#aura and the terrible horrible no-good very bad day

[an-aura-about-you]

so MY day blew absolute chunks!

under the cut for sickness both human and animal, vomit mention, family trouble, a near accident, and general unpleasantness.

-started the day kinda lazy and late since I was sick Sunday and part of Monday. ended up starting it so late that by the time I fed the cat he wolfed it down too fast and vomited it back up. :( so that was a thing I had to clean up before leaving.

-got a message from my sibling that our mother is Losing Her Goddamn Mind. what's going on is she's started drinking again, and this is apparently the final straw for Dad, who has decided a separation is in order for him to establish proper boundaries. so he and my sibbie are moving out into an apartment. so our mother swung right into angry and controlling and straight up said my sibling was "trying to steal her husband." a quick bullet list on that:

What??

Ewwwww!

NO!

WHAT??????????????

anyway, I told my sibbie they could use my spare keys to stay at my place if they like while I'm out at the office.

-leave for work with the bare minimum of what I need for the day to be okay: my laptop, lanyard, phone, headphones, cane, and half a bottle of Gatorade. I don't bring a lunch, a reusable cup, any of my herbal teas I use to make flavored water, and my money situation is so tight that buying lunch means it's going on the credit card. but at this point I'm like, "fuck it, I'll buy lunch."

-one bit of luck: at the lunch kiosk they're selling chicken gumbo, so I get a cup of that and it's not too pricey AND it tasted good. also earlier I overheard the lady who works there talkin' nice about me behind my back after I came in and wished the crew there good morning. (I pass the lunch kiosk on the way to the elevators.)

-the site to clock in and out was malfunctioning for me most of today. I had to send an email for FOUR missing punches, the most I've ever had to deal with. at least I can back up my presence with the group chat, my badging in and out of the office, and witnesses.

-I got some texts from the social committee, which was fine that they got to do the Valentine's Day treat bags for all our neighbors, but I was sad that I was too sick on Sunday and working yesterday and today, so I couldn't help put them together or pass them out. :( (I did get mine when I got home and it was very cute!)

-lunch time rolls around, so I go out to a nice coffee shop and get some tea. there was construction on my way, so I try looking into an alternate path back to the office. once I realized that path would take longer than going through the construction again, I turn around and on my way back I NEARLY GOT HIT BY A CAR TURNING LEFT INTO THE ROAD???? AND THEY HAD THE NERVE TO HONK AT ME LIKE I WASN'T SUPPOSED TO BE THERE WHEN THEY WERE THE ONE TURNING?????????

-I get some extra work tonight because even though I'm not doing my day team's banks this week, I'm learning how to hand them out AND a night team coworker had some connection issues so I had to do two of her banks.

-I also found out that the coworker who does the day team banks this week will be out tomorrow, so I WILL have to do the day team banks then.

-all after my last break, I heard my bothersome coworker talk on and on about her conservative politics, cooking info that I know from my Le Cordon Bleu background doesn't work with the science, and medical misinformation that will likely get her killed. this is the same person who has a "strongly held religious belief against wearing masks" and "believes parasites cause cancer." her latest take is that sugar causes all ills. arthritis? sugar. dementia? sugar. glaucoma? sugar. like, what????? is any of this actually proven? by a reputable source?

-when I got home I found that the cat coughed up a hairball on my comforter. :(

[demon-of-the-ancient-world]

Hughhhghhhh ok fine the intrusive thoughts win, I'm just gonna do it. Athelstan headcanons but just the ones that are angst/whump based because some feral part of me needs to Harm Him:

His hands and feet still hurt terribly at times, even years after the wounds there have healed. Cold and damp weather makes it worse.

Sometimes it gets bad enough that he can't hold a pen (or an axe, for that matter) properly, and it becomes hard to walk

But he keeps it to himself, shutting himself away from others if necessary

Tries his best not to look at the scars because if he does even for a short time he starts Remembering Things

He draws to alleviate the stress on his mind, and his drawings - the secret ones he doesn't show to anybody - get quite disturbing

(Ragnar never tells him this, but he does find them one day. And it breaks his heart.)

Ok apparently a common theory about the "sky dragons" that were seen before the Vikings' attack on Lindisfarne was that they were actually northern lights and that made me think ; any time he sees northern lights now, in a climate where they're more common, he has bad dreams. Without fail. He's tried to get over it, and his artist's brain tries to see the beauty in them, but it doesn't help.

Ragnar (and Gyda while they lived on the farm) try to show them to him on winter nights, thinking he'll love it, and he doesn't have the heart to tell them they Freak Him Out

Allergic to bee stings. He finds out when he's watching over the kids one day and Bjorn thinks it would be fun to disturb a wasp nest. He makes a valiant effort to shoo him and Gyda back to the house...and in turn ends up with a very swollen face

A Lot of nightmares. First about the attack at the monastery and later about the crucifixion

And about his family dying. He always *thinks* he's forgotten about that, or that it doesn't affect him anymore, but it always comes back to him and he realizes he was Wrong

(And the fact that he wasn't actually there when it happened almost makes it worse, because it leaves him to just imagine what happened. And he has a very good imagination.)

When he gets one bad enough, he knows he won't be able to sleep at all afterwards, and spends the rest of the night writing, or sketching, or just pacing around. Walking outside helps, but he can only do that when it's not too cold

Gets headaches easily. I headcanon that he's a little nearsighted and doesn't even realize he's straining his eyes (and spending years squinting at tiny print didn't do him any favours)

It's sorta canon that he's somewhat prone to hallucinations, and I like to think it's a thing that happens sometimes when his brain is very very overwhelmed - but he probably keeps it to himself and has it in his head that they're either visions trying to "teach" him something but he can't figure out what, or that there's something Horribly Wrong With Him and he lives in fear of what that might be

Usually it's just weird blobs out of the corner of his eye that won't go away (like migraine aura type stuff) but after the incidents of season 2 he's always on edge of what else he might see

While his wounds were healing in Wessex he spends days slipping in and out of consciousness, not sure if he's dead or alive, with friends or enemies

And he calls out for Ragnar more than once - Ecbert never tells him about this, but definitely keeps it in mind

Dreams about hell, and later Ragnarok. A lot.

Like I've said before he doesn't get sick very often, but when he does it hits him like a truck

It's not uncommon for him to get super high fevers when he's sick, which doesn't help with the already present nightmares At All

Or the potential hallucinations

Had asthma as a little kid and cold weather still irritates his lungs sometimes, prone to chest infections

Hates being seen in any vulnerable state Whatsoever because he's Always Just Chill Always Everything's Fine

But is actually so clingy to a surprising degree once it's out there that he Needs Help & someone's there to help him & he gets to collapse, whoever that person is they are Staying Now

Gets panic attacks after being crucified. Can't stand the sound of things being nailed together (@adhdnightmare This One) it sets his teeth on edge and he wants to run away and hide - he doesn't put two and two together at first until he does and is like oh

Doesn't like to be touched when going through one of these episodes, Ragnar knows he gets them and has learned how to talk him through it without touching him (even though all his instincts are telling him to wrap that lil guy up in the biggest bear hug)

For a short time he can't even look at his own cross necklace without breaking out in a cold sweat, and of course THAT stresses him out big time because what if it's The Devil talking??? What if he's Bad Now??? His religion-based stress is never ending.

Occasionally this anxiety comes back even years down the line, and each time he's like. ah ok this is gonna be a Bad Mental Health Day isn't it.

There's gotta be more somewhere but hm that's all for tonight

@grantairescurls @procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics @levithestripper @starrose17 hi guys it's Me Again

[meepwritessometimes]

uhhhhh mafuena royal/painter thing

welcome back to another episode of ‘i wrote fan fiction for a school assignment’. we were given the them of ‘rebellion’ so i uhhhhhhh

it’s not my best work ever but i am happy with it, and it’s not explicitly romantic. it might also be a bit ooc idk man

fic under the cut

     The roses glistened with morning dew. Leftover petrichor from last nights’s storm lingered in the air. Ena averted her gaze from the worms stranded on the pavement, bringing her focus back to her canvas. The flowers looked fine, but there was something about the piece that was… lifeless? Unappealing? No, maybe stagnant. Ena’s work had been stagnant lately.

     When her father had left for a commission of great importance, he had begrudgingly allowed Ena to complete any small jobs that she “had no chance of screwing up”. So, for the last few days, she had painted a few landscapes, and now a few flowers. The roses were the last order on her small list, so it didn’t really matter if she was happy with how they turned out. Finish the painting, put it on the order table, relax.

     Half an hour later, Ena packed up her supplies. The sides of her hands were stained red and orange, the thin layer of paint flaking off a bit as she clutched her brushes with a fist. The sun was nearing its apex, so she had plenty of time to unwind. She arrived at her- well, her father’s -workshop and washed her hands of the day’s work. As the painter dried her hands, she heard the door jungle. Crap, had she left the door open?

     “We’re closed, come back tomorrow.” Ena returned to the foyer, only to find a magpie tilting its head at her. It had a scroll in its beak, bearing the unmistakable seal of the royal family. Ena sucked in a sharp breath, snatching it from the bird. She unrolled the scroll. It was addressed to her father, asking him, as talented and famous as he was (Ena scrunched her face), to paint a portrait of the princess for her 18th birthday.

…

     This was a horrible, terrible, no good, very bad idea. This was one of the stupidest things Ena had ever done, which was saying something. This very much counted as a decidedly not small job in the slightest that she had a very good chance of screwing up. If she failed this, her father might actually disown her. On the other hand, if she succeeded, he and the rest of the world would have no choice but to acknowledge her ability. It was an opportunity she couldn’t possible pass by, no matter the risk. Which was exactly why she found herself heading to the castle, art supplies in tow.

     By the time she had convinced the guards she was here in place of her father and was being escorted to the princess’s room, Ena was trying not to shake. This was actually happening. What the heck.

     “Princess Mafuyu, the painter is here.” The guard next to her announced to the door.

     “Ah, yes, come in! Thank you Bernard.”  (presumably)Mafuyu replied.

     “Of course, my liege.” The guard, Bernard, replied.

     Ena fidgeted with the strap of her jumper. She couldn’t be this ridiculously formal.

     Bernard opened the door, and the artist stepped inside. After glancing around the spotless room, Ena’s eyes landed on her subject (art subject, rather. Technically Ena was the princess’s royal subject). The young woman smiled politely. They were about the same age, but Mafuyu exuded a certain aura of maturity that seemed to add another year or two. She sat poised on the edge of her bed, hands folded in her lap.

     “Is this pose alright?” The princess cocked her head slightly.

     “Yeah, that’s fine.” Ena pulled her eyes away from Mafuyu, unpacking her supplies.

…

     Several hours later, the portrait was more or less complete. Thanks to a large, annoyingly placed window, the light had shifted as the day flew by. As a result, Ena’s shading was inconsistent in places. She sighed, scanning her work again for anything else she should fix. The painted girl stared at her, acrylic eyes hiding layers of imperfections that had been painted over several times. The artist glanced between her work and her subject. The anatomy was fine, she had successfully captured fabric folds and details on the princess’s dress, the background wasn’t distracting… and yet, something still felt off.

     Ena looked back up. “You can relax now, you know. I’m basically done.”

     Mafuyu nodded, softening her perfect posture a little, though her back remained straighter than Ena’s ever was. Maybe that was the problem. Mafuyu was simply too perfect, and Ena was far too flawed to ever hope to capture her. ..No, that was stupid. Nobody was perfect, not even pretty princesses with impeccable manners and rooms so clean one could see their reflection in the floor.

     “We need to go somewhere.” Ena set her brushes and palette down, taking the canvas off the eisel so she could collapse the latter.

     “Where?” Mafuyu tilted her head again.

     “Anywhere but here. I can’t paint you properly here.”

     “But… you just did, no?” The princess gestured to the portrait, confused.

     “No, I didn’t. And I won’t be able to as long as we”re in this lifeless place.” Ena remembered she was in royal quarters. “Uh, not to insult your interior design tastes.” Even though it really was horribly dull and near suffocating.

     Mafuyu’s expression flickered for a second before returning to a smile. “We’ll, you’re the artist here, I suppose. Where should we relocate to? The throne room? The dining hall? The gardens?”

     “Gardens, sure.” That was the only good option, really. The other two might’ve even been somehow even more smotheringly perfect than the princess’s room.

     Mafuyu got up, heading towards the door.

     “Actually,” Ena interrupted the movement. “Do you have anything a little less…” She eyes the princess’s dress. “Ornate?”

…

     They made their way to the garden, passing a few guards along the way. If they noticed that Mafuyu was wearing her nightgown, they didn’t say anything. To Ena’s dismay, the gardens were flawless too.

     “Aren’t they beautiful?” Mafuyu smiled. “Everything is in its own perfect spot, exactly where they should be.” The princess spoke as if she was reciting words she’d heard a thousand times.

    Ena clenched her fists. “Are you kidding me? It’s stupid! Nothing’s perfect, that’s a lesson I had to learn the hard way, and honestly still am learning. Especially not nature! Plants don’t do… that!” She waved her hands at the rows of flowers, identical one after another, not a single petal astray. “Whoever thought making them all stiff like this was a good idea clearly doesn’t understand the point of gardens.” Ena took a breath and huffed. “My point is, this isn’t gonna work either. We need to get off the castle grounds entirely. This whole place is the problem.”

     Mafuyu’s polite smile was wiped clean off her face. ashe stood frozen, eyes darting around before finally landing in the misery that was eye contact right now.

     “Uh- crap, um, sorry. Didn’t mean to get so worked up, it’s just been bothering me all afternoon.” Ena turned away, crossing her arms.

     “I-“ Mafuyu pulled her hands together by her waist, taking a shaky breath. “I can’t leave the premises, my mother will be terribly worried.”

     Ena narrowed her eyes. “Can’t worry if she doesn’t know.” That had been her little brother's response to the same line of reasoning when they were younger. Though, admittedly, asking the princess to sneak away from the queen was another thing entirely.

     Mafuyu was conflicted. She gazed at the perfect rows of flowers around the,. then at Ena, and then closed her eyes. “Okay.” It was quiet, but it was enough.

…

     Even as soon as they had left through the public exit, people were staring. Ena watched Mafuyu’s face light up whenever anyone looked at them for a few minutes before realizing they should be more subtle.

     “Hey, princess, you’re a little too recognizable.” Ena elbowed Mafuyu, who turned her head towards the painter in turn.

     “Hm, I suppose that does come with being part of the royal family.” She thought for a moment, then took her ponytail down. It was actually kind of surprising how such a small change made Mafuyu look significantly less like the princess everyone knew.

     “Not bad… Here, this’ll make it look a little less like you’re in your pyjamas.” Ena shrugged off her light jacket and handed it to the other.

     “Thank you so much, er…”

     “Ena. Also, stop smiling like that. People will think you’re weird now that they won’t immediately recognize you as the princess.”

     “Oh, alright.”  Mafuyu’s face relaxed to neutral, like someone lying down after a long day.

     They walked together, the painter lugging her supplies behind her in the usual cart. The sun was now falling from its perch, bathing the world in a soft, warm glow (Huh, Ena hadn't realized it had gotten so late). Mafuyu watched as people walked towards the markets, chattering away with plans for the weekend and playful gossip. Ena tried not to stare, but she still had to properly paint Mafuyu, and every second they relaxed in the fresh evening, that seemed more and more possible.

     The two of them didn’t go anywhere busy, just walked through a small park by the market square. There were people sitting on benches enjoying treats from nearby stalls, but nobody playing or causing a ruckus as there would’ve been earlier in the day.

     A rustle in a bush to their left drew both young women’s attention. The light hitting Mafuyu’s face was gorgeous, but the expression on it was tense. The bush thing moved a little more, until a small black rabbit wiggled its way out from the shrubbery.

     “Can’t believe we just got stopped in our tracks by a bun- huh?” Ena watched Mafuyu smile, but not like the polite one from before. This smile was small and tender. Nostalgic, even. This was the Mafuyu Ena wanted to paint.

…

     The moment had passed to quickly for Ena to really capture, but she had manages to grab a smaller canvas and start sketching fast enough to get the eyes, which would’ve been the trickiest to do from memory. Mafuyu straightened her back again once she noticed.

     “Oh! Are you ready to paint now?” The polite smile returned.

     “No- I mean, yes, but stop making that face again.” Ena sighed, sketching hurriedly as the golden light faded. Mafuyu hesitated, but complied. 

     By the time the sketch was done, it was too dark to start painting. Annoying, since Ena’d had to drag all her paints over here, but it wasn’t like there was much she could do about it now. She only hoped that fleeting instant that Mafuyu truly smiled would stay fresh in her mind’s eye for later.

