#me: validate my impossible-on-several-fronts dream

[thedilfdiaries]

I'll never stop makin' you feel this good

bfd!joel miller x f!reader

masterlist

↳ wordcount: 3,795

↳ summary: After returning to your hometown, you reconnect with your childhood friend Sarah and her father Joel, a retired firefighter. As you spend time with him, you can't deny the spark between you, and soon you find yourself on a date with Joel, where things quickly heat up and the chemistry between you becomes impossible to ignore.

~or~

↳ a dom!daddy date

↳ warnings: 18+, dom!Joel, implied age gap, light spanking, fingering, light male masterbation, public stuff? But nothing too wild.

↳ notes: my favorite line became the title since I couldn't find a song I liked. Ty @saradika-graphics as always for the dividers 💓 and tysm for the love and support on all my fics so far. As a brand new writer its been so incredibly validating. I've gained so many amazing followers, moots, and friends in the like two weeks I've been here. I LOVE YOU ❤️

After being away for several years to pursue your dreams of becoming a marine biologist, you return to your hometown to visit your family and your childhood friend Sarah Miller and her father Joel, a retired firefighter. Sarah was like a sister to you growing up, and you were excited to catch up with her and see how much she had grown.

As you walk up to the Miller's house, you can't help but feel a little nostalgic. You and Sarah used to play in the front yard for hours, pretending to be superheroes and exploring the neighborhood.

Joel greets you with a warm smile as he opens the door. "Howdy kiddo. Missed seein’ ya around," he says, extending his hand for a friendly handshake. And as your hand meets his, he takes in your appearance, he can't help but notice how much you've grown up, how much more mature you've become. He quickly clears his throat, trying to tame his thoughts.

You grin and shake his hand. "Hey, Mr. Miller. It's good to be back," you reply, trying to hide your nervousness.

"Mr. Miller makes me sound old. Just call me Joel,” he says, chuckling.

You giggle, "alright Joel it is."

Joel nods and stands straight. "Well, kiddo, how've you been? You look good."

"I've been really good, Mr. Miller - uh Joel. College is going well," you reply, feeling a little more at ease.

"College, huh? And what do you wanna be when you grow up?" Joel asks.

You giggle. “I'm not exactly five anymore, but I'm going to school to be a marine biologist," you say, your eyes sparkling with excitement.

Joel's face lights up in surprise. "Marine biologist... that's gotta be one dangerous job. You know, I saw a show on Netflix once about shark attacks. I thought a pretty thing like you shouldn't be near those monsters, they'll eat'cha whole."

You chuckle, "Yeah, they're quite terrifying, but I might have learned a thing or two in school.” You wink playfully.

“And just what do you learn about shark attacks in marine biology school?” Joel asks, skeptical.

You smile. “ Don't worry, I'll make sure to keep my professors in the loop," you reply, trying to keep a straight face.

Joel can't help but smirk, “alright darlin’, and moves to the side to let you inside.

After a few hours of catching up and reminiscing about old times with Sarah, it's time for you to leave. But just as you're about to head out the door, Joel stops you. "Uh hey, listen, could I interest you in dinner sometime? I know a good steakhouse nearby. I think we could have a good time and catch up," he says, with a hopeful expression on his face.

Caught off guard, you're unsure if he's asking you on a date, but it feels innocent enough, so you agree. "Yah, that'd be nice, Joel," you say, trying to keep a straight face. Secretly hoping it was intended for more.

"Great! I'll pick you up at eight, okay? Here, I'll text you the name of the place, and you can look it up if you'd like," Joel says, as he hands you his phone with the contact app already open.

You take his phone and place your number in it.

"Thanks, kiddo. Hey, you okay? You look a little anxious for a steak dinner," Joel says, noticing your nervousness.

"Not at all, looking forward to it," you reply, with a confident smile. You place a hand gently on his arm, feeling a warmth radiate between you two.

Joel smiles and says, "Alright, kiddo. I'll see you later, then."

"See ya later, Joel," you say, as you walk out the door, feeling a sense of excitement and anticipation for your dinner date with Joel.

You're excited as you wait for Joel to pick you up for your dinner date. When he arrives, he knocks at your door, and when you open it, he says, "You ready to eat some steak, kiddo?"

You open the door, ready as ever. “Joel, you don't have to keep calling me kiddo. I'm not a child anymore.”

“Alright, darlin’, let's get going, then.” He holds out his hand, and you take it. When you get to his car, he opens the car door for you. You hurry in, eager to spend time with Joel.

“There's some great steak at this restaurant. You'll love the atmosphere there, it's a classy place. The staff is professional, not chatty, and very good customer service.” He smiles as he puts his car in gear and starts driving”

You smile and look forward as he drives. “I can't wait.”

When you arrive, he gets out and opens the door for you, then locks up his car. “Ladies first. That's how me and your old man were raised.” He laughs as you walk toward the restaurant.

You chuckle, “such a gentleman.” You get to a big glass door, a maitre d' greets you and seats you in a booth at a table for two. “Doesn't look too crowded tonight.” He takes off his jacket and hangs it on the back of his chair.

You take your coat off as well, revealing a very fitted dress. “It's beautiful, Joel.”

He looks at you and smiles, staring at you for a second “You look beautiful, very nice dress. You're much more grown up now than the last time I saw you.”

You feel yourself getting warm as you sit down, “thanks, you're not too bad yourself.” You manage to wink at Joel.

He laughs, “I'm sure you've got a lotta boys chasin’ you.” He pauses for a moment, eyeing you up and down before he continues, “that dress sure does suit you darlin’.” He grins mischievously.

You giggle, “well not exactly the boys I want to be chasing me.” You grin at him playfully. “I'm glad you like it, I just got it, actually.”

“Oh? And who exactly are you hoping to chase you.”

“I dunno, someone a little older, strong, I'm tired of boys.” You look into his eyes. “A real man who knows how to take care of a woman.”

He grins, leaning in a bit “So, you like a dominant man, huh? Would you say I fit the bill?”

You're a little surprised by Joel's straightforwardness but lean in closer, testing the waters a bit. “Well, I'm not so sure just how dominant you are, Mr. Miller, I might need you to show me.” You wink, biting your bottom lip.

He leans in even closer across the table and whispers in your ear. “Don't talk like that, or you're gonna get me all riled up. A girl like you should be careful about what you say.”

You whisper breathily in his ear, "I like a little danger.”

His eyes widen, shocked that you would say something so…naughty. “Are you tryin’ to get me to do something at the dinner table?” He says in a hushed tone. “Don't tempt me, baby.”

“Yes, sir.” You sit back and wink at him, liking his authoritative behavior but still feeling a bit defiant. You run your foot up his leg till it hits his thigh, your gaze locked onto his eyes.

He grins, placing his hand on your leg, slowly moving it up your dress, “You're playing with fire, darlin’.” His hand slowly makes its way up your leg, and you can feel the heat building between your legs.

You look into his eyes and challenge him, "Hmm, well, what exactly would you do with a girl like me?"

Joel's hand is now resting on your inner thigh, and you can feel his fingers lightly tracing circles on your skin. He leans in closer to you, "I think you already know what I'd do to you." You feel a shiver run down your spine.

The waiter comes to your table and asks if everything is alright, but you barely register his presence. All you can focus on is the feeling of Joel's hand on your thigh and the way his eyes are burning into yours. Joel leans back in his chair and sips his wine, never taking his eyes off of you. You can feel your heart racing as you stare back at him, wondering what he's going to do next.

The waiter brings your wine that Joel ordered, and you take a sip, feeling the warmth spread through your body. Joel's hand is still on your thigh, and you can feel him slowly sliding it up higher and higher.

"I love the way you breathe when I touch you. Makes me feel all-powerful." Joel's voice is filled with desire, and you can't help but feel the same way.

You look at him, challenging him, "You think you can tame me, Mr. Miller?"

Joel grins, "I don't like the word tame. I prefer the word... break. If I'm gonna take charge, I'm gonna take it completely, and this dress of yours ain't survivin' the night."

Your heart is pounding in your chest as Joel's hand reaches the top of your thigh. You can feel his fingers lightly grazing your wet panties, and you gasp at the sensation. "Think you can handle this old cowboy darlin’?" Joel's voice is low and dangerous, and you can feel yourself getting lost in his eyes.

You nod, unable to speak, as Joel's fingers start to move in slow circles over your clit. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, and you moan softly as Joel's fingers quicken their pace. Suddenly, Joel pulls his hand away, leaving you wanting more. He stands up, offering to help you up as well. "You really think I’d let a pretty thing like you come in public? Come on, it’s time for us to eat in private."

You follow Joel out of the restaurant, feeling dizzy with lust. You can barely believe what just happened. As you walk to Joel's car, you can feel his hand on the small of your back, guiding you towards his black Mustang. You slide into the passenger seat, feeling like the luckiest girl in the world. Joel starts the car, and you take off towards Joel's place.

You feel so innocent and young next to Joel, but you love the feeling. You follow him through his house until you reach a small room with a couch, a TV on one side, and a fireplace on the other. Joel pours you a glass of wine and hands it to you, his eyes never leaving yours. You take a sip, feeling the warmth spread through your body.

He goes back to the kitchen to just grab the entire bottle. You make your way around, looking at all his stuff. You pick up a small carving, accidentally dropping it on the floor and bending over to pick it up, but your dress doesn't fully cover you. Joel walks back at the perfect time and can see everything, but you don't notice, so he's quiet and sets the bottle down before moving toward you.

"Oh, I like this little maneuver of yours,” Joel's voice is low and gravelly as he takes in the sight of you bent over, your dress riding up to reveal your lacy underwear. He steps closer to you, his hand tracing a path between your legs, stopping just shy of your center. "I like it a lot," he growls, his breath hot on your neck.

You gasp as you feel his fingers brush against your sensitive skin, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. You're unable to resist the urge to push back against him, wanting more of his touch. Joel takes advantage of your position, his fingers slipping beneath your underwear as he explores your wet folds. You moan softly, your head falling back as he teases you with his touch.

"So, so wet for me," Joel murmurs in your ear, his fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles. "I can feel how much you want me.” You can't deny it - you want him more than you've ever wanted anyone before. You push back against him, trying to get him to give you more. Joel chuckles, his fingers stilling for a moment before he gives you what you want. He plunges two fingers deep inside you, his thumb rubbing slow circles over your clit. You cry out in pleasure, your body trembling as he brings you closer and closer to the edge. But just as you're about to come, Joel pulls away, leaving you wanting. You turn to look at him, your eyes pleading for more.

He grins wickedly, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Not yet, darlin’ hold on for me.” Joel stands up, walking over to the fireplace and stoking the flames. You can't take your eyes off of him, watching as he moves with a confidence and authority that makes your heart race.

He turns back to you, his eyes blazing with desire. "Take off your dress. I want to see you." You hesitate for a moment, but the look in Joel's eyes tells you that he's not going to take no for an answer. You stand up straight, reaching behind you to unzip your dress. As the dress falls to the ground, you stand before Joel in nothing but your underwear. He lets out a low whistle, his eyes taking in every inch of your body. "Fuck, you're beautiful," he growls, his eyes dark with desire.

You feel a shiver run down your spine as Joel's eyes roam over your body. You've never felt so vulnerable, so exposed - and yet so wanted. Joel reaches down, adjusting himself as he stares at you. "Take off your underwear, too. I want to see all of you."

You nod, your hands shaking as you slip your underwear down your legs. You step out of them, standing before Joel completely naked. He lets out a low groan, his eyes devouring every inch of your body. Joel reaches down, pulling his cock out of his jeans and boxers. He starts stroking himself, his eyes never leaving yours. "Watch me darlin’. Watch as I stroke my cock, thinking about all the things I'm gonna to do to you."

You can't take your eyes off of him as he strokes himself, his hand moving up and down his shaft. You've never seen anything so hot before. You watch as Joel continues to stroke himself, his eyes locked on yours. You can feel your body responding to the sight of him touching himself.

"C'mere darlin," he beckons, patting the space beside him. As you move to sit next to him, his fingers begin to trace a path up your leg, inching closer and closer to your wet center. Once there, his touch becomes more deliberate, circling your clit with a gentle touch that sends shivers down your spine. You can't help but moan softly, your hips bucking up to meet his skilled fingers.

He stops for a moment and with a firm but gentle grip, Joel guides you to turn over, positioning you face down, ass up on the couch, he finds your clit quickly again as his other hand comes down on your ass with a sharp smack, the sound echoing in the small room. The sting of his hand on your skin only serves to heighten your arousal. His hand comes down on your backside once again, the sound of his palm against your skin filling the room. The mixture of pleasure and pain is intoxicating, leaving you breathless and wanting more. Joel smirks, his hand coming down again and again, the pain mixing with pleasure in a way that leaves you dizzy.

"You like that, don't you?" Joel's voice is low and rough, his fingers still moving in slow circles over your clit. "You like it when I take charge, when you don’t have to do anything but what I tell you, no thinkin’ just doin’."

You nod, unable to speak. It's true - you do like it. You like the way Joel makes you feel helpless, his to do with as he pleases. Joel growls, his fingers plunging deep inside you again. This time, he doesn't stop, his hand moving faster and faster as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.

You moan louder, your hips bucking up to meet his hand. Joel's other hand comes down on your ass again, only adding to the pleasure. Finally, Joel's fingers still, his fingers resting deep inside you as you come hard. You cry out, your body trembling as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you.

Joel pulls his fingers out of you slowly, holding them up to your lips. "Taste yourself. See how sweet you are." You open your mouth, your tongue darting out to taste your own juices. It's unlike anything you've ever tasted before, and you can't get enough.

Joel smirks, his hand moving up to your hair. He grips it tightly, pulling your head back so that you're looking up at him. "You're mine now, and I'll do whatever I want with you." All you can do is whimper in excitment, your heart racing in your chest. You've never felt so alive. Joel releases your hair, his hand moving back down to your thigh. "Good girl," he murmurs, his fingers tracing lazy circles over your skin.

You lean back against the couch, feeling boneless and sated. Joel leans down, his lips brushing against your ear. "I'm going to make you scream, again and again and again."

Joel stands up, his hands moving to the buttons on his own shirt. You watch as he undoes each one, revealing his muscular chest and arms. Your eyes widen as he kicks off his shoes and socks, followed by his pants and boxers. His cock stands at attention, and you can't help but lick your lips in anticipation. Joel's eyes follow your gaze, a smirk crossing his lips. "Like what you see, darlin'?" Joel steps closer to you, his hands reaching out to grab your ass.

Joel lifts you up with ease, his strong arms supporting your weight as your legs wrap around his waist. You can feel the head of his cock lightly brush against you, causing you to gasp at the contact. He takes a moment to look into your eyes, a smoldering gaze that makes your heart race.

With a gentle yet firm grip, he guides his cock to your entrance, teasing you with small thrusts that make you squirm with anticipation. You can feel how wet and ready you are for him, your body begging for more.

Joel then slowly pushes himself into you, filling you up completely. You let out a moan as he bottoms out, his cock buried deep inside you. He pauses for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size. You can feel the warmth and tension building up inside you, your body responding to his cock sitting inside you.

With ease, Joel carries you upstairs to his bed, never breaking eye contact with you. Once he reaches the bed, he tosses you down onto it, his body following you down. He positions himself at your entrance, teasing you with his cock. "You ready for me, darlin'?"

You nod, your body trembling with anticipation. Joel thrusts inside you, filling you up completely. You cry out in pleasure, your nails digging into his back as he starts to move. His thrusts are hard and fast, each one sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Joel's hands are on your hips, holding you in place as he fucks you. "You like that, darlin'? You like it when I fuck you like a dirty little slut?" Joel growls, his fingers digging into your hips. You moan, your body responding to his words. “Tell me how much you like it, darlin'. Tell me how much you love my cock inside you," Joel commands, his fingers tightening around your hips.

"I love it. I love your cock inside me. Please, don't stop," you beg.

Joel smirks, "I'll never stop fucking you, darlin'. I'll never stop making you feel this good." Joel's thrusts become more erratic as he chases his own release, his cock driving deeper into you with each stroke. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your body begging for release.

"Come for me, darlin'. Come all over my cock," Joel growls, his voice deep and raw with desire.

His fingers tighten around your hips, pulling you closer as he pounds into you. You can feel every inch of him, his thick cock stretching you wide as he fucks you hard and fast.

Your body trembles with pleasure, your pussy clenching around him as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. Joel's thrusts become more urgent, his hips slamming into yours as he chases his own release.

"Fuck, I'm close," he growls, his breath hot against your neck.

You can feel him tensing up, his cock swelling inside you as he gets closer and closer to the edge. Joel's thrusts become more erratic, his hips slamming into yours as he chases his own release.

With a loud groan, Joel stills, his cock buried deep inside you as he comes. You can feel him pulsing inside you, a feeling you never knew you'd love so much. Joel collapses on top of you, his breathing heavy as he pants against your neck.

You wrap your arms around him, feeling more content and satisfied than you ever have before. Joel's cock is still buried deep inside you, and you can feel him softening as he comes down from his high. You moan softly as he slips out of you, your body missing the feeling of him inside you.

Joel rolls over onto his back, his chest heaving as he catches his breath. You can see the satisfied look on his face, and you can't help but smile, your bodies entwined as you lay together.

Joel's cock is still glistening with your juices, and you can't help but reach out and touch him. You wrap your hand around his softening length, feeling him twitch at your touch. "You feel amazing," you murmur, your fingers tracing the veins that run along the length of his cock.

Joel smiles, his hand reaching out to touch your face. "You're amazing," he replies, his voice soft and filled with emotion.

You lay there together, your bodies entwined as you bask in the afterglow of your lovemaking. You feel more connected to Joel than ever before, your bodies and souls intertwined as you lay there in the peaceful silence, content and fulfilled in each other's arms.

[saschaederer]

(Disclaimer: This publication contains angel numbers again. In the future, I will not issue any warnings for such, as I will assume that other than possibly in specific instances, single such numbers are too risky for the handlers to program into multiples, triggering anything beyond the ordinary, simply upon encounter)

* Having been biologically conditioned to snore when I laugh out loud

* Several signals pertaining to Scarlett Peterson, being happy

* Amphetamine smells

* Several mental images of a glowing red dot (like a laser), projected optically. My keyboard whenever I plug it into my computer, not running it’s RGB but instead only a red light glowing up (both of those, pertaining to ‘The Eye of Sauron’)

* “Potentially“ (in ‘Taylor Swift’ voice, initially pertaining to an alternative wording to a text I published recently, if I remember correctly)

* “(Read at your own) will” (in ‘Jordan Peterson’ voice, initially pertaining to the degree of choice multiples might’ve had in reading the recent threats, or not)

* A train outside of my window, running where it should be physically impossible for it to

*  Artificial dream where KarissaEats appeared in front of me in a dark room, similar to the fantasies which I’ve always had of people watching me, only that it apparently represented the deepest level of hell in ‘Dante’s Inferno’. I asked her a question and she answered (in German): “Weil du mich (hint)ergangen hast (‘Because you (be)trayed me’)”, somehow omitting the first syllable. She asked: “Tell me, is there only one god?” and somehow, even though I knew it was false, I took all my conviction together and answered with “Ja, auf jeden Fall. 100% (‘Yes, definitely. 100%’)”, startling her, while suddenly the room and the floor beneath her were illuminated in a cone-shape, and the entire audience surrounding me laughed in exactly the same way, Tim Walz does (sadistically, intentionally terrifying (though unintentional when it comes to his front alters), representing or symbolized by a specific mask or masks, in a caricature of good). Note: By definition, everyone has an infinite number of (unconscious) gods, however, God is paramount. About the legitimacy and validity of Lucifer as one’s premier god, I have written extensively, but haven’t published it yet as it’s at least originally been intended for the video which I wanted to make.

* Pseudo hallucinations of eyes looking at me, menacingly (initial reference to Mikhaila Peterson)

* Threat published yesterday, of a mental image reminiscent of the pseudo hallucination of an eye looking at me menacingly, mixing with an image of ‘Black Saturn’ – The rings of such Saturn slashing my face (initial reference to me receiving facial torture, initial reference to Mikhaila Peterson having commanded, negotiated or abnegated such unto me)

* Me leaving out the stars at the beginning of the paragraphs in the publication yesterday (as an experiment, put in motion by the system. Initial reference to Mikhaila Peterson having decided against getting tortured and acting out the Antichrist spirit towards me instead)

* My keyboard’s RGB swirling in a rainbow pattern (partial reference to me getting castrated, partial reference to Scarlett Peterson getting turned into a multiple)

* Smells pertaining to my blue cheese-cappelletti dish

* A train outside of my window, going unrealistically fast (initial reference to the brainwash intensifying for people) - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nK_b8gTZ35s (initial reference to people being called to gang up on me)

* Artificial dream where I was throwing around plush toys from the videogame ‘League of Legends’, for example Teemo, or a pinwheel

* Sounds pertaining to domestic violence by Jordan Peterson

* The lights outside of my window signaling ‘no one’ (four lights in a line, with the ‘hero’ light in the middle left out) – several black cars at the entrance outside of my apartment, blinking, or having their hazard lights on – “Heinrich Arndt” – A white car with a red logo, having it’s hazard lights on – a red car parking in front of the grocery store, having a ‘666’ number plate – A blue BMW X2 with a ‘1111’ number plate, parking next to the bus station (the X being a reference to torture)

* My back hurting (initial reference to Jordan Peterson)

* “Restaurant” (Coded reference: Feces (When having sex, fetish), initial reference to Tomoko Kuriyama experiencing such

* “Might (just as well)” (in ‘Taylor Swift’ voice, initially pertaining to an alternative wording of a new text that I’ve drafted)

* “Homunculus”

* Sounds of female crying (initial reference to KarissaEats, initial reference to a message I initially wanted to write her, but didn’t end up doing)

* Mental image of an elderly man having sex with a young woman – mental image of such woman sitting on top of the man’s face, giving her oral sex (initial reference to Jordan and Mikhaila Peterson)

* “They kinda look like mine” (initially pertaining to how anyone might think so about the breasts of a pornstar, watching through my eyes)

* Moaning sounds

* Rough gulping (fellatio) sounds (initial reference to Mikhaila Peterson)

* Mental image of Taylor Swift masturbating (and defecating on me)

* Mental image of Tomoko Kuriyama, masturbating (and defecating on me)

* Torture threat (initial reference to me)

* The water in my bathroom sink (which I didn’t leave on) having been running the whole night

______________________________________________

 

REPORTS:

* Apple music on my PC being completely buggy and unable to play many songs entirely, since a while

* My ear still ringing

______________________________________________

 

PLEASE READ:

 

How I handle threats I receive (Last Update: 20. 11. 2024):

[cleanlenins]

Ectober Day 6: Witching Hour

Words Spoken at the Witching Hour

Chapter 2

Jack and Maddie disproved Ouija boards in College, but why not give them another try? However, fixing their mistakes will take more than just an old board and some candles.

AO3

While her violent outburst had been cathartic, Maddie was regretting her rash decision to destroy the ancient spirit board. She sifted through the ashes, pulling larger pieces of charred wood from the pile and dumping them into the bin. Her gloves were covered in soot and charcoal, the dusty particles sliding over the rubbery texture. She grabbed the planchet, and examined it. The dark ash seemed grey next to the impossible black of the little cursor. She clenched her fist around it and started to toss it into the trash can. But hesitated.

“Mom? Oh my God, what happened here?” Maddie whipped around to see Jazz standing at the door to the kitchen. She had one hand covering her mouth as she gaped at the mess. The table, while still standing, had a huge whole burned into the center. Maddie knew that she must look a sight as well, eyes puffy and red from lack of sleep and soot stains on her cheek.

“We had a bit of an accident with our experiment last night,” Maddie said smoothly. It was what she and Jack had decided to tell the kids until they had a chance to sort through their thoughts. Before they had a chance to figure out if there was any validity to Phantom’s claim.

When Maddie had bought the spirit board, the lady had told her that spirits could not lie while communicating through the object. Maddie had never expected the blasted thing to work, so she hadn’t set up any more trustworthy methods for determining if a ghost was lying or not. An oversight on her part based on her own hubris.

“I thought you guys agreed that you would keep all of your experiments in the lab from now on?” Jazz crossed her arms.

“I’m sorry sweetie. We didn’t realize it was something that would turn...explosive. We will be sure to keep things downstairs from now on,” Maddie assured Jazz. Jazz looked skeptical, but did not press the point. Instead, she skirted around the stains on the linoleum and began to make her some breakfast. Maddie glanced at the planchet still held in her hand, and stashed it in her pocket.

Maddie removed her gloves and tossed them in the special tub she and Jack kept for their hazmat suits. She quickly washed her hands before putting on a clean pair. She rubbed her tired eyes, moving around Jazz to get to the coffee pot. How did she get through so many sleepless nights in college? She already felt dead on her feet. She must be getting old.

She reached to flick on the coffee pot, before jerking away as  the coffee pot shocked her. Not hard, nothing more than simple static electricity. But it startled her.

“Mom? Are you okay?” Jazz asked.

“Fine, Jazzy,” Maddie stared at the machine in shock and reached out to touch it again. No shock occurred. “I think I might need to change the filtrator in the coffee machine battery. It just shocked me a bit.”

“Through rubber gloves?” Jazz raised an eyebrow. Maddie’s mind buffered, looking down at her hands.

“Maybe a more serious issue,” Maddie muttered. Jazz sighed.

“And I was really looking forward to coffee,” The teen slumped, still scrambling eggs. Loud steps were coming from the stairs, and Maddie turned to see Danny walking into the kitchen.

Well, walking probably wasn’t the best word. He was slumped over, backpack hanging from one shoulder. His eyes were rimmed in red and heavy bags laid under his eyes. He slumped into a dining chair, not even commenting on the hole in the table before laying his head in his hands.

“Danny, are you okay?” Jazz asked. Mother and Daughter wore matching looks of concern. The black haired teenager mumbled something incomprehensible. Maddie hesitantly walked over, putting her hand on his shoulder.

