#though it may not be over yet and we still have six chapters to go

[kaylopolis]

Alastor's Shadow (18+) - Chapter Eight

Alastor x F!Reader

Synopsis: There’s a new Overlord in town and it isn’t the Radio Demon. Six years after you fell into Hell, you have finally earned your seat at the table as Pentagram City’s newest and baddest, and with the Extermination coming six months earlier than planned, it is now time to implement your ultimate endgame. After all, who doesn’t love a bit of power and chaos? Your plan brings you to the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel as Charlie’s newest Redeemer, but who you find waiting for you will not only turn your entire plan upside down but also challenge your grab for power… 

Tag List: Slow burn, rivals to lovers, eventual smut

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

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Author note: Dear Hoteliers, I give you my favorite chapter :)

<3 Stay smutty

Chapter Eight - The Headliner

Content Warning: Obsession, Blood, Minors DNI!!!

Fuck.

Everything hurt. 

Was that music? 

You blinked. Hard. Forcing the world into view. The shapes were fuzzy until they formed the ceiling of a canopy bed. 

You vaguely registered Nat King Cole’s “Too Young” playing from the radio on the side table. 

God, everything hurt. Did you already mention that?

With limbs of concrete, you attempted to sit up, but a burning pain shot through your core making the world blur into darkness once again. 

You couldn’t have been out long; “Too Young” had entered its final stanza when you came to. Again, you were met with the red of the bed’s canopy top. 

🎶And yet we're not too young to know🎶

Little movements this time. You turned your head, noting the red silk sheets beneath you. Okay, now the fingers and toes - good they were still intact. The legs? Both still present and working. Arms? Yeah, them too. So was it just your torso? You rolled up, but were just met with more pain. 

Okay, let’s try rolling to the side. You rolled onto your shoulder and slowly pushed yourself into a seated position. The effort and pain made you see stars, but at least you hadn’t passed out. 

Okay, where to begin. Instead of your cloak and leather gear, you found yourself in shorts and a white button-down shirt two sizes too big. The fabric was slightly askew, revealing the bandages crossing your chest underneath. You peeked down the shirt and followed the stained cotton to your belly button. 

Fuck, Velvette practically gutted you from your right hip to your left chest. 

Bitch. 

🎶This love will last though years may go🎶

Your arms and legs had been washed, and your other wounds had healed into scars. A poultice soaked through the cotton wrapped around your feet. Whoever took care of your wound also addressed the blisters still plaguing your toes.

How nice.

Your silver hair had been braided into a long ponytail that reached your lower back. And the shirt you were wearing... Images of deep woods after a rainstorm swam in your vision as you breathed in the fabric - it felt almost familiar. 

Slowly pushing yourself to your feet, you wandered over to the glass doors leading to a balcony. Pentagram City waited twenty floors below. You held your arms around your body as you walked, afraid the stitches would burst and your insides would fall out. Shallow breaths only. Deep breaths hurt. 

🎶And then some day they may recall🎶

It was late, City lights illuminated the night. On the balcony sat two chairs, a single table between them. It finally clicked where you were the exact moment the static prickled the back of your neck. 

🎶We were not too young at all🎶

“Alastor…” you spun meeting the demon face to face, but the view took your breath away.

The Radio Demon stood leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, his weight on one hip. He looked disheveled, his hair a ruffled mess, his monocle missing. His suit jacket was probably hanging in a closet somewhere, revealing a white button-down rolled to the elbows. No bow tie, suspenders hanging around his hips, and no shoes. For feet, he had… hooves.

It was the most skin you had ever seen from the demon and it felt oddly intimate. Maybe you should look away and give him some privacy but part of you didn’t want to stop looking. His shirt top was missing a few buttons, revealing his collarbone and upper part of his chest. From what you could tell he was very… defined. 

His arms were stronger than expected, with a layer of muscle that was obvious in the low light. Scars, grey and faded, criss crossed his forearms like battle wounds. His arms ended in a shade of black much like your own - but his hands. 

Alastor wasn’t wearing gloves. 

That got the butterflies stirring in your belly. Why did that make you so excited? 

The Overlord stared at you with a soft smile on his face but a gaze so intense it could knock you over where you stood. You felt trapped. You felt possessed. And you liked it. 

“What happened to ‘Mr. Alastor’?” He purred. 

You pulled your arms in close, trying to hide the shiver his voice sent down your spine. It was deeper than you remembered. 

Keep your guard up, Thestral, be prepared for anything.

“I think we’re past formalities, don’t you?” You gestured to the clothing. “Didn’t know you even owned a pair of shorts. Didn’t take you for the sort.” You raised an eyebrow at him. 

He tipped his head back and laughed, a deep rumble from his chest. “I saved your life, and your first concern is my wardrobe?” 

You fell silent. He took that as a sign to change the subject. 

“Come, I just finished dinner.” 

You stifled a gasp as Alastor turned on his heels. A tail, the Radio Demon had a tail. The black tuft of hair sat at the crest of his hips, a red undercoat where a white tail deer’s white stripe should be. 

“You have a tail,” you whispered, desperately trying to hide the smile fighting to breakthrough. 

Be prepared for anything.... You snorted into your palm. Anything but that!

Alastor froze, his tail shooting up, ramrod straight. He tipped his head back, his eyes nonchalantly finding yours. “I am a dear demon, darling.” 

Yeah, as if that was the most obvious thing in the world! Is that why he always wore the jacket, to hide his tail? Did he not like others knowing or just assumed that they assumed? God, you didn’t know why he would be ashamed of it, it was adorable!

The demon scoffed before disappearing, you following after him, trying your best not to flat-out stare at the thing the entire time you walked. Alastor led you down a hallway and into a kitchen where a pot was steaming on the stove. Pulling a chair out for you, he sat you on the corner to himself. Silently, you waited for him to ladle a bowl of food.

Why did the silence feel so... weird? 

“Be careful, darling, it’s still hot.” He sat in the chair next to you and just stared.

Your eyes locked on his, you tried searching them, tried to figure out what was happening in this moment, but your mind felt so… distracted by the image of him in an unbuttoned shirt. 

“Eat.” He commanded.

And you obeyed. 

“God, this is amazing.”

He smirked. “I assure you, he had nothing to do with it.” His shoulders relaxed when you ate another spoonful, finally allowing himself to join in with his own bowl. Alastor’s tail wiggled as if it was... happy? You reread the demon’s face - neutral disinterest. Hmmm… Interesting. 

“What is this?” 

“Jambalaya.” 

“Ugh, I’m devastated I hadn’t discovered this sooner,” you smiled, taking another mouthful. Swallowing hurt, but in little amounts, it was manageable. 

As the excitement of the dinner waned, a deep sadness began to settle into your heart. “Is Angel okay?” You practically whispered the question. 

Alastor didn’t skip a beat, continuing to eat as he talked. “It took the spider a few days to get back on his feet, but he is doing well, thanks to you. Don’t fret, the Hotel has not been touched in your absence.”

You nodded, taking more small bites. “How long have I been out?” 

Alastor pulled a newspaper from the Void and handed it to you. The headline read “Shadow Presumed Dead. V Tower To Be Rebuilt.” The date was a week later than you remembered, seven days - damn. 

“I missed my headline.” Mimzy is going to be furious. 

“Darling, you are the headline,” Alastor chuckled, his soup spoon collecting the bottom remnants of his bowl. He got up, taking yours as well as his despite it not being totally empty yet. He filled both to the brim and rejoined you at the table, his tail wagging away. 

Page two had a huge photo of Velvette and Vox grieving and some article filled with bullshit designed to garner sympathy. The story, of course, pointed the blame on you as the aggressor - accurate. Yet no mention of Valentino and his cruel ways. Vox controlled the media, so it made sense. 

Folding the newspaper and tucking it away, you started on your second bowl. “So, how long have you known?” 

His tail froze, his half-lidded eyes finding your own. “That you’re the infamous masked Overlord or a Fallen Angel playing Human Sinner?” 

Your lips parted in surprise. 

“Darling, I had you picked the moment you stepped foot off the elevator at Carmine’s office.” 

You clenched your jaw to prevent it from falling open. “How?” 

He paused for a moment, not looking you in the face as he said, “Jasmine.” 

What had the egg bois said to you before you walked into the elevator? They said you smelled like Jasmine. 

“It’s…” you start but wait for the rest of the pieces to click into place. 

“… your favorite tea.” Alastor finished for you. 

You raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Rosie might have mentioned it in passing.” 

Of course, Rosie did. The Overlord hated it but only ever got it for you. 

Oh my God, everything makes so much sense now! He served wine during your midnight meeting, a cabernet - your favorite - as opposed to his usual rye. He gave you the radio not because he cared about your sleep but because he needed an ally at the top of their game. The way he felt threatened by you even as a Hotelian and not an Overlord - why he always had his shadow following you. It explains his heightened irritation with Vox and the attention the media demon gave you. It explains the unprompted kidnapping to the bayou! He was going to confront you about it! Alastor knew from the fucking beginning because, of course, he fucking did.

That's why he's been so interested in you.

“The second mystery was solved as you bled to death all over my bed sheets.” 

My bed sheets. My bed. His bed. Not a guest room bed but his room. His sheets. His pillows. His clothes.

Oh my God, you were in his clothes! 

You felt a blush creep up your neck. “You…” You dropped your spoon with a clunk into the bowl as the realization hit you. “Did you see me naked!?”

Alastor laughed, his tail wagging yet again, “No. No. As soon as I got you here, I had Rolf summon Rosie. She let me help with the less… intimate parts of your injury before kicking me out. She cleaned you up and dressed you after.” 

He didn't see your back. He didn't see your tattoo.

Oh, thank the stars for that woman. She was a gift from above. Heaven really fucked up on that one. Oh, Rosie. She was going to kill you the next time she saw you. 

Wait… 

“Rolf?” You raised an eyebrow. 

“You didn’t think my shadow had a name?” He smirked his iconic lopsided grin. 

You looked down at the darkness swirling about his feet, which snickered in response.

No, actually, you hadn’t really thought of it as something sentient enough to need one. 

You turned back to the bowl, forcing yourself to eat more. You were full, but damn, was this good. 

Having gone a week without food your stomach had shrunk - only enough room for three-quarters of a serving, but that didn’t stop Alastor from refilling your bowl again and again. 

“I’ll summon Rosie in the morning. Have her bring by some of your things. Satan knows she will scold me for not summoning her sooner, but it is late.” 

You checked the time on the stove. It was three in the morning. 

“Why are you still awake?” 

He looked away from you, “I don’t need sleep to function - correction, I need some, but the number is inconsequential compared to others.” 

So his bed was barely used? If at all? Why was it so grand then? Maybe he used it for other… activities. What had Angel said the other day? The Radio Demon has never been seen with anyone. Rumor has it that he was a virgin - well, that was coming from Vox. 

“I’m not a virgin,” Alastor’s words purred in your memory. Your mind drifted off to pondering the number of other people whom he had shared his bed with before you realized what you were doing. 

Wait, what were you doing? 

You were sitting half-dressed in Alastor’s clothes, sharing a home-cooked meal at his apartment.

ALONE. 

What… 

The Radio Demon brought his spoon to his mouth and licked it, sapping up the juices at the bottom of the bowl. His tongue was black and forked. 

Your face heated with the ideas swimming in your mind of what that tongue could… 

No! 

You jumped to your feet abruptly, knocking the chair back and causing the plates to jump on the table. 

A searing burn shot through your core causing you to bend over in pain.

“What’s wrong?” Alastor bent to meet your eyeline, his arms grasping your shoulders. 

Butterflies and bubbles. Butterflies and bubbles. Butterflies and bubbles. You didn’t know what they meant anymore, and it terrified you. 

“I just…” You stepped out of his grip, not daring to meet his gaze. “I can’t…” You turned and exited the kitchen searching for the door. 

Alastor followed with hurried steps on your heels. You tried a few doors, but none of them were an exit. 

Was it getting hot in here? It was definitely getting harder to breathe, but you didn’t know if that was from the injury or something else. 

“Stop,” Alastor commanded, but you ignored him, turning down another hallway. All you could hear was the pounding of your heart and the slaps of your bare feet on hardwood. 

Another door, this one open, leading to a small library. 

Fuck, this place was a maze. 

“Stop!” Alastor’s tone turned dark. As did the hallway. Were you starting to black out or was that his doing? 

“I need to leave…” You breathed, now in a full panic. 

Another turn… There, an elevator! 

You sprinted for it, but Alastor wrapped his fingers around your wrist and spun you around. He gently backed you into the cement wall. Cupping your cheeks, he tilted your head, forcing you to look into his eyes.

“I said stop.” His tone was soft. “You’re having a panic attack. You need to calm down, or you’re going to pass out. Just breathe, Thestral. Breathe.”

You did as he said, squeezing your eyes shut. Focusing on your inhales and exhales, you willed the beating of your heart to slow. You stood there and just breathed, trying to match his own pattern of breath before you. 

“Look at me,” he commanded. 

And you obeyed. 

His irises were a deep crimson, his pupils blown wide in the low light. You felt some sort of veil lift between the two of you, his magic reaching out for your own. It caressed your form, willing your heart to slow, cooling the burn of your blood in your veins. Alastor was somehow calming you down using the connection you had formed between you.  

God, why was he being so nice to you? The last time the two of you were alone together, he was actively hunting you.

“Why did you save me?” You ask, but it comes out as a whisper. 

“We had a deal,” he answers too fast. 

You didn’t buy it. There had to be more to this - more to why Alastor needed you and your power. Technically, your death benefitted him in the long run, didn't it? Killing you eliminated you as a rival, as an Overlord vying for souls, as a Sinner scheming for Charlie's power - whether he actually knew that or not, but Alastor wasn't stupid. He's had an entire week to think about every move you've made, every word you've said. He's had time to piece things together, enough to know that you weren't at the Hotel to be redeemed.

“Why did you save me?” You ask again, a bite in your voice, tears of frustration forming at the corner of your eyes. 

He exhaled deeply, contemplating his words carefully, before finally leaning in and placing his forehead against yours.

“I had the pleasure of arriving just after you shattered the top floor of V Tower. The way you incinerated Valentino from within... By Satan, you were a vision…” 

You went still. 

“I was sure you were going to kill Velvette and Vox as well until Velvette pulled the Angelic blade and sunk it deep into your chest.” His breathing quickened, his voice deepening to a smokey edge. 

“And that’s when I decided that she was not worthy of owning your death.” Alastor’s grip on your cheeks hardened till he had to let go. He placed one arm against the wall, his forearm and elbow flush with the cool concrete, entrapping you in place. His other found your chin, forefinger and thumb gently caressing your skin. “No one was.” He closed his eyes, guiding his nose to yours. The bridge of it rested against your own. 

You couldn’t think anymore. All manner of logic left your brain the second Alastor's forehead found yours.

“If anyone was going to draw your last breath from these lips,” His thumb finds your bottom lip, and you gasp, drawing a growl deep from the demon’s chest. 

Your lips parted even though you begged them not to. Even though you told them you didn’t want this. Even though they disobeyed and you found yourself okay with it anyway. Even though you wanted more…

His claw traced the curve of your lip oh-so-gently, before wrapping under your chin once more and pulling you closer.

He whispered onto your lips, “It was going to be me…” 

DING-DONG! 

“Ow!” You head-butted the Overlord as a loud chime deafened your left ear. 

Tension broken, the demon rubbed his face as he leaned over and pushed a button on a com. “I told you two to go home!”

“Ay, listen here ya’ ol’ timey prick! We tried! Vaggie won’t let us until we have a fuckin’ update! You don’t have a fuckin’ phone for us to call, like a normal person. So, how the Hell do we know what’s goin’ on!?” 

Angel? 

“Give me that.” You heard what you thought was a shove before a different voice echoed through the machine. “Look Boss, Charlie’s been worried sick. She hasn’t been sleeping. She hasn’t been eating. She’s making the rest of us miserable. Angel took her out and got her drunk, and now she’s an emotional wreck. Just give us an update, and we’ll go home.” 

“Husk?” You gasped. 

“At least tell us she’s breathin’ ya’ strawberry pimp…”

You didn’t hear the rest of what Angel had to say as you slid out from where Alastor had cocooned you against the wall and headed for the elevator doors. You managed to hit the button before Alastor reappeared from a puddle of shadows, blocking the exit.

“What are you doing?” 

“You are not going down there.” He crossed his arms over his chest, staring down at you with cold eyes. 

“What!?” You practically screamed, a burn ran up your throat with the effort. Fuck it hurt. 

Alastor didn’t elaborate further. 

You scoffed. “It’s Husk and Angel, Alastor. They’re friends! If Velvette wanted me dead I doubt she’d send them to finish me off!” 

“You are not going down there,” he repeated, cold malice slithered through his voice. 

You stood for a moment, searching his hard eyes, trying to figure out what he was thinking. 

DING! 

The doors slid open. 

“Oh, yeah,” you drew yourself to your full height - well, almost full height. Your posture pulled on the stitches if you stretched too far. “Stop me, then.” Your gaze met his, hardening to steel. 

A challenge, Radio Demon. 

“You know what I am now, right? Go ahead Alastor, stop me.” Arms out to your sides, you waited for the demon to say something. But he was hard as stone. 

You considered summoning blue flame to make your point, to remind him of how easily you had eviscerated Valentino, but you didn’t have to. The demon yielded. Stepping into the elevator, he waited for you to join.

The ride down was far longer than you expected. Or maybe it was the silence that drove you crazy. No elevator music? Or maybe you had ticked the Radio Demon off to the point he shut it all off. Either way, you didn’t care because when those doors opened and Husk and Angel finally laid their eyes upon you, a wave of relief flooded through you so strong you collapsed into their arms. 

It hurt but you didn’t care.

“Holy, fuckin’ shit balls,” Angel breathed into your hair, making you giggle. His sclera were both white. No more black to be seen. His soul contract was over...

“Hey, kid,” Husk grabbed each of your hands, holding them in his paws. 

“Hey, Husky,” you smiled back. 

“You have a lotta fuckin’ explainin’ to do, Hair clip.” Angel crossed his arms, turning on his overprotective big brother mode. “And yous!” He took a step towards Alastor, finger pointed at his chest. “You got a lot of fuckin’ nerve keepin' her locked up this week! We was worried sick! Husk and I thought we watched her die on television, and the next thing we know, she’s locked up 'ere in your ivory tower! No calls! No updates! No nothin’! You…”

Wait, what did he say?

“Angel!” You stepped between the two of them, cutting off the spider demon’s protests. “Did you say television?” 

“Yeah! Vox was filming the whole thang! Well, minus you burnin' Valentino to a crisp. He wanted your death broadcasted so he could claim the stakes of finally unmaskin' the infamous Overlord. Until, he…” He juts his finger back at Alastor. “Shut down the whole grid! All of Pentagram City was plunged into fuckin' darkness” 

Your eyes find Alastor’s but again are met with a wall of cold steel. 

The blood. Did they see? 

No. His eyes seemed to say. 

You pulled the collared shirt closer around you, buttoning an extra level to hide the gold-soaked cotton bandages underneath.

Rosie had taught you how to magick your blood, to have it appear red as opposed to its usual gold. You’d bleed red unless met with an Angelic blade, unless met with a blow promising death, unless you were too weak for the magic to hold. 

Husk and Angel knew who you were but not what. Not yet. But Velvette and Vox? Velvette still has the blade, which means she saw the blood that stuck to it after she cut. Which meant the remainder of the Vees knew what you were - but not who. 

They knew how to kill you. 

Fuck. 

“We searched for you for hours!” Angel hung his head, his voice cracking. “And he had you the whole fuckin’ time.” 

“We thought you died,” Husk added, his eyes shooting daggers at Alastor. 

We thought you died. Died. You never thought about death. Angels never did because Angels can’t die. Even when Velvette pulled the blade, you didn’t think she would kill you. Maime you horribly, yes, but not kill you because Angels don’t die.

But couldn’t they? 

Your mind flashed back to the last extermination. The Overlords always disappeared in the hours before the Extermination. It was policy. Yes, souls came begging for protection - as they always did - but what protection could be offered? You couldn’t fight the Exorcists and even if you tried to hide the souls you owned, it just made for easier pickings when they eventually found you. Groups were targets. 

So the Overlords “left.” Technically, human Sinners couldn’t leave the Pride Ring, so you found other ways to disappear.

You and Rosie always went to Mimzy’s. The three of you sat in the basement and played cards. Mimzy didn’t know who you were; she thought of you more so as Rosie’s adopted daughter before she eventually brought you on as her club’s piano player. 

You were in the middle of a scandalous game of Belot when you felt a familiar tug behind your navel. Someone was using a card to summon you. And that someone was Carmilla. Orange and mint flooded your mouth - fear. Whatever was happening, it was bad. 

You excused yourself to the restroom and slid out the back door. 

Following the call, you found them at the edge of the Doomsday District. The Overlords kept their hiding places secret even from each other. You didn’t know where they were headed, and they didn’t know where you had come from. Your own hiding spot wasn’t in your territory, so why should theirs be? 

Carmilla and Odette were in the middle of the plaza, Clara in a heap of blood and broken bones between them. 

Exorcists flew in a flurry about your head. Sinners were screaming, 

It was a tornado of blood and death. A massacre of the defenseless. You hadn’t seen anything like it since… well, the time of the Old Testament. 

And a beheaded Exorcist lay ten feet from you...

Oh, Carmilla. What had you gotten yourself into? 

“Please, I didn’t know who else to call…” Carmilla grabbed you by the collar of your cloak and dragged you down to the cement. 

Odette sobbed, curling into her sister’s dying form. 

“I can’t…” You breathed. The feeling of her soul fading was like a whisper against your skin. She was fading fast. 

“Please!?” Carmilla begged. 

“I… I…” There wasn’t anything you could…

And then Carmilla screamed. 

She screamed your name. 

Not Thestral. 

Your name.

Your God-given name. 

She grabbed your arm and ran it against the silver in her leggings. Golden liquid bubbled from your skin and dripped onto the pavement before she thrust the wound into her daughter’s mouth. 

She knew. She knew you weren’t just any Angel. 

Not like a low-level Exorcist. Low-level Exorcists can't heal the dying. Low-level Exorcists can't summon Holy Fire.

You weren't a low-level Exorcist. You were special. 

The three of you held your breath as Clara’s wounds began to restitch themselves, as the blood finally stopped flowing. 

There was a gasp as Clara’s eyes fluttered open. Carmilla collapsed into a heap of sobs, holding her daughter close and whispering in Spanish into her ear. Odette pulled you in, thanking you before joining her mother. 

You were numb to the world until you got to your feet and locked eyes with a Sinner. 

At some point, your hood had fallen down.

He had seen your face. 

He had heard your name.

And so had about fifteen others now standing awestruck around you. 

Fifteen people who had to die. 

Fifteen innocent Sinners who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

Fifteen people you turned to ash. 

“We didn’t tell the others what happened.” Angel’s voice brought you back to the room. “They think you were caught in the crossfire.”

“They don't know about Angel either,” Husk added. 

Fuck. 

Alastor must have seen the blood drain from your face because he took one step between you and the boys. “This meeting is over.” 

“What?” The boys gawked. 

He was right. The pain in your torso was throbbing, bringing a sting to your eyes. 

You reached out, hesitating before fingering the edge of his rolled sleeve. The demon turned to you in surprise, a look of… we’ll you didn’t know what sprawled across his face. You waited for the flinch, for the smack, for the scowl, but, to your surprise, he didn’t shove you off. “Twenty more minutes?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Please?”

Something in his steel gaze softened. He wanted to say no. He wanted to drag you back upstairs and lock you away - but he didn’t. Instead, he locked the front door, pulled a chair from the Void for you to sit, and trudged back into the elevator. 

“Twenty, not a second more. Rolf will keep an eye on you.” 

The shadow detached itself from Alastor’s form and wrapped itself around your torso. For once, you found its coldness soothing. 

“Where are you going?” 

DING! The doors shut. 

“Okay,” Angel started, a pair of arms on your shoulders. “First question, who the Hell is Rolf?” 

____________________________________________

It was like a bomb going off. 

You hit the penthouse first, knowing the Overlords enjoyed a nightcap before turning in. Your weeks of spying had paid off and, luckily, Voxtek’s Angelic Security still wasn’t online. 

Valentino, Velvette, and Vox were spread out along their giant three-piece couch, looking absolutely dumbfounded when you crashed through the window in a blaze of blue flames. 

You went for the moth demon’s throat before he had a chance to react. Wrapping your claws around his neck, you jumped back into the night. You fell, summoning your wings to beat harder, garnering as much speed as possible. 

When you hit the pavement, Val first, an explosion ripped through the Entertainment District, taking out half a block of storefronts, cars, and anyone caught in the crossfire. 

You pulled a broken Valentino to his feet in a crater fifty feet deep. The pimp was barely breathing, his eyes unable to focus on anything. The demon was dead, and he knew it; unable to put up a fight, he just watched you and breathed. 

“This is for Angel,” your deep voice spewed.

And then the burning began. You made it slow and torturous, starting with his feet and the tips of his wings and moving upwards until it consumed him completely. He screamed - his last moments filled with the stench of orange and mint - with fear.

You had killed so many times before, but never had it felt this good. 

And then he was a pile of ash. 

“No!” Velvette screamed. The brat demon and Vox were huddled over the edge of the concave abyss, watching the ash of their fallen partner blow away in the wind. 

“You fucking arsehole,” she screamed. “You’re going to die for this!” 

She lept, her claws sharpened to talons. Behind her Vox transformed into his demon form. Nearly three stories tall, the demon was a mass of electrokinetic energy, his claws digging into the cement of the street as sparks of blue scattered across the street.

Now this was a fight!

Velvette didn’t have a chance to land, for you back slapped her so hard she went flying into the wall of the crater, cracking cement beneath her body. 

Vox was next, but you were faster. A surge of electrical wiring launched at you like a cobra striking its prey. You spun, easily dodging, and blasted through his screen like a missile. It wasn’t enough to kill him, but you were merely aiming to temporarily blind him while you dealt with the Bitch Queen herself. 

Velvette climbed out from the crater, calling you every swear word in the book and then some. 

She pulled a silver dagger from her jacket - a Carmilla Carmine blade. “I’m going to gut you like a fish!” 

And then she attacked. 

Eventually, Vox recovered, using any opening Velvette gave him to compliment her onslaught. And you were holding your own for a while, attempting to find various ways to stall Vox so you could get to Velvette, until...

You sent a wall of flame at the female Vee before turning to Vox and...

“Unknown.” A familiar female voice chimed. “Unknown. Unknown. Unknown.”

“What the fuck!?” Vox screamed, shaking his phone before slamming it against the ground. 

The Soul Scanner. He was trying to get a read on who you are, but the technology couldn’t register your soul.

The media demon paused before his eyes met yours, the gears behind his irises turning in his head. And then something like recognition flashed in his eyes. Before you had a chance to think, a cackle echoed behind you. 

Vox’s distraction left an opening, and as you spun, the female Vee ran that blade diagonally across your body. 

You collapsed, your back to them, golden liquid pouring onto the pavement.

Velvette cackled, “Fucking, finally! Now I’m…” Velvette screamed, her sentence cut off abruptly. 

You needed to get out of there. You needed to flee, but before you could summon your wings, a wave of darkness swam over you. 

In one blink, you were in the Entertainment District; the next, you were outside Pentagram City in the Nothing. The outskirts of the City dropped off to nothing but endless black dirt and red sky going on for what everyone assumed was forever. Natives called it the "Nothing" because that was what was here: nothing. 

A pair of red and white dress shoes appeared at the edge of your vision before everything went black. 

____________________________________________

“And then I woke up here,” you finish - you left out the part about bleeding golden Angelic blood, of course. 

The boys were silent until Angel leaned in and wiggled his eyebrows at you. “You show me yours, I’ll show you mine.”

“Seriously?” Husk shot him an exasperated look. 

“What I wanna see 'er wings! Can I see ya' wings? I mean where the Hell do you put ‘em, anyway? I don’t see you carryin’ a purse or nothin'." 

You giggled, the action burning through your chest. “Uhm,” God, your body hurts. “I can try, but I’ll rip the shirt.” 

“So? Smiles probably has like fifty more up in his castle.” Angel waved it off. 

You looked to Rolf for permission but the shadow was oddly still. “Okay.” 

You stood and summoned your wings, but the wave of pain that came because of it manifested as dizziness and nausea. Luckily, Husk caught you before you fell. 

“Get her upstairs, Rolf,” he passed you off to the shadow who somehow was able to hold you up despite being incorporeal. 

Your vision blurred with the movement as he loaded you into the elevator. 

“Ah, shit! I’m sorry I didn’t know!” Angel? 

DING! The doors closed, and you ascended. Shivers wracked through your body, drowning you in sweat. Suddenly, the lights were too bright, the sounds too loud, and the world began to blur.

DING! 

Alastor was there, his face full of worry, his usual smile replaced with straight-lipped concern. With elbows under your knees and hands behind your shoulders, he carried you back to his room, your dark wings scraping the floor as he walked. 

His face was so foreign in this moment, like seeing him without a smile somehow made him a completely different person. It almost felt like he was sharing a secret with you, one only you knew about and one only he let you hear. 

The demon pushed open his bedroom door with his foot, the lights of Pentagram City illuminating the air about him. Alastor was glowing, his form ethereal as golden hues danced about his ashen skin. He was almost angelic...

And that made the lack of his smile all the more disconcerting.

“Huh,” you slurred as he set you on the bed, the world beginning to blur. “I always wondered what you looked like without a smile.” 

Darkness took you. 

Al - "I will kill you!" You - *actively starts dying* Al- "No, wait!"

The Vox blowup is coming, Hoteliers, don't you worry ;)

-> Chapter Nine Coming Soon! (6/22)

Link to Masterlist: Masterlist

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added): @sirens-and-moonflowers @wonderlandangelsposts @saccharine-nectarine @goyablogsstuff @mommymilkers0526 @eris-norwega @missgirlsstuff @alastor-the-radio-demons-blog @its-a-dam-blue-brick @sillywormtrixareforkids @cloverresin20

[partystoragechest]

A story of romance, drama, and politics which neither Trevelyan nor Cullen wish to be in.

Canon divergent fic in which Josephine solves the matter of post-Wicked Hearts attention by inviting invites four noblewomen to compete for Cullen's affections. In this chapter, the Ladies say their farewells. But--

(Masterpost. Beginning. Previous entry. Next entry. Words: 2,764. Rating: all audiences.)

Chapter 44: Not Over Yet

The Ladies rose before the sun.

Despite their late night, they were duty-bound to wake early. Lady Samient was to leave before dawn came. They all had to be there to see her off.

They gathered in the courtyard, the first rays of light creeping over the mountains. It would be that light which would guide her retinue—no more than a dozen troops, for small was discreet—to the Free Marches.

“Do you think Vichy will be glad to see me, looking like this?” Samient asked, of the Inquisition armour she wore—identical to that of the soldiers who lingered nearby.

“I think it shan’t matter what you wear,” said Trevelyan, “he will simply be happy to see you.”

“And at least you shall be matching,” Lady Erridge teased.

Samient laughed, the joke causing her to settle somewhat. “That is true.”

Trevelyan had never seen her Ladyship quite so nervous as this. It was a shame she would miss the reunion. She so wished to know what Samient was like in the presence of her lover. What a happy, silly mess she might be!

“Do not worry about your father,” the Baroness reassured her. “Lady Montilyet and I shall deal with all that. You focus upon the journey home.”

“Thank you,” said Samient.

She glanced back to the retinue, all in rows, receiving orders from their Captain. The time was nigh. Lady Samient brought her hair up, and tied it into a bun atop her head. Her ears entirely exposed, she ran a finger over the very tips—pointed and proud.

“Shame they’ll have to go straight back under a helm,” she muttered.

Trevelyan smiled. “Though not for much longer.”

“And never again after that.”

Her ritual of readiness must not have gone unnoticed, for her Dalish liaison—a young Elven man called Loranil—took the opportunity to run up, and report in:

“Your Ladyship, we’re ready to march.”

She thanked him, and away he went. Now was the time to follow. Reluctant, she took a step back.

“Well… I suppose I should make my way, then,” she mumbled. “I, um, well—”

“Oh, come here!” Lady Erridge cried, rushing forward. She threw her arms around Samient—soon followed by both Trevelyan and the Baroness. Tangled together, warmth shared. One last time.

“We love you, you know,” said Lady Erridge.

“I know,” Samient replied, sniffling back tears. “I love you too.”

“Have a safe journey,” Trevelyan wished her.

“And write as soon as you can,” the Baroness added. “Tell us everything of your Clan.”

Samient nodded. “I will. I will.”

Each woman held on tight, unflinching in her devotion. It was the sort of embrace that could anchor a ship in a storm. The sort of embrace that could melt the deepest winter. The sort of embrace that could outshine the very sun, and sear even a dragon’s tongue.

Yet, like all good things, it would have to come to an end. One last squeeze, and they parted. Taking a deep breath, Lady Samient took another step back.

“Farewell. All of you. And be happy. Please.”

Though holding tight onto one another, the Ladies began to wave. And they would not stop until Lady Samient was truly gone.

No, Giles. She wished to be remembered as Giles.

Giles found her place within the regiment. A few words were said between her and the soldiers, which seemed to make her smile. She placed her helm upon her head—at least it concealed the tears—and, with one final look back, marched out of Skyhold.

May Ghila’nain guide her home.

***

No sooner than the remaining Ladies had recovered from this, than it was Lady Erridge’s turn.

Her carriage had arrived. They all had gathered. Her things were packed. Orroat’s horse was hitched. It was time.

Naturally, Lady Erridge was inconsolable. Whimpering, tear-stained, and red, she threw herself into Orroat’s arms, and begged: “Can’t we stay just one week more?”

But Lady Orroat shook her head. “I would agree to your every request, my love, but I am afraid if I say yes, you shall never leave.” She tapped Erridge lovingly upon the nose. “And I do not know how the Bann will continue to survive without you. Your poor mother had to sew a dozen more handkerchiefs for him, last time I visited.”

“Oh, dear.”

“Don’t worry”—Orroat dabbed her eyes, ineffective as it was—“we managed to see each other as children, so this will be done as well—and we’ll pass through here plenty, I imagine.” She turned to Trevelyan and Touledy. “You are always welcome in Coldon, of course.”

“I would be glad to visit,” said the Baroness.

“As would I,” Trevelyan agreed.

Lady Erridge whirled, and took hold of their hands. “Oh, please do! I do not wish this to be our last meeting!”

Trevelyan feigned shock. “Why, are we uninvited from your wedding!?”

“Oh, no, no! Of course you are invited. What a wonderful day that shall be. No—a week! It shall be an entire week of festivities! I promise you.” She looked to Orroat. “Don’t you think?”

“If you so wish, my love.”

“Thank you, my love.”

Their saccharine nature was the only thing, at that moment, keeping Trevelyan from crying. Although, she had to admit, a tear did well upon her eye.

“I’m afraid the carriage is ready, Tam,” said Orroat, solemnly. “We’ll need to clear the mountain range before sundown, so we’ll have to be gone soon.”

“Oh, dear!” cried Erridge.

She looked to the Ladies, frozen in place. Hesitation held her back, the knowledge that the next moments with them would be her last—at least for now.

Yet those moments were not to be squandered. Lady Erridge surged forward, swaddling both Trevelyan and Touledy within her embrace. The loveliest, warmest, kindest hug yet.

