#said he would turn me to gold with his midas touch to kill me

[road-kill-eater]

i could not be a guy dealing with a mind consuming monster transformation curse deal. i would not fight it i would descend right into that fate within the first hour id never turn back no one would ever see my true face again id live in the woods forever

[lordicusyay]

Greek mythology dashboard simulator!!

🏹 best-sworn-maiden Follow

Someone please tell Apollo to stop falling in love with people that don't want him it's getting really unhealthy

💀kingoftheunderworld Follow

Real he asked me to make him mortal after the Hyacinthus incident so he could die.

☀️ApolloCoolestSunGod Follow

Why do you guys hate gay people

2,134 notes

💗alrightyAphrodite Follow

Y'all this guy has no clue Helen of Troy is married what an idiot

506 notes

🤑 Midas-touch Follow

Sure do hope that my wife and kids are immune to being turned to gold by my super cool new gold touch!

🤑 Midas-touch Follow

What have I done.

🍇 Satyr-King Follow

You’re welcome

570 notes

🩸Feministwarrior Follow

I sure am devoured on by women

6,768 notes

🦚 I-hate-my-kids Follow

I think I should kill my husband

🦚 I-hate-my-kids Follow

Update: I’m going to kill his kids instead

12 notes

☠️ ZigZag Follow

Hypnos just said ‘sleep is the only thing I believe is real’ he would do numbers on here

1,201 notes

Will probably make another one of these!

[free-for-all-fics]

Random thoughts and prompts/Ideas for Gold Watchers from Dark Deception because I love these video game enemies and the level setting and I think they’re underrated. I wish there was more fics for them. Pls tag me if you write anything inspired by these 💜

1. Since all the Gold Watchers in Deadly Decadence are men, what if there was a lady/female gold statue among them in the manor? A beautiful golden noblewoman who wears the most magnificent gowns and opulent jewelry fit for a princess or higher status. Maybe the Gold Watchers take turns to share in her love and attentions like a poly romantic relationship sorta? Maybe she’d participate in their sadistic games of murder or gleeful axe swinging? But perhaps she’d use a different kind of blade, like a sword or daggers? I dunno! I’ve just been thinking about this since discovering the game. In the update, it’s shown that the gold watchers keep creating more of themselves and there’s a giant Titan watcher outside too. So what if it was like a weird Frankenstein type thing where they created a woman? (Sort of inspired by fanart I saw of a character called Duchess Rose-Mary)

2. Dark beauty and the beast type situation but instead it’s reader being held captive in the Deadly Decadence manor by the gold watchers who are obsessively in love with her, in part because she’s so beautiful and they don’t think mere mortals deserve to behold her. They keep killing mortals who enter the manor and there’s the giant Titan Watcher outside too so any chance of rescue or escape is slim to none.

3. “The real treasure is the friends you made along the way” The scroll reads. You grumble and turn to show the rest of your team only to find they’ve all been turned into statues of gold.

4. “Do I look like I’m made of money?”

“….. Have you looked in a mirror? You’re a SOLID GOLD talking statue!”

5. The golden statue had seen wars, romance, famine, and wealth. It had always been content with its lot in life, unmoving and hard. However, now, a flower bloomed but a step away, and it wanted nothing more than to touch that flower and experience its gentle beauty for itself. (Perhaps the “flower” is the reader? Or could be a literal flower)

6. A weird statue shows up in the local museum. The inscriptions found with it translate to, “Maddened by greed, we sealed him. Be warned, he will awaken to kill you.”

7. When the palace was cursed, everyone began to turn to gold. To save you, they gave you the elixir of immortality. After watching the kingdom fall to ruin, you wander the palace alone. Guarding your true love’s statue from the elements and anyone who trespasses to find immortality or steal the soul shards.

8. A statue falls in love with a girl he cannot speak to.

9. You were born with literal components of figurative idioms - a silver tongue, a heart of gold, nerves of steel, an iron stomach, green thumbs, etc. You’re on the search to find the source of your affliction and the reason why it happened.

10. Midas sobbed as he clung to his wife, now transformed into gold. Then she embraced him back. “I’m sorry, my love. Gold is a little harder to move than flesh, but I figured it out.”

11. “Just because I turned her to gold doesn’t mean I can change her back. If I could, then I could turn ANY gold into her, and that would be infinitely more tragic.”

12. People always said you had a heart of gold. Today the doctors confirmed that this is literally the case. They weren’t sure how it happened but they’re pretty sure it’s terminal.

13. While preparing dinner, your new partner cuts themself on a kitchen knife. Their blood drips gold.

14. You have the breathtaking power to turn anything you touch into pure gold. The only requirement to succeed doing so is that you need to hold your breath until the transformation is complete. If your ability is ever interrupted, you slowly start turning into gold yourself.

15. She was cursed to laugh silver and weep gold, so that her sorrow would always be worth more than her joy.

16. Your baby is born with golden eyes. Everyone tells you to kill it, but you refuse. Everyone avoids you and your family. It isn’t until today you find out why everyone is so terrified.

17. Within decrepit halls of the golden castle walls, you find yourself nearing the treasure room. All that pain, that struggle, all that loss - finally going to be worth something. In the doorway you stand tall, only to find a room full of nothing. The room is completely whitewashed.

18. You have the golden touch, but instead it turns gold things into human flesh.

[meowthefluffy]

Hi! I just wanted to ask about your superhero au thing! I just saw some art for it and I was wondering if there was a storyline to go with it? If not, could you tell me about it? Whatever you want to tell me. I just want to know more!!!

Oh my dear there is so much story!!! Like you have no idea what floodgates you have just opened!!!

It took me multiple days to write this response because I kept getting excited and going on tangents and then editing them out, but let’s go through the premise  first and then I’ll explain the characters. 

Premise: 

So in this world lots of people have superpowers, and said superpowers are given out by the Greek gods who will “sponsor” a hero or villain’s career and be the source of their power.

Virgil is a superhero and Roman is his supervillain, but when they aren’t fighting each-other the two are best friends and also crushing on each-other HARD, shenanigans ensue!( note they don’t know each other’s secret identities)

(character descriptions under cut)

Virgil/ Fear monger :

Sponsored by Pan

Virgil is a super hero with a relatively very villainous power set that he has to actively fight against to use for good. Virgil can inflict severe terror and nightmarish visions upon anyone who makes eye contact with him while using his powers, one side effect of said power is summoning large swaths of brambles and sharp vines. Virgil uses this “side effect “ as his main ability and refuses to use his fear powers for anything because they are too cruel for his taste. (Thus the blindfold in his hero design)

He’s been rivals with Golden-boy since they were both sidekicks so the two have a lot of history. Basically to a point where they consider each-other friends, or at least Virgil hopes they are (they’ve never actually talked about it)

In his civilian form Virgil is the child of two very wealthy businesses people and goes to a fancy private school. He’s got a lot a familial pressure put on him and fighting crime is his main outlet. Virgil is pretty popular at school but I the way where like everyone knows him but no one really KNOWS him ya dig? So he really laches onto Roman when he starts going to his school because Roman’s the first person to ever really see him.

Roman/ Golden boy:

Sponsored by Dionysius(but only through his old boss not directly)

Roman is the super villain Golden-boy! He used to be the one of the main minions of the supervillain King Midas, but king Midas perished and now he’s trying to make it one his own as a big time villain. 

His power set is that he can turn anything he touches into fools gold temporarily, he doesn’t use this power super often tho cause it’s pretty destructive and he just likes causing mischief. Instead he uses the winged sandals he wears to be a kinda speedster type 

In his civilian form Roman is a very poor kid who live much closer to the “bad side” of town. He lives with his sole caretaker Remus (who is like 10 years older than him in this au) and is generally not super well liked at school. He’s struggling with an illness he refuses to disclose with Virgil that means he misses a lot of school and is frequently bedridden. 

(His “illness “ is actually not anything cure-able by modern doctors. Roman actually has a curse that he obtained via King Midas’s experiments to create gold that would be permanent. Roman is slowly turning to gold, and said process is slowly killing him. He has told no one about this)

Here’s a crush equation 

❤️=crush

👍= besties 

Roman ❤️——> Virgil 

Roman 👍———-> Fear Monger 

Virgil ❤️———-> golden boy

Virgil👍————->Roman 

The other sides are this au too but that’s even more stuff and this post is long enough 😅 I’m sorry this took so long to write!!!

[razzithold]

I've been running a homebrew dnd game lately using an alternate timeline of my main game setting and I've figured out two main ways to deal with overpowered players who all but one shot the big boss enemies: make the boss hit HARD, and make the point not about fighting the bosses anymore, but about dealing with the far reaching consequences of that boss's influence. I want my players to care about the world they're in and the people they meet.

Sure, my players nearly killed my planned big boss fight in one round, but that fight itself was just the beginning. Now? Now they're seeing how far that baddy's reach went in this city. Said baddy was a vampire mob boss with the midas touch who ran an extensive trafficking network, and the fight with him was honestly pathetic because he's a coward who tried to get out of dying by surrendering. They were able to interrogate him and discovered a way to reverse the vampirism he caused through blood magic. The vampire boss is dead, but his lackeys are still out there, hiding and regrouping.

First the party ran into a rogue death knight that was once under the vampire's control but has since gone AWOL attacking innocents, and to make that death knight actually a challenge to my overpowered as shit level 6 players I had it sacrifice itself with its big necrotic hellfire attack in hopes of it taking down the party with it. It hit hard, 20d6 of damage, actually nearly killed two players, if it had just a few more points of damage they would have died instantly.

The party was able to survive that, and in surviving they met a group of down on their luck npcs that were victims of the vampire and death knight. They found a timid little dhampir girl being raised by a barkeep dwarf, and the dwarf reveals to them the poor little dhampir is a result of that now dead vampire having his way with a woman in this part of town. If the party didn't hate that vampire's sleazy golden ass before, they Definitely hated him now.

The party went to the vampire's foreclosed estate to find seven vampire spawn guarding it who attacked the party. The party were able to intimidate the vamp spawns into surrendering and used their newfound spell to reverse the vampirism, and discovered these people were taken advantage of by the dead vamp boss because he lied about saving them from their plight and turned them undead instead.

I was able to get my players, who had already killed the vampire boss of this arc, to hate that bastard so much they want to drag his soul out of hell and kill him again for the suffering he's caused. One of my players was on the verge of tears when I described the little dhampir girl and the adopted dwarf dad's story. I got to elicit emotion for the scenes I set and that makes it so worthwhile for me as a DM/GM. And most of my game is improv DMing!

This party's not made of murder hobos, they've grown to care about helping the people of the city they're in, and hearing the description I've made of the conditions in this city pull at my player's heartstrings. One player gave that dwarf barkeep 5 platinum coins and another gave him 250 gold to help him pay for his business and all the damages caused by the death Knight's explosion. Usually I see players hoard their gold and be Hella stingy with it, but not these players, they cared about the npcs and wanted to build positive relationships with the world around them.

It warms my cheesy little heart to know I've created a world that my players grow to care about and enjoy, a world where my players want to stay beyond our usual allotted game time to play for more, because they're invested and enthralled in the intrigue. My players even if initially are not immersed have become entrenched in the setting I've made and find joy in learning more about it - one player who is usually very quiet and detached has had his PC join a law school within the setting so that he can help all these people in the game he meets by helping them write up a class action lawsuit. And doing so is engaging this player more, he's more willing to talk and interact with npcs, now that he's more a part of the world. Meeting new npcs and hearing their plights has him jotting down notes and asking the npcs for more information so that he can offer to help them sue the nobles encroaching on them.

Another player, who is playing an alien sent down to conquer earth invader Zim style, has defected from his prime directive and is helping this city bolster its defenses against his own people now. He was originally here to conquer the city, and is now an ally to the queen. He's helping invent an air filtration system to solve the city's smog problem. He's given me the plot hook of his people sending lackeys to retrieve him, and the hook of him helping the inhabitants of the city and learning it's culture.

Still another player worked with me to create a spy for the queen that is borne of the lore of this city. I love when players work with me as the DM to weave the characters into the world.

Are my players overpowered as shit because I let them use an anime 5e supplemental book? Yes absolutely. I mean they took down a death knight in two rounds at level 6! Death Knights are supposed to be a combat rating of 17! Combat rating is a lie, if your players can do 10+ damage in one attack, give your enemies more hp.

Weave your party into your world and give them a compelling scene and they will care about the world their characters live in, whether that be caring to help or caring to hurt the world they live in. Also helps if your group meshes well together, good group chemistry makes the game run way smoother.

Thank you for coming to my 4am ramblings about my ttrpg games I run, they're so much fun to play!

[coutelier]

Irongate - Sayuri

~ A 700 or so word excerpt. ~

“Kaya!” Sayuri pulled up and hopped out.

Kaya squinted up at her like she were some creature made of pure light, then beamed, “Hey Say!” The joy, however, shifted quickly into sullen muttering, “oh, but, y-you shouldn’t have found me. I’m… I’m bad.”

Kneeling beside her Sayuri asked, “what happened? The cops are out looking for you.”

“You wouldn’t believe me. No-one would. Not even ‘the witch’ would, and she’s got a freaking fish Martian in her home.”

Clearly she was drunk and not making a lot of sense right now, and wasn’t likely to improve if left out on her own. “My horoscope today said ‘kindness to a stranger will be the start of a new friendship’. Since that obviously isn’t happening you might as well try me,” Sayuri put a reassuring hand on her. “Hey, I’m the type of person who reads horoscopes, so whatever it is-“

“It was a faerie.”

“Uh-huh,” Sayuri slowly nodded, it taking effort to not let on how crazy that sounded. “A fairy.”

“No. Faerie. With an e.”

“Sure.”

“See? Knew you wouldn’t believe it. For the best anyway - you should just leave me. I’m like that guy. You know - the one who everything he touched turned to gold.”

“King Midas.”

“Right. Only everything I touch turns to shit. I’m cursed. Just leave me here.”

“No, no, no. See?” Sayuri grasped her hand, holding it close to her sternum. “We’ve just got to get you sober then we can talk and we’ll figure this all out, okay?”

Kaya turned slightly, soft eyes looking straight into Sayuri’s while her other arm reached over to grasp her neck, Sayuri pausing her breath as she was pulled close. Kaya then slurred in her ear, “you are a really good friend.”

With a shaky sigh Sayuri breathed once more, her blush fading. “Yeah. Lets get you up.”

Although Kaya didn’t resist Sayuri’s attempts to move her, she didn’t exactly help either. She was dead weight. With determination and effort Sayuri could get her into the car, but the longer they were outside the more chance there was of the police happening by.

A young wearing round sunglasses came out of B-Naturals, locking it behind him. He saw there was something happening so stepped closer for a lock. “What the hell,” he gasped, “Cade?

“Oh,” Kaya weakly put a hand up, “hey Neil.”

Neil shook, sucking in his cheeks. Sayuri saw he had reached for a phone, quickly dropping Kaya in order to obstruct him. “Hey, hey, woah - what are you doing?”

“Calling the cops. You heard about the killings, right?”

“Come on. She’s a punk a little bit oblivious and stupid, but you don’t think she’d actually murder anyone? Look at her - she’s obviously been through something traumatic. Let’s get her clearheaded before calling anyone.”

“Hey Neil,” Kaya attempted to get and immediately fell back down. She carried on anyway, “since you’re not my boss anymore there’s something I’ve gotta tell you. Those glasses? They don’t make you look cool. You’re not John Lennon. You’re more like John Lame-man,” she snorted to herself, sinking lower and lower.

“Well,” Neil sighed, “obviously she’s confused. Don’t know what you expect to be able to do about it.”

“I don’t know,” Sayuri hadn’t really come out with a plan; she was just improvising. Before she could decided the rest she need Kaya to start making sense. “She was rambling about fairies and curses, so maybe we take her to Madame Lumina; get her to sprinkle some fairy dust, cast a protection spell. Maybe then she’ll start talking sense.”

Neil looked askew at her, “you don’t really believe that nonsense, do you?”

“It doesn’t matter if we believe it so long as she does. Or doesn’t. The placebo effect is real, and right now I don’t anything better, so,” she brushed a strand of her behind her, looking demurely at Neil. It was completely dishonest but she needed an extra pair of hands. “You’ve finished for the day, right? Will you help?”

It was effective, Neil reluctantly saying ‘fine’ and helping Sayuri load Kaya into the car. As they drove away a trio of children stood on the corner as they turned rotated their heads like dolls whose actions were timed and in synch, watching them go.

[weemsbotts]

Thirst for Vengeance or Gold? The Strange History of a PWC 1874 Murder

By: Lisa Timmerman, Executive Director

“Like golden autumn leaves, treasures lies heavy on Virginia.” Charles A. Mills published a small book in 1984 titled “Treasure Legends of Virginia” that identified possible locations rumored to have buried treasure, whether from pirates, indigenous persons, or Civil War soldiers. Interestingly, he included the murder of Jeremiah Herndon:

“In Prince William County stands the foundation of Fairview, once the home of the miser Jeremiah Herndon. Stories lingering about Fairview have to do with the mistreatment of Herndon of his six sons and his few slaves. It seems that his sons were never allowed to know their own ages and were kept illiterate so Herndon could get several years of additional labor out of them after they converted his profits into gold and hid them securely until 1872 when an ex-slave, who had little love for the family, discovered the hiding place, killed Herndon and his wife, and made away with the cherished possessions of the Midas of Prince William County. When the ex-slave spent some of the gold, however he was caught and was tried and hung in Brentsville. Various excavations still visible in the basement of the house are explained by the accepted belief that Herndon had hidden more gold than was discovered by his murderer.”

According to The Alexandria Gazette’s 12/04/1874 editors, “It was reported this evening that Jerry Herndon, his wife, and a colored man, a servant, were all found in the house of Mr. H. about five miles below Brentsville, Prince William County, this morning Mrs. H. and the colored man dead, and Mr. H. in a dying condition, all having been cut with an axe by some party or parties unknown.” Is this the same Jeremiah Herndon? And was his murder extending from a case of buried treasure?

(Source: Library of Congress, The American atlas, exhibiting the post offices, post roads, rail roads, canals, and the physical & political divisions of the United States of North America (by John Arrowsmith, 1839 via Virginia Places, http://www.virginiaplaces.org/vacount/prwillco.html)

The murder of Jeremiah Herndon, Sinah Herndon, and Addison Russell on 12/03/1874 went to court on 12/08/1874 charging Jesse Fouks for the crime. Transcribed testimonies provided by Historian Ron Turner, point to the gruesome details. Summerfield Herndon, Jeremiah’s son, testified,

“On the morning of the 4th of December 1874 found no body stirring about, discovered blood on the porch, went half way on the porch looked in the room and saw the body of Addison Russell dead on the floor and the floor all covered with blood and an axe lying on the floor all covered with blood. Also found Mrs. Herndon lying dreadfully mangled but not quite dead. A boy about eighteen years old named Jessie Fouks who had been living with my father was not to be found. He and my father had some difficulty a few days before.”

 Justice of the Peace M.W. Horton recorded Herndon’s dying declaration:

Question - Mr. Herndon tell us all about this difficulty.

Answer - I had been to Bristoe Station on Thursday got back about 3 quarters of an hour of seven in the evening was eating my supper when Jesse came in commenced abusing my wife about a piece of meat. Said he had plenty of money to bear him out. I told him he had said five times as much as negro ought to say to a white person and to get out, he then turned around and went out quarreling. I told Add to go out and hear what he said. Add came in saying that Jesse said if we would say no more about the meat he would not. I made no answer.

Jesse came in again about an hour & a half after daylight - Down and said he wanted his handchf. I told him it was in the meat house & would have to stay until morning. He commenced jawing & said maybe it was his meat. I told him to go out. My wife touched me and said that he would not go out. I picked up the axe & told him to go or I would split him down.

Question - Did Jesse strike you

Answer - He never struck me that I know of

Question - Did he strike Mrs. Herndon

Answer - Not that I know of

Question - Where was Add

Answer - He was lying on the floor nothing the matter with him

Question - Did you take a seat at the fire

Answer -  I think I did

Question -  Did you go out of the house

Answer - Have recollection of doing so

Question - Do you recollect anything about your money.

Answer - I had the key after I came back that evening and the money was there.

Question - Do you know whether Summer was gone

Answer - Do not recollect but think he was

Question - Did you go to the barn after you came home

Answer - I think I did

Question - Did you see Jesse there

Answer - I have no recollection of seeing him.

Question - Do you recollect giving Summer the basket of corn in yard.

Answer - O yes I do when he was going home in the evening.”

Horton also recorded Sinah Herndon’s dying declaration:

“Question - Will you tell us who hurt you

Answer - Yes God knows I will tell you all about it and I won't tell you a lie about it. On Thursday evening I sent Addison Russell in the kitchen after a basket and in it was a piece of meat Add said it belonged to us.

Question - Where was the boy Jesse

Answer - He was at Fairview

Question - What happened next

Answer - Jesse came in & swore that we had his meat. I told him I knew it to be Mr. Herndons meat. He charged on Mr. Herndon & they came very near to a fight. Mr. Herndon had the axe. I ran between them & pushed Mr. Herndon back telling him not to strike there would be murder done. Shoved the boy out of doors & put the stick against the door as I suppose.

Question - Did Jesse strike you

Answer - If he did I do not know it

Question - Did Jesse raise any weapon against you

Answer - He raised a stick or something and swore he would kill us he did not mind killing two such dammed old people as us. I told him to go away the law would protect us.

Question - Did Mr. Herndon raise anything against you or strike you

Answer - Mr. Herndon has struck me but God knows he did not that night and I won't tell you a lie about it.

Question - Did anyone else come in the room

Answer No one came in

Question - Where was Summer Herndon

Answer - I do not know but if he was here you know he would not help us.”

The jury found Jesse Fouks guilty on 01/13/1875 and sentenced him to death:

“You have been tried for one of the most atrocious murders recorded in the annals of crime - An aged man and woman and an unoffending boy of your own race and colour were found dead or nearly so in that by their friends - It is true no one saw you commit the deed - In the darkness of night you invaded the home which it was duty to protect (not legible) your victims and is you thought at one blow sent them into eternity and secured your own immunity from punishment by the death of the only witnesses to the horrid deed - But murder will (not legible) and this frail old woman came back as it-were from the grave to guide the hands of justice to the true remnant where suspicion fostered upon you  ___ yourself by false and contradictory statements materially assessed the case for the prosecution and you stand before me to day under the just verdict of the jury to secure the final judgment of the law announced against those found guilty of murder in the 1st degree - The sentence of the court is that you be taken back to the jail of this county there to be confined until Friday the 19th day of March (February crossed through) next ensuing and upon that day between the hours of ten o'clock in the forenoon and two o'clock in the afternoon you are to be taken from the jail and by the sheriff of this county and hanged by the neck until you are dead...”

The case took an unexpected twist with Fouk’s confession and his attorney’s suspicious death. According to Turner, James E. Williams, a former Confederate Army Captain, was found dead due to “intemperance and exposure” just outside Brentsville.

“Jesse was in jail, awaiting his sentence, when he made an escape from his cell to an adjacent passageway, where there was nothing to prevent the escape except an unlocked iron grated door. The jailor’s wife saw him flee in the direction that his sister lived at the Orear property. The jailor and others gave chase and eventually found him hiding in a straw rick about five miles from Brentsville. On being re-captured, Fouks declared again that he didn’t commit the crime but that he knew who did. He told the jailor and others that “a colored man by the name of Willis Tebbs” was the person who killed the Herndons and Addison Russell. According to records, a warrant was issued for Tebbs; however, before the warrant could be served, Fouks recanted his story and confessed that he committed the crimes...

The following is a list of payments made by the county with regard to the Jesse Fouks’ hanging. The cost of the hanging was $67.63 cents. Of this amount, the hangman received $5.00; the coffin cost $4.00; building the scaffold, $12.00; a shroud for Jesse, $4.00; digging the grave and taking Fouks to grave, $2.50; making clothing and rope for the hanging, $6.13; plank to cover coffin, $1.00; 16 colored guards at the hanging, $16.00; and 17 white guards at the hanging, $17.00.”

