#in a series where everyone drinks stupid water and nothing ever goes right …. I need this

[turianmailman]

Ok so I just looked through all you kogkag art and I am in love! You draw Koga so well and it's nice to find someone else who ships kogkag. Out of curiosity, do you ship anything else in Inuyasha?

This is so out of left field, but — Sango x Inuyasha — literally because of that one time he prevented her from killing herself and Kohaku

They’re also just. Extremely normal around each other and I love that for them as opposed to their very canon, very unsavory relationships they end up in.

[loving-all-for-loki]

Your writing is so wonderful! Could I maybe request something comforting? I’m currently recovering from a surgery to repair my foot with bone anchors and I’ll be bed ridden for 6 weeks. Maybe something with Loki being very supportive and caring for the reader 24/7, moving into her room etc. and the team are just surprised at how helpful he’s being to her. 🤗.

A/N: I’m sorry if I posted this at a weird time, but I have the next chapter to my series Voiceless Love coming out and I wanted to give this fic some time to be seen before that got posted. It’s also a little short, but I felt like this was perfect as a short and sweet fic, instead of a 2k+ story, haha. Also, I know it isn’t 100% exactly what you wanted, but I get stuck with one idea and run with it, oops. I hope you are getting better with your foot. That stinks so much and I’ve been there with my own ankle injuries. If you have any requests for some fics while you recover, send them my way! I always need some inspo and if I can give you some entertainment during your recovery, that would be great. Now, read this, get some sleep, and drink some water. I hope you heal nicely <3

Lucky

Loki x reader

Word count: 1533

Warnings: Pure fluff, just fluff, fluffiness, maybe a bit of sexualizing Loki (I couldn’t help myself)

Seeing your friends carrying big heavy boxes for you swells your heart. It’s also hilarious to see Thor actually struggling to carry something. Tony finds it amusing too given that he’s not doing any of the work but it’s sipping mimosas next to you. Thor grumbles about getting all the heavy boxes, but you also know Sam and Bucky purposely avoid the big ones.

If someone were to tell you ten years ago that you’d be saved from getting tortured by Hydra and become an Avenger, you’d tell them they’re delusional, but this is your life. Even after years of torture and pain, you considered yourself lucky. You could have been the new Soldat, ruined over and over again to be a war machine, but now you’re a trained assassin like Bucky and Nat with a broken leg.

You lean yourself against a wall in your room with your crutches beside you (along with Tony, of course, that lazy bum). Steve, Bucky, and Thor are carrying in boxes while Sam, Nat, and Peter help unpack some things. Today is the day you officially move into the tower with the rest of your teammates and due to your current disability, the other avengers offered to help you. Another reason why you consider yourself lucky.

Peter is by far the most adorable on the team. He’s fully unpacking for you, even arranging the frames on your shelves and the organizers on your desk. He at point made your bed when Steve brought in your blankets and sheets. Bucky has been super sweet, too, giving you funny looks every time he passes by and asking where the best spot for the box he is carrying to go.

But the one “avenger” you didn’t expect to be as helpful as he is, is Loki. The others told him to move out of the way, not wanting his condescending attitude to ruin the fun day, but Loki started to carry boxes in as well. The first time, the avengers were stunned by him, but then they were gracious because he used his magic to transport them, making the job go by quicker. Loki just stands at the bottom of the truck outside and wipes his hand over each cardboard box, sending it to your room.

You really are lucky.

-

Two days pass by and you decide to ignore your laziness and finally unpack the rest of your boxes. You attempt to push some photo boxes on the top of your shelves, but you find yourself stretching so hard to reach the top. Your foot injury really is stupid and you just want to be able to normal walk, or jump, or even go on your tip toes.

Then you hear a sly chuckle coming from behind you. You let out a frustrated sign knowing exactly who it is.

“Loki, if you’re going to stand there and laugh at me, could you least help me and laugh at me?”

“Of course, darling.” He jokes.

He comes up behind you and takes the box from your struggling fingertips and carefully paces it on top of the shelf.

“Is there anything else you helpless being needs help with?”

“I could use help with hanging my window curtains.”

You point to the box in the corner with your large sheer curtains folded in them. He chuckles and goes over the box, carefully picking them up and hanging them on the frame. You can’t help but notice his figure as he hangs them. He is a marvelous being and who are you to deny your eyes of such a sight?

The sight in front of you proved that you are lucky

-

Tony gathers the group for a game night and it results in everyone becoming drunk and children. At some point, it becomes a truth or drink game night and everyone has their poison. You have your legs laid over Loki’s lap, who was really hard to convince to join the game, and a bottle of Smirnoff Ice in your hand, only because Tony didn’t have anything else. Loki’s slowly running his fingers over your legs, but higher than your cast.

“Okay, Steve,” Natasha coos, “your turn. Have you ever done drugs?”

“I did marijuana in high school once.”

The whole team gasps and whistles at his answer.

“Captain ain’t so wholesome, now, is he?” Sam cackles.

“I remember that night,” Bucky laughs, “You were so high.”

Steve chuckles and nods his head before looking to see you cuddled up next to Loki and gets a wicked idea.

“Loki, you’ve been quiet. Your turn.”

“Please no, I’m beyond your little games.”

“Aw come on, brother! One question won’t hurt you,” Thor laughs.

“Who in this room would ever kiss?”

Tony whistles and takes a sip of his drink as everyone else laughs. You can feel the ice giant get slightly warm out of embarrassment. His face is flushed with a rose pink color as you get nervous, lightly chuckling to himself.

“I uh…”

“Answer it. Answer it. Answer it.” Sam chants.

Everyone chuckles at the clear uncomfortableness of the god, not seeing him like this often.

“Y/N.” He whispers, almost too quiet for you to even hear.

“Louder, brother. I couldn’t hear you,” Thor says innocently.

“Y/N.”

You smile up at Loki in shock. He won’t look down to meet your eyes but stares straight out the window past Tony. The entire team cheers and chuckles.

“Oh, we’re never letting that one down.”

“How lucky am I?” You laugh.

-

You attempt to cook yourself some lunch but your stupid cast is getting in the way of moving around. It’s getting tiring to pick up your crutches every time you need a tool two feet away from you. Letting out a frustrated sigh, you hit the edge of the counter with the spatula in your hand.

“What is wrong, dearest?”

You turn your head to see Loki standing behind you with a concerned look on his face, this time not here to make fun of you.

“I’m tired of my stupid foot getting in the way of doing normal activities.”

“Darling, sit down. I’ll make lunch for you.”

“Loki, you really-”

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to.”

Loki picks you up and sets you down on the couch while also handing you the remote. He goes to the kitchen and attempts to resume your lunch.

“Sweetest, what are you cooking?”

You laugh really hard at his confusion.

“Fajitas.”

“What are those?”

“See Loki, it’s fine! You really don’t have to.”

“And I’m not going to. I’ll make Stark do it.”

Loki orders JARVIS to get Tony and finish making lunch for you. You laugh and shake your head at Loki as he sits down beside you on the couch. He starts to run his fingers through your hair but keeps getting caught in the tangles.

“Why is your hair like this?”

“It’s hard to do anything while standing up. I can barely brush my teeth without falling over.”

“Well, it looks like I’ll do that for you, too.”

“Loki, I swear if you-”

“No point in arguing. I’m going to assist you.”

You rolls your eyes at the cocky god as he smiles at you. Nuzzling your head into his neck, Loki holds you tightly in an embrace. Tony comes in to see you two cuddling and shakes his head.

“You are so lucky we love you.”

-

You wake up the next day to see Loki sleeping beside you on your bed. You try to remember anything that happened last night, but you were so tired, nothing comes to mind. If you didn’t have a broken foot, you would be concerned about waking up next to a god, but you also know he wouldn’t have done anything with your injury. He’s too kind (much to some disbelief).

“Good morning, darling.”

Loki leans over to you and kisses you on the forehead. He wasn’t as asleep as you thought he was, but you’re not complaining. Waking up beside this adonis isn’t the worst way to spend a morning.

“Good morning.”

“I don’t care what you say,” Loki smiles, brushing a piece of your hair behind your ear, “you’re staying in bed and I’m waiting on you.”

“That’s very sweet. Thank you.”

“I’m glad someone learned something last night.”

“Actually, I don’t remember a lot from last night. I was tired.”

“We bickered about me waiting on you, hand and foot.”

“Hmm, that sounds about right.”

“So, today I’m treating you like a proper princess.”

“Does that mean we’re together?”

Loki looks at you confused, but his face lights up when he realizes what you’re implying.

“I suppose so. In that case, my princess, I will wait on you.”

You watched as the god all day served you lunch and dinner. He brushed your hair and teeth. Helped you change clothes. Played your music to cheer you up. Even carried you to the bathroom when you had to go.

Thinking about all the things your friends have done for you and all of the things that Loki, your prince, has done, all you can say is how lucky you are.

[katzkinder]

London Bridge Is Falling Down

Envy Pair version of my Counting Sheep series! Himiko is my headcanon for the name of Mikuni's mother. Since Mikuni's name contains the character for "kingdom," I thought this name belonging to an ancient queen suited his mother well.

Mikuni is annoying.

That’s something Jeje has always known, ever since Mikuni was a child, ever since the first time he saw him, bounding around his mother’s skirts and throwing himself into Lily’s arms to be held and cuddled and fawned over while Jeje had slunk back to the cellars. Himiko had been so bright, back then, the rot of Envy not yet showing in a visible way, that tiny baby that would grow into his brother’s Eve gurgling happily in her arms.

Jeje was the one who had found him. Himiko had wept when she saw him, all the anger and hate leaving her at once, vanishing as if it never existed when she laid her eyes on the fragile little bundle, swaddled in soft fabrics with little gloves on his impossibly tiny hands. She had sobbed all the harder when she took the crying child from him, her hands shaking while she cradled him close, useless apologies spilling from her pretty lips. The body of the babe’s mother had rapidly been growing cold on the carpet, and little Misono… Would remember none of it.

(Jeje remembered all of it, though. He doesn’t think a single moment will ever fade from his mind, no matter how many eons pass)

As Mikuni had grown, with Jeje watching over him as a silent, imposing, guardian angel, always behind the boy’s mother while she had read bedtime stories to him, always so aware of those bright, bright, too bright eyes, Jeje had also become aware of a number of other things, and those things remained true into adulthood. Mikuni has all of his mother’s gorgeous looks (and some from his father, but admitting as such is just asking to be choked), her stubborn brightness, her sharp tongue and wit, but more than any of that...

Mikuni is annoying.

...Because he never listens to what’s good for him. Just like his mother before him, he had taken Jeje despite his warnings, and some bitter, sick part of Jeje had wanted him to. The same part of him that had given in to Himiko herself.

But, well, he’d always known Mikuni never listened, too.

He wonders if Lily knows, though he doubts that he’s aware, of those golden afternoons when Mikuni would sneak down to his hiding place and find him lurking near the boilers, the excited, terrified whispers of Lily’s children, his human children, chasing after the young heir as he confidently hopped down, step by step, into the “monster’s” lair.

They had talked. About nothing. About everything. Well, actually, Mikuni had talked, seemingly not caring that Jeje never said much back, incredible and beautiful and… Well, there was a reason everyone called Mikuni brilliant.

Jeje knew better, though.

***

The most annoying thing about Mikuni, in his opinion, is not how loud he is. It’s not his contrariness, or his capriciousness, or his constant, gnawing curiosity causing him to make mischief.

The most annoying thing about Mikuni was how badly he wanted people to think he was naturally good at everything.

See, Mikuni was smart. Jeje would give him that. But he was also very stupid. It wasn’t as if he lacked common sense, though sometimes Jeje wondered, but it was like Mikuni wanted people to resent him.

More than anyone Jeje had ever met, his Eve was a hard worker. Someone who hated owing others a single damn thing. It was that useless pride and sense of responsibility for things that couldn’t possibly be Mikuni’s fault, things Jeje suspected, no matter how much he denied it, Mikuni had learned, had internalized, from his father and from Lily, that was why Jeje refused to call Mikuni brilliant like everyone else.

...But he did shine. Like a candle in a darkened room. Like a beacon. Warm, and inviting, someone to warm himself beside, even knowing that that flame would burn him up, just like a moth.

The question was... Who would that flame melt into nothing first?

Jeje would be damned twice over if he let it be his Eve.

Turning away from way he had been watching the other man work late hours, hunched over Nod’s ledgers and planners and Mikuni’s own personal notebooks, where his pen scratched across the surfaces of each calculating profits, expenses, bills, new products and designs and promotions and planning trips, Jeje silently makes his way to their kitchen.

Burning the midnight oil just means you won’t have any left when you truly need it.

A snort, reaching for their cabinets. Of course, that’s what Mikuni had him for.

***

He’s gotten very good at brewing tea. Jeje isn’t much of a chef at all, but living with Mikuni for so long, it was practically guaranteed he’d learn to at least make a semi-decent cup, and thank god he had. He would have truly killed Mikuni by now if he hadn’t, he swears, the man is just as persnickety about his tea as Lily is with his coffee.

...He’s also gained a new appreciation for the stuff, but maybe that comes with the territory of spending hours upon hours listening to Mikuni’s one sided argument about the best ways to drink it. It’s hard not to be impressed with all the little details that goes into brewing what’s considered a perfect cup (by Mikuni’s standards, anyway), and even harder still to not feel a fondness for something that draws such genuine passion out of his once charge, now equal.

...It’s such an odd thought. He knows what people think. That Mikuni has always had a stranglehold on him. That Mikuni has always been in charge. That Mikuni has always been someone… Grown up.

Again. Jeje knows better.

He sets the temperature on their electric kettle, one purchased on one of their many visits to the British Isles, sits at their kitchen table, and waits. Thinks.

Mikuni has been grown up for a long time now. And he will continue to grow, and people will continue to think, no matter Jeje’s efforts, that he is a no good, conniving schemer who would sacrifice them all on a wish and a prayer and something like a maybe.

And, well, perhaps they aren’t wrong. Perhaps Jeje is a fool. But if he’s a fool, he’s a court jester, and as court jester he will make absolutely certain this time that the king does not make his mistakes without someone there to make fun of him for it, even if only behind closed doors, even if only between the two of them.

To everyone else, he is a dictator’s executioner, and that’s fine with him. Everyone else doesn’t matter.

His eyes drift to Mikuni’s favorite cup, one made of glass and painted with delicate, swooping strokes of gold, with lilies and a taupe lacquer surrounding all but a window through which one could admire the lovely colors of their favored drink. He takes it into his hands, so much larger than this tiny cup, and finds himself smiling as he turns the joint birthday gift from the Lust pair over and around, admires those intricate, fancy details that speak of quality and knowing down to the letter exactly what Mikuni’s tastes are.

Well.

Almost everyone.

***

The teapot has been warmed, the kettle filled with mineral water and piping hot, and by the time Jeje finishes steeping the loose leaf tea, their little kitchen clock, kitschy and cute and shaped like a cartoon chicken hatching from an egg, reads 2:17 in the morning.

Jeje picks up the cup, the container of melatonin supplements Mikuni has taken since he was twenty at his Servamp’s behest, and carefully carries both back to where he knows the other man will still be completely absorbed in his work.

True to form, Mikuni is still at it. The predictability of his late night, sleepless habits, of his need to do something with his time, makes Jeje’s frown deepen, ever so slightly.

He wishes Mikuni would just rest. Close his eyes, not do anything, just lie there and let Jeje guard him, just be still, be quiet, like did when he was a child.

… He knows better than to think a mind as stubborn and that moves as fast as his Eve’s could ever achieve that, but he can dream. He can also just sicc the Lust pair on him.

That’ll put him to bed real fast.

“What’re you grinning about over there?”

He startles, not having expected Mikuni to acknowledge his presence, and nearly sloshes hot chamomile with lavender onto the pretty little matching saucer that accompanied the cup. It’s a miracle it didn’t fall over completely. Jeje lets out a breath, so quiet it’s inaudible, and curses himself for forgetting that Mikuni can see him right now.

Then again, even if he was wearing his mask, Mikuni would have seen right through him.

He always does.

His Eve is watching him still, waiting for him to move, and then his eyes flick down to what Jeje has in his hands. His lips twist.

Jeje ignores it and continues to make his way over to where Mikuni had been peacefully working. They don’t speak a word to one another, and no sooner than Jeje sets his cargo down, he’s going back the way he came, knowing it’s useless to try and ply Mikuni with words or favors.

The man is annoying in his stubbornness, too.

He hears a sniff behind him, the scratch of pen on paper once more, but it isn’t long before that little noise stops again. A sigh. Jeje chances peering around the doorframe, smiling, just a tad, as a clearly frustrated Mikuni slaps his pen down onto the counter and picks up his cup, no doubt tempted by the smell of his favorite night time blend.

A swallow. Two.

Mikuni unscrews the lid on the melatonin gummies. Pops a couple into his mouth. Chews, and swallows. The tension leaves his shoulders. He allows himself to savor the warmth in his hands.

Jeje leaves him be and heads upstairs to their room, knowing Mikuni now won’t be far behind.

“Jeje,” Mikuni calls after him, voice soft in that way it sometimes, ever so rarely gets, so quiet Jeje almost misses it. “... You still really suck at this.”

Mikuni is annoying.

[kuroosmikasavolleyball]

Drunk Cedric=Honest Cedric

Abendrot

Abendrot: (n) the color of the sky when the sun is setting; a certain afterglow.

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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

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Drunk Cedric= Honest Cedric

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(a/n): Hey all! This is the third part of the series! Sorry if it’s posted a little late; I’m stumped with work right now. I don’t really have any side notes except that here’s where the story starts to get juicy. As always, feel free to like and republish, message or request me if you want. This is a safe and loving place for everyone, and any hate will be shut down. Love you guys, thanks for reading!

Taglist is open! Request to be in it<3

Part 3 summary: (Y/N) and twins are talking when a slightly drunk Cedric walks in. An alcoholic game and a walk to the Hufflepuff common may end up as a happy accident..or a bad mistake.

pairing: cedric x fem!reader(in ravenclaw)

genre: fluff, slight angst if you squint

warnings: alcohol(nothing except being drunk and funny).

word count: 0.9k

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“He’s going to drink? That’s not a good idea.”

(Y/N) started panicked very little; it was just a tiny feeling in her chest. But it was enough to think of the numerous possibilities of what could happen. He could do something rash like handing in his prefect badge, announcing something to the whole house, or even kissing someone els-

“Don’t worry ~Mom~. He told us he was coming here, so he must not be too drunk to climb all the stairs and stuff.” George cut her thoughts off.

The twins continued talking about their new inventions and something about a joke shop. Weasley’s Wizardly Wheezes order forms were about to be released and there was no doubt that it would be a hit.

Fred speaks. “I hope Mum doesn’t find out for now. We don’t have enough money to start anything more than this but we’ll raise enough…I hope.”

“Don’t fret, you guys will definitely make a breakthrough. 3W is what everyone needs right about now.”

“3W? What does that mean? You’re not supporting some other joke business, are you?” George scanned your eyes in all seriousness.

“Oh never. 3W is Weasley’s Wizardly Wheezes; I just don’t want to say that tongue twister every single time.”

The twins murmured among themselves. “Try saying that 5 times faster.” “Weasley’s Wizardly Wheezes, Weasley’s Wizardly Wheezes..”

(Y/N)’s mind went back to Cedric. As if on cue, the Hufflepuff stumbled in, his cheeks flushed.

“Oh my god, Cedric are you okay? How much did you drink?”

“Don’t worry (Y/N), I didn’t drink much. The stairs just randomly shifted; I thought I had it all down after 6 years but I guess not..”

“Goody-two-shoes remains. I guess this means time for a drinking game.” George goes looking for the hidden bottle of alcohol.

“A WHAT GAME? I have a quidditch match tomorrow in case you forgot, and Ced can’t drink more.”

“Shush smarty. He can tap out whenever he wants to. As for you, I have non-alcoholic sparkling grape water.”

“Ew, I hate that. Can’t we just get regular water or somet- oh. The whole point is to not want to drink..ok I get it.”

Cedric giggled to himself and slumped down on the one-seater couch. He looked at (Y/N), and kept looking, and looked even more..

“Alright let’s start! But not get too drunk because I don’t want to be too hungover for (Y/N)’s match.” Fred exclaimed.

“Wow you’re so thoughtful.” (Y/N) sarcastically said. “Anyways, we ask questions and your have to either tell the truth or drink if you can’t say.”

The game lasted 30 minutes until George got drunk enough that he was panicking about homework; he only had 4 shots. Who knew he was a bit of a lightweight?

Cedric drank some too, but only because the twins kept asking him about sexual preferences and he wasn’t stupid enough to blurt anything out.

(Y/N) then announced, “I’m gonna go take Ced to his common room. You two aren’t as drunk and I’m pretty sure you can handle going down one floor, but Ced has to go further and I don’t want him to go alone. Is that cool?”

“Yeah of course. Come along, Georgie. Goodnight, (N/N), Diggory.” Fred winked as he looked from Cedric to (Y/N) and the door closed behind them.

She rolled her eyes and turned towards Cedric, who was already looking at her. “Do you feel ok enough to go now?”

“..Yeah..yeah, of course. Let’s go.” He slurred a little.

The walk to the Hufflepuff common room was mostly quiet except for a few whispers and giggles. (Y/N) kept a light hand on Cedric’s muscles arm as a support in case he tripped. As they reached the wooden door, she took in the sight of a red-cheeked Cedric in almost darkness. His flush of color was definitely because of the alcohol, right?