Trevelyan savoured the feeling.

“You know,” murmured Erridge, “were it not for you, I would have never known myself in love with dear Hul. It was only in befriending you that I realised my feelings for her were different.” She snuggled in closer. “Though just as precious.”

“We love you,” whispered Trevelyan.

“We do,” agreed Touledy.

“I love you both,” said Erridge.

It was this sentiment that seemed to provide her the strength to step away, for nothing could be so enduring. But even as her fingers slipped from Trevelyan’s arm, she whispered to her:

“I’ll miss you terribly, Wicky.”

Trevelyan smiled. “And I you.”

But missing her would have to do—the carriage was loaded, the drivers seated. Lady Orroat opened the door.

“Are you ready, my love?”

“I think so,” Erridge replied.

She offered her hand. Lady Orroat took it, and kissed it, and guided Lady Erridge into the carriage—but did not follow. Not yet. Instead, she looked to the Ladies.

“Thank you for caring for my dear Tam so well,” she told them. “I cannot express how much it means, to know she is loved. I hope to make her even half as happy as you have.”

Trevelyan nodded. “Good. For if you break her heart, we shall kill you.”

“Painfully,” the Baroness added.

Lady Orroat smiled. “I would expect no more and deserve no less.”

She clambered into the carriage, setting beside her dear Lady. Trevelyan watched, quite satisfied that their message had been heard, and that Lady Erridge was in good hands.

And those good hands kept her stable, as Erridge fumbled over Orroat’s lap, to poke her head out of the window.

“Farewell!” she called. “We shall meet again! I love you!”

The signal was given, the reins taken up. The carriage began to trundle away.

“We shall meet again!” repeated Erridge, as it slipped into the gatehouse. Her voice echoed off the stone. “Farewell!”

“Farewell!” the Ladies cried. “Safe journey! Farewell!”

And then it was off, the carriage rumbling over the old stone bridge. Trevelyan imagined that, within it, at that very moment, Lady Orroat had taken Lady Erridge’s hand, and held it tight. It was not so hard to believe.

Good. The sooner they were married, the sooner they would all see each other again.

For now, though, sadness remained a most stalwart companion.

Trevelyan pulled her napkin from a pocket—the poor little cloth only just having dried from its use earlier in the morning—and dabbed at her eyes. It was a wonder she had any tears left. The Baroness, similarly, dried her own. She looked to Lady Trevelyan, and, wordlessly, linked their arms together. Just two Ladies left.

“Come,” she said, “my carriage will not be ready for another hour. Let us pass the time. May I see your new quarters, before I go?”

A good distraction. Trevelyan nodded.

Together, they wandered, back towards the keep. Up, into the Great Hall. Calmer now, than yesterday. The normal sort of hubbub and ambience.

They turned not towards the rotunda door and its guest corridor above, but towards the door to Montilyet’s parlour. Tucked within, they knew well enough, was the little landing that preceded her lounge. And off this landing, were two sets of stairs.

They took the ascending route, to an entirely new corridor. Stretching out above the parlour, snaking into the Inquisitor’s tower, this corridor housed the rooms of some of the Inquisition’s innermost circle.

“I couldn’t quite believe it, when she told me where it was,” Trevelyan admitted.

“It is a privilege to be amongst them,” mused Touledy.

They turned into the tower, ascended a little way up… and soon enough, came across a door.

“This is it,” Trevelyan said, turning the key. “Though I warn you—it’s not mightily impressive.”

She opened up, and wandered in. The Baroness followed, and put on a good show of admiration—but Trevelyan knew it was merely politeness.

This room she’d been given was a touch smaller than that of her guest room. Understandable—guests were to be impressed with comfort; residents simply needed somewhere to sleep. The furnishings were more basic, too—but better than the ones she’d had in the Circle, by far.

The bed, though not four-poster, was of a sufficient size. “Though you’ll not test this one,” she teased the Baroness.

“I believe that is someone else’s duty.”

Trevelyan laughed. “And here is my desk!” she quickly continued, proudly showing the little bureau. “I’m truly glad to have this. I’ll be able to work here, should the Undercroft be too busy. Oh, and look!”

She pointed to the window just above it, that allowed the morning’s light into the room. The Baroness peered out, and gasped at what she saw.

“Oh! Are these not the same mountains we saw from your stargazing spot?”

Trevelyan nodded. “Yes! I can sit here, on a night, and look out—without having to get so cold!”

Touledy grinned. “But how then will you secretly rendezvous with the Commander, hm?”

“I believe you’ve already suggested a method!”

They laughed, and Touledy regarded the room once more. There was little else of note—a trunk and drawers, for storage, and a pair of chairs—but she nodded approvingly nevertheless.

“It may not be much, but I think it is lovely.”

Trevelyan smiled. “I know. So do I. And—”

There was a rapid knock at the door. Trevelyan perked. The Baroness’ carriage could not have been ready so soon? She rushed over, and opened up. A scout stood on the other side.

“Morning, your Ladyship. This just arrived for you—urgent.”

They handed over a small piece of vellum. She could tell by the writing it was a bird-message, transcribed.

“Thank you,” she said, letting them hurry on their way. She shut the door, and wandered back toward Touledy.

“Who is it from?” her Ladyship asked.

Trevelyan steeled herself. “I think I know.”

Though her soul screamed not to, her eyes began to scan the words:

Daughter,

If there is no engagment, there is no reason for you to stay. We shall be travelling to Val Royeaux. Meet us there, or we shall have you fetched.

Bann Trevelyan

Trevelyan’s lungs stopped. The paper fell from her hand, spinning to the ground. They couldn’t—she gasped—they couldn’t just come for her? They couldn’t take her away. No, no—

Touledy, leaning hard on her cane, managed to collect the message from the floor, and read it for herself. Her eyes widened.

“Stay calm, Lady Trevelyan. Everything will be all right.”

Trevelyan shook her head. “But they—but they… I didn’t think they would come get me! I thought they would just leave me be. Why won’t they leave me be?”

Shaking, she found the arm of a chair. The Baroness guided her into it.

“Shh, stay calm. It is all right. You are of the Inquisition now. You have protection. They cannot simply pluck you from Skyhold. We should tell Lady Montilyet of this. She still owes you a debt.”

The Baroness rose, and hurried to the door, sticking her head out. Grunting, she rushed back.

“The scout is gone,” she explained, “so I shall find Montilyet myself. You remain here. Stay calm, all right? Breathe. All right? Breathe.”

Trevelyan did as instructed, taking breaths in, and pushing them forcefully back out.

“Good,” cooed Touledy, stroking her arm, “very good. I will be a moment. Just a moment. We will have this sorted, I promise you.”

Trevelyan nodded. Seeing that permission, Touledy gathered herself, and left the room. Her cane tapped away with a heightened rhythm. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

But when it vanished, Trevelyan was left with only the sound of her own breathing. She clasped her hands together, till her knuckles turned white, and held them against her chest. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

A knock at the door. Touledy was faster than promised.

“Come in!” she cried.

“Arcanist?” came the reply.

Trevelyan turned. The Commander stood in her door. She lost her breath again.

“Are you all right?” he said, abandoning what he carried upon her dresser, and pulling a chair up beside her. “What’s wrong?”

She pressed a hand to her mouth, unable to say it without crying. “My parents…”

No use. She passed him the message, instead. He read it. His face fell. His head shook.

“No,” he breathed. “They cannot take you from Skyhold.”

“They’ll try.”

“Then what if…” He tried to catch her eye. “What if you told them we were engaged? Would that settle them?”

“No!” Trevelyan stood, tears falling anew. “I don’t want to do what they want! I want to do what I want! I wanted to be done with them! I just…” She bowed her head, and wept. “I wanted to be free.”

She felt her body buckle—but no sooner than it had, than it was held upright. The Commander enveloped her in his arms, held her tight against his chest. She clung to him in turn, buried her head within the fur of his mantle. It was all him, keeping her together.

“No one can take you from Skyhold without your consent,” he murmured. “I promised to you. You are safe within these walls. They could send an army. They will not take you from—here.”

Trevelyan nodded. Her breathing slowed. She believed him. She believed him.

Footsteps—hurried, heeled footsteps—neared.

“Lady Trevelyan!” came Montilyet’s voice, as she rounded into the room. “The Baroness has just told me! Are you well?”

Trevelyan shook her head. The Commander, slowly, gently released her into Lady Montilyet’s arms.

“It’s all right, Lady Trevelyan,” she told her. “I will go to Val Royeaux myself if I have to! You are an Arcanist of the Inquisition, and you belong here.”

Trevelyan sighed. “I want to stay.”

“I know. You will.”

Further footsteps. Trevelyan glanced toward the door, and saw the Baroness had arrived as well. But—the Commander was gone.

“Where is he?” she asked.

“He slipped away,” the Baroness revealed. She wandered over to the dresser, and admired the bouquet of flowers that had appeared upon it. “But it seems he left you a gift... I shall find someone who can fetch a vase of water.”

The Baroness withdrew. Lady Montilyet sat Trevelyan down, and brought the flowers to her. Trevelyan accepted the arrangement, gladly. Such a beautiful little bouquet. Poppies, and spinwort, crystal grace and daisies. Put together by one with no knowledge of flowers. Ever more beautiful for it.

“Trust me,” said Lady Montilyet, sitting beside her. “I can deal with the Bann and Lady Trevelyan. Easily.”

But Trevelyan shook her head. “No,” she said. “I want to deal with them. Myself.”

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 33

part 1 | part 32 | ao3

Chapter 8

cw: period-typical attitudes/language

"Steve," Robin hisses through the phone, and he can practically hear her nostrils flaring. "I have been trapped at Uncle Bobby and Aunt Deb's house for six. days." She drops her voice to a harsh whisper, the tone somehow even more disapproving at a lower volume. "HOW have you not kissed him yet??"

"It's not like I didn't try!" Steve throws his hands up; nearly knocks his broom to the floor. He's finally sweeping up the shards of glass in the living room, because he's tired of wearing shoes in his own house (and because at some point he's going to have to have the kids over whether he wants to or not. He's kind of surprised Erica hasn't shown up demanding to hang Christmas lights yet; that girl is aggressively festive.) "He was all 'ask me in the morning,' so I was gonna ask him in the morning! Not my fault it was Monday morning and his stupid uncle barged in yelling about how he was going to be late for school."

"You really shouldn't call him stupid," she interrupts, "that man is a saint."

"No, you’re right. Wayne's awesome."

It’s true. Wayne walked in on them that morning, like, fully spooning in their sleep — Eddie pressed all along Steve's back with an arm over his waist, their ankles intertwined — and rather than beat Steve's ass and ban him from their house like Steve expected him to, he just awkwardly grunted 'breakfast is ready' and shut the door.

"I'm always right," Robin gloats in his ear.

"You're always the worst."

"You love me." Steve hears shuffling as she adjusts the cord — probably wiggling around to lie on her stomach on the bed and kick her feet up in the air the way she likes — and then she says, "I'm still not seeing how this explains the other five whole days, though."

Jesus. Five whole days. Like she's his unimpressed boss and he’s late with the quarterly reports. "Our schedules kept not lining up! And then he went out of town with Jeff's family for the holiday."

"And you haven't called him?"

Steve glares flatly at the phone; hopes she can feel it through the line. "Literally how would I do that, Robin?"

"Well— I don't know! Maybe..." She hums in thought then snaps her fingers, talking fast. "Ooh! You could ask Wayne for the number? I mean, he'd have to know it in case he needed to reach Eddie, right?"

"Uh huh." Steve loves her solution-oriented brain, he really does, but that's one of the worst ideas he's heard in a while. (And he's including Mike and Dustin's attempted kidnapping last month.) "Yeah, let me get right on that," he snarks, switching the phone to his other ear. "I’ll just call them up and say, 'Hey, Mr. or Mrs. Jeff's Grandparents! This is Steve Harrington, may I—? Oh. Who's Steve Harrington, you ask? Nobody, sir or ma’am, just the kid who stood by and watched while his teammates gave your grandson a swirlie two years ago, so I'm sure he fucking hates me still for that! Anyway, can I please flirt with your house guest now?'"

Robin's whinnying into the receiver by the time Steve finishes his rant, and he begrudgingly laughs along with her, shaking his head as he stoops to pick up the dust pan.

"Okay," she concedes. "You may have a point."

"Thank you."

"But you still have to do something to make up for this when he gets home! Otherwise, he's going to think you're, like, having a straight boy crisis or something and get all weird."

"I'm not having a 'straight boy crisis,'" Steve rolls his eyes. He's having a bisexual boy crisis — at least, according to the three hour phone call he had with Robin the other night (which was humiliating, by the way; he never thought he'd be quietly crying tears of total confusion while saying the words 'I still likes boobies, though' out loud. Jesus Christ. Sexuality is embarrassing.) "And I already have a grand gesture in mind, anyway."

"Oh?" Robin perks up. "Do tell."

"I was thinking we could, like..." Hmm. It's sounding less grand when he goes to say it out loud. "Well, shit, I don't know. I thought we could go to one of his shows together when you get back, but now that sounds kind of lame?"

“No, that's good! That's perfect, actually. We can get a whole group together to go support him, then he'll see that you're not embarrassed to be seen around him with your friends."

"Wait, was that a concern?" Oh, god. He dumps more glass into the trash can; hisses when a little shard gets his fingertip; sucks the wound into his mouth. "Are you sure it’s not-? I mean, I want him to know I mean it in a romantic way, not just a friendly gesture."

"Well, yeah, obviously. But you can't just go by yourself; his bandmates hate you."

Oh, right. “Yeah.” That would be pretty awkward to loiter in a booth by himself all night while Jeff and Gareth and the other kid glare daggers at him. "Do you think you could get a group together? If I do it…"

"…We'll be hanging out with a group of dorky freshman all night?”

"Rude."

"Accurate."

"You know what? Tell Deb and Bobby they can keep you."

"Ah!" Robin gasps. "You would turn to stone like a troll in the sun without me, and you know it!"

Man, he misses her. "Yeah, I know it." He puts the broom back up on the hook. "When ya comin' home?"

"Soon, I hope. I swear to god if I have to hear Deb and Patty fight over the leftovers one more time—!" She cuts herself off with a strangled noise, and Steve laughs at her plight. "Anyway, yes. I'll ask some friends at school—"

"—Is one of those friends Vickie?"

“I can multi-task; shut up."

"I love you," he smiles.

"Love you, too, dingus.” Her voice dips soft and sincere for just a second; there and gone. “Hey, I have to go, Carrie wants the phone.”

“You have too many relatives.”

“Ugh, I know. Okay. Leaving for real now; can't wait to see you for Operation Woo Your Man!”

"Robin, no-!”

“Got to go byeeeee.”

“We’re not calling it that!” He holds the phone out with both hands so he can yell into the receiver. “Robin? Robin!"

The line's already dead.

—

part 34

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added tomorrow please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[ash5monster01]

Piano Man

Chapter Two - If I Only Had the Words (to Tell You) 🎶

Pairing: Steve Harrington x FemReader

Warnings: fluff, mentions of heartbreak, abandonment issues, emotional vulnerability, heart ache, established relationship

Summary: You and Steve have been dating for nearly 6 months, all of which he’s enjoyed. Yet it has been exactly a year since Nancy told him he was bullshit. So even though he desperately wants to tell you he loves you he’s afraid you might say he’s bullshit too.

word count: 2k

One ←→ Three

Masterlist

Fall 1985

But I only have these arms to hold you

It’s a dark Fall night. The house smelling of popcorn you had popped earlier to watch during a movie. Halloween decorations had been plastered all over Steve’s home, a home that hadn’t been decorated for any holiday in a very long time. You had changed that though, changed him. You made not only this home full, but his heart. Which is why Steve lies beside you in his bed absolutely hating himself for not being able to tell you how he feels. How much he loves you, how much you had saved him these last six months.

You had been there for it all. Cheering in the stands when he graduated, taking your lunch break to visit him everyday at Scoops Ahoy, not getting jelous of his newfound friendship with Robin, taking care of him when the monsters returned and the mall burned down, and even helping him and Robin get hired at the video store where you had worked this entire time. Everytime he thought you'd leave, somehow you were still there, and he appreciated you for every bit of it. So why the hell couldn't he say it?

He knew why. He knew because everytime he looked at the plastic Halloween decorations filling his home he was brought right back to Tina's Halloween party. Right back to that very bathroom where the only girl he ever loved looked into his eyes and told him he was bullshit. It had been a year but he still remembered how devastated he was, how his heart felt as she ripped it straight from his chest. The look in her eyes was seared into his memory, devoid of any emotion but distate blazing in them. He couldn't relive that, wouldn't relive that. Especially with you.

He may have loved Nancy but with you it was different. With you, he knew you were going to be the one. The one person handcrafted specifically for him. A soul designed to match his own in a large and lonely world. Somehow he had found you and now he wouldn't do anything to risk it, he would guarantee it. It had hurt when Nancy said she didn't love him but if you did. Well that would kill him.

"What kind of candy do the kids like?" you ask in the dark bedroom, voice overlapping that of Billy Joel's from the cassette player. You're My Home played softly throughout the room and you wished Steve knew that was how you felt about him. That until now you were pretty sure you had nowhere to belong and now you belonged to him.

"Why do you ask?” Steve hums, hands reaching to run through your hair. He lived for nights like this, where you just laid here with legs tangled together and talked about things practically meaningless.

"Well I want to make them happy, I know how much they love Halloween. Dustin hasn't shut up about it all week and I want something to cheer Mike up. I know how badly they wanted to dress up as The Goonies but with Will and El gone they can't" you tell Steve, hand lacing with his own under the covers. Steve smiles softly at you and how much you care for the very kids he had taken under his own wing.

"I don't know what kind of candy they like, I'm sure whatever is fine. As for Mike, tell him we can be Andy and Brand. Maybe I can convince Robin to be Data or something" Steve tells you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. The image of Robin in the Data costume meant for Will makes you giggle and Steve is pulling you closer, chest brushing against your own.

"You'd give up our Grease costume for that?" you ask, knowing how excited he was to be Danny Zuko and wear his leather jacket.

"Yeah but don't tell them that. They'll get big heads" Steve grumbles, practically hearing Dustin tease him about how much he loves all of them. You giggle against him and Steve warms over, feeling those very words sitting heavy on his chest. If only he had the words to tell you. He knew you were waiting, wondering why he hadn't said them. If you only had time to understand why he struggled with it so much. Everyone he ever loved left, if he said these words outloud he couldn't risk you leaving him too.

"You're the best Stevie" you tell him, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to his nose. Steve hums in delight, not allowing you to back away as he pulls you to his lips and kisses you quickly. He knows you love him, you only said things like that to replace those very words. If he would just say it your response would have been 'I love you Stevie'. Instead he gets broad statements that he has slowly come to despise.

"Yeah, yeah, best babysitter ever" he mumbles and you giggle because even though he pretends to hate it you know how much he loves it. How much he loves those kids. If he didn't he wouldn't spend time with them. One of those very kids was his ex girlfriend’s brother and he never let any of those things stop him. He was always there for them.

"Only the best can handle six kids at a time" you tell him and Steve searches your eyes, loving how when you look at them they’re filled with adoration instead of hate. He knows not saying anything won't change your feelings and you will carry on loving him without it. He just couldn't bring himself to say it, the urge never there even though he was practically dying inside to tell you. He wished you knew how hard it is to say.

Sometimes when he finds himself even close he feels silly. I love you seemed too simple to portray the love he had for you. It was so basic, a word your heard on the radio over and over again. Every song as simple as the last. How unoriginal were his words when the radio repeats them every single day? Even with his love for Billy Joel he figures he'll never find a song to sing you. One that perfectly depicted exactly how he felt about you. He doesn't want to sing those tired words again, words he wasted on people who never loved him back.

“You ever think about having kids?” Steve asks, leaning back into the pillow and staring at his ceiling. You admire the soft tufts of his hair on his chest, the way his bicep flexes as he reaches to tuck his hand under his head. He’s so handsome and it should scare you that your boyfriend of only six months has suddenly asked you about having kids and yet you don’t seem to mind.

“All the time” you tell him earnestly, snuggling into his side and grazing your fingers along his sternum, grinning when he shivers from your touch.

“I want to have a whole bunch, make me feel better about being an only child” Steve says, his hand pressed to your back slowly sliding up and into your hair.

“What do you mean, make you feel better?” you ask, lifting your head to glance at the boys face as he continues to be deep in thought.

“I was a lonely kid, my parents never really cared to pay any attention and without any siblings or cousins I was left to my own devices. I think it’s half the reason I was such an asshole in high school” he says, almost wincing at the thought of how many people he had treated like shit over the years just to guarantee he wouldn’t be all alone.

“You were protecting yourself” you say, understanding exactly what he means and Steve nods, eyes glancing down at your form.

“I want my kids to have built in friends and even better, present parents” he tells you and suddenly you find yourself wanting nothing more than to have kids with the boy beside you.

“You’ll be the best Dad Steve, I just know it” you tell him and there are those words again, sitting on his tongue and begging to escape but he just can’t seem to let them go. He hates himself for it, looking away before you see the regret in his eyes.

“I hope so, I just wish my Grandpa was still around to see it” he says, thinking of the only person in his life who ever really liked him for him when he was growing up. The man who had heaven sent you straight to him when he needed you the most.

“He is, don’t you worry about that Stevie” you tell him, eyes fluttering close as you listen to cassette playing in the room. The boombox clicked, indicating the start of a new song. Worse Comes to Worst slowly filling the room.

“Oh worse comes to worst. I’ll get along” you start singing the melody into the dark night air, the fall breeze fluttering in from the window and brushing against the curtains.

“I don’t know how, but sometimes - I can be strong” Steve starts singing along with you and suddenly your both giggling into the night, sharing a love for one another and a love for Billy Joel. The very man that had brought you two together.

“Do you ever get sick of listening to him?” Steve asks and you know he’s asking you about Billy Joel. You shake your head softly against his chest, gazing into those hazel eyes.

“No, he reminds me of you. Makes me feel close to you no matter where I am. Yet I suppose that’s exactly how he makes you feel about your Grandpa” you say, voice humming along the boys ribs.

“Yeah but now he reminds me of you too” Steve admits and you smile before leaning up and capturing his lips in your own. When you had approached the sad boy in the record store you never would have imagined it would bring you here.

"I'm gonna try and sleep" you tell the boy, snuggling closer and allowing your heavy eyelids to close. Steve smiles softly and presses another kiss to your forehead. He knows life goes on and tonight will soon be gone. Another missed opportunity to tell you exactly how he feels. His wished he had the words to tell you but instead he only has his arms to hold you, pulling you closer into him. It's really all you can ask of any man, to be held with such love even if he won't say it.

"Goodnight Rosy" he mutters, 'I love you' he says in his head. He knows disappointment swells in your chest, having been by his side for six months and waiting to know exactly how he felt about you. The only noise in the dark room now is the voice of Billy Joel and your soft breathing. He pulls you close, relishing in the feeling of having you in his arms. When he’s sure you’re asleep he tells you.

"I love you Rosy, I really do. Just please don't give up on me, I promise I want to say it. You deserve to know just how much I adore you but every person I've ever loved has left me. I know you won't but I need time for my head to catch up with my heart. Until then, if I only had the words to tell you..."

Taglist: @slvtforstve @keerygal @goosy-goose @livsters @blckburd @loveshotzz @ohwauwdoritos @superblysubpar @southereads @amataadriana @violet2022 @mxrcjqckspnchqsc @madaboutjoe @thunderstomp-and-tequila @justdamnpeachy @micheledawn1975 @fangfatale @kingstevesgf @eddiesguitarskills @palmtreesx3 @momospeaches47 @pbs-theundeadmaggot @notlilyyyy @xuimhao @lianna75 @lvjmel @sadbitchfangirl @halflifejess @starkleila

Comment if you want to be added to the taglist :))

[show-your-fangs]

lil request of some jealous hotch maybe👉🏻👈🏻 i’m kinda picturing moments aaron getting all jealous and taking the matter in his own hands and teaching reader a lesson🫣😫

this is so fucking good, and coincidentally will be chapter 28 of moments 👀 (it involves a toy, a bed, and a few hours)

so instead please enjoy secret relationship hotch becoming jealous of his baby being hit on by some dude at a bar while the team is out, and then proceeding to finger her under the table

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x BAU!Reader

Words: 1.8k

CW: 18+, nsfw, mdni.

Tags/warnings: established secret relationship, jealous!hotch, possessiveness, pet names (baby, good girl), sir kink, groping, teasing, dirty talk, fingering (f receiving), exhibitionist kink, public sex, aaron basically fingers you in a booth in a bar.

Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.

Aaron had never been more thankful for the low light of Shaw’s, thankful that the shadows that lingered all around them obscuring his hot, red ears from the agents around him. He wasn’t embarrassed by any means, no, he was livid. 

They were all staring and snickering about you, leaning over the bar as you waited for the drinks they’d all made you go get just so that you’d be forced to talk to the cute guy that had been making eyes at you all night. 

When you’d told them that you hadn’t noticed, they all scoffed and rolled their eyes, telling you that was the reason you were still single. But none of them knew, they couldn’t have, that the reason why you hadn’t seen him staring was because you only cared about one man’s eyes on you – your boss's.

He was rendered completely useless, unable to do anything about him, unable to leap to his feet, stalk across the bar and make him stop talking to you, before swiftly dragging you to the bathroom and fucking you silly until the only thing you could think about was his cock. 

He knew you weren’t doing it maliciously. There wasn’t a single bad bone in your body. It wasn’t your fault that he found you attractive, wasn’t your fault that Emily was determined to get you laid, wasn’t your fault that you were making him so unbelievably jealous that he couldn’t think straight. 

He almost let out a sigh of relief when the bartender slid five drinks on the counter in front of you and you skillfully grabbed all of them in your hands before quickly making your way back to their table. 

“So?” Emily asked the second you put the drinks down, everyone reaching out to grab their glass and the scoop of your flirting.

You shook your head. “Eh, not for me.”

You slid in next to Aaron, uncharacteristically so, and yet it didn’t seem anyone noticed, still too focused on you to notice how Aaron’s body had relaxed beside you. 

“That’s not for you?” Emily shockingly pointed back at the blonde guy at the bar who was now engrossed in conversation with another beautiful woman. 

“Nope,” you simply stated, not giving her anything to continue prying. She scoffed then, unbelieving. 

“Can we go dance now?” Penelope whined again and Morgan immediately began pushing Emily out of the booth so they could get out. 

You took a sip of your drink as you watched them scurry towards the other side of the bar, hand in hand, but not before they dragged Emily and JJ along for the ride. It was just the six of you now, Spencer having left earlier in the night and Rossi not even entertaining the possibility of getting wasted with you on a perfectly fine Friday night. 

“Have fun,” you joked, Emily poking her tongue out at you and you returned the gesture. “Get her to relax a little and leave me alone, JJ!”

Aaron took a swing of the cold beer he’d been nursing since you got here an hour ago, trying to play it as cool as he could, disinterest being what would maintain your relationship private, until you were finally alone.  

He set the glass back down on the table before his hand came down on your thigh, slapping it slightly, the coldness of his hand mixing with the sting on his action. Your gaze snapped to his, shocked, scared, ashamed, while his remained dark, glossy, enraged.

He was jealous, so unbelievably jealous he couldn’t even hide it. Your breathing picked up, your heart practically rattling against your chest, your mouth going dry with anticipation.

“Just out of curiosity,” he whispered, slowly running his hand up towards your heat. “What is your type?”

You slumped back in your seat, back pressed tightly against the plush cushions of the booth, acutely aware of where you were and the fact that your closest friends were dancing just behind you. 

Thankfully you were hidden away, obscured, but there were still a lot of people around, a lot of bodies that could turn to you at any moment. 

“I asked you a question, baby,” he snapped, grip tightening unbelievably close to where you needed him. 

“You,” you swallowed thickly. “You, sir.”

The pockets of haziness, of blurred lines and dark corners were finally working to his advantage as he draped your left leg over his lap, opening you up under the table to gain easier access. 

You couldn’t help but dart your eyes around the room once more, desperate to make sure that no one could see you like this.

“Don’t look at them, look at me,” he commanded and you swiftly obeyed, turning your hazy eyes back on his, the fire burning in them almost mesmerizing, holding you hostage. His hand slid off your leg, swiftly cupping your crotch tightly. “This belongs to me,” he squeezed. “You belong to me,” your eyes were glossy with tears now. “No one gets to touch you, ever, no one gets to flirt with you, no one gets to so much as look at you, do I make myself clear?”

You whimpered pathetically, nodding your head feverishly, and yet it only made him squeeze harder, bordering on painful. Your brows furrowed, confusion at his continued roughness making a single tear fall down your cheek.  

“Apparently I wasn’t clear enough,” he spat, his fingers skillfully pulling your panties to the side. His cold fingers were immediately met with wet warmth, your clit practically on fire as he began to tease it, never touching it long enough for you to feel anything other than frustration.

“No, sir, please,” you sobbed, your hand wrapping around his wrist, but instead of trying to force him off you, you tried to get him to touch you where you wanted him.

“No?” he repeated, incredulous. “You’re not mine?”

His movements stilled then and yet you continued to grind yourself against his palm, against his fingers, against him. Whatever shame, whatever fears you had about getting caught, about someone seeing him touch you seemed to have evaporated as the desire to finally come undone took over.

“Such a greedy girl,” he groaned in your ear. “Even when you’ve been bad and I’m trying to punish you, you still have one thing on your mind.”

His other arm wrapped around your waist, his hand tightly gripping your left hip to pin you back down to the seat and keep you there, unable to move yourself where you desperately needed.

It was like a spell lifted then, your face immediately flushing crimson as you were reminded of where you were and just how exposed you truly were, even in the low light. Your head fell into the crook of his neck, face buried into his shirt in shame. 

Your shame only spurred him on, his movements picking up once more, his fingers running along the entirety of your slit, collecting your slick, making sure to never touch your entrance or clit.

“Next time a guy comes up to you, what are you going to say?” he asked, bitter, condescending, mean. 

You couldn’t breathe much less think about what you wanted to answer, too concerned by trying to act as normal as possible. 

He landed a slap against your clit then, perfectly timed with the music around you, the instrument solo drowning out the sharp sound. You moaned, quickly biting into his suit jacket to further muffle the lewd noises spilling out your mouth. 

He gave you a second to allow the shock to sharpen your senses, his fingers returning to their previous movements casually as he scanned the room, making sure you hadn’t drawn any attention to yourselves. 

“Next time a guy comes up to me,” you managed through ragged breaths, bravely lifting your head so your gaze could meet his. “I’ll tell him I’m not interested.”

“Next time some guy comes up to you,” he seethed in your ear, low and terrifying. “You’re going to tell them your boyfriend doesn’t like to share,” he emphasized his words by finally sinking his fingers into you, coaxing a whimper from your throat. “And they should probably leave you alone before he comes back.”

He curled his fingers upwards, hooking them against the spot deep inside you that always made you come undone in seconds.

“Yes, sir,” you smiled brightly, the fact that he’d called himself your boyfriend fully processing through your fucked out brain. 

“Good girl,” and with that he let loose, his fingers thrashing inside you, not even building up to his big finale by sliding them in and out of you first. 

You held his stare, your mouth opening for silent moans, for restrained whimpers, for jagged breathing. He didn’t stop, couldn’t stop as the song your teammates had all been dancing too was quickly coming to a close. 

Your hands wrapped around his shirt, bunching it up and wrinkling it. That’s how he knew you were close. His thumb returned to your clit, rubbing fast circles over it. Your walls began to clench around him, your hips began to sink themselves farther into his hand. 

“Cum, baby,” he whispered into your ear, soft yet commanding.

It all came at you too quickly, the tension in your body snapping sharply and out of nowhere. Wetness dripped out of you and onto his hand as your body shook against his steady frame. His grip around your waist tightened slightly, bringing your body against him to help keep you stable.

He looked back at his subordinates still twirling around to the final chorus of the song, distracted enough for him to chance it. He leaned forward and placed a delicate kiss to your temple, slowly retracting his fingers from you as he reached over to grab a napkin. 

Even in the low light, in the darkness, he could see his hand glisten with your slick and a proud smirk enveloped his lips. You were still curled against him as he did his best to clean you up, to get rid of any evidence of what the two of you had just done. 

He bunched the napkins up, swiftly pocketing them before he set you back down on the seat, a respectable distance away from him, and wiped your face clean of your runny mascara. Almost as if he’d timed it perfectly, four bodies approached your table. 

“Are you okay, sweetness?” Morgan asked you as they returned to the table, definitely noticing your flushed face.

You nodded, not daring to make eye contact as your heart continued to race, the aftershock of your orgasm still rocking through you.

“I think she’s had too much to drink,” Aaron told him, concerned softness lacing his words, like a boss taking care of his employees. “I’m gonna take her home.”

He didn’t even have to prompt you to follow before you were sliding off the booth, your legs barely keeping you up. He followed quickly after you, hooking his arm around your back before you could collapse, leaving your untouched drink on the table in front of them. 

idk what it is about these two but they really like going at it in public

tags: @canuck-eh, @ssamorganhotchner, @criminalskies, @xladyxdreamer

[river-of-wine]

I find Miss Grimshaw’s death to be one of the most interesting out of the characters that die in RDR2 because there is just so much going on with it. She begins chapter six shooting an innocent woman, doing what she believes is the right thing as the arbiter of justice she is described as. She shoots an innocent woman through the stomach for a perceived betrayal, and in doing so, she damns herself. Grimshaw ends the chapter being shot through the stomach by Micah, by the real traitor that she failed to recognise, for what was, in Dutch’s eyes, her own perceived betrayal. Molly confessed to ratting on the gang, something that she didn’t do but knew the consequences of, and Grimshaw, as her final action of the game, turns on Dutch, the man she has been loyal to for so many years, on the side of John and Arthur. Grimshaw’s death comes at such an interesting part in the story, such a climactic moment, and yet it is almost entirely unnoticed by everybody around her. In this huge moment, this standoff between what remains of the gang, the murder of one of its longest standing members just kind of happens, and then the standoff continues as Dutch gives a speech over the dying, agonised screams of a woman who has spent so many years loyally at his side, who has taken her first real stand against him, who has been murdered, who is now a traitor and not worth acknowledging. Grimshaw dies in pain, perhaps the most that we hear from a gang member’s death that we actually witness, though I’m sure Kieran’s torture at the hands of the O’Driscolls was even less pleasant. Grimshaw’s death is the death of what may have still remained of the gang, the security within it that she helped to provide, and her death is the justice that she failed to correctly serve returning to her, her failure to actually kill the traitor then killing her. She is shot through the stomach and dies in pain and the man she had been so loyal to simply does not care

[fuedalreesespieces]

Inuyasha & Demisexuality

i think halfway into writing this i thought about just cramming all my thoughts into a semi-coherent rant due to a combination of a.) lack of access to decent translations of the manga and b.) paranoia about over-analyzing scenes and coming off as delusional (i think by now it's probably too late to thwart that claim) buuut this headcanon in particular is near and dear to me so i want to try and get as in depth as possible.

what is demisexuality?

in simple terms, demisexuality is when an individual doesn't experience primary attraction - that is, the sort of attraction based on immediate observable (often physical) characteristics - and instead only experiences secondary attraction first: the type of attraction that forms after the development of a deep emotional bond.

inuyasha and kikyo

this aforementioned term perfectly describes inuyasha and his relationships with the only women he's ever loved romantically. you could make the claim that his inability to feel primary attraction first stems from his trust issues and not inherent sexual orientation. and to that, i would disagree - he and kikyo develop an emotional bond despite an unspoken lack of trust, which may have improved had naraku not meddled in their lives. still, both find solace in each other's similarities, loneliness, and "outlier" status (though the similarities are in isolation only, if i'm being completely honest) and establish a connection that persists post-revival.

inuyasha eventually did start to feel primary attraction to kikyo during their time together - in the second chapter of the manga, when he compares kagome to her, he states that kikyo "looked pretty."

