#BUT MY HEART IS HEAVY AND MY HOPE IS GONE

[shellshocklove]

does anyone know where the love of god goes? | joel miller

pairing/AU: joel miller x female!reader – post breakout & no ellie AU

summary: crossing the country alone as he searches for his brother, joel stumbles on a farm. winter is closing in, and against his better judgement he's convinced to stay. as the frost covers the land like a blanket, a warmth ignites in his heart for the young woman who's home he finds himself in.

warnings: this is an 18+ fic so minors dni!!! canon-typical violence, age gap (reader is mid to late twenties), swearing, dead animals, joel being a sad man, masturbation, no use of y/n

a/n: i soft launched this ao3 last month and it flopped lol so i'm gonna keep my expectations low for this series. anyways this has been a story i've been thinking about since probably october. this is the first part of what i'm hoping will be 3 parts. happy reading i guess

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The leaves rustled against Joel’s boots with every step he took. The sun had turned traitor cold, and he couldn’t feel its kiss against his cheek no more. The trees shivered above him in the wind – the only sound for miles except his heavy steps.

Did he still exist, with no one around? Joel had never minded being alone; after the breakout he’d found that he sometimes preferred it. People could be… well, when you’ve seen the worst of humanity, maybe it’s best to leave it behind.

And wasn’t he the worst of humanity? The things he’d done. The people he’d killed, and killed for. The people he’d lost.

But he had to keep going. For Tess. He promised.

Every night as he stared into the flames his thoughts would drift to her – the memories flickering in the fire. They should’ve never gone through that museum – it was supposed to have been empty – they should’ve never left Boston in the first place. Now Tess is gone because of him, him and his stupid plan to find his brother.

And for what? How is he ever gonna find Tommy?

Joel didn’t even know where he was. Nebraska? South-Dakota? Maybe he’d made it to Wyoming and just didn’t know it? Abe had told him ‘Cody Tower’, but Joel hadn’t seen anything other than mother nature for weeks.

Everything had started to look the same. Trees and more trees, a mountain in the distance, a grey and heavy sky above him. He’d been walking for forever. Slowly he moved west– or at least he thought he was. On the days where the sun hung high in the sky and wasn’t shielded behind a cloudy partition, he liked to watch it as it dipped below the earth. As the days turned shorter and shorter, the display of color had started to get more vivid. Joel would watch the light blue turn red and bloody, fiery tongues of flames licking over the horizon while the sharp edges of the mountains, and the triangular shapes of the trees faded into an intense black– like the shape of the mountain and the trees had been cut out with scissors. There wasn’t much to stay alive for anymore– but Joel lived for those few moments where nature painted with fire. Humanity might’ve gone to shit, but the cyclical regularity of mother nature gave Joel a small sense of peace.

But he missed the kiss of the sun against his cheek now. He’d moved into a large forest a few days ago. Tall trees hovered over him like giants and cast shadows down at him. It was colder here than out in the open country, but at least he’d been somewhat shaded from the rain pouring from the grey cover above his head the last few days.

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

The sound stopped Joel in his tracks. Muscle memory worked on its own, gripping the shotgun slung over his shoulder. He listened for the sound again, to the steady rhythm echoing through the forest.

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

With slow calculated steps Joel walked in the direction of the sound with the shotgun held tightly to his chest, his finger hovered over the trigger. The chopping sound got louder as he closed in on a man. He couldn’t tell his age with the man’s back turned – but he was strong – Joel could tell from how hard the man’s axe hit the tree trunk.

Taking another silent step, Joel got in position, “How ‘bout you slowly turn around and place that axe on the ground.”

Joel’s voice was hoarse after no use, but still cold and calculated as he spoke his order. He could see he’d startled the man, probably thinking he was alone, just like Joel had thought mere minutes ago.

The man obeyed, turning around slowly. He was older than Joel, maybe mid-seventies, maybe older if the wrinkles and creases around his eyes and nose were to be believed. His hair was white as snow matching his unkempt beard. Joel caught his eye. Strong and steady, no trace of fear one would think a man would feel while having a gun pointed at them.

Joel’s grip around the gun tightened. He wasn’t afraid to pull the trigger if that’s where this was headed. The man watched him calmly before he bent his knees, throwing the axe haphazardly on the ground.

“Kick it over here,” Joel commanded again, and the man obeyed, kicking the axe clumsily towards Joel.

Slowly Joel crept closer, gun still pointed at the man. He locked the heel of his shoe against the shaft, dragging the axe behind him and out of the way.

“Hands where I can see ‘em.”

“Are you going to kill me, son?”

The man’s question puzzled Joel. He said it so calmly, like how you’d ask someone to pass the salt.

“That depends on you.” Joel’s answer pulled at the old man’s lips, a small huff of a laugh escaping them.

“Well, you’re the one with the gun. I think it depends on you.”

Joel tightened his grip on the shotgun again – he didn’t know why –to frighten the man? He didn’t seem very frightened.

“Are you alone?” Joel asked.

“Not anymore,” the man answered.

“Don’t be a smartass,” Joel gritted through his teeth, “who you travelin’ with?”

“No one,” the man’s eyes never left Joel, “I live at a farm about a mile away.”

“Take me to it.”

The man walked with a limp Joel noticed. It was barely there, you wouldn’t see it if you didn’t pay attention, but it was there. The man acted tough enough, but his body revealed his weaknesses. It would be easy to kill him, Joel thought, if it came to that.

He followed the man through the trees with his gun pointed at his back. When they reached the end of the forest a clearing revealed itself. They followed a path through a field of, tall but wilted, brown grass until they reached an overgrown gravel road with a fence running along it. Looking out in the distance, Joel could see small spots of white and black wool. The gravel moaned under their feet as they closed in on a small farm. A two-story house sat in the middle of the barnyard where it was surrounded by a barn who’d seen better days, a silo, and a smaller farmhouse – a stable – Joel noticed as they walked closer.

The man trudged up the front stairs of the main farmhouse, a hand on the handrail keeping him steady.

“Put that gun away would you, son? I don’t want you frightening my wife.” The man broke the silence between them, speaking for the first time since they left the woods.

Joel’s grip on his shotgun didn’t loosen. How could he be sure that this man’s ‘wife’ wasn’t some gang of raiders hiding behind the front door? A question he asked the man through gritted teeth when he turned around to look at Joel.

“There’s nothing of the sort around here,” the man said, “we don’t even see any infected.”

When Joel didn’t say anything, and didn’t lower the gun, the man spoke again, “Who are you?”

“Just someone passin’ through,” Joel answered, making the man chuckle.

“You’re something else, passer-througher,” the old man smiled before he turned around again and stepped inside, leaving Joel on the porch alone.

Abandoned outside he lowered his gun slightly. Inside he could hear muffled voices, a deeper one, definitely the old man, and a brighter one, a woman’s voice. He listened, trying to make out their words with no prevail. The man seemed to have spoken the truth up until now. He most definitely lived on this farm – a seemingly normal farm. This man was just someone making an honest living – even after the apocalypse.

Lowering the gun completely, Joel put the safety on before he slung it over his shoulder. Taking a hollowed step towards the front door, movement in the window to the right of him caught his eye. It was there and then it was gone – just a ruffle of blonde curtains. Then, the door opened revealing an elderly woman.

The man’s wife.

“Welcome, traveler,” she greeted, stepping aside to let Joel in.

He passed through the doorway with a “Thank you, ma’am,” never forgetting his manners even after pointing a gun at her husband.

Inside it looked like a picture taken straight out of a Homes & Gardens magazine. The house was cozy, but it was small. He’d been welcomed into what probably used to be a parlor, but now served its purpose as their living room. It was hard to get a read on the house. Not like those open-floor plan houses he’d built too many of back before the outbreak – this was old, maybe hundreds of years old. The floorboard creaked under his shoes as he walked deeper into the living room, the rest of the house locked away like a secret behind three closed doors. The man was seated in a lounge chair by the fireplace, watching Joel with an expression Joel found it hard to decipher.

“Would you like some tea?” the woman asked, “It’s peppermint from our garden.”

Joel turned his head to the woman. She must be around the same age as the old man, Joel thought. He cleared his throat before he answered with a nod, “Thank you, ma’am.”

She pointed to the sofa, urging him to sit down with a smile before she disappeared through one of the doors to what Joel thought must be the kitchen. He felt the old man watching him as he slid his backpack off his shoulders, placing it on the creaky wooden floor behind the sofa. Joel hesitated for just a second when placing the shotgun up against the back, but decided he wasn’t in any imminent danger.

Joel almost groaned as he sat down. He’d been walking for so long, slept on the hard ground for months, he’d almost forgotten what a comfortable chair was. It almost felt surreal, being invited in for tea, like the outbreak had never happened. Here, it was like the time had stood still.

“So,” the man started, “where are you heading to if you’re just ‘passin’ through’?”

Joel cleared his throat again, “I’m lookin’ for my brother,” he answered truthfully, “last I heard he was somewhere in Wyoming.”

“If you’re going to Wyoming, then what you’re doing all the way up here?” The man queried with a chuckle.

Annoyed, Joel grinded his teeth, “Not many signs in the fuckin’ woods are there?” He huffed.

“I guess not,” the man shrugged, “but you’ve made a heck of a detour… where did you come from? Texas? You sound it.”

“Boston.”

“Boston?” the man didn’t hide his surprise, breathing out chuckles in disbelief, “I’ll give it to you, that’s one long trip.”

Joel only huffed in agreement, turning his head from the man to the window overlooking the barnyard.

“Well,” the man broke the growing silence between the two men, “you’re more than welcome to stay for dinner and for the night– you look like you could need a hot meal and a warm bed.”

Joel’s instinct was to say no, but before he could the front door opened, revealing a young woman. You.

You stopped dead in your tracks as you laid your eyes on Joel, “Oh!”.

The door slammed behind you. Under your arm you were carrying a metal bucket filled with apples. You were beautiful, young, but still beautiful – Joel couldn’t deny it.

“This is…” The man paused.

“Joel.” He cleared his throat, introducing himself, “Joel Miller.”

“Mr. Miller is just passing through– he’s looking for his brother,” the old man explained to you.

You nodded at the information, sat the bucket down before you reached out a hand for Joel to take, introducing yourself. Your hand in his was warm and soft while his own dwarfed yours, rough and calloused. He couldn’t help but think about what his hands had done, the people they’d killed. He shouldn’t be tainting yours, painting them red. Joel quickly drew his hand back, balling it into a fist at his side.

Joel looked over at the old man, “Your daughter?” he asked with a tilt of his head in your direction.

“Oh, no,” the man answered with a playful smile, “You’re not the first person ‘passin’ through’ who’s shown up on our doorstep.”

The door to the kitchen opened to reveal the old woman with a teapot in her hand, and a stacked tower of teacups in the other.

“Let me help you Alma,” you said, taking the teacups from the old woman’s hand before placing them on the table; one in front of Joel, a second in front of the old man, “Here you go Arthur,” and a third next to Joel.

“Did you also want some tea, sweetie?” Alma asked you as she placed the steaming teapot on the table.

“Yes, please, but I can grab a cup myself– sit down,” you smiled and padded the old woman’s shoulder, then you grabbed the bucket of apples and disappeared into the kitchen.

Alma started pouring the tea as a silence fell over the room. A small, “Thank you, ma’am,” left Joel’s lips as she moved on to pouring tea for her husband.

“So,” the man started before taking a sip of his tea, “what do you say Mr. Miller? You staying for the night?”

That night as he laid in a real bed for the first time in months, Joel had trouble falling asleep. He wasn’t used to this. Hadn’t been used to it for a while. His belly full, soft fabric against his skin, feeling warm, and clean. The old couple had offered him one of the two bedrooms on the first floor, the two mystery doors in the living room now revealed. Laying in his new bed he tried not to think about who he was sharing a wall with.

You.

You were something else, helpful and kind. Everything Joel hadn’t seen since the outbreak. At the dinner table you’d asked him questions and listened intently – even when his answers were short and brisk. There was a glimmer in your eye, and it touched something inside him he hadn’t felt in a long time. But you were young, mid to late twenties he reckoned, maybe a little older– anyways, he shouldn’t be harboring anything for you, it wouldn’t be right. Especially now, now that he’d agreed to stay.

After the dinner plates had been cleared, Arthur had folded a big map out on the table. “Here are we now,” he’d pointed a finger at the map. Montana. Southern Montana to be precise. “I’ll give it to you Mr. Miller, if you’ve made it this far on your own you probably won’t have any trouble making your way down south to Wyoming.”

“But?” Joel watched the grimace pulling at the old man’s face.

“But,” Arthur had said, “Winter is just around the corner and… well, going back out there in the wilderness alone during our winters is a dead trap, I’ll tell you that much.”

Joel had let the man go on about the far below freezing temperatures, the heavy snow, and the tough wind, but Joel wasn’t stupid. He knew the winters up here were harsh. It wasn’t even winter yet, but every day he’d felt the temperature drop lower and lower, and the last few of nights he’d even had to get a fire going, against his better judgement.

So– the deal was: Joel would stay over the winter. Just for the winter, he’d been adamant on not staying longer. He’d get a place to stay, a warm bed to sleep in, and food in his belly on one condition – he’d help out on the farm.

The fire crackled loudly, red tongues licking up the chimney as Joel fed it another log. He watched as the fire caught in the new log, devouring it quickly and with no mercy. It was really starting to heat up now. A small flicker of pride sparked in Joel chest. He’d always been good at building a fire. It was one of those things, Joel had come to learn, where you needed to pay attention, to have patience.

When he was younger, he’d take Tommy out camping sometimes, just the two of them. Mostly they’d go during the summer; Tommy wasn’t a fan of sleeping outside in the cold, though cold had meant something different back then in Texas. But Joel remembered one time he’d managed to convince him to go with him. It was right after he’d gotten his driver’s license, and his parents had given him a beat-up truck for his birthday – for sharing – they’d told him, “You need to give your little brother a ride when he needs it!” Joel wasn’t exactly thrilled about his future as Tommy’s private driver, but it didn’t mean he didn’t love his brother.

A few weeks into October he’d managed to convince Tommy to go camping. They’d packed the truck with their tents, sleeping bags, and fishing equipment, before they’d gotten on the road, driving to a lake where they knew there were fish to catch. Finding a place to camp was always difficult with Tommy. They’d parked Joel’s truck at the edge of the forest before they’d followed a hiking trail. Joel was convinced they’d walked at least three quarters of the way around the lake before they found a spot good enough for Tommy.

It had to be flat, but also shielded. There couldn’t be too many rocks, but there also had to be enough rocks to build a hearth. Tommy wanted it to be private, but he also wanted it to be open enough that he could see if someone would stumble upon their camp. Joel knew not to argue with him when he got like that, opting instead for a defeated, “Whatever.”

Setting up camp went relatively easy. They’d worked together building the tents, collecting rocks for their fireplace, and even managed to find a fallen tree to use as a bench. When the night slowly started to cover them in darkness, Tommy decided to get the fire going. Joel watched him work the logs into a pile as he started on filleting the fish they’d just caught.

“You’re doin’ it wrong,” he’d told his brother, “You’re suffocatin’ it.” He’d washed his hands in the lake, ridding himself of the slimy smell of fish, before crouching down next to Tommy.

The fire was one big bowl of smoke, and Joel caught himself wondering what messages Tommy must’ve been sending to the heavens. He removed some of the heavier logs, and the fire could breathe.

“See?” he’d looked at Tommy, “It just needed air.” Joel had shifted the smaller pieces of wood around and not long after the fire was alive.

That Joel, that green boy who liked to take his little brother camping, that Joel didn’t know how much those skills would come in handy in a few years when the world would get turned upside down.

“Do you have any mittens, Joel?”

Your question pulled Joel from his memories. He turned his head slightly, meeting your gaze from where you were huddled up in the corner of the couch. You looked cozy, but he knew you weren’t. The house was cold this morning, outside a thin layer of frost had stuck to the grass during the night. It was early too, the sun not having climbed high enough yet to peek over the mountains. You looked tired where you sat, clad in a wool sweater with a blanket pulled over your knees. Under the blanket Joel remembered you were still wearing your pajama pants, and in your hand you held a steaming cup of tea, peppermint, Joel knew, his own cup abandoned on the coffee table.

“What?” Joel answered, eyebrows furrowed.

“Do you have any mittens, Joel?” you repeated softly, like the way people tended to speak in the mornings, like they were afraid they’d wake up the world.

His calves were starting to burn from the strain of being crouched in front of the fireplace for a moment too long, and he tried his best to hide his groan, biting his teeth together as he stood to his feet, knees cracking loudly.

“Um, no,” he said, confused about your question.

“I’ll knit you a pair then,” you smiled before putting your cup down next to his.

“That’s… that ain’t necessary,” Joel hurried, but you waved him off.

“Sure it is,” you smiled again, much to Joel’s annoyance. He didn’t deserve your kindness, but you gave it away like it cost nothing. “If you’re gonna be helping Arthur out in the woods this winter, you need some mittens.”

Joel watched as you got up from your home on the couch and vanished into your bedroom. A moment later you appeared in the doorway with a basket under your arm.

“Also…” you gave him another smile as you sat back down again, placing the basket in your lap. It was close to overflowing with yarn, balls of black and white in varying sizes peeking over the top, the homespun ends fraying against the rough edges of the basket. “I’ll have something to do during the evenings,” you winked before you rummaged through the basket and fished out a measuring tape.

Joel shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he watched you. Mittens? Joel can’t remember if he’s ever owned a pair of mittens. Gloves, sure, but mittens?

You patted the cushion next to you, urging him to sit down, kind smile hanging off your lips like always. Sitting down, he folded his hands in his lap, suddenly very aware of how close you were sitting. It wasn’t like he hadn’t sat next to you before; he’d been here a few weeks now, and he was starting to know you, but for some reason, this felt different. Maybe it was the early morning, the quiet house, or the fact that Alma and Arthur were still sleeping upstairs, but it felt like it was just the two of you, alone, and Joel didn’t know how to feel about it.

You shifted towards him, the blanket slipping slightly off the couch with your movement, in your hands you held the measuring tape while you looked at him expectantly.

When Joel didn’t move, a smile quirked at the corner of your mouth before you grabbed one of his hands resting in his lap. You uncurled his fingers slowly, one by one, making Joel hold his breath.

“I need to see how big I need to make them,” you whispered, holding his hand very gently.

Joel’s heart hammered in his chest. Your hand was warm and soft, like the last time he’d touched you as you’d introduced yourself to him. Joel didn’t dare look at your face, or he’d say something stupid, so he didn’t. He looked at your joined hands, his brain trying to remember the last time someone had held his hand as gently as you did, your thumb running over the back of it soothingly.

He can’t remember. His hands are always empty.

With your other hand, a finger curled around the measuring tape, you slipped it around his wrist before leaning closer to look at the numbers.

“Is this too tight you think, or do you want them to be looser?” You asked through your lashes, eyes sparkling in the low morning light.

Joel cleared his throat, “No, that’s fine.”

“Okay,” you nodded, slipping the measuring tape from his wrist to write down the measurement. He hadn’t noticed your notebook until now. It was a little rough around the edges from use, the spined cracked and the paper a little yellow. Placing the pen in the seam, you grabbed the measuring tape again.

Loosening your grip on his hand you placed it over the thick of your thigh. Joel drew a quick breath, his heartbeat hammering in his ears, under his hand he could feel the warmth of you through the soft flannel.

You continued taking your measurements. You didn’t say anything, so neither did Joel, but you looked up at him through your lashes sometimes, and Joel thought that maybe the most useful thing one can do with empty hands, is hold on.

The creak of the stair made Joel jump, and like he’d been burned his hand retracted on reflex, as Arthur’s heavy steps got closer.

“Morning,” Arthur greeted as he ducked his head through the door to the living room.

“Mornin’,” Joel mumbled, head lowered as he gathered his hands in his lap.

“Good morning!” you smiled, always with that kind smile, “Did you sleep well, Arthur?” you got up from your seat before grabbing your teacup to follow Arthur into the kitchen, leaving the yarn and Joel.

Taking a deep breath, Joel pinched the top of his nose. He needed to get it together. You were just being your regular kind self; your soft touch was nothing more than that. Standing to his feet, Joel grabbed his own cup, trudging into the kitchen.

In the kitchen Arthur sat in his usual spot at the dining table, the chair closest to the window. “I need to get on with this barn soon,” Joel heard him say as he sat down opposite him. “It’s gonna fall apart come spring if we get as much snow as we did last year.”

Joel tried his best not to look at you as he heard you hum. You were stood at the kitchen counter slicing the bread Alma had baked yesterday, readying breakfast. Instead, Joel opted to gaze down into his teacup, where the peppermint leaves had all gathered at the bottom.

“Um,” Joel cleared his throat, “what needs fixin’?”

“What doesn’t need fixing in that barn?” Arthur sighed, peeling his eyes from out the window to Joel.

“I can uh,” Joel eyes shifted quickly to you before he cleared his throat again, “I can take a look at it, if ya want?”

Arthur’s eyebrows met in a furrow as he looked at Joel.

“I used to be a contractor,” Joel explained with a shrug, before taking a last cold sip of his tea.

“So, you know a thing or two about buildings I reckon?” Arthur asked.

“Yeah, well I used to,” Joel leaned back in his chair.

“Well, that would be very helpful Joel– I’d appreciated it!” Arthur smiled before leaning back in his chair making room for you as you started setting the table. Joel gave him a short nod in return, trying to fight the urge to look at you as you placed the food on the table.

Arthur had downplayed the state of the barn – it was a mess – it was dangerous, and had Joel told him as much. But it was nothing Joel couldn’t fix, as long as he had the right supplies, fortunately for him the forest would provide them with what they needed.

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

The axe dug a deep wound into the bark with every swing. Joel’s breath was heavy, and his arms ached, but it was a welcomed form of tiredness. A month into it, he was starting to get used to the work. There was something so satisfying about manual labor, of using his hands, of making something – he’d almost forgotten.

The routine of the work felt good. Waking up at dawn, then breakfast, he could use his body for something useful for the first time in twenty years and end the day with a warm meal for supper. This <s>new</s> temporary life was simple, but it was strangely normal.

Originally, Joel was only helping Arthur out in the woods for firewood through the winter– but now with the barn, they’d changed course. The last few days they’d started to become more selective with the trees; looking for the tallest and straightest ones that would fall safely.

A frozen sky hovered over the men as they worked. This morning when Joel had woken up, the thinnest layer of snow had fallen like powdered sugar during the night, turning the world bright with winter. Earlier in the week the frost had perched on the farm, and Joel had known winter was closing in. He’d lost count of the days and months passing while on his own, but Arthur had told him it was late October.

“It will start snowing properly soon,” Arthur said, breaking the silence between them.

Joel hummed before taking a bite of his packed lunch. They’d worked all morning – Joel felling the trees and Arthur cleaning them up and removing the branches. Now they were sat on a fresh tree stump each, their first break of the day.

“I have an old logging sled in the barn– used to be my father’s,” Arthur explained, “I think we should leave the trees here until the snow gets deep enough for the sled and have the horses pull them back to the farm.”

“Fine by me,” Joel took another bite of his lunch.

“The logs will have to dry out over the winter,” Arthur mused, “Then come spring we can start the repairs on the barn.”

Spring. If everything goes according to plan, Joel won’t be here come spring. He needed to find Tommy– he couldn’t, and he wasn’t gonna stay on the farm for any longer than necessary. He’d already decided– when the snow finally started to melt, Joel was gone.

Joel hummed, a non-committed answer. It was easier that way, to not get Arthur’s hopes up. He liked Arthur, he was a good man, a hard worker even in his old age, and silent when Joel wanted him to be. Joel liked Alma too, but her age shined through more easily than Arthur’s. Joel couldn’t help but notice her repeating herself more often and forgetting where she put things. It made life harder for you, Joel could see it. Your responsibilities were already a lot to handle as you took care of the animals mostly by yourself, but as Joel had discovered Alma starting to struggle with the housework, he’d noticed you starting to help her more often. In Joel’s mind it was unfair to you, but it wasn’t like he could blame Alma for growing older, in this world it was a feat.

Still, he’d try his best to help you when he could, like doing the dishes after dinner as you dried them off and put them away. The first few times you were both quiet, it was strangely intimate, only the sound of splashing water filling the space between you. One night he'd gotten brave, breaking the comfortable silence and asked you ‘What you thinkin’ about, sweetheart?’ You’d looked at him with big eyes, searching his own for something, but before he could figure out what it was, you’d answered him with a shrug. It was unlike you, unlike you to be this silent, but Joel didn’t push. The next night the silence persisted, and he’d thought adding ‘Sweetheart’ had been too much, but then the next night you’d sighed quietly and whispered, “I’m worried about Alma.”

Looking down at the mittens in his lap, the guilt gnawed at him. The look of worry in your eyes, Arthur’s hopeful wishes, and Alma’s aging. Joel couldn’t have anything tying him to this place. He was supposed to find his brother.

Suddenly, a black and orange butterfly landed on Joel’s knee. Joel stopped breathing, body going rigid as he tried not to move. How the hell was this butterfly still alive? It sat quiet on his knee, wings slowly retracting and widening behind it. Memories pushed its way to the forefront of Joel’s mind then.

Sarah. Another year had gone by, and the thought made his chest tighten.

“That’s quite a sight at this time of year,” he heard Arthur say, “Beautiful, aren’t they?”

“Y-yeah,” Joel stammered out an answer, afraid his voice would scare it away.

The longer Joel watched the butterfly he found his guilt started to slowly melt away. It’s okay, dad. It was like the rustling of the trees carried her voice with them. You’re on the right path.

“I can do that f’you want, sweetheart.”

Joel’s boots creaked under him as he walked across the barnyard. You looked up at the sound of his voice, smile blossoming across your face as you tightened your grip on the shovel.

“It’s alright,” you said with a grunt as you picked up more snow, adding it to the growing pile, “Good for me to get some physical work in.”

Joel nodded as you straightened up, hand going to your hip while the other leaned on the shovel, your heavy breath curled in small plumes out of your mouth. You took him in for a second, eyes flickering over his form before they fell on the rabbits hanging over Joel’s shoulder.

“Where’d you get those?” you asked, and Joel shrugged.

“Shot ‘em,” he said simply, “they walked right by me as I was choppin’– seemed too good to pass up.”

“Not for the rabbits,” you muttered, and Joel had to fight the urge to smile.

“You a vegetarian or somethin’?” he asked with a single raised eyebrow, and you waved him off.

“No,” you said pointedly, but a teasing lilt lingered, “Just stating a fact... we don’t eat a lot of rabbit around here, is all.”

Joel nodded slightly; it made sense. He knew there was a gun in the house, but it was a revolver– too small to do any real hunting, and Joel didn’t even know if there were bullets for it. So, Joel didn't ask further. Lucky for him, you did.

