#I recall someone said during a long fight wishing there was a way to refill gags mid-battle and yeah turns out there was

[themagicalghost]

OK I FINALLY GOT TIME SO this is probably gonna be a series of asks if Tumblr decides to limit my characters (i dont feel comfy coming off anon in the tt community sorry)

First we gotta talk about the Cogs since all of the gag/reward stuff is gonna have to be based on them

.Exes and .Mgrs were a very welcome change. .Exes instantly give every battle some variety in requiring you to think to take them down instead of memorizing a chart of which combos wipe a group (fuck Zap Camp too btw), and .mgrs were a much needed shakeup, away from the 4 main bosses which got repetitive as hell, that allow just about all the gags and prestiges to shine in some way

Skelecogs and Virtuals in the same way as .exes force you to be on your toes thanks to the varied hp and debuff resistance, virtuals in particular being a good choice for the OCLO, sorry v2.0s but you're boring

Cogs do more damage in general, which emphasizes either taking them all out or stunning them, and Content Sync definitely helps with that. Even with how controversial it was at the start, it was a good choice

Cogs have proper scaling AND HAVE LEVELS HIGHER THAN 12 FINALLY TTR WAS SO BAD AT THIS AND THEY DONT EVEN LET YOU SEE THE NUMBERS WHY TTR MUST YOU BE LIKE THIS

Ok now onto the gags:

But before each one, even more TTR ranting:

WHY CAN'T YOU CHANGE GAGS TTR

ORGANICS ARE SO BAD, PRESTIGES ARE SO MUCH MORE INTERESTING, FUCK GARDENING ALL MY HOMIES HATE GARDENING

Level 7s, while I miss Railroad my beloved, were really badly done and limited where the game could go

LURE COMBO BONUS SUCKS DIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-

Ahem.

Toon-Up: As stated, Cogs deal much more damage, so TU has much more use, especially in .mgrs. The self heal was also something that shouldve been in the game forever ago, and not just relegated to a prestige. At least the Prestige makes you heal even more now. However, TU MISSING was a shit idea on TTO's part because it was the only way they could get Toons to go sad in the sound spammy lure left kill right meta if everything missed. Now you might be forced to take damage, so your cannon missing would be a death sentence. Thank god they removed that early on in 1.3. also the accuracy buff is AN INTENDED MECHANIC THANK GOD

Trap: Trap FINALLY HAS USE CASES OUTSIDE OF LIKE LAWFICES. First off, it's an .exe killer. The hard counter to them. Bye bye mr .exe. And then Clash gave it Dazed, which made Trap/Drop an intended strat too. But also it's just BIG NUMBER. The Prestige is EVEN BIGGER NUMBER. This means you can oneshot even really big Cogs with like a prestige trapdoor where TTR wouldve needed an organic (also bad) TNT

Lure: Yeah Lure Decay was bad but they learned in 1.3, and instead we have a much better system with the per-gag knockback, which lets you deal even more damage with each throw or squirt gag you use, where instead of a hypno doing the same 50% total base damage as a $10 bill, $10 bills do more damage than hypnos. I legit almost stopped carrying 10 bills in clash entirely and went with like 15 magnets instead UNTIL they changed it like that. Also, using a Group Lure with a Single Lure actually synergizes well, especially with Throw setups in like OCLO, since the damage values vary, you can lure and IOU (more on that later) both, with your main target getting a 50 bill, before nuking them with 4 throws, for at least 400 extra damage (460 with prestige!), ON TOP OF THE ADDED COMBO DAMAGE SINCE LURE KNOCKBACK COUNTS FOR IT NOW BY THE WAY. In comparison to TTR which actually nerfed the most useless Organic. And again, I must stress this: LURE BONUS SUCKS DIIIIIIIIIII-

Throw: I'll admit, when I saw it in the QA patch notes, I was hesitant to say the least, but THROW SWAPPING WITH SOUND CHANGES SO MUCH. First off, NO MORE "you lure and throw, ill wedding *uses bike horn*" GREENING. Second: THROW IS JUST SO GOOD AS A DAMAGE DEALER. Combined with the lure changes above, you can deal insane damage to .mgrs with it and Lure. You could probably do an entire Litigation Team with just Lure TU and Throw if you wanted. But it doesn't stop there. Something i neglected to mention is how ALMOST EVERY GAG HAS A UTILITY ATTACHED TO IT. Throw's is a 10% damage vulnerability, and it allows you to do so much. Fun fact tho, it used to have that damage vulnerability as a Prestige, and it scaled with each throw used, but only for 1 turn, and this was when throw was second to last, so it was only really useful for Drop. Now only one person needs to use it and it affects EVERYTHING past it. Got a higher level cog in the mix with some easily soundable ones? Just hit it with a cream, and now it takes even more damage! Just soaked and trapped a .mgr for the accuracy boosts on drop? Add one more debuff to boost Prestige Drop even more (with a free stun!)! AND THEN you add the cherry on top of the Wedding Cake, the self heal prestige. This was absolutely a welcome change, taking some of the heat off of TU and unites as your only healing, to the point that I'd say you should always have your Throw Prestiged. My only complaint is that Toons should take a bite out of it and say "Om nom nom" to heal before throwing it if it's prestige.

Squirt: Squirt in TTR, Throw's crappier brother. Squirt in Clash? Oh man. I'll go more into it in Zap's section, but Zap alone gives Squirt so much use. On its own though, it's still very good. Soaking is good as a dodge debuff, setting up for quick drops on Cogs. But the SINGLE change that made Squirt so good is Splash Damage. Before 1.3, Squirt soaking multiple Cogs was stuck behind a Prestige, so you were basically forced to either run Pres Squirt or don't run it at all. Now, however, not only can you soak multiple Cogs, but it deals free, non-unluring damage to the Cogs on the sides! You can effectively just chip away at a lured Cog until you're ready to take it down, which like the Throw/Sound example above, allows you to lower the Cogs to juuuust enough in just the right way to where a specific Sound threshold kills. Unfortunately, Prestige Squirt kinda gets the short end of the stick, since unless you're running a solo building, you kinda don't need it for most situations. idk what they could do to fix that tho, it's still fine on its own, just usually overkill.

Zap: And now, the thing that singlehandedly both gave Squirt a purpose and alienated a ton of TTR elitists for the better or worse. Before 1.3, Zap was fuckin weird. Zap could change direction, but only if it was prestiged, jump over other cogs including dead ones, there was no jump pool, just a specific set of 3 decreasing numbers correlating to the order it jumped to, which led to charts getting made for specific groups- it was a lot to take in. Those who were able to master it were REALLY GOOD at taking down groups, but were also pretty toxic usually (hence the "fuck Zap Camp" comment earlier). Also, it was the same as Squirt: either run it prestiged or not at all, which fed into the toxicity even more. Now though? It's pretty good. It can be a few different things, a decent AoE on 3 Cogs with lower damage on 2 of them, high damage on 2 Cogs, with some thought into aiming based on prestiges (for unprestige, aim directly at the target, for prestige, aim at the opposite target for more damage), or a kill confirm on an already soaked Cog. It's way more user friendly now, and I will say seeing Zap Camp's charts be completely ruined gave me a little schadenfreude. Sorry, this was a little community ranty, I again have bad experiences with some of the older members.

Sound: SOUND IS NO LONGER META. I REPEAT, SOUND IS NO LONGER META. This comes down to Squirt/Zap being good AoE, as well as 2 more changes to Sound itself: 1. Sound swapped with Throw in the gag order (from 1.2 and back, not tto), and 2. Encore and Winded. First, the swap makes it to where if you're using Sound on Lured Cogs, it's less likely to troll, but for a specific reason. And even if it is to troll, there's ways to get around it better, since Throw and Squirt won't be affected now. And then we have Encore and Winded, two sides of the same coin. It's great to use your Encore bonus to deal tons of damage to a single Cog, but you could always risk being winded to take out an even bigger group now at the expense of having to wait to use sound again. This alternating pattern of Sound into anything else, along with the fact that Sound can't just wipe out everything in the game now makes sure Sound isn't necessary to beat most things. It's still kinda meta for Buildings and Facilities, but those are kinda harder to fix. Oh, also the prestige is the same as Trap, bigger number is better.

Drop: Oh boy, another gag with a tumultuous history. I'll go over this in the IOU section (yes im doing rewards), but to be Barry Brief, in the early days of Clash, Drop had a bug that made it do AoE damage, which some toxic players abused to hell and back, cramming Drop into the top spot of gags, before being squashed in the 1.2 OCLO update. As for Drop now, it's a really nice damage dealer. Not so much for normal bosses, where it's typically just a finisher for a big Cog, but for .mgrs it can be devastating given enough setup. Trap, Lure, Squirt, and either TU for accuracy or IOU for damage, then Throw and 3 Drop. Now, if you were running Unprestige Drop, it would only get a slight boost thanks to Throw, and the other gags the turn before were just to make sure it hit. But slap a Prestige on, and a single debuff adds 10% damage, with an extra 5% for each additional debuff, with Throw's vulnerability counting as a debuff, which STACKS with the Prestige boost, so those two turns just got you an additional 20%, on top of what Throw adds on the pile. And then consider Drop has a 30% combo multiplier instead of the usual 20% combo damage, and .mgrs start dying quickly. Most .mgr fights I do, I run Prestige Drop.

And now, onto the rewards.

IOUs: So before 1.3, we still had SOS cards, but these were the trickiest reward to balance, even more than Unites. On the underpowered side, we had the 1.2 SOS: a percentage increase for 2 TURNS. PERIOD. Wanted to setup for Drop? You better do it quick, because if Drop misses on that second turn youre SoL. Not that it'd matter because for a lot of gags it did jack. But then we have the other, darker side. The ORIGINAL SOS CARDS. If you played TTO or TTR, you already know how busted those things were. But do you remember that bug I mentioned making Drop an AoE gag? This is where it originated. SOS Cards inherited the Combo damage dealt to a single Cog and gave it to the rest of the Cogs as well, so you could potentially deal a ton of damage to multiple Cogs just by nuking one with Combo damage and using an SOS to spread it out. Do you remember Rain, that random IOU you get guaranteed in the VP that gives you and a friend a +15 damage boost on your next turn? Yeah they used to be a simple 20 damage Drop SOS you could get (and farm) from Derrick Man. You know, in TTC. Who at the time had only 63 HP, enough for an Opera pre-1.3 to kill in one hit. All that's left is an incentive to use Drop en masse... Oh? Old Drop had increasing Combo damage for every Drop gag used, up to 50%? And every Prestige Drop used added an additional 5% Combo damage, up to 70% with 4 Prestige Drops, or 65% with one person using an SOS? You can probably see where this is going. The only thing holding it back was the fact that it wasnt guaranteed to hit- OH WAIT TOONS HIT EXISTS IN ITS ORIGINAL FORM STILL. It was bad. Like "anyone who deviates from the Meta is bad" bad. I was one such very vocal dissenter of Team Drop, advocating that Throw was a good gag, and I got shit on hard for it, to the point where the people who still had a grudge long after fabricated false accusations and threw me out. Ugh this got too personal, sorry. Where were we? Oh yeah, IOUs! They're pretty good now! The fact that they use flat numbers and last a set amount of GAGS used means that setups are easier than ever, and even if you miss, you can still use it again with the boost! They're good for pumping out big numbers! They also affect things like Throw self heal and Splash Damage, so keep those in mind too! I personally like using a Sid Sonata after firing the first Cog after feeding round in CEOs to save on operas.