     “I… really should get going.” The princess gazed up at the crescent moon. “Thank you for tonight.” She left too quickly for Ena to respond.

     That night, Ena worked tirelessly on the painting of Mafuyu. It was messy, a collage of warm sunset tones, rich purples and light grays from her memory. It was imbued with feelings that were likely more Ena’s than the painting’s, but that was alright. It wasn’t stagnant in the slightest, it wasn’t perfect in the slightest, and Ena was happy with it. Maybe it wasn’t  the picture of the flawless princess that had been commissioned. Maybe they’d hang the first portrait up, its lifeless, polite gaze baring down the palace walls, and it would fit right in. Maybe Ena would never have a chance to show Mafuyu the new, better one. But then again, maybe she would.

End

[the-witchs-archives]

[LOST IN PURE SILENCE, EPILOGUE]

[From the POV of Earl Grey]

Was I always this cruel? I treated my dolls with such care, and my mother praised me for it, but sometimes I wonder if I'm doing more harm than good.. no, I'm saving them, I was not myself during that, that's when I spotted their shadow in the corner, turning my doll body to face them.

Eyes of blue, and a friendly yet sinister smile. I could tell that face from anywhere, having grown up with them. Though right now, they were just a shadow, a very influential one.

"That was an entertaining sight to see, brother!"

The figure spoke, the dreary and hostile atmosphere almost melting away. Of course, I could tell why I was so aggressive now... the auras. They could give off auras to affect people; fear, violence, even paralysis... and the auras could be focused on individuals.

"You had watched the whole time, I assume?"

"Indeed I did! What a show, that meager little knight was shaking in his boots, and you really showed who's boss!"

I knew that our bond was strong even if we weren't biologically related, from that day where they fell, to the very seconds flowing in this moment, we never fought each other, maybe back then, but never now.

"Now you have yours to deal with back home, yes? I've dealt with mine... but why did you have to make me hurt my dearest friend?"

I felt guilty for cutting into his neck like that, he agreed to be silenced, but did I have to be so extra about scaring his lover while under the influence of their aura?

"Brother, scratch that, do you still have your doughmanity within you?"

...why did I call them my brother? I'm better than this.

"Well, I meant sibling-"

"Call me whichever you will, Earl. I never had intentions to hurt your dearest friend, I must have gotten a little too excited with you pushing around that ■■■■■■■ marked cookie. As for my Doughmanity?... I'm not so sure, considering you know of what I have done."

Considering I know? Well, they've done so much. Affected countless lives because of things that happened before, and yet they seem to hold so much happiness in their face.. I wonder if the same applies to their soulstone.

They've made... so many things to satiate their desire to be on top. It's why they were so attracted to birds of prey in their youth, and now they were The Predator.. the strongest bird of prey..

"I still feel horrible for it. He wasn't doing anything wrong."

"You didn't cut too deep, at least. Just enough to get the jam running. Deeper, and it would have been richer."

"I still feel terrible about it, Whipped Cream is my dearest friend, I didn't want to hurt them, I didn't want to reveal that I am The Silence! I never wanted to hurt anyone..."

I didn't realize that I was distressed, I guess I held more doughmanity than the others.. I just sighed and backed away, picking up the fallen mask that was my face.

"Earl, it's only a matter of time before they find out who I am too. Their curious natures bring them to the strangest of beings. Don't feel bad that you revealed yourself. I'm also to blame here for making you feel violent."

And what they were saying was more truth than not... It didn't reassure me, but it made me feel not as bad.

I nodded, opening the Hall again and disappearing into its nothingness, soon, I'll be able to help them too.

[From the POV of Whipped]

The last few days were rough, but the wound had healed mostly, but Dark Choco was worried about me.. holding me close whenever we slept together, even making sure that the others couldn't hurt me... oh and the legs? They're functional, Earl Grey is a great friend for giving me these white and gold legs... they feel like porcelain but it hasn't broken yet!..

Today is the day that we have to return home...

Dark Choco's been on edge since the start of the day, but he's kept a calm expression, though I swear he's shed a few tears. I don't want to leave him either, it's been so long but.. now we've only been back together for a short time, only to part again. I haven't been able to let him go, and we've rarely left the room that'd been given to us.

"Whipped.. You know it's time.. It's time for us to leave the sanctuary. I've been gone for too long, and I know it'll only make you more anxious to be here alone.."

Hearing him say that only makes me want to cry. I don't want to leave him so soon! We've only had each other for such a short time!

"I don't want to leave you either, but I have no choice. I owe him."

I held onto his arm, why did he have to leave so soon? Did he return just because I went missing? I... don't want him to leave again, at that moment, I began to cry, silent tears as I didn't have the ability to tell him anything anymore, the only downside to the blessing from Earl Grey...

I eventually pull him in for a hug, sobbing into his armor, why.. it was too soon to be separated again...

I tried to ask him why can't I join him, but when I get distressed like this, I struggle a lot..

"I wish I could take you, Whipped. I would do anything to bring you with me.. But where I go, it isn't safe for those who can't voice an opinion..."

I don't understand what's so dangerous about it, but he won't let me go with him for my own safety.. I want to be mad, but I can't. I'm just a sobbing mess as he holds me close.. He's on the verge of tears too.

It's too soon to go.. I don't want him to go..

Eventually I let go.. taking the bracelet off of my wrist and giving it to him, just so he can remember me when he's gone.

A smile despite the tears, I love him and won't forget him, trying to tell him that I love him.

"I love you too, Whipped.. I promise, we will see each other again, and we won't go our separate ways."

[Mute Ballerino, Whipped Cream is now unavailable for asks.]

[Voluntary Investigator, Dark Choco is now unavailable for asks.]

[penny-nichols]

Aura Blackquill and the Terrible Horrible No-Good Very Bad Day

[zaynesplushiekiller]

ive been Going Through It (tm) recently so can i request some comfort from antonio

hi! i hope this helps you feel better (✯ᴗ✯) i enjoyed writing this. also @hhonk said;

I've included: Antonio Paganini

✿✿

today was bad. a no good, terrible, horrible, very bad day.

it was so easily seen on your face, the exhaustion that had once been a discomfort, now displayed so carelessly on your skin. anyone with eyes and a brain would be able to tell.

the weariness, ultimate dread, all of it was setting in. no matter what had happened, it had torn you down with such brute strength. this time, you needed some help to get back up.

antonio had always tried to make you feel better. unfortunately, the famed violinist is not always the best at comforting people. even when he cared so much about you, it was harder for him to see what you needed and when you needed it.

maybe a hug, or a forehead kiss, anything like that, he just needed a push or tug in the right direction some times.

after all, being locked up for so long, with the only contact he had being with inescapable demons, he forgot how to care for others.

however, humans have a universal love for one thing. music. the one thing antonio treasures above all else (except you, of course!)

he seldom use his hands for playing the violin, after the sentience of his hair, it became less of a necessity. but when he played for you, at least this time, he made a note to do so with his hands. it feels more real, if only just for him.

"tesoro, let me soothe you with my favorite song." he half whispers, his hands moving steadily to his bow and violin.

antonio could be a god of playing the violin. his music is flawless, so beautifully perfect. you could think apollo himself would applaud it. this must've been the reason for his undying success.

the song was short, but the melody was soft, it reminded you of a song one would play at a wedding. he had told you the name of the song, "it's Pachelbel's 'Canon in D'. a lovely piece, for my lovely tesoro."

you didn't really have any idea what that meant, but the piece was lovely nonetheless!

when he was done playing, you applauded him greatly. but to your surprise, he shushed you instantaneously. his hands were coarse, as he pressed a finger to your lips.

"an applause is not needed for me, you're the one who needs to be applauded! you've done so well today, and I'm so proud of you." his voice is warm, like honey. his praise falls on deaf ears as you move into hug him.

when you embrace one another, it seems like it lasts centuries. his aura is lovingly intoxicating, as he hugs you tighter than ever before. he wants you to know how he would never let you go. whether or not you had a bad day.

when you finally pull away, he kisses your forehead as well, to add to the effect. his lips, similar to his touch, can be coarse. it's hard to change this, seeing as he's no longer alive.

you keep him alive, passionately burning the way he hopes the future does to you. keeping the flame that loves you oh so bright, for a soft eternity.

[klonoadreams]

...oh god I remember the Unovan one and the chaos that resulted from us talking about it please spread the word of the poor SIOC, the one who suffers from irrational hatred from Pokémon, except for a random Sigilyph, including their starter Sewaddle, and who has N convinced that if there is anyone that shouldn't he around Pokémon it's them for their own personal safety.

gjrjugilf

okay, so let's get this straight, because this poor, poor bitch was created due to the many nuzlockes set in the Unova region that I watched on YouTube while I was suffering from a sinus infection in May.

gist of it is

Tumblr has unleashed me from the confines of the previous image limit.

Anyways, Professor Juniper found this poor bastard in the Pinwheel Forest while doing fieldwork. Girl was going through it, suffering from a severe Venipede poisoning...which Juniper thinks induced memory loss.

That's the explanation they're going with until the "memory loss" overstays its welcome, in which everyone (including the Nurse Joy that looked over this kid) assumes they're a runaway, since she had no Pokemon on her and they can't really find anything on her. (basically, everyone just goes hush hush for her own safety - JUST IN CASE)

Goes by Sawyer, because Monster Camp's fuckubus, Sawyer, is VERY gender.

the REAL backstory is that original Sawyer (real name currently unknown) was raised within Team Plasma.

Think Whitley/Whi-two from Pokemon Adventures.

of course, SI OC Sawyer doesn't know about that, because she literally JUST woke up in a way. And to go further into it, she actually DID reincarnate, just she was dormant until the Venipede poisoning brought her back in. So for a good long while, she ALWAYS felt something was off while growing up in Team Plasma, and as a result, always ended up getting punished for it.

Eventually, she saw an opening and took it, but oop - Pinwheel Forest has Venipede AND...WELL...she was certainly there for a while before Juniper found her.

So Sawyer's starter is a Sewaddle that FUCKING hates her. The only reason Sewaddle sticks around is because it's free food and transportation (especially once she evolves). Too add to Sawyer's situation, Sewaddle often ruins her clothes AND absolutely fucking HATES going into the Poke Ball. So Sawyer has to carry her around.

I call this "sawyer and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad trainer experience"

Featuring a Sigilyph that often stares down at her but has never once harmed her, and a Golurk that is one BUENOS DIAS MANDY away from breaking Sawyer's bones.

For the time being, Sawyer has this "aura" to her that makes a good majority of Pokemon hostile towards her - even the Nurse Joy's Audino/Chansey/whatever fucking HISSES at her. It wears off with time, and it's effectively a side effect to the SI OC's awakening creating a dissonance within the body. So until that happens, IT'S ON SIGHT.

(created using this picrew)

Sawyer post Juniper encounter, after she's been cleaned up. gets hurt often and has a current boyish appearance since she effectively got clothes from Touya (I refuse to use Hilbert - he will always be Black or Touya to me).

N often runs into her and accidentally saves her from hostile Pokemon encounter. Touya is effectively the MC, but he's just doing his own thing, so Sawyer kinda shifts into MC status without meaning to.

All because N grows genuinely concerned for her wellbeing after too many hostile Pokemon encounters. And despite the fact that her Sewaddle is on sight, it EVENTUALLY does evolve into a Leavanny.

"Why do you stay, even though they hurt you?"

"Honestly? I don't know... I just...can't think of a day without them in my life."

Calling this fic, With Friends Like These. :V

[inkykeiji]

you be the match, i will be your fuse

fluffy anon said: dabi coming home after an absolutely horrid day at work and just needing to be absolutely BABIED by reader (i’m talking cuddling in bed, taking a bath with him and washing his hair then getting out just rubbing his back as he sleeps with his head on your chest)

genre: angst + fluff, laced with just a hint of smut (like two sentences)

notes: aaaah happy birthday dabi!!! this has absolutely nothing to do with your birthday but eeee ily | title cred: sure thing by miguel

warnings: 18+, implied/mentioned death of a child, one instance of implied past physical abuse, self-destructive behaviour + coping mechanisms, co-dependent toxic relationship

words: 3.5k

It’s thundering the day it happens, ferocious growls that rumble through your apartment—a tiny, quaint space you share with Dabi, full of faulty appliances and cracked linoleum—rolling, fluffy grey clouds blanketing the entire sky, swollen with restrained rain droplets as a storm brews within them. Little fingers idly toy with the yellowed pages of your worn pulp fiction novel, flipping through them and bending corners as your eyes search the angry sky, chewing on your cheek.

Dabi should’ve been home by now. It’s not like him to be late without calling, without letting his babygirl know what’s going on—he knows the way you worry, the way you overthink yourself into a frenzy, the way you’re so clingy and needy, teases you about it incessantly and tells you he thinks it’s cute—and a deep sense of dread takes root in the pit of your stomach, dark and bitter and unfurling, quickly spreading throughout the cavity of your chest.

His phone must be off—no, it’s never off, he doesn’t do that anymore, not since you stumbled into his life—his phone must be dead, your repeated calls growing increasingly frequent and urgent every time you’re greeted with the drone of his automatic voicemail.

Something’s wrong, horribly so.

It’s evident the moment he arrives home, scratched brass doorknob slamming against the wall, deepening the crater its left from past incidents of a similar manner.

It infects the air around him, hanging heavy and thick, its dense presence nearly suffocating. His shoulders slump under the pressure, the weight of whatever he’s carrying practically crushing, as he drags his crimson splattered boots through the front door, soles scraping against the cheap hardwood, bringing the putrid scent of charred flesh with him—his or someone else’s, you don’t know.

You swear you can almost see it, this—this thing, this aura, enveloping him in its haughty embrace as his chest heaves under a deep, controlled breath, pausing in the foyer as the door shuts behind him.

Bare feet pad against the floor, your legs moving without your explicit permission, drawn towards him in an almost instinctual manner, the desire to care for, to comfort, burning as it bubbles up in your chest, mixing with that intense sense of trepidation and invading your veins.

He permits you to wrap your arms around his torso as you nuzzle against him, body going rigid for a moment, still and stiff as marble, before he exhales again, melting into your embrace.

Several questions race through your mind at such a speed that they crash and clash together, becoming nothing more than incoherent jumbled lettering, tiny fingers curling in the fabric of his clothing as you try to pull him closer, nonsensical babbling spilling from your lips. A vacant ghost of a chuckle leaves his lips, nothing more than a simple huff of breath, and he squeezes you closer.

“Bad day?” the words are mumbled against his dirty t-shirt, what was once a pristine white now tarnished with ash and blood. You don’t get a response—you don’t expect one.

He doesn’t talk much, not on days like this.

He doesn’t need to.

Bad days—really bad, terrible, awful days such as this one—are surprisingly rare with Dabi. Sure, he’s had the typical ‘bad’ day before, where someone pisses him off, or he gets into a fight with his superior, but those bad days usually require railing you into your creaky, springy king-sized mattress until you’ve forgotten everything but his name and he’s fucked all of the anger and hatred out of his body.

They are not like this one. No, on days such as this, on days where he’s killed someone he deems to be innocent, someone who—like him—is a victim of heroism, he’s quiet, distant, unpredictable, bordering on unhinged, and you’ve learned to tread with extreme discretion.

But you don’t push, either, resolving to communicate through gentle touches, soft fingertips that run along his tense, broad shoulders and press into the hard coiled muscles, tender fingers that thread through inky tufts of hair, sapphire eyes closing as he hums and leans into the motion like a cat.

It’s only for a second, though, just a moment of weakness before he’s breaking out of your embrace, pushing past you and clearing his throat, glass door to the balcony sliding shut a moment later. 

You don’t follow. You know better than that now, a phantom sting in your cheek serving as a reminder, the resounding sharp sound of glass shattering as it’s hurled at the floor slicing through your mind with such viciousness it makes you wince. 

Instead, you sit. And you wait. Like you’re supposed to, like a good little girl, a book clutched between your quivering hands, unblinking eyes staring at the words on the page, nothing but incomprehensible symbols—lines and lines of black ink in meaningless shapes—as scorching sapphire loops through your mind.

Be a good girl, give him space, let him come to you. Be a good girl, give him space, let him come to you. Be a good girl. Give him space. Let him come to you.

It’s standard procedure, really.

And eventually, he does, comes back inside with an empty bottle of whiskey clutched in a hand, along with a crumpled package of cigarettes. You don’t know how long it’s been, muscles sore and joints aching from sitting in the same position for so long, eyes dry from staring at the same page, barely moving, barely breathing. His hand is bleeding, knuckles bruised and gleaming with sticky scarlet that’s still fresh and flowing, but it could be worse. It has been worse.

