#whenever i see him it triggers my fight or flight instinct

[ardengrey]

this strange older man i met at my job has a weird fixation on me and he keeps calling whenever i'm working and writing me love letters and shit and i finally just was like screw this and lied and told him i had a boyfriend i lived with (:

[spadecentral]

Hey, I’ve got that Obey Me Teen MC brainrot too aksjshdhdhd There’s a particular prompt that’s been on my mind lately and I’d love to see what folks who make headcanons like you would make of it. Never sent a request like this so sorry for this is too long and/or all over. Tw though for abuse mention!!

Tl;dr: I’d be really interested to see what your headcanons for a situation where a teen!MC, who has an asshole dad and is used to fighting him for younger siblings despite being terrified of him, (at least initially) associates Lucifer with their Dad too strongly and it shows through their constant fight-or-flight responses. Like, fighting him like their lives depend on it when one of the brothers is in trouble for something but then running/hiding whenever they themselves are in trouble for something.

It’s based on the fact Canon!Lucifer is uncannily similar to my abusive dad in every single way (dw tho my little siblings and I are safe). I know that’s pretty heavy, so feel free to disregard! Was just curious enough to get it out there lol

🥊 Fight or Flight | Lucifer

>> requested: yes >> a/n: none

>> masterlist: pact maker >> summary: Teen!MC Associates Lucifer with their Abusive Dad, which triggers a fight-or-flight response >> reader prns: they/them >> warning(s): LESSON 6 SPOILERS; mentions of being hurt; scene of being hurt

“MC!” Luke’s voice rang in the underground tomb when they and Beelzebub came down.

MC noticed a big, heavy-looking book in Luke’s hands, the boy standing in front of the row of demon brothers. Lucifer was livid. This wasn’t good. This was horrible.

Immediately, MC rushes to the blonde angel. “Luke, you’re okay, right?”

“Yeah but—“

​​“MC. Do you happen to know why an angel is in our basement, and holding the grimoire?” Lucifer’s voice ran cold through the slightly damp room.

MC disregarded it as best they could as they checked on Luke. Only after they were 100% certain he was okay did they turn to the eldest brother. They moved the young blonde to stand behind them and put a protective arm out for good measure.

“You are not going to harm Luke.”

“MC. He’s holding the GRIMOIRE.”

“YOU ARE NOT GOING TO FUCKINGHURT LUKE, DO YOU HEAR ME?!”

“Don’t you dareuse that tone with me.” Lucifer seethed, stalking up to MC. He expected the teenager to back down, seeing their nerves act up and their fingers pick at their nails. “Stop this nonsense and let me deal with the angel by myself. I’ll give you and Beelzebub both a suitable punishment later.”

“I will fight you.” 

Four words were all that came out of their mouth. Four words that made Lucifer lose control. His authority had never been tested—to this extent—and especially not in his own house.

When Lucifer lunged for MC, they instinctively swung and hit his jaw. They turned around as fast as possible and picked up Luke before tossing him into the arms of Beel. “ Don’t let go of him until I te—!”

Their sentence was cut short by Lucifer, who had picked them up and sent them flying into the wall in a fit of rage.

Crack.

That one noise alone stopped all motion.

The only thing heard was Luke’s desperate cry of MC’s name.

Blood seeped down over the side of their face. In an ever so excruciatingly slow manner, MC opened their eyes.

“MC I—“ Lucifer started.

But at the sound of his voice MC felt wide awake and scrambled to their feet.

“Don’t— don’t you touch me.” They wavered on their feet as they tried to remain upright.

“Human, you should really—“ Mammon started.

“Shut up!” They yelled, before clasping their hands over their mouth. Swiftly, MC ran in the other direction, up the stairs, and out of the basement.

Lucifer wanted to go after MC, but as soon as he took a step in their direction Beel—with Luke on his shoulders—, Mammon, and Satan were all blocking his way up.

“We think it’s best if you take some time away from them.” Beel said, his voice as monotone as ever, even though it did have a slightly angry twinge to it.

After some push-and-pull, Lucifer went up to his office with the three following closely behind, not allowing him any close-contact with MC.

For mostly the rest of MC’s stay at the Devildom, they would avoid Lucifer as much as possible. Even more than before. They’d try to avoid talking—or even looking—at him at the table. They’d take new routes to their classes if it meant avoiding the eldest brother. And even tried so hard to forget that Lucifer existed that they don’t even use his name anymore. They want nothing to do with him and will try to stay as far away as they possibly can.

i gave up

[snowthornes]

🍕, 🥊, ❤️, and 🧠 for Thorne? or any other OC of choice!

ASK GAME: THORNE BRIERS | SHEPHERDS OF HAVEN | OMNI

sdsdhg thank you so much for sending an OC ask, I'm 🥹🥹🥹very happy!! Going to monch those ask emojis like candy grams fr

First, I'd like to clarify that Thorne Briers is an OC that I've technically had for five years! I use him in multiple universes, but for this ask I'll be answering for him in the context of the SHOH universe 🤺🤺🤺

MINOR SPOILERS FOR THE ALPHA BUILD BELOW!!

🍕 — What is their favorite food?

Thorne is a huge fan of food — one of the first things he does whenever arriving at a new city is to sample their specialty dishes! As a result, he has a lot of favorite foods, so this is a bit difficult to narrow down. But! I shall try my best to rise to the challenge!

Thorne has a notable fondness for Halek's creations. He’s always first in line to taste-test Halek’s many culinary experiments, and he’s gained quite the reputation for it. There was one time when he came home from a patrol around Haven, anticipating Halek’s latest kitchen creation — only to find that it had been demolished by the other Shepherds. He was so genuinely disappointed that his face, according to an anonymous source, "came dangerously close to resembling a heartbroken cat's". It was an expression so rarely seen on him that those in the vicinity had to do a double take.

Thorne loves salty and buttery flavors. He's obsessed with them. I cannot stress this enough, if Blest had anything remotely similar to our world's honey butter chips, he would be All Over It. As for his favorite food, he's extremely fond of salted butter tea — for the reasons stated above!

He also loves anything loaded with cheese, or spices, or both, so some of his other favorite foods include: Smoked lava cheese buns and root vegetable gratin (Ambryn specialties), and steamed dumplings in chili oil (Korgoth specialty)!

🥊 — What do they love to do? What do they hate to do?

WHAT HE LOVES TO DO:

Thorne would say something like 'composing music on the violin' or 'embroidering personalized designs onto his clothes'. And while he does like doing the aforementioned things, I, his creator, would have to say that what he really loves to do is... sleeping in!

Yes. Thorne Briers here is a very, very big fan of sleeping in. It's almost sacred to him. As a Captain-now-Commander, his sleeping-in opportunities are few and few between; but when he does get the chance, he practically leaps at it! Good luck getting ahold of him during the mornings of his days off — he refuses to leave his bed until he's slept at least 2 hours past his usual waking time, and anyone who tries to rouse him before that is in for a very creative, yet groggily mumbled series of death threats.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, it's a common sight to see him dozing off beside Halek to squeeze in some quick power naps during particularly busy days at the Order! Thorne's self-aware enough to know that once he crawls into his own bed, he'd probably never leave it — so he makes do by finding a spot near Halek and taking his naps there. He finds Halek's lackadaisical demeanor to be soothing and trusts him to have his back against any possible attacks or wayward insects, so they're well-known napping buddies!

WHAT HE HATES TO DO:

... Anything that involves getting up close and personal with crawly/slimy bugs and insects! It can really get in the way of his missions, but he hates the damned things. The sight makes his skin crawl and triggers his fight or flight — mainly flight — instincts like nothing else.

In chapter 4, the faceless lord is described to sometimes appear as a rotting corpse crawling with beetles and worms. You can bet that Thorne was fighting the urge to vomit for more reasons than one. Even days after he eradicated Buubas, he can still feel his skin crawl out of the blue — like beetles were crawling under his skin. That's how much they bother him. He can handle getting thrown off a cliff with gritted teeth and sharpened eyes, but getting close to those things? Hael.

And, yes, chapter 7 was a very bad time for him. The Bleakmoor swamp is a breeding ground for all sorts of unholy mutated insects; the chapter once mentions how Blade dislodges a nest of wriggling leeches when he moves a shrub, and I honestly think Thorne considered handing in his resignation then and there.

As it was, he just turned stiff as a board and did his damnedest to hide his discomfort — he hates appearing vulnerable/emotional — but by then everyone knew him well enough to tell what was going on.

Chase had to really double down on his jokes and chatter to get Thorne's mind off of the insect breeding ground they were currently slogging through. And it worked, somewhat! It's notoriously easy to make Thorne laugh, a fact that has surprised many who have known him. It's safe to say that Thorne's experience with the swamp would have been much more miserable if Chase hadn't been there. Later, after the whole kithma business had somewhat settled and Thorne had taken an unholy amount of baths, he would take Chase aside and sincerely — if somewhat awkwardly — thank him for his help.

❤️ — What is one of your OC’s best memories?

This is a closely guarded secret of Thorne's, but he's actually quite sentimental — or, in other words, a massive sap. The experiences he had in chapters 3 and 4 were pivotal for his development as a character, and affected how he behaves in chapter 5 and beyond.

