#'he only self heals' well heres a fun little tidbit of information for you you see the thing is that hes a tank

[janeykath318]

All I Want For Christmas (Shieldshock)

When are you going to finally tell him?” Jane hissed at her assistant, whose eyes were following the departing figure of one Steve Rogers with a great deal of admiration, leaning into thirst. 

Darcy immediately turned her gaze back to Jane, affecting ignorance. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said primly. “Who wouldn’t admire The Star Spangled Hunk With a Plan?” 

Jane snorted. “That was more than the average “admiration.” I know you better than that.” 

Darcy huffed and affixed her gaze sternly on the screen she was monitoring, hoping to discourage Jane from any further conversation on the topic. It was absurd. She was just another casual fangirl. It was perfectly natural. Who didn’t have a slight crush on Captain America?

“Ohh, Janey!” She exclaimed, glad for a diversion. “I think you’re gonna like these readings! We’re getting some good data here!”

Science quickly took over and Jane completely forgot about her matchmaking interests for the ensuing thirty six hours science binge! 

When it was over Darcy dragged Jane to bed, and stumbled blearily towards her own room, soon falling into blissful dreams of a blonde haired super soldier.

She woke with a gasp after a particularly vivid dream where she’d swooped her up and kissed her hard, heart fluttering wildly.

“I’m in so much trouble,” she groaned, burying her face under the pillow and willing herself to think of something—anything else!

When she and Jane had first moved into the tower, the only residents they’d met had been Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff. Both were badass and very fun to hang out with. As for Steve Rogers, she’d seen him mostly from a distance when he’d been talking to Tony in a lab or working out in a gym. 

The first encounter was in the spacious kitchen that most of the Avengers shared. Darcy was searching  for some ingredients for her famous banana waffles when she came face to face with a very bedraggled, bruised, and battered Captain America.

“Dude!” she’d gasped out. “Are you okay? You look like Thor took his hammer to your face.”

He’d smiled weakly, then winced as if it hurt to use any facial muscles. 

“I’ll be okay. S’already healing. Looking for an ice pack.” 

“Lucky for you, we’ve got a fair selection. Clint and Natasha use them a LOT.” Darcy rummaged in the freezer and found one, which she offered to him. “This work?” 

He’d accepted it with a grateful look and a quiet “Thank You.” 

“Rough mission?” she asked, sympathetically.”

“That’s an understatement,” he’d said wearily. “I’m sorry for disturbing you, ma’am. I’m going to go sit down before I fall down. Thanks, again.”

With that he’d excused himself and limped away, leaving Darcy a touch concerned, but also, wowed. 

The next time she saw him was sopping wet, stalking through the halls with a murderous expression that made Darcy scamper to stay out of his way. She’d never seen Captain America make that expression before and it was rather terrifying. Someone was about to get it. 

“Hey, Cap! Who pissed in your Cheerios?” Tony yelled as the angry soldier passed them. 

Steve stopped dead in his tracks. If looks could kill, Tony would have combusted on the spot.

“Are you responsible for this, Stark?” He said through gritted teeth. 

“No, but I wish I was,” the reckless Tony replied cheekily. 

Seeing Steve really was about to lose it, Darcy stepped in to intervene before things got out of hand. Cap wasn’t the type to get mad over a simple prank, so she guessed whatever it was had to have been very thoughtless. 

Stepping back into his path, she gave what she hoped was a winning smile.

“Don’t mind him, Cap. He has no sense of self preservation or tact. If you promise to not kill him, I’ll help you track down the real perpetrator and get revenge. I am an excellent prank detective.”

For a moment, he stared at her like she had two heads, then the frown started to ease and his shoulders relaxed. He wiped at his wet face and sighed heavily. 

“You’re right. I shouldn’t have let it get to me. It’s…..been a…….rough day for me and this was the straw that broke the camel’s back, so to speak. I really don’t like ice water, especially when it’s randomly dumped on my head.”

Now it was Darcy’s turn to frown. The poor man had been frozen for seventy years and this stupid prank had probably triggered him. 

“Yikes, Dude!” She said with a wince. “This calls for teaching a lesson, alright. How about you get into dry clothes and meet me in the lounge? We can start plotting. I think I may know the idiot who would have done this.” 

“Sounds like a plan, Miss….”

“Lewis, Darcy Lewis,” she finished. “And You’re Steve Rogers?” 

“In the flesh,” he confirmed, with a crooked little smile that was all kinds of cute. 

“Well, Steve, I hope you’ll trust me when I say you’ll never have to worry about this kind of thing happening again,” she said firmly. “Just ask Tony what I did when he messed with my coffee supply.” 

She gave her most evil, villainous grin, which made Tony shudder and Steve smile. .

Her dastardly plan was successful enough that Steve was left well enough alone and though he never told her what had been bothering him so much, she did a little searching and the tidbit she found made her ache for the man again. It was the anniversary of the day he’d lost his best friend. 

Darcy commenced Operation Be Kind To Steve shortly after, which involved leaving funny notes in the common areas, making sure there were regular deliveries of his favorite Apple Crumble Pie, and regularly greeting him cheerily when he stopped by the lab. 

After three or four months of this, she was quite smitten and wished she had the guts to ask him out, but with the fall of Shield and Steve’s search for The Winter Soldier, the timing was all wrong. So, she continued to worship from afar and expanded Operation Be Nice To Steve to include Bucky as well. 

Steve, who was looking much happier these days, had been sent by Natasha to inform them their presence was required at the upcoming  Avengers Karaoke night: Holiday Edition. Darcy had instantly accepted for both of them, causing Jane to sigh and try to probe Darcy about her crush. 

After three more science binges and sleeping for twelve hours straight, Darcy was more than ready for some fun. She put on some very flattering dark jeans, a glittery green top, and very long gold dangle earrings which she only wore when she was on “the hunt” so to speak.

Jane grinned knowingly at her and gave her a thumbs up. 

“Go for it, girl!” she encouraged. 

Darcy flushed and headed to the bar to get a drink for courage while Tony crooned Blue Christmas badly. As she sipped her drink and covertly eyed Steve, a familiar redhead joined her. 

“Well, is tonight the night you complete your wooing of Steve Rogers?” Nat asked with a knowing smile, looking over at Steve, who was talking with a shaggy-haired man that Darcy guessed was Bucky. 

“What would give you that idea?” Darcy said coyly, crossing one leg over the other and acting like she was totally chill.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the way you’ve been doing all those nice things for him, and the way you can’t take your eyes off him. Plus, you’re wearing the earrings you only wear when you’re trying to land a man.”

“It’s really annoying to live with so many spies,” Darcy huffed, taking another sip of her drink. Nat laughed. 

“If it helps, he’s been looking at you the same way,” Nat told her.

“Really?” Darcy asked, trying not to sound hopeful or excited.

“Really. I hope you have a good song picked out.” With a wink, Nat slipped away from the bar and strode onto the stage, where she proceeded to bring the house down with a killer version of Silver Bells.

Darcy was glad she didn’t have to follow that up, because, wow! 

Clint ambled on stage and delivered a mocking rendition of “Last Christmas” that had everyone doubled over laughing. His ridiculous falsetto and facial expressions were priceless and Darcy forgot her nervousness in laughter. 

When Clint had taken his bows, Darcy approached the mic and told JARVIS her song selection. Boldly, she locked eyes with Steve and sang right to him. 

“I don’t want a lot for Christmas,

There is just one thing I need, 

I don’t care about the presents 

Underneath the Christmas Tree.

I just want you for my own,

More than you could ever know, 

Make my wish come true, 

All I want for Christmas is you!” 

It was hard to see a reaction at first, but as she repeated the verses again, still looking at him, comprehension dawned, and his blue eyes grew wide, his cheeks started to flush, and a smile appeared that almost took Darcy’s breath away. 

Oh, wow. 

Had he just smoldered at her? 

“I just want you for my own

More than you could ever know

Make my wish come true

All I want for Christmas is you!”

Before she’d even finished, he was on his feet and heading toward her. She could hear the other avengers giggling and whispering, but tuned it out once he got close. 

“Was that for me?” Steve asked.

Darcy’s face grew very warm under his searching gaze, and she slowly nodded.

“Yeah. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, but I just had to get it out there,” she said, heart in her throat. 

Steve looked at her and she looked back, mesmerized by his expression. 

Then, he bent down and made her dream come true by kissing her very decisively in a way that made her knees weak and left her in no doubt as to whether the interest was mutual.

“I’ll take that as a yes?” She gasped teasingly when they’d pulled apart. 

Steve nodded. 

“I Uh…..have been wanting to say something for awhile,” he admitted. “But I kept chickening out. Bucky here will tell you I’m no good at talking to pretty gals, and you are downright gorgeous.” 

Darcy’s heart fluttered at his compliment.

