#no girl can resist her charm and she is there so seize the day

[caitlynmeow]

she’s so lesbian i love her

[luvolani]

𝗚𝗼𝗷𝗼 𝘀𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘂 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿!

𝗣𝗿𝗶𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆- Gojo Satoru, the school's charming heartthrob, found himself captivated by Y/N, a shy and quiet girl with a gentle demeanor. Her reserved nature drew him in, and with every soft smile and fleeting conversation, he discovered a love that made his world feel both exciting and profoundly meaningful.

A/N 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀𝗻'𝘁 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗮 𝗰𝘂𝘁𝗲 𝗵𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘀𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗼𝗹 𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲?!

𝓕𝓻𝓸𝓶 𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓻𝓼 𝓽𝓸 𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓼~

𝓕𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓼 𝓽𝓸 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓻𝓮𝓻𝓼!

𝓐𝓷𝓭 𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓻𝓼 𝓪𝓰𝓪𝓲𝓷~

Gojo Satoru, the charismatic jujutsu sorcerer with his striking white hair and perpetually hidden eyes, had always been the center of attention at Jujutsu High. He was used to being surrounded by admirers, including his close friends Suguru and Nobara. His effortless charm and confidence made him a natural magnet for people, but recently, a new student named Y/N had captured his curiosity.

Y/N, with her aloof demeanor and unspoken air of mystery, seemed completely uninterested in Gojo’s usual charm. Her indifference stood out starkly against the backdrop of enthusiastic students. Gojo, intrigued by her apparent disinterest, decided to find out more about her.

When he asked Nobara about Y/N, her response was terse. “Just let her be, Gojo. She’s not looking for attention.”

Unperturbed, Gojo decided to take matters into his own hands. The next day, he spotted Y/N alone on the rooftop during lunch. Seizing the opportunity, he approached her with his usual ease.

“Mind if I join you?” Gojo asked, his voice relaxed as he took a seat beside her.

Y/N glanced up from her book, her expression a mix of surprise and skepticism. “Do you always intrude on people’s quiet time?”

“Only when they look like they could use some company,” Gojo replied, flashing his trademark smile. “Besides, I’m known for my excellent taste in friends.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “And you think you can add me to your list of ‘friends’ just like that?”

“Absolutely,” Gojo said confidently. “Why not? I’m very good at getting people to see things my way.”

Y/N’s eyes glinted with challenge. “Is that so? And what if I don’t want to be part of your fan club?”

“Fan club?” Gojo laughed. “I assure you, I’m not here to recruit. I’m just genuinely curious. You’ve got this intriguing vibe. It’s like you’re in your own world.”

“Well, I’m quite content in my world,” Y/N said, a hint of sass in her voice. “And I don’t need you to spice it up.”

“Spice it up, huh?” Gojo leaned in, clearly enjoying the banter. “You’re quite the fiery one. I have to admit, it’s refreshing.”

Y/N smirked, her guard slightly lowering. “You’re persistent, I’ll give you that. Most people wouldn’t bother.”

“Well, I’m not most people,” Gojo said with a wink. “And I find persistence is often the key to unlocking interesting conversations. How about you humor me for a bit?”

Y/N studied him for a moment, her expression softening just a fraction. “Alright, Gojo. I’ll give you a few minutes. But don’t expect me to make it easy for you.”

“That’s the best kind of challenge,” Gojo said, clearly pleased with her response. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

As they continued talking, Y/N found herself drawn into the conversation. Gojo’s persistence and genuine curiosity managed to break through her initial resistance, revealing glimpses of her own intriguing personality.

ꕺ♡ꕤ♡ꕤꕺ♡ꕺ

Gojo's smile widened, his eyes glinting with mischief as he leaned in slightly. “So, what do you say? Friends?” He extended his hand toward Y/N with a cheeky grin that was both charming and disarming.

Y/N’s eyes flickered between his face and the outstretched hand, her initial hesitation palpable. The playful yet earnest look on Gojo's face was a stark contrast to her usual solitude, and for a moment, she was caught off guard.

Her cheeks flushed a delicate pink as she looked down, trying to hide her reaction. She hadn’t expected to be so affected by his straightforward charm. With a deep breath, she glanced back up, her gaze meeting his with a mix of vulnerability and resolve.

“F-Friends,” she stammered, reaching out to shake his hand. Her voice was softer than she intended, and her fingers trembled slightly as they met his.

Gojo’s smile broadened, clearly pleased with her response. “Great! I’m looking forward to getting to know you better, Y/N.”

As they shook hands, Y/N felt an unexpected warmth in the gesture. Gojo’s touch was firm but gentle, and the sincerity in his eyes seemed to melt away the last of her reservations.

“Me too,” she replied, her voice steadier now. She looked up at him with a shy smile, the initial barrier between them finally starting to crumble

[suituuup]

that's the kind of love i've been dreaming of

Has Beca mentioned that she hates his guts? Everything is just too… annoyingly nice. His charming smile, his messy but not too messy hair, his sense of humor, and well, his taste in women, as he’s dating the girl Beca happens to be in love with.

Word count: 2005

Rating: T

Entry for Bechloe week, day one: “Because I'm in love with you, dumbass.”

Beta by the lovely @snowonebutyou and thanks to @green-eyed-weirdo for bouncing ideas with me <3

READ ON AO3

*

The muffled giggle greeting Beca when she steps through the door makes her groan. The deep voice that follows confirms that Chloe is indeed not alone, and Beca briefly considers turning around and… going for a walk or something.

But her feet are about to fall off, she feels gross from her overcrowded subway ride home where she’s pretty sure a dude sniffed her hair, and she is really fucking tired.

She’s just flopped down face first on the pull-out couch when the door to Chloe’s bedroom opens, and two sets of feet grow closer.

“You alright, Becs?”

Beca grunts something inaudible in acknowledgment before she rolls on her back. “M’fine.”

“Hey Beca,” Chicago greets her with a soft smile, and Beca somehow manages to leash in her sneer.

“Hey,” she mumbles, the best she can muster when it comes to Chloe’s boyfriend.

Has she mentioned that she hates his guts? Everything is just too… annoyingly nice. His charming smile, his messy but not too messy hair, his sense of humor, and well, his taste in women, as he’s dating the girl Beca happens to be in love with.

Yep. It’s only been four years and a half; not a big deal.

She was this close to admitting her feelings to Chloe, still reeling with adrenaline after her solo performance, when Chloe ran to Army Boy instead. Beca doesn’t think she knew what a broken heart felt like until that very moment.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Chicago asks, setting his hands on Chloe’s hips.

“Yeah,” Chloe agrees and leans up to kiss his lips. Beca rolls her eyes, grabbing her phone from her back pocket as a distraction from the display of gag-worthy affection.

The door finally clicks shut behind Chicago, and Beca hears Chloe sigh. That kind of content sigh that has jealousy flare up within her because Chloe should be sighing like that because of her.

“I thought he was leaving tomorrow morning?” Beca asks as she scrolls through her Instagram, not really registering the photos zooming past her eyes.

“Not anymore,” Chloe says, biting on her bottom lip like she’s trying to prevent a smile from breaking through. “He’s um, going to be stationed in Brooklyn. His request just got granted.”

A huge lump forms in Beca’s throat as she registers the news and an uneasy feeling seized her stomach. “That’s--” she swallows with difficulty, swiping her tongue over her dry lips. “That’s great, Chlo.”

She soon exits Instagram, opening her safari to look for apartment listings.

*

Finding an apartment in New York City within her price range, as it turns out, is pretty fucking difficult.

You would think Beca was aware of that given the fact that there used to be one more person living in her current studio, with a simple curtain acting as bathroom walls.

(she definitely has PTSD from that night Amy had food poisoning from Taco Bell.)

When Amy moved out, Chloe took her room, because Beca is the night owl of the two, usually coming home late from work or cooking dinner after Chloe has gone to bed.

It’s pushing eleven by the time she makes it back that night, and she prays that Chloe is already in bed. The past couple of weeks following the news have been… weird, to say the least. Beca has been avoiding Chloe, coming up with excuses whenever Chloe asks her if she wants to hang out.

She makes herself a quick dinner (okay, makes might be a bit of an overstatement: she just pours some hot water over instant noodles. Don’t come at her.) and messes around on her laptop for a while, turning the lights off just after one am.

A moan reaching her ears just as she feels herself dozing off has her eyes fly open. A moan that very much belongs to Chloe, and Beca just wants to disappear off the face of the earth. Quiet laughter follows, and when the bed starts squeaking, leaving no doubt regarding what they’re doing in there, Beca ponders smothering herself with her own pillow.

She grabs her headphones instead, hastily placing them over her ears before she hears something that will most likely scar her forever. It somewhat cancels out the sounds, enough for Beca to fall asleep. She flees the apartment before either of them is awake, drowning her sorrows in a double espresso from the corner coffee shop.

Over the next few days, she excels in avoiding Chloe. She knows Chloe’s schedule well enough to come back when she’s either asleep or not there. Or at least she thought so.

“Hey.”

Beca freezes as she closes the door, looking over her shoulder to find Chloe popping her head out of the fridge.

Beca clears her throat, rubbing her nose with her knuckle as she stares down at the scuff of her shoes. “Hey,” she echoes, setting her keys down on the counter.

“Long time no see,” Chloe says as Beca sits on the edge of her bed to take her boots off.

“Yeah um, I’ve been busy,” Beca mumbles as she undoes her laces.

“Busy avoiding me?”

Beca’s spine snaps straighter at that, and she looks up to meet Chloe’s eyes. “No, just--” her shoulder lifts in a half shrug. “I figured you and Chicago might enjoy some private time together.”

Chloe hums like she doesn’t believe her. “You’d tell me if-- if something was bothering you, right? I feel like I’ve done something wrong.”

Beca swallows. “It’s not you, Chlo. I’m just--” she sighs, feeling her frustration rise as she scrapes her brain for a believable lie. “Work sucks and I feel like I’m getting nowhere, so I’ve been crankier than usual.”

Chloe nods, her lips curving in a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry you’re having a hard time at work,” she says. “We should go out tonight! It’s been forever.”

Beca’s rebuttal lies on the tip of her tongue, out of reflex. She swallows it back, because Chloe is giving her those puppy eyes she’s mastered so well, and Beca knows damn well she can’t resist. Besides, she could definitely use a drink. Or ten.

“Yeah, okay. Sure.”

That’s how they find themselves in an overly too loud, busy club a handful of hours later. Beca is definitely tipsy, and Chloe has just ordered shots, so she knows she’s likely to finish the night with her head in the toilet. But she hasn’t laughed like that in a while, and it feels amazing to be… Beca and Chloe again.

It’s ruined just after Beca downs her first shot, when Army Boy shows up.

“Hi!” Chloe exclaims, springing up from her stool to hug him.

Beca grits her teeth so hard that she’s half-concerned they might break, her eyes throwing daggers at Chicago’s head.

“Hey Beca,” he says, apparently oblivious as he slides on the vacant stool.

Beca simply tilts her chin towards him, along with a tight-lipped smile. As Chicago orders his drink with the waitress, Beca shrugs her jacket on. “I’m gonna go,” she announces over the music, not caring one bit that it’s obvious as to why.

She doesn’t wait for a reply, letting her legs carry her towards the exit as quickly as possible as tears burn her eyes. She bumps into someone in her haste and mumbles a disoriented sorry, sucking in a much needed breath as soon as she steps outside of the club.

The music gradually fades away as she starts down the sidewalk, tugging her jacket tighter around her frame when a chill rolls down her spine. She’s not even sure in which direction she’s going, set on hailing the first cab she finds.

“What the hell is your problem??”

Beca freezes at the familiar voice, swallowing around the forming lump in her throat before she turns around. She barely meets Chloe’s eyes. “I’m just tired, Chlo.”

“Bullshit,” Chloe spits out, a scoff flying past her lips as she shakes her head. Her typically warm eyes are bone-chilling icy. “You left the second he got here.”

Beca sighs heavily, her hands forming fists by her sides in an attempt to tame her growing irritation. “Yeah well, maybe I didn’t feel like being the third wheel. I thought it was just going to be you and I, tonight. But you two have been attached to the hip and all you can talk about is Chicago this, Chicago that.”

“Well I’m sorry if I enjoy his company,” Chloe fires back. “You know, the least you could do is be happy for me.”

“Oh great, the guilty card,” Beca says, eyes rolling skyward. She sucks in a sharp breath. “I can’t be happy for you, Chlo.”

Chloe staggers back as though Beca’s words slapped her in the face. “What?”

“I said, I can’t be happy for you,” Beca repeats, her tone rising along with her frustration.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Chloe asks, a mixture of anger, hurt and confusion surfacing in her features. “Why can’t you be happy for me? That’s what best friends are supposed to do, you know. I mean, are you even still my best friend? Because you haven’t been acting like one those past--”

“Because I’m in love with you, dumbass!” Beca finally blurts, a lot louder than necessary. Her declaration catches the attention of a few bypassers, but Beca is too focused on Chloe to care.

She watches as realization dawns in Chloe’s eyes, and all she can hear is her heart beating madly in her ears. She swallows, glancing down at the crack in the sidewalk. “And I’m the biggest idiot in the world,” she mumbles, roughly wiping at her cheeks when she feels a few tears rolling down her skin. “I’ll be out of the apartment by tomorrow.”

Beca is thankful Chloe doesn’t follow her when she turns around and resumes her journey home. She ends up walking all the way, too embarrassed to break down in a cab like in those stupid rom-coms. She texts Amy when she makes it back to ask if she can crash at her fancy apartment, fishing out her suitcase as soon as her friend agrees. Tears keep leaking out, and Beca wipes them away with her sleeve before she starts shoving her clothes into the suitcase, trying to ignore the way her heart aches.

A key slides into the lock just as she’s done packing. Beca straightens and hastily wipes her cheeks dry, even though she knows her bloodshot eyes will betray her.

“You’re really leaving,” Chloe murmurs, her voice barely audible.

Beca sniffles as she heaves her suitcase off the bed and sets it down. “Yep.”

“Why?”

Beca bites back a humorless laugh. “I don’t know, maybe because I’m not a masochist?” She deadpans. “Seeing you and Chicago together isn’t exactly fun.”

“We broke up.”

Beca’s breathing halts as she registers the words. Her jaw slacks. “What?”

Chloe clears her throat a little, taking a step closer. She’s fiddling with her keys, something she does when she gets shy, nervous or nervous, or excited. “Well, I broke up with him.”

“You did?” Beca croaks out.

Chloe nods, the corners of her lips upturning in a sheepish smile. “Because it’s always been you, dumbass.”

Beca’s lungs flood with oxygen, and her shoulders slump, releasing the tension at once. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Chloe echoes, raising an eyebrow as she takes another step.

Beca closes her eyes briefly, her head tilting as she frowns. “Sorry, I think my brain needs to be re-booted. Could you um, could you say that again?”

Chloe chuckles, finally closing the remaining distance between them. She cups Beca’s cheek and joins their lips in a soft, lingering kiss. Beca’s knees quake as a bunch of butterflies release in her belly, and she can’t quite believe this is really happening.

She licks her tingling lips when Chloe pulls away, feeling a bit dizzy. “Um, I’m not sure I quite got that one, either. Care for an encore?”

The first of many, many ones.

[cheri-translates]

Headcanon - when he’s drunk, he still loves you

This work, 醉后夜超级喜欢你, was originally written by 喵小柒吃很少 on Weibo, and she has given me permission to translate it 🌸

[ GAVIN ]

Gavin’s drunk?

The man who has never liked drinking much in public is actually drunk?

You open the door, confusion etched on your face when you see Minor supporting Gavin upright. He couldn’t even find his way home. Just how much did he drink?!

While lugging your husband into the house, you cast a doubtful glance at Minor. “Is this your fault?” 

“Of course not!” Minor shakes his head vigorously as he explains. “It’s all because the two of you got married! The others found out about it today, and they blamed Gavin for not telling them earlier. So they got him to drink to make up for it.”

You chuckle internally. This man... there’s nothing embarrassing about getting married!

“Boss!” Minor grins at you. “For all my hard work today, shouldn’t I get a raise?”

You push him out of the door. “This is a personal matter, so there’s no salary involved!”

Gavin is lying on the bed - even though he isn’t wearing a uniform, he still exudes a heroic aura. Because of the amount of alcohol he imbibed, his face is especially red. His handsome eyes are closed, and you subconsciously lean in closer to him, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek.

His eyes suddenly flick open, and he sees your face right in front of him. “You... what are you doing in my house?”

He scoots to the side to put some distance between the two of you. “I’m already married. You...”

Has this man lost his memory?

You give in to the temptation to tease him. “Oh I see... Is your wife a good person?”

At the mention of you, a gentle expression surfaces on his drunken face.

“Mm. She’s very kind, very tender, and very brave.” He pauses, and he tilts his head to the side adorably. “I... love her very much.”

[ VICTOR ]

You pick up the phone call while brushing your teeth. “Goldman?”

“Lady Boss, please open the door. I’ve brought CEO Victor back...”

Brought him back?

You toss the toothbrush aside, wipe the foam off your mouth quickly, and rush to the door.

Goldman strenuously heaves Victor into the house. “You should make something that can help sober him up.”

Supporting Victor, you ask: “What happened? Why did he drink so much?” 

From what you remember, Victor isn’t the type to get drunk easily.

“I'm not sure,” Goldman confesses. “I’m guessing it’s because of you, Lady Boss. CEO Victor seemed melancholic today, so he ended up drinking a lot...”

Hearing this, you finally have an inkling of what happened. Because of a small quibble yesterday, you’ve been giving him the cold shoulder since this morning. You didn’t give him a good morning kiss, and you didn’t send him a single text the entire day.

After Goldman leaves, you sit beside Victor. While staring at him, Victor’s eyes flutter open. In a daze, he asks: “Who are you? Why are you in my house?”

Is this how he plans to break the impasse?

“Where else could I be aside from your house?”

He rubs his forehead, trying to ease the throbbing ache. “I have a wife. Please leave immediately.”

Ah, so he’s drunk silly. 

“Mm. Your wife must definitely be a very nice girl!” You bite back a smile, teasing him.

He’s silent for a while. Then, he sighs. “She’s a dummy.”

Before you can retort, you hear a small voice adding: “But I still love her very much.”

This man and his charm...

[ LUCIEN ]

“Teacher’s Wife, are you at home?” Ah Ming stammers from the other end of the line.

It’s already 11pm and Lucien hasn’t returned.

“I am. Is Lucien with you?” You hurriedly ask for information pertaining to your husband.

“Yes...” Ah Ming pauses. “But Teacher seems to be drunk.”

Drunk? That man doesn’t sleep, doesn’t lose hair, and doesn’t get drunk, right?

A knock at the door interrupts your train of thought. 

You open the door to reveal Ah Ming, as well as... Professor Lucien.

“What happened?” You ask frantically, helping Ah Ming support Lucien into the house. Even though the two of you are carrying him, you sense that Lucien is leaning towards you.

“I’m not certain.” Ah Ming knits his brows. “Professor Chen from the neighbouring office brought his one-year-old daughter to school, and I saw Teacher Lucien playing with her. Later on, he got drunk...”

After thanking Ah Ming profusely, he leaves. You walk over to Lucien, taking his chin in your hand: This man still looks so handsome when drunk.

Mired in your thoughts, you’re caught off guard when he suddenly pulls you closer to him.

“What are you doing?!”

“...mm.” Lucien mumbles. “Today, I saw a very adorable Little Lady...”

Little Lady? You recall what Ah Ming said earlier. 

“She was really cute.”

“Hm?” You decide to tease him. “Do you not love me anymore?!”

Lucien chuckles gently. “Of course I love my wife. I love her very very much... But what I meant to say is... I really want a Little Lady too~”

Is Lucien pretending to be drunk?!

[ KIRO ]

“MC, open the door!”

Seated cross-legged on the sofa, you’re in the middle of scrolling through your phone when a sudden voice at the door gives you a fright.

“Savin?” You open the door in confusion, only to see Savin holding Kiro’s jacket in one hand, and the other supporting the man himself.

You assist Savin in lugging Kiro into the house.

After tossing him onto the bed, you ask Savin: “Why did you let him drink so much?” 

“It’s a long story.” Savin explains. “Because of your honeymoon, Kiro had to delay several collaboration projects. Today, two partners came over, so we had two rounds of drinks, and this happened.”

Savin waves goodbye and heads off, leaving you to stare blankly at a completely inebriated Kiro. Looking at him, you don’t know what to say. “Are you stupid?”

“...hmph.” Kiro grunts in his stupor. Seeing his rosy cheeks, you can’t resist but to give them a pinch.

“Ahh, who’s pinching me!” He opens his eyes halfway. “...hmm? Who are you!”

He sits up instantly. “How how how how did you come in? I’m telling you that I have a family!”

Finding his reaction adorable, you decide to toy with him--

“It’s already so late but you aren’t back with your wife? And you still claim that you have a family?”

“Hmph I don’t care. I do have a family...” The alcohol has clearly not left his bloodstream. His eyes flutter shut again. “...Kiro is Miss Chips’ superhero... Kiro likes Miss Chips...”

[ SHAW ]

“...open the door!” Shaw’s voice drifts from outside.

The moment you open the door, you’re left stunned - Shaw’s face is abnormally red. There’s an intoxicated look in his eyes, and he’s leaning on the doorway.

“What’s wrong with you? Come in.” You fling the door open fully, supporting him into the house.

“I’m fine!” He waves a hand in the air, while the other hand rests on your shoulder, leaning his full weight on you.

“You’re so heavy! And you reek of alcohol!” You toss him a look of distaste as you toss him onto the floor. 

He brings you along as he falls.

“That hurts!” You hammer his chest. “Why did you drink so much!”

Seizing this opportunity, he grabs your arm, pulling you towards him.

“Because I missed you~” He grins, and your face reddens.

“You’re so annoying...” 

Just as you try to escape, he grabs you again.

“Don’t go.” His amber eyes are wide open, and he doesn’t look drunk at all. “Who was the man with you today?”

At his words, you think of the playwright who came to the office today to discuss a collaborative project. The both of you had gone to a cafe near the office to talk about it. And Shaw saw it?

“You were watching me?”

“I happened to pass by. Aren’t you going to explain yourself?” The way he’s looking at you makes your heart grow fuzzy.

“It’s just a normal working relationship, so there’s nothing more to say!”

“Oh? Is that so.” Shaw traps you between himself and the floor. “Since you’re not being honest, I won’t hold back...”

-

More translated and original works: here

–

[ Permission to translate ]

喵小柒吃很少: Hello~ Firstly, I’m really touched that you like them, I feel very honoured~ You can translate the works! If more people who like MLQC can read them, I’m very happy too 💝 Thank you!

[lordrethandus]

Daily Writing Challenge 2021 Day 10

Sleepless ( @daily-writing-challenge​ )

World: Warcraft

The gangway stretched out over the pier before dropping onto the wooden platform with a heavy smack. A chorus of footsteps rocked the old galleon as a hundred Kaldorei stepped out from the darkness. Still covered in the ashes of their beloved home, and kin, they shuffled down the gangway with barely a word spoken among them. Stormwind residents gathered to stare at the latest batch of Teldrassil survivors corralled down the docks. Displaced, starving, and in mourning, the Night Elves kept their eyes on the ground, their voices in hushed whispers, and their faces soaked with dirty tears. All but the Tideclaws.

Sayuune looked no better off than the rest of them, but she kept her head held high. A month at sea didn't do her any favors; it had been days since she had access to drinkable water, and nearly a week since she had something solid to eat. Her exhausted eyes were bright with hard headed determination, and her face was as still as stone, yet she staggered and stumbled with every other step.

Her daughter Nodas was faring better, but not by much; her stomach growled loudly and often, while her hungry gaze was fixed on the bands of mercenaries and sellswords who otherwise ignored the flood of incoming refugees. They went about their business in gilded armor and glimmering steel, with swollen coin purses swinging freely from their waists. Surely a few of them wouldn't notice if some of their riches went missing.

"Hello! Hello hello!" Humans descended upon the shuffling crowd pushing or pulling large empty carts. One such creature approached Sayuune and Nodas with an uncomfortable twinkle in his grin. The opulent rings adorning his hands could only mean one thing - merchants seizing an opportunity to prey on the less fortunate. "You need gold! I need moon elf items my collection! We trade be happy!" His Darnassian was awful, but clear enough to understand. Sayuune saw other refugees trading in what little rags they had for copper and silver coins, desperate for a bite to eat and drinkable water.

The last thing Sayuune wanted to part with was her bramblestaff; not only was it a priceless family heirloom, it was one of the only things she had left of her husband. Reluctantly she raised the staff for the merchant to inspect. "How much will this get me?"

"Mom?!" Nodas hissed, her eyes flaring. "What are you doing?!" She squeezed her daughter's hand to get her to quiet down.

"We need food."

Unsurprisingly he ripped them off. A staff easily worth thirty thousand gold was traded for less than three. "What choice do I have…" When they reached the front of the line, Nodas was relieved to find a fellow Kaldorei sitting behind the desk, but Sayuune wasn't so easily pleased.

"Ishnu-alah, sisters." His dull yellow eyes scanned them both with a most unusual scrutiny. "My name is Lieutenant Armin Ashquiver. I'll need your names."

"Sayuune Tideclaw and Nodas Tideclaw." The mother proudly stated; they could take her home, her belongings, even her family, but their names would forever be theirs. He scribbled down their names in silence, adding them to the long list of poor displaced souls now forced to live in this strange and hostile city.

"There's a soup kitchen at the camps you'll be staying in. Courtesy of His Majesty. That should hold you over for the night... but don’t expect much. Most of the crops are headed straight to the warfront." He looked up at Sayuune. "Plenty of jobs out there for a steady income, but they're filling up fast. I know you're tired, but I'd recommend looking before nightfall." He pulled out a piece of paper and planted a red stamp on the bottom. "Enjoy your stay in Stormwind City."

The goopy slop poorly masquerading as soup was a grievous insult to the Kaldorei people, but it was still the best meal she's had since Teldrassil. Nodas ate more than her fair share and fell asleep before their tent was even made, but that hardly mattered to her mother; she was just happy her daughter was finally resting. Sayuune, however, couldn’t rest. Once the tent was built around her snoozing daughter, she departed to the streets of Stormwind to find work.

Shop by shop, street by street, she was hit with disappointment again, and again, and again. Day in, day out, sunset to sunset.

"Sorry we're not looking for applicants right now!"

"I'd love to give you a job but I'm full already!"

"I can't hire you right off the street!"

"A buddy of mine across the city might be interested in extra help."

"Sorry, but we can't - what will my wife think hiring a woman like you?"

"Can't hire an elf around here. I got my reputation to uphold… you understand, right?"

"Yeah babe I can hire you, heheh… how much for the night?"

"You're filthy! Beat it vagrant!"

Two weeks of searching. Two weeks of asking. Two weeks of nothing.

Every time she was turned away, the fake smile and forced persona was whittled down. Nightfall came and went, leaving her exhausted in the Mage Quarter courtyard. Her feet were screaming for rest and she could no longer ignore them; she found the nearest bench and almost collapsed onto it with a well-earned sigh of relief. The gold she earned selling her most prized possession was almost all gone; determination was turning into desperation, and if she didn’t find work soon, her daughter would begin to starve. For now her search would have to be put on hold until the shops reopened in the morning.

A woman eased herself down onto the bench beside Sayuune. Her fragrance was alluring but she couldn't recognize the scent, her silk clothes looked as expensive as the jewelry covering her hands and fingers; her painted nails were quite long, almost impractically so. She made Sayuune feel like a vagrant more than anyone else she's met in this abysmal city. "Hard time finding work?" The stranger asked with a seductively soothing voice. Sayuune was compelled to meet her gaze, but her words caught in her throat the moment she was confronted by her striking beauty; if she wasn't a Highborne, she could fool Sayuune.

"I…" Her timid mutter stirred the stranger to smile, her dark purple lips grinning from ear to ear.

Sayuune didn't notice the woman's hand until her nails traced the base of her chin. "Stunning, aren't I? There isn't a man alive that can resist my delectable charm. The dead ones aren't immune to it either." Sayuune wanted to pull away from her grip, but she felt paralyzed… mesmerized. "But look at you… these high cheekbones… these full lips… these glimmering eyes. You're quite the looker yourself, honey. How long do you plan on wandering these streets like a beggar when you can rule the underground scene like a queen?"