One of his best memories is, oddly enough, waking up in the Reach and eavesdropping on Blade absolutely ripping into the Hunters for his sake. It was kind of an enormous "Oh" moment for him. The realization that he now has people who'll look out for him, that he has people who'll get angry for his sake.

Thorne is a bleeding heart turned cynic. A flash of clenched teeth and glacial eyes. Faith is a safety net he discarded long ago, the moment he wiped his entire village off the map with the utterance of a word. A once-child-now-adult who’s seen and done too much in his years of wandering the world alone. He's someone who refuses to be hurt, who masks and calculates and manipulates in his dealings with other people because you can't hurt someone who's not completely real. Though he'll mix some sincerity into his manipulations in order to make him appear a bit more trustworthy, he'll rarely show you his whole heart. He's taken the leap of trust before, and the fall had shattered his bones. Never again. He'll never expose himself like that again.

So when he wakes up from having his body — quite literally, this time — shattered, only to overhear his Commander, companion, and maybe sort of friend so furious for (mostly) his sake, it's staggering. He's almost bewildered. I think that's when he realized that he's in for the long haul with the Shepherds now; that they won't just be some paragraph in his endless cycle of meeting and departing. And I think that was the moment when the Shepherds gained his utterly unswerving loyalty.So, thank you Blade, I guess <3 Now that I think about it, Blade has had a massive influence on Thorne's development as a Shepherd, right from the very first day off they spent together. What a Commander <3

🧠 — What do you like most about the OC?

I like how unstable he is initially; how his journey with the Shepherds isn't as smooth as slotting a single puzzle piece into place. Before fully accepting the Shepherds as his own, Thorne had to give way. He'd had to take apart the veil of distrust and calculations that kept him safely shrouded from the world, and let them see him. See his scars, see his anger, see him as himself, not as the veneer of carefully constructed eloquence that has practically become a second skin — like a sumptous robe meant to cloak him and turn him into something invulnerable. And it had taken a long while. Hael, he had to fall off a cliff and witness his Commander getting angry for his sake before he even realized that the Shepherds had become people extremely important to him. Thorne's journey is one of change and new beginnings; of daring to envision a future shrouded in sunlight rather than shadow. It's a tale of learning to trust yourself as you learn to trust others. And for that, he is very dear to me.

... This got long. Sorry. SORRY. SO SORRY. BUT. THANK YOU FOR LETTING ME BLAB ABOUT HIM. THANK YOU VERY MUCH ILYSM <333

[sweetmisery-me]

Fire to fire, ashes to ashes chapter 3

Chapter 3 - all my life, I have been hiding myself

Aemond Targaryen x reader 

Flashback 

trigger warning: attempted rape, swearing. 

The flight from Kings Landing to the Riverlands was an easy and quick one and you departed on the first lights of the morning. Siberion roared happily as he took off for the open skies while Vaghar followed you shortly after, her immense shadow obscuring the city as her wings took her higher and higher.

You slowed down a bit to smile and wave hi to Aemond, the expression on his face was unreadable.

At times you didn't really get him.

Despite the contrast they had torn Rhaenyra’s and Alicent’s families apart over the years, you still managed to have a peaceful relationship with Aemond.

First, you had not partaken in the fight for Vaghar at Driftmark some years prior. It’s not like you didn’t care at all but you silently believed it was Aemond’s right to claim whichever dragon would accept his bond, even though at that time you had not considered the military power that came along with the posses of the largest dragon of the world.

In fact, much like your father, you often preferred to watch things unravel from afar, never letting the court gossips and schemes seduce you and get you involved.

You often felt like a ghost in the royal family, being there but not feeling really seen but instead of seeing this as a disadvantage, you used it in your favor to live a life far more freer than any of them could ever hope, sneak out whenever you wished and makings friends with the small folk.

You were of royal blood thanks to your father but your mother was unknown to you; you had being brought to court by Daemon shortly after being born and Viserys had legitimized you as y/n Targaryen but ever since, even though you were considered a true valyrian in every aspect, thanks to your silver hair and deep purple eyes,  you never stopped wondering about your real mother.

Was she one of the many harlots Demon had frequented during his youth or was she a noble lady,  whose reputation had been protected from a scandal? 

Daemon never spoke of this with you, in fact he merely spoke at all.

When he had married Laena Velaryon you had often joined them and the twins in their travels around the world but more often than not, you were on your own, whether it was the red keep or Dragonstone. You craved freedom and never stopped in the same place for too long. Not that there was somebody to really try and make you stay.

Your relationship with your father was a bond made of mutual respect, unspoken comprehension and love for the dragons and he really let it have it your way.

You trusted his instincts and protectiveness and you shared the same distaste for the Hightowers. Your eyes had been following Alicent and Otto moving undisturbed in your ancestors’ home for too many years, scheming and plotting and putting your own family against each other for the sake of their stupid house. 

You did not blame the children but made sure not to interact with their mother and grandfather more than necessary.

When you lived at the red keep, you always managed to spend time with helaena and aemond since childhood, often collecting bugs in the gardens with the second born or studying the history and language of old valyria with Aemond.

Still, your feelings for each other had not changed much during the years. You liked him and respected him, having even told him that claiming Vaghar had been a badass move, but you were still too young to further elaborate your relationship.

At times, thought, when you felt lonely at the Red Keep he was always the one you headed to for company or for a flight . Sometimes, you felt his burning gaze on you from across the room and  when you turned around your eyes met him for mere seconds, leaving you puzzled yet wishing he would look at you like this more and more.

Flying together was a way to convey your shared passions so you made sure to invite him to join you as much as possible, to which he always responded with a low chuckle but in the end he was always up there with you.

In the skies, you felt the Queen of your own kingdom, swearing you would never trade this freedom for crowns or thrones.

This was Aemonds and your first flight together so far away and according to Alicent it would be a way for Aemond to get away a bit from the capital and to prove his worth as a knight of the seven kingdoms.

A small number of gold cloaks followed you from land but you managed to reach Riverrun two days before them.

On the first days of your tour you stayed at the ancestral castle of house Tully, dining with the lord and his family, hunting, dancing and enjoying yourselves.

You were forced to spend most of your time with the lord’s daughters and the ladies of the castle while Aemond was always out with the men.

You tried to ask about more important matters such as : had the harvest been good? Were the taxes too hard or bearable for the people? Did they wish to tell you something to refer to the king?

But the ladies dismissed you with laughs and kept asking with a blush about the famously handsome knights and lords that lived in the capital. 

Y/n sighted. This was not what you had expected.

You found yourself involuntarily thinking about Aemond more than you would admit, often wondering where he was, what he was doing and if he was enjoying himself, unlike you.

Right now, you really wihed you were flying together instead of being stuck there.

The thought of the ladies gathering around him to give a look at the white haired prince and rushing in hope to get his favors, though, left you with a bitter feeling in the guts and you didn’t know why.

Suddenly Lady Miranda, Lord Tully’s second born daughter, asked you about the Targaryen princes and which one you found more attractive. She bet it was Aegon, for they had heard he rode the most beautiful dragon in the world and was the noblest knight to have ever graced the kingdoms.

You suppressed a laugh but they kept going “ And what about Prince Aemond? Well, poor thing, there is not much to say…did you come here to find him a wife? Well that sure seems like an hard quest, at the moment only a blind girl would fancy him, although they say that despite his state, he is not a bad swordsman..”

You suddenly paid attention to your interlocutor and answered with a cold voice “I would be more careful to speak about a Targaryen prince in such a manner, my lady. Prince Aemond is not only to be the finest knight in the Kingdom but he is also the most respectful and charming man you will ever find at court and…”

You immediately shut up, not knowing what had come over you. You had learnt to ignore stupid voices and gossips but you still felt you had to defend Aemond with all your being now. Why?

You excused yourself and started walking away from the now silent group of ladies, frustrated by the situation, when you spotted Aemond standing mere feet from you.

His only eye immediately captured yours with silent intensity and you kept eye contact for seconds that felt like ages before storming out of the room.

You headed to Siberion without sying a world and flew away.

You had no destination in mind and just wanted to be a bit in the air to calm yourself.

Suddenly you spotted a castle on a hill and a pink walled city below you. Understanding your mindless flights had taken you to Maidenpool, you descended and headed for the famous Jonquil’s pool, deciding to have a soothing bath in the magis waters you had heard many stories about.

Once you were about to reach the bathhouse, you heard a loud rumble and noticed a shadow as big as the whole town had just landed next to you.

Vaghar.

Aemond dismounted and came towards with long steps, whispering sharply “Care to at least try and justify yourself, y/n? You left everyone without a word and now you are here alone at Maidenpool? You know how many ill-intentioned would be more than eager to attack a Targaryen alone? 

You looked at him, surprised by his display of attention towards you but then remembered it was just the duty the king and queen had given him.

“I just needed to get away for a while. The Tully ladies were driving me mad, I felt caged at Riverrun..,.at least you are free to move around as you please..and besides I just want to see if the legends about Jonquil’s magic waters are true. it’s not like anything can really happen here… You answered 

“would you like to join me”? you added 

“I will be controlling the borders and watching for your safety from afar” Aemond simply said.

You gave up and headed for the hot spring.

Once in the water, you felt reborn.

The warmth was engulfing you in a tender embrace and you felt all your worries being washed away.