“You’re off to a pretty good start so far,” she told him, with a flirty eyebrow waggle. “How about we get out of here and find someplace more private?” 

“I’d like that,” Steve agreed, still holding her hand. 

[raendown]

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 3648 Chapter: 35/42 Summary: Not all wars are fought on the battlefield. Some are fought at the conference table, with whispers in the shadows, or even in the bedroom.

In a world where the Senju and Uchiha traditional lands were too far apart to have ever made them enemies, Butsuma and Tajima are the ones who come together and sign a treaty of peace. Madara isn’t happy to have his life signed away for him in a political marriage to strengthen the bond between their clans. He is even less happy to have Tobirama make assumptions of him from their very first night together. What follows from there is a journey of healing, of learning, and finding the places to belong in the places least expected.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

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Chapter 35

For as many times as he had yelled at his brother for spouting similar flowery nonsense it was possible he owed Hashirama an apology or two and yet even that thought wasn’t enough to stop him from noticing just how bright the sunlight was today, how crisp the shapes of first frost on every windowpane. Every smile he passed only increased his cheer and if it wouldn’t be so out of character he might have stopped to laugh with some of the happy citizens walking by. Not even the much more reserved atmosphere of the Senju district was enough to dampen his spirits, a spring in his step all the way to his brother’s house where he let himself in without knocking as was his habit. Mito took one look at him and turned her head away to smother a laugh. 

“Good morning, ane,” he called, too cheerful to find any annoyance in her reaction to what was surely a foolish look on his own face. She waved him further in to the home without a word. With a low chuckle he followed the direction she had waved in and found Hashirama watering a few plants in a small side room they frequently claimed was meant for an eventual child. Judging by the sheer amount of flora contained within these four small walls Tobirama sometimes wondered if they weren’t a little more nervous than they let on about the idea of procreating. 

“Hi Tobi! Good morning!” His brother offered a blinding smile, trying to wave and water a small potted tree at the same time only to shake water all over the floor. 

“It certainly is a good morning. I trust you fared well while we were away?”

As soon as the words were out of his mouth Hashirama dropped the watering can and hurried over to feel his forehead. “Tobi are you okay? Did you get sick on your trip?”

“Begging your pardon?”

“Oh dear! It’s worse than I thought!” 

To his utter bafflement Hashirama pulled him back out to the living room and pressed him down in to the closest chair, babbling to Mito the moment they entered her view. “Darling, my dearest, something is wrong. Could you fetch me the blanket from the couch there? He’s not acting himself!” 

“I am perfectly fine, anija.” Tobirama chuckled and then chuckled harder when the sound elicited a small fit from his sibling.

“You asked if we were okay while you were gone! You never ask that! And you’re being all polite and kind and – oh dear. Oh dear, oh dear. I hope Madara isn’t sick too!” he turned to his wife with an indecisive frown. “Should we check on him or do you think it would make him angry?”

“For goodness sake, man, I said that I’m fine! Control your husband ane!” 

“Ane!?”

To his great amusement Hashirama's eyes rolled back in his head and he sank down on the couch next to his wife, fanning himself with one hand like a gentlelady experiencing the vapors. On any other day Tobirama knew he would have been fuming with temper at so many insults against his character – to be so worried about him simply for a little politeness! – but his mood was too good and today nothing felt wrong with the world. Today he had enough patience to simply recline in his chair and watch with a mild expression as Mito lost the battle with her own self-control and let slip one single string of giggles.

“Peace, husband, he’s perfectly fine,” she told him. 

“Now you too!?” he cried. “What is going on with you two?”

Reaching over to pat him on the knee, Mito took a few deep breaths to calm herself. “He had sex, darling, he’s just in a very good mood.”

Like the brave woman she was she made it all the way through her entire sentence before breaking down and exploding in to a full on giggling fit. Tobirama cocked his head to watch her, wishing for a moment that he could record her like the Sharingan could. What excellent blackmail this would have made. 

A very small piece of his mood was soured when Hashirama shot up on the couch with a ramrod straight back and a smile bright enough to light the entire village at the witching hour. “Oh! Excellent! Finally! I really was beginning to worry about the two of you again. Madara explained his clan’s customs to me – and I respect them! – it just doesn’t seem very healthy to me for a married couple to ignore that part of their relationship.”

“What if one person in the couple doesn’t like sex?” Tobirama asked, more in the mood for gentle teasing than to allow Hashirama of all people to offer opinions on something he thought had been going fairly well for a while now. Also it was fun to watch the man flail as though terrified he might have offended someone.

“Of course! It’s their choice! I just meant–”

“Did you ever ask Madara if he was even interested in that? How do you know I didn’t just tie him to the bed and have my way?”

Hashirama clapped both hands to the sides of his face, horrified. “Tobi! You wouldn’t!”

“But how do you know I didn’t?” He was so glad he’d come here first before visiting Touka. This was much more entertaining than her easy acceptance would have been. 

“Please tell me you didn’t? Oh Tobirama, I’m so disappointed, you two have been getting along so much better lately. He’s going to be so angry. Do you think I should go see him? Maybe I can settle him down, talk to him and keep him calm. You should apologize!” On and on he went, completely unaware of Mito rolling her eyes beside him, until finally Tobirama cut him off with a loud huff. 

“I am, quite frankly, very insulted you’re taking this so seriously. Do you honestly think I would ever force anyone in such a manner? I know I was just joking about it but it’s not actually a joking matter.” Tobirama frowned reprovingly. “Honestly, what must you think of me?” 

He was pleased to see that brought Hashirama up short. The man fell utterly still and one could almost physically watch the wheels turning in his mind and he processed the fact that he’d been had. It seemed to take even longer for him to figure out what to do with that information but eventually he sagged back next to his wife and drew one hand down his face as though exhausted by so much difficult thought all at once. When he met Tobirama’s eyes again he was grinning in relief. 

“You really had me going there!” he said and Tobirama only shook his head.

“Only because you make it too easy for me to do so. Truly if I weren’t in such a good mood I would be very upset with you right now.” 

Hashirama laughed nervously and offered a dozen or so apologies before Tobirama let the subject drop, turning to strike up a conversation with Mito instead. The visit ended up being quite a pleasant one despite the insult he suffered at Hashirama's assumption. After all the personal gossip had been traded and Tobirama had made enough hints at the events of his rather delightful night without actually giving them any details their chat finally turned back towards the purpose of his visit. 

Where most might have spoken with their coworkers or others in their department to catch up on what had happened in the village during an absence Tobirama knew better. The best method was to hope Mito was available and in a proper mood to spill a few secrets. Butsuma may not consider her part of the official spy network but the size of her web of connections was rivalled by very few and Tobirama knew no better hub of information than his dear sister in law. All it took was a few questions worded just right and he was perfectly caught up not only on the official things he had missed but also a few unofficial ones as well, gossip that didn’t really pertain to him but could be useful if he encountered the right circumstances. 

The one little tidbit which caught his attention the most was from a team who had travelled in the opposite direction of the capitol and came back reporting strange chakra activity in the area. Without a sensor in their group they hadn’t been able to say anything more specific than that but it was just odd enough of a warning to make Tobirama curious about what anyone else travelling through the area might have to say. For a non-sensor type to feel strange chakra activity there had to be quite a large amount of it. If he were a less responsible man he might have skipped out of the village to go look in to things himself. 

Once Mito finally ran out of gossip she was willing to share he stuck around for a little while longer, bearing his brother’s teasing about how often he smiled in the few short hours of his visit and quite proud of himself for resisting the urge to retaliate even once. At least his sister in law wasn’t quite so loud and brash about her own ribbing. When he left he made his way through the backyard to pop in on Touka where he suffered through more than twice as much teasing as he’d gotten from the other two, though once again he managed to let it all flow off his back with the help of his unnaturally good mood. It was, he told himself, nice to see his beloved family so happy even if it was at his own expense. 

Leaving Touka’s he was still in high enough spirits he had to concentrate in order to keep his face from breaking out in to a ridiculous smile as he walked back home. The office could wait for tomorrow. Whatever paperwork had piled up in his absence would still be there when he was actually on the clock; maybe if he was lucky then the people who were supposed to have been covering his duties while he was away might be inspired to actually do the work before he got there. Probably not but he could hope. 

A very small bit of his good mood dissipated, however, when he reached for the front door of his home and caught a minute flare of chakra from inside. Evidently Izuna had come to visit while he was gone. Tobirama hovered with his fingers wrapped around the door handle, waffling with indecision, hoping neither of the men inside were paying enough attention to feel him there. On the one hand he wanted nothing more than to step inside and spend the rest of his day cozied up next to Madara watching his husband shiver at every touch, hyper aware of him after last night. On the other he knew that Madara had as much right as he did to catch up with family and Izuna had proven time and time again that he just couldn’t be comfortable with Tobirama in the house. Should he leave? It would be the decent thing to do. 

