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pedroshotwifey · 1 day

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Trouble in Paradise (Part One)

Pairing: DBF!Joel Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: Of all the things you thought you might be doing on your summer break, falling in love with your father's best friend in Hawaii wasn't one of them.

Tags/Warnings: Nothing crazy yet! Some kind of maybe tension, pet names, talk of Joel knowing reader since she was small, reader has a dad, mom is not mentioned, yadayada

A/N: Hello my friends! I'm terribly sorry I've been away for so long. There have been a lot of...unsavory happenings lately. Want to say sorry in advance because I know this isn't my best writing, but i'm trying to get back into the groove of things. I'm hoping I'll be back to my scheduled programming (TTF, FB, answering requests) by the time this short series is done. Expecting it to be around 3-5 parts. Thank you so much for sticking with me <3

*******

You’ve been laying in your bed blasting your “chill” playlist through your earbuds since you got home from school around five. The last exhausting day of your freshman college year. Lana Del Rey, Cigarettes After Sex, Hozier, and the like have been floating lazily through your head as you watched the sun go down.

After a long day, you’d hung your head off the foot of your bed, intent to bask in the golden glow of the evening in a baggy T and your underwear until your eyes shut for the night. You were almost asleep when you were interrupted by a sound that didn’t quite go with “Wicked Game”.

You yank your earbuds out, sitting up on your bed. You don’t remember it getting so dark. Your cracked window allows the late summer breeze in to gently rustle the curtains framing it. Crickets and cicadas chirp loudly outside, creating a symphony to compliment the stars shining through the inky sky.

“Sweetheart?”

Your head swivels to look accusingly at your closed door. The name was shouted from the stairway. Definitely your dad.

You roll your eyes but get out of bed. The clock on your nightstand tells you it’s 8:02pm, so he’s probably calling you for dinner. You’ve told him before that it’s easier just to call your cell, but when has he ever listened? You pad to your door, crack it, and shout back.

“Be down in a minute!”

Getting no response, you can only assume he heard you. You close your door back and pick up the polka-dotted pajama pants crumpled into a pile beside your bed. You tug them on through a yawn, almost tripping a few times before they’re on all the way.

You check your mirror before heading down. You look sleepy, not like it really matters. Your door creeks as you push it open again and make your way down the stairs. The soft carpet laid in the middle of the hardwood keeping your steps quiet. It’s about halfway to the kitchen that you hear a second voice to your father’s. It sounds vaguely familiar, and your heart skips a beat. Surely it’s not—

You climb down a few more steps and stop in your tracks at the sight of Joel Miller sitting at your dinner table. You haven’t seen him since at least your high school graduation. You’d harbored a small crush on him then, but that had to have been nothing compared to whatever the hell you’re feeling now. Your entire body seems to glow with some mix of embarrassment and surprise.

You really thought you’d gotten over this silly little crush. Then again, it’s hard to get over something like Joel Miller. High school boyfriends? Sure, no problem. But the classic DILF next door of a best friend your dad has isn’t so easy. He’s been a constant in your childhood, always kind and there for you even when your dad wasn’t. So, in other words, highly inappropriate for you to be so attached to.

It’s easy to say the years have been kind to him. He’s a few years older than your father, so probably about mid-forties now. He’s started to gray, a fine amount of silver peppered into his mousy brown hair. That beard of his has taken the brunt of it, though. That beard you’ve imagined between your thighs so many times.

His dark eyes seem to have become kinder thanks to the crow’s feet carefully etched into the corners. He’s wearing his signature T-shirt and worn jeans, his brown leather jacket and work boots likely disposed of near the front door.

He smirks as his brown eyes fall on your disheveled form, halted on the bottom step. You, in contrast to the god-like figure he’s sporting, must look like an absolute mess. Despite that fact, he looks at you almost in a different way than he used to. More intensely. It makes you resist the urge to squirm.

“Joel,” you finally manage to choke out. “Hi.”

Smooth, you think.

“Hey, trouble,” he returns, light amusement lacing his tone. It makes you nervous, like he’s clocked your little secret.

He gets up from his seat, and you can tell he’s going for a hug. You shock yourself into action and take the few steps to reach him. He envelops you in his strong arms just like he used to, and you take the opportunity to breathe in his scent. Smokey pine, whiskey, and a hint of mint—just like you remember.

You’re smiling like an idiot despite yourself as you pull away. Luckily, your dad makes an appearance before you say something embarrassing.

“Hey, sleeping beauty,” he teases. “You remember my buddy Joel, dontch’a?”

Joel scoffs before you can answer. “‘Course she remembers me, Scott, known her since she was damn near in diapers.”

Your dad rolls his eyes. “Well, just to ask,” he argues.

You shake your head. Same banter between those two for as long as you can remember. They’ve been friends since your dad’s freshman highschool year, and Joel’s senior. Everyone who knows Joel and Scott considers them to be brothers as much as Joel and Tommy.

Cheeks heated, you make your way to the bathroom to freshen up while they’re distracted. You shut the door and comb through your hair with your fingers, straighten your tank top, and wipe away the smudged mascara you didn’t care to wash off earlier.

When you look half-decent, you wash your hands and walk back to the dining room, choosing to ignore the fact that you just tidied yourself for your dad’s best friend. Totally normal thing to do, right?

Joel is sitting back in the same spot as you found him the first time, your dad in the seat opposite of him. There are three bowls of spaghetti served, one in front of each man, and one beside Joel. You’re not going to complain about that.

You slide into the seat next to him, flashing him a quick smile when he turns his head to acknowledge you. You swear his gaze lingers for a second, but it’s probably just wishful thinking.

You look away and dig into your food, zoning out as Joel and your dad talk about work. Joel’s presence beside you fuels your daydreaming, his deep, drawling voice keeping it running. You wish so badly to lean into him, feel the comfort of his embrace. Maybe more. You wish, not for the first time, that he would look at you the way you looked at him. You wish he would—

You jolt when you hear your name in conversation, your spaghetti-filled fork halfway to your mouth.

“No, I don’t think she’d mind at all, would’ya, honey?”

Your dad looks expectantly at you. Your eyes dart between him and Joel.

“Uh, sorry, what?” You ask, your cheeks heating for the second time tonight.

“Helping Joel out. I know it’s been some years, but it’s just basic stuff. Plus, it’ll be in—”

“Really, Scott, you don’t have to volunteer her if she don’t want to—”

“No, no,” you interrupt. “I don’t mind at all.”

In all honesty, you didn’t think your answer through. You have no idea what you just signed up for. Though, if it’s with Joel, it can’t be too bad.

“No, really, sweetheart,” Joel interjects. “I wouldn’t wanna have a pretty ‘lil’ thing workin’ away on her summer vacation.”

You turn to look at him, flashing him your sweetest eyes. He called you pretty—you feel like you might explode. “I really don’t mind.”

He waits for a moment before he clears his throat and turns back to your dad. “Alright then,” he says before taking a sip of his drink. “We leave for Hawaii next Tuesday.”

You just about choke on your dinner. Your dad laughs.

“Told you, Joel, she doesn’t listen to a damn thing we say.”

*****

Hawaii? For two weeks? With Joel? What do you even pack?

You stare at your suitcase, waiting for your closet to help you out and throw something in there. Should you bring sundresses or work clothes? Both, right? Probably both. Maybe more work clothes. You said you’d be helping, after all. But with what?

God, you should have just paid attention to that damn conversation.

It’s late Monday night, and you haven’t been able to pick up on enough over-the-phone conversation to get the gist of it. You need to stop being such a wuss and just ask. But that would mean calling Joel. Do you really want to call Joel?

Well, yes, of course you do. But do you really want to sound awkward around Joel? No, no you don’t. And you know that’s exactly what would be happening over the phone with a man you’ve never talked over the phone with.

You groan, flopping yourself onto your bed to stare at your ceiling and overthink. You don’t want to overpack, because you don’t want Joel to see that you overpacked. But you also don’t want to underpack, because you don’t want Joel to see that you underpacked, either. This really shouldn’t be that hard. You’re about to get back up, say screw it, and throw a mixture in there, when you hear a knock on your door.

“Come in,” you call, unmoving.

“Hey, honey,” your dad says as he creeps in. “Just got off the phone with Joel.”

You sit up at this. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, he figured you might want some advice on what to pack.”

Oh thank God.

“Said he’s gonna be puttin’ you to work, but to bring some pretty clothes if you want. There’s a pool at the place you’ll be workin’ at, and a beach nearby.”

You nod along, thanking all that is holy that Joel had the idea to give you some input.

Your dad eyes your empty suitcase and raises a brow in your direction.

“He’ll be here around 4:00am, so be ready by then.” He looks back at you. “I love you, sweetheart, I’ll see you when you get back.”

He gives you a hug and closes your door.

You take Joel’s advice and pack mostly for work—with a few pretty things just in case.

*****

As expected, Joel’s truck is in your driveway at 4:00am on the dot. You’re in the passenger seat and headed for the airport by 4:03.

The ride is less tense than you thought it would be, mostly because the two of you are so tired. You’re practically in a coma against the window, the dull classic country music playing quietly from the old truck’s speakers lulling you to sleep. Joel is in about the same mindset, the lazy drumming of his fingers against the wheel the only thing convincing you he’s still awake.

Buildings pass in a dark blur, everything mushed together into one big half-dream. Joel’s scent fills the cab, sealing the state you’re in. You glance at the clock: 4:48. You blink, and it’s 5:20, the truck is stopped at the airport, and Joel is gently nudging you awake. You squint at him, the cab light rudely intruding, and you can just barely make out the faint smile on his lips. You have a strong urge to lean forward and kiss him, but thankfully you’re conscious enough to not make a complete fool of yourself right now.

“C’mon, darlin’, we got a plane to catch.”

You nod, trying to get your bearings. Joel slides out of his side of the truck, and you follow out of yours, getting a good stretch in before leaning back into the cab and retrieving your suitcase from the narrow backseat. When you make your way around the truck to Joel, he gently grabs it from your hand.

You look at him, mouth open and ready to argue, but he gives you a look that makes you shut it just as quick. Your stomach flutters at the gesture, and you kind of want to slap him for it. Or maybe yourself. Either way, you keep close to him until you’re entering through the sliding doors out front.

It only takes about an hour to get through TSA and in line to board the plane, but you’re wide awake by then. And hungry.

“Hey Joel,” you whisper. He hums at you but doesn’t look down.

“I’m hungry.”

Now he looks at you. “I don’t think we got time to grab anything now, darlin’, but we should have a layover at LAX in about three hours. Think you can hold tight ‘till then?”

You nod, trying not to overthink the conversation. It was literally a few words exchanged between the two of you, but it might be the first time you’ve conversed alone outside of your dad’s house. It felt domestic to you in a way that makes you feel like an idiot. It was one conversation.

Of course, you have to ruin the moment by humming “Party in the USA”. I mean, it’s Joel’s fault. He was the one to mention LAX.

He laughs and nudges you. “Quit that,” he commands, though you can tell he thinks it’s funny. You giggle but indulge him.

“Fine,” you draw out. “Somebody hates fun.”

He scoffs another laugh, but says nothing.

Finally, the two of you are next to board. You stop around the middle of the plane, and Joel hoists your bags into the compartment above your seats. Then, he moves aside to let you in first.

“By the window, darlin’,” he says.

You smile with excitement and settle in, Joel sitting next to you a second later.

“Your dad said somethin’ about it bein’ your first time flyin’, so I figured you might want a window seat,” he explains.

Your heart warms at this. Why does he have to be so thoughtful?

“Thank you, Joel,” you say genuinely, flashing him a smile. It may be the lighting, but you swear you see his cheeks pink up just a little before he nods and faces forward.

The flight goes by relatively quickly. Joel does some sort of paperwork on the little desk in front of him, and you pop your earbuds in and listen to a downloaded playlist while you read. The light romance you chose was cute, but it failed to distract you completely from the hunk of man beside you.

You’re not sure how many times you caught yourself staring at the flex of his wrist as he wrote whatever down. It was maybe once or twice that your eyes found their way up to his bicep, possibly a few times that they landed on his lower lip, his teeth bitten into it in concentration. You definitely got heated more times than you would’ve liked. And as your book started heating as well, you had to put it down. You really hope it’s not just you that feels this new tension.

For the last twenty minutes or so, you’ve been looking out the window, content to listen to your music and watch the land go by. For the last five, you’ve felt Joel’s eyes on you. You refuse to look back at him, though, just in case it’s your imagination.

But you swear you can feel the weight of his stare. You fidget, trying to ignore the feeling as you stare out the window and at the clouds. Then you hear a sharp sound from the speakers

through your earbuds.

You take them off and look back at Joel as the pilot informs you that you should be landing in about ten minutes.

He was staring at you, and he didn’t look away. You don’t look away now, either. You don’t say anything.

“Thank you for comin’ with me, darlin’.”

You’re taken aback. Of course you would go with him.

“It’s no problem, Joel,” you say. He gives you a short smile. “I mean, really,” you joke. “You’re the one taking me on a free vacation.”

He smiles fully this time and rolls his eyes. He tends to do that a lot with you. It makes you smile too.

The speaker dings again:

“Should be some light turbulence, but we’ll be on the ground soon, folks.”

Joel looks away after the announcement, gathering his work to put back into his bag. You shake yourself off and choose not to acknowledge whatever the hell that was.

******

You knew LAX would be busy, but. Holy shit. This place is insane.

You keep close to Joel as he navigates the two of you through the crowds and to your next gate. He keeps slightly in front of you, and you keep getting the urge to grab his hand to keep up, but you don’t. You don’t think you’ve ever seen this many people in one place—and you thought the Austin airport had been overwhelming.

There are a million shops and restaurants and gates as you make your way down the massive hallways, up and down the escalators, and through trains. It takes an hour and fifteen before you can even see the sign for your gate. Your legs hurt from walking, and your head hurts from all the noise.

You keep an eye on some of the closer restaurants you pass so that you can backtrack to them and grab a bagel or something before you have to get on your plane. You catch a glimpse of a Burger King when you’re suddenly slammed into.

You gasp as you’re sent flying onto your ass by a man who couldn’t be bothered to glance your way to see if you’re alright. Joel whips around and sets the bags down, quickly helping you up.

“Shit, are you alright, darlin’?” he asks, a deep concern in his eyes. Your cheeks are burning with embarrassment even though it wasn’t your fault.

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

Joel looks you up and down to make sure as you stand on your own two feet. He turns around, trying to scope out the man who bumped into you, and turns back when he finds that he’s long gone.

“I’m sorry, honey,” he finally says. “People don’t give a rat’s ass here.”

You nod, smiling at his choice of words. “I’m alright, Joel.”

He sighs and picks his bag back up, slinging the large weight over his shoulder, and then picks your suitcase up in one hand. WIth the other, he grabs onto yours. His hand is rough but warm and comforting.

“Just stay close ‘till we get to the gate.”

Practically glowing, you hold onto him and let him lead the way. It only takes a few more minutes before he’s telling you to sit down at the waiting area.

“I’m gonna grab you somethin’ to eat, ‘nd I’ll be right back.”

You decide to read while he’s on his errand, picking your book back up to a particularly smutty part. You’re not going to pretend like you aren’t picturing the characters as you and Joel as he eats her out on a countertop. You bite your lip, consuming each word with fervor.

You’re just finishing the chapter when Joel strolls up with two breakfast sandwiches, a coffee, and an orange juice. He hands you a sandwich and the latter drink, and takes the seat next to you with a groan.

“Probably have at least thirty minutes,” he grumbles.

You nod as you thank him and unwrap your sandwich. It’s silent for a few minutes, before you can’t bear it and break the peace.

“What all are we going to be doing?”

Joel looks at you, almost flustered. He must have misheard you. “Huh?”

“Like when we get there, what are we going to be working on?”

“Oh, uh,” he clears his throat and takes a sip of his coffee. “Mostly flooring ‘nd some drywall, but there should be somethin’ to do in the kitchen if I’m hearin’ right.”

You nod and take a bite of your sandwich. Joel continues.

“Should have a few days to relax, though, if we get everythin’ done in time.”

Your stomach flips at the thought. A few days to relax with Joel.

“Sounds easy enough,” you say.

Joel nods again. “Atta girl.”

“Flight 332 is ready to begin boarding.”

You and Joel take the last bites of your sandwich in silence and stand up to get in line once again. This flight is going to be longer, about six hours.

Joel throws your trash away and comes back to grab your bags. Same as last time, you have a seat by the window. Not like it matters much in the long run, because just after Joel takes his seat and the plane takes off, your head falls onto his shoulder, and you promptly fall asleep.

******

Thank you for reading!! Part two should be coming soon.

Itty bitty mini taglist: @callachloe @kewwrites @casa-boiardi @pastawench (love you guys)

Pls let me know if you would like to be tagged in pt. 2!

#pedro pascal #fan fiction #ao3 #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x reader #tlou fanfiction #joel tlou #joel miller the last of us #joel the last of us #the last of us hbo #fluff #x reader #dbf joel miller #dbf pedro pascal #dbf!joel

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wayrad · 2 days

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hiii number 15 on that prompt list would be delicious if u fancy it

omgosh yes anything for you legend <3

for prompt 15: “this is going to hurt, okay?”

Usually John’s the rash one, the on who jumps in over his head, doesn’t think things through. Prefers it that way, too; if he’s going off the deep end at least he knows Gale will be there to reign him back in. Get a hand on his nape and tell him knock it off, Bucky, always in that tone of voice that John needs.

That’s not how it happened today. Today, just another tick on the wall, and Gale woke up on the edge. He goes non-verbal, somedays, has got a storm brewing in him, and no seems to notice it but John. He knew today was a bad one, and not just for Gale; the Luftwaffe officers feel it too. The edge, like a knife licking up the spine. They hold their rifles a little higher, the chains on their dogs a little looser.

Gale had been so quiet. He’d never been the one they watch, especially not on days like these, but. But.

And John should’ve known. Should’ve.

Now, perspiration gathers on Gale’s severe brow bone. He looks pasty as a ghost, sounds like one too; the air in his lungs is rattling about like it’s slipping through the cracks of him. He looks drunk- but that’d be a mercy in here.

“Gale,” John says, tries, for what seems like the hundredth time in the last thirty minutes. “Gale, baby. Baby can you hear me?”

The pain’s making him delirious. He’s in shock, too, up to his head in it, shivering, muttering all incoherent. And John hasn’t been able to look at it, not for long- Gale's sleeve, pulled up, what’s waiting there for them. It’s still in the shape of a mouth, like the mutt was still hanging onto Gale’s tattered flesh, yanking, pulling as the German officer just watched and let it all happen.

John had ordered every man to stay out. He’d— handle it. He’d take care of Gale.

“I’m going to get your shirt open, okay?” he says slowly, taking the ruddied fabric between his fingers. When he shifts it experimentally Gale’s chest heaves, a wet sob breaking apart from his lips. It’s the loudest he’s been all day, loudest he's been since the bite took him.

John takes Gale's shoulders, hopes it's soothing. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he lulls. "Ain't no doctors around, not yet. Just me. I'm doing the best I can, huh?"

To that, Gale says nothing. Just clutches at his shoulder like he's trying to keep his arm attached to his body. John gives up on getting Gale's shirt off the right way; he finds little dull scissors the guys use to cut out pinups and takes the sleeve right from the seam. Warm clothes are hard to come by, and Gale would say as much, if he could.

Without the fabric to cover the gash, John's faced with the gravity of their situation. Puncture wounds litter the purpling skin of Gale's forearm, blood tacked and dripping across his wrist. There are chunks of skin missing. Around it, a mottled bruise blooms purple and green over the entire thing, makes John think it really could fall off.

"Jesus," he mutters. They've got nothing to clean it with, nothing proper, but- and that's an idea. John cups Gale's jaw. "Hey. I'm not leaving, okay?" he says. Gale shivers against him. His skin is clammy and too-hot, but he nods, and that's something.

John makes across the room, below his bunk, to where a jar of contraband liquor is stashed next to the notebook he was able to scrounge up a couple weeks ago.

This isn't exactly the special occasion he'd been saving it for.

Rounding up on Gale again, John smooths his sweat-stringy hair from his forehead. "Gale," he says. "This is going to hurt, okay?"

Gale flashes John his eyes- blue and full of pain- and John almost can't do it. Almost.

He unscrews the cap and tips, takes Gale's wrist when he jerks, crying out in pain. Forces it down. He holds Gale's arm and doesn't stop pouring until he runs through the entire jar. "Shh," he says, and it isn't enough, nothing could be enough. "Shh, Buck, it's okay."

Gale's body kicks against his chair. Slumps, eyes shutting. He's hasn't got enough fight left in him to break John's grip: he isn't eating, isn't sleeping, and now this. John's never seen him like this before. Not once in his life.