The harsh clink of the bottle against the kitchen counter makes you flinch, and he sighs, heavy and full of derision, eyes flicking up to glare at your side profile.

“I can hear you thinking,”

“You’re filthy, baby,” the words tumble past your lips, uncontrollable, involuntary, almost reflexive in your response, eyes snapping to his face and voice whiny, voice pleading. “Take a bath with me,”

And you can see it—can see it in the dark cobalt of his irises, what he needs, the very thing he’s fighting himself on, the very thing he’s fighting so hard against. Always so stubborn, so reluctant, so cautious.

Because, fuck, he used to be able to resist it, this pathetic ache for comfort—something that’s only managed to grow in your presence, that’s shifted and morphed from a dull smoldering to a raging fire, an insatiable longing for your fingers in his hair and your breath on his skin and your voice against his ear—a skill he’d been constructing, developing, perfecting, since he was thirteen years old. A skill you succeeded in shattering in the matter of a few measly months.

Because you—you’re different. And he hates it sometimes, he swears to the good Lord he does, but hating it doesn’t make it any less true. You break him down, you make him weak, you make him want, and the longer he spends around you, the more he finds that he doesn’t fucking care. And that’s irritating, that’s exciting, that’s terrifying, that’s new. 

Fury blisters his chest, his lungs, his throat as he holds your stare, jaw clenching twice. But you don’t falter, not like the rest of them, not like anyone else—everyone else. You never falter, always so eager to see the good in him, a snort leaving his nose at the thought. The good in him. Is there any good left in him? Was there ever any good in him in the first place? Are you the good in him, now? Does he care?

And he’s not sure he’ll ever understand it, but he’s beginning to realize that, maybe, he doesn’t have to. 

Maybe, it doesn’t matter. Maybe, it’s okay, if you love him, if he loves you.

Maybe.

It’s too much, and he can feel frustration stinging his eyes, long delicate eyelashes fluttering as he quickly blinks it away. Spears, sharp and cold, splinter your chest at the sight, but you know if you begin crying too, you’ll lose him. You know that if you begin showing what he considers weakness, he’ll pull away, even though this is what he so clearly needs most. 

So you steel yourself, swallowing hard against the pain collecting in your throat, will the tears away and force your body to stay calm, approaching him slowly as if he’s some sort of feral animal prone to lashing out. 

Apprehension is clear in his azure eyes, head tilting a little as they narrow, regarding you with skepticism, with suspicion. 

It’s bold, and dangerous, and—as far as Dabi’s concerned—fucking stupid, but you don’t care, determined to prove to him that you aren’t going anywhere regardless of how many tantrums he throws, no matter how many times he hurts you in his anguish. It’s almost desperate, really, this sheer need to prove to him that you aren’t scared of him, that irrespective of how soft he seems to think you are, you are strong, even if it’s in ways he could never understand, that you can be strong for him, when he needs it, that he can borrow some of your strength, if he needs to.

And that—that’s why he loves you. It hits him hard, as this realization always does, kicks him in the chest and knocks the breath out of him every time, and he’s not sure he’ll ever get used to it.

A tiny hand hangs in the air between the two of you, Dabi regarding the offer with a wary hesitance. Wiggling fingers attempt to entice him, earning a tiny smirk—a massive victory—as sapphire flits up to gaze at you through thick lashes, an eyebrow raised.

You match his expression, quirking an eyebrow of your own and nodding at your hand, speaking a moment later.

“Let me in, baby,” the words are barely above a whisper, but they’re so raw, filled with so much unadulterated love it hurts, pure and real and everything he’s never had before. “Let me help,”

And, God, it’s fucking overwhelming, how badly he wishes to give in to this unfamiliar compassion, how desperately he desires your affection, despite the malicious voice echoing off the walls of his skull, berating him for being so pathetic, so weak, so vulnerable.

But the urge to accept, to seek out consolation in you, wins, just as it always does, that nasty voice reverberating in his mind silenced the very instant his skin touches yours.

You let him make the last move, allow him to make that final decision entirely on his own accord, to grasp your hand in his, warm and rough, and pull you towards him, crushing you against his chest as he buries his face in your hair, eyes squeezed shut against that annoying burn of tears, chest stuttered with a hitched breath, air that gets caught in his throat as he chokes on the words he wants to say.

But he doesn’t need to say them. You already know.

“Come,” you murmur to him, fingers threading through the tufts of hair at the nape of his neck. “Let’s take a bath,”

     ✰          ✰          ✰

The bathwater stings your skin, just a hint too hot to be comfortable, but you say nothing as you settle onto his lap in the cramped little tub, encompassed by frothy bubbles, dainty scent of orange citrus tickling your nose.

Heated fingertips press into your hips as he finds comfort the only way he knows how to, in your precious little whimpers and broken moans of his name as he bounces you on his cock, so vigorously you’re positive you can feel him in your tummy, the pads of his fingers searing his prints into your skin.

It’s heady, it’s intoxicating, it’s addicting, heightened emotions both pleasant and unpleasant swirling together with the symphony of your cries and his grunts as the water you’re submerged in begins to bubble and boil, to crack and pop, sudsy liquid sloshing over the side of the tiny tub as he forces you to ride him, faster and faster and faster until you’re whining and convulsing around him, and he’s filling you with thick cum, cock throbbing aggressively as he spurts load after load into you.

After, as he leans back against the cold tile, residual droplets sizzling into steam as his heated skin touches them. Gentle fingers card between his hair, water cascading through onyx strands as it pours over his head from a worn plastic cup—a faded Darth Vader staring back at you as you rhythmically repeat your actions until the tresses stick to his forehead and cheeks, drenched and shining in the low light of the washroom.

Heavy lids obscure the most brilliant sapphire from you as shampoo is massaged into his scalp, slow and unhurried and thorough, every stroke, every comb through inky clumps easing the turmoil in his mind bit by bit, calming the storm that’s been raging inside of him for hours now. Deep hums rumble in his chest as your fingers continue their ministrations, your eyes trained on your motions. And you can feel it, the tension dissipating from his body with each circle of foam rubbed into his soft hair, shoulders finally beginning to relax as he subconsciously nuzzles into your touch, following it, longing for it, aching for more.

He shifts then, after you’ve rinsed the soap from his hair, manhandling you into a position between his thighs, bare chest pressed tightly against your back. You work hard to keep your body from tensing, forcing your breathing to stay even, to stay calm as you brace yourself for what’s coming next.

“He was eleven,” he says after several long moments of silence, voice low and trembling, hoarse and heavy with remorse. “This time.”

This time. That’s the third innocent civilian—innocent by his standards, at least—this month.

That’s the first time it’s ever been a child.

You don’t turn around to look at him, not yet—he isn’t finished—simply opting to lace your fingers through his and bring your joined hands to your lips, kissing each wounded knuckle, crude staples catching in the dim warm light of the tiny bathroom. 

You want to tell him it wasn’t his fault, even though it was. You want to tell him anything that’ll make him feel better, that’ll absolve the guilt so evidently gnawing away at his insides, even though you know there’s nothing you can say.

“What are—I don’t even—” his voice breaks and you feel his chest stutter against your back, feel him exhale harshly, breath cool on your damp shoulder, feel him swallow thickly as he tries again. Because as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, as much as he would never admit it, you know he needs release this from the confines of his mind—you know you’re the only person who can offer him such an outlet. “Why the fuck were there kids there in the first place? Huh? They shouldn’t—They shouldn’t have been there,”

Orphans are everywhere in this city, you murmur, lips moving against his rough skin. He knows. Orphans of heroes. He knows.

“I’m gonna kill Shigaraki, I swear to Christ. Sending us to a—a fucking place infested with fucking ch-children,” his fingers curl around yours, hand beginning to shake as it clutches you like a lifeline, like that guilt will devour him from the inside out, like he’ll disintegrate into nothingness, if he doesn’t. “I bet you he fucking knew—nah, I-I’m positive he did. Asshole only cares about himself, though. Doesn’t matter that—that the cause we’re supposed to be fighting for affects these stupid kids,”

You’re right, love.

The words leave your lips in a gentle breath, leaning your head back against his collarbone and staring up at him. Cobalt eyes stay trained on the cracked tile wall, jaw methodically clenching as his molars grind together, an attempt to quell the trembling of his chin, exhaling hard harsh breaths through flared nostrils.

“Whatever,” he huffs, voice still wavering and not nearly as self-assured as he wishes. “Th-That brat shouldn’t have been there in the first place,”

He shouldn’t have, you agree, finally squirming in his grasp, turning to face him, to straddle his hips again in the tight space of the tub. And he welcomes your affections readily this time, arms encircling your waist as he holds you tightly to him, blunt nails digging purple-tinged crescents into your flesh as he shoves his face against your neck, finally allowing those emotions he’s been fighting to leak from his eyes and absorb into your skin.

Little palms rub soothing circles into his back as he shudders against you, allowing him to empty his soul onto you as soft lips press chaste kisses to his damp hair, waiting until there’s nothing left, until his eyes are drained, azure glassy and bloodshot, nose twitching and red.

And after he’s done, when he finally pulls back, scrubbing aggressively at his nose as tiny sniffles hitch in his chest, gentle fingers begin to lather soap into his skin, washing away the dirt and grime and blood from the day. Fingertips carefully trace along the metal sutures decorating his body with immeasurable adoration, you whispering all of the things he so desperately needs to hear that he’d never dare to ask for, complimented by the tender touches that cleanse his soul with their unconditional love.

He’s bigger than you are, but that doesn’t stop you from trying to wrap him in a fluffy white towel, using another in an attempt to dry his hair as your hands move in shaggy motions, heart soaring in your chest when you pull a soft laugh from his lips, wet and wobbly and croaky, but a laugh nonetheless.

A mutual silence, gentle and comforting and stuffed full of an immense love, a special kind of love, a love words do not exist to explain, swathes your bodies as he allows you to dress him, pulling a ratty old band tee over his head and a pair of plaid PJ pants up his legs.

“You always look so cute in my clothes,” he rasps from his spot perched on the edge of the bed, glowing crystal eyes watching as you pull one of his t-shirts over your naked body.

A genuine bubble of laughter erupts from your throat as you climb into bed with him, immediately allowing him to latch onto you, to pull you towards him, to hold you close like his own personal plushie.

“Sleep,” you murmur as the two of you settle into a comfortable position, limbs tangled together, his head resting on your chest, fingers threading through his hair and then tracing down his neck, his back. “And then I’ll make you ramen,”

“The spicy kind?”

“Of course,”

I love you.

“Extra spicy?”

Laughing again, you feel his lips curve into a smile against your skin, grip around your torso tightening. “Extra spicy. Now, rest,”

More than anything else.

“With the little fish cakes?”

“Your favourite little fish cakes,”

More than words could ever tell you.

“And the pork belly?”

“And the pork belly,” you feel his chest rise with an inhale, hastily adding, “And those little cream puffs you love so much, from that dingy convenience store downstairs, for dessert. Now sleep, baby,”

He laughs, even though his vision is blurring, even though it comes out more strangled than anything else, because he doesn’t want to cry again, because his chest stings and aches and swells and warms, full of inexplicable emotions, feels like it’s going to fucking burst as it chokes and reinvigorates him all at once, and—God, he loves you, he loves you, he loves you.

Because even though he’s terrified beyond belief, he’s willing to try—just for you, only for you—as he continually realizes with each passing day that he isn’t sure what the fuck he’d do without you, now. Because you’re too entangled up in his life, too deeply embedded in his very soul, for him to ever remove you, now. Because as petrifying and unfamiliar as it is, he doesn’t want to, now.

Because even though he’s broken, irrevocably so, and you can’t fix him, won’t fix him, you’ll still stay, to hold those pieces so gently, so tenderly in your hands, you’ll still protect those fragments and keep them from shattering further, you’ll still give them the affection and devotion they need, the affection and devotion they deserve. Because you love every part of him, even the bad ones, even the shards with jagged edges that cut into the soft flesh of your palms every time you caress them.

Because you accept him wholeheartedly, flaws and all, and that’s—he’s never experienced anything like that before, this unlimited, unreserved, unquestioning love. And although he doesn’t know how to say this, isn’t sure he’ll ever be able to find the right words to communicate it, he’s beginning to learn that unfamiliar doesn’t always mean bad; that sometimes, it’s okay—it’s good—to be vulnerable. He’s beginning to learn that with you, in the warmth of your shitty little apartment, with the stove that only has two functioning burners and the fridge that’s perpetually too cold, he can be, without judgement, without fear, without trepidation.

Because you are his only salvation, and he wouldn’t trade this for the goddamn world.

[mochegato]

Even the Losers

Chapter 19

Thank you guys for your patience!  I took a week of vacation to focus on relaxing and catching up on this fic but I’m a wife and a mom so that’s the exact opposite of what happened.  But I’m back now.  I still won’t have daily updates, but it shouldn’t be weeks in between anymore.

Chapter 1     Chapter 18

Marinette looked up at the Wayne Enterprises building, craning her neck in an attempt to see all the way up.  This was only her second time seeing the building up close and it was no less intimidating the second time around.  There was nothing inherently intimidating about the building. It was large and imposing, but that was the only characteristic that would be considered intimidating.

It was more a feeling, an aura, she got from the name, the history, the expectations and obligations that hit her every time she saw the building.  Like something was weighing down on her for just being in its presence.  Something pushing her away and pulling her in at the same time. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, her eyes never once leaving the building’s façade.

She almost jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder.  “You sure you’re okay with this?” Max asked quietly.  “We don’t have to do this today.”

Marinette shook her head, her eyes still pinned to the building.  “Yes we do. I’ve pushed it off too long already. At this point, I’m getting favoritism by not getting lectured for it.”

Max looked around to make sure nobody was listening.  “If it helps, I don’t think M. Wayne is the type to confront you at work.”

Marinette scoffed and gave him a pointed look. “That is exactly the type of man he is. Confront in a public place where it is likely to create a scene if I say ‘no’ and ask me to speak with him in a more private venue.”

Max gave her a small sympathetic smile.  “Bad time to mention that you appear to have similar approaches to confronting people who are avoiding you?”

Marinette glowered at him, but only slightly.  He wasn’t wrong.  She was usually the one doing the avoiding, but if she had to confront someone who was proving elusive, such as when she had approached M. Fox the first time, it was an approach she would take.  Didn’t mean she liked it.  Either the tactic or the similarity in thinking process… or maybe she did like the similarity.  It was a link to him.  A subconscious, constant, unchanging connection to her biological father.

“I just mean to point out that if you do think alike, then you can anticipate his next moves and plan accordingly.  You can use it to your advantage.  You’re Harry Potter to his Voldemort,” Max offered with a supportive smile.

Marinette blinked a few times before turning to him wide eyed.  “Did you just compare your boss, my biological father, to Voldemort?”

Max’s eyes widened in realization.  “I… no… I… what I meant…”  

He was cut off by Marinette’s laughter.  It took several minutes for the laughter, loud enough to draw the attention and gawking of employees passing them by as they made their way into work, to die down enough for her to eke out words.  “First a snake, now Voldemort.  The man cannot get a break.”  She wiped away the laughing tears from her eyes.  “At least nobody’s compared him to Umbridge yet, so there’s that.”

She finally settled enough to pat Max on the back, her expression still amused, a wide smile on her lips.  “Thank you, Max.  I’ll consider that.”  She turned back to the building and her bright smile dulled until it disappeared.

Max frowned at the change.  He was very familiar with Marinette’s anxiety, it was an integral part of who she was.  It had been since he first met her.  But he had yet to figure out how to get her out of it.  Alya and Adrien were always so good at getting her out of her head. What would they do?  Max stared at her while he tried to remember how Adrien and Alya responded to Marinette’s anxiety spirals.

They had already reached the front steps before he decided however they would respond that wasn’t him.  He pointed out facts then let people make their decisions based on the information. Then they might, or if it were Kim definitely would, make a stupid choice, but at least they had the information beforehand.  “If it helps, M. Wayne used to walk through the department twice a day.  But the last few days he’s only seen him in the afternoon, so I don’t think he will be there this morning.”

Marinette looked down, tapping her fingers together, avoiding his eyes.  She closed her eyes and mentally berated herself.  Why was she still such a coward?  Avoiding her problems as though that had ever made things better for her. Avoiding Luka after they broke up just made him feel terrible and made her feel like a horrible person.  And here she was doing the same thing, like she hadn’t learned a damn thing.  She needed to talk to M. Wayne eventually, she knew that, she just didn’t know what to say or how to make it better yet.