As Turner pointed in his analysis of the case, there were several issues. First, presumption and bias. Officials initially suspected Summerfield of the murders although this rapidly changed. Deathbed interrogations indicated the strained relationship in the family, and neither victim identified Fouks as the perpetrator. There were only a few solid facts to the case – the Herndon’s were brutally attacked, and all three victims died from the assault by axe. Bloody prints on the axe and money box, along with a few missing gold coins, were all attributed to Fouks without clear reasoning.  

While the treasure lore keeps the very probable injustice in our shared historic memory, attributing the murder to mostly treasure significantly underestimates the many forces at play in Virginia during the 1870s. While the Civil War was over, the hatred extending from the conflict was not and racism surely contributed to Fouks arrest. It also points to intriguing questions, such as the claim of illiteracy. Where did this specific claim come from? Did the lore start when people noted there was mention of a money box and gold coins? Was something presumably common, such as storing coin in your house, even “enough” to label it as a supposed treasure? Thanks to digitization from newspapers, transcribed and accessible court records, historians on the hunt for accuracy, and folklore, we can continue to delve into Virginia’s past and attempt to sort the bias, presumptions, and stereotypes that can quagmire our records and interpretations.

Thanks to Ronald Ray Turner for the many accessible digital and printed PWC court records. His quote “History Not Shared is History Lost!” is a driving motivation for us historians to convey accurate records and interpretations!

Note: Enjoy the blog? Consider becoming a member of Historic Dumfries Virginia to help us continue this work and all our varied and engaging programs! This Saturday, 11/05, we our having our free virtual November Member Cookie Swap, where we will discuss historic recipes and baking and share a few of our favorite classics! You do not have to be a member to join and there is no pressure or commitment! All participants will receive the recipes with the emails used to register for the free Eventbrite ticket here. Stop by and say hi!

(Sources: Mills, Charles A. Treasure Legends of Virginia. Nokesville: Apple Cheeks Press, 1984; Alexandria Gazette. 12/04/1874, Vol. LXXV. No. 303; Turner, Ronald Ray. Jesse Fouks. 2004 via Historic Prince William, https://historicprincewilliam.org/pwcvirginia/pwcvabookspublishedworks.htm)

[sparkbeast20]

You’re my Treasure (Mammon X MC) Pt11

The Blue Lotus petals (series)

As a fan of Beauty X Beast pairing, Showing your “true self” to Lover or (Monster Love) Tropes. I figure to make a (More Demonic Forms AU/head canon) story for each brothers. Heads up each brother’s Story is long as fuck. So, I’ll be posting them as parts and finishing one brother before moving on to the rest of them.

(spoiler for lesson 1-60)

Pt1 Pt2 Pt3 Pt4 Pt5 Pt6 Pt7 Pt8 Pt9 Pt10

Warning: Swearing, Demonic nature, Mention of blood, Past events, Unwanted hate towards a family member, and Attempted murder.

Note: I am really bad at warning.

Previously

The sound of coins being step on quietly filled the cavern, as someone pick up the old book on the ground and return back to sleep.

“So, you don’t want to control my body?” Mammon asks the beast reflected in the lake.

No....I have seen how your brothers treated you, and frankly I think you should fight back!

Mammon pouts at him, not likely the way his saying this.

“Hey! They might be a pain in the ass, but that all family are. Sure, we are at each other’s throats, but we have each others back when we need the most.” The beast huffs at that.

Name one time, you all agree to do something!

“The reaper’s cave”

Hm?

“We might not say it out loud, but we truly wanted to help Beel in anyway possible. Hell, it was a miracle that y/n was there. If was for them giving some of their candle to Beel, we would have made it a regular thing to go back to that cave for Beel.” He starts playing around with his ring, to distract himself from missing his brothers.

It seems that the human choice you out of your brothers why is that?

“y/n is not just a human! And why would you care if y/n choose me?”

I don’t know Mammon, why least you been repeating it in your head over and over causing me to wake up!

Suddenly Mammon felt a lump in his throat, he wants to respond but hesitant for a moment, then he spat it out.

“I haven’t done any of that”

Really? Let me refresh your memories

The last part the beast voice changes into his voice as he starts talking into it.

“I failed as protector and a guardian!” “They deserve better than me!” “Why they have to choose me to love” “Why settle with a weak and pathetic demon like me” “I SHOULDN’T BE SECOND OF THE AVATARS!?!”

Half way of the beast speech Mammon covered his ears, shut his eyes, and grinned his teeth with a snarl coming out of him. But he just keeps repeating his thoughts over his mind. Until Mammon scream.

“OKAY I GET IT!” he drops down it all fours as pant like he was exhausted. “I-I can’t be the demon they all want me to be”

Because you keep letting them to fill your mind with those thoughts, but what you should be doing is SHOW THEM!

Mammon looks back to the lake and asks “What do you mean?”

Kill The demon who attack our mate

“I can’t do that; the bastard knows and what I can do. Even if want to kill him, he’ll just move one location to the other”

Not unless you change into me…...

“I can’t…...” Mammon clenches his hands, digging his talons into his palms drawing blood as his body to tremble in the thought of changing back to that form the memories flood back in his mind, all the fights, the wounds which heals but the mental scars remain, and watching Levi and Asmo change right Infront of him. Their scream of agony rings in his ear as tears and blood drip down in to the ground as he starts to sob.

Are you scare after killing Basto, you’ll go and killing your brother while they’re in those forms?

Mammon quickly nods while his looking down at his bleeding hands.

You don’t have to worry about that

The beast spoke with a softer tone causing Mammon to look back at the lake.

“Wh?”

Look you and I are the same being, when I tell you that all you have to do is stay away from them for a week or two, to have better control over yourself and your instinct you might be the first one out of the seven of you to able to turn into your demonic form without the resist of killing your brothers.

Mammon is done founded about the beast just said.

“How are you sure that I can do that?”

Simple you and Asmo are the only ones that didn’t attack y/n when you get angry and threaten them. And you are the only one who never use violence against them by changing into your demon form. You might be a hothead but you never or will raise a hand to your brothers or to our mate.

Mammon is left speechless, the thing that he been scare of knows him well to the point of trusting him for being himself. He was right as much he hates being the first one to be targeting with name calling because of his sin, is not like his the only one, Asmo calling him a horn dog, Levi with his weird obsession with things and getting emotional, Beel with eating all the time, Belphie with out of nowhere naps and sleeps, Satan with his anger issues, and Lucifer being too proud for his own good.

Their demons now, is something they should be use to. But him have the most control out of the seven of them, makes him fill warm inside. That he should be proud of, and why he should let his brothers tell him that he has no self-control when anger.

But his sin oh yeah! He can’t argue with that, I mean he was willing to help Solomon to forge a pact with Lucifer for the Midas crest, and immediately takes all back when Asmo points out that once he gets the crest, he won’t able to touch you due to the crest make everything he touch turns into gold. It had to take Asmo to point it out, who just said it to openly admit that it will be less competition for him. To realize that he could have made one of his biggest mistakes of his life, for what gold!

Looking back at his hands and/or talons then his wings, looks back at his newly grown tail. It too late, he’s far along of the transformation as he his. If he agrees with the beast’s plan, its going to take some time, means that you need to go back.

“Hey, before I agree to yer plan, let me take y/n back to my brothers”

Mammon…. their better with us then back with your brothers

“Yer crazy!?! What if I kill them!”

MAMMON The last thing we want is our MATE DYING. AGAIN! I’m still a little mad at Sloth for what he did! He’s luckily that y/n forgave him, because if they didn’t rest assure, I would’ve wakened up that day!

Mammon flinch and snarl at just remember that day. Holding your past self in his arms as you choke on your blood causing Belphie. If he’s being honest with himself, sometimes he gets piss off whenever Belphie took a nap at your lap and asks pat his head like, he didn’t try to kill you long ago.

That reflex he just did, get angry when you get hurt or someone trying to hurt you. Maybe his beast does have a point.

“Okay, I’ll do it……I’ll-I’ll change, IF!! You make sure that y/n safety is my-our one goal! Go it!”

Even with a beak the beast smirk at Mammon

You have my word…… also you might feel A LOT of pain!

“Huh?...... Wh?”

Before Mammon can say anything else, he felt a pain in his abdomen, he wants to scream but he bites his lips muffling the scream. As he dug his talons into the ground dragging his hands closer to him. Then the pain slowly got worst by each heart beat and panting.

Soon the he couldn’t take it anymore and let out an agnosies scream.

Then a faith voice calls out to him.

“……Mammon…...”

“Mammon!”

Mammon wakes up from the dream by someone grooming his tail, he slowly opens his eyes and lifted up his head and let out a wake-up yawn. And turn his head to whoever is touching his tail.

His eyes narrows and he groans at the sight who it was.

“Morning Mammon, have a good night sleep” Asmo flash he cheerful smile as he fixes the feathers of his tail. “When is the last time you check your tail feathers, look at them some of them are uneven and others stuck together see….” He points at feathers with the vane split apart with dry blood.

“Oi! I didn’t have a chance to clean myself and beside y/n usually brushes and cleans my feathers so, back off” Mammon squawks at Asmo who just giggle at him.

Right, no one can hear him, well no one expect Lucifer who is close to what he is now. He just has to have you use gestures and his eyes to convey what he’s thinking.

“What a pain in the ass, ya all don’t listen to me when I was normal. Now I have to deal with this crap!?! Tch whatever, the herd must be at the lake at this time. Might as well get some food……. Oh shit! Beel’s here…. Great……”

“I know that you’re not a morning demon, so I know that your cranky. But maybe not try to be loud so you won’t wake up y/n” that snap Mammon out of his train of thought.

Surprise to what Asmo said, Mammon looked down in his arms to see your sleeping form curled up next to his chest as you nuzzle your cheek into in with a smile on your face.

He faces softens as gently rub your face with his, as a soothing cooing and purring comes off from him, causing you to let out a satisfying hum as you fall more asleep.

Then Mammon reaches out with beak for a thick fabric from the nest. Then he slowly and gently lay you on the nest and place the fabric under your head serving as a pillow as you continue to sleep.

Then he stood up leave the nest as Asmo let go of his tail and gazing at his brother’s action. Once out of the nest Mammon stretches bending down then stand back straight shake body ruffle his feathers and once finish the feathers fixes themselves as Mammon being his daily routine beginning with leaving the cave. And Asmo got up and follow his big brother.

“I-I don’t believe it. There’s no SIGNAL HERE!!!” Levi is basically reaching for the havens on top of the tree trying to get a signal for his D.D.D, but to no avail.

“Levi! Get down from there” Lucifer yells at Levi causing to flinch almost letting of the branch he was holding to keep himself balance.

From afar Satan and Belphie watches the two older brothers, with Beel who is cook breakfast inside the cave.

“Its just me or is Lucifer losing~”

“His cool? Yes, I’m all for it” Satan is gleefully smile at the sight of Lucifer completely abandoning all of his calmed and serious demeanor, for an anger, short tempered and animalistic one.

Then suddenly they heard talons being drag through rock behind them, they turn around to see Mammon walking out from the cavern and heading outside with Asmo not far behind him.

“Mammon, your awake you got to see this Lucifer is blowing a casket at Levi~” Mammon just keep on walking out ignoring Satan.

“Wait where you going? Breakfast is about to start” Beel got up from he sits next to the campfire and chase after Mammon.

Once outside, flap his wings and start flying, grabbing the attention of Lucifer and Levi.

“MAMMON!?!” Lucifer calls out to him, as he flew after him grabbing Levi’s arm towing along.

As Levi scream for help fade, Satan look at Asmo with a questionable look on his face.

“What did you do”

“Hey! Don’t look at me like that. I was just cleaning the feathers in his tail; I mean you saw him covered in blood of that bastard. You would have done the same thing” Asmo huffs and walk back inside.

“Oh, before you go, Lucifer was looking for the book that he used. Have you seen it?” but Asmo shook his head, not even looking at Satan as he went in to Help Beel with breakfast.

“Clearly one of us is lying about the book” Belphie said it looking at Satan.

“Obviously, but the question is who is lying”

[kaijurakunsobs]

Seeds

remember guys! you can ask me to tag them on future updates

Summary: The idea of a soulmate is well known, they will come to you one day, either as a lover or a friend. A single bond made of invisible thread is what will let you feel their emotions, joys and worries, to experience their pain and for them to feel yours.

But beware, for not all blessed unions are meant to be, if you were to hate and push them away, a slow death shall consume them and a garden will bloom within their chest, the flowers will fight and push to feel the sun from the outside, a poetic dead of a broken lover. A beautiful dead for your hollow existence.

You know that your mother was never a good person, or so you have been told.

Miranda meet her when she came from the city to the village, four months pregnant and with the false story of being “sick”, her sickness? She decided to cheat on her rich husband and she wanted to have you away from prying eyes and possibly abandon you here. Your birth giver was upfront about how "Having a bastard could ruin my lifestyle!", Mother Miranda smiled sweetly and had Alcina give your mother refugee and help during the birth, the Lady agreed and housed the woman.

On the night of your birth, Alcina held you in her arms, begging Miranda to let her keep you, but she denied. You were hers and hers alone.

As for your mother? Only Miranda knows what happened to her, but you suspect, that her body is buried somewhere in the forest, alone and forgotten, you couldn’t care any less.

Miranda was the one to raise you, to love you, the one who would be there when you were sick, to kiss your tears away when nightmares woke you up. She was the one to break your body apart and scream in our face how much of a failure you were, just like Alcina or Donna or those pesky lycans running amok outside, but within your failure, she saw minimal success, you were quick to learn how to care for her experiments, which were the signs of cadou rejection and how to treat it, at least, you could be useful until she placed you in the mansion the villagers were building for you.

You have seen so many people been brought to the lab, so many lives being taken for a selfish reason, that you grew numb, there was no anger or pain, you felt no grief when the test subjects saw you and begged for help, you did nothing for there was nothing inside you.

You are surprised when Miranda begins to show interest in a kid, you know he was brought here years ago and somehow had managed to survive the horrors your mother put him through. Interest grew into an obsession and then into pride, hope, you will forever remember how hard Miranda screamed when her golden child came out a failure too, cursing at the skies and asking why? He had been so close to being her perfect little boy and he turned out to be yet another fuck up.

But she doesn’t throw him away, her favoritism shows when she moved him from the medical area into a room in her private chambers, never allowing you to go close to him, slapping you and kicking up a storm whenever she saw you too close to his door, even if you were passing by. But you never resent him, you can’t hate him or her, all you can do is nod and go away.

But curiosity is something hard to get rid of, and so you waited for days almost a month until Mother left to meet up with Alcina, using the moment to sneak into his room. A beautiful room, compared to yours, he had a big bed with a canopy, the thick curtains prevent you from seeing him, it feels like a fairy tale when you part the curtain to peer inside.

Truly like a fairy tale...a beautiful boy lays there, his golden hair is going gray, probably out of stress. He has a couple of scars on his face and some new ones on his arms. You feel like reaching inside and kiss him to break the spell, but it feels...wrong, like if you could tarnish him even further by touching him, like if your mother would appear and toss you aside for laying one of your dirty hands on his skin. No matter how bad you wish to be his Knight and save him, the terror you feel over defying Mother Miranda’s orders makes you stay still.

And then, it happened.

It began as an agonizing stab in your chest, it made you trip backwards painfully slamming your head against the wall, gasping for air when the pain as a needle began to pierce through you slowly making its way to your heart, a pitiful sob left your mouth, rendering you useless while your body overcomes the initial discomfort. It takes all of your willpower to get straight and look up at the ceiling through your tears, the light it's blinding and it leaves you dizzy, almost ready to empty your stomach.

Karl Heisenberg, age eleven, lays on his luxurious-looking bed, his entire body shakes painfully, breaking through his mouth, and the fever that's racking his body is the only thing keeping him from noticing that, his soulmate is standing a couple of steps away from his bed.

But how do you even know this?

Because Miranda told you about the concept of someone blindingly loving you for all eternity, who would be your other half and the missing piece to your broken existence, Dimitrescu once said that those stories were silly little fantasies, that love should be won over and one should prove to be the right person for someone else and not just have it “hand it over”.

You used to dream of the day you would feel the connection between yourself and another person, of being able to experience their joy when their eyes fell on you. But this is far from what you wanted, what you always wished for! All you can feel is pain, radiating from so many places in your body, rendering you useless, overwhelmed with anger, grief, sorrow for “yourself”.

Everything quickly piles up, so consumed by what Karl is feeling that you don’t hear the tray that falls and the porcelain plates that shatter, you vaguely register the sting of Miranda slapping you and the distant sound of her screams.

She drags you out of the room and into the cold world outside her home, across the heartless forest and you wonder...if you might end up like your mother, buried under some tree to be forgotten. But Miranda keeps walking until she throws you at the feet of Lady Dimitrescu, speaking to the tall woman and leaving you under her care, forever.

When you were younger, you used to fear the Lady. She was imposing and so strong, a self-made matriarch, but she's so careful when helping you up and guiding you through her beautiful home, her hands are so kind when she helps you to undress and sit in the tub filled with warm water, racking her fingers through your messy hair...so this is what a mother truly is like?

She only leaves you alone when she goes to fetch anything you could wear, looking displeased when she hands you a maid's uniform "We must send for the seamstress, I cannot have you wearing those shabby clothes" that, for some reason gets you to smile.

Later, her movements are soft as she runs a brush through your hair, the fire makes the wood crack and explode, filling the room with a nice warmth, something you never lacked off but that never truly permeated your body.

"Y/N, care to explain why mother Miranda was so angry, earlier?" you hear the concern in her voice, a bit of worry hidden in a stern tone.

Alcina can see you shrink a bit, as if ashamed of what you had done “I saw the kid mother keeps in her chambers” it comes out like a whisper, scared of Miranda appearing at that moment to slap you again “I think he’s my soul mate, Alcina!”

Lady Dimitrescu chuckles lightly and smiles when you turn around to look at her ”Your soul mate, some dirty man-thing? Oh my sweet girl I hope it isn’t real and you were just revolted by the sight of a man!”

“But I felt his pain and his emotions...it was scary, but maybe he will love me!”

“Just because you can feel what he feels, doesn’t mean everything will be alright. That’s why those romances are so volatile, darling! There’s no real reason for them to work beyond being stubborn and tell yourself that it will work out” the lady is classy and gracious in her movements as she poured herself another glass of wine “That the other person at the end of your bond will fall to their knees the moment they see you, but in reality, they might resent your sole existence and end up killing you!”

“Killing me?” that comes as a surprise, you have never heard of this.

“Yes...a cruel and unjust dead” Alcina brings you to her lap letting one of her hands spread over your small chest with a sorrowful look on her face “Your lungs will get infested with flowers, a bouquet of throe will bloom within your body, each day the garden will grow and fight to see the sun beyond your mouth and it will rob you of all air and kill you in no time”

She sees you wonder about it, a million questions that you wish to ask, everything falling apart when her curious daughters come into the room, moved by the rumors some maids had shared about their mother adopting another child. All too eager to know their new sister.

After that day, the topic is never brought up.

You grow and learn everything under Alcina’s guidance, the woman is hellbent on making a lady out of you. She teaches you how to read and write, about math and how to sing, applauding when you show her the gift the cadou in your stomach gave you, Midas' touch.

Her daughters and your self-appointed sisters, all laugh and joke around you, treat you like if you were another human when you are no different from their mother, another failed creation, a remainder that Miranda was cursed to not have what she wants. But the love of your little family drowns those thoughts, leaving the happiness of your existence in a nice home and the ever-presence of pain and resentment in the back of your head.

As you grow you notice, each cut and wound that leaves a scar on your skin turns to gold when made by you, but looks as pale lines when made by Heisenberg. You can’t help but laugh when the idea of being a piece of pottery repaired via kintsugi pops in your head, and for a moment you ask yourself if Heisenberg also has golden scars to match yours?

You cry the day when you finally leave the castle, trying hard to convey your love for your mother and sisters with hugs and kisses, in low whispers, promises of coming over as much as you can. The Lady kisses your forehead and sends you off with some final words of advice.

"Never lower your head and always do your best, remember you have us and we would never let you fall"

You are eighteen when you become the miracle worker of the village, crafting medicines with alchemy, signing at the church when the congregation asks you to, turning anything into gold with your touch, smiling with grace, and claiming to have been blessed with a precious gift by Mother Miranda to help the poor and keep the village off absolute agony. In the end, everything tastes like vile and ash, the forced smiles and the sweet tone of your voice make you gang behind the long veil that covers your face.

The days when you sing at the church, are the only ones when you can feel all his hatred directed at you, each painful stab making your eyes tear, yet you keep on making the people happy with hymns crafted before you were even born. If you could let him feel how similar your anger for Miranda is, perhaps the pain in your chest would dissipate, but you can't because you are hollow.

Among the villagers you are Lady Y/N L/N, the golden touch child, you are adored and blindly loved, Miranda smiles radiantly whenever she hears nothing but good words from her cattle, how much they dote on you, ready to serve without a thought, the eagerness to work under you. You may have been a failed vessel but you are a success as a flycatcher, bringing the sheep down to the slaughterhouse to be sent to the other Lords.

On meeting day, the pain and emotions that you feel seem to amplify the closer you are to Heisenberg.

As you sit beside your adoptive mother, your smaller hand in hers, while Mother Miranda speaks and praises each one of her children, lingering a bit too much on her golden child. The pressure in your chest grows, it feels like when you submerge in the tub as if your lungs were being crushed under an invisible force, ready to cough and gasp for air.

Across from you, he sits, posture closed and annoyed beyond belief when Miranda asks him to stay a bit longer after the meeting is done, you feel relief when Lady Dimitrescu gets up, opting to ignore Heisenberg in favor of bringing you back to the castle for your scheduled visit.

You two aren't even halfway through your journey back when you notice you are missing something, a small gift for today's reunion, a bag of fine jasmine tea.

"Mother, I need to get back. It seems I misplaced something, you go ahead!"

There's no time for Alcina to respond before you volt back to the church, the soft lace of your veil beautifully flying behind your hurried steps, slowly dropping your speed the closer you get to the entrance of the building, from it you can see Miranda, she as shed her mask off and is touching Heisenberg's face the way you have seen brides or wives touch their husbands' faces.

A pulse of repugnance and despise make you stumble back, pressing your back against the outer wall, it feels like the first time you met him, it's blinding and leaves you disoriented for a second, a hand flies up to your mouth when a wave of nausea hits you. He's not only pissed, he feels filthy and is suppressing a murderous intent behind a mask of indifference.

The sensation grows and grows until it's crushing you. One look up and you see him standing before you, a hand caging you between him and pillar.

"What are you doing here, freak? The tall bitch sent you to spy on me? tell her to fuck off" this isn't the first time you hear his voice, but it feels like it, even if his words are filled with malice, they taste like bitter wine for you.

"NO!...I mean...no, Lord Heisenberg. I came back because I lost something, a small bag"

"So you are afraid the dog stole from you, are you calling me a thief?" your mouth opens to explain to him once more, but the burly man only growls and steps away "Think whatever you want, I can't care any less for whatever the scum thinks of me"

Later, in the solitude of your home, you will call yourself an idiot, asking yourself why you reached for his empty hand when he turned around ready to leave, why you didn't revealed who you were, why you didn't cried when the man slammed your body against the wall.

"DON'T YOU DARE TO TOUCH ME, BITCH!" Heisenberg's tobacco infused breath hits your face, the painful stab of hatred felt like if your body were being torn apart "I CAN'T STAND PEOPLE LIKE YOU, YOU MAKE SICK!"

This time, when he turns around to leave, you don't reach out, you stay there, gasping for hair and coughing like if you were drowning, a slick sensation in your throat makes you gag and cough harder than before, both of your hands are cupped over your mouth, scared at the idea of throwing up.

Thank God you don't.

The moment passes and your body calms down, but your eyes grow wide when you see what made you gag.

A single yellow carnation petal covered in spit rests between your hands.

-----

Yelow Carnation: rejection and disdain

tag list: @happygalaxymilkshake @mightybeeb @kittyb2000

[peeterparkr]

perennial;tom holland|sixteen.

chapter sixteen: coneflowers

↳ flower meanings: justice

chapter summary: fragile box, please handle with care. 