“So, you just shot those?” you asked, a frown pulling at your eyebrows, “Aren’t they fast?”

Joel made a nonchalant sort of face. “Ain’t that hard when you can aim straight.”

“Well, how do you aim straight?”

“You learn to shoot.”

You let out a small laugh, one that pulled at Joel’s lips. “And how did you go about learning that?”

Joel felt his smile drop, the leather strap of his shotgun weighing heavy on his shoulder, “Practice.”

You didn’t seem to notice the change in his demeanor as you dug the shovel into the snow, so it stood by itself like a watchman. “Can you teach me?” you asked, the snow creaking under your shoes as you took a few steps closer.

His lips pulled at the corner, “No.”

Your eyes widened with disappointment, eyebrows pulling together in a frown as you asked, “Why?”

“Nothin’ good ever comes from it,” Joel shrugged.

“Okay,” you huffed a laugh, “that’s sinister.” Then you narrowed your eyes at him, gearing up for an argument no doubt with the way you rested your hand on your hip. “What if I also wanted to go hunting?” you posed, and Joel shook his head.

“That ain’t happenin’, sweetheart.”

“Okay, but now you’ve brought us rabbits– and what if I end up really liking rabbit?” you bit down on your bottom lip, unconsciously showing off you own rabbit teeth.

Cute.

“Then I’ll shoot as many rabbits as you want,” Joel countered with a teasing smile before tightening his hold on the rope slung over his other shoulder (the one he’d tied the rabbits to), and walked towards the kitchen door at the back of the farmhouse.

He heard you huff in defeat behind him, your creaky steps following him up the stairs and inside. Walking into the kitchen Joel placed the rabbits on the table before he pulled at his mittens, stripped off his jacket, and hung it neatly over the back of one of the dining chairs. Grabbing one of the rabbits he brought it to the kitchen counter to start dressing it, fighting the urge to turn his head as he heard you enter the room.

“Come on, Joel,” you whined, “Why won’t you teach me?”

“Told you already,” Joel replied, “Nothin’ good comes from learnin’ to shoot things.”

Shifting the rabbit around on the counter he reached for the butcher knife in the knife block.

“You know, that’s a really stupid way of saying you don’t want to spend the time,” you told him, your voice closer now as you leaned against the kitchen counter.  

“When exactly did ya hear me sayin’ I don't wanna spend time with you?” Joel asked, his eyebrows pulled together in a frown.

“You won’t teach me to shoot,” you teased, and Joel could hear the smile in your voice.

Joel huffed out a laugh, “Damn right I won’t.”  

He heard you let out a whiney huff, before you turned on your heel, muttering out a curse under your breath when you accidently bumped your hip into the counter and Joel couldn’t help the smile teasing at his lips. You sat down with an overdramatic sigh, and Joel still didn’t look at you – he knew he’d cave eventually if he did, say yes against his better judgement – so he kept his eyes on the knife in his hand.

“How’s Arthur?” Joel asked as he worked.

“I don’t know,” you sighed, “The same I think– Alma was up there looking after him last time I checked.”

This time Joel allowed himself to look at you. You sat sideways on the wooden chair, legs crossed and tucked under your chair with your head hanging, eyes glued to your lap. Gone were the teasing, and gone were the smiles.

“He’ll be fine,” Joel said, his eyes back on the rabbit, “it’s just a cold.”

“Yeah… but he’s been getting sick a lot more often,” your voice was low, like you didn’t want them to hear you upstairs, “you can’t help but think the worst you know?”

Joel put the knife down and moved over to the sink. He quickly washed his hands before grabbing a towel to dry off, twisting it in his hands as he approached you. Placing the towel on the counter, he hesitated for a moment as he watched you, watched the way you twisted your hands in your lap with no sense of purpose or intent. It was like the worry dripped down your body. Pushing off the counter Joel knelt in front of you, a grunt escaped him as his knees clicked loudly, his balance slightly off on his haunches.

“Shit,” Joel huffed out a laugh, and you followed. Your palms landed on his knees to keep him steady, warmth spreading like jolting electricity.

“Sweetheart, I’ll tell you what–” he stopped himself when you looked at him through your lashes, trying to ignore the way your eyes focused on his mouth as he spoke. “’s just a cold, he’ll be up ‘n walkin’ tomorrow– man’s got gumption.”

“Yeah?” your eyes flickered upwards, meeting his.

Suddenly, under your gaze Joel felt brave. His hand moved on its own accord, cupping your cheek in his hand. He let his thumb ghost over your skin, still cold under his fingertips from being outside, but warming under his touch.

“Yeah, sweetheart.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment, you only watched him with glimmering eyes, like you were under a spell. Maybe he was too.

“Still,” you sighed, “Would be better if I could pick up more of the slack around here... Arthur does a lot, and I wish I could do more to support them.”

“Like what? You take care of the animals all by yourself– that’s more than enough.”

“Well, I could learn to shoot rabbits,” you told him, before the corners of your mouth pulled into a pleased smirk as he rolled his eyes at you.

Reluctantly, he pulled his hand away, making a move to stand when you grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

“I’m kidding, Joel,” you smiled, before a more serious look washed over your features. “I mean it’s… It’s gonna be empty here without you,” you said, “I’m starting to really like having you here, Joel.”

Joel turned his hand to rest the back of it on your thigh, your hand fitting in his.

“I uh,” his eyes fixated on your joined hands, then he cleared his throat, “I’ll stay as long as you need me to. I’m not leavin’ you alone, sweetheart.”

Your eyes lit up at his words, smile growing large across your face. Joel’s heart drummed in his chest as your eyes flickered down to his mouth again.

“Thank you,” you said in a low voice, and then you did something Joel thought was gonna make his heart stop beating. You leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. It bloomed against his skin, and made wings flutter against the walls of his stomach.

“You’re a good man, Joel Miller,” you whispered before you pulled away, looking at him with kindness in your eyes.

If only you knew, Joel thought, if only you knew the blood on his hands.

He couldn’t look at you when you looked at him like that. Like you believed your own words. So, he cleared his throat awkwardly and stood to his feet, his knees clicking as your hand slipped from his movement. He walked back to the counter, fingers grabbing the towel with no other purpose than to calm himself down.

After placing the towel back where it usually hung, he grabbed the knife again, turning his attention back to the rabbit, allowing himself to steal a few glances at you where you sat looking out the kitchen window.

“Hey, uh,” Joel broke the growing silence after a few minutes, “how ‘bout rabbit stew for lunch?”

Your head snapped to look at him as he spoke, a smile ghosting over your lips as you said, “I’ll go get some vegetables from the cellar.”

Joel wouldn’t necessarily call himself a good cook – he wouldn’t even call himself a cook in the first place. Back before the outbreak he’d been forced to learn the basics as a fresh single dad, but he’d never been able to provide Sarah with gourmet meals very often, and when Sarah had gotten older, he’d been embarrassed to say that her food was always better than his – eggshells and all. One summer he’d bought himself a nice grill– one of those way too expensive gas grills with too many fancy accessories for Joel to regularly use. He’d had a job that ended up paying well, some rich guy’s mansion that needed renovating, and decided to treat himself for once. That summer all their meals had come from that grill, well mostly, and afterwards Joel looked at himself as a pretty good griller, if nothing else.

You on the other hand, you knew what you were doing, it was clear in the effortlessly way you moved beside him as you got the vegetables ready for the stew. Joel seared the meat to the best of his abilities, making sure it was properly browned on both sides before setting it aside. After that, it was clear that you were in charge, and Joel let you boss him around and tell him what to do. It made his heart warm around the edges, watching how you put so much love and care into everything you did.

An hour later you finally sat down to eat; two hearty bowls of stew each as light snowflakes covered the world outside. You’d let the pot simmer on low over the heat as you’d wanted to bring up a bowl for Arthur and Alma later.

“So…” you started, watching as Joel dug into his bowl, “How’s the stew?”

“’s good!” Joel nodded through a mouthful, and he wasn’t lying. It was good, really good in fact.

“Yeah?” you bubbled through a smile, before you dug into your own bowl to see if he’d spoken the truth. He watched as you face brightened as you chewed, nodding your head to confirm his verdict.

“I think I really like rabbit, Joel,” you said through a teasing smile, and Joel couldn’t fight the chuckle from spilling.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, teasing smile not going anywhere, “So… when are you teaching me to shoot?”

“Shut up.”

The living room was quiet, safe for the cracking of the fire. It had almost died out when Joel had stepped out of his room. He’d been twisting and turning again, counting sheep, but nothing had been able to pull him under the blanket of sleep. He was plumb tired too, that was the worst part. The embers hummed with a low light, and with a small stick Joel had spread them out before placing a small piece of wood on top. No less than a minute later the fire fed on the log.

Taking a seat and leaning back in the lounge chair, Joel looked out the window with tired eyes. The moon looked down on him, big and bright, it shone its white light over the barnyard like a spotlight. His thoughts were clouded over as he gazed up. A billion little lights turning into bright spheres in the sky.

On nights like this, Joel felt like he was barely breathing at all.

His thoughts didn’t stray for long before they found you again. Lately, you were always on his mind. He thought about how you’d looked mere hours ago, when he’d sat in this same exact chair, only this time it was facing towards the sofa and not the window.

You’d been sat curled up in the corner, blanket thrown over your lap with a book in hand. You’d told him you’d read all the books in the house already, but it didn’t stop you from coming back to your favorites. Joel had been reading his own book, an old western he’d found in the bookshelf in the upstairs hallway a few days ago. It was entertaining, but not enough to hold his attention. He found his eyes had a mind of their own, slipping over the top to steal a peek at you as you read, feeling a smile tug at his lips at the barely there furrow of concentration between your eyebrows.

“Joel.”

Joel perked up at the whisper of his name, the memories fading like ripples in still water. He looked around the room –nothing. He sat quietly in his chair for a moment, listening, as his heartbeat quickened in his chest. It had been your voice, hadn’t it? Or was he starting to lose it? His eyes fell to the door of your bedroom. He hadn’t noticed it until now, but he could see it was slightly ajar.

“Joel.”

The voice was louder this time, almost strained, but it was yours. A thousand scenarios flashed before his eyes then at your tone. Was there someone in your room? Were you in danger? Seconds later Joel crossed the room, a mix of fear and protectiveness overcoming him.

Leaning up against your door he listened for the intruder as he readied himself. The soft crinkling of your sheets combined with your strained whimpers was all it took for him to push the door open, fearing the worst.

And…

It was empty, your room, you were alone. Joel immediately felt stupid– the only intruder here was him.

He was about to step out, embarrassed at his actions, when he heard it again, his name falling from your lips. It was all Joel needed to finally take in your body, squirming under your sheets, still asleep. The realization of what he’d just walked in on made Joel’s eyes widen.

Laying on your back, the duvet had slipped down your torso from your movements to reveal the thin t-shirt you wore to bed. Like this he could see your perked nipples through the fabric, as your chest quickly rose and fell, making Joel’s imagination start to run wild.

“Joel.”

In his pajama pants, Joel could feel his cock come alive from the soft whimper that left your lips along with his name. He couldn’t move, like some farm elf had glued his feet to the floor while he wasn’t looking. He watched as you scrunched your face together in pleasure, another whimper falling from your lips, and all the blood in Joel’s body rushed down south.

As if the soundwaves from your voice had broken against him, he took a step backwards, and then another, and another until he crossed the threshold of your door. He tried his best to be quiet, to not wake you and have you catch him in your room in the middle of the night.

The image of you squirming under your sheets, dreaming of him, didn’t leave him as he closed the door to his own room. With a sigh his head fell against the door, a strong hand gliding down his front to hover over his aching cock.

Joel Miller was no saint, but what he was doing– what he was about to do, was bad.

“Shit,” he quietly hissed, running his hand up his clothed cock. He hadn’t touched himself properly in a long time, not since he left Boston.

His cock reacted to his touch, growing harder and harder until he couldn’t take it anymore. He hooked his finger around the hem of his pajama pants, pulling them down to the thick of his thigh, freeing himself. He hissed at the cold air hitting his length, as it bopped with the movement of being freed. Bringing his hand to his mouth, Joel spat, before he wrapped his spit-soaked hand around himself.

His mind found you again as he started stroking himself, slowly at first, pumping himself with a practiced hand, squeezing himself at the base before bringing his hand up to thumb at the tip. Joel couldn’t get the way you sounded out of his mind. Couldn’t forget how you were squirming in your bed, dreaming of him. Couldn’t shake the thought of pulling those moans and whimpers from you with his hands, and his mouth, and with his cock.

“Fuck.”

Joel tried to be quiet, but he couldn’t fight the moan from slipping from his lips. Fuck, he wanted you. He wanted his hands all over you. Closing his eyes his mouth dropped open as he imagined what he was dying to do to you.

How much he’d wanted to help you out of your t-shirt, run his hands over your breasts and tease your nipples. Take his time to pull those moans and whimpers from your soft lips as he teased you with kisses down your body, down the valley of your breasts, your tummy, down to you to your–

Another low moan fell from Joel’s lips. He squeezed himself tighter as he jerked himself off, precum pearling at the tip, and slipping down his length, mixing with his spit.

The sound of the slick rhythm of his hand filled his bedroom as he increased the pace of his strokes. He had to bite down on his lip to strangle a groan when thoughts of getting between your legs, spreading them open and getting his mouth on you filled his head. He fantasized about how you’d taste falling apart on his tongue–Fuck, how you’d sound falling apart around his cock.

His eyes fell shut as he fisted himself faster. Joel could feel his orgasm quickly building, coiling tight in his tummy. With his free hand he cupped his balls, and then he couldn’t help but imagine it was you, a picture of you on your knees before him flashed behind his eyelids, your tongue lapping at his balls while your hand pumped his cock.

“Shit.”

With a strained groan, thick ropes of cum spilled over his knuckles and down his length, coating him in his release. His breath came out ragged, as he continued his strokes, milking himself of the rest of his release.

Fuck.

His cock softened in his hand as he calmed down from his high. With a quiet groan he pushed himself off the door, looking around his room for something to clean himself up with.

The guilt of what he’d done washed over him quickly, settling in his chest like a heavy weight. You were so young, and beautiful, and Joel just an old man. He shouldn’t want you like this, shouldn’t want you this much.

Climbing under the covers, Joel couldn’t shake his thoughts of you, of you dreaming about him in your bed, about your smiles, and your touch. A supercut of you rolling like a tape in his minds eye. A supercut of you bundled up under a blanket on the sofa, knitting him his mittens. Of you, your own knitted hat pulled tightly down over your ears as you stepped out into the snow to check on the animals. Of the way you’d looked at him for the first time, with the bucket of apples under your arm, and the sweet taste of them as you’d offered him one later, after dinner.

Finally, Joel could breathe.

i hope someone liked this? if you did a comment, reply or an ask is always welcome and they make me super happy <3 other than that thank you for reading!!

[lxvebun]

I'll wait forever if I have to

synopsis:you're worried Satoru's teasing has gone a bit too far. There's nothing wrong with saving your first kiss for someone special, right?

content: Suguru Geto x gender neutral reader. Fluff! Comes off a lil angsty in the beginning but its fluffy and sickeningly sweet. Around 1k words. Written with hidden inventory arc in mind so you'd be in the same grade together, but read it however you want♡.We are all a little lovesick for Suguru and he's a lil lovesick for you♡ eng is not my first language so i'm sorry for any mistakes♡ enjoy!!

Based on Satoru's version of the fic♡

"Does it bother you that Satoru teases you so much?" The question breaks the comfortable silence you had as he walked you home. Sky fading from pink and orange cotton candy clouds to a clear and deep navy gradient canvas clustered with stars and moonlight.

Suguru is Gojo's bestfriend. You're sure he's used to his antics. Still, Satoru can take it a little far sometimes. Being oblivious to or ignoring the line completely. Crossing over it with a skip in his step and a smirk on his face.

"There's nothing wrong with waiting for the right person, you know." You reassure. Perhaps a little to yourself too. You'd wait forever for him, not that he knows.

(You kinda wish he did.)

You keep your voice soft, and soothing even with the unintentional undertone of worry. But Soothing enough to dulcify if Satoru's teasing did leave some cracks in his heart.

He lets out a low amused hum in agreement. Smooth as warm honey. Its drum startling the butterflies between your ribs awake. Not that he has to do much anyway to awaken them. It seems like they are always fluttering around when he's near. A bit smothering at times. Making your head fog over with images of liquid golden eyes and sickeningly sweet smiles.

You reach the traffic light before he speaks again. Filling the silence of waiting until the red light turns green.

"You don't have to worry about that, y/n. It's not hurting my feelings. I'm more than content to wait for my person" he answers sincerely. Not an ounce of impatience dripped from his voice. He means every word.

My person. his words weigh a little heavy on your heart. My person. Does that mean he already has his eyes set on someone? You're pretty sure a few of the butterflies have lost it's wings. Wings Shriveled and shattered at the thought. Broken bodies wriggling uncomfortably in your gut. Anxious and mourning as you think over who it could be. Would it be different if you'd just confessed already? Did you miss your chance or was there never any to begin with?

(The thought of him making someone else's heart race the way he does yours makes you a little sick)

You don't look at him. He's always been good at reading you, so in tune with your well being. You're an open book to him and usually, you're more than happy to let his fingers glide over the pages. Break you open to study you up close. Hoping that one of the words, one of the chapters in there is enough to lure him in, like a sirens song. Enough to steal his heart ...damn, how dare he fall for someone else.

"Sounds like you already have someone in mind, then". It comes out forced as you swallow down what you really want to say. Unable to decide between cursing him out or confessing to him on the spot.

You keep your gaze at the light ahead as if the force of it can will it into turning from this horrible shade of red to green, so this conversation can be over. So you can continue to walk in silence, so he can drop you off at the front door, wait until he hears the lock click from inside as he always does and you can dive into the comfort of your bed, dream of what could have been and try your best to move on

(You don't think you can if you're honest)

But again, you're an open book to him. He almost looks proud as he glances you over. Standing up a little straighter, failing to suppress a smile. A horribly beautiful smile that does not at all fit the turmoil inside your head. As if you're reaction solidified something in him.

God, how long does it take for a light to switch?

Your gaze doesn't falter as he steps closer to you. His warmth, his cologne enveloping your senses, wrapping around you like a spiderweb. Fitting as you feel like your heart is going to be torn out at any moment. Waiting for the words that will fracture your hopes. you think of just booking it through the red right at this point and leave him to choke on his rejection.

"Will you look at me, please"

He's replicating the soothing tone you used on him. Only he's so much better at it. Smooth like warm butter and sweet as syrup. How could you possibly deny him when he sounds this heavenly.

He's a patient man, he is. But he doesn't want to hurt you. Doesn't want you to shatter your own heart even more by thinking he could ever love someone the way that he loves you. As if he could ever want anyone else when it's always going to be you that captured his heart.

His fingers slide under your jaw, grip delicate as can be as he turns your head to meet his eyes. You're a little embarrassed at the lack of resistance on your part.

His face is kind. And despite your hesitance, his eyes are easy to hold. Feeling like sunsets on a warm summer evening.

"I'm just waiting for you to be ready too. However long it takes."

A timer goes off. The light has finally turned green. you both stay unmoving.

You feel like you've been staring into his eyes for hours when really it's only been a few seconds of silence after his words. Then you half-heartedly push him off. A laugh bubbles up your throat, relief evident in the melodic tone.

"you're awful, you know that?" not a sliver of actual malice in your words. He knows that too. continuing to stare at you fondly, eyes soft and a little love-sick. Smiling brightly at your words as if you complimented him.

"And you're beautiful"  the timer of the traffic light is sounding quicker now, similar to the beating of your heart. Indicating that it will soon turn red again.

You have a moment of bravery. confidence, as you intertwine your fingers with his and pull him across the street before the light turns red. His grip is nice and firm, tracing heart shapes on the back of your hand with his thumb. Doodling silent I love you's into your skin.

you continue to walk to your home together. Hands now interlaced. Hearts intertwined. Crisp evening air kissing your skin and calming the heat blooming in your body.

"I don't want to have my first kiss at a traffic light. You deserve something more romantic than that too," you begin. swaying your hands back and forth. Focusing on the street infront of you. You see your front door coming into view.

"But if you feel the urge to kiss me as you drop me off at my doorstep," you see him begin to grin in the corner of your eye. It tugs at the corners of your lips too

"I'll let you"

thank you for reading, angels!! I'm havinf such Suguru brainrot atm😩🩷 he's so cute.

Also I thought his eyes were brownish/ gold because I always just imagine him with that but they are purple....🔪 YOU🫵 ARE GOING TO IGNORE THAT FOR NOW AND IMAGINE THEY ARE GOLD AS WELL. Thank you🩷

[bisexualiteaa]

How The Boys Met You

Character list: Soap, Price, Gaz, König, and Ghost

AN: This one is a little different than the stuff I’ve been posting lately, sort of a throw back to some of my old content! I will be getting back to the regular stuff as well, just wanted to post some of the things that have been in the works for a while now! Hope y’all enjoy! 🥰

CW: slight OOC task force 141 + König, deviance from the games, fem bodied reader, possibly poor attempt at writing accents, flirting, talk of dating apps, being stood up, mentions of alc0h0l, mentions of w0unds, mostly fluff, slight suggestive themes, cursing, possible grammar and spelling errors

Taglist: @expirednukacola

John “Soap” MacTavish

- He was at his favorite pub, spending the weekend enjoying a few drinks with a couple of the guys.

- Three beers deep, going on about some stupid story that anyone could tell by the guy’s faces that he’d told a million times already, and every time told it as if they hadn’t all been there to witness it just to get to the butt of a joke.

- ✨Then you walked in✨

- He was speechless as you walked up to the bar. Your cute, form fitting dress on, heels that made your legs look absolutely stunning and your make up all done. You looked too damn good to be sitting in a place like this he thought.

- The only thing off about it all? You had a sad look on your face as you sat down, breathing a heavy sigh before the bartender made his way over to you so that you could order a drink.

- It made his heart hurt to see someone so pretty look so sad, not to mention the guys were totally teasing him and daring him to talk to you.

- The “make your move before I do” ™️

- “I’ll have an old fashioned please, extra cherries” you ordered, and he knew right then and there that you were different than the usual crowd this place pulled in.

- “Put it on my tab, I think I’ll have the same” Johnny spoke, making you turn to look at him, intrigued by his Scottish accent and the fact that he had just paid for you.

- You tried telling him he didn’t have to, but he kindly insisted, making you blush before you thanked him.

- “You look beautiful if ya don’t mind me sayin” he said, making you smile at his compliment, the first one you’d gotten all night. “Thank you! It was a new dress I bought for a date tonight but…I got stood up. So I came here instead to take a little of the pain away” you responded, and he understood where the pain in your eyes came from now.

- “Steamin’ Jesus…someone really stood you up? What ‘n idiot. They really missed out. Ya look stunnin’. Anyone would be lucky t’ go out with a gal like you” Johnny said, making you blush again as you smiled.

- Secretly it made your night.

- “How about I give it a try? We have some drinks, I tell you a little about myself, you tell me about your fine self, and we have a good time in the makin’? I’d happily make up for the screw up they made to get t’ know ya and see ya leave with a smile if you’re willin’. And if I’m lucky, hopefully I’ll get t’ leave with your number so we can have a second one” he said, and rather smoothly at that, making you giggle as you took a sip of your drink. “Alright lover boy, seeing as we have drinks, tell me about yourself” you replied with a grin and he lit up with joy at your humor and you accepting his offer.

- Was better than you could have ever expected, certainly better than the stuffy, upscale place you were at originally. You were glad you ended up meeting someone at the pub he soon figured out that you frequented just about as much as he did.

- Even better? You went home with a smile, he went home with your number in his phone, and both of you went home with a plan for a second date. 💖

Captain John Price

- You were a barista at his favorite cafe he’d been going to for years now.

- When he wasn’t gone on deployment, he would come every day at the same time around lunch time, right before the rush, and leave once it was done.

- He ordered the same thing every time. Hot tea no matter the temperature outside, two sugars and a splash of cream and he would sit in the same spot by the window, reading or working on his laptop.

- You learned he was never terribly big on sweets, assuming he got most of his sugar intake with his drink, but every once in a while you’d slip him a bakery item for free.

- He was convinced it was just you being nice and making sure he had food before returning to work because it was a bad habit he was doing his best to break, but anyone else who knew? Was thoroughly convinced it was your own method of flirting with him.

- Sometimes you would take your break and sit and talk with him, try and get to know him more than just his order, the name he would give you to write on the cup and his phone number for the rewards account.

- One day it had been a particularly difficult day before he’d come in, but upon walking in and breathing in the lovely smells, seeing your bright smile, and hearing you sweetly greet him, he already felt ten times better.

- He returned the sentiment as he walked up to the counter, not even opening his mouth before you had put his order in the POS already, wishing to save him the trouble with how stressed and tired he looked. “A delight as always, love” he said, making you smile again. “Rough morning?” You asked as you made it for him, seeing stress written all over his face made you feel for him. “Very” he responded through a sigh as he took out his wallet while talking to you and watching you make it. “Four twenty nine as usual?” He asked, making you smile as you sat it down in front of him. “It’s on the house today. Please, sit and rest, I’ll have it out to you asap!” you said sweetly. “And if it isn’t too classified, I go on break in ten. I’m happy to lend an ear if you wish to confide your burdens or just to talk” you added, making him smile as he took a seat, pulling a chair out for you for when you were clocked out on break.

- You spent a little over time on break talking, having lost track of the time but it wasn’t busy so you knew it was okay.

- As he was about to leave as you were clocking back in, but it was then that he saw you’d left your number on the back of his cup, making him smile before quickly adding you into his contacts.

- Hello love, this is John. I wanted to say it was lovely talking with you today, thank you for the tea and for making the rest of my day go by much better. ❤️ I’d like to take you somewhere that isn’t the cafe sometime if you’d allow me, what do you say? you read on your phone, making a bright smile stretch to your lips as you excitedly responded and planned a proper date with him.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

- Poor Kyle had been on just about every dating app he and the boys could to find to get him the perfect girl to settle down with.

- From Tinder, to Hinge, to failed dates set up by finding people in person, he wasn’t sure if his heart would be able to withstand anymore heartbreak.

- This was attempt number eight, with seven dates failed before this. Why was the dating world so difficult now? He did everything he could to be himself and present himself as someone suitable.

- He swore to himself that if this one didn’t work out, that he would give up on it entirely. After all they do say you don’t find the right one when you’re searching for them, they find you.

- Or at least that’s what the married ones say.

- So when his date was running twenty, almost thirty minutes late to their supposed date, he was hurt but sadly wasn’t shocked either.

- He gave a heavy sigh as he checked his watch, then his phone for any communication from her. No text messages, no calls, absolutely nothing to let him know that his date was on their way or even still on for it.

- You were sat at the bar enjoying a few drinks as you normally do on the weekends, when you saw him walk in and grab a table for two.

