’t you just let him have this?

Tommy

Tommy lives in constant fear of you abandoning him. Or worse, having someone take you from him. He’s lost so many loved ones already, and he doesn’t know how many more he can live through. You’re one of his most prized possessions, besides Tubbo and the Disks. Above Tubbo, but a close contender with the disks.

He’s gonna be clingy af. And he’ll do anything you want him to. By that, he really means anything he thinks you’d want him to do or something that’s “necessary”. Overall it’s just bad stuff. Be prepared for some warfare to happen just for you.

No thought, only fighting. Fights will break out over the silliest things. Like he wants attention from you? Fight! Someone getting too close?? Begone thot!! This is his friend! Not theirs! Back off.

After every fight, you’ll bandage his wounds while lecturing him. Not a single thing you say will be properly heard by Tommy. Your words would slur together in his ears, turning themselves into a beautiful song. Did you know your voice sounds really good? Oh yeah, you make the pain go away so quickly too. Your medical skills are just so fucking good, can’t you see?

There will be no question that he’d steal for you; he’d do it without question or request. If he finds anything that you might like or need? Yoinked as soon as the old owner isn’t looking. Finders keepers, after all. The smp is a dog-eat-dog world. And you deserve the fucking best shit man. If you find out it’s stolen, you’d return it in a heartbeat with so many apologies. You somehow found it somewhere and you didn’t know it was theirs. Wow you must like Tommy if you’re covering for him like that!

You’d be dragged around by Tommy on some days. All a grand tour to show you his creations, and he begrudgingly shows you some of the builds by the others. He feels somewhat inadequate when he eventually shows you his stuff. Like his multiple cobblestone towers. But you’re giving such nice compliments for each one. And they’re all so unique too. No two compliments are the same. He is a really good builder, huh?

Tubbo

He’s going to be protective of you. Not overbearingly so, but definitely is watching out for your safety a ton. With him having watched the lives of those he loves fall apart around them, he doesn’t want the same fate to fall upon you. He can’t go through that cycle again, and especially so soon. You’re so nice too. You definitely don’t deserve that fate.

Micheal took a liking to you really quickly. If Micheal likes you, that means that you’re a part of the family. He doesn’t care what you have to say, it’s just facts. You have a problem with it? Try bringing that up to Micheal. Want to tell him that you aren’t a part of the family? Exactly. So that means that you are a member.

Oh and you help him so much, which he’s thankful for. And it’s not just to a specific type of task either. You help with everything. Building, cooking, caring for Micheal, the whole biz. With you doing so much and putting so much effort into everything, that must mean that you love him like he loves you, right? Nobody does this much for somebody else without loving them. So the obvious answer is that you love him back!

Will do anything in his power to convince you to move in with him, Ranboo and Micheal. Like really hard. He pulled all of the charms and stops. And there’s a very slim chance that you didn’t move in. Though you would eventually. There isn’t a chance in hell that you wouldn’t be living in that house by some point. You’d be moving in with or without your consent. Maybe one day you just woke up in the mansion. Oh hey why do you look so confused? You agreed to move in already silly, don’t you remember?

There’s no and, if, or buts about it; he’d get Ranboo in on it also if he wasn’t already. They’re platonically married after all. And the three of you are all friends. So it’s obvious that Ranboo would be in on it as well. If he isn’t, then he’d turn a blind eye to Tubbo’s behavior. Huh, yeah he didn’t notice that at all. Nope, nothing odd happening here.

Would absolutely get you to help him on every little task that he could. Especially with building and taking care of little Micheal. The builds would be little cottage core stuff. Such sweet and quaint things. Not too much or too hard, but very pleasing to the eyes and the feeling of accomplishment the two of you got at the end of the project felt incredible. Children can be such a handful too, so any help for Micheal will be much appreciated. Plus it’s so much fun to play with children, especially children in Micheal’s age group. The more time you spend with them, the less time you have to spend with anyone else. Which leads to a smaller chance of being taken from them.

Purpled

This man? Oh he’s so fucking happy that you and him don’t have many relations outside of each other. It’s so much easier for you two. Since you two are so close, it’s easy to coerce you into living with him. Yeah it may be far from the rest of the smp, but that’s okay. It’s not like you had any friends there. It’s easier to stay safer so far away from everything. And you know what’s even better? Nobody would even notice y’all disappear!

Before y’all moved away, he always conveniently showed up at random times. It was always during times when you were alone or felt alone. Really helped you there; made you feel loved that somebody noticed and was there for you. Though it was odd how often he appeared at just the right moment. You wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth though.

He always knows what to get you. What your favorite flowers are, what food you like, what your favorite color is, your favorite gift items. He even knows your dislikes. Even the ones you don’t tell him. You know, anything a good friend would know.

If somebody even remotely offends/scares/harms you, they’re in fucking trouble. That? Yeah, that’s a valid reason to start a fight. He’ll beat them within an inch of their life and threaten to do it again if they even thought of hurting you like that. >:( Definitely got them to stop talking to you.

Since he’s working for the egg, he feels like the egg could maybe protect you?? Yeah he’s not completely under its control and he sees how crazy the other members of the eggpire are, but it can’t be that bad. The others are just praising it, talking about how it could make all of his deepest desires a reality. Not many people like going to the egg, and they wouldn’t be looking for prisoners there. So it should be safe for you. Well, safer than the outside world. And his deepest desire is your safety and love, so that should be easy to gain if he brought you to the egg, right?

There is no question: he’d kidnap you to bring you to the egg. Though it’ll be after a while of trying to persuade you to come with him for that. You heard so many horrible things about the egg, so it’d be better if you didn’t get involved with that. So if his attempts to get you to the egg fail, then some forceful measures will be used. It was for your best interest after all.

[atlabeth]

everything happens for a reason part 11 - zuko x fem!reader

Memories, where'd you go?

part 10 | masterlist | part 12

a/n: alternative name for this fic: y/n gets a crush on every pretty girl she meets. yue, katara, and now suki. she can't help it (and she questions why they're all connected to sokka in some way lmaoo)

anyways, this is kind of filler but it establishes some more with relationships and finallyyy gets us into ba sing se at the end. i know it's a lil annoying because there's a lot of episode-to-text writing, but i promise it'll get more freeform as it goes on

also i know that i just posted something yesterday but i have literally zero patience. like i cant hold chapters i have to post them as soon as i write them loll

wc: 5.3k

warning(s): some feels over zuko as per usual, but overall a pretty tame chapter

chapter title comes from memories by panic! at the disco!

Zuko could barely sleep anymore.

He didn’t know when his life became so complicated, but he wasn’t a fan of it.

Back when it was just him, his crew, and the open sea — it was simple. He had a job, a straightforward mission. Find the Avatar, capture him, return home to the Fire Nation and regain his honor.

Now, the waters were more muddied than ever. Now on the run from the Fire Nation just like the boy he was chasing, all he really felt nowadays was anger.

Angry at the world for setting him on this path, angry at the Avatar for refusing to see what was necessary, his sister and her friends for turning against him, angry at the waterbender for making things so damn hard.

He didn’t want to hurt her. A part of him wished that she had never come back into his life, if it meant he wouldn’t have to constantly be fighting against her. He hated himself for the thought, but maybe it would have been easier for her to remain a memory of a lover than his active enemy.

Late at night, when he was reaching fruitlessly for sleep that would never come, he saw her face. The carefree energy from their childhood morphed into the shock and disappointment from both the North and their fight with Azula, and…

It made him wonder what in Agni had happened to them.

He—

He didn’t know. The way he felt about her, it was different than anything he had experienced before. Zuko didn’t know what it was, but he understood that it was special. And now… it felt like he had just thrown it all away.

Zuko couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened with her in that town — what he had done to her.

He had burned her to try and get to the Avatar, and he hadn’t even allowed a glance back at the damage he had done. He had heard her cry out in pain, pain he had caused, and he didn’t even look back.

What had happened to them? What had happened to him?

He kept telling himself that the mission was the only thing that mattered. And it was, wasn’t it? Capture the Avatar, regain his honor, get his old life back and finally be enough for his father. He didn’t have time for friends, or for these feelings he had, or— or for anything but capturing the Avatar. Because the Avatar was the key to everything, to his honor, and that was all that mattered.

But now…

Now, he didn’t know what he was supposed to do. He didn’t know what was right, or what was wrong, or what path was the one he had to take.

Zuko just wished things could be like they used to be.

~~~~~~~~~~

She didn’t really know when everything had become a mess again.

It all started out fine, like it usually did. Toph had become fully integrated into the group, any past squabbles put to rest in the name of a stronger friendship emerging between all five of them. Katara continued to work on Aang’s waterbending (oftentimes Y/N joining them in their sessions) while Toph slowly but steadily beat earthbending into him — literally.

They had all been working hard for so long that, by decree of Aang, it was ‘vacation time’. They would all get to pick out places they wanted to spend as a break, and after it was over they would get back to work.

Aang had chosen some sort of field with musical groundhogs, and Y/N had opted to revisit an Earth Kingdom village that she had passed through on her journey to the North. Sokka had complained the whole time about how they were ‘wasting valuable planning time’, but had finally conceded after the promise of ‘all the planning his heart could desire’ from Katara after their mini-vacations were over.

Y/N was actually feeling somewhat relaxed for once, but she had forgotten the golden rule — never let your guard down. Everytime she let her guard down, something bad happened without fail. So it shouldn’t have been any surprise with what happened in the desert.

Because after one trip to the Misty Palms Oasis and a journey into the desert with a professor to a long lost library, Appa had been taken by desert raiders.

It was… less than favourable. During their escape from the library, Professor Zei had insisted on staying behind, and now the five of them were stuck in the middle of the desert with no way out and zero guidance. Add some brewing tensions between Aang and Toph because of her being there when Appa was taken, and they had a recipe for a huge disaster.

And a disaster they had. Multiple disasters, actually.

There was only so much she and Katara could do to hold the group together, but by some miracle, they made it out of the desert with only one Avatar State mishap.

(And an incident with cactus juice, but… she didn’t really want to talk about that.)

....at least they had the information about the Eclipse. That was about the only thing keeping her together at the moment.

They had to get the information to the Earth King so they could formulate an attack with his warriors, but without Appa, they had to resort to more traditional methods of travel. Add in one passport problem, and that was how Y/N found herself braving the Serpent’s Pass alongside a refugee family with a baby on the way.

It was… intimidating, to say the least. Despite being surrounded by her element, Y/N didn’t feel any safer from the challenge that faced them. She took a deep breath, trying to tamp down on her fear the way her mother had taught her, as she followed the group, but her thoughts were soon interrupted.

“Hey.” She turned to see who the voice belonged to and was greeted by the girl that had teased Sokka early — Suki, if she remembered correctly. “I haven’t seen you around; are you with the Avatar or that family?”

“I’m with Aang,” Y/N explained. “I’m from the North, and they offered me a spot with them after they helped us defend our tribe against the Fire Nation. I’ve been with them ever since.” Suki nodded as they settled into a comfortable stride.

“That’s cool. Are you a waterbender?”

She gestured to her waterskin and smiled. “Yeah. I’ve been training with Aang and Katara ever since I left.” Y/N then turned her gaze back to Suki, raising an inquisitive brow. “Your makeup — what’s it for? I heard you talking about the Kyoshi Warriors back there; is that some kind of thing with Avatar Kyoshi?”

Suki grinned, her every expression heightened by the sharp reds and blacks above her eyes. “We’re a group of all-female warriors that use the teachings of Avatar Kyoshi and her partner Rangi to defend our home and the place she founded, Kyoshi Island. I’m the leader of our village section.”

“Wow,” she murmured, her eyes falling to the ground for a moment before finding their way back up to the warrior. “That’s really cool. You’re really cool.”

She laughed and shrugged. “Thanks. I’ve been training as a warrior for almost my whole life, so it just comes naturally. I like being able to protect people, and there’s no better way to pay back my home for all it’s done for me like protecting the whole village.”

“Wow,” she repeated with a small laugh of her own. “That’s really brave. I gotta say, I’m kinda jealous — I would love to see what would happen if Master Pakku met you all. Katara literally had to beat the sexism out of him in order to train to be a master.”

Suki chuckled. “Sounds like what I had to do with Sokka. Guess it’s a thing with Water Tribe guys, huh?”

At the mention of Sokka, she internally laughed. There had to be some kind of connection between the two of them, the way their interests kept aligning. “Sokka… he’s had it hard. I can’t blame him that much for any kind of attitude he had before he met you. Pakku, on the other hand? He had to have had something better to do than fight teenage girls.”

“You would think so, right?” Suki agreed. “And Sokka… I know. He’s got a heart of gold underneath all that, he just needed a little push to get it out.” As Y/N glanced over at the girl, noticing a slight pink tint under the white makeup, she gasped.

“La’s fins, are you two a thing?” she exclaimed with a grin.

Suki flushed even harder as she suddenly became very interested in the ocean around her, but she couldn’t help the smile on her lips. “No! I mean— yes— but… but—” she stopped to gather her thoughts before making eye contact again with a sheepish smile. “We’re not… really a thing, but… I do like him a lot. I didn’t really think I was going to see him again after they left the island, so this is really nice.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” Y/N asked. “I can already tell that he cares about you — have you seen how careful he’s being with you?”

“Well—” Whatever kind of excuse Suki would’ve made up was interrupted by a rock falling out just under Than, one of the refugees they were with, saved in the nick of time with Toph’s earthbending.

“I’m okay!” he reassured, but no sooner had the words left his mouth before the Fire Nation ship in the distance started firing.

“They’ve spotted us!” Sokka yelled. “Let’s go, let’s go!”

Aang flicked his glider open and deflected the blast, and Katara grabbed Y/N’s hand as they all began to run. Another blast rocked the mountain, causing several boulders to fall just above Suki. Y/N didn’t even have time to shout out a warning before Sokka tackled her out of the way, but it was ultimately more of Toph’s quick earthbending that saved him.

“Suki, are you okay?” Sokka brushed dust and pebbles off of her uniform as he examined her, and once he was satisfied he grabbed her hand and helped her up. “You have to be more careful! Come on!”

As the two of them caught up to Y/N and Katara, she gave Suki a knowing look. The warrior only blushed once again and glanced away.

After hours of navigating the pass, they were only about halfway through. Sokka made the executive decision to set up camp for the night to give everyone time to rest, and then they would get up at the crack of dawn to finish their trip. It only took a few minutes for Y/N to get a fire going, and soon everyone had settled in with their sleeping bags. Sokka got up from his spot as Suki wandered closer to the edge, and Katara nudged Y/N with her shoulder.

“Hey. How are your hands doing?”

“They’re fine,” she answered with a small smile, flipping her hands over as proof. Where there were once red burn scars on her palms only tiny white marks remained — one benefit to healing via waterbending was that most injuries were able to fade away completely after enough sessions. Her burns weren’t very serious and she was able to heal them almost immediately, so both her and Katara were sure that the marks would be completely gone soon.

The mental scars wouldn’t fade as easily.

“That’s good. And you’re taking care of them, right? Like, you’re not beating up people while we’re not looking?”

Y/N grinned. “No. I think I’ll leave that to Toph.”

Katara chuckled and nodded, turning her hands over in a final examination before nodding. “Good,” she repeated. The silence between them, although comfortable, stretched out for a little too long before she spoke again, this time much quieter. “He did this to you.”

“Katara…”

“I know,” she said. “I know you probably don’t want to hear this from me, or really at all, but… I’m worried about you. Zuko isn’t good for you. Every time we’ve run into him, he’s hurt you. And you deserve so much more than that.”

“You don’t understand,” she countered. “You don’t know Zuko like I do. You weren’t there when I was. I know you think I’m insane for still believing in him, but I— I can’t let go of him, Katara. I know the Zuko I love is still in there somewhere, and I have to try and find it. For me and for him.”

Katara’s eyes were full of nothing but sympathy as she sighed — it was obvious she didn’t believe her words, but in true fashion she was still trying her best to be supportive.

“Okay. I don’t understand it, but… I don’t think I can change your mind.” Y/N chuckled sadly and nodded, Katara’s piercing gaze meeting her own once more. “It’s just… Why are you playing with fire when you know you’re going to get burned?”

And for once, Y/N didn’t have an answer for her friend.

~~~~~~~~~

The night went by quickly, which Y/N was thankful for. It meant that the nightmares didn’t last as long.

