#Still recalling that moment at camp lol

[thot-writes]

i just posted art of my werewolf tav & astarion so y’know what?? take this fic to go along w it. what would astarion/the gang do if u were a lil werewolf (i did not mean for it to get this long lol)

your vampire not-quite-boyfriend + the gang find out you’re a cheeky little pup (act i post-grove);

Lycanthropy wasn’t something you were born into like some. No, like most others bearing the curse you were infected with it. The transformation process was an excruciating, torturous one that is still branded into your very bones.

The bloodlust festers in you, day and night, like a splinter that’s burrowed too deep for you to dig out. It calls for you to rip, tear, dominate— kill. But you can suppress it. Mostly. You refuse to be one of the many werewolves that is controlled only by their base instincts.

But every full moon the beast blood takes you completely, and you have no choice but to transform. You never remember the night after you’ve turned back. Only brief snippets of red, pain, and fur.

Despite not tracking the stars, you can normally tell when a full moon’s coming because your body begins to ache, preparing itself to split open to birth the savage wolf that slumbers within. Usually you’d start your preparations to restrain yourself, to limit the carnage as much as possible.

But these aren’t usual times.

Three weeks ago you were captured from your home by mind flayers and infected with a tadpole, your entire world turned inside out with stranger things happening every day.

You now travel with a Sharran, a githyanki, two ticking time-bombs, a warlock, and a vampire.

One of their spawn, at least. It’s a good thing that in Faerûn, vampires and lycanthropes tend to be neutral towards each other — unlike what the romance novels would have you believe. Otherwise it’d make the regular sex you’re having with Astarion quite awkward.

You’d think that knowing all the sordid details about your travelling companions would bid you to confess your lycanthropy, but you could never find a way to bring it up.

Or, more accurately, you could bring it up you just didn’t want to. Not necessarily out of trauma, just convenience on your part. Confessing lycanthropy normally comes with questions, and the way you were turned is… kind of embarrassing, so you’re never keen to retell it.

But tonight, the moon will tell everyone for you. if you don’t get out in time.

The whole day your blood hammered in your flesh, your head splitting apart in a horrific headache and your bones feeling as if they could break and reshape at any moment. You lied to your companions, insisted you must’ve just drank too much last night at camp, and they bought it. Kind of. You hope.

You retired early for the day and whilst the others lounge about the camp you’re near biting your fingers off in uneasy anticipation of what’s to come. You need an excuse— any excuse to get the fuck out of here before the moon fully rises. You think you have an hour at most before you’re no longer you.

“My, but you’ve been looking ill all day, [Name]. I don’t recall you drinking that much last night.”

You almost jump out of your skin. Your heightened senses of smell and hearing usually help in preventing unpleasant surprises, but not today, not when you’re so on-edge. It was Astarion’s lilted voice that called from behind you. A sweet tune you’re all-too-happy to hear, in regular circumstances.

He gazes at you with that hard-to-read gleam in his eyes. The kind of gleam where you’re not sure if it’s because he knows something, is hiding something, or wants to tease you. You manage a shaky smile in response.

“You weren’t with me the whole night, Astarion. We slept separately,” you attempt.

“That night anyway,” he adds with a pretty little grin on his lips. You notice his gaze flickering over your body. “So you’re saying after I drank from you, you… what? Went back to your tent for some late-night binge drinking? Not that I’m surprised, you seem the type, but even still. Your hangover looks particularly… aggressive.”

You throw your hands up in an exaggerated shrug. “What, are you gonna throw an intervention for me? Gonna beat me up? Write me a letter about how much my drinking affects you?”

He chuckles. “Oh please, as if I care that much. I’m just saying that you seem a little sicker than alcohol would leave you.” He gasps, then presses a hand to his face. “What if you were poisoned? By someone in this very camp? How scandalous! My money’s on the gith.”

“If I was poisoned my money’s on you bitch.”

A grin. He always seems to smile so much in your presence. You wonder how much is real. You wonder if you’re overthinking it, or if you smile just as much as he does.

You’re ripped away from your thoughts as a terrible pain grips you. It takes all your strength not to double over right there— you’ve already drawn too much scrutiny, you don’t want more. You squeeze your eyes shut and hold your trembling hands still as the curse makes itself known. The pain you experience in transforming is what you’d imagine childbirth to be — if you gave birth to a baby out of every pore. You’ve only had this curse a scant few years, how have people managed to live entire lives with it?

Astarion notices your struggle. He tilts his head and looks on. “You really do seem like you’ve been poisoned. Or at least I hope that’s all it is. If you’re sick then I’m afraid you’ll be sleeping alone for a while longer yet, pup. I don’t want… whatever that is.”

You grit your teeth to prevent a cry. “I’m fi—iine!” you grunt. The pain lapses for a moment, this is your chance to leave. “I just— I have—uhh— really bad diarrhoea!”

“What?”

You make a show of holding your stomach and slouching. “Oh man it’s soooo bad right now, I’m probably gonna be shitting up a storm in the forest all night!”

“Gods above, please… spare me the details. Just go.” Astarion waves you off and grimaces at the mental image you’ve conjured for him.

“Okay, I better go have violent diarrhoea everywhere in the forest now— don’t follow me! Don’t look for me! Don’t let anyone look for me! I gotta go, goodnight! Don’t look for me!”

You give him no time to answer as you sprint into the wilderness. Your heart is hammering and your pulse quickening. You feel you only have a few more minutes until…

A scream escapes you before you can stop it, your skin is starting to bulge and split, revealing [colour] fur beneath it. No— not now, you’re still too close to camp— just hold on a little longer.

You gather all the strength you have, which is more than usual with the wolf so near, and run.

-

You’re deep in the wild now. Your screams are more frequent, your body produces sickening crunching sounds as the wolf starts its escape. You collapse to the forest floor, writhing in abject agony as your body tears itself apart. Transforming like this only ever takes a few minutes, but it always feels so infinitely long.

Soon your cries morph into a pained howl, and the birthing process is complete. Your mind has now been banished to the darkest recesses of you, and in its place is a beast.

It’s a blur each time you’re turned like this. When it’s of your own volition the process is simpler, quicker— though no less painful. You can maintain control if you focus hard enough. But the forced transformations are a different experience entirely. There is no control, only hunger. Only fangs, claws, and a deep, insatiable yearning for prey.

Astarion did as you asked. He didn’t search for you, not even when he heard that first scream. The thought of walking in on you… projectile excreting was enough of a deterrent to stay his curiosity.

But hours have passed since then. He couldn’t hear you, there was only quiet. When Gale asked where you were, he simply said you had taken ill. But now Astarion was the only one left awake, and there was still no sign of you.

You had been acting off all day. He didn’t believe it was simply a hangover, he’d seen many in his lifetime but they never caused anyone to disappear into the woods. As far as he knew.

But then… what was this odd subtle tightness settling in his chest? The thought that maybe something had happened to you, and you were no longer safe?

Could it possibly be that he was… worried about you?

He shakes his head. No, of course not. You’re nothing more than a target, a meat shield for if and when things go wrong. He didn’t have any feelings towards you, and certainly not enough to worry.

Astarion stays awake. Not for you, of course— perish the thought— he just wanted to get more reading done. Obviously.

Another hour passes.

Then one more.

Still nothing.

He’s coursing with anxious energy now and gets to his feet. What if you’d been turned into a mindflayer? What would that mean for the rest of them? Because of course it was his own well-being he was concerned for— definitely not yours!

He goes to the tent nearest to him, Lae’zel’s, and shakes her awake.

She grunts and sits up. “Chk, what is it Astarion? Why have you disturbed me?”

“[Name] still hasn’t returned, and dawn’s almost here,” he answers. His voice is a little shaky, but it’s probably because he’s a bit cold. “We should try to find them.”

Lae’zel nods curtly and begins to rise. She slings her sword over her back and says to Astarion, “Wake the others. If [Name] has become ghaik, we will need to put them down.”

A knot forms in his stomach as he turns to rouse the others. He finds himself hoping you haven’t been transformed— then quickly catches himself and buries the feeling.

He wakes them and explains the situation, and the group splits off into pairs to search for you; Wyll and Karlach, Shadowheart and Gale, Lae’zel and Astarion.

One would think someone with your supposed illness would be leaving… traces. But there’s nothing. It was almost like you’d just vanished— until Karlach had found your clothes. There was no blood on them, no damage, no filth (at least no more than usual).

The search continues.

Dawn isn’t far. Just a little longer.

As Astarion and Lae’zel scout together, he catches a whiff of blood in the distance. Animal blood, certainly. But it seems like… a lot. He notifies Lae’zel and they follow the scent, only to come across a mauled boar carcass. It’s practically been reduced to a puddle with how much carnage was heaved upon it, and what’s more…

There’s massive paw prints in the dirt. Soaked in the blood of the boar. Could this creature have hunted you? Is that why you never returned?

They alert the others and follow the tracks, along the way finding great claw marks in the trunks of the trees, various piles of viscera from unfortunate beasts, and small patches of fur. Fur the exact same colour as your hair…

The tracks lead to a small clearing in the forest, and in the middle of said clearing is… you.

Well, not you-you, but the hunkering direwolf-humanoid you turned into.

You’re crouched down, curled into a ball as your mind rends itself in twain. As dawn approaches, so too do your senses begin to return, but the wolf is not ready to relinquish control — it never is. The two of you battle for dominance in a silent struggle, ignorant to the group surrounding you from the trees.

Your werewolf self is a grotesque, fearsome thing, even as you’re lurching in pain. Your fur is an exact match of your natural hair colour, as are your eyes, even though in this form they’re clouded in rage and hunger. If you were stood upright, they’d see how you reached just over nine feet tall, how your hands and paws were lined with razor-sharp claws. Even as pathetic as you are in your current state, you’re still no creature to be trifled with.

Shadowheart steels herself as Lae’zel raises her sword high, prepared to strike you while you’re distracted.

“Abomination,” she spits, venom heavy on her tongue. “Lurk in these woods no longer, you die by my hand.”

She brings the blade down in a wide crescent motion, and you barely move out of the way in time. She’s managed to cut you, but you’re lucky to have missed the brunt of the attack.

You leap away from Lae’zel only to move into Karlach’s range of attack. She strikes you with her battleaxe and you roar as it slices into the skin of your back. Your wound quickly heals, and you spin around to swing a clawed hand in her direction. Your fist meets her side, and she’s flung feet away.

The group— your group— begins their surprisingly well-orchestrated assault, and it becomes clear that, as strong as you are, you cannot hold out for long. Not against all of them. Probably not even against half of them.

But the gods sometimes grant small mercies. The sun finally breaks, the Dawnlord’s radiance has weakened the wolf’s chokehold on you, and you stumble backwards. Your body begins to rapidly decay and break apart, and the others step back and watch the spectacle cautiously.

In less than a minute, the vicious wolf you were has become naught but gore, and underneath is your naked body, soaked in blood.

“What the fuck— [Name]?! I’m not seeing things am I? Tell me I’m not seeing things!” Karlach exclaims, suddenly overcome with guilt at having tried to kill you.

Gale watches in resignation as you limp, holding your beaten and broken body. “You’re not. That’s our [Name], alright. A lycanthrope... What a shock.” Because of course the group can’t have one normal person, can it?

Astarion is simultaneously the most and least surprised at this revelation. “So you’re telling me this entire time I’ve been sleeping with a werewolf? Ugh, there’s a joke about giving a dog a bone in there somewhere, but I’m too tired to think of it.”

You collapse, exhaustion claiming your mind after a long, blood-filled night.

-

When you awake a couple hours later, you find you’re tucked in your bedroll, wounds tended to and dressed once again. How did you get here, you wonder? You leave your tent to find your friends waiting around in a circle by the long-dead fire.

Astarion’s the first to notice you. “Ah, darling, you’re finally awake! I don’t suppose you’d be up for a little chat, would you? I believe we’re owed an explanation.”

You freeze. An explanation for what? Did they find you and take you back here? Do they know what you are?

You don’t have to wait long for an answer.

“After everything we’ve been through, travelling together these last few weeks, I’d have thought we developed enough trust between us. But apparently not.” Gale pauses, then looks you in the eyes. “Why did you hide what you are from us?”

“This fuckin’ world is so fucked up,” you say, folding your arms and scrunching your face. “We got two people with bombs in their chests and a guy who drinks blood but because I turn into a rabid dog once a month I’m the bad guy, really?”

“We’re not saying you’re a bad guy, we’re wondering why you didn’t trust us!” Karlach protests. “We’re supposed to be friends aren’t we?”

You frown a little and slump your shoulders. “We are friends. But we’re already dealing with sooo much bullshit I just thought it’d be better if I dealt with it myself, y’know. I mean it’s not like you can help me with it anyway, cures are hard to find and lycanthropy isn’t as bad as tadpoles and orbs and devils.”

“I’m fine with your condition [Name], so long as you don’t transform in front of me, that is,” Shadowheart chimes. “But aside from that… that wolf form seemed quite formidable. Perhaps we can make use of it, now that we know.”

Astarion claps his hands excitedly. “Oh yes! I’d love to see that! Werewolves can be quite vicious you know, always good fun to see the hounds on a hunt.”

Shadowheart turns to him. “You’re not mad that your lover’s a werewolf, Astarion? I’d have thought you’d be more upset, as a vampire and all.”

He rests a hand on his hip and half heartedly inspects his nails. “Oh please, werewolves and vampires are just as likely to be allies as they are to be enemies. Cazador has had so many wolf pets over the years, I suppose it was only a matter of time until I got my own.”

“You’ve got it ass-backwards Astarion, if anything you’re my pet vampire,” you tease.

“How dare you! Here I thought puppies were supposed to be cute and obedient,” he cries in mock offence.

“Says the one who gets on all fours for a dog—”

Gale clears his throat loudly and claps his hands. “Ahem! Alright, now that that’s settled, I hope there won’t be anymore surprise revelations about the members of our group. Gods know we have more than enough of them to last a lifetime. Shall we get on? We have a long day ahead.”

It’s of a great relief to you that they didn’t ask too many questions, though you somehow suspect you’ll be telling them the humiliating story of your infection someday soon. In such a short time, you’ve grown fond of your new friends, and even fonder for a certain vampire…

And you’re sure you have a long, long road ahead of you yet.

[cryptictongues]

Purrfect Medicine

pairing: Joshua Rosfield x Fem!Reader rating: G word count: 4.2k summary: You find a stray cat and Joshua doesn't know how to feel. warnings: This is straight up fluff!

Author’s Notes: Remember when I posted a poll a while back and this and that Clive smut won? Well, here is this one LOL sorry for the wait!

Please read my pinned post before following me! Minors and ageless blogs will be blocked as this blog’s content is NSFW.

[AO3 Link]

The deadlands near the Northern Territories were dreary and dark, something that the realm has become far too familiar with in recent years. Its void of life has created an eerie stain on the map of Valisthea; a tell-tale sign to people that nothing good survives there with its lack of resources. Joshua knew this, yet you had somehow convinced him to set up camp for the night right in the heart of them.

It wasn’t something the both of you had planned for, being that he wanted to get to Prince Dion sooner rather than later. However, you had insisted on stopping for the night when he started to cough non-stop, wheezing more and more with each stretch of travel. He knew you wouldn’t take no for an answer, the stubborn being that you are, and he wasn’t in any mood to argue. The last thing he remembers was you setting up the tent around him as he went in and out of consciousness, sleep taking over his brain until he was no longer present mentally. Now, as his mind starts to wake up, his first instinct is to locate your figure. He didn't sense any movement and the sounds of the deadlands were silent. Sitting up quickly, fast enough to make him dizzy, he pulls back the flap of the tent to see everything has been set up for the night, except you were nowhere to be seen. 

Joshua groans. He can’t believe you ran off alone again. After telling you numerous times to not leave his sight, you still don’t listen. While marching to the beat of your own drum is a trait he admires greatly, it drives him absolutely insane at the same time. It is times like these where he wishes his body didn’t fail him so greatly; to have the energy to take care of himself better. It would save him a lot of trouble for himself, but for you especially.

Joshua has known you since the two of you were kids. You were kept in the medicine houses, learning how to heal Rosarian soldiers as the time for war was upon them. He recalls being there a lot as a kid, being as sick as he was. He would always watch you as you watched one of the healers work on him, concentrating on what to do and use for certain ailments. He was charmed the moment he saw you, his chest fluttering in ways he didn’t quite understand at the time. 

Those were the only times he saw you. The two of you hadn’t spoken any words to each other unless needed for assessing, and that was that. It wasn’t until after the events of Phoenix Gate, where he remembers vague images of someone pulling him out of the rumble and loaded onto a carriage, where the girl who made his heart flare worked on him all the way until they went into hiding under the protection of the Undying. Long story short, being the only two children in isolation from the rest of the world made it very easy to become fast companions and the Undying declared you his guardian for his travel due to such a bond. Not that he would have accepted any other answer, for you knew him like the back of your hand. 

Which means he knew that you knew leaving with no warning would upset him, especially out in the deadlands.

Joshua walks out into the open, starting to pace back and forth unknowingly. You have done this before and have turned up just fine. But the what ifs, the what ifs that fill his mind with dread, make him uneasy with the same questions. Does he go searching for you? Does he stay put? What would you do if he left with no sign? It is the same cycle over and over again.

“If you keep pacing like that, this stop will have been for not.”

Joshua whips his head around to see you standing a few feet away, smiling at him like you weren’t just gone for who knows how long. He takes a long, good look at you, examining to make sure nothing is out of place. But you looked just as you did when he passed out; clean and unscathed. 

“I wouldn’t pace if you would just listen to me for once.” He grimaces. 

All you did was smile at him, eyes turning into crescents as you walked towards him. “I apologize, Your Grace. I was out finding some herbs for your well-being, but I am sure you can assume how that went.”

“Well, my darling, this is the deadlands. One can assume that means everything is dead.” He feels his lip wanting to curve into a smirk, but he represses it. He can’t let you keep getting away with this: scaring him and shifting his mood back the minute he sees you. He wants to say more, but the second he starts to move his lips, he hears a chirp come from your satchel. 

You laughed amusingly, from what Joshua can assume is his reaction to the noise. He watches you reach for the latch, opening it slowly. “If everything is dead, care to explain this?”

He watches the satchel move slightly, and then sees two black ears pop up. A moment later, he sees piercing green eyes, and not a moment too soon he sees a pink nose and whiskers. He is at a loss for words as he stares at a black cat. A bloody black cat.

“Isn’t he cute?” You exclaimed, removing the satchel from your body and setting it on the ground, revealing the cats full form. “I found him hurdled in a crevice off the outer cliff. I didn’t see any other cats, so I guess he is all alone.” 

Joshua looks at the cat closely. “How do you know it is a boy?”

You smirked at him. “I can show you if you want.” You go to pick the cat up and immediately it clicks what you were about to do.

“No need!” Joshua rushes out, his face heating up from the embarrassment of his outburst, causing you to burst out laughing. 

“You should see the look on your face!” You laughed, sitting down in the process and letting the cat crawl into your lap. “I was thinking of what we should name him. Lance short for Lancelot? Crow? Maybe something more common like Bernard?”

Joshua’s eyes go wide. “Don’t tell me we are keeping him.”

“Well, why not?” You shrugged. “He could be the best healer in the group, especially if I train him.”

“My love, he is a cat.” Joshua states the obvious. He doesn’t even know the first thing about taking care of a cat. Sure, he knew how to take care of a Chocobo and even a frost wolf, but a cat? That was out of his range. 

“Cats can be wonderful companions, if you let them.” You smiled, slowly cradling the black ball of fur in your arms as you stood up. You walked over to him, holding the cat up by your face to give the most puppiest of eyes. “Come on, Joshua. Can we please take him with us? I’ll take care of him just like I take care of you. Besides, just you wait! I will make him the best healer you’ve ever seen!”

Joshua doesn’t want to give in, but the more he looks at you, the more his willpower crumbles. He hates how easily he folds for you, and as he continues to stare at you and the cat, he knows he has lost this battle. With a long sigh, Joshua nods in defeat. “Fine, but please, for the love of Greagor Herself, don’t run off again by yourself.”

In an instant, he feels your plush lips kiss his cheek. He watches as you buzzed with excitement, holding the cat close to you. “Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU, Joshua! You will not regret this!” 

He is going to regret this.

-

It had been a week since Crow, the name you decided to give your furry friend, was found. Like you had promised, you’ve been very good at taking care of both him and Joshua. Joshua was impressed with your ability to multitask between two beings. However, what was starting to crawl over him like a green second skin was all the fault of the little feline.

Joshua admits that Crow is very well-behaved. He doesn’t run off anywhere he isn’t supposed to. He is relatively quiet, letting out a meow or a chirp if he is hungry or wants some attention. He doesn’t get upset being carried in the satchel you carry, quite the opposite really. Joshua has noticed that Crow is quite keen on keeping his head perched over the bag to watch the surroundings during travel. There is nothing to complain about, except for one major thing: how much he got your attention. 

The first night, you had been curled up into Joshua’s side, per usual, with Crow settled at your feet. It wasn’t until he woke up the next morning that he noticed your warmth seemed further away and saw you lying flat on your back with Crow curled on top of your chest. Joshua remembers a glimmer of jealousy in his heart but set it aside quickly. It is just one night. This will not be common practice.

Until it did. It always started the same and ended the same. Joshua started to loathe the damn cat, and he felt silly for it. “It’s a bloody cat!�� He thought. He should not feel such negative feelings towards it, but every time he pushes the jealousy out, it rolls back ten-fold.

Joshua is walking side by side with you, the two of you trailing the Crystal Road, getting closer to where the two of you need to be. Joshua is deep in thought, negative swirls of green dancing around his head, when he feels a small bump against his leg. He ignores it, thinking he got too close to your bag, when he feels it again.

He looks down to see Crow looking up at him, eyes wide and mouth curled. Joshua watches him bump his head against his leg, only to look back up at him with his big green eyes. 

Joshua is stumped. Is he hungry? Can he feel the negative energy enclosing in his brain? Can cats do that? 

“Um… dearest…” Joshua says softly, not wanting to disturb the peaceful walk. 

“Hmm?”

“Crow wants something.”

Joshua and you stop in the middle of the road, and you spread the bag apart. “What’s up, little guy?” 

You scratched his head, and Crow started to purr. You chuckled, looking at Joshua who was standing there feeling lost. 

“You are so knowledgeable, yet so clueless.” You smirked. “He wants attention. He wants you to pet him.”

“Me?” Joshua asks, seriously questioning how that could be true. Crow hadn’t been craving his attention; it had been yours.

“He wants you to scratch his head. He loooooves that.” You drawled out. “Go on. Just like this.”

You scratched his head around his ears, demonstrating to Joshua how to proceed. He hesitantly lets his fingers run across the back of Crow’s head, just petting him at first to get a feel for how he will react. Crow pushes his head into Joshua’s fingers, which encourages him to start moving his fingers back and forth quickly. 

Joshua couldn’t believe his luck. Crow was purring at the attention he was getting, and it made Joshua grow bolder. He starts to scratch down under Crow’s neck, making him lift his neck further for more room. In a way, this felt very therapeutic to him. It’s as if the twangs of jealousy that filled his head left within seconds, putting a smile on his face.

He hears a small chuckle, and he looks up to see you smiling behind your hand. He perks up, still scratching Crow in the process. “What’s so funny?”

“It just seems like the sun has decided to come back out.” You dropped your hand, letting it reach for his free one. “You seemed rather gloomy as of late. I’m just happy to see you smile genuinely."

“I apologize,” Joshua followed up with. “I have so much on my mind.” It wasn’t a lie, of course. He did have a lot on his mind, but he doesn’t have the courage to admit that the main thing getting to him was jealousy due to a damn cat.

“I know, but that’s why you have me. You know I’m always here for you.” You swayed, pulling him in a little closer.

Joshua hums and brings his hand to your face. With a gentle grasp, he pulls you in for a soft kiss, reminding himself that you are indeed here for him. He knows you wouldn’t put yourself in such a dangerous position if you didn’t feel strongly for him. 

The kiss is interrupted by another head bump, causing Joshua to pull away. He hears you laugh and next thing he knows the satchel strap is over his shoulder, the cat in the bag right by his right leg. 

“I’ll let you carry him for a while. He seems to want your affection.” You grin. He laughs softly and takes your right hand to press on the long, winding road with his right hand in the cat bag.

-

Joshua and you made camp, and for once he thought it best to stop for the night. It wouldn’t be long before the two, well three of you, reach the Crystal Belt, so some time to gather himself in preparation for his meeting with Dion sounded best. 

Joshua was settling into the tent, waiting for you to come join him. He had started to help clean for an early start tomorrow, but you insisted he go ahead. While he usually would insist right back to keep his gentleman roots intact, he could feel the long day weighing on his eyelids and chose to let your stubbornness flourish for the night. 

His eyes were starting to flutter shut, until he heard the soft patter of paws near him. He opens his eyes to see Crow staring at him, or at least what he can see of him. His black coat completely camouflages him into the shadows of the night, but his green eyes glimmer in the dark.

Joshua sits up on his elbows, hesitant to move. He watches Crow observe him, the cat's head tilting by the way the eyes become diagonal from one another. Petting Crow in a bag, where he is secure, is one thing. To engage with him where he can make any move he wishes is another. While Crow has been friendly, it has been when you were around. This is the first time he has been alone with the feline, and he doesn’t know how to act. 

Crow had gotten noticeably closer and was now at the crevice of Joshua’s left arm. He stiffed when he felt Crow sniffing him, goosebumps rolling over his body in anticipation. Great Greagor, he is going to jump me. However, not only did that not happen, but the next thing Joshua sees is Crow let out a yawn, stretching his whole body in the process, before falling on his side with his head laying in between Joshua’s elbow. Small breaths can be heard as Crow starts to relax further, causing Joshua to relax with him. He lays back down, getting more on his side so he is in a comfortable position that allows room for Crow to stay undisturbed from his slumber. Carefully, he pulls Crow closer to him, making him snuggle more into his arm. 

“This isn’t so bad.” Joshua thinks, a small smile forming on his lips. His mom never allowed Torgal to sleep with him as a child, her excuse being the wolf dander would deplete his immune system more than it already was. To have an animal so close to him is comforting. It makes him feel oddly safe, even when he feels safe in your company. 

He hears the tent flaps open, and the moonlight shines into the tent. He sees your expression as you look at him and Crow, and his heart melts at how your eyes lit up. He watches you tie the flap so it is slightly ajar, and then watches you crawl in. You sit criss-crossed beside him, very obviously admiring the scene occurring. 

“Well, isn’t this a sweet surprise?” You said smugly, arms crossed.

“Yeah,” Joshua lightly laughs. “I guess I can understand why you would want to sleep with him and not me.”

“Awe, was My Lord jealous of the little pussy cat?” You pouted jokingly, and all Joshua can do is groan. He knows it is silly, but he can’t deny it.

“I won’t deny my feelings, though rather immature.” He huffs lightly, looking down at the sleeping ball of fur. He moves his hand to stroke the black fur of Crow’s side, his mood lighting up even further. “This is strangely healing, however. I don’t blame you.”

“Well, you can now have a turn with him. He is a great sleepmate.” You moved to set up a side for yourself, but Joshua carefully reached for your arm causing you to turn to him quizzically. 

“I have a proposition, being that you join us instead of sleeping alone tonight.”

The warmth in your eyes at his statement makes his heart leap, knowing your answer before it slips your lips. He watches you undress to the undergarments that lie beneath your outer clothes, and lifts the covers when you go to lie beside him. He intertwined his legs with yours, both of your bodies getting as close as possible without crushing Crow. His forehead touches yours, inhaling with an ease he hadn’t felt in a while.

“What is it?” You asked, concern in your tone.

“Nothing,” Joshua mumbles, his left arm cradling Crow to his chest and his right hand settling on your waist. “This is just nice.”

You both fall asleep to the soft hum of Crow’s breathing.

-

Joshua’s perception of Crow has changed gradually as you all traveled. When he feels his mood sour, it’s like Crow knows and works to get his attention, and suddenly Joshua feels 100 times better. Crow was therapeutic, in a way, so traveling with him wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. If he was being honest with himself, he felt rather happy when Crow begged for his attention. 

There had been a change of plans in the journey to Prince Dion’s camp. On the belt of the Crystal Road, Joshua had started to feel worse for wear. His coughing had grown rougher and more painful, more blood coming out of his lungs. His chest wound was growing bigger by the day. He knows he is running out of time, so he had insisted that the journey must continue. Once again, however, you did not listen. Which is why he is now laying in a bed at the Dalimil Inn. 