“Well, this is it. Goodnight Ced, try to get good sleep; I don’t want you missing anything about tomorrow’s match.” (Y/N) mood shifts from serious to teasing.

Cedric puts a hand over his heart. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

They smile at each other, holding back these..unspoken emotions they are both too determined to hide. (Y/N) turns around and starts towards the stairs when a hand grabs her wrist. “Wait, actually..I have something I need to ask you.”

“Huh? Ced, you’re drunk; go sleep.”

“No…please. Did you guys do anything with amortentia yet? In Snape’s class?”

“N-no not yet. I know about it though. Ced, what is this about?”

“…I smelled the quidditch pitch, gardenias, and paint supplies.”

Her heartbeat was suddenly really noticeable.

She had been a chaser for 4 years now, and Cedric a seeker for the same amount of time.

Her perfume was of gardenias.

She loved to paint.

Stop.

“You’re definitely getting confused Ced, I-“ -“No, I’m not. I’m serious. I..like you. Like. A lot.”

Cedric cuts her off, showing this was not a joke.

“Stop it. You’re drunk and this isn’t funny. You won’t even remember this in the morning Ced; this is not fair.”

He steps a bit closer, ever the gentleman. He gave (Y/N) time to think, but she didn’t move. Did she actually want this? His face seemed closer and- No!

“I can’t do this right now. Goodnight.”

(Y/N) slightly pushed Cedric off and hurried up the stairs, leaving him to do nothing but go to bed.

“What the hell just happened?”

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[shoot-the-oneshot]

Counting the days: day 1

Series summary. You go to a friends bachelorette party in Italy and meet the man of your dreams, NOT, you didn’t see the part where you get kidnapped by a gangster on your friends itinerary. How will you handle being thrown into a life of guns and mafias.

Massimo Torricelli x Reader

Series masterlist

A week in Italy, your dream vacation. Only difference is when you imagined it you didn’t see the screaming girls surrounding you.

Sinking further into your seat when the squeals start up again. Your eyes shifting to to the right when Ally jumps in the empty seat next to you.

“You know I don’t think planes work like that.”

You tease, seeing equal annoyance on her face. You both loved Katie, the bride to be.

But her friends that seem determined to hit a new octave with their high pitched yells, not so much.

“Oh hush we’re already here they won’t say anything. Plus you didn’t just spend ten hours sitting next to a freakin squeaky toy.”

Laughing as you pushed her out of the way to grab your bag. Her grabbing hers as you pass her seat when the plane stops.

“Y/n, Ally, come on the cars waiting!”

Katie yells, still wearing a very inappropriate headband which is one of the reasons the two of us were keeping our distance until now. When we meet the group outside they immediately shove sashes over our heads. Ally was miss behaving, while I was hot mess. Rolling my eyes while she laughs.

“At lest you’re hot.”

After dinner we went to the resorts bar and took up a cabana by the pool. After a few hours of her housewife friends throwing subtle digs at you for being not being married yet.

“Clarity!”

“I’m just saying, Y/n is a pretty girl but she can’t wait to settle down forever.”

“Yeah I’d take your advice if I wanted my husband to be sleeping with his assistant.”

Ally coughs as she choked on her drink laughing while everyone else is still shocked that you even knew that. You didn’t, it was a guess but judging by her face you hit the nail on the head. As politely as you could you excused yourself saying you needed to find a bathroom, more like you needed the bar.

While you were still ranting in your head you accidentally bumped into a hard chest. Mumbling apologizes as you backed off, stopping as you looked at his face. Hello tall Italian and handsome. Taking a moment to look him over wearing all black, a few tattoos you can see, intense look in his eyes. As hot as he was there was something about him that send warnings off in your head.

“Are you lost babygirl?”

Before you could reply Ally comes running up, and starts shaking you.

“Y/n, that was amazing did you see her face!”

When you looked back for mystery man he was gone, so you let your guard down and let her drag you to the bar while telling you about the reactions you missed.

You’ve been here for five days. Just enough for you to fall in love with the place and your tan to be just right. You and Ally thankfully shared a room and while the champagne that room service brought every night that neither of you ordered creeped you out your roommate loved it.

And right now was a moment you were happy for the alcohol. The party was out at a restaurant while the food was amazing the company, not so much. Charity has made it her mission to get under your skin and while you found it funny Ally did not.

“Men don’t like women that drink Y/n”

“Shut it Karen!”

“It’s Charity!

“Sure!”

Seeing the two bicker you didn’t want it to ruin your friends bachelorette vacation. Taking yourself from equation was the best option, it was easy enough to slide away coming up with some lie about feeling sick and wanting to go back to the hotel.

Giving a few hugs to the people you actually like before taking your leave. The city was beautiful at night but you were definitely lost. While you weren’t exactly heading back immediately you’d like to at least know what direction the hotel was in.

Just as you were about to give in and call a taxi, the trashcans down the alley suddenly tipped over, your hand coming up to your chest to calm your breathing, laughing when a cat came running out. Turning around you bumped into someone for the second time this week and this man sent up red flags too.

And you should probably learn to listen to those instincts, because the next think you know everything went black.

The first thing the went through your head when you woke up was that this definitely wasn’t your hotel room or even the alley. You weren’t sure if you’d rather woken up here or back there. The room was beautiful, you can admit that. The dark floors and walls contrasted perfectly with the gold accents the biggest shower you’ve ever seen. Big double doors, wait doors! Almost tripping over the dress you were thankfully still wearing in you haste to get to the doors. Locked of course, you’ve seen enough criminal minds to know how this goes. They locked the doors but the windows however were open, Amateurs. They probably thought you wouldn’t risk the two story jump, but you’re pretty sure the climb down is better than what’s on the other side of those doors.

Pushing open the window, getting hit with the ocean breeze. The molding on the outside walls gave almost perfect steps for you to take down. You swear nothing had ever felt as good as the grass under your feet in that moment. you couldn't enjoy it for long before you heard yells, that was quick.

Gathering your dress in your hands you take off running. Looking for a way out when the voices started coming from all around you. You’re trapped, the only thing you can get to is the pool so that’s where you go.

Slowly getting into the pool to not create a splash, taking deep fast breaths until you see shadows come around the corner. Gasping once more slipping under the water keeping your back to the wall. You never thought you’d use anything you learned in those diving classes for once you were glad to be wrong.

All you heard was muffled voices, after what felt like forever they started to fade, waiting a few more seconds before coming up just to be safe. But before you could two hands reach through the water hauling you up.

Choking between screaming and gasping for air, barely noticing the man picking you up until he gently sets you down on a couch.

It’s mystery man! You can only see his back but you’re sure it’s him. Especially when he turned back. You didn’t see the towel that was around your shoulders until he finally spoke. Leaning on his arm that was resting above the very elaborate fireplace.

“Was the idea of being here so bad that you tried to kill yourself twice to get away?”

The words rolled off his tongue, thick with frustration and his Italian accent. Did he think you wanted to be here? You didn’t even know where here was. Oh if only you weren’t trapped in an episode of Dexter this situation would almost be hot.

“While it was incredibly stupid to jump out a window, I must admit I admire your dedication the pool was very smart. But if you try it again I will not be as kind.”

As his sentences went on the closer he got, step by step the more intimidating he became. He ended up only a few inches away from your face. Arms reaching the back of the couch trapping you between them.

“So next time don’t let you catch me”

Those were not the words he wanted to hear, he made that fact very clear but tugging the towel tighter around your neck and pulling you even closer as he growled.

“Don’t test me, If you run again I can always chain you to the bed. How would like that? Think you could run then?”

No you don’t, but you do think you can play nice and slip away once you gain his trust. So you kept quiet, taking your silence as cooperation he backs off back to the fireplace.

“Five years ago my life changed, I watched my father die by a bullet that was meant for the both of us. I didn’t see my life flash before my eyes I saw you, I’ve looked for you for years, no one believed you were real they said you were only my imagination, but when I saw you at the airport I knew I had to make you mine.”

You could see where everyone was coming from. You didn’t believe him either it was insane! “I’m not yours!” You couldn’t help but say. Now Y/n you really shouldn’t tell the psycho that he’s a psycho. You could hear Ally tell you now.

“I know, that’s why I’m giving you a chance to fall in love with me. Not because I forced you but because you want to. I’m giving you 365 days to love me and if in a year nothing changes I’ll let you go.”

Three words. What. The. Hell.

“I have a family, friends, a boyfriend! they’ll look for me!”

“My men have collected your things from the resort, your friends think you left to ease the tension with that woman. Your family thinks you found out your boyfriend cheated on you so you’re staying here to get over it. Y/n, if you give it a chance you’ll love me, I know you will. I’ll do everything to make you love me.”

DAY 2

❤️part one is done. I know it sucked but it will get better but hope you guys Liked it stay tuned for more. My request are still open!❤️

Series tag list: @calirindo

[iceshard1011]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Sanders Sides (Web Series) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders Characters: Deceit | Janus Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Additional Tags: pre janus' photoshoot, he had no right looking that gorgeous okay, yeah literally got inspired by the fact that janus and roman wore the same lipstick, could be romantic or platonic, Insecurity, Self Confidence Issues, Deceit | Janus Sanders Angst, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders is a Sweetheart, who is only mentioned once, Making Up, (kind of), Hopeful Ending, Guilt, Makeover, In which i call myself a multishipper and then continuously go nuts over roceit, Ro goes from confused himbo to romance expert way too fast, and that's bias for you, Listen just because janus is self preservation doesn't mean he's got good self esteem, Janus ‘self care’ sanders: what is makeup, Fluff and Angst, Pre-Relationship Summary:

Janus needs to get ready for his turn for that stupid photoshoot idea Thomas offered him. He’s not exactly looking for help, but he gets it anyway.

And… maybe something more.

2k word fic under the cut :)

The mindscape hadn’t seen much of it’s self-proclaimed prince lately. It was painfully noticeable, given the halls weren’t being deafened by singing, and no one was as challengeable or as willing to bicker as much anymore. Patton’s smile was just this side of strained at breakfast. Logan would look up, eyes sparkling and eyebrow half-raised, the beginnings of something on his tongue before he would remember there was no one to say it to. Virgil kept sneaking sideways glances towards the staircase, as if no one could see him.

Not that Janus was bothered, of course. He had always preferred peace and quiet over chaos. He had just… become slightly acclimated to it during his years with Remus.

Except… it did make things exceptionally difficult when Janus needed something.

Even more so when he didn’t know exactly what it was he wanted.

Janus tried not to curl his lip too much as he stared at his reflection. Stupid sides and stupid Thomas and his followers and his own stupid thoughts. This looked wrong and felt wrong and Janus was a few seconds away from burning this damn —

An opening door. It creaked slightly, not enough that it was Virgil’s, but certainly not Logan’s. It was opened hesitantly, not something that Patton would have much reason for. Perfect.

Janus stuck to the shadows as he slunk down the hallway. It was unnecessary, as had been prefaced many times by the others — even Virgil had caught him at one point, in the middle of slithering silently into the kitchen for something to drink.

“You don’t have to do that,” Virgil had said. “You’re allowed to get something to eat.” (Janus had not pointed out that his throat had been parched and itching for water from a dying scream after flashing images had raped his sleeping mind.) “Plus, you look ridiculous skulking behind furniture like that, anyway.” Janus had flicked his tongue at him and left to get his water.

Roman hesitated at the top of the stairs before slowly making his way down. Janus didn’t know what he was looking for, but it didn’t seem to deter him. Once he was out of sight, Janus shot into his room, the door still creaking open.

What did he need? What was he going to need to put on? What were the requirements of this stupid activity?

He didn’t even know what he wanted. What would help? What would cover up enough that he fit the unspoken, stupid critera for these damn photos? What did foundation do? Would it dry his skin out? He was not in the mood to deal with brittle scales.

Lipstick. Roman had used lipstick in his photoshoot.

Janus shot forward and grabbed the first one of the display rack.

“Stealing now, are you?”

Janus whirled around, thankfully crushing the rather embarrassing squeak before it could escape.

“Oh,  absolutely,”  he purred, but the not-lie was immediately evident the moment Roman’s angry eyes trailed down to the lipstick clenched in his fist.

“You sly little —” The prince marched forward, face twisted dangerously, and despite himself, Janus found himself stepping backwards.

Roman wasn’t violent. He was brash, and impulsive, and when he pulled his sword on whatever startled him, but he had never, not once, used physical aggression to prove a point.

Janus found it hard to believe he would start now, but… Roman had never been driven to such a point before now.

And Janus was the reason.

It was when he had stalked close enough that their height differences were clear enough that under normal circumstances, Janus would be rather annoyed (now, however, he was only focusing on keeping his breath calm and his gaze level), that Roman seemed to notice the way Janus was dressed.

“What are you wearing?” he uttered, suddenly sounding far more confused than mad.

“Something that was certainly all my idea,” Janus hissed, waiting for the disbelieving eyebrow raise, for the look that said You? Really? Waiting, as tense as he had ever been, for more laughing.

Roman did nothing except manage to look even more lost. “Oh.”

Janus wasn’t sure if he felt irritated or guilty at the prince’s crestfallen look.

Irritated, apparently, as his thoughts began to hiss.

Oh, terribly sorry that I’ve been accepted like the rest of you. My apologies that I aim to help Thomas just like everyone else in this damn place. I am  so sorry  that for whatever godforsaken reason they asked me to put on these ridiculous —

“Well, hurry up and finish the look,” Roman said, as if resigning himself to a fate that no one asked him to.

Janus blinked at him.

Roman summoned a hand-held mirror and held it out towards him.

Janus didn’t quite say ‘what the hell’ — but it was close.

Roman seemed smart enough to read the baffled look on his face. “You can apply it here so I can be assured you will hand it back when you are done. I can’t trust someone like you to return it otherwise.”

“I’m sure you can replace a single stick,” Janus said, just slightly scathingly.

Roman didn’t seem discouraged. He expectantly held the mirror out further.

Janus’ stomach was writhing uncomfortably. He kept his face carefully blank, loath to betray how distasteful he found this, and glared at the mirror. He ignored the bemused look Roman gave him when he struggled with uncapping the lid, and fought against the slight tremors in his hand.

He didn’t get very far before Roman, looking absolutely scandalized, reared back like a startled horse. Janus paused when his mirror was yanked away and glared up at the prince.

“I would appreciate a limited amount of interruptions,” he began but Roman had already dumped the mirror and darted forward to snatch the lipstick from his hand. “Hey!”

“Why did you try applying it like that?” he cried. Janus shuffled, bewildered.

“I know exactly what you’re —”

“No, no,” Roman interrupted, waving his hands. “No. Stop. Come here.”

Janus bared his teeth. “Why?”

“You look like you’ve never applied makeup a day in your life,” Roman said, and suddenly Janus didn’t have any quips to reply with. Roman squinted. “You’ve never used makeup?”

“Because I have always had a reason to,” Janus snapped. Roman raised his hands, which surprised him.

“Right.” The prince beckoned again, but Janus remained rooted. What on earth was the moron trying to achieve?

Roman seemed to pick up on his hesitance, and leaned forward, quietly scrutinizing. Janus bit back on a snarl.

“When’s the shoot?” Roman asked.

“What?” Janus said, slightly more harsh than he intended.

“The photoshoot,” Roman clarified.

“Whenever I want,” Janus snapped.

Roman, rather than retorting, or recoiling, lit up. “Perfect!”

Janus slunk backwards. “What are you playing at, White Knight?”

A flash of confusion danced in Roman’s eyes for a split second before he lost himself in his excitement once more.

“Your makeup, Phantom of the Opera!” he shrilled, bouncing over to his vanity and pulling out the chair. “I’ll do it for the photoshoot! Come, sit, sit!” Janus narrowed his eyes. He didn’t move. Roman faltered. “Or… or not. I don’t —”

“Why?” Janus interjected.

“You can’t get dressed up without a little makeup,” Roman said with a smile.

“The others did,” Janus pointed out, but Roman waved him off.

“It’s imperative to feel good when you should be looking good!” He began to dig around in his draws, pulling out a variety of brushes and different coloured palettes. Janus didn’t know what any of them were for.

“What are you implying?” he asked slowly.

Roman paused long enough to level him with a skeptical look. “You, who came in here for makeup and got caught red handed… are trying to ask what I am getting at?”

Janus glared at him.

Roman gestured to the chair once more. “Sit.”

Sulking, Janus sat.

Roman studied him carefully for a moment before beginning to sort through his ridiculously large assortments of strange… makeup… things.

The prince started slowly, using an odd, coloured sponge, but Janus still flinched when the first cold sensation started to plaster his face.

Roman pulled back as well. “Sorry. Here, this is primer. It’s kind of like moisturiser.”

Janus’s tongue flicked in and out for a moment in consideration. Coming to a decision, he forced himself to sit still and allow Roman to start again. He must have realised Janus was still not entirely comfortable with this setting, so he began to offer what each tool was and what it did as he applied it to Janus’ face.

Primer, foundation, ‘concealer,’ whatever the hell  that was…

It was quiet for a few minutes while Janus let Roman work before he finally had to speak.

“You’re… not doing my other side.”

Roman didn’t pause, moving to pick a different brush and palette. “Your scales?” he asked, focusing on where he was working. Janus found the lack of eye contact oddly comforting.

“Why aren’t you covering them up?” Janus asked.

Roman did halt, then, and lowered the brush. He frowned slightly. “Why would I want to?”

The earnest in his voice made Janus falter. The prince’s genuine confusion made his chest feel impossibly wide and too warm. Roman had already resumed his work, completely clueless to what he’d done.

You fucking himbo, Janus thought.

“Close your eyes for me,” Roman instructed. Janus frowned at him. Roman didn’t seem to understand that kind of action required an amount of trust that Janus certainly did not have for him yet. He elaborated with a beseeching, “Please?”

Janus’ eyes closed.

He could tell Roman was pleased when he got back to work. “Keep your eyes relaxed, but don’t open them, unless you want a bunch of brush bristles where they should not be.”

“Pleasant,” Janus remarked.

“Very,” Roman agreed sagely. Janus bit down the smirk.

It was quiet again, apart from Roman beginning to hum the beginnings of a song. Janus didn’t recognise it, and he wasn’t even sure Roman knew he was doing it. But it wasn’t unpleasant, so Janus let it be. The lack of silence was comforting against any awkwardness that could have remained.

Eyeshadow, eyeliner, mascara.

Eventually, Roman leaned back, and beamed. “There.” He held up another — how many did he have? — handheld mirror. “Look!”

Janus looked.

Roman’s smile softened as he glanced between Janus’ face and his reflection. “You like it.” It wasn’t a question.

“How do you know?” Janus asked.

“I didn’t push any blush on your cheeks.”

Janus didn’t point out that Roman had moved his hand to Janus’ knee and it was burning through the skirt, but sure. Janus could agree that he didn’t  hate  the look Roman had given him.

Roman’s eyes scanned over Janus’ face once more, and this time Janus matched his gaze unwaveringly. A smile twitched at Roman’s lips, and the prince jumped.

“Oh! Almost forgot the whole reason this happened!” He twisted around and turned back, jabbing the lipstick at Janus’ face. It was jolting, and Janus jerked backwards against his own will. “Sorry, sorry.” Roman held a hand. “Come here, come back. I’ll be gentle, promise.”

Janus remained still as Roman lined his lips with the paint. The fingers pressed to the edge of his jawline rendered him rather useless against his instincts, anyway.

Roman’s eyebrows twitched downward for a second. He must have made a mistake, because he moved to carefully swipe a finger at the edge of Janus’ lips.

Goddamn it, this was such a mistake.

Janus swallowed.

Finally, after way too long how slow do you apply lipstick, Roman pulled back, seeming satisfied.

“Now you're ready for a photoshoot,” he decided.

Janus glanced back to his reflection. He still had some of his own details to add, but… yes. Janus could almost agree.

Roman went back to sorting through his various makeup supplies. Janus felt a little transfixed with the deft movements of the prince, how certain he moved, how he knew where everything needed to be. A confidence Janus had failed to see in… a very, very long time.

A sharp laugh, vicious and hurtful, the lie doing nothing to soften the blow —

Janus stood abruptly, the chair wobbling against the carpet. Roman glanced up. He seemed to remember where they had been before Janus’ makeover, and for a moment his eyes darkened. Janus braced himself for another argument.

Then Roman’s shoulders relaxed and he tilted his head. “Have fun,” he said. Then, after a moment, added, “You’ll kill it.”

Janus halted at the doorway before he could flee, taken off guard. He glanced down at the prince, who gifted him a small smile.

Janus didn’t smile back. He turned to study the doorway framework. “It would certainly be rather… dismal if you came down for dinner at some point tonight. Presumably, at the same time as everyone else.”

Roman raised an eyebrow, amused. “Oh, truly?” he said. His voice was warm.

Janus sighed theatrically. “Oh, I don’t know. I couldn't argue if you were to try to prove me wrong.”

Roman tossed his head. “Watch it, Noodles. You don’t want to defy a knight.”

“Perhaps not,” Janus mused, regarding a chip in the doorway’s wood. “But a hero never backs down from a challenge.”

He didn’t wait to see Roman’s expression. He wisped away down the hallway without looking back, without seeing what he could have just done.

Like a coward.

He may have just made things worse. He could have reversed everything that odd makeup session had built. He was well aware of the fact that if that was the case he should have kept his mouth shut.