[source - viz. i haven't been in this fandom long, but what i've gathered is that there are a lot of mis-translations of this manga, even from viz. since i have yet to buy physical copies of the manga and don't have an account for the site, i'm going to be using fan-scans for the rest of these, which hopefully won't really affect what i'm trying to convey since i'll be looking at character expressions rather than dialogue for most of them.]

i'd also note the order in which he lists those traits: kikyo looked intelligent and pretty. her intelligent appearance is the first part of her he remembers, which i think underscores his priorities in this regard. he values things like intelligence and companionship - facets that come to light when developing secondary attraction towards someone - more than aspects of primary attraction.

inuyasha and kagome

as mentioned before, demisexuals don't feel physical attraction before establishing a tight emotional bond. the most blatant examples i could think of this were any instances in which inuyasha sees kagome nude and his difference in reaction - in particular, during the yura of the hair and togenkyo arcs, which are roughly seventy-three chapters apart. there are two new moons in that time, and from that we can say at least two months have passed.

chapter six: yura of the hair

kagome's bathing below him, and i'm sorry, but this expression literally screams "zero fucks given." he does not care in the slightest. not a blush. not a spot of red on his cheeks. not a sweatdrop. not a tee-hee. if i were to describe what he's feeling in this moment i would say "extreme ire." when she uses the sit command on him, it's on the assumption that he's "peeking," but kaede understands that it's actually because inuyasha is trying to steal a shard of the shikon jewel.

"huh?" - he sounds genuinely confused that she reached that conclusion, even though he was quite literally peering over the cliff's edge in what obviously has very perverse connotations. it's almost like he doesn't understand why kagome would think his actions come from a place of sexual attraction because that sort of thing just isn't on his mind at all, and he doesn't get why it would be in the first place.

another extremely blatant example can be see in miroku's introductory chapter: chapter 51, the delinquent priest:

do i even have to say anything. this scene also further emphasizes my previous point - before, the only reason he was there was to try and steal kagome's jewel shard. if his true intentions had been driven by primary attraction, this would have been an opportune moment to "peep." in his words, however, he just isn't interested. note that he could have said something along the lines of "i wouldn't do something like that" (which, if he was attracted to her in that way from the start, wouldn't have done anyway) but specifically i'm not interested. the primary attraction is not there in the slightest. at least, not until:

chapter eighty two: fateful night in togenkyo

the scene i'm talking about needs no introduction, but for context: kagome's half-freaking out after having woken up in a sake bath. inuyasha breaks down the door to come and rescue her, accidentally seeing her naked in the process. well, i'm sure his reaction won't be that dif-

...it's only one panel-

okay, two-

i think at this point it's fairly obvious that primary attraction has developed. besides the fact that he's spent three panels trying not to look like he's having a quasi allergic reaction, it's been approximately two months since they've met, and by now they've definitely formed the deep emotional bond required for him to begin feeling any primary attraction at all. in fact, the chapter where he tells kagome "there's no replacement for you" - that chapter, where he's vulnerable and honest and opening up to her, strengthening their bond further, (ch. 78, a tender smell) is directly before the togenkyo arc begins, and, thus, just before these scenes occur. these chapters have all been building up secondary attraction, and now that primary attraction is just starting to show up.

several chapters later we have this iconic panel from 173:

this is such a look of awe, as though he's gazing up at a goddess. jaw dropped, eyes-wide, words trailing off awe. he's entranced. fully head-over-heels in love, feeling both primary and secondary attraction in regards to kagome, and this trend only continues throughout the entirety of the manga.

conclusion + extra thoughts

my belief in this headcanon comes from not just the evidence depicted above, but because i just related a ton reading those scenes. i found myself just nodding along (as someone who's demisexual themselves!) plus, since ace-spectrum representation is so rare, it's nice to see it reflected in a character whose story and relationships i love dearly.

tags: @nightshade-lullaby

[imagines--galore]

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

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

Pairing: Zuko x OroraOC (ATLA)

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

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

A/N: ............this got away from me.........btw I expect reactions from each and every one of you.

Orora was the first one awake.

The sun was barely peeking over the horizon, the sky was only just changing color. And yet, she didn't think she could go back to sleep. Rubbing away the tiredness in her eyes, the young waterbender yawned as she stood up. Stretching her arms above her hand, she rubbed the back of her neck as she looked around at her still sleeping friends.

Aang was still asleep. Thank the Spirits. She smiled at the snoring boy, before moving to put away her bed roll. Making sure she didn't wake anyone, Orora picked up her pack and walked off, enjoying the cool morning air as it caressed her face. She could hear birds as they began to leave their nests for food. The occasional sound of a koala sheep somewhere around the island would break the silence, but nothing else.

Everything was calm.

A blessing since today was the day.

The day of the Solar Eclipse.

The day the Fire Nation would be finally defeated after a hundred years of war.

Or so she hoped.

Shaking her head to get rid of those thoughts for now, she instead focused on the stream she had visited a day or so ago. Quickly dropping the pack she had brought, the waterbender stripped and walked into the water. Allowing the water to carry her, she waded on her back, her eyes on the ever-changing sky above her, her dark brown hair framing her face. The last of the stars were disappearing as the sun's light dimmed their brightness.

She sighed.

"Why do you keep doing that?" She asked the seemingly empty air. There was a beat of silence before his voice called out.

"Doing what?" She didn't move from her afloat position, eyes towards the sky. "Appearing suddenly. I don't have anything to say to you so whats your purpose here?" Though her initial reaction had been a mixture of confusing emotions at seeing him, truthfully, she was getting a little annoyed at not figuring out the reason behind it.

"Don't you?" His voice came again. Orora closed her eyes, letting out an annoyed sound, frowning. "No." She stated firmly.

"Not even about what could happen today?" His voice was soft, almost as if he were pleading her to tell him. Her eyes were still closed, but she could imagine the expression on his face. "You mean what would happen when we defeat the Fire Nation and would have to defeat you and your whole family?"

The water rippled as she finally straightened, looking directly at him where he sat at the bank. "Or are you talking about the part where you would be in ch-chains?" Her voice hitched at the last word.

And she hated herself for it.

Despite what he had done to betray her, she still had feelings for him. Feelings she had tried very hard to ignore, and had pushed to the furthest reaches of her mind because, who had time to deal with them.

Not the healthiest way to go about things, but who cared?!

She allowed her fingers to gently skim the water, creating small ripples on the surface as she did. "I don't think I'll be able to cope with that." The girl finally confessed, her heart aching in her chest as she glanced at her string which began to emit a soft reddish hue.

Movement along the bank had her looking up to see Zuko standing with his hand above his heart. His expression was earnest and there was a strange gleam in his eyes. Almost one of determination, if she read it right. "I promise." He said, his voice solemn. "It won't come to that."

She blinked, and he was gone, leaving her standing in the water feeling like an utter idiot. Of course he would say that. The Zuko before her had been a projection of what she wanted him to be, and how she wanted to be reassured. Just her mind trying to make sense of the feelings she had for him. Orora still couldn't decide what they were, so best to leave them untouched.

Though having him appear in Fire Nation clothes, with his hair a lot longer then it had been in Ba Sing Se, was something new since she had never seen him in either before.

The sky was brighter by the time she finally stepped out of the water. Using her waterbending to dry herself off, including her hair, the girl turned her attention to the pack.

Time to show the world what her roots were.

First she made sure her under garments were secure around her chest and hips. She had to make new ones since she had felt a little constricted in the ones she had before. Probably a growth spurt, she mused to herself as she tied the chest binds behind her back. Once done, she pulled on the pants she had sewn. They were made of a dark grey slightly stretchy material that settled against her like a second skin. Next she turned to the new shirt she had been working on the past two days.

Rather then a light blue like Katara had chosen to wear, Orora had gone for a blue that was much darker in color. Almost as dark as the ones the Water Tribe Warriors wore when they dressed up for battle. The style was similar to Katara's with barely any sleeves, long in the front and back as well as split at the side to allow better leg movement. A light blue decorated the border of the entire shirt and the measurements had been accurate enough that it showed off her slightly curvy muscled figure while also allowing her room to move.

The one thing she had added, was a white patch in the shape of a full moon, with a crescent outlined within, just above her heart. A nod to the Moon Spirit who had guided her in her time of need. Next Orora pulled on the fingerless leather gloves she had bought, making sure they were snug and fit against her skin. They were the same color as her pants, bringing the whole outfit together nicely. Quickly pulling on her shoes, the ones she'd been using since she was sure she could bend through them, Orora created a mirror of ice to see her reflection. The entire outfit reminded her of the one she had first worn in Ba Sing Se. With a few tweaks thrown in here and there.

Picking up her comb, she quickly ran it through her hair. Now that her hair was long enough, it was easy to pull it up into a ponytail, tying it with a blue ribbon. But not before a simple swipe of her bending had some of the hair covering her forehead floating to the ground, allowing her to swipe her hair to the sides. They were shorter, meaning they couldn't be tucked into her ponytail, so they framed her face instead, allowing her features to appear much softer then they were. The white patch was parted now since it rested almost in the center of her forehead, so the majority of the hair on one side was white while the other side was a mixture of white and brown.

Satisfied with her appearance, she picked up the Fire Nation clothes she'd been wearing and bundled them up. With one final glance at her reflection, she bended the water back into the river, and walked back to camp.

                                          ————————–

It didn't take long for everyone, minus Aang, to wake up and go about changing their own clothes. Seems she wasn't the only one with the idea of fighting in the colors of her nation. Sokka and Katara had quickly changed into their Water Tribe blues, while Toph was eager to get back into her Earth Kingdom clothes.

While Toph sat around, and Katara handed her brother something to drink whilst he poured over maps, once again, Orora made sure she had the straps of her water skins wrapped tightly around her chest. She would be wearing them similar to Katara's, but there was a certain accessory she would be adding, but not until a little later.

There was a certain nervousness around their small camp. With everyone lost in their own thoughts, thinking of what was to come in the next few hours. Her blue gaze drifted towards the sky where the sun was shining.

"Top of the morning, Momo!" Aang's sudden voice had everyone's attention turning to the young Avatar. Orora smiled, seeing him well-rested and back to his old cheerful self. The kid had deserved that good night's sleep.

"Sounds like you slept well." Katara commented, a hand on her hip and a smile on her lips

Aang nodded, moving his hand aside in a sweeping motion. "Like a baby moose lion." He stated before assuming a fighting stance and raised his fists in the air. "I'm ready to face the Fire Lord." He called out in an exuberant tone.

Toph smiled. "So, what's your strategy for taking him down?" She raised her hands to her eyes and wiggled them around. "Gonna get your glow on and hit him with a little Avatar State action?" She ended with a punch in the air. No sooner had her statement finished when Aang's shoulders dropped and he sighed.

"I can't." He said, his voice heavy with regret and sorrow. "When Azula shot me with lightning, my seventh chakra was locked, cutting off my connection to all the cosmic energy in the universe." Orora rose from her place to place a comforting hand on his shoulder, which he accepted with a small smile.

"You know what I just heard?" Toph asked with a roll of her eyes. "Blah, blah, spiritual mumbo jumbo blah, blah, something about space." Orora frowned at the younger girl before turning her attention to Aang.

"Well maybe the Eclipse will give us enough of an advantage that you won't need the Avatar State." She suggested, to which Aang gave a grateful smile, glad to have someone ease his worries a bit.

From the corner of her eyes, Katara caught sight of a thick fog coming their way. "Oh, no." She said softly, her forehead creased in concern. "Sokka? Do you think the fog will delay the invasion?" She asked her brother who was standing up and moving to investigate said fog.

"No." He exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. "That is the invasion!"

The words were barely out of his mouth when all five children were racing down to the shoreline where the ships would be docking. Aang and Toph quickly bended several raised columns from beneath the water to form a makeshift dock for the ships to anchor. As she watched the ships dock one by one, Orora couldn't help but feel excited about all the people she would be meeting.

Sokka had told her about the plan in detail during their time after Ba Sing Se, when Aang had been unconscious. She had even added in her opinion, which he had greatly appreciated.

And now all those months of waiting and planning were coming down to this one moment.

The ships docked and people began to disembark. There were several faces she recognized, some of them standing out more then others, mostly those who had traveled with them after Ba Sing Se.

Katara and Sokka, catching sight of their father, hurried towards him with the other three following.

"You made it, Dad!" Katara exclaimed, embracing her father while Sokka grinned at him. "Were you able to locate everyone I told you to find?" He asked, eager to know.

Hakoda nodded. "I did." Behind him two men in strange leaf clothing stepped off the ship. "But I'm a little worried, Sokka. Some of these men aren't exactly the 'warrior type'." He stated looking back at the disembarking people. Orora pushed herself on her tiptoes to glance over his shoulder to see who he was referring to.

"Oooh-whee!" One of them said, swinging his arm around. "This place ain't nothing like a swamp." He stated before instantly pointing at a rock protruding out of the water. "What you reckon that is, Tho? Some sort of Fire Nation exploding trap what eat ya?" His words had Orora questioning Sokka's decision on calling upon old friends for help.

What kind of people had they run into before she had joined them?

Then again, they did have a run in with a man who could shoot fire from his mind while she was in the group, so they looked tamer compared to him.

"It's just a rock, Due." The man's companion responded to which his friend scratched his head, grinning. "Well, I'll be." He stated. Orora pursed her lips glancing at Sokka who looked positively delighted at the prospect of people actually coming.

Hakoda shook his head. "Is it just me, or are those fellas a little loose in the leaf-hat?" Orora grinned. "Maybe that's why Sokka asked you to bring 'em. So he would pass off as normal compared to them." Aang, Toph and Katara laughed while Sokka glared at Orora, a vein popping in his forehead. Hakoda shook his head, smiling as he held his arm out.

"Its good to see you still humbling my son, Orora." He said with a warm fatherly look in his eyes, one that had the young girl beaming as she took his offered arm in a warrior grasp. "Glad to have you with us, Chief Hakoda." She said, just as Bato stopped beside them, glancing at another who had stepped off the boat.

"I just wish they would wear pants." Was his only complaint to which Orora and Katara glanced at one another and then towards the figure who was wearing only leaves to cover his.........front. Sokka didn't seem to notice the looks his father, Bato, Orora and Katara were giving one another.

"Well come on! Lets get you all ashore!" Aang exclaimed, already leading the way to the shoreline where people from the rest of the ships were gathering.

It seemed Sokka had asked his father to travel all over the Earth Kingdom to gather as many of their allies as possible. It was strange seeing so many people of two different nations together. Blues and greens mixing into one.

Orora found herself being introduced to the Foggy Swamp members. She'd heard about all of them before, the others having told her all about their adventures, but now she could actually put faces to their names.

She was speaking to the pant-less Huu when she heard her name being called. Excusing herself, the girl quickly walked towards where Aang and Katara were standing next to several people from the Earth Kingdom. "Orora you remember when Katara helped bust people out of prison?" Aang asked, looking proudly at his soulmate, who blushed. Orora smiled, crossing her arms over her chest. "Yes, I remember it rather vaguely." She jested, to which Aang rolled his eyes at her playfully.

"Well, this is Haru and that's his dad Tyro!" He said, gesturing to a boy who couldn't be that much older then her and an older man who was clearly his father. "A lot of earthbenders from their village came to help." She turned to smile at the two of them.

"Well I hope they're inspired enough today to help us defeat the Fire Nation." The waterbender said to which Haru nodded with a determined look on his face. "We've faced many desolate and hopeless situations alone, so one where we fight beside our allies and friends is sure to inspire us." He responded, to which Orora grinned and held out her hand for him to shake.

"Welcome aboard! Hope you have fun kicking Fire Nation butt today." They'd barely shaken hands when she felt her other hand being taken by someone.

Orora recognized the smaller hand before she even looked. Turning to Toph who was trying to pull her away, Orora smiled apologetically at Haru and his father. "I'll see you later then!" With that she allowed Toph to pull her away, leaving behind a smiling Haru, with his father nudging his shoulder and smiling teasingly at him.

"What is it Toph?" Orora asked, unable to decipher the distress the younger girl seemed to be exhibiting as they both stood a little ways away from the rest of the group.

Toph took a deep breath before she held up her left hand, pinky out. "I felt the tug."

No sooner had the words left her mouth when Orora gasped loudly and turned around to look at the various people milling about. "When did you feel it? Where were you? Who were you with?" Her eyes went from one face to the other, trying to see if she could somehow guess who it was.

"I felt the tug from the last ship." Toph said, pointing in the general vicinity of the ship. Orora squinted to see Sokka standing there speaking to several people. Two of whom she had never seen before, and yet the other two.

"Its The Duke and Pipsqueak." She muttered softly to which Toph nodded. "So is it one of them?" Orora asked when the girl remained. Toph shrugged in response, to which the older girl sighed. Even though she couldn't see her, Orora still dropped down to crouch before the younger girl, a hand on her shoulder.

"Whats wrong Toph? Why are you so hesitant about this? You know who it is don't you?" A moment of silence before Toph nodded. "And you can't tell him because......" She trailed off, allowing the younger girl the time she needed to explain her reasoning.

Toph licked her lips, before closing her eyes. "Because......I'm scared." Since the day she had known her, Orora had never heard fear in Toph's voice. Really the younger girl appeared almost fearless with how she faced the world. But now? She even sounded scared.

"Why would you be scared of knowing who he is?" The older girl asked her voice soft and kind. Toph reached out to place a hand on Orora's cheek, almost as if she were reassuring herself that the other girl was there.

"Because of what happened to you." Orora's heart plummeted in her chest. "You were so broken after what Zuko did to you, and he did it even though there was nothing wrong with you. Who would want a soulmate who's blind?!"

Orora bit her lower lip, understanding flashing in her blue eyes. "So you're afraid he would reject you, because you're blind." Toph didn't even nod, instead the hand against her cheek only tensed. Orora sighed.

"You know when I met Zuko, I was determined that I would never accept him as my soulmate, because he was from the Fire Nation." She hadn't really revealed the more intimate details of her feelings for the Fire Nation Prince, but mostly because she was confused herself. But to ease Toph's worries, she would gladly sift through her messy, tangled emotions. "And while he accepted that as a reason, he also thought I wouldn't accept him because of the scar on his face."

Toph frowned to which Orora explained further. "He has an ugly scar from where his father burned him. His entire left side is burned off." She shifted Toph's hand on her cheek so the girl could determine where the scar was. "He told me how the scar was ugly and that no one would accept him because of it." She paused, sighing wistfully as she smiled softly. "Truthfully? The scar was the least of my concerns. My main concern was trying not to have feelings for him though I failed at that front. Quite epically."

Finally, Toph cracked a smile. Taking both of her hands in her own, Orora continued to smile at Toph. "What I'm saying Toph, is that I had feelings for him despite the scar because of the person he was. That's how soulmates work. To them you are the most beautiful person in the world. And you are, on the outside and the inside."

Toph's unseeing eyes were swimming with tears as she sniffled. Orora couldn't help herself as she gathered the younger girl in her arms and just hugged her tight. "Thanks Orora." The girl said, her voice slightly muffled before she finally stepped away wiping the remnant of her tears.

Standing up straight the older girl patted her shoulder. "Just be yourself, and I'm sure he will worship the ground you walk on." Toph grinned, her old spark returning as her head and shoulders lifted. "I like the sound of that." She hummed as the two of them began to walk back to the assembled crowd.

"Well, you know what they say, 'Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder.'"

"Really? Eye jokes in front of a blind girl?"

"Oh please since when have you found them offensive."

"Since now."

"Then the next one will be an eye-opener for you."

Thwack!

"Ow! Easy with the punches Toph!"

"But that's how I show affection Ice Princess."

"I think I prefer the hugs."

                                          ————————–

Phase One of the Invasion Plan was about to commence.

The speeches were made, the plans were explained, every detail was spelled out for all of them and leaders were appointed. There had been a little hiccup, when Sokka had began to explain the plan from the very beginning.

Literally the beginning.

But his father had stepped in to help out and now it was Battle Stations.

Orora stood beside Katara who was filling water into her water skins. She'd done that just a few minutes ago and was now creating several ice daggers to hang from the belt around her waist. She also created an intricate looking hair pin with the Water Tribe emblem within which she secured in her hair, just above her ponytail. Every aspect of her outfit was chosen to help her in the upcoming battle.

She would rather face some horrifying spirit rather then be defenseless and at the mercy of the Fire Nation.

The older girl glanced at Katara who was just finishing up with her water skins. The other girl met her gaze and gave a small smile. But that wasn't enough for Orora. Not after all that they had been through together. Katara seemed to have the same idea because the moment Orora stepped forward, the younger girl was meeting her halfway in an embrace that was just as affectionate as it was desperate.

No words were spoken, and really no words were needed. The two girls understood one another on a level that even sisters couldn't hope to achieve. Even though not a drop of blood was shared between them, Katara and Orora knew that the bond they shared ran deep.

"Stay safe out there." Katara urged, to which Orora gave a nod.

"You too. Watch your back." With that the two sisters walked back to the shoreline where everyone was beginning to assemble waiting for their next orders.

As Katara walked off to her father's side, Orora spotted Sokka and Aang returning. With Aang looking like his old self. She smiled at the younger boy who stopped before her while Sokka walked by, probably to speak to his father some more.

"Look at you. How does the head feel?" She asked, playfully rubbing the top of his newly shaved head to which he laughed. "Feels great! I feel like myself again." He admitted. "And thanks for the robe, I know it wasn't easy to make since it was burnt in places." Orora shook her head. "Katara came up with the idea and the design, so really you should be thanking her."

They both turned to look at the girl in question who was busy listening to what her father was saying. "You know, we might run into Zuko today."

Her heart jumped in her throat, her stomach roiled and her muscles tensed. Though on the outside she simply pursed her lips and nodded. "I realized we would, and I have made peace with that and accepted the fact that we might have to fight him today." Though she hoped it wouldn't come to that. This time it was Aang who took her hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. "That is wise of you Orora, but don't think of your feelings for him as a weakness. Maybe he feels just as trapped as you. I mean, you did say he told you his string glowed as well didn't it? So that means he had feelings for you, and still does." He gave her an encouraging look. "Maybe those feelings will help him make a good decision."

Though his words were meant to give her some semblance of hope, Orora didn't have the heart to tell the boy how they only made her feel even sadder. Still she smiled at him as best as she could and nodded. "We can just hope things go well today. You're lucky your soulmate is fighting on the same side as you."

Aang nodded, though he didn't look very happy about that. "Yeah, lucky." He parroted in a strangely dismal tone that had Orora frowning at him. There was a brief beat of silence before the older girl spoke.

"You know you're always giving other people advice. I think it's high time you get some too." He turned to look at her curiously. The waterbender smiled gently at him. "Ever since I've known you Aang, you've always put the world before yourself. Even in Ba Sing Se, you were willing to give up your feelings for Katara to save her. But maybe, for once, why don't you try putting yourself first and just act on how you feel."

As she spoke the last few words, her gaze shifted towards Katara and Aang followed her line of sight.

The boy was silent for a few brief seconds before he finally nodded. Orora beamed at him before patting his shoulder. "It will all work out. I promise."

As they began to walk back to the others, Aang glanced off in the distance. "You know, I just realized, the others have been to Air Temples before but you and Toph haven't. Maybe after all this is over, I'll take you to the Western Air Temple. Its nearby and its really cool." Orora smiled at his plan and could only nod in confirmation.

"I'll hold you to that promise then."

                                          ————————–

At the Fire Nation Palace, everyone was starting to move out and into their secret hideouts. The Capital was getting quieter by the second and the Palace was emptying every minute.

However, Zuko made no move to follow everyone else as they took their places in their assigned bunker or whatever hiding place they had.

It didn't matter to him.

Nothing did now.

Other then what he had decided.

He removed his head piece and armor, putting it aside to reveal the clothes he was wearing underneath. Once done, he moved to sit down in front of his writing table and began to pen a letter he would be leaving behind for Mai, explaining to her what he was doing and why.

She deserved to know.

She was, after all, the only person who had supported him and listened to him during his time back here.

But now, it was time for him to move forward and do what he had been born to do.

The glow of his string was his only companion, making him feel a little less alone.

                                          ————————–

The fleet of ships were well on their way towards the Great Gates of Azulon. Orora stood on the deck of one of the ships. Every waterbender they had was divided amongst the ships, putting her on the second one with many of the Earthbenders.

A signal from the main ship had her nodding. "Fog cover." She called out, already dropping in the required stance, her arms moving in a fluid motion as she and the rest of the swamp benders helped create a thick fog that would cover them for the time being.

Though the moment was short lived.

A loud bell began to ring and in front of them, where the statue of Azulon was, rose a huge net from the water. And it was on fire. Her eyes widened at the sight, but Hakoda's command to get below deck was quickly heard over the commotion of the approaching patrol boats.

Orora followed after her retreating comrades, and to the submarine that was attached to the bottom of the ship. She slid down the ladder, her feet thumping against the metal floor of Sokka's invention as she took up her place with the rest of the swamp benders.

As soon as Tyro gave her the signal, each of them began to do a push and pull motion, allowing the submarine to begin swimming through the water. Out of the window beside her, she could see the other submarines as well.

"Seems your plan worked Sokka." She commented to herself, smiling as she did.

Phase One was complete.

                                          ————————–

The door to his cell opened, and when he saw who it was, Iroh couldn't help but smile.

"Lunchtime, General Iroh." Ming called, her tone respectful and soft, as opposed to all the other wardens. She knelt down in front of his cell and whispered. "And this time, I brought you an extra bowl of rice."

Iroh smiled. "Thank you, Ming. Your little gestures of kindness have made my days in prison bearable. He hummed to himself. "I think you should take the rest of the day off."

"What?" Confusion colored her tone as she frowned softly.

"You don't look well." Iroh insisted. "Maybe you should go home and rest. "

Ming shook her head, shrugging. "No, I feel fine."

"Trust me." He said, his voice soft and grave. "It is better that you are not here this afternoon." A beat of silence where Ming stared at him before a look of understanding passed over her features. She nodded before straightening up and walking out, leaving Iroh to his thoughts. He had already allowed one young girl to be hurt while under his watchful eye, and he would not see it happen again.

His heart ached to think of his young former pupil. So full of life and optimism.

Iroh could only hope his nephew would finally come to his senses and do the right thing.

                                          ————————–

The only downside of the submarine was the limited amount of air within. Which was why they had to resurface pretty quickly. And a good thing too, because some people had gotten a little motion sickness and had barely managed to hold everything in.

Quickly waterbending from one submarine to the next, Orora handed out some medicinal leaves for those who were ailing to chew on. She'd spent a majority of her money on buying different herbal leaves, roots and flowers that she knew would come in handy on the day of the Invasion. She'd built her small apothecary and had sewn a few hidden pockets in her dress to hide them in small paper packets.

"You're a life saver Orora." Haru said as she handed his father as well as other earthbenders some leaves. She only smiled in response, before quickly jumping to the submarine where Katara, Sokka and Toph were waiting for her.

"Chew on these." The girl ordered Toph, who looked more then a little green, all but shoving the bitter tasting leaves into her mouth. Though the earthbender made a disgusted sound she obediently did as Orora asked, and felt better almost instantly.

Aang, who had been guiding Appa underwater, landed near them. "So, this is it huh?" He said, his voice soft as his friends approached him. Sokka grinned. "Are you ready for the Fire Nation to know the Avatar is alive?"

Aang nodded without hesitation, a look of determination on his face. "I'm ready." Though the two boys moved in for a handshake, it quickly became a group hug as they all wrapped their arms around one another, holding their little family close.

"I hope you kick some serious Fire Lord butt, Twinkle Toes." Toph said, prompting the rest of them to laugh a little at her statement, easing the tension they all felt. Orora smiled at all of them, wrapping an arm around Sokka's shoulder, who mirrored her act, as Hakoda called to everyone.

"Everyone listen up. The next time we resurface, it'll be on the beaches. So stay alert, and fight smart. Now break time's over, back in the subs." Nodding at Orora, Sokka and Toph quickly followed after Hakoda disappearing into the Sub, along with Momo. Orora waterbended herself back to her Sub just as Haru and his father were beginning their descent.

She waited for them to disappear before she began to climb in. Orora paused as she reached back to grab the lid of the Sub, her eyes landing on the two figures that were still standing there.

Aang and Katara.

With Aang stepping away from his soulmate after kissing her.

Smiling to herself, the young waterbender closed the lid tightly, walking back to her previous station.

                                          ————————–

With every graceful yet powerful motion of her arms, as well as those of the swamp benders, they were getting closer and closer to the main shoreline of the Fire Nation capital. Orora would be lying if she said she wasn't nervous, but her nervousness was pushed aside in favor of determination and a sense of purpose.

This was what she had been training to for for more then half a year now.

And she was about to show the Fire Nation just how far she had come from the helpless girl she had been during her first encounter with them.

She would stand beside her family, friends and allies and fight to end the tyranny of the Fire Nation once and for all.

Through the water and metal wall around her, alarm bells began to sound, and she knew they had arrived.

Her sharp eyes caught the telltale sign of a harpoon from the window as it flew through the water from where it was fired from the surface. One of them skimmed by dangerously close to their Sub.

"Veer to the left!" She ordered, moving her arms in a certain motion that would push the Sub a little off course. The swamp benders followed her order.

"Orora! We need you upfront!" Haru's voice called from the front. She left her post, racing towards the small area where two earthbenders were loading a torpedo covered in ice.

As soon as it was in, and once she had the signal, Orora thrust her arms forward with all her strength, pushing the torpedo out into the water. There was a muffled bang which had the Sub lurching slightly, before things quietened down again.

"Swamp benders! To your positions now!" Orora called over the clamor of the earthbenders as they readied their tanks and other manners of vehicles.

Orora took up her position at the front of the swamp benders, just behind the line of earthbenders. She stood beside them, her water skins opening to allow her arms to be coated in water.

She waited in position for the Subs to rise from the water.

She waited with baited breath as the Subs opened and the sounds and smell of the battle hit her senses.

She allowed her instincts to take over as she raced out of the Sub, her battle cry merging with those of her fellow comrades as they faced the Fire Nation head on.

Sokka had told her that her primary target would be to take out as many tanks and other weapons of destruction with her water bending.

And that is exactly what she did.

The moment she stepped on solid ground, her cold calculated eyes zeroed in on a nearing tank. With a shout she threw her arm forward, allowing a part of the water she had to break away in the form of a sharp ice spear and hit the wheels of the tank. The spear jammed in the mechanism, toppling the tank over given the speed it was coming at, and rendering it useless.

Orora didn't even waited. She moved on.

There were several Fire Nation soldiers in front of her, and she wasted no time in taking them out. Allowing a ring of water to arch through the air, it sent the group of soldiers flying in different directions. Several of them were knocked unconscious after hitting the walls while others regained their footing and charged her.

Orora wasted no time.

She all but danced out of their way as they tried to land a hit with their firebending. Bringing up a wall of ice, the girl quickly propelled herself to the top of it, taking the soldiers on the other side completely by surprise. She landed on one's head, knocking him out, while the other she took out with a roundhouse kick, sending him flying. Another one was brought down with an ice punch to the face, while the one left didn't even put up a fight. Instead she raced off with a terrified scream.

Orora smirked to herself.

"Nice moves, Ice Princess!" Toph complimented as she came to a stop near her. "How about we show them a little Earth on Water action?" The bling girl suggested, prompting the older girl to drop in a stance as a new wave of tanks and war vehicles neared them with the battlements raining havoc from above.

Toph created a disc of earth, allowing it to rise from the ground a little to create a platform. Pressing her hand to the center of the platform, the older girl created spikes made of ice protrude all along the smooth surface of the pillar. With her hand on Toph's shoulder, she guided the girl where to launch the spiked discs. Once they launched, they would find their mark, and had barely allowed the Fire Nation soldiers around the to recover, when Orora would make a dismissive hand gesture and the ice spikes would go flying in every direction of the enemy. One after another found its mark, until nearly all their targets were taken out. Most of them being battlements. The ones left were being destroyed by Sokka, Katara and Hakoda.

"Stay safe!" Orora called to Toph who raced away to join her fellow earthbenders. Seeing several of the tanks overwhelming her fellow water tribe members, Orora quickly moved to take action.

Racing to get a little closer to the water, she threw her arms forward, pulling up twin strips of water. Her arms shook from the effort and sweat lined her forehead, but she circled her arms above her head, before spreading her arms wide, creating spikes at the end of her water whips.

"Take cover!" She shouted at her sister tribe. They barely had time to duck behind their shields before Orora's arms circled in the air, the water whips following her command the spikes at the end penetrating the metal surface of the tanks. Most of them stopped, the sharp edges catching important wires and rendering themselves useless. The few that were left running, were quickly knocked over by another swipe of her water whips, though this time she didn't use and spikes at the end.

"Is everyone alright?" She asked, racing towards Bato who had been a part of the group she had just helped. The older man smiled and nodded, clapping her on the shoulder. "That was some powerful waterbending Orora." He praised to which the girl simply shrugged, a pleased smile on her face.

"Well practice makes perfect, doesn't it?"

Suddenly the sound of Appa's groaning had her looking up just in time to see the bison land behind a wall to take shelter. Something was wrong, she felt it in her gut.

Throwing her arm out to create a shield lest one of the Fire Nation soldiers manage to hit her with their fireball, she raced across the battlement to where Appa had landed, dread filling her stomach as she went.

                                          ————————–

In the silence of the Palace, Zuko knelt before a painting of his mother.

"I know I've made some bad choices." He said, his voice soft and full of remorse. "But today, I'm gonna set things right." He promised before he rose to his feet. Picking up his swords, he covered his head with the hood of his robe. With one final glance at his mother's face, he left.

                                          ————————–

"What happened?" Orora asked as she came to a halt on her knees where she had skidded across the ground to reach the small family. Katara was working on healing her father, both children looking extremely distraught.

"He's hurt. Bad." Katara said, pulling her hands away to allow Orora to take a look since the older girl had more experience with healing. Her eyes quickly assessed the wound, her hand already flying to her pocket where she knew she would find the herb she would need. Good thing she'd already blended it into a paste before.

Using a small bubble of water, she allowed the paste to mix with the clear liquid, turning its color a murky green. The water settled over the wound as she pressed her hands atop it. Hakoda grunted in pain briefly before his entire body relaxed and his breathing evened out.

"That should stop the bleeding, but he'll need a couple more minutes of healing." She said just as an explosion sounded from beyond the wall they had taken refuge behind. Orora winced, glancing in the direction of the battle.

"I'll stay with Dad, go with Sokka." Katara urged, already moving to heal her Father some more. As Sokka moved to climb atop Appa, Orora made to follow. But stopped when Hakoda called out to her.

