#Stop hurting the human Golden retriever challenge

[abbyholmes]

Oliver Stark just going ‚ehehehehe‘ and posting THAT picture on his Story is just…

He must know it will send the fandom into an even deeper frenzy, and I love him for it.

[ladylilithprime]

Gonna Make This Place Your Home

Series: Fluff Is My Jamstiel

Fandom: Supernatural: 

Pairing: Sastimmy/Jamstiel (Jimmy Novak/Sam Winchester/Castiel)

Rating: General to Teen and Up

Tags/Warnings: Witch Sam Winchester, Hunter Novak Brothers, Jimmy and Castiel Are Twins, Brief Allusions to Canon-Typical Violence, Cameo by Bobby Singer, Slow-Reveal Fluff, References to Azazel's Special Children

Summary: There aren't very many wholly positive types of annual events and remembrances in the life of a hunter, even a former hunter turned witch. Even some of the happiest moments in Sam Winchester's life have shadows of pain and fear attached to them. His lovers remind him that he has at least one more he can count to celebrate.

For: @fluffyfebruaryy challenge!

Prompt: Day 3: Anniversary

Read on AO3

IN THE LIFE of any hunter, and even for those who were no longer hunters but had been touched by the hunt often enough that they might as well be, there were very few types of marked and remembered days of things that were wholly, completely good. Even birthdays could be marred by a hunt gone wrong, either by death of an innocent or of a loved one or a friend or fellow hunter. Milestones like losing your virginity, graduating from high school, and getting accepted to college could just as easily be filled with dread and upset from the circumstances surrounding them, turning what should have been happy memories into bittersweet or outright painful weights within one's mind. And that was before counting up all the other memories that were never meant to be anything other than bad, the deaths and the betrayals and the sharp, biting losses that tore holes into your heart and took far too long to heal behind the sticking plaster of alcohol and avoidance.

Sam Winchester did not have many happy anniversaries to celebrate. Not his own birthday, for all Dean had tried to make it special for him, nor Dean's birthday which his brother forgot more often than he remembered, and on which both had suffered losses. He didn't celebrate getting into Stanford on a full ride scholarship since it meant he had to leave Dean behind to suffer their father's wrath when he found out, and then Sam ended up having to run for his life anyway when John Winchester had fired his gun directly at Sam in a drunken rage and Sam, terrified, had used his powers knowingly for the first time in front of his father to stop the bullet from hitting him. A small, bitter part of him still angry and crying for the unfairness of his life, wanted to celebrate when he got the news of John's death except for how much it hurt Dean, and how upset and angry his brother had still been when he had finally driven the Impala up to Sam's door and stumbled through into his arms and into his life to stay. Even that wasn't celebrated, because it wasn't safe to be reunited as Sam and Dean Winchester-- Sam had already been attending Stanford and setting up his life here as Sam Wesson to hide from John, and when the house next door gained a permanent resident and a covered carport for the Impala it was Dean Smith's name on the lease.

Instead, Sam celebrated the day when his familiar, a golden retriever he had named Bones for when they had met when both of them had been little more than skin and bones hiding in an abandoned house, had bonded fully enough with him to assume a human shape for the first time. He celebrated the closing on the block of land on which his and Dean's houses and his garden were built and nurtured, brought about in part by the mutual efforts of Sam and many of his friends back when the second house was meant to be more of a halfway house for other young people of Sam and Max's generation of kids with powers who needed a safe place to run when the demons came calling. While he didn't celebrate the day his brother had finally been free to join him out in California away from the active hunter's life, they both celebrated the day Dean made partner at the autobody shop, and the day Sam was finally able to open his own "specialty teas" shop with an extra stock of poultices, spell components, and protective charms for those "in the know". They celebrated the birth of Jessica and Max Moore's first and second children, Tylene and Samantha, without reservation, and it sometimes felt like Sam never actually stopped knitting something new for his goddaughters.

He did not celebrate the day that he first met his friends and later lovers, John Castiel and James Constantine Novak. He had still been reeling from the death of one of his first friends at Stanford due to pneumonia and complications from an allergic reaction to one of the ingredients in the tonic meant to cure it, and the Novak brothers had been the hunters who had seen the news story quoting Tyson Brady's mother as blaming "a witch" for his death and come to investigate the claim the day before Brady's funeral. Sam counted himself extremely lucky that they were the hunters who showed and that what they learned of him and the situation led them to let him live, to come to his door offering condolences on his loss and compliments on the energy of his garden.

He had been amazed when they had come back to see him again.

By the time he realized that the Novak brothers were definitely counted among his friends, and surprisingly close ones at that, he couldn't pin down an exact date when the shift happened. He could pin down the exact day when he realized that his feelings for them both were a bit more complicated than just friendship, but he hadn't actually told them how he felt. Even after sneaking the sweaters he had knitted for them and embroidered with protective runes into their clean laundry and they came back from three weeks on the road, bruised and a little bloody but wearing the sweaters and beaming smiles, the words had been implied but left unspoken.

The day they all three got together was simultaneously one of the best and worst days of Sam's life, finding out that the two men he had fallen in love with both loved him back the same day that they had almost lost Jimmy to another hunter's bullet. Never had Sam been so close to breaking the rule he had set for himself when he left the hunt to never kill another person, to never again take a sentient life that could be saved, as he was that night. He knew Cas had felt the same way from how the usually more stoic twin had come down on the self-righteous idiots like an avenging angel, and how pale he had been as they sat in the waiting room of the hospital while Jimmy was in surgery, how tightly he had gripped Sam's hand as they waited for news.

The incident had also brought Sam back into contact with Bobby Singer, which had also been rather fraught with emotions on both sides. Bobby had been relieved to find out that Sam and Dean were both still alive, and absolutely furious to find out that Sam had been attacked by hunters. Learning that it wasn't even close to the first time had sent him on a five minute long rant of profanities. Finding out that Jimmy was in the hospital because he had taken the bullet intended for Sam had gotten the older man on the next plane to Palo Alto. Sam wasn't there for the reunion between Bobby and Dean, being unable to tear himself away from Jimmy and Cas long enough to pick the older man up from the airport in San Jose, but if it was anything like his own then it was no wonder his frequently emotionally constipated brother had been so quiet, and while Sam was glad to be back in contact with one of the few positive father figures from his childhood there was still a distance, real or imagined, that kept Sam at arm's length.

He still knit the man three pairs of socks with protective runes and mailed them off to the post office box in Lebanon, Kansas, to never be spoken of again.

So it was something of a surprise for Sam to come home from the shop, Bones cheerfully trotting at his side, to find his lovers in the kitchen with what looked like the makings of a romantic dinner for three-plus-dog. They were quick to adapt to the apparently unexpected early appearance of the more gainfully employed members of the household. Cas dropped to one knee to greet Bones first which let Jimmy come forward to kiss Sam hello first, and then they switched, and Sam had to stifle a laugh at the taste of honey on Cas's lips.

"What's the occasion, gentlemen?" he asked when greetings had been carried out, because as much as he loved them both neither Jimmy nor Cas was particularly gifted in the kitchen, though they had gotten better in the months since they had convinced Sam to let them help him cook.

"Well," Cas began, exchanging a glance with Jimmy, "we were thinking earlier and we realized--"

"Cas realized," Jimmy broke in with a wry little grin.

"--that it's been a year today since the first time we showed up on your doorstep--"

"--without calling ahead--"

"--and you asked us why we didn't just let ourselves in with the spare key and make ourselves at home," Cas finished, bushing and averting his eyes the way he did when he was feeling too much and didn't fully know how to express it.

"It was the first time we realized that you really wanted us here," Jimmy murmured, filling in the gaps for his brother as he did. "That you thought of your home as our home, too. That we have a home here with you. That--" He broke off and ducked his head with his own blushing, semi-bashful grin. "I guess you probably know better than most how much that means to us."

"Yeah," Sam answered around the lump forming in his throat. He reached out to them both, drawing them together into his arms and just holding them for a moment, smiling softly when even the more fidgety Jimmy just let himself be held. Oh, yes, he knew how much it meant for a migrant hunter to find someplace he could call home.

It was definitely an anniversary worth celebrating.

[warmblanketwhump]

safe enough to fall

a little university-themed thing I wrote using @sicktember prompts: comfort item, sneaky temperature check, medicine, unlikely caregiver, and lightly inspired by these prompts

the grip of the winter’s cold was their constant, unrelenting companion - but sometimes, B just wished it would be a little less faithful.

It doesn’t ease in the morning, when B wakes up coughing with a cold nose and stiff limbs. It stays as B shivers through the lukewarm shower and the hurried layering of clothes over damp, goosebumped skin. It sticks to them like cling wrap on the bus, in the lecture hall, the windy walk to their next class, makes them tense their rattling jaw, and leaves them hunched over and huddled up, desperate to conserve any scrap of heat.

This was a fact of their university existence - that after the pleasant crispness of fall, their poor, scholarship-funded body was plunged into four months of frozen hell. They didn’t like to complain - after all, they were getting a free education. But no one told them how brutal their university’s winters would be, nor that dorm heating was little more than a few puffs of warm air every hour, or that regardless of how many layers they pulled on, they’d be chilled to the bone until late March.

Their final class of the week is in a drafty science lab, and they hold back a groan. The cold's not the only source of their dread - it was the thought of spending 90 minutes with their perky, overly friendly lab partner, A.

A, whose parents were well-off, well-known benefactors of their university. A, who lived in a nice house with proper heating and had the money for a warm winter coat. A, who obliviously chattered on about anything and everything. Besides that, they were just so...happy. All the time.

The can afford to be, B thought miserably. There was no way all that sunshine could be real.

B really tried to tamp down their bitterness, but it was hard to listen to someone gush on about their amazing weekend their family spent on some tropical island when B spent the same weekend wrapped up in blankets, trying to stay warm enough to study their nomenclature notes.

Two minutes before class, A bounds into the lab like a freed golden retriever and begins their usual volley of caffeinated questions, which B responds to in short, clipped answers. Suddenly, the questions stop and A’s brows furrow.

“You look cold. Are you okay?”

B shifts on their stool and tucks their fingers into the sleeves of their worn secondhand coat, pulling it tighter with a shudder. “I am cold. It’s winter.” They cough weakly into their elbow - the nagging cough has gripped them for weeks now.

“Are you sick?”

Direct, then. That was new. “No. At least, I don’t think so. I don’t have a fever or anything.” In truth, they had been feeling a little lower than usual the past couple of days, the chill a little deeper, the aches more pronounced, the cough a bit more painful. But in their book, that was hardly enough call themselves sick. B sniffles and A opens their mouth to comment further, but the professor calls the class to attention, and the moment is gone.

90 minutes later, they’ve got their work cut out for them - a ten-page lab report that’s going to count for nearly a quarter of their final grade. And as luck would have it, it was a partner project, which meant B got to spend more time with the equivalent of human rocket fuel.

“So...do you want to just knock this out tonight?” A's eyes dart around nervously.

B frowns - it’s almost the weekend, and they figured A would have plans with friends this evening. But B sure doesn’t have anything going on., so they don’t protest. “No… I s’pose we should get as much done as possible while it’s still fresh. Want to go to the library?”

“Ugh." A cringes. "Do we have to? That place is like a tomb.”

B huffs indignantly. “It's not that bad," they mumble in a weak defense of their favorite study spot. A shoots them a glare, and B rolls their eyes. "Do you have somewhere better? It's Friday, so most places are closing up.”

“Well, my parents decided to go on some last-minute ski trip to the Alps again, so my place is free," A says as they step out into the biting wind. "Plus, I have a ton of food and it's actually warm in there, unlike these buildings.”

The promise of decent heating and food that wasn't from the dining hall was enough for B. "Fine. Your place." The pair trudge through the bitter wind as the sun begins to set, and soon they arrive at A's parents’ home - a beautiful, winding estate just a couple minutes away from campus. B has to bite their lip to keep their jaw off the ground - in the blustering snow, this place looks straight out of a Christmas card. Another reminder of how they don’t fit in this world.

Will you stop? B chastises themselves. A having money isn't a personal attack on you. Just enjoy the free food, finish the assignment and get over it.

Despite the towering exterior, B's house was quite cozy, colored in warm neutrals and filled with soft, comfortable furniture. Just past the mudroom, they spot a big living room filled with with an enormous overstuffed couch, squashy-looking pillows, and soft throw blankets. Everything about this place screams warm. A rubs their arms, suddenly aware of how cold they are. The heat nearly makes them dizzy, and they can feel the temperature difference as it seeps into their cold skin.

"Want some cocoa?" A tosses their bag into the corner and heads for an electric kettle in the kitchen, and B follows. "It always helps me warm up." B nods. A couple minutes later, A pushes over a steaming mug with the top entirely covered in marshmallows.

B wraps their chilled fingers around the mug and takes a sip, and the warm, rich liquid feels like heaven to their cold body. "That's amazing."

A smiles. "It's the good stuff." They sip in a surprising silence for a few moments, before A sighs in resignation. "As much as I wish this was just a social call, this report isn't gonna write itself." They grab a bag of popcorn and nod their head toward the living room, and B follows dutifully. A flicks on the gas fireplace and tosses B a throw blanket, and the pair gets to work.

------------------------------

After a couple hours of studying, three instances of indignantly thrown popcorn, and a dramatic reading of the periodic table, B realized that they may have misjudged A. Deep down, under the bubbly exterior, A was a genuinely kind, sweet person. It wasn't an act - they just were human sunshine. And the longer they spent time with them, the more B realized they didn't mind their company at all.

"Alright." A drops their pencil and rubs their eyes. "If I have to balance one more equation, my brain's gonna explode. Study break time." A flips on the TV and puts the volume on low.

B leans their head back on the couch and pulls their throw blanket to their chin, trying to ward off the shivery feeling in their core. Despite the heat of the fire, the mug of hot chocolate, and the thick blanket, they just can’t seem to get warm.

Their face feels hot, but their blood feels chilled and heavy, the weight of it making them ache deep down in their bones. B wraps their arms around their knees, trying to rub away the throbbing pain and get some warmth into their skin. They glance out the picture window at the now-blowing snow. It's gonna be a miserable walk home.

"B, you're shivering." A's turning to look at them now.

B startles. "It's-It's nothing. Just a chill." The concern in A's voice triggers their flight response. "I....I should probably get back to the dorms. It’s late–" They're cut off with a hacking cough that leaves them breathless and they wince at the ache in their chest.

"B, it's snowing, and you haven't even had dinner-"

"Where's my jacket?" They push themselves up and toss the throw blanket off, instantly regretting it as the air invades their pocket of hard fought warmth. They’re trembling and dizzy and desperately freezing, but they cannot stay here. Then, the world tilts and they fall back on to the couch. For a moment, they're just laying in an icy, spinning world, trying to catch their breath, when warmth suddenly envelops them.

A's tucking the same thick grey blanket around their shivering form. As they pull away, their hand lightly brushes over B's neck, then freezes. B twists away from the gentle touch, but it’s too late. Realization floods over A's face. Caught. "You lied. You are sick."

B groans, even as their fingers weave into the chunky knit and pull the warm layer closer. "A, please. Just let me go home. I'm probably contagious. You don't want me here."

"B, you look like death warmed over. I'm not sending you out in a blizzard when you're feverish like this. I won't do it." There's a spark in their eyes and a set to A's jaw that dares B to challenge them.

B leans back, defeated. Even though they want nothing more than to run out of this room, they're too weak to stand and too cold to move. So here they'll stay.

It's okay. Someone's here. You can give in now.

No. I can't. I can't let them see me like this.

What choice do you have? You already look awful. Let them help you.

A covers them with another blanket and places a gentle hand on their back, rubbing slowly. The firelight flickers, casting light and shadow across their solemn face. “B. Tell me what you're feeling, and I'll get you what you need.”

B swallows down the rising panic, the helpless vulnerability they feel, and takes a shallow, shaky breath. “I…I guess I just feel….not right. I’m always cold...but it's...worse.” They sniffle weakly, trying to still and order their swirling thoughts. “Chills, fever, cough, sore throat, kinda stuffed up. And it just hurts everywhere.”

A nods slowly, then leaves the room. They return in a few minutes with a few small bottles, carefully scanning the labels and holding them up for B to see.

“Can you take this? Any problems with this one?” B had to take a moment and match the brand names with their usual knockoff brands, but soon they had a couple over the counter medicines picked out, along with something for their cough.

A glances at the medicine labels once more. "This one says to take with food. I've got some leftover chicken and dumpling soup I can heat up - does that sound okay?"

B nods almost imperceptibly. "Sounds wonderful." A gets up to heat the soup, and B feels the anxiety rising in their stomach when they're not in the room with them. A returns with a mug and manages to gently spoon a few sips of broth into B's mouth before B starts falling asleep, clutching the grey blanket even tighter to their shoulders.

A smiles sadly. “That blanket's my favorite whenever I'm not feeling good. It's the best thing you could have to fight off what you’ve got. Trust me.”

B curls into the soft fabric. It was as if the warm environment of the apartment and the comfort of the blanket had been a signal that it was safe to leave survival mode, rest for a moment, open the floodgates that had been holding back whatever had been ailing them for weeks.

After B takes their medicine, A’s eyes shift awkwardly around the room. “So….when you’re sick, do you like having someone with you? Or do you want to be by yourself?”

A sudden rush of emotion crashes over B. They’d so rarely had the choice. It takes all they’ve got not to throw themselves around A and beg them not to leave. “Stay, please,” they ask in a small, trembling voice. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

A smiles halfway and gently pats B’s leg. “Seeing as how I live here, I don’t think that’ll be a problem.” They take their spot at the end of the couch and pull B’s legs over their own, flicking the TV to a familiar movie. B tries to keep up with the plot, but they keep falling in and out of a fitful, restless sleep, tossing, turning, unable to get comfortable enough.

When B’s about ready to cry from exhaustion, A’s there, covering them up with another blanket, bringing them a glass of water, gently stroking the damp hair off their forehead before laying a cold cloth over it. They flinch at first, but the cool dampness eases the fire of their fever, even for just a moment. The last thing B remembers before falling unconscious is a gentle hand squeezing theirs.

It could be minutes or hours later when they jolt awake from a fever dream in a cold sweat, choking and coughing. They’ve kicked off their blankets and the cloth is nowhere to be found, but the chills are back in full force. A appears in B’s blurred vision, hand held to B’s forehead. “Poor thing. Your fever’s worse,” they murmur.

B’s still gasping for breath, curled up in the fetal position, body wracked by the shakes as they try force the words through their chattering teeth. “A...It's so cold. I’m so scared.”

If B was more lucid, they’d see something in A’s eyes crack wide open at their weak, fearful cries. A pulls the trusted grey blanket from the floor and wraps it back around B, rubbing their arms to try and make them feel warmer. There's something in the tenderness of the gesture, and B’s panicked gasps turn into soft, quiet sobs. They try and cover their face with one hand, but A’s hand is there, catching their wrist and wiping the tears away with their thumb.

“Hey. You’re gonna be okay. We just gotta get through tonight, alright?” A’s voice matches their usual cheery demeanor, but B can see the fear in their own eyes. They don’t know what they’re doing either.

“Why are you helping me?” B whispers in a tear-roughened voice.

A shrugs. "You're sick. You need help. Is it that so surprising?"

B's eyes flash a delirious spark. "You don't get it. I'm a broke scholarship student. I'm nothing like you. I'm not fun, or bubbly, or rich, or any of those things you are, and I don't fit in here. So why?"

B can't stop the words now, every single insecurity laid bare. "Why do you try to talk to me when I'm nothing but rude to you? Why'd you invite me here? Am I just a project to you? Why are you helping me? I'm not worth it!" The words spill out before B can stop them, and the raw hurt in A's eyes nearly rips B's heart out of their chest.

B claps their hand over their mouth, tears flooding their eyes. Now they've done it. They've laid it all out there. A's gonna kick them to the curb. And B won't blame them one bit.

But instead, A just looks at them, and pulls B into a hug. Their voice wavers only a bit as they whisper in B's ear: "You're not a project. You are completely worth being cared for. And you’re not the only one who knows what it feels like to not fit somewhere. Trust me.”

Alone. In a big, empty house. Studying on a Friday night. No plans of their own.

A, are you lonely, too?

Their words are so simple.

And yet they're everything B didn't know they needed to hear. A's got one arm around their shoulders, and one hand threaded through their sweaty, fever-damp hair, and they're cradling B so tightly it’s like they're the one who needs to be held.

B can't find the words to apologize or comfort them back. They're too tired for that. But they wrap their other arm around A and let their head rest on their shoulder. They stay like that for ages until their head begins to drop, and A shifts so they’re both laying down, B curled against A, A’s arm wrapped around their shoulders as they tuck a blanket around them both.

And finally, finally, B lets go. It's safe to fall, this time around. Because for the first time, there's someone there to catch them.

[ayamturd]

hiss│tommyinnit

summary: tommy comes across an injured, unknown being and tries to help; he’s intrigued, to say the least, about you

warnings: injury and blood descriptions, slight spoiler for dsmp, small angst to fluff (?)

pairing: (requested) in-game c!tommyinnit

a/n: this was honestly a challenging ask, so i tried to keep it as vague as possible as to leave more room for imagination. pls give feedback and any friendly criticism!

also i wrote this as gn! to be more inclusive since undisclosed :)

wc: (1.2k) - m.list

“H-hello?”

It had been a nice day out, the sun shining above to cast over the growing landscape. In spite of the devastation of the war that raged on mere days ago, slowly but surely, time began to move on once more. 

Searching through the wreckage of what L’manberg once was, Tommy had been dragging his most recent salvage when he found a trail of what looked to be a dark liquid. The glistening pool was a deep shade of purple, its hue practically glowing in its separate droplets scattered on the ground, over the prime path. 

He had become easily distracted and attempted to follow its path, finding its course to become thicker in its steady amount until winding himself in near the edge of the dark woods forest. As he approached what looked to be a handprint stain against an old trunk, a branch snapped from above him. 

Squinting to spot anything through the heavy shading of the over branching leaves, Tommy called out to them once more, his curiosity getting the better of him.

A sudden twig fell, and with that an entire person. 

Groaning, you were pathetically sprawled out on the soft, green grass with your head bowed down, your back arched as if you were in pain. 

Tommy had jumped back when you initially fell, but by your expression, you seemed defenseless and were in no state to attack. He cautiously stepped forward towards you with his hands out, reluctant to help. 

“Are you alright?”

Snapping your head up, Tommy shrieked in surprise when you hissed at him, your eyes an eccentric white that were both pale yet striking. While he lived in a world were hybrids existed, he was shocked to see the different pigments that colored your skin, something he had never seen before. 

Like scales that radiated in the sunlight, the light markings delicately bordered your eyes and features, outreaching from the hairline and encompassing your face angelically. Beyond that, he quickly noted how young you seemed, your characteristics youthful and seemingly younger than him. 

To say the least, Tommy was in awe of observing your attributes and struggled to say something for once. 

He was close to stating how he was no longer the youngest on the smp, but lost his voice once seeing your clear injury, hand hovering over the stain that tore through your outer layer coat. The trail he was following was your blood, he realized. 

“Shit.”

You tilted your head, intrigued by his language, but continued to glare at him defensively and started to crawl a distance away from him, eyes trained on him. Tommy reacted quickly to your scooting, fearful for your own sake that you could injure yourself more.

“Wait! Fuck, don’t- don’t do that.”

Freezing from his yell, you paused with wide eyes from his unexpected outburst, and closed in on yourself further with narrowed eyes. Sighing with a rub to his head, Tommy glanced around him for something he could do. 

“Just- just, here,” Tommy stammered. Slowly, he crouched in front of you with his hands held outward, steady eye contact to gain your trust. Although you hissed when he attempted to approach, you did not move when he continued to come closer.

By the time he sat barely a few feet away from you, you were calmer and didn’t react harshly as he pointed to the clear injury on your lower abdomen.  

“Can I…?”

Hesitantly, he gently pulled your hands away, grasping your wrists when allowing him to inspect the wound. By the looks of it, you clothes looked burned in the surrounding area as the gash itself was caused by something puncturing your skin. 

He winced when coming to the conclusion you were affected the most recent doomsday, and that a heated projectile must have stabbed you during the explosions. With the amount of ‘blood’ and how large the cut seemed, he also figured you must have pulled the object out on your own. 

In all honestly, he was perplexed on how you could survive such damage for days on end considering how fresh the wound still seemed to present itself. Moving to cover it with your coat, he pulled his satchel forward to find something to help. 

Your eyes widened from his unanticipated actions, and Tommy immediately noticed and tried to reassure you as you reacted. 

“Hey, hey hey hey, stop.” Freezing once more to his fast words, he breathed out to gather himself. “I’m not going to hurt you, I want to try and help.”

More slowly, he brought the bag in your vantage point and dug through it while continuous looking up at you, internally cheering when he found what he needed. 

With one of the last golden apples he was able to steal retrieve from Technoblade, he offered it to you with a small vial of his regeneration potion in his other hand. You looked between the two items, before staring at him. 

Like am encountered hurt animal, your defense facade faded as your true vulnerability and fear came through; you were weak and could only do so much against him injured. 

Tommy chewed the inner side of his cheek and sighed again, pushing them closer to you considering your resistance.  

“I’m only trynna help. Please, just take it.”

He nodded at you when you lifted your hands out to take it, and was patient with your measured speed before you snatched it out of his hands briskly. 

Sniffing the enhanced fruit, you bit into it swiftly and began to devour it while simultaneously drinking from the potion still in hand. He chuckled from your assumed hunger, and rubbed the back of his head in relief at knowing you knew what to do with the potion at least.

“You have a name?” he asked. You continued to eat as if you didn’t hear him, and Tommy crossed his legs and plopped down with his palm against his cheek in thought. “Can you even understand me?” he murmured. 

You paused abruptly, and turned your head to him with a most neutral expression he’d seen so far. Least it was better than your hissing. 

Staring at him for a few stand alone moments, he shifted his eyes when he could no longer match your intense gaze, almost missing your quiet voice.  

“Y/n.”

It was his turn to snap his head up in surprise as he didn’t expect you to suddenly talk, no matter if he could understand it or not. Unconsciously leaning forward in expectation, he furrowed his eye brows in question. 

“What?”

“Y/n,” you restated. Pointing to yourself, you continued your stare without breaking eye contact in the slightest, your eyes almost enamored with the sight of him. 

“I am Y/n.” Tommy grinned brightly from your introduction, raising his hand to shake without thinking of whether or not you understood. You instead grabbed one of his fingers with your entire hand, holding it tightly in an affectionate response. 

He laughed loudly from your endearing cluelessness. 

“Hello y/n. I’m Tommy.”

[delaber]

Three-Point Perspective (Part 2)

Rafael Casal x Reader x Daveed Diggs

Note: Guys! When I wrote Three-Point Perspective, I wasn’t planning on adding a second part to it but the amount of support was so overwhelming that I just had to do a sequel ...And let me tell you; I am so glad you guys wanted it because this was so much fun! I have never been more challenged with a story-line, portraying emotions, changing perspectives, and just the plot in general. I have never never never changed a story-line as much as I did for this one, haha! Crazy amounts of shout-outs and thanks to my amazing mate @einfachniemand​ for listening to countless of ideas, for feedback on several snippets, for being supportive af, and for telling me “yeah, no, that doesn’t work. Back to the drawing board.” Thank you boo! You are amazing! A huge thanks to @theatrenerd86​ for starting off this sequel by providing the settings - and for just being the most supportive human being ever! Mwah! Also a huge thanks to the rest of you for your endless support! I love this community! (Oh, and anon; thanks for the (quite old, sorry) prompt but I didn’t do it for Rafa (sorry once again)). Let me know what you guys think!

Words: 13.8K

Warnings: Oh my goodness, I don’t even wanna get started... Blood, heartbreak, angst (my three tropes)

Rafael

Rafa almost tripped over his own two feet as he stumbled over to the bar and desperately ordered a large whiskey shooter. He was having a hard time keeping calm; his heart was beating fast in his chest, his throat closing in on itself, his hairline soaked in panic-sweat. He needed to put what had just happened in the very seat he was standing in front of at a distance. His hands were still itching to punch something! He needed the fucking drink!

The bartender had barely stopped pouring Maker's Mark into a small glass before Rafa quickly grabbed it and chugged its contents down his throat, desperately trying to block out what he had just witnessed.

Your tongue in his best friend's ear.

Diggs' hand sliding up your thigh.

The sensual smile you'd worn as Diggs had whispered promising words in your ear.

"Oh god," Rafa groaned as he recalled your excited smile as his best friend had escorted you out of the bar, his hand dipping uncomfortably low on your hips.

Desperately clutching the now empty whiskey glass, Rafa tried relentlessly to push away the image of what you and Diggs probably were in the midst of doing right now. Oh shit, oh no... His chest was stinging, his stomach aching horribly at the thought of you and Diggs fucking. Oh god. He tried to shift his focus to the burning sensation down his esophagus instead and quickly ordered another shooter.

It didn't take long before the bartender had placed another glass of golden-brown liquid in front of him that he quickly downed in one go, thinking about how stupid he was for not having acted on his feelings for you earlier. He had had eight fucking years to do so after all?! Why the fuck hadn't he just pulled himself together and called you up?! He wanted to punch something! He wanted to get fucked up! He wanted to call someone and get them to deliver a big fucking bag of blow - but he settled on a third shooter.

He gulped down the whiskey as the aggression subsided and was replaced by the same type of jealousy-induced heartburn that he had felt earlier that night. Fucking Daveed Diggs and the way he always seemed to be able to wrap women around his little finger! In eight minutes, he had managed to do to you what Rafa hadn't managed to do for eight years. Fuck him!

A fourth whiskey went down Rafa's throat as the jealousy was replaced by hurtful pangs in his chest; shit it hurt to think about you and Diggs together. Rafa knew that you had had a few men in your life since the summer in the taco truck, and even though it had stung to see pictures of your romances on Instagram, it didn't hurt half as much as seeing his best friend escort you out of the bar.