After a quick headcount to make sure no one had fallen off the pass overnight and an even quicker gathering of their things, they set off to finish their journey.

It went just as well as she had expected — a giant serpent, the namesake of the pass, had attacked them while crossing through an underwater section. Thankfully, she was able to aid Katara and Aang in defeating it with waterbending with no casualties

But in the wake of one disaster there was always another, and before Y/N knew it a baby had been born. She was mostly there for moral support — Katara had it all handled, and Y/N didn’t expect anything less.

But finally, they had made it across the pass, and they were so close to Ba Sing Se that she could almost smell the city air. Sadly, though, that meant it was time for them to part ways — Aang to find Appa, and Suki back to her warriors. After some sad but hopeful goodbyes with Aang, it was time to bid farewell to Suki.

“Are you sure you can’t travel a little longer with us?” Y/N questioned, apparently not above pleading to try and get the girl to stay. “You’re— you’re amazing, and we’d really love to have you with us.”

“I can’t even imagine what travelling with the Avatar would be like,” she smiled, causing Y/N to get her hopes up for just a moment before they fell back down. “But I can’t stay. I have to get back to the Kyoshi Warriors.”

Y/N sighed, her gaze falling slightly downcast. “I get that. I just really wish you could stay. Or that I could meet your warriors. You seriously don’t know how cool you are, Suki.”

“Well, if you’re ever in town on Kyoshi Island, find us. I’m sure we’ll be able to work something out and do you one better than just meeting them all,” she said with a grin. “I think it’d be pretty cool to have the first waterbending Kyoshi Warrior.”

Y/N was unable to prevent the heat rushing to her cheeks as she smiled shyly, once again averting eye contact. “That would be amazing. I’ll have to find my way back there after the war.”

Suki bumped shoulders with her, causing a startled laugh to spill from her lips. “We’d love to have you.”

“Wait, why does it sound like you’re saying goodbye to her?” Sokka questioned as he walked up to the two of them. Y/N winked at Suki and gestured at him with her head, walking off before Suki could protest to find Katara.

The conversation the two girls were sharing was an extremely thinly veiled excuse to eavesdrop on the lovebirds, and when they kissed Y/N actually had to hold back a scream.

Sokka deserved this. She knew how much he beat himself up over every little thing that went wrong, and it was about time he got to relax even for a moment. She only hoped that Suki would be in their corner of the world sooner rather than later.

What could she say? She was already fantasizing about life as a Kyoshi Warrior.

~~~~~~~~~

Although they had parted ways, they soon found themselves reunited with Aang to stop yet another Fire Nation threat.

“For the love of Kuruk,” Y/N murmured as she stared into the distance, her eyes wide at the sight of a large mechanical drill. “That was Ty Lee who just took down all those soldiers. And if she’s here, Mai and Azula are with her too. Guys, It’s one thing to stop this drill, it’s another thing to take those three down with it.”

“The question is, how do we do it?” Aang questioned.

“Why can nothing ever be easy?” Sokka lamented. His gaze remained trained on the drill for a moment before he realized theirs were on him. “Why are you all looking at me?”

“You’re the idea guy,” Aang said.

“Wait, so I’m the only one who can ever come up with a plan?” he protested. “That’s a lot of pressure!”

“And also the complaining guy,” Katara muttered, drawing a chuckle out from Y/N.

“Now that part I don’t mind,” Sokka admitted.

“Well, Sokka— you were a huge help in the North, and you figured out a way to defeat the Fire Nation during that eclipse at the library! Plus, there’s all that stuff that Katara told me you did before I joined.” She patted him on the back. “If anyone can figure out how to take that thing down, it’s you.”

He shrugged nonchalantly, his ego only slightly bolstered. “...okay. I think I can do it.”

“That’s the spirit!” she said with a smile.

Unfortunately, that smile faded as a young guard came running up to the wall. “Excuse me, Avatar and friends — I’ve heard that you’ve dealt with that… that pink girl down there before.” They nodded and he continued. “It would do us a great deal of help if you could come down and look at our injured soldiers, then.”

Y/N and Katara nodded in unison and started to follow the guard, the remaining three trailing after them. They ended up inside the wall, in what looked like an infirmary of sorts with all the cots and soldiers lying around, and the two waterbenders exchanged looks.

“You know what to do?” Katara asked.

Y/N hummed in acknowledgment, and they both knelt down next to separate cots. “This definitely looks like Ty Lee’s work,” she murmured as she bent water up from the pot and molded it over the man’s arm.

“What’s wrong with him?” the general questioned. “He doesn’t look injured.”

“His chi is blocked,” Katara explained. “Who did this to you?”

“Two girls ambushed us,” the soldier said, moving his arm as he regained feeling. “One of them hit me with a bunch of quick jabs and suddenly I couldn't earthbend anymore and I could barely move. Then she cartwheeled away.”

Katara sighed as she bent the water back into the pot. “You were right, Y/N. That was Ty Lee — she doesn’t look dangerous, but she knows the human body and its weak point. It’s like she takes you down from the inside.”

As if struck by lightning, Sokka lit up. “Oh, oh, oh! What you just said — that’s how we’re going to take down the drill; the same way Ty Lee took down all those earthbenders!”

“By hitting its pressure points!” Toph exclaimed with a grin.

The breakthrough brought a steely determination to Aang’s features as he looked out into the distance. “We’ll take it down from the inside.”

~~~~~~~~~

Like everything they did, it seemed so simple on paper. But now that she was actually inside the drill, it felt a lot more nerve wracking. Toph opted to stay outside where she could see and try to slow down the drill with the earth at her disposal, which left the four of them to somehow take it down from the inside.

Sokka led them through a hallway with a myriad of valves and pipes as he thought out loud. “I need a plan of this machine — some schematics that show what the inside looks like. Then we can find its weak points.”

“Where are we gonna get something like that?” Aang asked.

Sokka thought for a moment before he took his machete out and hacked a valve off a pipe. Y/N instinctively took a step back and shielded her face from the hot steam. “What are you doing?” she cried. “Someone’s gonna hear us!”

“That’s the point!” he exclaimed. “A machine this big needs engineers to run it, and when something breaks—”

“Someone will come down to fix it!” Katara finished with a smile at Aang, a sentiment the boy returned happily.

It was surprisingly easy to take down the engineer once he arrived — with a little bit of frozen mist on Katara’s end, they had the plans they needed. Sokka’s expertise combined with the blueprints got them to the beginning of the outer shell.

“Wow,” Sokka muttered. “It looks a lot thicker than it does in the plans. We’re gonna have to work pretty hard to cut through that.”

Katara crossed her arms. “What’s this ‘we’ stuff? The three of us are gonna have to do all the work.”

“Look, I’m the plan guy!” Sokka explained with a gesture to himself. “You three are the ‘cut up stuff with waterbending’ guys. Together, we’re Team Avatar!”

Katara and Aang looked wholly unamused while Y/N chuckled. “Team Avatar. I like it.”

“Thank you,” he smiled. “At least someone appreciates my genius.”

“Tui’s gills, why do you have to keep boosting his ego?” Katara complained. “Let’s just get this done before it gets worse.”

The three of them got in position — Katara and Aang on opposite sides so they could pass the stream of water between them, and Y/N making the point of the triangle to work on the other side on her own. They were hoping it would be more efficient being able to cut through both sides at the same time, but it was proving to be much more difficult than they had imagined — halfway through the three of them were already exhausted.

By some feat of strength they were able to completely cut through the brace, but their hard work didn’t pay off in quite the way they had imagined — when the beam only shifted a few inches she groaned.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” she breathed as she wiped sweat off of her forehead.

“At this rate,” Katara paused to inhale deeply, “we won’t do enough damage before the drill reaches the wall.”

“I don’t know how many more of those I have in me,” Aang said sadly.

A large creak suddenly rang throughout the large chamber, and they all looked up for the source.

“Did you hear that?” Sokka asked, already backing up to make an exit. “We took it down! We gotta get out of here, fast!”

Just as they reached the door on the other side, a crackle followed by the sound of a man’s voice dashed their hopes. “Congratulations, crew. The drill has made contact with the wall of Ba Sing Se. Start the countdown to victory!”

A collective silence hung in the air between them, the threat now even more imminent as their situation sunk in. Mai and Ty Lee had proven effective in taking down any Earth Kingdom threat posed at them, and despite Toph’s skill they knew she couldn’t take down something like this on their own.

They either had to figure out a way to destroy this drill, or the Fire Nation was going to make it into the city.

Sokka ran back over to the brace and pushed against it, putting all his strength into the feat but to no avail. “Come…. on! Move!”

Katara started pacing around in a small circle, crossing her arms again as she tried to think of something. “This is bad. This is really bad.”

“Sokka, that’s not going to work!” Y/N didn’t mean to snap, but the grinding of metal on metal combined with her nervousness got to her. She sighed and ran her hand over her face. “I— I’m sorry. But it’s still not going to work.”

He groaned as he leaned against the brace. “We’re putting everything we have into busting these things, but it’s taking too long!”

Suddenly, Aang jumped up from the ground with stars in his eyes. “Maybe we don’t need to cut all the way through! Toph — she’s been teaching me that you shouldn’t put a hundred percent of your energy in any one strike. Sokka, get in a fighting stance.”

Sokka complied and as Aang talked through his points, he demonstrated it on Sokka. “You've got to be quick and accurate. Hit a series of points and break your opponent's stance. And when he's reeling back, you deliver the final blow. His own weight becomes his downfall, literally.”

As Sokka fell over from the attack, Katara lit up. “So we just need to weaken the braces instead of cutting all the way through—”

“—then I can go to the top of this thing and deliver the final blow!” Aang finished.

Y/N helped Sokka up from the ground, his spirits not dampened at all. “Then boom! This whole thing goes down!”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Y/N asked, flexing her fingers to refresh them for all the bending she was going to have to do. “Aang, Katara and I can handle the braces. Focus on getting up to the top before anyone sees you.”

He nodded and they all met each other with determined eyes. “Everyone inside that wall, the whole world — they’re all counting on us.”

“Here, take this. You need this more than I do. ” Katara took her waterskin off and handed it to Aang. “Good luck. And be careful.”

Y/N noticed a slight blush on her cheeks and she had to hold back her smile. That was definitely something she was going to tease her friend about later — when they weren’t trying to stop the Fire Nation from breaking into Ba Sing Se.

“I will,” he assured. Aang slung the strap of the waterskin around his shoulder and took off, and Y/N and Katara got to work breaking through the rest of the braces.

With the knowledge that they only had to cut through half of each column and the revitalization that came from having a plan, their work went by much quicker. Just when they finished the final brace, it all went wrong.

“Good work, Team Avatar!” Sokka cheered. “Now we— Y/N, duck!”

She didn’t question Sokka as she immediately dropped to the ground, something she was immensely thankful for as a blast of blue fire seared past her. Her eyes snapped up to the source of the attack and narrowed in recognition.

“Of course they’re here,” she growled as she pulled herself back up. “We gotta go, now!”

Katara and Sokka nodded and they all started running. Bringing up the rear, Y/N was able to hear Azula’s words right before they split off into an intersection:

“Follow them! I’m going to find the Avatar.”

Sure enough, when she allowed a glance back, Mai and Ty Lee were closing in on them. She flicked open the cap of her waterskin and bent some out, managing to freeze it at just the right moment to block the incoming daggers from Mai. Still running, she melted it quickly and let it fall to the ground before freezing it again, creating some ice on the ground that would hopefully give them a few more seconds of leeway.

“That should give us some time!” she yelled as they turned a corner, finally turning her attention back to the path in front of them. “Any idea how we’re gonna get out of this thing?”

“Maybe!” Sokka yelled back, slowing to a stop as they came to a dead end, a large hatch the only thing at their disposal. He started tugging on the wheel in an attempt to open it, and when Y/N joined in they were able to wrench it open.

“Slurry pipeline?” Katara frowned as she read the sign on the wall and looked at Sokka. “What does that mean?”

“It’s rock and water mixed together,” he explained as they looked into the rushing liquid underneath the hatch. “It means it’s our way out!”

Katara nodded and climbed in, Sokka following close after. The sound of metal footsteps got closer and closer, and Y/N ducked inside just as Mai’s knives clanked against the hatch. Never before had she been so happy to be floating in a stream of slurry.

The rest of their mission went by surprisingly easy — at least, on their end. All it took was some waterbending — earthbending, when Toph joined them — and encouragement from Sokka (though unappreciated by Katara). Whatever magic Aang was working at the top of the drill had done its job, because soon enough the drill had collapsed in on itself.

And now, they had reunited on the top of the wall overlooking the sunset. After the chaos that had been their day, it was nice to just relax for even a moment. And there was no better way to do so than with her friends.

“I just want to say, good effort out there, Team Avatar!” Sokka exclaimed as he threw an arm around Y/N’s shoulder.

“Enough with the ‘Team Avatar’ stuff,” Katara said dryly. “No matter how many times you say it, it’s not going to catch on.”

“I like it, Sokka,” Y/N smiled. “I’ve liked it this whole time.”

“You always appreciate my genius, Y/N,” he mused. “That’s why I appreciate you.” She laughed and leaned her head against his shoulder as he continued to list off names.

“How about… the Boomeraang squad! Eh? See, it’s good because it’s boomerang, and it has Aang in it—”

“Yeah Sokka,” Toph interrupted. “We got it.”

Aang grinned and scratched his head. “I kinda like that one.”

“The Aang Gang. Ooh, the Fearsome Fivesome!”

“You’re crazy,” Toph muttered as she walked away.

“Wait, Sokka—” Y/N pulled away from him and held up her pointer finger. “Aang Gang — what if we combine it, so it’s just the Gaang? But still with Aang’s name?”

And at that moment, Sokka looked more proud than ever. “Oh, you— you are a genius.”

“Oh, spirits,” Katara groaned. “Why do you insist on encouraging him?”

“You’re just jealous of our name-making abilities,” Sokka said haughtily.

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “You two are completely ridiculous, you know that? Let’s just get into the city before the trains stop running.”

Y/N and Sokka winked at each other as they all started walking, unable to keep the smile off of her face. She always thought it was amazing — they went through insane things every day, but at the end of it all she was always able to smile because of them. And as her gaze drifted towards the city in the distance, she hoped it would hold true.

She had no idea what Ba Sing Se had in store for her.

-

shit is gonna happen next chapter so i hope you all are READY bc im not

perm tags: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77

atla tags: @marianne1806 @brown-eyed-thang @akiris

ehfar tags: @chandies-sideblog @zacatecanaaaa @anzanity @randomthingssss @escapingthoughtsandsecrets @shanksfav @shephard17895 @ilovespideyyy @carisi-sonny @selfship-mishaps @i-belong-in-fandoms @ilistentotayswifttocope @i-make-questionable-choices @3leni

[chudleycanonficfest]

The Switch

Day 10, Story #2 is by @adenei

Title: The Switch

Author: adenei

Pairing: George Weasley/Angelina Johnson

Prompt: First Date

Rating: T

TW: Mentions of character death

***********

The shop is quiet as George locks the door to his office. It’s been a month since the grand re-opening of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, and the steady thrum of customers has put the business back on track to where it was before the untimely closure due to the war. Things are different, of course, with Fred not being there, but George’s family and friends have stepped up and offered more support than George knows what to do with—not that he wanted it in the first place.

  In retrospect, he is thankful for his family and friends, Ron and Angelina in particular. They helped him put down the bottle and get his life back on track. 

  “Fred wouldn’t want this.” Angelina had told him late one night while she and Lee were staying over in his flat that smelled of days-old Firewhisky and hadn’t been cleaned since before they’d gone into hiding at Aunt Muriel’s.

  “How would Fred feel if you let everything the two of you worked for go to shit? How would you feel if the tables were turned and if it was—” Ron had yelled as he snatched the half-full bottle away from his brother and dumped it down the drain. The emotion was raw as the words caught in his throat, the end of the phrase hanging between them like the weight of a bludger pulling them down and grounding them.

  At first, he’d been pissed, but they were right. Fred wouldn’t have wanted George to resort to any of that. And even though he’d been begrudging in accepting help to begin with, George knew he wouldn’t have gotten the shop up and running as swiftly as he did without everyone’s help. The hole in his heart still ached, and not a moment went by where he didn’t miss his brother, but finding a new stride in this post-war life is exactly the push George needed to not only move on but also honor and make Fred proud.

