#which have actually fucked up my computer beyond any immediate help

[crushedsweets]

Do you have and hcs of how Toby and Ben would act together? - Hoodie

YES SORT OF . u know the drill this is my au and bens story is one that i changed a lot so here we go :9

ok toby younger brother family trauma issues lonely grew up isolated etc. ben only child got killed by neighbor for absurd vr theory now inhabits a virus-ghost-form that he partially shares with several other dead kids.

toby and ben wouldnt have gotten along before ben died. only because ben was just. a 13 yr old boy addicted to video games ... those kids r mean, and toby was heavily bullied in his childhood. the ONLY reason bens not a huge dick anymore is bc his 'form' itself is fucked up (he glitches, he has an electronic vocal fry and occasional stutter from glitches, he has a weird glow to him, sickly drowned boy skin, veins look like those green code lines, red/black eyes, HE'S LITERALLY DRESSED LIKE LINK). bens not exactly insecure about any of this, but he knows damn well he cannot make fun of a tic without toby shooting back 10x harder.

which ok yeah kinda sad that ben has to look weird for him to not be mean but .. . like . . yeah. it is what it is.

they met mmm... maybe when toby was around 21? jeff would be 16, and ben wouldve been 14. SOOO toby doesnt really TRY to befriend ben. he's too old for him and has no interest in being besties w some kid. but he has a job to stop ben from tormenting people online and drawing attention to weird ghost sites and whatnot, so he started talking to all sorts of ai- cleverbot being the main, of course.

of all the proxies, tobys the only one ben likes. tobys a dick, but he has his moments where he's funny and gets distracted during a mission, so he's sat and rambled and bickered with the ai on slow nights. ben immediately knew everything about toby, because he has access to every single file on tobys computer, phone, etc.

ben SCARED THE SHIT out of toby upon their first meeting. he crawled out of tobys janky ass computer one day and toby nearly threw up from being so freaked out. yeah, he's killed people and whatever, BUT GHOSTS R FUCKING SCARY (and he has .trauma with ghosts and hallucinations of them (lyra)). ben already knew exactly who toby worked for, what toby was doing, and thought it was beyond funny. ben was the first being who already knew all the slenderman lore because he spends literally. every. second. on the internet. he is basically the internet. and he watches them, listens through their phones, watches, etc. he doesnt know the details perfectly tho cuz technology gets weird around slednerman/the operator. so toby thought that was helpful, in a sense.

so pretty quickly ben was fond of toby. thought he was like, that cool older brother of your friend. the main issue was the proxies at this time were trying to find and kill jeff because he was infected by the operator and slenderman deemed him 'too far gone.'

ben was actually the one who proposed the whole 'okay. so you want me to stop terrorizing kids online. fair. now ive noticed you keep trying to kill my friend(jeff). stop that and we can be cool :3'.

eventually they all came to some weird agreement where. ben will stop haunting people, the proxies will stop trying to kill jeff, jeff has to stop doing his 'full course' murders, and eventually, ben just likes them enough to start helping them with cctv, police files, etc. it was a complicated agreement that eventually ended in friendship, sort of?

they play video games together. eventually toby does see him as a little brother. it's kinda unsettling because the proxies realize just how much power ben has when it comes to just...... leaking everything. toby thinks that 'ok well, if ben leaks stuff about us, we leak stuff about jeff, and now he has no friends and is lonely, so he can't.' but tim and brian are legitimately freaked out at the thought of their lives being ruined anymore than they already are, so theyre pretty courteous to ben

ben will really just hang around. toby can just be eating breakfast and ben will pop up and ask whats up. he's annoying and clingy, and he can tell toby is biting his tongue half the time. . but toby is grateful sometimes. bens laid back and funny, and toby could use some laughs, so its a decent time for them both

again, overall, toby is just kinda too old for ben(although ben wouldve been a year older than toby if he was alive), but ben is really funny, he's nice to toby, he plays video games with him, he comes and checks in on him randomly. so toby appreciates having a freaky ghost little brother thing hanging around. bens one of his fave people (which is only saying so much when the other people he talks to are like . . jeff)

[gabrielultrakill-bigboobs]

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈 *i ask about your hcs of v1 and v2*

ufihifdsf OK THIS IS GONNA BE A RIDE

it’s gonna be hard to convince my brain to properly differentiate between the character V1 and myself but anyways let’s ball. these r bound to change in the future once i can actually write an ultrakill prequel

dynamic-wise they’re like siblings to put it simply but we’ll get more into that later. it/they V1 (in context of the character, not myself), he/it V2

V1 was traumatized by the war they were built for and became mute as a result, and wasn’t given a chance to mentally develop properly beyond that because they were immediately put into a classified facility post-war. as a result they have difficulty expressing most emotions and even FEELING in the first place (unless it’s feeling things like anger, boredom, satisfaction, etc). oh yeah they also have a variety of autism/ADHD traits in addition to the uh. personality disorder

oh yeah V1 has a notebook stored away in their wings that they use to help with communication & expressing themself (frequently through art) :)

V2, being made during the new peace, doesn’t know what V1 knows, and vice versa. V1 only knows the shitty cruel parts of humanity and V2 has been brainwashed into thinking mankind is perfect, to the point where he doesn’t even realize that he’s experienced some traumatic incidents because he views the events (the subject matter of which might be a bit iffy :/ sorry for doing fucked up worldbuilding, it happens when something has ambiguous lore) differently from how V1 did.

V2 accidentally discovered its counterpart and immediately wanted to help out, so he found a few tricks for getting into the facility, and would semi-regularly bring blood to V1 and try to teach them how to entertain themself in V2’s absence because it was difficult for him to manipulate mansplain malewife his way into where V1 was being held.

eventually V2 found a way to sneak V1 short distances out of the facility (within the permission of the two’s creator[s] because V2 can be pretty flattering when he tries) and did his best to try and properly integrate them into society. they formed a sort of friend group with some other machines, many of whom would join V1 in the future uprising against humanity, but that’s something for later!!!

at some point V1 was taken in by a gang and used for illegal robot cockfighting. they eat up any sort of praise like their life depends on it (cough. Style meter) AND they’re pretty bloodthirsty by nature so it was easy for those people to take advantage of them. oh yeah, the cybergrind is also basically a digitally simulated version of this, but it takes from the information of enemies stored in the terminals’ databases rather than having callbacks to machines V1 had fought back then.

V2 interprets V1 finally snapping on their creators as a betrayal because. sigh. again he’s brainwashed into thinking humanity is these righteous saints. more on that in “shattered illusion”, a pre-ultrakill fic i wrote

oh yeah! about the wings & weapons! in official art they’re shown to carry the V-models’ weapons, but because there’s more than 8 weapons i think there’s a sort of hard drive pocket dimension bullshit thing that carries the molecules of whatever V1 or V2 is bringing along with them as well as how to put those molecules back together when the signal is sent to retrieve the item in question. this applies to more than just weapons, however certain objects like the torch in 4-3 and the various skulls across hell have certain components that fuck with the components that allow for this sort of transfer into & out of the personal pocket dimension. this technology also would’ve made it difficult to mass produce the V-models even IF they had made it to that stage of development in the first place.

also both of them have brains constructed out of wires & protected by a sort of jelly layer, which are backed up on a computer chip that also allows them to process the images they capture through miniature cameras that alternate with yellow LEDs in their sort of eye things. if that makes sense. points fingers together. this would also allow for my idea of a Thing where V2 is essentially revived using backup information contained on his computer chip, although to allow further learning the brain would have to be reconstructed using blueprints which are also saved on the same device

sorry i’m insane

oh yeah unrelated but V1 is super curious and there’s something extra intriguing about gabriel except they’re super dense so they take a while to realize that they’re feeling love for the first time in their life, since that sort of emotion is so far out of reach for them (thanks to Mental Illness [trademark symbol])

[panicatthediaz]

I posted 2,485 times in 2022

114 posts created (5%)

2,371 posts reblogged (95%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@swiftiebuckleys

@gretchenzellerbarnes

@clusterbuck

@paranoidbean

@sparkly-angell

I tagged 1,932 of my posts in 2022

Only 22% of my posts had no tags

#0 - 698 posts

#eddie diaz - 466 posts

#evan buckley - 286 posts

#stranger things - 272 posts

#eddie munson - 203 posts

#911 spoilers - 179 posts

#steve harrington - 139 posts

#kiwi queue - 117 posts

#pokemon - 58 posts

#cat - 53 posts

Longest Tag: 137 characters

#it was the fact that buck came back — had been trying to come back with the lawsuit — plus that near-death experience that made eddie say

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

11 and 56 for the mash up? ☺️

11. Neighbour AU + 56. Awful First Meeting

Oh goodness, Lorna. Neither of these is my usual thing, so let's see 😂

.

A few months ago, Buck had moved into this apartment — about the size of what Abby's had been, but properly his — and his neighbors knew he kept weird hours, sometimes (most of the time), what with being a firefighter and all.

They also found him mostly approachable, which was pretty nice. Less nice, however, was no one telling any of that to his new downstairs neighbor, who'd just finished moving in, if he heard some other neighbor right.

(He'd have offered to help, but everything seemed to have happened either when he was on shift, or too early for him to actually be of any use.)

And, listen, he'd just gotten home from a long shift (long, not particularly difficult. Lots of calls and not much to distract him between them), and he's tired, and, sure, he knew the building was slowly being renovated, but he couldn't possibly be blamed for the burst pipe; he was just taking a shower, nothing fancy.

-

Okay, not gonna lie, I have no idea what I'm doing. Eddie's just moved in, he's stressed beyond belief, and Buck's dead on his feet, barely computing half of what Eddie's telling him.

But I do like the mental picture of like, Buck immediately going downstairs to warn Eddie to not go into his bathroom (idk, I imagine he might have heard it?), and Eddie going upstairs because what the fuck, and them just missing each other, but then spotting each other again going back to their respective floors and just a "wait" moment where Eddie's whole stress rant happens and Buck's just... "I'd offer my bathroom, but I don't actually think that will help".

21 notes - Posted January 11, 2022

#4

Chapters: 2/3 Fandom: 9-1-1 (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV) Characters: Evan "Buck" Buckley, Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Firehouse 118 Crew (9-1-1 TV), Maddie Buckley, Christopher Diaz (9-1-1 TV) Additional Tags: U.S. Navy SEAL Evan "Buck" Buckley, Army Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Hurt/Comfort, Developing Relationship, (from friendship to romance over the years), Alternate Universe - No Lawsuit (9-1-1 TV) Summary: Something that the 118 didn't realize was that Buck and Eddie knew each other before they met at the station. This is the story of their evolving relationship since they met, told through their pain and comfort found in each other.

Well. There is one more chapter. Did I expect that? No. Am I surprised? Also no.

This is now my longest fic ever and I have no idea where it will end up, length-wise.

But either way!! Enjoy this new chapter :)

Tagging the giftee @klairwritesthings, of course!

27 notes - Posted March 7, 2022

#3

Chapters: 3/3 Fandom: 9-1-1 (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Evan “Buck” Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV) Characters: Evan “Buck” Buckley, Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Firehouse 118 Crew (9-1-1 TV), Maddie Buckley, Christopher Diaz (9-1-1 TV) Additional Tags: U.S. Navy SEAL Evan “Buck” Buckley, Army Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Hurt/Comfort, Developing Relationship, (from friendship to romance over the years), Alternate Universe - No Lawsuit (9-1-1 TV) Summary: Something that the 118 didn’t realize was that Buck and Eddie knew each other before they met at the station. This is the story of their evolving relationship since they met, told through their pain and comfort found in each other.

It is 12:30 am on Easter Sunday. But the final chapter is up!! This fic has been the fruit of a lot of work, plenty of writer blocks along the way, and also a lot of love. It's been a very fun one to write!!

I hope you enjoy the last chapter of your gift, @klairwritesthings!!!

33 notes - Posted April 17, 2022

#2

See the full post

47 notes - Posted July 13, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

This is stuck in my head now but

I'd like to once again urge people to just talk about asexuality.

And do it in a way that sexless relationships become just one other way a good, healthy relationship can take shape.

No "you haven't found the right person", no "your partner will want sex".

Get used to the idea that a relationship doesn't need sex to thrive.

197 notes - Posted January 26, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[seyaryminamoto]

Matching Heartbeats: Sokkla Saturdays 2020

Day 7: Loyalty

On FF.net//On AO3

A/N: So very sorry for the late entry. I've been having some really serious computer problems lately, I was lucky I finished writing the chapter BEFORE tragedy struck, but it still took me a while to go over the whole thing so it'd be ready to be posted. It's been quite the ordeal of a weekend, ngl.

I'll leave more notes at the end. This is definitely the darkest of my entries so far, so even if there's concepts you dislike... try to bear with me :'D

He knew it. He knew from the start that frozen kid was going to be trouble, but who listens to Sokka? No one ever listens to Sokka. Even the tribe's children never listen to Sokka.

He couldn't stop scowling as he fit his warrior's outfit into place. He didn't have any armor, he was meant to craft his own with his father once he returned from the war… if he returned from the war. The very thought of never seeing him again, just as he'd never see his mother again, made him wish the likely, upcoming fight, would take him away just as well.

But no. He wasn't that weak, he wasn't that stupid: he was here to defend his people. That was what his father had tasked him with, and the women and children from the tribe would be safe with him. He hoped. As long as that damn flare hadn't been glimpsed by anyone Fire Nation, then perhaps they would be. Yet with the damn light beam that burst from the iceberg, just before that airbender tumbled out of it, right into his sister's arms, he couldn't take for granted that the Fire Nation wouldn't have noticed anything. In all likelihood, they'd come… and they might try to wipe out the village altogether. And he had no choice but to fight, even if he failed to stand against them.

He had practiced the traditional warriors' face-paint countless times in the past, with his father's supervision. He had continued doing so even after his father was gone, wondering if he'd ever wear it for a battle… he no longer wondered today. Without even glancing at his reflection in the basin of the hut he was preparing at, Sokka stepped out into the open as Katara and Kanna helped lead the women and children to safety.

It happened after he climbed his watch tower: a loud, machinery sound in the distance. He felt chills rushing down the nape of his neck and scowled: this couldn't be good. They were here. That shape he could see, hidden within the mist, had to belong to a Fire Nation ship.

And he was right, naturally: a massive, metal ship slowly traversed the icy waters, and Sokka clutched his weapons nervously as he watched it looming closer…

And then it stopped, right upon reaching the shore, cracking the ice lightly, as Sokka could see from where he stood at his watch tower. He swallowed hard and raised his gaze at the monumental ship… and then the ramp at its front was lowered with a loud, mechanical hiss. Sokka's whole body trembled as he waited, knowing the enemy would rush them in no time…

Footsteps upon the metal. Loud ones, multiple ones. Sokka frowned as a group of soldiers appeared at the top of the ramp, and he scanned them carefully: it wasn't his first time seeing Fire Nation soldiers in the flesh, but it had been a long time since he had last crossed paths with any of them. And while his anxiety was ramping up because of it, he still could pay enough attention to notice that they were flanking two people who weren't sporting a full soldiers' uniform.

"What is…?" he whispered, narrowing his eyes at the sight of them…

An old man, and a young woman. Both were shorter than the uniformed soldiers, and they were studying their surroundings carefully, it seemed. They walked side by side until they reached the end of the ramp… and then the soldiers lingered back, close to the ship, while the two people who wore lighter armor approached the Tribe's enclosure.

"Ah, but this is quite the freezing environment, isn't it?" the old man said, smiling carelessly at his companion. She scoffed.

"What else could you have expected in the South Pole, Uncle, really?" she said.

The area was silent enough for Sokka to understand their words perfectly. He frowned as he gazed at them, wondering if he should speak up… and just then, the young woman's eyes took to studying his watch tower… to studying him.

He felt the air leaving his lungs, and wondered if perhaps that girl was an airbender like Aang, to make him effectively breathless that way. Or maybe he was just too nervous, too anxious, and terrified of the possible consequences that would come from this encounter with likely firebenders…?

"You, up there," the young woman called to him. Sokka froze. "We come in peace. Find your leader, so we may speak with whoever they are."

"Peace?" Sokka repeated quietly, before raising his voice. "You've just barged into enemy territory on a ship like that, and you expect me to believe you're here to make friends?"

"Well, what else could I be here for?" she replied, with a sarcastic grin. Sokka's stomach sank. "Do tell. Are you hiding anything in your funny huts that I might make use of?"

"Like hell we are! Go back to your rotten nation and leave us be!" Sokka rebuffed, raising his boomerang in an intimidating gesture that he knew would fail.

"We can't quite do that," she said, simply. "Find your leader, I said. We don't have much time."

"Find our leader?" Sokka repeated. "Well, as things stand right now? You're speaking to him! I'm the Tribe's leader!"

"You… no way," she snorted, smiling as she placed her hands on her hips. "The Southern Water Tribe has only one teenager manning their defenses, and he's the tribe leader, too?"

"Maybe we're in the wrong place," the old man suggested, stroking his beard.

"It's possible," his niece replied, still staring at Sokka pointedly. "But it's the closest settlement to the flare, isn't it? And we did see the Avatar skipping about in the ice earlier…"

"I can only hope I'm that flexible and nimble when I'm that age," the man laughed. His niece scoffed.

"You can't even finish climbing the tower's stairs without your knees aching, Uncle…"

"I can work out and regain my good shape, Princess Azula, no need to shame me for not exercising often these days…"

Sokka's eyes widened upon overhearing those words: Princess Azula, he'd said? And they were talking about… the Avatar? Did they believe Aang was the Avatar? If so… then he definitely needed protecting, rather than banishing. Curses, why did everything have to be so complicated…?

"Y-you… you're the Fire Nation Princess?" Sokka asked. She frowned but glared at him, no longer distracted by her uncle.

"Something like that," she said. "Feel more willing to help us track down your Avatar now? Or will this pointless back and forth continue until we freeze to death standing out here?"

Sokka snarled, uneasy. If Aang was the Avatar, he couldn't hand him over to the Fire Nation, not even if they allegedly had come in peace. How could he ever trust a claim like that? Fire Nation people were ambitious, and surely deeply treacherous… these two couldn't be any different. Even from up here, Sokka could tell they were intelligent… they were likely strategists, hoping to trick them somehow. And whatever game they thought they'd play at the expenses of his people, he refused to go along with it.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, so get out and find your Avatar someplace else. We don't have any Avatars here," Sokka declared. The Princess below scoffed.

"Really, now? So that skipping airbender we saw wasn't the Avatar? You're harboring other air nomads here, then? Fine, they'll be useful at tracking down the real thing anyway…"

"There's no one here! No airbender!" Sokka shouted. "There's only women and children inside these walls, and you won't find any Avatars or airbenders or…!"

A sudden, whooshing sound caused the Princess and the uncle to turn sharply to their right: something was rushing their way through the snow. The Princess took up a defensive firebending form immediately, but her uncle spread an arm before her as the shape came closer…

"A child?" the Princess said so softly Sokka nearly failed to hear her: he turned towards the noise as well only to feel his heart sinking to the bottom of his stomach.

Aang was back, surely hoping to help the tribe. Oh, curse that boy and his good heart, why would he choose to return just now?!

"Aang! Go back! Get out!" Sokka shouted, but the young airbender's penguin simply continued to rush towards the two Fire Nation Royals.

Both Azula and her uncle had to leap out of the way so the penguin could continue onwards: the airbender, however, leapt off the creature's back and stood between them and the tribe, holding his staff while gazing at them steadily.

"You're the airbender? The Avatar? A… child?" Azula said, blinking blankly.

"Well, you're just a teenager," Aang said, simply, though he wasn't sure his response warranted as loud a bout of laughter from the old man beside the Princess. "Uh… what's so funny?"

"Ah, it's such a relief! He is a child! See, Princess, no amount of exercise will ever be enough for me to jump around the way he did, ahaha…!"

"Stop giving excuses not to stay fit, Uncle!" Azula hissed. "We're in no position to afford laziness, or sloppiness, and you're indulging in both by neglecting your health and training!"

"Uh… what's going on?" Aang said, blinking blankly before glancing up at Sokka on his tower.

"I know just about as much as you do, buddy," Sokka said, grimacing. "Though… sorry for kicking you out. And thanks for coming back."

"My banishment is lifted?" Aang asked, smiling weakly. Sokka shrugged and hung his head.

"Guess so. Though this isn't over," Sokka said, frowning as he picked up his spear. "You two… last chance. Go back to your ship, and the airbender there won't hurt you."

"Ah, nonsense. Airbenders won't hurt anyone unless it's self-defense," the old man declared proudly. The Princess breathed out and glanced at the young boy before her.

"We're not here to hand you over to Fire Nation authorities, Avatar," she said. Both Aang and Sokka frowned. "If you truly are who we believe you are… then we'll be the very best allies you'll find if you have any hopes to bring back balance to the world."

"You… what?" Aang said.

Sokka frowned heavily and jumped, slipping down his tower and landing right next to Aang – by the tribe's front gates, Katara lurked, gazing out at the debate between the two Fire Nation visitors, her brother and her friend: where both Sokka and Aang were reluctant, dubious, the old man couldn't seem to stop smiling in a disarming manner… while his niece offered them a steeled glare, sharper than a blade, more unyielding than the sturdiest of metals:

"We need you to help us defeat the Fire Lady."

Where the villagers no doubt had expected a confrontation, they had found, instead, a diplomatic visit, of sorts. The soldiers had stayed aboard the ship, leaving the two royals to deal with the discussions and to convince the skeptical teenagers and the young Avatar to join their cause: it wouldn't be easy, but Azula was certain it could be done.

"I'm pretty confused as it is, but I guess I'll hear you out," the Avatar decided, smiling as they sat at the central fireplace of the village: Azula and Iroh sat with them, while the rest of the villagers – just as the warrior had claimed, women and children – watched from a safe distance. Acceptable, understandable caution, all things considered.

"What's this about a Fire Lady?" the warrior asked, frowning as he stared at Azula. "Last I knew, it was a Fire Lord who was throwing the world out of balance. When did that change?"

"To be precise? Five years ago," Azula said, simply. The warrior appeared perplexed, but curious enough to continue listening anyway.

"Our dad left about four years ago…" the teenage girl said, glancing at him with unease. "I guess we haven't heard from anything in the outside world since then… and even before that, news didn't spread much either."

"Naturally. You're in the South Pole, and with the war's politics being what they are…" Iroh said, shaking his head "Everyone has taken to isolating, instead of thinking clearly: a coalition between Earth Kingdom, Water Tribe and Fire Nation rebel forces would more than suffice to topple my sister-in-law's regime."

"Your sister-in-law?" the warrior repeated.

"My mother," Azula said, curtly. The words seemed to send a powerful ripple of confused understanding through all her three new acquaintances.

"Y-your mom…?" said the Avatar.

"She is the Fire Lady. Has been, since Fire Lord Azulon died mysteriously on the night he demanded for my brother to be killed to punish my father's transgressions," Azula explained, gritting her teeth. Sharing such memories with strangers wasn't easy, despite she had grown used to discussing them in recent times. "My father was crowned on the next day. He was dead too, within the week."

"Wait… your mom killed them?" asked the warrior, aghast. "Y-you're saying…"

"I'm saying she's leading the Fire Nation as we speak. Has been, for the past six years," Azula said, staring at the young man intently. "She has avoided every political reprieve sent her way, hell knows how, and ensured to stay on the throne under the guise of being my brother's regent: he will come of age within a few months, and once he does, he'll be Fire Lord in her stead. One step out of line, however, and…"

"You keep saying that, Azula, but I doubt Ursa would kill Zuko…" said Iroh. Azula scoffed.

"I'm her daughter. She banished me. I know she prefers him over me, but that hardly makes her an innocent person, let alone is she incapable of protecting her own interests to the point of sacrificing her own family," Azula snarled.

"Why did your mother banish you?" the warrior's sister asked. "That's awful!"

"She found a petty excuse, started an argument I didn't back down from. Demanded that I should be taught respect and tasked me with tracking down the Avatar and handing him over to her to prove my loyalty and worth to my nation," Azula explained, rolling her eyes. "I have no intentions of doing such a thing, if you expected otherwise: I don't trust that woman. Even calling her my mother revolts me. That she killed my father is…"

"Now, now, Azula…" Iroh said, patting his niece's back. She flinched away from his touch, but attempted to focus again.

"She sent my uncle Iroh with me, because he's yet another threat to her ill-gotten throne," Azula declared. "The two of us were investigating, looking into both my father and grandfather's deaths, if independently… and she knew it was only a matter of time before we unearthed solid evidence of foul play. Granted, the situation is as fishy as can be, as things stand, but…"

"But she has managed to play everything off as a coincidence so far," said Iroh, grimacing. "I wasn't in the Fire Nation when she took the throne… by the time I arrived, she was much too comfortable on her seat. I couldn't do anything but offer my assistance to Azula, and hope to guide Zuko away from her, but…"

"But you'd never succeed at that," Azula said, bitterly. "My brother is the only one who's better off with this arrangement. I don't think I ever saw him quite so happy."

"I guess he's the favorite kid?" Sokka asked. Azula scoffed.

"Hers? Yes. Iroh's, too. He's stuck with me because he has no choice."

"Oi! I do appreciate you, Azula! We've been scheming together for three years now!"

"That's no evidence to contradict my claim," Azula said, dismissively. Iroh's outrage amused the Avatar and his female friend slightly, though the warrior only continued to watch the Princess pointedly. "My father did favor me, and he wasn't kind to my brother. Neither was my grandfather, who outright asked for him to be executed, so…"

"What a messed-up family," sighed the warrior, shaking his head. "So you two don't like each other but are stuck together, your mom is in the Fire Nation grooming your brother into being her perfect brainwashed tool, and your dad is dead, and your grandpa is dead too because he wanted to have your brother killed? Is that how it is?"

"Uh… yeah. More or less," Azula said. He sighed.

"And what exactly do you expect to accomplish next?" he asked. "You want Aang to help you take down your mom? You're on some quest for revenge or something?"

"You could say that, yes," Azula said. He scoffed.

"And how do I know you're not simply going to hand him over to Fire Nation authorities, so your banishment gets revoked and you're free to live your life as you wish?"

"You'd know it if you'd known me for longer than you have," Azula replied, with a dry grin. "I'm no fool: I don't long for my mother's approval, I want her held accountable for her crimes. Even if I went home, and she pretended to love me and accept me because I brought her the Avatar, it would amount to nothing more than a pretense. Within another two years she'd find another excuse to get rid of me, and where would I find anyone else to help me depose her then?"

"But the problem is your mom, right? Not your brother," said the Avatar, tapping his chin. "So if he becomes Fire Lord… wouldn't we have to fight him instead?"

"You don't truly believe that my mother, after all her scheming, would set down her crown and throne and leave my brother to rule without her 'guidance', do you?" Azula asked, skeptical. "She'll control him, without his awareness. A puppeteer, you could say, ensuring the Fire Lord doesn't go astray, meaning, she intends to retain his loyal to her at all costs. My brother isn't the problem, it's her."

"And how do you plan on defeating her, without causing him any trouble?" the warrior asked. "I feel like if we help you guys, and you're not tricking us at all, we'll end up going from one problem to the next: take out the Fire Lady, and her son will follow on her footsteps and set the whole world on fire. Right?"

"That's exactly why our intent isn't as violent as you may think," Iroh said, with a weak grin. "I assumed the Avatar would be old… perhaps too old to be of use. But he's young! And, I'm sure, inexperienced with all four elements. Right?"

"Uh… I'm afraid so," the Avatar admitted, with a lukewarm grin.