He was freezing. Cold enough that she could feel his temperature even through the thick gloves. Maddie swallowed thickly.

“Honey, did you not sleep well?” Maddie asked. Danny sat up, blearily looking up at his Mom.

“Weird dreams,” He mumbled, blinking up at his mom. Maddie rubbed his arm

“What kind of dreams?” She pressed. Danny grunted.

“Just...bad memories. Mistakes.”

“Was it...about the CATs?” Maddie startled, Jazz was suddenly by her side putting a plate of eggs in front of Danny. He looked down at his plate, but didn’t reach for them.

“No. The other thing. The first thing,” Danny said.

“What thing are you talking about?” Maddie asked. Dany didn’t react, but Jazz looked sheepish.

“Danny has had a lot of test anxiety over the last few years. I have been helping him work through it,” Jazz said quickly. She avoided Maddie’s eye and turned on heel to go back and grab another plate. “You don’t need to worry, Mom.”

Maddie looked at Danny, who was pushing his food around on his plate and slumping closer and closer to the table. And knew she was very worried.

~~~

Once the kids had left for school, Maddie unplugged the coffee maker and carried it down into the lab. Jazz had to nearly drag Danny out of his chair, her brother stumbling into her before catching his balance. Jazz had continuously uttered assurances that Danny was fine and did not need to go to the doctor. Jazz had chattered continuously, Maddie unable to get a word in as they slammed the front door behind her.

With a sigh, she set the coffee pot on the table. Jack was already in the lab, looking just as ragged as she. He was pouring over security footage from the lab, trying to find any evidence of Danny being Phantom.

“How’s it going?” Maddie asked. She massaged her hand.

“We really should have labelled these tapes,” Jack frowned. “We didn’t even order them. I keep switching between tapes from the last few months, to one before Danny was even born. This could take days. Weeks, even.”

Maddie nodded. She had been afraid of something like that. Instead of joining her husband by the small tv, she walked over to where she had kept the notes on the spirit board. She rubbed her hands together, before reaching to pick up the top page.

And dropped it immediately. Her hand trembled. Part of her didn’t want to know the truth. Because if all of this was true. If she and Jack had-

“Mads, come look,” Jack said, more chipper than before. Maddie turned away from the papers, holding her hand close to her chest. Jack had a video paused on the screen. He let it play.

It was Danny, when he was five or six. Jack and Maddie were working on a project in the corner, while Danny was running around. He had a toy rocket in hand, making zooming noises as he sent the little astronauts on a space exploration. He prattled on, making up ridiculous plots where aliens attacked, where wormholes opened to other galaxies, where he had to be a superhero to save the earth from a meteor. Maddie smiled at the memory. Until she watched Danny trip over a spare bit of wire and faceplant into the floor. He started wailing, past Maddie and Jack whirling around and scooping him into a big hug. Maddie felt tears in her eyes. She removed one of her gloves to wipe them away.

“What if we failed him, Jack?” Maddie’s voice trembled. Jack turned a baleful look up at his wife before stopping. An expression of shock on his face.

“Maddie. Your hand,” He jumped out of his seat to get closer. Maddie looked down at her hand.

A circular burn sat in the middle of her palm. Small Lichtenberg figures scattered from the center. But the most striking thing was that the figures were pulsing a bright green. Maddie stared at the mark in horror. Once more she felt a jolt in her hands, her fingers twitching, and the mark grew.

“Jack,” Maddie whispered in fright. Jack took her hand in his, examining it closely. “What is it?”

Jack let go of Maddie’s hand, before running over to the notes himself. He rummaged through them quickly. Maddie felt herself shaking, looking down at the unnatural mark on her hand. Jack let out a noise of triumph as he held up a piece of paper.

“Make sure to end your contact with the spirit when you are finished conversing. If not, you may attach the spirit to yourself. This can have many consequences, depending on the power of the spirit. It can result in something as mundane as constant bad luck or-” Jack faltered, gaping at the page.

“What? What is it Jack?”

“-or as severe as dying the same death,” Jack gulped. “Maddie. Maddie we didn’t do any of the things to close the ritual. You’re still connected.”

I just wanted to look inside. I tripped over a wire. I hit the button on the inside. The portal turned on. And I died.

“ He was electrocuted,” Maddie sobbed, hand spasming. “It’s true, isn’t it? We killed our baby?”

Jack had tears streaming down his face as he rushed forward and crushed Maddie into a hug. She sobbed into his chest. In grief. In guilt. In exhaustion. In fear. Her whole body shook with the force of her tears. Had Jack not been holding her, she would have collapsed onto the ground in a puddle of tears.

“We have to find a way to stop this. To stop the connection,” Jack said. He rushed over to the papers, fanning them out so he could see more than one of them at a time. Maddie joined him, her hand occasionally spasming.

The two of them poured over the notes, double checking them with the Nightingale notebook to see if they could find any correlation to the spirit board. But the notebook only condemned the use of such objects, and did nothing at all to say how to counter their effects. Burning it was briefly mentioned on an online source, but considering it was already a pile of ash that seemed unlikely. Maddie and Jack started to comb through more and more sources, each less reputable than the last. As time crept on, the spasms became more painful. The lighting marks spread up her forearm, up her shoulder, nearly touching her neck. Tears were constantly pouring from her eyes as she barely contained herself from screaming in agony.

The two started when they heard the door upstairs slam. Maddie looked up, sweat pouring down her face. Jack slapped his forehead.

“Of course. We should ask Danny. Maybe he knows something,” The man said, sprinting up the stairs. Maddie hobbled after him, leaning heavily into the wall as she made her way up the stairs. She slowly made her ascent, and opened the lab door.

Jazz was talking to Jack, but she was not alone. Sam and Tucker were standing in the kitchen, Danny’s unconscious body held between them. Maddie gasped at the sight.

“So he is like this because you and Mom did some hairbrained ritual that literally blew up in your faces?” Jazz was angry. Her face was nearly the color of her hair, red with the force of her rage.

“Jazz, we didn’t know,” Maddie whispered. Jazz finally noticed her mom entering the room and gasped in horror. Both Tucker and Sam wore similar expressions.

“Mom, what’s wrong?” Jazz rushed over to Maddie, offering her shoulder. Jack filled the teens in on what they had discovered, how Danny was now attached to Maddie, and how it was slowly killing her.

“Please, if you know any way to undo this,” Jack pleaded. This was their last chance.

“I do,” Sam said. Jack beamed, eyes brightened with hope. “But we will have to work fast. Things like this have a time limit.”

“How long?”

“We have to separate them before the Witching Hour of the next day, or else there is nothing that we can do,” Sam said confidently. Jack glanced at the clock. It was already six pm.

“That gives us nine hours, right? We should be able to do that,” Jazz said. But Sam frowned.

“I have to go to my house and get a lot of supplies, and it will take time to set it all up. And I can’t guarantee it will work. It’s not like I have ever actually had to do this,” Sam said.

“Please,” Maddie begged, as she looked at Danny’s slumped body. “Try.”

~~~

The setup had taken them the better part of six hours. Every ingredient had to be burned for a specific amount of time. Every line painted on the floor had to be at the perfect angle. The candles could only burn for so long, with certain herbs mixed in. The remains of the spirit board had to be collected into one space. It was time consuming. It was tedious. And there was no guarantee it would work.

Maddie and Danny were not able to help with the preparations. Danny because he had not woken up since Sam and Tucker had brought him home. He was resting on the couch, completely out of touch with the world. Maddie, however, was not in such a peaceful state.

It was taking all of her effort not to simply curl up and scream. It felt like both fire and ice had poured into her veins, both trying to kill her from the heat and the cold. Her skin looked ashen and pale, sweat and tears constantly pouring down her face. She shook and seized from the volts of electricity that started at her hand and burst through her whole body. She couldn’t stop the whimpers that escaped, causing the others in the room to look over at her with concern.

When the preparations were complete, Jack helped Maddie into the middle of the setup. The electric lights in the room were turned off, with only the candles glow illuminating the room. Maddie nearly crawled to the spot she was supposed to be. She pulled out the little planchet and placed it within arms reach.

Sam had done everything she could, but Maddie had made the connection. Maddie had to sever it.

Maddie took the sterile knife and cut the inside of her arm. She let the blood pour into a basin that held the remains of the spirit bored. Her quivering hands spilled some blood onto the floor and not just in the bowl. But not enough to ruin the painted words. Maddie used her fingers to mix the blood with the ash, creating a paint. With trembling hands, she reached one finger onto the floor and began to draw the Ogham script she remembered from the spirit board. Slowly, as she could afford no mistakes, she drew a new board on the floor. Each one had to be in the exact order as the board had been and she had never been so grateful to Jack for taking a picture of the thing before they used it. Inch by inch, she recreated the board on her kitchen floor.

Now, she had to wait. Wait until the blood had dried enough that she could roll the planchet across the words without smudging. Every second was an eternity of pain, every moment a new level of agony even higher than the last. It might have been five minutes. It might have been an hour. But eventually, she could tell that the bright red of her blood had faded to a sickly brown. She risked touching it, and found it completely dry. She grabbed the planchet, and place a single bloody finger on it.

“Phantom, I would like to speak to you today. Please, I beg you, talk to me,” Maddie’s voice cracked. She waited a breathless moment, before the cursor began to move.

Mom?

“Yes, it’s me,” Maddie bit her lip hard as her body was wracked with pain.

You’re hurt

“ I’m fine sweetie,” Maddie lied. She had to finish this. She didn’t know how much time she had. “Phantom, I have said all that I have to say. My questions are complete. I close this doorway. I close this connection. Your spirit is not bound here.”

Maddie thought she heard a gasp, but she didn’t know where. Suddenly, all the candles turned once more into the strange corona glow. The planchet moved once more.

Goodbye

Maddie watched in fascination as the planchet dissolved into dust. The candles snuffed themselves out and the room was filled with darkness. Maddie slumped in relief as the pain seemed to melt away.

“Mom?” Danny groaned, the light flickering on. Danny stood by the switch, rubbing his eyes as he took in the state of the kitchen.

Jack and Maddie rushed him, crushing him in a hug they hoped expressed everything they couldn’t bring themselves to say.

[whatifxwereyou]

The Oncoming Storm Part 23: Flesh and Bone

Liu Kang x Reader and Kung Lao x Reader (gonna do both, two paths!)

You find the springs- and it exceeds your expectations but perhaps not in the way you had hoped it would. Something wicked is unfolding.

A/N: I'm going out of town tomorrow but I will do my best to get back to replies as often as I can! Your feedback gives me life <3 I'll be back on Tuesday. You guys probably won't even notice I'm gone, since I've somehow managed to miraculously write enough to cover the space where I won't be around! I'm going to see my family for the first time since the pandemic ;___; !!

Part 22 Part 24 Chapter Index

You drew closer to the wave of clouds above you, and it wasn’t long until you were engulfed by them. It was like the most intense fog you’d ever been in. You had scoured the cliffside for caves along the way but found nothing of note. You stopped walking once you were completely surrounded by the clouds and had long since let go of Liu Kang’s hand.

There was that feeling again. As though you had been lost in this fog before and yet you had never been there. It made you dizzy and you lost sight of Liu in the fog. You could see that man from your vision, walking in front of you, then to the left of you, then to the right. Your head spun and when you closed your eyes, you felt lost. But you weren’t. You knew this place even if you’d never been there. The vision in your head knew it.

You turned and the clouds felt misty on your skin. It was as if you had lost your body and were watching yourself walk through the fog blindly in search of something you weren’t sure that you wanted to find. Then suddenly, very suddenly, as if you were being pulled out of a dream, Liu Kang stood in front of you. Your body was yours again. His right hand was bathed in fire and the shadows it cast on his face were haunting and beautiful.

“Wake up, Y/N.”

He urged his hand to your arm and forced you to look at him. You gasped, your lungs having once again forbidden you air. You closed your eyes tight to shake off the feeling and then searched around you. It was too foggy to tell how far you’d gone but you had the distinct feeling that it hadn’t been very far at all. Liu’s relief was palpable and with a wave of his hand the fire was gone, leaving you in the cold mist of the clouds.

His grip was tight on your arm, as if he were worried that you would walk off again. You caught your breath, chest aching with the lack of it, and knit your brow. “How… how did you know?”

“I just knew.” The concern on his face was valid but the admiration was unexpected. “You’re like flickering lamplight, Y/N. The shadows cast by my flame. I know when you’re not there.” Your tongue was suddenly far too big for your mouth and your heart hurt. You should have kissed him. That was the most romantic thing you had ever heard in your whole damn life. But your chest was aching and your hands were trembling with the fear of losing control of your body. “Do you think that you could lead us using your vision? If it’s taking control of you like that then it clearly wants us to go somewhere.”

“I’m… I can try but I’m afraid.” You were still struggling with air and words. “I don’t know if it’s a good thing it’s leading us. I walked off on Kung Lao and nearly drowned myself yesterday when my vision took over.”

“It’s okay, Y/N. I won’t let go of your hand.” He let his hand move from your arm and down to your fingertips. He leaned closer and whispered. “Trust yourself as much as you trust me.” He stepped back, still holding your hand. You had to try. He was right. If you trusted your gut and it went horribly wrong then Liu would make sure you didn’t jump off a cliff. He was staring back at you, completely relaxed. He trusted you. You could feel it. How could you have ever doubted that? You weren’t sure where to begin but you started with turning off your inner critic. You were unsteady on your feet, unsure of yourself.

“Are you okay?” You couldn’t help but ask. He took both of your hands and walked backwards in front of you which you felt like was a mistake.

“Keep going, Y/N. I trust you. Close your eyes and follow your vision. I will make sure that we’re safe.”

“I…”

“Trust yourself, Y/N.”

You didn’t, that was clear to you both. With a deep exhale, you closed your eyes and then walked. When you walked, Liu walked. You led him blindly along the path through the clouds. The more you walked without plummeting to your deaths, the more confident you felt. And you were in control, which was nice. You walked until he stopped suddenly in front of you, as if he’d run into something. You stumbled into him, letting go of one of his hands to catch the stone behind him, body pressed against his. Eyes fluttering open, Liu let go of your other hand and instead rested both against the sides of your neck. Despite their warmth, they gave you chills.

His thumb brushed over the bruised skin on your neck, other hand gently caressing its way up to your cheek, thumb just beneath your eye. His hands were callused and strong, still somehow soft, controlled just like the rest of him. He had this way of drinking you in, of making you feel like you were something precious and special. You got goosebumps. The pitter-patter of your heart was betraying you, pressed against him like this and it was warranted for more reasons than you could count. The most important of those reasons was Liu Kang.

“You did it,” he whispered but his eyes were on your lips.

“I found it.” You smiled in realization and got the chills. That was a wonderful feeling. It was the first time in ages where you’d trusted your gut and it hadn’t wound up in a complete mess. Without thinking you buried yourself against Liu’s chest, hands gripping at his shirt. You closed your eyes tight and took deep calming breaths.

Don’t get upset.

Don’t cry in front of Liu Kang even if they were happy tears. It had been so long since you’d felt that good.

“What? What is it?” He could sense that you were trying not to get upset and he tucked your hair behind your ear, fixing the flower that had come loose.

“Nothing. I’m just happy.”

“Okay…?”

You lifted yourself from his chest and straightened your posture, but you were hopelessly pressed against him. “So much of these last few weeks with healing and my arcana and the visions… it’s felt like such failure. I’m trying so damn hard and still it seems impossible. One thing after another keeps going wrong and I’m just so grateful to have something work out.”

“Y/N, just because it doesn’t work out how you expect it to, doesn’t mean it’s a failure. You’re learning. Please… be kind to yourself. The shadow hanging over you isn’t any fault of yours. From where I’m standing? You’re doing well.”

God, he was the cutest. So damn sweet. “Thank you, Liu. Thank you for grounding me too. I needed it.”

“Don’t credit me with that. You grounded yourself, Y/N. I just reminded you how to breathe.” He gently took one of your hands from where it was balled up in his shirt and held it in his.

“It’s funny. Sometimes I feel like my brain is such swirling chaos that I’m going to float away, like a leaf on the wind. You have this way of bringing me back and keeping me firmly rooted to the branch.”

“I’m happy to make sure that you don’t float too far for too long if you need me to.” Liu let go of your hand and turned his gaze to his left. His smile faded.

“What? What is it?” You touched his face this time, fingers gently brushing over his cheekbones that curved so perfectly when he smiled. You’d never done that before. He was so handsome that it felt forbidden to touch him.

“Now is not the time. Later. I promise. We have things to do.”

“Yeah. The cave.” You nodded to your right. You hadn’t seen the cavern yet but you knew it was there. He offered a nod to agree.

“Raiden theorizes that these places are protected and changed by the magic that the man from your vision used. He considered that the artifacts could be toxic. The dotaku you found was probably tainted with evil intent in some way.”

“Great, because I had that thing pressed all up against me for way too long.” You frowned. “The monks there said something about it being cursed, too.”

“You seem fine other than the bruises. And the anxiety but I don’t know if that’s related.”

“Tangentially so.” You smiled but then frowned. Kung Lao had been pale that morning. You hoped that he was taking care of himself. “Let’s get this over with.” You stepped away from him, realizing you had essentially pinned him to the wall. He reached into his pockets and pulled out two keychain sized flashlights. He offered one to you and you took it with a smile. “I’m glad one of us was prepared to go into a cave.”

“It was a last-minute purchase.” He admitted with a shrug. The cavern opening, now that you saw it, was not inviting. You never would have found it without your vision. It was less like a cave mouth and more like a fissure. You’d have to stand sideways and scoot inside which was incredibly unappealing. You had to do it though, you reminded yourself.

So, against every instinct in your body, you pressed yourself between the stone walls and scooted. It was uncomfortably tight and you’d had to adjust several times to make it through. If you’d told yourself months ago that you would be doing this then you would have never believed yourself. Liu was right behind you and you helped each other through difficult spaces. Finally, the fissure opened up and you gasped at what lay beyond the tight opening. The air was so humid it was difficult to breathe and there were pools of water glimmering with bioluminescent light. Usually, you would have thought it was beautiful but there was something inherently sinister about it.

The air was foreboding. Liu joined you at your side as you studied the cave that went back into the darkness far beyond your tiny flashlights.

“It’s like the exact opposite of the springs back in the temple.”

“Something dark has corrupted it.” He frowned then walked right into the water like it was nothing. At its deepest point it was up to his thighs.

“You just jump right into that probably cursed water, huh?”

“Yes, and you should join me. I have a feeling that it’s going to be quite a walk and the only way through is in the water.”

“You’re probably right. Is this the opposite of holy water, you think?” You joined him and he offered a shake of his head at your bad joke. You trudged together through the water, following the only path there was to take. You lit your way with the tiny flashlights but even combined it didn’t do much for you. The bioluminescent plant life growing in the pools helped you at least find your path and you were sure if you needed to then Liu would use his fire. It was eerie. In the distance, there was the sound of falling water and it grew ever louder as you approached.

You finally pinpointed what the bad feeling was. It was like you weren’t supposed to be there, and the cave wanted you out. You knew that this was where you were meant to be and whatever wanted you out was that artifact.

“Careful.” You gestured to another fissure in front of you but this one was half full of water. It went on longer than the first one had, and you’d briefly panicked halfway through. Liu had helped you and then you had helped him when he’d gotten stuck at the end. It didn’t get any better after that. The next fissure was lower, and the water was up to his shoulders which meant you had to swim and squeeze your way through.

“Just hold your breath.” He encouraged and you looked to him skeptically but did your best. The water got down your throat a few times as it splashed around your face, but you managed your way through it. Liu continued right behind you, and it was made much more difficult when the path shrunk at the end. He’d nearly gotten stuck. That would have been a disaster. That cavern was low, and the water was so high you had to swim. The sound of water falling was no longer distant but very close. You searched the small corridor with your flashlight, but it was flickering after being submerged in the water. “Where do we go?” He searched above the water but there was barely any space above you.

“You’re going to hate it.” You pointed with an unhappy groan at the cavern beneath the water, completely submerged. This was a nightmare.

“You’re right, I do.” He shook out his wet hair. You ducked beneath the water, allowed your eyes to adjust to the warmth of it and cringed. It was uncomfortable. The springs in your vision had been small and modest. It was like they’d spread like cancer throughout the cavern thanks to that man and whatever artifact he’d hidden there. Then you came back up and turned to him. “Wish me luck.”

“Good luck, Y/N.”

You ducked beneath the water again, held your breath, and then made your way through the tunnel as quickly and carefully as your body would allow. Just as you thought your lungs would give out, you found a space at the very top of the tunnel that was above the water. It was barely enough for you to tilt your head up and regain your breath but it was more than you needed.

Then you ducked under again and were grateful when the cave opened up and you could bring your head above water into a much, much larger space. The water was way deeper there too and you gasped greedily for breath. Then you turned and waited for Liu Kang to follow you. Seconds later, he popped up next to you, also gasping for breath.

The cavern was huge and you found the source of the rushing water. It poured from an opening above that led to the mountain outside. You caught a glimpse of a tree beyond, but just barely. Water poured from a river from the precipice and down onto two other ledges in between before ultimately falling into the pool that you and Liu had emerged in. There was dry land on either side of the deep pool and you were looking forward to it. Never again if you could avoid it.

Liu reached for your hair to push it back and looked disappointed to find that the flower had gone. You searched the water for it and sighed. You’d forgotten it was there. “Sorry.” You pouted and he smiled anyway. The air in the chamber was heavy and you were set on edge, like something terrible could happen at any moment. Liu was moving toward the shallower water and talking but you couldn’t hear him. There was a high-pitched squeal in your ears.

Liu called to you, but his voice was distant and fading. You couldn’t quite remember why he would be with you or where you were or what you were doing. You turned in search of him, but he was gone.

You were alone and made your way to the shallower water, crawling out just enough so it was up to your thighs. When you turned back, there was a man standing before you. It was him. The creature from your vision and you saw him plain as day. His skin was gray and mysterious patterns shifted beneath the surface, his white eyes surrounded by red flesh, as if he had never slept a day in his life. He wore a hat that fit to the form of his head and curved up into horns. When you blinked, he was standing uncomfortably close in front of you, and you stumbled back. He sneered and the flesh melted from his face, revealing the fanged skull beneath it.

“Who are…” You tried to ask but you choked on your words as his hand plunged into your chest, tearing at your flesh like it was nothing. Pain radiated through your shoulders, down your stomach, and you were blinded by it. You would have collapsed if he had not been holding you in his death grip. His cold fingers wrapped around your heart and you saw your blood ooze down his arm and drench your shirt.

He was killing you.

You were dying.

When you looked back up at him, he was gone but the pain remained. You collapsed into the water, the ground disappearing from beneath your feet as though you had never step foot upon it. You couldn’t breathe.

But you could hear again. The ringing had stopped, and you could hear combat above the water. Through it, you could see the light of Liu’s arcana as he fought off many creatures you couldn’t make out from there. He was trying to get to you but the shapes were overwhelming him. You watched, as if in slow motion, as one of those shapes burned up. Then he was thrown back into the water with a splash and the fire was doused with a hiss of steam.

You panic-swam to the surface. Liu was being held beneath the water by skeletal creatures in tattered robes and tarnished jewelry. They were pulling him further into the deep pool. You grasped at your chest suddenly and discovered there was no wound. It had been an illusion or a vision or something.

There was no time. You had to get to Liu.

You bashed the creature aside that had been pushing him under but there were others pulling him further and further. Taking a deep breath, you dove into the water and willed your ink into your jian. You hadn’t been certain it would work under the water but were pleased to find that it was solid. You slashed one of the creatures to pieces and swam out of the way of another. Then you knocked the one holding Liu away.

He was struggling to keep his breath, hand grasped over his mouth. You pushed his hand aside and pressed your lips to his, offering him the little breath you had left. Then you urged your arm under his and helped kick to the surface. You both gasped for breath, and he coughed up water. You urged him back behind you, defending you both with the jian so he had a chance to regain himself and get to dry land.

The moment he had his footing, he grasped at the natural energy around him and bathed his fists in fire. He twisted and threw the flames and several of the skeletal creatures stumbling toward you burned up. But they didn’t stay down for long. Either they rebuilt themselves or there were tons of them. You twisted with your jian, ducking, and slicing at them as they drew closer, finishing them off when Liu’s fire didn’t.

“This isn’t working!” He coughed as more of them crawled out of the water toward you.

“There’s too many.” You backed up to join him on the small shoreline. If these things kept crawling back to life, then you would be at this until you were exhausted and one of you slipped up. You had to do something drastic. You’d mimicked Kung Lao in Japan but you hadn’t been sure how you’d done it. Could you mimic other things? “You thought that my arcana could mimic things, right?”

“Yeah, you mimicked my hand when you first showed me. Haven’t had much time to train, have we?”

“Could you keep me safe while I try something?”

“Of course.” Liu stepped in front of you and, fists still engulfed in flame, and went after the creatures as they came close. Watching him fight was amazing. It was almost like a dance. Stepping back to offer him more space to fight, you worked with your ink magic. You’d been able to draw with it when you’d been fighting against the tar creature in Japan so why not try that?

Bracing yourself for the energy it would take, you focused on the creatures as they fell beneath Liu’s skilled hands. He stepped back from them and bounced in ready position, extinguishing his fire. You focused only on the space and your ink, your will to make it. Your mind cleared of all other thoughts. Liu stepped back in surprise as you drew solid walls around the creatures, and they filled with ink. Then you slammed your hands together and the walls crushed the creatures trapped within. You felt the crash of those walls rattle through your arms and into your shoulders.

“Damn.” Liu turned to you with admiration. You relaxed your posture but didn’t get to do so for long. Water exploded in a fountain and rained down over you. A huge creature made of bones and skulls rose from the water. It hissed and creaked awkwardly. Its many arms wielded old, rusted weaponry. You summoned your jian back into your hand and stepped up next to Liu who turned back into his stance, hands bathed in fire again.