  As George makes his way onto the main floor of the shop, a figure standing behind the counter makes him pause. He’d recognize that silhouette anywhere, the unrequited crush from his Hogwarts days now thrust back in his life, as if to taunt him of just another thing he’ll never have.

  “You’re still here?” The exhaustion is apparent in George’s voice after a ten-hour day.

  “Yeah, I wanted to make sure you didn’t stay on and try to do all the inventory yourself again like last week.” Angelina runs her fingers over the various displays of fireworks that are locked away behind the checkout area as she lightly teases George.

  “Nah, I learned from that mistake. Besides, don’t you have your regular job that you need to get back to? Now that things are running smoothly again, we’ll be able to manage without the extra help. Especially once things die down after the first.”

  “I don’t mind spending a few hours here after work, you know that. Things’ll start to pick up again soon once the Quidditch season gets underway, I’m sure, but right now, my corresponding duties are light. Call me crazy, but I’ve enjoyed spending more time with you lately. Almost makes me feel like we’re back in Hogwarts, you know? When real life and responsibilities seemed so far away.”

  A chuckle escapes George’s lips. It was true, all this time they’d been spending together, especially with Lee and sometimes Alicia, almost made everything feel right again.

  “Well, we can hang out in other places, too. I swear I don’t live at Wheeze’s.”

  “George, you live upstairs.”

“Ah, bugger off.”

  “I’m only teasing.”

  “And all I’m saying is if you want to do something outside these walls, all you have to do is ask.”

  “Are you hungry, then?”

  A genuine laugh bubbles up into George’s throat at Angelina’s brazenness. “Bloody hell, woman! Impatient much?”

  His outburst brings a smile to Angelina’s face, brightening the dark circles under her eyes from the extra hours spent helping out. 

  “You’re the one who said to ask. So, what do you say? Fancy a drink and a meal down the street? It’s late enough that the Leaky shouldn’t be too busy.”

  “I s’pose it couldn’t hurt. Beats making something for myself, that’s for sure.”

  “Great, let’s go.” 

  Angelina walks around the counter and reaches out to take George’s hand in hers. An electric shock shoots up his arm from the point of contact, and George has to stop himself from pulling away from the surprise of it all. A memory flashes through his mind of twinkling lights amongst a silver backdrop in the Great Hall all those years ago. He sees two figures dancing and twirling to the music of the Weird Sisters, one with flaming red hair much like his own and the other whose sapphire gown swished against the travertine floor. The memory brings a reminiscent smile to his lips as Angelina tugs him out the door.

  When they reach the Leaky, the pair settles into a quiet booth in the back of the establishment, away from curious eyes. It’s late in the evening for a meal, which is made evident by the empty tables and chairs scattered throughout the pub. Only a handful of patrons litter the bar, allowing Tom to be attentive to their needs. 

  George takes a large swig when the barkeep returns with Butterbeers, and they place their orders.

  “No shot of Firewhisky tonight then?” 

  George shakes his head. “I told you, Ange, I was serious about stopping. I can’t use the bottle as a crutch for grief anymore.”

  Angelina nods as she observes him intently. George can feel the heat of her gaze trailing over him as he takes another sip from his drink. 

  “You’re staring.”

  “Sorry, I was just thinking.”

  “Oh? And here I was thinking I was mesmerizing you with my dashing good looks,” George quips. 

  Angelina smiles, and for a moment, George thinks he sees a blush on her cheeks before she recovers.  For all the time they spent together during Hogwarts, and more recently in the months following the war, George finds it odd that they’re struggling with conversation now.

  “Knut for your thoughts?” asks George.

  “Just that it’s been nice reconnecting with you. And Lee. Circumstances are shit, of course, but with my hectic schedule during Quidditch season, I don’t get much time for socializing and friends. I even had to drop my registration for the semi-pro league I was hoping to play for.”

  George nods, and his stomach twists as he processes her words. That would mean she’d be leaving soon once things got busy. He’s overcome with the urge to see if her job is something she’s passionate about.

  “Do you love it? Your job, I mean.”

  “Well, yeah, if I can’t play professionally, the next best thing is writing and commentating. Plus, I’ve gotten to see the world all on the Ministry’s dime. Can’t complain there…”

  “But is it something you see yourself doing for a long time?” George presses. He doesn’t mean to sound judgmental, but he needs to know if it’s even worth it to pursue.

  “Well, after graduation, it seemed like the right fit. The opening was there, my parents were encouraging me to see the world, and I didn’t have anything tying me down. Honestly, I think my parents thought it was safer for me to travel, especially with the war on...”

  And what about now? 

  George is nodding his head up and down while the question ricochets in his mind. He opens his mouth, gathering the courage to allow the four words to escape his mouth when Angelina interrupts him.

  “Well, there are some openings that would allow me to stay in London that have just come up. They’re looking for commentators and stats writers for the matches played in the Kensington stadium. So, if you needed an extra hand at the shop, I could stay—”

  “—I don’t want you to stay for the shop. If you want to travel the world, you should. I doubt you’ve seen all the world has to offer in two seasons.”

  No! What are you thinking! 

  George can almost hear Fred chastising him for his rash response. It doesn’t come out the way he meant it to sound, and he knows he messed up given the crestfallen look on Ange’s face.

  “I only meant—”

  “I-I’ve actually already put in for the London job, George. And I promise it’s not because of the shop. Lee promised to help me with commentating, and this way I can play again. I start training next week. You know how much I missed playing Quidditch, and now that England is safer, I can stay and have the best of both worlds.” 

  The longer she goes on, it feels like she’s rambling and going on with a laundry list of pre-prepared reasons, which doesn’t sound like the Angelina he knows. It’s almost like she’s trying to convince herself that those are the reasons she’s staying, and not for anything else.

  “Oh.”

  Ange rolls her eyes. “Don’t worry, I know you and Fred always used to think you two were the center of the universe, but I promise I didn’t choose to stay just for you.”

  Her voice is light, and she’s smiling, but George can’t help but sense something else lingering beneath the surface. Disappointment, perhaps? Or maybe he’s just reading into things too much. Hoping something might be between them that really isn’t. He forces himself to stop overthinking and simply enjoy her company instead.

  “Well, I, for one, am happy you’re staying. We’ll be able to get together more often, and it’ll almost feel like our Hogwarts days. Maybe I’ll even be able to convince you and Alicia to test new products again.”

  Angelina nearly spits out her Butterbeer at George’s joke as Tom approaches with their meal. He knows he’s not fooling either of them; the irony is that the girls were always two steps ahead of him and his brother. They were the only two in their year who managed to avoid becoming test subjects to all of their prototypes.

  The two fall into more reminiscing as they tuck into their fish and chips. George doesn’t realize how ravenous he is until he starts eating, and he’s even more grateful for Ange’s suggestion now.

  As they are polishing off the remainder of their baskets, the topic of conversation falls on the Yule Ball, as Ange remembers how Fred had tossed the wad of paper at her.

  “It was romantic, wasn’t it?” George jokes as he remembers his brother’s ridiculous attempt at asking a girl out. “Still don’t know why you said yes to that tosser.”

  To this day, he’d always resented his brother for drawing his wand first and asking Ange to the ball. Of course, George knew it was all meant to be a bluff. It was Fred’s attempt to get his brother to buck up the courage and ask Angelina for himself. 

  George remembers it vividly. “Just ask her. What’s the worst she’ll say? No? Fine, if you won’t do it, I will.”

  When Fred had gotten Ange’s attention, George had no idea what to expect. They were usually well in tune with each other, and George could anticipate Fred’s moves, but when his brother had asked Angelina himself, it took George by surprise.

  “We were getting down to the wire, weren’t we?” Angelina interrupts George’s thoughts. “No one else had asked me, so I figured it was better to go with one twin than none at all.”

  George chooses the wrong moment to polish off the last of his chips. The fried potato catches in his throat, and he coughs it up, all while reaching for the last dredges of his Butterbeer to clear things out.

  Did she just say it was better to go with one twin than none at all? But then that would mean… 

  “Ange, don’t tell me you were waiting for me to ask you.”

  She shrugs and averts her eyes from his gaze. “I mean, I wouldn’t have been disappointed if you’d asked, let’s put it that way.”

  After this revelation, George burst into laughter. To anyone else in the near vicinity, it probably sounded like he should be admitted to the Janus Thickney Ward. He hasn’t laughed this hard since he and Fred were able to pull off a prank on Muriel shortly after arriving at her Manor at the end of March.

  “You—Fred—I—me—” He can’t seem to formulate a coherent string of thoughts until Angelina goes from amused to offended.

  “Honestly, George, I didn’t realize it was that funny. Forget I said anything.” She checks her watch and gathers her bag. “Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all. It’s getting late, and clearly the thought of the two of us together appalls—”

  She’s in the process of standing up when George sobers from the onslaught of irony and reaches out to grab her wrist.

  “Ange, wait. I’m not laughing at that. Just—just give me a chance to explain, yeah?” He pulls her into the bench beside him, where she lands on her bottom harder than she needed to as she lets out a loud huff of indignation.

  “Fred never intended to go with you when he asked.”

  “Excuse me?” Her eyebrows have raised so high on her face that George is surprised they haven’t gotten lost in her braids.

  “No, what I mean is, he’d been pestering me to ask you since the ball was announced. He knew I had a thing for you—obviously—and was being supportive.”

  It felt weird for George to admit that he fancied Angelina in school now, after so many years of keeping it close to his chest. Fred and Lee were the only two who ever knew.

  “So, what are you trying to say, then?”

  “When Fred asked you...I was shocked, too. I didn’t realize he’d already devised a plan that I didn’t cotton on to right away.”

  The look on Angelina’s face transformed from defensive to shock to comprehension, all in the span of a few seconds. “Don’t tell me…”

  “Being an identical twin has—er, had—its benefits.”

  “So.. are you trying to tell me that I didn’t go to the ball with Fred?”

  “Nope.”

  “And at the end of the night, when I kissed Fred in an attempt to make you jealous, I was actually kissing you all along?”

  “Sorry if it was disappointing.” The wisecrack escapes George’s lips before he can stop it.

  Half of him is expecting Angelina to slap him for the ‘switcheroo’ that he and Fred pulled, and in fairness, they deserved it. What if Ange actually had fancied Fred, and they’d pulled one over on her?

  But to his surprise, Angelina does the opposite. She leans in and kisses George right then and there. The same shock he felt when holding her hand earlier ignites within him once more as he lets his body take control. He allows himself to get lost in the feel of her lips, realizing that it’s the first time he’s truly felt like himself since Fred’s passing. He even dares to let himself think he’s found happiness again.

  Eventually, George pulls away as his lungs begin to burn from the lack of oxygen. They remain close, foreheads touching as he offers a weak smile. 

  “Y’know, I was going to tell you it was me at the end of the night, but how could I when I thought I was going to break your heart when you thought you’d kissed Fred?”

  “You’re insufferable, you know that?” 

  “Yeah, but you can’t argue with sixteen-year-old George’s logic, can you?”

  Ange rolls her eyes and leans back. George misses the contact as soon as it’s gone.

  “What do you say we get out of here?” Ange raises her eyebrows in question as if tempting him to follow when she scoots out from the bench a second time.

  George pulls enough money to cover their meals out of his wallet and leaves it on the table before scooching out behind her. He pays no mind to the remaining customers as he pulls Angelina back into him and whispers in her ear,

  “I’d say we’ve wasted five years of pointless pining to wait any longer.”

[morganaspendragonss]

holly's august extravaganza day 17: you and me (moving through this world as a two-man team)

for both my incredible birthday twin jenny (@laelipoo) and a little bit for myself! i hope you are having a wonderful, wonderful day and i wish you all the love in the world. i'm so glad we became friends and i cannot tell you how glad i am for our conversations 🥰🥰🥰

many, many, many thanks to jenny as well for helping me out with the plot!

ao3 | 3.1k | firefighter carlos, hurt/comfort, pining, developing relationship, major character injury (two of them 😌)

TK does not have a crush on the 126's latest hire.

Carlos Reyes: an Austin local, an incredible firefighter, and—objectively speaking—the most beautiful man TK has ever laid eyes on. Which is, in fact, the entire point; TK has eyes and, yes, he will use them to sneak a look or two when he’s suddenly sharing space with a man who looks like a Greek god.

That does not mean he has a crush, Paul.

(and, sure, maybe he does sometimes dream about how soft Carlos’s lips look and the soft blush he gets when he laughs and those little flecks of gold in his eyes, but he’s only human)

(how TK knows about the gold in Carlos’s eyes is none of anybody’s business)

The thing about Carlos Reyes is that he isn’t only stupidly hot; he’s also just plain nice. TK can’t even make up a flimsy excuse to keep his distance. Carlos is, quite literally, perfect.

He shares recipes and book recommendations with Paul, he spars with Marjan, he discusses superheroes with Mateo, and Judd has had nothing but good things to say since before Carlos even joined them. Apparently they’d worked together a lot before the explosion, when Carlos was with the 116, and he’s ‘one of the best damn firefighters’ Judd has ever seen.

He even makes time to hang with the paramedics, which...isn’t a new development, exactly. But it is recent, and TK is willing to bet they’d still be pretty divided if Tim hadn’t suddenly transferred back to Maryland and he hadn’t taken the leap to be a full paramedic.

Even after that… His friends were hardly going to abandon him after he switched, but Nancy had still only been semi-included at best. She’d called him out about it during their first week working together, but fixing it had been a slow process.

Until Carlos came along, that is. Excluding Judd, they all regularly hang out at his place now, and Nancy’s inclusion had never even been a question. Safe to say, Carlos has charmed everyone in the firehouse, including both captains, and the worst part is, he doesn’t seem to realise he’s doing it.

He’s perfect, from his freakishly toned body to his infuriatingly sweet personality to his incredible skills in the field, and TK does not have a crush, goddammit!

One morning about three weeks after Carlos’s arrival, TK is greeted in the firehouse by the sound of a long, beautiful laugh coming from the kitchen. Three weeks is an embarrassingly short amount of time to admit that he’s memorised everything about him, but he instantly recognises the noise as coming from Carlos, even if he can’t see him yet.

He saunters into the kitchen, where Carlos is standing with Paul, and leans up against the counter. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Carlos turns with a winning smile and holds out a steaming mug of coffee, clearly freshly made even though TK only got in two minutes ago.

He blinks. “How—” Then, taking in the slight pinkness to Carlos’s cheeks, “Are you seriously offering me your own coffee, Reyes?”

Carlos shrugs, forcing the mug into TK’s hands. “I only just made it so technically it belongs to anyone, and I can always make another,” he says. “Besides, you look like you could use it more than me.”

His grin has TK narrowing his eyes and stubbornly refusing to drink even though Carlos is right—he really, really needs it.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that was an insult.”

“Who says you do know better?”

TK splutters, momentarily left speechless in the face of Carlos’s smile and the twinkle in those goddamn eyes. He turns to Paul for help, but Paul...has disappeared. Huh. TK honestly hadn't noticed him go.

He shakes his head and looks back to Carlos, only to be stunned silent again by the way his smile has softened into something else, something more.

TK’s heart skips a beat or two and he swallows, staring down into Carlos’s coffee. “Whatever, Reyes,” he mutters.

It was too late for a witty comeback anyway.

Carlos’s laugh follows him out of the kitchen, and TK wonders when, exactly, he let himself fall this far.

*

“Earth to TK? Hello?”

TK is rudely snapped back to reality by one Nancy Gillian’s hand waving violently in his face. He scowls at her, to which she responds with an eye roll.

“Stop drooling over your man and come help me with inventory.”

“I’m not drooling,” TK argues, following her over to the rig. “And he’s not my man.”

“Right,” Nancy drawls, folding her arms over her chest as she leans against the ambulance. “So you’re just going to deny that weird energy around you two that makes the rest of us feel like we’re creeping on something?”

“Exactly.” TK nods emphatically, then frowns. “Wait, what?”

Nancy casts her eyes heavenward. “You know,” she says, “you’re a lot of things, Strand, but I hadn’t pegged you for oblivious.”

TK’s next words are reflexive, said without thought for the consequences—the story of his life, really.

“I’m not oblivious!”

The grin spreading over Nancy’s face rams home just how much he’s fucked up with those three words. TK drops his head in his hands and groans, unable and unwilling to look Nancy in the eye.