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings: angst but not for tom and y/n :) , mentions of sex, timmy, cherry, fluff. 

word count: 11.6K

SOCIAL MEDIA BEFORE THE CHAPTER: none

previous chapter next chapter   perennial masterlist.

perfidy  ( series masterlist)

I know it took me forever to write this, I’ve been having a hard time, my dog passed and I have been grieving, however, somehow I found the strenght to write. 

I know, it’s long. I know, I’m too descriptive.idc :) I liked it. it’s my writing and i’m sharing it with you, hope you enjoy it. 

thanks to @erodasghosts​ for being a real one and helping me out. 

btw stop sending anon hate it’s getting tiring 

tags aren’t working, please leave feedback asdakd listen to taylor swift 

Someone once said, to never fall in love, everything that falls, breaks. Y/n knew she was fragile but she’d broken enough to know she couldn’t break again. She was but pieces now. However, she could mend it with love. 

There is always that inexplicable feeling of joy when you get to wake up being held by one’s love, it is believed to be one of the most pleasurable moments, or at least it was for y/n to ever think of. If not the most pleasurable one. You can always long to go to bed with someone, but to wish for someone’s mornings, when they have a new day, talks about the most intimate act of all. 

She was usually the one to wake up earlier than him, usually watching as the sun would creep in from the window to warm his cheekbones. So peacefully as he was far away, dreaming. Golden streaking under his lips. 

Y/n always wondered if he ever dreamed of her. Often dreams are senseless, and fun, however dreams can turn into nightmares. 

Nightmares which would disappear whenever she was close to him. 

As usual, she had opened her eyes before him. How could anyone doubt them? She inquired to herself, her fingers delicately traced his skin, as he was away in his own world. 

There was no feeling of storms approaching and if it did, she knew she’d be able to dance with him. And they would bloom again. Though they were not right now, they would eventually. 

 “Y/N?” He said sheepishly, an eye half open. 

Y/n jumped, slightly startled. 

She smiled, “good morning.” 

And it was a good one. 

“Are you watching me sleep?” He asked, chuckling as his arm tried to bring her close. 

She blushed, and placed a kiss on his nose, “I—I got lost….in… your eyes?” 

He scoffed, “my closed eyes?” He laughed, trying still to open one eye completely. 

“I—was thinking and your face happened to be the view I had,” she said. 

“The only view you need,” he smirked, nuzzling into her hair. 

She rolled her  eyes, placing soft small kisses around his jaw. 

It is never easy to understand why the heart chooses what it chooses. If someone dared to ask she wouldn’t have the answer. Maybe she did. 

She could tell them about the fact that she was herself, and how she wanted to see how his eyelashes shined against the moonlight. How his silences spoke to her more than words. Or how her body was tattooed by his kiss. How after everything, they wanted to fight for their love. 

“Go back to sleep, love,” he said. “We don’t have to be awake.” 

She rolled her eyes, “no,” she stated before gluing her lips to his neck, kissing her way across it. 

“Oh,” he chuckled and she felt the vibrations through his neck. “Or you can… do that.” He lifted his head slightly, allowing her to get her lips on the sweet spot he loved. 

She giggled as she continued. 

“I think I can get used to this,” his eyes fluttered open. 

Love is not something that has a formula, there is no reason as to why someone loves someone. But looking at him, maybe she could think of some reasons. 

To the world, and the world being the people in the house, they were the enemies who had turned into lovers. Y/N knew better, they were lovers who had tried so hard to fool the world into believing they were enemies that they ended up believing it. 

“Hm, you must,” she warned him, now moving her lips up to the corner of his, he blushed and finally watched her. 

“Oh, will it be like this?” He smirked and finally managed to open his eyes, he tried stretching out but his hands were too eager to hold her again. 

“Maybe,” she chuckled. 

Had they not had those moments alone all their life? A certain calmness they shared whenever no one was around, and even when they would mock and bicker, it would be a strange familiarity. Was he not able to make her laugh? And cry? And feel every emotion. Every single one of them, and one who is powerful enough to know how to break you but chooses to love you instead and heal you is incredible. Someone who tried to mend the delicate parts. 

Being enemies had only shown them they could love each other even on their worst sides. And it had built them up, in a good way. They would have fun, competition. Even after all their battles, she found peace in him. Besides they both knew they didn’t need each other but they chose each other. They were not meant to be but damn, did they fight for each other. 

She finally caught his lips in hers, as he managed to turn her around and deepen the kiss, his arms embracing her as close as he could. She knew no one understood how they could be so in love after everything. 

Y/N guessed no one would understand, how after everything her eyes still shined when he smiled at her. How she wanted sunrises and sunsets, and the fun that might come in between. And to write a new story, one that the world didn’t have to know. 

“Every morning?” He asked her, after pulling away from the kiss. “Is that a promise?” 

She bit her lip, “Not every morning.” 

He frowned. 

“Some other mornings I might not kiss your neck, maybe your forehead,” she giggled. 

He chuckled, as he blushed, “Oh, I like that idea.” 

“Hm, you do?” She grinned. “How about…. Your ear?” 

He smiled, “I like that, too.” 

“Uh… your jaw.” 

“Yes,” Tom confirmed again. 

She kept watching him with mischief, “uh… how about your chest?” 

“Yes?” 

“Hm…your shoulder?” 

“Y/N, let’s just agree that I like your lips on any part of me,” he laughed before getting his own lips caressed on her neck. “Though I like them better on mine.” 

Maybe that had been her mistake, to try and get everyone to know a story that only them seemed to understand. Though they were always trying and running and hiding. As if they were merely prays trying to be hunted and they were scared of the very next roadblock, the next needle that would pop them.

“Hm, good, and I like yours,” she agreed. He served as a great blanket,she thought before pulling him to a deeper kiss. 

And yet they’d have each other at the end of the day, and a kiss to look up to as if it was the first time.  There were no other two people so different and so impossible for everyone else but that worked together so well. They saw their truth in each other, and though it was stupid, it was real. 

Y/N loved Tom because she didn’t need a reason for it. And she wouldn’t feel guilty every time he told her he loved her, she did not have to. And she had not given up because she knew Tom turned everything bright, that was his goddam gift and curse, he turned everything golden. Midas touch that sometimes turned things into gold when they were not worth turning into. 

Even them, who were so broken, he managed to make it perfect. 

Because they were them. No one else had to understand and though she knew they had been waiting for explanations the night before she did not have to give them any because she did not want their point of view. She only wanted Tom’s. And his, it was looking so bright. 

She pulled away this time, “hm are we supposed to tell them?” 

“Hm,” he kissed his way down to her neck and then to the valley between the slight cleavage that could show a bit of her breasts. “Probably.” 

“I guess they will ask for an explanation,” she said, as her hands landed on his hair, twirling her fingers around it. “I mean, James saw me on the verge of killing you yesterday and today you are—“

Tom chuckled as he looked up. “Right, they looked very confused yesterday.” 

Y/N grinned, “wouldn’t you be, idiot?” 

“Not with us, no,” he admitted as he rolled off, now resting his head on his hand, watching her. 

“Why not?” Y/N frowned. 

He laughed, as if it was rather obvious. “We’ve been doing this since we were kids, idiot,” he remarked the nickname. “Fight to death, then be friends for five minutes,” he chuckled as his hands traced up her body. “Except this isn’t—friendship, or not the PG-13 version of it—“

“This is definitely not the PG-13 version,” she agreed. “But this isn’t friendship.” 

“No, and it won’t last five minutes,” he smirked as his eyes turned with lust at her. “Forty-five maybe?” His eyes were burning with lust as he kept kissing his way down.

“No,” she rolled her eyes, giggling. “Not right now, Thomas.” 

“Why not?” He looked up with mischief.

She chuckled, “what would they say if they heard us?” 

“Do we still have to be alone for us to work out?” He questioned. “Didn’t we agree on not—being secretive?” 

She bit her lip, “No, but… I am not exactly fond of the idea of them listening to us have sex.” 

Tom had made a point. And it was the point that they both knew it, it’s always been that way, Rome, New York, now his room. What a magical place it was when they were alone. Getting away to be happy because nobody wanted to see them tumble down. 

He laughed, “Oh, I—well, we don’t have to be—uh, I thought we could-“

“Easy, Tom,” she said then, rolling her eyes. “I think I also told you I want to slow things down.” 

He paused, “right—But you—“

“I know,” she gulped. “I know I can’t stop myself but we both get to put boundaries, and— I need to sort things out.” 

“Yeah, right, right—“

“But—that doesn’t mean,” she coughed. “That I don’t love waking up to you.” 

He watched her with a smile. “I know, I know,” he kissed the corner of her lips, more sweetly now and rolled off. “So, are we going to tell them?” 

“I believe we—“she chuckled. “Maybe they’ll assume we are—in a good place.” 

“Yeah, I mean—“ 

“I just—“ she sat up, Tom watched her, still laying down. “I need you to—understand something, I’m—Please just bear with me?” She asked him. “I don’t want to lose this, so—“

He was calm, even smiling as he watched her, his hand reached to her hair, slowly stroking it. So different, neither of them waiting to attack.

“I—“ she didn’t know how to put it in words. 

“No, no, I get it, calmer, I know you need time to figure out your thoughts but I’m here—“he said. “We need to figure it out, slowly, and talk to people. Cherry, Tim.” 

“Yeah,” she sighed. 

“Yes I know, ease your thoughts. You always have something in your mind but we agreed on figuring out how to soothe your mind.”

“Yours too.”

“But we have each other, don’t we?” He asked, a calm soothing smile. “We are figuring it out, together.” 

She beamed. “Yeah.” 

“I like this new us,” he pointed out. 

“What? The talking ones?” Y/N laughed.

“Yes,” he smirked. 

“Thought you’d be more fond of the ones that ignore everything and make out,” she sassed. 

“We can talk about it and then make out and other stuff, darling, they don’t cancel each other out, I like talking.” 

“I hate it, I barely know how to speak my thoughts.”

He chuckled, “that’s not true, idiot.” 

“No, but it was easier painting each other as villains,” she pointed out. “And we could’ve left it all behind and make out... and yet.”

“And yet, we spent all night talking.” 

They had. Figuring out why they worked, and it made sense. The flowers had never dried, not theirs, at least. Y/N had finally accepted it to herself, mostly. That they would work out not because they wouldn’t have any battles but because they would win them, if they were together. 

They didn’t blame each other, but they both assumed they’d hurt each other and they wouldn’t forget it. To leave it behind would let the wounds open, to acknowledge them would let the scars heal. 

But they both knew they weren’t going to now. That was the difference. Both of them would excel on trying to be the best for them. 

However, both of them knew that it wouldn’t be easy, and that’s why their decision was so strong. 

“How are you feeling now?” He asked. 

Not empty anymore, she thought. “Confused,” she admitted. 

She had the right to be confused. Her heart had been juggling with different emotions over the last 72 hours, a rollercoaster of emotions that didn’t quite mix. She still had her own words circling in her mind, about past wounds. About the kiss she’d seen. Though she knew it hadn’t been Tom. 

That was a difference, and yes, it hurt. But Tom had not been the one to kiss cherry. Tom had not kissed Cherry to hurt y/n. 

The kiss had been a mistake. And y/n knew she could forgive mistakes. 

That was the one difference between after Rome and this. This hadnt been a thought out plan. 

“Is there anything I can do?” He questioned, holding her hand. 

She looked at him, not really. But now at least she didn’t question whether he loved her or not. She knew he did. 

The thing is. She hadn’t seen the kiss coming, and that’s what had shocked her the most, and now she was starting to come back from her thoughts. 

“No, I just need to rest,” she said. “I think my emotions just need a break.” 

“We can have a break today,” he said. “I thought we said we would have it.” 

But she couldn’t have it, not yet. 

The decision they’d taken wasn’t permanent, just for now, at least.  Filming and then they’ll figure it out back in London, though she was slightly scared because he would be away to film, again, and she’d be left alone. But not lonely now, that would be a huge difference and she’d be looking forward to seeing him again. And she wouldn’t have to worry about the heartbreak now. 

“I guess,” she plopped back on next to him. 

“This week has been so stressful,” he pointed out. “I’m exhausted.” 

They were exhausted, both of them, from being adorable to the heartbreak, to the fight to making up and then fighting again and then talking, and talking. 

“We made the right choice, right?” She asked. Because she was sure they had but maybe it was just both of them being exhausted of feeling. 

“Are you having second thoughts?” He asked. “We don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.” 

“No, I do,” she said. “I think it’ll also be easier to talk to each other.” 

“Yes,” he smiled slightly. “In the quiet and peace of this very room.” 

She looked around. “It needs stuff,” she smiled. 

“Stuff?” He grinned. 

“Yeah, it’s too—plain.” 

“I’m sure we will take care of that,” he pulled her close. “I’m sure the Polaroids you’ll take will be the perfect decor. But—Look, see over there? Vinyls.” 

She laughed, “having them on the floor isn’t exactly decor.” 

“It’s art, darling, it turns you on,” he mocked. 

She laughed, “ah, right, it does.”

“But you’re right it’s plain,” 

She nuzzled close to him, “yeah.” 

“So more vinyls, right?” 

“Yes.” 

“And the Polaroids…?” 

She grinned, “yes.” 

“I actually,” he coughed. “Have some.” 

She glanced up with curiosity, “the ones I gave back with the box?” 

He chuckled, “yeah,” he glanced over. “Dude you really said let’s wreck this man’s emotions didn’t you?” 

She pursed her lips and cupped his face, “why?” 

“You literally—made a dvd,” he reminded her. “With videos of us?” He chuckled. “Like—you really said: ah yeah, fuck him, let’s remind him that we’ve done this before and that we transformed it into a relationship, and then you—Fucking saved the beer cap from that one time we—“ he cleared his throat. 

“Yeah when we first hooked up. And that controller from the first kiss—“

“I’m surprised,” he admitted. “Are you a kleptomaniac?” He laughed. 

“Maybe? I don’t know,” she admitted. “It’s just—“

“They remind you of moments, right?” He questioned, 

“Yeah,” she sighed.

He looked at her, “why did you give them to me?” 

“Because—“she paused, “I know what I said in the script, and I know it was awful but I also—wanted to show you that I had written another story, you know? That that story was the one that made us and built us up and that I’ve been—Though it’s stupid, trrasuring it?” 

He stayed quiet. 

“I—Did I give you the letter, too?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Yeah—I just—-you don’t know how many times I drowned going back through the memories, trying to figure out the puzzle. When—back in Rome it was my way of bottling up, as if keeping it in a box meant keeping my broken heart in a drawer?” 

He nodded. 

“But I—After we—I don’t know when we were with that whole enemies with benefits things and we kind of—Broke up? Can we call it that way?” 

“Uh… When was this?”  

“When—“she chuckled. “I—Well I was scared because all of sudden you were getting all coupley—I mean you bloody made me have breakfast with your parents and made me hold your hand the entire time.” 

He smirked, “Yes.” 

“Well, after that—You learned Tim had kissed me, which by the way, he did—I wasn’t—“ 

Tom rolled his eyes, “Yeah, seems—believable, but—Why did you—-Why did you suddenly just say no? Like—I was the one to kind of suggest—a relationship?”

“That was not suggesting a relationship,” she laughed. “Tommy I love you but your way of—“

He scoffed, “I—Okay, but what about that day?” 

“I was so confused because I—I finally opened up that box and it was like—as if—As if I—“

Tom seemed confused. “As if you opened your heart?” He said dramatically. He seemed amused. 

She rolled her eyes, “yes, Tom, and you should start getting used to that, all my metaphors.” 

“Sorry, I forget we are dating and that now I can’t mock you,” he confessed. 

“No, you can mock me but….” 

“Right but then I have to kiss you?” He grinned, leaning over.

She pushed his face away, earning a glare. “Ew, no.” 

He laughed, “What?” 

Y/n nudged him. “No, but like—I did it as if it was—I don’t know—But like that box?” She said. “I wouldn’t mind having that dress hanging around until… It hurt, like, all of my—Like I only boxed them when it hurt.” 

He remained quiet. 

“And then… It just… I couldn’t keep boxing it away, you know?” 

“And why did you give it to me?” 

“Because when—after the engagement party,” she started, “I guess it was—“

“Did you want me to see the heartbreak?” He asked. 

“No,” she shook her head. “I realized I boxed it because everything boxed is a good thing. None of it were—sad memories. I didn’t box the yellow flowers you gave me—I mean I didn’t have them but, I boxed the one you brought after prom, what I mean is that I only stayed with the good things? If that makes sense?” 

“Yeah, no I guess it’s—“

“And I gave them to you I guess as a lame excuse of trying to—Be like—Hey we have a lot of good things because we often try and forget that.” 

“Right,” he coughed. 

“And I think we shouldn’t, you know?” she said. “Like yes, we’ve been talking about the bad parts, but we also have a lot of good ones, you know?” 

He smiled.

 “What—what did you do with it?” She asked.

“It’s back home,” he said and then smiled. “Which could be your home when we come back, too…” 

She rolled her eyes, “So good for taking things slow.” 

He peppered her with soft kisses across her face.

“Tommy,” she giggled. 

 “We will talk about it, you know, eventually….” He reminded her,

“Yeah, I know,” she grinned. “No—but, yeah, that box, I have—“she pinched the bridge of her nose. “I thought you would burn it.” 

He chuckled, “I—honestly I did think about it, like when you did, burning the flowers right in my face.” 

“I was broken-hearted and petty,” she said. 

He chuckled, “it was aesthetic.”

“You’re an idiot.” 

“Am I wrong? Don’t you do everything for it?” He teased. 

“Oh, yes, I cried for months just because it would be aesthetically pleasing,” she snapped, pushing herself far from him. 

“I’m joking, hey, I’m joking,” he pulled her back to him. “Can we go back to decorating matters?”

“No.”  

“Ah, please, I know you’re dying to change this stupid room with your polaroids, and… maybe flowers?” He smirked. 

Y/n rolled her eyes, “you’re so stupid, yes,” she grinned before kissing him sweetly. “There’s—also, do you have some clear space for my clothes—?” 

“Yeah, I think,” he gave it a thought. “Yes there’s plenty of space, your clothes will be safe.” 

This was what she needed. Those little conversations about being normal, not about their past or not about how much her heart was breaking. 

“Hopefully they’ll stay there all the time,” he added. 

She raised her brows in confusion. 

“Oh please darling, it'll be better if we wear no clothes at all,” he suggested so smoothly, y/n thought she would melt. 

“You’re an idiot,” she blushed, giggling softly. 

“You love me,” he stated smugly. 

She grinned, “yeah, I do.” 

It was time for him to blush, and kiss her, gently. Leaving soft tray of kisses across her face. 

She smiled, “So, how about I— tell your brothers and you tell mine,” she suggested. 

Tom laughed, pulling away nervously , “are you trying to get rid of me?” 

“What? No!” She was clearly confused. 

“Look, y/n, love, darling, princess, angel—“ 

She rolled her eyes with a knowing smile, “what?”

“I love you but I don’t think I have the balls to tell your brother you are moving in,” he said. 

She laughed, “why not?” 

“You’re really asking?” He cackled. “Didn’t you hear him last night?” 

Ah, she had. James said: I swear to god, if they have make up sex I’ll kill him. 

“I mean,” she laughed, “he wasn’t wrong, he did say that we had make up sex—. That’s kind of—“

“No, no it’s not what happened,” Tom cleared his throat. “I mean, yes a little, but it wasn’t that, like, we talked, a lot and we got to many conclusions.” 

“Yes but we still—“

“So what? He said he would kill me!” He laughed. “The fact that it did happen—I mean he doesn’t know it happened but—“

She giggled, “but what?”

“I am not risking being killed by your brother.” 

“You are not going to tell him that, you’re going to tell him I am moving in,” she reminded him. “Not the… sex part.”

“Please, but telling him you are moving in is basically telling him we are going to have sex on a daily basis.” 

She raised her brows, “we are not—“

“You can’t keep your hands off me, dumbass, he will know.”

“I am not, but—That’s beside the point, I am not moving in because of that, did you really think—?”

“I know you—I know it’s not because of that but this is James we are talking about—He will assume.” 

It was only partly why she was moving in. No, not the sex but to be with him. They’d work it out together and being together more time would help. Besides, she knew that she had to get rid of Tim. Not because of Tom’s jealousy, no, but because Tim had too much power in her mind and she did not know if she was strong enough to stop him. It wasn’t that Tim still had her feelings, no, but she had to know who she was without Tim, and who she was with Tom. She liked the version she was with Tom, the kind of person who was willing to see the best and try and show the best. Y/n liked who she was around Tom now. This version, the one that was willing to make her most complicated thoughts less complicated. The one that smiled when waking up, the one that smiled after a kiss. 

Y/N didn’t need Tom, technically. She knew that she could be fine in an apartment on her own, but she wanted him. And her wishes had become so strong they’d turn into a necessity. Her body was tattooed with him, her heart had his name carved. 

Her time away from him had been only a proof that she’d come back to him. Maybe he was an addiction. Maybe she was young and stupid, but she knew him too well to know that it was better to keep him around than to be away from him. 

Tom was a part of her, and trying to deny it would only bring her down. So she’d said yes to his proposal to move in. Because she knew it wasn’t a proposal that came from fear, it had been a proposal that had come from passion. 

The sky was clear. After the storms. They didn’t have to dance under the rain because she’d finally punched the hole through the roof. They’d come back to each other. 

Though they could assume that she’d take revenge over his mistake, and he could take his own, neither of them would, because why would they ever break what they love.

And she wouldn’t because they’d be chasing shadows and she didn’t need that. 

Maybe they had to drown together, or understand they’d both drowned.

But the water, though still slightly altered, was swimmable, because she had him. And that’s all she needed right now, he was the only answer to the many of her questions. 

“Well, if he assumes it,” she chuckled, “it’s on him. Besides, if he assumes it that’s gross, why does he assume his little sister is having sex?” That made him laugh, “besides, I don’t care. It’s our decision, they don’t know about us.” 

There was something about them that they managed to see each other. 

“They do know us,” he pointed out. 

“Yes, separately, they don’t see this,” she pointed out. “I think they don’t fully understand us, and honestly, I don’t need them to.” 

Tom tilted his head. 

“Eventually they’ll see it, but I think they do, already, they just have this version of us, and we do, too, but I think we—“

“We are more than that, yes,” Tom agreed. 

“They don’t know about the things we do, they don’t know about the I love you’s.” 

He closed his eyes, “did you just fucking quote One Direction?” 

“They don’t know about the up all nights—“ she sang. 

“Stop. You’re ruining this.” 

“They don’t know—“

“Shut up, I love you but you should stop,” Tom laughed. “No—I hate you.” 

“I hate you, too,” she grinned, leaning down to kiss him. How marvelous, her enemies to lovers story had turned out. 

“Are… we avoiding going out and facing them?” He asked in between kisses. 

“Hm. I think so,” she admitted. 

They would have to face them, and so they, though they’d rather stay savoring each others’ words, they went to the kitchen, where they would be received with their spectators. 

Sam, James and Clark. There was no sight of Harry, y/n noticed. 

They froze when they saw them. As if with a word they could destroy each other. Y/N didn’t like to think of them so fragile but she understood where they came from. 

“Hello,” Tom was the one to break the silence. 

They didn’t answer. 

“Good morning,” y/n was next. 

Clark smiled, “good morning!” He greeted them. “How did you guys sleep?” He had a mischievous and knowing look on his face. 

“Fantastic,” Tom said. 

Y/N smiled, “Good, how about you guys?” 

“Ah, slept next to an idiot, but it was lovely,” he said. 

James glared at his fiancé. 

“Ah, me too,” y/n grinned. “It comes as a surprise, does it not? How incredibly soothing it is to sleep next to an idiot.” 

Tom chuckled and eyed their breakfast, as if trying to decide what he would have for him. Sam watched them with irony. 

“Surprising indeed,” Clark answered. 

“What?” James asked. 

“You wouldn’t know James, you are the idiot in the relationship. “Where’s Harry?” Y/n asked with curiosity. 

Sam smirked. “Not here.” 

Tom stole a piece of bacon from Sam’s plate earning a glare from his younger brother. 