You waited for the creature to strike. It raised its arms and swung down toward you. You leapt away from the blows. Liu ducked under another and set the arm ablaze and then kicked another back. You leapt over the one he’d kicked and sliced it at the arm and then cut another that was grasping for Liu. You ducked low, rolled back and then knocked the weapon out of another’s grasp. You were always aware of where Liu Kang was. It was unlike any other fight you’d ever been in. It was almost like you’d choreographed it before you’d started. You were so in tune with each other’s energy that you could sense what he was about to do before he did it. You stepped back to allow Liu to keep the creature at bay and with the jian as a pen, you created a heavy chain with ink that attached to the shore. It dripped and then crystallized into form, wrapping around the creature.

Liu rolled over the chain and then knocked the creature back as it pulled, trying to free itself with wild thrashing. Liu flipped backwards and threw fire at the creature that then swatted at him, howling in agony. You leapt atop the chain and ran closer to the creature. You flipped atop the mass that held its many arms. It swung at you wildly and you leapt to the other side of its many heads. With a flourish you drew another chain to wrap around the creature but before you could finish, you were grabbed and thrown back toward the shore.

Liu leapt and caught you, and then gracefully set you down. You bounced to your feet, and you finished the chain and then spun low to the ground, smacking your hand against the stone so that it locked next to the first one. The monster couldn’t move far now but you had to finish it off before you ran out of steam, or it found a way to escape.

Liu nodded toward the creature that thrashed at the chains. They groaned beneath the force. It wouldn’t be held much longer. You threw your jian and it faded into ink and then you mimicked the water, and a wave of ink coated the creature. Ink was flammable. It would smell horrible, but you hoped it would work. “Now, Liu!”

He stepped back, braced his footing and his hand was engulfed in flame, so much so that his flesh seemed to glow orange and crack with bright light. Ducking low, he swung upward and from the water behind the creature, a massive dragon made of fire and lava rose high above it. With a low crouch and a spin of his arms, he slammed his hand to the ground and the dragon opened its great maw and attacked the creature. The ink caught fire just as you had hoped and the creature howled, consumed by flame. Then it stopped thrashing and began to fall toward you with the last bit of its strength.

The shore wasn’t wide enough for you to stay on it, so you grabbed Liu’s arm and you ran from the creature that swept toward you, ablaze, and leapt into the water together. The creature fell after you, its bones scorching and disintegrating as it did. You dove deep beneath the water but as you made your way to the opposite shore, it grabbed your ankle and pulled. You choked and your breath escaped, and you got a mouthful of water and had to resist the urge to breathe and swallow. You fought against the creature’s fading grasp but your lungs were aching so badly that you could do little but kick and flail upward and hope it got you there.

But then Liu’s arm was around you and he pulled you free of its grasp and dragged you above the water. You choked and spat out water, but your lungs were in agony. He pushed your hair back and held you above the water. “Breathe! Breathe, Y/N!”

“Trying.” You croaked and water sputtered past your lips. It was burning at your throat and your lungs, but he had gotten to you before it had gotten worse. You dragged each other to the opposite shore and then Liu urged you to lay back so you could focus on breathing. Then he collapsed on his back next to you to do the same.

[redxblueihateloveyou]

You know it's always really funny to me when mhs say that had it not been for swimming Haru and Rin would've never become friends bc I'm like, that's how relationships work???? You initially connect bc of something you have in common and go from there???? In that case you can also apply it to mh bc if Haru and Makoto had not been neighbors since they were young they probably would've never become friends either, but nobody wants to mention that bc then their argument crumbles lol

Anyways, your blog is literally the best and your rh (and general) takes are always so nice to read

I'm... same, I just do not understand what’s new about this? Like my mom and dad met while they were both working at school, if I started talking with a guy cause he told me that he liked my chibi Akashi bag and anime, is this not allowed? This in no way means that that’s all we like about each other or smth, this means this one thing brought us together.

This is the reason why I dislike mh fans so much. Because the majority of them instead of posting some canon facts and truthful arguments, they either twist some words into something unrecognizable, either try to change a rh moment into mh. I just always thought ppl ship things for what they are, not what they are not...

And the main problem in this happening and the error in their equation is Haru. Cause they’re trying so hard to sew him into that but with everything he says and do he constantly falls off and they end up with mako-haha. It’s like they say that Makoto is the reason that Haru walks into his future, which is hilarious tbh, and the next movie airs and what do you know Haru is yelling at Rin’s face how “he only walks towards the future and wants it bc of him”, they say that s2 relay teams are what they truly want which everyone knows ain’t true and boom drama airs and Haru and Rin are talking how it’s not the same if they’re not together on the team. They air all the birthday stories and oh no, Rin is special again. I remember how they were running around after that frfr! episode, where Rin tries to make Haru laugh and Makoto says he actually already heard it before and turns out it was kid Haru’s evil laugh in his sleep at school. Like what is so special about that? And how is this mh related? Haru was cutely laughing watching Rin sleep and just reading his text.. that’s yeah, that’s the reason to fuss.

Their problem is always Haru, he never fits their mh plan like ever. But do they listen to him? No. Because we have a moment IN THE ANIME, where Haru says “RIN, I WANT TO BE LIKE YOU, TOO.” meaning he wants to be as brave/daring/passionate, etc. cause Rin represents freedom for him. Okay, I’d get why some needed me to post an arguments list for “Rin doesn’t like Haru only for his swimming”, which is still hilarious to me, but okay, he does have a kink in books about Haru moving in the water and goes about it for several pages, but with Haru this is actually not the case. 

I don’t know if anyone noticed it, but swimming is not what attracts Haru the most about Rin and never was. It’s his character and state of mind and the way he makes him feel aka free. It doesn’t matter what they do, like whether they eat their rolls or draw new years fortunes. Haru said his whole body is on fire just when he looks at Rin and he doesn’t even notice how he starts smiling when Rin talks to him. It’s just the way he makes him feel. And swimming has nothing to do with that. Sorry, guys lmao.

Did they seriously just erase this moment, when Rin writes how he wants swim as fast as Haru in his letter, but Haru looks at the sky and he has this kaleidoscope of Rin’s pic in his mind and what he says next is "Rin, I want to be like you, too.” 

And he means what he says. It’s not about the swimming truly, he admires the fact that Rin follows his dreams with such passionate determination. Mind the fact that moments of Rin that flash before his eyes in this moment a) when Rin openly gushes about Haru’s swimming in front of everyone; b) when he yells in front of the whole class that if he wants a relay with Haru, he will bloody get it; c) his swimming; d) when he tells Haru that he’s a sight he never saw before he’s gonna show him the sight he’s never seen before. It’s about how what Rin wants, Rin fights for until he gets it. Haru is in love with his passion, always was, always will be.

Haru doesn’t want to “swim like Rin” although they did compliment each other by saying “I find your strength amazing” “but I find your stamina amazing”, and Haru always drools about the power behind Rin’s strokes, but Haru swims in his own beautiful way. And while he adores the way Rin swims, that’s still not his favorite thing about Rin and never was. Every time he talks about Rin it’s always about his personality and surprisingly... it’s rarely about swimming. When he thinks about Rin it’s always stuff like... how he is so colorful and intense and full of life and passionate about his dreams and how he stands out among everyone else to him, not about his swimming skills. 

So this argument is dumb AF tbh. I’m like.. yeah, and Lan Zhan loves Wei Ying for his demonic cultivation skills. Not because of his strong character, daring heart and his incredible ability to tick him off and light his cold ass on fire.

P.S. Seriously tho this is the first shipping base I see who just always for some reason does this stupid thing with finding a crumb and actively trying to make it into a bread but then realise it’s realistically impossible so they just replace it with a plastic one and pretend it’s real. This in fact makes your ship ridiculous. You can’t try to push the line that Rin is abusive (thats still lol) and how Makoto is better for Haru, since Rin did everything to make Haru reach his dream and made him happy and he’s the only one who can help Haru, when he feels down like in s2 and then with Albert and etc. Makoto can’t. It’s the truth, just let it go. I know there are not much positives sides in mh relationships to be honest in my opinion, but there are still some (?). Why not base your arguments on truth? Like at least it’s gonna be mh, not some imaginary thing. Either love mh for mh or don’t. Like yeah, Haru doesn’t resiprocate, but maybe one-sided stuff is your kink, ok, explore this, fine, but don’t try to make Haru into somebody else. Then it’s not your ship anymore.

It’s just funny to me like that Rin here writes poems about Haru and openly flirts with him in restaurants and plans their future together and I don’t even need to exagerate anything, it’s just how it really is and meanwhile mh is like “remember how 7 years ago Utsumi said that Rin and Haru wouldn’t be friends if it wasn’t for swimming, so mh is the shit”.. like I’m sorry, but I think I’m allowed to laugh at this. Sometimes you just have to let it go, seriously. Or at least like idk think before you post (and I know that it has like 3 retweets and no one cares, but still 3 ppl agreed and it reached me somehow, so..). My policy is when I create posts about my ships is validation. Like my last Rinharu facts youtube post got 5K likes, I didn’t post my thoughts, just their moments and at the end I specifically said “I have links/translations to all of this, so name thing you want to read, I’ll link you” and I linked everyone whatever they wanted. 

This is how you tell ppl a story of why you love this ship and make them fall in love with it, too. Not by making up lies about what’s not there and twisting someone’s words (like this person wrote “thats what she really meant *adds complete nonsense*). And I know mh do not have any of this stuff that rh have, but if you really ship mh, find something real and go from there. Seriously, it’s better if you have smth small, but real, than a huge lie.

Also I still think ship is about two people, not just one. Why mh don’t want to listen to anything Haru says or wants like at all? That’s just sad. 

P.P.S. Thanks for liking my blog, this makes me so happy <3<3<3

[n0wornever]

Breathe - Flynn x Reader

idk if this is a good suggestion, but maybe something with flynn? like, r is with her when shes drinking all the sodas and worrying abt julie?? just like, admiring her empathy and passion and maybe trying to calm her down? idk, i just had this idea and thought you could do it justice

FINALLY, SOME GOOD FUCKIN’ FOOD. Thank you @the-hufflepuff-hunter​ for being the first one to suggest something with Flynn! 

Flynn paced back and forth on the carpet, hands pressed against her head as she moved. Y/N watched her friend talk in circles as she walked, chewing on her bottom lip for a moment. 

“Flynn, Jules is going to be okay,” Y/N said softly, clasping her hands on her lap.

The girl stopped in her tracks, turning on her heel so she fully faced her. Her frown deepened as she walked toward her, letting her hands fall down to her side. 

It had been a few hours since Julie had blown that final chance at reauditioning for the music program. Y/N watched as one of her best friends completely deteriated after hearing the news. Flynn was already halfway through a 12-pack of Dr. Pepper when she arrived. Although Y/N had been sitting in her room for several minutes, Flynn had yet to address her directly, focusing on marching back and forth in front of her and murmuring to herself. 

“You’re kidding right? This program is everything to Julie and she’s going to lose it.” Flynn spat, leaning over to her right to grab the can that sat on her bedside table.

She took a huge gulp, crushing the can with her hand as she finished. Y/N jolted a bit back as she threw it over into the waste basket, the metal crashing against the wall before falling into the bag. Y/N’s eyes fell on the girl’s shaking hands for a moment before she looked back up to her face. 

“Right, but she might just not be ready,” Y/N reminded her, “Julie hasn’t sung almost at all since her mom...” 

“I know! That’s why I’m freaking out,” The girl shook out her fingers as she jumped up and down in place. “This music was the last thing that she had to feel close to her mom, I don’t want her to lose it.”

Y/N watched as the adrenaline from the sugar mixed with emotion and tears started to fall from the girl’s eyes. She stood up immediately, walking toward her with open arms. Flynn wrapped hers around the girl’s waist, Y/N’s hand pressing against her head to bring it down to her chest. She felt her head shake against her palm as the crying continued. 

“She’s not going to lose it,” Y/N said softly, tapping the girl’s head with her hand, closing her eyes with the motion. “We aren’t going to let that happen.”

Flynn pulled away from her, stepping back a bit as they pulled apart. She wiped her cheek with the back of her hand as her eyes fixed back onto the girl in front of her. Y/N stepped forward again to take her free hand into hers, giving her a warm smile in return. 

“How are we going to do that?” Flynn sputtered in between sharp breaths. 

Y/N tugged onto her arm, walking her back toward the bed. The two girls sat next to each other on the edge of the mattress. Y/N brought her leg up in front of her, turning her body toward her friend.

“We’re going to be there for her, encourage but not force.” She said while nodding, waiting until Flynn returned this gesture before continuing. “Julie needs us more than ever to support her decisions.”

“But I need her in the music program,” Flynn whined, chest heaving in and out as she spoke.

“I know,” She validated the notion, squeezing onto the girl’s palm again. “But Julie needs you in her life, in and out of the music program. Your friendship is so much deeper than a few lessons and music courses. She’ll still be there”

Flynn shook her head rapidly, bringing her focus to the ceiling. Y/N watched as her cheeks glistened with fresh tears.

“No you don’t understand, I can’t do it without her there to cheer me on.” 

Y/N scrunched her eyebrows together, shaking the hand that held hers to recapture her attention. As Flynn’s dark eyes laid on hers, she spoke in a low voice. 

“You do not give yourself enough credit Flynn,” Y/N said, a smirk pulling to her right cheek. “You are absolutely incredible. You can do this on your own. I know it will be difficult, but with your indescribable enthusiasm it is not impossible.”

She watched as a smile finally fell across the girls face as she spoke. She rotated her hand, lacing their fingers together. She brought her palm up to her lips, kissing the surface softly before meeting her eyes again.

“You can do this, even if that means flying solo for a few hours a day. We will be a text away to support you every step of the way.” 

Flynn nodded at her, pressing her eyes closed to combat the rushing emotions falling from her eyes. As they fluttered open again, Y/N leaned in to press her forehead against hers. They both closed their eyes again at the light touch, Y/N waiting to hear slowed breathing before pulling away. 

“I’ll come with you to talk to her if you’d like,” Y/N asked, rubbing her thumb back and forth on Flynn’s. 

“No,” Flynn said as shook her head. “I have to do this on my own.”

Y/N nodded in agreement, a small “okay” escaping her lips as she held her gaze onto the girl in front of her. Flynn mimicked her earlier movements, flipping their hands and bringing them up to her lips to press a soft kiss to it. 

“I don’t deserve you,” Flynn said as their intertwined hands lingered against her cheek.

“Please, It’s definitely me who doesn’t deserve you,” Y/N responded, a wider smile spreading across her face as she heard Flynn’s giggle finally sound in front of her. 

.

.

.

.

Tag list: @marinettepotterandplagg​​, @lukeys-giggle​​, @themaddies-obx​​, @epikskool​​, @daisiesforlacey​​  @bestdressedandstressed​​  @txrii​​ @musicconversedance​​ @dasexydevitt13​​ @bathtimejish​​ @xplrreylo​​, @kiss-themoongoodbye​​, @bookfrog247​​ @dream-a-little-bigger-x​​ @calamitykaty​​ @writerinlearning​ @sovereignparker​ @cherrymaybank​ 

[tchallasbabymama]

God is a Woman (Finale)

Wow, this is it y’all. Thank you for staying with me on this journey. Playlist was the first full-length story I started and I can’t believe I was able to pump out 15 chapters. I really just got back to writing in December after years of doubting myself...so this really means a lot to me. Y’all really mean a lot to me. Enjoy 😘

CW: smut

Word Count: 8202 As soon as the sun peeked out over the horizon, Ashanti’s eyes blinked open. She woke up smiling, and it only intensified when she felt her husband’s arms tighten around her as she reached for her dream journal on the nightstand. She flipped through her entries before she landed on a blank page. Using the sliver of sunlight sneaking into the room to see, she put her pen to the paper and thought back on her dream, making sure to record every detail she could.

In her dream, she was at the lake. Their lake. 

It was a beautiful day outside, and she heard children’s laughter behind her. She turned around and saw a salt and pepper T’Challa swinging a young boy around with a man who looked just like T’Challa. Another laugh was heard and she turned to see a grown Siyanda and another man that looked like T’Challa surrounded by three rowdy children. T’Challa, his first mini-me, and the young boy all lit up at the sight of them and the kid ran to greet the new additions to their party.

The man with Siyanda hugged the boy tight before he ran off with the other kids. Ashanti couldn't take her eyes off her daughter. She looked to be about thirty, and she wore her hair cropped short. She got her strong stature and graceful movements from her father, and the heart shaped herb no doubt. One of the kids ran back over to ask her something Ashanti was too distracted to hear, but she clearly heard the kid say “Ok mama!” and a lump formed in her throat. She was pulled out of it by the feeling of T’Challa’s arms going around her waist.

“Are you ok, Kitten? You seem a little out of it today.”

Everything about him felt the same. The timbre of his voice against her ear still set her ablaze, and the smell of his cocoa butter covered skin still made her melt. She turned in his arms to get a better look at him and the gray hairs dispersed throughout his beard and short curls made her smile. His eyes were just as bright as ever, with a more pronounced crinkle in the corners. He stood strong and tall, but his softness for her shone through every time he looked at her.

“I’m ok,” she smiled and pulled him down into a kiss.

“Ewwww, they’re being gross again. Make it stop,” one of the men teased from afar, making them laugh and pull apart. T’Challa grabbed her hand and led her over to the group. Ashanti looked at the twins and marvelled at how they managed to both steal T’Challa’s face. They seemed to be in their early twenties so Ashanti did some quick math in her head and found she still had some time before she’d get to meet them in real life. Just as they sat down to enjoy their family picnic, the children joined them and a little girl crawled into Ashanti’s lap. She smiled up at her with her two front teeth missing and Ashanti kissed her forehead. Right when she laid her head on T’Challa’s shoulder, the sun woke her up.

She scribbled down her dream as quickly as she could before it left her memory, and just as she closed her journal she heard T’Challa’s raspy morning voice.

“Was it a good one?”

“One of the best,” she said through a smile and turned over to face him, planting a good morning kiss on his lips.

“Tell me about it.”

“Mmmm, this one I think I’ll keep to myself. You’ll find out eventually.”

“Oh, another premonition?”

“I hope so.”

In the two years that had passed since Ashanti came into her powers, she had also developed the ability to receive premonitions through her dreams like several of the women in her family. 

She tried to turn back around to get out of bed, but he wouldn’t let her go.

“Uh-uh, where do you think you’re going?”

“You know where, I need to get my run in,” she giggled as his arms tightened around her waist.

“I need help with something before you go,” he whispered into her ear and grinded his morning wood between her naked cheeks and slid into her pussy, pulling her leg back to open her up. “And you need to stretch.”

All Ashanti could do was moan as he filled her from behind, her hips grinding back into him.

“I love how you’re always ready for me, Kitten. Such a good slut for your Kumkani.”

“Y-Yes, thank you Kumkani.”

He closed her legs and flipped her on her stomach, straddling her as he grabbed her ass and plowed into her. Ashanti damn near ripped the sheets from the bed as she held on for dear life. Normally their morning sessions were languid and sensual, but T’Challa woke up this morning ready to break her back in. One of his hands ripped off her scarf and grabbed her twists, craning her head to the side so she could look at him. He planted a wet kiss on her lips as his body weight came down on her thrust after thrust and a tear rolled from her eye. 

“You feel so good wrapped around me,” T’Challa‘s hips wound inside her and she cried out, releasing her juices all over him as she came from his head dragging across her g-spot. “Mhm, just like that, Kitten. Soak my fucking dick.” 

He lifted her hips without slowing his strokes and pushed her upper body down to the bed. He squatted over her and the angle of his thrusts drove her wild. She couldn’t stop cumming and he bit his lip as he tried to hold onto his own release, but the way her walls were squeezing him left him no choice.

“I’m about to cum in my pussy, Kitten. I want you to fucking drain me. You better not push it out, either. You hear me?” His strokes got impossibly deeper and her pussy responded by clenching around him yet again.

“Fuck!” T’Challa couldn’t help himself any longer and he released himself deep inside her. Ashanti grinded her hips and clenched around him some more, making sure she got every last drop as he continued to spill into her. She could feel the small bursts of liquid as they splashed her cervix and painted her walls, and she moaned as she reached under and played with her clit. She came for him one more time and he sat back on his heels and watched some of his cum slowly leak out of her drop by drop.

“Mmm, how am I supposed to go run now?” she whined as she slid back down onto the bed and rolled over.

“I’ll have the bathtub ready for you,” he kissed her and his hand travelled down her body to her clit.

“Challaaa,” she whined some more and moved her hips as his fingers rubbed her in slow circles.

“You either go now or I fuck you into this bed some more, and I’m sure the general wouldn’t accept that as a valid excuse. I’d hate to have to watch her make you run laps.”

“Ugh, fine. Stop touching me,” she fussed as she got up and he chuckled at her frustration.

“You might want to wear your black leggings.”

“Why?”

“I was serious, you’re not pushing it out.”

“You want me to run around with your jizz seeping down my leg?”

He laughed at her choice of words as he sauntered into the bathroom to start his day, without answering her question. Ashanti rolled her eyes and threw on some sneakers, her hot ass black leggings, and a sports bra before heading out to the gardens, peeking in on Yaya still asleep in her bed before she left. When the sunlight hit her face she smiled and started limbering up her muscles before she took off around the palace grounds. About forty five minutes later she returned to the palace and walked into the living area to see T’Challa and Yaya in the kitchen making breakfast as usual.

“Good morning, mama!” she said as she stirred some batter.

“Good morning, baby girl. Are you ready for your big day?” She came over and kissed Siyanda on the cheek before turning to her husband and doing the same.

Siyanda flashed a snaggle-toothed smile and nodded her head vigorously. Today would be her first day of school, and the entire Udaku household was buzzing with excitement. Before she could start getting sentimental Ashanti left the kitchen to go wash off her run. She hopped in the shower first, then settled into the bath T’Challa had run her for her aching muscles. She didn’t stay long, just long enough to relax. When she joined the family downstairs again, she walked in to see a hologram of Kwame and his husband Omar projecting from T’Challa’s beads. Ramonda had taken over in the kitchen while Yaya sat in T’Challa’s lap as her two uncles wished her a happy first day of school.

“So you two almost forget my birthday, but call for her first day of school? Fairweather friends, I tell you.” Ashanti joked as she entered their line of sight and leaned down to place her head on T’Challa’s shoulder.

“You know I still love you, Yaya’s just my favorite,” Kwame quipped back and she feigned offense. “Anyways, loving the twist-out. And Miss Yaya, those braids!”

“Enkosi, baba did them,” she said proudly, looking back at T’Challa.

Ashanti’s mind flashed to the night before. The three of them sat in the living room watching The Princess and the Frog, Siyanda’s favorite movie. Ashanti was trying her hardest not to cry for the millionth time when Ray died, when she looked over at her family and her tears dried up at the sight. Siyanda was seated on a pillow on the floor, eyes glued to the screen while her baba braided her hair with the concentration of a brain surgeon. His eyebrows furrowed as he thought about how he wanted the last couple braids to wind about her head, and she could see the exact moment it came to him and she chuckled. He looked up at her and winked before going back to the very important task at hand. By the time he was finished putting the beads on the ends of her hair, the movie had ended and she was almost falling asleep. They put her to bed and watched her sleep for a little bit before leaving the room. 

Their convo didn’t last long, and pretty soon the king and princess were back on breakfast duty. He let her pour out the eggs into the skillet and he started his famous spiced plantain pancakes on the griddle. The turkey sausage was already done and the cheese grits had just come off the stove, and Ramonda had already found her way to the fruit Ashanti had chopped up the night before. Shuri rounded the corner with her usual morning grumpiness, but changed her tune when she saw Yaya and remembered what day it was.

“Good morning, family,” she yawned before shuffling over to her niece and covering her in kisses. “Someone has a big day today...I wonder who it is? Ashanti?”

“Nope not me.”

“Mama?”

Ramonda shrugged, “I don’t know who it could possibly be.”

“Ubhuti?”

“No special plans over here.”

“Hm, must be Daka then.”

“It’s me,” Siyanda giggled.

“You? What are you doing today?”

“I’m going to school!”

“Whaaaat? I had no idea!”

“No idea about what,” N’Jadaka asked as he entered the room. He had made sure he was in town for his Punkin’s big day. 

“Did you know Yaya is starting school?”

“Nah, she’s not old enough for that.”

“I am, too!”

“How old are you?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“Five!”

“Since when?” 

Ashanti and Yaya had switched places and she was helping T’Challa plate the food when she noticed him stop and sigh looking out at Siyanda arguing back and forth with her aunt and big cousin. 

“She’s growing up so fast. It feels like she’ll be queen by next week,” T’Challa said barely loud enough for Ashanti to hear. She thought to her dream and smiled as she wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed his jaw.

Just then, Chidi and Bisa entered the kitchen. They had gotten back from another trip abroad the night before just to make it to see Yaya start her first day of school.

“Sorry we’re late, jet lag is rough on us old folks,” Bisa said as she went around greeting everybody with a hug. 

“Old? Speak for yourself, woman. Don’t forget you have two years on me,” Chidi quipped as he made his rounds, too. 

Bisa cut her eyes at her husband and everyone sat down at the table to eat. 

“So, mama, baba, how was Indonesia?”

“It was lovely, you two should add it to your list,” Bisa responded before stuffing her mouth full of T’Challa’s delicious food.

“We just might do that.”

“Where are your glasses, intyatyambo?” Chidi asked Yaya while Ashanti and T’Challa both beamed at their little girl. She had finally outgrown them and could look at people without the blinding pain from the brightness of their auras. 

“The colors don't hurt my head anymore, so I don’t need them,” she said proudly.

“Wow, we were only gone a month,” Bisa was surprised at the quick change.

The family ate together and had their fill until about thirty minutes later T’Challa looked at the time on his beads and realized they should wrap things up.

“We need to get moving if you’re going to be on time for your first day,” T’Challa said to Yaya and she hopped up from the table and ran to get her things. The king and queen stood next, both taking a second to compose themselves.