"Did good, Gale, huh?" John says. Presses his lips to the fire-hot skin of his forehead, slumping too. "Did good."

#tw injury #clegan #mota #prompts #answered asks #karma writes #WHUMP THAT GUY

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scarrletmoon · 1 day

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Do you have any Ed and Stede fic you could recommend to me? I love your fics so I think I'd like your recommendations :)

i'm so flattered 😭i barely read anything to begin with for multiple reasons (nothing to do with quality -- i've been in a lot of fandoms and this one BY FAR consistently has the most incredible fic) but uuuuhhhh let's go through my most recent bookmarks!

in case you don't want to scroll through all the rambles (oh and feel free to tag anyone if they're on tumblr, i just linked their ao3 pages):

An Uncharted Level of Waves by Living_City (E)

politely menacing by daydreamcrash (E)

charted by darcylindbergh (E)

serial blusher by daydreamcrash (T)

CringeFail Mob Boss Stede (series) by Panda_Birds (T)

but that's none of my business by chaotic_neutral_knitter (T)

Telescope by Jimsnose (E)

Untitled by oatmilktruther (T)

An Uncharted Level of Waves by Living_City (E)

something about this trans ed fic just got me. something about ed talking about his body with someone he trusts? something about how you can tell how deeply stede adores ed even when it's not from his perspective? also uuummm this has coming untouched, so. i'm a simple man,

politely menacing by daydreamcrash (E)

i'm so stupidly picky when it comes to stede characterization, but i took a chance bc i saw "what if......stede in the cat collar" and you know what. it was fuckin great. i love when stede gets to be the brat. i love seeing ed and stede trust each other. i like when ed gets to dom on his own terms. i love them being disgustingly in love

charted by darcylindbergh (E)

i assume im like, the last person to read this but it's one of those fics that just pops into my head out of nowhere sometimes and i just 🫠 as i said before, im a simple man and i'm a sucker for play that involves one of them trying to distract the other. sexually. anyway it's hot AND shows off how intelligent and skilled ed is. win-win

serial blusher by daydreamcrash (T)

(see sometimes i read stuff that isn't filth!) this fic is SO FUCKIN FUNNY. i just love the fact that ed's spent so long trying to meet someone, but of course the guy he instantly falls head over heels for is the one archie never even considered. it's "stede? STEDE stede?" manifested into a hilarious 5k fic. i love it

CringeFail Mob Boss Stede by Panda_Birds (T)

just gonna rec this entire series bc it's so FUCKING funny. i haven't read Performance Review but i trust sowmz' humor so much that i'm going to rec it sight unseen. they just manage to capture stede's terrible but kind-hearted boss energy without going too far into clueless michael scott territory. also ed is completely smitten and everyone is confused by it. it's great

but that's none of my business by chaotic_neutral_knitter (T)

i've probably hyped this fic too many times but idc. it's 1.5k of lucius losing his mind bc he's CONVINCED ed and stede have something going on but NO ONE will believe him (except exactly who you'd expect)

Telescope by Jimsnose (E)

another one of my always-recs. pretty sure jimsnose has left the fandom at this point but that doesn't change the fact that Telescope is incredible and i hope one day i write something even half as good as this. one thing i love about their writing is how you don't so much read it as let it HAPPEN to you. and sometimes i remember parts of this fic like glimpses through that telescope and it's just so incredibly vivid. you can feel the tension so well between ed and stede here, how much they care for each other, how that breaks them, how it brings them together. and jimsnose so good at what they do that i happily read their Ted Lasso fic. i've never watched Ted Lasso. idk if i ever will. idk what i was doing over there, reading it. but the fics are fuckin banger

Untitled by oatmilktruther (T)

first of all, read anything abs writes on sight, like go sub to them right now if you haven't already (i'm biased but im RIGHT). im picking kind of a weird one but you try and get the image of leather and stede and tongue-tied ed out of your head. right. exactly.

#scarrlet answers #our flag means death #ofmd fic recs #gentlebeard #this was really fun actually i love hyping up fic i've enjoyed

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babyboydaniel · 1 day

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you can only chase a butterfly for so long | daniel ricciardo x max verstappen

warning: angst, hurt/comfort | word count: 570

since i am still trying to deal with what happened, i decided to write a little something to just work through some of it. so please read at your own risk. it will all be okay, even if right now there doesn't seem to be any hope.

As the morning sun slipped through the gaps in the curtain the unbearable weight of tomorrow fell over him. The emotional turmoil that was yesterday was a thing of the past, and now all he is left with is the aftermath of that storm. Though he was wrapped in the warm embrace of his boyfriend, the iciness lingered beyond the surface level. The unforgiving frost worked its way between his ribs until it pierced his heart. This was supposed to be his second chance. A moment to do it over again, and it was never supposed to end like this. End it such uncertainty that felt so final.

His body and mind ached from the battering. His eyes filled with tears as they streaked down his face attempting to wash away the pity-filled words that were thrown at him. He tried to keep his body from rocking with sadness and prevent the sobs of betrayal from breaking through his lips, wanting to keep this moment to himself. Max did not deserve to be woken up by him in this state. But, Max was always so perceptive even when asleep. He was aware of even the most minuscule shift in his mood.

“Daniel,” Max began, his arms pulling him impossibly closer.

“I’m sorry I woke you,” Daniel responded, his voice thick with tears.

“Oh, baby,” Max whispered as he pressed a kiss to the back of his neck, “No need to apologize. I am here for you, always.”

Max’s words floated over his skin, providing pockets of warmth for him to sink into. For many years Daniel had Max by his side. Whether that was as teammates, rivals, friends, and eventually partners, it is the one thing he will never take for granted. Even through all of the blatant betrayal and pure disrespect, he would do it all again if that meant he got Max.

“I want you to know that you are so loved. Loved by me, by your family and friends, and by so many others. I cannot imagine what you are going through, but I will be right by your side as we work through it.”

Daniel nodded as more tears fell, unable to form any more words. Tired of defending himself, tired of proving himself, tired of showing up and pretending that all was good, tired of the false positivity, tired of having his character questioned. It wore him down until he could no longer fight.

“We will take our time because you deserve nothing less. This fucked up decision is not a reflection of you. It was never about you, and you were too good for the bullshit they put you through. You are always too good, Daniel. Most people don’t deserve you,” Max continued as he pressed delicate kisses along his shoulders.

Daniel shifted in his arms until their chests were pressed together and their eyes met. Max’s blue eyes which were usually so guarded were laid open. Every emotion and feeling was on display, leaving nothing for Daniel to question. His honesty was apparent and his love and adoration were overflowing that if he wasn’t careful he could drown in it.

“I love you,” Daniel stated. It was an absolute, a fact.

With the gentleness of handling a porcelain doll, Max reached out and brushed his thumb along his cheek. The tenderness caused his heart to ache in a completely different way. “I love you too.”

#maxiel #maxiel fic #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo fic #max verstappen #max verstappen fic #daniel ricciardo x max verstappen

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 2 days

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The Quicksilver Princess Chapter 6

Series summary: A fantasy AU in which Dean is part of a long line of warriors who protect the kingdom. What happens when his rescue of the little princess with the quicksilver eyes gets him a possible future bride?

Series Warnings: Nothing major. Show typical violence. Fantasy violence. Smut. Angst. Fluff. Each chapter will have its own specific warnings. So, watch for those.

Chapter Warnings: None really. A bit of magical violence. A kiss. Some angst.

Pairings: Dean Winchester x OFC (Melissande)

Word Count: 7,907

A/N: First of all - I'm so sorry for the length of this chapter. There was a lot to get through. 😁🫣 Secondly, I'm so unbelievably happy that I FINALLY got to give this story an ending! I've loved writing it, but fantasy is tough! Lol! But I'm happy and proud of the story as a whole, so I sure hope you enjoy this final chapter. And to those of you who've read the story and encouraged me to continue, thank you so much for your patience.

I know OFC's aren't most people's favourites, but I encourage you to give the story a shot, and I hope you enjoy it. ❤️

Series Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists

Melissande strained against the chains that held her immobile on the cold, stone table, even though she knew her struggles were pointless. She wasn’t nearly strong enough to break the iron binding her.

Layo’ita began to gather things from around the room, filling the pockets of the long black cloak she wore over her royal finery. She wore no elaborate headdress or hairstyle now, instead the wide hood of the cloak kept her face slightly in shadow.

She gathered plants and herbs, potions, many colorful crystals, and a small silver dagger, preparing everything, and going about her evil plan while she spoke.

“You have no idea how patient I’ve had to be, how meticulous with every detail.” She looked back to where Yasa stood slumped weakly against the wall. Melissande was terrified by his increased pallor. He raised his head slightly to watch Layo’ita as she continued.

“It would have been much easier if you weren’t such a nosy, troublesome thing.” She said to Yasa, her tone annoyed. “I hadn’t planned on duplicating you until this one turned eighteen.”

She waved dismissively towards Melissande. “But you just had to galavant off to your beloved Winchesters and try to outsmart me.”

Her smile was shadowed. “I took care of them without much trouble. But their meddling forced me to enact my plan much earlier than I’d wanted. It takes a lot of power and strength to hold on to a Duplicate, to make them seem natural and believable. I certainly wasn’t planning on having to keep it up for a dozen years!”

She huffed out a breath, clearly feeling put upon. “The difficulty with a Duplicate is that they give a sense, after a while at least, that something isn’t quite right. The smell begins to cause doubt and there can be no contact because of their cold skin. So, on top of everything else I had to take care of, I had to work at changing your reputation, sending out whispers that your brush with assassination had made you afraid and nervous to be around people.”

Sha laughed lightly. “No one seemed to miss the real you very much, or push to see you. Fooling people got easier as your reputation as kind of a recluse spread.”

She shook her head. “I’ve tried so often to fix the issues with the Duplicates, but I simply couldn’t manage it. It is very frustrating.” She claimed in an annoyed tone. “But it’s why I knew early on that I needed to make you to say goodbye to your visits with this brat and whore wife number four. If you’d kept visiting, they’d have known you too well and recognized the differences very quickly.”

Layo’ita pushed back her hood to reveal another ghoulish grin. “So, I convinced you that my heart was broken, made you believe I actually cared where you spent your nights or how many bastards you fathered.”

She snickered and looked at Melissande. “It was surprisingly easy to convince him to walk away from you and Hera. Hardly more than a few tears.”

Yasa shook his head. “That’s not true.” He said weakly, looking at Melissande. “It’s not true, poppet. I was just trying to do the right thing.” His body sagged further down the wall. “I’m sorry.”

Melissande shook her head. “I know, Papa, I know. It’s alright, we’re together now; that’s all that matters.”

Layo’ita cackled. “Oh, yes, yes! Together again - but not for long.”

Yasa’s breathing was short and slightly labored, as though standing for so long had sapped him of what little strength he had. His voice was thin, but it held a note of steel as he spoke again.

“Layo, I don’t understand. Where does this hate for me come from? We were friends once, weren’t we? I always tried to afford you the respect and care you deserved. Is this simply because I couldn’t love you? The heart pays little attention to anything but its own tune, you must know that. I did everything I could to honor my duty to you and our son.”

Layo’ita scoffed as she began to chop up some of the plants, along with what looked to Melissande to be a human tongue, tossing them all into a large, gold bowl.

“I couldn’t have cared less whether you loved me or didn’t.”

Melissande heard a flicker of something in the First Queen’s voice that told her that she did care, much more than she admitted.

“I don’t hate you." She continued. "In fact, I don’t care about you at all, except that you’re in my way. I’ve always known I was born for something great, that the old gods fashioned me for power. But instead, my whole life was simply about learning to be your wife, a mother to future kings who would rule. But never me.”

She stopped chopping and set down the knife, walking closer to Yasa. “I didn’t want you to honor me as the ‘First Queen’ and I never wanted to be your ‘True Wife’.”

Layo’ita shook her head. “My whole life I was taught to stand beside power.” Her voice dipped low. “But I knew I was born to wield it.”

She looked over to Melissande. “But it wasn’t until this bouncing baby brat came into the world that I finally realized just how to make that power mine.”

She went to the small fireplace set into the southern wall and tossed some more of the plants onto the flames. They gave off an acrid scent that made Melissande’s eyes water a little. The Queen stirred them into the low burning flames, watching the plants burn up.

“I didn’t know what she was right away, but I knew she’d be special. I’d heard the legends of course of other Coll family members and ancestors who’d had the quicksilver eyes, but she was the first one in a very long time. And I just knew something like that had to come from magic. So, I began digging into the history of the family.” She paused to look back at Yasa with a smile. “Your aunt would have been proud at how well I learned my lessons from her.”

She shrugged. “It didn’t take long for me to realize you were descended from fairies, and that’s when I knew how to rid myself of you, and take on the power of the crown all for myself.”

Yasa attempted a laugh that came out as a cough. “Come on Layo, you don’t actually believe that nonsense, do you? Do we look like fairies? It’s just an old, silly legend, made up by one of my ancestors, no doubt, to try and make the Coll family seem even more suited and destined for the throne.”

Layo’ita just shook her head with a mysterious smile. “You’re wrong, Yasa. You’ve always underestimated magic. You shouldn’t.”

Melissande heard her father’s words and the strangest feeling came over her; it was like something deep in her soul was shouting out a denial of what he was saying. It wasn’t a legend; it was real. She knew it like she knew how to breathe; it was instinctual, automatic. It was an odd feeling when just the day before she’d had almost the exact same reaction as her father when Rowena told her she was part fey.

But there was something about being in this place, so completely submerged in magic, that made the reality of her lineage very apparent to her. Something inside was screaming at her to believe, to soak up the magic surrounding her and allow it to flow through her.

Layo’ita stabbed at the fire with a poker until the logs and plants burned together into embers, and then into ash which she scooped up into a smaller silver bowl. She brought it over to the table where Melissande lay, and from inside her pocket she withdrew the silver dagger. She chanted something and then sliced a small, but fairly deep cut in Melissande’s left arm, making her gasp at the sting.

The First Queen rested the silver bowl beneath her arm, collecting her blood as it leaked from her veins. She took the bowl away, allowing the blood to trail down Melissande’s arm and onto the table. Then using the dagger, she mixed the ash and blood together, continuing to chant as she spread the sticky paste that it made, over Melissande’s feet and across her forehead.

The chants turned into a slow, soft song, as Layo’ita began to arrange the plethora of crystals she carried, around the outline of Melissande’s body. When she was done, Melissande felt the crystals warming her up in the cold chamber, each brightly colored stone giving off ripples of heat.

Layo’ita picked up the silver dagger again and approached Yasa. “Duplicating you, keeping the kingdom from knowing the truth, has been exhausting for these last twelve years. Every day, I’ve worried that this would be the day someone figured it out. I simply can’t go on like this forever.”

She shrugged. “So, my answer is to soak up your essence to put into my Duplicate, so he looks real and right. No more traces of sulfur, no more cold skin. But still very much under my control." She smiled. "I've found my solution at last."

She sighed. “Unfortunately, the only way to collect your essence,” she raised the dagger, “is to cut it out of you.”

“No!” Melissande shouted.

Yasa’s pallid face looked defiant and proud as he stood to his full height, in spite of the way his legs shook with exhaustion. Layo’ita looked slightly amused at his pride and defiance.

“You forget yourself, Layo. Do you not recall that you gave me a son, an heir. You can strike me down, but one day he will come to claim his crown and avenge me in the process.”

The Queen cackled again. “Oh my dear, I would be surprised if he even remembers you. I’ve been assured that he’s quite happy governing in The Lands Beyond and holding on to his own little piece of the world.”

She shrugged again. “But, if the babe I birthed tries to come and claim what I have taken, well, then he’ll meet your same fate.”

The First Queen lifted the dagger, aiming it at Yasa’s heart and Melissande saw it flash in the light of the dying fire as she screamed out her horror.

***

Four more Winchesters had joined Dean’s ranks before they set off from King’s Town, and as it turned out, sixteen experienced and well-trained Winchesters were more than capable of taking down the Guardsmen.

At the witching hour, under the cover of night, the Winchesters blended into the darkness and silently approached the castle. They split into four groups of four, and each team was charged with securing one of the North, East, South, and West facing entrances.

They’d agreed at the outset to do everything they could to not kill the guardsmen. Despite their extreme dislike of the order, and the grudge they held against the usurping guardsmen, they all begrudgingly agreed that the soldiers were just doing their duty in protecting the castle. So, they would do all they could to spare them.

But in the end, some of the guards fought bravely and gave the Winchesters a real challenge, but a great many of the guardsmen surrendered as soon as they saw the Winchesters fighting like the Warriors they were.

Dean, Robert, Jody, and Ketch made up one team, going through the North-facing entrance. There were approximately thirty soldiers at that entrance, and only six of them put up a fight, battling hard. But the Warriors still won handily, with only a broken nose for Ketch and two broken fingers for Jody.

After they’d been subdued, Dean grabbed one of the more cowardly looking guardsmen and demanded that he take him to Mellie.

“Now!” Dean shouted and the man trembled as he rushed to obey. Dean had to shake his head a little. How on earth had the kingdom stayed safe with these guardsmen as its protectors?

Jody and Ketch stayed to watch over the guards left behind, and to coordinate with the other Warriors to make sure everything was going smoothly in the other battles. Dean and Robert followed the guard down endless flights of stone steps until they came upon the dungeon in the bowels of the castle.

They left the guard tied up at the entrance to the row of dungeon cells, and proceeded down to the last cell where the guard said Mellie was being held.

They slowed as they approached it, taking extra care with their surroundings, looking for booby traps, or something that would keep them from reaching her at the last minute.

But nothing appeared to attack them, and they approached the cell. Dean wanted to let out a whoop of relief as he saw Mellie behind the bars, lying on the hard ground.

She’s alive. He thought with cascading relief.

She was dirty and she shivered slightly in her sleep, but she was alive. Her brow puckered as though she was having bad dreams, but she was alive. Dean approached the bars as he sent Robert back to the guard.

“Get the key.” He told the older man, who raced off to find it. Dean called softly through the bars.

“Mellie, sweetheart, wake up. Wake up, I’m gonna get you out of here.”

Mellie’s eyes flickered open, and confusion filled her expression for a moment as she sat up. But then she saw Dean and she gave a cry of surprise and happiness.

“Dean!” She jumped to her feet. “Oh Dean, you came! I knew you would.”

She approached the bars slowly, hesitatingly and Dean smiled at her warmly to let her know she was safe. As she drew nearer a slightly foul odor hit his nose, something like rotten eggs, and it made him want to take a step back. But he gave himself a mental shake.

Gods, man, he thought to himself, she’s been snatched up and thrown in a dungeon. What were you expecting her to smell like, roses?

He smiled at her again. “Robert’s gone to get the key, then we’ll get you out of here, somewhere safe, with a couple of Warriors to protect you and Robert and I will stay and demand to speak with your father, and try to find out what’s going on here.”

Mellie nodded. “Please be careful.”

Before he could respond, Robert was back with the key. Dean took it from him and pushed it into the rusted lock, unlocking the cell and pulling open the squeaking door. He rushed inside and ran up to Mellie, taking her upper arms in his hands, intending to pull her close. But when he touched her he was surprised.

“Mellie, you’re like ice.” He said with a frown, chafing her arms. “Robert, see if you can find a blanket somewhere.”

Robert nodded and set off. Dean took Mellie’s icy hand in his, intending to lead her out of the cell. But as her hand slipped into his, a sense of something dark slithered down his spine and suddenly his instincts were screaming at him, warning him.

He turned to look down at the woman walking beside him, and he was somehow sure something was off. For one thing, Mellie was never this quiet. She should be asking him a thousand questions about how they got in and who was with him. She should be saying “I told you so.” because the Winchesters had listened to him as she’d said they would.

He dropped her hand and stepped back from her. She looked slightly confused and a little hurt. “Dean, what is it?”

Dean shook his head, more sure than ever. He jerked his chin towards her. “I have no idea what you are, sweetheart, but you sure as hell aren’t Mellie.”

Remembering suddenly, Dean reached into the pouch on his hip and pulled out one of Rowena’s magic-revealing bags, and it glowed bright purple. Grabbing a matchbox from the same pouch, he quickly lit a match and then set the bundle ablaze.

In slight horror, Dean watched as “Mellie” went stone silent and unmoving before she went up in a literal puff of smoke. The air around him radiated the purple color as it thinned to a trail that led towards the back wall.

“Robert!” He called and the elder Warrior ran in, clearly confused by the still settling smoke and the purple air around them.

“It wasn’t her.” Dean said succinctly. “I don’t know what kind of illusion that was, but it was obviously meant to keep us from finding the real Mellie, and to keep us distracted until it’s too late.”