You started swimming around, moving back and forth. Suddenly, between the steams of the hot water, you spotted a long shadow standing some feet away from you. You realised it was Aemond.

He stood proud, the sword in his hands planted on the ground, his back facing you.

He looked serious and firm like the statues of old Valyrian gods, yet fascinating.

You suddenly wished he felt more than the simple duty of being your protector, you wished he would really care about you in more than a way. 

You stopped in your tracks for a moment and your mind went back to the words of lady Miranda, which had upset you so much.

Sure, you were defending Aemond’s reputation for he deserved that and more to you but were you also…relieved that other women did not lust over him? You could not say but felt your heart twist in unknown, confused and tangled emotions.

To distract yourself, you could not resist and, getting closer, splashed him with some water.

He turned around abruptly but, hearing your laugh, he relaxed and chuckled “having fun, aren’t we?”

You kept getting closer to him, getting bolder and splashing him some more.

Suddenly the steam dissolved and you were right in front of him, your body bared before his good eye.

When you realised he was seeing you, you froze where you stood and blushed hard but did not attempt to cover yourself. The force of his gaze was magnetic and you could not escape it; it took you seconds to realise he was not turning around either but instead was taking you in shamelessly, his cheeks only a bit red.

You held his gaze until you were snapped out of the moment and, with a laugh, splashed him in the face and then ran away. 

“Catch me if you caaan” you screamed happily.

He followed you from the shore, spotting you here and there, half hidden by the stream.

The innocent game had turned into an exciting chase of stolen gazes, laughs and carefreeness.

Suddenly you disappeared into the white stream and he lost your figure.

You kept swimming and venturing downwards until you reached the limit of the pool.

Deciding to go back you looked around one last time and you spotted a dark figure moving towards you

“Aemond ?” you called with a hint of malice in your voice, for you really wished he would see you again

But it was not him.

Suddenly two harsh hands wrapped around your middle body and got you out of the water.

A dark haired man with a long and dirty beard seized you and muffled your screams with a big hand on your mouth.

“What do we have here?  little dove got lost? every once in a while I get lucky and find one of you little stupid ladies here “ he stated proudly 

After a good look at you he smirked and added “ How strange, a white haired dove, it seems …I wonder how i got so lucky to get my hands on a targaryen whore….

Remembering your fathers teachings, you tried to free yourself by kicking his knee but he was stronger than you and with a backhanded slap stopped your attempts to escape.

You finally managed to scream but he reduced you to silence again.

“You will do me a great service, my lady… I bet your family will pay a lot to see you free again but first I think I'll take my pleasure with you. After all it is not everyday one can say he has fucked a dragon”

Your face turned pale and you felt sick as he started caressing your soft exposed body, fondling your breasts, pinching your nipples and moving his hand everywhere he could reach.

You started crying silently again and watched him as he unbuttoned his trousers.

You were not ready for this, you started panicking, violated.

He pushed you down to the ground and held you in place by your wrists as he hovered over you with his big smelly body.

You managed to let out a faint cry again, just as he was aligning himself at your entrance.

You felt him press his member against your folds and you screamed again, the man too busy to cover your mouth.

As he was about to start pushing in, you felt a roar.

The steam evaporated to the flap of wings; siberion was in front of you, growling and snapping his fangs at the man.

He retreated almost immediately, his half soft ridiculous dick exposed as he tripped in his own trousers.

You were too shocked to say anything but Siberion anticipated you and moved his neck in front of your frame, shielding you and waiting for your command.

Benefiting from your shocked state, the man tried to get away but the cold blade of a sword pressed against his neck.

“I wouldn’t do that, you scumbag cunt” Aemond’s voice growled, sharper than the blade.

The man instantly knew why they said not to wake up the dragon.

Now he had managed to piss off three of them and the price would be high.

Aemond looked at you with worried yet deadly eyes, demanding blood but kept your eyes on the ground, your still wet body shaking and trembling.

Before Aemond could end the man’s life with a single swing of his sword, you screamed “stop!”.

Aemond looked at you questioningly but did not reply.

Without looking at your assaulter, you stepped in front of him and simply said “dracarys”

Siberion roared and breathed yellow-bluish fire on the doomed man, erasing his body from existence.

After that you collapsed but Aemond did not let your body touch the ground, wrapping you in his strong arms and covering your still naked body with his dark green cloak.

You hugged him and, without saying a word, you stood there and cried.

You spent a couple hours simply holding on tight to Aemond’s body, his big frame hovering over you protectively and his hands patting your head and caressing it softly.

Vaghar and Siberion laid on the ground around you, as if to shield you away from the world.

Aemond kept whispering sweet valyrian words and melodies the whole time to calm you down.

At dusk you got out of your numb state, as if you were emerging from a fever dream and you decided to spend the night at Lord Mooton’s castle. The noble man simply had to glance once at the dragons outside his house and welcomed you inside in no time, offering you a dinner fit for a king and a queen.

You ate almost nothing and went to your room.

Once there you started collecting your thoughts. You still felt those lurid hands on your body, violating and humiliating you. Your first intimate touches had been stolen by the violence of that filthy being. 

You could not believe you had been so stupid, Aemond was right… after all, you were just a body and a name to exploit to those people, nothing more. 

You decided you would never travel disarmed and feel helpless again, You were glad for Aemond but you felt humiliated at your powerlessness, you would be able to defend yourself in the future, you would train and never allow anyone to touch you again without permission.

This resolution made you feel better but you could still not fall asleep.

Looking at the moon for counseling, you started thinking about Aemond again. He had protected and comforted you and your heart could not help but beat faster at the thought of his large, gentle hands shielding you from the cold.

You wanted that again, over and over.

With the excuse of asking him to train you, you searched for his room.

You found it after mere minutes and knocked nervously.

Aemond was on the other side of the door, a soft expression on his face.

“Are you having troubles sleeping, y/n?” he inquired

“Will you invite me in or not, aemond?” you asked in an almost inaudible voice.

He moved to the side with a puzzled expression and you entered the room.

You both stood in silence until you declared “I just wanted to thank you for what you did earlier. I was reckless and should have listened to you but in the future I will be able to defend myself, if you will allow me to be trained by you in the sword fight. I will be strong and you won’t need t…”

Aemond cut you off by cupping your face with his large hands and you felt him burn with urgency yet softness “ what happened is not your fault, y/n. That shitface shouldn't even have dared to look at you. I should have been there sooner and defended you with my life, for I promise you, you won’t ever fear again with me by your side. I would die protecting you”

Your eyes widened at his confession while his words buried themselves in the most hidden corners of your conscience and you looked at him with fondness “Aemond,I could only dream of these words..”

You hugged him and he rested his chin on your head, murmuring “I will never forgive myself for allowing another man to touch you or to even desire you in that way…”

“I want you to desire me like that” you murmured without really thinking about it.

Aemond's gaze met yours with surprise “ I would never defile you or take advantage of you, y/n… I am not like that scumbag or my brother…”

“I know that, my dear Aemond, “ you smiled shyly while twisting a strand of your hair, “ but does my opinion mean so little to you? If I were to choose among any man in this world, you are the only one I would willingly give me to right now. I know you would never harm me…”

“Would you give yourself to me, y/n? Are you sure about this?”

“Yes, Aemond, I want to be yours entirely” you said with the most serious tone.

Aemond was rather funny to look at, at that moment. He stood there, wordless but with the cutest expression on his now quite red face.

Nobody had ever spoken those words with such fierceness yet sweet sincerity to him. Sure, he had been with other women in the past but you were an entirely different matter.

In that moment he felt the luckiest man alive.

You giggled and stepped closer to him.

Aemond closed the space between your bodies with a single step and he took you by surprise by saying “ Besides, it was only my pleasure to defend you, my dear y/n after you did the same for me this morning, putting those ladies in their place”

You felt your cheeks flush with delight and embarrassment. He had heard you, then.

But then you got serious again and said “I know they are just stupid girls but had they tested me any further, I think I would have enjoyed hearing their dying laments as they burnt”

Then you laughed and Aemond looked at you with adoration in his eye(s).

Aemond opened his mouth a bit and exalted a soft breath, then he smiled and moved his forehead closer to yours, not daring to touch you yet.

Your nose lightly bumped against his and before you knew it, you chose to take the lead. First you kissed the tip of his nose, then his cheeks, his forehead and last you lingered over his soft, beautiful lips.

His lips immediately responded to yours, finally placing themselves where they should always have been.

Your first kiss felt lighter than the clouds you always touched while flying on Siberions back.

Not feeling satisfied you closed the distance again, finally filling the hole you often felt in your chest whenever he was in the same room as you, by claiming his lips as yours.

He returned the kiss with crescent fervor and impatience and in no time his hands found their way to your hips while your hands tangled in his long shiny hair.

You kept kissing until your hand reached the back of his head and his eyepatch.

He stopped, suddenly aware and insecure of it.

You smiled and asked for his permission to remove it.

“are you not gonna be disgusted by it, my lady?” Aemond asked with a hint of insecurity and shame.

Right now, he could not be more distant from the brooding, dominant mask he always wore thighlier than his eyepatch. 

“I want to see you, Aemond. I do not care about it… besides, you should not flatter yourself so much, you know ? there are far worse terrors in this world than a missing eye” you simply replied with a sincere smile.