Unites: I have mixed feelings on how Unites were handled, but I'll save that for the Forges section. As for Toon-Up Unites in their current state, they're pretty good! The Cooldown is honestly a needed nerf (so much so that TTR has it now lmao), and the fact it's percentage based means the heals are more fair! (though if someone is really underlaffed for a fight, they might still get squashed even with a unite). Pretty gud!

Forges: Rest in Peace, Gag-Up Unites. You were so slept on. Forges are the worse version of Gag-Up Unites. Instead of everyone getting their gags restocked, even by a little at the expense of you specifically getting a decently sized cooldown, you can only restock a single gag at a time, and if that gag is too high, you get put on cooldown. Why. In a vacuum, they're ok, but it just feels wrong. They could have left Gag-Up Alls in the pool and kept them how they were with only level 7s or lower, but no, ALL GAG-UP UNITES MUST GO apparently.

Sues: honestly better than fires, imo. Let me explain. Both Sues and fires remove a Cog from the fight. "But wait!" You say. "Sues dont remove a cog from the fight, they just make a Cog not attack!" In theory, yes, that's all they do. But because they don't attack, they're basically out of the fight. However, they aren't OUT of the fight, meaning they take up a slot. And because they take up a slot, that means you can just ignore it and focus on the other 3 that are there. And guess which gags work very well with 3 Cogs instead of 4. Just remember to give them a tap every now and then and they won't ever bother you. Also iirc theyre meta to deal with oclo phase 1 lmao. However some fights don't let you use them as much, so be careful.

Fires: Despite what I just said, Fires are still really good. It's just their uses are more limited. The main examples I can think of are the first Cog after feeding round in CEO, as stated earlier, the Featherbedder fight, and Major Player's Dance Partners. Killing a Cog instantly is still killing a Cog instantly, after all.

WHEW that was a long one, sorry for the personal bits, I just wanted to share my thoughts on Clash's balance for a long time, and I'm glad I finally got to do so. Clash is in a much better state than it's ever been, and I can't wait to see how things are shaken up later.

Oh, one more thing.

LURE BONUS SUCKS DIIIIIIII- *gets sniped by TTR staff*

That's a whole novel in my inbox holy FUCK

This is a lot to take in and I love it, some gags and rewards just used to be broken like woah?? It's nice to see how much progress Corporate Clash has really went through all these years to balance the game out to become as fun and good as it is today

I was curious about those Gag-Ups after seeing them from a Multislacker fight stream just a year ago because I didn't know they were still around at 1.3, too bad they don't exist anymore 'cause they would be very useful in longer fights such as with Pace (round wise) and Chip. Maybe there's a good reason for the removal balance wise... hopefully

The SOS cards was something I was wondering about too after hearing someone say a long while ago that they wished those were still around, based on this I can see why they were removed though

Also I don't mind the personal tangents at all, I love hearing about the details of personal experiences and opinions as it puts it on perspective on how things were back then as well as adding to my own knowledge of it. Thank you for the very long info dump :]

[slyttherins]

Unexpected flame (part 6) | Fred Weasley x Sirius Black's daughter

Believe it or not, but Gryffindors were known to have great parties. And, unlike Slytherin, they weren't too strict about who could enter the party. Everyone was welcomed, as long as they didn't damage their common room or picked fights - which was a basic rule.

Music blasted as Juliet danced with Luna, showing the blonde more modern moves. Ginny, on her end, was looking for Harry, thinking the small bit of alcohol she drank would be enough to ask the Chosen One to dance with her.

''Has any of you seen Harry?'' she asked, stumbling over to two girls with alcohol on her breath.

Juliet spotted him in a corner of the common room, looking at Cho Chung the way Ginny wished he was looking at her. ''I saw him going that way with Ron,'' she said, pointing in the opposite direction. ''Perhaps they went to get drinks.''

''If you see him, tell him I'm looking for him, okay?''

On that, she disappeared in the crowd.

''Should we tell her about Cho?'' Juliet nodded at the fellow Ravenclaw sitting with Marietta Edgecombe on a couch.

Luna followed her friend's gaze. ''Unless there's a possibility Cho and Harry might get together, I say no.''

Luna was right. Why crush Ginny's hopes when nothing was even close to be official? As far as Juliet knew, Cho was still hung on Cedric - his tragic loss still fairly recent - and grieving. She had seen her crying in front of his memorial by Hufflepuff's common room last week and she didn't look like she was ready to move on to another boyfriend anytime soon. Sorry harry.

''Do you think there is a chance that Harry might like Ginny back?''

''Perhaps. For now, I think he sees her more as his best friend's little sister than a love interest.''

''Hopefully he'll open his eyes and see how amazing she is.''

''Hopefully,'' Juliet agreed.

Over Luna' shoulder, Juliet caught sight of Fred who was looking rather hot in his button up with the first top buttons undone. It was a nice change from the sweaters. He was laughing with Lee Jordan and some other friends, a red cup on his right hand.

''Until summer is over,'' they had agreed, back in her bedroom at Grimmauld Place as Fred slipped her cami over her head, hands caressing the newly uncovered skin.

Back then, it had seemed to be a good agreement, but two month had passed since Juliet had last had a taste of the redhead's lips and she was craving him.

''I'm gonna get more beer. Would you like anything?'' Juliet asked, hoping Luna would say no so she didn't have to actually get beer. Juliet didn't really want beer. She just needed an excuse to wander away and go talk to Fred.

Luna declined her offer and kept dancing. She twirled on herself while making odd fly catching movements with her hands. Juliet shook her head. She really was one of a kind.

Juliet smoothed down her dress before walking over to the twins.

''Hey, Black,'' George greeted, seeing her approaching their way. ''Having fun at our party?''

Upon hearing her name, Fred had turned around, feeling his stomach tighten as she stopped before them. His eyes went up and down, from her sparkling eyes and lightly flushed cheeks to the thin straps on her shoulders, exposing a lot of skin up there. There was no denying, she looked hot.

''Very much,'' she replied with a grin. Around them, colorful lights were flashing in the room from some muggle device someone had brought, giving it a club-like ambiance. ''Ravenclaws have parties too, but nothing like this.''

''I think I saw Ginny by the fireplace,'' Fred said, assuming she was looking for his sister.

''Actually, it's you I was looking for. Fancy a dance, Weasley?'' Juliet asked boldly, biting down her bottom lip as she stared right at Fred.

''I can dance with you if he doesn't want to go-'' one of the twins' friends proposed, but his words were interrupted by an elbow nudge from Fred.

Fred put down his empty cup and followed Juliet to the dancing area of the common room, admiring how the black dress hugged her curves the right way as they walked.

Juliet knew what she was doing to him. She had put this dress on purpose, knowing it would get Fred's attention, missing how things were during summer.

Once they reached the dancing area, Juliet snaked her arms behind his neck and Fred pressed his forehead against Juliet's and followed her moves, not wishing to lose body contact with her.

''This is very different than the last time we danced together,'' Fred said, his breath tickling your neck.

Very different, indeed.

At the Yule Ball, Juliet was only looking to make good memories with her friends, but tonight, she was hoping to lure herself in Fred's arms - and bed.

She hummed.

As they danced, Juliet could smell Fred's cologne - which she had dearly missed. She could also smell the firewhiskey on his breath, the appetizer for a good night.

Known as the party-er one, it wasn't surprising that Fred Weasley wasn't a bad dancer - the guy had moves - and Juliet would be lying if she said she didn't like it. Fred's hands moved down her sides, easily following her moves.

They were probably giving a show to their classmates, but they certainly weren't the worst. Someone was most certainly making out in a corner with their hand under a skirt. Parties at Hogwarts were wild.

Feeling hot from dancing, Juliet flipped her hair over her shoulder as she turned around in his hold and began grinding her hips against Fred. The older boy smirked, enjoying this new position.

.

After a few songs, they parted ways and Juliet sat on a couch with Ginny, listening to her hating on Cho Chung.

''I don't see what he sees in her.''

She wasn't wrong.

''They have nothing in common!''

''Beside quidditch, but they aren't on the same team.''

''I like quidditch too,'' the redhead recalled. ''I just made it to the team. I'm only a substitute seeker, but that's a start, right?''

Juliet abstained to tell her that Cho was the official Ravenclaw seeker.

''And Harry needs spice in his life. Not someone bland like Cho.''

''Look at my hair, I'm spice.'' Ginny flicked a piece of her ginger hair and Juliet brought her lips to her red cup.

Juliet's fun was cut short and replaced by jealousy as she watched Fred and Angelina dance together by the drink table. They weren't dancing the way she and him had been earlier, but it still fuelled her stomach with jealousy. How could he?! Juliet's jaw clenched, but she reminded herself that Fred wasn't hers.

''Do you want a refill? I'm gonna get more beer.'' Ginny said, getting up from the couch. She stumbled a bit, but regained her balance.

''Firewhiskey.''

.

Hours later, Juliet was still on the couch, but Ginny was no longer by her side. Her eyes were feeling heavy and she was getting sleepy.

Before she could pass out, George found her. ''Juliet? Merlin's beard,'' he said under his breath, concerned about her. ''How much did you drink?''

She shrugged, not responding to his question and George sighed. He glanced around for his sister or Luna, but none of them were in sight. He couldn't leave her there. Not knowing what else to do, George slid her arm around his neck and brought her up to his dorm with Lee's help.

He couldn't get her to her dorm because of the stupid old-fashion protection rule for the girls' dormitory and it would also require getting into the Ravenclaw headquarters - and George had no idea how to do that. Their passwords were stupid riddles and they weren't his forte.

The boys put her down on Fred's bed, George's having Weasley Wheezes samples on it. Why hadn't he put it away before going down in the common room to party?

''Is she okay?'' Lee asked George before going to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

''Yeah. She just needs sleep.''

''Freddie?'' Juliet asked drowsily, eyes barely open.

George smiled apologetically. ''Wrong one,'' he told her gently. He sat on the bed and removed her shoes, thankful it wasn't one of those complicated, lace up ones.

She nuzzled in the pillow and closed her eyes again. Why had she drank this much?