He was looking at her with a gentle smile. "Keep your brother from doing anything stupid." A swell of pride and a mixture of emotions rose within her. But now was not the time to act on them. With a firm nod, she jumped onto Appa beside Sokka and the three of them flew off.

As Appa landed, he took out a tank by himself, shoving it aside with a mighty roar. Sokka and Orora slid down, with the former taking charge. "Listen up, everyone. I want the tanks in wedge formation. Warriors and benders in the middle. We're taking that tower, and heading for the royal palace."

Quickly finding her place, Orora found herself standing beside Haru. "Fancy meeting you here." She said in a joking tone, to which he grinned back at her. "You know you don't usually find pretty girls on the battle ground." As she pulled out a stream of water from her other water skin, the girl shrugged. "Probably because Katara is helping her Dad out." She responded. From her other side, Toph let out a disgusted sound. "Blegh! Flirt in your own time Ice Princess. We got a Tower to take over."

Orora rolled her eyes. "Its called making conversation Toph." She said as she nonchalantly created several small icicle daggers, nestling them between her fingers as she prepared to attack, waiting for Sokka's signal.

"Charge!"

With a huge battle cry, the army moved forward.

                                          ————————–

They had taken the Tower.

Phase Two was complete.

Their tanks had formed a protective barrier around them with the earthbenders fending off any aerial attacks of fireballs. Orora had moved on to the second part of her duties.

Healing the wounded.

So far she had healed burns from explosions and firebending, quickly and efficiently sewn up split skin, mended a broken arm, and pushed a dislocated leg back into it's joint. Not to mention the amount of healing she had done using her waterbending abilities and the numbing salve she had passed around to anyone experiencing pain above a normal level.

With Katara busy working on her father, every task fell to Orora. But she made no complaint. The young waterbender shouldered the burden as she healed and did her duty. After nearly an hour and a half, the wounded were tended to and back in fighting shape. Orora slumped back against one of the tanks, tired and drained.

Behind her the air exploded with the sound of another attack and she winced at the loud noise.

A water skin appeared at her side, with Toph attached to the other end. "Drink up!" The girl urged. Thanking the young girl, Orora all but drained the contents of the water skin, her body gaining strength with each gulp of cool fresh water.

"Come on! Sokka wants to go over the next part of the plan with us." Toph said, reaching out to help the older girl up. Orora made no protest as she followed the girl, just as Hakoda and Katara appeared with the former leaning heavily on the latter.

"Dad!" Sokka called out and approaching the both of them. "You're on your feet again."

Hakoda nodded, though Orora could see he was still very weak. "Thanks to your sister and Orora. I'm in no shape to fight, but maybe there's some way I can help." He said, not wanting to sit by and do nothing.

"Heads up!" A voice called as a fireball flew their way.

Immediately Katara and Orora stepped forward, swinging their arms towards the sky, the two sent twin bubbles of water in the direction of the fireball, freezing it midway.

Katara stood with her hands cupped in front of her, towards which Orora took a running start. The younger girl boosted Orora up into the air, allowing her to fly upwards where she threw her leg out in an arc, swiping it across the approaching frozen fireball and disintegrating it into a thousand harmful blunt ice crystals. She landed on the ground in a crouch.

"See? Told you it would come in handy." Katara stated with a smug smile at Orora, who rolled her eyes playfully. "When did you two practice that?" Sokka demanded to know. Katara raised an eyebrow at her brother. "What did you think we did when we went swimming? Splash around the water?" The other girl laughed at Sokka's still dumbfounded expression.

As she quickly moving to stand beside Sokka he seemed to find his ability to speak once again.

"Everything's going smoothly and the eclipse hasn't even kicked in yet." He said, not noticing his sister who glanced at her hand and frowned before her eyes trained towards the sky above.

"Let's hope our luck holds out." Hakoda said before he noticed his daughter looking away. "Katara, you seem distracted. Is something wrong?" He asked.

Katara nodded. "Yeah. Is that ... is that Aang?" She pointed towards the approaching flying figure. Everyone stood up, eyes towards the sky. As soon as Aang landed, Sokka was on him.

"Please tell me you're here because the Fire Lord turned out to be a big wimp and you didn't even need the eclipse to take him down." He pleaded as Orora moved to kneel down beside Sokka as Katara and Aang assumed the same position with Toph standing just beside them.

"He wasn't home. No one was. The entire palace city is abandoned."

Orora blinked. "But why would they-" She was cut off by Sokka who's eyes widened in realization. "They knew." A horrified silence filled the air once the reality of what Sokka had said settled in.

Orora felt her insides turn to ice.

They had known.

The Fire Nation had known about their plan and had time to prepare for it.

"It's over." Aang said, his voice full of dismay. "The Fire Lord is probably long-gone; far away on some remote island where he'll be safe during the eclipse."

Sokka, however, had other ideas. "No." He stated, shaking his head. "My instincts tell me he wouldn't go too far. He would have a secret bunker; somewhere he could go and be safe during the siege but still be close enough to lead his nation."

Toph stepped up, grinning. "If it's an underground secret bunker we're looking for," She pointed to herself. "Then I'm just the girl to find it."

Pulling out a small device, Sokka observed it quickly. "The Mechanist gave me this timing device." He explained. "It looks like we've got about ten minutes until the full eclipse. Ten minutes to find the Fire Lord." He added to which Orora pursed her lips, her mind already preparing for what was to come.

Aang nodded with a look of sheer determination. "We can still do this." He stated. "We can still win the day."

"Wait!" Katara stepped forward. "If they knew we were coming it could all be a trap. Maybe we should use the time we have left to make sure we all get out of here safely."

Orora shook her head. "We can't wait for another chance to come our way like today Katara. We have to try and end this." She stated as Hakoda stepped forward.

"Everyone who's here today came prepared to risk everything for this mission." He gestured towards the still fighting army. "They know what's at stake. If there's still a chance and there's still hope, I think they would want Aang to go for it." He ended after which Sokka turned his attention to Aang.

"What do you think? You're the one that has to face the Fire Lord." He reached out to grasp his shoulder. "Whatever you decide, I'm with you."

Aang took a brief pause where he looked at each of them individually before rising to his feet. "I've gotta try."

As Toph, Sokka and Aang prepared to take off, Orora, who had been struggling with an idea forming in her mind, stepped forward.

"Wait! I-I think I should go with you." Her mind was running a mile a minute. "The Fire Nation family will be secured somewhere together. I can lead the way."

"But won't they know you're coming?" Katara asked, stepping forward and looking worried. Sokka frowned. "They won't have their bending, not much damage they can do. Climb on, Orora."

With a brief squeeze of Katara's hand. "I'll keep them safe." She whispered to the worried looking girl. Katara nodded, watching as the older girl quickly jumped on Appa's head. It didn't take them long to reach the outskirts of the volcano in which the capital city resided.

As soon as Appa landed, everyone jumped off, with Toph placing her hand on the ground to feel the vibrations.

"Do you feel anything down there?" Aang asked, to which Toph nodded.

"Yep. There are natural tunnels criss-crossing through the inside of the volcano." She responded before Sokka added.

"Anything else? Is there a structure somewhere?" Toph stepped back before digging her fingers into the surface to feel the earth even deeply. "There is something big, dense and made of metal deep in the heart of the volcano."

Sokka raised his arms in the air in triumph. "Sounds like a secret bunker to me." Toph quickly earthbended a hole into the side of the volcano and jumped in. Everyone, minus Appa and Momo followed suit.

Toph leaned over to press her hand to the ground once more, while Orora inspected her finger to try and see if she could feel any tugging.

"Anything?" Aang asked her, to which she shook her head. Toph, meanwhile, pointed in one direction. "This way! That one's a dead end!"

Without hesitation everyone filed after her. "What would we do without you?" Sokka exclaimed.

"Perish in burning hot magma." She stated as they walked past one that was just that. "Yeah, pretty much." Sokka stated as they carefully walked past. The deeper they traveled the hotter it got, and the larger the streams of magma became. Sweat lined her forehead, and Orora could feel her clothes sticking to her skin. After a minute or so the small group paused at the edge of a geyser field.

A very active geyser field.

"The tunnel continues on the other side and it leads right to the bunker." Toph stated as Orora stepped forward. Taking on a stance that was slight earthbending in nature, she pushed her hands to the ground, feeling the burning hot water below and keeping it all at bay for them to pass easily.

"We'll have to be fast, but careful." Sokka stated as they all began to make their way carefully across the field. Orora was able to hold off most of them, but some managed to slip past her as she began to loose a little control over the natural aspect that was inevitable.

Though soon they came to another problem.

A river of lava.

"There's no floor. It's just a river of lava." Sokka bemoaned.

Aang, who was not to be deterred, simply opened his staff. "Climb aboard and hold on tight."

Orora and Sokka glanced at one another and gulped.

A full three minutes of screaming in fear on Sokka, Orora and Toph's part later, they had safely passed over the lava river and were sprinting their way towards a large metal dome like structure with a huge door.

Sokka look rather impressed. "That's some door!" He said as Toph walked over to it and banged the metal with her fist. "Not a problem." She stated confidently. A few seconds later they were on the other side.

"I am so glad we added you to the group!" Sokka stated excitedly. "You feel anything yet Orora?" Aang asked as they raced down a series of more tunnels. Orora had no time to reply when they ran into a Fire Nation citizen just walking around.

Probably out on a stroll.

Immediately, the man found himself cornered by four young children, each wearing an expression of utter fierceness and cold calculation.

The man looked like he was ready to soil himself.

"The Fire Lord's chamber is that way, down the hall, to the left, and up the stairs, you can't miss it!" He babbled without any of them having to say a single word.

Aang was the only one polite enough to call a thanks over his shoulder. As the four of them departed, the man seemed to relax slightly. Only for a blue blur to fly through the air and envelop his mouth in an ice mask.

The man's frantic yet muffled sounds of distress followed them for awhile before they tapered off as they ran further into the tunnel system.

Pulling out his device Sokka checked the time. "Only thirty seconds until the total eclipse." He stated just as they approached a set of large doors.

Aang was the one to step forward this time, a look of determination on his face. "I'm ready." He said, standing tall and powerful. "I'm ready to face the Fire Lord." Orora looked at her finger.

The string still wasn't tugging.

"Aang wait!"

But it was too late. Blasting the door open with his airbending, Aang raced inside, and with a brief moment of hesitation on Orora's part, the other three following right after him.

Though the sight of the Princess instead of the Fire Lord had them halting dead in their tracks.

                                          ————————–

Zuko stood before a small metal door, burning torches on either side of it casting shadows across his face as he briefly closed his eyes, inhaling softly.

"I'm ready to face you." He whispered to himself. With that he reached out to open the door. On the other side, his father sat on the far side of the room, drinking tea. He was surrounded by several guards from the Royal Procession, but their presence did not deter Zuko. Fire Lord Ozai set his cup down when he saw his son standing across from him.

"Prince Zuko?" His forehead creased in a frown, while a look of anger crossed his features. "What are you doing here? Why are you here?' He demanded to know.

"I'm here to tell the truth." Zuko stated, drawing strength from the memories of the two people who had stood by him no matter what.

Ozai raised an eyebrow. "Telling the truth during the middle of an eclipse. This should be interesting." With a wave of his hand, the guards filed out of the room. Once the last guard had exited, the doors closed behind them, leaving the father and son alone.

"First of all," Zuko began. "In Ba Sing Se, it was Azula who took down the Avatar, not me."

Ozai blinked a little confused since he knew how much his daughter adored to take credit for everything she did. "Why would she lie to me about that?"

Time to break the news to him then. "Because the Avatar's not dead. He survived." Zuko revealed. The reaction he was hoping for was instant. Ozai straightened where he was, shocked, angry and horrified at the same time. "What?"

"In fact," Zuko continued, not at all deterred by the way his father's anger was rising. He was well past caring now. "He's probably leading this invasion. He could be on his way here right now."

Having had enough Ozai rose to his feet, pointing towards the door. "Get out!" He growled viciously. "Get out of my sight right now if you know what's good for you!"

"That's another thing." Zuko added, his voice calm and mellow, as opposed to his father who looked like he would burst from the anger at any moment. "I'm not taking orders from you anymore."

Of course that only served to make his father angrier. "You will obey me," The man hissed. "Or this defiant breath will be your last!" He warned.

"Think again." The sound of swords being pulled from their sheaths echoed in the room as Zuko took up a defiant stance in front of his Father. "I am going to speak my mind, and you are going to listen." He stated. There was a moment of silence before Ozai sat down. Clearly he knew he could not best his son when it came to swordsmanship. Best listen to what he had to say instead.

                                          ————————–

All those feelings of hatred and anger she had felt towards the Princess of the Fire Nation came back to her in a colossal wave. This was the girl who had nearly killed Aang. The sweetest boy anyone could ever hope to know.

A cold anger ran through her veins, prompting Orora to step beside Aang, almost in a protective manner, lest Azula try something, anything, untoward.

"Where is he?" Aang demanded. "Where's the Fire Lord?"

Azula rose from the throne she'd been lounging in. "You mean I'm not good enough for you?" She pressed a hand over her heart. "You're hurting my feelings."

"Stop wasting our time and give us the information." Sokka commanded, pointing his sword at her. "You're powerless right now, so you're in no position to refuse."

Toph walked to stand beside him, hands clenched in fists. "And stick to the truth. I'll be able to tell if you're lying." She warned, though it wouldn't have mattered.

"Are you sure? I'm a pretty good liar." Azula asked, as calm as could be as she paused before beginning to recite. "I am a four-hundred foot tall purple platypus bear with pink horns and silver wings."

Toph pursed her lips, annoyed. "Okay, you're good, I admit it." Using her bending she trapped Azula with stone slabs around her. "But you ought to consider telling the truth anyway!"

The resident waterbender all but growled at the Princess. "It wouldn't have mattered Toph. Azula always lies." She said, the very words Zuko had told her so long ago.

At the sight of her, Azula's eyes narrowed and a spiteful look came into her eyes. "So I see you're the one my brother has been pining over these last few months."

Orora's heart thumped painfully at the mention of Zuko, but she pushed the feeling aside. "I'm not here to chat about your brother Azula." She snapped. "We're here to take you down like I should've done in Ba Sing Se." So saying, the girl created a spike of ice, ready to throw it at Azula but stopped when the earth trap crumbled, leaving them all surprised.

"Speaking of," Azula mused as if making pleasant conversation. "When I left Ba Sing Se I brought home some souvenirs: Dai Li agents!" Two Dai Li agents descended into the room.

An angry sound escaped Orora's lips as they landed on the ground.

"I really hate these guys."

                                          ————————–

This was it.

The moment he had waited for for so long.

Nothing could stop him from speaking his mind.

"For so long, all I wanted was for you to love me, to accept me." Zuko began, his voice strong and determined. A first for him when it came to speaking to his father. "I thought it was my honor I wanted, but really, I was just trying to please you. You, my father, who banished me just for talking out of turn." All the words Orora had once spoken to him, he now understood that she was right. That she had been right all along. He pointed his sword at his father. "My father, who challenged me, a thirteen-year-old boy, to an Agni Kai. How could you possibly justify a duel with a child?" He demanded to know, his voice breaking slightly in the end.

Ozai only responded with a scornful look in his eyes. "It was to teach you respect!"

His son shook his head. "It was cruel! And it was wrong." He countered, using the exact words Orora had said to him once so long ago.

"Then you have learned nothing!" The man shouted looking as if he wanted nothing more then to smite his son down.

Zuko only responded with a voice that was louder and much more powerful then his father's. "No, I've learned everything! And I've had to learn it on my own!" His mind began to fill with memories of all the people he had met during his time in the Earth Kingdom. "Growing up, we were taught that the Fire Nation was the greatest civilization in history. And somehow, the War was our way of sharing our greatness with the rest of the world." He let out a short laugh. "What an amazing lie that was. The people of the world are terrified by the Fire Nation. They don't see our greatness. They hate us! And we deserve it! We've created an era of fear in the world. And if we don't want the world to destroy itself we need to replace it with an era of peace and kindness." He ended his tirade of words in a softer and much gentler tone then from what he had begun.

Ozai only laughed in response. "Your uncle has gotten to you, hasn't he?" He said, his words cold and full of disgust as he brought up his older brother.

In response, Zuko only smiled proudly. "Yes. He has." He stated. "Him," He paused briefly, knowing what he said next would not be well received by his father. "And my soulmate. Orora."

The look of pure shock on Ozai's face quickly shifted to one of sheer anger and utter hatred. But Zuko didn't care.

He was done hiding who he really was. And he was done hiding from the world that his soulmate was Orora.

A waterbender from the Northern Water Tribe.

And the most amazing girl he had ever met or could hope to meet.

And his string had glowed a bright blue the past few days reminding him of just that.

                                          ————————–

As she slammed into the wall, her arms wrapped tightly around Toph to keep the younger girl safe, Orora lent out a grunt of pain.

"I'm gonna feel that in the morning." She said, as Toph jumped out of her protective embrace and stood to face the Dai Lee agent once more. Orora slowly pushed herself to her feet, legs trembling underneath her.

The hairs ta the back of her neck stood up, and her head swiped to the side. The waterbender barely had enough time to create a shield of ice to take cover behind, as Azula swiped a hidden small knife through the air.

Exactly where her neck had been barely a moment ago.

Cold blue eyes met a cold amber gaze.

Twisting on her feet, Orora unfroze the shield, the water circling around her waist before flying towards the Princess. Her intention had been to allow the water to wrap around her waist and freeze her in place. But Azula danced out of the way, almost as if she were toying with her.

A sickening feeling settled in Orora's stomach as she slowly began to realize what Azula was actually doing.

The Princess smirked at her before taking off, flying through the small hole from where Sokka was only just emerging. Toph and Aang were in hot pursuit, as was Orora.

"Orora! We need to stop! She's just trying to-"

"Distract us I know!" The older girl said, reaching out to quickly help him down from the hole. They raced out of the room behind the other two.

"Wait! Aang! Toph! Stop attacking!" Sokka called out, his words barely audible from where he was panting so much. "Don't you see what she's doing?" He demanded, not even pausing to register the confused expressions on their faces. "She's just playing with us. She's not even trying to win this fight!"

Orora stepped forward, still on guard. "And when Azula wants to win a fight, she doesn't run." The girl stated in a matter of fact voice, prompting Azula to glance at her and smirk.

"Not true." She said, her voice as calm as it could be. "I'm giving it my all."

Toph stepped forward, her body trembling with anger as she pointed at the Princess. "You're trying to keep us here and waste all our time!" Azula rolled her eyes. "Um, right, I think your friend just said that, genius." She said, before continuing. "And since you can't see, I should tell you I'm rolling my eyes."

Orora growled. She nearly stepped forward when Sokka reached out to grab her wrist stopping her.

"I'll roll your whole head!" Toph threatened to which Sokka placed a hand on her shoulder. "She's just baiting you again." He reminded her.

Aang raised an eyebrow. "Okay, so what do we do, just ignore her?" He asked, looking to Sokka who nodded.

"We don't have a choice. We just have to get out of here and find the Fire Lord on our own somehow." The three of them turned around, beginning to walk away. Orora, however, walked backwards, never once taking her eyes off Azula. She may not have her bending, but the waterbender wasn't about to turn her back on the younger Princess.

"It's a trap." Azula called after them in a calm voice. "Don't say I didn't warn you." The words prompted Aang and Toph to stop and turn around, though Sokka continued, waving his hand in a dismissive manner at the Princess.

"Ignore."

The sudden smile and gleam that came into Azula's eyes had Orora's heart sinking in her chest.

"So, Sokka's your name, right?" She said, her voice echoing slightly against the tunnels. "My favorite prisoner used to mention you all the time." The absolute glee in her voice had Aang and Orora glancing at one another, a look of concern on their faces.

Behind them, Sokka stopped short, his face turning halfway to look at the Princess with a suspicious glint in his eyes. "She was convinced you were going to come rescue her." Azula continued, her voice growing crueler and more colder at every word. Orora glanced at Sokka, biting her lower lip at seeing him trembling with anger. "Of course you never came, and she gave up on you."

He had turned around completely now, as a look of absolute grief and heartbreak crossed his features as a few tears slid down his cheeks. His eyes snapped open, and he pulled out his sword, a cold anger swimming in his eyes as he charged forward in a blind rage.

Orora saw the glint of the weapon in Azula's hand before anything else. With barely any time to react, she threw her own arm forward, allowing one of the remaining ice daggers around her belt to fly towards the Princess, knocking the weapon out of her hand.

Just as Sokka grabbed Azula by the shoulder, slamming her into the nearest wall and pressing his sword to her neck, barely an inch of a distance between them.

"Where. Is. Suki?!"

Orora's heart plummeted.

                                          ————————–

"After I leave here today, I'm going to free Uncle Iroh from his prison and I'm going to beg for his forgiveness. He's the one who's been a real father to me." Zuko continued not wanting to stop while he was ahead. And while he had the courage to talk to his father.

Ozai let out a cruel laugh. "Oh, that's just beautiful. And maybe he can pass down to you the ways of tea and failure." He said in a mocking voice, his hatred for his older brother evident in the way he spoke about him.

But Zuko ignored him. Didn't even take the bait but instead went on to his next point. "But I've come to an even more important decision." He paused momentarily, closing his eyes and drawing strength from the light blue he could see out of the corner of his eyes.

"I'm going to join the Avatar and I'm going to help him defeat you." He stated.

Ozai smiled smugly. "Really?" He questioned, his tone matching his expression. "Since you're a full-blown traitor now and you want me gone, why wait?" He held out his arms. "I'm powerless. You've got your swords. Why don't you just do it now?" He asked, knowing is he could bait him, distract him, he could defeat him when the Eclipse ended.

Zuko shook his head. "Because I know my own destiny. Taking you down is the Avatar's destiny." He put his swords away, moving to walk away. "Goodbye." He said, already turning and towards the door.

Not wanting him to leave Ozai stood, stalling for time. "Coward!" He screamed after his son. "You think you're brave enough to face me, but you'll only do it during the eclipse. If you have any real courage, you'll stick around until the sun comes out."

And in one last desperate attempt to stop his son, Ozai cruelly broached the subject he had denied him for so long. "Don't you want to know what happened to your mother?"

That did it.

Despite his best efforts, Zuko couldn't help but turn around. The man smiled, and Zuko knew he was playing with his life by staying near the other man, but if it meant getting information about his mother, then so be it.

"What happened that night?" He asked, waiting with baited breath.

"My father, Fire Lord Azulon, had commanded me to do the unthinkable to you, my own son, and I was going to do it." His admittance didn't bring Zuko any sorrow. Ozai was incapable of loving him, he realized it now, and Zuko had made his peace with it.

"Your mother found out and swore she would protect you at any cost." Zuko's heart constricted at the mention of his mother. She gave up herself to save him. "She knew I wanted the throne and she proposed a plan, a plan in which I would become Fire Lord and your life would be spared."

There was a pause before his father continued. "Your mother did vicious, treasonous things that night. She knew the consequences and accepted them. For her treason, she was banished."

Banished.

Not killed like he had believed.

Banished.

So Orora had been right about this too.

Tears filled his eyes. "So she's alive?" He asked, taking a step forward, wanting to know more. Hungry to know more.

Ozai nodded. "Perhaps. Now I realize that banishment is far too merciful a penalty for treason." He closed his eyes and Zuko felt it. He could feel his firebending returning, knew that the Eclipse was ending and that he had to make his escape.

"Your penalty will be far steeper."

Now!

In a manner of seconds Ozai generated several bolts of lightning firing them directly at Zuko. But Zuko was ready for it. He brought his arms up, his fingers pointing outwards, just in time. The force of the bolts slid him back several feet but he kept his stance as he allowed the lightning to travel from his arm, down his stomach, and out his other arm.

Safely and successfully redirecting lightning.

The bolts crackled through the air and hit the wall just above where his father stood.

Zuko wasted no time to see the result of his actions. Instead he raced out, adrenaline coursing through his veins as made his escape.

Now to free his Uncle.

                                          ————————–

"Answer me!"

Azula didn't say a single word.

Orora was the one who stepped forward, her hand on Sokka's shoulder. "Sokka, she won't ever tell you. We have to go now!" The girl urged the young warrior, knowing just how much his soul hurt at the thought of his soulmate in chains somewhere.

"Where are you keeping her?"

Since she was standing so close to Azula and actually paying attention to her, Orora was the one who realized the sudden change in the Princess's stance.

"Sounds like the firebending's back on." She'd barely gotten the words out when she kicked her leg in a wide arc, sending a fire blast that would've hit Sokka had Orora not pulled him out of the way.

With a powerful tug the girl threw the boy behind her, dropping into a fighting stance as Azula freed herself from Toph's earth-shackles. When the other girl had done that, Orora had no idea. Azula flipped, her leg extended towards in incoming Aang, who would've been hit in the face if Orora hadn't brought up a shield of ice to protect him.

The Princess managed to land on her feet, smirking.

"Dad's all the way at the end of the hall then down a secret stairway on the left." She said, already moving to walk away. I'm sure he'd be more than happy to see you now."

Her cold calculated eyes suddenly found Orora and her smirk only widened. "And I'll be seeing you very soon." Azula all but cooed in a threatening manner. "You can hi to Zuzu in person."

With that she ran off, leaving Orora and her friends devastated and defeated.

"I fell for it!" Sokka said, his voice cracking with emotion. "I used up all our time."

Toph stepped forward. "It's not your fault, Sokka." She reassured her friend. "Azula was ready for us. She had every move planned out." Sokka simply shook his head. "And now it's too late." He stated sorrowfully.

Aang stepped forward. "Maybe it's not too late." He insisted. "The eclipse is over. But I can face the Fire Lord anyway." Orora's rounded on Aang, her features twisted in anger. "Are you crazy? Do you want to die again Aang?"

Alright so maybe she shouldn't have shouted at the younger boy, but her emotion were running high and Azula's words had jilted her to the very core.

Not to mention she could feel her finger tugging.

Though Aang looked at her in shock, Sokka backed her up. "No. Orora is right. I don't think that's a good idea."

Aang frowned. "But I'm ready!" He insisted. "I came here with a job to do and everyone's counting on me." Toph joined Sokka's side. "The Fire Lord knew we were coming this time. We thought we had surprise on our side but we didn't." Her voice became downcast. "It just wasn't our day. What we need to do now is go and help our friends."

Aang looked around at his three friends. Sokka, who was still looking sad and heartbroken, Top who wore an expression of acceptance and Orora who looked downright cold and angry. "I am not about to let Katara or anyone else live through what we did after loosing you in Ba Sing Se, Aang." She suddenly burst out, hands clenched at her sides. Memories of that night rose to his mind as well as all the worry and fear he had caused. He didn't want his friends to go through that again. Especially not Katara. Slowly he nodded. "I guess you guys are right."

Suddenly Toph tensed.

"There's someone coming. A lot of someone." She stated, her knees bent as she assumed a defensive position. Aang and Sokka dropped into defensive stances as well, facing the tunnel that Toph had pointed out.

Suddenly Orora stepped in front of them.

"No." She said, her voice cold and stern. The other three glanced at her in confusion. "They're here for me." She stated, her back towards them so they wouldn't see the true fear in her eyes. "Knowing Azula, she sent them to capture me so their focus will be on me."

Aang, realizing what Orora was about to do suddenly straightened. "We are not leaving you here to face them alone, Orora!" He insisted. Sokka's eyes widened before he shook his head, raising his sword in front of him. "We're all getting out of here together." He moved to step forward, but stopped when a small ice dagger shot through the air, landing just an inch away from his shoe. Orora finally turned, fixing them both with a cold hard stare. One that was intense enough to have both boys stepping back.

"Listen to me." She said, her voice urgent, stern and cold. "Get out of here. Get on Appa and go help Katara and the others. This is one battle I have to fight on my own without having to worry about anyone else." Toph was the one who stepped forward this time. "Orora there are five of them." She said, her voice full of fear for her sister.

Orora smirked as twin blades of ice materialized in her hands from the remaining water she had left in her water skins. "Then I'll make sure to leave none standing."

She turned her gaze towards Aang. "I'll meet you where you said you would take us after today." She said to which Aang gave a nod of understanding. "Tell Katara, I'm sorry. I had to stay, to keep all of you safe. Now go!"

They hesitated. "Go!" The girl screamed, briefly turning her ice dagger into a whip and hitting it near their feet. Each of them hesitated once more, uncertainty and heartbreak evident in their eyes before Sokka took Toph's hand and began pulling her behind him.

Unsure grey eyes met pleading ice blue.

"I'll be fine." She promised.

They both knew it was a lie.

Finally, Aang turned and ran after Sokka and Toph.

As she watched her three friends make their escape, each of their hearts was heavy, knowing that they had no other choice.

They had to stay safe to fight another day.

And Orora was willing to give up her life to make sure that happened.

                                          ————————–

His Uncle was gone. And the next best thing for him to do was make his own getaway.

And he was going to.

He was about to race towards the location where he had smuggled away the war balloon when a vicious tug on his finger had him stopping short.

Zuko glanced at his finger, the string glowing a bright blue. It was almost taut, leading him towards the lower base of the volcano that made up Fire Nation capital. His heart raced in his chest.

She was there.

Orora was there.

A feeling rose within him, one that had him stumbling forward before he broke into a run. He had felt that feeling before. It was so many months ago, but he still remembered it.

Still remembered the bitter taste in his mouth and the way his very soul grew heavy within him.

He had felt it once before at the North Pole.

That fateful night when he had saved a young waterbender girl from being killed.

A young waterbender who turned out to be his soulmate.

Zuko had felt this very feeling as he had watched the soldier raise his hand to fire at Orora.

To end her life.

It was pure, utter, and heart wrenching dread.

And that feeling was what propelled him to run faster, kicking up dirt as he went, his eyes wide with fear as he followed his string, his heart, his soul, as it led her back to her.

Back to his soulmate.

Back to Orora.

                                          ————————–

The tugging on her finger was what guided her towards the unexpected exit.

The Fire Nation soldiers were hot at her heels, trying their best to capture her, but she was much too fast and quick. Orora had honed herself to be the perfect fighter through sheer determination and practice, and though she could never be as naturally gifted a waterbender as Katara, she was not going to do her best.

Toph had been right.

There were five of them.

Well four now since she had managed to knock one out with a kick to the head.

She could see daylight up ahead, and it only propelled her to run faster. A blast of fire grazed the top of her head, prompting her to duck down but she didn't stop running. Gripping one of her ice daggers, she twisted on her feet briefly and allowed it to fly through the air.

Her aim was true, since the sharp projectile hit one of the mask-less soldier straight in the eye. His scream of agony filled the tunnel, but Orora barely heard it. At that very moment she burst out of the tunnel.

What she hadn't counted on, was one of the other firebenders firing too soon.

As she exited the tunnel, pain unlike any she had ever felt before radiated from her side. The young waterbender stumbled, her feet fumbling as she cried out. With the speed she had been running at Orora went careening into the ground, bouncing against the hard ground painfully a few times before she rolled to a stop.

Her breath was knocked out of her, and she was sure cuts and bruises littered her skin. She pressed a hand to her side where it hurt, crying out softly from the pain.

She'd definitely been burned.

Still, she had to get up. Had to try and get away.

With a groan, and despite her body throbbing with pain, she managed to push herself to her knees. "Give up girlie!" One of the soldiers called out as the other three surrounded her.

Reaching up she wiped the side of her mouth where she had cut her lip and was bleeding. "I would rather die." She hissed, her hands dropping to the ground where she pulled out the water from the grass around her.

The grass lost it's color, turning brown. Despite the pain, Orora created twin circles of water around her, that spun at a high speed. High enough and thin enough to cut through the thickest armor. She glared at the three remaining soldiers, gritting her teeth from the pain.

"Lets take her. The Princess wants her alive." One of them said.

Her finger tugged, almost viciously, and her eyes widened.

The soldier who had spoken stepped forward, only to be kicked aside by an extremely familiar figure as he emerged from jumped out from behind an outcropping of rocks.

The figure landed on the ground, wasting no time to reach behind and pulling out a pair of swords.

"You'll have to go through me." Zuko growled, his tone vicious, a clear warning in his tone as he stood over her. His heart was racing in his chest at the sight he had just been greeted with.

Orora on her knees, bleeding and hurt.

It didn't matter to him that she could defend herself.

In that moment, all that mattered to him was that she was in pain, and those responsible would pay dearly for hurting his soulmate.

"Prince Zuko!" One of the soldiers exclaimed while the other helped their knocked out companion. "Your sister asked us to capture this girl. She's the enemy, she was with the Avatar."

Zuko stepped forward, his presence commanding and yet dangerous at the same time. "Then you tell my sister, that if she ever even thinks of hurting her again, I will take her down. Permanently."

Perhaps it was the cold-blooded look in the Prince's eyes, or perhaps the soldier knew he would not be able to take down the Prince. Whatever it was, the three soldiers quickly retreated back into the tunnels.

Leaving a slowly calming Zuko and an injured Orora alone.

The entire time Orora had stayed still, her eyes wide and her heart in her chest as she scarcely dared to believe who was standing in front of her. Protecting her just like he had in her dream. The water circles she had created dropped to the ground as she lowered her arms, her body relaxing.

And yet as her body relaxed the adrenaline left her, and she finally felt the true extent of the burn at her side. A cry of pain fell from her lips as she hunched over. Tears sprang to her eyes as she raised a trembling hand to try and waterbend some water back from he ground to heal herself.

At the sound of her, the young Prince turned around and dropped his swords as he fell to his knees in front of Orora. "No, wait, use this." He urged, holding out his water skin that had clean water in it. Her fingers quivered as she coated them with the clean water.

Placing her hand to her burned side, the girl whimpered from the pain. Involuntarily, her free hand reached out to grasp on to the first thing she could grab.

His hand.

Which she gripped so tightly that he was sure there would be bruises later.

But he didn't care.

Zuko stayed still, his features creased with worry as he watched her close her eyes and the water begin to glow as she healed herself. Orora bit her lip, reopening the small cut that she had gotten a few minutes ago. A thin trail of scarlet snaked down the side of her mouth.

Zuko reached up, his thumb pressing against her skin as he wiped away the blood. His touch was what prompted her to open her eyes.

After so many days.

Soft blue eyes met warm amber gaze.

"Yo-you're here?" Came her voice, barely above a whisper. As if she were afraid speaking loudly would shatter the moment.

"I'm here." He responded, bringing the hand he held in his own to press it against the side of his scarred face.

Their strings glowed.

His blue.

Hers red.

Blue eyes rolled, turning skyward, and Orora fell against Zuko in a dead faint. He caught her, a pang of worry racing through his body. He had to get her cleaned up and bandaged otherwise she might get an infection. Besides, his sister would send even more soldiers if she knew Orora were still there.

Quickly sheathing his swords, he gathered Orora in his arms. Her head rested against his shoulder, with one of his arms supporting her legs while the other wrapped around her waist, being careful of her injuries.

He would find her friends later, right now, all he cared about was making sure that she was alright.

And that was all that mattered to him.

                                           ————————–

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[britcision]

As promised, part two!

First Chapter:

Part One of this chapter:

————————

So That Just Happened part 2

In the bathroom, Jason turned the hot tap on as high as it’d go and stood over the sink, breathing in the steam. He just… he just needed to clear his head. Get his thoughts straight.

Sleep for the next six fucking weeks and make Pitty someone else’s problem, ideally.