“We really need to get a move on, dearest. We need to get to Dion.” He tries to sound healthy, but even he isn’t dumb enough to think he sounds convincing. He starts to move, wanting to sit up, before another round of coughing rushes out of his lungs.

“Yeah, and you struggling to stay up right is going to help us get there faster.” You snarked, still light hearted nonetheless.

Joshua wishes to retort, but he doesn’t have it in him. He falls back with a groan, his brain pounding and chest tight. He knew keeping Ultima locked away would be hard, but the agony that comes with it is more than he could have realized. Being naturally ill doesn’t provide any immunity to pain, and Joshua was learning the hard way.

You come into his vision, and like the angel you were, you pull the covers over him. Tucking him in like you were his baby, you pressed a kiss to his forehead, which Joshua relished in. He won’t admit it to you, but he has always loved being taken care of. 

“I’m going to run out to the market and find some minerals and herbs for your medicine. I’ll also get you some food as you should eat something.” You twirled a piece of his hair, only to drop it to brush your fingertips against the baby hairs that meet his forehead. “Crow will be here to keep watch.”

Joshua turns his head slightly to see Crow sleeping in the desk chair beside the bed, curled up into the seat. He knew he had to be tired, and a weird sense of envy seeped into Joshua’s bones. He wishes he could sleep with such ease. 

Fingertips graze his chin, rotating it until he meets your eyes again. The way you are looking at him makes his chest feel lighter, even with the chaos and muck that stirs within. Your skin on his soothes him, and he can’t help but to lean into your touch. His eyes flutter shut, and he hears you hum softly. “Try to get some rest. I shall return to you soon.” 

Light pressure sets against his lips, lasting for a few seconds, before releasing. He listens to your steps, and continues to listen after the door shuts. The faintness of your steps disappear, but Joshua still hears them in his mind. The soft pitter-patter of your light feet tap away, and slowly pulls him into a deep sleep.

-

Even in the few moments before Joshua’s slumber ends, he can sense a difference within himself. He feels as if his chest is heavier than before, but not as it was before. The angry flourishes of pain have settled to a dull ache, something he isn’t accustomed to these days. There is a peacefulness that has taken homage, and it is the most calm he has felt in the last few days. The heaviness on his chest is comforting. It felt like the times he would wake up with your head on his chest, with deep breathing that vibrated his being. 

In the early stages of being awake, he reaches for his chest expecting to feel your hair against his skin. His fingers brush against what he believes to be hair, until his brain reminds him that it isn’t coarse and surely doesn’t rise and fall. His eyes snap open, sleepy delirium resolved as he comes face to face with black fur. The light in the room had dimmed slightly, meaning it had been approximately two hours since his slumber. Sometime during the duration, Crow had taken it upon himself to rest on Joshua’s chest.

Crow was purring insistently loud, his eyes crescented as he rests with his body curled. Joshua couldn’t explain it, but the vibrations soothed the violent thumping that would make him stumble with each step. His whole body felt as if he had found an oasis; like he had discovered something that quenched his relief. Or more so, Crow had discovered how to help him. 

Joshua scratched Crow’s head, getting behind the ears, making the black feline purr louder and lean into his hand. He could feel a lump in his throat, for somehow, a cat had come to his aid. A cat took one look at him and knew how to help him. Who knew such a remedy would treat him so diligently and work so well. He presumes Greagor knew what She was doing when you had come across the ball of fur; a healer with a healer cat. 

Joshua was so immersed with Crow’s abilities, that the sound of the door opening and closing hadn’t caught his attention. It isn’t until he feels movement at the end of the bed that his head shoots up to see you with the biggest grin on your face.

“What did I tell you?”

“Regarding?” Joshua asks, confused as to why you are looking at him with such glee.

“I told you I’d make him a great healer!” You cheered enthusiastically. “Look at you! I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look as comfortable as you do right now.”

“You’ve trained him well.” He continues to pet Crow, moving his fingers down to scratch under his neck. “However, I do believe you said he’d be the best healer I’d ever seen. I’ll admit I stand corrected, for he may even be a better healer than you.” He jests, knowing it’ll rile you up.

You gawked at him, “If he wasn’t lying on your chest right now, I’d make you take that back.”

“You can remove him if you’d like. I’d like to see what you’d do.” He draws out lewdly, loving how you are reacting to his quips. 

“Whatever, you perv.” You laughed, moving to crawl beside him. You had gently wrapped an arm across him, right behind where Crow lays. Your head is now beside his and he can’t help himself as he leans in to kiss you. The two of you stay like that for a while, enjoying the tranquility of the moment before the three of you prepare to experience the rough world out there. 

Him, his lady, and their cat.

[fleurrreads]

hi b!

i was wondering if maybe i could request something angsty w steve?

thinking maybe of something like … unrequited love? or you feel like it’s unrequited?

(i absolutely SUCK at requesting i apologize)

★ right person, wrong time

an: hi lovely! i went through it with this request lol. i hope you like it ♡

warnings: angst and some more angst

tick tick tick

The day is going excruciatingly slow. You’re counting down the minutes before the school day is over. Just ten more minutes. Ten more minutes until your life hopefully changes for the better.

The plan is simple. You’ll go to Family Video after school, ask Steve out on a date and then hopefully he’ll say yes and you’ll have the best day of your life.

You try to push away the lingering anxiety that he won’t reciprocate your feelings. Pushing all the contents on your desk in your bag when the bell signals the end of the day. Hands sweaty as you stop by your locker to gather some things for the weekend.

Your locker door gets pulled open abruptly, Robin facing you with a smile. “Soooo? How are we feeling? You ready to confess your undying love to Stevie boy?” She wiggles her eyebrows and you laugh nervously. “I’m ready. As ready as I’ll ever be at least.” You’re trying not to think too hard about it.

The walk to Family Video was probably the most tiring and nerve wracking that you’ve ever experienced. On the way you’ve been recalling all the times you’d tell Steve how you knew you fell in love with him.

‘That one time you were still working at Scoops Ahoy and you gave me that ice cream for free because you saw the look on my face and just wanted to see a smile on my face.’

‘And the time when we went camping as a group and my tent just wouldn’t cooperate and you set it up for me without any complaints.’

‘And then of course the countless times you call me ‘pretty girl’ when you pick me up from school.’ You feel confident that he has to feel the same. It can’t be a coincidence that he’s never helped Robin like that.

Your feet stop infront of the video store and your heart beats madly in your chest. Robin stops you and spins you around before you can spot Steve in the store. A panicked expression washing over her face. Your heart sinks. “What’s wrong Robin?” You try and turn around to face what she’s looking at but she turns you back to face her. “Nothing. Uhm- I just forgot to tell you that I needed your help on this project of mine. Maybe we should uh… maybe we should go to my place first and finish it. Yeah! That’s a great idea!” She’s rambling, she’s nervous. You shove her hands away from you lightly, turning around and looking into the shop.

Robin was right. We shouldn’t have been here now. My heart feels like it’s breaking in a million pieces.

Steve is stood infront of the counter, a blonde girl standing next to him — kissing him. You see Steve smile into the kiss, grabbing her by the back of her head. You feel funny, the world is spinning as you stumble away from the store. Robin’s grim expression makes you feel even more embarrassed. She was rooting for this to go successfully. Did she know about the girl?

“Who is she Robin?” your voice is wobbly from the tears threatening to spill. “Did you know he was seeing her?” your embarrassment is on an astronomical level as you recall all those moments you thought he was showing you he liked you. Pfft, what a joke.

The hesitation in Robin’s voice is the final straw. You don’t look at her as you turn on your heel and make your way home. You don’t notice Steve watching the whole thing unfold with the blonde now walking around the store. Robin yelling your name after you.

As soon as you get home in the comfort of your own space you break down. The sobs now racking your frame as you fall to the floor. After a few jagged breaths you throw your bag’s contents on your bed. The letter you wrote Steve being right on the top. You rip it into four before throwing it in the trash bin.

Your heartbreak turned into despair. You were a fool to think that he would ever like you. Why did you think he’d ever go for you? You should’ve known better.

You cried yourself to sleep that night.

You hadn’t contacted Robin the entire weekend. You couldn’t face her. So as Monday rolled around you dreaded going to school. You barely ate anything at all, your cheeks were hollow and eyes baggy. You’re tired.

Robin tries talking to you before your Chemistry class, but you ignore her — choosing to sit at the table furthest from her. Away from everyone.

At lunch you sit with Dustin and the Hellfire Club. No-one asked anything as you sat down, quietly eating your meal.

Last period rolls around and Robin finally gets the chance to talk to you. “Please, talk to me. I’m so sorry for what happened. I didn’t know he was fooling around with that girl. Please you have to believe me, I didn’t know.” Robin is pleading, desperate. She scolded Steve when you left that day. ‘How could you not tell me you were serious with her?’ to which Steve replied, ‘Who? The blonde? We’re not.’ Robin was just as mad as you were. Steve could be so oblivious sometimes. So she told you everything. What he said and how he was just desperate because he hasn’t had a girlfriend in months.

Your brows furrowed. Has he always been like that? Was that why he was nice to you? Because he was bored and desperate? Robin sighed, her frustration also evident on her face. “Please try the confession again, I hate seeing you like this.” You laugh sarcastically. “Are you serious right now? I can’t do that, no.”

Something flashes in Robin’s eye, and she nods, understanding that was a silly question. “Steve’s picking us up today by the way.” She says it hesitantly. You look down, your shoes giving you some silent encouragement that you’d be able to face him today.

You see his car before you even step foot out of the building. Robin walks you towards the car, holding your hand in reassurance. You stop dead in your tracks before you can open the car door. “I can’t do this. Pretend i’m okay. Pretend i’m not hurt. I don’t belong here. I don’t want you to have to choose between us, because that would be unfair towards you. He didn’t technically do anything wrong. Just tell him i’ve been sick or something. I’ll walk home from now on.” You breathe a relieved sigh and walk towards the school again, tears spilling from your eyes.

You were wrong. Your heart fell in love with someone it shouldn’t have.

Steve watches from the car as you wipe your eyes, as Robin gets in the car. “What was that? Is she not coming with us?” He hasn’t heard from you in three days which was unusual for you. Robin puts on her seatbelt, sighing sadly. “She won’t be driving with us anymore. She says she prefers walking now. Something about exercise.” Steve picks out on the obvious lie but chooses to ignore it for now.

Steve thinks of how he was going to ask you to watch a movie with him that previous friday when that stupid blonde came into the store and kissed him for a bet and ruined his plans. He saw the look in your eyes when you walked away that day.

His heart ached as he drove away. He blew his shot, the only one he seemed to really care about. This one shot with you, and now that was gone too.

[randoms-fandoms]

Hi I had a request for Scott from twisters x reader

She’s an artist that works for Tyler’s team and she likes to sketch everything any anything she finds interesting and she ends up sketching Scott and the team seems to notice and someone (Tyler Boone Kate etc) let it slip to Scott who thought his feelings were unrequited leading to him to awkwardly confess his feelings to her :)

Sorry this took a minute! I’ve also been working on my longer ao3 twisters fics lol :P anyway!

Just a little warning for swearing lol

Relationship: Scott x Female! Reader

Contrary to what many casual storm chasers may assume about the Wranglers, they held no contempt for career chasers. Folks who were on business, got payed good money for risking their lives— StormPAR, of course, being this year’s friendly competition.

Scott would never admit it, but he was grateful for this. As much as he liked to roll his eyes and shake his head at their loud music, obnoxious streams, hordes of fans— there was one thing he really, really liked about the Tornado Wranglers. Well, one person.

You. You were one of three young women chasing alongside Tyler— of course he thought you were gorgeous, and absolutely brilliant when it came to storm chasing, but what he really admired about you was your appreciation for beauty.

As an artist, you knew how to find something worthwhile in every location you found yourself in. Every time he saw you, you had your sketchbook in hand, capturing the way an anvil was billowing on the horizon, or the delicate shape of a dandelion popping up on the edge of a parking lot. It was almost aloof, how you politely excused yourself from crowds of fans to instead sit in the grass nearby, or perched in the bed of Tyler’s truck, all by yourself, lost in your own world— and it was absolutely magnetic to him.

Scott was watching you now, sat cross-legged in the grass outside of a small diner, through the grimy window as he boredly listened to Javi talk business with Riggs. He wished he could just go talk to you, but there was no way he could do that… he sighed, thinking back to the first time he saw you.

He’d only grown aware of you maybe a week ago, when Javi convinced him to watch one of the Tornado Wranglers YouTube videos— but he fell fast.

“Pretty cool, huh?” Javi had said. “I like the aerial shots, really gives you an idea of the scale.”

Scott blinked. “Our PAR shit is cooler,” he replied after a moment— he wasn’t paying attention to any of the actual tornado chasing content, now that you were on screen, proudly showing off a page in your sketchbook. It was an impressive drawing of the twister, perfectly illustrating the movement and power of the thing.

Your smile was distracting though, he thought as he watched your lips pull upwards, your eyes warm ever so slightly, gazing into the camera— it was like you were looking at him. He felt his face warm with a self conscious blush, and he turned off his iPad.

“Whatever.” He said, as if he wasn’t committing your name to memory. The Wranglers are chasing in Oklahoma this season, Scott recalled. I wonder if we’ll see them. Guiltily, he hoped.

Days passed, and you and your team had made the long road trip from Little Rock, Arkansas to middle-of-nowhere Oklahoma. Lily hated being in the car for too long, but you didn’t mind it as long as you had your art supplies with you. She’d put on some music and the two of you would talk and laugh while you sketched the landscape, the buildings, the sky— anything that caught your eye.

But after six hours in the car and an exciting stream, even you were feeling a little weary— still, as the sun went down in the parking lot of that night’s motel, you wanted to enjoy the moment. The air was warm but not too hot, humid but not unpleasantly so, and the sound of crickets and distant fireside singing put you in a good mood.

You were sat in your camp chair beside the Ram, listening to Dexter explain to Ben about how Doppler machines work, absentmindedly gazing up at the thousands of stars— that’s when you saw movement out of the corner of your eye.

It was a man, hastily leaving his motel room. “Yeah, I’ll be back in a minute, I just gotta check my email— the wifi in here is so slow, I gotta head to the front.” You heard his voice float across the parking lot as he spoke over his shoulder, closing the door. He pulled out his phone and headed in the direction of the reception area of the motel, but he paused before he got there and just sat on the curb.

He was cute, you decided. Neat dark hair, nice jawline, prominent dimples appearing as he pursed his lips— even glaring down at his phone in annoyance, he was handsome.

Absentmindedly, glancing back and forth between him and your page with a smile on your face, you began to map out the features of his face.

The man started typing on his phone, frowning and leaning forward more, resting his arms on his knees. He didn’t fit in at all with the rest of the crowd in the parking lot, in his tidy white polo shirt and slacks.

You continued sketching out the lines and shapes of his build— muscular arms, long legs, broad shoulders— as you shaded in his brown hair, you came to a bothersome realization.

If he’s with StormPAR, he probably wouldn’t want to talk to me. It was no secret that StormPAR liked to keep their distance from the crowd you rolled with, groups who chased storms as a hobby. You frowned, tracing over the lines of his eyebrows again. I wish I could just talk to him… Oh well. you sighed, closing your sketchbook and standing up to head to the room you were sharing with Lily and Dani.

“Night,” Boone said. You glanced back, bidding him goodnight, attributing his playful smile to the beer he’d been drinking— you didn’t see that he’d been watching over your shoulder as you drew, after all.

The next morning, Boone had a plan. Maybe it was a bad idea, and maybe Tyler had discouraged him, but it was just too good to pass up.

Scott, meanwhile, was busy feeling sorry for himself, cornered in a booth with an investor.

“Heya, StormPAR.” Came a friendly voice from behind him. He and Javi both turned to look.

“We’re busy, Boone.” Javi said. Scott was surprised by the familiarity of it— are they friends? He wondered if maybe that meant that he could befriend you.

“I’ll get outta your hair, I just gotta talk to Scott for a sec’. It’s real important.” He grinned, and Scott raised his eyebrows. Riggs frowned.

Eager to just speed things along, Javi turned to Scott. “Do you mind?”

Scott didn’t. “No, it’s cool, I’ll catch up with you two later.” Javi stood, and Scott scooted out of the bench to follow Boone outside. The other man took a long sip of his hot cocoa.

“What is it?” Scott asked, adjusting his cap to shield from the bright sun as he squinted down at Boone.

“Are you single?”

That caught Scott entirely off guard. He felt his face warming up with a self conscious blush, glancing around to make sure nobody was around them. “The hell are you asking that for?” He asked, voice lowered.

Boone shrugged, smiling. “I know someone who likes you, that’s all.”

Scott sighed. “It’s not you, is it?”

“Nope, I’m already spoken for.” He winked. “My friend over there, though—“ he nodded in your direction. “She thinks you’re cute.”

Scott felt a funny feeling in his chest, nervous and shy and unfamiliar— it had been a long time since he’d felt like that. “…How do you know?” He whispered, all petty hostility abandoned.

“She’s an artist, y’see— an’ every time we talk about, every time I ask her ‘bout her inspiration and shit, she always says the same thing.” He shook his head contentedly. “‘I just draw what catches my eye,’” he said, giving an impression of your voice.

“And she…”

“Last night, she was drawin’ a picture of you.” Boone looked up at Scott with a smile. “Ain’t that cute?”

Scott didn’t know what to say. Of course it is, he thought, but he could never say that out loud, not to Boone of all people. So he just nodded. “I’m going to go talk to her,” he said decisively.

You always got so stuck in your head while drawing, focusing on nothing but the subject and your page. It took you a moment to realize someone was calling your name, but when you did, you startled and hurried to stand up.

“Sorry, I was—“ You paused when you turned around, realizing exactly who was talking to you. It’s the guy from last night! “I was just drawing, I didn’t hear you.” You said with a smile, showing him the picture. It was of a crow that had been pecking at the grass, but had flown away when you stood up. That’s okay, it was pretty much done.

“It looks good,” he said, eyes trained on the paper. Either he thought your drawing was really interesting, or he was feeling too shy to make eye contact. Maybe both.

“Um… anyway,” You folded your sketchbook closed. “Can I help you?”

He blinked, looking up to your face. Am I imagining it, or is he nervous? You smiled, trying your best to be friendly, and a rosy pink blush tinted his face as he looked away.

“My name’s Scott. I’m also a storm chaser.” He awkwardly held out his hand for you to shake, nodding politely. “I’m— I’m really interested in your, um, work.” He gestured to your sketchbook. “And I—“ he looked away again, laughing nervously. “I really like you, too.”

For a moment, you didn’t know what to say. Is he being serious?

“Um, would you maybe… want to go out sometime? I’m working today, but maybe tonight we could get something to eat.” He gave a smile, sincere and shy and vulnerable, and you thought he was just adorable.

“Yeah, sure!” You replied. Not wanting the conversation to be over, you were just about to offer to show him more of your drawings when somebody called his name from across the parking lot.

“Scott, we gotta go!”

At the same time, Dani jogged over to you in her cowboy boots. “Come on, we’re headin’ out.”

You and Scott looked at each other, and you both couldn’t help but laugh.

“I’ll see you out there,” he said with a smile.

You smiled right back, face warming in a blush. “Only if you can keep up!”

A/N: hope you liked this! Scott is a cutie I wish there was more content for him ^_^

[tatumrileyslover]

Beneath Still Waters

The Games We Play [2]

🏕 Jungkook x reader x Jimin

🏕 genre: horror! slasher! sleepaway camp!

🏕 word count: 8.8k

🏕 warnings: love triangle drama, lots of tension, angst, fluff, arguing

🏕 notes: Make sure you check out chapter 1 !! sorry this took so long to publish, I had lots of work :( But if you enjoy this chapter and series please leave a comment <3 I’d love to know what you think lol !!

previous / masterlist / next

Sleep didn't come easy that night. (Y/n) lay in her bunk, staring at the ceiling, her mind a whirlwind of fragmented memories and nagging fears. The events at the lake played on repeat behind her eyes, refusing to let her rest.

The harsh gusts of wind had whipped around them as the police conducted their interviews. (Y/n) had never seen the lake so agitated, its usually calm surface now a roiling mass of angry waves. The water from the creek thrashed violently where it met the lake, as if trying to tear itself apart.

She couldn't focus on Jin's words as he spoke to the officer. Her eyes were glued to the water, a magnetic pull she couldn't resist. Every fiber of her being screamed to dive in, to search for the missing boy. But they couldn't. It was too dangerous, they said. A dive team wouldn't arrive until the morning.

The other counselors were there too, their faces a blur of worry and shock. Namjoon's usual composed demeanor had cracked, revealing a vulnerability (Y/n) had never seen before. Taehyung stood silent for once, his typical chatter replaced by a haunted look. Hoseok paced nervously, unable to stay still in the face of their helplessness.

And Jimin... Jimin stood beside her, his arm a comforting weight around her shoulders. He didn't speak, didn't try to offer empty reassurances. He was just there, solid and real amidst the surreal nightmare they'd found themselves in.

(Y/n)'s eyes were drawn to the bloody shirt, clutched in an evidence bag by one of the officers. The vivid red stain seemed to pulse in the fading light.

With a jolt, (Y/n)'s focus snapped back to the present. She was in her cabin now, the lake and its horrors physically distant but still all too close in her mind. Her gaze had fixed on one of Jungkook's red t-shirt, draped haphazardly over a chair. For a moment, in the dim light, it had looked like...

The dawn began to break, the sun beaming in through the windows, casting a soft shadow on the room. The snoring was starting to get to her. (Y/n) sat up straight, quickly getting herself together. The sunspots warmed her skin slightly but couldn't rid her of the bumps that still covered it. A shiver ran through her body, a reminder of the night's events that even the morning light couldn't chase away.

The slamming of car doors shook her out of her state. Must have been more police. (Y/n)'s stomach clenched at the thought of more questions, more searching, more of the helpless feeling that had consumed her since they'd found the bloody shirt.

Her eyes drifted to Jungkook's peaceful form in the bunk beside her. A beam of light slowly moved to shine over his face. His nose furrowed slightly as his eyebrows pinched together, moving his arm to cover his eyes. Despite the movement, he remained deeply asleep, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

(Y/n) found herself studying his features, softened by sleep and the gentle morning light. The sharp line of his jaw was relaxed, his usually alert eyes hidden behind closed lids. A lock of dark hair fell across his forehead, and (Y/n) had to resist the urge to reach down and brush it away.

A pang of envy shot through her at his ability to rest so soundly. How could he sleep when the world felt like it was falling apart? But then she remembered how late he had returned to the cabin. He, Yoongi, and Namjoon had stayed out long after the others had been sent to bed, conducting another search around the lake while waiting for more police to arrive.

(Y/n) recalled the determined set of Jungkook's jaw as he'd insisted on going back out, the look in his eyes as he'd promised to find something, anything, that might help. She'd wanted to go with them, but Jimin had gently steered her towards the cabin, insisting she needed rest.

Rest. The word seemed almost laughable now. (Y/n) couldn't remember the last time she'd felt truly rested. Even before last night, the pressures of being a counselor, of being responsible for so many young kids, had weighed heavily on her. And now...

For a moment, (Y/n) felt an overwhelming urge to leave her bunk and curl up beside Jungkook, to bask in the aura of peacefulness that surrounded him. She longed to shut out the world, to pretend for just a little longer that everything was normal. To feel his arm around her, solid and real, anchoring her in a world that suddenly felt unstable and frightening.

But she knew that the second she stepped out of the cabin door, reality would come crashing back. The missing camper, the bloody shirt, the questions without answers - it was all waiting for her just outside.

With a silent sigh, (Y/n) decided to let him sleep on. He would need the rest for whatever the day might bring. As for her, she couldn't ignore what was happening, no matter how much she might want to. The world outside was waiting, full of questions and fears that needed to be faced.

Steeling herself, (Y/n) slowly climbed from her bed, careful not to make any noise that might disturb Jungkook. Her bare feet touched the cool wooden floor, sending another shiver up her spine. She padded quietly to the small dresser, pulling out clothes for the day. As she dressed, she caught sight of herself in the small mirror hanging on the wall. The girl who looked back at her seemed different somehow, the weight of recent events etched in the shadows under her eyes and the tight set of her mouth.

As she gathered her things and prepared to face the day, she cast one last glance at Jungkook's sleeping form, allowing herself a brief moment to wish for the peace he seemed to have found in sleep. His hand dangled off the edge of the bunk, and (Y/n) had to clench her fists to stop herself from reaching out to touch it, to wake him and share the burden of what was to come.

Instead, she turned towards the door, taking a deep breath to steady herself. The sounds from outside were growing louder - car doors, voices, the crunch of gravel under boots. The investigation was ramping up, and she knew she needed to be out there, doing whatever she could to help.

With one hand on the doorknob, (Y/n) paused, looking back at the quiet sanctuary of the cabin. For just a moment, she allowed herself to imagine a different summer, one filled with laughter and campfires and innocent games, like it was before. Then, squaring her shoulders, she turned the knob and stepped out into the harsh light of day, ready to face whatever challenges awaited her in a world that had been forever changed by the events of the previous night.

The light from the sun stung her eyes, making her lift her hand up as they adjusted to the bright light.

(Y/n) stepped out of the cabin, the crisp morning air a stark contrast to the stuffy interior. The camp, usually bustling with early morning activity, was eerily quiet. A lone police cruiser sat parked near the counselors' cabins, its presence a jarring reminder of the previous night's events.

As she made her way towards the dining hall, more patrol cars came into view, dotting the landscape like ominous landmarks. Officers moved about with purpose, their hushed conversations carrying on the gentle breeze. The juxtaposition of their somber presence against the beautiful morning felt almost surreal to (Y/n).

The sun shone brightly in a clear blue sky, a far cry from the tumultuous weather of the night before. Gone were the violent winds that had whipped the lake into a frenzy; now, only a gentle breeze rustled the leaves. The peacefulness of the morning felt almost mocking, as if nature itself was oblivious to the turmoil that had descended upon Mason's Creek.

Lost in her thoughts, (Y/n)'s feet carried her along the familiar path to the dining hall. The usual sounds of laughter and chatter were replaced by hushed whispers and the occasional sniffle from a homesick camper. The events of the night had cast a heavy pall over the entire camp.

As she entered the dining hall, her eyes immediately sought out familiar faces. She spotted Jimin at their usual table and made her way over, noting the uncharacteristic slump of his shoulders.

"Morning," she said softly, sliding into the seat next to him.

Jimin looked up, and (Y/n) was struck by how tired he appeared. His usually perfectly styled hair was mussed, dark circles prominent under his eyes. The polished air he typically exuded was nowhere to be seen.

"Hey," he replied, his voice rough with exhaustion. "How are you holding up?"

(Y/n) shrugged, unsure how to answer. "As well as can be expected, I guess. You look like you didn't sleep at all."

Jimin attempted a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "That obvious, huh? Yeah, couldn't really settle after... everything."

They lapsed into silence for a moment, the weight of the previous night hanging heavy between them. (Y/n)'s mind drifted back to the police interviews, the endless questions that seemed to lead nowhere.

"Did they ask you about the shirt?" she asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jimin nodded, his expression grim. "Yeah. Wanted to know exactly where we found it, if we'd seen anyone near the lake earlier in the day. I kept thinking maybe I'd missed something, you know? Like if I'd just been more observant..."

She reached out, placing her hand over his. "Hey, don't do that to yourself. We couldn't have known."

He turned his hand over, squeezing hers gratefully. "I know. It's just... hard not to wonder, you know? If I hadn't been on that supply run to the boathouse with my headphones in, maybe I would have noticed something. Seen someone suspicious near the lake."

(Y/n) felt a small jolt at this information. She had completely disregarded the fact that Jimin had been away from the main camp area during that crucial time. "You were at the boathouse?" she asked, trying to keep her voice casual.

Jimin nodded, a flicker of something - guilt? worry? - crossing his face. "Yeah, Jin asked me to inventory some equipment and organise everything after their kayaking trip yesterday . I had music on, was completely oblivious to what was happening. I can't help thinking if I'd just been more aware..."

She squeezed his hand reassuringly, even as her mind raced with this new information. "You couldn't have known," she said softly. "None of us could have."

Her mind had been running in circles all night, replaying every moment of the past few days, searching for some sign they might have missed.

"Thanks, by the way," she said after a moment. "For last night. I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't been there."

Jimin's expression softened slightly. "That's what friends are for, right? We've got to stick together through this."

Their conversation was interrupted as Hoseok and Taehyung joined them at the table. Hoseok, usually the mood-maker of the group, was uncharacteristically quiet, his usual bright smile nowhere to be seen. Taehyung, on the other hand, seemed unable to sit still, his leg bouncing nervously under the table.