“Not—?”Y/n frowned, very unaware of the situation. “Alright—uh, what can I have for breakfa—“

“Alright that’s enough,” James interrupted. “You guys are going to act as if nothing happened?” 

Tom took a deep breath, “good morning, James.” 

“Good morning?” James mocked. “Good morning? That’s all you have to say?” 

Tom chuckled, “sorry, how did you sleep, James?” 

James was losing it. 

“Are you kidding us?” James asked. “You—y/n almost murdered him yesterday—“

Y/N chuckled, “so? You pretended to be straight for fourteen years. And now you’re here engaged to a man, we all pretend to be things we’re not.” 

Clark bursted out laughing. 

“What the fuck,” was all James could say. 

Clark placed a hand on his shoulders, immediately James calmed down. “Jamie, love we talked about this—“ 

“I’m—You guys just—“ James couldn’t even speak.

Y/N sighed, rolling her eyes, “it’s none of your business, James, but if you must know, I made out with him for 10 hours straight and forgot about it.” 

Tom was the one to freak out now, “no, no no—We didn’t—No, we—we talked okay?” 

Y/N laughed, “yeah—Fine.” 

Sam rolled his eyes, “I think what James here means is that we are tired of not knowing how the hell to act around this and we need an update.” 

“Yeah. So about that,” y/n said. “First, I need you to understand that this is between Tom and me,” she cleared up. “Whatever we are going through, we don’t need you to meddle in, and we don’t want you to take sides or whatever, because there is no sides here, this is not y/n versus Tom, this is not a prank war, this is not—“

Tom cleared his throat. 

Y/N closed her eyes, “we came into a realization that we—no, we’ve always known who we are when we are together. We know each other, and we love you guys but this is our thing.” 

Clark smiled and then turned to James as if telling him: ‘I told you so’. 

“We—“Tom was the one to speak now. “I think what she’s trying to say is that we don’t want you guys to be worried about it.” 

 “Yes,” she said. “And...You guys all know us, we know, I know, James, I know you know me and want to protect me, however you guys barely know who we are together,” Y/N continued. 

James watched them, “We only want what’s best.” 

“Yes but how do you know what’s best for us?” Y/N asked. “And it’s… Look, I’ve never meddled in your relationship with Clark, I barely even knew about it and look at you guys.” 

“Yes but you guys-” James tried to intrude again. 

“We know,” Tom said. “We know, though it’s not perfect, it’s our relationship, and…” Tom took a deep breath. “Yes, you’ve been witnesses to the bad parts, and only the bad parts, but… we… We also have some very good ones, like back in New York, Rome or just this morning, and maybe that’s on us, because we’ve always feared about it and… We’ve always been so…” 

“Yeah, what we thought was that we… We are so scared of the outcome that we’ve always shielded ourselves by being alone, and we don’t have to,” y/n finished his sentence. 

“And yes, it’s not perfect, but it is the best that has happened to us and though it’s hard to believe we've brought the best of each other..” Tom cleared his throat. “We have.” 

“Yes, I know it’s hard to believe but I love the y/n I am when this idiot is around,” she admitted. 

James was listening now, Clark couldn’t help but smile and Sam was, honestly, just confused. 

“We’ve overcome the worst heartbreaks and we both know each other’s worst and we are willing to bring the best,” Tom said. “We are willing to work it out and step out of the idea we have of each other because we also know we are trying to become our best versions.” 

Sam nodded, “Cool, now, can we just please be aware of your relationship status? Though we won’t meddle I think we’re very involved in this and might as well—you know, be aware.” 

Y/N and Tom looked at each other, it was weird why they felt so insecure about it yet there was no reason to. 

“She’s moving in,” Tom announced, firmly but regretted it instantly. “Uh—Just—“

The room was incredibly quiet. Of course they had expected this, they had been on the verge of breaking up right now and this outcome was nothing of what they had expected. 

Y/N nodded, that’s all she could do. She walked closer to Tom. 

James took a deep breath, Clark held his hand, knowing that James was probably about to lose his shit. He didn’t. 

James didn’t look at Tom, he looked at his sister, who only reached out for her lover’s hand, now uneasy and kind of sweaty. 

Sam wanted to roll his eyes, and not because he wasn’t happy. He wasn’t sure why. 

Y/n thought  she knew what they were thinking, that they were completely crazy. That they wouldn’t last. That it was just another stupid idea. Like back when they were children and they had decided to play at the tree house together and five minutes in y/n had climbed down crying because Tom had said something mean. Or that one time when they had gone to the movies when they were younger and said they would share the popcorn and Tom had ended up with the bucket on his head. 

Like the old times when they always said they would be fine and then five minutes later they’d be at each other’s throat or on top of each other trying to hit the other. 

Y/n thought they were thinking that. And they probably were. 

The difference was that she didn’t care this time, because she knew that this time probably, yes, she’d be on his throat, but with her lips tracing its way and if someone was on top of each other, well, she would… really like that. 

“Alright,” James said, finally breaking the silence. 

That was new.

And everybody was confused. 

“Just know, that this is my sister, Thomas,” he added. “Please just stay five feet apart at all times. Separate bedrooms.” 

Tom chuckled nervously, he was sweating. He would actually take that in mind, he tried to walk away. He wasn’t sure why he was scared of James, it’s not like James would hurt him. Maybe it was a matter of trying not to disappoint him. 

“No, thanks for the suggestion,” y/n smiled. “But I’m good. He’s a good pillow.” 

James wanted to ask a million questions, and he only was squeezing Clark’s hand. Clark thought he would end up losing it. 

“So—breakfast?” Y/n said with a smug smirk.

Sam kept watching them with curiosity.

“Just—Just—“James was startled, y/n could tell, “I—“He was warned with a glare by Clark. “I need—I need to know, please, I just—how the hell—How did you guys even go—from—?” 

“From what? Enemies to this?” Y/N questioned. 

“That I can answer, she flirted once for 20 seconds and  I became obsessed with her,” Tom said and then laughed. “No, I’m joking, well, no—Not really, but she kissed me once and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since.” 

Y/n smiled. “Yeah, he smiled at me once and that was it for me, also, I’m attracted to stupid. And he happens to be—“

“No—“James tried to say something but y/n interrupted him again. 

“Ah okay, well we flirted at some bar once and we—“y/n started. 

“Danced! Yeah, to that song from Risky Business!” Tom didn’t let her finish knowing damn well that hadn’t happened but he would not let her say they had flirted and hooked up and ended up with this. 

“Ah, yeah, but that didn’t happen until after—“

“I flirted with you on set,” Tom reminded her. 

She grinned,”that was flirting? Well, okay yes—“

“No, I didn’t mean—,” James tried speaking again.

“Ah sorry,James,” y/n laughed. “Right so—In his car—“

“We got pancakes at midnight,” Tom interrupted yet again. Did she want him dead? 

“And then I held hands with her having breakfast once and I realized I wanted to wake up every morning to her,” Tom said. 

Y/n glared, “that’s—“

“Yes, and we danced to that song from Dirty Dancing and she ended up madly in love with me.” 

“Yes and then on the plane—“y/n continued with a smirk, she was mocking him. She clearly knew what she was doing. This was Tom and Y/n in their splendor. She was teasing. 

“Yes we had a date,” Tom glared, interrupting again. “And then we danced in the middle of the street in New York..” 

“Why the hell is there so much dancing,” Sam asked.

Y/n laughed, “yeah, dancing.” 

James rolled his eyes, “I don’t care about whatever happened—“

“That’s the thing, James,” y/n said. “I know you’re asking how the hell did I turn from almost murdering him to now moving in with him, and that’s exactly the explanation I’m giving you. All those little details in our relationship? That’s what led us here.” 

James took a deep breath. Clark brushed his back trying to soothe him. Y/N knew they weren’t exactly happy with this, but this was it. 

Even last time she was nervous about it. How would they react, and how they feared they would respond. But why did it matter? 

Though she knew that they would be supportive, no matter what. They would be supportive. It was not then that mattered. 

She knew her mind could easily be manipulated by someone else. Someone who was not at that house. 

Y/N and Tom both expected James to say his infamous words ‘I’m happy you’re happy.’ Which would mean he didn’t agree. 

He didn’t, instead he said, “Dont’ fuck it up, please, I love you both too much and I really want you both to be happy, and if you guys make each other happy then don’t be fucking stupid.” 

They had his approval, not that it mattered. 

Sam had been quiet. Dangerously quiet.

Y/N knew not to push him. 

They had breakfast, and it had been calm. Clark had been kind enough to change the subject of conversation and brought the subject of the wedding though James had been reluctant. They did talk about it, and Tom had tried to make some points on it by recalling that he’d been the one to introduce Tom and Clark. 

“Introducing me to the love of my life won’t redeem you from even holding my sister’s hand, Thomas.” 

But though the sky was clear, y/n knew they had to drive to the storm, the difference this time, they’d go together. 

Y/N had given it a thought, she was not sure how she would talk to Cherry. She was going to...eventually. 

“Y/N, can I talk to you?” Sam had asked as y/n and Tom were splashing water at each other while doing the dishes. 

Tom glanced at his brother. 

“Alone?” Sam remarked. 

Y/N chuckled, “Yeah, sure.” 

And she left with him. Tom didn’t know what that was about. Though he knew he didn’t have to worry, one because Sam would get y/n against him, not that he had to, and besides y/n had made sure to make Tom know that she wouldn’t let their relationship tumble down over little doubts and fears. 

Sam wouldn’t give her any. But he knew that there was something bothering Sam, he wondered what. But if it was a problem with Tom, he would’ve talked it with him. 

Tom never really understood Sam and y/n’s relationship, it was very peculiar and fun, he knew. He knew y/n trusted Sam with her life. And Sam trusted her with his. 

It took him a while, he’d seen them talking far away. 

“What’s--up with them?” Tom asked James and Clark who were on their way to go out, Clark explained they’d go tourist. 

“Dunno, maybe he’s trying to bring some reason to y/n and try and convince her not to date you,” James joked with a smug smirk. 

Tom scoffed, rolling his eyes, “You’re really hating this, huh?” 

Clark nudged James, “No, he doesn’t, he’s just being a bitter asshole, like the big brother he was to be.” 

“Yeah,” James confirmed. “I hate any guy who dates her, she may be a pain in the ass but no one deserves her.” 

Tom was slightly hurt by that, though he agreed, he knew James had never been this reluctant as when she was dating Tim. Tom faked a laugh anyway.

Clark glared at James. “You’re doing exactly what I fucking told you not to.” 

“Please,” James grinned. “Tom perfectly knows I’m joking, they’re so bloody meant to be it’s making me sick, but I still forbid you to even fucking hold her hand,” he said as he put on a jacket. 

Tom was slightly calmed by that statement. “‘Lright.” 

“But no, I wouldn’t worry about Sam, Sam is probably talking about a theory he came up about something, he was watching Sherlock last night, I think so… You know how he is.” 

Tom chuckled, “right.” 

“And they haven’t seen each other in so long so he just probably took the chance.” 

“Right,” Tom said, and it did make sense. 

Clark and James left, eventually after telling Tom their plans. Tom was still slightly nervous. 

When y/n came back, her eyes were distraught and distracted. 

“Everything okay?” Tom asked, quickly. 

She licked her lips, “Yeah, yeah, we…” 

“You don’t seem alright,” Tom pointed out. 

“Yeah, I… No,  don’t worry, Sam just…” She nodded to herself, as if she was figuring out her thoughts on her own. 

“You sure?” Tom pushed. 

Y/N only nodded before walking away

Sam was walking by too, “Don’t worry, let her… sit in her thoughts.” 

“What did you say to her?” Tom asked. 

“Nothing that prejudices you, don’t worry,” Sam said. 

Y/N needed some clothes and to start packing. y/n was quiet for another moments, and then asked to go to her flat, she wasn’t distraught anymore. Tom and her talked again, he didn’t push the Sam subject, but they talked, apparently it was something they were doing now. While in the car, just like they had in the morning, talking, calmly. With a few jokes in between. 

Y/n didn’t know how, probably Tom either but he was teasing, like old times. Both of them making fun of each other, remembering. 

“You sure you want to do this?” He asked as they were climbing the outside stairs to y/n’s apartment, he reached for her hand to stop her. 

She looked back, she wondered how their silhouettes looked, very Romeo and Juliet probably. Romantic. 

“Do what?” She asked, “go upstairs?” 

“No, dumbass,” he chuckled, as he took a step forward but she was still ahead. “Move in?” 

Honestly, she did have some doubts, that had nothing to do with Tom, and nothing to do with her apartment. Y/N had doubts on herself, not with Tom, but she—still was unsure on how she would feel when they would have to leave, eventually. Back to London. She was doubting the process of going back to London. And moving in with Tom meant she’d eventually have to. Or—what if she had to stay? How would she find another apartment—or would she have to move in back with Emma and Tim? Would Emma even stay in LA? And would Tim? 

No worries with Emma but—Tim. 

She’d worry about it later. 

“Yes,” she smiled as she pulled his hand, he climbed to the same step. “I’m sure, besides, it’s not like I’m moving in today, I’m just—getting some clothes,” she reminded him. 

“Right?” 

“Are you sure?” She asked. Maybe he hadn’t asked because of her but because of him. Maybe Tom was second guessing the proposal that had come in so abruptly. 

Y/N had not initially answered when he had asked, after all, he had blurted it out in a very compromising position.

“What?” she had asked. 

“That—was stupid wasn’t it?” It had been. But, really, y/n was used to his stupidity. 

And they had remained quiet on the ride. Tom had been so embarrassed for even daring to think of it, let alone asking it. 

Tom had tried to cut the silence. “I—“

“I just—“she laughed as she interrupted. “So—I was—you know, on top of you and you thought—Yes, I want to move in with her, that was what was going through your mind?” 

Tom turned red, “I—no—“

“Your mind was elsewhere while we—was it that boring—?”

“No!” He coughed. “I—No, nothing like that—No, I just—It was on my mind before it happened and—“

“It was on your mind?” 

“Yes. You mentioned how you had to move out and I couldn’t help but think that—I—forget it, it’s stupid.” 

“It’s not.” 

“What?” 

She had paused. “How crazy would it be? Like—Even in New York we had to get rid of the other room because—“

“Yes but—This is months—“

She paused, “right.” 

“I mean—I would love to,” he admitted. “We could—I dunno, waking up to you every morning sounds like a dream come true.” 

She only smiled shyly. 

“But no, it’s stupid right? Uh—should we go for something to eat?” 

“Yeah—“

“I—no—I actually did mean it,” he confessed. “I do mean it, it wasn’t the heat of the moment or whatever.” 

“You’re asking me to move in with you?” She questioned. As if trying to make him realize what he was really offering. 

“Yes, I am,” he had said firmly. “I—just think about the perks we would have.” 

“Oh, no, I know about those—“she sassed, chuckling slightly. 

“Like—we could drive together to set all the time and you could—Uh, there’s this room that you could use to write? Yes—and uh, we don’t even have to be on the same room, when James leaves you can take the room he was sleeping in.” 

She was amused, and watched him with a smirk, “so, roommates? Is that where we are standing now?” 

“No—But if you think it’s soon—“

“It is soon,” she pointed out. “But when have we ever—been good with any timing in our relationship?” 

He chuckled nervously, “true—But I mean—if it’s too soon then we don’t have to sleep on the same bed.”

She only watched him. 

They did go to a drive thru, and stayed quiet again. Tom had been so nervous about it. And he knew y/n didn’t believe him that he actually was offering it to her. 

“So, want to be my roommate?” He offered as he’d drove home, they had stayed at the car, sitting on the trunk, probably because neither of them wanted to face everyone in the house yet. 

“I—have been thinking about it,” she admitted. “But—being honest.” 

“Yes?” 

“I don’t think we could stay in separate rooms,” she recalled. “I—I mean—“

“Why—not?” 

“Tom.” 

“I—I—it’s cause, I know it’s soon but that way you don’t have to find another place, and—“

“No, no—I—like the idea but—“

“Yes?” 

“But… Are you seriously offering being… roommates?” 

He coughed, “Roommates who kiss occasionally.” 

She rolled her eyes, “Uh-huh.” 

“Look I… I don’t know, I… Ideally, you could move in and we’d be sharing a room,” he hesitated. 

“So coupley,” she joked. 

“I thought we… were that?” He questioned. 

She gave him a smile, “Well, yes, that’s why I figured we can’t be in separate rooms, and honestly even if we were I know I’d crawl my way to you.” 

He watched her with curiosity, as if he couldn’t quite understand why she was asking if he was sure. He was, and it didn’t matter if they moved in or not, she was his home, as cliché as it may sound. And it was exciting, though a bit scary, he was sure of it. 

“Yes, I’m sure,” he grinned. “Why-wouldn’t I be?” 

The sun had posed on her lashes as she dedicated him a very shy smile. Tom wasn’t scared anymore. Though they’d started in a very cheerful spring and ended in New York for a very nice summer, the autumn was now their very best. A breeze made her hair fly, and they kept their way, Tom could only smile at the way the sun made its way through her face, as if it was made to shine on her. 

Tom knew they had to still mend each other’s hearts, delicately. But they had each other for so, and the future looked bright. Just like the sun in her face.

Y/N opened the door to the apartment, and Tom feared just a little, that their incredible drea would tumble down if Tim was there. He… wasn’t. 

Was it selfish to think that he somehow knew y/n would eventually come back to him? Was it that selfish to have that feeling so strong? He had thought about it, all night. A love so stubborn that they’d find a way to each other, even pretend to hate just to have a reason to talk to each other. Maybe they were young and knew nothing about love and it was stupid, but they knew everything about each other. 

He knew they’d be able to talk about the rain, they’d danced enough under it to know they would see it bittersweet. Maybe it wasn’t selfish to think she’d come back, because he knew he would, too. 

Y/N walked in and stared at the couch, curiously. There were a few clothes here and there. 

“What?” Tom asked. 

“I didn’t see the car,” she pointed out. She headed to the kitchen and opened the fridge, getting out two beers, handing him one, “I guess they’re not here… the place is…” She shook her head as she frowned. “Nothing.” 

He knew it meant something, but if she didn’t want to share it then it meant she didn’t want him to know. He didn’t push it. 

He followed after her into her room, he sat on the bed and looked around. Her room was so… her. She always managed to make things hers, as if she had this mystical touch to transform everything into beautiful things. He always wondered how she did it, how she managed to turn the not so nice apartment into something liveable. 

Maybe that’s why she hadn’t broken up with him, because she’d even turn her heartbreak into something beautiful.

There was something beautiful in them, fragile things often tend to be the most expensive and the things you care for the most. He looked at the flowers, dried out now but decorative. Pretty. 

Her camera, some writings, polaroids. She was looking through her clothes, and Tom only remembered when she was packing back for New York. But she had boxes now. 

He beamed as he then walked through her room, he could still smell the perfume from the flowers hanging. All of them were yellow, or some tone near yellow. She had maps, also, with some places circled. He saw her notebook that she took to set, the script with scribbles and his name circled. Flowers sketched around it, he smiled. 

But there was a noise heard outside, a laugh? 

Both Tom and y/n frowned and tried to peek through the door, and then a view they had not expected. Emma’s laughter echoed through the apartment as she made her way to the kitchen, topless or her bare back gave away that impression, with Harry following right behind wearing only a pair of boxers, harmonizing his laughter with his, as he ran to her and hugged her from behind, kissing her bare neck. 

Both y/n and Tom widened their eyes as they turned to each other, with surprise. Tom quickly rushed to close the door, Y/N did the same as they quietly closed her bedroom door. And as soon as they had, they both tried not to laugh. 

“Oh my god,” both of them whispered, red from embarrassment, still trying to contain their laughter. 

“What the fuck?” Tom asked, happy for his brother, but also very uncomfortable. 

She snorted, “I don’t know,” she answered quietly. “Oh my god?” 

“Do you think they fucked?” Tom asked. 

“That’s your brother!” She playfully smacked his arm, giggling. “But… Oh my god, they totally did.” 

“Oh for fucking sure they did.” 

“That’s why Harry wasn’t—oh my god?”

“I… oh my god,” Tom pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“I saw her boobs,” Y/N laughed, a bit too loud and Tom quickly covered her mouth. 

“Shut up, idiot,” He said. “They’re like fucking deers, they’ll be startled!” 

Y/N couldn’t stop giggling so instead she buried into his chest, expecting the shirt to cover the sound. 

“I… Okay, but…” Tom smirked. “Do you think they pulled a ‘Tom and y/n’ and just…?” 

“I mean,” she chuckled. “It’s an effective method. 

Tom chuckled. “He fucking judged us yesterday—?”

“Yes but I guess he saw us and went: huh that worked for them?” 

Tom cackled. “I can’t believe Emma would give in—“

“Oh, so you—“she frowned. “Emma wouldn’t but I would?” 

Tom knew he had fucked up, as he often does, cause he’s a man and an idiot. “Shit—No—I didn’t.” 

“Am I that easy to persuade?” She asked. 

“No—I don’t mean it, like that, I just mean that—“

“That Emma wouldn’t be up for makeup sex but I would?” 

“You have—been up for—,” he stated. “Look—I didn’t—“

She chuckled, “so you think you are in control of it?” She pointed out. 

“Psh, I know you can’t resist me, darling.”

She smirked, “Tommy, please.” 

He gulped, “I—okay, no I’m not but I didn’t mean it like that.” Tom rolled his eyes, chuckling. “Fine, you can do whatever you want to me, I give in.” 

“You’re such an idiot.”

“Harry!” And a giggle was heard from outside. 

Tom closed his eyes. “Wait—Please—please tell me they’re not going to—Go for it, again.” 

Y/N looked up. “I—I—Hope not?” She was scared. 

 “Are we trapped?” Tom asked. 

Y/n chuckled, “seems like we are.” 

“Great,” Tom sighed as he plopped on the bed. “Do you think she—forgave him?” 

“Shut up, you’re an idiot,” they heard Emma yell.  

Y/N listened and nodded before sitting beside him, handing him his beer “Dunno, but did you hear? Poor thing she’s bloody in love with him.” 

“She called him an idiot,” Tom pointed out, confused..

Y/N chuckled to herself, watching him comically, she smirked before drinking from her beer, “I know, dumbass.” 

Tom frowned, “So, she is mad right?” 

“Oh my god,” she pinched the bridge of her nose. “You’re an idiot.”

“I’m—Oh.” 

He was an idiot. 

Tom, even if he would not dare to say it out loud was slightly jealous of his brother. In a weird way. In a way that Tom aspired to be the most adorable couple and Harry and Emma had always been 1st on that place. 

Tom knew Harry and Emma specialized on being adorable, hence why Harry would not stand Tom and y/n. 

They were such different couples. But there were a lot of similarities, Harry and y/n were very alike, very reserved. Tom and Emma were also very alike, so open and so cheerful. 

But Harry and Emma had more in common, they were very different in the way they approached things, which often came as a blessing and more often than not, it was not a blessing. They were so stubborn. 

Which was the difference with y/n and Tom who were so different, y/n was so into her world, calmly escaping in films, music, clothing, pretty things. While Tom escaped with the gym, golf and parties. 

Y/N loved quiet, Tom loved loud and yet. 

They were there, locked in y/n’s room and though there probably were a million other things to do, they both laid down with their feet resting against the wall. Trying to ignore Harry and Emma who god knows what they were doing. Talking about everything and nothing at all. 

Hands playing with each other’s hands. 

“No, but like—Mr. Darcy is just—“y/n sighed, dramatically. “He is a dream come true.”

Tom chuckled, “He’s emotionally unavailable.” 

“Yes, he is an idiot,” y/n pointed out, “which—of course , it makes sense I’d fall in love with him.” 

“I don’t understand why—Like, okay, the actor is handsome but—“

“Oh my god Thomas, no,” she interrupted. “I mean yes but it’s the story.”

Tom laughed. “The story?”

“It’s enemies to lovers,” she said as if it was obvious enough already. 

It’s fair to point out now, Tom was very dumb. “What?” He proved it with that. 

“I—“She chuckled. “Tommy, okay—So it’s—enemies to lovers who love each other but they don’t give in because of their misconceptions of each other.” 

“Yeah, it’s in the title—pride and prejudice,” he remarked. “So what? Why do you love it so much?”