“Not a word,” he warns, which Nancy appears to respect, for now. TK is well aware that there will be words—several of them—later, whether he wants them or not.

The thing is, he really isn’t oblivious. He knows perfectly well what Nancy is talking about and he has often fantasised about all the things he’d do to Carlos given half a chance. TK likes Carlos, way more than just in the physical sense, and he’s pretty sure that Carlos likes him right back. It would be so easy to start something between them and, god, TK wants to. He just… He can’t.

One year—that’s what he promised himself back in New York. One year on his own to sort his head out and figure out how he fits back into the world after the overdose. Granted, his sobriety anniversary is only a couple of months away now, but he refuses to give up on his promise, especially when he’s so close.

Maybe in a couple months, if Carlos hasn’t gotten bored of something that’s clearly going nowhere.

But not now.

*

“He did not ask me out!”

“He totally did, dude, and you know it. You want to say yes, I can tell.”

“No, I don’t. I—”

“Children,” Tommy interrupts from the back of the ambulance. They’re heading to a callout, and Nancy has not let up the entire way about something TK is certain never actually happened. “Either of you want to enlighten me on what the argument is about this time?”

“TK’s too chicken to go out with Carlos,” Nancy jumps in, before TK can stop her.

“I am not!” he protests. “Plus, he wasn’t asking me out, he said we should go over to his place for dinner sometime, which Carlos does all the time. So there.”

“Strand, you are not this dense,” Nancy snarks, probably rolling her eyes. “His exact words were, ‘You should come over sometime’.”

“We were all there! It was obviously the plural you.”

“Oh my god—”

“Alright!” Tommy sighs wearily. “Nancy, can we keep from provoking TK until we’re back at the firehouse and he’s no longer driving?”

“Ha!” TK exclaims, but Tommy’s not done.

“TK, if I weren’t your captain, I’d be telling you that Nancy is right and you should pull your head out of your ass before it’s too late, understand?”

Now it’s Nancy’s turn to be triumphant as TK struggles to form a coherent response. Thankfully, he’s saved from further torment by them finally pulling up at the scene—a warehouse where one of the workers had become trapped after parts of the upper level walkway had broken and fallen. Apparently, the falling metal had caused some of the machinery to malfunction, turning the call from simple to beyond complicated in a matter of minutes.

“TK, grab your turnout gear and your bag; I’m sending you in with them,” Tommy informs him as soon as they’re out of the rig. “Normally, we’d just talk the firefighters through it over radio, but given your training it’ll be quicker and safer for you to deal with our patient.”

TK grins; he’s missed the adrenaline rush of running into emergencies more than he can say. “Got it, Cap.”

“Maybe try and look a little less happy about a serious injury, too.”

“Copy that.”

*

The noise when they enter the warehouse is deafening, an ugly screeching cutting right through TK’s skull.

“Shouldn’t they have shut the machines off?” he shouts, fighting to be heard.

“Apparently they can’t,” Judd calls back. “Something wrong with the control panel, I don’t know exactly what.”

TK groans—just what they need. The sound is lost in the din, but Carlos still looks over and gives him a sympathetic grin, shrugging in a ‘what can you do’ motion. TK can’t help but grin back, the mere sight of Carlos easing the annoyance he feels and the headache already beginning to build behind his eyes.

Their patient, when they reach him, is pinned under a large, heavy-looking sheet of metal. He’s bleeding from a gash on his temple and his skin is worryingly pale, to the extent that TK can tell even from a distance. He jogs to the patient’s side and kneels down, pressing his fingers against his neck.

“Cap, I have a pulse,” he reports into his radio after a few seconds. “But he’s unconscious with a head wound, and I think there are probably injuries I can’t see yet. Possible spinal damage, but I can’t tell until we’ve got this metal off him.”

“Copy that,” Captain Vega says. “Get ready to run a line; he’s gonna need it as soon as he’s free.”

TK nods and moves to secure a c-collar around his neck. “We need to cut this thing off of him,” he says, addressing the team. “Quickly, but carefully.”

Judd steps forward, brandishing the saw. He hands TK a couple of spare turnouts and kneels on the patient’s other side. “Couple of you need to cover him, and yourselves.”

TK doesn’t even have to ask before Carlos appears next to him, taking one of the turnouts from him. He smiles gratefully before arranging himself to provide maximum protection to all three of them as Judd starts working on the metal. The vibrations from the saw are unpleasant, and TK dreads to think what effect it’s having on the already unstable machinery, but it’s the only option they have to get their patient free.

Fortunately, everything seems to go off without a hitch, and soon the team are able to remove the metal. TK immediately gets to work, feeling for any damage. As he suspected, there’s a pretty large gash on the man’s leg which is bleeding badly, though thankfully it seems to have missed any arteries. He also seems to have a broken wrist, but he should heal.

TK quickly wraps his leg, then gets Carlos and Judd to help move him onto the spine board. It feels like, for once, the call has gone as smoothly as possible, and TK allows himself a breath of relief as they prep to get the guy outside to the ambulance.

Naturally, that’s when everything goes to hell.

The machine closest to them lets out a threatening groan and shudders before there’s a loud roar and it explodes. On instinct, TK folds himself over the patient as shrapnel rains down on them, and he sees Carlos doing the same in his periphery.

The downpour seems to last forever, but eventually it slows and comes to a stop. TK cautiously lifts his head, his heart pounding, and sags in relief as it seems that the worst is over.

They need to get out of here, now.

He stands, a brief stab of pain running through his back—probably because of his awkward position over the patient—and turns to Carlos, reaching to offer him a hand up.

Only to see Carlos’s face tight with agony, and then the cause—a jagged piece of shrapnel running right through his hand.

“Carlos,” TK breathes, horrified. Carlos looks up at him, his breathing carefully measured and his eyes wide, and TK drops back to his knees, reaching out for him. “It’s okay, I’ve got you, don’t worry.”

Carlos swallows and nods, his eyes squeezing tight. TK’s heart rate skyrockets, and he’s barely able to keep his cool as he signals to the others to get their first patient out of the warehouse.

“Cap, the team are bringing him out, but we have a problem.”

“Talk to me, Strand, what’s going on?”

“It—It’s Carlos.” TK breathes out shakily and takes a moment to steady himself before continuing, “It’s not serious, but some of the machinery broke apart and some shrapnel impaled his hand. I’ve got to stabilise the shard before we come out to you.”

“Alright, but hurry. I don’t want you guys in there for longer than necessary.”

“Copy.”

Stabilising the shrapnel with rolls of gauze and wrapping Carlos’s hand should be a matter of course—it’s an easy process that TK could probably do in his sleep. But this is Carlos, so his damn hands won’t stop shaking and he almost fumbles and drops his supplies.

He manages though, and soon he’s helping Carlos up, instructing him to hold his injured hand above his heart. Carlos sends him a wobbly smile, which ends up turning out to be more of a grimace, but it’s a comfort nonetheless. Things could have gone so much worse today; TK could have even lost him, and he would have never been able to—

But that’s not important. Carlos is okay, or he will be, and they still have plenty of time to figure out whatever this is between them.

Everything will be okay.

TK’s back and side twinge again as they make their way out, but he brushes it off, too focused on getting Carlos to the hospital as fast as possible. Tommy shakes her head as they make their way over, her eyebrows raised despite the concern clearly in her expression.

“Never a peaceful moment with you, Strand, is it?” she asks dryly, hissing as she inspects Carlos’s wound.

“In my defence, Cap,” he says, more at ease now that they’re safe, “it’s not me who’s injured this time.”

Tommy hums, then directs Carlos into the back of the rig, jumping in after him. “Get back here, TK. Nancy’s driving.”

She has a teasing look in her eyes that instantly makes TK suspicious, but he moves to comply, shrugging off his turnout coat as he does. The movement hurts, which is weird, but he thinks nothing of it.

At least, until Tommy’s eyes go wide and she stands from her seat, holding her hands out towards him. “TK, do not move,” she instructs, her eyes firmly fixed on his right side.

TK frowns, then follows her gaze down, and— Oh.

His grey undershirt is stained with blood, and it’s difficult to miss the large piece of metal sticking out of his side. He has no idea how he missed it, but now that he knows, the pain slams into him full force, causing him to stagger.

“Oh,” he gasps, eloquently.

Then, his legs buckle and the world goes black.

*

TK wakes up to a steady beeping sound, which only exacerbates his pounding headache. He groans, scrunching his face up, before slowly peeling his eyes open, almost slamming them shut again after getting an eyeful of obnoxiously bright fluorescents.

“You’re awake,” a voice says, sounding surprised, then the lights suddenly dim, the room lit by the gentle glow of a lamp. TK sighs in relief and shifts to look at his saviour.

It’s Carlos.

“You… You’re here,” TK states, confused. His gaze drifts down Carlos’s body and lands on the white bandages around his hand, the memories of the warehouse suddenly hitting him all at once. “Shit, you— How are you?”

Carlos shakes his head and comes to sit in the chair by TK’s bed. “I can’t believe you’re the one asking me that.”

“I’m a paramedic, it’s my job.”

“Not when you’re the one in the hospital bed,” Carlos counters, sighing. “If you must know, I’m fine. They gave me some pretty good drugs, so…” He shrugs, and TK can’t help but laugh, which proves to be a very bad idea.

His side lights up, an unnecessary reminder that TK is very much not on the good drugs, and he moans softly, slowly settling back in the bed. “I hate you,” he mumbles, eyes closed.

“You love me,” Carlos says, and TK’s heart seizes in his chest.

The silence after his words is deafening, so TK forces himself to crack his eyes open enough to look at him. Carlos is frozen in his chair, biting his lip hard, and he looks like he either wants to bolt or be swallowed by the earth.

TK thinks he should probably be feeling the same. They’ve been dancing around this issue for weeks now, and he’d thought he had it under control. That he could last that little bit longer until his one year was up; that he could ignore these feelings that have been steadily growing since he first laid eyes on Carlos.

It was a hopeless endeavour; he recognises that now. TK remembers the fear he felt when Carlos was injured back at the warehouse, the desperation for him to be better, and now with his own injury…

He could have lost this chance before he ever got it, and TK isn’t about to let it slip through his fingers now. He reaches out and takes Carlos’s good hand, startling him into meeting TK’s eyes.

“Yeah,” TK whispers, just loud enough for Carlos to hear him. “I think I do.”

The smile Carlos gives him lights up the room, and he doesn’t waste any time in leaning down to kiss TK. And it’s… It’s everything TK had hoped and imagined it would be and more. It’s soft and sweet and gentle and perfect, and he never wants it to end.

But end it does, though Carlos doesn’t go far. TK smiles at him, squeezing his hand with all the strength he can muster.

“That’s a yes, by the way,” he says.

Carlos frowns. “What?”

TK’s smile widens and he flicks his eyebrows at Carlos. “To dinner. Or were you not asking me out after all?”

Carlos huffs a laugh, and the look in his eyes when they lock back onto TK’s melts his heart and makes his entire chest ache. “Does Friday work for you?”

He nods, tugging Carlos down for another kiss. “It’s a date.”

[i-growl-growl-growl]

Mafia NCT Reaction: Their crush is the new member

Reaction to mafia nct getting his crush as a new gang member when He thought you were just a ordinary person that he saw from time to time in the neighborhood but then he it’s introduced to you as your new mafia boss (sorry if u couldn’t understand very well 😂)

________________

Warnings: Mafia themes, dark themes, violent themes, controlling themes, 

________________

Taeyong

Taeyong wouldn’t be the most pleased about this development. He doesn’t want you to be at rist, that being said he likes the fact that now he can keep an eye on you. He also likes that he gets to boss you around now. You’ll likely see less field assignments, focused more on how to help from the base. The being said if you piss him off he might put you on an assignment that would rough you up some, but never anything lethal. 

“Are you really about to complain about the tasks I’ve assigned you Y/N? I could have you ruined in a moment, now be a good girl/boy and go run those numbers for me sweetheart.”

Taeil:

Taeil will be a protector over you in this world. He’ll test out your abilities personally, before hand picking your assignments based on your skills. He would never put you in a situation he wasn’t fully certain you could handle. Though you likely have his company either way, him calling it hands on training. Really though, he’s grooming you to be his partner, waiting for the right moment to ask you.

“You’re strong Y/N the type of person I want by my side in this world. So? What do you say? Run this town with me?”

Johnny:

Johnny is happy in some ways and anxious in others. He’s eager to show off his strength and power, to show you that he’s the best and you’d be lucky to have him. Knowing that he’d be very lucky to have you. He knows first hand though how dangerous this world could be though, and he doesn’t want to risk your safety.

“Fine, you want a task out Y/N? Then you can join me today. We’re doing money collections. You better only get out of the car with my permission though.”

Yuta:

Yuta was very upset by this news, his crush was so pure how could they be part of this world? Certainly there had to be a reason... He’d learn everything about your background to convince you to leave the mafia, all while trying to get you to stay with him. You know...purely for your safety of course.

“I want youout yes, but people could have already seen you with me Y/N. Even if you don’t do anything for us you could already have a target on your back. Which is why you have to stay with me now.”

Kun:

Kun would be very strict as your mafia boss and very poker faced, so you’d be confused as to why he has so many extra rules and requirements for you. No one else always had to wear a vest or reported straight to him, why was he making you jump through hoops? Until you finally confronted him about it, he said nothing.

“You’re important to me Y/N. I can’t let something happen to you because of some careless mistake.” 

Doyoung:

Doyoung thought it was a blessing, having you here as part of his mafia. He would never allow himself to drag you into his world, but here you were and willingly too. In addition, it would allow him to see if youcould handle what it would mean to be with him in this world.

“Yes Y/N this was a test, but you passed. So now I’ll give you the whole world if you want it, just know that if you accept my offer there’s no going back.”

Ten: 

Ten likely wouldn’t give away his feelings for you for a long while. He put you through the same excruciating training every other recruit had to go through. He didn’t want you to have to live your life in the dangerous part of this world, but he knew if you were his there was always a chance of something happening and he wanted you prepared for it.

“I don’t care how tired your legs are or how bloody your knuckles, I said show me again Y/N. Those things won’t matter to you when your life is on the line, you have to be able to do this right.”

WinWin:

Sicheng would immediately pull you aside to question your motives for joining. If he could help it, he would try to convince or even bribe you into doing something that wasn’t dangerous. Ultimately though he respected your choice and supported it, but he’d keep a sharp eye out to try and protect you still.

“What are you here for Y/N? If it’s money, I can cover that for you. Adventure? Then be mine and you’ll have it all time. Whatever you want, I can give you, just stay someplace safe instead.”

Jaehyun:

Jaehyun won’t give you much wiggle room in what he allows. He’d much prefer you accept the spot as just his pretty thing, than be involved in the mafia. If you insisted though he only allowed you to do stuff at the base, often in the office with him by you. He didn’t even want to risk you being around some of his men.

“Stay in here doll, there are some men coming over and you don’t need to be any part of what they have to offer. Only open this door again for me.”

Jungwoo:

Jungwoo would fret over you a lot. He wants to allow you to make your own decisions after seeing how strong you are, but anytime you’re out he always worries that he may never see you again. Ultimately he ends up deciding that it would be best for you to work at the base where he can constantly check in.

“Please don’t be embarrassed Y/N. It’s not because you don’t have the skills to be out, it’s just for your own good.”

Lucas:

Lucas only lets you out when you’re with him. Doing lots of hands on training with you, and maybe showing off some as well. He trusts your safety with no one else though. At the first sign that you might not be able to handle something he pulls you.

“Go back to the car Y/N. I see the look in your eyes now...you don’t need to be here for this, so just behave.”

Mark:

Mark was known to be a very strict leader, even if he had a soft spot for you he was still strict. Instead of immediately sending you off with harsh consequences like he would everyone else, he pulled you aside and spoke with you before a lesser punishment was given. He was a mix of firm and soft, because he couldn’t risk you getting hurt because of some stupid little mistake.

“If you’re not going to be able to do this Y/N, then I suggest you get used to helping me in my office.”

Xiaojun:

Xiaojun tried to let you do as you wanted and live the mafia life, but after being frantic whenever you’d leave the base he couldn’t do it anymore. Telling you to either leave this life or to work from the safer area of the base, under his watchful eyes. Either way you always saw his protective hand in your life.

“If anything happens to you, it’d be like someone ripped my own heart out. I can’t have it.”