He lowered his head and placed your hands on the patch, signaling you to go ahead but before proceeding, you raised his chin with two fingers, making eye contact with him.

With the eyepatch off you could finally see all of him, his full scar, the missing eye, the dead and cicatrized tissue around the old wound.

Both Aemond and you held your breath, waiting for each other’s response, Aemond fearing your rejection and you too occupied contemplating all the peculiar and charming traits of his face, thinking they would be enhanced and complimented by a gem in place of the missing eye. 

You got closer carefully and planted a light kiss on the scar.

Aemond finally relaxed, smiled and, finally taking action, picked you up by the waist, kissing your nose and making you giggle.

He placed you onto the bed and looked at you with intensity, the proximity of your body almost intoxicating his senses and making him lose his usual composure.

The events had unfolded really fast and now he was on top of you, looking down at you with a hungry expression.

You cupped his face with your hands and dragged him down to rest on top of you.

You felt contrasting emotions within you, the desire and the fire he ignited in you burned like destruction and raw needs, but his closeness also brought you immense peace at this moment, both feelings you had with him and him only.

That night you spent many hours lying comfortably  into each other's arms, sharing kisses that were sweet, passionate and desperate for each other's mouth at the same time, telling each other many things you had never revealed to anyone else, secret wishes and memories from your shared childhood and the hopes you had for the future.

That night felt like the tenderness you often had been deprived of in the past and the promise that from now on, no matter what would happen, you would always be there for each other.

author’s note : I wanted to go feral and unleash the hard smut but I decided to save it for the next parts hehehe

[woozisnoots]

losing you | yoon jeonghan

° pairing: jeonghan x f!reader, jun x f!reader ° genre: soulmate!au, bittersweet angst ° summary: losing me is better than losing you. ° word count: 1.5k ° warnings: implied death but details aren’t explicit! i promise the fic itself isn’t bad >< ° a/n: TEEHEE @vibecheckvernon​​ SURPRISE I’M UR TCT SECRET SANTA !!!! 😌 posted this a little later for prime angst reading times :D I HOPE YOU HAVE A GREAT CHRISTMAS!!! p.s. pls don’t sue me i love you <3

inspired by: @95boysbe​ ‘s fic, ‘when you love someone’ (tysm for all of you for helping me find this again! 💓 pls go check out their work as well!) + wonho’s song ‘losing you’

masterlist!

jeonghan has no intentions of going to his family’s christmas party. at least not this early. looking into his appearance in the mirror, he wraps the red checkered scarf around his neck so the ends nicely drape over his white long sleeve shirt tucked under his matching sweater vest. a festive look to hide away his disinterest buried in his “enthusiasm”.

“daddy, are you not coming with us?” jeonghan jolts by the sudden tugging of his sweater from his side, looking over, forcing his eyes to meet with his daughter’s watery orbs.

he crouches down to one knee so he’s completely eye level, tucking in the loose strands of hair behind her ear. “not yet sweetheart. daddy’s gotta pick up a few things for the party.” he opens his arms wide for the tiny human to bury herself in a bear-like embrace. 

“stay by mommy’s side at all times, okay?” the little girl steps back to face her father, her hands gripping onto jeonghan’s index finger. “promise?” he continues to persist until she sniffles a series of nods. a small melancholy smile creeps onto jeonghan’s face as he wiggles himself out of her powerful grasp and cups her cheeks, creating small circles on her soft cheekbones with his thumbs. 

“good girl. i’ll be back before you notice i’m gone.” 

the walk there is shorter than jeonghan was expecting and it almost makes him sick to his stomach. he wants the anticipation to subside by the time he gets there, yet at this rate, he would arrive with nothing but the swell of guilt weighing down inside of him. 

the winter chill makes him shiver, hiding his balled fists in his pockets. the farther he walks, this once familiar street slowly turns into the abyss as the fog erases his footsteps along with the glimmery lights surrounding him. but jeonghan is only focused on the dark pathway ahead of him. weeks after hearing the news, and an additional few months of “recovery”, his imagination has conditioned him for far worser environments than some cold weather. 

the field of clean cut grass beside him is now closed off, barred by a wired fence painted white indicating he was getting close. it was a foolish thing really. this entire time, from the moment jeonghan left the house until now, he’s been trying to find the right words to say to you. what he would say to you if you were willing to hear him out. question he desperately wants answered. jeonghan lowers his head, scoffing under his breath knowing you probably would have. even though he knew himself that he didn’t deserve it. and neither did you. 

he comes to a pause at the entrance, reaching out to maneuver the chains that lock the gateway. taking a slow deep breath in, jeonghan looks up before entering the place of the dead, only to see that you already had company. 

the hint of discomfort causes jeonghan’s body to stiffen - the sight of an tall, unfamiliar man here with you triggering his fight or flight response, his instincts urging for the first rather than late. why would he be at a place like this? and on christmas no doubt.  

jeonghan takes his time walking towards you both, eyeing his physique up and down from afar. as he got closer, he examines the man’s notable facial features. the longer he stares, the more confused jeonghan gets causing him to crease his eyebrows. neither of you know him. jeonghan shakes the thought away- no, he doesn’t know him. maybe within the time you were away, the two might have met. jeonghan keeps his mind neutral, accepting all the possibilities. 

the mysterious man dressed down in this cold december, notices jeonghan walking this way before he could stop in his tracks to presenting himself in front of you. chuckling at the grimace look on jeonghan’s face. 

as respectful as he could possibly mutter, jeonghan opens his mouth to speak, “who-”

“so you must be yoon jeonghan,” he’s quick to cut him off, knowing exactly what might be running through his mind right now. he nods his head towards him, acknowledging the new, delighted presence that fills the air. “my name’s jun.” he watches as the imaginary fumes streaming from the top of jeonghan’s head start to dissipate. “a friend of hers back in america,” he lied, not that jeonghan would ever know anyways. “she talked a lot about you. it almost got annoying. 

just like how jeonghan did, jun studies him in his entirety. a smirk forming on his lips finding that he looked exactly how you described. as well as his own description: a good for nothing low life with faltering loyalty. jun scowls at the ring wrapped around jeonghan’s finger. “talk about that red string of fate, huh,” his words protrude the thick musk that wavers around them, finally breaking jeonghan’s walls. “don’t mind me though. i’m just here to pay my respects as a friend,”jun says, his words laced with sarcasm. 

jeonghan freezes in his spot, feeling only a tingling sensation in his fingers and toes as the flood of memories of the two of you replay in the back of his mind. the entirety of your childhood, including your teenage and what was there for your college years. until the dreaded day you decided to leave. “so, you knew?” he whispers more so for his curiosity rather than looking for an actual answer. 

and from the look on jeonghan’s face, jun could tell. “yeah,” he says just enough for jeonghan to hear. “i knew a lot.” he averts his eyes away from the soft hearted gaze that now appears on jeonghan’s face. 

jun may not have known you the same amount of time as jeonghan did. but the way you wore your heart on your sleeve despite being so vulnerable even after the fact, jun can pluck out things even jeonghan probably never noticed. how jeonghan could ever leave his soulmate for someone else, jun will never fathom at the thought. 

but jun knew your side of the story, how you felt watching your soulmate drew you guys apart. no, he wasn’t your friend per say, not in his official title anyway. when you were admitted into the hospital, jun was only there as a volunteer. he had a responsibility to look after all his assigned patients as comfort companions through their clinical care, including you. 

you were the hospital’s one exception. at the point of your critical condition, doctors truly didn’t know when the time would pass. knowing no one else in the states aside from your family, jun soon became your side by side as hospital bed buddies. and hated every moment of it. 

he hated the way you smiled so brightly for him every day despite how sick you were. but stare blankly at your food whenever it came to you and end up not eating. he hated how you easily created friendships with the nurses and other caretakers at hospital, including himself. but refused to take your medication. he hated how fondly you talked about love when you weren’t feeling it. he hated hearing the sniffles that came from your room every morning after he clocked in. he hated it so much that you still smiled saying your soulmate's name even though he was doing the same thing for someone else. in the end, jun was too late to tell you all that.

fate, being the sick bastard that it is, has jun meeting the one person he actually came to hate. and he’ll do one better. just like how jeonghan never got to know about your true feelings and conditions, jun will never tell him how much he truly cared for you. how he was entirely convinced he, a person who wasn’t even destined to have a soulmate, could fill the void that jeonghan had left. 

the longer jun stands there, the small pit of anger quietly begins to boil and that was his cue to leave. he avoids eye contact as he stirs away from the flowers he left you and tries to make his exits, stopping at his tracks when jeonghan speaks once again.

“then can i ask you something? your opinion as her friend. since you know,” he hiccups, the words coming out a beat too late. his voice also shaky, not knowing if it was due to the cold or the rise of his nerves. 

jun leans on one leg, stuffing his hands in the side pockets of his leathered coat. he almost says no. he wants to say no. “shoot,” sounding unbothered. 

“do you think she’d still want to be my soulmate in a different life?” 

jeonghan’s heart churns at his own question, as does jun’s. he could have asked any other question, but out of the hundreds he accumulated in the mile walk here, jeonghan figured this was the one that jun could at least give some thought. 

jun takes a sharp inhale in, his nails forming small crescent moons into his palm. with a heavy sigh, he turns back around and scoffs at the sight of jeonghan tearing up in front of you. and with gritted teeth, he responds.