Y/N looked at him as if she was reconsidering every life choice she’d ever made. “I—It’s ironic, even, Thomas.” 

“What is?” 

“What were we before we dated?” 

“Sad?” 

“I—“she chuckled. “No—I mean.” 

“What?”

“We were enemies, Thomas.” 

Tom then realized how stupid he was. He closed his eyes as he finally made the realization. “Oh.” 

“Yes—Oh, dumbass.” 

“But—Okay, I thought we would be more like Mr Bingley and Jane” 

She laughed, softly. “Please, you’re not nearly as adorable and you were just as emotionally unavailable to me half your life.”

“I was—Okay but like—I—I thought.”

“No, those two out there? They’re Bingley and Jane.” 

“Oh, makes sense...so, you and I are Mr. Darcy and Lizzie?”

“No, we are idiots.” 

Tom nudged her. “Yes, idiot but I meant—“

“Hm are we?”she questioned. 

“You’re just as stubborn as she is so,” Tom smirked. “I love you most ardently.” 

“You have bewitched me body and soul,” she proclaimed. 

“I think we are like them, even better,” he grinned. 

“No, I love you but no, we are not,” she smiled.“However, I do wonder how Jane and Bingley are doing.” 

Tom laughed. “I am pretty sure we are good to go out, are you ready to go? Packed enough for some days at least?” 

“Yeah, almost,” y/n said as she stood up after kissing his cheek. 

Tom watched her, “what did you and Sam talk about?” 

Y/N paused, “Stuff.” 

So she didn’t want to tell him, why? Tom coughed, “Uh, but are you okay?” 

“He… just made the type of questions Sam usually makes, you know, the one that… makes you think” y/n said and then took a deep breath. 

“Oh, those are… dangerous,” Tom pointed out. 

She turned to him,“I know-We agreed on talking, but let me just figure this one out and then I can tell you.” 

“Should I be worried?” he asked.

“No, not you,” she said. 

“Someone should?” 

She chuckled, “I… No, but… It’s just…” 

Tom only watched, still nervously and anxiously sitting on her bed. 

She smiled at him and dropped what she was doing, she walked over to him and wrapped her hands around him, “trust me, you don’t have to worry,” and she kissed the top of his head. 

Y/N picked up some of her stuff, as she’d walked out, she made sure neither Harry or Emma were around, they did not have to know they were there. Tom followed after helping her with some more stuff. But just as they were making their way, two doors opened, Emma’s and the front door. 

And then the flat was too crowded. 

Too crowded. 

Tim had walked in with Cherry following behind, stopping abruptly as they’d seen the other two couples. Emma was probably debating whether to watch the couple who had been already inside or the one just coming in. 

Emma felt this one familiar feeling, like she could hear sirens and she could see the red fire burning all the flat, like when she’d seen her own engagement party tumble down. Her skin scorched as the flames grew stronger. 

Harry felt it, too. Glass shattered for him, and now if he walked any further, he would shatter. Both of them were tired of this. Harry didn’t want to feel this fragile but he couldn't help it. 

Everyone remained frozen, as if they knew they were in a minefield and any further movement would break them all apart. Tom’s only instinct was to reach for y/n’s arm, as if he was protecting her. He only looked at her, trying to figure out what exactly was going through her mind. 

Y/N’s expression was very hard to read, but she gripped on tight to the box she was holding. Her skin was blazing, too, Tom could tell. Was she angry? Disappointed? Had her heartbreak come back? 

Was she mad at him or Tim? Or Cherry? Her sight was focused on those last two. Her breathing was fractured. 

Everyone remained completely still. 

Waiting for someone to shatter the utter and raging silence still lingered in the room.

Tom was the most scared one. But Tom only glared at Tim, whichever his intentions with Cherry were, were probably not good. And he was angry not only for y/n, but for Cherry. Tom was well aware of the power Tim held with vulnerable people and Tom could tell Cherry would be vulnerable right now. 

Tim opened his mouth but nothing could come out, he glared back at Tom. Tom tried to fight the urge to punch Tim in the face. Because probably Tim was judging y/n and Tim would probably try and persuade y/n into thinking this was a bad idea. 

Tim eyed the box up and down, then looked at y/n. 

“Please, for the love of god, do it somewhere else, whatever the fuck you’re doing, don’t do it here, don’t ruin my day,” Emma finally spoke, out loud. It’s fair to point out, they were dressed now. Fully dressed. Tom assumed they would go out. 

Harry only glanced at Tom, as if warning him to listen to Emma. 

Tom sighed. 

Tim glared at Emma. 

The next movement was made by y/n. She only walked past Tim and Cherry, ignoring them. 

Tom was… surprised. 

“Y/N, can I talk to you?” Cherry’s voice had barely come out of her mouth, as if each word had physically pained her. 

Y/N stopped, glared at Tim and then turned to Cherry. “Sure.” 

No one had expected that from her. Especially Tim, he thought y/n would have only ignored her and just escaped. Tim didn’t know this, but y/n didn’t blame Cherry.

“Not fucking with this,” Emma dragged Harry out the apartment, they didn’t fucking need this drama. And they wouldn’t deal with it. She snatched the car keys from Timmy and kept dragging Harry. “Good luck,” she warned to y/n. 

“Bye,” Harry whispered led to them. 

Y/N watched them, Tom swore he saw her smile a little, but it was quickly erased as she turned to cherry. “So?” 

Cherry blinked, also baffled by y/n’s positive answer. 

“Right now?” Y/N asked. 

Tom only watched them. 

Cherry gulped, “Yeah, yeah--” 

“Here?” Y/N questioned. 

“I... Don’t know,” Cherry said, but she was speaking carefully. Terrified of y/n. Not that her cousin would be harsh on her, but y/n’s blank expression was enough to scare her off. 

“Your mum’s cafe is only a few blocks away, we could walk there,” Y/N suggested and then walked back to the flat, leaving the box on the counter. She gave a reassuring nod to Tom. 

Tom wasn’t scared of Cherry, it’s only fair to note. Tom was actually calm;  they could talk, but he wondered what Tim’s twisted mind had planned this time. Why the hell had Tim brought her here? 

Tim coughed, “are you guys sure?” 

“Why the fuck wouldn’t I be sure, Timothée?” Y/N questioned. “It’s my cousin, I should speak to her. None of your fucking business.” 

Tim frowned, she’d never spoken to him like that. 

Tom smirked, just lightly. 

“Of course,” Tim hissed. “But—“

“But what?” Y/N snapped. “You’re good to go, Cherry?” Cherry watched between everyone, she then directed a single glance to Tom. She was hurt, and Tom recognized that face. Not from Cherry, Cherry had the same face y/n had when he’d shown up at her house to give her the yellow flowers. The same damn face, so hurt. 

“Do you—“Tim pushed. 

“Oh my god, fucking leave her alone,” Tom interrupted again. “Can’t you for once fucking leave her alone?” 

Tim scoffed, “you’re one to talk?” 

Y/N rolled her eyes. “I—I’m not even going to—“ she left, Cherry carefully followed behind. 

Tim seemed stressed. 

Tom was angry, he was about to go back into y/n’s room, when Tim spoke again, “Why the fuck does she get back to you when you’re always the shittiest to her?” 

“I’m not going to fucking argue this with you,” Tom snapped. “I don’t even want to bloody ask why the fuck you brought Cherry here?” 

“How the fuck was I supposed to know—?”

 “No, fucking no, I dont bloody care and you know what? Also fucking leave Cherry alone I know your thing is going after vulnerable girls or whatever the fuck but—“

“I’m not—“

“Fucking stay away from them, both,” Tom warned. “Cherry doesn’t need a manipulative fucker like you.” 

Tim watched him with repulsion, “You do realize you hurt them both by doing exactly the fucking same? You were a piece of shit—“

“And are you fucking taking advantage of that? Are you going to bloody antagonize me again?” Tom barked. 

“You bloody antagonize yourself!” Tim yelled at him. “Like are you fucking serious? You really just fuck everything up, it’s so incredibly stupid. I am really just impressed by it.” 

“I know I fuck up, but I own it! You have no business in my relationship with y/n—“

“No, I know that—“

“And I don’t want you to fucking come close to her, You never bloody admit what you fucking do, you just fucking paint yourself as the hero when you know damn well you are manipulating them, and you are doing the same thing with Cherry?” Tom blurted, he knew that if y/n was gullible and vulnerable she didn’t even come near to Cherry. And Tom did care for Cherry, in his own way, and Tom did not want to see it again, Tim being painted as the hero. 

“Doing what?” Tim had his posture hard enough, arms crossed with his eyes burning with rage. He did not stand him. 

“For fuck’s sake, you don’t even see it?”

���What I see is you slept with y/n’s cousin and fucking tricked her again, both of them,” Tim snarked. “You were not here. You always come back when she’s doing better—You we’re not here when she was crying, she was so destroyed, yet again.” 

“Ah, yes I was living rainbows and butterflies,” Tom rolled his eyes. 

Tim could not believe Tom dared to be sarcastic. “You made a fucking mess yourself, the script wasn’t even that bad for starters and you were the one to ruin Emma’s engagement, only because you fucking assumed y/n loved Harry. Which is the one most stupid thing you’ve ever done in your life,” Tim continued. 

Tom only clenched his jaw. 

“You decided to make everything big as you always fucking do and not talk, because you—“

“How many words did she not get from you? Did you not bloody tell her I am her—what was it—perfidy?” 

Tim stayed quiet. 

“I’m not saying I wasn’t shit but you painted me as a—monster, yes that’s the word she used. I admit I broke her heart, but you don’t bloody know a thing about me and y/n—“Tom was fuming.

“I didn’t have to.” But Tim seemed cold now, and he was hearing it, 

“Why don’t you bloody realize it? Yes I’ve hurt y/n, but you’ve hurt her too much, too. She feels so guilty, you’ve managed to make her feel guilty for not loving you—That's why she does all of this—I—I can’t deal with this, there’s no bloody point. And I meant it, stay away from Cherry.” 

And Tim wasn’t in love, but he did fall, and until then he finally broke. Had he been breaking y/n all this time? 

previous chapter next chapter   perennial masterlist.

tag list   @spidxrparkxr​ @mukesnugget @anxiousdesignerdancerbandlover​ @happywolves81​   @happywolves81​ @happywolves81​ @happywolves81​    @applenter​ @claredolphinbear24​ @claredolphinbear24​   @tomshufflepuff​ @avengersgirllorianna​ @nevertoofarfromivar​ @nevertoofarfromivar​ @herofiennestiffinashardinscott.  @tomzfrog​ @dark-infernal-instruments​ @awkwardfangirl2014​ @awkwardfangirl2014​  @tomzfrog​​  @tomzfrog​ @xapham​ @xapham​ @tomhollandisagod​ @tomhollandisagod​ @laurfangirl424​ @vintageroses1014516 @cinnamon-roll-peter​   @the-lost-fairy-tale​ @the-lost-fairy-tale​ @lala-florez​ @lala-florez​    @ilcveyou3000 @xxtomxo @xxtomxo​ @muffinmari25   @cassindeansass  @rogers-obsessed-barnes-curious​ @southsidespideyy​ @nathaliabakes​ @nathaliabakes​ @nathaliabakes​ @embrace-themagic​ @bradfordbantams​ @sanniegirl1214​ @softholand  @softholand​ @fairytaleparker​ @fairytaleparker​ @griff1ndor​ @griff1ndor​ @thatweirdomimic​ @avengersgirllorianna​ @reginalaufeyson-holmes @better-daisy​ @yeahimcrying @allmonstersxarehuman @spider-manholland @spider-manholland​ @itstaskeen​ @georiaang @sebxstianbarnes​ @kissingtrutharchives​  @snoopy3000​ @snoopy3000​ @spideyparkerstark @fanfic-4-you @lexshead​ @lexshead​ @mannien​ @whitewolfandthefox​ @melodiclovesong​ @melodiclovesong​ @bizzlepotter​  @bizzlepotter​ @acceptance07​ @witchythingscore​ @witchythingscore​ @swaggyspiderman​ @localfangirlx​  @queengemsworld @liberty0123 @stiles-banshees​ @itsjusttor​ @stretchkingblog97 @annathesillyfriend​ @dangerousluv1​ @tomshufflepuff​ @thewayilookatbacon​ @petersdiaries @emjaywrites​ @emjaywrites​ @infamousmany @jungeunave @forevermore-euphoria @ispiderdudei @ispiderdudei @literalfsngirltrash @quacksonhq​ @it-is-rebel-owl-ma-dudes​ @desir-ae​ @desir-ae​ @desir-ae​ @peterporkpie​ @peterporkpie​ @smolpeachees @thenoddingbunny-blog​ @quackeroos​ @quackeroos​ @spideyyeet​ @astoldbydanid @astoldbydanid @hollandcreep​ @hollandcreep​ @milly7110​ @milly7110​ @rebekkah4766​ @farfromtommy​  @rubberducky-jrr​ @oh-whatabeautiful-parker @coveredinthemessimade​  @shameless-self-promo-of-a-shrub @sweetiesangster​ @thatdamjoke​ @annathesillyfriend​ @l0ove-sick-blues @witchythingscore​ @witchythingscore​ @bookworm06​  @bookworm06  @lala-florez​ @lala-florez​ @chaoticpete​ @shezzalockeddoctor​ @peeterparkr​ @peeterparkr​ @lowkey-love-loki​ @cosmichollands-blog​ @frenchfrostpudding @badbitchydecisions​ @w4ybefor3nir4na jj @saintlavrents​ @americaswritings​ @ilovepeterparker13​ @lukesbabylon​ @lukesbabylon​ @iamaunicorn4704​ @simple-things​ @simple-things​ @sip-portteam​  @herondale-snow-carstairs​ @tony-starks-ego​ @quaksonhehe0 @stargazerholland​ @marvelslut-musicalnerd @hotrubycrab @sovereignparker​ @peter-parker-tony-stank-trash​ @belleknows @mysticalinsomniac​ @nycparkers @nycparkers @anythingthaticareabout​ @spn-assemble-seven @tanyalooovesyou​ @somethingchaotic​  @heartofholland​ @peachybloomss @youcompletemesk​ @emyla3305 @emyla3305​–butt  @hollandstanevans​ @hollandstanevans​ @farfromtommy​ @southbeachfeeling​ @eridanuswave​ @tonguetiedholland​ @wolvesofthewinter​ @quacksonobrien @dcnerd98​ @ifntelyinspirit​ @electraheart-3174​ @julialucena5 @itsmilamawson @harryssuckz​ @harryssuckz​ @xstarbae​ @xstarbae​ @xstarbae​ @peterbparkerrwrites   @averyfosterthoughts @darethedragonknights​  @hannahholland1811​ @justanamesstuff​ @emyla3305​ @abbiefangirls247​ @onewithnomightypowers​ @itscaminow​ @youllbmineandillbeyoursbabelove @hotrubycrab  @spidey-holland-96​ @awkwardnesshabitat​ @geminiparkers@primadonnasdream @slytherinambitious​ @slytherinambitious​ @where-art-thau-romeo​ @viagracex​ @viagracex​ @sspidermanss​ @pcterparxer @whatevshollandarchive​ @aleyabee @aleyabee​ @lovewolfspirit​ @lovewolfspirit​  @xallyouneedislovexx @panicattheeverywherekid​  @pcterparxer @thehauntingofmymind​ @redhoodparker​ @redhoodparker @cakepopcriss @allthisfortommy @aleyabee​ @perspectiveparker @let-me-luve-you​ @xxpeachyxo​ @m-a-r-i-n-t-p @superstarchick @notjustpenandpaper​ @morbiddanvers @runaway3​ @runaway3​ @runaway3​  @lu-morningstar​ @th0ttie4tommy​ @th0ttie4tommy​ @riasaurusrex @frustratingpaperclip​ @readheadwriter​ @geesquariid​ @noxceleste​ @noxceleste​   @peterparker-rickybowen-mybabies @witchything​ @peterporkpie @bookworm06​ @panicattheeverywherekid​ @imthefloor @ohmyquackson​ @ohmyquackson​ @wangtan-boys​ @obiwanownsmyass​ @sadisticfries​ @not-some-docile-teenager @galaxystern08​ @lovemarvelousfics​ @tomzfrog @tomzfrog​ @thearchersupremacy​ @nikitajackson @dayazenn @the-fandom-life-forever​ @just-kickin-ass​ @quaksonhehe​ @dummiesshort​ @samaratheweirdo @fr3akingphantrash​ @i-love-superhero​ @mandeeleebeebee @captainamirica​ @dramaticdiva​ @halparkebitch​

[firelord-suki]

firelord-suki fanfiction masterpost

- Are there still beautiful things?

Summary: Levi and Hange were childhood best friends until his father was arrested and he had to move to another city. Now, twenty-one years later, both encounter each other again and have a chance to reignite their friendship. Will friends all they'll ever be? Is there a chance to build something more?

Inspired by the Taylor Swift song "Seven"

- Of thorns and petals

Summary: "Hey, Levi..." Hange smiled widely and prepared to ask him a stupid question. "No." They pouted. "You didn't even know what I was going to ask." "You were going to ask me to spend Valentine's Day with you." "Wrong!" They raised their finger at him like just they won an important argument. "I was gonna ask you to spend Valentine's eve with me. I can't leave the shop on the 14th."

Or a self-indulgent flower shop AU about two broken people dealing with grief and learning how open up again.

- Unkissable

Summary: "Both versions are horrible,"

"Greek myths tend to be." They were right. Greek tales were full of tragedy and death. Icarus, who flew too close to the sun. Medusa, who was abused, vilified, and then killed. King Midas' gold touch gift soon became a curse. It never ended well.

"Tell me a nice one," Levi asked, trying to get them to talk, trying to cheer them up. "No deaths, no terrible endings. Just a good, kind one."

- What the water gave me.

Summary: The Royal Mail Ship, or in short, RMS Titanic, was a 270 meters long, 28 meters wide structure. It weighed 45 thousand tons and could travel up to 24 knots. It received its name after the Titan legends Hange loved so much as a child..."

Hange Zoë is the only child of one of the most important men of Paradis Island. However powerful her family had become, she was kept in chains from her desired future, detained from her true inquisitive nature.

After boarding the ship of dreams, facing a night filled with nightmares and dealing with arranged proposals, Hange met Levi Ackerman, an underground boy who might help her to pursue true freedom.

Or A Levihan Titanic AU I decided to write instead of sleeping.

- I say that I hate you with a smile on my face.

Summary: “Separating from each other once was hard enough, but having to deal with that fate with each new visit was almost unbearable. Sometimes, Levi could hardly enjoy Hange’s company, the fatality of their separation always hanging in the air like rain waiting to pour.

With every departing hug shared, with every accepting tear shed, Levi left a bit of his shattered heart there. He’d murmur reassuring phrases to himself, just a few more years and she’ll be home.

Just a few more years. But that certain promise started to sound more like wishful thinking each time he whispered the words.”

Levi and Hange's relationship took a sharp turn after she decided to study abroad, both struggle and wonder if it's worth it to continue with their romance between constant fights and a growing distance.

- The intricacies of female sexuality.

Summary: “A guest forgot… something in their room.”

Levi raised a brow, trying to understand why exactly was that his problem. “Something?”

“She wouldn’t tell us what it was.” The blond general manager explained fast. “She said Hange would know..."

OR a Hotel AU where Levi and Hange got into an embarrassing situation.

- Two single beds.

Summary: "But his thoughts traveled back to her figure in a tight dress, dancing around with guys he didn’t know, their hands touching her body in places Levi wished he had the courage to. His mind wandered to what was going on behind the bathroom door, Hange naked and wet from the running water. He wished he could barge in and stay under the shower with her, panting and moaning until both were lying in the floor tiles."

- The silence of the flowers.

Summary: Levi said nothing and focused his attention on the endless sky that covered an endless scene. “Are you proud?” Hange continued, their words getting lost in the breeze.

Levi wished those words could reach the dead.

We’re here. Are you proud of us?

The only answer they got was the silence of the flowers."

- Open when I'm gone.

Summary: "She had learned, from a very young age, that every living being is born, grows old, and then dies. Some are fortunate enough to have a meaningful life before dying, or are lucky enough to afford it.

It’s a shame really, that Hange barely had the time to fully and unashamedly live before death decided to pay a visit."

- Our Little Talks

Summary: "It's been five years, seven months, and twenty-two days since Hange Zoe’s death, and Levi Ackerman had been avoiding the subject for just as long.

Hange was gone. She had left. And a piece of him was taken with it. To avoid any more missing pieces, to avoid more heartbreak, Levi ignored it. Those five ignorant years felt longer than necessary. Ignorance took more of him than grief."

The one where Hange's ghost decided to pay a visit to help her best friend heal (direct continuation to “Open when I’m gone”)

- Hidden in the woods.

Summary: With the beginning of the second world war, thousands of children were taken away from their homes in the urban areas and directed towards the rural parts of England for their safety. Hange Zoë, a 12-year-old girl, and daughter of a renowned Royal Air Force pilot, stood amidst those kids.

Saying goodbye to her father and brother wasn’t an easy task, especially when the chance of tragedy striking her family once more after her mother’s death was still present, but the prospect of meeting a new place and its people was an inviting experience to the girl.

Her new home carried a lot of novelty, and ever since Hange arrived, the forest that surrounded the place seemed to call for her soul to come inside. With the help of Levi Ackerman, a closed-off resident of the town, Hange wants to find out all of the secrets that lay beyond the path of those tall and ominous trees.

-  A million years of waiting.

Summary: Hange decided to give up on chasing useless dreams – or that’s what they tried to believe. The long-lost memories continued to make appearances during the nights, the phantom touches from another life still reverberated on their body, and the absence of someone else grew bolder with each passing day.

During those days, weeks, and then months, longing and loneliness walked hand in hand. The more they dreamed about the unknown, the more they missed it.

- Paradis Hotel

Summary: “Let’s make a bet right now.” Hange proposed, flaunting a wide grin once Levi glanced in her direction.

“What kind of bet?” He couldn’t help but ask, despite the logical side of his brain screaming that it was a terrible idea to fall in further into Hange’s playfulness. That was his workplace, after all.

“If I’m right, you’ll have to wear a maid costume for an entire shift–”

“Absolutely not.”“If I’m wrong,” She continued, promptly ignoring his protests “you get to go on a date with me.”

 -  Sentimental 

Summary: They started moving from side to side, not quite aware of the particular steps of that local dance and loosely following the lazy tempo of the song. The movements were slow and careless, something completely different from their affair. Their relationship was always sharp and methodical; secret encounters away from the spotlight, different hotel rooms that smelled like liquor and roses, late-night conversations about the future of their careers, and an unspoken agreement to never fall in love, after all, they didn’t need another set of problems.

With the whole picture into perspective, Hange had been playing a losing game. Sometimes, all she wanted to do was let go of the ledge and just fall.

-  Bound by time

Summary: Levi was so damn lonely that he traveled miles just so he could sit against the ruins of the past to write in a stranger’s diary, wishing for an answer. And for now, there was one. Someone to share his thoughts with, someone who waited for him too. There, Levi didn’t feel so damn lonely anymore.

“Hey, Hange. Tell me more about the stars.”

Reincarnation AU. Levi and Hange communicate through entries on the same diary.

-  Before fate pulls us apart

Summary: "He had been denying his feelings for so long that he didn’t even know what to call them.He had found the person he cared for the most, yet, under the heavy fog of love, he knew there was nothing he could do to protect them forever. His insides blazed on fire, the smoke would suffocate him slowly. 

But if it would kill him anyway, why not take this chance? Now, not later. Now, before the war pulled them apart again."

Prompt: Levi and Hange go on a not-date with the ODM gear.

[popculturebuffet]

Shadow Into Light (Lena Retrospective): Magica’s Shadow War

Hello all you happy people! And welcome back to Shadow Into Light, my look at the life and times of Lena Sabrewing. We’re in the end stretch, just two more installments after this: one covering what may be my favorite episode, and the other covering Lena’s season 3 appearances, as unlike Seasons 1 and 2 she shows up outside her own episodes fairly often and most of those apperances touch on how far she’s come or her life in some way shape or form, so I really can’t skip over them. 