"Has anyone seen Jin?" Taehyung asked, his eyes darting around the room. "I've been trying to find him all morning. I wanted to ask about the nature hike scheduled for today, if we should cancel or..."

"I couldn't find him either," Hoseok interjected, his voice low, not looking up from his plate. "Checked his office, the boathouse... I thought about knocking on his cabin, but Namjoon was still asleep, and I didn't want to wake him."

(Y/n) frowned. It wasn't like Jin to be unreachable, especially not now when they needed guidance more than ever.

"What about Yoongi?" she asked, noticing another empty seat at their table.

Jimin shook his head. "Haven't seen him. Probably still asleep after the late-night search with Namjoon and Jungkook."

The mention of Jungkook's name sent a small jolt through (Y/n). She thought of him, still peacefully asleep in their cabin, and felt a pang of envy mixed with concern.

"So what do we do?" Taehyung asked, bringing (Y/n)'s attention back to the matter at hand. "About the activities, I mean. Do we just... carry on as normal?"

There was a moment of hesitation as they all looked at each other, unsure. Finally, (Y/n) spoke up.

"I think... I think we should try to keep things as normal as possible for the kids. They're scared enough as it is. But maybe we modify things a bit? Keep activities closer to the main camp, have extra counselors on hand."

Hoseok nodded slowly. "That makes sense. We don't want to alarm them more, but we need to be cautious."

"I could help with your nature hike, Tae," (Y/n) offered. "We could stick to the trails nearer to the camp, maybe focus on identifying plants or something."

Taehyung's face brightened slightly at the suggestion. "Yeah, that could work. Thanks, (Y/n)."

As they continued to discuss plans for the day, (Y/n) couldn't help but feel a sense of unreality wash over her. Here they were, planning nature hikes and craft sessions while police combed the camp for clues about a missing child. It felt wrong somehow, but she knew they had to try to maintain some semblance of normalcy, if only for the sake of the other campers.

The dining hall gradually filled with more counselors and campers, the volume of whispers increasing. (Y/n) knew they'd have to address the situation head-on soon, but for now, she was grateful for this moment of quiet planning with her friends.

As breakfast wound down, they stood to leave, each heading off to prepare for their morning activities. (Y/n) fell into step beside Taehyung as they made their way towards the nature trail.

"You sure you're okay with helping out?" Taehyung asked as they walked. "I know you've got your own things to do."

She nodded, grateful for the distraction. "Yeah, I'm sure. I just think keeping busy might be the best thing for all of us right now."

As they stepped onto the trail, the sounds of the camp faded behind them, replaced by the gentle rustle of leaves and chirping of birds. For a moment, she could almost pretend it was just another normal day at camp. But as they rounded a bend and came across a police officer examining the underbrush, reality came crashing back.

(Y/n) and Taehyung made their way towards the clearing where the children were waiting for their nature hike. The morning sun filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor. As they approached, she could hear the excited chatter of the campers, their voices a mix of anticipation and underlying nervousness.

Taehyung stepped forward, his usual bright smile in place, though (Y/n) could see the strain around his eyes. "Alright, everyone! Who's ready for an adventure in nature?" he began, his voice carrying across the clearing. "Today, we're going to learn about..."

As Taehyung's words faded into the background, (Y/n)'s attention was drawn to a scene unfolding in the distance. Up on a slight incline, partially obscured by trees, she could make out two figures engaged in what appeared to be an intense conversation. With a jolt, she recognized Jin, his usually composed demeanor nowhere to be seen. Beside him stood the sheriff, his stance rigid and authoritative.

Though too far away to hear their words, (Y/n) could sense the tension in their exchange. Jin's movements were uncharacteristically frantic, his hands gesticulating wildly as he spoke. The sheriff, in contrast, stood stock-still, his face set in a grim expression. As she watched, the sheriff raised his hand, causing Jin to flinch back slightly. But instead of striking, the sheriff clenched his fist and brought it down sharply, the gesture seeming more like a warning than an act of defeat.

She found herself transfixed by the scene, her mind racing with questions. What could they be discussing that would cause such an aggressive exchange? Was there new information about the missing camper? Or was this about something else entirely?

"(Y/n)?" Taehyung's voice cut through her thoughts. "Everything okay?"

Startled, (Y/n) realized she had completely tuned out the start of the nature hike. The children had already begun their plant identification activity, scattered around the clearing with worksheets in hand.

"Sorry," she mumbled, nodding towards the distant figures. "I just noticed Jin with the sheriff. It looks... intense."

Taehyung followed her gaze, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Huh. I wonder what that's about. Should we...?"

She shook her head. "No, we should focus on the kids. They need us here."

With a concerted effort, (Y/n) turned her attention back to the activity at hand. She moved among the campers, helping identify leaves and flowers, answering questions, and offering encouragement. But even as she immersed herself in the task, part of her mind remained fixated on the exchange she had witnessed.

The morning passed in a blur of green leaves and curious questions. Before (Y/n) knew it, it was time to usher the children back for lunch. As they approached the dining hall, she spotted Jimin making his way towards them.

"Hey," he called out, falling into step beside her. "How'd the nature hike go?"

She shrugged, her mind still partially elsewhere. "It went fine. The kids seemed to enjoy it, at least. I did feel a bit useless when it came to helping identifying the plants though"

They entered the dining hall, the usual lunchtime bustle subdued by an undercurrent of tension. (Y/n)'s eyes scanned the room, taking in the gathered counselors. Jungkook was notably absent, likely still catching up on sleep after the late-night search. At a table slightly removed from the others, Jin sat with Namjoon, their heads close together in what appeared to be an intense discussion.

As (Y/n), Jimin, and Taehyung settled at their usual table, joined by Hoseok and Yoongi, Taehyung nodded towards Jin and Namjoon. "They've been like that since they came in," he said in a low voice. "Very hush-hush. I wonder what's going on."

Yoongi, who had been silently picking at his food, shot Taehyung a sharp look. "It's probably best not to speculate," he said, his tone brooking no argument. "I'm sure they'll tell us what we need to know when the time is right."

An uncomfortable silence fell over the table. (Y/n) found herself studying her fellow counselors, noting the signs of stress and fatigue on each of their faces. Hoseok, usually a bundle of energy, seemed subdued, his movements lacking their usual bounce. Yoongi's face was set in a grim mask, his eyes darting occasionally to where Jin and Namjoon sat. Taehyung fidgeted in his seat, clearly bursting with questions he didn't dare ask.

Jimin cleared his throat, breaking the tension. "So, (Y/n)," he began, his voice forcibly light, "I was wondering if you might be able to help me out with my swim class this afternoon? I could use an extra set of eyes on the kids."

She nodded, grateful for the distraction. "Sure, I'd be happy to help. What time?"

As Jimin filled her in on the details, she found her gaze drifting over Jimin's shoulder to Jin and Namjoon. She couldn't shake the memory of Jin's confrontation with the sheriff, or the secretive nature of his current discussion with Namjoon. What weren't they telling the rest of the counselors?

The rest of lunch passed in a haze of stilted conversation and worried glances. As they prepared to head out for the afternoon activities, (Y/n) noticed Jin and Namjoon still deep in discussion, seemingly oblivious to the curious looks thrown their way.

"Ready to go?" Jimin's voice pulled her attention back. He stood beside her, a stack of towels in his arms and a forced smile on his face.

She nodded, falling into step beside him as they made their way towards the lake. The sun was high in the sky now, its warmth a stark contrast to the chill that had settled in (Y/n)'s chest. As they walked, she found herself scanning the tree line, half expecting to see the sheriff lurking in the shadows.

"You okay?" Jimin asked softly, nudging her arm. "You seem... distracted."

(Y/n) considered deflecting, but the concern in Jimin's eyes made her pause. "I saw something earlier," she began hesitantly. "Jin and the sheriff, they were arguing. It looked pretty intense."

Jimin's brow furrowed. "Arguing? About what?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "I was too far away to hear anything. But Jin looked... I've never seen him like that before. And now all this secrecy with Namjoon..."

Jimin was quiet for a moment, processing this information. "I'm sure there's an explanation," he said finally, though his tone lacked conviction. "Maybe they're just trying to protect us, you know? Keep us from worrying more than we already are."

(Y/n) nodded, wanting to believe him. But as they reached the lake, the water glittering innocently in the afternoon sun, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was more going on than any of them realised.

The midday sun beat down on Mason's Creek, turning the day into a sweltering haze. (Y/n) was secretly relieved to be helping with the swim class; the cool water of the lake promised a welcome respite from the heat.

She made her way to the small boathouse near the shore to change. As she slipped into her navy blue one-piece swimsuit, she caught a glimpse of herself in the dusty mirror hanging on the wall. The suit hugged her curves, the modest cut still managing to be flattering. She quickly tied her hair back, eager to join the class.

As (Y/n) stepped out of the boathouse, she could hear the excited chatter of children making their way down to the lake. Their voices carried on the warm breeze, a mix of anticipation and playful banter.

Jimin stood at the water's edge, already in his swim trunks, his lean muscles on display. He was addressing the group of campers, his voice carrying clearly across the beach. "Alright, everyone! We've got a treat today. Miss (Y/n) will be joining us to help out with the lesson."

She made her way down to the group, feeling a mix of self-consciousness and excitement as she approached. Jimin turned to her with a warm smile, and for a moment, she found herself appreciating how the sunlight played off his damp silver hair.

"Thanks for coming to help," he said, his eyes meeting hers briefly before turning back to the campers. "Okay, let's split into groups. Beginners with me, intermediate swimmers with Miss (Y/n)."

As they waded into the water, she couldn't help but feel grateful for the coolness enveloping her.

She began working with her group, demonstrating proper form for the breaststroke. However, she found her gaze occasionally drifting to where Jimin was patiently guiding the younger children through basic floating techniques.

She watched as he gently supported a nervous young boy, his encouragement evident even from a distance. The sunlight glinted off the water droplets on his skin, and (Y/n) found herself admiring the way his muscles flexed as he moved through the water. She quickly snapped her attention back to her own group, chiding herself for getting distracted. They were friends and coworkers, nothing more.

She was deep in concentration, helping a young girl perfect her backstroke when a tug on her arm caught her attention.

"Miss (Y/n)," one of the boys whispered, pointing towards the shore. "I think Mr. Jimin and Mr. Jungkook are fighting."

She looked up, squinting against the sun's glare on the water. Sure enough, she could see Jungkook, shirtless and smirking, making his way into the water. Jimin was already moving to intercept him, his usually calm demeanor replaced by obvious irritation.

"Keep practicing, everyone," (Y/n) instructed her group. "I'll be right back."

As she began to swim towards the confrontation, she could hear their voices carrying across the water, growing clearer with each stroke.

"Jungkook," Jimin called out, his voice tight. "This is my class. What are you doing here?"

Jungkook's grin widened as he waded deeper, the water now lapping at his waist. "Thought I'd lend a hand. After all, some of us actually know how to swim properly."

She saw Jimin's jaw clench, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "I've been running these classes all summer. We don't need your 'help'."

"All summer?" Jungkook laughed, the sound sharp and mocking. "And yet half these kids still can't do a proper freestyle. Face it, Jimin, you're out of your depth here."

As (Y/n) drew closer, she noticed Jungkook's eyes flick towards her briefly before returning to Jimin. His smirk grew, if possible, even more pronounced.

Jimin's face flushed red, whether from anger or embarrassment, (Y/n) couldn't tell. "At least I show up to my assigned activities instead of barging in where I'm not wanted."

"Not wanted?" Jungkook's eyebrow raised. "Funny, that's not the impression I get. But then again, you've always been a bit slow on the uptake, haven't you?"

She frowned, confused by the undercurrent in Jungkook's words. She was close enough now to see the muscle jumping in Jimin's jaw as he clenched it tighter.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jimin's voice was low, dangerous.

Jungkook stepped closer, his voice lowering so the kids couldn't hear. "Come on, Jimin. We both know why you're really upset. It's not about the class, is it? It's about who's teaching it with you."

(Y/n) paused in the water, torn between intervening and staying back. The tension between the two was palpable, and she had a sinking feeling that her presence might only make things worse.

Jimin's knuckles were white as he clenched his fists tighter. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't I?" Jungkook's smirk was cruel now. His eyes flickered to (Y/n) again, and this time, Jimin noticed. "I see the way you look at her. Too bad she doesn't look at you the same way, huh?"

She felt her cheeks flush, a mix of embarrassment and confusion washing over her. What was Jungkook implying?

For a moment, she thought Jimin might actually throw a punch. His whole body was coiled tight, like a spring ready to release. Instead, he took a deep breath, his voice coming out low and challenging. "You think you're so great? Prove it. Right here, right now. A race, you and me."

Jungkook's eyes lit up with triumph. "You're on, short stuff. Hope you're ready to lose in front of all your students."

As they began to set up for their impromptu race, (Y/n) finally found her voice. "Guys, come on. This isn't necessary. We're supposed to be teaching a class here."

But neither Jimin nor Jungkook seemed to hear her. They were too focused on each other, the air between them crackling with a tension that went far beyond simple rivalry.

She looked back at her group of students, who were now watching the unfolding drama with rapt attention. She felt a knot of anxiety form in her stomach. This wasn't just friendly competition anymore. There was an edge to their interaction that made her deeply uneasy.

As Jimin and Jungkook lined up at the water's edge, she couldn't shake the feeling that this confrontation was about much more than just a swimming class. Whatever was really going on between these two, she had a sinking feeling that the ripples from this race would spread far beyond the shores of the lake.

The children gathered excitedly at the shoreline, their chatter a mix of anticipation and confusion. (Y/n) felt a twinge of guilt; this wasn't the lesson she and Jimin had planned.

"(Y/n)," Jimin called, his voice tight. "Would you mind officiating?"

She nodded apprehensively, wading to stand between Jungkook and Jimin. Up close, she could see the tension in both their faces, jaws clenched and eyes focused ahead.

"Alright," she began, trying to keep her voice steady. "Here are the rules. You'll swim to the buoy and back. No interfering with each other. First one to touch the dock wins. Understood?"

Both men nodded curtly. (Y/n) couldn't help but notice the determination etched on their faces, almost feeling embarrassed that their rivalry seemed to center around her.

"Take your positions," she instructed. Jungkook and Jimin waded out a bit, ready to dive in at her signal.

Just as Eden was about to start the race, a voice beside her made her jump. "Quite the show, huh?"

She turned to see Hoseok sitting on the edge of the dock, his legs dangling over the water. She hadn't even heard him approach, too engrossed in the tension between Jungkook and Jimin.

"On your mark," (Y/n) called, pushing aside her surprise. "Get set... Go!"

Jungkook and Jimin dove into the water, their powerful strokes quickly propelling them towards the distant buoy. The campers cheered from the shore, picking sides and shouting encouragement.

"They're really going at it," Hoseok commented, his eyes following the swimmers. "All this over a swimming class?"

She shifted uncomfortably. "It's... complicated."

Hoseok's gaze slid to her, a strange glint in his eye. "I'm sure it is," he murmured.

Out in the lake, Jungkook and Jimin were neck and neck as they rounded the buoy, their arms cutting through the water with fierce determination. The race back was just as close, neither man giving an inch.

Hoseok leaned in closer to (Y/n). "You know," he said, his voice unusually serious, "this rivalry might seem harmless now, but you don't want it getting out of hand. Things at camp have a way of... intensifying."

She glanced at him, caught off guard by his tone. "What do you mean?"

Hoseok's eyes remained fixed on the swimmers, a frown creasing his usually cheerful face. "Just keep an eye out for it, (Y/n). That's all I'm saying."

As they approached the dock, (Y/n) held her breath. It was close. In the final stretch, Jungkook's longer reach gave him the edge. His hand slapped the wood of the dock a split second before Jimin's.

"Jungkook wins," (Y/n) announced, her voice barely audible over the mixed cheers and groans from the shore.

Jimin's face was a mask of frustration as he pulled himself out of the water. Jungkook, grinning triumphantly, shook his head like a dog, spraying water everywhere.

"Better luck next time, short stuff," Jungkook taunted.

Hoseok stood to leave, placing a hand on (Y/n)'s shoulder. His grip was firm, almost urgent. "Don't forget what I said, (Y/n)," he murmured, his gaze intense. "Watch yourself."

With that enigmatic warning, he turned and walked back towards the main camp, leaving (Y/n) with an uneasy feeling settling in her stomach despite the warm sun.

As her gaze followed Hoseok, she noticed a figure standing at the edge of the treeline. It was Jin, his expression unreadable from this distance. Before she could ponder his presence, he walked back into the shadows of the forest towards camp.

"(Y/n)," Jungkook's voice pulled her attention back. He was standing close, water droplets glistening on his skin. "I could use some help with archery. Want to come dry off and give me a hand?"

She hesitated, glancing at Jimin. He was already turning back to the campers, his posture rigid with barely contained anger. She knew she should stay, help clean up after the interrupted lesson. But Jungkook was already guiding her towards the shore, his hand warm on her lower back.

"Come on," he urged. "The kids will be fine with Jimin."

As they walked away, she couldn't help but look back. Jimin stood in the water, watching them go. The hurt and anger on his face made her stomach twist with guilt. But Jungkook's insistent tugging and the memory of Hoseok's strange words propelled her forward, towards the archery range and away from the tension-filled lake.

As they made their way from the lake, (Y/n) could feel the warmth of the sun drying her skin. Jungkook walked close beside her, his arm occasionally brushing against hers.

"You know," he said with a smirk, "I think I might need to give Jimin some swimming lessons. Couldn't even keep up in a simple race."

She shot him a disapproving look. "That's enough, Jungkook. The race is over."

He held up his hands in mock surrender, but his grin didn't falter. "Alright, alright. No need to get defensive on his behalf."

They reached the archery range, a cleared area with several targets set up at varying distances. Jungkook grabbed a bow and a quiver of arrows from a nearby rack.

"Ever shot before?" he asked, offering her the bow.

She shook her head. "No, never had the chance."

A glint appeared in Jungkook's eye. "Well then, allow me to teach you."

He stepped closer, closing the distance between them. (Y/n)'s breath caught in her throat as he positioned himself behind her, his chest pressed against her back. She could feel the warmth of his skin through her still-damp clothes.

"Here," he murmured, his breath tickling her ear. "Hold the bow like this."

His hands covered hers, guiding them into the proper position. (Y/n)'s heart raced, the sound of her pulse thundering in her ears. She was acutely aware of every point of contact between them.

Jungkook reached up, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. His fingers lingered for a moment on her cheek, and she felt a shiver run down her spine that had nothing to do with the cool water on her skin.

"Now," he said softly, "draw the string back. Feel the tension?"

She nodded, not trusting her voice. She could feel Jungkook's strong arms guiding hers, his body a solid presence behind her. He adjusted her stance slightly, his hand on her hip sending a jolt of electricity through her body.

"Take a deep breath," he instructed. (Y/n) complied, trying to ignore how his chest rose and fell in sync with hers. "And... release."

The arrow flew true, hitting just off-center of the target. (Y/n) let out a surprised laugh, turning her head to look at Jungkook. Their faces were inches apart, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.

They spent the next hour shooting arrows, Jungkook offering guidance and the occasional unnecessarily close adjustment to her form. As the sun began to dip lower in the sky, (Y/n) realized something.

"Hey," she said, turning to face Jungkook. "Where are all the campers? I thought you needed help with a class?"

Jungkook's grin turned sheepish. "Well... I might have exaggerated the need for assistance. But hey, you're the camper I'm teaching today."

She rolled her eyes, but couldn't help the smile tugging at her lips. "You're impossible, you know that?"

"Impossibly charming, you mean," he retorted with a wink.

As they made their way back to the cabins to change for dinner, (Y/n) realized how late it had gotten. The paths were filled with campers heading back from their evening meal, their excited chatter filling the air.

"Did you see the race?"

"I can't believe how close it was!"

"Jungkook totally crushed it!"

The snippets of conversation swirled around them as they approached the mess hall. (Y/n) felt a twinge of guilt, remembering Jimin's face after the race.

As (Y/n) and Jungkook entered the mess hall, a hush fell over the room. Conversations died mid-sentence, and all eyes turned to watch them make their way to the counselors' table. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife.

Jimin, who had been engaged in quiet conversation with Taehyung, immediately stiffened. His shoulders hunched, and his gaze dropped to his plate, jaw clenching visibly. The change in his demeanor was stark, like a switch had been flipped.

(Y/n) slid into her usual seat next to Jimin, hyper-aware of the silence that still permeated the room. Gradually, conversations resumed, but in hushed tones, punctuated by furtive glances towards their table.

"So," Taehyung began, his voice overly cheerful in an attempt to dispel the tension, "how was everyone's afternoon?"

Jungkook launched into a detailed account of his archery session with (Y/n), while Jimin remained stubbornly silent, pushing his food around his plate with increasing aggression.

Concerned, she placed a gentle hand on Jimin's arm. "Hey, are you okay?" she asked softly.

Jimin jerked away from her touch, his movement so sudden and harsh that (Y/n) flinched. Instantly, regret flashed across Jimin's face, and for a moment, it seemed like he might apologise. But the moment passed, and he turned away.

As (Y/n)'s posture deflated, Taehyung, oblivious to the undercurrents, brought up the race. "Man, you guys were amazing out there! I've never seen anything like it!"

"Well," Jungkook smirked, "some of us are just naturally gifted."

Jimin's head snapped up, eyes blazing. "Naturally gifted? More like naturally arrogant. You think you're so great because you won one race?"

"That one race proved I'm the better swimmer," Jungkook shot back.

"Guys, please," (Y/n) interjected, "can we not do this now?"

But her plea fell on deaf ears as Jimin and Jungkook continued to trade barbs, their voices rising with each exchange.

"At least I stick to my own activities instead of butting in where I'm not wanted," Jimin snarled.

"Not wanted? Funny, that's not the impression I got from (Y/n) earlier," Jungkook retorted with a smug grin.

"ENOUGH!" She exploded, slamming her hands on the table. The sudden outburst silenced not just Jimin and Jungkook, but the entire mess hall. "You're both acting like children. This needs to stop, right now."

In the awkward ringing silence that followed, Taehyung cleared his throat. "Hey, did I ever tell you guys about the camper who went missing years ago during a swim? They say on quiet nights, you can still hear-"

Yoongi groaned, dropping his head into his hands. He mumbled something unintelligible through his fingers.

Namjoon stood up, moving to stand behind Taehyung. "Taehyung, this really isn't the time for ghost stories," he said firmly, taehyung looked away embarrassed. "We need to discuss tonight's patrol schedule."

He began outlining the night's assignments. "Jin and Hoseok will take the first shift. Taehyung and Hoseok, you'll be second. Jungkook and..." He paused, his gaze sweeping over the table before landing on Jungkook and Jimin. "Jungkook and Jimin, you'll be paired together. (Y/n), you're with me for the final shift."

Immediately, protests erupted from both Jungkook and Jimin.

"There's no way I'm patrolling with him!" Jungkook exclaimed.

"Can't I be paired with (Y/n) instead?" Jimin argued simultaneously.

(Y/n), seeing the disaster looming, turned to Namjoon and Jin. "Maybe it would be better if I partnered with one of them instead?" she suggested hopefully. "I'm not sure putting them together is the best idea right now."

Jin's expression hardened. "No, I think it's best if Jungkook and Jimin work out whatever is going on between them. And (Y/n)," he added, his gaze sharp and disapproving, "I don't think you'd be helping the situation by getting involved. In fact, you might be part of the problem."

The jab hit her like a physical blow. She fell silent, feeling small and chastised as Jungkook and Jimin continued to argue in the background, oblivious to the comment made against her.

As dinner wrapped up, (Y/n) and Jungkook made their way back to their cabin. Jungkook complained the entire walk. "I can't believe they're making me patrol with Jimin. It should be you and me out there, (Y/n). Don't you think this is unfair?"

(Y/n), lost in her own thoughts and feeling underappreciated by everyone, barely registered Jungkook's words. She mumbled non-committal responses, eager to reach the cabin and escape into sleep.

Once inside, she quickly changed and crawled into bed, pulling the covers over her head to block out Jungkook's continued grumbling.

Some time later she woke up, (Y/n) was vaguely aware of Jungkook sitting on the edge of her bed. "Hey," he whispered, "I'm heading out for patrol now."

Half-asleep, (Y/n) felt the gentle press of his lips against her forehead. "Be careful," she murmured, already trying to drift back off to sleep, but as the door clicked back into place she found herself wide awake.

As the cabin door clicked shut behind Jungkook. The sudden absence of his presence left her feeling oddly vulnerable. The shadows in the corners of the room seemed to deepen, and every creak of the old cabin made her heart race.

Frustrated by her inability to fall back asleep, she groaned and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She might as well get ready for her own patrol. She ran a brush through her tangled hair, wincing at the knots, and shrugged on a jacket to ward off the night chill.

Settling back on her bed, (Y/n)'s eyes fell on the book on the bedside table she'd been reading earlier: "And Then There Were None" by Agatha Christie. She picked it up, running her fingers over the worn cover. Usually, she loved losing herself in intricate plots, but tonight, she hesitated to open it.

Still, seeking any distraction from her restless thoughts, (Y/n) flipped to where she'd left off. As she read, following the characters' growing paranoia and mistrust, she felt a knot forming in her stomach. The isolated island setting felt uncomfortably familiar, mirroring their own situation at Mason's Creek.

She found herself reading about the clever misdirection of the killer, how they had manipulated events and perceptions. Normally, she'd admire such narrative cunning, but now it only made her uneasy. Were they missing something obvious, some clue hidden in plain sight?

With a sigh, she closed the book. Even her favorite novel wasn't providing the escape she craved. The characters' suspicions of each other hit too close to home, echoing the tension that had been building among the counselors.

As she set the book aside, the cabin door suddenly opened, making (Y/n) yelp in surprise, her hand flying to her chest.

"Sorry," Jungkook mumbled, looking sheepish. He shuffled in and face-planted onto his bed with a groan.

"How was patrol?" She asked, trying to calm her racing heart.

Jungkook's response was muffled by his pillow, but she caught the words "Jimin" and "impossible" among the grumbling.

"Come on," (Y/n) said, moving to sit on the edge of his bed. "I'm sure you weren't exactly a ray of sunshine either."

Jungkook turned his head, shooting her a menacing look. (Y/n) chuckled, reaching out to knead his tense shoulders. "You're so wound up," she murmured.

As she worked out the knots in his muscles, Jungkook slowly relaxed under her touch. Suddenly, he sat up, turning to face her. His expression was intense, unreadable.

"What?" She asked, her hands falling to her lap.

Jungkook didn't respond. Instead, he reached out, his hand cupping her cheek gently. (Y/n)'s breath caught in her throat at the tenderness of the gesture. The air between them seemed to crackle with unspoken words and barely contained emotions.

"(Y/n), I-" Jungkook began, his voice low and husky.

A sharp knock at the door made them both jump, both of them looking towards door. "(Y/n)?" Namjoon's voice called. "Ready for patrol?"

The moment shattered. She sprang to her feet, her cheeks burning. "Coming!" she called, grabbing her flashlight.

As she moved towards the door, Jungkook caught her wrist. "Be careful out there," he said softly, his eyes searching hers.

She nodded, unable to find her voice. She slipped out of the cabin to find Namjoon waiting, his face impassive in the moonlight.

The cool night air hit (Y/n)'s face as she stepped out of the cabin, her eyes taking a moment to adjust to the dim light. Namjoon's silhouette was outlined against the moonlit sky, his lean frame leaning casually against the cabin's railing. His face was mostly in shadow, but she could sense his alertness.

With a fluid motion, Namjoon pushed himself off the railing. "Ready?" he asked, his voice low.

(Y/n) nodded, falling into step beside him as they headed towards the woods. As they walked, Namjoon briefed her on the night's patrol.

"We've been focusing on the areas the sheriff's team hasn't covered yet," he explained. "Jin's been coordinating with them. So far, they've combed most of the camp grounds and the immediate forest area."

"Any leads?" She asked, hope creeping into her voice despite her best efforts.

Namjoon shook his head. "Nothing concrete. The main theory they're working with is that the boy might have run away. We're supposed to check the lake's edge for anything that might have washed up, and scan the tree line for any signs of passage."

They lapsed into silence as they reached the lake. The water was still, a perfect mirror of the star-studded sky above. For a moment, she forgot the reason for their patrol, lost in the beauty of the scene.