He pointed to the purple path in front of them and how it disappeared into the wall. “This is a protection bag from Rowena.”

Robert rolled his eyes. “You went to one witch to save you from another? What are the chances that she isn’t helping her?”

Dean shook his head. “No, trust me, we can trust her. On this at least. The bag glows purple in the presence of magic, and when it’s burned it reveals the magic that’s been used. This magic seems to be in the very air around us, and it seems to be leading us there.” He said, pointing.

“Into a wall.” Robert said, deadpan.

Dean nodded. “I wonder what’s on the other side.”

Robert nodded. “Alright, how do we break through?”

It took them far longer than Dean wanted to find equipment to try to chip away at the stone. His stomach was once again in his throat as he realized the eclipse was approaching fast.

But once they had pickaxes, they began pounding away at the stone and put a hole in the wall mercifully quickly. Once there was a small opening, the men tore at it with their bare hands, loosening rock and shoving it aside until there was a hole big enough for them to squeeze through.

When they were on the other side they saw they were standing on a landing at the top of a very long staircase. The stairs went on for so long, and went so deep beneath the castle, that they couldn’t make out the bottom of the steps; it ended in sheer darkness.

Though it was starting to fade, they still had the purple light in the air to follow, and it led them straight down the stairs.

It seemed to take forever to reach the bottom, and eventually the purple light disappeared completely, forcing Dean to strike match after match in an attempt to keep them from pitching headfirst down the increasingly damp stairs.

Finally, they reached the bottom, and followed a very pale light that was burning in the one and only cell. There was no one inside, and Dean wondered why the light still burned inside the cell.

Finally, he decided to burn the other bag, and see where the purple air would take them next. It had them continue down a very long corridor, until they finally reached a small, oval, wooden door. They were in the process of trying to find a way through, when Dean heard Mellie scream in terror and without hesitation, he smashed his body through the door.

***

It all happened so quickly; one moment the Queen was a breath away from murdering her father right in front of her, and the next moment there was a massive crash as the door splintered and Dean came charging through it.

Instantly Melissande’s eyes were filled with tears. “Dean.” She whispered.

Before she could do more than blink away the tears however, Dean and another man ran at Layo’ita, swords raised. With a blast of blue light from the center of her palms she threw the men back, spinning them through the air to land in a heap on the floor.

Dean got to his hands and knees and took cover behind a shelf full of tiny vials of potion. The older man sought cover as well, but didn’t find it quick enough and Layo’ita blasted him again, sending him crashing into the wall this time and knocking him out cold.

The Queen slowly walked towards the shelf Dean was hiding behind, shaking her head. “Now, now, hunter, you failed spectacularly at the mission I sent you on. But if you’re very good, I’ll let you stay alive for the show. As the sun rises, the moon will usurp its place in the sky, and the world will go dark. Then I will make my mark upon this land, and then the next kingdom, and the next and next, until all the world is held in the palm of my hand.”

Dean’s voice was deeply sardonic as he spoke. “Wow, it seems to me, like maybe you need a new pastime. You know, something else to focus on besides the whole, world conquering insanity. Cause, I mean, let’s be honest. Who the hell are you to claim ownership of the entire living world?”

Melissande could hear the rage in the Queen’s voice as she shouted at him. “I am born of the old gods, crafted by them, my destiny set down by them, written into the turning pages of time, before the world began. I am chosen among all the-”

“Got it!” Dean interrupted her. “You’re the very bestest and the gods really, really like you. That’s great, but I suppose that means I’m gonna make those old guys pretty angry when I put my sword through your black heart.”

Melissande could see the way Layo’ita’s face contorted in fury. “How dare you? You know you don’t stand a chance against me, boy! You mock the old gods, but they’re at my back, they guide me and give me power.”

She walked to one side of the shelf, creeping slowly, hiding her approach, but as she swept around to the back, Dean charged out from the other side, swinging his sword in a downward arc, coming within a hair’s breadth of taking off the queen’s head. But she jumped back just in time, and fired a bolt of magical power at him, tossing him aside, into the wall beside her father.

He rose again quickly, but not fast enough. Chains snaked out of the wall to wrap around Dean’s chest and thighs, pinning him in place. When he was completely immobilized, the Queen waved her hand and another set of chains wrapped themselves around Robert where he lay, still unconscious.

She approached Dean, wearing a smug smile. She reached out towards him, and used magic to pry his hand open and let his sword clatter to the ground.

Dean gave a frustrated growl through clenched teeth as the Queen reached him. She raised her hand up to run it down his cheek, and Dean turned his head, trying to jerk it away from her. But there was nowhere to move to.

Melissande watched his jaw flex tightly as Layo’ita ran her fingers from his cheek, down over his neck, and then across his broad chest.

The Queen sighed slightly. “You know, you certainly are a beautiful man. I might have to keep you. When the world is mine, I might need a pet, someone to keep me…entertained.” She moved her fingertips to his mouth and traced his bottom lip.

Dean turned cold eyes her way. “Yeah, good luck with that, sweetheart. Cause trust me, I bite.” He snapped his teeth at her fingers, and she just barely got them out of the way in time. She laughed, clearly exhilarated.

She practically purred at him. “Yes, I must find a place for you in my bedroom.”

“Get away from him!” Melissande shouted at her. She felt sick seeing Dean chained up and at the mercy of this fiendish madwoman. She’d brought this on him.

Layo’ita turned laughing eyes her way. “Oh, little princess, does it bother you to see him with someone else? Did you imagine he was in love with you just because he married you.”

When Melissande’s eyes grew wide, Layo’ita smirked. “Did you think I wasn’t aware of that pathetic attempt at trickery? But you won’t have to worry about that much longer. In fact,” she closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, “soon you won’t have to worry about much of anything."

She looked up at the ceiling. “The sun is rising.”

There were no windows in the chamber, but somehow Melissande knew she was right; it was as if she could feel it on her skin.

The Queen returned to Melissande’s side, pressing her hand to her forehead as though she was checking Melissande for a fever. But she chanted softly, effectively ignoring the woman beneath her hand as she continued the ritual she’d been planning for nineteen years.

When her chant ended, she seemed to be almost in a trance, and she wandered back towards Dean and Yasa. The King seemed so faint now he could barely hold his head up. Layo’ita bent to pick up the dagger she’d dropped when Dean smashed through the door, and tilted her head to look at Yasa, studying him.

But then she raised the dagger in her hand again, and again Melissande screamed out in terror. “Papa!” As her scream crescendoed, something happened that hadn’t happened the first time.

One of the crystals on the stone table, the orange one beside her shoulder, cracked into shards and the pieces sailed across the room towards the Queen. The sharp splinters of rock sliced into her cheek and she screamed in pain and surprise.

She whipped around to see Melissande’s shocked expression as she felt something churning inside her. Something that felt as though it rose up from the bottom of her soul and the very tips of her toes. Without conscious thought, two more crystals splintered and hurled themselves at Layo’ita, making the woman scream at Melissande in frustration.

“What do you think you’re doing you little brat? Who do you think you are?”

Words swam up into Melissande’s mind, Rowena’s words, and she spoke them outloud.

“I am the direct descendant of Queen Caryn'se, Ruler of the Fae and these ancient lands from the time the world began.” She shook her head. “You think the old gods created you to be a force of power and tyranny, but I think you’re wrong.”

With almost no effort, Melissande snapped the iron links that bound her, sitting up and grasping two more crystals in her hands. The Queen shot a bolt of power at her, but it sparked out and died like a fizzled candle before it could touch the Princess.

Melissande felt her body begin to buzz with an inexplicable energy, powerful and potent. But it didn’t scare her, it excited her, and it cradled her, protected her as she stepped down from the table and faced Layo’ita as she continued.

“I believe that when the old gods crafted me, they fashioned my veins and filled them with the blood of the fey, the blood of Caryn’se.” She held up the crystals in her palms. “They gave me the protection of the earth, the protection of Sanso’ye itself. The land of the silver-eyed people belongs to my ancestors, and we will not allow you to make our people suffer any longer!”

Melissande’s voice was vibrating with power, and she could see the white light that surrounded her, emanating from her entire body. As the Queen tried to bombard her with more and more flashes of dark magic, Melissande looked to where her father and Dean stood chained. Their eyes were wide with disbelief, but then Dean smiled as she caught his eye. It was a warm smile, and it even looked a little proud.

Melissande sent another crystal flying towards Dean. The gem barely touched his chains, but they quickly fell away. As soon as he was free, he immediately leapt for his sword.

Layo'ita spun to face him, hand raised to throw more magic at him, and the chains had started reaching out for him again.

But Melissande shook her head. “No.” She said softly and four crystals broke apart and shot through the air to stab into the Queen’s skin, causing her to screech in pain.

Her scream was short-lived, however as Dean got ahold of his sword and swung it true, following through on his promise, and plunging it through her heart.

The Queen’s face, skull-like and imobile, nevertheless wore a look of unbelievable shock as she fell backwards off of Dean’s sword and landed in a heap on the ground. Blood plumed across her chest, and as her last breath rattled out of her lungs, the Queen reached towards Melissande, as though, even in her last moments of life, she was desperately trying to grasp onto power.

After the Queen's death rattle, silence reigned for a moment, and Melissande could feel the power that had surged through her, begin to ebb, slowly melting away until she was just herself again, just a girl standing on very shaky legs.

Dean dropped his sword and ran to her, grasping her cheeks; his eyes flicked over her face quickly, taking inventory. Then without a word he claimed her lips in a stunning kiss, sweeping his tongue into her mouth and stamping her with it. He swallowed down her surprised cry, turning his head so he could slot his mouth over hers again and again.

They might have stayed like that forever if not for the King softly clearing his throat.

They nearly leapt away from each other as they were interrupted. They looked over to where Yasa stood, still weak and leaning against the wall, but also free from the chains. Melissande’s eyes widened.

“How did you get out of the chains?”

The king pointed to where Robert was stirring slightly, his chains were also broken and laying on the floor. Yasa shrugged. “The magic died with her, I suppose.”

He smiled and raised an eyebrow. “I hate to pull you apart, but I do believe we should get out of this vile place.”

Dean sprang into action. “Yes, of course, Your Majesty.” He looked at the man’s spindly limbs and bit his lip. “I mean no disrespect, Your Grace, but there are many, many stairs to climb in order to get out of here. Will you allow me to carry you out?”

Yasa nodded. “Thank you Winchester.” As Dean moved to pick him up though, the King put a hand on his arm. “I owe you my life, and my kingdom and I want you to know, it wasn’t truly me who…who ordered your father’s death and your brother’s imprisonment. John and Sam were incredibly decent and loyal men, and I will make immediate moves to see to it your brother is released and your father is pardoned of all false crimes. I’m so sorry that I ever called on them for help.”

Dean’s jaw ticked and he swallowed sharply, but he shook his head. “No, Sir. You have nothing to apologize for. My father died trying to protect his King, as he’d vowed. And now that people will know that, he can rest peacefully and honorably.”

Dean swallowed tightly again. “But I’m very grateful to have my little brother back as soon as possible.”

The King nodded. “It shall be done.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” Dean said before he easily picked up the stick thin man.

Melissande felt her heart constrict as she imagined the joy waiting for Dean when Sam was finally freed at last. But she shook her head at her father. “Yes, we’ll do it all, but first, I believe I promised you warm soup and warm blankets.”

***

Two months later:

In the time that followed there was much rejoicing and reuniting; the kingdom learned slowly about all that had happened at the castle, both twelve years ago and at the equinox. Astonishment was high, but as time moved forward, the astonishment turned into great joy. A huge celebration was planned and many, many people were invited.

All the King’s children had been called back home for a time, the invitation extended to their families as well. Yasa was determined to reconnect with his children, explain what had happened, and meet his grandchildren. He was slowly gaining weight, and color had returned to his skin, so he was more than ready to receive the rest of his family.

Melissande was slightly nervous about seeing her siblings again, or in the case of her eldest brother, seeing him for the very first time. But mostly she was excited, and she was happy that her father had survived to see his children all gathered under one roof.

Queen Hera had been given a place of honor for her eternal resting place. She'd been buried within the King’s Castle graveyard where Yasa could go put flowers on her grave easily while he recuperated. Melissande had caught him talking to her a few times when she came to pay her respects. Her father had been embarrassed at first, but she shook her head.

“No, Papa, don’t be ashamed. I talk to her all the time.” Tears filled her eyes. “I miss her very much, but I think she listens to us and it makes her happy to hear from us.”

Yasa nodded and kissed the crown of his daughter’s head. “You have your mother’s gentle spirit, and kind, loving heart.” He chucked her chin and winked at her. “But I’m gonna take credit for providing you with the fierce, unimaginable power you wield like a sword on behalf of your people.”

Melissande laughed. “I think that part comes along with these.” She said, pointing to her silver eyes and giving a shrug. “So, it probably does come from your side.”

When it came to her powers, she was still a little daunted by them, but with Rowena’s help she was beginning to learn about them, and how to manage them.

There was some pushback from the church as the Kingdom made moves towards embracing the old gods and magic once again. But the King told them simply that this had always been a realm of magic, and when you repressed it, or left only a few to practice it, you ended up with power-hungry rivals for the throne and no one to check them.

There was a lot of grumbling at first, but those on different sides of the issue were starting to come together and at least work towards peace and harmony.

One of the happiest moments for Melissande in the months after escaping from the Queen’s wrath, had been when the prisoners were freed from the mines. It wasn’t only Sam that had been wrongly imprisoned. There were many that Layo’ita had sent to the mines simply for questioning her or for stating their opinion.

When they’d returned, seeing families reunited had brought on many happy tears. Watching Dean and Sam crush each other as they embraced for the first time in over a decade, had made her sob noisily into her handkerchief.

While the kingdom was being set to rights and the Warriors were returned to their former place of honor within the kingdom (some of the guardsmen who’d defended the castle so stoutly were taking the vow as Winchesters), it was easy to stay busy and distracted.

But as the celebration approached, and preparations fell into the capable hands of their craftsmen and artisans, Melissande found herself with a lot of time on her hands, and she began to contemplate what the future was going to look like for her and Dean.

She knew he’d only married her to keep her safe. So, now that she was, what would he do? He’d been reinstated as a First Line Warrior and had returned to his duties at the Winchester Keep. He was at the castle fairly frequently, helping the King set his defenses in order and shore up security around the kingdom since it had been allowed to become incredibly lax under a Queen who didn’t care about the people.

So, Melissande saw him fairly regularly, but they never spoke about their situation. It was always just polite conversation in which he addressed her formally as “Your Highness” or “Princess Melissande”. He never called her Mellie anymore and she missed the sound of it on his lips.

She also missed his lips, and his hands, and so many other parts of him. She missed the way she always felt so safe with him nearby, missed the way he teased her, or purposely tried to bait her. She just missed him, and she was starting to think that now that his duty was done, he was no longer interested in anything to do with her.

But she thought about him all the time. She thought a lot about the wedding night that they never really had; she dreamed about it too.

Then one day a messenger arrived with a package for her. She saw that it came from Dean and she ripped it open excitedly. But when she saw what was inside her heart stopped beating and then plummeted to her stomach.

Inside were papers that had already been drawn up by the church and signed by Dean, papers that officially annulled their marriage, and set them free of one another. Dean had included a note at the bottom that said simply:

Have your father sign these as well, and it will be official, and you’ll be rid of me at last.

Melissande heard the teasing in the written words, could easily imagine the way his green eyes would sparkle, and the way they would crinkle at the corners as he smiled.

Her heart was broken and she ran to talk to the one person she knew would listen and not judge her for loving a man who didn’t want her. She knelt at her mother’s grave, rearranging the old flowers around her new ones.

“I don’t know what to do, Mama. I just love him. He’s so brave and strong and true. I know that sounds like the words of a lovesick fool, and I suppose I am. But they’re also the truth. He’s so honorable and chivalrous and…oh, Mama he’s so handsome. I think about him all the time, about…well about him kissing me or…well I just think about him. His voice and his laugh and…”

Her tears streaked her cheeks. “But he’s dissolving the contract between us, making it as though it never was.”

She wiped her cheeks and sniffled. “I suppose it’s fair. He only married me to keep me safe and to do the noble thing. Now that I’m safe, the kind thing to do would be to let him out of his obligation.”

She took a shuddery breath. “Yes, it’s the honorable thing to do.”

***

Dean walked into the King’s private antechamber, expecting to be discussing training for the new Warriors, and how the Keeps would be updated to accommodate the new men and women. But as he entered, the King waved at a seat beside him, bidding him to sit down.

It was highly unusual. Generally he met with the King and a few members of his new Council. So being here alone was already strange, but also, Warriors stood during meetings, and they were certainly never invited by the King to sit beside him.

But not wishing to disobey his King, he perched on the edge of the seat and nodded at the sovereign awkwardly. “So, would you like me to list the supplies we’ll need to improve and expand the Keeps?”

But Yasa was shaking his head. “No, no. This isn’t a formal visit. I had some questions to ask you.”

Dean felt his heart beat a little faster. “Alright, Your Majesty. I’d be happy to try and answer them.”

The King was quiet for a moment before he turned inquisitive eyes on Dean. “Why did you marry my daughter?”

Dean felt his stomach twist into a knot. Why the hell was the King talking to him about this? He and Mellie had already explained how and why the wedding had taken place, and Yasa had seemed fine with it at the time, maybe even a little grateful for Dean’s help.

So, what had changed; why did he want to discuss this now? Was this because of the annulment papers? Were there things he needed clarified?

Dean cleared his throat. “Well, as we told you, Your Grace, at the time, not knowing the full plans of the First Queen, it seemed like…”

Dean trailed off as the King waved at him. “No, no. I know the official reason, I know you meant to keep her safe, and I’m very grateful for that. But I suppose I meant to ask, was that the only reason? Or…is there a way you could see yourself staying married to her now that she’s safe?”

“I’m afraid…” Dean cleared his throat again. “Sire, I’m afraid I don’t…I mean, I’m not sure what you’re asking. I…of course I never dreamed of keeping her shackled to a mere Warrior. She no longer requires the protection of my name or my sword, so as any good subject would do, I’m removing the obligation of our vows.”

Yasa nodded. “I see…so…you don’t love her?”

Dean’s heart began to beat triple time. “I’m…Your Grace…I don’t…my feelings don’t matter one way or another. I’m a Warrior, Melissande is a Princess, I have no right to feel any way towards her. I’m all too aware that I am not worthy of her hand.”

“Hmm…” The King stroked his chin and then reached over to pull some papers off the table beside him. Dean recognized the annulment papers, but on top of them was a letter in neat, slanting handwriting. The King held it up.

“This is a letter from Hera that she sent to me on Melissande’s eighteenth birthday. Of course, having been trapped in a dungeon, I only just got around to reading it. The letter talks about what an amazing woman Melissande has become, but then she goes on to talk about you.”

Dean frowned. “Me?”

Yasa smiled. “Yes, lad, you. She explains how you saved Melissande when she was just a little girl.” A shadow passed over his features. “Somehow that information never made it to me either, and I wasn’t in a dungeon then.” He sighed. “I have a lot to make amends for.”

He shook his head and continued. “In the letter, Hera says that when you saved her, she offered you Melissande’s hand when she came of age, but you said then too, that you were not worthy. But,” he lifted the letter, “she thought you were. In fact, she knew you were. And I would have to agree.”

Dean shook his head. “Your Majesty -”

Yasa cut him off. “You’ve now saved my daughter’s life twice. You saved me, and the kingdom.”

Dean scrubbed the back of his neck with his hand and stared at the floor. “With an awful lot of help from your daughter.”

The King smiled. “Yes, she was remarkable. But you fought to get to us and you stabbed that wicked witch through the heart so she could never again threaten our kingdom.” His voice became more impassioned. “Your father gave his life, and your brother gave his freedom in defense of our kingdom. Now, if that doesn’t label you as worthy, I don’t know what would.”

At a complete loss for words, Dean could only fidget on the chair and look anywhere but at his King.

Yasa’s voice was soft as he continued. “But worthy or not, I won’t let you be with her if you don't love her. She deserves all the tenderness that was denied to her and her mother because of Layo’ita…and me.”

Dean felt his mind cloud with visions of Mellie, the visions he fought against day and night - her laughter and its musicality, but also the way her eyes sparked when she was mad; her bravery and her vulnerability; the way she clung to him sometimes, and the way she bossed him around. He thought about the very real possibility the King was presenting to him - a life with Mellie at his side, maybe children in the future and a life lived with purpose and meaning.

He hardly believed it could be real. But he took a chance and spoke quietly, his voice slightly hoarse. “Yes, I love her. I love her very much.”