But before we can get to the end of Lena’s arc, we have to once again go back where she came from. Previously I covered the one and only apperance of Minima DeSpell, a character Lena took some inspiration from. But Lena is a combination of Minima and another Ducktales 87 character but this time one from the show itself, in the same episode we meet Magica no less. Given how much frank loved the original, it’s not a huge shock one of the most vital and intresting new characters from the reboot was partially taken from an episode he probably watched 80 dozen times. So how does the original shadow stack up with her rebooted counterpart? Is the episode any good? And should I watch invincible. The answers to this question are under the cut!

To answer your question on invincible.. Yeah you should. It’s gorgeously animated, has a MASSIVELY talented and diverse cast, and perfectly adapts the original source: Adding in great new stuff and shuffling things around to work better for the pacing of a tv show. And after loosing The Tick to Amazon’s greasy clutches, not to mention Danger and Eggs and Alpha House before that with no formal cancelation so they coudln’t move elsewhere, i’m not taking any chances despite the odds being far more in invincibles favor. Check it out, just mind that it has a shocking amount of gore, if you like superheroes.  Or even if you don’t, it’s pretty much guaranteed to have someone you like doing a voice. 

Enough shilling for an unrelated show though, let’s get to this one. We open with our introduction to the De Spells. Magica is hovering over a caludron with a diabolical new plan to steal Scrooge’s #1 dime. Why? 

Or at least I didn’t. I knew why she wanted the dime itself mind you: The Dime has picked up some powerful emotoinal energy from being around Scrooge all his life as he built his fortune, made his way square and fought Teddy Roosevelt. All that good stuff. So naturally if used in a spell, that spell is going to be massively powerful. I just didn’t know what the spell was.. and now I do.. i’mmm underwhelmed. She wants it to gain the midas touch, i.e. the ablility to turn things she touches into gain, using the dime as a power source for an amulet. 

 Magica, via her potions and spells has the powers to do just about ANYTHING. And her goal is.. make some things into gold. She has a giant volcano laier, whatever resources she needs to go after Scrooge, and in this series at least can buy a haunted house on a whim. She HAS money.. why would she need this. And second... the midas touch is a bad thing. You cant’ USE or enjoy anything because it turns to gold> That was the whole fucking point of the myth. If it removes the weakness than fine.. but again it seems like a lot of effort for something with a short range and heavy possible drawbacks. I tfits her personalty to a point but even then she has better spells. I’m going more with it simply allowing her to supercharge.. is it more simplisti? yes. Does it make more sense than “Give myself a power that can easily be turned back on me by just making me touch myself “ yes, yes it is. 

Meanwhile the boys dick around playing Candid Camera with a new camera Gyro gave them that is no more advanced than your average instant camera. You’d expect this new invention to come in handy against Shadow Magica. And you’d be right. You’d expect the boys to at least suggest hte idea before the climax. You’d be wrong. This big is just.. irrtating. It’s just the boys being dicks to everyone by taking embarssing photos and really adds nothing to the episode of any remote subtsnace.

Conversley Magica continues to be the highlight, as her check in with airport security gets her through as she has no fruit. Ah the days before they throughly scanned us and most tsa jokes were about shoving hands up someone’s ass. Seriously.. why. .why is that a common joke. I’ve never had it done but unless you fully consent to it it’s not fun to get your hand up there but it was an oddly common gag for a long time.I.. really don’t get it. 

She arrives in america and buys a haunted house, to the realtor’s shock but eh it’s a sale. The black mold just makes it more sinister. Magica sicks Shadow Magica on the bin, with an elaborate plan but giving the Shadow one hour to do it because otherwise it will disapate.. given it dosen’t it’s likely more Magica trying to keep her double in line, having ran into trouble earlier with shadow her trying to steal the wallet of what I can only assume to be gus goose. So he was on vacation tha’ts where he was.. from what I don’t know he dosen’t actually do work and the house of mouse hadn’t been established yet. Maybe Gramma Duck just gives him vacation days. 

So the shadow ALMOST gets away with the dime.. but accidnetly knocks over a pedestal and warns Scrooge and the Boys, who manage to chase her off. Scrooge having only one magical nemisis in his Rogues gallery, that we know of, knows who did this and prepares for an attack.  Magica.. berates her doppleganger and while she considers a spell to power her up, decides against it since what would stop the Shadow from betraying her. The shadow agrees.. and locks Magica and Poe in a closet and makes the potion herself, taking on a creepy new form and planning to raise an ARMY of shadows. 

And here... is where the split between Lena and The Shadow is very deefinite. While Frank and Matt kept the shadow and Magica really not getting along and only working together out of necisity on both ends.. the shadow here REALLY is just magica. Just as evil and ambitious, and just as sneaky. The only diffrence between the two is the shadow’s logical weaknesses of being a shadow, i.e. light weakens her and she can only hide in darkness or other shadows, and how they were born. Shadow magica is every bit as evil and devious as the main one. I do get why she stuck in Frank’s brain though: the idea is simple but ingenious, someone’s shadow gaining sentience, and the cool tricks you get with that as she ducks and darts between shadows. It’s really good stuff and frank expertly expanded it with lena, making her basically humanoid duck other than where she came from, but still using the neat tricks with the shadow itself for Magica’s imprisoned form and later the shadow army. It’s a good example of taking a really good idea.. and making it even better, by having said shadow being deal with not being considered a person by the person who spawned her and really ramping up the idea of a shadow army, which Shadow Magica eventually summons, from about ten guys to an entire cities worth. The shadows also you know come from people instead of just thin air but semantics. Point is it’s a very good concept and done really well esepcially for the 87 cartoon, and while Frank’s take was unique and very well done, it dosen’t make the original any less good. 

And it’s shown off with a cool sequence of the shadow infiltrating the manor and nearly getting to the dime with Scrooge having rigged the place to all hell with lights as a percaution. It nearly wins but louie uses a shadow puppet to scare it off. While Scrooge ponders this latest attack Poe shows up, and offers Magica’s help.. but Scrooge rightly dosen’t want it, as he can’t trust her and only agrees when the boys bring up the power bill from keeping the lights on. 

Now getting Magica on board is not an idea: The shadow’s a threat to both of them and they need each other. The next part though.. is a bit stupid and drags the episode down a bit. Magica asks for the dime to beat the thing. Now Scrooge wisely is hesitant to do so.. but everyone else treats it like his usual greedy antics. Thing is.. it’s not. We don’t, at least in this adaptation, know what Magica wants with the thing or the full extent of what she can do with it or if she even actually needs it. While getting her help is one thing, giving her the DIME well...] ]’ii98[[

Why would you give someone you KNOW wants to use the dime to conquer the world or whatever the thing she wants? It’d be like handing Thanos the Infnity Gauntlet to take out Galactus. Yes, your handling a big problem.. but your burning the world to do it. It’s just so frustratlingly dumb. There’s a good idea in there, Scrooge being forced to lend Magica the dime, but it’s buried under Mt. Contrivance! 

So Scrooge reluctantly goes along with operation:seemed like a good idea at the time, and cleverly puts the dime in an empty stadium. Unfortuantley the lights malfunction and Shadow Magica summons MORE Shadows, and now has an army. Launchpad ends up being helpful, also he’s in this episode for some reason, by pointing out shadows need light.. and thus another logical weakness as killing the rest of the lights renders them weak and allows our heroes to lure them to the vault where Magica waits> Magica is able to weaken it with the spell.. but even with that the Shadow SITLL is too powerful.. 

Enter the cameras, which take out Shadow Magica, saving the day. We get a lesson about trusting Gyro’s gadgets for.. some reason and Scrooge stops Magica from fleeing with the dime with a shadow puppet. Smiles and cheese sandwitches all around

Final Thoughts on Magica’s Shadow War: This episode is not half bad. While the Dime Thing is mindblowingly moronic, and the camera thing is REALLY poorly set up, I have not had a more apt use for that Scott Pilgrim Panel yet, the sheer concept and June Foray’s sheer force of personality as both magica’s makes it work. It’s a fun, engaging adventure and a solid chonk of classic ducktales. As for how it relates to Lena it does so decently. But with this our side trips are at an end. Only two episodes left! And then onward to the lilo and stitch crossover arc! Yes really. Kev wanted a buffer before getting to the Season 2 arcs and I loved tha tshow as a kid so why the fuck not. 

Next Time on Shadow Into Light: Lena gets welcomed to prime time bitch as Magica pulls a freddy and stalks her through her dreams. Sadly she did indeed forgot about the power glove. Can the rest of the kids break away from dreams of high school musicals, becoming a garfild, giant legs and libraries long enough to save Lena? Will we have a very queer in the best way possible musical number about Lena and Webby’s anniversary? Will I talk about Huelet? In order, yes, yes, and probably. But join me anyways won’t you. 

If you liked this reviews, subscribe for more. If you have a ducktales episode from seasons 1 and 2 of the reboot or the whole of the 87 series, drop me a line through my ask box, my dm’s or my discord, technicolormuk#6550. Reviews or only 5 bucks an episode for tv. Other prices on the blog. Or if you can’t spare that much, join my patreon. Even a buck or two a month helps reach my stretch goals and the more of those I hit the more disney content you get a month. The current one is only 5 bucks away. I’m 15 and if I hit 20 that guarantees a darkwing duck review every month AND reviews of the super ducktales mini series. But if you can’t that’s cool and I get it times are hard, it’s why I have to shill so hard. But until the next rainbow, it’s been a pleasure. 

[onlythebrave-91]

Analysis of “champagne problems” by Taylor Swift

I love champagne problems so much and I think about the lyrics all the time so I thought I would write out my thoughts on it. 

Verse 1:

You booked the night train for a reason

So you could sit there in this hurt

Bustling crowds or silent sleepers

You're not sure which is worse

The song opens with vivid imagery of a train station. She poses a good question, when you're heartbroken, would you rather be in a crowd of people or alone with your thoughts?

Chorus: 

Because I dropped your hand while dancing

Left you out there standing

Crestfallen on the landing

Champagne problems

The chorus opens with one of Taylor’s most frequent metaphors, a comparison of love to dancing. She has used this metaphor numerous times since her first album fifteen years ago but she somehow keeps coming up with inventive ways to reimagine it. Here, she uses it to describe the moment the woman rejected the proposal. He thought she would say yes, but she rejected him, leaving him without a dance partner.

She also uses beautiful imagery to describe the proposal. Details have always been one of the greatest strengths of Taylor’s writing. The more detailed she gets, the more powerful and universally relatable her music seems to be. “Your heart was glass, I dropped it” pulls the image together perfectly and makes you feel like you're standing right there, watching his face as he realizes that he’s losing her.

Verse 2:

You told your family for a reason

You couldn't keep it in

Your sister splashed out on the bottle

Now no one's celebrating

This verse reveals how sure he was that she would say "yes". He told his friends and family and brought champagne to celebrate. It also reveals more about their relationship- how well did he really know her if he didn’t even realize how much she was struggling? Why was he so sure she would say "yes"?

Chorus 2:

Dom Pérignon, you brought it

No crowd of friends applauded

Your hometown skeptics called it

Champagne problems

You had a speech, you're speechless

Love slipped beyond your reaches

And I couldn't give a reason

Champagne problems

This song addresses the fact that we often don’t acknowledge mental illness for what it is. We like to avoid topics that make us uncomfortable so when we talk about people with mental illnesses we often use euphemisms like “crazy” or “psycho” which dehumanizes and belittles people. In this case, the people in her hometown say she has “champagne problems”.

Bridge: 

Your Midas touch on the Chevy door

November flush and your flannel cure

"This dorm was once a madhouse"

I made a joke, "Well, it's made for me"

How evergreen, our group of friends

Don't think we'll say that word again

And soon they'll have the nerve to deck the halls

That we once walked through

One for the money, two for the show

I never was ready, so I watch you go

Sometimes you just don't know the answer

'Til someone's on their knees and asks you

"She would've made such a lovely bride

What a shame she's stuck in her head, " they said

But you'll find the real thing instead

She'll patch up your tapestry that I shred

Taylor is known for writing brilliant bridges and this is easily one of, if not the, best bridge she has ever written. The imagery, the metaphors, the alliteration, the allusions, all come together into perfect storytelling.

“Your Midas touch on the Chevy door": In Greek mythology, Midas turned everything he touched into gold. Although this made him rich, he quickly realized that turning things to gold was a lot more trouble than it was worth. In the end, he tragically turns his daughter to gold, killing her. One of Taylor’s common motifs is using the colours red, blue, and gold, to represent different types of relationships. Typically, a golden relationship is a happy one. But in this case, she is saying that their love is falsely happy. A Chevy made of gold certainly wouldn't work very well. Their love appears golden, but ultimately it doesn't function the way it should. In champagne problems, the man sees his partner as better off than she actually is. She is struggling, but he only sees the parts of her he wants to see.

"November flush and your flannel cure": This is one of my favourite lyrics of the whole song. It has attention-grabbing alliteration and vivid imagery. It’s a creative reimagining of the cliche rom-com moment where the guy gives the girl his jacket to keep her warm. It shows that their relationship wasn’t all bad. Even though she may not be emotionally in the right place to get married, she sees him as a good man who cared for her.

"This dorm was once a madhouse"/I made a joke, "Well it's made for me". We've all made a self-deprecating joke at one time or another and this conversational line makes the narrator feel more real and relatable.

"How evergreen, our group of friends/Don't think we'll say that word again": This is the first time in the song where she uses plural pronouns, “our” and “we”. She’s acknowledging that their relationship is over now and they will no longer be doing things together.

"And soon they'll have the nerve to deck the halls/That we once walked through": As much as this breakup is devastating to them, the world keeps turning and soon enough their friends will keep living their lives normally. Earlier in the song, she said, “Your heart was glass, I dropped it”. After something that devastating happens to a person, it's hard to believe that the world keeps going, but it does.

"One for the money, two for the show/I never was ready, so I watch you go": This line comes from a nursery rhyme. In full the rhyme is "One for the money, Two for the show; Three to make ready, And four to go."

It is traditionally used to mark the beginning of a race or game. This is a really clever way of saying that she wasn't ready to get married.

"'She would've made such a lovely bride/What a shame she's stuck in her head,' they said": This line ties back to the idea that people often use crude or dehumanizing language to refer to people with mental illness. This adds to her loneliness, she doesn't have anyone in her life who properly respects her. Their friends and "hometown skeptics" see it as her fault that their relationship ended without acknowledging that her partner didn't recognize how much she was struggling.

Chorus 3 and Outro:

And hold your hand while dancing

Never leave you standing

Crestfallen on the landing

With champagne problems

Your mom's ring in your pocket

Her picture in your wallet

You won't remember all my

Champagne problems

You won't remember all my

Champagne problems

"But you'll find the real thing instead/She'll patch up your tapestry that I shred/And hold your hand while dancing/Never leave you standing/Crestfallen on the landing/With champagne problems": As we return to the dancing metaphor, we see that she hopes her partner will find someone someday who can treat him better than she can. She repeats the same description of the proposal as before, this time with the pronouns "she" and "her" instead of "I" and "my". It also shows that the reason she rejected him may not be just because she doesn't feel ready for marriage, but also that she feels insecure. She doesn't feel like she's enough for him.

[cali-holland]

Golden Bullets, Ch 5: Kiss of Death

Harrison Osterfield X Reader, James Bond!AU

Harrison Osterfield, Agent 007, was once the best MI6 agent around with the astounding reputation as a womanizer. Between illegal gold smuggling and black market trading of weapons, he finds himself deeper in his latest mission than intended, weaving himself into a web of the criminal organization, S.P.E.C.T.R.E.. At the center of it all is the one woman who’s never fallen for his charms- you, Agent 006, the best MI6 agent, the new assistant director of the program, and his new partner.

Word Count: 6500

Gif is not mine- but it is from the bad blood music video haha

Golden Bullets Masterlist

Masterlist   Harrison Osterfield Masterlist

Let me know if you want to be added to the series tag list

Warnings: violence (unnamed character death, motorcycle chase!, tranquilizer darts, grenades, weaponized ordinary objects?, self-inflicted wound), swearing, sexual themes

Featured Song: Goldfinger by Shirley Bassey from Goldfinger (1964)

~ “Goldfinger, He's the man, the man with the Midas touch, a spider's touch. Such a cold finger beckons you to enter his web of sin, but don't go in”