(Y/n) and Namjoon walked in companionable silence for a while, the moonlight casting long shadows across their path. The tension of the day still lingered in (Y/n)'s mind, and Namjoon seemed to sense her unease.

"You know," he began, his tone light, "I was thinking about Taehyung's attempt at storytelling at dinner."

She couldn't help but chuckle. "Oh god, that was so awkward. He really doesn't know when to quit, does he?"

Namjoon grinned. "I swear, that guy could find a way to make small talk at a funeral. Remember last year's talent show? When he tried to lighten the mood after that kid fell off the stage?"

"Don't remind me," she groaned. "I thought Jin was going to spontaneously combust from embarrassment."

"Ah, yes," Namjoon said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Nothing says 'don't worry about your sprained ankle' like an impromptu rap about the dangers of stage diving."

(Y/n) burst out laughing. "Oh man, and then he tried to demonstrate a 'safe' stage dive and nearly took out the entire front row!"

Namjoon shook his head, chuckling. "I swear, Taehyung operates on a completely different wavelength than the rest of us. It's like he's got his own personal reality where everything is an opportunity for entertainment."

"Maybe we should get him to give seminars on confidence," she suggested. "Step one: Assume everyone always wants to hear what you have to say. Step two: If they look uncomfortable, that means you're not trying hard enough."

They both laughed at that, the sound echoing across the still lake. As their mirth subsided, (Y/n) felt some of the day's tension ease from her shoulders. She glanced at Namjoon gratefully, realizing he'd been trying to lighten her mood. After a moment, (Y/n) took a deep breath.

"Namjoon, can I ask you something? It's... it's about Jungkook and Jimin."

Namjoon's expression turned serious, but he nodded encouragingly. "Of course. What's on your mind?"

She hesitated, feeling guilty for burdening him with her problems. He already had so much on his plate "I'm sorry, I know you've got a lot to deal with already..."

"Hey," Namjoon said gently, "it's okay. We're all in this together, right? What's going on?"

Encouraged by his kindness, (Y/n) opened up. "I just... I don't know what to do about their fighting. It feels like it's getting worse, and somehow I'm caught in the middle of it all. I want to help, but everything I do seems to make it worse."

Namjoon was quiet for a moment, considering her words. "Relationships can be complicated," he said finally. "Especially when feelings are involved. But you can't control how they act, (Y/n). You can only control your own actions and reactions."

"I know," (Y/n) sighed. "It's just... I feel like I'm letting everyone down. Like I should be able to fix this somehow."

"That's not your responsibility," Namjoon assured her. "Jungkook and Jimin are adults. They need to work this out themselves."

She nodded, absorbing his advice. They walked in silence for a bit longer before she spoke again.

"There's something else," she admitted, her voice small. "Jin's comment at dinner... about me being part of the problem. I know he's under a lot of stress with everything that's happening, but... it really hurt."

Namjoon shifted uncomfortably beside her. She knew he and Jin were close friends, had been since childhood. "Jin... he didn't mean it the way it sounded," Namjoon said, though his tone lacked conviction. "He's under a lot of stress with everything that's happening."

"I understand he's stressed," (Y/n) pressed on. "We all are. But it feels like no matter what I do, it's wrong. I'm trying my best to keep things normal for the kids, to be there for Jungkook and Jimin, to help with the search... and it just feels like it's not enough."

Namjoon stopped walking, turning to face (Y/n) fully. "Listen to me," he said, his voice firm but kind. "You're doing an amazing job. This situation... it's unprecedented. We're all struggling to cope. Jin shouldn't have said what he did, and I'll talk to him about it. You're not the problem here. Far from it."

She felt a wave of relief wash over her. "Thank you," she said softly. "That means a lot."

Namjoon opened his mouth to respond, but froze suddenly. (Y/n) was about to ask what was wrong when she heard it too - a faint snap of a twig nearby.

Namjoon's finger flew up to his lips, signalling for silence. His eyes scanned the darkness around them, alert and focused. "Could be a deer," he whispered, barely audible. "Or maybe a bear. Let's kill the lights and get low."

With practiced ease, they both switched off their flashlights and crouched down. (Y/n)'s heart pounded in her chest as they waited in tense silence. Namjoon's calm demeanor was reassuring, but she could sense his heightened alertness.

Minutes ticked by, feeling like hours. (Y/n)'s legs began to cramp from the awkward position, but she didn't dare move. Namjoon remained perfectly still beside her, his eyes continuously scanning their surroundings.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Namjoon slowly straightened up. "I think we're clear," he whispered. "Probably just-“ but before he could finish his sentence another sound broke the stillness of the night.

A whistle.

Low and melodic, it sent chills down (Y/n)'s spine. It wasn't the cheerful whistle of a fellow counselor or a bird's night call. This was deliberate, almost mocking.

Slowly, (Y/n) and Namjoon turned towards the source of the sound. In the shadows of the trees, barely visible in the moonlight, stood a figure.

(Y/n)'s breath caught in her throat. The figure was completely covered, its outfit blending seamlessly with the darkness around it. The moon at its back cast its face in deep shadow, but she could feel its gaze fixed on them.

In its hand, glinting dully in the moonlight, was what looked like an axe.

She felt rooted to the spot, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure the figure must be able to hear it. Beside her, she heard Namjoon's sharp intake of breath. She turned her head slightly, catching a glimpse of his face. The look of fear she saw there sent a jolt of panic through her. Namjoon, always calm and collected, looked utterly terrified. Slowly she turned back to look at the figure hoping they both had imagined it.

The figure tilted its head, the motion almost curious, mocking. It was playing with them, (Y/n) realised with growing horror. Like a cat toying with a mouse before the kill.

For what felt like an eternity, no one moved. The only sound was the gentle lapping of the lake water and (Y/n)'s own thundering pulse in her ears.

Then, so suddenly it made (Y/n) jump, Namjoon's hand clamped around her wrist.

"RUN!" he yelled, yanking her backwards.

(Y/n)'s feet seemed to move of their own accord, spurred on by Namjoon's grip and the pure terror coursing through her veins. As they sprinted away from the lake, crashing through the underbrush, she risked a glance back.

The figure stood where they had left it, still and silent. But as she watched, it raised its free hand in a wave, almost friendly if not for the axe still gripped in the other.

Then the trees obscured her view, and all (Y/n) could focus on was running, branches whipping past her face, Namjoon's hand still clasped tightly around her wrist.

Behind them, echoing through the woods, came that whistle again. Playful. Taunting.

Promising that this was only the beginning.

Taglist: @jungkooknippleanddicksucker and @dumbheadblog

[friesforfriday]

A real first kiss (Matt Murdock x F!Reader / College AU)

Summary: You tell Matt no one has ever kissed you out of love. He makes sure to correct that.

Wordcount: 2.5K ish

Warnings/Tags: No use of y/n, reader uses she/her pronouns (no physical descriptions aside from that), college AU, Matt and reader are both in law school, some angst, something that could be read as dissociation (reader feels disconnected to an experience), reader is not straight? (no sexual orientation specified but there's an interaction that is not heterosexual / only kissing tho), comfort at the end (bc I am a sucker for happy endings lol)

A/N: This was oddly personal, and while it’s a little short it was very therapeutic to write. Pretty much wanted to do something that related to being a late bloomer (like I have been my whole life) plus some fluff (: Please take into account that this wasn't proof read and that English isn't my first language; if you happen to see any mistakes, do let me know so I can fix them. Hope you enjoy this!

For most people, their first kiss was usually a memory of their early teenage years, maybe even a childhood one. You could recall the stories your friends have told you. For some it was born out of sunny days during summer camp where connections were born after swimming in a lake all afternoon, quickly followed by laughter scattered into open fields or forests between games of capture the flag. That turned into late-night conversations, sneaking out from each other’s cabin after curfew to meet under the starry sky. 

Or perhaps for some it started out as a hallway crush. The kind that you would reveal only to your closest friends, and you all hid under silly codenames. If you locked eyes during free period, it stirred up giggling. And guess what?It turned out they’d been watching you all along. After gathering all your courage, a study date would turn into something more once your knuckles brushed accidentally.

The list could go and on, their stories all very innocent and sweet, most likely a terrible kisses, but nevertheless worth remembering.

If you added to that all the romantic books you’d read, movies, and what not, there were plenty more stories you could think of, from childhood friends turned to high school sweethearts or plenty about games of truth or dare or spin the bottle. Reality or fiction, first kisses tended to be meaningless beyond their experience value, with the rare exception of those who actually found love through them.

Throughout the years, you had patiently waited for your turn. You didn’t have many expectations of how it would actually happen, you just held on for the moment to finally occur. How difficult could it be? It literally seemed to happen to everyone around you. So you just waited, surely things would flow naturally, right?

Middle school rolled by, which was fine. A lot of people need more time to grow into themselves, it would eventually happen, you were sure. Maybe it wasn’t going to be one of those awkward extended pecks that your friends said seemed to last forever. They insisted it was for the best, no one really knows what they’re doing when they still haven’t even fully hit puberty. If you had your first kiss a little later in life, there was a higher chance it wasn’t going to be completely awful. You could deal with that; high school was supposed to be a more exciting chance to expand your circle. 

Boy were you wrong.

By this point, it was possible that maybe you had watched too many rom-coms or read one too many romance novels. You’re sure now that it helped in no way to ease your expectations. Seriously how difficult could it be? You saw it all. Your best friends got into relationships, went on dates, celebrated anniversaries, and had their hearts broken, only to survive them and start all over again. Kids in your classes, the kind to never speak their minds, suddenly grew into themselves and found their people too. 

During lunchtime, couples sat next to each other, holding hands in the cafeteria. Field trips meant seeing impromptu make-out sessions in the back of the school bus. Your friends received proposals for homecoming and eventually proms; always happy to invite you to come along when you didn’t receive any. At the occasional party you did attend, corners turned into your safe spot as you watched as others were approached. Not once did anyone come to strike up a conversation, to casually sweep you off your feet. It only led you to wonder if you were doing something, anything, wrong.

Love seemed to be everywhere, just never in your life.

You’d be lying to say it didn’t hurt your self-esteem. How come it hadn’t happened to you? Were you really that unattractive or uninteresting or whatever it was for no one to be interested in you? Your friends, or anyone who found out, always assured you saying you weren’t the problem, but the evidence seemed to point elsewhere. 

You manages to endure a little longer. After your high school graduation, the prospect of college lifted you spirits. With all the people that attended such a big school, you’d be sure to meet new people or at least get your mind off it.

It was even worse. Nothing could’ve prepared you for the embarrassment inexperience brought upon you. At some point you just started to lie your way through games of never have I ever; because let’s face it, admitting to a dozen strangers that you’ve never even held hands romantically wasn’t how you pictured spending your Friday and Saturday evenings. And that wasn’t even the worst part. Opening bathroom doors to couples straight up fucking or having to leave your dorm when your roommate brought a date every other week made you feel majority behind.

After spending your freshman year sulking, you decided it had been enough. At this point, you knew you were a late bloomer, but c’mon, those “the right person will find you when you least expect it” pep talks were starting to feel like bullshit. For fucks sake, it didn’t even matter anymore if they actually liked you, you just wanted to get it over with.

Matters were taken into your own hands on a Saturday night. The crowded spaces did you no favors to appease your social anxiety. As you walked around, room after room was filled to the brim with strangers, your friends nowhere to be found. The floor of the frat house they had dragged you to remained particularly sticky everywhere you went, especially in the kitchen where you had stopped to refill the red plastic cup in your hands.

As you poured rum into your half full glass of coke, a familiar voice called your name from across the room, “Oh my God, is that really you?”

And so, greetings were exchanged, as well as short debriefings of what you’d been up to since graduating. For all the time you’d been at Columbia, that was the first time you’d run into someone from your hometown.

Soon enough you were sitting in a half-empty deck, laughing and reminiscing about middle school. The green eyes that looked at you weren’t full of love or lust, but had a strange tinge of nostalgia. If you were being honest, it was one of those old friendships that stood had faded into nothing more than an acquaintance, and you suddenly knew you had an opportunity laid at your feet.

In all honesty, you could’ve gone simply with catching up and then left to look for one of your friends. Looking at him, you recalled all the times you joked around in Literature class or the times his parents gave you a ride home before you inevitably grew apart in high school. There was no spark when your knees brushed in the small sofa you were sitting in; but there was no discomfort either, so against your better judgement you decided to go for it.

By all means, it was a good kiss, at least that’s how you remember it now. At the time, there wasn’t anything else to compare it to, but none of the complaints you’d heard before happened. There wasn’t any unnecessary clash of teeth, it didn’t feel like he was shoving his tongue down your throat, he kept his hands safely and softly cupping your cheeks and neck. According to all the standards of all of your friends, this was an A+ experience.

By the time you were heading back to your dorm, you found yourself finally able to check having your first kiss off your bucket list. A sudden feeling of pride ran through your body as you walked through campus. Finally.

Unfortunately, though, after you’d washed your face and were sharing the news over the phone with your best friend, you realized that while everything had seemingly gone smoothly, you still felt the odd knot inside your chest. Like nothing had really changed. It was hard to put into words, how your body had felt out of its own, like you were playing a character as your lips met his, or maybe it was just your mind playing tricks on you. Because for some reason, you hadn’t really felt there when it happened. It just sort of seemed to occur.

“You’re kidding, right?” Matt’s said flat out, although you knew his deadpan tone was just for show.

Letting out a giggle you said, “Why would I lie about that?”

“That jerk was your first kiss?”

“He wasn’t a jerk, we were friends in mid-” you tried to defend the choices of you past self between bursts of laughter, but he didn’t let you continue. His sour expression growing by the second.

“He’s a conservative bigot, a Republican-governor-wannabe, how is he not–”

“He wasn’t back then!” Raising your tone, you barely held it in before your laughter burst out again at the same time Matt’s did, because yeah he was right – that dude did end up becoming a jerk. Except it didn’t really matter because you were never actually into him, and you can’t blame yourself for who your middle school classmates end up becoming.

“But he is now.”

You both kept laughing, shoulders brushing as you sat on the bed on his side of the dorm room. Foggy had ditched you both for tonight, opting out of your usual weekend hangout in favor of a date with someone called Marci, or so he’d said.

“Okay, okay, fiiiine, I’ll give you that,” you said in your defense, lightly shoving his shoulder with your own. “It doesn’t matter anyway. I didn’t actually like him.”

“Wait…” Matt said scrunching his nose in disbelief, his laughter slowly dying down, his face dead serious for real this time. “What are you talking about, why'd you kiss him then?”

With his face suddenly turned in your direction, you felt a your cheeks grow warm. “I guess… I just wanted to get it over with.”

An apologetic smile was what he offered in return, with no real judgment behind it. “Well, it should’ve been more special ... silly as it may be, you know... not just anyone.”

His words stop you in your tracks for a split second, a bittersweet feeling creeping up your chest. You’d never actually considered it, but in the years that had passed since that night, you didn’t recall that any other single kiss you’d received had actually been born from real love or any true feelings at all. 

There was that one time you hit it off with someone at a friend’s birthday. The light conversation between the colorful lights had you blushing more than usual. Their body was warm against yours when their lips were pressed to your own. The taste of their lip balm was sweet, almost sugary on your tongue, but it was all a spur-of-the-moment situation. While, unlike the first time, where you’d felt disconnected from your body, this time you’d actually enjoyed it. There was a warm feeling, maybe happiness, but definitely not affection and surely not love.

Then there were some other guys, whom you had very much liked. They listened to you and talked eagerly with you every time you bumped into each other, yet never actually asked you out. They flirted with you or had their friends act as their wingmen to eventually end up making out with you during random parties, but never – you realized – not one single time had anyone ever been interested in you affectionately, with tenderness or sincerity.

As if on cue, as if he could somehow sense what you were thinking, Matt broke the sudden silence that had grown in the room. “I didn’t mean to overstep I–”

You shook your head, breaking free from your thoughts, “No, no, I just… I don’t think I’ve ever had a…” Your voice quieted down before you could finish the sentence. While you weren’t ashamed of any of your experiences anymore, you couldn’t quite seem to get rid of the lingering pain that followed all of them.

“A real connection?”

Your eyes darted up to look at Matt; red glasses were shielding his eyes from yours, but did not cover the furrow of concern between his brows. It wasn’t a secret to Matt that you’d never been in a relationship. You’d told him at some point, during one of the many late-night conversations you enjoyed having. He’d found it hard to believe, truly, how anyone would pass on the chance of earning your trust. The thing was, anyone willing to pass on your endless compassion, your particular sense of humor, the softness of your skin, or the brilliance of your mind was a jackass, and he sure as hell wasn’t one.

He’d known you all of law school, at least all year and a half you’d both taken of it, although to him it might as well be a lifetime because he couldn’t quite picture a time when he didn’t recognize the sound of your heartbeat by memory. Right from the day you sat next to him in the Civil Procedures course, it took him no time to think of an excuse to talk to you, ignoring Foggy – who was also sitting next to him – to ask you if you’d care to study together someday.

Here and now, your very same heartbeat thumped loudly mere inches away from him. The opportunity he had once longed for.

“C’mon man, you gotta tell her at some point” was what Foggy had told him a few hours prior, before he’d left you two alone on purpose. “She obviously likes you, for real. It’s time.”

“I don’t know, Foggy. I don’t want to pressure her, what if she doesn’t want to be anything more than friends? I–”

“Oh my God, Matt! Are you being serious?” He said in a mock tone, “You don’t want to pressure her? She has completely memorized the way you take your tea and somehow prepares it perfectly in the shitty dining hall microwave. She genuinely prefers spending every Saturday night holed up in our dorm or out at Josie’s or pretty much anywhere just to sit next to you. She literally looks at you with stars in her eyes.”

Chuckling, Matt did his best to play coy, “Well, I can’t know about that last part–”

“You know what I mean. You have to tell her, tonight.” Foggy insisted as he made his way out of the dorm room; he pointed his finger at Matt before he fully headed out, “God forbids you actually pursue something that might make you happy. I’ll be over at Marci’s, don’t wait up for me…”

So yeah, Matt knew what he had to do. “I think I’d like to object to that… if that’s okay with you.”

At your silence– aside from the way your heartbeat continued to pick up – he proceeded, “You don’t really think there isn’t a single soul who’d honestly care for you, do you?”

His hand slowly moved from where it rested atop his lap. His knuckles gently brushed your knee and grazed your hand, guiding themselves with the line of your arm all the way up until they reached your shoulder. A small smile grew on your face and quickly turned into laughter. “Matt, are you serious?”

“I’m sorry it took me this long to tell you.” In a second, he mirrored your laughter, nodding his head. He felt the warmth of your fingers cover his other hand. “Is it okay if I– can I kiss you?”

If you recalled correctly, no one had ever asked you that, in all of your lifetime. Surely, for you, this was a first of its kind.

As soon as you said yes, dexterous fingers slid around your waist, gently coaxing you towards him, before taking off his glasses. Your body didn’t resist complying, the warmth of Matt’s chest as inviting as the feeling of his heartbeat against yours, your legs at ease around his own. 

The stubble across his neck gently brushed against your fingers, a tingling sensation that almost sent shivers down your spine. This close, there was no escaping the soft smell of soap and cinnamon from his skin or the way his breath fanned across your face. Warmth grew inside your chest as you felt the soft brush of his lips on yours, almost melting together. It was slow and languid, much like honey trickling down your tongue. You were sure it could be just as sweet too, a kind of feeling you had never felt before. 

A feeling you guessed was reciprocated if the rumble that reverberated through Matt’s throat was anything to go by. He couldn’t tell why he had waited so long to do this; all of his excuses gone the second the softest skin of your mouth met his. As far as he knew, he could stay with you like this for hours. He didn’t want to pressure you– not even when your breathing got a little faster or when your lips parted oh-so-gently to let him seek out your taste– but this much he could do.

The only reason he found to pull back was to ask you, catching his breath and brushing his thumb over your lower lip, “Does this mean I can take you out tomorrow night? We can do this properly.”

You smiled to yourself, “Only if you kiss me like that again.”

If you're here, thank you so much for reading!!! Please please please let me know what you thought - all feedback is appreciated- and consider reblogging if possible (:

[atlabeth]

everything happens for a reason part 20 - zuko x fem!reader

Guess it's true, I'm never getting over you

part 19 | masterlist | part 21

a/n: holy shit guys. we're finally here. the title chapter, the part that officially puts us over the 100k mark, the turning point, the end of the constant mf angst that i've put you all through. that's right. it's finally time for yn and zuko's life changing field trip. ive had this idea down for so long and i can't believe we're actually here lol. buckle up because she's a very long and very emotional one. i hope you enjoy.

wc: 14.3k I KNOW IM SORRY

warning(s): a lot of angst, fighting, violence (including minor character death), a whole lot of emotions, but the fluffy reconciliation you've all been waiting for<3

chapter title comes from everything happens for a reason (!!!!!!) by madison beer

Y/N felt betrayed. 

It wasn’t a secret how she felt about Zuko. She avoided him at every possible moment, making herself scarce whenever he walked into a room or completely ignoring him in group conversation—it was the closest she could get to the civility required now that he was Aang’s firebending teacher, and even that was difficult. 

Not because she didn’t want anything to do with Zuko—no, it was becoming the opposite, and it scared her more than anything. 

She found herself thinking of him more often than not. And not of the North, or their meetings along their journey, not the catacombs—she found herself recalling the more pleasant memories. 

The time they spent together whenever they could when she was still a servant and he was still a prince. The sunset they shared together the night before her life was turned upside down. Those afternoons when she would visit him in the tea shop, talking like they used to, smiling like they used to. 

Remembering him for who he was rather than who he had become was dangerous. It was how she got her heart broken in the first place, how she went through some of the worst months of her life. 

He couldn’t hurt her again if she didn’t give him the chance to. So she wouldn’t. 

But it was getting harder and harder to avoid him, because one by one, her friends forgave him. 

First, she’d heard, was Toph. She didn’t have any kind of grudge against him, and she was able to make up for him burning her feet tenfold now that he was part of the team. 

Next was Aang. He was already far too forgiving, the amount of grace inside of him more than Y/N could even hope to muster. They proved themselves in front of the last dragons together, and apparently that was enough for Aang to trust him. 

It took Sokka a bit longer, but after what they pulled off at the Boiling Rock together, he didn’t seem to have a hard time getting along with Zuko. The fact that he helped save Y/N and Suki probably didn’t hurt his chances either. 

Zuko had burned down Suki’s village, but Y/N still remembered what she told him in the courtyard—”if you can get me out of here, you’re forgiven. Kyoshi’s fans, I’ll be your best friend.” They weren’t exactly that close, but they worked together, and that was enough. 

Katara, it seemed, was the only one who still shared Y/N’s scorned feelings. They held onto each other like a lifeline, feeding off of the other in their hatred. It might not have been the healthiest option, but they refused to forgive Zuko. They stewed in their hurt, and it felt good. It felt good to have a target for their bitterness rather than the abstract ideal of betrayal, and Zuko worked just fine. 

After they had fought against Azula, the night they settled on a random Fire Nation island, the two of them sat together on the outskirts of camp. They were meant to be keeping watch together, but instead they made quiet conversation. 

“So,” Katara said, “today was… something.” 

“That’s one way to say it,” Y/N said wryly. “Since joining you guys, I’ve had enough action for a lifetime. I can’t wait for all this to be over.” 

Katara smiled, but it was wistful. “Neither can I. This has all gone on for so long—all I want is peace.” 

A memory flashed through her mind—frantic screams, desperate pleading, flames devouring centuries of life—and Y/N swallowed thickly as she tried to push it away. The closer the day came, the more the memories would appear. It happened every year, but this time it was worse. 

“Me too,” she murmured. “More than anything.” 

Katara looked at her for a moment, her gaze softening before she finally spoke. “Are you okay? I… I know today wasn’t easy.” 

Y/N managed a thin smile, but it wasn’t convincing. “You don’t have to worry about me.” 

“You know I can’t do that,” Katara said dryly. “We look out for each other—we always have, even from the first day we met. But it’s like you’re trying to make it as hard as possible for me to care about you.” 

“One of my many skills,” she said sarcastically, but Katara didn’t laugh. Y/N sighed in response, long and deep, and allowed her gaze to drift into the murky distance. At nighttime, the water and the sky became one. It was calming. “I just…” she shook her head, “I don’t know what to do.” 

“With Zuko,” she guessed. 

“With everything,” Y/N said, but then she sighed again. “...Zuko included.” 

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Katara said quietly. “Not after everything he’s put you through.” 

“I keep telling myself that,” she murmured. “But there’s something inside of me that I can’t get rid of.” She looked at Katara, the beginnings of tears glimmering in her eyes. “There— there’s this hope that I can’t get rid of, that things could be the way they used to be again. And— and last time I felt that way was in Ba Sing Se, and I know where that got me, so—” 

Katara stayed silent, only taking her hand to acknowledge her while allowing her to continue. It was a lifeline to her, one sorely needed, and she let out a shaky breath. 

“So why do I still feel that way?” she asked, almost desperately. “How have they all forgiven him so easily? They know what he did— spirits, Aang died because of him— but they’re all able to sit around and joke with him like nothing happened.” 

“They didn’t trust him the way we did,” Katara said with a quiet anger. “They didn’t trust him the way we did, so it didn’t hurt them the way it hurt us.” 

“I don’t want to forgive him,” Y/N said weakly. “But the thought of losing him hurts so much. Why does it hurt so much?”

“I don’t know,” Katara murmured. “I… I don’t know.”

Y/N flinched as a tear rolled down her cheek and fell to the ground below, and she instinctively wiped it away. She couldn’t show weakness.

She grimaced at the thought. How long would that wretched place stay with her?

“I’ll give you some time.” Katara’s expression was pained as she squeezed her hand. She didn’t want to leave her alone, but Y/N was thankful for it. Right now she just needed to feel miserable by herself, without bringing Katara down with her. 

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Katara nodded as she stood up. “You can sleep in my tent tonight. Or if you decide you want to talk, come bother me. I promise it’ll be okay.”

Y/N nodded, the action a bit numb, and she could feel Katara’s eyes on her as she lingered. But eventually she mustered the strength to leave, and Y/N was left with her thoughts.

She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat as she stared up at the sky. She tried to find the constellation her father taught her when she was a mere child—the tiger seal. 

It was a jumble of stars that didn’t even remotely resemble the animal, but she remembered late nights spent stargazing on the ground outside their house, giggling endlessly as her father would point out various other constellations that he made up on his own. It would last until her mother would come out and tell them it was far past your bedtime, young lady, but she would never hide her smile as they ambled back inside.

The memory made a smile of her own emerge, but she soon realized she was fully in tears. They slid down her cheeks, falling onto the dirt and stones jutting out of the cliffside. 

She couldn’t stop thinking of Zuko. She couldn’t stop thinking of her father. She felt so deeply broken in a way that she had no idea how to fix, in a way that was threatening to consume her. 

She had her life back. Everything should have been back to normal. 

But instead, she felt more lost than ever.

-

Y/N ended up taking Katara’s offer of sleeping in her tent, and she was glad she did. The familiarity of it all made her heart ache, but she was thankful for it. Thankful that she had friends like these who wouldn’t let her push them away, no matter how much her newly wired instincts told her it was the right thing to do. 

She was visited by her childhood in her dreams yet again. She saw her father and her mother, walking hand in hand with smiles on their faces as they trailed behind a young Y/N skipping through the village paths. 

She saw her child self running, screaming and laughing in equal parts as she was chased by the boy marked as the tagger, only to stagger backwards after running into one of the adults. But she was greeted by the smiling face of her father. The boy tapped her on the shoulder and ran off laughing, but her father knelt down to her level and looked at her completely seriously. 

“I guess that means we’re the taggers now, huh?” And with that, the two of them ran around the village tagging everyone they could with the seriously unfair advantage. 

She saw the moment after she’d learned how to waterbend, sprinting through the whole village to find her father, drag him to the lake, and show him her new skill. Gan held all the stars in his eyes as he watched her bend, and even though it was the simplest thing she could’ve done he praised her to no end. 

The absence of scars, the smoothness of her skin, a bright smile that shone through her—she was unmarked by the world then. Hopeful, content, naive. 

When she woke up with still-wet tear tracks on her cheeks, it wasn't a surprise. She woke up like this more often than not. 

One week. Seven days. And then she would go to face something she wasn’t sure she was ready for.

But for now, there was something else to focus on. She could hear loud voices outside of the tent—all familiar, thankfully—but she knew that meant she had overslept. 

Y/N fixed her hair and her clothes, rubbing furiously at her face to get rid of any signs of her previous emotions, and emerged from the tent to see her friends all standing around Appa. 