Dean actually jumped in his seat as the door burst open and Mellie thundered in. Her cheeks were flushed, and tears sparkled in her beautiful quicksilver eyes; her skin glowed slightly as the magic of her soul lit up her body.

“Really Winchester?” She said, swallowing harshly and trying to hide her beaming smile. “You told my father before you told me?”

Dean felt the King stand and walk towards the door, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of Mellie to look. The King paused at her side and kissed the top of her head.

“Go easy on him, poppet. He really loves you.” He gave a soft smile and left, thrilled with this development and off to tell Hera all about it.

As he left the room, Mellie walked up to where Dean still sat in the chair. “So?” She said, tapping her foot against the wooden floors.

Dean felt his chest expand as it began to dawn on him that he really was married to this spitfire princess with her shifting silver eyes, and miracle of miracles, she seemed to love him back, which meant he got to stay married to her.

He smiled widely and his eyes were teasing as he reached up to grab her hand and yank her down onto his lap. She let out a small squeal as he spoke.

“And if I did speak to your father before you, wife? What of it? I am your husband after all, so you have to obey me.”

She elbowed him in the ribs and he exhaled sharply. “Oof.”

Mellie’s eyes glowed bright silver and Dean let his heart fill with awe as she spoke.

“Not likely, my Winchester Warrior. I am the Princess Melissande, pride of my mother Queen Hera, descendant of the fairy Queen Caryn’se, daughter of the Fae, and the honored child of King Yasa of Sanso’ye.” She flicked her hair back over her shoulder. “I obey no one.”

Dean’s smile was soft as he brushed his lips softly against hers and cupped her cheek in his palm before conceding happily and running his thumb along her cheekbone. “Alright, my Mellie, I suppose the obedience part is negotiable.”

He kissed her as she laughed, and reveled in the sound, and in the way her body felt, pressed close to him.

He caught her chin with his thumb and forefinger and stared into her eyes. “Marry me, princess?”

She chuckled. “That part’s already done.” She gave him an impish grin. “But I’ll wed you all over again, happily, if you promise that this time, we get a wedding night.”

Dean’s eyes flared with heat and he kissed her long and deep, living for the sighs and whimpers that bubbled up from inside her. He pulled back when he was dizzy for air, and he was panting as he spoke.

“You know, sweetheart, technically we are already married, and I bet Rowena would let us stay a night in that big, beautiful bedroom of hers. If I offer her a big enough trade she might even take herself and Bernard away for the night.”

Mellie’s smile was blinding. “Send a messenger.”

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#dean winchester #dean winchester au #dean winchester fantasy au #dean winchester fantasy au series #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester angst #spn fantasy au

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imagines--galore · 2 days

Text

||The Thread of Fate|| Part Thirty-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 - Masterlist

A/N: Hello loves! Sorry its taken me so long but I haven't been feeling the best lately but I'm slowly getting back on track and hopefully whatever bad juju I've been cursed with is now dissipating. Also slight mention of a dislocated shoulder and it being put back in place, so I hope you don't get too squeamish! Anyway! Back to the story! And get ready for a LONG ASS chapter!

Though she had finally removed her bandages from around her abdomen for good, Orora still had the area covered with the sash she had put together. Mostly to hide the hole at the side of her shirt where the fabric had been cut by Zuko to tend to her wound, but also because, well, the remaining sight wasn't exactly that pretty.

Not that she had anything against scars. She had plenty. It was the looks of pity she wanted to avoid whenever she was around her friends. Though mostly, she didn't want Zuko to see it.

The idiot would go ahead and feel guilty about what had happened, even though it hadn't been his fault.

So it was best to keep it hidden.

Out of sight, out of mind.

"You should go back Orora. We'll both be fine!" Sokka spoke up from where he stood next to her, watching as Zuko prepared the balloon for launch. Glad to have a distraction, the Waterbender didn't even spare her brother a glance as she secured her gloves around her forearms.

"I find that a little hard to believe Sokka." She said. A look of offense creasing his features, he turned to Orora. "What? You don't trust us!?" He demanded, his tone high and accusing at the same time.

Sighing the girl shook her head. "Oh no, I trust the both of you." She paused before continuing. "It's just you and Zuko tend to rub each other the wrong way. And sure its hilarious to see you two get on one another's nerves, I would prefer you didn't do it on such a high stake mission." Her admission had Sokka blinking in surprise. Yes, he did tend to tease and make fun of Zuko, but mostly because he was so uptight about everything. Well everything except Orora.

There was also the fact that Sokka still hadn't figured out how to act around Zuko. They'd been enemies for such a long time that sometimes, when he would see Zuko walking around camp, doing chores, or even just sitting and having dinner, it would throw him off a little. These were all such normal tasks and if there was one word he would never have used to describe Zuko, it would be normal.

Honestly, there was nothing normal about their situation.

Clearing her throat, Orora bit her lower lip. "So my aim on this mission is to make sure you two don't argue to the point of getting caught, getting in trouble, or worse."

Worse was bad.

Worse was very bad.

Katara would kill him if he got into worse.

Seeing the genuine worry in her blue eyes, Sokka sighed, before reaching out and wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulders. "You don't have to worry, Sis." He reassured her with a soft smile. "I promise my main focus will be the mission, and not making fun of Zuko and his grumpy expressions."

Though she offered Sokka a smile in return, she couldn't help but ignore the tightness in her stomach at his words. Hopefully he wouldn't become too focused and ignore every sign of danger that came their way.

She would just have to be super vigilant to make sure her boys stayed safe.

"I also don't trust either of you from making needlessly dangerous plans, trying to overdo everything and getting into unnecessary trouble."

Sokka looked utterly aghast at such a deceleration. Orora grinned. "I mean you were about to go off to a highly secured prison surrounded by water without a waterbender, which kind of proves the point I made just now." Playfully patting him on the head, she shouldered her water pouch and walked off to join Zuko in the balloon.

Leaving Sokka to follow after her, grumbling under his breath.

————————–

Leaning back against the metal railing of the war balloon, Orora allowed her fingers to flit through the clouds as they passed by. She'd almost forgotten how calming it was to travel by air. Or rather traveling by an Air Bison. Dragging her eyes away from the open blue sky, she shifted her attention to her two traveling companions.

Two rather awkward and wary looking companions.

It was strange to see how stiff the two boys were being around one another. If it weren't so painfully awkward, she would be laughing till she cried. But Orora kept her mouth shut and lips pressed in a thin line.

Throwing his hand out, Zuko sent a burst of fire into the tank to keep the hot air moving upwards and into the balloon. As he closed the metal door, she saw the both of them glance at one another before looking away.

Spirit, this was ridiculous.

Over Zuko's head, she caught Sokka's eye and mouthed at him to say something.

Sokka looked panicked for a moment, his head swiveling from one side to the other, as if he were looking for an interesting topic.

As if it would fall out of the sky.

"Pretty clouds." He finally stated, prompting Zuko to glanced around as well, missing the way Orora smacked her forehead and let out a silent groan of frustration.

"Yeah." The Prince responded, nodding in agreement. "Fluffy."

Another beat of silence, one where Sokka avoided any eye contact with his frustrated sister. Zuko, meanwhile, glanced in her direction with a helpless look on his face. Knowing this was so new to him and that he was way out of his depth here, Orora gave him an encouraging smile and gestured for him to continue.

Normally she would jump in now and act as the medium between the two boys, but not this time. They had to learn to get along on their own.

Just then Sokka began to whistle, prompting a slightly panicked Zuko, to turn to him. "What?"

Sokka stopped whistling. "What? Oh, I didn't say anything." He stated, a little defensively.

Maybe it would be better if she just threw herself off the war balloon and avoid this awkwardness altogether. She did the next best thing though, and that was closing her eyes.

"You know," She heard Sokka say. "A friend of mine actually designed these war balloons."

Zuko hummed in interest. "No kidding." She opened her eyes to see him opening the metal hatch once more.

"Yep, a balloon.....but for war." Sokka continued, looking a little dismal that someone had taken something as innocent as a balloon and turned it into a weapon of war.

Zuko blasted more fire into the tank, prompting the balloon to rise higher. "If there's one thing my dad's good at, it's war." His tone was dark as was his expression as he turned his eyes downcast. A surge of protectiveness raced through her, yet Orora stayed quiet.

Sokka nodded. "Yeah, it seems to run in the family." He was referring to Zuko's ancestors, though the Firebender wasn't about to agree with him.

"Hey, hold on." He said, the defensiveness in his tone evident as he turned to face Sokka. "Not everyone in my family is like that."

Holding up his hands, Sokka nodded. "I know, I know, you've changed." He said, his voice placating. To which Zuko shook his head.

"I meant my uncle." He said, the mention of him prompting both him and Orora to feel the wise old man's absence even more so then ever before. "He was more of a father to me. And I really let him down." She'd told herself she wouldn't interfere in the conversation, but that didn't stop Orora from reaching out, taking Zuko's hand in her own and giving it a reassuring squeeze. Zuko closed his eyes briefly at the contact, drawing comfort from her presence.

Sokka crossed his arms over his chest, a contemplating frown on his forehead. "I think your uncle would be proud of you." He said after a moment of silence. Zuko turned to look at him, a little surprised at the words of encouragement that followed. "Leaving your home to come help us? That's hard."

Glancing briefly at his soulmate, who was pretending she wasn't actively listening in on the conversation, Zuko felt the corner of his mouth lift in a small smile. "It wasn't that hard." He said, his voice soft, his hand sliding out of Orora's grip, only to take it again, this time with their fingers intertwined.

She was standing on his other side, which allowed Zuko's form to hide their little touches of affection from Sokka.

Sokka, frowned. "Really? You didn't leave behind anyone you cared about?" He asked, finding it hard to believe that Zuko didn't have anyone who cared for him in his own home.

"Well," He trailed off, glancing at Orora out of the corner of his eyes before he continued. "I did have a friend." He admitted. "Mai."

The water tribe boy frowned, though there was a smile on his face. "That gloomy girl who sighs a lot?" He asked, to which Orora glanced at him from over Zuko's shoulder. "Wait, you've met her?" She asked, genuine interest coloring her tone. Sokka nodded. "Yeah! She was one of the girls who attacked us with Azula."

Orora blinked, raising an eyebrow in Zuko's direction who was smiling sheepishly. "Way to go making friends with people who have a vendetta against your current friends Zuko." Her tone was heavy with sarcasm, as was the look she gave him.

"Well none of my relationships have ever been easy, so I guess the same could be said about my friendships." He responded with a laugh. Finally letting go of her hand, which neither of them had noticed they were still clasping, he sent a burst of flame into the metal box.

"Everyone in the Fire Nation thought we were dating, but I was only helping cover for her while she visited her Soulmate. And before I left, I made sure to cut all ties with her. In the eyes of my Nation I was effectively betraying them and I couldn't drag her into the mess I was leaving behind." He briefly wandered how Mai was doing. It had been days since he had thought of her.

Hopefully she was happy with her Soulmate, just as he was with his own.

Orora, however, was a little fixated on a minor detail. "So, the entire Fire Nation thinks you two were dating?" She asked, a sting of jealousy coursing through her body as she crossed her arms over her chest. Zuko shot a slightly panicked look in Sokka's direction, who mirrored his expression. "It was all just pretend." He quickly said, hoping to amend the situation. "She even encouraged me to go out and find you again."

Orora, however, continued to give him a skeptical look.

Thinking that perhaps his intervention would help, Sokka opened his mouth and said the first thing that popped into his mind. "My girlfriend turned into the moon." He blurted out.

The news were more then a little surprising to say the least, and it had Zuko turning to look at Sokka with a shocked expression. He glanced towards the sky, as if he would be able to see an actual girl walking among the clouds. Turning his head back towards Sokka, he gave him a sympathetic look.

"That's rough, buddy."

Not exactly an appropriate answer, but then again, what did you say to someone who's girlfriend became the moon?!

Though as the two boys continued to talk, Orora figured it was better then anything.

At least they were past the awkward stage.

Somewhat.

————————–

She fell asleep while the boys talked, and only woke up when the sun was setting, accompanied by the sound of someone snoring. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, and picking her head up from where she had placed it on the side of the war balloon, Orora was a little surprised to find a blanket covering her. One glance in Sokka's direction told her that he was fast asleep. Zuko, however, was still awake and tending to the fire inside the metal box.

He turned his head in her direction, smiling slightly as he watched her run a hand through her slightly ruffled hair. "Perfect timing. We'll be there in an hour or so." He said, reaching down for the pack of food they had brought. She'd slept through the meager lunch he and Sokka had shared.

Taking the bread, Orora bit into it, realizing just then how hungry she was. Though the gnawing in her stomach was nothing compared to the strange heaviness she felt in her chest. Averting her gaze from Zuko, she continued to nibble on her lunch, hoping he wouldn't broach the subject she was sure was bothering her.

"You know, nothing happened between Mai and me."

Sometimes she cursed just how well Zuko knew her by now to know exactly what was bothering her. She heard him close the small metal door and leave his post to come and stand next to her, the both of them gazing out at the orange and yellow hues the setting sun cast all across the sky.

Taking her silence as the invitation he needed to explain himself further, he continued. "I mean she was insistent at first, but then she saw me talking to you or rather, talking to your illusion that only I could see and hear. She confronted me about it, and I had to tell her everything." His head turned slightly so he could look at her as she stood beside him, her gaze unwavering as she stared straight ahead. "And she admitted to finding her own Soulmate, and we-"

"Zuko, you don't have to explain yourself to me." Her voice finally came, low and soft as she began to break pieces of the bread and dropping them to the ground. "She's your friend and you helped one another out because that is what friends are supposed to do."

Sensing her hesitation, Zuko reached out to gently lay a hand on top of her forearm. "Then whats on your mind?" He asked, his voice gentle, as he tried to coax her to unburden her mind. Closing her eyes, and throwing the last bit of bread into the wind, the girl allowed her head to fall forward, drawing comfort from his strong, warm presence.

"Its just," She sighed, before raising her head and continued. "Your entire Nation accepted the fact that you were dating Mai, even though you weren't. And I just can't help but think what their reaction will be when they find out that your Soulmate is not only from the Water Tribe, but also a Waterbender. I doubt either of those two things will work in my favor." She had wanted to pause there and give him the chance to speak, but the flood gates had opened, and all the worries and thoughts she had kept hidden began pouring out.

"You're a traitor to your Nation already, would having me as your Soulmate win you any support if we ask for it? And I've read how rigid the Fire Sages can be when it comes to the Royal Family, and I don't want to cause any more rifts between your people more then there already is. Then there's also the fact that ever since we've gotten back together we haven't even kissed yet, which has been making me think that maybe you're treating me a little more cautiously because of what happened, because if you are then know that I have forgiven you and that you don't need to prove yourself to me anymore an-"

The rest of her words were cut off with a gentle yet firm hand covering her mouth. Orora turned her head to glare at him, but found Zuko shaking his head at her. He stepped forward so that they were almost chest to chest.

"Orora." He said her name in a manner that had her heart skipping a beat. "I don't care what my Nation or people think about you being my Soulmate." His admittance had a flare of surprise running through her body, though it was more pleasant then she had expected it to be. "There was a time when I would've thought the exact same things and just gotten angry and frustrated at the entire situation, but I've learned not to do that anymore." The hand over her mouth slowly slid up to press against her cheek, cradling her head. Orora, in turn, nuzzled against his warm touch, sighing softly, her eyes never looking way from his. "I spent so long trying to deny what fate had already decided for me when it came to my heart, and I don't want to do that anymore. I just want us to be together." He stated, his expression just as honest as his voice as he gazed at her.

"And as for not kissing you." A blush stole across her cheeks at that part. She'd been hoping he wouldn't focus on that. Zuko simply shrugged with a smile. "If you want me to kiss you then fine I will, but I was kind of waiting for a special moment to do that."

Orora blinked at him. "What kind of special moment?" She asked, her words coming out a little breathless as she found her hand lifting to trace the scar that marred his face.

He shrugged, keeping his eyes on her, despite the urge to close them just so he could savor her gentle touch. "I have no idea." He admitted, prompting her to let out a small laugh, before stepping forward to wrap her arms around him. He returned the embrace, closing his eyes and feeling that warmth in his chest spread throughout his body.

There was a small stretch of silence, broken only when Sokka would let out a particularly loud snore.

"You know," Zuko said softly. "Its weird that I'm the one telling you not to worry when, just a couple of months ago, you were the one doing it for me."

Orora rolled her eyes at him as she pulled back from the embrace. "What? Only you're allowed to freak out in this relationship and not me?"

"Well you are the more rational and emotionally mature one out of both of us."

"I'm overall more mature then you Zuko."

"We're the same age, Orora."

"And yet, I've never tried to get myself killed during a lightning storm."

"......."

"That's what I thought."

————————–

True to what Zuko said, it was nearly an hour later, when night had fallen, that the prison came into sight. It was rather an impressive construction. Built in the center of a volcano, a gondola the only way in and out of the massive building that apparently housed every single dangerous individual in the Fire Nation.

Or rather those who had been deemed dangerous. Sokka had woken up at Zuko's exclaimation, and all three of them were watching as they neared their destination.

"There's plenty of steam to keep us covered." Zuko said as he assessed the surrounding steam rising from the boiling water. "As long as we're quiet, we should be able to navigate through it without being caught." No sooner had he said the words when the balloon began to loose altitude.

Frantic, Zuko began to blast even more fire into the tank. "We're going down! The balloon's not working anymore!" As a last resort, he blasted fire up into the balloon itself.

Orora's eyes darted towards the island that was getting closer and closer, as well as the boiling water as they began to drop at an alarming rate. "The air outside is just as hot as the air inside so we can't fly!" Sokka exclaimed, quickly realizing the scientific reason behind the balloon's failure.

The balloon began to sway from side to side, prompting all of them to grab the sides and hold on. "So what are we supposed to do?" Zuko asked, the panic clear in his voice.

"I don't know! Crash-landing?" Sokka responded. Orora quickly stood, raising her arms to create a sheet of ice over which the balloon could glide over. But the faster she tried to freeze the water, the faster it melted.

"Argh, its no use! The water is too hot. I'm gonna need to freeze the a big patch of ice, and I can't risk anyone seeing that even with the mist." She said, frustrated at being unable to help. Just then the balloon skidded along the boiling water, forcing Orora to hold on to the side railing for dear life. The balloon floated along the lake enough to reach the island atop which the prison stood, and tipped over, ejecting the three of them onto the rocky shore.

They sat up, groaning and rubbing whatever sore spot the tumble had caused them. Zuko was the first to look to the now destroyed balloon. "How are we gonna get off the island if the balloon won't work?" He asked, standing up before reaching out and pulling Orora to her feet as well.

"We'll figure something out!" Sokka stated, a hint of resignation in his voice as he did. "I suspected it might be a one-way ticket." Orora's mouth fell open in surprise, an emotion Zuko mirrored as he said. "You knew this would happen and you wanted to come anyway?"

"Sokka, are you insane?" Orora shrieked in a low voice. Truthfully she wanted to scream at him, but that meant drawing unwanted attention. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

Sokka ignored them both as he walked towards the balloon and began to gather up the broken parts. "My dad might be here! I had to come and see!" Orora pursed her lips, making a mental note to talk to Katara about whether or not Sokka had been dropped on his head too many times as a baby.

"Uncle always said I never thought things through. But this," He threw his arms out in frustration. "This is just crazy!"

The resident waterbender nodded. "I agree. Sokka you should've thought this all through. This recklessness could get you hurt, captured or killed."

Shooting both of them a glare, Sokka paused in his work. "Hey, I never wanted either of you to come along in the first place! And for the record, I always think things through! But my plans haven't exactly worked, so this time, I'm playing it by ear. So there." With that he kicked whatever was left of the war balloon into the boiling water and watched as it disappeared under the steaming surface.

Zuko stepped forward, a little alarmed at the rather mild mannered water tribe boy's show of aggression. "What are you doing?"

Sokka shrugged, walking towards the prison as it loomed over them through the dark and fog. "It doesn't work anyway, and we don't want anyone to find it."

Behind him, both Zuko and Orora glanced at one another, uncertain and yet determined at the same time. The girl quickly reached out the catch her brother by the shoulder. "Sokka, just try not to overdo it. I don't want you getting hurt." She said, hoping he would start thinking with his head rather then let his emotions rule his every judgement. "I hope you know what you're doing." Zuko stated as he followed after Sokka. "There's no turning back now."

————————–

Finding a way in wasn't that hard to do. A pipe that was clearly used to pump water into the prison was their way in. The metal grate that covered it was quickly sliced to pieces by Orora. A task that didn't take her too much time since years of water damage had rusted the metal rods already. Bending the water out of the way and keeping a firm control on the pressure of it, she lead the way in, with Zuko holding up a small flame in his hand to guide the way, while with his other, her did his best to bring down the temperature of the water to a more tolerable level.