But oddly, Roman’s silence hadn’t seemed heavy. He hadn’t tensed. He hadn’t shouted, or scowled, or slammed the door in Janus’ face.

Granted, Janus hadn’t given him a chance to, but…

As he slid into his room and quietly closed the door behind him, he didn’t feel horrible. And maybe that wasn’t a bad thing.

Now. He set his gaze on his closet, still open and waiting. Where was his hat?

[onelastbreath-writes]

I Spy

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales/Fem!Reader (AFAB, no y/n)

Word Count: 1.7K

Warnings: Brief mention of bad(abusive/manipulative) parents, general adult topics, swearing.

Summary: You meet a cute guy at a bar, you date, you fall in love, and oops, it turns out you’ve both been lying about your careers. Classified only stays classified until you get assigned a mission together. (SpecOps&Spies, with Young!Frankie)

A/N: Hey guys, I was bad and started another fic. Whoops. This one is for Triple Frontier because I love that soft boi Francisco. The flavour of this fic, the vibe if you will, is basically the spiderman pointing meme. I’ve vaguely set the timeline to like mid-2000s? so I’ll be trying my best to stay true to technology and aesthetic of the era. There was so much denim. Anyways, that means I’m trying to write for about a 27-33 year old Frankie and a similarly aged reader. I don’t see this series being more than a couple chapters at best, so it’ll be short and sweet. Also, like, very little angst if I can help it; I just want this one to be a good, cute, fun read. Hope y’all enjoy! Xoxo

[AO3][Masterlist]

“So, you’re coming out tonight, right? You’re not busy or anything?”

“Please don’t say it like that, you know how busy work actually is. And I’m a grown woman; if I didn’t want to go to a shady dive bar with you and your very loud friends from the office, I’d say so,” You loved your best friend, and you missed spending time together, but you really couldn’t say the same for her co-workers.

You had nothing against the women she worked with, and you found that they were all perfectly lovely and usually quite fun to be around… it was just that when the alcohol came out, the volume control and verbal filters disappeared.

You wouldn’t say that barhopping was what you’d prefer to be doing tonight, along with more or less babysitting your friend and her friends, but you didn’t know when you’d next be able to squeeze in a night off to just hang out and have fun, so this was happening. You would laugh and smile and keep the drunk secretaries from going home with questionable people, and then you would look back on your ladies’ night with fond memories until you could eventually attend another.

You had known when you picked your career that it would be an around-the-clock, all-day, every-day sort of thing. You never deluded yourself into thinking you would have much of a social life or long-term relationships. Most partners, hell even most friends, would have a problem with you jetting off for weekends, or disappearing for days at a time under mountains of paperwork and appointments.

It just made your best friend that much more important to you. You’d met as kids, went through years of school beside each other, hung out, did stupid teenager things and then stupid young adult things together. You’d cried and laughed and fought and made up a million times, you’d gone to different colleges and still kept in touch, moved away, moved back, and you were still going strong. She was your ride-or-die, your anchor and your parachute and everything in between, so if you could use some of your precious, hoarded, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it time off to see her, that’s just what you’d do.

“You should take some of that fire, and direct it at your boss. Tell him no for a change. I’d love to see his face at that!” She meant well, always trying to look out for you and your health when it came to your beyond demanding job. You weren’t even allowed to tell her a fraction of what you were doing in your professional life, and she knew it, but that didn’t stop her from being ready to throw fists at your employer at a moment’s notice.

“One does not simply tell the über-rich that they don’t need to fly to Paris, again. Being a PA is a full-time nannying gig, except your charge is an adult who can argue when you say no, and you cannot put them on timeout when they’re being a brat. Where he goes, I go, and unless something drastic happens, it will probably continue on like that for a while.” She laughed at your jokes, and your heart hurt a little less at her glee. You knew she would never give up on you or blame you for your work being unpredictable, but that didn’t make the sting of last-minute cancels and missed outings hurt any less, for either of you.

“But it must be nice, just getting on a plane and going somewhere amazing at the drop of a hat. Travelling the world like a superstar, meeting people, having amazing adventures with mysterious strangers…”

“Easy there, Mamma Mia, your wanderlust is showing. And I’d take you with me in a heartbeat if I could. You were born to be a jetsetter, not to be stuck in this town with nothing but the office cubicle beside you to stare at. And I still think you should apply for one of those immersive culture grants you keep mooning over. They’d be fools not to fund your writing expedition!” She was an incredible person, three full degrees to her name in the time it took a normal student to get one, and a brain that could run miles around the rest of the professionals in her field. But she was tethered to this quiet backwater town, and she wasn’t free to fly like she deserved.

“You know I can’t just… go, like you can. My mom, it’d just break her heart… I don’t want to leave her alone, not after Dad,” You honestly doubted that you’d ever meet a woman more horrible and undeserving of her own daughter’s kindness. Helen was a parasite full of lies and manipulations and greed, and she had attached herself like a bad rash to your friend after she’d chased away the rest of her family members.

Your friend searched for the good in everyone, but you wished she’d stop looking for it at that home.

“You deserve your own happiness and freedom, and she should be encouraging you to spread your wings if and when you’re ready.” Politicking your friend was never something you enjoyed. She was the last person you wanted to use your negotiating credentials and sly subterfuge tactics against, but you wanted, needed, her safety and health more. You considered it almost bribery; dangling her dream future in front of her in exchange of being rid of the garbage in her life.

“Hey now, we’re getting way too deep into sad-drunk night conversations, and this is strictly a happy-fun-drunk night. Please leave all baggage and woes at the door, thank you!” You admitted your defeat and surrendered your verbal power point on Why Helen Needs to Disappear. You would get her next time for sure, give her the accelerant to burn down that bridge. “Anyways, the reason I called was to remind you of our haunt for the night. One of the girls, Kelly, you remember Kelly, found this adorable little hole in the wall. A total boys’ club apparently: darts, pool, sports games on the TV, but Kelly’s sister’s friend’s brother Tyler said the place was a favourite of the local army guys. So, if nothing else, we’ll at least have some hunks to look at for a while. It’ll be great!”

You jotted down the directions to the bar as she listed them, and the time you were expected to arrive there.

“Oh! And wear that cute little blue number you bought last spring; I know you still have it so don’t you dare lie. It makes your ass and legs look divine, and I think you could stand to make a new acquaintance tonight.” That Little Blue Number was buried in the back of your closet where you had hoped it would remain forever, but luck was not on your side tonight it seemed. But it did make you look, and feel, fantastic.  It was just so… breezy. “And heels! Real ones, not your cute little personal assistant kitten heels. Those black strappy ones would work like a dream!” You just sighed dramatically into the receiver and agreed to her demands.

“I’ll let you go now, and yes, I suppose I can be presentable tonight, dress and all. See-ya later!”

---

Hole in the wall was right. This place was basically underground it was so on the D.L. It was warm inside though, and in the middle of autumn with so much skin on display, you could not be more pleased to get away from the chilled outside air.

You would describe the interior as comfortable with a hint of rustic; lots of warm dark wood and low lights, mixed with the soft Latin music crooning in the background and the few patrons’ conversations adding to the ambience.

All in all, it was probably the nicest dive bar you’d been to in your hometown.

Your party was easy to spot where they had claimed a group of pushed together tables towards the far side of the establishment, and you carefully made your way over to them in your tricky high heels.

You said your hellos to returning faces and introduced yourself to the new additions, and accepted the chair you were pointed to and the drink pressed into your hand.

And so, the hours rolled.

You had enjoyed two fruity cocktails and a flaming shot before you called it quits on the alcohol for the night. You still had a few hours to sober up enough to drive home safely, and you would be able to help the girls get to their rides and ways home too. You appreciated having a social drink or two, but you didn’t care for hangovers and would happily take slightly tipsy over party-hard drunk anytime. Plus, your contract stated you were on-call, always, and you could be required to navigate high-stress negotiations at the drop of a hat. It was just better to cut yourself off, then reap the consequences of your actions later.

You tapped your friend’s shoulder as you walked past and leaned over to talk into her ear. “I’m getting some water for the table; do you want anything else?”

“Mmmm, no I think we’re good for now, thanks!” She was plastered already, but she had a huge grin on her face and was laughing at her co-workers’ stories, so you considered it a win of a night. You gave her a pat goodbye and swayed your way to the bar.

But you just were not accounting for the uneven floorboards, or how much your heels affected your currently less than steady equilibrium, and before you could blink you were teetering over into a nasty fall.

“Whoa there, easy does it, muñequita” Arms wrapped around you and pulled you back into a warm chest. “Careful now, don’t go twisting an ankle in those fancy shoes.”

You certainly did not account for the man you turned around to face. Wow.

His hands glided respectfully from where he had caught you around the waist to your still bent and held out elbows, steadying you as you swayed dangerously again.

Warm brown eyes, soft brown curls, and the sweetest smile you’d ever seen. It felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest, and you knew that it wasn’t left over adrenaline from your near wipeout. He was gorgeous and handling you so gently, and you wanted to spend forever in that moment.

“Hey there, palomita, I’m Frankie, can I buy you a drink?”

[Next Part]

[mystic-shadows42]

Enamored

A/N: This may or may not be turned into a series. Yea or Nay?

Pairing: Ivar x reader

Warnings: Stalking, Teasing, Sexual references

Summary: Ivar is enamored with you. He goes where you go. He knows what you like. He wants to be the man that you deserve, but he puts up a strong front. Instead he teases you and makes you submit to him.

You knew he was following you. He can be quiet when he wants to be but your senses never let you down.

When you first found out Ivar would follow you everywhere, it surprised you. There was nothing special you did besides bustling about here and there. 

It was part of your duty as a thrall to serve him. Out of all the Lothbrok brothers, Ivar scared you. 

The fear would come from the way he speaks to others. He wasn’t nice to anyone but his mother. He was somewhat civil with his brothers.

There was never a good feeling you had when you’re near him. Your stomach would turn. 

You brushed off his actions figuring he was bored but would grow tired of following you. 

Boy were you wrong. 

This went on for months, so much that you were starting to lose count.

He never once spoke about it and neither did you. He had a temper that you didn’t want to test.

You can feel his eyes on you wherever you go and do. He never strayed too far but enough not to be obvious.

You placed your belongings on the table in the great hall preparing the table for dinner. 

Once you were done and everything was in place, Ivar was the first to arrive. He sat in his seat with his eyes trained on you.

His stare was intense. Whatever he did you promised yourself not to look at him. Even if you were afraid, you needed answers. Some sort of resolution as to why he’s been following you.

You decided to finally question him. Even if it meant stepping out of line. You needed to know where this little attraction of his came from.

“Were you following me today?” You asked in a low tone to not sound demanding.

“Me? No. There are other women vying for my attention. If you must know.”

You hummed in response. 

“It’s rude of you not to look at me when speaking.”

When you met his eyes his usual smirk was gone. He raised an eyebrow at you when you didn’t say anything else. He licked his lips and leaned forward in his seat clasping his hands together.

“You think I’m a liar?” 

“No, it was stupid of me to bring it up.” You tried to dismiss the subject immediately. You quickly regretted saying anything at all.

“Yeah, it was stupid of you.”

You looked away from him and started placing the food on the table. Ivar grabbed ahold of your wrist in a tight grip, pulling you towards him. You dropped a bowl of food on the floor in the process.

“Ivar you’re hurting me.” When he continued to tighten his hold over you that’s when you clawed at his hand. “Ivar please,” you pleaded in a desperate tone. 

Hurting Ivar or even touching him could lead you to even more trouble if he chooses. Right now you just wanted to be away from him. You didn’t want to end up like the child he killed when he was a kid. 

That story had circulated among the thralls since the day Aslaug purchased you from the slave trader.

“Let her go, Ivar.”

At the sound of Ubbe, Ivar let go. You held your sore wrist nursing the bruises that were bound to form.

Aslaug and her other boys entered as well.

“Don’t hurt the thrall Ivar. There aren’t as many good thralls nowadays.”

“I was just messing with her mother,” Ivar remarked in a condescending tone.

“No, you were scaring her. I don’t know where this fascination of yours came from?”

“If this was a fascination I would do a lot more than that.” Ivar took a sip of his drink with his eyes on you. His look sent shivers down your spine.

Ivar wasn’t one to be messed with. You finished setting up then picked up the mess on the floor.

They began talking amongst themselves. Ivar and Sigurd were bickering with each other as usual. Hvitserk talked of his latest conquests. Ubbe was quiet but would churp in now and then.

Once you were finally dismissed by Aslaug, Ivar grabbed a hold of your waist and sat you down on his lap.

“Mother, this is my form of entertainment. You can’t dismiss her so quickly.”

You squirmed on his lap not knowing whether to obey him or immediately leave. Aslaug did nothing to help you as she began eating.

“I want you to feed me.”

“You can feed yourself or are you incapable of that as well as your legs,” Sigurd remarked.

Ivar’s hand tightened around you making you wince.

“I don’t know with a beauty like that, I’d want her to feed me too,” Hvitserk said while chewing his food.

Ubbe rolled his eyes at his brothers then looked at you.

“You can go.”

It was a relief to hear that. You tried standing only for Ivar to hold you down.

“No no, she’s not going anywhere.”

“She doesn’t want to be here.”

“She’s a slave what does her opinion matter?”

“She’s a servant. A person like you and me.”

“Not like us.”

“If you want to impress her Ivar. This is not the way to do so.”

Ivar’s hold on you loosened enough for you to stand.

“You can go.” His face was impassive while he looked at his brother. You quickly left making yourself scarce for the rest of the day.

After that whole incident, you retired to the thralls cabin where you prepared yourself a hot bath. One that many of you hardly got anymore.

You got out of your dress and dropped it to your feet. The other thralls had their buckets as well and were cleaning themselves.

You put your hair up then settled in the large bucket. You began sponging yourself down reveling in the hot steamy bath that was relaxing your body.

You closed your eyes and settled yourself in the water. It was peaceful until one of the other thralls put her hand on your shoulder.

“Ivar’s watching you from outside.”

That immediately caught your attention. You opened your eyes wide, startled by the news.

“Don’t get scared. Who knows what he’ll do.” Even though you were freaking out you tried to hold it together in order to keep Ivar away.

The other thralls surrounded you and helped you put your clothes back on. One thing about being a thrall was being familiar with many of the women of all ages. It was a sisterhood.

You all heard a bang against the cabin and jumped up at the sound. The ominous sound of Ivar’s crutch against the wood was startling as he crept closer to the door.

Everyone tensed up.

Ivar opened the door letting it bang against the wall.

“Everybody out.”

Everybody started to hurry outside to steer clear of Ivar’s punishment. You tried to take cover behind the others but Ivar had already spotted you. He grabbed your arm and brought you forth in front of him.

The other ladies stood by the door waiting for you. They had worried looks on their faces.

“I’ll take care of her ladies. Now go.” 

They gave you a remorseful look but left to avoid Ivar’s wraith.

“Take the dress off.”

Your hands started to shake when he said that. You couldn’t disobey him for what he could possibly do to you. By fault, he was your master.

You held your breath and dropped your dress to the floor. Ivar gasped at the sight of you. His eyes were wide and bright as he looked over your body.

It brought you shame to have to do this. You crossed your arms over yourself. Ivar approached slowly. He circled you about three times.

He kissed the back of your shoulder making you shudder.

“You’re the first woman I’ve ever seen naked. Be proud of yourself. Your body is beautiful.”

Ivar walked out once he had his fun. 

You let out a deep breath you had been holding. He didn’t touch you and for that you were thankful.

Though next time you didn’t know what he’d do.

Tagged: @belovedcherry @lordsexmachine @lol-haha-joke​ @mariaenchanted​

[confusedweasleys]

Elemental Desire (Part One) - Stiles Stilinski x Reader

A/N: YO what is up kiddos?? I’m so happy to be back writing on here! And I’m on break so that means tons of stories for you lil ones! This is my first series that I’m writing and I’m super excited lol! (Also sorry I didn’t get to the prompt, that will come in later chapters hehe). Also, for the person who requested this, I decided to make it a series with Stiles (Teen Wolf)!

Request: @sry-stlinski

Prompt: “What a shocker, you have an excuse? (#142)

Triggers: Cursing, Mentions of Drinking, Panic Attack

Word Count: 2,573———————————————————————————————————

    “Y/N. Y/N. Y/N!” I jerked awake as someone gently shook my shoulder. 

“Ehg! Stiles get off me,” I said, slapping his hand away. “Why did you wake me up?” I groaned. 

“If you wouldn't fall asleep in class, I wouldn't have to wake you up,” he said cheerfully. He grabbed my bag. “Come on come onn,” he whined. “Let’s go, it’s lunchtime and I'm hungry.” I groaned. Why did I fall asleep? I really didn't want to have lunch with him today. With any of them really. But Stiles was already out of our history class with my bag. Slumping my shoulders in resignation, I followed him into the hall. “Come on I’m hungry,” Stiles whined, waiting for me to catch up with him. I huffed. 

“Stiles, I have homework to do.” 

"See that is just not true,” he said, smiling at me. “We take all the same classes, and I know for a fact that essay we just handed in was your last assignment before winter break. So not only do you have lunch free, you are also free all of winter break,” he finished. Stiles looked at me with a satisfied smile. I groaned again, knowing he was right. 

“Fine,” I said, following him to our lunch spot. Recently, the little pack had taken to sitting outside. Although I’d been avoiding everyone lately, I did enjoy the change from the stuffy cafeteria. I trailed behind Stiles as we reached the group, wincing. They don’t want you here Y/N. The voice was in my head again. No one wants you here. Leave before they notice you. I pushed the voice out of my head and walked towards my friends. I settle between Stiles and Kira, resting my head of Kira’s shoulders. 

    I wouldn’t say that I’m good at making friends, but something about Kira and I clicked. From the first day I met her, she was always there for me and I was always there for her. That was just how it worked. Even with the comfort of my best friend, I felt anxious as I looked around the group of people laughing and talking. You aren't welcome here. I closed my eyes and tried to calm down as I noticed the dirt start to shift below me, and the breeze pick up ever so slightly. Kira seemed to notice my shift in demeanor and looked over at me as the voice returned in my head. They don’t want you here. He doesn't want you here. The wind picked up even more, to the point where a few of Lydia's papers flew away. I sat up abruptly and grabbed my backpack from Stiles' lap, trying to stay calm and shut the voice out at the same time. “Shit guys, I forgot to turn in my essay!” I exclaimed as I rushed into the school building. I barely made it into the girls’ bathroom before the voice broke through into my head. They don’t want you. They don’t like you. You are nothing. You are nothing. You are nothing to them. You are nothing to him. I squeezed my eyes shut. Stop, stop, stop, please stop, I thought. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. "Stop please stop!” I screamed out loud, feeling a rush of power through my chest. I felt a wave of water drench my entire person. Opening my eyes, I realized the entire bathroom was soaking wet. What the fuck. Did I do that? I started mentally panicking. Was there another monster or demon in this town. We had had a weird year last year certainly, but everyone had agreed that it was over. What is going on? I groaned and wiped the tears and water my face off with a few paper towels. Crying was common enough. Being completely drenched from head to toe? That might catch a few more stares. 

    I tried to clean myself up as best as I could before leaving the girls' bathroom - and running directly into someone. “Oh I'm so sorry, I wasn't looking-” 

“Y/N?” 

“Stiles?” 

“Why are you soaking wet?” he asked, blinking his eyes in confusion. “It’s freezing outside. Are you ok?” 

“Oh I’m fine,” I lied. “What are you doing going into the girls' bathroom,” I said, attempting to quickly change the subject. 

“I wanted to see why you just lied and ran away from our friends,” he said, raising his eyebrows at me. “But now I’m more curious as to why you’re soaking wet,” he said. 

“The girls’ bathroom was soaking wet, and I slipped and got completely drenched.” Another lie slipped out of my mouth. 

“Y/N, I’m not stupid. Your hair is soaking wet,” he said. 

“I told you, the bathroom was drenched.” 

“Fine. There was a huge puddle,” he said with his trademark sarcasm. “But I'm going to drive you home because you are completely drenched.” I bit my lip. I did not want to spend 15 minutes in the car alone with him. 

“Stiles you have class right now.”

“So do you,” he said cheerfully. “Come on we’re going,” he said, grabbing my shoulders and steering me out of the school before I had another chance to decline.

    I had decided the key to avoiding the topics I didn't want to talk about (basically boys and the supernatural) was to keep him continuously talking about literally anything else. Which meant I had to initiate the conversation. We got to his old jeep and I tossed my soaked bag in the back. “Feel like telling the truth yet?” he asked me. 

“I already did Stiles,” I said in a singsong voice. There goes that plan.

“So that would be a no,” he said, rolling his eyes and starting the car. “So what do you want to do tonight?” 

“Um, study,” S said, hoping to steer away from that topic as well. I really did not want to be hanging out with the group right now. With the scary supernatural voice in my head and well, her, the group wasn't exactly my happy place at the moment. 

“Yeah no, I don’t think so. It’s the first night of break. You will come ice skating with us and you will have fun. Then we will get drunk and you will have even more fun.” 

“Stiles,” I said, rolling my eyes. 

“Not taking no for an answer,” he said, swerving the car into a sharp left - the opposite direction of my house.

"Stiles where are we going?” I asked with an exasperated sigh. 

“To my house.” 

“I need clothes.” 

“No. You'll leave if I take you to your house.” 