"What… do you…" It was difficult to speak when she gazed into her eyes, almost feeling like she was lost in a sea of swirling quicksilver.

The stranger's smile only grew. "I want to help you get back on your feet. I help run a little organization that's in serious need of gorgeous and flexible women like us. Interested?"

"An escort service?" That was enough to pull Sayuune out of her trance to rise to her throbbing feet. "I can't do that. To even approach me like… I can't. I have a husband I'm waiting on to return from the war… a daughter that looks up to me…"

"A shame." Her tone suddenly changed, as did the frigid expression on her face. "While you wait on your doting man, you and your daughter starve." She rose, towering over Sayuune in her jade heels. "Should you come to your senses, seek out the ugliest worgen you come across in Old Town." An uncomfortable grin spread across her lips. "Tell them Momma sent you." Before Sayuune could speak, Momma tossed a coin purse at her chest. "That's how much my girls can earn in a night. Sleep on it."

Sayuune watched as the elegant woman turned and strode off, presumably to another potential recruit. She waited until she was gone before opening the coin purse. "Impossible!" Her eyes went wide. "Three hundred gold?! She's lying…!" With that kind of income most of her problems would be over. Her and her daughter would eat better than they ever did; her husband would bring back two to three grand every two months… she could out earn that within weeks! Within days!

"No…" Sayuune closed her eyes and shuddered. "To betray Vilaron like this… I couldn't! How could I look him in the eyes if I… sold my body...?"

The journey back to the refugee camps was unbearably long. Her imagination played cruel games by asking her questions she didn't want the answers to. "What if Vilaron doesn't make it back in time before we starve to death? What if this woman already approached Nodas? What if she is being used by one of her 'clients' at this very moment?! What if she refused and they killed her?!"

Sayuune ignored the burning ache in her feet from sprinting back to the camps, darting through alleyways and ducking through corridors to get back to her daughter as quickly as possible. The soft glowing campfires down the hill only hastened her steps until she was almost gliding down the path to reach her tent.

She swung open the drape with an audible gasp, and her fears were put to rest; Nodas stirred in her hammock and mumbled under her breath, her feet blackened and calloused from wandering the streets as well -- yet her face was still wet with tears from crying herself to sleep. As Sayuune caught her breath and quietly approached her, she noticed the crumbled scroll still in her grip. Gently she wiggled it free from Nodas' hand, pulled it taut between her fingers, and read the distinct Darnassian letters neatly sprawled across the parchment.

To Sayuune Tideclaw and Nodas Tideclaw,

I regret to inform you the Sentinels recovered the body of your husband/father Vilaron Tideclaw. He will be delivered within the month so you can send him off properly.

Elune will grant us justice.

-L. Armin Ashquiver

Sayuune only made it halfway through the letter before she was blinded by her tears. The shock of this news hit her in waves, crashing against her composure like the tide against the cliffside; she wanted to scream at the top of her lungs, wishing he left with them when Teldrassil burned. Wishing she could go back in time and save him.

Wishing she was dead.

Yet Sayuune endured - she had to. With a sharp inhale and a weak sniffle, she swallowed her anguish for her daughter's sake, stepped out of the tent, and wrapped her arms around herself. Others receiving similar news took it worse than she did; their screams carried across the farmland and over the pointed tents, filling the air with sorrow so palpable she could taste it every time she licked her lips.

Nodas is all she has left of her beloved Vilaron. She is willing to die for her, now more than ever; if she can lay down her life for her daughter, surely she could lay down her dignity as well. What choice did she have? “What choice do I have...” Every day she spends wasting her time looking for honest work, her daughter goes hungry. "For Nodas… no price is too great…"

With a slight grimace on her face and a shiver up her spine, Sayuune braced herself for the hardship she would endure in the unknowable future.

[rvmmm21]

[ V V S her diamonds ] – ch 04.

[5:45 p.m.] Washed-out rays of sunshine flood the arcade cafe, and Seungwan can’t contain her flourishing smile at the thought of Bae Joohyun visiting her at work. 

. . . . .

Sometimes I wish I could go and live in the clouds of your fantasies.

Being a part-time barista is a safe-haven for all of hers.

The junior buzzes around behind the counter, systematically preparing orders of cakes and coffees on the tiny overhead order slips. A satisfied hum sounds as she finishes prettying the dessert display and slides the glass window closed.

Cake display, check. 

Watermelon lychee-mint crush, coming up.

She dries her hands after spooning the frozen watermelon chunks into the blender, and the crinkle of her leather apron sounds brand new for some reason. Perhaps it’s because she feels brand new. Either way, her customers seem to pick up on her good mood too, and it blows her usually gruelling shift by like a light summer breeze. The hustle of work-pressed university students scrambling for their sugar rushes and extra shots of caffeine dulls in her ears, the memory of the past three weeks sitting at the very forefront of her thoughts. 

The past three weeks of back and forth texting, weekly study dates and a volantly climbing heart rate– wait no, a steadily building friendship.

About halfway through the afternoon, the regular tempo of her shift suddenly interrupts with a swish of silky hair and an award winning smile. 

“Wow, a barista. Cute and talented, I see. Where do I sign up?”

Seungwan adjusts the straps on her apron, blinking. “Taeyeon sunbaenim?”

“Kidding, kidding,” the girl laughs, holding her hand out as if that would somehow quell the bout of unease that had begun to well in the pit of Seungwan’s stomach. 

Remaining professional, she answers with a nervous laugh of her own. “What can I get for you today, sunbaenim?”

Taeyeon hums, tapping a delicate finger to her chin while she stares down at the fancy little menu. A vague smirk graces pink lips as her fingertip traces the bold laminated print. “Hm, what do your pancakes come with?”

Seungwan leans over the cash register to glaze over the small description underneath and then snaps back up, knowing the ingredients by heart already. “Oh! They’re plain buttermilk, but you can choose your topping! Uh… strawberries and ice cream is– it’s a customer favourite, if you’d like.” 

A hum of deliberation. “I see. And do I get special service?”

“S-Sorry?” The suggestion in her tone chokes the girl, unsure of what that means. 

Taeyeon gracefully giggles and leans over the counter to playfully tap Seungwan on the shoulder. “Yah, you’re too funny. I meant an extra scoop of ice cream. Since we know each other, obviously. Why, what were you thinking?”

“Ah! Of course I can do that for you,” she chuckles awkwardly, keying in the order. Seungwan’s fingers flinch around the Amex Black Card when it doesn’t slip out of Taeyeon’s as easily. Chestnut eyes peek up at her, and from the casual smirk on her face, the older girl seems to know what she’s doing.

“Oh yeah,” her expression contorts as though she’s trying to recall why she’s now holding up a small queue of foot-tapping, huffing customers. “How’s your project going?” 

She answers hastily, eyeing the holdup. “It’s great! Joohyun unnie is really helping me with this class.”

Taeyeon raises a brow. “Unnie?”

“Y-Yeah, Joohyun unnie’s great, can– can I take your card, please?” she reiterates.

“Ah,” the other girl finally nods in realisation, “you two are close friends now. That’s great! I’m glad to hear it’s going well.” The grip on the credit card slackens. “Thank you, Seungwan.”

Seungwan purses her lips, stiffly rocking on her heels as they both wait for the card reader to go ‘beep’. Once Taeyeon walks away, her tension dispels with a heavy sigh and she signals for the next customer.

Softy’s Autumn Morning comes on the set playlist shuffle. Pleasant lo-fi beats ripple through the cafe and Seungwan gently bops along as she works, carefully eyeing the bubbling pancake mix to make sure it doesn’t burn. 

Time seems to slow to a glacial pace. That is, until the little bronze bell chimes and a certain someone walks in. Seungwan recognises that vintage Balenciaga Defile Sport hoodie in a heartbeat. Her legs kick into gear and she rushes over to meet her. Joohyun approaches the counter with her signature gaze of boredom, but hides a laugh behind her sweater paw when she sees the barista almost trip over her own sneakers. 

Five minutes later, said barista is hunched over a small cup of latte, hands steadily crafting two pointy milk ears with the help of a toothpick.

As she pops a little bonus on the saucer in replacement of their standard Lotus Biscoff biscuit, Seungwan wonders where Sooyoung and Jennie are, melting a little at how Joohyun looks so small and harmless without the final duo to complete her killer posse. God, when they're all three together, it gets really hard to not believe she'sthe precious daughter of South Korea's most elusive mafia boss. The rumours have to come from somewhere, right? She takes a deep breath to steel her nerves before serving the mafia daughter sitting by the window.

“Enjoy your coffee, unnie!” she chirps, setting the steaming drink down. Service with a complimentary home baked cookie is her way of saying ‘I think you’re super cool’. 

Totally embarrassed at her dumb little gift, the girl slinks back to her station with sizzling ears before her senior can even thank her.

How cute.

Joohyun’s lips curl into a secret smile at the milk foam cat happily greeting her from her latte.

. . . . .

[7:45 p.m.] Seulgi whines when she goes to get a Cola from the fridge and finds the door wide open with Yerim chugging milk straight from the carton. Her roommate calmly caps the lid, dutifully ignoring her.

. . . . .

Polystyrene containers of spicy tteokbokki, salmon sashimi, crispy pork mandu as well as skewers of various glazed meats glisten deliciously under warm living room lights. It’s the perfect go-to cheat day feast. 

“Unnie, you’re like those tragic lovers in my dramas,” the youngest blurts, chewing on her Yakult straw. “Literally every one of them. Too dumb to confess and then drowns in their tears at night. You gonna break the cycle or what?”

Shock seizes Seungwan’s expression before she shakes her head at the way this heartless dongsaeng just takes her feelings and tosses them around like a salad. Still, she thinks, there’s no harm in being honest.

“What’s there to confess? We’re just friends."

Seulgi and Yerim exchange a silent look at the neat pile of tteokbokki on Seungwan’s plate. They remembered only a month ago, their friend seemed to have eyes for nothing else. The dish was so tasty she could marry it, apparently. But its charms seem to have worn off; now overshadowed by Joohyun’s endearingly obnoxious laughter and just about everything about her.

"Plus, you know, I doubt Joohyun unnie sees me that way either."

An epiphany strikes Yerim and she slaps her hand on the table, jabbing a restless finger at her shocked dorm mates. “Zenitsu, Zenitsu! Unnie, you’re Zenitsu, I’ve freaking figured it out.”

Confusion colours Seungwan’s face. “Zenits… who?”

“Zenitsu from Demon Slayer.”

“What?”

“That mopey kid.”

“Yerim-ah…” 

“Demon Slayer. Yerimie’s bingeing it right now. Anime on Netflix or something,” Seulgi explains through a mouthful of dumpling, “she won’t shut up about it. God help us there’s a movie out already.”

Curiosity soon has the confused girl peering at her screen, determined to find out what she’s being called. Thank god for YouTube. 

The youngest feels the heat as she watches her unnie’s expression become more and more deadpan with every passing video.

“Yerim. What, exactly, do you see of me in this?” Seungwan threateningly questions, holding up a paused clip of a cartoon boy grovelling at the feet of a pretty girl. She wonders if it’s wrong to want Joohyun to actually have mafia connections now… and if she’d be willing to share them with her for… purposes.

She shrugs defensively. “What? Don’t you think he’s cute?”

"Don't worry Wan, I don't see it either," Seulgi jumps in.

‘Cute’ isn’t quite the term. The blonde nonchalantly brings the chopsticks to her mouth and bites down… onto thin air. Much to the amusement of the two across her. “Hey how’s it going with Sooyoung?” she turns her attention to the girl sitting cross-legged opposite.

Seulgi tuts in reply, dangling a salmon slice in front of her unimpressed roomie. “Stop trying to change the subject, Wan. It’s sooo obvious.” After a pregnant pause, she grins like a kid on Christmas morning, spilling her own adventures with her third of the black velvet trio in one breath. “But thank you for asking because we’re going to the cinema this weekend.”

Yerim chopsticks another tteokbokki onto her plate. “Ooh, what movie?”

“Oh, uh…” Seulgi shrugs, “dunno… I think Sooyoung knows more about what’s good, so I’ll–”

“You’re gonna let her decide, is what I’m hearing,” the maknae scoffs with an eye roll.

Seungwan smiles.

“Simps… simps! Help, someone save me, you guys are everywhere!” Yerim pretends to drown on land and her friends resist the urge to jump her on the spot. 

. . . . .

[11:09 a.m.] The raven-haired senior catches her unsuspecting junior on her way through campus gardens the next morning and pries her for answers. 

. . . . . 

“Why a cat?”

Seungwan’s eyes form joyous crescent moons. “Unnie!”

Suddenly, she has to keep her focus from dwindling into how good they’d both look sitting under the shade of that big old oak tree. 

Somewhere through the cottoned clouds of her daydreams, they’re on one of their many picnics. Doughnuts, corn-dogs, toasted sandwiches and bottled juice litter the peach gingham mat they’re sitting on, and Joohyun offers her a corner of her Gilgeori toast. Of course, she cheekily tries her luck, leaving her with just the corner instead. She yelps when Joohyun gives her a shoulder thwack well deserved. 

Clumsy knees knock together as they laugh themselves silly, the powdered sugar on their lips melting into a sweet river every time she connects them with a kiss. 

Seungwan bites her lip, wringing her mind of those thoughts, trying to play down the elation at hearing her senior’s curiosity. “A cat? I-I don’t know, I just think they’re funny and– kinda cute.” Her voice goes squeaky with excitement. “You liked it? Unnie! You should order more coffees with milk in them. I’ll draw you a bunny next time!” 

Joohyun nods, willing to buy the cafe’s entire stock if it meant she got to see Seungwan beam like a praised puppy, all too eager to learn its next trick.

And she might’ve just marched down there right now to do as she’d said… if they weren’t ten minutes late for their class. Suddenly they’re both panickedly clutching at each other, torn between sprinting like they’re being chased by hyenas, turning up fashionably late, or hopping around and freaking out about the fact that they’re already eleven minutes late, now.

Joohyun’s wrist is grabbed just as she’s about to suggest the fashionably late option. Then she’s hurtling forward, struggling to keep her books from falling whilst poorly protesting the early-morning PE session. But Seungwan is too busy shouting nonsense into the skies about how this is the final chance the lightning gods get to strike her down and charge her up.

Which would’ve been convincing had her voice not cracked on every other word.

As the pair clumsily sprint down the path of pastel flower bushes, the older girl can’t remember the last time she’s laughed this freely. She can barely get the words out but she feels like she’d explode if she didn’t. 

“Seungwan-ah! You’re giving me a six pack!”

And when Seungwan turns back to laugh with her, something in Joohyun’s static heart ignites.

. . . . .

In the diamond, star-dappled sky, Cherub wakes from his silken cloud. Lily-white wings unfurl at the latest calling.

[hitbythunder]

Chandrilan Moons - 2

A Kylo Ren x Reader story with much angst, possessiveness and dark themes (warnings will be updated as the story progresses) –> Read also on AO3

Summary: Growing up under the loving care of your foster-mother, Leia Organa, there had been nothing for you and Rey to want for. Though not of kin, you loved Rey as your sister and spent a happy childhood with her on Chandrila. But when the boiling galactic politics demanded for Leia to take action, for the Resistance to rise and fight, the girls could no longer evade the cruelty of the world. Kylo Ren sought a map as a key to revenge, to freedom, and had no use for a force-unsensitive young girl like you. You were simply a means to an end. Until his darkness latched onto you, drawn in by your light as you were by the demon that is Kylo Ren - inevitably gravitating towards each other, bound to be one. Like the Chandrilan moons.

****

____________________________xXx____________________________ 2- Prologue II

It was the following afternoon, when we had lunch with our friends Poe and Rose, as well as two other pilots of Poe's unit.

Dean and Jared? Jack? - I really should pay more attention to such things, if I want to get better at socializing.

Most of the time I felt somewhat uncomfortable even among friends, while Rey seemed to be just in her element, conversing in a charming and slightly flirting manner with ease.

"So what's this about you super-secret mission Poe?" Rose inquired over desert.

"Well it is terribly dangerous and absolutely top-secret, I can assure you." the curly-haired pilot replied, smirking sassy as he leaned with one arm on the table, body twisted casually to the side. He hadn't touched his chocolate-pudding, which he never did actually, and because Rey was too proud to ask for it they would engage in cunning banter before he would eventually give it to her. I had watched the process far too many times by now and thus had begun to bring my holopad to lunch, zoning out in between to read the latest news across the galaxy.

"Oh come on, Dameron!" one of the unnamed pilots groaned, obviously envious of Poe's status as most proficient pilot and commander of the starfighter-fleet.

"Yeah, Poe, give us at least a hint. I know you're dying to boast about it!" Rey grinned from ear to ear, far too much enjoying teasing her friend, while Rose snickered like a little girl with giddiness. In her opinion, Rey and Poe were the perfect couple and the way they stared at teach other with moony eyes was just so romantic - or so Rose had described it to me a few weeks back.

They surely are a handful together, I mused as I watched the exchange, soon choosing to return my attention to the holopad in my lap, browsing through some news.

"Sorry, ladies. My lips-" Poe closed his mouth, index-finger brushing languidly across his full lips in an almost sensual manner. "-are sealed." Pilot #2 whistled indecently, Rose blushing even harder, while Rey remained cool and just glared at Poe. "Fine. I won't tell you of our super-important mission either." she leaned back in her chair and gestured between me and herself.

"You're allowed to go on a mission?" Rose almost jumped out of her seat at the news and the guys too looked rather surprised. Rey's proud smile widened, sitting up straighter in her chair. It was common knowledge around the base that the General stubbornly refused to let her girls go off-planet despite our persistent pleading.

"No way you got the General around on this one." Poe shook his head incredulously, fluffing up his curly brown locks by doing so. Stars, no wonder half of the base's population (aka the female part) fell for the rhoughish pilot.

"You bet we did." Rey scoffed beside her, folding her arms across her chest. "She can't keep us on the ground forever, anyways. In two days we're off and finally get to see someplace else!"

"But you're not in for something too dangerous, are you?" Rose, to the other side of Rey, brought genuine concern to the discussion, the worried expression on her round face most endearing.

"Of course not. Just an easy one, in and out. We'll be back before you know it." came Rey's reply that seemed to put poor Rose at least a little at ease, but pilot #1 apparently didn't bother as he said:

"In and out like on Felucia, you mean?" meant as a joke, his words hung like a dark cloud above the small group, no-body laughing. Rose sat motionless, eyes big and watery. Reflexively, I put my hand on Rey's forearm, sensing her anger as she glared at the pilot from across the table.

"Kriff, Joel!" his comrade hissed at the same time as Poe hit him at the back of his head, not too hard but enough to make him shut up.

Eight months ago, a Resistance unit had been sent to negotiate with possible new allies on Felucia, an insignificant jungle planet with few inhabitants and little natural resources. Thus making for an ideal meeting point if one was to avoid unwanted attention. But after years of (partially open) war, which only marginally impeded the growing influence and military power of the First Oder, the few parties that had maintained their neutrality so far weren't all too eager to change that. It had taken all of Leia's disarming charm, experience and then some convincing to even agree on that meeting on Felucia. And it had ended in a disaster.

Through a well-placed spy, as confirmed later, the First Order had been aware of the meeting and seized this opportunity to remind the rest of the galaxy of the consequences should one merely even consider to side with the Resistance. The knights of Ren, rumored creatures of legend and vile descent, the First Order's most effective and feared unit had been sent there, led by none other than Kylo Ren, rumored heir of Darth Vader. In their wake they had brought destruction and death upon Felucia, hunting and slaughtering every living soul in a blood frenzy. Rose had lost a brother that day, the Resistance yet another straw of hope to turn the tides of the war.

"It will be nothing like that." said I and leaned towards Rose, who nodded in reply and forced her tears away. Hopefully, though, fate wouldn't prove me wrong.

On my way to the private quarters of the base, I walked past the canteen, stopped there as I could make out cheerful voices from within. A moment later, as I was about to peek further into the small hall, Poe appeared in front of me.

"Sorry for Joel's behavior yesterday. He's just a tactless idiot and I know how close you are with Rose." Poe began with a rueful tone, rubbing the back of his head which caused his locks to fluff up even more. It was an unexpected exchange and although he was wrong about me and Rose being besties - that was more Rey to be honest - I felt somewhat flattered by his concern for my opinion about him or his comrades.

"Thanks, Poe. Though he should be apologizing to Rose but that's not your responsibility." I replied and when his face lit up more, I quickly averted my gaze. An odd silence fell between us, which the pilot didn't hesitate to fill in his charming manner.

"Anyways, we're just hanging out before the mission tomorrow." he gestured towards the occupied table at the back of the otherwise empty hall, paused, then turned fully towards me. "Wanna join us?"

As if on cue, when our gazes met, my heart quickened and I felt heat rising to my cheeks. Now he was indeed flattering me, because so far I had only been invited along with Rey to such gatherings and never personally. Since I hadn't had that much experience with guys in my young life, this sudden attention of the handsome pilot surely felt exciting. But as tempting as it was, I had to decline.

"I'd love to, really, but I have meditation-lessons with Rey... and Leia will know if I skip them."

Not that I'm improving that much recently... Still no force-connection in sight...

"Oh, don't bother." how easily Poe waved of a rebuff, so sure of himself, and added without an ounce of doubt: "Then we'll grab a drink together when I'm back."

With a disarming smile and a wave of his hand, Poe made his leave to return to his comrades, while I remained standing at the doorway as if in a stupor, my mind still turning over his words.

Does he mean 'we' as in 'you and I', like the two of us? Have I just been asked out by Poe Dameron?!

"Yeah, great! I-" I stumbled most awkwardly and was probably red as a tomato by now, whispered all to myself as I proceeded down the corridor with a smile. "I'd love that."

+++

+Present day - on board the Finalizer, orbiting Jakku+

Deadly silence hung over the command center of the ship, officers in grey and black uniforms tapping very quietly at their workstations, while General Hux and Kylo Ren had a small stand-off in the middle of the bridge. Although everyone was curious about their conversation, eaves-dropping wasn't a feasible option because the Commander would know immediately if someone's mind was not occupied with their work.

Kylo sensed the staff's unease at his presence, their distrust bordering on superstition regarding his powers, but by now he didn't care much about it. In fact, to have his subordinates tremble at his name gave him a distinct kind of satisfaction as well as affirmation that he was becoming a major entity within the galaxy, a person not to be meddled with. With that in mind, he let his gaze sweep over the sheep beneath him and felt the Force rippling with their fear. If not for his helmet, one could have spied the tiny smirk tugging at his lips then.

"The Supreme Leader will be most displeased if we don't acquire the map soon." Hux's voice brought Kylo back to the task at hand, his helmeted head snapping back towards the ginger-haired man.

"Then why did it slip your grasp twice now?" his voice a hiss, barely concealing his contempt for the man as well as his methods. But before Hux could even think of a snippy reply, an officer to their left announced that the droid containing the sought-after map had been sighted on Takodana.

"Excellent!" Hux beamed and barked a few commands to get a squadron of troopers on-site immediately, a sudden agitation filling the room as everyone was eager to comply.

"Prepare my ship!" Kylo ordered a nearby officer, then said to Hux in a no less commanding voice: "I'll go in myself and get that map."

"How gracious of you to join the efforts." the General sneered, but could not hide his wounded-pride at the repeated failure of his men regarding that blasted map. As reserved and in control Hux might think himself to be, his beetle-eyes betrayed his every emotion so that Kylo didn't even need the Force to have a good guess at the man's thoughts.

"It's not my head that rolls first if this gets fucked up again." he stated boldly and loud enough for everyone to hear, leaving behind a fuming Hux as he marched out of the command center. Truth as it may be that Snoke wouldn't punish Kylo for the loss of the map - not severely and perhaps not even directly - Kylo couldn't let that chance go wasted. If he wanted to shed his former life and become stronger in the Dark Side he needed to best his old master, his cursed uncle, once and for all.

First Luke Skywalker, then Snoke himself, so that there would be no one left to challenge him.

[gagmebucky]

a little out of my depth on this one. don’t be too harsh! 😅

anonymous asked: pls dont shame me for this lmao 🥺 but could you write something about bucky masturbating with the reader’s panties? like he found them on her floor or something and he took them and jerked himself off with them and nutted into them oof 🥴 imma pass out

[neighbor!bucky. masturbation. doll.]

But he’s fueled by the euphoria tunneling into his very being by working your silk up and down his cock, clinched like a vice with corkscrewing motions; he’s fueled by the knowledge that hours before this, you’d been laid up in that luscious bed, legs spread, a dainty hand shoved between them—his name probably on your lips as you rubbed your fingertips against your cloth-clad clit until you doused it with your sticky essence. 

in which you drive bucky to do something he ever thought he would. (includes neighbor!bucky, bucky’s pov, dirty talk via reader, masturbation.)

do not repost.

—

Bucky Barnes doesn’t do cat and mouse. Because, at the end of the day, he’s a wolf and catching a lamb is a mere matter of flashing his teeth. 

There’s no need to chase because his charm is effortless. Dames are already lining up, begging him to take them to bed, so he’s never believed in needlessly pursuing another. To some guys, it’s a sport, a way to boost their ego, but to him, it’s a waste of time and he isn’t that insecure. 

Until now. Until you moved in next door with your seductive looks, enthralling smile and cheeky remarks. There’s too much about you to pinpoint one specific aspect that draws him in like a ship into a storm. 

Maybe it’s because when he flashed you his baby blues and rumbled your name with a naturally husky edge and laid a surefire pickup line on you but you just laughed and shook your head. Maybe it’s because he sees you everyday, getting your mail, lounging by the pool, or purposely changing in the window across from his and a figure that sexy is driving him mad. Maybe it’s because he watches the way you bewitch and throw away your many suitors in the same manner he does.

All he knows is that he wants you. On your knees, on your back, on top of him. And while he’s never had to try before, he’s positive you’ll fall like the rest. In no time, he’ll utter a few filthy litanies that’ll have your head spinning and your panties dropping. 

That’s what he decides on a particular Saturday night when the speakers from your place vibrate over to his. It’s low enough that he can ignore it, but it’s loud enough that it’s not weird that it coins his attention. So fuck the former because he’s a man on a mission, and he refuses to fail. 

Once he’s checked his stubbled jaw and half-hearted chocolate brown bouffant looks in the mirror, he throws something expensive and stylish on before he strides on over with determination ladening his combat boot-clad steps. 

The stars are outshines by the extravagance of your little shindig. Your two-story is lit up completely, in both lights and populace. People are filtering in and out through your opened front door, laughing and smiling with the faint scent of liquor lingering in the air. 

Women and the occasional guy pay him greedy glances, too intoxicated to give a damn about how obvious they’re being. Other than a cocky tilt of his lips, he gives the vaguely familiar faces no recognition. His mind is on one thing—you—and there’s a flurry of tactics he’s considering to reel you in with. 

He weaves through the throng and locates your kitchen where the drinks are being handed out. Not by you, but a girl he remembers you’re pretty close to, and she blushes every time she sees him. And right now is no different. 

Her cheeks burn red as he’s next in line. “H - hi, Bucky,” she breathes and nervously tucks a stray of hair behind her ear. “What would you like? There’s wine coolers, beer, vodka. . .” her voice trails off when she looks behind him, giving a nod before wordlessly scurrying off.

“Crashing my house party, Barnes?” your musically simpering voice calls and turns him around; greeting him is the sight of your alluring form adorned in a short dress. You click your tongue in a tsk and shake your head disapprovingly. “Not very neighborly of you.” 

“Not inviting me to your house party? Not very neighborly of you, doll,” he retorts smoothly, the riposte matching your tone’s fluctuation while his eyes drink you in. The satin wrapped around your skin is cut low, giving him an eyeful of your décolletage, and it stops at the middle of your thighs; suddenly he’s aware how easy it would be to do away with the flimsy fabric.

You fail to suppress a smile. “Considering you fucked most of the guests here, I thought it’d be bad taste.” 

His eyebrow lifts, and he casts a glance around to acknowledge he had, indeed, fucked most of your friends. “Haven’t fucked them all.” He shrugs and regards you with a confident half-smirk, adding, “Not yet, anyway.”

You titter and fold your arms, inadvertently jiggling your breasts in the process. “In your dreams.” 

He licks his bottom lip and shamelessly admits, “I do dream about you, doll. A lot, actually.” Stepping forward, he crowds you against the wall. He flashes his teeth as he stares you down. “Under me, begging and moaning my name, wrapped around my cock while I pound your little pussy drippin’ full of me.”