Luckily they entered the water storage room, with the water cascading into a large metal tank.

"How do you suppose we sneak around the prison?" Orora asked as they climbed out of the water tank, completely dry thanks to her creating a small ice platform to slide down from. Sokka looked around the room, assessing it to the best of his ability.

"Since this is the water storage room, I'm willing to bet the room where they keep spare guard uniforms is nearby too." He glanced in Zuko's direction, who gave a quick nod. "I'll go out and see. Even if someone sees me they might not raise the alarm since I'm dressed in Fire Nation clothes."

With that, he quickly exited the room, sparing Orora only a brief glance of reassurance as he did.

The time he was gone, the girl paced the floor, chewing on her lower lip, hoping he wouldn't get caught. Sokka looked around the room, spying a small unused cupboard he figured they could store their stuff there once they wore the uniforms.

The sound of the door opening had both teenagers dropping into defensive positions, only to heave a sigh of relief to see that it was only Zuko with a large sack over his shoulder. "I was only able to find the men's uniforms." He said, setting the sack on the floor and pulling the items out. Sokka shook his head.

"Its fine. Its best if we stay together even while we share sleeping places. Plus Orora can disguise her voice can't you?" He said, looking to where Orora was collecting the pieces of her uniform, a helmet tucked under her arm.

She nodded. "I won't speak unless I'm spoken to." With that the girl walked away to change behind one of the coolers that were placed throughout the room. A few minutes later, all three of them emerged from the room, disguised and barely recognizable with the helmets covering their faces.

"Lets take the rest of the night to explore the prison. Get a bit of layout." Sokka suggested, to which the other two nodded. As the boys moved to walk away, Orora suddenly stopped them with a hand around their wrists. "Wait! We have to decide on some sort of signal." She whispered, prompting Sokka to raise the visor of his helmet and look at her curiously. "Why would we need that?"

Orora scowled at him. "Use your brain Sokka. Everyone will be dressed the same with their faces covered. How would you like to walk up to someone who you thought was either Zuko or me and blab about everything?"

A beat of silence.

"Can't believe we didn't think of that." Zuko said, sounding a little admonished that such a minor yet major detail was about to slip past them. Sokka pouted briefly. "I don't blab Orora, but you're right. We should come up with a code word. Something neutral." He hummed under his breath, tapping a finger against his chin as he did.

Orora rolled her eyes at his attempt to put so much thought into something so simple. "I think there's a full moon tonight." She said, adjusting the braces of her armor. "Its easy to remember and if we drop it in a conversation, it can just be taken as an observation."

The Fire Prince nodded. "We'll meet back here in two hours."

————————–

"Well the only thing I learned about this place is that its near unbreakable." Orora whispered to Zuko as they both walked into the Mess Hall and picked up their trays. He hummed in agreement. "Except for where we got in from." He reminded her, to which she shrugged. "Only if you're a waterbender. And I haven't seen any waterbender prisoners. Though I doubt they would keep them so close to a water source." She mused to herself as she picked up a bowl of soup and placed it on her tray.

It was only the two of them at the moment, since Sokka had been ordered to take one of the prisoners to the Cooler. Whatever that was.

They'd spent their time scouring the entirety of the prison and so far hadn't seen any water tribe prisoners. Then again, they hadn't talked to the guards yet.

Orora glanced over her shoulder at the various guards as they ate, drank, chatted and laughed while on their break. It was a little strange to see such normal faces under the helmets, but then maybe that was the reason they were forced to wear them as part of their uniform. To make them appear terrifying to the prisoners. "We need to get information about the prisoners here without raising suspicion." She whispered to Zuko who was loading his own tray with food.

Of course neither of them had removed their helmet.

"We can always just ask directly." He stated, looking around at the guards as well.

Orora made a face, her forehead creasing in worry. "Won't that be too obvious?" She asked, nervous that they would get caught instantly. Zuko, feeling a little in his element with so many Fire Nation people around him, shrugged. "Lets find out."

She realized a second too late what he was about to do. "No! Don-" But he was already turning away and walking towards a nearby table, asking his questions as he did. Orora stayed where she was, gathered her food, and quickly made her way towards an empty table. Not even ten minutes later Zuko joined her.

"That was reckless." She whispered, lifting her bowl of soup to her mouth and taking a big gulp of the warm broth.

"I got the information we needed so, it worked didn't it?" He responded with a slight grin as he finished up with his own food.

Orora pursed her lip and slammed her elbow into his side. Zuko nearly choked on the gulp of water he had just taken. He coughed harshly, clutching his ribs as he did. "That is not the point." She growled, picking up her now empty tray of food. "Come on, lets go find Sokka before he does something reckless like you."

"Yes, ma'am." He coughed.

————————–

Returning to the platform, Zuko approached the lone guard standing there, Orora a few paces behind him.

"Hey there, fellow guard, how goes it?" He asked, prompting Orora to clench her hand to stop herself from reaching out and punching her idiot Soulmate for not using the code phrase. Then again, her brother wasn't the brightest either, since he lifted the visor of his helmet and exclaimed loudly. "Zuko?"

"Spirit! Its like you two want to get caught." Orora hissed, glancing around to make sure no one was listening to them. Thankfully the platform was empty.

The two boys did wince at their mistakes, but quickly shook it off, eager to share what they had found. Or rather hadn't found. "Listen, I asked around the lounge." Zuko said, shaking his head. "There are no Water Tribe prisoners." He, too, lifted the visor of his helmet. "I'm afraid your father's not here."

Orora felt her stomach churn at the realization that they had failed their mission. Or rather, the mission had been a failure from the start. "What? Are you sure?" Sokka asked, not wanting to believe they had come all this way for nothing. "Did you double-check?"

"Yeah, I'm sure." Zuko nodded, as Orora lifted her visor as well, a sympathetic look on her soft features as she approached Sokka. "We both asked around Sokka. I'm afraid he isn't here."

But Sokka was done listening. He banged his fists against the metal wall, growling in frustration. Orora quickly reached out to stop him from hurting himself by grabbing his wrists.

Zuko stood with his own eyes shining with sympathy for the clearly anguished boy. "I'm really sorry, Sokka."

He was trembling, she could feel it from where she clutched his wrists. "So we came all this way for nothing?" He asked, eyes closed in frustration. "I failed.......again." His shoulders drooped, as Orora quickly wrapped him in a comforting hug, hoping to reassure him somehow.

"We'll find him Sokka. Even if we have to break into every Fire Nation prison." She promised, conviction running through her veins as she thought of the kind, brave man who had taken her under his protection. In the few weeks when they had traveled after escaping Ba Sing Se, Hakoda had shown her how a real father acted. And though she had been envious of Sokka and Katara, she couldn't help but thank the Spirits that at least she had caught a glimpse of what true fatherhood was. Something that Hakoda had extended to her when he had claimed her to be Sokka and Katara's sister.

Her brother's breath slowly calmed, and he pulled back from the embrace, giving her a small smile of gratitude.

Holding his chin, Zuko hummed under his breath. "What would Uncle say?" He mused to himself, hoping a few words of wisdom would ease Sokka's frustration and worries. He glanced up to the sky where the clouds lazily passed by. "Sometimes, clouds have two sides." He said, walking towards the railing. "A dark and light." The two Water Tribe siblings glanced at one another, utterly confused at what Zuko was saying. "And a silver lining in between. It's like a silver sandwich!"

Orora clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing out loud at what her Soulmate was saying. Meanwhile, Sokka had moved to stand by the railing as well, looking down at the prisoners as they milled about in the yard below.

"So.......when life seems hard......take a bite out of the silver sandwich!"

She could feel her ribs cracking from holding back her giggles. Sokka, however, had completely lost interest in both his companions as his eyes caught sight of a very familiar figure in the yard. He gripped the railings excitedly, his whole face lighting up as he did.

"Maybe we haven't failed after all!" He exclaimed, his excitement prompting Orora to forget her own mirth and stare at him inc confusion.

Zuko grinned. "That's the spirit!" He encouraged, folding his arms. "I can't believe that worked. I didn't even know what I was saying." He muttered to himself.

"No, what you said made no sense at all." Sokka stated, quickly shattering whatever notion had been forming in Zuko's head that maybe he could go around sharing his wisdom with the rest of the world. His mouth dropped open. "He's right. If I knew it wouldn't attract attention, I would've been laughing my head off." Orora added, which only made Zuko grumble under his breath, a little miffed that the both of them would think that.

Pointing excitedly in the direction of a lone girl sitting in the yard, Sokka nearly fell over the side of the railing. "It's Suki!" He cheered, barely noticing as Orora grabbed the back of his shirt to keep him from tipping over. Though his reveal had her own eyes widening.

"Suki?! You mean your soulmate Suki!?" She asked, turning her own excited gaze in the direction he was pointing. Sokka nodded. "Yes!"

Ice blue eyes blinked. "But then why didn't you feel your string tug?" The girl asked, a little confused. Though that confusion turned to sheer frustration with her brother's response.

"I did. I just thought it was malfunctioning or something."

Without missing a beat, Orora reached out to completely remove his helmet, and slap the back of his head. Hard.

Zuko couldn't help but let out the bark of laughter at Sokka's reaction. Orora was seething because how in the world was she saddled with two complete idiots?!

"Soulmate strings do not malfunction you dodo!" She hissed.

But her frustration was short-lived, as they began to form the next steps of their plan that now included breaking out Suki.

————————–

Of course, all their plans went down the drain and up in smoke the moment Zuko was thrown in prison.

"Oh this is bad! This is really bad! What if someone recognizes him and tells the Fire Lord where he is?"

Both Orora and Sokka were in the water storage room, with the latter watching his sister pace the length of the room as she ranted and panicked over the minor hitch they were currently facing.

"What if he gets into a fight and gets hurt? You know how his temper can be. What if someone inside the prison recognizes who he is and the prisoners turn on him? He won't be able to fight all of them off." Sokka glanced over the edge of the water tank he was leaning against. Sure enough the water within was churning and roiling, responding to Orora's emotions.

She'd been ranting for a good ten minutes now, or maybe more. With Orora, Sokka had learned that it was best that she had her emotions out of her system, since she would allow them to fester inside her.

Reaching out, he grabbed Orora by the arm as she walked by, pulling her to a stop and gripping her shoulders so that she was facing him. "Orora." He said, his voice firm and yet gentle at the same time. "Nothings gonna happen to Zuko. He'll be fine. He knows he has to keep his head down and he will."

Her eyes were still wide and panicked, so Sokka continued. "We're all gonna get out of here safe and in one piece. I already have a plan to cross the boiling lake so don't worry about that."

That caught Orora's attention.

"You do?" She asked, to which he nodded, finally letting go of her shoulders. "I do. Now go tell Suki and Zuko to meet us by the northern stairwell during cleaning hour. I have to do some scouting work for our escape."

Nodding, the panic and worry being replaced by a sense of determination, Orora quickly pulled on her helmet. "I'll meet you there too." She said. Sokka nodded and smiled. "We'll be fine Orora." He reassured her again, using the voice he reserved for both his sisters that he knew would calm them down.

This time the girl nodded, lifting the visor of her helmet briefly to flash him a smile before running off to do her task.

————————–

Her first stop was Suki's prison cell.

Quickly slipping into the room, she closed the door behind her and turned to the young girl sitting on top of the uncomfortable looking cot. "Sokka?" The girl whispered as she stood up. She couldn't be much older then her, Orora guessed as she quickly reached up to lift up her visor. "No, but I'm a friend of Sokka's. I'm-"

"Orora." The girl interrupted, prompting the Waterbender to frown in confusion. "Sokka mentioned he was here with you. Said I would recognize you by your hair." She gestured to the small white patch that was only just visible from being pressed against her forehead under the helmet. Orora couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Trust that idiot to give you a physical description where it won't do you any good." She grumbled to herself. Suki grinned. "I tried to tell him the same thing, but we kind of got interrupted by the fight outside."

The Water Tribe girl winced, remembering the skirmish that had resulted in Zuko's capture. "Oh yeah, that was my Soulmate covering Sokka's impromptu meeting with you so the both of you wouldn't get caught." She explained. Suki blinked. "Wait, Sokka said he was here with you and Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation." The girl's mouth fell open as she raised a finger to point at Orora.

"Does that mean he's your...." She trailed off, while Orora lifted her finger which had the now always glowing string tied around it and nodded. "Yup! He's my Soulmate." She let out a slightly derisive laugh. "Fate really has a sense of humor doesn't it?"

A moment of silence, where both girls simply stared at one another before Suki shrugged. "I guess you win in that department. I mean my Soulmate kissed the Moon Spirit herself, so really your Soulmate being the Prince of the Fire Nation shouldn't be too surprising." The other girl hummed. "I suppose. But hey, at least he's on our side now, so that's good."

A development she was thankful for every single day.

"Well he did burn down my village, so it'll take me some time to trust him again." The information had Orora wincing. "Yeah, I guess I should apologize on his part, but I'm sure he'll be sorry for his actions as well. He was a different person back then." Suki shook her head. "You have nothing to apologize for. I'll judge how much he's changed when I meet him." Orora nodded, before a small smile pulled at the corner of her lips.

"You know, its strange. I've never met you before but I feel like I can trust you with anything." Suki grinned. "I'm glad. Cuz that means I'm not the only one who feels the same way."

Orora laughed softly before holding her hand out for Suki to shake. "I'm Orora." She introduced herself, as Suki shook her hand. "And I'm Suki, its nice to meet you Orora."

The Waterbender all but beamed at the prospect of a new friend. Normally it took her a long time to trust someone and open up to them. She'd had months with Zuko before she had learned to trust him. Not to mention with Aang, Toph, Katara and Sokka, it had taken her time to get used to having them around and trusting them to keep her safe, just as she tried her best to keep them safe as well.

And here she was. Speaking so openly with a girl she had only just met.

Strange happenings really.

The sound of the bell ringing notified her of the change in shift. "Sokka said to meet by the northern stairs during cleaning hour. We'll catch you guys up with the rest of the plan there." Suki nodded, a determined gleam in her eyes. "Got it. I'll meet you there."

Sliding her visor back in place, Orora opened the door to the cell to step out. She paused at the threshold and glanced back.

"We'll get you out Suki. Don't worry." She reassured the other girl who smiled and nodded. "I know. Thanks Orora."

With one final smile, Orora locked the door behind her and walked off.

————————–

Her second stop was Zuko's prison cell. Easy to find. All she had to do was follow her string.

"You going for a new fashion statement?" She asked as she closed the door behind her. Zuko had been stripped off his guard uniform and given the standard prison clothes to wear. Her Soulmate gave her a deadpanned look. "At least it isn't brown or green." He retorted, recalling back to the time they were hiding in Ba Sing Se and he had to wear Earth Kingdom clothes.

He really hadn't liked those colors.

Orora rolled her eyes, an act that was visible to him since she had removed her helmet to allow her hair to breath a little. They were all out of place from being stuffed inside a helmet for so long. She looked oddly flyaway in her current state, and Zuko found she looked adorable.

Maybe it showed on his face, because Orora raised an eyebrow at him. "What?" She asked, knowing there was something on his mind. Zuko shrugged, the start of a smile on his lips. "Nothing. Just noticing how cute you are."

The effect of his words were instantaneous.

Pink flared across her tanned cheeks, and a gasp of surprise escaped her lips as she averted her gaze, suddenly feeling shy. It was ridiculous how Zuko had the ability to make her want to wring his shoulders and elbow him for being an idiot, to becoming shy and uncertain in a matter of seconds.

Trying to get back on track, she cleared her throat, the pink still evident on her cheeks. "Sokka says to meet by the northern staircase during cleaning hour. Suki will be there too so we can make the rest of our plan......there."

The last word was spoken in a slightly breathless whisper. To distract herself, Orora had begun to fiddle with her arm braces, and had not noticed Zuko walking towards her. Only when she looked up did she realize that he was standing before her, with barely an inch between them.

Her blue eyes widened in surprise, while a teasing spark glinted in his golden eyes. She gulped. "You know we really shouldn't be letting our guard down." The girl whispered, gaze darting to the closed door over her shoulder. Gentle fingers coaxed her to turn her head back in his direction. He smiled at her. "I timed the guard's rounds. We have half an hour before they make their rounds again. We're safe." Zuko reassured her, his thumb stroking along her chin.

"For now." She whispered, the last dregs of worry dissolving as she lost herself in his warm, familiar and loving golden gaze.

Not exactly the location to have a moment, but they neither of them were about to complain.

His head began to lean down, his intent obvious with the way he tilted it as he closed the distance between them. And Orora wanted to let him close that last few breath of distance between them.

She really did.

But her hand came up to gently press her fingers against his slightly parted mouth, stopping him. Zuko blinked at her, a little surprised. "You said you wanted our kiss to be special." She reminded him, to which he nodded. "What did you mean by that?"

The boy shrugged as Orora removed her fingers to allow him to talk. "Its just something silly." He admitted, not wanting to say his thoughts out loud. But the expectant expression she gave him had the Prince sighing as he reached up to toy with her silver hair. "Its just our entire journey as Soulmates has been full of unexpected and, at times, unbelievable, circumstances. I mean how many other people can say they met their Soulmate while saving their lives?"

She hummed. "True, but that's what makes us unique doesn't it?" Zuko chuckled at her response and nodded. "You're right it does. But since I came to the Air Temple I've been planning on going about things normally."

"Normally?" She repeated, a confused look on her face that had him shrugging and looking away from her, suddenly feeling uncertain and sheepish. "Yeah normal, like, going out on dates, just hanging out and acting like a normal couple and not with the weight of the entire world on our shoulders." He admitted. "Is that too much to ask?"

A small moment of silence followed his admittance. Orora smiled softly. "Zuko? Did you want our kiss to be after our first date or something?" Looking more then a little sheepish, as well as uncertain, the boy shrugged. "Well, I wouldn't be opposed to it." He admitted, and Orora felt her her heart turn to mush inside her.

"You know what." She said, the smile evident on her face as she looked up at him. "You're right. We do deserve a bit of normal in our lives. And when we have it, we'll go out on that date like normal teenagers do."

"Really? You wouldn't mind?" Zuko asked, to which Orora shook her head. "Mind?! I would love that! And yeah kissing for the first time as a couple in prison sounds exciting and all, but we've had too many exciting moment in our lives and having a normal boring story to tell would be amazing."

Zuko grinned, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to her cheek. And if he lingered there for much longer then was necessary, neither of them mentioned it. Or were bothered by it. "In that case, I promise, that when we get one moment of peace in our crazy lives, we'll go out on a date."

"I'll hold you to that."

————————–

The next part of Sokka's plan had gone off without a hitch.

Aside from a couple of hiccups.

One of them being Chit Sang, another prisoner, who wanted in on their escape plan when he overheard them talking about it.

Alright, no problem. Easily taken care of. And since he helped get Zuko thrown in the Cooler, that worked out well.

The second hiccup came in the form of Sokka being unable to retrieve Zuko from the cooler. He was pulled away for some guard duty. Luckily Orora had been standing next to him, and he had quickly told her where to find Zuko and let him out.

She was only ten minutes late to her destination, and opened up the Cooler, her heart hammering in her chest at the sight of Zuko crouching on the floor.

"I'm here to take you back to your cell." She stated in a deep fake voice for anyone around to overhear her. "If you've learned your lesson that is." She added, using the code-phrase she had insisted upon since they couldn't ask outright if the screws had been removed or not.

Once again Sokka had been about to overlook the minor detail. Which Orora had remedied quite quickly.

Orora watched as Zuko slowly raised his head from where he had it buried in his arms. A small burst of fire escaped as he exhaled, before looking up at her and smirking. "Yes I have."

He lowered his arms to reveal the bolts and screws he had removed. "Completely."

Trying her best to suppress her smile, the girl quickly leaned forward, lifting her visor as she whispered. "Sokka is getting Suki and Chit Sang out of their cells. They'll be waiting for us at the shore." Sokka had found a door that led to the shore. It had been hidden behind one of the boilers in the water storage room.

Zuko was about to step out of the Cooler when the sound of footsteps accompanied by voices had him halting. "Someone's coming." No sooner had he hissed the words when he was grabbing Orora by the wrist, and yanking her into the freezing Cooler and shutting the door.

The cold instantly reminded her of the temperature at the North Tribe. A shiver ran through her entire body, prompting Zuko to pull her against him, his warm body providing her with instant relief.

With bated breath they waited for the people outside to pass.

Only to learn a crucial piece of information as they did.

"War prisoners." Zuko whispered, recalling what the guard outside had said a few moments ago about the new prisoners arriving the next day. "It could be Sokka's father."