She finally looked up guiltily at Max.  “I’m sorry.  I’m just not ready to see him yet, I haven’t figured out what I want to say, so that does help, knowing I still have time.”  She let out a deep breath and squared her shoulders before making her way to the front door.

They slowly made their way to the elevator, focusing on each other and their path to the elevators, pretending like they didn’t see the people staring at her and whispering to each other.  Once they were alone on the elevator, nobody to overhear their conversation, Max spoke up.  “Maybe,” Max started quietly, “maybe, you don’t need to know what you want to say.  Maybe you should let him say what he wants to say and go from there.”

He looked up at Marinette, a slight furrow in his brow.  “From what you and Adrien said, it sounds like he may have some questions or may want to apologize.  You had the last word, perhaps it would be most appropriate and in spirit of the rules of conversation to allow him the first in the next conversation.”

Marinette nodded at his reasoning.  He was right.  M. Wayne likely had a lot of questions and she hadn’t exactly let him have a say in their last conversation, perhaps it was only fair to allow him to have his say this time.  She gave him a resolute nod and stood up straighter.  “You’re right, Max.  I should let him decide the next steps.  I decided the last ones.”

Max turned and shook his head.  “No.  That is not what I am saying.”  He looked her in the eyes for a moment before looking away and fixing his glasses.  “What I meant to insinuate is it doesn’t have to all be on you.  You don’t have to take responsibility for everything.  There are two people in the conversation, in the relationship.  You don’t have to take responsibility for moving either forward. He is responsible as well.  You shouldn’t take it all on your shoulders.”

Marinette opened her mouth to say something but closed it quickly, not entirely sure what she wanted to say to that.  She was saved from having to respond by the elevator doors opening.  She stepped off and turned to Max with a plastered on smile.  “Ready?”

Max looked down into his bag and raised his eyebrows at Markov as he stepped off the elevator.  Markov displayed down-turned eyes and a frown.  “Right, well,” Max started, much too loudly.  He stood up tall and adjusted his glasses as Markov flew up next to him.  “I promised to show you around the department.  Come on, they’ve made some great progress.  You should see the plans.  You might have insights on the different directions we’ve been considering.”

The tour was short, it wasn’t a large department, but extremely enlightening.  They were already making great progress.  There was a mountain of failed prototypes with in depth analytic reports on their development and why they failed, ways to change it for the next attempt.  There weren’t many employees in the department and they all smiled at Max and Markov as they passed and gave friendly nods. It seemed like nobody was upset that their former head of the department had been ousted and had welcomed Max with open arms.

“Ms. Dupain Cheng,” Lucius called out, making his way off the elevator and toward her and Max.  He smiled warmly at Marinette and clasped her hand between his to shake it.  “It’s been too long.”

Marinette chuckled and leaned up to kiss his cheek. “It’s been like three days since we talked.”

Lucius grinned.  His eyes gleamed with a mischievous glint that reminded her of the sweet older men who would come into the bakery and “flirt” innocently with her maman and her when she was older but then wax poetic about their wives, their entire faces brightening when their wives joined them. “Like I said, too long.” He chuckled along with Marinette and backed up a step.  “Thank you for meeting me here.  I trust Mr. Kante and Markov showed you around the department and pointed out your office.”

“They have,” Marinette looked at Max and Markov with a smile.  “It looks like they’re in good hands.  I don’t think I’ve seen Max this giddy since he got a tour of CERN.”

“That is great to hear.  And did he run over the different options we’ve been discussing?” Lucius motioned toward the white board and neatly stacked piles of reports on the tables next to the board.

“He did,” Marinette assured him, her face turning serious as she looked at the piles of reports.

“Very briefly,” Max added.

Marinette kept her eyes focused on the whiteboard, looking over the bullet points of their conversations.  “They are very ambitious plans.  It will certainly be a challenge for designing and a lot to consider.”

“In any way in particular?” Lucius prompted.

Marinette considered his question for a few moments and looked between Max and Lucius.  Max nodded to her.  She nodded back.  “If you're talking about changing the rigidity of the fabric, then I’ll need to consider how that will affect the shape.  If I have it molded to a person's body when it's soft, when it gets stiff it won’t bend the same way, so it’ll lose that shape. I’d have to figure out how to make it still work.  

“We should really discuss intentions for the clothes so I can design appropriately and we can make sure there is a market for the clothes.”  Lucius looked at her curiously.  “How large of a difference are you thinking?  Because the larger the difference, the more difficult to design, but also to wear.  Unless you have some way that you're keeping it in shape regardless of how rigid it is. So you need to figure out if that is an important issue for you or not.  Also, thread.”

“Thread?”  Max blinked a few times

“Thread,” Marinette repeated with a curt nod.  “The thread I use on say silk is a lot more delicate than the thread I use on jeans or leather.  Those materials are stiffer and harder and need thicker thread to hold them.  But I can't use thicker thread on things like silk because it weighs the fabric down too much and ruins the shape, so you need to think about the thread.  It needs to be something that can work with delicate fabric but will still hold without breaking when the fabric changes.

“Also color.  If you are going to change the fabric color, then the thread will likely have to change as well.”  She looked between the two men.  Max was staring toward the white board with the algorithms on it in contemplation. Lucius pursed his lips as he looked at the desk.  Marinette rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet.  “But that’s just off the top of my head.  I can come up with more insightful once I’ve had more time to think.”

“That is quite a lot to consider,” Lucius nodded, finally looking back at her.  “Those are important points we hadn’t yet considered but will have to be incorporated immediately.  Thank you. I would very much like to discuss this further, but with more of the project involved and give you time to review some materials.  Would you be available on Monday?  That should give us and you time to prepare to discuss the options.”

Marinette frowned and pulled out her phone to see her calendar.  “That should work.”  She scoffed and waved her phone helplessly.  “I pull this out like I’ve been putting anything in my calendar on it.  We’re in Metropolis this weekend.  I should be back by Monday.”

“Monday it is,” Lucius agreed.  “Now that that is settled, I’d like to talk about logistics, setup, and ask a few questions up in my office.”  

Marinette’s smile immediately dropped.  She froze, her eyes widening.  “Oh… um…  That sounds…”

Lucius looked around the room to see who was looking their way and who might be listening in.  He lowered his voice until only she and Markov could her and leaned slightly closer.  “Mr. Wayne hasn’t been in before noon the last few days.  I happen to know he has asked his PA to reschedule his morning appointments for today as well.”  He shrugged and leaned back, keeping his voice low.  “No real importance to that information just that there’s nobody up there with whom I can drink tea and it is about tea time for me.”

Marinette let out a small breath and gave him a grateful smile.  “Thank you. I’d love tea.”

Lucius motioned toward the elevators.  “Shall we?”  He fell into step beside her.  “We assume you won’t spend much time in your office, but it is fully equipped in case you would like to use it or split your time.”

“Thank you,” Marinette nodded lightly.  “I haven’t decided what I want to do yet.” She looked up at him uncertainly. “Or what the contract would allow.”

Lucius grinned as he walked off the elevator on the executive floor.  “It is a partnership with a designer, not employment.  You are working with us, not for us.  As long as we can contact you and get the fabric to you, we will allow whatever you need, Ms. Dupain Cheng.”  He nodded to Bruce’s PA.

“Mr. Fox,” Bruce’s PA called out.  “I wanted to double check that the new time works for your meeting today with Mr. Wayne.”

“Yes, Mr. Cortland.  The new time is fine.  I’ll be in my office for a bit.  Can you send someone to bring in some tea for us please?”  Mr. Cortland nodded and sat back down, picking up the phone to make the arrangements.  Lucius opened his office door and motioned for Marinette to enter.  After she had taken a seat at the small conference room Lucius watched her with a concerned look for a few seconds.  “So is the trip to Metropolis for business or pleasure?”

“A bit of both,” she smiled at him.  “Metropolis is one of the places we’re considering moving to so we want to look around and see if it’s some place we would like to live. Really, it’s just touring around the city.”

“You’re still deciding on where you want to live then,” he noted.

Marinette started to respond but paused when a man came in with a tray with a tea kettle and cups.  She thanked him and waited until he’d left before speaking more about her plans.  “We’re still thinking, yes.  We’re not extremely excited to live in New York.  Honestly, I think if we like Metropolis well enough this weekend, we might make the decision.  Assuming Adrien gets offered the position he applied for, which I am.”

Lucius nodded as he took a sip of tea.  He quirked his head to the side as he considered her answer.  “Metropolis is certainly more manageable than other options, workwise, I mean.  We could still have some in person meetings. Getting fabric to you would definitely be easier than say Paris, but we can push off making a decision on the logistics on that.  Until then, let’s make sure you have access to the network.  We’ll talk to Mr. Cortland about it when we’re done with our tea.”

Marinette smiled at him and took a sip of her tea. Lucius watched her for a moment, drinking more of his tea as well.  “You know,” he started slowly, “Metropolis is close enough, you could choose to live between there and Gotham and be close enough for both of you to commute, him to Metropolis and you to Gotham… if you wanted to base your company here.”

Marinette froze momentarily, her lips perched on the edge of her teacup.  She set the cup back down without taking a drink.  She stared at drink for a few seconds before shaking her head.  “I don’t think basing my operation in Gotham is a good idea,” she said quietly.  She looked up at him with a smile and immediately looked away.  The smile was supposed to be confident, quirky, not shaky. She took a moment to breathe and refocus.

“I’m trying to build my own brand without depending on M. Wayne.  I’m going to face enough criticism and skepticism as it is without setting up my company ten feet from his.”  She looked back at Lucius with a steely resolve.  “I’ll finish my contract to the best of my ability.  I’ll work with you in the future, not doing so would be business suicide, but I think a little bit of space might be good… for us both.”

Lucius gave her an understanding look.  He knew something had happened.  There was a reason Bruce was no longer coming in in the mornings and looked like Tim after a research bender when he finally did come in, like he had been up all night protecting someone.  But he had also seen Tim’s reactions to him, the disappointed, frustrated, annoyed looks and passive aggressive comments about communication. All of which means Bruce was brooding and not talking to Marinette about it.

He swirled the tea in his cup.  “You know, Bruce takes protecting those around him very seriously.  He’s lost so much and is terrified of losing more.  He’d give everything he has, everything he is, to protect someone he loves. But he also takes on all the guilt when he failed.”

Marinette sighed deeply and looked away, her eyes suddenly desolate.  “He told you about dinner,” she said quietly.

Lucius frowned at the implications of her statement. He’d guessed Bruce had started brooding because of the Riddler incident, but clearly there was something more going on. “No.  I didn’t know about dinner, I just know Bruce.  I know his guilty brooding.  I also know Tim and his disappointed anger at Bruce.”  He leaned in closer toward her conspiratorially despite her not looking at him, hoping it would still get a smile out of her.  “I’ve seen it a lot.”

He leaned back with a gentle smile.  “So I don’t know what happened, but I know Bruce feels like he failed you.  Which means he’s afraid of saying or doing something to make it worse, so he’s probably avoiding you, which is probably making it worse.”  He faced her with a frown.  “Because the worst thing in his mind is hurting you.”

Marinette continued staring at the cityscape outside the window and took a long sip of her tea.  “That’s an awfully proper and long winded way to say ‘he had a reason for being an asshole and you should excuse him for it.’”

“Well, I do strive to be proper,” Lucius chuckled mirthlessly.  “But I never said you should excuse him for it.  I suppose it's something that the rest of us have learned to accept about him.  We put up with it, but that doesn't mean you have to.”

“The problem is…” she quirked her lips as she sought the words to properly express her thoughts, “everyone keeps explaining why he acts the way he does as though that makes it okay, as though there’s some obligation on me because of it.  Like understanding it means I have to build a great relationship despite it.  But… there has to be trust somewhere in there too, doesn’t there?  Understanding, compassion, those are supposed to go both ways, aren’t they?  Everyone’s asking me to be more understanding, more forgiving, but nobody’s asking the same of him.  It isn’t supposed to be the job of the child to do all the work.”

“He does get asked to do that.  You don’t see it, but he is getting asked.  I assure you his other children are making their positions clear,” Lucius assured her softly.  “And I assure you he knows he isn’t doing what he should, but he is trying.”

Marinette scoffed.  “He’s shit at it.”  She took a long sip and watched some birds flying outside the window.

“I don’t disagree.”  Lucius fought keeping the amused tone out of his voice, but it was a hard fight.  “This whole situation is filled with everyone trying to do the right thing but failing… constantly, talking past each other, working past each other, sacrificing parts of yourselves thinking it will help, but it really just hurting everyone. It’s a comedy of errors.”

“Except it’s real life, and in real life it isn’t so funny,” Marinette whispered.  She stood up and moved to the window, crossing her arms over her chest protectively.

“No, it isn’t,” Lucius agreed softly.  He quietly rose up and stood next to her at the window, keeping his gaze focused outside the building.  “Real life is work.  Real life is hard.  Real life hurts.  Real life is less than ideal almost always.  This situation isn’t ideal, but it doesn’t have to be abysmal either. You can choose to make the best of it.”

“But what’s the best that this situation can be?” Her voice was so quiet Lucius almost didn’t hear it.

“That is up to you and Bruce to decide.”

“It’s not just us though, is it?” she noted quietly.

“This part is,” Lucius assured her.  “This part is just between you two.  Your relationship with your siblings is separate and you can work that part out with them.  One doesn’t have to affect the other.”  He chuckled lightly, his eyes unfocusing slightly as he remembered something.  “The other children have proved that well enough.”

She looked out to the skyline again, letting his words settle in, considering what they meant and if she believed them.  “How do you forget?  How do you move on?”

Lucius shook his head gently.  “Moving on isn’t about forgetting.  It’s about learning and adapting.”

Marinette finally looked over at him, her eyes pleading, looking more lost than he had seen her look before.  “But what’s my lesson?  What is it I’m supposed to learn here?”

Lucius’ lips turned up into a sympathetic smile. He laid a hand on her shoulder.  “I can’t answer that.”

She shook her head and looked out the window again. “Because the only thing I see so far is that I shouldn’t trust M. Wayne.  That I’m never going to be…” she sighed heavily and looked down.  She took another deep breath and looked back up.  “Weren’t there setup issues we had to resolve?”

Lucius stared at her for a few seconds, compassion shining in his eyes.  “Yes we do,” he nodded lightly allowing her to change the subject.  He patted her on the back and encouraged her toward the door. “Let’s get you in the system so you have access to the building and a secure email.  We’ll order a laptop for you too so you can access the documents on the network.”

“Mr. Cortland,” he called out.  “Can you get Ms. Dupain Cheng set up with a secure laptop with access to the network and the basic programs installed, please?  And request an email for her.”

“Of course, sir,” David nodded to Lucius and started typing.

“Did you say Dupain Cheng,” a new voice spoke up. Marinette picked up on the excitement and interest in his voice with extreme apprehension.  Marinette whipped around to the new voice.  She looked over to Lucius to see how he responded.  Her shoulders relaxed when she saw his easy smile.

“Mr. Dowd,” he held his hand out to him, “it’s good to see you again.”

“Yeah,” Mr. Dowd gave him a bright smile. Marinette stared at him curiously. He was about her age and was too excited and happy to be an employee.  Not that the Wayne Enterprises employees she’d come across so far hadn’t seemed happy or excited about their projects, but they had a professional demeanor that Mr. Dowd didn’t seem to share.  “It’s always good to see you.  How’s Luke?”  He looked between the two of them though his eyes lingered on Marinette as if waiting until it was polite to start talking with her.

Lucius chuckled.  “He’s doing well.  He is supposed to come visit next weekend.  I’d like to say it’s because of me, but I believe he has a date or two planned with Ms. Gordon.  But let me introduce you to Ms. Dupain Cheng.”  He motioned to Marinette.  “Mr. Dowd, this is Ms. Dupain Cheng.  Ms. Dupain Cheng, this is Mr. Dowd.”

Bernard rolled his eyes.  “Please call me Bernard.  I’m Tim’s boyfriend.  It’s really nice to meet you.  I’ve heard a lot of great things about you.”  He held his hand out to her.

Marinette immediately relaxed and shook it.  That explained the excitement and interest. It wasn’t a random person wanting a scoop on the Wayne family, it was someone wanting to get to know his boyfriend’s family.  “It’s really nice to meet you.  I didn’t even know Tim was dating.”  Her eyes widened immediately.  “Not that he doesn’t talk about you!  I just haven’t had the chance to really talk to him yet.”