- He was a handsome young man in your eyes, nicely dressed in a nice dress shirt, slacks, and a nice jacket seeing as it was raining outside.

- You were slightly saddened to find that he was there waiting for a someone else, assuming he was on a date, but when you’d stolen a few glances his way through the night, you noticed he’d been sitting there for a while and the second person had yet to show up.

- Your heart hurt for him, knowing what it was like to be stood up, it was the reason you gave up on dating all together yourself.

- When more time had passed by and his date still hadn’t shown, you decided to take the faithful leap.

- You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol in your system, or just the way that you sympathized with what he was going through, but just as he was getting ready to stand up and walk out, you found yourself walking over to his table.

- “Hey there handsome, I couldn’t help but see you’ve been sitting here for a while. Mind if I join you?” You asked kindly, and he had to admit, it took him back a bit.

- You looked stunning, donned in a nice cocktail dress, your hair and makeup done nicely, he figured you came here often with the way the waiters knew you and your drink order well.

- “Sure, that sounds lovely actually” he replied, his British accent taking you by slight surprise but with a kind smile in return. Maybe this failed date could take a turn for the better after all.

- You two sat and spoke over shared glasses of wine, some food, and got to know each other some.

- You talked of your hobbies, your work, your life goals, your favorite things, over all it had turned out far nicer than he could have imagined it would have been.

- You were both laughing and talking amongst each other when another woman came up to the table, looking dressed for a date and seemingly not very happy to see you sitting in her place.

- “Umm excuse me, I think you have the wrong guy, I’m supposed to be on a date with him” the girl spoke, pointing to him and regarding him as if he were an object of her possession making you turn to her and you fought to stifle a harsh laugh.

- “Oh I’m sorry, were you the one whose seat I’m in? Funny because you’re about two hours late sister. Finders keepers” you replied, trying to wave her off then turn back to Kyle and ignore the woman who clearly stood him up by the hickies all over her neck that were very poorly covered.

- “Excuse me?!” She asked angrily, making you turn back to her once again, only this time more annoyed at her persistence and rudeness. “Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were dense and rude, I said finders keepers. Should keep that in mind next time when you decide to be late to a date because you were too busy having fun with another” you said, gesturing to her hair that was slightly unkempt and the fresh love bites along her neck.

- It took everything in Kyle to not let his jaw hit the table at your response in his defense.

- He liked you even more now.

- “Oh and newsflash sweetie, that concealer really isn’t your shade. If you want to cover up hickies, find one that matches. Now if you excuse us, we’re trying to have a nice dinner here and I’d really like to get back to the very nice man you decided to stand up” you said, making her angrily scoff and look to Kyle for his defense.

- “Ugh, Kevin! C’mon, tell her to leave! This was supposed to be our night!” She said, making you cringe at her whiney tone and the way she didn’t even know his name.

- “My name’s Kyle and no. She was kind enough t’ come up t’ me when you weren’t here and I’m havin’ a rather lovely time with her. I’m sure the date who entertained you before this would happily take you back. I will not be rude and ask the woman who’s so kindly kept me company to leave because you think you’re entitled to crash our date” he replied, and she did NOT like that one bit.

- “DATE?! Ugh, whatever! I knew I shouldn’t have come here” she said angrily before stomping away once it became apparent that you weren’t leaving.

- He couldn’t have been more relieved, then soon enamored by you. First, you come over to him because you didn’t want him to be alone, then you defend him against his date?

- Where have you been all this time?

- “That was your date? If you asked me, I think you dodged a bullet there” you said with a grin, making him chuckle.

- “I couldn’t agree with you more” he replied, enjoying your company far more.

- “Glad to know you’re having a lovely time with me, because the feeling is quite mutual” you said genuinely, making a blush rise to his face before smiling back at you.

- Once the date was over, you both exchanged numbers, keeping in contact and being sure to step up more dates to come.

- Maybe his married buddies were right, all it took was for him to stop searching and there you suddenly were.

König

- He wasn’t exactly proud of it, but he met you through one of the guys who had set you up with him as a one night stand.

- Someone that would just give him some fun and a chance to relax for a night, with the guys claiming he needed to be “less tense”

- He’d had his fair share of sexual encounters before from past girlfriends and the occasional hookup, but something about you felt different.

- You were kind and sweet, a little shy, and of course really attractive.

- Not to mention the sex was unbelievably good.

- He loved that he was so much bigger than you, that you felt so small in his hands as they slid around your waist and to your hips as he kissed you, and how yours trailed his biceps and hard chest.

- Thought it was cute that you have to get up on your tiptoes to kiss him or to loop your arms around his neck.

- What he loved most was how you toyed with him, how you could be obedient and bratty, you could be dominant and submissive.

- You had an almost chaotic, unpredictable air about you.

- You were the wild card he’s been looking for.

- So as you both laid in his bed, his hand running along your back soothingly as you laid on top of him, naked and enjoying the after glow of the activities you’d just taken part in, the words left him without any second thought.

- “Could we…maybe see each other again, liebling?” He asked, and how you swooned at the nickname and his German accent.

- You thought it was so cute that a man of his stature, someone who looked so scary and big could be so shy.

- “Awww, do I have someone hooked?” You asked in a teasing tone with a devious giggle to match, making him blush at your words.

- “It doesn’t have to be like this again i-if you don’t want it to” he stammered, making you giggle as he tripped over his words a little.

- “I wouldn’t half mind if it was…” you said with a half lidded grin, littering kisses against his neck and chest because truth be told, you were a little hooked on him too.

- “Would you let me take you out? Properly get to know you?” He asked, wanting to treat you right, wanting to show that he had better intentions than just a one night stand if you’d let him.

- He’d have started that way had one of his friends not set this up without him knowing.

- “that sounds really nice” you replied sweetly, liking the idea of maybe seeing where it goes.

- It was adorable seeing the excitement that flashed in his eyes when you agreed, making you giggle.

- “Such a gentleman, I like it” you added, feeling butterflies begin to flutter in your stomach at the thought.

- He gave a chuckle as he rolled you both to where he was on top of you, taking you by surprise at first before looking up at him with that half lidded gaze he couldn’t get enough of.

- “I’ll take you out to dinner, get to know you, treat you right, then we can come back here…and I can be far less gentlemanly” he said through kisses he laid against your neck and shoulder, making you giggle.

- “I’d like that” you whispered in reply as your lips found his once more, a smile donning your lips at the prospect of it.

- He could hardly wait, the guilt of knowing your body first and the rest of you later no longer ate at his conscience as you both were swept up in the moment again.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

- He was a frequent flier to medical more so now than he ever was before since meeting you, and you were the nurse he’d always see to help him.

- Hardly was he ever really there for anything super serious, a cut here, a gash there, an infection from something caught out in the field.

- He rarely ever enjoyed anyone fussing over him, in fact if it weren’t for you, he wouldn’t even go to medical for his injuries, more of the type to tough it out with a bottle of whiskey and some pain pills to take the edge off.

- It was your soft touch on his arm as you stitched him up, the way you respected his privacy in not asking him to remove his mask anytime he was there, even the smell of your shampoo as you tended to a cut on his collarbone.

- You would always smile and shake your head, hands on your hip like a mom whose child got back from causing trouble when he would enter.

- “What’s it this time?” You’d ask before he’d show you, then tell you briefly and vaguely about how it happened and groan and complain that it happened at all.

- This time however was far more serious.

- You saw the blood seeping through his shirt, dripping as he walked, his hand clutched to the wound as he saw you, making you all but drop what you were doing.

- “Si? Oh my god, sit, sit! What the hell happened??” You asked, concern evident in your tone, something he’d never really gotten from others before.

- Did he just hear you call him Si? Oh the poor man was hooked without even knowing.

- “Just a bullet sweetheart, had thousands of ‘em fly my way, just unlucky enough this time t’ ‘ave one land” he said nonchalantly but you could tell by its placement that he was in pain.

- “You’ve been shot and you’re just walking in here as if it were nothing? Why didn’t you call me? I’d have come to you! Actually don’t answer that, I know you’re too stubborn and wouldn’t let me” you replied, making him chuckle.

- You had him lay down on his back, slicing open the shirt with a pair of scissors before tearing it so you could get to the wound quickly and with no obstructions.

- And that was the most attractive thing he swore he’d ever seen.

- “An’ here I thought you were suppose t’ take me out on a date before you rip my shirt off” he said dryly, wanting that look of worry and that tense stressed feeling to fall from you, making you laugh.

- “Fuck, well they didn’t teach us that in basics” you replied, making him chuckle as you laughed along with while getting him and your tools prepped.

- “Maybe that was my lucky shirt” he joked once more, making you roll your eyes with a playful grin but you were still worried about him.

- “We can mourn the shirt later, I’m more worried about the bullet inside of you and getting it out first” you added, making him grin beneath his mask as you blushed a little at the sight of him shirtless.

- “Practically skipped dates one through three at this point, seen me down t’ everything above the belt” he said, making you laugh again as you cleaned his wound and prepped your instruments to remove the bullet.

- “Well, maybe if you keep coming back for me to check on you and the progress of your stitches, then in say maybe…four weeks for proper healing, I’ll take you up on a proper date” you proposed, and he couldn’t lie, he liked the sounds of that.

- “Then, maybe if you’re lucky, we’ll skip the shirt and get below the belt finally too” you said, sending a grin and a wink his way, making him chuckle as the clang of the shell casing hit the metal bowl.

- “That means no more getting shot in that time though, or else you’ll have to wait even longer” you teased, making him chuckle again.

- “Fuckin’ torturin’ me luv. Makin’ me wait that long” he replied, making you giggle a little and you figured it was the morphine kicking in that let him be this open with you, not that he hadn’t been before but he was certainly more relaxed now.

- Would mumble compliments under his breath like “smell s’good luvie” “y’ look s’pretty like that” making your cheeks feel as if they were being light on fire and the smile never leaving your lips.

- Little did you know, he secretly would be counting down the days and had more of a reason not to get himself killed out in the field.

[ghcstpyre]

PINKIE SWEAR.

*•.¸♡ ted "theodore" logan x f!reader

PART ONE. ted is still a virgin. you offer to change that.

contents: virgin!ted, afab!reader, a bit of fluff, angst if you squint, post-excellent adventure, pre-bogus journey, drug use (weed), fingering (f receiving), oral (m receiving), slight praise kink, unprotected p in v sex. MINORS BEGONE!

word count: 7.5k

a/n: after sitting in my drafts for 2 months, it's finally here! i'm so excited to get this one out of my brain and into writing and i really hope you enjoy reading it as much as i've enjoyed/am going to enjoy writing it! :)

taglist: @scarlettspectra

The thick smell of weed hung heavy in the air of Bill and Ted's apartment, its source pinched between your index and middle finger. You'd perched yourself atop the kitchen countertop in one of the few un-cluttered spaces, lazily toking from the joint in your hand.

It was evening in the middle of July and the colours of the sunset shone through the little window opposite you, bathing the messy kitchen in a gold and orange glow. You and Ted had forgotten to crack open a window before you lit up, but by the time either of you had realised you were both too baked to care and the damage had already been done.

Ted was sat on the sofa, his old acoustic guitar in his hands, fingers plucking away an unknown tune. Or maybe it was a tune you should know, but the fingers on the strings were too inexperienced for you to be able to tell what it was. His guitar playing skills had improved somewhat since the History Report fiasco, but not by a huge margin.

You thought that having a literal princess as a girlfriend to impress would help spur him on, and for a time it had done, but you'd noticed Ted becoming more withdrawn since his relationship with Elizabeth had ended. He 'd been pretty torn up over it at the time, but it had been over a month now since they ended things on friendly terms and you'd picked up on his change in demeanor.

It felt cruel, but you couldn't say you were too heartbroken for Ted when he broke the bad news to you. The thick, green worm of jealousy had wriggled its way under your skin and buried itself within your chest the moment Ted introduced Elizabeth to you as his girlfriend. It had been festering there ever since, making its nest within your heart.

Of course, it was your own fault for realising your feelings for Ted a little too late. Everyone always said 'better late than never', but you didn't think you could apply it to the crappy situation you found yourself in.

But now Ted was single again. It seemed the universe had decided to give you another chance.

Slowly, you tilted your head to the side, dragging your gaze away from the view of the sunset to look at the object of your affection. He'd gone from plucking the strings to strumming them listlessly, clearly a million miles away.

Your whole body thrummed with the buzz of your high, a faint ringing in your ears. You knew you were high as hell - it felt like your skull had been stuffed full of cotton wool and your eyes were heavy, sclera tinted red and lids droopy.

As heavy as your eyes felt, you managed to drag your gaze across Ted's form. His mop-like, dark brown hair had fallen into his face like it usually did, but the blazing glow of the sunset shining through the living-room window cast an orange halo around his head, making him look almost angelic. The usual chocolate hues of his eyes were glittering hazel as he sat with the guitar in his hands, basking in the warmth of the setting sun.

Your eyes followed the movements his large hands made on the strings and fretboard of the beat-up guitar. There were a few stickers littered around the front of its body, faded and torn with age, and scratch marks where someone had obviously tried to peel stickers off with little to no success.

For a brief moment, like you'd done so many times in the past, you imagined what it'd be like to have Ted's hands on your body, his fingertips rough and hardened from the strings of his guitars. That familiar and inevitable heat sparked in your core and you squeezed your thighs together against the slight pulsing between your legs.

"Hey," Your voice was mellow and slow as you tried to get Ted's attention. "You gonna help me smoke this or what?" You asked, holding the joint out in his direction.

Ted was promptly pulled away from his thoughts at the sound of your voice, hands ceasing their movements on the acoustic guitar as he looked over at you, and then at the smoke pinched between your fingers. A lopsided grin tugged at his lips. "Oh, yeah."

He set the guitar down next to him and pushed himself up from the dingy green sofa, the old springs within it groaning in protest at the sudden shift in weight. The soles of his white sneakers squeaked on the tiles of the kitchen as he eagerly stumbled his way from the living room, still feeling the effects of your last spliff.

His long fingers took the joint from your own and he settled opposite you, leaning up against the counter next to the sink, just in front of the fish bowl. He lifted it to his pink lips and took a nice, long drag, the cherry on the end burning as orange as the sunset. After a few beats of holding it in, Ted released the smoke in one long exhale, filling the space between you with a thick, pungent cloud.

The red basketball shorts Ted wore hung low on his hips, the waistband of his boxers poking out above them and concealing just below the bottom of his dark snail trail. You had to do your best to drag your eyes away from the mouth-watering view and instead focused your gaze on his chest. It wasn't any less tantalizing - his old San Dimas High School tank top was a little too small for him now and clung to his torso in all the right places, giving you a wonderful view of the slight muscle definition on his body and arms that he usually hid behind baggy t-shirts and jackets.

It wasn't until he'd said your name for a third time that you realised Ted was trying to get your attention. "You okay there dude?" He asked, genuine concern in his eyes, sclera just as bloodshot as yours and lids just as heavy.

You swallowed hard as you composed yourself, offering him a reassuring smile and hoping he hadn't caught you checking him out. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just really stoned."

Ted gave you an amused smirk in return, flashing you with a bright, toothy grin as he brought the joint to his lips once again. "Excellent."

You muffled a snort against your hand. The way Ted and Bill spoke was something you'd always found equal parts amusing and endearing. It was goofy, but somehow you felt it added to Ted's strange charm.

A soft padding could be heard below you as you lightly swung your legs back and forth, your heels knocking against the cupboard door as you watched Ted pull from the spliff. His features took on a somber edge and his eyes glazed over slightly, clearly miles away once again.

"Hey, Ted? Are you okay?" Your voice was soft, cautious almost, as you got his attention. "You've been kind of distant lately. I know breaking up with Elizabeth must've been tough but...do you wanna talk about it?"

He regarded you silently, pursing his lips a little with a slight furrow in his brow. Ted's gaze fell to his feet and he tapped the tips of his sneakers together. Eventually, he nodded. "...Yeah, " His voice was hoarse, almost like the word was a struggle for him to get out. "I think talking might do me some good."

It hurt seeing Ted so visibly deflated like this, but you were glad he was willing to finally open up about things - even if it did mean you had to listen to him pine over his ex. Still, more than anything you just wanted to be there for your friend, as a friend.

Ted offered you a grateful smile, the corners of his full lips quirking upwards beautifully. He reached out to pass you the joint and tingles ran up your arm as your fingers brushed his before taking the joint from him. He swallowed thickly, trying to figure out where and how to begin while he watched you fumble with the lighter, sparking the smoke up again and breathing new life into the cherry on the end.

"It's just...bogus, y'know?" He started, running a hand through his glossy hair. "Elizabeth was my first proper girlfriend - she, Bill, Joanna and I basically did everything together. Being with them was always a most excellent time."

You nodded along as he spoke, toking from the joint and turning your head away slightly to blow the smoke out, away from Ted's face. The green worm coiled around your heart squeezed.

"But now it's just the three of us and I'm a total third wheel all the time. Or - or it's the three of them, without me. Elizabeth said we're still friends but that she needs some time - which is perfectly okay, I mean, I'm not about to force things like a dickweed or something, but..." A long, frustrated sigh left his lips.

Ted already felt like a complete jackass for feeling this way about his friends, and even more so for complaining about them in the open like this. Friends weren't supposed to talk smack about each other behind their backs. He looked at you from beneath his long, dark lashes, almost like he was seeking your approval. He'd always had a nasty habit of second guessing himself - undoubtedly put there by his asshole of a father - but this was uncharted territory for him and he felt like a fish out of water.

Sensing his need for guidance, you tilted your head and offered him a sympathetic smile. "You miss your friends." You finished for him.

He nodded slowly, the tension in his shoulders he didn't even realise was there beginning to ease. "Yeah, exactly." He looked up at you properly, meeting your gaze. "It's why I'm most grateful for you offering to hang out so often since Elizabeth and I split. It's been a totally lonely time, but seeing you has made it a bit easier."

Your chest tightened and your heart stuttered. Of course you'd wanted to be there for Ted as he dealt with his first breakup, but you couldn't deny that there were selfish motivations lurking beneath your good intentions. Guilt mingled with the fluttering of your heart.

"I'm always gonna be there for you during your hours of need, dude." You smiled.

Ted watched as you puffed from the joint again and blew out the thick cloud through your plush lips. The smoke rising from the glowing cherry swirled as it hung in the air, twisting around you lazily like a living thing, high off its own fumes and glowing in the light of the sunset. His chocolate brown gaze dropped to the KISS logo plastered over the chest of the t-shirt you wore - his t-shirt that you'd stolen some time ago now.

Elizabeth always told him it was strange that he let you wear his clothes sometimes, but he never thought anything of it. It was only now, however, that he noticed just how much he liked it when you did.

Is that weird? Ted thought to himself. Since when did she get so...bodacious?

He'd always thought you were pretty, but there was something different about you that he'd started to notice. Ted found his gaze lingering on you longer than it should, sometimes on places he definitely shouldn't be looking at. Especially now with the light of the sunset setting the colour of your hair ablaze, his t-shit hanging comfortably on your body, and your summer short-shorts clinging to your upper thighs.

His eyes dropped a little lower as the comfortable silence you found yourself in stretched on a bit longer. He noticed the way the flesh of your thighs spread out on the countertop, the bare skin below your shorts sticking to the marble in the summer heat. Ted swallowed thickly before looking you in the eye once again.

You noticed the way his eyes trailed over your body but decided not to comment, despite the way your heart hammered in your chest. "Plus, I guess this makes band practice difficult. That's gotta be frustrating."

"Yes! God, yeah, it is most vexing." Ted looked at you like you'd just put everything he'd been feeling over the last few months into words. If he'd known how liberating it would be to vent his frustrations, he would've come to you to talk sooner. You always had a knack for finding the words to describe how he felt. "How is Wyld Stallyns gonna be the most triumphant rock band in history if we can't even practice?"

A giggle slipped past your lips, glad that he seemed to have perked up a little. Wyld Stallyns were terrible, but you'd supported them unconditionally no matter how bad they sounded. "Just give it more time, Ted. I promise you she'll come round and you guys will be able to practice and hang out again just like you used to. You're doing really well, just have a little more patience."

The idea of Elizabeth and Ted spending time together again didn't exactly fill you with glee, but you doubted they'd get back together - at least, not immediately. You hoped.

His eyes dropped to your thighs again as you passed the joint back to him, the tip of his tongue poking out to wet his lips. "There's...kinda something else that's been bugging me, but I don't know if I should..." Ted trailed off, a light pink hue rising to his cheeks.

"Go on," You urged, nodding at him to continue. If there was more weighing on him, you wanted to coax it out of him.

He avoided your gaze, eyes sliding off to the right. "Okay...y'know how Bill and I explained that the princesses are...chaste?" You nodded and hummed in understanding. "Well, it took me eighteen years to finally get a girlfriend. Now I'm twenty-three, single and there are things that most guys have done by now that I still haven't experienced." The embarrassment was evident on his face; he couldn't meet your gaze at all.

You simply blinked at him, processing his words. Then, the penny dropped. "You're a virgin?" Your mouth was blurting the words before you could stop them.

Ted's cheeks flushed crimson and he let out a frustrated groan. Although he completely respected Elizabeth's boundaries and was more than happy to have waited until marriage to finally experience the intimacy he craved, he couldn't deny that it had been a ball-ache - metaphorically and in some cases, physically. Bill had cracked a joke about their right hands being their second girlfriends; at the time Ted had found it funny, but now it just depressed and frustrated the hell out of him.

"No-!" He raised his voice slightly in defense, almost offended by the 'V' word. He shook his head. "-I mean yes? I mean-" The hand that wasn't holding the spliff reached up to drag his palm over his face as he visibly deflated. "It just sucks, dude. I feel super lame." He let out another long sigh, defeated.

Ted brought the joint to his lips, taking one final, long drag before stubbing it out in one of the nearby dirty mugs in the sink. He looked back down at his shoes again, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his shorts.

"Teddy, hey," The nickname caught his attention, but he didn't have the courage to meet your gaze just yet. You unstuck your thighs from the kitchen counter and hopped down, stepping forward to close the distance between the two of you. When he still refused to acknowledge you, you brought your hands up to rest on the sides of his exposed biceps and squeezed gently. "Teddy, look at me."

He hesitated for a moment before lifting his head to look at you and your sweet smile.

"You're not lame. Like, at all." You reassured him, your thumbs rubbing slow, comforting circles on his skin. "In fact, I think it's totally chivalrous of you to have waited for Elizabeth."

Ted tilted his head to the side like a confused puppy. "...You think so?"

Cute. You thought.

"Of course!" You smiled brightly at him, having to tilt your head up to look him in the eye. "Not many guys would do that. Most would just get bored and dump their girlfriend after a few weeks so they could go and get some."

His face soured at the notion. "Heinous."

You giggled and his expression immediately brightened as the sweet sound filled the kitchen, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he dipped his head down and chuckled. That was one thing he always liked about you - your laugh. Especially when he was the reason for it.

You retracted your hands from his arms and he mourned the loss of contact, his skin tingling where your thumbs had been circling.

"Besides, there's nothing bad about it. Everyone experiences things at different paces. Like, you smoked weed before I did." Your words had a small grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. "Do what you wanna do at your own pace and don't care about what anyone else thinks. Just because you haven't had sex yet doesn't make you any less of a catch."

He lifted his head to look at you again. "Thanks, babe. I really do appreciate it."

The bright expression on his face was the sign you needed to know you'd made him feel better, at least for the time being. The two of you stood there for a few moments, dissolving into stoned giggling. Ted's cheeks were flushed and his eyes shimmered with mirth, the sight being enough to make you swoon internally.

With the orange glow behind him, Ted looked like a dream. A dream you wanted to be a part of.

Hold on a moment. Did Ted call you babe?

An idea popped into your baked mind, head still hazy from the joint you'd just smoked. You weren't really sure if it was a good idea, but you figured if it all blew up in your face you could just blame it on the weed. The last thing you wanted to do was ruin the friendship you had with Ted, especially since his others were currently rocky, but you were high and you wanted him.

"Hey..." You started, your heartbeat picking up the pace. "...If you're still worried about that kind of stuff, I could help out."

Ted's giggles died down and he cocked his head at you in confusion once again. "Huh? What d'you mean?"

Of course he had to pick now to be dense. "Well, y'know..." You tilted you head forward and looked up at him from beneath your lashes, hoping he'd get the message.

His brows raised in recognition and he formed an 'o' with his lips before breaking out into a grin. "Ooohh, you wanna be my wingman?"

You scrunched your face up. "What? No."

"Then whaddya mean?"

"You know what I mean!"

"Babe, I have no idea what you're saying."

"Do you wanna have sex with me?"

The smoke still swirling between you seemed to freeze in place, your words hanging heavy between the two of you. You could feel how hot your cheeks were and you could hear your pulse thumping in your ears, but you were determined to hold his startled gaze.

Ted simply blinked at you, completely dumbstruck, the gears in his head whirring as he tried to process what you'd just said. He was struggling to comprehend if he had actually heard you correctly or not.

You worried your bottom lip between your teeth, chewing on the soft flesh nervously and your eyes were trained on his every movement like a hawk. His silence didn't comfort you and although it only lasted for a few moments, to you it felt like an age before he finally responded.

"I...uh...huh?"

Anxiety simmered in your stomach, threatening to bubble over into frustration. You were already embarrassed enough as is and Ted's utter confusion didn't help your hammering heart.

You breathed in slowly, trying to calm your nerves. "Do you wanna hook up?" A small, shy smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "With me?"

Ted's heart thumped rapidly beneath his tank top and your eyes followed his Adam's apple as it bobbed up and down. His hands trembled slightly within his pockets - equal parts nerves and desire. Ted was usually one to articulate himself using large, goofy hand gestures, but right now he was glad his hands were tucked away so you couldn't see how much his hands shook.

"Are you - are you serious?" He asked, his deep voice cracking adorably.

A few strands of hair fell into your face as you nodded, your fingers fiddling with the hem of your t-shirt. "Y-Yeah. I mean, we're both high, we're friends-" You swallowed thickly and wet your lips with the tip of your tongue. Ted's eyes followed the movement and you took a small step forward, "-You're cute...plus, it'll mean you'll have one less thing to worry about, right?"

His eyes flicked up to your eyes, down to your lips, then back to meet your gaze again. It didn't go unnoticed.

One of Ted's hands retracted from his pocket to reach out and gently brush away those fallen strands of hair from your face, tucking them behind your ear. You were sure then, if it could've done, your heart would've leapt right out of your chest and into his hand. Your breath hitched and your smile turned from shy to hopeful.

"I...yeah, I guess that makes sense." Heat rose to Ted's cheeks and his smile matched your own before faltering slightly. "But, won't it make things, like, totally weird between us?"

You shook your head. "Nah. I promise we'll still be friends afterwards." Lifting a hand, you wiggled your pinkie finger in front of him. "Pinkie Swear."

