#then he woke up and we told him about his win streak

[phoenixiancrystallist]

Month 1, day 12

Flick grows in his shininess! :D Also he has an ear now lol

[writingwithciara]

friends -brock boeser-

summary: they were best friends who accidentally slept together

word count: 4.3k

pairing: brock boeser x reader

notes: was listening to ‘friends’ by jordy, emma løv & loote when i came up with an idea w: sexual content (but no smut), domesticity, friends to lovers, angst & fluff

the vancouver canucks were out celebrating after a playoff win & brock was watching his best friend dance with her other friends. she was having fun and had no care in the world.

that was one of the reasons he admired her. she never cared what anyone thought of her. ever.

and it was refreshing to brock. he was someone who cared about his career and almost always felt a little hurt when fans got upset about a play he made during a game.

after about 10 more minutes of dancing, y/n made her way over to the table and took her seat next to brock.

"what are you thinking about, mr boeser?" she tapped the side of his head to get his attention. he shook his head and looked at her.

"just trying to figure out how you're always so upbeat and positive. you never let anything or anyone get to you. you also never take anyone's shit it's a quality i really admire."

"really? you admire me?" she raised an eyebrow and added a smirk. "that's cute, brock."

"that's all you took from what i just said?" brock couldn't help but chuckle. y/n was always making jokes.

"of course not." she smiled. "i wish i could tell you why or how i'm so positive all the time, but i have no idea myself."

"i wish i was more like you sometimes."

"why would you want to be like me? i'm nothing special." she looked up at him. "besides, you're brock freaking boeser. you're already perfect."

that was the last thing either of them remembered before they woke up the next morning.

y/n buried her face deeper into brock's chest before her eyes shot open and she took in the scene in front of her. brock was asleep and as far as she could tell, they were both naked. she gently shook brock awake.

"good morning. uh, when did you get here?"

"i'm assuming sometime last night." y/n grabbed her shirt from the night before and pulled it over her body before climbing out of bed and searching for her pants.

"did we-"

"yeah. we definitely did." y/n avoided looking her best friend in the eye. "how did it happen?"

"well, first of all, when a man and a woman decide that-" brock began with a smartass look on his face.

"i know how sex works, brock. i meant how the hell did i have sex with you? you're the one person i consistently told myself to not get involved with. and of course, i ignored my own warnings and now everything is ruined between us."

"nothing has to change between us."

"are you serious, brock? everything is going to change. it's all going to fall apart and i'm going to lose my best friend. how could i have been so stupid?"

"you're not stupid. we were drunk." brock got dressed. "look. let's just pretend this never happened."

"brock, i saw you naked. i can't pretend it didn't happen. as much as i want to, i can't unsee what i saw."

"well that's what i'm going to do because i can't lose you, y/n. you're my best friend. so what if things get awkward between us. what's new there? we're strong enough to get over other obstacles and we're definitely strong enough to make it out of this alive."

"i hate when you're right." y/n sat on the edge of his bed and looked at him. "so, we pretend it never happened?"

"right. we can do this."

but forgetting something so monumental proved to be way harder than they thought.

the canucks were on an incredible winning streak and were one game away from being the stanley cup champions. and with each win, came a celebration.

and just like with each celebration before, y/n was there. the same events played out but y/n and brock tried to avoid each other. whenever brock looked over at his best friend, all he could picture was the intimate night they shared. as much as he wanted to forget, he just couldn't. they had crossed a barrier that would never return to normal. they were fools to believe they could ignore the tension.

so, after a few hours of celebrating and drinks, y/n found herself dancing with brock. the alcohol they had both consumed was fueling them & they were finally ignoring the 'deal' they made the last time they were within close proximity of each other.

"congrats on the goal tonight, brock. you were amazing."

"thanks." he looked down at his best friend and images of their night came flooding back into his brain. "y/n what are we doing?"

"dancing, silly. what else would we be doing?"

"no. i meant our friendship. what are we doing? we promised ourselves we'd get over the obstacle but we've done nothing but avoid each other."

"brock, can we not do this now?"

"then when, y/n? because this is the first conversation we've had in weeks. and damn it, i miss you." he sighed. "i can't keep doing this."

"brock."

"i'm serious. we need to have an adult conversation."

"fine. let's go somewhere more private." y/n sighed in defeat and followed brock out to his car. when they got in, brock didn't start the car. he didn't want to drink and drive. y/n looked at him. "i'm sorry things got weird. and from what i remember about that night, i was the one who initiated the hookup."

"yeah. you did." brock let out a low chuckle. "look, if you want to be more than friends, i totally get it. i'm irresistible."

"eww. no." y/n smiled. "i don't want to be more than friends. i think what we have now is absolutely perfect."

"you're my favorite person, y/n. i don't want to lose you again." he reached over the console and held her hand. "i don't know what i'd do if you left and never came back."

"brock." y/n sighed and placed her free hand on his cheek. "you don't have to worry about that. i'm right here. i always will be."

"good." brock looked into her eyes and before either of them knew it, their lips and tongues were fighting against each other.

"we really shouldn't be doing this." y/n let out a breathy moan when brock's lips traveled down her neck.

"are you going to stop me?" brock stopped kissing her neck and looked up with a smirk.

"absolutely not." y/n pulled him closer. "uber?"

"yes. absolutely." brock opened the app and quickly ordered a ride. the wait wasn't long and they both couldn't keep their hands off each other while they waited.

in the back of the uber, they continued what had started in brock's car. y/n's lips were quick in finding brock's while his hands held her tightly.

when they got to his place, brock unlocked his door as fast as he could. he couldn't wait another second. he needed her.

the next morning, y/n woke up with a huge headache. events from last night were flashing in and out of her mind but she couldn't piece everything together. she had no idea what had lead to her waking up in brock's bedroom again but she understood the feelings she was suddenly having.

brock's side of the bed was empty so she turned on her side and looked around. there was water and some tylenol on the nightstand, along with a note.

sorry to leave you like this. you looked so peaceful and i didn't want to wake you. but i had to go to practice. as always, make yourself at home. i'll be home around 4 & i think we need to talk. -brock

y/n took the tylenol and sipped on her water. when she got out of bed, she grabbed a pair of brock's sweatpants and her shirt from the night before. she checked the time on her phone and decided that she had just enough time to make some food for brock before he got home. she knew he'd most likely be starving after a long day of practice so she went to his kitchen and began her quest.

around 4:30, the front door opened and brock set his bag down in the front hallway. a wonderful smell filled his nostrils and he followed it all the way to the kitchen. when he saw y/n stirring something at the stove, he couldn't stop the feeling that bubbled up in his chest. he also couldn't pinpoint the exact meaning of it.

"hey. what are you making?" brock smiled as he walked up to her.

"i'm making burgers. not only are they delicious, but it was pretty much the only meal i could make since you don't have a lot of food in your kitchen." y/n turned to face him and smiled. "i hope you don't mind."

"i don't mind at all." brock sat at the counter and watched his best friend.

"how was practice?"

"it was great. quinn fell several times and it was funny every time because each time it happened, it was more dramatic than the time before it."

"poor quinn." y/n shook her head but couldn't help the smile that appeared on her face. "i'm glad you had a good day then."

"the good day was only possible because of you."

"what did i do?"

"everything we did last night." he looked up at her as she placed a burger in front of him.

"brock, i love you and i don't want to mess up what we have. plus, i'm not looking for a relationship. you know that."

"i know. i'm not either." he picked up his food while y/n stood in front of him. "but you can't deny that last night was pretty amazing."

"you're right. it really was."

"maybe there's a way we can retain this friendship while still fooling around."

"you really think that will work?" y/n looked skeptical but even she couldn't deny that it sounded like fun.

"we already love each other & have a strong relationship. we can definitely do this. but if you're not comfortable with it, i'll stop asking about it." he looked back over at her. "there's nobody i trust more than you to do this with."

"i'll feel better if we put a time limit on it. like, maybe we test it for a week. if everything goes well, we can discuss it further."

"okay. sounds like a solid deal." brock held out his hand like it was a business transaction. y/n shook it with a smile.

"should we make a schedule?"

"i think once a day should work. if we're both up for it."

"i agree." y/n and brock finished their food at the same time. when y/n went to grab his dirty plate, he smirked.

"why not start now?"

"certainly falls right into the schedule." y/n took a deep breath and left the room. when brock didn't follow her, she turned around. "are you coming or not?"

"oh." he hopped off his stool and they both quickly made their way to his bedroom. it didn't take long for the clothes to be thrown around the room.

the next morning, y/n woke up before brock. she looked over at him and smiled. he looked incredibly peaceful. but maybe that's how anybody would look if their team was one win away from being stanley cup champions for the first time ever.

she got out of his bed and headed to his kitchen. she wanted to cook his breakfast but there wasn't a whole lot of options in his cupboards. so she went on doordash and ordered them both some breakfast. while she waited, she decided to clean up their dinner dishes from the night before.

"good morning." brock spoke in his morning voice. it startled y/n at first but when she turned around, she couldn't help but smile.

"hey. i hope you're hungry because i ordered some breakfast. it should be here any minute."

"i'm starving. thank you." he placed a kiss to the side of her head and sat down. "are you coming to the game tonight?"

"of course. it's the biggest game of the season, brock. i wouldn't miss it for anything."

"good. because i'm gonna need you there in case we lose."

"you're not going to lose." y/n circled around the island and stood next to where he was sitting. she put her hand on his shoulder and smiled. "you guys have been playing consistently strong these last few weeks and i have so much faith in you. there's no way you can lose this."

"god, you're amazing at pep talks. did you know that?"

"no. i didn't. but i like hearing that i'm good at something other than dancing."

"you're good at a lot of things, y/n. cooking, pep talks, dancing, singing, photography, sports, sex."

"now you're just trying to make me blush." she smirked.

"is it so bad that i want to see my best friend blush?" he lifted her chin and made eye contact with her.

"no. i suppose it's not." y/n bit her lip and closed her eyes. she wanted to enjoy the moment for as long as possible before having to face reality.

luckily for her, the doorbell rang a few seconds later and she went to answer it. she grabbed the food and headed back to the kitchen.

"you got my favorite food." brock smiled and began digging in. "oh, this is amazing. you are a freaking goddess."

"figured you would want your favorite on the biggest day of your career."

"you were right." brock smiled and slowed down.

"everything okay?"

"absolutely. i was just thinking about how i got lucky having you in my life."

"i think i got luckier." y/n smiled and reached for his hand. "you're my best friend and i love you so so much."

"i love you too." brock smiled widely and finished his serving, opting to save the rest for later. "i gotta get ready for practice. but the game starts at 8 so you should get to the arena-"

"an hour before. i know the drill." y/n smiled and put the food containers in the microwave. "alright go get ready to kick some ass in the final game."

a few hours later, y/n was sitting in her designated spot in the arena and was watching the players skate around. brock kept passing by and looking at her with the biggest smile she had ever seen on his face. she also noticed quinn was smiling at his buddy too.

on the ice, as the team did their warm ups, quinn skated up to brock with a smile.

"so, what was that all about?"

"what?"

"every time you skate by y/n's seat, your smile gets bigger and bigger. there's not something going on between you guys is there?"

"of course not. she's my best friend. why do you ask?"

"because i kinda have a thing for her and was planning on asking her out after the game tonight. whether we win or lose."

"oh. why have you never told me that before? i could've put in a good word for you."

he was very clearly lying. there was no way he could see y/n and quinn becoming a thing. he didn't think it wouldn't work at all. and not because he knew quinn was technically her type. no. it was because, no matter how hard he tried to stop it or deny it, he had feelings for his best friend.

"would you do that for me?"

"of course. what are friends for?"

"thanks man." quinn skated away and looked up at y/n with a smile. she waved back at him and focused her attention on brock. whatever he was talking about with quinn made him skate faster and play harder.

by the end of the first period, brock had attempted several shots on the seattle net and only one made it in. he also had an assist on a goal made by quinn. it should've been a good night for him but quinn's words rang through his ears. he wondered if y/n would be happier with quinn than with him.

he didn't let it stop him from playing his best and by the time the 2nd period was over, he had scored 2 more goals. y/n cheered the loudest in the whole arena, at least to brock she did. her cheers were always the only ones he heard when he played. and suddenly, the feelings for her became overwhelming. he needed to do something about their situation before one of them got hurt.

when the final buzzer went off, the score was 5-3. meaning vancouver won the stanley cup. quinn, conor and brock were being celebrated by the team and as they made their way down the tunnel, quinn stopped and turned towards brock.

"hey, listen. i have to apologize for what i said earlier."

"what do you mean?" he was confused.

"i meant when i said i had a thing for y/n. i really don't. i was just saying that to get a reaction from you. and i clearly did. you played great tonight and i know it's because i got under your skin. i'm sorry but i know you have deeper feelings for y/n than you let on."

"don't know what you're talking about." brock chuckled and shook his head. he didn't know how quinn figured it out.

"you don't have to lie to me. i know a lot more than anyone thinks." quinn looked at his friend and then over his shoulder. "your girlfriend's waiting for you."

"she's not my girlfriend, quinn."

"not yet, my friend." quinn smirked and greeted y/n kindly before walking into the locker room.

brock stopped in front of y/n and smiled. "hey."

"hey. you were amazing out there tonight, brock." y/n threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly.

"thanks. i tried."

"is there anything you can't do?" y/n looked at him and smiled.

"well i don't think i can handle my jealousy very well." he half chuckled but looked down at y/n.

"what do you mean?"

"um, quinn told me he was planning to ask you out after the game."

"oh."

"what would you say if he actually goes through with it?"

"i would have to say no." y/n looked down at her feet as she let brock go. "he's great but not the guy i see myself spending the rest of my life with. why do you ask?"

"because i was gonna set you up with him." brock chuckled. "but now i know it won't work out. such a shame though. he really liked you."

brock didn't know why he was lying. but he did anyway.

"he did?" y/n shook her head. "now i feel bad. i mean, maybe one date wouldn't hurt. right?"

"y-yeah. you're right." he looked at her. "are you sure you want this?"

"why not? i'm single. he's single. he's a good guy. but it's only one date. let him know that."

"okay. i'll be right back out." brock went into the room and walked to quinn. "okay here's the deal. i told y/n you wanted to ask her out and she agreed to one date."

"okay. but i don't actually have a thing for her. does she know that?"

"no. i told her you really liked her and she felt bad so, yeah. one date. that's all i'm asking for you to do."

"okay. i guess i can do that." quinn looked at brock. "so, when you told her that i really liked her, was that just a cover up for your own feelings?"

"yes, damn it. i don't know how you know about that."

"i know everything." quinn smirked and headed to the shower. brock went back to the hallway to tell y/n the plan.

the following night, y/n met quinn at a restaurant not far from brock's apartment. when he saw her, he had to stop himself from looking at her like she was the object of his affection & not brock's.

"you clean up nice, quinn."

"thanks. so do you." he pulled out her chair for her and went to his own seat. "you know, i honestly didn't think brock was gonna set this up when i asked him to."

"oh really? why's that?"

"i thought he had feelings for you. i was so sure of it, just based on the way he acts around you and without you. but if he did have those feelings, he wouldn't have set this up, right?"

"yeah. right." y/n was confused. if brock had feelings for her, then why would he propose their deal in the first place?

after an hour of eating and conversation, quinn quickly changed the subject.

"can i confess something?" he managed to mutter between bites of his dessert.

"of course." she was interested now. "what's up?"

"i only told brock i was going to ask you out so i could find the truth out."

"what truth?"

"whether or not he had feelings for you. and even though i said earlier tonight that he wouldn't have set this up if he did, i think he did it because he does have feelings for you & was doing this to cover them up. plus, judging by the way he reacted when i brought up asking you on the date, i can safely say that my theory was confirmed. he's into you, y/n."

"that can't be possible. he's my best friend. n-nothing more."

"people say that all the time. but sometimes, it turns into more. and between you guys, the chemistry is electric. and obvious to everyone but you apparently."

"if he has feelings for me, why wouldn't he just tell me?"

"fear of rejection and losing the relationship you two already have. it's a very common fear."

"okay, fair enough. but he knows he can tell me anything and it would never ruin our friendship."

"well, you just used the word 'friendship' so that might be why he didn't tell you."

"i suppose." y/n finished off her drink and looked at quinn. "how do i get him to confess how he feels?"

"i may have an idea. but it may not be a very bright one."

"give it to me." y/n leaned closer to listen to every detail of the plan.

by the time they left the restaurant, y/n and quinn had a solid plan to get brock to finally admit how he felt. she was supposed to go to his place and tell him that the date went great and that they had scheduled another one. she hoped it worked.

when she walked into brock's apartment, where she would be staying the night, brock looked over his shoulder. he paused his show and turned towards her.

"hey. how was the date?"

"oh. it was surprisingly great. he was awesome and did everything a gentleman should do."

"oh. that's great." brock looked down at his lap.

"it was. we have another date scheduled for saturday night."

"wait, really?"

"yeah. we figured since the date went so well, we'd make time for another one."

"oh. well i'm happy for you." brock sighed. "quinn's a good guy and you deserve to be happy."

"i know i do." y/n sat next to brock and looked at him. "do you think quinn and i are good together?"

"honestly, yeah. i don't think there's anyone better for you than quinn."

"i do."

"what?"

"i think there's someone out there better for me than quinn." y/n shook her head, a smile slowly beginning to appear on her face. "it's you."

"what are you talking about?"

"do i seriously have to spell it out for you, boeser?" y/n shook her head again and leaned closer. "you are better for me than anyone else could ever be."

before brock could respond, y/n climbed into his lap and kissed him. he hesitated for only a second before he began kissing her back. his hands went up to her face and she smiled into the kiss. when they finally pulled way from each other, y/n smirked.