“—about getting closure and justice,” she heard Zuko say, and her brows instinctively creased. 

“What’s going on?” Y/N asked, crossing her arms as she stopped between Sokka and Zuko. “What are you all talking about?” 

Zuko’s eyes widened slightly as he looked at her. “Uh— good morning.” 

“Good morning,” she said stiffly before repeating herself. “What’s going on?” 

“Zuko knows where to find the man who killed our mother,” Sokka said. He was oddly quiet. 

“And Katara wants to find him,” Aang said, his expression uneasy. 

“Is there a problem with that?” Katara asked defensively. 

“Not if Zuko’s right and you just want closure,” he said. “But I don’t think that’s what this is about. I think it’s about getting revenge.” 

“Maybe it is!” Katara exclaimed, gesturing with one hand. “Maybe it is about revenge, Aang. But don’t you think I deserve it?” 

“You don’t know what it will do to you,” Aang said. “I know how you feel right now, trust me—like violence is the only way to solve your problem. I felt that way after I discovered what happened to my people. But it’s not the only way.” 

“I can’t let him go now that I know I can get to him!” she yelled, her voice rising with her anger. “Maybe it’s what I need—maybe it’s what he deserves.” 

Aang’s eyes widened slightly. “Katara, you sound like Jet.”

“That’s not the same,” she snapped. “Jet hurt the innocent. This man— he’s not innocent. He’s a monster.” 

“Katara, she was my mother too, but I think Aang might be right,” Sokka said. 

She set her jaw. “Then you didn’t love her the way I did.” 

Sokka took a step back as his eyes widened. “Katara…”  

“The monks used to say that revenge is like a two-headed rat viper.” Aang spoke up quickly, trying to fill the air after what she’d said. “While you watch your enemy go down, you’re being poisoned yourself.” 

“That’s cute, but this isn’t Air Temple preschool,” Zuko said. “It’s the real world.” 

“And you think he hasn’t experienced the real world?” Y/N snapped. “I think he knows a little bit about grief after what’s happened to him.” 

Zuko looked at her with a surprisingly level expression, contrasting her narrowed eyes and upturned lip. “Monk pacifism isn’t going to help here.” 

Y/N opened her mouth to retort back but Aang stopped her. “It’s okay. I forgive you, Zuko.” He looked at Katara. “That’s what you need to do. Forgiveness.” 

Katara laughed in disbelief. “You want me to forgive the man who murdered my mother?” 

“Of course not!” Aang said. “You need to face him—I understand that. But when you face him, you can’t kill him. You have to let the anger flow through you, and then out of you. Accept your emotions, then let them go.” 

“Why should he get to live when our mother is gone?” Katara shouted. “I don’t want to forgive him, I want revenge!” 

“Killing him won’t bring our mother back,” Sokka murmured. “You’ll just have someone else’s blood on your hands.” 

“Good,” she said coldly. “An eye for an eye.” 

“Makes the whole world go blind,” Aang finished. “One of the monks said that back in the temple—violence might feel right, but it just hurts everyone more. Forgiveness is the right choice.” 

“Forgiveness is the same as doing nothing,” Zuko said. 

“No, it’s not,” he said. “It’s easy to do nothing—forgiveness is hard.” 

“It’s not just hard,” Katara snarled, “it’s impossible.” 

Aang looked over at Y/N, who had been silent since her outburst at Zuko. “Y/N, please. You know revenge won’t help her.” 

Y/N looked between the two of them, the steely determination brewing in Katara’s eyes at odds with a desperate softness in Aang’s. Something twisted in her chest, and she had to force herself to look away as she spoke. 

“...Do what you have to,” she said quietly. “Whatever that ends up being.” 

Hurt flickered across Aang’s expression before he looked away, and Katara nodded thankfully at her before she started walking away. Zuko cast a long look at Y/N before he followed her. 

“I’ll see you guys later,” Y/N muttered as she hurried off in the opposite direction, swallowing her doubts as her hands bunched into fists and loosened over and over, desperately needing something to do with them. 

Katara was going after her mother’s killer, and Zuko was helping her with it. Katara, her last line of defense in her feelings against him, was going on her own trip with him. Y/N knew it was for the best—it was something she needed to do and Zuko had the Fire Nation knowledge that no one else in their group possessed, so he was the obvious choice—but a small part of her still couldn’t help but despise it.

He was getting too close, far too close, and she wasn’t going to let that affect her. 

No matter what.

-

Y/N had found a small solace by the cliffside, sitting on the edge as her legs hung off. She could fall just as easily as anything, but maybe it was the danger that calmed her, the fact that she was in control of what would happen. She heard the footsteps before anything though, and her body tensed up instinctively as she whirled around. 

“It’s just me,” Toph said, her blank gaze aimed at the ground. “You’re jumpier than usual.” 

“How can you tell?” 

“I can hear every ant on this cliffside through their movements,” she said. “Your heart rate spiked so much that even a baby could tell you’re off. You’ve been off, ever since you came back.”

She smiled wryly. “I’m still getting used to everything again. It’s not an easy transition.” 

“But you’re here,” Toph said, and she sat down next to her. “You’ve been through everything, and you’re still here. That means you’re tougher than everything the Fire Nation has tried to throw at you.” 

“How can you say that so easily?” Y/N asked. “I’ve flipped out on everyone at least twice for no reason. I constantly have nightmares about what’s happened. I— I can’t even bend because Zuko still has this stupid hold on me. I don’t feel tough. I feel weaker than ever.” 

“You’re still here,” Toph repeated, emphasizing each word. “So many other people would have given up by now if they were in your position. But you didn’t—you fought, and you continued to fight until you won, no matter how long it took you. That’s what makes you tough—not all the stuff you’ve been through, but the fact that you’re still standing at the end of it.” 

“When did you become so wise?” she joked weakly, her gaze trailing off into the horizon. The sun was beginning to set, beautiful reds and oranges blending with deep purple. It reminded her of the night everything changed. 

“Someone had to keep these dunderheads together while you were busy in prison.” Y/N chuckled a bit, but she could see Toph’s expression sober in her peripherals. “...I’ve just been worried about you.”

“Really?”

Toph punched her on the arm without looking. “Does that make you believe me?” 

Y/N managed a small smile as she rubbed the spot. “Yeah.” 

“Good. Because I don’t know how much sappy stuff I can take.” 

Her smile widened as she wrapped an arm around Toph and pulled her closer. “So you do love me.” 

“Let go of me!” she protested. “This is the worst kind of sappy stuff!”

But Toph made no move to get away from her, and Y/N laughed. “Just admit it. You missed me.” 

“Of course I missed you,” she huffed. “Without you, I actually had to do all the work with Katara instead of knocking Twinkle Toes around with earthbending or practicing on my own. It was horrible.” 

“I missed you too, Toph,” Y/N said with a smile. “I didn’t realize how much I appreciated your tough love until I didn’t have it.”

“I have plenty saved up for you, Snowflake,” Toph grinned, “so don’t worry.” But her expression sobered, and she paused. 

“...I’m here for you,” she said after a moment. “If you need anything, or just someone to listen to. I’m good at listening to people complain.” 

“Thank you,” she said, her smile softening. “That means more than you know.” 

And as the two of them sat there in silence, nothing being said verbally but more in the air between them than ever, she felt content once again. She didn’t realize how much she just needed to talk to somebody. First her conversation with Katara and now with Toph—her friends really were the secret to making her feel better. 

…Things would be okay again, Y/N thought to herself. No matter how long it took, her friends would be there for her. 

Things would be okay again. 

She would be okay again. 

-

“They’ve been gone for too long,” Sokka grumbled. 

“It’s been two days,” Aang said. “Zuko said the man they were after was retired—it can’t be easy to find a retired Fire Nation soldier, no matter how knowledgeable you are about the navy.” 

“That’s too long,” Sokka insisted as he crossed his arms. While Y/N, Aang, Suki, Toph sat together in a loose arc, Sokka was up and pacing. He had been for the past twenty minutes.

“Can you sit down, Sokka?” Y/N asked. “You’re stressing me out.” 

“You should be stressed out!” he exclaimed, flinging his arms up. “The boy prince of betrayal went off with my impressionable sister on a murder field trip. There is no reason to not be stressed out!” 

“You need to give Sugar Queen more credit,” Toph said. “If Zuko tries anything, he’s the one that should be worried. Not the other way around.” 

“Toph’s right,” Aang said, but then he frowned. “And I thought you trusted Zuko.” 

“Not when he’s alone with my sister on a murder field trip!” Sokka heaved a long sigh as he stopped, staring out into the distance. Even though their island was one of a big scattered chain, they were still extremely isolated. It was unnerving sometimes, especially at night. “She feels everything so strongly, and… and she’s always felt guilty about what happened to Mom. I know she thinks this is her chance to make it up to her, to do what she wished she could have done on that day. But I also know that if she goes through with it, she’ll regret it for the rest of her life.” 

“She’ll make the right choice,” Y/N murmured. “I know she will.” 

Aang suddenly perked up, and he turned around. When he did, his eyes widened. “They’re back.” 

They all turned around to see Appa touching down at camp, but only one person dismounted. 

“Where’s Katara?” Y/N instantly asked, her eyes narrowing as she darted up. 

“She’s fine,” Zuko said, but when he glanced at Aang she could see his nerves. “She… she’s back at the dock. At the soldier’s village.” 

“Did she…?” Aang didn’t finish the sentence, but he didn’t have to. 

“No. He’s terrified out of his mind, but he’s alive.” A weight was visibly lifted off of Sokka’s shoulders with the single word, and Aang nodded. 

“That’s… that’s good.” 

“She said she needed some time to herself,” Zuko murmured. “I figured it was only right to bring you back with me.” 

“I’m coming too,” Sokka said.

“Me too,” Y/N spoke up. She could feel Zuko’s gaze on her, but she didn’t meet it. 

“I’ll stay back,” Toph said. “Someone has to hold this place down.” 

“I will too,” Suki said, and she gave Sokka a light kiss on the cheek. “I hope she’s okay.” 

“She will be,” Sokka said softly. “Eventually.” 

Zuko nodded and started walking back towards Appa. “Let’s get back, then. It’s a bit of a ride.” 

-

Soon enough, they were all in the village, and Aang jumped off Appa as soon as he’d guided him close enough. 

“Katara!” he exclaimed as he ran towards her, sitting on the edge of the dock. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m doing fine,” she murmured. Her voice was placid as the water she sat above, but it was strained. 

“Zuko told me what you did,” Aang said softly. “Or… what you didn’t do, I guess. I’m proud of you.” 

“I wanted to do it,” she said stiffly. “I wanted to take out all my anger on him, and I almost did. But… but I just couldn’t. I don’t know if it’s because I’m too weak to do it or strong enough not to.” 

“You did the right thing,” Y/N said. “Facing that man makes you stronger than he could ever hope to be.” 

“Forgiveness is the first step you have to take towards healing,” Aang said. 

Katara stood up, and her gaze was a mixture of sadness and acceptance. But it was obvious the ordeal was still weighing on her. “I didn’t forgive him. I’ll never forgive him. But…” she looked past them and over at Zuko, the smallest of smiles pulling at her lips. “...I am ready to forgive you.” 

She walked up to Zuko and hugged him, and after a moment of hesitation Zuko smiled and wrapped his arms around her. Y/N clenched her jaw and started walking back over to Appa. 

She was happy Katara got closure, of course she was. But in the process, she had forgiven Zuko. She was her confidante, the one person who understood how deep her anger towards him went. She had been by Y/N’s side throughout their whole journey, at each and every road block, she was there for Ba Sing Se—for all of Ba Sing Se. 

And somehow, Zuko had gotten her to forgive him too. 

It was selfish, unbelievably so, for it to hurt her so much when Katara had just faced something impossible. But she couldn’t help the way that her chest twisted, how her heart ached, how her nails dug so deep into her palms they left indentations. 

When the rest of them got back onto Appa, Katara sat down next to her. “Thank you for coming.” 

“Of course.” She didn’t make eye contact, her gaze focused into the distance as Aang set off for camp. “I’m glad you got to face him. That you made the right decision for you.” 

“Y/N,” she murmured, “I know what this is about.” 

“It’s not about anything except you,” she evaded. “This was a journey you had to take—we’re all behind you.” 

“And you have all my thanks for that,” Katara said. She glanced at Zuko on the other side of the saddle, very obviously trying to pretend like he wasn’t listening in on their conversation. He wasn’t very good at it. “But I know you’re upset about… that.” 

“We don’t need to talk about this right now,” she said. 

“Y/N…”

She didn’t say anything. Katara sighed and settled back down on the saddle. 

“Okay,” she nodded. “When you’re ready.”

Quiet conversation was made on the other side of the saddle between the three boys, but there was nothing between Katara and Y/N. 

Nothing except a newly found weight on both their shoulders. 

- 

The sizzling fuse exploded when they got back to camp, though. A ride spent staring at the sky didn’t do much for her. Y/N got down from Appa the moment Aang guided him to the ground, and Katara let out a hefty sigh as she followed after her. She started to say her name, but she didn’t get far. 

“Even you forgave him.” Her words were cold, icy rather than hot anger. “Even you! After everything we’ve talked about— everything you know!” 

“I— I know,” Katara said, and she let out a deep sigh as she ran a hand through her loose hair. “But… but he helped me in a way that no one ever had. I found my mother’s killer. I got closure.” 

“Well, maybe I should get him to help me find the guard who killed my father,” Y/N said sarcastically. “Maybe that’ll get me my bending back.” 

“It could,” Katara said, and she was actually genuine. “It could work. And Zuko would help you.” 

She huffed a mirthless laugh and shook her head, biting the inside of her lip to prevent the tears she knew would start welling up. “I’m not letting him back in. Even you said I shouldn’t.” 

“I can’t say I know how much you’re hurting,” Katara said, “but… but Zuko is hurting just as much as you. There’s no excuse for what he did, I’m not saying that. But he wants your forgiveness more than anything in the world.” 

“Did he tell you to say this during your trip?” she asked stiffly. “I mean, now that he’s turned you over to his side and everything.” 

“I’m saying this because I care about you,” Katara said softly. “Y/N, I have seen you hurting for months now, all because of Zuko. Even from the first moment we met in the North, I knew there was something inside of you, and it’s still there. And if you don’t take care of it, it’s going to consume you.” 

“I can’t forgive him.” Her voice was barely a whisper, a cracked, haunted resolve behind it. “I won’t let myself get hurt again.” 

“And I can’t promise that he won’t hurt you again,” Katara murmured. “But I do know if you decide to let him back in, he’ll spend the rest of his life trying to make it up to you.” 

Y/N wasn’t able to muster any words. She wrapped her arms around her midsection and turned away, blinking back tears. 

“He talked about you,” she continued. “When he wasn’t talking about the Fire Nation and where we were going, he was talking about you. He loved you back then, and he still loves you now. Even if it took him way too long to realize it.” Katara’s expression softened as well as her voice and she took a step closer. “All he wants is to help you however he can.” 

“If he loved me then and he still betrayed me,” she whispered, “then how can I ever trust him again?” 

“...You just have to,” Katara said quietly. “Trust in the Zuko you knew before you were forced to be on opposite sides. When the two of you were the missing half of each other’s souls.” 

She swallowed the lump in her throat, still unable to look back at Katara. “I can’t.” 

“Then at least don’t push us away,” Katara urged. “You’ve been off. I don’t know what it’s about, but you can tell me as little or as much as you want, whenever you’re ready. I’m here for you—we’re all here for you, Y/N. We love you so much. Let us help you.” 

She bit down on her lip hard to prevent the tears from welling up, and she was only able to muster a nod. “I will. Soon.” 

“...Okay.” 

Y/N walked off, and she could feel Katara’s worried gaze on her. It took all her strength not to look back. 

-

Three days. 

It all went on as usual. Suki asked if she was okay, but she didn’t push. 

Sokka wouldn’t stop looking at her strangely. He must have heard her leaving her tent in the middle of the night. 

-

Two days. 

The nightmares were worse. She nearly woke up screaming. Thankfully, she didn’t wake Katara. 

Aang sat with her during breakfast, telling ancient airbender stories. He didn’t ask anything when he had to repeat himself because of her blank stare at the ground. 

She spent most of the day sitting by the water. 

Maybe it would come back after this. 

-

One day. 

Everyone knew something was wrong, but she didn’t give any of them the chance to ask.

Especially Zuko. He wouldn’t stop looking at her, wouldn’t stop trying to talk to her. She brushed him off every time. 

She packed her bag that night. 

She barely slept a wink. 

-

“What are you doing?” 

Her plan was to leave at the crack of dawn, before her friends could ask any questions or try to go with her. She would be back by nightfall, and she would have closure. The nightmares would stop. The guilt would go away. She would be okay again. 

But of course, he had to ruin everything. 

She didn’t look over at the sound of Zuko’s voice as she rifled through her bag, making sure she had everything she needed. “Nothing.” 

“That doesn’t look like nothing.” 

“Very perceptive, aren’t you?” she said dryly. Y/N tied her bag shut and stood up, then climbed onto Appa’s back. “I’m leaving.” 

His eyes widened. “You’re leaving? Does everyone else know about this?” 

“Not leaving for good,” she scoffed. “I just have something I need to do.” 

“And that is?” 

Y/N glared fully at Zuko. “None of your business.” 

“You’re taking Appa in the middle of the night to go somewhere,” he said, crossing his arms. “Every time someone’s tried to do that, it’s been for something important. Sokka was going to the Boiling Rock, and Katara wanted to find her mother’s killer. I’m guessing whatever you’re going to do is equally important, which means you’re gonna need backup.” 

“I said it was none of your business,” she repeated. “I can handle myself just fine without you.”

“Well,” Zuko crossed his arms, “I’m not leaving until you tell me what you’re doing.” 

“You’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met,” she jabbed. 

“You’re the most stubborn person I’ve ever met,” he responded with a shrug.  

She went silent for a moment as her gaze traveled away, staring instead at the dark night sky. Today had been the hardest day yet, even looking back on her months in captivity. It was the day everything changed. She didn’t exactly know what possessed her to tell Zuko the reason, but after a moment, she did. 

“Seven years ago today, my village was invaded,” she said quietly. “It’s the day my mother and I were captured, and… and the day my father was killed.” 

Zuko’s eyes widened, and his voice was the same as hers when he finally mustered something. “I… I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.” 

“So am I,” she said, “but apologies haven’t helped me with anything. I’m going back. I’m visiting my village for the first time since my mother and I were taken. Now that I have the means to travel there, it’s something I need to do.” 

“I understand,” Zuko said, “completely. I’ll come with you.” 

Her response was instantaneous. “No.” 

“You can’t travel that far alone,” he insisted. “I have no doubt that you can handle yourself, but you’ve trained to fight with your bending, and right now you don’t have it. If you run into any kind of trouble, you’re… well, you’re gonna be in trouble.” 

“I can fight,” she said. “I’m good with my fists. I held my own against Azula.” 

“You did,” he admitted, “but her skill also isn’t in her hand to hand. And if you’re up against multiple people—say, Fire Nation guards—you’re gonna go down quick.” 

“You have just as much faith in me as ever,” she remarked sourly. 

“It’s not that I don’t have faith in you!” Zuko defended. “I just don’t want you to die because you have too much pride to accept any kind of help.” 

“It’s not that I don’t want any help,” she stated. “I just don’t want your help.” 

Zuko let out a long-lasting sigh, shaking his head before he finally met her eyes again. “Look. I know you don’t like me, and you don’t have to. Not after… not after what I did. But whatever’s between us can’t affect our mission, because ultimately we’re all here to defeat my father. That has to happen no matter what, so like it or not, we’re probably gonna have to work together at least once to make that happen.” 

“I don’t have to work with you if I don’t want to,” she said. 

“Really? So if we’re in the middle of a fight and your choice is to either work with me or die, what would you do?” 

“I’m not that stupid,” she snapped. 

Annoyingly, though… he had a point. They couldn’t afford any distractions, not so close to the end. And Y/N wouldn’t be the reason for their failure because of Zuko. 

“...Fine,” she relented, but the glare she pinned him with was still withering. “But you do whatever I tell you to do, and you don’t come with me when we get to my village. This is private.” 

Zuko immediately broke out into a grin and he nodded. “Of course. I’m here for you.” 

She averted her gaze as she took her seat on Appa’s head. “Get your things before I leave you here.” 

He nodded again and he started off towards his tent. Y/N let out a loose sigh as she rubbed her hands up and down her arms, the early morning chill beginning to get to her. 

A trip with Zuko to her childhood village on the anniversary of the worst day of her life. 

This couldn’t go terribly at all, she thought wryly. 

-

“...So,” Zuko said, “do you know where we’re going?” 

“No,” she said, “I just thought I would lead Appa around blindly and hope that we somehow end up in the right place.” 

“So you do know—” 

“Of course I know where we’re going,” Y/N snapped. Maybe it was unfair of her, but she didn’t exactly care. “Sokka took a map from Wan Shi Tong’s library before it collapsed, and he let me borrow it. It’ll take us a couple of hours, but we should make it before noon.” 

Zuko nodded. “Where is your village? You never told me much about it when you talked about your past.” 

“Why do you care?” 

He huffed a laugh. “You can’t be serious.” 

She said nothing, and Zuko sighed. “I care about you, Y/N, more than anything. I’m here because I want to help you. Of course I care about where you’re from.” 

“That doesn’t mean we need all the small talk,” she said. 

“It’s not small talk, it’s a conversation,” Zuko said dryly. “I’m more than happy to sit here in silence with you for another six hours, but I think that’s pretty boring.” 

“...It’s by the southern coast, near the Zeizhou provinces,” she relented after a moment. “It’s so small that you can’t find it on a map unless you know what you’re looking for. We didn’t even have an official name—if we had to, we called it South Zeizhou because that was the only notable thing near us.” 

“What was it like?” he asked. “Growing up in a place like that.” 

“It was nice,” she said. “We were almost completely isolated from other villages, so we were tightly knit. Everyone knew each other—I’m sure I knew each person by name by the time I was five—and everyone helped each other. We didn’t have much, but everyone was well taken care of. Our community was everything.” 

“That sounds beautiful,” Zuko murmured. 

“It was,” she agreed. “Until your people invaded it and destroyed it.” 

Zuko went silent at that, but instead of the sick sort of satisfaction she normally experienced, she felt… guilty. 

It wasn’t his fault. Zuko was only a year older than her—when her village was invaded, he was probably in school lessons or learning how to be a prince. And now he was here, going against everything he knew, everything he’d ever had, to try and make things right. 

He was a child just like her. And with a father like Fire Lord Ozai… 

“...I’m sorry,” she said, and his eyes darted up, a bit of shock visible in them. “I know it wasn’t your fault. I just…” she sighed. “I’ve never forgiven the Fire Nation for what was done to my people. And I guess you’re just the easiest target.” 

“I understand,” he murmured. “And for whatever it’s worth, I’m sorry too.” 

“This doesn’t mean anything.” The words were quick to leave her mouth, and she didn’t look at him. “Just because I feel bad doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you.” Nevertheless, she could still hear the smile in his voice. 

“I know.” 

More silence. 

“What was your father like?” Zuko asked as he broke it. “You speak of him so fondly.” 

She bit her lip at the question as the memories flooded back, and Zuko was stumbling over his words almost immediately. 

“You— you don’t have to answer,” he said, “obviously, if it’s too much, but I—” 

“He was the nicest man you’d ever meet,” she said softly. “He was always willing to help anyone who needed it, always willing to do far more than he had to if he thought it would make someone happy. And he did—he made my mother the happiest woman alive. He was beloved by everyone in the village.” Y/N swallowed hard. “He died to protect it. To protect me.” 

“You’ve made him proud,” Zuko said. “I know you have.” 

“I hope so,” she murmured. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

She meant to leave it at that, but for some reason, the words continued to flow. “But I… I’m worried about what will happen when I get there.” that they won’t recognize me when I come back.” 

Zuko frowned. “What do you mean?”

“It’s been years since I was there.” Y/N let go of the reins and wrung her hands together. She glanced down at the bandages, the rough fabric almost a comfort after her time without them. “I haven’t been back since I was captured. What if they resent me for not being there?” 

“No one could possibly resent you for that,” he scoffed. “You were taken, Y/N, by soldiers. You were a child—what could you have done?” 

“Anything,” she muttered. “If I had done anything, maybe things would have been different.” 

“You can’t do that to yourself,” Zuko insisted. “You’ll drive yourself insane going down that path.” 

She shrugged. “That doesn’t mean it isn’t true.” 

“Look at me.” 

Y/N frowned. “What?” 

“Turn around and look at me,” he said again. “And don’t do your stubborn I hate Zuko thing. Just humor me for once.” 

She scoffed and crossed her arms as she turned around, looking him in the eye. “What?” 

“Do you think it’s Katara’s fault that her mother is dead?” 

The jump to the topic made her blink, recoiling the slightest bit. “What? No— spirits, of course not.” 

“But she died to save her,” Zuko said. “The raiders were there looking for the last waterbender, and that was Katara. Her mother gave herself up in place of her.” 

“That’s not her fault,” she said. “Her mother ch—” 

It hit her then, and her eyes narrowed. “You’re not clever.” 

The slightest smile tugged at Zuko’s lips and he shrugged. “It worked, didn’t it?” 

“You’re not clever,” she simply repeated, and she turned back around and grabbed the reins. She couldn’t see Zuko’s pleased expression as he adjusted his position in the saddle. 

“Just trying to help,” he said, and his voice softened. “You’ve made your father proud, even if you don’t think so. You’ve made both your parents proud.” 

She didn’t respond. She feared that if she tried to, the tears would spring. And she wasn’t going to cry. 

But she appreciated his words more than he knew. Maybe even more than she knew. 

But she couldn’t say that. And so they rode in silence. 

-

“We’re almost here,” she announced, and she lightly tugged at Appa’s reins to get him to slow down. It had been a few hours of silent flying and navigating, but they’d made good time. By the spot of the sun in the sky, she could tell it was just before noon. 

“Good,” he said. 

They had been in the air for hours, starting even before the sun had risen, so it was no surprise when she glanced behind her and saw Zuko fighting off grogginess in the form of a barely stifled yawn. 

“You didn’t have to come, you know,” she said, maybe a little too snippy. 

“I wasn’t going to let you go alone,” Zuko said. “And even though you might not think so, I like being around you. I…” he sighed and shook his head. “Nevermind.” 

“What?”

“I just want things to be the way they used to be,” he murmured. “But I know that can’t happen. And I know you’re tired of hearing it.” 

“...I want that too,” she said quietly after a moment of hesitation. 

She heard the rustling of leather and a sharp intake of breath, and it wasn’t hard to tell he was shocked by her words. And maybe she was shocked too, because she knew she meant them completely. 

“Y/N,” Zuko started, “you—” 

But then he was interrupted by her gasp. 

“What?” he asked, only a moment of hesitation before he switched veins. He moved up beside her, and his eyes widened. “Flames of Agni…” 

In the distance, she could see where the forest abruptly stopped. It went on for kilometers, the ashy remnants of fauna and chopped stumps. So much of the forest was just— was just gone. And in the center of it all…

Her village was unrecognizable. Houses made of wood and stone had been torn down and replaced with metal buildings, and the few original buildings that still were in disrepair, riddled with scorch marks and on the verge of falling apart. She could see armed Fire Nation soldiers manning certain spots around the village, as well as marching through the streets. They numbered far more than anyone in simple Earth Kingdom garb. 

Flags and banners with Fire Nation insignias hung everywhere, but the worst part was the factory. It was as big as ten of their old homes, black, polished metal only good for serving as an eyesore. It pumped out acrid black smoke, and even from so far away it made her eyes sting. Her hands clenched into fists around the reins, and anger swelled up inside of her. 

Everything that was held sacred in her village was gone, ruined by the Fire Nation for their own gain. Just like everything else in the world.

And she hadn’t even known about it. 

“The Fire Nation is still here,” she said shakily. “I… I don’t know what I expected. I thought they would move on after the raid, but…” She barely managed to choke back a sob by clenching her jaw tightly. “They destroyed it all.” 

“I’m so sorry.” There was horror in Zuko’s voice, and like her, he was unable to look away from the devastation. “I… If I had known…” 

“Sorry isn’t going to fix anything,” she said bitterly, but it was more pained than anything. 

“Then we will fix it,” he countered. Her eyes flicked up to him, the smallest bit of surprise visible. “We’ll take your village back and get the Fire Nation out, once and for all.” 

Y/N’s grip tightened even further on the reins, her nails digging deep into her palms as she nodded. Her eyes hardened as they moved back to her village, and she nodded resolutely. 