He ordered another whiskey. And another one after that. And then an entire bottle of Jameson just to recall the taste of your lips that night on top of the skate ramps all those years ago. Quickly, Rafa gulped down most of the bottle, his eyes watering from the sharp taste of alcohol on his tongue, but no matter how much he drank, he still wasn't able to get image of you and Diggs out of his head. It had etched itself on the back of his eyelids, somehow becoming clearer and clearer with every gulp of fiery liquid.

It didn't take long before he had reached the half-way mark on the bottle of Jameson, completely lost in constantly checking his phone to see if you had tried to contact him to tell him that Diggs by some miracle had blown his shot. You hadn't. And even though Rafa doubted that you would, he still couldn't put the phone away.

He was fumbling about on the screen as he accidentally found Diggs' name on the list of contacts. Completely lost in contemplating whether or not he should call him up and tell him to stay the fuck away from you, he jumped a little when he suddenly felt a soft hand on his shoulder. For about a mili-second, Rafa believed that the soft touch belonged to you, but as soon as he had whipped around in his seat, he felt the disappointment cloud his mind as he was met by his make-up artist Janelle instead. "Oh, hey," he spoke in an uninterested tone of voice, his words a little slurred from the amount of whiskey he'd been drinking.

"Rafa, honey, are you okay?" She looked at him with kind eyes, "you seem a little out of it."

"I'm great," he slurred into his whiskey glass before emptying it for what felt like the 100th time that night, "I'm fucking perfect! This night's just absolutely fucking perfect."

Janelle furrowed her brows and pushed the bottle of Jameson out of Rafa's reach, "is it because of Daveed and -"

"- DON'T say her name," Rafa warned, his voice turning to a low drunk growl afterwards, "I don't want to think about it."

Janelle sat down on the empty barstool next to him and sent him a slow nod, "yeah, I was afraid this might happen..." she sighed and sent him a pitiful look.

"That what might happen?" Rafa drunkenly mumbled, trying to avoid her gaze.

"Honey... I've seen the way you look at her," Janelle whispered and reassuringly put her hand on Rafa's arm as she searched his face for any kind of affirmation. Rafa groaned and met her eyes shortly before she softly added, "- and I've seen the way Daveed looks at her too."

Rafa gulped to keep the slowly forming lump in this throat at bay, "...so you don't think it's just a one-night thing?" He croaked in a small whisper, the pain in his chest suddenly twice as hurtful as before.

Janelle shook her head slowly, shooting Rafa a careful look.

"And - uhm," Rafa cleared his throat "- do you think that - uh - she's into him as well?" He added in a whisper, his face involuntarily screwed up as he was afraid to hear the answer.

"I don't know, honey," Janelle said diplomatically and pulled him in for a tight hug, inaudibly giving away that she definitely thought so. Rafa appreciated Janelle's attempt to salvage the situation and let her comfort him for a couple of seconds before she slowly let go of him again, sending him a heartfelt look in the process. "Do you want to talk about it?" She asked.

"No..." Rafa mumbled and reached for the bottle that Janelle had pushed away moments before.

She grabbed his arm and forced it down in his lap instead, "why don't you leave the bottle and instead call it a night, boo? You've been drinking quite a lot already."

Rafa gulped a little and realised that she was right. Nothing good would come from sitting at the bar, drowning his sorrows in cheap whiskey. "Yeah," he groaned as he ran a hand through his damp hair, "yeah... You're right. Might be a good idea..."

"Go grab your jacket. I'll call you a cab, okay?"

"Thanks," Rafa mumbled before scrambling to his feet, swaying a little from side to side. He managed to balance himself and stagger over to the coat check where he retrieved his leather jacket and slowly pulled it on with great difficulty.

"I got you," Janelle was suddenly behind him, helping him pull the jacket up his arms.

"Thanks," Rafa mumbled as he pulled on the collar to rearrange the leather over his shoulders.

"You wanna say bye to the rest of the crew?" Janelle piped from behind him.

He shot a quick glance across the room and towards the table that his friends were occupying. "I better set an example," he mumbled even though he'd rather be sitting in a cab on his way home right now.

With his arm around Janelle, and her hand on his chest to steady him, Rafa walked over to his co-stars, putting up his best attempt at a cheerful smile, "I'm off guys. Have a lovely evening," he slurred drunkenly.

He thought to himself that he was doing a tremendous job of hiding away his hurt feelings until he noticed their stiff smiles. Suddenly, he realised by the sympathetic looks they were all shooting him from their seats, that they were well-aware of what was going on. Rafa quickly scanned their silent, pained faces one by one until Alessandro - one of the leads - finally spoke up, "see you Monday boss!"

Annoyed with their pitiful eyes, Rafa mumbled a, "see you Monday, bruh," and turned around, facing Janelle again as the others awkwardly looked away. It made him feel stupid.

"Cab's outside," Janelle tried to smile and pulled him in for a hug, "are you going to be okay, boo?"

"I don't know," Rafa croaked truthfully against her neck and let her pull him just a little closer.

"Call me tomorrow, okay?" She let go of him, "We'll do something fun."

"Okay," Rafa slurred, his eyes stinging as he turned away from her and towards the exit.

Slowly, he stumbled out of the bar and hopped into the yellow cab outside, closing his eyes desperately in the backseat, trying to block out any thought of you and Diggs but failing horribly. The ride home was the longest drive of Rafa's life, his thoughts sporadic and unorganised but all centred around the same thing: what would he come home to? Had you and Diggs gone to your place? Or to Diggs' place that he just happened to share with Rafa? Fuck, he almost couldn't bear the thought of coming home to meet Diggs balls deep in you on the couch. Rafa would never purposely punch Diggs, but if he came home to face that, he wasn't sure he'd be able to hold back his itching fist.

"He's your best friend," Rafa mumbled to himself as a reminder, hoping to calm himself down, "he's your best friend. He didn't know. He's innocent... - well apart from fucking your girl..."

Everything inside him was on fire.

"You alright back there, mate?" The cab driver shot Rafa a look in the rear-view mirror, apparently concerned about the whispered words, he'd heard coming from the backseat.

"Yeah," Rafa replied unenthusiastically, a little annoyed that everybody seemed to be so concerned with him - but he eventually stopped thinking out loud.

For the remainder of the trip, the driver kept his mouth shut too but annoyingly enough constantly checked in on Rafa in the rear-view mirror.

Rafa was relieved when the driver finally pulled over outside his home and paid him quickly, slamming the car door shut with much force, hoping to alleviate some of the all-consuming itch that he felt deep in his bones. Little did it help. He still wanted to punch something.

Rafa turned his attention towards the house and gave out a short sigh before he started swaying up the paved pathway in the small yard, briefly stopping before he reached the front door. He prayed that you had taken Diggs to your place and not the other way around. He couldn't handle being faced with his worst nightmare - and especially not after having had so much to drink. Right now, he couldn't account for how he'd react.

He stood with his key in hand for a while, scared of what might come, but eventually realised that he would have to go inside at some point. With a deep sigh, he slowly slid his key in the lock and turned it around, his palms sweating terribly. He felt his heart sinking down to the bottom of his stomach when the key didn't meet any kind of resistance, and he realised that the door was already unlocked.

Fuck... Diggs had taken you here.

With a burning sensation in his chest, Rafa quietly pushed open the front door and stepped inside the small hallway, closing the door behind him with a small thump. He closed his eyes and threw his head up against the wooden door, forcing himself to relax by taking three deep breaths - a technique he had learned from his mother when he had been nervous about doing spoken words for the first time at fifteen.

He focused on his breathing for a few seconds and after having exhaled a third time - already more relaxed than before - he opened his eyes and took in the room. He immediately saw that the floor of the narrow hallway was decorated with several pieces of discarded garments strewn randomly about on the stone floor.

Diggs' pants. Your dress. Your bra.

"No..." Rafa groaned quietly as he took in the pieces of clothes with a hard gulp, the tears stinging in his eyes when he realised what he was being confronted with. "No, no, no!" he buried his face in his hands and took a deep breath to get himself under control again. His entire chest was on fire, the taste of stomach acid thick on his tongue. Everything around him went quiet as he heaved in a big gulp of air, wishing that he had stayed sober tonight. This was all getting too much; he couldn't control it. He was too drunk.

He took another big gulp of air, and was just about to slowly exhale when a soft sound hit his ear canal... It was coming from the other room.

A moan.

A sweet, heartfelt, sensual moan.

From a woman - from you...

It was the result of a sincere reaction to something that had brought you immense pleasure. A moan that someone else had brought to your lips. A moan that Rafa's best friend had brought to your lips.

Fuck! The itch in his hands that he had felt for quite some time now suddenly became too much and he punched the wall hard, causing an old, framed picture of him and Diggs to fall down, the frame shattering in several pieces on the cold stone floor. He stared at the broken shards of glass for a few seconds, torturing himself by carefully listening for more of your sweet moans echoing throughout the house.

They didn't come, however. The entire house was suddenly completely silent. Thank god.

Slowly, Rafa squatted down to brush the glass-dust off your dress, the silky fabric soft between his fingertips as he pulled the dress to his chest, thinking about what it would feel like to be the one to pull it off you.

Without warning, however, the silence in the hallway was broken by another loud moan coming from Diggs' personal space and Rafa was quickly brought out of his trance. He had to get out of there! He would go to a hotel or something! Anything to get away from the sounds you were making for another man!

Slightly panicked, Rafa shuffled to get to his feet, but overbalanced and fell forwards, his left hand immediately softening the blow as a reflex. From the moment his palm hit the floor, Rafa felt a sharp pain in his hand, but didn't realise that he had cut himself before he rotated his elbow and saw the huge piece of broken glass that was prodding out of his palm. "You're kidding me," he groaned as he tried to focus on the glass shard before he grabbed it tightly and forcefully pulled it out of his skin, the warm blood immediately running down his hand as a terribly sharp pain started pulling at his fingers. "OH FUCK!" he exclaimed a little louder than he had intended to, unable to hold back in his inebriated state.

Pressing in on the wound to try and get it to stop bleeding, he hurried to the bathroom and quickly located an old towel that he wrapped tightly around his bloody hand. "Shit! Oh fuck that hurts!" He groaned loudly and slid down the wall, his ass hitting the cold floor with a small thump. He could hear hushed voices coming from Diggs' personal space next door, and he realised that he had no idea what hurt the most; the thought of you lying in there wearing nothing but your panties, or his throbbing hand that had already bled through the old towel.

"Shit," he mumbled to himself as he replaced the old piece of cloth with a clean one, "ah fuck it hurts!" He hissed and tried to push the wound shut to get it to stop bleeding. It helped for a few seconds before the gash opened back up, fresh blood spilling out again. Just looking at it made him dizzy, and he realised that he couldn't handle this on his own. He was too drunk. He needed help. Embarrassed by himself and the situation he had put himself in, he took a deep breath before calling out the name of the last person on earth he wanted to see right now, "DIGGS!"

The hushed voices from the other side of the wall died down completely. They'd heard him. Still, there was no response to his cry for help. Meanwhile, the second towel around his hand was soaked through as well. What if he was about to bleed out? What if he was spending his last moments, pathetically heartbroken on his own bathroom floor?

"DIGGS!" he tried again, this time a little more panic to his voice.

The entire house was quiet still, and Rafa listened intently for few seconds before he finally heard an angry voice calling from the other side of the wall. "WHAT?"

"Diggs, I need your help!" Rafa called back, embarrassment flooding his voice.

"I'm kind of busy in here, Rafa!" Diggs bellowed back. Rafa had never heard him sound so annoyed before.

"Come on, man... I'm serious," Rafa let out a loud groan as he took in the bloody rag that was wrapped around his hand.

He heard cursing and shuffling on the other side of the wall and a few seconds later, the door to the bathroom finally swung open, revealing a very annoyed Daveed Diggs who was trying to hide away his boxer-clad erection with the palm of his hand.

Upon seeing how Diggs was already hard and ready to fuck Rafa's girl, there was no doubt: The pain in Rafa's chest definitely exceeded the pain in his hand.

Daveed

Daveed could not believe how lucky he was! He had barely closed the front door behind him before you had pulled him in for a string of sensual kisses in the dark. His lips were moving fiercely against your warm skin, your head lolling backwards as you panted and let him press you up against the wall in the hallway. He loved the sensation of your fingers tangled in his long hair as he attacked your neck and jawline with rough, affectionate kisses. You let out a small impatient pant as he untied the bow at the side of your dress, giving himself easier access to your beautiful build underneath as the dress opened up completely.

"Fuck, you look absolutely amazing," he cupped your ass and pressed his pelvis closer to you with a groan.

Your small fingers desperately undid the buttons of his shirt and Daveed quickly shrugged it off, finally standing in front of you in nothing but his dark blue slacks. His lips quickly resumed their positions on your neck where he immediately started sucking and nibbling at the sensitive skin while running his hands all over your torso.

Your fingers desperately found the button of his slacks and Daveed felt the tight sensation of his pants against his crotch disappearing slightly as you brought down the zipper and slid the slacks over his hips. Your small hand was palming him through the cotton of his boxers, and he couldn't stop the groan that fought its way all the way from his stomach and up his throat. He heard you chuckling incredulously above him as you let your dress fall to the ground before you dropped down to your knees in front of him, determinedly pulling his boxers down over his thighs.

Daveed's mind went completely blank when he felt your hand cup his balls while your wet mouth found the tip of his straining erection. Your warm breath against him had him let out an involuntary groan, and when your plump lips kissed his engorged head, the sensation sent a shiver all the way up his spine. He pulled your hair away from your face and held it in a loose ponytail on the back of your head, your eyes interlocking with his in the process. Even though you had him between your teeth, the submissive look you sent him had him feeling incredibly in control! Without giving up eye contact, you kissed his head twice before placing a long, wet lick at the tip of his erection, immediately sending hard vibrations throughout his entire body. "Fuck," he groaned and caressed the side of your face when you wrapped your lips tightly around his head, sucking a bit at the tip.

"Mmmh, pull my hair!" you panted around him and he immediately tugged on the ponytail, buckling his hips closer to your face, desperate to feel the ecstasy of warm, wet, tightness around him again. To Daveed's relief you immediately obliged and slid your lips almost all the way down to his base and back up again, releasing him with a small pop.

"Oh fuck!" He let out a groan as he looked down into your huge, submissive eyes, slowly stroking your cheek. You repeated your motions, your tongue wet and soft against him as you bopped your mouth along his length, his hips meeting you half-way, "yeah, that's it, baby, just like that," he panted softly as you kept gazing up at him, upping the tempo and bringing him all the way down your throat with a slight gag, reminding him of how big he was.

Daveed had received many blowjobs over the years but never in his life had he felt more worshipped and desired! You were massaging his balls lovingly as you brought his length down your throat, hollowing your cheeks and making him feel completely taken care of as you focused solely on his pleasure and enjoyment.

He was just about to let go and cum down your tight throat before he reminded himself that he'd have to take it easy if he wanted to last long enough to fuck you. And holy shit, how he wanted to fuck you! He knew he was very good with his hips and hands and he wanted to bring you pleasures that you'd never even dared dreaming of before.

It was hard to do, but eventually he managed to pull himself out of your wet mouth and you to your feet with a gruff, "come here!". He unclasped your bra and tossed it aside before he pushed you up against the wall, took your nipple in his mouth, and ran his fingers along your lace-covered folds. You let out a soft gasp and he repeated the motions of his fingers while attacking your neck and throat with toothy kisses. You were panting and moaning underneath him, your hand still stroking his erection lovingly.

"Okay, okay, okay, you gotta stop," he licked the shell of your ear with a low chuckle, "I still have so many things I want to do to you," he smacked your ass and you let out a small whimper when his palm came in to contact with your skin.

Slowly, you let go of him and carefully caressed his abs instead as he re-claimed your lips. The kiss was deep and soft, and it made the straining sensation in Daveed's erection even more unbearable, but he was patient enough to not touch himself.

After a few minutes of intense, passionate kissing, you pulled your face away from his and looked up at him with a dark look in your eyes, "well, are you going to do something about it? Or are you going to just leave it at talking?" You chuckled against his skin.

"Don't get cocky with me," Daveed smiled and hoisted you up in his arms. You let out a small yelp, but still threw your legs around his waist and let him carry you to his bedroom while licking his ear. He carefully positioned you with your back against the mattress of his bed and hovered above you as he put his lips to your collarbone, slowly kissing his way down between your breasts, over your stomach, and stopping when he reached the top of your panties. He sat himself down on his knees in front of you, sending you a hungry look as he ran his fingers over your body. You looked him square in the eye and raked a hand through his curls, pulling his head back slightly. The anticipating look you were sending him made his erection twitch between his legs, but he still didn't touch it. Instead, he licked his lips and kissed the laces between your legs. "I love this colour on you," he growled against the thin fabric. He could feel you shiver underneath him as he pulled the red laces down your well-shaped legs, caressing your inner thighs lovingly. "Mmh," he hummed as you spread your legs for him, your fingers still tangled in his hair. Your chest was heaving up and down in a slow, steady rhythm as he placed small kisses on your skin, his tongue just barely grazing you. He enjoyed the way you closed your eyes and dipped your head low as he repeated this motion a few times.

Slowly, he slipped his tongue inside your folds, your lips gently spreading for him as he tasted you. You gasped slightly when he reached your clit and gave it a small flick before he slowly ran his tongue over you again. You were panting above him, your fingers caressing his scalp as your face was screwed up in pleasure. Daveed couldn't look away even if he wanted to!

He caressed the back of your legs with his hands before he had his fingers join his tongue at your core. Slowly, he inserted a finger into your wet heat and was rewarded with a deep moan escaping your lips. Desperate to hear you again, he inserted yet another finger, letting his digits and tongue work in unison until you finally let out another deep moan.

He could tell you were close to letting go completely, and it was all working out so nicely, your chest heaving up and down faster and faster as you moaned loudly for him, your nails finding their way to his scalp, pulling his face closer to you - when clash!

Out of nowhere, a loud shatter was heard from somewhere in the house. It sounded like glass breaking, but Daveed was used to Rafa's clumsy ass, so he ignored what he assumed was his best friend returning home after his night out.

Daveed did, however, feel you freeze slightly underneath him, and you pulled back the moan that had been just about to escape your lips and replaced it with a, "what was that?!" a slight panic to your voice.

"Relax, it's probably just Rafa," Daveed whispered and resumed his movements.

"What's he doing here?" You panted slightly but not as sensually as before.

"He lives here," Daveed growled against your skin, annoyed by the fact that your attention was suddenly directed at his best friend instead of the very pleasurable things he knew he was doing. To make sure that you forgot about Rafa, Daveed brought out the big guns and put his lips around your clit, vibrating them while his fingers worked their way in and out of you. It worked expertly, and it didn't take him long before he'd earned himself another loud moan coming from you. You looked as if you were completely lost in the sensations, he was causing you - but not for long, because suddenly a loud "OH FUCK!" from Rafa rang throughout the house. It was followed by hurried footsteps as Rafa ran to the bathroom that was located next to Daveed's personal space.

Daveed felt you shuffle underneath him as you put your weight on your elbows and closed your legs slightly, craning your neck as you looked towards the wall that Daveed's personal space shared with the bathroom. You had a concerned look in your eyes that Daveed chose to ignore. Instead, he kept going with his fingers and tongue, but you weren't moaning anymore.

"Shit! Oh fuck that hurts!" Rafa exclaimed loudly from the other side of the wall.

"Don't you think you should go check on him?" You asked quietly, your eyes still glued to the wall.

"No," Daveed said curtly, and tried to get you to lie back down again so he could continue. You didn't budge, however. You were more interested in the loud groan that was escaping Rafa. You let out a nervous laugh as you once again heard him cuss and groan from the next room.

"Ignore him," Daveed panted as he spread your legs apart again, his tongue immediately finding your core, and he was rewarded with a gasp from you. He had just started moving his fingers inside you again when he heard Rafa call his name loudly from the other side of the wall.

"DIGGS!"

Daveed froze for about a mili-second before deciding to ignore Rafa and continue moving his fingers inside you instead.

"Go talk to him," you chuckled and raked a hand through his hair, suddenly totally unaffected by his movements,

"He can wait. I'm far too busy," Daveed let his tongue run over you again, once more losing himself in your wonderful wetness.

Rafa however, pulled him back to reality by yelling out his name a second time, "DIGGS!!" causing you to slightly close your legs one more time.

"You're kidding me..." Daveed muttered under his breath as his face was forced away from your wet centre. "WHAT?" he ended up bellowing back to his best friend on the other side of the wall.

"Diggs, I need your help!" Rafa kept calling.

"I'm kind of busy in here, Rafa!" Daveed bellowed while looking into your amused eyes.

You were chuckling slightly, "he needs you. Don't you think you better...?" You sent Daveed a charming grin while nodding towards the door, "he sounds quite drunk..."

Daveed shot you a pained look.

"Go," you chuckled, "I'll still be ready for you in here when you come back. Don't worry."

"Come on man... I'm serious," Rafa bellowed through the wall.

"I'm going to murder him for this!" Daveed groaned in an annoyed tone of voice and got up on his feet with a loud groan. He quickly located a pair of boxers and packed away his erection before storming out of the room, closing the door to his personal space shut behind him.

He found Rafa sitting up against the wall in the bathroom, his eyes swimming with alcohol. "What, bruh?!" Daveed demanded as he locked eyes with him, "what's so important that it couldn't wait until morning?"

"...Were you sleeping?" Rafa slurred while looking like a total fucking idiot as his drunk eyes scanned Daveed from head to toe.

"Of course I wasn't sleeping! I was in the middle of eating pussy when you ruined it!"

Rafa looked as if he was about to throw up, "...you're about to fuck her?" He slurred.

"Yes?! So make whatever you want to say quick, 'cause I got a soaking wet woman waiting for me on my bed!"

Rafa looked up at Daveed with a pained expression but kept his silence.

"I swear to god, if you don't speak up now and tell me what the hell made you call me out here, I'll kick your ass!"

Rafa sighed heavily, looking as if he was about to tell Daveed someone else's secret but eventually croaked, "I hurt myself," while holding up his left hand that was wrapped sloppily in a blood-soaked towel.

First then, did Daveed notice that there were several splodges of blood on the bathroom floor. It made him drop the attitude slightly, "Jesus fuck Rafa, what the hell did you do?" He groaned and crouched down next to him on the floor.

"I knocked down the frame in the hallway," Rafa slurred and let Daveed examine the deep cut in the palm of his hand, "cut myself on the glass."

"You did a thorough job," Daveed mumbled with a sigh as he lifted the towel to check out the gash that was still bleeding heavily, "come here, run some water on it. I'll find some bandages." Daveed turned on the faucet and helped Rafa find his balance as he quickly pulled him to his feet. He could tell that Rafa was struggling to stand still as he swayed back and forth while leaning in over the sink, playing a bit with the jet of water. Daveed sent him an annoyed glance; he did not have time for this! "How much did you have to drink after I left?" he asked, the irritation practically oozing out of him as he looked for the first-aid kit in one of the cabinets.

"I dunno," Rafa mumbled sleepily as he watched the water clean the blood away from his hand, "a lot?"

"Yeah, so I'd guessed," Daveed mumbled to himself as he located the first aid kit and quickly pulled out a couple of rolls of gauze. "Come over here," he urged Rafa to sit down on the edge of the tub next to him.

Rafa gave out a small grunt and turned off the water, before turning towards Daveed with lazy movements. Daveed had to bite his tongue to avoid telling Rafa to hurry the fuck up!

Rafa's ass had barely touched the white ceramic of the tub's edge before he lost his balance and vigorously swayed back and forth a few times, finally catching himself by throwing his hand up against the sink, leaving bloody handprints all over the bathroom in the process.

"Jesus Christ, Rafa!" Daveed groaned, he did not want to deal with Rafa's drunk ass right now, "look, I'll help you with your hand but I'm not cleaning up out here!" He said harshly.

"Then don't!" Rafa muttered as he slowly slid down to the floor with a loud groan, sending Daveed and irritated look in the process.

"Come on; give me your hand," Daveed demanded, determined to be done as fast as possible so he could get back to you.

Rafa held out his arm and Daveed rotated it to look for more injuries and noticed that Rafa had bruised his knuckles quite badly too, "...have you been in a fight?" He furrowed his brows.

"Just fix my hand, okay?!" Rafa shot Daveed an annoyed look, "Make it stop bleeding!" He slurred and gestured to the blood that was already dripping from his fingertips again.

Daveed gave out an irritated grunt as he started wrapping Rafa's bloody hand in gauze, "sit still!!"

"Oh fuck," Rafa groaned as Daveed slowly draped the gauze over the sensitive wound, "fuck it hurts."

"Quit your whining!"

There was a knock on the bathroom door and Daveed slowly looked up from Rafa's bloody hand and towards the door instead. You were poking in your head, looking curiously at what the two men were doing, your hair a big mess. "Is everything alright in here?" You asked carefully as you stepped inside, tugging on the oversized shirt you'd put on to cover up your naked body.

"Rafa cut himself - and apparently he's too drunk to handle it alone," Daveed rolled his eyes so Rafa couldn't see. He registered your amused smile just before he turned back to the hand in his lap, immediately noticing the small change in Rafa's flexibility as opposed to before you had stepped in. His fingers had somehow gone weirdly stiff, and by further inspection, Daveed realised that Rafa's entire body was suddenly tense, the muscles in his jaw continuously flexing and relaxing, flexing and relaxing. Still, Rafa didn't bat an eyelid, he didn't even emit a single sound. He was just silently staring at you, his eyes going up and down your front, his breathing hard and heavy. Daveed shot him a weird look out the corner of his eye. What the fuck was going on with him? He had definitely had too much to drink...

"'s that my shirt?" Rafa slurred to you as he took in your attire.

Daveed briefly looked up at you and realised that the oversized t-shirt you were wearing were indeed Rafa's favourite Raiders shirt that Daveed had borrowed the other day. Rafa had a weird look on his face, and it looked as if he was about the say something crude to you, so to diffuse the situation, Daveed spoke: "let it go, bruh," he said in an uninterested tone of voice before he quietly turned back to wrapping the bleeding hand. Why the fuck would Rafa care if you were wearing his t-shirt or not?? He didn't mind Daveed wearing it.

"Oh..." he heard you say softly from the doorframe, "Raiders... I'm sorry. I didn't realise."

"Yeah, no. Don't be," Rafa said softly and Daveed was just about to give his best friend a mental pad on the back for having enough sense to bring his attitude around so quickly, but then he added an "- it looks good on you!" in a flirty voice that vexed Daveed so much that he felt a slow anger bubble in his chest. He let go of the bleeding hand and straightened his back as he looked over at Rafa with a hard look. He could not believe that Rafa had the nerve - the audacity! - to act so disrespectfully! What the fuck had gotten into him?! He had been a huge cock-block to you and Daveed and now he found it suitable to be flirting with you???

Daveed had to take a deep breath to calm himself down, in the meantime reminding himself that Rafa was drunk as fuck and probably not even aware that his words could be misinterpreted as more than just friendly... Therefore, he purposely ignored his best friend's impudent behaviour and instead made sure to keep his eyes down low so he could concentrate fully on wrapping up the bleeding hand, determined get the fuck out of there as fast as possible so he could get back to slipping you his famous techniques.

The wound in the palm of Rafa's hand was still bleeding quite heavily, and it didn't take Daveed long to realise that he needed more gauze to make the blood stop dripping onto the floor. "Shit," he muttered under his breath and looked over at you, "baby, can you get me more gauze out of the cabinet?"

You whipped your gaze away from Rafa's face, your eyes immediately finding Daveed's. The look in your eyes instantly shifted from something that Daveed couldn't quite place to soft and cute, a small goofy smile slowly erupting on your lips as you scanned his face. You didn't say anything, just sent him a curt nod before you quietly turned to the cabinet, looking for the first-aid kit on the bottom shelf. As you bent over in front of him, your t-shirt rode up high and Daveed got a beautiful glimpse of the red laces under the hem of the t-shirt you were wearing. Your panties were hugging your ass nicely, and for a moment, he forgot about the bleeding limb in his hand - all he could think about was touching you again! He wanted to snap the useless piece of fabric between your legs in two and delve his tongue into your wet heat, bringing you untold pleasu- ...he suddenly felt Rafa's fingers do a small involuntary twitch in his lap and he realised that his best friend was checking you out too, his mouth hanging slightly open, his eyes glued to your ass.

What the fuck was the matter with him? Had the roles been reversed, Daveed would never have checked out Rafa's girl!

Angry with his best friend, Daveed gave Rafa's arm a small smack while sending him a threatening look, daring him to keep staring at your ass. When his and Rafa's eyes interlocked, Rafa's face curled up in a sour expression but he quickly fixated his gaze on the floor in front of him instead, probably realising that Daveed could knock him out easily.

Meanwhile, completely innocent and oblivious to what had just happened behind your back, you stood up straight and handed Daveed two extra rolls of gauze before resuming your position in the doorway.

Apparently, Rafa had learnt absolutely nothing from Daveed's silent threats and immediately went back to staring at you again. Daveed contemplated shooting Rafa a verbal threat as well but decided against it when he realised how absolutely pathetic his best friend looked. He was drunk as fuck, his eyes all foggy and glossy. Daveed would confront him about his disrespectful behaviour tomorrow.

Still, the fact that Rafa was staring intensely at you while you were only wearing the slightly oversized t-shirt and your beautiful, beautiful panties underneath, made Daveed uncomfortable as fuck, so he worked double speed on Rafa's hand to get you away from the bathroom faster.  Luckily, with the fresh supply of gauze from you, it only took him a few more minutes before he was done with the wrapping, a sigh of relief travelling through his body as he finally let go of Rafa's injured hand.

The tension in the bathroom could be cut with a knife and Daveed took a deep breath to calm himself down before breaking the silence by saying, "Look, I can bandage this to keep it from bleeding all over, but you need to go to the hospital for stitches or something."

"Mmh," Rafa grunted beside him, clearly not pleased with the situation. His eyes were glued to you, and he was wearing a certain hungry look on his face as he drank you in - and Daveed realised that Rafa definitely was aware of what signals he was sending.