Bernard smiled at her for a few seconds.  He shifted back and forth on his feet awkwardly. Marinette opened her mouth to tell him she had to get back to work when Bernard spoke up.  “Hey, Tim and I were going to get lunch in his office.  Want to join us?  We were just ordering from the cafeteria because he has a meeting scheduled in like an hour.  We can add something for you.”

Marinette looked over to Lucius anxiously.  Lucius smiled at her and nodded in understanding. “We don’t have much more to finish, just waiting for the laptop to arrive.  There’s no reason for you to sit around and wait.  Go ahead.”

Marinette’s eyes widened.  That wasn’t what she wanted him to understand!  That wasn’t what she was trying to communicate to him. She hadn’t had really talked to Tim and every time they were close he froze up or got so tense she swore he was going to give himself a headache.  Spending time with him and his boyfriend while he acted like everything was okay wasn’t going to end well for either one of them.  She narrowed her eyes at Lucius.  She honestly wasn’t sure if he misunderstood the source of her anxiety or if he knew what it was from the start and decided to ignore it.

Marinette turned to Bernard with a forced smile but it relaxed into a soft smile when she saw how excited he was to spend time with her. “That sounds really nice.  Thank you, Bernard.  Please call me Marinette.”

“Awesome, Marinette,” Bernard’s grin was a brilliant as Adrien’s and Marinette couldn’t suppress the giggle that came out.  He led her toward Tim’s office.  “By the end of the day, I’m going to get you to let me call you Mari.  That’s the new goal for the day.”

Marinette tried unsuccessfully to suppress a snort. “And what was the old goal?”

“Prove the Miraculous team in France are actually fae,” he answered with conviction.  He looked over at her, his face somehow becoming even brighter.  “Hey, you’re from Paris, right?  Maybe you can help answer some questions for me.  This is perfect.”

Marinette stared at him wide eyed, frozen in place until Bernard looped his arm around hers and gently pulled her toward Tim’s office. Marinette chuckled and shook her head. She needed to record this conversation. Alya was going to die laughing.

Chapter 20

Tags:

@maribat-bdbwm @jayjayspixiepop @redscarlet95 @alice-hazelwood @deathssilentapproach-blog @unoriginalmess @alyssadeliv @emotionalsupportginger @frieddonutsweets @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks @toodaloo-kangaroo @colorfulmongerpsychicranch @iloontjeboontje @wolf-for-life @maribatserver @aespades @prettylittlebutterflie @imarivers8  @ certainmuffinbagelcalzone @ritacrow-blog @unoriginalmess @demonicbusiness @kking13 @lady-bee-fechin @blur-of-colours @kittenmywaythrulife @kashlyn @loysydark @nerd-nowandforever

[wovenstarlight]

hello! perhaps this is very sudden and i apologise for that, but i stumbled upon ur ss-rank hyj au (the cached au) and i Really Like It!! if possible, i’d really like to hear more about how others would react!

also as a side note, you’re very good at writing!

WAHA THANK YOU!!!!! that's really nice to hear..... for you here's some Haeyeon's Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day, featuring a lot of personal headcanons about awakened people's auras because i'm a sucker for that trope and the fear aura thing is brought up like 1 time in canon and then dismissed and i Will Not Stand For That,

-

"…Maybe it was a ghost."

"Really. A ghost."

"What do you think it was, then?"

"I don't— Oh, I don't know. Um, an earthquake?"

"An earthquake. Really. With no actual earth-quaking?"

"Maybe it was a really weak earthquake. But you’ve heard the stories, right? Animals getting scared and running away right before—"

"Sure, but there’s no way this was an earthquake."

"There’s no way it was a ghost—"

"I am leaving," Simyeong says loudly, "to go meet the guild leader. I hope that by the time I return, the team and raid applications for the next month will have been appropriately assigned to the department."

The Lee twins make identical choking sounds. Minho recovers first, calling "Yes, sir!" in a terrible, strangled approximation of his usual brisk tone. Yoonji, meanwhile, doesn't even bother with a verbal response, giving Simyeong a seated half-bow. Her eyes are uneasy, and it isn't until Minho pinches her arm that she remembers to smile professionally at him.

Simyeong merely nods at them and leaves his office, no small amount of relief filling him at the quiet outside. His right hands are excellent at their jobs, but that comes with the unfortunate downside of constant chatter, especially when they're anxious.

His relief is short lived, though. The moment the door closes behind him, he's already frowning at the mute silence of the rest of his department. Oh, of course they get up and greet him as he leaves, but it's muted and unsteady. In the corridor outside, what few people he sees are talking exclusively in whispers. The soft hubbub of voices echoing down the halls from other rooms in the building is, for once in his long tenure, missing. Haeyeon is a large guild- a major one, if they get their way- and it's never entirely quiet in here. Not like this.

Simyeong is not an easily frightened man, but as he strides down the corridor just a touch more tense than usual, he can't say the eerie silence doesn't throw him off a

"Fuck!"

Simyeong stumbles back from the corner, a hand pressed over his pounding heart, and stares wide-eyed at Kim Sunghan. "Kim Sunghan-ssi," he says, and his voice is a hair's thread off from the normal. Unacceptable. He clears his throat. "My apologies."

Kim Sunghan's face is flushed—from the swearing, no doubt. He doesn't usually lose his composure like that. "Seok Simyeong-ssi. No, I apologize," he answers a little faintly, looking away and patting himself down. "I hadn't realized you were coming."

Which is strange. He's an A-rank, and Simyeong's a stat B-rank. Their auras are hardly on the level of an S-rank's, but they're still fairly noticeable. If not sensing each other's presence by aura, they'll hear each other coming, usually well in time to avoid this sort of fuss.

...Simyeong notices, suddenly, that he's been—Hm. Muting his presence, he supposes is the best way to put it. He feels buttoned up a touch too tight, and spares a hand to loosen his tie slightly as he relaxes his control.

"I hope everything went alright with Guild Leader's brother?" he asks delicately, choosing to gloss over the earlier mess for both their sakes. "I presume they're still speaking to each other, if you're here."

What he means, of course, is this: Are Guild Leader and his brother still talking? Or has his brother taken his leave already? Is the guild leader attending to his duties, or busy elsewhere? Is Yoohyun alright?

Kim Sunghan's response, here, should be prompt and to the point. He should square his shoulders, look darkly upset, and tell Simyeong with perfect professionalism and perfect surety that Han Yoojin has left (as usual), that Han Yoohyun was wildly upset (as usual), that he's requested privacy (as usual), and that he'll call Simyeong an hour from now to resume his activities for the day (as usual).

Kim Sunghan looks... spooked. He glances over his shoulders, back towards the meeting room, brows furrowing with uncertainty, and tells Simyeong, "I think... I don't know. I think Han Yoojin said something.” He stares at the ground, like he doesn’t believe his own words. “Or—maybe Guild Leader was angry."

Simyeong blinks at him. "What?"

"It was..." Kim Sunghan shakes his head. "Did you feel it? The—aura?"

"I felt something. Are you sure it was an aura? It's unlikely any aura would reach that far—"

He shakes his head again, more resolutely this time. "I was right outside. It was an aura." He swallows visibly. "But it wasn't Guild Leader's."

"...You're saying Han Yoojin Awakened?"

Instead of answering, he says, "He didn't go home." What? "Guild Leader took his brother to his house." What? "He said to clear his schedule for the rest of the day. And that you should stay on call, if possible." Some of Simyeong's bewilderment must show on his face, because Kim Sunghan shrugs, which for the man is a minute duck of the head. "He didn't explain himself. And Han Yoojin looked... distracted."

This tells him... well, not 'summarily nothing' like the uncharitable part of him would like to say, but Simyeong needs a moment to process. "Would you join me," he says, frowning slightly, "for a quick visit to the cafeteria? If there's anything else you can tell me, I would appreciate it. I should be fully briefed when Guild Leader calls for me."

Kim Sunghan raises a hand and massages the bridge of his nose, right there in the middle of the corridor. If Simyeong were a lesser man, he might gape at him. "I don't know what else I can tell you, or if it'll even help," he admits, "but I'll come."

As he lowers his hand, Simyeong notices the fine tremor in his fingers. He says nothing.

*

Sunghan had warned Seok Simyeong earlier. He doesn't blame him for not listening, though. It's hard to believe—

Han Yoojin is... small. Unassuming. An F-rank, Sunghan had thought in days past, without a doubt. (After all, what better would he possibly be good for? But that half of the thought was one he'd struck down viciously. No good or not, he was still Guild Leader's brother.)

So to see him sitting there, now—small, unassuming, hands folded neatly in his lap and watching Seok Simyeong and Han Yoohyun speak in low voices—and knowing that that's the person who—

He can't even put it into words. The sickness that had swept through him earlier was unlike anything he'd ever felt. The raw, unfiltered panic, the feeling that there was something out there that wanted him, personally, left as little more than a smear on the ground. The mindless terror of being so very, very alone.

That's maybe a fraction of what it felt like to be standing outside when Han Yoojin Awakened.

(That's not even getting into the exhaustion. The anger. Sunghan has been told he feels like tension in your muscles and the weight of a solid punch. Han Yoohyun feels like ever-burning fires and painful focus, when he relaxes his control inside dungeons.

Han Yoojin just feels like pain.)

Seok Simyeong keeps casting glances back at him. He's rattled, badly so, but Sunghan doesn't think Han Yoojin has noticed that. He seems just as distant as earlier, just as distracted, now that he's not seeing them as a threat.

From his perspective, it can't have looked—great. Sunghan answering the summons from their guild leader, marching through the mini portal alongside Seok Simyeong, shoulder to shoulder, both of them radiating tension. Heaven knows muscle memory almost had him reaching for Han Yoojin to throw him out.

And then Han Yoojin looked at them from where he was talking to Han Yoohyun, startled, and then Sunghan had choked, air ripped straight from his lungs, dropping to his knees, and thought in a small, startled voice, oh i'm going to die.

And then Han Yoohyun had yelped "hyung!" and Sunghan hadn't died, hadn't lost the ability to breathe, and Seok Simyeong was on his hands and knees at his side, and Sunghan had gripped his shoulder and steadied them both with a sympathetic-desperate look. It'll pass, he'd hoped that look had said, along with You see?

Suffice it to say, the rumors about ghosts that he overheard in the cafeteria are beyond understandable.

(Han Yoojin stares at the air with a distant blankness to his eyes. He ignores Han Yoohyun and Seok Simyeong talking about how he should register his Awakening, if he should register his Awakening. It takes a few calls of his name before he looks towards his younger brother, and even then the hollow darkness of his gaze doesn't fade entirely.

Sunghan watches him uneasily, and thinks that Seok Simyeong isn't the only one in this room who looks like he's seeing ghosts.)

[somerpmemes]

The Owl House Starters

Change as needed

“No! My only weakness! Dying!”

“That doesn’t count, right?”

“Do you have any friends? Real ones?”

“Tiny trash thief!”

“Oops, that happens sometimes.”

“I’m a squirmy little fella.”

“I like food, I like love, just let me write about it!”

“Oh, he gets so cute when he’s thirsty for power.”

“I’ve never actually broken any of your stupid laws… in front of you.”

“I hate everything you’re saying right now.”

“We’d be the strongest power couple ever.”

“Self-doubt is a prison you can never escape from.”

“Anyways, let’s bounce before any more monsters fall in love with me.”

“I am not your cutie pie!”

“No one wants an un-oiled snake.”

“Remember, never befriend a man in sandals and always measure twice, cut once.”

“Be back by nightfall or risk mortal peril!”

“I know I’ve had enough delight for one day.”

“Sorry to break it to you, ___, but no one here is that well-dressed.”

“This has been a rough day.”

“Big houses always belong to big whack jobs.”

“Today just got good.”

“Wizards are just old people with glitter in their pockets.”

“Anyways, your food is gone and we are too.”

“Never trust a man in casual drapery.”

“All that mean-spirited laughter made me sleepy.”

“I don’t like this. I really don’t like this.”

“All your food was so tiny and cute.”

“If you can think of a better plan I’d love to hear it.”

“Betrayed by my own cool accessories.”

“I didn’t have to be part of this!”

“I… don’t like this.”

“I think I’ll head home and look at pictures of animals that are still… alive.”

“Wow, you’re so unnoticeable I almost rolled into you.”

“It’s okay, the thorns only went through a few layers of skin.”

“Alright, into the darkness you go.”

“Oh my god, I haven’t eaten real food in so long please give me some.”

“You can’t just cut open a human, can you?”

“Keeping junk in my pocket saved my life!”

“Ahh, baby’s first wanted poster.”

“Even demons have inner demons.”

“This is my paying attention face.”

“Look, now we’re boo boo buddies.”

“It’s like a rainbow, but looking at it turns you inside out.”

“I respect your cunning but I also hate you for it.”

“Oh, gross. Can I keep that?”

“This is terrifying, so why do you look so happy?”

“Oh no, a twist!”

“I’m kind of over that nickname, but okay.”

“Oh, what lovely thing do we have here? It’s just so dang shiny, oh my.”

“And look, I drew flip book.”

“I will literally do anything to stop this.”

“If I’m seen, I could go to jail… again.”

“Alright, let’s see this mess.”

“That’s probably fine.”

“Time to prepare for bloodshed.”

“Welcome down to my level!”

“I know I should be repulsed but that look is fierce.”

“I’m gonna steal everything that’s not nailed down!”

“I was up all night poison tasting and, for some reason, I don’t feel great.”

“I need an extra pair of eyes looking out for pickpockets. And an extra pair of hands in case I want to pickpocket.”

“I got leaves in my pants. And I like it.”

“I was a strange child.”

“You think this can stop me? I can still bite your ankles.”

“If you’re gonna eat me, just do it now!”

“___, you’re getting all swoony again.”

“Rivals are meant to be annihilated, not befriended.”

“Witches eating babies is so 1693.”

“Ugh, you.”

“I thought we were as cool as cucumbers but we’re as sour as pickles.”

“Whoa, I almost passed out.”

“It’s been hours, how can it keep screaming!?”

“Say that again and I steal your tongue.”

“Keep going, this is fun to watch.”

“Isn’t that taking it a bit too far?”

“Just go away before things somehow get worse!”

“This never happened.”

“And who doesn’t like their name in lights?”

“That’s the incorrect reaction!”

“I smell an easy mark.”

“Well, I hate her.”

“It’s like demonic possession with the ones you love.”

“This is just like my favorite early 2000’s movie!”

“I’m so old… and pointy.”

“I’ve got some very confusing emotions right now.”

“My life’s not a joke! But yours is!”

“Novelty costumes are where I draw the line.”

“I am not above disrespecting my elders.”

“This vacation just took an alarming, back-alley turn.”

“Geez, I thought I’d like being babied. But I feel small and helpless, like some sort of baby.”

“Hey, take this, society!”

“I didn’t like her telling me what to do before, but now I love it!”

“Let’s go let out some teen angst!”

“This is how the cool kids ride. Super backwards, on purpose.”

“Your life is pretty terrible. But, hey, it’ll probably be over soon.”

“This is some of my best work, really captures the shame.”

“That’s sweet, kid. Now let’s never speak of this again.”

“Show, don’t tell, man.”

“Oh, look what you did. I’m gonna go rub it in.”

“That seems like a potential problem to me.”

“You being the razzle, I’ll bring the dazzle.”

“Do you always have confetti on you or—?”

“You’re just gonna be unhelpful, huh?”

“Okay, time to run for no particular reason!”

“Oof, I’ve had this nightmare before.”

“Like I’d actually apologize.”

“I want power, and I want drama.”

“Are you ready to give up?”

“I was afraid, I acted stupid.”

“I just wish you told me the truth.”

“You know, it didn’t taste as bad as I thought I would.”

“Impressive, still alive.”

“This is a throne worthy of a tyrant!”

“No, no, keep those sticky hands away.”

“No one wants to see that.”

“Since when are you into sports?”

“Gross, sympathy.”

“Don’t spend all night plotting revenge.”

“Oh, this is an interesting development.”

“I’ll take that weird grumble as a yes.”

“I’m feeling confident about this plan.”

“Trust must be earned.”

“If you run, you’ll just make it harder for yourself!”

“Your pride has destroyed you.”

“So tiny, so angry.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be clean again.”

“If you ever want to search for the truth, I’ll help you.”

“Aww, that’s a horrible lie.”

“Partake of my free snack samples!”

“Why isn’t anyone paying attention to me?”

“A, eww. B, I’m bored. C, I feel like pickpocketing some dork while they browse.”

“I know my good angle.”

“Ugh, what are the basement dwellers doing out in natural sunlight?’

“Hey, there’s more to life than shipping.”

“___, I know you’re trying to help, but I think you’re crossing a line.”

“Ooh, I love punching.”