“You’re damn right we will.” 

-

“Are you okay?” 

“Of course I’m not okay,” she said. She wanted to snap at him, but she didn’t have the energy. Not after what she’d seen. 

She and Zuko had set up camp a while away from her village, deep in what remained of the forest to give Appa enough cover. Though she wanted to light a fire, she knew it was too risky. And so they sat together on the ashy, barren ground, the air between them heavier than ever. 

They were going to take back her village, that much was a given. The only question was how. 

“You’re right,” he murmured. “It was a stupid question.” 

“I just don’t understand,” she said weakly as she sat back on the ground. “Why would they stay in our village? We’re so far off the map that it’s probably costing them more to be here than not.”

“That’s what the Fire Nation does,” Zuko said. “They destroy everything they get their hands on.”

When Y/N looked up at him, he was staring at the ground, his jaw clenched. 

“It’s about breaking their spirit,” he continued. “If they just left, your people could fight back. Get revenge for the invasion. But if they take over completely—”

“They crush an uprising before it has the chance to grow,” she murmured, “and they gain a workforce and all the natural resources they could want.”

“Yeah.”

Zuko’s voice was oddly quiet, stilted in a way she couldn’t place. She couldn’t stop herself from asking.

“What happened when you went back to the Fire Nation?”

Zuko glanced at her, swallowing hard before he looked away. “I’m not sure you want to know.”

“I do,” she said. “And I think I have the right to know.”

“Mai and I got together.” He sounded almost embarrassed, and she hated the twist of jealousy in her chest. “We talked during the entire boat ride home, and it went from there.”

“Oh,” she said stiffly. “So while I was sentenced to rot in prison for the rest of my life, you were getting busy with the girl who’s loved you her whole life.”

His cheeks flushed bright red in spite of the obvious anger. “That’s not what it was!”

“Really? Because that’s exactly what it sounds like.”

“We were both struggling,” he insisted. “I… I wasn’t handling Ba Sing Se well, and Mai was having doubts about everything. We gravitated towards each other in our misery, and— and it just happened.”

“You can’t honestly believe that’s true,” she snapped.

“You don’t know anything about Mai if you think it isn’t!” he exclaimed. “Neither of us were—”

“What?” she asked, brazen in his silence as he suddenly cut off. “You weren’t what?”

“…We realized that we didn’t like each other in that way,” he finished in a mumble. “Expectations pushed us together. Our own feelings pulled us apart.” Zuko looked back at her this time. “We couldn’t ignore our… our true feelings.”

“And what are those true feelings?” she asked. She couldn’t help the mocking tone in her voice, but the anger was beginning to come back. Mai had never been mean to her back in the palace, but it was hard to forget Omashu and Ba Sing Se. And it wasn’t exactly nice to hear that she and Zuko got together right after she was sentenced to a life in prison. 

“I love you,” he said, “and you know that. But Mai, she—” Zuko shook his head and glanced away. 

“What?” she repeated. 

“...Do you remember Ty Lee?” 

She frowned. “Yeah. She’s tried to kill me a couple times.” 

“That’s who,” he said, and her eyes widened slightly. “They’ve always been close, but… I don’t know. Maybe the pressure of working under my sister brought them together. Maybe me being as horrible as I was pushed her away. But all I know is that Mai has feelings for her, and none for me. And I’m okay with that.” 

“...Ty Lee,” Y/N said, and she managed a chuckle. “I think that’s the last pair I expected.” 

Zuko cracked a smile. “It works, though. I hope they can figure something out.” 

“Yeah,” she mumbled. “Me too.” 

But then Zuko’s expression sobered again as he looked at her, his gaze as piercing as ever. “You know I don’t like her. You know there’s nothing between us. A—and you said you wanted things to be the way they used to be.” His voice was low, but there was no mistaking the edge of desperation in it. “So why can’t they be?” 

“Why does it always come back to us?” she asked bitterly. 

“Because I want there to be an us again so badly,” he said. Zuko’s voice was so genuine it pained her, and she hated how easily he was cracking her resolve. 

The walls used to be easy to keep up, used to be gratifying. But now all it did was hurt. The night was cold, and she longed for his embrace. 

But Zuko was fire. Beautiful, inviting, full of warmth, but able to hurt her just as easily. 

And spirits, that was all she could think about as the scar on her arm stung. The burns on her hands had faded, and Ba Sing Se’s mark was nearly gone as well, but she couldn’t forget.  

“Maybe there can’t be an us again,” she mumbled as she stood up. “And maybe we just both have to accept that.” 

The look in Zuko’s eyes hurt, his downcast expression combined with the same longing she felt. So she walked away towards the forest, or rather what remained of it. 

“I’m going to scout out our surroundings,” she said, though it was half-hearted. “I’ll be back when the sun starts setting. We’ll figure out a plan at nightfall.” 

She’d disappeared into the woods soon enough. If Zuko said something, she didn’t hear it. 

-

She held true to her word, and she was back by nightfall. Zuko had drawn a map of her village in the dirt with a stick, and though it was crude it was accurate. It turned out he had a better memory than she thought, and it also seemed that when they were working towards something like this, it was easier to work through the tension. 

It took the better part of an hour for them to come up with something and actually agree on it, and it was still shakier than he liked—a lot of it relied on her people remembering Y/N the way that she remembered them. But it was a plan, and it could work, so it was good enough. 

Soon enough, they were back on Appa, riding through the inky sky towards her village. Dressed in black from spares Zuko had in his bag—the same outfit he lended Katara during her mission, she was sure—they blended in perfectly. 

“We’re here,” she whispered, and Zuko nodded as he sheathed his sword and moved up next to her on Appa’s head. “Do you remember the plan?” 

“Of course I do,” he said. “Are you dropping down here?” 

“Yeah. I’ll signal when I’m ready for you.” 

He nodded again. “Good luck, Y/N.” 

“...Thanks.” 

She guided Appa closer to the ground, handing the reins off to Zuko when she thought she was close enough. She slid off as quietly as she could, her moccasins doing little to help with the shock of landing but good enough at muffling her movements. There were fewer guards than before, but it still made her nervous. 

Y/N didn’t even dare to breathe as she moved through her village, ducking behind cover when she needed to as she made her way towards one of the only remaining houses. Despite the Fire Nation banner hanging across the front, it still felt like it was her village rather than another forced colony. 

That was something, she supposed. 

She pushed the door open quietly and pulled the fabric down from her face, checking once more to make sure there were no guards before she closed it. And when she turned around, she was met by a wide-eyed woman and a stark-faced man darting up from his spot on the floor. 

It probably wasn’t the best look, showing up dressed in all black in the middle of the night while the village is occupied by soldiers. She could only hope they would recognize her. 

“What are you doing in our home?” he demanded, but his wife shook her head. 

“I must be dreaming,” she whispered, and she stood up as well. “Y/N? Is… is that you?” 

“Leya,” Y/N said, and she felt the pinpricks of tears behind her eyes, “you remember.” 

Leya laughed and clasped her hands together as she moved closer and pulled her into an embrace. “Of course I remember you, darling! How could I forget the little waterbender who always managed to soak my laundry just as it had finished drying?” 

“Gan’s girl,” the man—Lao—marveled, and he laughed as well. “What in Kyoshi’s name are you doing here?” 

“It’s hard to explain,” she said, slightly sheepish as she pulled out of Leya’s hug. “But basically… I’m here to save the village.” 

Lao shook his head with a smile—that same smile she remembered from her youth, a mix of approval and surprise. “You haven’t been here since the invasion and now you’re here to save our village. You haven’t changed a bit.” 

“What can I say?” she said with a slight laugh. “I’ve been busy with the Avatar.” 

“The Avatar?” Leya asked, and Y/N held up her hand. 

“As much as I’d love to tell you both what I’ve been up to all these years, we’re working on a schedule.”

“‘We’?” Lao caught. “Who else is here with you?” 

She didn’t think she could exactly say the crown prince of the Fire Nation, no matter how reformed he claimed to be.

“A friend of the Avatar,” she decided. “He’s waiting for my signal. That’s when the action’s going to start.” 

“What exactly is your plan?” Leya asked tentatively. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but our numbers aren’t the highest. Those who haven’t been sent away as laborers had their spirits broken long ago. There are very few with any kind of fight left in them.” 

“That’s okay,” she said. “I’ve got more than enough fight in me for this whole village. But I need your help.” 

Lao nodded. “Anything.” 

She smiled, a miniscule amount of weight dropping off her shoulders in relief. “Good.” 

-

Appa was stashed securely in the woods, a rucksack full of moon peaches to keep him happy and quiet, but Zuko was still nervous. 

How couldn’t he be, hiding behind a gaudy metal structure pretending to be a house that fit into this village? He was only the traitor boy prince of the Fire Nation, most likely with a wanted poster and a bounty on his head courtesy of his father. 

He wasn’t scared, though. 

Nervous? Sure. But he couldn’t wait to give these soldiers what they deserved. 

Zuko’s eyes snapped towards the sudden movement across the way—the Fire Nation banner had been ripped down from the house Y/N went into, and the woman who did it held her fist in the air for a moment before darting back inside. 

The signal. 

It was time. 

Zuko took a deep breath, pulled his broadswords out of their sheaths, and started moving. 

It didn’t take long to find a guard, standing at his assignment near some light post. Zuko dashed behind him and brought his swords up to his neck. 

“Stay quiet if you want to keep your head,” he said. “Nod if you understand.” 

The guard nodded, but Zuko saw his hand clenching into a fist. He moved one sword down, and he froze in place as the sharp edge settled against his skin. 

“No firebending either,” he growled. “You wanna test my patience some more, or are you ready to cooperate?” 

“I— I’ll cooperate,” he stammered. “Just don’t hurt me, please. What do you want?” 

It was almost pathetic. These people took over an innocent village, and now they were so confident that they stationed guards like this. Zuko wondered if this man even knew what had been done here. 

“Good,” Zuko said. “Who’s in charge here?” 

“General Lee,” he said, and Zuko had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Of course. “He— he’s the one who took over this place at the beginning. The one who ordered the invasion.” 

“And where is he?” 

“The biggest house at the end of the lane,” he said. “You— you can’t miss it.” 

Zuko thanked the soldier for his information by knocking the flat end of one blade against his head, and he took a step back as the man fell to the ground, unconscious. 

Step one complete. 

-

“How is your earthbending?” Y/N asked. She and Lao moved swiftly through the village under the cover of darkness, avoiding soldiers where they were stationed as they conversed in low voices. 

“Not as sharp as it used to be,” Lao said. “I’ve been hiding it since the invasion—otherwise they would have killed me or sent me away. What do you need it for?” 

Once again, that sheepishness came back. The plan she and Zuko created sounded very outlandish when she said it out loud. 

“I want to destroy the factory.” 

“You certainly don't aim low, huh?” Lao chuckled a bit, but he flexed his hands nonetheless. He moved his fist forward and a short pillar of solid rock shot up from the ground. “I’ve still got some of it, at least.”

“That’s why I asked for your help,” she said. “The Fire Nation builds everything out of metal, but I think they forget that rocks are pretty effective against it.” 

Lao smiled as he sent the rock back down into the earth. “I like how you think.” 

She smiled as well, but her head shot up at the movement near them. She stepped protectively in front of Lao, her instincts above anything, but the tension dissolved when she saw it was just Zuko. 

“Did you find out where he is?” she asked, and he nodded. 

“His name is Lee— General Lee,” he said. “The last house,” he pointed, “that way. You can’t miss it.” 

“Good.” She cracked her knuckles. “I have some things I’d like to say to him.” 

“Y/N,” he said, “he’s…” 

“What?” 

“He’s the one who did all of this,” Zuko said. “The one who ordered the invasion. He’s been here ever since.” 

Her jaw clenched as she felt fire ignite inside of her. “Then maybe I have a little bit more to say to him.” 

“Take this.” Zuko took one of his swords off along with its sheath and handed it to her. “Just in case.” 

She nodded, taking some satisfaction in her practice swings before she stashed it across her back, then she looked at Lao. “You two are going to take down the factory together. Is anyone in it still?” 

He shook his head. “Shifts ended a few hours ago. It should be completely empty.” 

“Good.” Y/N looked at Zuko. “How do you feel about causing some explosions?” 

He smirked. “Pretty great.” 

“And how do you feel about crushing a lot of stuff?” she asked, turning to Lao. 

“Even better.” 

“Great,” she smiled. “Obviously, this is going to make a lot of noise. Get out when you feel danger—we might have to bring this fight to the streets.” 

Lao cracked his knuckles. “Gladly. It’s about time we take our home back.” 

“Laya’s alerted the people?” Y/N asked. 

He nodded. “She’s gone house to house—she should be near the end by now. She and the rest of our people will be safe, and anyone who’s willing to fight will be ready for my signal.” 

“Then I think it’s time we split,” Y/N said. 

“Be careful,” Zuko said. “Don’t let your anger blind you.” 

“I’ll do what I have to do,” she said simply. 

Zuko nodded in understanding. “See you on the other side, then.” 

“See you on the other side,” she murmured. 

-

Y/N got used to the weight of the broadsword in her hand as she moved through the village yet again. She was surprised at how easy it was, how inattentive the few guards were. Their confidence would be their downfall. 

It wasn’t hard to find the house of the general. It was so massive it edged on gaudy, obviously built for nothing but the man’s ego. The door wasn’t locked, and she just shook her head as she slid inside. This was ridiculous. 

She closed the door as quietly as she could behind her, and she held her breath as she looked around the first floor. It was eerily empty, eerily silent. Maybe he wasn’t here. 

Y/N tightened the grip on the hilt of the sword as she crept up the stairs, wincing at every creak. The whole upstairs was the general’s room, and she shook her head. This was more luxury than anyone in the village lived in. He’d built his comfort off the pain of her people. 

“Would you like to tell me what you’re doing in my home?” 

She whipped around, her sword instinctively flying up as she stared right at her target. So he was here, and he’d been just as quiet as her. He was younger than she expected, but his eyes told everything she needed to know. 

“General Lee,” she said, and she was surprised at how steady her voice was. “This isn’t your home.” 

“Isn’t it?” He was dressed in a simple tunic and pants, no armor in sight. Good. “I was here when it was built, and as far as I’m aware, it was built for my use.” 

“You took it from my people,” she said. “You took everything from us.” 

“I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific,” he said nonchalantly. “I’ve taken over a lot of villages.” 

“Do you not have any shame?” Y/N demanded, and she pointed her sword at him. He didn’t even flinch. “Destroying the lives of innocent people, tearing apart their homes for resources, occupying them just to show off your strength. You kill people, you destroy families, and you don’t even care?” 

The general had the nerve to smile. “It’s the way of the world. The weak fall, the strong prevail. I guess your people were just weak.” 

Y/N couldn’t control herself after that. She yelled out as she lunged forward and swung with her sword. The general sidestepped her as she whirled back around, and he just laughed. 

“You want to fight, girl?” General Lee mocked. “For what? Your people? Your honor? You won’t get far, I assure you.” 

“For my family!” she growled. “Your men killed my father and forced my mother and I into servitude. I’ve wanted revenge for so many years, and now I can finally get it.” 

His eyes lit with recognition and he raised his eyebrows. “The waterbenders. So you managed to escape—impressive.” 

And then suddenly, there were two massive explosions. They were all the way across town, but it still rocked the foundations of the house. The impact must’ve been felt all over town, surely alerting every guard on duty that something was wrong.

Step two was complete. 

It was Y/N’s turn to smile at the general. “There goes your factory.” 

The general’s mocking confidence melted into cold anger. “You—” 

“Blew it up,” she responded. “Yeah.” 

She lashed out with her sword to force him out of the way, then booked it down the stairs and out of the house. She laughed in pure exhilaration as she saw all of the guards in the street, as well as the general running out of his house. The fire blazing in his hand matched the anger in his eyes. 

“You want a fight, girl?” he growled. “I’ll give you one!” 

General Lee launched the fireball at her and she dodged out of the way, watching as it sizzled against the ground. She held her sword in both hands, beckoning him to come further. It wouldn’t be an easy fight to win against an enraged firebender, but then again—she’d done it before. 

He was far too eager to go against a young girl as he shot fire at her in repetitive blasts. She dodged what she could and slashed through the others with her sword, lunging at him with the blade when Lee gave her space. 

But then fire shot past, narrowly missing her, and her head whipped around. It took these soldiers long enough to realize the fight was happening right next to them. 

“Come on, Zuko,” she muttered as she backed away from the men, the general and the soldiers narrowing in on her. She brandished her sword. “Where are you?”

“You’ve picked a battle that you can’t finish,” General Lee spat as fire lit in his hand, “just like your father!”

Rage hotter than anything before ignited inside of her. And then, everything happened at once. 

The general and his soldiers shot their fire at her. 

Someone yelled at her to duck, and she dropped to the ground. 

As the fire was extinguished above her, General Lee’s eyes widened. He took a step back. “What in Agni’s name—” 

“I’m not too late, am I?” Zuko reached a hand down to her, and Y/N let out a relieved breath. 

“Right on time,” she remarked as she took it and allowed him to help her up. “I’m in a bit of a situation.” 

“I noticed.” Zuko turned to the general and gestured with his head behind them. “I’m sorry, general, but I think someone blew up your factory!”

“Prince Zuko,” he said sourly. “So you’re a traitor as well.”

“I’m not a traitor,” he said, stepping in front of Y/N ever so slightly. “I’m helping free these people from your glorified slavery.”

The general’s eyes narrowed. “So all it takes for the crown prince to give up his values is a pretty face.”

“You’re a sick man,” Zuko spat. “Take your soldiers, leave this village, and we’ll give you the mercy you never extended to her people.”

“I don’t think so,” Lee said, and he smiled. “Don’t worry, though—this’ll all be over soon. Unless you think you can go against every soldier here on your own.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time we’ve been outnumbered,” Y/N said, and she drew her sword. “Besides—”

“—They’ve got help,” someone interrupted. She looked behind her and saw Lao, followed by a myriad of villagers—some earthbenders, some that were just ready to end this. More than she thought still lived here, more willing to fight than she thought. 

So everyone’s spirit wasn’t broken. 

She smiled. Step three. 

“So you want to make this harder,” General Lee said. “I admire your tenacity, but it won’t do you much good.”

“We’ll see,” Zuko said. 

Lee didn’t even say anything before he started firebending, and Zuko blocked it yet again. The battle immediately escalated from there, earthbenders and soldiers and swordsmen fighting. It was mostly visible in flashes of fire and the occasional lamppost, but it was loud.

Y/N and Zuko fought side by side against the general, their moves seamless—whenever one fell back, the other would step forward. She was surprisingly good with a sword, but it might’ve been her adrenaline.

With the amount of energy and anger pumping through her veins, she was sure she could take on anything at that moment. And having Zuko with her… She would be lying if she said it didn’t help. 

It was a deadly dance between the three of them. Y/N’s sword sung as it cut through the air, and it was in sharp contrast to the explosions of fire in the background and the general’s own bending against them. 

Maybe it was that adrenaline inside of her, or maybe it was the thought of finally getting to deliver justice for her village. Maybe the spirits were finally on her side. But whatever it was, General Lee ended up stumbling as he dodged the sword’s jab at him, and it gave her enough time for Zuko to kick him in the chest and send him backwards. Y/N took the opening and swept his legs, putting all her strength into the single move, and it worked. 

He fell to the ground, a slight grunt being forced out as he landed on his back, and Y/N pointed her sword at his neck. She took immense satisfaction in the flicker of fear in his eyes. 

“Zuko,” she said placidly, “go help the others.” 

He looked at her for a good, long moment before he conceded with a step back. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret.” 

“I won’t regret this,” she murmured. 

Zuko’s gaze remained on her for another moment before he turned and ran back into the fray. Y/N could do nothing but stare down at the general. The man who took everything away from her in one short afternoon, now defenseless below her blade. 

“So,” she said, “after all this time, all it took was one fight for you to fall.” 

The general gave her a wry smile. “It wasn’t exactly a fair fight.” 

“Neither was the invasion of my village. But that didn’t stop you, did it?” 

“You savages have never understood,” he growled. “No great leader has ever gotten anywhere by being nice, by yielding to the demands of those lesser than him. There’s a reason the Fire Nation is at the world’s helm while every other nation continues to fall to its feet.” 

“Because you go after the defenseless!” she exclaimed. “You go after those who can’t do anything against you, and then you destroy everything you find. All you care about is power.” Y/N huffed a mirthless laugh and gestured around them. “And look where that’s gotten you.” 

“Yield,” she demanded before he had the chance to speak, moving her sword closer to his neck. “Yield, and leave this village, and I’ll let you leave with your life.”

The general laughed, followed by a wince as her blade nicked his skin. “Don’t you know anything about the Fire Nation? You served there for so long.”

“Yield!” she shouted, her voice trembling along with her grip. She just wanted this to be over. 

“We fight until death,” he continued. “You’re going to have to kill me if you want your way.”

“You think I won’t?” she challenged. ”You’ve taken everything from me! Your life is too small a price to pay for what you’ve done!”

“I think you’re weak,” he spat. “Too weak to do what you need to do.”

Her eyes stung with tears as she pulled the sword away from his neck.

General Lee huffed a laugh. “Like I said: you’re wea—”

He was stopped in the middle of his sentence as she plunged the sword into his heart. His eyes widened as he choked out his last breath, the light beginning to drain out of him. And then he was gone.

“I’m not weak anymore,” she murmured. 

Y/N stared at his lifeless body for a moment, glanced at the gleam of blood on metal. 

She had just killed a man. The one responsible for her father’s death, for the imprisonment of her and her mother, for the invasion of her village. 

Y/N didn’t feel remorse, didn’t feel satisfaction—but she felt whole. Like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

She sheathed her sword and walked away, back towards the chaos of the ongoing fight. Zuko had joined the others, fighting with a combination of his sword and his bending, and it worked wonders. For a moment, all she could do was watch him. The grace he fought with was akin to that of a waterbender. 

Lao moved like he was twenty years younger, working in tandem with other earthbenders as they took down the Fire Nation forces soldier by soldier. Toph would have been proud.

But now there was only one thing left to do. 

Y/N took a deep breath then cupped her hands around her mouth, yelling as loudly as she could. “Soldiers of the Fire Nation! Your general is dead!”

That was enough of a shock to knock them off their balance, because Zuko and the earthbenders all immobilized their foes. Zuko with a sword to the neck, Lao and his crew with rocks around their legs and other limbs. The fight died down quickly, all of them staring at her. Zuko’s expression was impossible to read. 

“You heard me,” she repeated, “General Lee is dead. You have no stake in this village anymore. Leave, or face the same fate as him.”

“Will you stand here and fight for a nation that doesn’t care about you?” Zuko shouted, catching on to her goal. “Or will you do what’s right and leave these people be?”

Silence hung in the air, only broken by the heaved breaths of soldiers and earthbenders alike. She stared at them all expectantly, her heart pounding in her chest. 

And then, the clatter of a sword against the ground.

“I surrender.” A soldier being held in place by rocks around her ankles had dropped her weapon, looking Y/N straight in the eye. “I’ve served the Fire Nation blindly for far too long.”

She nodded at the earthbender, and he retracted the stone around her. 

“Go,” Y/N said. “Back to wherever you came from.” 

“Your mercy…” the soldier murmured, and she shook her head. “Thank you for giving us a second chance. I know it means little, but I apologize. For everything.”

And then she walked off—in the direction of the shore, she noticed—and soon enough, she’d disappeared into the wood. They must’ve come in on ships. 

Slowly, the remaining soldiers either dropped their weapons or declared their own surrender, and one by one they were let go. The sound of clattering metal was music to her ears, and with each one the weight lifted a little more. 

The soldier in Zuko’s hold was the last to drop his sword, and Zuko kicked it away before removing his blade from his neck. As he walked away, she let out a sigh of relief.

“…We did it,” she said. “We finally did it.”

“You did it,” Zuko said as he sheathed his sword, doing the same to the other when Y/N handed it to him. “None of this would have been possible without you.” 

“Wouldn’t have been possible without you either,” she said, and the smallest smile tugged at his lips. 

Lao walked up to her, and he enveloped her in the biggest, tightest hug she’d felt since Katara’s at the air temple. She reciprocated immediately, tears springing into her eyes at the warmth he carried. 

“You did it,” he said, his voice and eyes full of pride as he pulled away, though his hands remained on her shoulders. “You’ve given us the freedom that none of us could attain in seven years. We owe everything to you, Y/N.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” she said, unable to help her grin, and she looked back at the other villagers. “Any of you—thank you so much. Tonight, you fought for our people! You fought for our village! And we’re finally free from the Fire Nation.” 

A wild cheer erupted from the group, and Y/N had to wipe away the tears that began to fall. They’d really done it. 

“Go, be with your families!” she exclaimed. “Celebrate with your loved ones! You deserve it—enjoy your freedom!” 

Several of the villagers clapped her on the shoulder or shook her hand as they began to wander around, returning back to their houses. She heard one discussing architectural plans, about what they would do with everything the Fire Nation left behind, as well as their houses. The smile wouldn’t leave her face. 

And then Zuko walked up, alerting her to his presence by clearing his throat. “Y/N,” he said, and she turned around. 

“What?” 

“First of all, congratulations.” His own small smile was there, and she felt her cheeks warm. “You freed your village from a seven year occupation. It’s amazing.” 

“It feels amazing.” She rubbed her arms, the cold of the night beginning to get to her as her adrenaline from the battle started to fade. “I can’t believe we did it.” 

“I’m not surprised,” Zuko said. “You can do anything you put your mind to—I’ve learned that twenty times over by now.” 

She chuckled a bit, but Zuko’s expression sobered. “But I have to ask. You… you killed the general.” 

The air between them immediately changed. “I did.” 

“How do you feel?” he asked. 

“I don’t feel happy,” Y/N said, “so you don’t have to worry about that. I’m not going to start killing everyone that’s ever wronged me.” 

Zuko laughed, though it was slightly nervous. “That’s, uh— that’s good.” 

“But I don’t feel sad either,” she said. “I just feel… right. Like it was something I had to do. Not just for my people, but for me. To know that he’ll never be able to hurt someone the way he hurt me.” 

“...Good,” Zuko repeated. “That’s all we can ask for, isn’t it?” 

She nodded. “But… I’d appreciate it if you kept this between us. At least until I’m ready to tell everyone.” 

“Of course,” he agreed. 

“Good,” she said. 

Y/N looked up at the sky, the sun having fully set. It was dark except for the bits of ashes that littered the battlefield and the lanterns that lit up the path through the village. But there was still something she needed to do. 

She looked back at Zuko. “I have something I need to see. And I want you to come with me. Is… is that okay?” 

He smiled, his voice soft when he spoke. “I’d love to.” 

- 

The path she led him down was one well-traveled by the people of her village—the inky darkness they walked through was penetrated only by the flames Zuko held in his hand at Y/N’s request. She knew she would be able to find her way without it, though. 

“Where are we going?” he asked. 

“Somewhere special,” Y/N answered. “Sad, but special. Somewhere I’ve thought about a lot since my mother and I were taken.” 

It took a few more minutes of walking in silence only disturbed by night ambiance. When they got there, Y/N let out a quiet sigh. There was unimaginable weight behind the sound. 

“We’re here.” 

“Where is ‘here’?” Zuko asked tentatively. But then he made the fire in his hand bigger and brighter, and his breath caught in his throat. 

“...Hi, Dad,” she said softly, her gaze focused on the headstone. “It’s me. Your little girl finally found her way back home.” 

“Y/N…” he murmured. 

“I’ve been wanting to come here for a long time, but I’ve never been able to,” she continued. “But you don’t have to worry anymore—the village is free. The Fire Nation is gone. And Mom is okay—she’s safe in Ba Sing Se, and after all of this is over, I’m going to find her again, and I’m going to take care of her. You don’t have to worry about us anymore.” Y/N chuckled. “I’m sure I’ve been driving you crazy with everything I’ve been doing lately. But you can rest in peace now.”  

“Are you sure you want me here?” he asked. “I— I don’t want to disturb you—” 

She shook her head, placing her hand lightly on his arm. “Stay. Please.” 

“...Okay,” he said. “Of course.” 

“This is Zuko,” she said, and she laughed a bit as he hesitantly waved. “He’s… he’s the most important person in my life.” 

His eyes widened a bit and he looked at her, but her only response was to wordlessly slip her hand into his. He didn’t hesitate to lace his fingers through hers. 

“We’ve been through a lot together, and I’ve… I’ve been really angry at him lately. And I thought it was good, righteous anger, but all it did was eat me up inside. I’ve been miserable because of it—I even lost my bending. But now… now, I understand.” 

