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lordgrimwing · 4 months

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Friends And Family #06

Rain drummed against the roof in a steady rumble. Outside the old and wavy glass of the window panes, a summer storm drenched the land in sheets of rain. Grasses and brush not flattened by the downpour danced in the wind. The creaking of the trees couldn’t be heard over the wind and rain, and the heavy clouds forced the day into a premature dusk so forest was hardly visible beyond the yard.

Elros sat cross-legged on the rug next to Elrond and Celebrimbor, elbow on his knees and chin propped up on his hands. He disliked storms like this. He no longer had nightmares about the storm that swallowed his parents when storms raged outside, possibly because he couldn’t fall asleep with all the noise. At least the rain and wind were bad enough today to keep most everyone else inside too.

Elrond leaned his head against his shoulder and yawned. “I’m bored,” He murmured.

Celegorm sat in a chair next to the fire, taking advantage of the light it cast to whittle away at a block of hardwood that was starting to look like an animal. He nudged Amrod with his bare foot.

The redhead looked up from the peas he was shelling into a wide bowl. “No,” He said, knowing exactly what his older brother was conveying. “I’m doing the peas. If Mae and Pa survive this and make it back home, I’m not going to be the one he accuses of having idle hands, again.”

“Yeah, we’re busy.” Amras agreed after swallowing a mouthful of peas.

Celebrimbor elbowed Elrond. “Sheesh, not so loud next time. Are you trying to get us put to work? This is the longest I’ve sat down all week! Pa’s had me digging out a spot for the new kiln so much I think he’s decided I’m some kind of mole. I didn’t think that’s what Papaw meant when he said I could start working with him at the forge.”

He glanced furtively toward the kitchen where his father was sharpening and cleaning an assortment of knives, from heavy ones used to butcher animals to the tiny, curved blade Nerdanel used to unpick stitches (usually when it was time to unhem clothes as the three children grew up into their uncles’ hand-me-downs). He sent him scouring the house for an hour to find any lost knives that somebody forgot to return to their proper places. Luckily, Curufin gave no indication that he was listening to them.

Maglor walked out of his and Maedhros’ bedroom. His braids, done in two loose lines down either side of his head, were still damp from his dash to and from the barn to tie the doors and window shutters closed to prevent the wind from blowing them open. He'd changed to dry clothes that gave every indication that he planned to spend the rest of the day relaxing. He had the soaked shirt and pants draped over an arm. Dragging a chair over from the table, he joined his brothers by the fire.

“Ma wants those for supper.” He reminded Amras as he laid the clothes over the back of the chair to dry.

The redheads looked at each other.

“Shell faster.” Said the younger twin.

“Eat slower.” Suggested the other.

Maglor shook his head and took his fiddle and bow down from the mantle above the hearth. He looked down at the children on the rug, “What are you three doing?”

Elros shrugged.

“Nothing,” Elrond said.

Celebrimbor groaned. “You’re the worst,” He muttered, standing and mentally preparing to be put to work around the house.

“Well then,” Maglor continued. “Brimby, since you’re up, bring the music box out here. This kind of weather calls for some entertainment.”

Finding this task far less onerous than what he expected, Celebrimbor hurried off to do as bidden. Maglor leaned against the wall and began testing the tune of the old instrument. Elrond and Elros moved over to sit by his feet.

“Can I play the dulcimer?” Elros asked, perking up from the slump he’s been in since the clouds rolled in.

“Certainly,” The musician began sawing out a simple tune to warm up the fiddle and the audience.

Celebrimbor returned then with the box Maglor kept his collection of instruments in to avoid them getting lost or broken in the often boisterous home. He’d already claimed the pair of joined wooden spoons Curufin carved a few years ago to replace the pair ruined by one of Celegorm’s half-feral dogs after someone—Celebrimbor—forgot the instrument outside. He left the box in the middle of the half circle around the fireplace.

Elrond and Elros came over to claim their favorite instruments. While they were distracted, the youngest child stole Elrond’s spot closest to the warm bricks around the fire.

The kitchen door banged open and a sopping-wet Maedhros and Fëanor came in with an angry wail of rain-soaked wind. The eldest son’s thick hair was plastered to his face and back as though he’d gone swimming fully clothed. Their father didn’t look any better, summer linen shirt clinging to his arms and chest and clutching the satchel of tools in a white-knuckled grip.

Celegorm looked up from his whittling as they entered. Amrod and Amras kept their intense focus on the shrinking pile of peapods. Curufin paused sharpening long enough to glance over at the pair. Maglor lifted his bow in greeting, letting his young accompaniment take over for a few moments.

“How was it?” He asked.

“Wet,” His father answered laconically, dripping all the way to Nerdanel's and his room. The door closed with a bang behind him.

“That bad?” Maglor asked his older brother.

Maedhros nodded. “You know Pa.”

They were not prepared for this degree of downpour when they left to check the charms and sigils placed at important locations around the homestead and other areas and trails the family frequented. Nerdanel warned they could expect rain in the afternoon, but Fëanor was confident they would return well before that.

They had not. Several charms needed to be repaired, the feathers and string worn away by the weather and small, nibbling animals. Then Maedhros’ large gelding became oddly spooked by something hidden in a dark thicket. After investigating the spot and finding nothing out of the ordinary, Fëanor insisted on building a basic sign to keep foul presences away until he could craft a proper charm to block the beast from its newest foothold on the mountain. The rain came as Maedhros hung the twine and bone charm high in a tree. The horses made their displeasure with the turn of events clear on the ride back to the barn, the patriarch muttering with them.

Fëanor did not like getting wet.

His hair leaving a thin stream of water behind him, Maedhros sloshed across the main room to his bedroom to change. “I like how that’s sounding,” He added over his shoulder, nodding to the fiddle as he disappeared to get dry clothes.

“There’s more where it came from!” Maglor called after him before turning his attention back to the song. He tapped his foot to help the children keep time with him.

Amrod drummed his fingers on the bowl. Amras shelled peas in rhythm. Celegorm murmured his version of the lyrics as the wooden dog took shape in his hands.

Maedhros came back wearing only his damp underpants, wet boots held tightly in his hand and dripping clothes thrown over his other arm. Clearly having the same idea as Maglor, he tossed the clothes over the back of a chair and then carried the chair over to the fire by slipping his arm between the slats in the back. Celebrimbor scrambled aside to make room for him and almost dropped the musical spoons. The boots went on the hot bricks, though not so near the flames as to risk damage. In no hurry to leave the warmth of the fire or the companionship, he sat between Elros and Celegorm, long legs filling up the space as he crossed them.

The music picked up as they settled down. Celebrimbor caught the rhythm again after giving a few spoon taps at the wrong time. Elros leaned his shoulder against Maedhros’s side as he strummed the dulcimer’s strings and picked out an occasionally offkey accompaniment to the fiddle. The large elf smiled and wrapped an arm around him, careful not to bump the instrument with the end of his arm. He combed out small tangles from his hair with his fingers.

The music bounced along.

“Curu,” Celegorm called, having run out of his crude version of the song. He tossed the block of wood at his younger brother after he didn’t look up when called.

Curufin rubbed his head and shot the blond a mildly peeved expression.

“Get over here.”

Celegorm skillfully caught the rag his brother balled up and threw before leaving the knife sharpening behind. Tucking his knife into his breast pocket, he unfolded the oily fabric and laid it out on his knee. Smirking, he patted the knee and looked up at Curufin, inviting him to take a seat. Uninterested, Curufin slapped the back of his head where he kept his hair shorn close to the skin and leaned against the way instead, arms folded across his chest.

Celegorm put on a hurt look. Curufin threw the wooden dog at him. Amrod and Amras snorted. Celegorm ducked. The dog bounced across the floor, the noise the closest thing it would ever make to an actual bark.

To his eternal relief, Celebrimbor was too busy tapping his spoons on Elrond’s toes to see his uncle blow a kiss at his father. He finally stopped when Elrond kicked his hand and he dropped the spoons onto the bearskin rug.

“Ow,” He complained.

Elrond raised his eyebrows to question why the nine-year-old was surprised by the consequences of his actions. He might have said something too, but his mouth was occupied with his tin whistle.

He retrieved the musical spoons and settled down again into the rhythm. Soon, the uncles were all singing along to the song.

Suddenly, Amras jumped to his feet. He grabbed his twin’s hands and hauled him up to his feet too, pushing the bowls of peas out of the way with the tip of one shoe.

“Come on!” He exclaimed and tugged his brother into a dance. The hard soles of their shoes stomped and tapped against the floorboards, keeping beat with the music and adding their own flare to it.

Celegorm whistled at them and began to clap in rhythm.

After a few seconds, the cellar doors slammed open (Fëanor added an entrance down into the cellar from the kitchen during one of his episodes of nearly unstoppable energy and questionable late-night decision-making). Caranthir’s head and shoulders appeared as he climbed up the ladder.

“Land-o’-goshen!” He shouted at the ruckus. “What is going on up here?”

He and Nerdanel went down into the cellar to take stock of her supply of dried plants and fruits for making salves and teas. Judging from the half-forgotten mushroom he had in one hand and the dirt sprinkled across his hair and shoulders, he’d been checking the light-sensitive mushroom log just below them when the twins began dancing.

Nerdanel came up after him, equally as dusty.

Caranthir looked like he was trying to stay annoyed at his siblings, despite the levity brightening up the gloomy day. He scowled and shook his head, dirt tumbling down from his loose hair. He tried, but when Amrod waved at him to join the dance, he came after only a moment’s hesitation, discarding the mushroom cap on the table.

Nerdanel smiled to see all her children and grandchildren gathered around the fire, healthy and laughing and happy. There had been years where she feared she might lose one or more of them to the dangers of the mountain. There had been some very hard times, times she couldn’t even talk to her husband or find support from him, so intent was he in the childish belief that everything would be fine, that his sons just needed to rest, and that there was nothing, no injury, she could not heal. Somehow, though, they managed to survive year after year—not untouched or unchanged by what happened but alive and together.

Speaking of her husband, she soon noticed Fëanor’s absence. No doubt he’d tucked himself away in their bedroom to work on something and hadn’t even noticed the noise from the main room. Maedhros would not be so relaxed if anything happened while they were in the trees.

Shaking her head a little, she walked to their room and slipped inside.

As she suspected, she found Fëanor at his desk, scribbling in one of his many notebooks. The clothes he’d dressed in that morning were discarded near the door and he sat wrapped in a blanket made from the wool of their oldest sheep (the ewe was a decrepit thing now, her teeth worn down to nubs, her fleece patchy and thin over her bony body. She’d be gone before winter, either on her own or because they would not let her suffer the cold given the state she was in. Nerdanel was surprised he hadn’t taken care of her months ago; Fëanor did not usually allow the animals to linger, fading from life for this long. Celegorm’s dogs met a swift end if they became too ill—they rarely grew old—and the others were no different. She could not guess why he kept putting it off this time).

“Fëanor,” She began.

He raised a hand to stall her. “I’m busy.” He said, hunching over his notes. His hair left a damp spot on the blanket.

“They are singing and dancing. Come and join us.”

“I need to write this down. Things are changing. I need to make sense of it, of what and why.” His voice tremored with the beginning of agitation. “It’s changing.”

She walked to his side and laid a hand on his shoulder. Quickly, before she could see the pages, he closed the notebook and hid it under his hands. No one in the house could make sense of the code he devised for recording these particular thoughts, but he disliked them looking anyway, even for a moment. She brought her other hand to his cheek and slowly he looked up at her. His lips were a thin line across his face, his expression nervous.

“My dear,” She began again. “We have a brief time before life carries on and takes our sons out again on their journeys. Come with me. Worries and storms will be here when we are done, but for now, there is joy and family, and together we are safe.”

She took one of his narrow hands. He let her guide him to his feet. The blanket slipped down his shoulders, and she adjusted it, tucking in a corner to keep it in place. His free hand, wrapped inside the blanket, clutched at the fabric under his chin. She let her hand linger on his cool cheek for a few moments longer, then pulled it back. They left the room like that, his hand in hers.

Maglor was watching the door when his parents reappeared, the others still caught up in the revelry. His fingers stuttered on the strings and the fiddle squealed as his bow arm jolted. He would have stopped playing, concerned by his father’s drawn face and short stride, but Nerdanel smiled and nodded for him to continue. He did, raising the others’ excitement by jumping into another tune and seeing how long it took the children to catch up to him again. Celebrimbor stumbled along until Elrond helpfully tapped the beat out on his thigh with his foot.

Maedhors rose and grabbed a chair, bringing it back to the group and placing it between Celegorm and Curufin, leaving enough room for a second chair. Nerdanel brought Fëanor to the seat and he sat down without prompting, the tension around his eyes softening. Maedhros brought a chair for her and she settled down to laugh and clap along with her children. This was just as much fun as some of the town hall dances she went to during her youth wandering from town to town with her family.

She cheered when Amrod grabbed Curufin’s hand and dragged him into the dancing. Broad-shouldered and heavy-footed, he lacked the speed and grace of the twins and Caranthir, but he clonked along slightly offbeat with them with a grin. Soon, he pulled his son up to join him. Celebrimbor muttered something about never getting to just sit around but started dancing, clacking the spoons together on his hip or an upraised palm.

They continued on in that manner until the last of the light faded and the storm blew itself down to a whisper.

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tarithenurse · 3 years

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Spark - 26

Fandom: Enn Enn no Shōbōtai / Fire Force. Pairing: Shinmon Benimaru x fem!reader. Content: Feels, worry, injuries, tiredness, fluff. Lack of proofing. A/N: Thanks to all of you who have wanted tags, reblogged, commented, and liked <3 I’m very happy that you’ve stuck with this story all the way to the end. Thank you!

26. Warm heart

... Konro ...

The news of [Y/N] and Beni’s return (including the woman’s condition) had spread like wildfire among the residents of Asakusa and particularly the older women had taken it upon themselves to lighten the workload of Company Seven by providing hot meals – sent over by wide-eyed grandchildren who looked too dejected for Konro to bear when he tried to say none of this was necessary because in spite of what the neighbourhood seemed to think, everything had returned to some semblance of normal within a day.

“Time for bed, girls,” Konro begins to usher Hinata and Hikage out of the kitchen.

None of them look up from the drawings they’re working on (one depicting a demonic infernal washing the floor). “No,” they agree in creepy unison, “we’re strong independent women who don’t need a man to tell us what to do.”

...what? He doesn’t have to ask where they would have heard something like that: just this morning [Y/N] had said something along those lines to Benimaru when he tried to order her back to her sick bed. If only I’d known better. Konro had chuckled, telling his old friend to give up on the protectiveness, for now at least.

Staring down at the twins, the scarred man crosses his arm calmly. “Try again.”

Seconds later, papers float in the air as Hinata and Hikage have changed their minds and are sprinting off to get ready for bed.

... Reader ...

Ow. Ooow. Eeek. Ow. Ouch.

Limping past Benimaru’s office, you’re thankful the door is closed as you don’t need him to see how you’re gritting your teeth in pain. Maybe he had a point this morning...ow.

He had caught you leaving your room – your destination being the kitchen where Konro was busy serving breakfast for everyone present at the Special Fire Force Company Seven’s headquarters – and promptly ordered your back to bed, completely ignorant of the fact that you’d spent a full day there already and you were bored out of your mind. Opinions had been...exchanged before he let you do what you wanted for the rest of the day.

And now I’m paying the price. Every body part is screaming in protest at the mere idea of moving, littered with bruises and swells, and you’re fairly sure you’ve pulled a few of the stitches on your thigh. Just a bit more. Down the hall and around the corner, then you can collapse onto the futon and get the weight off your swollen ankle.

“Have I ever told you, you’re stubborn?” Beni’s bored voice stops any progress.

Fuck. “Once or twice,” you grit out, refusing to turn to see him standing there, probably arms crossed and leaning against the doorpost, “I take it as a compliment.”

“Figures.” There’s a huff and then you can feel him right behind you. “[Y/N]...” lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispers, “please...you don’t have to do everything alone and I know how strong you are. Let me he-...let me be of use.”

Oh, it’s tempting. You remember parts of the trip back from the Nether and how it had felt to be pressed against his warm body, nuzzling against the crook of his neck to inhale the mixed scents of coals, cedar, and light sweat. It had made it bearable whenever unconsciousness shifted and you were brought back to the pain.

Now Benimaru’s arms snake around your waist and under your knees and you realize you’ve said yes without meaning to, allowing him to lift and hold you against him once more. He tries to move carefully, reducing the jostle as much as he can even as he lays you down.

“[Y/N]...the wound...” The frown on his face could be either worry or exasperation as he shows off the blood that’s seeped through your trousers and onto his shirt.

“Sorry?”

Somehow, he accepts not getting a hold of the doctor. “I’ll...I’ll get what we need to rebandage it while you...” He motions to the bloody clothes, a pink tinge rising to the tip of his ears before he hurries out of the room.

It’s easier said than done and you’ve only managed to wriggle your butt out of the pants by the time he returns with cloths, bandages and hot water. Eyeing the lack of progress, Benimaru wordlessly asks for permission to help with the rest (leaving you in underwear and an oversized t-shirt) which he is granted – you’re too exhausted to keep up the hopeless charade of independence, preferring to be cared for. By him, specifically.

The large hands work meticulously, gently shifting off the layers of the soaked bandages while you lie back to watch in wonder. His shock of black hair can’t obscure the frown or the way he pulls his lips tight when the cloth sticks to the wound and you bite back a hiss of pain. He cradles your thigh with a subtle grasp as he begins to dab away the mess and turning the damp cloths continuously lighter shades of pink until everything finally is clean again.

“You’re luckier than you deserve,” Benimaru grumbles, “stitches are holding. It’s just been seeping from underneath.”

Pushing yourself up by the elbows, you can see he’s right and that a new bruise has formed around the wound. Okay...I’ll have to take it easy a few days more. “Fine...maybe you were right.”

“Maybe? Trust me, by the time it’s wrapped up, you’ll know I’m right.”

It’s obvious that’s he’s taking care, trying to shuffle your leg as little as possible and such, but the bandage has to stay in place and so he can’t let it be too loose. Sure, after the first layers of foamy material directly on the wound, the shifting pressure isn’t quite as bad...but it’s bad enough. Your nails are digging into your palms, teeth into lip, and tears are pouring down your cheeks even if you aren’t making a sound by the time Benimaru is done and has lifted your ankle up by placing a stack of pillows under the calf and foot.

“I’m sorry,” he hushes you, spreading the covers over you, “I really tried to be careful.”

“Mhmm.” You don’t trust your voice to say anything else, but lift the covers aside for him to join you. “Please?”

Something deep and warm moves in those mix-matched eyes of his as you studies your face. Then he discards everything but his boxers and lies down on his side, facing you. The touch of his fingertips is barely there as he wipes away the tracks of the tears.

“I know...I won’t always be able to prevent you from hurting...but I wish I could, babe,” he whispers.

Of course he can’t. It doesn’t matter though, you decide, as long as he’ll be there to help you afterwards and you tell him as much, words mumbled against his lips before losing yourself in a slow kiss.

You are both out of breath when he breaks away.

“I’m not letting you leave bed tomorrow except for the absolute minimum!” Beni vows.

“I could be convinced if you come and cuddle up with me sometimes.”

Raising an eyebrow at the weak smirk you grant him, he seems to consider the idea for a few seconds before smiling: “Fine. I can accept that.”

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anthemxix · 3 years

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Fierce deity wars aftermath? :o (I'm sorry if this comes across as demanding or rude, was just excited to see the fic and was curious how what happened after might go, it was really good!)

this isn't rude at all, my friend! i'm flattered you enjoyed my fic enough to ask for a follow-up! thank you ;w;

this picks up right where the previous one left off (here's the first part)

"Injuries?"

"Nothing major."

Voices drift through the dreamless void, which clings to Warriors like cobwebs: wispy, malleable, adhesive.

"Is he awake?"

"Maybe. Not aware, at any rate."

The words seem insubstantial, impossible to grasp, like specks of light.

"Captain? Can you hear me?"

"Time to wake up, Pretty Boy."

Like a borealis, the voices shimmer above him. Though tangible, they shy from his reach.

Warriors concentrates on forcing his eyes open, and his lashes scrape against red cotton.

"Hey, Captain? You with us?"

The stench of death saturates the air, so he must still be on the battlefield. He tries to lift his head, to see his surroundings, but all he glimpses is red.

"Hey. Pretty Boy. You awake?"

Still, he pieces it together by feel. His side is pressed against someone. His head is lolling on their shoulder. Their arm is around his back, fiercely gripping his sleeve.

"Captain, can you look at me?"

He's being held. Huh. That's a nice feeling, being held. Safe. His eyes begin to slip closed again.

"No, Captain. Stay awake. Look at me."

Always one to obey orders, he drags his head around a fraction, searching for the source of the voice. His vision is blurry, but he can see a green tunic, brown hair. The Traveler.

Something cool brushes against his hand. Glass. A bottle. His fingers automatically hook around it. Something warm wraps around his hand, affixes it in place.

"Drink this for me, okay?"

Warriors' bones are infused with lead. He watches the Traveler guide the potion to his mouth, but his body won't cooperate. His throat muscles seize, and he coughs out the liquid. It speckles across the red tunic he's cuddled up against.

"Don't make him choke!" someone outside his line of vision squawks. That's the Sailor. He knows the little Sailor's voice.

"Sorry," Hyrule laments, and cups a hand under Warriors' chin, tilts his head back. Tries again with the bottle.

This time, Warriors downs two gulps before his throat locks up and he coughs out the rest of it.

"You're getting my tunic wet." A gripe, but the grip on his arm tightens, protective. The Vet. That's the Vet, holding him. Red tunic. Right.

A thought emerges from his mental haze. Twilight. Hadn't he been with Twilight? Warriors wishes he could ask, but he's so tired. He closes his eyes again, sinks back into the void where his friends' voices echo around him. It reminds him of being trapped in the Great Fairy's bottle, the way everything is muffled and obscured and looming.

Warriors lets their voices wash over him, idly picking out words when he can and examining them like puzzles in need of solving.

"There's caves that way, half a mile or so."

"He can't walk."

"I can carry him."

"No. Traveler's magic may have stitched your wounds up, but your body still needs time to recover."

"Here, I can do it."

There are hands on him, and he's getting shifted around, and he wishes he could move. Instead, he completely retreats to the empty dark space in his head.

Then the concept of time becomes as ephemeral and elusive as his friends' voices around him.

Sometimes when Warriors opens his eyes, there's sunlight, and sometimes there's only the hazy glow of embers or the flicker of a lantern. He can't shrug off the mental mire that pins him down, can't ever keep his eyes open long enough to fully process where he is or what's going on.

That would feel more disconcerting if not for the constant, comforting presence of his friends. One of them is always right at his side when he wakes. The little Sailor, snuggled against him. Sky, carving wooden figurines. Four, polishing weapons. Even as he slides back into the dreamless dark, he feels safe.

That is, until the dark stops being dreamless.

Memories begin to unravel before him, unspooling into formless shapes and colors. At first, all he can see is blood-drenched chaos; he hears dying screams and clanking weapons, smells copper and iron. Slowly, the memories come into focus, draw together into distinct scenes. He can distinguish certain moments: a lizalfos sliced in half at the waist; a darknut's chopped-off head thunking to the dirt; a bulbin slipping on spilled moblin guts as it tries to run, then shrieking as it gets skewered.

These memories aren't his, per se; they belong to his body. His body, which he can see morph into someone else's. His hands, which are someone else's hands, brandishing a double-helix sword that cuts through monsters with no resistance.

Although Warriors has witnessed much more gruesome atrocities, these memories steep him with burgeoning unease. The violent images burrow under his skin like termites, boring tunnels into him from the inside out, as he watches them play in a loop, over and over. They continuously reignite in the dark like poe lanterns, haunting and undead.

Oblivion shifts from a refuge to a prison. Warriors starts to jolt awake with startled gasps, his terror wrenching him back into consciousness. In these moments, he often finds Time next to him, stroking his hair, murmuring soothing platitudes that Warriors can't hear over his pounding heart.