"do you get it now?"

"i think so. but just in case, maybe we can try that one more time, just to be sure?"

"i think we can do that." y/n smiled and kissed him again. brock held her hips and laid her on the couch gently. as his lips moved down her neck, he started to hesitate. y/n grabbed his face and moved it to her line of vision. "brock, i love you. this is perfectly okay. don't feel like you're going to break me."

"okay. i wasn't hesitating because i was afraid." he smiled. "it's just now hitting me that you love me too. it doesn't feel real."

"it's the most real thing i've felt in a long, long time."

"me too." brock's smile kept growing wider and wider until it started to hurt. but he knew he was truly happy.

and when y/n's lips found his again, he took his time. he savored every second of their interaction. his hands slipped under her shirt but he didn't move them until y/n nodded.

with her permission, he moved them up and y/n pulled her shirt over her head before reaching for his and doing the same.

unlike all the other times they slept together, this time was different. it meant more to the both of them and they wanted to take their time.

it was real and it was exactly where they were meant to be. wanted to be. needed to be.

[oddyssey77]

Not So Alone - Clarisse

POV Clarisse La Rue

I felt a throbbing pain in the back of my head as my eyes shuddered open. What had happened to me? How did I get here? As I struggled to remember the explanation for my situation, I was interrupted by an Australian accent.

"You're awake!" a boy of about seventeen exclaimed, "I was getting worried." He looked at me with a smile that made my heart quake. I opened my mouth to speak but my lungs were refusing service.

"Don't strain yourself," he said. I looked around, my vision blurred. Was I in a cave? I couldn't be sure.

"You took quite a hit when that stone guy threw you against the tree. I don't know where we are now but we'll find our way back. Just the two of us," He spoke each word like it was a gift.

He had a certain contentment even in this dire situation that I couldn't help but admire. I managed a weak smile and spoke, "Who are you?"

The question caught him by surprise. He looked at me quizzically and seemed to put things together in his head. But before he could respond I passed out again.

The next time I woke up wasn't as peaceful as the last. I was propped up against the wall of the cave and I was still with the boy. He had messy dark hair and a wild look in his eyes. His ears were pointed like an elf's, and his skin was overrun by acne. I felt like I knew this boy. No, I was certain I knew this boy. Sadly, I wasn't going to get a chance to stare at his chocolate eyes and patchy complexion much longer.

His face was smeared with blood and his expression ached with sorrow.

"Clarisse," he said, and I realised that he was talking to me. Was that my name? Clarisse? "Clarisse listen to me!" he hushed. A tear streaked down his face. He placed his hand against my cheek and directed my gaze right into his. 

"Whatever you do, stay right here. No matter what happens to me, you stay right here! You got that?" I nodded weakly, "I love you Clarisse. Gods of Olympus, I love you so much." Even now he managed to keep smiling. I remembered one thing about him in that moment. That I loved him too. I tried to say it but I just choked, still winded.

In one last gesture, he reached out and kissed my forehead gently. After that, all I could see was his back as he retreated from me and headed deep into the tunnels of the cave. I heard the clashing of a sword against scales nearby. A Dracon roared and the Australian boy yelled in response. 

As fire lit up the caves, I tried to get up, to fight. I heard one last shout from the boy.

"For Hermes!" his war cry echoed through the cave system. I was blinded by a burst of light so great that it illuminated the cavern completely. 

The light receded into one last form. The boy in an orange t-shirt and tattered jeans. Except this was more of a spirit than a physical form. An echo of his life, contained into one teenage golden form of light. He smiled at me one last time as he floated through the roof of the cavern, toward the surface and the sky beyond.

~One Day Later~ 

I remembered more by then. The t-shirt I was wearing had the word camp on it and another word that had faded off overtime. The orange t-shirt meant home. That I was sure of. The spear I was holding had some sort of magic to it because whenever I touched the tip, I felt a jolt of energy shudder through me. I also knew there was something special about me. Something powerful. Maybe I was a witch from Harry Potter. Something told me I would make a great Slytherin.

Or I could be a spy working for the government. Which government? I wasn't too sure. What if I am a goddess? That would be cool. I could tell I was getting close. Clarisse: Goddess of electric spears and getting Australians killed. I was sure that was it.

That meant all of the others from my home of orange t-shirts were gods as well. I remembered one specific goddess from my home. She had long blond hair and grey eyes. I think her name was Annabeth, goddess of super smartiness and winning too much of capture the flag. Then I realised that the boy who loved me must be Hermes, god of travellers and messengers seeing as his final words were something about that god.

I identified why I couldn't remember anything. I had been hit on the head. The wound still ached. I wasn't sure how or when but I was pretty sure it was in battle. I had been staying put just like he had told me to for about a day but I had gone out for water after that and found a nice little burned down jungle cavern with a dead stone warrior and a corpse sizzling on burned firewood. 

I had sipped from the stream and found some, not too burnt, mangos from the trees. After that, I went to examine the burnt up body. It was a teenage boy with short fair hair and a scar scrolling through his left eye. I had seen this boy before. I felt like he had been a friend but I wasn't too sure. I hoped that whoever killed him wasn't looking to do the same to me.

I also had found a furry robot that resembled a Minotaur. It had been shot in the back of the head with a golden arrow. The golden arrow represented Apollo. I knew that because the silver ones represented Artemis. I was proud of how much I was remembering. Well done Clarisse, you are a very good goddess.

I looked up at an opening in the ceiling of the cave. It was high up and looked like someone or more had already climbed out by scaling a pillar of vines. I felt blessed that an exit had been left for me by the previous attendants of this cave and gladly began climbing the vines.

CRASH!

I found out the hard way that I was still too weak too climb vines. 

~3 Days Later~

I was insufferably lonely. It had been days of living in the jungle cavern and mangoes weren't enough to sustain me forever. I wished for a lot of things; my memories, a way out, a better food supply, people to help me, but most of all, I wished for the Australian Hermes boy who loved me. 

I curled into a fetal position and sobbed. I could tell that it was not in my nature to show emotion but that didn't matter, nor did I care. After hours of feeling sorry for myself and wallowing in my own tears, something happened. Or more accurately, someone.

"Clarisse." a soft, kind voice exclaimed, "How are you here?"

I looked up in a daze and tried to make out the figure standing before me. She had long, wavy, auburn hair and was wearing a flowing white dress adorned with flowers. Her spectral blue eyes gleamed against the sunlight and her smile had a way of melting all my troubles away.

"Who are you?" I asked, scrambling to my feet.

"My name is Leena, I live here." 

"You live in these dark scary caves by yourself?" Something about my tone seemed to offend her.

"I can handle myself," she assures me, "And I live on this whole island!" she described this place as if it were some paradise and I wasn't about to die of starvation. 

"And I am not by myself. I have many friends here. I just need to find my way back to them."

"Did you get lost?"

"I wish," Leena sighs, "I was taken from my home. I was sent on a mission and now I have to complete one more task before I can go back." Her face droops and her eyes brim with tears.

"Why?" 

"My home has a lot of rules. I think I broke a few of them and this is my punishment."

I began thinking about how familiar she seems. Maybe her home is the same as mine with the orange t-shirts.

"Can I go with you to your home?" I said and her eyes light up.

"That would be a fun idea! You can meet all my friends. Like Michael! You'd love Michael."

"He sounds cool," I say, wondering if I can find out anything else, "How did you know my name when you found me?"

"Because we are friends Clarisse! Did you forget? We were at Camp Half-Blood together."

"Camp Half-Blood?" I say puzzled. 

"Yeah, our home." She points to my t-shirt and smiles. I wonder if she is still referring to the place that sent her away or a different home. I wanted to ask more when I realised that she wasn't focused on me anymore. Her eyes were scanning the cave until they settled on the campfire with the singed body rotting and decomposing inside of it.

EEEEAAAKKK!!! 

"WHAT HAPPENED TO LUKE!" Leena cried

"Luke?" I wondered, glad to know the name of the dead guy.

"He was also our friend," she sighed, "One of our best friends."

"Who was he?" 

"He was a son of Hermes." She replied and my heart begins beating rapidly.

"Hermes? I met him down here." I began thinking of the Australian who I hadn't really stopped thinking about to begin with. Leena looked up with a quizzical expression

"That's not possible. The only gods allowed on this island are Hades and Demeter."

"How are we here then?" That made Leena laugh

"We are not gods Clarisse. We're demigods." A wave of understanding washes over me as I hear the last word. As if it were unlocking memories I had lost. I remembered the cabins, the archery range, the strawberry fields, Thalia's pine. I remembered Chiron and Mr. D. I remember fighting alongside my fellow demigods in two different wars. But the one thing that I still couldn't remember was the other demigods. 

I couldn't think of their faces or their names. Their personalities or powers. It was if those memories were still being held back from my mind. It no longer felt like only the wound was poisoning my mind. It was as if something else, something much stronger, was trying to overtake me.

"Demigods are the mortal children of the gods." Leena explained. She sounded so patient with me. She was so helpful and kind that I wasn't sure how I was friends with her. Something told me my usual friendship circle was a little more aggressive than that.

"I am a daughter of Aphrodite." Leena said, "You are a daughter of Ares."

Ares

That is the god of war. I am a daughter of the god of war. Somehow that didn't surprise me but that didn't mean I liked it. 

"We are going to get home Clarisse." Leena cups her hands around my face and stares at me defiantly. But first, we are going to find who did this and kill them. She looked at my spear with a grin and gestured to her left. The son of Hermes named Luke still lay dead in the campfire. 

"We'll kill them." I say, glad that I am going back to Camp Half-Blood with my new/old friend Leena.

This Chapter is Dedicated to Nina

[morganmaietto]

Here’s an excerpt from my WIP: The Mirror Effect.

This scene will 100% be in the book. I just needed to post something a little wholesome today.

Tw: mentions of drinking blood (one character is a vampire) and swearing.

Noah had ordered pizza for dinner for them, and since Phoebe and Craig were still at work Taelor was openly drinking blood from one of the blood bags Josephine had given her. After they had finished eating they decided to have a game night. Lucille was on a winning streak, much to her older siblings dismay. “HA! In your face Tae!” Lucille celebrated her tenth victory in a row as her little character crossed the finish line right before Taelor’s did. Taelor was still gaping at the screen. “How do you keep doing that?! There’s no way you aren’t cheating!” Lucille scoffed at the accusation. “I’m not cheating you two just suck ass at this game.” “Oh yeah? We’ll see about that. Rematch!” “I’m gonna sit this one out I think.” Noah said putting down his controller. “Aww, don’t be such a sore loser Noah.” Lucille said looking up at him from where she sat on the floor. “I’m not being a sore loser.” “Yeah yeah, sounds like you’re being a sore loser to me.” Taelor teased. Noah just rolled his eyes. Lucille and Taelor battled it out with the racing game again, with Taelor losing again. “Aaaand… I win again.” Taelor growled at Lucille and crossed her arms. “Quit pouting. We can play something else.” “No! Now I have to beat you.” “Come on seriously, aren’t you getting tired of losing?” “Re. Match. Now.” Lucille shrugged and they played again. Lucille won again and Taelor groaned in frustration. “How the fuck do you keep beating me last second?!” Lucille gave her a smug look. “Because I’m better at this game than you.” “There’s no way you aren’t cheating.” “I don’t think she’s cheating Taelor.” Noah said. “Rematch.” “Taelor…” “No! I said rematch!” Lucille looked at Noah. He shrugged. “Fine, just one more game, then let’s play something else.” Lucille said. “I only need one more try.” “You two do realize how late it is, right?” Noah asked, looking at his phone. “Shh! Shut up! Don’t distract me!” Taelor yelled as her and Lucille again started racing. Again Lucille proved to be the victor. “Damn it!” Taelor yelled in frustration. “Okay! How about we watch a movie instead?” Noah suggested. “No!” Taelor said. “But why?” Lucille whined a little. “Because I’m starting to get sick of you two whining. And I’m the oldest so you have to do what I say.” “Of course you’d use that on us. Just because you’re the oldest doesn’t make you the boss of us.” Taelor said. “Yeah, it’s not like mom put you in charge.” “Maybe she didn’t but I could always tell her you’re misbehaving.” He said with a smug smirk. Lucille rolled her eyes. “Fine! Let’s find a boring one.” After a bit of searching, they ended up finding a movie, it was so boring they ended up falling asleep.

Two hours later, Lucille woke up to Taelor practicing the game. “I told you, you two suck at the game.” Lucille smirked when the computer won instead of Taelor. “Shut up!” Taelor snapped back. “For the love of god will you both shut up please.” Noah groaned, now also awake. “So stupid.” Taelor grumbled. “The heck did you just call me?” Noah raised his voice. “Not you, this game!” “Okay damn! It’s obviously way past Tae’s bedtime.” Lucille said. “It is like three in the morning right now.” “We should make a pillow fort.” “It’s way too late Tae.” Noah said. “So? It’s not like you haven’t had to stay up to cram for exams.” She pointed out. “Well, yeah no shit. Do you know how draining that is?” “Guys quit it. Let’s compromise here. Noah can lay on the couch and take a break while you and I make the fort.” “No he has to help, he’s acting like an old man.” “What? No I’m not! I’m just tired.” “See? He just made my point.” Noah glared at her. “Fine. Give me the damn pillows, I make better forts than you two anyways.” At that point Lucille just gave up and let them duke it out. Noah did end up making a decent fort for them all to fit under comfortably.

[the-kittens-of-vol-tron]

HEAR ME OUT!!!! LANCE HATES WHEN PEOPLE TOUCH HIS BACK BC OF THE EXPLOSION PLS PLS PLS

Y'know I've thought about this a lot :0

-----

The thing about being thrown into space on a giant metal blue lion in the middle of a galactic war you had no idea was happening; everyone you know has faced a near-death experience. The team quickly became numb to certain things that would take months to years to process and overcome on earth. 

Every day they were fighting for their lives and the lives of each other; chugging along to make it through each day. 

Lance was aware of this. He knew they had to block certain things from their mind in order to keep pushing through; which is why he hated how much he relived the explosion. 

He didn’t relive it physically over and over again, but his mind made him feel like he was physically reliving it. He kept this issue hidden away. Didn’t tell the team the countless nights he woke up to ringing in his ears, his skin sticky with sweat, a scream dying in his throat. 

He didn’t tell the team the reason the bags under his eyes were beginning to match Shiro's was because every time he closed his eyes the sound echoed in his mind. The burning sensation consumed him and he swore he could still feel the flames lick at him. 

Lance felt as if he was constantly on edge. Parties were no longer entertaining for him. He dreaded every new person that entered the castle, no matter the smile they wore on their face. 

He hated how he saw everyone as a threat, constantly checking behind him to make sure nothing was trying to sneak up behind him. He no longer spent time in the observation deck, wishing that he was home. 

The only comfort he found was inside of Blue or wrapped up in his bed. 

“I tell you what, you paladins of Voltron are just what we need to win this war,” the king of the planet they had just freed slapped his hand (it was more of a penguin fin) on Lance’s back. 

Lance felt his entire body go stiff, his breath getting caught in his throat. The sounds around him began to swim in his mind, nothing was clear anymore. His mouth suddenly went dry, his eyes frantically scanning the area around him and someone laughed in the space around him. 

The pressure was removed off his back and he quickly took a step away, trying not to make his motions seem wobbly. 

“We are just happy to help. I hope we can count on you for our attack against the Galran empire.” Allura's voice slowly rang clear in his mind and he slowly regained the ability to fill his lungs. 

He bolted back to his lion as soon as he was given the cue, letting himself shake in his chair for a moment. Trying to shake the image that was stuck in his mind. You’re okay. We’re okay. The team is safe. I’m safe. You’re okay. We’re- He let his mind repeat these words; trying to convince his mind it was the truth. 

Lance passed that moment off as a one-time deal. Rationalizing that it was a stranger that touched him and if it was someone on the team he would have been okay. 

He told himself that, believing it was the truth until it was proven wrong. 

“Hey, I just wanted to say you did good today Lance,” Shiro walked beside him, placing his human hand on his upper back in a proud older brother moment. 

Lance stumbled forward, twisting himself around to face Shiro. “Thanks,” he quickly turn back down the hallway, heading straight for his room. As soon as the door closed behind him he allowed himself to break. 

He allowed the small sobs to escape his lips, the tears to streak his face, his body to curl into itself where he sat against his door. The heat from the explosion felt lively on his skin. He rationally knew Shiro didn’t burn him with anything but where his hand was placed felt like it was on fire. 

He could feel himself rocking where he sat, trying to tell himself he was okay, he was safe. But this time, his brain didn’t believe him. 

Lance was aware he needed help. He knew he should confine in someone, maybe Coran? But every time he scrounged up the courage to spill his guts to someone the alarms would blare and he would be rushing down to his lion. 

He felt like a walking corpse. The lack of sleep at night was starting to catch up to him. Causing little mistakes throughout his day. He slid into Hunk at training, nearly knocked Pidge’s computer over, he bumped directly into Shiro while they passed each other in the hall. 

He was slipping, he felt like a glass object teetering over the edge of a table. One wrong move and he would be shattered beyond repair. 

He did everything he could to keep himself from falling. He started to live by certain rules. 

1) No one, absolutely no one was allowed to touch his back in any capacity. No more hugs from Hunk, no more pats on the back, no contact at all. 

2) Always watch your back. Don’t let anyone or anything sneak up on you or a team member. 

3) Never let anyone behind you. Stand against the wall. Always bring up the end of the line. 