“of course she would.”

[avengerscompound]

Until the End of the World - 9

Until the End of the World: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count:  1795

Rating:  E

Warnings: pregnancy, Anxiety

Synopsis: Four years after Steve and Bucky got to the bottom of the HYDRA conspiracy that had led to you and your son being hunted for the first three years of his life, you, Bucky, and Steve have carved out a nice life together.  Things are calm and you feel like a family unit.  When Geo starts calling Bucky and Steve ‘dad’, a decision is made to try and add to your family.

Things aren’t as calm as they seem.  When your pregnancy hits the papers, HYDRA rears its head once again, and Steve and Bucky need to track you down to protect the family they had created.

Chapter 9

There was something very comforting about how quickly things just fell back into a routine.  Yes, there was still a great deal of excitement about the baby.  Yes, there was morning sickness and check-ups to deal with.  Yes, you were under pressure to finish your thesis before things got so chaotic that you wouldn’t be able to.  Yes, you were doing all this while living in one of the guest apartments while most of your stuff was under plastic sheeting.

Even with all that, things felt calm and normal.  You had work and classes.  Geo had school and soccer and music lessons.  There were kids’ birthday parties and dinners with the Avengers as a group and just one or two at a time.  You had trips to the grocery store and the farmers’ markets, and meals to prepare.  You were living your very own version of a normal life - and as strange as it was, it did feel normal.  You were a family expecting a baby just like millions and millions of other people in the world right now.

That was why it caught you off guard when you realized you were being followed.  You were in your sixteenth week of pregnancy and clearly showing.  Your baby bump wasn’t enormous - you could move around freely and had quite a bit of energy, but it was definitely a pregnant belly.  Random old ladies would want to touch it and Bucky and Steve had taken to caressing it absentmindedly in bed or pressing their hands on it while you sat together in the hopes they might feel the baby kick even though it was still far too soon for that.

You were walking Geo to school when you became aware that something wasn’t quite right and your first instinct was to run.  You didn’t think you were ever going to get over that severe flight response you’d picked up when you were being hunted.  It was like your trauma had engrained it into your very DNA and whenever something felt off you would prick up like a rabbit checking for a predator, ready to flee at the smallest perceived threat.

You tried not to worry Geo as you drew him a little closer to you and you glanced around.  Almost immediately you relaxed again.  A man was taking your photo from the end of the street.  He was carrying a messenger bag and had a large, high power camera.  The fact he was only barely concealing his existence meant it was paparazzi.

You wouldn’t exactly say you were used to the paps.  They did bother you in groups from time to time.  Particularly if you went out with Steve or both Steve and Bucky.  They would gather around outside the Avengers tower entrance anytime something big happened hoping to get a photo of an Avenger and maybe a word for them to sell along with their photos.  There had been a few times when they’d gathered outside a restaurant you were eating at with Steve.   And on a couple of occasions, they had stalked you and Bucky at the farmers’ markets.  Generally, they were oddly not great at recognizing either Bucky or Steve when they weren’t in uniform.  It was like the stars and stripes distracted everyone’s attention from the face or something.  They also never bothered you when you were by yourself.  It was news you were dating Steve Rogers.  It was big news that you might potentially be dating both Steve Rogers and James Barnes.  You were used to getting little google pings where gossip columnists would speculate about who you were and what your relationship was to Bucky and Steve.

By yourself, there was no news to sell.  By yourself, you were just some nobody with their kid going about their boring everyday life.  The news crews and paparazzi that flocked around the doors of the tower would let you pass unharassed.  So seeing one following you from the tower when it was just you and Geo was a bit of a shock.

Still, they were not a threat to your physical safety.  Just your privacy.  You figured that this one had noticed the baby bump and wanted to get some clear photos of it so they could sell it and someone like Perez Hilton or J. Jonah Jameson could speculate about whose baby it was and rant about the way of the world that ‘The’ Captain America might possibly knock up some woman out of wedlock.

You got Geo to the gates of his school and went in and signed him in electronically.  The school he attended was selected because of their security.  No child went home with anyone that had not been verified as a designated pick-up.  Geo also quite liked the security system and liked to talk to it, so that was an added bonus.

The paparazzi followed you closer on your way home and called out to you asking about the baby.  You did your best to ignore them though you couldn’t pretend it didn’t make you feel uneasy.  Part of it was just that having been on the run from some secret organization that wanted to experiment on you and your son had made you value privacy about all others.  Anyone putting your picture out into the world was enough reason to run.  Adding a complete stranger following you to that, your stress levels were through the roof, and by the time you got back to the tower, your heart was hammering thanks to the adrenaline surging through you.

You got into the elevator and sunk back against the wall.  “FRIDAY, can you take me to Steve?  Make sure you warn him that I’m coming.”

“Of course, miss,” she replied.  “He’s currently talking to Mister Wilson, but I’ll make sure he knows you are agitated.”

The elevator stopped at the office level and you went straight to Steve’s office.  It had big tinted glass walls so you could see him talking to Sam even before you got there.  When you knocked on the door they both looked at you with concern.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Sam said.  “And I’ll send you that intel.”

“Thanks, Sam,” Steve said, walking the other man out.  Steve must have been able to see how stressed you were because he pulled you into his arms as soon as he reached you, and just held you close as Sam left.  “What is it, sweetheart?  Did something happen?  I thought you were going into college today.”

“I was,” you said, melting into him and letting him support your weight.  “There was a guy following me…”

Steve held you out at arm’s length and looked you over.  “What?”  He asked.  “Did you get a good look at them?  Is Geo okay?  Where is he?”

“It’s okay,” you assured him, rubbing his arms.  “It was just a pap.  But they don’t normally follow me when I’m on my own, and it didn’t feel good.  Too many bad memories of my past.”

Steve relaxed and hugged you again in soothing circles.  “Because you’re pregnant?”

“I think so,” you said with a nod.  “I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”  You shook your head a little.  “I know that this is just one of those things I have to deal with because I am with you - and I don’t blame you for it.  It’s not like you signed up for the army to invite the vultures in to pick apart your life.  You just want to make the world safer.  And for me specifically, you have done so much to ensure that.  But I didn’t like how it made me feel.”

Steve nodded.  “I am sorry, sweetheart.”

You nosed at his neck.  “There’s nothing to be sorry for.  I just… Is there anything we can do to minimize it?  Make it unlikely it will happen again?  Or at least make it so I’m not alone when it does.  I don’t like the idea of going back to a full security detail, but…”

Steve shook his head and pulled away from you.  “No, I totally understand,” he said going over to his computer.  “I’ll get you a driver.  They can take you to and from Geo’s school and college.  That way you’re going out through the garage and the cars have tinted windows so they won’t see who you are.  It should be a safer way to go shopping too.  They don’t tend to follow the cars.  The payoff is too erratic because half the time it’s just our agents or they end up going somewhere with parking and losing sight of them.  If you do want to take a walk you can always just take me or Bucky.  And if that doesn’t work we’ll amp up security again.

You moved over to him as he tapped away on the computer and sat down in his lap.  He looked up at you and smiled.  “Thank you for this,” you said.  “I know I’m being stupid.”

“No, you aren’t,” Steve assured you.  “Even if it was just a case of something harmless triggering your past, that’s not being stupid.  I hate when cameras have their flash on.  It gives me flashbacks to the war every time, and it’s one of the only times I feel truly vulnerable because the dissonance between that immediate danger that I feel and the safety of where I am -” he shook his head “- I want to fight and know there’s nothing to fight.  But those people who do that job, they aren’t harmless.  They predate on people.  They have caused the death of people.  Tony’s house ended up blown up because they stalked him while someone was sending him threats.  What they do is not okay, and you not wanting to be alone around them is normal.”

You sighed and kissed him gently.  “I love you so much, you know that?”

He smiled up at you.  “I love you too, sweetheart.”  He rubbed your hip as he looked up into your eyes.  “I had better go back to work.  Did you want to go to school?  I can get someone to drive you in.”

You shook your head.  “No.  I think I’ll just work from home.  Can you have someone ready to do Geo’s pick up with me though?”

“Of course,” he said.  “I might even come down with you, just to make sure the plan works.”

You smiled and pecked his lips, before standing up.  “Thank you, honey.”

“No need to thank me,” he said.  “Keeping you and Geo safe is my top priority.”

You headed out, much more relaxed than when you arrived, and once again filled with a mixture of love and gratitude for the men who you had accepted in your life.

// NEXT

[cockasinthebird]

congratulations on reaching 500 bb, you deserve it!! can i ask for prompts 7 and 115 please?

Dear anon, Thank you!!! And thank you for sending in prompts!!

7. “I want you now.”

and

115. “Come here.”

Not in this particular order, though, but still used quite well, and while I did actually struggle just a tiny bit with deciding which idea I should go for of the numerous ones that came forth, I’m still v satisfied!!! I’ll probably have to write the other ones at some point, but first! 

1.8k words, enjoy~

-

“Harrington!” his voice carries over the roar of a dozen teenagers talking and gossiping throughout the cafeteria.

Everyone goes dead silent, staring at Billy, then they all whip their heads at Steve, who’s frozen with his teeth biting into a piece of meatloaf.