George was about to tuck her in when the door opened and Fred walked in, still in a party mood. He had only come up to get some sweets to sell downstairs, but he stopped abruptly when he saw Juliet laying on his bed, looking knocked out.

''Finally, you're here.''

''Why did you bring her here? I'm not her boyfriend.'' He sounded bitter and a little drunk too.

''What was I supposed to do? Leave her on the couch? I know I'm the responsible twin, but I assumed you had common thinking.''

Fred sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. George was right. Taking her to their room was smart. Gryffindors weren't wrong-minded, but when alcohol was involved, anyone could've taken advantage of her. Fred felt sick at the idea.

''Sorry. I just...I had a long night.''

''You're not the only one, as you can see.'' George nodded at Juliet.

She reached out and grabbed at one of the twins' arm. ''Freddie? Is that you?''

''Yeah, it's me,'' he replied and sat on the bed, giving his attention to the raven haired girl.

''Can you stay with me?''

[mommymooze]

Coffee is Delicious

Hubert x reader

Mentions of fighting/battles/death  Coffee beans are mutilated 

Your heart is pounding strong and steady as you continue to develop and perfect your lance skills while mounted on the back of your Pegasus. All members of the Black Eagles Strike Force hone their skills constantly, never knowing when they will be called to battle against their enemies. Rising with the sun, you consume a hearty protein filled breakfast followed immediately by sweat laden muscle building exercise. Allowing a brief cooldown while you drink plenty of water to compensate your body for the fluid loss, you then spar and develop your lance techniques.

Lunch is spent socializing with your friends as best you can. Mostly you observe them, too shy to comment or draw attention to yourself. Watching everyone laugh at Caspar’s antics, nodding while all are complimenting Dorothea on her latest opera performance, and hiding your snickers as they give Linhardt a difficult time for just being his obnoxious self.

The next several hours are invested in your magical development. Practicing lower level spells, learning new spells, building your casting abilities and increasing your focus and concentration. Next you are sprinting to the stables for Pegasus or horseback riding. Finally, you clean up, have a light dinner and spend time with friends, or continue research.

If you check the dictionary for the word Shyness, there is a picture of you hiding behind a book and Bernie hiding behind you. Carrying on a conversation with a single person is manageable for you. A war council meeting with 10 or more people? You can manage to be present at the meeting. Participation is out of the question. Entering the room, you take a seat, placing your hands and notebook in your lap. Visibly above the table only your eyes and head move to the direction of the person speaking. Copious amounts of notes fill the pages of the notebook. Thoughts, perceptions, even recommendations on how to carry out tasks that are brought up at the meeting. After a meeting one day when the only two remaining in the room consist of you and Hubert, he asks to see your notes. He is quite aware of your hesitancy to address a group.

“These are excellent observations. Why did you not bring them up during the meeting?” The dark mage inquires, already knowing the answer.

“I, uh, did not want to interrupt. I just…” your voice fades to silence and you can only focus on your notebook on the table.

“May I suggest that you sit next to me during tomorrow’s meeting.” Hubert begins, “If you will allow me to discretely view your annotations, I will offer your thoughts in such a way that no attention or scrutiny will be directed towards yourself.”

“Sure.” You shrug. Not that you would ever disagree with him. You have heard Emperor Edelgard state too many times that Hubert is an extension of herself and any order or direction from him is the same as if she had proclaimed it herself.

Hubert rises and dismisses you. Skittering to your room you drop your book, fall lengthwise on the bed, smash your pillow into your face and scream. Hubert, your crush, noticed you. He appreciates some of your observations and you are invited to sit next to him. It takes you a few minutes to get your breathing under control and the flush to fade from your face.

Quickly throwing on your sparring garb, you run out to meet with Ferdinand for lance practice. Both of you obtain a healthy, challenging workout as he also educates you on the finer points of his presentation that he had made during the council meeting. You actively banter with him, bringing up some notable flaws and considerations which he appreciates and will review your logical points.  

The Strike Force is embroiled in a particularly rough battle close to the Oghma Mountains. The air is cooler there to begin with, however with it being Guardian Moon with temperatures below freezing, the winds tear through your clothes like frozen daggers of ice as you fly on your Pegasus. The close knit group is responding to the reports of a large quantity of enemy forces entering into Varley territory.

Your coal black steed swoops low, hooves barely clearing the ground as you direct your lance into the chest of an enemy cavalier. Just as the winged steed is directed to head back into the skies, an enemy mage strikes with a flash of purple light blinding your vision. An experienced flier such as yourself should have no problem hanging on, however the frigid temperatures combined with flying at dizzying heights and speeds have allowed the unforgiving chill of the weather into your limbs, your hands too numb to firmly grip your saddle, you are thrown from the back of your steed. The screams of dying soldiers the last thing you hear before you lose consciousness.

 There is no camp as they planned to arrive, fight, and return. The Empire’s Elite forces decide to detour further into Varley territory, where roads are better constructed and Inns are not too difficult to find.

You are carried from the field after the battle concludes. The healers asses your condition. A concussion and aftereffects of being struck by black magic. Your resistance has greatly improved since the academy days and you will recover without any permanent damage.  

Traversing the fields and undeveloped countryside on horseback is slow because several riders have to double up. Ferdinand offers to carry your unconscious form, however he has injuries of his own to care for. Hubert mounts his mages warhorse and is assisted with securing your unconscious form in front of him. He wraps his large cape around the both of you to assist in conserving warmth between you. Your Pegasus is given to another rider more accustomed to traversing at great heights, they scan the countryside and lead the way to safety.

The exhaustion from battle washes over everyone as they ride with little conversation heading east, eagerly anticipating a warm meal and soft bed for the evening.

Hubert checks your positioning, your back leaned up against his chest, your cheek pushed tight against his sternum.  

A soft voice mumbles from within his cape. “Yumm. Smells so good. Coffee.”  

The hand around your waist shifts slightly. “Shhh. Rest. You have a concussion.”

You snuggle closer to him in your haze. “Hubert’s voice is so deep and sexy. Mmmm.”

The dark mage’s eyes cast about him, nobody appears to be close enough to hear you but him.

The horse jostles you both as it steps into a dip of the ground and he tightens his grip around your waist.

“I want to have coffee with him. Stare into his gorgeous chartreuse eyes. Delicious.” You murmur.

The troops finally meet up with the road, the travel now much quicker with even ground for the horses to traverse. Hubert rooms with the Emperor while you are in a room with Linhardt and a few other injured soldiers.

 You arise quite early in the morning, having slept through much of the ride here. Running down to the stables you check your Pegasus, relieved that he is quite healthy. Heading back inside you grab breakfast and a large coffee, finding a quiet corner to sit and try to recall what happened that led you to finding yourself here.

A few others of your group are scattered about the room. You half-listen in on their conversations. You take your dishes back to the counter and obtain a refill. As you return to your seat, you are followed by Hubert.

“Might I join you?” he requests as he stands across the table.

“Absolutely.” You quietly answer as he takes the seat across from you. The coffee is too hot to drink, you wrap both hands around the cup, warming your fingers nicely.

“Are you feeling better today?” Hubert asks, bringing his drink to his lips for a sip.

Your eyes are riveted on his. You realize that you are gazing at him far too intensely, suddenly you’re looking away and breaking out in an embarrassing blush. “Yes. A bit of a headache. I feel much warmer. I recall the cold was getting the best of me. I should have stayed on the ground when my fingers started becoming numb. I hope I did not cause any major problems.” Bringing your cup to your lips, the coffee is still boiling hot. How can he drink it like that?

“Not at all.” He smiles, taking another sip.

The room begins to fill with the rest of their group. Linhardt sits next to Hubert, placing his plate filled with sweet rolls and cup of tea onto the table. “I can’t wait to get back and get some proper sleep.” The healer frowns. “Someone talks in their sleep and wouldn’t stop rambling about coffee all night long.” The cleric’s green eyes drill holes into you. You weakly smile as you raise your cup to cover your face and hide behind it. You sort of know you talk in your sleep, but this is the first time someone understood what you said. Mostly you were told you mumble. Just another reason to hide away and keep to yourself.

 The journey back to Enbarr is uneventful and quiet. Your Pegasus is not exactly thrilled to be grounded most of the way back, however the weather is cold and you do not wish to be chilled so soon again. Arriving home, you slip back into your regular routine, working on your muscles and skills. The weather is cold, wet and dreary, you must forgo riding for several afternoons.

Heading to the kitchen you decide a cup of coffee would be the perfect warmup on this chilly day. As you enter the always busy room, the cooks are bustling about, preparing the meat and vegetables for the next meal. As you finish preparing your drink, pouring it through a clean cloth filter, Hubert arrives to obtain yet another cup of his favorite caffeinated beverage. With too many people around you don’t speak, but you do wave to greet him.

“Afternoon.” The dark haired mage grumbles. “The weather is cold and miserable. Best for staying indoors by a warm fire.”

You nod slowly, gripping your cup firmly.

“There is a decent fire in the library should you need further assistance in combating the weather’s chill.” He says before the noise of grinding his coffee beans makes talking impractical.

You nod as you leave, heading to your room.

 You mull over Hubert’s suggestion to sit by a warm fire instead of freezing under your blanket in your cold and damp room. Summoning your courage, you decide it is to your benefit to seek a warmer location while you are studying, no matter who or how many others may be occupying the room. Turning the corner to where the fireplace is located in the library, you are surprised that only Hubert is here, occupying one of the more comfortable chairs in the room. The smell of the burning hardwood fills the room, adding to the warmth of the blazing flames. The other occupant does not raise his head from his reading as you sink into an overplush chair that comfortably hugs you. The upholstery is warm, immediately making you feel secure and relaxed. Placing your still warm coffee cup on the arm of the chair you open your reading material to where the bookmark holds your place. Concentrating on your book, you only raise your eyes to reflect on a particular passage or to imagine the depths and runes of the spell you are studying.

Reading a particular dark magic spell you look to the other spellcaster in the room. Your mind conjures up the last time you observed him cast this spell, perfect concentration reflected in his face. His posture is immaculate, leaning slightly forward, his right arm fully extended creating the runes consummately while his voice deeply and powerfully orders the incantation. The purple luster of magic gathering in front of him, quickly growing in magnitude and power as the spell bursts forth, striking and eliminating the enemy. Unconsciously you let out a sigh of awe.

“Pardon?” suddenly his eyes are focused on you, his brows raised.

“Your spellcasting is fabulously perfect.” The words are out of your mouth before you realize you had said them out loud. Your cheeks burn with the heat of a blush as you desperately resist the urge to bury your face in the pages before you.

“Thank you.” He muses.

Both parties return to their reading, the only sound in the room is the occasional page turning and the popping and crackling of the fire.

A throat clearing ahead of you draws your attention from your book.

“Should you wish to further your development of your reason magic skills, I humbly offer my assistance.” Hubert proposes for your consideration, not looking up from his reading.