A/N: Reposting so hopefully the tags work...

~~~

The journey to Montenegro was certainly a long one- it made you regret fleeing from Monaco so quickly, remembering how much faster a private jet was compared to traveling by car, even though the DB10 was plenty fast. Harrison seemed upset to say goodbye to the precious car, but once he saw the old-school DB5 waiting for you two at the airport in Montenegro, all thoughts of the new car went away. By the time you made it to the hotel, you both had to get ready for the gala. It was odd for a private banker who deals with terrorists to host a charity gala, you suspected it was to compensate for illegal funds, but that was a different case for a different time.

“Wear the red one again.” Harrison said, watching you contemplate between a few dresses as he stepped out of the bathroom in his slacks and dress shirt.

“We haven’t exactly done laundry since that night so it still has blood on it.” You replied, setting the blood-spattered red dress aside as you grabbed out a black dress and a white one, still unsure which would be more fitting tonight. You personally loved the white one, but the black had the sleeves to cover your bullet wound.

“I think the white will show the blood even more.” He teased, adjusting the collar of his own white shirt.

“I’m not supposed to make this personal, remember?”

“Trust me, I remember, but we haven’t exactly had smooth runnings so far. I expect blood at this point.” Harrison laughed as you just scoffed and left to change in the bathroom with the black dress. Amused, he pulled on his black suit jacket, nothing new nor unusual for him to wear, but still a classic go-to of his.

“How much longer until you’re ready?” He asked you, leaning against the bathroom door a little as he adjusted his suit’s collar and cuff links.

“I’d be ready sooner if someone didn’t take so damn long in the bathroom.” You called back, strapping on your thigh holster that could be easily concealed under the dress. You slipped on the dress, examining your arm in the mirror to make sure no part of the bandage was showing. The glittery black dress was just as suiting to your figure as the red dress, but more conservative with longer sleeves and a shallower neckline. Plus, the leg slit wasn’t nearly as high as it was on the previous dress- while you liked to flash a little leg in these sorts of dresses, you didn’t exactly need to be Angelina Jolie with every dress having an incredibly high slit.

Harrison padded across the room, leaning on the wall right beside the window, overlooking the busy city below him. He thumbed the gold flash drive in his hands and looked down at it curiously. He’d never noticed the small octopus imprint on it with the initials R. S. beside it. It was so small, it was easy to miss it. This had to be Silva’s flash drive; there was no other reasonable option for him. He sighed, mumbling, “Come on, Q, where are you?”

“Did you say something?” You asked as you stepped out of the bathroom in your dress, grabbing your heels from beside your suitcase. Propping one foot onto the chair, you leaned over and slipped on your heel. Harrison turned to face you, his breath catching in his throat. He’d never admit it to you, but you certainly had this power over him (he’d already admitted you terrified him, so he wasn’t about to say anything else). You switched to your other foot and glanced over at him, “Osterfield? Did you say something a moment ago?”

“Just thinking aloud.” He said, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. He hoped you hadn’t picked up on the pink tint that he could tell had overcome his ears by now. Stepping towards you, he asked, “You ready?”

“Almost. Need some lipstick.” You went to grab your lipstick bag from the coffee table, but Harrison, who was much closer it, grabbed it first. Seeing how careless he was with the bag, clearly thinking it was just lipstick, you jumped and snatched the bag from him, “Are you trying to kill us?”

“What? They’re just lipstick?” Harrison replied, confused by your reaction. You were acting like it was a bomb, which some parts were.

“I have grenades in here.” You said, opening up the bag and choosing the right shade to go with your look for the evening. As you applied it, Harrison peered in the bag, further confused as he saw only gold, silver, and black lipstick tubes. “Black are regular lipsticks, gold are grenades, and silver are tranq darts.”

“Q’s getting too creative.” He looked at the bag in disbelief.

“He’s a genius. I didn’t think I’d need to use tranq darts, but they come in handy.” You stated, grabbing a silver lipstick from the bag and taking off the cap to show the small needle in place of actual lipstick. You put the lipstick away and slipped a small gun into your thigh holster while Harrison put one in his holster across his back, hidden by his suit.

“Ready, angel?” Harrison asked smugly, holding an arm out to you.

“Let’s go get ourselves a banker and a sniper.” You stated as you took his arm and the two of you left the hotel room.

The hotel’s banquet hall had been immaculately transformed into the gala’s venue. Tall, intricately designed pillars lined the outer area of the hall, almost like a courtyard would. Large round tables were dawned with golden tablecloths and delicate white decorations. While the setup of the gala was all so spotlessly beautiful, you still felt on edge about Le Chiffre’s presence.

After quickly taking in the new surrounding to spot the best vantage points and the weakest ones, your eyes found Le Chiffre. Across the hall, the ominous banker was easily recognizable with his hauntingly pale complexion and even more hauntingly white eye as he talked with another man dressed sharply in a tux. He casually wiped his pale eye with a handkerchief, cleaning up the blood from his face.

“Does he often bleed from his eye?” Harrison asked you quietly, the two of you making your way to a table in a corner.

“It’s called haemolacria.” You explained, “It’s caused by disease or, in his case, trauma to the eye.”

“Let me guess, you caused it?” A small smirk playing on his lips at the thought of you permanently and physically damaging Le Chiffre.

“God, I wish. That’d be 009 taking his revenge for me. Probably part of the reason he was killed.” You let out a small sigh, thinking of your fallen agent. It only made you want to kill the blood-weeping man across the room even more. Harrison casually pulled out a chair for you. Tonight, your cover was as a couple because, unlike at the casino with Sciarra, neither of you needed to flirt with anyone, so the two of you sitting with each other, with Harrison’s arm draped around the back of your chair, was professional for tonight. It was certainly more professional than Venice.

Not long into the event itself and you spotted a familiar blonde clad in her iconic gold step into the bustling gala. There was a man by her side, wearing a black bowler hat; he was not close enough to her for you to call him potentially her date, but his presence just made you more suspicious. You mumbled, “Galore just got here. But who’s that with her?”

“Oddjob.” Harrison answered as he recognized the Korean at her side, “I met him when I went after Silva. I thought Oddjob was simply an assassin, but he must be working with Goldfinger, especially if he’s here with Galore.”

Your jaw clenched as you saw Galore’s gaze focus on Le Chiffre. If she, a trained sniper as it is, was here with an assassin, they were going to kill Le Chiffre before you even got the chance. You watched as she slowly made her way to a far table with Oddjob, the two sitting down and striking up a conversation with the rest of the sharp dressed people around them. Your fingers grazed over the very slight outline of your gun over your dress; you were itching to pull it on Le Chiffre.

“Are you alright, Y/N?” Harrison asked you, noticing your change in demeanor at Galore and Oddjob’s presence.

“Excuse me. I need to freshen up.” You muttered before getting up from your chair quickly. You made your way towards the exit before ducking behind a pillar. Your eyes trained on Le Chiffre, who was slowly making his way over towards you while he talked to another man.

The room was so loud and crowded, giving you the perfect opportunity to take him out. You slowly took out your gun and held it up to shoot Le Chiffre, perfectly aimed at his heart. Just as you were about to pull the trigger, Harrison appeared behind you, grabbing your hands and twisting you until he had you pinned to the wall. His body pressed yours to the wall and he looked at you with a frown, pinning your hands down at your hips, hiding your gun with his open suit jacket.

“Damn it, I had him.” You seethed quietly through gritted teeth.

“You’re going to get us killed.” He replied, stern blue eyes never leaving yours.

“I need to kill him.”

“No, you don’t. You don’t need to kill him. Agent 009 wouldn’t want you to kill him, not now when we need him alive.” Harrison looked around briefly, catching sight of Le Chiffre and his men headed straight towards the two of you. “He’s coming. Do you trust me?”

“Not particularly.” You answered. He didn’t give you much choice in the manner, crashing his lips against yours. The kiss was rough yet still full of passion, but you knew he only meant it as a distraction, nothing more. He had one hand against the wall as his other wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You kept your gun hidden in his suit, clutching to the metal tightly under his silk lined jacket. Your free hand took hold in his hair, tugging on it to really put on the show of just another handsy couple getting it on behind a pillar- the classic move.

But then, he moaned. Harrison moaned softly into the kiss, despite Le Chiffre and his men clearly being too far to hear it. That was enough to pull you back to reality. This was your partner and you were on a stakeout mission together. You were supposed to be watching Le Chiffre (because god forbid you shot the bastard), and you definitely weren’t supposed to be making out with Harrison.

“Keep an eye on him.” Harrison whispered into your ear. He slowly and teasingly kissed his way down your neck, smirking against your skin as your body involuntarily pressed further into him when he found your sweet spot. You kept your eyes on Le Chiffre, watching him move throughout the room, but Harrison’s lips moving on your neck made it hard for you to focus. Feeling him nip at your skin, you shifted your hand, pushing the end of your gun against his back.

“I’ll shoot you if you leave a hickey.” You mumbled.

“Give me a matching scar, yeah?” He murmured, his hand trailing down to your hip, pressing gently over where he knew your bullet wound scar was. You clenched your jaw at his words, and he went back to kissing your neck. He seemed to be rather enjoying this optimal situation for spying on Le Chiffre. You, on the other hand, were still conflicted about if you did like it or not. While it wasn’t a bad thing to have his hands and lips all over you, you still felt-

“Harrison.” You breathed out, your eyes trained on Pussy Galore as she stood from her table, her own eyes never leaving Le Chiffre. Harrison pulled back to look at you, his lips slightly swollen from their work.

“What did you just call me?” He asked, and you bit back a groan from your slip up. This whole time, you’d done so well at keeping this somewhat professional, but his damn lips had an effect on you. A smirk grew on his face as he noticed your hesitation. “You just said my first name, Y/N.”

“Galore just got up.” You said quietly, eyes flickering over to the woman dressed in gold, who was stalking over towards Le Chiffre at the bar. You quietly cocked your gun, hand still nuzzled in his jacket. You looked at him as a way to ask for permission to shoot- not really caring if you shot Galore or Le Chiffre.

“Don’t.” He said softly. “M said-“

You started to move your hand out from his jacket and he quickly grabbed your arm, stopping you from pulling it out all the way. You glared at him, staring him down as a way to wordlessly will him to let go. Before either of you could budge on the subject, a gunshot rang out. Immediately, he dropped your arm, pulling out his own gun as you did the same, both of you jumping into action and aiming at the source.

Le Chiffre was dead. Galore had shot him in cold blood, in the middle of the gala. Oddjob took out the cameras as Galore shot at Le Chiffre’s men. In an instant, they were all dead, and Harrison pocketed his gun and quickly grabbed your hand.

“Come on, we need to go.” He said as crowds of people rushed out of the gala around you.

“We need to bring her in.” You argued, stepping towards her and he yanked your hand back, making you stagger. While your words made it seem like Galore was your priority, Harrison could see the anger in your eyes as you looked at Le Chiffre’s body- the same anger that comes from unsatisfied vengeance.

“If we go out there now, you’ll kill her or she’ll kill you. You’re-” Harrison paused, unsure if he should finish his sentence. His hesitation made you turn to him, questioningly.

“I’m what?” You spat. He sighed, tugging on your hand again, and this time you put your gun away and followed behind to the stairs- the elevators were unfortunately occupied by screaming civilians that neither of you wanted to deal with.

“You’re too emotional over this.” He said once the two of you got into the stairwell. “Y/N, you know this isn’t the right time to go after Galore. M specifically said to not go after her if you’re in this state.” “M? What did M tell you?” You questioned, dropping his hand as you two raced up the stairs. He immediately regretted his words; you were too perceptive for his own good.

“It’s nothing.” Harrison stated.

“If it was nothing, we’d be downstairs going after her.” You scoffed.

A tense, bitter silence remained between the two of you as you got back to the hotel room. You immediately grabbed a change of clothes and locked yourself in the bathroom, too infuriated by Le Chiffre’s death and whatever the hell M had told Harrison to really care about your partner. Equally annoyed at the situation, Harrison immediately took off his suit jacket, tossing it to the side.

“Call room service. We need more towels.” Harrison heard you shout from the bathroom. He let out a sigh, trudging over to the phone to call in the order. Considering there were approximately a dozen dead bodies downstairs in the banquet hall, he wasn’t that surprised when they didn’t pick up; the hotel certainly had other things to worry about.

“I’m going downstairs for them.” He called to you through the bathroom and grabbed his suit jacket, quickly tugging it on, not even waiting for a response before he left.

On the other side of the door, you let out a frustrated sigh at the fact that there were no bath towels- what kind of hotel forgets to put bath towels in a cleaned room? Hearing the door close, you peeked your head outside the bathroom to find that he had actually left. You grabbed your dress, now that you were changed into some comfortable leggings and a t-shirt for bed, and stuffed it back in your bag. You weren’t sure how long Harrison was going to be so you busied yourself with tidying up your luggage at least, but leaving out your weapons in case you needed them.

As for Harrison, his journey to the front desk for some more towels was cut short. The moment he stepped out of the hotel room, he ran into none other than Pussy Galore, no Oddjob in sight.

“Harrison?” Galore called out with a fond smile on her face as she recognized him almost immediately. If he didn’t know she was a spy for Goldfinger, he would’ve been creeped out by the fact that a woman who flirted with him in a bustling Monaco casino could recognize him here and now just a few days later in a Montenegro hotel.

“Pussy,” He smiled back at her kindly, doing his best not to give away anything. He knew who she was, but there was no telling if she knew about him. Effortlessly, he flicked on his charm, eyeing her up and down.

“What are you doing in Montenegro? Are you following me?” She joked, her laugh sweet like honey, perfectly hiding any underlying motives.

“I don’t know, darling. Are you following me?” He teased back.

“Maybe.” She smirked, and he believed her word for a moment before she continued, “No, I’m really here for work. And you?”

“Wanted a bit of a vacation.” Harrison lied, not like it mattered whether he told her the truth or not anyway. “I was about to head down and get some towels. Room service seemed to forget about my room.” He explained with a laugh, pointing down the hall towards the elevator. Galore placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning in to whisper in his ear.

“I have a few extra in my room. I could always bring them to you or you could come back with me?” She said sultrily. Harrison forced down a lump in his throat as he felt her lips brush his neck. He would’ve said yes, jumping immediately at the opportunity to spend a good portion of the evening with the ravishing woman, but he couldn’t- not when you were the only one on his mind, and you were just on the other side of the door. Galore pulled away from him, a playful smile on her face. “While you think about it, I’ll be in my room just down the hall, room 504.”

She left for her room without Harrison so much as moving an inch. He casually slipped back into your shared room, trying to think of how to tell you about his encounter. You looked over at him from your spot on the bed, where you had been flicking mindlessly through the tv channels.

“You’re back quickly.” You stated without even an attempt to hide your remaining annoyance at him. You stood up from the bed, eyeing him and the lack of towels in his hands suspiciously. As you studied his face, you immediately recognized the pink shade of lipstick now on his collar.

“I just ran into Pussy Galore.” Harrison said.

“Ran into her or made out with her?” You questioned.

“I did no such thing.” He scoffed, offended by your claim. “She invited me back to her hotel room.”

“So why are you here?” You rolled your eyes at him, making your way past him to go get the damn towels yourself. Harrison grabbed your wrist, pinning you and it to the wall, and your free hand flew to grab his neck, but he blocked it with his other hand. Before you could attempt to kick him away, his knees pressed into yours, making his entire body mold yours into the wall. You grumbled in frustration, “Get off me and go back to your whore of a girlfriend. Or, better yet, let me go kill her myself.”

“No, I won’t let you.” He bit back.

“Oh, that’s rich, you telling me what to do now. Is that what M put you up to? God, I loathe you.” You scowled at him.

“I loathe you.” Harrison muttered, and the room fell silent as the two of you breathed heavily, trailing from each other’s eyes to each other’s lips. While he still had your hands pinned to the wall, you leaned forward and kissed him.

The kiss was rougher than the previous one at the gala, but it was needier, steamier, more passionate, authentic. You let your tongue slip between your interlocked lips and into his mouth, feeling his body move even more into yours as you did so, hips moving ever so slightly against yours. He let go of one of your hands to grab the small of your back, and his other hand intertwined with yours, still keeping it against the wall. Your own free hand roamed his shirt collar before tugging at the hairs at the back of his neck. The whole kiss was so similar to the previous one, yet so different- it was the truly steamy kiss between the womanizer and the seductress.

After a few heated moments, his mouth left yours to trail hot kisses down your throat. His hand let go of yours to fist at the fabric of your shirt and pull you even further against him. You grabbed his shoulders and flipped the two of you so, now, he was the one against the wall, and you let your hands get busy under his shirt, ghosting over his abs in the process.

Feeling him start to suck on your sweet spot on your neck, you breathed out, “I swear to god if there’s a mark there tomorrow-“

“You’ll shoot me in the dick? What is it with you and hickeys?” He cut you off, pulling his head away from you to give his best shit-eating grin, one that made your knees feel weak. It soon shifted into his classic smirk, “If this goes any further, you could finally fulfill that fantasy of yours, angel.”

“Are you ever not an ass?” You questioned, before grabbing the back of his neck to crash his lips against yours.

Just as your fingers began to unbutton his shirt, there was a knock at the door. You both pulled away from each other, panting a little with slightly swollen lips. Not recognizing the knock as Q’s special one, neither of you moved.

“Harrison? It’s me.” Pussy Galore said from the other side of the door, knocking again. Your jaw dropped, and you glared at your partner.

“What the hell is she doing here?” You whispered angrily, quietly walking away from him and the hotel room door.

“I don’t know. She didn’t seem serious when she said-” He cut himself off, unsure of his train of thought not. Instead, he opted for fixing his shirt and his hair, getting all traces of your hands off him.

“When she said what?” You asked in a low voice.

“She said she’d bring towels or I could go back with her. Just, go wait on the balcony.” Harrison quietly urged you, and you furrowed your eyebrows at him.

“You’re not seriously making me wait outside while Galore tries to hook up with you, are you?” You questioned, making him look at you in confusion.

“What? No, you wait on the balcony, and I’ll get rid of her, so we can, you know,” He gestured to the beds, “Continue.”

Your jaw slacked at his words, scoffing, “You’re unbelievable.”

“Is that not what that kiss was?” He asked, hurt flashing over his features. Galore knocked on the door again, pulling you both back to the reality of the situation.

“And here I was thinking you were more than just a womanizer.” You rolled your eyes at him, grabbing the prized gold flash drive from the side table and making your way to the balcony.

“Maneater.” He spat back like a little kid.

“You’re so vain.” You said in disbelief, quietly closing the balcony doors and he shut the curtain, blocking the view of you from the room. You leaned against the railing, looking at the five story drop- too high for you to want to jump to escape whatever twisted hookup was going on in your hotel room. Was it wrong of you to think of Galore as a whore when her job was the exact reflection of yours? Probably. Were you jealous that Harrison let her have a power over him? Nope. Were you missing the feeling of your partner’s soft lips against yours? Definitely not. You were just glad the balcony doors were thick enough that you couldn’t hear anything from inside, and that the balcony itself was angled in such a way, no one could see you from the ground.

“I thought you’d keep me waiting all night.” Pussy Galore said, a smirk playing on her lips, when Harrison finally opened the door. She had a single towel in her hand, keeping up the premise of her visit at least, and a bottle of champagne in the other. Harrison recognized it as the same brand from Monaco, confirming his suspicions tha yes, Galore knew exactly who he was. “Hope you don’t mind. I got this from room service for us.”

“I’m not much of a champagne drinker.” He replied, opening the door wide enough to let her in. He watched her carefully as her eyes flicked around the room. It was then he spotted the lipstick bag still out.

“I’m sorry, do you have company right now?” Galore asked as she took a seat at the edge of the bed anyway.

“Oh, no, just traveling with my sister.” He hoped she couldn’t see through his lie, but he couldn’t tell behind her sweet, yet cold eyes. He grabbed the bag of lipsticks, slipping a silver one up his sleeve, before putting away the bag as a whole, “But she’s not here tonight. It’s just us.”

At his inviting words, Galore set aside the champagne bottle and towel, and Harrison took that as a sign to get busy. As she laid on the bed comfortably, he climbed onto her, his lips finding hers. This would normally be the most thrilling part of his job with his hands wandering on a gorgeous woman as he devoured her taste, but somehow this felt wrong. His lips almost forgot what to do against Galore’s lips simply because they weren’t yours. While he was caught up in his head, Galore’s fingers found their way under his suit jacket. She grabbed his gun with ease, kicking him off her and rolling so she was on top of him, straddling his waist and pointing the gun at his head.

“Well, that was easy.” She breathed out. She leaned down, her chest pressed to his, keeping the gun threateningly close to his head. “Where’s the flash drive, 007?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He answered, not hesitating for a moment, and she pushed the gun barrel against his chin as she sat up again.

“So you want to do this the hard way then?” She questioned. She reached for the champagne bottle, no doubt filled with the same interrogation drug that you’d consumed. Harrison took the opportunity to grab the towel, twisting it around her neck. He had the upper hand as the gun dropped from her grasp. The towel, while it was slowly choking her, it wasn’t enough to kill her right then.

“Where’s Goldfinger?” He demanded, tightening his hold on the towel. She gasped for air, her cheeks beginning to turn red from the force. The small lipstick slipped from his suit, right into her hand. Harrison tried to grab it from her, but it was too late, she’d stabbed him with the thin needle, piercing straight into the vein in his arm. The tranquilizer worked quickly, and the towel dropped from his hands. Galore slowly got up, grabbing the gun that had been just barely out of reach. While she was distracted, with his last bit of energy, Harrison took off his watch, clicking it to the grenade setting and tossing it across the room towards the balcony, hoping it’d go off and you’d hear his sad call for help. He fell, landing on the bed, motionless. Galore said something, but it was all incoherent to him, and, as his vision blurred, all he could think about was you, standing out on the balcony, waiting for him to come back- he wasn’t going to come back, and his damn watch didn’t work.

Meanwhile, you tried to pass your time by keeping an eye out for Q, with your splendid view of the hotel parking lot. Surely, he should be here by now; and this flash drive in your hand wasn’t getting any less important. Your breath caught in your throat as you spotted that assassin, Oddjob, from earlier. He adjusted the hat on his head as he got out of a large van with blacked out windows. He walked over to a hotel exit where two men came out, carrying a knocked out Harrison. You felt your stomach churn as you watched them smuggle your unconscious partner into the van. As Oddjob got back into the driver’s seat, you looked down off the balcony. You knew you hadn’t gotten any closer to the ground, but you could hope that somehow the five story jump looked smaller.

You fumbled with the gold flash drive in your fingers. If you didn’t get this to Q, then MI6 would never know what Silva and Sciarra were hiding; all of this would be for nothing. Quickly, you took out your small pocket knife and took a deep breath before piercing it into your wrist, cutting out the small tracking device Q had installed in all of the agents. You knew he was tracking you with the device, but, now, you needed it to stay with the flash drive for him to find. Galore would be looking for you, and you’d either end up dead or captured with Harrison, so it wasn’t like you’d need to be tracked either way. It wasn’t your best plan, but Q would find the drive, which was much more important than you. You dropped the flash drive and the device into the plush garden bed on the ground below you, landing perfectly hidden in the flowers beside each other.

Looking up, you saw the van disappearing off into the night. You heard the balcony door slowly open, a man with a gun peeking out the door. Before he could shoot, you grabbed his hand with the gun, twisting his wrist to point at his heart. Your hand went over his finger and fired, killing him instantly. You grabbed the gun from his limp fingers, shooting another man inside the hotel room. Slowly, you stepped inside the room, not seeing anyone else inside. Galore stepped through the door, shooting at you and you ducked, rolling for cover behind a bed. It didn’t take long for you to run out of bullets, but  you spotted Harrison’s watch lying thrown on the floor beside you. It was set to grenade, but it wouldn’t go off for a few more minutes. Still, it’d buy you time and a distraction. You threw it in Galore’s direction, and she laughed at the failed attempt.

“You missed.” She pointed out, and you rolled your eyes at the defective grenade. Before you could come up with another plan, Galore stood on the bed and grabbed you by the hair, yanking you to your feet. Using the height advantage, she kneed you right in the face. You grabbed hold of her wrist, jumping up to knock her over and to send the gun flying out of her other hand.

“What the hell did you do to my partner?” You questioned through gritted teeth, your hands finding their way to her throat as you shoved her against the mirror on the wall. You noticed the faint bruising on her neck already; smirking to yourself, you knew Harrison had to have been behind it. You pushed down the pit in your stomach over your concern of his fate, focusing your energy on the bitch in front of you.

“I’d ask how you managed to break the womanizer but, god, he was so easy to catch, it almost wasn’t fun.” She replied menacingly.

“Don’t call him that.” You snapped, shoving her against the mirror harder, her head breaking the glass. She let out a cry in pain as her perfectly blonde hair got tainted with blood; the small red sight was enough for you to repeat your actions, punching her in the gut as you did so. In your anger, you missed her fingers wrapping around the champagne bottle. She smashed it against your head and attempted to stab the broken glass into your neck, but you blocked her jab with your elbow, the motion causing the glass to slash across her eyebrow. You lost your footing as she kicked your knee and continued to attempt to stab you with the bottle. You bit back a scream as she stabbed the bottle into your healing bullet wound on your arm. Though your arm seared with pain, you were hit with the realization that this bitch in front of you was the one who shot you, and that reignited the same fire in you; first the sniper shot, then 009, and now Harrison- she was asking for it. You grabbed the bottle out of your arm, ready to use it as a knife against her.

Suddenly, the watch grenade went off, flying you and Galore to separate sides of the room. Landing near the door, you took the opportunity to flee. You held onto your arm, applying as much pressure as you could, as you staggeredly ran down the hall towards the staircase.

A couple of Galore’s men- or Goldfinger’s you weren’t sure who was calling the shots now, started coming up the staircase by the time you got to the second floor. You elbowed one in the face, grabbing the gun from his hands to shoot the other down before the gun dropped from both of your hands, falling down the staircase. Hearing the door open from the fifth floor, you looked up instinctively. The man across from you began to throw punches, and you jumped up, grabbing the bottom rail from the next set of stairs up and kicking him out the window.

The footsteps above you quickened, and you grabbed the gun from the dead man beside you before jumping out the window. You groaned, landing just wrong enough that your bad arm hit the gun. The man, who you had so gracefully kicked out the window, began to move and you quickly shot him the head. Cursing for not having the car keys on you, you got up and began running for the nearby parking lot. Just as you spotted a group of motorcyclists parking their bikes, you saw Galore and a couple more men barge out of the hotel room door.

“Hey!” Someone called after you as you got onto an empty motorcycle, starting it up and racing away. While you could hear the motorcyclists yelling indistinctly in the distance, you could also clearly hear three motorcycles and a sports car chasing after you. Turning down a busy street, you swerved to try to dodge their bullets and to get them off your damn tail. Galore had already taken Harrison, and now she was after you like an actual barn cat hunting a mouse, but in this case, you weren’t going to end up in her clutches.

One of the motorcycles caught up to you, driving right beside you. He got out his gun, holding the bike steady with one hand. Looking ahead, you saw an oncoming car, the bike beside you was going too fast to react. You elbowed him and grabbed his gun before swerving away. The other motorcycle crashed straight into the car. One down, two to go.

“Move! Move!” You shouted at the confused, screaming pedestrians you tried to dodge as you hopped onto a sidewalk. Galore and the other men stopped shooting, and you could indistinctly hear her barking out orders. You made a sharp turn left, nearly hitting a car that you dared to think was an Aston, onto a wide bridge. You glanced behind you and that car was definitely an Aston and that was definitely Q driving it as the car rammed straight into the second motorcyclist and then focused on pushing back the Audi that had been trailing you. Galore was the only one on the bridge with you. Your motorcycle hit a bump, but you didn’t react fast enough and got thrown from the bike, rolling along the hard asphalt.

“You just don’t know when to stop, do you?” Galore spat angrily, yanking you up from your hair again- damn her and knowing how much that actually hurts. She pointed her gun at you, “Where’s the flash drive? I know Harrison doesn’t have it, so he must’ve given it to you.”

“Go to hell.” You bitterly replied. She hit you in the lip with the butt of her gun, busting your lip in the process. You spit up some blood, before kneeing her and making a run for the edge of the bridge. You looked down into the abyss of the river; it was too dark for you to even try to guess how far the jump was and you had no clue how deep the water was. Galore began to shoot at you, leaving you no choice but to jump. The minute you hit the crisp, cold water, you did your best to minimize your air bubbles and swam under the surface towards the bridge.

You weren’t sure how long you held your breath to keep yourself under the water and away from Galore’s bullets, but you knew you were thankful for your intense swim training years prior. Maybe you weren’t overexaggerating when you said you had the best lungs on MI6. You came up for air on the bank besides a tree and slowly pulled yourself out. Between the stab wound on your already vulnerable bullet wound and your own self-inflicted cut on your wrist, you were beaten up, and that wasn’t even accounting for the cuts and bruises on your knuckles, face, and legs. You had to go back for the flash drive. While it was most likely Q in that Aston, you weren’t sure if he’d made it out or if he’d actually follow your tracker now that he knows you’re nowhere near it.

You had barely made it a block into your cold journey back to the hotel when a car pulled up beside you. You were ready to fight whoever was inside, but your defenses dropped as soon as you heard the familiar voice from the rolled down window.

“Need a ride?”

~~~

Let me know if the tags aren’t working or if you want to be tagged :)

General Tag List: @viagracex​​​ @theamazingtomholland​ @Hellomoveonby @heyitsshrez @harrisonosterfieldhazmyheart​ @joyleenl​ @t-o-m-holland​ @lonikje​ @sleepybesson​ @sunkisseddreamer​

Harrison Tag List: @Calhtlland @tomkindholland​ @where-art-thau-romeo​

Series Tag List: @quinjetboi @baby-haz @kickingn-ames @rougese7en @hollandsosterfield @nj01​ @it-is-rebel-owl-ma-dudes @spencerreidxoxo @duskholland

[afterspark-podcast]

G1 Episode 43: Transcript

[This can also be found on AO3!]

[Stinger]

O: This is not an exaggeration, everybody dies.

[Intro Music]

O: Hello, and welcome to the Afterspark Podcast, an episode by episode recap of the Generation 1 Transformers cartoon. I'm Owls!

S: And I'm Specs.

O: And today we're going to be talking about episode number 43: The Golden Lagoon. Let's talk about giant robots today, shall we?

S: Yep.

O: And today we open with the Autobots walking along a beach and Perceptor finding a rock.

S: And proceeding to nerd out about said rock and its unique properties.

O: The rock has both elements of gold and silver in it.

S: We've struck it rich!

O: [Laughter] 

S: Blitzwing orders Thrust and Ramjet to attack the group of Autobots looking at Perceptors rock, so, yeah, these guys have been lurking somewhere in the background.

O: I have to ask you- or- do they want the gold and silver? Because my good dudes, you just need to sell some, like, patents and shit and you'd be probably all set money-wise. 

S: Bragging rights, maybe? I mean, these guys seem like the sort of dudes that would just go and pick up a mini bot and, like, shake him upside down to get his lunch money.

O: Okay, but you just imagine they basically go back to base they're like, “We stole Perceptor's rock!” 

S: Well, possibly, “We stole Perceptor.”

O: Well, yes, I know but I'm just imagining him just stealing the rock. So, uh, Powerglide takes to the air to fight Thrust.

S: Meanwhile, Ramjet can't win in a fight against a hoverboat, as Seaspray both outmaneuvers him and drives him into the drink.

O: Then we get some tank-on-tank action as Blitzwing takes on Warpath.

S: Oh, Preceptor calls for Beachcomber's aid but apparently Beachcomber has bailed on this fight. I mean, the vibes were just getting him down, man.

O: Beachcomber exits some sort of cave that he apparently entered and then basically enters a lush, verdant hidden glade he calls a paradise.

S: I want to know why no one can see this from the air because this is very visible from the air- you can see the sky.

O: Yeah, like there- and I think what makes this even funnier is, like, at the start of this fight there were literally no less than four fucking planes in the air. 