"Then the course is clear! He must learn all the elements before becoming the protector of harmony in our world," Iroh grinned. "Though… I don't know if you can learn waterbending here. Last I knew, Fire Lord Azulon had…"

"Attacked our tribes, countless times?" asked the warrior, scowling.

"I'm the last waterbender left in the South Pole," the sister announced, sadly. Azula grimaced.

"Then… ugh. It means he'd have to learn up north instead," said Azula, glancing at Iroh… to find him grinning madly, of course. "Well, then. Out with it. You have an idea, don't you?"

"A lot of them, actually," he giggled. "Pakku is in the North! And Bumi in the Earth Kingdom. I can be the firebending teacher, and…"

"Bumi?!" exclaimed the Avatar, his eyes wide. "Y-you know Bumi? Wait, how do you know Bumi? Is Bumi still alive?! I thought I'd been frozen for a hundred years!"

"Uh… huh. That explains your youth, at least," said Iroh. Azula grimaced, resolving to explain more about that particular matter later. "And… yes. I believe King Bumi is well past his hundred years. If you know him… then all the better! I can see to it that you train and develop your skills as the Avatar little by little, young man. What do you say?"

"Well, I say we have to think about it," the warrior declared, crossing his arms over his chest. "Not to look a gift ostrich horse in the beak, but…"

"Can I come too?!"

"K-Katara?!"

Despite the Avatar appeared nervous, it seemed he would agree to their proposal, and the waterbender was absolutely stoked about joining them, too: the warrior was the only one with obvious doubts, and while Azula held his accusatory, distrustful gaze with relentless defiance, Iroh only laughed and clapped cheerfully.

"It seems we have quite the journey ahead of us!" he declared, deliberately ignoring the warrior's obvious displeasure, focusing only on the far more cheerful and agreeable response of the waterbender.

Azula guessed the warrior boy might be trouble, and yet she couldn't blame him for it in the least: the readiness of the other two to trust them was surprisingly agreeable and yet proof of how innocent and gullible they were. They were rather fortunate that they had no ill-intentions indeed, Azula reasoned, after she returned to her ship that day: the soldiers welcomed her, ever ready to obey her every command. The highly questionable Fire Lady, in whose veins did not flow any royal blood, had failed to charm every soldier to her favor. Where she had hoped, no doubt, to get rid of her most dangerous opponents by tossing them in the sea with the least reliable soldiers in her army, her decision had been double-edged: Azula and Iroh had joined forces, and within less than a few months, the entire ship answered to them, and only to them. It was one starting point of rebellion, one Azula hoped they'd be able to expand further… but only after they gained enough political relevance and power to challenge her mother's rule, and her brother's, if it came to that. The Avatar was the key to achieving that goal.

Noise by the ramp surprised Azula as she paced on deck. She stepped close to the ship's railing to find the warrior boy, naturally, had approached the ship. What did he want? Shouldn't he be packing, or resting, before setting out on their long voyage?

Despite her better sense told her otherwise, Azula made her way down to the ramp indeed, finding the soldiers had been reluctant to let him through. The warrior pouted rather childishly, and she sighed as she stepped between the soldiers and himself, startling him when he failed to notice her presence.

"Do you need something?" she asked, directly. His childish expression faded quickly.

"Just… wanted to talk," he said, raising his hands defensively. "I won't do anything bad, I promise."

"Hmm. You promise, then," Azula said, releasing a breath before ordering the soldiers to let him through.

The two made their way to the deck, a small walk Azula found no wonders in, considering she'd traversed the full extent of her ship countless times in the past. To the warrior beside her, however, it was likely the first Fire Nation battleship he had ever entered. His amazement was apparent… and yet he voiced no compliments, containing his amazement as best he could. And while he studied his future means of transportation, Azula studied him: he was perhaps slightly older than her, and yet burdened with a much more dangerous duty than he himself had likely ever realized. Where Azula would have been forced to stay in her brother's mediocre shadow, if her mother had her way, this young warrior was expected to protect his people at all costs…

"So… what do you need to talk about?" she asked him, as they came to a halt on the deck. He grimaced.

"Well… I'm just worried," he said, earnestly. "Look, I'm sorry for what your mom's done, and I really don't know how I'd react if anything like that had ever happened to me, but… are you against the Fire Nation? Or just against her?"

"You're wondering if I'll want to continue the war after she's defeated and replaced?" Azula asked. He swallowed hard and nodded.

"I just… don't know where your loyalties really lie. And I think I should, before we join you in this trip. I don't know if I can trust you."

"I never did ask you to trust me, did I?" she said, plainly, but he scoffed.

"Just by asking us to join forces with you, or rather, asking Aang… you're silently asking me to entrust the best hope this world has to you. Maybe you didn't say the words directly, but you're asking for trust anyway. And…"

"And you'd be a fool to give it to me blindly when we've only just met," Azula concluded. The warrior released a breath… perhaps relieved she understood his plight. "My father trusted my mother, no doubt: she took advantage of that trust to kill him. Do you really think I'd be so stupid as to ask for trust… or to give it?"

He froze in place, their eyes holding each other's gaze firmly. Both of them had been through their own set of struggles, she realized that… but if he had come here looking for a heartfelt speech about how good a person she was, he was out of luck. Azula had no intentions to…

He smiled.

She blinked twice, and then he sighed, hanging his head while setting his hands on his hips.

"You know what? I can live with that," he said. Azula raised her eyebrows, puzzled.

"With… not being trusted?" she asked. He nodded.

"The Avatar's dead-sure his bison thing can fly, you know?" he said. "If you or your creepy uncle do anything on this trip that we can't accept… well, I'll be grabbing my two dorks, climbing on that saddle and getting as far from you guys as possible. And as you're not going to ask for trust, or give it, that should be fine by you, right?"

"It is, actually," Azula said, simply. "While I'd rather have the Avatar on my side… it's not a necessity either, despite Iroh is certain of the opposite. We're loyal to our own causes and purposes, and there's no reason why it should be any different. This is an alliance of convenience, nothing more."

"Sounds right to me," he said, extending his hand towards her. "By the way… my name is Sokka. I heard your uncle calling your name before, so… figured it was a good idea to tell you mine."

"Sokka, then?" she repeated, before raising a hand to clasp his. "Very well. Let's… not trust each other."

"Perfect," Sokka grinned.

It was an odd arrangement… yet one that brought a smile to Azula's face just as well. She had the strange feeling she could grow used to the warrior's presence, despite everything…

Their long journey began on the next day, after the three new passengers climbed aboard the ship, once they said their farewells to their fellow tribespeople. The journey to the North Pole would be long, and Azula wondered if those three would be able to endure the trappings of the steel ship without complaint… strangely, the Avatar was the most restless of the group, often taking off on gliding trips unless they neared any Fire Nation watchtowers. The waterbender had been quite eager to manipulate the seawater they were coursing through… but just as expected, she wasn't skilled enough to bend anything impressive yet.

The warrior was the least restless one, Azula had thought… until he happened upon her training with Iroh on the ship's deck one day. The old man often told her to take her drills calmly, to focus on her basics… but she didn't have time to take it easy. Her blue fire needed to be strengthened further, that was all there was to it…

"The source of firebending… isn't aggression," Iroh had said to her, on one afternoon. Azula scoffed and glared.

"Really? And that's why the way to conjure fire is by hugging people, right?"

"You misunderstand," Iroh sighed. "But hopefully you'll see in time. Firebending is an art… it isn't merely a means to an end. You can channel your rage through it… but that won't make you any stronger than you would be if you fought calmly, in direct contact with your inner fire."

"That's too bad," Azula hissed back. Iroh shook his head and made to leave… only stopping on his tracks upon finding someone stood by the threshold of the tower, watching them.

Sokka flinched and stepped out of the way, offering Iroh a guilty grin before glancing at Azula. The exiled Princess scowled at first, but surely he didn't bear any nefarious intent in mind, going by that goofy smile across his face.

"That… that was pretty impressive," he said, biting his lip. "Your fire… it's pretty cool, you know? That it's blue… it's not like everyone else's, right?"

"Indeed," Azula replied, bluntly.

"It's a sign of strength, I figure? Or something?" Sokka continued. "Well, whatever it may be a sign of… you're pretty good with your fire. Which, well, isn't something I ever thought I'd say to a firebender, but times change…"

"I guess they do," Azula said, raising her eyebrows. "I suppose you're quite bored if you're watching my attempts to train…"

"Well… bored and a little curious," Sokka admitted, grinning awkwardly. "I thought I was ready to fight you before, but I guess I wasn't. I just… wanted to ask if it's okay if I train with you once in a while? You know, polish my skills…"

"Polish your skills?" Azula repeated, a hint of amusement crossing her face. "Why… I suppose that'd be fine, yes."

Sokka grinned brightly and rushed inside to collect his weapons when she told him to. By the time he returned, he was stretching and smirking proudly.

"Well, I sure hope you're ready, Princess. You haven't seen what I can do so far, so I think I have an advantage," he said, raising his club in her direction. Azula smirked too.

"Oh, the horror," she said, sarcastically. He flinched as she took up a stance. "Give me your best shot. You'll regret it if you don't."

And he did regret it, of course: as much as he tried, he couldn't seem to avoid the power of those blue flames. He dodged clumsily, attacked even more clumsily, but to Azula's amusement, he never asked for respite. He didn't beg for her to stop attacking. He was stubborn… and that was a good thing.

She defeated him on every round that day. He seemed discouraged for it, lying against the ship's railing while breathing heavily, his body overheated despite it was still rather cold. She approached him with a slightly more sympathetic smile than intended, taking her seat beside him.

"You're not very experienced in combat. That's all there is to it," she said. "Train with me some more, and you'll be able to withstand the strongest of firebenders without breaking a sweat."

"You sure?" Sokka asked, grimacing. "I thought I'd made a fool of myself…"

"Oh, you did, but it was a lot of fun. I can stand for a few more reasons to be amused," she said, grinning at him. He snorted and laughed, shaking his head.

"Great. I'm a laughingstock for the Princess. Just what I hoped for," he said, dropping his head against the railing.

"And what else were you hoping for?" she asked.

"Uh… respect of equals?" he said. She snorted and laughed outright, surprising him. "What? You don't have to laugh that hard…"

"You and I aren't equals, Sokka. On any level," she said, smiling at him. "Not yet, anyway. More training is required, without a doubt, if that's what you're looking for."

"Then I'll oblige," he said, smirking too. "You think I'll back away from a challenge just because you're pretty… uh, pretty intimidating?"

"Ah. I'm pretty?" she said. He grimaced and blushed.

"That's not what I said! I was just… looking for the right word!"

"Sure you were: pretty. That was it," Azula smiled. He groaned and covered his face with his hands.

"Is this a thing girls do?" he asked, flustered. "Turning a guy's words against him mercilessly just because they feel like it?"

"I have no idea. Bu it's certainly something I do," she said, grinning at him.

She hadn't had much of a chance to try her luck with boys so far – she had been banished three years ago, and too busy trying to harvest evidence to prove her mother was up to no good on the years before that to look for any suitable matches. But if she wasn't misreading the situation… this warrior might actually harbor more than a wish for mutual respect for her. She wouldn't mind it much, if he did. He was easy on the eyes himself, there was no denying that…

"Guess I'll have to get used to it, then?" he said, smiling back at her. "Or… maybe I could, uh, try my luck at it too? You know, if you ever say I'm handsome…!"

"I'd never say that," Azula declared, proudly. Sokka scoffed.

"You could say 'hand', and right after, 'some', and then I could misinterpret it just as you did right now…" he said. Azula laughed.

"How so?" she smiled. "'Get your hand some ice, because I burned it so badly'?"

"See? There you go. You think I'm handsome too," Sokka declared. Azula laughed again, dropping her head against the railing as he smiled at her. "Alright, jokes aside… you have a nice smile, you know?"

"I'm not taking any of it as a joke, mind you," Azula declared. "But, truthfully I… haven't had much of a reason to smile for the past six years."

"Yeah… I can tell," Sokka whispered. "And I don't blame you. Though… at first I figured you got along better with Iroh than you do. You two seemed to be on the same page when you were at the tribe's doorstep… guess I just jumped to conclusions, huh?"

"I did say Zuko was his favorite, didn't I?" Azula said, her smile waning. "Truthfully… my mother assumed we would never be able to work together. That's why she exiled us this way, and she would have been correct in her assessment… if only Iroh and I weren't slightly sharper than she hoped we'd be. Even if we can't stand each other's guts, the bigger picture is the priority. Whatever happens after we've dealt with my mother, Iroh and I will work together until she's defeated. That's simply how it is."

"Your family really feels… awful," said Sokka, grimacing. "Not just that your mother's the worst person in the planet right now, apparently… but you can't even rely on your uncle even if you've been traveling with him for three years? I… can't imagine how difficult it must be to live this way."

"Your people have a rather different culture from mine," Azula said, simply. "Family… matters more to you. Far more than it matters to us, apparently."

"You're trying to do right by yours, though. In your own way," Sokka said.

"Am I?" Azula said. "You weren't wrong to say this is a quest of revenge. I don't even know how far it will take me, and even if it's my father I hope to avenge, I'll…"

"You'll fight and maybe even kill your own family?" Sokka asked, frowning. Azula shrugged.

"Is there any other choice?" she asked. "My mother isn't a firebender, but she will have all the strongest soldiers of our nation defending her. She will gain all the advantages she can obtain, anything to stay on the throne, or close enough to it, once my brother takes office. How can I pretend I'll defeat her through anything less than that?"

"She's still your mother," said Sokka, eyeing her with uncertainty.

"He was her husband. I am her daughter. Didn't stop her," Azula said, closing her eyes.

Sokka swallowed hard but conceded once he fell silent. Perhaps he knew there were some things in life you couldn't fix just by talking them out… perhaps he knew there were some people no one could fix with just a heartfelt conversation. If so, she certainly had been rather lucky to have it with him, rather than anyone who might have been more forceful about making her abide by their ideals…

"Will you… train with me again tomorrow?" Azula asked, softly. He blinked blankly but glanced at her with a weak grin.

"If you'll have me, sure thing," he said, grinning. Azula smiled and nodded.

They continued to train hard across the next weeks of their long journey: the weather changed as they progressed north, prompting Sokka to occasionally train with sleeveless shirts and, on one fatefully hot day, outright shirtless. It was outrageous… and yet she had been so distracted he had nearly beaten her for the first time on the day he had first done so. Utterly embarrassing.

She spent more time with him than she ever meant to, than she did with most everyone else. Iroh had taken to spending more time with the Avatar, and he offered the waterbender frequent advice, but the warrior… he seemed to be drawn to her. To find more common ground with her, to feel safer with her than with the soldiers, or her uncle… and it was strange. It felt right, even if her mind said it was wrong. For she was growing used to him… and she didn't think that was wise. She was supposed to stand strong, to need nothing, no one… and she certainly didn't need this boy. But… did he need her? Sometimes, when he gazed at her with those clear blue eyes after their sparring was done, she wondered if he did. And she also wondered what that would mean for her, if that was the case.

The Northern Water Tribe was magnificent, yet a dreadful mirror that reflected how miserable and downtrodden his own tribe was, back home. Sokka had been amazed by it until that reality had dawned on him… he gazed at Azula, finding she seemed utterly unconcerned with the regal glory of the location, focusing instead on preserving her body heat as best she could. She was used to this opulence… if anything, she probably felt at home with it. It suited her, Sokka thought, to a fault… what if she dressed up in a Water Tribe parka? Then it could match her blue fire, why not…?

He shook his head quickly as they were ferried into the depths of the tribe on a canoe that Iroh had somehow arranged for them. He'd been having strange thoughts about Azula for a while now, thoughts he was sure he shouldn't have. She was so driven, so determined, so set on her goals… becoming her sparring partner had been a good idea, both for her and himself, as even though he had never defeated her, his combat abilities had increased greatly with her as his opponent, or at least, he thought they had. He had more stamina and he had learned many things regarding how to read a bender's next movements. Seeing as she was a firebender, he expected that what he'd learned would come in handy in the future.

But that was it, wasn't it? He'd said it himself: he didn't trust her, and neither did she trust him. As far as he could tell, she didn't trust anyone, not even her uncle… and considering what she'd been through, he didn't blame her for that. Yet the more he sympathized with her, the less he distrusted her… was that healthy? Was it a good idea to like her better than he should have…? With every glance he stole in her direction, he knew in his mind it wasn't, but in his heart…

They were welcomed with pomp and splendor, and Sokka felt more and more out of place with each passing moment. He wasn't sure why he felt so inadequate, or why he felt the need to stand beside Azula throughout the whole matter… perhaps he feared this was some sort of trap, too. That the northerners would consider them traitors, and would capture Aang, Azula and Iroh and send them giftwrapped to the Fire Lady… even the welcoming smiles of the local Princess, who seemed to get along fairly well with Katara as they sat together during the welcoming feast, didn't reassure him at all. And the balding, bitter man Iroh had proposed as Aang's new waterbending teacher didn't help matters much either.

Maybe he was simply used to expecting the worst from people, at this point: on the next day, Master Pakku accepted Aang as his student gladly, and rejected Katara, outright, for he refused to teach women how to fight. Sokka had spent most that day waiting for Azula to finish her meetings with Iroh and the tribe's leaders when Katara stormed in, revealing her outrageous struggle to him.

"He's a jerk! Why wouldn't I be allowed to fight just because I'm a girl?" Katara exclaimed. "He wants me to learn healing? I've never healed anyone with bending! I know other techniques to do that, but not with bending! What if I can't heal someone, and I waste all my valuable time here learning something I can't even do?!"

"Uh… I don't know?" said Sokka, grimacing: the door swung open then, and Katara glanced at Azula and Aang, who had arrived at the same time.

"You okay, Katara…?" Aang asked. Katara huffed.

"Of course I'm not! That Master Pakku is the worst!" she exclaimed.

"Why's that?" Azula asked, raising her eyebrows. "I suppose I shouldn't take for granted that any of my uncle's associates are worthwhile, but… I had hoped he wasn't completely worthless."

"Well, he thinks I can't learn waterbending combat because I'm a girl," said Katara. Sokka grimaced, glancing at Azula with uncertainty, wondering what her reaction would be…

"Wow. And here I assumed these people were civilized," Azula said, with a sarcastic grin. Katara grinned brightly at the obvious, expected support from a successful, powerful female warrior. "So much opulence and fancy halls, and yet they're the most backwards nation I've seen, if this is how it is."

"Well, it's not like we were much better off down south…" Katara admitted, shooting a glare at Sokka. "Someone had a thing for telling me I should stay back and let him handle all the fighting, or, how was it? 'Leave it to a girl to mess everything up'?"

"Hey! Not like I was wrong, was I? You kept soaking my clothes!" Sokka pouted.

"Not the point! Me being a girl has nothing to do with whatever I can do with my bending!" Katara declared. "And that stupid, uptight, stick-in-the-mud Master Pakku…"

"You… seriously said that kind of stuff?"

Sokka froze in place: it felt like his heart had stopped upon hearing Azula speak with such stark disapproval to him. He grimaced under her skeptical stare: just what he needed, the girl he liked would think he was a…

The girl he liked? That thought alone jumpstarted his heart again immediately.

"It's not… it's not really like that?" Sokka smiled awkwardly. "I mean, big brothers always mess with their sisters, right?"

"Right," said Azula, dryly. Sokka grimaced: she didn't believe him. Oh, hell, she didn't believe him. She turned towards Katara again, though, with a proud grin. "Well, then… I guess you need a solution for your dilemma. And I think I need a new sparring partner too, so…"

"W-what?! Hey! That's not…!"

"What do you say we give that Master Pakku a rather alarming surprise?" Azula suggested, smirking at Katara. Sokka could swear he had never seen his sister's eyes glisten so brightly.

"I have no idea what you have in mind… but the answer is yes. Absolutely, yes," Katara said, beaming.

Master Pakku would obviously expect that the stubborn waterbender would rebel against him. Thus, Azula recruited even Aang for her plan: the Avatar was perplexed over his role, but apparently, walking at night across several ice streets, on his way to a supposed hiding place, was as good a plan as any.

Sokka, of course, was barred from joining the plan. Azula wasn't sure why she was so outraged, she wasn't completely surprised that women would be dismissed as irrelevant in combat by certain cultures… but perhaps it had something to do with the suspicion that he wouldn't have held back against her, not even on their first encounter. He had sparred with her constantly, failing to defeat her… and not once had he voiced any dismissing words or thoughts like those Katara had credited to him. Maybe it was true, and he was merely an annoying older brother… or maybe it wasn't true, and he simply didn't see Azula as a woman.

And why, oh, why did that thought bother her so damn much?

She was being an idiot, she knew, but she had no time to think about that. Instead, she encouraged Katara to step closer to the nearest stream, and the waterbender did as much, most willingly.

"Now, then… follow my lead. Only, bring water with you, and perform the movements with me," Azula decided. Katara nodded.

"Then… I'll learn fire-waterbending?" she smiled. Azula shrugged.

"Seems like it. Now, then, pay attention to the sequence of my movements… every last one of them."

Azula shifted from kata to kata, conjuring firebending with her renowned expertise. Katara swallowed hard as the short sequence was finished, and she sought to repeat it, carrying water with her: the result wasn't particularly impressive, and yet the water had obeyed her more than when they had been on the ship. Katara grinned brightly at her, and Azula smirked.

"Let's keep going, then," she said. "I have the feeling you'll learn a lot of fire-waterbending for sure."

"Thank you for this, really," Katara laughed. "I know it's not the traditional way, but… who cares, right? If the traditional waterbending styles are meant to be for men, I'd rather find my own way to bend instead."

"Sounds about right," Azula smirked. "Alright, next sequence…"

"Oh, hey, guys!" Aang's voice came from the ceiling of a building: he airbent himself down to the river and smiled peacefully, despite he was, quite apparently, nervous. "Want some help? I can give you a few tips, Katara…"

"No need for that, Avatar," Azula said, raising her voice unnecessarily. "Outdated bending will never defeat the Fire Nation. I'll teach her a far better combat method, so much better you'll be begging her to teach you, rather than the other way around, once I'm through with her…"

"What do you think you're doing?!"

Azula turned, staring at the elderly waterbending master with nonchalance as he stood at a bridge, overlooking their alleged hideout. Katara tensed up, and Aang fell off his air scooter, grimacing at Pakku's obvious loss of temper.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Azula said, simply. "I'll teach her combat waterbending. Why? You'd rather to do it yourself?"

"What a childish claim… your culture is different from ours, Princess Azula!" Pakku declared. "Don't expect to impose your values here!"

"Oh, but I want her to teach me. I asked you, you said no, she offered, and I'm taking her up on that offer," Katara said, simply. "And hey! You have no power to stop her!"

"Unless you have anything else to add, feel free to walk away," Azula said, waving a hand dismissively at Pakku. "Katara has to learn to defend herself as best she can, after all. We may eventually be caught in a path of violence, and she refuses to be dead weight for the rest of us. Who knows? She might even end up saving the Avatar's life…"

"Don't ridicule me! That sort of notion could never…!"

"You know? Maybe this is why they're still winning."

Sokka's voice startled everyone, breaking across the near-scripted encounter with complete naturality: he had sneaked up on Pakku, and he stood beside him, glancing between his friends and the waterbending master, who turned towards him in confused outrage.

"You saw her, didn't you? She's a powerhouse," Sokka said, smiling at Azula. "A girl that strong… she might be the greatest firebender in the world, don't you think? She can even bend blue fire! When had you ever heard of something like that? And you know what? Maybe some of the girls you've refused to teach could have been as strong as Princess Azula was. Then… maybe the Fire Nation could've been stopped before the war escalated this much. Meanwhile, the Fire Nation is perfectly willing to train their girls, and Azula is an example: if she weren't a rebel, she'd be fighting against us, and I can tell you, that would suck big time. She's the strongest girl I've ever met… and I have no doubts she'd kick my ass, and yours, and everyone else's, if given a chance. Maybe… maybe you should give my sister a chance, too. If a girl's power can be the driving force to end this war… why not support her? Why not teach her? Why not break old traditions that don't make any sense?"

Pakku scowled, but confusion crossed his eyes. For a long moment, Sokka stood there, holding the man's gaze… only for Pakku to storm off without another word. Sokka grimaced and sighed, glancing at Katara apologetically after Pakku's footsteps were undoubtedly gone.

"Sorry, I… hoped I could help," he said. "Guess I messed it up."

"You didn't…!" Katara gasped, smiling brightly at Sokka. "You… you really think all that, Sokka? Or are you just trying to impress Azula, now…?"

"W-wha…?! Hey! Of course I think so! All I just said is true!" Sokka exclaimed, blushing as both Katara and Aang laughed.

"Well… even if he won't teach you, you can learn with me and Azula!" Aang said, beaming at Katara as the two of them started on their way back to their given rooms, across the bridge Sokka stood at. "Teaching waterbending with firebending… it sounds fun, right?"

"It was! I don't know how effective it'll be, but it was!" Katara grinned, and she continued to chat animatedly with Aang as they walked back to their quarters.

Sokka stayed behind, waiting for Azula to reach the bridge too. She released a breath as she stepped towards him, stopping at arm's length.

"All you said was true, for sure," she said. "Whether you truly believe it or not, it is. That the driving force in the war right now is a female non-bender ought to speak lengths about how no one should be underestimating women. It's the entire reason my mother got away with everything she did until now…"

"True… and I won't lie to you, okay? I think you've had people lying a lot to you throughout your life. I don't want to be like them," Sokka whispered. "I did think, back before I knew you, that women had some very specific duties… and men had other duties, too. That's how I was raised, and I did say a lot of stupid things to Katara because of it. I mean… it doesn't mean I'm a monster, I hope, but… I know now it was wrong. After all I've trained with you, and all the time I've spent with you, now I'm… I'm able to look back and know I messed up. I shouldn't have said the things I did to Katara, not even if I was just trying to be an annoying older brother…"

"If you truly know that… then I guess it means you should come up with more creative ways to annoy your sister, from this day forward," Azula said. And Sokka grinned brightly once he saw she was smiling, too. "I'll choose to believe you truly have changed… because if you somehow don't think I'm a girl, and that's why you trained with me for all this time…"

"W-what?! Heck, that's what you thought?! Hell, no, absolutely not, Azula…!"

"I mean, I'd hope you wouldn't think that, you did say I was pretty, so…"

They both talked over each other, and only stopped when the other did. A light laugh left both their lips, and Sokka smiled fondly at her.

"I do think you are pretty, you know?" he said. "Though… I guess that's not too relevant to the conversation, is it?"

"Isn't it?" Azula whispered, softly. "You think I'm pretty… and the most powerful firebender in the world, too?"

"Uh… yeah. I think that sums it up," Sokka grinned. Azula laughed again, shaking her head.

"I guess I should thank you, if anything. For what you did just now, and… for everything else," Azula whispered, gazing at him intensely. Sokka's chest tightened: everything else? What did that even mean…?