With a small, amused huff, Ted linked his little finger with yours and held it for a few beats before pulling you towards him using your pinkie. The hand that had remained inside his pocket moved to rest on the curve of your hip, his thumb rubbing your soft skin over the material of your top. Your own free hand came to tentatively rest on his chest.

Now that your hips were almost flush against his, and thanks to his loose-fitting shorts, you could feel his length pressed against your thigh. He was already a bit hard.

"Is that a yes?" Your voice was breathless as you asked, not expecting the sudden surge in confidence after his initial confusion and bashfulness.

Ted's voice was low and husky when he responded, his tone immediately causing heat to pool between your legs. He leaned in, plush pink lips only an inch away from yours.

"Hell yes."

Finally, Ted's lips captured yours in a kiss that, for you at least, felt like a long time coming. The nervous simmering in your tummy exploded in the form of happy fireworks as his lips moved slow and tender over your own, giddiness and lust threatening to take you over.

This was Ted's first time so you were determined to keep your own desires in check - to go at his pace.

His pinkie finger released yours in favour of snaking his hand around your neck to cradle the back of your head as he towered over you, lips still connected to yours. Your own hand lingered in place for a second before joining the other on his broad chest, savoring the feeling of his excited heartbeat against your palms.

You pulled away from each other for a moment to catch your breath. Ted's pupils were blown wide with desire, his deep brown eyes looking like inky black pools. Combined with the crimson hue blooming across his cheeks, your best friend looked absolutely delicious.

Neither you nor Ted could believe this was actually happening.

"Whoa..." A big, toothy grin spread across his freshly kissed lips.

You didn't even get a chance to respond before Ted's mouth descended upon yours again, this time with a little more urgency. The hand that gripped your hip circled around your waist to hold you tightly against him while his other threaded his fingers through your hair. You practically melted into him, raising onto the balls of your feet to wrap your arms around his neck and push him back against the counter behind him.

The ache between your legs urged you on. You traced your tongue along Ted's bottom lip, desperate for more. He was more than happy to oblige, parting his lips for you and letting out a soft groan as your tongue slid against his.

You were sure that that little sound was enough to send you to heaven. Or at the very least, would be living in your head rent free for the next...well, forever.

The inside of your mouth tasted like weed, smoke and the chocolate you'd snacked on earlier when the munchies hit, and Ted briefly wondered if there was any part of you in that moment that he didn't find completely intoxicating. Every kiss, every touch, every swipe of your tongue had his cock throbbing inside his shorts, straining against the fabric and aching for attention.

Without even realising it, Ted began grinding his rigid length against your thigh, pulling a little gasp from your lips. The friction paired with your tongue in his mouth was almost enough to make his toes curl in his sneakers.

Ted could count on one hand the number of girls he'd kissed, but this was by far the best kiss he'd ever had.

Why hadn't he done this with you sooner?

Sensing his need, you slid the palms of your hands down his torso to the waistband of his boxers. His breath hitched in his throat and his dick twitched with anticipation as you smiled against his plush lips, your fingers dipping just below the elastic to toy with the waistband.

"Can I touch you?" You breathed against his mouth, desperate to feel the size of him in your hands, in your mouth, and buried deep inside you.

Ted's eyes fluttered open and he nodded, letting out a shaky breath. "Y-Yeah."

In one swift motion you pushed down his boxers and shorts, letting them pool around his ankles as you sunk down to your knees. His cock sprung free, long with a thick vein running up the underside and a lovely pink head, a bead of precum already forming at the tip.

He was absolutely gorgeous. If you weren't wet before, you were surely soaking through your panties by now.

You reached your hands up to run your fingers down his flat stomach, trailing them over his cute snail trail and through the dark thatch of curls sitting above where you wanted to be most. He watched you the whole time through heavily-lidded eyes, his bottom lip caught between his pearly white teeth.

The sight of you on your knees before him was the hottest thing he'd ever seen and you hadn't even touched him yet.

Ted's whole body jolted as you wrapped a hand around his shaft, your other hand resting on his thigh. You gave his cock a few slow, long strokes, looking up and drinking in the sight of him as he gripped onto the edge of the kitchen counter and gazed down at the most excellent view of you with his dick in your hand.

The whimpers that escaped him were all the encouragement you needed. Without warning you leaned in to lick a hot, wet stripe up the underside of his shaft and press a kiss to his wet tip. Ted practically keeled over, inhaling sharply.

"You okay?" You asked, concern swimming with the lust in your eyes as you pulled back a little.

Ted nodded, the corners of his lips quirking upwards in a small, sheepish smile. "Y-Yeah, I'm good. Just wasn't, uh, expecting that."

You squeezed his thighs affectionately. "Want me to carry on?"

"God yes."

Having the go-ahead, you leaned in again and took the head of his throbbing cock into your mouth.

"Oh fuck."

Ted managed to release the vice grip he had on the countertop to thread his fingers through the hair on the top of your pretty head as you began bobbing your head, the other hand still gripping onto the counter for dear life. You took a little more of him into your mouth with each motion, swirling your tongue around the swollen head when you pulled back.

"Fuck babe, that feels so good."

The salty taste of his precum on your tongue sent bolts of heat straight to your core, now hyper aware of the aching need between your legs. Unable to handle it anymore, your spread your thighs apart and slid one of your hands into your shorts to rub slow circles on your clit through the damp fabric of your panties.

It was taking all of Ted's willpower and restraint to not buck his hips forward into the warm, wet heat of your mouth. The sight of you touching yourself as you sucked his dick was almost too much for him to handle and he had to clap the hand that white-knuckled the counter over his mouth to muffle the loud moan that slipped out.

His moan was like music to your ears. You needed to hear more. Steeling yourself, you pulled your wet lips off his cock with a pop, inhaled deeply, and then took his entire length down your throat. You squeezed your eyes shut as the coarse curls of his dark pubes tickled your nose and you moaned around his girth as your fingers worked on your sensitive bud.

"Oh shit," Ted practically yelled, throwing his head back and letting out a long, low groan of pleasure. His fingers tightened in your hair and his toes curled in his shoes as he desperately fought against the urge to cum down your throat there and then.

He pulled on your hair, gentle enough to not hurt you, but hard enough to get you to drag your mouth from his dick.

"Fuck babe - I almost came." Ted panted, completely breathless as you gazed up at him, tears pricking at the corners of your glassy eyes and your lips were red, swollen and shiny with spit.

He unthreaded his fingers from your hair to help you up to your feet and immediately pull you in for another kiss, each press of his lips harder and hungrier than the last. His hands were quick to find your hips and you gasped against his mouth as he squeezed them tight and kicked his boxers and shorts from around his ankles.

Ted began pushing you backwards until your lower back hit the edge of the counter. His irises were completely engulfed by his inky black pupils and his large hands slid up underneath your t-shirt, savouring the feeling of your soft skin beneath his palms as they travelled up your waist to your ribs.

His burning desire was swallowing him whole and he was acting purely on impulse. Ted had been worried he'd fumble this with his lack of experience, but judging by the way you responded to his advances and touches, it seemed that just letting go was working in his favour.

Before you could say anything Ted's lips were on yours again, his kisses absolutely feverous and starting to make your head spin. Just as you pulled away to catch your breath, his hands cupped your breasts and squeezed gently. Your head lolled back and you pushed your chest forward into the sensation, seeking more attention. Ted was more than happy to oblige, kneading the soft flesh of your tits beneath your top with his large hands.

You twitched and let out a needy whine when one of Ted's thumbs grazed over your nipple, his mouth swallowing that sweet sound. He pulled his lips away from yours to repeat the motion again, this time circling both his thumbs over your hard, sensitive nubs. Wonder swam in his jet black eyes as he watched you arch your back into his touch and gasp, unconsciously canting your hips into his and gripping onto his broad shoulders.

Your fantasies could never have prepared you for the real thing. The pads of his fingertips were hard and rough from the hours upon hours he'd spent almost every day pouring over his beloved Gibson, and they felt heavenly on your soft skin as they trailed down from your breasts to your hips once again.

"Can I...?"

Ted's voice was hoarse as he mumbled against your lips, his fingers toying with the button of your denim shorts as he pulled back slightly to meet your heavy gaze. He knew he'd need guidance for what came next and he prayed to the gods of music (Oh great god of metal, Mr Osbourne, dude...please don't let me fuck this up!) that you would be willing to help him out without too much judgement.

If you were to laugh at him, he was sure he'd shrivel up and die on the spot.

You blinked up at him and smiled, giving him the go-ahead with a confident nod. Despite the way his hands trembled, Ted popped open the button on your shorts and shimmied them down over your hips and thighs, taking your panties with them.

Rather than letting you step out of the material, Ted lifted you up to place you back in the space on the kitchen counter you'd been sat in before. The bright, toothy grin on your face told him that that was definitely the right move. He had a feeling that all those evenings spent watching raunchy rom-coms with Bill, Joanna and Elizabeth were going to come in handy.

Ted paused, his shoulders tensing. Wait, no. He shouldn't be thinking about Elizabeth right now.

He was promptly pulled from his thoughts by your legs hooking around his hips and pulling him into the space between your parted thighs, your hands finding their way to his broad shoulders once again.

"You okay?" You asked, sensing his hesitation.

It was incredibly difficult to ignore the press of his erection against your inner thigh, but you wanted to make sure he was still okay with what was happening between you before you went any further.

He nodded, albeit stiffly, and the tips of his ears burned hot. "Y-Yeah, just...I, uh, might need some help with this part."

The sweet smile that you gave him had his heart doing flips within his ribcage. "That's cool," You said, your fingers twirling in the incredibly soft, dark hair at the base of his skull as your voice took on a lighter tone. "I happen to be intimately familiar with myself so I'm really gonna be the best teacher you'll get right now."

Your words drew an amused huff from Ted and the tension in his shoulders eased off. "Awesome. So, um, how do you like to be touched?"

It was such an innocent question but it made your pussy throb something fierce.

You took one of his hands into your own and brought his thumb to your lips. Ted's eyes zeroed in on your mouth and he inhaled sharply as you sucked on it. You coated the appendage with spit before guiding it down to your clit, his head dipping as he followed your movements.

"Here," You shuddered as his callused pad pressed against your little bundle of nerves. "Start with slow circles."

Ted did as he was told and began moving his thumb in slow, steady circles over your clit, mesmerized by the sight and sensation of your sensitive flesh beneath his touch. The soft sighs of satisfaction coming from you spurred him on and he picked up the pace. His other hand moved back underneath your top to gently pinch your nipple.

You gasped and spread your legs further, scooting to the edge of the counter and seeking more of that delicious friction.

"Want your fingers in me, Ted."

Uncertainty and lust swam in his eyes as they snapped back to yours, his cheeks flushed a wonderful shade of pink.

"Don't worry," You comforted. "I'll guide you."

Doing his best to steady the tremble in his hand, Ted dragged his middle finger over your slick folds to gently rub at your entrance. The corners of his plush lips quirked upwards - you were so wet. Not just wet, you were soaked.

"Whoa, babe. You're totally dripping wet right now." Ted grinned, flashing you with a bright, toothy smile filled with pride.

Giddiness bubbled in your chest, delight rushing throughout your body and you curled your toes. You matched his grin. "Duh; my hot best friend is about to fuck me. Of course I'm wet."

He blinked at you owlishly and his cock twitched against your inner thigh. "...You think I'm hot?"

You hesitated before nodding. "I...have done for a while-"

Your confession was cut off by a gasp as Ted slid his finger inside you without warning. The walls of your pussy instinctively squeezed his long digit as he slowly pumped it in and out of you experimentally, his eyes on your face the whole time to check for any signs of discomfort.

"That's it," You breathed. "Now add another finger."

Ted savoured your praise did as he was told, pulling his hand back to push both his middle and ring finger into you. You moaned softly this time and lifted your knees to give him better access and a better angle, the slight stretch filling you will a little more satisfaction.

You'd gotten so used to the feeling of your own touch you'd almost forgotten what it felt like with someone else. God, you missed this.

"Ah!" Pleasure shot through your nerves when his long digits brushed against that sweet spot deep inside you. "There, Teddy - curl your fingers right there."

He pushed his fingers into you to the knuckles and curled them as you said, his calloused fingertips rubbing against your g-spot and pulling more delightful sounds from your lips as he fingered you. Ted could feel the way your walls clenched around his digits and the wet sounds of your soaking cunt taking his fingers so easily had him so hard it almost hurt.

Judging by your reactions he was pretty damn sure he was making you feel good, but he wanted to hear you say it - no, he needed you to tell him.

"Is that good?"

The doe-eyed look on his face paired with his fingers working you like magic was enough to make you whimper. He may not have been able to play the guitar that well, but he was playing your pussy well enough to have you singing.

"Y-Yes," You nodded as your thighs began to tremble. "Feels so fuckin' good, Teddy."

Ted couldn't hold on any longer. Retracting his slick digits from you, he dipped down to press a quick, searing kiss to your lips and then rest his forehead against yours.

"Babe, I gotta fuck you now."

"Please," You panted, hooking your legs around his hips once more as he reached down to line himself up with your entrance.

Ted looked into your eyes as if waiting for permission to go past the point of no return. You nodded in confirmation, your bottom lip caught between your teeth as your whole body buzzed with anticipation.

Slowly, Ted pushed his throbbing length inside you, inching in bit by bit as the wet walls of your pussy accommodated his size. Your fingernails left little crescent moon marks on his smooth skin as you gripped onto his broad shoulders, closing your eyes and doing your best to relax as he inched further in.

The low, loud grown from Ted made the sensation of his cock stretching you out all the sweeter. Your hot breaths mingled as Ted bottomed out, his hips flush against the soft skin of your inner thighs and his hands moved to rest on your hips.

The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, holding each other and unmoving. You expected Ted to begin thrusting not long after pushing all the way in, but he was as still as a statue for long enough that it had you concerned.

"Teddy?" You opened your eyes to look at him. "You good?"

There was clear concentration on his flushed face, mixed with something akin to frustration. His dark brows were furrowed with a deep crease etched between them and his ears burned hot with embarrassment.

"Ted? Are-"

"I'll bust if I move." He blurted, voice cracking.

You had to bite back against a laugh, thoroughly amused by his choice of words. How was it possible for Ted to still be adorable during a moment like this?

Ted inhaled deeply, trying to steady the rapid thumping of his heart. "Just - just gimme a sec."

It was incredibly hard to not think about the fact that he was balls deep inside you. The thought alone was enough to have Ted teetering on the edge. Your pussy was warm and wet and tight and unlike anything he'd felt around his dick before. Quite frankly he was amazed he'd even lasted this long.

After what felt like an age, Ted let out a shuddering breath and pulled his hips back slowly before pushing into you again. You sighed, relief and pleasure flowing through your veins as he finally gave you that much needed friction your body craved so desperately.

His large hands gripped your hips tight as he thrusted in and out of you, keeping the pace slow and steady - mostly for his own sake - while his confidence gradually increased with each little pleasured sound that fell from your lips.

"Fuuuuck Ted, that's it," You praised him as he picked up the pace, the two of you becoming lost in your combined pleasure. "That's it, you're fucking me so good - Ah!"

Ted's hips suddenly snapped forwards, slamming the full length of his cock into you and filling your cunt to the brim. Your wet walls throbbed around him as the head hit that wonderful little spot inside you and your fingers gripped at the soft hair on the back of his head.

"Shit, sorry-"

Your mouth swallowed his apology in a hot, open mouthed kiss. Ted was quick to reciprocate, groaning as you nipped and sucked on his bottom lip.

"Do that again."

That was all he needed to hear. The lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin bounced off the kitchen walls as Ted pumped his dick in and out of you, the sensitive skin glistening with your slick arousal. He did his best to angle his thrusts so that he was hitting that spot that had you clawing at his back and moaning his name, desperately wanting to make you feel good as he chased his own release.

"God babe - ngh - pussy's so fuckin' tight," One of his hands relinquished the vice grip it had on your hip to slide back under your t-shirt and grab your breast and squeeze. "Feels too good, fuckin' excellent, m'gonna - mmnh - gonna cum soon."

You reached a hand down between your spread legs to rub your swollen clit, aching for attention as that familiar heat began to coil in your abdomen, tighter and tighter as you neared your peak.

"Me too Ted, m'so close - so fucking close-"

The coil inside you snapped.

"Teddy!"

Your body shook and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your orgasm hit you, pleasure coursing through your veins in heavy waves. Ted's thrusts became sloppy while he fucked you through your climax, the feeling of your pussy clenching around him as you came on his cock being too much for him to handle.

"Shit babe, gonna cum-"

With a low, loud groan, Ted pulled out of you and gripped his throbbing length. After a few quick pumps of his fist, he spilled his cum over your skin, coating the soft swell of your lower tummy and the hem of your top in pearly white ropes.

The two of you stayed silent as you caught your breath, chests heaving. You let your legs drop and Ted placed his large hands on your thighs, steadying himself as his own legs threatened to give out from under him as he came down from his high.

Nervous bubbles began to simmer in your stomach as you watched Ted through lidded eyes. How would Ted feel about you now? Would this change things between you? And most importantly: Would he regret it?

Just as you opened your mouth to speak, a small smile tugged at the corners of Ted's kiss-swollen lips.

"Now that," He met your gaze. "was most excellent."

A bright smile broke out across your face and your heart did flips, giddiness shooting right down to the tips of your toes. "Agreed. You feel a bit better now?"

You watched Ted closely as he took a step back and bent down to shimmy his boxers and basketball shorts back up his long legs, before retrieving your own shorts and panties from the kitchen tiles and holding them out to you with a smile that shone with earnestness.

"Definitely."

[imagines--galore]

||The Thread of Fate|| Part Twenty-Three

Summary: Soulmate AU. They say the Thread of Fate connects you to your one true love. It may tangle. It may stretch. But it will never break. Wrapped around your little finger it tightens when it feels your soulmate is close and loosens when they are far. And becomes visible with the colors of your soulmate’s Nation when you finally fall in love with them.

Pairing: Zuko x OroraOC (ATLA)

Rating || Genres || Warnings: T+ Romance. Adventure.

Previous Chapters - Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen, Part Fifteen, Part Sixteen, Part Seventeen, Part Eighteen, Part Nineteen, Part Twenty, Part Twenty-One, Part Twenty-Two,

A/N: Alright so this chapter covers three episodes. The FireLord and the Avatar, the Runaway and the Puppetmaster!

The gentle knock on his door alerted Iroh. He sat up from where he had been laying on the floor trying to sleep. The heavy metal door opened to reveal a Fire Nation soldier who quickly approached him.

"Ah Ming! I was getting worried." Iroh stated with a pleasant smile, as if he were greeting her for tea, and not from behind bars. The young woman, gave him a brief smile before her expression turned serious.

"The rounds have just changed, so we don't have much time." Ming whispered, glancing over her shoulder at the closed door, as she quickly pulled out a scroll, a bottle of ink and a writing brush. She held them out towards Iroh through the bars, who took them quickly and once she had produced a small flame to provide some light, he wrote down his message.

Once done, he blew on it so that the ink would dry quickly. "I thank you for your help, my dear. It is nice to see our children carry out our mission." Iroh said, smiling at the young guard who returned the gesture with a respectful bow of her head. "My father and I are honored to be of service to such a high ranking official of the Order of the White Lotus."

The ink dried, and once he had added in the secret message that could only be revealed by flame, he rolled it up and held it out for Ming to take. "Will you be able to deliver it to my nephew?" He asked, worry gnawing at his heart as he thought of the lost young boy. Ming nodded confidentially. "My brother will be on rounds near the Prince's rooms tomorrow night. He knows of our secret work and shall ensure this reaches him."

Relief passed through him as he nodded. With a final respectful bow, the young soldier was gone, leaving Iroh to mull over what he had done.

This was his final attempt to try and help his nephew. Perhaps, he should have taken this route long ago, but he had not want to burden Zuko.

But it did not matter now. If a heavy burden meant Zuko would choose the right path, then he would have to learn to carry it.

Iroh just hoped Orora would be there to help him shoulder that burden when the time came.

                                          ————————–

Orora glanced over where Aang was mumbling in his sleep. She smiled as he rolled over before settling once more.

Where once the nights she'd stare into the fire would be a rather depressing past time, now it brought her a sense of calm. Especially since she spent the entire day trying to make sure no one tried to do seriously hurt or maim anyone.

It was a mystery how Toph hadn't crushed anyone under a rock, or Aang hadn't blasted anyone into the sky, or Katara hadn't frozen anyone, or Sokka hadn't hit anyone over the head with his boomerang with how much they all bickered. Granted it wasn't anything malicious, but when tempers were high, especially with teenagers, anything could happen.

She was the designated peacemaker within the group, a title she shared with Aang. Though while Aang used words of wisdom to calm the situation, which weren't exactly received well by the audience most of the time, Orora preferred to have them speak their mind, and try to come up with a solution that would benefit both parties.

A tantrum didn't last more then a few hours. If it was really bad, it would last a day or so, but that was the extent of it.

Still, she smiled to herself as she looked around at the sleeping figures, it was nice to have a role in the little group. It was kind of the same role she had played while traveling with Zuko and Iroh, though back then it had been exclusively for Zuko and whatever inner turmoil he faced.

Did he face any of that inner turmoil now? She mused to herself as she stared into the fire, taking comfort in the gentle warmth of it. Probably not, since he had the life he'd always wanted. Did he ever think about her? Did he ever think what had happened to her after his betrayal?

She highly doubted it, she sighed, rising to her feet and walking to where her bed roll was. Burying herself under the covers, her mind still swimming with thoughts of her Soulmate, missing the way her string briefly shone red.

Her eyes slowly slid closed.

                                          ————————–

His eyes snapped open.

Zuko's ears perked at the sound of footsteps just outside his door. Throwing off his blanket he rushed to the hall to investigate. He opened the door, only to be greeted by the sight of a cloaked figure disappearing around the corner. Zuko made to follow, only to stop when he caught sight of a scroll on the floor.

The curtains all along the hall blew gently in the breeze coming from the open windows as he held the scroll.

A hand closed over the fingers that held the scroll, prompting him to look up. Orora gave him a smile from where she stood across from him.

He blinked and she was gone, but her nod of encouragement was all he needed to break the seal and open the scroll to read his Uncle's message within.

                                          ————————–

Katara and Sokka were a little occupied in a squabble, which meant that Toph and Orora had to make themselves scarce so as not to be dragged into their sibling disagreement.

"The only downside of being on an island, is that you would never be able to really get away from people." Orora stated before she jumped from one hardened lava stream to another. Toph chuckled as she followed. "Yeah! I wander how did the couples who lived here take a break from one another?" She jested to which Orora grinned.

"Maybe the wife threw the husband in the volcano?" She suggested to which Toph grinned widely. "I love how your dark your mind can get. Its really refreshing." She stated in a joyful tone, to which Orora laughed. "Oh yeah? None of the others share their dark thoughts with you?" She asked, to which Toph shook her head.

"Nope! Katara and Aang are too nice to think dark thoughts." The earthbender stated, as she created a small bridge where the distance between the frozen lava rivers was a bit too big. "And Sokka is well, Sokka."

The older girl let out a bark of laughter. "No arguments there. But I guess when you've lived in isolation like the two of us have nearly our whole lives." She nudged Toph playfully. "Thinking dark thoughts tends to be a good past time."

It was strange how much she had in common with a thirteen year old. While Orora had lived a life where she was forced to live in submission of her father and brothers, Toph had lived a life where she was coddled and treated as an invalid, just because she was blind.

The context did not matter.

What mattered was that they had each led lives where they felt like they were alone in the world.

"Whats the darkest thought you have ever had?" Orora asked Toph, to which the girl shrugged. "What my life would've been like if I didn't have my bending." The girl revealed to which Orora came to a sudden halt. "My life would be even darker then it already is." Toph continued as she kicked her foot out, loose ash forming a small cloud around her as she did.

Reaching out, Orora took her head and smiled down at her, even if she couldn't see it. "Well, the Spirits blessed you with earthbending, so lets leave it at that."

Toph smiled back, the cloud that had suddenly loomed over her dissipating, as she squeezed Orora's hand. "What about you? Whats your darkest thought?"

The older girl pursed her lips, her gaze trained towards the wide open ocean as it stretched out in front of them. "That I will die alone."

Silence followed her confession, one that was finally broken by Toph. "Woah, that's even darker then mine." She said in a tone that was half-joking and yet somehow serious and worried as well. "Why do you think that?" She asked, curious to know what went on in the older girl's mind.

Orora sighed, running a hand down her face. "I don't know. I guess because now that Zuko has betrayed me, I know there is no chance of my being with him." It still hurt saying it, but she continued. "And yeah, I could find someone else, but would I be able to have what I did with Zuko?"

So saying she slumped to sit down on the ash covered ground. Toph stayed where she was, her forehead creased in a frown as she thought over what Orora had just revealed.

"I don't know Zuko as well as you or the other three do." She finally spoke, to which Orora hummed in agreement. She felt Toph shift where she stood, taking a few steps forward to stand next to her.

"But I've heard how powerful a bond can be between two Soulmates. I mean it was so powerful between Oma and Shu that they were able to learn earthbending, just so they could be together." Orora turned her head so she could look at Toph. "I mean sure, he died, but when they were alive, they always found their way back to each other, no matter how much the war forced them to stay apart."

The waterbender frowned. "What're you getting at Toph?" She asked, her curiosity peaking as Toph smiled in her direction. "I'm saying, what if Zuko finds his way back to you, just like Oma and Shu did?"

Stunned silence followed her words. Orora couldn't help but blink at Toph in surprise who was looking at her in a strangely hopeful manner. A flicker of.....something sparked in her heart, but she pushed it aside.

"I don't know Toph." She finally said with a shrug. "I doubt fate will be that kind to us." A sudden punch to her shoulder had the older girl frowning and rubbing the sore spot. Toph, who still held up her clenched fist, glared at her. "If a blind girl can find her soulmate during an all out war, then a girl who's soulmate left her once, can come back to her again."

Orora stood. "How can you be so sure?" She snapped, not wanting to get angry, but frustration did simmer just under her skin at the moment. The younger girl suddenly sobered and dropped her hand. "You've said so yourself that no matter what he did, his heart was always in the right place right?" She asked, to which Orora gave a small shrug. "I suppose so." She muttered.

Reaching out, Toph laid a hand on Orora's chest, right where her heart was. "So if his heart is with you, and you're in the right place, he'll come back to you. Its as simple as that."

Orora stared at Toph, her mouth open in shock and her ice blue eyes wide. The shorter girl shook her head. "Honestly, its amazing how people who have eyes can't even see whats so obvious. I guess its a good thing I'm blind."

So saying, the girl walked off, leaving behind a still stunned Orora who was decidedly ignoring the way her string was flickering red.

                                          ————————–

Zuko's mind was racing.