Hendery:

Hendery won’t let even his other men around you. All of your training and explanations come from him. The only time you get out is when he’s there by your side, whether there needs to be others or not. He doesn’t let you out of his sight, knowing the second he does he might never see you again. That’s just how this world worked.

“I won’t lose another person, especially not you.”

Renjun:

Renjun would be quiet at first, he hadn’t quite expected this from you. He had figured out that there was something special about you though and he was waiting to see just what it was. So when you walked in he raised a brow and smirked slightly. He’s fairly calm about the whole thing but fairly protective still.

“I understand your skills are on the streets, that’s why I’m keeping you here. You’re the best I have and I need you to use those street skills to help me plan...and to make sure everyone else understands what to do.”

Jeno:

Jeno is pleased at the opportunities this presents to him, but not to you. He didn’t want you in harms wat, but he likes that he can show off and doesn’t have to lie to you about who he is in fear of you running away. Basically though, it’ll be rare for you to get a chance outside of the base and either way you’re going to have a bodyguard with you.

“Who’s the boss here Y/N? Trust my judgement, especially when I’m just doing what’s best for you.”

Haechan:

Haechan is going to be bossy, but it’s because he’s terrified that you’re here. He might go as far as to lock you into the base or put a tracker on you if you’re for once allowed out. You won’t have a bodyguard directly besides you most times, but you’ll always have a tail and it’s one of his best at that.

“Don’t worry I told them to follow you, they’re there to keep you safe.”

Jaemin:

Jaemin is heated over this. His sweet, innocent, Y/N will not get their hands dirty in his business, not if he can help it anyways. That doesn’t mean you aren’t in the mafia though. He invites you to be his lover/sugar baby, the one he comes home to and spoils endlessly. Yet who is also someplace safe and without blood on their hands. 

“As odd as this might sound, you’re my guilty pleasure angel and nothing will stop me from keeping you safely at my side ruling this world.”

YangYang:

Yangyang vows to be your protector, yet tries to give you freedom to use your skills as part of the mafia. That doesn’t last long though. He can’t sleep at night knowing something might happen to you and it’s affecting how everything is running. So he has to keep you somplace safe.

“I’m sorry Y/N...you’ve done everything perfectly...I just can’t live to put you in harms way.”

Shotaro:

Shotaro chuckles, you’re like him, you look so sweet...so innocent and yet are involved in quite the opposite. He thinks that you can both use that to your advantage. Sitting at the top of the mafia world, running it better than anyone else, and yet no one would suspect the two of you at all.

“They’re clueless to us Y/N. To them we’re just a sweet up and coming cooperate couple...oblivious to the true power we hold.”

Sungchan:

Sungchan is intrigued by your appearance here. He pulls you aside to try and decipher your motived for being here. If he figured out you only are here for a reason of money, not because you want to be here in this world then he is going to fix that problem for you. Otherwise he’s going to help you be the best there is, just like him. Molding you to be even more perfect for him.

“No matter what I can help you Y/N. Just give me a chance and you’ll see that I can take care of you when no one else can.”

Chenle:

Chenle is not impressed by your showing up. He sends you to his office immediately before dealing with the other new recruits. He questions you on what exactly you think you’re doing here before laying out very specific instruction for you.

“If you’re going to stick around then you will listen to my rules or you’ll back off. Of course you could still be mine then if that’s what you really wanted.”

Jisung:

Jisung is not happy when he sees you. He’s going to find out who dragged you into this and they won’t be seeing sunlight for a long time, especially if they knew he cared about you. Then he’ll give you two options, one leave and forget about all of this or two stay there but as his officially not a mafia member.

“Those are your options Y/N. You’re not going to be part of the danger as fun as it may seem to you.”

- Bre

[atinybitofau]

[ateez] S E O N G H W A ⤮ baby daddy au

HIS SON IS A PRODIGY AND HE NEEDS A (mommy) NANNY. MAFIA SEONGHWA.

a/n: in honor of the beautiful vlive from last night 😭😭. how ya’ll doing Seonghwa stans?

• Seonghwa’s proud of his son.

• even if he works dirty jobs—

• isn’t exactly proud of himself.

• he’s got pride, believe me.

• but it’s not ordinary pride.

• Seonghwa’s far from the ordinary.

• “The nanny quit.” Hongjoong teeter’s Seonghwa’s baby-double on his hip. “Hwa, you need to find someone who can handle Yeolhwa. Your son is as bad as you. If not, worse.”

• he chuckles lowly putting down his stack of papers before reaching over for his son.

• his son always curling at the scent and warmth of his father.

• he playfully glares picking at his cheeks before telling him, “Yeolhwa, you can’t just pull nanny’s hair when you can’t get something you want. That’s not good.”

• Yeolhwa’s too young to understand.

• because his son is spoiled by everyone he encounters.

• and Seonghwa expects nothing but when he works his ass off to get the things he wants.

• he doesn’t want his son to struggle the way he did when he was young.

• “What’s the mother doing?” Hongjoong is merciless when he asks. “That dumb skank only knows one thing and it’s popping kids and popping pills.”

• he admits he’s had too much leisure when having his fun in the past—

• but he never regrets having his son in a mistake he can barely even remember.

• “I’ve made it clear he needs no mother.”

• “Seonghwa, no matter what you do, that boy needs a mother.” the younger rolls his eyes. “A nanny can only make up so much for what you deprive. And your job doesn’t make things easier. You can’t take care of him like this forever. Not by yourself.”

• Seonghwa teeters his own son to sleep in his arms.

• staring and cradling his face like he’s the greatest gift not even money can buy—

• not even his power.

• he didn’t have to kill someone to get Yeolhwa.

• his son is everything to him.

• but he has to make sacrifices to give his son everything.

• nothing is ever just given.

• “I’m sorry it’s such short notice, Ms. y/n. But I hope the accommodations we have are enough to settle with.” Hongjoong opens the door for you. “Yeolhwa can be a little arduous when it comes to caretaking. Do be careful.”

• you are anxious you must admit.

• the home smells eerily like iron and musk.

• you can tell the job you took wasn’t just leisure or easy money.

• “Oh.” you shyly smile. “I’m sure he’s just a little hard to understand. Children can be unpredictable and we can’t blame them for that.”

• Hongjoong hears that too many times.

• knows that’s what they all say.

• chokes on his breath before he says something that might scare you away.

• “Well I must get back.” he hands you a cellphone and a book of references before pulling his suit. “Please don’t hesitate to call me. Everything you need is in that book. I’ll be back to relieve you at 9 pm tonight.”

• “Thank you, Mr. Hongjoong. I hope I don’t let you down.”

• he scoffs at that. “Good luck, Ms. y/n. You’re gonna need it.”

• you don’t know what that means.

• but you’re more concerned on taking care of a child who is claimed to be intolerable.

• and you stern by the idea of inexperienced children.

• because they’re not like us.

• they learn from what they’re surrounded with.

• “M-mr. Hongjoong. I’m sorry for bothering you but I was wondering if I can take Yeolhwa to the park today. I see there’s no schedule for outside play time and I—“

• “Unfortunately his father doesn’t approve of outside exposure.” Hongjoong’s fast to quib. “He’s going to have to settle playing inside.”

• “But Mr—“

• “I apologize y/n but that just can’t happen.”

• you observe Yeolhwa.

• he’s a quiet and kept child.

• but he doesn’t like the word no.

• no, he likes getting what he wants.

• and he plays with his toys like they’re not toys at all.

• holds his toy gun like it’s almost real.

• “Yeolhwa, what’s that baby?”

• he looks up to you with golden eyes. “Nanny y/n.”

• you smile at the small boy who offers you a book. “You want me to read to you?”

• he cracks a smile and curls in your lap.

• he’s a sweet kid and is quite capable.

• but you see why he’s not easy to deal with.

• not when he throws tantrums like he’s a grown ass adult—

• “Yeolhwa baby, put the book down.” you ease him in the best way possible. “Sweetie, you can’t play anymore. You have to take a nap.”

• he sobs again.

• hurling a heavy hard cover book in your direction.

• sighing, you only collect the things he throws never giving it attention.

• it only peeves him more.

• “You can cry all you want. But crying won’t get you your toys, baby. You have to sleep.”

• eventually fulfilling your hopes,

• he gets tired.

• curling in your lap when he seeks comfort and warmth for slumber.

• once he’s asleep, you pack your things ready to leave for the night.

• “I hope he wasn’t too much trouble.”

• Hongjoong’s surprised the safe house wasn’t a complete wreck.

• he’s surprised nothings broken.

• but notices the bruising marks that formed on your legs.

• “I’m assuming you won’t be back?” he asks while teetering the small sleeping boy on his hip.

• “I’ll be back.” you affirm. “And I don’t intend to leave any time soon.”

• he’s convinced you’re different.

• that you have a certain will and composure that resembles someone he knows.

• tells Seonghwa immediately.

• “She’s worth watching. You should definitely see.”

• it happens again for the next couple days.

• but Yeolhwa’s toys hurt more than the books.

• and now you’re bleeding hard in the bathroom while he sleeps in his bed.

• “Children are unpredictable, y/n.” you mumble to yourself. “They grow learning from you.”

• Seonghwa watches through his monitor how you treat his child.

• sometimes peeved that you don’t give his son what he wants—

• but mesmerized when his son crawls into your lap every time despite it.

• “Hongjoong, I’ll be picking up Yeolhwa tonight. And prepare Yunho for babysitting duty.”

• Yeolhwa cries when he’s pulled out of your arms by a dark suited man,

• wants to stay in yours.

• crying for your name while you smile softly at him, hand to his cheek.

• “I’ll be back tomorrow, baby.” you coo. “Be a good boy okay? And I promise if you don’t cause trouble, I’ll come back every time.”

• he understands well for a child.

• curling obediently into the dark suited man who resembled him after you spoke.

• “I’m assuming you’re the infamous father?”

• Seonghwa studies you. “You take care of a child well. Thank you.”

• you shake it off pulling at your scarf. “I take care of a child as if it’s my own. Thank you for letting me.”

• your voice is soft,

• motherly and gentle.

• Seonghwa hasn’t felt this kind of delicate emotion in years.

• “I have dinner waiting. Care to join me?”

• you smile while holding at Yeolhwa’s reaching hand. “I have my own family I must attend to, Mr. Park.”

• “It’ll only be a couple minutes.”

• you notice the tattoos on his neck.

• the similar stamp of injustice that lingered on each of the men you’ve met prior.

• realizing days ago that Seonghwa’s son was a prodigy.

• one so that isn’t exactly safe or ordinary.

• “Your family relies on you.” Seonghwa keeps his eyes on you in midst of eating. “You’re a very lovely woman, y/n. Strong willed and captivating.”

• you blink softly unsure of how to respond. “I do what I must..”

• “Don’t we all.”

• your eyes meet his and you swallow your emotions harshly biting back at your lip.

• you don’t deny he’s a charming man.

• like his son, quiet and kept.

• “But you’re a beautiful woman too.” he admits. “Caring and gentle. My son’s fond of you for those reasons. He has good taste.”

• “Like his father I presume?” you tease making him laugh. “I have one request I want to light up though, Mr. Park. I want to bring your son out. Expose him to more than just the guns and walls.”

• he notes your observance.

• strong willed indeed.

• “I trust you.”

• you should be the one trusting him.

• but it’s inevitable what happens with his son as soon as he’s vulnerable, exposed.

• he’s a prodigy wanted by the best and worst of the world.

• and now your shielding a child with your own life.

• as if he was yours.

• “Hey baby, don’t cry. You’re gonna be okay. Yeolhwa, you’re gonna be okay sweetie.”

• he’s only crying because you’re crying.

• cause you don’t know what to do in this situation.

• but when Seonghwa appears from nowhere, spins you and his son around into his chest,

• you suddenly feel safe.

• him guarding you,

• you shielding his son.

• “Y/n, look at me.” he’s careful to touch you. “I’m gonna need you to come with me, okay?”

• you can only blink when his son is yanked out of your hands,

• the poor boy wanting only you.

• but with Seonghwa’s men, he’s safer.

• Seonghwa staying behind to protect you.

• “Y-Yeolhwa!”

• “He’s gonna be okay.” Seonghwa caresses your face shooting blank bullets over the car you two hide against. “I need to get you out of here okay? You need to be strong for me.”

• crying’s not gonna get you anywhere and if anyone were to know that, it would be you.

• so you follow.

• now safe from harm, Yeolhwa sleeping soundly on your lap,

• while his men try to console you with a cup of hot herbal tea and sweet talk.

• “This must be a lot for you. We’re sorry y/n.”

• you smile softly bouncing Seonghwa’s son up and down on your lap. “I don’t mind. I read the book Hongjoong gave and it was all in the fine print. A disclaimer that promised to keep me safe.”

• it’s no lie even Seonghwa’s men find you attractive.

• and it might be because you’re so humble.

• so delicate.

• Seonghwa has a proposition for you when Yeolhwa’s asleep.

• today being the day you should be quitting.

• but you promised Hongjoong your full effort and nothing but.

• “Y/n, stay with me.”

• Seonghwa leans his forehead against yours, hand cradling the line of your jaw.

• you feel warm against his touch.

• like a baby to a mother.

• in this case, a woman to a man.

• “Stay with me and Yeol.” he runs a finger over your parted lips. “He needs you. He needs a mother.”

• he admits his son has grown to love you.

• and maybe he’s grown to love you too.

• “I can’t take care of him the way you do.” he watches as your eyes lull to his voice. “He won’t be able to live without you.”

• “I’ll stay for as long as he needs me too.”

• it’s the first time Seonghwa’s ever stayed home.

• ever slept in his own bed with his own son curling into his chest.

• but it’s not the first time he’s slept in a bed with a woman.

• but it’s the first in his own bed with a woman he loves.

• “Mommy, hurry..”

• your eyebrows furrow and you whip around to face Seonghwa and his son,

• “M-mommy?”

• Seonghwa chuckles brushing through his sleepy son’s hair. “You heard him, mommy. Come to bed.”

• you take care of his son like he’s your own.

• but now Yeolhwa doesn’t need a nanny anymore.

• most of the time, looking for his father.

• “He doesn’t need me anymore, Seonghwa.” you playfully nudge at him when his chocolate haired son plays with new toys. “I don’t think I need to stay.”

• “Absurd.” the mafia boss spins you on your feet so your lips meet his. “If he doesn’t need a nanny, he needs a mother. But if he didnt need you at all then stay because I do.”

• you giggle against your boyfriend’s lips.

• “Hongjoong keeps having me sign a contract.” you pull at his collar, studying his eyes some more. “But the one this morning seemed to have unordinary discrepancies.”

• “That’s because that was a marriage contract.”

• “Ah.” you tease, him biting at your lip. “That must be why I saw your name instead of Yeol’s.”

• “APPA!”

• you two are suddenly pulled apart, the small boy holding out his arms protecting your legs.

• “You’re hurting mommy with your teeth! Bad appa.”

• you choke a laugh when Seonghwa furrows at the cockblock son of his.

• “Yeolhwa, you can’t just hurt me to get the things you want.” Seonghwa teases hoisting up his smiley son on his hip. “Who taught you that?”

• “You appa. You said we have to protect mommy from bad people. And that mommy should never get hurt.”

• “Oh yeah. I did, didn’t I?”

@atinybitofau

[plush-rabbit]

Soulmate AU - Sako Atsuhiro

Request: Ooooo all this Compress stuff has me yearning!! Can I request a little something for him that’s a soulmate AU - the one where when you touch your soulmate everything blossoms into color? And he’s being chased by the authorities and bumps into a bystander and sees color? He’s so shocked and frazzled he just marbles them and steals them away on the run? Then when they’re safe he’s romantic and also yandere? Pleeeaaase!!!

A/N: Headcanons because I think I wanna play with it since soulmate aus tend to be kinda story heavy, might do a story for this later if i think there's more to be said

-

It’s due to his own need to be the center of attention and announce himself that he is currently running away from the authorities. No matter what he throws at the oncoming heroes, he can’t escape them. His legs are starting to grow tired and he’s unable to properly think as he turns a corner, touching his body and transporting himself into a marble. While it’s difficult to gauge whether the heroes have passed, he holds his breath for a few moments before returning to his size. Just as he’s about to turn, he bumps into you, his hand coming out to steady you- he may be a villain, but he’s still a gentleman. His bare hand clasps around yours, gripping onto you tightly and pulling you close to his chest.