The question vanished in his head once she stepped closer, leaning forward… and he followed suit, catching her lips with his own clumsily. He didn't really know how to do this, he'd never done it before… and neither had she. But they stood where they did, under the dark skies in the North Pole, sharing a strange, sincere, peaceful moment where no wars weighed on their minds, no conflicts, no pursuits of revenge…

He held her in place, feeling closer to Azula than ever before, and not only because they were kissing: despite their starting point had suggested otherwise, by now he found himself trusting her, wholeheartedly, even if he shouldn't have. For even if the Fire Nation would never reassure him, he thought he understood her loyalty better after today. It wasn't a matter of nations, not for her… it was a matter of standing by those you treasured, come what may. And while she shouldn't have grown fond of them, for a myriad of reasons, she wouldn't have helped Katara so readily if she hadn't felt a powerful kinship with all three of them by now. Perhaps he could see through Azula better now, if just a little…

Surprisingly, Pakku relented on the next day: he took to training Katara personally, freeing Azula to spar with her and Aang on evenings, so the waterbenders could test their skills against firebenders like herself. Mornings, however – if they could be called that, it was always damn dark in this pole, as far as Azula could tell – were much more exciting: she'd spend the whole time with Sokka, training with him just as well… and occasionally doing something other than training, too. They were still young, and they had much left to learn… and as it was, they were quite busy learning how to kiss properly. And with every joyful grin their secretive exchanges elicited in Sokka, Azula's heart soared too. Suddenly it was all too easy to forget she wasn't merely taking a trip with friends, seeing the world, and that she had a rather important task in mind…

She guessed everyone had figured out what was brewing between her and Sokka by the time Iroh decided they'd do best to leave already, once all alliances were settled, and the two waterbenders had learned plenty by Pakku's standards. They didn't walk hand-in-hand, nor did they make any sorts of affectionate gestures in public… but Sokka never stopped smiling goofily at her. It wasn't unpleasant, of course. She could withstand it, no doubt. Though she did fear that, if this kept up, her uncle would congratulate her, and even offer unwanted love advice… ugh, just the idea was embarrassing and sickening.

Yet their new journey was different, now that they were together, in some strange way. She shared her meals with Sokka, visited him in his cabin, and he visited her in hers. They spent occasional afternoons napping together, or talking, or simply cuddling… and all of it had been smooth, perfectly agreeable, filling her chest with a joyful warmth she was sure she had never experienced before. She shouldn't lower her guard so much, she knew that… but Sokka felt safe. He was a good person… he couldn't lie, it wasn't in his system. And he valued people… he treasured them. That was why he could hold her so closely, why his strong heartbeats could soothe her, why his voice sent blissful shivers down her spine…

It was slowly becoming the best period of her life. She didn't need anything but his sweet good night kisses, and his stubbornness as they trained together, and his clumsy flirty remarks that charmed her even if her common sense told her she shouldn't find them all that amusing. She wanted more of this, more of him…

Until they reached Omashu, and reality slammed into her with the force of an avalanche once they glimpsed the red-and-black banner of the Fire Nation dangling at those gates.

"She made another move. She's… she's going to take more and more Earth Kingdom bastions until everything is under her control!" Azula had exclaimed, fists tightened as she glared at the city.

"Calm yourself, Azula," Iroh said, breathing deeply. "We… we may yet find a way in."

"Bumi…" Aang grimaced, lowering his gaze. "We're too late to help…"

"I doubt it. I'm sure we can get in somehow," Sokka said, stubbornly. "The Fire Nation can't be that infallible. And hey! They probably didn't kill your friend Bumi either, Aang, because if he's king, like Iroh says, he's too valuable to kill anyway! So that means we have a chance to save him, alright?"

"You're right… you're right!" Aang said, frowning with determination. "I'll find Bumi. I mean, I hope I can recognize him even now, but I'll do it! And I know just the way to get inside the city!"

The way inside, as it happens, included a trip through sewers that Iroh, naturally, refrained from taking part of. He claimed he'd stay outside, with their soldiers, ensuring to stay hidden while he left the difficult job to the youngsters since they'd, allegedly, blend in easier. No, Azula didn't believe for a second that he was doing it for any other reason besides being appalled by the notion of waddling through literal rivers of shit.

But the more shocking moment of the experience came afterwards: as much as they tried to sneak through the city unnoticed, they failed to be stealthy enough to avoid hostilities by Fire Nation soldiers. And while Aang and Katara managed to keep most at bay with their bending, a sudden flurry of projectiles cast towards Sokka when he was busy parrying a soldier's flames with his club, caused Azula to leap forward and banish them away from him with a blast of blue flames… and a familiar voice suddenly spoke, in the darkness of Omashu's night streets:

"Azula?"

Those projectiles. That voice. Azula froze in place as she raised her gaze to find a silhouette so familiar, and yet so much more grown than she had last seen it. It couldn't be anyone else but her, though…

"Mai," she spoke, swallowing hard. No, she wasn't ready to confront her former friend, she truly wasn't, but if it came to it…

Mai seemed to snarl and rush towards them: that was Azula's first sign that something was different. Aang and Katara geared up to defend themselves, but Azula stretched her arm before them, stopping her new friends from attacking the old, who merely raced through streets, silently asking her to follow. And so Azula did, leading her three companions while ignoring and disregarding the soldiers shouting after them – as well as Mai's mother, who appeared to be aghast that her daughter had rushed off somewhere, straight towards the action.

After much running through maze-like streets, they reached a small, empty hut that stank of stale fish, a smell Azula found most distressing, but it seemed that very stench would serve to ward off the soldiers, as per Mai's logic. She ushered them inside and then they waited: the troops rushed past, searching further down the streets, assuming no one would be hiding within the old market's fishing storage room.

"My parents shut this place down about a week ago," Mai explained. "I knew it'd be empty. I try not to pay attention to their boring business, but…"

"Why would they even shut anything down?" Azula asked, aghast. "Mai, what are you doing here?"

"So… she really is your friend?" Sokka asked, with an awkward smile. "Not that I doubted you, Azula, but maybe a little heads-up would've been nice."

"I didn't think we'd have time to introduce you all when escaping from rabid soldiers, mind you," Azula sighed, shaking her head. Mai raised her eyebrows.

"Huh. You found yourself a boyfriend, then?" she asked. Both Sokka and Azula flinched and blushed, grateful that the darkness of the room wouldn't allow anyone to pick up on their reactions all that easily.

"He's…! W-well…" Azula mumbled. Sokka pouted.

"Not really like we've discussed what terms we want to use, so, uh, I mean…"

"Yes. He is her boyfriend," Katara said, with a blunt smile. "And I'm his sister. And this is…"

"Their friend," Azula cut off, once Aang's introduction came next. "Just as she is Mai, my old friend from school."

"I'm surprised you've made so many new friends, actually. You were never much good at that," Mai said, bluntly. "But it's a good thing, I guess, so… congratulations. Invite me to the wedding."

"We're a little too young to get married, right?" Sokka said, with a small voice. "But, well, if you wait for a few years, surely…"

"Surely?" Azula asked, startled.

"W-well, I mean, once I convince you I'm worth marrying, right?"

To Azula's surprise, Mai snorted. She couldn't remember when was the last time she ever heard her friend laugh – maybe she never had, actually. She turned a confused stare towards Mai, who shook her head sadly.

"Must be fun, huh? Not having everyone choosing your life for you," she said. "Not that I complain too much about my lot, I could be worse off, but… I'm not in Omashu because I want to be, for starters. The armies took the city a few months ago. My father was offered the position of governor, and he accepted it without a second thought. We've been here for a week and I already want to die if it means release from this drab place…"

"My mother…" Azula said. Mai tensed up immediately. "This was all her doing, obviously. Do you know anything else about her plans? Anything…?"

"What are you trying to do?" Mai asked, eyeing Azula with unexpected compassion. "You're not… trying to rebel against her, are you? It hasn't gone well for those who've tried…"

"I'm not stupid enough to be scared just because of that," Azula hissed. "Surely there's still enough dissenters…"

"Less and less every day," Mai said. Azula's heart sank. "She… gets rid of them. One by one, without leaving a trace. The Fire Nation… it's terrorized by its leader, I guess."

"And Zuko is fine with that? He doesn't do anything to…?" Azula said. Mai's eyes dropped to the ground at those questions.

"Zuko… has changed. Not to the point where he isn't himself anymore, but…" Mai said, grimacing. "He's not the boy who'd save me from burning apples anymore. Without you, without your father, he's different. Your mother's doing, I guess…"

"So… what, you don't care about him anymore?" Azula asked. If Zuko had changed so much that even Mai, who had loved him since childhood, couldn't endure it anymore… just what kind of madness was taking place in the Fire Nation?

"I didn't say that. I know his true self, his better sides, are still somewhere deep inside him," Mai said, closing her eyes. "But all this power, all your mother's teachings… they've done him a lot of harm. He's become… arrogant. He gets away with anything he wants to do. He can even hurt servants in fits of rage, if he feels like it, and… and no one cares. The servants vanish after. I… I've been with him, for all these years since you were banished. Technically, this assignment of my father's is meant to cement my eventual marriage to him, but… I can't be as excited about it as I was when I didn't know what I was signing up for."

"Then… it's my mother's influence. That's all there is to it," said Azula, looking at Mai pleadingly. "Join us. Help us release the king, and come with us. You can help us fight my mother, get Zuko back to who he…"

Mai shook her head slowly, and Azula's heart sank.

"If you want the king, I'll give him to you. But I… I can't fight against him, Azula. I may not be happy with who he is anymore, but… I love your brother. I think I always will."

"What…? No! You can't…! Mai, if you love him, that's all the more reason to fight!" Azula exclaimed, exasperated. "You should want to bring him back to who he was when you fell in love with him, you should…!"

"I'm not gullible enough to believe that's possible," Mai said, startling Azula. "It would be grand, if he chose to turn back into who he was before, but… I won't hold my breath. Innocence can't be regained when lost. I fear as much, at least."

Azula gritted her teeth, tightening her fists so much her nails dug into her palms painfully. So that was it? That was her choice? It was outrageous… unbelievable. It made no sense to Azula, and yet the reality of the situation dawned on her further: her mother had damaged the Fire Nation on every possible level she could have. She had corrupted her brother's once-pure soul, and turned him into someone even Mai couldn't love as wholeheartedly as she once had. She had done away with every smidge of resistance until there was nothing left… and now she was taking over every remaining city in the Earth Kingdom, no doubt intending to conquer every city left in the large continent, perhaps to gift the whole world to her puppet son once he reached his seventeenth birthday.

Those thoughts were tormenting her when Mai led them all the way to the statue being erected at the top of Omashu's tallest pyramid: Azula scowled upon recognizing it was made in her mother's image. How she wished to be an earthbender and tear the damn thing to pieces…

But where the king, suspended in a strange coffin, should have rejoiced over the opportunity to leave the city without a hassle, he instead refused to do so, surprising the previously thrilled Aang, who stared at him in chagrin at those words. The king made up some strange excuses about neutral jing, doing nothing, as an option in fighting, and claimed his moment to reclaim his city would arrive in due time. In the end, their venture into the second largest city of the continent was but a waste of time, and a rather depressing one at that. Mai led them to the sewers again, and Azula glanced at her as she walked away, knowing her friend meant her no harm with her decision… but knowing, too, that there was no way she'd change her mind. Zuko was Mai's priority… no matter what kind of man he might have become.

"We should simply teach him firebending! What's the point of sticking to the damn cycle of elements anyway? The idea is for the Avatar to learn it all! He's had two perfectly capable firebenders to teach him for months and we haven't taught him a single thing because you won't allow it!"

"The cycle is what it is for good reason, Azula. An airbending Avatar needs to learn how to ground himself before he can firebend, lest he will lose control of his fire in virtue of how volatile the element and his bending in general will be. The same is true for everything else! A firebending Avatar learns waterbending to temper his flames before the air stokes them out of control…!"

"And it's always the fire that's the problem. Funny philosophies you have, Uncle."

"My philosophies are the product of study and tradition. This is done this way for good reason, Azula: the Avatar is a delicate entity, and any mistakes in his upbringing could result in a catastrophe!"

"Then what the hell are we going to do, huh? Please, enlighten me!" Azula exclaimed, rising to her feet as she glared at her Uncle. Sokka grimaced, sitting beside her by the fire as they'd been. "Are we going to stay put because we can't convince one damn earthbender out of thousands to teach the Avatar? Do we let my mother get away with everything she's done so far? I thought we had an agreement…!"

"And we still do," Iroh said, sternly. "But we both agreed to be lenient with each other, flexible, until everything was resolved. And you aren't being that right now…"

"Neither are you, Mr. Tradition and Study," Azula scowled, shaking her head and storming off without another word.

Aang and Katara shrank awkwardly by the fire as Iroh sighed. Sokka, of course, grimaced and stood up.

"I'll go after her," he said. "Though… I do think I agree with her. Not just about the bending, but… what are we going to do if we can't release the king? You were betting on these alliances to be strong enough to defeat the Fire Lady… but is anything that powerful?"

"I… don't know," Iroh admitted, quietly.

Sokka sighed and walked away, following the trail Azula had left through. She sat by the edge of the mountain they were camping at, glaring at Omashu in the distance, when he took his seat beside her again.

"Want to make out?" Azula blurted out, suddenly. Sokka nearly fell off the mountain altogether at the sudden question. "Can't say I'm in the mood… but it might help me feel better."

"Well… maybe after we talk?" Sokka said, with an awkward smile. Azula sighed and buried her face in her knees. Sokka reached out, caressing her head. "Azula…"

"I get it now. I… I understand how you must feel about me," she said. Sokka froze, unsure of what she would mean by that. Was she trying to end things between them, somehow…? Oh, he sure hoped she wasn't… "I've kept rambling on and on about my revenge quest… but I've never said I'm against anything the Fire Nation did in the war, have I?"

"Uh… yeah. I guess you haven't," Sokka admitted.

"It's because I wasn't," Azula said. Sokka frowned, his fingers slipping down from the top of her head to the nape of her neck. "I saw nothing wrong… with everything that we'd done. Because I wasn't raised to see it, so I didn't care to. Even when we met… I just wanted to end the war at all costs because I thought it'd be the worst blow against my mother. But now… if I'm feeling so lost, so angry over Omashu being hers, the people there must feel a thousand times worse. As must have everyone else, all across the Earth Kingdom, and the old Air Nomad bastions… though those aren't even alive to resent the Fire Lords for it. And yet it took this much for me to see it."

"At least you see it now," Sokka said, biting his lip.

"But I also see why you couldn't trust me. It's why I never encouraged you to trust me, too," Azula mumbled. "I'm like Mai, aren't I? It doesn't matter if I know the Fire Nation is wrong, or breaking balance, I… I just want to fight for it. I want to do what's right by it. Even… if it doesn't deserve that."

"Heh… I don't know if the whole nation deserves your hard work or not," Sokka said, lowering his hand to clasp hers. "But you're not like her. You're taking action, right? You want to fight back. She's given up, but you never did."

"I'm not fighting the right battle, though, am I?" Azula said, glancing at him. "It doesn't end just with dethroning her. Not if she's corrupting Zuko as Mai says she did. Whatever my uncle may say or think about him, my brother… he has an awful temper. He's hot-headed and impulsive, and there's no way mother's death or forceful removal would ever sit well with him. He needs to understand what's wrong with the Fire Nation, just as I have, but… he won't. He just… won't."

"Then maybe the Fire Nation needs another Fire Lord," Sokka said, gazing at her meaningfully. Azula frowned before shooting him a wary glance. "Or… is it Fire Lady in this case too? I'm sorry, I don't really know…"

"I… take the throne? Instead of Zuko?" Azula asked. Sokka shrugged.

"If you want to, make it a temporary thing," he said. "Until he's seen enough of the world, if you can trust him to do what's right by his people if he learns better. Or you can just depose him for good, and take the throne yourself to guide the Fire Nation to a better future… I mean, you could, right? You've been friends with us… you've helped us, protected us, given us a chance to fight back, even if for your own reasons. I… I know I shouldn't trust you, right? But… I think I do now. Even if I didn't mean to… I do."

"So, if I let you down, I'll hurt you," Azula concluded, with a grimace. "That's fun…"

"I'm sorry if it's a lot of pressure," Sokka smiled sadly. "But… come on, I wouldn't make out with someone I can't trust."

"Why not? Could be fun," Azula huffed.

"Wait, it 'could' be? Here I thought you'd say you're doing that with me," Sokka smirked.

To his relief, Azula smiled before leaning in to kiss him softly. Sokka returned the gesture, finishing off by pressing another kiss to the tip of her nose.

"Guess I've ended up trusting you too. Curses, we're a mess," Azula sighed, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her face to his shoulder. "I just… feel at ease with you. I trust that you won't betray me… I trust that I understand you, no matter how different we are. And yet I… I can't trust the Fire Nation. I can't trust anyone there, not my friends, not my family, I… I don't know what to do. I don't know what I'm doing anymore. And I can't say any of this to anyone but you… which is already a miracle. Because I… couldn't tell anyone, before I met you. I spent three years letting my thoughts fester…"

"And now you can share them with me" Sokka said, smiling warmly at her "Look… I don't know if I'll help at all by saying this, but before we met, I hated the Fire Nation. Now, because of you… I can't hate it, not really. What I'm thinking is… you're a product of that mess of a culture, just as everyone else you know is. But you're also proof that not everything in the Fire Nation is doomed, Azula. You're proof great things can come from it… and you're proof they can change their ways, too. If you've learned from all this… if you can't help but empathize with those who've lost their homes, their hope, their very nation… then it means you're the one better suited for breaking the Fire Nation's cycle, the best hope this world has. I know the path ahead wouldn't be easy, but… I'll be here. Even if your mom goes down, and your brother leaves you be, and you get to rule the Fire Nation and bring it back into proper harmony, I'll be right there with you, every step of the way."

"You… you took the marriage thing that seriously, huh?" Azula sakd, with a weak grin. Sokka chuckled and shrugged.

"I like you more and more every day, as it is," he whispered. "I… I guess maybe at this point I even…"

"You even…?" Azula said, her heart racing as she waited for him to finish his sentence. He smiled and bit his lip, almost shyly.

"I even might love you. But, you know, I've never felt like this with a girl, so… it's all new for me and I don't know if it's love yet," he laughed. "I… kind of want it to be, though."

"You… want to love me?" Azula asked. Sokka grinned and nodded. "That's… a strange concept. But… it's somewhat cute, I guess."

"Glad you think so," Sokka chuckled.

Azula smiled as she leaned in to kiss him again. She hadn't said the words back, but this was the second-best follow-up, as far as he could tell. She wasn't quite so forthright with feelings, he had noticed… she had been far more honest tonight than in most their long conversations before he left for his cabin at night on the ship. He felt a little closer to her now, and that was a blissful sensation indeed. She had been troubled before, but now… she seemed hopeful. She had heard him out… and she understood him. Maybe she didn't agree with everything… maybe she didn't want to take the throne for herself in the end. But she smiled anyways after their kiss broke off, and his heart soared because of it.

Iroh seemed relieved when Azula returned in better spirits… and he didn't ignore the bold handholding between the pair of teenagers. He held back a smile, though he remained silent until Azula's voice reached him.

"Our next goal should be gathering support throughout the Earth Kingdom," Azula declared, firmly, as though she hadn't been upset mere moments ago. "I propose we go to the largest cities, especially if you have any contacts in them. We'll find a proper earthbending master for Aang eventually, I'd assume."

"That… yes, sounds reasonable," Iroh said, nodding. "Then… we'll leave Omashu be?"

"We don't have much of a choice, do we?" Azula sighed. "And we still have a war and a Fire Lady to stop. At all costs. If King Bumi is sure he can fix this himself somehow, it's his business, but we can move forward regardless. There's no reason to think the war effort should be over only because Omashu has fallen."

Her renewed determination, after her previous bout of frustration, had soothed Iroh deeply. He smiled again as they made arrangements to continue their journey, and while they wouldn't have it as easy to travel as before, for they'd need to leave their soldiers on the ship if they didn't want to garner unwanted attention in Earth Kingdom settlements, their reinvigorated direction aided the group's mood greatly.

The city of Gaoling was their next goal, and while Iroh took his time to arrange matters to gain the local nobles' favor, the younger members of the group busied themselves with finding an earthbending master for Aang. After a fruitless attempt to have him train in Master Yu's school, they found out about an underground earthbending battling ring… and while Azula enjoyed watching her boyfriend – the word still felt foreign, but she was growing used to it gradually – screaming excitedly to his heart's content over each combat, she enjoyed nothing quite as much as his horror when the champion of these duels stepped into the fray at last, and defeated Sokka's favorite fighter with nothing but a few well-calculated blows.

Aang had been convinced immediately that the small girl was his fated master, but his intervention in the fights, and attempt to challenge her only to request her help, hadn't gone so well. In the end, they wound up returning to the earthbending school in hopes to track down any information about the Blind Bandit, but their best attempts amounted to nothing. In the end, they merely followed Iroh into yet another one of his meetings with local nobles… and curiously, a small girl in the Beifong family looked enough like the Blind Bandit – and even acted like her, whenever her parents weren't watching, by lashing out at Aang when he dared tell her the dress suited her too – that it seemed they had happened to discover her identity all the same: the blind daughter of the richest family in Gaoling, Toph Beifong.

What followed that discovery was a spree of wild madness: Aang and Toph were taken prisoners by Sokka's admired earthbending fighter, and as much as Azula, Katara, Sokka and Iroh rushed to their rescue, Toph ended up defeating all the enemies herself. Even then, her parents seemed unwilling to allow her to leave with them… and it seemed she truly did wish to, despite she had rejected the notion of teaching Aang any earthbending so far, even after he told her he was the Avatar.

Yet, just as they were ready to give up…

"I… think I shall have a chat with the Beifongs, before we go," Iroh told Azula, with a bright grin. Azula blinked blankly.

"Are you sure about that?" she asked. "I thought you'd already said they weren't going to be much help in the war effort…"

"That's still true. But I may be able to resolve another problem, if I play my tiles right," Iroh grinned, patting her shoulder before reentering the Beifong mansion.

"What do you think he'll do?" Sokka asked, clasping Azula's hand in his own. Azula grimaced.

"Knowing him? Charm the Beifongs into letting Toph come with us," she said. Sokka scoffed, and Aang groaned.

"It'll never work…" Aang pouted. "They won't let her."

"It's not very likely," Sokka agreed. Katara sighed in defeat as well.

"We'll have to find someone else to…"

"Hey, guys! I'm coming with you!"

Toph voice broke through the conversation: they all turned around in utter disbelief to find the earthbender's parents were crying, hugging Iroh, talking about entrusting their daughter's safety to him. Toph was still wearing her fancy regal clothes, but she had put together a quick bag anyway, and she rushed towards them and Appa with the brightest grin on her face.

"Told you," Azula smiled dryly, as Sokka laughed and shook his head.

"He'd charm a starving man out of his last breadcrumbs, looks lik,e" Sokka said. "That's one less problem, right? We have our earthbender! And now…"

"Now… Ba Sing Se," Azula said, glancing at him with determination: that next goal would be pivotal, crucial, in ending the war to their favor.

They traveled by bison at first, intending to catch up with their ship again halfway through the ocean. Whenever they stopped for a short break, Aang and Toph would work on their earthbending training, or Aang and Katara would work on their waterbending instead. In the meantime, Iroh continued to craft his plans for the next stages of their rebellion… and Azula and Sokka either helped him or hid away for a while for further privacy, returning to the group half an hour later, holding hands and smiling rather carelessly. And while Azula had no intentions of chatting with her uncle about her growing relationship with the Water Tribesman, she certainly had noticed he seemed more likely to smile at her these days, watching over her as, perhaps, a doting father might… not that she thought her own father would ever have approved of this relationship, though. It was, perhaps, an advantage that it was Iroh with her right now, while she explored this rather new walk of life with Sokka.

Toph wasn't particularly thrilled to be stuck on a metal ship once they reached their favored means of transportation, and often demanded she and Aang took off on Appa so they could get some training done in the outskirts of the eastern Earth Kingdom. The pair had only returned from one such journey when one of the soldiers informed Iroh that Ba Sing Se's wall was within view.

"Very well… very well," Iroh nibbled on the tip of his thumb, as his niece stood beside him, arms crossed.

"How will we get in?" she asked. "I doubt we'll find a sewer to sneak through this time… and I also doubt I'll bump into any of my friends here to give us a hand. Do you have any contacts in the city?"

"Regrettably… none I've been able to reach," said Iroh. "But it makes no matter! We shall find a way through, Azula. I have a few ideas on how to do it: we can go incognito! Pretend to be travelers, innocent ones, completely harmless…"

"And how will innocent travelers ever earn an audience with the Earth King?" Sokka asked, blinking blankly: as ever, he stood beside Azula, a hand on her waist.

"Oh, you needn't worry, young man!" Iroh declared, proudly, rubbing his hands together. "I'll see to it myself. You'll be surprised just how far a careful set of words can bring you, if you speak them to the right person!"

"Huh…?" said Sokka, though he smiled at Azula. "Guess he might pull off the same thing he did in Gaoling, right?"

"Maybe. Is that what you intend?" Azula asked Iroh. He chuckled and shrugged.

"Just wait patiently, Princess Azula," he said, determined and enthusiastic. "I shall not lead any of you astray!"

"Well… that sure didn't go as planned, eh?" Iroh smiled awkwardly, at the four sets of glaring eyes that bore into him… and the scowling, sightless eyes that weren't aimed in his direction, but might as well have been.

Being stuck in a narrow space with Sokka's arms around her body wouldn't have displeased Azula under any other circumstances… but a prison cell could easily kill any romantic mood she might have felt, and she certainly had felt none from the moment they had been captured and dragged into Ba Sing Se as prisoners rather than honored guests, regardless of Iroh's many promises.

Their attempt to enter the city through the passports Iroh had procured for them – with the help of some mysterious associate he had met while they traveled with Appa near the Misty Palms Oasis – had been an absolute failure. While he had certainly charmed the woman at the counter, he had failed catastrophically at talking them out of a Dai Li inspection right afterwards. Even though all of them were clad in Earth Kingdom clothes, and Aang's every arrow was perfectly covered with a large hat and a tall collar, something about them had pissed off the earthbenders so much that they found themselves imprisoned in the Earth King's underground prisons now, and with very few hopes of escape, as far as they could tell.

"Ugh, just be quiet. I can try to get us out of here if I just… make a good key," Toph grumbled, using some of the earth of the ground to craft a useful method to either open or outright break the lock.

"We shouldn't even be here in the first place," Azula hissed, regardless of Sokka's soothing caresses to her hair. "What did you say to those bastards? It felt like they just decided to lock us up because they were annoyed by your rambling."

"Maybe. I am good at charming with words… not so good without them," Iroh admitted, stroking his beard.

"But it is excessive, isn't it?" Sokka reasoned. "I mean… unless they figured out who we are? Or at least, who you guys are? I'd think no one knows about Aang yet, right? Even in Omashu he didn't do anything too damning, did he?"

"No, and I deliberately held off from telling Mai who he was," Azula said. "While she's not a bad person, as far as I know, any information she gained on us could be used to destroy us. So… no, I didn't tell her. And in that darkness, I'm not sure if anyone could've noticed it if he was airbending."

"Then maybe they know who you and Iroh are," Katara mused, biting her lip. "Do you think that's possible?"

"Well… yes," Azula conceded.

"We're not very popular at the moment," Iroh admitted, closing his eyes.

"But would the Earth Kingdom know that?" Katara asked.

"They certainly know me as the man who tried to overtake their city, so… I can't say it's too surprising if they want me dead," Iroh admitted. "They may have simply seized us all just because they recognized me, despite the passports."

"And I guess maybe they could've captured Iroh to use him as a hostage to negotiate with the Fire Nation?" Sokka asked. "Just a thought…"

"Might just be the truth, actually," Azula mumbled, frowning.

That gloomy, discouraging possibility was followed up by a surprising sound: metal, screeching in a rather unexpected, unnatural manner.