“Come here!” Billy shouts with his eyes burning holes into Steve.

Cautiously he turns to look at Billy, fists tight at his sides, brows pulled strong together in a stern stare.

“What did you do?” Nancy whispers to Steve, leaning across the table.

Jonathan sits next to her, honestly looking more scared than Steve himself. Everyone else looks almost excited, as if they’re waiting for a chance to see blood, the tension palpable in the air, thick and electric like a storm is brewing.

He doesn’t answer, simply drops his food on the tray and stands up, immediately causing a wave of not that hushed whispers.

Steve’s gonna get his ass kicked. Billy boutta tear Harrington a new one! Dead man walking.

It’s kinda hard to ignore. The ocean of students separate before him like he’s Moses as he walks through the crowd. They’re all laughing, snickering, jeering, as the old King Steve approaches the reigning Keg King.

Nice knowing ya, Steve. Good luck. Just give up now, it’ll hurt less. If I were you I’d run away.

But he doesn’t register any of it beyond simple background static, because the way Billy is staring, leering, is setting his soul aflame, triggering his fight or flight instinct, getting him a tad bit too excited.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Billy hisses at him, canines exposed through a scowl.

Steve frowns right back, crosses his arms. “I dunno, you tell me.” They’re standing so close that he can smell Billy’s cologne, feel his harsh breathing against his lips.

Billy looks away from Steve and over his shoulder, going from one peer’s curious gaze to another’s bloodthirsty one, then snarls, “What the FUCK are you all staring at?”

And at that they all scramble around, returning to their places, but it’s painfully obvious that they’re still paying attention, glancing over shoulders with perked ears.

A fist closes around the fabric of Steve’s expensive, short sleeved, open button down.

“Not here,” Billy whispers sharply, nostrils flared, a finger rubbing against the slightly exposed patch of chest hair Steve has to offer.

-

Steve gets pulled along by the shirt, out of the cafeteria, down the halls of Hawkins High, outside, underneath the bleachers, and isn’t released till Billy shoves him against the chain link fence that spans the outer borders of the football field.

Within a second Billy’s on him, lips meeting roughly with such a deep hunger it leans toward too much, but Steve follows his lead, moving fingers up to pull at the golden mullet, breathing ragged through his nose.

Billy’s thick fingers tear through the buttons of Steve’s shirt. He has been staring at him all day, the pale blue shirt having been opened just enough to expose the top of his chest, a hint of hair, and it is a fair move on Steve’s behalf, considering it’s at the start of summer and sweltering hot, nearing 90 degrees already. 

But Billy hates it, in a sense, as he could not focus all day, Steve’s pale skin just teasing him, daring him to stare, inviting him to touch. And perhaps it’s because he’s seen Steve fully naked, flushed, moaning beneath him, marked up in purple and red, that he can’t just go on about his day whenever Steve shows just a bit too much. Short shorts, tight jeans, crop tops, and unbuttoned shirts. It just flicks a switch now.

As he leans away from their brutish kissing, he stares at the patch of hair now fully on display, then catches Steve grinning like the cat that ate the canary. 

“You wore this shirt on purpose, didn’t you?” barely an actual question as Billy runs his fingers through Steve’s dark, rather soft, chest hair.

“I did,” he responds, sounding a bit more winded than Billy. 

“You know what it does to me,” another clear statement.

“I do-” Steve starts with a sensuous chuckle, but winces an interruption as Billy tugs on a few strands of hair. “Ah-h, asshole.”

But they both laugh at that, humoured by Steve’s obvious teasing and insinuation that follows wearing this shirt, unspoken but still heard. Billy leans in, doesn’t kiss Steve even as he opens up with wanton; his need to taste Billy again palpable.

“God,” Billy growls out hot, and Steve eats it right up, squirms a bit under the hand flat on his pecs. “I want you, now.”

“Hmmm…” Steve hums as if he’s actually contemplating something, as if it wasn’t his plan from the start of his morning to end up like this. “How?”

-

Billy spreads his legs out on the backseat of the camaro, not that there’s a lot of space to do so, but enough for Steve to kneel there, balanced precariously on the edge of the bench, as he kisses Billy; a bit softer now but no less passionate.

As Steve makes his way down, across the jaw that tastes of aftershave, the neck that smells of cologne, the chest that beats like a drum, Billy thunks his head against the window, gazing at the tree tops surrounding them where they’re parked in the forest.

Wet, eager, pliant lips follow right behind where Steve’s fingers undoes the buttons of Billy’s dark fuchsia shirt, tongue out to taste the summer on his skin. When he reaches the border of jeans and pulls at the belt, Billy looks down at him to run a hand through his hair.

Brown eyes shoot up, dark and amber, filled with lust, desire and a certain tenderness they haven’t addressed yet. Which Billy doesn’t really want to, just in case it would ruin everything, because he doesn’t believe he can trust his own heart with such a delicate matter, with such a pretty boy.

Steve raises himself to kiss Billy, pushing his tongue in to curl them together, sweet and wet and dear, before he pulls off by an inch with a complacent smile.

“You were really convincing back there,” he laughs quietly, unhooking the belt.

“Oh yeah?” Billy chuckles back. He’s got one arm resting across the backseat, the other up to grab at the headrest for the driver's seat.

“Yeah, had me worried for a moment.” A button pops free and the zipper runs loudly.

“Good, ah-” Billy bites back a moan as Steve’s warm and slightly sweaty hand reaches into his trunks. “Wanted to- fuh-ck- wanted to sell it, make it believable.”

He gasps and groans as Steve works his hand along Billy’s full erection, staring down at those soft, pale fingers squeezing around him.

“Shit Stevie…”

Steve chuckles warmly, smiling as wide as he can go, eyes lidded and heavy with a heated gaze at how Billy becomes breathless by his touch. He scoots down the seating, lying down as much as he can, legs bent into the air, as he faces the girthy cock that throbs in his grasp.

Looks up through lashes to watch how Billy bites into his lower lip, brows pinched together with anticipation as Steve pulls his dick free from its reins. Feels a gentle hand petting his hair when he skims his lips across the burning skin, runs his tongue from the base up to just under the head, following the curve of it with the tip of his tongue.

The hand in his hair is heavy, comforting, pleading, and Steve opens his mouth wide, smears the droplet of pre against his flat tongue, then sinks down on Billy’s cock, stretching his lips around the thickness of it.

Instinctively Billy bucks his hips up, making Steve gag loudly - but he doesn’t pull off, just makes a slightly annoyed sound as he adjusts to the intrusion prodding at the back of his throat.

“Fuck! Fuck, sorry Steve, you just- ah- yes-” at least he tries to apologize, but the way Steve has the head of his leaking prick rubbing against the palate of his mouth makes it a real struggle not to thrust into that gorgeous, slippery heat.

“Mmh, arrh, look so pretty with your lips wrapped around my cock like that, baby,” Billy moans out as Steve starts bobbing his head; fingers tugging on his hair to set the right pace.

Steve says something, not meant to be heard, rather for it to vibrate off of his tongue and through Billy’s steely erection, making him leak worse, groan louder, as Steve swallows around the head.

"God, fuck- you suck dick so so good, harrh- ahh-" 

With both hands in his hair now, Steve moves faster, rolls and twists his tongue, pressing against the bulging veins, swipes against the weeping slit before daring to push his way down to nuzzle his nose against Billy's crotch. 

"F-faster," Billy begs as nicely as he can, voice on edge and rough. 

And Steve's happy to oblige; let's himself be controlled by Billy's eager lust, fists lifting him up till only the head of the thick cock is inside of Steve's mouth, then gently but with intent thrusts back in. 

It's sloppy and obscene as he fucks into Steve's throat, throbbing erection drenched in spit, drool running down Steve's chin as he relaxes. 

"Yeah, fuck, I'm-I'm so-" Billy trails off with a loud groan, thighs tensing, head hitting the window as he throws back, shoving Steve fully onto his dick as he cums, a lot, warm and salty and overflowing almost. 

Steve swallows the best he can around Billy's cock, like he's sucking on a lollipop, hollowing his cheeks, working the muscles in his throat to milk Billy dry. 

As Billy gasps for air, chest heaving, prick softening up real quick, Steve pulls off and licks his lips all satisfied, earning himself a breathless laugh from the other. 

He makes a bit of a show of it, really letting his tongue slide from one corner to another, mouth wide open, crawling further up to then kiss against Billy's lips with an all too happy smile. 

"You're incredible," Billy hums with appreciation and something close to adoration, his fingers brushing through Steve's thick hair, caressing him and soothing where he's been yanking and pulling on dark locks. 

"I try," Steve chuckles.

"Your turn now." And Billy starts pushing Steve away, looking down at the bulge in his jeans, clear as day. 

But Steve shakes his head and catches Billy's hand as it initiates a dive for hard flesh. 

"Later. Pick me up after school and I'll let you fuck me blind here in the backseat," Steve purrs directly into Billy's ear, then removes himself entirely to climb back into the passenger seat. 