What the hell was going on inside his pea-sized, idiot brain? Did he want Daveed to punch him? Daveed was just about to grab him by the collar when he heard you piping from the doorframe, "...I can take you."

...what? Daveed immediately turned his attention to you and saw the soft look you were sending Rafa as you continued, "I can drive. I almost didn't drink tonight."

What?! You liked Rafas stares?!

"You'd - you'd do that?" he heard Rafa whisper from beside him, a soft smile erupting on his best friend's lips.

Daveed didn't like it. He thought to himself that it looked as if the two of you had developed a secret language in the time it had taken him to wrap Rafa's hand. What the hell had he missed out on?

"Of course," you nodded slowly, your eyes still interlocking with Rafa's, "Let me just grab some pants, okay?"

"Yeah, okay," Rafa whispered, a hopeful look on his face, "thanks."

What the fuck was going on between you two?

Daveed watched you send Rafa a small smile, your face flushed. The sexual tension was thick between the two of you, and Daveed felt the jealousy burn in his chest as neither of you were looking away from the other. How the fuck dare Rafa flirt with the girl that he had brought home?! How dare he send you those hungry looks?! It was itching in Daveed's hands to do something about the long, continuous gaze between you and in his frustration, he curled his fingers and accidentally pressed on Rafa's wound, making him hiss in pain as he shot back an angry look. Daveed was far too busy looking over at you, however. You finally had your attention directed at him - and not Rafa - your eyes huge and doe-like, looking as if you'd just woken up from a trance. He shot you a look as if to say 'what the fuck is going on?' and you gulped guiltily.

Suddenly realising that he finally had the full attention of both you and Rafa, Daveed spoke up in a voice that was much more strained than he had intended, "Nope! Not gonna happen! Uh-uh, absolutely no fucking way," he shot his best friend a hard look, "Rafa you can take a cab!" he turned his attention back to you, "Baby go back to bed, I'll be there in a second!"

He noticed your eyes skating between his own face and Rafa's and he sternly let out a "he'll take the cab, okay!" He didn't like the way you were looking at each other, and he still very much intended on fucking you tonight no matter how big of a cock-block Rafa was being!

He was trying to catch your eye, but you had your gaze firmly placed on Rafa again, seemingly unable to look away. Daveed noticed how you let out a small gulp as Rafa shot you a careful nod as if giving you permission to leave.

What the hell was going on????

He also noticed the long glance the two of you shared before you gently closed the door behind you as you exited the bathroom.

What! The! Fuck!

Daveed felt his chest bubbling over. He had never felt this way towards Rafa before, but his best friend had never looked more punchable! Automatically, his fingers once more pressed in hard on Rafa's wound.

"Ah! Dude what the fuck!" Rafa yelped loudly.

"What the fuck was that all about?" Daveed spat, "you're flirting with my girl!"

"She's not your girl just because you brought her home for one night, Diggs!" Rafa hissed angrily through gritted teeth.

"What the hell are you talking about?!" Daveed felt as if his eyes were bulging out of his skull, "She's crazy about me! You should've seen the way she was begging for it at the bar!"

"Yeah, I saw everything," Rafa said slowly with anger in his eyes, a low growl to his voice as he drunkenly staggered to his feet, "I saw exactly how you swooped in and thought you could erase eight years of history between me and her!"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Daveed hissed before his voice turned to frustrated yelling, "Rafa, you have no history with her!" he too stood up, so they were eye to eye, "you made out with her once eight years ago and now no one else is allowed to touch her?! If you wanted a shot with her, you should have done something ages ago!"

"I did do something ages ago! I kissed her!"

"Yeah! And then you had eight years of nothing! You didn't even talk to her! How the fuck was I supposed to know that you wanted to kiss her again???"

"You could have asked me!" Rafa yelled frustratedly.

"I could have asked you?! Come on, man!! You're thirty-three years old for fucks sake! If you wanted something to happen with her, you should've engaged yourself!"

"I was planning on doing so tonight!" Rafa hissed angrily, "and she would've said yes if it hadn't been for you!"

"No she wouldn't!" Daveed was minutes away from pulling out his own hair. How could Rafa be so thick?! "Don't you think that something would've happened by now if you both wanted it so badly?"

"Did you not see how she was eye-fucking me just now?" Rafa yelled angrily, sending Daveed a hard look.

Daveed let out a low growl, "yeah, meanwhile I was minutes away from actually fucking her! If she really wanted you, don't you think she would've given you more signals than a few pitiful looks because you're drunk and hurt? She doesn't want you, man!!"

"Fuck you!!!" Rafa spat angrily and shoved Daveed in the chest causing him to stagger backwards as he was pushed out of balance.

"What the fuck's the matter with you!" Daveed spat as he took a step closer to Rafa, balling up his fists and sending him a threatening look, "you really want me to beat you up?"

"Do whatever the fuck you want with me as long as you stay away from her!" Rafa yelled and gave Daveed another hard shove in the chest. His eyes were bloodshot and Daveed had never seen him this angry before.

"What the fuck's gone into you?" He yelled louder than before, "she clearly doesn't want you! Why can't you just let her go?!"

"Because I'm in love with her!" Rafa yelled loudly, spit flying everywhere. His eyes were huge and aggressive.

Daveed took a step backwards and stared at his panting best friend as his angry words sank in. Rafa's nostrils were flared, and it looked as if he was about to punch Daveed in the face.

...Rafa was in love with you? Daveed could punch himself! Why hadn't he seen it before? Of course Rafa was in love with you... He took a deep breath to calm himself down before he quietly spoke: "Yes - well I'm crazy about her too..."

Rafa was still panting heavily, his nostrils still flared as he shot Daveed a hard look - but he didn't say anything.

They had feelings for the same girl... Daveed frustratedly pinched the bridge of his nose as the realisation sank in; a girl had come between them. How high school... "Shit," he said quietly, "what do we do now?"

Rafa shot him a dark look and answered immediately: "you back down!" he said harshly but not as aggressively as before.

"I'm not going to back down, Rafa," Daveed answered him quietly. He full-on intended on making you his no matter what Rafa's feelings were.

"I've been in love with her for eight years!" Rafa spat angrily but he had stopped yelling, "You have for eight minutes! Don't you think it's more fair that you let me have a shot?!"

Daveed was getting more and more frustrated by the second but was happy that Rafa had chosen to use those exact words: "Exactly Rafa! You had eight years! You sat on your hands for eight years and you expect her to come running to you now? You expect me to let you have a shot? You've had millions of opportunities to do something!"

Rafa's face was still wild but his tone of voice was quiet and determined: "you saw the look she just sent me!" he said darkly.

Daveed had to give it to him; the way you'd been staring at Rafa had confused him too: "Listen, I don't know what the fuck that was, but if she had any feelings for you at all, why would she go home with me?" He said quietly, "why would she take off her clothes for me and not you?"

Rafa shook his head back and forth as if refusing to believe the argument, "No..." he croaked, "please don't say it like that, man..."

"Bruh..." Daveed sighed, "I'm sorry it is this way, but I don't know what else to tell you." He felt bad for Rafa but he wasn't going to back down. No chance.

"Please don't fuck her," Rafa pleaded quietly. His heart obviously broken.

"You know I'm not going to guarantee you that..."

"Just... Let me talk to her first."

"What do you expect to gain from that?"

"She wants to talk to me too..."

"Maybe - but it won't go your way. She's lying naked in my bed right now! She made her decision, bruh."

Rafa looked pained. He was clutching his chest with his eyes screwed shut, a small tear rolling down his cheek, "fuck!" he quietly worded before he fell to his knees in front of the toilet and threw up.

You

"I'm going to murder him for this!" Daveed pulled himself away from you and on to his feet, desperately looking around the room for something to wear. He finally pulled out a pair of clean boxers from his closet, pulled them on, and hurried out of the bedroom to see what was going on with Rafa. He had sounded very drunk and even though you had been slightly amused by his constant swearing throughout the house, the sound of glass smashing combined with his drunk cries for help, had also left you a bit nervous that something serious might've happened to him. What if he had cut himself badly and Daveed couldn't handle it alone? Rafa was your friend too after all. You had to make sure everything was all right with him.

Quickly, you jumped from Daveed's bed, pulled on your panties, and looked around the room for something to wear that could cover your body as your own dress had been discarded during the make-out session in the hallway. You quickly located a black t-shirt that was casually thrown over a chair in the corner of the room and pulled it over your head, grateful that it covered you all the way down to the top of your thighs. Ready to leave Daveed's bedroom, and with your hand already on the doorknob, you took a brief look at yourself in the mirror to make sure you were decent. You tried padding down your messy sex-hair but the sound of Rafa hissing in pain from the other room had you abandon any thought of trying to fix your looks - Rafa's injuries seemed much more urgent. Forcing your eyes away from your own reflection, you opened the door to the hallway instead and listened for their voices.

"Just fix my hand, okay?! Make it stop bleeding!" you heard Rafa slur from the room next door. He was clearly very drunk.

"Sit still!!" Daveed growled.

It sounded as if they had the situation under control and you were just about to go back to Daveed's bed and wait for him there when you heard Rafa exclaim, "Oh fuck! Fuck it hurts!"

It made you do a U-turn on your heel and you decided to check in on the two men to see if they were in need of any extra help. Softly, you knocked on the door but didn't listen for an answer as you immediately poked in your head and took in the scene in the small bathroom: the two men were sitting next to each other; Daveed on the edge of the bathtub with Rafa's bloody hand in his lap while Rafa was splayed on the floor looking very drunk. Both of them were looking directly up at you with equally soft expressions on their faces. Daveed's eyes were loving as he silently apologised for having to help his best friend clean up. Rafa, on the other hand, was staring up at you with a sorrowful look on his pale face, his eyes huge and red-rimmed, his Adam's apple bouncing up and down in his throat as he gulped hard.

The tension between them was thick, the air cold. Both of them clearly equally annoyed with the other.

"Is everything alright in here?" You asked quietly as you pushed open the door and stepped inside, tugging on your t-shirt to prevent it from riding up.

"Rafa cut himself..." Daveed rolled his eyes so only you could see before he continued, "- and apparently he's too drunk to handle it alone," he shot Rafa an annoyed sideway-glance before he turned his attention to the gauze and Rafa's blood-covered hand in his lap.

You watched Rafa send Daveed an equally irritated glance, looking as if he was biting his tongue to keep himself from retorting something nasty. He had probably already realised that he needed Daveed's help to get the wound to stop bleeding and that he wouldn't get it by being crass. So instead, Rafa silently let Daveed wrap his hand as his eyes slowly found yours, his expression immediately changing from annoyed to soft.

You sent him a small reassuring smile and a goofy expression emerged on his drunk face when he happily reciprocated it. You let out a small laugh at his expression and he blinked a few times, looking as if he was saving the sound on his mental hard drive. His foggy eyes were softly gazing up at you with a soulful look, and he looked drunk but cute as he took you in, a weird undertone in his gaze that you couldn't quite place. It was a look that you recognised from somewhere, but not from him - from someone else. You scanned his face one more time, raking your brain to find out from where you knew the gaze, he was sending you, but it wasn't immediately clear. Suddenly however, you realised that it was the same look that Daveed had sent you several times over the last couple of weeks. It was a look of longing.

Softly, you cocked your head at him, and he sent you a small, sad smile in return, his green eyes kindly taking in your face before they travelled down your body, ultimately landing on your chest. You immediately folded your arms, and he looked back up into your eyes, your eyebrows now arched in an unimpressed manner, silently tell him that he'd been caught staring red-handed. His face screwed up in a painful expression and he paled a bit before he quietly slurred, "'s that my shirt?".

Unaware of what he was talking about, you looked towards the mirror above the sink on the opposite side of the bathroom wall, and when you caught your own reflection, you realised that he hadn't been staring at your chest. He'd been staring at the logo on the t-shirt. The Raiders logo - his football team. You weren't wearing Daveed's shirt. You were wearing Rafa's.

You'd seen him in it multiple times - hell, he'd even worn it the night you'd kissed on top of the skate ramps. You remembered because every so often your mind wandered back to that night. Played it on repeat. Rafa's hand on your thigh as Stevie Nicks' voice rang in the background. Your tongues intertwining. The stubble on his chin soft between your fingertips. The scent of his warm cologne. The thought of your passionate kiss that summer night eight years ago was enough to make a warm feeling appear in your stomach.

Still looking at yourself in the mirror, you let your arms drop to the side and took in your own reflection. The t-shirt was a few sizes too big for you and it covered you like a short dress, just barely reaching below the red panties you were wearing underneath. The Raiders logo took up most of the front of the shirt and the logo curved nicely along your breasts and waistline, making the oversized men's shirt actually look as if it'd been tailored to you. You liked this look. You actually looked good in Rafa's t-shirt.

From far away you heard Daveed's voice, "let it go, bruh," and it pulled you back to reality.

"Oh... Raiders..." you said quietly, unable to pry your eyes away from the way the t-shirt was hugging your curves. No wonder Rafa was staring at you. You had gone home with his roomie, yet you'd put on his shirt - and you even looked good in it. "I'm sorry. I didn't realise," you croaked.

Rafa was looking as if he was thinking about the same thing as you, and for a second you were afraid that he might get angry about the fact that Daveed's flirt was wearing his beloved Raiders t-shirt, but he just softly said, "yeah, no. Don't be. It looks good on you..."

You didn't react to his words but merely stared at yourself in the mirror as the memories of your Tacos Locos summer once more flooded your mind - and you slowly felt a dull ache in your chest when you looked back at Rafa's pained expression and realised that maybe there was a reason for his look of longing, his quiet, pained reaction to seeing you half-naked in his shirt when you'd gone home with his best friend. He probably wasn't as cool with you and Daveed as Daveed had let on. Maybe your suspicion about why Rafa had invited you to join his production was right after all...

Oh no.

The thought of kissing Rafa again had grazed your mind several times in the period of time between his phone call offering you the job, and your first day on set where you'd been introduced to his best friend for the first time. Daveed, however, had immediately pushed every sensual thought of Rafa out of your head and had instead replaced them with unholy thoughts about himself. The sexual attraction that you had felt towards Daveed for the past month was insane and you were definitely crazy about him! ...Still, you wondered if he was the type of man, you'd still fantasise about eight years after having shared a passionate kiss in the dark. The same way you so often had found yourself fantasising about Rafa.

...had you just made a huge mistake?

Rafa's cheeks paled considerably as his gaze constantly shifted between your face and the Raiders logo. He was clearly affected by the fact that you were wearing his shirt and nothing else, and it looked as if he was having a hard time sitting still. The tender yet hurtful look he sent you made you feel horrible about yourself and all the decisions that had led to this exact moment. What if things had been different back in the taco truck eight years ago? What if he had actually taken you home after one of your late nights out? And what if Daveed hadn't been so persistent in hooking up with you over the last couple of weeks? If he hadn't been so smooth and charming, would he still have been able to swoop in right before Rafa? Or would you eventually have gone home with Rafa instead?

Would it feel more right to be sleeping in Rafa's bed tonight?

Oh no...

"Shit!" Daveed's voice brought you back from your panicky train of thought. You looked over at him, his face sweet and innocent as he was helping his best friend recover, and you realised: no, it wouldn't feel more right to be sleeping in Rafa's bed tonight. But it would feel just as right as sleeping in Daveed's.

"Baby, can you get me more gauze out of the cabinet?" he continued.

Baby. It had slipped out of him. He hadn't even realised it... The caring, handsome man in front of you had called you baby and you couldn't help but send him a small smile as it had made you soft. You were baby to him.

Rafa had a reaction to the pet name too: he looked as if he was about to murder Daveed.

Desperately trying to untangle yourself from the situation you had put yourself in, you turned over to the cabinets and pulled out more gauze, promptly handing it over to Daveed before resuming your position in the doorframe.

Immediately, you and Rafa went back to staring at each other again, both unable to look away. The looks he was sending you were deep and longing, his eyes pained as he grew more and more tense with each passing second. He looked as if he wanted to touch you, to kiss you, to hold you tight. Shit.

Your eyes were flickering fast between the two men: both of them sweet and handsome. Both of them crazy about you. You couldn't decide whether or not you had made a mistake by choosing to go home with Daveed tonight.

Daveed broke the tension in the small bathroom when he in an irritated tone of voice said, "Look, I can bandage this to keep it from bleeding all over, but you need to go to the hospital for stitches or something."

Rafa let out a small grunt without looking away from you. It looked as if he wanted to tell you something but was unable to with Daveed being present. It was heart-breaking.

You liked Daveed very much but realised that you had to talk to Rafa as well. You had to hear what he had to say, "...I can take you," you piped up in a voice that was weirdly nervous, "I can drive. I almost didn't drink tonight."

"You'd - you'd do that?" Rafa said in a whisper and sent you a warm look.

"Of course," you nodded slowly, suddenly desperate to talk to him, to hear his thoughts, "Let me just grab some pants, okay?"

"Yeah, okay. Thanks," Rafa said quietly, his pained expression now completely replaced by a hopeful one.

Daveed had definitely noticed that something was going on with you because the annoyance was practically seeping out of him though he was trying his best to keep calm. He did something to Rafa's hand that had Rafa hissing in pain and shooting Daveed an angry look with his lips pressed together in a thin, white line.

Your eyes whipped over to Daveed as well. He was sending you a hurt look that said 'what the fuck are you doing?' and you gulped guiltily. Had he realised that you were unsure about what to do with the two men in front of you?

"Nope!" Daveed said loudly, shaking his head vigorously, "Not gonna happen. Uh-uh, absolutely no fucking way. Rafa you can take a cab!" he shot Rafa a hard look before he turned back to you, his eyes soft, but his voice full of irritation, "Baby, go back to bed, I'll be there in a second!"

There it was again. Baby. You looked into Daveed's soft brown eyes that were looking pleadingly back at you, your knees immediately weak. Slowly, you let your gaze wander a bit to the left and met Rafa's huge green eyes too. They also made you feel incredibly soft.

Daveed noticed your gaze drifting over to Rafa and harshly interjected, "he'll take a cab, okay!"

Rafa sent you a slight nod as if to say that it was alright for you to leave, and that he could handle Daveed and his bleeding hand on his own. Meanwhile Daveed was staring at his best friend with a murderous look in his eyes. You realised that they had to resolve some stuff too, so even though it hurt in your chest, you slowly turned away from the two men, and walked back to Daveed's bedroom. Just before the door to the bathroom closed behind you, you heard the beginning of an argument between the two friends: "Ah! Dude what the fuck!" Rafa yelped loudly.

To which Daveed angrily responded with a "What the fuck was that all about? You're flirting with my girl!" It was more a statement than a question.

You sat awkwardly on Daveed's bed, unsure of what to do now. Daveed had noticed the long looks between you and Rafa. Shit. Even though you hadn't intended it, you had still managed to turn them against each other.

You could hear their angry voices from the other side of the wall, but you didn't want to listen in on their private conversation, so you put your fingers in your ears. Their shouted words were not meant for you. It was a desperate conversation between two best friends, and even though you could've easily followed their screaming match, it didn't seem right to do so. Desperately, you pressed in on your ear canal and started humming softly to tune out most of their angry words. Still, snippets of their loud conversation penetrated your ears.

"Rafa, you have no history with her!" Daveed was yelling before Rafa's voice was heard a few seconds later: "Did you not see how she was eye-fucking me just now?" followed a little while later by a loud "Fuck you!" from Rafa and an angry "you really want me to beat you up?" from Daveed. They kept yelling loudly at each other, but you tried not to decipher their angry words as you found them private. There was a reason why they had sent you out of the bathroom after all.

After a few minutes, their angry yells finally died down completely and were instead replaced by muffled words in normal voices that you couldn't make out even if you tried. You slowly removed your fingers from your ears, instead burying your face in your hands, angry with yourself for having let it come to this.

Their muffled voices could be heard for a few seconds before the sound was disrupted by someone retching.

One of them was throwing up, the other completely silent. You listened intently for a few seconds to see if you could make out who was throwing up, hoping that the other would say some words of comfort, but neither of them spoke, and after about a minute of silence, you heard footsteps approaching the room you were lying in. The doorknob twisted and Daveed entered the room slowly, his eyes full of pain as he took you in. He sat down on the bed next to you, panting hard, obviously very upset about the entire situation. It hurt seeing him like this. And it hurt thinking about Rafa lying alone in the bathroom. You dried an annoying tear away from your cheek and just barely managed to reset your face before Daveed looked up at you with a sad smile. You did your best to look casual as if you hadn't got the faintest idea of what their screaming match had been about. You acted as if wearing Rafa's shirt meant nothing. Seeing his pained expression had done nothing. Hearing him sob in the bathroom made you feel no ways.

"Everything okay?" You asked Daveed carefully.

"Yeah," he grunted.

"How about Rafa?" you said quietly. Even the sound of his name hurt in your chest.

"He's..." Daveed's words died in his throat as he frustratedly buried his face in his hands with a deep sigh.

You gulped, "is he okay alone out there?"

"Can we please not talk about Rafa right now?" he said slowly.

"Yeah..." you nodded quietly, "come here," you folded your arms around his chest, hugging him tight. He pulled you on top of him and hugged you back, his strong arms squeezing you, bringing you comfort as if he knew what you were going through as well. You sat like this for a few seconds, your arms wrapped tightly around each other comforting the broken feeling you both felt in your chests until his lips slowly found their way to your neck, leaving sweet, sensual kisses to the side of your throat.

"Look," you said quietly, pulling yourself away from him and looking into his chocolate brown eyes, "it's not that I don't enjoy this, but I just think it's for the best if I go home."

"What? No?" Daveed looked up at you with a pained expression, "come on, we can't let Rafa ruin our night," he groaned and moved closer to you but suddenly paused, "unless you don't want to of course. I don't want to force you into anything," he looked carefully at you and you understood why. He wanted to make sure that you were comfortable with the decision you were making. Comfortable with him.

It made you realise that the fact that you were lying in Daveed's bedroom half-naked, meant that you had made your choice long ago. You needed to stick with it.

"Yeah, okay," you said and moved your lips close to his, kissing him softly.

"You have no idea how happy that makes me," he groaned against your lips and you felt him breathe a sigh of relief as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He quickly pulled Rafa's t-shirt over your head, and harshly threw it onto the ground next to the bed. You couldn't help but think of the symbolics in his heated gesture.

His warm hands immediately found your breasts and he started running his fingers over your nipples with a low growl. You enjoyed the confident, hungry look he sent you as you were once again bare-chested in front of him. He moved his face closer to yours, "I still fully intent on making you feel good and make you let loose a little," he repeated his words from earlier that evening with a smile and carefully pushed you down on the bed, a warm shiver travelling up your spine with his words and movements. He hovered above you before his lips started pressing small, peppered kisses to the side of your throat, his one hand running down your stomach and dipping down between your legs, making you gasp softly. His lips moved over your collarbone and down between the valley of your breasts, taking one of your nipples in his mouth, and making you arch your back against him, as you felt his erection pressed up between your legs. He groaned as he pushed his boxer-clad erection closer to you, looking down at you with an erotic spark in his eye. Your fingers found his soft hair and you raked a hand through his curls and reciprocated the look he was sending you; dark and sensual.

You were both getting lost in the sensations you were causing each other when you were interrupted by the sound of Rafa retching and his heart-breaking sobs from the next room. It made your stomach ache horribly and you interrupted the kiss with Daveed, looking towards the wall to the bathroom instead. "I'm sorry, I can't just leave him alone with that..."

"What? You're not serious?" He looked at you with a disappointed look on his face.

"Listen to him," you said softly, as Rafa let out another heartbroken sob.

"He'll be fine," Daveed responded harshly before he resumed kissing your throat.

You pulled your face away from him, raking a hand through his hair one more time, "he's your best friend. Do you really want him to be alone right now? He sounds so heartbroken."

"Trust me - you do not want to deal with him right now."

Rafa retched loudly.

"I'm sorry," you kissed Daveed briefly, "but I have to make sure he's okay. I'll be back in a second."

Daveed let out an irritated grunt but eventually let go of you so you could crawl down from his lap. You quickly found the Raiders t-shirt on the floor and pulled it over your head, exiting the bedroom in a swift motion.

You knocked quietly on the door to the bathroom and found Rafa lying on the floor next to the toilet sobbing quietly. "Rafa, honey, are you okay?" you said softly as you sat down next to him and carefully put your hand on his chest.

He took a deep breath and looked up at you with wet eyes. The gaze he sent you was bloodshot, but he wasn't as pale as before. Throwing up some of the alcohol had definitely done him some good. "Hey," he whispered in a raspy voice as he put his good hand on top of yours, closing his eyes again taking three deep breaths. You noticed that he didn't answer your question.

As you pulled your hand away from his chest to fix him a glass of water, he groaned at the lack of touch and sat up straight, sleepily resting his head on the edge of the tub, looking at you with tired, sad eyes.

"Are you done throwing up?" you asked him as you handed him the glass.

He took a big gulp and nodded "I think so... Listen, can we talk?"

You sent him a small smile, "tomorrow, okay?" you didn't want to cause him anymore heartbreak tonight, "let's get you to bed," you held out your hand.

"Yeah, okay..." he took your hand and let you pull him to his feet. He was still very drunk, so you had to help him with his balance, your arm tightly wrapped around his waist, "come here," you chuckled and walked him to his room with his arm draped over your shoulder. As soon as you entered his personal space, he threw himself down on the bed with a loud groan.

"You're not going to disrobe?" you chuckled at him.

"Yeah, no... I don't care right now," he said and closed his eyes, "I just want to sleep... Let this absolute shit night be over."

You guiltily shook your head and forcefully pulled off his Chelsea boots and socks.

"Are you trying to get me naked?" He joked sleepily from the bed; his eyes closed.

"I'm trying to get you comfortable," you chuckled, "you have to take off your shirt and pants yourself."

Rafa groaned but sat up straight before he pulled his shirt over his head. His eyes were still closed, and his long hair was falling in unruly strands around his face. He looked exhausted as he undid the button on his pants and slid them off himself, plumping down on the bed afterwards.

"You don't think I'll bleed to death, do you?" he groaned and lifted his bandaged hand a little.

"I'm absolutely positive you won't," you chuckled at him, "if it's still bleeding tomorrow, I'll take you to the hospital, okay?"

"Okay, can't wait," he smiled sleepily and gave out a quiet snore as if he'd briefly fallen asleep. He was lying flat on his back which gave you time to study the tattoos he had on his chest and forearms. Some of them you didn't like, others were beautiful. He had one on his pec that you'd never seen before.

"If I love you, I have to make you conscious of the things you don't see," you read out loud, looking at his chest.

Even though Rafa had his eyes closed and looked as if he was just about to fall asleep again, he knew what you were talking about and softly tapped the tattoo he had on his pec, "that's right," he slurred with a small smile. For the first time since he'd cut himself, he looked as if he was peaceful, and you tugged one of his long strands of blonde hair away from his eyes and behind his ear instead. Your fingers lingered on his cheek for a second and he kissed your palm with a small hum, "that means that I have to make you conscious of the things you don't see," he whispered before he drifted off completely.

"Alright Rafa," you chuckled quietly as you ran your fingers through his soft hair. He had started breathing heavily, already fast asleep, "thanks for explaining the words of your tattoo with the exact same words!" You got up from the bed and quietly closed the door behind you as you walked out into the hallway.

You'd only walked a few steps towards Daveed's room when the meaning behind Rafa's sentence hit you and you froze in place. Inside your head, the written words of the tattoo and Rafa's whispered words played on repeat. He hadn't explained the tattoo to you. He had told you that he loved you.

He loved you. Rafa was in love with you.

And you were walking towards the bedroom of his best friend. You turned your head slightly, looking towards Rafa's room. Should you go back to him? Or continue to Daveed? You were completely frozen in time, desperately looking between the two bedroom doors on either side of the bathroom in the hallway, realising that even though you might have been lying naked in Daveed's arms only minutes before, Rafa's words hurt so much in your chest that your decision-making was far from over.

Rafa's room was to the left. He had just confessed his feelings for you. Or, he didn't just have feelings for you; he was in love with you. Probably had been since your summer together in the taco truck. You wouldn't say that you were in love with him, but there was definitely raw, heated attraction towards him on your part as well, or you wouldn't still be thinking about your drunk kiss in the dark eight years ago, the way he was always able to make you laugh, his soft, green eyes. It hurt in your chest to think about how you'd potentially wasted eight years without him by your side. If you went to him, you'd either finally be able to stop thinking of him as 'the one who got away' and actually engage in something romantic with him - or you'd see that eight years of absence might have grown the heart so fond that you had put him on a pedestal that he couldn't live up to.

Daveed's room was to the right. He was waiting for you in there, probably ready to fuck you so good that you wouldn't be able to remember your own name. The preview he'd given you earlier tonight had definitely shown you that he was able to bring all your sexual fantasies to life! And you had craved his touch for so long, to feel his strong hands on your body as he slid into you while whispering sweet words in your ear. You and him definitely had some insane potential - not to mention the fact that he was already calling you baby! He was so crazy about you that you were baby to him! - but did you feel the same emotional attraction to him? Or was the warm feeling in your stomach whenever you looked at him all due to sexual attraction? Could you and he ever become more than raw passion?

No matter what, you'd have to choose between them. You couldn't have both. With whomever you chose, you'd never be able to have the other.

Carefully, you weighed both your options; left or right? Rafa or Daveed?

You started at both of their doors, unsure about where to go, but eventually made a decision. With a deep breath, you stepped closer to the wooden door, grabbed door handle and stepped inside, softly closing the door behind you as you took in the handsome man on the bed.

Tagging: @exrthangel @theatrenerd86 @lonelydance @ohsoverykeri @summerofsnowflakes @ramp-it-up @alexander-hamilhoe @honeysucklechocolatedrippin @riiyy @mysearchforgratification @janthony-stan @sillyteecup @biafbunny @einfachniemand @cashskid @namelesslosers @simpinforu​ @diggsbeatriz​ (Imma keep tagging you unless you say something lol).