“Fine. I’ll come out if I can get clothes and shower first. If you haven't noticed, my clothes are sopping wet and it’s 5 degrees outside.” Stiles eyes lit up as he smiled, and I couldn't help but smile back. This boy has way to much control over me. 

“Well that sounds like an offer I can’t refuse.” We talked for the rest of the drive back to my house, and we laughed and joked like we normally do. And even though I tried to hide it, I still heard the voice in the back of my head. he doesn't love you.

    Eventually, I was able to shower and get changed into very warm clothes. And I was dreading ice skating. I didn't think I would make it through the night with Lydia slightly flirting with Stiles while he looked at her like a puppy dog. It honestly made me sick to my stomach. So I made my way downstairs in a tee shirt and Christmas pajama bottoms, with the full intention of telling Stiles to go without me. I wasn't feeling well I would say. I walked to the living room where Stiles was laying on my couch hugging a pillow to his chest. “Nope,” he said, not even looking at me. 

“But-” 

“Go change,” he said, turning to face me. “You are feeling perfectly fine, and we are going to go have fun,” he said. “Now go change,” he said, throwing the pillow at me. I huffed and stomped back upstairs to quickly change. Fuck. How does this boy know me so well? 

    We drove to the small ice rink at lightning speed. Stiles informed me that because of my “little stunt”, everyone had beat us there. 

“Well if you hadn't forced me to come, you would be on time wouldn't you?” I said. 

“On time and alone. And sad,” he said, twisting his face into a look of mock sadness. I laughed and unbuckled my seatbelt as we reached the ice rink. It was a quaint little sight. The ices rink was full of skating families, couples, and friends, and decorated with every sort of Christmas lights. It looked like it should be on a Christmas card. Stiles and I grabbed our skates and went to lace them up. I smiled at my penguin socks as I laced up my skates at a much faster pace than Stiles. 

“Come on slowpoke, you made me come,” I said, poking his arm and putting. I skated, very clumsily I might add, to a familiar pair in the middle of the rink. “Kiraaaa,” I said as I skated right into her. Kira fell onto her butt. 

“Hi Y/N,” she said, laughing and groaning as Scott hauled her off the ice. "Where's your boy toy?” she asked me looking behind me. For a split second, I was confused, until I followed her gaze to a very clumsy Stiles making his way over to us. 

“The overgrown child, who is not my 'boy toy' I might add, is over there.” 

“Who’s not your boy toy?” Stiles asked winking at me. I rolled my eyes 

“Doesn't matter,” I said, grabbing Kira’s arm. “Come on, we're here to skate anyway. Sorry Scott, I'm stealing you girl,” I added. Kira, blushing like a madman, tightened her grip on my arm and rather forcefully led me away. She groaned as we skated away from the two boys. “Uh-uh-uh, payback,” I said, cutting her off before she could complain. Kira had known about my crush on stiles for pretty much the entire course of our friendship. I, in turn, had listened to her gush about Scott for the entire course of our friendship. Aside from repeatedly almost dying together, talking about our crushes on the two brunette boys was a key factor in our developing friendship. One year later, and things were still pretty much the same. Although, I was pretty sure Scott and Kira had hooked up. Whenever I asked her about she changed the subject. 

    Kira and I skated around the rink a few times, me seemingly getting worse over time, before deciding to rejoin the boys. After about ten minutes of searching for them on the small, crowded rink, Kira spotted them in line at the hot chocolate stand. Typical. Kira and I tugged off our skates before walking up behind them. “I just don't know what to do,” Stiles was saying to Scott. “There is absolutely no way she feels the same way.” 

“What's up guys,” Kira interrupted as my heart twisted in my chest. Of course Stiles would be talking about Lydia when she wasn't even here. that girl had a hold on Stiles so strong I was surprised he didn't literally fall at her feet. Her, not you. And right on cue. My lovely evil voice friend was back in my head. Get out, I thought back. Now is not the time. I tried to turn my attention back to the conversation, which just consisted of Scott trying to cover up whatever the two had been talking about while Stiles stuttered incoherently. I wonder if any of your friends actually like you. The voice pushed its way back into my head. Maybe they feel sorry for you like Stiles does. Everyone has someone in their life that is more important than you. Scott has Kira. And Stiles - 

“Stop it,” I said out loud. My three friends turned their heads towards me. “N-no not you guys,” I said, laughing shakily. I pointed my hand towards a kid a few yards away. “That kid was about to cut himself on his skates.” I lied through my teeth. Only Scott looked convinced. “Crap guys, it's almost nine!” I said, pretending to check my watch. “I forgot I was supposed to tutor someone tonight at 8:30. I'll see you guys later.” I turned around before anyone could respond and hurried to return my skates. 

“Y/N!” 

“Thank you, thank you! I said hurriedly, giving the rental man my skates back. “Y/N,” Stiles said catching up to me. “What the fuck is going on? I know you’re lying about having to trust someone tonight, and I know you were lying earlier today. What the fuck is going on?” he asked again.

“I’m not lying Stiles, I'm just stressed. It’s just making me a little crazy.” 

“You're lying again,” he said, clearly frustrated. 

“I’m not lying! Why do you even think I’m lying?” I said walking away from him. 

“Because I know you. You don’t rush off to random places or forget about appointments. You don’t forget to turn in assignments. And when you lie, you don’t make I contact.”

“That’s not true,” I mumbled looking at my hands. Stiles stared pointedly at me. 

“Come on,” he said, pulling me back to the car. I resigned to getting into the passenger side, and he drove away from the crowded area. We drove in silence until he pulled off the road on the edge of the woods.

“I don't understand what you have going on in your life that is so bad or complicated that you can't tell me about it. We’ve always told each other everything. And now you’re acting weird and I don’t know how to help you,” he said. 

“I don't have anything going on!” I exclaimed, fling my arms into the air. “And I’m not acting weird! I’m fine.” I watched the air outside start to swirl. Fuck I need to get out of here. 

“If you won’t tell me what’s bothering you and you need some time that’s fine. Let's go do something. Just the two of us. We can at least take your mind off of whatever is stressing you out.” 

“Nothing is stressing me out,” I said, growing more agitated. He doesn't actually care about you. He feels bad for you. “Stop, stop, stop!” I said, feeling something build inside me. Outside the car, the air swirled more intensely as it was joined by flurries of snow. Stiles looked at me, bewildered. 

“Yes, you are obviously the epitome of fine,” he said sarcastically. “You need to calm down,” he said, turning serious in an instant. “I think you're having a panic attack,” he said. 

“No no no,” I said. “I-I need to go,” I said. 

“What?” he said even more bewildered. “Where?” 

“I-I was supposed to be home a half-hour ago,” I said, clenching my fists. Stay calm. 

“What a shocker, another excuse,” he said dryly. His sarcasm quickly turned to real concern again as tears pricked the corners of my eyes. “Y/N what is going on?” he asked again in a pleading voice. “Please,” he said quietly. “Talk to me.” Don't talk to him. He doesn't really care. 

“I need to go,” I said, fumbling for the door. Stiles tried to lock the doors, but it was too late. I scrambled out of the car and into the woods. 

“Y/N no!” he shouted. “No, come back!” He ran out of the car after me, but I had a huge head start. He wouldn't catch up to me. I ran through the woods as a sob wracked through me. Violent wind and snow swirled around me so powerfully I couldn't even control the direction of my momentum. And like a mantra, the voice began again. Unloved. Worthless. Friendless. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. 

“Stop! STOP!” I screamed. I felt a huge weight burst from my chest as wind and snow swirled seemingly straight from my body and into the sky. And then I passed out in the snow.

[kristallioness]

Primary care

Summary: Aang acts as a primary caregiver to Katara while she's suffering from the flu.

Word count: 10,168

Author's note: This one-shot idea came from a scene in the "My Family" series (season 2 episode 5). Susan, the mother in the family, was sick with the flu and she lay in bed when her husband Ben came home. He tricked her into thinking that he was gonna kiss her, but then he did something else that surprised her. So I thought how this would be really cute if Aang did the same to Katara. Now it's 10k+ words of Aang nursing Katara back to health. So.. much.. FLUFF!!! Here's an "official" illustration, too. Thanks goes to @thecaroliner for providing me with some ideas! There's a continuation from an old fic of mine inspired by @katarapy's post (yes, I'm tagging you so you'd definitely see this and know that you can read it any time you want). Also, I went to my very first health check this November and I was a bit anxious, but the doctor was really sweet and the way she talked to me helped me relax. She did something that made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside and, at the same time, soothed me. So, of course, I added a tidbit in the middle of a scene that I thought was already planned out here. It became cuter. Whoever guesses correctly gets a cookie from me. Plus, I translated some Estonian lyrics from a very beautiful song and wrote them into the dialogue. If any of you guys can figure out which sentence it is that Aang says to Katara, you've earned two cookies! *waiting with a tray of cookies*

----------x----------

Katara rolled onto her other side. She could hear someone coming up the stairs, faintly. To be honest, she wasn't sure whether she could rely on the precision of her ears right now. Given how heavy her entire noggin felt.

She opened her eyes and stared at the bedroom door as her husband returned from the kitchen. Aang had a mischievous smile on his face as he approached their bed.

"It'll be another 10 minutes before the soup's done."

Katara's stomach growled at the mere mention of food. She found it hard to keep anything down for the past day and a half. Sometimes she'd get sick from simply smelling something she couldn't stand thanks to her upset tummy.

"Mmm.. thanks," she mumbled, covering her mouth for a second to cough. Otherwise, she remained hidden under the blanket.

Aang began fluffing the pillows she was surrounded with while they waited for lunch. He and Yee-Li, one of the first members of the air acolytes, had been busy preparing a simple noodle soup just for her.

The airbender did most of the cooking, but the young nun was more than happy to help keep an eye on the boiling water and stir the ingredients while he went to check on his wife. She'd promised to bring the soup to their bedroom herself, even after Aang had insisted that it wasn't necessary.

Katara propped herself up on her elbows for a second so he could fluff the pillow under her head.

"I know what would make you feel better."

She quirked an eyebrow as she lay back down and her husband perched on the edge of the bed.

"Really? And what would that be?"

Aang nudged closer to her, running a hand over the corner of her mouth.

"How about a quick kiss?"

"Aang, no. You'll get sick, too."

As if to prove her point, another short coughing fit hit her. She turned her head the other way and held a hand in front of her mouth until it stopped tickling her throat.

"See what I mean?"

"Please? Just humor me," he begged.

Katara shrugged her shoulders, but played along. She closed her eyes and puckered her lips, slightly leaning forward to prepare herself for the kiss. She didn't expect a glass tube to intrude her mouth instead.

"It's okay!" Aang said when she clearly startled.

"I just wanted to take your temperature."

He caressed her cheek to calm her down. Katara stared at the thermometer between her lips, after which she giggled and sucked the tip further in so she could tuck it under her tongue.

"Well, that did cheer me up. Thank-sh!"

"You're welcome!"

He chuckled at the way she hissed her 'S'-s now. But he couldn't really blame her since she had that stick of glass protruding from her mouth.

Aang reached for the small piece of cloth on the nightstand. He dipped it into the bowl filled with cold water, then pressed the damp rag against her hot forehead. The cooling sensation helped ease her headache.

Katara shut her eyes and waited for the thermometer to do its work. She seemed so weak to him, ever since that fever broke out yesterday, along with the accompanying fatigue. Usually she was the one treating everyone else's ailments. But who'd be there to take care of the best healer in the world during her time of need?

She didn't even notice those five minutes go by when the airbender was already carefully pulling the thermometer out of her mouth to check the measurement. He barely got to fix where the silver line of mercury pointed to when she ducked over the edge of the bed and threw up into a wash basin.

Aang grabbed her loose hair so it wouldn't fall down in front of her mouth. Using a scrunchy to fasten most of it near the nape of her neck was a good call after the first time.

"There-there.. let it all out."

Those were leftovers from last night's dinner, which her stomach hadn't digested properly. He gently patted her back until she finished, or felt like there was nothing left to force back out. He rewarded her with a nice back rub instead while she remained dangling over the edge, waiting for more to come out.

Katara wiped at her mouth and climbed back up onto the bed, plopping down into the sea of pillows. Aang used some of the water from the bowl to waterbend the remnants of the vomit off the back of her hand. Then, he picked up a jug and poured some drinking water into a glass.

"Here, sweetie. Drink this."

While she was busy cleaning her mouth from the bitter taste, he managed to find out how high her fever was. 38.2 degrees, it was no wonder she felt so poorly. He didn't really notice how badly she was shivering until she'd sat up to drink.

"Are your chills getting worse?"

Katara raised one of her bare arms in front of his nose to show off her goosebumps.

"Uh-uh, I think so. My f-fever must be rising."

Great, stammering meant that it was about to get much worse for the next hour or two. Aang intended to stay by her side for as long as he could during this period. His fingertips rubbed the edge of their shared blanket.

"Isn't our blanket enough to keep you warm?"

"No. S-stupid thing's too thin.." she muttered under her breath and averted her gaze, annoyed that her body couldn't tell the difference between hot and cold.

The airbender scratched his beard for a few seconds before he flicked his fingers.

"I have an idea. How about if I helped keep you warm? Just until your fever starts coming down again."

Katara put her empty glass on the nightstand and gave him a slightly puzzled look.

"What do you have in mind?"

He stood up and pulled the blanket off the bed in one go, leaving her uncovered.

"Aang! Are you t-trying to make my fever worse!?" she exclaimed as she crossed her arms and pulled her knees up to her chest to keep warm somehow. Her anger dissipated when he wrapped his arms around her and the blanket fell down her back.

"No, I'm trying to make it more bearable for you."

Katara frowned and hung her head a bit while he made sure her shoulders, along with her sides, were covered. She grabbed the edges of the blanket to hold it tight around her upper body.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scream at you."

"Apology accepted."

Aang offered her a smile before he crawled onto the bed and sat down cross-legged right in front of her. He scooted closer and took a hold of her hands.

"Come here."

She inched forward until she got close enough for him to slip a hand under her thighs, the other one supporting her from her back. He helped her hop onto his lap, after which her body fell into place perfectly.

Her bottom fell into the empty space between his legs. She locked her legs around him, as if she was straddling him. At first, she wrapped her arms around his neck to embrace him. But when the blanket fell off, she instinctively snaked them around his chest instead. His red shawl fell down on her bare arms and he covered her bare feet with his long cape of the same colour.

"Oh, so this is what you had in mind," she remarked.

"Do you like it?"

Katara felt how he adjusted the blanket higher on her back and brought the edges over her shoulders again. Not only was she fully covered now, she was also being heated up by the warmth radiating from his body.

"Y-yes. Very much."

She nuzzled her nose into the crook of his neck and closed her eyes to take it all in. To take all the warmth in. But if she was taking it all in, she had to be giving something in return, right?

Shivers. Aang could feel her entire being tremble from every inch that touched his body. It was scary. He wished there was something he could do to make it stop. If only he had healing abilities like her...

That thought sparked another idea. He placed his hands on her back and began rubbing it in slow circles, similarly to how she'd do it with waterbending on a person's forehead to bring their fever down.

"Aang, c-cut it out," Katara interrupted him.

"What?"

"With the firebending. I'm afraid it'll make my f-fever worse."

"Oh, sorry!" he apologized and quickly took his hands off her back, as if he was close to breaking her spine or scared of hurting her if he held them there a second longer.

"Do you want me to cool you down with some airbending instead?" he offered, but he could sense her shake her head against his shoulder.

"No, just k-keep me warm."

"So, I should just.. hold you?"

"Yes. Hold me," she pleaded.

And he did. Aang hesitantly laid his hands on her back again to hold her close like she'd asked. He gently bumped his head against her own and let her be for a while.

Or he would've let her be if he hadn't heard a faint crackling noise behind his ears. That disturbing sound seemed eerily close by. It didn't take long for him to figure out the pattern he heard matched another one he could feel against his chest.

"Is.. is that your breathing?"

"Yeah-"

Katara couldn't even finish her answer before she had to cough and clear her throat of the phlegm. She glanced over her shoulder and spat it out into the basin, almost with the same accuracy as Toph would've done it.

"Do you want me to check if it's gotten worse?"

"No, not yet. Give me another 10 minutes.. P-please? This feels really nice."

She shuddered and hugged him tighter, her chin falling back on his shoulder. Aang chuckled and pulled her back into his embrace. She sensed how he planted a light kiss into her hair.

"Sure, anything you want."

Katara hummed at that. She enjoyed the silence and the feeling of his arms wrapped around her, keeping her safe. The only sound that accompanied them was her noisy breathing, and occasionally, her coughing.

Her breathing did sound terrible now that she was so close to him, chest to chest. More so that he was an airbender, and the way she was controlling her breathing didn't sound right to him.

Aang could tell she was burning up since she squeezed him harder once every minute or so. Besides that, her intense chills ran all over her body. He wasn't sure whether it was contagious or not, cause sometimes he couldn't distinguish her shivering from his own shaky movements.

"Don't be scared. I'm here. Doctor Aang will take good care of you, okay?"

His attempt at consoling her wasn't in vain. She mumbled something incoherent to him, then continued shivering. At least she'd heard what he'd said.

He wished there was a way for him to help her fight such a high fever. He settled for rubbing her back instead, without the firebending, to let her know that he's there and he could feel her suffering.

A couple of minutes later, the airbender looked over his shoulder when he heard someone coming upstairs and hurrying down the corridor. Yee-Li came to ask him if she should bring two bowls of soup, one for each of them. She slowed her pace and stopped behind the door, knocking three times against the wood before peeking inside.

"Avatar Aang, I'm sorry to disturb you-"

She was met with the sight of the airbender sitting in the middle of their bed, his wife cuddled in his arms and seemingly napping on his shoulder. Katara stirred a little after the disturbance, but her eyes remained closed. Yee-Li pointed a finger at the waterbender.

"Is she awake?" she whispered.

"Yeah, her fever's making her weary is all. Would you leave the soup on the stove for another 20 minutes or so and come back then? Katara wants to rest a little bit longer before she can eat."

"Of course! Take all the time you need. I'll be back in half an hour to check on you two, if that's okay."

"Yes, that suits us just fine. Thank you!"

The nun bowed to him before she left. Aang turned his attention back to Katara as she smacked her lips and wiped the drool from the corner of her mouth into his collar. She really had dozed off for a couple of minutes.

"C'mon, it's time for your midday healing session," he declared and tried to get her to sit up straight, but to no avail.

"Noooo.. I don't wanna.." she whined and curled up like a baby koalaotter. Aang attempted to untangle her hands from his sides, but for someone who was sick with the flu and drowsy, she had a pretty strong grip on him.

"You're so warm."

"Thanks, but flattering won't work. You told me not to fall for it."

She'd also told him that she wanted him to examine her condition thrice a day - in the morning, at noon and in the evenings. That way she could keep mental progress of her recovery and teach him how to act in case her condition got worse. It was no secret that she took full advantage of the pampering.

"Just 5 more minutes, please?"

She'd already stopped stammering, so that was a good sign. And her chills weren't as frequent anymore either.

"How about until we hear the next bison growl?"

Katara pondered for a second, then agreed to his terms. She nestled herself against him and shut her eyes, trying to make the most of it. Barely a minute passed before they both heard one.

"Darn it."

Her husband stifled his laughter while she unwillingly pushed herself off of him and stretched her arms, releasing a long yawn. Aang supported her from her back while she did, then adjusted the blanket back on her shoulders after that.

"Feel better?"

"Thanks. A little bit."

Katara shuddered for a second, but continued to freshen up. She waterbended some of the water from the bowl onto her palms, then splashed her face with it. She patted herself dry with the corner of their blanket. Aang cupped her cheek once she'd dried up.

"Look at me," he coaxed. She blinked and stared into his eyes while he did the same. His thumb gently grazed her cheekbone, pulling her lower eyelid down a bit.

"Are they still red?"

He inched closer to her face to check her other eye. She looked around the room so he could see the sclera from all sides, but it didn't matter where she looked. Aang nodded.

"Yeah, they are. Do they still ache, too?"

"Mhmm," she hummed and nodded in return. He caressed her cheek with gentle strokes a couple of times.

"At least you're still a sight for sore eyes."

He earned a giggle from her with that punny compliment.

"Aww, I'm flattered. And since you think so.."

Katara searched for one end of her white waistband and slowly unwrapped it from her middle. She put it aside on the bed, then grabbed the collar of her tunic and, with tiny wiggling movements, slipped it off her upper half.

Another shiver ran down her spine now that she was only wearing her sarashi. Her long, loose hair provided some warmth on her back until she quickly pulled the blanket back around herself.

"It's okay, I'm in no hurry," Aang assured her. He rubbed her arms while she took a couple of calming breaths and the sound of her teeth chattering quietened down.

"Brrr!"

Katara shook the last of her chills out of her system. She took a hold of either side of the blanket and put it in his palms.

"Cover me."

Aang held it up high enough to hide her near-naked form from the surroundings. This was the smallest and narrowest changing room she'd ever used.

She stripped to the waist by pulling the sarashi over her head, throwing it next to her waistband. Next, she took a hold of either side of her tunic, slipped her arms through and pulled it back on, leaving her chest slightly exposed. Just enough room for his fingers to dance around on.

Katara adjusted the edge of the blanket over her shoulders again, after which she untangled the fabric from his fingers. Once she had a firm grip on it, she laid her hands on his shoulders, forming a makeshift drape around herself.