[tim-burton-bitch]

Tw: pre-romantic prinxiety, breakdowns, crying, semi-shitty writing, I think cursing this has been sitting in google for a while I wrote this back in like early November at 3 am let me know if there's any others oh and FWSA spoilers

This was written at like 3am and follows a headcanon of Roman having synesthesia in which he paints and describes sounds as imagery and an idea from a comic (unsure who wrote it) where Janus never actually told the dark sides his name this is hurt/comfort right after SvS Redux this also follows the fact Virgil is CENTER BRAIN FIGHT OR FLIGHT IS THE AMYGDALA GUYS CAN SOMEONE ELSE PLEASE DO CENTER BRAIN VIRGIL CONTENT I'M STARVED OF IT anyways and my headcanon that he is also in charge of things that either trigger anxiety or are triggered by anxiety such as depression and neuro-diversity my take on the purple eyeshadow and semi-soft side of Virgil my second oneshot takes place in this same timeline and can be found here

Word count: 2,485 words

Virgil was in his room listening to his music. He had his sketchbook across his lap, his art case was open beside him. Currently he was half way through Soft Shock. He wasn't particularly listening, it was more for background noise than anything. He was humming along absent mindedly drawing as his mind wandered.

Suddenly he snapped back to reality as he felt the bed beneath him sink down with sudden weight. He looked up startled instinctively covering his art, which he now realized was a profile of Roman. He looked to see said prince he had just been drawing in front of him. Roman was looking down at his hands. It was quiet for a moment, Virgil was just about to ask what the hell Roman was doing there when the Prince began to shake. Virgil was speechless as the small shakes quickly turned into jerky sobs. Virgil stared at Roman for a second before closing his sketchpad and reaching a hand towards to crying prince.

"Princey, hey Princey what's... what's wrong?" Virgil didn't understand. He had chosen to stay in his room and calm down instead of taking part in the video. The wedding hadn't gone well and Thomas wasn't the only one thoroughly upset about it. Virgil hadn't thought anything of his decision figuring Thomas could vent about it all on his own to the others. The anxious side needed some down time to calm both his and Thomas' nerves. Now. He was beginning to question the decision.

At first Roman gave no response. He just continued to shake letting tears slip out. Virgil's hand never moved from his shoulder. Being the side in charge of Thomas' amygdala meant he knew how sometimes you just needed to cry a moment with company. With no judgment, no constant pushing to know what's wrong. Just a shoulder to cry on as you gather your thoughts.

Roman looked up. His eyes met Virgil's and he took a shaky breath. "I-" He felt another wave of tears hit him. He paused trying not to cry anymore than he already had. He felt embarrassed. He had meant to come here and invite Virgil to another Disney marathon. Take his mind off of what had happened. Instead he broke down. An how was that fair on Virgil?

"Shhh it's ok take your time. There's no rush to tell me what happened. If you don't want to tell me that's fine too. Sometimes you just nee company, a shoulder to cry on. Believe me I understand. Tell me when you're ready and only if you want okay?" Virgil's voice was soft and understanding. And yet. He didn't sound condescending in the slightest. Roman had never heard Virgil use this tone of voice. It was calming. He felt.... safe and... listened to. He nodded his head realizing Virgil was still waiting for a response of some kind. Virgil gave him his small sweet smile that never failed to melt Roman's heart.

Roman took a deep breath before saying, "I-I do wanna tell you Virge... I do. I just..." He swallowed back another lump of emotion. He couldn't even explain the problem. What was WRONG with him? And yet, despite Roman never finding the words to explain... Virgil's eyes were understanding. Soft and warm, looking at Roman so invitingly. Roman hesitated before leaning in and clinging onto the anxious side in front of him and sobbing. Virgil was startled and Roman clung to his body. He was used to being the one breaking down and he wasn't sure how he could help much. Then again, he WAS the one to break down usually. What helped him? Or what did he wish people would do to help?

Virgil slowly wrapped his arms around Roman's head. Pulling him down into his lap. Letting the fanciful side bury his face into Virgil's shoulder. He softly began to run a hand through Roman's hair, hoping this didn't upset the prince more. He began quietly calming the man in his arms whispering into his ear that he was here. And he wasn't going anywhere, no matter what happened he was there as Roman needed him.

Roman pulled back swiping at his eyes sniffling quietly. He looked down at his lap sniffling once more before murmuring "I-I'm sorry." Despite having pulled back he was still directly in front of Virgil, who was still leaning against the headboard now giving him a questioning look. "For... for this. For... whatever THIS is...." Roman trailed off looking back down at his shaking hands. "It's- it's stupid... I don't know why I'm crying really, I-" he trailed off again.

Virgil leaned forward placing his hands over Roman's to calm him. "Roman it isn't stupid. Whatever this is about clearly bothered you a lot and your feelings are entirely valid no maatter-”

"NO! Virgil it isn't fair on you I'm just bothering you with my problems and you had nothing to do with any of what happened. It isn't fair on you for me to drag you into my problems!" Roman cut Virgil off tears beginning to well up in his eyes again. Virgil stared at him. He was stunned and the look on Roman's face hurt Virgil's heart more than anything ever had.

Virgil sat up properly, taking his hands back to do so. He brought one hand back forward to grab one of Roman's the other reaching out and cupping the prince's face. "Hey, shhh.... it's okay, I promise," Virgil's whisper was soft and comforting as he slowly wiped away a few more stray tears from Roman's face. His other hand rubbing circles comfortingly on the back of Roman's, "Roman whatever bothered you really is valid. And I'm not upset you came here. In fact it's the opposite. I'm glad you trust me enough to come to me with this." He paused, "Roman. You can come to me whenever you need to, whenever you feel like this. I'll listen when you need to vent and I'll be here when you break down. I am HAPPY to help you in anyway I can so please, PLEASE don't invalidate your feelings or think in anyway this inconveniences me. Or bothers me or anything, okay? Can you promise me that?"

Roman was quiet, he stared into VIrgil's dark warm welcoming orbs. Slowly he nodded. Virgil smiled, "So, did you want to tell me what happened or just sit and watch something or whatever?"

Roman laughed, his heart was still heavy and felt weighted down but he couldn't help it. The laughter was short lived though, he let out a sigh as he rubbed a hand down the side of his face. Taking a deep breath in he turned to Virgil and asked, "Do you think lying has it's place?"

Virgil looked at him questioningly as he shifted suddenly a tad uncomfortable. "Well..." he started. Thinking on his answer. He hummed thoughtfully, "Is this about lying as a concept or about Deciet?" he asked suddenly.

Roman looked down and sighed again, "Both I guess...." he turned towards Virgil, "Janus stopped by today during the video. And things got a little complicated, and now I'm confused and don't know what is right or wrong. Everything is upside down and Patton Logan and Thomas are agreeing with Janus and- a-a-and I feel... useless. And I don't know...." He sighed tears streaking down his face again, "I was meant to be Thomas' hero. But lately... I feel more and more like I'm steering him wrong. I-"

Virgil cut Roman off suddenly, "Okay great that we're making headway and all, but... I'm going to have to ask you to backtrack a second before we dive into the angst." Roman looked puzzlingly at Virgil who was quiet a second before asking, "Er... Who- who's Janus?"

Roman stared at VIrgil unsure if he was joking. But Virgil's face was purely confused, his head cocked to the side just slightly, eyebrows knit together one slightly raised his left eye the slightest bit closed and a small pout on his lips. Roman's heart stuttered as he continued to stare at Virgil in astonishment. "Has... has Deceit never told you his name is Janus?"

It was Virgil's turn to stare at Roman, "No???? He hasn't???"

Roman laughed, "I could HEAR the multiple question marks in your voice! Oh my God!" Virgil continued to stare before bursting into a fit of laughter himself.

Tears formed in Virgil's eyes as the shadows beneath his eyes became a brilliant purple. He brought his hand up to rub the mirth from his eyes. "Oh my God! I mean we ARE gay!" he laughed. His laughter cut short when he noticed Roman was staring at him.

Suddenly realizing he didn't have his usual foundation and concealer on with his black eyeshadow to cover those awful freakish markings beneath his eyes he quickly stopped laughing. Romans eyes were still on him and Virgil began to panic.

While Virgil had this realization Roman was having two entirely different realizations. One being that he never heard Virgil TRULY laugh before. He had yet to even fully redgistered the purple shadow that was suddenly black again, far to caught up in the sound of Virgil's laughter ringing in his ears. God, he could listen to that sound until he died and never grow annoyed of it.

"Virgil- You- your laugh! I've never heard it before! I mean I've heard you chuckle and snort sometimes but... WOW...." Virgil stared at the man in front of him. The tone used by the fanciful side before him describing his laugh made his heart skip a beat. He could feel the shadow beneath his eyes going purple and his face going pink.

"I- I guess... I don't know... it's not like it's anything special.... kinda... loud and annoyin really..."

"NONSENSE!! Virgil your laugh! I- I don't even know how to describe it! It's like... like the sound of waves crashing against the cliffside, with the wistling of wind as you walk along a cliff overlooking the sea, JUST before a storm, that breathtaking sound which breaks the ear clogging silence caused by the overhanging clouds. And yet, it IS the ear clogging silence that you enjoy with the sound of the crashing waves and wistling wind." As the words flew from Roman's mouth Virgil's blush deepend his shadow growing all the more purple. Until it was so vibrant there was no missing it even in the darkly lit room. "Virgil... your eyeshadow. Wasn't it black when I came in? Surely I would have noticed by now if it was such a wonderous purple as what lies beneath your eyes now," Roman's calling attention to the shadow caused Virgil to panic once again and the shadow to go a deep black, confusing Roman all the more. "Virgil what? How?"