....No spoilers in the comments please :-) 

[imagine-this-fandom]

The Rescue: BNHA x Fem! Reader- Dusty Chinchilla

The rescue intro: here

You laughed as she led you back into the main section of the store, weaving through cages and various animal supplies. She quickly deposited her bunny into a glass enclosure before ducking out of view. She popped up a moment later as she scanned the cages in front of her for something specific. While she looked, you wandered the store. There were so many enclosures with fascinating animals in them. You had made your way to the rodent section when the fairly quiet chattering of the animals kicked up a notch accompanied by a high pitched barking noise. The tank that housed the seemingly angry animal was pushed towards the back, away from the other animals. You were a bit concerned about the noise and Inko's nonreaction to it, so you decided to check it out. Just in case there was something that needed to be dealt with.

You were quite surprised to find the animal that was making the noise was a Chinchilla. He was screaming across the aisle at what looked to be a black snake. He was looking directly at the tank across the way and making irritated barking noises, pressed against the glass. He was really cute, a kind of grey-blue color, and besides that, he was the fluffiest animal you had ever seen. But man could you tell he was angry about something.

You knelt in front of the glass, shivering lightly as the thin material of your work pants did little to shield you as your knees met the cold tile of the floor. A small smile tugged on the corner of your lips as you observed him. The animal was quick to notice you, his curiously red eyes zeroing in on you as he went dead silent. You pouted and tilted your head as you looked him over.

"Aww, did I interrupt your tantrum?"

Your teasing words were met with silence for a beat before the rodent's little hands found their way to his neck, scratching in an aggravated way that immediately made you wince.

"aww, no honey, don't do that. That can't be good for you." You sprang up and waved Inko over, concerned about the little animal.

Inko pulled her phone away from her ear for a beat to acknowledge you before hurriedly hanging up and heading your way.

"what's wrong dear?"

You gestured to the angry chinchilla with distress.

"He's so stressed out! Is there anything we can do for him?"

Inko bit her lip, staring at the animal with pity but also a fair amount of annoyance.

"Tomura does that. I could get him a cone in order to stop, but he'll work himself into a tizzy trying to get it off. Not to mention he hates being handled. Come, I'll take you to see the other pets."

You paused as she began to walk away, leaving him just not sitting well with you. Glancing back at the angry creature, you couldn't help the wave of concerned curiosity that swept over you.

"If I walk away now, is there much hope someone will take him?"

Inko looked back at you, wringing her hands nervously as she thought it over.

"He's temperamental. It would be difficult to place him."

A beat of silence passed as you pondered her words.

"I'll take him." As you said the words, you saw the Chinchilla stop scratching from your peripheral vision.

Inko grimaced before taking a deep breath and offering you a gentle smile.

"You have a lot of compassion. I should have known you'd be interested in our more troubled pets. Let me make a call and get you some supplies. It's the least I can do.  I'll be right back."

As she turned to find the supplies you'd need, you focused back on the tank.

Tomura, as Inko had called him, was watching you with an intensity that made you fidget in place a little.  His tiny hands had stopped their scratching and were frozen against his neck. He didn't move until you stepped closer to the tank, eyes now level with him as red met (e/c).

"Hey little guy, everything's going to be alright now. I'm busting you out of this joint!"

He was scowling. You didn't know rodents could scowl, but that's definitely the vibe you were picking up from him.

Tomura was confused, absolutely seething, but also confused. Not only was he trapped in this ridiculous body, but now he was being treated like a common animal, a pet to be owned! This was nowhere near what his sensei had planned for him and he couldn't enact his plans in this form. It was utterly infuriating. He decided he would do whatever was in his power to make you regret taking pity on him. How dare you make fun of him! Were you actually trying to play hero with him. think you could save him from being left behind? How naive.

While he was throwing a mental temper tantrum, you were watching with amusement. His anger couldn't help but be a little funny to you, especially now that he wasn't scratching anymore. What did a Chinchilla have to be angry about?  You wanted to reach in and reassure him, but you had a good feeling he'd bite you if you put your hand anywhere near him. You'd have to work your way up to that in time.

"Don't be too upset, I'll make sure to take good care of you. Also, you won't have to fight with that snake again! He'll be far away."

Tomura seemed to pause to think about your words. He supposed that at least one good thing would come from this arrangement. The ability to talk to the other humans affected by the quirk that had caused the animal mishap was both a blessing and a curse. Dabi taunted him constantly, taking immense pleasure from his annoyance. While some of the heroes had attempted conversations, he was quick to shut them down. However, that didn't stop the thin golden retriever from checking on him daily, which he'd be glad to be away from. Perhaps he could find a way to escape once he was out of the store? Maybe this ordeal could be a good thing. This train of thought calmed him considerably.

All too quickly for Shigaraki's liking, Mrs. Midoriya was back with a cage and several supplies as well as a carrier. Your eyes widened at the wagon she had loaded for you. Chinchillas needed quite a few things to keep them healthy, you noted. You would have to do some research before bed. You narrowed your eyes in concentration as Inko went to get Shigaraki, wanting to copy her method so you didn't hurt him accidentally.

The kind shopkeeper was surprised when the usually volatile rodent stayed calm and still as she moved him from the tank to a carrier. Once the door was securely shut, she offered the wagon to you. This worried her slightly, but her quick call with Nezu assured her that things would work out.

"There you go, dear. This should be everything you need for now. Hopefully, he doesn't give you much trouble. He's an angry little rascal, but I'm sure he just needs a little extra love and care. I think you're up to the challenge."

You nodded excitedly and cradled the carrier close to your chest, briefly peeking in to smile at your new pet.

"Are you sure you can give me all this? How much do I owe you?" You were struck with sudden concern. All these supplies must be expensive.

Inko simply laughed and waived your concerns.

"It's alright. On the house. It's the least we can do considering you're taking care of Tomura for us."

You nodded and adjusted your grip, shielding the carrier with your coat as you exited the store. It wasn't until you were half a block away that you realized she had said we.

You decided it wasn't a thought worth exploring right now, especially because you had to get Tomura somewhere warm soon. He did have the fluffiest fur you'd ever seen, but you wouldn't wish this cold on anyone. You hugged his carrier to your chest, stubbornly plodding on, wagon handle cold in your other hand. You quickly regretted rushing out without gloves that morning.

Any complaints died on your tongue when your apartment building came into view. Excitement was the main emotion filling you when you remembered that the heater would be on when you entered. When the door slid open, you gave a sigh of relief as a wave of warm air hugged you. Pulling the wagon inside, you shut the door and carefully placed the carrier on the coffee table. You shed your jacket and sat criss-cross on the floor, elbows resting on the table and chin in your hands as you gazed into the carrier.

"Sorry about the bumpy ride, but we're home now. I'll get your cage set up in a jiffy! I want to get you settled so you can relax. No more anxious scratching, okay?"

Tomura simply narrowed his eyes at you from the corner of the carrier where he had retreated when he felt the cage level out. He didn't care what you did, so long as he would be left alone. He had plans to make in order to escape, and that meant you needed to leave him alone.

Tilting your head, you smiled and blew him a kiss before hopping up to paw through the supplies you had been given. The wagon was well stocked. A box rested at the bottom that held all the pieces you needed for the cage. Also included was a bag of timothy hay, pellets, bedding, some treats, food and water bowls, and exercise wheel, a little structure for him to hide in, wood and mineral chews, a bag of dust, a cool little bowl for the dust bath, and a variety of toys that you hoped he enjoyed. It looked like Mrs. Midoriya had really thought of everything!

You focused on setting up, humming to yourself as you worked. Cycling through a variety of video game themes, you jumped as you heard the door rattling on the carrier. You turned back to look just as Tomura retreated further into the cage. Apparently, he had gotten closer to the door and accidentally jostled it in the process.

"I'll be done with your cage soon, dusty boy. Then you can stretch your legs to your heart's content."

He watched you get back to work, not realizing that it was the humming that had drawn his attention. Tomura didn't have a high opinion of most people, but he liked video games. And apparently so did you. His opinion of you had risen. Not by much, but a tiny bit.

Once the cage was done, you were faced with the difficult task of transferring your new pet into it. Hopefully, he would be as calm getting taken out of the carrier as he was being put into it. As luck would have it, it was as easy as putting the entrance of the cage against the opening of the carrier with both doors open. It didn't take long for Shigaraki to scurry inside and hide in the little structure that was there specifically for that purpose.

After shutting the cage, you allowed yourself to stretch. Rolling your neck yielded quiet cracks as the tension of the day caught up to you. You gave the cage a tired smile before standing.

"Sleep well Tomura. Tomorrow is a new day."

With that, you turned off the light and retreated to your bedroom. Once you finished your nightly routine, you settled into bed. For a while, you thought about how best to care for Tomura. He would be difficult to get to open up, but you were determined to love him and make him feel cared for. The anger he carried might be from a past owner, and you were determined to help him. Consumed by a fluffy comforter and assortment of pillows, you let sleep carry you away from consciousness.

~~~~~ The first few weeks were frustrating for all involved. It was definitely a learning curve when it came to caring for Shigaraki. He was antisocial at best and antagonistic at worst. Not to mention he was too smart for his own good in your opinion. He was quick to figure out the doors on the cage, despite his lack of opposable thumbs. This led to quite a few frantic searches on your part. To his dismay though, doors and windows were absolutely beyond his capabilities in this form. That is the predicament he was currently facing when you found him in the morning when you had been getting ready for work.

"Tomu! What on Earth are you doing on the window sill! You're going to get hurt, silly boy!"

Swooping in, you deftly lifted his squirming body into your arms. You gave him a peck on the forehead and he froze. He was never sure how to respond to your affection, so he simply malfunctioned. Error 417, Tenko.exe is unable to meet the requirements for this emotion. You giggled at his reaction and peppered his soft little head with more kisses before carefully placing him back in his cage. Once he was back inside, he put as much distance between the two of you as he was allowed before furiously scratching at his neck with agitation.

You pouted in distress, far from happy about his reaction. You were giving him lots of attention, but it was a slow process to get him to trust you, still the freeze-ups were better than him outright pulling away.

"Tomu, stop that. That's not good for you! You're going to hurt yourself."

His little paws twitched but slowed. Your voice distracted him simply because of the tone you were using. The habit didn't seem to annoy or disgust you as others would often say. Instead, your voice was filled with distress, as if the thought of harm coming to him hurt you as well. This was not a sentiment Shigaraki was used to in the slightest, nor did he know what to do with it.

It took him some time to notice you had left for work. He had been so lost in thought that he hadn't noticed your departure. He was unnerved to discover this bothered him. He wasn't sure why, but he had grown used to your overly affectionate presence. It was infuriating, but he was more content when you were around. Having someone to interact with who purposefully sought him out was nice, even if he told himself it was annoying. The door to the cage slid open with practiced ease. He was irritated by his own reaction, but he didn't want to think about what that meant. The best course of action in his mind was to find a distraction.

As a human, he found himself drawn to video games. He was quite put out to discover your lack of gaming supplies, especially after all the tunes he heard from you that were popular games he enjoyed. Still,  considering his minuscule form, there was no way he could have indulged anyway, controllers are made for human-sized hands after all. Wandering the apartment, he allowed himself to take in your decorations. This was the first time he had escaped from the cage without the intent to find a way to escape the apartment. Now he was able to take everything in without distraction. You had few decorations, almost as if you were scared to make the place your own. He had experienced that many times when he shuffled from hideout to hideout. Not that he had many possessions of his own anyway, his most prized possession was his computer, as it was his escape. Sensei allowed for his gaming habit, purely because of the strategy it taught. For Tomura, it was less of a strategic play than it was a chance to be someone else. Someone people trusted and would treat with respect. The more noticeable and stronger he was in the virtual world, the more people paid him attention. No one would ignore him then.

He shook himself out of his thoughts, continuing to explore. Once he reached your room, he let out a disgusted sound. Of course, you were a hero supporter. He was tempted to see if he could reach the Allmight poster on your wall so he could shred it to pieces. Unfortunately, it was too high of a goal, so he contented himself with chewing a hole in your Allmight hoodie instead when he found it unattended in the livingroom.

That was how you found him when you came back from work. The long day had clearly worn you down. Your hair was messy from where you had run your fingers through it too many times. Hanging your jacket by the door, you placed a small package on the counter before collapsing onto the sofa next to him. Pausing in his attempt to massacre the article of clothing, he was surprised to see you hadn't noticed him. Your eyes were closed and you were clearly exhausted. A groan of weariness and pain escaped from your lips before you finally turned your attention to him. The look on your face was supposed to make him feel smug. Instead, he felt something akin to pain, a raw sort of scraping feeling in the pit of his stomach that made him feel smaller than he'd ever been. He hated it. He never wanted to see that expression on you again if it made him feel like this.

"Tomu, how could you... That's one of my favorites. " Your tone was quiet and disappointed like you wanted to be angry but just didn't have the energy. You took the hoodie from him and pulled him into your lap, setting the jacket aside. It surprised both of you when he let it happen. There was something about you today that he despised. This isn't how you usually acted. You were supposed to be mad! You were supposed to scold him and then make a joke about not knowing what to do with him. He didn't like your quiet, it wasn't you and it wasn't right. His paws rose to his neck as his confused thoughts roared.

A choked sort of whimper came from your chest, all the stress from your day and the concern for him coming together in one pitiful noise. He froze at the sound. Your fingers carefully gripped his paws and moved them away from his neck.

"You stop that. Everything's alright, you're safe here and I won't let anything hurt you, even if it's you. "

To say you had a bad day was an understatement. The cafe had been severely understaffed and you were worked ragged. Most of the customers were not understanding and having worked another hard shift the day before, you were at the end of your rope. When you had finally been allowed to leave for the night, you had been exhausted and dead on your feet. Stopping at a bakery on the way home, you allowed yourself a small indulgence in the form of a single cupcake.  On your way to the apartment, you had almost been involved in a quirk incident by some thief nearby. All this and when you finally were able to get home and relax, your pet had put a pretty noticeable hole in your favorite hoodie. It was one of the first things you had purchased for yourself since you had moved to Japan so it was incredibly important to you. You nearly cried when you saw the damage that had been done. You wanted to scream and rant, but looking down at Tomura, you knew you couldn't be upset with him, not really. He was acting out becuase you weren't home. You were fairly sure he had some separation anxiety. Any anger or hard scolding would do more harm than good. Instead, you focused on what you could do to help him instead. Poor thing was obviously stressed about something. Maybe he could learn from this and not act out to get your attention.

After you were sure he was done scratching, you put his paws down. He was calmer, but you still wanted to be sure he was okay. You carefully ran your fingers through his fur, offering what comfort you could through your touch. He let himself get lost in the sensation, the yelling in his mind quieting to whispers. You were singing now, words washing over him as your voice lilted, a distraction for you as much as for him. He vaguely recognized the tune from a videogame but didn't let his thoughts linger on it, rather enjoying the soft quiet that had come over him.

It was a slow realization, one that took quite some time to get through his thick skull, but that night Tomura realized that he didn't hate you. Far from it. He had grown fond of you without realizing it. He didn't like when you were upset, especially when he was the cause. If he could stop you from ever looking so sad and tired and pained, he would do it in a heartbeat. He told himself it was because your face made him feel strange, but he never stopped to wonder why he was upset that you were upset. Still, this was the start of something that would only grow over the time spent together.

You fell asleep on the couch that night, comforted by the soft fur under your fingertips and the repetitive motion that came with petting him. The stress of the day piled up on your shoulders and the weight buried you so much that gentle waves of exhaustion flooded your mind. Sleep overtook you with little hesitation.

The next day, you awoke with a crick in your neck and pleasant warmth in your lap.  Looking down at Tomura, you couldn't help the fond smile that insisted it makes itself known on your face. He had never willingly let you hold him until last night. And he had stayed. That spoke volumes about how he felt. Your fingers carefully caressed the top of his head as those pretty red eyes slowly opened.  

"Good morning, my sweet dusty boy. Did you sleep alright?"

Shigaraki knew he should get up, but he pushed those thoughts aside. Sensei wasn't here right now to scold him, and he was tired. He could let himself rest in the lap of the pretty lady for just a little while longer and let you call him yours. You made him feel safe and cared for, something he craved. There was this foreign warmth in his chest that he had never had before. But oddly, he wasn't concerned about it. Perhaps it was a powerup he hadn't encountered before. His senses were dulled by the warmth and he didn't feel like moving, the sensation too pleasant to give up. Once your fingers found the fur on this head, his eyes quickly slipped shut again in bliss.

No one had ever done this for him. Physical touch was always some form of discipline, he didn't understand what others gained from it when it was displayed in his dating sim games. But now, he was hooked. Your fingers were so gentle, he didn't know humans could be so gentle. Idly he wondered what your fingers would feel like against his human skin. Would you still be this gentle? Would you still handle him like he was something precious?

would you be scared of him?

His eyes snapped open when he realized where he let his thoughts wander. He couldn't allow thoughts like that, sensei had drilled into him that thoughts like that were a weakness. But still... he burned to know the answers.

"What's got you so quiet, pretty boy?"

Humming, you stood, Tomura securely in your arms. As you headed to his cage, you noticed the box from the bakery you had abandoned on the counter. Switching directions you carefully placed him on the island.

"Want to know a secret?"

The chinchilla curiously smelled the air, whiskers twitching as he smelled the sweet treat you had opened. You gave him a conspiratorial smile before sticking a single candle into the dessert and lighting it.

"It was my birthday yesterday. The first one I've spent alone. Well, you're here, so I guess it wasn't actually spent alone. Thanks for being here for me when no one else was."

Shigaraki felt that scraping feeling in his stomach again. Birthdays weren't things he considered important, but in games, they were treated like great occasions. He had upset you on a day you were supposed to be happiest. This didn't sit well with him, but your words.... they were important. He was here for you. He liked the sound of that.

"Thanks for yesterday, Tomu. I know you don't like being handled, but you let me pet you. I kind of needed that after the day I had. Even though you put a hole in my hoodie, I'm still so so grateful to have you."

Your smile was one of the loveliest things he had ever seen. The warmth from earlier was back and fiercer than ever, overcoming the bitter feeling from before. Even with all the stupid and mean things he had done while under your care, you refused to hate him. In fact, it seems you did the opposite. These thoughts rested heavily on his mind but he let them settle, not wanting to disturb the growing warmth that only you had ever triggered.

Singing softly to yourself, you wished yourself a happy birthday and blew out the candle. Shigaraki took a mental screenshot of that moment, where your smile made all the stress fade away and you were simply happy to be there with him.