"Okay, I'm ready."

Aang grinned at her before summoning a stream of water, which he used to lift her stethoscope off the nightstand and bring it to him.

There was a lot of basic doctor stuff he could do, and he could do it well. At least, that's how Katara thought of him as a physician. Among other things, he'd learned how to tie a sling around a broken arm and bandage up wounds, simply by observing her. Her teachings of modern medicine compensated for his lack of healing abilities.

She watched him put the earpieces into his ears and warm up the metal by blowing on it and rubbing it against his palm. He pressed the chestpiece below the collarbone on her right side to listen to her heart.

As if on cue, she coughed a moment later. Aang did his best to hide it, but the crackling inside of her made him grimace.

"How bad is it?" she whispered, a tad breathless.

"Sounds like you've just finished running a hundred laps around the island."

"That's pretty much how I feel, too."

He chuckled and moved the chestpiece to her left, hovering over the second listening point. Of all the things missing from her usual, cheerful self, at least she hadn't lost her sense of humor.

"Your heart is beating nicely."

He didn't see it, but the corners of her mouth curled into a smile. She found it comforting when he told her what he could hear in a hushed tone. She guessed it was another manner he'd picked up from all the times she'd been his doctor. Or, healer, to be exact.

Katara slouched a bit once he began listening from the middle of her chest. But the movement unintentionally made him worry that something's wrong, or that she might need to throw up again.

"Are you okay?" Aang wondered. She didn't look up and simply nodded.

"Yes. It's just, when I bend over a little, my heart falls closer to my ribcage and then you can hear it better."

"Oh.. I didn't know that."

She smiled at him as she laid a hand on his own, the one that was pressing the stethoscope against her chest.

"Well, now you do."

Mission accomplished, she'd managed to teach him something new. Katara withdrew her hand when he moved a bit southward, but she didn't break eye contact with him. Aang noticed her still smiling from the corner of his eye and he couldn't help but laugh.

"What? Why are you staring at me like that?"

"Nothing.. I'm just admiring how focused you look like. And, looking into your eyes helps me calm down."

"Are you sure it doesn't have the opposite effect?" he teased, leaving her with a slightly dumbfounded look on her face.

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, I can tell you it isn't working. Your heart's still beating pretty fast."

She pouted and huffed out a breath, which provoked another coughing fit. Aang rubbed her right side with his free hand while she turned around a bit to spit the phlegm out into the basin.

"Do you want something to drink?"

"No, no-no.." she said with a wave of her hand, then coughed once to clear her throat so she could speak normally.

"I'm fine. You can finish examining me."

Katara rested both her hands on his shoulders to pull the drape back up. He took her word for it and continued by brushing her tunic aside.

She didn't look, but she inhaled a tad sharply when she felt him press the chestpiece gently under her left breast. He'd gone through the pattern in the correct order according to her teachings, finishing with the M-point, where her heart murmured the softest rhythm into his ears. Hence the letter 'M'.

Katara averted her gaze to her bare chest while Aang looked at her face. She'd been really pale before she threw up earlier, but now the blush on her cheeks began to return. Whether she was aroused or it was just her fever showing, it was a good sign that she was feeling better at the moment.

"Do you want me to check your breathing, too?"

"Mhmm," she practically pleaded. Katara let him snake his hand against her left side and spread his fingers over her ribs. She took a couple of deep breaths so he could hear how her lung sounded, and waited until he repeated the same on her right side.

Aang grinned at her proudly while removing the earpieces from his ears.

"Good girl. You were a very obedient patient."

He tucked her chest in by pulling her tunic closer together, then leaned forward and rewarded her with a kiss on the forehead. She released a short giggle and booped his nose with her finger.

"And you make an excellent doctor, sweetie."

He sheepishly rubbed the back of his head and blushed a little.

"Thanks!"

"So did you hear any murmurs? Wheezing? Anything out of the ordi-"

Katara covered her mouth and looked away until she finished coughing again. Aang gave her some time to catch her breath.

"..ordinary?"

"No, not that I heard of. Unless you wanna check for yourself."

He offered the medical instrument to her, but she laid her hands over his own and slowly pushed them back.

"No, I believe you. After all, you have bigger ears than I do."

She pinched one of his ears as Aang blushed even more furiously at that comment.

"True, but I don't have the knowledge that you do."

The short fuzzy hair of his beard grazed her fingers as her hand skimmed over it and she began stroking his flushed cheek to comfort him. There was a sparkle that glinted in her otherwise tired eyes.

"You'll learn. You've been a good pupil so far."

"So, I still have hope for becoming a healer?"

Katara pursed her lips and stared at him from top to bottom.

"Mmm.. maybe not a healer, since you don't have healing abilities.. yet. But you have all the qualities of a good doctor. You're very caring.."

She rested a hand above his heart, her fingers scratching over the red fabric of his shawl.

"You have gentle hands. You don't rush your patient, and you helped her feel cosy and relaxed during the exam."

His smile grew with each compliment, just as his pride swelled in his chest.

"Aww, shucks.. Thank you, sifu healer!"

"But there's one more thing a good doctor does before his visit ends."

The airbender quirked an eyebrow.

"And what's that?"

"He prescribes medicine, or a specific kind of treatment to help the patient get better."

Katara glanced behind her shoulder and nodded towards the bottle of cough syrup on their nightstand. Aang picked up on her hint. He dropped the stethoscope on the mattress and bended a stream of water to lift up the bottle, along with a spoon next to it.

"Let's see if we can cure that nasty cough of yours."

He uncorked it and poured some of that special golden, honey-tasted syrup onto the spoon. He hesitated for a second and decided to have a tiny taste with the tip of his tongue.

"Aang, that's not meant for you!"

"Sorry, I can't help it! It tastes so sweet.. Okay, I promise, this next one's for you."

He poured some more to fill the entire spoonful this time.

"Open wide.."

She obeyed and let him feed it to her, swallowing the medicine with a loud gulp once he'd pulled the spoon out of her mouth.

"Good girl," Aang praised by running his free hand through her hair. She chuckled and laid her hand on his own, bringing it onto her warm cheek. She shut her weary eyes and let him stroke her for a minute, a content hum escaping her vocal cords.

That's when they heard someone coming up the stairs. Katara swiftly pulled one edge of the blanket over the other to cover her chest and make herself more decent. She smiled when she saw Yee-Li appear from the hallway.

"I hope I didn't come too early, but it's been almost half an hour.."

The air acolyte was carrying a tray of food in her hands, approaching them slowly in order not to spill anything. Her face lit up once she lifted her gaze from the tray to the merry couple in bed.

"Oh, Katara! It's good to see you up and about."

"I don't know about that.. I still feel pretty weak."

She released another wet cough, as if to demonstrate how sick she was. Aang held onto her shoulders while she bent over the edge of the bed and spat the phlegm out. Yee-Li knitted her brows in concern.

"I see your point. It's a good thing your husband helped me prepare this hot soup for you to help clear your airways. Where do you want me to put it?"

"Just put it on the vanity over there. We'll start eating in a minute," Aang said, pointing to the empty table with one hand while he rubbed Katara's back with the other.

"Sure! Do you need me to bring you guys anything else?" Yee-Li wondered as she dropped the tray off. The airbender had a quick look around, noting the food and water on the table, his wife's medical instruments and drugs scattered around them.

"Nah, I think we're good for now. Thanks for all the help!"

"You're welcome, Avatar Aang!" she said with a bow to him. Before leaving, she stepped over to his wife and tenderly stroked her head.

"Feel better soon, Katara!"

The waterbender giggled, but had to cover her mouth with the blanket when she started coughing again. She offered the young nun a grateful smile once she'd caught her breath.

"Thank you!"

After Yee-Li had given them some privacy, the two untangled their legs so they could move freely. Aang hopped up from the bed to go have a look at lunch.

Yee-Li had brought them two separate bowls filled with noodle soup, as well as two spoons and cups of tea. There was a single banana next to the tea. He sniffed either cup and could tell which one belonged to Katara. Everything on the tray smelled delicious.

"Okay, let's get you more comfortable," he declared as he stepped behind her. He piled a couple of pillows against the headboard, then helped her scoot backwards and lie down against the heap.

Katara watched how he fetched her ginger tea. She sat up a bit before he handed her the cup.

"Thanks!"

While she breathed on the steamy liquid and took the first couple of sips, the airbender had also grabbed her bowl and dropped the spoon inside. He perched on the edge of the bed and shifted closer to her.

"Aren't you gonna eat yours?"

"No, I wanna get some of this soup into you first. Your tummy must be really empty after, err.. spewing up last night's dinner."

Katara laid her free hand above her stomach as it growled. She agreed with a nod, then allowed him to feed her. Aang stopped and lifted the spoon straight up before he could.

"One more thing. As your doctor, I'd like you to show me your throat before you can have some soup."

She playfully rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue, blowing a short raspberry to that. Her husband laughed.

"Good one, sweetie. But that's just your tongue. Open wide!"

This time, she did as he asked and let him press her tongue down a bit with the spoon.

"Is it sore?" Aang wondered in a more concerned tone, withdrawing the makeshift tongue depressor from her mouth. She shook her head.

"Nope. I would've been begging for tea a long time ago if it was."

Katara was telling the truth. Besides the fact that it didn't look red, she couldn't have sat still for so long if she had a sore throat. If she did and she was too weak to move about, she would've asked him to boil more tea. During her worst days, she could gobble down more than 20 mugs of tea in a day. 20.. whole.. mugs...

But Aang was satisfied with her answer, hence he finally began catering to her nutritional needs. He breathed on each spoonful to cool down the broth before feeding it to her, so she wouldn't burn the inside of her mouth.

"By the way, how high was my fever?" she asked while he was busy lifting more noodles onto the spoon.

"38.2, but that was before you threw up and started to have chills. We can measure it again, if you want."

Katara chewed on the noodles a little bit and swallowed before answering.

"Yeah, I do."

She placed her small tea cup on the corner of the nightstand and he laid the half-empty soup bowl next to it. Having pushed the covers off and brushing her tunic off her right side, she raised her arm a little. She gave him a sly smile, her eyes half-lidded as she watched him tuck the thermometer under there.

Aang pulled her tunic back on her bare chest and wrapped the blanket around her for extra warmth. He did feel sorry for having to stop her subtle flirting, but her well-being came first.

"Cover up, sweetie. Don't want you catching pneumonia."

Katara let out a short giggle as he tucked her in, after which she let him feed her the rest of the soup while they waited. She reached out her hands when the bowl was practically empty.

"Gimme."

Aang obliged, watching while she pressed her lips against the round edge and slurped all of the remaining broth down. She wiped at her mouth and belched.

"Sounds like someone's full. At least I won't have to hear the sounds coming from your empty stomach for a while."

"What do you mean?" Katara asked as she handed the bowl to him and he put it aside.

"I could hear your tummy rumbling when I listened to your heart from here."

He pressed his index and middle finger on the lower half of her chest, right in the middle between her breasts. That made sense, he'd been close enough to hear what was going on in her stomach.

"It was practically begging for food. You really had me worried."

Her brows furrowed similarly to his as she let him rub small circles above her belly. She rested a hand on his own and joined in.

"I just hope I can keep the soup down long enough to digest most of it."

Her husband leaned over towards the tray to grab the banana. He offered it to her, but she crinkled her nose and shoved his hand away.

"No, please. I don't think I can stomach anything sweet right now, other than cough syrup."

"Okay, but let me know if there's anything else you'd like for dessert."

"No, not right now."

She licked her lips as she watched him take a bite out of the yellow fruit. If her stomach wasn't acting up, she would've gobbled it down in one go. She offered him an apologetic smile.

"But.. thanks, sweetie. I appreciate the offer."

Aang grazed her flushed cheek with the back of his free hand while he began eating his own lunch. Once he was done with the banana, he grabbed his bowl of noodle soup and slurped the still lukewarm broth.

Katara used the opportunity to check the measurement herself. After about five minutes had passed, she pulled the thermometer out from under her arm. The silvery line reflected back when she slowly tilted it in her hands.

"Well?"

"38.0."

"Not much of a change there," the airbender claimed with a shrug of his shoulders.

She swung the thermometer in the air a couple of times to get the measurement back to a normal 36.6 degrees, so they could use it again the next time. She wasn't too happy with that result.

"I could've sworn it went down a lot more than that."

Aang pressed a hand against her clammy forehead to check.

"Katara, you have the flu, not a cold."

She narrowed her eyes.

"Oh? And since when do you know the difference between a flu and a cold?"

"You told me yourself: 'High fever equals flu, low brings a cold to you.'"

Her expression melted into a proud smile. She tickled his chin with her finger for remembering the clever rhyme she'd made up.

"Like I said, you've learned well."

The airbender looked away shyly, his grey eyes fixing on the remaining broth in his bowl. He slurped the liquid down in her manner and then gathered the dirty dishes back onto the tray.

He also grabbed the stethoscope from the mattress and took the thermometer from his wife's hand, placing her medical instruments on the nightstand to clean up their surroundings a little bit.

Katara had curled up in the meantime. She wriggled her toes, the only part of her feet that stuck out from the blanket. She didn't flinch, but she blinked and looked up when her husband laid a hand on her temple once more. He smiled at her lovingly.

"Hey.. do you wanna go take a shower? You haven't changed clothes today. It'll help you feel a little better. That is, if you feel up for it."

She shut her weary eyes and nodded into his palm.

"Mmm.. A shower does sound nice."

Aang gave her another peck on her forehead, then squatted down in front of their vanity and opened the drawer containing her clothes. He picked out a light blue tunic with the same pattern as her current one, along with a clean pair of undergarments and a sarashi.

Katara had already managed to get herself up and sitting while he arranged her changing clothes next to her on the mattress. He offered her a hand, but she refused.

"Thanks, sweetie, but I can walk by myself."

That's what she claimed, but her actions spoke louder than words. She groaned the moment she had to push her achy body up on her feet, and she nearly collapsed after her first step. Aang quickly snaked an arm around her and held onto her hand to offer some support.

"Oh, I guess not."

"You're too weak. Please, let me carry you to the shower. It's the least I could do."

Katara thought for a second longer, then gave in before her muscles could. He scooped her up in his arms bridal style and started walking towards the bathroom.

She instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck to steady his balance, but it didn't help much since they fell right back down in her lap.

"You must be really tired."

"What makes you say that?"

"You don't even have the strength to hold onto me."

She let out a quiet chuckle, which turned into a cough. Her heavy noggin fell against his chest and she closed her eyes to enjoy the ride. He'd left out the comment about her slight wheezing after the mild exercise of getting up from bed.

Once they reached the shower, Aang carefully lowered her bare feet to the ground. As she stood up, his hands remained on her sides, slightly tickling her while she attempted to move closer to the stall.

He wasn't fully aware of it, but Katara was a master at holding all of the discomfort in. Every single movement was making her body scream for her to stop and just go back under the blanket. Without his presence, she would've called it quits halfway down the corridor and plopped straight back into their bed. But right now, he was her pillar of strength, literally.

She turned the tap and found enough strength to stand on her own while he slipped her sweaty tunic off her shoulders. She pulled her undergarments off and threw them in the basket of dirty clothes.

She startled a little when her husband stood behind her and slid his hands up along her sides, all while the water was already running.

"Aang, what are you doing? You're gonna get wet."

"I think you forgot that I'm a waterbender, too."

He handed her a bar of soap, orange and peach-scented, after which his hand landed back underneath her armpit to support her. Katara began untangling his fingers one by one from her other side.

"I can wash myself," she protested.

"But you can't stand for yourself. Now it's my turn to beg. Please, Katara, let me hold you."

She ceased plucking his fingers off her ribs, seeing that he planted them right back onto their original gaps. She heaved a sigh in defeat.

"Alright."

Aang smiled, gratefully. He found the courage to take another step closer to her, even though his arms were now getting soaked with the running water. He didn't care. All he cared about was taking care of her.

And to be honest, Katara also felt grateful that he didn't leave her side. She loved the way his hands skidded along her skin as she bended forward to splash her legs with the water. It tickled when she stood back up and his fingertips softly squished into the slight fat on her belly.

He gave her more room when she squatted down a bit to wash her intimate area. While she was busy rubbing the soap under her arms, Aang combed his fingers through her wet hair and down her back. She gave him a sideways glance, along with a smile. He considered it as a silent 'thank you'.

Katara didn't take too long to finish. She didn't want her flu to get worse, hence she had no intention of staying under the water any longer than she needed to.

The airbender left her standing on her own for a couple of seconds while he fetched her towel from the peg. She used the opportunity to wring the majority of the water out of her hair, and waterbend herself drier.

The sudden lack of warmth that came from the running water made her shiver. Until her husband approached her from behind and wrapped her into the fuzzy indigo towel.

"Here you go," Aang murmured as he tucked one side over the other on her chest.

"Thanks."

Katara grabbed his hand and lifted it up to her mouth, leaving a tender kiss on the light blue arrow on the back. After he'd waterbended the soapy water out of his own robes, she let him escort her back to their bedroom.

"Let's get you back into bed. Doctor's orders."

He wasn't sure whether it was her giggling, or a wave of chills that ran down her spine and made her tremble as they walked down the hallway side by side. She could've sworn his hands barely left her sides the entire time she was up on her feet.

It wasn't until they made it to the bedside that he gave her some space to dry up. Having rubbed her back, Katara let the towel fall down, using one half to pat her chest and tummy. Aang took a hold of the other half and softly stroked her back with it, as well as her backside, just in case she missed a spot.

He hung the damp towel on the corner of the bed and watched as she started dressing up in her changing clothes. He inched closer once she was wearing her underwear, and carefully pulled the rest of her loose hair out from the binding straps of her sarashi.

Katara puffed her hair and stretched her arms as she saw him grab her clean tunic from the mattress. She let him slip her hands through the sleeves, tucking it together on the front, and waited for him to tie a white waistband around her middle.

"How are you feeling?" Aang wondered. She hummed in thought, letting him finish the knot on the small of her back to keep the tunic together.

"Refreshed, not so sweaty.. but still pretty tired."

Her answer made him chuckle.

"Then the shower was a good idea," he stated proudly.

Like an exemplary gentleman, he lifted the blanket and helped his wife climb into their bed. Once Katara had settled down, Aang reached for another drawer in their vanity.

"Do you want some peace and quiet after such a tiresome morning, or are you up for playing some cards?"

He pulled out a maroon deck of cards and began shuffling them, a sly smile decorating his lips.

"Because, I'm not sure whether boredom is a fatal illness.."

Katara snorted as she began laughing a little, but she had to cover her mouth once her giggles were replaced with coughs.

"N-no-oh.. it definitely isn't fatal."

The airbender dealt five cards for both of them.

"What was the score again? Four to two, your advantage?"

Katara had felt really awful last night, so in order to cheer her up a bit and get her mind off her upset stomach, they'd started playing cards. The catch being that, whoever lost had to do something pleasant for the other.

If Aang lost, she'd get to pick a chore or something else that he had to do for her to make her feel better. Given that the score was four-two, he'd already lost quite a few times.

The first thing she'd asked him to do was bring her the pair of yellow woollen socks she'd knit for him during their first winter together as a couple. Since Aang had lost twice in a row, the next logical thing she'd requested was a relaxing foot massage to stimulate the blood flow.

If Katara lost, she'd have to eat something healthy that would help her fight against that flu. The third time didn't turn out to be a charm for her. So she was half-forced to pluck a couple of grapes from the bunch he'd brought for her from the kitchen. And she unwillingly ate them all. Of course, he'd given her lots of praise afterwards.

Katara eyed the two fire cards tucked behind her thumb. A Queen of Fire and an 8 of Fire. The element of fire was chosen to be the trump card for this game. She had four cards remaining in her hands.

Aang defended her attack with another water card, then waited for her to add another one on the table. Or, on the blanket, to be precise.

"Don't have anything else to throw down?"

She hummed in thought for a moment before her fingertips grabbed the corner of the smaller fire card. Slowly tugging at it, she decided to put it on the table. The airbender groaned and picked up the entire pile.

"Ha-ha! You were asking for it."

"Yeah, I guess I was a bit of an eager lemur."

Katara released a short cough and, keeping in mind what he'd picked up, she chose that tiny air card for her next move. Aang defended her attack with ease and since she couldn't add any more, it was his turn again.

Now she only had two cards left. The Queen of Fire and a 5 of Water. Aang played a Jack of Earth on the sheets. She had to decide whether she'd take the risk and defend it with the fire card, or pick it up right away. She went for the risk.

Katara pressed a finger to her lips as she waited for his next move. But it never came. Aang looked at his hand a second time, then shook his head and let her throw those two into the pile of used cards.

"I win! You're the fool, again!" she cheered as she threw her final card onto the table. The airbender accepted his defeat with dignity and grace.

"Okay, okay.. so what do you want me to do for you this time?" he asked while tidying up the pile into a deck. The waterbender had a look around the room, humming in thought as her eyes eventually fixed on the floor.

"Hmm.. maybe you could wash the basin and refill it with some clean water? The smell is kind of making me sick," she claimed as she pinched her nose. She wasn't too fond of having to stare at her own vomit every time her gaze dropped to the bedside.

Aang agreed with her reasoning. He stood up and lifted the basin into his hands, already making his way towards the door when Katara tugged at his cloak to stop him for a second.

"Would you take the towel back to the bathroom while you're at it? Put it up on the peg to dry."

"Hey, no fair! That's two things at once."