Orora nodded. "I know." Either they escape now and not investigate further. Or they forfeit and see whether the war prisoner was really Hakoda or not.

Zuko turned his head to look at Orora. "Well, what should we do? Are we going ahead with the plan or are we waiting another night?"

Shaking her head, the girl opened the door of the cooler and stepped out. "We have to tell Sokka. This is his mission. He gets to decide what our next step should be." She stated firmly, as she led him down the corridor towards their escape.

Though she had her doubts they would be escaping that night.

————————–

The moment Orora burst through the door and caught sight of Sokka, Suki and.....three other prisoners, not the problem right then, she blurted out what had been burning at the tip of her tongue the entire time she had Zuko had been sneaking their way through the prisoner.

"Sokka! New prisoners are coming in tomorrow. And there might be war prisoners in the batch." She panted out, having dragged Sokka away from the other four so they could speak without being interrupted. Barely drawing a breath she continued. "Hakoda might be..." She trailed off once she caught sight of Sokka's face. A plethora of emotions flickering in his eyes.

Zuko stepped forward. "You wanna go through with this?" He asked, knowing just how torn he must be feeling. "Or do you want to wait?"

Running a hand through his hair, Sokka pursed his lips. Uncertainty and hope swirled inside him, drawing a cloud of confusion around his brain. "I don't know!" He whispered, more to himself then the two of them. He glanced up to where Suki was looking in his direction, the curiosity evident on her face. "Is it right for me to risk Suki's freedom, all of our freedom on the slim chance that my dad is gonna show up?" He turned to look at Zuko and Orora, almost as if he were silently begging them to make the decision for him.

"It's your call, Sokka." Zuko said, his tone soft as he reached out to place a reassuring hand on the boy's shoulder. "Are you sure you wanna go? You're the one who said you wanted to redeem yourself. Redeem your honor. Rescuing your dad is your chance."

Normally, Orora would've recommended putting everyone's safety over honor, but she knew that Sokka needed to do this. Needed to get his confidence back and start thinking with his head straight on his shoulders once again. Too many rash decisions had been made up till now, all based on emotions.

What was one more?

"Your dad?" Suki's soft voice cut through the tense silence as she finally approached the trio. Orora nodded. "He might be transferred here tomorrow. But we don't know for certain" She explained.

Turning to Zuko, Sokka sighed in a resigned manner. "If I had just cut my losses at the invasion, maybe we wouldn't be in this mess." He glanced away, looking dejected and hopeless. "Maybe sometimes it's just better to call it quits before you fail." His shoulders drooped and for the first time, Orora saw the look of defeat cross her brother's features and settle into his very being.

And she didn't like it one bit.

Her Soulmate seemed to think the same, since he shook his head. "No, it's not." A determined look in his eyes had Orora stepping back towards Suki, giving the two boy the space they needed to talk. "Look Sokka, you're going to fail a lot before things work out."

Sokka scowled. "That supposed to make me feel better?" He asked in a slightly miffed voice before he began to walk away. But Zuko was persistent as he followed after the Water Tribe boy. "Even though you'll probably fail over and over and over again-"

"Seriously, not helping."

Reaching out, Zuko pulled Sokka to a stop with a hand on his shoulder. "You have to try every time." His eyes flickered in Orora's direction, prompting the girl to stand up straight, tilting her head curiously. "You can't quit or stop trying because you're afraid you might fail."

Silence followed Zuko's words.

Sokka stared at the scarred Prince, a little surprised at how much what he had said made sense.

Chit Sang, who had been standing by the cooler boat, and was growing impatient, called out. "Hey, if you two are done cuddling, can we get a move on?"

His entire demeanor changing, Sokka turned to the giant man. "No. I'm staying. You guys go." He turned to Suki and grasped her hand. "You've been here long enough."

Orora knew the answer before Suki even gave it. "I'm not leaving without you, Sokka." The Kyoshi Warrior stated firmly, prompting Orora to step forward and make her decision known as well. "I think I can say for both Zuko and myself that we're not leaving." She glanced in Zuko's direction, who nodded in agreement. "I'm staying, too."

That was all the confirmation the other three needed. The boat was pushed off and the three escaped convicts disappeared into the mist.

The four teenagers stood on the bank of the shore. "We gave up our only chance of escaping." Sokka said, sounding just a bit unsure. "I hope we haven't just made a huge mistake."

————————–

It would seem the Spirits had decided to side with them for the mission.

Chit Sang and his friends were caught rather quickly, and were hauled away into solitary confinement.

But the real winning point?

Was when Chief Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe stepped off the gondola and reaffirmed Sokka's faith in himself. Orora couldn't help but smile at his relief. Glancing in Suki and Zuko's direction, who were mirroring the relief the son was feeling at seeing his father, she nudged Sokka forward.

"You go talk to your dad." She said. "I'll get these two back in their cells. Meet me back here in an hour and we can start making the new plan."

With a nod Sokka ran off to locate his Father's cell.

————————–

Gently knocking on Suki's door nearly two hours later, Orora slipped inside, locking the door behind her as she did. "Sokka met with his dad, and they've come up with a plan." She whispered softly as the two girls leaned their heads forward. "He's gone to tell Zuko, but I wanted to talk to you about a minor detail before he decides to execute the plan."

Suki frowned slightly. "What detail?" She asked, prompting Orora to purse her lips briefly before speaking. "Hakoda suggests that we take the Warden as our prisoner."

A surprised look was all Suki responded with, before she raised an eyebrow. "Uh huh, and how does that plan go?" She asked to which Orora let out a groan of frustration. "That's just it. That is all they've come up with. Honestly, sometimes I think its just pure luck that Sokka has survived this long in life with the way he plans things and forgets the minor details."

Suppressing a smile at Orora's obvious frustration, Suki shrugged. "Well, its a good thing he has us to help him out." She leaned back against the wall, crossing her arms over her chest as she did. "What do you propose we do?" She asked, to which the other girl grinned.

"I have a few suggestions." The excited glint in Orora's blue eyes had Suki mirroring her grin as the both of them began to iron out the finer details of their own plan.

————————–

No sooner had Sokka explained the plan when Zuko found himself being escorted away by a couple of guards. Or rather being dragged away, since he wasn't about to let them take him without a fight.

"What are you doing?" He demanded to know, his voice echoing in the otherwise empty corridor. "Where are you taking me?" Of course the guards offered no response. Instead they opened a door and three him inside a bare room where the only item was a wooden chair in the middle. "I didn't do anything wrong!" He called out as the guards disappeared, leaving the door open.

"Come on, Zuko." A familiar voice cut through the darkness. His head whipped towards the corner of the room where a very familiar figure stood half-concealed in the shadows. "We all know that's a lie." She stepped forward, the anger that was evident in her voice, flashing in her eyes as she glared at him.

He felt his mouth fall open in shock. She was the last person he had expected to see here. "Mai! How did you know I was here?" He asked, his mind racing, wandering if his sister was here as well. The three of them did tend to travel in a pack.

"Because I know you so well." Mai responded. While any other time, Zuko would've picked up on the heavy sarcasm that laced her words, this time his brain was a little slow to catch up.

"But, how-?"

Loosing patience, Mai simply snapped. "The warden's my uncle, you idiot." A beat of silence, before Zuko facepalmed. He should've remembered that little detail. Orora would have his head if she knew he'd forgotten such a crucial piece of information.

Pulling out a scroll, Mai held it out in front of her former friend. "The truth is, I guess I don't know you. All I get is a letter?" She demanded. Angry wasn't the appropriate word to describe what she was feeling in that moment. Enraged came in pretty close. But there was also, hurt and the feeling of being betrayed. "You could have at least looked me in the eye before ending our friendship."

Guilt gnawed at his stomach. Unable to meet her gaze, he dropped his head in his hands. "I didn't mean to-" He said, his voice muffled, but was cut off as. "You didn't mean to?" She demanded to know, before unrolling the scroll and reading his words to her in a slightly mocking tone.

"Dear Mai, I'm sorry that you have to find out this way, but I'm leaving."

The urgency within him to find Orora and the others rose tenfold. He had to get out of here if he wanted to make it in time for their breakout. "Stop!" He said, standing up. "This isn't about you." His voice was firm as he continued. "This is about the Fire Nation!"

Crossing her arms over her chest, Mai rolled her eyes. "Thanks Zuko, that makes me feel all better." She hissed, throwing the letter at him. Taking a step towards her, he changed tactics, his tone imploring as he spoke. "Mai, I never wanted to hurt you. But I have to do this to save my country." The last few words had a tinge of desperation in them. Something that Mai picked up on, causing her to purse her lips.

And yet her anger remained. "Save it? You're betraying your country!" She said, her voice getting louder with each word. "I told you to go after your soulmate Zuko. I didn't say you could go and betray your entire Nation."

Zuko's own voice raised in retaliation. "That's not how I see it." Mai only scowled at him. "I've traveled the world Mai, and I've seen the devastation and destruction the Fire Nation has caused since the war began." Memories of all that he had seen but never noticed before rose to the forefront of his mind.

"We have been fed nothing but lies since we were born. The Fire Nation isn't interested in sharing its glory with the rest of the world. Its only looking to destroy it and take what it can give." He paused to draw breath. "Mai, I've seen families torn apart because of the Fire Nation. Mothers, father, children, sisters, brothers, Soulmates. No person has been shown mercy by our people. My great-grandfather wiped out an entire Nation, Mai. Aang is the last of his kind in the world." Mai's face began to loose some of the rigidity and anger as she gaped at him. "Children are starving and their parents can't do anything about it. Our people are being forced to serve the army. They're just as effected as the rest of the world. And I have to stop it." He declared, standing up straight, tall and proud.

"Its my destiny to restore the Fire Nation's honor and help Aang. I was so blinded by my own problems that I never looked beyond that. Uncle and Orora helped me see. They opened my eyes to what I was blind to and I'm not going to turn my back on those I can help."

His eyes were fixed on Mai as he added. "And if doing the right thing labels me as a betrayer then fine. I've lived with several titles, whats one more added to the roster."

Silence.

Which was quickly broken by the arrival of a guard, claiming to have been sent to protect Mai since there was a riot happening. The information prompted Zuko to act and he quickly made his escape using the guard to knock Mai down.

He locked the door behind him, glancing back to see Mai glaring at him through the slot at the top of the door.

"I stand by my beliefs Mai." He stated. "And I won't apologize for it."

With that he ran off.

————————–

One would think that starting a prison riot would commence with a punch being thrown.

But in this prison, that was not the case.

All it took was for Chit Sang, who they had to add into their group as well since he didn't give them away, was picking up another prisoner, holding the squirming man above his head and yelling out two words.

"Hey! Riot!"

A beat of silence.

And then all hell broke loose. Prisoners started to punch, kick, scream, claw, bite and do all manners of bodily harm. The Firebenders began to use their bending as well. All around them was chaos.

Exactly how they had planned.

But even better.

Hakoda looked shocked at the sudden turn of events. "Impressive." He praised, a little reluctantly.

Just then the panting figure of Orora ran over. She'd gotten rid of her helmet and was wearing her water bending gloves. "Hey guys! Have you guys seen Zuko?" She panted out. Pausing, she briefly turned to Hakoda and smiled brilliantly. "Its great to see you Chief." She said, sounding genuine and relieved at seeing him safe. The older man smiled. "And you Orora."

Another brief smile before her attention turned to Sokka.

"Where is Zuko?" She asked again, though barely had the words left her mouth when she felt her string tug. The boy in question, somersaulted over a prisoner, slamming them to the ground, and landing flawlessly in front of their little group.

"You called M'lady." He said with a teasing smile, making Orora roll her eyes at him before she moved to stand beside Suki as Sokka stepped forward.

"Zuko! Good, we're all here. Now all we need to do is grab the warden, and get to the gondolas!" The Water Tribe boy stated excitedly. The Prince nodded. "Right, and how do we do that?" Sokka's shoulders dropped and a sheepish expression overcame his features as he rubbed a hand behind his head. "I'm not sure." He admitted, prompting Zuko to groan and facepalm.

"I thought you thought this through!" He yelled out in frustration, which had Sokka responded at the same level of volume. "I thought you told me it's okay not to think everything through!" Zuko growled in frustration. "Maybe not everything, but this is kind of important!" He rubbed his forehead, his mind racing, trying to come up with a solution to their new problem.

Just then, Chit Sang spoke up.

"Hey, uh, fellas. I think your girlfriends are taking care of it."

Both boys jumped up and peeked out from behind the wall they were taking refuge.

And sure enough there was Suki and Orora.

With the former hoping on the heads of the rioters, using her momentum to push her forward. Never once did she loose balance, or miss her target. And even if she did, she found a small pillar of ice boosting her whenever she would run out of heads.

Orora, meanwhile, had decided to take on a more direct approach. The moment she had stepped out from behind the wall, she'd waved her arms and tiny drops of frozen water had emerged from her person. She'd spent the entire time in prison with the greatest weapon concealed in her uniform. And now, she was using it to the best of her abilities.

Which was saying something since she was only a few steps from becoming a true Master.

She was sliding along the ground, a sheet of ice creating a path for her through the crowd. Anyone who stepped on the ice slipped. And anyone who stepped in her way, retreated when several sharp ice daggers would be thrown in their general direction.

She was only a few paces behind Suki and as the Kyoshi Warrior began to scale the wall, Orora threw her hands out, creating ice-holds that would help the girl boost herself up faster then her already hurried pace. Creating a whirlpool of water around her, Orora quickly rose to the top, using the same whirlpool to create a wave that swept away any remaining firebenders that Suki hadn't already taken out. They went over the edge of the tower.

Suki, meanwhile, swept her leg out, defeating the final guard who was protecting the Warden and grabbed the man-in-question, grinning in triumph as she did.

"You wouldn't dare." The man growled, though he did look intimidated with the two girls looming over him. One who had defeated his high trained guards with just her bare hands, and the other who'd only used her abilities at the bare minimum when it came to the actual fighting.

Suki grinned, tying his hands together and using his headband as a gag. "Sorry warden. You're my prisoner now." She slammed the warden against the wall. "Impressive." Orora said as she quickly threw her leg out to waterbend a few straggling guards who were trying to sneak up on them. "You're not so bad yourself." Suki said, grinning from ear to ear. Shrugging, Orora gave a modest smile. "I try." She said, before the two girls giggled.

Spying the rest of their group approaching, Suki called out. "We've got the warden! Now let's get out of here!" The four males paused to catch their breath, funny since none of them had done the actual fighting.

"Those are some girls." Hakoda said, once he'd caught some of his breath.

Sokka and Zuko, both still trying to catch their breath, looked proud and a little love-struck at the same time.

"Tell me about it."

————————–

Getting to the gondolas was a bit of a challenge.

Luckily, they had two highly trained warriors, one seasoned warrior, two formidable benders, and a criminal who had probably done shady stuff in the past to have landed at such a high-security prison.

"We're almost there!" Suki called, even as they were stopped by two guards who launched twin fire blasts at them. Zuko quickly shoved Sokka out of the way and blocked the fire. Another two tried attacking from behind, only to be thrown aside by one of Orora's water whips.

As more guards approached, Zuko called out. "Back off! We've got the warden!" His words had the desired effect. Every single one of them stopped dead in their tracks and dropped their stances. "Let's go!" Zuko urged, grabbing Orora's wrist and pulling her beside him, her with twin ice daggers clutched in her hands, gleaming threateningly, while he never dropped his defensive stance, ready to attack should anyone make a move.

But no one did.

Reaching the gondola, Suki quickly opened the door. "Everyone in!" She called, which had Zuko quickly pushing Orora in the direction of the gondola. "Get on!" He called to her, racing towards the lever which would start the machinery. As everyone piled in, Zuko began to kick the lever several times.

"Zuko!" Orora called out in alarm as the gondola began to move. Several guards tried to move in on him, but a few threatening ice daggers being embedded where their feet were had them stepping back.

The lever broke, and Zuko raced towards the edge of the platform before leaping off and towards the gondola. Orora threw her arm out, ready to catch him, with Sokka right beside her.

But what she hadn't factored in was the momentum behind Zuko's jump, as well as his weight when gravity caught hold of him. He did grab her arm, while also grabbing Sokka's, but Orora's arm took the brunt of his weight.

And was pulled clean out of it's socket.

A scream of sheer pain sounded from her lips. And she would've dropped Zuko if Sokka hadn't gotten a hold of him as well. Stumbling backwards, Orora dropped to the floor, clutching her shoulder, whimpering as she saw her arm bent at such a strange angle.

"Agni! Orora! Are you alright?" The moment she had scream, Zuko's heart had plummeted in his stomach. And seeing her on the floor, with Suki and Hakoda already hovering over her, he crouched in front of her. "Spirits! I'm so sorry!" He said in a low voice, guilt racing through him. Orora shook her head frantically, breathing raggedly through the pain.

"Not your fault." She whimpered, as Hakoda inspected her injury with a critical eye. "We need to put the arm back in place." He said, gently but firmly, grasping Orora's arm. "Brace her." He advised Zuko and Suki, who both grabbed her by her uninjured shoulder to keep her in place.

"Hold on Orora. This will feel better soon." Hakoda said reassuringly. The girl simply nodded, panting as her entire body tensed. "On three." He warned.

Though he didn't bother counting.

The shoulder popped back into place, and Orora's entire body jerked as she roared from the pain. Or rather her body tried to jerk but both Suki and Zuko kept her in place. The relief was instant, but now a consistent throbbing seemed to run through her entire arm. "I'll be alright." She whispered softly. Suki stepped back, as did Hakoda. Zuko, however, cradled Orora's face, brushing her hair back as he did.

"What was that? Why'd you stay behind?" Sokka demanded, not liking that Orora had gotten hurt because of what Zuko did. "I had to make sure they didn't stop the gondola." The scarred Prince responded, barely looking up from Orora who was now breathing a little normally as she began to calm down.

Sokka blinked. "Huh. Way to think ahead." He praised, making Orora laugh softly as she patted Zuko's hand where it rested against her cheek, signalling to him that she was fine.

"We're on our way!" Suki said, sounding a little in disbelief as she stared at the other side of the platform as it neared. She'd been locked up for so long she didn't think she'd get free.

And now it was so close.

"Wait!" Hakoda called out from where he was standing in front of the window. "Who's that?" He asked, his question prompting Sokka, Suki and Zuko to race to the window, with the latter helping Orora to sit on one of the chairs along the wall.

"That's a problem." Zuko said, pursing his lips. "It's my sister and her friend." His words has Orora looking up from where she had water pressed to her shoulder, about to begin her Healing Session. "Azula?" She exclaimed softly, moving to stand but falling back down as pain radiated up and down her arm. "You stay where you are Orora." Hakoda said, resting a comforting hand on her uninjured shoulder.

"Yeah, cuz this is a rematch I've been waiting for." Suki said, her eyes narrowing in determination as she glared at the two girls on the platform.

Zuko flexed his fingers, feeling them burn hot as fire rose to the tips. "Me too." He added, before moving to the window to climb out to the roof.

"Be careful you three." He heard Orora called out to them.

The Waterbender, meanwhile, turned her attention back to her shoulder. The water on her hand glowed as she slowly began to heal herself. "Chief Hakoda, I'm gonna need you to make a sling for me." She said as the gondola began to sway from side to side and there were thumps and sounds from above.

Clearly the fight had begun.

She reached into the bag Sokka had brought and pulled out a piece of cloth she had cut especially for an injury like the one she had. Once she'd healed herself as best as she could, and the throbbing had dropped to a dull pain, Hakoda quickly had her arm in a sling, tying it behind her neck.

With Chit Sang looking up to the ceiling where the fighting was happening, none of them realized the Warden had wriggled free of the gag around his mouth and was shouting through the window for the lines to be cut.

Wasting no time Orora threw her arm out, slamming a block of ice around the Warden's mouth and effectively shutting him up.

But the damage was done.

"They're cutting the line." Zuko said as the three fighters slid back inside. Orora stood up, feeling a little better after her Healing Session.

Hakoda glanced around in worry. "I hope this thing floats." He muttered. "Maybe I can freeze some of the water underneath?" Orora suggested, stepping towards the window and glancing down at the boiling water below. "Zuko can't you bring the temperature down a little?" She asked to which he shook his head. "Even if I bring the temperature down at one spot, the heat will quickly come back." He said. Orora frowned, trying to come up with another solution when something caught her eye.

"Who's that? And why is she stopping the guards from cutting the lines?" She called out, which had everyone rushing towards the windows and peering towards the platform.

Zuko's eyes widened in shock. "It's Mai!" He whispered, sounding just as surprised as he looked. Whatever she was doing, it worked. The lines weren't cut. Azula and her friend had left the gondola long ago.