For a moment, you‘re stunned, and he knows his words have you throbbing—the look on your face is familiar, one he‘s invoked within woman after woman. Your breathing hitches, and your eyes dilate with unmistakable desire. “Y - you wish,” you finally say in a lame attempt to laugh it off and push past him. 

He catches you by the wrist, his fingers dwarfing your tiny limb, and tugs you gently in place so your back is flush against the upright surface once more. This time, both of his hands splay at the spaces between your shoulder and head, cornering you with only an inch separating your bodies. 

“Yeah,” he agrees because he does—his advances are proof of that—and he’s not afraid to own up to it. “But you do, too. You want me every bit as much as I do you.” His eyes drag over your body slow and deliberate as if he can see through your very soul. “It’s obvious. The way you look at me, how your nipples are always hard, when you squeeze your thighs together and think you’re being subtle. You aren’t.” His nose almost touches yours. “Just stop it with the charade and admit that you want me, and I’ll fuck you until you’re crying and can’t stop cumming around my cock.” 

You’re wavering. A battle rages in your narrowed irises, mouth slightly ajar like you’re trying to form a response. It takes a minute—going over the reason for your nonsensical resistance and debating the necessity of it all—but you figure one out, and he doesn’t know where the composture comes from when it grips you. 

Your lashes flutter against your cheekbones, and you breathe a strong, “No.” Tables turned, he falters backward somewhat in astonishment, but on that same exhale, you confess, “I do want you. I want you in every way under the sun. I think about it constantly. What your hands would feel like on me instead of mine. . . if it were your fingers rubbing me to an orgasm instead of my own, or knuckle deep inside me. If I’d be able to take two of your thick fingers, or if I’d be too tight.” 

Each word hits him like a punch in the gut; the sentences ooze wanton honesty, syllables drawn like honey, spoken to fan against his lips tantalizingly. Gaze transfixed on him, he can see the kaleidoscope of sinful fantasies flitting through your mind. He’s sure you can see the feral flame igniting within his. 

Of course, you don’t stop. “I think about how’d you cock looks. . . feels, buried inside me, or fucking my throat. I think about how’d I’d want you to take pictures so I can see my cheeks stuffed, eyes glossy, lips wet with spit and your cum,” you say so simply one might assume you’re talking about the weather. “Most of all, I think about how I know that once you start, I won’t want you to stop even when I tell you to. I’d want you to keep going until I physically can’t, until the only thing I have to ability to do is seize up around your cock, again and again.” 

Your voice has taken on a libertine rasp, translating into a sound that sends a shiver down his spine as you toss your head back and laugh. “God,” you whisper before pushing to your tippy toes, in tandem with fisting his shirt, to speak into his ear. “You should see the amount of panties I’ve ruined because of you. Really high end ones no good ‘cause I’m soaked thinkin’ about what you’d do to me if you got the chance—if I gave you one. Matter of fact, soaked one just this morning thinking about you. It’s why I’m not wearing any right now.” 

Adrenaline and raw hunger flood his veins rushes to his dick. His heart thumps like a jungle drum while concupiscence roars demandingly between his ears; air expels harshly through his nostrils like a bull before charging. He follows the instinct but you dart out of reach knowingly. 

“But no.” You smirk, several feet away now, preening at the way he palms himself uncomfortably through his jeans, and how his jaw ticks. “Those are just fantasies. You won’t ever get to learn what I sound like in the throes of an orgasm, James. I don’t care if I have to abuse every sex toy I have but I am not fucking you. So I suggest you pick someone else around here to be another notch on your belt and fix that—” You nod to the swelled bulge straining against denim, and you declare, “—cause it won’t be me.” 

Without so much as a goodbye, you disappear into the mass of grinding bodies, leaving him painfully hard and alone. 

He can’t get it out of his head. He can’t get you out of his head. An hour later, and your encounter throbs at the base of his skull in unison with an erection. Every line, the tone and the twinkle in your eyes as you said them play like a mantra but instead of calming him down, it only drives him further insane. 

There’s been plenty of interests thrown his way, offers to “help” him with his not-so-little problem caged in his pants, and as tempting as they are, he can’t bring himself to. It’s pathetic, and he nearly punched a wall because seriously when did he become the type of person who’s spurred on by rejection—bittersweet rejection, as yours was. 

That speech, laced with provocation though it was, should’ve been it. Right? He should’ve left, and his dick should be flaccid, and your face, name and existence should never cross his mind again. Yet, here he is, locked in your upstairs bathroom, (because there’s a line otherwise, and he ignored the sign saying do not cross in front of the stairs), unsuccessfully trying to jacking himself off. 

“Fuck!” he just about snarls as his body refuses to give him relief. His third try, and he’s still hard as a rock. Being wound up is only making it worse but he can’t help it; you’re just as teasing in his mind as you are in real life. “Fuck it.” 

He tucks himself in perfunctorily, shirt ruffled and button and zipper undone, and swings the door open haphazardly. He’s gonna fuck one of your friends and pretend it’s you—that it’s you who’s finally given in to let him play as pleases. And he’ll give his best performance, pull out all the stops so she’ll rave to you in the morning. 

That brings a faint smile to his lips. The thought of your best friend ranting to you about how good he fucked her with every detail down to the second has him giddy, and the possibility that you'll masturbate to the hypothetical story suddenly strikes him. 

Mid-walk in the hallway, intention on returning to the party and enacting his plan, he stops. He whirls around, and there, he spots it. The master bedroom—your bedroom, and your innately sultry voice echoes, “You should see the amount of panties I’ve ruined because of you.”

And he takes that as an invitation.

Because you explicitly stated not to go beyond the first level and you apparently trust the herd of drunks below, your door is unlocked; so all he has to do is twist the knob and push in, revealing your sleeping chambers in its almost immaculate glory. 

Cream walls encase a room bigger than his with similarly toned furniture sitting against it. In the middle of mahogany dressers, a grand vanity and a flat screen television is your bed, framed in dark brown wood with a king-sized mattress on top, made neatly in a fluffy white comforter and throw pillows. 

While everything else seems to be pristine, surfaces shining without a speck of dust in sight, items tidily put away, your floor isn’t. Although it does have a mopped sheen, it’s littered in clothing. Yours, clearly, a trail of them leading to the connected bathroom. Amid various dresses and bras, there’s a single pair of panties straddling the threshold; black cotton is displayed with the inside of the triangle panel flipped up, and dark cotton is lightened with a shimmer of residual wet. 

Before Bucky can think about his next move, he’s already picking them up. He clenches the black silk in his hand and instinctively brings them to his nose. Inhaling deeply, a groan wrenches out of his throat from the scent of your feminine musk. 

The olfactory sensory neurons fires to his brain until he’s left with feeling like he just took a shot of the finest liquor. It rattles him to the very bones and electrifies his insides. Smarting shocks needle across his skin while every part of him vibrates with excuritating arousal.

“Goddamn,” he half-chokes, half-growls, his chest falling and lifting raggedly because you smell so fucking good he can practically taste it. It’s uniquely you, but unmistakably stained with the universal scent of cum, and otherwise confirms what you said earlier, that you had drenched them because of him.

And he doesn’t even try to stop as he hurriedly snakes his cock from its confines. With one hand, he holds onto the doorframe; the other, with your used panties webbed across his palm, pinches himself at the girthy base. No lubricant is needed because his tip has been weeping ever since he first saw you and hasn’t stopped dribbling down his well-endowed length. 

Slicked up, he grits his teeth and works the worn attire along his erection. Somewhere in his mind, he expects to fail again at self-pleasure like before, but it seems having your orgasm drenched silk swathed around him helps tremendously with that. 

A tremor wracks his body, hips jutting forth in a consequential thrust. “Oh, f - fuck,” he rasps at the warm feeling prickling from the tips of his toes to his fingers. To think, he can have a harem of women on their knees for him but instead, he prefers getting more satisfaction this. 

If it didn’t feel so fucking good, maybe he’d feel embarrassed—have some sort of shame for such a depraved act. 

But he’s fueled by the euphoria tunneling into his very being by working your silk up and down his cock, clinched like a vice with corkscrewing motions; he’s fueled by the knowledge that hours before this, you’d been laid up in that luscious bed, legs spread, a dainty hand shoved between them—his name probably on your lips as you rubbed your fingertips against your cloth-clad clit until you doused it with your sticky essence. 

“S - shit,” he moans the curse. His forehead falls onto the doorframe, and his nails engraved crescents into the painted wood. Though he may try to muffle them with his plump bottom lip stressed between his teeth, throaty sounds wrest out of his chest and fill the room, an erotic soundtrack in junction with the wet squelching of his hand pumping his cock. 

You besiege his mind, rule with an iron fist while he desperately fucks his own in lieu of you. Your face, your body, and all the turpitude he’d inflict on you because he’d want to consume you in the same way you’ve done him. He’d—he will—show you things those other guys can’t even dream of; you’ll be hooked on him like he is on you. 

A fever is building rampantly within him; he heats like leather in the sun, lava boiling under his skin in preparation to explode. Every defined muscle in his body is coiled with escalating tension while his strokes are becoming sloppier and sloppier. More concentrated at his sensitive tip, he’s coated your black silk in lurid splashes of precum, sluicing your used panties so thoroughly his palm is swamped by the almost-translucent fluid. 

In an embarrassing amount of minutes, the crux approaches at the speed of a comet. A mental imagining flickers through his psyche, snapshots of you, completely undone; tits bouncing as he drives inside you, your inviting lips opened in an o as you exude the prettiest moans and whimpers, his thumb strumming your clit like instrument string as he pummels your channel, the look on your face when he finally blows his load. 

That thought does it. 

“Shit, shit, shit—!” Sensations coalesce, and warmth frays his nerves. Your name tears pass this lips, strangled and breathy, while his hips thrust forward in completion. The volcano erupts, and stream after stream spills into the thin material for what feels like forever. 

His senses skew, blurring as he rides out the highest relief he’s ever felt. Shuddering, he milks every last bit before the intensity dwindles, and he returns to reality; the reality that, yes, he had just experienced a mind blowing orgasm thanks to a measly pair of panties—your used panties.

“Oh, fuck,” he mutters to himself, softening as he tucks himself away and shoves the silk into his pocket. “I’ve really got it bad, don’t I?”

[masterlist / feedback]

[kasieli]

Fights and Flights: What Happens Undercover, Stays Undercover Chapter 8

A/N: Hey, guys, it’s finally here. I figured since some websites don’t entirely work for everyone, I’d just post a text version here, too. Links for the ff.net and wattpad are listed at the end! Also, I may or may not have a small comic that goes along with this ;) Anyways, please enjoy!

---

"You think that just because you're the son of Bruce Wayne, that you can get away with anything." This varsity-jacket-wearing dumbo in front of them was practically fuming. "Well, you're Gotham's little princess after all, aren't you?" He added with a sarcastic smirk as he took one heated stomp closer and closer and closer towards a placid Damian. "Did you know, Damian Wayne," he spat, "I was the hotshot around here before you showed up?" He cracked his neck, rolling it with a wicked smile. "I'd rather keep it that way."

Raven exhaled slowly as her eyes darted around the hallway. Azar, it seemed like all of Gotham Academy was watching. How did Damian's mere action of bumping into this hotshot get him into this predicament? Undercover her ass. This was Damian Wayne! If he tripped over and broke his nose on the sidewalk (not that he would, ever) it would be all over the Gotham Academy newspaper! Of course he would bring attention to any and everything he did — especially running into this sleazebag jock.

Jeez, she knew it wasn't on purpose either but she knew Damian, and she knew (as a solid fact, she might add) that he was entirely enjoying this soon-to-be sprawl.

And as predicted, when her eyes shot over to Damian, while he wore an overall composure of calmness, there it was, right on that smug face of his.

Damian's signature remark — the first thing she noticed when they battled together. That stupid thing she hated to admit that she...kind of liked.

His signature defiant smirk.

Azar.

"Please," Damian purred, his voice low and husky and so...nevermind, "enlighten me as to how you plan to do that."

He sauntered slowly, lips pursed into a tight line, bright eyes aflame, eyebrow quirked, neck bared, and anger vein exposed. How could someone possibly be dumb enough to pick a fight with Damian? The Bruce Wayne's son? And even as just Damian he was a type A "I'll kick your ass if you speak to me" type of person, let alone the separate brat entity that was Robin.

She wished that she was next to him like in battle, ready to beat up this asshole in front of her, but in the rush of the spectacle, she was shoved into the audience. Just a mere spectator — like the rest of the students. Basically...all the students. The next class had already started too, but apparently no one could resist the urge of watching the battle of Mr. Hotshot versus Damian Wayne. She swore even some professors were there watching, too.

Damn, she didn't want to be just a spectator, though.

She wasn't just a classmate to him.

But here...apparently she was...or had to be. Isn't that what she just told him not even five minutes ago, anyways?

"Do you really want to know, princess?" Mr. Hotshot cooed. There were a few snickers from the crowd. Probably from the other jocks.

They were maybe only a few bodies apart now, and she could see Mr. Hotshot's fist clenching, let alone feel the anger that was seething from his body.

Oh, no.

Damian shrugged nonchalantly, his eyebrow quirked. "Why not?"

Oh, hell.

The jock struck, his fist plummeting through the air.

"What?" He sneered as some "oooohs" were emitted from the crowd.

Her hands were sweating. Why were her hands sweating? She knew this guy was no match for Damian and yet...

"I think you missed," Damian said on a deadpan. There was some more laughter from the crowd.

Of course he dodged it. If only they knew exactly what the boy in front of them was capable of.

Mr. Hotshot sighed forcefully, his upper lip quivering. "Why you little —"

He lunged at Damian. If she hadn't known him she would have thought the delicate frame of his was no match for the beefy, bulky jock. Of course Damian was muscular in his own way, but not like this guy -- this guy looked like a horse. She almost snickered at the thought, but then after another miss from the jock she saw Damian's fist clench and -- this wasn't going to be good.

"Stop!"

Before a single thought flashed in her mind, she found herself in between Damian and the jock with a stern stare and a heavy breath.

"Rae, don't," Damian grunted under his breath. His nostril flared ever so slightly and she could tell that while seconds ago he was just mildly irritated, now he was fuming. Of course that change in his expression was so minute that only she would probably notice it, but there was also surprise scribbled in his eyes and as she glanced over at the jock, she was damn sure he noticed it, too.

God, the response was so natural to her, like an instinct. Now she got herself riddled in this goddamn mess which was probably why Damian turned from playful to serious in the fraction of a second. She looked around her at the appalled and excited faces surrounding them, just a sea of anonymous amused spectators, and she felt so...exposed. Why? She was used to this.

"Oh ho ho, what do we have here?" The jock's voice turned low and gruff as he sauntered towards them. His eyes were no longer focused on Damian but rather glued onto...her. What?

"What a precious little girl protecting her precious little princess."

She felt Damian stiffen beside her. He was growing angrier by the second, she didn't even have to look at him to know.

By this point the jock was a mere foot away from her, towering over her with a lopsided smile. The small thought of how Damian's lopsided smile was far far far more charming washed over her. In this guy's defense, there was no warmness in his smile, more like contempt, or eagerness...slyness, anger, even. His eyes darkened as he leaned in...his face was so close. Her breath hitched in her throat.

"Hmm," he hummed. "You smell good." He licked at his lips. "Lavender, is it?"

He breathed in so very close to her ear and for some reason she couldn't move. Her body was so tense. She felt so stiff. Goddamnit, she was submitted into more intense situations than this, and yet...

"You stay the fuck away from her."

Her emphatic shields were up, she knew it. After all, she couldn't last an hour feeling everyone's crushes and teenage-hormone-inflicted emotions in Gotham Academy. Her shields were up, but yet she felt Damian's anger seething, biting into her shields, so powerful it was almost...painful.

"And if I don't?" This time she felt one of the jock's strong, rough hands push some hair, tucking it behind her ear. That's what Damian would do...

A smirk worked its way across his face. "Hey, gorgeous, what do you say, would you like to go to prom with me?"

...What? Prom?

Oh, prom.

She can't believe she forgot. Prom! The spectacle of the senior class. Where girls would gush over their prom dates, hoping to be asked in a romantic way. Although, she wouldn't be surprised if half of the senior class was trying to gather the courage to ask Damian. Damian...she didn't want to go to prom with this jerk in front of her.

By the second she just felt Damian's anger grow hotter and hotter. Her mouth opened slightly, but for the life of her, she couldn't get words out. Part of her was so stunned that he would even dare to make an offer, even though she was sure it was only to get under Damian's skin, but what really shocked her was that...it was working. Damian was angry. It was making him the sort of angry he felt when Batman would deny him a mission. How...Why...? What about asking her to prom would make him so...furious?

Beside her, she felt Damian shift, and not before long his strapping frame was right next to her and his hand was on the jock and suddenly, with a forceful shove, he propelled the jock back a few feet. He was really, really, really angry. Damian was scary when he was this angry.

As the jock sputtered to a stop, the surprise in his face slowly faded as it was replaced with a furrowed brow and a quivering lip.

"I said stay the fuck away from her," Damian repeated, his voice strained as if he was biting back a growl. This time, it was his turn to saunter towards the jock. He seized a hefty chunk of his Gotham Academy varsity jacket and pulled him in. "Don't touch her ever again." In one swift movement, he threw the jock to the floor. "And just so you know," he added sharply, "she's going to prom with me."

What?

There were many gasps from the crowd and probably many more students with broken dreams of going to prom with the dreamy son of Bruce Wayne.

Prom? With him? What the heck? He didn't ever mention this to her!

"Okay, okay, the spectacle is over!" A professor shouted as he was shoving his way past the sea of students, "get back to class!"

With many grunts and sighs, the crowd started fizzling out.

"Shoo, shoo, come on now, you're all late for class."

He turned to them as he said in a stiff voice. "Wyatt (so that was the jock's name!), please make your way to the principal's office. Damian, come with me."

She opened her mouth to say something, but in the time it took her to do so, Damian turned away from her without saying a word, heck, not even giving her a glance, like "screw this guy". Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. As she watched him slip away, she squeezed out a sigh through gritted teeth.

What did she do wrong?

She groaned, turning away. As scared as she was to do so she needed to find out. It was going to eat her alive if she didn't.

"Azar," she grunted, heading towards her calculus class. How could she concentrate with Damian being furious at her -- ugh -- she had to admit it, she absolutely knew she couldn't. She even had an exam, let alone the fact that she wasn't able to finish her homework.

She shook her head and rolled her eyes. Waiting for him to get out detention (because, he was most certainly going to have detention) was going to be awful.

She sighed.

Could her day get any worse?

—

She timed it perfectly. Almost perfectly to the point that she knocked into him as he strode out the principal's door. Any more perfect and they would have collided head first.

"Damian," she gasped in a surprise. Why was she surprised? She expected to meet him here, she knew she would. But her heart -- it was beating so fast.

"Roth," he acknowledged. To her dismay, he was looking straight ahead like before and didn't even glance her way.

Her eyebrows furrowed. Roth? She felt...offended almost. He hadn't called her that in a long time...basically since they met. Shaking it off, she stated sternly, "we need to talk."

To be honest, she didn't expect him to agree -- he wasn't entirely the type of person to take the phrase 'we need to talk' lightly. He wasn't exactly the best at taking confrontations. To her surprise, Damian didn't even flinch but granted he didn't leave, either, so she took that as a reluctant yes.

Good. Even though she didn't even know what in Azar's name she was going to say to him.

She led him to the rooftop in what seemed to be the most excruciating five minutes of her life (Why was Gotham Academy so large?). He said no word, he didn't even look at her once. He made absolutely no sound, it didn't even sound like he breathed. She even had to check if he was still with her, making sure he didn't slip away from her in the silence. In retrospect, those five minutes would have been the perfect time for her to figure out what the hell she was going to say to him, but in reality she couldn't concentrate because her heart was pounding so adamantly against her ears.

When they finally reached the roof, she shut door behind her as the cold air began to bite at her cheeks. It was winter now, and there was a slight blanket of snow covering the city. She cursed silently as she realized she wasn't entirely prepared for their venture out into the cold as her scarf and coat were tucked away in her locker, but honestly there were more important things she had to attend to first.

"We're alone...there's no one here."

She sighed heavily, turning to Damian. He was still looking ahead but seemingly watching the skyline now. His expression turned slightly softer, anyways.

"What, Damian?"

His jaw tensed.

"Damian."

Still nothing.

"What?"

"Nothing is wrong," he finally muttered.

"You called me Roth, stop the bull crap."

A soft siren sang beneath them amidst the subtle breeze, and Raven couldn't help but notice how...beautiful he looked in this very moment. His eyes looked so incredible when the light hit them like that and —

He finally turned to her, a little too quickly might she add. While he seemed tense just moments before, his overall aura was rather stoic, but now...now, it was undoubtedly not stoic. She hated to admit it, but she'd rather it have stayed apathetic, as excruciating as it was. As she looked at him, she sensed anger pouring from his eyes. Yes, his eyes were gorgeous, but anger made them piercing to the point it was almost frightening.

His nostrils flared. Oh, no.

"You're so stupid," he hissed through gritted teeth. "Is this what you wanted? Loads of attention? Well congratulations, because you undeniably just landed us on the front page of Gotham Academy newspaper."

What? What? She was flabbergasted. Just moments before he was so silent, and now he just exploded on her? Then again, it wasn't unlike Damian to do so, but still...he never really did so with her.

She stilled.

That's right, he never exploded at her. Dick, maybe, Beast Boy, definitely, but with her, his explosions were rather mild, not earth shattering like theirs.

"What? Wait..." she sputtered.

But...he just did so. Did that mean...what...why? She tried to form a reply in her mind, but nothing semblance of a sentence came to her, so she scoffed as her mouth hung open, probably looking as floored as she felt.

"I..."

She could have just let anger win. Anger was a good emotion in times like these.

"You..."

Still nothing.

Anger it was, then.

"You're blaming this on me?" she spat, finally. "If your pride could just disappear...just...for one second maybe you wouldn't have gotten yourself into this fight in the first place!"

God, that felt good.

"You could have said 'sorry' and scurried along your merry way," she continued. Oh, she wasn't going to stop now, not now since he was pointing the finger at her. "But noooooooo that's not how Damian Wayne operates, now is it?"

He flinched.

"Raven, just..." He pinched his nose bridge, shaking his head. "You should have let me handle it, not get yourself involved," he countered.

"I was trying to make sure you didn't land your butt in detention! And this is the thanks I get?" she scoffed, shaking her head. "You are so unbelievable sometimes."

"Tt." He shook his head, rolling his eyes.

Oh, he was rolling his eyes at her?

"What is your problem, Damian?"

"I'll answer that when you tell me why you lied to me."

She stilled, and she felt her heart reach an utter stop. What? What the heck was all this nonsense? First blaming her for the fight, now accusing her of lying to him? She tried to piece everything together but it was too much, it was too puzzling, her mind felt like it was spinning. She was so dizzy. Lying to him? When? How?

"I...don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do." He turned to her, giving her a blank stare as if to reiterate his previous point, as if to pry the answer out of her, and it probably would have worked except for the fact that she was honestly floored. What lie could she have told him in the past few minutes? About the fight? She didn't think the fight was her fault. It wasn't her fault whatsoever.

She shook her head. "I don't understand."

Chuckling softly and rolling his eyes again he turned to the skyline. "And you say I'm difficult," he muttered under his breath.

"I'm not trying to be difficult!" she protested. "I've told you before, I'm an empath, not a mind reader. Must I remind you what that means?"

"No, Raven, I know what it means," he snapped with a mocking tone.

God, he was being difficult right now --how could he accuse her of such?

"Okay, then, stop acting as if I know exactly what you're talking about."

He paused, shook his head, then hissed out a sigh. Turning to her, he brought his bottom lip between his teeth, and in a less stressful moment, she would have marveled at how hot it was.

"You don't really care about the Gotham Academy newspaper, do you?"

What? What was he getting at? For Azar's sake she was getting so sick of this emotional roller coaster he was putting her through. First the fight, then lying to him, now the newspaper?

"...What?"

"Being on the front page, dead center, talking about us. You don't really care about it."

"What?"

She couldn't even count how many times she said 'what?' at this point, let alone differentiate when she merely thought it or said it out loud.

"That's absurd," she scoffed, "of course I do. The whole mission —"

"The whole mission thing, I get it," he interjected curtly. "You and I both know that it doesn't actually matter that we're together a lot. In fact, it's actually what would speed this process up exponentially."

"But Bruce..." she whispered.

Damian chuckled again.

"Father isn't stupid. He knows teenagers, and he knows that telling us to not do something would, in fact, encourage us to do it."

He wasn't wrong...especially knowing Damian, that was something he always did. But, even so...

Her eyebrows furrowed. "That's crazy."

"No, it's not," he stated on a deadpan. "He could have just sent me. Or you. Or Beast Boy for all that matters. Why us? Why us together?"

Her eyebrows kept furrowing to the point that she was sure they were touching now. "...Do you expect me to have the answer to that?"

He looked at her with one of his blank stares again, then clicked his tongue.

"Because he knew we couldn't help but become close at the Academy." He paused. "Admit it, Raven. I'm the closest one on the team to you."

Okay, he was right, but she wasn't going to tell him that.

"Oh, don't be so cocky," she mused instead.

"I'm not," he said, his voice sounding a little tight. "We share a similar past. It's only natural that we've become close."

He kept being right about everything, and it was really starting to piss her off.

"Whatever."

"It was intentional from the start. Deep down I'm sure you knew it, too."

He paused again and shot her a glance that looked almost... hurt.

"So...you lied to me. Why?"

How many times was she going to shake her head in disbelief throughout this conversation? "I don't—"

"There's no Gotham Academy newspaper within Wayne manor, Raven," he scoffed. "You think I didn't notice that you were ignoring me there, too? Being on the cover of the newspaper, that's bull shit. I just told the whole Academy that you were going to prom with me, and you haven't mentioned that once."

Shit, he was right. God, why did he keep being right? Everything was happening so fast, so fast, so many things were happening...she had forgotten all about that. She fisted the hem of her skirt as she looked up at him too sheepishly for her liking.

"I was going to..." she whispered.

But...she didn't, even though she had every opportunity to before when they were arguing about who started the fight, hell, he even mentioned the newspaper, but she couldn't dispute the undeniable fact that she didn't bring it up once since he proudly announced it to the crowd.

She opened her mouth to say something, but a heavy sigh from Damian stopped her immediately.

"You're afraid of me, Raven."

Afraid?

"No, I..."

Wait...wait...she was.

Part of her knew that, but she was in so much denial that she had almost believed she wasn't. She was afraid of him. Well, maybe not of him, but she was afraid of the way he felt about her, afraid of the way she felt about him. Afraid of what could have happened, what couldn't have happened. Afraid of that Saturday when they could have...kissed.

"I..."

"You're a bad liar, do you know that?" he stated, smirking a little. "Your fingers always fidget when you lie. You especially like to twist your hair or play with the hem of your skirt. You purse your lips a little more but your eyebrows become less expressive. You—"

"Okay, okay! I get it!" she spat.

God, why did he keep being right?

Plus, he kept putting her on the spot when he knew she hated it. Why wouldn't he just shut up?

"I guess...spending time at the Academy and at the manor and...just...all this time..."

He was looking with her with curious yet stern eyes and part of her had to keep pushing away the thought that a small strand of his hair was unkempt due to the breeze and how attractive he looked in this moment.

"Remember, I can tell when you're lying."

She clicked her tongue. "Give it a rest, would you?" she huffed.

At this point she wanted to squeeze his throat or cover his mouth with...anything...anything to just make him shut up. But as the seconds ticked away, the more she believed her hypothesis to be true. He was doing this on purpose. He wanted to make her angry. And it was working. He took some pointers from that jock earlier, didn't he? Like that jock, he knew exactly which buttons to press to get on her nerves. Why was he doing this to her? It was all getting too much. The newspaper, prom, the fight, the fact that they could have kissed, his goddamn strand of hair that she wanted to push out of his pretty face. Azar, she just wanted this all to end.

"Fine," she grunted, waving him off. She felt a blush flare across her cheeks, but at this point, she didn't even care to hide it. "Maybe I've...enjoyed this...experience. Maybe I don't want to be exposed because I know that'll mean this mission will come to an end..."