She looked at Zuko now. His gaze hadn’t moved. 

“I love you,” she said, “and I mean that with everything in me. I’ve been so angry at you because of what you did that I haven’t let myself think about anything that you’ve done—and you’ve helped my friends so much since you joined them. You’ve helped me too, even when I claimed I didn’t need anyone.” 

“And all this time, I thought that letting you go was what I needed to do. But I couldn’t have been more wrong.” She tightened her grip on his hand—her lifeline. “I’ve lost so much in my life, Zuko, things that I can’t get back. And I’m not going to let myself lose you again.” 

Y/N pressed a gentle kiss to Zuko’s lips, and he extinguished the fire in his hand as he immediately reciprocated it. It was impossibly soft, impossibly right. And Y/N knew then that this was exactly where she was supposed to be. 

“I love you too,” he murmured, and his eyes shone even in the darkness. “More than anything. And I’m so sorry that I ever made you think anything else.” 

She pulled away from the kiss to embrace him, and when his arms wrapped around her, it was like home. The constant twist in her chest, the constant weight she’d been carrying for months—it dissipated, and she felt lighter than ever. Spirits, it all felt so right. 

And when they pulled away, Y/N rested her head on Zuko’s chest. He responded by wrapping his arm around her waist, pulling her in close. 

“Thank you for taking me here,” he said. “For trusting me enough with it.” 

“Thank you for never giving up on me,” she said. 

“Speaking of that…” Zuko said, and there was a slight lilt to his voice as he lit the fire in his hand again. “How about trying that bending again?” 

Y/N chuckled a bit as she looked at her hand, flexing her fingers the way she used to. She barely had to concentrate as she pulled moisture from the air, forming into an orb of water in the air. She wasn’t even shocked—she’d known, after they got here. It wasn’t anything concrete, just… a feeling. A feeling that order had returned. 

“It’s back,” he said, and the boyish surprise in his voice made her smile. 

“That it is.” 

Y/N formed it into a flower and then froze it, gingerly taking the stem in her fingers. She walked up to her father’s grave, running her fingers over the engravings. She wasn’t here when it was made, but she was so thankful it had been made. That her people had always been thinking of her and her family. 

GAN 

HUSBAND OF KURA, FATHER OF Y/N

48 AG-93 AG

WILL BE REMEMBERED FOR HIS LOVE AND HEROICS

It was bittersweet, but she was glad he had a spot here. He would always be remembered. 

She carefully placed the flower of ice against the headstone, lowering the temperature of her breath as she blew on it to preserve it longer. It would melt eventually, of course, but this wouldn’t be her last time here. Next time, there would be real flowers. 

“I love you, Dad,” she murmured, resting her head against the stone as she closed her eyes. “Forever and always.” She stayed there for a moment, and the gentle breeze that blew through the enclave was no coincidence. For the first time in a very, very long time, she felt peace inside. 

She stood back up with a sad smile, wiping at the tears before she turned to Zuko. “I’m ready.” 

“Are you sure?” 

Y/N nodded. “I am.” 

Zuko nodded too, and they started to walk together down the path. 

And when he offered his hand, she took it without hesitation. 

-

hope you enjoyed this mf emotional marathon of a chapter lmao im gonna go hibernate for a few months because jfc

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[accirax]

initial thoughts on DCAS episode 11

oh my god

i had already guessed that Alec was lying (much like Jake did), but this was a really nice explanatory touch! Alec and Riya's friendship is, as usual, one of the season highlights for me.

would've been a lot more interesting if the campers could have chosen their own partners in one way or another, imo, but that would definitely eat up a lot of time in an already packed episode. plus, some pairings (like Connor and Riya) probably couldn't have happened this way, given how Riya wound up reacting to Connor.

"alright Fiore, here's how we prevent you from going home this week," one could say.

i was SO worried that Alec was going to have another confessional at some point being like "lol i was testing my acting skills on Fiore too" but he DIDN'T. which means this is CANON. THE ADOPTION IS BACK ON!!!!!!!!

okay, i actually love the decision to pair Hunter and Grett together here. both of them are the "very flawed but kinda mistreated partner of their appearances-obsessed date," so it makes sense that Hunter could give Grett a good perspective on this. also, is it just me, or did they rework Hunter's personality in this episode to be more like S2? i liked it.

i'm going to put every Fiore and Alec moment in this post and you can't stop me. i am initially thinking about them.

"joke's on you fucker i didn't teach her literally any of this. she's just built different."

as much as i enjoy Alec appreciating his daughter's sass, this does seem like a pretty radical heel turn from "i only voted Connor out of this game because it was what was best for him." i guess maybe spending time with Riya and the other villains has caused Alec to fall further off the deep end/forget about Connor's genuinely nice qualities...? or it's inconsistency between different writers, who knows.

i am 0% a jul(?) shipper, but, damn, the jul shippers were eating well this episode.

Yul is such an interesting little guy.

James flexing his character arc, we love to see it.

WHAT IS IT WITH THE CYAN WOMEN AND SECRETLY BEING JACKED????

society..... it's becoming more utopian........

see, this is why i didn't think Tess would be the one to return to the game.

Aiden is such a hater, i love him. but, overall, i agree with Lake. we're definitely sowing the seeds for a Jake redemption(/winner?) arc and a heroes' reunion.

Riya, finally finishing what she started in S2 of making the gays fall off cliffs.

villains are so fun. i love villains.

THE SOFT DAD SMILE IS BACK :D

ooh, nice callback.

this is an objectively funny screenshot. why does Alec yell like that

what a surprising outcome! (/s /lh)

:,) <3

i wish Aiden and James had more of an opportunity to talk during this episode :/ it's fine, though-- i think that James and Lake's characters were used more effectively this way.

they're getting back together after this trust me guys i'm disventure camp

YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAY

they truly are family now. i love it.

"not that bad" is a weird way to describe your would-be crush.

this will be a fun scene! idk which episode "Saturday" will be, though. both because idk how many days will pass in any given episode and also bc i don't recall which day today is in canon.

i do wonder what evil Gabby is doing here. i guess maybe it'll just be the side of Gabby that wants to run with the villains alliance for power vs the side that wants to follow Ellie's advice? that seems kind of weird. maybe it'll be more like the side that wants to go mad with power on the revenge quest vs Gabby's more rational and strategic side? either way, strange cliffhanger.

can't we just have everyone here... always... all the time...? no? okay :( well, it was still really nice to get the whole gang back together for this episode. i'll look forward to seeing them again in the finale.

and, hey, Connor's back in the game now! and he can't be eliminated next episode, at least. are there going to be three players with immunity...? that could get spicy. we'll see how the heroes and villains smack down when the next real elimination rolls around. back up to ten to nine again... see you next time!

[mywitchcultblr]

Odd question for you:

So, the humor of Batstarion aside, do some people just elect to read their own biases into things involving Ascended Astarion. I recall being early in the fandom and assuming based on general commentary he just locked you in his basement and then molests you.

Then: when I actually ascended him and am looking forward to this whole fantasy I just get a goofy, camp vampire Lord who literally lets you live your life. Where do I get a refund? Where is my vampire daddy? lol

Am I alone in this???

No, you are not alone. I found a lot of people who have a strong negative opinion about endings for bg3 companion... How I should explain it in English? Playing the telephone game? Where they are only receiving bits of information and never really experienced the ending themselves or at least never really thought about it deeply because they already developed a bias from these fragmented information and encouragement from like-minded people who share the same bias. Thus, the truth and nuance became diluted amidst the buzz and discourse. For example, Gale endings

GALE HAS NO EVIL ENDING. YES, THE GOD ENDING IS NOT EVIL

People mistook his ambition and huge ego as evil? I think this rooted from "God Gale doesn't propose Tav/Durge unlike human gale, so God ending must have been bad"

"Gale become power hungry, so it must be the evil ending and a bad ending" and "Larian said power is bad"

Gale is a neutral guy, as a human he is neutral good and as a God he became a neutral aligned God. His ascension to Godhood doesn't turn him into Bane or Bhaal, developing an ego big enough to the point he became a god doesn't make him evil or this ending evil. You might dislike it, but objectively, this ending is not evil or bad...

Gale bad ending is him dying and never resurrected, never recruited or sacrificed to BOAAL because they led to his untimely death before he can destroy the brain, reach the crown, or determine what he wanted, how he will approach Mystra...

"But Mystra will kill God Gale because he challenged her!" That is a possibility in his origin ending, before the epilogue is even released, now we got to see new and improved epilogue Gale can take his lover to his realm where they will enjoy their life as Gods, and he has a lot of plan, and although he kinda insinuates that he wanted to challenge Mystra, maybe Tav or Durge can persuade him to not do it

"What if he has no romantic partner?" Maybe he will challenge her, or maybe he will not. I found the ending where Gale immediately going after Mystra to be frustrating, it feels like Larian insisting on the 'power bad' thing in such an on the nose and irritating manner

Gale might have a big ego but HE IS NOT AN IDIOT, he is not a barbarian with 8 intellect, even when he's drunk on power he is still a highly intellectual person/being, and surely he should know that it will take a lot of time and resource for him to be able to challenge Mystra, is it even a good idea to fight her? What would AO say?

He should just focus on his own domain and followers

Same thing with Wyll, this guy HAS NO EVIL ENDING. WYLL CANNOT BE CORRUPTED. Yet there are people out there who say that him becoming a Duke is an evil ending, HOW?!

Now, Astarion... God help us all with this guy. The moment I saw his picture for the first time, I know his fandom will be a disaster

White, sassy, morally gray, handsome, twink, vampire with a sad backstory... The perfect tumblr sexyman, I love him, but I knew the conversation about him will be a mess and headache inducing

Ascendant Astarion is NOT a bad ending, is it evil? Yes, is it bad? No.

It is bad for the city to have yet another vampire lord, an even MORE powerful vampire lord who has no vampirism weakness, but this is NOT bad for him. He enjoyed the power, he enjoyed the freedom, and he finally reclaimed everything that Cazador took from him and even more. I found the notion that ascended astarion 'is not truly free' to be baffling because Cazador is gone, no one can compel him and enslave him anymore, and he is freed from all vampirism weakness.

So long Cazador is dead, both spawn and ascended astarion will be free and have the choice to lead the life they wanted. An outsider moral interpretation of his choice is not his own opinion

"Ascended Astarion regret his choice." No, he never did. I didn't find a single conversation or scene that say he regrets his ascension

"Ascended Astarion is meaner and more evil, so this fate is bad." Your feeling about him doesn't translate to what he feels and how he sees his life and choice...

Or like you said about people claimed. "Astarion will lock Tav/Durge in his basement and molest them" Now, is ascendant romance more toxic and darker than spawn romance? Yes (although it is pretty tame by vampire/yandere standard) but how he treat his lover also depends on Tav/Durge attitude towards him, their personality, their goal and YOUR OWN ideas/ interpretation...

Baldur's Gate give you 'hard canon' and things that you can interpret on your own because it is dungeon & dragons! Hard canon or fixed canon is something like "Orin will die either way" and "If you don't spare nightsong then Last Light will be destroyed." and then there are things that you can decide and interpret on your own such as how your Tav/Durge fare after the last battle, their background, their family, and how their romance with companions play out

There are dialogues or scenes that hinted the future but at the same time there are several options and each dialogue option will lead to a different universe such as whatever you encourage Wyll to be the blade of avernus or becoming a Duke

What irritated me is that there's people who doesn't like his ascension romance, and they be like "Well I don't like this romance and i don't like him now, so I see your Tav/Durge WILL NEVER BE HAPPY WITH HIM AND IT IS A FACT!" NO, THAT IS NOT HOW IT IS WORK!

You cannot enforce your own narrative perspective into other people's. "What about the 'freedom' dialogue in patch 5?! If you clash with Astarion he will-" like I said each dialogue choice lead to a branching multiverse, just because one person have a conflict with ascended astarion doesn't mean my Tav who is very devoted to him have the same problem or will not be happy

Also, patch 5 confirmed the theory that Astarion turned his lover into a bride/groom instead of regular spawn. If you chose a dialogue option that hinted Tav/Durge feel trapped and doubted if they are truly flourishing, then Astarion will say something like (I'm paraphrasing here) "Well, I give you everything! And I will make sure that you live your best life, even if you don't appreciate it!"

A bride/groom has an emotional and mental link with their creator, if Tav/Durge is not happy then Ascended Astarion will feel unhappy as well. Mind you my Tav (Astaroth) doesn't say he feels trapped, he said that he is happy with Astarion and grateful to share everything with him and then Astarion said that he is blessed to be with Astaroth as well then he also said:

"I may have power, but it would be nothing without you. You complete me."

I don't do Karlach romance, and although I have my own thoughts that if Astaroth romanced her (tbh the guy is gay so he has to be bi/pan in alternate universe) in the end he will feel a bit disappointed with being trapped in hell, doesn't mean I have the rights to ENFORCE that Karlach/Tav romance in general will be unhappy and tragic just because of MY OWN interpretation...

People also shouldn't enforce their own choice for Astarion as

"THE TRUE AND CORRECT CHOICE FOR ASTARION AND IF YOU DISAGREE WITH ME YOU ARE DELUSIONAL AND DUMB"

[nilboxes]

Hi! I love the way you write the relationship between Aventurine and Ratio in your fics and I wanted to know I'd they were each other's firsts? First kiss, first handholding, etc. Or if they had experience before meeting each other.

Hello, Anon! Thank you for the kind words, it's pretty nice to hear you enjoy them 🤗

I am firmly in the camp that Ratio isn't exactly clueless about relations, and has had some during all his years in academia and in his career. There would have been a handful of hidden away action late at night in the lab, though his partners never last too long. He'd just think dating is a little bit of a pain, but he does enjoy the "stimulation" so he figures he can just... do it himself most of the time when he needs release, which is a little far in-between. Essentially he is a beginner at these things, but not quite clueless!

Aventurine on the other hand, I think he's done a lot of things with others already. Kisses, being in bed, etc etc. But a lot of it is casual, never serious, he's the hedonistic sort, he would have experimented.

It is my little pet headcanon that he and Diamond had/have relations. (Imagine whatever's comfortable for you sorry XD, even if I wrote a fic between them I think a lot of it is still up in the air for now) Diamond would send people his way as a mole, or as a means of keeping him in-check, since I feel out of all the Stonehearts for now, he is the one who doesn't exactly *want* for anything, and therefore might be prone to getting ~ideas~ but this is also some mind games between them imo anyway Aventurine would have thoroughly enjoyed the company of those people before sending them on their way, so he's got some dubious relationship experience. I think this is necessary for my interpret of him because like, he's never had a healthy one before, but he knows what an unhealthy one looks like and doesn't do that with Ratio, he's got a little foundation to that I guess.

Anyway I do believe though that they are each other's first rather healthy relationship (situationship) and in a way, all manner of things are their first. Their first kiss and first time doing it will still be the Final Victor LC for me, but it's the smaller, more mundane things that matter with them.

I imagine, the first time they had like non-sexual contact would be probably a scenario sometime before Penacony project, Aventurine and Ratio would need to vacate premises really fast and Aventurine takes Ratio's hand and leads him out of there. First-ish kinda date MAAAYBE would likely be the shopping spree they did to create a mass negative feelings event in Penacony (I intend to write two versions of these probably, one in the omegaverse AU and another one as a standalone augh)

I also recall the first time either of them stayed the night was when Aventurine got sick. Nothing happened between them, but for Ratio, waking up beside someone is a highly novel experience I would think! He's just the type of guy who wouldn't like to stay over because he prefers his own pillows and beddings better but thanks to Aventurine's highly luxurious tastes it happened (of course I am joking it was because Aven was really sick but lol this was a big factor also)

Really thinking about a lot of their firsts also LOL I wonder where their first romantic kiss would be... like a legitimate I want to kiss you and you want to kiss me moment outdoors but they were alone if I ever wrote that out...

Anyway sorry for taking so long to answer! I was really wracking my brains for this HAHA uhh thanks for the ask again ♥

[cetaitlaverite]

Why All This Music?

Masters of the Air - Rosie Rosenthal x OC

masterlist is linked here <3 i hope you guys like me again now lol

35. The Simple Pleasure

Freddie and Rosie woke up in her bed, tangled even tighter together than they’d fallen asleep. Their legs were intertwined, so were their arms and hands, and Freddie’s face was tucked into Rosie’s neck while his nestled into the top of her head.

Rosie woke first and marvelled at their closeness. There was something so intimate about sleeping like this. They had made love many times, yes, but spending the night wrapped up in each other was a level of closeness which fascinated him. To have Freddie so close, who had seemed so unattainable for so long - he must have still been dreaming, beguiling himself into believing he wasn’t still stuck in Germany, wandering around that horrible, horrible camp.

Freddie stirred against his chest, attempting to nuzzle closer. She mumbled his name and whined softly before yawning into his neck. He could feel the flutter of her eyelashes against his skin as she opened her eyes.

“You’re still here,” she whispered as she looked up at him. Her brown eyes were full of all the wonder he felt.

“Not going anywhere,” Rosie assured her, smiling wide. He kissed her forehead and the tip of her nose before meeting her lips, kissing her long and intense and deep, trying to communicate the depth of his love.

He felt the change in her when the hand resting on the back of his head started to comb through his curls and grip at them.

“Rosie,” Freddie gasped against his lips, pressing her hips into his. “Need you. Need you.”

“Fred,” he groaned.

“Rosie,” she went on gasping into his mouth, clutching him as close as she could get him. “Right now, baby, need you right now.”

“Fred, your parents -”

“Don’t care,” she cut him off. “We’ll be quiet. They don’t have to know.”

“Fred,” he groaned once more, because neither of them had ever managed to be entirely quiet before.

“Rosie,” she whined, attempting to grind her hips into his. “Please, my love, please. I need it. I wouldn’t be asking if I just wanted it but I need it.”

He ran a hand down her back and slipped it beneath her nightgown. He’d always found it uniquely impossible to deny her things. And, try as he might to be the reasonable party of the two of them, he needed it too. More than he needed to breathe, he felt. 

So they made love as quietly as they were able, holding on tight and whispering the whole time about how much they loved each other, how they never wanted to be parted from each other, how they wanted to spend the rest of their lives waking up just like this.

When they were finished and tired again, Rosie helped Freddie back into her nightgown, just in case one of her parents was to knock, and then got himself back into the shirt and shorts he’d worn to sleep. They curled back into each other in bed, and Rosie watched as Freddie watched him from up close, as her big brown eyes took in his face and committed it to memory even though it was already there, watched as her eyelashes fluttered with both affection and desire, as her lips reminded him of how much she loved him.

“Fred,” he whispered, caressing her hair. 

She smiled. She had never looked more beautiful than she did at this moment, smiling and in love as she gazed back at him in the bed they had shared.

“Will you marry me?” he breathed, pressing their foreheads together.

Her smile lit up her face. He had the perfect view. The hand she had tangled into the back of his hair tightened its grip. She looked wild, almost, in her joy. So, so stunningly beautiful.

“Yes,” she told him. “Yes, I will marry you. I want to marry you right now, in fact.”

Rosie was grinning. “Right now? We don’t have a licence.”

“We’ll get one!” 

“I had a ring to propose with but I think I left it -” He recalled how Croz had packed his bag. Croz, who he had brought with him to help pick out the ring. If Croz had remembered - well, he was about to owe him a whole lot, to say the least.

Rosie rocketed out of bed, grinning even as Freddie complained half-heartedly because she wanted to kiss him some more. He rifled hastily through his bag and found, tucked carefully into one of its corners, the velvet box with the ring he’d bought just after Freddie had forgiven him for re-upping, almost the moment the two of them had returned to Thorpe Abbotts. He’d known she wasn’t ready for a proposal at the time but he had wanted to be prepared, so that the instant she started to drop hints that she was ready he could fall to the ground and pledge himself to her for all eternity.

Rosie was smiling wildly as he rounded the bed to her side and got down on one knee. He’d been waiting to do this for so long. Ever since he’d first met her, really. He believed in his own convictions, had always known deep down that when he met the right person he’d know. And when he met Freddie he knew. He would have married her after two weeks of knowing her if he’d thought she’d let him, but he didn’t resent the scenic route she’d taken him on instead. She was worth the wait.

Freddie was laughing a little bit deliriously as she looked down at Rosie on one knee before her. Her eyes filled with tears as she sat up and swung her legs around the side of the bed to face him.

“Wilfrieda Jane Leroy,” Rosie began, because his mother had told him when he’d written to her about his intentions that any respectable proposal needed to begin with the full name. “Fred,” he added after, because she was always Fred to him. “The light of my life. The love of my life. All the best parts of my life are because of you.”

Freddie giggled here, swiping at her eyes as some of her tears spilled over.

“I don’t wanna ever be apart from you again. Let me tie myself to you, for the rest of my life, so that we can’t be parted.” He presented the little velvet box to her and opened it.

Freddie didn’t even look at the ring. Her eyes were fixed on his.

“Fred. My darling. My sweet, sweet angel. Will you marry me?”

She nodded, rapidly and excitedly. “Yes!” She flung her arms around his neck and fell into his arms, and he caught her, falling back to sit on the floor and clutching her tight to him. “Yes, Rosie, yes! I will marry you!”

He laughed along with her giggling, pressing kisses to every inch of skin he could get his lips on. And when it became clear Freddie had no intentions of letting go anytime soon he pried her left hand away from his hair and took it into his hand. 

“Let’s take this one off for now, huh, sweetheart?” Rosie asked, lifting his eyes to hers for permission and then sliding the fake wedding ring he’d given her off of her finger. Her ring finger was bare for only a moment as he put the old ring on her nightstand - the last time Rosie would see her ring finger bare for the rest of his life, he realised with no small amount of joy - before he slipped the engagement ring he’d picked out in its place. He smiled down at the ring he’d bought sitting there proudly on her finger as she gushed over its beauty.

“It’s perfect,” she declared, marvelling at it, tipping her hand this way and that to watch as the diamond caught the low light peeking around the edges of the curtains. She’d seen it before, yes, and thought it was beautiful, but now that Rosie had put it on for her, had proposed to her - now that she was engaged - it was infinitely more beautiful. Breathtakingly so.

She was getting her proposal after all.

Rosie kissed her then, and he didn’t stop kissing her. And when they finally made it downstairs to share the news with her parents, he couldn’t stop kissing her then, either, though on the temple and the top of the head and the forehead this time instead of the lips.

Rosie had had Felix and Alma’s blessing for a long while by now. A year and two months, if he recalled correctly. And they were so pleased, entirely supportive. Felix simply thanked Rosie for acquiescing to his wishes and waiting until he was sure Freddie was ready. Although, he remarked teasingly, he’d probably overdone it just a little bit with the waiting. Probably she had been ready for a while by now.

Rosie laughed and hugs were shared. Over breakfast Freddie declared that she wanted to get married today. 

“I want you both to be there,” she said to her parents. “But I don’t want to wait for the end of the war. Do you think we can elope? Today? I’m sure we can get a last minute licence. And maybe I could wear your wedding dress, mum?”

Alma laughed. “Wils, are you sure?”

Freddie was grinning. “I couldn’t be more sure. I feel as though I’ve been given a second chance - or a third, as it were. And I don’t intend on wasting it. I’m marrying Rosie or I’m marrying no one, but Rosie’s here and so are you both and I want to get married!”

“Alright,” Alma agreed, laughing. “Rosie, do you also want to get married today?”

“I want nothing more than to get married today,” Rosie replied, grinning. He was squeezing Freddie’s hand beneath the table, trying to hold himself back from smothering her in kisses in front of her parents. 

“Okay,” Alma declared. “Then it’s your wedding day!”

“We’ll have a proper wedding after the war,” Freddie said, giggling. “I want my own dress and I want my friends there - and Rosie’s family should see him get married too, I think. And I’m not very pretty right now, so we can take nice pictures then instead of now.”

When she turned to him, seeking his approval, Rosie was frowning. “What do you mean you’re ‘not very pretty right now’?”

Freddie shrugged, nonchalant. “My skin has been breaking out and I have bags under my eyes and I haven’t been taking good care of my hair. It’s okay, it was all just out of stress and I’m okay now, so it’ll go away.”

“Fred…”

“Not to worry!” she chirped. “We’ll have a proper wedding and I’ll be better. But today I don’t want to not be married for even an hour longer!”

Rosie waited until everyone had dispersed to corner her. Taking her face into his hands in the living room while her parents hurried upstairs, he pressed a long, firm kiss to her lips and then his forehead to hers. “Fred, you have never looked more beautiful. I love you so bad.” When she started to object he cut her off with another kiss because, in spite of whatever she saw when she looked in the mirror, he hadn’t noticed any of it. She was alive and close enough to touch and that was all he’d ever needed her to be.

They wasted time for five minutes more, kissing and clutching at each other and whispering about how these were both their first few hours as an engaged couple and their last few, before Alma came storming down the stairs and forced them apart in no uncertain terms.

“If you two want to get married today, move. Rosie, you need to get rings -”

“We can just use the fake wedding rings we’ve already got,” Freddie cut across her. Alma knew about the fake wedding rings, of course, because Freddie had been wearing hers ever since her parents had driven to pick her up from Thorpe Abbotts. “Do you have yours with you, Rosie?”

“I don’t think getting married with fake wedding rings is appropriate, Wils,” Alma replied before Rosie could.

“But they’re special!” Freddie insisted. “They’re sentimental.”

“They’re real rings,” Rosie explained with a sheepish smile. ”We just used them to pretend to be married.”

“Second hand?” Alma wondered with a raised eyebrow.

Rosie couldn’t quite meet Freddie’s eyes as he shook his head.

Freddie’s eyes were wide. “You told me you pawned them!”

“I couldn’t have my girl walking around wearing someone else’s wedding ring,” Rosie excused himself. “It ain’t as fancy as I would’ve liked but -”

“It’s perfect!” Freddie insisted. She used both of her hands to take hold of one of his, drawing his eyes to hers. “I’m getting married with that ring. It’s more special to me than any other ring you could buy today.”

Rosie smiled and kissed her temple. In turn, she squeezed his hand.

“Do you have your ring with you, Rosie?” Alma interrupted them.

“Yes, ma’am,” Rosie confirmed. He’d noticed it sitting beside the box housing Freddie’s engagement ring right before he’d formally proposed. It was likely, he thought, that Croz had just emptied the entire contents of his footlocker, save for the books and letters, into his bag in his haste to pack.

“Alright,” Alma conceded. “Fine. But you still need to go and get the marriage licence. So chop chop! You won’t be the only couple in Oxford looking to get married today!”

Heeding this warning, Rosie dressed and left with Felix to get the marriage licence. At the very least, he would be wearing the dress uniform Croz had packed for him, so he didn’t need to buy a suit.

All the while, Alma stayed home with Freddie, helping her get ready. She dug out her wedding dress from 1918 and only had to pin it in a little bit, and worked on styling Freddie’s hair in luscious waves before pinning her veil in the back. She helped Freddie with her makeup, then buckled her shoes for her and helped her to her feet. 

Alma took a few steps back from Freddie until she was standing in the doorway to her bedroom and had to press a hand against her lips. “Oh, Wils,” she said, a small sob escaping through her fingers. 

Freddie smiled. “How do I look?”

“My little girl is a bride,” Alma said, shaking her head and laughing even as she let out little sobs. “You look so unbelievably beautiful. You wear that dress so much better than I ever did.”

Freddie scoffed at this. “I have seen your wedding pictures, mother, and you are a shocking liar.”

Alma laughed. “Oh, my darling girl. I can’t believe you’re getting married.”

“I know,” Freddie said, accepting the hug Alma pulled her into. “This time yesterday I thought my life was over. Now I’m about to marry a man I love more than breathing.”

“After Daniel,” Alma started, and faltered to clear her throat. “After Daniel, and then after Rosie went down, I didn’t think I’d ever get to see you get married.” 

“I know,” Freddie whispered, fighting to hold back the tears in her eyes. “Me neither.” She smiled as she pulled out of the hug. “Are you happy?” she asked quietly, fiddling with the engagement ring on her finger.

“I’m overjoyed,” Alma confirmed, laughing as she took both of Freddie’s hands and squeezed them. “I really, really couldn’t be happier.”

“Me neither,” Freddie said, laughing too, not because she was amused but because she was happy.