“You’re ominous, and I like it.”

“And of course you would be here just to be a nuisance.”

“I wanted to compare sunglasses.”

“Fame can really box you in, you know?”

“Besides, if anyone’s putting you down it’s gonna be me.”

“If it’s disappointing in any way I’ll spend the rest of my life trashing it.”

“He scammed us. Can you believe he scammed us?”

“Good entrance. But that outfit? Hah!”

“I’ve got a new crush and her name is education!”

“Ahh, fresh garbage.”

“I have never seen such an extravagant earring.”

“Wow, a surprisingly peaceful domestic moment. When will it be ruined?”

“Weaponizing my pride, well played.”

“Sorry, whoever’s over there!”

“Well, go on. Eat the snow.”

“Huh, it’s no fun if they don’t tremble.”

“Oh, okay, alright. Yup, an idea’s happening.”

“Shh! I don’t need your validation!”

“Get back here before that thing bites you!”

“No, we’re gonna die.”

“Cool. I didn’t actually think you could do it.”

“It’s not a secret.”

“Alright, your adorable banter is literally making me sick.”

“Believe it or not, I’ve seen worse.”

“Aww. I won’t be doing that, but thanks.”

“Quitting: it’s like trying, but easier.”

“You humans are filled with liquids, right?”

“I guess I have always liked pouring things into other things.”

“Time to scrounge through the trash.”

“I ain’t no desk jockey.”

“You don’t know diddly dang about squiddly squat!”

“I love secret rooms!”

“You have an aura of lies.”

“Also, you can eat trash.”

“Do the right thing, you dingus!”

“It just goes on like this for an hour.”

“Carnivals bring crowds and crowds bring suckers.”

“We’ve got scams to run.”

“I know poison when I see it.”

“You can’t scam a scammer.”

“You should really put a lock on your closet.”

“I love crimes!”

“Now this is my kind of weird.”

“That’s way safer than becoming blood brothers.”

“Beat up the man and steal his things for me.”

“This mama is ready for trauma.”

“All right. Approval!”

“Curse these stubby legs!”

“Sketchy carnival rides are not to blame this time.”

“___, you’re lucky I can’t be mad at your adorable antics.”

“Just when I thought I couldn’t respect the law any less…”

“Aww, what a supportive sign.”

“Yep, I just counted to one million.”

“Looks like we ruined his life for a second time.”

“I’ve always wanted to own a jagged piece of cheap metal.”

“Yes! Bread puns, bread puns forever!”

“Now I know what friendship tastes like.”

“I think today is a talons day.”

“It’s fun because it’s stupid.”

“I’ll admit, I was adorable.”

“Be careful with my brain.”

“Wouldn’t you rather talk about it?”

“That’s my motto after all, ‘Out of sight, out of mind.’”

“No schemes, no plots, no ruses. None.”

“I can’t believe I made him cry.”

“Are you solving a crime or about to commit one?”

“Sadly this is one problem crime can’t solve.”

“I’m supposed to choose someone interesting, accomplished, and noteworthy. People aren’t meant to be all those things!”

“Yup, her brain’s burned up real good.”

“Be still my fantasy-loving heart.”

“I’m pretty good at getting stuck inside people’s heads.”

“Hey, I found something magical.”

“I’ma put my face in it.”

“It’s like a little doghouse for angels.”

“If you’re handing out attention, I deserve it.”

“Eww, I mean, aww.”

“I really messed things up.”

“It’s eggs, it’s full of eggs.”

“No one turns down an interview with someone this pretty.”

“Me? Avoid? What? No. But let’s skip it.”

“There’s levels to me, kid. Levels I say!”

“Oh, right, I put people in there.”

“I’m gonna hug you so hard you’ll never forget me again!”

“I regret teaching you about the internet.”

“Ah, a severed hand. Perfect response.”

“Hmm, the demon at my shoulder makes a good point.”

“Always trust a shoulder demon.”

“The more I look at him, the more uncomfortable I get.”

“Man, you’ve got some quick grabbers.”

“I can’t wait to get overdressed, take awkward photos, push all the buttons!”

“We’re gonna turn this bloodbath into a fun bath.”

“Do you think I could pull off red eyeshadow?”

“Girl, you could pull off anything.”

“We’re style geniuses!”

“Ominous footsteps, creepy woods, this is no problem.”

“Dang, I look great.”

“___, you always go overboard and I end up bailing you out.”

“Now, what’s the fun in watching a kid get eaten by a monster if it’s my kid?”

“___, I don’t think you’re ready but we’re literally out of time.”

“Why so twitchy, witchy?”

“Teenagers are brutal. They’ll boo anyone and that kind of public humiliation will stick with you for life.”

“You look nice. Strange, but nice.”

“Honestly, I’m kind of amazed with how fearless you are.”

“You’ve done things I could never do.”

“Thing is, you’re sitting in my personal chitchat zone, which means you gotta talk.”

“I am a little weirdo.”

“You gotta pander.”

“Cheating a isn’t anything to brag about.”

“Well, can’t reason with crazy!”

“I’ve been talking for too long.”

“Feeling sentimental?”

“I love water.”

“I don’t know much about sports but I do know about sports movies.”

“What happens in the montage stays in the montage.”

“Not everything can be solved with a good attitude and a dope movie soundtrack.”

“Sorry, I just really love backstories.”

“You just destroyed your social life.”

“That’s such a stupid rule!”

“You’re not gonna show this to anyone, right?”

“I haven’t forgotten what you promised me.”

“Ahh, you’re a thorn in my side but you always dig your way into my heart.”

“Jeez, you’re morbid.”

“Ahh, it’s a fate much worse than death if you think about it.”

“Please don’t make me regret taking you here.”

“Love me a properly ventilated castle.”

“I spy with my little eye something coming this way!”

“I’m going away and I don’t know if I can come back this time.”

“And  ___, thank you, for being in my life.”

“I want her back as much as you do.”

“Don’t look at me like that, this is for your own good.”

“Ah farts, I got caught.”

“You understand, don’t you?”

“Please tell me that’s not as bad as it sounds.”

“To be great, you have to make sacrifices.”

“Ahh, ___, you chose the wrong side.”

“I like your spirit, but try that again and things won’t end well for you.”

“Go on, then. Go be a hero.”

“I may have lost but so have you.”

“I can teach you what I know, and what we don’t know we can learn together.”

[atlabeth]

transferred part 20 - atla smau

part 19 | masterlist | epilogue

summary: trying to run from your past is hard, but falling for your brother’s roommate is even harder. little do you know that he’s falling for you as well.

a/n: me when i have to write more than 5 words in a series thats supposed to be a smau

anywho! basically the last chapter?? which is crazy?? filled with heartfelt emotions and the moment that you've all been waiting for, it's a wild ride. so strap in and enjoy. the epilogue will be posted later today so i can finally wrap this series up!! and dont worry theres a super long sappy authors note on the epilogue. LETS GET INTO IT

wc: 2.3k

warning(s): cursing, mentions of alcohol, hurt/comfort, one suggestive comment, mentions of toxic relationships, reader talking about her self sabotaging behavior and burnout, Bad Coping Methods (dont disappear kids)

-

“You haven’t seen her?” Zuko sighed as the same words he had heard on repeat for the past hour played through his ears again. “It’s alright, thank you. Have a good night.”

He shook his head at his friends, their defeated expressions mirroring his own as he leaned against the kitchen island. He ran an exhausted hand through his hair, and he couldn’t help but think of the countless times you had done it for him.

“Your sister doesn’t play when it comes to theatrics,” Aang lamented as he plopped on the couch next to Sokka.

“Tell me about it,” he muttered. “I mean, she doesn’t pull stuff like this. Sometimes she went over the top when she was younger, staying out a little too late or doing something stupid, but she never just… she never just tried to disappear like this. I.. I guess she was too worried about Katara and me to do anything like that, but still.” He knocked back the rest of the seltzer and tossed the can on the table — alcohol was tempting, but none of them wanted to be any less than completely aware tonight.

“We all knew she was hurting,” Sokka continued. “Not even she could be fine after everything that happened with Hahn, especially the day after, but I— I guess I thought that she would open up before just dropping off the radar completely!

“No news from the girls,” Aang announced, prompting a collective sigh from the other two boys. “I gotta give it to her, she’s been very thorough with this.”

“Of course she has. It’s classic Y/N — she can disappear without a trace, sure, but she can’t put enough effort into picking up some supplies for my project on her way home.” It was a lame attempt to lighten the mood, and though he got a weak chuckle out of Aang, it was radio silence on Zuko’s part.

“Hey, buddy.” It didn’t snap him out of his reverie, and Sokka seriously contemplated throwing his empty soda can at him. “You okay?”

“She didn’t even say anything to me,” he finally murmured, eyes trained on his phone screen. “She said she would tell me if she was having a hard time, but she didn’t say anything to me. Just suffered in silence until it got so bad she just up and left. She just… left. Without a single word to anyone. To me.”

Aang’s eyes softened and he let out a loose exhale. “Zuko, she didn’t mean to hurt you — I know that much. She’s just been under a lot of stress lately, and… I guess it didn’t manifest in the best way.”

“Stress...” he muttered, trying to piece it together. There was something nagging at the back of his skull, something on the tip of his tongue, but he just couldn’t get it. “And you guys are sure she hasn’t put anything anywhere? No texts that you missed, nothing?”

“Believe me,” Sokka said. “I’ve refreshed her pages a thousand times by now. It’s radio silence on her side. God, I wish I was more invasive and put like, a tracking device on her car or something! For all we know, she could be back to Kyoshi.”

Kyoshi. Stress. This whole thing, your disappearing act.

And suddenly, it clicked.

Zuko stood up abruptly, nearly knocking over the stool in the process and warranting puzzled looks from both of his friends as he grabbed his keys off the table and practically ran to the door.

“Zuko, where are you going?” Aang questioned.

He tugged the door open and shot a glance back at them, tension having noticeably dissolved from his shoulders.

“I know where she is.”

-

Zuko tapped idly against the steering wheel, once again glancing down at his phone screen but to no avail. His relationship with you had become infinitely more complicated since the kiss through fault of both of them — he supposed that was what happened when two people who didn’t know how to talk about their emotions caught feelings for each other. Zuko was very skilled at sticking his foot in his mouth whenever he tried to talk about anything like this, and

But you had accepted his offer to talk on the way home, so that meant something.

He had originally suggested just talking on the way home like he had proposed earlier, but you had a different idea. ‘Trust me,’ you had told him. ‘It has a good track record with making people feel better.’

Your proposition was a wildflower field on the outskirts of the city, just out of the way that someone would go en route to the university. Far enough from the city to emanate an aura of peace, but close enough to be a feasible trip.

“I found this place when I was missing home,” you smiled as he parked the car. “I love it here, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes I just feel homesick for Kyoshi. You passed a field like this on the way into town, and when I stumbled here, it just kinda felt like fate. So now whenever I’m stressed, or overwhelmed, or just need a break, I come out here. And I think this is the perfect place to talk about… well, whatever’s going on with us.”

“Sounds good.” He returned the sentiment then cleared his throat. “As long as we don’t go in there. I can admire it from afar, but just looking at that field is making my skin itch.”

You laughed and nodded amiably. “Deal.”

-

One hand was splayed against your chest, the other trailing lazy circles with the pads of your fingers against the metal as you gazed up at the sky. You had the best and only seat of the view, the flora drifting softly in the night breeze as the stars twinkled from above.

You didn’t know what you were thinking, being here. The past couple of weeks had just been… crushing you. It was like your heart was stuck in a vice and no matter what you did, it just got tighter and tighter.

You had been treating everyone you knew horribly, but you couldn’t stop. It felt like a game — how terribly could you act towards them until they snapped too? Until your friends, your siblings, Zuko, recognized that they had made a mistake by trying to help you?

And you didn’t know what it was about today, but… something inside of you just broke after that morning with your roommates. So you did what you were best at, and you ran. Skipped class, skipped work, just drove around aimlessly until even that was starting to feel like too much of a trap.

And then you ended up here.

It would’ve been laughable if you weren’t on the verge of breaking down.

You had been here, just laying on the hood of your car parked a few feet away from the field on an off road path, for the better part of an hour. If you were going to drown underneath the weight of your thoughts, it was better to do it alone.

But as you heard the crunching of gravel underneath car tires, your eyes instinctively shot towards the noise — so much for being alone — and you sat up. Your brows furrowed in recognition, you knew that car, and it felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest when Zuko stepped out.

“You remembered,” you breathed after a moment of silence. “You’re here.”

“Always.” He said it so obviously, so easily — why wouldn’t he remember? Why wouldn’t he be here?

You scooted over to make space on the hood and patted the space next to you softly, pulling your knees up to your chest in a moment of shame as he walked around to the front and pushed himself up next to you. What were you going to say to him? What could you say?

“I’m sorry,” you said out of the blue, your words pouring out of you like an emotional waterfall. “I’m sorry for just— for just leaving, I know it was stupid and I know they’re all probably worried out of their minds, but I couldn’t do it, Zuko. I-it was like I was trapped, and I know it was irrational, but I had to get out of there—”

“You didn’t have to,” he said quietly, effectively stopping your rant. “If you really had to get out, you could’ve at least said something to one of us. I don’t know what things were like back at Kyoshi, but here— here, you can’t throw yourself back onto the knife every time something goes wrong, because— you just can’t do that anymore.”

“I’m not mad, believe me, I’m relieved that you’re okay. I just..” he sighed and glanced up at the night sky, the light of the moon illuminating his features as he faced you once more. “I know you’ve felt alone before, but you’re not. You have Katara, and Sokka, Suki, Toph— you have me, Y/N! And I’m not going anywhere, trust me, but— but you can’t keep doing this to yourself, because they care about you, and I care about you.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and chose to concentrate on the hood of the car, tapping your fingers against the metal as a way to use up your nervous energy. “You’re… you’re right,” you said after a long moment of silence, the beginnings of a mirthless smile on your lips.

“After that night at the party, I just— I couldn’t stop thinking about what happened. There was a part of me that just wanted to lock myself in my room and never come out, but I— I told myself I was better than that, and I refused to let myself fall back onto any of it. So I worked. I took extra shifts, I helped out my professors, I did anything and everything I could to try and keep my mind off of Hahn. But I wasn’t helping anything, I was just… I was destroying myself. It was just like you said. I was a candle burning at both ends but still convinced that I was doing the right thing, and eventually.. I just couldn’t take it anymore. So I ran.”

“And— there’s always been this… this voice in my head that pops up after things in my life are going good, and it tells me that something is going to go wrong. A-and it tells me that if I’m the one that ruins it, then I don’t have to ask myself what I did wrong, if I could’ve stopped it from happening— if it’s inevitable, then I should be the one to ruin it. It’s how most of my relationships ended, and— well, the only thing it’s succeeded in is making me miserable.”

You don’t even notice your hands are shaking until you feel Zuko placing his own over yours — a simple gesture asking an unsaid question, one you answer by intertwining his fingers with your own.

“That same voice popped up again once I started getting close to you,” you admitted quietly. “And this whole time, I’ve been so terrified of falling that I never considered you would catch me. But I’m tired, Zuko. I’m tired of constantly looking over the edge.”

As you turned your head to meet his eyes again, your breath caught in your throat at his close proximity. You were sure that no matter how much time you spent with him, your heart would never stop beating out of your chest for Zuko.

“I will always be there to catch you,” he affirmed softly. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

And just like before, he brought his hand to the side of your face and tenderly brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His hand, slightly calloused but emanating comfort all the same, lingered on your cheek for a moment before he posed the question.

“Can I kiss you?”

You nodded, and his lips captured your own immediately. You reciprocated with an almost desperate fervor and— and it just felt so right. You had grown so accustomed to the constant warmth he carried with him that it had become a part of you, he had become a part of you, and now a life without Zuko was just unimaginable.

He was right — he already was there to catch you, each and every time. Giving you endless rides when your car broke down, sitting through the world’s most boring anthro projects, letting you bare your soul to him, telling you it was all going to be okay when nothing felt okay, and managing to find you when you had gone out of your way to not be found. And all of it— it all made you realize.

You didn’t want to keep running. And you didn’t have to. Not anymore.

Zuko pulled away and pressed his forehead to yours, breathing slightly labored as the two of you sat in comfortable silence. That is, until you broke it.

“So,” you started, a nervous chuckle following. “Are we… are we a thing now?”

You could tell that caught him by surprise by the laugh that escaped him, a sound of unfiltered joy. “I’d say that we are.”