Once, he lurches awake with a shout, wide-eyed and shuddering as detailed visions of massacre still float through his head. Time gently shushes him, tucks him back into his bedroll, and pulls out the banged-up wooden ocarina he used to play as a child.

Warriors curls up on his side, hearing the distant whispers of rainfall beneath the unfamiliar melody that Time plays. The tune is wistful and haunted, layered with tragedy, like its player. But it massages away the tension rigidifying Warriors' muscles, calms the frantic adrenaline buzzing through his system. When he falls asleep, he doesn't dream anymore.

- - -

Sighing with relief, Warriors slumps back against the door. The past few days, he's managed to stay awake for longer and longer stretches, but constant fatigue still holds him hostage. Finding a town with an inn feels like a miracle, and even though he could easily collapse right here on the floor, he is eager to finally sleep in a real bed.

With effort, he straightens and shrugs off his shield, sword, and bags, depositing them by the nearest bed. The weight of his equipment has never felt so burdensome before; he's concerned that this debilitating exhaustion is atrophying his muscles and permanently docking his stamina.

But like every thought lately, he can't keep hold of his concerns for too long. They slip away from him, and he gladly lets them go, concentrating instead on the unnecessarily arduous task of shucking all his armor.

As he loosens the leather bracers on his arms, Warriors absently scans the compact rented room, which only contains two twin beds and a shabby dresser. He blinks at the dresser mirror, freezing as he registers his reflection.

Armor temporarily forgotten, Warriors strides across the tacky rug and splays his hands on the dresser. Most mornings, he spends what the others consider an unreasonable amount of time fawning over his hair in his hand mirror—personally, he thinks none of them spend enough time on making themselves presentable—but lately, he's forgone that ritual, only casting cursory glances at his reflection to ensure he's not overwhelmingly unkempt.

He hasn't gotten a proper look at himself in days, which is why the sight of the mask's red and blue brands give him such a shock.

Though their colors have already begun to fade, the sharply angled lines remain prominent. No wonder the other heroes, who have been treating him delicately, like he's liable to break, can't look at him without staring at those marks. What do they think, when they see them?

Warriors find them abhorrent. Finds that looking at them triggers unease and discomfort and nausea.

He turns away from the mirror and resumes removing his armor, gracelessly dumping it on the floor and topping the pile with his sloppily folded scarf. As he flops onto the bed, he sighs again, the relief of getting off his feet immediate and encompassing. The mattress is thin and there's a rogue spring jutting into his lower back, but goddesses, does it feel good to lie down.

Lazily, he drapes an arm over his eyes to block out the afternoon sunshine filtering in through the flimsy curtains. He doesn't feel sleepy, exactly, doesn't feel like he'll get dragged into unconscious oblivion like he was for several days right after donning the mask, but he truly is exhausted.

Physical exertion, sparse as it's been, contributes to Warriors’ fatigue. Progress across this Hyrule has been slow; the distance the heroes have covered over the past few days could be crossed, under normal circumstances, in half the time.

Warriors didn’t even walk for much of that distance. He couldn’t. Along with his sluggishness, his legs wobbled like a newborn deer’s and his sense of balance was skewed. Wind continually remained next to him, catching him when he stumbled and preventing him from toppling over.

When walking became too infeasible (and he was too tired to care about pride and dignity), he'd ride Epona. By that point, he'd usually feel so weak and shaky that he would require a boost from Twilight just to mount the horse, and from there it was a perpetual struggle to stay upright.

Fortunately, he's steadier now, able to walk without feeling constantly on the verge of collapse, but the fact that he is not okay is tremendously self-evident.

He hears the door to his room open and close, but he doesn't bother uncovering his eyes. He's certain it's just whoever decided to room with him this time—probably Wind or Legend—dropping their belongings off before venturing into town.

A lengthy moment passes before he recognizes the sound of heavy plate armor clinking. Moving his arm a fraction, he peeks out to see Time shedding his armor, setting it aside with more care than Warriors had mustered.

Warriors blinks in surprise. Time is the last person he expected to see here.

The other heroes' behavior around the Captain is subdued, and they speak to him quietly, like he's an animal prone to startle. They act so sad, he thinks now. Like they're grieving. Like they've lost something.

But Time... He was there for those horrid days when Warriors was drifting in and out of consciousness, trapped in nightmares, but ever since then, he's kept a distance. He won't even look at Warriors most of the time.

It would be unfair for Warriors to be bothered by that, though. Like a coward, he's been reciprocating the cold shoulder treatment, because he can't bear it.

He can't bear thinking about his little Sprite using that cursed mask. How old was the kid when he first used it? And what was the aftermath like for him? Was he alone? Did he have someone to comfort him through the nightmares? To help him walk or tend his wounds?

How many times has Time used this mask for those marks to permanently smirch his face?Is the aftermath of using the mask always this dreadful? What if it's not, because Time has gotten used to the effects of the damn thing?

And if Warriors feels so strange after what must have been mere minutes with the mask on—if he feels like his very essence has been ripped apart and reassembled—if he feels like some of his pieces are missing, or that now there is something new inside him, something he can't quite identify or describe—then how must Time feel, having used the mask for decades?

How does it feel to sacrifice yourself over and over, to let an inconceivable power destroy and rebuild you however it pleases, and then carry that weight alone?

With his armor off, Time turns around and catches Warriors' gaze. His neutral expression doesn't change. "I thought you'd be asleep by now."

Warriors breaks eye contact, repositioning his arm over his eyes. Coward. "I thought you'd be making sure the kids don't set the town ablaze."

"I'm sure the Rancher can handle it."

For some reason, this statement pricks at Warriors' heart. "I know he's your favorite, Old Man, but don't misplace your faith. He can be as much of a troublemaker as the rest of them."

After a long stretch of quiet, Warriors feels the thin mattress sink. He peers under his elbow to see Time sitting at the foot of his bed, leaning forward, elbows on knees. Hands folded, he's looking at the opposite wall, expression still deliberately blank. "Is that what you think?"

"Yeah, I do. Didn't you hear his arson story?"

Time huffs a soft, startled laugh. "No, I meant...you believe he's my favorite?"

Warriors shifts, pulls his arm away from his face. "Well, yeah? It's not up for debate, is it? It's obvious."

"Hmm." Time looks down at his hands, and his mouth flickers between a slight smile and slight frown before settling on the latter. When he speaks again, it's stilted, like a formal recitation. "Captain, I owe you an apology. I've left you to deal with the mask's effects by yourself."

Dragging himself to a sitting position, Warriors says, "That's not true..."

He's suddenly struck by a vague memory of a recent night where he fell asleep as soon as the heroes found a campsite. Tired beyond caring, Warriors had promptly slid off Epona and settled in the dirt a few paces from the horse. Prone on his stomach, he pillowed his head with his arms, despite his bracers digging into his cheeks.

Later, Time roused him, herding him upright. He was still half-asleep, struggling to keep his eyes open, as Time worked on taking off his protective gear piece by piece. Warriors' chainmail had pressed grooves into his torso; it was a relief to have someone else guide the heavy armor over his head and set it aside.

"Come to your bedroll," Time had said softly, and he ushered Warriors into his sleeping mat, which lie ready and waiting. Exponentially more comfortable now, Warriors had dropped off to sleep almost instantly, but still, he registered Time gently tucking the blankets around him.

Weary, Time sighs and rakes a hand through his hair. "It is true. I've been selfish. I shouldn't have left you to figure this out on your own. I know how it feels. How...confusing it is. How strange it is, like your body isn't quite right anymore, or like you're not quite the same. How..."

He flexes his fingers, searching for his words, and a mournful look breaks through his stony facade. "How...broken it makes you feel."

After a silent, somber moment, Warriors shifts to sit next to Time, dropping his bare feet to the warped hardwood. The mattress creaks. He feels another damaged spring jabbing into him.

"I'm sorry that you've always had to handle this alone," Warriors says. A lump hardens in his throat, and he swallows. "I'm so sorry, Sprite."

Time looks at him then, really looks at him. Slowly scans the red and blue lines before re-locking eyes. He smiles, sad and small but genuine, and sets a hand on Warriors' shoulder. "I'm proud of you, you know. I've always been proud of you."

Warmth blossoms in his chest at the unexpected words, and Warriors has to turn away.

"Perhaps you should get some rest." The smile lingers in Time's voice. "We can talk when you wake up."

With Time's hand still on his shoulder, Warriors says, "I can stay up a little longer. I think we have a lot to talk about."

#catch me once again only hinting at emotional closure but not actually providing it :D #i gave time and wars a cute moment though #oh yeah ps. i like the idea that wars is a lil jealous of time and twi's relationship #like idk how true to character that is #but i like it #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu #lu warriors #warriors #lu time #time #fanfic #anthem answers #anthem writes

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spvce-cowboy · 3 years

Note

could you put these together with javi? i got them from one of the pomrpt lists!!! thank you!

when one of them is hurt by the antagonist… and their lover goes… absolutely ballistic and does everything in their power to get to the person they love, to the point in which the antagonist and it’s crew have to physically restrain them… and it still doesn’t stop them… they jsut keep kicking… doesn’t matter what happens to them… doesn’t matter if they get beaten in the process… as long as their lover is safe…

when they haven’t seen each other for a while (bonus point if they’re not sure the other one is alive) and all this time they’ve been trying to stay strong, but when they reunite, they crash into each other’s arms, and completely breakdown…

anon ur speaking my language here

warnings below the cut: cannon-typical violence, painkiller usage

javi spits out the blood in his mouth before turning his gaze back up at the sicario crouched before him.

it lands on the dirt floor of the basement with a wet sound. the sicario’s eyes--so strung-out that his pupils have been reduced to twin pinpricks of black against his sickly green irises--flick down to the puddle of red-black liquid before resuming his scan of javi’s face.

“the girl means a lot to you, huh?” the sicario has an all-too-familiar texan drawl, long blond hair stringy with the gel.

“where the fuck is she.” he grits out the same mantra he’d been repeating since he broke down the back door of the warehouse. the same mantra he’d repeated as he fought off two of the men, shooting one of them in the foot (twice) before he was overwhelmed by the other guards. the same mantra he repeated as they forced him to the ground, kicking his ribs until breathing was an issue. didn’t matter. he kept fighting regardless. it took two men to twist his arms behind his back like this, both of whom he got a jab or two against before they wrestled him to the ground.

“think that’s it. she your little play-thing? didn’t realize men like you still got hot for teacher.” the sicario cocks his head like a dog might, itching behind his ear with his glock in mock-thought. “though i suppose the whores get old after a while. y’know where we grabbed her? the fucking library. the whole sweet and innocent shick must really get your rocks off.” he laughs. a cruel, sharp bark. javi didn’t understand the meaning of blind rage until this moment.

“i’ll fucking kill you,” javi grits his teeth as one of the men restraining him twists his shoulder back even further. “i swear to god if you laid a hand on her i’ll--”

the sicario makes a disgusted sound in the back of his throat, rolling his eyes and standing, as if even the suggestion was insulting. “not my style,” he pauses for a second, then gestures to one of the men holding javi down. “bull, however, if i decide to give him the chance...”

javi doesn’t register the surge of energy that has him attempting to struggle to his feet again. he only processes being pushed flush with the floor again, the sharp crack of pain that rolls through him enough to still the breath in his throat.

“i can get you money,” it’s hard to speak around the blood flooding his mouth but he manages. “money, information, whatever you want. whatever the fuck you want. just tell me where--”

the windows break all at once. javi stays flush against the group as the weight on top of him lifts, the sound of gunfire loud enough to have his hearing go to nothing more than a dull whine.

he doesn’t know how much time passes before someone rolls him onto his back. he coughs, something warm and wet covering his chin and rolling down the sides of his neck. someone’s voice is speaking to him, urgently, as a bright light is shone into his eyes but it’s nothing more than a murmur over the high-pitched tone bouncing through his skull. he thinks he might be saying something, might be trying to blindly bat the flashlight away because it hurts and he keeps trying to blink away the fuzzy haze that has settled over his vision. the world goes dark without warning.

you wake up in a hospital bed, heavy eyelids sliding open as your head rolls to the side. for a second you can do nothing more than take in deep lungfuls of air and listen to the steady beeping of the monitor to your right.

the painkillers getting pumped into your arm renders your tongue thick and heavy in your mouth, your throat dry enough that you can barely croak out a small: “javi” without wincing.

there’s a cool hand against your forearm, giving you a reassuring pat. you have to blink a few times before the nurse’s kind face comes into focus.

“he’s alright,” she tells you. her spanish, soft and sing-song and warm with relief, is as much as a reassurance as the hand she has on your forearm. something in you automatically relaxes. you think it’ll be a while before you can hear an american accent again without something within you curling in on itself with fear. without warning, the sicario’s face reappears in your memory, a jolting enough apparition that you squeeze your eyes shut again, flinching. the nurse notices, her voice growing even calmer. “he’s alright. resting, but alright. go back to sleep, you need your strength right now.”

you comply, though it’s not really a choice on your behalf. you just blink again and suddenly all other sounds fade, your eyelids sliding shut.

they make you down a meal of saltines and apple-juice before javi can come into the room.

you can see javi’s silhouette on the other side of the small pane of glass above the doorknob as you patiently work your way through the packet of crackers. you can’t help the loopy smile that overtakes your face while you see the silent movements of him arguing with the nurse outside. the frustrated way he throws his hands up and then starts pacing small circles in front of the closed door.

when you finish nursing the small box of juice that they gave you, the nurse who was helping you unwrap the saltines’ plastic sheaths--your hands too shaky to manage on your own, which was a bit embarrassing--stands and opens the door just wide enough to slip through.

you wait, entire body stilling as the two of them speak quietly outside, the monitor beside you betraying the beat of your hear. your breath catches in your throat as you see the knob turn down. it hesitates for a second before the door swings open.

you nearly start weeping when you see him. he looks panicked, wide-eyed and scanning you from the other side of the room as if you were about to break at any second. you swallow, opening your mouth to begin saying his name and--

javi crosses the distance between the threshold and your bedside in two long strides. you do your best to sit up to meet him half way, ignoring the whirring series of beeps that the monitors release with the movement. you collapse against him, his arms folding you against his chest with a touch gentle enough to demonstrate he at least absorbed at least some of whatever the nurse told him. you can practically feel the restraint it takes him not to crush you to him in reassurance that you were actually here. that this wasn’t some delusional mirage. he peppers the top of your head with kisses, one of his hands gently cupping the side of your face. his are shaking as much as yours are.

you don’t realize you’re crying until you pull back to look at him, cupping your palms against his cheeks and searching every feature, every new inch of swollen bruising, the stitches collected just above his brow that will no doubtably form a new scar for you to kiss before the two of you fall asleep each night.

“i’ve got you,” he breaths, closing his eyes and gently leaning his forehead against yours. your thumb swipes the under-eye of the unbruised side of his face as you look at him with relief, feeling truly safe for the first time in weeks. “no matter what. fuck i-- you--”

you cut him off with a kiss, something that’s both hungry and reassuring. he sinks against your mouth as he gathers you against the warmth of his body once more.

and it feels like home. it always will.

requests are open !

#javier peña x reader #javier peña #thots (tm)#javi thots

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shooting-starry · 3 years

Text

Trust me. Love me. Shoot me.

Atsumu Miya x female reader

Summary: Atsumu finds himself with a young woman who is more that what she seems.

A/n: I had zero motivation to day to write this but please enjoy!? As always, please don’t repost! To support me please like or reblog. Also!! Send me a request if you want to be added to the tags list for this series!

Y/n= your name

L/n= Your last name

Y/h/c= your hair colour

Y/e/c= your eye colour

Warning: extremely unedited, mentioned blood, mentioned fire, burning, medical stuff, needles

Previous//Next

Atsumu woke up with the warm morning sun spilling through the window, and the fresh morning air cascaded through the open window. There was no pain in his body and his head was light. His head was lying on a soft, plush pillow and the silk sheets were smooth against his skin. Everything was fine.

Well almost fine. The only problem was that he didn’t own any silk sheets. He had scratchy cotton ones. In alarm, Atsumu sat up straight and looked around the somewhat familiar room. He was is a room with lightly coloured walls and a few plants which hung from the ceiling. Beside the door was a body length mirror with two coat hooks beside it. Next to where he sat was a beige bedside table with two drawers and a single daisy in a small glass jar and 2 doors which he guessed led to the closet. Directly across from him was a desk with a small stack of books, a spiral bounded notebook, and a few pens, along with a girl, L/n. She had her nose in a book. Her eyes following the line she was reading. Her face was relaxed, but scrunched in displeasure, or maybe anticipation, at the book in front of her. Her nimble fingers flipped the page. As she kept reading, her eyebrows scrunched and her mouth fell open in surprise, or maybe hatred or shock, at the new page. That was a beautiful expression that she wore.

Astumu didn’t want to admit it, but she was beautiful. Her face was doll-like, giving her the illusion of youth, but her eyes showed much more maturation and pain, but held kindness and love. Her lips looked soft and sweet, and were especially beautiful when she pulled her mouth into a wide smile. Her hair looked elegant however it fell around her face, or maybe she would look more breathtaking with her hair up. It beautifully framed her face, and made her y/e/c eyes stand out. L/n’s voice was also beautiful. It was melodic and sweet, but could also held the intensity of a thousand dagger. Her laugh would sound nice too. Maybe it would be a light chuckle. Or maybe a breathy laugh where she would crinkle her nose. Or if her laugh was a belly laugh full of life and happiness. That would be lovely. Astumu watched as her face contorted to many different emotions, surprise, hate, confusion. But it made him sad that her face was almost always neutral. Emotionless.

Suddenly, the door opened, and in walked the man with dark hair and metallic blue eyes. He was very tall and was decently built. His eyes scanned the room taking inventory of the situation. L/n looked up from her book and gave him a discreet nod.

“Hello L/n-san. Anything new?” He asked. His voice was smooth and empty. His eyes, and L/n’s shifted to Atsumu. He felt like a monkey in a zoo enclosure, with everyone watching him as he flung his feces at the wall. He watched as L/n and the dark haired man had a conversation though eye contact, head movements and face expressions. The “conversation” mainly consistent of L/n rolling her eyes and the man angrily raising his eyebrows.

“Well do you have a plan for that ?” L/n said finally, breaking the silence, but adding to the tension within the small room. At least Astumu knew that the mystery man’s wasn’t a potential danger.

“Well Y/n we need to take care of Miya-san first. For all we know you would have brought a wanted criminal into our house! How do you think the rest of us will react?” The man yell at her. L/n kept her face straight. No sign of any emotions covered her face and her eyes became more intense, almost like a tiger ready to kill.

“I am going to say it once. This is my house. I will decide when things happen and how things will happen. I decided to help someone who was dying on the street, and you don't get to judge my kindness. Not after what happened at the train station!" she stated with a calm icy tone, book long forgotten on the desk. The room was noticeably colder and Atsumu was feeling unsure of what was happening. The tall man stood, face unmoved, but behind his eyes showed something more. Something about the train station bugged him. He didn't speak or move, but his compliance was displayed through his eyes. He walked out wordlessly and shut the door behind him. Astumu was still in shock. Not sure if it was the situation in general, or maybe it was the amount of power L/n held.

“So how are you feeling, Miya-san?” She asked, breaking Atsumu from his thoughts. Her voice back to the sweet voice he remembered from the day before.

“Am fine, what just happened?” Her inquired curiously, hoping to get an answer. The mysterious man gave Atsumu many question, and not a single answer.

“Well Miya-san, I think you are forgetting our deal. You said you would tell me everything, and so far you haven’t. So if you could please tell me, then go ahead.” She replied in a teasing manner. Astumu tensed at her light hearted tone. The stark contrast between her light-hearted tone now and the cold tone from just minutes ago made his skin crawl. The eagerness was written on her face as she sat cross legged in the chair across from him.

“Well it’s complicated. Ya see, we were gonna ambush a rival yakuza. But they saw us comin’ and fought us back. A got hit a few times, then someone lit the building on fire. I ran out, then I ended up here.” He said, recalling the events of that night. He remembered the scent of blood, both his and the people around him, and the gasoline, and the horrid screams of people in the fire as their bodies burned. He was lucky that he got out. He wondered about his closest acquaintances, Kita, Suna, and Aran. But also his twin brother, Osumu. Damn how could this happen? If anything happened to them, then it would be his fault. All because of his recklessness. Snapping out of his thoughts, he looked at L/n who was in deep thought. Her forehead was crinkled and her eyes seemed to be seeing right through him.

After what could have been only five minutes, she got up quietly and walked towards the closet. Inside the closet was an artillery of medical supplies. Multiple boxes of gloves and masks, along with a small fridge that held many small bottles of drugs. There were also a crash cart with everything that could be sues in an emergency, a defibrillator, a breathing bag, a tracheotomy kit and tubes. There were also about 3 oxygen tanks with small carts. She rummaged around in the closet until she got out some bandages and a small suture kit with a pair of needle drivers and toothed forceps along with a few other tools Atsumu could not recognize. Then L/n grab a small vile of drug and a needle from another part of the closet. She walk towards Atsumu, tools in hand as he watched curiously. As she go to the bed side table, she injected the needle into the vile which Astumu could now read as “morphine” and carefully pulled back the piston until there was maybe 5 milligrams of morphine. She grabbed his left arm and injected it into his bicep. Then she grabbed his left leg and removed the bandages from his leg. At first, he was questioning his lack of pants, before he remembered the “incident”. As your hands nimbly unwrap the bandage, the stench from his leg escaped into the room, causing him to plug him nose, but L/n seemed unaffected as she unwrapped the bandages. Once the bandages were removed she walked to the small garbage can beside the foot of the bed, which he did not notice, which was already half full of bloody bandages and the sweatpants from earlier. L/n carefully inspected the neatly done stitches, making sure there was no sign of the wound reopening. Once she was sure there was no sign of reopening or infection, she rewrapped the leg in new clean bandages.

“Thank you for the information Miya-san, you will need to rest so your wounds don’t reopen or become worse. I will be back in a few hours so please don’t move and if you need anything please just scream.” She said curly before turning around and leaving before he could reply. Atsumu felt very confused, but he also felt drowsiness. “Maybe from the morphine” he thought before drifting off to sleep.

Sometime later, he woke up to hearing voices down the stairs. There were 3 male voices and L/n’s. They were murmuring urgently.

“L/n-san, we can’t let him stay here. It’s too dangerous. If they find us we will be killed. You know that.” Said the first voice, which sounded like the mystery man from earlier in the day.

“No Akaashi-san, it will be fine.” Replied another deeper voice. “I don’t see why not besides we could take care of anything that happens.”

“Why are you being kind to that lowly yakuza. It doesn’t fit your character.” Replied the first voice, which Atsumu now knew belonged to the mystery man, Akaashi.

“I am always this kind. Besides Akaashi, you are just overthinking it too much.” Said the deep voice again.

“Yeah ‘Kaashi, I agree with them” said another , “Even if they figure out that we were responsible for those incidents, they have no proof”.

“Exactly Akaashi-san,” you agreed, “And if he does anything, then I will take care of him”.

Taglist:

@kayleighbeccaa

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avian-writes · 3 years

Text

Alice & Avi in Pelican Town

Me and my sisters play as our OCs in Stardew Valley so here are some snippets of their time in Pelican Town! It’s in a different style than most of my WIPs, so please tell me what you think~ :)

Words: 1,239

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alice laid on the twin bed all by her lonesome in her darkened bedroom, curled up in the thin blanket with her face buried in the mattress. Hidden from the cruel, hideous world that took her grandpa from her. One that refused to even give its empty condolences; one that went on without the last stable presence in her life; one that didn’t give a damn her world was shattered once again. The same one that already took her parents and most of her siblings away.

Her fingers dug into the fabric until the quilt started to form jagged bruises in their design. Quickly letting up her hold but not letting go of her lifeline: brown and pink squares stitched together lovingly just days before passing. A sniffle escaped her throat and she snuggled deeper into her cloth abyss.