"Please?" she begged, tilting her head a little. He started to feel sorry for her since she seemed so poorly. He couldn't say 'no' to her slightly reddish puppy eyes.

"Oh, alright, sweetie.."

The airbender dropped the basin and swiftly spun around. He cupped her cheek and leaned down to leave a soft peck on her temple. His thumb ran over the blush on her cheek.

"But next time you lose, you gotta eat two different things at once. Okay?"

"Okay," she murmured.

Aang ran his fingers through her hair before he went to pick up the towel. He threw the damp thing over his shoulder, picked up the basin and began heading towards the bathroom.

"And maybe you can take the tray of dirty dishes to the kitchen, too?"

"Katara-aa.." he groaned from the hallway. He could hear her quiet snickering.

"Alright-alright.. you can take the tray with you the next time you lose," she shouted in return, then plopped into the bed.

Speaking of dampness, the waterbender ran a hand over her forehead, wiping off a few beads of sweat. Something that injected more contentment into her sore limbs. Her fever was going down again, even if it was by a few tenths of a degree.

Katara pushed herself closer to the edge and reached for the small rag, dipping a corner into the bowl of cold water. She softly patted her face with the wet part to cool herself.

Once she was done, she carefully put it back on the edge of the vanity, among all their other piled up stuff. She pulled the top drawer open and wriggled her fingers through the narrow gap to grab her comb.

Her hair, especially the loose half below the scrunchy, was a bit of a mess after a restless night. She removed the scrunchy and pulled the hair loopies out of the bun, letting the entire mass of locks fall freely. In hindsight, it might not have been the best idea.

There were several nasty knots near the nape of her neck, where the bun had kept everything together and neat. As she began attempting to soothe them out, the long strands from the sides and the loose hair loopies started falling in front of her eyes. She snarled a couple of times as she tried to brush them aside with the back of her hand, but to no avail.

By the time Aang returned, she looked like someone had been playing around with the octopus form.. on her hair.

"Wow, you look worse than before. What happened?"

"I tried to comb my hair, but it just kept getting more tangled up," she admitted, almost on the verge of tears. She lowered her head in shame as the airbender put the basin of clean water down on the carpet, right next to the bedside. The wavy reflection of herself only made her feel worse.

Aang perched on the edge of the bed and attempted to comfort her by stroking her head. He gave her a warm smile.

"Well, let's see if we can fix that. First, let me find your pretty little face behind these strands."

His smile grew as he brushed the loose hairs aside and revealed her flushed face. In turn, her anger dissipated as her vision became clearer with each stroke. She smiled back at him, gratefully.

"There we go. That's what I like to see. My beautiful, sick, but happy waterbender."

Katara chuckled at that. She averted her gaze shyly, letting him graze her cheek with the back of his hand a couple of times. She felt how his other hand manoeuvred past her fingers and grabbed the comb from her palm.

"Here, let me help you with that. Why don't you shuffle the cards for the next round, hm?"

"Okay," she agreed in a much calmer tone. She sat up a bit so that Aang could inch closer to her side from behind.

While her husband was busy untangling the knots in her hair, she shuffled the pack and dealt five cards for both of them. The element of water happened to be the trump card.

"Shall we play? Or do you wanna finish up back there?"

"Hold on.. just give me a second to tie this up. And then we can play."

He didn't have enough time to redo her hair loopies, so Aang fastened all of her loose hair into a wolf tail by using the scrunchy. He fluffed the thick bundle a couple of times before he stood up to sit back down opposite to her.

To his surprise, he couldn't get his eyes off her as he slowly fell onto the mattress and faced her. Katara took notice.

"What?" she asked, leaving him speechless for a second.

"Oh! Nothing, it's just.. you look beautiful when you wear your hair like that."

She patted around her head and touched the scrunchy up on the back.

"Like what? Like a wolf tail?"

A rather thick and long wolf tail, he would say.

"Yeah. You should do it more often. It makes you look fierce, like the rest of the Southern Water Tribe warriors. Maybe you could ask Sokka to borrow his helmet and uniform some time? You'd look amazing in it with this style."

Katara blushed a little bit more. Now that he put that image into her head, she couldn't get rid of it anymore. And she liked it. She looked away, a loving smile on her lips.

"Thanks!"

Aang picked up his cards, after which she regained her composure and did the same. They began playing the second round of fool for that day. And this time, the odds were in the Avatar's favour for a change.

He played the King of Air and watched how Katara defended it with a 7 of Water. He laid another king next to that one. The waterbender bit her lip and remained in thought for a couple of seconds before she defended that one with a 10 of Water.

"You got anything more?"

"Hmm.." the airbender pondered, then pulled out a card from the middle of his hand and placed it on the blanket, in the same row as the other ones. It was another king, and she didn't have anything to defend it with. She had to pick up the whole pile.

"Sorry, sweetie, but.."

Aang only had two cards left. He threw the Ace of Water on the sheets first, forcing her to pick it up as well. After that, he revealed his last card, a 3 of Fire.

"I win!"

Katara feigned a groan as she dropped her huge, losing hand in her lap.

"Well played, sweetie. You win fair and square.." she said, gathering up the rest of the cards into a neat pile.

"So I guess it's my turn to boss you around for a change."

The waterbender lifted a hand to her mouth, like she was preparing for the food wanting to come out of her stomach the wrong way. She gulped.

"What are you gonna force-feed me this time?"

"Oh, I have a few things in mind.." Aang claimed, a cheeky grin on his face as he stood up and began creating an air ball to ride down to the kitchen. Katara tugged at his cape before he could jump on the sphere.

"But nothing too sweet, okay, sweetie?"

He smiled back at her, laying a hand on her shoulder reassuringly.

"I'll see what I can find."

And with that, he hopped on the air scooter and hurried downstairs.

Katara shuffled the cards around for a while, to get her mind off the fear of choking up everything she'd managed to keep down so far. She put the deck of cards away on the only empty corner of the nightstand.

The rumbling inside her stomach contradicted her thoughts. She was craving for all kinds of sweets right now. That darn organ just happened to be really picky when she was sick.

She was busy running circles above her tummy when her husband returned. He gracefully hopped off the air sphere and let it dissipate in the hallway. She eyed the medium-sized bowl and the jug in his hands.

"What's that?"

"Oatmeal with blueberries, and milk, if you want."

He perched on the edge of the bed and scooted closer to her, offering her the bowl and spoon.

"I thought that since you didn't have anything for dessert earlier, and everything that tastes too sweet makes you sick, then maybe this would be a delicious alternative."

She picked up the bowl from his hand and simply stared at its contents for a few seconds before she looked at him, begging for some encouragement.

"Just try it. I'll eat the rest if you don't wanna."

She gave him a faint smile, then lifted a small spoonful into her mouth. Both to his, and her own surprise, her face lit up.

"Mmmm!" she hummed before swallowing it.

"Do you like it?" Aang wondered, watching how she lifted a bigger spoonful this time and ate all of it. She nodded while munching on the oats.

"Mhmm! Thi-sh ish really good, sh-weetie!"

He laughed with joy and rubbed her cheek with the back of his hand.

"That's great! Now you can quit being on a dessert diet."

She giggled in return and lifted more spoonfuls to her mouth, taking the time to actually chew through the solid food and enjoy it for once.

"Now thi-sh ish the kind of dessert I can sh-tomach."

Aang felt proud. Proud that he'd managed to find something in the pantry and prepare it into a presentable and edible dish on such short notice. But more importantly, he was relieved that she was able to eat her meal without much reluctance. She really seemed to enjoy it, and he loved seeing her this way. Being happy.

He poured some milk on the oats when she asked for more, after which he put the jug away. Aang sat right next to her and urged her to scooch forward.

"Tell me if you start feeling sick, okay? I'll hold onto your hair so it won't fall in front of your mouth when you have to lean over the bedside."

She finished chewing and swallowed the mouthful to speak.

"I will. Thanks, Aang."

He carefully removed the scrunchy and let her hair fall freely again. Next, he began combing her hair into strands. Once the comb didn't get stuck in any bigger knots anymore, he could grab a thick bunch from the middle to roll it up into a bun.

Katara felt like she was being given a massage on her head. With each stroke of the teeth that ran along the right spots, a pleasurable shiver ran down her spine.

"Look this way," Aang coaxed her to tilt her head to the side. She blinked when his fingers came close to her left eye, but he styled her hair with utter care. From the corner of her eye, she saw him slip a blue bead through the thinner strand, fixing the tiny piece of jewellery up near her temple. He did the same on her right side, thus forming the two hair loopies, which he attached to the bun.

Before he could start braiding the rest of her loose hair, Katara used the opportunity to get up and put her empty bowl on the tray of dirty dishes from earlier.

"Do you need some help?"

"Nah, I'm good," she said, taking those couple of steps back to the bed. She did look stronger when she walked around, but the airbender still took her hand in his and supported her from her back as she climbed under the sheets. He joined her and welcomed her into his embrace.

"Aahh.." the waterbender sighed contentedly as she settled down between her husband's legs and rested herself against his chest. Her fever had fallen, she was wearing clean clothes, her tummy was full of yummy food. She could laze around the rest of the day for all she cared.

"Are you full?"

She answered with a loud belch.

"I take it that's a 'yes'," the airbender chuckled and rubbed her belly together with her. Katara released another hum.

"Mmm.. that dessert was so good. Thank you, sweetie."

She raised their entwined hands and brought them closer to her lips, leaving a soft peck on his tattoo. He lifted it higher to graze her flushed cheek.

"I feel as if I'm hugging a fireplace."

"What do you mean?" she mumbled while he ran his fingertips down the side of her face, tenderly stroking her temple a couple of times.

"You're so warm. I could be your thermometer."

"No offense, sweetie, but you wouldn't be the most accurate thermometer."

"I can be accurate enough. See?"

He touched her forehead to check her temperature.

"Diagnosis? Too hot."

Katara snorted and burst out in laughter, but it was soon replaced with another horrible coughing fit. She rolled onto her left side to spit the milky phlegm out into the basin.

"Feel better?"

Aang rubbed her back before she plopped back down against him. She hacked a little bit to regain her voice and get rid of the excess mucus that hadn't come out of her throat.

"Yeah. I'd feel even better if I had something to drink right about now."

The airbender obliged by waterbending some cold drinking water into her glass. Her cosy seat inched further away for a second when he had to reach for the glass, but she was rewarded with a refreshing beverage.

"Here you go."

"Thanks!"

Katara took a bigger sip and rinsed her mouth of the bad taste. She felt his cool palm land on her forehead one more time. She received a tender kiss behind her left ear after that.

"Can you sit up for a minute? I haven't finished your braid yet."

Some of her hair remained stuck between her back and his chest, but he needed more space to do the beginning of her braid.

So she finished her drink and let him put the empty glass away, then propped herself up. Aang looped his arms under hers when she groaned from the discomfort. Her legs might've been stronger, but her arms were still achy.

"Atta girl.." he praised, supporting her until she was sitting upright. The waterbender patiently sat there like that for another few minutes while he weaved the three strands over one another. He allowed her to rest against him once the braid started to take form.

She snuggled into his lap and pulled the blanket higher. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, to see how his hands fastened the scrunchy to the end of her braid. Maybe being sick occasionally wasn't so bad after all. Not if she had a doctor like Aang around to take care of her.

The newly built clock on his island chimed three times. She'd probably get to relax for another hour or two, before her fever would start plaguing her again. Or until the next time she'd feel the need to vomit again.

And then they would repeat the same routine in the evening. And the next morning, a couple of hours later around lunchtime, and again.. It sounded tedious, but she enjoyed every minute of it. To Katara, he was her best healer in the world.

[whirlybirdwhat]

East Sea of Monsters - Chapter 17

Whiskey Peak doesn’t often experience visitors from the East but Baroque Works tends to treat them like everyone else.

That is their first and final mistake.

-

Chapter 15 of this series now has a podfic by the amazing @oceanaromantic ! Please go check it out if you haven't done so, its absolutely awesome to listen to! (Part 1 Part 2) 

Read the entire series on Ao3 for better quality and authors notes! Gen, creepy, featuring all of the Straw Hats, multi-chapter story. (Tag “Ficart” on my blog should also show some fan art for this fic!)

“The East Blue has a different nickname to those in the Grand Line, and those who hail it as home have a few… unique traits.”

-

Whiskey Peak has many visitors. Some not even from this realm.

Some fall quickly to their (Baroque Work’s) schemes, others take a bit more convincing, but eventually, they all do become another nameless, stone grave upon its rolling green hills.

(Before the hunters of Baroque settled there, there were still gravestones littering the peaks, gently Illuminated by moonlight. They don’t know where they came from, and perhaps they never will.

But they are always careful of something on this (breathing) island that might get them instead of the other way around.)

(Has it left?)

(Gold Roger was the last person to step foot on this island. According to local legend, that was the last time a stone cross appeared on its own.)

These visitors should be no different, even if there are special instructions for their capture and death.

These pirates are from the East Blue after all.

And everyone knows the East Blue is the weakest.

(They don’t think about monsters such as Garp and Roger. Bounty hunters aren’t particularly bright like that. )

The Straw hat pirates are insane and the ‘townspeople’ slowly falling unconscious isn’t a complete façade, but eventually they wear away to sleep.

The permanent kind.

Dead or alive after all.

(The bounty hunters don’t comment on how they can’t quite focus on their visitors, how Ms. Wednesday had shaken her head when they tried to ask what sea they came from directly. (East Blue they found out, and thought nothing of it. East Blue, they think later, and shiver.) Bounty hunters deal in information but Whiskey Peak has never needed it before.)

They didn’t count on one waking up. On all of them waking up.

(For the first time in 23 years, Whiskey Peak adds some of its own to the graves dotting the hills. The beast, touched by East Blue waters, feasts on its people with a wicked smile.

-

A good swordsman never lets the drink overcome him, and Zoro is no different.

(Unless he’s sure that his nakama can handle it. Booze is great after all.)

Plus, costumes and stupid code names. A trap, obviously.

(Mr. 7 could never have made it in the East Blue – he would have been eaten alive (literally) – it’s a good thing Zoro took his head.

(Asura had been pleased))

Standing in the moonlight now, watching them walk out, thinking they had taken care of all of them, he can’t help but smirk.

The bounty hunters have no idea, do they? They don’t know of the darkness that seeps into these waters, of the darkness that they unwittingly invite into their homes. They don’t even register the misty quality about their crew and how Luffy’s playful bites at hands serving his food had been anything but.

There is blood to be shed tonight, and it won’t be Zoro’s – this he is certain.

(Ever since they crossed into the Grand Line, there as been a presence, pressing down on them all. Crocus had explained it vaguely – the Veil, this thing that obscures what should not be seen.

Zoro, and the rest of the East Blue, apparently fall into that category.

(And it’s no surprise – Zoro thinks of the things he has seen beneath the waves and the people on every island, and wonders if there are things that are obscured from him.)

Technically, they shouldn’t be here. Technically, they shouldn’t have any strength to surpass this bearing might of some invisible force.

But Zoro doesn’t care. He’s strong enough to withstand it – and eventually, he vows, he will surpass it.)

He lifts Wado, lets her blade gleam in the moonlight, and announces his presence.

(In shimmering view, two other arms lift two other shadowy blades – solid and sure but not quite of this realm.)

“Sorry, but I think you might want to let them sleep a little longer. Luffy’s hungry when he wakes up you see…”

The bounty hunters quiver, and Zoro can taste their fear.

Good.

-

There’s blabbering, and Zoro reveals a bit of his hand. It doesn’t matter though, because a step forward (through three worlds) and he’s in their midst’s, a feral grin on his face and moonlight shining off his blades and many arms (not that they can see all of them).

“Wanna fight?” he smiles.

They pull their weapons and Zoro unleashes hell.

-

The moon sets later to an explosion of fire. Zoro watches dispassionately and licks the blood off his blades.

So the bounty hunter is actually a princess, huh?

Funny. He thought princesses had more sense. Weren’t they supposed to run from monsters?

Yet here she was, on her knees and absolutely terrified but begging them to save her country.

“You hail from the East, don’t you? Please, I know the truth – you can help me save my country, can’t you? I’ll offer you anything – anything, just please, help us – there’s no one left.”

Zoro doesn’t care about her all that much, but Crocodile is a war lord, and rumor has it his right-hand man is proficient with blades. A challenge, right off the bat in the Grand Line – looking to his left he can see Luffy thinks the same, if about Crocodile, but probably with the addition of a feast.

(His captain should be sated for now, though he will have to cut down how much he eats in front of Vivi. She already saw Zoro, bloody and blood thirsty, cutting down her former colleagues – how will she react to Luffy, bloody and bloodthirsty, feasting on the people of her country?)

Nami, the blasted weather witch, has berries in her eyes. The storm she’s made of rumbles and flashes with the promise of gold as she sidles up to the princess – “A princess, eh?”

“FEAST!” Luffy shouts, and Zoro knows for a fact they were heading to Alabasta.

Vivi trembles but the inklings of a smile make their way onto her face. Zoro gives her a grin and goes to take a nap, internally laughing at the paling of her face as she caught a glimpse of his fangs through the veil.

She better get used to it.

It’s one of the more mundane things on this sea.

(In flickering moments, she sees the truth, and becomes used to dwelling with demons, in a way that few are. She doesn’t question things, and doesn’t let fear rule her as she sleeps unguarded.

Zoro’s proud to call her nakama, when they leave.

They should have taken her with them.)

-

As the Going Merry leaves Whiskey Peak, blood sinks into the ground. The water darkens and only a few more souls manage to leave the deceiving paradise in the moonlight.

The rest are not seen again.

A hundred more gravestones appear.

(Water from the East flows from Reverse Mountain without the bracing divide of the Calm Belt to stop any presence. It. corrupts as far as it can reach, turning whales into beasts and islands into monsters.

Whiskey peak, the closest island to the East Blue, has been in its waters for a long, long time.

It’s an Island and it does not take kindly to visitors.

Especially ones that create their hideout on its shores.)

[blackjack-15]

All Dogs Go To Pennsylvania — Thoughts on: Ghost Dogs of Moon Lake (DOG)

Previous Metas: SCK/SCK2, STFD, MHM, TRT, FIN, SSH

Hello and welcome to a Nancy Drew meta series! 30 metas, 30 Nancy Drew Games that I’m comfortable with doing meta about. Hot takes, cold takes, and just Takes will abound, but one thing’s for sure: they’ll all be longer than I mean them to be.

Each meta will have different distinct sections: an Introduction, an exploration of the Title, an explanation of the Mystery, a run-through of the Suspects. Then, I’ll tackle some of my favorite and least favorite things about the game, and finish it off with ideas on how to improve it.

If any game requires an extra section or two, they’ll be listed in the paragraph above, along with links to previous metas.

These metas are not spoiler free, though I’ll list any games/media that they might spoil here: mention of MHM, DOG, brief mention of VEN, brief discussion of two characters from ASH, brief mention of LIE, spoilers for 20th Century American History in case you’re not caught up yet.

The Intro:

Ghost Dogs of Moon Lake is, first and foremost, a game that is simultaneously over- and under-appreciated. It’s a rare phenomenon in gaming, and one that only occurs once in the Nancy Drew game series. 

It has an intensely atmospheric location, but is coupled with the least fitting cast to ever grace a Nancy Drew game. 

The maze (and its bird spotting/worm finding puzzles) is tedious at best, but the speakeasy is riddled with fun puzzles and pitch-perfect décor. It has the most boring, milquetoast, robotic suspects of all time, but some of the best phone characters. 

And, to top it all off, it has one of the most straightforward mysteries paired with an insanely weird ending.

The thing that DOG really nails is the location. The visuals, the accents (Emily’s is a standout), the feeling of timelessness — all of that is central to this specific area of Pennsylvania and somehow Seattle-based HER really just gets it all right. Not only is this significant in this burgeoning era of Nancy Drew games, but it also goes a long way to making the game fun to play.

By this point, HER has cottoned onto the fact that their audience really likes historical background to the games, and includes it as a matter of course. For DOG, we’re learning about Prohibition-era Pennsylvania — and more specifically, bootlegger history. 

To understand the game completely, a little history lesson might be in order. If you’re familiar with Prohibition and its cultural impact, you can skip the next few paragraphs.

For those not from the US, Prohibition was when a bunch of uptight, meddling people in the early 1900s decided that they needed a good Moral Panic and that the best way to get rid of the problems that can come with drinking was to give the government the power to make it illegal by adding it to the United States Constitution.

This lasted a total of 13 years  (1920-33) where everyone immediately and promptly ignored the law, until the government sheepishly passed the repeal in the form of another amendment to the Constitution, having accomplished nothing other than moralistic finger-wagging and the solidification and exponential growth of organized crime and the black market in the US.

Thus, in United States culture, bootleggers and others who defied Prohibition are usually viewed as folk heroes fighting against stupid governmental overreach, rather than as criminals. 

One of the most famous anecdotes from the Prohibition era is about an FBI agent who went undercover to see how long it would take to get alcohol in the major cities of the time. The longest took him a bit over 15 minutes, while the shortest was in New Orleans, Louisiana, where it took him 32 seconds due to his cab driver answering the question of where he could get alcohol by producing a bottle and saying “right here”.

This backstory is crucial not only to understanding characters like Jeff Akers, Eustacia Andropov, Vivian Whitmore, and, yes, Mickey Malone, but it’s also crucial to understanding why the game feels the way it does.