"Toph?" Sokka called the youngest member of the group. She stood by the door and turned with a rather devious smirk.

"I, uh… think I discovered something," she said.

"Did you… y-you just broke through the metal door?!" Aang gasped, upon glimpsing that Toph's hand was past the door, through a small hole she had dug into it somehow. She couldn't have looked prouder.

"Guess… I'm a metalbender," she announced, grinning.

They were racing down the Palace basement's corridors moments afterwards, speeding up as fast as they could, hoping to find a hiding place, anywhere safe where they might be able to cheat the Dai Li, and either get out of the city or contact the king directly, and inform him of their situation. Aang spotted a staircase that led to the upper floors, and they all rushed towards it in a hurry…

"Wait. I sense people!" Toph exclaimed, grimacing before pulling out a chunk of the wall to use as a weapon against whoever stood outside the prison block's doors.

The others merely stepped out of the way while the earthbender heaved the massive projectile and tossed it, busting the door off its hinges, startling the soldiers in red and in green right outside the…

Red?

Azula's eyes widened when she identified those helmets, those dark uniforms, highlighted in crimson. But most of all, everyone gasped when an onslaught of fire scorched Toph's projectile and blasted it out of the way…

Azula's heart sank. It sank deeper and deeper as soon as she saw those crimson robes fully: Imperial Firebenders. That could only mean…

"Oh, dear. I suppose you've made rather uncivilized friends who cannot seem to greet others in an acceptable manner, haven't you? I expected something classier from you, Azula."

Her heart couldn't seem to settle between racing or stopping when her golden eyes found the honeyed-poison ones of the woman who had just spoken her name with derision. The woman who stood behind the Imperial Firebenders who had just stepped out of the way… revealing her, as well as a young man who stood beside her, proud and strong in his gold-lined armor, his chin held high despite his eyes betrayed a joviality and innocence that didn't befit a Crown Prince.

A joviality and innocence completely absent in the eyes of the woman he followed most obediently.

Azula felt Sokka tensing up beside her. She could tell Aang was nervous, that even Toph was doubting, that Katara was frantically looking for a way out, despite they were surrounded by hostile soldiers of two nations that should have only been enemies… that Iroh was as furious as she was, and for once, failing to conceal it properly.

This was why they had been imprisoned. This was why their plans were failing: she had made her move. And whatever her plans were now, she intended to take Ba Sing Se for herself. Perhaps she already had.

"Well?" said the elegant woman, raising her eyebrows skeptically. "Did they infect you with that uncivilized behavior, by any chance? Glaring at me in such a manner is most unbefitting, Azula…"

"How… how dare you…?" Azula hissed, her furious eyes gleaming. "Why are you…?! How are you even here?!"

The woman smiled, and Azula's tightened fists seemed poised to shatter with all her charged fury. Once she had pretended to be gentle, kind, a perfect mother with no ill intentions… she had long put aside such pretenses, and now stood before her with no masks, whatsoever.

"Answer me…" Azula snarled, glaring so fiercely it seemed she intended to set the woman on fire through willpower alone: "What are you doing here, Mother?!"

The soldiers had dragged most the group back to the prison cells. They had been locked in another one, this time with guards poised watching them, ensuring that even if they managed another miraculous escape that defied sense and reality, they wouldn't be able to make it very far without alerting the whole Palace that they were running. It seemed, to Azula's utter chagrin, that their first escape attempt had been a failure by mere chance: had Toph released them merely ten minutes earlier, they might have been able to get away.

"It was rather amusing, I must say. I had intended to visit you and your uncle, of course," Ursa was reciting, as she paced inside a Palace sitting room, a cup of steaming tea in her hand. She had poured another one, but Azula, the only other occupant in the room, by Ursa's express request, refused to touch it, no matter how parched she was. "But you two merely rushed me and my procession just when we were handling the security details regarding how to head down into that dark prison block as safely as possible! Amusing, truly…"

"You still haven't answered me," the exiled Princess said, her head hung, her arms chained behind her back, shackled just as her feet were, held down on the heavy table. She had managed to sit down… but that was as far as her movements would get her, apparently. "Why… why are you here? How? The Earth Kingdom and the Fire Nation have been at war for…"

"For a hundred years, even longer if you're to take into account how poorly the Earth Kingdom responded to Fire Lord Sozin's first colonies, yes," Ursa said, carelessly, taking her seat at the other side of the table. She was the picture of regal luxury, clad in beautiful robes, sporting as many jewels and royal artifacts as she dared wear… whereas Azula was in an incognito outfit, filthy from her time in jail, her hair in disarray. And where Azula sat on the floor, without even a cushion, her mother relaxed in a smooth lounge, reclining sideways into perfect comfort. "Isn't it a rather drab business, the war? I've had to continue it, of course, the nation would've stood for nothing else, but… oh, there just had to be more effective ways to resolve all this, don't you believe?"

"Effective?" Azula repeated, breathing heavily. "Like what? Are you… y-you're trying to enter an alliance with the Earth King?"

"Trying? Do you really think I'd be here if I hadn't succeeded?" Ursa smirked. Azula's aghast expression only amused her mother further. "It wasn't quite so difficult, mind you: just a little persuasion goes a long way with unseasoned kings who don't know any better. King Kuei isn't even aware there's a war… his fool of an advisor never told him as much. Once I arrived for a diplomatic visit, how could they have refused me?"

"He didn't tell him…? The Earth King didn't know there was a war?" Azula asked. "That's absurd! How could they shelter him to a point where…?"

"Isn't it utterly embarrassing, really?" Ursa said, smiling and shaking her head. "I almost felt sorry for the poor thing. He's infatuated with me too, you see… perfectly useful for my purposes, of course. If I give him enough reason to believe he'll ever be able to craft a permanent alliance between our nations, he'll wind up signing his whole continent to me without his awareness…"

"And that's when you'll strike," Azula hissed, resisting the urge to spit at her mother right then and there. "Guess that's what you stoop to nowadays, huh? Seducing men to get your way?"

"Oh, don't be so dramatic. It's hardly my fault men are quite so foolish and gullible," Ursa said, raising her eyebrows dismissively as she took to checking her makeup. Azula snarled.

"That's surely what you thought of my father too, isn't it? Foolish and gullible… and then you killed him. You killed him, just as you killed my grandfather, all for Zuko's sake…!"

"Honestly, child," Ursa said, rolling her eyes before glancing at her skeptically. "Do you truly believe your incompetent father could've run this nation and finished this war with anything short of Sozin's Comet's second coming? Even then, he surely would have failed. He filled his mind with absolute delusions about how that throne belonged to him… as though he'd ever be capable of ruling without sending the whole nation into chaos and disaster. Am I questioned over my rise into power? No doubt: is the Fire Nation thriving, more than it ever did before? Of course it is. And neither your father nor your thrice-accursed grandfather could've achieved that. The Fire Nation's better than it ever was, and it's all because of me."

"I have a hard time believing that," Azula hissed. Ursa let out a soft chuckle and she shook her head.

"No doubt. You were your father's beloved golden daughter, weren't you?" Ursa said. "I suppose you would feel rather differently if he had been Fire Lord for longer than a week. And what a tragedy that was…"

"Tragedy? Tragedy?!" Azula snarled. "You and I both know you were behind that! You were! Quit playing pretense and admit it, if not to the world, to me! You've lied to my face for years, and then got rid of me because you knew I'd discover the truth! Now you've trapped me because you know I'm a threat! If you'll just lock me away somewhere, the least you can do for your daughter is admit your blasted crimes!"

"Lock you away? Oh, dear, again with the histrionics…" Ursa sighed, standing up and making her way to a nearby armoire. Azula glared at her mother fierce, wrestling with her chains, wishing she could move beyond being chained to the damn table. "What makes you think I'd want to keep you imprisoned, Azula, really?"

Azula huffed, breathing heavily as the reality and weight of those words sank inside her very soul. No, her mother didn't traditionally take prisoners. What she did was…

Her eyes widened just as Ursa turned around, a small vial of translucent liquid in her hands.

"Calm down, Sokka… you won't help her just by fretting in here," Katara told her brother, but Sokka refused to listen to reason.

"We have to get out. We have to. Toph, please…"

"There's a lot of soldiers out there," Toph said, biting her lip. "If we wait for a change of shift…"

"That could be too late!" Sokka exclaimed. "Azula is alone with her murderous mother! There's no way she'll be fine there, damn it! We have to…!"

"Shh," Toph said, suddenly. "Someone's coming."

Sokka fell silent begrudgingly, his heart racing and aching on equal amounts. No, no, no, he couldn't lose Azula, he simply couldn't lose her… he felt as though he were falling off Appa, with an unbearable vertigo, as though the whole world would shatter if he couldn't reach her on time…

The footsteps Toph had heard were audible eventually, and they stopped at their cell. The voice that accompanied them was only familiar for one member of their group, once they heard it:

"Leave me. I'll speak to my Uncle alone."

Wait… soldiers, dismissed? Sokka's eyes gleamed. It was their chance…!

Iroh shot him a warning glare, and Sokka's soaring heart sank all over again. Iroh turned towards the door, waiting for the young man outside to stop breathing heavily and to speak, outright.

"I… I'm sorry you're imprisoned, Uncle," said none other than Azula's brother, of course: Zuko. "I didn't want you to be, but Mother… she thinks you're dangerous. I've told her you're not, that you'd never hurt me, but she's sure you can't be trusted. I'm sorry she sent you away with Azula, you two never got along… it must have sucked. But hey, I'll try to convince Mother to let you stay with us! I'll be Fire Lord this year, so if you're patient I can revoke your exile sooner than you thought! You'll be able to come back home, Uncle… and I know things between you and Mother are messy, but I'll help you fix it. I will. I just… I miss you."

Sokka's harsh glare warned Iroh not to do anything foolish either. Iroh held his gaze for a moment, nodding weakly before speaking through the door.

"I missed you too, my nephew," he said, smiling heartily, offering his words yet another coating of warmth and kindness. "It wasn't easy, no… but while I didn't expect to reunite with you while I'm imprisoned, I sure rejoiced in it all the same. You've grown into a very handsome young man! Surely all the ladies in the city want to marry you…"

"Oh, haha, well, yeah…" Zuko laughed outside. Iroh grinned.

"I trust you, my nephew. I know your heart is in the right place. I'll wait until you can help me, but… is it okay if I make one request right now?"

"Sure! Anything you want, Uncle!"

"I would very much like to see your face properly… and give you a big hug."

Sokka blinked blankly. Katara and Aang stared at Iroh in confused chagrin while Toph's jaw dropped. No way. That was so obvious, it was even worse than ANYTHING he'd said to the Dai Li earlier…

"Oh… I'd need the keys for that. Give me a second! Guards!"

Iroh smirked, and Toph had to cover her mouth to avoid chortling. Sokka bit his lip, his heart racing at haste yet again…

The lock slid open. The door swung outwards. The regal Fire Prince, soon to be Fire Lord, stood right outside, smiling warmly at his uncle…

Iroh sighed and spread his arms, and Zuko knelt before hugging him. Iroh rocked him gently in his arms, and Zuko chuckled, no doubt elated that his perfect life would only improve from now on…

And then his whole body seemed to go numb right after Iroh's hand pinched him right at the nape of his neck.

"W-wha…?" he said, his voice trembling: even speaking seemed near impossible to him now. What on earth…?

"I'm sorry, Zuko. But I won't abandon your sister."

Sokka didn't wait for another moment before rushing the guards right outside: Toph helped him by slamming some into a wall while he attacked two with powerful bare fists, and Aang joined in by using his own earthbending to fight back. Katara smiled wildly as she leapt over Iroh and Zuko: the old general was pulling his nephew inside the prison cell, and he laid him there just after all the nearby guards were defeated: the betrayal in Zuko's eyes was heartbreaking.

"I'm sorry, truly," Iroh said, nodding in his direction before closing the door, locking it firmly.

"For a second there I thought…" Sokka told Iroh, breathing heavily. Iroh scoffed.

"You think I'd ever join my sister-in-law? After everything she's done?" Iroh said. "No matter how honeyed Zuko's words may be… I won't abandon Azula. You're not the only one who's loyal to her, you hear me?"

Sokka smiled and nodded, just as Katara returned to him, strapping her waterbending pouches to her body while handing Sokka his weapons.

"We need to find Azula," Sokka said, firmly. "Toph! Help us track her down!"

"Aye-aye, captain!"

They didn't waste time rushing to the stairs: Toph and Aang tore open the ceiling and they raised their group to the next floor with earthbending. There was no point in stealth anymore, not when they knew this was an enemy best fought through unpredictability… Sokka breathed deeply, leaping off the earthbending pillar once they reached solid ground – albeit now torn with a huge hole –, while Toph and Aang slammed their bare feet into the ground, searching the Palace's upper floors with seismic sense until they located Azula…

"You'll get your answer, I said… once you drink this. Simple, right?" Ursa smirked, stepping towards her daughter: Azula pulled away violently, keeping her lips tightly shut as her mother knelt beside her. "And here I thought you wanted to know the truth. Don't you want to anymore, Azula? That's just so confusing and contradictory…"

Azula would've snarled, would've protested, if she had thought her mother wouldn't empty the vial's contents in her mouth as soon as she dared separate her lips. Curse everything… curse it all. That was how she'd done it, then. Poison… a suitable weapon for one who didn't dirty her hands willingly. She was ever the picture of perfection… and now she intended to destroy her, just as she had destroyed her father. How many people had she killed this way? How many had suspected her, known she was up to no good, and she had simply offed them right then and there? Azula couldn't even venture a guess. Her whole body screamed rejection, and she tugged at her chains in a hopeless attempt to release herself from the shackles…

But Ursa only smirked where she knelt, cockily raising her eyebrows defiantly, waiting for Azula to make a mistake. Hoping to goad her into making them, even.

"It's supposed to be tasteless. You surely won't feel a thing," she said. "Your father was quite calm when he drank it mixed with a cup of rice wine that night, if I recall right. Oh, no… it was lychee wine, wasn't it?"

Azula gasped: Ursa made her move: Azula screamed as her mother held her jaw forcefully, preventing Azula from slamming her mouth shut as she had intended to… and pouring the contents of the vial right into her mouth.

"That being said… I could've mixed it with your tea, if you preferred that. Would it have been better, perhaps? You might have enjoyed it better, right, Azula?" Ursa smirked: now she held the exiled Princess's jaw closed, doing her very best to prevent her from spitting out the liquid.

Azula's face was contorted with outrage, disgust and fear. She was going to die, she was actually going to die… and her mother had admitted the truth. She had admitted this was how she'd killed so many people, so many times…

"How I've longed for this moment…" Ursa said, holding her daughter down still, in a more violent display of strength than any Azula had seen from her until that day. "How I've wanted to get rid of your meddling, you spoiled brat. You won't take your brother's throne for yourself the way your damn father did with your uncle. Oh, yes, your uncle deserved it, but Zuko… he's the one true Fire Lord. And you… you were never meant to be born. You were an unwanted accident, one I'll put an end to, right now…!"

The floor underneath the table collapsed suddenly, loudly: Ursa gasped, her control on the situation shattering for long enough to release Azula… and for Azula to spit the entire content of the vial in her mother's face, to Ursa's horror.

She'd still need to rinse off, she had to do it as soon as possible, that damn thing had to be potent if Ursa believed such a small amount would suffice for murder… one quick glance nearly made her cry of joy rather than despair: tears did burn in her eyes after Ursa had damn near killed her, but they gained a new meaning now as Sokka jumped out of the hole in the ground towards her, concern clear in his face.

"Azula! Azula, I'm here, we're here…!"

"What have you done to her?!" Iroh bellowed, rushing towards Ursa and clasping her by the neck of her long dress. "Answer me!"

"P-poison…" Azula coughed, trying to spit out the remnants of the thing: Katara knelt before her, offering her some of her bending water to rinse her mouth fully, perhaps too invasively, but Azula didn't care. Not if it meant she'd survive… and she truly expected she would be, with Katara's help, while Sokka held her closely.

"To think I complained about my family being boring," Toph growled, holding a boulder at the ready to attack the Fire Lady.

"How could you do this to your own daughter?!" Aang asked, aghast. "You… you're not worthy of leading the Fire Nation! What you've done here today will be known…!"

"Ha! What's a child like you going to do anyways? I have soldiers, an army…!" Ursa shouted.

"And I'm the Avatar!" Aang shouted: yet it wasn't his voice alone: a sudden flash of light startled all of them, for his eyes had gained an unexpected white gleam, as well as the arrows in his body. Ursa's jaw dropped, and she trembled in Iroh's grip, even once the brightness faded, and the young boy no longer channeled a strange energy through his body. "I won't allow you to continue destroying this world's balance, or your own family, as you have! This war is over, and you're…!"

He fell silent when Azula rose to her feet, near stumbling as her blood rushed vertiginously through her veins. Iroh gazed at her with concern, as did Sokka, who held her gently…

"Toph. Can you… get rid of these chains?"

Toph did as she was told immediately, setting down her boulder to do so. It was a strange suspense that spread across the room, as Azula waited until each shackle was off… but she held the chains all the same. And she glared at her mother with mad fury across her bloodshot eyes.

"You killed my father," Azula said, firmly. "You poisoned his drink. You poisoned my grandfather just the same. You've killed countless in this manner, and admitted to planning on taking advantage of the Earth King for your schemes…"

"You… have no evidence…!" Ursa said, though her poised elegance was gone now: it was her turn to fear, for all tides had been turned against her: where were her soldiers? The Dai Li she had stolen out of Long Feng's control, after ensuring one of the kitchen cooks poisoned his meal? No one was coming to the rescue, but someone had to, someone would… "W-where's Zuko? What have you done to my son?!"

"He's safe and sound. Trust me, he'll never get the same treatment you will," Iroh said, scowling at Ursa.

"Yes. Zuko will live," Azula said, ominously. "She won't."

Her words floored everyone within the room, even the young man who held Azula closely. He gasped, tugging her towards him, but Azula clasped the chains with her now free hands, glaring at Ursa furiously.

"Azula, no!" Sokka exclaimed. "You can't just…!"

"She damn near killed me! She meant to, and she would've killed each of us, one by one, until no one stood against her!" Azula shouted back, trembling violently as she leveled her glare at Ursa. "I won't… I won't let you hurt anyone I love ever again… never again. I will kill you. I will kill you!"

"Azula, stop!" Sokka said, pulling her into an embrace she tried to shake off. Azula snarled, feeling the tears running down her face as she built her resolve: one murder, one more death, and the world would be set right. That was all it took, that was all… "You can break the damn cycle. We talked about this! You can put an end to the misery, to the hatred in the Fire Nation… but not if you continue what your mother already started. Not if you kill her now, just as she killed your father! Your people won't think you're any better than her! They'll assume you don't belong on a throne any more than she does…"

"I don't need a damn throne!" Azula shouted. "I just need…! I just need…!"

"You don't need to kill her. You think you do… but you're a better person than she could ever be," Sokka said, burying his face in her neck.

"Violence and death… that's what the Hundred Year War has been about," Aang said, gazing at Azula sadly. "Maybe… maybe it's not what you want to hear now. But… I think Sokka is right."

"I won't tell you she deserves better than death," Sokka said, gritting his teeth. "What she's done… what she nearly did to you, I want to kill her for that, too! But Azula… if she's dead, the world…"

"The cycle… won't ever break…" Azula whispered, gritting her teeth. "If I kill her…"

"You… you shouldn't kill me, no!" Ursa said, clinging to the sudden possibility of survival that had reared its head when she expected otherwise. "Azula, truly, I only did everything for Zuko! Your grandfather would've killed him, and your father would've done worse…!"

"Shut the hell up!" Azula shouted, glaring at her again. Ursa gritted her teeth, as Iroh scowled at her too.

"No past crimes by your victims will justify what you've done," Iroh said. "You killed my father… and my brother. You nearly killed my niece, too. You've corrupted my nephew's mind while he was none the wiser. And while you won't die today… you shall spend every last day of your life paying for those crimes."

"N-no… no, Iroh, you can't do this to me… I'm the Fire Lady… I'm the Fire Lady!" Ursa shouted. Iroh smirked.

"Not anymore, you're not," he said, curtly.

The meaning of his words wasn't clear, not beyond the obvious: Ursa would be deposed officially, starting today. The bulk of the soldiers who meant to protect her had been defeated effectively by their surprise attacks while they rushed to find Azula: next, they'd visit the Earth King, and explain everything to him thoroughly. And once they were ready, they'd return to the Fire Nation… and Ursa wouldn't see the light of day for the rest of her life.

But who would take her position instead? No one could tell just yet. There was one candidate, locked in a prison, stealthily chi-blocked by his uncle. There was another, cradled in her boyfriend's arms, crying in despair as she relented, accepting that her revenge wasn't what was best for the world, no matter how deserved it might be. And the final candidate, born and raised under the belief that he'd become Fire Lord one day, seemed to believe a new, fresher generation was better than himself for the role.

And as they lingered inside that room, calming down, waiting for the remaining, loyal soldiers to the Earth King to arrive upon being summoned by Toph's shouts out the window, none of them knew what the future would bring… but with Ursa defeated at last, it seemed fitting to believe the war was finally over. It hadn't been the epic bending brawl many expected… but when it came to ending wars, especially the long ones, what mattered most to anyone was that it was finally over, regardless of the manner in which they ended.

A world in peace was a concept that had eluded most their generations. That the Fire Nation would have suddenly withdrawn its troops from the Earth Kingdom, that they had signed treaties of peace with all remaining nations, would have sounded as an impossible, absurd delusion for most people… and yet it was their new reality. A reality that many people cherished deeply, though few cherished it quite as much as the heroes who, in a rather unexpected manner, had defeated the woman who had led the Fire Nation for the last six years.

Zuko, despite all hopes, had taken Iroh's actions as an unbearable betrayal. He would have been granted leniency, but he wanted none of it: he sought to attack his uncle and his sister as soon as he had a chance, demanding for reparations, for justice to be served, for his mother's freedom to be restored… and as much as it had pained Iroh, he had no choice but to restrain Zuko as well. His loyalty to Ursa was unquestioned… but misplaced, just as well. He would be likely to receive second chances in the future… but not until he was ready to listen to the truth. And for now, he certainly was anything but ready for that conversation.

The widespread fear Ursa had subjected her people to became apparent once Azula and Iroh returned home as the new leaders of the Fire Nation: they never expected a hero's welcome, and yet that was what they had received nonetheless. After many debates and thorough conversations with the nobles, the unanimous decision was made: Iroh would take the position of regent for a few years, to guide the transition between Ursa's rule and Azula's future one. The reinstated Princess wouldn't be crowned right away, but the Fire Nation had readily accepted her as their next ruler just the same. Surely occasional opposition would rise, as Ursa's loyalists would still linger somewhere… but fortunately, Azula had more than enough loyalists of her own to back her up.

The most important of them, of course, were currently in the Palace's garden, three of them engrossed in an all-out triple bending battle: Aang laughed as his airbending skills helped him avoid Katara and Toph's attacks, which too often resulted in the two girls striking each other instead. Azula was amused as well as she watched their fight, leisurely relaxing in Sokka's arms as he cuddled her gently.

"Odd… we were supposed to teach him all the elements, but the war ended without him learning any fire," Azula said. Sokka chuckled, kissing her brow.

"The war is over, though. He has plenty of time to learn now," he said. "And he'll have a great teacher, right? Whether you, or Iroh…"

"Eh, I'd be a dreadful teacher…"

"Heh! I'm only a decent warrior now thanks to you, you hear me? I learned a lot from you!"

Azula laughed, nuzzling his neck as she released a deep breath. Sokka smiled, rubbing her back reassuringly: these days, his tense Princess had been much more relaxed than usual. Coming home had done her good, he had no doubts about it… but perhaps it was also the knowledge that she'd helped set the world onto a better course that allowed her to breathe more easily. Her fingers clung to his shirt, clasping it gently, ensuring they'd stay close together for as long as possible… stabilized by the young man who had become her most loyal supporter, and the kindest boyfriend she could have ever hoped to find.

"I know it'll still be a while… and you should make sure to rest and recover from your years on the road while you can," Sokka said, rocking her gently in his arms. "But… I can't wait to see the wonders you'll weave, Fire Lord Azula."

"Wonders?" Azula repeated, smiling weakly. "I doubt that…"

"I don't," Sokka grinned enthusiastically.

"Who'd have thought the most loyal of my subjects wouldn't even be from my nation, huh?" Azula smiled, raising her head towards. him "Somehow… it feels fitting, too."

"We're breaking the cycle," Sokka said. "Marrying a Water Tribe guy? Sounds like just the way to break it for good, as far as I can tell. No old, outdated traditions will ever be followed: time to bring about harmony and peace in the best way possible, right, Azula?"

"By marrying each other? In a few years, that is," Azula said, smiling warmly. "I wouldn't trust anyone else to be my husband anyway."

"And I wouldn't trust anyone else to be my wife," Sokka said, stroking her hair. "It is kind of funny how life turns out, huh? We've come full circle, completely…"

"We have. And I'm definitely proud of it," Azula smiled, raising her head to kiss his lips. "Though… there's one thing left to do, to finish that notion."

"Oh yeah?" Sokka asked, amused.

"I… think I might love you too," Azula said, teasingly. "And even if I don't, I want to."

"Ah… hah," Sokka laughed, pressing his brow to hers. Azula grinned, kissing him again. "You're always so clever… always so clever."

Azula laughed as they exchanged more kisses, deliberately ignoring the loud, rowdy bending battle in the gardens. And from the corner of the nearest corridor, Iroh smiled fondly too, watching his niece from a distance. Theirs had been a strained relationship for a long time… but it certainly wasn't that anymore. Azula had been deeply grateful upon hearing of what he'd done to help save her… how he had set aside Zuko, and privileged her safety instead. By now, their relationship was better than ever… and it would continue to be, Iroh knew, as long as he didn't interfere in her private moments with her beloved Water Tribe warrior.

"I, too, can barely wait to see the wonders you shall weave," Iroh spoke quietly, closing his eyes and turning his back on the Princess.

She would make an excellent Fire Lord, he was sure of that… but for now, he would let her enjoy her time with her closest friends, in a peaceful environment, with no heavy pressures weighing on her shoulders. After all the hardships she had endured, and the pain she had suffered through, he had no doubts she had earned these miraculous moments of peace. Yes, peace, no doubt, was the best word to describe the beautiful scene he had just witnessed at a distance in the palace's garden, and in his earnest opinion, no one deserved such blissful harmony quite as much as Azula did.

A/N:

While I have no doubts I've cemented myself a terrible reputation for all my Ursa portrayals, I do want to set clear that I didn't write this particular entry to villify her, despite that's what it'll look like to some... the truth is, the whole basis of this idea came from the very frequently debated AUs where Azula is the banished one, rather than Zuko. I pondered under which circumstances could Azula EVER wind up banished at a young age, as well as how the blazes she'd ever be banished with Iroh, who'd most likely not join her of his own volition, if his characterization is kept true to his canon self. Then the idea of turning someone else into the bigger bad came to mind, someone both Azula and Iroh would develop personal grudges against, to the point of setting aside their differences to work together.

This is, therefore, just a matter of exploring storytelling possibilities for me - as can be obvious by the fact that this is, by FAR, my most favorable portrayal of Iroh up to date. I usually don't write him this way, just as I usually don't see Ursa as a character remotely as dark as she was in this entry: all was done for the sake of exploring storytelling posibilities and nothing else. One day I might surprise by offering you all a favorable Ursa portrayal, for a change! :'D All this being said, it's fine if you don't enjoy Ursa as I portrayed her here, but I want to set the record straight, it wasn't done for the sake of making her appear a fundamentally worse person than Ozai or anyone else. Basically, this is an Ursa who decided to stop at nothing to keep her son safe. And while that sounds pretty in paper, it can also have a very dark meaning, and that's why things turned out this way.