The weight of Frostbite’s gift sat heavy in his pants pocket and he pulled the case out, shaking a single glowing ice chip into his hand. The rising temperature of the bathroom didn’t affect it at all, which didn’t surprise Jason.

He considered putting it under the stream of hot water but didn’t bother.

Frostbite said not to use them too much, or get too dependent on them. On the other hand, fuck today. So much.

He crushed the shard in his hand and shoved the pieces into his mouth. This time it tasted like ozone and limes, and stung the inside of his mouth. In a good way, though.

The rush of energy was the same, and Jason would swear he could feel his frayed edges slowly closing over. Not a real substitute for food or sleep, but sure as hell beat coffee.

He had a couple dozen more ice chips, which he tucked away in the medicine cabinet behind the mirror. The mirror wasn’t supposed to have a cabinet, but it had been easy enough to make one, and so far none of his siblings had found it yet… if they even found this apartment.

(None of them would have been able to resist commenting on the collage he’d made across the back wall of their most “interesting” family photos. Or the little batburger figurines of each of their alter-egos.

Jason had made sure he got the worst ones on the market, and knew their exact positions. If a single one shifted, he’d know.)

It was on the outer edge of Crime Alley, far from the heart his family all expected him to hole up in, and the rest of the building was a completely unremarkable old library which had been abandoned before Jason was born.

Getting himself a well secured home had been easy to slip into the renovation plans; he’d had Bruce “buy” the building through Jason’s funds to start restoring it, keeping it well removed from Red Hood’s name. It was the first project he planned to put his own name on, now that he was officially alive again.

The Catherine Todd Memorial Library.

The building itself wasn’t open yet, the main part of it still being remodelled, but the needle drop off and exchange was already running from the front entrance.

This was home, as much as anywhere ever was. More than anywhere had ever been since Wayne Manor.

Jason tensed against the anger, but nothing rose this time. The ecto-ice had given him a flood of energy, the same almost static clarity, but he still felt drained. Like there was no anger left in him.

It would have been nice if it felt good.

The steam had fogged the mirror now, collecting in the air even against the bathroom’s fan. Shutting the tap off, Jason closed his eyes and sucked in a few more deep, fortifying breaths.

Maybe the ecto-ice had been a mistake. All he wanted to do was fall into bed and sleep, but he wouldn’t be able to for at least a few hours now.

Patrol was out of the question. His body may be revitalized and humming with energy, but his head wasn’t in the game. Even Lady Gotham’s embrace couldn’t pull his scattered thoughts together.

What he needed was some mindless TV, some stupidly indulgent junk food, and a blanket. He’d heard… well, things about the new Sex and the City spinoff. Not exactly good things, but things.

Carrie Bradshaw’s not-problems could be the perfect backdrop to a night in.

Alfred would probably send him cookies if he asked. This being an emergency and all. Although… it wasn’t like they could explain the nature of the emergency without the whole ghost reveal.

… Probably still worth a try though.

His Red Hood phone was still at the safe house he’d slept in, but at least one of his spares for his civilian life should be in the apartment somewhere.

The steam had mostly cleared too, leaving the mirror only slightly foggy around the edges. Jason gave it a careful wipe down out of habit; dots on the mirror didn’t usually bother him, but… he’d put Catherine’s name on the building. He wanted to keep everything in it nice.

(Which was why a lot of stuff was unused.)

It wasn’t until he opened the door that he realized he really hadn’t said anything to Danny before disappearing.

Would he have left? Fuck, that’d be the obvious choice, wouldn’t it? Getting dropped off just inside a stranger’s door, and then they just walk away from you into the bathroom.

Shit, Danny had probably left. That… Jason didn’t know how to feel about that, and the empty hall only confirmed his suspicions.

On the one hand, he really wasn’t up to more talking. He didn’t even want to think about everything that had happened today, and especially not whatever the hell was lose in his city, trying to feed his rage. He couldn’t handle one more gentle reassurance that it was okay to be angry.

On the other hand, he really, really didn’t want to be alone. The noise from the TV and the snacks would cut it in a pinch, but the only thing he actually wanted right now was company. Quiet, nonjudgemental company.

He hadn’t told any of the bats about this safe house. Not even Bruce’s contractors knew he’d snuck it in. He’d wanted it to be safe from them and from everyone else, and now he could keep his fucking secrets at the cost of being alone.

A little heavy handed as a metaphor.

… Fuck, Alfred couldn’t even bring him cookies without knowing where he was.

He turned away from the hall and made for the bedroom to grab the spare phone, though he wasn’t sure who he’d message anymore. Just as he was debating the merits of messaging Cass and getting her to do him a delivery, a noise from the kitchen caught his attention. Hope rose, slowly and uncertainly. Had Danny not left?

… Why was Danny in his kitchen, when he was a self professed fire hazard?

Caution and concern flaring right alongside that hope, Jason backtracked and hurried to the kitchen.

**

There were not enough dirty dishes.

There was like, a mug, a coffee pot, and two plates. Really, Danny should have been done in minutes and fidgeting for something else to do.

But then he’d been looking for where to put the plates away, and he’d found a really impressive spice cabinet. Right next to the stovetop, made sense he guessed, though personally he preferred to keep the damn plates where they’d be used.

He’d perused a couple of labels on the little jars, mildly amused by how many he absolutely could not even guess at. What the fuck was “marjoram”? Or “zataar”?

So the logical thing to do had been open the jars for a sniff.

All well and good. He didn’t recognize most of the smells either, and couldn’t imagine why you’d put almost half of them in any kind of food, but some of them smelled really good.

But then he’d found the garlic powder.

Danny did not cook, as a rule. Sam cooked, mostly from spite, and she always used fresh smashed garlic. Danny’s youtuber chefs mostly said the jarred chopped stuff was fine, but what the fuck was garlic powder?

And what garlic powder was, was pungent. Really, really strongly scented, and super light. Just opening the jar had puffed up a cloud of the stuff, and Danny had been about to sniff it anyway and took a bigger huff than he intended.

And then he’d sneezed.

And now Jason’s entire kitchen was dusted in garlic powder, including the dishes he’d just washed and left on the counter while he found their homes.

So Danny panicked.

Trying to dust the garlic powder off the counters with his hands only got more of it into the air, and he wasn’t falling for that fucking trap again, no sir. He went ghost again and stopped fucking breathing is what he did, then grabbed a garlic covered towel and tried to wipe the powder into a pile.

No dice.

But Danny was a professional superhero. He calmed himself down. He stopped panicking. He went looking for a dustpan and brush like a sensible adult.

And then he heard the bathroom door open, froze like a deer in the headlights, and reflexively jerked straight off the floor.

Because right, he had fucking ghost powers.

At least he already hadn’t been breathing. Luckily, Jason seemed to need something from the other side of the apartment since his footsteps pretty much immediately moved away, and Danny let out another relieved breath.

He could still fix this. This would be fine. He could telekinetically pick up all the garlic dust, and throw it in the trash because a lot was on the floor and the rest was on him and also Every Other Surface On Earth, and buy Jason more tomorrow.

Before Jason came back from wherever else he was going and realized Danny was a fucking menace. Focusing hard, Danny let his aura suffuse the room and focused on the garlic powder. Willed it to lift off whatever it was touching, and come towards him.

Of course, some of it was now on the clean dishes, and in the mug. Which fell over as Danny pulled its powder coating away.

Jason’s footsteps immediately stopped. And then began hurrying towards him.

And maybe Danny panicked again, just a tiny bit, but the good news was he did not ice over the whole kitchen! He’d grown so much since Ghost Puberty Part 2 Electric Boogaloo! He was totally in control!

He just iced the dishes to the counter and froze the floating garlic powder, which was why Jason appeared in the doorway to see Danny floating like a fucking dumbass in the middle of his kitchen, surrounded by sparkling ice crystals.

Danny raised both hands immediately.

“I can explain.”

**

So the thing about Spiderheck. The really big pain in the ass thing. Was that every round was super unpredictable, even when you weren’t playing with superheroes trying to adapt their actual abilities to spider bodies.

There really was no way to know what would be a long or short round.

Tucker had tried a couple more times to “fall” early on, only to be promptly followed by one or both of his fellow competitors.

The good news was, they were at least all tied up for now, so he’d gotten more time without anyone asking questions. The bad news was, it was match point. Whoever took this next one, if they didn’t all tie, it would be time for another set.

Aaaaand Conner and Tim were still having fun, and insisted they were just warming up, but Tucker was sweating anyway. He didn’t even know spiders could sweat.

Ancients, had he actually fucked up using his powers for the first time in years when he was trying to show off for Red Robin and Superboy?

He was going to look like a fucking newb. An absolute amateur.

And that was assuming that no one had come looking for them and noticed the empty room and still going game on the TV. Would Batman think he’d kidnapped Red Robin?

Who was Tucker kidding, he totally would. Bruce was paranoid as hell, and while he mostly seemed to be aiming it at Danny, that was probably because he hadn’t realized Tucker was liminal. Did the GIW even know about liminals? There probably wasn’t much documentation for him to freak himself out about with.

Of course, in this case he wouldn’t be wrong. Tim would be trapped. It’d just be because Tucker was a dumbass, not a malicious force. At least Tim and Conner would almost definitely believe him.

Aaaand he’d never live it down. It was only a matter of time before they both noticed he wasn’t really trying to win anymore too. He’d kept up, but that was mostly by accident. He just had a lot of practice being inside the game levels.

A lot of them could kill all the players on their own, no PVP required.

He felt like an absolute caveman when the answer finally came to him, and it wasn’t even his own idea.

Because the last level had been one of those “kill all the players” levels, and all three of them had managed to be thrown into lava close enough that the computer didn’t count a winner.

Tim and Conner groaned loudly before bursting out laughing, because of course that was what happened at their dramatic finale, and then as they’d spawned in again Tim turned to Tucker.

“Hey, can you pause before we get into this one? I just wanna catch my breath a second.”

Which, for a nanosecond, felt like the absolute end of the world, because he didn’t have his controller buttons. Because he was a dumbass.

Luckily, it also snapped him back to his senses, and reminded him of the very first time he’d put Sam and Danny into a game with him. They’d made the same mistake, not leaving anyone their actual console controls, and Danny had begun trying to actually physically break them out before Tucker worked it out.

They were his fucking powers. He could always pause them, whatever they were doing; all he had to do was close his eyes and blank out for like, a minute.

He’d been collapsing in despair that first time, and Sam had kicked him over, sat on him, and demanded he take a nap, and then they were all back in their bodies like nothing had happened.

Keeping them inside the game was the part that was difficult; it was an act of focus, and sure it felt automatic at this point because he did this all the time now, but it was still something he had to actively do. Sure, technically, he wouldn’t be controlling the game from the inside, but they’d be back in their fucking bodies in the real world.

Where the actual console controls were. And then he could reload them in, and not forget his overrides this time, and everything would be fine.

Luckily, while his brain was techno-linked, he was processing in computer-time, not people-time. There was barely a pause after Tim asked the question and the answer came, tension leaving his body so quickly he almost sagged.

He even sounded a little giddily relieved to his own ears as he answered, laughing and already shutting his eyes.

“Well, kinda. Let me just pop us back out, we should probably check the time too. Hang on.”

Luckily, this stage did not seem to have any instant death traps. Tim and Conner fucked around with the crates and the platforms for a couple of seconds while Tucker reached inside, deliberately pulling his disconnect instead of waiting, and then they were all back on the couch, controllers in hand.

He’d never been so happy to see his own hands. Or the Start button, which he promptly hit to pause all three spiders before Tim and Conner’s could swing to their deaths. Even if that would give him the win.

Tim and Conner shifted beside him, getting used to their bodies again. Tucker took the lead there, setting his controller down and stretching his arms up behind his head, the phantom sensations of extra limbs already beginning to fade.

“It stops feeling weird pretty fast, but it helps if you move around,” he explained brightly, still high on that buzz of relief.

Conner made a noise of agreement, standing and stretching his arms over his head, which made his shirt ride up. Tucker had the good sense to turn away quickly, before he got hypnotized.

Not quickly enough that Tim didn’t notice, but Tim Drake-Wayne remained the very coolest person on planet Earth and didn’t say anything. He just grinned knowingly at Tucker and rolled his shoulders, stretching out his neck.

“Okay, that was really cool. Not even a little bit the same, but really cool.”

Tucker grinned back, sheepish but still just happy he didn’t get caught.

“Yeah, there’s always the skill barrier where you can’t do the button combos, but I still feel like it helps? Y’know, understanding how the characters move and stuff.”

“I’m just glad you picked up the TTK that fast,” Conner cut in with a laugh, now bending down to touch his toes, blessedly while facing them.

Tucker swelled with pride.

“I mean, it wasn’t all that complicated. You explained it really well,” he said totally calmly, totally cool, definitely not fawning over the actual demigod in the room.

He didn’t exactly get why Conner shot Tim an entirely triumphant grin or why Tim rolled his eyes, but he wasn’t gonna worry about that. Tonight, he was batting a thousand.

He’d be tired getting back to class tomorrow, and he couldn’t exactly tell his classmates he’d been hanging out with Tim Drake-Wayne and being carried home by actual Superboy, but this was still the best week of his life. And Tim had already been talking about getting him an internship.

His life really could not be finer.

**

Jason took the mess well. Probably because Danny had a) already been working on it and b) panicked like a startled duckling and explained at a mile a minute, getting the order of events completely wrong at least twice.

Having the garlic powder iced over definitely helped the cleanup too. Jason grabbed a garbage bag, Danny floated what was in the air in, and they both took damp cloths to hunt down any stray garlic powder hiding in crevices.

Danny rewashed the dishes, but Jason dried them with a fresh towel and showed him where everything was. All in all, it was a blissfully domestic moment after a genuinely fucked day.

He could feel an unasked question waiting on the back of Jason’s tongue while they cleaned up, the shape of anticipation and something that wasn’t exactly fear, or even anxiety, just a low grade avoidance. Danny didn’t push it.

That seemed like the right answer too, because when they’d finished and stared at each other awkwardly for a long moment, Jason sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Look, I know you’ve got school tomorrow. If you’ve gotta head out…” he trailed off, resigned-tired filling his aura.

Danny raised both hands to cut him off.

“Hey. I can fly across this city in like, fifteen minutes. It’s not even half eleven yet, so if you want some company I’ve got nowhere else to be. We can talk about whatever, play some more MarioKart, or I can just make you some cocoa and go if you need space?”

Jason didn’t physically sag with relief, but that was probably because he’d already been holding himself carefully to hide the tension. Didn’t matter, because everything else about him screamed it as he raised an eyebrow at Danny, glancing around his kitchen.

“I’m not leaving you alone in here again until you’re Alfred-certified,” he declared sarcastically, and Danny grinned back.

“Ah, so never again. Good to know. It’s probably for the best, I’m a lousy cook for anything I don’t have to wrestle to the ground.” Not that he was any better at cooking it after he’d won the fight; he was just pretty good at the fighting part.

Jason’s eyebrow twitched and then he chuckled, shaking his head and pointing out of the kitchen.

“Tell you what, I’ll make you some cocoa while you go turn the TV on. Remote’s on the end table.”

That sounded like an invitation to stay to Danny! So he hadn’t totally fucked by not booking it out of Jason’s haunt at top speed; good to know.

And maybe he did physically sag with relief a little, because expressing your emotions was cool actually and everyone should totally be doing it more. And it was more fun in ghost form; he actually sunk til his feet almost touched the ground.

Didn’t go all the way when he remembered he was still in his boots. Jason’s other apartments had been pretty well lived in although still generally tidy, but this one was almost pristine. Whether it was new or he was just more careful here, Danny could take a hint.

He gestured quickly at his body while Jason pulled a cartoon of milk from the giant, gleaming blue-black fridge that looked mostly empty.

“Sure, uh… mind if I change?”

Jason blinked, which was fair since Danny had been a ghost for the past couple hours, then nodded.

“Not at all. There’s also some sweatpants and stuff in the bedroom if you wanna get more comfortable, but I don’t have as much of Tim or Dick’s stuff here so you might be stuck in mine,” he added a little shyly, and Danny’s grin widened as he remembered his new favourite shirt.

“You have five minutes to hide any other great soup shirts before I take you up on that,” he teased and Jason grinned back.

“Nah, go for it. I’ll only be a little longer than that with the cocoa though, so don’t do too much snooping around.” It didn’t sound like an actual warning, but he’d also already turned back to what he was doing… which already looked way too complicated.

He had a saucepan for crying out loud. Like Danny couldn’t see the electric kettle and fancy coffee machine. Tempted to stick around to watch just for curiosity, Danny floated back to the front door to change back and drop off his shoes and coat instead.

And hesitated.

Jason had given him permission to go to the bedroom. Change out of his jeans and jacket. He didn’t actually need to; the jeans were pretty comfy, well worn in, but they did have some built up salt, slush, and yuck from walking and driving around Gotham’s streets around the ends.

It was possible the suggestion had been more for the sake of Jason’s couch than Danny’s comfort.

He could just go intangible and let the dirt fall through, but that’d leave a pile which while technically being more contained would still be more mess. And sometimes it was hard to tell what was dirt and what was pants, since they weren’t exactly “his” either way.

He could just do laundry when he got home.

Luckily the bedroom door was open, so Danny didn’t have to poke into any of the other doors from the hall. Just like at his other apartment, there was indeed a separate set of six drawers with Jason’s siblings name on each drawer.

Well, “Dickhead”, “Timbo”, “The Purple One”, “Cass”, “Demon Brat”, and “Best Sibling”. Snickering to himself, Danny considered taking a picture. Or asking Duke what he’d done to be “Best Sibling”.

Unlike the other apartment, each drawer was mostly empty though. Just a pair of sweatpants about the right size, a hoodie, and a shirt that Jason had definitely assigned rather than getting one of theirs. Although Danny didn’t doubt Dick would own a Nightwing hoodie in the least.

The My Little Pony shirt for Damian was… well, Danny didn’t know him well enough to say.

With the clothes that might actually fit located (and honestly Cass’s were probably actually his best bet), Danny snooped through a couple other drawers to see if Jason did have any other fun shirts to steal.

There was actually depressingly little; Jason had plenty of clothes here, just like the other apartments, but all of them were… respectable. Plain. Block colours, simple patterns, normal people clothing.

Danny was just about to give up when he popped open the bottom drawer and stared in awe.

Jason’s regular wardrobe (from Danny’s admittedly limited experience) was kinda basic; plain shirt, sexy jacket, plain pants. Extra sweaters given the weather, but he did also have a pretty good collection of graphic tees with various swearwords usually featured boldly.

Where what had to be the complete collection of every Wonder Woman shirt ever made fit in, Danny wasn’t going to try and guess, but he knew good taste when he saw it.

Unfortunately, if he stole one of those, Jason was probably gonna want it back. Most of them were clearly worn, and just as clearly carefully cleaned to keep them nice. Danny wasn’t good at keeping things nice.

Somewhat reluctantly, he shuffled back to the siblings’ dresser and stole Cass’s hot pink paw print sweats, Steph’s 1000% bootlegged Sex In The City misprint shirt with the purple sparkle dildos painted over the girls, and the Nightwing hoodie. Never let it be said he could put together an outfit.

Fingering the shirt, he made his way back out and to the open plan lounge, his own clothes tossed carefully onto his shoes by the door. Jason had told him to put the TV on… and the worst he could do was say no.

Pulling up the streaming services, Danny went looking for And Just Like That. Mostly for curiosity’s sake, to be honest. He could probably sneak a trailer before Jason got back, just as a sample.

As if summoned by his thoughts, Jason appeared just as Danny found the right service, two steaming mugs of incredible smelling cocoa topped with a mass of whipped cream in his hands and a large bowl of popcorn, skittles, and smarties in his other arm.

Danny couldn’t even complain about not getting to have nice things, because if that wasn’t the epitome of a fantasy walking into the room he didn’t know what was. Hitting pause quickly, he hopped up to take the bowl for purely altruistic reasons.

Definitely not for an early handful, no matter how Jason raised his eyebrows at him. The handful was Danny’s reward for being a good citizen.

“Hey, that smells fantastic! Your family is gonna ruin me for shitty cafe hot chocolate,” he teased through a mouthful of candy.

Jason rolled his eyes but smiled, switching both mugs to one hand to set a trio of coasters on the coffee table. Danny reluctantly relinquished the bowl to the third if only to grab his cocoa and take a sip as Jason sniffed.

“Hot chocolate is to cocoa what instant coffee is to fresh,” he said snootily, like those were words that meant anything. Danny just stared at him, whipped cream on his nose purely for comedic effect.

Until Jason leaned in and wiped it away with his thumb, and Danny’s brain shut down. Unfortunate, since Jason started talking.

“So, uh… you a Sex and the City fan?”

“Huh?” Danny kept staring, pretty sure words had meanings until Jason jerked his thumb in the direction of the TV (which was huge and gorgeous because of course it was. This was the rich son of a bitch apartment Danny would expect of… okay, not a Wayne, it was still way below that level of fancy, but at least someone making a good chunk of change).

Then he shook himself out of it, grinning.

“Oh! No, never seen any.”

Jason cocked his head, eyebrow raised again.

“Then why…”

Danny shrugged, settling himself comfortably back into the couch. He was going to sound like a crazy person anyway, he might as well be comfortable.

“I listen to The Worst Idea Of All Time on my way to classes. And when I’m welding. It’s a couple of guys from New Zealand who watched Sex and the City 2 every week for a year, and a bunch of other stuff. Like, uh… Grown Ups 2, We Are Your Friends, oh and the first Sex and the City movie.”

And, sure enough, Jason looked appropriately baffled.

“What, all at once?”

“Nah, different years. They never did the actual show, but they’re doing commentary on all of the episodes of And Just Like That now that they’re out since they did both movies, which were after the show. Why, did you watch the actual show?”

Jason nodded slowly, and Danny snickered.

“The show’s not canon for the Worst Idea boys. Brady the Rat King is though.” And yeah, he probably could be explaining this more like a sane and reasonable person, but that just made the podcast sound worse.

This time it was Jason who raised both hands, even relinquishing his cocoa to do it.

“There are too many questions, so I’m just gonna start with “why?”” He was already smiling though, so Danny was going to take that as a good sign.

He shrugged cheerfully.

“Schadenfreude is the leading theory from the boys, and to be fair it is fun watching them suffer through the worst movies they can find. They’re both professional comedians though so it is actually really funny, and they’re really positive. Every watch has to have a shining light, which is something you actually liked about the movie that week. I did that with one of my lecturers last semester, a real blowhard, and it helped. Mostly it’s just the aural equivalent of comfort food; nothing challenging, no thought required, just two good soft boys making up crazy stories about movies every week.”

Jason was actually listening, pursing his lips as he considered what Danny was saying. Privately, Danny suspected having actually watched Sex and the City might work against him… although he might have been dead when at least one of the movies came out.

Finally, Jason sighed.

“So you’ve just watched the movies, and none of the show?” He asked, in a tone which told Danny exactly what he thought of the movies. So he might like the podcast after all.

Danny grinned and grabbed another handful of popcorn.

“Nah. They actively discourage us from watching them, even when they do directors commentary. And Just Like That isn’t getting the full season treatment though, so I kinda wanted to take a look just to see the outfits.” A stroke of inspiration struck him, and Danny dropped some of the popcorn into his cocoa.

Getting it back out again was not as easy as he’d have liked, but he got two pieces that were heavenly and was content to let the third wallow under the whipped cream where it had retreated.

Jason totally was not laughing at him, because he was a gentleman. It was the brilliance of Danny’s answers that had him smiling like that, for sure. And when he was sure he had Danny’s attention again, he pointed at him.

“Okay, we’ll watch And Just Like That tonight. But you have to come over and watch the original series at some point too,” he added quickly.

Danny pouted but considered it. He didn’t even know how many seasons there had been. Time for a counter offer.

“Only if you try the podcast.” Which was a totally reasonable offer and absolutely no reason for Jason to make that face as he nodded.

“Fine. I’ll give it a shot on my way to work. Happy?”

“Deeeeee-lighted,” Danny cackled, holding out a hand to shake. Which Jason obligingly shook, then nodded to the couch.

“No spoilers, okay? Unless there’s good hats. I’m just going to run and change.”

He even came back bearing a fuzzy throw from the end of the bed, which he dropped on Danny’s head and imperilled his precious cocoa. It was mostly empty by then though, and then Jason even refilled it for him, so Danny graciously gave him a royal pardon.

Jason graciously told him to shove it up his ass and settled in, and Danny swiped the remote for his impertinence. Long day now finally behind them, it was looking to be a much better night.

**

Taking a quick glance at both his League communicator and both of his phones, Bruce dismissed about thirty messages from Harley. He might have liked to talk to her earlier, and probably would actually message her back to talk later.

It had only been for a matter of minutes, but even a second of believing that Jason had died again… no. He knew he hadn’t handled it well. If he actually slept tonight, he had no doubt it would be even worse than usual, and plagued by nightmares.

Fortunately for him, he had a new case to distract himself with… or rather, a new direction for his existing case.

Diana was right; she usually was, in matters of the heart. He had to trust Jason, and trust that Jason knew what he was doing with this business in the Infinite Realms.

A year ago, Jason likely wouldn’t even have involved Bruce in the conversation, if it happened at all; he’d have dropped the evidence on Dick or Duke, or just gone around trying to blow up a rogue government agency on his own. That he had brought this to Bruce showed a lot of progress in their relationship. It gave him a reason to hope.

He would have to try and reward the trust Jason had shown in him, rather than punishing it. A proper apology, just between them… if Jason would speak to him.

A few days to give Jason time to calm down would probably help. And, if he was truthful, for Bruce to put his concerns to bed.

He may have been… hasty in leaping to conclusions about Danny Fenton. It wasn’t like him to become so entrenched in an opinion without checking it from at least a dozen more angles; the Mansons and Vlad Masters could only know so much.

Diana had been right again; he had to get to know Danny, to put his fears to rest. He trusted…

Okay. When it came down to it, he didn’t exactly trust his children not to lie to him about the dangers of a potential friend. There’d been one too many secrets-turned-disasters. But he could trust them to fact check and rat each other out if they truly believed their siblings were making a serious mistake.

For the joy of an “I told you so”, if nothing else.

Cass’s first impressions in her debrief had been illuminating. A little more discussion with her and perhaps Steph, their views were often varied enough that between them a very comprehensive picture could be built.

Talking to Danny himself again… Bruce knew himself well enough to know that wasn’t a good idea yet. It would have to happen eventually; he suspected he also owed Danny an apology for his behaviour, although no one else had mentioned it. Which was perhaps another sign of how badly he’d failed Jason.

No, he had to level his opinions on Danny first, make sure he could keep a clear head. Returning to the cave, he made his way directly to the batcomputer and sank into its familiar embrace.

Tim likely hadn’t had time to make the updates that would allow them to read through Amity Park’s data directly, but Tucker Foley had provided them with a respectable amount of downloaded data. Bruce could begin his researches there, and make some travel arrangements as well.

If he couldn’t get into Amity Park digitally, physically would have to do. Likely as Brucie Wayne rather than Batman, although repairing the town’s relationship to the Justice League was a worthy goal while he was there. And while people wouldn’t be as open to giving him information about Danny face to face, he could pick up some native tech and make his own adjustments. That should let him get past their unique protections.

And a better look at these ghosts, and an understanding of what exactly the Justice League Dark were so concerned about.

Hands pausing on the keys for a moment, Bruce briefly considered messaging Constantine again, or Zatanna. He should at least inform them that he was planning to go to Amity Park in person.

After a moment’s consideration, he sent a brief message to Zatanna. As unprofessional as it might be, Bruce knew himself well enough to know he just wasn’t up to spending any more time with Constantine at the moment.

Zatanna could brief him on any necessary etiquette just as well, with far less dramatics. A little space between himself and Constantine could only help as well. Honestly, a few days away from Gotham and all of his current headaches could only be a good thing.

Harley might even be proud of him.

——————

So here we have it! Also, by the way, that nexus thing is actually canon in the DC multiverse, and it is so much fun

[mangoisms]

i'll be the dangerous ledge (you be the parachute)

━ chapter seven: you be the parachute | read chapter six

━ pairing: tim drake x f!reader

━ word count: 4.2k

━ warnings: none

━ masterlist

After making a hearty dinner — tomato soup and grilled cheese like he did when you were hurt — you change out of your work clothes into something you’re more willing to get dirtied and you advise Tim to do the same. 

You have a specific pair of jeans that have several paint stains on them, as well as one streak of dark clay that refuses to leave. The same goes for your shirt, though with less stains and more just ratty and old, something you don’t mind getting dirty. Tim does the same, changing into an older pair of jeans and an old t-shirt from his time in high school. Though the both of you need to don windbreakers for the biting winds and drizzles of rain, you shed them when you enter the class, hanging them up along with your belongings and pulling aprons over your clothes.

Hana, the one who oversees the class, waves at you. “I don’t think we’ll be getting many people, so just help yourselves. You know where everything is and what to do.”

You give her a thumbs up and lead Tim towards the back of the class. A few other people are here but they are already working on their own things, talking softly to each other, voices drowned out by the spin of the wheels.

His eyes take in the class curiously. Several wheels are near you, along with some modeling stands and other desks for glazing and painting. You go over to the shelving unit at the back, where in-progress projects are kept. 

You have a little figurine of a duck that you made for him that needs to be painted and fired again after that. You aren’t sure if you can do it without him suspecting who it’s for, though. It’s a joke gift, really, after talking to one of the science aides about the lethal geese that hang around the Reservoir at Robinson Park and the considerably calmer ducks. It’s a birthday gift, though you’ve been thinking you want to do something else in addition to it, something a little more meaningful. You just haven’t found out what yet.

“So?” you prompt.

“What are you going to do?” 

“Not sure, to be honest. But for you… I think just to be safe, we should start you off with the molding stuff.”

He narrows his eyes slightly at the wheel, then the molding table. 

You smile. “Or, let me guess, you want to try your hand at throwing?”

“It can’t be that hard,” he says. 

This is a not-so-familiar side to him but one you’ve noticed regardless. Tim can be a bit… arrogant. Or at least, come into things assuming he can do it without issue. This, you guess, is a byproduct of the rich boy upbringing, which makes sense. Truthfully, it is not so bad compared to some of the other breeds of rich boy in this city but still. 

“I know you were reading how-to guides while we had dinner —” he opens his mouth to protest but a raise of your brow silences him, a slightly sheepish look coming over his face “— but it really isn’t as easy as it may seem.”

“Well, I have you,” he says, which flusters you — the intended effect, you think, by the small, satisfied smile that tugs at his lips.

“Alright, fine,” you mumble. You don’t try to get him to just sit down and wait for you to collect things, spying the curious look in his eyes, so you let him shadow you as you collect everything you — he — needs to get started.

“I want to make a mug,” he tells you when you ask, since you need to wedge and weigh out the clay. 

“Alright —”

“For you,” he adds, and you jolt. 

“You don’t need to —”

He says your name softly, stopping you. You two are close, with him hovering right near your elbow, body heat palpable in the scant few inches between your bodies. 

“I know I don’t need to,” he says. “But I want to. When are you going to understand?”

“After you make me a wonky mug, maybe,” you say, lips twitching to fight off a grin, face heating again.

Tim smiles, too, the lightest you’ve seen him today, like a weight physically taken off his shoulders — for the most part. 

Your heart skips a beat and you look back at the clay, weighing out a chunk for a mug. 

At the wheel with a bowl of water, towels, and the clay, you walk him through everything. You pull up a stool on his right side, to give you control of the pedal and thus, the speed. You run through sealing the clay to the bat — the actual surface of the wheel that spins — then centering it. After you make a divot in the center with your thumbs, you are ready to push into it, to start creating the walls.

Well, he is ready. Under your watchful eye and careful instructions, of course. And inserted reminders about his stance. 

“Elbows on your thighs.”

“You didn’t do it like that,” he complains but does as you say, anyway.

“I’ve been doing this longer than you,” you remind him, grinning. “Okay, come on. We can start making the walls now. Use your index and middle finger to slowly push down.”

Your foot finds the pedal again, the wheel humming as you press it, making it spin once more. 

Tim, hands now covered with wet clay, hesitates.

Your foot eases off. “I promise you, this clay is more scared of you than you are of it.”

“I’m not scared,” he mutters, but you know him. Tim Drake is a perfectionist. There is little that escapes his sharp eyes. You would wager a guess that he doesn’t want to mess up. And how can you mess up if you just… don’t touch the clay anymore?

Yeah, you get it. 

“Think of our ancestors. We’ve been making pottery for thousands of years. They made mistakes, too. Those mistakes are treasured now, you know.”

“But I don’t want to make a mistake. This isn’t for future anthropologists and archaeologists,” he says, a little petulant. “It’s for you.”

Oh, wow.

Your breath hitches in your throat. You clear it. 

“Well, perfection is a false ideal, anyway. The nice thing about things like this is that it’s handmade and that it’s not perfect. So, here.”

You lean forward, inserting yourself into his space (for the sake of this clay, that’s it) and pressing your hands over his. Your hands are covered in wet clay by now but because it’s still wet, it’s not too unpleasant. His hand is warm, too, which is… not what you should be focusing on.

“Like this,” you say, folding your index and middle finger over his, tilting your head sharply to get a good look at the clay. Your foot finds the pedal again and the wheel hums, abiding by your wishes for more speed. 

You instruct his other hand to hold against the outside, to help shape it more. But he hesitates again, so you scoot further into his space, until your knee is pressed to his, your arms brushing, and you can place your left hand over his. 

“Sorry,” you mutter. “I know I’m in your space.”

“I don’t mind,” he says quietly, breath ghosting over your ear and you have to suppress a flinch at how close he is. Everything about it makes your pulse jump to unhealthy heights but you force yourself not to let it carry you away. Trembling hands won’t help anyone right now. 

“Alright,” you say, and together, you slowly, slowly pull the walls to dimension. Every motion flows into the next. Two fingers to lower the bottom inside with his left hand. Three on the outside from his right hand. Tim is pliant under your instruction, when ordinarily you might expect some pushback.  

But you can’t do everything.

“Three fingers inside, one thumb outside. Gotta keep going while I grab the sponge.”

He grunts quietly in acknowledgement, seeming to focus more now as he does as you say. Your hands are only away from each other for a short few seconds as you grab the sponge, lightly pressing it to the bottom, pulling excess water to prepare to pull up the walls even further. 

“Here,” you say, and he takes the sponge from you, holding it still against the bottom of the clay. “Good. Keep it there. We’re in the home stretch now.”

He lets out a slow breath. You can feel the exhale against your cheek and resist a wild shiver. His breath smells like spearmint, the gum he’d chewed on the drive here. 

You swallow, staring at his hands, which doesn’t really help your pounding heart, just cause… Tim has really nice hands. Long, slender fingers, surprisingly calloused but still soft, somehow. The knuckle of his left pinky is a tiny bit wonky and he says he accidentally broke it playing football with a friend when he was a teenager and it didn’t heal quite right. 

You should stop thinking about his hands. Too bad that’s kind of a thing with pottery.

“Four fingers inside. Keep your thumb out.”

He says your name. “Help me out a little.”

“You’re doing good.”

“But I can do better if you’re guiding me,” he says, a little beseeching, breath warm against your cheek in a way that has your heart skipping a beat.

Jesus. 