“To increase my abilities aiding the cause toward our Emperors victory, I accept your proposition.” You smile widely.

There is the slightest smile that flashes across Hubert’s lips that you are thrilled to bear witness to.

 Hubert joins you in the spellcasting section of the training grounds when he finds the time. Your stomach flips every time he touches you to correct your arm position, your stance, standing behind you to watch your rune manipulation. By the time he leaves to head to his next appointment you are tomato red and breathless.

 Today is one of your longer learning sessions and quite productive. After dinner, you decide to retire to the Library to procure a book Hubert recommends that covers additional spells and manipulation of runes. The two comfy chairs are taken by others, thus you make do with alternate seating on the couch that faces the fireplace directly. Placing your coffee cup on the end table you open the tome and become immediately immersed in its contents. The other occupants of the Library leave without your notice.

Hubert greets you as he enters the room. Taking a seat on the other end of the couch, he places his coffee on the end table, opens his book and begins reading.

After reading quietly for nearly an hour you are deep into the section dissecting rune manipulation and you find there are a few passages that are not quite make sense to you. You stop to take a sip of your now very cold coffee, nearly choking on the nasty liquid.

Hubert looks over to you. “Are you all right?”

“Cold coffee.” You stammer and catch your breath. “Actually, I have a question about this section here…” You say, holding the book between you, scooting a bit closer to him as you point out the section. The dark haired mage slides next to you so that you both can review the passage. He carefully explains the runes, their order and how the instruction of the manipulation contributes to the verbal incantation thus giving the magical energy and power to the spell.

Everything suddenly clicks. Smiling brightly in your frenzied joy, you turn to Hubert and give him a peck on his cheek.

Your gasp as your eyes go wide as realization hits you regarding your most recent action.        

Hubbert’s gloved fingers gently grasp the side of your jaw, turning your face toward him again. “I think you meant…” he hums as his lips gently meet yours in a soft kiss. You grab his lapels, keeping your lips pressed together until you find the need to breathe again.

He slides his arm around your shoulder as you lean into his chest.

Hubert presses his lips to the crown of your head. “I find you delicious as well.”  

[wafflesetc]

One Night

A one quote, one shot for book 2! A special thanks to @notevenjokingfic and @balfeheughlywed for putting this together.  I want to *formally* apologize for not posting this on my original date, but I guess it is better late than never. Thank you to everyone for the warm welcome back into the writing fold, I hope you all enjoy this little one-shot.

Why I had let Geillis convince me to go out on a date was one thing. Why I had let Geillis to go out on a date with a man from a dating app called Tinder was a whole other issue I was not quite ready to fight. (Why had I allowed her?)

Rationally deep down I knew I had secluded myself. I was nearing three years since I had broken off my engagement. Three years since I had last even shared a piece of myself with a man. I had given Frank Randall all of myself while losing pieces of myself in the process.

I had been a nurse making her way through med school when he got a job at a highly esteemed university. I had given up my medical school dream and moved to another country for him. Six months into adjusting to my new life in Scotland, I had come home to find another woman in my bed. With my fiance. 

Hastily packing my bags and running to my friend’s I thought my life and my career were over. Slowly over time, I had taken step after step to regain who I had been before my relationship. I applied back to medical school, finished my remaining classes, and earned a spot in a highly esteemed residency program. During the past three years, I had dived back into my studies and patients. Forgoing many social activities with friends, let alone trying to even find it within myself to date. But after months and months of a stubborn Scot pestering me, I caved.

Now sitting at the pub, I was reminded of all the turmoil that came with going out on a “first date.” Tale as old as time, it was the same again and again- broken hearts searching for their next beau, the man who just wants to get into someone’s pants on that particular night, or the man who couldn’t stop talking about himself. Somehow I had found a man who I suspected checked all three of those stereotypes tonight. And I couldn’t be bothered. 

He was somewhere between telling me about  that girl that had broken his heart and how this was his first step in getting back into the “dating realm”, but he had long lost me when he couldn’t stop talking about himself. 

I swirled the amber fluid in my tumbler, staring down at the contents. 

“And she got right back with the man. I tried to tell my mate that it would happen, and he encouraged me to try this app….” His voice was subdued. I could barely hear him above the other ramblings at the pub, “And it led me to you…” 

Here it came, the invitation back to his flat. I could sense the sexual frustration oozing from him. 

“It’s rather loud in here,” Suddenly his voice was confident and seemingly entertained, as if he just knew I was going to say yes to going home with him when I couldn’t even remember his name.  “Would you like to take this back to my flat?” 

I took the last swig of my whisky.  “You are a rather lovely gent, but I had to admit… I didn’t want to come on this date nor do I even recall your name. I begrudgingly came to appease a friend of mine. I’d much preferred to have spent my night studying for my boards than be here over some shallow conversation when you are just trying to get in my pants for the night.” I set the glass firmly on the table. “So no, I would not like to take this back to your flat. There is a young blonde at the other side of the bar that has been admiring you all night, why don’t you try your luck with her?” 

I could hear the nameless date choke on his breath. I smiled at him as he stood, taking his coat, and quietly pushing his chair in, slithering  away like the slime that he was. Feeling empowered, I raised my glass to the bartender nodding my head, motioning for a refill on my beverage. He nodded back mouthing at me, “Just a minute.” 

It was then out of nowhere, I felt a hand on the small of my back. 

“Care for some company, Sassenach?” I could hear the thick Scottish accent and feel his warm breath on the back of my neck. I was in no mood to tell off another man.  

“If you didn’t just hear me I told off the last man that I was with. I’d rather not have to do it to two men tonight.” At least I was being honest.  

“Ye dinna even wish to hear me out, then?” He walked across the table and I took stock of his features.  Even in the dimly lit bar I could tell that he was tall, built like a rugby player, and had the most Scottish head of red hair I had ever seen. But there was something in the way that he spoke to me, a playful banter, a confidence, and a gentleness all that the same time that I couldn’t quite shake.

“I have a feeling even if I tell you no, you will still let me, ‘hear you out.’” I quipped my best attempt at a Scottish accent.

“Ye are a witty one, are ye no’ Sassenach?”  He took the empty seat across from me while the bartender set my drink down. 

“I’d be more inclined to be witty if you were to tell me what Sassenach means.” I reached for the glass but the Scot was quicker snatching it before I could grab it. He attempted a wink but it was the farthest thing from a wink I had ever seen.

I could feel the blush rising in my cheeks, the damn man had already gotten me to smile. 

“Ah so ye do smile.” He took a sip of my whisky. “Sassenach is a Scottish word, it means outsider. Ye are in Scotland and ye have an English accent.” 

“I get it, I’m an outsider here, then?”

“Aye ye are.”  He slid the drink across the table. “One that seems to have been set up on a date that ye dinna want to go on.” 

“How did you know that?” I reached for my drink and took a sip as I watched him shake his head in amusement. 

“I was sitting at the table behind ye, doing the same exact thing.” 

“And what might that be?” I took another sip and raised my brow at the mysterious man in front of me.  

“Being on a date that I dinna want to be on. My date couldna start talking about herself and yer date couldn’t stop talking about himself. Seems like they should have been on a date with one another.”

“I see.” I took a breath.

“I can sense that ye have a lot to say if given the chance and I wanted to give ye the chance.” He reached for my glass again, this time brushing his fingers over mine sending chills down my spine. 

“Well, with my story and luck, I think it is safe to say that I am going to hell tonight for how I just treated that man.” I tried to quip my best sarcasm, but there was something about this man that made me want to open up to him.

 “Between hell now, and hell later, Sassenach,” he said, his speech measured and precise, “I will take later, every time.”  He reached for the drink, taking the last sip.

“I’m Jamie, Jamie Fraser. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He stuck his hand out and waited. 

“I’m Claire, Claire Beauchamp.” I placed my hand in his knowing full well, my world was about to be changed forever.

[anxiouslymalicious]

Until I can trust you.

Pairing: Ben Hardy x reader

Summary: A continuation of Until we know in which Ben and the reader finally talk

Word Count: 2,354

Warnings: None that I can think of. Maybe swearing and mentions of sex and alcohol. 

A/N: Okay so this might be a little lame, but I think it is kind of important to the upcoming chapters. Anyway, the next chapter is already in writing (it’s literally 1k words so far)

Tagging: @mamaskillerqueen @yourealegendroger @lakef @mcrmarvelloki @oh-well1 Message me if you want to be tagged in any future chapters!

After that little speech Ben dropped, you went back to your room to get dressed into something more comfortable. You had packed your favourite jeans and an oversized shirt you bought at a concert once. You quickly brushed your teeth, washed the remainder of your make up off your face and tried to fix your hair, then went out to meet Ben for breakfast. He was visibly nervous, straining himself to act only friendly around you. Silently, you two made your way to the dining room where Lucy, Rami, Joe, Gwil and his wife along with some of their family members were seated in a special room, reserved for the wedding guests.

“Morning.”, you said as you said down on the free chair next to Lucy. Everyone’s eyes visibly widened as Ben sat down next to you. It wasn’t long until Lucy noticed a hickey on your lower neck, one that you hadn’t seen as you covered all the other hickeys with make up that morning. She smirked at you, pulling you out of your seat with the excuse of helping you settle on what to have. Lucy pushed you away from the table, leading you to the buffet.

“What happened last night?”, she asked teasingly as you eagerly grabbed a plate and filled it with whatever your stomach longed for.

“Nothing. Had a good talk with my toilet.”, you told her, avoiding eye contact as you kept filling your plate.

“Seems like you had a good talk with someone else, too. And I think I know who the lucky one was.”, Lucy replied, not believing a word you said. Instead, her gaze wandered to where Ben was vividly talking to Roger and Brian. Both had attended the wedding, but you hadn’t felt the need to talk to them. You had only met them a handful of times, but they were always rather busy, so you never exchanged more than friendly Smalltalk with them.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”, you mumbled after you followed her gaze for a second. You felt your cheeks heating up, but you didn’t give up on playing it down. Neither you nor Ben knew what was going on between you two, so trying to explain this mess to someone else would prove to be even harder. Sadly, though, you were not an actress like her or Ben, so all of this proved to be quite difficult.

“Y/N, please stop pretending. There are hickeys on Ben’s neck, there are hickeys on yours and you two walked down here together. Now that we’re talking about this, I don’t recall seeing you or Ben anymore after Rami and I danced for a bit.”, Lucy smirked at you and finally took a plate of her own, filling it with a few sweet items.

“Okay. We might have hooked up, but we don’t know what to do next. Because I can’t just pretend the last few months didn’t happen, but I can’t just ignore my feelings either. I’ll tell you what’s going on once Ben and I have talked about it, I promise, but please let’s just have breakfast and focus on Gwil. Please.”, you told her, and Lucy nodded understandingly before you two made your way back to the table. You smiled as you sat back down next to Ben and started devouring your meal. It wasn’t every day that you got to eat as much as you could without having to clean up or cook yourself, so you were sure to make the best out of it.