A knock at the door interrupted her lamenting, opening without invitation to enter. Her brother kept his distance though she knew could practically hear his hands clenching and unclenching, wanting to hug her. “How are you feeling?”

Silence. The only answer he’d gotten for days. When they got the call. When they were at the funeral home. When they visited the grave every week for the past month. Bits and pieces of dialogue that just turned into no speaking at all at some point.

Avi sighed and held up an envelope. “How about this?”

After a moment’s hesitation, she poked the very top of her head out. Just enough as an acknowledgement of her brother’s proposition. He smiled and opened the letter, scanning it thoroughly several times before walking over and sitting on the edge of the bed. “Read it.”

Multiple seconds went by, but Alice finally slowly rolled down the blanket to take the letter then snapped it back into place over her head. She read the letter under the safety of her deflated fort while Avi waited patiently.

After a long time, even after reading and rereading the fateful letter, she emerged from her swaddle and sat slumped over on the bed. “Are we going?” she asked.

He expressed visible relief at hearing her voice and she sucked in a teary breath. “I don’t think we really have a choice. Do you want to stay here?”

Alice leaned back to the window hanging above her head. The tops of the city buildings blocked the view of the open air sky that she dearly missed. Loud noises of hustling and bustling beneath the apartment created a tent of mayhem that just irked her the wrong way.

It wasn’t like that always in her life. She and Avi had lived in a house by a lake at one point. With Alex and Laurence. A beautiful one with a basement just for the two of them. With a dock and large yard and space between them and the rest of town. Before they had to move. Before everything happened.

Now they only had each other left. And a home they had to share with tens of other people. People that didn’t care about them.

Her quietness was answer enough and Avi tapped her head. “That settles it then. Pack your bags when you’re ready and I’ll call the town. Make sure there’s a bus line that gets that deep into the valley.”

His hand gently fell off her head and Alice caught it in time to give it a quick squeeze before letting go. So fast, anyone else in the room would’ve missed it, but that’s fine. It was their thing, not anyone else’s. Not like there was anyone else ever there to witness the siblings’ strangeness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~``

“I’m living there.”

“What?” Avi followed her pointing finger to the house near what used to be their grandpa’s home. It was around the same size, just in a different style that somehow both matched and didn’t fit the rest of the farm aesthetic. “Why?”

Alice shrugged in a way that she hoped was nonchalantly. “I want to live on my own. At least somewhat.”

Avi narrowed his eyes at the building. It wasn’t overgrown and was missing the spare logs for the fireplace jutting out from the roof. But it was pretty to Alice and that’s all that mattered. “Looks too unstable to live in.”

“Like this crappy house is much better.”

“Hey! Watch your language.” A breeze blew past and he tightened his jacket around his shoulders. “At least sleep in the house with me tonight so I can look at it tonight. Make sure it’s livable for you.”

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, but she knew he would fight her step of the way if she disagreed and she just wanted to get started. “Fine. So what are we doing?” she asked, kicking over a stray stone.

Avi handed over his parsnip seeds to her. “Mayor said something about a woman who sells cows, chickens, stuff like that over in the forest. I’ll talk to the carpenter tomorrow about building a coop and barn.”

“Can you even take care of animals?”

Avi shrugged. “Animatronics, living animals. Similar things.” He ruffled her hair and she ducked from his hand. “Don’t worry about it. Just pay attention to the crops and we’ll be fine.”

She groaned and lightly stomped her foot like the child she definitely wasn’t. “I don’t want to work with the crops. Why can’t I do something more exciting like...fishing or something?”

“Since when is fishing more exciting than the food we need to grow and sell?”

“Since I decided I hate farming.”

“We’ve been here twenty minutes, you’ll grow to like it. Maybe we’ll get lucky and there will be monsters around here for you to fight.”

Alice crossed her arms. “I see one right now,” she grumbled but relented. She tossed her hoe in the air, catching it on its way down effortlessly, and smacked it into the ground in one fell swoop.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The dance festival was a somber occasion for Alice. She didn’t know anyone well enough to ask them to dance and she didn’t feel anywhere near confident enough to ask if she and Avi could dance something they don’t know with the others in front of everyone.

So she and her brother stood in the shadows, back in the corner of the forest, while everyone got ready. Beautiful girls in beautiful dresses, handsome guys in somewhat ugly jumpsuits. She didn’t know how she felt about potentially wearing the dress but the yearning to be part of the ceremony was easy enough to ignore.

Alice knew she had a vague memory. Of standing on her father’s shoes while he danced them around the room. Step by step around the furniture, across the wooden floor. Before being handed off to each of her siblings who flew her off her feet. All while her mother played their favorite songs on her slightly burnt fiddle.

The music began to play, barging into her happy thoughts and dwindling them down to their bare austere manner. The memory turned sour and the warm atmosphere surrounding her felt like a tease.

Silently, she took Avi’s hands and he helped her onto his boots. As the younger people of the valley danced out in the open, the two siblings danced to their own little tune hummed under her breath. A few villagers who took notice simply smiled and turned their attention back to the larger spectacle, leaving them be.

#writeblr #stardew valley #ocs #writers on tumblr

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a-monsters-love · 4 years

Text

The Air Between Us: Part 1

[Prologue] [Part 1] [Blurb 1] [Part 2] [Blurb 2] [Epilogue]

Zuko x A!Reader:

Genre: fluff

Warnings: mild swearing

Word count: 7742

Time line: Takes place when the Gaang goes to the Fire Lords beach house with Zuko on Ember Island. I changed it from them going to see the play about themselves and go to a circus instead; I extended the time they were on the island to fit everything.

A/N: If your reading this I hope it lives up to any expectations, the prologue got so much more love than I thought it would. This is my first fan fic, the reader was originally written as my DnD OC so I apologize if she’s written wonky. I hope I wrote Zuko’s character well, I was worried I wrote him too OOC but I’ve read so much Zuko x Reader fanfics that I felt like it wasn’t that bad lmao. I am my own proof reader so please message me if I messed something up. Also I don’t know how to write Sokka or Suki’s character, I’ve never met anyone like Sokka and Suki has so little dialogue in the show that I feel like she’s just happy to be there.

(Y/N) = Your name (S/C) = Skin color (H/C) = Hair color (E/C) = Eye color

————

“SSHHUUUUUUU.” A loud, terrifying, growl hissed through the Fire Lords vacation home. Echoing into an almost animalistic growl.

“Ah.” Shu looks over to Katara, ”Sounds like (Y/N) is awake.” Probably also waking up everything else in the greater vicinity. Based on the ferocity in your voice they decide it’s probably best to rush over to the room you’re now resting in.

You’re alone, in a hastily cleaned dust covered room. You don’t know where you are. You aren’t aware of how you got here or what day it is. You’re sticky, you reek of herbs, and everything HURTS. These are facts you listed as you woke up. You hear the softest knocking on the door, “If you are not my brother or with him I will rip you to shreds.” You snarl at the door, it’s been a long time since you’ve been this mad, you can hear the hand that was on the door knob let go and take a step back, not going much further than that. Exhaustion starts taking over but you were determined to stay awake until you received your answers. You hear large familiar foot steps run over to the room you’ve been placed in. When the door finally opens you see your twin brother, Shu with Katara, and a very nervous looking Zuko up against the wall behind them. You determined he was the one you threatened. Your (E/C) eyes flick from the nervous fire bender to your brother, “You’re late and I have questions, little brother.” You hissed menacingly.

——

It’s been less than 24 hours since you passed out. In that time, you’ve managed to win over the Gaang and somehow sort out the choices your brother made for the both of you. Neither of which you disagreed with however you barely remember anything that happened after the end of the fight at the circus. You blacked out, this wasn’t a first, but it was a first from blood loss. Katara has been working on healing your wounds every 4-6 hours, letting the salve do its job before cleaning you as best she could through the fear that you might not have made it otherwise. She looks exhausted.

The night prior, when Zuko escorted you to the evacuation area, the Gaang had received the full disclosure on your wounds, your history, and your goals. During your first healing session you were face-in-lap of the Fire Prince, as he received endless teasing. Katara, all though giving him the ‘all knowing’ look the entire time, was the only person to have his back. You lost so much blood you needed to stay as warm as possible until your body regulated, and what’s a better hot water bottle than a fire bender?

——

“Hey Sifu Hot Water Bottle!” Toph hollered down the hall, Zuko groaned. Knowing he will never be able to live this down, but was it worth having you nuzzle into his lap like a sick turtle duck? Absolutely.

“What, Toph.” He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms at the tiny earth bender.

“Shu and Katara are getting herbs so you should keep your princess company~” Toph grinned from ear to ear, knowing his reaction, even if she couldn’t feel it through the hardwood flooring.

Zuko’s cheeks flushed brightly at the comment, letting out a forced ‘groan’ in an attempt to get the better of the girl. He, however, quite liked the idea and rolled around options in his head to see if he could do anything for you without needing healer expertise. He decides to prepare tea. He remembered a recipe for a pain killer tea that his uncle had made for him, it tastes like crap but he knew it could help.

Walking up to your door, no problem, walking in? That’s another story. You were passed out, why is he suddenly so nervous? Then he heard it, well he heard you. He’s never heard such a terrifying savage sound escape someone, let alone a person of your stature. He lightly knocked on the door as not to surprise you but received a threat regardless, this was new. “WHAT DID YOU DO??” Toph whisper yells from down the hall, Zuko not wanting to give up his spot, while not disturbing you he throws his hands in front of his chest indicating ‘I don’t fucking know’ quickly remembering she’s blind.

As if saved by the bell, Shu and Katara rushed up the hall to your room, “I didn’t wake her, I got here after the roar.” Zuko whispers before they open the door. He sees your bandaged body and has the desire to help but decides it’s best to stay out of the way. His gold eyes meet your own (E/C) eyes, causing him to remember the night prior, a blush dusts his face and he looks down.

Shu and Katara enter the room, leaving Zuko in the hall. “In or out, princeling.” You state dryly. He decides to walk in and sit against the wall, opposite to your brother and the water tribe girl. Setting down the tea pot he prepared. You can feel warmth radiating from him, Fire bending perks, you noted. “Someone help me into an upright position…please.” Your tone changes, almost begging for help. You’re tired and in pain and in need of answers. Zuko and Shu both gently help you lift yourself from laying on your chest to sitting upright. Zuko grateful for the bandages looks into his hands after letting go of you. Katara hands you a cup of tea. You look between the healer and Shu, “So… I barely remember anything after the battle at the circus, please fill me in..” You take a sip of tea without even flinching at the taste, to Zuko’s surprise.

“What?? What’s the last thing you remember?” Katara seems mind blown by the idea and Zuko looks as if he’s the one who lost too much blood.

You sip your tea slowly and tilting your head back and fourth trying to stitch together the memories. “Well, we trapped all the Fire Nation soldiers, Shu and I high-fived and that’s when things started getting hazy,” You stopped and tried to pull pieces to your mind, “I had said.. something to you guys and then my legs went weak and Zuko caught me.” You pointed at him, your ears turned red at the thought. “After that, nothing. Last time I blacked out that bad was in Omashu, like 2 years ago, and that was a party.” You ramble on, still a bit delirious from blood loss and medication.

Katara watches you, thinking over your condition. “Well, you did lose a lot of blood, if we knew sooner then maybe we could’ve done something.” She shakes her head and looks between the two boys before explaining the context of the night prior. She then comments that neither you or Shu gave goodbyes to anyone before you left, which she found weird.

You and Shu exchange looks, and erupt in laughter. To the shock of both Katara and Zuko, who found himself confused but smiling seeing you laugh. You groaned and held you sides, laughing hurt. “We’re circus kids, don’t worry about ‘goodbyes’ we have our means. Since we left them that means Auntie and Uncle are probably retiring.” You move your attention to your brother, “Did Uncle give you anything?” You finished your tea putting the cup down for a refill. You let a small shiver consume you.

“He gave me a box and told me to open it when your up and-or well,” He rolls his eyes. “Whatever that means.” He leans over and refills your glass.

“We’ll need that in the up coming war, so don’t lose it,” You seem back to you matter-a-fact like self. Looking back to Katara, “What’s the status on my wounds?” You ask, picking up your cup for another sip.

She sighs, “It should only take a couple more sessions for it to not hurt so bad and to get you up again” She looks at the ground almost in an ashamed way, she glances at Zuko briefly while choosing her words. “I wasn’t able to prevent the scarring, you will forever have a large scar that stretches from the middle of your back up your neck and down your shoulders to both your hands.”

The room is quiet from Katara statement, you can feel the tension from her words. Noting the look she sent the scarred prince but keeping a calm face you nod, “Well, that’ll look badass.” Taking another sip of tea, “I wonder if it’ll be a problem with Aangs training, Air Bending masters get tattoos, right?” You start thinking aloud. You shrug at the thought, “Well, either way, when can we get to the next healing session? Because I’m cold and everything hurts and I’m hungry, this tea is helping but I can’t eat in this condition.”

Katara smiles brightly at your quick resolve and ushers the boys out to start the healing session. Zuko was replaying how quickly you came to a resolve about your scar in his head not noticing Katara trying to get his attention. “Hey.” You snap your fingers close to his face, causing a small breeze. “Are you gonna watch or are you gonna leave? I have to strip for this.” Zuko’s face was immediately red at the thought of what you just said and stumble-ran out of your room. And so, your first session while awake starts. Followed by every curse word and obscenity you can imagine escaping your mouth. This isn’t healing, this is assault!

Due to the depth of the wounds and the concern of Katara, you had multiple ‘healing sessions’ throughout that day. The day following you were up and running again, for the most part. You found yourself mostly watching Zuko and Aang train, much to Zuko’s dismay but he took note of the a light blush that dusted your face and he redness of your ears when he took his shirt off. He started taking it off earlier in his matches with Aang to see if he can get a reading out of you. Your angelic poker face is not something he could win against. That small smile is constantly plastered on your face.(*1)

However much you enjoyed seeing him with his shirt off, you enjoyed studying their sparring session more than anything. Both Zuko and Aang had multiple different influences in their bending, there are time Zuko’s moves look like that of a water bender. You have never seen anything like it, however you’ve only ever practiced with Shu, an earth bender, so you weren’t one to talk. You asked Aang the occasional question about air bending basics. Things to practice so you can find the middle ground you needed to have control of your bending better. You sit on the patio while they trained practicing your control, letting Aang correct you when needed.

——

“What about bending? When can I start fully practicing that?” You ask Katara while making a fresh pot of jasmine tea, it’s one of your many favorites.

Katara hums at the question, “You should be okay for now. BUT!” She looks you in they eyes. “No heavy lifting, and no going past your limits. If you start feeling sore or exhausted you must take a break.” You almost spat at the statement but stifled your laughter, you’re an air bender. Is air heavy? You jokingly thought, knowing how hilarious that sounds.

“Awesome,” You cough to hide your ongoing laughter. “Can you help me then? I want to change to practice.”

Katara agreed and followed you to your room. She had tied your (H/C) hair back, neater than you’ve ever tied it. You’re still in full bandage but you have a halter top exposing your bandaged midriff, and your most comfortable short harem pants, you liked the way they hugged your hips and sat comfortably at your knees. You walk out barefoot to the training grounds to Toph, who almost hit you with a boulder. “Hey, lightfoot! At least make sure you have a presence for me, you could’ve been back in bed!” She scowled in your general direction, “Katara would’ve blamed me!” She huffed.

You make sure both feet are flat to the ground and walk to the girl, “Could you help me with something?” At Aangs references and Sokka’s bad memories you try to describe the Airball court and the type of game that was played in it. “If we make one out of stone you can ‘watch’ me and Aang play and it’ll give me good practice to handle my air bending without creating an actual tornado or by using my fans.” Toph rolled the idea around in her head, “If we get a fire proof ball we can get Zuko in on the game?” You further suggest.

Almost like a light bulb goes off in Toph’s head she lights up, “(Y/N)! You’re a genius!” She runs off to look for the ideal location.

You go find Aang, catching him before he starts his sparing session, “Hey, Aang!”

Aang sees you calling and perks up, “Hey (Y/N), what up?” The young nomad asks, meeting you halfway.

“Okay, so,” You clap your hands together holding them in front of your chin. “Can Airball be played with 3 goals or does it have to be 2?” Your (E/C) eyes are almost glowing at the question throwing the boy for a loop, you’re finally acting more like yourself again.

“Well, since Air Nomads are traditionally pacifists I’d say only 2 goals to avoid having 2 teams ganging up on 1 team.” He smiles remember the times he played back in the Southern Air Temple, then his brow knit. “Why do you ask?” (*2)

You smile putting your hand on his small shoulders, “I’m having Toph use her bending to build an Airball court so I can practice my bending and I thought it could give you and Zuko a different type of field to spar on.” That last part you made up on the spot but it is a valid option. Aangs face lights up, “Do you want to grab Zuko and show me the ropes?”

You both grab Zuko, and a random empty metal box from the vacation house. He begrudgingly follows, being pulled hand in hand by two Air Benders, what has my life come to? He thought to himself while not shaking off either hand so he can keep holding yours. Aang explains the game rules and how it’s played on the way.

You follow the noises of the court being built by Toph and you hear her call, “(Y/N)! What were you thinking to use for the ball??” You can see she had stone and river rock options behind her however you didn’t want to risk the damage to you or Zuko. (*3)

“How ‘bout this?” You hand her the metal box, “If you metal bent it to the shape of a ball we can leave it hollow so it’ll be easier to move for me as an ‘inexperienced’ air bender and for Zuko who will have to use his flames to actually propel it.”

You can see Toph physically frown, “Hey, I’m not an earth bender, and as much as I wouldn’t mind taking responsibility if he got hurt, throwing boulders at him is not in my job description.” You both laugh and Toph agrees. You suggest Aang and Zuko use the court first for training then you can get to the game.

Toph has lifted a platform to the height of the court, “You’re pretty good at staying balanced on moving boulders.” She comments.

“Yeah, well, having a giant but strong Earth Bender for a twin your whole life does wonders for your balance.” You joke, pushing your elbow into Toph who is trying to stifle a smile at the mention of Shu.

While watching the boys jump around so gracefully reminds you a lot of the circus. You feel a bit sad at the thought and Toph picks up on it. “What’s wrong, lightfoot?”

You don’t hate the new nickname as much as the others seem to hate theirs, you lean back a bit on the platform holding your knees to keep your balance. “I was trained in all sorts of circus and show performances, piano, guitar, gymnastics, acrobatics, juggling, tight rope walking, and contortionism-“

Toph would have spat out her drink if she had one, “YOU’RE A CONTORTIONIST?” She gaps at you causing Zuko to blush, losing his balance and Aang to give him a big stupid grin.

“Ah-well-“ You stammer, blushing hard because no one outside of the circus ever seemed to be interested in the things you trained in. “Ye-yeah I was trained in all sorts of things-“ You look down at your knees to avoid making eye contact with the boys and not wanting to look at Toph, regardless of her being blind. “Watching them dance around reminds me of home.” You chuckle sadly.

Toph talks your head off with all sorts of questions about the circus and what you can do, once your embarrassment subsides you find yourself passionately talking about it. Before you realize it, the boys are done sparring and Aang asks if you’re ready.

You nod and hop to the court, trading places with Zuko. You accidentally bump your shoulder with his arm causing him to grab your hand in case you slipped, sending a hot sensation up your arm from where he held you. You smile softly and embarrassed “Sorry.” You rub the the back of your neck and squeeze his hand.

He lets go quickly. “Ah, yeah.” He stammers, “It’s fine, (Y/N).” Shooting a subtly smile back. You blush loudly, realizing this is the first time he’s said your name to you. You scurry to get to the center of the court.

“S-sorry if this isn’t as great as the courts you had at home. My instructions were vague.” You tell Aang, he shakes his head with a smile, he doesn’t care he’s just excited to play. You practice spinning the make shift ball in a web of air. Before throwing the ball at Aangs hoop.

——

The game starts between (Y/N) and Aang, and Zuko can’t take his eyes off of you. You don’t look like someone who can’t control their bending. Just watching you spin, flip and dance around from post to post is like a choreographed show. Even when you throw or kick the ‘ball’ consumed by air. “So, when are you gonna ask her out, Sifu hot water bottle?” Toph snickers, getting a general idea of the game, enjoying it none the less.

“What? What are you talking about?” Zuko scowls at the girl who just sarcastically snaps her neck in his direction.

“Really? Dude, your attention is on her every move and reaction.” Toph cheers loudly for you, making you a bit embarrassed missing your footing. You slip off the beam you aimed for but you push off the side of it just to hop on the top of another, Aang claps saying you’re a natural. “See, your heart rate just spiked at a little slip. Just ask her out, the worst she can say is no right?” Toph shrugs suggestively, “Maybe she likes you back.”

Zuko scoff at these comments before actually thinking about them. “Shut up.” Toph laughed and punched him in the arm. “What was that for!”

Toph smiles, “Thats how I show affection.” Her face beamed as she moved to the ledge of where they sat and waved at the on coming footsteps.

——

Aang has 3 points on you and you haven’t even scored yet, to anyone else you’d say it’s fine, it’s the first time you’ve played. You on the other hand are fairly competitive, and according to Aang you seem to have the rules down. You have the ball in your hand now and decide to throw all cation to the wind, literally in this case. You air bend something close to a funnel weaving around the posts and throwing the ball into it. Your hand twirling lightly to keep it moving. This does not work as planned, as the funnel created so much momentum that the metal make shift ball flattens to the stone hoop. You gasp putting your hands on your temples, “Oh spirits!”

Aang laughs a little too hard, Toph laughs while grumbling about ‘all her hard work.’ Zuko lets out a chuckle, this embarrassed you but your glad he seems to be having fun watching the mess you call a match end. “That was great (Y/N)! I’ve never seen you have that much control with your bending!” You hear Shu say, you didn’t even realize the rest of the Gaang had made their way to watch.

“I was trying so hard to be delicate, agh why don’t I know how to be delicate!” You groan, “I couldn’t even make one shot!” Ruffling you’re hands in your hair.

“There’s the competitive little sister I know,” Shu snorts, you made a tiny ball of air at the tip or your finger and shot it at him, hitting him in the center of his forehead. You laugh anyway.

“I can control little things and big things with my bending, the in between is where it gets hard.” You stretch letting out a barely audible whimper from your burn wounds.

“Hey, that was a lot better than I remember from first time Aang made me and Katara play,” Sokka snorts.

The only one who heard your whimper was Zuko, but that’s because you never lost his attention. Which annoyed him to no end when you were unconscious, but now? He just felt lighter having you around. He couldn’t pin down why, maybe it was the way your laugh was contagious, or that you always knew how to say the right thing? Even when it wasn’t directed at him. Somehow your flaws made you more wonderful to him. Competitive? Generally sarcastic while sounding like an Angel? Even when you’re cranky he wants to be around you. He just liked it, a lot more than he anticipated. He thought at first he wanted to be more like you, now maybe it’s not that.

He let the thoughts run around his head as the Shu and Toph earth bend the platforms everyone was sitting on back into the ground. You head back with Aang, Zuko and Toph, who was dragging Shu by his hand, talking about the game and how to improve the court. Aang laughed explaining that it’s great for training but Airball posts were general made of soft woods, you face palm at that lack of knowledge. Letting out another small whimper from your wound. Zuko hesitates but decides to put one of his hand gently over top the biggest part of the wound. With his generally high internal temperature he figured the heat might help. Your back stiffens in surprise and he starts to pull away, you grab his forearm gently indicating that it’s okay and look over towards him. You mouth the words ‘Thank you,’ your general angelic poker face now replaced by something more relaxed and dusted with blush, you look away hoping he doesn’t notice that your ears turning red. He does.