But when had he ever professed to be a decent person? 

In the end Tobirama turned away from the door with a sigh only to creep his way around the outside of his own home and slip in through the window like some common burglar. As long as he stayed quiet and kept his chakra low he could at least be productive here in his home office without disturbing Izuna’s visit. The man couldn’t stay forever, after all, and it wouldn’t hurt him to let his husband have at least one decent visit without the two of them ruining everything with their pointless feud. All the white flags in the world wouldn’t matter for shit if Izuna refused to accept the ceasefire he had offered. Stubborn pride would be the death of them both.

The first thing he did was wrinkle his nose and find a rag to wipe off the desk with. After so many hours in their offices at the tower this room didn’t see quite as much use as it probably should. On the all too frequent occasion either of them brought something home to finish they prefered to work in the living room where there would still be a warm body to cuddle up with in reward for being responsible. With his work space a little easier to look at Tobirama was able to comfortably settle himself in the chair he sort of wanted to steal for his own office, pulling out enough parchment to keep himself occupied for a good long while, and settled in to lose himself among the ink. A very small part of his consciousness remained focused on the other side of the house where both Izuna and Madara remained pleasantly calm; it was nice to know they weren’t fighting for once. But for the most part he pulled his chakra inwards and kept his own presence as unobtrusive as possible.

Given a chance to guess he would probably have said he expected to stay in the office for at least a couple more hours if not several. With how volatile things had been between the Uchiha siblings and Izuna stubbornly instigating fights when they were entirely unnecessary he fully understood them taking their time to enjoy a good bonding session. It was therefore quite a surprise to have the door open and both men step in to the room after barely more than a full hour had passed. They stopped as soon as they spotted him there, of course, and Tobirama was so startled all he could do was blink back at them with his own stunned expression.

“When did you get home?” Madara demanded. 

“An hour ago.”

“I didn’t even hear you come in.”

With as straight a face as possible he admitted, “I came in through the window after I sensed Izuna’s presence.” His brother in law squinted and he hurried to add to his statement. “There didn’t seem sense in disturbing you.”

As he’d thought, the man couldn’t seem to find anything wrong with that. Madara, on the other hand, was wearing a pinched face caught halfway between gratitude and annoyance. He could easily guess what thoughts were going through that beloved head, wished he had a better solution than crawling through windows in his own home. 

“Suppose I was gonna get going anyway,” Izuna murmured eventually, cutting through the awkwardness. Tobirama waved one hand. 

“Do not leave on my account if you’re enjoying your visit. I had planned to stay in here.”

“No I really was leaving anyway. Mads was just grabbing a book that I wanted to borrow.” He looked almost irritated that he didn’t actually have anything to be irritated about. 

Rather than fight him on that – he was hardly going to complain about getting what he wanted after all – Tobirama remained silent as Madara rifled through the shelves and kept his eyes on his work in an effort to ignore the tense atmosphere in the room. It was a relief when the book was finally located and Madara shooed his brother towards the front door so they could say goodbye to each other in peace. With the door left open he could have heard what they were murmuring to each other but he chose not to invade their privacy in such a manner, not after going to so much effort just to give them privacy before. 

He had bent his head back to the papers before him by the time Madara came back in to the room but dared to peek up in the hopes that he would not find irritation there, thrilled to see his luck holding out still. His husband was leaning against the door jamb with his arms folded and a particular tightness around his mouth that said he was holding back a smile. Tobirama liked to think that smile would have been at least half as soppy as the ones he had been fighting off all morning.  

“You’re home a little earlier than I expected you to be. Thought you’d be trapped at Hashirama's forever before you made it over to your cousin’s.” 

“Ah.” Tobirama gestured with one hand for his partner to come closer. “They did both have quite a bit to say.”

“Izu says it’s super obvious that we had sex last night!” Madara immediately clapped both hands over his mouth, clearly not having meant to blurt that out. He glared when Tobirama laughed but still allowed himself to be coaxed across the room. 

“My family told me the same thing – well, Mito did, it took Hashirama a while to figure out the context for my good mood.” As soon as the man was near enough Tobirama hooked his waist with one arm and tugged, pulling Madara in to his lap where he could bury his face against the neck he had so liberally covered in love bites. All under the massive volume of hair, of course, and with the way his husband usually wore it he was fairly sure they had so far gone entirely unnoticed. He wasn’t cruel enough to embarrass either of them like that. 

After squirming a little at first Madara eventually melted in to his touches with a low purr. “He said I looked really stupid.”

“Not the word I would choose to describe you. Well, not today anyway.”

“Hey!”

Tobirama laughed and distracted the man with a few more kisses to some choice locations. 

Despite having spent most of their visit sitting around the kitchen table gabbing like old men with nothing better to do apparently Madara never bothered to actually get up and make food for him and his brother, though he decided to rectify that the moment he heard Tobirama’s stomach growling. It took a bit of play fighting but eventually Tobirama relented and allowed him to get up so they could move back to the kitchen together. He did offer to help cook but Madara shooed him in to a chair with one stern finger and that was just cute enough to convince him to listen. 

While he cooked for the most part he nattered on in a way reminiscent of his best friend, though Tobirama was smart enough not to make any such comparisons out loud, and the large majority of what he talked about had to do with Izuna. He spoke on what his brother had been doing with the ANBU since being given control of the project or what he had been up to in general and all the while didn’t really seem to remember why he usually wouldn’t talk about his brother in front of his husband. Tobirama soaked up every word with a beatific smile. He might not be terribly interested in the subject matter but married couples were supposed to be able to speak to each other about anything at all; seeing Madara so free did wonders on his heart. 

As he listened Tobirama played with one of the empty mugs still sitting on the table and tuned out a little, falling in to his own thoughts. The issue of Izuna was one he could not solve himself, clearly, making peace required the cooperation of both parties. But should he really give up so soon after only a single gesture? Did a lifetime of training how to schmooze and ingratiate himself with potential allies mean nothing? If he were completely honest with himself there were many actions he could take from here and he’d known that all along, he just hadn’t wanted to admit it. Hadn’t wanted to be the one to back down and show himself as the weaker party. Really his own stubborn pride had been getting in the way almost as much as Izuna’s had and that meant he probably had almost as much of the blame on his shoulders for the ongoing state of this ridiculous feud. 

He didn’t realize just how badly he had slipped away in to his own head until Madara set a plate down in front of him with a playful scowl that said he knew he’d been ignored. Tobirama apologized by tugging him down far enough to kiss the pout from those lips. When he looked down at his lunch, however, it stirred an idea that he wanted immediately to reject off hand yet forced himself to stop and reconsider. A feud with such deep emotions required a deep gesture. His problem up until now had been that he was thinking too small. 

“I don’t know if I like the smile on your face right now,” Madara said cautiously as he sank down in to the opposite chair. 

“What do you mean?”

“You look like you’re up to something. That is an evil smile if I have ever seen one. And I lived with Izuna for most of my life, I’ve seen more than my fair share of evil smiles.”

Tobirama resisted the urge to snicker at the irony that Madara should still be so focused on his younger brother even without knowing what thoughts had led to the expression that so worried him. Instead he reached for his fork and filled his mouth with rice to excuse himself from offering any sort of reply. His husband scowled but that was fine. He could fix that again with more kisses after they had eaten. Until then he simply continued to eat and kept his plans to himself, somehow just a little more hopeful for a happy future than he had been even just this morning. 

[princessamericachavez]

Let’s talk about Fjord

This has been a long time coming, especially given how most of the fandom tends to overlook the depth of Fjord’s past and current trauma or downright vilify him for it... but I’m not here to talk salt, I’m here to talk about all the sweet little tidbits about Fjord we learned tonight in Talks.

So let’s review:

a. Fjord feels more comfortable in the City of Beasts than in the Empire/Menagerie Coast: 

Now, hey, let’s take a break and consider this, yeah? Because Fjord has spent all of his life fighting and denying the “monster” side of him, to the point of self-harm. He’s crafted himself to look and act as an exemplary human (when he doesn’t even know if the non-orc part of his blood is human at all). Only in the past few months with the Mighty Nein has he started to accept himself. Letting his tusks grow —under Jester’s gentle watch— has been a huge step for him and his self-image. 

And yet. When they were traveling across this other lands, we never really saw Fjord complain. He never brought up that he felt watched, that he felt judged, that he felt out of place. That’s just how good his mask is (and part of his “no one cares” mentality that we will touch in a moment). 