Your mood, however, wasn’t the same anymore after your little chat with Lucy. You knew she only meant well, but it really did put a damper on your mood to not know what was going on between you two and to know that you would have to have a serious talk after this. Adding to that was the fact that you felt as though everyone’s eyes were resting on you and only you. Everyone who sat at the table was engaged in conversation, but it still felt like you were the centre of attention.

And you did not like that.

Hurriedly, you finished your breakfast without speaking much. Only replying when you were asked something with as little words as possible and then again when you told everyone at the table that you were about to go back to your room to pack, wished them a good day and told them to get home safely. You thanked Gwil and his now wife for the invite once more and told them to enjoy their upcoming honeymoon before you made your way back.

‘Hey love, are you alright? Do you want to go to your home first and then come over to talk or are you driving to mine first?’, said a text Ben had sent only seconds after you stepped into your room.

‘I’m going to bring my stuff to my flat, make sure that it hasn’t burned down yet and then I’ll come over. I can be over at yours around 3.’, you texted back. Suddenly, the world felt heavy on your shoulders.

‘Sounds good to me. Drive safely, see you then.’

You sighed. You didn’t have much work to do, all you did was throw your heels and dress into your bag, along with your toiletries, before checking once more that you had everything, then proceeded to check out and drive off. It was around noon when you left.

The drive seemed endless. You dreaded getting home because it meant getting one step closer to talking with Ben about your situation, which was destined to be awkward. Throughout the whole drive, you felt like you were trapped in one of those very aesthetically pleasing but otherwise really stupid road trip scenes in high-school-movies in which the beautiful teenaged daughter has to move with her family and pretends to be super edgy with her music and thinking about how no one gets her. But unlike the girls in those movies, you were driving the car.

You sighed at your own stupid thoughts.

It wasn’t long until you arrived at your flat and you once more felt your heart drop as no one was there to greet you. No one was there to ask how your drive was. No one was there to ask if you had fun. No one was there to cuddle up to you. You were all alone.

During your relatively short stay at home, you did basically nothing. Well, nothing but think. For the most part, you were lost in your thoughts, drowning in emotions. Anxiously, you looked at the clock. It was exactly two minutes later than the last time you looked. With a defeated groan, you stood up and made your way outside. You were early, but your nerves had gotten the better of you and sitting in your lonely flat would only strain your nerves further.

When you arrived at Ben’s flat twenty minutes before you were almost disappointed to see that he was already there. There was this strange fight going on inside you. One part of you was desperate to get it all out while the other really didn’t and preferred to live in the bliss of unawareness.

“Hey.”, Ben said with a smile as he pushed the door open for you. The second you set foot in the flat you once called your home, you heard a very familiar barking. Seconds later, Frankie was excitedly jumping around your feet, continuously trying to jump up your legs and, thus, trying to get closer to you. With the biggest grin, you kneeled on the floor to embrace her. You missed the adorable creature.

“Hey Frankie. How are you? Did you miss me?”, you asked her in one of those extremely sweet voices that you just couldn’t control.

“She did. Was constantly whining at the door. Always looking for you, waiting for you.”, Ben replied for his dog, watching the scene lovingly. He had missed this. Everything just felt right. But Ben was as aware as you were that this was only the calm before the storm.

Your heart ached a little. Frankie and you had been rather close before you left. You always enjoyed her presence, the little furball was always so full of energy, yet she never refused a nice long round of cuddles on the couch.

Finally, you looked up at him.

Ben’s hair was wet. It looked like he had just come out of the shower. He had lazily thrown on a shirt and some sweatpants. His eyes still looked a little bloodshot and he was nervously gnawing on his lower lip.

“You want something to drink?”, Ben now asked, nodding towards the kitchen.

“How about we get some tea and talk?”, you asked in reply to which Ben nodded. Both of you walked towards the open kitchen, Frankie in tow, and you set down at the table while Ben turned on the kettle before taking out two cups. The silence between you two was deafening as Ben prepared your tea. Your fingernails were suddenly quite interesting.

Ben watched you intently. You were fidgety, trying to avoid any kind of eye-contact for as long as possible. Ben didn’t really feel much different about the situation, though. He was trying to busy himself with anything that met his eye. Whether it was refilling Frankie’s water bowl or giving her treats as he waited for the water to boil.

When Ben placed both cups, you knew the time had come to talk.

“So…”, Ben said quietly.

“So…”, you replied. A pregnant pause ensued.

“How about we start with talking about how we feel?”, Ben asked, looking up at you, trying to meet your eyes.

“Okay. Uhm… Where do I start?”, you felt awkward, took a breath and then got started.

“Ben, I still feel a lot for you. I would be lying if I said that I didn’t miss you at all and tried to tell you that I was just able to keep going after our relationship ended. I was a mess. A huge mess. I was hurt and- and I felt insecure and unlovable and like I wasn’t worth shit. Especially after you broke your promises again. I still feel that way. And if I’m being honest, what we did last night wouldn’t have happened if I wasn’t drunk. I don’t regret it, I just…” You sighed.

“I need you to know that this can’t be fixed with a simple one-night stand.”, you couldn’t stop the word flow once it started, trying to get out everything at once. All those words and emotions had been bottled up inside you for far too long and needed to get out.

Ben moved his hand, wanting to place it on yours in a calming manner, but deciding against it.

“I’m so sorry. So fucking sorry.” Ben hid his face in his hands. “I never wanted this. I was stupid, so stupid. I love you so much. Always will. You are one of the most important people in my life.”, he replied, and his voice was already shaky. Frankie barked almost like she was asking if he forgot about her.

“No one’s more important than you, Frankie.”, you told the dog and held your hand out for her to nuzzle her head into. She obliged happily. Ben chuckled lightly.

“You are so loveable, Y/N. That’s what scared me. I was scared that you would find someone better while I was gone for filming. Someone who doesn’t leave you behind for months for a new project. Someone you can come home to every night and- and have that picture-perfect life you deserve. And last night when we talked and kissed and had sex, everything felt so perfect. Like I was whole again. And I know that none of my actions can be forgotten because of one night, but I’m willing to be a better person. For you. If you will let me. Of course, I’d understand if you didn’t want to get back together. Been a proper dick to you.”, Ben finished, his eyes big with hopes. His whole body was leaning forward, leaning towards you. You had to lean back a bit in your chair.

“Ben, I appreciate the fact that you are willing to try, but I am not sure if I can still trust you. I’m torn between my heart and my brain. My heart tells me to come back to you because I miss you and Frankie dearly, nothing feels like home. Nothing except you two. But my brain tells me to think rationally. I’ve given you a second chance and you fucked it up. I’m scared of being hurt again. I don’t think I could take it.”, you started sobbing now. It pained you to say that, but you couldn’t risk being that hurt again. Ben nodded as tears ran down his face.

Neither of you said anything for a bit. Sniffling and sobbing echoed through the otherwise quiet place. Not even Frankie dared to make a sound, instead looking up at you two with those huge beautiful eyes. She had placed herself in a corner of the room, watching you two.

“How about,” Ben started, sniffling lightly as he tried to get his breathing and tears back under control, “How about we try to be friends?”

“You want to forget about last night?”, you asked in a watery voice, wiping your face with your own hands. Ben shook his head eagerly.

“No, no! Not at all. I thought we could try to be friends until you can trust me again. Until you feel like I deserve you again.”, Ben reluctantly placed his hand on yours on the table. His eyes were searching for eye-contact and, as they found yours, looked at you with an intensity that made you shiver.

You took a deep breath.

“That sounds wonderful. I’d like that a lot. Let’s be nothing more than friends until I can trust you.”, you smiled a little.

And a greatly appreciated, very ordinary afternoon was what followed.

[juliussneezerfics]

Blood Red Lilies and Baby Blue Cornflowers: Chapter 4 - Aggression

After a much-needed year at England's house, Germany must journey over to America's. Will America's resentment and lack of compassion bring Germany's internalized rage to the surface?

Ao3

******

Though he tried to suppress the thought, he couldn't help but considert he awkwardness of his current situation.  He was sitting in a car next to a seething America in the back seat. The two drivers in the front glanced back at Germany in the rearview mirror occasionally, blowing away any hope Germany had of having a private conversation with the country. While Germany's seperation from England hadn't exactly been tearful, he already found himself missing the guarded nation. Germany didn’t die alone at the end of that tenth month at England’s. England sat there, his face ghastly white as he talked calmly to Germany. Germany had no idea what England had said during those last terrifying moments of life. He could barely register the calming sound of his level voice over the wheezing of his chest. Over the sound of his coughs. His grunts as he succumbed to a ghastly pain. 

Those two remaining months were different. The two never mentioned the death. England had treated Germany as if he had woken up from a long nap, offering him breakfast and talking about some paperwork that had come in. The two got along as they did before, with slightly lowered walls. They held conversations during meals instead of confining themselves to books. Instead of Germany holing up in England's library, the two sat in the common room. Together, they did their own solitary tasks. All in all, it wasn’t a bad two months. Still, Germany wished he could have spent his time there normally instead of succumbing to death in the way he did.

He was shocked out of his musings as the car began to bounce on gravel. Germany peered out the window with interest. He had never been to America's house. The house was bigger than any other countries’. The architecture was obviously inspired by the white house, the spotless white exterior supported over a huge porch by blank columns. A rather dramatic staircase led up to the two large double doors. Lining either side of the driveway were neat hedges, trimmed to perfection. The car rolled to a stop, Germany swallowing something down. He wasn't sure what it was, but some sudden animalistic instinct in him told him to turn tail and run. To never come back. To go anywhere without a building and relish the wind. The rain. To walk in the grass without shoes for once.

Like Italy did.

Perhaps Germany was going stir crazy.

“You get out of your door, I’ll get out of mine.” America instructed.

Germany nodded, cracking open his door. He hefted his bag on his shoulder as he stood. He watched as America rounded the back of the car, expecting him to continue his path up to his house. Instead, he was surprised to see America stop in front of him. America's blue, searching eyes settled upon him like he was waiting for something.

“What?” Germany found that he had to work to keep his voice nonchalant. He wasn't sure what it was, but something made him want to snap at America. Get him to leave him alone.

“Lead the way.” America prompted.

Germany turned toward him, his gaze lowering to America’s fingers as they twitched toward his back. He turned his gaze back up, recalling that America had a habit of tucking his pistol between his belt and his pants. “Really?”

“No telling when you’re going to run, man.”