4) Be aware of your surroundings.

He memorized these rules, repeating them under his breath in the shower, while he was getting dressed, as he was crawling into bed. They were security in a sense. As long as he followed them, nothing bad would happen to him. 

He leaned against one of the walls in the training room, his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. His teammate did similar things. Pidge laying in the center of the room, Keith chugging a bottle of water, Hunk slumped down by the door, Shiro wiping the sweat off his forehead with a towel.

To say Lance was exhausted was an understatement. He couldn't even remember the last time he properly slept.

Which is was caused him to forget rule #4.

"I think we're getting better at working together." Keith leaned against the wall by Lance, his eyes gazing over the training area.

Lance told himself to breathe, giving a small nod at the other boy.

Keith looked at him, "I'm really happy we put that rivalry behind us." Keith placed his hand on Lance's upper right back shoulder blade.

It was a friendly gesture, Lance knew that. There was no anger or hatred behind the action. Keith was simply being friendly. Being a good teammate.

Unfortunately, Lance's brain wasn't wired to see the situation like that anymore.

His body reacted before his rational mind could catch up. His left hand reached across his chest, grabbing Keith's wrist from where his hand was placed on his body. He yanked on it as soon as he had a strong enough grip and Keith went tumbling forward; slightly rolling over Lance's shoulder.

By the time Lance realized his fellow red paladin was on the ground the team was already making their way toward the two at their own paces.

He backed himself against the wall, his brain running a mile a minute. His breathing was labored and his vision began to swim; he was in pure panic mode.

Keith was being helped up by Shiro who was looking at Lance with confusion but preparedness; Lance didn't doubt that he would tackle him if he tried to attack another team member.

"Lance, just take it easy." Hunk held his hands out in front of him, almost as if he was trying to calm a wild animal. Maybe that's what Lance looked like right now.

Others were talking, their voices melted together and Lance placed his hands over his ears, begging the sounds to stop. He could feel his head shaking as he tried to block the noise.

He looked at his team, and they all looked back with wide eyes. "I'm sorry," he looked towards the closet exit to him, "I need...I have to go." He wasn't sure how he managed to run out of the room without someone grabbing him but he thanked the universe for being able to escape.

He began snapping his armor off in the process, leaving it scattered in his room before stumbling into his bathroom. He borderline ripped his undershirt off his body, trying to stop the burn that was steadily consuming his skin.

He fumbled with the water in the shower, stepping into the freezing temperature, trying to ease the pain.

He could hear pounding on his door and his fingers tangled in his hair. You're okay, you're okay. Just breath. You're okay-

He wasn't sure how long he sat in the freezing water, he wasn't sure when the pounding stopped. When the burning feeling stopped and his body went numb he reached up and turned off the water; he wasn't sure when he slumped to the ground.

He sat in the shower a while longer, letting his body shake from the temperature. He knew he needed to warm up, he needed to pull his pants off his body and changed into something dry. Why was moving so hard right now?

Maybe he dozed off, he had to of since he jolted awake to his bedroom door opening. He glanced at his bathroom door, it was locked, but it wasn't hard to overrule the system.

"Go away, I don't want to talk yet." He hated how his voice wavered on his words, he was tired. So so tired.

"Lance? We don't have to talk, but may I come in?"

Lance closed his eyes, Coran always had a sense of comfort surrounding him. Lance always saw him as an uncle figure.

"Yeah."

The door slid open a couple of moments later, Coran giving him a sad smile. "Did you take a shower?"

Lance hugged his knees, still shivering, "something like that."

Coran nodded and left the room, returning quickly with his pajamas and a towel. "Get changed, I'll go get you some Pressed Cider!" He placed the clothing on the counter by the sink and disappeared.

Lance allowed his body to fall into autopilot and he quickly got changed, leaving his wet clothes in the bottom of the shower and he sat on his bed. His breathing still felt labored in a way, but his bed was safe. Nothing could hurt him here.

Coran reappeared later, two mugs in his hands and a blanket folded up under his arm. He handed the blue mug to his paladin and placed his black mug on the bedside dresser.

He unfolded the blanket and slowly wrapped his around Lance, taking a seat a couple of inches away from him.

"The team said you had a moment."

Lance took a small sip of his drink, focusing on the spice taste that covered his tongue. The temperature was slightly on the hot side, a great improvement from Coran's initial attempts of sharing this drink. Alteans used to put fire rocks in their drinks.

"Keith is okay if you were concerned about him."

Lance nodded.

"But it's nice to know your training is paying off number 3."

Lance gave him an obligatory smile and cast his eyes down at his cup.

"I'm all ears if you need to get something off your chest my boy."

Lance stared down into the dark orange liquid, Coran was with him that day. Maybe he had his own suffering from it. "Does that day ever bother you? The explosion on Arus."

Coran was quiet for a moment, something out of his character, but he eventually released a small sigh. "Yes...sometimes I feel as though I can't shake it. Does it haunt you?"

Lance gave a small nod, taking another sip of his drink. "I relive it every day. I know I'm okay but I sometimes feel like my skin is still being burned."

"Shiro said Keith touched your shoulder and that's when you...had your moment."

Lance appreciated his attempt to lessen the realistic damaged he actually caused to his team. "I didn't mean to."

"I didn't think you did. You're not someone who would attack your team member unless absolutely necessary."

"I don't like people touching my back. I have a list of rules." Coran gave him a questioning look and Lance quickly repeated his rules. "It's the only way I could keep myself going."

"Why didn't you tell one of us?" Coran didn't sound disappointed, but his voice was laced with sadness.

"I didn't want to burden anyone. You lost your family, your whole planet. Shiro was a prisoner for a year, Keith lost his parents, Pidge lost her family...I just had one thing happen to me."

"Lance," Coran placed a comforting hand on his knee, "don't let your mind convince you just because someone has it worst you can't struggle. That was a traumatizing day, sometimes when you run late for breakfast or back to the castle I worry you're gone. I feel as though the team feels the same."

Lance blinked away the tears that were forming in his eyes.

"The team isn't mad at you."

"Keith should be."

Coran shook his head, "he's not. They're just concerned."

"Oh."

"Tell you what. Let's finish our drinks and then we can talk to the team together. See what we can do to support you through this."

Lance dropped his head, "okay."

-----

Hmmmm love me some angst and a supportive team

Thank you!

I hope you like it <33

[naranciasimp]

hey! could i request a prosciutto x female reader scenario where she comes back from a mission clearly hurt and panicked, and is afraid that her crush, prosciutto, is going to scold her so she tries to hide it and fake being well (while not being very good at it)

lots of fluff in the end pros takes care of her.. feel freed to add some things if you want to

I Could Never Be Mad At You

AN: This is probably the longest fanfic I have ever written. This ended up being more of a La Squadra x Reader than just Prosciutto but I hope you like it! Under the cut for length. 

You opened the door to La Squadra’s hidden base as quietly as you could. You poked your head around the door to make sure no one was there. Luckily it seemed as though everyone was doing their own thing.

You stumbled through the door while holding your side. You do not know how this happened. You were always so good on missions. You took down enemies left and right. Even Risotto was impressed by your skill.

Sadly, today was the day your winning streak came to an end. You didn’t kill your target, he got away. You felt guilty and nervous. This was going to set the whole team back a pay check, Risotto would have to go out of his way to clean up the mess you made and the other members would probably hate you for at least a month. The one thing you were most scared about was Prosciutto scolding you. You had a feeling he was going to extremely be disappointed and that was the last thing you wanted.

The pain you felt was insane. Everything hurt and you felt like you were on the verge of passing out. You just needed to make it to your room. You kept a secret med kit in there for situations like this.

After stumbling around you finally made it to the door of your room. You reached out to open it when someone appeared behind you. It was Pesci.

“Oh Y/N! You’re back. I didn’t even hear you come in,” he said in a happy tone. From where he was standing he couldn’t see the wounds on your body.

You hummed in response hoping that would be enough for him to leave you alone. You always talked to Pesci. Out of all of La Squadra you were by far the nicest to the boy.

Pesci could tell something was wrong when you didn’t face him with a bright smile like you normally do. “Y/N? Are you ok?”

The room began to go black. You could feel yourself losing consciousness. Before you could respond you felt your head fall back with the rest of your body.

Pesci quickly caught you before you hit the ground. He immediately saw the huge amount of blood covering your stomach. Your arms and legs were covered in gashes. Your head was bleeding and you had a black eye.

Pesci screamed at the sight of your unconscious, bloody, body in his hands. Your eyes fluttered open at the sound.

“Don’t…. tell….. Prosci-” Those were your last words before you passed out again. Of course that didn’t matter now. Pesci screamed and when something happened to him Prosciutto was always the first to show up.

Prosciutto ran to you both. “What happened,” he yelled. He saw Pesci holding what looked to be a girls body.

Pesci face was pale and it looked the most frightened Prosciutto had seen. “Fratello! Help!” Pesci moved so his brother could see what happened.

Prosciutto felt his heart stop. He was a man who stayed calm under pressure, the man who always had a plan, one of the best gang members Passione had ever seen. In this type of situation he would just yell at whoever got hurt to step up their game, patch up their wounds and hand them over to Melone so he could handle the rest. He would later come in to apologize for yelling, tell them he was proud of them and all of that other good stuff.

Now was different. Now it was you. His one weakness. The woman who he would do anything for. The one person he cared about the most.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. “Pesci stay with her!” Prosciutto ran off to grab one of the medical kits.

“It’s gonna be okay Y/N just stay with us,” Pesci said. He was trying to be brave but the worry in his voice was clear. Prosciutto showed up again. He opened the door to your room and threw the med kit inside.

“Come on Pesci grab her feet, we’re going to put her on her bed.” The two boys easily carried you into your room and gently placed you down.

Prosciutto opened the medical kit and ordered Pesci to go tell Melone what happened. Once the younger boy left Prosciutto began to take off your clothes. He hoped one day he would see you undressed but he did not want it to be like this. Your unconscious body still laid on the bed now in just a bra and underwear.

Now that you were undressed Prosciutto could see all of the wounds you received. The most concerning one was on your stomach. You had been stabbed by something and by the looks of it you opened the wound more by moving.

Prosciutto was not the healer of the team by any means. He knew how to fix simple wounds and he was better at it then others but he didn’t even know where to begin with your wound.

Thankfully Melone was here at base today. He ran to the room with more medical supplies. “Move out of the way,” Melone ordered. Prosciutto did what he asked.

He began to get to work on your wound. Your injury brought a lot more attention to yourself then you would’ve liked. Soon enough the whole entire team was inside the room. There was lots of What happened? Is she ok? And many swear words beginning used.

“Everyone shut up! Risotto and Prosciutto stay here, the rest of you get out now,” Melone shouted. He was never one to lose his temper, that was Ghiaccio’s job. The more La Squadra yelled the more nervous Melone got, he did not want shaky hands while trying to keep you alive.

The whole room went silent and Melone continued his work. Everyone he ordered to leave left. They all sat outside your door waiting until they could come back in. Their “whispering” was incredibly loud but they were really trying their best to behave well.

Melone called Risotto over. “Try to see if you can stop all the iron from leaving her body.” The leader did as he was asked and activated his Stand. Prosciutto stood in the corner of the room waiting for commands from Melone, Risotto used his stand until the purple haired man was finally able to sew up the wound. 

After many hours the job was finally completed. Your body was cleaned of dried blood and all the cuts were bandaged up. Risotto slipped off his coat and very gently moved you into it. He had a feeling you would be upset if you woke up and were indecent. Melone cleaned up the room and put away the remaining medical supplies.

Risotto, Melone and Prosciutto left the room. They walked into the hallway and saw all the other men at their feet. They all stood up and faced Melone.

“Y/N is still unconscious. She was badly injured on her mission but we do not know how. Once she wakes we will figure out what happened. For now she just needs to rest. I fixed her up better than any doctor could, I promise you all she’ll be fine.”

The men all let out a sigh in relief. “Can we go see her,” Formaggio asked.

Melone shrugged. “I need to watch over her for the night to make sure nothing bad happens. If you wanted to I suppose you could stay in the room too. But you must be quiet.”

“I’ll spend the night with her too,” Prosciutto said. There was no way he was going to leave you alone in your current state.

“Ok! Does anyone else want to stay with us,” Melone asked.

“I do,” the whole group said in unison. They might be a group of deadly assassins but there was no denying how much they loved and cared for their teammates.

Melone let out a small laugh. “I’m afraid the room is too small for that.” Seems like Melone forget his friends are stubborn as all hell and don’t take no for an answer.

So everyone stuffed themselves into the room. Most of them laid on the floor. Only ones in chairs were Melone, Prosciutto and Risotto. Everyone tried their best to stay awake but it was so late at night and the stress had token a lot out of them. Even the three boys in chairs were beginning to get sleepy. Eventually everyone fell asleep except for Prosciutto. One of the most lovable qualities about Prosciutto is his will power. For a split second he heard a whine that sounded like yours. His eyes snapped open and he jumped out of his chair. He ran to your bedside.

“Y/N? Y/N are you awake,” Prosciutto asked desperately. There was no response. He felt tears prick his eyes. Was he really so in love with you that now he’s hearing your voice in his head?

“Where….. where am I,” you asked in a weak voice. The biggest smile appeared on Prosciutto face. You were alive, you were ok. “Your awake….” he cried loudly.

At the sound of the sudden commotion the whole team woke up. Illuso turned on the lamp next to him. “What the hell is going on?”

“Di Molto she’s ok,” Melone exclaimed. He ran up next to you. The rest of the team sprung up along with him to come see you.

“Don’t scare us like that,” Ghiaccio said. The whole team was very happy to see you awake. They began asking you questions left and right and trying to talk to you.

Prosciutto noticed how confused you looked. “Everyone get out. Y/N needs some time to collect her bearings.”

The whole team grumbled but did as they were told. “Feel better Y/N,” you heard Formaggio yell before he got the door slammed on him.

You tried to sit up but Prosciutto quickly stopped you. “Don’t do that, you could hurt yourself more.”

You hummed and refused to look him in the eyes. This was so embarrassing. You got so hurt you passed out and caused all of your friends to worry about you.

“Y/N, what happened on the mission,” Prosciutto finally asked.

“There was a Stand User and a group of men with him. His Stand nullified all Stand attacks. I just had to fight with my fists. They all had knives...”

Prosciutto sighed. It was no secret that you were the weakest of the group physically. You could handle one person of your size but nothing else. He should’ve been the one to go on that mission. Prosciutto was fairly strong and had perfect aim with his gun, if he was on the mission it would’ve been finished in no time.

“I’m sorry Y/N. I know you tried your best. From now on we’ll always send you out with a partner. You can be with me and Pesci, no one will hurt you then. At least those fucking bastards are killed now.”

You gulped. “A-about that….” You felt tears forming in your eyes. “I failed the mission, I couldn’t kill the target.”

Prosciutto eyes went wide. What? How did you fail a mission? That’s never happened and he was sure it never would. “Are you saying that those men who hurt you are still out there alive?”

You sadly nodded. “Prosciutto please don’t be mad. I’m so sorry, I’ll do anything to make it up to the team and you.”

He patted your head. “Dolcezza, I’m not mad at you.” He gave you a loving smile and kissed your cheek. “I’ll be right back, stay here.”

The nickname and the kiss left you too flustered to do anything. Your crush just kissed you and acted like it was nothing!

While you flipped out over the kiss Prosciutto was angrily stomping to the main room. He slammed open the door. The boys looked to him and asked what happened.

“Their still alive. Y/N couldn’t finish the mission. The sick assholes who hurt my girl are still out there. Get them.”

The team usually takes their orders from Risotto. Prosciutto has never sent anyone on a mission. Right now though things were different.

Risotto stood up. “I’ll go.” Ghiaccio stood up too. “I’m coming with you. I don’t want any of those mother fuckers to be alive by the end of the night.”

Prosciutto was very happy that those two men were going. He knew they would give the target what they deserved. The blond headed back to your room and the other members waited for their turn to see you.

He saw you crying. “No no, don’t cry Bella. I promise you no one is upset with you.”

You choked on your sobs. “But I heard yelling and doors slamming.”

He grabbed your hand and gently rubbed it. “They were just excited to get their revenge on the people who hurt you, that’s all.”

Prosciutto had never been this gentle with anyone ever. He was treating you like a glass that could be broken at any minute.

You couldn’t fight the blush that was creeping onto your face. Prosciutto noticed it and gave you another kiss. “I’m very proud of you Y/N, as a teammate and as your lover.” For the rest of the night Prosciutto never once left your side. He was going to be there for you no matter what.

[foxthefanboi]

Let me tell you that I love you

Summary: Katsuki comes back to the dorms drunk. When Izuku helps him get to bed, Katsuki reveals a lot more than he intended to.

Fandom: My Hero Academia Pairing: Katsuki Bakugo/Izuku Midoriya Characters: Katsuki Bakugo, Izuku Midoriya, Bakusquad Word Count: 3,400 Rating: T AO3: Link

Other tags: post–Deku vs Kacchan 2, drunken confessions, first kiss

Notes: Beta-read by @thequirkygirlnextdoor, thank you !

Excerpt:

“And you know what else about you I can’t stand? You’re so nice all the time. What’s with that? You don’t even try and everyone falls in love with you. I hate that about you, Deku.”

“I know.”

“I always thought everyone else was so fucking dumb for it, but looks like I wasn’t so different from them after all.”

“Kacchan…” Izuku’s voice was very quiet. “What are you saying?”

Fic:

1. Drunk

When Kirishima woke him up at two in the morning, Izuku really wasn’t expecting to hear that a few of their classmates had snuck out to a party and Katsuki had come back completely wasted.