He might not even fit in here entirely either —he’s destined to be forever a half-blood no matter where he goes— but the fact that he feels more comfortable here than he ever did before talks about just how deep-rooted his trauma is. As Travis put it “it’s having an interesting effect on him” and hopefully it will be one of further self-acceptance. We already saw him comment to himself that the stubby tusks had helped him intimidate Umanon. The very same thing that ostracized him as a child, is a powerful asset here.

b. Fjord is desperate to connect with his bloodline. 

Now, we’d seen hints of this longing before. On a meta-level, there was Travis complaining that Fjord didn’t get to meet the lonely half-orc on their way North, but we’ve also had several IC hints. Consider how Fjord found an orcish tusk in Lorenzo’s bag of teeth and kept it. Think about the value he puts into family. Think about him saying, of course, Jester would want to meet her dad. Think about the weight and importance he puts in the family. Think about how set he is in reuniting families —be it Jester with her mom or Nott with her son or even Beau with her estranged parents. Think about him choosing to name himself Captain Tusktooth of all things and despite his lack of them.

The way Travis put it tonight, though, wasn’t just curiosity, it was desperation. It was the need to sit down and ask “are you a monster, for real? Am I really a monster, too?” It’s just the need to be acknowledged. It’s the need to understand what it is in his blood that has made him a target all of his life. It’s getting some damn answers for once. It’s being a part of something. 

And how heartbreaking is it that his first proper encounter with his own species had to be this three drunken assholes that tried to hurt his friends and disregarded him as a weakling? And, yet, how satisfying is it that he got himself and his friends out of that problem, not by force but by outwitting them? By taking this side of him that he’s carefully crafted through his painful youth and using it to get the upper hand?

c. Fjord’s “tough love” and understanding of the world. 

Listen, as much as the two previous things were sad, I think nothing broke my heart as hearing Travis talk about Fjord’s perspective of the world. It makes sense, though. Of course, it does. He grew a nobody in an orphanage where he suffered at hands of other children and was probably never aided or defended by a single caring soul. What does it do to a child, to grow knowing no one is going to come to your rescue? That no one cares? That no one will?

And then Vandran, the one person that has apparently shown Fjord the most kindness in his life, reinforcing this idea, telling him “yes, no one cares, no one is going to care about your problems, so you just deal with them and keep pushing forward”. Of course, Fjord grabbed that ideology —that already aligned with his perspective of the world— and held on to it, turned it into a shield with which he could face an uncaring world. As “tough love” as it is, Vandran gave him a tool to turn his pain and anger into a way to keep moving. Was it the most emotionally healthy advice? Probably not, but it kept Fjord alive.

We’ve seen the side effects of this attitude come and bite Fjord in the ass, though. From not sharing his Uk’otoa dreams at first because they are his problem to deal with, to taking in the responsibility to deal with Avantika and the whole pirate deal... it’s made his allies distrust him, thinking he withholds information out of shadiness rather than a sense of sole responsibility for his issues. Like, think of being sure that the M9 would not come and rescue him from the slavers. After being rescued, he tells Beau and Caleb that he did not expect them to come. Why would he. No one ever has. No one has ever cared. He tells them he expects better of himself because that’s the only person he’s ever really been able to rely on. 

Until now. Until the Mighty Nein. After being rescued, he tells them that he hasn’t had many kindnesses directed at him in his life, and as much as it sounds like a “cool guy” line, really, really, really think how real that is, how much pain there was in Fjord’s shaky breathless laugh as he said it. I don’t care what anyone says or thinks, Travis is fucking BRILLIANT roleplayer that has been planting the seeds and hints of Fjord’s trauma and pain, playing the subtle long game, really thinking deeply about how his past affects him and it’s all slowly boiling to the surface and it’s perfect.

Going back to how the M9 have changed Fjord’s perspective, though, think about how much they care. They do care, and they show it, and they help, and show up, and go out of their way to help and protect Fjord in a way no one ever has before. 

Jester bribing someone to get Fjord a recommendation later just because he said he wanted to get into a super fancy magic academy. Beau, Caleb, Nott and Molly risking (and giving) their lives to rescue him and the others from the slavers. They spent months out in the open see and surrounded by pirates and death threats just to help him get answers about his powers and his mentor. Jester yelling “don’t worry Fjord, you’re going to be okay!” or “I’ll protect you, Fjord!” and assuring him “I’ll heal you if you start to hurt”, keeping his secrets about his past, constantly asking about how he feels and what he wants and what he needs. My dudes (forgive me as I get momentarily shippy) but when Travis says Fjord is in awe of Jester’s light and happiness, how he’s never met anyone like her, how her light is contagious... the more we learn about the shadows in Fjord’s past, the more apparent it becomes how significant her light is to him (platonically or otherwise)

And speaking of light, fourth and final matter

d. Fjord is looking for an out. 

And not just any out. Fjord is looking for a higher power to help him stop Uk’otoa or, at the very least, break his connection to the serpent. 

And here is where I throw a huge HAH to anyone who claimed Fjord to be evil, shady, power-hungry or willing to betray everyone or some shit. 

My guys, Fjord is willing to give up the very power that —for the first time in his life— has allowed him to defend himself and those he loves, just to do the right thing. Fjord is actively thinking of ways to fix his situation. Fjord is step by step turning his back on the dark promise of rewards and reaching for the light like a drowning man.

How will that look, you ask? Well, Travis did bring up a significant word tonight: Paladin. 

From a purely ttrpg point of view, all Fjord needs to multiclass to Paladin is a couple extra strength points that he could easily get the next time he can up his stats. 

From a narrative point of view, though, how wonderful would it be? This boy, this man, who grew up being shunned, hated, attacked, disregarded as a monstrosity... This kid who everyone called an evil shady monster, who people distrust on sight, who didn’t think himself important enough to be helped by anyone... 

I would KILL for paladin Fjord. Like, shutting up every single person (in and out of game) that called him evil or a monster by becoming a god's champion, a paragon of good, literal knight in shining armor, tusks and all. TUSKS AND ALL. 

Jester seeing Fjord in full armor, shining like the sun with a light of his own, blessed by a deity of his own, tall and proud... and her just being filled with pride, telling him “see, Fjord? I told you, you’re just like a knight in shining armor!”

I’m curious as to which god Fjord would choose to follow, though. 

The Wildmother might seem like a far fit given how different Caduceus’s approach to, well, everything is to Fjord, but reading up on her she’s “the goddess of wilderness and the sea. She watches over nature, good harvest, grants protection from washing away in storms, guides the passage of ships, and protects smaller folk” which seems like SUPER fitting given Fjord’s backstory. 

The Moonweaver would be an interesting nod to Molly’s faith, but also a good fit to Fjord’s tendencies towards hiding his true self behind a perfect mask since she “is a chaotic good deity of moonlight and the autumn season, as well as the patron of illusions and misdirection [...]  she is largely considered to be the deity of love and protector of the trysts of lovers. Those who work in secrecy and trickery often ask for her blessing.” (also Fjord needs all the luck in love he can get)

The Changebringer is an interesting option too, I think, since she “is the goddess of freedom, trade, travel, and adventure. She encourages her followers to venture into the unknown” and we all know how curious and impulsive Fjord can be, it’d be fun for him to have a deity that encourages his thirst for adventure now that he’s enjoying his new life and getting to know and do more than he ever dreamed.

The Stormlord is a weird mix since he’s the god of war and fighting but also worshipped by sailors of the Menagerie Coast, which Fjord could feel closer too. 

(also either the Stormlord or the Wildmother might have some kind of direct interest in Uk’otoa not rising again, so they seem likely to help)

I —for one— would love to see Fjord as a paladin of the Traveler, just because the idea is hilarious and I have no idea how it would work.

Either way, though, Fjord has a super interesting road ahead. His past and present are coming to the surface and this arc his subtly giving us a lot of what will shape his future.

Tl;dr: Fjord is a good boy who has suffered a lot and I will fight the next person that calls him evil. 

[shadowyin-yang]

Saw that you're taking prompts and if you want, what about 22) "Did you just hiss at me?" with Fenris and Anders? ;) (loved the one you wrote for tearsofwinter!)

Send Me Prompts!

First off, THANK YOU!!! Aaah @tearsofwinter was the first to prompt me so I feel like I didn’t do a good enough job on the first drabble. Like I was super rusty??? But I’m glad someone liked it enough to send me a prompt due to it!!! So thank you again!

Usual: “idk if this is what you’re looking for” (b/c I imagined it being funny before it…didn’t turn out funny) + “this is too long for a drabble”

No seriously, I kind of feel I should start posting these to AO3 at this rate. 

Verse: Modern-AU with magic

Misc notes: Pre-fenders to potential fenders; mentions of tranquility (regarding Karl); Anders+insecurity issues/self-loathing/probs other things; Fenris gets beaten up by Pounce a few times (bites and scratches); everyone is an asshole (I’m watching someone play DA2 and I was kinda reminded that…everyone shits on Anders. A lot)

Link to ao3 chapter: here.