Germany sighed through his nose, but said nothing as he turned to the house and began the trek to the steps. He stepped up the stairs, drawing closer and closer to the top of the porch. He stopped and faced the driveway and yard. He relished these last few moments he would have outside before he would return to his prison. Shutting his eyes, he relished the feeling of the sun on his skin. Of the wind caressing the sharp features of his face. If he really tried, it was like he could remember a better time. He wasn't sure if he could remember freedom.

He couldn't decide if he had ever truly been free.

“Get a move on. It’s too late to escape.” America prompted Germany with his gaze.

Germany grunted at him, finishing the walk to his prison. This was going to be a long year.

Indeed, he was correct. The first two weeks were… interesting. Wherever Germany would go, America would not be far behind. He would go to the living room to read a book, America coming in to join him not five minutes later under the pretense of listening to the radio. He could go to the kitchen to refill his glass of water, America following to grab a snack. The only place Germany could snag a few moments’ peace was up in his room, but even then he had a time limit of five minutes to get what he needed. He was allowed in his room during the night for rest, but even then he was locked within his own quarters. Perhaps it was stubborn of him to regard this solitude negatively, but even this felt like part of America's game. To give him what he truly wanted, to be truly alone, and to lock him alone in a room with himself. For hours with only his thoughts to keep him company.  

At first, Germany took this to be an intimidation tactic. A temporary arrangement intended to let Germany know who the boss was before America finally backed off. But no. It had been two weeks and Germany had hardly been left alone. It was starting to grate on his nerves. These thoughts prompted him to peer over the top of his book. To settle his gaze on his captor as America sat in front of the radio and listened to the tinny voice coming through the speakers. Though they were in the sitting room, a communal area, the very presence of the man set his teeth on edge. He put down his book, grabbing his empty glass from the coffee table. He coughed in his hand as he stood, ignoring America as he stood and left the living room to refill his cup. He’d hardly entered the room when America paced in behind him.

Germany sighed, slamming the glass down. “What do you want?”

America glared, apparently undisturbed by this outburst. “I came in here for an apple.”

“Your third one today?” Germany grunted doubtfully. "Very convenient how you're only hungry when I need to refill my glass."

“Look, okay? You tore the world apart. I don’t know what kind of special treatment you’ve been getting at the others’, but don’t forget you’re a prisoner under strict security.” America bit out.

“I haven’t even tried to escape!”

“Yet.”

Germany growled, turning to face America fully. “I don’t know what you plan to accomplish by tailing me, but all I’m asking is that you trust me to-”

“Trust you with what?!” America burst, his usually cheerful voice raw with anger. “We can’t trust you with shit! You started both world wars! You’ve ripped us all to shreds twice! What, you want me to count to five and give you a time out?”

“That wasn’t me.” Germany said darkly. “That was my leadersh-”

“You’re a grown-ass man, Germany! Grown-ass men feel shame when they do something wrong! Grown-ass men take repercussions, just like the rest of us!”

Germany’s brow furrowed further as he coughed into his elbow. The nerve of this man. “You speak like you’re blameless.”

America’s glare loosened into one of question.

“Don’t you dare speak down to me when your history is the bloodiest of us all. Have you really forgotten slavery?! The persecution of Native Americans?! How many lives were lost then?!”

America’s expression darkened to cold fury. “Shut the hell up.”

“You’re not innocent either!” Germany continued.

America surged forward until the two were toe to toe, him looking up at Germany’s face in challenge. “You want to say that again? See what happens?” His voice was quiet. Nothing but a murmur. Like he was suppressing something he could barely control.

Germany leaned down, reveling in the height difference between the two. The resentment that grew within him for the past three years was boiling toward the surface. The knowledge that he would die a painful death for all eternity. The fact that he so desperately loved someone who left his feelings unreturned. The fact that he was blamed for wars that he didn’t even start. The fact that so many lives fell at his hands. Knowing that America had so much war and pain in his history, and yet he was talking down to Germany like he was a saint. He let the words at the back of his mind roll off his tongue slowly, allowing the pause between them to pound at America’s conscience like a sledgehammer. “You. Are. A. Hypocrite.”

America immediately surged forward, seizing Germany by the collar of his shirt.

Germany grabbed America’s hands and ripped them from his shirt, propping a leg behind America’s knees. He pushed America over, tripping him.

America let out a sharp exhale as the back of his head hit the tile of the floor, but his glare never loosened as he tried to sit up.

Germany surged forward, intent on pinning America down to the floor. Before he could, America planted a foot in his chest and kicked Germany away with a shout.

Germany flew backward, his torso and head smacking against the drawers under the counter and landing on the floor. He hardly noticed, however, as his throat was blocked. The force of America’s kick disturbed the petals within Germany’s chest. Germany coughed desperately, bending forward to the ground and propping himself up with his arm. At last, a bundle of petals fell onto the floor. Germany sat up against the cupboards and drawers, trying to catch his breath.

America sat on the floor several feet away, his glare completely gone. He panted, trying to catch his breath from the fight. “Grab a seat at the counter, Germany.”

Germany stared at him, surprised as he stood with slight difficulty. He rounded the counter as America also got up.

As Germany sat down, America crossed the room to the fridge. “Beer?”

Germany paused. Well, that was unexpected. “Please.”

America nodded, withdrawing two bottles. He crossed the kitchen to Germany, tossing the bottle in the air. It made a slow arc and landed in America’s hand, him immediately bringing the cap down against the edge of the counter. The cap popped off. America slid the bottle across the counter.

Germany caught it, raising an eyebrow.

“Party trick. You don't even want to know how many bottles I've broke.” America explained soberly, twisted the cap off his bottle of soda. “I can also tie a cherry stem with my tongue.”

Germany nodded, taking a long drag out of the bottle. God, how he missed the taste of beer. It wasn’t as good as what he had at home, but he was still glad to have the familiar taste.

“Look, man, I’m sorry.” America said suddenly, sipping out of his bottle. “I just… I don’t know. I know it’s not your fault. I just want someone to blame, y’know?”

Germany took another drink and nodded.

“I know I’m not blameless. I’ve done a lot of shitty stuff too. But when your boss says you have to do it… you have to do it.”

Germany nodded again.

“You can try and fight it, if you want. But it doesn’t make much of a difference.”

Again, Germany nodded.

“I don’t know how many years I’ve been fighting with my government to give Native Americans bigger reservations. We always act so appalled at what we did to them, but then we do nothing to fix it. It’s everything wrong with humanity.”

“I apologize for what I said.”

America shrugged, taking a swig from his bottle. “Nah, it’s all true. I’ll lay off, though. I don’t know if you noticed, but I can be a little bit childish sometimes.”

Germany raised an eyebrow.

“That’s a joke.” America added, smiling.

Germany gave him a close-mouthed smile as well, taking a sip out of his bottle.

The next couple months were much more amiable. They were never extremely buddy-buddy, but they got along well enough. It was a peaceful environment. Germany’s health slowly degraded, America handling it in an interesting fashion. America would occasionally ask if Germany was okay (much to Germany’s disdain), but more often than not he casually offered to grab Germany something whenever he happened to get up. Instead of taking charge of the situation, he asked Germany what he wanted to do.

Germany coughed up his first flower while sitting on the couch after dinner.

America looked up from his book, noticing the flower sitting in Germany’s lap. “Y’want me to grab you some tea of something?” He looked completely calm. Almost as if he were offering tea under normal circumstances.

Germany glanced over and noticed his mug was empty. “Actually, yes, please.”

“Cool.” America stood. “I wanted to grab a snack anyway.”

Germany handed America the mug, returning promptly to his book as he dropped the flower in a nearby garbage can.

A couple months later when he could hardly get up from the couch, America came in while preparing breakfast. “Hey, do you want to head upstairs to bed, or would you rather stay on the couch, or what?”

Germany frowned thoughtfully. “May just stay on the couch for now.” He coughed into his hand, wincing as it irritated his raw throat.

“Coolio. Hey, you hungry? I’m making soup.”

Germany had also noticed that America’s menu changed as time passed. The two mostly ate clear-brothed soups for lunch and dinner, oatmeal for breakfast. That was the one thing that America had changed without asking Germany. “No, but I’ll eat.”

“Ey, channeling the American way! I’m rubbing off on you, Germany!” America called, returning to the kitchen.

Germany smiled to himself slightly as he stared out the window. His smile fell. The curtains left only a crack of sunlight through into the room, the sunray landing on his right eye. He shifted, wishing more than anything that he could go outside.

America returned with a bowl of soup. He paused, noticing Germany’s look of longing. Thinking for a moment, he quietly returned to the kitchen, setting the bowl of soup on the counter and running up the stairs. “Attic, attic, attic…” He mumbled to himself, opening the door. Boxes and boxes of things were stacked up on top of each other, a thin film of dust covering everything. His brow furrowed. God, he hated this room. And loved it. He shook his head quickly. He had a goal. He stepped among the boxes and various items, going to the back of the room where he knew sat… his face brightened into a grin.

“Gotcha’!” he lurched forward and squeezed between two towers of boxes, pulling the wheelchair forward. It got jammed between the two stacks, America tugging it impatiently. With a final tug, both towers toppled over. America winced as something shattered within the boxes. “… that probably wasn’t important.” He hefted his prize. “God, you’re heavy.” It was awkward to carry down the stairs, but he prevailed. He slammed it onto the ground with a clatter. “Hey, Germany!”

Germany sat up on the couch, peering over. “A wheelchair?”

“Yup!” He rolled it toward the couch. “We’re going to eat outside today.”

Germany raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that against the rules?”

“I’ve always been a rebel.” He stopped the wheelchair, looking at Germany expectantly. “Get it? Like the revolution?”

Germany blinked.

“Whatever. In the chair you go.”

Germany eyed the chair distastefully, but he hefted himself forward. It was awkward getting in the chair, but he eventually did it.

“You want me to push you, or you cool to do it yourself?”

“I can do it.” Germany decided after experimentally rolling himself forward and backward a few inches. He noted that it was far more difficult to do this than it would have been before he got the cursed disease. A slight grimace marred his face.

“Okay, I’ll grab your soup and we can head out.”

The two headed down the hallway, America balancing a bowl of soup on each hand. Germany got the door and the two sat on the back patio. Spring was just beginning, the trees in America’s backyard blooming with flowers. The breeze played through Germany’s un-slicked hair. The sun shone on his pitifully pale skin. He coughed a flower out as he surveyed the scene around him, allowing it to blow away in the wind. Among the other flowers and petals dancing in the wind, the red-tinged lily almost fit in. Somehow, this was the best he felt since coming down with hanahaki.

America sat in a chair that he dragged from the kitchen, enjoying the scene before him with uncharacteristic silence.

“This is nice.” Germany said.

America nodded. There was another period of silence before he turned to Germany. “Hey, I never apologized for how I treated you after the war.”

Germany looked over at him. “Wasn’t that also included in the apology a couple months ago?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I just thought I should apologize. I was just being a real asshole.”