~~~~~

Since your birthday, you were pleased to find your little dusty gremlin was warming up to you. It had started slow. He was aloof tentative with you before he softened again. Now he let you hold him all the time and even actively searched you out. Spending time with him was easy and coming home to him was the highlight of your day. Long shifts at your stupid job were going to be the death of you, but it was worth it for those moments spent with Tomura. You had taken to talking with him as if he could actually understand you. Lying on the floor or the couch, you would tell him about your day, absently petting him as dreams and trials alike spilled from your lips. Sometimes, he even gave you reactions that were so human that you had to stop and point it out with a giggle. He hated when you called him cute, but he didn't get all snippy like when you had first gotten him. Now it was just a little annoyed huff and he was back to listening intently. You treasured this time with him and he seemed to look forward to it too, even when you talked about heroes and how much you looked up to them.

~~~~

You had long since given up trying to keep Shigaraki in his cage. The doors were now left open so he could roam as he pleased. He waited for you in the living room, excited to see you after a long day. He had noticed you had been working more hours recently and always came home tired. The way your eyes lit up when you would enter the room and see him made that pleasant warmth glow brighter.  He had given up denying it at this point. The only logical explanation was that he cared about you. Without his noticing, you had raised his affection points, and now... He was hooked. He would do anything for you to make you happy. Sensei would call it a weakness, but Tomura saw it as strength. Adding you to his party as his second in command, his player 2, would benefit both of you. Still, he wasn't human anymore, something he was becoming more and more bitter about as days passed.

He perked up from his thoughts at the sound of your key in the lock at the door. It was late, he noticed. How rude of you to keep him waiting for so long. Crossing the room quickly, he waited impatiently for the smile you always greeted him with. Unfortunately, it was absent as you trudged inside. One of your coworkers told the boss you would cover her shift without confirming it with you first. This led to a frantic text in the morning saying you were late. Because of this, you had gotten chewed out at work because of course, he believed your coworker over you.

You were too wrapped up in your thoughts to even offer Tomura a greeting as you trudged past him. You made sure he had fresh food and water in his cage before throwing yourself on the couch, not having the energy to make it to your room.

Shigaraki quickly scurried over, face set in annoyance by your attitude. He wondered what on Earth had happened to make you ignore him. Going through a mental checklist, he was positive it wasn't something that he had done, so it must have been something that happened while you were out.

Your gaze found his as he peeked over the seat of the couch at you and the tears you had been holding back started to slip. His ears flattened in alarm. Tears? Were you hurt? Hopping up onto the couch beside you, he nosed around your torso, looking for the source of pain. Your arms found his body and you gently curled yourself around him for comfort.

"I don't know what I'm going to do, Tomu. They fired me today."

He stiffened at your words. Even he could see the stress you put on yourself to keep your stupid job. You had no support from family, lived alone, and worked to make sure he was taken care of. You couldn't afford to lose your source of income. It pained him that he could do nothing to help.  Instead of wiping your tears away like he longed to do, he nuzzled against you, a reminder that he was there and you weren't alone, he wasn't going anywhere. Emotions were confusing, and while he still didn't know how to react, he knew that sometimes you had just had to get all the emotions out before anything could get better.

"I'll make sure you're taken care of Tomu. I promise I won't let anything happen to you."

Your breathing slowed gradually after your declaration, energy all but gone as you surrendered to sleep. Shigaraki was in awe of you nonetheless. All this time, you were upset about the possibility of losing him. He was important to you and that mattered to him.

He carefully freed himself from your grip to attempt to drag a blanket over you. Hopping onto the floor, he looked back at your sleeping face. His heart ached to see the dried tear tracks on your face, but he was pleased to see you looked more peacefull now. The warmth he usually felt around you seemed to grow in strength, normally a warm glow, it was turning into an inferno that spread out from his chest. The sensation of liquid fire filling his veins was vaguely uncomfortable and was accompanied by a tinging that turned to pinpricks of static. When he felt like he couldn't take the feeling anymore, it disappeared with a barely heard pop sound.  His limbs felt heavy and as the disorientation faded, he came to an important realization. He was human again. He quickly brought his hands up to his face, he winced at the dry texture under his eyes and the stinging pain that came with the smile that formed. He was back to normal.

A sudden light distracted him from his thoughts.. Your phone lit up with a message displayed on an Allmight lock screen that made him roll his eyes.  He was careful to keep his pinky up as he grabbed your phone from where it  had fallen on the floor. The message displayed was one that set his teeth on edge.

'You left some of your things in the office. You have until tomorrow at 4 to get them or I throw them away. And make sure you have someone cover your shift for tomorrow. Just because you're fired, doesn't mean you get to screw us with your shifts. '

Few things made Tomura as angry as the message from your exboss did. How dare they treat you as if you had inconveinienced them by being fired! His player 2 was levels above this, this slime. How dare he talk to you like that? White hot anger filled his veins as emotions overpowered him. His fingers twitched as he resisted the urge to scratch his neck. He decided what his first quest should be with his body back.

He didn't notice your wide eyes peering at his back from your spot on the couch. You had noticed his warmth leave you earlier and watched his transformation with stunned shock. You quickly snapped your eyes shut when he started to turn back to you, coaching your expression into one of false sleep.  A blanket was carefully tucked around you. His fingers ghosted over your cheek, gently brushing the hair from your face with a featherlight touch. You only allowed yourself to open your eyes again when you heard your bedroom door shut. Your pet... He was a man. Not only that, but he was a famous villain. You could barely process this. Your gaze jumped up when he exited your room, donning your largest pair of sweatpants and a black tank top that rode high on his hips. He grabbed the closest jacket, the allmight hoodie you were so fond of, and he slipped out the front door.

There was no way you were letting him get away so easily. He was going to get himself caught out there! You grabbed your phone and hurriedly put on shoes before following him as quickly as you could. It was a miracle you were able to keep up. The man may be skinny and barefoot, but man did he have long legs. It took a while to notice, but you were surprised to see the route was quite familiar to you. Originally, you had thought he'd be headed to a hide out, but instead he led you to your workplace.

Shigaraki looked up at the cafe with distaste. You had worked here a given your all, yet they somehow had the audacity to fire you. It appeared he was right on time. The owner was exiting the building, having finished closing for the night. A dark grin spread over Tomura's face as he closed in on the man, hand extended with full intent to dust the man who had caused his player 2 to be upset. What he wasn't expecting was a hug from behind, effictively halting him from moving forward. He glanced down with irritation before grabbing a wrist from the interlocked hands around his waist. Whoever dared to stop him was a very unlucky soul. He dragged them into an allyway out of sight and whipped around to face them. He froze almost comically when he saw you staring back at him with anxious eyes.

"(y/n)? What are you doing here? " He pulled away from you as if he had been stung, fingers leaving your skin with lightning speed. He could have hurt you, one more finger and you would have been gone. The horror of what he could have done left  his fingers twitching for his neck.

You looked over the man, taking in his pale hair, the red eyes you always thought were so pretty, and the thin frame hidden in an oversized hoodie. You had seen him on tv and in news reports, but they didn't do him justice. He may be a villain, but he was yours. The pieces came together and you let a soft smile form.

"You were after my boss, right?"

He gawked at you. He had almost killed you, and that was what you were concerned about?

"Are you an idiot, girl? You could very likely die by my hands any second. Now is not the time to worry about that insignificant man you just sacrificed yourself for."

You shook your head, hands up in a placating gesture.

"Tomura... calm down. I know you wouldn't hurt me. Sorry for startling you, but as nice as the sentiment is, i'd prefer you didn't murder anyone for me."

He narrowed his eyes.

"You know who I am... You think you could take on a villain by yourself? So arrogant. "

He knew he was self sabotaging, but he had to prove a point. Your reckless behavior could have gotten you killed. Had it been any other villain.. you'd be dead. He needed you to realize the danger you were in. Sure, all he wanted to do in that moment was pull you into his arms, but you should be afraid.

"I do know who you are. I know exactly who you are. You..."

You took a step forward. With each move forward he took a hesitant step back, until it was him with his back against the wall.

"You, are my sweet dusty boy. You are there for me when I'm lowest."

You reach up, one hand moving to cup his cheek as he watches you with wide, uncertain eyes.

"You are mine, and you wouldn't hurt me. Couldn't hurt me."

As you hold his face, you can feel the tension, but your last words to him break something in him. He leans into your touch, letting himself be held in his true form for the first time.

"I know what your quirk does Tomura, but you don't have to worry."

Confusion pools in those ruby eyes before your other hand finds his, all five fingers finding his. A moment of horror filled panic fills his eyes at the touch before he flinches back.

You stepped back and calmly held up your hand for him to see.

"I basically consider myself quirkless, but... I do have one ability. Other people's quirks don't work on me."

You were expecting his relieved expression. What you weren't expecting was the sudden kiss now desperately pressed against your lips. You melted into it, hands going to hold him back as he crushed you to him like a lifeline.

He only relinquished his hold once the need for oxygen demanded it. You looked up at him with that smile that made him so happy.

"Hey, I promised it would be okay, remember? I wouldn't break my promise to you. "

Taglist:

@witch-o-memes

@nightlygiggless

@ravensfeatheruniverse

[animatedarchives]

LIFELINE

— 𝐊𝐎𝐙𝐔𝐌𝐄 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐌𝐀

author’s note: so i had this dream a few days ago and i wrote this self-indulgent comfort fic. if you’ve experienced this before, i’m so sorry for the hurt you’ve been through and i’m here if you need to talk :) i hope you like it <3

genre: BiG aNgsT, comfort fluff wew

warnings: toxic relationship (mental abuse, manipulation, guilt tripping etc.), slightly coarse language

word count: 2.1k words

“Argh, I missed again!” you whined, the water gun gently hitting your thigh as you swung your arms down in defeat. You only had one last chance to knock all 5 metal cans over, and you knew you’d never make it. You sighed as you glanced at the life-sized teddy bear you’d been playing for, reluctantly giving up the idea of ever being able to hug its plushy form. Kenma watched you silently, gazing at you the same way you were looking at the bear: with intense longing.

“Here, let me,” he said gently, reaching for the water gun in your hand. His fingers briefly brushed yours and your breath hitched, turning away slightly so he couldn’t see the blush creeping onto your face. You had both been friends for the longest time, but you knew it was more than that. Although neither of you had explicitly confessed, there was a silent understanding that you both harboured feelings for one another, but were too shy to do anything about it.

You watched sheepishly as he brought the gun up against his shoulder, looking into the crosshairs. His eyes fixed themselves on his target, pupils narrowing into cat-like slits. You loved seeing the competitive side of Kenma. The resolve in his eyes, the fierce air of determination and the silent power he held was so different from his usual nonchalant self, you couldn’t help but be allured.

Finally, he pulled the trigger, releasing five precise spurts of water. You barely had time to process what happened as you heard the metal cans clattering to the ground. His muscles relaxed and he smiled with satisfaction, his usual laid-back self returning while you stood there in utter disbelief.

“Kenma, that was amazing!” you exclaimed, turning to face him. He watched as your eyes sparkled, a soft chuckle leaving his lips. It was a sight that warmed his heart, and something he missed so dearly. Reluctantly tearing his eyes from yours, he turned back to the stall owner to claim his prize.

“I’ll take the bear, please. The big one in the back,” he said, pointing to the one you wanted. You squealed in delight as Kenma retrieved the toy and handed it to you. Bursting with child-like joy, you pressed your face into its large squishy head as you hugged it, your body swinging from side to side. Kenma watched you amusedly, unable to wipe the smile off his face. He loved seeing you like this, the brightness you emanated rivaling that of the sun. Your genuine joy was one of the little things that truly made him happy, and it was blissful moments like this that he wished you could live in forever.

Beaming, you bowed at the stall owner to thank him, eager to explore the rest of the carnival. However, as you turned around, your eyes landed on someone in the distance and your heart seemed to stop. Gone was the excitement bouncing within you, now replaced with an unsettling heaviness. The light in your eyes was being sucked away, dissipating into nothingness. Sensing the air around you shift, Kenma looked at you concernedly, then followed your line of sight. And there stood the person he hated the most, the one who had caused you so much hurt and emotional turmoil for two years: your ex-boyfriend.

“Well well well, look who it is,” he smiled smugly as he sauntered towards you. His eyes flickered to Kenma, who stood behind you, and he laughed bitterly. “Moved on to another boy already? You always were such a slut,” he spat. Kenma tensed up behind you, clenching his jaw and balling his fists. He was never the type to be violent, but your ex’s disgusting remarks made him want to punch that sick smirk right off his face.

“P-please go away,” you whimpered. Your voice was strangled and your chest tightened as the overwhelming scent of your ex’s cursed cologne invaded your nose.

“Awww, but why? You wouldn’t want to break my heart again now, would you?” he pouted in mock sadness.

This was what you dealt with for two years: him taking advantage of your kind heart and twisting it for his own entertainment. He criticised every little thing that you did, from what you wore to who you hung out with. He convinced you that it was your fault you upset him, that it was you who failed to please. You began to question every decision you made, doubting your ability to make the “right ones” and eventually resorting to asking for his permission instead. He had you choking on a leash, but you were too nice, too forgiving, to acknowledge his manipulative ways. You were losing yourself and eventually became an empty shell of the cheerful girl you once were, no longer taking pleasure in the things you loved. It had been six full months since you came to your senses and broke up with him, trying so hard to regain the light you had lost, with Kenma encouraging you every step of the way. It had taken so much time and effort to recover from the toxic relationship. Yet at the mere sight of him returning into your life, everything came undone in an instant.

“What’s the matter, darling? Cat got your tongue?” he hummed. You opened your mouth to protest, but no words came out. You desperately tried to move, to do something to show he no longer held that power over you. But your mind was plagued, and your body remained frozen in the presence of your abuser.

“Oh darling, there’s no need to be scared,” he said, cocking his head to the side. He took a step forward and you couldn’t help but tremble in fear. Dark memories from the past you tried to bury resurfaced as his menacing gaze bore into you. You shrank back in terror and your back hit Kenma’s chest, causing your hold on the huge teddy bear to loosen. The impact pulled Kenma out of his heated thoughts, his eyes clearing to reveal the pointed daggers within them. He gently wrapped an arm around your waist and twisted your bodies so that he was between you and your attacker.

“That’s enough,” Kenma’s words cut through the toxic atmosphere. The change in his demeanour was subtle but terrifying. His voice remained quiet, but now held an edge that was sharper than a sword. His gaze pierced through your attacker, cutting him down to the bone.

Your ex scoffed, unintimidated by Kenma’s physical build. “No, she knows exactly what she did,” he hissed, looking straight into your eyes. “You love to toy with people don’t you darling? Go on, say it. Admit it, you bitch!”

You don’t recall the mistake you made; you only knew that you’d made one. A baseless sense of guilt consumed your mind, and all you could think of was how horrible of a person you were as you looked down at the ground in shame. The lack of words leaving your mouth angered him further. He took a step towards you, but stopped short as Kenma suddenly grabbed his forearm.

“I said,” his grip tightened as anger boiled inside of him.

“That’s enough.”

Kenma looked at him through the strands of hair that fell across his face. He was like a feline crouching behind the tall, dry grass, eyes fierce and unblinking as he stared down his prey. His unrelenting gaze made even your ex shudder, his mind going blank as Kenma seethed silently.

“Leave.”

Kenma’s voice was practically a growl at this point, the finality in his voice apparent. His golden orbs glowed like a predator’s, daring your ex to challenge him. Although no one said it, it was obvious Kenma owned the court and held the game in the palm of his hands.

Knowing he was beat, your ex yanked his arm out of Kenma’s iron grip and scoffed. “Whatever. You’re worthless, anyway,” he sneered at you before walking away. You didn’t know what you did, but you felt like you deserved it. That’s all you ever were anyway: just another piece of garbage.

With the threat no longer present, Kenma eased up and turned to you, significantly concerned for your mental and emotional wellbeing. “Are you alright?” he asked, unable to hide the urgency in his voice.

“I- I think so,” you stuttered. But you weren’t. You knew you weren’t. You were slipping again, back into your old submissive mindset as your head spun with your ex’s lies. And Kenma could see it, the thought of your incited self-hatred causing his knuckles to turn white.

“You deserve so much more than him, Y/N,” he said. You smiled weakly at his words but couldn’t bring yourself to agree.

“I don’t know… Maybe he’s right,” trying to keep your smile, only to fail miserably. “Maybe I really am worthless… Maybe I’m just an awful human being… Maybe…” you thought aloud, voice breaking as you started to believe his words. This experience took you back, remembering how your ex would constantly poison your conscience, leaving you to cry into your pillow every night as your thoughts consumed you alive.

“Y/N, stop,” he said, reaching for your arm. You flinched involuntarily, the action causing Kenma’s heart to break. “Y/N, look at me. Please,” he begged. You slowly lifted your head to meet his gaze, a thin film of moisture forming over your eyes as you slipped further into darkness.

“You are the kindest, sweetest soul I have ever met. You are beautiful and gorgeous, made perfectly as you are. You are the furthest thing from a bad person. He’s a liar, a manipulator and a toxic person overall. He’s the bad one. He’s the one that doesn’t deserve you,” he said, desperate for you to see reason.

You looked into his eyes sadly, searching for something to hold on to, to stop you from spiraling down deeper into your thoughts. And then you found it. Something that was different between him and your ex. Something that was always there but Kenma tried to hide. It was his unwavering love for you.

Something finally clicked and a spark was ignited between you two, causing your heart to beat faster. You could barely understand what was happening, too many things going on in your head at once. But one thing was certain. You knew the person in front of you was genuine.

Trustworthy.

Safe.

“Kenma… I…” your words lost their sound as your faces inched closer. Your eyes drifted down to his soft, thin lips. Your mind was screaming at you, saying that you didn’t deserve his affection and that you were completely unlovable. But your heart argued back, eager to prove them wrong as it reached out for the one it knew it could call home.

You watched earnestly, breath caught in your throat as his lips got closer and closer to your own. Finally, your eyes fluttered shut, your sight unneeded as you savoured the flavour of his sweet lips against yours. The bear you were holding was long forgotten as your fingers unfurled and dropped it to the floor. Your heart was now set on a new prize, your hands moving up his arms and clenching the fabric of his jacket underneath them.

Your reciprocation to his actions made him brave; he kissed you harder, more intensely, as he rested his palms firmly on the curve of your waist. It was an area tainted by the hands of your previous boyfriend, but Kenma’s touch was so pure, so gentle, and so loving, that all you could do was melt into his hold.

Your lips parted all too soon and he rested his forehead against yours, quietly gasping for air. The jarring voices in your head quietened and eventually disappeared as Kenma’s delicate fingers intertwined themselves with yours.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” he chuckled, his warm breath adding to the heat on your cheeks. “I love you, Y/N. Every single piece of you. You are absolutely perfect in every way imaginable and I don’t ever want you to believe otherwise.”

You gave a genuine smile as you grasped onto the lifeline of hope Kenma was throwing out to you in the sea of darkness. You wrapped your arms around his torso and buried your face into his shoulder.

“Thank you. I love you too, Kenma.”

Your muffled whispers against his clothes put a gentle smile on his face, his heart soaring as you returned his affection. Kissing the side of your head, he embraced you tighter, wanting to show you how deeply you could be loved.

Breathing in his comforting scent, you came to a realisation.

It wasn’t the bear you longed to hug the most that day.

It was Kenma.

© written and published by animatedarchives 2020. please do not steal or repost. thank you.

[writersofdestiel]

Recently, we did a little reboot of our Weekly Words. You will find the details on our Discord Server. Meanwhile, we rounded up all the amazing fics that were created for Weekly Words in the year and a half since the challenge was created.

Time Flies by @deansrightfulangerissue, prompt: time flies

It's been ten years since Cas went to fight Heaven's war. Today, he's coming back. (Rated T, 0.5k)

Ash by @deansrightfulangerissue, prompt: rise from the ashes

Dean's shoulders tremble as they watch the flames devour everything he and Cas have built together. (Rated T, 1.1k)

Fate by @galaxystiel, prompt: rise from the ashes

“C’mon, it’ll be fun,” Dean tugged Castiel towards the storefront. “Don’t you want to find out who your soulmate is? Who you’re fated to be with?” (Rated T, 1.3k)

Equals by @galaxystiel, prompt: white wings

Castiel has one shot, and if it involves punching Crowley in the face? All the better. (Rated T, 1.3k)

Naps for Dogs and Men by @envydean, prompt: white wings

The golden retriever has been coming to Castiel's house for several weeks, taking a nap and then going back on his way and Castiel finally sends a note to his owner. (Rated T, 1.5k)

Runs in the Family by @deansrightfulangerissue, prompt: white wings

Dean's new boyfriend, Cas, has been wary about him meeting his child, Claire. Dean gets it, they've only been seeing each other for a few weeks. What Dean doesn't know is that Cas might have more reasons for worry than just a premature attachment. (Rated G, 1.4k)

The End and the Beginning by @deansrightfulangerissue, prompt: shooting star

There is only one way for Cas to escape The Empty's reach. (Rated T, 1.0k)

What Do You Wish For? by @envydean, prompt: shooting star

Dean, Cas, and their senior high school friends are on their annual camping trip. The sun has set and Cas wants some space to reset himself after a lot of socialising and Dean joins him. (Rated E, 1.5k)

Fearful by @deansrightfulangerissue, prompt: maze

It comes for children, it feeds on their fears. Dean and Cas arrive to end its reign of terror. (Rated T, 1.4k)

All Those Summer Nights by @deansrightfulangerissue, prompt: tell me more

It was the best summer of Dean's life - spent on relaxing, parties and fun. And most importantly, spent with a blue-eyed boy he met one day on a beach. But the summer's over now, the school year begins, and Dean's left with the memories of his first summer love. (Rated T, 1.4k)

Tell Me More by @thunderthighsmish, prompt: tell me more

“Good night, Dean. I’ll see you in 2 days. Be a good boy for me?” “I will,” Dean promised. “I love you.” (Rated E, 0.8k)

For Better Or Worse by @deansrightfulangerissue, prompt: through the fire

When they first meet, Cas saves Dean from school bullies. Over the years, their friendship only grows stronger. (Rated T, 1.4k)

Missing Piece by @fangirlingtodeath513, prompt: missing piece

Castiel and his garrison are given the assignment to rescue the Righteous Man from Hell. (Rated T, 0.8k)

Look What The Cas Dragged In by @deansrightfulangerissue, prompt: flowing teardrops

There’s a guest in the bunker. Dean’s nose is not a fan. (Rated G, 1.0k)

Teardrops For You by @envydean, prompt: flowing teardrops

The accident killed her and left Dean alive and emotionally broken. He's a disgrace. His best friend is dead and he can't even cry for her. (Rated T, 1.5k)

Christmas Sweaters In June by @envydean, prompt: ugly sweater

“Love,” Cas says suddenly in his ear. It makes Dean’s heart jump and his lungs constrict. “Wha-what?” Dean stutters, head turning to Cas whose eyes are still fixated on the screen. “L-O-V-E. Love, it’s the one you’re missing from this round.” Dean looks back down at his screen and sees Cas’ finger linking the letters together. “Oh,” Dean breathes. (Rated T, 1.5k)

Will You Bee my Valentine? by @gii-heylittleangel, prompt: ugly sweater

Dean's tradition on Valentine's Day was always to go out and look for someone to spend the night, but this year he decided to stay home, which was his best decision. (Rated G, 1.1k)

I've Never Wished for Anything more than You by @gii-heylittleangel, prompt: i wish

Dean has lost many people before—it’s practically a normal thing in his line of work—but none of them hurt as much as Castiel’s death. Especially because Dean is sure there’s no possible way for the angel to come back again. Or so he thought. (Rated G, 3.0k)

A Drive Under the Moonlight by @gii-heylittleangel, prompt: moonlight

Dean has had a lot of fights with Sam—growing up so close together can do that—but sometimes he just can’t stand being near his brother, so he just takes Baby for a drive until his head gets clear. (Rated G, 2.5k)

Cas Loves Emoticons, Burgers, and Dean by @gii-heylittleangel, prompt: emoji

Cas has always known that his husband can be a real pain most of the times, but he brings burgers so Cas always forgives him. (Rated G, 1.1k)

Dean + Alcohol = Loose Lips by @gii-heylittleangel, prompt: too many beers

Dean has done some pretty stupid things while being drunk—there are some he would even rather not think about. But when he wakes up that morning, he’s pretty sure that what he did last night will be on his Top 3: after almost a decade of hiding his feelings from Cas, he just practically wrote them on a brick and threw it on his best friend’s face—or maybe that would’ve been a little more subtle than what he did. (Rated T, 4.3k)

Intoxicated by @envydean, prompt: too many beers

Cas finds Dean drunk in the fourth bar he searches after Dean sends some worrying texts to him. Dean has surpassed his flirty, chatty self and fallen headfirst into feeling utter desolation. It leaves Castiel to pick up the pieces. (Rated T, 1.4k)

The Case of the Missing Paper by @gii-heylittleangel, prompt: origami

Dean has always been sure the bunker is haunted, even when everything pointed to the fact that it’s not. But when all of the paper in the bunker starts to go missing, Dean starts to think that maybe he’s right or there’s someone messing with him. (Rated G, 3.6k)

A Lost Teddy Bear and a New Found Love by @gii-heylittleangel, prompt: stuffed animal

Dean has always been very responsible, especially when he needs to take care of his niece, Mary. But when they can't find her stuffed animal (a Stitch that's a few years younger than Sam), Dean starts to panic, not knowing what to do. Good thing the hot neighbor comes to save the day. (Rated G, 4.7k)

Meeting Emma by @deansrightfulangerissue, prompt: stuffed animal

Dean’s pacing the hospital corridor like some nervous expecting father. After all, that’s who he is right now. And the daughter he didn’t know he had will be here any moment. (Rated G, 1.9k)

Ambiguitatis Error Est by @fangirlingtodeath513, prompt: i miss how you were here

Dean's pulling away from his close-knit friend group and Castiel is determined to find out why. If he finds some other things out along the way, he won't complain. (Rated G, 1.6k)

Up On The Rooftop Greenhouse by @envydean, prompt: fighting destiny

Michael Shurley is Dean Winchester's true mate. Except, Dean has been in love and dating the Winchester house gardener, Castiel Novak, for nearly three years and Dean doesn't want that to stop. He needs to find a way out of the impending wedding before it's too late, especially when Michael shows his true colours. (Rated T, 5.0k)

With Eyes Wide Open by @gii-heylittleangel, prompt: insomnia

Insomnia wasn’t one of Castiel’s favourite parts about humanity, but he loved what he could do in that free time—which, most of the time, involved Dean. (Rated G, 0.9k)

Cheer-Up Food by @gii-heylittleangel, prompt: baking

Cas and Sam decide to make a pie for a grumpy Dean. (Rated G, 1.4k)

If Castiel Was A Cake by @envydean, prompt: baking

Castiel comes home to a stressed Dean baking a lot of cakes. So, he decides that a gathering of friends is the best way to keep Dean's mind off everything and it comes with a bonus extra Castiel has been waiting on for years. (Rated T, 2.0k)

As Many Kisses As You Want by @gii-heylittleangel, prompt: kiss me

Dean gets really hurt in a hunt and Castiel has no idea what he's supposed to do. He really doesn't. (Rated T, 4.4k)

Kiss Me by @peanutbutterjelly-pie (Aleakim), prompt: kiss me

Dean’s spur-of-the-moment ideas aren’t always the best, as lots of people are able to attest. And his last one really took the cake. Because now he’s unable to forget the taste of Castiel’s lips and he’s got no freaking clue how to deal with this. (Rated T, 4.2k)

The Dare On Your Lips by @envydean, prompt: kiss me

Dean Winchester has had the biggest crush on Castiel, but believes that Castiel isn't interested. Then on one drunken night, Dean is dared to kiss Castiel. (Rated T, 1.5k)

Not According To Plan by @peanutbutterjelly-pie (Aleakim), prompt: proposal gone wrong

A fire truck, a smoky kitchen and an unexpected surprise are awaiting Dean after coming back home from work. (Rated G, 1.7k)

Proposal Gone... Right? by @fangirlingtodeath513, prompt: proposal gone wrong

Dean's been planning this proposal for a long time, but on the day he's actually supposed to propose, nothing seems to go his way. Will he actually manage to propose without everything falling apart? (Rated G, 1.1k)

[freddiesaysalright]

Part of Your World - Chapter 2

Ben!Prince Eric x Mermaid!Reader

Summary: Prince Ben is trying to escape an arranged marriage. A young mermaid wants to escape the sea. Their paths cross and they may just be what the other is looking for. 

Word Count: 4.6k

Tag List: @psychosupernatural​, @someone-get-a-medic​, @bensrhapsody​, @deakyclicks​, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession​, @minigranger​, @crazyweirdocalledfriday​, @the-moving-finger-writes​, @assembledherethevolunteers​, @rose-writes-prose​, @queenlover05​, @26-7-49​, @drowsebaby​, @im-an-adult-ish​, @queen-paladin​, @rogerina-owns-me​, @mirkwoodshewolf​, @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye​, @radiob-l-a-hblah​ If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: Y’all I’m sorry this chapter took so long. See this post for everything that’s been going on in my life 

Warning(s): Mild descriptions of violence

Moodboard

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 here we go!!!

“What was that?” Ben wondered, sitting up a little straighter. 

“Not sure,” Ari replied, releasing Kay and getting to her feet. 

Ben followed suit and they walked over to the ledge together. Neither of them noticed the mermaid pressing herself up against the side of the ship, holding her breath and praying they didn’t look down.

Behati emerged from her quarters and walked out to join the crew. She had one hand behind her back.

“Eric,” she said. 

Ben turned to face her.

“If that really is your name,” she said.

The color drained from his face. “What are you talking about?”

“I found this among your things,” she replied, and brought her hand forward. She held up his ring. “The crest of the royal family is on it.”

While Ben had not worn any jewelry during his escape, he had packed his ring just in case he needed it. It was an heirloom worn by every prince in his father’s line. It was silver, with mermaids on the side, holding up the crest in the middle. There were diamond chips on the four corners of the crest, and the mermaids had tiny emeralds for eyes.

“You had no right to go through my things!” he argued. 

“You are a guest on my ship!” she shot back. “I had every right. Who are you? The prince? A lord? Who?”

“There are other things to worry -”

“Whoever is on that ship can wait until morning when we can see,” she snapped. “Tell. Me. Who. You. Are. Now!”

Ben shrunk away, his back hitting the ledge. 

“Okay,” he conceded. “You guessed right. I’m the prince.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “So. Benjamin is your name.”

From below, your heart gave a flutter. Prince Benjamin. What a handsome name!

“Ben’s fine,” he said nervously. 

“Well, Ben, we’re taking you home,” she said firmly. “I won’t be followed and charged with kidnapping the prince.”

“No, please!” Ben cried. “I can’t go home yet!”

“Why?” she demanded.

He hesitated, looking away for a moment. He locked eyes with Ari, who placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“She can’t understand if you don’t explain,” she said. “And she can’t trust you unless you trust her.”

He looked back at Behati.

“My father is forcing me to get married,” he admitted. 

You stiffened at that word. Married?! That wasn’t good news for you.

“He keeps bringing all these princesses and high born ladies to visit, hoping I’ll fall for one of them,” he went on. “But they’re all...dreadful. And he’s sort of run out of options now.”

Behati softened. She approached him slowly, took his hand, and pressed the ring into his palm. Then she curled his fingers around it.

“Was being honest really so hard?” she teased. Then she became serious. “Ben, I understand wanting to escape. Probably better than most people. I hope you’re not under the impression that I lack empathy or compassion.”

“It’s just...I don’t know you very well yet,” he chuckled.

“Know this,” she said. “I don’t turn my back on people in need. Being forced into a marriage...that’s terrible. Even princes have their share of trouble, eh?”

It was such a dramatic shift in her, it was throwing Ben off balance. Behati had become suddenly very soft. Even stranger, he liked knowing that she had it in her.

“They do,” he agreed. 

“You may remain on my ship for as long as you need,” she said. “Or as long as you’re useful.” 

She winked and released his hand. She stood in the center of the deck and looked up at the starry sky. Ben looked as well as he slipped his ring back on. He had never seen so many stars.

“It’s a beautiful night,” the captain said. “There should be music.”

The crew cheered. Ari went to grab her fiddle. Ben shrugged and decided to join the merriment. You pulled yourself forward again to watch. 

You watched them all night, fearful that leaving now meant your last chance to see humans up close would pass. Behati, Ben, and the others played music, danced, drank, told stories, and laughed. It seemed that with honesty, came the beginnings of friendship. It almost made you sick with envy. And yet, you could not pull yourself away.