Just like that, in the same moment he held your hand, color blooms into his life. His head aches and his eyes burn, color seared into him and a flood of it overstimulating both you and him. You hiss, and close your eyes and while it be an innate thing for you to curl onto yourself, you curl onto him, resting our head against his chest and holding onto his hand with such a tight grip that it’s starting to sting a bit. Color is around him, painting the alley that was in a grayscale into something much livelier, something so full that it causes his chest to feel tight. You try to pull away from him, tears in your eyes- such a lovely color, he thinks to himself, he wonders if you think the same for him. It’s a bold world, one where you occupy such a small space, in soft colors that flower over you. Whether it’s the rush of color that suddenly filled him or you, tears well in his eyes.

In the distance, he can hear sirens. Whether it’s for him or someone- or something- else, he can’t be bothered to truly care about the significance. All he can truly care about is that you’re standing in front of him, living and breathing and holding his hand. You call him mister, trying to pull your hand away and he shakes his head visibly. The sirens approach closer and he simply can’t leave you there. He just met you. You’re in his hands- quite literally. The sirens grow closer, ringing in his ear and making the headache form that much sharper.

He only has a moment to think, and in a hasty thought process- that he’ll attribute to the headache- he wants to take you. You’re already in his hand- your sweet face looking up at him, the color in your eyes reflecting his own mask, the dim, orange light glowing against your pupils. He can’t convince you to run away from him, no doubt you have your own life, but he also can’t risk letting you go. It was hard enough to find you and who knows how it’ll be if you decide to leave him. He apologizes to you, his hand squeezing against yours. You gasp, and suddenly you’re in the palm of his hand- a pale blue marble looking up at him and finding its way to the center of his palm.

Panic courses through his veins, echoes in his heart and makes him unable to think properly. All he knows is that he has to be alone for the moment. Alone with you. He makes a quick stop at the League of Villains main hideout, stopping in and dropping off the things that were needed. His hand never leaves the inside of his pocket where he rolls you between his fingers. Worry must be evident on him, because right before he’s supposed to leave, a hand grasps onto the arm that holds you. He turns, pulling away quickly and grasping his hand around you. He just can’t be here. Something important came up- something he can’t exactly explain but he’ll be back, he promises to the League who can only watch in a mixture of concern and judgement.

A part of him worries that they believe he might be double-crossing them, but he shakes his head. They know him, they know he wouldn’t run away and betray them. In the same moment, he receives a message telling him to be safe from his friend. Once he’s in a safe place, he places you down worry making his lips raw. He needs to release you, he knows that. In a simple touch, you’re pulled away, flat on your back and looking around the dimly lit room with scared eyes. He calms your worry, his voice coming out in soft hushes, his hands raised as he hovers above you, pleading for you to relax. He won’t hurt you- how could he? He’s your soulmate and you’re his. His mask slowly starts to slip, his charismatic face coming off and revealing a spiral of knots and interconnected webbing that makes him lose focus and his charm. He’s frantic, pleading for you to stop crying.

You just need to understand that he couldn’t just leave you. He couldn’t let you just walk away from him when he was right in front of you. It takes quite a while before you stop to cry and even longer before he’s able to approach you. Your hand slips to the pocket of your jeans, and in that same second, he marbles your phone, throwing it into a small velvet sack where it’s lost with other items he’s collected and forgotten. You just have to understand that you can’t leave him. Not when he’s taken you with him. Not when you still haven’t calmed down and embraced him. He’s your soulmate. He won’t hurt you. You can sleep away from him, keep your back turned toward him. You can do whatever you want, as long as you’re comfortable. Your trust is something that he has to earn, he can deal with that.

Perhaps that’s why you both are soulmates, because like you,his trust is something to be gained as well. He can’t leave you alone when he’s going to go get you food, he has to marble you. He debates whether telling you that people are actually searching for you, but when you thank him for the meal, letting his hands rest over yours for a moment longer, he decides not to. When you start to cry, he’s quick to hold you, running his hand down your back and making sure that your arms are pinned between the two bodies. A warm feeling blooms in his chest when you stop fighting against him, when you finally lean into him. You finally start to face him, to reach out to him with cold hands, whimpering about how you can’t seem to fall asleep. Your hand will graze over his jaw and he can feel your breath. You’ll start to muse about the outside world, mentioning how if you both had met under different circumstances, he wouldn’t have been forced into doing what he did.

Time is ticking. He has to go back to the League eventually and he’s already promised you that he wouldn’t put you in a marble without your consent. Now, he simply can’t leave you. He can’t just toss you back into civilization with the simple promise of you keeping in contact with him. It’s easier if you stay with him. But while you may be more relaxed in his presence, he still knows that you want to be free. You still sleep with your back turned to him, your body curled in on itself. You don’t fully trust him. You don’t fully love him. His tongue brushes over his lips and he knows what he has to do. When you awaken, he’s rough, gripping you by the shoulders and trying his best to scare you. Despite you crying and having it break his heart, he doesn’t relent. It’s safer with him. People haven’t even searched for you. Your stuff isn’t even in your home- it’s been packed and shipped to some warehouse where it can collect dust. There’s no heroes that are prowling the streets, no missing posters- you’re a ghost, vanished in the dead of night by a man who would never stop searching for you if you disappeared. All you have to do is stay with him, let him protect you.

Atsuhiro is your only means of human contact. He’s the only one who’s shown you love and care despite stealing you. It’s safe being around him. Nice, even. He holds you and gives you the biggest portion of the meal, he keeps you warm and hasn’t actually harmed you. All you have to do is accept him as your soulmate, to view color and be with him. He’s sweet enough, a bit eccentric, but he hasn’t ever actually harmed you. It’s easy to accept his offer of a relationship. To offer yourself to him and beg for him to take care of you. His touch is gentle, pressed against your temple, his eyes a warm chocolate brown with hints of a velvety red. He holds your hand, his smile sweet like honey and he tells you that he’ll be your soulmate for as long as you’ll have him.

[q-gorgeous]

If You Go Out of This World Today

fanfiction

ao3

The Accident didn’t turn Danny into a half ghost, but instead allowed him to see, hear, and physically interact with the very real ghosts that are now pouring through the portal (Alternative: Danny’s always been clairvoyant, but after the accident he finally sees all of the ghosts he’d grown up talking to) prompt by @sapphireswimming

word count: 3358

yo another prompt hidey hey

Ember had been chasing Johnny and Kitty through the Ghost Zone when it happened. Suddenly she was tripping her way through a natural portal that had spontaneously formed in front of her and she tumbled straight into the human world. Before she could stand back up, the portal had closed already. 

Looking around, she could see that she was in a bedroom. The walls were painted blue with stars stuck to the ceiling. There was a night light plugged into the wall and as she looked around her gaze landed on a small boy who was sitting straight up in his bed. He had black hair and blue eyes and he was staring at his closet with wide eyes. 

“Hello?” He called. “Is someone there?”

Ember stays quiet, not ready to announce her presence. A few moments later though, a woman walks in through the door.

“Danny, are you alright?”

He points to his closet. “I thought I heard a weird noise. Can you look?”

She nods. She walks over to the closet and opens it, sticking her head inside. Looking back and forth, she calls back out to Danny.

“Nothing in here.”

“No ghosts?” Danny asks, lifting his blanket up to cover the bottom half of his face.

“No ghosts.” She confirms. “We’d know if there were ghosts in the house.”

Ember nearly snorts but holds the sound back. 

“Now, it's time for bed.” She walks over to the bed and starts tucking him back in. 

“Mommy! Can you sing me a song before I go back to sleep?” He begged. 

His mom smiled and sat down on the bed beside him, brushing his hair out of his face. Then she began to sing.

“If you go out of this world today

You’re sure of a big surprise

If you go out of this world today

You’d better go in disguise.”

Ember frowned. That’s not how she remembered this song going. 

“For every ghost that ever there was

Will gather there for certain, because

Today’s the day the wretched ghosts have their picnic.” 

Wretched ghosts?

“If you go out of this world today

You’d better not go alone

It’s pretty out of the world today

But safer to stay at home.

For every ghost that ever there was

Will gather there for certain, because

Today’s the day the wretched ghosts have their picnic.” 

Ember didn’t know what to make of this woman or her parody of this lullaby. Why was it about ghosts? Most people didn’t even believe in ghosts.

“Every wretched ghost, who’s been bad

Is sure of a treat today

There’s lots of wonderful things to do

And wonderful tests to try.”

Ember stared at the woman in horror. Did they study ghosts? Why did they hate ghosts so much?

“Beyond the clouds where nobody sees

They’ll hide and seek as long as they please

Today’s the day the wretched ghosts have their picnic.

Today’s the day the wretched ghosts have their picnic.”

Ember stood frozen to the spot where she stood. Realistically, she knew she should be escaping and trying to find a way back to the ghost zone right now. If this woman managed to find her and capture her, who knows what she’d plan on doing.

But on the other hand, what kind of mother sings about experimenting on ghosts to her kids? What if he’s in danger? The way his mother had sung that last verse had unnerved Ember, and while it seemed to have put the boy to sleep, it still left a sour taste in her mouth. 

Looking at the boy in the small bed, her resolve hardened. She’d stay and watch over him. Or at least stay long enough to figure out if he’d be okay. 

QQQQQ

It was a few days later when Ember first let something slip. Danny was watching cartoons in front of the tv downstairs and she laughed at something that happened in the show. Danny’s head had whipped to the side and looked in her general direction with wide eyes.

“Hello?”

Ember took in a sharp breath. Most humans couldn’t hear or see ghosts. She just happened to find one that could, but at least it didn’t seem like he could see her at all. She shouldn’t start talking to him but…

“Hi.”

His mouth dropped open. “Why can’t I see you?”

“Uh, well. Because I’m a ghost.”

“You’re a ghost?” He gaped at the empty air beside her head. “Mom-!”

“No! Shh sh!” Ember started waving her hands in a “no” motion even though he couldn’t see her. “Don’t tell them! If they found out I was here they’d try to trap me!” She had found the Fenton’s lab two days ago, and while it cemented the idea that this was a dangerous place for a toddler, it also scared the shit out of her.

“Trap you? How can they trap you if you’re a ghost?”

“Your parents are very smart people. They have all sorts of stuff that they’re building in the basement.”

“The basement? What’s in the basement?” He started climbing off the couch. 

“Nope, nope! You’re not going down to the basement. It’s too dangerous down there.” Ember stood to block his path even though, again, he couldn’t see her.

He let out a whine. “That’s what mommy and daddy always say. I’m a big boy now! When will I be able to go into the basement?”

Ember shook her head. “Not for a long time I’d hope.”

Danny groaned and climbed back onto the couch, laying face down on it instead of facing the tv to watch the show. “Why can’t I go down there when they’re down there all day?” He asked quietly.

Ember frowned at him sadly and sat down beside his head. “Even big boys like you need to be protected from dangerous things. But! How about we hang out together? We can be buddies, small fry.”

Danny scrambled up into a sitting position excitedly. “Like an imaginary friend? Except for real?”

She chuckled. “Sure. Like an imaginary friend. Let’s go with that.”

Danny cheered. “Come on! Let’s go play superhero in my room!”

He charged up the stairs and she followed slowly after him, chuckling. 

QQQQQ

“You’re doing what?” Johnny asked incredulously.

“Staying here.” Ember watched as Danny swung on the swings, his mother tinkering with an invention in her hands as she sat on the bench. 

“What’s the fun in that?” Kitty asked. “What’s the point in staying here if no one can see you? How are you going to scare any of them?”

Ember scoffed, her brows drawing down as she looked at them. “I’m not here to scare anyone.”

“Then why are you here?” Johnny asked.

Ember fidgeted where she stood, looking at Danny. “I tripped through a portal into that kids room when I got here. Everything seemed pretty normal until his mom started singing a song about experimenting on ghosts.”

“So what? He’s not a ghost.” Kitty said bluntly.

“No, but what kind of parents sing about torturing something to their kid? I looked around their house and they have a lab full of weapons and a dissection table and everything! I don’t think it matters that he’s not a ghost, that’s not a safe place to be in. Half the time his parents forget to come up and feed them and his older sister has to make something to eat for the two of them.” Ember sighed. “I know what it’s like to come from a shitty home situation. I just want to make sure he doesn’t get hurt.”

Johnny and Kitty shared a sad look. Kitty spoke up. “We get that too, but what about your safety? If they’re ghost hunters they probably pose more of a danger to you than they do to him.”

Ember snorted. “As if. I don’t know how they got to be where they are but they are probably the most air headed scientists ever. They think their tracking devices are locking onto Danny somehow instead of me. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“Well, if you end up fading-” 

“What’s fading?” Danny asked suddenly. 

Johnny yelped as he was interrupted, not noticing the boy approaching them. Ember chuckled. 

“We can talk about that later. What are you doing over here, small fry?”

“I heard you talking to someone else. I wanted to come see who it was. It’s also boring playing by myself.” Danny pouted and kicked his foot in the woodchips. 

“Well you’re in luck, little dip! I’ve got two great friends here who would love to play with us!” 

“Wait-” Johnny said, waving his hands back and forth.

“What do you want to play?” Ember continued, ignoring him. 

“Oohh, we can play ice cream man!” Danny said excitedly. He started running towards a plastic counter thing that was built into the playground. “Ice cream! Get your ice cream!” He shouted.

“Why are you dragging us into this?” Johnny asked.

“Loosen up a little bit, he’s just a kid. It’s not like you guys have to stay. Hello Mr. Ice Cream Man!” Embered said cheerily as she walked up to where Danny stood at the counter.

“Hello! What can I get for you today?”

“Hm.” Ember looked above Danny’s head at a pretend menu. “How about a strawberry ice cream cone?”

“Coming right up!” Danny bent over and reappeared a few seconds later with a pile of woodchips that he poured all over the counter. “Order served!” 

“Thank you! Wow! Om nom nom, so delicious!” Ember said, pretending to eat her ice cream. 

Danny swept the woodchips off of the counter. “Next!”

Johnny rolled his eyes but Kitty pulled him forward. “Hi! Can we get an ice cream sundae for two? It’ll be so romantic.” She fluttered her eyes at Johnny and he made a face at her.

“Coming right up!” Once again, Danny bent over but this time when he dumped the woodchips on the counter, it was an even bigger pile. “Order served!” 

Kitty made pretend eating sounds and Ember was about to walk back up to the counter when she heard the voices of a couple of kids nearby. 

“Can we have some ice cream?”

Two kids about Danny’s age walked up to him. One had big glasses on his face and the other had her black hair done up in two pigtails. Danny stared at them for a few seconds before responding. “Right! Yes. What flavors would you two like?”

The kid with glasses whispered in the girl’s ear and she approached the counter. 

“Mint chocolate chip and chocolate chip cookie dough?”

“Coming right up!” Danny bent over once again and picked up two handfuls of woodchips, placing them on the counter. The girl stared at them for a few seconds. 

“Order served!”

She giggled and picked them up, bringing them close to her face. “Mmm, this is the most delicious ice cream I’ve ever had.” She nudged her friend beside her, who was staring sadly at the woodchips.

“Huh? Oh.” He picked up his own pile. “Om nom nom. So good.”

The girl laughed again. “I’m Sam. This is Tucker.” Tucker waved. “Did you want to come play in the sandbox with us?”

He stared at her again, eyes wide, before his face split into a grin. “Sure! What are you guys playing?”

Ember waved goodbye to Johnny and Kitty as they announced their goodbyes. She followed Danny and his new friends across the park to the sandbox. 

“We were just going to see how big of a hole we can dig.” Tucker says, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I think we can get to China.”

Sam rolled her eyes. “We don’t have time for that Tucker. My mom wants me home by four, remember?”

His shoulders slumped. “Oh yeah.”

Ember chuckled at them. Having friends Danny’s age will probably be good for him. She hasn’t seen one kid come over in the couple weeks she’s been staying with him. 

“Wait what time is it now?” Danny asked. 

He only got two shrugs in return. 

“Come on, let’s go talk to my mom. Maybe we can convince her and whoever brought you guys to get us ice cream instead of playing in the sandbox.”

Sam and Tucker’s eyes lit up and they hurried after Danny as he ran to the bench where his mom sat, who had finally put her invention away and was reading a book instead. 

“Mom, Mom! What time is it?”