She really hoped that answer was sufficient enough. Taking him to the rooftop was to confront him, but it was only turning out to be him confronting her, and she couldn't take it much longer.

"Sure, me too."

She stilled, her breath catching in her throat.

Him, too?

Wait...did she hear that correctly? Him, too? She was so focused on getting him to shut his mouth that it didn't entirely register in her mind what she just said. She just admitted to him that she liked spending time with him...and he agreed. He felt the same way. About what, though? Enjoying his time here, with her, or not wanting the mission to end. Or both?

"And...?" Damian prodded.

"...And what?"

He let out a soft chuckle but there was no humour in it.

"There's something you're not telling me."

She was really starting to get sick of him expecting to know what he was getting at, and him being right about practically everything, and him just prodding her relentlessly.

"What?"

"Listen, we're both enjoying our time here, that's obvious," he said, his cheeks turning red, but before she could really see it, he quickly turned his head away. "But why would you lie to me and make up an excuse about the newspaper? You keep avoiding my question, Raven. Why were you ignoring me?"

Oh.

Oh, that.

She couldn't even relish in the fact that Damian was blushing before she felt like someone had thrown her into a brick wall. Her mind felt fuzzy but oddly clear. Thoughts were rushing through her head but one loud one stood out amidst the rest. She didn't want to focus on it, but it was screaming at her, screaming at her so loudly...she wanted it to shut up, she wanted him to shut up, she just wanted to hide, she just wanted this to end.

She wasn't going to tell him she liked him. Hell, no.

"There's...nothing more I want to say," she murmured.

But why wouldn't he just give up? She was visibly distraught, she knew Damian could tell, but why did he keep pushing her? What did he want from her?

His voice turned into its agonizing know-it-all tone again. "I can tell when you're lying. Tell me, Raven."

Her mind kept reeling. Why wouldn't he let this go?

"What do you want from me? What more do you want me to say? I just...stop, please."

God, at this point she was practically begging. And she never begged.

"I'm not going to stop until you tell me why you've been ignoring me."

Exhaling sharply, she ran her hands through her hair, "I just...I'm gonna go."

There she was, running away from him. Again, and again, and again. If she could just confess she could end this all, but she was so stubborn and so scared. She wanted him to like her back, why couldn't she just admit that to herself? And if he didn't, it wasn't like the world would crash around her, at least she could tell him, at least she would be brave enough to, instead of running away, like everything else in her life.

But her fear always won.

She turned around to head back to the door but --

He grabbed her wrist and spun her around so forcefully that she knocked into him and had to steady herself by clutching his chest. Part of her wanted to let go so she could run away, but her knees felt so weak, too, she felt like she would turn into a puddle if she let him go.

"No, Raven, you're not running away from me this time."

"Please, just stop," she pleaded, shaking her head.

"Raven..."

"I said I don't want to answer you, okay? Just let it go, just let me go. You can't have the answer for everything. The world doesn't work that way."

At this point, she felt tears welling in her eyes. Why was Damian being so cruel?

He paused, looking away. His jaw clenched, and he slowly turned his eyes up, but when they met hers, she saw something different in his eyes. Something she never saw before except for the small spark that appeared for the fraction of a second on that Saturday. It demanded her to stay put, no matter how much she wanted to run away. How could he do that with just one look?

"You...like me, don't you?"

He tore his eyes away again, but he couldn't hide the fact that his cheeks turned bright red. Not this time.

What?...

What was happening? If she thought she was dizzy before, it wasn't even remotely close to the way she felt now. She was never in a centrifuge, but she was sure that it would feel exactly like this. Her breathing was hard and heavy, like there was a force pushing on her chest, and it was making breathing become exhausting.

What...How...what did he mean by that...

"Of course I like you...you're my friend," she stuttered.

There she was, still running away.

He bit his lip again and -- please, just make it stop.

"No, not like that," he exhaled slowly. "Like more than just a friend."

She was so confused, was he the real empath here? How could he just read her thoughts like that? Was she really that transparent? There were so many thoughts running through her mind, but he didn't let her process any of it.

He sighed and relaxed his grip on her shoulders. She didn't even realize he was holding her. Damn it, her heart, she wanted it to slow down. But it just kept on beating faster and faster.

"I'm sorry for pushing you, Raven, I just..I don't want us to run away from it."

Us?...

What did he mean 'us'?

"What...What do you mean?" she gulped.

Really, what was happening?

"Come here," he whispered softly.

It was so silent that she could have missed it, but she was also staring at his lips and they mimicked his words. They looked so soft...

His grip tightened as he pulled her in. They were so close, so very close...like they were on Saturday. A sharp exhale escaped her throat as her eyes met his. There it was again, that look, that spark. God, he was so beautiful, it hurt.

He tucked her hair behind her ear like then. He smelled like he did then. His warmth enveloped her like then. It was all the same. Her powerful heartbeat, her labored breathing, the way the light hit his eyes, the small scar on his right eyebrow, his hand lingering on her cheek. It was all the same...except...

He leaned forward, slightly brushing her forehead with his..his hair was so soft...he smelled so good. His sigh tickled her lips before he pressed them into hers.

Except...

He just kissed her.

---

Here’s the link for it on ff.net and Wattpad

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Fire Meet Gasoline Part One

Javier Peña x Reader

Words: 2690

Part One of ? Summary: Your life is put on the line when you decide to become a CI for the DEA. When your heart starts to influence your decisions concerning the agent that you’re working with, you get lost in the flames. Javi worries that his growing attachment to you could spell danger for the both of you when he discovers that your brother is the right hand man to Pacho Herrera. 

Notes: Two imagines in one day? *gasp* That’s right, I’m posting double for a Pedro Birthday Bonus.  I have an unhealthy love for this man. It’s really a problem. This series is inspired by the song Fire Meet Gasoline by SIA. (And if you don’t understand why I picked it, just go look up the video. You’ll thank me.) And again, I’m not using any real facts for this, I’m only using the character since I’m making a different side plot. 

Warnings: Violence, Language, and I might be getting a little steamy for this series (nothing smutty, but definitely more than suggestive)

-

It’s dangerous to fall in love, but I 

Wanna burn with you tonight

“You look magnificent.” Pacho exclaimed as you ran your hands over the silky emerald fabric of the dress. Your brother sat next to him and looked bored out of his mind. 

“Do you like this one best, or the orange one?” You looked yourself over in the mirror, but there was no question. Green was definitely the dress. 

“Whatever you chose, is my treat.” He smiled and you nearly tackled him with a hug. 

“Pacho, that isn’t necessary-” Your brother started, but Pacho held up a hand to silence him. 

“Consider it a birthday present to the brightest star in all of Columbia.” You gave him a glowing smile and left to change back into your day clothes. Blood or not, Pacho had become your family over the past five years. Your brother was his most trusted right-hand man and he treated you like a sister. He definitely spoiled you like one. 

He was throwing you a huge party for your birthday that night and was sparing no expense. There would be flowers and lights everywhere and plenty of wine. Of course, you made him promise that there would be no product anywhere in the vicinity. Although it was the source of the extravagant life that you lived, you hated cocaine. The vile substance is what tore your family to shreds when you were only eighteen. Pacho understood completely and avidly commanded his men to keep the coke at the door. Of course, that didn’t stop your brother. 

The night glittered with stars and crowds of your friends and your brother’s associates flooded the garden space, filling the air with laughter and chatter. The green dress hugged your body in all the right ways and you earned many intrigued glances from important men- along with jealous glares from their wives. You were the envy of the night. After all, it was your party. You promised your brother that you would refrain from dancing with any strange men, but he also promised not to get high and he looked perfectly content snorting the white powder at the set-up bar. 

You scanned the garden for someone to dance with until your eyes landed on a man sitting at a table by himself. His black button up was partially hidden by his leather jacket. You didn’t recognize him, but he didn’t look out of place. You cut through the crowd and his eyes caught you coming towards him. 

Of course Javier knew who you were. You’d been seen with Helmer ‘Pacho’ Herrera at multiple events, including the wedding that was attacked by Pablo Escobar. Your brother was Pacho’s most trusted adversaries. Luis was in charge of finding and tracking threats to the Cali cartel. Occasionally, he was in charge of disposing of them. 

“You don’t seem like you’re having much fun.” You noted, taking the seat beside him. He gave you a smirk. 

“I am now.” Javier couldn’t deny it- you were stunning. He could understand why Pacho kept you around. With those seductive eyes alone, he was sure you could charm your way in or out of any situation. Mix that with the perfect hair, the lips, the body… you were a bombshell. He looked around, making sure that the kingpin didn’t leave his sight. Luckily, Pacho seemed busy talking up a young waiter. “You must be the princesa of the evening?” 

“Don’t let my brother hear you say that.” You snickered. “He’d say my head has gotten too big. That I don’t remember where we came from.” Your voice trailed off, slipping back into those memories. Memories of a little girl afraid of the dark. You pulled yourself out of those thoughts and your smile returned. “Tell me, dark stranger, do you dance?” You stood up, the silky green fabric swaying loosely around your hips. Javier gulped. 

“I really-”

“Consider it a birthday present.” You didn’t leave him much of a choice, holding out your hand for him to take. Javi stood and shed his leather jacket, letting you pull him into the middle of the dance floor. Dancing wasn’t really the right word for it, but whatever it was, you were spectacular. You put his hands on your hips as they moved with the rhythm. All he had to do was sway along. There was something about him that kept you wanting more. 

There was something between the two of you that Javier didn’t recognize. It wasn’t just lust, which there was plenty of as his hands roamed your body. His heart beat faster every time you looked at him and everytime you flipped your silky hair over your shoulder, he felt the urge to run his fingers through it. What the fuck was wrong with him? 

“There’s something different about you.” You whispered, your lips nearly touching his ear so he could hear you over the noise of the party. 

The music was almost louder than the gunshot. Almost. 

Javi grabbed your arm, pulling you out of the way of the stampede of screaming people. Another shot had you scanning the crowds for the source. One of Luis’ friends stood over the body of a bargirl, blood oozing from the gaping whole where her eye should have been. 

“Shit.” The mystery man muttered. Every part of Javi was screaming to shoot the bastard, but he knew he would be gunned down before he could take two steps. He needed to get out of there. Javi put his hands on your shoulders. “I have to go.” 

“What?”

“I can’t be here.” He insisted. Javier wanted to stay. Goddamn, did he want to stay. But if Pacho found out he was at the party to spy on him and Luis, he would be fish food. Still, a part of him couldn’t just leave. Despite all of his better judgments, he collided his lips with yours. Something ignited, starting the slow burn you were sure would destroy you. He pulled away too quickly. “Happy Birthday, Miss Y/L/N.” You watched as he vanished amongst the crowd fleeing the party. You hadn’t told him your last name. 

“Y/N!” A voice rose above the chaos. Pacho was shoving through guests, his eyes blazing. For a moment, you were actually frightened, not of the crowd, but of him. His hand found your arm and he dragged you through the running guests like fish trying to swim upstream. 

“Pacho…” You struggled to keep up, his fingers digging into your skin. “Pacho, you’re hurting me.” 

“Do you have any idea who you were just dancing with.” He said the word dancing like it left a bitter taste in his mouth. Your fear returned and he didn’t let go of your arm, instead grabbing the other one, pinning them to your sides. You’d never seen him act like this before. Not with you. 

“Pacho, I-”

“The fucking DEA!” He spat. You blinked, shaking your head. 

“What?” 

“His name is Agent Javier Peña.” You knew that name. He’d spoken that name before. “He was the agent that fed us information whe Los Pepes was trying to take down Escobar.” 

“I didn’t know, Pacho.” You insisted, his tight grip now bringing tears to your eyes. “I wasn’t in Columbia during all of that. You know that. Please, you're hurting me.” 

To ensure your safety, Pacho had had you stay with Chepe in New York during the whole Pablo Escobar debacle. You’d overheard little details here and there, including the names of the DEA agents hunting Pablo; Steve Murphy and Javier Peña. The anger in Pacho’s eyes faded and his grip loosened, instead running his hands up and down your arms to sooth you. 

“You’re right.” He sighed, straightening your now rustled dress. “You couldn’t have known. I’m sorry.” He pulled you into a hug, but it brought you no comfort. Your body tensed in his arms and you had to resist the urge to shove away. He pulled away and looked down at the blood pooling on the porch tile. He didn’t bat an eye at the body. “Somebody clean up this fucker’s mess.” You stared down at the girl, disgust building inside of you. She barely looked 18. 

“No,” You said firmly. You pointed at Luis’ friend, Marques. “I want him gone.” You held your head up, trying to look as authoritative as possible. 

“You don’t give orders-” Marques started, but you cut him off with a slap. 

“And you don’t come to my house, shoot up with coke, and shoot up my waitress.” You turned to Pacho. “I want him gone.” 

“Don’t listen to this bitch, Pacho.” Marques snarled. Pacho seized the collar of his shirt and shoved him against the bar, bottles shattering as they hit the ground. 

“Don’t you ever disrespect Y/N.” 

“Pacho-” Luis started, but Pacho gave him that deadly stare, telling him to back off. 

“I will deal with you later.” He spat, turning his attention back to Marques. “You heard her. Now get out.” He let go of him, shoving him hard to the ground. Marques gave Luis a pleading look, but Luis had his furious eyes on you. 

“Fine.” Marques stood up with as much dignity as he could and left. Pacho clapped his hands together. 

“Right, I think that you all have done well at ruining this party, so you can all clean up.” He put a hand on the small of your back. This time his touch was soft, caring. But that didn’t stop the shivers up your spine. “I’m going to make the birthday girl a drink.” 

Walking back through the yard, you noticed a lonely leather jacket draped over one of the chairs. You paused, picking it up, feeling the heavy material in your hands. 

“Whose is it?” Pacho wondered, watching you slip it around your shoulders. You shrugged to cover your lie. 

“No idea.” 

-

You didn’t know how early it was when Luis woke you up. It was still dark out, casting his face with menacing shadows. Since the party had ended early, you decided to get some sleep rather than deal with Luis and his bunch of now-angry high friends. Perhaps you had forgotten that you lived in the same house. 

“What do you want?” You groaned, looking for the clock. 

“Get up.” 

“Luis, what the fuck-”

“I said get up.” He ripped off your blankets, exposing your thin nightgown to the cool night air.  You were suddenly surrounded by men; more of his friends. It was until you saw Marques that your fear woke you up completely. 

“What’s going on?” You raised your voice. Pacho was long gone, but maybe you could wake one of the servants. “Take your inmundicia out of here!” Marques covered your mouth with one hand and wrapped his other arm around your waste, carrying you out the door while you tried to kick your feet. Another man grabbed your legs, holding them together firmly. They took you all the way out to Luis’ waiting car. You were shoved into the front seat and Luis got into the driver’s side. 

“You have humiliated me for the last time.” He spat. 

“You’re high, let me go.” 

“Shut your fucking mouth.” 

“What do you plan to do, huh? Are you going to kill me, Luis?” His icy stare answered for you as he took off down the road. Your own brother. “Pacho will know.” 

“Don’t worry about Pacho.” 

You wanted to scream. You wanted to fight. But what could you do? Your only family was going to kill you. 

Luis drove for another twenty minutes before picking a spot by the river. As soon as the door was unlocked, you figured you might try to escape one more time. You opened the door and ran as fast as your bare feet would take you, feeling broken bottle shards cut into your skin. Marques was faster and stronger, catching you in a matter of seconds. 

“No!” You shrieked, fighting against his steel hold. Luis had the trunk of the car open and waiting. “You bastard!” You could already feel the darkness close around you even though the sun was starting to rise. “You’re just like him. You’re going to kill me just like he killed her!” Luis held up a hand for Marques to wait. 

“That’s the thing, Y/N,” He grabbed a handful of your hair. “You’ll always be the little girl hiding in the cupboard. Still afraid of the dark.” He slammed your head down on the edge of the trunk and you felt the metal slice across your cheek. 

“Luis, please. Don’t do this.” Him and his friends stuffed you into the trunk while one poured the gasoline. Luis threw the leather jacket on top of you. 

“You liked it so much, you can die with it.” He snarled, leaning in one more time. “Say hello to father in Hell.” You screamed and he slammed the hood down. He was too high to notice that the sleeve of the jacket was caught in the mechanism, preventing it from closing all the way. But the dark was enough to make you feel like you were dying. 

You’d been terrified of the dark since you were a young girl. Every time you found yourself in the dark, you went back to that night all those years ago. Even in the trunk of that car, preparing to die, you could hear his shouts and your mother’s screams, along with the sound of cracking bone. 

“We have to get out of here before someone sees us.” A voice said. 

“I want to watch the bitch burn.” 

“Luis, we don’t have time, man.” 

Luis let out a frustrated scoff and you heard the click of a lighter followed by the roar of an ignited flame. Tires squealed against the pavement, signalling your escape. The roof of the trunk was stuck and you pressed your hands against it, the metal immediately burning your palms. You recoiled, but you couldn’t give up. Smoke started to fill your lungs and you knew you didn’t have much time before the fire reached the gas tank and the whole thing blew. You winced through the pain and finally pushed the trunk open. 

You wrapped the jacket around as much of yourself as you could and rolled out of the trunk, your legs only catching the flames for a moment. Hopefully they wouldn’t be as badly burned as your hands. You got as far away from the burning car as you could before your legs couldn’t move anymore. The explosion was deafening and would have knocked you off your feet if you weren’t already on the ground, feeling completely and utterly numb. The only thing you felt was the sting of the leather jacket slipping over the cuts on your arms as you put it on, trying to cover yourself. Your night-gown had torn and you were exposed in multiple places. 

You felt something in the inside pocket and pulled it out. You cradled the small card in your hand, hundreds of plans suddenly forming in your head. Revenge on your brother, but more importantly, an end to the thing responsible for all the pain you had endured, as well as all the pleasure; cocaine. 

-

Javier felt like an idiot. Not only had he kissed Pacho’s Princesa, he had left his jacket at the party. The jacket with his card in it. If they hadn’t already known he was there, they did now. He was on his second glass of whiskey of the night when his phone rang. It was either someone from the department or his death calling. 

“Is this Javier Peña?” A small voice said on the other line. It was a voice he recognized. 

“Who is this?” His tone was harsh and to the point. 

You gripped the phone with a trembling hand, earning strange looks from the drugstore owner. If he wouldn’t help you, you were done for.  You smirked, trying to keep the fear in your voice in check. 

“Someone who knows that you’re one hell of a dancer.”

Group Chat(s)Tag List (You know who you are!): @rae-gar-targaryen​; @jnniferjreau​; @ladamari68​; @libellule2001​; @c-ly-g​; @themandjalorian​; @pascalisthepunkest​

[mangobilorian]

hide ‘n seek | (gen)

Pairing: Toddler! Ahsoka & Plo Koon

Genre: Fluff

Words: 2952 

Summary: “No more questions! Wanna play with Mastha Plo.” She beat tiny fists into his chest. When he had first found her, she had been too shy to even speak. It took her a while to even hold his hand. But now she was pounding her little fists in indignation at a High Council member.

Or: Plo talks to Ahsoka about boundaries, and Mace wonders about the danger level of toddler Togrutas.

As soon as Plo Koon leaves the High Council chamber, he sees a group of younglings anxiously standing. He pays them no mind. After all, they were probably waiting for a glimpse of their favorite Council member. Maybe it’s part of a lesson about the High Council even though there is no teacher present. Whatever the reason is, he does not expect the younglings to ignore Mace or Agen or even Yoda. No, they zeroed in on him .

“M-master Plo?” A young Twi'lek asks, staring up at him. The Nautolan next to her nudges her aside.

“Sorry to disturb you, Master Plo, but we need your help.” The group of five children fidget under his gaze.

“Is that so? Tell me, younglings, why do you need my help?” At this point, the other Council members had stopped, eyeing the spectacle. Mace raised his eyebrow at Plo before heading off to either intimidate Knights or drink tea. Shaak had smiled at the children, but they didn’t even look at her.

“One of our crèche mates keeps asking for you.” The boy says.

“And she cries all the time and won’t stop.” The Twi'lek butts in.

“We tell her she can play with us, but she doesn’t wanna,” a Human girl says. Plo can tell that they have sincere sympathy for their crèche mate, but they’re also on the breaking point of exhaustion, which is understandable. Not being able to console a friend is stressful enough. Having to live with said inconsolable friend is another matter. Plo already has an idea of who the crying girl is…

“Who is this girl, younglings?” The children glance at each other and peer up at him.

“Ahsoka Tano,” they say in unison. Ah. The small Togruta girl Plo had brought to the temple two months prior. She is the youngest in her crèche—her speaking abilities weren’t as mature as everyone else’s yet—and Plo had wondered if she was settling in. It seems like he got his answer.

“Where is she now?”

“The Room of a Thousand Fountains,” the Nautolan says. “We said that you would meet her there.” The Wookie next to him growls in confirmation.

“Will you be able to help her, Master Plo? We just wanna play with Ahsoka without her crying for you….” The children look up at him, hope shining in their eyes. Or was it sleeplessness?

“I will try my best, little ones.” Plo tries to convey a smile, but the anti-ox mask (and his lack of lips) prevents him. Plo is used to kids shying away from him. After all, he was tall, masked, and taloned. Yet, out of concern for their friend, the children sought him out. Plo reaches out to the Force and- yes, there it is. Nervousness and worry but no fear from the younglings. “Hurry along now. Don’t cause any trouble.” He means it half-heartedly. Plo always enjoys it when the little ones start something chaotic. It’s a welcome break from his job on the High Council.

He’s met with a chorus of “Yes, Master Plo,” and the children scurry off. Plo sighs as he watches them and starts the trek to the Room of a Thousand Fountains. Despite it being the first time a group of younglings waited for him outside the Council chamber, it wasn’t the first time a youngling did. He chuckles at a memory from a few weeks ago.

Plo had exited the chamber alongside his friends and fellow members. He was brought into a discussion about Wookie architecture—a topic that didn’t particularly interest him, but he wanted to show respect for Master Tyvokka even though it had been years since his death—when something small collided with his legs.

Startled, he looked down to see the tops of white and blue montrals. Shaak, who stood beside him, crouched down to her fellow Togruta’s eye level.

“What are you doing here, child? Shouldn’t you be in your lessons?” The young girl looked at the older Togruta then buried her head further into Plo’s legs. She mumbled something that sounded like his name.

“Master Ti, Master Koon.” The two Council members turned to see a Temple Guard. They gestured at the little girl. “We told her to wait and return to the crѐche, but she started crying for Master Koon.” Shaak stood up.

“Well, Plo, since you’re the one she wants, I’ll be leaving.” She gently rubbed the girl’s shoulder and nodded at Plo before departing.

“Thank you, guards. But I don’t think we’ll be needing your help for now.” The Kel Dor reached down to the little girl and hoisted her in his arms. “Why are you here, Ahsoka?” She averted her eyes, content to play with the folds of his robes. The girl didn’t respond, but Plo was patient. He walked down the hallways, taking the long route to the crѐche.

“Wanna to see you,” Ahsoka mumbled.

“And why, Little ‘Soka, did you want to see me?” She scrunched her face in frustration.

“Missed you.” She kept playing with his robes.

“Why did you-”

“No more questions! Wanna play with Mastha Plo.” She beat tiny fists into his chest. When he had first found her, she had been too shy to even speak. It took her a while to even hold his hand. But now she was pounding her little fists in indignation at a High Council member. Plo sighed with mirth.

“What would you like to play, child?” She bit her lip for a second then her eyes lit up with an idea.

“Tag!” She wigged out of his grasp and ran in the opposite direction of the crèche. Oh Force. Ahsoka giggled down the hallway, and spared one glance behind her to see Plo still standing. She stopped then proceeded to stomp her feet with all the anger of a miffed toddler. So Plo did the only thing he could do. He chased after her.

He had the memory catalogued in both Cutest Ahsoka Moments and Devilish Ahsoka Moments . However, his arrival at the Room of a Thousand Fountains forces him to leave the memory. As he wanders deeper into the room, he reaches out for Ahsoka’s force signature. There, shining like an excitable bubble of energy, sits his Little ‘Soka. Plo follows the beacon, letting the Force flow through him.

Just as he’s about to speak, the Togruta spots him and jumps from her seat on a bench.

“Mastha Plo! They were right,” she grins, showing all her teeth. It reminds Plo of a baby shark—not because Ahsoka looks like one. Rather, she is equally predatory.

“Yes, your crèche mates said you were here. I need to talk to you about something important, Ahsoka.” She peers up at him, and Plo has enough strength to resist swooning.

“Was I bad? I’m sorry, Mastha Plo,” she bows her head in genuine sadness, and Plo’s heart squeezes at the display.

“No, you did nothing wrong, child. But we do need to talk about boundaries.” He sits next to her, and Ahsoka seizes the opportunity to settle into his lap. Such an opportunistic little toddler. Maybe this memory would be filed under Ahsoka Not Respecting Personal Space .

“What are boun-dar-ees?” She asks, spelling out each syllable in the hopes to impress him.

“They’re like limits. Rules.” Ahsoka scowls.

“I don’t like rules,” she huffs. Plo laughs, stroking one of her lekkus. The girl purrs, and Plo stores that tidbit of information in a separate folder containing interesting facts about his little foundling.

“I know, Ahsoka. But there are some you need to follow.” She tries to retort, but Plo places a taloned finger on her lip. “If ‘Mastha Plo’ tells you to follow the rules, would you do it?” She nods eagerly. Plo has the feeling that Ahsoka would do anything for the Kel Dor, and the thought is troubling. If she grows too attached to him, that defeats the whole purpose of taking her away from her family in the first place. “Tell me, Little ‘Soka, do you play with your crèche mates?” The question seems to bother her because she curls tighter into his chest.

“No….”

“Why is that?”

“Because I wanna play with you.” Hmm… the girl is already too attached.

“Ahsoka, you need to play with your friends rather than seek me out.”

“Why?” She’s genuinely confused, and Plo considers how he’ll break the rules down for her.

“Because they’re your family now.” Her eyes shoot up to his goggles.

“Family? But you’re family.” He continues to stroke her lek soothingly.

“That’s right. You play with me because I’m family. So you should play with your friends because they’re family too. The Temple is one big family, Little ‘Soka.” She lights up in realization.

“So I can play with Mastha Ti and Mastha Yoda and Mastha Windu?” Plo has to stop himself from choking. He can easily see you with Shaak, and Yoda teaches all the younglings, so you’d be comfortable around him. But the visual of his little Togruta climbing the robes of esteemed champion Mace Windu is… both horrifying and hysterical. Maybe one day, if Plo is in the mood for mischief, he’d unleash the adorable terror that is Ahsoka Tano on the purple-lightsaber-wielding Master.

“You’d have to ask them first if they want to play. And,” he thinks back to previous encounters, “you can’t skip your lessons to see me. If you miss out on learning, I would be sad which means-”

“No playtime,” she finishes off, frowning.

“Yes, no playtime. So, little one, don’t you have somewhere to be?” Ahsoka shakes her head.

“No class. Now is Mastha Plo time.” The Kel Dor sighs. He could indulge the Togruta in this one instance—as if he hasn’t given in to her charms a million times before—and engage in a game.

“Well then, how does hide and seek sound?” Plo is met with Ahsoka’s blank face. He starts explaining the concept of the game, and the girl catches on quickly. At the end of his explanation, she’s already out of his arms and bouncing on her feet.

“Why don’t you hide first, Little ‘Soka, and I’ll find you?” She nods and dashes away before he can start counting. He places his hands over his goggles—no one could tell when he closes his eyes, but the girl would surely say he’s cheating unless he covered them.

Plo counts to twenty before uncovering his eyes and looks around. All he can see are the fountains and greenery. No sign of his troublesome youngling. He debates using the Force to find her quickly—there are important duties to finish—but he wants to find her on his own. And because the little girl is a Togruta, she’d sense Plo before he could sense her. Plo has to be fast and, more importantly, smart.

He peeks behind a bush then a bench then a fountain. Yet there is no Ahsoka. He sighs loudly—loud enough for other Jedi in the room to look over at the Kel Dor Master. Plo places his hands on his hips.

“I wonder where my Little ‘Soka is. She is very good at hiding.” He exaggerates a hum, placing a finger on the bottom of his mask where his chin would be if he had one. Plo doesn’t lose hope and continues his search for the elusive hunter. Of course, her little giggles absolutely did not give away her proximity to him.