“I never hated you.”

All these years and the stupid mage decided to simply announce that tidbit of information (okay it wasn’t that simple but that would be another story)? Fenris found he was not only in disbelief but annoyed. All the wasted time spent hating on someone who did not even hate you in return! “Right, you never hated me.” He made sure to sound extra dry in his response. 

“Believe whatever you wish. I already know the same can’t be said for you towards me.” 

That part Fenris knew he could not argue with. The seething burning sensation he felt every time the mage spoke was proof enough. Except…

Maker, Anders did not seem so bad when you know he wasn’t hating you. Still annoying though. If Anders spoke the truth then everything that came out of his mouth sounded less like a personal attack. 

What followed soon after for Fenris was guilt. 

Why verbally attack someone who does not hate you? It suddenly seemed wrong to talk down to Anders when seeing the mage look away in hurt (along with anger), and retort with his own string of ugly words. Now the elf only felt like the bad guy. Say something mean and someone’s feelings gets hurt. Go figure. But it was how it always was. That’s just what they did. Why change it now? 

Fenris sought comfort from the quips Anders received from the others. A little from Aveline, mostly regarding the amount of work Anders and other mages put on her and other cops with all the meet-ups and protests; and Isabela making light of said-protests. It didn’t make Fenris feel alone when he decided to give Anders a hard time. The guilt didn’t go away though. If anything it got worse and his friends, well, now they just seemed a little…too mean. Sure, Fenris knew no one here was an angel but you’re not supposed think everyone’s suddenly worse either. The look of shame and hurt on the mage’s face became hard not to notice every time someone took a jab at his plight. It was all in good fun wasn’t it? Anders took it too seriously anyway, and it only brought everyone’s mood down so they’re just changing topics…right? So Fenris didn’t stop. He’ll keep hating the mage like always (maybe with a little less intensity). It was better this way, to keep everything the same as it was. 

Anders had confessed his feelings to Hawke. The news tightened something within Fenris, though the elf wasn’t sure what it was. A different tightening feeling occurred right after the first when it became evident Hawke did not return said-feelings. Everyone seemed to have understood that Anders needed some space and didn’t comment of his absence from game night. 

That only seemed to apply for the first few times. 

Now Anders needed to “get over it.” The mage missed so many nights since the whole thing with Hawke. It was only one excuse or another: “sorry, I have a rally to go to,” “sorry, I volunteered at the shelter,” “sorry, I volunteered at the downtown clinic,” “sorry I don’t have a lot of money right now.” 

“I’ll go talk to him.” Hawke was either foolish or the only brave one here. But who could judge when no one opposed the decision? 

Anders showed up to the next game night, and things seemingly went back to normal. Just as it should be, and just how Fenris liked it. 

“My cousin’s in town for about a month,” Hawke announced one day in game night, after Anders left. “Probably won’t be seeing Anders for a bit.” 

“What? And they don’t come to see little ol’ me?” Isabela feigned offense, “But I supposed they have always been fond of Anders. Oh well. I suppose that’s for the best though.”

“Mm? Why’s that, Izzy?” Merrill asked in curiosity. 

“The two have always gotten along. Anders always seemed very happy around them. He seems…very down lately. He could use some cheering up.”  

Fenris concluded there might’ve been some truth to that. He only met this Amell family member once, only for the sake of introductions. They were a mage though. It didn’t take long for them to show an obvious distaste for Fenris the moment he expressed his own strong opinions on mage matters. It was no wonder they got along with Anders. Whatever. It wasn’t his business. If anything, Fenris might feel his own form of distaste. This visit ruined the routine Fenris grew accustomed too. Game nights without Anders felt…different. 

During the month’s stay, Fenris often saw Anders out at night with cousin-Amell in the streets of Hightown from his apartment window. Anders never goes to Hightown without good reason, and especially not doing so at night, while smiling and laughing as he walked. Hawke was never with them and no one seemed to see Anders at all during most of this month (alone at least). It was always a curious sight whenever Fenris caught Anders out and about during the busy night with someone that wasn’t part of their main group, looking as happy as he was. Has Anders never smile or laugh? Well of course he had! But it was…different here somehow. More joyous. More genuine…

The guilt still hasn’t left.The guilt also got worse (again) when Anders resumed his regular attendance to game night again, indicating Hawke’s cousin had left. Fenris never saw Anders smile and laugh like that since the last time he watched the pair pass his apartment window. Now every chuckle and grin Anders displayed only seemed to disconnect Fenris from the reality he was viewing. It seemed wrong. Was Anders not happy? Was he not having fun? After all, why bother coming at all if you’re so damn miserable?

Fenris could not bring himself to say anything when Anders showed up one night with a small cut on his forehead. Fenris knew he usually did say something, mostly along the lines of the mage being his usual foolish self. It wasn’t the first time, nor was it the last, that Anders would show up with minor injuries from his protests and rallies for mage rights, and sometimes even elf rights. Anders never seemed to have enough mana for himself. It seemed silly to ask, not that Fenris ever did, but if one was not healing yourself and you still run out of mana…then how much healing was required? 

“You seem broodier than usual.” 

Fenris sighed. Figured Varric would be the first to notice. At least the dwarf had some decency to bring it up after everyone left for the night. “Am I?” 

“Sure. A bit quieter so it throws off your whole brooding thing a bit. Too depressing, not even charm. Did karma come around to bite you in the ass?” 

Maybe. Perhaps. Fenris wasn’t sure. “It is just the mage. Why must he show up as rugged and disheveled as he is every time? If he is so tired he should just not come at all.” 

“Well, you gotta remember he did not show up at all. You don’t just…not show up when Hawke prefers it.” 

Ah. Right. Hawke dragged Anders back. 

“Right…perhaps I am the tired one. I have had some difficulty sleeping recently.” Guilt apparently made it difficult to rest up well…

“Blondie may help you with that. Well, depends how professional you want of a diagnosis. I can give you sleeping pills if needed. Blondie just…advised I do not offer it as a first resort. But we all know how you are with him, so I just won’t mention this to him and let you get by without him breathing down your back over it. But just say the word and I can get you some!”

“Thank you, Varric. I will think about it.” 

“Take it easy on him if you see him though. Blondie seems to be having it rough lately. Well, rougher, anyway.” 

Fenris vaguely recalled where Anders lived. He never had a reason to really go see him (and that goes for all the places Anders frequented). Maker, it was disgusting. The streets were littered, the buildings looked old and worn, the roads were unfixed, and Fenris could’ve sworn there was a dead animal somewhere with every corner he turned. He had known this man for years and he could never fathom how Anders could stand living in this part of Kirkwall. Last he checked, Anders was a bloody doctor. What kind of doctor earned less money than…literally everyone else in the group? That guilt feeling started coming back again…

Fenris eventually spotted the mage standing next to a bus stop. No time like the present. He swiftly approached and touched Anders’s shoulder for his attention. Fenris swore he barely touched the man, but just from mere brush against the hoodie he heard a terribly threatening hiss, and withdrew his hand immediately. Anders turned slightly and took out an earbud. 

“Did you just hiss at me?” Fenris questioned before Anders could say anything. 

Anders only looked at him in confusion. “Did I what?” Anders looked down before even waiting for Fenris to repeat the question. “Oh Pounce, what’s the matter?” 

As Anders lifted the bottom portion of his hoodie up, Fenris spotted an orange ball of fluff. That hoodie was already ugly when he first saw it, but Fenris wasn’t sure if the little built-in pouch holding a cat made it better or worse…

“Are you scared? It’s alright, I won’t let Fenris hurt you~” Fenris had never heard Anders us such a childish tone to talk. Nor had he ever seen Anders nuzzle and kiss a cat with such love and affection. “There, there. That’s it, Pounce. It’s alright. No need to feel scared.” Maker, this man adored his cat… 

Upon calming the cat down (though Anders still cuddled him), Anders finally paid his attention to Fenris again. “Is there a reason you’re waiting on me?”

“Erm…yes. Varric recommended I go to you for suggestions. I have had some trouble sleeping as of late.”

“Oh, now you seek out a mage’s help? Tch…”

“As I’ve stated before: magic has its uses. Now will you make use of it?”

“Right, right…” Anders muttered without looking at Fenris. He sighed as he gestured down the street they were on. “Come on, my place isn’t that far from here.”

As they walked, Fenris saw the bus pass them. Anders didn’t say anything. 

Anders placed a small jar on the counter that held oddly colored leaves inside. “Take this before you sleep. Stay off your phone though. After a couple of days, tell me how it is and if you have any allergic reactions to them. You don’t need to chew it. Just drink down a leaf with water. It doesn’t have a taste so it shouldn’t be difficult.” 

Fenris looked curiously at the item. “That’s it?” and no magic?