“It gets easier,” Chidi offered as he grabbed his daughter’s hand. “I was a wreck on your first day.”

“Oh my Bast, I remember I had so much trouble getting him to let you go.”

Ashanti looked to T’Challa knowingly and he looked away. She could already tell he would be a problem. 

“On Shuri’s first day of school T’Chaka wanted to stay and monitor the teacher.”

Ashanti shook her head at her husband, already seeing the wheels turning in his head.

“It’s not the worst idea…” he said under his breath.

Just then Yaya reentered the room with a pep in her step. “Ready!”

Her family waved goodbye, not a dry eye in sight, as T’Challa and Ashanti walked with Siyanda out of the palace and through the streets of Birnin Zana, their Dora close behind. Even Okoye fought to remain poised as the little princess that she loved so much walked ahead of her parents, seemingly already knowing the way. When they got to the school, she immediately tried to run off and play with the other kids, but T’Challa held her shoulder as the teacher walked over to introduce himself.

“My king, my queen, princess. It is a pleasure to have you here with us. I am Abayomi, I’ll be Siyanda’s teacher this year,” he saluted them and held out his hand for them to shake. Ashanti took it, as did T’Challa after she nudged his side for staring at it for a beat too long. Abayomi recognized the look on T’Challa’s face and decided to offer him some comfort, “If you’d like you can stick around and make sure she’s settled in ok.”

“Yes, let’s-”

Ashanti cleared her throat, interrupting him and shaking her head. 

“Thank you Abayomi, but it’s probably better that we leave. The longer we stay the worse he’ll get.”

The teacher smiled and nodded in understanding before crouching down to Siyanda’s level.

“Hi Siyanda, I’ll be your teacher this year. Are you ready to have some fun and learn some cool stuff?”

She nodded vigorously and turned around to T’Challa, “Can I go now, baba?”

His heart broke and Ashanti saw it happen. 

Abayomi went and stood by the door to give the family some privacy as they said their goodbyes. Ashanti crouched down and hugged Yaya goodbye before T’Challa knelt down and did the same, refusing to let her go until Ashanti gave him a look. 

“It’s ok, baba, it’s just school.” She noticed the tears welling in his eyes and wiped one away that fell to his cheek.

“I know, sithandwa. You be good, ok?”

“I will, baba.”

He let her go and she ran towards the school doors and met her teacher. They both waved one more time before going inside and T’Challa’s dam broke. Ashanti helped her husband up and wiped his tears.

“How are you not crying right now?” He asked, confused by how she was able to keep it together. Ashanti smiled and thought back to her dream from the night before.

“Because last night I saw her as a queen. She was fully grown up, had kids of her own and everything...our baby isn’t a baby anymore, Challa. She’s growing up.”

“I hate it,” he grumbled as she grabbed his hand and led him back to the palace. 

--------

Ashanti‘s chest heaved as she gulped down her room temperature water.

“How was that?” 

“Pretty good, except for right here,” Shuri pulled up footage of Ashanti fighting in the simulation. “You let him get in too close. He could’ve done some real damage, so watch your back.”

Ashanti nodded and shook out her muscles.

“Again.”

“Ashanti, we’ve been at this all day. You should take a break. Bast, I need a break.”

The queen sighed and wiped her brow, “Come on, just one more?”

“So this is where you’ve been all day,” T’Challa said as he leaned up against the door leading to the private training room’s observation deck, surprising both of them. 

“Brother, please get your wife. She’s going to exhaust herself if she keeps this up.”

“Snitch!”

Shuri leaned over the railing and stuck her tongue out at Ashanti before turning back to her brother and thrusting her holopad into his hands. “I’m going to take a nap, please don’t need me for the next two hours.”

T’Challa shook his head as she left and he reviewed Ashanti’s footage.

“You’re doing well.”

“Not well enough,” she said under her breath and rolled her eyes.

T’Challa looked up from the tablet and his brows furrowed, sensing her attitude. He strolled out of the observation deck and down the ramp to the training room, examining her body language as he went. He knew where this was going, and he didn’t like it one bit but he had to ask.

“What is it, Kitten?” He reached for her hand and she barely held onto it.

“Nothing,” she mumbled while avoiding eye contact. He pulled her in closer and lightly grabbed her chin, making her look into his eyes.

“You’re a horrible liar,” he said and she pouted. He smirked at her poked out lip and leaned in to kiss it. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I just want to get better, that’s all.”

“Why are you pushing yourself so hard?” He braced himself for what he felt was coming. He really didn’t want to have that conversation. She looked away again before her eyes found their way back to his.

“I want to go on a mission.” 

There it was.

“A mission? Why?” he asked nervously, and she could hear the faint waiver in his voice.

“Because I have these powers I never do anything with, T’Challa. I know how to use them now, I’ve been doing combat training for over a year now...Yaya saw us fighting monsters,” she pointed to the both of them for extra emphasis. “So...when can I start?”

T’Challa really didn’t want her in the field fighting. He knew what his missions entailed sometimes and he wanted to keep her as far away from harm as possible. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh, and she wiggled herself out his arms. That wasn’t the reaction she wanted. She left him standing on the training room floor and stormed back to their quarters. The king’s shoulders slumped as he watched her march through the door. He looked up at the ceiling and spoke to Bast, “Give me strength.”

He decided it was probably best to give her space the rest of the day, and they didn’t run into each other again until dinnertime. Ashanti mostly ignored T’Challa and focused on Siyanda as she excitedly told them all about her day at school. She had been in school for a couple weeks now and was just as excited about it as she was on her first day. T’Challa tried his best to focus as she told them about her best friend Ade, but he was in his head the entire time thinking of the impending conversation he’d have to have with his wife.

Ramonda and Shuri could tell something was off, so after dinner Shuri offered to take her niece for the night so they could hash out whatever was going on between them. Ashanti was the first to leave the table, and T’Challa followed behind her shortly after, still wanting to give her space. Well, he wasn’t actually sure if he was doing it for her or for him, but it was needed nonetheless.

When he arrived at their quarters he found her stress painting on the balcony. She splattered the paint onto the canvas at record speed and he changed out of his royal threads and into a pair of sweatpants he wouldn't mind getting paint on before joining her outside. She saw him, but made no effort to acknowledge his presence.

“So you’re just going to ignore me, now?” he asked as he leaned against the railing. A couple stray red droplets found their way to his stomach and he almost smiled at the intense concentration on her face.

Ashanti dipped her paintbrush into white paint and lightly flicked it at her masterpiece, sprinkling white dots over the red splotches. She looked up at him for a second before her eyes travelled back to her masterpiece.

“Kitten…”

“What?” she said under her breath, her voice flat. 

“Talk to me.”

“For what? You said all there is to say.”

“I didn’t even say anything.”

“Not with your mouth. Body language, T’Challa.”

“Damn. Full name, eh?”

“T’Challa Jahi Udaku. Is that better?” She rolled her eyes and reached for the black paint.

“No, it’s not,” he sighed and rubbed the back of his neck in frustration. “Ashanti, look at me.”

Her eyes flickered up to him over the canvas.

“I just don’t think you’re ready yet-”

“Okoye does. She even complimented my combat skills yesterday. You saw how I did with Shuri’s simulation, so what’s the problem?”

“There is a lot more danger out there than my sister can cook up for your training. I just want you to give it more time.”

“I’ve been training for a year! How much time do you need?”

“This isn’t about me.”

“Isn’t it? Give me one good reason why you think I’m not ready to fight.”

“I just need you to be safe, that’s all.”

“Oh like I don’t worry about you every time you put on that suit? Because I do. I pray to Bast and the Ancestors every time that you’ll come back to me unharmed, but I know you have to go because it’s your job. It’s who you are. You have your powers for a reason, so what about mine?”

“Your powers are defensive-”

“That’s why I’ve been in combat training, T’Challa! I know that, but you mean to tell me you never have any use for invisibility? A fucking force field?”

T’Challa sighed. He knew she was right, but he just couldn’t let her go out into the world and face danger like that.

“Siyanda-”

“Also has powers and will have even more some day. Are you going to tell her to stop seeing auras?”

“No, of course not, that wouldn’t even be possible.”

“Then why won’t you let me use mine?,” she shuddered at her own words, “Ugh, the fact that you even have to ‘let me’ do something is disgusting.”

“You can use your powers whenever you wish, that’s not what I’m saying.”

“Yeah, I love when I get to really put them to use for hide and seek and snowball fights,” she said sarcastically. “Do you know what it feels like to not be able to be your full self? I was given these powers for a reason, and I’m doing something with them whether you like it or not.” She got up and wiped her hands on her smock before taking it off over her head and tossing it at T’Challa, covering his torso in wet paint splotches. He rolled his eyes at her maturity and went to wash the paint off. When he emerged from the bathroom he caught her gathering up her pillows in her arms.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m sleeping in one of the guest suites tonight.”

“Kitten, we-”

“Don’t go to bed angry, I know, but this is getting nowhere and I’m tired.”

“Then stay here. If anything, I’ll go.”

“Fine by me.” Ashanti threw her pillows back down and walked past him to the bathroom to get ready for bed. By the time she came out he had already gone and she plopped on the bed, suddenly regretting her decision. She knew she couldn’t back down now and crawled under the cold, empty covers to get some sleep. Except sleep never came to her. She tossed and turned until about two hours later, and when she had finally had enough she decided to get up and drink some chamomile and lavender tea. She shuffled down to the kitchen and was met with the sight of her husband making two cups of the exact tea she wanted. He looked up when he heard her approaching and slid the teacup over to her.

“I can’t sleep,” she said before blowing on the tea to cool it down before taking a sip. 

“Me neither.”

There was silence for a while as the two of them stood on opposite sides of the island sipping their tea. 

“How did you know?” she gestured towards the cup.

“You told me once that you sleep better when I’m there, and I know you like tea when you can’t sleep. I figured you probably couldn’t turn your brain off, so you’d be down soon.”

“Well, thank you.”

“You're welcome.”

Ashanti grew quiet again, but T’Challa eventually broke the silence with a sigh. 

“I know how it feels to want to get out into the field so bad it hurts. That’s how I felt during my training...I didn’t realize you felt the same way.”

“Yeah, well, I do and it hurts that you don’t see me as good enough to fight.”

“I never said you weren’t good enough-”

“You said I wasn’t ready.”

“I did, but I thought about it some more...I don’t want you in the field because if something happens to me I want Siyanda to still have you. If we’re both out there…”

“I know, I’ve thought about that too, but Bast gave me this for a reason. I don’t want to waste it, Challa.”

“I know…”

“Then put me in the field.”

He looked at her for a moment before coming to his decision.

“You’ll need a suit.”

Ashanti’s face lit up and she almost dropped her teacup.

“You mean it?”

“Yes…”

“You don’t sound too sure.”

“Because I don’t like it, but...anything for you,” he closed the distance between them and kissed her forehead then her nose then her lips. “Besides, you have to start some time since we know you’ll be fighting ‘monsters’ at least once. And you’re right, I shouldn’t have to ‘let you’ do anything.”

Ashanti beamed up at him and pulled him in for another kiss. “Thank you, baby.”

“You’re my wife, and my queen, and I never should have tried to stifle you. I am sorry I made you feel that way.”

“I know you only did it because you care about my safety, but trust me, I’ll be fine.” Her hand cupped his face and he leaned into it, pressing a kiss to her wrist. “Come on, let’s go to bed.” 

They finished their tea and made their way back to their quarters in comfortable silence. T’Challa removed his sweatpants before they crawled into bed and Ashanti curled up on his chest, swinging her leg over for him to grab. Just as they settled in good T’Challa looked down and kissed her forehead. 

“I really am sorry”, he whispered.  

“I know.” She craned her neck up and kissed his lips softly once, then twice, then by the third peck she had already started crawling up onto him, straddling his waist as she leaned over him, exploring his mouth. He pulled her silk nightie over her head so he could see her naked body in all its Bast-given glory.

“Ride me, Kitten,” he said softly. They didn’t argue often, but when they did Ashanti loved how soft he was with her after. When they had angry sex it was always fiery and rough, but Ashanti loved their “I’m sorry” sex, especially when T’Challa was the one apologizing. He was still his usual dominant self, but softer. 

She grabbed his already hard dick in her hand and stroked it slowly from base to tip, rubbing her thumb over the precum seeping out of him and bringing it to her lips, sucking it into her mouth and cleaning her thumb off. He loved to watch her taste him, but he needed more.

“Stop playing,” he grumbled, making her giggle and place him at her entrance, slowly sliding down and taking him into her.

He thought she looked like a goddess when she rode him. Of course, he was often dominant in the bedroom, but when she got on top he liked to sit back and enjoy the ride. She knew how to work his body like it was her job, and as soon as she settled on him she started to bounce and he let out a low moan. He was completely at her mercy as Ariana Grande’s words rang through his head.

You, you love it how I move you

You love it how I touch you

My one, when all is said and done

You'll believe God is a woman

And I, I feel it after midnight

A feelin' that you can't fight

My one, it lingers when we're done

You'll believe God is a woman

I don't wanna waste no time, yeah

You ain't got a one-track mind, yeah

Have it any way you like, yeah

And I can tell that you know I know how I want it

Ain't nobody else can relate

Boy, I like that you ain't afraid

Baby, lay me down and let's pray

I'm tellin' you the way I like it, how I want it

And I can be all the things you told me not to be

(Yeah)

When you try to come for me, I keep on flourishing

(Yeah)

And he see the universe when I'm the company

It's all in me

“Just like that.”

He held her hips as she squatted on his dick, dropping her entire body weight down on him and taking him in deep. She came down on him repeatedly before switching up her approach by getting down on her knees and rocking into him. He sat up and wrapped his arms around her waist as her hips wound on him. He opened his mouth for a sloppy tongue kiss and she obliged, wrapping her arms around his neck as their bodies slowly rocked together in an intimate embrace. She tightened her walls around him and he groaned into the kiss and thrust up into her. 

You, you love it how I move you

You love it how I touch you

My one, when all is said and done

You'll believe God is a woman

And I, I feel it after midnight

A feelin' that you can't fight

My one, it lingers when we're done

You'll believe God is a woman

I'll tell you all the things you should know

So, baby, take my hand, save your soul

We can make it last, take it slow, hmm

And I can tell that you know I know how I want it, yeah

But you're different from the rest

And boy, if you confess, you might get blessed

See if you deserve what comes next

I'm tellin' you the way I like it, how I want it

And I can be all the things you told me not to be

(Yeah)

When you try to come for me, I keep on flourishing

(Yeah)

And he see the universe when I'm the company

It's all in me

She let out a high pitched moan and he grabbed her tighter, whispering sweet nothings into her ear.

“You’re a goddess.”

“I love how you feel inside.”

“You’re so beautiful.”

“I’m so sorry, my love. Do you forgive me?”

T’Challa flipped them over so she laid on her back and he slowly grinded into her as she tried her best to get the words out. He kissed up and down her neck, leaving little love bites as he went, knowing it drove her wild. Ashanti started to involuntarily clench around him and he groaned again, stirring his dick inside her when without warning, she flipped them back over and sat up. 

You, you love it how I move you

You love it how I touch you

My one, when all is said and done

You'll believe God is a woman

And I, I feel it after midnight

A feelin' that you can't fight

My one, it lingers when we're done

You'll believe God is a woman, yeah, yeah

Yeah, yeah

(God is a woman, yeah)

My one

(One)

When all is said and done

You'll believe God is a woman

You'll believe God

(God is a woman)

Oh, yeah

(God is a woman, yeah)

(One)

It lingers when we're done

You'll believe God is a woman

“I wasn’t done,” she said, riding him with a vengeance until the tension in her lower half bubbled over and her body shook on top of him. She collapsed onto his chest and he chuckled, loving her brief flashes of dominance. It only ever reared its head when they made up after a fight, but he liked the power struggle. He spread his legs for leverage and thrust up into her, hands gripping her ass so tight he was sure to leave marks. 

“Come for me one more time, Kitten. Can you do that?”

“Mmmm, y-yes Kumkani.”

He drove into her repeatedly, and Ashanti’s eyes rolled back into her head.

“Oh my Bast, right there.”

“Right here?” 

If it wasn't for her basic understanding of human anatomy, she could have sworn his dick reached her lungs. He found that spot over and over and tremors travelled through her body once more right as he began to twitch inside her.

“T’Challa!” she cried out as she came, and he was just a few seconds behind. His body tensed up and released as he emptied himself into her. Their heavy breathing was the only sound that filled the room for a while before T’Challa spoke up, a smile plastered on his face.

“Nice flip.”

“Mm”

Ashanti grinned lazily and laid her head down on his chest, getting comfortable with him still nestled inside her. She loved sleeping with him filling her, it was the closest she could get to him without crawling into his skin and since  he loved the feeling of being inside her, he never complained. He smiled down at her and noticed she was already falling asleep. He left a kiss on her forehead and got comfortable under her before dozing off himself.

--------

“You can’t tell T’Challa, but I made you something.”

“I can’t lie to my husband, Shuri. Even if I wanted to, he’s a walking lie-detector.”

“Ugh fine, but only if he asks.”

“I can do that. So what’s the big secret?”

Shuri was vibrating with excitement. “I made you a suit.”

“You didn't.”

“I did!”

“Oh my Bast, show me!”

“Ok, close your eyes.”

“Shu-”

“Just do it, please. And no peeking!”

Ashanti sighed and closed her eyes, impatiently waiting for the reveal.

“Now open.”

Ashanti’s eyes blinked open and she saw a jewelry box in Shuri’s hand with what looked to be two bracelets and a pair of earrings of her own design. She was in awe as she reached in the box and ran her fingers over the small gold filigree earrings. 

“Try it on,” Shuri pushed and Ashanti was compelled to do just that.

She went for the earrings first, popping them in her ears before sliding on the bracelets.

“Ok, what now?”

Shuri scanned the small vibranium ink tattoo behind her ear with her beads. “In your head, just tell it to go on.”

Ashanti took a breath before willing the suit to extend from her new jewelry. Her skin tingled as the nanites travelled from the bracelets and stretched over her body. She looked down at her all-black suit in complete admiration before she realized she was missing something.

“Does it come with a helm-” 

As soon as she started the question, her earrings buzzed and she felt the tingle of the nanites covering her face.

“This is so fucking cool!” She yelled in excitement and ran to the closest reflective surface to check herself out. She turned around and saw her ass was looking right and smirked.

“Really? That’s what you check?” Shuri and Ashanti bursted into laughter just as they heard the doors swish open. Ashanti called the suit back in, but wasn’t quick enough. T’Challa caught a glimpse of it retreating right as he stepped into the lab.

“You made her a suit already? It took you forever to make mine.”

“That’s because I had to make new tech- wait, you’re not mad?”

“No, why would I be? If she’s going to be going on missions with me she needs a suit.”

“You two worked it out?!”

Ashanti laughed, “Yeah, we worked it out. We decided I’ll go with him on the next one.”

It seemed like Shuri was even more excited than Ashanti, but all three of them were ready to test out Ashanti’s new suit.

“Ok, so what can this bad boy do?” Ashanti asked her sister-in-law.

“It’s equipped with our cloaking technology, so when you turn invisible the suit can camouflage with you-”

Ashanti disappeared from view and laughed as she looked down and saw nothing below her.

“-and you have all the same weaponry as ubhuti, but I figured since you can explode on your own you didn't need the kinetic energy absorption.”

A still invisible Ashanti slowly formed a force field around her hand and pushed it out, growing it until about the size of a volleyball.

“And a couple more things: first, throw it,” Shuri said with a satisfied smirk on her face.

“Throw what?”

“The bubble.”

Ashanti had never successfully done that before, but she gave it a go. She thrust her hand towards the wall and the bubble she had formed in her hand crashed into it.

“How did I do that?”

“Long story or short story?

“Short please.”

“Magnets.”

“Works for me. What else can I do?”

“Press that button on your left wrist and then try again,” she said while moving backwards, which prompted T’Challa to do the same. Ashanti pressed the button and felt another tingling sensation. She formed the forcefield in her hand as usual, but this time it had little volts of electricity running towards it. She chucked it at the wall and laughed as she watched it crash while the electricity fizzled out.  

“I want to try something,” Ashanti smiled mischievously.

Shuri and T’Challa both saw her wheels turning and left the room as quickly as they could, turning back to watch through the glass doors. Ashanti lifted her hands and quickly formed a forcefield around herself, charging it with electricity and pushing all the way out. She smiled as she completely ruined the testing room, too caught up in the new suit to care. .

“You ruined my lab!” Shuri shouted through the door.

“It’s just the test room, relax,” Ashanti hollered back and retracted her suit.

T’Challa couldn’t help but smile at his wife. He was proud of her progress, no matter how much it still scared him to think of her going on missions. She was still the fiery artist he fell madly in love with, but she had become a warrior right before his eyes. He was in a daze the whole time watching her. She amazed him more and more every day, but today he saw her in a whole new light. Her strength, her powers, her hold over him...she really was a goddess. There was no other explanation. A dreamy smile appeared on his face as he thought of how blessed he was to be in her favor.

“What are you smiling at, goofy?” Ashanti poked him in his arm as they rode in the Talon back to the palace.

“You,” he looked down and kissed her lips softly. “You were amazing in there.”

“Aww, thank you baby,” she looked down as her face got hot and her ears tingled. All these years and he could still make her blush. Just as he leaned in to kiss her his beads rang and he looked down to see it was coming from the Avengers Compound.

“Looks like you might be getting out there sooner than we thought.” He answered the call and Nat’s hologram appeared hovering over his communication bead. “What is it this time? Aliens trying to blow up New York or something?”

“Hello to you, too. You’re close actually. Genetically manipulated creatures in New Jersey.”

“Monsters?” Ashanti popped into view.

“Oh, hello Queen Ashanti,” Natasha bowed her head in deference.

“Just Ashanti is fine. So monsters?”

“Yeah, some defamed ex geneticist did some experiments on a bunch of animals and now they’re basically demolishing Newark. I’m talking things that used to be bears and wolves, cougars even. We gotta do something, so T, you in or you out?”

“We’re in.” His voice was unwavering.

“We?”

“Yes, both of us.”

“Wow, ok. So yeah, we will see you two when you get there.”

The call ended and Ashanti beamed up at T’Challa, vibrating with excitement.

“I’m going on my first mission!” She jumped up and down and flew into his arms, kissing all over his face. “And it’s monsters!”

T’Challa laughed as Ashanti started doing a little celebratory twerk. He thought back to Siyanda’s drawing of them from when she first started having premonitions a couple years ago. It was still hanging on their fridge since Siyanda insisted it go right next to her family portrait. 

When they arrived at the palace, Ashanti had started to get nervous. It had just sunk in what she was about to go do. She wasn’t second guessing herself, but she felt the gravity of the situation. She already knew the outcome thanks to her daughter, but still…

“You ok, Kitten?” he asked her over the ding of the elevators as they rode up to their quarters.

“Hm? Yeah, I just have some first time jitters, that’s all.”

“That happened to me too. It still does.”

“Really?” She looked up at him in surprise. She never thought about him getting nervous before, it seemed so out of character for the Black Panther. 

“Yes, every time now. I’m always worried about making it back to you and Yaya, but I use that feeling to push through and make sure I get home. Think about her, and use it to fuel you.”

Ashanti nodded and her mind drifted to her daughter, her intyatyambo, her baby girl. She would do anything for Siyanda. Hell, she developed a whole superpower to protect her.

“I will.”

The two of them quickly packed their things. T’Challa called Ramonda and let her know of the plan, and she excitedly agreed to be Siyanda’s guardian while they were gone. Chidi and Bisa were on a flight to Italy at the moment, so Ashanti left them a voicemail telling them the good news. The king and queen then went to pick up their daughter from school early, like they always did when T’Challa had to leave in the middle of the day, and when they brought her back to the palace they dropped the news on her.

“Yaya, baby, we need to tell you something, ok?”

“Ok mama, what is it?”

“Well...I’m going with your baba this time. We’re gonna go fight monsters,” the smile on her face grew as Yaya’s eyes got bigger and bigger until she ran out of room.

The princess jumped up and down in excitement. “You’re a superhero just like baba!”

T’Challa chuckled at his daughter, “She certainly is.”

It was a clear, sunny November day in Wakanda. The kind of day where people couldn’t help but to be happy because it felt so good outside. Ashanti walked with her head held high as she and her family made their way to the Royal Talon. Shuri and T’Challa both kept sneaking looks at her in her suit, but for very different reasons: Shuri was proud of her handiwork, and T’Challa was thankful for Bast’s. 

“Ok baby girl,” Ashanti said as they both crouched down in front of Siyanda. She cupped her face in her hands and kissed her forehead, then all over her face. Siyanda giggled and T’Challa reached in with a sneak attack and started tickling her, making her laugh ring out even louder. The more she laughed he could see Ashanti’s nerves melting away and being replaced by a look of complete love and adoration. It was the same look he got when he thought of his girls, and the same look that twinkled in her eye when their eyes met. “You be good for your grandma. We’ll be back as soon as we can.”

“I know mama, I saw it before. Remember?”

“We remember,” T’Challa grabbed her and planted kisses all over her face like her mother just did before hugging her tight.

The two adults stood to their full heights, looking to each other and nodding.

“It’s time for us to go,” T’Challa said as he hugged and kissed Ramonda and Shuri goodbye before hugging Siyanda tight just one more time. Ashanti did the same and the two of them walked towards the Talon hand in hand.

“Thank you for trusting me enough to do this, Challa,” Ashanti said as they reached the stairs. Before taking the first step she turned around and faced him “I love you so much.”

He smiled down at her and kissed her forehead then her nose then her lips.

“I love you too, Kitten.”