She checked a watch on her wrist. “3:15. We’ll be leaving soon though, so you better finish anything you still want to do.”

Ember silently laughed at the panic that appeared on Danny’s face. “Can we find Sam and Tucker’s parent and get ice cream instead of staying in the park? Please?” He clasped his hands together and started begging, Sam and Tucker following suit. 

“Who are-”

Maddie finally looked up at the three kids standing in front of her. “Oh! Why hello there! Danny! You made some friends!”

“Can we pleeeease get some ice cream?”

“Pleease?” Sam and Tucker chorused. 

Maddie chuckled. “I don’t see why not. We have to go find your guardian first and ask them if you two can have some though.” She stood up and started packing her book back into her bag and slung it over her shoulder. 

The three kids cheered and Sam and Tucker ran their way over to another bench on the other side of the playground. 

“Mom! Me and Sam made a new friend! We were wondering if we could all get ice cream together!” 

Tucker’s mom looked up and saw Danny standing shyly behind his mom, who waved.

“Hi, I’m Maddie and this is Danny.”

Danny waved. 

“Hi! I’m Angela.” She looked back at Sam and Tucker. “You guys made a new friend? I think that’s cause for celebration.”

“We can get ice cream?” Sam asked.

“Yes, we can get ice cream.” Angela said, smiling. 

All three kids cheered and started following their moms as they walked out of the park. Ember smiled. While she liked spending time playing with Danny, these were kids his age that he could actually see. She was happy for him. 

QQQQQ

“Ghosts aren’t real, man.”

“What do you mean?” Danny asked, a furrow in his brow. 

Ember looked away from a book she had finally learned how to pick up and turn invisible after years in the human world to see Danny and his friends looking at each other in frustration. 

“Ghosts aren’t real. There’s no scientific evidence of them.” Tucker said, looking back at the tv where their game was paused. 

“Well what about my parents' work? Their lifelong passion?”

Tucker shrugged. “There’s gotta be some explanation for whatever findings they have. It can’t be explained by ghosts. Have your parents ever seen a ghost?”

“No but not everyone can see ghosts.” 

“Huh?” 

“It’s called being clairvoyant.” Sam said. “It encompasses different kinds of things but it can apply to seeing the future or seeing ghosts and other things like that.”

“Do you believe me Sam?” Danny asked. 

She shrugged. “It’s something I’d like to believe because I think it’s interesting but I can’t, not without solid proof.”

“But I have solid proof!” 

“Okay what is it then?” Tucker asked, putting down his controller.

“I can hear ghosts. I’ve had one living with me for half my life. You know, Ember?”

Sam and Tucker shared a look. “You mean your imaginary friend?” Sam asked. 

He shot her a look. “No, she’s not my imaginary friend. She’s a ghost that accidentally fell through a portal from the ghost zone and she’s been my friend ever since.”

Tucker took a deep breath. “No offense, dude, but I think you’ve got whatever your parents have that makes them go off their rockers. It’s probably just all in your head.”

Danny bristled. “I’m not crazy.”

Tucker rolled his eyes. “And I’m the pharaoh Duul Aman. Your parents are crazy. Even Jazz believes that and she’s lived her whole life with them too. Just drop it already. We’re not kids anymore.”

Tucker unpaused the game and after a few moments Danny turned back to the screen stiffly and started playing again. 

After that Danny started talking to Ember less and less. She’d ask how his day went at school and she’d hear him mumble something about voices in his head and ghosts, but he didn’t respond to her. Which was fine. Teenagers did that. She was his friend but she could very well be another sort of mother figure to him, so it made sense. 

One day when she asked him about his homework he finally exploded on her.

“Stop! Just stop talking! I don’t know if you’re a ghost or not but that’s crazy! Everyone at school thinks my parents are crazy so it must be true. I’m crazy. I’ve let myself believe an imaginary friend that I hallucinate about has been real for too long. It’s time to grow up.”

“Danny-” She started.

“No!” He shouted. “You’re not real! I don’t want to talk to you anymore!”

Ember felt her heart drop into her stomach and she floated away from him. He looked around him, listening for her, before he took a deep breath and went back to his homework that he was working on. 

QQQQQ

Ember didn’t stick around at Danny’s house as often anymore. She’d go fly around town on her own more and sometimes went back to the ghost zone for a couple days before another portal opened back up. She had just floated through the walls into the living room for the first time in a week when she heard Danny and his friends talking in the lab. 

She felt prickles on her skin. Danny was fourteen now. She didn’t need to watch over him as much anymore. He was old enough to watch over himself now. But she had a bad feeling about the lab. His parents had recently finished building their ghost portal but it ended up not working. 

She slowly floated down the stairs, apprehensive about being down there with all the weapons again, but just as she hit the bottom step and looked up, she saw a bright flash of green and heard a scream that rattled her to her very core. 

Danny was in the portal, screaming and screaming as the portal turned on around him. Sam and Tucker were shouting his name from outside the portal, tears streaming down their faces. 

Ember flew across the lab quickly and was about to reach into the portal but the ectoplasm powering it began to burn her skin. She hissed and pulled her arms away. 

After a few more agonizing seconds, the swirling of the portal settled into a more gentle rhythm and when Ember reached out, the burning sensation was gone. She was about to reach in to find Danny when someone tumbled out and onto the floor.

Her heart dropped as she took in their appearance. It must’ve been Danny’s ghost. He was an inverted version of his human self, wearing the jumpsuit his parents had just finished for him two weeks ago. 

“Danny?”

Sam’s quiet, croaky voice filled the lab. Danny lay on the floor unmoving for a few moments before he groaned and opened his eyes. 

“Sam? Tucker? What happened?”

Sam’s bottom lip wobbled and Tucker stared at Danny with wide eyes. “Danny. I think- I think you-”

Tucker was interrupted as a bright flash of white light appeared and lit up the room. It traveled up and down Danny’s body, revealing a human boy. 

“Ugh.” Danny groaned. “That did not help my growing migraine. What was that?” 

Ember leaned further over him to get a look at the burns on his face when his eyes opened. He looked at Sam and Tucker first, and then his eyes kept traveling and met her own. His eyes widened and a shocked look appeared on his face, one she could feel mirrored on her own, as he looked straight up at her. 

He whispered, his voice small and shaky.

“Ember?”

[painless-innit-colourful]

After Wilbur leaves, Tommy’s legs give out, and his panic takes over, feat. the rest of the Bench Trio. TW for suicidal ideation, massive amounts of self-loathing. Also, spoilers for today’s stream.

---

"What did you do?"

He falls to his knees, and for a few minutes, the world goes blank.

What has he done? He's doomed them all, that's what he's done. He let one of the only people that believed in him get killed, he failed in his mission, and now he's almost single-handedly released one of the biggest sources of pain and misery back onto the server. Any moment he expects some righteous punishment for what he's done: a cruel hand, the final blow from a sword, the divine arrow, another damn lightning strike, because why not? Why should he get to sit and cry like a baby when the whole server will soon suffer for what he's done?

The reason they had to kill Dream was just like Ranboo had once said: 'If the villains can come back, then what's the point in winning?' Ranboo, whose presence he can feel, vibrating angrily mere metres away. It's like when you agro an enderman; Tommy expects the hit to come, he wants it, he deserves it, because Ranboo was right! They can't win. Not anymore. All Dream needs is the body, and they can welcome back all those they banished to the other side. Wilbur was supposed to be gone. That was supposed to be done with. It can't be happening again. He can't be back.

His mind whirrs, trying for any solution to this mega-problem, no matter how outlandish, but it returns nothing. Wilbur defeated himself last time. They can't conquer the prison again; besides, Sam will kill him if he goes near it again. Sam, who helped him build Jack Manifold's (his, his, his) hotel, who built him a robot that helped him gather materials and work for himself and protected him and refused to hurt him. Sam, who nearly just took his last canon life several times, who told him he should be dead, who told him he caused all the problems at the prison, on the server, hell! Why didn't he kill him? Maybe the server would be safer that way. Perhaps Wilbur isn't the first villain Dream's resurrected.

He'll never sleep again. Partly because he has to find a way to stop this, has to put an end to everything even if it kills him, especially if he can take them all out at the same time. But also partly because that look Wilbur gave him, the fire that burns nations to the scorched earth underfoot dancing behind his eyes, already haunts his dreams. He already knows which words he'll hear when he tries to rest, which crazed looks, which gestures he'll never forget; he doesn't want that. He wants to sleep in peace, without the ghost of a villain returned beckoning "Let's be the bad guys." and "Why not?" and "My hero, Dream!" The roles have reversed, the blackstone table has turned.

"You wanna be a hero Tommy?" He thinks he'd rather have died one than become... whatever monster stares back at him in the glass beneath his feet. Glass that protects the crater of a nation. A nation that he died twice for. That caused so much pain and strife. That ultimately was razed so far down that the earth will never forgive its creators for painting upon it a target so large and flammable. It was never meant to be, indeed.

And he cries. The tears make tiny 'plinck, plinck, plinck' sounds as they hit the glass, forming a small puddle as the once-proud soldier puts his head against the grave of his home, and himself, Prime knows how many times, and sobs. The ground is unforgiving, the silence carries his weeping out to sea. He shed tears like these for Wilbur once. He wants him back. He wants to go back to the Void. And with a whole server of people about to wake up to the news of the impending chaos in the form of one persuasive former president, he doesn't think it'll be long before he returns. He wants to go back to the Void, and play Competitive Solitaire with Wilbur forever, and maybe, just maybe, that'd be enough to give his friends the peace they need to build lives in the shelter of the shadows. In the runoff and the rubble, they could grow old. And maybe they'd mourn him occasionally. He doesn't see the point.

He doesn't deserve their love anymore. He's fucked up. He's fucked up, and he should pay the price. He should march up to Wilbur, and kill him, and die in the process. But if they both woke up, what then? Who knows how many canon lives zombies have anyway.

He doesn't deserve kindness, or love, or affection. He watched the sweet, innocent ghost be slaughtered because of him. A man he might've accidentally called 'father' should've killed him. Ranboo, dear Prime, patient, forgiving, compassionate Ranboo stared at him with eyes full of disappointment and betrayal and anger and stormed off. He doesn't deserve anything but his ruined city's sky, not anymore... But he wants it. Needs it. Needs it, or what is there left?

So when Tubbo stands at his side, his scarred face barely reflected in the glass, he doesn't compel him to leave. When he kneels and puts an arm around Tommy's shoulders, the younger boy does not ask for Wilbur's end. And when he is scooped up in arms that no longer tremble, he does not try to escape. He merely buries his face in his best friend's coat and waits. Waits to be let go. Waits to be thrown from the clifftop. And somewhere along the journey, he blacks out again.

---

"Would you?" "No, but-" "Exactly! He's fucked up, we can't-" "We can't just abandon him, he's my T-" "The whole server'll be out for blood within the week! We can't hide him here!" "Why not? We have basements, and secret rooms and tunnels and-" "They'll find him, Tubbo." 

Ranboo puts his hands firmly on Tubbo's shoulders, staring right into his eyes. Tubbo freezes, as people often do when eye contact is maintained. They're silhouetted in the doorway, haloed by the light spilling in through the ajar curtains. "They'll tear this place apart if they think they'll find him here. We can't do that. We can't let them do that."

"But-" "Michael. That's who you're putting at risk if you do this. People'll tear Michael's loft apart if they think we've hidden him up there, you know they would! They'd frighten the life out of him." Tubbo puts his head in his hands, quickly wiping his hair back from his face. "A life for a- a life. That's what you're saying, basically. They'll kill Tommy. No question." "They'd kill Michael too!" "Would they? Who the fuck is this 'they'?" "Literally the whole server- Look, I haven't been around here as long as you have, alright, but I know enough. They'll come for Tommy, and they won't have mercy for anyone caught in the crossfire."

Tubbo looks up at his husband for a long time, his expression becoming guarded while his posture straightens. "You're right. People don't care who they hurt around here; it's all means to an end. But-" And his eyes dart towards Tommy, Ranboo's following, and while Ranboo looks shocked and maybe a little embarrassed to see Tommy awake, lying awkwardly dumped on the guest bed, Tubbo's expression doesn't change. "-I won't leave him. I did it once, and it was the worst damn choice I ever made." He sighs, taking Ranboo's hands and staring down at them while they speak. "I don't know what to do, truth be told. I won't let anyone hurt Michael, and if they want to try then perhaps I should get back in the nuke lab. But Tommy's a part of my family as much- as much as you are." His eyes flick to Tommy, and the barest hint of a smile appears. "Looks like it's us against the world, again." 

He leads Ranboo with one hand into the room as he sits beside the mute, exhausted form of his best friend. His best friend that leans into the arm he puts around his shoulder and tries not to start crying again. "Us against the world." Tubbo repeats. "And I ain't leaving you behind."

Tommy looks up at Ranboo, who's staring at him with an impassivity that borders on scary. "Did I tell you you have mesmerising eyes? Because I actually think they're very intimidating." The enderboy's face softens. "Where did you find him." He asks Tubbo drily as he also sits on the bed, the other side of Tubbo, who smiles. "You'll have to-" He cuts himself off. "You'll have to ask Wilbur." He says softly.

"Don't sacrifice yourselves for me." Two heads snap in Tommy's direction, and Ranboo tries to answer first. "Oh, well, we weren't exactly planning on-" "I mean like, your happiness." He quietens again. "Don't lose lives, don't jeopardise Snowchester because of me." "How about you let me decide what happens in my nation." Tubbo's voice has regained some element of its smile. "You focus on surviving, alright Big Man?" "Don't- Please, don't let me ruin all this. Again."

‘I don't deserve your support. I don't deserve a place in your family. I don't deserve you.’

"You deserve another chance."

They make no promises in the half-dark. There are no agreements made over the steaming teapot. There are no settlements reached as the minutes tick by, and nothing comes of the quiet hours spent by a warm fireplace. But there are enough things said in the silences to fill the whole house. And even if Tubbo can't make his best friend fall asleep anymore, he can still hold him close somewhere that maybe, once was, once could've been something like a home.

[antebunny]

Parent Trap AU 5

It’s a Parent Trap AU, plus on-the-run hacker!wwx and celebrity!lwj. Full series here.

-

At first, Lan Wangji finds writing songs to be extremely challenging.

He’s all but quit his job, and his son is gone. He’s alone in the house he once shared with his family, while his brother tries to keep quiet about pitying him and supporting him, and his uncle demands to know why he has no interest in searching for his son. He’s the one that files the kidnapping report, in the end. Not that it does much; they’re already searching for Wei Ying, since he escaped from prison.

All Lan Wangji really does, during this time, is cry by his piano, and sing.

The melodies come naturally to him. He’s been writing melodies for years, and these songs are no different. He has a thousand things to say, so some are angry, so fast he thinks he might tear his fingers on the guitar strings, some are soft with only piano accompaniment. All too soon he has dozens of recordings of phrases that can be put together into full-length songs. The only one he doesn’t record is the one he wrote for guqin, years ago.

But the lyrics, the lyrics he struggles with for ages. Not Lan Wangji finds himself at a loss for what to say. He doesn’t speak much, it’s true, but when he does he always finds precisely what he wants to say. Rather, Lan Wangji finds he has too much to say.

One Friday afternoon, he sits down on his couch and plays the same ten-minute ballad on his guitar, trying again and again to find a way to shorten it without feeling like he’s ripping a part of his already shattered heart out of his chest. While suppressing the urge to write more verses. He knows he can’t leave them all in; it’s too repetitive. He wants these songs to be good, though he doesn’t really plan on marketing them. A large part of him thinks it’ll always be like this. Just him and his instruments, alone in the living room, mourning over a love long lost, making himself cry over his own lyrics.

Still, Lan Wangji is a perfectionist at heart. He has to do something about the ten-minute ballad. It’s longer than two songs put together.

What if I made them two separate songs?

The thought comes to Lan Wangji suddenly, and he sets down his guitar to pick up the notebook containing the lyrics. This could work. He becomes convinced of this the longer he looks at the lyrics. He’ll never run out of things to say about Wei Ying, but if he separated each of those things into one song–that could work.

He chooses a different melody, edits the lyrics to fit it, picks out a theme, an aspect of Wei Ying to sing about, and suddenly he has a whole discography, and not a single published song.

Lan Wangji goes to his brother.

“Are you sure about this?” Lan Xichen asks, his brows pulled together in a small, worried dip.

“Mn.”