Hope you enjoyed this story anyway!

[bitchassbucky]

.exe

Word Count: 2.4k

Warning/s: stalkers, bucky being a creepo, reader being a creepo. dark!IT!bucky x dark!reader :-) female & male masturbation, voyeurism (i think), cyber crimes being committed.

A/N: this is my birthday gift to @babyboibucky <3 to my boo, I love you and you have a special place in my heart. this is gonna be a multi-part thing, it's too long to be considered as a one-shot, oops.

please enjoy! :D

follow the CTRL series:

i - .exe

ii - .avi

iii - .raw

iv - .png

v - .zip

CTRL playlist

CTRL moodboard

4:49 PM

Just 11 more minutes until he can pack his bags up for the weekend.

One new ticket - URGENT

Goddamn it.

Bucky pulled his earphones out in annoyance, just another office idiot who doesn’t know how to print A4 sheets. If the office were to be held hostage and printing out was the only thing that can save them, half of the floor would be dead.

The new name caught his eye, Y/N Y/L. A new hire, it seems like.

Subject: One new ticket - URGENT

Hi, this is Y/N, employee number 0008675309. I’m new here and was told to send a ticket for the equipment request.

Thank you and have a great weekend!

Oh, Bucky’s gonna have a great weekend indeed. Out of pure curiosity, he’s already pulled up your employee file. A cute smile to a cute name. His annoyance dispersing already, just by thinking of ways how he can spend time with you.

Hey, Y/N! Bucky types into the text field, Welcome to the company. I’m Bucky and I got assigned to help you get settled. Do you prefer having a desktop or a laptop? I’ve attached a form in this thread, send it to me once you’re done.

Have an awesome weekend too!

As much as he hates sending out chirpy emails, he can’t help but to smile when you immediately send a reply back.

Thanks, Bucky! So sorry for sending in the request super late. Got caught up with the onboarding. Is it okay if I use my laptop until we can get a unit to my place? PC or laptop is fine with me.

Best,

Y/N

Bucky fights off another smile, rubbing his hand over his stubbled cheek as he carefully types out a reply. Unlike other days, he doesn’t mind staying beyond 5 PM today. It’s not like he has other plans for his Friday night.

No worries, Y/N. He’s already loving your name. Happy to help!

Do you have your laptop with you? I can set it up before you go home for the weekend. I can probably send in the ticket to the guys so you can have your work equipment next week.

His deft fingers are dancing over his mechanical keyboard, clacking away while the clock ticks closer to the weekend.

A ping, another reply from you. You’re new, you’re still excited to make friends in the office. If you only knew how stupid they are, though.

Yeah! I have it on me right now. I actually work on the same floor, I can drop it off there right now.

Bucky glances around his office, looking for any reflective surface he can check himself on. He runs his hand through his hair, taming any stubborn locks that fell out of his low bun. His shirt hangs just right against his huge frame, his pants hugging his figure, accentuating his silhouette even more.

Just as the clock ticks 5:00, a soft knock raps against his door, “come in!”

You are cuter, prettier in person. Your perfume hits his nose and he’s floored—metaphorically.

“Mr. Barnes,” you say, your demeanor somewhat meek and shy. Well, of course, you are. Your frame is nothing against the hunk of the man who just stood up to greet you.

“Bucky.” He prompts, smiling. You reciprocated the smile, but you really weren’t sure what to expect. Maybe a scrawny little dude mousing away on a keyboard?

“Bucky, thank you so much for doing this. I know you’d rather get off of work since it’s Friday and all.”

He hums, taking your laptop in his hands. You notice the rings adorning his fingers—complementing his tanned skin tone and—it’s not appropriate to stare at a stranger’s hand.

Heat creeps up your face as he turns to look at the stickers stuck to your laptop, “you know, I like this band.” Bucky says, pointing to an old sticker, he carefully sets down your laptop on his workstation.

“They’re great,” you muse, taking a seat on a plastic chair by the door.

You take a gander around his small office. There was nothing out of the ordinary but the big black server blinking at the back, so why do you feel trapped?

“Sorry about the temp, we have to keep the room cold for the server in the back,” Bucky explains, noticing how your arms are crossed over your chest. The skirt you’re wearing isn’t doing you any better too.

You stammer out an it’s okay with a small smile.

Bucky worked on your computer quietly, using a USB stick to load all the applications you need to set up a temporary work account on your laptop. After a few minutes, he beckoned you to come here. You scoot over to his desk, rolling the chair forward and beside him. Not too close though.

“So, this note has all your generated passwords. Type those into the app when you first log in, then you can change it if you want to.” Bucky explains, the cursor idles on the screen. He tries not to get too close to you, to give you personal space. It’s a professional workplace after all.

“This app,” he drags a window, pulling up an application, “tracks your hours and your keystrokes. It’s company-mandated because managers want to micro-manage their people, I guess.” Bucky shrugs, his disdain showing through his voice. His tone shifting lower than what you’d expected.

“Sorry, I just hate their new protocol,” his face and voice softening as he looks at you, “it’s a total privacy breach if you ask me.”

You’d normally disagree but something tells you that maybe he’s got a point. Your breath hitched in your throat as he leans closer as if to whisper something, “this note right here? It’s a nifty thing, a little script so your computer doesn’t go to sleep when you’re away. It enables and disables your numlock pad so it counts as a keystroke.”

A smirk finds its place on your face, “well, that’s…something, isn’t it?”

Never in your life would you find yourself flirting with a co-worker but there’s something about Bucky that made you excited. Interested. Intrigued.

Bucky nods, rolling his chair away to fetch a pad of sticky notes. “Another thing from your friendly neighborhood IT guy,” he peels off a leaf and sticks it on your laptop’s built-in camera, “keep your cam covered.”

You give him a chuckle and a playful salute, “yes, sir.”

Bucky’s a modern man. He sees a pretty girl and he gets giddy. He talks to a pretty girl and he gets flustered. But you—you make him feel more than giddy and flustered. There was something familiar about you, and your eyes. Has he seen you before? Met you, even? No, that’s impossible—if he had met you before, he’d surely remember you.

It was 5:34 PM when he gave you your laptop back and sent in an urgent request for your equipment. While taking down the elevator to the lobby, Bucky gave you a few tips on how to ‘survive’ working in the office. According to him, as far as you go in on time and kept your head above the rumors, you’d do fine.

He asked about your first week and he told you about this joint near the building that serves the best burgers and fries.

You’ve got a good feeling that you just made your first friend.

—

The sun was already setting down when you pulled into your apartment’s parking lot. At the very last minute, you turned into a drive-through and got some food on the go. The side trip took out 10 minutes of your time but at least you dodged the awful traffic that was building up by the highway.

Along with your laptop bag and your food, you trudge up to your third-floor apartment. It wasn’t what you wanted—the windows faced the street, the screen door doesn’t lock all the way—but it’s the one you got. As long as it’s got four walls and a roof, right?

You slip out of your work clothes and into some comfy jammies after a rewarding shower; the sooner you can get your food heat up, the sooner you can eat, and drink and then go to sleep.

So while waiting for the microwave to beep, you pry open your laptop. You told Bucky not to shut it down after he worked on it as to not lose your work on another profile, which he understood.

The work account he set up greeted you, along with the bright pink sticky note he stuck to your webcam. That wasn’t real, was it? All those cautionary tales of hackers using webcams to peep on you. Maybe he’s just trying to scare you, like some kind of initiation. Without a second thought, you took off the sticky note. It was kinda annoying anyway.

Clicking the Log Out Work button, your personal account popped into the frame. Your opened apps and documents displaying themselves for you to use. You pulled up Spotify and clicked on the first playlist you saw—which happened to be your intimate playlist.

Sure, the Pavlov reaction is real because halfway through the first song, you already found yourself getting all hot and bothered. This one’s your favorite song too.

You groan in annoyance, your food’s no longer a priority.

Picking up the laptop from the table, you walk to your bedroom, not bothering to shut the door. You live alone, it’s fine. You put the laptop on its loudest setting, setting it on your desk and you plopped down on your bed, the pillows and the comforter pooling on one side.

Your room is illuminated by a streak of light from the street. Your curtains flowing softly with the breeze that just came in.

Glancing at your laptop, you remembered Bucky. How his office smelled when you first walked in. How he stood tall when he greeted you. How he smiled. Those goddamn rings of his.

Before you caught yourself thinking rationally, your fingers are already splayed even over your thighs, caressing the soft flesh of your legs.

Bucky’s smirk and his cologne finding purchase in your fogged brain. Thoughts of him pulling you aside into his office to fool around—voices above hushed whispers as your skin erupts in goosebumps, the chilled air of his office finding its way up to your spine.

Oh, fuck it.

You undress fast, flinging your shirt over your head, dropping it somewhere below the bed. The air in your room making your nipples hard and erect as you pinch them. You breathe out a sigh, the heat of the moment creeping up your torso.

The material of your panties dampening as you imagine yourself bent over his desk, your skirt bunched over your hips as he laps your sopping cunt. Bucky’s tongue exploring your folds up and over until your pussy’s a quivering mess of drool and spit.

Your fingers slip past the band of your underwear. Even you surprised yourself by how wet you are.

God, you met him once and he’s already inching his way into your mind.

But who could blame you? You’ve been all over his Facebook profile when you learned his name via the office’s organizational chart. The first time you saw him, walking around the office with a laptop in his hands, you already knew you wanted to at least formally meet him. A scroll on his page, you found a band that you could tolerate listening to. (They’re okay, just not your taste in music.)

A plan came to mind when your department head told the team that you can work from home from time to time—only if you agreed to use a work laptop, a company-owned one. Your manager advised you to put in the request as soon as you can, for you to secure a unit before the on-hand supplies dwindle.

Deliberately sending in the request late—way, way later—than what your manager told you just so you could pull up the ‘new hire’ card and act dumb.

And it looked like he bought it too.

The image of him fucking you quiet while he grabs you from behind played inside your mind like a memory—a vision. Of how his thick cock would fill you up until your pussy is clenching around him. Would he pinch your throbbing clit, making you squirm and cream around him?

Your fingers are compared nothing to his, that’s for sure. But it does the work for now.

A breathy moan comes out of your mouth as you play with your clit, your cunt dripping down wetness as you continue to fondle your tits.

His hands would make a great addition to your chokers.

Your toes curl and your breath quickens, the coil in the pit of your stomach tightening—white-hot heat creeping up your limbs.

Oh, fuck, Bucky!

—

His ears perked up as he heard you moaning his name.

Bucky was busy watching you enjoy yourself when he got caught in the moment and decided to enjoy himself too.

He was barely keeping himself behaved when you first walked into the floor wearing a button-up and slacks that accentuated your backside. Bucky wished he was the one who gave you the tour and know your name for the first time, but that was impossible—he was in the IT department.

So when he got the news that new hires will be given the chance to work from home, he hoped that he gets to be the one to help you set up.

He was losing hope by the time he got your request, he thought that you opt not to work at home but then there you were, sending him an apologetic email on a late Friday afternoon.

Of course, he happily obliged. He even set up himself a little virtual camp in the background of your computer just so he can continue spending time with you.

Just thinking about you is already making him hard again. Bucky already came in hot spurts of white as he watched you desperately undress earlier. What can he say—he was waiting for you to show your tits already. As such, he correctly guessed that you’d be annoyed with the glaringly bright sticky note he used to ‘cover’ your webcam with.

But seeing you fingerfuck yourself all alone just wasn’t enough for him, he has to have you all by yourself.

[thefanficmonster]

What's It To You?

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Summary: To some people, relationship labels aren’t important. To some they aren’t important only in theory. Well, Y/N finds out she falls in the later category, leading to a falling out with her boyfriend Corpse.

Requested by Anon. You’ll know who you are when you read the fic 😉 Thank you for the ‘angsty argument’ request. I hope I captured what you had in mind and I hope you enjoy the read. Love, Vy 🥰

The time is nearing 7PM and Corpse has barely eaten anything. I always keep track of his meals and time spent in front of a computer screen, making sure he doesn’t spend too much time exhausting his eyes or starving himself. He never notices he’s hungry until he takes a bite of something and his appetite grows in  matter of seconds. The real battle is to get him to take that first bite.

I get up from the couch, walking into the kitchen. I open the fridge, scanning its contents for any ideas that might pop into my head for dinner. When nothing comes to mind, I resort to my last option - asking him. There’s only a slight chance he’ll be of any help. He’ll most likely say he’s not hungry or that he’ll make himself something late. He never does. I’ve gotten used to him being a man-child when it comes to eating. In the eleven months that we’ve been dating, I’ve force fed him more times than he has eaten on his own terms.

I go upstairs, stopping outside the door to his recording room to see if he’s talking to someone so I don’t walk in and interrupt. When no noises come from the inside I knock. 

“Come in.“ 

Upon opening the door, I’m met with Corpse nonchalantly sitting in his desk chair, leaning as back as he can without tipping over. Arms folded behind his head, legs stretched out in front of him. The whole nine yards, suggesting that he not streaming.

“Hey.“ He greets me as he turns his chair a bit in an attempt to face me

“Hey, what’d you like for dinner?“ He opens his mouth to reply the millisecond after I have spoken my question. I already know what that reply will be so I hurry to prevent it, “And no, ‘later’ and ‘I’m not hungry’ aren’t on the menu.“

He sighs, shaking his head as though he’s disappointed that I caught onto his game. The smile that slowly makes its way to his lips, however, suggests that he appreciates my concern. “Grilled cheese sandwiches? I mean, if you feel like it.”

I smile, relieved that the usual convincing portion of our interaction on this specific matter has been avoided. “Ok. Be down in fifteen then.” I give him a nod before heading back out into the hallway.

Before I am able to close the door, I hear someone else’s voice come from behind me. “Hey Corpse, was that on your end?”

Oh shit, he wasn’t muted

“Yeah man, sorry. Accidentally unmuted myself.“ Corpse sounds unbothered by this, but I am a little uneasy now.

Corpse and I have agreed to keep our relationship by a ‘won’t ask, won’t tell’ rule - if someone asks him if he’s in a relationship, he won’t lie and say no, but we haven’t gone public nor do we plan on doing so without someone asking us about it head-on. Well, not us. Him. His friends don’t know me and neither do his fans. I’m not in the same industry. I don’t stream nor film YouTube videos. The most I do for that platform is help Corpse with some editing when he needs to have a rest. So, if anyone were to reveal our relationship, it’d be him.

“Oooh, who was that?“ A girl’s voice asks teasingly. “Corpse, what are you not telling us?“

By this point, I’m out in the hall but I left my ears in the room. I know I’m not in the right here - eavesdropping is most definitely not nice, but I can’t help myself.

I hear him chuckle, “Nah, it’s just my friend Y/N.”

My heart drops so suddenly for a reason beyond my understanding. I feel like a kid feels when it’s told Santa isn’t real - I can’t believe what I heard. 

I hurry to get back downstairs as soon as possible and also as quietly as I can. It’s tough, running with a pit in your stomach and a knot of I’m pretty sure is tears in your throat. When I’m finally in the kitchen, the aforementioned tears are blurring my vision. I try to blink them away but accidentally send one of them trickling down my cheek.

I’m aware this might be an overreaction and if I stopped to think I could probably find ways to justify what Corpse said. But I’m genuinely hurt, and I hate that I am.

I’ve never cared about what others know about me or think of me. Same goes for my relationships. I don’t put labels on things nor on my connection to people. I am surprised and disturbed by how much the label ‘friends’ bothers me. We’ve been dating for almost a year now, you’d think calling me his girlfriend would be second nature. Guess not.

I swallow the hurt and surprise, deciding to keep myself busy with the preparations for the dinner I was planning to make. However, keeping my hands full and giving my eyes a place to look doesn’t stop my thoughts from eating away at me. 

                                                             * * *

Twenty minutes later the sound of a door opening echoes from upstairs, followed by the sound of footsteps going through the hallway and then down the stairs. 

“It smells so good in here.“ He comments, his eyebrows raising when he takes in the freshly made sandwiches on the kitchen island. “You’re the best, Y/N.“

“Hmm, aren’t you lucky you have a friend who knows their way around the kitchen, huh?“ I reply sharply, not even sparing him a glance.

In the twenty minutes I was left alone with my wilding thoughts I declared that I wouldn’t beat around bush when he comes downstairs. That I would address the issue and tell him exactly how I feel about it. What I didn’t plan was being so harsh. I actually barely contain a wince when I realize how sharp of an edge my words had.

I feel ten times more guilty when I see the regret that flashes on his face, “You heard that.” He grips the edges of the table, leaning down and letting out a sigh, “I’m sorry, I panicked.”

The anger in me evaporates, leaving room for the hurt to keep spreading and take over me. I was never really angry with him, I’m just upset by the fact that his immediate reaction wasn’t to refer to me as his girlfriend. 

“Why would you panic? What’s it to you if they know?“ My voice is barely above a whisper now, the tears I’m fighting back are clogging my throat, not allowing me to sound as clearly as I’d like.

“What’s it to you? I thought you didn’t care.“ He argues back, his gaze travelling from the tabletop to my eyes. I see the guilt in all his features and his body language.

“I thought so too.“ I shake my head, “But hearing you call me a ‘friend’...’just a friend’ stings. I don’t even know why, but it does. It feels almost like you are embarrassed of me. If that’s the case you can just tell me, you know?“

In a blink of an eye he’s crouched down in front of me, one hand holding both of mine while the other cups my cheek. “It’s not. It has never been and it will never be the case. You are one amazing person, Y/N. You deserve the world, not to be stuck with me. I’m just...” He trails off, his eyes not able to focus on mine any longer, “I’m scared of how people knowing about us will affect our relationship.”

My blood starts boiling again. I know I need to get away from him before I reach the point of saying something that’ll hurt him, so I untangle my hands from his grasp, pulling away from him. “Weak excuse, Corpse. You know it will change nothing except make me feel more included in your life. I will no longer feel like I’m a house rat no one knows about.” I stand up, unable to look at him, and start heading for the staircase. 

“Y/N, please! ”I stop dead in my tracks when he calls out my name, his footsteps following behind me. “Don’t be...-”

I turn around, cutting him off in the process, “I need to be alone right now.” I tilt my head in the direction of the dining table, “Sit down and eat dinner. We’ll talk...later.”

                                                             * * *

Now that it’s been almost twelve hours with no contact between us I realize that my reaction was justified only to a certain extent. I understand his concerns and I could’ve expressed mine a little more calmly and in a lot less accusatory manner. But what happened happened and all I can do now is go over to him and apologize, establish a proper communication to resolve the issue that I so stupidly blew out of proportion.

My phone died sometime during the night and has been sitting on the charger but still turned off for a while. I go over to it and press-hold the start button. While it’s powering up I start changing my from my pajamas into my regular clothes, noticing a small stain on my shirt in the process. As I’m examining the stain, my phone starts going crazy with notifications, causing me to jump and drop my shirt.

“Fucking hell.” I mumble, disconnecting my phone from the charger and looking at the huge list of notifications on my lock screen. They are all alerts of new followers, likes and tags, non from people I know. Non except one.

@ corpse_husband tagged you in a post 

Wait what?

I tap the notification which leads me to a picture Corpse posted two hours ago. It’s a picture of me taken in the living room without my knowledge. I’m an oversized sweater and yoga pants, my hair in a messy braid and my attention caught by the book in my hands. My glasses have slipped a bit down my nose, suggesting that I’m too concentrated on the contents of the pages in front of me that I haven’t noticed.

We started off as friends but it didn’t take long for her to become my best friend. And then she stole my heart. I know you’ll read this eventually, Y/N. So...hi. Love you. 

PS - the sandwiches were bomb 🖤

I’m more than caught off guard. Like a surprise hug from behind, warmth spreading all throughout my body. 

Without a second of hesitation I put my phone down and run to the bedroom door. However, I don’t make it very far considering I nearly run straight into Corpse’s chest as I exit the room. He catches me before I knock him straight to the ground, thankfully.

“Aren’t you a rocket this morning. Where are you headed?“ He chuckles, holding onto my upper arms.

One look at his smile, a single word out of his mouth and I’m melting. I walk straight into him, wrapping my arms around his torso, hiding my face in his chest. He comfortably rests his chin on the top of my head, not asking any further questions until I finally answer.

“Right here. I was heading for you.“ I whisper before I pull away enough to be able to look him in the eyes. “I wanted to tell you how sorry I am. I was being childish and overdramatic and I’m sorry about all I said. I was really upset.“

“It’s ok, baby. I’m sorry for making you upset in the first place. I understand now how much it means to you.“ He caresses my cheekbone with the back of his hand. “I...um...tried to make things right by...“

I push up on my toes, pressing my lips against his, putting an end to his timid stuttering. “I saw it.” I mumble in the kiss.

“Did you like it?“ 

“I loved it.“

“Did you read the comments?“

My heart skips a beat when I hear that dreaded term. Just the thought of reading through the comments terrifies me. I tell myself that some strangers’ words aren’t gonna have an impact on me, but I know they will. Especially since these ‘strangers’ mean so much to Corpse.

I shake my head. He pulls away, taking my hand and leading me towards the living room. “You have to. You’re gonna love them.”

I reluctantly follow him, plopping down on the couch next to him as he pulls out his phone and scrolls through the comment section of the picture he posted. He was right. All these people have said such things about me and about our relationship. Some verified names are also there, sharing their support much like the fans. 

“See, this is why I was nervous. I’ll have to do duels for your attention now.“ He glances at me, leaning in and kissing my temple as he sometimes does so impulsively.

“You don’t do duels when you are already sitting at the throne. Right next to me.“ I once again capture his lips with mine, tempted to never pull away, but also tempted to keep reading the comments.

Damn, he might be right about the duels.

He takes his phone from me setting it aside as he slowly lifts me and settles me in his lap, never letting our lips detach.

Nevermind. Fuck the duels

@susceptible-but-siriusexual  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @hacker-ghost  @itsminniekat  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze

[lunarrwolf]

ᵃⁿⁱᵐᵉ ᵍⁱʳˡˢ ʳᵘⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᵐʸ ˡⁱᶠᵉ

background: y/n is a streamer who’s known for her soft yet chaotic ways and her love of an anime called my hero academia. she has a habit of saying dumb things when she’s up at night, and the result of one from 4am leads to her talking with a faceless persona from youtube. even with songs about cat and e-girls, he just might end up writing one about anime girls along the way.

pronouns: she/they

taglist: @youretheonlyonewhomakesme @callmemaeve-y @letsloveimagines @therosyboy @hydrate-tion @clubfairy @aha-red @liljennyx3 @kusuinko @fanworrior @caelestii-e

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previous 🧂 next

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𝟩: ｆｕｃｋ ｏｎ ｔｏａｓｔ

You had no idea how you felt about the fact that Corpse agreed to joining the community event you were holding in a few days. Excited and a good kind of anxious, for sure. But there was also some guilt? Or was it something else?

No, you were sure it was the first thing. He wasn’t extremely well known earlier in his YouTube career, and after using the unfortunate gerd to his advantage and making music, he was suddenly all over every platform you used. You’d been a subscriber since before these days (of which only y/f/n knew about), and it was such a sight to see the growth and rapid friendships being made every day. Along with the rebranding, however, came a feeling that you knew all too well.

Still, you couldn’t deny that the simple thought of him taking part in something he knew would be another kind of chaotic made you feel way more than just some type of way. Why he was already starting to sound subtly adamant about ‘seeing you in your element’ was beyond you, but the red dusting your cheeks told a different story. As scream-induced and alternative driven as his music was, a lot of the words themselves helped at times since you started listening to it. Not to mention the amount of videos where he went up against your friends in Among Us and because you couldn’t physically join when they asked you just enjoyed them. Unbeknownst to him, Corpse was one of the select few you treated immediately as a close friend - daily roasts and dumb antics included.

“Agghhh—why is this happening?!” You groaned, slumping forward in your computer chair. The crush on Ludwig was one thing because you’d been friends for quite a while before it happened and you were able to jump right back into being normal friends afterwards. If you actually liked Corpse Husband, then you were going to be in a shitload of trouble. Feelings were completely unnecessary and only sought to make you even more emotional than you were during ‘Two Heroes’ and ‘Heroes Rising’. What were they even good for? Nothing but trouble. And that was exactly what you would be in if you let yourself crush on a faceless persona with a sexy voice who openly- “Oh, fuck!” You jumped at your bedroom door opening, hand on your chest as you whirled around to find y/f/n with an expectant look on her face. “I already told you. You aren’t getting any of my foreign deliciousness.”

“I don’t want your stupid anime snacks.” She retorted, allowing herself in despite your loud protest and sitting on the bed. “I can hear you stressing out from down the hall and it’s annoying.”

“Tch. The fuck are you so rude for?” You grumbled, scribbling in a notebook you were using to create the schedule you said would be up today. Who was she to come in and complain about your emotions? You never complained out loud when you’d hear her losing her mind over turning into wolf!Link when she played Twilight Princess. Some people just couldn’t help but not hold back from being so blunt. You had no idea where she got that attitude from.

There was a beat of silence after, which in turn made you even more stressed because here you were trying to organize an event that was much longer than normal since it had to be cancelled last time. Not that it was her fault but no one told her to attempt so many flips and cartwheels in the water of the big fountain-pool in the park nearby. You just did what you had (and wanted) to and helped her out during the duration of what should’ve been MHAmania. “-are you telling him?”

Looking up from your work, you saw that she had an expectant look on their face. “Huh? Telling who what?”

“When are you telling him that you like him?” She repeated, gesturing towards the phone laying beside your keyboard.

It immediately clicked and you raised an eyebrow. “Never because I don’t like him. Now goodbye.”

“Listen, all I’m saying is you gotta figure your shit out this time. We don’t need another Ludwig situation.”

“Ohmygod get out, I have things to do!!” You exclaimed, grabbing the nearest non-breakable thing and throwing it at her face.

“Fine! Just keep the groans to a minimum. This isn’t The Walking Dead.” She stated before walking out, barely missing the next object. You sighed and leaned into the seat, staring at the notebook so you could get back to making the schedule.

-

a/n: i’ve been getting deep into corpse smau recently and am in love w them and decided to do a soft chaotic vibe so it won’t be as vulgar but still vulgar yanno??

[kerie-prince]

the intern

Peter Parker x Reader (college au)

requested: (anon) plz plz plz give me some college aged, super powerful ( think stark ceo powerful ) peter parker shit. idc what the rest of the story is about, i just need a brooding, smoldering, suit wearing, extremely expensive, college aged spiderman. plz and thank you!!!!

warnings: language

summary: When you start a new internship at Stark Industries, you're not only surprised to find Peter working as your boss, but that he's not the shy neighborhood boy you grew up with

a/n: this doesn't follow canon so for this imagine, hammer industries is just a rival company and the snap never happened lol also i don't know anything more than operating a phone so don't expect me to write sciencey, techy stuff lmao

(gif source)

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you were running across the road to jump into a cab that was available. Your phone hadn't been charging all night as you thought it had which caused you to wake up forty-five minutes before the start of the interview. You need this internship before you graduate from Empire State and get your degree in robotics.

On the way there, you nearly got car sick as the driver took sharp turns and nearly ran past intersections seconds before they became red. Once in front of Hammer Industries, your heels clicked loudly as you ran inside the tall building. You checked in with the front desk and took the elevator up to the 10th floor.