——

Later that evening everyone was heading to bed, you were more sore than you let on but you weren’t tired. You’re finally starting to feel some energy come back to you after ‘working out’ today. You couldn’t do your normal stuff but you weren’t upset, understanding the situation. Katara was the last person you said good night to after she helped you bathe, you had your healing session in the water. Now with a fresh pot of jasmine tea you sat on the porch staring at the scenery, less than a week ago you lived such a hodgepodge lifestyle with the circus. Albeit this is temporary, you couldn’t imagine your life any other way at this point. You hear soft foot steps come from behind you, you pay no mind until you hear them speak. “You know, you should probably have a blanket or something with you, it’s cold in the evenings here.” It’s Zuko, you smile up at him and offer him tea. Seemingly ignoring his comment about the weather you pat your hand at the space near you, suggesting he sits.

He sits down and pours himself a glass, jasmine. His favorite, he wonders if you knew. “Jasmine tea is one of my favorites,” You say.

“Really?” He sips the tea, and watches you. Your seemingly angelic demeanor is gone, you look like you’re in your own world now.

“Well, actually I haven’t met a tea I didn’t enjoy.” You chuckle and hold the glass in your hands to keep yourself warm, you were relishing in the cold but for some reason now you craved warmth. Maybe since he pointed it out? You don’t think too long on it, you focus on your breathing. Aang taught you a special breathing technique that all Air Benders use to regulate their body temperature. “There is an older gentleman who would visit my aunt and uncle when our travel schedules aligned, he made the best tea.” You smile into your cup, “He’s the one who actually taught me how to make tea.” You chuckle, knowing you’re not nearly as good as him. A shiver overcame you.

You made him think of his Uncle Iroh, he has a lot of regrets to work through regarding that matter. Zuko looks down and adjusts the teapot, scooting closer to you after noticing your small shivers.

“You remind me of myself in a lot of ways.” You said, still taking in your surroundings. Zuko didn’t understand the statement, that was clear on his face when you glanced over to him, not realizing you’re start to lean towards his warm arm. “For an assortment of reasons.” You start to explain. “You always come off as super grumpy and quiet, but you’ve never seemed grumpy to me. Earlier you were the only one to notice I was sore. It felt amazing and honestly I was just grateful you didn’t make a scene about it.” Zuko thinks on this for a bit, realizing that the angelic demeanor you have is a facade, this was (Y/N), and outside of maybe your brother it seems like he’s the only one you’ve shown your true self to. Regardless of the reason, Zuko smiles softly.

Now realizing your arm is leaning up against his. “Great Spirits you’re warm!” You cover your mouth realizing how loud that might’ve been. You chuckle.

Zuko laughed quietly and leaned back into your arm, “Fire Bending perks.” He said, he felt embarrassed touching you earlier but for you to say it felt amazing? He blushed hard thinking about it, grateful for the night sky.

“I knew it.” You murmur playfully as you sip your tea.

You pull back from Zuko’s warmth to stretch, groaning.

He hesitates to ask, “Does it hurt?” He wants to touch you, maybe this fire in him is good for something.

You sit back next to him, maybe a little closer than before. Trying to consume his extra heat, “Of course it hurts, but the pain isn’t something to be bitter over.” You bump his leg with your knee at the comment.

Hesitantly he moves the arm pressing against you and leans on it now close behind you. Your arm now touching the side of his abdomen and his arm touching your back, with his hand on the floor. He doesn’t respond. You lean into his side thinking, “Yes, it was a terrible thing that happened to me, but there’s no changing it and the pain is temporary. Why should I be bitter about it? That only makes the aggressor look powerful.” You know you both have terrible scars, yes yours is bigger but yours isn’t on your face. You thought to yourself. “Those who attack people smaller or weaker than themselves are nothing but cowards.” You mumble. Zuko leans his side into you, as a sort of silent response. You stayed like this for sometime before deciding his warmth is making you sleepy. “Has anyone ever told you, you make people sleepy?” You yawn at him.

A smirk raises to one side of his mouth, “Just once,” Remembering your face nuzzling into his lap the night you collapsed.

You raise an eyebrow but don’t question him, you smile though. “Well here’s a second, your natural warmth is cozy and I’m getting sleepy.” You got up to head to your room, when Zuko gently grabs your bandage covered fingers.

“I-uh, usually have a hard time sleeping,” He admits. “If you ever have a hard time sleeping you can come sit with me.” He was looking at your hands sadly, as if they received the worse kind of treatment.

You giggle, knowing you’re always out here before him. You squat down to his level from standing and give him a soft smile, “I naturally don’t sleep much so you can always come get me if you’re lonely.” You squeeze the hand that’s still holding your fingers before making your way to your room. Your skin is buzzing from where his heat once was. “You know where to find me.” You flick your hand up in a lazy peace sign.

——

At lunch the next day Toph and Sokka were trying to figure out who was the oldest twin. “Seriously, who’s the oldest.” You and Shu move in unison looking from each other to Sokka.

“Yeah! You keep calling each other older or younger! What’s the deal.” Toph pouted next to Shu, as she continued eating.

You twins laughed, “Ancient family secret.” You both said.

“Come on, Toph!” Sokka continues, “One of them has to be lying!” The two started to bicker. Suki and Aang can’t stop laughing from you and Shu doing and saying everything in unison, from blinking to eating. This was something the two of you had perfected at a very young age.

You and Shu glance at Aang, “You okay, Sifu Twinkle Toes?” You both go, the room erupted in laughter.

——

The days continued like this. Aang would give you something to practice, you started training with Toph or Katara. Shu and Toph started to trade training tips on metal and magma bending or would practice sand bending together on the beach. You had your healing sessions and a bath afterwards and once the sun was down and everyone was off to bed you started spending your evenings with Zuko.

You always seem to be waiting for him, you decided rather than staying awake in your room to just sit on the patio. Part of you didn’t want to wait to see if Zuko would actually come find you. You heard him walk up on cue, “Tonight’s tea is chamomile.” You say tilting your head towards him. He wore just a shirt and loose shorts, you imagine these are his pajamas.

He smiled and sat in the same position he had the night prior, arm around your back hand on the floor and the side of his abdomen pressing firmly against you. You poured him a cup this time. The two of you would talk for sometime before retiring to bed.

——

One night Zuko found his way to the patio and you weren’t there, he waited where he usually sat with you for some time before he realized the tea pot was gone. He walked to your room, lightly knocking before opening the door. You weren’t there. A sort of panic washed over him, he decided to look around for you before alerting anyone you were gone. Zuko walked down to the beach when he found foot prints, a sigh of relief left him when he found you sitting in the sand. Knees pulled to your chest, face down, cold tea pot and cup sitting next to you. He watched you for sometime before deciding to walk up. “So this is where you’ve been.”

A small sniffle comes out as you wipe your face, “Ah- Yeah.. Sorry..” You force an awkward chuckle. “I didn’t mean to worry you.” You didn’t look at him, he wasn’t sure you were looking at anything when you finished wiping your eyes.

Zuko sat down beside you, he wasn’t good at comforting people. He tried to think of something his uncle would say if he knew you. “My uncle told me once, that sometimes the best way to solve your own problems is to help someone else.” He spoke quietly, not really sure how to help. “I don’t really know how to comfort people but if there’s anything you need, you can ask..”

A small smile made its way to your face, you were pretty sure he had no idea what that statement meant. “I just uh-“ You looked up at the sky, “I feel guilty. And shameful.” You mutter. You could tell he was confused by this statement but you didn’t say anything for sometime. “You heard my families history, Jesa had an excuse. Sure it wasn’t a good excuse but..” You trailed on. Your voice was getting louder and more shaken with every word. “I was always so ashamed of my bending because it put my family in danger. I was ashamed that my family didn’t fight to defend the air nomads!” The air started stirring aggressively around the two of you. Tears started bubbling up in your eyes again and you pushed yourself from the ground. Zuko grabbed at your hand. You roared at the ocean in front of you, tears streaming freely down your cheeks, bending so much force in frustration waves flew up high before crashing down as you fell on your knees in front of Zuko.

His eyes wide, jaw slacked at the raw power you possessed. He’s never seen Aang use his air bending in such an aggressive manner. You were squeezing his hand, this pulled his attention from what you had just done. He squeezed your hand back before gently pulling on it, coercing you to come closer. You did, you ended up in his lap. You were between his legs that wrapped around you, your knees pulled up, leaning your side and head against his chest. He wrapped both arms around your waist and rested his chin your head. Zuko hushed you until you calmed, and the air around you two had settled into the stale ocean breeze.

His warmth calmed you, he didn’t have to say anything. You’re frustrated with yourself, you didn’t realize you’d bottled up so much. You buried your face into Zuko’s chest, “I feel guilty for being..-“ You hesitated, “For being so happy. Knowing my people have been eradicated.” This stings Zuko’s heart and he just holds you tighter.

Zuko’s history plays through his head, finally understanding what you had meant the other night. ‘You remind me a lot of myself’ you told him. He tilted his head down, pressing his nose and mouth against the top of your head. “Maybe that’s why your family made it. Because of what-“ He thinks of how to put it, “the Fire Nation did to your people. So that you could be happy, so that you could be here and build your people up again when this horrible war ends.” He didn’t know, but you were quiet.

You moved and held onto his bicep that rested between your thighs and bust, you’re both tired and wide awake now. (Y/N) never thought about it that way. That maybe being here, after everything, was your destiny and not just a selfish desire. You squeeze his arm softly, “Thank you, Zuko.” You mumble.

Neither of you said anything for the rest of the night. Not when Zuko heated up the tea pot and your glass, not about you staying in his lap. You both had the nights events and words playing in your head. Zuko realized what his uncle told him was right. Zuko told you what he needed to hear.

——

Zuko was always the last to sleep and the first awake, these were old habits he couldn’t break. However he didn’t mind it so much since (Y/N) has been around, you’re like him. Last to sleep first to rise, at first it was a constant surprise as you’d daze around the kitchen making tea at dawn. Your pajamas leaving very little to the imagination. A short but loose fitting top and loose shorts. Your bandages helped him not look like a bigger fool than he felt he already was. You never teased him about it though, you always just offered a smile. This house was starting to feel like a home again. The early mornings and the evenings were becoming his favorite time, these were times when you were yourself and when you leaned on him. You did this more than he mentally prepared himself for, the first time you did it was when Zuko was preparing tea for the morning, you lazily made your way into the kitchen and poked around him realizing he was doing what you had planned to start. You ended up leaning against his back while holding on to the edge of his shirt and commenting about the warmth before moving to pour yourself a glass of tea. The mornings that followed that one he started to notice you’d seek him out in a tired stupor. Clinging onto him regardless of what he’s doing, warming yourself up for the day, before making yourself a glass of tea and walking off.

He’d watch your beautiful figure laze around with your tea until you found the patio and sat down. You always manage to look back at him with your bedroom eyes expectantly. This always causes him to blush but he makes his way over and sits with you. He’ll watch you from the corner of his eye as you start to wake up.

He missed your presence during his training sessions but was always able to catch a glimpse as you train with one of the girls. Your control over your bending was exceedingly better than it had been when you first met.

“So. Sifu ‘hot water bottle’” A voice says mockingly. Zuko scowls and tears his attention from you and turns around to see Shu. His expression quickly dropped, not wanting to get on your brothers bad side.

“Uh, hey Shu.” Zuko says nervously, “What’s up?” He starts rubbing the back of his neck trying to temporarily purge what happened at the beach from his mind, you letting him wrap you up in his arms and lap was engraved in him. Shu waves him over to follow him.

He follows him until they’re out of your line of sight, “If you like my sister you’re going to have to fight me first.” Shu states pointedly and crosses his arms.

“Wait-wait. What??” Zuko throws up his hands, “I don’t want to fight you, we’re uh,” He stops at the word but shakes his head. “We’re friends, sparring is one thing but I can’t just fight you.”

Your brother flares at him and slides his foot, bending just enough earth under Zuko to knock him down. “I’m not just going to hand my sister, whose like,” He throws his hands up. “An international secret! To someone who can’t protect her!” Shu hisses. This is fair.

His glare drops and he offers a hand to help Zuko up, confused at the quick demeanor change until he hears you talking to Katara and walk past the scene. “Think about it.” Shu quietly hisses before walking away. Zuko stood there dumbfounded for quite some time.

“Your healing session today will be the last for your arms,” Katara tell you. “Your back will take some time but unless the wound gets struck again you shouldn’t have to worry about it opening on its own.” This was the best news you’ve had in some time. You can start actually exercising again.

That night, Zuko was the first to the patio. You stared at him for a bit, something about the moonlight hitting him makes your stomach flop about. You finally walk towards him, realizing he looks uncomfortable. “You okay?” You ask as you sit down beside him.

He looks over at you, he doesn’t say anything but just stares. Examining the lack of bandages on your arms and the concern in your face before speaking. “I’m trying to take all the right steps to make right all the wrongs I’ve done.” He looks away.

You keep looking at him, the gaang has already told you about their history with Zuko when you and Shu asked them how Team Avatar came to be. Zuko hands you a cup of tea before continuing, “I did some- a lot.. of awful things that I can’t take back. I can’t even apologize to my uncle for betraying him.” This statement causes Zuko to put his face in his hands. “He probably hates me now.”

That statement stings you, you’ve only ever seen the Team Avatar version of Zuko. You hesitate but decide to put your hand on his back, running your hand up and down his spine, making shapes with your fingers. “That might be true,” He flinched at this comment. “However. If you can get a group of people you literally tried to kill, to actually like and appreciate you and to care about you. I doubt it’ll be too difficult to get someone who’s always loved you to forgive your actions.” You smile and lean your head on his shoulder still rubbing his back. “From what you’ve told me and what I’ve heard from the others I can imagine he’ll be so proud of you for doing the right thing.”

Zuko doesn’t reply for sometime, replaying the words in his head. Replaying what he told you at the beach. He did do the right thing, he has changed. But what if it’s too late, he wants to ask but he already feels foolish for his actions. He lifts his head and looks over at you before resting his cheek on your head. “You don’t think it’ll be too late to apologize?”

You straighten up and smile at him, and cup his face with your hands. “If you truly mean it when you apologize then it’ll never be too late.” You leave a small kiss on his cheek and then smile at him. Zuko pulls you into him, holding one hand firmly around your shoulders and one around your waist. This caused you to gasp but he doesn’t let go. He needs this, you think. Hugging him back with your arms around his neck and a hand brushing his hair with your fingers till he’s ready to let go.

As much as he needed a hug the second he hugged you he was extremely embarrassed. Embarrassed that he wanted to pull you into his lap again and not let go. Especially after you kissed his cheek. He feared letting go as you would see his blushing face. Not realizing you can feel his blush as his body temperature rose. It wasn’t until you held him back and pet his hair that he started to savor the moment, engraving it in his mind before letting go and looking at the sky. You watched him carefully, you wanted to kiss him more and find all the reasons as to why everything would be fine. “Your brother told me I have to fight him.” Your face snapped away from his, you knew what this meant, but why would Shu say that to Zuko? Why wouldn’t he talk to you first? Did he tell Zuko how you feel? You were panicking.

(Y/N)’s ear are red, Zuko noticed. She seems embarrassed. Was she embarrassed of Zuko? Was it her brother? Or something else? He couldn’t get a read from you, “D-Did he say anything, ah,” You started. “About me, uh, when he did..?” You couldn’t make eye contact with him.

His face turned bright red, yes the whole thing was about you! He’s thinks your embarrassed about your brothers actions. “Well, ah,” he stammers, “I kind of, uhm, brought it upon myself.” You both look away from each other. “He told me to think about it.”

You sigh putting your red face in your hands, “I am so sorry.” You groan. Embarrassed that you thought this was about you.

“No no it’s not your fault!” He stammers, “We should uh, we should head to bed.” You nod at him and take the hand he offers to get up.

Your fingers touch his as he walks you to your room, “Uhm. Good night Zuko.” You smile and whisper to him as you separate, he watches you as you disappear behind your door. He wants to follow you in, realizing what you mean to him.

When he got to his room he closed and slid down the door. “Good night, (Y/N).” He sighed, “What am I going to do.”

——

A/N: Holy smokes, guys! We made it through Part 1! If you’d like to be tagged in this series please feel free to message me or comment on this post! Here are my starred notes: (*1) Imagine that customer service face we all have, you know the one (*2) When I wrote this line for Aang it ended up destroying my whole plan for the rest of this scene because I was like “Shit Aang would actually say something like that” (*3) Did you know river rocks explode when they get too hot?

Tag List:

@coalsmind @bucky-blogs @fanficflaneuse @cutiepoo16 @eridanuswave @grapesauze @theblueslytherin @coolpenguingoddess @royahllty @whalerus @shewritesseashells @lammello @ditu-m9 @kryptidkova @gxrleexis-arctic-monks

#a:tla #a:tla x reader #a:tla fanfiction #atla #atla x reader #atla fanfic #zuko #prince zuko #zuko x reader #prince zuko x reader #zuko imagine #avatar #avatar the last airbender #avatar the last air bender fanfic #fanfic #fan fiction #fan fic #zuko fanfic #first fanfic

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lilmissbeanie · 4 years

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Hot Melted Chocolate

Haikyuu - Toru Oikawa, Atsumu Miya, Tetsuro Kuroo and Koutarou Bokuto.

Genre ~ NSFW kinda!

Word Count - 2.1k

This was a legit question I was asked at the weekend from my best friends boyfriend and she wouldn’t answer him so he asked me. I felt it would be funny to make it that the Haikyuu boys ask there S/O.

Posted 22/07/20

~ Toru Oikawa ~

The practice had been cancelled last minute, by last-minute, literally, the whole team was stood in the gym staring where the coach had just flown out the door yelling an apology and something about his daughter and a grandchild over his shoulder.

(Y/N) started to giggle, being the captain's girlfriend she went to most of his practices, and they always seemed to turn up with his arm wrapped around her shoulder, and her's was around his waist. "Animal Crossing anyone?"

This had become a common habit for the Seijoh team, ever since Animal Crossing New Horizon came out, (Y/N) had got it and then talked Oikawa into getting it, which didn't take long one flutter of her eyelashes and he was putty in her hands. Which in turn cause Oikawa, to convince Iwaizumi and the rest of the team to get it now, Mad dog straight out refused to get it.

Now everyone was lounging around the gym, playing Animal Crossing, everyone visiting each other islands, going fishing or doing some decorating. Oikawa had his head resting in (Y/N) lap as she leant against the wall. The room was silent apart from the odd, quiet cheering - Yes!

"Baby girl?"

"Yea pretty boy?"

"What does it feel like to get cummed in?" Everyone's heads flicked up from the switches to stare at Oikawa, their faces held the look of you did not just ask your girlfriend that. The fact that (Y/N) didn't even bat an eyelid at her boyfriend comment, they just guess that she was used to the shit he spews. Iwaizumi was furious at his best friend, looking like he was about to hit or launch his own switch at Oikawa in response to the question he just asked.

"Remember that time we had those shot of hot melted chocolate?" She was actually giving him a response. Not once had the couples eye's moved from their screen as they spoke.

"Yea,"

"Just like that and it's the same for when you swallow it too."

"Thanks, babe."

"Anytime" Leaning down she planted a kiss on his forehead before returning to running along the beach looking for sharks.

Everyone's jaw dropped, they thought that (Y/N) was a sweet and innocent girl they were not expecting that to come out of her mouth.

"Oh god, there's two of them?" Iwaizumi gaped as he stared at them, he had never heard the girl even make a dirty joke. "I didn't realise that they were as bad as each other."

"They are really perfect for each other." Maki and Matsun mumbled at the same time. The poor first years were still staring in shock at the pair of them.

~ Atsumu Miya ~

It was one of those lazy days that Atsumu and (Y/N) just enjoying relaxing in the park, both of them sprawled out on the picnic blanket, Atsumu was led on, his back with his eyes closed enjoying the feeling of the sun on his face with (Y/N) snuggled into his side, her head on his chest, legs tangled with his with a book in hand. They had were joined by Osamu, Ginjima and Kosaku, those three were having a bit of kick about.

"Hey, gorgeous?" humming in response, her eyes never leaving the page, she felt him start to play with a strand of her hair, twirling it around his fingers.

"What does it feel like to be cummed in?"

"You seriously did not just ask her that! You are such a pig." Atsumu's eye's flickered open behind his sunglass at the sound of his twin brother voice who was hovering over the couple with their two friends. "I honestly do not see what you see in him (Y/N)."

"Don't feel like you have to answer him (Y/N)." Ginjima told her, with a worried look on his face, he was shocked at the fact she hadn't made a move to hit her boyfriend with her book, typically when he made inappropriate comments, she would either glare at him or slap him on the upside of his head." It's kinda like taking a shot of melted chocolate, while it's still warm. And yes before you ask it is also like that when I swallow it too, but yours is salty." She replied nonchalantly, her eyesight still not breaking away from the book.

"Never mind, I now see why you're together," Osamu said as he walked away with the other two boys shaking their heads, that was more information than they need to know about their setter and his girlfriend's sex life. (Y/N) and Atsumu laughed as they watched their friends walk away with grossed out faces.

"Can you grab us a drink too, please!" Atsumu called after as he noticed there were walking towards small boat shed looking cafe.

"No, if you two disgusting freaks want one, you can get your own," Kosaku yelled back.

"Their reaction was priceless. Thank's baby." Atsumu planned a kiss on her head, before laying back down again and closing his eyes.

~ Tetsuro Kuroo ~

The rain was pouring down, while Kuroo, (Y/N) and Kenma, were all in the library finishing off their homework for the week. Well more like Kuroo and (Y/N) were Kenma was sat playing one of his many video games. It was dead silent apart from the tapping of buttons coming from Kenma and the odd exchanging of comparing answers or questions between the couple with the sound of ones scratching against paper.

Grabbing her carton of orange juice, (Y/N) stabbing the straw in through the foil before, placing it in a convenient place so she could sip it without the need for much movement or distraction from her homework. Going back to the math problem in front of her. Kuroo, on the other hand, had decided he was dying to cause some mischief and to get a reaction out of his best friend who was far too engrossed in his game and he decided that while he was at it, he would throw his girlfriend into the mix as well.

"Kitten?"

"yea?" Leaning forward to take a sip of orange juice.

"What does it feel like when I cum in you?" Which of course instantly caused (Y/N) to chock on the liquid, patting her chest as she coughed and sputtered while Kuroo helped while rubbing her back and Kenma eyes to flick in the direction of best friend with an eyebrow raised that read really?

"I'm sorry, what did you just say?" (Y/N) asked double checking she had heard him right as a blush forming over her cheeks, as she turned to look at Kuroo.

"What does it feel like when I cum in you? And while we are at how does, it tastes and feels when you swallow my cum too?" He had the most serious look on his face, but she could see the mischief swirling around in his eyes.

She was going to kill him, it's not like she wasn't used to these question, he often asked them as random times catching her off guard, and it was usually when it was just the two of them, and she was more than happy to answer his questions.

"So?"

"You seriously want me to answer that with your best friend sat in front of us?" Kenma's eyes were flicking between the couple, watching them, he knew Kuroo did this on purpose, and the glare in (Y/N) eyes made him chuckle.

"Dead serious kitten." Kuroo leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, the prominent smug smirk on his face.

"Fine." (Y/N) grumbled, leaning back in her own chair picking up her carton of orange juice.

"You know, it is like when you have hot melted chocolate? In both sense of you cumming in me and when I sallow it. Taste-wise it's kinda a mix between salty and sweet since you've started eating more pineapple." She replied sipping her orange juice to attempt to hide her embarrassment.

Kenma's jaw drop he was not expecting (Y/N) to actually answer the question. Kuroo had caught the look on Kenma's face causing him to be smugger than before while his girlfriend's blush spread across her cheeks and down her neck she could not believe that she had just said that in front of Kenma.

"I love you." Kuroo chuckles as he placed a kiss on her lips.

~ Koutarou Bokuto ~

It was the summer training camp and (Y/N) being one of the managers for the Fukurodani team, was watching her owl-like boyfriend train with Hinata from Karsuno, teaching him how to do feints, she thought it was cute how much Hinata admires her boyfriend, and it was giving the boy an ego boost not that he really needed one. Akaashi had been setting up set's for the boys, and they were also joined by Kuroo, Lev and Tsukishima as the practised blocks. (Y/N) didn't catch the look Kuroo and Bokuto had shared then glanced her way.