You think you might spontaneously combust. It’s not the weirdest thing to ever happen in Gotham. And no one could blame you, either. Frankly, you’d like for anyone to be in close quarters with Tim Drake when he asks you to do something for him and try to say no. Or retain full function of their brain. Impossible. 

“You’re doing good, way better than I did on my first try throwing a mug, but alright,” you mutter, sliding your left hand over his, forcing you once more into close proximity with him. His right hand holds the sponge as you instructed. 

With his left hand, four fingers press to the inside and a thumb on the outside, helping further lengthen the walls slowly. 

You feel the fingers of his left land part just a little, yours nearly slipping through the gaps, and you knock your knee against his. Doesn’t affect him, either, since, ignoring your earlier reminder, his elbows aren’t sitting there anymore. 

“Don’t start.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You don’t need to,” you grumble, face heating. 

You know what he’s thinking about. That stupid scene from that movie from the, like, eighties. You know the one — the one with the… weirdly sensual pottery scene. Hana told you all about it on your first day of class. That that wasn’t how things went and if anyone did want to do it, they could do it in the privacy of their own home. Not, you know, in class with all of you.

And, to be clear, that isn’t what is happening here, either. He knows better than that.

(You think.

Probably.)

“I’m sorry,” he says, in a tone that tells you he is not very sorry at all; it’s teasing, if anything, in a way that makes you want to catapult yourself across the classroom to get a little space between you. 

That is the unbearable part of this. 

You kind of want to shove your stools back, put your hands on his cheeks, and kiss him for, you don’t know, a really long time. Forever, maybe. Of course, that’s not biologically possible but it’d probably be a nice way to die and in Gotham, crime capital of the United States and of horrible, miserable deaths, that’s, like, gold, right?

 The thought shrivels something inside of you, reminding you sharply of what did happen today. That six people are dead. 

You shove the train of thought away immediately. Now isn’t the time to think about that and you don’t want to set him off, either. This is about him and you would hate for him to notice the shift and start comforting you.

It’s a two-way street, you know that, and it’s fine for you both to be equally comforted but thus far, you haven’t been able to do much for him. You want to, though. He seems to be handling everything that happened today worse than you, for reasons you aren’t sure of, and you want to be there for him. 

Luckily, it seems like he didn’t notice. 

“Have you seen it? Ghost?”

“No, and I am not interested in seeing it,” you say matter-of-factly. “I’d like to keep my experiences with pottery untainted, thank you very much.”

Tim laughs and the sound goes straight to your head. Literally. He’s still close to you, so you feel the warm exhale from his lips, spearmint tickling your nose and making you want to do inappropriate things. To him, preferably. 

Anddd you don’t need to be thinking of that right now. Okay. Alright. You’re chill. You’re cool. 

“Look,” you say. “We’re nearly there. Just a little bit more length…”

He focuses again, actually concentrating on lengthening the walls of the mug now. A minute passes before you nod and pull your hands back. He does the same. Your foot eases off the pedal. 

You grab a ruler, recalling the measurements you two had agreed upon, and measure the height of the walls and the width of the cup itself. It’s bigger than a normal mug, but since he insisted on it being a mug you didn’t have to baby, it’ll have to be high fired to get that durability, which will make the clay shrink. 

Tim waits as you work, seemingly bracing himself.

“Looks good,” you say, pulling it back and setting it to the side, sending him a small smile. It does look good. The walls need to be smoothed with a rib and there’s one part of the rim that looks… a little wonky but it’s not bad. Not bad at all.

When Tim scrutinizes it, reaching forward, you gently push his hands away. “It’s fine.”

“But —”

“It’s cute.”

“Not the word I’d use.”

“And supposed to be mine, so, I think I get the final call.”

“You know what you are?”

“The soon-to-be proud owner of this mug?”

He doesn’t expect that and you know he doesn’t expect that because he flushes, pink rising in his cheeks in a… decidedly tempting manner. 

But of course, Tim Drake is not one to let himself be overtaken so easily. 

“No,” he says slowly, leaning forward, into your space, holy hell, you think you might actually spontaneously combust now as he gets close enough for you to see the silver flecked in blue irises, thick dark lashes framing them, the sharp but not unpleasant scent of eucalyptus clouding your senses and, huh, you know, this isn’t very platonic of him, not very platonic at all but the thought of Tim Drake flirting with you is a laughable one —

And naturally, as you think that and promptly freak out internally because it unfortunately makes logical sense, you are an adult, you’ve never been in a relationship but people have flirted with you before, thank you very much — well… Tim takes advantage of your brief moment of shock. So, you don’t see his hand dip into the bowl of water, softening the clay on his fingers and then —

“You’re bossy,” he finishes, eyes twinkling in a way that tells you he doesn’t seem to actually mind and then you’re gasping, jerking away as he smears some of wet clay on your cheek, facade breaking as he grins, the force of it making his eyes crinkle.

“What are you?!” you hiss. “Twelve?!”

You would know. 

He laughs, of course, and you can’t truly be mad at him, no, not at all, even if it’s the kind of messing around that Hana would side-eye you for, but fortunately she has her back to you two, deep in conversation with the few pairs of people who came to class today. 

Absolutely no one is paying attention to you, so, you think it’s only fair that you return the favor and he lets you, well-aware of you dipping your hand back into the water and then smearing an even bigger streak over his cheek. (While you also ignore the feeling of the soft skin, warm to the touch, warmer than usual, his flush having not left quite yet.)

And the fact that he lets you, watching you with a gaze full of affection and a mischievous grin, has the rapidly-unspooling warmth in your chest become too much. Like you are a star about to go supernova. 

But with that comes relief. To see him back to himself, no longer looking so… haunted. You can’t tell the full extent of what you would do to protect it, to protect a small bit of happiness for him to have whenever he needs, but you think it’s a lot. Anything short of murder, maybe.

(Even that depended, though.)

“Here,” you say, shoving the rib into his hand. “Smooth it out. You’re on your own now.”

Tim doesn’t protest, still smiling faintly as he does as you say. You scrunch up the side of your face, feeling the clay on your cheek. 

He does an okay job — not the worst, anyhow — and then you guide him through taking it off the bat and centering it upside down for trimming the bottom. After doing so, you work on pulling the handle just using the molding stand; instead of waiting for it to dry, you apply a little bit of heat, then you apply it to the mug. 

“That’s it?” he asks, going to the sink to wash his hands. 

“That’s it,” you affirm, putting the mug in the shelving unit right beside it. “It needs to be fired once before you can glaze it. Then again after that. You can come in whenever, just tell them you were with me.”

“Are you going to work on anything?” 

You hum thoughtfully, glancing at the clock. You got here at seven and it’s about to be eight. The center doesn’t close until ten but if he has places to be…

“I was just wondering,” he adds, stepping away from the sink to let you take his place, drying his hands on a paper towel. Clay is still smeared on his cheek, grey standing out against the pale skin. “That way I can help. Or watch if you’re tired of my… amateur efforts. Either way. This is… nice.”

You soften considerably at that, glancing down at your hands, watching the clay fall away under the warm water and soap. After everything… you think you finally have an idea about what you want to do. 

“You can help me, then. Think I’d like to make a mug as well.”

Tim nods and tears another piece of paper towel, running it briefly under the water, presumably to clean the clay from his cheek. 

You finish washing your hands just as he finishes cleaning the clay off his cheek. Your hands will get dirty again but the clean feel is a nice break before you do. 

You dry your hands, then, still using the damp paper towel, attempt to clean the clay off your cheek. 

Tim snorts quietly. 

“Am I close?”

“No.”

“Aw.” 

He smiles and holds out a hand. You relinquish the paper towel to him and he dampens it under the water, then reaches up to press it to your cheek. 

You resist letting tension take hold of you as his eyes focus on your face. Like always, you are unused to the sharp attention he gives you but part of you is endeared, too, seeing him dedicate himself to the task. Tim doesn’t do things in halves. Only absolutes. It’s not great for your heart.

To distract yourself, your eyes stray to where his streak was once. The skin is clean, but this close, you spot a few leftover flakes of grey clay. 

“There,” Tim says, gently patting your cheek with the dry end of the paper towel.

“You’ve still got some,” you mumble, taking the paper towel from him and switching to a cleaner patch on the damp side, then gently dabbing his cheek. 

“Thanks,” he says, his eyes on your face, the look there making your heart pound out of rhythm. 

You pull back, not as gentle as he was about patting the spot dry — his cheeks are still warmer than usual; the thought of it being because of you is a dizzying one — then toss the towel. 

“Ready?” you ask, fixing your apron.

Tim clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck when you glance at him, his gaze elsewhere. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s do it.”

“Right.”

You two spend another hour there throwing the mug. Tim is the one sitting adjacent to you this time, helping in the beginning but seeming to settle as you go on, apparently happy to just watch you do your thing. 

You… try to prod about any preferred glazes or designs, mostly by asking what he thinks would look good, and you get some useful bits of information that you’ll be able to use the next time you come here. Or, well, sometime after that. This mug requires a bit more work than usual. At least for what you have in mind for it. 

But it should be ready by the time July rolls around. 

The sun has set when you two step out. The rain isn’t coming down as hard as earlier but it’s still drizzling, making streets and sidewalks glisten under street lamps and traffic lights. 

In a considerably better mood than earlier, the two of you stop at O’Shaughnessy’s for a shake and fries, then return to Rose Oaks. You keep the food at your place while he heads up to change and you do the same. You check on the boys while you wait for him to return, finding Manny and Diego climbing into the little shelf on the side, while Sid dips in the saltwater pond.

You smile faintly and go back to the couch. On the coffee table, for once clear of schoolwork as you are officially caught up before finals, the bag of fries sits next to the drink carrier, holding two medium chocolate shakes.

Tim returns a few minutes later, letting himself in with the spare key he has, now dressed in sweats and a black t-shirt that stretches flatteringly over his shoulders. 

In the mood for something light and nostalgic, you switch on Ice Age, the two of you relaxing on the couch and eating your dessert. Sleepiness weighs down on you with more time that passes. 

Tim finishes his shake and fries after you, leaning forward to set them on the coffee table. When he sits back, he is closer to you, your arms pressed together. The warmth of his body and the faint scent of eucalyptus lulls you. It doesn’t help that you shut off the lights, the only light coming from the TV, showing the white snowscapes from the movie.

The sound of your name is a surprise but not unwelcome. Especially not from him and how he says it, syllables wrapped in a sleepy kind of warmth. He’s tired, too. You understand. Even if he may have been at his place for most of the day, it must’ve been emotionally draining to deal with everything else.

You lean your head on his shoulder, eyelids heavy with sleep. “Yeah, Timmy?”

His hand finds yours in your lap, slightly calloused fingers gliding against yours, a softer palm following. 

You feel his head lean against yours. “Thank you. For today.”

“Thank you for letting me do it for you.”

Tim squeezes your hand and you think he’ll pull back.

He doesn’t.

Instead, with some movement, you find the blanket thrown over the back of the couch now draped over your laps. 

With his hand in yours, the comforting scent of eucalyptus surrounding you in tandem with his body heat, you surrender too easily to the pull of sleep.

(Later, in the early morning when the sun hasn’t risen but is just about to break the horizon, you stir, not finding yourself in your bed like last time but instead held tightly in his arms, your legs tangled beneath the blanket which isn’t really necessary, with the body heat he emanates. In his sleep, Tim breathes slow and soft, warm exhales of air tickling the skin of your forehead as you two share a pillow. And too sleepy and warm to care, you burrow into his arms, which tighten around you in his sleep, close your eyes, and drift back to off to dreamland.

A few hours later, you’ll wake again, but alone this time, disappointment gnawing at you at the realization. 

At least until the bathroom door opens and Tim steps out, his hair mussed, pillow creases still on his cheek, and he bids you a sleepy smile and asks what you want for breakfast.

And this is when you will realize you are past the point of no return. But you don’t care that the chances of him returning your affections are so laughably low that it actually isn’t funny. You don’t care about any of that. You just care to keep him around. For as long as you possibly can.)

reblogs are appreciated!

[kisscara]

O7. manager faruzan [fanboy!scaramouche x drummer!reader] ⎯⎯ heartbeat rhythm series

a/n: each paragraph with the members are a separate intreview. this is a filler chapter fixating on what faruzan is like and what 5O5 thinks about her.

"madam faruzan?"

yun jin, feeling her curiosity peak, repeats back what the person behind the camera said to her. the camera man nods, "yes, what do you think about your manager?" yun jin awkwardly giggles before sighing.

you exclaim at the cameraman, "madam faruzan!? oh, i like her a lot! besides the fact that she's on the eccentric side and tends to follow wherever we go and somehow finds out our private accounts on social media, she's cool! we've known her since high school, so it makes everything much more fun."

yun jin rubs her chin, "she can be privacy invading." the cameraman chuckles, "how so?" yun jin puts a leg over the other and hums. "let me see, how would i explain this..."

yoimiya laughs, "madam faruzan's okay. she's uptight but she always has the best band activities planned out for us! although, she does startle me a lot. this one time i was walking to a cafe and-"

"i literally see her with binoculars, hiding behind a pole!" hu tao frantically gestures, "that girl is on something! not to mention, she's like a super spy. she always knows what we're doing at any given time."

ayaka kindly says, "whenever i'm spending time alone outside, madam always happens to be there. she's looking out for all of us and i appreciate her service."

as you can figure out from what the members have commented about their most lovely manager, faruzan does seem to be a little too interested in the band members' private lives and activites, thus explaining how faruzan found out that you gave scaramouche a private performance. (see chapter five for clear up)

faruzan is strict with the way she works and is frequently seen barking orders at 5O5. across the web and within articles, she wears pencil skirts pairing with a white button up, and her pale teal hair is bunched up into a bun. faruzan is also close friends with the rest of her classmate prodigies that graduated high school early just like her.

those prodigies being alhaitham, tighnari and albedo. they may or may not be featured in this story in the near future...

but faruzan's mean demeanor is a mere exterior for the inner fangirl that proudly lives inside her mind. that's correct, madam manager faruzan is obsessed with the very band she manages.

it started when she was still in high school and her brilliant brain boosted her to her last year as a thirteen-year-old. she stumbled upon your band's practice in the music room when you five weren't doing live performances just yet.

yun jin had asked for her opinion on their performance and faruzan was more than happy to give them her perspective, but she wasn't one to sugarcoat things. during that time, she instantly pointed out all of their flaws and the things they should change to play even better.

yun jin was overjoyed about it; she loves some good constructive criticism. when faruzan graduated that year, she vowed an oath to become their manager and she did, just a year later after applying for a job at Inazuma's TEYVATMUSiC live house.

even though faruzan is the youngest by a year, she leads these six, including yanfei, to a great future in their music career... but she should work more on giving them space rather than following them around 24/7.

tags: @mariusvonhangme @scaramoo @mikismusings @rizakari @akagism2 @sakiimeo @ohmyfinggod @aethersluvrr @scarafrisbee @kaoyamamegami @liliumaraneae @dreamsofminnie @starfart19 @kunisbeloved @luhvashh @makiswrld @kyouzki @mimissubway @loucaroarz @theblueblub @angelunatic @shinjuuz @thenightsflower @coquettemaiden @thefandomcrow @cotton-eee @lovely028 @hrtswinter @duckyyyx @kissingkzuha @dazaisboner @adeptusx @tomotofu @yukiipc @loverhole @star583 @soobasaur @dr8amy @scaraapologist @raideneiari @rvoulte @aaeng121 @pyrrhicgaze @tjjjrsj @enviouspeanut @d4y-dr3am3r @aromaticism @undecidingfate @idontwantoeatspicy

taglist is now closed as i've reached the max tags in a single post. (50/50 tags occupied + officially removed users whose names aren't linked)

what happens when you, a talented and well-known drummer across the web, grow an intense crush for the student council president, who's also your number one fan? from annoying sisters to nosy bandmates, the next event that happens is always more chaotic than the last!

© kisscara

[snowblossomreads]

Verse Six: So I Gave Myself Over Willingly

Previous Chapter: I Never Knew My Killer Would Be Coming From Within

Summary: In where Severus opens a closed door, and [Y/n] closes it. (Or in where [Y/n] has the chance to escape but doesn't)

Pairing: Severus Snape x FemReader

Tag(s)/Warning(s): Angst (of course), Despair, Manipulation, Breaking Down, Smut [Dub-con/coercion, penetrative sex, oral (fem receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, pet names, begging]

Word Count: 12K (it's what you guys deserve)

A/N: Hits post and runs. Jk So that took waaaay longer than expected and I'm sorry 😭😭 Life has been doing some things so it's been tough to write but here we are!! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter though bc it was a tough binch to write because I had to wrap basically everything up in it so sorry if it feels a little discombobulated.. Buckle up though and make sure ur necks are sturdy so you don't get whiplash from this chapter (granted the previous one was more whiplashy i think, sorry?). But still, enjoy and I'll see you at the end!

A/N+: AND I know I said I would throw the last two chapters up at once but I lied 😅😅🤣 you guys have waited too long and deserve something so here you go!

MINORS DNI

Something had changed after that night.

After spending all her time existing within the four walls of the room she had been stored in since she was taken, [Y/n] was now being allowed to take her meals in the kitchen. Still being supervised of course but nonetheless, she was out of that room even if only for a little while.

Snape had also given her permission to stay in the living room while he was there and at first, she had refused and made a hasty retreat back into the room unnerved by his presence.

Yet he was persistent, repeatedly asking her until she relented and found herself just sitting quietly on the sofa near him as he read or worked in that tall wingback chair of his.

Additionally, he had bought her some new clothes to wear only a few days after that incident saying a change of clothing may make her feel better. Considering that she only had the clothes that were on her back when she came it would have made sense.

Maybe it would make her feel better in the dizzying situation she was in. But it didn’t. Especially when each article of clothing fit her just right. It only made her more anxious, more nauseated.

The change of his demeanor towards her was absolutely bizarre, frightening in a way that she couldn’t put a finger on. Not only did he take her hostage and then force her into deprave acts, but now he was being pleasant, even kind to her like he didn’t do those fucked up things to her. 

And it hadn’t sat well with her, this inexplicable shift, and it caused her stomach to tighten in discomfort, a pang of nausea washing over her each time she awoke. Yet as the uncountable days started to pass and the strange sort of pleasantry became familiar, expected almost, she found that her already exhausted psyche was becoming more confused.

It became worse as he began to allow her to leave that room of her own accord. Granted she knew he was watching, and if not him then Wormtail was. She was at least thankful that she had hardly seen that particular man around since the earlier encounter with him. 

But even with that she still felt frightened at her situation. Who wouldn’t be knowing that they had nowhere else to go? Trapped with a person who seemed to have two sides to them and was seemingly manipulating everyone around them. 

Herself included. 

These thoughts of fear and wariness swirled in the depths of her mind every single day that she had been there and it was absolutely exhausting.

So it was when he brought up going outside with him at the kitchen table where they sat, him reading the Daily Prophet while she picked at her breakfast, that she couldn’t help but be stunned into silence. Though it wasn’t as if she was talkative in the first place with him.

“I’m going into a muggle village today for some items.”

“Oh.”

Head tilted downwards, she barely acknowledged what he had said as her eyes gazed blankly at the food in her bowl while she swirled it absentmindedly with her spoon. Why would she care that he would be gone? All it meant was that she would be locked up again within the four walls of that room.

“Would you like to accompany me?”

The circular motion of the spoon stopped immediately at his words and for a split second so did her breathing. Accompany him outside? What kind of sick game was he playing at? To dangle such an offer out to her knowing to be outside and free was the only thing she had wanted since she had been there. 

To offer such a thing only for it to probably be snatched away the moment she answered in the affirmative. It was cruel. But what more could she expect from him? Her silence had Snape peering over the paper in his hand one eyebrow raised as he studied her frozen form.

“Or would you prefer to be kept here?”

Yet, even those thoughts of him toying with her couldn’t stop the outburst that left her in a panic when he interrupted her spiraling. 

“No!”

Head shooting up from its bowed position, [Y/n] watched as his eyebrows quirked up at her and the uncharacteristically lively way she had answered. And if she could see behind the paper that was partially obscuring his face, she would have seen thin lips drawn up into a minuscule smirk. 

Warmth prickled at her skin as she dropped her head back down, trying to avoid his examining gaze that she could still feel on her. It almost made her wish that she was still in that room because the crawling sensation he made her feel was unbearable at times. This being one of those times

“No, I meant I would like to come,” she began while gingerly dragging her fingers up and down her thighs trying to soothe herself before more quietly adding, “it’s been a while.” 

Falling silent after giving him an answer, the only sound between them was him turning the page of the newspaper causing it to rustle, and the white noise that she had become all too used to in this place. 

Moments passed in that silence and each one had her stomach tightening, her heart dropping and fingers digging into her legs as the chance of going outside seemed to grow further and further away each second he didn’t acquiesce. Who was she playing though? Did she really think he would let her accompany him outside? Truly-

“If that’s so,” he muttered looking at her barely touched bowl of food, “I advise you to hurry along with your meal. We leave in ten minutes and I expect you’ll need all of your strength.”

Looking up and going to meet his gaze, [Y/n] was only met with the moving pictures on the front page of the newspaper before going to stare down at her food. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been actually hungry as her diet consisted mostly of fear that left her unwilling to eat. 

But with the promise of going outside, and maybe, just maybe having a chance of freeing herself, she forced herself to eat the meal that was empty of taste and warmth.

It had taken her almost the full ten minutes to finish her food, and Snape had no problem inserting a remark here or there as time ticked closer. 

‘Hm, to think the promise of a walk outside was all you needed to be more responsive. How quaint.’

‘I’m almost done with this page and I would hurry if I were you.’

And as much as it would rattle her when he vaguely threatened to take away that chance of freedom, it had worked because the moment he closed the newspaper, she was staring at him, bowl empty and eyes pleading.

“Well then,” he said, placing the paper down, getting up, and walking beside her seated form before looking down at her. “Shall we?

The moment she felt the warm breeze fluttering across her face, [Y/n] felt a tight ball of emotion begin to work its way up from her stomach before it sat heavily in her chest. 

Tears that she had thought were long shed attempted to prick at her eyes again as even in the gloominess of wherever this house was, she could still see that there were trees that had bright greenery adorning them. 

Greenery that had not been on any plant the last time she had been outside. How long had passed since she had been gone? After the first few weeks, she could barely keep up with time as it had been the least worrying thing on her mind.

“Now,” Snape’s voice broke her out of her thoughts and she flinched when she felt his fingers tightly enveloping her wrist. Looking up at him she was met with a raised brow. “I’m sure I don’t have to remind you but for your sake know that any funny business will get you nowhere. Understand?”

Funny business? And if she attempted any of that, what would he do? Kill her in front of all the muggles? Surely even he couldn’t obliviate all those people if he wanted to and even so he wasn’t at all stupid to cause a scene. 

No, that would be too simple, and with the glint in his dark eyes, [Y/n] could tell that it indeed would not be the case. So she couldn’t help but nod in agreement, a timid,

“Yes,” leaving her as even in the warm air a chill seemed to run down her spine at the look he gave her. Something told her a quick death would not be in store for her if she did try to do anything.

Seemingly pleased by that answer, he pulled her with him into the alleyway that divided the two buildings, not paying attention to the way she stumbled behind him before stopping in place. It almost caused her to bump into him yet he didn’t seem at all phased as he glanced around the area for any other sight of life.

“Hold on tight.”

His words were the last thing she heard before a squeak fell from her lips as he dropped her hand from his hold only to wrap his arms tightly around her. 

Head snapping up to look at him she felt a wave of nausea replace the feeling in her stomach as the sound of wind shrilled in her ear and her body felt as if it was being squeezed tightly. 

The vision of trees, the sky, and muggle machines passed by her in a whirlwind before a barely audible pop rang in her ear and they were standing upright again on solid ground.

Feeling his arms release her, [Y/n] made a step forward before a wave of nausea had her stumbling a bit. 

‘Perks of not apparating for a long time.’

She thought to herself as her hand flew blindly to the side to grab onto the wall to keep herself from falling flat onto the ground.  But instead of meeting the hard stone of the ground, she felt an arm wrap around her waist pulling her back gently.

“Tsk, steady you silly thing,” Snape murmured as his hand drifted to her lower back causing a shiver to climb up her spine at his firm touch.

“I’m fine.” She lied, gulping down the uneasy feeling bubbling in her stomach and turning back to look at him. For a moment when her eyes laid on him, she swore she saw an amused smile tug at his lip before it fell.  

Letting her go, he watched her take another step forward, less unsteady this time and more grounded.

“Thank you.” Her words of gratitude held hesitation and he merely shrugged before walking past her not even looking to see if she would follow.

“Mhm, come along then.”

Watching his back face her she began to follow in his footsteps not once even thinking to turn the other direction or apparate herself away from the place mind still hung on his words from earlier.

Venturing out of the alleyway they apparated into and blending in with the muggles, she followed him silently toward the many stands that lined the area.

It was lively. Crowded with muggles of all ages as they spoke to the sellers behind tables or stands while looking at the different wares that were being sold and trading banter amongst each other.

The noise of the conversations in the area had her wincing a bit, her senses no longer used to so much racket as it had been forever since there had been so many people around her.

She wondered, just briefly as they stopped in front of a stand selling a variety of produce and herbs, what they would do if they knew that a witch and wizard were only feet from them. 

Buying items just as they would acting as if this was an everyday occurrence for them even though it was not. Because it wasn’t every day someone's captor willingly brought them out. 

Eyeing him for a second, [Y/n] began to look around the area. Taking in the sights and people silently as Snape droned on to the merchant standing at the stall. 

Everyone there seemed to be so happy, exuberant in the sunlight that was pounding down on them as they went about their business. Children playing around as parents tried to corral them together. Teenagers hanging out with others speaking loudly and laughing. 

There was a joyful mood all around her. Yet she felt none of that joy while scanning the horizon. Even when her eyes landed on a figure standing on the far opposite of the stall they were at. 

Hands placed in their pocket as they watched over the people going and coming. The person looked most out of place with how stiff and uncomfortable they were. 

It was written all over their body how they didn’t seem to know how to act around all the people. Additionally, the clothes they wore didn’t match any of the muggle styles that the other people had on. No, it was more something a witch or wizard would wear thinking muggles would wear the same. 

And it was the same mistake that a lot of the trainees made during her time in Auror training. Failing to disguise oneself probably. All that to say the person she was staring at and who was currently failing their training was an Auror. 

Not a full fledged Auror no. But one in training at least and probably currently working on their concealment and disguise ability considering how easy it was to spot how out of place they were. 

That also meant that a real Auror, one that she may have worked with before or known, was here. Watching the student and also paying attention to their surroundings. 

Knowing that, it was as if her brain had suddenly snapped back on, words written almost in big red letters scrawled across her mind telling her to:

Run.

She could do it if she truly wanted to. Escape. Make a scene and attract the Auror's attention. She didn’t have to stay with the man who at the moment was paying no mind to her.

Yes, if she could just get the attention of the trainee somehow without Snape noticing her she would be free! Her heart raced at the thought. Eyes almost welling up with tears yet doing her best to tamp down any emotion that would bring his attention to her.

Scanning the area she tried to determine who was who if there was at least a friend in the area that she had not seen and vice versa. Of course, she didn’t think it would be easy looking for a trained Auror who would be perfectly disguised yet as she looked and searched she saw nothing. 

Saw no one looking at her or paying her any mind. No, everyone continued to go on their way enjoying their time out as they passed by happy and unaware that danger lurked around the corner. 

And then a thought hit her square in the face. If she ran, if she made a scene. What would happen to the muggles around her? Surely Snape was not going to just let her go. She wasn’t naive to believe that considering if she was found he would be receiving a one way ticket to Azkaban.

No, he would make sure she didn’t leave here alive regardless of any of the muggles around. What were a few muggle lives to avoid being sent to probably one of the worst places a witch or wizard could go? As that thought came another reared its head. What would happen to her if she got away? 

There was no doubt in her mind she would be brought back to the Ministry and questioned about all she had seen and all that happened. But what then? 

Let her go and go on about her life? 

Go home?

To an empty house that had death soaked into its walls and floor? 

What about the large target on her back she was sure she would have the moment she ran for it? Even if she was lucky and escaped, she would have to hide from Death Eaters until a day when they were no longer a threat.

Sure she could have other Aurors around her protection, or maybe stay at the Ministry for an indefinite time until it was safe but when would that happen? What made her so sure that any of the Aurors could protect her even if they tried? She had seen how the Death Eaters wiped out her team with ease so how would just a few Aurors work against them? 

And if she stayed at the Ministry what would happen if  You-Know-Who got the reign of terror he wanted? It would have all been for nothing. 

These thoughts bounced in her brain over and over spinning tangled webs of scenarios of how her running would turn out. And the frightening part was that they all seemed to lead down a road of living in despair, fear, and every so often death.  

“[Y/n]?”

Having been drowning in those thoughts, she hadn’t recognized her name being called, eyes glazed over as she stared at the spot where the Auror to be once stood. 

But they were no longer occupying that spot, no longer close enough to see and she had realized at that moment she had missed her chance. Missed her way to freedom that had been so close yet held away from it by a fear that had seemed to come from nowhere.

“[Y/n].”

The firmness in his voice along with feeling his hand landing on her lower back jolted her out of her trance, her eyes landing on him as tears pricked at her eyes. 

“Yes?” She whispered, the fire and adrenaline of seemingly almost free leaving her and being replaced with a hollowed out feeling that made her feel almost ill.

“You seemed tired,” he started, eyebrow raised as he examined her features, no doubt seeing how glassy her eyes were, “I think that is enough, no?”  

For a moment there was a silence between them that seemed to suck all the noise around them away before she answered him.

“Yes…I think so too.”  

The hand that he had placed on her back slipped down and away from her before she felt his digits brush her limp ones. A sense of unease usually filled her whenever he touched her like this, yet now she felt nothing. 

Instead, she made no effort to pull away like usual when he went to envelop her trembling hand with his own steady and firm grip allowing him to guide them back to the alleyway they had arrived from and apparating back to his home. 

When they returned, the rest of the day had been spent in a silence that was normal for them now. But they both knew another change had occurred. One that she didn’t want to acknowledge as it would make it real, and one he didn’t want to force out of her because well, there was no gain in that.

So when she was summoned from her room after skittering back into it almost voluntarily when they returned, Snape couldn’t help but truly examine her slumped form as she entered the kitchen. The longer she had been holed up in this place, the more her body language showed how physically tired she was. 

Dark circles had long painted themselves under her eyes from the tormenting nightmares that stayed with her from morning to night. Not even in her dreaming, where one should be able to at least forget what the day brought, had she been safe from his entrapment as she had found out quickly enough. 

Yet he still could tell that even through all of it, that there had been a fighting spirit in her. A defiance that burned and a naive hope that she would get out of the situation that she had landed herself in. 

But this weariness she showed to him at the moment seemed different. There was no light in her eyes. No amount of defiance radiated from her as she quietly sat across from him, not even acknowledging the food in front of her. 

There was nothing. Just her and him in a world that probably no longer acknowledged that she had been a part of it. Not when she had been missing for so long without as much of a trace of where she had gone to. 

Not that the Ministry would ever find one that is. 

It was Snape that broke the silence between them just as he had done that morning, eyes squarely on her as she finally began to pick at her food. 

“I hope that I can bring you out again.”

A simple statement that needed no responding to. Not that he was expecting one from her as she mindlessly brought a spoonful of food to her mouth.

“I don’t care for it but it seems to do you well.”  

He continued, bringing his cup up towards his lips to drink from while just taking in the sight of her sagging shoulders and how her eyes stared pointedly at the bowl in front of her. 

“Why didn’t you try to run?”

That finally seemed to have captured her attention as her hand froze midway through scooping up the food in her bowl. For a moment she stayed that way not looking up at him, eyes still glued on the meal in front of her. 

Not one to enjoy repeating himself, he waited, giving her time to fill the silence with her answer.

“What do you mean?”

Her voice was barely above a whisper as she kept her face low while the grip on her spoon tightened.

“Don’t play dumb with me,” he sneered, tone laced with annoyance yet devoid of any real malice towards her as he continued. “Do you not think I know an Auror when I see one? You all are hardly as inconspicuous as you try to make yourself be.”

Silence blanketed them again but this time there was a tension in it like a tightly wound knot that was about to unravel or an invisible crackle in the air that only needed a spark to ignite. And the spark came with his next words.

“You had your chance yet here you are still,” Snape pointed out eyes still on her, “surely a mind as brilliant as yours knows why.”

“I don’t know.” 

“You don’t…know?”

There was an incredulous quality in his tone as he repeated the weak response that she had given. 

“Is that all…you don’t know?” He asked, watching as her sagging shoulders tensed up as she placed the spoon that she had held so tightly down.

“Maybe,” she murmured almost inaudibly, lifting her head revealing a pointed glare at him while trying to hold in the tears that had been burning in her eyes since they had returned. “Maybe it was because I was worried about the muggles that were there who might get hurt if something happened,” she answered, voice shaking yet gaining in volume. 

“Or maybe it’s because if I ran, and managed to escape somehow  I wouldn’t even be able to sleep, wouldn’t be able to live because I’m scared some Death Eater is going to come barreling through my door trying to kill me like they did my parents and brother!”

A shrill tone had seeped its way into her voice as [Y/n] suddenly shot up from her chair, knocking it backward with a loud clatter that she ignored as she stomped over to him. Unflinchingly, he watched her approach him, his expression neutral as he watched a range of emotions twist her features before it stopped at one. 

Despair.

Slamming her hands on the edge of the table causing the dinnerware to shake she stood over him, tears beginning to stream down her face. “Or is it,” her breath hitched, “i-is it because I know when I go home, there will be no one? Absolutely no one there. Because of me.” 

“Does that make you happy?” She shouted her voice cracking from the intensity as her body trembled with the grief that she had been carrying for months at that point. 

Refusing to wipe the tears out of her eyes she stared at him with her blurred vision. His expression was fixed the entire time she had been screaming at him, unaffected by her cries and tears and it wasn’t unexpected. There was no twitch of his lips, no raise of a brow like he would usually have done. 

Nothing.

He just sat there cold and distant as she broke into a million pieces in front of him. It shouldn’t have hurt her so much yet she couldn’t help the sudden weakness that seized hold of her limbs. Weighing her down as any strength from her was sapped. 

“Is that what you wanted to hear me say?” She whispered before her shaking legs gave out causing her to collapse on the floor in a weeping pile. Hands coming up to bury her face in them as sob after choked sob was pulled out from her while she trembled and cried.

“My family,” she rasped, her voice loud and raw filled with the agony that maybe if she had been more careful all of this would have never happened and her family and friends would have been still alive. Gasping for air, she tried to speak yet it was too much, all of it was just too much.

Instead of words, a cry left her lips that was immensely piercing as she lunged forward, arms wrapping around herself as she wept. It had been so ear-splitting that it covered the sound of Snape’s chair scraping against the ground before he was next to her on the floor. 

Arms finding their place around [Y/n] he dragged her close to him in an embrace as his hand began to stroke circles on her lower back. Yet as comforting as embraces were supposed to be, this one only had her sobbing louder as she stayed in his arms too tired and distraught to try and fight him away.

“Why, why did this have to happen,” she gasped out trying to claw back as much air into her lungs as she could, “if I- if I would have just died that day they-they-.”

Unable to finish her thought as her mind swirled over and over with guilt about everything that had happened, another noisy cry left her body as she sunk completely into his embrace no longer caring that he was holding her.  