They carried on all night. The golden hush of the morning came over the water, and the sun began to peek over the horizon. Ben had fallen asleep against the mast, and much of the crew was now lazily plucking at instruments or dozing softly. Behati was still awake. She retrieved a spyglass from a strap on her hip and she looked over at the ship that was approaching from the night. It was time to find out who they were.

She knew almost all the other pirate captains. They had an agreement. Since Behati’s interest was not in riches, they left her alone. In return, she left them alone, but with one condition - they could not trade people. Any pirates she caught dealing in the slave trade would be challenged. And she had never lost a battle.

Ben stirred awake. He looked up and saw Behati checking things out. Relief came over him. He had enjoyed himself during the night, but the concern about the other ship was still eating at him. He scrambled to his feet and walked over to stand beside her.

“Who are they?” he asked. “Do you know?”

Her mouth was turned into a deep frown. She lowered the spyglass, looking ready to spit a bullet. Ben had never seen such anger.

“Slavers,” she said slowly. 

“How do you know?” he wondered.

“The insignia,” she told him. 

She held out her arm and pulled up her sleeve. He stepped back, horrified. The skin was deformed by a deep scar - a brand. 

“Are they other pirates?” he asked.

“No,” she said. “These are the professionals.”

“That’s not right,” he said. “My father outlawed slavery years ago.”

“If you think slavery ended because your father signed a piece of parchment, you are a fool, little prince,” she retorted. “He may have signed the law, but he hasn’t enforced it. The navy is too busy fetching princesses to patrol the waters apparently.”

Ben swallowed as he watched the ship coming closer.

“You know how to use that sword you carry?” Behati asked.

“I’ve been trained,” he told her. “But I’ve never had to use it...y’know...in earnest.”

“Well, brace yourself,” she warned. “We’re commandeering their ship.”

She turned to face the crew. She put her index finger and pinky in her mouth and whistled. Ben flinched at the sharp, high pitched ring, but the rest of the crew perked up.

“Wake up, ladies!” she shouted. “It’s liberation time!”

Everyone immediately got to work. The anchor was hoisted and the sails were opened. You clung to the rope you’d used to climb the ship in the first place and held on as the ship began to move. You were scared, for sure, but mostly you were excited. You just hoped it wasn’t too dangerous.

After what felt like years, the ships were stopped astride each other. You were still firmly on Behati’s, but within a few yards of being sandwiched between them.

Ben looked between Behati’s hard expression and the smirk of the captain on the opposite ship. He was an older man - probably around the king’s age - but with a leathery complexion and an ugly sneer. His hair was gray and frayed at the ends. He had a look in his eye that struck Ben as evil.

“Captain Behati, I gather,” the man said. “I’d say your reputation precedes you, but you’re much more beautiful in person.”

“Shove it,” Behati returned harshly. “Surrender your ship, and I won’t hurt you.”

“‘Fraid I can’t do that, love,” the man replied. “I’ve got cargo to deliver.”

“People aren’t cargo, slaver,” she snapped. 

“Now, we can be respectful, can’t we?” he said. “My name is Captain Reginald, and I -”

Behati interrupted him with a swift drawing of her sword. “I don’t care what your name is. Release your prisoners or I will feed you to the sharks.”

“Not before I introduce you to a friend of mine,” he replied. “Say hello to Davy Jones for me!”

Reginald went for the pistol on his hip. Ben saw that the old captain’s finger went right to the trigger. He whipped it out with surprising speed for his age and immediately squeezed it. Ben dove in front of Behati, and felt the flesh on his right shoulder explode before tumbling over the side of the ship and into the darkness of the sea.

“BEEEEEEEEEN!”

Behati’s cry was the last thing he heard before everything went black.

The sounds of a battle erupted above you. You watched in horror as Ben’s body fell right past you and hit the water with a sickening splash. Without hesitation, you dove in after him. As soon as you hit the water, you saw a small, shiny object glint above him. It was the ring.

You snatched it from out in front of you and slipped it on your finger. Then you swam hard after Ben’s sinking form. With the help of your fins, you reached him quickly, wrapping your arms around his chest, and pulling with all your might. Your muscles ached from the weight of him and the resistance of the water, but you pushed vigorously back toward the surface. You just hoped it wasn’t too late.

When you broke through, Ben began to cough, to your great relief. At least he was alive. Water sprayed from his mouth and he struggled to inhale, but he was alive. His eyes barely opened and he looked at you.

“Thank you,” he said blearily. 

“Come on,” you replied. “We have to get you back on board.”

He mumbled something more that you didn’t understand. The sounds of what was going on up on the ships unnerved you. Swords clanged as they clashed. Explosions rang out - just like the ones that had sent Ben overboard. It was not a sound you were familiar with and it made your stomach flip. People cried out with anger and pain. Others hit the deck with a wound. Would putting Ben back on the ship be safe?

You looked up and saw that the commotion was coming from the other ship, not Behati’s. But if you climbed straight up, you would be seen. So, resituating Ben in your arms, you swam toward the bow to go around Behati’s hip and get him up from the other side.

You started out and Ben let out a soft groan with the movement. 

“I’m sorry, Ben,” you told him desperately. “Hold on just a little longer!”

He muttered some more under his breath. His eyes fluttered as he glanced over to look at you, but he couldn’t keep them open.

Your body was screaming with the effort of pulling him along. Ben was larger than you, and muscular, not to mention all the clothes he had on were weighing him down even more. You were only halfway there and already exhausted. You pressed on. You couldn’t let him die. 

Panting, you reached the other side. Thankfully, there was a net ladder hanging down. You kicked toward it and grabbed a lower rung. 

The wake from the rocking of the ships made emerging from the water more difficult. Especially since your primary concern was keeping water out of Ben’s mouth. The last thing he needed was to swallow a bunch of sea water - or worse, get it trapped in his lungs. 

There was another rope hanging down beside the net ladder. You used that to strap Ben securely to your body. Then you began to climb. It was the most difficult climb of your life. Your arms were on fire with how hard they were working, and it felt like there were miles between you and the top. Grunting, panting, and sweating - which you had never experienced before - you fought your way up. 

After hauling him up you dragged yourself - Ben attached - over the railing. You flopped onto the deck on your side and caught your breath. You gulped in the air and released it heavily, before swiftly getting to work to untie the rope. Your skin was red from it rubbed you raw, but you couldn’t focus on the sting. Ben was lying alarmingly still.

You tossed the rope back over the side and then rolled the prince onto his back. You put your ear beside his mouth. Low, rattling breaths were just barely escaping. 

“Ben,” you said gently, placing a hand on his chest. “Ben, are you in there?”

His eyes slowly opened once more. They were a beautiful shade of green. You held his gaze in that moment, and everything around you seemed to stop. It was just you and Ben, connecting, meeting for the first time.

Then he squeezed his eyes shut, turned onto his left side, and coughed up more water. When he was done, he winced and grabbed his wounded shoulder before falling onto his back once more.

“Wh...who are you?” he wondered groggily.

“Shhh, don’t talk now,” you replied. “Help is coming.”

Ben’s vision was blurry. Your face moved in and out of focus, but he was certain he had never seen you before. He had never seen anyone that beautiful in his life.

You looked around for anyone who could help, but Behati and her crew were all on the other ship. Although, things had quieted down significantly. A majestic form came flying through the air, and you recognized it as Behati. She landed with a loud thud and she looked up, meeting your eyes.

You gasped and threw yourself overboard, hoping she would chalk up what she saw to her imagination. You sailed through the air and twisted yourself into a diving position so you hit the water smoothly. It felt soothing on your hot, aching body. Before you returned to the depths, you poked your head out and listened. You heard Behati rousing Ben. Satisfied, you swam down.

Ben was waking up gradually. He hurt all over. He distinctly heard Behati above him, fretting like a mother hen, but still managing to insult him.

“You idiot, Benjamin!” she scolded. “Getting yourself shot to protect me?! For what? Some chivalrous glory?! I could -”

“Behati, please,” he groaned. “I did it because you’re my friend.”

He looked at her and saw watery eyes and almost smirked, but he was in too much pain.

“It hurts,” he winced.

“Take him to my quarters,” she said.

Ari put his injured arm around her shoulders and eased him to his feet. He looked at the captain.

“What about the captives?” he asked her.

She smiled. “All free. I never lose.”

“Where will they go?” he wondered.

“Home, I suppose,” she said. “I gave them the ship.”

“Did you let any of the slavers live?” 

“All but the captain,” she replied.

“Tell the ones you freed to take the ship to the capital - to my father,” he said. “There the slavers can answer for their crimes, and we can get the people back to their homeland by royal escort.”

Behati’s smile widened and her eyes shone. 

“You really are a prince,” she said. 

“As proof of their authority, let them take this,” he began again, reaching for his right hand.

He blinked when he saw there was nothing on it.

“Oh no!” he cried. “My ring is gone!”

Behati frowned. “It must have come off in the water. I’m so sorry, Ben.”

“S’alright,” he returned. “I have a seal in my bag. Will you write up a document, and I can sign it for you?”

“Kay, write the necessary letters,” Behati said. “Ari, you and I will tend to that wound.”

She put his free arm over her shoulders and together, the women carried him into the captain’s quarters. They lay him upon her desk. Then Behati retrieved some rum from the shelf on the wall. She handed it to Ben.

“You might want this while we stitch you up,” she said.

He sat up and took a swig, making a sour face as it burned its way down his throat. She laughed.

“What’s the matter?” she teased. “Nothing that strong in the palace?”

“No,” he wheezed. “We usually just have wine.”

She and Ari exchanged a look and laughed.

“Keep drinking, little prince,” Behati instructed. “We’ll have you patched up in no time.”

“Bottom’s up,” he replied, and drank again.

***

You rocketed away from the scene as fast as you could swim. When you were safe within the depths, you stopped to catch your breath again. You needed to take in everything that just happened. You snuck to the surface, watched humans for an entire night, just barely saved the prince's life, and now you were on your way home after being gone for hours. Oh, no. You were definitely in trouble again.

Well, you had to face the music. You weren’t going to put it off this time. Plus, the sooner your father finished yelling at you, the sooner you could get some sleep. Your eyelids already felt heavy.

As you made your way home, you kept thinking about Ben and that moment you had locked eyes on the ship. Something electric had sparked between you. There was something there that you could barely explain, and yet you felt it. It wasn’t just that he was handsome, there was more to him than that. You wanted nothing more than to see him again, and know all there was to him.

You slowly swam to the throne room, once again peeking inside to see the kind of mood your father was in. He was swimming back and forth in front of his throne, hand on his chin, eyes on the floor. He was worried.

“Father?” 

He whipped around, took in the sight of you, and flew over to gather you up in his arms.

“Y/N!” he cried. “Where in the seven seas have you been, child?! We’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

He pulled away and looked you up and down. His mouth turned down into a frown when he spotted the angry red marks on your skin from the rope of the ship. They had calmed a lot, but not enough.

“Y/N, what’s this?” he asked. “What have you gotten yourself into?”

“Before I explain, promise me you won’t get mad,” you began.

“I will make no such promise!”

You sighed. It was worth a shot.

“Father, I…” you trailed off. Now was the time to be honest or lie your fins off. “I was exploring another shipwreck.”

Better to lie for now. If he found out what you had done in its entirety, he might kill you.

“Y/N!” he shouted. “We’ve discussed this! You’ve got to let go of your silly dreams of humanity! It’s childish, it’s dangerous, and deliberate disobedience of the law! I think you’re trying to give me a heart attack at this point!”

“I just have an interest!” you shot back, throwing your hands up. “What’s so wrong with that?!”

Your father snatched your wrist out of the water and drew it closer to him. You gulped. You’d forgotten Ben’s ring was on your finger.

“What...is this?” you father demanded.

“Something I found in the shipwreck,” you told him. “Just a trinket.”

He examined your form once again. “You’re lying to me. This ring has no signs of age on it. Those rope burns were not from loose rope. Where have you been?!”

You wrenched your arm free and cradled the ring to your chest. You narrowed your eyes at him.

“I was at the surface,” you said defensively. “And I’m glad I was there. I saved a young man who might have drowned if I -”

“DON’T!” Triton bellowed. “THIS TIME YOU’VE GONE TOO FAR!”

You shrank back, frightened. 

“Father, h-he might have died!” you argued.

“And GOOD RIDDANCE!” he shouted. “What need do we have for one more lousy human, huh?! Do you really think yourself a hero for saving that animal’s life?!”

“He’s not an animal, he’s a prince!” you returned. 

“I’ve tried to be understanding, I’ve tried to be patient with you, Y/N, but nothing works!” he cried, exasperated. “But so help me, I am going to get through to you!” 

“What are you going to do, ground me?” you challenged. “Well, I’m a grown woman!”

“Fine, if you want to be grown and independent of me, then so be it,” he snapped. “Guards!”

Two young mermen swam in from the corridor.

“Arrest the princess,” Triton said. “Take her to the outpost.”

You gasped. “Father, no!”

The outpost was an open area far away from the palace. Prisoners were chained by the fin to a solitary post hammered into the ocean floor. It was isolating and terrifying. 

“You broke the law, Y/N,” your father said. “And you will face the consequences. Anyone who makes contact with humans gets twenty four hours at the outpost.” 

The guards each took one of your wrists and clapped irons around them. You could see the conflict in their eyes as they did so. To arrest a member of the royal family was something unheard of. But your father’s point was to make an impression. And he did.

You shot him one last pleading look, but he turned away. The guards led you out of the throne room, out of the palace, and through the town. The other merpeople watched in shock as the princess was escorted out of her own kingdom. You saw Lorelai as you passed her place and looked away, hot tears forming in your eyes.

You didn’t fight when the guards put a chain on the end of your tail, where it met your fins, and then attached it to the post. One looked on with sympathy.

“We’re sorry about this, princess,” he said. “But if you’d just obey your father, this wouldn’t happen. He’s only trying to keep you safe.”

“Just go,” you said moodily. You had no desire to comfort him about what he was doing, or validate your father in any way.

With a sigh, they left you there. You allowed yourself to break down after that. You were tired, emotional, and just wanted to relax. And now, you were being punished for what you considered as doing the right thing. You gazed at the ring and recalled again Ben’s eyes. As you looked at the chain around your tail, you decided this was worth it. You still did not regret saving his life, and you were more resolved than ever to see him again. As soon as you could. 

But for now, you had to close your eyes. Your weariness was catching up with you. So you laid down and slept off everything. 

***

“Who saved me?” Ben asked as Behati finished the last stitch on his shoulder. Ari had already left to continue her regular duties. 

“What do you mean?” she returned. 

“Someone saved me,” he said. “A woman. I didn’t recognize her but she had to be one of yours, right?”

“Ben, every member of my crew was on Reginald’s ship,” she explained. “No one was on board or in the water.”

“That’s impossible,” he insisted. “I remember someone carrying me...sort of dragging me around...and then when we got back on deck, I saw her.”

“What did she look like?” Behati asked. 

“I’m not sure, it’s all sort of fuzzy,” he said. “But I know I saw her. She spoke to me and everything.” 

Behati took a moment. She saw the mermaid on the ship, caring for Ben and gazing longingly at him. She always knew that mermaids existed, but this was the first one she had ever seen up close. Behati did not want to reveal her in case it meant trouble for the rest of the merpeople. 

“I don’t know what happened, Ben, but when we got back, you were already there and safe,” she said. “No one was around.” 

Ben frowned. He knew what he remembered. Though he could not recall the full picture of the woman, she had to be real. He could not have survived without her. 

“Why is it so important to you?” Behati asked.

“Because something...happened,” he said. “We locked eyes and for a moment, I felt like...never mind, it’s stupid.”

“Ben,” she said assuredly, taking his hand. “It’s not. Tell me.”

“I felt like I’d found the woman of my dreams,” he said. 

She almost smiled, but faltered. “I hope she’s out there, then. I really do.”

***

You woke almost an hour later. As you stretched, you felt...watched. Which seemed impossible since there was nowhere for anyone to hide out here. Even so, you couldn’t shake the eeriness. 

“Hello?” you called out, feeling stupidly cautious. 

“Triton’s daughter,” said a raspy, spine chilling voice. “All chained up on the outpost? How cruel.”

“Who are you?” you demanded. 

You sounded braver than you felt. You did not recognize this voice. 

“I represent someone who can help you, princess,” the voice continued. “Someone who’s been keeping an eye on your situation.”

“Who?” you pressed. 

“Sycoria,” the voice said. 

From the foggy depths, it approached and came into view. It was an eel. The large, yellow eyes blinked at you as it came closer. 

“The sea witch?” you questioned, though you knew the answer. 

“Yes, child,” the eel replied. “She can get you what you want.”

“Why does she care what I want?” you wondered.

“Sycoria has sympathy for all creatures in need,” he explained with an over-kindness that made your skin crawl. “Come with me and see what she can do for you?”

“I can’t go anywhere,” you said. “I’m chained here.”

You pointed to the irons. 

“I’ll make quick work of that,” the eel said.

He flicked his tail and the chains evaporated. The bubbles floated away and you watched them go, amazed. 

“Now, are you coming?” he asked with a toothy grin.

You looked up, remembering the surface. Then you looked at the ring. 

“This may be your only chance to see him again,” the eel said. “Are you willing to let that go out of a little thing like fear?”

You narrowed your eyes. 

“I’ll see Sycoria.” 

“That’s a girl,” the eel said. “Come with me.” 

He swam off. You had to hurry to follow him. A jolt of nerves almost made you stop. But this was your shot at being human, at earning Ben’s love. You would never get another. You forced yourself onward. 

You swam behind the eel for nearly an hour. Finally, you reached a cave. It was glowing an ominous violet color. You came to a halt at the mouth. 

“Don’t be shy,” the eel said. “Go on in.”

You gulped. If your father knew about this, he would lose his head. But, he didn’t understand you. He would never understand that what you felt with Ben in that split second meant the world to you. You entered the cave. 

It was dark at first, but you maintained your pace toward the spooky glow. When you reached the end of the entrance tunnel, it almost took your breath away. It was similar to your collection cove, only much bigger, and filled with more oddities than you could even imagine. Bits and bobs of things you had never seen before. 

“Um, hello?” you said nervously. 

“Ah, the princess,” said another mysterious voice. It was smokey and alluring. 

From around the corner, she entered. The half woman, half octopus sea witch. She was thin and tall, with wild, white hair and vivid purple eyes. Her lips were drawn into a wide smile. 

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

[chaotic-super]

Alien Detected

“How does it work?” Kara asks.

“It's just a simple skin test.” Lena states proudly, smiling at the blonde reporter she has come to care  for. “Let me show you what a negative response looks like.” With that she places her thumb onto the device and waits a couple of seconds for the flashing green light to appear.

“ See?” Kara nods along to Lena's words nervously. “Great, now you try.”

The blonde stares blankly the CEO for a few seconds, her mouth moving to form words that never make it off of her tongue as she glances down at the device held out to her.

“But won't a device like this-” Kara stumbles over her words. “-doesn't it  go against everything America is supposed to stand for?”

“Such as?” Lena perches on the edge of her desk, device placed delicately on the desk so she is able to cross her arms defensively over her chest.

“Freedom against persecution, oppression. America has always been a country full of immigrants.” Kara chuckles nervously.

“It's also always been a country of humans.”

“It's just – don't you think this device will force aliens back into the very shadows the president is trying to shine a light on?”

“If aliens want to be citizens, that's now their right but if humans want to know which of their fellow citizens aren't actually one of them then that's their right too.” Lena looks into Kara's eyes defensively until Kara backs down from the mini stand-off they seem to be caught in and looks away. “I'm a businesswoman. L-Corp is in the business of making money and this device is gonna make us a fortune but unlike my brother I'm gonna do it for the good of the world.”

Lena smiles wearily at Kara as she finishes her speech, turning to sit down back behind her desk so she has a physical barrier between herself and the reporter to help regain her footing after being challenged in a way that made her feel as though her motivations could possibly ever be anything other than good and pure.  

“So?” She picks up the device and holds it out to Kara, who looks rather shaken.

“I-um. I don't know-” Kara stutters out, trying and failing to come up with a reasonable excuse to not have to touch that damn device that could give away her true heritage. A few more stutters leave her mouth as her mind goes blank of any reasonable excuse she could make so her hand slowly begins to make its way toward the small silver device.

She feels as though she is moving in slow motion as she wills someone to interrupt the moment to get her out of there. Her hand hovers over the sensor for a second and she takes a deep breath before she takes the plunge and presses her thumb gently down.

Lena watches inquisitively as the reporter before her begins to stutter and look around nervously. She understands that she may have made her slightly uncomfortable but nothing that should reduce her to the stumbling mess she has become. She is just about to ask her if she is alright when Kara's hand reaches out to the alien detection device and a thumb is pressing down onto it.

It flashes white three times as it analyses the data before turning red. Lena's eyes flick up to Kara's face as she processes the information but the blonde isn't looking back, she's staring at the device as she pulls her hand away from it slowly.

“You're an alien.” Lena states, standing up from her chair and stepping around the desk to stand before her friend.

“I- yeah.”

The CEO tries her best to catch the reporter's eyes but her gaze is fixed firmly on the ground.

“That's why you don't like my device isn't it? You don't want anyone to find out.”

Kara finally looks up and tentatively meets the emerald gaze of the woman before her. “Nobody can find out Lena, please.” She can feel her eyes well up her lips begin to purse up into a pout as she holds her tears at bay. Alex is going to kill her when she finds out that |Lena knows she isn't human.

Lena frowns as Kara's words. “Of course I'm not going to tell anyone and I'm not judging you Kara. I never would and I would have hoped that you'd know that.”

“I'm sorry Lena, It's not you. I know you wouldn't judge me but this isn't something that I tell people.”

Lena doesn't think that she has ever seen Kara look so small; her head turned down toward the floor, her arms crossed tightly across her body and her eyes flickering around the room, unwilling to hold her gaze for more than a few seconds at a time,

“I'm not mad Kara, I promise.”

“Really?”

“How about we go and sit down and talk about this?” Lena steps closer to the Kara, her heels easily making her just as tall as her. She lifts Kara's chin until their eyes meet. “I just want to understand.”

Kara finds herself nodding before she has even thought about it. She knows hat she should get out of there quick sharp but can't help but feel a weight lifted off of her chest now that Lena somewhat knows her truth. She watches as the CEO makes a quick call to Jess, requesting her to reschedule all of her meetings for the rest of the day before flashing her a small smile and gently taking her hand in her own and directing her towards the white couch on the far side of the room.

Lena doesn't let go of Kara's hand as when they sit, she holds it gently on her lap with both hands. “How about we start with the basics?” She waits for Kara to nod before she continues. “How long have you been on Earth?”

Kara clears her throat. “I've been here since I was thirteen. The Danvers adopted me right away.”

“You took their name then?”

“I did.” Lena waits for her to elaborate but she doesn't but doesn't want to push her too hard either.

“Do you like it here?”

“When I first got here I hated it, I never thought that I would be at home here and I still don't a lot of the time but I've found that it's the people that make me feel at home, not the planet.”

“Does that mean that there are more of your people here?” Lena's eyes brighten at the thought of finding out new information on an entire race.

“No.”

“No-one at all?” Lena's voice is soft, caring.

“No-one I want to talk about.” Kara states softly.

“We don't have to talk about them then. What planet are you from?”

“I-” She stammers. She can't actually tell Lena where she is from, she would know about her identity. “I can't tell you.”

“You can't? Why?” Her brows furrow in confusion.

Kara meets her eyes pleadingly. “I really can't tell you anything like that, I'm sorry.”

“You're acting weird about this, what's stopping you? Is someone threatening you?” Lena takes one of her hands away from Kara's and uses it to push some of her golden locks back behind her ear so she can look into the cerulean eyes more clearly. She can't push the worried frown from her face as she waits for the answer.

“I don't really know how to explain this without telling you a lot of things that I have been sworn to secrecy over by the government.”

“The government knows that you're an alien?” Lena leans back into the couch, still clutching at Kara's hand as she tries to make sense of what little information she I getting from Kara. She finds rest bite from her overworked brain in taking in the face of the reporter; the shape of her face, her beautiful golden hair, her beautiful blue eyes and perfect pink lips, the little scar above her brow that looks almost exactly like the one- “Supergirl?”

Kara flinches and pulls her hand away from Lena's as she stands up, ready to bolt.

“Don't leave Kara, please.” Lena follows Kara as she begins to walk to the door and grasps her arm to stop her. “It's true isn't it?”

Kara doesn't answer, just brings a hand up over her face and lets out a muffled sob.

“Oh, Kara. I'm not going to tell anyone, you're still my friend.” Lena gently turns her around to face her and captures her in a tight hug. “Thank you for all the times you've saved me.”

Kara squeezes Lena back with as much force as she dares to without hurting her. “Nobody is meant to know, it can put you in danger and I don't want you to get hurt.” Kara sobs into Lena's shoulder.

“If I'm going to be in danger then I'm glad I've got you, you've kept me safe since the moment I stepped foot in National City and don't think for a second that I'm going to let you avoid me now that I know, especially now that I'm aware of what is hiding beneath those cardigans.” Lena brings her hands up to Kara's muscles and gives them a strong squeeze making Kara let out a choked giggle and pulls back to look into Lena's eyes.

“I've only ever told one friend who I really am and now he doesn't see me as Kara the same way he used to, he looks at me and sees Supergirl. I don't want that to happen again, Supergirl is what I do but Kara is who I am.” Kara wipes away her tears and looks meaningfully into Lena's eyes.

“I think I understand.”

“Can we start over?”

“Of course.” Lena takes a step back away from Kara and pats the non-existent wrinkles out of her shirt.

Kara takes a deep breath before offering her hand to Lena. “Hi, my name is Kara Zor-El and I'm an alien from Krypton.”

“Well hello there Ms. Zor-El, I'm Lena Luthor and I'm a human from Earth.” They smile at each other broadly, giggling at themselves. “I promise I will always see you Kara, even when other people won't.”

“Thank you, Lena. Really, it means a lot.”

“No, thank you.” Kara tilts her head in confusion in similar fashion to that in which a golden retriever puppy would. “You could have lied about who you are, where you are from, but instead you trusted me with your secret even though we have only been friends for a few short weeks, it's been a long time since anyone has trusted me like this.”

“Well, your device kinda took away a lot of my choice but I do trust you Lena, I understand that you are just trying to escape your brother's legacy and make a name for yourself. I knew it from the second I came in your office with Clark Kent and I haven't stopped believing since. In fact, I probably understand better than anybody what it's like being trapped in the shadows of your family.”

“You truly are one of a kind Kara.” Kara blushes at the compliment, making Lena smile. “Now, how about we pick this conversation up again after we go try than new Italian place down the street? On me of course. I think that it will do us both some good to have a little while to think through everything. ”

“Just when I think that you can't get any more perfect Lena Luthor, you surprise me. Plus, now that you know my secret I don't have to restrain myself during our lunch dates and can eat as much as my heart desires and this one is on me because I can't expect you to pay for how much food I'm about to order, heavy conversions make me hungry.”

“When aren't you hungry darling?”

“When I'm asleep.” Lena's laugh ricochets around the office as she grabs her coat and they make their way out.

[thetvmoviefan]

Nabrina FanFics Part 8

Sabrina Spellman & Nicholas Scratch (Nick Scratch) FanFics MASTERLIST

Updated: March 5, 2020 (3/05/2020)

AND so guys we’re back to another hiatus this time we’re waiting for the last part of the season Part 4. How did everyone feel about Part 3, it was definitely A LOT. But every OTP there’s bound to be angst and journey, it only makes them stronger in the end. Anyways, while the show just officially finished Part 4 Filming (2/22/20) we’re all anxiously waiting for renewal and the announcement of when Part 4 will air. Here’s a newly updated list of Current and NEW Nabrina FanFics for anyone waiting for our POWER couple to comeback.

As Always have a Wicked or Hell-ish time with these fics and ENJOY!!!!

Fics in order by Last Update: 3/05/2020

[Key: AU=Alternate Reality - AH=All Human/All Mortal - * = New Fics to List]

1. “If You Let Me”*

Author: bunivy aka @bunivys​

Summary: After pouring all of her time and effort into obtaining a law degree in the city, Sabrina Spellman moves back to Greendale for one last summer before she departs for good. She's fully intent on enjoying her stay in her hometown, even deciding to pick up a part-time job at her Aunt Hilda's cafe to save up some money. The only problem is that the boy in the bookstore across the way is one she's had some not-so-good history with and it's becoming increasingly harder to ignore him. Before long, she finds herself exploring the complexities of old high-school grudges and what-ifs, all while trying to sort out her present-day relationship with the boy she has long since deemed as non-existent.Meanwhile, Nicholas Scratch wonders if it would just be easier to remain non-existent. AU/AH - Rated Mature - Chapters 7/? - Last Update 3/04/2020

2. “When the Bones Are Good”*

Author: sarahkwut

Summary: Sabrina Spellman is enjoying her life as a normal teenager. Sabrina Morningstar is reigning Hell with an iron fist. Ambrose Spellman is searching for a solution to bring them back together and close the time loop, Sabrina's wishes be damned. And Nicholas Scratch? He's faced down his own demons and he's desperate for redemption.Except the clock is ticking.On time and Terrors. (Part 4 Fic) - Rated General - Chapters 1/? - Last Update 3/02/2020

3. “I knew you were trouble”

Author: Miss_Kath90 aka @misskath90​

Summary: Sabrina didn’t know that being away from home for the first time could be so hard.Away from her aunts, friends and her-lifelong-boyfriend, Sabrina have to deal with the nostalgia but also with the new challenges College's life mean: get used to share a room with a not-so-nice roommate, put up with long hours of study and very few of sleep, learn to live from pre-cooked meals instead of her aunt Hilda’s homemade ones, find balance between her studies and her new social life… And resist the temptation a certain Nicholas Scratch mean for her. AU/AH - Rated Mature - Chapters 14/? - Last Update 2/22/2020

4. “I Need to Know”*

Author: raeinthedark

Summary: Love isn't that easy to erase... and that song is on again. Rated General - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 2/29/2020

5. “Cruel Summer”*

Author: thoughtsaboutshows @thoughtsaboutshows​

Summary: A mix between AU and Cannon, where the young members of the Church of Night also attend Baxter High. The young witches and warlocks then go to the Unseen Arts Summer Camp to bolster their gifts. However Sabrina, being half mortal, only began attending after her Dark Baptism. To the mortals of Greendale, Unseen Arts Camp was for the wealthy. An elite sector of the Baxter High youth that attended a camp deep in the Greendale Wood far upstream of Sweetwater River. Many had tried to find and break in, but none have succeeded. To the mortals, the divide between the camp attendees and the not was of money and status. When in fact, the difference lay with light vs. night.Set between two timelines- the present and the summer, Sabrina attends camp for the first time and grows closer to Nick only for them to be torn apart as school starts. Rated Mature - Chapters 4/? - Last Update 2/27/2020

6. “The Institute for Divine Craft”

Author: rayo aka @its-nabrina-bitch​

Summary: After a humiliating spat with Father Blackwood pushes Sabrina away from her witching life and the Academy, Madam Satan crafts an alternative solution to move Sabrina Spellman further down the path of night. Ultimately leading her to the Institute for the Divine Craft. A handsome Headmaster with mysterious ties to her father, convinces Sabrina to abandon her mortal life, and cultivate her abilities as a child of the Church of Lucifer. AU - Rated Mature - Chapters 18/? - Last Update 2/27/2020

7. “My Lover of Blood and Milk”*

Author: Unseemingowl aka @unseemingowl​

Summary: It didn’t feel as though it had only been a few hours since she had made her way to the Greendale woods for Lupercalia. As she sat there, shivering in her muddied and bloodied silk slip, it felt as if a completely different person had made her way back out of the forest...... Or how Sabrina struggles with lust and trust after her disastrous Lupercalian night with Nick. Rated Mature - Chapters 2/4 - Last Update 2/26/2020

8. “Off The Record - One Shots”

Author: sarahkwut

Summary: Missing scenes from completed piece, 'Off The Record.'AU/AH - Not Rated - Chapters 4/? - Last Update 2/23/2020

9. “I hurt myself today” 

Author: ssteelatoms

Summary: After everything he's endured, Nick Scratch decides he can't hold on any longer. Rated Mature - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 2/23/2020

10. “Be True To Your School”

Author: rayo aka @its-nabrina-bitch​

Summary: Nicholas Scratch is the Golden Boy™ of Baxter High; star athlete, top of his class academically, and devastatingly handsome. Sabrina Spellman sees Sophomore year as an opportunity to expand her horizons; joining the cheerleading squad, running for student council, and making new friends along the way while working to maintain her relationships with her old friends. What Sabrina Spellman doesn't know: sophomore year is about to turn her world upside-down. Rated T - Chapters 6/? - Last Update 2/23/2020

11. “Ocean”

Author: sarahkwut