Kuroo had mentioned to his other best friend what he had asked his girlfriend in the library last week and was dying to see the reaction that Bokuto would get out of his girlfriend.

"Hey! Hey! Hey! Little bird?"

"What's up Kou?" She grinned at the nickname he had to bestow upon her when they first started dating.

"I have a question for you," She smiled brightly at him and nodded at him really not expecting what comes next. "Sooooo, you know when we have sex-" her smile drop and her eyes changing warning him to stop "- what does it feel like when I cum in you?"

He didn't even have time to react at the ball flying his direction, hitting him square in the chest, his girlfriend was an ex-volleyball player, and she still had one powerful and quick-serve with damn good aim. Kuroo was in absolute stitches bending over holding his stomach, akaashi, had a slight smile on knowing damn well his captain deserved that, Tsukkishima covered his mouth to stop the laughter coming out of his mouth and pour little Hinata and, well not so little, Lev, were confused.

"To answer your question, like hot melted chocolate and before you ask, I know what you are going to ask next. Yes, it feels the same that way, and it's salty."

She glared at her boyfriend, (Y/N) also knew if she didn't answer him now, he would keep nagging her till she did. Everyone looked impressed with the fact that the girl actually answered but pour Hinata looked even more lost, you could see the cogs turn in his head as he tried to work out what she meant by hot melted chocolate and salty. (Y/N) walked out the gym, calling behind her she expects Bokuto to clear up by himself after that little stunt and if anyone helped him, she would have them running drills.

~ EXTRA ~

Back in Karasuno, the team was training after the week at the summer camp in Tokyo. Suga's girlfriend, Kyoko and Yachi had come up to the school to bring them some lunch and snacks as the boys had been training hard all day.

"Hey, guys! Lunch is here! There are rice boxes for everyone, then for pudding, there is some mix of fruits and melted chocolate!" (Y/N) waved the sealed container around containing the melted chocolate.

There were two screams from the other side of the room. Everyone's heads flicked at lighting fast speed, shocked that they didn't get whiplash at the speed, over by the net was Kageyama and Hinata hugging each other with fear on their faces. Tsukki put two and two together for why there are reacting like that causing him to crack up laughing.

"What the hell is wrong with you two? Kyoko, Yachi and (Y/N) have been kind enough to bring us food, and you guys are acting like it's poisoned." Daichi glared at the two boys.

"Unclean!" Hinata yelled again, still look petrified as he pointed at the box of melted chocolate in (Y/N) hands.

"What is he on about?" Noya asked, confused before looking at Tsukki who was still laughing. "Tsukishima do you know what's going on?"

Nodding, Tsukki wiped the tears away from his eyes. "Last week when we were playing with Bokuto, Kuroo, Akaashi and Lev. Bokuto asked his girlfriend what it felt like when he came in her, and she explained to have the feel of hot melted chocolate. Kuroo then proceeds to explain to Hinata after she had left and Hinata must have told the king." causing Tsukki to start laughing all over again.

"I'm going to kill Bokuto and Kuroo," Daichi complained rubbing his temples while he watched Tanaka and Noya join in with the laughter, the others clearly trying to keep it contained, Kyoko was attempting to help Yachi get over the shock and Suga appeared next to his own girlfriend and sending a cheeky look at (Y/N).

"Don't you dare. Don't you even think about it, Koshi Sugawara."

©️ All content belongs to lilmissbeanie, do not copy, edit, repost or translate.

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tatooedlaura-blog · 4 years

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Geometry of a Triangle

I found a few hours of quiet time and what better way to spend them than to revisit that beautiful thing called, “Triangle” ...

It’s a standalone and I’ll be tagging @today-in-fic ...

&&&&&&&&&&

“Oh, brother.”

With that statement, she pushed herself off the bed rail and turned, click-heeling back into the hallway, running into a clump of boss and unwashed boys, “how is he?”

“He’s delusional.” Moving past them, she hit the down button on the elevator when she reached it, “he needs time, rest, and probably another CT scan, which I will schedule for him once I get downstairs.”

The four of them, following like obedient dogs, got on the elevator with her and just as the doors were closing, “damn it. I forgot my keys in there.” Recklessly flinging her arm in between twin metal deathtraps, then stepping out once they’d reopened, “why don’t you guys go and I’ll call you if anything changes?”

Not one to question her, ever, they said their goodbyes and disappeared. Once the elevator had definitely left the floor, she took a deep breath, wondering if collapse against the wall would be appropriate given the amount of stress still choking her system. Why was he always trying to kill her, inadvertently mind you, but still, every time he left his apartment, he put her in panic mode.

She really fucking hated panic mode.

Taking a minute to collect herself while staring out the window at absolutely no view at all, hospital expansion building blocking the view of what was probably a very pretty neighborhood.

Whatever.

She took her time going back to his room, companions not fluttering around her, peppering with questions, irritating her with endless regurgitation, explanation and exaltation of the exploits of her thankfully not drowned partner.

And Skinner just needed to go away in general; she’d kissed him in the elevator and now couldn’t look him in the eye given mortal embarrassment.

She needed a vacation.

&&&&&&&&&

Finally, many deep breaths later, she was back at his door, numbered 342 in the grand scheme but from her last count, it was hospital room number 206, give or take; she also counted emergency room curtained off areas as rooms so her count might be a little skewed.

Walking back in without knocking, she thought maybe he’d be asleep and she could do her thing and go home to warm bed, fragrant bath, cup of hot chocolate, not necessarily in that order. He wasn’t asleep, however, instead looking up at her, tracking her as she carefully shut the door, turned, crossed her arms, “I was beginning to wonder if you’d be back.”

“I had to get rid of them before I could …” her voice cracked here, tears rushing to the surface, falling freely down her cheeks in under a second.

Mulder tried to get up but was forced back down by gravity and dizziness, so instead, he reached out his hand, “come here. I’m sorry. I hate seeing you cry.”

“If you wouldn’t do such stupid things, maybe I wouldn’t have to cry.” Swiping her face, the torrent already slowing to a trickle, she sniffed hard, “maybe you’re like a puppy. You need a good swat every now and then in order to learn not to put me through this crap.”

Beside his bed by now, he reached his hand out, hooking it in the pocket of her jacket, “I have never intentionally set out to make you cry. I swear.”

Growling at him, she dried her face one last time with her fingers, looking down at him, “did you really say earlier that you loved me? How many drugs are you on, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“You should know. You’re the doc, doc.”

Moving to see his chart again, she zoned in on the narcotics area, perusing then sifting through her memory, “looks like plenty. More than enough to say all kinds of incriminating things.”

Looking at her sheepishly, “did I really say ‘I love you’ though?”

And her heart jumped then sank, bobbed back to the surface and sank again, “you don’t remember?” He looked innocently guilty and she tilted her head at him, “I won’t hold it against you then.”

“Thanks.”

Moving back to his side, she pulled the chair over, slotting her feet in the undercarriage of the bed and settling back, head comfortable after a moment, Mulder’s fingers wiggling in her direction, his discreet invite to hold his hand while they fell asleep.

She both hated and loved their routines.

“I really am sorry I always make you cry.”

“I can’t imagine this life without you, Mulder, such as it is.” Thinking back to all the times she’d cried for him, both inside and out, “I have often wished that my stress levels weren’t congruent to the production of my tear ducts but they are and we have both learned to live with that.”

“I still hate that I make you cry.”

Squeezing his fingers, “go to sleep, Mulder. I’ll see you when you wake up.”

&&&&&&&&

Ten minutes later, she expected him to be deep in dreamland but looking in his direction once she realized she didn’t hear his whistle-snoring nose, she saw his eyes open, staring intently at her, studying form and function of his Scully, “why aren’t you asleep yet?”

“Trying to ignore my headache while I think about a few things.”

Dusk was dropping outside, their room growing dim and soft, her voice quiet across the vast region between them, “what kinds of things?”

“Nazis and Thor’s hammer and shiny red dresses.”

He must be wandering his delusions again and she figured, why not wade in with him, “were the Nazis wearing the red dresses?”

“No, thank God but you were.”

“I was wearing a shiny red dress? How did I look?”

“If I answer that question, you’ll hit me again.”

Maybe she shouldn’t play into his medication after all, “well, why don’t you go to sleep and dream about things and tomorrow, we will get another head scan.”

The side of his face ached from her 1939 clenched fist and deciding to go for broke, given he knew she’d chock up anything he said to drug-addled haze, “your hair was slicked back, pin-curled, perfect even as we ran up and down the halls, thwarting Nazis and trying to find a way to get me home.” Continuing when all she did was tilt her head, listening with both ear and he hoped, heart, “you saved the world in a knee-length dark red dress and heels and,” pinpoint focus on her darkening blue eyes, “you looked more beautiful than I’ve ever deserved to see you.”

Oh, she could so easily be dragged into his delirium … dream … reality …

This was headed to a bad place and she needed to stop the train before she got fully onboard, believing every last word falling from his lips, “I always thought I looked pretty good in my pajama pants and Yosemite Sam t-shirt.”

“That’s my t-shirt, by the way.”

Returning to lightness even as her heart pounded unexpectedly in her chest, “you say yours, I say mine. I keep it. We both win.”

“How do I win?”

Was she really going to say it?

“Because you get to see me in it.”

She said it.

“If I ever find that red dress, Scully, I’m buying it and you’re wearing it and we’re going out on the town to make sure everyone sees you in it. There’ll be so many guys falling at your feet, you won’t know what to do.”

“So, I’ll just stand there and let them swoon?”

“And then you’ll come home with me.”

She felt the blush blooming across her chest and crawling up her face, “you need to go to sleep, Mulder. As both your doctor and your …” she hesitated without understanding why, partner seeming cold, friend seeming inadequate, anything other distinction making her blush even more, “you need to get some sleep, Mulder and so do I.” Standing quickly, squeaking chair legs against tile, “I should probably go. I’ll pick up some clothes for you and bring them back tomorrow when they release you, okay?”

She still hadn’t let go of his hand.

Odd.

In fact, her fingers were firmly joined with his, zippered closed, thumb stroking thumb.

Very odd.

“Hey, Scully,” tugging her hand so she moved towards him, she leaned across the bar of the bed once again.

“Yes?”

“Be with me tonight. Spring me from this place and take me home and hover and feed me meds and check my stitches and just … be with me.”

Another ‘oh, brother’ should have risen up her throat, fallen to his ears but instead, she leaned in even more, “let me go find a doctor.”

&&&&&&&&&&&&

There was finagling and promising and coercion to the highest levels but in the end, she helped him off the elevator and down the hall to his apartment, setting him on the bed, taking in his weary eyes, his pale face, “you look terrible.”

Not able to argue such a valid point, “could you find me something to wear, please? I feel like I’m about to die or at the very least, begin having hallucinations of pink elephants playing poker in the corner.”

Not about to dispute the obvious, pink elephants fairly likely at this point in their day, “can you sit up for a second or do you want to lay down while I find things?”

Hands firmly gripping mattress edge, “I’ve got it. Just don’t leave.”

She’d return to that statement later on but for now, “I’ll be back.”

At the dresser, she pulled out stuff for both of them, missing the Yosemite Sam shirt but happy with her find of ‘Sit on it, Potsie’ black, frayed glory. Soon, she was back beside him, gently pulling his shirt over his head, wincing along with him when she passed the collar over his bruise-darkening eye. Pants weren’t too difficult, Scully holding his arm for balance while he dropped scrubs and pulled up ratty sweatpants, “remind me not to follow any ghosts ships in the near future.”

“No.”

He smiled as best he could but most of his energy and being was wrapped up in desperate need to lay down, go to sleep, rid his head of the terrible pounding that had wedged itself behind his eyes, “did you bring drugs home with you?”

“Several. What color do you want?”

“Rainbow me up, please? My head feels like it’s going to explode.”

Drugs swallowed, Scully changed – he would comment on her shirt at some point in the evening – and after tucking him in, she turned out the light but came back to his side, “I’m going to go sleep out on the couch, okay? Do you need anything?”

Even through pain and wavering reality, “be with me, remember? The couch is too far.” Indicating over his shoulder, eyes already closing for longer and longer intervals, “I have plenty of room behind me, softest mattress in the place, I promise.”

She could seriously just wait two minutes then go out to the couch, he’d never know but Scully being Scully, especially tonight, especially now, especially here, “okay but if you kick me in your sleep, I’m kicking back.”

Slurred, sleepy, “I’ll try not to kiss you in your sleep, promise.”

Nearly correcting him, she instead checked the front door locks one more time, then, incremental debate later, folded back the covers opposite him, sheets cool, pillow shockingly comfortable. She’ll admit it, she may have let out a slight, happy, back of the throat groan when her head sank down into it.

This pillow may have to go the way of Yosemite.

&&&&&&&&&&

Never expecting to fall asleep so quickly, she had no idea she had until she found herself blinking, eyes rolling and lids sticky. Concept of time had disappeared, clock telling her it was after 2 am but mind firmly believing she’d only been asleep for a few minutes. Wondering what had woken her, she turned to her other side, coming face to face with Mulder, still asleep but hand twitching, searching.

He must have touched her back while he moved and taking his wandering fingers, she was surprised when he bought them to his lips, kissing her knuckles, “I should have kissed you again after you hit me.”

Wondering if he was still dreaming, “Mulder?”

His eyes opened suddenly, wide awake like she’d never seen him, “You saved the world and I should have kissed you again.”

“You kissed me?”

Smiling, his eyes closed, drifting back to dreams, “and I want to do it again.”

Still back on the last statement, “you kissed me?” He answered with a deep sigh, sleep capturing the conversation in limbo and driving her forward, 2 am a thing of both beauty and shadow, she maneuvered to get her lips to his, a light brush, a tentative touch, a fleeting taste, “I love you, too, Mulder.”

#nazis and thors hammer and red dresses #even a triangle comes full circle in the end #msr #txf fanfic #x-files fanfic #MulderNScully #My writing

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babylooneytoonz · 4 years

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(A/N- Not my gif. Found this lovely one on Google and have no idea who it belongs to. Let me know if it's yours and I'll credit you.💕)

Warning(s) - ANGST, WAR & mentions of violence, character death.

Quick links- For those who haven't read the Prologue & Part 1, you will find all of them here.

Trip Mines & Broken Hearts [Tommy Shelby x Reader]

Part 2

It wasn't until weeks after that day you saw that blue eyed boy again.

It would have been a lie to say he didn't cross your mind once since then—

When you weren't treating casualties or you were curled in your bunker, your reading glasses plastered to your eyes and an old , tattered book that belonged to your elder brother rested against your thigh, you found yourself thinking of him, wondering if he was doing okay, if he was alive —

A part of you felt guilty— you should have thought of your brothers, prayed for their safety, prayed for the war to get over so you could all go back home, but you couldn't stop yourself from wondering if Thomas Shelby had made it so far, since the last time you saw him.

A few miles away, in a basement of an almost crumbling building, the soldiers of the 8th Service Battalion were trapped. The only exit was blocked by piles of rocks that had come crashing down when a trip mine had exploded, taking the life of a fellow comrade. Tommy stood by the stone wall, leaning against it, holding his body for support, a lit fag in his fingers, his lips belting out smoke as he exhaled. Right in front of his eyes, three of his comrades, which included his brother John, were digging with their bare hands, trying to burrow a hole into the ground so they could get into the other side and get out of this godforsaken place.

Tommy's fingernails were soaked with blood and dust, his nails almost broken for he had been the one trying to dig with his bare hands an hour back and had only taken a break to take a little rest. His observant eyes scanned through the men that were tumbling in and out of his vision, yelling amongst themselves, talking or trying to come up with a plan but his eyes were fixed on one person— Jasper.

He looked just like you, his raven black hair was just the same shade as yours, only shorter. If you decided to one day chop off your locks, you'd pass as his twin. Tommy dumped the cigarette butt to the ground and at the same time, his hand flew to his neck, clasping his fingers against the locket that you had given him. It felt warm against his palm and he knew he should have given it back to the black haired boy in front of his eyes.

Maybe this was meant to be his lucky charm, a token of love from his sister, something that was meant to protect his life. Although he wanted to go and talk to the black haired boy, a part of him did not want to part with the memory he had of you— a part of you that was now clinging to his neck.

Maybe it was his selfishness, or it was just his thoughts of you, the fact that you occupied a corner of his mind more than anyone these days, he bit on his lip hard and kept his mouth shut. He will talk to Jasper, but later — once they were out of this place.

And they did.

Only how—

It was almost twelve hours; the men were hungry, starving beyond their wits and the basement smelt of piss, sweat and blood. Finally, a yell rang through the lads' ears. A hole had finally been dug. They were free— they could go to the other side now. One by one, the men started crawling through the hole and their heads emerged on the other side of the basement, where bright moonlight shone though the glass windows, providing them with respite. There the door was, right in front of their eyes; all they had to do was get out and breathe the fresh air. Anything was better than the stale, bloody air in this place.

Tommy was speaking to his brother when from the corner of his eye, he saw three boys, one of them (Y/N)'s brother. They walked up to the front door, placing their hand on the doorknob, they pulled it open when suddenly, there was a click.

"DUCK!" Tommy screamed at the top of his lungs, as loud as he could, jumping to the ground, shielding himself underneath a table when a loud explosion happened and the screams of the three men in front of him drowned into his ears. His palm flew to the locket that dangled from his neck and a sudden guilt hit him.

"Jasper, no! Fuck, fuck. No." Tommy slid out of his hiding spot, cowering slightly just in case there was any more explosion to happen, making his way through the furniture that was lit on fire around him. There, in front of his eyes, lay the young man, covered in blood and soot, coughing.

Tommy fell on his knees, sliding his hand underneath Jasper's head to lift it up as he could see that he was still breathing, although very faintly.

"Jasper, hold on. We're going to get you to a bloody hospital, you know?"

Breath by breath, Tommy could see life sliding out of the young boy's body and it hurt him.

"Listen, mate, I met your sister, she's at the camp, she's a nurse, a fuckin' good nurse and she will —"

"She has no - no one except m-me and Johnny—" Jasper's breathless voice cut him off, whispering, his voice cracking, his chest heaving up and down.

"Come on, don't you fucking die on me here. I promised her I'll take you to the camp the next time I need fuckin' stitches."

Tommy placed his hands on the young boy's chest, pumping his heart, trying to get him to open his eyes.

"Tommy—" John's voice called out to him but he ignored him.

"Tommy" This time John's voice was loud, causing Tommy to sharply turn his neck towards him. Underneath the layers of blood and soot covering his face, he could see the sadness in John's eyes. "He's gone, Tommy. He's dead." John whispered, his voice barely a whisper.

The darkness surrounded you, but it wasn't peaceful; you could hear the sounds of occasional grenades and trip Mines somewhere at a distance and you could sometimes hear a cry of pain. You had to force yourself to clench your eyes shut and press the pillow tight against your ears to block out any sound. You wondered if life could get any worse than what it already was—

Letting out a frustrated groan, you sat up in bed, rubbing your tired, sleep deprived eyes as you snaked out of bed, your feet touching the floor. Without making any noise, you sneaked out of the bunker, not wanting to wake up anyone inside as you walked out. You looked up at the sky, the moon was shining bright — it was a beautiful full moon; a lovely starry night, but it was ironical how no one could see beauty in it. All we could see was blood, death and cries of pain.

Your arms wrapped around your body instinctively as a chilly breeze hit you, causing a shiver run down your spine. It was then when you heard the sound of the crunching of leaves somewhere across you, causing you to sharply look forward, until the familiar silhouette of the blue eyed boy came in your view.

"Tommy!" You exclaimed, your voice expressing a sudden joy you didn't know you could even feel.

You didn't know why; what connection you had with him but it felt like someone you'd known for ages had finally come back back to you. You ran in his direction, wanting to embrace him.

"You're back! You—" Words stopped from your mouth when you saw him up close. He wasn't happy. His face looked worse than how you'd seen him the last time— yes, physically too but more so, emotionally. You could see a scar in his eyes; you knew something had happened. His eyes were sunken, hollow, his face devoid of any emotion.

"Tommy—" You whispered his name, your words dripping with pain; it was strange to say that you felt it, genuinely, whatever it was that was bothering him. There was a connection and you could feel a pain building inside you as well, looking at him— so distraught.

"Say it," you pleaded with him.You knew he knew that you were in no mood to play games; that you knew that something had happened and you weren't the type of a girl to beat around the bush.

Your eyes moved along with Tommy's hand as he slid it into his pant pocket and pulled something out. Within the next second, you felt his fingers brush against your hand, his hand finally taking a hold of your hand and turning it so your palm was wide open. He then placed something cold against it and you looked down, the silver glistening against your now tear clouded eyes.

Your locket—

You bit your lip.

He was dead, of course he was.

You didn't cry or break down. You looked up at the sky and your lips curled into a weak smile. He was finally free; free of the torture, of watching countless people die and he had died a martyr. You were proud, needless to say. But your heart felt heavy. It didn't matter if he'd died a martyr's death, what mattered was that he was gone— your baby brother was gone and he was never coming back.The next minute you knew, you were on your knees, your face buried against Tommy's chest, his arm holding you gently as he let you whimper against his chest, his hand stroking the back of your head.

"I'm sorry, I'm fucking sorry. It should've been me maybe. I didn't give him the locket, I thought—"

You kept listening, all the while you had your face buried in his chest, a stabbing pain rising in your chest.

"I wanted to keep it for myself. I should've given it to him."

It didn't matter anymore. He was dead.

You don't remember how long you cried for—

It was probably minutes—

But once you were done, you wiped any traces of tears left in your eyes and put on a brave face. You were still sitting on the ground but Tommy was now standing, wondering, if there was anything he could say to you; to comfort you.

You didn't need it—

No amount of words can comfort you, and he knew it.

So he slid his hands into his pocket and turned away, slowly walking away from you.

"Tommy, wait." You weakly called out, and he froze, not turning towards you. You stood up and with slow, dragged steps, you walked up to him and placed your hand on his shoulder, nudging him to turn towards you and face you. He had to fucking face you, you deserved that much. "Look at me, for fucks sake." You hissed, your voice harsh, his body immediately stiffening in response to it. But he did what you asked him to do. Slowly, he turned around and your eyes met his icy blue ones.

He had expected you to slap him, scream at him and curse him but he had least expected you to do what you did then. You swallowed the bile forming in your throat and brought up the locket to his neck, clasping it around, letting it hang from it.

"Although it didn't protect him, I always hope it protects you."

You took a step away from him but this time, he caught your wrist, pulling you back towards him.

"Y-you don't hate me?" His voice was filled with anguish.

"It wasn't your fault. Maybe this was how it was meant to be. If there's anyone to blame, it's me. Instead of praying for them to be safe, I hoped and wondered if you were okay—" You softly whispered, looking down at the floor.

Tommy left the wrist he was holding reluctantly and this time, you gave him a weak smile and turned away. Watching you leave tore through his heart but your words providing his aching heart with a medicine, your words which he'd heard, the fact that you had thought of him, the fact that you'd wanted him to be safe. The fact that you cared for him. You wanted to be alone; to grieve. So he let you be. But he kept standing there, watching you with awe in his eyes. He wondered what he'd done good in life, to meet a woman as pure as you were. And now, a sudden selfish desire filled him up completely.

He wanted you. He needed you now. And he had to have you.

A/N: thank you for all the love I've received so far. And thank you to the creators of the lovely GIFs. 💕

#thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders #tommy shelby #peaky fucking blinders #peaky blinders x reader #tommy shelby x reader fanfiction

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kaiowut99 · 3 years

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5D’s Episode 29… With an “Uncut” Dub?! (Re-Edited 4Kids Dub/Japanese OST)

“A Looming Threat! The Dark Signer Ushio?!”/”Good Cop, Bad Cop”

Everybody listen!