Unlike the other Nancy Drew games that touch on organized crime — Phantom of Venice, Labyrinth of Lies — this game holds a sort of fascinated reverence and “good ol’ American boy”-type feelings for Malone and his fellow gangsters. 

Usually in Nancy Drew games — and almost always in the early to middle games – HER tries to send a very strong message against any type of illegal or immoral behavior (as evidenced by the games’ Fundamentalist fanbase), but DOG stands out in its sheer American pride in these law-breakers from a different age.

It’s to the benefit of the game that the character archetypes of certain suspects and/or phone characters feed into these 20s/30s Prohibition-era tropes, as it gives them some grounding in a game that really doesn’t have much to say (in contrast to how much it feels).

Other than the historical background and its modern-day underpinnings, DOG is a paint-by-numbers Nancy Drew game with one or two annoying puzzles, a strong atmosphere, fun phone friends, and a decent plot. In a first for the series, it’s also a primarily outdoor game, which would inspire future games such as Danger on Deception Island and Creature of Kapu Cave, among many others.

While I would never rate DOG in my top games (and probably not even in the top half of games, due to the overall quality of the series), there’s a lot it does right. Ultimately, the problem with the game — and the reason that it doesn’t rank too highly on a lot of lists — is not that DOG does anything wrong, per se. It’s just that, for all its good things, DOG doesn’t do enough right.

The Title:

Lots of Nancy Drew games (always excepting the first two, which were more trial-style games and thus are different on a whole host of levels) are titled with “The [adjective] [noun]”, “[noun] in a/the [adjective] [location]’ or “The [noun] of [Proper Noun/Location]”, and Ghost Dogs of Moon Lake thus stands out a bit, making the title seem more important than it would normally.

The title tells us pretty explicitly what the main conflict — and the main “haunting”, as this is a Haunted game in its trappings, if not in its actual plot — will be: the ghostly dogs that haunt the Moon Lake property. It also lets us know, in a roundabout way, the location of the game (though there are Moon Lakes in multiple places throughout the US).

However, that’s all the title does. Unlike most other titles in the series, DOG’s title doesn’t really let you play around with possible meanings or read into it at all. As good a title as it is for pointing you right to the heart of the premise of the game, it’s also a bad title because it refuses to tell you anything else about the game.

In other words, the title, much like the rest of the game, is a mixed bag that, for me at least, hangs a little more on the negative side than the positive.

Now, onto the only thing that the title points us to:

The Mystery:

Nancy’s been called to investigate by a friend of her family’s, Sally MacDonald — a photographer and land owner — due to the fact that Sally’s cabin has been experiencing nightly hauntings by ghostly dogs of the cabin’s previous owner, a Prohibition-era gangster named Mickey Malone.

Technically, Nancy is supposed to be there to visit, but Sally can’t take another night of hauntings, and books it out of there before Nancy can arrive. Upon her arrival, Nancy experiences one of these hauntings, and promptly sets out to solve the case behind the Ghost Dogs of Moon Lake.

As a mystery, DOG isn’t too standout — it’s in the vein of MHM, though not as good — and follows the basic structure of a Haunting Game: a few instances of the haunting, some logical explanations, some illogical explanations, and a few shifty people who could have caused the disturbances.

The reason behind the hauntings is established fairly quickly, as Nancy learns that Malone’s property is valuable for a number of reasons, and Sally’s purchase of it upset the plans of the other three residents of Moon Lake. What’s not clear is which of our three extremely guilty-seeming suspects (four if you consider Sally a suspect) is actually responsible.

While the culprit in this game isn’t immediately recognizable, as HER has tried to lay some red herrings and distribute blame a little more than they have in the past, it’s still easy to figure out once you’ve hit the halfway mark (and can be figured out well before that if you’re paying close attention), but that’s more due to the suspects being one of the most lackluster suspect groups in the entire series.

The Suspects:

Sally MacDonald is the owner of the so-called haunted cabin on Moon Lake, and is the “client” of the game. She bought the Moon Lake property for its picturesque views, but soon learned that the cabin came with a price beyond the monetary. Upset by the hauntings, Sally high-tails it out of Moon Lake, leaving Nancy an incredibly garbled message about the dogs and not much else. She also hasn’t apparently tested her water even though she’s been there for a month, which is a Bit Much, City Girl.

Sally’s not really a suspect, but there’s nowhere else to put her, and if the game didn’t begin with Nancy witnessing the dogs for herself, Sally would start out as a halfway-decent suspect herself, rather than a mostly-pointless phone friend.

Sally herself is one of the weakest points of the game (more on that below), which is a little sad when you consider how important her presence is to the game versus how much impact she actually has (less than anyone else)

Red Knott is the rather unfortunately named birdwatcher that perches on what I’m pretty sure is Sally’s property to begin with and yells about The Youth with the vigor that only an oldster in civvie-camo can do. He’s upset about Sally’s purchase because he wants to watch birds 24/7 and having more people — especially someone younger, as he hates those under 50 — in Moon Lake means more people disturbing the birds.

Red is rude, cantankerous, and firmly believes in having people do things for him, provided it’s an 18 year old in unisex camo gear. You’d think his and Sally’s shared hobby of photography would link them together and make Red your first-cleared buddy-buddy suspect, but Nancy’s pretty much on her own the entire game.

As a suspect, Red is pretty lackluster as well. Sure, he likes his birds, but no one believes for a moment that this dude is actually behind anything other than being a pain the butt. Red is entirely un-useful in everything, but not so unhelpful as to stymie Nancy. In a cast of nothings and no-ones, Red is especially forgettable apart from asking Nancy if she smokes.

Jeff Akers is the local park ranger and resident owner of the most firmly lodged stick in the universe. He’s also the strongest tie to the Prohibition-era backstory as the Lawmen opposing people like Mickey Malone and Valerie. 

It’s a shame he doesn’t do his job better; Jeff should be the embodiment of Consequences when Nancy goes too far, but instead, he barely shows up to have his dog be a red herring and then disappears into Moon Lake like some Nessie-style monster of Little Consequence.

As a suspect? Well, Jeff isn’t going to tick many boxes. Sure, he’s got a dog — albeit not the right type of dog at all — and he’s not fond of Nancy, but pretty much no one in this game is a fan of Nancy, so that doesn’t do much for his suspect-ness at all.

In a game where dogs are bad news, Jeff is all bark and no bite. He’s a comic relief character that shouldn’t be a comic relief character, and a present-day presence when he should be a relic of a past time.

Emily Griffin is the owner of a local bait shop/general store/Prohibition-era antique corner who definitely only sells Legally Obtained items, thank you very much. She’s got that cheeriness that HER liked to conflate with friendliness, ignoring that they’re two very different things and produce two very different reactions in the player (think in ASH Toni’s cheeriness versus Alexei’s friendliness).

She’s the one most tied to the past through her side hustle of selling Prohibition antiques, and it’s obvious that she must be the culprit through that reveal alone. Unfortunately, that’s her only tie to the Prohibition era, as nothing else about her is a shadow of Malone, Vivian, or any other bit of the past we learn about in the game.

As a suspect, Emily is the best, but still isn’t fabulous. There’s little depth to her beyond simple greed, and her interactions with Nancy might as well be with a slightly cagey computer rather than a person. She’s not sinister enough to be scary (apart from one subtle moment covered below), but not silly enough to be funny. She perhaps best represents DOG as a game: she’s a mixed bag with a few shining bits, but is ultimately forgettable.

The Favorite:

There are a few things that DOG does righter than rain, so let’s take a run-down.

The first and most important thing that DOG nails is the atmosphere. I’ve mentioned it above, so I won’t dwell too much, but HER really just gets rural Pennsylvania right, and it’s an absolute treat to play in that atmosphere.

The next is also covered above, but I really adore the good ol’ American appreciation for our bootlegger heroes. It would have been so easy to demonize these people who did, admittedly, break the law, but instead HER for once doesn’t play the wet blanket and acknowledges that sometimes (most of the time, really), American folk heroes are a bit good and a bit bad.

My favorite puzzle is incredibly lame, but it’s the Roman Numeral puzzle. I have a slightly secret, mostly nerdy love for puzzles that use things that are useful in the real world, and having taken Latin in college, this puzzle really actually helped me be able to 1) pass accelerated Lain and 2) feel more confident when looking at dates. It’s also just kinda fun and relaxing. I like puzzles that make me sort stuff.

My favorite moment in the game is probably when you first step into the speakeasy and Malone’s presence is almost palpable. Every time I walk in, I’m always looking around for someone to speak to, even though I know the saloon is empty. It’s a great moment and an appropriate reveal given the heft of the historical background.

Once again, the Hardy Boys are a bright spot in this game, as are Vivian and Eustacia. Really, the phone conversations are the best part of DOG — not just because the actual game is a bit lackluster, but more because they’re really just that good.

I’ve also gotta give credit for the insanely terrifying tidbit of Emily trying to give Nancy calming tea that would poison her after setting the shed on fire. It’s a great moment of fridge horror, and shows that Emily does have some subtlety (attempted murder with a femur bone notwithstanding) when she wants to.

The Un-Favorite:

There are probably as many bad things as good, however, and it’s here that DOG starts to show its weaknesses.

As mentioned above, Sally really drags down the parts of the game she’s in, as she could have been a good character and ultimately winds up not even being a character at all.

If you restructure the beginning and have a little more subtle haunting of the dogs happening to a cabin and then cut to Sally leaving Nancy a voicemail/talking to her on the phone — but Nancy sees no evidence of dogs, just general mild destruction — then you start out a haunting game on the right foot.

Proving Sally right about the dogs and right to leave Moon Lake from the beginning weakens the game, and is one of my least favorite bits of it.

As far as least favorite puzzles go, there are two contenders. The maze in the woods is a high point for some, but as someone with a little trouble with distinguishing visual stimuli in the first place, it can be (and usually is) absolute hell. None of the puzzles are hard except for the bird-spotting puzzle, which isn’t hard as much as it is frustrating.

My least favorite moment is the beginning haunting simply because it builds the game up to a point that it never reaches again, not even with the hilarious screwball ending. When the best moment of the game is the first two minutes, you’re not looking at a satisfying game.

The cast is often what makes or breaks a game and, unfortunately, this is a game where the cast breaks it. There’s simply nothing in the suspects to propel the game forward, which gives the game a feel of more of a graphic novel-type game than a whodunnit. And, spoiler alert, it doesn’t make for a good graphic novel game either.

The lack of length in this section isn’t a testament to the value of the game itself; rather, it shows DOG for what it is: just unremarkable. Not good enough to be solid, not bad enough to be an outlier.

The Fix:

So how would I fix DOG?

There’s not much you can do with the current cast of characters, despite their tenuous ties to Prohibition tropes, so I’d pretty much start over.

Make Sally a mid-game presence (actual tangible suspect, thank you very much) and shift Emily from the ‘bumpkin’ archetype to someone a bit more world-wise (though keep the accent, it’s fantastic) and hide her involvement in dredging the bottom of the lake a little longer (or implicate someone else in it first, whichever works).

Give Red something to do to make him a bit more suspicious and use him as Nancy’s buddy once Sally comes in (to keep the number of suspects the same) and have his photography actually come in handy. As for Jeff…an obstructionist presence is fine, but root him a bit more in history as a figure of the law rather than a sissified bureaucrat whose only character trait is that he loves to give tickets.

The puzzles could also solve to be more memorable and not auto-solved (save for the bird-spotting puzzle, which is a Disgrace) by the game, but part of that is the age of the game.

DOG is structured as a haunting game, so beginning it with Nancy experiencing a haunting full-stop is a horrible beginning. It takes out any suspense and any sense that this might just be an old legend and minor sabotage getting the better of Sally (or better, Sally damaging her own property in order to hype up its status as Malone’s house and then flip it for a profit/get her photos of the “hauntings” featured in a nationwide story) and instead gives us the most cut and dry (emphasis on dry) haunting game in the series.

Beginning DOG in the way that HER does, while a great cinematic (especially for 2002), drains the suspense and Mystery out of the game like sap from a pine tree. We’re still left with a structure of sorts, but it’s just not what it could have been.

Ultimately, even with DOG fixed, I don’t think it would be a standout game for anything (except possibly atmosphere). At its best, DOG is simply a three-star entry in a series; no one’s least favorite, very few people’s favorite, and memorable only for its initial haunting rather than for its plot, characters, or mystery.

[hillywooddestiel]

The Retreat Chapter 18

Characters: CEO!Bucky x reader, Caroline, Natasha

Warnings: Angst, lots and lots of angst, this one might hurt a bit

Word count: 1.8k

Description: Y/N Y/L/N: determined business woman, sought after by most businesses, creative visionary for advertising. She has it all. Or so she thinks. Life has a way of kicking you sideways when you least expect it, want it or are in anyway prepared for it. Numerous times. How can Y/N remain from cracking under the pressure when her career isn’t the only thing on the line and everything isn’t all that it seems?

A/N: This one is a painful chapter, nothing really good happens, I’ll tell you now. It’s NOT happy! So enjoy, sort of xx Series Masterlist  Marvel Masterlist

Story:

Bucky’s POV

“Caroline…” I moan her name, forgetting where I am and what’s going on for merely a moment. What am I doing? I have Y/N, what am I doing screwing that up? “Caroline, stop. Stop!”

“What’s wrong, Juju?” Caroline snakes one hand to the nape of my neck, threading her fingers through my hair. This was one of her favourite manipulative moves when we were together if I said no to something she really wanted and I’m ashamed to admit it worked more often than not.

“I said stop, Caroline. I’ve moved on and so should you.” I step back from her cloud of perfume to try and clear my head. She is one manipulative, sly, intoxicating, suffocating woman. Not a day goes by that it doesn’t baffle me I ever thought I loved her- enough to want to marry her!

“Moved on? Darling, could you really let me go so easily? Because I doubt it.”

“Well I have. So you need to get over this, us, and accept it because…”

“Because what, Juju?”

“Because I love her.” Wow, didn’t expect that to come out. I love her. I love Y/N. Caroline looks taken aback by my sudden confession, a sour glare in her unblinking eyes like I just said the worst thing she could ever hear. 

“You love her… Who is she?” her voice has gotten lower and I notice her fists are clenched so tightly they’re turning white. She seems almost dangerous in this state. I have, in the past, seen just how bad her temper can get and it is not something I wish to see again (not to say I don’t have a few anger issues myself sometimes). We went jewellery shopping and they didn’t have the necklace that she wanted. The screaming tantrum that both myself and the store clerk had to endure was ear piercing and so offensive to the point I tipped the poor man for his patience with her.

“It’s none of your business who she is. Goodbye Caroline.” I nod my head before backing out of the gardens and going back to the benefit- I think it’s time Y/N heard my confession too.

Everyone is considerably more drunk than when I headed outside; Steve is actually stumbling around the dancefloor and he is no lightweight. Wanda and Vis are getting along swimmingly which is good to see since I’ve been rooting for the pair since she pulled out his name for secret santa. Natasha is the only person sat on their own but I assume Clint will return soon. And Y/N is nowhere to be seen- she must have just gone to the bar or something. 

“What’s wrong Barnes, you look a little lost there.” Nat asks with a mysterious smile, like she knows a secret and wants you to ask about it.

“Have you seen Y/N?” I ask back, scanning the crowd by the bar and not seeing the eye-catching red of her dress.

“I have. Is there something going on there between the two of you? You were looking quite… close earlier.” She’s very wise with her words, is Natasha. But I do not have time for this right now.

“None of your business Romanoff! Where did she go?”

“Ugh, you’re no fun. She left in a hurry about two minutes ago, looked pretty upset too. I asked her what was wrong and she told me to bite her so someone clearly pissed her off. Wasn’t you, was it?” she laughs, her evening’s alcohol intake boosting her playful mood. She can keep wondering for now. I stride quickly to the front doors and out into the cool evening air, most of the press having cleared their cameras and left. There are a few smokers hanging around and a couple of other people dotted along the street waiting for taxis and limousines. None of them I recognise as Y/N. She must have caught a driver’s attention already. Damn! Giving up quickly in my search thanks in part to the chilly breeze, I wander back inside to the table to finish the drink I forgot about when I spotted Caroline lurking in the corner. “No luck?”

“No. I must have just missed her. Did she say where she was going when she left?”

“Well I thought she’d gone looking for you earlier but then she ran back through nearly in tears. I didn’t want to get yelled at so I let her go. You know I don’t like getting involved in arguments.” Nat tells me before sipping on a fresh martini. She came looking for me? Surely she didn’t see me with Caroline. Oh God, she must have! I need to call her, now!

Y/N’s POV

I attack the punching bag so ferociously I feel like I could break it from it’s chain. A sheen of sweat has broken out across my skin and my muscles ache from the repetitive exercise but I can’t stop- I need to get all of this anger out of me and this is the healthy way to do it right?

“Do want to take a break?” Nat huffs from holding the bag for me, concern bringing her brows together in a frown.

“Nah, I’m good.” I pant, bracing my legs for the next set. She steps back from the bag before I can start and sits on the bench with her water bottle, gulping nearly half of it down in one, “Fine, we’ll take a break.” I stay stood, grabbing my own bottle from the floor.

“You okay?” Nat leans back on the wall, regarding me.

“Yeah, I’m not tired yet.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Damn, I’m not as good of a liar as I thought.

“I’m done with men. That’s all.” I punch the bag weakly, causing it to swing in the air. Nat laughs and sits forwards with her elbows resting on her knees.

“Men too? Just a few weeks ago you were giving me your power speech on how you’re completely done with women and never want to see boobs again unless they’re your own or in porn.” 

“Okay, well clearly I was exaggerating about that part. I’m just done with dating and shall remain single forever.”

“Sure… who hurt you?”

“That guy that I decided to go for it with? I caught the douche getting with his ex.” I admit, leaving out all of the details.

“Really? What a dick. What did he say?”

“He doesn’t know I know. But he keeps calling and I never want to hear his stupid voice again.” That might be a little tricky with us literally working together but I can always get a new job. I saw Stark Industries was hiring.

“And you’re not even going to give him an explanation? Ruthless, I like it.” Nat stands back up, strapping her gloves on for her turn at punching. “What if he tries finding you in person to talk, what do you do then?”

“I… don’t know.” I’m going to have to face him. I’m going to have to face that cheater’s stupid fucking face and tell him it’s over. He may not even be sorry, he may fire me on the spot, he might try to lie his way out of it all. I just don’t know. I do know, however, that I’ll probably end up crying at work in front of everybody and everyone will find out we slept together and HR will get involved and it’ll turn into one big mess and I may never find work again and end up living with my parents-

“Y/N, breathe! You got stuck in your own head again.” Natasha runs up to me and grabs my hands, making over-exaggerated breathing motions until I stop hyperventilating. I have got to stop doing that.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. I think you have a lot of thinking to do. On your own.”

“Yeah, I think I do.”

My arm muscles are so sore and my legs feel fuzzy when I finally flop onto my bed, home from the gym. I can still feel the pain from my morning hangover ebbing slowly away too. But none of it compares to pain I felt last night seeing Bucky with Caroline again, back with the woman he claimed to despise more than anyone on the planet (even more than Stark). Back with the woman that cheated on him for God knows how long with an intern from his own office. He’d seemed so genuine with me but I guess it was all an act of happiness until he could get back with her. Just the mere thought of him faking every smile, every moment with me, sends a sickening, twisting feeling through my heart and puts a bitter taste in my mouth. This stings much more than when India left, strangely- she just packed her things and called it quits. Bucky cheated. I don’t even know if any of our so-called relationship was real. I do know that I wish he would stop calling though. Letting my phone ring through, I stare blankly at my own reflection in my vanity mirror as I often like to do when my life is falling apart before me. He’ll leave a voicemail, adding to the 12 already in my inbox and the 26 texts I haven’t read and yet… I can’t bring myself to do the smart thing and block him. I’m about to step into the shower (yes, I don’t dare put one foot in the gym showers, bleh) when I see a different name brighten my screen- Steve. It could be baby news! Peggy was due a scan at some point and as it turns out, she was a few weeks further along than she thought. I quickly swipe to answer.

“Steve! Any news on Baby Rogers?”

“It’s not Steve, Ava, it’s me…” A deeper, pained voice informs me- Bucky. That sly bastard!

“What do you want?” I ask with such venom, I hope it comes across that way on his end.

“I wanted to see if you’re okay! You’ve not been answering your phone all day and you ran off last night. Where did you go?” He sounds upset. I hope he is.

“I went home. I saw you Bucky so don’t bother trying to deny it.”

“I… I didn’t-”

“You know what? I don’t want to do this right now.” I hang up and toss my phone on the bed. This shower better be a magic shower if it’s going to calm me down even a little after that.

[oveliagirlhaditright]

Swallow Part 2

My idea for a Kingdom Hearts IV–that will eventually have all that entails, like Shibuya and Verum Rex and Sora’s PoV–but that deals with the idea of a dark Kairi after everything she’s been through, because this girl deserves to be allowed to feel things. First chapter is from the TV show “Angel the Series”–as it’s Fox and Disney owns Fox now–but you don’t have to know Angel to get it.