“Now let’s go kick some monster ass!” She ran up the stairs and into the Talon, leaving him behind at the foot of the stairs shaking his head in disbelief at the turns his life has taken. Just ten years ago he couldn't see himself with a wife and child...he didn’t even think he’d be king yet, but here he was. When he walked into Taj’s that day he had no idea he would meet the love of his life, his child’s mother...hopefully children someday soon-ish. He loved her with his whole self, yet somehow always had room for growth. The excitement on her face kept him grounded as he tried to focus on the mission at hand and not getting lost in Ashanti’s assets. 

The door closed behind them and the king and queen waved goodbye to their family through the window and caught the kisses Siyanda blew at them from the ground. As the ship continued it’s ascent and their family became as small as ants, Ashanti turned to T’Challa.

“So what now?”

He flashed a gap-toothed smile and reached for her hand, pulling her in close to him and planting a kiss on her lips.

“Now we go over intel and formulate a plan. You ready?”

“Yes sir,” Ashanti stood up straight and nodded, saluting him. 

He smiled and returned the gesture before stilling himself. Ashanti watched as T’Challa melted away and his facial features took on a more stern look. She wasn’t looking at her husband anymore, she was looking at the Black Panther.

“Then lets go kick some monster ass,” he said with a predatory grin as the ship disappeared through the shield and into the outside world. Ashanti’s nerves melted away as the Talon flew through the air and she knew she was ready. She could do this. They could do this, together.

The End

Check out my masterlist to read my other stories, and let me know if you want to be tagged in anything. 

Again, thank you. 

Taglist:@ljstraightnochaser, @determinednot2fall, @dersha89,  @maddeningmayhem, @theblulife

[thefirstcourtesan]

Be My Eternity (M!Raleigh x MC)

Be My Eternity By Misha

Disclaimer- Not mine.

Author’s Notes- Happy Platinum weekend! So, I have always wanted to write a Raleigh proposal fic and never got around to it, but I got inspired by @platinumweekend and The Vinyl Awards Challenge. This is set a year after the events of the book. Special thanks to @raleighcarrera for calming me down when I had a little panic attack about this fic and hated every word.

Pairing- M!Raleigh x MC (Annie Marshall)

Rating- PG-13

Summary- Annie is apprehensive about returning to the Vinyl’s but Raleigh has a surprise up his sleeve that will take her breath away.

Words- 1460

“Nervous?” Raleigh asked as he helped Annie into the limo.

“A little,” she admitted, smoothing the skirt of her dress, “I mean after last year...” She trailed off, wincing at the memory of crashing Jaylen’s performance. Luckily her reputation had been repaired and her career was back on track, but she had a feeling a lot of eyes would be on her tonight.

“What about you?” She asked, changing the subject. “How are you feeling about tonight?” To her surprise, Raleigh had agreed to another Sunset Skatepark reunion, this one live at the Vinyls.

He shrugged, “good.”

Annie was about to push, concerned about the short answer, but Raleigh reached for then and pulled her into a deep kiss and all other thoughts flew from her head.

It was several minutes before they pulled away, both a little out of breath. Annie spared a thought to her hair, hoping it hadn’t fared too badly.

“Was that your way of telling me that you don’t want to talk about tonight?” Annie asked, curling into his side.

“No, it’s my way of saying you are gorgeous and I can’t keep my hands off you,” Raleigh told her, nuzzling her neck. Just then the limo came to a halt and he groaned.

“Hold that thought,” Annie told him, quickly checking her hair and makeup. Thankfully she didn’t look too bad and well if she looked like she had just been making out with Raleigh Carrera, was that really a bad thing?

As soon as the driver opened the door, Raleigh hopped out and held out a hand to her. “Are you ready?”

Annie took a deep breath. “As ready as I’ll ever be. After all tonight has to be better than last year, right?”

“I think we can make sure of that,” Raleigh promised cryptically, pulling her towards the red carpet before she could ask what he meant. She pushed the question as side as she put on her best press face and mentally prepared for the questions that were about to come.

She could do this. She could survive the night. At least she hoped so.

As if he could read her thoughts, Raleigh squeezed her hand and mouthed “you got this” and she felt her confidence return as she plastered a brilliant smile and answered a pointed question.

She had this. She could do it. And most importantly, Raleigh would be right there with her.

**

Despite her initial tension, the night seemed to fly by and then it was time for Sunset Skatepark to perform. Raleigh got up and motioned to her to join him backstage.

Annie was a little confused, but figured that he might need the support, perhaps suddenly questioning his decision to perform with his old band. To her surprise, Avery also got up with them.

“Didn’t want to watch the show?” Annie asked when Raleigh had left to get ready to go on stage.

“I can watch from here,” he pointed out, “I thought I would keep you company.”

There was something he wasn’t saying, but Annie figured that he might just be offering her moral support. Or maybe after last year no one trusted her back

stage alone. That was an unpleasant thought and she pushed it aside.

Avery was just being friendly, that was all.

She was distracted from further questions of her friend’s motives by the sight of Raleigh on stage with his old band mates. The trio began a mash-up of their hit songs, leading into a performance of “Be My Eternity”. As Raleigh and Cameron began the opening, Blair suddenly addressed the crowd. “We have a special guest joining us for this part, the one and only Annie Marshall!”

Annie froze, this was not the plan. She felt a hand on her back pushing her towards the stage. Avery.

“Go,” he whispered, giving her another push, and she suddenly realized he was in on what was going on, whatever that was. 

She took a deep breath and then walked on stage, a smile plastered on her face as she made her way to Raleigh’s side.

He didn’t answer, but he took her hands as he continued to sing, now singing to her instead of the crowd. “You’re a shooting star, every time I gaze at you, I make the same wish, and every time you make it true.”

Even though they were on a stage in front of thousands of people, with millions more watching at home, it felt like they were completely alone. There was a familiar warmth in Raleigh’s eyes as he sang to her that made it hard for her to be angry about the surprise. He obviously had his reasons and she trusted him.

“I’m here now on one knee,” he crooned, suddenly dropping to one knee in front of her, one hand still holding hers while the other reached into his pocket. Annie’s heart raced at the gesture. He wasn’t— “asking you to be my eternity.”

Blair and Camon continued to sing as Raleigh held out a giant diamond. “Annie Marshall, will you marry me?”

Annie couldn’t believe that this was real. She was being proposed to on stage at the Vinyls, with millions of people watching. It was so crazy and over the top and she wasn’t sure what Raleigh was even thinking or how he had pulled it off. But that didn’t matter now, what mattered was her answer.

“Yes!!!”

The crowd was cheering as Raleigh stood up and pulled her into a deep kiss, but she was barely aware. All that mattered was Raleigh.

**

“I can’t believe you did that!” Annie exclaimed when she and Raleigh finally had a chance to be alone. It had been a whirlwind night and it seemed like the entire music industry had wanted to personally congratulate them. “What if I had said no?”

“Well, according to Fiona, I’d be humiliated and you’d be vilified and it would be a public relations disaster,” Raleigh told her, not sounding overly concerned, “she had a lot to say about it, actually.”

Annie could believe that. “So Fiona was in on it?”

Raleigh shot her a look, “I know I do a lot of stupid things, Annie, but even I know better than to drop that kind of surprise on Fiona. Plus I don’t think I would have been able to pull it off without her, she got me the ok from the people in charge, I don’t think they dared say no to her.”

Valid. And it answered her question as to just how Raleigh had pulled the proposal off. 

“She told me that it would either be the best or worst publicity move of my career,” Raleigh continued.

Annie froze, “is that what it was? A publicity stunt?” After all she and Raleigh had started as a fake PR relationship, so maybe it wasn’t impossible. But they had come so far since then and the idea that it wasn’t real...

Raleigh looked stunned. “What? No!” He pulled her into his arm, pressing her against his chest. “Babe, that proposal was 100% genuine.”  He gazed down at her, meeting her eyes, so she could see the sincerity in his. “I was going to do something private and low key, but... That’s not us. Our engagement was always going to be news and this way, I controlled the story and how they got it.” He hesitated. “I guess I also wanted to give you a new memory to associate with the Vinyls, for other people to associate with you.”

Oh. Annie gazed up at him in shock as the meaning of his words hit her. “Because tonight is what people will remember,” she realized, “not my ruining Jaylen’s performance.” Raleigh had not only declared his love for her in front of the whole world, he had also found a way to give her the kind of Vinyl’s memory she had always dreamed of.

Thanks to him, she wasn’t the unhinged pop star who had ruined her rival’s big night, now she was one half of one of the hottest couples in music, the recipient of a truly epic proposal.

“I love you,” she told him, wrapping her arms around his neck, “and I am so glad I get to be your eternity.”

End

[vampiresuns]

Something Wicked This Way Comes | Prologue, Part 1

✴︎ SOMETHING WICKED THIS WAY COMES ✴︎

As Asra gets ready to leave again, Anatole handles two unexpected guests: one will alter his future plans, and the other will give him a headache. 2.7k words. For Anatole’s apprentice timeline, compliant with all the routes.

You can read the rest of Anatole’s apprentice timeline series here.

Asra was leaving. Again. 

Anatole wasn’t thrilled about it, but him and Asra had had this conversation several times and Anatole trusted his friend and teacher enough to not enquire any further — or to enquire behind his back. He said he had his reasons, and Anatole would respect that. Besides, it’s not as if he minded being alone. Maybe he had at the beginning of his recovery, when the City was still too unknown and disorienting, too much happening in it at all times, Anatole himself barely there.

He had read somewhere that all traumatic injuries which resulted in memory loss were different. Annoying as they were, he was better at handling the by-products of whatever the hell it was that had happened to him. Somewhat. He wanted to think he was, that even though the migraines still lingered, he could handle the shop, himself, his magic (magic that had begun advancing towards places and forms Asra could only guide him towards, not teach him). He just wanted to be good enough at it all, and he supposed he’d have no one he’d felt comfortable asking for help to if Asra wasn’t around.

He sighed. it didn’t matter, well, it did, but he’d be able to handle it. He was sure Antu would gladly help.

“I’ll miss you.”

“You better miss me, Asra Alnazar. Though, must you really leave tonight?

“In the dead of a moonless night. The right time for the beginning of a journey.”

Anatole frowned; Asra was full of shit. “Is that a ritual thing? Or is it a poetic licence thing?”

The magician didn’t reply, changing the topic instead like he always did when Anatole guessed too close to the truth about things Asra did not have the means to explain to his pupil. Instead he gave him his tarot deck.

Anatole can’t remember a time Asra’s separated from it. Normally, when Asra’s gone and Anatole had to a do a reading he used his own deck. It used to belong to his aunt, his connection to it jumping to his tongue before Asra could ask him if he knew, or remembered, whom it had previously belonged to. His cards were different from Asra’s — they were quiet, they gave him analytical and interpretational leeway. Asra’s were... too alive.

He took the Deck as Asra handed it to him, looking at the cards. “You trust me with your deck?”

“I do, Nana, I’d trust you with anything.”

Anatole decided to ignore the charged nature of his words. He had discovered within the last six months he was often able to call for the intention behind people’s words, how they were feeling in the moment, or if they were being dishonest. While most of the time it was useful, sometimes it was wildly disconcerting, others exhausting, or inconvenient. Like right now.

He was witness to the in-between-the-lines of communication whether he wanted or not, being too much information to handle at times. When it was too much, it could feel from invading someone's privacy to being overstimulated.

Instead of asking Asra if he had done that on purpose, he said: “You think I’m ready to use it?”

“You know I can’t answer that for you.” 

“I did it again, didn’t I?”

“It’s okay to need validation, Nana.”

Anatole knew that, in theory. Though he couldn’t deny Asra was right: he knew he still needed confirmation that he was doing things correctly, that he was doing a good job, that his efforts were meriting. Even when he had something completely figured out. Out of all the things Asra had thought Anatole would carry back from the dead, his tendency to overcompensate wasn’t one he’d accounted for.

Alright, that was a lie, he hadn’t accounted for Anatole’s entire personality to barrel through death to assert itself over the blank canvas of whom he had come back as. He should’ve foreseen Anatole to manage the impossible, twice. 

“Do you think you’re ready?” Now it wasn’t the time to allow his anxieties to govern over his capacities. Breathing steadily twice, he managed to give Asra the debonair smile with an inquiring, raised eyebrow the magician adored to see on his face. He hated not knowing, and the only way of knowing was to ask.

Asra found himself smiling too. “Why don’t we ask the cards?” 

✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎ 

As Asra said his last goodbyes, a knock on the door interrupting them both, Anatole thought he ought to ask where had he gotten his feathered hat. Another time.

Anatole wasn’t surprised Asra had already left when he went to the front of the shop to get the door, having slipped he High Priestess and her foreboding messages back into the deck. She’d have to wait for whomever had decided ‘after-hours’ wasn’t a real shop-keeping concept. Customers, Anatole swore. He really couldn’t blame Asra for leaving now. He himself hated being delayed or interrupted when he was focusing on something, and while Asra wasn’t quite the same (or didn’t have the same reasons) it was the same outcome. 

After-hours was the time he spent on himself and tonight he wanted to tackle his Zadithi. He had only just began picking it up again.

Again? That couldn’t be right.

A second, more impatient knock pulled him out of his thoughts. Anatole lunged forward to open the door, only to be met with Countess Satrinava, out of all people. He didn’t even know their shop had reached the Palace’s radar. For some reason he couldn’t pinpoint right then, he didn’t know if he liked it.

“Countess. Welcome to Moonstone & Jasmine how may I help—”

“Please,” she said, paying him little mind, “you must read the cards for me.”

Like he had said before, customers.

However, Anatole didn’t need to pick up on her words to notice the Countess was genuinely troubled by something, her comment on sleepless nights confirming his suspicion. So he decided to give her the benefit of doubt, instead of pinpointing the hour she decided to come at as a display of nobility’s entitlement.

The talk about his reputation was what shocked him the most, however. The temptation to dismiss her words as hyperbole was strong, but she sounded  too honest — a by-product of her state of necessity, Anatole thought, people tended to be worse at lying under pressure (How did he know that?).

When the Countess mentioned Anatole looked different in a dream she had, he speaks as if something had possessed him, having no idea he would speak until he did. “Do you possess any sort of clairvoyance, your Highness? I have a cousin who—”

He stopped as a throb made its way through the back of his head. As far as he knew, he didn’t have any family, he didn’t have anyone but Asra and a dead Aunt, but saying he had a cousin felt right in a way he couldn’t ignore. He had never been very good at lying to himself. Once he knew something was true, it cemented itself in his head, unshakable. He preferred it that way: falsehoods, even if lasting, crumbled. When you built with what was true, you built steady.

This felt like the truth, but was it? Was it a wish, or was it a lost piece of whomever he had been before? In the before he couldn’t remember?

Pushing his thoughts away, he said: “Excuse me, Countess. I forgot myself.”

“No matter. I come with a proposal.”

“I’m all ears.”

“Come to the Palace, and be my guest for a short while. You will be afforded every luxury, of course. I ask only that you bring your skill… and the Arcana.”

His first thought was ‘no’. His second, ‘absolutely not’. He had things! Plans! The only luxury he wanted right now was to be allowed to fill his after work hours as he saw fit. But this was a customer. They could use the money for supplies, and something told him — something he couldn’t pay any attention to right now, something inside of him he could only trust — the Countess was indeed in trouble. The kind of toruble where if he refused to help right now, he’d end up in the Palace anyway.

Sometimes it is better to cooperate with the universe; he had heard that somewhere, or perhaps from someone he couldn’t remember. Perhaps he read it. One way or another, now was not the time to mourn his plans.

“It’ll be an honour.”

“I will alert the guards to expect you tomorrow, but before that...”

Of course, she had come with a tarot inquiry, so Anatole redirected her to the backroom where readings and private consultations were held, finding himself face to face with Asra’s cards again.

He’d have to get used to their liveliness, sooner or latter. Unlike his own card, these spoke to you completely at random, compelling you to deliver their message, so you never knew if you were doing the reading or if the cards themselves were. Anatole didn’t love it, if he was honest. Nothing to do with the cards, though. It had everything to do with having asked Asra why do his cards work like they do, and Asra not giving him an answer which had fully made sense to him. 

He didn’t know what to make of the Countess as she talked to him about other times she had had her fortune read. His headache had moved from the back of his head to his temples. Familiar wasn’t the word for it, but she felt trustworthy, in an inconsequential sense. Like a coworker with good intentions but not enough turn out for his liking. He saw her out, opening the door for her, after her reading was done, still having not the faintest idea where on earth did he get such an impression from the Countess. He must’ve been reading too much, that was certainly it — too much politics before bed made Anatole a very imaginative man. 

As Countess Satrinava left, Anatole wondered if he should’ve told her anything about fees, at least as a joke. He wasn’t sure she’d appreciate the joke. 

He decided to brew something for his headache, worrying it might grow too big to sleep. Potions and brews had never been his strongest fort. He always needed to spend extra attention on them and their instructions, coming less organically than other forms of magic. Like languages. Languages were easy, even if messy sometimes. He still remembered one day, years ago, when he could speak nothing but a gibberish mess of Balkovian, Vesuvian and a very distant variation of Nopali. 

Still, it would keep his mind away from all the reputation talk the Countess had brought with her. He wanted to be convinced she must’ve been thinking about his aunt — Paris, that’s all Asra had told him — but Paris had been dead for even before his accident, so maybe... He took a breath, he was overthinking his way into a migraine again so he went back to his brew. 

He was missing enough of one ingredient, which meant he had to go to the Shop’s storage quarter, accessible only from outside and through the backdoor. As if anticipating his need, Antupillán, his familiar, fetched the keys for him and climbed onto his shoulder as Anatole made his way outside, looking for the sweet relief of willow tree bark. A victory which came at the price of getting his storage key stuck, fumbling for five minutes to unstuck it so he could go back inside. 

With all ingredients in front of him he could finally make himself a headache remedy. 

“Strange hours for a shop to keep,” said a muffled voice coming from somewhere, interrupting him.

If he got mugged, in his own house, he swore to everything he thought mattered in this world he’d spend the rest of his life finding whomever had come into his shop and making their lives miserable. He was sure no one had been around when he went retrieve the willow bark, Antu would’ve told him if there was someone. He was sure he had locked that door the moment he came in.

The thought that someone could’ve been staying in his own house, waiting for the right moment to strike made him sick, but mostly, angry. He knew he had a dagger somewhere in one of the drawers, if magic was not enough.

“Whomever it is, come out of where you are, and tell me what you want.”

“Behind you.” Anatole jumped back, giving himself more distance between this person, levelling a look to the red glasses the mask had for eye-sockets.

“So this is the witch’s lair… and who might you be?”

“Who’s asking?” He tried to sound as surefooted as possible, but the eye sockets of the mask were so vividly red, like a halo of auburn hair under the noon sun. His headache threatened to get stronger.

“I’m asking. I’d rather not do it again.”

The person lifted their hand, Anatole’s brain springing into action as it remembered the dagger was in the third drawer to the left. He lunged forward, he was quick with his feet he could just grab the dagger and protect himself with a shield if he— 

Instead of grabbing him, the stranger threw the mask to the floor. 

The flash of pain between his eyes, right where his nose begins was so intense it burned, making him wince. He patted the front table of the shop to hold onto something, fearing he will lose his balance and fall. He’s— he’s— he swears there’s a name on the tip of his tongue.

“As I suspected, shock, horror—”

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s etched on your face! The gruesome reaction of facing the murderer himself. Fear not, I do not care about you, I only want information, so if you stop fooling around and tell me where is the witch.”

“The whomst?”

The man blinked, confused for a flash before he scowled again.

“Where is the witch?”

Something inside Anatole clicked. He was too tired to deal with any of this. If the intruder wanted to attack him, he would’ve done so already.

“Listen,” he said, barking back at this person who had interrupted his evening. “I have a migraine right now, so I will need you to be a little more specific. Secondly, you come into my shop, demanding things without exaplanation, manifesting behind me, and I do have to tell you, even with a migraine, I’m probably better with sharp things than you are so stand back and give me a bloody fucking second, alright?”

It wasn’t a lie. Anatole had always been good with blades. It worried Asra, for a reason he had never explained, but Anatole didn’t think it was a problem.

“You know, if you’re really feeling ill, I’m a medically trained professional—”

“Did you seriously just offer me medical help after you tried to intimidate me for information.”

“I—I, look you don’t look well… wait, did it work? Are you telling me where he is?”

“What? No, no it didn’t. There’s a lot of people who go by ‘he’ this City.”

“Not even the murderer part worked?”

Anatole shot him a death glare that made his uninvited guest look away. After finally retrieving that damn dagger, which he did just in case, he set himself to prepare his migraine remedy.

“You’re the guy who’s wanted for murdering the former Count, right?” He asked as he worked.

“Yes?”

“Wasn’t the guy a bit of an incompetent despot? Created a sanitary emergency and ran the city’s coffers dry? I’m neither of those things, nor I plan to rat you out before you try that line of intimidation, because I’m not a snitch. So please, if you could be specific.”

The intruder did not reply, instead he looked at Anatole like he was the weirdest person he had ever met. He shook himself from it. “The witch, I’m looking for him and I know he lives here...”

“Since you have no clue who I am, I will reckon you’re talking about Asra. He left. Don’t know when he’s coming back, don’t know where he went.”

“But if you don’t know, and I don’t know… why don’t you ask your magic cards?”

God, this man didn’t give up. Normally, Anatole would appreciate that, give him at least some credit as an interesting enemy to run into in the night, but right now? Right now he wanted him to go away. “Because the shop is closed.”

“That’s what the backroom there is for, right? Look, I’m already inside.”

Despite himself, Anatole couldn’t find it in himself to say no, so with a hesitant nod, he left his conoction on the counter and showed his night-time guest to the backroom, but he insisted on Anatole going first. He did, as he didn’t have time for plesantries, though he had to admit, for someone who just broke into his home, he was being very polite.

As he dropped himself into the reading chair, Antu climbed onto Anatole’s lap, sitting there, a comforting presence amid his very annoying evening. He had been his constant companion for almost two years. Antu came in one day unannounced and hadn’t left Anatole’s side since.

“Is that a Raccoon?” The stranger asked, with eyes wide open as he tried to pet him. Antu bit the air in front of him before he could come too close. 

Not forgiven yet, Antu said at the stranger, though only Anatole could listen. 

Anatole smiled to himself, making a mental note to give him extra grapes later. “His name is Antupillán.”

To Anatole’s surprise, the stranger pronounced the name perfectly. “What does it mean?”

“Not many people pronounce that correctly, look at you. People accent it wrong,” he paused, in all honesty Anatole didn’t know what it meant. Yet, once more, he found himself speaking without knowing what he was about to say. “A ‘pillán’ is a spirit, an embodiment. Antu means sun in Mapudungún, so Antupillán is the spirit of the sun.”

Anatole felt his stomach drop as he awaited for the migraine that would inevitably blotch his vision with black spots. However, it never came, the misplaced information settling into him like a homecoming he was not yet able to process.

As Anatole shuffled the deck, the stranger looked friendly, almost awkward in an endearing way. 

“Go on. No need to be shy.”

“Says the man who refuses to give out his name. I need to know it for the ‘magic card reading’, you know?”

“Julian, you can call me Julian,” he said after some stammering and a scarlet blush on his cheeks. His eyes followed his movements as closely as they could, a nervous anticipation to them.

Anatole pulled Death. It was, in Asra’s deck, a particularly quiet card. The horse skull was quiet like someone who opened their mouth to speak, but couldn’t articulate any sound. He wondered if the card in his own Deck — Anatole’s Death major arcana was a moth person holding a mask and a scythe — could hold any answers, other than white noise. It was cheating, technically, but Julian called them ‘magic cards’, Anatole didn’t think he’d mind.

Before he could do anything, Julian laughed. “Death? That means nothing to me. Death cast her gaze upon this wretch and turned away! She has no interest in an abomination like me.”

"What? Julian this isn’t how—”

He stood up abruptly, his mouth seeming to run on automatic pilotwith fatalistic statements and Julian’s hunch that Asra would come back. Which he would, Anatole knew he would. Asra always came back.

Instead of Julian’s advice about seeking him out when Asra did come back, for ‘Anatole’s own good’, whatever that could mean from a fucking stranger, he thought he ought to have accepted the medical help. Perhaps that way, Julian would’ve left earlier and his headache would’ve been dealt with.

Later, as he laid in bed drifting to sleep, he thought Asra left that day not because it was best for a journey, but because he somehowknew all of this would happen and he didn’t want to deal with any of it. 

[razorblade180]

Venqua Week:Music

“When you-gah! No, that’s not right. When- ugh! Come on Ventus, you can do this!” The boy said, frustratingly tuning a guitar. He had been at this for months now. It all started when Namine moved into the Land of Departure with him, Terra, and Aqua. The boy had stumbled upon her drawings and by extension, the arts itself. He was completely hooked. Outside of fighting, Ventus didn’t have much time to explore possible talents. He was determined to find a hobby he was good at! It took all of ten minutes of Namine teaching him about color theory for him to realize that maybe literal art wasn’t his calling.

That’s when Namine recommended music. Seemed like a good idea. He didn’t want to brag, but Ventus always thought he was a bit musically inclined. Between dancing and the ice cream beat machine, he thought learning an actual instrument would come easy. Wrong! It was critically difficult! Three months into learning guitar and his confidence was was fading like the golden sunset that washed over him as he sat at the edge of the trio’s stargazing spot. Ventus played a few more strings and sighed. It didn’t sound off. Honestly it never was. The problem was his nerves. Ventus was trying to be a perfectionist with the only song he’s been able to learn so far. All for a special someone, Aqua.

He had always had certain feelings for his friend, but expressing them was beyond impossible. Any time he tried to show her a cooler, more mature side of himself it never worked out. He’d either screw up really hard, or Aqua would do her pretty little giggle while patting his head like he was some sort of puppy. He was not a puppy darn it! Ventus wanted to at least be a cooler, older anime. Something like a fox or a leopard. Just once, he wanted to leave Aqua speechless. He thought a singing to her would be his best bet. His face face grew redder at the thought of her listening to the song in awe, her deep blue eyes captivated by his feelings.