The Kel Dor peeks under a bench, twisting his body to get a good look. With no sign of Ahsoka, he is inclined to give up. Then, out of nowhere, someone launches themselves on his back. Tumbling forward, both Kel Dor and Togruta fall to the floor in laughter.

Jocasta Nu, visiting the Room for a meditation break, shushes Plo with a finger. “Please be quiet and respect the ones meditating, Master Koon.” Plo rolls over so Ahsoka sits on his belly. The Jedi Master raises a hand in acknowledgement.

“We will try our best, Master Nu,” he says before picking Ahsoka up and plopping her down on the bench next to him.

“You’re very good at hiding, Little ‘Soka.” She giggles and pokes his cheek.

“Now is Mastha Plo’s turn to hide!”

“I don’t think-” Plo starts, but the girl is already pushing at his chest.

“Go, go!” She insists.

“Fine. But stay quiet, alright? There are people meditating.” Ahsoka nods, but Plo can tell she does it to hurry the game not out of respect for the other Jedi. Plo stands up and takes the girl’s hands in his much larger ones. “Close your eyes and don’t cheat. No Force powers either.” Ahsoka pouts but obliges him.

Sparing one more glance at the girl, Plo walks away to find a suitable hiding spot. As a tall Kel Dor, there isn’t much in the room that could hide him. Maybe the plants? His orange skin would stick out though. Plo eyes a large plant and considers hiding behind it. But it seems like twenty seconds are up because he hears little hums.

“Going to find Mastha Plo,” Ahsoka sings from far away. She keeps repeating the saying in a jaunty tune. Plo settles down behind the plant, making sure to have part of his face exposed. Just as he moves around to adjust in his seated position, Ahsoka enters his periphery. Her montrals must have registered his movement.

He watches the girl scrutinize her surroundings, ducking below benches and around fountains. It’s cute. Too cute. She even assumes a hunting stance, arms outstretched, head darting back and forth. Her eyes pass over his hiding spot, and Plo holds his breath, but she seems to have missed him. Or so he thinks.

The next moment, Ahsoka leaps at him through the bush. A repeat of their previous entangling occurs, and Ahsoka sits on his stomach once again.

“Found you!” She whispers at a volume too loud for whispering.

“Yes you did. I am very proud of you.” Ahsoka beams down at him, raising her arms in a stretch.

“One more… one more round?” She yawns, eyes already closing.

“How about you take a nap instead?” Ahsoka gives a tiny nod and lays across his whole torso. She closes her eyes and snuggles deeper into his robes.

Plo knows he should get up before she truly sleeps. He has responsibilities, and increased interaction with Ahsoka will only worsen her attachment to him. Favoring his presence over other council members is one thing, but crying out for him, skipping lessons, or even foregoing playtime with her friends is another matter entirely. But the little Togruta doesn’t give up. Even if he does try to sever her attachment, it would only end in her mistrust of the Jedi. She would also cry a lot more, and Plo wants to spare the ears of everyone in the crѐche.

He settles for rubbing gentle circles on her back with one hand and stroking her lekku with another. Plo is careful to not scratch her with his nails—he keeps them sharp for a reason. After a few minutes, he hears little snores. Plo basks in the moment and organizes it under Ahsoka’s Sleepy Times .

The room is warm and pleasant, and Plo starts to succumb to the dreamy energy as well. It’s a far cry from his own chambers (the lack of oxygen there is a big difference), but the calm atmosphere is just enough to push him to sleep. Until the Force presence of Mace Windu wanders into the room and heads straight for him.

“Mace.”

“Plo.” The man stares at Plo and the little girl on his chest. “This is why you haven’t submitted the reports of your last mission?” Plo throws a hand out in mock defeat.

“Would you be able to resist an adorable youngling?”

Mace scowls. “Yes. I definitely could. Now get your Kel Dor ass up and finish those reports.”

“Don’t make me release Ahsoka on you.”

“Me? What could she do to me ?” Mace scoffs, slightly offended at the idea of the youngling being ‘released’ on him.

“She said she would love to play with ‘Mastha Windu’ because you’re her family.”

“Now who told her that?”

“Me.” Plo says with as much cheekiness as he can. Mace sighs.

“Fine. You can submit your reports later. But please return the youngling to the crѐche or else they’ll send temple guards to look for her.” The image of the masked guards running around in search of a troublesome Togruta makes Plo laugh.

“I will return her now, Mace. And I’ll get those reports done.” Mace raises an eyebrow. “Later.” Plo wraps an arm around the girl and uses the other to stand up. Together, Plo and Mace exit the Room of a Thousand Fountains.

Plo dutifully carries the sleeping Ahsoka in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder. Younglings, Knights, and Masters alike gawk at the sight in the hallways. The great Kel Dor Jedi Master with a sleeping toddler Togruta. Who would have thought?

He eventually reaches the crѐche, and places Ahsoka in her bed. The Twi'lek from before watches him and mouths a silent “Thank you.” As Plo releases her, Ahsoka starts to mumble something. It sounds a lot like his name and the word ‘family’.

The time to end the girl’s attachment to Plo will come eventually. But that time is not today. Plo needs to consider his growing paternal feelings for the little girl as well.

“Sleep tight, Little ‘Soka,” he says. Plo exits the crѐche with Mace at his side, but not before sparing one last glance at his foundling.

[allyvampirelass29]

Beautiful Wickedness

A NOS4A2 Fanfiction By: Allyssa J. Watkins

Ally lay next to Charles, as the silver morning crept into the overhead canopy, setting the room alight with a soft glow. There was so much they weren't saying, as they laid there, close enough to touch, and a part of her wanted to forget it all........ her team-up with Victoria, her ghastly meeting with the vampire children, their deathly duel on the St. Nick Parkway, and just hold her husband, cling to his beautiful body, until it all melted away like snow........

Charles frowned as that mischievous hand touched his face, trying not to admire how comely her black lace nightdress stood out stark against her white skin. Skin that was right now beckoning to him....... He looked at her stubbornly, fighting his attraction, wary as to just what new hellish plot her sweet touch might conjure for him. You're a scheming minx, Wife, and yet I do so long, even still, to be seduced by you.

"Good Morning, Mrs. Manx," He whispered softly, allowing her to stroke his cheek, drunk with the ache in her touch, wondering if the same hunger lingered on her soft lips. "Are you going to kill me today, Wife? Or shall we linger abed for a bit longer?"

"Charles......." Ally whispered back, anguished, perishing in the thought, and he grabbed her tightly, as she hugged his body to hers, hiding her face in his bared chest.

"If I may be granted the privilege in choosing the weapon of my demise........ This sweet suffocation is a rather fine way to go......." He snickered, feeling her arms wrap tighter around him, her cheek pressed flush to his muscular chest, the slight quiver in her lips, making him wish they were overtaking his right now. So much fuss and fret, so many furious words hurled, this damnable business with Vic, poisoning their happy honeymoon days. But laying here, grasping her, feeling her, both of them desperate to be closer to each other. This was what he'd craved....... What he was so afraid to lose.

"Or perhaps I would prefer to die by a kiss," He simpered, his breath hot, his voice almost a growl and he wrenched her up his body, drowning her in an angry and tender kiss, tasting that ache, that pain of love, those gentle tears.........

"Ally........"

Ally burst into tears as she kissed him back passionately, letting her body say the words she could not, and Charles seized her thigh, punishing her with his affection, feeling her let go.......

"Charles- I could never- I won't let her k-kill-" Ally sobbed harder as she spoke between kisses, her voice broken and desolate, and Manx pulled at her curls to get more control over her lips, and to shield his heart from the pangs of those hopeless sobs.

"Nobody cries in Christmasland, Ally Manx," He breathed, his lips still brushing against hers, and he rested his fingernails on her wet cheek, watching the tears stream steady from those summertime eyes. "You're breaking the rules, My Sweet, and my poor heart. Unhappiness is against the law, or did you forget? Kill me with your kiss, Allyssa, yes, but do be so kind as to make it quick."

"I'll kiss you, Loveliest Husband, but I won't kill you........ Ally's eyes welled with raw emotion, piercing agony, profound joy, her lip still quivering. "I love you more than-"

"Don't-" Charles reprimanded sharply, pressing a trembling razor sharp nail against her wet lips, to silence her, his black eyes welling with anguish. "Don't you dare say it, Allyssa, if you don't mean it, don't induct that slow acting poison we call hope, through my veins. If you hate me, SCREAM IT, strike me, cut me with your precious pen, but don't you tell me you love me, if it's no longer true!!!!"

"Charles!!!!" Ally cried out in another desolate sob, and Charlie hastily lowered his hand to let her speak, still clutching hold of her like she was a fast fading dream. "I LOVE YOU!!!! Of course, I love you, and I know it would be easier for us both, if I didn't, but I don't care!!!! I will LOVE you, even if it kills me........"

Charles felt his chest shudder, the infernal tears stinging his eyes, pouring out of him, laced with the pain, and the poisonous hope, and he cursed them, feeling like he was dying, because he knew it was true. Through the many horrors and heartache, forcing her to hurt whomever he chose, authoring mayhem with her hand, in the midst of a still raging war for the Found Children of Christmasland, somehow the devil and a lost angel, the pure and the soulless had fallen in love.

His vulnerability turned brittle and cold, like ice that could shatter against her warmth.

"I told you....... to fear the far more tender hands. You didn't listen."

Charlie's glistening claws snapped around her curly head, closing tight, yanking her upright, and he waited for the struggle that never came, she didn't even cry out, as he delicately drew his sharp pinky over her full, tremulous lip. He paused with a snarl, and then rested his head atop hers, sinking his cheek into the silky, pillowed curls there, his voice a wounded rasp, as he held her still.

"Do you have ANY idea......... how HARD I tried not to love you........"

"Do you......... love me?" She asked breathlessly, trembling in his forceful hold, but she didn't fight him, and he sighed in defeat, his eyes murderous, his claws still firmly cradling his porcelain doll's head.

"More than Christmas......." His windstorm rage withered into a whisper, trading away his secret, his eyes flashing with something fearfully fond, pressing a kiss into her halo of curls. Damn this perfect creature. "I will confess, I had no designs for this to be a happy marriage, Mrs. Manx. Before I said, I do, tricked you into signing away your life, your hand, on that majestic Christmas Eve, and watched your eyes dance, glistening in the cascading glow of white lights, your beauty purely blinding, as I slid the lie onto your finger......... and let the trap close around you, before that profound moment, I had thought there existed no such thing as a happy marriage. Only fools enjoy such a suffocating union, under the thumb of a woman, as their dreams die slowly with them. What is a wedding, truly, but a man's funeral!?" He snarled coldly, his lip furled, and then slowly, his claws retracted.

"And then you happened, Allyssa Jolene, stole your way into my hardened heart, husband and wife fighting on opposite sides, and still sharing the same bed, as much devoured by the other's passions as ever........ How preposterous! Sickness, health, and all that humbug, but even quarreling with you in conflict is explicit bliss.

He let her go roughly, but did not release her from the intensity of his gaze, eying her with an especially derisive arched brow. "What now, Ally Manx? How does this fated love story end? We have proved beyond doubts and shadows that we cannot kill each other, and yet a problem called Vic McQueen persists, putting us ultimately at odds. I want to kill her, and she wants to kill me, while you seem rather reluctant to let either wish be granted, languishing between........" His smirk crept across his lips, especially smug. "And yet, you're not truly on either side, are you, My Dearest Love? If she knew that you were here, that you had betrayed her, by coming to me, succumbed to one last late night tryst in our marriage bed no less, she'd hate you forever. She'd never trust you again. Oh is there anything more fickle than a woman?

"I know, I shouldn't have come, but I-I couldn't resist seeing you, Charles, touching you, kissing you!!! I need you....... It doesn't have to be this way!!! You can end this, right now........."

Charlie's black eyes snapped, as she hugged his waist, and nestled her curly head into his shoulder, her eyes squeezed shut. So demure, my clever temptress....... But the honeymoon....... is long over.

Ally struggled against him as he seized both of her hands, entwining their fingers, attempting to hold her in place, as he forced her to lay back down, pressing her under him as he moved on top of her, snickering to himself, knowing she wasn't fighting very hard.

"The time for dealing and truces has long passed, My Love, this ends in blood. I AM going to end this", he purred, releasing his talons from one of her hands, to stroke her spilt curls on his pillow, as she looked back with big, sad, green eyes. "And when I do........ Your amusing little girl gang will be finished, and you will never go against me again once you've beheld what I've done to her."

He grinned even more charming, kissing her deeply, but the threat lingered in the heat of his passion, so coldly, that she shivered beneath him.

"I love you, Charles, but I won't let you kill her. I-I have to stop you, save you from yourself, so we can be together."

He kissed her angrily, his tooth catching on her lip, and then grabbed hold of her face to stop her, before she could kiss him back, his voice especially sinister.

"I will kill her....... even if it means sacrificing your love."

"Charles, NO! You cannot mean that!" She cried out in protest, her sweet eyes horrified, and he whisked his razor tipped nails across her dove white cheek.

"I do," He quipped cleverly, toying with the ring on her hand, feeling her close it into a fist, fearing he'd meant to rip it from her delicate little finger. Oh no, Wife....... You WILL wear my ring, and you will come back to me. Once I kill that petulant little bitch, you will have no choice, but to BEHAVE.

"Charles, I beg you-"

"AND if you do manage by some unforeseen twist of fate to leave here........" He finished coolly, cutting off her impassioned pleas. "You will never be free of me......." He leaned in closer, breathing in deeply, brushing his nose against hers, breathing heavily on her lips as he spoke. "I will find you," He whispered sing song, stroking her forehead. "You are my wife til death do us part, and lucky you, for I.......... am immortal."

He chuckled and expected her to continue pleading, struggling, reasoning, but instead she did the one thing he never saw coming........ Ally slowly lowered her curly head, and kissed just so where his wisps of silky chest hair began, her voice so full of desire, his hold loosened completely.

"What makes you think........ I want to be free of you.......?"

Charles' lips parted, euphoric, practically purring as he rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him, clasping the back of her head, nails in curls, kissing her, devouring her lips with an insatiable hunger.

She grinned against his lips, kissing him even more ravenously, hair dangling in her eyes, letting her ache, her love for his beautiful wickedness flood from her very being.

"You always did have such a fiery way with words, My Divine," He breathed feverishly, the two of them sharing air, drowning in each other. "And yet...... Your lips hold more of desire's own fire, than your words could even form."

"I would die without your kiss, Charles. Do not perpetrate so cruel a punishment as starving me of it."

Charles smiled at her very boyishly, scrunching the back of her tresses, as their lips met again in a rush of burning heat, and sultry smoulder.

"No, I think I'll feed it to you instead, tempt you with it, until this crusade against me, holds nothing so enticing. Forget her, Ally. Choose me. Let me make love to you, My Snow Queen, with a passion and tenderness so intense, that we shall transcend our naked bodies, and touch the stars. Stay with me, and I will be again your saintly suitor. We will be as we were........ Once upon a December."

Charlie started to hum the tune to which they had fallen in love inside a snowglobe, moving together in perfect mirror images as one, the motion and lines, living poetry.

Ally gazed back at him lovingly, her face flushed in an enthralled daze as Charlie cast his enchantment, and the pure and utter joy shining in her eyes, colouring her crimson cheek was exquisite, creating in him such an ecstasy, as nothing he ever knew any one thing could inspire.

But just as quickly as the lightning had come and struck, so did the tears, and regretful sorrow. "Oh My Darling Charles! What you have thus described is my own blinding Elysium, my perfect inscape of tender caresses and naked skin, but I-I cannot....... As badly I as want to surrender to this beckoning heaven, become one with my beloved husband in all of his beautiful wickedness, and immortal beauty, give myself to him, consummate our love, I must refuse until this business with Vic is finished. Only when I have you all to myself, and you are not wooed by this war with her, can I ever be yours, body and soul."

"Then FINISH IT," Charles rasped, purposefully breaking the spell, tearing himself off her, and yanking her from the bed, his eyes an angry, burning black oblivion."

"Charlie-"

Charlie charged swiftly to the window throwing it open, and rushed back to take her into his arms, as she froze, confused.

"Please Charlie, don't be angered."

"I am not," He said said much softer, kissing the back of her hand, losing his eyes in her black lace bodice. "I am........ Impatient. So finish it, Allyssa, my brave, defiant wife. FINISH it, DAMN IT!!!! Fly back to Vic McQueen, and give it your best shot, raise hell against me, and don't worry," he smirked as she nervously bit her lip. "Our overnight will be our little secret. I won't tell her that you were weak and came to me. Go, and do your worst, Mrs. Manx, and when you fail spectacularly to stop me, to wrest away my children from their happy home, when I kill Vic McQueen, slowly, leisurely, licking up every delicious moment while I make her suffer right in front of you........ Come back to me, give me my hard won prize, and end this ungrateful ugliness." He seethed, pulling her up against his chest, carried, legs dangling, in his strong, muscular arms, and she gripped onto him tight as he hopped feverishly up to the window's ledge.

"Charles, NO, wait, please-!!! DON'T!!!"

"What's the matter, My Dove? Don't you want to....... fly?"

Charles hurled her out the open window, watching as she tumbled into the snow, more a blackbird in that scandalous gown than a snow white dove. She scrambled to get up, and took off running, and he leant against the window frame, shirtless and smirking, waiting for it. Sure enough, once she'd scurried far enough away, she chanced a glance over her shoulder, to look at him one last time......... He met her lonely gaze, and blew a kiss to her almost spitefully. Fly away, little blackbird, but know......... You will never escape this cage.

[grither55]

The Princess and the Peasant - (An Azula Epic) - Chapter 38 - Time with Her Family

The two noblewomen stood behind a tree gazing at an absolutely baffling scene.

Their ruthless leader was lounging on her side with their young friend in her arms.

They both knew by now that Azula's affection for Elle was genuine.

Anyone who thought otherwise…such as Zuko and Iroh only thought so because they have never seen Azula act this…

Compassionate.

Although like all of the other times that they have witnessed their friend express her feelings for Elle it only lasted for as long as Azula was under the belief that they were alone.

Not even so much as a second after hearing a leaf crunch Azula's golden eyes widened before her gaze narrowed into a ruthless glare once more.

The acrobat sighed with a palm over her frustrated forehead while she watched her spoiled leader rudely shove the now pouting girl away from her.

"Ugh! Look at what you've done peasant! You sullied my armor when you pulled me down to the dirt! And there's even leaves in my hair!" Azula barked in a colder voice only to quickly leap to her feet while gulped under her terrifying glare.

"S-sumimasen! Sumimasen Azula-sama!" Elle cried out with a panicked countenance while her heart began to race once more when Azula pointed a domineering finger down at her.

Mai could only roll her eyes with a small trace of anger in her tawny gaze.

Even though Azula treated Elle far better than she has ever seen her treat anyone else.

And even though the princess was only pretending to be furious.

It still pissed her off when Azula shouted down to Elle as if the girl was offending her simply by existing.

Elle was a sweet girl. And Azula shouldn't be talking down to her.

"Azula! Why do you have to be so mean!" Ty Lee exclaimed with her hands on her hips while she and the other woman made their way over.

"You had better be sorry! Should there be a repeat of this! It's off to Boiling Rock with you!" The princess snorted with an uncaring huff while she watched her little handmaid began rapidly curtsying her.

"Yes princess! Your loyal girl will remember your words!" The blonde-haired girl answered in mid bow only for a hand to swiftly pull her to her feet.

She turned around to find herself peering up at Mai's stoic face while the noblewoman gently pulled her up onto both feet.

And the spoiled princess turned to cast her subordinate a narrowed glare for interrupting one of the rituals of their relationship.

"If you ever want a normal girlfriend…one that's just a tad less overbearing. Just let me know and I'll help you find a suitable date." Mai announced calmly with her tawny eyes staring back at Azula's now wrathful face.

As much as Elle adored Azula she couldn't help but worry that someday the princess will only end up shattering her adopted sister's pure heart.

"No, you will not! I have already declared ownership over this one! She belongs to me!" Azula barked with her fists on her shapely hips while her two-childhood friends shared an exasperated glance.

"How many times do I have to tell you that Elle isn't a slave or a pet Azula? You can't own another human being." The brown-haired woman scolded with a shake of her head while the regal woman scoffed back at her.

"She is whatever I say she is. My word is law Ty Lee. And I say she's my pet." The princess retorted with a huff while she lazily flipped her bangs from her eyes.

"W-what? Date someone else? Why would I ever want to do that oneesan?" The blonde-haired girl squeaked in an appalled voice that brought a smug smirk to her master's lips.

The acrobat just sighed fondly while the markswoman squinted her eyes down at their little sister.

"I don't know Elle. Maybe because you could find someone who won't constantly belittle you and threaten to send you to prison?" The markswoman commented dryly while she gazed down at the younger girl adamantly shaking her head.

"You misunderstand oneesan! That's just Azula-sama's way of telling me that she loves me. When Her Highness says, it's off to Boiling Rock with you peasant! What she's really saying is I love you peasant." Elle insisted with a cheerful smile while her big sisters blinked down at her in amusement.

All the while Azula just glared at Elle with stern golden eyes while the younger girl bashfully smiled in her direction.

"Huh? You don't say little sister." Ty Lee chatted with a fond grin on her lips while Elle nodded exuberantly.

"Oh yes oneesan! It's all about translation." The blonde-haired girl declared with an innocent smile while the monarch began to walk over.

"Very well Mai. If you wish I will permit the tiger monkey to go on as many dates as she likes. And I won't even interfere." Azula stated with a sigh while Elle gazed back at her with the most adorably horrified face.

"No! I-I…I only want you Azula-sama…" Elle trailed off in a sullen voice while Ty Lee patted her shoulder affectionately.

"She's just teasing you Elle." The brown-haired woman assured while the small blonde pouted beneath her hand.

"Really Azula? I find that hard to believe." Mai scoffed while Azula turned to her with a violent smile on her lips.

"On the condition that she defeats me beforehand in an Agni Kai!" The princess shouted in a prideful voice while her childhood friends comically winced.

"Uh…I don't think there is any girl out there that can defeat you in an Agni Kai Azula. Not even Zoe." Ty Lee commented with a sigh while Azula came to a stop before Elle to see that the blonde was smiling once more.

"Well then it is clear that there is no woman more suitable to reign over this one's life!" Azula scoffed with a proud huff before tugging on her swooning pet by the collar of her shirt.

"That's my best buddy! She's the only one for me!" Elle cheered with admiration in her eyes while her big sister's sweatdropped in amusement.

"Well…at least you're smiling once again." The markswoman stated in a softer voice while she offered her young friend a fond smile.

"Yeah! You look a lot happier now." The brown-haired woman agreed in a warm voice while she grinned down at her adopted sister.

"That's because Azula-sama assured me that she would take care of it for me." The blonde-haired girl answered in a timid voice while the other two women turned to cast the princess a questioning glance.

"Take care of it Azula?" Ty Lee queried in an uncertain voice while Azula gazed at the both of them with a familiar expression of murderous intent in her golden eyes.

"Of course, Ty Lee. As soon as I kill the Avatar and end the war. I am going to discover how the girl made her way to the Fire Nation. Once I do…I am going to launch a preemptive assault on those that seek to harm her." The princess announced in a supremely merciless voice while she stared callously at her two stunned subordinates.

It was clear as day that a great change was taking place within Azula.

In all the years that they have known Azula they have never heard her declare war for the sake of another!

"You don't even know anything about these people Azula! How can you be so sure that you can accomplish that? You don't know what weapons they use. How many nations are involved in this 'redistribution' or even how big of an army we would be up against." Mai urged in a disbelieving voice while Azula's red lips pursed into a cold scowl.

"It doesn't matter. I will find the answers to all of those questions. And I will strike before they can even think of striking her." Azula insisted with her callous eyes narrowing into a piercing glare while her childhood friends listened in shock.

"A-arigatou gozaimasu Azula-sama…" Elle mumbled with her amber eyes averting from Azula's possessive gaze while she kicking at an imaginary pebble at her feet.

All the while Mai and Ty Lee stared on in wonderment.

This…wasn't like Azula. It wasn't like her at all!

"Cease that look at once! There will be no more tears for today!" The princess bellowed with a snap of her fingers while she glared down at her intimidated girlfriend.

"Azula…" The brown-haired woman trailed off in a sigh but even she still couldn't resist smiling at the strange yet adorable duo.

"Y-yes princess! I'll be good!" The blonde-haired girl exclaimed with her hands folded before her while her girlfriend stared down at her with callous golden eyes.

"You had better peasant…. because you no longer have a need to cry." Azula stated with her lips curving into a tight snarl just before swiftly reaching out to seize the gasping girl's wrist.

Once more the two noblewomen exchanged a stunned glance with one another before gazing back at their leader in astonishment.

'There are days where I still can't believe that Elle has had this deep of an impact on Azula! I never thought I would see the day when Azula tells a girl that she has no need for tears!' Ty Lee thought with her eyes agape in amazement.

"A-Azula-sama…" Elle stuttered in a voice of limitless worship only for a blush to overtake her cheeks when Azula gently grasped ahold of her palm.

"I will protect you from these people. From everything…and everything." The princess declared with a ruthless growl while her pretty handmaid emotionally clutched onto her hand.

Not a word was spoken by the amazed Mai and Ty Lee.

Because if they so much as spoke a single word then they knew well enough that Azula would slap Elle's hand away.

"My…my princess charming…my princess right." The blonde-haired girl mumbled in a lovably abashed voice while the royal woman stared down at her in approval.

"If anyone ever raises a hand to you again. I will kill them! If I should ever meet anyone that has raised a hand to you in the past…I will kill them as well." Azula hissed with fire escaping her lips while Elle eagerly nodded her little head in understanding.

Despite how touching Azula's blossoming affections were. The two noblewomen couldn't resist the shiver that traveled down their spine.

The people that hurt this girl likely never imagined in a million years that their victim would one day win the affections of a ruthless dictator from a far away land!

"I-I trust in you to protect me Azula-sama. I…I trust in my hero." Elle confided with her emotive amber eyes peering up at Azula's stern face in admiration.

"Then stop your crying peasant! Because I already promised that I would protect you." The princess snapped before releasing her admirer's hand while the younger girl blushed under her strict gaze.

"Wakarimashita!" The blonde-haired girl cried out with sweet laughter lacing her voice while the scowling monarch turned away.

"Aww! That was so touching Azula! You two are so cute together!" The brown-haired woman gushed with a broad grin while her leader glared at her from over her shoulder.

"Well Elle…it looks like you're safe. Not free…but safe." The markswoman commented in her usual deadpan while the acrobat sweatdropped alongside her.

"You misunderstand once more oneesan! It's the opposite. I wasn't free until I met Azula-sama." Elle spoke with a chipper nod while Mai blinked down at her in bewilderment.

The girl's baffling statement earned her even further gushing from the acrobat while the princess's crimson lips began to curl into a pleased smirk.

"You have just as strange a notion of what constitutes freedom as you do in caretaker's and heroes." Mai replied in a softened sigh while Elle just smiled brightly.

"I think it's sweet! Strange. But sweet!" Ty Lee quipped while she watched Elle dashed off to retrieve her backpack from the forest floor.

"Then take heart Ty Lee. Because the tiger monkey is about to become even freer than before." Azula remarked with a noticeable sadistic undertone to her voice that had both of her friends shuddering in pity for the poor girl.

"Uh…what do you mean by that Azula?" The brown-haired woman asked warily while the younger girl now knelt on the ground with her back turned to them.

"What you do you think I mean? That assassin may well have been after her." The princess answered in a quieter voice with her lips pursing into a regal scowl while the two women turned to her in surprise.

"That doesn't make any sense Azula. We didn't even know about Elle's powers until a few hours ago. And we're stranded on an island. The only way that the assassin would have even had been able to communicate with his employer is if the one who hired him had witnessed her power." The markswoman argued while the royal woman listened with her possessive golden eyes never leaving the petite girl's back.

"My uncle saw every moment of it." Azula retorted with anger in her cold voice while the two noblewomen stared back at her in shared concern for the girl's safety.

"Your uncle fled Azula. I have not seen sight of one messenger hawk, and we have been unable to contact reinforcements." Mai explained in a hushed voice while Azula folded her arms over her breasts.

"You…probably won't like this suggestion Azula…but what makes you so sure that it wasn't Zoe that ordered the attack?" Ty Lee inquired in an uncertain voice while Azula stiffened with her paranoid eyes glaring ahead.