Well, after over 2.5 years now (...welp), this little mini-project is finally wrapped up! (Well, not totally, as I realized I have to go back and fix a few things for consistency, but y’know) It’s been neat editing these to throw the Japanese OST back in, and while I might do a few clips here/there now for fun, unless 4K/Konami Cross Media decide to flub up more episode uploads without their dub OST, I probably won’t be doing more full episodes. (Need to work on finalizing my GX subs finally, haha.)

But in case this is still the first you’re hearing about my mini-project here, let’s get you up to speed:

So, the official Spanish YGO channel on YouTube flubbed a few uploads of the 5D’s dub such that they ended up uploading a few episodes of the English dub instead of the Latin American dub (21-29)–but with none of 4Kids’s background music! Which meant that I could swoop in and re-insert the original Japanese soundtrack (which I did by matching each track to how it was looped in the episode), but I wanted to do more by also tweaking the dub itself so that not only was it matching the original footage, but the dialogue was more in line with the original dialogue timing-wise (since I couldn’t salvage much of what they changed). Hence, the “dubbed uncut” gimmick here. To this end, I’ve also used dialogue from Duel Links where applicable, or even borrowed audio from other episodes with the vocals isolated to lend to that effect.

Check out the masterpost of episodes here!

Check out this episode’s WIP videos! WIP #1 WIP #2 WIP #3

This was an interesting one to work with, and I was looking forward to it because of the Jack/Carly scene at the end over Jack Battle; it was also neat working in OSTs like Ceremony off Sound Duel 2 and mesh it with the dub, while recreating some of the OST tweaks they did (like speeding up Carly’s theme or sputtering Rua/Ruka Battle 2 as Jack calls Carly out lol). Dialogue-editing-wise, this wasn’t as bad as 28, thankfully, as most of the dialogue was more or less adapted well, though I still did need to grab dialogue from other sources to cover for some dub fails, and I did grab audio from episode 30′s dub for the preview. I also translated the “Road of the King” poster shown in four scenes (two outside the gala that happens and two inside as Godwin talks), using the dub’s “Atlas Rising - The Rise of Jack Atlas” name. And since this is the last episode I’m working on, I thought it’d be cool to make use of Mark de Groot’s awesome Last Train - A New Morning English cover to really channel more of that “what if uncut” energy (just a shame no solid English CROSS GAME cover exists, but hopefully my eventual full translation when I post it will help that along). Full breakdown below, if you’re curious.

So, yeah... Enjoy, folks! Now that these are all done, I’ll be focusing more on my finalizing my GX subs and looking into finally reuploading my 5D’s sub/dub comparisons onto a new site, though this has made me want to revisit my 5D’s!DBZ Kai project occasionally, lol (I do want to see about using TheMilkman’s reduced-filler cut of Kai, though, as I thought it was a much more streamlined way to watch the show, but we’ll see). I do have ideas for clips to create later on, but for now, enjoy these and think of what could have been (and could still be if we ever miraculously get a redub...)~

*cracks knuckles*

So, in the Noteworthy Cards section, the twins’ dialogue is still all from Duel Links, as I stitched together a “What will this Monster be?” line for Luna to match Ruka’s line, and recycled the “You get to see!” edit I used in 27 for Leo.

For the cold open, I tweaked Trudge’s dialogue to remove more of the “working together” fluff from the subplot they added (I removed the more overt mentions in 28 since I couldn’t edit around it).

*cue Last Train*

In Carly’s scene with the officer, I recreated the Carly Nagisa theme as used here, which was pitched and sped up by nine seconds, and replaced the one officer’s line about her needing to go outside with Carly gasping (since the officer was originally silent). Once outside, I used a mix of lines from 27 and Duel Links to stitch together a better line about her fortune matching the original more, then did so again over the transition shots to the Road of the King/Atlas Rising red-carpet event (where the dub inserted a commercial break).

At said red-carpet event, I used a Duel Links line to make Carly’s “Angela! Didn’t see you!” line after bumping into Angela “No way! Angela!” to match the original.

Once the ROTK/Atlas Rising gala starts, I used the Japanese audio from the transition to it to after Godwin steps down the stairs to remove dub!MC’s added lines, then shortened Goodwin’s lines hyping up the movie so it all finished while he was onscreen, using the Japanese audio as the audience clapped. When Yusei and Jack start hearing the movie on their TV screens, I used Duel Links lines to make Jack’s movie dialogue match what was said in those scenes originally (and the dub was inconsistent), and after Angela calls bull on the movie’s “Jack was born in the Tops” narrative, I kept the reporters prodding Godwin in Japanese with a subbed line because of how 4Kids edited them such that they kept speaking in turns within a shorter scene. As Carly looks up at the movie before running off, I used a Duel Links line for Jack in the movie, and as she talks with Misty, I shortened Misty’s (fluffed in the dub) foreshadowing line to Carly to match the flaps.

I didn’t edit the scene with Yusei and Trudge much, and then as Carly bumps into a reporter outside Jack’s hospital, I wanted to remove the cameraman’s “We’re still live!” (since he was originally quiet, and you wouldn’t talk over a live shot like that lol) but the reporter’s “I’ll show you sorry” line overlapped with it, making a clean cut hard. When Carly makes it inside, I shortened her (fluffed in the dub) line about her costume working, then as Trudge walks in, I switched to the Japanese audio to remove his “only doing this to get close to Goodwin” dub-only line, and kept the dub’s Dark Signer birthmark SFX as it appears on Trudge (since the JP version seems to just use the regular Signer one for it).

After the eyecatch, I used the Japanese audio as Mikage peels the apple (since Mina was humming), then switched to it again after Jack says he wants to be alone to deal with the dub cutting Mikage’s bow and removing Mina’s “call me if you need... anything” line). Once Jack’s outside with Carly and possessed!Trudge walks up to them, I redid the Dark Signer birthmark SFX and the glowing right after to remove the dub’s added zoom-in SFX, then after Jack gasps, I switched to the Japanese audio to remove the dub’s added flashback-transition SFX. As Carly flashes back to possessed!Dick’s dueling in 28, I added in the “whooshing” SFX and recycled some SFX from 28 to remove “Wipe his mark clean!” from possessed!Dick’s dialogue and adding "Blizzard Strike!!” from my edit in 28 to it, also recycling Yusei’s yelling/groaning to keep Carly quiet--her on-screen “A glowing mark like Yusei” line right after is recycled from 28 (Carly’s original line was “That glowing on his arm...”). Used Japanese audio as Ushio activates his Disk, then stitched together a “You’re a Dark Signer?!” line for Jack to replace his “I seriously doubt [I’ll be the first to fall]” line to Trudge. I vocal-isolated Carly’s “Yusei won” line after Jack asks when Yusei’s happened and put it just before he does, replacing Carly introducing herself (which doesn’t happen originally until just before the last turn), and using the Japanese audio for the SFX as Jack looks determined. I used a Duel Links line to cover Jack using Carly’s name just before he has her use his Duel Disk, and then the duel starts.

I recycled a Trudge “It’s my move” line from later to remove his “Let’s cut the conversation” line (I did what I could to remove how conversational they made possessed!Trudge) over the 4000 LP shots, and then I vocal-isolated parts of Carly’s excited lines about dueling with Jack to remove the dub’s flashback-transition SFX (which they used over a vision...), recreating the Rua/Ruka Battle 2 theme playing here and the sputtering that happens when she declares her turn only for Jack to correct her and say it’s his, lol. I vocal-isolated Jack dialogue from later in the series to use a proper Vice Dragon effect explanation over Jack’s trash-talk line to Trudge, then did the same for a Carly line in 37 to fix an error where she mentions Vice Dragon having 2400 ATK (as I thought it’d sound better than “twenty-hundred” lol). I shortened Carly’s and Jack’s (fluffed-up in the dub) lines about his being a “once-great duelist,” then recycled some Trudge laughter to cover for his “Hey, has-been!” line; as Carly sends cards to the Graveyard for Warm Worm’s effect, I redid the Graveyard-sending SFX to remove her “That’s how this works” line and the dub’s add-on to that SFX, adding on a Jack “What’s going on?” thought per the JP script. As Carly reacts to having to send more cards per Shield Worm’s effect, I switched to the JP audio as the split-screens happen and the cards are sent to use those SFX.

As Carly declares another turn but catches herself, I used an “It’s my turn!” line from Jack to remove his “Let me see my cards” line, then tweaked Carly’s line to fix an error where she has Strong Wind Dragon take out Shield Worm in a “direct attack” so it’s “take out Shield Worm and attack!”; I vocal-isolated the resulting “Dimwit!” and “Did I mess up?” lines from Jack and Carly to remove the dub’s split-screen SFX. As Trudge brings back Shield Worm with Regretful Rebirthborn, I moved his line about its effect so it started while he was onscreen per the JP script, also removing his “you and your little assistant” fluff, and I vocal-isolated Jack’s “Not as sorry as Trudge is going to be” thought to remove the dub’s added zoom-in SFX, using part of the JP audio to use that SFX, and then using the JP SFX as Carly sends the cards to their Graveyard. Having removed Jack’s fluff here as there was a dub commercial break inserted, I tweaked a Duel Links “From my hand” line to use before he declares his Twin-Shield Defender summon, using the JP audio for the summon itself.

I moved Trudge’s “It’s my turn then” a second or two earlier, then used the JP audio after he summoned his Worm Tokens as the split-screens and counter fly-ins happen, then vocal-isolated part of Trudge’s line after to remove the dub’s split-screen SFX, and I used the “chaos” part of one of Trudge’s Duel Links lines to try and fix the dumb “Dark Tuner Chaos-Rogue Catastrogue” error (which I do 2-3 more times), using the JP audio as Chaos-Rogue’s summoned. I moved Jack’s “What’s this Dark Tuning business all about?” line a second or two later to remove his use of Carly’s name, then used the JP audio from where Chaos-Rogue starts tuning to the Worm Token glowing to remove Carly’s added line about Dick Dark Tuning, and used the JP audio as Dark Diviner/Pitch-Dark Zumwalt’s summoned. I redid the SFX as Carly sends cards to the Graveyard per Chaos-Rogue’s effect to move part of Trudge’s line attacking with Dark Diviner earlier (since 4Kids cut a second or two from this shot), and then vocal-isolated part of Trudge’s line about Dark Diviner’s effect to remove the dub’s split-screen SFX. I switched to the JP audio as Carly sends cards to the Graveyard after as I moved Trudge’s line a bit to shorten it, then after Carly shields Jack from the attack, I vocal-isolated part of his line to Trudge to remove the dub’s split-screen SFX and used a Duel Links line to extend his dialogue (which 4Kids shortened); I also vocal-isolated Trudge’s line after to remove the dub’s split-screen SFX.

As Carly apologizes to Jack, I used a “Well?” from Duel Links for him to remove his guessing Carly’s name now that she properly introduces herself, and then vocal-isolated their lines as they start their turn to remove the dub’s split-screen SFX. I used the JP audio after they draw, then again when they activate Mind Trust, vocal-isolating part of Jack’s line to remove the dub’s split-screen SFX and stitching together various lines to extend Jack’s explanation of its effect by adding a mention that it’s a Tuner with half the Level of the Monster he releases that he’s adding to his hand (4Kids cut this short and he just says “to pull a weaker Monster”). I added a whoosh as the screen goes up Strong Wing Dragon to match the original audio, then as Dark Resonator’s summoned, I used the JP audio as the ATK counter flies in (but at a lower volume, since 4Kids moved Jack’s dialogue about the summon to during the summon itself, since Jack’s lips weren’t moving when he originally said them while onscreen), and stitched together a “Dark Resonator tunes with Twin-Shield Defender” line to remove the “tune-up” line, using Duel Links lines for Jack’s Exploder Dragonwing chant. I vocal-isolated part of his explanation of its effect to remove the dub’s split-screen SFX, and then his line having Exploder Dragonwing attack to remove his “Of course [I still have it], I only lost yesterday” line to Carly, using his Duel Links “King Storm!!” shout for its attack, and switching to the JP audio as the attack hits and causes the explosion.

As Trudge comes to, I added a Duel Links grunt over a second of lip-flaps that the dub cut, then no real dialogue edits to Carly’s and the reporter’s lines as she runs out with Jack. Then, as Goodwin meets up with Yusei, I edited his “It’s time I told you the whole truth” line to match the flaps, adding a vocal-isolated “You see” from 26 just before “It’s time I told you the truth,” and used the JP audio after Yusei gasps looking to where he points to end the episode.

In the Preview, as mentioned, I used dialogue vocal-isolated from episode 30 to recreate the JP dialogue, though I did want to use Crow’s “Ready! Set! Duel!” from Duel Links but it wasn’t working too well, so I stuck with his “Time to ride!” from 30 that hopefully still sounds good.

*phew*

#yugioh #yugioh 5ds #yugioh 5d's #ygo #ygo 5ds #ygo 5d's #5D's #my work #5Ds dub uncuts #yu-gi-oh 5D's #yu-gi-oh 5ds #yu-gi-oh! 5ds #yu-gi-oh! 5d's #[i'm nothing if not a perfectionist even for a mini-project lol]

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bush-viper-cutie · 4 years

Text

“The Mysterious Broom” || YEAR 3 – Ch.22 (HP au)

Chapter List

<-- Last Chapter Next Chapter -->

Day posted: 9/22/2020

Word count: 3,395

Relationship: EVENTUAL severus X oc (slow burn)

Rating: E for everyone

Warnings: none

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A/N: This is my first fan fic I’m writing mainly as a way to practice. This is a retelling of the hp books with an inserted character. Although most every character will be written about, this is mostly for the pro snape fandom. Please do not fear, although this is a severus x oc story, it is an incredibly slow burn as I do not intend for them to get together at all until after the final book events. Chapters will be posted twice a week.

This derivative work follows the events of the Harry Potter books by Jk Rowling and is intended as a fun way to practice my writing. Thank you for reading :D

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Heather skipped through the corridor, smiling at the mysterious lights shining from inside every suit of armor, her heavy bag bumping against her thigh with every leap. The air smelled of toasted pumpkin pies and syrupy-thick sugary drinks with nutmeg, the halls sparkled brightly from the outside light reflecting off the streamers hung from ceiling corner to ceiling corner.

The halls echoed her shoes and the thumping of presents as she made her way to Gryffindor tower, presenting herself to the portrait of Sir Cadogan.

“Here to duel me, are you? Well head my warning! I never lose!” He raised his sword up and jumped into fighting stance, his horse yawned in the background.

Heather rolled her eyes and knocked on the portrait.

“Fight me!”

The portrait opened and Hermione jumped and hugged her close. “Merry Christmas!”

Heather groaned under her tightening hug. “Hermione! Too tight!”

Hermione pulled away and stepped aside to let her in. Heather took a seat by the fire and ate some toasted round nuts from a bronze saucer while Hermione got her presents down from her room. They snacked and talked about how nice it was to have windows and be so high up and be able to look down at the white castle grounds in the winter.

As much as Heather loved how green and dark and mysterious the lake looked through the Slytherin common room’s massive window, she did wish she could look out onto the grounds during autumn and winter sometimes. The lake always looked the same no matter the season.

The clock over the mantel had struck ten and Hermione decided to go wake Ron and Harry. Within minutes the three of them were running down the stairs and diving into seats next to Heather, ready to exchange and open presents.

Harry fixed his crooked glasses. “Alright. Weasley presents first.”

They took the lumpiest parcels and shredded it open. They had each gotten brand new knitted sweaters in their respective house colors along with knitted socks, a dozen mince pies – home-baked of course – with a box of nut brittle to top everything off.

“I love her sweaters!” Heather looked at her brand new green sweater with a silver snake knitted at the front instead of a giant letter ‘H’. She looked at Harry’s sweater and smiled. “Your old sweater is getting a little short on you right?”

Harry nodded and crunched on some nut brittle. When Harry had gotten an emerald green sweater with the letter ‘H’ stitched inside she had been more excited that eventually she’d get that one too than the fact they were twins and could finally match like twins always did.

They opened cards next, not signed but it did mention studying hard and they figured it was one of the ‘lame’ teachers – as Ron put it – wishing them a Merry Christmas.

“Hagrid’s next?” Ron picked up a parcel that behaved a little too much like a giant rock wrapped in brown paper.

They agreed and together heaved their rock-like packages forward and began opening it. They stared at the contents for a while.

Ron blinked several times. “A rock? It’s a rock.”

They had each received a large jagged lump of muted brown with specks of black and swirls of dark grey. Heather tipped her rock over and saw a carved wooden grater. She picked it up and scraped it down the side, watching as little brown shaving came off the rock with ease.

“Ohh!” Hermione waved the little card around that had come stuck to the brown paper. “They’re ‘Brazilian Cocoa Danburites from Erosional Caverns’ according to Hagrid.”

Heather stuck her finger in the shavings and sucked them off her thumb. “Mmm!” Her heart soared with delight at the thought of being able to scrape cocoa into warm butterbeer all year long. Sometimes Hagrid really knew the perfect gifts to give. She wrapped it back up and put it aside. “Next?”

“Mine,” Hermione pushed several presents out from behind her and handed them out.

Heather opened hers quickly, excited to see what Hermione had found after she had told her she wanted a nice pot. She rolled out the object and gasped at the beautifully painted silver pot. It was small enough to hold in one hand but large enough to grow a good sized large-leafed plant. “It’s amazing!”

“Thanks,” Hermione smiled. “I painted it myself – but don’t worry. I made sure the paint wouldn’t mess with the charms.”

She looked at the pot again with new eyes. “Charms?” She hadn’t even considered that wizard pots would have charms and spells put on them.

“Yeah. The witch said this one is good for beginners because it creates the perfect environment for the plant so it’s harder to kill it.”

Heather raised a brow. “Thanks for your confidence in my herbology abilities. You know I got a better score than you on my giant hogweed plant last week.”

“What are you trying to say with this, Hermione?” Harry lifted a long orange comb. He pressed a button and the teeth started moving like on a chainsaw.

Ron laughed. “Alright, I agree with her on that gift for you.”

Heather laughed and poked a very unamused Harry with currently long and untidy, shaggy hair. Ron had received a bag of candy and a bottle of grammar ink and it was now his turn to give them each a can of butterbeer. They opened them up and drank while they unwrapped Heather’s presents that were actually rocks but painted to look like their faces. They laughed at that and opened Harry’s next, which were some left over vanilla cakes from Honeydukes.

Ron who was already stuffing his face with a vanilla cake pointed at a long thin package forgotten under the coffee table. “Harry, you forgot that one.”

“Oh.” Harry bent down and placed it on the table, moving all his presents aside. “It doesn’t have a note.”

“Who’d send just you a present?” Heather crossed her arms, feeling a ‘famous Harry Potter’ moment coming on.

Harry smiled and wriggled his eyebrows. “Jealous?”

“Maybe if you’d open it,” Ron handed him one end of the twine holding the brown paper together.

Harry pulled the twine free and slid out the present, gasping as a brand new slim and shiny broomstick hit the table. “I don’t… I can’t believe…”

Heather’s jaw dropped and Ron almost jumped out of his seat. Hermione took the paper and immediately started looking for a note.

“A new broom? Why? How? Who – ?” Heather ran her finger down the handle and gasped, feeling electricity run through her body, immediately reminding her of the feeling of wind through her long tangle-y hair.

Harry only shrugged and picked it up, the handle glittered as it moved, perfectly polished. The firebolt was identical to the one Harry had been looking at during their stay at Diagon Alley. He stood up and Heather with him, followed by Ron, all eager to see it in action. Harry let go suddenly and the broom stayed hovering in the air, ready to be mounted and used to surely win any Quidditch game against anyone.

“It’s amazing,” said Harry hoarsely.

“But, but who sent it?” Hermione was now retracing Harry’s steps, yelling from the bottom steps a few feet away. She ran upstairs looking all over the ground. “It’s not your aunt and uncle, right?”

“No way,” Heather and Harry unisoned.

Ron took a step closer and started walking around it, taking in every detail. “Must have been Dumbledore then! Like with your invisibility cloak!”

Heather shook her head, getting pushed by Harry. The three of them were now walking around the broom. “No, he only did that because it was our father’s.”

“Or,” Ron continued, “It is from him, but he can’t say it’s from him because then gits like Malfoy would say it’s favoritism!”

Heather stopped and Harry and Ron bumped into one another. “That WOULD be favoritism.”

Ron wasn’t listening. He pulled Harry’s sweater sleeve, “Wait ‘till Malfoy sees this! He’ll get as red as a tomato seeing you fly on this thing! It cost more than all the Slytherin brooms combined! And FASTER.”

“If it’s even allowed,” Heather was starting to panic now. This broom was the fastest out there. Any team who played against Harry would surely lose in under a minute. “This broom might not – ”

Ron crossed his arms and faced her, “It’s an internationally standard broom, this is. Malfoy. Will. FREAK.”

Harry’s smile widened, lighting up his eyes. “This… This is great!”

Ron started jumping up and down and hooting with glee. Heather crossed her arms and sank into one of the chairs, throwing a pillow down angrily. She’d never hear the end of this now. What little popularity she’d started to cultivate in her house would surely all whisk away the moment any of them saw Harry’s new broom. They’d all look at her like it was her own fault he got the better broom. And she could hear it now from Pansy and Draco, ‘Why’d we get the worse twin in our house,’ and ‘Can’t you try not to be a failure for once, Heather?”

How was she supposed to compete when every wizard, baby and old, knew and loved Harry Potter, the boy who lived, defeater of You-Know-Who. For all they knew it could have been a random fan who heard Harry broke his broom from a dementor attack. She sighed and crossed her arms, kicking at the pillow she’d thrown down.

Ron was still laughing when an even worse thought popped into her head. She was the one who convinced her team not to play last match! With Harry’s new broom, everyone will be wishing they’d played him before he broke it! Now that really was her fault. She squeezed her cheeks, zoning out on the broom, and pulled them down in agony. She was doomed.

“What,” Ron tried ceasing his laughing fit. “What about Lupin!”

Harry pulled his arm back from the broom and laughed. “Lupin? If he had this much gold, he’d buy himself new robes.”

Ron shook his head. “But he likes you! Besides he went somewhere, so he could have gone to Diagon Alley. Maybe he heard what happened and decided to buy it for you while he was out.”

Heather tuned back in. “Went somewhere? Went where? He was sick the whole time.”

Ron shrugged. “Well he wasn’t in the hospital wing. I had to clean the bedpans for Snape’s detention before I could go to the match. And after your match, he still wasn’t there.”

“He must have been sick in bed.” Heather rolled her eyes. It was so easy for Ron and Harry to jump to conclusions. It certainly wasn’t Lupin who sent the broom.

Hermione came back down with a look of worry. “I searched under your beds and the note didn’t fall in there.” She’d been searching for a dropped card the whole time they were examining the broom.

“Alright.” Ron narrowed his eyes at her.

She bit her lip. “Not alright… I mean… It’s weird. Like you’ve been saying, it’s an expensive broom… It’s odd that Harry would just receive one.”

Ron stepped forward. “Loads of people love Harry! Any one of them could’ve gifted the broom.”

“But who would want to keep it anonymous that they sent it?”

Ron must have guessed where she was going because he quickly turned to Harry. “Can I ride it? Let’s go test it out outside! Play with Fang again.”

“No!” Hermione put her hands up. “N-not yet! None of us should ride it yet.”

“Well what else should we do with it, Hermione? Sweep the floors?” Ron scoffed.

Before Hermione could get mad at Ron, they heard banging and tumbling coming from the boy’s dormitories. They all turned towards the sound.

“You didn’t leave the door open, did you!” Ron ran for the stairs. “Scabbers!”

Hermione looked apologetic and ran after Ron. “Crookshanks is just playing!”

Heather remained seated, looking at the broom. Harry went back to inspecting the golden engraving.

From upstairs they could hear Ron yelling. “GET. THAT. MONSTER. OUT. OF. HERE!”

“NO CROOKSHANKS, DON’T GET IN THERE!”