He knew his Uncle was the one to send him the scroll. But why? He hadn't gained any new information from what he had read. Other then the fact that his great-grandfather had been friends with Aang's predecessor. It was strange how two people who had been the best of friends, could turn against one another.

Or rather, Sozin had turned his back on Roku.

That part was what haunted him the most?.

Was it something that ran in the family? Betraying the people you called friends. He had done the same to Orora what Sozin had done to Roku.

Was that the point his Uncle had been trying to make?

No! He had said he needed to know about the death of his great-grandfather, yet Sozin had been alive in the end. His death had revealed nothing.

Frustration clawed at him from the inside as he marched into the prison tower and towards his Uncle's cell.

He just hoped the man would speak to him.

Slamming the door behind him as he entered, he held out the scroll that had the message on it. "You sent this, didn't you? I found the secret history, which by the way should be renamed history most people already know!" He yelled, allowing his frustration to seep into his words. "The note said that I needed to know about my great-grandfather's death, but he was still alive in the end."

Iroh looked up at Zuko, and for a moment he thought he wouldn't speak.

"No. He wasn't." Though the relief at hearing his Uncle finally speak to him warmed his heart, he pushed it aside in favor of the confusion that clouded his mind.

"What are you talking about?" He asked, as Iroh finally met his eye, and for once Zuko didn't feel the shame and guilt that burdened him since Ba Sing Se.

"You have more than one great-grandfather, Prince Zuko." Iroh revealed. "Sozin was your father's grandfather." He paused, preparing Zuko before he revealed the truth and reason behind all the conflict he felt all the time.

And really the next few words changed Zuko's outlook on life forever.

"Your mother's grandfather was Avatar Roku."

Shock raced through his veins, prompting him to drop the scroll he had been holding. His eyes widened, and his heart beat wildly against his chest. His knees felt weak, and yet it was a testament that he did not immediately drop down to the floor.

"Why are you telling me this?" He whispered hoarsely, his mind exploding with questions, each one burning at the tip of his tongue and yet he could voice none of them.

"Because understanding the struggle between your two great-grandfathers can help you better understand the battle within yourself." Finally, his legs gave way. Zuko dropped to the floor, his head hanging as every moment of confusion and conflict he had ever experienced his entire life rose to the forefront of his mind.

Everything.

Everything he had done, every decision he had ever made and everything that happened to him. It all came back to his family.

His father had banished him after burning him, making him the bitter person he had been for nearly three years.

His mother had left him, influencing him into accepting that he could never trust anyone with his heart.

His sister always lied, pushing him into believing that no one would help him and that he had to help himself.

And now, his great-grandfathers.

Sozin's ideas about sharing the wealth and prosperity of the Fire Nation with the rest of the world had blinded him to all the horrible atrocities the Fire Nation had committed over the past Hundred Years.

Roku's hesitancy on taking out his former best friend was what had led to the war in the first place. If he had thought of the world, rather then the relationship he had had with Sozin, maybe the war would never have started in the first place.

"Evil and good are always at war inside you, Zuko." His Uncle continued to speak, his words echoing against the cold stone walls of the prison. "It is your nature, your legacy."

Was this it?

Was he meant to feel utter anguish and turmoil for the rest of his life? Was he to know the difference between right and wrong but never be able to act upon it?

He had acted upon it once before, and had suffered the consequences.

Not because he was the Prince of the Fire Nation.

But because he was the son of Ozai.

"But, there is a bright side." His Uncle's voice prompted him to look back up, scarcely allowing an ember of hope to burn in his chest.

"What happened generations ago can be resolved now, by you." Iroh stated, his voice firm and stern. The time for gentleness was long past. It was time to show his nephew the utter reality and truth of the situation if he were to do something good for the world and save himself.

"Because of your legacy, you alone can cleanse the sins of our family and the Fire Nation. Born in you, along with all the strife, is the power to restore balance to the world." Iroh was aware how Avatar Aang was meant to do just that, but he had known, long ago, that the young airbender would not be able to do all of that alone. He had to see to the entire world, not just one Nation.

Restoring the honor of the Fire Nation would be up to Zuko and no one else.

He stood, moving to the wall at his side. Iroh pulled out a loose brick and reached for the object within that was wrapped in a frayed, dirty cloth. He removed it to reveal a headdress as he walked towards Zuko and held it out for him.

"This is a royal artifact. It is supposed to be worn by the Crown Prince." Zuko stood in awe of the artifact thought to be lost long ago. The headdress gleamed in the moonlight. "Sozin gave it to Roku as a token of their friendship long ago, but it became tainted, when Sozin betrayed Roku."

Zuko blinked, before closing his eyes and reaching into the pocket of his shirt and pulling out the comb he always carried with him these days to feel her close. Iroh's eyes widened at the sight of the familiar comb.

"I suppose these two share a history of betrayal don't they?" His nephew said, his voice hoarse and heavy with emotion as the two hairpieces were held aloft side by side.

Iroh's heart softened, and he knew Zuko regretted the decision he had made in Ba Sing Se. Perhaps, because of the bond he shared with Orora, it would push him to make the right decision. Placing the crown atop the comb, and closing Zuko's fingers around it, Iroh gave him a look of understanding.

"Then, it is up to you to make it right."

The small room glowed with a sudden blue hue that had been dim for most of the time. However, in that moment it glowed so brightly that if anyone else other then Zuko saw, they would believe the Moon Spirit herself had descended upon them.

However, it was only the string that connected him with his soulmate.

Glowing bright and blue as he finally, finally, realized the true extent of his feelings for Orora.

                                          ————————–

"You mean, after all Roku and Sozin went through together, even after Roku showed him mercy, Sozin betrayed him like that‌?" Katara's astonished voice cut the tense atmosphere once Aang had revealed what Roku had shown him.

Orora stood to the side, frowning. "All those years of friendship." She said in a low voice. "He just threw it away because he wanted to realize his own ambitions." Why did that sound so familiar? And yet, this was not the time to think about him, the young waterbender scolded herself, focusing instead on what Toph was saying.

"It's like some people are born bad." She said, sounding confused and sad at the same time. Aang stepped up, shaking his head as he did. "No, that's wrong." He insisted, walking so he could stand with his back to them to look out at the ocean. "I don't think that was the point of what Roku showed me at all." His voice sounded so hopeful and optimistic.

Sokka shrugged, ever the pessimist of the group cut in. "Then what was the point?" He asked, to which Aang turned back to look at them. He smiled at each one of them in turn before speaking.

"Roku was just as much Fire Nation as Sozin was, right? If anything, their story proves anyone's capable of great good and great evil." His grey eyes landed on Orora at that part, and she felt herself stand up straight, knowing he was thinking of Zuko the same way she was. She chewed on her lower lip, slowly looking away from Aang, who continued with a small smile of understanding.

"Everyone, even the Fire Lord and the Fire Nation have to be treated like they're worth giving a chance." Aang concluded with that ever-present hopeful note in his voice.

"And I also think it was about friendships." He added with a grin. That last part did warm Orora's heart a little bit, prompting her to smile at Katara when the other girl looked at her.

"Do you really think," Toph began, sounding unsure and hesitant as she did. "Friendships can last more than one lifetime?" She asked, and Orora had to stop herself from reaching out and hugging the younger girl.

Aang reached out to take Toph's hand. "I don't see why not." He said as Katara took Toph's other hand as well. Reaching out, Orora placed a gentle hand on Toph's shoulder. "Friends are the family we choose for ourselves Toph." She said before she moved to take Aang's free hand as he held it out for her with a smile. "And I don't know about you, but I don't plan on letting go of any of you in this life or any other."

Aang, Katara and Toph both smiled at her. Sokka, however, had something else to add.

"Well, scientifically speaking, there's no way to prove that-" He began, only to have his sister shoot him an annoyed look. "Oh, Sokka, just hold hands." She said, holding her hand out towards him. Without missing a beat, his hand grasped hers.

Orora gave a soft laugh as Aang turned towards her to wink playfully. And as they stood there, greeting the new day with a more hopeful outlook on everything, Orora closed her eyes and inhaled.

Maybe it was her imagination, but she thought she could feel someone taking her other hand.

One that she was all too familiar with.

Considering she had held that hand many many times during her time with him.

For a moment her string glowed a warm red hue.

                                          ————————–

"People are starting to talk."

Zuko looked up from where he had been going over some new firebending forms he was mastering. Mai stood leaning against the doorway, a half smile playing about her lips.

"About what?" He asked, as she walked into the room, coming to sit opposite him. "That we're dating. Something about going out and walking into the same flower shop twice."

Zuko rolled his eyes. "Its just people gossiping nothing more. And its keeping Azula off both our backs, so I welcome it." He added, recalling how delighted his sister had seemed to be when she had spoken to him about it earlier that day. Mai hummed in agreement.

"True, my parents have also backed off." She pulled out a small knife from her sleeve, flicking it in the air and expertly catching it by the handle. "They were starting to look for marriage proposals for me, so dating you seems to be benefiting me as well."

Zuko followed her movement, his mind conjuring a sharp icicle rather then a knife as it twirled in the air. He had seen Orora do that very same move multiple times. Sometimes to practice, but most times out of sheer boredom.

"Have you been meeting with Kei Lo?" He asked, not wanting his thoughts to wander to Orora. Mostly because even the mere thought of her had his string glowing.

Zuko had met Mai's soulmate the first time he had gone to the flower shop. She had introduced him and Zuko had to admit, the boy seemed perfect for Mai. She needed someone to bring out the more softer and fun side of her, and Kei Lo was the right person to do it. Even the mere mention of him had a smile playing across Mai's lips as she nodded. "Yes, I met him just yesterday. My mother is starting to think I have taken an interest in flower arrangements, and my aunt is happy to keep my secret." She admitted.

Zuko smiled back, reaching out to gently pat her hand. "I'm glad you found him Mai." He said, his voice genuine. The girl nodded.

"What about you? Are you still seeing Orora?" The moment she spoke her name, his string began to glow blue. He ignored it in favor of responding to her question.

"Yeah, sometimes, every now and then." He admitted. Her appearances, where they had been quite frequent before, were now sporadic, not to mention she barely spoke in any of them.

He would never admit it out loud, but it was starting to scare him a little, how she was barely there whenever he would think of her.

As if he were forgetting what she looked like.

"Maybe you should go and find her?" Her suggestion had him staring at her wide eyed and dumbfounded. Mai only lifted a shoulder in a shrug. "Obviously you miss her, so what harm could there be in going to look for her?" She made the suggestion so carelessly, as if she were commenting on the weather or something.

Zuko frowned. "I can't exactly go out and find her. For one I would need a legitimate reason to leave the Palace." He stood up, walking towards the window and looking out towards the setting sun. "Besides, I doubt she would want to see me after what I did to her." Behind him, Mai pursed her lips, nodding in agreement.

"True, but have you thought that maybe she misses you just as much as you miss her?" She stood, slowly coming to stand behind him, settling a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Trust me Zuko, it's never the right thing to run away or stay purposely away from your soulmate. It doesn't really work."

With that, she turned around and left Zuko to his thoughts.

It was strange. He had been so focused on how his betrayal had effected her, that it had never occurred to him that she would be missing him, just as much as he missed her.

Or perhaps more, he thought to himself, as his string glowed blue.

                                          ————————–

When she had left home, Orora had known she would have to leave several luxuries behind. One of them being shopping.

If there was one thing Orora loved more then anything it was shopping. In Ba Sing Se, she had always been the one to go out and buy whatever they needed. Iroh had been a little surprised at her enthusiasm, but he had not commented on it.

Traveling across the Fire Nation with Aang, Katara, Sokka and Toph meant that they rarely went shopping, if ever. What money they had, they needed for supplies, and many a time Orora had to walk away from a shiny trinket that would catch her eye. All because she didn't have money.

But now?

They had sacks of it.

Her, Sokka, Toph and Aang all but cackled as they exited the town, their arms laden with several purchases, as well as sacks of silver and gold. "Spirits! Why didn't we think of doing this earlier?" The older girl said, smiling from ear to ear as she eyed the meat they had been able to buy. They would be eating really good that night.

"Don't think of the Why Orora." Sokka said, happily carrying his share of shopping. "Think of the What," He trailed off as the other three looked at him, prompting him to continue. "As in, What are we going to spend all this money on?"

Another round of laughter followed his words as they finally reached their little camp, where they dumped their purchases in front of Katara who was cooking.

"Where did you guys get the money to buy all this stuff?" She asked, looking curiously into the baskets. Aang, grabbing an apple from one of the baskets, took a bit out of it and sat down. "Toph got us money." He said as a way of explanation. "She scammed one of those guys in town who moves the shells around all sneaky-like."

Orora grabbed an apple herself. "You should've seen the looks on their faces Katara. Hilarious." She praised as she passed by Sokka and gave him a high-five, before throwing the apple at Appa who caught it in his mouth with a happy groan.

Sokka nodded as he sat down. "She used earthbending to win the game! Classic!" He shot the bling girl a thumbs up, even as his sister adopted a disapproving look. "Ah, so she cheated."

Toph, who had been about to bite into her own apple, stopped. "Hey! I only cheated because he was cheating!" She grinned. "I cheated a cheater. What's wrong with that?"

Katara shook her head. "I'm just saying this isn't something we should make a habit of doing." She reprimanded as Orora dug into their purchase to grab something, only to extract Momo by the tail who had sneaked in when no one had been looking.

Toph scoffed. "Why?" As Orora took the many apples Momo had been trying to sneak off with, leaving the annoyed animal with just one. "Because it's fun? And you hate fun?"

The girl huffed. "I don't hate fun!" Catching Momo as he sulked away, she placed him on her head. "See? Fun!" An awkward silence followed as Momo slipped off her head, screeched at her before running away.

Aang, not wanting to see Katara worry about something so mediocre stood up and lifted his headband to reveal the tattoo below. "Katara." He spoke solemnly, bowing. "I'll personally make you an Avatar Promise that we won't make a habit of doing these scams."

Katara smiled in satisfaction before turning her attention to Orora. The older girl blinked back. "What?" Katara gave her a look, one that had Orora pursing her lips before finally letting out an exaggerated groan.

"Alright! Alright! I'll make sure they don't get too carried away." She promised halfheartedly before pulling out another apple and offering it to Katara as a peace offering.

Of course all their promises meant nothing to any of them.

The very next day, after a successful round of scamming, Orora was happily wandering the streets of the town to see what she could buy. Sokka, Toph and Aang were carrying out another scam, but Orora had wanted to shop.

Pocketing the winnings from the scam she had pulled with the younger girl, she walked around in search of a good clothing shop. With the Invasion drawing near, she wanted to make something for herself. She had no desire to defeat the Fire Nation wearing their colors.

Besides, she missed wearing blue.

Though her chances were slim, maybe she would be able to find something?

She passed through the center of the town, and the sight that greeted her, had her coming to an abrupt halt.

There in the middle of the town stood a tall statue of the current Fire Lord. Orora stood there, staring up at him. Pure hatred raged in her heart as she looked at the likeness. This was the man who had burned Zuko. Who had stood over a young boy, a boy trying to do good, and mercilessly burned half his face off.

"Hey Orora!" Aang's voice barely registered in her mind as she stood where she was. The young Avatar raced to her side, his own gaze lifting towards the all too daunting presence of the statue.

"Its strange to finally put a face to the name, isn't it?" Aang said as he stood beside her. Not breaking her stare, she spoke to him. 'How do you mean?"

Aang shrugged. "Well we've all heard about Fire Lord Ozai for months, and I had no idea what he looked like till I went to school." She nodded. "Yeah, but now we have someone to picture when we talk of him." A brief pause before Aang spoke again. "He was the one who gave Zuko the scar right?" She had told them briefly about how Zuko had gotten the scar, but hadn't gone into the details. His words prompted her to tense up, her hands clenching in fists at her sides as she gritted her teeth. Anger ran through her veins as she turned on her heel and began to walk away. Aang followed after her.

"Hey! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to upset you!" The worry in his tone was what prompted her to finally halt and turn to him with a reassuring look. "You didn't Aang. I'm just angry at him for what he did to Zuko." Her gaze flickered to her string. "Which is strange because why should I be angry about what happened to him after what he did to me?" Aang's features morphed to an understanding yet sympathetic look as he took the older girl's hand in an effort to comfort her.

"Maybe because your feelings for him go a little more deeper then you realized." His statement had her frowning slightly, before she sighed and shook her head. "Well whatever the reason, I don't have time to think of him right now."

Forcing her thoughts to steer away from Zuko she instead smiled at Aang. "Come on! Help me find a fabric shop! I need to buy something!" Since they were still holding hands, she quickly led him away down the street in search of the aforementioned shop.

Leaving behind the statue of the man she hated.

Pushing aside the fact that her string had glowed red the entire time she had spoken with Aang, only disappearing when she finally entered the shop and began to browse the fabric, looking for the color she needed.

                                          ————————–

He had no idea what he was preparing for. During his training, he worked ten times harder. Be it perfecting his firebending forms, or practicing with his swords. His appetite had returned since he came back from Ember Island, resulting in him having more energy then he previously had.

While he did focus on the political part of his studies, he was no more interested in all the colonies the Fire Nation had created over the past hundred years. Not to mention the devastation caused.

The librarian had been a little surprised when Zuko had asked for those specific records, but everything was given to him because he was the Prince after all.

Everything the Fire Nation had done.

Every act of violence.

The number of people they had killed, not counting the entire Nation they had wiped out.

The resources that were being sent to the armies rather then being used by the general public.

The many many machines of war that had been created to support their so called cause.

The taxes imposed on the people to pay for the war.

The law stating every member of the family were to send two children to the front of the lines.

Nothing in all his findings told him anything about the Fire Nation actually contributing to the betterment of the world.

All they had done was take and leave nothing behind.

He remembered the time he had spent in the Earth Kingdom. All those people he had met on his journey. How in one way or another, every single one of them were effected by the Fire Nation.

The thousands of families displaced by the war.

The hundreds of families leaving behind their homes because it was no longer safe.

The children who had been orphaned.

The parents who had lost their children.

Soulmates who had lost their other half.

Uncle had lost his son.

Lu Ten had lost his life.

Aang lost his entire people.

Katara and Sokka lost their mother.

Song was scarred just like he was.

Lee had lost his brother.

Orora had almost been killed.

And so many countless others.

And all of them, had one thing in common.

They all hated the Fire Nation. No one respected them. They all feared and hated him and his people.

He hadn't helped in that belief by chasing Aang and his friends around the world. And then he had gone and betrayed Orora. Then he had sent that assassin after them.

Maybe Mai was right.

Maybe he did need to go out and find her. Tell her that he was beginning to think that the decision he had made in Ba Sing Se was the wrong one.

But how could he leave?

He couldn't just up and go, that would raise suspicion, and his father might send someone after him.

As he lay there with his hand held aloft so he could look at his glowing string, Zuko came to a decision.

The first chance he got, he would leave everything, find Orora, and join the people working against the Fire Nation to put a stop to it's tyrannical rule.

Once and for all.

                                          ————————–

Their escape from the newly named Combustion Man was a close call.

Too close.

In fact, it had put all of them on edge, and they'd taken to flying as far away from that town as possible.

In hindsight, maybe she should've discouraged them from telling scary stories as a way to unwind after their most stressful encounter yet. Orora had to admit, the place they had decided to make camp was spookier then any place they had spent the night at. Or maybe it was just her imagination, she mused to herself as they all sat around the fire.

"Water Tribe slumber parties must stink." Toph stated when one of Sokka's scary stories was not well-received. "I've never been to one, so I can't be the judge of that." The older girl put in her two thoughts, adding another dried stick to the fire the burned between them.

"No, wait! I've got one!" Katara spoke up from where she sat. "And this is a true Southern Water Tribe story."

Sokka rolled his eyes, not believing his sister. "Is this one of those 'a friend of my cousin knew some guy that this happened to' stories?" He said in a sarcastic tone, to which Katara shook her head.

"No, it happened to Mom." Upon hearing that, Sokka stiffened and everyone stopped moving as they sat in utter stillness, waiting for Katara to begin her story.

"One winter when Mom was a girl," She began, her voice low and soft. "A snowstorm buried the whole village for weeks. A month later, Mom noticed she hadn't seen her friend Nini since the storm. So Mom and some others went to check on Nini's family. When they got there, no one was home." A shiver ran down Orora's spine, her arms came to wrap around her legs as she hugged herself, eyes wide as she stared at Katara.

"Just a fire flickering in the fireplace. While the men went out to search, Mom stayed in the house. When she was alone, she heard a voice. 'It's so cold and I can't get warm!'" Sokka stiffened with fear, and even Toph gulped nervously where she sat. "Mom turned and saw Nini standing by the fire. She was blue like she was frozen. Mom ran outside for help, but when everyone came back, Nini was gone."

Aang used Momo's ears to cover his face in fear, while Orora quickly shifted to sit beside Toph, who didn't hesitate in grabbing her hand as they huddled together. Sokka, who had taken to hiding behind a gnarled tree stump peaked out. "Where'd she go?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Katara shook her head. "No one knows. Nini's house stands empty to this day, but sometimes, people see smoke coming up from the chimney, like little Nini is still trying to get warm." Orora glanced over her shoulder, as if she expected Nini to be standing right there behind her.

Suddenly Toph straightened up, placing her hand on the ground. "Wait! Guys, did you hear that?" Her movement was so sudden that Orora let out a broken shriek, while Aang, Katara and Sokka clutched at one another, staring around in fear.

"I hear people under the mountain. And they're screaming." Orora blinked. "Wh-what?" She gulped, ice blue eyes wide in fear as she stared around their small camp. Sokka, assuming Toph was just joking relaxed his grip around his sister and scoffed.

"Pfft! Nice try." Toph shook her head, her hand still pressed to the ground. "No, I'm serious. I hear something." She insisted, as Orora shifted to quickly sit beside Aang who was still hugging Katara. "Toph, cut it out. You're scaring everyone." She insisted, though even her voice sounded small and meek to her own ears.

A horde of physical enemies she could face any day, but spooky stories? That was a weakness her brothers had exploited when she had been younger.

"You're probably just jumpy from the ghost stories." Katara insisted, glancing at Aang and Orora in worry, who were both huddled together.

Toph frowned. "It just ... stopped." Aang gulped, clutching on to both Katara and Orora. "All right, now I'm getting scared."

Suddenly a voice called out through the darkness, soft and gentle. "Hello, children."

The camp rang loudly with the screams of said children as they scrambled around trying to find a place to hide. But then they all stopped when they saw what, or rather who had emerged from the shadows.

An elderly woman.

An elderly woman who turned out to be a Southern Water Tribe waterbender named Hama. Who told them all about what had happened during the Fire Nation raids, and how she had escaped them before hiding here.

It was all sad and heartbreaking, and yet, perhaps it was the scary stories still floating around in her mind, or perhaps it was her older sister instinct, or the fact that they were being hunted.

But somehow, Orora didn't trust Hama.

All because the old woman seemed to watch Katara's every move with a greedy, almost hungry, look on her face when she didn't think anyone was looking.

But Orora was.

Orora was always looking.

Always looking out for her family.

Which was why the night Hama told everyone what had happened to her, Orora pulled Sokka away from the rest of the dinner party to speak with him.

"Aww come on Orora! I was just going in for seconds!' He whined as she shut the door behind them and stepped outside in the night. She gave him a look that had him frowning. "Whats up?"

No sooner had he voiced his question before she spoke, making sure she kept her voice down. "Its just...." She wrapped her arms around herself, eyes looking around nervously. "I don't know something about this place and Hama makes me feel uneasy." She revealed to which Sokka nodded. "Well the stories of people disappearing certainly doesn't help." He added, to which Orora simply nodded.

Reaching out he gave her a comforting pat on the back. "Look, we're just gonna solve this mystery, then be on our way. Don't worry, we'll all be on our guard. And remember what Aang said, not everyone we run into is bad or out to get us." When she gave him an unconvincing look he sighed.

"Look, I get you would be nervous when it comes to trusting people, but you have all of us watching your back and each other's, so really there's no need to worry." And though Sokka's words did bring her some comfort, Orora still remained alert, not wanting to be caught off guard.

Of course, that amounted to nothing when the very next morning, Hama asked to see her under the pretense of having her get something from the market, only to knock her out from behind and drag her away into the forest.

Orora woke just as Hama was tying her wrists and feet to keep her from running away. Still groggy from the hit to the back of her head, which was still hurting, Orora was barely aware of where she was as she watched the old crone go about securing her.

"You know, when the first raid happened, we sent a message to our sister Nation, begging for help. To send reinforcements." Hama spoke once she was satisfied with her bonds. A filthy rag was wrapped around her mouth to keep her from screaming. Despite the pain, the young waterbender was able to glare fiercely at Hama, anger burning in her ice blue eyes.

"Of course being so far away, they couldn't send help in time. But my brothers and sisters did hold out during our first few months in our cells. Thinking that perhaps our Northern brothers and sisters would come to rescue us." She turned her hateful gaze towards the young girl, who glared right back.

"However, with every full moon that passed, we realized that no help was coming. And whatever hope we had of escaping slowly died. And though I realize you are not directly responsible for your forefathers actions." The old crone leaned down right in Orora's face as she smiled coldly at her. "Holding you accountable is the next best thing."

Orora felt herself grow cold, her mind racing with all the possibilities that Hama would carry out on her out of the anger and hatred that had festered in her for so long.

Running her long bony fingers through the white patch of her hair in a condescending manner, Hama hummed as she smiled. "Now, why don't you wait here while I have a one-on-one lesson with your friend Katara."

Her fear for Katara triumphed her own own fear. She tried her best struggling and thrashing to get away, but Hama was strong, stronger then she looked. Pulling on the rope, she was able to tie Orora to a tree, tight and secure her there.

"I'll be back for you." She promised, before walking off, leaving the girl to struggle and call out into the wind, her voice muffled and barely audible.

The entire day she pulled and thrashed, trying to free herself. Her wrists began to ache and she knew she had split the skin from where the ropes burned against her. Even her ankles burned, and her throat ached from screaming.

All that for nothing.

Finally, during mid afternoon, she gave up. Her head hung to the side as she began to doze off, the occurrences of the day getting to her. Tears of frustration burned her eyes at every waking interval, as she cursed her own stupidity, and for not listening to her instincts.

She was worried.

Worried for her friends. But especially for Katara.

What would Hama do to her?

All day long, the questions and scenarios plagued her mind. Slowly, the sun set and the sounds of the night roused her from her half-asleep stupor. The bright light from the moon shone down on her, prompting her to inhale deeply, taking in the strength it provided her with. Her tired body gained a little strength, though the back of her head still stung from where she had been hit.

Suddenly, she heard voices.

Her ears pricked up and she focused on the voices that approached her.

Hama and Katara.

Instantly she began to squirm and pull at her restraints. She could feel the dried blood on her wrists split as fresh blood oozed out.