Madness Surprisingly enough, it hadn’t been Kairi’s idea for her to train like it was the only thing she had left in the world. It had been Riku’s—as many things in her and Sora’s life had started out with him—as he had thought that she should actually try and do something and have less reason to hate herself that way. “But is that… really a good idea?” Kairi had asked him when he’d suggested it, as she’d sat on the paopu tree—the stupid place she had lost Sora at—and worked on making more lucky charms for him and letters, on the off-chance that one of them would work and bring her boy back to her. “Riku… maybe I just was never cut out for fighting. Sora paid a high price in bringing me back. Do you really think I should dishonor his sacrifice by putting myself into even more danger that I can’t handle?” Riku had looked like he wanted to push Kairi into the water beneath them then—and honestly, she could have hardly blamed him even if he had; she’d been so weak then, and she was ashamed to think of it now—and got right into her face as he said, “That’s not the girl who said she wanted to fight like me and Sora, so we wouldn’t be the only ones getting hurt… or who said that she was tired of getting left behind and that ‘wherever one of us goes, the other follows’. Kairi… you made all of these promises to Sora before the Keyblade Graveyard. Do you really want to go back on them now?” No, she hadn’t. That was the last thing in the world that she would have ever wanted. But the person she’d been a few months ago—who had said so much of that stuff—was so different from the girl she was now. That Kairi had gotten a Keyblade into her hand for the first time and had thought that with just a little training, she would easily become as strong as Sora and Riku were. That wasn’t the part of her that had gotten training and still couldn’t get her body to cooperate… and had had to realize that most of her worst nightmares might actually come true, as Terra-Xehanort had charged at her. And they had come true after that. Oh, how they had. Kairi had had one brief moment of peace and pride in herself—when she had kept Sora from fading away, that had then allowed him to save everyone else—but then it had all gone to hell, like so much of Kairi’s life had, and she didn’t know if she wanted to go there again. “Kairi, the problem is we had you train with someone who isn’t a Keyblade wielder at all… And is actually someone who uses his magic to stay away from enemies, when you—in pretty much using a sword—would be in close contact with people. That was our fault, not yours… I’ll properly train you now, so you never have to feel so horrible again. Just let me.” And that was what started it. Many hours a day—eight or more, as if they were working a full-time job and in Kairi’s eyes they were—Riku was training Kairi in the hours that they weren’t looking for any hint as to Sora’s whereabouts. And while it started out rough, and Kairi had continued to think that maybe she should just work on her light magic because of it, she steadily got better and better and even she could see it—it was nothing like what she had encountered with Merlin and Lea. It was actual tangible progress that she could see in her scars and feel in her muscles. And Kairi took it even further than that. She didn’t tell Riku or anyone about this because she didn’t want to worry them, but in the hours when she should have been sleeping or resting, she would do the familiar drills again until they were completely beaten into her. And then she was taking the gummi ship that Mickey had thankfully left for her and Riku out into the ocean between worlds, to find Heartless or Nobodies to fight: something that didn’t help her that much, because Kairi had been able to handle these just fine in the Keyblade War, but every little bit of actual experience helped. And she’d just hoped against hope that on her journeys she could run into some Darksides or Twilight Thorns, and how happy she was—the first time she’d been remotely that in ages—when she did, and began handling them better and better: with little injuries and destruction to her hair and outfits. And at one point—when Kairi had unintentionally taken a page out of Roxas, Xion, and Lea’s book—and had bested five giant Heartless in one night, she had finally felt good about herself… and that nothing could ever happen to her again. She wouldn’t let it. And that furthermore, she knew that she was going to find Sora and bring him home. But it was just when she was beginning to feel great, that such a feeling of euphoria didn’t last. Kairi heard a Corridor of Darkness open from behind her in Twilight Town—a sound she’d made certain she always knew now, as not being able to recognize it with Xemnas before had led to her death—and who would come out of it but someone cloaked in an Organization robe? Of course. Kairi had backed away from her assailant, growling at them as she prepared to send Firaja after Firaja after them. But first, she’d had to berate them a little bit. “You have got to be kidding! I thought the lot of you had been defeated in the Keyblade War. All that we did—which- which led to Sora’s death—was so we could defeat any of you who would survive to try and get the X-Blade again. So, who are you?! And are you at all connected to Sora’s fate?! Do you know where he is?! Tell me!” “Tsk tsk, little princess,” the attractive voice of a man replied—as he motioned with his hands that Kairi should calm down, in the way that Master Yen Sid often told the Keyblade wielders of the new generation to sit down. “It’s… good that you’re so strong now. Go, you! But don’t you know you’re killing yourself? So much sleep deprivation isn’t a good thing. And I know you’re not eating or drinking much, either. You’re going to be dead as a doornail soon, and your boyfriend’s going to come back to see that he sacrificed himself for you for nothing… or worse. That you’ve become a different person from the girl he loved… There’s blood on your hands now, isn’t there Kairi?” Kairi had wanted to deny this, of course. After all, she’d only been fighting Heartless and Nobodies and that was something that needed to be done! But at the same time… she knew that they had once been human, and the thought made her violently sick on the inside. But even more than that… she was hunting the things as sport now, whereas everyone else had only ever fought the beasts when they’d attacked them on their adventures… and she enjoyed killing them too much. And she kept score, the way Sora and Riku once had with their fighting. Every injury she got was a point against her, but each hurt she gave them was a point for her: especially if she could give them many of those without being touched at all. Kairi wasn’t trying to be quick or end their suffering fast at all, but to just use them as target practice as long as she could. And while Kairi hadn’t yet fought another human since the War, she worried that she would do the same when she faced them because it was such a routine now. Sora had only ever told her stories about how Clayton had wanted to kill the gorillas, but Kairi thought that if she herself ever run into him somehow… she’d fight him the way she was now Heartless, and be thrilled for it—that the fear he’d struck in Terk’s heart she could put in his. So, she was falling. Falling into darkness, it seemed… and this man had known this, and it had been only the start for her. “What do you know about it?!” Kairi had demanded then, furious. Throwing her hand out to the side in a way that Sora had used to when he glared at his enemies. “You know nothing. You don’t know me at all! You’re just a forgotten relic from a cause that’s already seen its best day. Now just tell me what you know and get lost, before I-” “Before you what, Kairi?” the voice had cut her off. And there was a sweet cadence in his voice that she hated, as if he’d talked to someone like her before and was trying to be a friend since he’d  apparently cared about this other person. “Do something unseemly to me and make Sora hate you even more that way? He loves his little light princess—that’s why he fights for you so much—so what do you think he’s going to do when he comes back and sees you aren’t like that at all anymore? Do you think he’ll stay the knight in shining armor, or will he move onto something bigger and better? “You’re also angry. So angry. And, hey: I applaud you for it—you’re entitled to those emotions, and I may even have use of them—but Sora preferred the sweet and loving little girl, not the one who’s going to get called to many worlds because of her fury now.” Furious? Was she really furious? Kairi had asked herself. She hadn’t felt it at the time—if torn between “bloodlust” and “fury”, she definitely had thought she was more bloodlust at the time—but the Kairi of the present could recognize how her blood had boiled back then, and continued to do so now. But having not liked what this man had said about her getting pulled into an adventure all about her madness—because that wasn’t her at all—Kairi had tried to backtrack a little. “Maybe… maybe I’ve been a little hard on you. You haven’t really done anything to me. Perhaps if anything, you’re just giving me some… helpful advice. And I guess you don’t have to be with Organization XIII... I know a Moogle has worn the coat before, I mean, and clearly they weren’t one of Xehanort’s vessels. So can you just tell me who you are, and what you wa-” “And how easily you fall back into the Naminé routine. Kairi, did you ever think that maybe the two of you were split for a reason? You may be the Princess of Heart… but you have far more fire to you than your Other did, and there’s a reason for it and you should relish it—you must do so—even if it means you can’t have Sora. You must let him go. Can’t you see that?” This had put Kairi in a horrible mood, and she’d cried. But not because she was sad, but because she waslivid—maybe this man was right about that—as it hit the nail on the head too much on how she’d been feeling lately: that fate was keeping her and Sora from being together. So Kairi made a decision. “Perhaps… perhaps you’re right. Perhaps I should go back to just barely training from now on, and be who I once was. And I will. I won’t fall into your plan, and I’ll be what Sora wants me to be.” And partly to spite the man, Kairi had opened a Corridor of Light—something Master Yen Sid had taught her how to do—and left the guy alone. And she did try to make good on her promise to herself. But it never could’ve worked.. For far too long, Kairi had repressed her feelings… and she was done with that. And she had no idea that trying to force herself to do that again, would send her spiraling over the edge. Author’s Note: I was originally going to have more than just a flashback in this chapter… but since it ended up pretty long, I think I WILL cut it here. Maybe it’ll even work better to have flashbacks and present stuff in different chapters. IDK. But I hope you all enjoyed!

[mobius-prime]

145. Sonic the Hedgehog #80

If Wishes Were Acorns

Writer: Karl Bollers Pencils: James Fry Colors: Frank Gagliardo

So, what exactly has happened to Amy? What did she use the mystical, wish-granting Ring of Acorns to wish for? Why, to become older of course - because if she's older then people will take her more seriously!

So this is essentially how the comics resolved the issue of Amy originally being very young, but now suddenly needing a redesign and an excuse to act older - they literally just magicked her older. Specifically, she's physically about sixteen now, despite being ten years old in actual age. Of course this is kind of an insane decision for the reasons Sonic points out above, but then again, ten year olds aren't known for their stellar decision-making skills. Despite the fact that by all accounts she should be mentally still ten, the comic actually treats her like a full teenager from now on aside from small references to her true age here and there. I guess her maturity is just assumed to follow the same rules as OoT Link's or something - perhaps the ring also gave her that extra six years of mental maturation or something, I dunno. Regardless, she's gotten her wish and is now allowed to come along on the mission, though perhaps not for the reasons she initially wanted.

As everyone prepares to leave, Sally steps into her mother's storage room to say her goodbyes, hoping that her mother can hear her speak even though she's still in a coma. Outside, Sonic's own parents try to say goodbye to him as well, but he refuses to actually say the word "goodbye," seeming downcast.

Nice to see Mina again - she's not getting a lot of screentime these first few issues, but she'll become a bigger character as time goes on. Everyone groups up on Knothole's makeshift airfield, and Nate explains that the Hidden City of the Ancients is inhabited by five-fingered Overlanders instead of the usual four-fingered ones like himself. Wait, what? So this is a weird plot detail that hasn't been touched on at all yet, but if anyone has been paying attention, all Overlanders, including the original Robotnik (but not the current one), have usually been portrayed with four fingers. I say usually because it varies wildly between issues - both for Overlanders, and for Mobians. For example, lately Sally has often been portrayed with four fingers, but later on in the series she gains a fifth, and it's entirely inconsistent between issues due to changing artists and canons. For now, just take the comic's word for it that Overlanders usually have four fingers, while these other ones apparently have five. As the king, watching over the departure, reassures Elias that they'll still be able to find a cure for the queen even without the Ring of Acorns, the group takes off, Sonic and Tails in the newly-rebuilt Tornado, and everyone else in the shuttle the Freedom Fighters always use. Soon they find themselves coming up on a strange mountain in the distance…

It's hard to imagine how this city has apparently remained so hidden that many think it's a myth - that thing looks like a siren's call to any intrepid explorer. Apparently somehow this thousands-of-years-old airplane managed to survive the ravages of time and nature, paint and all, with nary a scratch to be seen. Nate suspects that the survivors of the ancient crash took shelter inside the mountain's caves, discovering they went very deep. Everyone takes a mine cart further inside, and at the end of it, they find themselves bedazzled by the sigh of an entire metropolitan city underground…

Land Fall

Writer: Ken Penders Pencils: Steven Butler Colors: Frank Gagliardo

Knuckles has rushed to Haven to find out why the other members of the Brotherhood didn't see Robotnik's assault coming. Thunderhawk was apparently the one on duty when it happened, and blames Hunter's sabotage of their systems for disabling any early warning they may have gotten. However, they did capture images of Robotnik during the attack, and in fact still have him on their video feed.

No, you know what, shut up Locke. And Knuckles, good on you! It's about time you stood up to the Brotherhood and your father and told them what ignorant idiots they were being. This is the biggest case of "I told you so" in the entire comic. They refuse to help Sally and her kingdom fight against Robotnik, and not even a week later he comes in, blasts apart the Chaos Chamber, shatters the only thing keeping their island aloft, and releases Mammoth Mogul back into the world to boot. Locke gives me strong vibes of that type of middle-aged asshole who refuses to let someone younger than them tell them off because they don’t want to admit to being wrong. Knuckles has every right to be angry and shame the entire Brotherhood into rethinking their stupid isolationist policies, despite Locke's insistence that they did what they did "for the greater good." Thunderhawk tries to agree, but Knuckles ignores them and heads out to trail Robotnik and hopefully find out what he's planning next.

Meanwhile, outside, Vector, Mighty and Julie-Su are examining the crater left behind by Robotnik's drilling venture. They don't know it's him yet, so they spend some time speculating, wondering if it's perhaps the work of the Dark Legion.

They race to find Espio and are first shocked by the fact that the island is floating in the water (did you guys completely not notice the eight mile drop earlier or something?). They then notice Espio, handcuffed and being led along by some very large and vicious-looking kitties, who he nervously introduces as their new "neighbors." I'm sure this bodes well…

Swallowing Trouble

Writer: Ken Penders Pencils: Jim Valentino Colors: Frank Gagliardo

Have you ever lain awake at night and thought to yourself, "Gee, there's nothing more I want out of life than to see the story of Big the Cat and Froggy as told by Ken Penders"? Well boy oh boy, you're in luck, because that's exactly what you're getting! Unlike in the games and anime, where Froggy is literally just an ordinary frog, apparently in this universe he's a fully sapient being in his own right, thinking in complex thought to himself throughout the story. Froggy wakes up in the middle of the night to some strange noises, and tries to rouse Big, who carries on snoring. Thus, Froggy leaps away to investigate for himself, finding a moving puddle of water and deciding he needs to drink it immediately in perhaps the most uncomfortable series of panels imaginable.

Big awakens shocked to find that his friend now has a tail and is acting strange and ignoring him, and before he can move closer to investigate, a red and yellow robot appears from amongst the trees and scoops Froggy up. This alarms Big, who moves closer to demand his friend's release, and proceeds to blame the robot for his hand hurting after he punches it.

Bro, I'm sorry, but you punched a freaking robot! What did you expect, a gentle caress on the knuckles? The robot scurries off with its new prize, and Big picks himself up and lumbers after it, determined to get his friend back. And thus, the stage is (halfway) set for our upcoming adventure! How much weirder can this adaption get, you ask? Tune in for the next issue to find out!

[pantherlover]

Rosemary and Rue Re-Read: Part 11

Here’s part 11!  As always: possible spoilers up to Night and Silence!

Chapter 23

We finally get to meet the Luidaeeeeeeeegg I’m so glad to seeeeeee heeeeeeeerrrrr

Toby says that according to rumor, the Luidaeg has been settled in San Francisco for nearly 70 years.  I wonder what made her come then.

It’s interesting comparing Evening’s persona with the Luidaeg’s.  Evening’s intimidating because she Seems Fae, even while she’s pretending to be mortal.  Toby says multiple times that mortals would know that there was ‘just something’ about Evening, and even other fae were intimidated by her.  

The Luidaeg, on the other hand, seems entirely normal; she’s not even really Impressive by mortal standards considering that she looks like a 19 year old girl who thinks it’s a good idea to tie her hair up with electric tape.  She’s not unusually tall, no abnormally clear skin, she isn’t so beautiful you can’t stand to look at her she’s just completely, 100% ordinary.

And that’s the most terrifying thing about her, because how can someone who’s so old, so powerful, so wild just hide that???

... water and fire, blood and burning.  She and her sisters were goddesses then, she and Black Annis and Gentle Annie, tending the younger children, roaming the bogs and rivers of the world.  Maeve’s Firstborn, pulled from her in blood and screaming while Oberon walked far, far away.  But they died one by one at the hands of men and fae, by iron and ash and rowan and fire they died, until the Luidaeg was the last, running, always running, called monster and demon because her blood was so much older and wilder than their own... ... did we lose it all for the roses?  Oh, Mother, you fool...

So, this seems... significant.  This is what Toby reads from the Luidaeg’s blood, and I think it’s the closest we’ve gotten to actual backstory about the Luidaeg.  Most of this past is hinted at in the rest of the books, but I don’t think her sisters’ names are mentioned again.  I kind of wonder what races of fae they were Firstborns of.

Also, this part demonstrates why this series is awesome for re-reads, because if I re-read this after The Winter Long came out, I would’ve assumed that the ‘did we lose it all for the roses’ line was about Eira.  Now?  I think it’s actually about Janet.

And just like that, Toby has switched her categorization of the Luidaeg from ‘horrible monster’ to ‘friend?  Scary friend?’

Is it just me, or does Oberon seem like he was kind of a jackass.  Like, he’s considered the final authority for all of Faerie, but he doesn’t seem like he actually pays attention to what anyone was doing, he didn’t consider changelings worthy of protection, and he seemed to get led around by his dick a lot for a king who was, like, actually good at his job.  Plus, he was a horrible husband to Maeve and a terrible father to Maeve’s children.  No wonder the Luidaeg’s so angry with him.

Also he seems kind of dumb?  Like, if you’re going to force Maeve’s oldest Firstborn under a geas to protect all of the descendants of your second wife, why did you not force Titania’s oldest Firstborn under a geas for the same reason?  And either Eira is way better at finding loopholes than the Luidaeg is, or Eira’s geas to stop her from harming the people of Amandine’s line was very poorly worded.

“I was wondering how long it would take for a member of [Amandine’s] line to bother tracking me down - although I’ll admit your blood’s a bit thinner than I expected.  Tried to fix matters on her own, did she?  She always was brainless.  Runs in the family.”

Okay, a couple parts of this confuse me.  By this point, August has tracked the Luidaeg down and demanded help on a quest.  And the Luidaeg already knows how thin Toby’s blood is, because she’s the one who stopped Amandine from turning Toby completely human.  A possible answer to this is ‘Seanan McGuire hadn’t come up with August or decided the Luidaeg was the one who intervened yet’ but a) that’s a boring answer, and b) I’m not 100% sure that tracks, so I want to see if I can come up with an in-canon reason.  The Luidaeg isn’t supposed to be able to lie, but maybe that’s only if she’s asked direct questions?  And that’s how she can indirectly lie about August?  I wasn’t really sure why the Luidaeg brought up Toby’s blood in the first place, but maybe she’s trying to get Toby curious about her blood; because that line makes sense now, but I think I remember being very confused the first time I read it.

Annnnnd the Luidaeg refers to Evening in the present tense.  Didn’t catch that the first time.

“You were that stupid by yourself?  Wonderful.  Amandine’s line is going to die out all on its own.  I won’t have to lift a finger.”

Even Toby thought that was noteworthy, so that line is probably going to be important in some way.  Maybe it has to do with Evening not being able to hurt Amandine’s line?

I wonder if the Luidaeg heard that Toby didn’t know that drinking the blood would make the curse stronger and thought, ‘Damnit, Amy, you are going to get your daughter killed.’

“The first hope chest was a gift from Oberon to Titania, to allow her to adjust her Court to her desire.  She passed it along to the first of her half-blood children, and somewhere along the line, there were more of them.  No one knows who made the later ones.  I don’t know, so don’t ask.”

This doesn’t quite match up with the short story The Fixed Stars.  In that story, the Luidaeg helps the changeling/merlins in a war against the fae in order for Oberon to step in and create the hope chests.  According to that story, the hope chests were created specifically to help the changelings.  Maybe the first one was made for Titania, and then the other ones came after that war.

Ahhh, my theory about why the Luidaeg owes Devin is wrong.  She says that it’s because he stopped people trying to burn her at the stake.  Although, she said that it was sixty years ago; who (and where) the hell was burning someone at the stake in 1949???

Hahaaaa, the Luidaeg called Toby pretty smart.  I bet that was the last time the Luidaeg ever thought that.

Did the Luidaeg ever ask Toby the question that had to be answered completely honestly?  The Luidaeg asked her a question, but I don’t think it reallly counted.

Chapter 24

Cagney and Laceeeeeeey.  I think this is the beginning of them being personal messengers to their King.  I think that should be utilized more often.  (I’m biased; if there’s a way to add cats, I want to add cats)

I’m confused about Toby not wanting Tybalt to know about the curse.  I thought the binding was the curse.  If it is, then he doesn’t need to hear about it from everyone else, Toby; you told him about it already.

Annnnnd here’s Julie attacking Toby over Ross’ death.  I have never been particularly sympathetic to Julie over this.  I understand being angry at Lily over this; if Toby’s right about her motivation, then Lily did send them out despite knowing they were best suited to actually stopping the assassin.  But both Ross and Julie knew what they were getting into when they agreed to escort Toby to her taxi.  It’s definitely a tragedy that Ross died, but it’s not Toby’s fault that they both agreed to do the dangerous thing, and then it turned out to be dangerous.  I could maybe understand it in this book, but it’s more and more childish the longer Julie insists that it’s Toby’s fault.

I didn’t really understand why Tybalt kept Julie in his Court, since Toby’s already said that he’s kicked her out when she’s refused to listen to him before, but then I realized that if he kicked her out, there would be nothing stopping Julie from tracking Toby and killing her, where as if she was part of his Court then Tybalt would have the authority to stop her.

Ahhhhhh Tybalt’s trusting Toby with access to his memorieeeeeeesssss

That’s it for this recap!  I THINK there’s only going to be one more, but we’ll see.  I’m hoping to be done by Tuesday, but we’ll see how it goes.  As always, come talk to me about the books!