Germany stared ahead. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

America also looked ahead. “You and your friends… you guys forgive real easily.”

Germany glanced over.

“Japan forgave me almost immediately for the bombing… I mean, I hoped he would, of course. I just didn’t expect it. My boss made me.”

“I figured.”

“But Japan forgave me. Just like that.”

Germany grunted, looking ahead. “Life is too long to hold onto grudges.”

“Hmm.” America hummed. “You’re probably right.”

The two looked ahead, relishing the rest of the day.

Germany finally died on the fifth month. Not even halfway through the year. It was a blow to him. It made him wonder how little time he would eventually have between deaths. If it would get to the point where he would go a week or even a day until he would die. He wondered how much more painful it could be. He wondered how much more he could think of Italy. The man had been plaguing his thoughts nonstop. Even the things that once annoyed Germany seemed endearing to him in Italy’s absence. It tore into him in a way that he didn’t think was possible.

He hated it.

He loved it.

He wanted it to stop, yet begged for it to continue. Dreaded every thought, yet welcomed it with open arms. In his prison, his memories were one of his few freedoms. But, like a meal given in a prison, it was a bitter version of what it should be. But, like a meal, it kept him alive. Kept him going day, to day, to day, to day. From death to death, from year to year. Miserably, he would die. Stubbornly, he would come back. The sun rose. The grass grew. Many people also died, but none of them came back to life.

Life went on without Germany. And that too killed him.

[sunflwrvolume6]

someone lost, something gained [9]

on ao3 | wattpad

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People pass by, to and from the building, and an ambulance screams into the bay around back. Birds land and fly away, crumbs clutched in their beaks like prize-winning meals. An undulating worm of cars inch down the block - red, black, silver, blue, blue, lime green, black... The cup slowly grows colder in her hands, but still Veda sits.

Eventually, Debbie seems to get the hint that Veda won’t open the door again and follows after her siblings, leaving with a squeal of tires. Veda turns away from the front window with a self-satisfied smile. She has to admit that the encounter could have gone in a worse direction. It was, quite frankly, the best outcome that she could have expected. She isn’t sure what to do with herself now that it’s over, though. The anger she felt during the interaction, the pride at standing her ground, is gone again, smothered into nonexistence by the hollow cold that has enveloped her over the last week. Veda sighs and runs her fingers through her hair. A week. Veda can’t believe it’s been a week since Granddad passed. Losing him seems to have cut off any grasp she ever held on time. She pads quietly to the couch, dropping onto the cushions without ceremony, and stares blankly ahead. “What are you doing here?�� Veda asks quietly once she pulls open the door two hours later, and Hattie gives her a grim smile and holds up a bottle of bourbon. “Figured maybe we’d wanna visit Granddad’s old pal.” A true smile, small and wavering but still genuine, twists at Veda’s lips, and she steps back to let her cousin into the house. Hattie passes the Jim Beam over, pulls off her heavy jacket and boots while Veda heads to the kitchen. It may be barely ten in the morning, but Veda won’t turn this down. Glasses full of ice and bourbon, Veda follows her cousin back to the couch. The pair drinks in silence for a while, but Hattie breaks the quiet after their second glass. She reaches out for Veda’s hand, squeezing gently, as a laugh bubbles up. “D’ya remember when- when Granddad was helping me to learn to ride a bike, but you got so mad because it meant that we had to use your bike, and you just, you laid down in the middle of the street and screamed of the injustice in the universe.” Veda bites her lip, nods and ducks her head. “I swear, Granddad about laughed himself unconscious over that. Which just made my tantrum worse.” “Didn’t you only move because of Nonna Costa?” “Well, she was Mamma Costa back then, but yeah. She scared me.” Veda sighs and sips at her bourbon. “Oh, oh! Do you remember when we got into a fight over who’d have the top room whenever we came to visit? And Granddad told us we’d better make a choice or he’d move all his shit up to the room and make us sleep on the couch?” Hattie giggles, pushing her hair from her face. The mid-morning sun casts a spotlight on the tears in her hazel eyes. Veda stares at the amber liquid, gleaming a light golden in the sunlight, and recalls the feeling of righteous indignation she’d felt when Hattie drew the longer piece of the spaghetti noodle. She snorts in amusement when she remembers exactly how she ended up in the room by the next night. “Is that room still haunted?” Hattie asks after a moment, and Veda pauses with her glass halfway to her mouth. “It, uh, it never actually was.” “Yes, it was! Or are you telling me I imagined all the scratching sounds and the voices?” “Well, you didn’t imagine the noises, no, but… it was me.” Hattie stares, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, as Veda admits that the scratching and thumping came from the broomstick handle against the ceiling of the second-floor bedroom, the whispering from Veda climbing on top of her dresser to moan and groan into the air vent that ran between the two rooms. When Veda finally goes quiet, feeling more and more like a total jerk, Hattie slaps her arm. “You asshole! I stayed up all night that night, freaking out because I thought some ghost was going to murder me!” “I’m surprised you never told Granddad about it.” Hattie shakes her head, her grin dimming slightly. “We’d argued for hours over that room, I didn’t wanna admit that I regretted the victory. Figured telling him I felt bad that you were so upset was a good way of, what’s the word, mitigating that.” “I hate that you don’t have very many recent memories of Granddad,” Veda admits softly as the amusement fades. “Honestly, it breaks my heart that you didn’t have the relationship with him that I did.” Hattie blows out a breath and swallows down the last of her drink. Veda watches her cousin refill her glass, drink it all in one long swallow, then pour more Beam in. Once Hattie settles back into the cushions, her lips curve into a slight smile, and she runs her finger along the rim of her glass. “I wish I did, it’s... better, I think, that I didn’t. That I wasn’t around a whole lot after I turned ten. I mean, I was like you for a very long time. I thought everything my mother said was the truth. That she couldn’t - wouldn’t - lead me astray. Grandpa didn’t need that. If I’d been allowed around him, I woulda just learnt to use him like the rest of them. At least he had you.” “What do you mean?” “You weren’t ever like our family, even when your mom had her nails so deep into you that you were her mirror.” Hattie shrugs, a jerky rise and fall of her shoulders. “You never treated him like they did. Not as badly as they did, anyway. Sure, you fucked up and kept going back to Olivia, but you broke free.” Veda leans against her cousin, lets their heads come together. She lifts her glass in the air. “To Granddad, the most amazing man we have ever known and who deserved more than he got.” “May he be gettin’ some tail up in the afterlife.” Their giggles slowly morph into identical weeping, and Veda is so thankful she isn’t alone for this breakdown. Having someone here who feels the same as she does makes it easier to let herself feel anything, even the crushing weight of Granddad’s death and the hole he’s left behind. _______________ Waking up with a hangover is something that Veda hasn’t experienced in a while, and she spent all of Friday nursing cup after cup of coffee that slowly grew cold, incessantly whining and moaning about the pounding in her skull. Hattie didn’t leave until late in the evening, promising to call Veda as soon as she reached her dorm room. The quiet after she left hadn’t been nearly as oppressive. Veda kept herself busy on Saturday by going through Granddad’s records, making a list of which accounts to cancel and which to transfer into her name. It hadn’t been much - the house was completely paid off, a wedding gift to him and Mom-Mom all those years ago, but there were still utilities and property taxes that needed to be paid. Plus, she has to pay an inspector to come in and make sure the house is still inhabitable. Three days after that drunken morning spent with Hattie, Veda finds herself stood in the corridor of the children’s wing, staring around at the passing nurses. Hoping for a somewhat familiar face. It’s a Sunday, but she isn’t certain what that means in the whole scheme of scheduling. “Uh, hi, I’m - I’m looking for Niall. He’s a nurse on this floor.” The woman behind the desk glances up from the file in her hand then immediately goes back to it. “Sorry, doll, can’t give information about staff or patients.” “I know, I know the restrictions. I work in a hospital, too. I just... Okay, well, if you see him, can you tell him Veda needs to talk to him?” “Will do.” Veda nods though the nurse doesn’t see it. Turning on her heel, she heads back to the lift. The to-go cup of coffee in her hand bleeds warmth into her fingers and palm, and she focuses on that the too-hot heat. It isn’t until she is sat on one of the benches outside that she realises that even if the nurse does pass on the message, Niall is going to have no way of contacting Veda. “Wow, really don’t think things through, do ya?” she mutters under her breath, fingernail picking at the edge of the cup lid. People pass by, to and from the building, and an ambulance screams into the bay around back. Birds land and fly away, crumbs clutched in their beaks like prize-winning meals. An undulating worm of cars inch down the block - red, black, silver, blue, blue, lime green, black... The cup slowly grows colder in her hands, but still Veda sits. Footsteps stutter to a stop then double-back. “Ve-Veda?” Veda finally looks away from the toes of her shoes, forcing a smile at Niall. The sun has shifted further to the west in the sky overhead, and she blinks in surprise. She hadn’t realised so much time has passed. She tightens her grip on the cup in her hand and clears her throat. “Can we go get that coffee now?” Her heart sinks when his confused expressions turns pained. He shoves a hand through his already-mussed hair and blows out a heavy breath. “I just got off a thirteen-hour shift. I, I don’t really think it’s a good time for that.” Veda knows her smile is far too brittle, but she nods and says, “Oh. Okay. That’s fine. Yeah, totally fine. I just, uh, wanted to see if the offer was still open. That’s all. Totally fine.” She hides her mortification - and disappointment - by taking a sip of her coffee, grimacing at how cold and stale it’s become. Tossing the cup into a nearby bin, she adjusts her jacket and bustles past Niall. He wraps his fingers around her wrist as she passes, tugs her to a stop. She avoids meeting his eye directly. Instead, she stares at the curve of his eyebrow. “I have tomorrow off, though,” he says softly. “I can come by yours around nine?” Veda swallows, dipping her chin. “That sounds great.” “Are you okay?” he asks after a pregnant pause; his blue eyes skim over her face as if trying to read the answers there. “I’m… not sure. I’ll see you tomorrow, Niall.” He releases her wrist, fingers sliding lightly across her skin as she pulls her hand back, and she sends him another smile before walking away. Something other than the usual grief niggles at the edges of her soul. It takes a long moment, but she eventually puts a name to it - hope, comfort.

[thatfairyfangirl]

Part Of That World Chapter 6

With your copy of Two Towers firmly in hand you seated yourself on the sill of a slightly opened window, enjoying the scents of impending autumn as you slowly flipped through the book. Tolkien always held a special place in your heart... Fingertips danced around a warm cup of coco as you drank in the words blissfully...though the technology had changed so much while you were gone you were glad to find nothing could ever replace a good book.

“You know they made that into a movie.” Clint offered with a smile as he sat against the wall next to you. “We’re going to be watching them later tonight if you want to join us...Steve has never seen them so…”

“So no spoilers.” You chuckled with a nod.