"And to make sure, you learn what I have to teach you, I brought a little incentive."

Suddenly Hama appeared in her view, making her recoil in fright. The old woman worked quickly, untying her from the tree and pulling her towards the clearing where Katara was standing.

"Orora!" Katara's shocked voice cut through the night, echoing the clearing as the older girl lay battered and bruised at the old woman's feet. "What have you done to her? Let her go!" She demanded, stepping forward, to which Hama held up a placating hand.

"What I'm about to show you." Hama began, glaring down at Orora in a menacing manner before turning her attention back to Katara. "I discovered in that wretched Fire Nation prison."

Orora only caught snippets of the story, trying hard not to pass out from the pain that radiated from her head. It was so difficult to focus when all she could pay attention to was the stricken look on Katara's face. But she did manage to catch the important parts of the story.

Hama had created a new sub-form of waterbending.

One that allowed her to control the water within any living creature.

Bloodbending, she called it.

"Once you perfect this technique, you can control anything or anyone." Hama continued, her gaze dropping to Orora who tried her best to glare back at her.

Katara shook her head. "But..... to reach inside someone and control them? I don't know if I want that kind of power." She said, casting a worried look in Orora's direction.

Hama shook her head. "The choice is not yours. The power exists. And it's your duty to use the gifts you've been given to win this war." she urged, before appealing to Katara's kind nature. "Katara, they tried to wipe us out, our entire culture, your mother!"

Katara closed her eyes, thinking of her mother. "I know." She whispered.

"And our sister Tribe did nothing to help." Hama added, glaring down at Orora. "You should understand what I'm talking about! We're the last two waterbenders of the Southern Tribe. We have to fight these people whenever we can, wherever they are, with any means necessary!" She concluded, that scary, desperate and mad gleam coming to her eyes once more.

Katara's eyes widened in shock. "It's you! You're the one who's been making people disappear during the full moons!" Her gaze flickered to Orora. "Let Orora go! Now!"

In response, Hama simply growled. "They threw me in prison to rot, along with my brothers and sisters! And her people did nothing to help! They all deserve the same! You must carry on my work!"

The younger waterbender shook her head, pointing at Hama. "I won't!" Pride swelled in Orora as she watched her friend stand up for what was right. "I won't use bloodbending and I won't allow you to keep terrorizing this town!"

Suddenly Orora felt her entire body freeze up. A horrified gasp was muffled by the cloth around her mouth as she felt her entire body lift from the ground, the bonds fell from around her wrists and ankles as her arms and legs contorting in unnatural angles, her head falling to the side.

Her eyes widened in horror, as she tried, but failed, to move her limbs.

"You should've learned the technique before you turned against me!" Hama's voice came, snapping her out of her terrified state. Her eyes were all that she could control as they darted around, trying to see what was going on, and to escape. "It's impossible to fight your way out of my grip! I control every muscle, every vein in your body!"

With swift motions of her hands and arms, Hama used bloodbending to bring them both side by side before beginning to throw them around. The first swing had Orora crashing through branches, the sharp edges scratching her skin as she went. Somehow, her rag loosened from around her mouth, allowing her cries of pain to echo all around her.

Hama slammed her onto the ground, making her hit her head. She paused briefly with Katara, as turned her attention on Orora instead. "I'll deal with you later." She hissed, before throwing the girl to the side. Her helpless body slammed against a tree trunk, which shuddered from the impact.

The hit was enough for her to drop to the floor and for her vision to go black.

Orora's ears rang with the sound of Katara pleading and crying for Hama to stop, before everything went black.

She roused to someone shaking her shoulder.

Ice blue eyes snapped open. Adrenaline coursed through her body as she sat up, arms held aloft and at the ready to defend herself. Only to be greeted by the sight of Sokka leaning over her with a worried look. He'd barely opened his mouth to say something when something or rather someone over his eye caught her attention.

Katara.

Sobbing hysterically as Aang held her.

Her entire body screamed with pain, and yet she pushed past Sokka, barely noticing the various cuts and bruises her whole body supported. Aang pulled back a little from his embrace, looking at Orora in a helpless manner. The older girl wasted no time.

She wrapped her arms around the younger girl in a fierce and protective embrace, holding her close. Katara, realizing who was holding her, began to cry anew, burying her face in Orora's chest, her entire body shaking with each sob that wrecked through her. Orora could feel her own emotions welling to the surface, prompting tears to silently cascade down her cheeks as she held and did her best to comfort her sister.

It took awhile for them both to calm down, but once they were, they didn't waste any time climbing atop Appa and flying away into the night.

Katara sat next to her brother, leaning against him for support. Aang sat on Appa's head, though every now and then he would glance back at his soulmate in worry. Toph sat next to Orora who had Momo in her lap. "You should heal yourself." Toph spoke softly, reaching out to place her water satchel in her hands. The girl gave a nod, pulling out the water and healing the injury to the back of her head, the open wounds on her wrists and around her ankles, as well as the various cuts that littered her any skin that wasn't covered in fabric.

It was a little slow work, since her limbs felt stiff. Not to mention her whole body ached. From being thrown against a tree or because Hama controlled her entire body. She didn't know. It was a truly terrifying experience. Not being able to control her actions and being at the mercy of a mad woman.

Once done, she threw the water to the side since it was mixed with blood and dirt.

Her mind was still heavy with all that she had endured, but nothing could compare to what Katara was feeling. She pursed her lips as she stared worriedly at the younger girl. Her gaze met Sokka's who shared in her worry.

Walking on her knees, she was able to catch Aang's attention, who came to sit on Katara's other side. Guiding Toph to sit beside her, with Aang on her right side, Orora reached out and took Katara's hands.

"I think we've shared enough scary stories." Everyone, minus Katara, gave weak smiles at her attempt to make a joke. "We could all do with something a little more brighter and happier." Katara raised her red-rimmed eyes at her, her usually bright blue eyes looking so dull and hopeless that it broke her own heart. "So I'm going to recite this poem I love, about two soulmates, and the love they had for one another. Sound good?"

When no objection came, she nodded. Closing her eyes briefly, she cleared her throat and began to speak.

Her voice was soft and gentle, the words hopeful and full of love. So unlike everything they had faced in the past few days. Maybe it was the poem or maybe it was the fact that they were all together, and they were safe.

Whatever it was, it helped.

And slowly, gradually, eventually, the darkness around them began to lift.

                                          ————————–

He was dreaming.

It had been a long while since he had dreamed.

Or rather dreamed of her.

And yet, there she was, standing there with his back to him, staring out at the open ocean that gleamed under the light of the full moon.

He slowly walked up to her, unable to hesitate or even think it through. Why? Because he wanted to be near her. He wanted to see her face. In that moment nothing else mattered. Not the beautiful scenery or that this was all in his head.

He just missed her so much.

Once he reached her, he was surprised to see that she was crying. Her eyes were closed, and tears were sliding down her cheeks, every tear gleaming like a diamond against her beautiful skin.

Where he had been unable to approach her when she had appeared to him crying once before, this time Zuko didn't even think about what he had to do.

He reached up, cupping her face, prompting her to open her eyes and look at him.

Sorrowful blue met gentle warm amber.

His thumb wiped at a tear that escaped her gorgeous eyes. Call it wishful thinking, but maybe she leaned into his touch a little, as if drawing comfort from him. His head leaned down, pressing their forehead together, their noses brushing.

This was all a dream. Zuko knew that.

So then why did it all feel so real?

"I'll come back to you." He whispered, prompting her to open her eyes and look at him, the surprise clear across her features. "I promise." So saying, he shifted so his lips could press against the middle of her forehead in a tender kiss. Orora closed her eyes again, relishing in his presence, one that she had so sorely missed and yet had never admitted to herself that she did.

He pulled back, but only to hold up the finger that had his string tied around it. Of course, if was glowing a bright blue. Orora's eyes widened, and he knew she saw the color. Slowly, she lifted her own finger, showing the red hue that gleamed there, warm and bright. Zuko couldn't help the breathless laugh of happiness that escaped his lips. The sound prompted a smile to form on Orora's lips as she allowed their fingers to intertwine, allowing whatever length was left between their strings to completely disappear. Their gazes met.

"I'll be waiting."

                                          ————————–

When she awoke, there was a warmth on her forehead where Zuko had kissed her. Her string glowed a bright red through the day.

                                          ————————–

When he awoke, there was a warmth in his heart and a lightness to his soul. His string glowed a bright blue throughout the day.

                                          ————————–

And it scared her.

                                          ————————–

And it gave him strength.

                                           ————————–

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[echo-goes-mmm]

Kitty Elliot AU #1

Masterpost

Next

Warnings: starvation, confinement

Ambrose was cleaning up when he noticed a guest had left a trunk in the room. He sighed.

Mr. Horneswood was long gone; he had left hours ago. He picked up the handle to move the trunk downstairs so he could swing by and pick it up later.

It was heavy, heavier than expected, and a soft whimper came from the box.

He dropped the trunk in surprise, and the trunk yelped.

“Hello?” he called out.

Nothing. Did he imagine it?

Ambrose hesitantly knocked on the trunk. 

Someone knocked back. Shit.

“Oh my god- okay- uh- hang tight, alright? I’ll get you out-”

The latch had a padlock that wouldn’t budge, and he ran down the stairs. There was a hammer in the shed outside, and he frantically searched the toolbox.

He sprinted up the stairs, tool in hand.

“Just hang on-”

Ambrose hit the lock as hard as he could, over and over, cries coming from the trunk.

“It’s okay- it’s okay-”

The lock finally broke after a few tries, and he fumbled with the latch. He threw open the lid, panting.

Inside the trunk, curled up and trembling, was a catperson.

He stared up at Ambrose with frightened blue eyes, tears running down his filthy face.

His ears were pinned back, tail tucked between his legs. He was only wearing boxers, and his skin was covered in marks, old and new.

“Hey, buddy,” breathed out Ambrose. 

The catboy shrank back into what little space there was, curled up so tight it must be painful. His ribs and bones jutted out from under his skin.

“You can come out,” coaxed Ambrose, “it’s okay.”

The young man practically leapt out of the trunk, startling him. The catboy scrambled for the far corner of the room, his eyes darting around, before dashing under the bed.

Ambrose put the trunk and hammer aside, and knelt down to look under the bed.

Shiny blue eyes reflected back at him. He was crouched down as low as possible, his gray tail agitated and twitching. There was a tight black collar around his neck, so tight he could see some skin rubbed raw.

Ambrose wasn’t sure what to do. He hadn’t seen a catperson in decades; not since he worked at the temple. They were a holy rarity, designed by the gods, but this one was clearly not treated with respect.

Ambrose sat back on his heels, thinking. He peered back under the bed.

The catboy opened his mouth and closed it, a silent meow Ambrose recognized from feral house cats. The real kind, not the dignified catpeople he knew. And he was so thin.

“Do you want something to eat?” he asked. “Water?”

The young man’s ear twitched. Good enough.

“I’ll be right back,” he promised.

Ambrose carefully closed the door behind him, and it clicked softly. 

He didn’t remember seeing the catboy when Mr. Horneswood checked in. He must have been hidden inside the whole time; two days at least. Poor thing.

Ambrose got some cured salmon from the pantry, and poured a mug of water. He considered cream, as lots of catpeople loved it, but some had issues with milk and he didn’t want to give a starving man a stomach ache.

He carefully carried the plate and mug upstairs, opening the door with his elbow.

“I got you some fish,” he said, pushing the plate and mug under the bed. “I hope you like it.”

There was some shuffling, and the sound of eating. He peeked under the bed, and the catboy was drinking from the mug. His tongue lapped up the water, as opposed to using his hands, and Ambrose’s heart panged with pity.

It seemed he was more ‘cat’ than ‘person’. It made the collar’s presence all the more disturbing.

He was a pet, or perhaps something worse, and that was its own horror.

The fish was gone quickly.

“Want some more?” Ambrose asked, and the catboy’s head shot up. He stared back at Ambrose.

“You can have more,” he repeated. “Do you want more?”

The boy licked his lips, before shaking his head. Full, maybe? It was a pretty big filet.

“Okay. Can I have the plate back?” His tail swished anxiously. “That’s alright. You can keep it, I guess.”

Ambrose turned and sat, his back against the bed. He sighed. 

What the fuck should he do? He couldn’t let the catboy go back to Mr. Horneswood. He just couldn’t let that happen. The catboy could have died inside that trunk, and clearly Horneswood didn’t care if he was left behind.

The best he could do was help the young man feel comfortable.

Ambrose stood. He picked up the folded blanket on the end of the bed and crouched down, holding it out partially under the bed. 

“Here you go. You’ll be more comfortable if you want to stay under there.”

There was a soft tug on the end, and Ambrose let the boy pull the fabric underneath. 

He heard shuffling, a scraping sound, and felt something push against his foot.

Ambrose looked down, and saw the plate halfway out from the bed. He picked it up.

“Thanks,” he said, smiling. “I’ll get you some more food, in case you get hungry.”

___________________

Ambrose finished his chores, keeping an ear out, but the room the catboy was sequestered in was silent. Maybe he was just asleep.

Mr. Horneswood had still not come back when evening set in. He went back upstairs, knocking on the door before opening it. He didn’t see the catboy; he must be still under the bed.

“I don’t think Mr. Horneswood is coming back for you,” he said honestly. “You can stay here as long as you like, though.”

Nothing. He bent over to look under the bed, and unsurprisingly the catboy was staring back at him.

He wasn’t an expert in catperson body language, but he did know a little about cats. Ambrose blinked slowly at him, but the catboy said nothing.

He sat down on the floor, cross legged. “I’m not gonna hurt you,” he said softly. “And I’m really sorry you got left behind.” Ambrose glanced at the once again empty plate.

“Are you still hungry?”

The catboy nodded. “Do you need more water? Or the bathroom?”

The young man said nothing. 

“Sorry, that’s two questions. Water?” A nod. “Bathroom?” The catboy pointed to the toilet that came with every room and shook his head.

At least he was brave enough to use that, but he seemed unwilling to leave his nest under the bed.

“Okay. Can I get those dishes?”

A nod.

Ambrose reached underneath the bed, and the catboy shrank back a little as he grabbed the mug and plate. “It’s alright,” he soothed. 

He stood up and turned, but the trunk and hammer leaning against the wall caught his eye. Maybe he was afraid of being put back inside. The open lid had claw marks on the inside.

He shuddered.

“I’m going to take these downstairs,” he said, picking up the hammer. He closed the trunk, piling the dishes and hammer on top. “I’ll be back soon.”

___________________

This time he had a full plate of meat, bread, and some fruit. He couldn’t remember if catpeople ate fruit, but it couldn’t hurt.

He put the plate of food just in front of the bed, and hoped he could maybe coax the catboy out.

Ambrose sat a good few feet from the plate and waited.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” he quietly repeated.

Slowly, the catboy crawled to the edge of the bed, the blanket around his shoulders.

He looked skeptical, but his focus was on the food and water. He licked his lips.

“I promise,” Ambrose said. 

The catboy’s eyes flicked to him, and back to the plate. Ambrose held his breath.

The young man slipped out, bringing his knees to his chest. He looked at Ambrose, his head tilted to the side. His tail swished. Ambrose gently smiled at him.

The catboy lowered himself to his hands and knees and began to eat, his ears alert.

Success.

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[kckt88]

The Lost Dragon 2 - Letters.

Summary:

A series of letters that Aemond wrote to Vaelys, but never sent.

Warnings - Angst, Drama, Language, Allusion to Smut, Discussions of Events from Lost Dragon, Future Events.

AEMOND TARGARYEN x O.C -VAELYS TARGARYEN

Word Count: 9507

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @darylandbethfanforever9

Dear Vaelys,

The halls of the Red Keep feel emptier without you. Even though it has only been a few days since you went to Dragonstone, it seems like an eternity has passed. I find myself wandering through the corridors, expecting to see your smile around every corner, only to be met with silence and shadows.

You were my only friend, Vaelys, the one person who understood me in ways no one else could. With you gone, I feel a profound loneliness that I cannot shake. It is as if a part of me has been torn away, leaving an aching void in its place. I miss our conversations, our shared laughter, and the comfort of knowing that someone cared for me not as a Prince, but as simply Aemond.

Dragonstone is now your home. Yet, I selfishly wish you were still here, by my side. The burden of our family's name feels heavier without your presence to lighten it.

All my love,

Aemond.

-

Dear Vaelys,

I write to you with a heart heavy with sorrow, having heard the news of Laena's passing.

We are to gather on Driftmark for her funeral, to honour her memory and pay our respects. Yet, in the midst of this sorrow, I must confess to feeling a pang of something I should not—a glimmer of anticipation.

I know it is selfish of me, but the thought of seeing you again brings a light to my heart that I have not felt since you left King's Landing. The days have been long and lonely without you here, and the prospect of being in your company, even under such mournful circumstances, brings me a measure of solace.

I have missed you terribly, Vaelys. The thought of seeing you again, if only for a short while, gives me something to hold onto in these dark times.

I hope you are well and finding strength amidst the sorrow. I look forward to our reunion on Driftmark, though it is shrouded in the grief of loss. Until then, please take care of yourself and know that you are in my thoughts.

With all my love,

Aemond.

-

Dear Vaelys,

I-I don’t know how to start this. Everything hurts. My eye-or where it was-the pain is-it's too much. I can’t think straight, can’t do anything. The simplest things are so hard now. Writing this-it’s near almost impossible. My handshakes, and my vision blurs.

I need you. I need you here, with me. I can’t-I don’t know how much longer I can endure this. The pain, the frustration, the-the loneliness. It’s like a storm in my mind, and I’m drowning in it. I don’t know what to do. I’m so lost without you.

Please, Vaelys, come to me. I need your help, your presence, your-your everything. You always knew how to make things better, how to-how to make the world seem less dark. I can’t do this alone. I’m breaking apart. I don’t know how to be whole again.

The nights are the worst. The pain doesn’t stop, and I-I can’t sleep. I just lie there, thinking, hurting. I need you to help me, to make the pain bearable, to-to be my friend again. I’m begging you, Vaelys. Please, come.

I can’t write anymore. It’s too much. But please, know that I need you. More than ever.

With all my love,

Aemond.

-

Dear Vaelys,

I-I do not hate you for what happened on Driftmark. I know you were scared. What happened to my eye was not your fault. It was your brother's actions that led to this.

All I wanted was a dragon. I was tired of being picked on, tired of being seen as lesser because I did not have one. Claiming Vhagar felt like the only way to prove myself, to finally belong.

The loss of my eye is a burden I will carry for the rest of my life, but it is not a burden I place on you. I miss you, Vaelys,

With all my love,

Aemond

-

Dear Vaelys,

I hesitate to write to you about this, but I feel I must.

On my thirteenth name day, Aegon took me to the street of silk. He said it was time for me to ‘get it wet’. I-I tried to refuse, but he wouldn’t listen. He pushed me into that place, and I did what he said because I felt I had no choice.

I felt nothing but shame and disgust. I didn’t want to be there, didn’t want to do what he said. But I did it. And now I am left with this sense of filth that I cannot wash away. I feel so ashamed, Vaelys. So deeply ashamed of what happened, of what I did.

I beg you, please do not hate me for this. It was not something I wanted, not something I chose. Aegon made me do it, and I feel like a part of me has been tainted forever. I am so afraid of what you will think of me now.

Please, Vaelys, understand that I am still the same person you have always known. I am lost and in pain, but I am still Aemond. I need your forgiveness, your understanding, now more than ever.

P-Please d-don’t hate m-me.

With all my love,

Aemond

-

Dear Vaelys,

I have immersed myself in the study of history and philosophy. The ancient texts have provided a welcome distraction and have opened my mind to new perspectives. The wisdom of those who came before us is fascinating.

In addition to my studies, I have been training with the sword daily. The discipline and physical exertion help to clear my mind and strengthen my body. It is a way for me to channel my energy and focus on something productive. I feel myself improving with each session, growing more confident and skilled.

A few days ago, I took Vhagar for a flight across the Blackwater. The experience was exhilarating, the wind in my face and the vast expanse of the sky around me. We flew for many hours, and eventually, I saw the silhouette of Dragonstone in the distance. My heart raced with the thought of flying further, of coming to see you.

But as I neared, I lost my nerve. Doubts crept in, and I turned Vhagar back towards King’s Landing.

I wanted to let you know that you are always in my thoughts, even when I am far away.

With all my love,

Aemond

-

Dear Vaelys,

I cannot help but wonder why you have not written to me.

We made a promise to each other in front of the weirwood tree, a promise that I have held close to my heart. Do those words mean nothing to you now? How could you cast me adrift like this? Do you not realize how much I need you?

I feel abandoned, Vaelys. I feel as if you have turned away from me, and it tears at my soul. You were my closest friend, the one person who understood me better than anyone else. Why have you turned on me?

I find myself questioning everything. Did our bond mean so little to you? Have you truly forgotten the connection we shared? I am struggling to understand how you could simply let go, how you could leave me to face this world alone.

Please, Vaelys..

With all my love,

Aemond

-

Dear Vaelys,

It feels both comforting and ridiculous to write to you again after so many years. These letters, unsent and unseen, have become a private sanctuary for my thoughts. I suppose it is my way of holding onto something that has long since faded.

I miss you, Vaelys. I miss the closeness we once shared, the bond that felt unbreakable. Yet with each passing day, the distance between us grows, and our promise in front of the weirwood tree seems less likely to ever be fulfilled. I often wonder if you think of me as I think of you, or if I have become just a distant memory, a shadow of your past.

It is strange, this compulsion to write to you when I know these words will never reach you. Perhaps it is my way of preserving the connection we had, a connection that seems to slip further away with time.

Life has moved on, as it inevitably does. I have continued my studies, my training, and my duties, but there is always an ache, a sense of something missing. You were my friend, the one who understood me in ways no one else could. The absence of your presence has left a void that nothing seems to fill.

I often find myself at the window of my chambers, gazing out at the horizon, wondering what you are doing, where you are, and if you are happy. I wonder if you remember our promise if it still holds any meaning for you. For me, it is a bittersweet reminder of a time when the future seemed so certain, so bright.

I fear the distance that has grown between us, both physical and emotional. I fear that the years have changed us in ways that make it impossible to bridge the gap. Yet, despite these fears, I hold onto the hope that somewhere in your heart, you still remember and care.

This letter, like the others, will remain unsent, a testament to my thoughts and feelings that will never reach you. But it feels good to express them, to put into words the emotions that have long been buried.

Know that I miss you, and that you are always in my thoughts, even as the years continue to pass.

With all my love,

Aemond.

-

Dear Vaelys,

You are here, in the Red Keep. After six long years, I finally saw you today. Oh gods, Vaelys, you are so beautiful, my breath caught in my throat and my heart pounded in my chest the moment I laid eyes on you.

But you wouldn’t look at me. You were so close, yet you seemed so far away, hovering near those bastard Strong brothers of yours. It made me angry, Vaelys. Why won’t you look at me? Why do you stay so close to them and not come to me?

I had hoped that our reunion would be different, that we would find our way back to the connection we once shared.

I have missed you terribly, and to see you so close yet feel so distant is unbearable.

The sight of you today has brought all my feelings rushing back, feelings I thought I had buried deep within. The memory of our promise in front of the weirwood tree haunts me still. Do you remember it?

Please, Vaelys, I need to know. Look at me, speak to me, let me understand what has happened between us. The years have been long and lonely without you and seeing you today has reminded me of how much I need you, how much I still care.

With all my love,

Aemond.

-

Dear Vaelys,

I find myself unable to shake the feeling of anger and resentment that gnaws at my soul. The petition for Driftmark, my father's sudden resurgence from his sickbed to defend his favourite child once again, and the ploy for power by Vaemond.

And then there was the feast. Forced to break bread with people I despise, to smile and nod and pretend to be civil when all I wanted to do was scream. And through it all, you still wouldn't look at me.

Why, Vaelys? Why do you turn away from me? Am I no longer worthy of your attention, your friendship?

It feels as if we are strangers, ships passing in the night with nothing but silence between us. I yearn for the connection we once shared, for the warmth of your smile and the comfort of your presence.

Seeing you here has stirred things within me. My cock grows hard at the thought of you and forgive me-I have fucked my fist many times this night. I wish to know what it feels like-to touch you with my lips, my fingers and my cock, would you let me sheath myself within you and never leave? I long to be the only man who will ever know you in that way-to take your maidenhead and keep you as mine forever.

I know that these words will never reach you. But I cannot keep them inside any longer.

Please, Vaelys, look at me. Speak to me.

With all my love,

Aemond

-

Dear Vaelys,

The King is dead, and my wastrel of a brother Aegon has been crowned. Your mother was the named heir, but he is the Kings first born son, it was the right thing to do, the proper thing to do but I feel the uncertainty swirling within me.

You are Rhaenyra’s heir; you would have been Queen one day. But now, with Aegon as King, that future has been snatched away from you, and I helped to do it. I-I cannot bear the thought of what this means for you now.

My grandsire has commanded that I fly to Storm's End and choose a Baratheon for a bride. A political alliance, a marriage to secure support for Aegon.

I-I don’t want to, the thought turns my stomach-of taking a woman I do not desire, to again be forced-but I must.

But I want you to know that this is duty and nothing more. I will NEVER love her.

For in my heart, there is only one woman I desire, only one woman I long to call my own.

It is you, Vaelys. You are the one. Please, forgive me.

With all my love,

Aemond.

-

Dear Vaelys,

I beg of you, forgive me. Forgive me for my foolishness, my arrogance, my selfishness.

I heard the words you spoke, Vaelys. I heard you declare your intention to marry Cregan Stark, and something inside me snapped. I was consumed by rage and jealousy.

I chased after you in that wretched storm, blinded by my rage and my desperation. I did not think, I did not consider the consequences of my actions. All I knew was that I could not bear to lose you, that I could not bear to see you in the arms of another.

And now, your beloved dragon, Archonei, lies dead, and you are a prisoner in the Red Keep. The guilt is like a weight upon my chest, crushing me with its enormity.

Seeing you bleeding and bound in chains is something I will never forget, and neither is the fire you spewed forth-I’m shameless in my admittance that my cock grew hard when you refused to bend the knee.

It brought me a twisted sense of satisfaction to hear your words.

Your truly are a dragon-the revelation that you are the daughter of Daemon doesn’t surprise me in the slightest, you’ve always had that rogue quality about you.

What my brother wanted to do to you-I couldn’t allow it. I know marrying me after everything that’s happened isn’t ideal, but it was the only way to save you.

I brought you here, this is ALL my fault.

But I beg of you, Vaelys, find it in your heart to forgive me. Forgive me please.

With all my love,

Aemond.

-

Dear Vaelys,

I find myself at a loss for words, overwhelmed by the events that have transpired between us. Our union, our marriage, was meant to be a joyous occasion, a celebration of our love and commitment to each other. But instead, it has become a nightmare, a twisted mockery of everything we hold dear.