S: Yep, so our robotic Dr. Dolittle, Beachcomber, speaks birb, fox, deer, bunny, and, somehow, armadillo. 

O: He's even able to pet the deer. I- do you know how skittish those fuckers are?

S: Super skittish. Beachcomber ignores his communicator and investigates a nearby small lake. A small, suspiciously colored lake. 

O: There's no good way to be delicate about this, guys. It's urine colored. 

S: Beachcomber, throwing caution and common sense to the wind, dips his entire hand into it. 

O: It turns gold and he exclaims that, “It's electrum!”

S: We'll get back to this later.

O: [Laughter] Moving right along.

S: Back in the fray, Ramjet gets his revenge coming out of the water underneath Seaspray.

O: The two tanks have to unbury themselves from the sand they have, apparently, inadvertently got buried in.

S: Yep, it looks like everyone's having a pretty bad beach day all around.

O: And then the ground around Beachcomber, in his said hidden glade, begins shaking and he transforms and heads back into the tunnel that he had entered the glade from.

S: Surprised that, uh, things didn't end badly for any of the critters, but I think he would have been very distraught.

O: Probably.

S: As if prophesized, Thrust spots the lake from the air and lands to examine it.

O: He decides he wants to be the shiniest and dives into the lake, turning him completely gold.

S: The Midas touch of robots and also how deep is this stupid thing?

O: Oh, yes, we get- we comment on that later. [Laughter] Beachcomber makes it back and Perceptor is understandably a little frustrated that he had bailed in the middle of a freaking fight.

S: Seaspray is able to shoot Ramjet down but Thrust arrives, seemingly invulnerable, with his fancy new gold coating.

O: None of which stops Perceptor from trying to shoot him with his handy-dandy hand missile.

S: The Autobots attempt different attacks against Thrust but eventually flee, leaving Perceptor and Seaspray behind. 

O: Thrust miraculously grows what we can only describe as claws and then scoops Perceptor up while in jet mode and flies off with him.

S: It's honestly pretty silly looking, if I remember right.

O: Yeah, it looked pretty silly. 

S: Yeah, Perceptor and Seaspray are brought to the Con base. Megatron gloats and Thrust is like, “Hey, guys, I found a ton of electrum.”

O: And then Starscream says he needs proof of Thrust’s claim but Megatron responds with, “I don't care what you need.” You know, it's been a while since I was- I feel like it's been a while since when you've seen these two idiots bicker like this.

S: Yeah, because they didn't really do it during the, um, shoot, the Constructicon brainwashing thing.

O: Yeah, like, you know, normally, I felt like that was a situation where they'd start bickering but instead Megatron was like, “No, no, no, sweetie, we've got an escape route.”

S: [Laughter] Yep, so, yeah, Megatron and Starscream bicker further as they arrive at the electrum fountain.

O: Megatron volunteers Starscream as the first test subject for the electrum.

S: Starscream seems, you know, quite hesitant, dipping one foot into the water until Megatron tells him to, “Go!” And then Starscream proceeds to jump in like a six-year-old: holding his nose and doing a weirdly adorable cannonball. 

O: It is very, very stupidly cute.

S: Mm-hmm.

O: And then Starscream exits and I'm pretty sure Megatron just wanted an excuse to shoot him in the face here.

S: Yeah, yeah I totally agree and, like Thrust, Starscream is invulnerable, even to fusion cannon blasts once he's got his shiny gold coat.

O: The other two Seekers and Megatron jump into the hole, too.

S: And once they're all back out they all proceed to shoot each other to test out their invulnerability.

O: In a shot that truly looks like a rave party.

S: It does- like, there's lots of lasers and glowy lights and everyone's just kind of flailing around like twits. 

O: And it really cracks me up because, I swear to god, the first thing that happens when Megatron gets out of the pool is Starscream shoots him in the face and laughs. 

S: The poor animals are cowering as all of these shots bounce off the Cons and bounce out into the glade itself doing, you know, lots of damage.

O: As you would expect from giant robot fucking lasers. Elsewhere, a group of Autobots prepare a rescue mission.

S: The group is comprised of Warpath, Powerglide, Smokescreen, Beachcomber, and Mirage. 

S: Beachcomber has not told anyone about the electrum spring and is hiding his gold hand. Then, of course, we cut back to the Cons who, we see, have all taken a dip in the electrum.

S: When giant robots go swimming does this count as skinny dipping? Are they now considered to be wearing something if it's a coating?

O: I just have one thing to say to you: GOLDMEMBER!!!

S: Oh god. So all of these, you know, spruced up Cons attack the rescue party.

O: Obviously the Decepticons continue to not take any fucking damage right now.

S: Yep, Mirage turns invisible and heads back for some reinforcements and then, uh, Smokescreen generates smoke and Megatron shows off his problem-solving skills.

O: With enough bullets you can solve anything! Or at least hit Smokescreen in his cloud of smoke.

S: Yep, and the entire group of Autobots is captured, save for Mirage who did make it back to base and rallied reinforcements.

O: The Autobot reinforcements don't seem to be too worried about the invulnerable Cons at all with Sunstreaker's response boiling down to, “Hit them harder!”

S: Yep, he's not thinking with his head there, is he? He's taken out almost immediately and ends up upside down in car mode.

O: So I'd say he didn't hit them very hard, wouldn't you?

S: Well, did more damage to him.

O: So, as their shots continue to bounce off the cons, Beachcomber says that, “They found the Golden Lagoon!”

S: That's not a lagoon. A lagoon really needs to be connected to an oc- to the ocean or some other body of water. I mean, that was a glorified puddle.

O: At best. 

S: Yeah.

O: At the Decepticon base, Starscream is mugging for the camera, singing the praises of electrum.

S: Seaspray and Perceptor, as entertainment, are made to fight each other.

O: Soundwave’s like, “Yo, this is not sanctioned by HR,” to Starscream. 

S: You did not do the paperwork or get the approval for this, Starscream, at all.

O: Nope. And Starscream just sort of waves him off and doesn't seem to care what Megatron's gonna think.

S: Soundwave leaves the room presumably to report Starscream’s aft for HR violations.

O: The few remaining Autobots then ask Omega Supreme for help while Beachcomber heads back to the lagoon.

S: Perceptor and Seaspray shoot out a wall and attempt to escape but are stopped at the elevator when Megatron exits with Blitzwing and Beachcomber.

O: Because if we didn't specify before, Beachcomber got captured when he returned to the lagoon.

S: Yeah.

O: Megatron gets pissy at Starscream for his insubordination and says that he gets the honor of getting chucked into battle against Omega Supreme first. 

S: Even Omega Supreme's blasts are unable to damage the Cons, unfortunately.

O: So, really wasn't much of a punishment. Megatron wants to finish Omega off personally and considering he and Starscream are bickering this episode it's Soundwave that gets the honor this time- go around.

S: Yep, one shot from Megatron's alt mode knocks Omega on his back. 

O: When we return from the commercial break Starscream is standing on top of Omega Supreme, like a big game hunter after a kill. 

S: Yeah, Starscream does not have much in the way of taste.

O: Taste, tact, subtlety... 

S: Yeah, back at the Autobot base, Teletraan I warns the Autobots about electrum and Optimus orders survey teams to be sent out to find it.

O: Powerglide drags his ass out of the water back onto the beach from the beginning of the episode and spots the Cons flying to the Golden Lagoon.

S: He reports back to Prime and then we cut to the Decepticon base.

O: Megatron tells Starscream he can do whatever he wants with the Autobot prisoners. 

S: Skywarp enters Beachcomber’s cell but Beachcomber gets the drop on him and incapacitates both him and Thundercracker... Beachcomber: stealth geologist. Because he was- he was, like, clinging to the ceiling?

O: Like, my boy, you got skills!

S: He does, he does.

O: He then releases Perceptor and Seaspray and they attempt another escape.

S: And at this point they have stolen, uh, some null rays or... the guns the Seekers wear on their arms.

O: Yeah. 

S: This time they succeed because Seaspray is very well suited to be in the water.

O: And the three arrive back at the golden puddle just in time for Longhaul to dump a bunch of empty barrels on Dirge and tell him to fill them up.

S: Everyone's pushing work on everyone else. Dirge is not happy about being left to guard the electrum by himself but he doesn't get very much time to explain or complain about anything as Seaspray pulls him into the bushes.

O: All the scientists are feral this episode and I, for one, love it. 

S: Yup. Perceptor and Seaspray steal both of his guns. 

O: Thankfully, Optimus and co arrive just afterwards. 

S: Then it's time for the ~Autobot pool party!~

O: As they, too, jump in and get all glammed up.

S: The Decepticons realize they've been duped when the Ark is empty and filled with dummies and not even the interesting moving, clothed dummies that, like, were at the beginning of the series.

O: And, no, not the Dinobots, either. 

S: Yep, I think they'd get along with, um, Beachcomber. though.

O: I would hope so, I don't know if we ever really see them interact though?

S: I don't, either, I just- I think they would get along- I think that would be a fun team up to watch.

O: Yeah. 

S: Ah, so the Decepticons turn around and head back for the Golden Lagoon only to arrive to find some glammed out Autobots, including a whole-ass Omega Supreme.

O: I don't even know how they managed that.

S: I guess the water must be really deep because he comes straight out of it.

O: I guess?

S: Or crouched in it?

O: It does not make any sense. Uh, predictably, a fight ensues. Of course, no one's shots are doing anything and further bouncing off of them.

S: And lighting the surviving enviro- the surrounding environment on fire, that wasn't already trashed.

O: The electrum on the Decepticons begins to wear off and the battle changes in favor of the Autobots.

S: Yep. Megatron, much like a toddler, decides that if the Cons can't have the lagoon then they're going to blow it the shit up on their way out. Ah, this reveals that the lagoon was pretty wide but honestly not that deep. Like it certainly wasn't deep enough for Omega Supreme to go sit in it or, frankly, I don't even think that, like, Starscream should have been able to like dive in there?

O: Yeah, I don't know what was going on with this, but the Cons retreat and we end with Beachcomber looking very sad in the destroyed glade.

S: And the music that's happening here really does not match the somber mood.

O: Yeah, because it sounds, like, hopeful and kind of happy. You know, normal end-of-the-episode music.

S: Yeah.

O: That's it for this episode so join us next time for Quest for Survival!  Where Autobots are in desperate need of a gardener and poor Cosmos is stuck in a very unfortunate situation.

S: Yep, some things need some trimming and poor Cosmos is a bit- a bit caught in the middle, yeah. So, today we have two fanfic recommendations. The first is “Favorable Contributions” by Tiamatschild, which is set in the G1 cartoon continuity. It's rated K, it's Gen (more or less) but pairing-wise: it's a Beachcomber and Perceptor, and our characters are Beachcomber and Perceptor. In summary, “Knowing Beachcomber is fraught with peril. Embarrassing peril.”

O: [Laughter]

S: So, yeah, uh, the theme here is it's Beachcomber in nature! Sometimes embarrassing. And it's a one shot. This was something that I read a while ago and it's- it's cute and it's fun and there may or may not be an alligator involved. Or possibly a crocodile? Giant robots getting treed by a big reptile, anyway.

O: Well, we know- do know giant reptiles are their biggest weakness if the dinosaur episode where the Decepticons were getting mowed down is any indication.

S: Yeah, very much so. And the second recommendation is “One Step At A Time” by one_starry_night. Continuity: it's a G1 cartoon continuity, it's rated K, Gen, there are no pairings and the characters are Beachcomber, Perceptor, Powerglide, Warpath, and Seaspray, though Seaspray doesn't really say anything, he's just hanging out. And this is specifically following the events of the Golden Lagoon. In summary, “Perceptor figures out a way to cheer Beachcomber up.” 

And I picked this one because it's an episode follow-up which- Beachcomber getting some closure would be nice.

O: Right!? Right!? Instead of him just being sad.

S: Yep. And this one is a one-shot, so let's go over to Owls.

O: All right! Our fanartist for today is Sarah Stone or Fayren, they do Prime the- the stuff I'm recommending, anyway, is mostly Prime fanart but they are actually an official artist from the IDW Windblade run which is very, very pretty if you have not seen it and I do recommend reading it. Um, Starscream is a bastard but hopefully you're used to that at this point.

S: Yeah.

O: Um, as I said we've only linked some Prime fan arts. Uh, we have a collection of Decepticons in glasses.

S: Nice.

O: And then we have a humanformer Soundwave which might be my favorite humanformer Soundwave design. It's his design from Prime and he kind of looks like a weird sci-fi mage-y thing. It looks neat. Uh, complete with a- with an actual bird Laserbeak. And then, uh, we have Ratchet and, uh, Knock Out in a fight. 

S: Knock down, drag out doctor fight.

O: Apparently.

S: Yeah, they just they both look like they're going to trash each other.

O: Oh yeah, she is a fayrenpickpocket on Deviantart and IInstagram. She is just fayren on Twitter and then on Tumblr- her Tumblr is monsterboysandrobots although, be warned, she has not updated there in over two years, so. I think she's still fairly active on Instagram and Twitter, if you do want to follow her, I would check there first. Any other links will be available on our Tumblr.

S: Yep, and just- I would like to note that her colors are gorgeous.

O: They are. I-I was trying to figure out because I couldn't remember if she did the colors for the Windblade run or if somebody else was the colorist. We can't remember but the colors are super gorgeous in the Windblade run. It's part of why it's so pretty.

S: Yes.

O: Um, so if she didn't do it, whoever the colorist was for that one did a fantastic job.

S: Yeah.

O: Also, you know, just side mention, the cutest Waspinator in existence is in that run, I just want you all to know this.

S: She does have a very cute Waspinator.

O: He's a fuzzy boy!

S: And that just about wraps it up for us today.  Remember to check us out on Tumblr or Pillowfort as Afterspark-Podcast for any additional information, show notes, or links we may have mentioned.  You can also find us on Facebook and Twitter at AftersparkPod (all one word) and various other locations by searching for Afterspark Podcast such as AO3, iTunes, Spotify, and Youtube, just to name a few.  And feel free to send us questions on Tumblr, Youtube, or AO3!  Till next time, I'm Specs.

O: I’m Owls.

S: Toodles.

[Outro Music]

[author-morgan]

Title: Dread and Destruction

Pairing: Deimos!Alexios x Fem!Reader

Rating: T

Summary: You left the Cult of Kosmos, it’s time he does too.

THE FEVER BREAKS but you still wake in a cold sweat surrounded by darkness. A dull throbbing in your leg returns. The poisoned arrow leaves its mark on you and the minds of the Cultist. You’re no longer immortal to them –your usefulness has run its course.

Out of the darkness, a flickering light appears and grows brighter –larger and reflects off golden armor. Deimos. You’re both relieved and terrified to see him. "They're going to kill you," he says and you draw in a deep breath, looking around the prison for a weapon. You couldn't fight him though, not in this state. Deimos throws down a pack and dark cloak next to you and kneels. You lean back, eyes meeting his –waiting for him to draw his blade to do the Cult’s bidding. "You have to leave," he tells you.

Your brows knit together. Deimos shoves the hem of your stained chiton up and takes a strip of linen, laying it over the wound on your upper thigh and wrapping it tightly. You can’t help the chill that creeps down your spine at the feel of his rough fingers against your heated skin.

You want to ask why he is going to such lengths to help –deep down you already know, but you want to hear it in his own words. Deimos pulls you off the ground and leads you deeper into the cave, past the Cult of Kosmos’s meeting chamber. The path grows narrower and then turns upward. Star and moonlight filters through a dense canopy covering the hidden entrance. A horse is waiting –your sword and bow already secured to the saddle. You turn back to Deimos. "What about you?" The cult would not let him act without punishment –demigod or not.

Deimos shakes his head. "No questions-" he motions to the horse "-go."

You and he are kindred souls, bound by misfortune. Trembling, you surge forward, pressing your lips against his. He seizes your waist, drawing you closer. You’ve always been his source of rapture away from the dread and destruction. Your hand caresses the side of his face, following the scar below his eye –you’d put it there yourself years ago. Stepping back, you mount the pale mare and look back over your shoulder. “I’ll find you,” you promise. Fate had always led you back to one another.

FREE FROM THE Cult’s control, you seek retribution for the years of pain endured under their heel. Freedom makes you see you’d only ever been a puppet in their schemes and Deimos is still their pawn. They’d given you training and praised, called you the daughter of gods, but never once thought what should happen if you went rogue.

Perched in the rafters of a temple –you wait. You’d always been the more patient one. Worshippers rise and flee when he enters. The Cultist kneels, placing a coin at the feet of Plutus in offering. You move in the shadows, then pounce.

Midas slumps against the altar, hand clawing at the open gash on his neck –prayers unheard. Before the gurgling stops, you kick his body over and drive a bronze dagger through his heart. The last thing Midas sees is you smiling with blood on your face. Rising from the slain Cultist, you wipe the blood from the dagger in a stained cloth –not realizing you aren’t alone. The point of a blade digs into your back. "Tell me why I shouldn't kill you right now." The voice is familiar. The Eagle Bearer.

“Because I just did your work for you,” you remark, glancing down at Midas’s lidless eyes.

“Try again,” Kassandra sneers.

You sigh, dropping the dagger you’d had pressed into her side. “I left the Cult,” you tell her. The Eagle Bearer steps back and you present her with the golden artifact that belonged to Midas. She does not sheath the broken spear though. "And I can help you bring them to their knees.” You’d been hunting Cultist and their accomplices like animals. Midas was the thirteenth to fall on your blade.  

“I saw you with my brother,” she hisses, disbelieving.

Though before you can say anything else a civilian enters the temple and screams after seeing you and Kassandra standing over the corpse of Argos’s banker. Soon after soldiers and guards are shouting in the distance. "Your brother is the only reason I'm alive," you admit –the thought of Deimos softening your expression. "I suggest we leave quickly."

Kassandra lowers her spear, reluctant and you flee. "Malákas!" The Eagle Bear curses, giving pursuit before she is found standing over the body of Midas –she doesn’t need another mercenary looking to collect the bounty on her head.

WAVES ROCK THE Adrestia to and fro. A lit brazier separates you and Kassandra. Since deciding to work together, five more cultists have fallen, but now it is time for answers that did not come from the dying. The Eagle Bearer demands answers and you offer them freely. "Chrysis always took children in pairs," you explain. "My mother abandoned me the same night yours was told Alexios was dead." Fate had brought them together, just as Chrysis said the Pythia ordained.

"We grew up together. Trained together. Fought together-" the briefest of smiles flash across your lips "-we were unstoppable." People feared the very mention of your names, of the things you could do. Together you and Deimos could bring cities to their knees in a night, could shape the tides of war. Still, despite the titles and praise, you were only mortal. "But we were sloppy sometimes and that came with punishment."

Kassandra clasps her hands together, feels something twist in her stomach. Chrysis will die for the things she'd done. You glance down at the scars on your arms then look to the heavens. "We were taught to expect pain." The world is pain. At first, it was lashes, then brands –if a Child of Kosmos ran out of room for a mark they were discarded.

Though for Deimos and you, the Cult had to become creative in their punishments. A brand did nothing to someone who did not cry out in agony or beg for release. "What they found is they could hurt us more by hurting each other." The first time Deimos let a target escape their grasp, Okytos the Great had carved lines into your back and rubbed salt in the wound. Deimos swore he'd kill Okytos for that.

"What is he like?" Kassandra asks. Her little brother is a stranger to her.

You shrug. "Irascible and stubborn mostly." That tended to be the temperament of most men though, but Deimos is different. He brought the wrath of gods and was like a rock rising from the sea. "Even the Cultist fear him." He was a puppet for the Ghost of Kosmos, but sometimes he tested the length of his leash. There was a time when both you and he commanded the Sages and Adepts.

"He's always been different with me, though," you admit. There had always been a certain degree tenderness in his touches and gaze. Even his words were not harsh. "Softer." Is the word you use to describe the Deimos no one but you know.

The Eagle Bearer's face falls. "You love him." She's seen that type of expression before many times in her travels. It is the look in a woman's eyes as she sends her husband to war.

You look away. "I love the man he could be. I will help you hunt down every cultist crawling over the Greek world-" you rise to your feet. "-but know we're fighting for different people, Kassandra." You return below deck, hoping the memories would let you know peace for one night. 

AT THE BACK of the cave is a man garbed in silver and gold armor. You recognize him at once, a few seconds later the Eagle Bearer does as well. Kassandra strides forward, but you grip onto her arm, pulling her back to the cave’s entrance. “Let me go alone,” you whisper. Deimos can kill you if that is what the Cult wishes, but Kassandra needs to live.

"Have you lost your fucking mind?" She hisses. "I can't leave you with him!" Your harsh glare makes her reconsider and alas she turns back, returning to the Adrestia.

You descend into the dim cave. Footfalls silent. “Deimos,” you breathe, pushing back the hood of your cloak. Almost two years have passed since you’d fled execution. Now fate brings you together again.

In two large strides, his hand wraps around your throat, pushing you back against the rock. "You left me," he shouts –voice echoing deep in the darkness.

You wrap a hand around his wrist –terrified of the moment when he decided to squeeze. Despite his strength, his face looks thin –tormented. Dark circles ring his eyes. The Cult chips away another piece of him –of his resolve. "You helped me leave," you tell him, breathing shallow.

His face twists, but he drops you and steps back –chest heaving in sync with yours. He’s dreamt of killing you for betraying him, leaving him, but all it takes is one look and he can’t do it. "They said you abandoned me," he grits out.

Rising, you take a step toward him. “I didn’t.” Your fingers brush over the scar on the back of his right hand. You can leave too." He still won’t look at you, but he doesn’t move when you slip your hand into his. "Come with me," you whisper. "The Cult has used us. Broken us." You had only been able to see the truth after leaving and though you were still on a path of vengeance, it was better than being a puppet. "We can be whole."

Deimos shakes his head, chuckling and turns back to face you. There was no going back, no leaving this life. "Not after the things we've done,” he says.

You let his hand go. "But do we not deserve the chance?" You ask, reaching out to touch the scar below his eye.

He knocks your hand away, knowing your touch would ruin him and bring more pain. "I will not listen to your lies," he snarls.

"Alexios." He lashes out, shoving you. Something in you back cracks as you hit the cave wall. "Don't use that name!" Deimos roars, shoulders shaking.

You sit up, closing your eyes and ignoring the pain. “It’s who you are,” you breathe, hands shaking. Your whole body feels as though it is shaking. You open your eyes. Deimos is crouched down before you, dark eyes full of pain and anger, but there is still a glint of the gentleness you’d known before. Your breath catches and takes that as a queue, kissing you.

You hesitate, mind racing. He may have been about to kill you. One last kiss before death. The cold bite of iron never comes. You lean into him and his anger subsides. His hands run down your arms, finding new scars. “Where have you been?” He asks.

"Searching," you shrug, then the briefest of smiles appears on your lips and makes Deimos want to kiss you again. "To discover who I truly am." You reach out toward the scar on his cheek again, this time he does not resist. 

He leans into the touch, unable to admit to himself that he'd missed this. "I cannot leave,” he utters. You already knew that, though. "If they find out you're alive, they'll kill you.” You rest your forehead against his.

You nod, knowing well how the Cult of Kosmos operates. "I would expect nothing less.” Then something akin to fear appears in your eyes. "But what if they gave you the order?" You ask.

Deimos turns his head, swallows hard. "I-" he hesitates – the answer should have been easy, but it wasn't. "I couldn't," he whispers. The words should have brought you relief, but they did not.

You lift your hand to his cheek, bringing his troubled gaze back to you. “We are bound by fate,” you murmur, leaning forward. He grabs the back of your neck, closing the distance between you. You brace one hand on his breastplate, the other tangles in his hair. His kiss is bruising –a punishment in itself. Pulling away, you run your thumb over his lips. When you kiss him, it makes his heart ache and his body go weak. "The gods will always bring us back together," you tell him as you part, hands caressing both sides of his face.

You both rise. He has been away too long, the Cult will begin searching for him. Deimos grips onto your hands before you can leave the cave. "Stay out of my way, please." He doesn’t want to be faced with a decision he'd grow to regret.

You smile and Deimos knows a piece of your former self persists. "Only if you stay out of mine."