It was all just too much.

“Shh enough of that now.” Snape hummed as she shuddered with each shaky breath she took trying to regain some control over her emotions. 

Cooing at her, he continued to rub small circles on her lower back as if trying to comfort her, his voice low and silky as he whispered in her ear. “There was nothing you could have done to save your family [Y/n] you did your best. ” 

Had she been thinking clearly and not being strangled with the unrelenting thoughts of her failures, she would have cursed at him, hit him, and pushed him away yet all she did was continue to cry as she listened to him speak. 

“But even though they are no more,” he murmured softly, his lips ghosting against her ear causing her breath to become more uneven and her skin to prickle, “I would think they would prefer their daughter to be in capable hands, no? Someone who could take care of you and keep you from the same harm that came upon them,” he continued, lips caressing over the juncture of her neck as he spoke. “It would make them happy, wouldn’t it? And you’ve always done what you could to make them happy right?”

Pausing his speech, he pulled away to look at her yet her eyes stayed lowered as her mind reeled with the implications of his words. Without him, she would be alone having been her only contact with the world for a while not including today. 

Though even when she was out there she had felt utterly alone even when surrounded by those people. Even when she could have escaped, her thoughts always seemed to have ended back to Snape. Whether it be what he would do to others or what he would do to her to make her stay. 

So if she escaped, she would be in danger for an undetermined amount of time. But if she stayed at least she would be safe from the wrath of any Death Eater. He had also been kinder to her recently as if trying to wipe the memories of earlier on away. It was strange but it had been welcomed even if she had been on edge about it. 

But fighting him all this time didn’t work, it was never going to work and she knew that from the moment she was given to him and he refused to let her go. And she was utterly exhausted, waking up every day with little to no autonomy along with the fear of him just getting tired of her resistance and outright killing her once his patient facade ran out.

So it was okay, right? Okay, for her to accept it, to ease the suffering that was crushing her heart, suffocating her, and clouding her mind every day. Okay to do something to avoid the pain the future would no doubt bring if she didn’t accept it. Right?

You don’t have to fight anymore. Just stay. 

Dimmed eyes finally turned to look at him, tears still clinging to her eyelids as she gazed up at the concerned expression that he wore. That was a first. To see any other look from him other than contempt, or just pure uninterest.  

“Y-you, won’t let them hurt me?” She stuttered out, looking into his dark eyes that seemed to dig into her mind as she bargained with herself.

With a shake of his head, he leaned down slightly closing some distance between them before bringing a hand up to caress her tear-stained cheek softly. 

It was almost lovingly the way the back of his palm slid against her skin. Slowly, with no haste in his movement which caused a shiver to crawl up her spine and a knot to begin to grow in her stomach as he captured her attention with his words and actions.

“Never,” his voice was no louder than a murmur, it was deep, and dark as it vibrated inside her while his lips neared her ear. “No witch or wizard will ever be able to hurt you [Y/n],” he whispered, causing her breath to hitch at his closeness, at the way his voice seemed to seep deeper into her causing something in her body to awaken. “Let me keep you safe, isn’t that what you wanted all this time? To be safe?”

Safe. 

She had hardly known what that felt like for so long. To be safe. To not wake up and fall asleep worried about what would happen to her. To not have to consider what would happen to her if she did run away. 

No, if she stayed put at least she would have some idea of what was to come for her. At least in this hell, she knew the devil who ruled it, and what he wanted from her. 

If he had wanted to kill her, he would have done that months, weeks, or days ago. He had every chance to. However, here she was with his arms wrapped around her, body pressed against hers, and what seemed to be a sincere look on his face. 

One that lulled her into a stillness, had her shoulders slumping and had the last drops of tears being blinked away. As inaudible as the way her resolve shattered in front of them, it was the same as the word that fell quietly from her lips.

“Okay.” 

It was so hushed that had he not been close to her, had there been any other noise right before she spoke neither of them would have heard it. 

Her voice was unrecognizable to herself as she gazed up at him, the realization of her signing away her freedom to him long buried in the depth of her mind. Because what was signing something away that you didn’t have in the first place?

“I’ll stay, I won’t try to run or leave again,” [Y/n] whimpered, as she searched his face for any sign of understanding, “ so please just, just…” 

Her words trailed off as her mind replayed his vile words to her in the beginning. The assaults, the sleeplessness, and invading of her own mind to twist it and doubt the feelings she had. Yet somehow all of that began to be clouded over with a strange relief.

Relief born out of knowing that by accepting to stay she would never have to face that again. Never have to face danger again. Just stay and exist. 

The thought itself was pleasant. Something she had wanted even if this was not the way she thought she would get it.

As if he could understand her without words, Snape simply nodded. 

He went to stroke her cheek once more while the arm already wrapped around her drew her closer to him in a firm and protective grip. Warmth radiated from their bodies as they sat near each other, [Y/n] almost on his lap as she clinged to him like a sort of lifeline. 

A sight to behold for both of them if they saw it from another view, as Snape leaned his head down towards her, his lips skimming against her forehead ghosting over the skin before hovering just inches away from hers. 

There was a tremble in her, yet she didn’t pull away, didn’t try to rip herself from him in disgust and realization. Instead, her fingers tightened their grip on his shirt as she swallowed before tilting her head up just enough that their lips brushed against each other. 

Her movement was all it took before Snape was pressing his lips lightly against hers. Sealing their pact as he dropped the hand from her cheek and took hold of her with both arms. 

Their bodies were crushed together as a soft mewl caught in [Y/n] throat at the sensation of being held so tightly and protectively. 

Being kissed so lightly yet feeling a furious undercurrent right beneath it that took her breath away as her eyes fell close and she allowed herself to be pulled into his desires.  

“Let me keep you safe.” 

Words husked out as she looked at Snape with lidded eyes and swollen lips as he pulled away from her. Mind in a haze, she nodded at him and watched as he stood. 

And for a moment he hovered over her, eyes raking over her disheveled form that was practically laid out in front of him before going to help her up. Wobbly on her feet, she let him guide her out of the kitchen, past the living room, and up the stairs. 

Her eyes never left his form, as she trailed behind him. Their fingers entwined as they passed the room that she had reluctantly called hers for all this time. 

Its door stood open, light filtering in yet she paid no heed to it as they went past it. No, there was no light where she was going as they went deeper down the hallway before Snape was opening the door to another room.

His own.

Had she had time she would have observed all that was around her. From the items placed on shelves to the stack of chests that sat in the corner of the room.

But there was none as when they passed the threshold of the door, she was immediately being spun around to face him. His hands reached down, tugging at the hem of her skirt yanking it and her underwear off with little resistance from [Y/n] who made no move to stop him. 

Next was the blouse that he had brought to her a number of days ago. That and her bra were unceremoniously torn off her and discarded somewhere to the side causing her to shiver at the sudden cold air that kissed her skin. 

The discomfort was suddenly forgotten as she felt herself being engulfed in his arms, his lips finding the spot on her neck and a hand cupping her ass squeezing harshly and causing a low whimper to leave her. 

Slowly he walked them back, his mouth sucking and kissing at her bare skin as heat corded in her stomach from the way he squeezed and caressed her behind. 

With each step he took forward, she moved backward and before long, a surprised sound left her throat when the back of her legs hit the bed and she found herself tumbling onto the soft sheets and plush mattress that was his bed. 

For a second she couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by his scent that lingered on his bedspread. It was dark, intoxicating, and oddly sensual as she lay upon the silky sheets that felt so good against her skin. 

If she could stay there forever, she probably would as she never felt so immensely drawn to something so suddenly. Slowly she dragged herself further up the bed so that she was basically laying right in the middle of it. 

Peeking up at him with lidded eyes, dark eyes glittered when they met her own unsure ones, holding her attention as he began to shed his clothing. First, the frock coat was tossed to the ground, then the cravat that was nestled comfortably around his neck fell on top of it. 

The white button up dress shirt underneath came next, leaving his upper body bare as his digits began to slowly move down to his trousers. 

It was as if she was hypnotized as she watched him, his fingers brushing against the impression of his arousal. Stroking it languidly as he watched her stare at him. 

Her breath picked up slightly and her core throbbed when he began to unbutton himself and [Y/n] couldn’t stop her thighs from clenching together. 

Her body, already excited from his touches and kisses, was becoming even more aroused at the sight in front of her and what was to come. But she couldn't stop the way her eyes snapped close and how she turned her head away from him as he began to remove his trousers. 

It wasn’t as if she hadn’t seen his cock before. He had used her mouth more than once for his pleasure and her torture. Even fucked her in her dreams. 

However, all she could do now was listen to the sound of him shuffling his clothes off, a quiet groan filling the room before she felt the bed dip beneath her, and sensed his body hovering over hers. 

“Open your eyes,” he hummed, taking her chin gingerly into his hands and turning her so she was facing him. 

She couldn’t, even if she wanted to open them she couldn’t as it felt like there were weights holding them close. And had it been any other time before this, he would have probably forced them open to look at what he was doing to her body. 

Make her watch as he unraveled her knowing where exactly to touch and kiss to have her mind and body dueling each other for control. But he didn’t. 

Instead, he leaned down and pressed feathery kisses against her closed eyelids. Trailing down to take her lips in a brief kiss before he began to suck at her neck. A sigh escaped [Y/n] as he began to kiss and suck love marks into her skin that would no doubt be bruised the next day. 

The vision of her body being littered with marks from him made him groan into her skin as he felt his arousal become harder at the thought. 

Lips pressed against her neck one last time, he began to pepper hot kisses down her throat, sucking and licking all the way down until he reached the swell of her breast. Watching as her chest moved up and down with each shaky breath, Snape kissed her warm skin once more before looking up at her.

“[Y/n] open your eyes.” He commanded in that soft, yet domineering tone of his that had her eyes squeezing tighter and her fingers gripping the sheets underneath her. 

A whimper fell from her as she shook her head from side to side. No matter how much she tried, it just felt like her eyelids were glued shut not wanting to open and experience what was happening. She just couldn’t open them and maybe it was because somewhere in the back of her mind she was still holding out. Holding to some resistance that did not want to let go.

“I-I can’t.”

Expecting him to lose his patience with her, and preparing for the cruel man she had first met to come alive again she tensed as she felt him blow warm air against her nipples. In an instant, they tightened from the sensation and the temperature change causing goosebumps to rise on her skin.

His digits trailed up her body leaving a tingling sensation in its trail before he was cupping the round velvety flesh in his hands. Squeezing it between his digits before massaging the skin and leaving kisses all around it.

“Very well.” 

For a moment there was just stillness. Only the sound of their breaths mingled in the air as his fingers flicked at the hardened buds, rolling them in between each digit and pulling the sensitive flesh. 

A moan caught in her throat as the sensation had her heart feeling as if it would burst out of her chest while the feeling of want intensified in her stomach and had her throbbing. Over and over he rolled them causing her to sigh and arch until,

“Ah!” 

Eyes snapping open at the sharp pain that suddenly shocked her body replacing the pleasure that was coursing through her, a cry of surprise clawed itself out from her throat as she felt his teeth sink into her soft flesh. 

Craning her head to look at him, she was met with glittering eyes staring back at her shocked expression before the groan of pain died down to a whine as he began to suck at the tender flesh. 

His gaze was trained on her as his tongue swirled around the aching skin in an attempt to soothe the pain as his fingers rolled and pulled at her other nipple. 

With every suck, and pinch he watched her reactions, the way her eyes became lidded again, how she bit her bottom lip to keep a moan at bay. How she stared at him like she was caught in her own trance unable to break away from the pleasure that was churning in her body from his actions.

“Good girl.”

His praise came out as a growl, low, and guttural, causing the vibrations from it to sink into her skin, bury themselves into her bones and run up her spine as he continued to worship her soft chest. 

Broken whimpers and sighs formed and spilled from her lips as he moved to play with her other breast, giving it the same treatment as the other but this time only scraping the nipple with his teeth before taking it between his lips and sucking at it harshly. 

Feeling the hand that had found hold on her waist earlier begin to travel down her body, [Y/n] sucked in a harsh breath, stilling as his fingers stroked her lower stomach before slowly making their way in between her spread thighs that quivered.

Massaging the fleshy skin of her inner thigh, he squeezed the area lightly, while continuing to nibble at her hardened buds. Moving from one to the other making sure they were both tended to as his hand continued its journey upward before it was finally cupping her soaked opening.

“Mmph!” 

Feeling the palm of his hand come into contact with her entrance had her moaning out, her hips bucking down in his hold involuntarily as he began to grind his hand against her. 

Moan after strangled moan left her throat as she rolled her hips, mind forgetting about any sort of resistance she tried to hold on to as the pulsing in her cunt grew stronger with each press of her hips towards his palm.

Everything felt so dizzying and intoxicating and it only worsened as he released her sore and swollen nipple from his lips. A smirk grew on his expression as he leaned up to capture her bottom lip sucking at it before pressing their lips together in a heated kiss.

Tongue swiping at her lips, Snape wasted no time and removed the palm of his hand from her cunt, causing a whine to leave her and her hips to jerk, already missing his touch. 

But it was only for a second as a high pitch sound left her lips, parting them open and giving him entrance to her as his fingers began to rub her already sensitive clit which had begun to throb as soon as she started to grind against his hand. 

Pressing his fingers against her pearl, he began to rub harsh tight circles against it as he continued kissing her and drinking in her moans. His tongue encircling hers, stroked and teased it before he felt her shyly begin to move her own tongue against his. 

Her actions had him groaning into her mouth pressing down further into her and, stealing almost all the will he had not to ravage her body right then as she began to finally accept him. 

Tongue swirling around his, licking it, tasting him, and exploring just as he was doing to her, [Y/n] couldn’t help but sigh from his touch and his kiss. 

For a moment he let her have her fun, let her do some teasing before he began to bully her curious little appendage into submission and exploring the rest of her waiting mouth as she melted underneath him. 

Her body loosened completely to him as her eyes fluttered closed and her mind only thought of the pleasure his mouth and hands were bringing her. 

Each press into her clit had her moaning into him, legs tensing and stomach clenching while her cunt ached and fluttered around nothing. Waiting and wanting for something to fill it up to soothe the throbbing that had become incessant. 

He held her there for what felt like an eternity, kissing and stroking her, cording her pleasure tighter and tighter. Making her moan louder into his mouth and grind her wetness against him as she gave him what he had been looking for. 

And as the throbbing in her lower body became stronger, singling that she was reaching her end, she couldn’t help the sob that was ripped from her as he suddenly pulled his fingers away. 

“Becoming needy now aren’t we?” He teased, pulling away from her lips and taking in her quivering form beneath him as a whimper broke free from her. 

Wide eyes and dilated pupils stared back up at him with desire and need burning in them as her lips, swollen and wet from the heated kisses he had placed on them, trembled.  

Leaning down and pressing his lips against her cheek in a gentle kiss, he began to move down on her body. Leaving kisses down her chest and stomach until he settled between her legs, eyes landing on her swollen opening that glistened with her juices that almost seemed to be dripping out of her.

It made his stomach burn, and his cock throb as he took in the sight of what his teasing had done to her. His eyes stayed fixated on her opening, how it seemed to clench and unclench looking for something to fill the void that was there. 

The sight was utterly vulgar and utterly delicious as he licked his thin lips, fingers going to spread her open filling the air with a wet sticky noise and her moans as he exposed her.

Just staring at her wet entrance had him thinking about all the ways he could fill her up. With his tongue, fingers, cock. Oh yes, he would show her. Show her how good it felt, how good it could have always felt if she had just let it. A groan broke free from him just thinking about all the ways he would have her.

“P-please.” Her voice, tiny and unsure, jolted him out of his thoughts as he felt her fingers brush against his hand causing him to look at the bashful expression on her face. “Please don’t stare like that.” 

It was a request that was so innocent sounding, so shy and nothing like what he ever thought he would hear from her. Well, that wasn’t all true, it was something he never thought he would hear so soon. But it was asked so sweetly that he couldn’t help but to agree.

"Of course,” he murmured as she saw a glint cross his eyes, “why stare when I can just have a taste?”

Not having a second to react to his words, a broken shriek of,

“Oh my god!”

Tore through the air as he pressed his face against her opening, tongue darting into her as he collected beads of her wetness while his fingers held her open for him.

Each swirl of his tongue inside her has her gripping the sheets, moaning and grinding her hips against his face in an attempt to feel him deeper inside. 

Harsh puffs of air push out of her lungs as the slick sounds of him licking and sucking her mingle around with groans that she no longer could pinpoint to either one of them. 

It was debauched. The way she was letting him consume her body and mind when she had tried to fend that exact thing off from the beginning. But she couldn’t stop, not when he was making her feel so good that she could hardly breathe. Not with the way he was making her body throb and want more from him. 

A louder moan broke through her barging, hips arching up as the sudden intrusion of his digits sliding into her alongside his tongue had her crying out. Each thrust was met with a lap from his tongue as he drank the juices that she was spilling out.

“Mmm so wet [Y/n],” he groaned out, voice muffled as he pressed his lips against her folds sucking at them and licking up the juices that his fingers were pulling from her, “delicious little thing you are with those pretty sounds.” 

Any sentence or word that she tried to form in her mind would undoubtedly have made no sense as all she could think about was what his tongue and fingers were doing to her. 

How he was stretching and milking her cunt with talented fingers and causing the burning in her belly to become so strong that it was almost painful from the pleasure that was rapidly building in her. 

She was so close and she needed this. Needed the release that he had been building up inside her.  Needed the coil inside her to snap as she felt his fingers begin to travel up. She needed it, needed him. 

As if he could hear her thoughts, he gave her a taste of what she wanted. His tongue and fingers began plugging deeper inside her causing an elongated moan to leave her lips. His fingers moved at a rapid pace as he stroked the spongy spot deep inside her while lapping at her causing loud squelching sounds of her wetness to fill the air. 

Not only that, he had pressed his entire face against her core causing the ridge of his nose to nuzzle her clit. Massaging and pressing against it in tandem with the thrust of his fingers inside of her.

“Ah!”

Her entire body trembled as she clenched her hand into a fist, nails digging into her palms that would no doubt have crescent-shaped imprints in them when all was done. 

Telltale signs of her approaching orgasm began to wash over her as her cunt sucked his fingers in squeezing them and her clit throbbed with each nuzzle against it. 

Each thrust of his tongue and finger had her moans becoming higher and higher in pitch until all she could think about was the searing pleasure burning in her belly.

Her chest began to heave rapidly just as rapidly as the way he was plundering her body and soaking them both with her wetness. Feeling the cord in her belly tighten and tighten and her body trembling  her lips fell open a loud moan about to escape before it morphed in a sudden and choked out, 

“No!”

It was a desperate almost animalistic sound that left her throat as Snape suddenly pulled away from her. His fingers and tongue slipped out and away from her soaked cunt that was twitching uncontrollably and her clit that was swollen and throbbing. 

Tears that seemed to have come from nowhere threatened to spill as she squirmed underneath him,  hips wantonly chasing back after his digits and tongue as a dark chuckle filled her ears.

“Eager, are we?” He husked lowly, “you’ll have me in you again soon enough [Y/n] just be patient.” He continued as he began to move his way back up against her body, fingers trailing up her skin and stroking her warm skin before settling such an intense gaze upon her that it caused her to avert her own from him. 

“Mm, none of that now,” he murmured, gingerly taking her chin in between damp fingers and turning her head to face him even though her eyes were still averted. “Look at me.”

Biting her lips, [Y/n] hesitated for a moment but only for a moment because as her mind tried to give her reasons not to do as he asked, his voice was back in all its soft dark velvet that had her wanting to obey.

“Sweet girl,” he whispered in a sultry voice, pressing a kiss to her forehead and cheek, “look at me, be my good girl, and look at me. ”

Something about the way he called her ‘good girl’ had her stomach churning in pleasure, a tiny mewl leaving her as she let the hesitation she held melt allowing herself to obey his words.

When their eyes met, she felt her breath hitch for a moment as she looked into black gleaming eyes. She had never once looked this deep into his eyes and as she did it felt like she was being sucked into an unending dark sea that had no end.

As dark as it was, and as unending as it felt, there was a strange sensation of never wanting to be let go of it. For not only was the darkness not cold as she thought it would be, but it was actually warm, inviting almost.

“There she is,” his voice invaded her senses pulling her up from that abyss as she felt his lips brush against hers, “such a good girl for me.” He added before pressing his lips against hers once more for another kiss. 

To his surprise and delight, it was her who deepened the kiss this time around. Her arms wrapped around his shoulder while she leaned up a bit to press against him even more. 

A growl emitted from his throat as she parted her lips for him inviting him to taste her again with no resistance. And he did. Tongue swirling around in her mouth as her fingers carded through his hair as she let herself be dominated. 

It was absolutely alluring to him, the way she was giving herself to the pleasure now, no longer fighting. And who was he to not enjoy the obedience that she was giving him? 

Pulling away from the kiss and watching as lust shined in her eyes while she stared at him as if waiting for him to tell her what to do. He leaned down, kissing her once more before placing his lips near her ear and whispering, “Would you like me to take care of you [Y/n]?” 

Whimpering a little at the question and the underlying meaning, she could only nod her answer fearing her voice would fail if she tried to speak. Instead of acquiescing, Snape shook his own head at her nonverbal answer, a little smirk playing at his lips.

“No, let me hear you. I want to hear you say the words.”

Unlike the way she hesitated to look at him before, there was no hesitation in the words she spoke even if they had not been hurried either.

“Please,” she begged in a tiny voice unrecognizable to herself, her arms tightening around his shoulder bringing him closer to her. “Please take care of me.”

A pleasant almost kind smile grew on his lips at her word before he leaned down and pressed them against her cheek before murmuring a quiet, “of course.” 

Letting out an almost relieved sigh, [Y/n] felt herself sinking further into the bed as Snape nestled his body right between her spread thighs that seemed to fall open more. 

Welcoming him as he wrapped his fingers around his cock, guiding it to her entrance and slowly beginning to roll his hips against her. Each rocking motion caused her to gasp as his cock began to nudge her entrance open with each movement. 

He did this a couple of more times, pushing past the entrance of her folds teasingly before pulling out, groaning at sticky wet sounds and little whimpers that fell from her. 

Each press against her had his control slipping as he toyed with her by slowly inching more of him inside of her with each rock of his hips. He stretched her slowly as her cunt began throbbing around him each time he entered and pulled away. Teasing her folds, running his cock through her wetness before pressing back in and groaning as her whines became more vocal.

“Mmm please~.”

She whimpered breathlessly looking up at him, her hips rocking into his, only being stopped when he held her still causing her to almost want to cry. 

It was becoming too much. She needed something in her. Something to stop the incessant throbbing that was almost painful from the amount of teasing and waiting. Stop the wildfire that was burning in the pit of her stomach that was becoming uncontrollable at his point.

Staring up at him with pleading wet eyes, she was met with him giving her a heated look that had her breath hitching as if she could see all the things in his mind right now that he wanted to do to her. 

His gaze trapped her for a moment. Held her attention just enough so that when he finally gave her folds one last swipe before sheathing himself fully inside her with one thrust, he got to witness the way she fell apart. 

How her lips suddenly parted as a choked sob became silent as she felt him sink into her. How her eyes widened for a moment, her body tensing at the intrusion that had made its way into her.

The startled gasp became one elongated moan as her body accepted the intrusion of him. Throbbing and fluttering around him as he sank further into her making him groan as the spasms of her body massaged his cock.

Both of their breathing became uneven as he relished at how hot and wet she was. Enjoying how tightly her body wrapped around him, squeezing him and coaxing him inside. 

Pants filled the air as they both stilled, and he couldn’t help but appreciate the lustful sight of her beneath him. Lips parted, eyelids fluttering up at him with dilated pupils, and breath uneven while being full of cock. 

What was even better was how she lay there. Not resisting. Instead only moaning out and wiggling her hips downwards a little as she tried to press him deeper into her. Wanting to feel how good it could be if she could take all of him.

As much as he wanted to be gentle with her this time around, the thought of pounding her into the mattress was much more alluring as she twisted her body stimulating both of them. He could be gentle another day but right now, he wanted her writhing on his cock and begging him as she gave herself over willingly. 

Rocking his hips against hers at a steady pace, he pulled out of her completely before sinking himself completely back into her multiple times. Grinding his hips in small circles each time he entered her and pressing their hips closer.

Soft moans flew from her lips as she rocked her hips with his, chasing his cock each time he pulled out of her only to whimper out a soft ‘yes’ each time he sunk back inside stretching her completely. 

The amount of pleasure he was bringing her just by fucking her on his cock was insane. And when he began to speed up, burying himself deeper into her, it had her body tensing and clenching down wanting him to stay inside her longer with each thrust. 

Wet sounds of flesh slapping against each other filled the air alongside little whines that mingled with them whenever she felt him lean down to kiss her neck or cheek. 

Each time he would do this she could feel him sinking deeper into her and it had her gasping out, tightening her hold on him trying to draw him closer as waves of heat burned inside her.

Faster and faster his hips snapped, bullying the soft spot inside her that had her toes curling and stomach clenching with each stroke. The pleasure she felt from it was too much. Suffocating almost especially when she felt his hand begin to snake between them. 

She hadn’t paid any mind to his wandering hands too caught up in his cock filling her until the digits found what they had been looking for. With one harsh press against her clit, Snape began to rub tight circles around her causing her to choke and her hips to arch suddenly closing the distance.  And before she knew it a broken sob of,

“F-Faster!”

Fell from her lips wanting more of what he was giving to her as she shook and writhe. Her cry had his cock swelling, hardening even more inside of her and his hips stuttering for a second at how lusty she sounded. 

It surprised him only for a moment before he regained his rhythm thrusting, fingers leaving her pearl for a moment to gather the wetness that connected them before returning to the bead and rubbing it.

“Please faster it f-feels,” she gasped, feeling his fingers against her clit as it alternated between rubbing tight circles and pressing down on it causing her to almost choke on her words, “f-feels so, feels so!”

The words refused to come out instead a long moan took their place as he pressed deeper into her causing her breath to hitch.

“Feels what [Y/n]?” Snape hissed leaning down, pushing his cock further and further into her as his fingers continued to torture her clit. Her entire body convulsed at his touch as the throbbing of her insides became erratic and her mouth fell open even though no sound left her.  

“Tell me,” he crooned, snapping his hips against her again making her shout before it morphed into a half sob half moan as her legs wrapped around his waist dragging him closer to her. “Tell me tell me how it feels.”

“Feels good feels so good,” she squealed out as his hips began to increase in their rhythm. The sound of wet flesh meeting each other became louder and more intense as her cunt began to gush with her juices with each plunge of his cock inside her while his fingers played with her clit that felt incredibly tight and sensitive. 

Eyes rolling to the back of her head, her lips parted letting out streams of sobs and moans along with irregular puffs of air as her body began to wind itself up tight. Feeling the edge of her release come into view as he fucked her.

Amazed at just how ethereal she looked while drowning in pleasure, a tinge of excitement took hold of him at the thought of how she would look while coming on his cock. Coming undone on the man that had held her against her will until he wasn’t.

A loud groan tore from him at that thought, before he was snatching his hand away from her clit. Leaving her shaking and almost protesting before she was silenced with his lips smashing against hers and his pelvis tilting up just enough that it had her screaming into his mouth when he entered again. 

Caging her in with his arms, and laying his body fully on top of hers he relished at how she shook underneath him as he pounded into her. Drinking in her cries and stealing her breath with each thrust as her insides churned and churned with the stimulation. 

“You like that don’t you,” he rasped lowly, pulling away from her swollen lips and looking at her blissed out features as he continued to drag his cock in and out relentlessly. 

Kissing up her neck he began to nibble a trail up to her ear before whispering into it, voice low filled with lust and breathy from the exertion being put forth, “like how deep my cock is?” He moaned, puncturing the sentence with a slam of his hips into her causing her to squeal, digging her fingers into him. “Like how it’s taking care of you?”

“Yes! I-it’s so good!” She shrieked as waves of pleasure began to drown and overwhelm her as his cock dragged against her spongy spot with each plunge inside of her. 

“So good please,” her voice broke and her fingers clawed his shoulder trying to find something to moor her down as she babbled out desperately. 

“Please, gonna come please!”

[Y/n] wailed loudly, her body twitching around him, desperately sucking him in and holding him close each time he tried to pull away signaling her body was about to fall over that euphoric ledge he was leading her to.

“You’re going to come?” He gritted out hips pounding into her fast and hard no doubt going to leave bruises on her skin as he ripped sob after sob out of her. “I’ll let you come,” he hissed, eyes glinting as he watched her eyes fluttering and tears begin to drip down her face from the pleasure that was churning in her. “But I want to hear you scream my name when you do understand?”

The thought of disobeying never passed her mind, the only thing on it was the impending release that was bubbling up quickly and about to reach the point of no return. So she nodded furiously, eyes wide and body already trembling as he didn’t let up his pace.

“Yes! Yes! I’ll do whatever you want, I'll do it!” Her sobs were almost incomprehensible as she thrashed her head against the bed as if she were out of her mind. “Please, please, please!”

Moaning at her words, Snape latched his lips onto her neck and sucked at the skin pressing into her as he shoved a hand between where they were connected holding himself over her with one arm. 

His mouth moved next to her ear panting, “then come,” he growled fingers pressing her bead that had her choking out and hips canting upward meeting his thrust, “come on my cock, my good girl.”

It felt as if fireworks had been lit in her belly. Her cunt spasmed once twice, and then over and over unrelenting as his fingers rubbed tight harsh circles against her in the same rhythm of his thrusts. 

“Severus!” 

He didn’t stop as his name left her lips in a scream that had him groaning out loud at the sound of it. No, he kept thrusting into her ignoring the way she sobbed and shook underneath as he abused her oversensitive cunt. 

Ignoring how she choked his name out saying it like a prayer as she looked at him with eyes glistening with tears and parted lips that were swollen and wet.

“Severus! S-Severus!” 

[Y/n] sobbed, not able to form any other coherent words or thoughts. All that was in her mind was him. How his fingers stayed on her clit, playing with the oversensitive bead as he continued to rail into her forcing her body to begin its climb to another orgasm just after the one she had.

It didn’t take long either for her to get there as his cock began to throb inside of her and his thrusts became sloppy yet still digging deep into her until the shout of her name rang around the room.

“[Y/n]!”

The sound of her name vibrated in the air as he slammed his lips harshly against hers in a desperate kiss. When he emptied himself inside her she could only moan into his mouth as he released inside her. Feeling his hot seed coating her and flooding her insides had her spasming again, causing a choked noise to leave her and her mind to blank as another orgasm hit her. 

The lack of oxygen from him kissing her had her feeling dizzy almost as if she was having an out of body experience. Her entire body quaked and she couldn’t control the moans and whimpers that escaped her as he stilled himself inside her. 

Cunt spasming and throbbing around him all she could feel was how warm she was. How wet and slick her insides felt as it pulsed from the unrelenting fucking that she had endured. 

Arms wrapping around her and pulling her close to him, it felt like an eternity passed before her body started to come down from the euphoric bliss that he had caused her to spiral down. 

Her eyes were wide open as she stared up at the ceiling, heavy pants becoming quiet whimpers as she tugged herself closer to him ignoring the stickiness and weight of him still in her. 

The high of having such an intense orgasm left her body high strung and needing the weight and comfort of another to calm her as wave after wave of emotions began to hit her.

Cooing at her actions, Severus kissed her cheek, wrapping his arms around her and just letting her be underneath him with her shivering form and her eyes closing before any tears could fall out of them. 

She didn’t know how much time had passed, or when she had fallen asleep. But when she reopened her eyes, darkness was the only thing that greeted her vision. A blanket was pulled over her preventing the chill from reaching her and the feeling of being cleaned was evident.

Her body, still weighed down from Severus' grip on her, was unmoving as her mind began to replay the moments that had led her up to this moment. How she laid underneath him, let him use her, even begged for it, begged for him to use her. 

And it felt good. It felt so good. He had taken care of her like he said he would, hadn’t hurt her and it was blissful for a split second as when she was rocked with her orgasm all she felt was relaxed bliss. 

The tears that rolled down her cheek went unnoticed as she clenched her eyes shut as her mind continued to replay it over and over.  In her spiral, she doesn’t capture the way her fingers grasp onto his nightshirt and how she pressed herself close to him with each passing thought. Nor did she register the sensation of his hand lightly pressing into her back. 

No, her mind was too caught up in something else. Caught up in the answer she had been too afraid of to admit out loud. It had been there much earlier than she wanted to believe. But it had been there floating around flashing every time something happened. 

Because if it was to save her, to keep her from becoming more damaged, from being lonely, or even dying. Then selfish, or not there had only been one answer from the start:

To give in.

A/N: Well well well if that wasn't a rollercoaster idk what is lol. I hope this chapter turned out okay and I do admit I had a hard time with it because the plot was not trying to plot but it is done and I'm not mad at it and I hope you guys aren't either :)!!!

Also, shout out to @renee561 for listening to me scream and complain about this chapter while also making me sprint for my life to get it done asap. Thank you, friend!!!

And thank you guys for reading this even though it took me a hot minute to write it! As usual, leave your thoughts (and if you see any errors) ^o^ and I hope to see you in the next chapter! (Which will not be nearly as plot focused as this so if you're just wanting a lot of smut that next one is for u 😘 whenever she writes it....)

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter One (Part 2)

Back at the house, Shane’s mother Caroline is pulling rocket out of the vegetable patch. She complains all the time about having planted it without realising how invasive it is and how it would choke and overcrowd her shallots. Beside her is a growing pile of herbs, some of which she will offer to me before I go home, and I’ll take it knowing that my parents don’t know how to cook with things like rocket. 

“Well,” She says to me with the sun in her eyes. “How did you get on?”

“Horrible.” I say. “I thought I’d be sick.”

“Great to get back into the swing of things again.” She says. “Sure you’ll be flying up and down those fields again in no time.”

“I hope so.” Down the garden Claire is lying serenely in the sun next to a flourishing bed of summer flowers. When I go over to her she squints up at me and says “You’re a bit sweaty.” 

“Yes I know.” I say, and I lie down beside her with my arms and legs spread eagle and close my eyes against the warmth of the sun. 

“This is why I don’t do things like running.” She says. “I can’t stand the feeling of exertion.”

“I can’t imagine you sweating.”

“‘Cause I don’t do that.”

Shane is toeing a football around the grass nearby with Rosie snapping at his feet. I can’t fathom how he has the energy. “If I’d it my way you’d be out of bed at six, running up and down the park with me.” He tells her. 

“I’d never do a thing like that in my life.”

“Evie will though, won’t you?”

I sigh. “I suppose.” We have a plan in place to get me fit again once we go back to college in a few weeks, and now that Shane is moving to Portobello it means he’ll only be a five minute cycle from our apartment. When it’s time for our run he can just come and get me. The thought is ominous, but not half as ominous as the thought of heading back to Dublin after the summer, even if I won’t be in the NCAD building much this year.

There isn’t much that stands out from second year. It passed me by in a haze, and all that I really did was work and study, eat and sleep. I chose to specialise in illustration, just like I said I would, and I enjoyed it, but it really just became my life, and once again I fell into the role of the quiet girl in the back of the classroom, never all that willing to participate in pub nights with the others. I went home and drew all evening instead, sometimes hanging out with Jaz and Serena when they were over, but apart from that it was quiet. I didn’t want any new people in my life.