To be forced to consummate our union in front of witnesses, to have our most intimate moments laid bare for all to see—it sickens me, Vaelys. It fills me with a sense of shame and disgust that I cannot shake. Our first time together, tainted by the prying eyes of others.

And afterwards, when it was over, and we were left alone in our chambers, you begged for me to hold you. You sobbed in my arms, your tears a bitter reminder of the pain and humiliation you had endured. I wanted to comfort you, to soothe your fears and wipe away your tears, but I felt powerless to do so.

I am haunted by the memory of that night, Vaelys. The look in your eyes, the sound of your sobs—it will stay with me forever. You deserved better.

I know not what the future holds, Vaelys. I know only that I cannot bear to see you in pain, to see you suffer, I will do whatever it takes to protect you, to shield you from further harm.

With all my love,

Aemond.

-

Dear Vaelys,

The war rages on. And now, my brother, has made a demand of me that I cannot bear to think of.

You, Vaelys, have become a pawn in his twisted game of power and ambition. Your friendship with Helaena, your admiration for the beauty of the gardens—I cannot help but laugh at your fear of bugs.

But then, my brother summoned me, and the laughter died on my lips. The war was not going well, he said, and having you as a hostage was not achieving the desired results. And so, he demanded that I get you with child—another hostage to be used against our enemies, a pawn in this game of thrones.

The very thought of it fills me with revulsion, Vaelys. To think that a child born from us could be used in such a manner.

Forgive me, Vaelys, for the pain and suffering that I have brought upon you.

With all my love,

Aemond.

-

Vaelys,

I cannot begin to express the fury that consumes me in this moment. After everything we shared, after the passion and the intimacy we experienced together, you dared to try and escape from me. How could you, Vaelys?

You said you chose me, that you wanted to be with me, and yet you tried to leave. Do you not understand what you mean to me? Do you not realize the lengths I would go to in order to keep you safe, to protect you from harm? I killed Ser Erryk, because he dared to try and help you escape. I would not have you taken away from me, Vaelys, not now, not ever.

You belong to me, body and soul, and I will not allow anyone to take you from me. You are mine, Vaelys, and you will remain mine until the end of time.

Do not think for a moment that you can escape from me again. I will not hesitate to take whatever measures are necessary to ensure that you remain by my side, where you belong.

Remember this, Vaelys: you are MINE, and nothing and no one will ever change that.

Aemond.

-

My Vaelys,

I find myself torn between fury and tenderness, anger and love, as I sit down to write to you. The events of the past days have tested me in ways I never thought possible, and yet, despite everything, my feelings for you remain unchanged. No matter how much I try to deny it, I cannot escape the truth—I love you, Vaelys, more than words can express.

I lied to Aegon for you, Vaelys. Despite my fury at your attempt to escape, I could not bear the thought of any harm coming to you. And so, when he demanded answers, I protected you.

I allowed you to write to your mother, even though I knew I should not have. It was a risk, a dangerous game to play, but I could not deny you this small comfort. You are trapped here, as I am, and I know how much you long to be reunited with your family. I could not deny you that, not when I have already taken so much from you.

And then, you found the drawings—the ones you gave me all those years ago. I had kept every single one of them, tucked away in a secret corner of my chambers. They were a reminder of you, of our love before the world tore us apart.

We spent the most wondrous time together in bed, Vaelys, lost in each other's arms as if nothing else mattered.

Oh gods, it was unlike anything I’ve ever encountered before. It was everything.

I love you, Vaelys, more than words can express.

With all my love,

Aemond.

-

My Darling,

The gods have blessed us. Your womb carries our child, a precious gift that fills me with an indescribable sense of wonder and gratitude.

Oh gods, Vaelys, I can hardly contain myself. The thought of our child, our flesh and blood, growing within you—it fills me with a sense of awe and reverence that I cannot put into words.

Everyone expects a son. And yet, as I sit here and ponder the future that awaits us, I cannot help but wonder what it would be like to have a daughter. A precious little girl, with your eyes and my hair, to dote upon and cherish for all eternity.

But regardless of whether our child is a son or a daughter, one thing is certain— they will be loved beyond measure. They will know nothing but warmth and affection, surrounded by the love of us both.

With all my love and devotion,

Aemond.

-

My Vaelys,

Last night, men sneaked into our chambers, their blades glinting in the darkness as they forced me to my knees, holding me at knife point.

In that moment, I feared for my life, Vaelys. I feared that I would never see you again.

But then you came, like a beacon of hope in the darkness. You begged for my life.

That if they spared my life you would go with them willingly. The thought of you wanting to leave me again—it tore at my soul, Vaelys.

But I was wrong to doubt you, for in that moment, you proved yourself to be a true dragon, fierce and unyielding.

You seized a weapon, and you struck one of the men with a fury that took my breath away. It was a sight to behold, Vaelys, to see you defend me with such courage and determination. In that moment, I felt a swell of pride and admiration for you, my beloved wife, as you fought to protect me.

With your brave actions, you gave me the opportunity to dispatch the intruders quickly, to ensure that we both emerged from the ordeal unscathed. And for that, Vaelys, I am eternally grateful. You risked everything to save me, to protect our love, and I will never forget it.

We moved into Maegor’s Holdfast at my mother’s insistence and I’m not ashamed to admit that my sexual appetite for you that night was ravenous.

Fucking you as many times as I was able to, left me thoroughly satisfied beyond all measure and I must say the way you bite your lip as you peak around my cock has left me wanting to see it again.

With all my love and devotion,

Aemond.

-

My Love,

We have a daughter.

Sovia, my byka grēges. She is such a sweet little girl, with your eyes and my hair, a perfect blend of the love we share.

Never did I imagine that I could create something so beautiful, so precious. To hold her in my arms, to feel her tiny fingers wrapped around mine—it is a feeling beyond words, a love beyond measure.

She is our legacy, our hope for the future, and I am so proud to call her my daughter.

I cannot thank you enough, Vaelys, for birthing our child. You are the bravest, strongest woman I know, and I am so proud of you, Vaelys—proud of the woman you are, proud of the mother you have become. You have given me the greatest gift imaginable, and for that, I will be forever grateful.

With all my love and devotion,

Aemond.

-

My Vaelys,

Another child, another precious gift to fill our lives with love and laughter—it is more than I could have ever hoped for. In the midst of war and uncertainty, the thought of our growing family brings me a sense of peace and joy that I cannot put into words.

Life with our little Sovia has been a whirlwind of joy and wonder, each day filled with new discoveries and precious moments shared together as a family. She is growing so quickly, and now, to know that another little one will soon join our ranks—it fills me with a sense of awe and gratitude that I cannot fully express.

Thank you, Vaelys, for blessing me with your love and the gift of our children.

With all my love and devotion,

Aemond.

-

My sweet wife,

I cannot help but feel torn between my duty to my family and my duty to my king. The war between the Greens and the Blacks still rages on, consuming everything in its path, and yet I find myself caught in the middle, torn between conflicting loyalties and obligations.

Your father still holds Harrenhal, your mother remains on Dragonstone, and Aegon grows tired of our grandsire's inaction. He has removed him from his position as Hand of the King and temporarily promoted Ser Criston Cole instead, his strategy aggressive and one that promises to bring an end to the conflict once and for all.

Admittedly, I am reluctant to leave you and Sovia behind, to ride into battle once more and risk everything for a cause that seems increasingly futile. But I know that I cannot refuse. I ride the largest dragon in the world, and I am expected to defend my King, no matter the cost.

I cannot promise that I will return unscathed. War is a cruel and unforgiving mistress, one that takes as much as it gives. But know this—I will fight with every ounce of strength and courage that I possess, not for glory or honour, but for the safety and security of our family.

With all my love and devotion,

Aemond.

-

My Dearest Vaelys,

The battle at Rook's Rest has come and gone, but the memory of what transpired in the skies above will haunt me for the rest of my days. Rhaenys and Baela appeared on their dragons, Meleys and Moondancer, and engaged us in a deadly aerial duel that shook the very foundations of the earth.

I knew that I could not harm your sister Baela, no matter the cost. I could not bear the thought of you hating me for the rest of our days, knowing that I had taken the life of someone you loved. And so, I made a choice—

I directed Vhagar towards my brother's dragon, Sunfyre, and the two beasts collided with a force that even the sky seemed to shake. Meleys and Sunfyre engaged one another in a deadly dance of fire and blood, until finally, both dragons lay dead upon the ground.

Rhaenys and Aegon were badly injured in the battle, their bodies broken and battered by the violence that surrounded them. I knew that I could not allow Baela to suffer, and so I made her promise to escape, to take her grandmother and leave before it was too late.

With all my love and devotion,

Aemond.

-

My Love,

Aegon's injuries have rendered him unfit to rule, and I have been crowned Prince Regent in his stead.

But with this newfound authority comes a clash of wills and ideologies. My grandsire, the one who should be guiding me through these turbulent times, insists that we attack Dragonstone, that we strike at the heart of our enemies and crush them once and for all. But I cannot ignore the voice of reason that whispers in the back of my mind, urging caution and restraint.

He claims that my love for you clouds my judgment, that I am incapable of making rational decisions when it comes to matters of the heart. But he does not understand, Vaelys—he does not see the strength and courage that you have instilled within me, the unwavering support and love that sustains me through even the darkest of times.

I will not be some puppet king to be manipulated and controlled. I will not bow to the whims of others, no matter how powerful or influential they may be. I will do things my way, Vaelys, for the good of our family and the future of our house.

With all my love,

Aemond.

-

My Vaelys,

The news of your poisoning has left me reeling, my mind consumed by thoughts of vengeance and justice for the harm that has been done to you and our unborn child.

I cannot begin to express the depth of my sorrow, Vaelys, for the loss of the babe you carried, the child that we would never know. The weight of that loss weighs heavy on my heart, a burden that I fear I will carry with me for the rest of my days. But know this—you are not alone in your grief, my dear wife. I am here for you, now and always.

It took many weeks for you to heal, Vaelys, both physically and emotionally, but you did. And yet, even as you found the strength to carry on, I could not shake the rage that burned within me, the need for vengeance against those who had wronged us.

I have found the ones responsible, and I have dealt with them accordingly. Larys Strong, the snake who orchestrated this vile act—he is dead, his life snuffed out by my own hands. I watched as the light faded from his eyes, a small measure of justice for the pain and suffering he caused. And yet, even as I sought vengeance against him, I could not bring myself to end the life of my own mother. She has been locked away in her chambers, to face the consequences of her actions in solitude and shame.

But my sweet wife, the pain and loss you have endured—I swore to keep you safe, to protect you from harm, and yet I have failed. I cannot bear the thought of you suffering any longer, Vaelys, and I will do whatever it takes to ensure that you are safe and protected from harm.

With all my love and devotion,

Aemond.

-

My Love,

I cannot begin to express the depth of my sorrow, Vaelys, for leaving you vulnerable to my brother's disgusting actions, for failing to protect you from harm when you needed me the most.

I should have been there for you, Vaelys. I should have stood by your side and shielded you from the darkness.

I killed him, struck my sword straight through his throat. Gods, there was so much blood, so much pain and suffering that could have been avoided if only I had been stronger, braver, better.

But you are safe now, Vaelys.

With all my love,

Aemond.

-

My Vaelys,

I have written to Rhaenyra and informed her of Aegon's death, knowing full well that she will come to take her place on the Iron Throne. And when she does, I know that my time will most likely come to an end, by the blade, Dark Sister.

I keep a brave face on in front of you and our daughter, for I know that you both deserve nothing less. But inside, I am filled with a sense of resignation, knowing that my fate is sealed yet strangely, there is a sense of peace that accompanies this knowledge, a sense of contentment that I have finally done what is right by you and our daughter.

I know that my actions may have cost me my life, Vaelys, but I do not regret them. For in the end, all that matters to me is that you are safe and protected from harm. I would gladly lay down my life for you, my dear wife, and for our daughter, knowing that I have fulfilled my duty as a husband and a father.

So as we await the arrival of Rhaenyra and the inevitable confrontation that will follow, know that I face death with a sense of calm and acceptance. For even in death, I will find solace in the knowledge that I have done what is right, and that you are safe and loved beyond measure.

With all my love and devotion,

Aemond.

-

My Vaelys,

I did not expect to live. When your father's blade was poised to strike me down, I resigned myself to my fate, prepared to meet my end with a sense of calm and acceptance. But then you, my fierce and determined wife, stepped in to save me once again, casting yourself between me and the blade, risking your own life to protect mine.

And for that, I am eternally grateful. Your love has saved me in more ways than one, and I will spend the rest of my days repaying that debt to you, however I can. But alas, it seems that fate had other plans for me, for I soon found myself being locked away, stripped of my weapons and bound in chains, awaiting judgement for my crimes.

When the time came for my judgement, my heart broke at the thought of being separated from you and our daughter for two long years. To be exiled from your side, to miss out on watching Sovia grow and flourish, it is a punishment far greater than any I could have imagined.

But know this, my dear wife—I will endure this exile with a sense of resolve and determination, knowing that it is a small price to pay for the love and happiness that you have brought into my life. And when the time comes for us to be reunited once again, I will hold you and our daughter in my arms and never let you go.

With all my love and devotion,

Aemond.

-

My Dearest Love,

As I sit down to write to you now, the memories of our final night together weigh heavily on my heart. There was no better way to spend it than with you and our sweet daughter.

The joy of hearing her say her first word, 'Da-Da' filled me with a sense of warmth and happiness that I will carry with me always.

But as the night grew quiet and the world around us fell into darkness, I found myself consumed by a hunger that could not be sated. The thought of being separated from you, my beloved wife, for two long years filled me with a sense of unrestrained longing, an ache that echoed in the depths of my soul.

And so, in the quiet of our chambers, I was unrestrained and ravenous, my appetite for you unyielding. I wanted to memorize every curve and contour of your body, to imprint the taste of your lips upon my own, knowing that it would be the last time we would share such intimacy for a long time to come.

I will miss you, Vaelys, more than words can express. I will miss the sound of your laughter, the touch of your hand, the warmth of your embrace. My heart is broken at the thought of being away from you, from Sovia, for so long.

But know this, my dear wife—I will carry you both with me always, in my heart and in my thoughts, as I endure this exile and await the day when we can be reunited once again. Until then, know that I love you more than words can say, and that not a moment goes by that I do not long for your presence by my side.

With all my love and devotion,

Aemond.

-

My Love,

As I sit here in this lonely exile, the emptiness around me echoes the despair in my heart. Each passing day feels like an eternity without you by my side, and the longing for your presence consumes me like a relentless flame.

My heart breaks at the thought of being separated from you, my beloved wife, for such a long period of time. The pain of our separation is a constant companion, a heavy burden that weighs me down with every passing moment.

I cannot help but wonder if our sweet Sovia will even remember me when I return. Will she still recognize the sound of my voice, the touch of my hand? The thought of being a stranger to my own daughter fills me with a sense of sorrow and regret that cuts me to the core.

But I know that I must endure, my dear Vaelys, for the sake of our family and our future together. This exile is a cruel punishment, but I will not let it break me. I will hold onto the hope of our reunion, the promise of a brighter tomorrow when we can be together once again.

Until that day comes, know that you are always in my thoughts and in my heart. I yearn for the day when I can hold you in my arms again, to feel the warmth of your embrace and the love that binds us together.

With all my love and devotion,

Aemond.

-

My Queen,

It has been far too long since I last put ink to paper to write to you, my love.

In the years that have passed, our lives have been filled with both joy and sorrow, triumphs and challenges. But through it all, one thing has remained constant—the love that binds us together, unbreakable and enduring.

We have been blessed with more children, Daevyn, Aemon, and Rekara have brought immeasurable joy into our lives, their laughter filling our halls with warmth and light. To see them grow and flourish under your care fills my heart with pride and gratitude, knowing that they are the legacy of our love.

And now, to see you crowned as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, with me by your side as your King Consort—it is a dream that I never dared to imagine would come true. To think that we have come so far, to stand together as rulers of our realm, united in purpose and devotion—it is a testament to the strength and resilience of our love.

My dear Vaelys, as I write these words to you now, I am filled with a sense of awe and gratitude for the life that we have built together. Through all the trials and tribulations that we have faced, you have been my rock, my guiding light, my source of strength and inspiration. I am eternally grateful for your love, my queen, and I pledge to stand by your side always, as your devoted husband and loyal consort.

With all my love and devotion,

Aemond.

-

My Love,

I write to you now with a heart full of joy and anticipation, for we are soon to become grandparents. The thought of welcoming a new generation into our family fills me with a sense of wonder and awe, and yet, I cannot help but wonder if I am truly old enough to bear such a title.

The prospect of becoming a grandfather both thrills and terrifies me. I find myself wondering if I will be able to live up to the expectations that come with such a role, if I will be able to offer our grandchild the love and guidance that they deserve.

As I reflect on my own journey as a father, I cannot help but feel a sense of uncertainty. I tried my best to be there for our children, to offer them the support and guidance that they needed to flourish, but there were times when I feared that it was not enough. And now, as I prepare to take on the role of a grandfather, I can only hope that my efforts as a father have laid the foundation for success.

But amidst all the uncertainty, one thing remains clear—I am filled with a sense of love and excitement at the prospect of welcoming our grandchild into the world. I know that with you by my side, my dear Vaelys, we will navigate this new chapter of our lives together, with love and devotion guiding our way.

With all my love and anticipation,

Aemond.

-

My Vaelys,

The loss of your brother Jacaerys weighs heavily upon me, a sacrifice that I feel unworthy of and one that has left me grappling with emotions I scarcely know how to express.

Jace and I have never been close, our relationship strained by the circumstances of our birth and the paths our lives have taken. Yet, in the midst of battle on the Stepstones, he chose to give his life to save mine. It is a decision that confounds me, for I cannot fathom why the bastard boy would make such a sacrifice for me.

As I ponder his actions, I am forced to confront a truth that I have long denied: Jace was a man of incredible bravery. Despite our differences, despite the enmity that often lay between us, he showed a courage and nobility in his final moments that I cannot ignore. Though I would never admit it aloud, I have come to respect him deeply for that.

His sacrifice leaves me feeling unworthy, Vaelys. I question what it is about me that merited such a noble act, and whether I will ever be able to live up to the honour he bestowed upon me. The burden of his death is a heavy one to bear, and I fear that I may never fully understand his motives or reconcile myself to his loss.

Yet, amidst this turmoil, I find solace in your presence, my love. You have always been my anchor, and I am grateful for the strength you provide.

With all my love and sorrow,

Aemond.

-

My Love,

Never in my wildest imaginings did I think I would find myself in the position I was mere days ago, assisting you in bringing our newest child into the world. A hidden pregnancy, the Maester called it—something rare and unforeseen, yet it has blessed us with another precious life.

The shock of realizing that you were in labour was profound. We had no inkling that you were carrying another child, and I had thought my days of siring children were long behind me. Yet, as I held our tiny son in my arms for the first time, all I could feel was a profound sense of love and gratitude.

In that moment, there was only one name that came to mind: Jacaerys, in honour of your brave brother who sacrificed himself for me. Though Jace and I had our differences, his courage and nobility left an indelible mark on my heart, and it is only fitting that our son should bear his name.

As I write this, I am filled with a sense of wonder at the unexpected blessings that life continues to bestow upon us. Our family has grown once more, and I am grateful beyond words for the strength and resilience you have shown, my dearest Vaelys. You never cease to amaze me with your courage and grace, and I am honoured to walk this path alongside you.

With all my love and admiration,

Aemond.

-

My Vaelys,

I write to you today with a heart full of both pride and concern for our grandson, Vhalarr. He is a remarkable boy, and it has become increasingly clear that he possesses a rare gift—a gift that both intrigues and troubles me deeply. Helaena believes he is an exceptionally gifted dragon dreamer.

However, it is precisely this gift that burdens my heart with worry. The dreams Vhalarr experiences are vivid and often disturbing, filled with images and premonitions that a boy of his age should not have to bear. Helaena assures me that in time, he will learn to make sense of what he sees, but until then, it is a heavy burden for one so young.

I find myself questioning how we can best support and guide him through this challenging period. The weight of such visions is immense, and I fear for the toll it might take on his young mind and spirit. It is a rare and precious gift, but one that comes with its own set of trials and responsibilities.

I hope that with our guidance and love, he will grow into his gift and learn to wield it with wisdom and strength.

With all my love and determination,

Aemond.

-

My sweet Vaelys,

It has been many years since I last wrote to you, and I find myself almost at a loss for words, so accustomed have I become to sharing my heart with you face to face. But today is a day of such significance that I feel compelled to return to the written word, if only to capture the depth of my emotions.

Our son Jacaerys is getting married today, and not to one, but to two loves—Vhalarr and Saeryna. This is a union that not seen since the days of Aegon the Conqueror, and I find myself reflecting on the weight of this moment. To think that our son, born in such unexpected circumstances, would come to embody such a rare and profound love is beyond anything I could have imagined.

The wedding of Jacaerys, Vhalarr, and Saeryna fills my heart with both pride and hope. I see in them a bond that is both strong and true, a love that mirrors the unity and strength we have always strived for in our own marriage. Yet, I cannot help but recall the history of Aegon, Rhaenys, and Visenya, and the challenges they faced in their unique union.

I pray that their marriage will be filled with harmony and understanding, that the love they share will fortify them against any trials they may face. Our world has changed much since the days of the Conqueror, and I believe that with our guidance and support, they can create a new legacy of love and unity.

You and I have walked a long and winding path together, Vaelys, and it is our enduring love that has been the foundation of our family. I see that same strength in our son and his spouses, and I am filled with hope that their journey will be one of joy and fulfilment.

As I watch them take their vows, I will be reminded of our own journey, the trials we have faced, and the love that has sustained us. I am grateful beyond words for the life we have built together, for the children and grandchildren we have raised, and for the love that continues to grow within our family.

With all my love and deepest hopes for the future,

Aemond.

-

My Vaelys,

I find myself struggling to put my thoughts into words, so great is the sorrow that fills my heart. The Maesters, with all their knowledge and skills, have been unable to find a cure for your ailment, and each day I see you grow weaker. It is a torment unlike any I have ever known, to watch the love of my life suffer and feel so helpless.

You have always been my strength, my guiding star, and the thought of losing you is unbearable. We have faced so much together, from the tumultuous days of war to the joys of raising our children and seeing them flourish.

I think back on our journey, the promises we made beneath the weirwood tree, the love that has only deepened with time. You have been my constant companion, my confidante, my everything.

You have given me so much, Vaelys—more than I could ever have hoped for. Our life together has been a tapestry of love and adventure, woven with threads of joy and sorrow, triumph and hardship. Even now, as you face this cruel illness, you remain a beacon of light and hope, reminding me of the beauty and resilience of the human spirit.

I pray each night for a miracle, for a cure that will restore you to health. But in the absence of such a miracle, I want you to know how deeply and completely I love you. You are my heart, my soul, my everything. I will be by your side, through every moment of this journey, offering you all the love and support I can.

If there is any solace to be found, it is in the knowledge that our love is eternal. No matter what happens, that love will endure, a testament to the bond we share. I am grateful for every moment we have had together and for the family we have built. Our love will live on in our children and grandchildren, a legacy of the extraordinary life we have shared.

With all my love and unwavering devotion,

Aemond.

-

My Vaelys,

You are gone, and my heart is shattered into a thousand pieces. Writing this letter feels like a cruel mockery, a way to pretend that you might still hear my words, though I know you never will.

You died in my arms, and as I held you in those final moments, a part of me died with you.

How do I live in a world where you do not exist? Every breath feels like a betrayal, every heartbeat a reminder that you are no longer here. I do not know how to carry on without you, nor do I want to. The very thought of facing each day without your presence, your smile, your love, is more than I can bear.

You were my everything, Vaelys. My strength, my joy, my reason for living. We built a life together, filled with love and memories that now feel like hollow echoes in your absence.

I do not know how to go on without you. I do not know how to wake up each morning and face a world that has lost its light. The days stretch out before me like an endless, empty void, each moment a reminder of what I have lost. I find myself longing for the end, for a way to be with you once more, wherever you may be.

Our children and grandchildren need me, I know this. They look to me for strength, for guidance, for the love that you and I built together. But how can I give them what I no longer possess? How can I be a father, a grandsire, a great grandsire when my own heart is broken and bleeding?

You were the best part of me, Vaelys. Without you, I am a hollow shell, a man bereft of purpose and joy. I miss you with every fibre of my being, and I curse the fates that took you from me. How cruel it is to love so deeply, only to have that love torn away.

I do not know how to live without you.

Until we meet again, my love, my heart, my everything.

Aemond.

-

My Darling,

Today we laid you to rest. The streets of King’s Landing were filled with people expressing their sorrow for our beloved Queen. Flower petals lingered in the air, and the city came to a standstill as they mourned you. It was a beautiful tribute, but it did nothing to ease the pain in my heart.

I could not bring myself to say the words for Vhagar to ignite the pyre. My tears were unending, and I felt as if my very soul was being torn apart.

Our daughter, Sovia, had to give the command. She stood there with such strength that I could not muster. Watching your pyre ignite and seeing the flames consume you was the hardest thing I have ever endured.

I feel lost without you.

Aemond.

-

My Vaelys,

I have watched our children, Sovia and Daevyn, be crowned as the new Queen and King of the realm. They are strong and capable, and I know they will rule wisely and justly. I have remained long enough to see our children ascend to the throne, to ensure that our legacy lives on. But now, I find that I cannot go on any longer.

The world without you is a place of unending sorrow and pain. Every breath I take feels like a betrayal, every heartbeat a reminder that you are no longer here. I have tried to be strong for our family, to carry on as you would have wanted me to, but I can no longer endure this agony. The weight of my grief is too much to bear, and the thought of living the rest of my days without you is unbearable.

I want to be with you, Vaelys. I long to hold you in my arms once more, to hear your voice, to feel your touch. The pain of your absence has hollowed me out, leaving nothing but a shell of the man I once was. I cannot cope with this emptiness, this aching void that consumes me every moment of every day.

Sovia and Daevyn are strong. They will thrive and continue our legacy, just as you would have wanted. I am so proud of them, and I know you would be too. But I cannot find solace in their achievements, not when the ache of your absence is a constant, gnawing pain.

The thought of continuing without you is more than I can bear. I want to die, Vaelys. I want to be with you once more, to find peace in your embrace. I do not fear death, not if it means I can be with you again.

Please forgive me for my weakness, for my inability to cope with this life without you. Know that I love you with all my heart, and that love is what sustains me even now. But it is not enough. I need you, Vaelys. I need to be with you.

Until we are reunited, know that you are always in my heart, my thoughts, my every breath. I love you now and forever.

Aemond.

-

My Vaelys,

I hear your voice. Soft, like a whisper carried on the wind, calling to me. At first, I thought it was merely my mind playing cruel tricks on me, but now I am certain. It is you. Are you calling to me, my love? Is my time near?