Summary: AU, M-Rated. Nicholas Scratch has everything working in his favor. He's got a decent job as a history teacher, his roommate Melvin is always up for video games and getting high, and Sabrina Spellman lets him mess up her sheets frequently. Sabrina knows Nick isn't good for her, but she can't stay away, no matter how hard it is to pretend she's completely okay with their casual arrangement. But when life takes an unexpected curve, Nick is forced to face a new normal he doesn't know how to navigate. And Sabrina may or may not be there to help him through it. AU/AH - Rated Mature - Chapters 27/27 - COMPLETED 2/10/2020

12. “I’ll be there”*

Author: Miss_Kath90 aka @misskath90​

Summary: She couldn’t stop looking at him, since she had recovered him from the claws of the Dark Lord, she felt unable to be apart from him and had to admit that part of her was afraid he would disappear if she moved from his side. And Sabrina wouldn't let anyone or anything separate him from her again. Never. Rated Mature - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 1/30/2020

13. “Walk away”*

Author: Miss_Kath90 aka @misskath90​

Summary: Pain. Could he someday escape the pain? He sometimes thought it impossible. It was strange, his relationship with the pain, it was an enemy and a friend. The pain numbed him. The pain didn’t let him sleep. The pain hurt him and soothed him. It was unhealthy, the way the pain helped him relieve the pain. But it was the only thing he had left. Rated T - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 1/27/2020

14. “To Hell and Back”*

Author: sarahkwut

Summary: Sabrina was successful in her efforts to retrieve Nick from Hell, but the damage - physical and emotional - is deep. Sometimes, the only way to heal is to go your separate ways and trust things will work themselves out in the end. (Written before Part 3 - an alternate take on how Nick recovers from his time in Hell - with and without Sabrina). Rated Mature - Chapters 3/3 - Last Update 1/26/2020

15. “The Morning(star) After”*

Author: rayo aka @its-nabrina-bitch​

Summary: A Painful NickxSabrina Reunion Rated T - Chapters 1/3 - Last Update 1/24/2020

16. “My only love sprung from my only hate”

Author: filmharlot

Summary: High School AU where Nick is based on the version of him that Sabrina creates in her dream during the Batibat episode. Harvey and Sabrina have broken up and don't want to work together on the Romeo and Juliet assignment in Drama class, so she ends up being partners with Nick AU - Not Rated - Chapters 8/? - Last Update 1/19/2020

17. ”Ground Beneath Her Feet”

Author: mindlesshappy aka @feministstree​

Summary: Sabrina is born out of a miracle - one that she wishes would repeat for her, but when she is destined for someone else, how much can she resist before her heart decides to give in. Alternatively, Nick is Sabrina's soulmate, but she really just wants Harvey to be it. Also, in the backseat are all the other possible ships, getting their own soulmate glories. Rated T - Chapters 17/? - Last Update 1/17/2020

18. “A very witchy Christmas”*

Author: Miss_Kath90 aka @misskath90​

Summary: Just a bit of silly Christmas fluff that I couldn’t help but write, placed in the series universe after a huge jump in time. Not Rated - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 12/25/2019

19. “Mortal Little Christmas”*

Author: HeartsInJeopardy 

Summary: ‘Twas the night before Christmas – and the first for Nick Scratch - but Sabrina’s holiday movie was not a good match. Rated T - Chapters 2/2 - Last Update 12/21/2019

20. “Lessons in the Unseen”

Author: bunivy aka @bunivys​

Summary: Academy Teachers AU. Sabrina Spellman lives as simple a life as a half-mortal half-witch can. Despite her dislike for the headmaster, she enjoys spending her time teaching Ritual Magic at the Academy of Unseen Arts, hoping to positively shape the minds of young witches and warlocks. However, with the sudden dreadful announcement of her aunt Zelda's engagement and the appearance of one mysterious - and strikingly handsome - Nicholas Scratch, Sabrina finds that her life is not so simple anymore. Or all that safe. AU - Rated Mature - Chapters 32/32 - COMPLETED 12/17/2019

21. “Just a Little Obsessed”*

Author: eyerys

Summary: Nicholas has developed a tinie-tiny crush on Sabrina. Nothing like major or whatever. It's not like he thinks about her all the time or daydreams about what it would be like to be with her or how cool she is. No, not at all.Sabrina doesn't have a crush on Nick. No, not at all. Uh-uh. She has Harvey. Sweet and loving Harvey Kinkle. But for some reason, she can't help but find her mind wandering. Rated T - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 12/13/2019

22. “As The Moon Rises”*

Author: venzaren

Summary: Sabrina Spellman is tired.Tired of living a double life. Tired of facing discrimination at the hands of her pack. Tired of dealing with her status as an Omega. And most of all, she's tired of people hounding her about finding her mate.Then Nick Scratch returns to Greendale. AU - Rated General - Chapters 1/? - Last Update 12/07/2019

23. “Thirteen Memories”

Author: tempestbreak

Summary: (Set at the end of Season 2) Sabrina and her friends go to Hell and rescue Nick -- but what happens when that's the easy part?It turns out, having the Dark Lord inside your mind for months can do some damage, and Nick comes back different. His memories of the events leading up to his sacrifice, including his relationship with Sabrina, are gone. How can Sabrina help him regain his memories of their time together when she's not even sure she trusts her own? Rated Mature - Chapters 6/? - Last Update 11/02/2019

24. “But The Greatest Is Love”

Author: sarahkwut

Summary: The acheron captured Lucifer Morningstar, but their problems are far from over. The coven is decimated, the Church of Night is no more, Father Blackwood is on the run, and Nick and Sabrina's relationship is in ruins. How do they pick up the pieces and move on? There are more questions than answers and the consequences could be of biblical proportions. Rated Mature - Chapters 25/25 - COMPLETED 10/28/2019

25. “Back to You”

Author: nadiaselite

Summary: Sabrina brings Nick back from hell. Rated T - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 10/11/2019

26. “The Open Road”

Author: paradiamond

Summary: Nick wants her back, and he’s willing to do whatever it takes. In fact, he insists on it. Rated T - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 9/22/2019

27. “The words “I love you” aren’t enough”*

Author: Miss_Kath90

Summary: “Look at me, Nick” he was reluctant but when he finally looked up she took his face in her hands making him unable to look away “What you did that day… Nick, you sacrificed yourself for my sake, even when I mistreated you and told you all those horrible things. You did it for me, because you love me… Don’t you see? You’re incapable of being evil.”Or... Sabrina gets her boyfriend back but things don’t go as smoothly as she thinks they will. Rated Mature - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 9/22/2019

28. “Mission: Let’s get my boyfriend back”

Author: My_Evak_Heart

Summary: Sabrina and the Fright Club ventures on their first mission: getting Nick back from Hell Not Rated - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 9/7/2019

29. “Jealousy is a killer”

Author: Melissa1226

Summary: Will Sabrina and Nick Start something new? and who is watching them from the shadow full of jealousy? Rated Mature - Chapters 8/? - Last Update 8/28/2019

30. “The Jock”

Author: mikaila_ealum

Summary: An Alternate Universe where Nicholas Scratch is Baxter High’s quarterback along with one of the most popular boys at school. With few knowing the truth, Scratch is living a double life as a warlock at the Academy of Unseen Arts. Sabrina takes a hiatus from the Academy to get more in touch with her mortal side. When Sabrina gets back she becomes partners with Nicholas for a project in theatre class. AU - Chapters 8/? - Last Update 8/07/2019

31. “act 5, scene 2 (thou and i are too wise to woo peaceably)”

Author: ghostemo aka @wickedscratch​

Summary: When Sabrina Spellman rose to a challenge issued by Prudence Night, she never imagined she’d actually make the varsity cheer squad - or that doing so would upend life as she knew it. Now she has to navigate her new role within the social hierarchy of hell -er Baxter High as well as trying to get her boyfriend to actually communicate. It certainly doesn’t help that she’s been paired up with the annoyingly handsome Nicholas Scratch, captain of Greendale’s beloved football team, for a project in her theater class. It’s exactly as, if not more so, cliche as it sounds. AU/AH - Rated T - Chapters 3/? - 7/25/2019

32. “Off the Record”

Author: sarahkwut

Summary: AU. Detective Nicholas Scratch left New York for Greendale in desperate need of a change of scenery. The small town takes some getting used to, but local reporter Sabrina Spellman quickly grabs his attention. It's the fresh start he needed until Greendale's residents start turning up dead. With a murderer on the loose, no one is innocent - and anyone might be next. AU/AH - Rated Mature - Chapters 29/29 - COMPLETED 7/22/2019

33. “Bring You Close To Me”

Author: BridgetMcKennitt

Summary: Sabrina and her friends managed to bring Nicholas back from Hell. There was a lot the two of them needed to discuss, but tonight, they had this. Rated E Mature - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot - Last Update 7/13/2019

34. “A Brief Moment”

Author: bunivy aka @bunivys​

Summary: Ever since he's returned from Hell, Nicholas Scratch has been having nightmares. With help from Aunt Hilda, Sabrina unknowingly shows him a light and for a moment, Nicholas knows everything will be okay. Rated General - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot - Last Update 6/24/2019

35. “To Hell and Back”

Author: swtnerdgirl

Summary: A year has passed since Sabrina and her friends rescued Nick from Hell. No one came back the same. They all had their scars. Some emotionally. Some physically. In the days leading to Hilda's wedding, they all prepare for their lives to change and heal their wounds. Rated Mature - Chapters 16/? - Last Update 6/06/2019

36. “Dead Witch Walking”

Author: rayo aka @its-nabrina-bitch​

Summary: Faced with the possibility of being harrowed to death by her classmates, Sabrina finds an escape. Rated E Mature - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot - Last Update 5/26/2019

37. “Moonlight Beneath Rough Lips”

Author: ivylikeveins

Summary: After the encounter with the thirteen witches of Greendale, Sabrina enters the dining hall with moonlight locks bathed in soft blue hues, and Nick does not know what to do. He ends up with a soft and small Sabrina pressed into his chest, sleeping, and wrapped around his very much over-sized jacket with Nick's lips pressed into the soft, pearly strands he wants his soul to get entangled within. Rated Mature - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot - Last Update 5/19/2019

38. “The Hunt”

Author: OnlyInAutumn

Summary: Nick howled into the night, up at the stars to signify that he was ready on the eve of Lupercalia, the darkness of midnight around them. The first sound of the horn sent them into the forest. The hunt had begun. Rated E Mature - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot - Last Update 5/11/2019

39. “Secrets, Secrets are no Fun”

Author: filmharlot

Summary: Sabrina is the new kid for the first time in her life. Choosing to go to the Academy full-time seems to be a hard transition than she was expecting. With the Weird Sisters harassment at an all-time high, dealing with leaving her mortal friend's and condescending teachers, Sabrina is suffering. She's not even allowed to have Salem for comfort. It's not all bad though. She is finally free to do magic whenever she wants, and there's a charming warlock who is being particularly nice to her. Plus, someone is leaving kind gifts on her bed at the end of the night. She just wishes she knew who it was. Not Rated - Chapters 1/? - Last Update 5/06/2019

40. “Unsettled Nighttime Creatures”

Author: mindlesshappy

Summary: We all know Sabrina is going to save Nick. This is how Nick reacts to being saved - which, spoilers alert - is like a very stupid warlock. Rated T - Chapters 5/5 - Completed 4/25/2019

41. “Selfless”

Author: sarahwut

Summary: Sabrina Spellman dragged Nicholas Scratch back from Hell. But Hell might be better than a world in which they aren't together. Rated General - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot - Completed 4/23/2019

42. “Homecoming”

Author: cherrystems

Summary: After several months Sabrina is able to get Nick back from Hell with the help of her family and friends. However, Nick has to adjust to Earth again while dealing with PTSD and anxiety. This tells the story of the growth of Sabrina and Nick's relationship over the recovery time. Not Rated - Chapters 3/? - Last Update 4/20/2019

43. “Under Your Spell”

Author: londonmarie

Summary: Sabrina doesn't hesitate to have her Dark Baptism and things go differently. Rated T - Chapters 10/? - Last Update 4/18/2019

44. “Photographs”

Author: Greyowl9831

Summary: It's been at least 150 years since Sabrina signed her name in the Book of the Beast. One day she finds an old photo album. Will the memories it contains be a great walk down memory lane or will it be more than she can bare? Not Rated - Chapters 4/? - Last Update 4/14/2019

45. “An itch That Needed Scratching”

Author: umbrellacorp

Summary: What if Nick slayed his familiar and Sabrina and Nick got to experience the last night of the Lupercalia festival alone. Tonight, Sabrina would be transformed. Nick was going to show her power that she never knew she had, an innate carnal power. They were about to become the most powerful union of the Church of Night. Rated E Mature - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot - Last Update 4/13/2019

46. “and I keep waiting (but I won’t say I’m waiting)”

Author: lost_n_stereo @lost-n-stereo​

Summary: You would think that it would hurt less as the days go by, since it’s been nearly two years since Nick sacrificed himself for the greater good and Lilith took him to hell. Except, he didn’t sacrifice himself for the greater good, he sacrificed himself for her. And that makes it a hell of a lot tougher to let go. Rated General - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot - Last Update 4/10/2019

47. “The Four Pictures”

Author: Copper_16

Summary: It’s been 10 years. Nick and Sabrina are teachers at the Academy along with some familiar faces. It’s been a decade there can’t be that much chaos anymore, right? Wrong. Rated T - Chapters 3/? - Last Update 4/09/2019

48. “Fire”

Author: OnlyInAutumn

Summary: Their power—together—was overwhelming. It was something that she had not felt either, the consuming feeling of expanding power. It was entirely addicting. Rated Mature - Chapters 2/2 - Completed 3/24/2019

49. “something I can believe”

Author: Anry

Summary: Missing scene after Sabrina's baptism. I wouldn't say that it's really a relationship here, just conversation. Rated General - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot - Last Update 1/25/2019

AND THERE YOU GO AGAIN!!!

Everyone again please make sure to leave love through the comments and giving kudos to all these amazing writers who have worked so hard on delivering these stories. Some who have newly popped up with amazing fics during the Part 4 Hiatus. Because of course without them this wait for Part 4 would be so much harder....now especially since the cast has officially wrapped Part 4 Filming.

But seriously these writers work hard on these stories and truly deserve the encouragement and love for their hard work with these amazing stories. Giving a simple “Love the chapter, can’t wait for more” will keep them going. So make sure to show your love by leaving comments our sharing their stories with other Nabrina Shippers or just CAOS fans.

If anyone has any other suggestions for the list feel free to message me :).

ANYWAYS ENJOY!!!! LET THE PART 4 WAIT BEGIN

[kiruuuuu]

Blitz/Spectre oneshot in which she and Blitz get a little closer. (Rating T, fluff, ~2.5k words) - written for @ruaniamh​! Thank you again for commissioning me and I’m glad you’re happy with this piece ♥♥ You can find out all about Quinn “Spectre” Roach here! My commission info is over here :) 

.

In a – as Spectre finds – deliciously ironic twist of fate, Blitz fails to react to her approaching due to the blinding light of the afternoon sun.

She’s crouched behind the low wall marking the beginning of the bridge’s balustrade and waiting for her next victim: Mira’s heavy boots gave her away earlier and allowed the Canadian to catch her off-guard, and even Smoke’s lighter steps proved insufficient as Spectre swiftly climbed a tree when she caught a glimpse of him nearing her position. She’s keen on racking up a few more ‘kills’, her competitive spirit awakened by Bandit’s boisterous claims of ending up as the winner and nurtured by the crisp October air.

Ultimately, it’s a child’s game they’re playing, a more advanced tag – they were all given a piece of fabric and told to tuck it into their trousers’ waistbands on their backs, a little like a bright red tail now trailing after them and marking them as potential targets. If someone manages to snatch it from someone else for safekeeping, that someone is out and has to return to base and whoever has collected the most pieces at the end wins. Simple enough, though Sledge claimed it’d serve to test their senses and spatial awareness, challenge their manoeuvring skills and showcase how well they work on their own for once. Spectre, however, suspects that the mild temperature and unimpeded sunshine played a not insignificant role in this decision to allow Rainbow to roam the fields outside of the base freely.

In any case, she’s not complaining, instead she relishes the fresh air and warming rays on her skin, has always liked this mixture as it keeps her focused and cheerful whereas the sweltering summer sun often leaves her content yet tired. Proof of this are the four stripes of cloth in her pocket, courtesy of a lot of stalking around and observing carefully. Some of the others declined the opportunity to swarm out in order to find a suitable starting spot away from everyone else, and instead tackled each other head on right outside the gate like children playing football for the very first time, all clumped up and shouting. Spectre managed to grab Maestro’s fabric before he even joined the fray and was already halfway over the hill before he noticed her demonic cackling was directed at him.

Right now, she’s listening to the gurgling of the small stream next to her and to footfalls probably wishing they were quieter. A quick peek lets her catch a glance of fair hair, golden in this light, sharp cheekbones, a compact silhouette – she doesn’t need more than a fraction of a second to be sure of who it is. She’d recognise him by the sound of his laugh, the adorable cow lick on the back of his head, the unusually shaped birth mark on his wrist.

Don’t turn around, she instructs him silently and almost kicks herself for doing so. They might be impressively in tune for most of the time, but they haven’t figured out telepathy yet. Slowly, she creeps around the solid stone railing, follows him as he steps down the river bank, probably to check for anyone below the bridge. Anticipation is making her giddy, she’s looking forward to the dumb expression on his face when he’ll realise what’s happened, and so she makes a mistake, produces a noise, causes him to turn around. But the sun saves her.

In the moment of confusion, the second he blinks and squints, she shoots up and reaches around him to get a hold of her prize, yet the sudden movement makes her lose her footing and crash into the solid body; now they’re both flailing (and was that a squeak from Blitz?), an arm wraps around her waist to regain balance where she has none to give – and the next thing she knows is the horizon tilting and ice cold water enveloping both of them.

.

“Of all the things I wanted to achieve today, a bath in the river was not among them”, Blitz chides jokingly as soon as he’s emerged from the dressing room wearing his spare clothes and a grin which tells Spectre that he doesn’t mind. His hair is sticking up in all twenty cardinal directions simultaneously and she ponders whether to comment on it, eventually deciding against it. She doesn’t want to seem like she’s paying too much attention to his appearance.

“Not like you couldn’t use one”, she shoots back good-naturedly while they make their way towards a well-deserved lunch break.

“What, are you referring to the information retrieval again?”

“You call it intelligence gathering, I call it dumpster diving. Now which of these is a euphemism, hm? Didn’t you have to wade through sewage in Sevilla too?”

“I’ll have you know that both of those missions ended up successful and not everyone can be as limber as you. You probably would’ve climbed along the walls like a spider instead of stepping into that muck.”

Their playful back-and-forth is as familiar as it is comfortable, one of the constants in Spectre’s everyday life she looks forward to the most. Both of them enjoy poking fun at anything and everything, including themselves and each other – which is one of the reasons why they became fast friends. A sunny disposition in their job isn’t that common, usually it entails a much darker, morbid kind of humour. “I definitely wouldn’t have used an entire can of Lynx to get rid of the smell at least. That’s one way to keep the ladies off of you.”

As soon as the comment has left her mouth, she once again feels the impulse to kick herself. Because while Blitz laughs, it sounds oddly hollow to her ears. She shouldn’t have gone there, she knows he’s been wanting someone by his side for a while. She knows he even has someone in mind, overheard Jäger mention it to someone else. Felt strangely betrayed that Blitz would entrust him with this detail and not her, felt a stab of jealousy because who does Blitz call in the early morning after a bad dream? Whom does he send drunk texts which are as illegible as they are hilarious? Not Jäger, that’s for sure. She knows he doesn’t message anyone else, he never does so when they’re out together. She would like to see herself as his best friend but after that she’s had her doubts. If he kept this from her, what else did he keep?

Going down this path is futile and depressing, so she does her best to snap out of it but it takes a few minutes until her smile stops hurting.

A hiss is what finally distracts her mid-chew: “You are a fucking cat, young lady!”

Both she and Blitz snort at Mira’s accusation. “Did she sneak up on you too?”, he asks, amused.

“Please tell me who eliminated you so I can thank them for avenging my honour. You gave me the worst fright I’ve had in a while.”

While Spectre just grins proudly, the German opposite her replies: “More on accident, but we got each other.”

Mira lifts a brow and suddenly, it’s imperative Spectre doesn’t blush so she doesn’t give herself away. All the jokes and questioning glances whenever they playfight or feed each other unhealthy food to create the most disgusting combination are more than enough already. Still. It sounds nice: we got each other. “Is that why you’re looking like a drowned rat?”

“Watch out or you might hit someone in the face with all that charm you’re throwing around”, Spectre grins. Her mauve hair is still damp and probably hanging down sadly, so Mira might not actually be far from the truth – but she finds that she doesn’t mind, no, not at all. She can still feel Blitz’ loose embrace, hears his laughter bubbling up as they dragged themselves out of the stream, shaking the water off like a pair of dogs.

The Spaniard leaves them to their meals, still mock-grumbling, but gets replaced by Jäger immediately. “Can I interrupt you guys for a moment?”, he asks and Spectre idly wonders whether there’ll ever be anything he’d interrupt.

“I don’t know, can you?”, she replies and fights down a giggle when she realises Blitz just uttered exactly the same thing. They exchange a glance and a grin when he lightly kicks her under the table.

For a moment, she’s worried Jäger is going to hurt himself with how dramatically his eyes roll skywards. “Bunch of nerds”, he mutters. “All I wanted to know is whether you’re ready for tomorrow.”

“Of course! Tomorrow is a very special day.”

Blitz’ answer comes so fast that Spectre’s heart skips a beat. Did he – did he remember? She let it slip before, more than half a year ago, didn’t think he paid it any heed, didn’t think he’d care enough. He’s awful with remembering dates, only remembers Sledge’s birthday because it’s the same as his own, and his friends usually remind him of everyone else’s. But could he have -

“Yeah, I know how much you love Halloween.” Jäger earns a nod from Blitz and oh, that’s right. Of course that’s what he means. “You’re coming to Julien’s party too, right, Quinn?”

“Yes”, she replies curtly and contributes no more to the chatter about the Germans’ plans. She’s not hungry anymore.

.

The next afternoon, Spectre is in a rotten mood and hates herself for it. She adores Halloween, even decided to go all out this year and whip up a full-fledged zombie costume, ordered liquid latex for fake injuries, white contact lenses to max out the creepy and went so far as to buy blood capsules. Her plan was to dramatically announce her insatiable hunger for human flesh at some point during the party, and then gurgle crimson – Rook made the mistake of letting everyone know there’d be prizes for the best costumes and she’s determined to make it to the top three.

Well, was determined.

It’s silly and she knows it, yet this changes nothing. She received the usual greetings and best wishes from her family and friends, had Buck and Frost congratulate her inconspicuously, the two shoving candies and other important Canadian foodstuffs they know she misses into her pockets, and it’s how her birthday normally goes. She refuses to make a big deal of it, keeps it secret so people rather worry about enjoying Halloween than to procure impersonal gifts or, even worse, sing for her, and still -

Part of her had hoped she’d be important enough for Blitz to remember, yet she hasn’t even seen him all day. And the fact that this is what brings her down makes her feel even sillier.

No, she’s going to have a good time regardless. It’s not the end of the world. She’s going to freak everyone out by groaning and reaching out when they walk past, she’s going to unsettlingly stare at people and it’s going to be glorious. Rook hates zombies and she’ll have a whale of a time chasing him around his apartment.

Just as she’s made this decision, her doorbell rings unexpectedly.

For some reason, Blitz is holding a mug with the logo of a local wildlife resort in his hand, looking sheepish and apologetic at the same time. “There’s still time before we have to leave for the party, right?” He sounds out of breath, cheeks as red as his ears from the cold and looks adorable.

“Sure, more than an hour. I’m just starting to get ready.” Frowning, Spectre peers into the mug. “Did you bring… compressed dirt? You’re missing a few tentacles for your Davy Jones costume, I’m afraid.”

Blitz just laughs and enters the place where they’ve spent countless hours together, her kicking his ass at her favourite video games, them attempting to bake together, coming down after intense training or when they’ve just returned after a mission. He prefers visiting her, he’s said as much, thinks her flat is more inviting and homely and she secretly agrees. He toes off his shoes, hangs up his jacket and rummages in his pockets for a few more objects before herding her into the living room, taking his usual spot on the couch next to her.

Nothing gets clearer even as he sets the cup on the low coffee table and places an unassuming envelope next to it.

“What are you doing?”

The genuine confusion in her voice seems to amuse him for some reason. “You’re an idiot, Quinn. Did you think I’d forget? Happy birthday.” And with this, he conjures up a small candle and pushes it into the soft mass inside the ceramic. This is when it clicks.

“Is this – a mug cake?” She can’t believe it.

Blitz shrugs with an embarrassed smile. “I’ve destroyed your kitchen often enough that you know how bad I am at baking. This is all I could -”

A hug cuts him off and he seems happy to reciprocate it instead of talking. His strong arms pull her closer, squeeze her reassuringly and her heart sings. She can only imagine how long he must’ve agonised over what to gift her – because she also knows how bad he is at choosing presents. “Thank you”, she whispers and means so much more, but for now it should suffice. Another squeeze. She could get used to this.

And then the quiet, serene atmosphere vanishes as soon as she opens the envelope. Blitz watches her bounce and flail and cheer for a solid minute before he points out: “There are two tickets. I figured you might not want to go alone.”

“Two tickets to fucking Gamescom?”, Spectre squeaks ecstatically.

“And the flights, and a hotel room.” He seems extremely pleased with how excitedly his gift is being accepted – and this is the best thing Spectre could’ve hoped for, it’s the largest video game convention in the entire world. She’ll get to try out upcoming titles herself, collect all the swag, stroll around among like-minded people and this is amazing. “You can take whoever you like.”

In her exhilaration she misses his tone of voice but doesn’t miss his surprised expression when she punches him in the arm. “You hoser, of course you’re coming with me.”

“Really? I – I mean, I can probably be useful since it’s in Germany, so -”

“I wouldn’t want anyone else to go with me even if it was in France, or Canada, or wherever.”

And now she notices his blush still hasn’t disappeared despite his breathing long having calmed down. …maybe the cold wasn’t really its cause. Maybe, just maybe -

“I’d love to go with you”, he says and oh, he’s not really that interested in gaming normally, and he said a hotel room, and maybe, just maybe, he told Jäger instead of her because…

It clicks. And suddenly, she knows with vicious clarity that this is going to be the best birthday of her life. “Elias”, she murmurs and waits until he finally gathers the courage to meet her fond, helpless, hopeful gaze, “do you like me?”

And the bright red colouring Blitz’ face only deepens.

Seems like she won’t be using the blood capsules today after all, not when she’s pretty sure her mouth will be occupied otherwise for the majority of the party.

And only mere minutes later, she starts considering ditching her zombie costume entirely because there’s no doubt they’re going to be late anyway. Now they really, finally, eventually got each other.

[our-elven-lady-of-chaos]

You Are My Home

A Loki x reader series

(Comments at the end of the post!)

Chapter 1: The Promise

“Poor motherless child,”  Loki fawned over her, brushing the tears from her cherubic cheeks.  “Who could ever abandon such a child as precious as this?” He thought to himself.  “Fae bastards, casting out their own to live amongst mere mortals.”  That even a princess should be subject to this made his blood boil.  This was Oberon’s own daughter, for Odin’s sake!  

“Come now, little one.  Dry those tears.”  He lifted her chin, looking deep into her eyes, blue as sapphires.  She stopped, transfixed by the striking emerald of his own, or perhaps the beauty of his ebony locks contrasted against porcelain skin.  She reached her much smaller hand to cup his cheek.  Even living amongst the fae, she had never seen a grown man who was so beautiful, so perfect.

He pulled her in close.  “As long as I shall live, you shall always have a home, and you will always be loved.  This, I promise you.”

Some days she really hated the fact that she was honor bound to a fault.

It wasn’t really her fault, being a faerie and all.

She rolled over in bed, glaring at her digital alarm clock.  Again.  

4:53 am.  Wonderful.  Looks like she wouldn’t be getting any sleep that night.  She stretched her arms above her head until she heard a satisfying “pop!”, then proceeded to work her legs in the same fashion. Might as well get some training in to work off some stress before Thor arrived to whisk her away to Asgard to retrieve his wayward brother.

She got out of bed, unperturbed in the slightest by the chilly morning air.  Everyone except for Tony, Bruce, and Thor questioned how she could keep her chambers at such a temperature.  Banner didn’t, as he was fully aware of what she was and her capabilities, while Tony had been the one to take her in and adopt her into their ragtag gang in the first place.  Thor, like her, wasn’t as bothered by the cold as a fragile mortal body would be.  At least it came in handy sometimes.  She shuffled to the bathroom, donning her robe and slippers before splashing her face with warm water in an effort to become more alert before taking the time to brush out her long golden mane.  She sighed, cursing softly in a long forgotten language as the knots in her errant curls snagged on the brush.  Tea it was, then.

How did she get stuck in this mess in the first place?  Right.  She owed Thor a favor.  Stupid, stupid, stupid.

*Flashback*

After months of working with the elder prince of Asgard, she had finally mustered up the courage to ask Thor a question that had been nagging at her for eons.  Being an immortal stuck amongst humans grew to be quite taxing after a few centuries, after all.  Watching the vast majority of her friends live their lives, build their families, grow old together, and die left something to be desired in her.

“My Lady Lysandra!”  Thor boomed, as regal as ever.  “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

Lys shifted nervously under his cheerful gaze, heavily burdened by the weight of what she was about to reveal.  

“I have a request of you, one that does not come lightly.”  She absentmindedly toyed with the silver bracelet around her slender wrist.

He raised a great eyebrow in question.  “Oh?  If it is something that is within my power to grant, then I will be most happy to do so.”  He motioned for her to continue.

“Deep breaths, Lys,” she reminded herself. “You can do this.”

“I’d like to go with you to Asgard.  Once the rest have...faded with time.”  She chose her words carefully.

Thor grinned, having expected something of the sort for a long time.  Her magic reading were off the charts, much like his brother.  There was no way she was just a simple midgardian woman.

“That’s a big decision there,”  he said.  “You’ve been thinking about this for a while?”

She nodded.  “My father has forbade me from living amongst our own people, as it is far too dangerous for me.  I grow weary of watching my companions die every few decades.”  

Don’t cry Lys.  Not now.  

She paused for a moment, regaining her composure.  Thor merely nodded in understanding.

“You aren’t mortal,”  he said knowingly.

“No.”

“Then...what?”

She removed a portion of her glamour with a dramatic sigh.  Pin straight silver hair turned to lushious golden curls, with a pair of delicately pointed ears poking through the sides.  “A faerie.  One of the high fey.”

He chuckled, bringing her hand to his lips for a kiss.  “Nínimel.  Daughter of Oberon.”

She nodded warily.  “You...know of me?”

His grin widened.  “Of course, princess.  Your father pleaded with mine for your protection ages ago.  It is the reason why most of the fae can no longer travel freely between midgard and faerie.”  He let out another laugh.  “You reached no higher than my waist last I saw you...like this.”  He indicated her pointed ears and long golden hair. “Although...I must apologize.  Your father forced us to wipe your memory of the time you spent with us, otherwise you wouldn’t leave.” “You’d have come back to Loki,”  he told himself wordlessly.

She looked downwards in shame, regardless of whether or not it was justified.  “I don’t use that name now.  Only one person has dared to call me that in the past hundred years or so, and, well….he isn’t exactly a person to begin with.”

Thor chuckled again.  “While I am unsure as to what manner of fae creatures you choose to hold court with here in the mortal world, I do wish to meet them someday.  Loki too.”

The shadow of a smile crossed her face at the mention of his brother’s name, though she knew not the reason why, but Thor picked up on it, almost instinctively.  While her stay in Asgard was quite short, he had treated her kindly and shown her a few tricks to convince her to come out of hiding.  It had been enough to get her to temporarily remove her glamour, but she had still clung to the trickster, like a child to its mother for the remainder of her stay.  

Had she been allowed to stay, would they have fallen in love?  And if brought together, was there any hope that they could start now?  Thor liked to think so, but the kindhearted trickster he had once known had grown into a somber and brooding young man with a penchant for lashing out and inflicting pain upon others.  Still, he had to try.  If there was anyone that could bring his brother back from the brink of his suicidal thoughts and self-destructive tendencies, it was her.  

A soft niggling in the back of his mind snapped him out of his reverie.  There was something he was supposed to remember, something important about dealing with the fae.  Ah!  There it was.

“Now Lysandra,” he started, a soft smile playing upon his lips.  Well, as soft and gentle a smile a big, burly man like Thor could manage.  “Lys, you know how these deals work.”

She continued her study of the marble floor tiles.  “I know,”  she mumbled.

Geez.  Did she really loathe her kind THAT much?  Yep, her and Loki were a perfect match.

“I’ll take you to Asgard with me.  In fact, I can take you tomorrow.’

Uh-oh.  This was the part that wasn’t sounding good.

“But I need your help with something,”  Thor continued, his smile faltering as he struggled to find the right words to explain the situation.

Nope.  Whatever it was, it probably wasn’t worth the pain or the hassle it would cause her. She put on a fake smile and nodded for him to continue.

“I’m...rather, we’re bringing Loki back here, as part of his sentence for his crimes. If it is as he has said, and he was merely a puppet in the whole thing, then it shouldn’t prove much of a challenge.”  He sighed, then stretched out to scratch something on the back of his neck sheepishly.  “As per Tony’s rules, he is required to have a so called  “babysitter” until he proves himself trustworthy, and I’d feel better if it were another magic user.”