"Zoe may possess a barbaric sailor's mouth…and she may be prone to occasional defiance. But her loyalty is to the Fire Nation. And unlike Zuko. I have not betrayed our nation. She has no reason to order an attack on my life…or Elle's." Azula scoffed with her fingers curling up on her biceps while her childhood friends nodded obediently in response.

It was clear that Zoe had impressed Azula so deeply that the princess seemed opposed to the notion that the soldier would order a man to try to cut her line.

"Look Azula…I probably shouldn't even say this. But…it makes a lot more sense that he was after your life. The awakening of Elle's power was likely just a coincidence. And…the assassination was likely plotted out weeks in advance." The markswoman muttered while the acrobat flinched when the monarch clenched her fists with her golden eyes shimmering in increased paranoia.

"From this moment forward I will root out the traitors by their necks and send their heads to both my fat uncle and dear brother! I'll even send them in lovely gift boxes!" The princess announced in a monstrous voice while her two subordinates shuddered in fear.

Mai just stood silent while she gazed away with conflicted tawny eyes.

She couldn't let Azula kill Zuko.

And yet at the same time if she defies Azula again she will be risking the destruction of her entire house!

And she was well aware that a severe punishment awaited her back when they return to Royal Caldera City.

As for what…she could not say.

But for even as sadistic as Azula undoubtably is.

She would much rather Azula choose her punishment…than Governor Yoko.

Just thinking about the head of House Song deciding her fate was enough to send a shudder down her spine.

"J-just please don't hurt the loyal Azula. Y-you have a great deal of loyal people serving under you and you never even acknowledge them. Like that pilot…Nako." The brown-haired woman attempted to reason while her friend glared at her over her shoulder.

"I have acknowledged Nako! I gave the girl a generous promotion and I intend to reward her when we return." Azula insisted with her hands on her biceps while she returned her gaze to her handmaid's back.

Well…in that general vicinity anyhow.

"Yeah…but I seriously doubt that you even knew she existed until today. I'm just saying…that there are many loyal people out there that you haven't even…" Ty Lee trailed off before folding her arms while she turned to Azula in disapproval.

"What?" The princess growled out in a possessive voice while the other two women eyed her pointedly.

"Elle's head is a little higher up Azula." The brown-haired woman informed in a helpful voice while her leader finally removed her eyes from the blonde's backside.

"I own her. I will look wherever I please." Azula snorted in a pompous voice before returning her ogling eyes to Elle's lovely rear pointing out behind her.

"I always took you for a sadist Azula. But not a pervert." Mai spoke wryly only for Azula to roll her golden eyes while still gazing at the girl's ass.

"And I suppose you never once looked at Zuko in the six years you were together?" The princess questioned in a mocking voice with her eyes locked on the back of her lovely handmaid.

"I never said that I didn't. But Zuko wasn't thirteen…" The markswoman answered while the royal woman's fists began to clench once more.

"I caution you to remember that your life is in my hands Mai. With but one word I can choose to dissolve your entire house. With that being said…do mind your own business. Hm?" Azula sneered with a cold smile on her lips while she watched Elle begin to stand up.

"It's all in here. That's good to know. Now I just hope my artbook survived the fire…" Elle mumbled with a finger on her chin while the three women listened in amusement.

"Servant! You dropped something just to the right of you." The princess declared with a smirk on her lips while her two friends turned to her in disbelief.

"Azula!" Ty Lee scolded with a huff while Azula just smiled when Elle turned around to face her.

"I did master? Where?" The blonde-haired girl pondered naively before turning around to peer down at the forest floor.

"Foolish girl. It's right by your feet." Azula taunted with a hand beneath her chin while both women cast her a scolding stare when the girl began to bend over once more.

Only for her smile to vanish when Mai grasped ahold of Elle by the back of her shirt once more.

"You didn't drop anything. Azula is just…being an ass." Mai spoke with her hand pulling Elle up while the girl peered up at her in puzzlement.

"But Azula-sama said I did." Elle protested adorably while Azula smiled at her in approval.

"Azula says a lot of things. Most of them lies." The markswoman sighed while the teenager held her backpack close to her chest.

"Oh! Well it's not my place to question her will. She must have had a good reason for stating as such." The blonde-haired girl exclaimed in an innocent voice while the weapons expert walked alongside her groaning in mild annoyance.

"Humph. The girl understands her place in this relationship." The princess boasted in a prideful voice while she watched her pet scamper over to her side once more.

Despite her friends surprising perversions, the acrobat couldn't help but smile at the two once more.

They certainly were cute.

The blonde padded back over to the monarch's side before she peered up at the older girl with a bashful blush on her cheeks.

"Azula-sama…" The blonde-haired girl began in a lovably timid voice while the princess peered down at her with a fist beneath her chin.

"Hm? What is it servant?" Azula purred with a finger curling up underneath her chin while she stared down at her grudgingly adorable pet.

"Would…would you please bend over to my height?" Elle requested with a shoe tracing a line in the grass while Azula quirked a brow above her.

"Oh, very well. I suppose I could." The princess sighed with a wave of her hand before stooping above the much smaller girl's head.

Only to blink her golden eyes in surprise when the teenager stood on her toes and then planted a shy kiss on her cheek.

"I-I…just wanted to give you a k-kiss for carrying me up the cliff…" The blonde-haired girl stammered in a lovesick voice while the princess stared down at her with increasingly possessive golden eyes.

"That's so adorable Azula! She's such a sweetie." The brown-haired woman gushed while her fellow noblewoman sighed alongside her.

Though Mai without doubt agreed that Elle was a gentle hearted girl.

"You are most welcome peasant. You can repay me by massaging my feet later." Azula stated in a tone of absolute smugness before planting a palm in her blushing pet's hair.

"I-if that's what you want princess…oh no!" Elle cried out with Azula's hand in her hair while the woman stared down at her in genuine puzzlement.

"What? Is it an assassin!" The princess snarled with a puff of fire escaping her nostrils only to relax when her handmaid pointed at her wrist in horror.

"Y-your bracelet. It's…gone." The blonde-haired girl answered in a distraught voice only for her princess to stare down at her with deadpan golden eyes.

"Oh. Yes, it must have burned to ashes in my battle." Azula commented in a casual voice while her childhood friends turned to her in disapproval.

"O-oh…." Elle mumbled in a downcast voice while Azula growled down at her.

"I told you no more crying!" The princess barked with a glower while she compressed her pouting handmaid beneath her petting hand.

"C-can I make…you another one Azula-sama?" The blonde-haired girl inquired in a hopeful voice while she listened to the older girl grunt in aggravation over her.

"It…isn't really necessary…of course that isn't to say that I didn't like it." Azula attempted to explain with a huff only for Elle's shoulders to slump once more.

"O-okay…" Elle trailed off in a voice of low self-worth while Azula continued to scowl down at her.

"Azula would be happy if you made her another one little sister!" Ty Lee called out with a nod while she directed her spoiled friend a pointed look.

The blonde's eyes perked up just before peering up into the princess's cold golden eyes while the regal woman still grasped at her hair.

"If you like…. I suppose…that I could permit it." The princess relented with a twinge of embarrassment on her cheeks before turning her glaring eyes away from her girlfriend's excited face.

"Yay! I am so relieved to hear that you will remain a part of our friendship link!" The blonde-haired girl chirped before assaulting her older girlfriend around her belly.

"Yes…servant I will remain a part of the link." Azula agreed with a sigh before placing her palm back in the girl's hair while Elle snuggled into her belly.

"I…love you Azula-sama." Elle murmured in a lovesick voice with her face buried in Azula's plated belly.

"I…can see tell. And I…am fond of you peasant…. very much so." The princess grumbled with her petting hand in her handmaid's golden hair while the girl remained bent over embracing her stomach.

"That's pink. Don't you think so Mai?" The brown-haired woman pondered with a warm smile while her friend folded her arms over her chest.

"Elle is. But not Azula." The markswoman replied in a softer voice while she eyed the sweet girl hugging the monarch's belly.

"Y-you…and Mai aren't going to fight anymore right?" The blonde-haired girl queried with her amber eyes peering up at her much taller girlfriend pridefully scowling down at her.

The innocent question took all three highborn women aback in some way or another.

Especially after hearing Elle's recent heartfelt confession.

"If Mai can refrain from getting on my nerves…I suppose…that I could refrain from destroying her in turn…" Azula scoffed with her eyes briefly sweeping over Mai's composed face while her palm continued to dance through her pet's golden hair.

"How generous. Since I can see that it bothers Elle…I will do my best to avoid any further arguing from here on out." Mai admitted in a softened voice with a sigh while Ty Lee happily patted her shoulder.

"We're not going to fight Elle. We promise!" Ty Lee assured with a bright grin while Elle smiled over her shoulder at her.

"It…makes me happy to hear that. Because I…don't like to see my family hurt each other." Elle muttered with Azula's hand still petting her head while golden eyes stared down at her in approval.

All of Team Azula was touched by the pure hearted declaration.

Even Azula herself.

"Well, as the matriarch of this 'family' I can assure you all that we will function much more efficiently if all three of you heed my absolute will." The princess announced in a conceited voice only for a loud growling sound to resonate into the forest air.

All eyes drifted to Azula's armored stomach.

Only for Mai and Ty Lee to sweatdrop when Elle sprang to her feet in a trained panic that only served to produce a wide smile on Azula's lips.

"O-oh I forgot that I can't cook you a meal…sumimasen Azula-sama…" The blonde-haired girl spoke with a shy blush on her cheeks only for her girlfriend to pat her head once more.

"See. I told you that I had her trained to stand when she hears my belly growl. This is the ideal servant right here. She is truly attuned to her master's needs." Azula remarked with a refined smile gracing her lips while Elle beamed up at her when her stomach rumbled a second time.

"That's…uh great Azula…" The brown-haired woman sighed only to blush when her stomach began to complain as well.

And soon enough Mai's as well.

"It would be nice to find some food." The markswoman stated in a mildly amused voice.

All the while musing just how they were going to find Elle something that wasn't meat.

And then the princess finally removed her hand from the smaller girl's hair just before gently pushing her little girlfriend away.

Only to scowl when her handmaid attempted to pull a puppy dog pout on her.

"That will be all for now peasant. If you remain on good behavior then I might consider petting you later." The princess snorted in a haughty voice with her fists on her hips while she watched her admirer's face brighten after hearing those words.

"Wakarimashita Azula-sama!" Elle cheered with a hand in the air while Azula eyed her in puzzlement only to shake her head sighing a moment later.

Her betrothed was a strange one.

But to her liking all the same.

Not a second later the blonde's cheeks turned pink when her stomach began to complain as well much to the amusement of her three older friends'.

"Well, I do believe Mai has a good point. Now would be a good time to find something to eat…that doesn't taste like peasant slop." Azula grunted with a moody frown on her lips while she began to walk forward to rejoin her friends.

Only to pause in mid step when she realized that her handmaid had yet to follow her.

She turned around to direct the girl a stern stare only to blink curiously to see that her servant was digging through her pack once more.

"Don't worry Azula-sama! I think I have some food leftover in my backpack!" The blonde-haired girl announced in a joyous voice while all three women stared at her back in surprise.

"Hear that Azula? Elle's got food!" Ty Lee exclaimed with a grin while Azula just rolled her eyes while gazing down at their young friend.

"What manner of food is it? Is it from the palace kitchens?" The princess pondered with a hopeful smile that soon gave way to a frown when the girl shook her head.

"Nope! It's from back home!" Elle chirped only for the three to gaze at her in complete disbelief.

"You have food in your backpack from your homeland that you didn't eat when you were starving on the streets?" Azula demanded with her brows furrowing inquisitively while she stared down at her handmaid's back once more.

"Yep! I liked the fruit that I stole from the fruit stand better! It was a bit more…fulfilling? But this is still yummy!" Elle explained in a hurried voice while Azula scrunched up her nose in comical distaste.

The three sweatdropped while they gazed at one another before returning their focus to their young companion's overjoyed face.

"Well…that sounds promising." The princess complained with a finger rubbing the bridge of her nose while she watched her girlfriend scamper over to her side once more.

"Oh, come on Azula. Now isn't really the time to be picky." The brown-haired woman stated in an appreciative voice.

That was when Mai quirked a brow in curiosity when she noted the girl was holding a small sealed bag with a decorative foreign label that clearly gave away what the contents were.

"Is that…candy?" The markswoman questioned dryly with her words invoking even further annoyance from her leader.

"Candy? Of all the things you could have packed in your bag you left home with candy?" Azula snorted with distaste dripping from her voice while Elle beamed up at her.

"Yeah! Felix threw out all of my vegetarian meals so all I had left to bring with me was candy!" The blonde-haired girl admitted with a shrug while her princess released a heavy sigh.

The three girls were once more reminded that Elle's brother was the complete opposite of the kind hearted girl that they have come to know.

"What an asshole." Mai muttered with disgust in her voice that was shared by the scowling Ty Lee.

"Wouldn't it seem more logical if you…just ate meat until you found something more suitable to your tastes?" The princess asked in a voice of genuine bafflement only to be even further confused when the girl angrily shook her head.

"No! I don't eat meat. Period. It's against my principles." Elle insisted with a shake of her head while Azula continued to scowl down at her.

"Against your principles? I trust you realize that you're going to have to eat meat to survive on this island?" Azula questioned in a harder voice only for her frustrations to soar when Elle adamantly shook her head once again.

"Nope! Not happening! I'll find some berries." The blonde-haired girl retorted with an innocent nod while the monarch stared down at her in disbelief.

"No. Listen here girl-" The princess attempted to lecture only to be cut off by the acrobat's hand.

Her golden eyes burned through the other woman's skull while her subordinate nervously met her gaze.

"No Azula. If you truly care about Elle then you need to respect her beliefs. There's got to be lots of fruit on this island! We'll find her something." Ty Lee assured only for Azula to turn away with a foul tempered glower on her lips.

She knew that Azula was just concerned about making certain that Elle stayed well fed while they were on this island.

Even though the princess was to say the least rather oppressive towards her adopted sister.

It was still sweet of Azula.

She truly doubted that Azula would show such concern for anyone else other than Elle.

"Wrong Ty Lee! I will dictate my girlfriend's life as I see fit! It's for her own good anyhow." Azula retorted with her arms folded over her bust leaving the acrobat to sigh in exasperation.

"Just ignore Azula and tell us about the candy from your homeland." The brown-haired woman instructed with a smile while her controlling friend glared at her through the corner of her eye.

"Well let's see…I have some twizzlers!" Elle exclaimed in an enthused voice Azula stared down at the small bag of red ropelike candy with her golden eyes shimmer in comical annoyance.

"Twizzlers? That's an odd name for a candy." The markswoman commented with an amused countenance only for the royal woman to purse her lips in a spoiled show of disgust.

"It sounds like peasant food." The princess snorted with her face scrunching up in distaste while her two-childhood friends cast her a pointed stare.

"Are you even capable of talking to Elle on equal terms Azula? I get sick of seeing you talk down to her." Mai stated with a frown while Azula turned to glare at her.

Even after all her leader has done for Elle there were moments where she couldn't believe that the girl had the patience to put up with Azula.

And the princess couldn't help but scowl at her friend with a sliver of anger in her stern eyes.

It grew tiring listening to her subordinates constantly nag at her as if she is abusing the girl.

Elle is perfectly content with her as she is.

And she is perfectly content with Elle as she is.

She couldn't help but muse that their bond was something only that they could understand.

Perhaps…that is yet another reason why she is so fond of this one?

"It sounds like peasant food because it is peasant food!" The blonde-haired girl declared with a radiant countenance while she held the small bag up before her princess's repulsed face.

"Ugh! Of all the things you could pack! You have unrestricted access to the palace kitchens and this is what you pick!" Azula snapped with her boot tapping upon the forest floor while Elle's shoulders began to slump.

And just like that the monarch was once again inwardly kicking herself for forgetting just how fragile her admirer's mental state was.

"Sumimasen…" Elle trailed off in a more downcast voice while Azula glared down at her only for Mai to anger her by pushing her aside.

"You're such an ass Azula. Thanks for the food kid. We'll gladly eat it." The markswoman assured before offering the sullen girl a pat to the shoulder while she watched in relief when the blonde cracked a smile once more.

"O-okay. I know it's not really fit for nobility and royalty but I just thought it would suffice for an hour." The blonde-haired girl admitted in a bashful voice while the noblewoman patted her shoulder in reassurance.

"We'll all friends here. There's no division. Despite what Azula believes." Mai remarked with a smile while Elle held up the bag in offering.

The princess's golden eyes flickered in increased ire while she stared at her the other woman's back with an imposing glare.

Only to find herself scowling even further when the acrobat shook her head in disapproval.

"Seriously Azula. What did you pack?" Ty Lee chastised in a protective voice while her entitled friend glared after her.

"An entire warship of foods that's what I packed." Azula answered in a venomous voice while her controlling eyes observed her handmaid begin to hand out the candy to her subordinates.

"And it all burned in the fire. We should just be thankful that Elle is sweet enough to have anything for us to eat! I would love to try your twizzlers Elle!" The brown-haired woman cooed with warmth in her eyes while she watched the adorable girl blush under their combined attentions.

"Alright! I have twenty twizzlers pieces here. Help yourselves. Do…do you want some Azula-sama?" Elle pondered with a self-conscious expression while her master surveyed her with a cold frown on her regal lips.

"Azula would be happy to try some little sis! She's just too proud to admit it so she has to act like a grumpy pants!" Ty Lee exclaimed with a twizzler in hand while she turned to smile at Azula only for the regal woman to release a haughty snort.

"Oh! I get it now! It's sort of like how she always yells at me after we share a cuddle." The blonde-haired girl chirped with a sunny smile while her big sisters now smirked in the scowling woman's direction.

"Fine! I'll eat some of your stupid peasant food if it will make you quit sulking!" The princess huffed with a flip of her ebony hair before stomping over while her pet beamed up at her.

All the while her golden eyes glanced about at her two friends faces while the two women took a curious bite out of the red sticks.

"It's not bad." The markswoman muttered with a softened smile on her lips before swallowing her mouthful.

It had a rather plain taste but she wasn't going to make the girl cry over it.

"Really?" Elle inquired in a hopeful voice while Ty Lee patted her shoulder.

"Yeah! It's good. Thank you, Elle." The brown-haired woman replied while the younger girl's cheeks took on an adorable shade of pink just when the monarch stopped over the lovesick girl.

"For your sake servant you had best hope that this food does not disappoint me!" Azula exclaimed in a beyond spoiled voice while thrusting a domineering finger in her gulping handmaid's face.

And once more the two noblewomen just sighed in renewed sympathy for the sweet hearted girl.

It was obvious that Azula was slowly but surely developing romantic feelings for their young friend.

But that being said…

They had a good feeling that this was going to become the norm of the strange couple.

"I-I strive to please you Azula-sama…all I want is to make you smile…" The blonde-haired girl stuttered in a lovable voice while her master peered down at her in approval.

"Azula…just give the poor girl a break. She's just trying to be nice." Ty Lee pleaded with a heavy sigh while Azula stared down at Elle when the gentle girl held the bag out before her friends scrutinizing face.

"Hm. I am well aware Elle. Now I demand that you give me only the finest in that bag. You can give the lesser ones to Mai and Ty Lee." The princess ordered with a refined smile on her regal lips while she watched her handmaid sift through the bag only for her friends to roll their eyes at her back.

"Poor kid." Mai commented while Ty Lee nodded in agreement only for Azula to glare at them over her shoulder.

"W-will you sit with me while we eat Azula-sama?" Elle requested in a spellbound voice while her heart began to race under Azula's domineering golden gaze.

"That's a great idea Azula! We could sit and talk! Just the four of us! We can rejoin with the others when we're done!" The brown-haired woman agreed in a cheerful voice before seating herself on the forest floor.

In any case it was a welcome relief to get off her broken ankle.

"Anything to spend less time around that House Song bitch." The markswoman responded with a brief scowl before sitting down beside the acrobat.

And finally, Azula released a heavy sigh while she continued to peer down at her lovely girlfriend's abashed face.

"I suppose I could permit it. You are a well-behaved servant. But I will only say this once! Sit. Not snuggle!" Azula declared with a fist on her shapely thigh while Elle rapidly nodded her little head in excitement.

"Yes Azula-sama! Let's have lunch together! As a family!" The blonde-haired girl cheered with unwavering cheer that moved all three of her highborn friends.

Even Azula herself couldn't help but find the girl's infectious enthusiasm to be somewhat endearing.

And then Elle eagerly seated herself across from her two big sisters' while the noblewomen gazed at her fondly while she shyly beamed up at them.

"Humph. Just don't forget that I am the head of this 'family'." The princess scoffed with a smirk before plopping down on her exhausted bottom beside her much smaller handmaid.

"Whatever you say mother." Mai taunted with a sliver of a smirk while Ty Lee giggled in amusement when Azula glared back at them.

"I am going to pretend that I didn't hear that." Azula snorted with her palms on her knees only for her belly to rumble thunderously while she expectantly gazed down at her servant to feed her.

"Here mom eat as much as you like!" Elle cried out with an innocent countenance only Azula to stiffen in humiliation while the other two chuckled at her expense.

"Silence! Or I will strike you both into the ashes of oblivion!" The princess bellowed with her teeth ground together while she held out her open palm when her handmaid handed her a single twizzler.

"But Azula…that has to be one of the funniest things I have ever heard." Ty Lee snickered while she chewed on her food.

Azula just pursed her lips into a wrathful scowl before peering down at her happy pet through the corner of her eye.

"Elle." The princess began with rare embarrassment in her cold voice while the young girl peered up at her.

"Yes Azula-sama." The blonde-haired girl asked in a sweet voice while she chewed on her licorice.

"Do not ever call me that again. Especially…not in front of my army." Azula commanded with a twinge of pink on her cheeks while she glared at her still laughing subordinates.

"Yes princess! As you command!" Elle quipped with her words earning her a pleased stare from Azula before the regal woman bit into her snack.

Her three subordinates stared at her curiously while she chewed on it with a prideful scowl on her lips.

Just before swallowing it with an audible gulp while her golden eyes shimmered in annoyance when she sensed two pairs of eyes staring at her pointedly.

And a third paid of eyes gazing up at her with a hopeful glimmer that she strangely didn't desire to shatter.

"It's…good servant." The princess spoke at long last with a stoic countenance while she gazed down into the much smaller girl's overjoyed amber eyes.

All but Elle knew that Azula was telling a lie.

But it didn't matter.

All that mattered was that the princess cared so much about the girl that she was willing to pretend to like a food to keep the girl smiling!

That in itself was just nothing short of astonishing!

And they knew well enough that this softened side of Azula was for Elle alone.

"I-I am so happy that you like it master! Have another!" The blonde-haired girl squealed while the princess wrinkled her nose before grasping at the second offering sighing heavy all the while.

"You are a good girl Elle. You please me greatly." Azula admitted with another sigh while she bit into the bland candy just before patting her innocent handmaid on the head.

"Aww…" The brown-haired woman gushed while she smiled at the adorable sight that was the princess patting the beaming girl beneath her palm.

"Azula-sama…" Elle trailed off with pure hearted laughter lacing her voice while Azula's callous gaze peered down at her in recognition of her loyalty.

"So, tell me Elle. Is this something commonly ate by your people?" Mai asked in a curious voice while she gazed at her young friend's bright countenance.

"I guess so! It's just one of hundreds of candies that were mass produced for sale. Mass produced treats have always made manufactures a good deal of money not because the food is high quality but because they are available most places. We call it junk food! It has no nutrients whatsoever and absolutely no health benefits!" The blonde-haired girl announced with cheer to her sweatdropping friends.

"Why does that not surprise me." The princess scoffed with a roll of her eyes before swallowing the rest of the candy to quiet her growling belly.

This wouldn't keep her hunger quelled for even an hour.

They will have to hunt to get an adequate meal.

And she couldn't help but wonder about how she would handle her little girlfriend's absurd diet.

The mere thought of her most loyal follower starving while they awaited rescue was an oddly unpleasant one.

"One of the reasons why I would buy these is because they are safe to eat! There are no animal products in it!" Elle explained with a joyful nod while the three listened in slight puzzlement.

All the while realizing just how much thought the young girl put more thought into her vegetarian diet than they had first thought.

"Safe to eat?" Azula snorted in a pompous voice before furrowing her brows while her handmaid held up the package before her eyes.

"You see Azula-sama! They like to sneak gross ingredients in foods that they hope people won't notice. I have to read the labels very carefully to make sure that there isn't gelatin in it." The blonde-haired girl stated with a radiant expression while the monarch began to rub the bridge of her nose in rising aggravation.

The three women exchanged a glance as they began to realize that it would be next to impossible to convince the girl to eat anything they hunted for dinner.

"Gelatin Elle?" Ty Lee queried in a kinder voice than Azula while Elle's face took on a rare expression of disgust.

"It's a boiled product made out of skins, tendons, ligaments and crushed bones that holds many foods together. It's gross and I won't eat it. I only eat gelatin free candy! Like pralines!" Elle exclaimed while Azula's golden eyes continued to twitch in frustration.

"It's good to know that you focus on the important things servant." The princess remarked flatly while her chipper handmaid beamed up at her.

"Thank you Azula-sama! Would you like a third one?" The blonde-haired girl pondered in a doting voice that the only female just adored.

"Of course. I like them so much that I just can't contain my excitement." Azula answered with her sarcasm soaring over her betrothed's little head.

The young girl held up her hand while she passed another to the sighing monarch before passing out more to her more polite big sister's.

"Azula-sama?" Elle began in a childish voice in search of the powerful woman's guidance.

"What now Elle?" The princess answered after biting into the infernal stick while her childhood friends smirked at her expense.

"I forgot to ask. Has there been any gelatin in the palace foods that I've been eating?" The blonde-haired girl questioned in an adorably concerned voice while her big sister's sweatdropped when the monarch's golden eyes widened in ever soaring aggravation.

"No peasant! There haven't been any crushed bones in the food that I've been feeding you!" Azula snapped in a foul tempered voice with a puff of fire escaping her nostrils while Elle smiled up at her.

"I knew I could count on you to take care of me Azula-sama! T-thank you." Elle cried out before embracing Azula's belly in another hug while her girlfriend grunted above her.

Ty Lee and even Mai managed to quirk a smile over the young girl's innocent personality that somehow got to Azula of all people.

A girl so sweet and gentle that she didn't even protest when Azula called her a whole host of demeaning names.

"Hm. It's clear that this one flourishes under my rule." The princess stated with her lips curving into a pleased smirk while she stared down at her worshipful handmaid already pushing her face into her belly.

"She does Azula. She certainly does." The brown-haired woman said with a finger wiping at her eye while she smiled warmly at the sight of the lovable girl cuddling into her leader's lap.

"Pet, I said sit. Not snuggle." Azula commented in a beyond dominant voice while Elle peeked up at her with a pout on her grudgingly adorable face.

"Although I really wish you would stop calling her that…" Ty Lee trailed off in a sigh while Azula reclined like a true queen with her young friend hanging onto her side.

"B-but Azula-sama…" The blonde-haired girl whined only to gulp under her master's terribly imposing glare.

A glare so fierce that she couldn't help but back away like a saddened puppy with her tail tucked between her legs.

Only to blush in surprise when a strong hand grasped her head and shoved her face back into a plated stomach.

"Such a clingy little thing you." The princess sighed with a shake of her head while the smaller girl relaxed under her petting hand.

Just before she reached into the bag once more while her belly continued to rumble loudly with her young girlfriend's face propped up upon it.

"Well! At least we got some food in our belly." The brown-haired woman spoke with a nod while her gloomy friend also nodded in agreement.

"I-I have more candy if anyone's interested!" Elle chirped with a smile while Azula's palm continued to caress her hair while she reached for backpack once more.

"Joy." Azula snorted once more yet her golden eyes never ceased peering down at her young friends ever bright smile.

And then to the curiosity of the three highborn women they watched their young friend hold up another colorful bag for all to see.

"This is one of my favorites! It's called sour patch kids!" The blonde-haired girl announced in a cheery voice while her companions gazed at the bag in puzzlement.

"Sour patch kids?" The markswoman asked with amusement in her voice while she observed her leader scrunch up her nose in increased distaste.

"Yep! It's sour candy!" Elle cried out in a jubilant voice while her princess slapped a hand over her forehead.

"Sour candy…" The princess grumbled with annoyance flickering in her golden eyes while she listened to her handmaid tear open the bag.