You could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks once more as he slid off of the hood of the car and held out his hand, an offering you took happily. “We should get home,” he said, somewhat reluctantly. “It’s past midnight, and—” Zuko glanced at his phone and grimaced. “They’re all still worried out of their minds.”

“Right,” you muttered. “I’m gonna get the lecture of my life from Sokka and Katara.”

“Probably,” he chuckled. “But they’re just doing their job as concerned siblings.” He pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead and glanced back at his own car. “I’ll see you back at the apartment?”

You nodded, an uncontrollable smile pulling at your lips. “Thank you, Zuko. For this, and— for everything.”

He returned the sentiment, golden eyes filled with adoration.

“Always.”

-

if your name is crossed out it means i can’t tag you!

perm taglist: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin

transferred: @ourbestfriend-mishacollins @lil-lex1 @xxshad0wxb1rdxx @zuko-is-the-sun @akiris @irohs-teapot @thatarthistorynerd @charlenasaxen @minninugget @marvel-ousnesss @count-thotticus @what-ye-egg @furblrwurblr @thesstuff @mariachiii @ietss @dizzy-miss-lizzieeeeee @xbarrjallenx @tommy-braccoli @dreamsluvrr @floofybread @thelovelylolly @lin-biefong-is-my-life @tiffanyy-21 @sistheselenophile @theincredibledeadlyviper @bakugouswh0r3 @loganrwebb @mikaslilworld @matsunshine @iris-suoh @aizameow @h3llbun @kozuelle

atla: @marianne1806

[aishadream]

The Vampire Diaries/The Originals Fanfiction

always & forever | serendipity

Summary: Nicolette never thought that she will be pulled in the TVD universe. But here we are.

Warnings: violence, bad language, sexual themes, smut, polyamorous relationships and characters,

Pairing: Polyamorous relationship between OC/Kol/Klaus/Elijah (no incest)

A/N: please be kind and if you like it please reblog

chapter 1.

I'm having a bad day, no scratch that. I'm having a terribly horrible day.

Yeah, that sounds better. I thought with the grimace and continued to twirl my finger up and down the cool side of my glass while trying to ignore the people of the bar and their annoyingly loud voices. Unfortunately, Mystic Grill was a really popular place in the town.

"Jesus," I murmured and rubbed my temple as if that would prevent the budding headache from developing into a lovely migraine. Because that's what I exactly need right now.

I looked down at the drink I ordered a bit earlier and frowned trying to decide if maybe something alcoholic would be a better idea than just a simple cola with ice. But alas, I wasn't that kind of person who would drown their sorrow in the glass of something stronger.

So I was left with my loneliness and half full or half empty glass - depending on your point of view - of cold brown sugary liquid.

I sighed.

Only a few things were clear to me.

Firstly, I'm now in Mystic Grill, the bar in Mystic Falls, Virginia.

Secondly, it wasn't a dream because the slash on my hand still throbbed with every move even if the bleeding stopped.

Thirdly? Well, I was ready to self-commit myself to the mental asylum. You would ask why?

I will tell you, but let me ask you a question first.

Did you ever dream of appearing in one of your favourite TV shows?

Because that's what happened to me.

I, Nicolette Jackie Green, somehow managed to get myself transported into The Vampire Diaries universe.

Cheers to fucking that.

I took a sip of my drink and tried to make at least some sense of my situation without delving deep into my emotions and other things.

Fortunately, I always was good at compartmentalization. While I knew that all the emotions and the real realizations of what happened will come back it was neither time nor place for that.

It was time to plan and not panic.

First of all, I needed to know in what season I appeared, without putting any more unnecessary attention on myself.

And that was easier said than done.

I silently groaned and burrowed my head into my arms. All that thinking didn't help with my headache.

I was so concentrated that I didn't hear a person coming until that someone took a seat on the chair next to me. I turned to face the person who decided to sit next to me while there was plenty of spots far away from me and I wasn't in the mood to be super polite to anyone.

I instantly knew who he was. He was a male who looked to be in his 20s even if the wide and almost goofy grin on his face mixed with a mischievous glint in his eyes added his look some boyish charm.

Nathaniel Buzolic was a handsome man, there were no objections. but the man in front of me? While he had brown hair and eyes and those aristocratic features there was something else about this man,

Maye it was the aura and the way he held himself. I could feel his powerful and dangerous aura, it was like a beacon warning everyone that he wasn't a man to be trifled.

But what surprised me the most was the also calmness and peace I could feel from him from the moment our eyes met. For the first time in a long time, I felt safe, I felt as if nobody can ever harm me when he was near.

"My darling' mate. I've been waiting for you for a very long time" he exclaimed . "Kol Mikealson, at your service" the youngest living Mikealson brother added.

Oh God have mercy on my poor soul.

[mypoisonedvine]

how about a dark bucky x naive reader where he always gets nightmares and she is always trying to help him (making him tea, laying with him til he sleeps, etc.) and one night she laying beside him and he’s having a nightmare and he traps her and says “this is the way to help me” and then there’s non/dubcon since she does want to help him 😳🥺

oh my godddd i love this!!  anon your mind.... this idea has been living in my brain rent free ever since you sent it it.

noncon, yandere-ish bucky, breeding kink, slight somnophilia and more below the cut people, watch out

he would definitely be really sweet at first, even with his brooding and aura of mystery

so it’s impossible for you to resist trying to get to know him better even as he seems to avoid you sometimes

eventually he opens up enough to tell you about his nightmares, and you feel awful about it.  he struggles to get enough sleep and sometimes he’ll try to get you to hang out late and you realize it’s because he’s afraid of trying to sleep at all.

you tell him to spend the night in your room and you guys can hang out and have a classic high school-style sleepover with junk food and movies.  you figure maybe it’ll distract him and maybe he’ll stay up so late that when he’s exhausted, he’ll be able to fall asleep easily.

it’s a lot of fun but it doesn’t seem to help much.  and it gets awkward when he makes a move on you and you do your best to gently rebuff him.   i like you a lot but i don’t like you like that-- i just want to be your friend, if i can 

it’s never an easy conversation to have but he seems to take it well, or as well as he could be reasonably expected to

your next solution was tea with melatonin.  he got to bed easier but he still had terrible nightmares and you had to wake him up because he nearly choked you out in his sleep.

finally, he asked you to sleep beside him in his bed, and you felt a little conflicted about it.

I know the last time you were around me while I slept went... really poorly... but I promise, I won’t hurt you.  I could never hurt you.

you agree only because you want to help him so badly

at first it’s normal, even sweet.  you brush your teeth together in the bathroom, you change into your comfiest pajama set and try to ignore that he’s sleeping shirtless.

you fall asleep pretty easily, and hope that he’s doing the same

but not so much later, you wake up to metal fingers pushing up the bottom of your shirt, running over your hips and waist

you mumble through the haze of half-sleep to ask him what’s going on but stop when you feel his hand slide under the fabric and wrap around your breast.

you open your mouth to speak but no words come out. you're totally paralyzed.

he slides closer and you feel his entire body pressed against your back. he's so warm, it's almost hot to the touch. hottest of all is the hard outline of his cock pressing right into your ass.

he rolls his hips against you and lets out an incredibly soft moan-- that's when you realize that he must be having some very strange dream or nightmare, that he isn't meaning to do this to you.

bucky, wake up! you're having a nightmare...I think...

I'm awake, the voice right beside your ear informs you. that or I'm having the best dream of my life.

you stammer because you have no idea what is going on. w-wait...

this is the only thing that's helped. I never told you, but the nights where I tired myself out by jerking off and imagining you, those were the ones where I slept the best. but it didn't fix it completely. I just know if you help me, the nightmares will go away.

before you can even speak again he's talking over you, sounding less sweet and more stern.

don't you wanna help me, doll? don't you wanna help me feel good? don't worry, I'll make you feel good too...

the hairs on the back of your neck are standing up because you know something is horribly wrong, but you want to give him a chance. still, you're unsure. I don't know...

you don't know? you said you were my friend. friends help each other.

you gulp and answer sheepishly, o...okay...

thanks, doll. I knew I could count on you.

he grabs your hand and pulls it down. you gasp as he wraps it around his manhood-- it's thick, and hard yet silky.

you've never touched a cock before have you?

you feel embarrassed, you realize you must be doing something wrong already if he noticed your lack of experience.  um, no... I haven’t...

oh I don't mind! it's a good thing. your hands are really soft... so much softer than mine.

you stay still and let him fuck into your hand, your face burning with shame even though you began to feel arousal tingle between your legs.

after a little more of that, he moves you around until he’s hovering over you, his hips between your legs.

I wanna try something different-- it’ll be better.

before you can stop him he’s rubbing his cock against your crotch, through your flimsy little shorts, and the sensation sends shivers up your spine.  you had touched yourself before, but this felt totally different.  

with him on top of you like this, you feel so small. his body towers over and envelops yours, but even with all that strength his little moans sounded gentle and vulnerable.

he leans down and you can feel his breath on your neck, his long hair falling down and tickling your face while his stubble scratches against your cheek

fuck, I love you, he murmurs into your ear.

what?! you try to recoil but you're trapped between him and the bed.

don't you love me too? I know you do.

you shake your head, you can’t even believe what’s happening.  I told you, we're just friends

he grabs your jaw suddenly, forcing you to look at him, and even in the dark you can see his eyes burning with anger.

I know you love me. if you don't, you will.

he starts to move his hips back and pull your pajama shorts to the side, and for all your naivete you know exactly what's about to happen.

bucky, please-- don't put it in me-- no, stop, wait--!

he shoves into you, groaning as your unwilling body is forced to accept him

hnng, you're so tight doll. can't you feel how wet you are? that's how I know you love me. god, you feel so fucking good.

you sob and try to push at his shoulders but he's like fucking granite.

don't fight it, it’s gonna feel good for you soon... you just need time to get used to me.

you can’t imagine how this could ever feel good, it stings and makes you feel nauseous-- that is, until he reaches down and swipes his calloused thumb over your sensitive bud.  

your whole body jerks and your fingers dig into his shoulders.

oh, do you like that princess?  

you want to deny it but you’re too busy bucking your hips involuntarily, chasing more sensation

fuck, you’re a needy little thing, huh?  you need me so bad... don’t worry, I’m here to take care of you.  god, you don’t know how long I’ve waited for the chance to take care of you....

suddenly the burn inside you begins to subside and you feel the tip of his cock rubbing against something that makes your walls tighten around him with every thrust. 

you hear your whimpers of pain morph into moans of pleasure, and you can hardly believe the noises are coming from you.

feels good, doesn’t it?  god, you’re such a tease... inviting me for a sleepover-- you don’t even know what that means for adults, does it?

guilt burns in your stomach as you wonder if you really did lead him on, if it means something different than you thought and that’s why he came onto you.

and before that, spending nearly every day with me and talking with me about things I’d never told anyone before... you may have fooled yourself but I knew you wanted me so damn bad.

had you??  you couldn’t remember now.  of course you’d always thought he was cute, that was objectively true, but you were just trying to be his friend...

and now you act so shocked and confused when I fuck you, but within a few minutes you’re moaning and begging for more.  

you don’t remember any begging.

his thrusts get a little rougher and you choke on nothing.

I know you want it.  I know you need it-- need me.

you can tell you’re going to come, but it doesn’t feel like how it feels when you’re by yourself.  it feels so much more intense, electric even, and you’re not sure you’ll be able to handle it.

god, i’m so close-- you’re close too, aren’t you?  you feel so good, doll.  feel so good around my cock.  fuck, you want me to come inside?

no, buck, you can’t-- i’m not--

oh it’s gonna feel so fucking good to fill you up, doll... and i know you’re gonna love how it feels when i come inside you.

you start to cry again, terrified that he’s going to get you pregnant when you’ve never even had sex before now.  please-- stop... i’ll help you again tomorrow, i’ll help you whenever you want, just please don’t come inside me...

oh doll, you’re gonna help me every night now, don’t worry about that.  gonna fuck you again before the night’s over, more likely than not.  gotta keep those nightmares away until I can only dream of you.

against everything in you hoping not to, you come suddenly.  you feel yourself tightening and fluttering around him as your whole body convulses.  

when your back arches, he slips his arms under you and holds you close, fucking into you with brutal speed and force.

fuck, right there-- fuck, doll, i’m coming, oh fuck!

with a deep growl he pushes his hips against yours as hard as he can, burying himself in your pulsating warmth.  you whimper and cry as his cock flexes with each spurt of come emptied into you.  it feels like it goes on forever, his come coating your walls while he sucks on the crook where your neck meets your shoulder.

fuck, baby... you’re incredible...

you shiver, waiting for him to pull out and roll off of you, but he just relaxes and kisses all along your collarbone.

god, I could fall asleep like this.  I sure as hell couldn’t have any nightmares with you keeping my cock warm in my sleep.

bucky... what if you got me pregnant?

oh, don’t talk like that, he purrs, you’ll get me all worked up and I’ll have to fuck you again.

he kisses you on the nose and it’s so disgustingly intimate.

I think I’ll be able to sleep again, at least for a few hours. come on, let’s move over to my side of the bed and you can be my little spoon.

[infinitebells]

Hello, I really like your blog a lot! If you still take them, I'd like to make a request. How about William Moriarty, Sherlock Homes, and Gojo (Jujutsu Kaisen) neglecting their s/o because they are busy. But they make it up to them with a sensual and passionate night (nsfw pls). I hope this is okay. Take care! <3

oh yes this is brilliant. also i'm going to keep this gender neutral since a gender wasn't specified so it's smut very under the cut.

william

✧ at first you’re well aware that he hasn’t been spending time with you because he’s busy

✧ however, as time goes on, the self doubt gnaws at the back of your mind, and you don’t even realize just how much it’s been affecting you until you can’t even get out of bed one day

✧ all that runs through your head is that he’s probably neglecting you because he’s fallen out of love

✧ william’s been far to busy to see how much his lack of affection has affected you

✧ it isn’t until you can’t even look up at the table during breakfast to say hi to him, and when you do finally look up there are dark bags under your eyes and your eyes are extremely bloodshot

✧ when you see how he's staring at you in shock, you flee the table and lock yourself in your room for the entire day

✧ it isn't until it's almost midnight when william finally goes into your room, his mind running a mile a minute, that he realizes just how badly you've been feeling

✧ the entire day he had been thinking of ways to make it up to you, so by the time he's in bed with you, he already knows what to do

"my love, i'm sorry for neglecting you so much. allow me to show you how much i love you ok?" he says from on top of you, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips, swollen from you biting them. it was a nervous habit you had developed over the years.

"what do you mean?" your voice is soft, and he can hear the exhaustion in it.

"let me take care of you for the night okay?" he doesn't wait for an answer, unbuttoning the shirt you were wearing. he was pleased to see it was one from his own closet. his lips move from yours, traveling down your jawline and tracing the line of your neck. he hears a content sigh from you, and he smiles against your skin as he continue his path down your neck.

"will, if you don't love me anymore just tell me," his eyes widen as your words, one hand coming to rest next to your head as the other gently massages your hip.

"i'm so madly in love with you i can't imagine my life without you," he breathes out, moving back down to trail kisses down your naked front. "i'm so sorry i haven't been treating you the way you properly deserve," he murmurs against your skin. your honest whimpers shake your body upon feeling william's lips against your clothed groin, and you can feel his soft smile against you.

"let me treat you like the royalty you are,"

✧ ✧ ✧ 

sherlock

✧ he gets so caught up in his cases that he honest to god just forgets about anything else in his life

✧ he once forgot john at a restaurant they were having lunch at because he saw someone struggling with a mugger trying to steal their bag and he sprinted out to go help

✧ so you're used to him being an airhead sometimes and forgetting about spending time with you

✧ however, this time around it had been going on for weeks, and it was almost like you didn't even exist at this point

✧ the self conscious feeling had been eating away at you, and john had started to notice how you skipped meals with him and sherlock and how you rarely left your room unless it was to lock yourself in miss hudson's room

✧ once watson pointed this out to sherlock, he felt extremely stupid because how could he be so neglectful of his wonderful partner?

✧ he decides to surprise you, making sure you were tucked safely in miss hudson's room for the day so he could have time to prepare the surprise

"what is this?" your voice was shaky, the dry sobs from earlier still shaking your body. the room you shared with sherlock was awash in the gentle glow of candles on every available surface, and rose petals traced a path to the bed. sherlock was laid on top of the made up bedding, and sherlock himself was spread out on his side, his elbow on the bed as his hand supported his head. he was shirtless, loose pants barely covering his bottom half, and a beautiful red rose stuck between his teeth. it was a scene straight out of a romance novel.