“Geez, I’m so hopeless.” He said, covering his face. Ventus turned his head towards his master’s keyblade that rested peacefully just several feet away. He wondered if Master Eraqus had any hidden talents? No way keyblade wielding was his only gift. If Aqua’s fighting style was any indication, the old man was probably a bunch of fun on the dance floor. The thought of him doing even half the moves Aqua did was enough to make Ventus laugh lightly. Once again he strummed his guitar. “Oh master, you think I stand a chance?”

“Stand a chance at what?” A voice asked from behind. Ven’s face went bright red, then pale in a less than a second when he realized it was Aqua. She smiled her beautiful smile like she always did and held a crown of flowers in her hand.

“A-Aqua!?” He stammered, “W-What brings you up here....!?” He wanted to hit himself right now. The answer to that was quite literally in front of him.

“Changing out Master Eraqus’s flowers” she answered anyways. Aqua walked over to the memorial and did just that. The old ones weren’t dead yet, but their color was obviously starting to fade. Still, they looked rather pretty. So pretty in fact, Aqua took it upon herself to sat right next to ventus and hang it around neck. “Wow, I’m a little surprised it passed your hair so easily. I thought it would sit on top.” She teased, ruffling the wild dew.

“Hey! It’s not that spiky! Also my head would have to massive for it to sit on top!” He pouted. Why is always a head rub!? This time he was minding his own business and still wound up like this. “Do you have a thing with my hair or something? You’re always doing stuff like this.”

“Of course. You always pout and turn red. It’s cute.” She answered, watching him get redder. Aqua couldn’t help herself. Teasing Ven like this was just irresistible. “So, what is it that you were trying to stand a chance in? Maybe I can help?”

“What? Oh! Umm it was nothing! Just talking aloud is all.” Lying was not a strength Ventus had.

“Really?” Aqua said sarcastically. She reached over to the guitar in his arms and ran her fingers across the strings, making a subtle but pleasant sound from it. “Nothing to do with the acoustic currently in your hands?” She looked at the blue eyes that were inches away and avoiding contact. Aqua tilted her head, a bit confused by Ven’s shyness. “Ven, I’m not a mind reader. Tell me what’s up?”

“If you read minds then you know mine only has you in it.” He thought to himself. “I’m just having a little trouble with a song I wanna sing. I learned all the notes and everything, but I get anxious anytime it comes to playing the whole thing.”

“How come?”

“I’m...self conscious is all.” It wasn’t a lie but it was certainly vague. “Any time I think about singing it the way I intend to, I get worried if it sounds bad or if I look like an idiot.” Ven could feel his heart beating so loudly that he was afraid Aqua might here it. Here being this close was nothing new, yet it too much to deal with.m right now moved back a little by pretending to readjust how he was sitting.

Aqua could the boys hand fidget a little. He wasn’t kidding at all about feeling anxious. She had never seen him so flustered when it came to things like this. Aqua had caught him a few times over the past few months really putting an effort into learning when nobody was around. She had even secretly caught him sneaking off early in the morning to find a place to practice. Learning this song must’ve been really important. For Aqua, that only left one response to this.

“Can I hear it?”

Ven was going to have a heart attack. “What!?”

“I wanna hear it.” She repeated, “We’re often our own worst critics. If you only play with no one around then you might always think it needs improvement, so let me hear it. I’ll give my honest opinion!” She said, excited to listen.

“That’s the one thing that scares me!!!” Ventus could not believe this was happening. How was he supposed to explain to her that she couldn’t listen because he was doing it all for her!? She even gave a valid reason for helping! “Oh, no I uh- you don’t have to do all that! Hehe, I just-” he stopped when he saw Aqua move to sit on her knees. His crush sat patiently with her hands resting her hands on her lap, a heart stealing smile still on her face. Here she was. Here they were. Two people bathed in the golden light of a sunset. Warm air and breath stealing views anywhere you looked. A gentle breeze made Aqua run a finger across her face. All attention was on him. Well, no time like the present right? Ven stood no chance of resisting with a face like that.

He sat facing her, legs crossed. He new his face was still red and the sound of his beating heart hadn’t gotten any calmer. However, a comfort came from that with a mix of excitement. An honest truth about his feelings. He really had fallen for her and wanting nothing more to express his feelings with all of his heart.

“Aqua...can I ask a favor?” He somehow managed to say. “Can you...close you eyes while I sing to you?”

The request was surprising but understandable. This was more about sound then sight anyways. “Okay.” She closed her eyes in earnest. “Ready...” For some reason Aqua felt herself get a little embarrassed as well. She hoped it didn’t show on her face.

Ventus took the deepest breath he could. Mustering his resolve and composing himself, Ventus began to strum.

🎶When you walk away, you don't hear me say

"Please, oh baby, don't go."

Simple and clean

Is the way that you're making me feel tonight

It's hard to let it go....🎶

Yeah, Aqua could totally feel herself starting to blush. Ven was only a few lyrics in, but she couldn’t think of a time she heard a more stunning voice.

🎶You're giving me, too many things, lately

You're all I need, oh~

You smiled at me and said...

"Don't get me wrong, I love you

But does that mean I have to meet your father?"

When we are older, you'll understand what I meant when I said

"No, I don't think life is quite that simple"

When you walk away, you don't hear me say

"Please, oh baby, don't go."

Simple and clean

Is the way that you're making me feel tonight

It's hard to let it go🎶

Ventus felt his nerves melt away as he kept playing. His mind was too focused on the notes to worry. Too focused on the girl in front of him. He was starting to find his stride.

The daily things, Like this and that and what is what

That keep us all... busy are confusing me~

That's when you came to me and said

"Wish I could prove I love you but does that mean I have to walk on water?"

When we are older, you'll understand it's enough when I say so

And maybe some things are that simple.

When-🎶

His serenade was unexpectedly cut short. Aqua had reached for his hand and stopped him from playing. Ven’s heart skipped a beat. For a moment, nothing but dread filled his thoughts. Did she hate it? Why else would he stop him midway. He would’ve asked, but Ventus couldn’t find the words. Not out of fear, but because of the look on Aqua’s face. Her calm demeanor was entirely gone. A the warmest smile Ven has ever laid eyes on was on her face with rose red cheeks. “A-Aqua...?” He finally spoke.

“S...sorry.” She spoke, “it’s just...well....” finding the words was a little difficult. Aqua couldn’t help but laugh at her own skittishness. “You confessing to me like this might be a little more than my heart can handle.” There, she said it. She watched a Ven’s eyes start getting bigger and bigger while his face tried rivaling hers in terms of red.

“Y...You knew I-”

“Of course.” Aqua giggled, “I watch you just as much as you watch me you know? Because...I like you...too. A lot.”

Ventus must’ve been dreaming. Chirithy has to have put him in a special dream. It’s the only way this made sense. “Why didn’t you say anything?” Like he was one to talk.

Aqua rubbed the back of her neck, “I’m not very good with this kind of stuff. Even though I had a feeling you liked me, I just couldn’t find the nerve. Then I started thinking about how I could be wrong and I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I kept finding reasons to keep quiet. But next thing I know is I started thinking more and more about these feelings sense we got back home and I-” Aqua jumped at the touch of Ven’s hand grab hers. She’s glad he did it, or else she might’ve rambled for hours.

A pressure weighed on their chest. One that was slowly pulling them together. The two of them couldn’t speak, only lean closer. They wanted the same thing. They knew it buy all the blushing moments and not so secret glances. Aqua moved the guitar away from Ven to get even closer. Ven invited the approach by tugging her hand closer to him. Her face had to be only inches away. Way to far for his liking. Aqua finally spoke.

“I think we should both close our eyes this time.” She said, flustered by her own suggestion. She was glad she managed to say it though. The moment his eyes closed, Aqua understood why he asked before. Filled with ease and courage, Aqua pressed her lips against the ones that had just serenaded her moments ago. Neither kept track how long they remained like this and neither cared. The only thing that mattered was it had finally happened; and it was only going to keep happening for many days to come.

[many thanks to @venquaweek because fun fact, I’ve had this music idea for three years and never wrote it 😂]

[captainmazzic]

Happy Halloween.

So it’s about time I gave a real fucking update instead of just dicking around being cagey about shit. I’ve mentioned a new project repeatedly. So let’s sit down and actually talk about it, friends. Pull up a chair, grab yourself some hot cocoa and strap in. Welcome to Sarc’s emotional roller coaster.

Bear with me. This is hard to talk about for so many reasons, but mostly because I’ve been belittled and ridiculed so many times in my life for liking “cringy” things or wanting to do things that other people think are stupid or childish. I hear the voice of my father telling me to “make something of my life” and “don’t squander your talents”, I hear the voice of my mother telling me I have “so much potential” and “one day I hope you get some ambition”, I hear the voice of my ex telling me to “stop wasting time with stupid shit” and “nobody is interested in failures”. I hear old teachers telling me honor roll students should go to college and study high-demand majors and anything else would be lazy and detrimental and won’t contribute anything worthwhile to society.

It’s the same shit that prevented me for a long time from posting art online. From posting writing online. From making ocs and showing them to other people. And now it’s preventing me from starting this project, and I’m so, so tired of it.

My biggest fear right now is that once I start talking about this project I’ll lose this tiny little community of people vaguely interested in my stuff that have somehow stuck around. External validation and sharing the things I love are my primary motivations with everything I do online, and while screaming into the void is all well and good, I need feedback and interaction and community. I need it so, so badly. I wouldn’t post jack shit – ever – if I didn’t need that, to be honest.

So anyway.

When the pandemic kicked into high gear earlier this year I got laid off for a few months. It gave me a lot of time to think about who I am and where I wanted to be in life, what mattered to me, what dreams I still had and which ones had fallen by the wayside.

Some of them are huge – once upon a time I was very religious. I went through seminary, got my minister’s certification, and was slated to be an associate pastor in a mega-church and rake in a six-figure income within 3 years. But I lost my faith and couldn’t stand the idea of being disingenuous.

And there was also a time when I received a full-ride scholarship to a very prestigious university that would have spanned a 12-year program and resulted in me having several doctorates and masters degrees by the end of it, in the fields of geology, palaeontology, and cladistics. But the scholarship program that was supposed to sponsor me went bankrupt the very semester I was supposed to capitalize on it. I was still accepted into the school, but the $1.2 million price tag would have all been out of my own pocket. So obviously that didn’t happen.

Those were the “acceptable” dreams. Those were the ones that parents and teachers and the general outside world approved of and thought were worthy goals. But neither of them panned out, and all I have left are the cringy ones. Like homesteading and sustainable living (can’t start without land, can’t have land without money). Like making comic books and doing art commissions for a living (it has to be steady to support myself, and I’m far too slow an artist for things to be steady). And like… playing video games.

Ha.

What’s funny is I can already envision the eyerolls and hear the snorts of laughter. What kind of dream is that? Only a handful of famous youtubers and twitch celebrities play video games for a living, and breaking into a field like that is pretty much impossible unless you already have friends in famous places.

Yeah, but… it would be so much fun. Right?

It WOULD be fun. I don’t have to become a super popular celebrity for it to be fun, right?

I don’t have to make it my day job and rake in piles of cash for it to be fun, right?

… I don’t have to actually be successful for it to be fun… right?

… Right?

:/

… I love video games.

I’ve loved them ever since I tried and failed so many times to win The Empire Strikes Back on Atari 2600. I’ve loved them ever since I played Mortal Kombat with my cousin in his basement with the sound down super low because it was ultra-violent and I would have been in so much trouble if mom caught me playing it. I’ve loved them ever since I tried and failed to finish Strife and Hexen and Heretic without the computer crashing and rebooting to DOS. I’ve loved them ever since I had to cheat-code my way through Jedi Knight: Dark Forces II just to get past the first boss fight but then no-clipped through the wall and died anyway. I still love that game.

But I stopped playing video games for a very long time. I was intimidated out of them by an ex and a somewhat toxic friend group who were Real Gamers™. I was brought to LAN parties but not allowed to play, because I slowed down the team and didn’t know the controls. I was banned from commenting on other people’s moves or cheering people on because it was distracting and I could cost them a win. I was even kicked out of their online D&D campaigns because I couldn’t be serious enough or roleplay well enough for their standards. Even if I was playing a game on my own, I couldn’t play with anyone else in the house because I’d be ridiculed for dying a lot, or for going the wrong way, or for picking the wrong game because only certain games are “good” and most of the ones I wanted to play were “stupid” or “trash” or a “waste of time”.

That kind of thing sits with me for a very, very long time. I didn’t really play games at all for over a decade. Even after I ended up on the opposite side of the country, with a new circle of friends, I couldn’t bring myself to play much of anything.

And then I had an extended visit with a friend of mine, and he introduced me to an early version of a ridiculous little game called Minecraft. My friend was an avid gamer but also a very kind one. In the ten years before this, I had told myself that I just preferred to watch other people play games instead of playing them myself (a lie. I mean, I absolutely adore watching other people play, but I also want to play too lol), my friend saw through that and very gently encouraged me to take a stab at playing Minecraft myself. He moved his laptop over to me, and I played a whole ten minutes with him watching before my nerves failed me and I promptly died. But miraculously it wasn’t a big deal to him. It was just a game. I might have cried in relief, I don’t remember.

After my visit I shelved playing video games for like another year, despite buying a whole mess of them because other friends online loved certain titles and wanted to talk about them with me. (I never played them, just bought them. I couldn’t even handle the thought of playing by myself in my own house). But for some reason I mentioned to my brother-in-law my old visit to my Minecraft-loving friend, and he just… up and bought the game for me. My brother-in-law is also an avid gamer with a lovely and patient disposition, and he suggested I just play in creative mode and build things to start. So I did that (behind a locked door in the RV that I lived in by myself, with the lights off and the sound down low) and Minecraft was my sole video game for another several years.

Then a couple years ago another friend of mine (hi Char) introduced me to Star Wars: The Old Republic, and I fell in love. It sparked a renewed interest in video games that I thought I would never really have the opportunity to satisfy, because games were still intimidating.

Let me clarify: I… SUCK. At video games. I’m terrible at them. Learning controls is a nightmare and a tunicate evolving its own brain would learn faster than me. If I’m aiming, I can’t hit the broad side of a barn. I have the direction sense of a whirligig beetle on the back of a drunk pigeon. I die fast and I die often. I can count the number of games I’ve actually finished on one hand. Even less if we don’t count the ones I had to use cheat codes to get through. But none of that diminishes my love of experiencing them, and over this whole pandemic and quarantine thing I’ve had a lot of time to unpack and mull over my thoughts and feelings and passions about them.

… I moved my RV to a new spot literally the day before the lockdown in my state first initiated. Before this I was in a spot that had no internet other than what reception I could get on my phone, with severely limited bandwidth and patchy, unreliable service. The new spot has a steady wi-fi connection, and while upload speed is utter shit, downloading and streaming video are just this side of manageable. So I spent the first three months of the quarantine lockdown doing pretty much nothing other than watching Jacksepticeye, CrankGameplays, and Markiplier play video games on YouTube. (I honestly had no idea before this that people even did let’s plays. My internet access/speed has been shit for so long I’m totally out of the loop).

It… for fear of sounding utterly stupid yet again, it inspired me.

Like. These people really love what they’re doing. They just. Play video games and have fun with it, and I mean yeah they make money hand-over-fist doing it but the main thing is they HAVE FUN doing it. They have fun! Playing video games! In front of people! It’s wild. And the thing that REALLY got me was… they have feedback on it too. They have a COMMUNITY. They have people they can talk to about it. They have people that they can play games WITH, even, who don’t yell at them or tell them they suck every five minutes or tell them they can’t play with them because they’re worthless as teammates. They can fuck up in a game and their friends are laughing along with them on Discord instead of screaming at them to get it right or get out. They can play games by themselves in their house and then upload videos on the internet and then they can talk to other people about it! They have fun! It’s awesome! They have fun!!

I just. It meant so much to me. It meant so much to me to see these videos of these three, and then another dozen or so that I’ve followed since, play all these games and have such a good time and also be such a positive and kind and encouraging source of energy.

I know all of this is not exactly about video games specifically. It’s about coming to terms with how I’ve been treated as a person and as a friend, about how other people respect someone’s interests and passions, about how it’s okay to share your interests with other people and it’s okay to like things that other people might not care about or think are important.

And I’m so, so tired of not doing the things I love because I’m afraid of what other people will think.

So I, uh. I invested all of the stimulus money I had into a new rig and equipment like a camera, lighting, acoustic panels, all that shit. I dug out all the games I bought but never played, I made accounts on all the big gaming services like Steam and Itch.io and GoG, and I made a YouTube channel. And I’m going to be making my own let’s plays. And it will suck, and it will be cringy and awkward and badly done, and it won’t make me money or be a valid career option or be anything but another very expensive hobby, but it will be mine, and it will be something I can share with people and (hopefully) have fun with, and it will (hopefully) be an avenue for some of this positive social interaction I’m craving.

I know YouTube can be toxic and super negative and full of trolls and cancel culture fanatics and people just waiting to find something to tear you down for, but like. Come on, y’all. I’m posting this on tumblr dot com. Toxic is everywhere anyway. I just want to try, you know?

I just want to love video games again.

Someone famous that I look up to so, so much told me – without knowing that I was even listening, without even knowing that I even exist – that if I enjoy doing something, to just go for it. To just jump in and do it, and if it works then it works, and if it doesn’t, what have I actually lost?

And I’m lucky enough to have four whole offline friends that I’ve mentioned this idea to, and each of them has said encouraging things like I’d have a good voice and face and style for making let’s plays. I honestly don’t know how true that part is, but on my good days I believe them. And they also said that I should go for it, to just try.

So that’s… that’s what I’m doing, I guess. I just want to try.

I know it’s not Star Wars fanart. I know it’s not Star Wars fanfiction. I know it’s not Star Wars meta or essays or ranting about the Sith and the Jedi and the Force. I know it’s not what y’all want from me. And that’s utterly terrifying. I’m bracing myself to be alone on the internet again, because I know that when I dive headfirst into this thing, it’ll eat away into the time that I normally might be spending doing writing or art, and it’s going to be something no one else wants to see and no one signed up for. And that’s partly why it’s taken me so very, very long to get started.

The other part is more physical. Of course as soon as I decide that I’m going to put my face on a camera is when my entire face goes to shit. I’m currently waiting on a potential diagnosis for mouth cancer, while already dealing with a severe jaw infection that’s causing my teeth and gums to rot inside my mouth. They already took part of my jaw, I’m missing teeth, others are turning black, if I open my mouth even just a little it is so obvious and I look like a very, very literal zombie. I have never been more grateful that masks are socially acceptable. I have a series of twelve appointments scheduled to treat this shit now that I have dental and health insurance (goodbye paycheque), and I might qualify for reconstruction surgery too. But that doesn’t really help how I look right now.

So I just can’t bring myself to start this project just yet. I’ve been sitting on it for months now with all the other pieces in place, but I just. Can’t. Start. It’s driving me crazy, because I want to start so badly. I feel like I’m wasting time. I feel like I’ve already wasted so much time, because I haven’t even done anything else in the meantime. I haven’t done hardly any art or fanfic, nothing. My anxiety is spiking so high right now because I have all these expectations of myself, but I can’t do anything about it. I’ve been told that I could just start without a camera or wear a mask on screen, and I’ve actually done some recording doing exactly that, but I just… can’t seem to make anything I want to finalize.

It’s also frustrating because I have no way of uploading anything at home. I’ll have to go over to my partner’s house which is nearly an hour’s drive away in order to get internet good enough to upload videos, which means that upload schedules are going to be shiiiiiit and that’s also frustrating.

But. But. BUT. I want to do this.

I want to do this so badly. I want to share let’s plays and experience a love of video games with other people. I want to actually play games with other people too. I also just acquired a piano keyboard, and I want to play again on the regular because I miss it so much. I used to play piano for hours every single day, it’s so relaxing and fun, maybe I can post that too. Maybe I can post let’s draws or something, where I ask y’all what to draw and then make a video of me drawing it while bullshitting to the camera I don’t know it sounds like fun. Maybe I can post videos of my cooking because the shit I make seems to be everyone’s favourite thing on instagram, and maybe I can take my camera with me when I go to the ocean or hike up into the middle of nowhere in the mountains and film how beautiful everything is up there. Or maybe I can do none of that and just focus on one thing, I honestly have no idea what I’m doing or how to do it, but I just… I want to try. I just want to try.

I don’t know where any of this is going anymore. I’m sorry I haven’t responded to messages, or opened up commissions. I’m sorry that this isn’t what y’all wanted. I’m still going to continue drawing and writing, I’m still going to be around, I’m not going anywhere, but I have no idea how prolific I’m going to be and I have no idea even when I’ll start uploading videos, to be honest. But I just. I’m just gonna try. It might still take me a while but I’m gonna try. Wish me luck. I love y’all.

[queer-crusader]

How do you think Silver & Flint's relationship would have evolved if things hadn't ended the way they did in S4? How do you think things would have progressed through time? I tend to think about the what ifs a lot. I'm just curious what your thoughts are on it.

OOFT. I mean i have many thoughts! It’s... very hard to say really. Because i think one thing Black Sails does incredibly well is the way it builds a story and a character. Many choices made in this show are so dependent on what the characters want and who they intrinsically are and how they influence each other (willingly/knowingly or not), and i feel like there are many very complex interwoven roads that led them to the conclusion they got to. Which is one of the many reasons the finale felt like such a tragedy; you know things are going to end badly because you kind of see it coming. And dear god it does hurt, even with Flint being reunited with Thomas.

So. I think there are two ways to answer this question, and you can sort of divide them into canon-ish versus fanon wish. These may not exactly be clearly indicated bc like i said i have Many Thoughts, and i apologise in advance 😅 Another thing i’ll be looking at here is something we had to lay out for our characters when i studied acting - the goals/objectives/motivations of the character, and their emotional/mental state. None of this is meant to be critical against any character. I simply adore analyising them and the paths of the story, and I love each and every character i talk about here deeply.

So, looking at that finale. There’s several things that i could take from what you say about things not ending the way they did - for now, i’m looking at the confrontation between Flint and Silver in the woods, where Silver forces Flint to quit his war and reunites him with Thomas.

Firstly, let’s analyse what we get from the canon, and what i believe motivates these characters to bring them to the point they end up at. There’s that famous line i think of Silver where he says he doesn’t know anymore where he ends and Flint begins - their thinking patterns have become so intertwined, they basically share a braincell. The tricky thing about this is, just because he and Flint think similarly, share tactics, and a knowledge of how to use people in their means, just because they understand each other well, doesn’t mean they share opinions and morals. Flint especially seems to forget this. He believes Silver is with him in his cause to end Imperial rule. But from Silver’s final actions, it’s clear Silver values his personal wants and needs above that of this abstract crowd of people. He’s not oppressed - or hasn’t felt the effects of Imperial/religious oppression (as far as we canonically know) like Flint and Madi have. And that means he doesn’t have the same drive. He’s driven by his personal connections to these people, i believe, purely from his own point of view. Like, i suspect he struggles to place himself in the shoes of Madi or Flint to feel their pain and motivation. He can see it, he just... doesn’t fully grasp it. (There’s also a question of whether he wishes to, but i feel nowhere NEAR qualified on answering that, nor do i think the canon gives us enough material to give a perfectly cut & dry answer.)

So you have this big miscommunication. Flint believes that, because he and Silver have basically become one shared braincell, they have the same goals, while Silver is still driven from a point of selfishness. (Side-note: there was a moment in the show he became selfless! He wouldn’t give up his crew when faced with torture from Vane’s quartermaster! But then he lost a leg over it and it seemed to dampen that selflessness. I think from there on, moments where he seems to be motivated by the good of the crew come instead from an internal need to belong and be loved more so than a genuine sense of brotherhood. That brotherhood may still have been there, but i think he might have suppressed that instinct a little and instead let the more selfish needs take more of a front seat. Understandable and not bad/evil, like that’s super valid of him. But my point is, he’s not exactly ready to fight for another man’s cause he doesn’t have as much of a personal emotional profit in, especially when he knows it’ll end in certain death for everyone he cares about and he knows cares about him.)

So that’s sort of where the characters are mentally in that climax. I may be skirting details and summarising a bit hastily, but it’s also been a GOOD while since i’ve watched season 4, so i apologise. Flint (and Madi as well - she plays an equally important role i think!) is fuelled by a mix of rage born from oppression/discrimination, and a protectiveness for others who may suffer the same fate. Silver meanwhile is fuelled by a need much closer to home - to be loved and to keep those he cares for and deems important to him alive and around. I’ve framed it as their emotional drive, but really it is also their goal, their objective in that finale. Flint and Madi are looking to burn down an oppressive system while Silver... isn’t. For him, their goals stand directly in the way of his. And by the end of the show, he’s gained enough power to prevail in his objective, cancelling out those of Flint and Madi.

So, could it have gone differently? I think, if we wanna play with canon and keep it as close to canon as possible... It seems almost impossible. These people’s goals just do not align. (There’s that sweet sweet tragedy again.) So what you need for it to go differently in short is for one of, if not several, of these people to change their goal. But we’re talking their MAIN objective, their main driving force at this point in the show - so like, the chances of that are slim. ESPECIALLY if we’re talking about the canon characters. After all, for that, the characters would need to look inside themselves and fucking face up to some of their issues and work on them. (This is something which these characters are not very prone to do, bc jesus it’s a mess in there and if that were me i’d preferably not turn introspective either and be forced to look at all that.)