“He’s actually a total lightweight,” Kirishima told Izuku as they walked down the stairs to the common room. “He had like, three drinks and now he’s a mess.”

“How’d you get him to drink? That’s so unlike him.”

“Easy. We just told him he couldn’t outdrink us and he had to prove us wrong.” Kirishima smiled, flashing his sharp teeth.

Izuku sighed. “So why did you wake me up at two in the morning for this?”

“He asked for you as soon as we got back.”

Izuku stopped in his tracks.  “Me? Why?”

“I don’t know. We tried to get him to drink some water and go to bed but he wouldn’t stop asking for you.”

“Oh,” Izuku said, continuing to walk again.

Why would Katsuki be asking for him? It wasn’t too long after their second fight at Ground Beta. Maybe Katsuki wanted to make some sort of point? Maybe his drunken self wanted to get into another fight? Or maybe since their relationship had shifted, he just felt more comfortable being vulnerable in front of Izuku rather than others? 

Right, like that would ever happen.

“Midoriya,” Kirishima said, interrupting his thoughts. “You’re muttering again.”

“Oh, sorry.”

They reached the common room, where Katsuki was sitting on the couch with his arms crossed and Ashido, Sero, and Kaminari in a half circle around him. It seemed they were trying, with no success, to cajole Katsuki into drinking a cup of water.

“Kacchan?” Izuku said.

Katsuki turned around. The corner of his mouth turned up when he met Izuku’s eyes. “Took you damn long enough, nerd.”

“You asked for me?”

“Yeah. I have to tell you something.”

“Tell me what?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Okay. Maybe it’ll come back to you. Let’s get you to bed, Kacchan.”

Katsuki stood up from his spot on the couch and stumbled over to Izuku.

“Seriously?” Sero said. “He won’t listen to us telling him to go to bed for ten minutes but you get him to go in ten seconds? I thought he didn’t like you!”

“I don’t,” Katsuki snapped. “I just dislike you more.”

“Ouch,” Kaminari said. “C’mon, man.”

“Let’s go,” Izuku said. Katsuki looked like he’d wander off in the wrong direction without guidance, so Izuku took his hand to pull him towards the stairs. Izuku was surprised Katsuki didn’t pull his hand away immediately; instead, he gripped Izuku’s hand in his and followed him without a word. Izuku ignored the butterflies fluttering in his stomach from the touch. 

“What is happening?” Kaminari whispered to Ashido, eyeing their held hands.

“No one is going to believe us in the morning,” Sero muttered.

Katsuki flipped them off on their way out of the room.

“Hey, Kacchan,” Izuku said as he guided Katsuki up through the stairwell. “You really don’t need to drink just because someone challenges you to, you know.”

“I had to show them I could win.”

“But you didn’t win.”

Katsuki pulled his hand out of Izuku’s and glared at him. “Fuck you. I was having an off day. Next time, I’ll outdrink them for sure.”

“Maybe you should focus on keeping a winning sober streak instead. I had my last drink fourteen days ago”–an accident, when he hadn’t noticed the alcohol warning on the can, and Uraraka and Iida had had to spend ten minutes calming him down after he realized–“and it’s been zero days for you. So it looks like I’m winning at being sober the longest.”

“Yeah? Well, I’m gonna be sober for the rest of my goddamn life. Think you can beat that, nerd?”

“I’ll try my best,” Izuku said. “And you know I don’t give up easily.”

Katsuki seemed content with the answer, so Izuku took his hand again and led him up the rest of the stairs to Katsuki’s room.

“How are you feeling?” Izuku asked Katsuki as he helped lead him into his room.

“Fucking great. I feel like I’m the best. Number freaking one.”

“You always feel like that.”

“Tch. Of course your dumb ass would think that. You don’t see how things have changed?”

Izuku wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that. Sure, things had shifted after their second fight at Ground Beta, but Izuku never thought Katsuki’s confidence in himself would waver. 

Katsuki swayed on his feet, which immediately pulled Izuku from his thoughts.

“Hey,” Izuku said, reassuring. “Sit down here, okay?”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Katsuki said, but he was unsteady enough that it didn’t take much for Izuku to push him into a seated position on the bed.

Izuku set about making Katsuki ready for bed. He set a trash can next to Katsuki’s feet in case he had to throw up. He filled up a glass with water and set it down on the nightstand. He tugged off Katsuki’s shoes and put them by the door.

Izuku had just grabbed one of the post-workout electrolyte drinks that Katsuki kept around when he heard Katsuki throw up.

“Aw, Kacchan,” Izuku said. He sat next to Katsuki on the bed and rubbed his back as he continued to retch into the bin. 

“Knock it…” Katsuki said, voice hoarse and strained, “Knock it off.”

“No.”

“Asshole.”

It took a few minutes for Katsuki to stop vomiting. When he had apparently decided nothing else was going to come up, he flopped back on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling with eyes damp and breath heavy from the effort of throwing up.

“Wait, Kacchan, not yet, drink this.”

“I told you not to tell me what to do,” Katsuki muttered.

Izuku forced Katsuki up into a seated position and passed him the bottle. “Number one heroes keep themselves hydrated so they aren’t too hungover to train in the morning.”

Katsuki groaned and took the bottle from Izuku before chugging the entire thing down.

“Happy?” he asked, tossing the empty bottle at Izuku. It hit Izuku’s forehead and then bounced to the floor. 

“Yeah.”

Katsuki stretched out on the bed and yawned.

“Looks like you’re okay,” Izuku said. “I’ll let you get some sleep.”

But as he turned to leave, Katsuki caught his wrist. “Stay, Deku.”

“What? Did you remember what you wanted to tell me?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” Izuku said hesitantly. He sat back down on the bed. “So, what is it?”

Katsuki looked up at Izuku with thoughtful, relaxed eyes. Izuku smiled just a little bit. Katsuki was kind of pretty when he wasn’t angry.

“I wanted to tell you that you’re intolerable,” Katsuki finally said.

“What?” Izuku said, shocked out of his admiration. “Kacchan?”

“Yeah. You know what I really can’t stand about you?” Katsuki said.

“Probably a lot of things,” Izuku said. It was two in the morning and he wasn’t sure he wanted to get into a list of grievances right now, but Katsuki had asked him to stay, so he’d stay for now.

“I can’t stand these fucking freckles.” Katsuki reached out and brushed a thumb across the freckles on Izuku’s cheek. 

Not quite what Izuku had expected. His eyes were wide as he rested a hand on top of Katsuki’s. He couldn’t remember the last time Katsuki had touched him gently like this. Not since they were little kids. Or maybe not even then.

“There’s more than the fucking stars in the sky. And I want to find the constellations in them, but you’re always so goddamn far away.” His speech was still slurred, but the words were running together in a way that was less messy and drunk, and more gentle and sleepy. A warmth settled in Izuku’s core. Katsuki seemed calm now, his eyes idly running over the freckles on Izuku’s cheeks. After a moment he dropped his hand and met Izuku’s eyes again.

“And you know what else I can’t stand? You’re so nice all the time. What’s with that? You don’t even try and everyone falls in love with you. I hate that about you, Deku.”

“I know.”

“I always thought everyone else was so fucking dumb for it, but looks like I wasn’t so different from them after all.”

“Kacchan…” Izuku’s voice was very quiet. “What are you saying?”

He knew he should get Katsuki to stop, to shut up and fall asleep so he wouldn’t say anything he’d regret in the morning. But Izuku needed to know. Katsuki was holding on to something important, and if Izuku didn’t find out now, he probably never would.

Katsuki smiled, just slightly, just a little bit sad. “I’m saying I don’t want to feel like this. Because you know what the worst part about you is?” Katsuki picked up Izuku’s right hand. “This hand. Look at it. It’s so fucked up. You’ve got all these scars and these weird crooked fingers.”

Izuku was silent as Katsuki turned his hand over and traced a finger over the scar across it.

“Who just goes and fucks themselves up the way you do? You’re such a stupid asshole. Learn your limits and stop pushing past them. Stop saying you’re fine when you’re not.”

Izuku hadn’t even noticed he was crying until he felt Katsuki reach up and wipe away his tears.

“That's why I can’t say anything to you. I need to keep you at arm’s length.  You’re gonna get your dumb ass killed because of some stupid self-sacrificial bullshit, and I don’t want to be destroyed too.”

“Kacchan…….” The tears were falling faster now, and Izuku squeezed his eyes shut and grit his teeth in a futile attempt to stop them. He’d had no idea Katsuki felt like this. Izuku thought he hadn’t cared, that he was just helping him and All Might to develop One For All because he felt a responsibility to do so.

And the comment about his freckles… That was almost romantic. Was there really something there? Or was Izuku reading too much into things?

“Dumb nerd,” Katsuki said. “Promise me you’ll do better.”

“B-better?”

“Promise me you’ll look out for yourself. Saving people means saving yourself, you know.”

“Yeah, Kacchan, I… Yeah, I’ll look out for myself. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I made you worry.”

“You fucking should be,” Katsuki said, closing his eyes. “You’ve always been such a goddamn nightmare.”

Before Izuku could think of a response, Katsuki’s breathing had gone steady.

“Kacchan?”

No response. He was asleep. 

Well, that was it, then. Izuku stood up and walked to the door. He turned back to look at Katsuki once more. He should go, but… Katsuki had asked him to stay, hadn’t he? He’d told Izuku all those things. The least Izuku could do was not sneak out in the middle of the night.

He took a blanket from the end of the bed and draped it over Katsuki, and then sat next to the bed with his knees pulled up close to his chest. Izuku was pretty sure he wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight. He had too much to think about.

2. Hungover

Izuku felt like he’d just closed his eyes when he woke up to the sound of Katsuki throwing up in the trash bin again. He blinked tiredly and yawned, and then looked up at Katsuki.

Katsuki looked terrible. Pale, almost greenish complexion; tired, bloodshot eyes; wrinkled clothes. Izuku didn’t need to ask to know that a hangover headache accompanied that particular look.

“Kacchan? How are you feeling?”

“What do you think? Like shit, dumbass,” Katsuki said, voice hoarse. “What are you doing in my room?”

“I wanted to make sure you didn’t need anything during the night. You were really wasted.”

Katsuki grabbed the cup of water from the nightstand and took a long drink. 

“Whatever, nerd. You wanna fill me in on what happened last night?”

Izuku hesitated. “Well… What do you remember?” Izuku wasn’t even sure how to approach the subject. If Katsuki had forgotten, wouldn’t it be best to just drop it and never mention it again? Or did Katsuki deserve to know what he’d revealed while he was drunk?

Katsuki furrowed his brow, thinking. “I had a few drinks, and then came back to the dorms…”

“What else?”

“You were in my room…” Katsuki said. There was a flash of vulnerability quickly covered up with anger. “I bet you loved seeing me like that, huh? A totally helpless idiot that you could feel all superior to?”

“Huh?” Katsuki had voiced a similar concern at Ground Beta, but Izuku had thought they’d worked past that. Apparently not. “No, you were drunk, so I brought you to your room and helped you go to bed. That’s it.”

Katsuki scowled and crossed his arms. 

Izuku hesitated and said, “You did, uh, tell me some things.”

“What did I say?” Katsuki asked, narrowing his eyes. When he saw the uneasy expression on Izuku’s face, he clenched his jaw, hard. “Shit. Tell me what I said. Exactly what I said.”

“You said… You said that you cared about me, but that you wished you didn’t because I don’t take myself into account.”

Katsuki scowled, his eyes flicking away.

“There was something else you said, too. Kacchan… Do you… like me? Uh, as something more, I mean?”

Katsuki’s tired eyes flew back over to meet Izuku’s. “Why the fuck does it matter to you, nerd? Looking for something to hold over me?”

“No, Kacchan, I—” I like you too!

“You want some gossip to share with your friends, is that it?”

“No, I—” I like you too!

“Get the hell out of my room.” Katsuki stood up, swaying on his feet a little before he grabbed Izuku’s arm and yanked him to his feet. “Out.”

“Wait, I–” Let me tell you that I like you too!

“Go. And if you tell anyone about any of this, I’ll fucking end you.”

Katsuki opened the door and shoved Izuku out, slamming the door shut behind him.

Izuku let out a long breath. How was he supposed to tell Katsuki how he felt if Katsuki wouldn’t let him?

3: Sober

Katsuki did an impressive job at avoiding Izuku for the rest of the weekend, always finding an excuse to leave the room any time Izuku entered and ignoring Izuku’s knocks on his door.

Izuku knew Katsuki’s routine, though, so Monday morning he woke up early to wait by the front door for Katsuki to come back from his 4am run. 

Katsuki pushed open the door a little before 5am. He was breathing hard and his skin glistened with sweat, and even in Izuku’s state of anxiety, he couldn’t help but stare. Hot and sweaty was a good look on Kacchan.

Katsuki froze when he saw Izuku, and Izuku quickly pulled his focus back to the conversation they needed to have.

“Kacchan–” Izuku started, but Katsuki was already striding past him towards the stairs. Izuku grabbed his arm. “Kacchan, stop. We need to talk.”

“I don’t want to talk,” Katsuki said, pulling his arm out of Izuku’s grasp.

“But the other day–”

“I was just starting to be able to tolerate you, but then you went and fucked it up by asking that question. What’s wrong with you?”

“Just let me talk!” Izuku snapped. “Maybe if you’d let me talk in the first place, you wouldn’t have had to spend all weekend being so dramatic!”

Katsuki narrowed his eyes, but didn’t say anything.

“You opened up to me, and I didn’t do the same for you, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I made you feel like I was just trying to get something to hold over you.”

Katsuki was silent, his whole body tense but his face betraying no emotion.

“It doesn’t really matter if you like me or not, but you deserve to know, at least… I like you, Kacchan. I have for a long time. That’s why I asked how you felt. You’ve always been out of reach, but I thought, maybe…”

Katsuki frowned. “Why the hell would you like me like that?”

“Because you’re amazing! I keep telling you, why won’t you listen?”

“I treated you like shit.”

“You know it’s always been more complicated than that.”

“This is what I meant when I said you never take yourself into account. Just let it go, moron.”

Izuku’s eyes filled with frustrated tears. “I don’t understand. I tell you I like you and you respond by telling me I never think about myself? Can’t you just tell me how you feel?”

When he saw Izuku’s tears and heard his words, Katsuki’s guarded expression cracked, showing something more gentle underneath. He took a deep breath, and the tension seemed to melt from his body.

“From what you told me about last night… I already did. It’s not my fault you’re too fucking stupid to connect the dots.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

Katsuki let out a frustrated huff, but he took Izuku’s hand in his. He took a step closer, bringing his face within inches of Izuku’s. 

“How many times do I have to tell you not to tell me what to do?” he said softly. He closed the last few inches and kissed Izuku.

Izuku had thought about this moment a lot. He’d spent a lot of time staring, as inconspicuously as he could, at Katsuki’s lips. He’d spent a lot of nights up late, wondering what it would be like. How it would feel.

It felt as good as he thought it would. Underneath the scent of sweat and smoke, there was something that was distinctly Kacchan, a familiar, comforting scent Izuku had known his whole life. All the thoughts disappeared from his brain as he savored the feeling of Katsuki’s lips against his and the heat of their bodies so close together. 

But doubt started creeping in after just a moment. What was Katsuki thinking? Had he ever thought about kissing Izuku before? Was he disappointed? Did he wish he could take it back? Maybe he–

Izuku didn’t realize how tense he was until Katsuki pulled back and met his eyes, gentle concern in them. “You don’t want this?”

“Please,” Izuku said. His mouth was dry and the word barely came out, so he swallowed and tried again. “Please don’t stop.”

The corner of Katsuki’s mouth turned up in a smirk. “Thought so. Stop overthinking it, nerd.” Katsuki kissed him again, but it wasn’t long before Izuku’s mind started wandering again - should he be doing something with his hands? How long did kisses usually last? Should he—

Stop overthinking it, he reminded himself. He relaxed his body and melted into the kiss. It was messy but gentle, Katsuki leading and Izuku following, for now. Izuku absently noted the feeling of Katsuki’s hands coming up to cup his face, the movement of his own arms wrapping around Katsuki’s sweat-damp waist, pulling him closer because as close as they were, it didn’t feel close enough.

They finally broke apart, both of them breathing hard.

Izuku was so happy, down to the core, his whole body tingling with the delight of being so wrapped up in Katsuki.

But a cold sense of anxiety descended on him within a few moments. “This means something, doesn’t it?” He couldn’t bear the thought of experiencing this and then going back to how things were.

“You’re so stupid.”

Izuku’s lower lip trembled.

“Yes, okay? It means something.” Katsuki leaned his forehead against Izuku’s. “I like you, you like me. Let’s see where it goes.”

Tears spilled over, streaming down Izuku’s face.

“What the hell are you crying for?” Katsuki said, stepping back to take Izuku’s face in his hands and wiping away the tears with his thumbs.

“I’m so happy.”

“You’re so pathetic. Come here.” Katsuki pulled Izuku into a hug and rested his chin on top of Izuku’s head.

Izuku buried his head in Katsuki’s shoulder, holding onto Katsuki like he was the only thing keeping Izuku grounded.

“I’m so happy,” Izuku murmured again.

“I am too, nerd,” he heard Katsuki mutter back.

* * *

Note: I got two parts of Katsuki’s drunken speech from 319 (“He doesn't take himself into account. He always just insists he’s fine.”) and 284 (“He just… deep down, he doesn't take himself into account, y'know? … It makes me want to keep him at arm's length.”).