"i'm making up for being a horrible, horrible boyfriend for the past few weeks," he informs you, the rose falling out of his mouth as his hand beckons you to the bed. you hesitantly edge forward, kneeling down on the bed in front of him. he could see how tense you were, body trembling as tears flooded your eyes. he got up from his spot on the bed, sitting cross legged as he drags you onto his lap, hands finding your face and holding you gently. he was scared if he held any tighter he'd shatter your delicate, beautiful aura.

"n-no, if you don't want to be together any-" his hand moves, palm covering your mouth as he shakes his head.

"you're not getting rid of me that easily. i'm here to stay, and i'm going to make up for not being there for you. i was a very stupid boyfriend, and i'm going to show you how much i love you," he murmurs quietly, hand tilting your head back as his lips find your neck. his touch is barely there, but as one hand finds your hip and the other holds your jaw in place to the side, you're aware of the fact that he's just getting started. he switches from kissing the junction between your neck and shoulder to biting down, hard, and pushing your hips down onto his. you can feel his bulge beneath you, and the moan that falls from your lips is involuntary.

"sherlock," you mumble out, eyes fluttering closed. his kisses and nips grow harder, and his hips gyrate up into yours at a steady pace. both of your breaths pick up, and both of his hands land on your hips and push you down harshly onto his. the groan that rumbles through his chest sounds heavenly, and it pulls a whine out of you.

"fuck darling, i missed you so much," he whispers against your neck, tugging at your night shirt before pulling it off completely. you're both topless, bare torsos pushed together as his finally pulls his face out of your neck and meets your gaze.

"i missed you too detective holmes," you tease, grinding your own hips down onto his. he groans loudly, flipping you two over. rose petals fly up beside you at the force, but your attention is on the man above you, and the aroused smirk plastered across his face.

"oh, i definitely missed this," he says before yanking your pants down harshly.

✧ ✧ ✧ 

gojo

✧ gojo-sensei honestly has a maximum of three thoughts in his head at all times, and no he's not stupid he just cannot focus on too many things at once or he'll get severely overwhelmed

✧ so between dealing with a reincarnated yuji, hiding his existence from the higher-ups, and dealing with multiple unregistered special grade curses, he just has not had extra time to spend with you

✧ you're well aware and understanding of his added stress, but your insecurities plague you despite knowing this

✧ the logical part of you knows he's just busy, but your negative thoughts simply weighed you down to the point where both yuji and nanami could see how tired you were

✧ gojo only realized how neglected you had been feeling when sukuna popped up on yuji's cheek to make a snide comment about how if gojo wasn't going to take care of his s/o properly, then sukuna would gladly take over for him

✧ immediately rushes home to spend the rest of the night with you

the frantic pounding on your shared bedroom does nothing to rouse you, and when gojo finally unlocks the door and rushes into the room, you're still laying on the bed with your back facing him.

"sweetheart?" his voice is soft, and you feel the bed dip behind you. you stay facing the wall, desperately hoping he won't see the tears sliding across your face. you're proved wrong when his hand tugs on your shoulder, moving you so you're on your back and his face is hovering over yours. his blindfold is hanging around his neck, blue eyes gazing into yours.

"yeah?" you can't stop how your voice cracks, and it only serves to further embarrass you. his face drops, arms pulling you close to him so that your body is beneath his as he hovers over you, one arm propping him up. the other hand rests on your cheek, and you can't help the onslaught of tears that follows his affection. your eyes squeeze shut, and you barely suppress a sob.

"shh, shh, no baby don't cry, i'm so sorry for how i've been acting. i've been a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad boyfriend," he says, and his heart softens as he hears a small laugh from you at the reference to one of your favorite movies. "seriously sweetheart, i'm incredibly sorry for not spending time with you. am i allowed to show you how much i love you?" he asks, and when you open your eyes, you can't miss the signature mischievous glint in his startling blue eyes.

"how so?" he gazes down at your wide eyes, tears glistening on your lower lashline and mouth slightly agape in wonder. you look unbelievably beautiful, even in your sadness.

"by doing this," he leans down, kissing you deeply. you immediately respond, reveling in the sweet, familiar taste of the raspberry-flavored chapstick smeared across his lips. you don't taste it for long as his lips move to your neck, hands slithering down your body to yank at the sleep shorts sitting on your hips. once they're down, he leans back, throwing your legs over his shoulders as his lips press onto your groin through your underwear. you gasp at the feeling, warmth pooling in your gut. he smirks, hands gripping the soft flesh of your thighs.

"and what exactly is this?" you're breathless as this point, face warm and legs borderline trembling as his face sits so close to your crotch.

"the physical act of love," his eyebrows wiggle seductively, and neither of you can keep your laughs in. even when he presses another kiss to your clothed area, you'll both always find humor in the love you share together. and gojo had missed seeing you laugh with his head between your legs. he was planning on imprinting the entire night into his brain after it was over.

[youwontlikethisblog]

Freddy and Aura Maria.

While Aura Maria and Freddy have continued to be on the outs of their "relationship" Betty and Armando have just barely started setting ground on their feelings and such.

However this post is for Freddy and Aura Maria.

In my last post I talked about how Freddy takes on the role of Betty in his relationship with Aura Maria and how Aura Maria takes the role of Armando and how they all share similar traits as characters.

The things that make them opposite are for example, Freddy is very confident and extroverted while Betty is very timid and insecure. Armando is is mostly always angry and on a bad mood while Aura Maria seems to always be cheerful and in a good mood. While Betty has a lot of degrees and a good job Freddy doesn't have a high education and his job isn't something people aspire to have. While Aura Maria is a receptionist Armando is a partial owner of a multi-million company.

This episode takes place on the night of Betty's Birthday.

Just like the previous time that Freddy and Aura Maria had a moment of romance, this night will be similar. Aura Maria has been hurt, has been angry, and has been jealous over Freddy's flirtatious friendship with Jasmine, who takes on the role of someone he cares for but not to the point that he does for Aura Maria.

Freddy too has been hurt but when Aura Maria has needed him most he has step aside from his own ego and helped her out, though he did resume to it.

While at Betty's house she tries to talk with Freddy and she tries to get his attention, just like she normally does at the office but Freddy' sticks to his vow of silence.

Last time Aura Maria made him pick between Jasmine and her, the same night that Armando had to choose between Betty and Marcela(by this I mean in a symbolic way. Marcela had forced him to choose between Claudia Boche and Betty. When Hugo finally agreed to fire Claudia Boche, Marcela was still upset because the head she really wanted was Betty's and when Armando let Betty into the launch he went over Marcela's order and her and when he insisted they stay after the event, even when Marcela once more went to kick them out, he chose Betty instead of Marcela's desires.) and Freddy chose her. However things the next day didn't go as planned.

While Armando was arming himself with "courage" to make Betty fall in love with him, Aura Maria was sneaking around behind Freddy's back who thought they were now serious.

Since then Freddy and Aura Maria have been on a rocky path. Days later he found out about Aura Maria being out with another man and has been giving her the cold shoulder since then and Aura Maria has been trying to get him to forgive her.

Aura Maria is very immature and she lets all her attention and desires be guided by the heat of the moment. She doesn't really care for consequence; she almost got fired for that exact reason and if it hadn't been because of Freddy she would have ended up with no job.

Freddy always covers her back and he's always rescuing her from bad situations, just like Betty does with Armando and Aura Maria takes all of that for granted, just like Armando with Betty.

However this night all of that is about to change.

Aura Maria asks Freddy to take her out and because his partner in crime is drunk he decides that he can't let Aura Maria on her own and he drives her straight home, however Aura Maria asks him to take her out and they do.

Aura Maria questions Freddy about all his affection in the past and the jealousy fits he'd cause because of her other boyfriends while Freddy revs his motorcycle as a response to her, Aura Maria tells him if all of that wasn't a lie for him to take her anywhere he wanted.

Aura Maria, though understandable that she wants a economically secure future for her son and herself, devalues and throws away all of Freddy's efforts and affection and it isn't just motivated by the economic state of Freddy's wallet but more.

She once told Marcela that she knew she was beautiful and desired by many men who were better than Freddy and who had money. There's two reasons why she won't date Freddy and that's because both physically and financially she isn't vibing with him. Sound familiar?

Obviously to some degree Aura Maria is attracted to Freddy but not enough to actively desire him. It isn't until Freddy tells her that with her he experiences heaven that Aura Maria sleeps with him because unlike all the other men before, her emotional attraction to him is more than just fleeting. She becomes possessive of Freddy's emotional attributes and because he makes her feel good about herself and boost her ego, she feels that Freddy owes her that affection so when she sees him give that to Jasmine, she feels that he doesn't care about her and her ego plummets. Does this sound familiar?

Much like Armando, Aura Maria doesn't value the efforts that Freddy has shown to her. It isn't until it seems to be too late that she finally does and much like the first night they spent together, which was the night that Armando realized he felt more than just an appreciation for Betty(You Are The Spirit Of This Launch post), Aura Maria this night will once again have to face the reality that what she feels for Freddy is more than just a crush.

Freddy however sticks to his guns. He continues to give her the cold shoulder.

Freddy takes Aura Maria to a club. Freddy's behavior is his revenge against her. He throws a jab at her by saying "She can order whatever she wants since she's never considered what I want."

This is very similar to Betty's revenge against Armando in the future.

Freddy's revenge is done by removing his affection from Aura Maria, only showing it when it's really needed but as soon as that moment is gone he takes it back. He parades his affections towards others in front of her, which makes Aura Maria doubtful and question if Freddy ever really cared about her.

Even when they dance at the club Freddy doesn't dance with her and when he finally drops her off he continues with the silent treatment.

The next day when Betty and Aura Maria meet in front of Eco Moda, when Betty asks her how her night went she said that it was terrible and like she had spent the night with a robot.

It's funny to see the reversal of these two couples. The first time, when Aura Maria and Freddy hooked up for the first time, Armando and Betty were just about to start, however Armando was still in denial and cold towards Betty in a romantic way(I've got a lot of post talking about them).

In a play by play that night while Armando was being forced to face his true feelings towards Betty, Aura Maria was too being forced to face the reality of losing Freddy.

Here Jasmine and Nicolas symbolize their truest fear: Losing someone that is important to them to somebody that could be better than them.

Freddy and Betty are the objects of disdain of the romantic kind on a normal day but this night they become the object of securing. Both Aura Maria and Armando struggle with this realization, that soon they could lose a person that they simply know holds a lot of significance. It isn't based on love but an object possession that they feel over them.

This night both for Freddy and Betty was the same. They went to work, they did what they were supposed to do, they enjoyed the perks of the night and while Jasmine wanted her heart to be lifted when she failed at her one attempt to walk a runway, Nicolas, a friend of Betty's, stood outside waiting for her impatiently so that he told the doorman he was Betty's boyfriend so they could let him in.

While Armando spent a day of torment in his own confusion and feelings as well as denial, Aura Maria witnessed how loyal and how much he[Freddy] is willing to do for the woman he cares for. In the same vain that Armando realized that if Betty was that special with him, when he was simply her boss, how much more special could she be to someone who is her romantic partner? Aura Maria too had to face that reality. They both had the same motive while one is clear as day the other is disguised under something else.

The parallel that these two relationships have is that one is clear as day in regards of intentions while the other is a labyrinth of intentions.

The night when Betty and Armando have relations for their first time, parallels to Freddy's and Aura Maria's first time. Just as Aura Maria finally allows herself to feel what she feels for Freddy when he tells her that with her he touches the heavens, Armando allows himself to feel what he feels for Betty when she finally lets him and shows him he much she loves him, not with affection but by simply respecting his desires.

While Freddy has always pinned over Aura Maria and been open about his desire for her, the same way Betty has towards Armando, they both get their biggest dream made reality. However it's contradicting to them this night.

This night when B+A are out there sinning, Freddy and Aura Maria are having a horrible night.

Freddy has removed his love and affection from Aura Maria, simply behaving as a robot, as she says the next day, while Aura Maria is now being heavy in her attempts to conquest Freddy. This time Freddy doesn't fall for her tactics like he did the night of the launch.

I mean it makes sense that he wouldn't. I agree that people should never feel possessive of another person, be it romantic or platonic. People are not something you posses or belong to you. They don't owe you anything.

Freddy, though possessive at the start, never really acted out in jealousy or anger towards Aura Maria. He knew that he gave her his heart, in limited ways because that's how she wanted it, but he wasn't shy to show her how much she meant to him, however that comes to an end when Aura Maria is discovered to be unfaithful.

Though as an audience we understand that what Aura Maria wanted was a no strings attach(friends with benefits) with Freddy, if we're being honest, it's really unjustifiable what Aura Maria did.

Let's consider this relationship in the basic elements.

Freddy tries to flirt with Aura, who ignores any advance he makes towards her unless it benefits her. For example: Freddy skipping his lunch and asking to borrow money so that Aura can eat. Aura only flirting with Freddy when she needs something from him but always ignoring him and disregarding him when he makes any advances towards her that don't strictly benefit her.

Essentially what Aura does with Freddy is feed his illusion of love. She gives him the right amount of attention and affection when she needs something which translates to Freddy as "she cares about me, why else would she flirt with me?" However she also gives him the right amount of indifference, one that makes him stop in the moment but doesn't completely discourage his future efforts.

Was Freddy crossing lines? Not really. He wasn't shy to share what his true intentions were and whenever Aura told him to stop he withdrew his affection, without removing his feelings for her. Yes men should respect when we say no. However notice again how Aura encourages or even makes the effort to flirt with Freddy only when it strictly benefits her.

However she makes it pretty clear that for her, Freddy is a last option, a final thought if you will.

What does any of this have to do with the night of Betty's party?

For starters the roles are now reversed. While Aura Maria is now the one begging Freddy for an ounce of affection, Freddy is now being cold towards her, except that while Aura does this for the simple fact that she wants Freddy to pay attention to her in her possessive terms, Freddy is doing so because he is hurt and he no longer wants to be played with.

He is justified in his actions, though they are petty/immature, he believes that Aura doesn't really care about him.

Again this parallels to the future of B+A.

The next days at the office Freddy continues this cold shoulder of his towards Aura Maria. He continues to ignore her and to speak to her only through Wilson and only work related topics.

Jasmine again has squeezed herself between them.

I think it's so interesting to note a phrase that Freddy used at the start of his flirtatious "friendship" with Jasmine when Aura Maria asked him if he was going to participate in Sofia's plan to prove that Jasmine was a hoe by making her "fall" in love with Freddy that way she cheated on Sofia's husband. Freddy told her something along the lines of "I am going to help her[Sofia] but by my own merits because I can't miss the opportunity for someone to love me for real."

The reason this holds such an impactful and important meaning in the future is because he told this to Aura Maria before the night that Eco Moda had the new collection launch event and when she saw that Freddy could possibly fall in love with Jasmine, for her sake, her ego, she went and got in the way of said possibility and ironically as Armando told Mario that day it was to save the object of their affection from someone who would just take advantage of them while they were doing the same thing they were trying to prevent.

Aura Maria got in the way of Freddy's love life, interrupting it so she wouldn't lose him, not for love, but simply for her ego. This night however, Aura Maria has been forced to face her feelings.

As she now sees how badly she hurt Freddy. How hurt he was because though to her Freddy was simply just a work friend who she wanted to fool with, to Freddy Aura Maria was someone he wanted to commit to and consciously made the decision to love her. Despiste her rudeness, dismissal of his feelings, and even to some degree her gaslighting him, he still chose to love her. His love for her has always been true and faithful. As he said he wanted to take care of her and her son, he wanted to be part of their lives and be responsible for them but Aura Maria always dismissed this.

Why did she? Well in the introduction post I made for them I went into a more detailed explanation. Simply put a man can be ugly and because he has money(or a good personality but the first is more realistic) will still find love however an attractive guy who is poor can still be treated like a "ugly" woman does in society(tho not as harsh if we're being honest). Aura Maria places economic comfort above love and her ego above both.

Days later while Armando and Betty are dealing with the whole AA drama Freddy and Aura are dealing with their own drama. They are both trying to make each other jealous, saying they've got plans, dates, etc for the night with other people at the end of the night while A+B are being open about their feelings, Freddy and Aura Maria experience their true feelings and finally Freddy forgives Aura

However, while the next day Betty finds the letter and her revenge is played out, Freddy and Aura Maria start their honey moon phase, though they still fight and whatnot, they still become a couple.

It's interesting to see just how linked their relationships are.

While Aura and Armando basically go through the same changes and experiences, Betty and Freddy go through different processes and changes.

This is a post that is separate from this weeks post and has been sitting in my drafts for a few weeks now. Finally decided to edit it and post it.

Hope y'all enjoy it, til next time!