However, it would seem the movie is never as good as the book. It didn’t take you long to begin complaining...Where’s Tom Bombadil...Who is this chick, where’s Glorfindel….woah woah THAT’S Arwen?! and so many more questioning complaints spilled from you mouth as you sat curled up under a soft blanket. 

“If one more word comes out of your mouth I swear to god!” Bucky warned as he watched your mouth open to complain about the difference in the mirror scene. “It’s different. Get over it!” He added as you threw some popcorn at the TV, face scrunched. However, much to his delight, not long after you nodded off, sparing him complaints for the second and third movies...never admitting that in the back of his mind he was now wondering how it went in the book. Once the final scene had played and the credits began to roll for the last time Bucky made his way back to his room, passing by your open door on the way. He cautiously looked down both ends of the hall before slipping into your room. Coral and shells made up the majority of the decor, a small photo of a young oddly familiar man with blond hair and deep green eyes stared at him from a photo by your bed, yet he couldn’t quite place where he had seen the man before but something about it unsettled him. Shaking the feeling off he grabbed the book you had been reading and took a peek inside… you were right, it was nothing like the movie, he could barely push through the first few pages...such a dry read. “No thanks, not for me.” He said to himself before leaving the room for his own.

~ ~ ~ ~ 

Flashes of faces and gunfire haunted Bucky’s dreams as his subconscious recalled the painful days of his past, reminding him of the pain of the procedures. Violence and death were his lullaby until he woke up screaming. With a deep breath he checked the clock...2am...Wiping away a cold sweat from his brow he shuffled silently down to the kitchen to get a drink and settle his mind.

As he poured himself a glass of water he heard a soft beautiful singing voice echoing from the common room, 

Up where they walk

Up where they run

Up where they stay all day in the sun

Wanderin' free

Wish I could be

Part of that world

Following the voice he found you on the sofa in the same position they left you in earlier, as you watched the classic tail of a mermaid who wanted to be human. As the song ended you laid your head down on the arm of the sofa with a sigh. Atlantica might not be your home, but it was the closest depiction you've seen...the perfect balance between the capital Atlantis and your settlement community. It seemed to be helping with the homesickness. Water spurted from Bucky’s lips in shock as he checked to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. This was just too perfect! “So this is what you’re society is like? What does that make you? The sea witch?” Bucky asked with narrow eyes as he looked down to you. You picked your head up, turning to see your usual tormentor. Though he expected you to react with anger or an insult of your own all you did was lay back down, returning to your movie with an elongated sigh. “Hey blobfish I’m talking to you.”

“Go away Bucky. I’m not in the mood for this right now.” Was all you could muster. Did he finally break you? He didn’t know what to do with himself now...he had grown so used to the feud between the two of you what was there to do now?

The next morning you and Clint sat at the kitchen table sharing a pot of coffee. “I don't know man, maybe he's right. Maybe I should just go home.” You said with a moan as you played with the mug begging to be refilled in your hands. “I mean, I just don't fit in here.”

“What?!” He coughed as he nearly choked on the coffee. “No! You're a great addition to the team. Come on if there's room for a guy that shoots a bow and arrow then there's definitely room for someone with as many talents as you have.” He said encouragingly as he refilled both his cup and yours. “Don't let him get to you.”

“It's not just that. So much has changed in the last ten years.” You sighed. “I mean," you pulled the phone Tony had given you when you first arrived, “this...what even is this? When i left a cell phone had actual buttons!”

“Nah they're right there.” Clint said with a playful smirk as he pointed to the screen of the smartphone. You looked up to him with a half smile. “What's this really about?” He asked with a sigh before taking a gulp of his coffee.

You answered with a shrug as Steve walked in. “I don't know. I guess I just don't feel like I belong with the humans.” You let out another sigh. “Or the Atlanteans… or anywhere.”

“I understand where you're coming from.” Steve said as he entered the kitchen with an encouraging smile, reaching over you for the coffee. “During the war I had a hard time finding where I fit in too.” His lips pulled up into a charming smile. “It means you're special.” He clamped a hand on your shoulder, giving it a supportive squeeze. “I found embracing what makes you special tends to help.”

“And what makes you special is that you are the sea witch.” Bucky interjected as he walked in. “Maybe you'll feel better if you replace those fish with some eels.” He smiled to himself feeling content in the verbal jab.

“And what makes you special is that you are a one armed asshole.” You set your cup down before getting up out of the chair. “I don't need this.”

“Where are you going?” Clint asked curiously as he poured the discarded coffee into his cup.

“I don't know. Maybe I'll go pack.” You answered sullenly.

“Pack?!” Steve and Clint asked in alarmed unison. If they were to ever figure out what Hydra wanted with your colony they would need you.

“About damn time you go back to your pod...is it a pod? Or is it a school? Or a-” he was cut off by a rush of the dirty dish water from the sink flying into his face before you stormed off.

Steve stomped over to Bucky, shoving his old friend. “What the hell is wrong with you?” He demanded. “You're the reason she's leaving you know!” 

“Good! Stupid fish girl thinks she's better than all of us. Why are we not going up against Hydra so she can swim off?”

“Well pal if you have any idea where to start please speak up. Whatever Hydra wants with her colony we need to figure it out. We need her. But the way you are treating (y/n) is deplorable...You owe her an apology…. NOW!”

With a huff Bucky realized Steve was right...well...mostly right. They didn’t need you to figure out what Hydra wanted with the Atlanteans...He had a pretty good idea he knew what was going on there. It was staring everyone in the face. You are living proof that Human/Atlantean hybrids were extremely powerful, given the right conditions Hydra could breed themselves an army of super soldiers. But as much as he hated to admit it, if they were going to keep that from happening they would need you. No other human knew where Atlantis was, or any colony. If they found one you’d be the person to lead the team there and stop the attack. “Hey can we talk?” Bucky asked as he knocked on your door which swung open freely. You weren’t there, but it looked like all of your things still were. “Great.” He sighed before walking in. “Well, Flotsam, Jetsom, where did she go?” He jokingly asked the fish before turning to see the photo sitting on your nightstand, that same familiar man holding a you as a child. He half smiled seeing even then you had the streaks of blue in your hair. Twice now pictures of this man, obviously your father, haunted him. Something in the back of his mind told him he knew the man...but from where? He delicately took the picture, rubbing the glass with the flesh of his thumb as he squinted at it, trying to force a memory to rise to the surface. As he studied the photo he noticed a small houseboat in the background. “Oh shit...now I remember you…” He set the picture down before running off. 

He ran through the halls like a bat out of hell in search of the girl he was ordered to let get away all those years ago. Finally he saw a flash of blond and blue in the training room. He stopped taking a moment to realize he had no idea what he was  going to say to you. As he watched you working on your fighting skills somewhere in the back of his mind he wanted to admit that you were improving, maybe one day you’d be able to beat him without the element of surprise. The glint of his arm caught your attention, but you really couldn’t pay him any mind right now, you were too preoccupied with the debate of stay on land or go back to sea. Soon realizing he wasn’t leaving you let out a growl and drove your fist into the bag, ripping it open as it flew off the hook. “What now?” You asked flatly as you bent down to pick up the bag, tossing it into the pile of other broken punching bags...you’d think by now Tony would have invented them a better workout room. 

“I…” As he began to speak a flash of light caught the metal of your fish hook necklace, reminding him of your father he murdered, pulling him away from his train of thought. “The punching bags for those of us with super strength are in the closet.” He sighed as he walked in to install the stronger bag for you. You barely waited for the bag to hang before assaulting it, grunting and screaming as you punched and kicked. He let out a sigh, his long dark hair falling into his face as he rested his head against the back of the bag. “No...that’s not why I came in here.” He said to himself, forcing his pride aside for a moment. “(Y/n), can we talk?”

“Let me save you the trouble,” you said as you moved away from the bag, pulling the athletic tape from your knuckles and wrists, “I’m a stuck up fish. Mermaid joke. I’m a fish wearing a fish hook and it’s cannibalism when I eat sushi...Did I cover it?” You said sternly as your eyes narrowed to him.

“Actually I was going to say I’m sorry for the way I’ve been treating you. But if you’d rather...I can take you to the costume shop a few blocks away and get you a clamshell bra.” He sat on the free weight bench, “Do you realize how much you look like your great aunt Pearl? Once upon a time she was the love of my life...It shook me… Alot. And then you were ignoring me and that just got me more heated…” He let out a sigh, “But you are a valuable part of the team and I’m sorry for how I've been treating you.” You nodded before turning back to the bag and going back to blowing off steam. “I said I’m sorry.”

“I heard you.” You said between blows. “And?”

“And what? What do you want from me? Stand on my head and bark like a seal? I’m sorry goddamnit!” His brow scrunched as he grew more and more frustrated at this damn woman. 

“And you have so much more to apologize for!” You exclaimed with frustration.

His head dipped low, he was hoping he could avoid this part of the conversation. “Your father…” He trailed off, just not sure how to go about this. “(Y/n)...I don’t…” he trailed off again as he dug his fingers into his hair.

“Right.” You rolled your eyes and left the room, not in the mood for excuses, especially on a matter like your father.

As the door shut behind you Bucky rose, letting out a guttural scream, throwing one of the weights across the room. He wasn’t sure the last time he was so angry, but not at you...it wasn’t your fault. No, he had no one to be angry at other than himself now. 

~ ~ ~ ~

“(Y/n)!” Steve called out catching you as you stormed down the halls. “Did Bucky find you?” He asked as he joined you in your path. You watched him breath out a sigh of relief at your answer. “And did he apologize?”

“If you can call that an apology.” You answered folding your arms stubbornly over your chest causing Steve’s face to fold.

“(Y/n), would you mind if I asked what your deal is with him? I mean, Clint and Tony tease you all the time and you guys are best pals.”

As Steve asked your thoughts drifted back to your father. Your eyes softened as your fingers reached up to the hook that hung from your neck, choking back the threat of tears as you looked away. “When I was a teenager Hydra came around looking for me. I was walking proof  human and an Atlantean could crossbreed. But dad wouldn’t budge so they sent the Winter Soldier…” A tear trickled down your cheek as your thoughts dwelled on that horrible day. “Your friend killed my dad in front of me.”

“Oh (Y/n)...you really can’t…” He paused letting out an elongated sigh, giving his brain time to sort out how to say this. “Bucky wasn’t a willing Hydra agent. He was kidnapped and brainwashed. The Bucky you see today had about as much say in what he was doing as where my shoes choose to walk. Physically it might have been him, but there was someone else entirely in the driver’s seat.” Suddenly you felt a little guilty for holding it against him for so long. “And it’s never easy for him to apologize about what Hydra made him do. He never knows how to word it...if he should take the blame, if he should just blame them...Can you at least give him credit for trying?” You nodded, understanding what Steve was trying to say.