Marnie specialised in graphic design, Dean in painting, and we never spoke except for the time that she said something to me in the canteen about liking my hair. I didn’t say anything back to her and then she never tried to talk to me again. They don’t talk to each other anymore either, but I don’t care about what happened. I saw Dean in the hallways once or twice, and out in the yard with some girl who I almost felt like warning about him, but then chose not to risk getting tangled up in his rotten web again. I hope that she will be smarter than I was. I decided to take an optional extra year and do an internship, but they did not, and so next May they will graduate without me and I’ll never have to see them again. 

“Are you excited for your internship thingy?” Claire asks me, somehow following my train of thoughts to the same point, and I tell her that I am. “I’m scared too though.” I admit. “I feel like I wouldn’t know how to act in a real work place with professionals.”

“You’ll be grand. You worked in that café before.” 

“Yeah but a café is very different from a screen printing studio, I think probably anybody can pour an americano and put a bun on a plate. The people at the studio are going to be actual paid artists who design things and sell them.”

“But you are an actual artist.”

“Not yet.” I shift up to lean back on my elbows and watch Caroline busy at the beds still, the soft buzz of the honeybees in her hives fill the air with a pleasant, comfortable sort of ambience. “When I get paid for something I’ve done, I think then I can say that I am.”

“Hm.” She says. “Well then you can say it after you’ve painted that window later on this week.”

“Oh yeah.” I say, remembering the promise I made to my former manager to do some typography on the front window of the café. It’s the kind of thing I haven’t done before, but the idea of it feels so exciting that I feel I’d probably do it for no money at all, but the fifty euro he’s offering sounds enticing too.

“Here, what’s the name of that printing place you’re going to work?” Shane wants to know, and I tell him. “Mezzotint.”

He nods. “I think I know one of the lads that works there.”

“Really?” This incredibly culchie man and the amount of alternative social circles he seems to have a finger in never ceases to surprise me. Since when is he randomly hanging out with screenprinters?

“Yeah.” He says, kicking the football into the back wall of the long garden with a thwack. “Simon something. He’s hung out with me and my friends a few times now. Nice lad.”

“Is he a single lad?” Claire asks for my benefit, and I lightly thump her on the arm. She’s only teasing. She knows I’m firmly settled into being entirely romantically unavailable again. Safe limbo, married to myself, never looking at any boys. 

“Wouldn’t say so.” Shane says. “I think he’s going out with one of the girls.”

“Oh no.” I say sarcastically, and take my phone out of my bum bag to check the time. “Anyway, I think it’s time I head off.”

“Aw, stay.” Claire says, but I show her that it’s almost five and she understands immediately. Kelly works with her dad, the head chef at a local hotel, every weekday until five. She’ll be home in about ten minutes and I don’t want to be anywhere near this garden when she is.

“Don’t forget the rocket.” Caroline tells me, and I don’t. I grab a generous handful from her and let myself out over the stile ladder. 

“Same time tomorrow.” Shane yells after me. 

“Ugh!” I yell back, and take off over the fields that lead me back towards town. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

[hollywoodxwhore]

Mine | Chapter Eight

Colson x Original Female Character

Synopsis: Presley may look sinful on the outside, but deep down, she's innocent, guarded, and terrified of intimacy. Colson, on the other hand, is living up to his womanizer reputation as a way to cope with heartbreak. When his new guitarist invites his twin sister to join them on tour, Colson discovers that he's actually capable of feeling. Will Presley and Colson be able to push past all of the barriers trying to prevent them from happening?

Warnings/Content: Smut (18+), swearing, presley being obsessed with col's cute butt, talking about fEeLiNgS, oral sex (m/f receiving)

Now that the smut is arrived, it's not going anywhere. Sorry not sorry.

Presley

“Presley. Hey. Pres?” 

The voice is wavy and dreamy, but it becomes clearer as I wake up. I open one eye and look at Colson, the source of the voice. “Hm?” I reply, rubbing my eyes. “What time is it?”

“Six,” Colson says.

“Six?” I reply, lifting my head. “Why are you waking me up?”

He shrugs, smiling sheepishly. He’s lying on his side facing me, still naked. I shiver a little when I remember what he did to me before we fell asleep. It’s enough to bring a wave of desire right back into my stomach. 

“I missed you,” he says quietly. 

Well, that melts me. I can’t help but smile and shake my head. “I’m right here,” I say. 

“Not close enough,” he replies, pulling me close. I’m still naked, too, and I’m not scared or shy or ashamed. Being vulnerable with Colson feels easy. 

He strokes my hair gently and kisses my forehead. “So, you made me jealous earlier,” he says.

“When?” I ask, looking up at him.

“When you got into that clearly two-person jacuzzi without me,” he says.

“To be fair,” I say, “I was pissed at you then, and you hadn’t seen me naked yet.”

“Are you still pissed at me?”

“No.”

“Have I seen you naked?”

“You currently are.”

“Then can we get in the jacuzzi?”

I roll my eyes but I’m grinning. “Come on.” 

Colson is like a kid, hopping out of bed and loping into the bathroom. He returns with two fluffy towels and leads the way outside. I shiver when we step outside, even though it’s already pretty warm. My eyes land on Colson when he bends over to start the tub, and I hold back a snicker. He has no ass. But it’s cute. 

He glares at me over his shoulder. “Hey. What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” I say, smiling innocently. “You just have a really cute butt.”

He snorts. “What butt? I don’t have one,” he says. 

“It’s still cute,” I say. He stands up and I walk over, wrapping my arms around his waist. He hugs me and looks down at me, and I let my hands drift to his ass, giving it a little squeeze. My brow arches. “Oh, wait, there might be a little somethin’ back there.”

Colson’s brows raise and he grins widely. “Oh yeah? You think?”

I nod. “Mhmm.” I continue to squeeze his ass and he presses his lips together.

“You tryna turn me on?” he asks tightly.

“Maybe,” I say coyly, blinking up at him.

He groans softly and bends to kiss me. “You’re going to be the death of me, Presley Carver.”

“And you’re going to be the death of me, Colson Baker.” 

He grins and lets go of me long enough to climb into the tub, opening his arms for me. I slide into the hot water with a sigh and rest my back against his chest, tipping my head back onto his shoulder. He gathers my hair and pulls it aside so it doesn’t get wet. Then, his arms slide around my waist and I relax. 

“Hey Pres?”

“Hm?”

“Are you going to talk to Cash?”

“Hell yeah.” Colson starts to drum his fingers nervously on my thigh. “Col, it’s okay,” I assure him.

“But what if he decides he doesn’t want to tour with me or be a part of all of this anymore?” he asks, and there’s real concern in his voice.

I consider this. As much as I want to yell at Cash, he’s the most stubborn person I know. He would totally pull a move like that and I don’t want anyone getting fucked over because Cash is too protective of me. 

“So what do I do?” I ask quietly.

Colson is silent. “Maybe…we tell him when the tour is over?” 

I blink. I hate the idea of keeping things from Cash, and I really despise the idea of hiding whatever this is that we’re doing. Now that Colson has touched me, all I want to do is keep touching him. I’m not sure if he’s a PDA guy, but I want to hold his hand and hug him and kiss him in public and jump into his arms when he comes off the stage sweaty from a show. I would have to pretend that I don’t have feelings for him until we’re behind closed doors. 

That would be difficult.

But Cash abandoning the tour would be worse.

“Okay,” I say finally. “I’ll wait until we’re done touring.”

“You sure you’re okay with that?” Colson asks. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m hiding you.”

“What are we doing, Colson?” I ask. “What is this?”

Colson rests his chin on my shoulder. “A relationship. Or it will be soon, hopefully.” His voice is quiet, almost timid. I’m not sure many people have seen Colson like this, lacking confidence. 

“Are you sure you’re ready for that?” I ask.

“Yes,” he answers immediately. “I really like you, Pres.” I bite back a smile. “I don’t want anyone else. I just want you.” He presses a kiss to my shoulder. “Are you ready for that?”

“It’s still a little scary,” I confess. “I don’t know what our future holds, you know? With your job and my life. But we don’t need to figure that out right now.”

“No, we don’t,” Colson agrees.

“I’m…I really like you, too, Col,” I assure him. “I want a relationship, too.”

“We’re just going to have to be careful until the tour ends,” he says. “We’ll take advantage of the time we have together here.”

“We can keep manipulating it in our favor,” I say. “I’ll keep rooming with Liv and you keep rooming with Cash and they’ll keep wanting to switch.”

“Good idea,” he says. 

“We’ll figure it out,” I tell him.

“Yeah,” he says, kissing my neck. “We will.”

I shiver and close my eyes, and my chest squeezes. “Col…”

“What’s wrong?” he asks, lifting his head to meet my eyes. “Are you okay?”

“I’m scared of how attached I am to you already,” I admit, a little embarrassed. I know guys don’t want to be with virgins for this very reason. “Does that bother you?”

Colson considers this. “No. I like it,” he says. “I feel pretty possessive over you. Does that bother you?”

“No,” I say decidedly. “I like it.”

“Good. Then we’re fine,” he says. And then, his hands start to wander.

First, they drift down my waist and then smooth over my thighs. He traces a finger up the middle of my stomach and I close my eyes, letting out a breath. It’s crazy how easily he can turn me on. Subtly, I press my thighs together and squeeze.

As Colson’s lips find my neck and suck gently, delicate fingers trace my nipples and I whine softly, tensing up. “Is this okay?” Colson practically purrs in my ear and I shiver, nodding as his lips continue to find all of the sensitive spots on my neck. “Mm. Good.” 

Perfect teeth sink gently into my neck just as he pinches my nipples lightly between his fingers and thumbs. I suck in a breath as pleasure rushes through me, my toes curling slightly in the water. “Col,” I breathe, tilting my head to the side in silent encouragement for him to keep going. 

“Are they more sensitive now that they’re pierced?” he murmurs.

“Fuck yes,” I gasp. Jesus. I’m sensitive all over. I had no idea that it would be like this. Of course I’ve touched myself before, but that’s all about the end goal, not the journey. I know exactly what works for me to the point to where it’s almost automatic. I couldn’t have ever dreamed that being touched by someone else, someone I want, could feel this good.

“Let’s get out. I need to make you come again,” he says huskily, and I feel my body react to his words. I scramble to get out of the tub and Colson chuckles, low and cocky, and when I look at him, he’s smirking. 

Inside, we dry off as quickly as we can, and then Colson has me sitting on the edge of the bed. “Lay back,” he demands. I do as I’m told and then he grips my hips, yanking me to the very edge of the bed. My breath catches in my throat at his strength, and as he drops to his knees, my eyes widen. He notices my apprehension and pauses, hands on my thighs. “Is this okay, baby?”

“Wh-what are you planning on doing?” I ask, going up on my elbows to watch him.

The way Colson licks his lips makes it pretty clear what he’s planning on doing to me. He’s looking at me like I’m his favorite meal. “Been dying to taste you since I met you,” he confesses, eyes dark when they land on mine. “But if you’re not comfortable with that…”

I chew on my lip. This is so much more intimate than his hand. This is his mouth we’re talking about. What if he doesn’t like the taste? What if I lose my mind with pleasure and have no control over my body? 

“Baby,” Colson says, breaking me from my thoughts. “Please don’t be nervous. I love giving head. Trust me. I’m going to love it even more with you.”

“If you really want to,” I say. I can’t help but be intrigued. Women in porn act like this is the greatest sensation they’ve ever felt. I want to see if that’s all for show or if it’s real. I nod. “Okay. Yes.”

“You sure?” he asks, but he’s already lifting my legs so that my heels rest on the bed, spreading me open for him. 

“Yes,” I breathe, feeling vulnerable and a little scared, but I trust him fully. 

Colson smirks at me – god, he looks so cocky and it’s so fucking hot – and then his eyes drift from my face to place where I’m already soaked between my legs. It doesn’t take much for him to get me wet. That I’m learning quickly. He licks his lips again, and then he leans in, dragging his tongue in an exploratory swipe from my entrance up to my clit. My entire body seizes up at the sensation, especially when the hot, wet tip of his tongue brushes my most sensitive spot.

He does it again a few more times, and then he seals his lips around my clit. His tongue rolls over my sensitive spot and he sucks a little, and I throw my head back and arch off the bed. “Holy fuck,” I gasp, feeling like I’ve just touched a live wire. Within seconds, my entire body is tingling. Oh god. Porn didn’t lie about this one. This is, quite literally, the best thing I’ve ever felt. I already don’t want it to end and he’s just begun.

“More, Col, please,” I beg, pushing a hand into his hair. “Feels so good, baby.”

Colson moans against me and his dark eyes lock on mine as he releases my clit in favor of fluttering his tongue lightly against it. It’s such a teasing movement that my hips twitch, seeking more, and I whimper helplessly. I can’t take my eyes off of him.

“Presley,” Colson rasps, leaving an open-mouthed kiss on me. “Pres, god, you taste like fucking candy. Holy shit.”

I know he’s exaggerating. That’s not possible, of course, but it does wonders for my confidence, and I fully relax into the sensations. And Colson isn’t shy about it at all. His fingertips dig into the flesh of my ass and hips as he presses his face into me again, moaning in pleasure. “Oh god!” I gasp as my stomach tenses. 

Colson licks and sucks me for a few more minutes, and then he pulls back, rubbing my clit with three fingers as he watches me. His mouth is slightly open and I flash back to the night I walked in on him. It’s the same face I saw then but even hotter because I’m the one causing that look. My breath comes out in gasps as I watch him.

“Baby, can I try something else?” he asks. “Can I put my fingers inside you? Please?”

My stomach tightens with desire and I nod. “Y-yes, of course, anything,” I say quickly, and I mean it. I trust him so completely that he could do just about anything to me right now.

“Fuck,” he growls, and as his mouth reclaims its place on my clit, I feel one of his thick fingers start to slide into me. It’s a weird sensation at first; I never put anything inside me when I get myself off. I keep it all on the outside. But slowly, he starts to pump his finger, and every time he pumps in, I clench around him unintentionally. He’s found that spot everyone talks about without much effort at all. It makes sense; his fingers are long.

The next time he pumps his finger in, he crooks it slightly, and I let out a choked gasp when I feel him rub against my g-spot. Holy hell. The combination of his mouth assaulting my clit and his fingertip rubbing against my spot has me almost convulsing. But I desperately want him to keep going, so I plead. “Don’t stop, Col,” I cry. “That feels so good, oh my god–”

Colson moans in response and when he slides his middle finger back inside of me, his ring finger has joined, and although his fingers are thick, it doesn’t hurt. It just intensifies the pleasure and the pressure on my spot. I’m seriously near tears with pleasure at this point, and I want it to keep going forever, but I also want to come so, so badly. I could come from his mouth alone, but paired with his fingers? I’m going to explode. 

His fingers are relentless against my g-spot and his tongue knows exactly what it’s doing with my clit, and my entire body is rigid and shaking. I feel myself start to flutter around him, a distinct warning of my impending orgasm. “Col,” I cry out, “coming–”

That’s all I can say because I’m seeing stars. The first time I ever had an orgasm, I thought that nothing in the world could ever feel better. But this orgasm? This orgasm is ten times stronger, ten times better than any other one I’ve had. This one shocks me from head to curling toes, my body wracking with the pleasure of it. I barely recognize my own voice as I let out high-pitched whines and cries and curses as I writhe against his face. My hips jerk and buck wildly until finally, pleasure melts into overstimulation.

“Cols,” I say breathlessly, tugging his hair to pull him away, and he immediately does, sliding his fingers carefully out of me and lifting his head. He looks up at me and his lips are so red and shiny and his fingers are soaked and that was me, I did that, and I should maybe be embarrassed but I’m not. I’m losing my mind because I didn’t know sensations like that existed. “Jesus fuck. Oh my god,” I pant, collaposing onto my back.

Colson chuckles and stands, and that’s when I see it: his dick, long and thick and so hard, the tip red and dripping. My eyes widen. I always thought I’d be scared of penises, as stupid as that sounds, but looking at Colson now, my mouth is watering. “Col,” I say quietly, voice raspy from crying out. 

“Mm?” Colson watches me as he curls his long fingers around his dick, giving it a slow stroke. I watch, mesmerized, as he smears my orgasm from his fingers onto his dick. 

“Can I have a turn?” I ask. His brow furrows for just a second but when he realizes what he’s asking, I can visibly see his knees weaken.

“Fuck, are you sure?” he asks. “I’m good.” He shakes his head. “Don’t feel obligated.”

“I don’t,” I say, reaching for his hips. He steps closer to me and lets go of his dick so I can take it in my hand instead. It’s a strange feeling, hard yet soft and pliant at the same time. Experimentally, I graze my thumb over the red tip and Colson hisses, his hips jerking forward. I look up at him quickly.

“S’okay,” he rasps, wetting his lips. “The head is just sensitive.”

I nod and look down at him again, taking my time working my hand up and down his shaft. Then, I push him back slightly and sink to my knees. “Oh Jesus,” Colson mutters, long fingers weaving into my hair. 

“Col,” I say, looking up at him. He swallows hard and looks into my eyes. “Will you help me?”

“Shit, baby, of course,” he says, sliding his hand to the back of my head. “Just taste me first. Put your tongue on the tip.” 

I nod and do as I’m told, dragging the flat of my tongue over that wet, red tip, gathering his pre-cum into my mouth. It’s salty which is off-putting at first, but I don’t mind it. This is Colson. I’m going to love however he tastes and feels. 

Colson curses. “Yeah, that’s it,” he praises. “Now put your lips around the tip.” I follow that direction, too, wrapping my lips around him, and he moans. God, I want to keep making him moan. I’ve never heard anything so sexy in my life. 

Slowly, I start to bob my head, going no further than just a few inches. He has many of those, so I know I need to take it slow. I don’t have a particularly bad gag reflex, but I know I can’t fit nine inches of thick cock in my mouth. I’m surprised at how naturally it comes to me, but I wrap my hand around the inches I can’t fit. The more I bob my head, the wetter his dick gets, and I use that as lubricant so my hand glides easier. 

Colson is in absolute heaven above me. His knees keep buckling and his hand tightens in my hair every so often. I can feel him trembling, and his sounds are frequent and perfect. I fucking love giving head. I fucking love giving Colson head. I’ve never felt so damn powerful. 

With that burst of courage, I take him deeper so his tip grazes my throat, but I don’t choke. I like it, like the way my jaw feels a little strained. The moan that falls from Colson’s lips is tortured, and he spills a little more pre-cum into my mouth. “Shit, baby, shit,” he pants. “I’m not gonna last, I’m s-sorry…”

I moan around him, wordlessly telling him that he doesn’t have anything to be sorry for, and I suck just a little bit harder. He must be getting close, because he’s shaking harder and his fingers are twitching against my scalp. His dick throbs a little and suddenly, he tugs at my hair more sharply. “Pres, I’m gonna come,” he gasps. “Baby, if you don’t want me to come in your mouth, y-you need to, ah shit–”

Hell no. I’m going all the way. I’ve committed to this and I want every perfect second of the experience. I want him to come in my mouth, want to swallow him down and taste every drop of him, and god, I feel filthy, but I fucking love it. So with my free hand, I reach around to grab his ass, keeping him tight against my mouth.

“Oh shit, I’m coming–” His voice breaks and he sucks in a breath as his fingers tighten in my hair. His hips jerk forward and his cum spills into my mouth, hot and salty but perfect, and I don’t struggle at all to swallow it down. I take everything he gives me and when he pulls himself from my mouth, I swirl my tongue over his tip to make sure I get every single drop. Colson is staring down at me like he can’t believe I’m real, and now it’s my turn to sport a cocky smirk. 

“Oh my god,” he pants. “Are you sure. You’re a virgin?” He can’t even get a full sentence out, he’s breathing so hard. I just giggle, nodding my head, and then I stand up, facing him.

“Can I kiss you or do you not want a kiss after that?” I ask.

Colson scoffs. “Oh, fuck that,” he says, holding my face in his hands as he leans down to kiss me. The kiss is hot at first, hard and messy, but then it slows down, growing more passionate, and I have no idea how our mouths can fit together so perfectly. It’s like we were made for each other. 

We fall onto the bed as we keep kissing, our legs intertwining, and we press as close as we possibly can to each other. And that’s when it hits me. I don’t just like this man.

I’m falling in love with him.

[khepiari]

One Piece Chapter 1081 [Spoilers] Reminder-Law has cheated Death and Lost his home: Thrice!

I knew it was coming; I was hoping for a miracle. But this is the finale, we are going to lose more people! The stakes are high, our final contenders to One Piece are moving closer to their goal! But as Trafalgar Law fan, I was not ready to see him lose!

Paulo Coelho had warned me, Everything that happens once can never happen again. But everything that happens twice will surely happen a third time, yet I was not ready!

True, “The weak don’t get to choose how they die”! And Bepo made sure that Law didn’t get to die today. Bepo bet his life and went on to challenge Blackbeard! I respect him and again it set’s another example how each and every first mate has been loyal and that’s how they saved their captains! Zoro on Thriller Bark, Killer on Elbaf, and Bepo on Winner Island! A captain will survive when it’s crew will sacrifice itself!

Law will hate this; he has the captain’s burden to bare, pride of his crew on his shoulders and honour of the dead to carry! And yes, weak as he may be right now, he really didn’t get to choose his death. Trafalgar D Water Law will not die today, but for now he has been eliminated like Kid from the final race to One Piece.

Law lost his home! For the third time! His island and family are gone, Corazon and foster Doffy family is gone. His crew and ship was a family and home he built over 13 years! A ship which was a gift to him from a friend. He lost it all!

Losing a ship means you have been defeated and your spine cracked! What’s a pirate without a ship? After Merry Go and Thousand Sunny, Polar Tang was my favourite ship. I loved it for it’s cool design, utility, and absolutely fun colour. Law has a career ending blow, but he will survive.

Law will survive, he will be depressed again, he will hate himself again, but he will come back, he might not get the opportunity to avenge his crew the way he will want too! But he will survive, and he will get his answers to the questions he carries!

There is a purpose he has to serve, and my fears for his future is worse. That devil fruit he carries; it definitely offers something more than eternal youth. If it can cure an incurable disease like Amber Lead Syndrome, that means it can cure other things too. And a certain someone has already lost twenty years to a drug when he tried to save his brother.

I just can’t help but notice how Law has cheated Death thrice! If Law was a cat; he would have six more lives to spend! And out of which their is a high possibility the last life might get spent on saving the only D that matters in this universe. But for now that’s a thought I hope doesn’t come to fruition!

Why am I so sympathetic to Law but not Kid?

I think why my reaction to Kid getting pulverised and Law getting butchered are so different, is because it’s very simple!

Rule of familiarity.

We have known Shanks since day one of One Piece! Shanks has always been the reliable guy and Kid was introduced to us as being reckless killer. Blackbeard too has been the bad guy since his introduction while we as readers have spent a decade with Law!

I am more invested in Law! I have seen his struggles, ups and downs and what he is capable off!

With Kid it has always been a distanced and tinted pov. Shakky introduced him to Strawhat as a worst generation who killed people to have higher bounty than Luffy. Then when three of them met, Kid picked fight with Law and Lu!

It was fun watching Kid get beaten up by Shanks! But obviously with Law it was different emotions; because we know him better!

Let it be a reminder!

Defeating Blackbeard and Shanks is not going to be easy! Kaido was the trial round for Luffy, and it took him 5 battles! And the biggest issue with Luffy’s future opponents Blackboard and Shanks is not the difference of power but the difference of planning. Luffy though he has matured a bit; is still a punch first talk later boy. As for Blackbeard and Shanks, they have been playing chess of survival for all these years!

Kaido, Big Mom, Doffy, or anyone Luffy has fought previously has always underestimated him; until Charlotte Katkuri! Luffy is an Emperor of the Sea! Neither Blackbeard or Shanks will give him the half-hearted treatment of toying with a rookie!

Yes Lu is a God, but still a rookie! And next two opponents are people who don’t always rely on strength but brains all the time! They both have planned and plotted to reach this far! It will not be easy!

I think chapter 1081 establishes the final journey to One Piece for Luffy has begun.

[jadedrrose]

The Silent Reaver - ch. six

You and Law speak again, discovering each other for the second time in your lives. Things get revealed, and suddenly, your life changes.

other chapters

Warnings: don’t wanna spoil anything but!!! This chapter is very cute imo. Also this isn’t proofread, so there may be mistakes.

Sleeping had been rather difficult last night. 

It was hard to explain why, but you felt such terrible heartache over the fact that Law had seemed so uncomfortable with you, after the little incident, at least. He hadn’t even said good-bye, and deep down you knew he did hear you. You would’ve heard him teleport away if the lie you told yourself had happened; that he could’ve left before hearing you. 

Your feelings were unwarranted, really. You barely even knew the man. The person you did know was from thirteen entire years ago, when Law was still a broken, traumatized little boy. Now? It was hard to say who he really was. A pirate, warlord, your target? And those were simply titles, they had nothing to do with him personally.

And yet your heart broke at his silence. 

You’d cried last night, trying to bury yourself under the sheets and forget it all.You were foolish to feel such hope that a person you hardly knew would return your feelings. Why would he? Law was a stoic man, hardened by everything he’d been through. Romance was probably the last thing on his mind.

When you woke up today, an overwhelming feeling of regret and nervousness washed over you. Maybe you were being dramatic? To think that Law was uncomfortable with you, when he’d spent so much time talking with you, being kind to you, including you in his plans? But soon you’d have to converse with him again, and you prayed that his unspoken question wouldn’t be brought back up, as you had a feeling he wouldn’t accept your answer. At least, if the question he was going to ask was the one you thought he’d ask.

Still, it was a bit strange of you to wish he’d like you. He didn’t owe it to you, so really it was rude of you to hold that against him. 

You decided a shower would help clear your thoughts. Rising from bed, you stretched your limbs with an audible yawn, before making your way to the bathroom.

–

You didn’t feel exactly hungry this morning. You chalked it up to your uneasiness, deciding to just skip breakfast and tidy up your room in the meantime. Though, it seemed like somebody had other ideas for you. It was right after folding your clothes that a strange feeling washed over your body, and all of a sudden, you were in a different room.

Looking around, you took in the new surroundings and came to the realization that you now stood in the office you’d been talking to Law in the previous day. Your eyes quickly landed on him, and your lips fell open to form an ‘o’, putting the puzzle pieces together; Law had used his devil fruit to transport you up here.

“You should be glad you did that now and not fifteen minutes ago,” you snapped, a playful undertone in your voice as you spoke, “I was in the damn shower.”

“I’d apologize, but I didn’t do that, so…” Law trailed off, his eyes unable to meet yours now. It seemed like his face was partially hidden in the fluffy collar of his coat. 

You bit your lip, wondering if your words had embarrassed him. He… wasn’t imagining if that had actually happened, was he?! You hoped not, but then again, you’d planted the idea in his head. 

“So… why’d you bring me here?” You asked, sitting down on the desk behind you.

“To continue our conversation from yesterday,” Law replied, finally looking at you again. “We really only discussed our plans, not about ourselves.”

“I guess you’re right,” you pursed your lips, thinking about what to say next. “Um… what else do you wanna know, then?”

“Just about you,” Law said, cooly. “I want to know who Y/n is. Not Reaver.”

You could feel your cheeks burning at Law’s words, body flushing as your feelings were brought back to the front of your mind again. “Well… I’m not even sure myself sometimes,” you answered, honestly. “I like to pretend I’m a calm, intimidating woman, but that’s who Reaver is, I guess.”

Law simply watched you, waiting for you to continue. His gray eyes seemed to convey that he was intrigued. 

“Really, I’m only myself around the girls,” you frowned, realizing you didn’t even feel comfortable with your own ‘family’. “Most of the guys creep me out too much. And I prefer not to get bold with them, kinda like how Baby 5 does.

“She and I act more like sisters now,” you continued, “we bicker sometimes, but most days we spend our free time together, gossiping and just being girls, you know?”

Law shrugged at this. Did he not know any women? You really had no idea about who was in his crew, other than some Mink polar bear. But that was the extent of your knowledge. Perhaps he’d never witnessed a friendship between two women. 

“You don’t know, I take it?” 

“There’s only one woman on my crew,” Law replied. “So I wouldn’t know.”

A spark ignited in you. Jealousy. Only one woman? Why would there only be one? Running a hand through your hair, you tried calming your feelings down. Even if this one woman had… relations with Law, you had no right to be jealous. 

“She’s just another crewmate, if that helps you feel better,” Law rolled his eyes, a little smirk playing on his lips.

Your eyes widened, and you could feel your face burning up again. How could he tell? “Wh-what? Feel better how?” You tried playing dumb, but your flushed face gave it all away.

“You act like I have no clue about your mannerisms, Y/n. I know when you’re feeling certain ways. Just like how I knew you’d lied to me yesterday.”

“Th-thats- I’m not jealous, or anything. So what if there’s only one girl on your crew?”

Law simply laughed, a full one at that. The sound played at your heartstrings, making it pound within your chest. Oh, how you’d long to hear it again. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“Whatever,” you huffed, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “L-lets talk about something else. Um…”

“What are your hobbies?” Law then asked, but you could still see a look of teasing in his eyes. He wasn’t going to let you forget about your little lie.

“U-uhm. Other than practicing with my weapons, I uh… like to draw. That’s a secret, though. Otherwise I’d be forced to spend every non-working hour of my day with Giolla.”

Law chuckled. “Okay… what else?”

“Um… I read stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?” He pried.

“It’s… nerd stuff. You’d think I’m weird-”

“Just tell me, promise I won’t judge.”

With a huff, you gave in. “Fine. Comic books and r-romance novels.”

“Comics? Which ones?” 

He’d ignored the second part of your answer, and for that, you were glad. “I like all different kinds. Sora’s a good one, though.”

Law’s eyes widened, and you couldn’t help but notice the way his body leaned forward, like he was incredibly intrigued. “You… read Sora: Warrior Of The Sea, too?”

“You like it?” You raised your eyebrows, genuinely surprised Law would be into something like that.

“W-well. Everybody from the North Blue likes it,” Law rolled his eyes. 

A giggle left your lips, “I didn’t get into it until I was… mm, I dunno, sixteen? We were already living on Dressrosa by then.”

“You’re still from the North Blue, though,” Law argued. “It’s… my favorite comic.”

“Really? That’s cute.”

“C-cute?!” Law snapped, eyebrows furrowing with anger. 

You laughed as you observed the man in front of you. “Sorry. That’s cool,” you corrected.

Law rolled his eyes, copying your earlier movements in crossing your arms. “You’re teasing me.”

“As if you weren’t teasing me five minutes ago, hypocrite!”

Both you and Law laughed in unison at the banter, any awkward, unknowing tension between you guys entirely gone now. It was starting to feel the same way it did back thirteen years ago, when you were kids. Like no time had passed at all, and you were close again.

As your laughter died down, fading away into the cold eerie air, Law cleared his throat. “This… reminds me,” he began to say. “I um, was going to ask you something last night, but then…”

“The prisoners came in,” you finished for him. “And then we… yeah.”

“Right.” Law awkwardly coughed, despite not needing to. “Do you feel the same as back then?”

“How so? I do feel like we’re best friends again, even if we only re-met two days ago.”

“W-well. I just… there was a… connection between us, and even though we were kids… we…”

You weren’t sure what happened just then, but your body surged with confidence, deciding to make a bold statement. “We were… kinda like… um, I guess not fully so since we were kids, but… in love?”

You could see Law’s breath leave his mouth through the cold air as he let it hang open, and you could hear it hitching as you spoke. His face seemed a bit more red than normal, and with amusement, you watched as he tried lowering his hat to hide his face. “Y-yeah. That.”

Looking to your feet, you licked your lips before biting them, a cold numb feeling washing over them as they were now wet, clashing with the cool air of the room. You’d have to answer, but… would it be so hard to be truthful? Every sign Law gave you showed that he possibly felt similarly. Like he was simply too shy to say the words himself, possibly due to sharing your feelings. Suddenly, admitting your feelings didn’t seem so frightening.

“Law, I… I do feel, um, the same.”

He didn’t smile or frown, and you weren’t sure what he was feeling now. Was he relieved? Upset? Was he just dense and didn’t realize he was acting as if he liked you?

“That’s… I’m glad,” he whispered, voice nearly trembling. 

Your eyes lit up at his words, heart feeling like it was going to explode at any moment now. Law did love you, then?

He approached you, suddenly, and you had to crane your head up to make eye-contact, as he was taller than you. “I… shit, I wasn’t sure if I was making a good choice asking, but… It’s good that I did. Y/n, all this time… all these years, I couldn’t forget you. I was afraid you’d become another puppet to Doflamingo, that there was no possible way you’d forgive me for running away with Corazon.

“And yet, even though I didn’t really know what you looked like anymore, my heart couldn’t forget the way that I… liked you. And now I think… I think, fuck-”

You placed a hand onto Law’s cheek, feeling how warm his skin felt. Your fingers brushed along his sideburns, thumb gently rubbing against his tan skin. Your faces were so close now, close enough that you could see every speck of slight gold and blue in his gray eyes. That you could feel his warm breath falling from his lips and landing on yours. One of his cold, tattooed hands gently grabbed your waist, holding you even closer together. 

“I love you,” Law admitted, gazing into your eyes with a longing, but also with a look of sadness, like he’d been tortured by not seeing you for so many years. But most of all, the warlord looked scared.

Closing your eyes for a moment, you opened them to see Law’s gray ones searching yours, looking for your answer. 

“...Law,” you breathed out his name, allowing your free hand to move upward, wrapping it around him to feel for his raven hair poking out from underneath his spotted hat. 

Not wasting another moment, you inched your lips closer and closer with his, before finally connecting them. You let your eyes close again, allowing yourself to melt into the kiss, to become one with Law.

Though awkward and afraid, Law returned your movements, letting his lips form against yours, finding the way that felt just right. His lips were smooth and soft, clearly from the doctor taking care of them. He fit right against you, and it made you wonder if his lips were carved to fit with yours, like the two of you were made for each other. His arms wrapped around your waist fully, pulling you closer and further in to deepen the kiss. 

Time seemingly stood still, this fragile moment between you and Law being so ethereal and loving that you wanted it to last forever. You couldn’t tell seconds from minutes anymore, as you held each other, bathed in each other’s essence within this cold, dark room. 

Soon, you felt Law pushing against you, his body forcing you to take a couple steps backward until you collided with the desk, falling onto it. Though his lips never left yours for a second, and he lowered himself to keep the contact between you both going. 

He was so, so warm, filling your entire body up with a heat that was nothing short of love. You wished he’d kiss you forever and ever. Damn it all, the mission, your life as a high-ranking, well respected assassin; you wanted to stay with Law and only with Law. Nothing mattered anymore, and it almost hurt when he finally pulled away, leaving you both gasping for air.

Law licked his lips, and the sight had your heart trembling as you watched in awe. 

You practically leaped to connect with him again, but Law stopped you, placing one finger between his lips and yours. “Y/n… wait.”

“For what? Please Law, let me kiss you more,” you pleaded, head dizzy with love for the man in front of you.

“Not yet,” he stammered, your words having a strange effect on him. “I… just want to make sure… this means you’re mine now, right?”

You giggled, finding Law’s question endearing and quite cute. “Of course it does. I don’t want to be anybody’s but yours, Law.”

“Good,” he hummed, before kissing you for the second time, making your heart pound within you, butterflies swarming in your stomach all over again.