Rosie had thought to buy flowers for Freddie to use as a bouquet, but when he returned with Felix from securing the marriage licence Alma wouldn’t let him see Freddie to give them to her. While the ceremony would be small and not entirely orthodox, Alma wanted to maintain some semblance of tradition. So, in her haste to keep Freddie and Rosie apart, she quickly finished getting ready, changing her dress and perfecting her hair and makeup, before bundling Freddie into the car with her to drive the two of them to one of the many churches in the city of Oxford, St Michael at the North Gate, which was where Alma and Felix had gotten married twenty-seven years ago.

Alma parked the car with ease - not many people could afford to buy petrol anymore, especially with the rationing - and hurried Freddie into the church with the marriage licence in hand. Thankfully, no one had beat them to the mark, and only a small selection of people were in there, none of them getting married.

“We’d like to host a wedding here today,” Alma declared with authority, marching the two of them down the aisle. She launched into a hasty retelling of the story - how Freddie had fallen in love with an RAF pilot when she was a teenager and how he’d been shot down and killed, and how she’d found love again with an American bomber pilot and how he’d been shot down, too. How they’d thought he was dead for almost three weeks before he came to the house yesterday and this morning asked Freddie to marry him.

The clergy, touched by the story, accepted the marriage licence and agreed to conduct the wedding. Freddie would apologise to Rosie later about their getting married in a Christian church but there was no real alternative if they wanted to do this today.

Freddie and Alma waited in a back room for Rosie and Felix to arrive. Freddie fiddled impatiently with her bouquet until a man from the clergy burst in and asked, half out of breath, “Has anyone shown you the sheela na gig yet?”

Freddie blinked at him, uncomprehending. “Sorry?”

“The sheela na gig,” the clergyman repeated. “Has anyone shown it to you?”

Alma smiled knowingly. “No, not yet.”

“Come,” the clergyman beckoned, offering his hand to help Freddie stand. “Your mother will stay here. Don’t worry, your groom is safely tucked away in another room.”

Rosie was here. Freddie’s heart leaped with anticipation.

The clergyman led Freddie through the church to the tower, then instructed her to look up towards the belfry windows on its west side. Up there was a stone shaped like a woman with her legs spread. “That’s the sheela,” the clergyman said.

“Right,” Freddie replied, eyebrows furrowed.

“It’s tradition,” the clergyman went on, “to show brides the sheela on their wedding day. At this church, anyway. Elsewhere sheelas warn against lust or protect against evil spirits. This one brings good luck in marriage and fertility.”

Freddie smiled as she turned back to the stone. “So my mum would have been shown her on her wedding day, too.”

“If she got married here then yes,” the clergyman confirmed.

Freddie gazed up at the stone carving and laughed softly to herself. “Am I supposed to say anything? Greet her or wave or… anything?”

“You can if you’d like.”

Freddie smiled up at the sheela, considered her for a few moments, and then blew her a kiss. “Thank you for blessing my marriage,” she called up to her. “Please let us be as happy as my parents are.”

Beside her, the clergyman smiled. “You know,” he said, “you’re the first bride I’ve ever shown the sheela who’s thanked her.”

Freddie shared his smile and shrugged. “She does important work,” she replied. “I’d like her to know her brides are grateful.”

The clergyman led Freddie back to the sideroom to exchange a few last words with her mother before she met her father out the front, where he was already waiting to walk her down the aisle. Rosie, the man said, was already waiting for her at the altar.

“How’d you like the sheela?” Alma asked as the clergyman closed the door behind him, giving them their privacy.

Freddie grinned. “I liked her very much.”

“Me too,” Alma agreed. “It’s a nice tradition, unique to this church.”

“I’m glad to share it with you.”

Alma smiled widely. “Me too, Wils.”

“It feels silly to say,” Freddie said next, fiddling with her flowers, “but I feel kind of jittery. I can’t wait to marry him but I also can’t quite believe that this is my wedding day. I’ve been dreaming about it since I was a little girl.”

Alma was grinning at her. “Well, lucky for you, Wils, if anything goes wrong you’ve got another one to look forward to. Not many brides get to say that.”

Freddie laughed. “Right,” she agreed. “A proper wedding.”

“A proper wedding,” Alma confirmed. “With friends and family.”

“And dogs,” Freddie added.

“And dogs, yes.” Alma rolled her eyes playfully. “Just enjoy this one. There will be so much for you to focus on worrying about at the next one, with all those guests and a dress of your own and a party to host afterwards. Let this one just be fun. Just about you and Rosie and how much you love each other.”

“About how lucky we are,” Freddie added, “to be back together again.” She shook her head, feeling herself getting teary from happiness. “I’m so, so lucky he’s still here.”

“You deserve it, Wils,” Alma said softly, pulling her into a hug. “You deserve the simple pleasure of marrying the man you love. So enjoy it. No need for nerves. You’ll have plenty when everyone you know is watching. This one is just about you and Rosie and your love.”

“Me and Rosie and our love,” Freddie confirmed with a nod, pulling back from the hug. She shook her head with a wide, excited smile. “I really just can’t wait to be his wife.”

Alma smiled knowingly. Freddie supposed she knew the feeling.

A knock at the door had both of their heads turning towards it. “Miss Leroy?” called the clergyman through the old wood.

“Yes?” Freddie called back.

“Are you ready for me to take you to your father?”

I’m ready for you to take me to my husband, Freddie thought.

“Yes,” was what she said. “Yes, I’m ready.”

[lorillee]

anyways so i finished the first four chapters of yakuza 0 last night/early this morning if youre picky. initial thoughts (this will not be organized in any sort of way)

gameplay is very fun its honestly impressive how much love was poured into this game. like all the minigames alone are crazy but also just like the little details like how you can bump into the background characters on the street and theyll like complain lol

i also really appreciate the fight difficulty as somebody who 1) does not play video games and 2) is working with a laptop and a touchpad with no buttons LOL its enough to be challenging without being like rage quit levels of frustrating

personally im still in camp "nishikiyama killed that guy" on top of pre-existing reasons of "dont recall seeing this guy on my twitter for you page" and "it would be a really dramatic reveal" if we've already got that majima's current plotline's basis is that he threw his sworn brother under the bus against his will/outside of his control then it would parallel/contrast pretty well with kiryu getting thrown under the bus by his sworn brother in currently unknown circumstances. im like at least 70% confident in this being the case but like puh LEASEEEEE no spoilers or hints

entirely unrelated but i made my oatmeal with not enough water and now i lowkey dont want to eat the rest. but we suffer through it

frankly i dont trust the real estate guy whos name escapes me at the moment at all and i think its kind of insane that kiryu does Like ok so he knows a bunch of stuff and has the pocketwatch...... But we've already established that this guy's network is like unparalleled so knowing a bunch of stuff really isnt proof he's besties with your dad and the pocketwatch could be stolen. but to be fair its not like kiryu's particularly swimming in options anyways

majima's entire situation is insanely funny They put that man in customer service.

but seriously im actually incredibly interested to see where this is going im kind of crazy about (what appears to be so far) his insane suicide plan to rejoin the yakuza so that when his sworn brother, under the impression that he bailed on him last minute, breaks/gets out of prison he will be able to find majima and take revenge by killing him and put the man out of his misery. Presumably because this is the only way he can think of to resolve this whole situation. which is of course insane and im crazy about it. But who knows maybe im entirely confused on what the situation is so we shall wait and see

i seriously odnt want to eat this oatmeal anymore its cold now :(

im VERY curious to see where the situation with this girl is going to go because like okay obviously hes not going to kill her. We went through way too much hassle just to kill her now but also like Well he doesnt really have options going for him at the moment. like the fact that she's got a Kill By deadline aside he's got literally no way to hide her since he has no friends, hiding her at his house would be insane, and. wait could you imagine if he employed her at his club. which would be so absolutely bonkers it might honestly work. like the fact that she's blind does bring into account some logistical difficulties if nothing else that its a pretty. Well distinct and recognizable feature of hers. but still

mahjong kicked my ass these tables are brutal

[another-heroine]

The Good Comrades

A/N: A long time ago I've asked @dmagedgoods if I could write about the ~ frenemiehood ~ between Katya and Sal, and it is finally done. Thank you, it will probably happen again lol

All eyes were on him. Salvadore was presenting his plan like a conductor guiding an opera. His cadenced speech explained step by step how the army should approach the enemy camping in the narrow valley. That was a bold plan, but none of the presents have time to say otherwise. 

None, except for one woman. 

“Wait, the first line goes ahead and stands in front of the only gate by themselves, seriously?”

Some people glanced at the red-haired aasimar. It was almost impossible not to look at her: tall and with large shoulders like an Ulfen woman, but pale like only a child of Irrisen could be. A wandering dichotomy. 

Salvadore’s lips became a thin line for a moment. “By chance, do you have a better plan, Grushankaya?”

He always pronounced her surname with a tired tone. Like it was too laborious for him to care about an outlander ally. But she didn’t mind and stated, “It must have. Otherwise, we are sending them to a certain death.”

She looked around, seeking support among the crowd. A few agreed with her, shyly. Salvadore sighed and explained, “All of us  — at least, many of us — are soldiers here. Everybody knows the risks and the weight of the Crusades’ burden.”

The druid bit her tongue. Blind loyalty is folly. How could the Commander trust that army division on him? Like it was not enough bringing the Hellknights closer by.

“And as I have just said, we have to bait the demons, bringing them away from their hideout,” Salvadore recalled. “It's our only chance, and if everybody follows the plan, our losses will be low. Did I make myself clear?”

The majority agreed with him. Among the chattering, Ekaterina stared blankly at where he was sitting. Salvadore could feel the glowing irises over him, but pretended she wasn’t there. It was pointless to keep discussing. Time was their true enemy.

In the end, the druid gave a sharp exhale and left the tent. Absalom's people were definitely more stubborn than hers.

•••

It was difficult to tell day from night in those wastelands. The dark skies and constant howling coming from the horizon surrounded the crusaders all the time. Ekaterina would only know by the contagious yawning around her, and the shifting changes in the camp.

She wished to be asleep as well, after all they would march in the next day, but the woman was still feeling unsettling. Her body refused to relax under the blankets.

“You are doing that.”

“Doing what?” Katya frowned and looked at Count Arendae at the other side of the tent. He had a stupid grin on his face, and a hand holding his chin, pensive. 

“That thing when you are upset.”

She flustered slightly. He meant her halo flickering. Ekaterina turned her gaze and shrugged. “It's nothing.”

“Oh please, I can be your trusting confidant!” He turned his body to her direction, sitting on his expensive mattress. “I know that Salvadore and you are often stepping on each other's feet. To be honest, even a blind person can see it. Like our friend Storyteller,” Daeran chuckled.

He was an ass. Both of them.

The woman side eyed him and mocked, “Of course not. Talking to him is always a delight, how could you think of it?”

Nenio appeared abruptly, looking at the druid upside down. “But you don't look delighted.”

Ekaterina sighed. “Because I'm n— Uh, nevermind.”

Daeran was amused. “Who could tell that you would have hard feelings for someone.”

“You don't know me, Count.” She turned her back to him, and noticed the curious stare of Nenio still at her. “Can you please let me sl—”

Someone rang the camp alarm.

•••

He should be the best. No, he had to be the best. Salvadore couldn’t accept failure in either way, because both his reputation and the Commander's were at risk.

As the first line was about to arrive at the demons' main gate, the archers should be in their positions and start shooting when the first horned head popped up. But if any movements got delayed, it would be a problem. Sal had calculated that a thousand times, and there wasn't a way out. He could only pray for the gods of the Crusades to watch for them.

He wasn’t coping with the idea of the losses at all, despite his self confidence demeanor. It was a mask that he learned to wear a long time ago, when he had barely consciousness of… how the things were beyond the walls of the Arrigo Manor. And he gave up explaining himself for a long time as well. It was pointless.

Salvadore leaned the head on one of his hands and shut his eyes for a moment. He could still recall the glances that were accompanying him earlier. Even the judgemental ones.

Ekaterina was a good comrade-in-arms. She was useful and had exquisite skills, for killing or healing. But sometimes she sounded like she didn’t realize yet they were at a war.

And although Sal had the gift of speaking, he didn’t know how to address any kind of honest compliment without sounding sarcastic or worse.

A storm raged on outside, with bells tolling and yelling. Salvadore got up immediately and took a look. It was at the right moment when a huge rock fell from above, some feet ahead, and smashed a poor recruit, splitting his bones and guts everywhere.

They were being attacked by gargoyles.

The general huffed and drawed his rapier, giving orders around. “The catapults!”

The artillery division rushed up. The creatures kept tossing stones over them, destroying everything that they could. When some of them dived into the camp, the infantry struck back, and some soldiers were caught, being trapped among the iron claws, only to be released from the sky helplessly like ragdolls.

Sal spotted one of those moments, and managed to save one his subordinates though, slashing the base of the demon's wing, making it shriek and releasing the soldier. The nearby crusaders seized the moment to destroy the gargoyle, while the general helped the stunned one to stand up.

“Thank you, general!” The lad's voice cracked.

“Keep moving, boy!” Salvadore tapped his shoulder.

The catapults were fired up with flammable ammunition. The counterattack disturbed the gargoyles' aerial formation, spreading them. That action would oblige them to land, and it didn’t take much time.

Salvadore maneuvered the troops to gather at the central point of the camp. If everybody was close to each other, the creatures would have almost no chances to catch someone by surprise.

But it was unforeseen again.

“Help me!” a crusader cried under a pile of scrumbles. 

“Please! Someone!”

Salvadore stopped. Whoever was stuck, he was found by Ember first. Soot was flying in circles, agitated, while the girl tried unsuccessfully to get rid of the crumbles over the buried one.

The general spotted a shadow growing up over the girl, and Soot's cawing became louder.

“Leave her, you filth!” He yelled and darted to Ember.

Everything happened in a blink of an eye: the shadow approaching, Salvadore’s bravado, Ember looking upon and freezing, Soot flying against the gargoyle… and a mighty ox appearing from nowhere, headbutting the creature's flank and dragging it feet away.

“Katya!” the girl shouted.

Ox and gargoyle tripped on each other and rolled on the ground. The stone demon stood up first and shrieked. The druid came back to her true form, feeling dizzy. She felt like she was underwater, with the muffled sounds around her.

The gargoyle reached her with its iron fists. Ekaterina was tossed against the remains of a tent. Her halo flickered, and she gasped with the pain. The aasimar tried to get up, but her body was too heavy to obey her.

She waited for the last blow, but it didn’t come. Actually, something distracted the creature and it turned its back to her. Soot landed by her side, and soon Ember arrived with watering eyes.

“Katya! Are you ok? Let me help you!”

She was exhausted. That attack caught many of them with low guard. But with the healing powers of the young witch, her reason and strength came back.

In the camp, they could hear cheering and celebration. The battle were won.

“Do you need help?”

Salvadore approached, observing her. Katya leaned her upper body on her elbows and nodded. The general took her hand and helped her. She noticed the gargoyle's body behind him. He slashed that demon enough to sculpter another shape. Sosiel would be surprised.

Salvadore sheath his weapon and stepped away, with nonchalanty air. They were alive and that was what mattered. No need to say thank you or…

“Arrigo.”

He glanced at the woman. She was hugging Ember from behind, resting her chin over the girl's head.

“Thank you.”

For a moment, his expression softened, and Sal nodded silently.

[retphienix]

Many unpictured things as well, but doing all the construction terminal base stuff has some fun moments here and there.

Mech boy is a criminal who had his family killed which wasn't built up for like, emotional payoff, but was interesting to read especially in the following reveal that he washes his memory clean with nanites in order to either A: Better serve you or B: Live with himself after what his actions caused to his loved ones.

Even drops a nice bomb of "My old self dies here and now with my family, when we next meet I will be someone entirely different."

All in all his story has some nicely written pieces; In isolation it's pleasantly melancholic- plays with some sci fi stuff in a fun way, and even ends ambiguously in an interesting way where there are implications that part of him remembers (he is caught staring at old family photos) while still implying that his new life is downing nanites to prevent those memories from resurfacing and commiting petty crimes with us for units.

As a whole it's as I said, not really built up for a grand payoff- but it's a small side quest in the tutorial section of the game so like, that's okay?

I much prefer reading/playing stories that build up and pay off, but this is a small side quest that introduces cars so like, the fact this bit of interesting prose is here is in itself a net gain even if it didn't really get the chance to kick me in the gut with its heavy themes since it's effectively "Random alien I just met is a little rude and then in the same scene we find out his family is dead and he 'drinks' to forget".

I admittedly already forget some of farm boys, but I do remember he felt alienated from his people for his interest in creating life vs profits- he wasn't happy with being asked to kill animals if I recall (I might not)- he was told to return to the Gek and freaked out saying the leader was "Not who he appears to be" and maybe "not even a Gek" and claiming he was poisoned (intense paranoia) but then he just. Doesn't go back, and that's the payoff.

Another moment where some nuggets of interesting (or even present) writing is there and then because they wanted me to have an NPC to hang around my home he just goes "Well that's done, I'm hanging out here now."

I do rather like his slightly solemn mood about it though. He says he's staying and has nowhere to go, and nodding to him about this has him quietly smile and nod back, like a quiet acceptance/support being put his way.

Gun lad gets riled up for "one last murder job", his age kicks in pretty badly, and then he comes to terms with life in a way that grants him new perspective- namely he says he'll stop focusing on the dead (I forget the word he used- worshiping? fighting for?) and start focusing on the living.

I can't recall if he's the one that revealed more of his species lore to me, or if it was someone else, so I won't attribute it directly here and instead the parts of his story that were about him pretty much just said "I'm old now. Being close to dying is making me appreciate life more." in so many words.

Bot boy got broken off from the convergence hive mind and is now stuck in an infinite loop of recognizing this fact and freaking out about the loneliness this causes and asking to be reconnected.

His story structure is fun for me because it's a horrifying time loop involving AI- and his story had fun touching on the greater narrative more than most of the camp buds because both the convergence and Atlas talk about our significance which was fun.

And the most but also in many ways least interesting is the main construction lad because he kinda just doesn't have a story- he just becomes more and more cryptic and his mood shifts lower and lower as you progress until he's basically (and I'm assuming) spells out what the story of this game is in a petty voice like some spoiler gremlin on an old gamefaq thread lol

He starts out all nice and excited to help us- claiming they have helped us countless times and must do so again!

And I initially read that as a funny play on manipulation tactics some space cult might do- but no- he's for real.

As his dialogue changes he basically just starts saying outright "You're going to reset everything. Fuck you." so now I'm lead to believe getting to the center of the universe has us meet Atlas (again, because I've met once after these screenshots) and reset everything to start somewhere else in the universe.

It's weird to me just how heavy handed his dialogue gets when this is like, tutorial land.

I know I'm super deep in hour wise, but this is the "How a base works" quest and he's like "You're going to get to the end of the game and it's going to be like this." which is a bit much when most other hints towards the end are much more vague and cryptic and less blatant lol

Maybe I'm wrong though, hell if I know, I'll get there.

The writing in no man's sky is more often than not a bit heavy handed but since the entire game's mythos relishes in that tone, it works enough.

It's sometimes hard to take too seriously since 99% of the game is survival game collecting and building and then they drop like

"Cycles continue ad infinitum, death and pain become all you know as your flesh becomes entwined with the sting of cutting glass; Your friend was never alive, but are any of us? You ponder this question, attempting to convince yourself that surely that isn't so, but you know it to be true."

because you collected 150 chromatic metal and turned it in to try and save your traveller buddy.

The tone of the writing feels pretty consistent in the quests/big NPC talks, but it's alongside 9 billion randomly generated NPCs who all say "I'm gonna trade today." "Fight those sentinels" "I've been studying something you couldn't possibly understand." so it's hit or miss for when those nicely written lines actually get to carry their intended gravitas or if they come off a bit harsh or serious for a quest that had me open a door and hold E on a terminal.

And as implied above, sometimes entire mini-arcs are written... but attached to parts of the game where they aren't allowed to shine like at all.

None of these individual narratives for the camp crew are explored enough or emphasized enough to feel significant or impactful- they mostly just bring up well written 'ideas' that feel like drafts of what could be impactful stuff- and they all feel very.... "Mash through the text to get my reward"-able.

But~

I do like that they are there. Better than not, and I do like aspects here and there.

Still think this guy is too heavy handed in just outright saying "All the weird hints you keep seeing seep into the narrative on your travels- yeah here's the exact thing. Just gonna say it. Anyways welcome to No Man's Sky- congrats on beating the base tutorial."

I wonder if I'm wrong and all this INTENSE AND BOLD LETTERED foreshadowing is misdirection/misinterpretation by either me or the characters in the narrative.

I'm pretty sure when you get to the center you get chucked back out to do it all over again, but until now with this guy I hadn't too much of a guess on the story significance of the action- now I'm left to assume I'm factory resetting a simulation (another name dropped in some text), so I'll go forward with that assumption until I reach the core.

[allaboardthevespa]

If I Lay Here...

SURPRISE EVERYONE I WROTE A DISVENTURE CAMP FICLET!

Anyway...I had a pretty rough day. And to help take my mind off it, I decided to write myself a little comforting Ellabby fluff because they rule my brain right now and I think they need a little more content.

I HC that Gabby tends to suffer from nightmares pretty often, and tbh I've had quite a lot of nightmares lately myself...should I be concerned about that? Idk man. But whatever. So here's a little hurt-comfort ficlet where Ellie comforts Gabby after one of her nightmares post-DC.

Remained pretty ambiguous about the setting because well I have like no ideas lol and I'm bad with describing settings anyway lmao

Also finding a good song for this (songs always help a lot when I write) was tough but I definitely picture Chasing Cars as an Ellabby anthem. Plus I also HC that Ellie is an amazing singer and she sings to Gabby regularly.

But this preamble is getting lengthy, so...here we go!

--

For a moment, Ellie flinched a little as the sound got her attention. She was a light sleeper, and it didn’t take much to rouse her from her slumbers.

As Ellie got up, wondering what the sound was, she looked around the room…and her eyes fell upon her brown-haired girlfriend, sleeping not-so-soundly next to her. The workaholic felt her heart start to ache as she realized what was happening.

Gabby had mentioned to her in passing before that she was prone to nightmares, but given they had only recently started spending their nights together, it took until now for Ellie to witness this happening in person…and it was a sobering sight indeed.

Whatever was happening in Gabby’s dream was clearly tormenting her. The brunette was tightly clenching her own arms, whimpering in fright and pain as tears bubbled out of her eyes and trickled down her face. She was also clearly thrashing around a little, tossing and turning as if trying in vain to shake the nightmare’s grip off of her.

Well, Ellie wasn’t about to just stand by and let her girlfriend suffer alone…

At once, the Minimum Wage Worker put her hands upon the Polish girl’s shoulders and began softly rubbing them, and quietly, called out to her. “Hey, Gabby?” the American girl spoke, “Are you alright?” Hearing the gentle voice of her freckled girlfriend and feeling her soft touch on her shoulders, Gabby gently opened her eyes. In that moment, her mind groggily took in her surroundings. The bedsheets above her body, the ceiling staring down at her…and her skin bathed in a cold sweat. She could still feel her heart pounding, and her breath still felt hitched.

“Oh, dear,” whimpered the Tree Hugger, “I’m sorry to wake you, darling. I must’ve had one of those stupid nightmares again.” “Hey, don’t worry, honey,” Ellie comforted her nature-loving girlfriend, “You can’t help it. You told me yourself that you deal with nightmares pretty frequently.” “Oh, yeah,” the brunette spoke in realization. She recalled every dreadful moment of that damn nightmare. The harsh words of her father ringing in her head. The cruel insults from Grett echoing in her mind. The murderous look in Jensen’s eyes and the crazed grin on his face as he rose up that knife and-

In that moment, the memories grew too much for Gabby, and she abruptly thrust herself forward and clung to Ellie’s chest tightly, tears streaming down her face anew as her body shivered in fear and heartbreak. Forgetting any questions she wanted to ask, Ellie put one of her arms around her tearful girlfriend’s back, and started gently stroking her hair with her free hand. Even in a moment like this, the redhead still found her partner to be astoundingly beautiful. Her soft hair, her smooth skin, her squeaky voice, her bubbly personality…all she wanted now was to see a smile lighting up her face again.

So, gently, the pale-skinned American girl put one hand upon her lover’s chin, gently stroking it with her thumb. There was a brief pause, and then, Gabby let her eyes open and gazed into the blue eyes of her beloved.

Ellie took a moment to admire the brown eyes of her partner, then, taking a deep breath, she began singing a soft tune to her.

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Forget what we’re told Before we get too old Show me a garden that’s bursting into life

Slowly, the brunette felt her heart stop pounding as Ellie’s voice soothed her mind and soul. The memories of that terrible dream slowly faded from her mind. Wiping some final tears from her eyes with one of her hands, Gabby let her other hand join with one of Ellie’s. Their fingers intertwined as they kept gazing at each other. And, to her own surprise, Gabby found herself singing along with her girlfriend…her one and only soulmate.

All that I am All that I ever was Is here in your perfect eyes, they’re all I can see

I don’t know when Confused about how as well Just know that these things will never change for us at all

Sensing her partner was put at ease at last, Ellie put both of her arms around the brunette and gave her a gentle kiss on her cheek. The moment Ellie pulled back, Gabby, as if to return the favor, gave her a soft kiss on the tip of her nose, and whispered in gratitude, “I love you, Ellie.” Then, the Polish girl returned the embrace Ellie was giving her, and, cuddled up in her arms, fell into a peaceful sleep once more. The workaholic watched in joy, her heart warming as her beloved nature-lover slumbered quietly within her arms. The, she gently pressed her forehead against that of her partner’s, and replied quietly, “I love you too, Gabby.”

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

[sweetmage]

Just thinking about some things regarding Abdirak in the Tav!Alois timeline. If you don't understand who Alois is then you can read this backstory fic for my Tav!Abdirak if you want. This is not really anything of interest, I just felt like rambling lol. Contains spoilers for all acts and end game.

Character death mention

To the best of his knowledge Alois has been dead for some fifteen years. He has carried that grief and isolation with him this whole time, he has never processed that loss but masked it with worship.

And it just so happens that his invitation to to the goblin camp lead their paths to cross. Of course Alois (who has been avoiding him this whole time, not wanting their schemes to endanger him firther) would be surprised, but Abdirak must be shaken to his core by this, especially with how cool and casual they are about the reunion.

I think they'd inquire about his work like old friends catching up, but they wouldn't make much time for him in that moment. I think they'd also proudly display the fresh brand on their hand (both because it was a big step in their mission to secure gain footing in the cult and because they were able to tolerate a serious burn unlike in their shameful past) but refuse to elaborate further, suggesting he meet them at their camp later. Abdirak ends up traveling there with the goblins, catching wind of what Alois had aided in (the fall of the grove) on the way over.

I think he'd be incredibly unsettled. Ironically, I think he would start to question if this was the real Alois, as opposed to in the Tav!Abdirak timeline where he willfully let's himself believe that his Guardian (who took the form of Alois) is actually Alois.

I'm thinking emotions are high as they catch up with each other, but Alois has rebuilt all the walls that their relationship with Abdirak had brought down in the past and they are much more reserved, though still just as gentle with him. They seem to no longer speak of Loviatar as freely, but instead the Absolute which raises some concerns, but they brush it off with whispers that it's for Loviatar's will and that he needn't worry nor convert.

They almost sleep together (mostly undressed, making out, feeling each other up) but then Alois stops themself and tells Abdirak he should get going and that they're leaving in the morning for Moonrise Towers, which Alois seems quite eager for, in spite of the danger.

Abdirak recalls one of the Zhents he'd traded with back at the goblin camp was also headed there and, suspicious of Alois and concerned for their behavior, tags along with her and her group.

Alois ends up saving him in the shadow cursed lands when their paths converge on the way to Moonrise, but they aren't very happy to see him and are quite cold, though it's clear they're partially forcing it. He's given a final warning to seek shelter at Last Light while they proceed to moonrise to conduct their own business, but his bad feeling continues and he knows he can't trust them.

He finds them one last time at a camp where the shadows are thinner and attempts to confront them, but he's armed himself beforehand because he hardly recognizes them (especially next to the squeaky clean, idolized image he's held in his head since their apparent passing).

I am on the fence about it but I've been considering having Alois, who is being snuck up on, strike first without warning and having them have to live and suffer with killing the person they sacrificed everything to save and protect so long ago, and now feeling like they have to double down in their goals (to secure control of the cult and turn them over to Loviatar directly) so that it wasn't for nothing.

Buuuuuuut on the otherhand I like Abdirak so maybe not lol. I might do a second timeline in which he survives and when Alois has burned ever bridge and enthralled every person with a tadpole and has nothing at all to show for it there is still someone out there who will either suffer it with them and help them set it right or cut them down for it.

Hmm...🤔