They really needed to find something better to eat!

"Mhm! It's sour and then sweet!" The blonde-haired girl informed in a helpful voice while her three highborn friends sweatdropped once more.

"Yes, Elle I know. I read the label." Azula answered with a finger massaging the bridge of her nose.

Over the prior two weeks during their hunt for the Avatar she had deciphered much of the girl's foreign written language.

And now she was able to read and write with exception of some mild inconsistencies here and there.

But almost wasn't good enough.

'Soon I will master it.' The princess thought with her lips pursed into a cold scowl while her eyes burned with the flames of war.

Only to find herself torn from her thoughts when the young girl thrust the bag of candy before her cringing face.

"Well! It sounds good Azula!" Ty Lee stated with her cheer hiding her uncertainty while Azula glared at her through the corner of her eye.

"Help yourself princess!" Elle cheered before popping one into her mouth with a cheerful smile while her girlfriend eyed the bag warily.

"Yeah Azula. Be a sour patch kid." Mai encouraged with an amused smirk while Azula's face contorted into a furious glower.

"Shut up Mai. Just shut up or I will destroy your entire house." Azula hissed before hesitantly grasping at several of the sugary treats with her golden eyes almost grimacing at the bizarre food.

'If father saw me like this, I would never live it down!' The princess thought before dropping a candy in her mouth only to find herself struggling to force down the disgust while she ate the unpleasantly sour food.

"Here oneesans. Five four each of you!" The blonde-haired girl called out with a nod before dropping five into each of her big sister's open palms.

"Thank you, Elle." The markswoman offered while also hiding her reservations before chewing on one of the candies.

Only for her tawny eyes to widen while the acrobat watched her eat it with a never wavering smile.

"Thank you, so much little sister!" The brown-haired woman spoke before doing the same only to find her cheeks cringing over the strong flavor.

"And you get ten Azula-sama! Because you're the princess and the head of the family. So, you get a bigger serving." Elle announced with a respectful nod while the princess's golden eyes glared ahead in humiliation.

"You get ten Azula." Mai teased after swallowing the candy while she inwardly suppressed her shudder over the unpleasant food.

"I…am honored. I truly am. But I can't help but feel…remorseful eating more than you." Azula began with a stoic face while her childhood friends observed her in amusement.

The mere concept of Azula feeling guilt over taking more than she needed was a laughable one to Mai.

"Oh no! Don't worry about it. It's more important that you eat because you fought a long battle! You can even have my last two if you want." The blonde-haired girl answered with a gentle hearted smile while Azula's eyes grimaced outside of her line of vision.

"No. You need to eat as well. The last thing I need is you collapsing on me. Have three…no four more." The princess remarked before dropping several back into the girl's palm while she blinked up at her.

"But you need it more than me!" Elle insisted while her big sister's watched in amusement.

"Oh no. I insist you eat it. Your body is far too feeble. You need as much nourishment as you can get." Azula ordered in a flat tone while the handmaid finally nodded in agreement before chewing on the remaining candies.

"If you say so Azula-sama!" The blonde-haired girl agreed with a happy countenance before happily eating the food.

The three women gazed at their young friend oddly in complete bafflement that she enjoyed such a sour tasting food.

"And I want all of you to know that even if we starve, I won't eat you." Elle confessed with a broad grin while Team Azula sweatdropped over the strange statement.

"That's really sweet of you Elle. We won't eat you either!" The brown-haired woman assured while the markswoman stared at their young friend in bewilderment.

"That's reassuring to know. Sadly, I can't say the same. We may have to eat you if food becomes scarce." The princess commented with a sadistic smirk while she watched Elle's expression take on a comically horrified one.

"R-really?" The blonde-haired girl squeaked in an uncertain voice while the monarch smiled devilishly.

"Really." Azula purred only for the acrobat to sigh loudly.

"Azula's just teasing you Elle. She won't eat you." Ty Lee sighed only to smile humorously when the innocent girl seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

"That's good to know! I wouldn't want Azula-sama to go Elizabeth Báthory on me!" Elle chimed while Azula and the others furrowed their brows in curiosity.

"Who is Elizabeth Báthory?" Mai queried in a mildly interested voice.

All the while musing that it was likely someone cruel if she was being compared to Azula.

"I read about her in a history book in my library. She was a Hungarian noblewoman. Kind of like you and Ty Lee! But she is infamous for having murdered as many as six hundred and fifty peasants throughout her reign about four centuries ago. Mostly young girls." The blonde-haired girl responded with a nod while all but the princess stared back in horror.

And the two noblewomen couldn't help but feel even further horrified that when the girl said that she was 'like' them in status.

"T-that's horrible." The brown-haired woman mumbled while the monarch listened in increased inquisitiveness.

"You've piqued my curiosity. Tell me more about this woman." The princess ordered with a composed face while she glared at her two subordinates chiding faces.

'Oh please! They act like I am going to start burning peasants at the stake!' Azula thought with a sliver of offense in her cold eyes.

"Well, she supposedly beat the girl's, tortured them, mutilated them, cut off their hands, froze them to death, burned them and all other sorts of nasty stuff." Elle spoke with a shudder while her big sisters sat wide eyed in shock.

Azula seemed like an angel in comparison to this woman!

"Disgusting." The markswoman snarled with clear revulsion in her eyes.

And for once even Azula seemed somewhat taken aback.

"Hm. How unfortunate for the poor peasants that lived under her." The princess stated after regaining her composure while she sat with a hand on her knee.

And even though she wouldn't say it aloud.

She was mildly bothered that her handmaid would even jokingly think that she would ever do that to her.

"W-what's the point in such cruelty?" Ty Lee pondered in a disturbed voice while she too shivered in disgust.

"If the stories are true, they say that she was a sadist and that she enjoyed it. The stories vary though. Some sources even say that she bit the flesh off their faces and that she indulged in cannibalism. The most common tale is that she bathed in their blood to maintain her youth!" The blonde-haired girl declared with another nod while the three women listened in a speechless silence.

It was clear that even Azula thought the woman had been outright mad.

When Azula thinks someone insane that speaks volumes about their actions!

"Eating peasants. How revolting." Azula snorted with a seemingly uncaring voice while she turned to scowl at her horrified subordinates.

"I can only hope she died painfully." Mai muttered in disgust while Ty Lee nodded in agreement.

"Well! There's a historical theory that she was innocent and that she was framed by other powerful people who wanted her land. They locked her in her tower and she died inside it after four years of imprisonment." Elle concluded with her head still pressing against Azula's side while the royal woman held a thoughtful finger to her chin.

"Yes, I do suppose that would destroy one's reputation beyond repair." The princess commented while her subordinates relaxed slightly under the mention that the noblewoman may have been innocent.

"Still. That's…a really unnerving story. You do know that we would never hurt you like that…right?" The brown-haired woman asked in a worried voice only for her leader to roll her golden eyes.

"Of course, I do oneesan. I was just sharing a bit of history." The blonde-haired girl quipped with everlasting cheer while they stared at her oddly.

"Please Ty Lee! I think the tiger monkey knows well enough that we aren't going to chop her up and bath in her blood!" Azula scoffed with a dismissive wave of her hand while the acrobat nodded after sinking back into her seat.

"Yeah…I know Azula. I just don't want Elle thinking that we'd ever hurt her. That's all!" Ty Lee answered in a sisterly voice while she smiled once more at the younger girl leaning against Azula's belly.

"Still she has given me a good idea…" The princess trailed off with her red lips curving into a smile while the two-noblewoman stared at her in disbelief.

"I have?" Elle pondered with a blink of her eyes while Azula nodded above her.

"If I start spreading word that Earth Kingdom nobility tortures and devours their peasants then they will practically beg for Fire Nation governance!" Azula exclaimed with a proud smirk while her two subordinates tried not to groan.

"Do you seriously think anyone will believe that Azula? It's incredibly over the top. No one will buy it." The markswoman snorted with a roll of her eyes.

"You may be right. Perhaps if I removed the cannibalism from the story it will make it more believable?" The princess replied with a refined smile on her regal lips while she absentmindedly caressed Elle's golden head.

"Even then it's still obvious propaganda." Mai answered in a deadpan voice.

"Peasant." Azula spoke with a hand beneath her chin while the blonde smiled up at her.

"Yes Azula-sama?" The blonde-haired girl responded in a doting voice that earned her a smile of approval from the powerful woman.

"Tell me about another historical figure from your homeland. It doesn't matter who. Whoever comes to mind." The princess ordered with a nod while she allowed her girlfriend to lean into her armored belly.

"Something less gruesome perhaps?" The brown-haired woman requested only for her leader to roll her eyes at her once more.

"Oh…okay so someone other than Vlad the Impaler…" Elle trailed off with her words causing all but Azula to shudder while the monarch smiled in increased interest.

"Disregard Ty Lee. I want to hear about this Impaler." Azula commanded with a snap of her fingers while her childhood friends sighed in defeat.

"His reputation is just as infamous as Báthory. He refused to pay tribute to the Ottoman Empire. They once asked him for payment…he impaled them instead and the Ottomans moved to punish him! He won his fame in the history books when he defeated an army of twenty thousand Ottomans and impaled every last one of them on the banks of the river." The blonde-haired girl announced with her three highborn friends listening in fascination.

They were all surprised by the eclectic history of their young friend's homeland.

And the two noblewomen couldn't help but shiver over the look of enthrallment in Azula's golden eyes.

"Interesting. Perhaps…I shall do that to the rebels?" The princess hummed with a cold smile while her subordinates excluding her handmaid shuddered in pity for the poor fools.

"Please don't give Azula too many ideas little sister." Ty Lee begged with a nervous countenance while her friend continued to rub her chin in a scarily thoughtful fashion.

"They even say that when the second wave of invaders arrived that they fled as soon as they saw the forest of their twenty thousand deceased comrades." Elle continued with an animated countenance while Azula listened closely.

"I can't say I blame them." The markswoman sighed in her usual monotone voice.

"But he is most famous for inspiring the classic horror novel. Dracula!" The blonde-haired girl revealed with her little arms folded over her chest while the three gazed at her curiously.

"Dracula?" The brown-haired woman asked in an uncertain voice.

"Do you have legends of vampires here Azula-sama?" Elle queried with a finger under her lip while Azula furrowed her brows down at her.

"Vampires?" Azula repeated in a puzzled voice while the girl nodded.

"Inhuman monsters that are rumored to drink the blood of humans to stay immortal." The blonde-haired girl clarified with her words provoking recognition in her caretaker's eyes.

"We have legends of something like that. But we don't call them vampires. What does this have to do with this Impaler?" The princess pondered with a hand in the girl's hair and the other on her kneepad.

"You see Azula-sama. He was known for dipping his bread into his impaled enemies and eating it afterward!" Elle cried out while the three gazed at her in a taken aback manner once more.

"Charming." Mai commented dryly while she eyed her adopted sister oddly.

What a strange girl indeed.

"Vlad the Impaler was a large part of the inspiration in Dracula. It is one of the most famous horror novels of my world. It tells a story about a vampire named Count Dracula!" The blonde-haired girl informed in a spirited voice while they blinked at her in understanding.

"I see. I understand now. I presume you've read this…Dracula?" Azula questioned with a tilt of her head while the smaller girl nodded up at her.

"It was in the family library. Along with the history books." Elle answered without delay while Azula eyed her closely.

It was yet another reminder to all three of them that the girl's brother kept their innocent friend locked in a house for several years.

"Tell me more…. of your history." The princess ordered once more with her palm still kneading her adorable pet's plush head.

"Perhaps something a little pinker?" Ty Lee asked once more while she smiled at Elle so lovably holding onto Azula's armored belly.

"Spartacus!" The blonde-haired girl exclaimed with an enthusiasm that the three found entertaining.

"Spartacus?" Azula purred with an amused smile on her red lips while her servant peered up at her with that innocent look that she just adored.

"He was a former slave of the Roman Empire, one of the longest lasting empires in the history of my world. It lasted…for over two thousand years. It was a monarchy for about…oh five hundred years. And then a republic for another five hundred…and then finally an empire for well over a thousand years." Elle declared with an enthralled countenance while Azula's eyes lit up in greater fascination than the others.

"The Roman Empire…" The princess trailed off with great curiosity in her eyes while her subordinates also listened in fascination.

Now this sounded like an intriguing tale.

Bloodshed for the sake of bloodshed was all well and good for a brief moment of entertainment.

But this…was of much deeper interest to her.

"The Romans kept many slaves…they say for every freedman there were ten slaves. They used to make their slaves fight to the death for entertainment. And then one day…a slave named Spartacus started a small rebellion that would grow to become the Third Servile War." The blonde-haired girl spoke with eagerness while craning her neck to stare up at her princess's intrigued face.

"A slave war? How terrifying." Azula snorted with a sophisticated smirk while she continued to pet her girlfriend's soft hair.

The two noblewomen sat in a nervous silence well aware that the Fire Nation had both Earth Kingdom and watertribe slaves.

Something that Azula has purposefully avoided telling Elle.

Likely out of fear that she would lose the girl's favor.

Not that Azula would ever so as such out loud.

"But Azula-sama! It was the largest slave rebellion in the history of my world. The slaves created an army and they marched on Rome!" Elle whined much like a child attempting to educate her parent while Azula glanced down at her with her eyebrows raised in grudging fascination.

"Was it now?" The princess purred in a chuckle with her well manicured fingernails dancing in her blushing love's hair.

"Mhm! At their peak they were about seventy thousand strong. They managed to defeat several Roman legions. Spartacus was one of the few people to have made Rome feel fear." The blonde-haired girl insisted with an adorable gaze while she began to melt under her master's hand.

"Seventy thousand? That's a lot of slaves." The markswoman muttered with awe in her eyes while she listened intently.

"You've managed to catch my interests with this one. Tell me girl…did Spartacus win this war? I thought not. Slaves rarely win anything." Azula remarked in an uncaring voice only to find herself puzzled by her girlfriend adamantly shook her head.

"W-well he lost the war. Because of Crassus. One of richest men in history. Crassus defeated the slave army and crucified the last six thousand survivors on the Appian Way. But even though he lost! Spartacus went down in history as a hero…and look to his tale for inspiration." Elle responded with admiration in her voice while Azula scoffed above her.

"Crucified them all…" Ty Lee mumbled while gazing at Azula in discomfort that she found amusement in such a tale.

"Inspiration for what? He lost!" The princess protested with another snort while she resumed petting her lovely handmaid's golden head.

"Courage! I think he was a great man and I wish he would have won. Slavery is wrong. And even though the Romans have accomplished many great things. They had no right to deprive their fellow humans of freedom. It's just not right. Everyone should have the choice to do as they please. As long as it doesn't hurt anyone else." The blonde-haired girl concluded her tale with her lips pursed into a frown.

The two noblewomen turned to cast the now baffled princess another pointed glance that prompted her to scowl deeply once more.

Only to peer back down at her betrothed with her beautiful lips pursing into a frown.

"You are such a naïve little thing. But I like you all the same peasant." Azula admitted with a sliver of fondness in her callous eyes while she held the girl's face into her belly once more.

"I…love you Azula-sama…" Elle murmured once more with her hands holding onto her much taller girlfriend's belly while her head was tenderly petted by a strong hand.

'I wonder how long it will take Azula to say those same words back to you…' Mai thought with a bothered look in her eyes while she noted how Azula smiled down at Elle as if she was more a treasured kitten than girlfriend.

"Mhm. That's my little peasant." The princess purred with her fist restraining her little handmaid against her belly.

That was one thing that bothered Mai.

No matter how much she and Ty Lee tried to assure Elle that there was no division in status between them.

Azula would reinforce that Elle was a peasant every time.

And just as unnerving was the way that the girl would hang onto Azula as if she were her last lifeline.

It was all the more a reminder that Elle has been abused so terribly that the sweet girl has been damaged so deeply that she seeks reassurance in Azula of all people!

"M-my princess right." The blonde-haired girl mewled with her fists gripping the royal woman's plated belly while she listened it rumble once more.

But it did not bother her any.

"My lovely peasant…" Azula trailed off with a pleased smile on her controlling lips while her handmaid clung to her stomach like a lost child.

She sighed under her breath with her fingers trailing through plush blonde locks while the girl continued to make the most precious whines that she just adored.

What a good girl indeed.

This one will stay by her side forevermore.

[sammysdewysensitiveeyes]

Part 3 of my meandering “Maximus and Fabian team-up to kidnap Luna” fanfic, based on the brilliant ideas of @thecorteztwins.  I’m afraid I didn’t manage to get them naked in front of a crowd, but they do have another kind of clothing mishap.

Apologies for Fabian’s vague homophobia, and for the ableist insults that some of the characters throw at Max. 

There were two things wrong in this situation as far as Fabian could tell.  

           One – Fabian and Maximus were in a department store with Luna, the child they had kidnapped, just twenty minutes after said kidnapping.  Maximus was making no attempt to blend in, and their change from coveralls into casual clothing presented a flimsy disguise at best.

           Two – Fabian and Maximus were in a department store with Luna, spending Fabian’s money.

           Luna, whom Fabian had previously known as such a sweet, quiet, well-behaved child, had pouted and whined and threatened tears if she were not plied with gifts.  Obviously her time among the royals of Attilan had entirely spoiled her, despite their extremely neglectful parenting styles.  So now they were spending valuable time that they really did not have, waiting for an eleven year-old girl to decide between T-shirts emblazoned with different pastel ponies.  And because Prince Maximus of Attilan was used to having all the finer things in life but never having to pay for them, it fell to Fabian to fund their little shopping trip.  Of course. Fabian’s family was descended from royalty as well, but he didn’t walk around with impractically empty pockets.  

           It wasn’t that Fabian didn’t have the money. He had moved his family’s considerable wealth into various untouchable accounts in the Cayman Islands and Switzerland, so that the police would not seize his assets over his little hobbies. He was doing it for his sister as well – Anne-Marie was too enraptured by the Acolytes’ cause to think about money, so Fabian, as the responsible and loving brother, had accounts set aside to take care of her.  (Well, one account.  A sizable amount.  It was all she needed, really, he’d manage the rest.)

           “This is not going to work,” Fabian hissed as Maximus took his arm and pulled him in disgustingly close.  He was not at all happy having the Inhuman who specialized in mind control, and who somehow always smelled like engine grease getting so touchy-feely.  He knew Max’s powers could also work from a distance, but still.  “We should just say that I’m her father, and you’re her uncle.”

           “I am her uncle, what’s the fun in that?  C’mon Cortez, role-play.  Get into the spirit of things.”

           “They’ll never believe,” Fabian insisted.  “I don’t look gay!”

           “I wasn’t aware that there was a specific look.” Maximus looked genuinely curious, not sarcastic, although it was often hard to tell.  “They don’t look any different in Attilan.  Are there physiological differences or is it just choices of fashion?”

           “It’s….it’s complicated,” Fabian said.  It wasn’t that Fabian had anything against gay men in particular.  He wasn’t like the petty-minded fools that bristled at the thought of another man finding them attractive.  It was only right and proper that gay men find Fabian attractive, just like everyone else did.  Fabian was attractive.  There was something tragically romantic at the thought of all the men who must surely pine after Fabian, their desires forever unfulfilled. He wouldn’t hold it against them. But he couldn’t quite imagine himself in that role.  The thought of certain acts made him uncomfortable.  

           “It’s not so complicated in Attilan.  You just ask.  Until the Council assigns you a spouse, it doesn’t matter.  And it usually doesn’t matter so much afterwards, either, as long as you are discreet.”  Maximus had been the one who thought it would be ever so amusing to pose as Luna’s same-sex parents, because apparently there was no such thing in Attilan. Same-sex relationships were accepted, but procreation and child-rearing was decided entirely at the whim of a council that determined genetic compatibility.  It sounded barbaric to Fabian, who would surely be mobbed by women seeking his superior genetic material.  No amount of polite refusal would do, they would fight for his favor – he would be exhausted and utterly milked dry after even a single day in Attilan.

           A jerk on his ponytail pulled Fabian out of that extremely pleasant reverie.    

           “Do try to keep your wits about you, Cortez, we are still in the middle of a caper, here.  Though I suppose the vapid expression does make you look appropriately non-threatening.”

           Fabian gritted his teeth, but said nothing. Some people were so utterly crass and entitled, especially unstable Inhuman princes.  It would be worth it in the end, when their plan granted Fabian the power he deserved, and then he’d find a tall building to push Maximus off of. He’d let Luna live, he wasn’t a monster, after all.    

Meanwhile, Luna had abandoned the pastel pony shirts, and was pawing through T-shirts featuring a group of handsome Asian teens, with BTS floating above their heads.  Fabian had no idea what “BTS” was, but based on the group’s bland prettiness, he guessed it must be some insipid boy band.  They were allowing Luna to browse without keeping a grip on her – Maximus had suggested that some Very Bad things would happen to the sales clerk if she tried to run or even wandered out of their sight.  Said clerk breezed right up to them, cheerfully unaware that Maximus would mentally force her to bite her own tongue in half if Luna called for help.

           “Can I help you gentlemen find anything?”

           “Your assistance is greatly appreciated, dear lady,” Fabian drawled.  She was fairly attractive, for an older woman.  He resisted the urge to place an arm around her shoulders, but one hand strayed up to undo the top button on his shirt.  

           “We are just buying some clothing for our beloved daughter,”  said Maximus, putting an arm around Fabian’s own shoulders and squeezing up against him.  Fabian hoped his disgust did not show on his face.

           “Technically she’s my daughter,” Fabian blurted out. “Biologically, I mean.  I had her.  With a woman.  I’ve been with a woman before.”

           “I see,” said the saleswoman, lips pursed as if trying not to smile.

           “Yes, my partner supplied the genetic material for the surrogate to create our precious little seraph,” Maximus said, gesturing at Luna, who was still ravaging the BTS merchandise.  “We’re so happy to have her in our lives.”

           “Aww, that’ sweet,” the saleswoman cooed, possibly genuinely enchanted by them.  Also possibly turning on the charm because she worked on commission, and men rich enough to afford a surrogate were likely to drop a lot of money in the store.  

           “I’m the top,” Fabian announced suddenly, answering a question no one was asking.

           “Oh…okay.”

“I’m always the top.  And he absolutely loves the things I do to him, because I am extremely good at sex.  With my penis. Not any other way.”  The saleswoman just laughed nervously.

           “Well, naturally.”  Maximus folded his arms.  “I wouldn’t take an inferior lover.  Of course you always satisfy me in every way and do everything I ask.”

           “That’s right,” Fabian said, with just a hint of uncertainty.  He had a weird feeling that he was somehow losing this conversation.

           “Well, that’s…um….I’m glad you’re so happy together,” said the saleswoman as Luna came running up with an armful of shirts. “But maybe we should pause this conversation.  Little pitchers have big ears, you know.”

           “What does that have to do with anythi –“  

           Maximus’s question was cut off when the far wall of the store suddenly blew apart.  The saleswoman shrieked and wrapped her arms around Luna protectively as they were showered with debris.  Blinking through the dust in the air, Fabian could see the Wrecking Crew emerge through the hole in the wall.  Which would mean….oh, this wasn’t good at all.

           “See, I told you I saw them go in here,” said Piledriver, gesturing at Fabian and Maximus.

           “What are you doing here?” Maximus demanded. “You’re meant to be smashing up Times Square, and keeping the Avengers’ attention for at least another –“ Maximus checked his watch.  “12 minutes and 38 seconds.”  

           “The check bounced, Prince Deadbeat,” said Wrecker. “Pay up, or we’ll take it out of your hides.”  

           “Yeah, or you’re gonna be Prince Deadmeat,” added Bulldozer.  Thunderball groaned and shook his head, rolling his eyes.

Maximus whipped his head around to glare at Fabian.  Fabian tried to glare back, but wound up giving a half-hearted shrug.  Perhaps falsifying the account number had been an extremely minor, insignificant mistake on his part, but how was he to know that the Crew would be checking their bank accounts before the job was even finished?  

           “Can’t you even complete the simplest of tasks, Cortez?”  Maximus snarled.  

           “What, you expect me to waste my fortune on morons like that?” Fabian shot back.  “We would have been away already if you hadn’t wasted valuable time indulging the girl!”  Yes, that was right.  It was all Maximus’s fault.  

           “It was only a small amount of your supposedly enormous fortune, you dullard, which I would have gladly reimbursed after I regained my rightful-“ Maximus was interrupted as Bulldozer charged towards them, head down.  Maximus ripped Luna out of the saleswoman’s arms and dove to the right, Fabian jumped to the left.  Carried by momentum, Bulldozer ran past them, jumping harmlessly over the saleswoman who had fallen to the floor.

           “Get out of here, lady,” he yelled as he swung back around, trying to decide whether to go for Maximus or Fabian.  “Our beef’s with them, not you.”  The saleswoman hesitated, looking at Luna, clearly wanting to pull her out of harm’s way.  Luna’s eyes flashed.

           “Run,” she commanded, and the clerk turned and fled.  

           “See, this is why I always say we should insist on direct transfer.  Checks are worthless, and frankly outdated.  Everything’s digital now,” Thunderball was saying, as he advanced towards.Fabian, swinging the wrecking ball that gave him his name.  

         “Or cash.  That’s even better,” said Piledriver, heading towards Maximus. “You can always depend on cash.” Fabian held up his hands in a placating gesture.  Much as he loathed the idea of groveling in front of these men, surely he could talk his way around these simpletons.  

           “Gentleman….I believe there’s been a misunderstanding. The bank must have made an error, which can be easily remedied –“  Fabian was cut off as the wrecking ball swung at his head.  As he ducked, he could see Bulldozer out of the corner of his eye, apparently deciding that Fabian was the better target.  Just his luck.  

           “We’re not stupid, Cortez.  You’re not going to scam us out of what’s rightfully ours.” Fabian tossed himself out of the way at just the right time, and this time the wrecking ball collided with Bulldozer’s head as he charged.

           “Ow! What the hell, Franklin?!”

           “Well, don’t run right into it!”  

           Fabian was a skilled fighter and master tactician. He had been in multiple battles alongside the Acolytes, often leading the charge himself.  He had never lacked for courage or skill.  And, as an experienced and highly intelligent fighter, Fabian knew the advantage of a strategic retreat.  As Thunderball and Bulldozer sorted themselves out, Fabian took the opportunity to sprint away and hide in a utility closet.  Let Maximus handle the brutes, then he’d take Luna and continue the mission (possibly in honor of the Inhuman prince’s memory, depending on how the fight went).

           As he ran, he saw that Maximus had used his powers to turn Piledriver against Wrecker, and the two were trading blows. So clearly Maximus could handle the situation, and there was nothing wrong with him withdrawing from the battle temporarily to rethink strategy.  The utility closet was cramped, pitch black and smelled of bleach, but they were less likely to find him here than one of the fitting rooms.  He just needed a moment to think.  His powers would not work on the Wrecking Crew – their strength and durability was based in Asgardian magic, not superior genetics like mutants (or, to a lesser extent, Inhumans).  The way these humans immediately squandered their gifts through petty crime just showed the natural superiority of mutants.  Humans couldn’t be trusted with powers.

           Obviously an alternative plan was necessary.  Perhaps a quick wire transfer would smooth over this little problem.  Or maybe Maximus would finally make himself useful and use his powers to subdue the whole group, which he frankly should have done in the first place.  It was also likely that the destruction at the mall would draw the Avengers, which would ruin their plans, but allow Fabian to slip away in the chaos.  He could hear the sounds of the fight continuing outside, with shouting and what sounded like heavy punches.  Off in the distance, glass shattered.  

           Then, suddenly the door to Fabian’s sanctuary was thrown open and Maximus ducked inside, rubbing his right hand and wincing with pain.  Alone, Fabian realized.

           “Where’s the girl?” He demanded.

           “The little brat bit me and ran off,” Maximus snapped.  “Too much like her mother, indeed!”

           “So you just left her out there with those thugs? She’s your niece, for God’s sake,” Fabian exclaimed, appalled at the Inhuman’s callousness and cowardice.

           “Luna is an intelligent, mature girl, and they are unlikely to hurt her.  I just needed a moment to think, and the crew is still fighting one of their own.   Thanks to me, and not you!  You abandoned us both!”

           “I was coming up with a plan!” Fabian hissed. He was no coward, his retreat into the utility closet was entirely different from what Maximus had done.

           “Well, what is your brilliant plan, then?  You’re the one who caused this problem in the first-“ A voice interrupted him, shouting through the store.