They stare at each other without speaking, because Lan Xichen knows that every concern he might think of, Lan Wangji has already over thought.

“Even if he hears them?”

Lan Wangji will never be famous enough that Wei Ying, wherever in the world he might be, will hear his songs. But if he does, then all the better. “Mn.”

Lan Xichen sighs. “I just don’t want to see you hurt anymore.”

Lan Wangji doesn’t think that’s possible. “Hm.”

Lan Xichen sighs again. “Okay,” he says. “If that’s what you want. I’m sure A-Yao knows someone. I’ll ask.”

It’s a while before he finds someone who’ll actually produce his music, but he’s happy with the person he ends up with. Luo Qingyang emails him back almost immediately after she listens to his demo.

I need you down here yesterday, she says. This is getting produced right now.

His first song, When We Were Young, is released as a single less than a year after the scandal that took Wei Ying from his life, under the stage name “Hanguang-jun.” He’s not sure it fits, but he wants to.

And suddenly, it looks like Lan Wangji might actually be that famous.

Of course, it’s still years in the future, so Lan Wangji carries on like he’s not. His second single, At First Glance, does even better than When We Were Young, and his manager starts bothering him about a music video. Apparently it’s expected of him, but Lan Wangji rejects all of the ideas that the directors Luo Qingyang finds for him come up with. They end up renting a house for a week and filming there, then going to a studio with lights and a piano. Lan Wangji dresses up for that and plays his heart out, and that’s it, that’s the music video.

His third single, Under Moonlight, is somehow more popular than his previous two combined. He has fans now, or maybe it’s just that he’s only now realizing it. He’s not quite sure what to do with that. The video this time takes place on the very bridge the song talks about. He doesn’t do much, since he rejected the idea of hiring actors to play the “counterpart,” so he’s confused as to why it continues gaining views on YouTube. Apparently he looks young. He’s not sure if this is insulting or not, but the internet would probably be shocked to learn he has a five-year-old son.

Lan Sizhui is too young to listen to music by himself, so Lan Wangji hopes that somewhere, there’s a radio playing one of the new hit songs by Hanguang-jun, and a father-son duo walking past.

Luo Qingyang bullies him into exactly one interview before his first album is released. On it, he accidentally confirms that all the songs on the album are about one person, and panics after that, not wishing to reveal anything about Wei Ying or even Lan Wangji’s own name on camera.

Apparently the mystery helps? Lan Wangji understands fame less and less the closer he comes to it. He thought if he just wrote good songs, enough people would listen to him that Wei Ying would hear it. Wei Ying is spotted in Thailand, and Lan Wangji ends up naming his first album Oceans Apart.

It sells, and it sells, and still, Wei Ying and their son are nowhere to be found.

-

Wei Wuxian is lying on a roof the night of his wedding anniversary.

Purple, white, and red fireworks explode in the black sky above him. There’s some celebration going on in the city, and Wei Wuxian takes advantage of it to pretend it’s in celebration of his anniversary.

Not that there’s much to celebrate. He doesn’t think it’s typical to celebrate the anniversary of a marriage which no longer exists, but their marriage didn’t end in the typical way either.

And he still loves Lan Zhan. Loves him so much that the sight of rabbits brings him to tears. So much that he feels like a traitor whenever someone so much as smiles in his direction, so much that he can’t imagine himself flirting with someone. So much that he cries on the roof when the fireworks light up the sky.

“Papa?”

Wei Wuxian looks to the right, and there’s Wei Sizhui, who is sometimes the only thing keeping Wei Wuxian going on his darkest nights. He’s nestled up with Wei Wuxian’s arm around him, small face peering earnestly at him from the dark. “What?”

“Why are you crying?”

Wei Wuxian raises one hand instinctively to rub the tears away. He’d forgotten about that. He’s thrown himself fully into caring for his son, making sure that he has clothes and good food to eat, which is hard when they never stay in a place for long and Wei Wuxian is paranoid of anyone who stares at them too long. Sometimes he wonders if he’s really doing any good, keeping Wei Sizhui away from his other father and uncles and aunts, from a happy childhood with friends and a school. And every time, he blinks back to the moment he woke up in the prison having narrowly avoided being murdered, and knows that Wei Sizhui is still safer with him than he’d be if he was still there, within the Jins reach.

“Nothing,” Wei Wuxian says. “It’s nothing.”

Wei Sizhui frowns. “But Papa is sad,” he declares.

Wei Wuxian presses the back of his hand over his eyes. Fireworks crack so loudly it muffles his shaky inhale. Tears stream down his cheeks and around his ears. Red lights flash across his eyelids.

-

White lights flash through the stage, focusing on the solitary grand piano, and Lan Wangji, in his white suit, seated on the piano bench. A hush falls across the massive crowd. He adjusts his microphone slightly, and places his fingers gently atop the keys. The cameras zoom in on him.

And Lan Wangji sings.

-

“I’m just remembering,” Wei Wuxian whispers. “Someone I used to know.”

“Is it Dad?” Wei Sizhui asks timidly.

Wei Wuxian inhales shakily again, then wraps his arm back around his son. “Yeah,” he admits. “It’s your other father.”

He hasn’t looked back since he ran away. Countless times, he’s thought about Googling the Jiangs in an internet cafe, just to check on how they’re doing. They have social media profiles, so he could. He could. But even the slightest hint of connection could ruin what Wei Wuxian has managed to salvage. The Jiangs would fight for him. Would drag their names in the mud for him, and he can’t let them do that to themselves, so he cuts all ties and doesn’t look back.

Wei Wuxian hasn’t dared to search Lan Wangji since he ran away.

-

“Hello,” Lan Wangji sings, and the crowd cheers.“It’s me. I was wondering if after all these years you’d like to meet, to go over everything. They say that time’s supposed to heal you, but I ain’t done much healing.”

Before he knows it, there’s tears streaming down his face. They drip onto his nice white suit, but the music doesn’t pause.

-

Hello from the other side

“Will we ever see him again?” Wei Sizhui asks plaintively.

I must have called a thousand times

Wei Wuxian tries to shake his head, his shoulders pressed against the dusty brick roof. “I don’t know, baby,” he says.

To tell you I’m sorry for everything that I’ve done

“But why not?” Wei Sizhui pushes. It’s far from the first time he’s asked, but each day it gets harder and harder to answer.

Hello from the outside

“Because he’s very, very far away,” Wei Wuxian replies this time, and tries not to think of Lan Zhan as he last saw him, sleeping peacefully in their bed the night Wei Wuxian broke in and took Wei Sizhui with him. “Oceans away.”

At least I can say that I tried

Eventually, the fireworks stop, and Wei Sizhui falls asleep, head resting in the crook of Wei Wuxian’s arm. Wei Wuxian raises one hand to the midnight sky, pretends he can reach through the vast expanse to wherever his family is. “Happy anniversary, Lan Zhan,” he whispers. “I miss you.”

To tell you I’m sorry for breaking your heart

Eventually, the song ends, and the cheers deafen the stadium. The lights go out long after Lan Wangji has gotten up from his seat and stepped away from the microphone. The tears on his face are invisible until the cameras focus in on him walking.

“Happy anniversary, Wei Ying,” he whispers, before he picks up the microphone to thank the crowd. “I love you.”

[deiliamedlini]

Whumptober 2021- The Darkness I Know

Chapter 4

No. 4- Trust fall

“Do you trust me?” | taken hostage | pushed

Fic Summary: After the world as she knew it was destroyed by the corruption of Malice, Zelda allies herself with her saviors from captivity: a disgruntled former governor, an alert paramedic, a cocky pilot, an excessively overt optimist, and a blind strategist. While the corrupted, malice-filled Yiga Clan looks for revenge on them, Zelda has to learn how important it is to find family in others... and how much more dangerous the stakes become if she fails to protect them.

Previous/ Chapter Index/ Next

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Zelda’s room was an absolute prison.

There was no way that someone built this room for comfort, or peace. No one would find a sense of calm and relaxation in here. It was built to inspire fear, and that’s exactly what it did.

The door was locked, of course. No amount of jiggling the handle would do anything to help her. But when she turned, she was met by a sickening, neon orange wall, with white floors; her eyes hurt simply from looking at it all.

There was no window in the small room, but she hadn’t expected it. She figured they were in the middle of the compound, just based on what little information she’d managed to gather. But there was nothing on the walls, nothing but the painful color. It left the room feeling barren and empty; a cold place rather than somewhere warm and inviting.

The bed was small and set on a metal frame, and when she sat on it, she sank into an uncomfortable gap that had been left by an apparent, numerous occupants. And the sheets didn’t appear to have been changed in the time between people either, given their frayed, tattered, and—to Zelda’s utter dismay—odorous state.

No, this room was not meant to be lived in. This was another tactic, another measure for her to overcome. This was to scare her out of joining the Yiga, as if she had any other choice right now. Joining was the only way out.

She sat in the corner of the room on the floor, hoping that was a safer bet than the bed was, and pictured just how many people were gathered in that room. Not one of them tried to defect? Every one of them was here of their own volition?

Zelda shuddered. What if there was a ploy, a twist? What if somehow, they really could convince her to become a Malice-loving zealot? Who would she even be?

Perhaps the room was meant to test her in more ways than one, because the only time the door opened was for someone to drop off food that she was too afraid to eat, and then they’d leave with the tray and Zelda would wander the empty room trying to keep herself entertained.

She’d been in the Yiga’s hideout for a week now: three days in the cells, and four in the room.

Four, right?

She’d lost count, honestly.

On day… two—she believed—she accepted the food with caution. They wouldn’t try to pull the same trick twice, right?  Besides, she’d need her strength if she wanted to have a chance of fighting.

That was what this room really did: broke people until they no longer had fight left inside them.

Before the Malice had taken over, Zelda was fresh out of school. She did some sports in high school, and she ran in her spare time, but athleticism wasn’t her forte. After, however, Zelda had become proficient in fending off the more annoying crazed creatures, and the occasional human. She could use a bow, a knife, and herself to throw an enemy off balance. But here? Here she was surrounded and completely alone.

Zelda loved rulers, but there were none in the room.

She took her arm and placed it beside the pillow she refused to use on the bed she wouldn’t sit on. The pillow was about 1 ¼’s of her arm. The blanket was 5 arms in length, and 3 wide. The door was 2. The room was 14.

Goddess, there was little else she could do to keep herself entertained.

She took her place on the floor, stretched out and groaning as her bones snapped and cracked, begging for her to be kinder to them. She flipped onto her back and let out a heavy sigh as her back thanked her.

“Let me out,” Zelda said to no one in particular, and in a very normal voice. She didn’t shout or call for help, but she needed to speak. “Please, just let me leave this stupid room!”

Her stomach growled. Weak. She was weak with hunger. Her legs didn’t want her to stand back up, and she was okay with that.

How many fibers were on the frayed end of the blanket, Zelda wondered?

It was faint, but Zelda’s ears perked up at an unfamiliar noise outside her door, causing her to sit up faster than she ever had before. It was quick, and gone in an instant, but it was there.

She crawled to her door, staying low in case… well, she didn’t know why. Just in case.

With her ear to the door, she closed her eyes to block out her other senses, and listened.

Boom!

Zelda shrieked and fell backwards as the sound of something hard and heavy connected with her door, shaking it with her head still against the wood.

There was the unmistakable sound of a scuffle, and the door shook with several thuds, occasionally followed by a grunt or two.

Then, it was silent.

Zelda ran to the door and pressed her ear there once again, but she heard nothing.

“Hey!” she finally called, banging her palm on the door as hard as she could, a surge of adrenalin bursting through her tired, sore, and hungry body. “Hey!” She tried, banging incessantly.

Zelda had hoped it would get someone’s attention. She hoped someone would open the door, and allow her to escape.

She didn’t expect to hear a man’s confused voice on the other side.

“Yes?”

Eyes bugging out, Zelda banged the door again. “Hey! Who’s this!? Let me out!”

She heard the man grunt. “Who is this? Why should I let you out?”

“Aren’t you a Yiga?” she asked jokingly.

“No.”

No?

“No?”

“No.”

Zelda let her hands slide along the wood, trying the door handle one more time, fruitlessly. “My village was massacred, I was betrayed, and they’re trying to kill me! Please let me out!”

“I don’t know you,” he said with a scoff.

Zelda banged her fists on the door. “Please! Let me out! It’s locked from the outside!”

“Stop doing that and maybe I will!”

She saw the doorknob jiggle before it stopped. “Hang on,” he said, just before she heard retreating footsteps.

She wanted to beg him not to go, but she simply held her breath and waited, trying to think of the best way to attack. There were literally no possible weapons in the room, so she imagined the door opening, and her coming out swinging instead. Of course, if they had a weapon, she’d be done for and back in the room.

Footsteps were on the other side again. “You in there?” he asked.

“Where did you think I went?”

She could hear him chuckle. “Help me out,” he said to someone else.

A woman muttered something that she couldn’t hear, but there was a thud, and the door shook.

“Back up!” the man called.

Zelda did, wondering what they were doing.

And she yelped when a giant metal sword pierced the wood.

Then again.

Another sword, and the wood was splintering.

“Goddess,” she mumbled, watching the wood be torn to pieces in random places.

It didn’t make sense until there were a few more thuds, and the center of the door was a hole just big enough for her.

“Hello?”

Zelda waited, unsure if they were just going to stab her when all was said and done. But that was probably too much effort.

“Damn,” a woman said, her voice deep and authoritative, but also melodic and charming. “That was fun.”

“Good thing we cleared this area,” the man said, his voice moving, as if he were looking around.

“Hey,” the woman said, peering at Zelda in the room. She was hunched over, so she was very tall, and her red hair was long and wild and wavy as it hung in front of her face. “Coming? We’re on a tight schedule.”

“Yes,” she breathed, rushing toward the gap.

The woman disappeared. “Can you help her out? I’m going to go find Daruk.”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

Zelda watched the woman run by the door, and a new figure replaced her.

The man was not nearly the same height as the woman, and Zelda wondered if they might actually just be the same, judging from where he stood. His partially gloved hand ran along the gap just before he shoved his whole arm inside, ready to take Zelda’s hand.

“It’ll be a tight squeeze. I’ll help pull you out.”

“How do you know I’m not really a Yiga?” she asked. “How do I know you’re not a Yiga? Am I supposed to take you at your word?”

“That would be silly. Let me prove it to you instead,” he said, wiggling his fingers.

Hesitation was not something Zelda liked experiencing, so she fought past it and gripped the man’s hard, calloused hand. His fingers closed tight around hers. “Let me know when you’re ready for me to pull.”

“I will,” she said, getting her leg up, but then getting stuck. “Oh, this is just going to hurt a bit.”

“What is?”

“I’m stuck. I think… just pull me. I just want to get out of here.”

“We don’t injure people for no reason, he said with an exasperated sigh. Come on, let me help.”

His hand didn’t move, waiting for her permission. “Fine.”

“What are you wearing?”

Zelda’s heart was already racing from the nerves, and the excitement of getting out of here. But this man… was something. “Excuse me?”

“I can’t see well. What are you wearing?”

“Pants and…”

“Good enough,” he said, reaching forward and sliding his hand quickly down her back before grabbing her by the waist of her pants and pulling her with him.

She didn’t land on the ground, but instead, found herself out of that cursed room, and in the arms of a total stranger.

Sudden tiredness washed over her. “Why did you even let me out? Do you trust me, or something?”

“No,” he snorted, letting her go when he felt she was solid. “No, but we’re already on a rescue mission. Let’s just add one more.”

“A rescue?”

“Yeah, a man with blue hair should be prisoner here. We’re here to break him out, but we’ve been scouring this place.”

“Wait, blue hair? I think I know where he is.”

The man’s blonde, messy mop hung in front of his eyes. It must be annoying, Zelda figured, but she wasn’t going to voice that opinion. Some of his hair was tied back, but not enough to be neat or helpful.

“You do?” he asked, his interest piqued.

“I believe so.”

“What’s your name so I can thank the Goddess for you at night?” he laughed, before picking up a long staff he’d leaned against a wall.

“Zelda,” she said, instinctively holding out her hand for a handshake.

“Zelda? Good to meet you. I’m Link.” He held his hand out beside hers. She stared at his hand like it were doing a trick before simply sliding her hand into his.

Smoothing her hand through her hair awkwardly, she looked around, getting her bearings. “Okay, let’s go.”