There was a high pitched warbling noise suddenly. Heather and Harry ran up to see what had happened. Heather clapped her hands to her ears and stared inside Harry’s trunk. Crookshanks was hiding and Scabbers was trying to dig further into Ron’s pocket, trying to get away from the noise.

“Ah,” Harry picked up a round object – the pocket sneakoscope – and stuffed it into a sock. It was still going so he shoved it under as many clothes as possible until it was barely audible.

Hermione took the chance to pick Crookshanks up as he recovered from hissing at the noise. “There, I’ve got him.”

Ron pointed at the door. “Great. Then get him out!”

“You don’t have to yell!”

“Just keep that bloody vicious monster away from my rat! He’s trying to eat him, Hermione! Not play! They aren’t pals!”

Hermione huffed and ran out of the room.

Ron slammed the door shut and took Scabbers out, putting him on his bed. “It’s alright, that evil creature’s out now.”

Heather eyed Scabbers and shared a look with Harry. As much as Ron was trying to keep him alive, it looked like Scabbers would soon pass naturally anyways. Once so round, he was now thin as toothpicks. His hair was in patches and his ears drooped. He normally would have scampered away and now lay on the bed, unable to gather the energy to bolt – although that may have been because minutes ago he was running for his life. But still. He didn’t look good.

“Have you been giving him that rat tonic?” She didn’t think it’d help much if he was. She doubted the tonic could put off death.

“Yeah, but it’s not helping.”

Harry sat down on the bed next to him. “Maybe it’s just stress,” he put a hand on Ron’s shoulder.

Ron nodded and tucked Scabbers into bed. “You rest. That stupid furball with teeth is gone.”

They left the boy’s dormitiories and Ron shut the door tight. They walked downstairs to Hermione, who was sitting with her arms crossed.

“Crookshanks is in my room. I’ve closed the door.”

“Good. Keep it that way.”

Ron was being unnecessarily harsh but no one said anything. Hermione really should be more careful with that cat. Heather sat down on the couch and looked at the fire, staring at Harry’s broom as darkly as Hermione was.

She was trying to come up with plans to get him to not use it. But none seemed fair or plausible. His Head of House would obviously be more than happy to let him use it… and Professor McGonagall would surely fight anyone who suggested it was unfair. Not like Professor Snape would help her with the problem, even if it did concern his own team. He’d probably help Harry just to spite her…

She shook her head. No, he hated Harry more, he’d choose her over him any day. And Lupin wouldn’t do anything, he liked them both equally. She couldn’t owl Draco either, since he wasn’t supposed to know. She creased her eyebrows, getting really worried now. What if she got kicked off the team for ruining their chances?

For the second year in a row they’d lose the House Cup because of her. Well, she sunk deeper in her brooding state, last year wasn’t her fault either. She didn’t know she was picking the wrong tunnel, just like she didn’t know he’d receive a brand new broom – best in the world broom. Marcus would understand… wouldn’t he?

No. She could see it now. Cassius standing up on the crystal coffee table, right before the team left for practice. ‘Are you sure you want a traitor like Potter on your team Flint? She planned this. She KNEW Harry Potter would get a better broom. She’s one of them! She wishes she was a Gryffindor. She’s betrayed us.’ Marcus would turn to her and only shake his head, indicating her permanent termination from the team.

All the small friendships she had started to grow would be put out in an instant, too. No one would want to be friends with the Slytherin House’s personal enemy. Even the girl who sleeps next to her, the nice one she’d found out, whose name is Cindy and let her borrow a few berries to give to her toad, would ignore her. If even Cindy would ignore her, she could only imagine how bad Pansy would get.

Pansy would start bullying her again, but worse. Before she’d just be annoying and no one would care. Now her mean spirited jokes would make her more popular. Heather shuddered to think.

Harry wiped a soft cloth over the broom’s handle where Ron touched it. Heather frowned at them. But she wasn’t going to sabotage Harry’s chance at playing on a broom. She couldn’t. Could she? Maybe she could just tell him how bad this would be for her. Have him use her broom and hide that one away until next year or something. She closed her eyes in frustration, realizing why it wouldn’t work. But they had to play each other eventually! Thanks to her stupid dumb plan from earlier!

She should have kept her mouth shut. Then Marcus would have a losing team and Heather would not be associated with it at all. Next year he would’ve stayed clear of Cassius for sure, thinking he was some sort of bad luck.

She had a sudden realization. She wondered… could she hint at Draco to get a broom like that before he came back to Hogwarts? Harry and Ron were still wordlessly drooling and Hermione was still brooding in her corner, glaring at the poor broom.

Heather got up. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to put my things away before lunch.” No one said anything as she picked up her bag full of presents and left the room. She closed the portrait and ran down the steps.

She bolted down the main floor corridor and took the dungeon steps two at a time, knocking into something so hard they both fell down.

“Potter!”

She stood up quickly and jumped back against the wall, quivering at the familiar deep voice that had just yelled.

Professor Snape shook his long hair slightly and dusted off angrily. He stood towering like he normally did when a student mouthed off to him. “Next time I hear or see you running down those stairs you will receive a day’s detention for every step.”

Her brain was numb with adrenaline and for some reason the only thing she could think to say was, “There’re thirty-six steps.”

He frowned and looked at the stairs. “Then that’s thirty-six days of detention you’ll be facing… So don’t do it again. You’re lucky I wasn’t carrying any potions or I’d have you clean the whole dungeon floor before dinner.”

Heather nodded and fixed her stance. She realized her arms were spread on the wall like she was being cornered by a ferocious wild cat of the mountains. She pulled her bag closer. “Sorry, Sir.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Why all the rush, Potter.”

“Just… need to send Draco a letter. As soon as possible.”

He arched his brow but said nothing. He turned, apparently deciding the interrogation was over, and swept up the stairs.

Heather breathed out, amazed she hadn’t gotten expelled right then. Maybe it was a sign things couldn’t possibly get any worse. She smiled and ran to the common room door. She wrote a quick letter, trying to stealthily hint at Draco to buy the newest broom and ran back out – walked up the steps – and ran all the way to the owlery to pick the perfect owl to send.

She made it back just in time to climb a few stairs and bump into Harry, Ron, and Hermione on their way to lunch.

“Why’re you sweating?” Harry stopped and stared.

She shrugged, “I bumped into Professor Snape… I thought he’d expel me for it. He didn’t.”

That was enough for them so they headed down to lunch together in the same quiet silence as the morning had ended up being.

~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 4 years

Text

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt.4

Lance kept the rear view mirror on the two strangers in the back. The shorter one of the two was unfairly hot. Lance might never have had sex, out of fear of losing self control, the fact he was monster, and he didn’t know if he was going to knock some poor stranger up with some half vampire kid, but he knew well enough that the man was edging on his type. Untalkative, the man had his arms crossed, hand clutching the raspberry slushy Pidge had forced upon him. He looked as impressed to be in Lance’s car, as Lance was to have him there.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what is it that you three do that has you out so late at night?”

Lance did mind. Thanks to Pidge these two strangers had been committed to memory for the rest of his undead life

“Man, you don’t want to get Pidge started...”

Hunk was also uneasy. He’d found his way into the bag of chocolate eclairs, the pile of wrappers now more than the chocolates left

“Oh? Pidge?”

“We’re paranormal investigators. You’ve heard all about Garrisons blood past... well, we’re going to be the first to capture it all on film”

Shiro raised an eyebrow, Lance accidentally meeting his eyes in the mirror, quickly averting his gaze back to the road

“Oh, but Lance is a lawyer... He’s the serious one who doesn’t believe in ghosts”

Thanks for that Pidge, now Shiro’s attention was on him

“You’re a lawyer?”

“Yep. Got the fancy piece of paper and everything”

“Wow. What kind of law do you practice?”

“Family”

Yeah, Lance knew his manners were lacking, he didn’t need Pidge kicking the back of his chair like she did

“Ah. That must be tough”

“Some days are worse than others, but it is what it is. What do you two do?”

It was on the tip of Lance’s tongue to mention the photography thing, but being a dumb human meant they didn’t always remember what was said

“That’s right, you said your brother was into photography?”

Aaaaand the attention was back on Pidge

“Yeah, Keith likes to take photos, it’s more a hobby than anything. I’ll save you the details and just say I’m in finance. Not terribly interesting”

Great. A finance guy right next to the registered hacker of the group...

“Sounds boring”

Shiro snorted a laugh. Lance cursing mentally that he now had Keith’s name in his head

“It has its moments. So you guys are into the paranormal? Ever see anything?”

“Not yet. But you never kno-ooow. Watch where you’re driving!”

Turning onto the dirt road that lead to his house, Lance could have probably been gentler on the ditch. Each year the council filled the damn thing up, only for it to all erode away with the first rains of the year

“If you’re not used it by now, you never will be”

“That’s because you can’t drive for shit”

“It sounds to me like you want to walk home in the morning”

“I’ll be good”

Lance’s lips betrayed him with a smile. Pidge would never “good”, her rebellious behaviour was just another thing about her to love

“Yeah, yeah. You’ve told me that a hundred times and I’m still waiting”

“Oh, shut it, dad”

“If I was your dad, you’d be grounded for life”

“That’s fine. People suck anyway”

“With no wifi”

Pidge lunges forward in her chair, an arm coming around him in a hug

“I’ll be good! Please don’t take my wifi away”

“As if I could. You’re the one who set it up”

“Oh, right. Guess I don’t need to be that nice to you then”

Licking his cheek, Lance wrinkled his nose

“You’re so fucking gross”

“You love me”

“That I do. We’re nearly home. Sorry it’s not much, I don’t really have visitors over. And I hope you’re not allergic to cats, Blue likes to shed all over the place”

In the back, Keith scoffed

“What kind of a name is “Blue” for a cat?”

How dare he insult Blue and her perfect little body of complete perfection. Blue was Blue, his number one girl, not a number one emo reject in the backseat of a strangers car because he hadn’t bothered learning basic maintenance

“I don’t know, what kind of name is “Keith” for a mullet”

When Shiro laughed, Lance was certain it was the man’s first real and genuine laugh for the night

“He’s got you there”

“Go fuck yourself”

Pidge laughed as Keith sulked. If he wasn’t good at taking a joke, then he shouldn’t be dishing it out. Not that Lance was one to talk

“Don’t mind him. He gets cranky when he’s sleepy”

The wrinkles between Keith’s eyebrows deepened at his brother’s explanation

“You’re the one who could have just got a hotel room”

“And you’re the one being rude. Lance, and his friends, are doing us a favour”

“Or they’re going to murder us in our sleep”

“Nah, man. That’s too much effort. I’ll make you a deal though, you don’t murder us and we won’t murder you”

Keith seemed even grumpier at Lance’s joke, Lance just anxious to reach his house already. This was terrible idea, a disaster in the making, and the plot of a pretty average b-grade movie. One thing was for sure though, he wasn’t wearing a matching bra and underwear, pretty much guaranteeing he wouldn’t be the first one murdered.

Parking by the steps of the porch, the rain started pelting down as Lance cut the ignition. Relieved to finally be home, he could see Blue sleeping on the windowsill of the living room, having decided to ruin yet another set of vertical blinds in her search for the perfect napping spot. Seeing her was what brought the greatest relief, not the warm light filtered between the blinds, and the knowledge his house would be nice and warm with his bed waiting for his tired arse. Opting to leave the equipment in the car for the night, Lance figured he’d collect it once the other’s fell asleep. All Pidge needed was the camera cards, and her laptop, which she was small enough to climb into the trunk for. God. He really didn’t want strangers in his house, judging things, and even worse, touching things. He liked all his things and he liked them where they were. Routine was key to keeping his sanity, and familiarity helped his Mami whenever he brought her home for a visit.

Fleeing from the car, they all managed to get themselves wet despite the short distance. The rain didn’t bother Lance, not when he couldn’t actually catch a cold from prolonged exposure to the cold. It was his guests his had to worry about

“Come on in. Leave your shoes by the door and I’ll grab us all some towels. Shiro, you and Keith probably don’t have a change of clothes with you, so I’ll lend you some robes now. You can chuck your stuff in the machine, then put it in the dryer before heading to bed. Hunk, wanna show them through the kitchen? I know we’ve got snacks, but I would kill for a glass of red”

“You got it, buddy”

The look in Hunk’s eyes seemed to question if he really wanted Shiro and Keith to know where Lance kept his knives. Hunk was too polite to blurt that out, not like Pidge who had no filter

“Out the way losers, I’ve got a date with my princess”

“My princess, is sleeping on the living room window sill. Don’t blame me if you get scratched”

“That’s just her way of telling me how much she loves me”

“Or how much you drive her insane”

“Rude, much. I’ll meet you guys in the kitchen when I’ve got my Blue”

Pidge pushed both her slushies over to Hunk, Hunk seemed nervous about left alone, but mentally rallied as he managed a smile

“The kitchen’s through here”

With three robes and a bundle of towels, Lance returned to the kitchen where Hunk had started stress baking. The signs were obvious, from the flour next to the mixing bowl, to Pidge sitting on the kitchen bench with an unhappy looking Blue held in her lap

“Sorry, some lazy arsehole didn’t sort the linen closest”

It was lie. He simply, really, truly didn’t want to deal with his visitors. Passing Shiro and Keith a robe and a towel each, Lance went on to wrap a towel over Hunk’s shoulders, then throw Pidge’s at her. Catching the towel, she managed to keep Blue contained in her lap, despite Blue’s displeasure

“Let me guess, that means you?”

Lance’s big blue eyes widened, shocked Shiro would make a joke

“Damn, Lance. I think I might just like this one”

“Oh, bite it, Pidge. Yeah. That lazy arsehole’s me. Even if there were more hours in the day, I’d still probably spend them sleeping. Did Hunk offer you guys a coffee?”

“Already on it, man. I’m whipping up some butter cookies to go with the tea”

Lance sighed to himself again, mentally of course because his mother would have smacked his arse had he done it out loud. He didn’t do guests for a reason. The feeding them thing was annoying

“I hope you don’t mind, but can you show us where the bathroom is?”

Right. They were wet. He was wet. He was supposed to be human, which meant sliding his robe on over his clothes, or rather starting too then realising it wouldn’t go on over his jacket. God. He was making an idiot of himself.

With his jacket over his chair, Lance flashed Shiro and Keith a smile

“Yeah, through here. You guys can go ahead and take a shower if you want. I mean, seperate showers, or whatever, no judgment if you’re into that kind of thing. Sorry, I’m not used to visitors. Feel free to use whatever you find in the guest bathroom, most of it’s Hunk and Pidge’s stuff they’ve left here, but there’s fresh soap bars and spare toothbrushes in the second drawer”

Someone needed to shut him up. Stitch his goddamn lips together, then bury him until his embarrassment worse off. Lance’s moves were still as he led his guests from the kitchen to the bathroom

“Here we go. I’ll put you in the spare room down here, and we’ll sleep upstairs. There’s not much down here, just my office which is the end room. Your room will be the next door up, it’s got two twins in there, so plenty of space. Pidge set up a charge pad, because you guys probably didn’t bring your chargers either. If you go all the way the other way in this hall, you’ll reach the laundry. Everything’s out in the open, so help yourself. I know this is awkward as fuck, and probably is for you two, but there’s no saying no to Pidge once she thinks something is a good idea. Oh, yeah, don’t be afraid to take your time, if you get lost, give us a yell”

Shiro thanked him, towing Keith into the bathroom by the arm. Lance not going to question that one. Not at all. Nope. Nooo... God that family had some good genetics though. Under all his brooding pouting, Lance had caught sight of Keith’s eyes... Eyes like two small galaxies had been captured and shoved in there. How they were so damn purple when he was human, Lance didn’t know, but fuck it was unfair.

When the bathroom door closed, Lance headed down to the office. Pidge couldn’t be trusted with electronic locks, leaving him the only option of dead locking the door. His explanation was that the cases he worked on deserved privacy, which his two friends respected. He’d let them in the office once to satisfy their curiosity, Pidge finding the sheer number of books boring. On the outside it appeared a normal office. Bookcases, filing cabinets, his framed diploma, laptop, printer, all those sorts of normal office things. His desk was organised around the clutter, that totally wasn’t his fault. He couldn’t help he had a weakness for quirky stationary. His current favourite pen was decorated with dancing cacti. The small things in life helped him deal with life’s less than pleasant things. Under his desk were the only two anomalies of the room. On the left, instead of drawers, was his wine rack. On the right, behind the drawers, was his fridge. Lance might be the worlds biggest klutz with his glasses on, but he wasn’t stupid enough to leave his blood bags where everyone could see them. Locked behind a heavy iron door, the previous fireplace of the room meant no one paid much attention to the outside protrusion where it once sat. He’d kept the decorative tiles in place, making a feature of it around his desk in order to keep the questions to a minimum. When it came to time leave his current set up, he was going to be devastated.

With precious minutes ticking down, Lance grabbed himself out the blood pack he’d started for the day. He never let himself go hungry, but with two strangers in the house it was better he let himself have a small feed just to keep his nerves in check. Grabbing down a wine glass and the closest bottle of Shiraz, he poured himself a double before pouring in a good double shot of blood. The bag was O+, not his favourite, yet not the worst. He wasn’t one of those blood snobs that only every drank one type. He was grateful for what he could get, and more grateful to the people who donated their blood under their own free will. Naturally they were compensated for their blood and their time, Coran who ran the blood bank in Platt wasn’t a man to be messed with. Lance knew Coran wasn’t human, yet he had no clue what race he was, nor did he have any idea the race of his niece Allura who often helped out. The pair of them were the coordinators for most of Platt city, and the surrounding area, providing safe blood for those not in a coven or forced from a coven due to whatever reason, with in reason... He knew they weren’t human, as neither of them had aged a single day in all the years he’d known them... which was a pretty long time when he stopped to think about it... which he definitely didn’t have time to right now.

Straightening up his office, Lance then headed back to the kitchen. Hunk busy with the cookies he’d just placed in the oven, while Pidge was sipping on her slurpy. Blue knew she wasn’t supposed to be on the kitchen table, yet gave zero fucks, Lance striding over to scoop her up and pepper her with kisses, after placing his glass down carefully

“Who’s daddy’s good girl?”

Blue shot him look that expressed how little she thought of him, done with his craziness and protesting of her less than regal treatment

“Yes, I know. You don’t care, you just want your wet food and the blanket turned back on. It’s such a hard life”

Stooping to let Blue down, she gave him a look of disgust before licking at her fur as if to erase his pats. Picking up his wine glass again, he took another sip, feeling the way the blood coated his mouth as it slid down easily

“Well, that’s done. They’re in the bathroom now, doing whatever. I still can’t believe you volunteered my house”

Pidge shrugged

“I know if it was Matt who was stuck, I’d want someone good to help him out. I promise to pay for anything that gets damaged”

“Damn, girl. How much they pay you for that tour?”

Pidge shrugged again. They both knew she wouldn’t be paying, if she tried Lance wouldn’t let her

“Enough”

Matt was a bit of a tricky topic. He was a firm believer in all things paranormal and supernatural. For all her enthusiasm and research, Matt dwarfed Pidge’s knowledge by a long shot. Apparently when Pidge was younger Matt had got himself in a bit of jam chasing ghosts, since whatever had happened, he’d left to track things all across the world. Pidge missed him fiercely, and was left constantly cranky with her brother at his lack of regular updates

“Speaking of Matt, have you heard from him lately”

Lance was glad Hunk was the one asking, he’d stripped Pidge bare of all her defences, keeping her secrets at the same time as keeping her grounded

“Not for something like 3 months now. Dad said he was in Italy the last time he checked in with him. Mum worries herself sick when she doesn’t hear from him”

“Pidge, if he’s anything like you, then he’s fine. You Holt’s are a touch bunch”

Pidge sighed, Lance sympathising over how hard it could be not to hear from your siblings. There was nothing like the love and hate that came with having a sibling. Half the time you want to murder them in their sleep, but god help anyone else who messed with them. His whole family had changed after he’d been turned, they’d aged while he remained the same. Now he was getting depressed.

Sliding off the counter, Pidge threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around him in a fierce hug

“I just... really miss him”

“I know you do. I’m sure he misses you, but he’s like you and once he’s off chasing something time looses all meaning”

“Yeah. I mean, I know he is, but sometimes it really...”

“Fucking sucks”

Pidge nodded as Lance finished her sentence for her. She was just a baby, while he was an old man of 44

“Have you messaged him lately?”

“Everyday”

That had to hurt even worse. 120 plus messages left on read

“Until he comes back, you’ll have to be happy with the two of us”

“I mean... if I reeeeeeally have to”

Hunk turned from the oven, enveloping both of them in a bear hug

“Group hug!”

Pidge laughed, faking an attempt at squirming her way out. Hunk laughing too as he lifted them both off their feet for a moment. Lance’s poor wineglass barely surviving the ordeal

“You two are stuck with me”

“Yep. We sure are. And we’re the luckiest people alive”

Well, Pidge was alive. His undead arse sure wasn’t getting any closer to living

“Okay, that’s enough, losers. I’m gonna go set the tapes up. Hopefully we’ll see something good”

“Or not. Not seeing anything is good too. Lance, go make sure she doesn’t edit the video in some way... I’m going to have nightmares tonight as it is”

“I’ve got you, bud. Come on, Gremlin. Let’s go set up your videos”

Lance had nearly let himself forget there were two strangers in his house. He couldn’t actually forget, but he was trying his damn hardest as he let Pidge’s techno-babble wash over him. He’d never met Matt in person, but Pidge’s missing him was bringing up how much he missed his own siblings. Mami would let him know how they’re doing, keeping him in the family loop. It had to be Papi’s funeral when he’s last seen them all. Lance lying through his teeth that he was named after his father, Lance, to pass off his young looks. He missed his papi. His papi had worked hard all his life, a farmer through and through, with every analogy somehow farm related. Especially when it came to his tractor, that was the man’s default go to when explaining anything, or attempting to have a father and son chat. He missed him something fierce, like he missed his siblings. None of them had invited him to his papi’s wake, Lance felt like he shouldn’t even be at the service, but his Mami gripped his hand and kept him close the whole time. She was the only one who wasn’t afraid of him. Lance hated them all for leaving him, but he loved them all because when they were kids things were so much less complicated. Late night bonfires, hunting on the farm, surfing, dancing in the rain. Huge family Christmas’s where it felt like everyone in town showed up. Kids in and out the the house, not like Christmases now days where he’d spend time with his Mami in the morning, taking her to church for mass then out for a drive, blow off his friends, binge bad rom-coms come evening and cook a feast up for Blue.

Smacked in the face with a flying TV remote Lance was forced back out of his self loathing shell. He had a good life, and even better friends. There was nothing wrong with the way he lived, and he had a sense pride in the work he did. Not all cases went his way, but he his head on better than most as far he was concerned

“What the fuck?”

“That’s for tuning out when I was trying to talk to me”

“You hit me in the face”

“Good. I was aiming for you chest, if that help”

Lance rose a finger to poke at his eyebrow where the remote had hit, there didn’t seem to be any blood, so he supposed he could let Pidge off

“You have my undivided attention. What did I miss?”

“I was saying it’s good to go, whenever Hunk gets here”

“You know he’s really going to have nightmares tonight”

“Then he can crawl into bed with you”

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Uh, hello. I’m a girl, and Shay’s a girl”

Lance rolled his eyes

“Really? I hadn’t noticed”

“I’m just saying, don’t wanna make things complicated”

“There’s nothing going on between you two. It’s fine, you’ve shared a bed before”

“But not when Hunk was this close to finally getting a girlfriend”

Pidge held her fingers together, rather than the normal tiny gap

“Fine, but he sleeps in your room and you sleep with the light on”

“What are we? Twelve?”

“Awww, did little Pidge sleep with the light on all the way up to 12?”

“Oh, fuck you. You’re only like 2 years older than me. I bet you kept your night light on until you last night”

Pidge’s face said she was thinking over her words, knowing that something didn’t quite sit right in what she’d said, but if he was to point that out, he’d be hit for having the nerve

“Yep. I’m completely hopeless. Who knows what lurks in the dark. What if the monster under my bed attacked my feet because they hung over? What would I do then?”