So if we wanted Flint to change his goal, he’d need to come to terms with the Empire being untouchable - which is bullshit bc like my man has a POINT, just because they seem to be able to be brought down doesn’t mean they ain’t - and to accept the homophobia and oppression they treated him and Thomas with, which, yeah fuck that, absolutely not, his rage and his goals are valid as FUCK. If we wanted to change Madi’s - lmao like listen i understand wanting her and Silver happy together bc we ship EVERYTHING in this house, but she’s poc and proper royalty and wants to end slavery. We ain’t touching her goals. So that just leaves Silver. Silver would need to face a part of himself that keeps him from placing Flint’s goals, or Madi’s goals, over his own. (I suspect we circle back to that insecurity and need to be loved, which defo stems from whatever trauma he swears doesn’t affect who he is today.) So for that he’d uhh... need therapy. And a shit tonne of it. But then you still have the issue that Flint and Madi will likely fight their war (bc they DESERVE IT), which may lead to what Silver considers inevitable - that they will die early and horribly, and he ends up all alone.

So, looking at playing with the canon-ish to change things? It’s gonna end in tragedy. There’s doesn’t seem any other way about it, i fear; not with the way these characters were written, with who they are and what drives them and what they want. If it doesn’t end in tragedy in one way, then almost certainly in another.

So what are our other options? What if we look at the fanon wish - whether it’s silverflint, or silvermadi, or madisilverflint, or just to have these kids be fucking happy? Well, you know what? Maybe it DOESNT have to end up in tragedy. Maybe, if Silver does align himself with the goals of the people he loves - after learning to communicate and place himself in other people’s shoes and prioritise the needs of his loved ones and compromising and all that jazz (god this boy needs therapy that only the fanon can likely give him, rip) - he could join them in their war. And maybe, his genius and creativity and quick wit will in fact propel their cause forward and help so much, none of them dies an early gruesome death. It’s not impossible! It just requires that sweet sweet character growth he doesn’t get the opportunity for in canon.

Another option, and this one is perhaps a little more plausible if the show had no episode limit or a desire to end in tragedy and “align” itself with “history” (they’ve played fast and loose with real history i’ve learned, and like,, it’s a story about fictional characters so why did it have to align itself with history?? Okay fine, as a prequel to Treasure Island, it still needed to end in tragedy for Silver bc we know where he ends up. Were there no Treasure Island and no rules and we could do what we wanted with the show and write a new ending, then what?). This one is more popular, you see it in loads of fics and i like it a lot. Silver sends Flint to the plantation. Flint and Thomas break out and get their war anyway. They’re pissed at Silver for a bit for being a selfish dick shitting on Flint’s dreams, but like,, it’s not as if it stopped Flint. (We can even look at it like Silver knew they’d probably fight their war and have better odds with Thomas in the mix, giving them a better opportunity - but like, that’s just a fun headcanon to play with that i don’t think aligns with what he explicitly states to want in canon.) And then, after some years, everyone learns to communicate and talk things out and maybe, maybe, Silver grows a bit and things become healthier between him and Flint.

Listen, the moral of the story is this. I love all the ships in this show. I think they’re all neat, and i love the different iterations in which people bring them to life and try to align them with canon. Do i think that with the canon we’ve been given, silverflint could happen? Maybe. Would it be healthy?? I mean... Probably not 😅 but like, that doesn’t prevent me from shipping it. (That’s not the point of shipping - sometimes you just wanna see that sweet sweet chemistry pay off, even tho u know it ain’t healthy. The characters are fictional. It’s okay. No-one will get hurt - apart from maybe you if you end up romanticising it and taking that into real life but ooft that’s a whole other kettle of fish.) But god, that’s the fucking JOY of fanfics ya know?? It may also be why i enjoy writing my modern au so much xD therapy is an option, and canon means even less than usual. All im saying is, when it comes to the relation between silver and flint, the fan community are a fucking godsend. You want them to be friends?? We got fics for that! Want them to bone? SO many fics for that! Want a sort of father-son role?? Uhh nowhere near enough fics for that, but the fandom’s still active so you never know! Partners in crime?? Hell YEAH that has potential, even in canon i think if u just stretch out fan-written episodes far enough!! (God can you imagine the POTENTIAL?? Ignore the war, the grittiness, the drama. Get me some pirate hijinks where the stakes are low but they’re still sharing a braincell.)

(Hmm. Now i need to add another idea to my WIP list lmao xD)

Anywayyy, hope this satisfies ur curiosity anon!!

[marauders-venting]

Heather

pairing: wolfstar (remus x sirius), remadora (remus x tonks)

genre: fluff & angst

warnings: mentions of child ab*se

words: 1736

note: based on the song Heather by Conan Gray

a/n: originally, this was just a remadora fic but i don’t actually ship remadora (this song just reminded me of it and i was like well why not write something) and writing it made me so sad that i wrote a fluffy wolfstar ending for all the people who think wolfstar was endgame. so yeah, if you think wolfstar is endgame, I’m making a little fluffy epilogue bonus post tomorrow so dont be too sad

I still remember, third of December, me in your sweater, you said it looked better on me than it did you, only if you knew how much I liked you. 

Sirius was standing on the altar, the crowd chattering in front of him, the sunlight spilling in through the windows, the excitement in the air. And right beside was Remus, beaming. He glances back at Sirius, his eyes bright with joy. Sirius smiled warmly back but his smile had never felt more forced. Thankfully, though, Remus didn’t notice. Remus never seemed to notice how much Sirius liked him, although Sirius knew that there were times when he was terrible at hiding it.

Sirius still remembered the night he realised he was in love with Remus.

Earlier that day, a letter from his mum had come in the post. It was a needless reminder of how worthless and disgraceful he was as if he hadn’t heard it enough before he ran away.

It came as no surprise to Sirius that he had a nightmare about his family later that night. He woke up drenched in cold sweat, shaking, tears streaming down his face. Remus had taken him by the hand and led him to the common room, Sirius shivering the whole way. Even when they sat by the fire he couldn’t stop shaking. So Remus had given Sirius his sweater. And its effect on Sirius was immediate. It smelt like Remus. Like hot chocolate on a frosty winter night, like fresh air, the kind that you only get after it rains when beams of sunshine break through clouds.

“Thanks,” Sirius said, wiping his cheeks with the back of his hand.

“Of course,” Remus said. “Do you wanna talk about it?” Sirius shrugged. He didn’t really know what he wanted. No, that’s a lie. He wanted Remus. He still wants Remus.

Remus puts his arm around Sirius and Sirius doesn't hesitate to lean into Remus, letting the tears fall.

“Mum sent me a letter today,” he said, finally. “She said that I shouldn’t bother coming back and that they’ve already burned me off the family tapestry. As if I care about that. I chose to leave. They didn’t disown me, I ran away. There’s a difference. I never wanted to be on their stupid tapestry in the first place.” Remus nodded.

“Was that what the dream was about?” Remus asked. “Being burnt off the tapestry?” Sirius frowned.

“Not exactly. It was like she actually burnt me. Not the tapestry. I don’t know why it bothers me so much. It’s not like I want to go back. I really don’t. I hated it there. And I love being at the Potters’. It’s stupid that I feel like this.”

“It’s not stupid,” Remus said. “It’s not stupid at all, Sirius. It’s natural. They treated you horribly. Nobody should treat their kids like that. Hell, nobody should treat another human being like that. You have every right to hate them and not care about them but also be hurt by what they did to you.”

“It just doesn’t make sense though.”

“So what? Nothing makes sense. Literally all of my feelings contradict each other. It doesn’t make your feelings any less real or any less valid.” They sat in silence for a little while after that. Sirius let Remus’ words hang in the air, willing himself to believe they were true.

Remus yawned, his chest rising and falling.

“You don’t have to be here, you know,” Sirius said, pulling away from Remus and looking at his hands. “You can go back to bed. I’m sorry I woke you up. I’ll cast a silencing charm around my bed next time so I don’t bother you guys.”

“Sirius, you have nothing to be sorry about,” Remus said. “You do this for me all the time, every full moon. And don’t cast a silencing charm. You shouldn’t have to deal with this alone. This is what I’m here for. You’re my best friend, Sirius.” Sirius said nothing. He just kept staring at his hands.

“Sirius,” Remus said softly. “Look at me.” Sirius did. And when their eyes met, Sirius allowed himself to consider what he had always seen as an impossibility. That maybe Remus could love him. “I will always be here for you, okay? Whatever you need, whenever you need it. I don’t care if it’s in the dead of night or the middle of the day. I’ll be here. Okay?”

“Okay,” Sirius nodded, offering Remus a small smile. Remus smiled back and hugged him tightly. Suddenly, Sirius realised that this was all he’d ever wanted. Remus. Remus was all that he wanted and all that he needed. He’s in love with Remus Lupin. And at that moment Sirius really, genuinely believed that he had a chance. But if Remus had ever felt anything for Sirius, it was surely gone now.

But I watch your eyes as she walks by, what a sight for sore eyes, brighter than a blue sky. she’s got you mesmerised, while I die.

Now Sirius’ eyes skate over Remus in a stunning, black tux, wishing, wishing. Wishing for what? Remus is getting married today. And not to Sirius. And of course, Sirius is Remus’ best man because they’d been best friends forever. But that was all. Best friends. Nothing more. And Sirius wants so much more.

The music starts to play and the crowd rises to its feet as Tonks walks down the aisle. She’s beautiful, radiant, her white dress glimmering in the daylight, her pink hair standing out, bubbly and bright as ever but nothing is brighter than her smile.

Sirius glances over at Remus. He looks so happy. Happier than Sirius had seen him in years. His smile grew twice as wide when Tonks walked into the room. A smile that reaches his eyes. The kind of smile that he used to give Sirius when they were still at Hogwarts before everything went to hell. But this smile isn’t for Sirius. It’s for Tonks. And Sirius feels himself die inside as he hands Remus the ring to place on Tonks' finger.

Why would you ever kiss me? I’m not even half as pretty, you gave her your sweater, it’s just polyester, but you like her better. Wish I were Heather. Watch as she stands with her holding your hand, put an arm ‘round her shoulder, now I’m getting colder.

It’s been several weeks since the wedding. Remus and Tonks are back from their honeymoon and Remus’ gorgeous tan is not making anything easier for Sirius. Sirius swirls around the wine in his glass and tries not to look at Remus too much.

Remus and Tonks had invited a few friends over tonight, including Sirius. He hadn’t wanted to come but Remus had asked and Sirius just couldn’t refuse.

“Come on, Pads, please,” Remus had said. “It’ll be boring without you.”

“Who else is going?” Sirius asked.

“Some of Dora’s auror friends that I don’t know. Please come. You know I’m hopelessly awkward around people I don’t know. I need my emotional support dog. Please?” Remus said. Sirius rolled his eyes and turned into a dog. Remus laughed and crouched down, scratching behind Sirius’ ears as Sirius barked happily at him. “So will you come?” Sirius transformed back so he was sitting on the floor in front of Remus. He looked Remus in the eyes, those fiery-bright amber eyes flecked with brown that he knew so well, and Sirius knew that he couldn’t refuse.

“Fine,” he said.

They’re all around the table in Remus and Tonks’ house now, laughing, drinking. All except Sirius, who was sneaking envious glances over at Remus and Tonks, unable to pay attention to the conversation because, well… Remus.

Remus has an arm slung around Tonks. She’s wearing Remus’ sweater. Sirius watches them and wonders how he ever thought that he could hope for anything to happen with Remus. Tonks is far prettier than he is. At least, Remus certainly thinks so. And it was her that Remus gave his sweater to now. It's just a sweater, he reminds himself, trying to look away from the soft lines of Remus’ face, the curves of his lips, just a piece of clothing. But even without the sweater, it doesn’t change the fact that Remus is in love with Tonks. He likes her more than he likes Sirius.

Sirius sees the way that Remus looks at Tonks. He sees how happy Remus looks. And Sirius wants Remus to be happy. He really, really does. Remus deserves it. He deserves the whole fucking world. But despite this, Sirius still finds himself wishing that he was sitting there, the weight of Remus’ arm on his shoulders rather than Tonks’. It would be his lips that Remus turned to kiss, his waist that Remus tugged closer, his fingers that Remus held in his hand. He wishes. Sirius shivers slightly when Remus calls his name, snapping him back into reality. He turns and smiles at Remus, talking to Remus as though he hadn’t just been imagining the feeling of his lips on Sirius’ skin.

But how could I hate her? She’s such an angel, but then again, kinda wish she were dead.

Sirius might have found it easier to cope with his feelings for Remus if there had been someone to blame, preferably Tonks. But how could he hate Tonks? Even Sirius had to admit that she was incredible. She was pretty, smart, loyal, fierce and a badass. And she was kind too. She invited Sirius over to her and Remus’ house loads of times because she knew (Remus must have told her) that Sirius hated being alone. She was fun, she made good jokes. She seemed like a good friend. A good wife. But there was a part of Sirius, a part that he hated but couldn’t get rid of, that fantasized about her not existing. About Tonks being completely out of the picture. He couldn't help but wonder if things would have turned out differently for him and Remus if Tonks hadn’t been here? Sirius was glad he didn’t know the answer to that question. It might drive him insane not knowing what could’ve been between him and Remus had he only had the courage to ask sooner, but it would be worse, far worse if he knew that something could’ve happened if Tonks wasn’t an option.

[pleasantwizardphilosopher]

Blooming

This is chapter 4 of my current fic, I am posting them here as well as in AO3 just because, I really hope you like it, let me know if there are mistakes and your thoughts overall.

Supergirl arrived at Zor-El headquarters like a speeding bullet, almost breaking the sound barrier, out of sheer excitement. Things with the CEO went beyond her wildest dreams, not only was the joint project approved, almost, since Lena still has to sit down with the same old misogynists and make them approve the budget, however, the Maiden of Might has no doubt that the green-eyed genius will make them bend under her gaze. She herself, felt her knees growing weak every passing minute in the woman’s presence, she is now certain that the CEO can bend steel *wink *wink. Furthermore, the Kryptonian has gotten the opportunity of working side-by-side with Lena (isn’t that a beautiful name?), the same one she has been in awe with for several years; watching the CEO work up close was something the Kryptonian never even dared dream of, as it was something she always thought to be quite impossible, because although their companies aim for similar purposes, their markets and social statuses are entirely different.

Moreover, she is certain that there is something bonding them together, what, she isn’t sure exactly, there is just this itching crawling under her skin, making all her nerves tingle with excitement, wanting to grab the Irish goddess and hold her close, to protect her, to know her entirely, to pull a smile from crimson lips, to make sure that she feels safe, validated and supported in a way the Girl of Steel is now certain Lena has never experienced, she also wants to tear down all the walls she has built around herself and know the real Lena, the one that’s deeply hidden behind years of trauma and abuse, and it frightens her, her whole life she’s always wanted to make friends, sure, she’s friendly by nature, but this, this depth, she has never before encountered and albeit the horizon seems promising, scary as well but first and foremost promising; it’d imply bringing to light many things that she’d truly rather not. However, as they say, time will tell, and she definitely wants to see what lays on the other side.

The first thing the Superfriends get to after receiving the good news from Kara is to slightly modify the organization of the company’s headquarters; during the last year of their superheroing endeavors they installed a vigilance room to allow their crime-fighting activities to go smoothly (ish). Said room is in the basement, the vault where they keep their prototypes is still there, occupying one full corner; however multiple monitors and computers had been installed as well, to keep track of Nia and Kara while they’re on the field; there are several chairs, and a platform is installed on the middle for debriefing and planning. There are also four suit holders, where Dreamer’s and Supergirl’s suits are, as well as prototypes for Winn and Brainy’s, in case they ever want to join them on the spot. Since they are one of the most innovative tech companies, many of their security and communications prototypes are firstly tested by them on life-saving missions, taking the devices to their tipping point, that way they ensure that every single device and software launched works perfectly under their prompted circumstances. What they added were a few biometric locks to avoid being discovered and a false wall that hides the elevator leading to the lowest floor. The rest of the building remains the same. Safe for the fact that Nia and Brainy have their own office and lab, respectively, on the third floor and on the second floor, where Winn’s supercomputing lab is, they’ve added a med-bay, after several injuries on the field and only a little bit of alcohol and cotton to treat them, some of their most successful medical equipment are used there.

The first time the two of them actually get together to work on the project, or more specifically, to go through the details of their work together; Kara arrives at the CEO’s office with a paper bag filled with doughnuts and two coffees on a cup holder, she's done her research (aka asked Jess) and now knows that the green-eyed woman likes her coffee black, which is something she honestly doesn’t get the fuss of. The Kryptonian thinks it's a great way to start this project, this working-relationship, starting with the right foot and all that, especially considering that she'll put forward her own lab for them to work on the project, is more private than the L-Corp tower, brimming with scientists and business people; and she'll feel a lot more comfortable there, having her friends and colleagues close and being a few steps away from her suit, in case her assistance is needed, is a lot less likely that the genius woman finds it suspicious, she just had to make sure that no scribbles in Kryptonian were left on her desk and project board, the ones she did have were (not) carefully folded (more like threw) in a locked drawer, away from prying eyes.

When she's let into the office, after giving Jess a couple of doughnuts for her invaluable help with her ‘getting to know Lena’ research; she cannot help but be struck dumb (again), and surprisingly it never gets old, at the sight of the Irish woman. The CEO is standing facing the city through her office’s windows, her silhouette highlighted by the sunlight flooding the office, she is wearing a crimson red three-piece suit that fits her perfectly, after she turns around, Kara can see that underneath she’s wearing a black button up, and her signature red lipstick, the whole outfit paired with dangerously high heels. She gestures for the hero to sit down on her very white couch so they can thoroughly review the information they have and design their project’s timetable and budgets, her eyes are glinting like light reflecting from beautiful emeralds, unblemished, there is curiosity written all over them and she smells wonderful, the strong smell of the coffees the blonde is still holding do nothing to diminish the smell of cinnamon and a citric perfume coming from the CEO.

Lena, on the other hand, finds herself to be intrigued by the woman sitting in front of her, she’s wearing a white and black flannel paired with khaki pants and a simple belt at her hips, her hair is braided perfectly and falls over her shoulder; and the whole outfit makes her look so young and innocent that the CEO has to refrain from wanting to hug her, which is not a common circumstance she finds herself in, for someone as touch starved as she is. The scent of the coffees she’s brought still lets a scent of vanilla and lavender get to her nose and she feels at ease, for the first time in who knows how long. She should be worried, about someone having such strong effect on her, but she honestly isn’t, it feels as natural as breathing, there is something about those cerulean blue eyes that settle her heart and even her breathing, like coming home after a long day at work, or falling asleep into a mother’s embrace, she finds it to be really easy to just let go and be.

Both of them engage in shy smiles and deer eyes for a few moments, all boardroom meetings and upcoming deadlines forgotten. With the information they have now they know for sure that current solar panels are very inefficient, you can power two computers and a light bulb tops with the best ones available on the market, and not for a very long time, as their reliability is quite low. But with the system proposed by the Kryptonian who, with huge compliments to Alex, for helping her with the cellular growth and with her help as medical specialist to analyze the results; has spent the past two months thoroughly evaluating her cells solar absorption. The system will work as follows, the nanoparticles oscillate when solar radiation hits them, this is due to a quantum phenomenon called surface plasmon resonance that enhances the radiation through the oscillation of the particles, as a result of their electromagnetic fields, to the wavelength of certain radiations, solar now, and hence, the energy obtained is higher than that of the incident light, then, this enhanced energy in the form of light will go to the circuitry, which will do... something, Kara isn’t entirely sure as to what exactly, even with her engineering background the circuitry she can think of will be huge and inefficient; to turn the radiation into current and voltage so it can be stored in batteries and transported, if necessary.

Lena laughs softly at the woman’s circuitry perception and pipes in, explaining her own vision for the circuitry, she has been thinking about it for the past months, getting all her knowledge together to develop the best system, she proposes to build nanobots that will act as small transformers, turning raw energy into voltage with the aid of electron energies, which are directly bound to voltage, jumping from one orbital to another, however, now that she understands the blonde's idea better, she had been quite secretive about this, she thinks they can add a cobalt isotope battery that would allow the system to store the energy for further use and for long periods of time without any significant decay; the system would allow power to be distributed evenly with no current peaks or voltage drops. They also agree on having the nanobots programmed with a failsafe to prevent the system from supercharging. As enraptured as they are in their little science discussion, finally having someone who gets their brilliant minds and has more ideas, challenging one another, time flies for both of them, and suddenly they have to part ways to keep with their day, having been discussing ideas and details for several hours, there are now several pressing matters that they need to attend. As she is walking out of the office, Kara spears one more look at the green-eyed genius, who is now checking something on her laptop, after turning on the TV in mute, if she didn’t know better, she’d say she’s smitten, but that is a dumb idea.

When Lena is left alone in her office again, she feels light as a feather, in a way she had forgotten one could feel, this project holds many expectations, for both of them, nonetheless, she can finally let her mind free, without being afraid that someone may feel threatened by her intelligence. Smiling softly to herself she turns her attention to her laptop, in order to keep going through accumulated emails and paperwork; remembering then to do something she takes out her phone to call Sam, her CFO and best friend, to let her know about the project and the fact that although she will still be working as CEO and taking care of whatever fires need her attention, the rest of the every-day paperwork will go directly to her, as well as any boardroom meetings (thank God for that), as she herself will be busy with the project.

They are animatedly talking about a certain blonde when a streak of red and blue on her TV catch her attention. Supergirl is rescuing several kids from a severe accident, where their school bus was pushed out of the road and down a cliff by a lory speeding out of control, the images are startling, the destruction left behind by the bus rolling down the hill shows very bad premonitions for the kids’ safety and overall health. However, Dreamer and Supergirl are giving all they have to rescue them as soon as possible, the blonde hero is flying the children to safety five at a time, while Dreamer is holding the bus with blue-energy constructs, to keep it from sliding further into the ocean, from the images being shown, she can tell that the young hero is struggling, even though the Super is taking them out at an impressive speed. Emergency services have started arriving and providing first aid to the more severely injured ones, most of the kids have several bruises and cuts, but she can tell, even with how far the camera is, that some are at actual risk, the few ambulances that have arrived and the traffic piling on both directions are a bad premonition to those who were pierced by metallic pieces or have broken bones, particularly broken ribs.

Kara is gritting her teeth together, trying to keep herself as focused as possible, which is hard on the light of the events. The bus had twenty-seven five- to ten-year-olds, most of them managed to hold onto something the moment their transport was pushed off the road and only show minor scratches and bruising. However, there are a few who are severely injured, and Nia is struggling greatly to keep the bus from keep rolling down the hill and into the ocean, as it is quite heavy and the dirt she’s standing on is very unstable, making her slide further helplessly, hence, she cannot fly to a hospital those whose life is at risk, because even though she can fly extremely fast, human composition and physiology wouldn’t withstand such extreme conditions. She can only hope for the best and try to pull them all faster, one problem at a time.

Without thinking twice, the CEO activates a few codes on her computer and a swarm of aid drones are launched from a nearby warehouse. On screen she sees how the drones arrive on site, giving first aid to anyone that needs it and allowing kids to jump out of the bus by their own feet, the older ones helping those who need it or are too young, the bus driver is the most injured one, nevertheless, she has improved her drones from the first time she presented them, and now they can assess a person and act accordingly faster, by the time Supergirl gets to him, his life is no longer in danger, albeit he’s still pretty beaten up. Through the camera of the drones, she sees the hero waving a thanks and then speeding off with the driver to the nearest ambulance, rushing afterwards to move the problem-causing lory out of the way, so that ambulances may leave as fast as possible, otherwise, all the effort put forward by them, the rescue teams and Lena, would be for nothing. Finally moving to Dreamer’s side to lift the bus back into the road where cranes can dispose it properly.

Letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, the raven-haired woman drops on her chair, just as the news shift from the rescue efforts to a report on how "a xenophobic group declares war on all aliens", according to an anonymous letter that was sent to the news channel, this groups seeks to fight for their planet, to avoid alien invasion and for humans’ rights, as “aliens are a threat to our way of life”.  She feels all blood draining from her face, that sounds an awful lot to what her twisted family believed in, it cannot be though, after Lex was incarcerated, she pulled several strings among the board members, with hard evidence on how Lillian posed a threat to the company, resulting from sharing the same world-domination ideals she pushed onto her son; and thanks to her friends, Sam, Jack and Andrea, helping her buy shares from her mother through shell companies, the woman started losing her spot on the board, eventually being left with absolutely no power over L-Corp, as she owns only about 0.2% of the total shares. That way, Lena prevented her twisted mother from using the company’s resources to do something along the lines of what her brother did, and also from her getting enough money to fund whatever twisted idea of patriotism and ‘right or wrong’ she has. But this, this could very much be their doing, she’ll have to dig into it and make sure that her sick relatives, have nothing to do with it, maybe even find out whoever is actually behind it and put a stop to this nonsense. There is a dread deep in her stomach, that tells her otherwise.

Lena parks her car at the entrance, she is at the direction Kara gave her. She’s wearing black jeans with leather boots and a deep green turtleneck sweater underneath a thigh-high grey coat, as it is the beginning of January and this year’s winter has been quite cold, she can see the puffs of her breath condensing on the air in front of her every time she exhales; the building she’s in front of are the Zor-El Technologies headquarters, she isn’t sure what she was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t this. The building is big, from the outside she’s certain that they would need a few hundred people to fill it, it has huge floor-to-ceiling windows on every floor, and the glass is, she’s certain, bulletproof (the fuck?), which is quite startling, and polarized, so that someone from the outside can’t see what’s happening on the inside but without preventing sunlight from streaming in, however, from the inside you could clearly see the outside. The only detail that differentiates this building as the one from a tech company is the huge Z hanging on the front from the rooftop. She approaches the glass doors, which slide open as soon as she nears them, and is stunned to see that there is no one, no secretary, no front desk, no security detail; there are a few cameras and the lobby is clean, open-spaced, with dark wooden floors and a few paintings hanging from the wall, in the furthest wall, there is an elevator, and coming out from it, is Kara.

The cheery blonde is wearing denim jeans with heeled ankle boots, making her look a few centimeters taller than the CEO; a light pink polo shirt covered by an open lab coat. She hands the green-eyed woman a card with her name on it, which she assumes is her access card, and is quite surprised to see the easiness with which she was given access to this building, family name aside and knowing that she may not have access to all floors and stuff, it’s still refreshing in a way. She is then led to the elevator, where she swipes her card and presses the button to the first level, where she now knows Kara’s lab is, and where she will be spending a lot of time until the end of this joint project. When the doors open, she gives herself a moment to observe.