“Yeah. It’s natural. Nothing like those over the counter stuff. Which I guess are fine for the short term, but not if you need to rely on them. Hopefully it’s just a passing thing, but might as well get used to this stuff if it works for you. Just in case.” 

“I see…” Fenris picked up the jar. The leaves looked thin and loose enough to just drink down. “You are not going to ask questions on my change of sleep problems?” 

“I would, but I figured you don’t like telling me anything. So I decided to not waste both of our time and just give you what you wanted.” 

“Right…and what are you charging?”

“Just take it. I can always get more.”

The guilt came back. “I do not wish to owe a mage anything.” Okay, that may have came out wrong. 

“Tch, fine. Just throw in a few sovereigns to the clinic or animal shelter. Or both.”

The guilt got worse. Fenris resisted pointing out the ripping wallpaper, the table with a wobbly leg, the dripping sink, and the too-easily-to-break door. He was afraid to sit down or lean on anything in fear of breaking it. 

“I…shall then…” It was the only response he could think of. 

“Alright. Well if that’s all there is. You can go. Pounce and I are taking a stroll to the grocery store.” 

And what? Buy bread and feed it to the geese? Okay Anders might actually do that…

Anders looked around for the cat. Fenris saw the orange tabby on the floor on his side of the counter licking his paws. He reached down to retrieve him for Anders, just out as an act of being nice. The cat hissed and without warning, the claws came down on the hand that reached for him. Fenris yelped as he pulled his hand back. 

“Pounce! No!” Anders quickly picked up the tabby. “Bad, Pounce! You do not attack people like that!” he used a scolding tone, though it was probably as ineffective as scolding a child. Anders sighed as he readjusted his grip on Pounce while approaching Fenris. “I’m sorry about Pounce. He…doesn’t like most people. Do you need something for that?” 

Fenris could see the claw marks on his fingers. “No. It is nothing.” he tucked his hand into his pocket and resisted the urge to hiss himself as it the pressure stung. “So you are to say that beast is picky with his company?” 

“Well I guess so…I’m not sure what it is. Pounce seems to hate everyone. Except the Amell family. Well, Carver’s the exception. Oh but he adores Hawke.” Anders chuckled as he nuzzled Pounce. It was the first time Fenris recalled seeing such a warm smile since Hawke’s cousin was over. Was a cat always this effective for Anders? 

“Oh yeah, Anders loves his cat,” Hawke said when Fenris approached them the next day. “The cat loves him too from what I can tell of cats. Which isn’t much I guess.”

“I was informed this…Ser Pounce…is rather fond of you.”

“Oh yeah,” Hawke laughed in-between drinks, “It’s really funny. Maybe I’m just good with animals. Pounce likes Bethany too though, and myself of course. And um…my cousin, and their lover. Pounce absolutely hates Carver though…and others I assume. Anders says we’re the only ones he recalled Pounce liked. Us and Karl.” 

“Karl?”

“Oh, you remember. Anders’s old lover. The one who got turned Tranquil despite passing his Harrowing. That big case a few years ago.” The case that the mages lost, and justice was never served. Fenris never really thought much about it, but being reminded of that case only made him feel…bad. 

“…And you are saying you never had to change the cat’s opinion of you?” Fenris asked instead of delving further into the negative feelings. 

“I mean I guess? Well, Pounce didn’t like me right away. Probably because I’m a stranger. But he warmed up to me. Sort of around the same time Anders did.”

Fenris blinked curiously. “Anders was swift to like you though.”

“Yeah, and so was Pounce!” 

There was no way. It can’t be.

“I wish to see your cat.” Fenris announced to Anders as he stood before the man’s apartment door. 

“…Why?” Anders put himself before the door frame, guarding the entrance. 

“I’m interested in cats.“

There was a flicker of interest in Anders’s eyes. “I…suppose you can come see him. I guess it’s not a bad sign if you want to see him even after he attacked you.” 

Anders let Fenris in and the elf searched for the orange tabby. Pounce was laying in the sunlight coming in through the window. Fenris only got a chance to kneel down beside him before Pounce woke and immediately got his claws into Fenris’s jeans. He immediately felt the sting in his knees…

Fenris came by again later that same week. This time he brought a cat treat for Pounce. He offered the food on the floor and tried to push the little treat closer. Pounce sniffed it for a moment but promptly ignored it. 

“Strange. He usually eats anything you give him,” Anders noted out loud, watching from behind the elf. Fenris tried pushing the treat in front of Pounce’s path again but before he could pull his hand away, Pounce, well, pounced. Well…at least he can make up a story to why his knuckles bled…

Fenris came by again by the start of the next week. This time, he handed Anders a box of pizza. “I had some from work. Brought it in case you were interested.” Fenris didn’t say more as he went to scan for the cat. Pounce was on the couch this time and watched the strange exchange between Anders and Fenris. 

“Um…thanks…?” despite the confusion, Anders didn’t want to complain about the free food and happily hummed as he started getting out a plate for himself. Fenris went over and knelt before Pounce who eyed the elf with intent. Carefully, Fenris slipped the treat before the cat. Pounce sniffed it before taking the treat into his mouth. After Pounce finished, Fenris offered his (bandaged up) hand to the cat. Pounce didn’t look aggressive. Taking that as a good sign, Fenris tried to pet the head like how Anders would do it. Before he even touched the fur, Pounce bit his finger. 

Fenris stopped by once again. This time, he handed Anders a new box of bandaids and a new bottle of disinfection. Both acting as a replacement for taking up all the supplies from Anders. Fenris found he was able to pet Pounce’s head today, but only for a moment. Pounce bit him again when he felt he was being pet for too long. 

Another day Fenris came by with nothing. But he did mention the silly cat shirt Anders wore was charmingly funny…in its own way. He caught a small smile from the mage, and Fenris found he was able to pet the cat’s head a bit longer than five seconds before he started hearing a growling sort of noise and he retreated his hand before he got attacked again. 

And that’s how it went. Fenris visited at the rate that it would be considered ‘often’ to a lot people. He would bring over food for himself and Anders sometimes. Anders seemed to always be hungry. One time he brought a movie that he felt Anders might enjoy (he did. It involved cats). Otherwise, he offered some words. Nothing too out there. Just a nice compliment here and there. “Why is your hair not up today? No, it is fine. But perhaps you should wear your hair down more often-if that is something you like,” “You make good cookies. The children would like them,” “No, keep the movie if you like it so much.” 

Slowly, Pounce seemed to accept his presence. Not completely, as even at Pounce’s most patient days, Fenris had walked out with a new scratch on his skin. Anders always apologized for them, even when there was nothing Fenris felt that needed to be apologized for. 

Finally, by the end of the month, Fenris was able to get his hand to start from the top of Pounce’s head and down his back without being attacked. 

“Hmm, wow, I think Pounce is warming up to you. Your effort is pulling through! I’m so happy that Pounce gets a new friend!” Anders sounded proud, as if Pounce was a child…

Fenris stood and went over to the kitchen counter were Anders was pouring tea for the two of them. “Did Hawke have as much trouble?” 

“Not really,” Anders flushed slightly, “Hawke is…Hawke. They’re a bit irresistible…” 

“…why Hawke?” Fenris dared to ask and Anders froze in mid-pouring. He stopped and put down the hot water as he eyed Fenris suspiciously. 

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. The cause of your temporary absence.”

Anders shrugged and went on to pour into the next cup. “What’s there to say? Hawke’s nice.” 

“Nice…”

“Nice,” Anders stressed. 

“…That’s it?” 

“What else do I need?” Anders put down the water and took out the teabags. 

Compassion, listening skills, supportive, probably at least likes cats, and appreciate each other’s interests, just to list a few. 

“I assumed more than just…nice.” Fenris replied with instead. 

Anders shrugged as he pushed a cup towards Fenris. “I can’t expect my lover to be perfect. No need to be picky. I don’t have much to offer anyway…and I know I’m annoying and such.”

Fenris swallowed, feeling more and more uncomfortable whenever Anders talked down on himself like that. “That is a dangerous mindset, Mage. Anyone can be nice. Many have for the sake of saving face.” 

“Yeah but you can usually tell when they want something in return or not. You eventually start to pick up that stuff. Hawke…Hawke’s kind. They…really listen to me…” 

Fenris felt his brow twitch. “Mage…has no one mentioned to you that you need to raise your standards?” 

“Why would they tell me that?”

Fenris had to resist smacking himself in frustration. “That aside, Mage. If you are so good at telling when someone’s trying to trick you, then what is my purpose for feeding you?”

“You want to see Pounce, what else?” Anders gestured to the cat. 

Fenris stared. “Why do you not assume I wish to see you?”

“Why would you want to see someone you hate?” 