[cuddlesslut]

Part Seven: Regrets

Atsumu x fem reader, Suna x rem reader, Hinata x fem reader

A/N: guess who’s fridge went out and won’t be able to get a new one till the 15th 🙋🏻‍♀️😩. Sorry this chapter is shorter than usual it’s kind of a filler But next chapter should be pretty long. I know a couple of people were wonder what happened with him so here we are with the return of a character. I might set up a poll for who should YN end up with so look out for that. I’m going to start writing my next story soon it’s going to be another angst!

Warning: Angst that’s about it. Maybe a lil lewd language.

Part Six: Promises

Part Eight: Hope

He laid in his empty bed staring up at his ceiling the only sound filtering through the room was the echo of the tv in the livingroom. He didn’t have the energy to go shut it off, plus he found comfort the noise it brought he found the silence unbearable. He sighed as he looked at the open space next to him. He never took much stock in how empty it felt without you next to him. The smell of your shampoo had long since vanished from the pillows. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine you were here next to him your head resting on his chest your hands interwoven talking about your plans for the day but while the memory played in his head clear as day his body had forgotten your warmth. It wasn’t too hard to picture , you had spent several morning just like that wrapped in each other’s embrace. He thinks to the mornings he’d walk out of his early showers to find you leaning against the kitchen counter drinking your morning coffee. He can still remember how you enjoyed your first cup of coffee to start your day. You liked your coffee sweet , but to were you could still taste the rich coffee flavor, always pairing it with an array of creamers. He remembers when you first started staying over at his place and he realized your affinity for flavored coffee he went out to the store and stocked up on as many flavors he could find in hopes you’d stay for more coffee before heading off to school. He loved that sight in the morning walking out and seeing you clad in just his shirt your hair a mess from last nights activities. But you weren’t here to have coffee in the morning, all of the creamers starting to expire, and he had no one to blame but himself.

Atsumu has spent the last seven month alone. There were a few nights he’d tried to pick up girls just to try and fill the gigantic hole left in his life by your absence but those all ended in disaster. One night he tried to have a careless hook up it didn’t get past the front door when he accidentally moaned your name when the random girl had cupped his manhood. She wasn’t very happy about that. He received a knee to the groin as she fleed the house. Another time he tried he was able to keep his mouth shut from making any mistakes after choosing a girl who was nothing like you but then he had another problem. He couldn’t get it up. You plagued his thoughts. You were the only woman his body wanted. It was quite embarrassing.

After Suna rocked his shit he finally started to snap out of his self pity. Why the hell was he crying? Because he was lonely? He can only imagine how lonely you felt every night he didn’t come home. He sighs running his hands down his face he really was a piece of shit he thinks. He didn’t treat you the way you deserved and he knows that. He knows he was selfish and inconsiderate. He knows he’s way to late but he regrets everything he did. Every single mistake eats away at him. None of it was worth it. Every flirt, every compliment that boosted his ego, the rush of excitement of being with someone else it was all worthless compared to being with you. He thinks back to everynight he stayed out late or he canceled dates, about the pain that hid behind your eyes. Now that his head wasn’t stuck up his ass he could finally see all of the misery he put you through. And he hated himself for it.

The setter wanted nothing more that to fix all of his mistakes, but he knew he was too late. Atsumu didn’t expect you to ever in a thousand years forgive him or even in a million years want him back, but he knows he can’t just do nothing. He’d spend the rest of his days trying to make amends. After Suna had pointed out how horrible he was for not looking for you he did everything to find you. He started by calling the University to see if you had been attending class but even with the title of fiancé , which he understood was false by not adding former to the title, they refused him any information to protect your privacy. He had long noticed the empty bank account but he wasn’t worried about that the money it was the least you deserved. Plus the fantasy of making you his wife and calling you YN Miya was nothing but a pipe dream now. So he’s sure the money would do you better. He tried to follow any money trail you left. He found the hotel that you must have run to that night. But even that was a bust leading to a dead end. He only knew one more course of action. He called your parents. They refused to answer his calls. Eventually he drove down to Hyogo by himself. The setter stood there on the front steps he’d stand on every morning when he’d walk you to school. It felt so familiar to knock on the cedar door, but everything felt so distant from his memories. Still he wasn’t quite sure what he expected, maybe for you to answer the door with a bright smile like you had all those years ago yet what he received was your mother standing there with a look of disgust present. He didn’t get a word in before she slammed the door in his face. He begged for her come back to please talk to him he just needed answers but he only received silence. He stayed there for close to an hour trying to get just a morsel of information. It was useless they refused to speak to him. That was his last idea he could come up with for finding you. Full of dread he made his way to his car ready to make the long drive home. The next day he received a phone call from his brother.

“Hey Samu what’s u-” the blonde started before his grey haired twin interrupted his greeting going straight to the point.

“She’s alive and fine,” Atsumus heart stuttered before he breathed a sigh of relief. He opened his mouth to ask his next question but Osamu cut him off yet again already knowing what his twin was going to ask.

“No we don’t know where she is. Kita-Senpai went to her parents and all they’d state was she was alive and out of harm, not that I’d tell you where she is if I knew,” Osamu’s tone was sharp. Atsumu knew he deserved that. His brother had made him well aware of his dissatisfaction in the blondes actions. He had to thank the his brother though, as upset he was with him he still looked out for him. Always checking up on him making sure he was eating and keeping up with his hygiene, throwing away all the liquor he could find because as disappointed he was with Atsumu he couldn’t let him tear himself apart.

“I know Samu, thank you for telling me.” He spoke softly before clicking the end call button.

He accepted that it was best he stayed out of your life. He wanted to make everything up to you and if staying out of your life was wanted then he’d respect your wishes. He spent the next months bettering himself. He cut all alcohol out of his life. Only going out when it was with his teammates although that was a rare occurrence they were also quite disappointed with how he had treated you, especially his wing spiker Sakusa. Omi-Omi had always had a soft spot for you. But still they didn’t let it affect their game play. He focused all of his energy on volleyball. He even started going to a few therapy sessions for his self distructive behaviors and impulses. He really wanted to do and be better if not for you then for himself. Although he still had trouble being home alone without you, never feeling quite whole. With out you this house would never truly be his home again. He was starting to get better and not drown in agony every morning he woke up alone although he knew he deserved it. One step that had made the process easier was boxing up the remainder of your belongings that you had left. For so long he had kept everything just as you left it hopeful for your return thinking maybe everything could go back to normal and life could be picked up where it was left off although this time he’d swear to never hurt you again. It was unrealistic to think that though. His therapist had told his several times it was a step he needed to take and while it took several months he was finally able to remove any trace from the house. That night he cried him self to sleep from the finality that came from not seeing a piece of you around as though you had never been there in the first place.

He regretted not cherishing you for the amazing woman you are. He’ll never forgive himself for losing the best thing to everything to happen to him. At Seven months since that night he was finally able to breath when he went home, not suffocating from regret every moment present in those walls. The Jackals were on a winning streak and even more exciting they had just got a new member. And after all these years he was able to hold up at least one promise he had made after breaking so many at least he could fulfill one promise by finally getting to set for Shoyo Hinata.

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[lostforysbth]

soobin wasn't like yeonjun when he was tiny- he was worse. at least, at first, he was.

given his stubborn streak, having him tiny with lots of hiding space did no one any good. the first few times they tried getting soobin to bathe, he ran away and hid until he came back to his normal size.

by the fourth time, the members decided to lure him out with icecream, and it worked!

as the oldest, they let yeonjun deal with soobin while he bathed, making sure he didn't run away and washed properly. soobin took it like the brat he was, frowning and exerting extra force while scrubbing himself. occasionally, he would purposely splash some water out of the sink, hoping to get some droplets on yeonjun.

once he was done, yeonjun couldn't help but coo.

"aww, who's a good boy?" he said, smiling while giving soobin a towel to dry with. "that wasn't so bad, was it?"

soobin let out the loudest 'hmph' he could manage in his tiny body, which included a small voice crack. wrapped in the small towel, still pouting and ignoring his hyung, yeonjun decided to indulge to lighten the mood.

"wanna watch some anime while we wait?" yeonjun noticed the little glance soobin sent his way and took it as a win. grinning, he carried the tiny man into his room.

with his laptop propped on his chair, playing jujutsu kaisen, he and soobin watched on from the bed.

2 episodes in, yeonjun felt a movement against his hand. he only looked when the movements stopped and realised soobin had made it his bed for the night.

"you can't sleep in that, baby, you'll get sick."

yeonjun tried unwrapping the towel as gently as he could but the younger only held it tighter around himself.

"soobin." the tiny man only shook his head and burrowed his face into the towel.

"how about," he started, tugging the towel a little to see soobin's face, "i put you under my blanket and then you give me the towel? is that okay?"

the younger gave in and that was that.

if the following morning they woke up with yeonjun spooning a naked normal-sized soobin, no one has to know.

the next time soobin shrunk, yeonjun was ready. he'd searched at toy stores and for tailors willing to take on the project of customising small clothes, "for a doll," he told them. he bought some that he thought would suit soobin and had others customised just for him.

once soobin was bathed, after a chase no less, yeonjun brought him to his room where he had laid out the clothes on his bed.

with an assortment of all the small clothing, soobin finally felt comfortable enough to wander around the dorm in his tiny state. of course, the first thing he did was pull pranks on everyone- missing items, misplaced phones, pinches (bites) on hands while they sat on the sofa.

eventually, everyone realised soobin was pulling on their strings. now, whenever he did those pranks, they would put him in a big bowl 'to reflect'.

it went on to the point where, when they couldn't find their stuff, they would threaten soobin with the big bowl to make him fess up.

the first time they used it, soobin clung onto the sleeve of beomgyu's sweater. he shook his head and let out loud whines, shoulders shaking. after getting soobin in the bowl, he stuck out his tongue at them and proceeded to ignore everyone, even when they offered icecream.

he only softened up again after yeonjun brought him to bed, tucked him in, a little kiss on the top of his head, and a "sorry we used the big bowl on you."

[sassycassie-s-writing]

A Future That’s Worth It

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): A Court of Thorns and Roses Series/Rhysand

Rating: PG/K+ (lots of implications but nothing explicit)

Original Idea: Nothing in particular.

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) I have some headcanons on height and weight of the characters that I used for this one. Have fun!

^^^^^

The bed dipped behind me. I’d been more than halfway to sleep, but the movement shocked me awake. I rolled over.

Rhysand gave me a lazy smile. “Evening, love,” he said. “Did I wake you?”

“Technically no, but a little bit.”

“Sorry.” The look on his face implied he was in no way genuinely apologetic. He shuffled to get more comfortable, one wing draping over the two of us, and loosed a long sigh. I snuggled against his bare chest, eyes on his tattoos.

“Something the matter?” I asked quietly. He wrapped an arm around my shoulder.

“If I never have to truly fight again, for the rest of what will hopefully be a very long life, I will be grateful,” he said, breath fluttering my loose hairs.

“Me too,” I agreed.

I felt a claw against my mental shields, a single, gentle drag against the black marble I used to keep my private thoughts private. A request for entry. I reached out tiredly to feel his own mental shield was already lowered. A rare occurrence for him. He had one of the most complex shields I’d ever experienced.

I let the shield drop. His presence overwhelmed me almost immediately. I’d probably never fully witness the extreme depth of his power, but it dominated over my little well of magic by what was probably thousands of times.

His presence was the comforting, healing darkness of lovers clinging to one another. The gentle shade under a wide oak tree on a hot summer day. Nothing of the sharp, secret darkness of spies and assassins. The soft night of dreams. “Do you feel peace, now?” I asked. “Now that the King of Hybern is dead and his army decimated?”

“It’ll take years for me to reach true peace for that, after all the pain and death and suffering. But I feel peace right now, holding you. I feel a grim tranquility in knowing I would gladly cause more carnage if it meant keeping you safe. I hated releasing that beast inside me during the war, but I’ll always go feral to protect what’s mine. You, our family, this city, our people. All of it. I would fight until my own death to ensure the future of those I’m responsible for.”

“Self-sacrificing fool,” I teased. There was no bite to the words.

“You’re one too,” he retorted with the same tired lack of malice.

“Never said I wasn’t. Therefore, you can’t call me a hypocrite.”

“Touché.”

I wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him closer to me. “Get some sleep, High Lord. We both need it.”

He brushed some of my loose hairs from my face. “I love you,” he said.

“I love you too.” I smiled slightly.

The sweet caress of his darkness in my mind soothed all the day’s worries. If neither of us ever had to pick up a blade for a battle ever again, it would be too soon.

I reached up with the hand around his waist and stroked the bone of his wing. He shivered, but he’d taught me where to touch to calm, and where to touch to excite. His other muscles were pliant, relaxed, as I ran my fingers gently over his wing.

We put each other to sleep not long after that.

—

“—told him it was a bad idea, but he was just like, ‘Stop telling me how to live my life!’” Mor’s loud voice woke me the next morning as the doors opened downstairs, the last bit dropping as low as she could go in a horrible but hilarious imitation of Cassian. Amren’s laughter followed.

The bed was empty besides me, but Rhys’ side was still warm.

I got up and pulled on my dressing gown over my nightgown. I brushed my hair briefly so it wasn’t quite so tangled and ventured out of our room.

Mor and Amren had already made it to the kitchen and were raiding the pantry for breakfast.

“What’s a bad idea?” I asked around a yawn.

“Cassian was gonna challenge Azriel to a flying race. From the House to the roof here,” Mor explained, pointing directly overhead.

“Azriel’s gonna win,” I said.

“That’s what I said. Cassian didn’t listen.”

I chuckled, joining them for breakfast.

Amren looked around. “Where’s your High Lord?”

“I was gonna ask you two the same thing. I assumed he got out of bed and came down to talk to you guys. Sheets were still warm when I woke up.”

Mor’s expression turned to one of amused dread. “He’s gonna join the race,” she said.

“I bet you’re right,” I replied. I rubbed my eyes. “They are five-and-a-half centuries old and they still behave like children.”

“Glad you’re his mate and not me,” Amren said with a smile as she drank from her goblet and shuddered. She hated food still, but she no longer had a choice.

“Frankly, me too,” I said. “I can’t imagine the chaos the two of you would cause.”

Mor laughed.

I assume you’re at the House of Wind? I thought down the bond, pushing the thought hard to make sure he received it.

Yep, Rhys’ voice replied in my mind.

I’ll be on the roof. Mor and I will referee.

I don’t know what you’re talking about. The words were too laced with laughter to be the truth.

Children. All three of you, I fired back.

All I got in return was his rumbling laughter. Distant thunder promising a welcome summer storm.

“Wanna join me on the roof?” I offered to Mor and Amren.

“Not really,” Amren replied.

“I will,” Mor said.

The two of us climbed up the stairs and sat on the white-painted iron chairs. Mor had a cup of tea and I had a mug of molten chocolate.

I looked up at the House of Wind. So far, there were no figures flying around its peak.

Mor lounged on her chair and eyed me. “Aren’t you cold?”

I shrugged. The early spring air was still clinging to the cold of winter and my satin dressing gown and nightgown were clinging to the cold right along with it, but it was something of a welcome change after the stifling heat under the covers in bed. “I’ll be fine for how long it’ll take Rhys and his brothers to get here.”

You ready? I asked.

Waiting on you, he replied.

We’re ready.

Then look up.

“They’re going,” I said to Mor, turning my attention back to the House.

Sure enough, three figures leapt off a balcony near the peak, streaking in a straight line toward us, wings barely extended to keep them aloft and at the angle they wanted. From their distance I couldn’t make out who was who yet, but I knew it wouldn’t take long.

“Five gold marks on Azriel,” I said.

“Aren’t you supposed to always bet on Rhys?” Mor teased.

“Azriel is lighter than Rhys and Cassian. I’m making an educated guess.”

She laughed. “Okay. Five gold marks on Rhys then.”

We watched them get closer.

“Rhys is going to be offended you bet against him,” Mor remarked.

“Probably,” I agreed.

“Rhys can winnow and Azriel… kinda does to. With the shadows. I’m not sure how he does it,” Mor mused. “But, Cassian—he just flies everywhere. So he’s probably a little better at it than both of them. More practiced, you know?”

I nodded. “Yeah… how about, if Cassian wins, we each give Amren five marks?”

Mor laughed. “She’d love and hate that. That we made her bet for her and chose Cassian.”

I shrugged. “Probably. But she wouldn’t mind the money.”

“Not at all.”

I caught glints of blue and red. Rhys was on the left, no Siphons, with Cassian in the middle and Azriel to the right. I still couldn’t tell who was in front, but it looked like I might have been right about Azriel. He looked like he was barely ahead of Rhys and Cassian.

As the three drew closer, I realized this was the future we’d fought the war for. The future full of fun and joy. The future of stupid games and meaningless bets. No gambling lives. Just a few marks for no reason other than fun. If Rhys never turned into that beast again, if he’d done enough to ensure our safety and security—finally—then it was all worth it.

They were close enough to see their faces now. Mor and I cleared a place where three could land all close to the same time and not knock over any furniture or trip. While Mor thought it’d be funny, I didn’t want anyone to face-plant off the roof.

Azriel slammed feet first into the roof. I thought I heard the attic rattle. Rhys hit barely half a second after, with Cassian right behind.

Mor gave me a long-suffering glance and sipped her tea. “I owe you five marks,” she said before flouncing back downstairs.

“You placed bets?” Cassian asked.

“You’re surprised?” I retorted sharply. Azriel snorted quietly.

“Fair enough,” Cassian said.

“You bet against me?” Rhys sounded offended even as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders. His warmth banished the cold clinging to my dressing gown.