“You’re such an arsehole”

“Hey, Blue has a stage where my toes were her mortal enemy”

“I’m going to tell Blue you’re going around telling everyone she’s a monster”

“By definition, all cats are arseholes. She knows she’s the cutest little monster that’s too tiny to take me down”

“Dude, she’s got you wrapped around her little finger?”

“Oh, so Lance has a girlfriend?”

Caught up in Pidge, Lance hadn’t heard Shiro approaching. He damp near jumped out of his skin at the unexpected voice

“No, this loser is unlucky in love, like the rest of us”

“Ah...”

Shiro sounded confused, Lance embarrassed

“We’re talking about my cat. She’s a pint sized monster. She’s probably going to be cranky all night because I didn’t give her more wet food”

“Ah, I see now...”

The silence that fell was awkward as fuck... Right. He had to be a good host

“We’re going to watch what Pidge filmed tonight, if you’re up to it. Hunk’s cookies should be done soon...”

“Oh, I was thinking Keith and I might just head to bed. You know, get out of your hair”

“Dude, you have to try Hunk’s cookies. They’re like a gift from god”

Shiro gave a nervous laugh, not everyone got Pidge’s humour, or brashness

“When you put it like that, how can I say no?”

Pidge clapped her hands

“Excellent. Now, the most important thing of all, do you believe in ghosts?”

“I can’t really say one way or another. I do have a friend that’s into that sort of thing”

“Then the next time you talk to them, you’re going to sound like a total expert. Sit down and buckle up, it’s time for an adventure into what lies beyond”

Pidge waved her fingers as her voice adopted a spooky tone for the “what lies beyond” part. Poor Shiro was coping Pidge totally nerding out. At least if she managed to scare him away, Lance wouldn’t have to worry about crossing paths with him, or his brother, ever again. Ugh. Being nice was exhausting.

#once bitten twice stupid #vampire Lance #vld au #ashratherose #mpreg #waaaaaaay future references #klance

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ericsonclan · 3 years

Text

Worth the Price

Summary: Now that the crew is safe Louis's heart and mind starts becoming plagued by other things.

Word Count: 1000+

Read on AO3:

Read Ch 1:

Lose her. Louis was about to lose her. That's all that was going through the young captain’s head as he saw Dorian’s blade getting closer and closer to his love. Desperately he used his weapon and whacked the side of her head with all his might. The sound it made, of the skull cracking under the pressure, the squelching of the brain and blood, made Louis feel sick to his stomach. The empty look in the Delta pirate’s eyes, the way her life had so easily been snuffed out. It was terrifying.

Looking down at his hands, Louis felt his body begin to shake. There was blood - copious, unrelenting amounts. He tried to brush and wipe it off but no matter what it stayed the same. At least the others were safe. The captain looked up and felt his heart drop. Everyone was dead. Their bodies scattered across Ol’ Kickass and the Delta ship. Blood covered the deck and Louis struggled against its warm, sticky nature. The smell was overwhelming him and with each step he took it seemed more blood coated him, weighing him down. Louis wrestled to step forward; his strength gave out and he slipped into the bloody depths.

The captain jolted awake, causing his hammock to sway this way and that. His breathing was uneven and small beads of sweat trickled down his face. It was that same nightmare again. The same one he had been plagued with ever since they had barely survived the attack with the Delta. No, that wasn't exactly true. He had only been cursed with these nightmares after they had successfully brought Sophie back from the brink of death. His body and mind had been so focused on making sure his whole crew survived that hellish battle that he had been granted peace from any nightmares. But now that he had a small semblance of peace of mind it seemed like fate had decided to snatch that away.

Slowly Louis got up from his hammock, his eyes scanning around the room to make sure everyone was still there and alright. Once he had made sure everyone was there he moved to the door. Gently opening it he tiptoed down the hall and up the stair to the upper decks. His dreadlocks swayed softly with the late night breeze. The wind blew through his shirt and caused the captain to give a little shiver. Looking over at the ship’s wheel he saw Omar who was ever diligently keeping his eyes trained on the seas. The cook glanced away for a moment and gave a short nod to Louis. A faint smile appeared on Louis’ lips then he continued to wander forward. His hands rested on the side of the ship when suddenly the gentle notes of a flute drifted through the air. It was a more somber song. The notes felt lost as if searching for a path to take but each time it settled the song grew frantic once more before turning into a quiet tune. Louis glanced over to see Marlon sitting on the bowsprit with his reddish brown flute. His right leg dangled off the side of the bowsprit while his head rested on his left knee. His blue eyes searched the darks seas, as if hoping it held the secret answers to the questions swirling round in his heart.

“Marlon?” Louis’ voice startled the blond pirate, nearly making him lose his balance.

“Shit, Lou. Nearly gave me a heart attack,” Marlon pushed back his hair then rose from his spot and began to make his way back on the deck. He knew better than to taunt fate with a chance to get him soaked.

“Sorry,” Louis looked over at his best friend and noticed the bags under his eyes. “Couldn't sleep?”

“It's been kind of hard since what happened two days ago,” The pirate’s eyes focused on the ground before he moved over and leaned against the side of the ship. Louis knew what his friend was talking about. Marlon had decided to come clean and be honest with Sophie about the lie he told the day the Delta pirates attacked. Louis knew that Sophie would be upset but to the level she was… He still could recall that day perfectly.

“I don’t know if this is a smart idea. Sophie has only had a few days of being awake.” Brody crossed her arms and looked over at Marlon. The street rats looked between their two friends - the tension in the air was slowly building.

“I have to tell her. Ruby said that no matter what time I say it it's bound to be bad so I might as well get it over with now,” Marlon glanced over at the auburn pirate who still clearly disagreed with his choice.

“Does it even need to be cleared up, though?” Brody’s question made Marlon and the street rats look over in shock. “Listen, I know that Soph will learn that Minerva didn’t make it. There’s no hiding that. But what good does it do to reveal that you lied to her? Wouldn’t it be better to move forward and forget it?”

“Could you forget it if you promised Mitch you’d go back for Willy? Or Violet? Or Tenn?” Marlon’s question made Brody hide her eyes.

“No, I couldn’t.”

A moment of awkward silence passed between the crewmembers.

“Okay. I wanna ask you to wait but based on that look in your eyes you won’t do that.” Brody took a deep breath.

“We should have Ruby in there when you tell Soph,” Violet added in, making the others look towards her.

“We should be there too. So she doesn’t feel alone.” Willy jumped in and Tenn nodded along. So the pirates split off to prepare for the confession. After twenty minutes everything was set up. Tenn sat beside Sophie’s hammock and gingerly held his sister’s hand. The rest of the street rat kids save for Mitch who was still too weak to join stood in the room nearby. Ruby was there at the ready after letting Sophie know that her bandages had been cleaned and that even if it was just by a little bit her arms were getting better. Sophie smiled warmly.

“Yeah, that's great. Looks like I’m gonna be up and sparring in no time.” The redhead smiled around the room at her crewmembers.

“Better watch out or I’ll be winning all the bets,” Marlon gave a confident smile as he leaned his body against the door frame.

“Don’t count on it. I may be injured now but these wounds-” Sophie paused as a wave of pain washed over her, causing her to take a shaky breath. Violet and Willy moved forward, both having concerned expressions on their faces while Tenn gave Sophie’s hand a gentle squeeze. “It's okay. I’m okay.” The redheaded pirate reassured them but they didn’t buy it. “What I was going to say is now that Minnie is here too, you’ll see just how powerful me and my twin really are!” Sophie’s proud declaration was met with silence and somber expressions. The sight confused the pirate. Her eyes scanned each and every face. All of them held the same sadness.

“Sophie,” Marlon’s voice caught in his throat. He took a deep breath then started once more. “Minerva didn’t make it.”

Sophie’s eyes grew large and her hand that held Tenn’s tightened. “What?”

“The Delta ship was sinking and she wasn’t able to cross,”

Marlon’s words made Sophie shake her head. “You’re joking, right? Tell me you're joking.” She searched her close friend’s face and saw that he was speaking the truth. Tears began to slide down the redhead’s face. First coming down slowly before falling in copious amounts. There was no way. Minnie was dead? After all those years and all that hardship, to have it all end with her life snuffed out and her body floating at the bottom of the sea. Sophie’s mind was consumed by sorrow and her body began to shake with emotion.

“You promised though, you said you’d go back for her,” Sophie’s eyes were focused on her bandaged hands.

“I lied.”

Those words felt like a dagger in Sophie’s heart, slicing it open and deflating any naive hope that was still left inside.

“I told you that because I saw the state you and Tenn were in. If I had gone back for her, you would’ve bleed out and everyone on the Delta’s ship would have gone under with it.”

Sophie’s mind didn’t register his words. Her heart was too consumed by the betrayal and the hatred that came with it. The redheaded pirate gritted her teeth and rose up to her feet. Immediately she began to stumble and sway this way and that until she lost her balance and fell.

“Sophie!” Tenn moved forward along with the others.

Sophie ignored their help though and tried to rise to her feet. Pressing her hands against the floor she began to rise but within seconds it was obvious that her arms were not strong enough. The stitches stretched and tore, blood beginning to seep and coat the pirate’s arms. Sophie collapsed once more.

“Sophie!” Marlon moved forward to help.

“Stay the fuck away from me!” the pirate hissed and used all her strength to try once more. Her body was screaming out in pain and agony but it felt like so little to the inner sorrow and turmoil of her heart. Blood dripped to the floor mixing with the tears that fell from Sophie’s face. “I never want to see you again! You hear me? I don’t want to see your face!” Sophie tried to move forward but slipped due to her limp, useless arms and the blood. “I hate you! You promised and now Minnie… now Minnie…” Sophie continued to cry until she let herself wail in sorrow.

Tenn moved closer and wrapped his sister in a hug as tears slipped down his face while his body trembled. Ruby ran forward and began to help clean up the mess and patch Sophie’s newly opened wounds. Marlon watched in silence before he hid his eyes from the others.

Marlon’s eyes focused on the upper decks then looked out into the calm waves.

“I said one time that I didn’t care if she ended up hating my fucking guts. As long as she survived that's all that matters. But now this... it's too painful. I know I’m being selfish and greedy, but I just want the friendship back. ” Tears began to escape the blond pirate’s eyes and splatter onto the deck. Louis reached out his hand and placed it on Marlon’s shoulder. Marlon glanced back at his best friend and soon the pair were hugging each other tightly. The two stayed in that hug for a while until Marlon pulled back and wiped his eyes with his shirt.

“It's obvious you couldn’t sleep either. Wanna open your heart up too?” Marlon gave a small smile over to his captain that faded when he saw that Louis wasn’t returning it. “Louis?”

The captain remained quiet for a few more seconds then looked up at Marlon. “Do you think it's ever right to break our code?”

The question made the blond pirate’s eyes grow large for a second before he glanced away. He looked off into the vast darkness of the night for a few seconds. “Is this because of that woman you killed? The day we battled the Delta pirates?”

“I can’t get the image of her dead body out of my mind. That moment plays and replays in my nightmares. Makes me wonder, y’know, if it was the right thing to do.” Louis walked over to the side of the ship, resting his elbows on the wood.

“Louis, Clem is alive, right?”

Marlon’s words made the captain look over. “Yeah.”

“So is AJ,”

“Marlon-”

“That one act you did saved lives. Hell, it probably helped make sure that we all made it out alive. That code is there for a reason: to make sure we don’t randomly kill our enemies whether that be due to ease or anger.” Marlon looked down at his knuckles. A few seconds passed before he spoke once more. “I’ve already told you that I almost broke the code too.”

That statement made Louis look up at his best friend.

“The battle was hell. Everything seemed to be going wrong and so many were getting hurt and I let my anger overtake me. I punched that bastard in the face again and again and again when it suddenly hit me. I would be killing out of anger, an anger that scared me. So I backed away. But with your case, Lou, you were protecting the ones you loved. You were protecting your family.” Marlon scratched the side of his face then leaned forward. “So, I guess what I’m trying to say is yes, there are cases where it's okay to break the code. We have friends who have killed in the past, we have members that have killed while being an Ericson pirate. Do you look at them any differently?”

“No,” Louis shook his head, making his dreads sway.

“Do you respect or care about them less?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Then there’s your answer. None of us think badly of you for doing what you did. You broke the code the right way.” Marlon’s words bounced around in Louis’ mind before settling in his heart. The two stood around in silence for a few minutes.

“Okay, you’re probably right,” Louis looked down at the ground.

“I know I am. You’re a good captain, Louis.” Marlon wrapped his arm around Louis’ shoulder. The two friends shared a smile before the conversation turned to lighter, happier topics. Soon the minutes turned into hours and the sun was rising up.

“Damn, I should go and get started on my morning chores,” Marlon kicked off the side of the ship and strolled forward.

“Marlon,” Louis’ voice made the blond glance back at him. “Thanks for the words.”

“Anytime, Louis, anytime,” With a final wave Marlon went on his way, leaving the captain to his thoughts. Louis’ gaze turned to the rising sun and a confident, soft smile appeared on his lips. Maybe Marlon’s words were right and maybe he could finally get some sleep.

It seemed to be a false hope though - his nightmares didn’t fade away. That very night he suffered from the same one as the night before. The smell and feeling of blood overwhelmed him as he stared down at his bloody hands before looking down at the life he had snuffed out and the crew he had failed to protect. With a shaky gasp Louis woke up and pushed back his dreadlocks from his sweat-drenched face.

Slipping out from the room, he wandered towards the upper decks once more, in part to get some fresh air and space but also in hopes that he could speak to Marlon again. But as the captain glanced around it was clear that Marlon wasn’t there. With a groan he looked up to the starry sky before he noticed Violet sitting up on one of the beams attached to the main mast. Louis stared at his friend for a moment, wondering whether to go up there and join her for a bit or not. After a few minutes he decided to go for it and began to climb up to her. As he got closer he noticed that she was spinning around her dagger. Her eye studied it closely.

“Hey, Vi.” Louis’ voice startled the blonde pirate, making her fumble her weapon.

“Louis!” Violet hissed, clearly annoyed that he had almost made her drop her dagger. “What the hell are you doing up?”

“Couldn’t sleep. You?” Louis took a spot beside his crewmate.

Violet was silent for a few seconds. “Been hard to do that lately. With the aftermath of that shitstorm of a day and then with Sophie nearly-” Violet’s voice caught in her throat for a second. “I sleep if I can.”

“Yeah,” Louis kicked his feet anxiously. His mind began to turn back to the images of that nightmare. It still felt so real, every single detail. Was it his guilt that was forming these nightmares? Did any of the others suffer the same? Did Violet with the kill of that Delta pirate? He glanced over at his friend then looked away.

“Just ask. I can tell something is up.” Violet spun the dagger between her hands once more.

“Do you regret killing that Delta pirate?”

His question made Violet pause. “No.” she replied simply then placed away her weapon in its sheath. Her right knee drew closer to her chest while her right arm casually rested upon it. She looked out towards the sea that looked like a dark blue blotch to her. A small frown appeared on her lips when she felt Louis’ eyes on her. “I don’t regret it because I did what I had to to survive. Besides, it made sure I could go and help the others out that day.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Louis fidgeted with his coat.

“If you feel guilt or some shit for killing that pirate that day, you shouldn’t. Clem is only alive thanks to you.” The wind picked up and caused Violet’s blonde hair to sway this way and that. “What we did that day, it was to survive and protect those we cared about. That's never wrong.”

Louis sat in silence, letting those words sink in and soak in his heart. Two nights now he had heard similar words and each he knew them to be true. It didn't seem like they would instantly take away the nightmares or his own inner struggles but they would help. For even if he had to struggle for a bit longer with this, it would be okay. His crew was alive. They were safe and as long as that was true he would do whatever it took to keep things that way. For at the end of the day, his family’s well-being was worth any price.

#twdg #twdg louis #twdg marlon #twdg violet #twdg dorian #louis marlon brotp #louis violet brotp #fanfic #a pirate's life for me au

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howtodrawyourdragon · 4 years

Text

A Warm Snoggletog Heart

Summary: Set during RttE. The Riders decided that one of the best things about having Dragon's Edge was the excuse to celebrate everything twice.

A birthday? They would have a party on both Berk and the Edge. A holiday? A celebration on Berk and the Edge. Snoggletog? That absolutely needed to be celebrated twice!

And this year, they have something particularly special in mind for Hiccup.

Rating: General

Words: 1 481

Author’s Notes: Wrote this in a day because someone from a whump Discord server I'm a part of gave me the motivation for it. Usually, I wait with posting fics until the weekends, so there's a little bit of time between finishing and revising it one last time before I post it. But I wanted it out before tomorrow and since I'll probably be gone tomorrow, I decided to do it all today.

Constructive criticism is appreciated!

Enjoy!

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The Riders decided that one of the best things about having Dragon's Edge was the excuse to celebrate everything twice.

A birthday? They would have a party on both Berk and the Edge. A holiday? Again, a celebration on Berk and the Edge. Snoggletog? That absolutely needed to be celebrated twice!

So when Snoggletog came around, Hiccup and the Dragon Riders returned home to share this time with their families only to then go back to their base away from home to share it with just each other.

It wasn't as crazy as their parents probably thought it was going to be.

Astrid used her iron fist to make sure the decorations put up were perfect and up to her standards as she and Tuffnut worked together on that. Snotlout and Ruffnut were put in charge of gathering the favorite meals of the dragons so they would have something of a feast as well. And Fishlegs was made to help Hiccup get dinner ready.

All in all, it wasn't supposed to be a big celebration. It was rather small and intimate, held in the clubhouse.

That was where they were. They'd just eaten dinner, it was time for presents.

Snotlout may have actually squealed in excitement. Astrid already promised him she would never let him live that down.

"An axe! Yes!" Astrid shouted excitedly, holding the double-headed weapon. It was much like Heather's, except more her style. Less rough and more elegant. With complimentary skulls. Her cheeks and eyes lit up.

"Oh yay! Another one!" Snotlout rolled his eyes next to her.

"Thank you, Hiccup!" She told him, though her smile was more than enough of a gift for him.

"Uh, how do you know it didn't come from us?" Ruffnut asked.

"Because it's an axe, Ruff. Do you know how to make one?" She asked, though she wasn't particularly annoyed. Her day was made.

"Heather and I actually collaborated on that one. She mentioned to me how you really wanted one like hers, so we worked on it together. We each did one half and we exchanged some secrets. Blacksmith to blacksmith. It's like a Snoggletog gift and a "thank you for letting me stay in your hut" gift combined." Hiccup explained. As Astrid took a closer look, she did see some marks she didn't recognize as made by Hiccup's hand.

So this was Heather's signature. She would remember them too.

"So... What did I get?" Fishlegs could hardly wait. He was having a hard time sitting still on his chair.

It was Snotlout who gave him his present.

"From me to you." He told him and gave it to him in the most dramatic Snotlout-esque way possible.

"Awww, thank you, Snotlout!" Fishlegs responded as he accepted the gift. It appeared to be a book. Opening it up, he found detailed sketches of plants inside and he gasped.

"Is this what I think it is?!"

"The Beauty of Botany Volume Three? That's exactly what you're looking at!" Snotlout exclaimed. It was hidden behind a smirk, but he was just as excited as Fishlegs was. Snoggletog was one of the few times a year he let his generosity shine. This side to him was exclusively for Snoggletog and birthdays only.

Fishlegs grinned from ear to ear as he skimmed through its pages. He was as happy as a Nadder at a Chicken buffet.

"So everyone's got their presents, only one victim remains." Ruffnut was particularly menacing as she spoke up, leaning on her knees with her elbows.

Snotlout's gift had been a bludgeon similar to his very first, which he had lost again. The twins had absolutely nothing to do with its disappearance, they had assured Snotlout of this.

What Tuffnut was given was something made for Chicken. It was a little custom-made bed for her because Tuff had complained about it being unfair that he got a bed, but not Chicken.

As for Ruff's gift, it was a handmade lotion of fish oil for her hair created out of rare and exotic ingredients that were quite expensive on the market. She had immediately slathered her hair with it.

Hiccup was the person she was talking about, but for once, he wasn't particularly worried. The Riders watched as Tuffnut got up to grab it.

He quickly returned with something obscured by cloth and he handed it over to Hiccup, who took it.

He stared at the gift his friends decided to give him. He was certainly curious, that was for sure. It was the only one wrapped up.

He didn't quite notice it, all of his attention was on the object held in his hands, but anticipation amongst the Riders grew. They were all sitting on the edge of their seats as they watched Hiccup unwrap it.

It turned out to be a plush toy. Of Toothless! Well, he was pretty sure it was a stuffed animal version of his Night Fury, it looked quite odd.

"It's Toothless!" He was puzzled, but he was smiling nonetheless. The Night Fury himself came over from his corner to sit closer to look at the toy when he heard his name leave Hiccup's lips. He was intrigued.

But Hiccup's smile slowly faltered as he took a closer look at Toy Toothless' oddities.

He had tiny, tiny skulls for eyes. The kind he knew only one person to wear, except they were even smaller. He recognized Snotlout's stitching. The "hide" was knitted patches of black wool. Toothless' "nubs" were braided in a very specific way. And if he had to guess, the stuffing must be chicken feathers.

That's when it hit him.

His friends had made this for him. All of them had left their marks on it. This was something they worked on together. For him!

He was speechless.

"Take another look at the skulls." Hiccup didn't know when his friends decided to move in behind him, but he noticed when Astrid spoke up and pointed towards the plush's eyes. He did as he was told and saw that they were painted a dark green. Forest green.

"Do you think he realizes we made it for him?" Tuffnut asked his sister in whispers loud enough for all of them to hear.

"Oh yeah, I think he does." Ruffnut replied, proud of herself. Her arms were crossed in fulfillment.

As Hiccup looked at its eyes, there was one more detail on the doll left for him to find out.

Turning it slightly, he noticed that his emblem had been stitched onto it.

They had all put little bits and pieces of themselves in the toy and they made sure a little bit of Hiccup was in there as well.

"We saw that you brought the toy your mom made you to the Edge and thought "Hey! You like that one! Why not make another one?" So we did!" Snotlout explained. It looked like he'd been waiting to do so.

The Riders had expected many different reactions from Hiccup. Long ago, when the idea had first struck them, they even decided to take a bet and see who could nail their leader's reaction.

They hadn't expected him to cry.

Tears spilled from his eyes and he sniffed. His smile was the biggest they'd ever seen on his face.

"Hiccup?" Astrid asked, hands on his shoulders. Hiccup let his head hang as a single sob escaped.

"Oh no, we broke him!" Tuffnut loudly exclaimed with his hands on his helmet. Ruffnut smacked him hard.

"Look what you've done to him!" She accused him of an utmost heinous crime. Snotlout came and banged their helmets together.

"Ugh, muttonheads!"

Maybe it was all the stress getting to him or maybe he truly was that touched by their gesture, but Hiccup couldn't help himself.

"Hiccup?"

"I'm-I'm fine, guys. I'm fine." The level of control in his voice backed it up.

"I'm just... I'm just really touched, I..." He tried wiping his cheeks dry with his sleeves, but it was useless.

Smiling sympathetically, Astrid bend down to wrap her arms around his shoulders to pull him into a hug. The waterworks were going with her too, albeit slightly less than they were with Hiccup.

"So sensitive!" Snotlout complained with a shake of his head, even though he jumped on the chance to share a group hug with the rest of the Riders. He grabbed both Astrid and Hiccup into a hold that was more of a headlock than an actual hug. They laughed.

"Ah-ha! A way to fix this!" Tuffnut joked and embraced the three of them. Huffing, Ruffnut joined in.

"Oh, you guys!" Fishlegs spoke and completed the hug by wrapping his arms around the entire group.

All of them smiled, nobody let go. The toy dragon his mother made for him so long ago now had a friend. And Hiccup, he found this to be the warmest Snoggletog yet.

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