Just as you arrived, Justin Hammer was calling your name. “I'm right here!” you nearly tripped on your heels and your breaths were short.

“I've called your name three times, do you understand what that makes you look like, correct?” Justin stood unphased as you stood up straight and tried to steady your breath. “All these people are on time. Some of these folks have been here for hours, even.”

“Yes, sir. I’m so sorry–”

“Shame, I really liked your resume and your report on the expansion of nano-technology. Try again next year, maybe.” Justin started to call out the next participant and when she got up you stepped in front of her, “Please Mr. Hammer, I need this internship or I can't graduate.”

The people in the waiting room had their eyes on the two of you, tension so thick that it was almost hard to breathe. “Then maybe you should have come on time,” he pushed you aside to let the next person in to interview. You quickly ran back out and spoke to no one all the way home. Your eyes and cheeks were aching as you held in the tears during your Uber ride. The driver wanted to ask if you were okay, but if you were to break down in his car he’d probably be stuck having to listen to what happened and if he was honest with himself, he didn't actually care.

Once you got to your apartment, you made a straight line to the kitchen. “Hey, how’d the interview go?” MJ, your roommate, asked while still looking at her computer. You reached into the freezer for your emergency ice cream pint, snatched a spoon and walked into your room without saying anything. “That bad, I guess,” MJ said to herself.

:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:

You sat with MJ and Ned in the cafeteria, but had not touched any of the food on your plate. Your head was laid on the steel table and you just continuously groaned. “I’m a failure,” you whined.

“No, what you are is fucking dumb,” MJ commented as she ate.

“Thanks, Michelle, that makes me feel so much better,” you looked up to glare at her before laying her head back down. Ned felt bad that his friend was in despair, “How come you didn't ask Peter for help?”

“Huh?” you lifted your head back up some of your hair falling onto your face.

“Yeah, Peter already works at Stark Industries, why didn't you just ask him to get you in? You could even skip the internship altogether and be in full time,” Ned suggested. You gave it some thought, but something about it didn't sound right.

“No, I don't want to bother Peter. I don’t want him to think that I’m only calling him for a job,” you sighed. Ned texted Peter anyways. Unexpectedly, Peter texted him back immediately.

“He says it’s fine,” Ned showed you his phone to read the text. ‘Yeah man, tell her to come in tomorrow and Ms. Potts will interview her’

You let out a deep breath you didn't know you were holding and pulled out your phone.

‘Thank you so much for helping me out’

(…)

‘No problem, anything for a friend’

:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:

The Stark Industries building was huge. It almost looked taller than the Empire State Building, and maybe it actually was. Your legs were shaking as you stared up at it. “Here goes nothing,” you assured yourself.

The lobby was bustling with people; workers walking around, a group of kids that seemed to be here on a field trip, and some teens taking pictures in front of one of Mr. Stark's Iron Man suits.

The trip up to the 17th floor was crowded with people as more and more entered in every passing floor. You had to squeeze yourself out and accidentally stepped on someone’s foot in the process.

Looking around, your jaw dropped. It was an open laboratory with groups of people putting together small robots, flying drones, and people laughing and talking. It was such a fun and cool looking environment, you wondered why you didn't just apply here in the first place.

Pepper Potts spotted you walking around and approached you with a tap on your shoulder. “Hi, I’m Pepper. You must be Y/N,” she reached her hand out to shake yours which you accepted. “Hi, nice to meet you.”

“Peter’s told me a lot about you. Come, follow me,” Pepper’s office had glass walls and a view of New York from behind her desk. You weren't particularly fond of heights, but even you would love to have an office view like that. Pepper gestured to the chair in front of her as she smoothed her dress to sit in hers. “So, I see here that you had an interview at Hammer’s. Can I ask why you chose them?” You didn't even know how they got that information. You hadn't seen or spoken to Peter in quite a while, so how Pepper knew that was beyond you. You sat there with your lips moving to say something but nothing was coming out.

Pepper seemed to have caught on what you were thinking and elaborated, “Before I do any interviewing, I do full background checks on everyone.” She had a gentle smile which made you feel better. You thought she would scold you or something considering the question did more than catch you off guard.

“My mother used to work there for a long time and I figured that I would follow,” you explained. Pepper nodded her head and wrote some notes down. She looked onto her computer and looked at everything there was about you. “Well, I see here that you have exceptional grades. 4.7 GPA since you started school and your paper on nano-technology has gotten much praise. I think even Tony read it.” No way. The Tony Stark read my paper? “So tell me, do you see yourself working here at Stark Industries?”

You looked outside and watched everyone in the open lab again. “Yes.”

“Then that’s all I need to hear. We’d love to have you here,” she reached over to shake your hand. You looked at her surprised and hesitantly shook hers. “Welcome to the team, Y/N.”

“Thank you so much!” You cupped her hand with both of yours and shook it a little too quickly, but she didn't seem to mind. You were ecstatic to start your path to your career, and at a dream place at that.

:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:

Your alarm rang at the time you set it to, but there was no need for it. You couldn't sleep all night. Today is your first day of your internship and you were feeling so many things at once. Excited, nervous, happy, scared…

You tried to restrain yourself to a light breakfast, but MJ’s pancakes were to die for that you ate two whole stacks. You looked through your closet just about fifteen times; you had already picked an outfit the following night with the help of MJ, but when you put it back on, you hated it. It sucked for your roommate seeing as she had to sit through you changing from eight other outfits.

You tried to picture the lab again to see how other people dressed for a better idea to base it on your outfit choice. From what you remember, it was pretty casual, so that’s what you stuck to.

You were given your pass the day you were hired, so you had no issue walking inside. The elevator was just as packed as it was last time, but you were more composed so there were no toes being stepped on this time. You weren't exactly sure as to where you had to go, so you looked around to see if there were other interns to ask where to start.

“Y/N!” Peter’s voice surprised you from behind. Your shoulders jumped a bit, but relaxed at the view of his face. His face… you actually hadn't seen him for quite a while. Months, maybe. His jawline was more defined, and his once floppy hair was styled neatly. You tried to not look him up and down, but the temptation was definitely there. And the other thing, his voice was deeper than you last remembered. Is this really Peter Parker? “Hey, Peter.”

He gave you a hug that nearly made you lose breath. He was stronger than you remembered. A memory flashed back to when you were in junior high; you, Ned and Peter were hanging around the local park and you beat Peter on rounds on the monkey bars. He gave up after a couple bars, but you went back and forth a couple times. ‘Show off.’ But now, he had muscles that the shirt he was wearing hugged his biceps.

The hug was quick, and you had to pretend that he didn't just squeeze some life out of you. “Do you work on this floor?”

“Yeah, you’re actually assigned to work with my team. Come, I’ll show you around.” He started walking and you noticed how his posture changed. Damn, I know it hasn't been this long since I've seen him. Why does he look so different? He was wearing trousers. Trousers? Peter hates trousers. But his ass is looking great–

“Hey guys, this is Y/N. She’s going to be working with us as an intern. And I'll say this beforehand, no she's not going to be taking coffee or lunch orders,” Peter introduced you. There were various aged people in this group. Some were your age, and one person looked to have been in his thirties. Peter is in charge of this group? They all said ‘hi’ to you and went around introducing themselves.

Once that was finished, Peter pulled a chair for you on the table. “You’ll take notes for me while I give this presentation,” he whispered to you before walking in front of the table and started writing on the clear glass board.

He was talking quickly and didn't stumble over his words like he used to. Everyone was listening to him attentively and you jotted notes down as quickly as you could. Every now and then, you would steal glimpses of him and feel a sort of… well you felt something. Amazement? Inspiration? Adoration?

No doubt was Peter one of the smartest people you've ever met and here he was leading his own team and making potential products for Stark Industries at such a young age. Seeing him at work was so… it was indescribable to you but all you could think of was how different he is now. In a good way, of course.

Peter Parker has been your friend for years and to see him change from a bumbling, shy, adorable nerd into a confident, intelligent working man attracted you.

When you got home, you thought a lot about your first day. Being an intern at Stark Industries was really fun, so far. You weren't expected to do silly things like get coffee or lunch for everyone or pick up someone’s dry cleaning. You actually learned something and even had your opinions heard on some of the things that Peter suggested for his team’s upcoming product presentation.

If this is what it's like to be an intern, you couldn't imagine what it would be like working full time.

“How'd it go?” MJ stuck her head in your room. “It was fun. I'm working with Peter,” you explained your day to her.

“Cool,” was the last thing she said before she went to her own room for the night.

:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:

In the past few months, your internship at Stark’s has been going swimmingly. Everyone's been so nice, and the work is so fascinating. You've gotten closer with Peter and along the way, he felt like he was more than a friend and boss to you.

Currently, everyone was getting ready for their final presentations for the upcoming annual Stark Industries Convention. It was going to be Peter’s first year presenting his own project with his team and you were so excited to be a part of it.

The time you’ve spent with Peter was really fun. He was a good mentor and a great friend. The only thing was that you couldn't help but look at him a little too long, and you’ve found yourself thinking about him during your classes or doing your homework. The shy boy from Midtown High was no more, replaced– no, grown into the Peter you know now. But you pushed all feelings aside to focus on your next thesis paper and mock-up of the handout brochures of Peter’s project.

Sometimes, you didn't even feel like an intern as Peter would ask for any ideas you had to make the project better and even let you help with assembly. He stayed true to his words and you’ve never once had to run for coffee or things like that. There’d be times when you would study some of the little parts under a magnifying glass and he’d come up slightly behind you and explain about some of the bits on the working table.

And every time he did that, your breath would be stuck in your throat and you’d have to remind yourself that this was just Peter helping you out and you’re just learning. But it was normal to want more every now and then… right?

:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:

The convention was just a few days away and you had trouble finding something to wear. These events were usually black tie events, but did that mean the presenting teams as well? Wouldn't that be uncomfortable?

One of the guys on your team, Richie, sat with you during lunch and talked about how he was probably going to wear the same suit as always. Not because he couldn't afford a new suit, but he was just a simple person and he only wears it once a year for the conventions and that’s all, so it’s still in mint condition.

The girls on your team and some from others were going dress shopping the day before and invited you to join. You were excited mainly because now you don't have to bother MJ for it.

Speaking of MJ, you were going to ask her to come with you. Pepper sent out the electronic invitations to everyone in the company and authorized plus ones to even interns. She’s never been to one – for reasons you were still confused about – but you wanted your best friend to be there for you. And if not MJ, then you bet Ned would still come with you. Wait, what if he’s going with Peter?

On cue, Peter had sat in the chair next to yours in the small break room, “Hey, Y/N.”

“Oh, hey Pete. You excited for Saturday?” Peter quietly stirred his coffee and gave you a small smile, “Uh, yeah. I’m nervous, but I’ve worked really hard on this. And everyone, too. Including you.”

You slightly blushed. I didn't do all that much you thought. You two just sat there taking small sips from the hot, bitter beverage.

“So… I wanted to ask you something,” Peter started.

“Mhm?” The coffee nearly slipped past your lips. You quickly grabbed a napkin to lightly dab some of it off of your lips.

“Well, as you know, we can bring anyone with us to the convention,” he trailed off.

“Yes?” Is he going to…

“And I wanted to know if you were bringing MJ with you.” Oh. You nodded your head and thought you hid your disappointment well but without knowing, Peter actually caught it for a split second. “Good. You can come with me,” he smiled and stood up.

You were in awe; without effort, Peter just asked you to be his date for Saturday.

:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:

“Dude, how are you not ready yet? He’s gonna be here any minute,” MJ sat at her computer per usual working. Your music was too loud for her taste playing from your shared bathroom. Peter said he would pick you up at 7, and it was currently 6:50.

You had put on and removed your make-up at least five times. Something was always wrong; one of the wings would either be thicker than the other, the blush would be the wrong shade, or the lipliner kept going out of place. But, alas, you finally nailed it.

Your hair was styled half up with elegant curls and braids. In between some braids were little bits of baby’s breath flowers. Most likely, you were going to have a hard time taking those out but they looked cute and it was too late to take them out.

Your dress was right above your knee and flowed comfortably so you wouldn't have a hard time walking. It was a neutral taupe color and had a V-line that ended just above cleavage and hugged the curve of your waist. You paired it with simple black heels and a small, white handbag.

“He’s here,” MJ informed you.

“Okay,” you took a deep breath, “what do you think?” You spun around and held your arms out. “You look really pretty. Now go get ‘em. I’ll watch it on the live stream.” She gave you a lazy thumbs up and resumed her work.

Outside was Peter in an all-black apparel. His dress shirt had only one button undone, and he had a loose blazer that accentuated the dip of his shoulders. He stood against the limo with his hands at his sides. God, he’s gonna be the death of me.

When he caught sight of you, he had a flirtatious smirk on his lips and held out for your hand. “Peter, where’d this limo come from?”

“Mr. Stark set it up for me,” he stated like it was no big deal. Must be nice being his favorite. He held the door for you to climb in and closed the door behind him. “We’re ready, Happy,” he told the driver. Happy rolled his eyes, closed the window and drove off.

The convention was off to a great start; Tony Stark came in with his suit as he always loved to do and started introductions before everyone else scattered around to look at the projects of the many departments in his company. Some groups of certain departments had large stages, some had small stands, like Peter’s.

There were still large crowds coming to see the smaller presentations, and everyone seemed to be fascinated with Peter's. You stood on the side as his team operated the machine and Peter spoke. He looked confident and it was mesmerizing to watch him.

After the night was over, all employee’s and some guests were brought back to headquarters for the after party. You walked around with Peter and had flutters in your heart every time he held the small of your back. The most exciting part of the night was meeting Tony Stark in person. He greeted Peter warmly, and then his eyes landed on you, “Peter, who’s this?”

“Oh, this is Y/N. She’s a friend of mine,” he gestured for you. You shook Tony’s hand and stood starstruck. “The one you don’t shut up about?” Pepper hit his shoulder and laughed nervously.

“Wait, I’ve heard about you. Buddy of mine works at Empire State and he showed me your paper, it was really good.” You were still shocked that he had even read it and here he was talking to you about it. You went back and forth talking about nano-technology.

On the way home, you and Peter talked and laughed about things you told him as you caught him up to what was happening on campus when he couldn't be there. It was a really fun night, and Peter was more noticeably relaxed now that the hard part was over. “Alright, home sweet home,” Happy announced through the window.

“Well, that’s me,” you smiled sadly, not wanting the night to end. You reached to open the door but Peter climbed out from his side. He walked around to open your door and just like he did earlier, held his hand out for you to grab and assist you out the limo. What was different this time was that he kept his hand in yours as he walked you to the door of the apartments. “I had a great time with you tonight,” Peter confessed.

“Me too,” your voice was soft and low for only him to hear. Peter’s eyes switched from looking into yours to your lips before he grabbed your face with both hands and kissed you. The kiss was needy, passionate, but had a certain gentleness to it. Once he felt you kiss him back with the same fervor, he deepened the kiss and brought one hand to pull your waist closer to him.

You pulled apart to regain your breath and looked to admire his swollen lips and he copied the same notion. He leaned in to give you a gentle kiss and pulled away, “Good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Peter.” Your cheeks were flushed and your face was warm. You watched him as he left and ran inside. Upstairs in your apartment, you found MJ and Ned sitting on the couch with a bag of chips in each of their hands.

“Good night?” Ned asked. You just nodded and walked slowly to your room.

“We saw the whole thing, by the way,” MJ said nonchalantly. You looked back to glare at your best friends, Ned smiling innocently at you and MJ keeping her straight face.

You changed into your pajamas and laid on your bed on your back, looking up at the ceiling. You couldn't wait to go back to work on Monday.

—

requests open!

[whump-a-la-mode]

Nemesis - Choose Your Own Whump 2

With A receiving the most votes on my last post, for this adventure we are going with a drugged Villain whumpee. Sorry about the generic name for this one, I really couldn’t think of anything else ^^

I hope you enjoy, and thanks to everyone for replying to the last post! As always, votes can be sent in through any method you want. Comments, asks, and PMs are all just fine. I’ll see it!

CW//Falling off a building, hostage situations, shapeshifting, medical abuse, extensive talk of sedatives, brief mention of a needle

Please note that the third scene of this piece is from the point of view of a drugged character, and thus the scene has some aspects that could be described as unreality. Please skip this scene if this would make you uncomfortable.

The video was grainy.

It was always grainy. That was the strange thing about it-- everyone carried around miniature computers in their pockets, equipped with tiny cameras that would have rivaled the most powerful devices of years prior. Any civilian could take a 4k quality video on some social media, but the moment anything actually important was happening, technology seemed to regress twenty years.

Hero supposed it didn’t matter. Their memory of the incident was certainly clear as day, better than any camera could ever capture.

And yet...

They clicked a button on the remote, and the clip restarted.

The sides of the screen were blocked out in fuzzy grey-- the video having been taken through the bars of a metal fence. Between them, the camera focused at first on the foot of a brown brick building, before panning upwards, only stopping upon reaching the roof. It took a moment for the visual to adjust, focusing against the glare of the sun overhead.

Two figures, on the building’s roof. Two figures seen so often together, in so many similar videos.

The standoff had taken from dawn till sunset. How Villain had gotten into the building unnoticed had yet to be fully understood, but, regardless of method, they wasted little time in taking hostage a group of professors, eating lunch together. A single one had been released, bringing with them a message:

“Everyone leaves. No one comes in. Everyone stays outside the fence.”

It had seemed like a trap, at first. Of course it had. It wouldn’t be the first time that Villain had played such a trick. After much debating, however, evacuation was deemed to be the best option, and the campus was soon barren.

The hours afterwards had been as long and hot as they had been nerve-wracking. The very thought of following orders from Villain made Hero’s stomach twist, but their orders were incredibly clear: Don’t do anything stupid.

It was an incredibly difficult order to follow.

Establishing a line of communication had been the hardest part. Villain had quickly disconnected any security cameras in the vicinity, alongside confiscating any technology their hostages might have held.

In the end, it was decided that a reporter would be the one to go in. One of the most recognizable faces in the city, and one that was neutral. Not fighting for either side, but representing the citizenry.

The whole plan bet on one fact: That the shapeshifting Hero could pull of the imitation.

It worked. At least, it worked for as long as it needed to. Villain accepted the olive branch, and allowed the supposed reporter to enter unharmed.

Of course, the illusion broke as soon as Hero opened their mouth. No matter how good they were at changing their shape, it did not change their voice. In the brief moment of confusion, the hostages had managed to make their escape.

Leaving only the two nemeses, and the building as their battlefield.

It was hard to remember the fight. They had waged so many battles against one another, they all seemed to blend together, at one point or another. There was broken glass, pushed over tables, exploding equipment, and then-

And then they were on the roof.

Villain was stupid, but they weren’t, well, they weren’t stupid. They may have had the moral compass of a kleptomaniac feline, and the brain cells to match, but they had common sense. A sense of self-preservation.

Forcing them to the edge of the roof... it was supposed to be like pushing them to a corner. Trapping them.

In the video, the two figures danced. Forward, and back, until one took the lead. Until they were up against the edge, with nowhere left to go.

They were supposed to stop. They weren’t supposed to fall.

They stopped their own fall, or at least they tried. They were telekinetic. Of course they did. But they were surprised, or confused, or, or something. They slowed themself down. But they did not stop. The force with which they struck the concrete parking lot below was more than enough to knock them out.

The video ended.

And... that was it. The end. Years and years of battles, some won, some lost, all ended. They should have been happy, and they were! They hated Villain, sincerely and truly hated them.

But no other villain fought like them. No other villain had their tongue, their wit. Their skill. Their fight.

Villain’s defeat should have been epic! The ultimate confrontation of good and evil, of chaos, and order.

Yet, their downfall was a simple trip.

In the corner of Hero’s TV screen, small white text helpfully reported to them just when that video had been recorded.

One year ago.

One year, since that day. Since Villain’s downfall. And now...

Hero’s phone buzzed. A text message. The confirmation of a meeting.

One whole year, and still, Hero’s mind was consumed by their lost nemesis.

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The diner was terribly busy, and yet, when Hacker walked through the door, Hero had no doubts as to their identity.

Despite their rather stereotypical appearance, there was nothing about the person’s manner that would have indicated the sheer amount of time they spent behind a computer screen. They greeted the receptionist, pointed to Hero, and exchanged a few words beyond that. With a smile, then, they parted, and made their way to Hero’s table.

Their manner only seemed strange when they sat down, and Hero noted that the way they smiled seemed to pain them.

“Is this seriously what you people act like?” They hissed through bared teeth. “Can I stop smiling now? Or will they look at me weird?”

“They’re already looking at you weird.”

“They are?”

“You- You don’t need to do that.”

“Oh thank god.” Immediately, their expression fell into one far more analytic. Far less friendly. “I, uh, don’t get out much.”

“Really?” Hero raised a brow incredulously. 

“I’ve got more important things to do than, uh, than going out. Anyways.” They stuck a hand outwards. It was partially covered by a fingerless glove. “I’m Hacker.”

“I figured.” Hero shook the offered hand. “I’m Hero, though I suppose you already know that.”

“You’d think people here would be, uh, a bit more in awe? It’s not everyday you get to eat in the same building as a superhero.”

“Keep your voice down, please.”

“Oh, sorry. Is it, like, a secret? You don’t have a secret identity, do you?”

“No. But when I’m out of costume, I’m not exactly that recognizable. So let’s keep it that way. Kapish?”

“Kapash. But, still, oh my god. This is so cool! A real life hero...”

“Yeah... Yeah. A real hero alright.”

A hero who could hardly focus during battle. A hero who infuriated their team leader more than they aided them.

“Anyways.” Hacker raised their head, a far more natural smile coming onto their face. “I have the... thing.”

“You mentioned that. It’s about Villain, right?”

“Mhm.”

The person across the booth leaned down, prying a laptop from a carrying case and placing it atop the table. It was a bulky thing, and as soon as it was turned on, the shrill sound of fans struggling not to overheat filled Hero’s head. Hacker clicked around a bit. They gripped the edges of the device, as if about to spin it around, before they stopped, frowning.

“It’s been a year now, hasn’t it?” They commented.

“Since Villain was captured. Yes. 374 days.”

“You remember?”

“Yes.”

“You miss them, don’t you?”

It was so direct. Hero couldn’t help but stutter:

“I don’t- Of course I don’t miss them. I hate them.”

Hacker looked up over the laptop screen to give them an incredulous look. It wasn’t a convincing lie.

“I don’t miss them.” Hero stood their ground. “But I want to make sure they’re contained.”

“I just... I don’t know if this is something you want to see. You’re trying to move on, and-”

“Show me it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. If it’s something to do with their containment, I need to know about it. I can’t let them hurt anyone else.”

“Well, that’s not the problem here. If you’re sure.”

With a sigh, Hacker spun the computer around, so that it’s screen faced Hero.

They weren’t sure what they expected. Some kind of... deep web threat? A message from Villain? A copycat? An escape attempt?

But they didn’t get any of that. Instead, the screen displayed a simple PDF. Medical records. At the top, in bold letters and a rather ostentatious logo, the header read:

Specialized Criminal Rehabilitation Unit of Organization

For the most part, the page was Greek to Hero. A slew of ID numbers and attending physicians with far too many acronyms following their names. What did make sense to them was the spreadsheet that made up most of the page, labelled:

Approved Daily Medication Dosage for Patient: Villain

The spreadsheet took up two pages with solid text. Hero did not recognize the medication names, of course, but they did not need to be a doctor to understand the entries written under the column labelled “Medication Purpose.”

Every single data cell, even as they scrolled to the bottom of the document, contained only one word. The same word.

Sedation

“This is...” Hero muttered, furrowing their brow. Scrolling up and down. This had to be wrong, somehow.

“I don’t understand most of it.” Hacker commented sheepishly. “But, uh, I have a few friends with some more medical knowledge than me. They’ve never seen anything like it. It’s more than enough medication to sedate a fucking elephant- sorry, excuse my language.”

“It’s fine.” The confusion in their voice was rapidly melting to fury.

“Even for major surgical procedures... nothing near this level would ever be used.”

“This has to be a mistake.” Hero shook their head. “A mix-up. Maybe it’s like... all the medications the facility ordered. And they just labelled it wrong.”

“Well, if it’s a mistake, they’ve been making the exact same one for an entire year. I’ve got 374 of these files. Newest one just got uploaded a few hours ago.”

“And they’re always the same?”

“With some minor dosage adjustments, but yes. That’s not, um, that’s not all of it.”

Hacker reached over, dragging the computer back so that it faced them again. There was more clicking this time, along with typing at a speed that made Hero’s fingers hurt, just to watch it.

When the laptop was spun back around, this time, it was a video.

A camera feed.

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Villain felt about to choke on their tongue.

It wasn’t a new feeling. More or less, it was the only thing they felt, anymore. That heavy block of muscle in their mouth, threatening at any moment to block throat choke air no air no-

They were losing their words again. Words... wordsssssss... Voices. Voices spoke words. Sometimes, they did. Sometimes they grumbled and muttered and sputtered and murmured like a car murmured. Cars... or was it cats? No, cats didn’t murmur. They purred. What else did they do? Not bark... no, barking too loud for cats. Cat go mew mew, real quiet like.

Cat’s meow, that is a cat’s voice. There were other voices, too. Quiet like cats. Two of them, two voices. They knew those voices, those were the doctors’ voices. The doctors liked to talk a lot. They talked, but they did not see. Or... no. They were not seen. Villain did not see them. They wanted to, but their eyes were broken. The engines in their eyelids would not run anymore, would not open the garage door, Sally!

One of the doctors’ voices got closer. A million miles away, a hand was laid upon Villain’s wrist, flipping over their hand so that their palm faced downward.

“Let’s move it.”

It was a silly thing to say. Nothing moved in this place. Nothing that Villain could see, as their eyes were broken.

“Is the other vein healed enough?”

“It’s going to have to be.”

Silly words... Villain wanted to laugh, but their muscles were firmly locked away behind a padlock.

“Okay.” The doctor sounded so sad. Why were they so sad? Villain’s mouth was full of soil. The doctor was tired. “I’ll get the rest of the medicines.”

“We’re going 30 milligrams up from yesterday on the Propofol.”

“Oh? Why?”

“They opened their eyes, yesterday.”

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Hero felt sick. In the top right corner of the security footage, the same logo from the medical records was displayed. The Specialized Criminal Rehabilitation Unit of Organization. Below it, a subtitle.

“Keeping the city safe.”

Was this safety? It shouldn’t have been. They had known, of course, what had happened to Villain after their capture and very brief hospital stay. It was what happened to all villains. They were sent to the rehab unit.

A therapy program. Helping villains to control their powers and reform their lives. To return them to the straight and narrow. But, now that Hero thought about it...

Villain was the only one who had never been released.

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Thanks so much for reading! Just like last time, there are two options along with every part of this story. Alongside each options is a question, so that you guys can give more specific suggestions if you so wish. The option that receives the most votes will be the choice that our Hero makes!

A.) Tell someone about what is happening - Who should Hero tell? (They are on a small team, as well as part of a larger Organization, for reference.)

B.) Attempt a more direct approach. Visit Villain in the rehab program - Should Hero try to rescue Villain immediately?

[woozisnoots]

Hello alex! Maybe I'm to early for having a emergency request but I haven't really going anywhere outside my house beside buy groceries and I haven't socialize properly in months (maybe there is a bunch of people can relate). It's stressing and make me mentally exhausted for months 😭😭😭 can I request something like joshua fluff or wonwoo fluff that can comfort us? And I get it if you can't do it since I think I'm to early for asking. Anyway hope you have a nice day ❣️

no ofc it’s not too early! pls, i want to do this for you guys 🥺💓 these are meant to be small so i ended up doing both. i hope you enjoy and if you ever need someone to talk to, my inbox and dms are always open!

𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙦𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙩𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧!

° pairing: joshua x reader, wonwoo x reader ° genre: fluff! ° word count: 1214 ° warnings: none! ° tagging: @jaeyoonurl bc she has a thing for j*shua hong

masterlist!

— joshua

in the scenario that you and joshua are living together in a small apartment complex, he does the slightest bit to annoy you whether it be intentional or not

like he’ll either make you stay in bed with him  longer than usual so you’d be late to a zoom class / meeting

or he’d purposefully flick you behind the ear while you’re cooking which causes you to accidentally pour more than just a pinch of salt on your eggs 

since josh owns that little projector that has slides of all the different constellations, he would turn it on right before you guys go to sleep as you lay next to each other on the bed and just stare at the stars from your ceiling

he loves making jewelry to pass the time while you guys watch netflix together. and wants nothing more than receiving an accessory that you made yourself

“joshua hong, please!” you fling your arms up to reach for the object now in joshua’s hands, much to your avail. “it’s literally so ugly. i beg you, please don’t wear it!” the little jump you add doing nothing but exhaust your energy. 

you knew it was bad idea, you should have trusted your gut the minute joshua left to get the groceries. forty-five minutes was just not enough time for you to possibly make a small thank you gift for you boyfriend. a token to say, ‘this is what three years has gotten us.’

“but you gave it to me!” joshua refutes back. you let your guard down, breathing rapidly in order to catch your breath from the unnecessary movement of having to keep up with him. he, on the other hand, took this as an opportunity to run, sprint away from your wrath and make a clean line for the bathroom before shutting the door to securely lock it in place. 

joshua hears your wallowed out screams coming from the other side and softly chuckles under his breath, wondering when you’ll ever get used to his childish antics at times. he safely unravels his hands to reveal the tiny object. and he can’t help but smile wide, ear to ear, and think, ‘so that’s why i felt something pointy.’ 

you’ve given up at this point. by now, he’s probably already seen your gift and for all you know, everything is doomed. your hand laid flat on top of the door, deciding whether to shrivel in front of him now or wait until he confronts you first. yet, he’s able to make that decision for you as he abruptly opens the door causing you to fall forward straight into his arms. 

“why, hello gorgeous,” you watch from underneath him, the corner of his lip rising up to form a cheeky smirk. you squint your eyes menacing at the thought that he could possibly be wearing the horrid gift you made. tilting your head to the side, you open one eye to catch a glimpse of green hanging from joshua’s left ear. he turns his head just slighty so you could get a better look. “you’ve really out done yourself, if i had anything to say about it. though i have to say, i didn’t think you’d go for the cute food aesthetic. i thought you hated avocados.”

blood immediately rushes towards your cheeks and hide your face from joshua’s vision but he was too quick. using his brute strength, he pulls your weight so you’re standing in front of the mirror, back facing him. your mind spirals as you feel joshua tuck strands of your hair behind your ear. “awe lookie, i knew you’d be wearing the other one,” he says before deliverying a small peck to your cheek, leaving you a scrambled mess. “what a perfect anniversary gift.”

— wonwoo

spending time with wonwoo during quarantine would be rather quiet and simple, but that doesn’t mean your time spent together is boring

having little to nothing to do all day makes you realize how much renovations you guys can do around your home

your morning conversations over breakfast would be about different home décor that you found on amazon and you would end up having such a fun time talking about it because you guys turn them into little debates over if the items are actually necessary 

that being said, wonwoo would be so willing to buy anything that would fill your guys’ boredom. and yes, that would include getting two separate desks, possibly four computer screens, two headsets, two light up keyboards for the heck of it, and of course: two very comfortable gamer chairs

no, he would not let you win at any games for freebies — you gotta earn that shit

out of all the days of the week, nothing was ever reserved for sundays. truly, every day was a free day — lounging around, doing chores, testing new cooking hacks to see if they actually worked. but sundays especially were just extra... boring. the very end of the week with absurd nothing to do. which has led you to spend this sunday morning in front of your dual computer screens with your boyfriend joining you on the other side of the desk.

“damn it!” you exclaim, lightly slamming the keys on your keyboard due to this endless frustration boiling inside of you since you’ve started playing. “how do i keep losing... it’s club penguin for fucks sake!”

your hands collect your face with pure dread and exhaustion, wondering how your supreme logic failed you during card jitsu. you hear a hearty chuckle coming from wonwoo sitting across from you. “the cards are just in my favor, sweetheart.”  he eyes you as he takes the warm cup of coffee to his lips to take a sip. “how about, best two out of three to see who has to make breakfast?” the huskiness of his voice growing deeper with each word, leaving you in trace for just a moment. 

you ponder at the bet, looking back between the screen showcasing your pink penguin and your beautiful barefaced boyfriend, ultimately coming to a decision. “what about. i watch you wipe out your penguin foes for the next few rounds and then we can make breakfast together,” you suggest instead, your mind thinking far beyond your apparently lousy deck of cards. 

“fine by me,” wonwoo shrugged, adjusting himself comfortably to his seat. you silently admire him from where you are, noticing how notably meticulous he was being when he’s focused. wonwoo’s eyes captures yours but gives you a puzzled look. “are you not gonna come over here?” he quietly asks. 

the simple question makes your head drop, feeling embarrassed as you try hard not to show him how flustered he made you. regardless, your legs move without you having to think it over. and instead of sitting on the small space that he left for you on his chair, you move his arm aside to face him before straddling your legs and sitting on his lap. 

wonwoo, completely unfazed, takes his free arm not holding his mouse and tugs you in closer to his chest so you can lay your head on his shoulder. for the remainder of your morning, your eyes slowly start to droop to the sound of penguin screams and victory. 

[sawtual]

wow thanks! that was a really in depth post about it you make good points! when I played I definitely got the sense that monika had encouraged sayori to kill herself and I didn’t get the sense of any remorse when natsuki or yuri died or got fucked up but I guess u do make some good points there about how she was just trying to make them less desirable rather than kill them. I’m new to the game and the fandom so im not super familiar with everything yet but is there anything in the canon or lore that points away from monika having pushed sayori to commit suicide or is it mostly just fan theories and personal readings? either way thank u so much for answering!

yes i can absolutely find you some info on that!

there's quite a bit of information hidden within the games files, so I'm kind of assuming if you're new to the game, that you might not have seen these things? so ill dive into them too!

I'm gona do this under the cut so i can like, dissect things from the game !

(also i found stuff thats specifically pointing away from her meaning actual harm/death for Both yuri and sayori, jsyk)

iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii.txt (discovered in game files during act 2)

“All I want is for you to hate them. Why is that so hard.”

not, all i want for them is to die. she doesnt want to kill them. she wants to separate us from them so we are with Her, not them. things spiral out of control, but it was never her intention for things to get this bad. ntm its repeated over and over in this game how badly monika wants to die. she's hanging on by a thread, keeping on only because she wants to be with us, to be in contact with reality. this leads to really unfortunate circumstances but i really strongly believe everything in the text alludes to the fact she did Not want things to get this bad

ACT 3 INTRO:

(im copy pasting a transcript of the monologue here, but this is taken from the very beginning of act 3, which you can see in this video starting at 25:56)

imo this is all the proof needed to show that she really had no intention of ‘killing’ sayori and yuri. things spiraled out of control far beyond what she was capable of handling. 

her goals with making sayori more depressed and yuri more obsessive were, in here words “to just try to make them as unlikable as possible”. she didnt want her friends to brutally die!! she loved them q_q i feel like a lot of people really dont look at this specific part of what she says and take it to heart. its very telling for her character and important for understanding what she does and why she does it

ACT 3 MONOLOGUES:

sayori's hanging (cw: graphic descriptions of suicide)

dialogue of importance:

"I was thinking about Sayori earlier... I still wish I could have handled that whole thing a little more tactfully."

+

"Come to think of it, it was probably less 'changing her mind' and more just her survival instincts kicking in." "So you can't really fault her for that." "It's easier to think that she probably wouldn't have changed her mind anyway, right?" "It's not healthy to think about the things you could have done differently." "So just remember that even though you could have saved her, it's technically not your fault she killed herself." "I may have exacerbated it a little bit, but Sayori was already mentally ill." "Still, though..." "I wonder how things would be if you and I just started dating from the get-go?" "I guess we'd all still be in the clubroom, writing poems and having fun together." "But what's the point when none of it is even real?" "I mean, it's the same ending either way, right?"

ok so whats important here, is monika is essentially using us, the player, as a mirror in act 3? the things she says i believe, very strongly show her sense of uncertainty in her actions, and her fears of what if she could have done something else??

"even though you could have saved her, its technically not your fault she killed herself" reads SO much to me like shes trying to comfort herself with this, she doesnt want it to be her fault. nothings real, sayori's a character in a game. but she wishes so badly they could have just been normal girls living together.

happy end poem

OK SO LIKE. this is actual proof of Why she does everything she does. she's scared if she reaches out and tells us she's trapped in a game, we'll stop playing, we'll kill her. she tinkers with the game, trying to make herself look the best, trying to make us choose her, and nothing works. and this leads to her becoming frustrated and scared, and screwing with the game more and more desperately trying to do anything to save herself.

if you recall, in act 2, she gives you a poem which bluescreen the computer. this was actually an attempt she makes to escape the game q_q she never wanted to kill yuri, she never wanted things to escalate like that. she wanted to get out but she had no idea how to program her way out of the game, resulting in everything crumbling around her, and her friends dying.

my own route

hang on this one genuinely makes me so upset.

it very much relates back to how in the conversation about sayori's suicide, she's still clearly thinking about how things could be Different. shes thinking about how they could be normal. "I may not have needed to take such drastic measures to be with you. Maybe the rest of the club would still be around..." , and then immediately trying to convince herself it doesnt matter, and that she doesnt care.

its so so obvious shes hurting and she misses her friends. the additional "i really dont (miss them)" at the end really shows that shes desperately trying to convince herself that it was worth it, that she did everything she should have, and her friends dont matter. but they clearly do matter to her. she loved them (she couldnt even delete them if u recall)

also another important part about this monologue, a lot of people say she killed the other girls out of jealousy, but this shows thats not true??

"I think I would end up forcing you onto my route anyway." "It has less to do with me not having a route, and more to do with me knowing that nothing is real."

this wasnt because shes 'in love' with us. she wanted to be close to something real, something tangible. she's clinging onto us, the player character, like someone lost at sea with a piece of driftwood, doing everything she can to stay afloat

wine

ok this isnt on the surface level as important as the other ones, but literally look at how she talks about this memory.. she misses them so much and talking about this memory she clearly cherishes brings her so much joy. she doesnt belittle any of them, she doesnt talk down on them, she’s just reliving this memory because it makes her happy 

I HOPE THIS HELPS?? im sure theres a few more things im forgetting, but i did my best to scrabble up everything i could to show how monika’s not an evil mastermind, shes a scared girl who didnt realize what she was doing and when things got too bad, she did her best to fix it, only for it to get worse n worse

edit: oh heres the proof that monika always loved the girls and never actually deleted them

:’)

edit 2: haha.. um ouch

“It’s not right for me to miss things that weren’t even real in the first place.” shes forcing herself to try and ignore her feelings for the other girls

[panicatthediaz]

11 and 56 for the mash up? ☺️

11. Neighbour AU + 56. Awful First Meeting

Oh goodness, Lorna. Neither of these is my usual thing, so let's see 😂

.

A few months ago, Buck had moved into this apartment — about the size of what Abby's had been, but properly his — and his neighbors knew he kept weird hours, sometimes (most of the time), what with being a firefighter and all.

They also found him mostly approachable, which was pretty nice. Less nice, however, was no one telling any of that to his new downstairs neighbor, who'd just finished moving in, if he heard some other neighbor right.

(He'd have offered to help, but everything seemed to have happened either when he was on shift, or too early for him to actually be of any use.)

And, listen, he'd just gotten home from a long shift (long, not particularly difficult. Lots of calls and not much to distract him between them), and he's tired, and, sure, he knew the building was slowly being renovated, but he couldn't possibly be blamed for the burst pipe; he was just taking a shower, nothing fancy.

-

Okay, not gonna lie, I have no idea what I'm doing. Eddie's just moved in, he's stressed beyond belief, and Buck's dead on his feet, barely computing half of what Eddie's telling him.

But I do like the mental picture of like, Buck immediately going downstairs to warn Eddie to not go into his bathroom (idk, I imagine he might have heard it?), and Eddie going upstairs because what the fuck, and them just missing each other, but then spotting each other again going back to their respective floors and just a "wait" moment where Eddie's whole stress rant happens and Buck's just... "I'd offer my bathroom, but I don't actually think that will help".

[thestraggletag]

Silver Tongue, a Rumbelle fic

Summary: Based on this prompt. Royce Gold is determined to confess his secret feelings towards the librarian. Unable to do it in person he sits down to write a letter but a combination of liquid courage and a determination to truly unburden himself made him perhaps a bit too ardently honest. And a bit careless.

This might have a sequel.

Rating: NC-17 

It had taken a long time to arrive at this point, but now that he’d made the decision Royce Gold was oddly calm, as if having made the decision had magically ended the slow-burning agony he’d been in since the library had opened three years ago. He hadn’t much thought he would be affected by the event, and had privately thought it wouldn’t last. He could not see there being any need for a library in Storybrooke, a town where most people had last held a book in high school, if even then. He had thought it would not last long, one of Regina’s many pet projects that was abandoned when it did not justify its constant spending of town funds.

He had been wrong, in the end, because he hadn’t factored in the librarian. Belle French swept into town with her high-end, short-skirted fashion and noticeable Australian accent and he thought the moment he saw her that she wouldn’t last. Too foreign for a small town like Storybrooke. He had been wrong, though. She had soon made friends with the miners, and Granny and Ruby, and even a few of the teachers from the local school. She also made sure to make the library indispensable, organising book clubs and other after-school activities for the children, offering computer literacy courses for adults and a place for the knitting club to meet, as well as regular table-game nights that surprisingly became wildly popular with certain crowds. And had made Granny an unbearably-cocky backgammon champion, two years running.

So she had stayed, and soon he had begun to notice the danger in it. The way he could not stop staring at her in the diner, or as she walked down the street. They way he got tongue-tied when in her presence, and turned softer, kinder. The way his smirks turned to smiles around her, and he laughed easier. She was smart, and learned, and had a delightful sense of humor. Dark, like his. And yet she was a being of light. Kind, always ready to help, and willing to see beyond the surface. Beyond the drunken escapades of Leroy, or the scandal surrounding Miss Blanchard and Mr Nolan, or his own sordid reputation. And it was that thing that made her so dangerous, how unafraid she was of him, and how determined she seemed to be in getting to know him.

He had been half in love with her before he realised it. The attraction he could deal with- after all, she was a gorgeous woman, and he a man with eyes- but the feelings scared the fuck out of him. It was too late to stop himself, however, so he resigned himself to being a besotted fool… from a safe distance. Only the more they interacted the less he seemed reconciled with the idea until it felt like he was choking on his unexpressed feelings. 

That’s why he had decided, in a fit of uncharacteristic emotional bravery, to unburden himself. Confess his feelings, likely be politely refused, and put an end to the madness. Or perhaps, if fate smiled upon him, be rewarded with a tentative acceptance to a dinner date, and perhaps more. It was always a possibility, albeit a small one, but enough to give him the push he needed.

He had decided it would be best to write her a letter. He got stupidly tongue-tied in her presence, after all, and there was something whimsically old-fashioned about a written letter, which he was sure she would appreciate. So on Friday night, after dinner, he locked himself in his study, fished out his Waldmann Tango and his best stationary, and…

Drew a resounding blank.

It was difficult to start writing with a blank page, he reasoned, so he tried at first simply to write the opening line, immediately falling into a ten-minute debate on whether to address the letter to “Miss French” or “Belle” and what to put in front of it “Dear Miss French”, on one end of the spectrum, seemed too dry and cold, and “Dearest Belle” on the other, too forward and presumptuous.

In the end he decided on “My dear Belle”. There was no point in writing a letter declaring his feelings if he could not even bring himself to call her by her given name and the slightly possessive edge to his greeting might come off as ardent rather than off-putting.

The opening paragraph seemed easy at first: “I am writing to you in order to express certain feelings I am sure have gone unnoticed so far, given the pains I’ve taken to ensure they remained hidden, in part due to our mutual circumstances and standing in town…” yet after a few times reading and re-reading it he had the odd, sinking feeling he might be writing the slightly-more-modern version of Mr Darcy’s ‘In vain I have struggled’ speech and that hadn’t gone over well the first time around. Luckily for him, at least, Belle had no sister he could insult while he was at it. So he scraped it and tried again, but soon felt everything he wrote sounded too formal, stilted and lacking in emotion. He was laying it all down like it was a contract to seal one of his deals, and it was hardly conducive to romance, or reflective of his true feelings.

He stood up, going for the wet bar he kept in the corner of the office. He selected a half-full bottle of Lagavulin and poured himself a generous three fingers into his favourite tumbler, deciding to forgo ice altogether. He needed to loosen up and good Scotch always helped in that. He sat down again, downed the drink in one go, and took another shot at it. He wanted to sound… Passionate, he supposed. It was the whole point of the letter, after all, to confess his true feelings. And his feelings were… ardent. Powerful. All-consuming, at times. Like a small, flickering flame that had slowly built into a veritable inferno. Though he did not wish to frighten her, he did wish to unburden himself and leave her with no doubt regarding his feelings.

“There hasn’t been a day since you arrived in Storybrooke that I haven’t felt your presence in some small way. You’ve taken a permanent residence in my mind and my heart, and there are days when I can scarcely think of anything else. All it takes is a small conversation or even a passing smile and I’m rendered useless.”

He fetched the Scotch from the bar and poured himself another drink, deciding it would be best to leave the bottle nearby. He felt he was finally getting into the groove of things, building up to something that sounded less like a legal clause. He downed his second Scotch, feeling the pleasant burn as it travelled down his throat, and took his pen again.

“You need not be concerned if you do not share my feelings. I will respect whatever decision you make. I simply wanted to tell you of the warmth you inspire in me, the way you’ve torn through all the walls I’ve built between myself and the rest of the world. And yet I know you to be, above all things, kind. More beautiful on the inside that you are on the outside, if that’s at all possible. I know that I am safe in your hands, whether you choose to give me a chance or not. Thank you for treating an old beast with kindness and humanity and know that, no matter what the outcome is, you have a friend and an ally across the street from the library, if there is ever anything you need.”

He signed it simply “Yours” because it felt apt. He certainly felt hers, in any case. Below he signed his name, trying to make his signature a bit more whimsical, give it a tad more flourish. Afterwards he stretched, poured himself another drink, and read it. It was… Good. Not too dry, not too passionate. Solid. Respectful but a good representation of his feelings at the same time.

Well… to an extent. He gulped down his third glass of Scotch and poured himself another, ruefully acknowledging that the letter was not quite honest. It was a bit restrained. Or a lot restrained. It felt like the gentlemanly thing to do, to tone down some of the more unbecoming feelings, keep those more intimate urges locked up for the time being. But perhaps, he mused, he could let loose a bit, to try and see if a more emotionally-honest letter would actually be preferable.

He could tell her, perhaps, a bit more about how it was hard for him to keep his eyes off her when they were in the same room. How utterly beautiful she was, small enough to make him wanna crowd her in, whisk her away somewhere and lean over her, feeling her breath on his neck. How he adored her high heels and flirty skirts and wished nothing more than to-

He removed his tie, and scratched out that last sentence, automatically fishing for his drink to try and cool himself down. He was beginning to get inappropriate and, anyway, he did not wish to come across as if he was solely enamoured with her physical appearance. Though he very much was enraptured by it, it was her personality that had made him fall for her. Things like her kindness, her understanding, her insatiable curiosity. He wished to share everything with her. Wanted to teach her all the secrets of his trade, have deep discussions on books they mutually liked, bare his soul to her inquisitive eyes.

“In my dreams, over and over, I am a willing slave to your curiosity, your insatiable need to explore and experience. When I close my eyes I see us in every way two people can be together, entwined till it’s impossible to decipher where I end and you begin. You let me press my mouth against every inch of you, drink from your cunt till I’m satiated, but it’s never enough. I wish to vainly attempt to quench your curiosity anywhere and everywhere you’ll let me, at any time of day. Over and over till neither of us can walk and I cannot remove your scent from my fingers, my mouth, my cock.”

He stared at the paragraph, head tilted to the side. The paper looked a bit blurry, so he checked to make sure he was wearing his glasses. He was. Odd. He reached out for his glass of Scotch, surprised that it was empty. He refilled it, noticing the bottle felt surprisingly light. He re-read the paragraph, trying to figure out if it was a bit too risqué. But, he reasoned, Belle was risqué, in her attire, in her reading choices. Sure she would appreciate him being the same, going out of his comfort sort in order to convey the depth of his affection.

“I dream of fucking you for hours on end. Slowly, with the care and thoroughness you deserve, till we’re both numb and spent. I want to make you ache in places where the pain bleeds into pleasure, and convince you that only I am worthy of making you come. That none of the boys you might have had between your lovely legs were worth a second look. I want to become your favourite toy, there for whenever you might need me, eager to please, to make you sigh and moan and keen till you are hoarse.”

He was hard, he noticed, but it was hardly a surprise, though he thought he might have drunk a bit too much for his body to rise to the occasion. He thought about touching himself for the briefest second, but quickly dismissed the idea. He was on a writing roll, it wouldn’t do to jeopardise that. Instead he poured himself another glass of Scotch, surprised when he had to tip the bottle all the way. He didn’t remember drinking enough to empty it, but he must have. Shrugging, he turned his attention back to the letter.

“I want to take you against the stacks of the library, amidst the books you love so much. I want to fuck you in the backroom of my shop so your smell lingers there. I want to go down on you in my bed for ours, till the silk sheets are ruined beyond repair. I want to consume you anywhere, everywhere, knowing that I will never be truly satiated, that it will never be enough. Have you splayed across my dining room table so I could eat you out as many times as I wanted, as much as you needed. I want to do everything to you, and have you do everything to me, till I can’t scrub you from my skin, the same way I cannot seem to be able to erase you from my heart and my mind.”

It was a bit of a sappy ending, but he supposed it balanced the more physical emotions out. He signed his name at the bottom with a flourish, smiled in satisfaction and staggered to his feet, determined to make it to his bedroom. He would get a good night’s sleep, wake up refreshed, and deliver the letter personally first thing in the morning.

In the morning, once he was done throwing up and had managed to shower, he shook his head at the idea he could’ve ever thought he would wake up anything other than terribly hungover. He popped a couple of aspirin, forced himself to swallow a few bites of dry toast, and dressed himself for the day. Before going out the door he remembered the letter, wincing when he recalled specifically the second draft he had made, clearly in a state of drunken foolishness. He picked up the sheets of paper, thinking for a second about ripping them up. He stopped himself at the last minute, though. The letter might not be fit to ever be seen by Belle, but he fancied the idea of rereading it later. He folded it neatly into an envelope and fetched a second one for the original, much more suitable letter. He would slip that one underneath the library’s door on his way to the shop. 

He was startled by his home phone ringing, picking up to see it was the tip on the estate sale he had been waiting for. He jotted down the necessary information, went back to his desk to retrieve the letter and was out the door a few seconds later. He hurried to the library and, before he could convince himself otherwise, slipped the envelope with the letter underneath the doors, feeling a mixture of relief and anxiety afterwards. He had done it, and though he felt unbearably nervous about the whole thing, he was proud of himself for following through.

Or he was, until he opened what he thought was the unsuitable letter and realised it was the original first draft. He had switched them up by mistake. Ice flooded his veins, and he felt like someone had punched him in the gut, leaving him gasping for breath. This couldn’t be happening. Not to him, not with Belle. The more he thought about it the more his mind recalled fragments of the letter, lingering in its uncouth language and vivid imagery. He was fucked, totally and completely.

Unless…

Maybe she hadn’t opened the letter yet. Or she had, but hadn’t gotten around to read it all. The first page or so was quite reserved. Perhaps he could sneak into the library and retrieve the rest, or swap it for the correct letter. He had the keys to the library, as it was his property, rented by the town. It would feel and likely be a terrible violation of the librarian’s private space, even though he did not intend to go beyond the library, but it would be worse to allow her to be submitted to such basic thoughts as the ones he had written down the other night. 

With that in mind he took the library keys from his safe and went out into the night. Storybrooke, being a small town, was deserted at that time, which was a blessing. Less people to see him slip inside the library using the back door, or hear him as he rummaged around inside, trying to be quiet and not use his phone flashlight, lest that alert Belle upstairs in her apartment somehow. Tentatively he made his way to her office, sure she would have surely put the letter, hopefully unsealed. But when he got close he noticed light coming through the windows of the office, where the blinds were partially-lowered. It seemed that, given his fucking luck, Miss French was still diligently toiling away doing something or the other for the library. Nevermind. He would take a discrete peek, to see if he at least spotted his letter atop her desk, and if he did he would hide in some shadowy corner of the library and wait her out. If he didn’t he would cut his losses and go back home, to try and figure out how he was ever going to face Belle again. 

He approached silently, drawing one of the slats down to peer inside. He spotted Belle right away, leaning back on her office chair with an ottoman propping her feet up. She was reading something and for a moment he appreciated her face, eyes focused on the page, cheeks slightly flushed and lips parted. Then he registered the rest, the shirt tossed above the desk along with her bra, the black silk camisole making her hardened nipples visible and her left hand, which disappeared somewhere beneath her rucked-up skirt. She sighed, head rolling back as she whispered something.

He didn’t know what registered first, whether it was the fact that she was saying his name or that it was his letter she was reading, clutched tightly to her right hand. There was no doubt as to what she was doing, and yet he could hardly believe that Belle fucking French was bringing herself to orgasm in her office while reading his letter. He pinched himself, unwilling to believe he was seeing what he was seeing, but the sting felt all too real. It wasn’t a dream, it was, somehow, reality. Sweet, sweet reality.

He needed to get out. As much as he burned to just burst into the office and let his mouth do what Belle’s fingers were attempting, it wouldn’t do. By some miracle she was not offended or otherwise put off by his risqué letter, but she sure would be by him breaking into the library. Offended and perhaps scared, unsafe, which was the last thing he wanted her to feel, especially in his presence. He would sneak out, quietly, and swing by the library tomorrow afternoon, right after closing time. As much as it would embarrass him to bring up his letter he would know she reciprocated his feelings, or that at least she was open to them, and that would give him the courage needed to ask her out. 

It was a solid plan, a great plan. And it would’ve worked, he was sure, if he hadn’t knocked over a banker lamp as he backed away from her office. The  antique bronze made a horrible noise as it collided with the floor, and the green shade shattered upon impact, making a mess.

“Who’s there?”

Fuck.

[buoyantsaturn]

arrival to eeby deeby (1/1)

thank u @gayleafpool for the title

summary: Rachel gave Nico a push toward Will. “Make him shut up.” 

Will frowned, because Nico definitely wasn’t making any noise, so he didn’t see what the problem was. 

Then, it happened.

word count: 1790

read on ao3

Will was laying in a sunny patch of grass outside the infirmary. It was one of those rare moments when he didn’t have any patients and actually got to relax for once while all of his siblings were off at one of their activities. 