I shrugged nonchalantly, refusing to rise to his bait. “Azriel’s lighter than both of you. Skinnier. He can probably cut through the air easier. I made an educated guess,” I said, repeating what I said to Mor. I tilted up onto my tiptoes and kissed Rhys’ chin, since he was too tall for me to reach his cheek.

Rhys chuckled. “That’s okay, because I owe Cassian ten marks. I bet on Azriel too.” He kissed my forehead. The four of us still on the roof started making our way down. “So, what’s for breakfast?”

“Whatever anyone can find!” Mor shouted from below.

I grabbed Rhys’ wrist and held him so Cassian and Azriel would get ahead of us. When we were alone, I wrapped my arms around him. “This is the future we—you—fought for,” I whispered. “Is it worth it, to you?”

“I can’t think of anything more worth it.”

“Me neither.”

We held each other for a few more moments.

Then Cassian was calling us to haul downstairs before the food was gone.

Laughing, we descended.

[solarwonux]

1. “We have to be quiet.”

67.  “You should wear that more often.”

literary agent!jin x f!reader

genre: slice of life, fluff

w.c: 2.3k

warnings: a little suggestive, nudity, lots of fluff

note: writing this made me soft lolol. I love this couple so much, they’re absolutely adorable tbh lolol. Anyway, let me know your thoughts. Enjoy.xx

MASTERLIST || PROMPTS

“Come back to mine.” Seokjin flashes you an award winning smile, sending your heart into a frenzy. It fights against the beat of the pop song quietly playing through his car speakers, while he drives through the empty streets, not a car in sight, your hand gripped tightly in his.  

“But your roommates.” You whisper even though you don’t have to as there was no one around except for you and Seokjin. Yet, every time either of you mentioned your roommates your voices would dial down, fade into a whisper like an unspoken rule. Afraid that saying their names out loud would somehow summon them. 

“It’s almost four in the morning.” Seokjin stops at a red light, bringing your palm up to his lips, lingering there for a few seconds before setting it down to his lap. “They’re likely sleeping as we speak.” He states, flooring the gas once the light turns green. The impact makes your body hit his leather seat with a light ‘thud’. 

You groan, Seokjin laughs before easing up, slowing down. He liked to do that; catch you off guard. He showered himself in your reactions only to tease you until you kissed him to shut him up. 

“Please, I leave for my business trip tomorrow night and I want to spend all the time that I can with you before I leave.” Briefly, he takes his eyes off the road, fluttering his eyelashes, winding them into flight. 

You cave, because you also do and he knew that you would have no matter what. “Fine, but you’re only going to be gone for two days.” You roll your eyes, a pretty, soft smile decorating your face. The smile Seokjin first fell in love with five years ago. It’s amazing the two of you have been sneaking around for three of those five years and never once been caught. It’s stupid but he prides himself in keeping up with appearances. 

“But it’s my first one without you.” Seokjin grimaces, pulling into the parking lot in front of his apartment building, setting his car on park and turning the engine off. The penthouse he shared with three of his friends was dark and you let out a sigh of relief. 

He was right. There wasn’t a soul awake in that house. 

You shake your head, letting go of his hand and unbuckling your seat belt. Cringing when it hits the car window. Seokjin sends you a glare, his poor precious car that he saved up for years would break if he left it in your hands. You mumble a low apology before leaning over the middle console and planting a soft kiss against his plump lips to seal the deal. 

Seokjin beams, kissing you once more, “let’s go, I don’t think I can stay awake any longer.” He says and opens his car door, jogging over to your side. You wait, knowing that if you were to take initiative in opening your own door he would throw a mini tantrum, stating: “babe I know you’re an independent woman and don’t need me but let me feed my ego every once in a while.” So you let him. 

He janks the door open, the impulse threatening to knock him off his feet. His body was tired, so was yours. But neither of you had been able to sleep after knowing that there were barely twenty four hours left until Seokjin left for his first business trip without you.

You were promoted to Chief Editor at the publishing company. No longer a literary agent or sharing an office with your boyfriend as you were now a floor higher. It had really sent the two of you off the rails for a few days. He was light years proud of you, but he missed having you around. 

Seokjin offers his hand, leaning nonchalantly against the car door, his eyes drooping, heavy with sleep. He looked adorable, “thanks Jin.” You take his hand and he lazily pulls you out of the car, his arm circling around your waist. 

“Anything for you, my queen.” He mumbles, leaning in and leaving a chaste kiss against your forehead. “Now let's go, remember we have to be quiet.” He winks, placing his index finger above his lips, his hand traveling around your waist to your hand, lacing his fingers in between the spaces of yours.

You roll your eyes and slam the car door making him jump. A knowing glare sent your way making you laugh.

 “Babe.” He whines. 

 “We’re outside and they’re fourteen stories up, asleep. Even if the car door were to wake them up they have no way of knowing it’s us. Don’t worry.” You pat his chest and walk past him pulling him along. “Plus I can be quiet when I need to.” You look over your shoulder sending him a kiss. He shakes his head, pretending to grab it mid air and then placing it above his heart, with a lovesick look on his face. 

“So cheesy.” You say, a sigh of protest leaving his lips. 

“Only for you.” 

Sneaking into Seokjin’s apartment prompted it to be harder than expected.

For starter’s the second Seokjin and you walked into the dark apartment, he bumped into the coat rack near the front door, knocking it over. It hit the floor with a loud clatter, leaving you frozen, your pulse pounding against your ears. 

Even in the dark you could see Seokjin’s wide eyes. Panic streaked past them replacing the galaxies he kept hidden behind them. The sweat was pooling against your brow when the hallway light turned on. “The kitchen,” Seokjin’s yell is coated in a whisper. His arms signaling to the kitchen in a haste. “They won’t see you if you go into the kitchen.” 

You nod, jumping over the coat rack and running into the kitchen. Squatting down behind the counter for extra precaution. A laugh stifles behind your closed lips, the adrenaline rush waking you up. This is why you and Seokjin still snuck around, not that you needed to. You were more than positive that everyone has known about your relationship for years. The two of you weren’t necessarily careful, but it was still fun. 

“I thought you were sleeping.” Namjoon says. His voice drenched in sleep, arms crossed in front of him looking down at his roommate confused. 

Seokjin stood up, bringing the coat rack with him and leaned against it. “Couldn’t sleep, pre-business trip jitters so I went out for a drive.” He shrugs.

Namjoon raises his eyebrows suspiciously. Surely he was tired as hell and didn’t want to deal with yours and Seokjin’s antics tonight. He knew you were here, your choked laugh had given you away while he made his way into the living room. But for the sake of going back to the bed that was calling out to him. So, he pretended not to know. He’s been pretending for nearly three years. Another night wouldn’t hurt. 

“Alright well good night,” He squints, bringing up his wrist and taps his apple watch, 4:30am, it reads. “Or good morning, do you still need me to drive you to the airport tomorrow night?” He scratches the back of his neck and lets out a tired sigh. 

“Yeah, that would be great, thanks man. And sorry for waking you up. I think your clumsiness is rubbing off on me.” Seokjin drags the coat hanger, the legs screeching against the wooden floor making all three of you cringe at the noise. He sets it against the wall, fixing the coats to buy time. 

Namjoon shakes his head and yawns, stretching his arms above his head. “Whatever.” He says and turns around making his way to the comfort of his room once again. 

Seokjin closes the door to his room quietly. Letting out a sigh of relief thanking all his angel’s that the only one that woke up was Namjoon and not Hoseok. The ladder would’ve made him sit down on the couch and talk about his troubles. Or if he was in one of his moods - not the bad ones - he would’ve given him a run down on how his day went in full detail. 

“So much for being quiet Jin.” You scoff. 

Seokjin turns around and walks to you bringing you in into a tight hug, “It’s not my fault I forgot the stupid coat rack was there.” He mumbles against your hair, running a soothing hand down your back. 

“It’s your place, how do you forget the way things are set up.” You pull back, tilting your head to look up at him. Maybe it was because you were close to letting the sleep take over your body but he looked more radiant underneath the dim light of his room and somehow taller than earlier. It definitely had to be your sleep deprived delusions. There was no way the man before you could’ve grown another two inches in the last three hours.

“I’m too tired to argue with you so yes baby, my beautiful lover you are right.” He nuzzles his head into your neck, tickling your skin in the process. A tiny laugh falls out of your lips. It sounds like music to Seokjin’s ears. “Do you want to change?” He stands up straight, his brows furrowed in concern, while he takes in your stuffy work attire. 

“Yes, I feel I’ve been wearing these slacks for five days straight.” You huff pulling on the legs of your pants, revealing your lavender painted toenails, wiggling them against his carpeted floor.

At around eight Jin had clocked out and snuck his way into your office asking if you wanted him to take you home. A promise to stop at your favorite burger joint failing to finish escaping his mouth when you had cut him off and told him that you had to finish the re-edits of the novel you were assigned too. Your department was heavily understaffed which meant your work was doubled, biding you to stay late after hours to be able to make all your deadlines. It worried Jin to see you so overworked, but as much as it tired you out. You loved it so he never once complained to the company. 

Plus the two of you had appearances to keep up. Can’t have everyone knowing that he was head over heels for you and vice versa. 

But at around one he started to worry after not hearing from you for nearly two hours. He called you and that’s when he found out you were still at the office. Without a form of hesitation he put on his shirt and walked out the front door, keys in hand. Telling you he would be there in fifteen minutes. Which is how the two of you ended up driving around town for the last two hours sharing fries and caramel sundae from the fast food restaurant down the street of the company. Of course a couple make out sessions here and there after he parked the car at an abandoned Toy’s R’s Us. (The ‘r’ unlit so it read Toy’s Us instead, which for some reason sent the two of you in an uncontrollable fit of laughter.) 

Now you were here, in his room, still wearing your work clothes, shoulders dropping as finally the wave of exhaustion that had been plaguing your boyfriend for a good hour hit you. 

Seokjin untangles his limbs from you and walks to his closet. “They look good on you. I had half a mind to walk into your office this morning and get a good feel.”

“A good feel of what?” You cock your head. Nimble fingers moving up to unbutton your blouse. The annoying Chiffon material scraping against your soft skin. 

“Your ass.” He states throwing you the matching shirt of one of his pajamas. “Do you want the pants?” He turns around holding the striped material in his hands, swallowing thickly as he watches you remove your clothes, leaving you naked in the middle of his room. The only thing protecting you from his prying, hunger filled eyes were the flower patterned panties you kept on. 

“No, they're uncomfortable.” You bend down picking up the pajama shirt and unbutton the first few buttons. Oblivious to the way Seokjin was looking at you right now, burning his heated gaze into your body, loving the way it seemed to glow, shimmer, underneath the moonlight casting through his wide bedroom windows. In about two hours it would disappear for the night so he made sure he imprinted the image into the part of his brain that belonged to you. 

“You should wear that more often.” He throws the pants over his shoulders and stalks over to you.

“I’m not really wearing anything.” 

“Exactly.” He smirks. 

You roll your eyes and shrug on his shirt, leaving the first few buttons undone. You walk to the right of the bed - the one nearest to the window and the wall - and pull back his navy blue comforter. “Let’s go to sleep, I’m too tired to do anything.” You lay down.

Seokjin agrees, as much as he would like to just hold you close and make love to you until the sun rises. His eyes were closing in on him and he was sure the second he felt the heat of your body and your warmth wrap around him, he’d fall asleep. 

It’s not like it hasn’t happened before. 

“I agree, there’s always tomorrow...Well I mean today but in eight hours.” He reassures, laying down on his side and bringing the comforter up to his chin. He wraps his arm around your waist, resting his head against your chest, humming as the comfort overtakes him.

You rake your fingers through his hair, placing your cheek against the crown of it. “I love you, Jin, you make me so happy.” You whisper, closing your eyes. 

Seokjin smiles, bringing you closer, kissing the sliver of skin against his shirt. “I love you angel, you make my life worth living.” 

In seconds the silence and stillness of the night takes over. Your bodies relaxing, tangled up in a mess of limbs, finally welcoming sleep.

[apiratewhopines]

Thanks to @teamhook for the artwork and for helping me pick a movie that wasn’t already done!

Midnight

Chapter 6 — The Mice

Summary: In which our heroine wins the battle but loses the war

Chapter 6 of 7 on AO3

“The way you changed my life

No, no, they can’t take that away from me”

-They Can’t Take That Away from Me, Fred Astaire

After the excitement of the morning passed, Sidney grumbled until they returned to the table. Still shaken by whatever Arthur said on their brief phone call, Killian declined to join them and returned to their room. No doubt to dream up a make-believe pregnancy for her. Most probably twins this time.

“I thought you told me we would have smoked salmon for our bagels,” the man complained to Guin, face upset as if the plentiful choices offered on their breakfast buffet were insufficient.

“I’m sorry, dear. I know it’s your favorite, so I made sure it was on the menu I gave to our chef,” she murmured coaxingly. Looking at the butler who was filling Arthur’s coffee cup, she asked, “What happened to the salmon?”

“There was a mistake, ma’am. It was left out of the last delivery, and since the phones have been out all morning, we couldn’t contact the market. I’ve sent one of the girls into town to buy some, so we will have it tomorrow morning. If the gentleman prefers, we can prepare a plate for him this afternoon.”

“Nonsense,” she replied. “The phones are in perfect working order. We just made a call to Europe to check on the Baron’s daughter.”

“No, ma’am, only the internal phone system is working. An accident took out the lines last night.”

Emma reached over and grabbed Arthur’s hand under the table as they shared an uneasy look when the other three people at the table all glanced at her with questions in their eyes. Lance broke the silence. “I don’t understand…”

“I’m afraid he’s right. I wasn’t on the phone with my mother-in-law. In fact, I don’t— No, I don’t want to burden you with my problems,” she said haltingly, her mind racing with ways to get out of this mess. The words tumbled from her mouth so quickly she didn’t have a chance to think through the consequences, which seemed to be the way she operated these days.

“Oh, please, you can’t stop now. This little mystery is the only thing distracting me from my lack of fish,” Sidney countered. He was studying the wide variety of fruit compotes and toppings for his pancakes and sounded desolate. “Please.”

“Well, let’s just say the Baron’s family has a touch of eccentricity,” she continued with a grimace. She had their rapt attention; even Sidney abandoned his food and gawked at her. “My first hint was at the wedding. I was opening the gifts, and his grandfather gave us a broken compass covered in Thousand Island dressing.”

“Yes,” Arthur broke in, determined to help. “Now I remember hearing there was a streak of madness in the family. His father was known as the Mad Baron of Cambridge. He liked to give people roller skates with missing laces instead of flowers.”

“The truth is…we don’t have a daughter.”

“Oh, this is much more delicious than breakfast,” Sidney gushed, pushing his plate away and moving to the seat across from her. “Tell us more.”

“I don’t want you to think bad of him. Most of the time, he’s lucid and the sweetest man in the world. That’s the man I fell in love with. But when he’s having one of his episodes, like this morning, he can get quite aggressive if confronted. It’s best to go along with whatever he’s saying. It always starts when he first wakes as if he can’t shake some odd dream in his mind,” she grabbed her napkin and dabbed at fake tears. “There was one time about six months ago he woke up convinced he was Captain Hook. He wore eyeliner for weeks and refused to use his left hand. When I tried to make him see reason, he insisted I call him Captain and tried to have me arrested as a mutineer.”

“You poor thing,” Guin said, genuine sympathy in her expression. “I wondered why you called him that. I thought perhaps he served in the Navy.”

“And you’ve stayed with him all these years?” Lance’s gaze, which was always admiring, held a new respect for her now. It didn’t make her feel any better. “You’re wonderful.”

“Hmm, yes, absolutely amazing,” Arthur murmured under his breath. The smirk was back, and she could tell he was enjoying her web of lies. At least someone was. “Is there some medication he can take? Perhaps you should have him committed.”

“No, I would never. I promised to stay with Killian in good times and bad. It will pass eventually. It always does,” she bit out, kicking him under the table. Before anything else could be said, she heard the Captain whistling as he practically skipped out of the house toward them dressed in the sky blue scrubs of a surgeon. The color made his eyes even more beautiful, and the tiniest smattering of hair visible above the v-neck of the shirt did things to her heart.

“Arthur, Guinevere, thank you for the hospitality, but we really must be going. I have to get back for my shift at the hospital.” Everyone jumped at the pronouncement, exchanging loaded glances and trying to figure out what to say or do next.

Guin smiled at him shakily and in a calm voice asked, “The hospital, Baron?”

“Not a baron, I’m afraid. And this woman isn’t a baroness. You notice I didn’t say my wife because she isn’t that either,” Killian informed them as he stopped by her chair and reached down to place a hand on her shoulder.

“Killian, you don’t mean that,” Emma responded. She would have laughed at his look of confusion at the lack of reaction to his revelation if she wasn’t so sure it would come back to bite her in the ass.

With an admonishing look, Lance said, “See here, Baron, there’s no need to insult the woman who has stayed by you through thick and thin.”

“Thick and thin? We met five nights ago, and she couldn’t wait to be rid of me. She’s an imposter. And I’m a doctor who has real things to do in the real world. Come on, Swan, let’s leave these lovely people to their breakfast.”

“Oh, I get it. You think she’s Elizabeth Swan from Pirates of the Caribbean.” Sidney snapped his fingers as if all the pieces had fallen into place.

“What? No, I think she’s a bounty hunter and the most impossible woman I’ve ever met,” Killian argued, determined to make them see the truth. The more he spoke, the more their faces cleared of all emotion like they were afraid a smile or frown would push him further into his delusions. He pulled her from the chair gently, and since she felt like pond scum for the lies she told, she let his arms circle her waist. As an added benefit she didn’t deserve, the position allowed her nose to be tickled by the chest hair so temptingly on display.