They reached their destination, the gondola rocking to and fro as it hit the platform. Everyone rushed out, with Zuko helping Orora make her way down the side of the volcano.

"Sorry Warden! Your record is officially broken." Hakoda called to the struggling captured man as a goodbye.

Climbing over the rim of the volcano, Zuko helped Orora sit down on a small boulder. "Wait here." He said, his gaze flickering around as if he were looking for something.

"Well, we made it out. Now what?" Suki said, looking around a little lost. Sokka noticed Zuko's strange behavior and stepped forward. "Zuko, what are you doing?" He asked, as Zuko came to a sudden stop.

"My sister was on that island." Sokka made a face. "Yeah, and she's probably right behind us, so let's not stop!" He urged, grabbing the other boy's arm and pulling at it to get him to start walking.

The Prince shook his head. "What I mean is she must have come here somehow." He walked up to a large hill and saw what he was looking for. "There!" He called out, pointing towards the airship.

"That's our way out of here!"

Suki helped Orora up before their small group began to make their way to commandeer the airship.

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Mai stood atop the platform, detained by two guards with Azula and Ty Lee before her. The latter looked terrified and concerned as she glanced between her two friends. Azula, meanwhile, had her signature poker face, devoid of all emotion. Though Mai knew her friend good enough to know what was going on beneath the surface.

"Leave us alone." Azula commanded. The guards gave the Princess a bow before exiting. Mai stood her ground, the defiance evident in her very body language as she stood before her friend.

Well, former friend.

"I never expected this from you." Azula said, the disbelief evident in her tone. Ty Lee's eyes began to water as tears rose to the surface, her entire body trembling as she waited for what was to come.

With her hands behind her back, and her forehead creased in a frown, Azula continued. "The thing I don't understand is 'Why?'. Why would you do it? You know the consequences." She added, wandering if perhaps she hadn't made those clear during the years they had known one another.

Mai scoffed. "I guess you just don't know people as well as you think you do." She said, her voice taking on a rather mocking tone when she said the next two words. "You miscalculated."

What Zuko had spoken to her about, had shattered whatever denial had been left within her.

"I value my friendship with Zuko more than I fear or value my so-called friendship with you."

Whatever intrigue had plagued Azula went up in smoke as her face contorted to one of absolute rage. "No, you miscalculated! You should have feared me more!" The Fire Nation Princess angled her fingers, ready to strike her friend with lightening. Mai readied herself, gripping one of her knives between her knuckles, ready to attack.

But before either of them could move, someone else moved first.

A few quick jabs, and Azula found herself falling to the floor in a helpless heap. Ty lee stood by, a little shocked at what she had done. Mai too was staring at her friend.

With no time to loose, Ty Lee quick ran to Mai and shook her out of her stupor. "Come one! Let's get out of here!" They're barely taken a few steps when they were surrounded by guards.

"You're both fools!" Azula hissed from where she was being helped by two guards.

"What shall we do with them, princess?" One of the guards asked, keeping a firm hold on their prisoners. They may be children, but the guards were now aware just how deadly these youngsters were when it came to the skill set they were experts in.

They'd already had a breakout. They weren't about to loose anymore prisoners today.

"Put them somewhere I'll never have to see their faces again!" Azula spat out, sheer anger and disgust behind her words as she glared at her former friends.

"And let them rot!"

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It was nightfall, by the time the airship reached the Air Temple. Sokka, Zuko and Orora stepped off the platform, looking more then a little pleased with themselves, with the latter two holding hands and smiling brightly.

Katara was the first to step forward. "What are you doing in this thing?" She asked, looking up at the construction in awe. "What happened to the war balloon? And what happened to Orora's arm?" The girl added. Despite the minor squabble that was still ongoing between the two girls, it didn't stop Katara from showing her concern for her sister.

"Its alright, Katara. Nothing too bad." Orora was quick to reassure the younger girl.

Letting out a sheepish chuckle, Zuko shrugged. "The balloon kind of got destroyed." He explained, sharing a look with Sokka who shrugged his shoulders in a What can you do? way.

Aang chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. "Sounds like a crazy fishing trip." Toph stepped up next to Orora, sensing her heartbeat. Once she was sure it was normal, she turned her attention to more important matters. "Did you at least get some good meat?" She asked.

"I did." Sokka proclaimed proudly. "The best meat of all. The meat of friendship and fatherhood." He looked way too proud for someone who had been trying to come up with something clever to say for the past few hours. But that didn't matter, as Suki, Hakoda and Chit Sang all exited the airship. Suki, Hakoda, and Chit Sang exit.

Though Chit Sang tried to introduce himself, his words were drowned out by Katara who called out for her Father and raced up to embrace him. Hakoda returned the hug just as fiercely and lovingly as it was given. "How are you here?" Katara asked, her voice high with both joy and disbelief as she grinned at her brother. "What is going on? Where did you go?"

"We kind of went to a Fire Nation prison." Her brother responded with a grin. Orora smiled as she watched Hakoda pull his son into the embrace. Tears burned behind her eyes, which she quickly blinked away as she moved to rest her head on his shoulder. Beside her, Zuko was smiling as well, their hands still twined together as he leaned his head down slightly to rest his head atop her own.

Of course, Toph had to go and ruin the moment by saying:

"Seriously? You guys didn't find any meat?"

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milesworld96 · 9 months

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YALL…..WE GOT NEWS☹️

#HELP PLEASE SAY THAT ITS JUST A BREAK HE’S TAKING #AND ITS JUST TO PUSH THE STORY AB THE BIDDING WAR AND HE’S ACTUALLY STAYING IN AEW #PLEASE SAY THAT THIS IS NOT HIM BASICALLY SAYING BYE #This is Cody all over again isnt it😭😭#If mjf actually leaves aew for wwe; aew is gonna be absolutely fucked #they’ve been losing their top stars left and right either by injury or exiting the company #I fear for aew #still watching it tho if he does leave #Hope this is just to make ppl worried and not an actual thing #mjf #maxwell jacob friedman #wwe #aew #the bidding war of 2024 #SCARED FOR MY LIFE RN!!!!#dawg if he’s still out by the time the royal rumble comes around I may actually die #I HOPE nothing happens and he’s just on a long break #can you tell I’m worried?

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longagoitwastuesday · 1 month

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I have learnt things about Geto that I wish I could unlearn

#I think I'm getting about the same amount of spoilers as a few weeks ago except now I understand them #But like. I expected so much of him #Seeing gifs of that one scene in which Gojo gets distracted because of Geto almost made me watch this a year ago #Geto was actually my favourite character in that one JJK fanfic I read that I mention so often even if he had literally one scene #I know so much of the emotional turmoil and conflict in JJK and Gojo in particular depends on him #And you're telling me he's Thanos?#I learnt a few days ago that everything pretty much happens in one year. That there's one year between Geto's death and Gojo's #I thought it would be like ten years. Ten years of the act haunting him #But no? So it's not a broken teenager who has these ideas and is killed by another teenager to stop him?#It's a what? ~30yo man saying Light levels of stupidity? Even worse perhaps?#Goodness I hope this is not so. I hope this is better written than what I am seeing #Because goddammit I can't do it. It would kinda ruin every emotional scene from then on?#That one scene I was so looking forwards about patting Gojo's back or whatever. The one in which Gojo gets distracted. It just. I don't know #I won't be able to be moved if Geto doesn't work xD #I was fearing I wasn't going to like him a lot because my expectations were big but oh my god please not like this #This is way worse than I expected. Someone tell me he actually makes sense. What's the point of this whole political play #in which no one is fully wrong and no one is totally right otherwise? What is the point of the haunting. This feels just idiotic xD #And I don't care about the traumas and all that. That works for the teen not the ~30yo man #It would have worked if Gojo would have killed him like 1-2 years after everything not like a few months ago. Last winter #After like ten years a 30yo man should have realised this plan sucks.#Even if it's utilitarian. Who is going to make clothes? Buildings? Streets and railways? Bread??? Go have a talk with Nanami please #We have been told there are not a lot of jujutsu sorcerers. How are you going to fulfill all those needs out of nothing?#And even if it were little by little so the needs could be getting fulfilled little by little too #If you decimate humans won't that cause more curses? I guess he's thinking on the long run but still this plan seems like a mess #I hope it makes more sense than it's looking it will make because of my god this would truly be the last nail on the coffin xD #I am being more and more tempted to get to Utahime and then just drop this. This is breaking my heart xD #It could be soooo good and it always almost is #And then. AND THEN. Abfksbfndbfkan #Jen pick me up. Come solve this. I am scared xD #I talk too much

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faaun · 1 month

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ok let's catch up quickly

#so i went on a few dates w this guy. long hair beautiful face kinda looked like a girl (good) said yes ma'am when i told him to do smth #(also good) film student great at photography including candids. made a sheath of leather for a sword pin i have . et cetera.#he asked to cuddle and i was like iggg and then i felt Nothing and i was like ohhh yh ok ok yep lesbian #like he meets almost all my criteria but. yeahhh no . also at the end of that date he had some weird takes. anyway broke up w him and told #him actually im p sure im a lesbian (again) and he was like yk thats the second time this has happened to me this week but its ok bc ive #fallen for this girl from berlin. and then we cooked together. anyway . met a beautiful butch lowk in love w her. weve been on (1) date.#have two exams in a few days havent studied enough going to like end it all basically. my research partner kicked me off our research #(expected(it was always skinda sketchy)) which was devastating + it happened in a lidl 15 hours into a journey from bordeaux #to go back to the UK. my friends were kinda busy paying for baguettes but also they heard this whole exchange and are kinda mad at him #my friend of 10+ years is coming over in a few days. my evil ex situationship person that i decided to stay friends w because i kept #insisting they are a good friend and not evil and also extremely beautiful? turns out shockingly enough they were evil. tried to fix them #and then i realised due to their entire friendship group being ppl like me (Every Single One of their friends are ppl they met on dating #apps then led on then dumped and proposed staying friends w) and are collectively extremely attracted to them and not over them they #keep validating the most diabolical shit they say/do to hace a chance w them. they broke up w their ex and the way they keep leading #this poor girl on and making her heartbeeak worse and saying that they want more power over her and want her to beg for them back etc...MY #JAW HAD DROPPED esp bc i didnt even know the ex was in the picture BECAUSE ME AND ONE OF OUR FRIENDS (that they also dated) HAD JUSR SLEPT #NAKED TOGETHER IN THEIR BED W THEM. GIRL. anyway that is the least of the diabolical stuff they said but no we are moving onnn #this was b4 the beautiful butch btw. anyways . i have a mitski concert tmrw i think?? idek anymore #i used to have a crush on this guy very briefly and then it disappeared and then i realised if he fundementally changed everything abt #himself then maybe id like him but ofc i didnt tell him that but i still think abt it sometimes but anyway thats irrelevant now bc 99% sure #even if he did id still not find him attractive (lesbianism). please recommend good overnight moisturisers btw i have super dry skin #right. the friend of 10 yrs. we had a hard convo abt why she essentially bullied me in year 8 and it made me highly bitter but i also love #her and ik things are diff now its been like . Many Years . and shes going to stay a while I HAVE TWO EXAMS I DONT HAVE TIME but i love her #its fine. i think i might just switch into medicine and do the whole become a neurosurgeon thing (which was my plan B) bc plan A is looking #kinda impossible rn. I WANNA TALK MORE ABT WHAT THE EX SITUATIONSHIP PERSON SAID but i wont bc i dont wanna be too mean but also . MY GOD #i had a conversation w a philosopher friend about whether i have a moral responsibility to try to fix them bc unleashing this on society #feels wrong and he said 'probably but...run' so yeah im not talking to them atm. second date w beautiful butch on monday btw IDK WHAT TO #WEAR. she said she likes fems. im just gonna wear the shortest ralph lauren skirt i have w the cute leg warmers and hope 4 the best #its 1:15 AM im abt to drink coffee and start studying bc what the FUCK man. also almost finished watching the boys its very good #one of my best friends is struggling rn it is breaking my heart i want to take the burden from her i miss her very much

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7000f1 · 2 years

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I just remembered how I once went to twt and finally said that Jyushi would probably be a monster hunter enthusiast and then like, 2 weeks later or so ARB announced the monster hunter subjugation event

#I voice my thoughts and then hypmic delivers it's nuts #also that event 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕#okay I'm going to ramble here I am chatty today #OKAY SO Jyushi stating that he was waiting for so long for the new monsub game and getting his hands on it as soon as it's released #also that's ma boy!!!! buying a physical copy!!!!#and he then thinks he hopes Kuko doesn't show up like last time so he can play AND THEN KUKO APPEARS #so Jyushi runs away like NOOOOOOO NOTHING'S HAPPENING BYEEEEEEE #JYUSHI BEING A LANCE USER I HAVE SO MUCH RESPECT I'VE NEVER BEEN ABLE TO USE LANCES #Jyushi being yeeted by a monster is such a mood #AND FAST FORWARD TO KUKO BREAKING INTO HIS ROOM #CAUSE HE WAS DEAD WORRIED SOMETHING HAPPENED LIKE 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 SUCH A SWEETHEART #and when Jyushi apologizes Kuko then says that the punishment is to play together #hold up give me a second I'm crying #that makes me so incredibly happy 😭😭😭😭😭💕💕💕💕💕 them both playing monhun- ahem monsub together and probably laughing #MY POOR HEART I LOVE THEM SM #do you think they try to get Hitoya to play too sometime? I do #they all would have so much fun together even if Hitoya thinks he won't enjoy it at first cause why does he have to play #just like that let's play! arb card in which kuko is ar first dragging him to play and then he is enjoying the game a lot I #I love BAT way too much man I can't hold my own thoughts shdhhshs congrats if you reached this far into my love dump #every hour is BAT loving hours #ramblings #I'm so happy I made my mhr character Jyushi really

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beast-of-the-void · 3 months

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#My little sister is an asshole- dad was warned by mom when she was like 14 and he did nothing by mom of all people #she's callous-hurtful-abusive-underhanded-crass-and somehow draws people to her despite giving the aura of “toxic”#He was asking me if I liked the new car-I said no because she was in it- that she didn't bother meeting my eyes nor greeting me #Only reason she was driving was to rub it in that “daddy loves me the best- look at my car he bought me”#It has taken every ounce of restraint I have to not look at her son and tell him every beating I've taken because of and on her behalf #But that is between me and her until it isn't- I hated being pitted against my parents even when they were being vile #Dad's excuse for letting it all happen is that he wasn't the one in the crosshairs cuz somehow that negates the EVIL she did to us #I have been made aware of TWO other instances besides mine of her literally trying to get someone to off themselves- unforgivable #Makes me wonder if she has gotten away with it before and is chasing that high again- I'd like to think not but I am not discounting my gut #I really wish that at least one adult in my life had given a fuck about how we were going to end up- one emotionally mature adult #Then! Dad tried to defend himself about pulling a gun on her ex- like taking a dog was worth a fucking life- give me a break asshole #If you cared at fucking all about the kid you wouldn't have immediately sided with the monster just because of shared blood #But hey- I'm the one that needs to inherit the shitshow from him- if I outlive him- Kinda hope the universe is spiteful and lets me off 1st #Is having a place to get away from this so I don't have to rely on them so much to ask for? I don't want their affection anymore #I really want out of this family- I don't even want to help the kids anymore- does that make me selfish?- I don't know #I have been trying to talk to babysis about any of this given our small bond- but it's so gd fleeting- we're all terminally lonely people #I long for a place I have never been- people I haven't met- warmth I've never known. spirituality has nothing for me #neither does the mundane #Let me get this story out of my head and hands and we'll circle back to the topic of escape. I just want to sleep now- so I'll do just that

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buttercuparry · 16 days

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I know I sound like a broken record by now: repeating the same things others have said before but I think banality of it all is the point of my post. The fact that I have nothing new to say– not about the genocide in Gaza, not about the dwindling attention of allies, is HORRIFYING.

It has been 11 months of a genocide that the UN calls “war on children”. Malnutrition, diseases, lack of suitable medical care have caused Gazan children to lose their childhood; to lose their lives entirely!

There is no hope left for a future unmarked of pain and my friend Siraj Abudayeh ( @siraj2024 ) , who is father to three sons describes it as a “feeling of oppression”. He laments that his children have been forced away from their schools, hopes and dreams by colonizers and where before there were ambitions to excel in either studies or sports, all they know now is helplessness, fear and anger.

Siraj has told me how his children- Abed, Muhammad and Amir have confessed to their father about how they have begun to feel guilty for surviving at all now ; after having lost so many of their friends to the genocide they are experiencing survivor's guilt and it breaks my heart to hear that. Abed, the eldest son, is ONLY ELEVEN!! Can you imagine an eleven year old feeling guilty because he has managed to survive while his friends haven't ? And what kind of survival it is– Half starving, drinking unclean water, forced into tents where sand mites pester him throughout the day?

I am not sure what happened or why the engagement with fundraisers has dropped so drastically lately but there is nothing more atrocious, more horrible than apathy when children are suffering. It is so strange that we can quote James Baldwin so easily and yet have failed to understand what he meant when he said,

"The children are always ours, every single one of them, all over the globe; ...whoever is incapable of recognizing this may be incapable of morality. ”

We have the power that is not afforded to Gazans and therefore it is on us to be attentive no matter how repetitive these posts feel. It is ridiculous and dehumanizing that during a genocide one has to worry about making a post original enough to maintain attention. And yes I know that we won't be able to stop the horrifying banality of Israel’s evil in a day but WE CAN help provide FIVE families that are dependent on this fundraiser with a lifeline during times such as these.

Please we have managed to get this far after struggling for so long, it cannot be that we will fail Siraj when he is so close to the end goal of 82k !!

So DONATE AND BOOST. Find it in yourself to not just reblog but circulate the fundraiser among your colleagues, friends and family. Share it in your whatsapp chats and discord servers. Share it on every other platform that you may have a reach on.

Currently at $72,987 CAD of the short term goal of 75k. We have 2k left to raise by tomorrow.

Vetting at 219

#free palestine #free gaza #all eyes on rafah

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gojorgeous · 8 months

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“heatwaves”

pairing: alpha!gojo x omega!fem!reader summary: when a work trip takes you to japan, the last thing you expect is a heatwave... and some guy with blue eyes? content: MDNI (18+ only), nsfw, a/b/o dynamics, no established relationship, dubcon (i feel like it’s always kinda dubcon with a/b/o), p->v, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding, biting, blood, marking, spit, praise, swearing, pet names (baby/sweetheart/princess), brief mention/implication of pregnancy, knotting, reader gets picked up, reader is american, reader is unaware of their omega status, reader experiences their first heat, reader and satoru “bond” without having a fully conscious conversation, reader and satoru are early twenties. a/n: it's here! somebody spay me. by popular demand i have written alpha!gojo for you all… just a classic reader goes into an accidental heat at work and (x) character happens to be the nearest alpha LMAO. this is entirely uncreative, but i love it for that!!! straight smut with a little plot if you squint hard enough! i hope it lives up to your expectations. find my alpha!geto fic here and find the list of my 1k event fics here. enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. wc: 5k

Nobody ever told you that Japan was so damn hot.

Hot was not what came to mind when you’d heard you’d be taking a trip to Tokyo. Temples? Sure. Mt. Fuji? Great. Hot? No fucking way.

But, here you were, boiling away under the sun on what you’d thought would be a fun little work trip. Instead, you were just suffering with every step, trying to listen to what Principal Yaga was saying and failing miserably.

“These are the sparring courts. No students right now, but they’ll start training within the hour.”

You rub at the back of your neck, cringing when your palm comes away coated with a thin layer of sweat. Gross.

You lift your eyes to the sky, wondering how much longer this was going to take. Your little trip to Japan was to organize an exchange program with Jujutsu Tech. Your students had been begging to take a trip to Tokyo, to where their cursed energy would be closer to the source and, consequently, stronger. You had to admit, it was a good idea. A few months spent training here in Japan would do them good. From the moment you’d set foot on Japanese soil, your power had thrummed faster in your veins than ever before.

Principal Yaga was giving you a tour of the grounds and had sealed your horrible fate when he’d decided to start outside. You barely heard a word the man said. New York was never this hot…

“Are you alright?” You blink, fanning your face as best you can. It provides no relief. God, it felt like the heat was penetrating your fucking bones…

When your eyes slide to Principal Yaga, you’re surprised to see that he looks genuinely concerned. “Y-yeah.” You blink again, shocked by your own stutter. Maybe you were coming down with something? “I’m fine, just not used to this kind of heat, I guess.” You fan your face again and clench your jaw when it still does nothing.

Yaga’s brows furrow and you see him glance around, like he’ll find said heat standing next to him. How was he wearing so many layers?