“…Maybe you are not so hatable.” Maker it shouldn’t have come out so easily. But it did become rather difficult to hate someone who eagerly wanted his cat, never mind himself, to make a new friend. 

“Heh, right, sure. I’ll take that as a compliment.” 

“…you do not believe me.” Fenris stated matter of factly. 

Anders raised a brow. “You’re trying to convince me you do not hate me?”

“Should I try harder?”

“See!” Anders pointed with accusation, “You’re never serious with me! It’s always hatred or sarcasm!”

Fenris glanced over at Pounce. The cat looked like he was staring into his soul…

“I…did not mean offense. I apologize.”

“You…apologize…?” Anders looked away in discomfort. “I…that’s…nice of you…I guess…um…thanks…?” 

Fenris just hoped that Anders (possibly) believed him. For now. Mostly because Fenris could not remember why he hated this man anymore. 

Fenris wasn’t sure what to do. He had spent over a month seeing Anders and Pounce, most of that time spent trying to befriend the cat. It was meant to be an experiment, a way to put out the growing curiosity. He didn’t think Pounce would actually respond the way he did. Before he knew it, he got carried away with it. 

But now Anders seemed almost content being in the elf’s presence, excited even, on some days. He expressed a similar shy smile that he used to have when around Hawke. Fenris froze in his thoughts. Oh no…

Fenris ran his hands through his hair. Okay, so maybe there is a possibility he accidentally made Anders have more-than-friendship-based-feelings for him now but…a part of him felt he should still be liked beyond just being nice! Did he even do anything especially nice? Sure he knew he fed Anders on some days. There was also the minor compliments of course. There was the time he brought over a used, but large, jacket for Anders upon noticing Anders’s current one was getting too worn down. Fenris could’ve sworn Anders used the same jacket during winter and he was fairly confident the one he owned was warmer. It got difficult to get Anders to (eventually) accept it.

Okay so that was one nice thing he went out of his way to do. ONE! Or maybe two if one counted the time he shared his wine with Anders one night at the Hanged Man. 

This was trouble, and bad, and…probably something to be expected after all the acts he had done to appease Pounce. Or…appease Pounce for…Anders? Fenris wasn’t sure anymore. 

If there was anything he was sure about now it was that Anders didn’t eat enough. The only time he’s ever caught Anders with food was when he was the one giving Anders the food! He also knew Anders didn’t splurge on many luxuries except for the cat. Pounce was spoiled rotten. It wasn’t hard to notice the soft cat bed looked a bit too new in comparison to Anders’s mattress that looked like it was sagging from the one time Fenris went into the mage’s bedroom. Fenris also knew Anders cared (too much in Fenris’s opinion). There was always someone to help, always something to fight for, and always some poor animal to save from the rain. 

Just thinking about it felt like it was too much…But as Fenris felt his heart ache at the thought of Anders constantly moving through life like this, he knew he too cared a bit too much. Maybe he was more sure than he originally thought. 

Game night came once again, and Fenris waited outside the Hanged Man for Anders to arrive. He almost expected Anders to give a look of suspicion but…not as of late. If Pounce approved a person, it somehow spelled ‘good’ in Anders’s mind. When Anders arrived, he looked surprised, and then looked away with a tint of red on his face. Fenris felt the insides of his chest getting particularly warm as well. Maybe not enough things were said between them, but avoiding it now wouldn’t do. 

“Um…is there a reason you’re out here…?” Anders looked ready to enter, but Fenris didn’t budge from the entrance. 

“I was waiting for you.”

“��oh. Um…I’m here? What’s going on? Am I in trouble for being a big bad mage?” 

Fenris sighed and closed the distance between them. Anders stiffened as the other got closer. Fenris felt his heart pound a bit too loud for his liking, but he had a feeling Anders might be feeling it just as a bad. Or worse. With a shake of his head, Fenris tried to meet with Anders’s gaze. Anders only persisted to not look at him. Not wanting to push his discomfort, Fenris stopped and let a moment’s pause pass before speaking. “…Do you wish to have coffee with me sometime?” 

Anders’s head snapped up. “…What?” 

“Do you wish to have coffee with me sometime?” he repeated patiently. 

He could’ve sworn Anders’s face changed color as he tried to get out a response. “Wh-What?! Wait, a-are you inferring something? Wait, is this a joke? Because if it is, it’s not a very funny one you know!” 

“It is not a joke.”

Anders only folded his arms in disbelief. 

Fenris continued. “I…know I am not the most ideal-”

“What?!” Anders exclaimed, cutting in, “Fenris, you’re like one of the most desirable bachelors in all of Kirkwall!” 

Fenris blinked. This was news to him. Never less… “It does not change my question for you.” 

“…But you can do better than me!”  

“I fail to see how that relates to what you want in regards to my question.” 

Anders fell silent, looking rather torn. 

Fenris sighed again as his heart started to ache once more. “As I said…I know I may not be the most…ideal person. I have treated you badly, and I do not know if I ever truly apologized for it. I would not hold it against you for saying no. I am…prepared for it. You deserve someone who will treat you well.” 

“Not really…” Anders let out an empty laugh as his hand wiped at his eyes. “Heh…wh…what am I supposed to say to that, Fenris? I…I don’t know, I just…”

“Say whatever you fe-”

“It’s not that simple!” Anders suddenly exclaimed. “Of course I want to! I just…don’t want to disappoint you…Heh, I mean, I hear that I’m rather good at that! Disappointment. Being a mage does that you know. I often disappoint people without even having to open my mouth usually.”

“Well whoever suggested such a thing is wrong,” Fenris stated harshly. Anders dropped the forceful smile he just put on. “This is not about everyone else and they will think. It’s about you and your happiness, and whether or not you feel I am capable of helping in providing some of it. This is not about Kirkwall, or Hawke, or mages, or any of whatever you think has to do with who ‘deserves’ what! Just once, can you do that? For yourself?” 

Fenris wasn’t sure what kind of look Anders was giving him. He had never seen it before. The mage looked confused, and something else. Maybe he was in thought as he tried to decipher what was said. Fenris couldn’t blame him. He wasn’t sure if many people expressed such a thing to Anders before this moment. 

Anders fiddled with his hands, and looked away again. “I can…try.” Anders finally replied quietly. 

“That is all I ask from you. Regardless of how you wish to answer me. Just know that there is more to me than just simple acts of kindness. Believe me when I say: I may disappoint you before you could ever disappoint me.”  

“Never,” Anders shook his head. Fenris could see how much the mage genuinely believed that. “I think…one cup of coffee wouldn’t hurt.” And Fenris saw a small smile on the other’s face. 

It was almost a relief to Fenris. He never really saw himself as nice, but it was a rather good trait. And he could always show he had other qualities to like, at least, he had hoped he did. Like Anders, Fenris decided he had to at least try to bring those good qualities out. If not for his own sake, then for Anders’s. 

It was the least Fenris felt he could do for him. 

[frank-a-lank]

Tattoos (Jesse McCree/OC)

Fandom: Overwatch

Rating: T

Pairing: Jesse McCree x OC (Anela Kahale)

Summary: Anela is told a tidbit of information and she wonders what do do with it.

He likes tattoos.

 Bryn McFinnigan had whispered those traitorous words to her one day in the women’s locker room. Bryn had known Jesse longer than she had, so she knew the information was most likely valid.

 The medic was loathe to admit she developed a crush on the resident cowboy. Somehow, someway, the sweet talked his way through her defenses and befriended her. With her occupation, it was dangerous to get too close to the soldiers she looked out for. And then she had to be stupid enough to notice how sharp his jawline was one day. Or how his hair barely fell into his eyes. She knew it was bad when she started to think his cinnamon brown eyes were pretty.

 Or how he always managed to cheer her up or make her laugh.

 How he was always there for her and was now one of her most dependable friends.

That’s what was shitty about this. He was her friend. And then she had to get this damn crush. And she never could figure out if he was just being his charming self when he threw flirty comments toward her or if he meant it.

 And that’s what made everything so damn frustrating.

 And then Bryn just had to mention the tattoo thing. Anela stared at herself in the mirror in the locker room. She had yet to put on her shirt. She ignored the little bit of softness she had right above her hips and she turned around, looking over her shoulder. She had recently got her tattoo touched up, so it stood out clear and defined as ever. Anela had loved seeing the manta rays during her childhood. Her grandma would always go down to the water with her and Anela remembered watching in awe as they swam by.

 “All life is sacred, Anela. From the tiniest fish to the brightest of humans. Remember that.”

 The manta ray on her back spread across both of her shoulders, and the head was right below the nape of her neck, easily hidden when she wore a shirt. The tail curled along her spine, ending at the small of her back. The swirls and circles reminded her of the ocean back home. As beautiful as it could be in Gibraltar, the ocean wasn’t the same here.