“Maybe she’s a mutineer,” Arthur offered.

Looking at the group, Killian shook his head in disbelief. “I think you’re all crazy.”

“Yes, that must be it,” Guin said soothingly. “Why don’t you have some breakfast, Baron?”

“I’m not sure how I can be more clear. I’m not a baron. We’re not married. We met in the middle of the road a few nights ago, and I pretended to be her Uber driver so I could give her a ride to a strip club. It turned into the best night of my life.”

Undeterred, Guin patted his arm, which was still wrapped tightly around her. “What a lovely courtship you’ve had. Now, let’s get you something to eat. Do you prefer coffee or tea to drink?”

“Are you not listening to a word I’m saying? We’re fakes! We haven’t known each other for more than a week. She twisted me around her little finger in two minutes. As infuriating as she is, I fell in love with her smile. The sound of her laugh makes my blood pump faster, and when she talks about not believing in love, it makes me want to prove to her that it exists every day for the rest of our lives.”

She was fading, her will to stick it out with Arthur and give him a happy ending melting in the heat of Killian’s honeyed words. His genuine concern at how nonchalantly they were accepting his confession should have been funny, but all she could think about was how he said ‘the rest of our lives.’

Like he meant it.

“Well, fakes or not, I’m still hungry,” Sidney answered, trying his best in the face of impossible odds. “Maybe your patients could wait a few hours until the salmon arrives. It’s quite good.”

“Bloody hell, this is a madhouse. Come on, Emma, enough is enough. Let’s go,” he urged her again. Taking the napkin from her hand, he threw it on the table and switched his grip to gently hold her upper arm and guide her away from the group.

They were immediately halted by Lance, thunder in his expression and lightning in his eyes. “She’s not going anywhere with you, Baron. We know all about your illness. She won’t be safe.”

“My illness?” Understanding dawned on his face and his head tilted back like he was searching the morning sky for answers. With a wry chuckle, he sighed. “Bravo, Swan. You told them I’m crazy. And I played right into it, didn’t I? Because I’ve been acting crazy, a man driven out of his mind at the sight of his most cherished dream waltzing away from him like he was nothing. Like everything he felt was nothing as far as she was concerned.”

She choked up at the bitter twist of his mouth. He was so brave, declaring his feelings in front of everyone, even convinced she would reject him again. Was it any wonder she had fallen head over heels for him?

And what did she do? She lied. She tricked. She ran. Then she rinsed and repeated.

“Captain,” she whispered, her hand moving to cradle his face when a sickening crack was heard and he crumpled at her feet.

Behind him, looking proud of himself, Sidney was still holding a pan aloft like he thought Killian might jump to his feet and demand a second round. Fear flooded her and she dropped to her knees to cradle his head in her lap. Helplessness, her hands fluttered over his body, her mind trying to sort out the impossible situation that was entirely her fault. “Why the hell did you do that?”

“He looked homicidal.”

Shaking him gently, she begged, “Killian…Killian, come back to me. Don’t leave me here alone.”

“You aren’t alone, sweetheart,” Lance promised, trying to move her away.

She swatted at his hands and refused to leave. The movement caused Killian’s head to lull to the side, and she saw a smear of red dripping from his hairline. “Someone call 911. He’s bleeding!”

Sidney glanced down at them with a mildly alarmed look and then at the weapon he still held. He ran his finger across the bottom and, with some relief, announced, “That’s not blood. It’s raspberry compote.”

—

Arthur’s personal physician made a house call to attend to the victim. Of course, the woman knew Killian Jones, MD, who was apparently the Director of Pediatric Oncology at Storybrooke General and one of the foremost experts in his field.

He was a saint in addition to being her Captain.

He deserved so much more than a lost girl who was too scared to know a good thing when it stopped on the side of the road to save her.

“This couldn’t have worked out better, my dear,” Arthur commented with an eyebrow wiggle. “Lance is beside himself. He just announced he plans to hire a divorce attorney this very afternoon. Run along. I’ll make sure the good doctor makes it back to town safely. I’ll even throw a couple thousand his way for his performance.”

“Shut up, Arthur. This is terrible. An innocent man got hurt, and it’s all our fault. My fault,” she corrected with a whisper, running her hand softly through Killian’s hair. He regained consciousness as the doctor checked him out but fell asleep while she assured them no permanent damage was done. Replacing the ice pack against the goose egg forming on the side of his head, she silently pleaded with him to wake up so she could grovel properly and beg for forgiveness.

“He seems quite taken with you.”

“Maybe he’s crazy after all,” she joked, but her heart wasn’t really in it. She doubted she would find anything funny until she saw his electric blue eyes again. “Can you leave us alone? I want to be able to explain when he comes to.”

“Of course, just call if you need anything.” He gave her a probing stare as if trying to decide whether to say something else before he left.

When she heard the door click shut, she leaned over and brushed a soft kiss across his lips. “I’m sorry. For running. For lying. For putting you in a situation where you got knocked out. I know that’s not nearly enough, but I am.”

“It’s a start,” he groaned as her hushed tone drew him from sleep, one hand moving to cover hers where it held the ice to his head and the other reaching out to play with the ends of her hair. “What happened?”

“I happened. This is why we don’t work, Captain. I’ve brought you nothing but pain and suffering since the moment we met.”

“I didn’t figure you for the melodramatic type, Swan. We had some good times before this farce began,” he reminded her as he shifted into more of a sitting position. “Are you ready to admit there’s something between us, or do I need to jump back into the fray and take a punch bowl to the face?”

“I never denied there was something between us, just that it was a good idea. I believe a raspberry-flavored concussion proves my point perfectly.”

His hand drifted to her cheek, calloused fingers glancing over soft skin. She wanted to look away from his intense gaze, but he tenderly grabbed her chin and held her in place. “Love, come away with me. It doesn’t have to be forever; we can sort that part out later. I’m simply asking for your company now, to give us a chance before you decide against it.”

“I want to, Captain. I want the carrot and everything else behind Door Number One,” she murmured with a watery chuckle. His gentle caresses grew hotter and more insistent. Finally he pulled her to him, her body half-covering his, as he claimed her mouth in the kind of scorching kiss that would burn through her memory forever.

She had nothing to offer him, and she had a long way to go before she would be worthy of this kind of love. Unconditional. All-encompassing. The kind she didn’t even know existed until he rescued her.

“I sense a but coming…”

“But—“

With a sad smile, he interrupted her. “On second thought, don’t. Please. I can’t bear to hear you say the words. To watch you run one more time. Let’s call it a day now so we can remember it fondly in the years to come.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Not as sorry as I am.” He tapped her nose lightly with his fingertip, observing the tears in her eyes as she fought to keep them from falling. Giving her a bittersweet grimace, he added, “Just promise you’ll take care of yourself, Swan. No more skipping meals. No more pretending to be anyone other than the amazing woman you are.”

The tears that were a threat until then slipped past her defenses, leaving trails down her face. He swiped at them and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

Then he was gone.

Arthur found her later in the exact same place, not having the energy to move. He slipped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a hug. “This is the last time you’ll ever have to live this day, my dear.”

She knew he was trying to make her feel better, but the knowledge he was wrong caused her to feel light-headed as she turned into his embrace. She would never have to say goodbye to Killian again, but she knew she would relive it over and over until the day she died.

—

He approached her on the shoreline as she watched the blue waters of the Atlantic crash against the rocky beach forming one side of Arthur’s estate. Heat lightning flashed in the distance; the far-off storm robbed of its noise and violence when viewed from the calm of land. Emma knew it was only a matter of time until he sought her out. He was a smart man, a gambler and a rogue, so why not press his advantage?

“You disappeared on me after the baron left.” Lance never referred to him as her husband, always ‘the baron.’ She wasn’t sure if it was his way of skirting the immorality of his pursuit or simply to rob the other man of any claim on her, but it was starting to piss her off. Which was silly considering he wasn’t really her husband. Or a baron.

“He told me he was filing for divorce on his way out. That he hoped you found happiness but had come to realize it wasn’t going to be with him.”

She had yet to look at Lance, but she felt her heart break a little at the scene he painted. It was just like the Captain to try to help her all the way to the bitter end. She supposed he simply couldn’t stop himself. Breathing in the warm salty air, she wanted to let it fill her lungs and sweep out the misery that had taken hold in the core of her.

She was an idiot. She had let someone who had never loved her, never really even cared about her, twist her into someone who would do the same thing to a man who was perfect in every way. If she hadn’t already sworn to get even with Neal Cassidy, this would have driven her to it.

She was damaged now, unfit for human company, clinging to a sham because it was easier than facing the fact she made the biggest mistake of her life. Only this time, there was no boogeyman in the form of a cheating, lying ex to blame. She did this to herself.

But she didn’t have to double down on it.

With a deep sigh, Lance dropped on the sand next to her. He was more casual than she had ever seen him, and somehow it made him more approachable. Barefoot and with his pants legs were rolled up to mid-calf in a nod to the tide, he observed, “He was wrong, wasn’t he? You still love him.”

“Yes,” she admitted, staring at the horizon.

“And you aren’t a baroness…”

“No,” she confirmed, this time chancing a sidelong glance at him. “Everything he said was true. I’ve been here under false pretenses.”

“To come between Guin and me. It has the smell of an Arthur scheme all over it,” he explained with a wry grin. “Well, I can’t say I didn’t deserve it. I never intended for it to go this far, but once it started, we kept getting deeper and deeper until I couldn’t see a way out. And then I didn’t want to. I love her, I probably always will, but she’s not mine. You helped me realize that. A gorgeous wake-up call designed to turn my head and steal my heart. Losing you is my penance. One I can’t regret because I have a feeling you saved several lives by playing along.”

“You’ll be back in the saddle again soon, I’m sure, and the women of the world will be better for it. Do yourself a favor next time, though. Choose an available woman, and once you find her, don’t let her go. Don’t make the same mistake I did.”

“What are you going to do now?”

“Pick up where I left off, I suppose. I have some debts that still need to be paid and a fugitive to bring to justice. Maybe if I keep busy enough, keep moving, this will all fade and seem like some fever-induced dream.”

“I meant, what are you going to do about Jones?”

“I think I’ve done enough already. The best thing I can do for Killian now is to stay away.”

“For someone so smart about other people, you have a rather glaring blind spot when it comes to your own life. A mistake is only a mistake if you keep making it. You know where to find him, you know he wants you to, the only thing stopping you is fear.”

“Fear is enough, Lance.”

“You know what fear has gotten me: Absolutely nothing. I was afraid to put myself out there, so I only got involved with women who I knew would leave me before the whole thing even started. It’s hard to mourn the loss of a relationship that never stood a chance to begin with. It cost me my best friend and two women I care about. You’re better than that, Emma, and doesn’t he deserve the best version of you? But more importantly, don’t you?”

@teamhook @kmomof4 @jrob64 @stahlop @motherkatereloyshipper @xarandomdreamx @xsajx @klynn-stormz

[6rookie-writer0110]

Who the hell is Bruce Springsteen

Archie Andrews x Male Reader

Request - How about a fluff story of Archie and his bf during a day at home

Last night you and Archie stayed up all night, playing video games. You and Archie slept all morning and woke up in the afternoon. He kissed your cheek and he snuggled on you.

”I like this,” You said softly.

”I like it too. You move a lot” Archie mumbled but you heard him.

”I don't move a lot. Plus you take up most of the blanket” You said.

You and Archie laughed.

”That’s a lie, Y/N. You hog the blanket and I barely have any for myself” Archie said.

You and Archie went back and forth about who hogs the blanket.

Much later, you and Archie go downstairs to the kitchen. You and Archie are in the mood for waffles, but you two don't know how to make it. You and Archie Google easy recipes on how to make waffles. The first waffles didn't come out right, you and Archie tried again. You and Archie made a lot of waffles and started to eat them.

----

Later, Archie did teach you how to fight. He would show you how to punch, how to hot a punching bag and how to block. You and Archie worked out for a while, then showered.

You and Archie start gaming online and play against Fangs, Kevin, Jughead, and Sweet Pea. For hours you and Archie played with the others. While playing, everyone wanted a rematch, and Fangs have the most winning streak and he became cocky.

You got bored playing video games. In the living room, Archie started teaching you how to play the guitar.

”Don’t stiff your fingers” Archie said.

”I’m not to. This is kinda fun even I can't make a melody” You said.

”You have to get used to it. Just keep trying, that's all. I did write new songs” Archie said.

”Are you going to show me?” You asked.

Archie smiled and he kissed you.

”Yeah, wait here,” Archie said.

Archie went upstairs grabbed his notebook then went back downstairs. He showed you the new songs, he has been working on. He did sing one of his new songs to you. It made you smile and he kissed you.

✬ ✯ ✫ ✬

You and Archie watched a movie, but it was boring. The movie made you and Archie fall asleep on the couch. Archie is lying on the couch and you have your head on his chest and his arm around you. The blanket is on you and Archie, you snuggled on him.

Much later, you and Archie woke up. Went to the kitchen and looked around, to figure out what to eat for dinner.

”Pizza or tacos?” You asked.

You and Archie start to think again.

”Pizza. I had tacos two weeks ago. What about you?” Archie said.

He wrapped his arms around you, you touch his hair

”Pizza it is. And we don't have taco shells” You said.

You and Archie smiled. You and Archie started to stretch the dough by hand. You and Archie did make it a mess in the kitchen but didn't notice it. Archie did put a lot of cheese on the pizza, then he helped you cut the pepperoni. Later, after the pizza is done cooking in the oven, Archie forgot to protect his hand and he got burned.

”You could have used a rag or something,” You said.

”I forgot,” Archie said.

He put his hand under cold water. While eating pizza, you and Archie debated on a few topics. You and Archie had to agree to disagree and kept eating pizza.

----

Your shoulders are feeling sore from the boxing lessons, Archie starts to massage your shoulders. Later, you and Archie started to make out on the bed.

Later, you and Archie start to eat ice cream while watching the office. Then Archie showed you his new DC Comics posters and comic books. Fangs called and told you and Archie to get online to play again. Everyone showed up and everyone wants to break Fangs’ winning streak.

[my-bated-breath]

Do you think Aang and Katara would still end up together if Katara killed her mother’s killer? How would that affect their relationship?

Hey anon! Sorry it took me a while to answer your question, but the truth is that there is no clear trajectory regarding Kata/ang in this situation, especially when we take into account that Kata/ang in the show canon was abrupt and significantly underdeveloped. More specifically on Kata/ang, both Katara and Aang’s arcs were twisted to accommodate for their endgame romance, but while Katara’s arc reaches its culmination by the end of the Final Agni Kai, Aang’s character had become inconsistent in its direction throughout all of season 3.

As such, two conflicting outcomes can result from this hypothetical scenario — one outcome which upholds Aang’s flaws and stagnated growth, or another outcome which forces Aang into growing, accepting, and understanding, as was the original intent behind his character.

From a broader context, Aang’s entire journey since he woke up in the iceberg has been about him reconciling his airbender and Avatar identity, and by the end of season 2 when he is with the guru, Aang is on the cusp of fully accepting his Avatar responsibilities, of letting go of his selfish attachments (or in other words, his blinding biases).

Except Aang cannot let go as he hoped he would be able to. Because his attachment to Katara is selfish, but beyond that his attachment to Katara is a replacement for his attachment to the Air Nomads — and it draws him away from his duties as the Avatar, causing him to embrace an ideal he does not comprehend. After all, the Air Nomads were not perfectly pacifistic either.

Still, just as Aang refuses to recognize the complexity in the Air Nomads’ legacies, dismissing what he may deem as an act of violence, Aang refuses to recognize the complexity to Katara’s rage and compassion, to her violent and protective nature. In my meta “On Ideals and Idealization,” I elaborate on Aang’s idealization of Katara:

Aang loves Katara, yes, but he is in love with an idealized version of her. In his mind, he holds close the idea of a gentle Katara, a smiling Katara, a compassionate and all-loving Katara. Even though he has seen her darkest moments when she bloodbends Hama - arms bent in disjointed angles, fingers curled as if manipulating puppet strings -  it does not tarnish his image of her because, at this moment, she is not the persecutor, but the persecuted.

After her experience with Hama, Aang is there to comfort her and help her come to terms with the terrifying power she now possesses. With her face streaked with tears and eyes widened with horror, it is clear that this is a power that Katara does not want, that it has been thrust onto her against her own will.

The conclusion that Aang draws from this is that Katara’s inner darkness is a separate entity from her inner light, and he perceives this acquired part of her as a blemish on her inherent goodness. As such, in “the Southern Raiders,” when he witnesses how Katara’s anger and grief drive her to hunt down her mother’s killer, he equates Katara seeking closure to Katara succumbing to darkness, tainting her purity and compassion in the process.

Thus, given Aang’s reaction to Katara’s bloodbending, he may be inclined to love her in a piteous, nearly-obligatory manner. He’ll love her as the victim who lost sight and control and he’ll love her as a being of compassion and pacificity, but nothing more. Just like in the Southern Raiders, he may magnanimously grant Katara his forgiveness and his continued love even when she never asked for it. And in the end, Aang and Katara will kiss on the balcony of Iroh’s tea shop, only this time it’s not only “the hero winning the girl,” but “the bright and cheerful boy fixing the broken girl” as well.

This is the ending where Aang clings onto idealization even when it renders him a hypocrite, in the same way he is a hypocrite for shouting at his friends for pushing him to kill Ozai when it is implied he killed thousands at sea in the Siege at the North Pole.

This is the ending where he does not grow.