I am ready, Vaelys. I have lived my life, seen our children ascend to the throne, and watched over our family as best as I could.

Come for me, my love. I am ready. I am ready to leave this world behind and join you in whatever lies beyond.

Please, Vaelys, come for me. I am ready to follow your voice, ready to find the peace and happiness that I have been denied for so long. I love you now and forever, and I am ready to be with you once more.

Aemond.

"More, mama-“

Daenerys smiled tenderly down at her daughter, her heart swelling with love. "There is no more, my love," she replied gently, her voice a soothing melody in the quiet room of the Red Keep.

Closing the overflowing book, Daenerys held her daughter close, savouring the warmth of her embrace.

“He died of a broken heart, didn’t he?”

“Yes, my love," replied Daenerys, her voice soft with sorrow. "It was said that Aemond was a dragon who mourned the loss of his greatest treasure-that he couldn't exist without the other half of his soul."

A small smile tugged at the corners of the little girl's lips as she pondered her mother's words. "Maybe that's what my baby brother could be called," she said thoughtfully. "Aemond."

Daenerys' amethyst eyes softened as she looked down at her daughter, her heart swelling with love. "Aemond," she repeated, as she ran a hand over her round stomach.

"Vaelys,”

The little girl turned at the sound of her name, her face breaking into a radiant smile at the sight of her father.

"Daddy!" she exclaimed, reaching out her arms to him.

Jon scooped her up into his embrace, holding her close as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "How's my little princess?" he asked, his voice filled with tenderness.

"Mama was reading letters to me," Vaelys replied, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "And I had an idea for my brother's name."

Jon raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh? What's that, sweetheart?"

"Aemond," Vaelys said eagerly.

Jon's heart swelled with pride at his daughter. "Aemond," he repeated, testing out the name on his tongue. "I think that's a wonderful idea-after all we can’t have a Vaelys without her Aemond”.

THE END.

A.N - Apologise for the long fic, but I just couldn't seperate it and yes I cried.

[cinnabunwanda]

Not a choice pt. 1 ✰ Bucky Barnes⌇DRABBLES

content warning — swearing

pairing — Fem reader x Bucky Barnes

summary — when your brother, Steve Rogers, left you and everyone else for Peggy, the government appointed his replacement. After seeing an interview on TV, where you and John announced your relationship, Bucky isn't happy.

word count — 305

Bucky's face was flushed with rage as he towered over you, his eyes now a piercing blue that seemed to see straight through your soul. You could barely find the words to speak as his anger consumed you, leaving you feeling guilty and small. "I-I didn't mean to-" Your voice faltered, weighed down by the weight of your own actions as they crumbled in your mouth, like ash on a dry tongue.

"Steve's gone, I know it hurts," Bucky roared, his words laced with fury. "But just because he's not here doesn't give you permission to...to..." He struggled to form coherent sentences, his frustration evident in every word. "Steve never would have approved of John fucking Walker, y/n!" Bucky gestured with air quotes around the title, emphasizing his disdain for the new Captain America.

You hung your head in shame as Bucky scolded you, your stomach churning with dread. "I'm sorry," you finally said, hoping for some understanding from Steve's best friend.

"Sorry isn't good enough," Bucky sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. "I expected better from you. And so would Steve."

"You think just because you're my brother's best friend means you can control me?" You snapped back, shaking your head in disbelief. "No way, Bucky. No way." You pushed past him, ready to leave when he grabbed your arm.

You both stood there in tense silence, neither one willing to back down. Finally, Bucky spoke up again in a cracked voice. "I just want to know why," he pleaded.

"I didn't have a choice," you admitted with a heavy heart before pulling away from him and heading towards the door. You couldn't help but feel the weight of Bucky's disappointment and curiosity hanging heavily between the two of you like a thick fog, ready to suffocate any hope of reconciliation.

© CINABUNWANDA ⎯ do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.

[robertdowneyjjr]

HAPPY BDAYYYY !!! coincidentally it is also my mom's bday today lol, here's a lil buckytony for u !!!

which connects to my prompt: tony is used to feeling cold, he had to be (the cave was so cold in the death of the night) and he knows that bucky is, too, even if the man always seem to run hot due to the serum. well, it's the winter season, what better excuse does he have except that he needs a human blanket? basically tony holding hands, hugging, or cuddling bucky to fend off the cold !!

happy birthday again !!!

hello!!! i’m SO sorry this took practically half a year but i just want you to know that your art makes me so happy and seeing this in my inbox was one of the best gifts i could have asked for. bucky and tony are so fucking cute and i’m obsessed with bucky’s blush and tony’s eyelashes 🥰 i hope your mom also had a lovely time celebrating her birthday!!

anyway, without delaying this any further than i already have—

———

Bucky had never been able to feel anything with the heavy silver arm that was forced onto him, which made it useful as a shield as well as a blunt force weapon. It was perfect for the Winter Soldier, the unfeeling assassin whose sole existence was to comply orders and complete missions. Having it blown off may have been a shock at first, but it had quickly morphed into relief when Bucky had realized that losing the arm was the first real step towards finally, truly breaking free from the shackles of Hydra.

Since having his triggers removed and embarking on his slow journey towards recovery, Bucky has decided that he has no interest in fighting anymore, keen to stay home and monitor the feeds while the rest of the team is out being heroes. He’s happy to be retired, happy to uncover new things about himself as he learns how to bake croissants and build terrariums. It’s a kind of peace he never thought he’d be able to have when he was trapped for seventy years as a prisoner of war, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

So when he had been asked what he would like in a new prosthetic, Bucky had said, just a regular arm; no super strength, no nifty weapons hidden in the plates. Just a functional part of his body for him to get through his daily life.

Tony had gone above and beyond, presenting Bucky with a prosthetic that had far exceeded his expectations. Not only is the arm intuitive, with nanobots that shift like real muscle and fat as Bucky moves, but it is also regulated to match the rest of Bucky’s body in strength and temperature. If it had been painted a color to match Bucky’s skin, it would almost be indiscernible to a real arm.

Despite the prosthetic being made with the most advanced technology the world has to offer—despite all the cyborg jokes his friends like to tease him with—Bucky has never felt more human.

With the new arm, Tony hadn’t just given Bucky back a sense of normalcy. He’d also given Bucky a brighter future than he had ever dared to imagine.

He still remembers the day in the lab after they had run through their last series of tests with the new arm.

He had just put down the stress ball they used for the pressure test, still marveling at how he could feel the texture of the rubber, when Tony had spoken up.

“Okay. One last thing I’d like us to try. Hold your hand out?”

Bucky had done as he was asked, not quite sure what to expect, when Tony had reached out with his right hand and wound their fingers together. He hadn’t been able to hold back a gasp, staring at their joined hands as he felt the cold of Tony’s hand seeping through the warmth that he hadn’t realized was coming from his own arm. Then Tony had squeezed once, affectionately, stepping closer until they were only inches apart, and Bucky’s heart had stuttered in his chest as he glanced up and saw the way Tony had been smiling at him.

“How does this feel?” Tony had asked, red faintly dusting his cheeks in a way Bucky had been sure no one else had ever seen before.

Feeling whole and brave, and like the ice in his veins is finally starting to melt for the first time in decades, Bucky had gently squeezed back.

“Good. It feels nice. You feel nice.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I like it.”

“Well, good. You’re warm, so I think I’ll be holding on to you for a while. You know, just to stave off the cold,” Tony had declared.

“Sure thing, doll.”

Tony is tactile. That had been the first thing that Bucky learned about Tony when the team had been pardoned, made their amends with each other, and gone back to New York.

His touches are gentle and reassuring, drawing smiles from whoever he has focused his attention on at the moment. Rhodes leans into the hand that Tony brushes against his back as he walks by, for a moment relying on his friend’s strength instead of his leg braces. Natalia is a constant presence by Tony’s side during movie nights, bumping her head against his hand like a cat just so he would play with her hair. Peter beams like he’s aced a test every time Tony squeezes his shoulder affectionately after helping with his physics homework. Steve rolls his eyes fondly whenever Tony pokes his abs teasingly after a workout, but always teases right back by lifting his shirt up to goad Tony into doing it again.

Being touched by Tony is like a drug, and Bucky has been addicted since the first time Tony held his hand. Which is just as well, because when Tony said he would be holding on for a while, he wasn’t kidding.

After that first time in the lab, Tony always, always holds Bucky close when they’re together.

He takes Bucky by the hand and drags him to dinner with the team, never loosening his grip even when Sam raises a pointed eyebrow at their joined hands. “For warmth,” Tony says, and when he takes his place at the table, he promptly kicks Steve out of his usual spot because he refuses to release their entwined fingers. Bucky just watches amusedly as Steve takes his old seat next to Rhodes and sits down next to Tony, only letting go so he can scoot closer and swing his arm across the back of Tony’s chair as they eat.

He drapes Bucky’s left arm over his shoulder when they’re out, snuggling close to his side as they take the long way walking home after dinner. “For warmth,” Tony says, even though he’s wrapped up in several layers of expensive wool and cashmere. Bucky just pulls him in tighter and steers him towards their favorite gelato bar for dessert, because even though Tony runs cold and always claims he doesn’t like sweets, Bucky knows he’d never say no to ice cream.

He sleeps on the right side of the bed so he can use Bucky’s arm as another pillow, despite knowing the hard planes of metal can’t possibly be comfortable for him. “For warmth,” Tony says as he presses a kiss to Bucky’s reconstructed shoulder and dozes off under their weighted blanket made of the fluffiest down feathers. Bucky just smiles indulgently and curls in closer, perfectly happy to tolerate overheating in his sleep if it means going to bed every night with his favorite person in the world.

Having Tony in his arms warms him from the inside out, like an endless summer after a lifetime spent lost in the cold.

[konietzko-sylvoran]

Day 1 for May DWC 2024 Mysterious - Appearance

★ Backstage Glimpses at Hearts of Tenacity Fest ★

'It's for the show, I'd do anything for the show.' He thought to himself internally for the thirtieth time tonight. 'Elune please, I beg of you please make my nose stop itching.' Mind over matter Kon... you are tougher than this. You can get through this. "Bare with us a little longer Kon, how are you holding up in there?" A familiar voice said though his eyes were still closed. "I'm managing, but my arms are getting heavy." "Do you need us to get you some broom handles to hold onto?" The question brought a sense of hope. "NO! No we can't his palms haven't finished curing yet." A different yet also familiar voice exclaimed. And like that, his hope was gone in an instant and the weight of his arms grew even heavier. "I will be alright everyone, worry not." Kon said sounding calm and confident even if he was internally dying. Who'd have ever thought that being mostly naked with only a tight thong on his body would make him hotter than hell itself. Or course, he was also covered literally head to toe in high performance platinum silicone rubber specifically designed for creating silicone makeup and fake skin effects. Did the audience truly know how to appreciate the artwork that went into such special FX? Did they know how many hours one had to stand perfectly still while layer after layer was applied. Hours spent sculpting each wound, each scale on his body and each scar. The science behind creating certain spray molds and smooth casting. All the chemicals used and mixed perfectly and time spent letting them cure in their molds to later be applied to his body. All the talcum powder applied and the adhesive applied painstakingly to every inch of his body. Being forced to resist the urge to twitch when it tickled, to scratch when it itched, to move at all and risk an imperfection of something falling off or not sticking when it wasn't dry yet. Light forbid if you have to take a leak during all this, a bathroom break was NOT an option when this heavy of effects were applied. One had to risk dehydration from the moment they woke as they could not risk having a full bladder till the show was over. And even as the last of the prosthetics were finally applied, then come the hours of makeup to get the color and tone just right to make it more believable. So much so the audience would genuinely feel it was real as they quite literally could reach out and touch it. It was all for the visuals and the more real it looked, the more real it became. This was nothing Kon told himself, trying for a moment to just imagine what it would be like to become an Illidari in reality. To embrace the fel magics and your literal inner demon as your body is twisted and torn into something grotesque for the power and ability to fight fire with fire in the most literal of sense. What he was going through now paled in comparison to the real deal. But tell that to the literal STING in cheek DEMANDING to be itched. To the ache in his arms as they felt like 50 pound weights. To the crick in his back for standing still for so long without moving. To the throb in his feet as every muscle scream to move. To the... "TALTHORN!" Konietzko suddenly yelled, head jerking up from the backstage table it had been resting on. A few cotton balls stuck to his skin from the heat he'd generated in his short respite he'd unintentionally taken to get a little shut eye in the dressing room backstage before the big show tonight. His eyes wide with alert and darting around confused as he was ripped from his slumber so suddenly. "Sorry Kal'dalah, I didn't mean to wake you." The magi replied not too far behind him mid wince as he picked up the brush he'd just accidentally dropped from his own hand. "Damn thing got tangled in my hair." he whimpered trying to fix the tiniest of knots in his long well kept silver locks.

Still somewhat confused in his sudden wakefulness, Konietzko staggered out of his chair and went to Talthorn taking his hands a little desperately as he looked him in the eyes being rather dramatic. This was nothing new to his husband of course so he just laughed as he held Kon in return. "Pleeeaaaseee tell me you're going to use your magic to apply my Illidari makeup for Inner Beast's set tomorrow." Kon whined making Talthorn quip a brow. "Of course, do you doubt my talents love?" "NEVER!" Kon exclaimed as he breathed a breath of relief so big it was as if he'd been holding it all this time. "Thank Elune I married a magi." Talthorn laughed as he reached up to remove those cotton balls on his cheek. "You didn't marry me just because of my magic did you?" "Of course not Kal'dalah. Only -mostly- for your magic." Kon teased at him as he leaned in to kiss his husband holding him tight in a warm embrace with a deep smile curved along his lips. "GET A ROOM!" A shout cried followed by many giggles from the nearby doorway. A quick look and both saw a few of their fellow stars standing there watching them. "Why when being watched is soooo much better." Kon purred in his deep voice as he slid a finger down Talthorn's thigh then hooked his leg and raised it up around Kon's own thigh. Talthorn played along, pressing his body against his husband as he hit the onlookers with a look only this silver fox could pull off and that made many jealous of Kon's marriage to him in all honesty. The doorway filled with smug grins, laughter, a few yelps and even the sound of a few feet running away suddenly down the hallway of the backstage area. It filled the elves both with laughter of their own as they looked to one another once more. "Guess we'll just have to save it for the Talicious show." Kon teased as their leftover audience groaned their displeasure. What happened backstage at HoT Fest stayed at HoT Fest... or usually wound up on their stage in some form. Either way, noone ever complained.

@daily-writing-challenge @talthorn-sylvoran

[gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot]

My entry fo #Ghostchallenge, for @glitterypirateduck

Prompt 9. Alternate Universe

I want to dedicate this to my sweet anon that sends me fantastic asks all the time, actually this was born from one of them, when they asked me if my OC and Simon would have fallen in love in a civvilian setting.

Disclaimer: I use 3rd person but I tried to not describe her appearance further than being curvy. The render at the end is my own self service because after all, it's my OC

Tuesdays and Fridays were Simon’s favourite days at his butcher’s.

And the very reason why those were his favourite days just opened the door, with her usual radiant smile on her face that made his day, no matter how shitty it had been, all the better.

‘‘Good evening’’ Like a clock, every Tuesday and Friday after 6pm, when the hustle of the day had died down. Most likely when she got off work too.

‘‘Good evening, luv. I was about to close’’ Simon turned around to face the door, wiping his hands after taking his gloves off.

‘‘You say that every single time I come’’ She rolled her eyes with a small huff, still smiling. That time she only wanted a couple steaks and chicken breast, which was quite quick and easy to prepare as they chatted about the weather and the news.

One of the reasons his shop was still open and popular in the neighbourhood was that he closed a couple hours later than others. Why wouldn’t he? He had no one waiting at home. But thanks to that, people that worked late hours could still shop before going home.

‘‘Is that the nice girl from the museum? Remember you have a bag for her!’’ From the back room, Mrs Riley’s voice could be heard, and Simon wanted the ground to open and swallow him whole.

But the way she blushed made it all better.

‘‘A bag for me? But I didn’t order anything’’

‘‘No, I… kept bones from this week. For your dogs’’ Christ, he sounded lame. Was he sweating? He hoped not. ‘‘Are you still volunteering at the animal shelter?’’

‘‘Oh!’’ The way her whole face lit up with her smile had him weak in the knees. Pretty little thing, all soft curves and sweet eyes that made him feel like wanting to drown in them. ‘‘You’re so kind, you shouldn’t have…’’

‘‘It’s nothing, beautiful’’ Simon saw with satisfaction how she blushed again. The first time he had called her a pet name without thinking, couple months ago, she had gone red like a damn strawberry, and it had been so cute that he couldn’t help but test new ones every time she came into the shop, until he settled for the ones that seemed to have more reaction.

‘‘Is it very heavy?’’ She looked concerned for a second, but he just laughed, shaking his head.

‘‘It is, but I didn’t pretend you to carry it all the way to your house, luv. I’ll bring it over as a delivery, if that’s ok’’

‘‘Ah… yes, it is ok, but…’’ Fucking hell, the way she chewed her lower lip. Thank God the counter was high enough to hide his lower half.

‘‘What is it, beautiful?’’

‘‘I… moved last month’’ She looked down, brushing a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. ‘‘So I guess I should give you my new address?’’

‘‘That’d be useful’’ Simon nodded, opening the book where he wrote down his client’s addresses for delivery. After finding her surname, he wrote down the new address as she dictated it, still flustered. ‘‘All set then. When do you wish to schedule the delivery?’’

‘‘Oh, I… have no preference’’ She shrugged, with a small smile that tore at his heart. ‘‘If I’m not at work or at the shelter I’m always home’’

‘‘I’d prefer to be able to schedule it if you don’t mind, just in case…’’ Simon looked down at her over the counter, his mobile phone in hand. ‘‘Would it be best to call beforehand?’’

She nodded, like in a daze, and took her own phone out so they could exchange numbers.

‘‘Let’s hope the boyfriend won’t get angry when I call’’ Simon chuckled, saving her phone number as Her. She looked up from her own screen, her eyes wide.

‘‘There’s… no boyfriend’’

‘‘No?’’ He couldn’t believe it. Leaning over the counter, he cocked his head to one side. ‘‘Husband?’’

‘‘No’’ She was blushing again, but didn’t seem offended. He tried his luck once again.

‘‘Girlfriend or wife?’’

‘‘No’’ Now she laughed. With a quiet, shy giggle that she covered with one hand, and made his own smile widen.

‘‘Pretty sweet thing like you single, something is very wrong in this world’’

Oh, the way she blushed. He wondered if she’d look like that, every single morning while waking up in tangled sheets, bright eyes and messy hair, covered in sweat and kisses.

Trying to shake his unspeakable fantasies off, he placed her order on the counter, neatly wrapped and in a paper bag.

‘‘I’ll schedule the delivery for tomorrow evening after I close, is that ok?’’

‘‘Yes, of course, but…’’ She seemed to hesitate, chewing her lip again. And brushing her hair back again. He had noticed in the latest weeks that it was something she did often when flustered or nervous. ‘‘Tomorrow is Saturday… don’t you have… plans for the evening? After work?’’

‘‘Nah, just watching the game with my brother at home, most likely’’ Simon shrugged, oblivious to the way her shoulders fell a bit. ‘‘You know how it is. Beers at home and yelling at the goalie’’

‘‘Sure… well, I should get going before it gets darker’’ She smiled again, and waved at Simon’s mum when she came into view from the back room. ‘‘Bye, Mrs. Riley. Bye, Simon, thank you’’

‘‘Bye, sweetheart’’ Mrs. Riley smiled and waved, before turning to her youngest son the second the door closed. ‘‘I sure didn’t raise you to be this daft’’

‘‘What?’’ Simon looked at his mum, flabbergasted. What did he do now? ‘‘What did I do?’’

‘‘That new address of hers, is from the other side of town, you absolute idiot’’ The woman sighed, a bit dramatically, slapping her son’s arm. ‘‘She moved almost an hour away and still comes to buy meat from you. How oblivious can you be?’ Oh, and she asks you what are you doing Saturday night and you tell her you’re watching a match?? Oh, I’m going to disown you’’

Simon blinked, horrified. Fucking hell. Oh, Jesus Christ.

Mrs. Riley watched in amusement as her son bolted out of the door, shaking her head before starting to clean the counters.

[everysongineverykey]

genuinely how can you listen to mother love by queen and not come back a changed person.

[ziipzeepzop-eez]

S'much as I hate funerals, virtual or in person, I'm grateful for the opportunity to see you off.

The losses may be plentiful, but if there's one thing it taught me: it's strength.

Avoidance? Repression? Numbness? A foreign body giving themselves to protect their own.

How much longer will it hurt? It hurts and hurts until it can't anymore. Then, when you feel coherent again, it slams into your side. Your blind side.

Maybe all these things. But I feel strong and coherent right now, if only a little dead, a little broken, a little stop hurting me please inside.

Bless you. Thank you.

I love you.

(I'm sorry we couldn't be there, uncle. Rest gently. We'll honor you the same way you honored our clan.)

[the-jam-to-the-unicorn]

Because the week wasn't sad enough, there had to be a new Lenny interview that broke my heart a lot more. 🥺😭🥲

[brawlqueen]

triggers: implied abuse, implied neglect.

PERSONALS DNI.

Mizuki route we’re in it now it gives so much subtext / context to Mizuki’s feelings you only truly get here, all of it. Mizuki fully knowing what a family can be, Mizuki grappling with loyalty to her abusive/ toxic family while realizing her family in Date, her truest sense is him, and finally breaking down? Not shying from how much pain no person should bear but she has? And she’s 12 but not diminishing her for it. All of it is laid on the table. It doesn’t shirk away. Personally, it shouldn’t. Mizuki is a fighter and capable of such vulnerability and so, so human.

How she doesn’t stop loving her biological family but recognizes they couldn’t be a healthy family when so much of her route she was in denial and a mixture of acceptance. And then finally that little step in Date’s Somnium Mizuki takes, not him, for herself, to choose him and run towards that ridiculous detective and not him convince her to grasp a healthier environment.. but Mizuki came to the conclusion of her own choice.

And she’ll never forget being an Okiura. A part of her always will be! It’s part of her, erasing that would be wrong. Good and bad things happen, even unspeakable things. It’s still possible in someone’s life. And in the beginning there are implications that things didn’t get to that horrifying point! Still not ideal, but a few precious memories .

Good, bad, traumatic feelings and indescribable feelings… she won’t stop loving them. But she is going to continue her life. She chose to, and that little step changed her life for the better by her own volition. She needs for her sake, to learn herself.

Just one little step but it created the Date family: “ It has to be you.” And Mizuki Date is born, without letting go of Mizuki Okiura. BOTH exist. One is her past to carry, the other her future to grow.

Mizuki chose how she wanted her family to be like, an ordinary family, and how to be treated, not Date, even if his love for her did so much, and I feel I’m going to be writing so many essay like analysis on them and their relationship because it's so crucial to both of them. So much I want to delve into beforehand also and handle it with care, as the topics deserve.

Just.. Mizuki .

[iicarused]

##come back to me

ex!vox x reader / alastor x reader (in reality he stole vox’s bitch)

part i

synopsis: you’re getting tired of the radio demon

beware: heavy yandere aspects, heavy obsession, implications of manipulation, reader just not having a break

whenever he looked at you, gazed upon your form, they were always so gentle. the embodiment of love and infatuation were behind them, as he wouldn’t be able to hide it even if he tried.

alastor won’t lie, he first started talking with you out of spite from his rival. you were in a vulnerable state at the time, and my, did you spill most of vox’s secrets behind closed doors! alastor came to you just to talk heavy shit about vox in hindsight.

although, it would be a lie if he said he wasn’t catching a genuine interest in your own stories and interests. it took time but he did fall for the aspect that you are one of a kind: little did he know, you came from the era of his circle. it was like it was meant to be.

“my dear, if you do not want to deal with a rodent like him, give me the word and he will be gone.” “don’t you lift your pretty finger, i will take care of him.” “you’re so cute when you try and take control — we both know he will not listen to your word — it’ll just make him more starved.” this is where you began to hear vox behind his words

they’re were laced and very similar. the contrast was that alastor seemed more confident in his words, almost like he expected you to listen to his statements when there wasn’t a choice. at first, you didn’t want to believe it. the radio demon was far different from the man you called an ex

just like last time, you felt suffocated in your own space. you felt small, but this time you caught the signs before it could go any further. alastor didn’t appreciate that, especially since you took the lead more often.

you had to take a break, just a simple break, even for an hour. you wanted to get as far as you possibly could from that demon for even a fragment of time. husk caught a glimpse of you leaving on a dark night, but he only nodded at you before continuing on with his task.

getting away from one demon was one thing, hiding from two was another. you were fully aware that alastor would know of your absence soon enough, as that cannibal never seemed to sleep. although, you could only stay out of the streets for so long in hopes that vox hadn’t noticed.

you found yourself straying into a bar, for the bouncer happened to be an old friend to let you in even when the place was at max. in the far corner of the building where a busted light hung over your head, never to be replaced or fixed since months ago. your gaze fixated on the shitty drink some guy handed you in the crowd, and it was evidently spiked from how it fizzed.

“and i thought that wretched hotel was your haven.” your gaze picked up to find vox standing over you. he picked at his sleeve. “seat taken?”

too exhausted to care, you beckoned for him to take the seat. “not like today could get any worse.” you pushed your drink to the side, raising a hand before he could speak. “don’t begin on your excuses, not tonight.”

“sweet hells, what happened to you?” oh, how you missed the gentleness of his voice. you missed the way how he gazed at you at this very moment — it was specific and genuine — you never fell out of love with him. just… distanced yourself from it. “i swear to fuck if it’s that demon, i will—“

“vox, it’s fine.” your hand came over his. “it’s whatever, not like you could just get in that hotel without getting tossed across the pentagram.”

those heart pupils that adorned his eyes finally shown, and that’s when you remembered why you had to get away from him. “sweetheart, i don’t understand why you won’t come back to me — come back home where i know you’re safe and well.”

it’s almost like a sixth sense to know that the answer you’re about to give him will result in a temper tantrum. so you decided against it. “i have to go.”

“y/n, please, this is the only time we get to talk, don’t go! i promise to make it better, i—“

he lost you in the crowd.

returning back to the hotel at the dawn of a new day was almost a mistake. a hand came to pinch the bridge of your nose the moment alastor came to your side.

to your surprise, he didn’t ask a thousand questions. instead, he went on with hoping your night out went well and to alert him next time. though, there was a hint of something else behind his tone you couldn’t figure out.

just like any other day, you both gardened the plants that are scattered along the building. making breakfast that involves fresh meat and a fine cup of tea.

is it too late to add that you’re getting used to this? it’s suffocating, yes, but alastor seems to make it more bearable.