He was debating heading back inside to find the community iPod that had been left behind a few years ago that all the children of Apollo had decided to share, when something suddenly blocked his sunlight. Will opened his eyes to find Rachel and Nico standing over him, both looking grumpier than they had when Will last saw them a few hours ago. 

Will propped himself up on his elbows and asked, “What’s up?” 

Rachel gave Nico a push toward Will. “Make him shut up.” 

Will frowned, because Nico definitely wasn’t making any noise, so he didn’t see what the problem was. 

Then, it happened.

Nico squeaked. 

His shoulders jumped with the sound, and his face burned red. 

“Oh my gods,” Will said, pushing himself up further until he was sitting in the grass. “That was adorable.”

“It’s not,” Nico and Rachel argued at the same time. 

“It’s torture!” Nico complained, and hiccuped again.

“He’s driving me crazy!” Rachel added. “I let him hang out because I wanted some quiet company while I painted, but he won’t stop hiccuping!” 

Will picked himself up off the ground and brushed off his shorts. “How long has this been going on for?” 

Nico shrugged, or maybe his shoulders just shook again from the force of another hiccup. 

“At least an hour,” Rachel answered for him. “I just couldn’t stand it anymore, and I mean, this is a medical issue, isn’t it? Can you fix this?” 

“Um.” Nico squeaked pitifully, and his arms tightened across his chest. “Yeah, I’m sure I can figure something out,” Will told her. 

Rachel nodded her head once. “Great. I’m gonna try to go finish the painting I was working on, but I’ll meet up with you guys sometime later, okay? After Squeaky over here stops squeaking.” 

“Don’t call me Squeaky!” Nico shouted, and then released the loudest, highest-pitched unrestrained hiccup that caused Nico to snap his jaw shut and slap a hand over his mouth. As his face grew to an even brighter shade of red, Will had to force himself not to laugh.

“Alright, I’ll take care of it,” Will assured them both as he held a hand out for Nico to take. “See you, Rachel.” 

Will led Nico up the steps to the Big House and into the separate infirmary door, taking him over to one of the empty cots. As Nico sat down, Will pulled over a stool and sat in front of him. “So, what were you doing when the hiccups started?” Will asked.

Nico shrugged, seeming unwilling to open his mouth lest another massive hiccup escape.

“You’re gonna have to talk sooner or later,” Will told him, but Nico simply shook his head in response. He hiccuped quietly, and glared down at his lap. “Okay, so, you know how Star Wars takes place a long time ago in a galaxy far away? But then Star Trek takes place in the future, so--”

Nico groaned, cutting him off. “Gods, Will, not again.” 

Will grinned. “It worked, didn’t it?”

“I don’t want to talk because the big loud ones are starting to hurt--” Nico’s jaw snapped shut again, and he winced with his next hiccup.

“Do you want to write, instead?” Will suggested, and Nico thought about it for a second before shaking his head. That was probably for the best, since neither of them could read or write very well due to their dyslexia. Will hummed. “You could try signing, but I’m a little rusty, so you’d have to go slow.” 

Nico’s chin dipped down as he squeaked again, and Will grinned. “Was that a yes, or a hiccup?” 

Nico glared. 

“Alright, I’m sorry,” Will said. “Okay, so, what were you doing when the hiccups started?” 

Nico shrugged. He held up one hand, his palm facing toward him, and raised two fingers on his other hand, pointing at his palm from fingertip to wrist. 

Will frowned as he thought. “Reading?” Nico nodded. “You weren’t eating or drinking?”

Nico shook his head, then his hands were moving rapidly, switching from fingerspelling to signing. Rachel was painting. I was reading.

“I thought she said you were keeping her company,” Will remembered. “How were you keeping her company if you were both ignoring each other?” 

Nico rolled his eyes in response, which Will took to mean, you wouldn’t get it. 

“Okay, what have you tried to get rid of your hiccups?” Will asked.

Nico mimed drinking from a glass, then took a deep breath and puffed out his cheeks. Drinking water and holding his breath, Will guessed, which were the first cures on his own mental list. He poked at Nico’s cheek like he was popping a bubble, and Nico’s cheeks deflated. “Okay, I might have to ask around for some other ideas, then, because I only have so many. Have you tried, um...not thinking about it?” 

Nico stared at him blankly.

“Yeah, okay, stupid idea,” Will replied. He got to his feet and Nico followed him with his eyes. “Alright, I think I heard once that you should lay upside down to get rid of hiccups, so… Try that.” 

Nico frowned in confusion and started to lay on the cot with his feet by the pillow and his head at the foot of the bed.

“No, sorry, like this,” Will said, and sat down on the next cot over. He hooked his knees around the edge of the bed and laid across it with his head hanging over the other side. After a few seconds, Nico mirrored his position, and Will snorted. “Your hair looks funny.” He righted himself and observed Nico for a few moments, during which Nico hiccuped three times.

Nico glared at him as if to say, this isn’t working.

“Just hang on for a few more minutes, you little vampire bat. I’m gonna see if that ancient computer in the Big House will load Google.” 

Will left Nico laying there to run into the Big House, and after a short eternity, he managed to load a webpage with supposed hiccup cures. He jotted down a quick list of the most plausible ideas before returning to the infirmary, where Nico was sitting up on the cot.

“Why’d you get up?” Will asked. “I know it wasn’t working, but none of these are gonna work immediately.”

Nico uncrossed his arms and held his hands over his stomach, his index fingers pointing at each other. Hurt. That was a sign Will was definitely familiar with. 

“Oh. Sorry,” Will said, joining him on the cot. “Hopefully one of these will work, then. I ignored anything that mentioned scaring, because neither of us need an accidental panic attack or stabbing today.”

Nico nodded in agreement. 

“Okay, let’s get started.” 

After an hour, they’d exhausted Will’s list. Nico had tried breathing into a paper bag, but got lightheaded, so Will had him stop. He gargled with water, which resulted in Nico hiccuping and inhaling a bit of water, causing him to choke. He ate a spoonful of sugar, and then had to down a full glass of water to get the painful sweetness out of his mouth. If the sugar had cured the hiccups, then the water brought them right back. 

Nico was beyond frustrated, and Will was starting to side with Rachel on the cute vs. annoying hiccup debate. At one point, Will had left the infirmary with a huff, leaving Nico to think he’d finally gotten sick of helping, but he’d returned with a jar of peanut butter and a spoon, practically force-feeding Nico the sticky substance. 

“If this doesn’t work, we might be trying experimental surgery,” Will told him as he angrily crossed the last few attempts off on his list. 

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Nico replied, having given up on not speaking somewhere around the time that Will had suggested he pull on his tongue. He licked his spoon clean of peanut butter, and the two boys waited with bated breath for a few silent moments until…

Hic!

Nico fell back against his pillow with a groan, and Will buried his face in his hands. 

“Go get the scalpel,” Nico told him in full seriousness.

Will nudged Nico to make room, and laid down beside him on the cot. “I’m not cutting you open. There’s gotta be something we haven’t tried.” 

“Death?” Nico suggested. “Haven’t tried dying yet.”

“I’ll put that at the bottom of the list.” 

“Maybe I can bribe Thanatos into taking me before my time. It would be humane. A mercy killing.” 

He hiccuped right next to Will’s ear, causing the healer to flinch. 

Wait, what did he say? A bribe?

Will got off the bed and crossed the room to Kayla’s desk. 

“I’m not eating any more peanut butter,” Nico called after him. 

Will dunked his hand into the infirmary’s swear jar, fishing beneath the American and Canadian currency for one of the drachmas at the bottom of the jar. He brought it back to Nico and offered the money to him. 

“What am I supposed to do with that?” Nico asked.

“Take it,” Will told him. “I’m buying your hiccups from you.” 

“You’re what?” 

“If it doesn’t work, you can put this toward your mercy killing fund.” Will picked up one of Nico’s hands and placed the coin in his palm. “There. I bought your hiccups.” 

Nico blinked. He took a breath. They waited in silence.

“Okay, what the fuck?” 

“It actually worked?” Will asked, laughing in disbelief. “That worked?”

Nico waved his arms between them. “What the fuck!”

Will pulled him in for a kiss, his hands on Nico’s cheeks and his smile brighter than the sun. “I’m letting those slide because there’s no kids around, and I’m worried that if you put that coin back in the swear jar your hiccups will come back, but watch your language, darling.” 

Nico shoved the drachma at Will’s chest. “Take it back.” 

“What? No,” Will replied. 

“This is freaking me out, take it back!” 

“Do you want your hiccups to come back?”

“Well, no, but--” 

“Then keep your money!” Will closed his hands around Nico’s to keep the coin between his fingers. “I bought your hiccups fair and square. No take-backs!” 

Nico was watching Will with wide eyes. “What the fuck is happening?” 

Will rolled his eyes and pulled Nico to his feet. “Alright, I think it’s time for a change of scenery. Let’s go find Rachel and see if she finished her painting yet.”

thanks for reading!!

buy me a coffee

[swiftlylivie]

ayyy i'm so glad you wanna write something for ifwad!!!

Can i request ⌓, ⬤, and ✈ (or whatever combination of those floats your boat) for platonic Alex and Julie? thank you!

send a whump scenario and i will write a drabble (and if you send in alex related ones before midnight in my timezone, i will write them for international fuck with alex day)

⌓: tissues ⬤: being called soft things like baby, sweetheart or honey ✈: reaching out for someone [bonus points if they mumble! their! name!]

can be found on ao3 here

Julie wasn’t sure exactly what she was expecting to see when she entered the studio after school, but it’s safe to say the sight she was met with had been far from anything she could’ve been expecting.

Alex was laying on the couch, blankets pulled all the way up to his chin, and surrounded by so many tissues they could make a whole other blanket. His eyes were glassy and red-rimmed with bags so deep under them, they looked like bruises and his cheeks were flushed, but the rest of his skin was an almost deathly pale. Plus, he was covered in a sheen of sweat that had his hair practically plastered to his skin. And Julie had never felt more concerned in her life. Ever since the boys had come back to life, she tended to worry ... a lot. A lot more than was probably necessary. But she couldn’t help it, they were in just as much danger now as any other human being and she now knew that anything could happen, life could do the unexpected at any time. They may have been given a second chance, but there was no guarantee they would have any more than that. And this was the first time any of them had been sick, or anything out of the ordinary. She was maybe a little beyond worried.  But, she told herself, she needed to stay calm. Alex was the most anxious person she’d ever met, if she start freaking out, it would only make things worse. She took in a deep breath, told herself to calm once more, before she carefully made her way into the studio and called out to him. “Alex?” She spoke gently, stopping in front of the couch and kneeling down slightly. “Hey, are you okay, love?” Alex looked to her, as if noticing her presence for the very first time, and gave a weak smile. “Oh, hey, Jules. Yeah I’m fi - ” But no sooner had the words started to leave his mouth, was he suddenly cut off by a coughing fit that had Julie quickly helping him sit up, one hand gently patting his back and trying her best to just hold him through it as there wasn’t much else to do. He sounded bad, wheezing in between coughs, and when he was finally done, his head came to rest on Julie’s shoulder and the worry she was feeling only increased. “Oh, sweetheart. I think you’re anything but fine.” She spoke, voice still gentle, and Alex made a small, non-committal noise, accompanied by a shrug. She pressed a hand to the back of Alex’s forehead and almost immediately pulled away, letting out a hiss. “Lex, baby, you’re burning up. Do you know what your temperature is?” Alex gave a shake of his head. “No, been pretty much laying here all day. Haven’t felt like getting up to check.”  Julie frowned, looking around the studio, realizing it was just her and Alex in there. “Where are the boys? Do they know you’re sick?” There were still certain legal issues to be sorted out before the boys could be enrolled in school, so they pretty much stayed at the studio all day. It felt very unlike them to just leave Alex in a state like this. “Reg w-went with your dad to that photoshoot and think Luke went busking or something. But they don’t know, haven’t been home all day.” Julie noted how hoarse Alex’s voice sound, like he’d spent the entire day coughing. She let out a sigh. “Okay, okay.” She responded quietly, trying to weigh her options. She knew the best thing to do would probably be call her dad, but she also knew that ‘shoot was three hours away and by the time she got a hold of him and he got home, Alex could be even worse. Going to look for Luke would mean leaving Alex and she really didn’t think he needed to be alone a second longer. Carlos was supposed to be going to a friend’s house after school and spending the night, plus, as much as she loved her brother, she wasn’t sure there was much a twelve year old could really do.  After a bit more thinking, she made her decision. She would do what she could for Alex and just hope it could be enough until her dad, or someone else, was home. She turned to look at Alex now and noticed his eyes had fluttered shut, she couldn’t tell if he was asleep or not, but her voice was still quiet as she carefully said his name. After a few seconds, he opened his eyes, they were still glassy and he just looked so miserable it practically broke her heart. “Hey, sweetie. We’re going to go inside the house, okay?” She gently ran a hand through his hair as she spoke, noting how he leaned into it with a look of relief on his face.  “Why?” He breathed out, his voice hardly above a whisper and if Julie hadn’t been so close to him, she wouldn’t have heard it. “The studio is too cold for you to stay in while you’re like this, it won’t help you get any better. I’d prefer to have in a house with central heating and cooling.” She explained carefully, softly. Alex did nothing more than give a nod in response, which she took as a good sign that he was at least acknowledging her answer.  “Do you think you can make it into the house?” Alex lifted his head off her shoulder now, blinking blearily as he looked around. “Uh, yeah ... think so.” Though he didn’t actually sound too sure. Gently, Julie maneuvered her way around him, standing up and offering a hand out to him. “Alright, well, I’m going to help you, okay? You can lean on me as much as you need to, I promise. Don’t be worried about squishing me or anything.” Alex just gave another nod, and the fact that he didn’t protest this any further was just a sign of how sick he must be. Once Alex was up and leaning against Julie, the two of them thankfully made it into the house with little incident, aside from another coughing fit from Alex that had been so bad he’d almost passed out. But either way, Julie was relieved once they made it throw the front door and into the safety on the house.  She carefully led Alex into the living room, as much as she would prefer to have him in her bed she knew there was no way Alex could handle the stairs right now and she wouldn’t be able to get him up there on her own, and helped him onto to one of the couches. Once he was laying down, she grabbed a blanket and tucked it around him, pulling it up to his chin like he had had in the garage. “Hey, love.” Her voice was still soft and gentle, it hadn’t been anything else since she’d first found Alex. It took a second for Alex to focus on her, and his gaze didn’t even seem that focused. “I’ll be right back okay? I’m going to go get some things for you, but I promise I’m coming back.” And just like all the other times, Alex simply gave a nod in response. Which, Julie was kind of starting to a hate. A quiet and non-responsive Alex felt weird and unnatural. While he was never quite as chatty as Luke or Reggie, one thing that could always be counted on from Alex was a sarcastic or witty response, none of which was happening now. It took for a few minutes to gather everything she needed for Alex, a thermometer so she could actually get an idea of what his temperature was, a cool washcloth for his forehead, and a glass of water and some Tylenol, and when she came back, she realized Alex had actually drifted off to sleep. The last thing she wanted to do was wake him up, but she knew it was very important he take the medicine and she got an actual idea of what his temperature was so she knew if a hospital trip was necessary. She pushed her dad’s computer chair over to where Alex’s head was, sitting down in it before gently beginning to run her hand through his hair, softly calling out his name. After a few seconds, his eyes were blinking open and it looked like he was literally fighting to stay awake and she couldn’t help the tiny sigh that escaped. “Hi, baby, I know you just want to sleep, I know. But I need you to take some medicine for me and I need to take your temperature, okay? I promise it’ll only take a few minutes and then you can go right back to sleep. Can you do this for me, baby, please?”  To her relief, Alex nodded again and she helped him sit up, passing him the Tylenol and the water. Once he swallowed the medicine down, she took the water back (after urging him to take a few more sips) and stuck the thermometer under his tongue. It only took a minute for it to beep and once it did, she breathed the tiniest sigh of relief. His temperature was 102, which was high, but not high enough that she needed to call 911 or anything. Thank god. She helped Alex settle back down, laying the wash cloth across his forehead. She then took her hand and began to run it through his hair once more, feeling him begin to relax under her touch and it was only a few minutes before his eyes were drooping shut and he was drifting off once more. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Julie wasn’t sure exactly how much time had passed, when she was jolted awake by the sound of someone whimpering and calling out her name. It took her brain a few minutes to catch up, for her to realize she had fallen asleep in the chair next to Alex.  Alex, who was sitting up but his eyes were still screwed tightly shut. Alex, who was reaching out, presumably for her, and letting out small whimpers, calling out for her.  Immediately, she sat on the couch next to him, placing a hand on either side of his, noting that at the very least he didn’t feel as warm. “Hey, hey, hey, Lex. Alex, baby, love, wake up. Open your eyes, I’m here. I’m right here. Come on, baby, I just need you to open your eyes for me, okay? I’m here, honey, I’m here. I’m right here.” She was speaking softly, though there was slight hint of franticness to her tone, and she began to brush her thumbs back and forth across Alex’s cheeks. After what felt like an eternity, but in reality was only about a minute, Alex’s eyes fluttered open and he locked eyes with her. “Julie.” Was all he said, before he was practically diving into her arms and she was catching him, wrapping her arms tightly around him and holding as tight as she could without hurting him. “Hey, shhh, Lex it’s okay, baby. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. I got you. I got you.” She began to move her hand in soothing circles on his back, while she angled her head enough to press a kiss to his temple, hoping to just provide as much comfort as she could.  “Do you want to try to lay back down?” She asked gently and she felt him tense in her arms. “I won’t go anywhere. I’ll lay down with you, I promise.” She then felt him nod against her chest. Carefully, she laid them both down onto the couch, and though it was a bit of a tight squeeze, she refused to let go. She wouldn’t break her promise. She continued her motions on his back, and it wasn’t long before the both of them drifted off once more, cuddled as close together on the couch as physically possible. Which was how exactly how Ray, Reggie, and Luke found them a few hours later. None of them had the heart to wake either up, so they just figured they would get the information they needed once both fully were.

[gabywantsafriend]

Anything For You: Ferris Bueller x Reader

(Kinda my gif??? Idk I found it online but I originally posted it on here)

Requested by anonymous:  ferris bueller realizing he loves the reader maybe?

I’m so sorry it took such a long time to post another imagine! I hope you guys enjoy it :’)

Warning: Swearing

“Adams?” “Here.”

“Adamley?” “Here!”

“Adamowski?” A rather lazy hand was raised, indicating the student’s presence. 

“Adamson?” “Here.”

“Adler?” The response was delayed by a couple of seconds. “Here.”

“Anderson?” Another delayed response. “Anderson?” “Here!” 

“Bueller?” 

Nothing. You quickly scanned the room, he wasn’t there. You hadn’t even noticed that he didn’t walk in that morning. You looked at Cameron and he shrugged. Apparently he didn’t know what Ferris was up to or where he was. “Bueller?” Crickets. “Bueller?” Dead silence. “Bueller?” The teacher’s monotonous voice began to sound like a broken record player. 

You cleared your throat as you tried impersonating the missing troublemaker, letting out a low “Here.” The class snickered, causing your teacher to silence everyone. Turning to you, he huffed. 

“L/n, I know you and Bueller are best friends but you really don’t have to cover for him in his absence. You’ll get your turn in the roll call later, don’t get too excited,” He went on with checking the attendance. You stubbornly sank into your seat, eyeing the vacant one next to you where Ferris was usually sat. What kind of trouble do you have in mind this time?

--------

Recess rolled in and you were standing at the phone booth just outside of your school. You dialed Ferris’ home number and waited for him to pick up. He was probably out on another one of his spontaneous adventures.

“Hello?” His voice was nasally,  he was always good at playing sick. 

“Oh, cut the crap. Where the hell are you, idiot? This is your tenth absence this semester, you said you didn’t wanna miss school after last time! No wonder your grades are shit! What are you up to now?” You scolded. Skipping class to hang out and be teenagers was fun the first few times. However as it became a habit of Ferris, you wished he could take school more seriously.

“Y/n, calm down. First of all, I could easily hack into the school’s computer system and change my grades,” He coughed. “Second, I’m not kidding this time. I’m actually sick.” You scoffed, muttering a small “yeah right.” 

Of course, you found it hard to believe. You’ve known Ferris Bueller since you were ten. And you knew that it took a lot for him to be ill. 

“Why would I ever lie to you? I’m serious,” he deadpanned. You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. “Alright, I’ll bring today’s assignments for you and I’ll visit you as soon as class ends.” You could practically hear him smile through the phone as he spoke. “Thanks, Y/n. You’re the best.” You bid goodbye as he did the same, both of you putting down the phone.

Well, what do you know. For the first time in a long time, Ferris Bueller was sick.

--------

You dropped your bike right in front of the Buellers residence and sprinted to the back door. You lifted the rug and took the spare key that Katie Bueller left in case of emergencies or whenever you wanted to visit. You were always welcome. Unlocking the door, you bolted up the steps and stopped in front of the door to your best friend’s room..

“Ferris, you better not be naked. I’m coming in.” 

“Hi, Y/n.” The sight was beyond pitiful: The floor was littered with used tissues. Bottles of medicine decorated his dresser. And on the bed was a very pale boy, sniffling and shivering still even under the many layers of blankets he was covered in. Oh, Ferris.

“You look like shit.” He let out a weak chuckle. “It’s nice seeing you too,” he quipped. You rolled your eyes at his untimely use of sarcasm and pressed the back of your hand to his forehead.

“Jesus, you’re practically steaming,” You commented, getting up to fetch him an ice pack to hopefully lower his temperature. “I’m flattered, Y/n. I really am. But can you keep it in your pants until after I get well?” You were used to his foul-mouthed jokes by now. “Very funny, loser. Now put this on your forehead,” You handed him the cold material and he obeyed, hissing as it touched his skin. 

“Oh, right! I got the homework for you,” you told him, getting your bag and pulling out his books and assessment sheets and laying them on his desk. “I also wrote an extra copy of the notes you missed,” You handed him the pages that you’ve ripped from your notebook where the duplicates were. His eyes, teary from his cold, widened.

“Wha-? But I just asked for you to get today’s assignments! You didn’t have to go an extra mile with taking my notes for me!” He took the papers gratefully, flipping through them. “I’m convinced you’re my guardian angel or some shit! Thank you so much!”

“Anything for you.” 

It was true. You’d gladly and endlessly do anything for him.

You’ve liked Ferris since you first covered for him in fifth grade. 

Young Ferris thought it’d be a good idea to chuck a bouncy ball at Mrs. Ritland, the math teacher you had all despised. Believe it or not, he was an even bigger idiot back when you were ten. She was writing on the chalkboard, back turned to you; the perfect time to strike. The small toy hit the poor lady’s nape. The classroom was suddenly filled with gasps and the sound of laughter. She exclaimed in pain, rage-filled eyes darting from student to student. Before she could even question which delinquent threw the damned thing, you stood up and raised your hand. 

“I did it, Mrs. Ritland!”

Ferris was quick to defend you, chucking another bouncy ball at the woman. “If you even think of punishing her, you’ll have to go through me!”

You were both given a month’s detention and have been inseparable ever since. 

“I’m dying,” He croaked, snapping you out of your daydream.

“Oh, please. You’re not dying. You just can’t think of anything good to do!” You quoted him. “Didn’t you say that yourself?” 

He groaned, “Yes, I did say that myself. But now isn’t the time. I’m really not feeling well, Y/n.”

“Nonsense! It helped Cameron last time, he felt great afterwards.” You got off the bed, trying to pull him up with you. Instead, he snuggled deeper into the covers. “Aww, come on! Get up on your feet, mister! What do you feel like doing today? The weather’s lovely! Maybe we can go swimming? Or perhaps you’d like to go to the arcade? Ooh, street food sounds good! Just tell me where you wanna go, and I’ll take you there!” You coaxed excitedly.

“As much as I love our adventures, I was thinking maybe we could just stay here? You know, we could talk for a while and we can take a nap together just like when we were kids. And when I’m feeling better, we could watch a movie,” Ferris spoke softly, sniffling right after. You hummed, considering his offer.

“You can stay here and rest. I can get us some corn dogs from the stand nearby, I’ll be quick I promi-”

“No, no, you missed my point,” he shook his head, grinning at your stubbornness. “I meant can you stay? We don’t have to go anywhere. I enjoy your company, it’s more than enough,” He pulled the blankets to his nose, hiding his bashful smile as well as his growing blush. You were sure you would have melted then and there.

“Sure thing. Ferris.” You adored this boy.

It had been an hour since you’d agreed to stay in with Ferris and you were seated at his desk, tutoring him about trigonometric functions, a lesson he missed that day. He was reading the notes on the topic, following along with what you were saying. “Okay, I found this to be quite easy. So, we start off with the basics: sine, cosine, and tangent-”

At least, that’s what it looked like.

At first glance, it seemed as though he was actually studying. But what you didn’t know was that he had been admiring your handwriting and your little doodles on the blank spaces of the paper. 

See, Ferris liked you. He’s liked you since forever ago. He remembered the moment so vividly, as if it only happened yesterday. 

“I did it, Mrs. Ritland!”

He looked at you and thought, “Wow, that is the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” Obviously, he couldn’t let a pretty girl such as you take the blame for what a stupid boy such as him had done. It just wasn’t fair to you. So he immediately admitted that it was his fault, as he should.

He felt guilty that you had to get wrapped up in this mess and had to suffer the consequences. To make up for it, every time you had detention, he would take you to secret hideouts around the school. That two months of running around school trying not to get caught marked your first of soon-to-be-many adventures. 

And now here you were, almost eight years later, helping him solve for x. His eyes softened at how into it you were while teaching him. You were even more beautiful than when you were a kid, just when his younger self thought you couldn’t get any more stunning. 

He thought about how you were kind enough to fill him in on everything he’d missed; how as soon as class was dismissed, you biked as quickly as you could just to take care of him. You could have easily ditched him to go out and get those corn dogs you’ve been craving; or you could have easily gone out for a walk since, according to you, “the weather’s lovely.” 

But you didn’t. 

You stayed. 

The mere thought of that, along with everything about you, caused his heart to pound out of his chest. 

I think I’m in love with her. Fuck that. I am in love with her.

“...And that explains why sine 90° is equivalent to 1. What the-? Ferris Bueller, are you even listening?” You waved a hand in front of his face, still not responding. He looked as if his mind was somewhere completely different. “Hello? Earth to Ferris?” He blinked a few times, shaking his head. He whispered something you didn’t quite catch. “What?” He whispered again. “I can’t hear you, pal. Speak up.” 

“I love you. There, I said it.” You were at a loss for words as your eyes met. Both of you progressively got redder by the second.

“What in the right mind made you say that?” Confusion was evident in your voice, as well as nervousness. 

“I’ve loved you for a while now and when you dropped everything to visit me today, I realized how deep I’ve fallen,” Ferris bashfully stated. He could be cheesy at times but you thought it was cute.

“Woah, you are such a fucking sap,” You both burst into laughter, him scoffing and clutching his chest in mock offense. “I love you too, you dingus.”

His heart fluttered as you said it. The mix of his sickness and your confession made him lightheaded. You plopped down on his bed, hugging him tightly. “Wait, what are you doing? You’re too close, I’m gonna get you sick!” He asked as you kissed his nose. 

You got under the covers with him, rolling your eyes, “You think I still care? I fucking love you for Christ’s sake!” You made him laugh at that. “How about that nap you suggested earlier, hmm?”

He closed his eyes, the biggest grin still plastered on his face. “She loves me,” being the last thought in his head before contently falling asleep.