Note: Aang retreating into a ball of earth as a narrative parallel to the beginning of the series when he was encased in a ball of ice would have been much more powerful if only Aang entered the Avatar State through character growth rather than by the power of the Pointy Rock of Destiny (TM).

Now, let’s consider an ending where Aang’s perspective broadens rather than narrows and where Aang unroots himself from the past, pulling free from stagnance. Let’s consider a hypothetical scenario in which Aang finds out Katara killed Yon Rha. How may he react?

He may not be able to at first, too torn between his belief that Katara only uses violence as a last resort and the reality that Katara uses violence as a means of agency as well. Revenge corrupts; it is a stain that cannot be washed away. There is no reconciling Katara’s previous compassionate and loving nature with this dark path she has now chosen.

Except this is Katara he’s talking about, Katara who he loves and gave up the Avatar State for. Surely there’s a way to save her, right? Yes, just as Aang told Katara before she left, forgiveness is the answer. And while Katara may not have chosen forgiveness in the end, Aang can guide her by example.

The next day, he approaches her with the offer to exempt her from her wrongdoings.

Katara, tired and mournful, looks down at Aang.

“What was so wrong about what I did?”

Inside she is hurting. There is truth to what Aang said, that revenge is poisonous both to the victim and the perpetrator, but it is not poisonous for the reasons he thinks it is. As George Orwell writes in his essay, “revenge is an act which you want to commit when you are powerless and because you are powerless: as soon as the sense of impotence is removed, the desire evaporates also” (Revenge is Sour). There’s no doubt that Yon Rha was despicable, and there’s only a little doubt in saying that his punishment should fit his crime — the only regret Katara may have here is that killing Yon Rha is a meaningless act, for she has already gained power over him in every meaning of the word. Revenge is only a gateway to senseless violence and hatred; it is not a slope from which there is no recovery, and given Katara’s emotional intelligence, she likely has or will recognize this. Although she may feel regret, she needs no one’s forgiveness.

Aang is shocked. “But violence is never the answer,” he stands by, he pleads by. His voice grows quieter. “You know that… you knew that, didn’t you?”

Katara answers him, but it’s all a blur. She says something about agency, protection, and justice. He remembers something about that too, about the fury that burned in her eyes when she declared, “I will never, ever, turn my back on the people who need me!” Then there was the hostility simmering in her glare towards Zuko, the way she muttered that she didn’t trust him, not when he could still hurt them — hurt Aang — again. 

Because Katara’s anger and compassion do not simply split themselves into two identities. Instead, they coexist and coalesce into one. They drive each other; they feed into each other; they are two sides of the same coin.

Excerpt from my meta Rage, Compassion, and the Bridge in Between

The beloved ideal of Katara — the one that he thought was on the verge of being tainted, the one that never existed — shatters. But just because it’s broken doesn’t mean Aang doesn’t want to fix it. So in the days leading up to Sozin’s Comet, he tries to pick up the fragments to the Katara-he-knew and piece them together again, all the while avoiding Katara’s mournful (yet resolved) stare. He ignores the way Zuko and Katara share glances with a heaviness as if they were the only two people in the world, full of some significance he cannot grasp. Still, it haunts him like the way Zuko’s touch lingers on Katara’s shoulder or Katara’s hand brushes Zuko’s briefly whenever they don’t think anyone’s looking, reflecting a togetherness escaping loneliness.

But there’s no answer that arrives quick enough to save Aang from his doubt and confusion. All too soon, Sozin’s Comet is upon them, and Aang wanders to another world on the lion turtle's back — but this time when he listens to the past Avatars’ advice, his perspective undergoes a paradigm shift.

They are right. The Air Nomads that he prioritized, that blinded him to his duties — they do not exist. Their love is still there, pure and human but not all-encompassing, tucked in the corner of his heart. And Katara was the same. She was and is not all-loving or all-compassionate or all-anything, really, because she is more human than that.

This time Katara’s image shatters again. But Aang does not follow the falling pieces to the ground, desperate to find them and force them together again. No, he sees past the remains and sees Katara for who she is. For who she wants to be. For who she can be (around someone else), when she’s not compelled to take on the caretaker role just for him.

(And he thought he was so generous, offering to forgive him. But it was never his forgiveness to give in the first place.)

Aang lets go of his last attachment.

The last airbender lives on, but so does the Avatar.

[eclecticstarlightconnoisseur]

VISIONS IN THE SNOW

Good Evening All! I have a new one-shot that was inspired by the horrific weather that recently swept across the U.S. It caused so much grief, suffering to so many people. I hope this would bring a smile to some faces. This was written with one particular person in mind (and you know who you are) and I’m glad you like it.

Thanks as always to @scubalass for the read through. Your suggestions were, as always, spot on. It made the final story so much better.

Status of Edinburgh to Boston: There is progress but it is painfully slow. There are two characters that are essential to this chapter whose voice I do not hear as well as I do Jamie and Claire. I write something, then I delete it and I do the same thing over and over. We will come to an understanding at some point so dinna fash. There will be A/N at the end to explain words or terms.

Without further delay I give you Visions in the Snow.

Here goes nothing:

VISIONS IN THE SNOW

February 1968  - Boston

The responsibility for hosting this week’s poker game fell to Joe Abernathy.  He took his duties in this regard very seriously. It was the way the surgeons decompressed after a week of stressful surgical procedures and this week was no exception. 

“It must have been a full moon,” he thought. Motor vehicle accidents, stabbings, gunshot wounds, volvulus, a ruptured esophagus, the works. It was during these times that he dearly missed his friend. Claire. He cast his glance over to the card table set with one extra place, Claire’s place. On the seat was her green visor that she wore when she played poker with the boys. It sat in repose like a memorial to a fallen comrade.

Silly thing! She believed wearing it masked her glass face.  Nothing could be further from the truth, but none of her colleagues had the heart to tell her. They all knew what Claire Randall was thinking. So much so, they often let her win which caused her to think she was good at playing poker.

He glanced around the room and saw that everything was in readiness for the evening. The sideboard groaned beneath the bounty of food, snacks, and brews.  

Outside, the wind blew fiercely rattling the windows drawing his attention. Joe looked out the window watching the two front trees bowing to the brute force of nature. Their skeletal fingers scraped at the roof almost as if trying to gain entry. It had been snowing for the last six hours with no sign of it letting up. He had considered canceling the game but a majority of his colleagues soundly vetoed that idea. Only Callahan and Peterson dissented. Callahan’s wife would kill him if he left her alone to deal with their six small ones while he went to play poker. Peterson lived thirty miles away. The remaining players all lived a short walking distance from his home, on Doctors Row. It was so-called because many of the physicians who worked at the hospital lived on the same street.  These surgeons were gambling men betting they had enough time for some comradery, hands, and beers before the brunt of the storm arrived.   

For a Boston snowstorm, it hadn’t accumulated very much. Yet. Regardless, it would not hamper these hardened surgeons accustomed to driving through Boston’s worst to get to the hospital. Without warning, the storm picked up intensity driving the snow hard enough to erase the landscape before him. Amid the squall, a hazy light glowed like the high beams of headlights in the snow. A wraithlike figure emerged from its center. Joe wasn’t able to make out any of its features. Man? Woman? He wasn’t sure. But one thing was for sure, it was headed directly toward his house. 

Joe leaned closer trying to see if the person was in distress as they were caught out in the snow. Maybe they had abandoned their car and were seeking help.  His warm breath met the cold pane fogging it, wholly obscuring his view.  Using his shirt sleeve, he wiped away the condensation hoping to improve his ability to see. As the person drew closer, it became apparent that it was a young woman and her attire was totally inappropriate for the weather. She wore a long dress whose hem floated across the snow. It looked like a green and black plaid and a white scarf crossed her neck to cover her bosom. Her hair was dark, curly, piled high on her head, and tendrils framing her face. She looked a lot like… It couldn’t be, could it? She came closer. So close that he could see her eyes. Eyes the color of a fine whisky. Claire? Claire! How? She had left for Scotland, disappearing into the past, to find her true love.

Anxiety flowed through him. He needed to speak with the woman. He needed to know if it truly was Claire. Joe tried to open the window, but it wouldn’t budge. The frame had swollen from the moisture, he thought. He rapped on the window calling her name, but she paid no heed.

Claire was running and laughing bright and merry. Stopping suddenly, she turned and extended a hand into the haze. A man appeared laughing and chased after her. He was a big son of a bitch standing at least six feet four inches and as big as a brick…Well, he was big. He had a mop of red hair, but to simply say red would deny the richness of the color. It was a curly thick mosaic of cinnamon, auburn, gold, and cinnabar.  And his eyes were the deepest blue Joe had ever seen. The man was kitted out in traditional highland garb right down to the sword strapped to his side. Reaching her, the young man made a courtly bow. He straightened, then took her hand to bestow a kiss. A moment later, he lifted and spun her around. She tossed her head back and peals of joyous laughter rang through the air. He set her down gently settling his hands on the swell of her hips. His eyes danced with love as he lowered his head to kiss her most thoroughly. Joe felt his cheeks burn as he watched such intimacy. 

Time advanced in front of him. He became witness to a lifetime, to a marriage, to the bonds of love that could not be broken. The vision changed from the blush of first love through to a life fully lived.  He wept at their trials, tribulations, and heartbreak. And he reveled in their accomplishments, triumphs, and joys. But through all their hardships, and there were many, their love for each other never wavered, never changed. 

The final event showed the couple had aged. The woman, Claire, had streaks of grey in her hair while the man’s hair had lightened. They stood atop a ridge overlooking some land. The man had his arm securely around her waist pulling her protectively close to him. Claire stood on her tiptoes wrapping her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a fiery kiss. She nodded her head and started to pull him toward a cabin. He scooped her up and carried her across the threshold kicking the door shut. 

As the vision faded back into the vapor as a voice called out, “I am happy Joe. I found my Jamie.”

Resting his head against the cold pane of glass provided a sense of comfort to his unsettled mind and spirit. Uncertainty gripped him as he grappled to understand what happened. Had this been a dream? Or a hallucination? Or had the fabric of time somehow been rent apart? He shook himself, much like a dog dispelling the rain from its coat, hoping to lift his state of bewilderment. 

Psssst, pssst, ssssssss! The homely sound of the radiator hissing brought him back to himself and away from his ruminations.

Mercilessly, the wind blew about the house ferociously shaking the windowpanes in their frames then suddenly died away. Out of curiosity, Joe tried to open the window. This time it slid open with ease. The blinding snow stopped returning to light flurries. As he turned to walk away from the window, he noticed the clock on the mantel. It was one minute later than when he last looked at it. “Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ,” he muttered.

Joe walked over to Claire’s chair and picked up the visor cradling it to his chest,  “Wherever you are Claire, I’m glad you’re happy and you found your Jamie. Jamie, if you can hear me, take good care of our girl.”

With that, the doorbell rang and Joe went to greet his guests.

                                                        *************

Claire woke with a start bringing Jamie to instant alertness. He grabbed the pistol he kept by his bedside in preparation for any threat. Seeing none, he turned to look at Claire. She looked like she had seen a ghost.

“Sassenach, what’s amiss? Are ye alright?”

“I dreamt...I dreamt I was back in Boston going to play poker with the other surgeons. It was our regular night to play. The game was at Joe’s house and there was this blizzard.”

“Poker? What kind of game do ye play with a poker?” he was afraid to ask. Claire had told him so many peculiar stories about her time that he thought this would be another one. The only poker he knew about was the kind used in a fireplace.

“It’s a card game. I was rather good at it too. Someday I’ll have to teach you.” Claire snuggled up against Jamie seeking his heat, his comfort. She yawned greatly, “Except I will miss my green visor.”

 “A vi-zor?” All he could envision was a knight’s helmet with a visor covering the eyes and face.

“It’s a sort of hat with a green brim. It shades your eyes and some of your face. People use it to hide their facial expressions when they bluff at cards.”

Jamie looked at her as if she were a bit daft. He knew nothing could hide her thoughts on that glass face. He tucked her head under his chin, “Come, Sassenach, rest yer head, aye? I think ye had a bit of the nightmare. I’ll keep ye warm and safe.” He lowered his head placing a kiss on the top of her head.

Jamie closed his eyes and thought about the black man he had seen in his dreams too. “Aye, dinna fash, Joe. I’ll care for her with my life,” he whispered just before lapsing into sleep.

A/N:

VOLVULUS: A volvulus occurs when part of the colon or intestine twists. The twisting causes bowel obstructions that may cut off the blood supply to areas of the bowels. This can cause the bowel to die or left untreated the person can die.

RENT: This involves a story. When I was in catechism class the teacher was telling the story of Christ’s trial before the Pharisees. When Jesus was condemned one of the Pharisees was said to have rent his garment. You say that to a bunch of kids and they start to giggle. They wanted to know who he rented his clothes to and for how much. So the teacher explained that to rent something meant to tear it apart violently. I fell in love with the word’s usage and I never thought I would get to use it in this way. But I did!

And poor Jamie, Claire’s stories always leave his surprised, confused, shocked among other feelings.

The truth behind this story was that it was supposed to be smutty. Instead, it evolved into this. It was supposed to happen that the Ridge was also snowed-in. Claire was bored with playing chess with Jamie and wanted to play something else. She wanted to teach him strip poker. So I left myself an opening if I chose to do a second chapter. But I have to finish E2B first.

I hope you liked this and it brought a smile to your face.

You can find me on AO3. There I am LadyJane518.

Thanks for reading!

[bloededhoine]

world building cause twn doesn't part 7: the first northern war

this is actually the part that made me want to start this series! but a wise idiot told me that none of it would make any sense without a bit of exposition. well, 6 parts later, let's go!

colour code cause i fucking love colour codes - already happened/introduced, probably s2, important background info, stuff that might be in the prequel, extras

masterpost

background

this war takes place entirely in ciri's timeline in twn, which is actually one of the most logical thing the showrunner's did

basically, nilfgaard is BIG into expanding and conquering new territories, cause sapkowski was actually kind of a comrade

in 1263, emhyr var emreis, the emperor of nilfgaard, turned his focus north, to the lovely kingdom of cintra. since nilfgaard already controlled all areas south of cintra, it was not at all difficult for them to get there

you probably remember this angular looking gentleman as cahir mawr dyffryn aep ceallach, a nilfgaardian vicovarian officer. he is SUPER important for twn, so here's what you need to know:

cahir's family is incredibly well established, even though they aren't "real" nilfgaardians. cahir's great aunt is even one of emhyr's favourite mages.

he is also a Lot younger than the show made him, like i think he's maybe 18, but he could be as young as 16. this is a literal child, but a very smart child, so emhyr tasked him specifically with capturing the cintrian princess, cirilla, and bringing her back to nilfgaard

invasion of cintra

the red line on the left is the nilfgaardian army's path from alba to the marnadal stairs, the only pass from the south to cintra. they were led by menno coehoorn, but we don't see him in twn (yet! he is super important for a ton of major battles).

the cintran army, led by queen calanthe and her bisexual trophy husband eist tuirseach, was waiting for them at the red star on the map on the right. unfortunately, eist was shot through the eye and killed, only a small group of survivors were able to escape

this group, including calanthe herself, were able to make it back to the capital (shown by the red line on the right) and warn the others that nilfgaard was coming

but, since calanthe had sent all her soldiers to the marnadal pass, there was no one left to defend the city and basically everyone was either killed or imprisoned, with queen calanthe committing suicide

pro tip: if a woman in the witcher makes a big mistake, such as leaving your capital entirely open to attack, and then commits suicide after having an emotional moment with her chosen daughter, something big is about to happen

BUT... princess cirilla fiona elen riannon, lion cub of cintra, heiress to inis ard skellig and inis an skellig, carrier of the hen ichaer, and all around badass, managed to escape with a small escort *whoah!*

by some weird coincidence (or destiny??), this escort ran right into cahir and his group. a scuffle ensued, with the only survivors being cahir and ciri

now, cahir's plan was already a little off the rails, so he just grabbed a terrified and screeching ciri and started running. lucky for him, she fainted pretty quickly

cahir disguised himself and (still unconscious) ciri with mud and shit and tried to join a refugee group, but he felt that this was too risky and decided to take ciri and book it (again)

when ciri woke up, cahir tried to calm her down, but since they didn't speak the same language this was pretty unsuccessful. like, imagine being 10 year old child and waking up covered in dirt with some random slightly-older-child speaking gibberish.

eventually, they both fell asleep, but ciri was able to run while cahir was sleeping. cahir moped back to nilfgaard, and was imprisoned for a year due to his spectacular performance.

obviously, this is very different from the show, but i need everyone to know how perfect my SON is

sodden

obviously, cintra was a massive victory for emhyr (aside from the missing heir to the kingdom he conquered).

next, coehoorn and his armies marched (red line) to upper sodden (red star) and had another huge victory. they were planning on conquering lower sodden (for some reason it's geographically north of upper sodden?), and therefore all areas south of the yaruga

BUT... temeria, redania, kaedwen, aedirn and a shit ton of other allies, including 22 mages, were ready to fight at sodden hill (blue star)

of the people we've met in the witcher, a huge chunk of them were at sodden. seriously. yennefer, triss, vilgefortz, foltest, sabrina, tissaia, yarpen zigrin, and crach an craite were all fighting for the north

despite nilfgaard's huge winning streak, manpower, money, and superior weaponry, the north won both the battle and the war

aftermath

emhyr was not happy. at all. he didn't throw menno coehoorn in prison, but he did put him in time out in cintra

this also gave emhyr a pretty hefty vengeance against mages, especially yennefer, triss, sabrina, philippa, and enid.