“How about we head inside and take a break, then? We can continue the tour… later.” You nearly fall to the ground and kiss his feet. Air conditioning is truly God's gift to man…

You smile and it’s all genuine. “That would be amazing. Thank you.”

Yaga nods, but you think his eyes linger on you for just a beat too long before he turns. He still looks confused… or maybe flustered? That only leaves you confused.

You follow after him, each step feeling like you’re sinking deep into cement. You tug at the collar of your shirt, trying to get some ventilation. When you finally reach the building you nearly sigh with relief. Air conditioning… that’ll be good. Just what you need. A few minutes inside and you’ll be good to go. You’ll just have to remember not to wear so many damn layers again when you continue the tour.

You’re smiling as you step inside, so ready for relief that you’re practically shaking– but relief never comes. Your brows furrow. You brush your arm through the air. It… doesn’t help. It’s strange– you can feel the coolness of the air conditioning, feel it gliding up and across your skin, but the heat doesn’t subside, doesn’t so much as lessen.

“I trust you know how to find anything you might–” Yaga clears his throat. “Need?”

Your brows furrow. He’d shown you all the school’s resources last night and your room was already stocked with food, toiletries, and every other thing you could possibly need. Of course you knew where everything was…

“Yes… Thank you.”

Yaga shifts so uncomfortably you think that maybe he’s about to pee his pants. “Right, well, you have my contact information. Let me know if I can be of assistance in connecting you to any… resources.”

You’re more confused now than you were at the start of this conversation. “Right…”

“Take care.”

Yaga shoots you one last– worried?- glance and stalks down the hall. You’re left wondering what the hell is happening in his mind and why he seemed so desperate to offer you resources?

You blink, clearing your mind as best you can, but some sort of fog seems to be settling over your consciousness. Definitely coming down with something, you think.

You make your way through the halls, steps still feeling suspiciously heavy and heat still radiating off your body. A cold shower. That’ll help. Or so you thought. The further you walk, the more each hallway starts to look like the next. Was it left or right next? Was this hallway always a dead end? Since when was there a bathroom there?

You’re leaning against the wall now, panting. Something is pooling in your gut, something warm and far too intense. Your inner thighs are wet, too. You want to convince yourself it’s sweat, but… you’re horny. More horny than you’ve ever been in your whole damn life. You think you might die if you don’t get some dick in the next ten minutes. What the fuck?

You slide yourself into the next room you see: an empty classroom. Thank fucking god. You grab the back of a chair, hands shaking with how hard you’re gripping the wood. You take a deep breath. You need to get a hold of yourself, need to figure out what the fuck is happening to you.

You swallow and try your best to think. It’s not without difficulty. Your head feels like somebody’s filled it with glue. It takes a minute for a coherent thought to come through, but when it does, you think it’s a good one. Doctor.

Yes– you don’t feel well, so obviously a doctor is the correct choice, right? You scramble for your phone in your back pocket but freeze when the brush of your own hand against your ass sends a jolt up your spine. What the fuck is wrong with you?

Carefully, you extract your phone from your pocket, but it’s too difficult to even remember your fucking passcode. You press your thighs together, trying to relieve some of the overwhelming ache that’s forming between your legs. Something is definitely wrong.

You fumble with your phone, but your hands are shaking so hard it just tumbles to the floor.

“Fuck,” you breathe. “Fuck, fuck, fuck?”

“Yo, who’s baking cookies in here without me?”

Your head snaps up and, with some difficulty, your eyes settle on a… man. You suck in a breath. He’s… dazzling. He’s wearing all black, but it’s not a student uniform. One of the teachers that you’ve yet to meet, then. White hair and pale skin contrasts against his clothes, but his eyes are covered by a pair of sunglasses set low on his nose. Even in your delirious state you still have the wherewithal to wonder who the fuck wears sunglasses inside.

You get a quick look at him before a wave of intense- fuck, desire?- washes over you. You tremble again and shock yourself when a whimper tumbles from your lips.

“Oh, shit,” you hear him say. You glance at him from the corner of your eye and watch him inhale again– deeply. His lips part. “Oh, shit.”

You clench your jaw and tighten your grip on your chair. Your legs are shaking now– you can barely stand. You squeak pitifully.

The second the sound leaves your throat you hear footsteps– rapid, hurried, concerned, ones. Warm hands clasp your waist and you cry out at the touch, electricity sparking on your skin.

“Shhh, it’s okay.” He turns you gently to face him, hands steadying your swaying body. “Who the fuck left you alone in here?” His hand is rubbing soothing circles on your lower back now and you think you’ve never felt something so good in your life. It’s so good that you almost miss what he said. Almost.

“W-What?” You see his brows furrow as you peek up at him. At this angle you can see under his sunglasses. His eyes are blue. Really fucking blue. You think he might be the most attractive man you’ve ever seen, even with the expression of… anger?- that he’s currently wearing.

“Whoever he is, I'll kill him.”

That makes you blink. An extra sliver of clarity opens in your brain. “What are you talking about?”

He tugs you a little closer, wrapping an arm fully around your waist and pressing you up against him. You try to ignore the fact that you love it, that you want nothing more than to wrap yourself around him and climb him like a fucking tree.

“What idiot leaves an omega going into heat?” He’s glaring at the doorway like he’s torn between staying here with you and running after said idiot to pommel him into the ground.

“‘M not an omega.” The words are out before you’ve even stopped to consider them. It’s true. You’re not an omega. You’re a beta. You’ve always been a beta. You’ve got the little “B” on your ID card to prove it. You were tested at birth, just like everyone else, and even if you really were an omega you would have presented years ago.

He only glances down at you and snorts. “Funny, sweetheart.” His hand is still rubbing those little circles into your back and it’s enough to make that fogginess in your mind grow a little thicker.

But your fear, your uncertainty outways your instinct. You pound a weak fist against his chest, not to push him away, but to get his attention. He’s still glaring at the doorway like he wants to murder it.

“‘M serious,” you gasp. “I’m a beta… I don’... know whas’ happenin’… to me.” Each word is a tremendous effort to form. Your tongue seems to have lost its ability to do anything but hang limply.

That gets his attention. He lifts a hand, gently brushing your hair back from your eyes and then cupping your jaw. “Is this your first heat?”

You find yourself leaning into his touch despite the fact that you’ve only known him for thirty seconds. Your eyelids flutter. “N-Not a heat… jus’ feel… sick.”

His brows furrow again, deeper this time, and he shakes his head. “How old are you?”

You know why he asks. Most omegas present around eighteen or nineteen. “Older than… nineteen…” You try to laugh, but it only comes out as a whimper.

That answer only serves to make him push closer. You feel his hand trailing down your neck, skimming gently over the skin until he reaches a spot you hadn't even realized was so… sore. You keen at the touch. Fuck, no. There was no way. You had swollen fucking scent glands.

You try to push away, but he pulls you in, burying his face in your neck. You shudder when he groans. “You smell like a damn bakery exploded,” he chuckles, and the sound is muffled by your skin. When he pulls away he makes it look like the action is physically painful. He cups your face again. “Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you’re an omega. If this is your first heat then…” he swallows and your eyes track the bob of his throat. “You’re just a late bloomer, baby.”

You shake your head desperately. It’s just the stupid heatwave. It’s just… hot outside… right?

You try to think about how this could be possible. It could be that the test you took as a baby was wrong… it happened sometimes. It was rare, but it happened. But if you were an omega, what would have triggered your presentation now? What had changed?

Your eyes widen. Japan. You’d set foot in fucking Japan. Ever since you’d gotten here, you’d felt power pulsing in your veins. Maybe it hadn’t been just power…

“N-no–”

A gentle thumb smooths over your cheek and you meet his eyes again. You shiver when you see a whole lot more black than blue. “You have no alpha?”

You whimper, leaning into him. Touch me, touch me, touch me, a part of you begs. You shake your head again and a tear slides down your cheek. “No,” you whisper.

Strong arms slide beneath your knees and you squeak when you’re suddenly suspended in the air. When you glance up he’s grinning triumphantly. “You have one now,” is all he says before he’s carrying you out of the classroom and twisting through the halls.

Warmth rushes over you at the sensation of being held, and something begs you to give into it, to give into the heat still washing over you, to the throbbing between your legs. You fight it and fight it hard.

“Where’re we going?” you ask, but your voice is sounding more and more like a whisper.

His eyes stay focused ahead, even as he presses a comforting kiss to the crown of your head. “Your room, sweetheart.”

Your brows scrunch. “How d’ you know where–”

“‘M following your scent, baby.”

He can do that? You bury your face in his neck, embarrassed, only to be hit by a different scent so delicious your mouth starts watering. You groan. Loudly. There’s a scent pouring from his neck that’s filling your head with memories of spices you can’t name, but suddenly know you love.

You think you hear him chuckle and then feel a gentle hand on the back of your neck, encouraging you. You snuggle deeper into him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and burying your fingers in his hair. Taste him, taste him, taste him your mind chants. It’s too good an offer to deny. You lick a stripe across his skin.

Your groans are instant. He’s squeezing you closer, leaning into your touch, and you’re pulling him closer. Your fingers curl into his jacket, tugging and tugging. You lick again and now he’s the one groaning.

“Damn, that feels good,” He sounds as surprised by that fact as you feel. The swaying of his steps comes to a sudden halt. You whine, missing the rocking of his body. “Think we’re here, princess. This it?” His hand is smoothing over your hair, slowly coaxing you away from the curve of his neck. You blink, not wanting to leave the paradise of his scent, but also feeling some overwhelming urge to please him.

Your eyes settle on a door and you recognize a little chip in the wood. You nod. “Mhm.”

You gasp when his hand grips your hip, wriggling through your pocket until he pulls out a little brass key.

“Perfect,” he says, and his voice sounds like he’s all too pleased with himself. He shimmies your key in the knob until the lock clicks and then you’re inside. The door slams shut loud enough to make you jump and squeak.

“Oops, sorry, baby. Guess I’m a little excited, heh.” His hand squeezes your hip soothingly and you mewl at the wave of heat that pulses through you. Your clit throbs almost painfully and you feel something gush onto your thighs. You whimper.

He inhales. “Oh, shit,” he breathes, and then you’re moving again. He navigates your room like he knows it. He probably does. From what you can tell, most of the rooms at Jujutsu Tech follow a standard layout. He weaves down a hall to the left and then into your bedroom on the right.

He lays you on the bed gently, tenderly, like he’s afraid you might break if he drops you so much as an inch. “There we go,” he breathes. You can’t deny that it feels good, that it feels right, to be lying on the softness of your mattress, but it’s not enough.

You claw at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and pulling him close. You want something from him, need something, but you can’t name what. You just know that the heat boiling beneath your skin can only be sated by him, that the throbbing between your legs can only be calmed by him. “P-Please,” you whimper. Tears well in your eyes. You need him so bad it physically hurts.

The smile he gives you is soft and genuine and it takes your breath away. He dips his head and you think you see him slide those sunglasses down his nose and toss them to the side. You don’t pay too close attention, though, because he’s kissing your neck again and your body is screaming with sensation.

“Aw, I know, baby. Don’ worry. ‘M gonna take care of you now. Jus’ relax.”

His words spark something in you– your last bit of consciousness. A brief moment of clarity shines through the fog of your mind and you remember what the hell is happening, what the hell you’re doing. You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head desperately. No, no, no, this is not happening to you. There’s no way.

“Hey, now. None a’ that.” Fingers clasp your chin, holding you still. When you peek your eyes open, you see that he has in fact removed his sunglasses and that his eyes are more black pupil than dazzling blue. His jaw is clenched and his breathing is heavy. “Don’t try t’ fight it. Jus’ try to enjoy it…” His head dips and suddenly he’s nipping at your scent gland again.

You thrash and scream, but not in fear or pain. You’ve never felt something so good in your life. Every graze of his teeth feels like heaven. Your skin zings with electricity, sending pulses of pure need straight between your thighs.

You grab at him, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging him closer. Your chest is heaving when you speak. “Please, p-please-”

“Shhh…” You think you hear your shirt tearing, but you’re too focused on pulling him closer to care. His tongue licks a stripe up your throat and your eyes roll back.

You’re sure your shirt is off now. You can feel the cool air, but it does nothing to ease the heat raging inside you, pulsing and pumping through your veins.You feel him tugging at your pants, too, and you try to raise your hips. He only shushes you again. “Jus’ relax. Let me do the work, baby.”

Your pants are gone in seconds, even without your assistance. So is your bra and then your panties. He tries pulling away to undress himself, but you mewl and his eyes blow even blacker before he’s back over you again. He settles for popping the buttons straight off his shirt and shimmying out of his pants.

The sight of his bare skin makes you whimper and then you’re clawing at him again, dragging your fingers across his shoulders, over his chest, down his abs. It’s a greedy touch and one that he returns. His palms move along your body, kneading and squeezing at any flesh he can grab. It feels so good that you think you might pass out– but it’s still not enough. Something is still missing. You feel… empty.

His fingers trace across your stomach and it’s too late to realize what’s happening before he’s circling your clit. You jerk and jolt at the touch, but he presses his chest to yours, pinning you. The throbbing only worsens when his fingers settle into a rhythm.

Tears leak down your cheeks. It’s too overwhelming. You’re burning– burning from the inside out. The pulsing between your thighs is all-consuming with its intensity, with its-

“Need! N-Need–” you’re crying out, but you don’t even know what to ask for– don’t even know what you need.

“God, Fuck, I know, princess,” he groans. He licks a long stripe up your neck. “But ‘s your first heat. Gotta–” he has to pause to swallow. He’s panting, now, just as lost as you are, and you get the sense that he’s restraining himself. “Gotta get you ready… go slow.”

You shake your head. Now, now, now is all you can think. You need him now. “No… please…” You bury your head in his neck and find that spot that’s pouring his spicy scent into the air. Your mouth waters and you lick him, letting your teeth graze his skin.

“Fuck!” He shivers atop you and you feel the pure strength restrained within his muscles. “Fuck- okay. Okay. Relax f’ me, princess.”

You try, you really do, but your body refuses to do anything but try to pull him closer. You feel his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs, pressing them up, up, up until they’re pressed tightly to your chest and your feet are dangling on his shoulders. The position makes you whine, feeling more exposed than you ever have before.

“You on birth control, baby?”

Your brows furrow. It’s becoming harder and harder to focus on what he’s saying rather than simply the sound of his voice. Were you? You try to think, try to remember through the pit of glue that is your brain. No…

You shake your head. “N-No…”

There’s a slight pause, a beat of contemplation, and then he’s laughing. “Guess I’m bouta be a daddy then, heh.” He chuckles again and the sound rings through you with a wave of pure bliss. His lips brush your neck again, settling on your pulse and making you whine. “Don’t really mind as long as I get you.” Your head rolls back submissively, exposing your throat. Yes, yes, yes, your mind screams. There’s nothing you want more than that, you think.“Okay, here we go, baby.”

There’s hardly any more warning. One second you feel him shifting between your thighs and the next he’s pressing inside of you, feeding his cock in inch by inch. The stretch is… delicious. It burns, fuels that fire inside you, but it makes the heat feel more… pleasurable. Your back arches and your head rolls back submissively.

“Oh, fuck, princess.” His voice has gotten higher, more like a whine than anything else. When you gaze up at him you can see the flush in his cheeks, even through the fog in your mind. More, more, more your mind screams. Or maybe you say it aloud, because more is exactly what he gives you. The second you feel him tucked up against your cervix the second he begins to take you. He sets a pace that is somehow both brutal and gentle, with strokes that rattle your skull and also give you exactly what you need. His hands grip your hips, holding you still to take exactly what he wants to give. His head dips until he has his lips wrapped around your nipple, and his tongue is swirling so deliciously that you can’t help but drag your nails down his back.

Your body rocks with every thrust, teeth rattling and eyes rolling. The heat inside you grows… tighter, like it’s all pooling to your core, waiting for something you still can’t quite name.

“N-need…” You don’t know what you need, still. Only that you want to beg for it so badly it hurts.

His tongue slides away from your nipple, tracing a line up between the valley of your breasts, over your collarbone, before he finally settles on your pulse once again. The nick of his teeth makes something click in your mind. This is what you need. Bite me, bite me, bite. Claim me, claim me, claim me.

“Yes,” you breathe. Your fingers dig into his scalp, pulling him closer, coaxing his teeth to sink in, to stake their claim. “Oh God, yes. Please.” You sound delirious, you think, but then so does he when he answers.

“Not yet, princess. Not yet.” His tongue darts out to lick across your neck again and you can only sob. Why not yet? Now, now, now…

Tightness coils in your muscles, the throb at your core reaching a breaking point. You feel something coming, something like an orgasm but yet also not. You know that when whatever is pooling inside you releases, you will shatter, and you’re not sure you’ll ever be put back together.

Your nails claw across his back hard enough to draw blood and the action forces out some sort of low grumble from his chest that makes you whimper and melt into the mattress. The tip of his nose draws a line up your throat. “Keep doin’ that, baby. Mark me up.”

You don’t dare deny him. You scratch at his skin, desperately trying to pull him closer. His thrusts grow faster and your thighs begin to tremble and shake on his shoulders, overwhelmed with the intensity of all you’re feeling. You pull at him, grab at him, thread your fingers through his hair.

Your body jolts with each thrust and you’re sure you’re going to burst any moment. But you can’t. Not yet. You still need something, something he hasn’t given you yet. He groans and the sound is so delicious that you feel it sliding over your skin and settling in your bones.

“M’ gonna knot you now, princess,” he breathes. “Gonna make you feel so good. Gonna take care ‘ve you.”

You whimper at his words. You hope they’re true. You don’t think you can take much more of the incessant gnawing of need in your gut.

“Please…” your voice is hardly more than a whisper. His breath is hot as it shakes against your neck. He’s licking and nipping at you ravenously, like he needs you just as badly, like he wants to claim you as badly as you want to be claimed.

His thrusts quicken even further and your jaw falls open, neck arching. You don’t think you can hold on much longer. Apparently, neither can he.

You feel it the moment he starts to swell inside you. It’s perfect, you think. It can’t get better than this– but then it does.

His teeth graze your throat again, this time a little harsher and with a little more intent. “Mine,” he whispers. The second he bites you everything goes blurry.

You’re experiencing… heaven. There is a rush of that electricity that buzzes under your skin. It bursts forth and you feel it reaching out, forming a link between the two of you that you know is now impenetrable. It pulses and burns and you can feel him, feel his pleasure, his desire, his need for you and only you– his need to make you his. You think your souls must be blending, merging, with how deep the connection runs. You think you know him, know everything you could possibly ever need to. You know he’s the one. You know he’s yours.

It’s perfect, the way it fulfills every desire you’ve ever had, the way he notches inside your cunt like that’s where he was made to be, the way his teeth clamp around your throat and bond you together forever.

You scream for him, you think, but you can’t tell through the complete and total haze of pleasure. Your walls spasm around him, milking him for every last drop, and you feel the heat of his cum coating your cervix. The heat at your center finally releases, bursting and flooding through you in a way that feels like pure bliss has been injected into your veins. Your thighs quake and tremble with the pure intensity of it all and white spots dot your vision.

His body is tense above you, shivering with the magnitude of what’s just happened. He’s groaning into your neck, your flesh still clamped between his teeth like he never wants to let go. You’re not sure you ever want him to.

Your breaths shake in and out, lungs heaving as you finally come down. His knot is still settled deep inside you and with the few strings of consciousness that slowly filter back into your mind you know that he’ll remain there for a while.

His teeth release from your neck with a squelch that you think you would be sickening in any other context, but only makes you whimper at the loss of contact. He only hums and finds your hand, twining your fingers together as he laps at the fresh bite on your throat. It feels… amazing. Not in the way it felt before, like he was licking pure lust straight onto your skin, but more like he’s giving you a comfort you have never known in your life. You feel safe in his arms, like nothing could ever hurt you here.

His lips press a final kiss to your throat before you feel him shifting. He gently rolls you both onto your sides, getting comfortable and pulling you to his chest while you both wait for the next wave of lust to hit you. It will, you know. Sooner rather than later, too. Your mind has cleared enough to realize what’s happening, what’s to come. You won’t be leaving this room, this bed, for quite some time.

A gentle hand brushes a sweaty lock of hair from your eyes before it settles on the nape of your neck, massaging the sore muscles there. You sigh and raise your gaze to find him already looking at you, an easy smile on his lips. He has dimples, you realize, and he’s… breathtaking. And now… he’s all yours.

There’s a beat of silence between you, a moment of reconciliation with what’s just happened between you, of what it means. You blink up at him, your lips parting to say something, anything, but instead your brows furrow in thought.

His smile drops instantly. He leans into you, thumb caressing your cheek. “What is it, sweetheart?”

Your mouth runs dry. You peek up at him from beneath your lashes. “What’s your name?”

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