 Anela bit her lip, wondering if she should be bold for once concerning Jesse McCree.

 Huffing, she pulled her shirt on and tried to ignore those damn words.

 He likes tattoos.

  Blackwatch had a rare day off not even two days later.

 The op the group just ran was successful and Anela didn’t even have to pull out her med kit once and she was able to offer support from a distance. Her nanotech was finally proving to have other uses other than healing. She would have to tell Ana that their experiment worked. She already was jotting down notes to make a bigger version of the anti-healing bomb. Anela had started to sketch out walls of fire, thinking about Pele the whole time.

 The op was in Italy, so they all were able to go to the beach in one of the seaside towns.

 Reyes even went, which was a surprise.

 Every one split into different directions when they got to the beach. Anela immediately went to the water, feeling drawn to it. She stood at the edge of the water, feet already covered by the waves. She closed her eyes and tilted her head up, letting the soft breeze blow her hair back. Her t-shirt clung to her skin and the wrap she wore over her swimsuit flowed around her legs.

 “Well ain’t that a pretty sight?”

 Anela rolled her eyes, looking over her shoulder at Jesse. “I know, she’s beautiful.” She gestured to the water.

 Jesse smiled crookedly and tilted his hat up. He was wearing a t-shirt and swim trunks, a rare sight. It was strange not seeing the usual bandana, jeans and boots.

 But the damn hat stayed.

 “Wasn’t talkin’ ‘bout the water, Angel.”

 She shook her head in amusement, heart skipping a beat at the nickname. He stood next to her and she watched him playfully bury his toes in the sand.

 He likes tattoos.

 Those damn words popped up into her head and Anela swore to get back at Bryn McFinnigan for torturing her like this. After debating about it in her head for many moments, she finally thought ‘screw it’.

 She pulled her shirt over her head, showing her bikini top. She rolled it into a ball and threw it toward her beach towel and bag before looking back at Jesse. “Well, Santa Fe, I’m gonna go and enjoy the water. You’re welcome to join.”

 Anela convinced herself that she didn’t hear his breath hitch in his throat, and she tried not to see that his eyes had widened and was openly staring at her back. She untied her wrap and threw it over with her shirt, acutely aware of how Jesse was seeing more of her skin than usual.

 She walked further into the water, pulling her hair up and getting ready to pull it into a bun. His silence was unusual, so she looked at him over her shoulder.

 His wide eyed, dumbstruck look was flattering, and the light dusting of pink on his cheekbones was enough to make her own cheeks warm up.

 “You okay, Santa Fe?”

 He likes tattoos.

 “Didn’t know ya had a tattoo,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his head.

 Anela tried to feign indifference, shrugging. “I’ve had it since I was 16. I love manta rays.”

 She walked further out into the water, having it lap around her knees now. She gave him another teasing look. “Are you coming in or what?”

 Jesse McCree always quickly recovered, she had to give him that.

 “Now hold yer horses, a man should enjoy the sights as they come,” he drawled, giving her that crooked grin again. He tossed his hat over by her bag, then he pulled his own shirt over his head and Anela couldn’t tear her eyes away from the sight.  God, she was just as bad as him. She knew every one of his scars now, and she even helped some of them heal. His skin was tawny and a light dusting of hair covered his chest. He had his own tattoo, the Deadlock symbol over his heart. Anela always itched to ask the story behind it, but she knew Jesse wasn’t too keen to talk about that part of his past.

 He stretched before bending over and picking up his sandals and tossing them over toward her bag.

 It took an actual damn effort to turn away from him.

 Splashing was her only warning before brawny, strong arms wrapped around her waist and she was picked up.

 “Jesse McCree don’t you dare!” she yelped.

 Too late.

 He tossed her the rest of the way in.

 Anela stayed under the water, swimming out into the deeper part. She could see his silhouette above and barely hear his laughter. She couldn’t hold back her smirk if she tried.

 “Angel?” Even though his voice was muffled, the low timber still managed to reach her.

 Anela swam back as he started to hurry forward and she quickly swam behind him. The water was up to his shoulders now.

 “Anela, this isn’t funny.”

 Yes it was.

 Anela swam down to the bottom, planted her feet against the sand, and kicked off. She burst from the surface, wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and dunked him.

 She couldn’t stop laughing when he resurfaced, spluttering. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, Angel! I thought you were hurt,” he huffed, pushing his hair back from his eyes.

 Anela started to swim in circles around him. “The ocean is my domain, Santa Fe.”

 Jesse rolled his eyes. “Yeah yeah, ya got me.” He splashed her. “Fergot ya were half fish.”

 “Does that make me a mermaid?” Anela cheekily asked, splashing him back.

 Jesse gave her that damn crooked grin again that made him look adorable. “Prettiest one I’ve seen.”

 “Flatterer.”

 “I like to call myself the speaker of truths.”

 Anela shook her head with an amused smile before taking a deep breath and diving beneath the water again, trying to avoid the fluttering feeling in her stomach. God, she just had to start liking him, didn’t she?

 Jesse had dove after her and was blinking rapidly. Bubbles floated out of Anela’s lips as she laughed at him. Poor guy wasn’t used to salt water. He quickly swam up again and she took pity and followed him. “Dammit that stings,” he yelped, wiping at his eyes. “How d’ya do that?!”

 Anela pushed her hair back, grinning. “I’m used to it.”

 He rolled his eyes again. “That just confirmed my half fish theory.”

 They swam back to where they both could touch and they sat in the water, letting it lap around their waists. Anela leaned back on her hands, enjoying the feel of the water surrounding her.

 “Why a manta ray?”

 Anela grinned, looking over her shoulder. She could barely see the black fin of the manta ray on her skin. “When I was 12, I was getting ready to go off to med school. I had already done all my pre-recs at college and Stanford was more than happy to get a genius in their med school. I was terrified.” Anela rubbed at her shoulder, grin turning wistful. “My grandmother and I used to love going and watching the manta rays swim near the shore. And she told me the words that kept me going when I doubted myself.”

 Jesse leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. “And what was that, Angel?”

 “She said I am the only thing I can control and I shouldn’t let anything else bother me.” She hunched over, mimicking her grandmother’s stooped position. “Act with grace and strength, Anela.”

 She gestured to her back. “So when I was old enough, I got the manta ray on my back. It reminds me of her.”

 Jesse reached out and started to trace one of the swirls on the wing of the manta ray. “It’s beautiful.”

 Anela suppressed a shiver and her skin started to heat up where he was touching her. She wasn’t new to physical intimacy. She had plenty of fun nights and a couple relationships when she was in the Navy Seals.

 This, though, was like diving into new waters and she didn’t have any idea how to swim.

 No one’s touch caused goosebumps to rise on her skin.

 She never wanted someone to touch her more, and not even in the sexual way.

 She just wanted to hold his hand, dammit.

 “Thanks,” she managed to croak out, looking at his face.

 His eyes were hooded and thoughtful as he traced the lines of her tattoo. His hair was pushed back and she found herself liking the look a lot. Her heart gradually started to thump faster in her chest as he moved his finger up toward where the manta ray’s horns ended below the base of her neck.

 “So that’s what a real tribal tattoo looks like? I’ve only seen the ones white assholes get,” he stated, snickering.

 Anela couldn’t help but let out a snort of laughter. “Don’t remind me of those inked disasters.”

 The medic thought she was in the clear now after the joke, but she made the mistake to look him in the eye.

 And dammit, it was turning out to be one of those moments that made her wonder if she should tell him how she felt or not.

 Jesse was painstakingly transparent in that moment, and Anela wanted kiss him so bad. Anela never had anyone look at her like he was looking at her. It was overwhelming and amazing at the same time. A gentle smile came to his lips and Anela felt her breath get caught in her throat.

 “¡Entrado en caliente, cabrón!”

 Anela almost couldn’t process what happened. One moment, Jesse was staring deeply into her eyes. The next, he and Reyes were wrestling further into the water after Reyes basically football tackled him.

 Anela stared at the sight with bewilderment and annoyance.

 Both men were cussing in Spanish and Anela finally just rolled her eyes and stood up, walking back to her spot on the beach.

 Bryn had settled down next to where she and Jesse left all of their things and she spared Anela a look from her tablet as she plopped down beside her. “I see you took my suggestion to heart,” she stated, wiggling her eyebrows.

 Anela furrowed her brows, flicking some water onto the redhead. “Yes, and I hate you for it.”

 “I was trying to help! He’s a dumbass after all.”

 While both Anela and Bryn knew Jesse was far from dumb in many things, Anela had to admit that he may be dumb in this certain area.

 The two women watched as Jesse had somehow managed to dunk Reyes.

 “Shitheads,” Bryn huffed, looking back down at her tablet again.

 Anela couldn’t help but smile.

 Even if the moment was ruined, it was still a perfect afternoon.