           “Heeeeeeeey, Ponytail and Prince Loon.  We’ve got the girl!  Come out and face us if you want her back alive.  Make some noise, girlie.”  There was a faint cry of pain, then Luna’s voice called out.

           “Uncle Max, help!  This isn’t fun anymore!”

           Maximus went rigid, and in the faint light, Fabian could see his face contorted with rage.  Fabian himself was outraged – he might use Luna as a pawn in his larger plans, but he wasn’t going to physically harm the girl.

           It was partially vanity that made them take a minute to throw on their respective suits.  Fighting in human casual-wear was so undignified.  It was also the fact that their costumes were made of a high-tech, extremely strong cloth that would not easily tear and partially protected them from injury.  Also, Fabian appreciated how his costume would show off every bit of his beautiful, sculpted body.  One should always look one’s best, no matter the situation.

           Crammed into the utility closet, they threw on their clothing in the dark, with muffled curses as feet were stepped on, and elbows jammed accidently (or not-so-accidentally) into sides.  After a few confusing moments of fabric and limbs going all sorts of strange places, they burst out to confront the Wrecking Crew again.  They did not expect the Wrecking Crew to laugh.

           Fabian glanced over at Maximus, who was trying to pull his long coat over Fabian’s own cape and shoulder pads.  The costume hung loose on the shorter, slighter Inhuman.  Which meant….Fabian reluctantly looked down (one of the very few times he was ever hesitant to look at his own body), and saw Maximus’s black and silver suit, stretched tight across his chest.  The shirt would not come down all the way, leaving a bare midriff that Fabian would normally enjoy showing off, if he wasn’t wearing the disgusting, unwashed suit of a greasy lunatic.  And he generally preferred baring his abs for the ladies, not ugly, brutish career criminals.

           Maximus glared over at him.  

           “Take those off, Cortez, you’re stretching them out!”

           “Oh, forgive me for actually having a body worthy of homo superior!  We can’t all be scrawny nerds that never exercise!”

           “Oh, do forgive me for spending my time in actual worthy pursuits instead of “bench-pressing” and “man-scaping” and “GTL” like on the Jersey Shore –“  Maximus gave an indignant squawk as Fabian ripped the cape off his shoulders and fastened it around his own.

           “Are you ladies done?  We’ve got business here!” yelled Wrecker.  He had Luna tucked under one arm, struggling and kicking at him with little effect.  “No need for things to get ugly.  You give us the money, we give you back the girl.”

           “Yeah, and can we wrap this up before the Avengers get here?  We dropped a cement truck on She-Hulk, but that’s barely gonna slow her down.  And she’s gonna be pissed,” said Bulldozer impatiently.  Fabian could sympathize – he couldn’t imagine trying to get cement out of his own luscious, flowing locks.

           “Fine, fine, no need for such base violence.  We’ll pay what we owe.  That’s what we intended in the first place,” Maximus said, with a meaningful glare at Fabian.

           “You’ll pay more than that,” said Wrecker.  “You tried to cheat us, so the price has gone up. We want triple the original amount.”

           “Let’s just get out of here,” said Thunderball. “We can take the girl to a safehouse and release her when they pay up.  We shouldn’t be hanging around the guy with mind control powers.” Piledriver, who had shaken off Maximus’s control when the Inhuman ran, nodded in agreement.

           “I’m still in charge here, Professor,” snapped Wrecker.  “We’re not getting any deeper into this than we have to.  We get the money now, give them the girl, and then disappear.  Let them deal with the rest of it.”

As they argued, Fabian was feeling along the outlines of the suit that was stretched too tight across his body.  Bits of metal were digging into him whenever he moved, odd lumps on the inside of the suit.  Prince Packrat must have all sorts of things stashed into hidden pockets – maybe one of them would be useful.  He pulled out a small round sphere, about the size of a ball bearing, that had been digging into his left armpit.  Maximus grinned when he saw it.

           “Flash bomb,” he whispered.  “Throw it and cover your eyes.”

           “Hey, what are you two smirking about?”  yelled Piledriver.  “We’ve got the girl, you’d better not –“

           Fabian tossed the sphere at their feet, and threw an arm across his eyes as the world suddenly got impossibly bright for an instant. He put the arm down, and saw that the Crew was momentarily blinded.  Beside him, Maximus’s eyes flashed blue, fists clenched as he used his power.

           “Toss her to me,” he commanded, and Wrecker suddenly hurled Luna across the room at them.  Fabian was the one who wound up catching her.  She appeared unharmed, but had both hands clasped across her eyes.

           “Uncle Max, I can’t see!  I wanna go home!” she wailed.

           “Be brave, child, the affects will fade soon. You’ll be fine,” Maximus insisted, still concentrating.  Bulldozer started to stumble forward towards the sounds of their voices, but was slowed by Wrecker’s crowbar.  Maximus had the man completely in thrall, and he began to swing indiscriminately, battering the other disoriented Crew members.

           “Can I trust you to carry her, Cortez, or will you be screwing that up as well?”  

           “None of this would have happened if not for this side trip!  We should have stuck to the plan!”  Fabian wondered what other delightful gadgets Maximus had in this ridiculous suit of his. He’d palm a few when they exchanged clothing again.  There were so many ways for him to kill the Inhuman after he’d outlived his usefulness, and that thought was the only thing that kept Fabian going through this farce of a team-up.

           “We’ll finish the plan!”  Maximus insisted.  “This is just a minor set-back.  But first…” The two of them looked at the Wrecking Crew, still blinking and trying to fight off their leader, then looked at each.

           “Strategic retreat?”

           “Indeed.”

           With Luna in his arms, Fabian followed Maximus as they ran for the exit.

[kuro-gossips]

Splashes of Colour

Chapter 1: Shades of Blue

All Newt has known is shades of grey.

When he looks in the mirror, his skin is light grey, eyes grey, curly hair grey. It is so monotonous and boring, but he knows he is not alone in this world who suffers from the same symptom.

It is so rare that a person meets their intended soulmate; too many humans on Earth and the probability of  bumping into the one is infinitely small. But he hears whispers, gossip, old wives’ tales of the unusual ones that have and the stories tell of life suddenly having meaning and colour (such a foreign word on his tongue). As a child, the young wizard blushed at the thought of coming across such a wondrous opportunity, but as he ages, he realizes that such childlike fancies are merely that. He lets go of the hope that one day he would meet his soulmate.

Of course, when one least expects it, these things have a tendency to hit oneself in the face with the speed and ferocity of a charging Hippogriff. Years later when he is 29 years old, he is standing hunched over in an attempt to shrink underneath the gazes of many important wizarding figures. Picquery commands his case full of creatures to be impounded and immediately, it gets summoned into Graves’ awaiting hands without a single word escaping his lips.

“Wait, no,” Newt begins and starts to reach for his wand in the inner pocket of his coat, “Give that back--”

“Arrest them.” Picquery declares. Graves sees the magizoologist’s hand reaching for something and his free hand is immediately there to prevent any further action on the British’s part with powerful wandless magic as he forces Newt back in the air and then onto his knees on the cold tiles in the depths of MACUSA’s headquarters, arms clasped behind him in some sort of binding spell to prevent him from resisting arrest.

“Don’t hurt those creatures. Please, you don’t understand.” Newt rambles, pleading, “Nothing in there is dangerous. Nothing.”

“We’ll be the judges of that. Take them to the cells.” Picquery’s tone carries such utter finality in it that the British magizoologist’s heart clenches in fear.

“Don’t hurt those creatures! There’s nothing-- nothing in there is dangerous!” Newt’s voice becomes increasingly frantic as he goes on, dragged further and further away from his beloved creatures, “Please don’t hurt my creatures! They aren’t dangerous! Please, they’re not dangerous!”

***

Hours pass and now Newt is seated in a drab room, scarce of any decorations. The chair he occupies is relentlessly cold, which he feels biting through his wool clothes. Tina is still chained behind him with two female Aurors standing guard. Her eyebrows are drawn up in fear and worry. The freckled man flexes his wrists after the chains come loose. Across the metal table, Graves stares at him and Newt refuses to make any sort of eye contact with the Director.

“You’re an interesting man, Mr. Scamander.” Graves utters, but before he can continue, Tina interrupts him.

“Mr. Graves…”

Percival shushes her with a finger to his lip and shakes his head in disappointment. Properly chastised, she retreats to her former position.

Graves sighs, exasperation from Tina’s actions plain as day in his voice, and examines the papers detailing Newt’s past, “You were thrown out of Hogwarts for endangering human life--”

“That was an accident.”

“-- with a beast. Yet one of your teachers argued strongly against your expulsion. Now, what makes Albus Dumbledore so fond of you?” Newt detects a hint of aggravation contained within this question. He doesn’t comprehend why his answer would be relevant to the situation at hand.

He quietly responds, regardless, shaking his head, “I really couldn’t say.”

“So, setting a pack of dangerous creatures loose here was--” The dark-haired man pauses for a brief moment, gesturing wildly to rest of the room, “-- was just another accident, is that right?”

“Why would I do it deliberately?”

“To expose wizard kind. To provoke war between the magical and non-magical worlds.”

“Mass slaughter for ‘the greater good,’ you mean.”

“Yes. Quite.” Graves leans forward, trying to catch his gaze and eager to hear the response. His pale hands seize Newt’s recently freed ones. The sensation is surreal when their skin comes into contact, an electrical shock passes between them; he can feel his magical core humming in bliss, and the next time Newt blinks, his world of grey is suddenly no longer. He can’t help but stare at the dark-haired man in front of him and takes in the room he’s in. It’s almost like he’s still seeing ashen tones, but that can’t be, because his coat is definitely not. It’s blue, his mind supplies automatically.

After a moment, he is able to compose himself and states, “I’m not one of Grindelwald’s fanatics, Mr. Graves.”

A slow smirk spreads across the other’s face. The only indication that the other man is affected by their contact is the slight widening of his eyes, but they return to normal much quicker than Newt's. He's lucky that he's facing away from Tina because he has never been good at schooling his features or lying for that matter. His palm is still placed upon Newt’s, providing a firm pressure that seems to ground him in reality for the moment. “You see, somehow I doubt that, Mr. Scamander.”

In another feat of wandless magic, he calls forth the Obscurus contained within a bubble, black mist jerking and swirling aggressively at the edges of the charm.

“No, no, it isn’t-- it isn’t what you’re thinking of! I managed to separate it from the Sudanese girl months ago, but- but it was-- I just wanted to take it home and study it. It cannot survive outside of there, it cannot hurt anyone in this form, not without its host.” The curly redhead glances nervously at the American witch behind him, he does not want Tina to think ill of his intentions.

“Then it’s useless without the host.”

“‘Useless?’ That is a parasitical force of magic that killed a child, what on Earth could you use it for?” Wide green eyes are peering into dark brown depths of the man sitting across from him, attempting to dissect his words for an ulterior motive. Sable eyes shift nervously from side to side, for the first time, Graves is the one eluding eye contact.

There is a lull in the conversation.

“You fool nobody, Mr. Scamander. You brought this Obscurus into the city of New York in the hope of causing mass destruction, breaking the Statute of Secrecy, and revealing the magical world. You are guilty of treason to your fellow wizards and are, therefore, sentenced to death. Miss Goldstein has aided and abetted you.” At these words, Graves rises from his seat and directs the two witches to escort Tina and himself to the execution room.

“Wait, what--” Newt tries to reason, as the blonde witch approaches him and places a wand at the base of his neck, “No, she’s done nothing of the kind! She- she has nothing to do with this!”

“She is your accomplice, Mr. Scamander, and she shall receive the same punishment as you. Just do it immediately, I will inform President Picquery myself.” He dismisses the two Aurors with a wave of his hand and brings said hand to rub his temple. The tall woman sobs loudly, tears staining the apples of her cheeks. Graves shushes them, ostensibly smug. “Please.”

Newt should be horrified and disgusted at the corruption that runs through MACUSA’s hierarchy, but all that he can think about is the fact that his soulmate is the one doing the sentencing.

***

The newly crowned fugitives manage to escape with Queenie's help and Newt's expanded suitcase. The whole ordeal with finding Dougal, and subsequently with the Occamy, through Gnarlak’s intel is interesting to say the least, but at least now, MACUSA can’t possibly blame any of Newt’s creatures for wreaking havoc on the city.

After chasing the Obscurial around Manhattan, its identity is revealed to be the young Barebone boy that Tina had defended. The British man is still reeling from discovering his soulmate at such an inopportune time, but he has something more important eating away at his mind: finding and helping Credence. Newt tracks the Second Salemer to the subway tunnels, his misty form clinging to the ceiling.

“Credence?” The Scamander takes refuge behind a pillar, talking to the Obscurial over his shoulder. His voice is more even than it should be after constantly Apparating and sprinting. “It is ‘Credence,’ isn’t it? I’m here to help you, Credence. Listen, I’m not here to hurt you.”

The curly-haired wizard takes a chance and peeks out from cover; he sees that the Obscurial form is no longer twisting in agony and rage, but its movement is more of a smooth glide through the space, and that spurs him to approach. He continues repeating the other's name, believing it to be some sort of comforting mechanism.

“I’ve met someone, just like you, Credence. A girl, a young girl, who had been imprisoned, she’d been locked away and she’d been punished for her magic.” Credence’s body starts to reform from the fog, eyes red, and tear tracks evident on his face.

“Credence, can I come over there?” Newt looks hopeful as he tiptoes forward. He repeats the question again, “Can I come over there?”

Credence doesn’t reject him -- he doesn’t say anything -- but before he can get any closer, the white flash of a spell, which he barely manages to cast a shielding spell against, forces Newt back and he lands roughly on the subway tracks. When he looks up, he can see the black-haired teenager running in the opposite direction of Graves, who had just appeared from the darkness of the tunnel. The Director hurls a couple more explosive curses at the magizoologist, but he manages to evade them by rolling out of the way, before ducking behind another pillar. He throws a counter spell at Graves, which is easily deflected.

When Credence is backed into a corner with nowhere else to go, the older man sends impressive bolts of lightning at him, but Newt leaps in front of the boy to protect him. Graves -- indignant, hateful, and outraged -- flings flash after flash of electricity at the freckled wizard, which are weakly warded off and cast aside.

“I never thought that one day I would stumble upon my soulmate.” The black-haired American exclaims, anger apparent in his voice. He laughs ironically. Newt is silent in fear and concentration as he defends the two of them. The moment he looks back over his shoulder at the boy, Graves takes advantage and spells the railway tracks alive to propel him back, before assaulting him with charged shots. Newt writhes on the ground, energy searing painfully throughout his frame.

“Do you know why I sentenced you to death? I didn’t want to accept that my soulmate would be such a pathetic, nervous wreck like you are!” His voice echoes as it gains in volume, causing the younger to violently flinch. The attacks come relentlessly now and he can’t protect himself properly from the ground. “Do you know who I am?”

The green-eyed male doesn’t have the faintest idea. He doesn’t get a chance to respond because Credence’s emotions begin to take over, triggering his transformation into the Obscurial once more. The black cloud looms over top of Graves, who merely whispers his name, pushing for obedience and trust, but the boy knows no such thing and dives down. Both Newt and Graves manage to Apparate out of the way several times as the Obscurus does its best to kill the two of them. Just as the dark smoke poses in waiting over both of them, lying on the ground, Tina rushes in, her words as hurried as she is, “Credence, no! Don’t do this. Please.”

The furious swirling slows down to a stop.

“Keep talking, Tina, keep talking to him. He’ll listen to you. He’s listening.”

“I know what that woman did to you. I know that you’ve suffered. You need to stop this now. Newt and I will protect you. This man, he’s using you.” The eldest Goldstein sister tries to explain, her voice faintly fluctuating from the emotions she is barely repressing after coming face-to-face with Credence again.

“Don’t listen to her, Credence. I want you to be free. It’s alright.” Graves shoots her a nasty glare as he talks. The black fog ceases its churning, listening to reassuring words, but unsure of whom to believe.

“That’s it.” Tina coaxes and Credence has almost calmed down, until waves of Aurors run down the steps with MACUSA’s President at the forefront.

Tina whips around and pleads to them because she sees them with their wands drawn, “Shh! Don’t, you’ll frighten him.”

“Wands down! Anyone harms him, they answer to me!” It's the most agitated anyone has seen Graves, eyes wide and frantic, hair awry, and flecks of dirt decorating his elegant clothes.

None of the new arrivals listen to either of them and start shooting spell after spell at the Obscurus. Newt can hear the anguished screaming of the Second Salemer boy and he has to cover his ears, yelling at everyone to stop, but the onslaught shows no signs of stopping. Finally, the smoke dissipates and only faint tendrils are left suspended around the opening in the tunnel. Newt picks himself up from the ground, dust covering his peacock blue jacket, a somber and heartbroken look adorning his soft features.

“Credence…” Graves mutters as he climbs up onto the platform, staring wistfully at the remains of the terrified boy. “Fools, do you realize what you’ve done?”

“The Obscurial was killed on my orders, Mr. Graves.”

“Yes, and history will surely note that, Madam President. What was done here tonight was not right.”

“He was responsible for the death of a No-Maj. He risked the exposure of our community and he has broken one of our most sacred laws.” Picquery counters.

“A law that has us scuttling like rats in the gutter. A law that demands that we conceal our true nature, a law that directs those under its dominion to cower in fear, unless we risk discovery. I ask you, Madam President-- I ask all of you, who does this law protect? Us?” Graves points upwards, indicating he is talking about the non-magical people. “Or them? I refuse to bow down any longer.”

Madam Picquery requests an Auror under her command to relieve Graves of his wand, but then a short-lived battle ensues between the multitude of MACUSA’s wizards and the Director. A couple of Aurors fall, defeated by the powerful man and the President’s face shows her underlying horror at the behaviour of the man she had considered her friend. At this point, everyone knows that something is terribly wrong. Newt unleashes the Swooping Evil hiding up his sleeve and binds Graves, stopping him dead in his venture and driving him to his knees, positions reversed from a couple of hours ago.

“Accio!” Tina says, grabbing the sleek ebony wand out of the air. The pair slowly walk towards the restrained man, the redhead holding his wand out in front of him, a charm on the tip of his tongue.

“Revelio.”

Graves’ features melt away and in his place, is none other than Gellert Grindelwald. The British wizard’s face is crestfallen; his fate could not have turned out worse. He had thought Percival Graves to be an abhorrent man, sneaking around and manipulating Credence, and yet, the rising Dark Lord is infinitely more horrendous.

Grindelwald is his soulmate. Newt wants to break down, to cry, to scream his lungs out so that he can’t feel anything anymore, but he cannot do that here in front of this many people. He tries his best to contain his emotions, slightly trembling at the amount of effort it takes.

“Do you think you can hold me?” Grindelwald questions the American dark-skinned woman, a lilt of amusement colouring his tone.

“We’ll do our best, Mr. Grindelwald.”

Even as he is being guided out of vicinity, the pale coloured man stops in front of where Newt is standing, head cast downwards. Feeling the Dark wizard’s gaze on him, Newt hesitantly catches his eyes -- one dark and feels like he's drowning at the bottom of a lake, and the other a luminescent light blue, sparkling with passion and life -- colours he can see all too well now. “Will we die, just a little?”

A knowing smile stretches over his lips and the redhead shivers.

[jazelthegentle]

Sweat, Gold, and Tears Pt 1

The gangway stretched out over the pier before dropping onto the wooden platform with a heavy smack. A chorus of footsteps rocked the old galleon as a hundred Kaldorei stepped out from the darkness. Still covered in the ashes of their beloved home, and kin, they shuffled down the gangway with barely a word spoken among them. Stormwind residents gathered to stare at the latest batch of refugees being corralled down the docks. Displaced, starving, and in mourning, the Night Elves kept their eyes on the ground, their voices in hushed whispers, and their faces soaked with dirty tears. All but the Tideclaws.

Sayuune looked no better off than the rest of them, but she kept her head held high. A month at sea didn't do her any favors; it had been days since she had access to drinkable water, and nearly a week since she had something solid to eat. Her exhausted eyes were bright with hard headed determination, and her face was as still as stone, yet she staggered and stumbled with every other step. 

Her daughter Nodas was faring better, but not by much; her stomach growled loudly and often, while her hungry gaze was fixed on the bands of mercenaries and sellswords who otherwise ignored the flood of incoming refugees. They went about their business in gilded armor and glimmering steel, with swollen coin purses swinging freely from their waists. Surely a few of them wouldn't notice if some of their riches went missing.

"Hello! Hello hello!" Humans descended upon the shuffling crowd pushing or pulling large empty carts. One such creature approached Sayuune and Nodas with an uncomfortable twinkle in his grin. The opulent rings adorning his hands could only mean one thing - merchants seizing an opportunity to prey on the less fortunate. "You need gold! I need moon elf items my collection! We trade be happy!" His Darnassian was awful, but clear enough to understand. Sayuune saw other refugees trading in what little rags they had for copper and silver coins, desperate for a bite to eat and drinkable water. 

The last thing Sayuune wanted to part with was her bramblestaff; not only was it a priceless family heirloom, it was one of the only things she had left of her husband. Reluctantly she raised the staff for the merchant to inspect. "How much will this get me?"

"Mom?!" Nodas hissed, her eyes flaring. "What are you doing?!" She squeezed her daughter's hand to get her to quiet down. 

"We need food."

Unsurprisingly he ripped them off. A staff easily worth twelve thousand gold was traded for less than three."What choice do I have…" When they reached the front of the line, Nodas was relieved to find a fellow Kaldorei sitting behind the desk, but Sayuune wasn't so easily pleased.

"Ishnu-alah, sisters." His dull yellow eyes scanned them both with a most unusual scrutiny. "My name is Lieutenant Armin Ashquiver. I'll need your names."

"Sayuune and Nodas Tideclaw." The mother proudly stated; they could take her home, her belongings, even her family, but their names would forever be theirs. He scribbled down their names in silence, adding them to the long list of poor displaced souls now forced to live in this strange and hostile city.

"There's a soup kitchen at the camps you'll be staying in. Courtesy of His Majesty." He looked up at Sayuune. "Plenty of jobs out there for a steady income, but they're filling up fast. I know you're tired, but I'd recommend looking before nightfall." He pulled out a piece of paper and planted a red stamp on the bottom. "Enjoy your stay in Stormwind City."

The goopy slop poorly masquerading as soup was a grievous insult to the Kaldorei people, but it was still the best meal she's had since Teldrassil. Nodas ate more than her fair share and fell asleep before their tent was even made, but that hardly mattered to her mother; she was just happy her daughter was finally resting. Sayuune, however, couldn’t rest. Once the tent was built around her snoozing daughter, she departed to the streets of Stormwind to find work.

Shop by shop, street by street, she was hit with disappointment again, and again, and again. Day in, day out, sunset to sunset.

"Sorry we're not looking for applicants right now!"

"I'd love to give you a job but I'm full already!"

"I can't hire you right off the street!"

"A buddy of mine across the city might be interested in extra help."

"Sorry, but we can't - what will my wife think hiring a woman like you?"

"Can't hire an elf around here. I got my reputation to uphold… you understand, right?"

"Yeah babe I can hire you, heheh… how much for the night?"

"You're filthy! Beat it vagrant!"

Two weeks of searching. Two weeks of asking. Two weeks of nothing. 

Every time she was turned away, the fake smile and forced persona was whittled down. Nightfall came and went, leaving her exhausted in the Mage Quarter courtyard. Her feet were screaming for rest and she could no longer ignore them; she found the nearest bench and almost collapsed onto it with a well-earned sigh of relief. The gold she earned selling her most prized possession was almost all gone; determination was turning into desperation, and if she didn’t find work soon, her daughter would begin to starve. For now her search would have to be put on hold until the shops reopened in the morning.

A woman eased herself down onto the bench beside Sayuune. Her fragrance was alluring but she couldn't recognize the scent, her silk clothes looked as expensive as the jewelry covering her hands and fingers; her painted nails were quite long, almost impractically so. She made Sayuune feel like a vagrant more than anyone else she's met in this abysmal city. "Hard time finding work?" The stranger asked with a seductively soothing voice. Sayuune was compelled to meet her gaze, but her words caught in her throat the moment she was confronted by her striking beauty; if she wasn't a Highborne, she could fool Sayuune.

"I…" Her timid mutter stirred the stranger to smile, her dark purple lips grinning from ear to ear.

Sayuune didn't notice the woman's hand until her nails traced the base of her chin. "Stunning, aren't I? There isn't a man alive that can resist my delectable charm. The dead ones aren't immune to it either." Sayuune wanted to pull away from her grip, but she felt paralyzed… mesmerized. "But look at you… these high cheekbones… these full lips… these glimmering eyes. You're quite the looker yourself, honey. How long do you plan on wandering these streets like a beggar when you can rule the underground scene like a queen?"

"What… do you…" It was difficult to speak when she gazed into her eyes, almost feeling like she was lost in a sea of swirling quicksilver.

The stranger's smile only grew. "I want to help you get back on your feet. I help run a little organization that's in serious need of gorgeous and flexible women like us. Interested?"

"An escort service?" That was enough to pull Sayuune out of her trance to rise to her throbbing feet. "I can't do that. To even approach me like… I can't. I have a husband I'm waiting on to return from the war… a daughter that looks up to me…"

"A shame." Her tone suddenly changed, as did the frigid expression on her face. "While you wait on your doting man, you and your daughter starve." She rose, towering over Sayuune in her jade heels. "Should you come to your senses, seek out the ugliest worgen you come across in Old Town." An uncomfortable grin spread across her lips. "Tell them Momma sent you." Before Sayuune could speak, Momma tossed a coin purse at her chest. "That's how much my girls can earn in a night. Sleep on it." 

Sayuune watched as the elegant woman turned and strode off, presumably to another potential recruit. She waited until she was gone before opening the coin purse. "Impossible!" Her eyes went wide. "Three hundred gold?! She's lying…!" With that kind of income most of her problems would be over. Her and her daughter would eat better than they ever did; her husband would bring back two to three grand every two months… she could out earn that within weeks! Within days!

"No…" Sayuune closed her eyes and shuddered. "To betray Vilaron like this… I couldn't! How could I look him in the eyes if I… sold my body...?" 

The journey back to the refugee camps was unbearably long. Her imagination played cruel games by asking her questions she didn't want the answers to. "What if Vilaron doesn't make it back in time before we starve to death? What if this woman already approached Nodas? What if she is being used by one of her 'clients' at this very moment?! What if she refused and they killed her?!"

Sayuune ignored the burning ache in her feet from sprinting back to the camps, darting through alleyways and ducking through corridors to get back to her daughter as quickly as possible. The soft glowing campfires down the hill only hastened her steps until she was almost gliding down the path to reach her tent.

She swung open the drape with an audible gasp, and her fears were put to rest; Nodas stirred in her hammock and mumbled under her breath, her feet blackened and calloused from wandering the streets as well. Yet her face was still wet with tears from crying herself to sleep. As Sayuune caught her breath and quietly approached her, she noticed the crumbled scroll still in her grip. Gently she wiggled it free from Nodas' hand, pulled it taut between her fingers, and read the distinct Darnassian letters neatly sprawled across the parchment.

To Sayuune Tideclaw and Nodas Tideclaw,

I regret to inform you the Sentinels recovered the body of one Vilaron Tideclaw. He will be delivered within the month so you can send him off properly.

Elune will grant us justice. 

-L. Armin Ashquiver

Sayuune only made it halfway through the letter before she was blinded by her tears. The shock of this news hit her in waves, crashing against her composure like the tide against the cliffside; she wanted to scream at the top of her lungs, wishing he left with them when Teldrassil burned. Wishing she could go back in time and save him.

Wishing she was dead.

Yet Sayuune endured - she had to. With a sharp inhale and a weak sniffle, she swallowed her anguish for her daughter's sake, stepped out of the tent, and wrapped her arms around herself. Others receiving similar news took it worse than she did; their screams carried across the farmland and over the pointed tents, filling the air with sorrow so palpable she could taste it every time she licked her lips.

Nodas is all she has left of her beloved Vilaron. She is willing to die for her, now more than ever; if she can lay down her life for her daughter, surely she could lay down her dignity as well. What choice did she have? Every day she spends wasting her time looking for honest work, her daughter goes hungry. "For Nodas… no price is too great…"

With a slight grimace on her face and a shiver up her spine, Sayuune braced herself for the hardship she would endure in the unknowable future.