Loki?  Loki was the one she had to deal with?  That didn’t seem too bad.  At least he could be reasoned with, unlike much of the fae.

“Is Tony in on this then?” she ventured to ask.

“Of course!” Thor replied reassuringly.  “I wouldn’t be bringing him here otherwise.”

She paused for a moment before speaking, thinking of all the things that would need to be in place to make his containment - er...rehabilitation possible.  And plausible.  She knew she would have to go about this a certain way, both to gain his cooperation and trust, and to make sure he didn’t go stir-crazy from not being able to exercise his abilities for too long.  She knew all too well what that felt like.  That must be why Thor had come to her for this specific task.  Because if the one who was placed in charge of him was unfamiliar with the constant ebb and flow of seider within the body of a magic user - she shuddered to think of the consequences.

“Alright, I’ll do it, but on certain terms,” she responded cautiously. Thor nodded, still wearing his ever present grin.  He was a lot like a Golden Retriever, that man, all over-eager and willing to please.  She would have hugged him for it, for the reassurance it could provide, if she had been a hugging person.

“I’m sure they’ll want to impose some sort of restrictions on your brother’s magic, at least outside of battle until we know he can be trusted, but it has to be something I can remove.”

“Your assumption is correct, which is why we will leave it up to Tony to construct a device rather than my father”  Thor interjects, before motioning for her to continue.

She takes in a deep breath to regain her composure, unused to being involved in such large decisions.  “That’s...good.  Good.  Loki will be expected to join me in training every day, in my special training rooms.  I can have them warded so that he can’t teleport himself out or exit before I do, but he’ll have to have the barrier restricting his magic removed for at least that long every day.  It is extremely important, otherwise it will keep building up and hurt him.  Severely.”

Thor nodded in understanding.  “I figured as much.  My mother explained to me something of the sort, which is why only you can do this, little flower.”

She smiled softly at the old nickname.  It was the same as her father always used endearingly.  She greatly enjoyed the comfort of it, although it was something she would never admit to.  Despite all he’d done, Thor still cared deeply for his brother, saw something in him that was worth saving.  And for that, she would fight for it.

Noticing that she still seemed quite unsettled by things, or perhaps the nature of her own revelation, he reached out to take her hand, squeezing it gently in reassurance.  “Don’t worry princess,” he spoke, blue eyes glistening.  “My brother may be many things, but he has always been a perfect gentleman.  Treat him with the same kindness you do everyone, take him on whatever adventures you cannot share with the likes of our fragile mortal companions, and everything will turn out just fine.  I know it.  I believe in you.”  

He kisses her hand again, preparing to leave.  His facial hair tickled as it brushed against the back of her hand.

Upon reaching the doorway, he provides her with one last piece of advice as an afterthought.  

“Right now, my brother could really use a friend, more than anything.  Become that person, and he’ll give you the world.”

Alright guys!  First thing I’ve done in ages, also the first non-Fire Emblem fic I’ve done.  I’m not quite sure what my posting schedule is going to be like, so please bear with me on that (anxiety and depression is a wonderful moodkilling combo, and I’ve got work and school on top of that so XP).  I greatly appreciate any feedback I get, especially on pacing and that kind of thing, or just good old fashioned encouragement to keep me going.

Now, the idea for this story actually came to me from a line from another fic about the reader musing that Loki was well enough endowed (through magic, his godly strength, and uhh...other means) to bed the great fae queens of old, but much to my displeasure it is a trope that has yet to be explored.  I intend to fix that.

A small note that if I ever end up naming my characters, I will give careful thought as to what that name will be, so that you won’t be stuck with something that feels very out of place for someone who is supposed to be royalty, of a different time period, ect.  (I hope this doesn’t annoy anyone.  It just helps me for the sake of the story.) Additionally, I might end up using a small amount of (Tolkien) elvish in the story, but translations will be given at the bottom of the page.

Thank you for reading!

XOXO Yoshi

Nínimel - (Sindarin) Snow drop

[greenflamedwriter]

Fea, Stray Knight| Chap Five

LANCE

Lance and Keith Lance were pushed forward, the crowd ushering them forward like a wave to the forefront, Lance’s hand tightened in Keith’s hold.

He knew where they were going.

They were going to see Shiro fight.

Lance tried to dig his heels in “Keith- we shouldn’t go.” Keith glanced at him confused.

“Are you kidding? We have to get a closer look.”

Lance could only be tugged along as he got a front row seat of the champion.

Shiro was in the arena, all lights shined on him, like he was a performer in a show. He raised his sword high as he circled his enemy a grin on his face.

Keith was transfixed, his eyes glowing like starlight.

Shiro lunged his body was fast, for his size. His sword glided over the others and clanged like a thunder clap, Shiro easily overpowered the other.

Cold, cruel and quick as lighting.

He was fast as he was precise, and his opponent could barely struggle to keep up.

Lance covered his mouth and shut his eyes at the spray of blood, he was going to be sick. He glanced down to see other Fea retrieve the Orc on a stretcher was he dead?

The others seemed to think so.

He glanced at Keith hoping he would agree they should go home.

He froze to see the blissful look on keith's face, he was completely enraptured with this fight, he jumped up cheering for shiro just as loud as the others.

...The purple scar on his cheek, his eyes...they looked yellow .

For a moment Lance was terrified, the hand holding his felt too tight.

He tried to unlace his hand, he felt alone with a demon that took the place of his friend.

The fear unmistakable and he wanted to run, leave and never look back.

Until Keith glanced back at him and his smile faded at Lance’s horrified look.

He seemed to snap back to normal, “Lance are you okay?”

Lance swallowed, and plastered on a fake smile,

“Well that happened. Was expecting one of them to bite the dust.” But honestly Lance was freaking out and Keith could tell. He was as translucent as water.

“That’s a good thing,” Keith said catching Lance’s attention, “It would taint Shiro’s honour.”

But Lance’s eyes narrowed “There is nothing honourable about any of the Fea that we’ve seen so far, how can you trust them?”

“Because fairies speak the truth.”

“So does Vulcans apparently and yet we all know Spock can bullshit from time to time.”

Keith's attention snapped back to Shiro who waved to the crowd and left the arena.

Keith tugged Lance’s hand that slackened in his hold.

“Look there he goes, if we hurry we could catch him.”

Lance almost pulled Keith back, an affirmation caught on his lips, until he saw the crowd swarm Shiro calling him Champion over and over again.

“We can’t get to him, Keith.” Lance shrugged not looking at all dejected “Might as well get him next time.”

Keith wasn’t deterred, he tried to push past Pixies and nixies.

“Shiro! Shiro!”

A nearby pooka saw him and sneered “Out the way, groupie.” He almost shoved him, while Keith looked ready to stab a Pooka.

Lance grabbed his arm “Hey wait- he knows him.” The pooka gave an unimpressed look “ Everyone knows him.”

Until Shiro ‘s eyes locked onto Keith’s eyes alight “Keith!”

He made his way over and the Unseelie court parted, like the sea before him.

Shiro looked stunned “What are you doing here?” He then realised the stares of the others and grabbed Keiths arm, Lance made to follow but another elf blocked his path “You stay here-”

“He’s with me.” Keith growled dragging Lance with him. He’d rather go home, but at least Keith wasn’t alone with the psycho.

The two followed after Shiro to a more secluded corner, out the way from prying eyes.

But you were never completely alone in the unseelie court.

Lance could barely find it within himself to relax but Keith looked like putty.

“You're actually here.” He breathed in awe, and Lance felt his irritation flare like a brewing storm.

Shiro smiled amused “Of course but the question is... what brings you here with your…” he glanced at Lance and frowned “What was your name again?”

Lance visibly growled and crossed his arms “None of your business, elf .” He hissed, Keith glanced at him taken aback.

Lance didn’t care how he sounded, Shiro rubbed him the wrong way.

“You dare talk to your champion that way?” Shiro’s warm demeanor changed, and Lance will admit he felt terrified he had half a mind to apologise.

Until he saw Keith’s face.

He knew he had to prove that Shiro wasn’t a good guy.

Lance squared up his shoulders “You are not my champion.”

Shiro’s eyes narrowed “Impertinent child, kneel.”

Lance almost scoffed until he felt his legs give way, “What-”

“Smile wide, let me see those teeth.” He teased and Lance felt his lips pull back and his heart beat in his chest.

What. The. Hell!?

“Lance-” Keith cried out then grabbed Shiro’s arm and tugged him back. “Cut it out!” He growled his eyes glowing yellow, Shiro raised an eyebrow his scowl aimed at Keith. “He was being, as you would say, a jerk.” Keith’s eyes narrowed “Well he’s my jerk, so can you stop?” Shiro stared at him for a while longer and Keith clenched his fists, Shiro rolled his eyes “Fine,”

The compulsion faded and Lance almost fell over snarling, he blindly kicked out. Shiro not expecting it, fell over surprised.

Lance grabbed his sword and stood over him, his shoulder hunched as he pointed the tip at Shiro’s throat.

“Keith we’re leaving.” He hissed taking a step towards him, Keith noticed the other fea laughing at the fallen knight.

“Look! a human is challenging shiro!” others gasped, Keith panicked challenge as in-

“Lance,” Keith hissed a hand latching onto his shoulder “Stand down!”

“No way, he’s just like the rest of them!”

Shiro held his hands up and looked wary “Okay, calm down. But what you are doing is a lot worse than me charming you.”

Lance sneered “In your dreams, legolas.” Shiro’s smirk appeared, smug and condescending. Keith remembered him acting like that with his high school bullies it was great back then, being on the other side of that smirk wasn’t.

“Lance I’m not going anywhere, you can leave if you’re so scared.” Lance’s eyes flashed

“Keith!”

Distracted, Shiro rushed him, slamming Lance against the wall and pressed the blade against his throat. Lance yelped while Keith screamed “Shiro!”

If Lance got hurt, he couldn’t live with himself.

“Don’t you ever raise my own blade against me!” His eyes narrowed into golden slits, Lance scrambled against the bare rock leaning his neck back from the reflective blade, Lance sneered.

“Don’t make it so easy, a Fea had their sword stolen by a human? How pathetic.”

“To insult me, is worse than disastrous. Apologise now. Or it won’t end well for you.” Lance gritted his teeth, leaning his neck away from the blade.

“Bite me.”

They sparked off one another like lighting on water, spitting and tense. Keith opened his mouth but was disrupted, a voice called out loud and shrill.

“Shiro has accepted the challenge!”

“To the arena!”

Suddenly a hand grabbed Lances wrist and another pulled Shiro away,

“Come forth brave one!” A chirpy voice tweeted leading Lance away Keith whipped around “Lance!”

They both reached towards each before being ripped away, Keith snarled turning towards Shiro.

“Where are they taking him!?”

“To the Arena,” Shiro yelled joyfully, then turned to Keith as an afterthought and winked “Don’t worry I won’t hurt him.”

He turned around to see Shiro take his hand “Maybe ruff him up a bit.” He kissed Keith’s hand and the boys eyes bulged in surprise.

Shiro smiled, “I will fight valiantly to win you,”

Keith just blinked, what…. just happened….?

Ignoring that for now he ran towards the arena cage and looked into the pit biting his lips with anxiety.

All he could do was look into the pit and feel trepidation, why was it taking so long?

Until both doors opened, finally taking a good look Keith scowled.

“That isn’t fair.”

Shiro was decked out in armour while Lance still wore his hoodie and jeans, this was not a fair fight.

“That’s the point,” He glanced up at a hooded figure, leaning over his shoulder. Her blue and pink hood covered her face while her mouth was visibly.

“The unseelie court are rarely honourable they kill for the sport, Shiro had to learn that the hard way.”

Keith could only stare at the stranger “Who are you?” She gazed down at him and smiled with no warmth.

“My name is Allura,” Keith felt as if that name was important but he couldn’t remember why.

Lance tried hard not to trip on his feet, so many eyes were watching him all except one.

Shiro was admiring his weapons and choosing the flashiest most dangerous one. Lance scowled, pompous jerk.

He glanced at his own wall of weapons, good god, there’s so many...he saw the table had wheels attached and knew he had a few choices, before they take it away.

He wanted to grab the sword it felt like an obvious option along with the shield, but then his eyes kept flickering to the bow and arrow.

He saw a small dwarf head over, to retrieve the weapons, in his haste he grabbed the bow and arrow and a dagger. He barely had time to grab the shield.

The weapons were carted away and Lance looked up at the cheering crowd, at Keith and...who was that next to him?

He felt something at the corner of his eye and flinched bringing up his bow, he screamed when a sword lodged into it.

“You should be paying attention to me.” Shiro hissed like wind, he pulled back and struck harder, Lance yelped back and almost fell over, the fight would’ve been finished in a pathetic two seconds.

In a moment of bravery, or stupidity Lance grappled for his small blade and thrusted it forward, Shiro laughed as he out maneuvered the small blade and grabbed his wrist, twisting it out of Lance’s hand.

Lance screamed, a flash of pain up his wrist, he barely had time before Shiro’s feet kicked out from underneath him and Lance fell onto his back, ungracefully.

Shiro extended his hands to the crowd, looking damn near proud of himself, Lance scowled.

He slowly took the bow of his back and pulled back and arrow, the feathers kissed his cheek and he exhaled, Shiro turned just in time as Lance let loose the bow string.

The arrow nicked Shiro’s face.

A line of red sliced alonger his nose, the crowd gasped and even Lance elated smile faded when he saw Shiro’s murderous face glare back at him.

Lance scrambled to stand, but that was useless, when Shiro came down like a thunderstorm, he gave a right hook and Lance felt it slam into his cheek, fuck that smarted- then Shiro hit his chest.

Lance tried to back-pedal or use his bow as a shield, shiro grabbed it and snapped it in half, Lance’s eye- since the other was swollen shut by now, saw the dagger.

He managed to shove Shiro away and grab it, Shiro’s foot slammed onto his hand and Lance screamed.

Shiro picked up the knife, and managed to push Lance onto his back and straddled him, Lance struggled but it was easy for Shiro to manhandle him and push his arms up, his nose trailing blood down his face.

“I planned to let you off easy, but you dishonoured me.” Shiro growled Lance tried to press himself back into the dirt when the knife was hovering over his eye he felt his breath quicken.

“An eye for an eye they say,” Shiro smirked as the knife pressed underneath and Lance cried out as Shiro pressed the knife in, then it was gone barely a sting, Lance was still hyperventilating but felt some strangeness, that he didn’t feel it. It felt like shiro nipped his skin...was he crying?

Then Shiro moved to his swollen eye “This might hurt a little,” as soon as the knife touched his skin Lance screamed, his legs kicking out Shiro grunted “Keep still.”

He managed to place the final cut and by this point Lance had stopped moving, tears streaming down his face.

Shiro stood back and bowed, since Lance wasn’t moving the others announced the fight over.

The gate opened, both Allura and Keith ran into the arena for Lance, Keith grabbed Lance and Shiro leaned forward “Let me-”

“Don’t you fucking touch him,” Keiths voice burned with fury, and his eyes were smoldering, Shiro swallowed and when he saw Allura’s mouth pursed into a firm line he knew he made a mistake.

They moved away from the arena and into the halls away from prying eyes, there was a fountain near the wall with a white marbled emblem of an altean goddess whose name was forgotten.

Here, Lance lay on his back as Allura took a piece of fabric from her belt and soaked it into the fountain.

“He needs to go to a hospital,” Keith growled glaring at Allura he barely even knew her, and having Shiro so close made his blood boil.

“I learned from the white lion herself from oriande,” Keith gave a slow blink.

“And that’s important to me because?”

“She’s a healer,” Shiro said and was not surprised when Keith’s glare was leveled at him.

“It is a form of magic,” She gazed at the boys face, he was unconscious- probably fainted from the trauma.

But those red marks on his face made him look oddly attractive, almost a mockery of Altean markings.

If it was up to her, she wouldn’t remove them.

But to heal him she had to heal the scars...shame.

She placed the cloth over his cheek softly and dabbed, and concentrated the fabric glowed blue and for a moment...nothing.

Then Lance gasped and his swollen eye opened up and lessened and the scars sealed up, but he had faint markings, you couldn't see them unless you were really close.

He gave a soft gasp his eyes blinking open.

“Shush, it’s okay, you’re okay.” He relaxed at the soothing voice and saw it was the same hooded woman from before.

He smiled softly, Allura paused a slow a smile gracing his lips.

He opened his mouth to speak until he saw movement from the corner of his eye.

He saw Shiro take a step towards him Lance was spooked and fell back with a scream lodged in his throat, that was swallowed when he fell backwards into the fountain.

He almost drowned himself, before standing up waist deep and shaking himself off, the three stared, until they moved forward.

“Lance are you okay-”

Lance spat out water “The hell is he doing here!” Shiro grimaced he admitted one as young as Lance, he may have went too far “I apologise I didn’t mean to-” Lance glare was simmering like a tsunami waiting to crash.

“Get fucked legolas, you can take that apology and cram it right up your-”

“Lance, Shiro tried to save you.”

Allura said at last, now both he and Keith gave the elf funny looks.

Even Keith moved closer to Lance worried for Allura’s sanity.

“Um no, Shiro tried to kill him.”

“Shiro evaded once, Lance was grounded the fight was over. When lance shot the arrow that was him confirming he could still fight all you had do was stay down.”

Keith scowled his face scrunching up in anger “Well to us humans that clearly wasn’t fucking obvious.”

Lance we’re leaving, he took Lance’s hand and pulled him to his feet ready to march out of there, he should have never brought Lance here. It may have felt like home to him, but hurting the one’s he loved it was even worse than any of his previous homes.

“Keith why did you come here?” Shiro asked, his face nothing but innocent confusion and that was the worst thing, Shiro had no idea what he did wrong.

“I came here for answers, you both tell me that I’m a part of you-some sort of fearie and expect me to know all this,” He gestured wildly spitting his words like fire.

”And you hurt the only friend I ever had since you left me.” Keith voice wobbled and he hated himself for it, Shiro’s eyes widened, Keith shook his head.

“I thought I finally found my home, but you made me realise otherwise.”

Keith left and both Shiro and allura could only watch as they left.

“I have to fix this,” Shiro said sounding panicked, Allura turned to him “Don’t forget your mission, you will continue to be the champion of Altea,”

“The fights have thinned, I have time to sort this out.” Allura stood “That you must, Shiro you have not only disappointed Keith, you’ve also disappointed me.” His eyes snapped to her face, shadowed by a hood and mysterious.

“That boy saved your charge more times than you have, and how do you repay him? By slicing up his face.”

Shiro remained silent and Allura went back to the fountain and rung out her cloth “I wont heal your wound it’s the least you deserve, but Shiro.” She took a breath “Until you’re fight with Lotor come tomorrow night. Keith has to be ready for that.”

Shiro gritted his teeth “We talked about this, Keith isn’t-”

“I know, my father has heard your complaint but Shiro, until my coronation there is nothing I can do to save him.” Shiro could only gaze at her.

“There must be another way.” she shook her head “There is not. Keith will be the tithe that unites the Galra and Altea together. He cannot escape his fate as you cannot escape yours.”

She walked away leaving Shiro to his clouded thoughts, the next few days were dark and foreboding like a raging stormcloud.

[mood-for-you]

25+ facts after which you change your mind about fighting dog breeds

So, someone once came up with a special category of dogs and called them “fighting dogs”, implying that all breeds that are on this list are born killers, which by definition cannot be affectionate pets. But are pit bulls, rottweilers, Dobermans, and other dogs that are quite formidable so dangerous? You will find the answers in the article. 1. Pit bulls - dogs that feel pain

© CaseyBarkson / reddit   There is a common misconception that pit bulls do not feel pain. In fact, the pain of pit bulls is similar to human ones, just for these dogs the task is in the first place. As an athlete who tries not to notice even the most severe discomfort and reaches the finish line, the pit bull is trying with all his might to fulfill the owner's team. Because of this myth, parents allow children to sloppily treat a pet or use harsh training methods themselves, which can cause dog aggression. Also, many people believe that the jaws of the pit bull have a special “locking mechanism” that does not give prey a chance to break out. However, this is not so, the structure of the teeth of the pit bull is the same as that of other dogs. Perhaps this myth appeared due to the peculiarity of the bite that the pit bulls got from their ancestors - terriers: when capturing an object, the dog begins to shake its head in different directions and does not release its prey. Pit bulls do not attack without warning, and if the owner raised his pet correctly - did not offend or poison other animals - the dog will not cause harm. Pit bulls are not aggressive towards humans and are known for their love of children.

© Aveerdeado / reddit   Most of the history of pit bulls was considered non-aggressive and even in the early 1900s were the most popular pets, because they were famous for their friendliness. And for this reason, pit bulls are bad guards. They tend to see the thief as a new friend, not as a danger. Pit bulls do a great job with the role of dog therapists. And this breed is also able to quickly respond to various problems with human health, such as lowering blood sugar or oxygen levels, impending cramps. They may even remind you of taking medication.

Most of the history of pit bulls was considered non-aggressive and even in the early 1900s were the most popular pets, because they were famous for their friendliness. And for this reason, pit bulls are bad guards. They tend to see the thief as a new friend, not as a danger. Pit bulls were raised to attack animals, but, despite this, they can share the territory with others subject to socialization from an early age. All dogs of working breeds have this peculiarity - there is no escape from instincts. For example, the hounds will certainly chase the hare, the fox terriers will not be able to pass by the holes, and the beagle will not be stopped at the sight of prey. But no one says that these dogs are dangerous to humans, so why do they think differently about pit bulls? Pit bulls do not attack more often than other dogs. Moreover, pit bulls successfully pass the American temperament test, which assesses friendliness. 87.4% - this result is better than that of the popular Australian Shepherd, Golden Retriever and Spaniel. And for bull terriers, this figure is even higher - 91.6%. If we talk about the bull terrier, then experts characterize this breed as "a three-year-old child in a dog costume." Bull terriers are extremely friendly, but they need daily activity to prevent behavior problems caused by boredom.

© Barcroft Media / Contributor / Getty Images  If the dog has previously participated in battles, this does not mean that the animal should not be given a second chance for a happy life. Dogs that have been abused, with proper rehabilitation, can become loyal friends. Of course, it is important to know the dog’s past and assess the state of the animal’s psyche (the assessment of the psyche can only be carried out by a competent specialist) if you decide to take it from the shelter and ensure proper rehabilitation in the same way under the supervision of specialists. Pit bull is not a breed of dog, this category includes American pit bull terriers, American Staffordshire terriers, American bulldogs, as well as various mixtures of these breeds. But usually with the word “pit bull” people represent the American pit bull terrier. Rottweilers - the most patient four-legged friends

© Fishmike52 / reddit   Rottweilers are extremely sociable, and they should not be kept in the courtyard, because they like to watch loved ones, follow the owner and be near the family. Once at a distance, the pet becomes depressed or feels anxious, which can lead to destructive behavior. Rottweiler is an ideal shepherd who is distinguished by courage. When working with cattle, the Rottweiler seeks out the dominant animal and challenges it. Having proved his superiority, the dog calms down and returns to normal work. Other herding breeds ignore stubborn animals, and the Rottweiler is able to force anyone to follow his orders.

© thrusterbuster00 / reddit   The Rottweiler shows incredible devotion and love for the family, has enviable patience and knows how to be unobtrusive. It gets along well with other animals, but, like pit bulls, socialization is required from an early age. Rottweiler barks only when necessary. This breed of dog can make interesting sounds, such as a growl that resembles a purr. 3. Doberman - an obedient pet

Dobermans were bred for protection and protection, so the dog had to be big, bold and inspire fear in the enemy with one look. However, Doberman’s aggression was mitigated by modern breeders, and today these dogs have a good-natured character, as well as high intelligence and excellent learning. According to experts, Dobermans are much less aggressive towards people than many other breeds that do not have a bad reputation (cocker spaniel, Dalmatian, Great Dane).

© DannotheDoggo / reddit   Some people believe that the Doberman needs to be angry, and only then will he begin to protect the family. This is not true. The dog "by default" will protect those who are dear to her, and it is impossible to strengthen this quality. And if the dog is intentionally angry, then the careless trainer will need protection. Dogs of this breed can endure physical punishment to a certain extent and will defend themselves when patience is over. Another myth sounds like this: the dog needs to be isolated from strangers so that it can protect the family. If the Doberman is not socialized, then he will not be able to become a defender, but only frightened in case of danger. The pet should see and communicate with other people, and it is better to let him accompany you wherever there is the opportunity to be with dogs. 4. Boxers - great babysitting

© Chulipongo / reddit   The description of the breed from 1938 reads as follows: “The character of the boxer is of great importance and requires the closest attention. Since ancient times, it has been known for its immense love and loyalty to both its master and the whole family. He will not cause harm to his own, but he may be distrustful of strangers, active and friendly in the game, but bold and decisive when the situation requires it. His mind, kindness and modesty make him an ideal family dog ​​and a fun companion. You should not expect a trick from a boxer, even when he becomes old. ” There’s no better description. Boxers need three years to grow up psychologically, so many people say that these dogs are eternal puppies. But, despite the fact that these large dogs remain puppies in the shower for a long time, this does not affect their excellent learning ability.

© flowbotronic / reddit   Boxers are a popular breed of dog for families with children, because they are energetic, patient with children and are always ready to defend them. This dog is one big heart in love with its owners. The only feature that you always need to remember: boxers have the habit of jumping on people with joy and they can easily knock down. The boxer is noisy and will bark every time he feels a stranger, or from boredom. Every day, this dog needs from one to two hours of intense activity: walking in the park, running, jumping, following commands. Also, do not leave the dog alone for too long, otherwise it will begin to entertain itself with barking, and your neighbors will definitely not like it. Many of these dogs snore loudly and make funny sounds when they want to ask the owner for something. 5. Mastiff - huge and kind

© sweetestone2 / reddit   Mastiffs, despite their impressive size, are known as loving and gentle dogs. But we must not forget that this is a working breed, and if you do not have time to walk this huge animal several times a day, then it will soon destroy your home. Boredom is unbearable for these dogs, so every day they need exercise, socialization, training and the ability to run.

Tibetan mastiffs have a peculiarity: for hundreds of years of selection, these dogs were valued as night guards, holding back potential predators and intruders with their barking throughout the night. Therefore, leaving the Tibetan mastiff on the street all night with neighbors nearby is not recommended. English mastiffs require care and attention from the owners. These dogs are extremely emotional, and their feelings are easy to hurt. For example, if you yell at a mastiff, he will be very upset. And certainly you should not use brute force during training. Conclusion: making a dog a soft pet or “fighting” is a person’s decision Any dog ​​participating in battles can be called a “fighting dog,” but a separate category of such breeds does not exist. Cruelty can make any living creature evil, only a bad reputation and a negative characteristic are stereotypes that firmly settle in people's minds. But the return trip is much more difficult, and it will take a lot of time to look with different eyes at those who are used to consider dangerous. Any beast cornered will show aggression, including dogs. The pet will not do anything just like that, its actions are always preceded by reasons: lack of education, training or rough treatment. The responsibility for the pet lies with the owner, who must take care not only of the leash and muzzle, but also of the emotional state of the animal. And what kind of pet lives with you and what stereotypes about him have you encountered? Read the full article

[mrsenglishteacher]

Molly

Her collar hangs near our kitchen, tags still attached.  Even a passing glance brings a tightening to my heart, and a longing for her presence.  

We had had a rough go -- two parents who had sent two out of three daughters off to college and independence, the loss of our beloved 11 year-old golden retriever who was raised with them as one of the kids, and a disastrous experience with a pet store puppy we just couldn’t keep.  Our hearts were broken by the losses and failures.

Every time we came home, the emptiness weighed heavily on our emotions.  There was no tail wag or slobbery greeting to welcome us. 

With deep breaths, we headed off for an overnight about sixty miles from home, just the two of us.  We needed a change of scenery and were searching for a sunnier outlook somewhere along the Southern California coast.

We had always enjoyed visiting animal shelter facilities to visit with the dogs and cats looking for humans who would love them, so we ventured in to a beautiful new facility in Carlsbad where San Diego County sheltered animals picked up all over the county.  

There were so many mixed dogs there, big and small, noisy and frightened. We visited with them all looking for dogs which might be calmer and able to relate to humans quickly.  They also needed to be less than ultra furry, as my husband did have allergies and I was exhausted from the clean up required when having a golden retriever.  

I spotted a sweet shepherd mix puppy-ish boy I wanted to meet.  My husband spotted a smooth-coated female looking like a large beagle.  She came up to the kennel gate and just quietly leaned against it for some scratches and kind words.  Her ears were like velvet, and her eyes looked deeply into ours.  So, she was the one we had brought into the visiting room where I sat on a little stool, waiting to see her.

As soon as she was brought in the room, she was calm, and our high, gentle voices urged her to get acquainted.  She circled the room, walked by my husband, and came over and sat right next to me putting her head on my lap.  She was hurt at her abandonment, clearly, and lost at the noise and hubbub of the shelter.   

They “said” she was six-ish and was picked up in the east county at a park.  There were nicks in her ears and head, evidence of run ins with other creatures.  She needed a home and to be loved, and her eyes promised to be faithful, gentle and loving.  We were lost, right there, right then.

She was nearing the end of her “hold”, the time dogs are kept without being adopted out so owners can locate them, and her odds were not good.  Families tended to want younger dogs.  We spoke up, and told to come back the next day to pick her up.

Once she was chipped, and all fees paid, we walked her out to our SUV.  She jumped with ease into the cargo area, and we were off heading north to our home.  Molly would be her name.

In a few minutes, she leaped over the back seat, and was heading up to the front of the car.  Clearly she preferred riding shotgun.  We spoke over our shoulders telling her no, and to get in the back, please.  She looked at us, and hopped back.

And that was how it was for the rest of her life.  “Molly, lie down, please.” She would.  

Though her coat was smooth, she needed a bath the moment we got home.  She was indeed a hound and a smelly one at that.  That first bath released fistfulls of hair, but once that was culled, her coat remained sleek and shiny.  She accepted her sleeping place, never jumped on the couch or grabbed off counters, and became the healing balm to our raw emotional wounds.  

She gratefully ate her food, demonstrating her high level of pleasure by the littlest of two-paw jumps and raising her ears in enthusiasm.  She loved her walks, and when we let her off leash, she ran with the smooth beautiful gait of a hunting dog, for that was what she was.  She was a foxhound, maybe a mix, but the build and coloring of the English version of tan and white foxhounds.  

Molly had manners.  She was always polite, allowing children and adults to approach her and pet her, but never rushing anyone or jumping on them.  if I stopped to visit with neighbors while on a walk with her, she would quietly like down, and wait for my chat to end, never nudging or barking to get the show on the road.  

We had a bed for her in the kitchen, and one in the family room.  She loved to lie on her bed while we watched TV, and as she got older, we would hear her gentle snoring -- contentment at having a home and people to love.

Ultimately, she began to slow, and had a little limp diagnosed as arthritis.  I needed a buddy to challenge the hills around home and get some exercise, so we got a male golden doodle to liven up the house.  Jack Trout came to us from North Carolina, two years old, full of puppy high jinks and crazy to play with Molly.  He would run wild circles around the family room, while Molly barked at him to “knock it off!”.  She taught him the ways of our family -- the stable matriarch of the canine clan.

We nursed her through Addison’s disease, lovingly caring for her as medications robbed her of her spunk and energy, and then she recovered.  Then she developed a cancerous mass on her thigh which had to be removed.  Molly didn’t need the cone hat.  If we told her to leave the wound alone, she did.  And then she recovered to keep Jack in line and watch over her family.  

Trips to the vet left her more and more confused when she returned home, and we could feel her declining before our eyes.  Sometimes she couldn’t get up off the floor.  Sometimes she didn’t want to wake up in the morning.  But, all the while, she found great comfort on her bed in the family room every night, and we would hear her snoring her contentment.

The time came to ease her plight, and we sadly made arrangements with the vet for the final visit.  He was as sad as we were, as she was a favorite among the staff there.  They laid her on a towel, and administered an anesthetic and we heard her begin to snore for the last time, and then she left us.  I don’t know if we loved her more or she loved us more.  She was a gift, a blessing.  

I am sure she knew we loved and cared for her without bounds, and in that final act, we were releasing her with love.  Molly, I miss you.  I know you are free of pain and running through the fields with that beautiful gait, ears flapping in the breeze.  May our spirits unite some day.