There are several workbenches across the space, underneath them all are cabinets that contain chemicals and solvents, she assumes; there are tools scattered messily over some tables, screwdrivers, LED’s, tweezers, mixed oddly with Erlenmeyer flasks, hot plates, test tubes and other glassware. On the furthest left corner, right in front of the windows, is a desk, with a small lamp and a laptop, beside it is a cork board filled with scribbles, notes and drawings from other projects the blonde must be working on. There is soft music playing from a couple of speakers next to the elevator and a big painting of a sunset, she thinks, because of the red-ish color of the sky, on the wall to her right. Again, she’s surprised by the easiness with which Kara has let her into her space, her life, because, as a scientist herself, she knows how hard it is to open the doors of her lab to just anyone, so this small gesture amazes her and fills her with warmth, she feels welcomed, there is a knowing feeling that from now on she’ll feel a lot like that.

Research is hard she knows this, even though the background check, patents, recent developments and discoveries; is already done, the first months of their project have been a bumpy ride, to say the least. Their first experiments have been disastrous, to put it nicely, the nanoparticles vary in size to a level of polydispersity were they don’t fulfill their purpose, the nanobots the genius woman has been trying to develop don’t work, not only do they not do what she’s programmed them to, but they don’t do anything at all and is fucking infuriating. She should be able to do this, designing this kind of technology is not new to neither, particularly to the Irish genius, who has actually developed several nanotechnologies to improve life quality. In spite of that, good things have come up, the aching to know each other better, to find out more about them, paired with their constant failures has given them window to actually do so. And it’s heartwarming.

It starts with an invitation to get lunch together from Kara, after another very terrible outcome, they get on Lena’s car and drive downtown, which is only a few kilometers away from the warehouse. They eat at a Chinese restaurant, the best on National City, according to Kara. Engaging into small talk with the blonde, is easy, Lena finds, there is no judgment coming from her, she just listens, sapphire blue eyes earnest and filled with interest, honest interest, making her feel like she’s the only thing that matters; and gives reassurance whenever the Irish woman needs it, even without her actually voicing it, she just notices. What was meant to be a short lunch, became hours of them talking about everything and nothing, the outside world and that stupid project, vanishing for them. Lavender and citric coffee. Green and blue. Kara finds herself lost in kryptonite green eyes, warm and glinting, and a soft smile, the way her hair falls in dark waves only adding more and more to the softness of the woman in front of her, who has suffered and lost so much, she unknowingly and silently makes it her life’s mission to protect this beautiful human being, vowing to no one but herself to always stand up to that promise.

After a few more lunch dates they start getting close, the pull their hearts experience, stronger than ever. The first time Kara goes forward with a hug as a way to greet the raven-haired genius, Lena stiffens as a rock, not being used to such closeness, it takes her a few more attempts at physical contact but when she gives in, she finds her new favorite place, in the blonde’s arms. There is something about the way Kara hugs her that makes her feel at ease and safe, like a small precious creature that needs to be taken care of, as if she were fragile and invaluable, the scent of vanilla and flowers that she has now come to associate with the woman, dizzying, and her warmth, protecting. She feels certain that no one has ever said so much and yet so little with the simplest wrap of arms. She surely has gotten a little enraptured by her hugs. And her eyes, she’s not sure she’s ever seen bluer eyes than those, and she finds captured by them every single time. At first, she felt like they could be deceiving, however, as time went by, she has come to realize that she can read them like an open book, whether is worry or affection, she knows what Kara is feeling, and she’s now certain that the woman can also read her with that same easiness.

Will she ever get used to this woman’s presence? Somehow, she truly hopes not, is addicting the way the baby hairs at the base of her neck seem to electrify the moment she gets into Lena’s eyeline, how her breathing becomes shallower and everything else in her line-of-sight fades. After more than six months working together, she still loses her bearings every single time the raven-haired woman crosses the doorstep of her lab, it’s been natural, the way she seems to exist in her space, the way the move around each other as if they’ve been doing this for years instead of a few months. She has become attuned to the sound of her heartbeat, knowing the precise instant she arrives at the door of the warehouse, to her constant smell of citrus and coffee, she is now an addict of. Moreover, she’s addicted to her smile, her laugh, the way her dimples show whenever she is actually letting herself feel, long gone is the mask of the no-nonsense, cold-blooded CEO every newspaper feasted on.

Lena, on the other hand, has devoted her entire mind to this project, after the first months of failure, they both started gaining momentum and now they seem unstoppable, the device will still take some time as it is groundbreaking and will move Earth’s technology forward several years; however, their progress is excellent and is going ahead of their own agenda. The Luthor is so enraptured by the project that whenever she’s not working on it, her mind is reeling with possibilities; she can’t help it, she is so excited that whenever a new idea or pathway pops into her mind, she springs out of bed and drives to their lab, Kara’s lab, to keep working. After a few times Kara caught her in there, she made it her new purpose to make sure that the woman eats and sleeps properly, becoming aware of her terrible work habits. For Lena, it’s grounding in a way, the fact that someone actually cares for her, is new, and at first it scared her, but she’s come to realize that it’s deeply rooted into the blonde, she truly cares, and her kindness is blinding.

They have become accustomed to each other, and have started opening more, mostly Lena, since Kara still has a super big secret, she’s yet to come clean. The Kryptonian now knows about all the abuse Lena has endured throughout her life. How even though Lillian never actually hit her, she would still make her hate towards the green-eyed woman very well-known, criticizing every single detail, from her posture, to her eye-color, her freckles and every little imperfection she could find; humiliating her for sins she never committed, like that one time she decided to go to a party, during summer, and returned home soaking wet, as a downpour had broken lose, and Lillian made her cook for her and Lex, with her clothes soaked as punishment, and then berated her for dripping water on the floor, forcing her to clean with a rag and a bucket, on her knees. Kara’s heart broke that time, so badly that she couldn’t stop herself and hugged the woman trying to convey all her support and care. Running her fingers through black strands, whispering tenderly into her ear that it wasn’t her fault and that she is worthy.

Kara knows about the huge betrayal her brother committed that time when he went rouge and tried to kill Superman, using one of her own inventions to synthesize kryptonite and embed it into his Lexosuit. She has never trusted anyone after that. Simultaneously, Lena knows that Kara is adopted, she hasn’t given a lot of information about her life prior to the Danvers, but she’s certain it was horrible and traumatizing, she doesn’t want to pry, but she can tell from the way the light in those blue eyes seem to vanish, like a suffocated candle, the way there is a red glint to them, whenever she mentions that she failed, that she should’ve been better, smarter. And Lena holds her, rubs her back and lets her crumble and cry, she’s certain that this personification of the sun had nothing to do with whatever happened and she needs her to understand that, it’s hard. Without them knowing, their hearts started opening, giving the other a soft spot, always there, prevailing, waiting.

Kara has a drawer filled with snacks. Lena is not ever sure why she is surprised by that when the woman is literally always munching on something, how she doesn’t gain weight, she sure as hell doesn’t know; but there is just something about opening her desk’s drawer, which surface is always filled with scribbles, experiments records and calculations, and find it filled to the brim with snacks, from Poky’s to chips and… is that one of the pastries she bought last month? The CEO shakes her head in disbelief, a loving smile forming on her lips, and tries not to think about it too deeply, she absolutely doesn’t steal a chocolate bar. Sitting on a stool in front of the prototype she’s currently trying to make work, her thoughts inevitably drift to how her life has been for the past months. When she first started working in this lab, she got to know all of Kara’s friends and colleagues, and she was impressed again about the easiness with which they let her in. But being alone in Kara’s lab is something else entirely, it is not the first time this has happened, the blonde sometimes remembers she has to do something last minute and gets to it, leaving Lena on her own. Is a small gesture, but it never fails to turn her into goo, being trusted so blindly by someone so caring, she has seen the blonde playing with kids and eating unhuman amounts of ice cream, she is certain that the woman is the impersonation of goodness and the sun, and it makes her feel something she hasn’t given the time, nor wanted to for that matter, to analyze, shoving everything in little mind boxes, her life is pretty messed up without the added weight of feelings, especially with the whole anti-alien campaign.

She pinches the bridge of her nose to try and lessen the upcoming migraine she can feel the beginnings of. Whoever is behind that letter has been working from the dark, pulling strings here and there and planting the seeds of hatred towards aliens. National City has been one of the main destinations of displaced aliens and there were already growing sentiments before this whole thing, nevertheless, there weren’t any actual actions towards them, there are now. A few protests against the recognition of aliens as citizens has arisen, and there are now several youtubers who ‘state facts’ on how aliens are a threat to the human race, a speech about how aliens are taking their jobs and invading their spaces, how they will come and conquer, and who knows what other bullshit. At first she was sure this little uprising was going to end quite fast, and never really gain strength or followers, she was wrong, it turned out that a lot of humans had resentments towards aliens and this has just spurred them to the surface, many other humans who have lost their jobs to aliens have also joined and now is a very wide movement throughout the city that doesn’t seem likely to go down in the near future and is worrying, this kind of hatred-guided obsessions always escalate to more violence from both sides and who knows what could happen.

Sighing and hoping for the best, she turns around to keep working in her nanobots while Kara arrives and drags her to grab some dinner, smiling to herself at the thought of their now usual routine, where they work together all day, Kara always bringing something for lunch for them and at the end of the day she’d drag the raven-haired genius to either her apartment or the blonde’s and they’d have dinner, if Lena was in the mood she’d cook for them, not letting Kara touch anything, being remitted to chopping, if not they’d just simply order something and then watch some Netflix or another rom-com that Kara needs Lena to know (is general knowledge Lena). It fills her body with goosebumps the way they have gotten close, understanding each other easily, as if it had been always them, forever each other. She’s not usually this cheesy, though.

[teddy-bear-surprise]

Chapter 2: The First Assignment

Link to the table of contents and disclaimers: 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐲 ✷ 𝐌𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐤𝐢

A/N: Sorry for the long wait :( I just started writing the third chapter so that should be up relatively soon too... It was supposed to be a part of this chapter but I had to separate it bc google docs starts crapping out after like 10 pages

Mitch and Marcel exited the foyer after a long introduction and walked along the clean marble hallway. As Stilinski followed Marcel, he cautiously scanned the walls admiring the outdated yet stylish design. The heels of his oxfords clicked vibrantly with each stride, echoing against the tall ceiling. As their steps approached Genevieve’s hiding spot, she scampered back into her sanctuary. She stole a quick glance into the hallway, locking eyes with Mitch.

The sudden and unintended eye contact with Celestin’s daughter drove a stake through Mitch’s heart and invoked the dozens of warnings that Didier and Hurley had drilled into his head the prior week. Whatever you do, Stilinski, don’t engage with his daughter. Hey, Stilinski, remember that Marcel Celestin will literally rip you to pieces if you fuck up. Don’t forget: if Celestin even suspects you might be interested in his daughter, you’re deader than dead.

Mitch averted his eyes and gave his head a quick shake, ridding himself of the ridiculous internal commentary. He clearly understood the severity and danger of his employment, but he struggled to wrap his head around the notion of a father as overprotective as Marcel. Mitch never had anyone worry about him like that. When he joined the CIA, he was only able to do so because of his complete lack of family, friends, and life. He had always seen himself as expandable to a certain extent. Stilinski would put his life on the line, time after time, because he just could not fathom anything more important than his mission. In attempting to understand Marcel’s neuroticism, Mitch realized that Marcel’s mission was handing off his “business” to Genevieve, and that– like him– Marcel would stop at nothing to see his mission through. Even so, Mitch questioned the validity of the horror stories he had been bombarded with regarding the Celestins.

A lock snapped loudly, bringing Mitch out of his trance, as another one of Marcel’s employees opened the door for them to enter Marcel’s grand office. The walls were lined with glimmering trophies from Marcel’s past and photographs of him and Genevieve; Mitch was struck with surprise to see a mafioso’s office look so ordinary. The floor here was no longer made of stone and was instead a smooth dark wood. In the center of the room there lay a large, illustrious rug with a heavy mahogany desk sitting atop it. On the wall behind the desk, two grand windows brightened the room and gave it life.

Marcel continued walking in front of Stilinski, making his way to the looming chair behind the desk. He sat himself down, motioning across the desk, and told Mitch to take a seat. Mitch pulled out a chair and rested his body weight on the arm as he lowered himself onto the seat. He then leaned forward and looked at Marcel, waiting for further instruction.

“Stilinski,” Celestin began, “After Didier assesses your physical abilities today, I have a job for you. Tomorrow, I want you to take my daughter, Genevieve, to Paris. It’s been years since she’s been to the city and I’m having a soireè next week so she needs a new outfit. Your job is simple, keep her alive, make sure she gets something nice, and obviously don’t fuck up.”

“Of course, Sir. It would be my pleasure.” Mitch replied immediately, though his mind was churning.

“Let’s consider this a gesture of good faith. You get her there and back in one piece and you get to keep your job, you fail and… Well, I think you know what happens then, don’t you?”

Stilinski took a deep breath, “Yes, Sir. I am aware. Thank you for this opportunity, I won’t let you down.”

Celestin nodded his head towards the door, indicating that Mitch should leave. “Good, I wouldn’t want to lose another half-decent guard to incompetency.”

Mitch nodded while he got up and walked to the door. As he reached for the knob, the door swung open and he came face to face with Genevieve. Again. He looked down at her, unintentionally, before quickly backing away and letting her pass in front of him. She kept her eyes on him for another second before waltzing towards her father’s desk.

“One of the guards gave me a note telling me to meet you down here, what’s going on?”

“You know what, Genevieve, you got here just in time. Stilinski, stay here for just another minute and shut the door, will you?”

Stilinski closed the door again, “Yes, Sir.”

“Genevieve, I want you to meet our newest guard, Mitch Stilinski. He’s going to take you into Paris tomorrow to pick some things up for the event I’m planning for next weekend.”

Genevieve turned and glared at Mitch, slightly squinting her eyes, “Really?”

She had not meant it in a rude way, but she was truly shocked that her father would let the ‘new guy’ take her into the city.

“Sorry,” Genevieve continued. “That sounds like a brilliant idea father.”

Marcel smirked and waved his hand, dismissing the both of them. Mitch re-opened the door, holding it open for Genevieve. She walked past him without so much as a glance. Genevieve slipped back into the library, slamming the door loudly behind her.

Mitch, as confused as ever, shut Marcel’s door quietly. He walked rapidly away, trying to figure out where the gym was. He eventually found it, the first door to the right of the foyer, and saw Didier patiently waiting inside. Didier was leaning against a padded wall, wrapping his hands, dressed in a black t-shirt and sweatpants.

Didier greeted him nonchalantly, “So, Stilinski, how’s the first day going?”

“It could be better. Celestin already gave me an assignment and I don’t know if I’m anywhere near ready to take on this kind of responsibility.”

“Well then, you better learn soon.” He chuckled at the quip and rolled his eyes, “I kinda figured that out on my own, Axel. I’m gonna go change but I’ll be back in a minute.”

Stilinski stumbled into the locker room, trying to find the locker with his number on it. When he had been tattooed with the crow on his neck, he was assigned a number. Mitch had been given the number 7 following the death of the original number 7 in a gruesome shoot-out. The number was hidden within the bird’s eye, forever marking him as one of Celestin’s disciples. He scanned up, down, and across until the number 7 caught his eye. It was hidden in the far right corner of the locker room and when he opened it, it contained the same black shirt, pants, and hand wraps that Didier had. Mitch carefully took off his suit, hanging it in the locker, and put on the black ensemble. He wrapped his hands quickly as he walked out of the locker room.

Mitch and Axel sparred for over an hour, neither one could seem to knock the other down long enough to win. It seemed that, though years ago, Hurley’s training had stuck in their minds. Both of their hands were covered in bruises beneath the wraps, only a few punches away from dislocating a knuckle. They panted heavily as they threw punches and kicked at each other with sweat dripping into their eyes. Mitch approached Axel, hoping to win the match with a final punch, but Didier was more experienced and used Mitch’s own momentum against him. He punched Stilinski sharply in the jaw, knocked him onto his back, and held him down with one knee.

“5… 4… 3… 2… 1… I win!” Didier lifted his knee from Mitch’s chest as he stood up.

“You know,” Began Stilinski, “I would normally be mad that you beat me, but I’m so tired right now that I couldn’t care less.”

“Yeah right, Stilinski. I know I hurt your ego.” He held a hand out to Mitch.

Stilinski stood up, “I’m serious, the jet lag, the sparring, and the weird threats… I’m exhausted from all this shit and it’s only day one.”

“You’ll get used to it. Why don’t you tell me more about this new assignment of yours while we do a few miles on the treadmill?”

“Great, running and talking. My two favorite things. I’ll agree to it this once, but only because I don’t have the slightest fucking idea about what to do tomorrow.”

A few rooms down, Genevieve continued obsessively daydreaming about her outing to Paris. She could hardly even remember what stores she used to shop at in the city, let alone how to dress for an event as nice as the one her father was planning. Along the bottom row of the library shelves, there was a handful of fashion magazines, they were all a few seasons old but she figured they would hold up well enough. After all, how much could fashion really change?

Genevieve leafed through the pages, dog-earing the outfits she thought might be appropriate for the occasion. She closed her eyes, letting the sun seep through her eyelids as she pictured herself walking down the long staircase in a shimmering sage dress.

In her mind, the ideal dress would be fuller than full, putting at least two feet between her and everyone else; it was to have a laced corset bodice covered in lilac petals and small beads; and the straps would hang loosely off of her shoulders, brushing her skin ever so slightly. Unfortunately, however, Genevieve knew that it would be impossible to find such a dress on such short notice. She continued flipping through dozens of magazines until dinnertime, jotting down the names of certain shops and designers that were based in Paris, and hoped that one of them might be able to produce a miracle. Soon after, Genevieve’s night came to a close and she drifted off to sleep dreaming about the following day’s adventures.

“Genevieve, my darling, it’s time for you to get up. You’ve got to go into the city to find an outfit. Remember?”

Marcel sat down on Geveieve’s bed, rubbing her shoulder softly. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. At only seven in the morning, the sun had just begun it’s work and shone weakly along the horizon. Its rays reflected off of the curtains and into Genevieve’s eyes, causing her to turn away from the window.

“Yes, I remember.” She sighed with uncertainty, “Papà, I’m not quite sure I’m up for this today. This seems like such a big step to take… for me, and for the new guard.”

Genevieve’s stomach churned and her heart began beating quickly. Suddenly, it felt like the whole world– despite its beauty– had put her into a chokehold. She breathed with shallow gasps, never seeming to get enough oxygen. Her arms grew weak and she laid back down, praying that the horrible feeling would subside.

Her father’s eyebrows furrowed together, “You’ll be okay, my darling. I would never let anything happen to you. I promise.”

Marcel got up and opened Genevieve’s door, calling out for someone to bring a glass of water.

“But what if something did happen? What if…”

Marcel cut her off, “I know you’re anxious. I know, but give it an hour, and then you can decide if you want to go or not.”

His words, while not very helpful, provided some comfort. For some reason, Genevieve had a nasty habit of developing nauseating anxiety in the early morning. It had been happening since she was a child, but as she had not woken up before nine am in many years, she had grown unaccustomed to the feeling. It used to just set her back by a few minutes, only occasionally proving to be a real problem. Now, however, Genevieve felt like she had been hit by a two-ton garbage truck.

The same man who had brought her lunch yesterday walked in with a tall glass of water. He handed it to Genevieve who sipped on it slowly.

“Well, I’ll be in my office if you need anything. I’ll check back in an hour to see how you are. Sebastien, let’s go.” Her father patted her head and walked out, Sebastien closing the door behind them.

Genevieve sat up and leaned against the wall, breathing deeply and naming everything in her vicinity. She saw her bed, her hands, the door, the windows, and the glass of water on her bedside table. Her skin felt the cool fabric of her bed, the cold glass between her palms, the single feather poking out of her pillow, and the wall behind her head. Her ears could pick out the faint sound of voices outside, birds chirping, and the wind blowing. With each inhale, she could smell breakfast being made in the kitchen mixing with the fresh scent of her bedsheets. Taking a sip of water, she noted that she didn’t quite taste anything, but that always seemed to happen when she got to the last step.

During the next fifty-five minutes Genevieve’s breath became more natural and her heartbeat slowed. Still leaning against the wall, she bent over to place the empty water glass on her bedside table, wondering why she held onto it for so long. Her father came in soon after as if he had telepathically sensed her newfound calm.

He sat beside her, taking her hand in his, “So, was I right? Are you feeling better now, Genevieve?”

“Yeah, I guess I do feel better.” She let a small smirk take over her face.

“See, daughter, all you needed was some time. That is our most precious resource. Not our money, not our network, not our assassins… It’s the one we take the most for granted, our time. One day, you’ll see just how little time we really have.” Marcel let go of her hand, “Now, you go on into the city to find something nice to wear.”

Genevieve stood up and ushered her father out. She figured it was time to get dressed since she had already wasted so much time. After changing, she brushed her teeth and rushed downstairs, hoping to make the most of her time. While Genevieve was not necessarily excited to be going shopping, it was an opportunity that she had not been able to experience in a long time.

Her father led her to a car that was waiting out front with Mitch behind the wheel. He tilted his head down by an inch when he noticed her as a sign of respect. Genevieve slid into the back seat quietly, pulling her backpack over her knees. As she looked back towards him, Marcel shut the car door and gave her a soft smile. He patted the side of the car and Mitch slowly drove away, the sounds of gravel crunching beneath the tires. Genevieve turned solemnly towards her home, watching it shrink into the horizon. This outing was a new type of adventure for both herself and Mitch, and neither of them knew what to expect.

[currentlylurking]

Dannymay: 25 - 31

Days 1 - 24

Break

Ghosts are creatures of habits and bonds - if something happens to render their habits impossible, and severs their bonds, then they break. Sometimes, they go from complex people to feral beasts - others, their sole goal becomes to cause others to hurt as they were hurt. 

In the Ghost Zone, the most common and tragic example of a ghost breaking is Pariah Dark - when one of the Ancients destroyed his wife and children, he began to target other families - he’d include them of improper grieving, and force the father-figure to watch as he hurt them just as he had been hurt.

The worst example of a ghost breaking, however, was known to very few - only the ones who had been involved in the creation of halfa-hybrid knew about him. His rampage had been averted and now he sat, contained, on a small shelf in a dark room.

And as the reasons he had broken in the first place were averted one by one, he gained a bit more control, a bit more realization of what, exactly, he had done.

Strange

Danny sputtered, “I - I just - I didn’t think you had any hobbies.”

Clockwork raised an eyebrow, and placed the half-sewn shirt on the desk in front of him - he crossed his arms and looked a bit offended. “Of course I have hobbies, Daniel - why is it so strange that I do something besides monitor the timestream all day? You sound like the Observants.”

Danny winced, and held up his hands in surrender - Clockwork still frowned at him. “I just thought you’d be more into, like, bonsai trees or something - not making clothes, especially since you only ever wear the one thing.”

Buried

“If we find a secret city buried under here, I’m leaving,” Tucker announced, which was the most valid thing he’d said since they entered Amity Park’s horror-movie-esque sewers. 

“What if it’s Eldorado?” Sam said, which was more valid - Danny nodded along. “Are you really going to run away from the city of gold just because it’s a bit creepy?”

“If we’ve ended up in Mexico, then I’m leaving faster,” Tucker said, “every time we find a spooky secret teleport I have to do something dumb.”

That was also fair, but Danny thought for a second - “Wouldn’t it be more likely that we find Atlantis or something?”

Diner

“What can I get for you, sugar?” The ghost asked, and Danny did his best to force a smile - it still came out strained, and he could see the pity on the ghost’s face. 

“Actually, I wanted to talk to one of your employees - she’s a friend of mine, and newly... new.”

The ghost sighed, “follow me,” she led him back to the kitchen, and Danny saw them - all of them. Every single employee of the Nasty Burger, focused on the work at hand - with Valerie near the back, flipping burgers like it was a normal day at work.

It was a bit comforting to see that, at least, none of them had suffered when the vat of sauce overheated.

Heat

Jack plugged in the heated blanket, turned on the space heater, and gave a final check that Danny was securely wrapped up in a multitude of quilts. When he’d checked on his sleeping son, he’d been as cold as the dead - except, of course, he was very much alive.

Hopefully the extra heat would help him. When he woke up, Jack would bring him a nice hot drink and some soup.

Let it never be said that Jack Fenton didn’t have his family’s best interest at heart, after all! Danny would be so much more comfortable in his nice warm bed, and he’d surely have an excellent sleep - maybe even dream about hunting ghosts with his old man!

Family

“He is the exact opposite of the kind of ghosts you should be focusing on,” Fright Knight said, “your subjects will be angry.”

“Let them be angry,” Pariah Dark said, and lowered the bow he’d been practicing with, “Clockwork is my brother - I am not just handing him over to the Observants just because he has some weird powers.”

“You’re supposed to work in cooperation with the Observants,” Fright Knight sighed, “antagonizing them with laws like this will only build animosity between our factions.”

“Good,” Pariah said, “Write it into law - if any ghost inflicts physical damage to another’s blood relative or significant other, then the family of the affected ghost is allowed to retaliate tenfold. The next time someone lays a hand on my brother I’ll make them wish they’d never formed.”

Free Day (aka pick your own prompt, and I picked Grief!)

“You’re not the only one who’s lost everything,” Clockwork said. “I lost my brother, my friends, any family I had - I do understand, I promise. But this isn’t the way to deal with it, Daniel.”

Dan laughed in the face of the Master of Time, the Observants’ little pet meddler, their puppet on a string. “That’s cute, did they tell you to say it?”

“The Observants don’t know I’m here,” Clockwork said, voice slow and gentle, “this is just a conversation between two people who are still grieving.”