"I- well- um..." Virgil's voice was small as his heart rate increased.

"Virgil it's okay, you can tell me whatever it is. I promise!"

Virgil took a deep breath turning away and hiding in his hoodie pulling up the hood. He glanced to Roman's awaiting confused face hands fidgeting with the hoodie's strings, "I-" he sighed, "The shadows under my eyes aren't eyeshadow... at least, not right now. They're a part of me, and tied to my emotions they go purple when I'm happy... the happier I am the more vibrant the purple.... When I'm anxious start panicking over overthinking something... they go black, the more panicked I get... the darker they are." Virgil nervously glanced up at Roman who looked shocked. "Normally... I but on foundation and concealer to hide them, and then some black eyeshadow so if I forget to put makeup on or can't be bothered or someone comes across me when I don't expect someone to... they won't question why I suddenly have 'eyeshadow' beneath my eyes. I don't worry about it going purple because honestly... I never expect to be happy. I know it's- it's weird and I'm a fre-"

"VIRGIL THAT'S AMAZING!"

"Wha-"

"I mean not the part that you don't expect to be happy because that's just.... NO! But the rest of it? It's amaing! I love it! Not only does it look cool (in both black and purple) but then I can tell when you're truly really happy! And when you need a good Disneython! I'm assuming that when you're more happy than paniced it's still purple and wheen you're more panicked than happy black?" Virgil nodded. "And what about other emotions? Is it black or purple then?"

Virgil smiled, he always thought they wer freakish that the shadows were just more reminders that he was a freak, but Roman... Roman LIKED them. Virgil couldn't understand why he did, they were weird, but the way Roman's eyes lit with excitment, so starkly different from the dampened ocean filled eyes he had arrived with. "They tend to then settle for whatever I feel closer to then."

"Well I don't see why you cover them up, I love them. I think you should go out without makeup more often," Roman smiled at Virgil before letting out a laugh. "I just remembered I was going to tell you what happened with the video! But I think it can wait till later I wanna try to keep that purple there as long as possible! How does a nice Disneython in my room sound?"

Virgil grinned back at Roman, "That sounds great. And maybe... maybe I will! Go out without makeup that is." Roman laughed, "Oh and... thank you, Roman. For... making me feel less alone, and less like a freak." Virgil gave Roman a small sweet smile before standing and heading to the door. "BET I CAN BEAT YOU TO YOUR RO-" Virgil paused his shouting as he flung open the door and almost ran into Patton.

"WOAH!" Patton cried out, "Slow down there kiddo! Have you seen Roman? He left the video upset and I've been looking for him since and it's been- oh... hey Roman! Are you..."

"Yeah I'm fine Patton," Roman said from behind Virgil with a small smile of his own, "Thanks to Virgil here!"

"Well I'm glad though I wouldn't mind talking to you and apologi-"

"Maybe later? Patton? Virgil and I were about to go have another Disney marathon in my room!"

"Alright kiddos you two have a PatTON of fun then! Would you like me to bring food up to you or will you two be down for dinner?"

"We'll see Popstar, text you the answer later?" Virgil asked grinning feeling the shadow which had gone black when Patton startled him slowly but surely fading to a purple.

"Alright kiddos as long as you two actually eat this time! And not just popcorn!"

"Alright Patton! See you later!" And Roman and Virgil walked away heading to the prince's Disney covered room laughing and teasing the whole way.

Tag list:

@on-fic-writing-spree

[hawkland]

Destiel fic recs/what I’ve been reading (round #1)

Since some folks seemed interested in me starting this, here’s a round-up of what I’ve enjoyed reading in the last...two weeks or so. Not sure how much of a schedule I’ll keep up with these posts, but I’ll try whenever I have a bunch to share before they get too cluttered in my bookmarks.

Some are new(ish), some are older stories, it’s just whatever I’ve stumbled upon via searching tags for particular cravings, recent exchanges, or other recs in the wild. Sixteen fics in total for this round, all below the cut. Basically stories I liked enough that I didn’t just bookmark but I downloaded, so I could re-read without fear of disappearing forever.

Season 15.18—15.20 Fix-its - because we cannot have enough of these ever, right?

One does not simply walk into the Empty by TheSilverQueen  (7.7k) I was practically screaming while reading this one. Because if you are Dean Winchester, that is EXACTLY what you do - walk straight into the Empty to get Cas back and pick a fight with the Shadow about it until you get your way. Inspired by the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice yet wonderfully in character. Might be my favorite fix-it to date because it just felt like...yes, I can see this happening. Exactly like this.

the noise of stars by depugnare (2.9k) - I love this for the look inside Cas’s thoughts and mind—going back to the dawn of creation and leading to his rescue from the Empty. Seems like a lot to cram into under 3k words but it’s very poetic and beautifully written, something that feels very angelic (also, I love the handling of Dean’s soul actually being quite broken after his time in Hell, something I feel isn’t dealt with nearly enough...?)

Enhanced Extraction Techniques by goldenraeofsun (5.8k) This one hurts so good. The Empty torments Cas with visions of Dean coming to rescue him over and over again. How can he know what’s real versus a dream? Bonus points for a nifty Law & Order reference (dun dun).

Occursus by PallasPerilous (4k). Heaven!fic, so read at your own risk. This one I loved for angel weirdness and strange biology at its finest. Dean’s soul basically gave Cas an angelic STD when he raised him from perdition. IDEK but it works and I loved it and if you like fic that skirts on the strange with lovely language, humor, and banter, this is for you.

These Old Bones by Destina (3.2k). Always a delight to share a fandom (once again!) with an author whose style and works I know I’ll enjoy. Wherein Dean and Cas straddle a unique line between Heaven and Earth in order to build the life-and home-together that they deserve. Loving and comforting and with just a touch of the bitter to the sweet.

Command Me to Be Well by prosopopeya (28k). This one hurts a lot before it gets better because they’re both emotional idiots in their own ways. It doesn’t matter in this story exactly how Cas got back; the real challenge is Dean (and Cas) figuring out how to deal with what comes next in the aftermath of Cas’s love confession. Dean acts like sex will be enough (and is all he can handle); Cas wants/needs far more than that, and it’s a long, long road to get there. If you want a story where they don’t just immediately work out great, happily-ever-after after fixing Cas’s death, this is one I’ll rec.

Nothing Equals the Splendor by RurouniHime (7.8k) I know I already mentioned loving this one but I have to put it on my official rec list. Kind of a contrast to the previous rec, here they don’t waste much time at all getting it on, once Cas is back. Delicious first-time fix-it sex with wings and so hot/explosive they practically trash the bunker. I really like smutty fic that doesn’t forget that Cas isn’t human so there are some...unique kinks in how they get it on.

surely heaven wants for you by cenotaphy (3.7k) Heaven fic with steamy first time sex outside. Just...a yummy read with enough angst and feelings to balance things out nicely.

*****

Human!Cas in Season 9 (canon-divergent AUs or Not) - This is where I was recently at on my complete watch-through, so I have a serious craving for human!Cas missing scenes, or AUs where he stays in the bunker with Dean, Sam and Kevin. Hence a lot of reading to scratch that itch.

La cucina. by orange_crushed (3.9k). Total food-porn delight. Dean enjoys bringing new foods for Cas to taste now that he is human and Dean is in the bunker kitchen cooking like the total domestic goddess housewife he is meant to be. This one is yummy in more ways than one and satisfies my craving for pleasure seeking!Cas as well as protective-mama hen!Dean. 

Bibliophile by tiamatv (4k). Human!Cas loves books, on a tactile level and on a story-telling level, too. Dean likes to cuddle. Cas tries to figure out how to read AND cuddle at the same time. Just a happy comforting read that’s like a warm and fuzzy blanket of squee.

A Room of His Own (or not) by Valinde (Valyria) (3k). This fandom is very, very good to this fan of delicious frottage and bedsharing and this is no exception. Especially when it features greedy-for-pleasure!Cas just totally hungry for new experiences and awkward about them at the same time.

Under the sun by orange_crushed (1k). Episode tag for 9x06. Bitchy Human!Cas hurt/comfort wound-care with bedsharing and just...electric with possibilities.

*****

My Wing!Kink let me show you it.

The Care and Feeding of Castiel by MalMuses (24k) Soft. So, so very deliciously soft. Soft!Dean nesting (in more than one ways) in the bunker. Unique and delightful angel-lore relating angels to birdlike-behavior including nesting urges/molting/even flight-or-fight instincts that explains so much of how Cas acts. This is a great AU with Cas starting to regain his wings as things calm down (in an alternative late season setting) and he starts to feel more at home in the bunker. Wing-grooming as he’s molting and regrowing damaged wings acts as a metaphor for Dean & Cas “grooming” and healing their relationship by finally talking about the hurt and miscommunication between them through the years. Much love. Such happy. A+ rec especially when there is @lizleeships art to go with it.

The Care and Keeping of Wings by nekosmuse (2.9k) Crackfic! Pure crack in the absolute best way possible! Cas comes back from Purgatory with.... something different about him. His wings are manifest and everyone can see them. Dean seems strangely proud of showing off his winged angel!babe...even when Cas has them pull over Baby for the perfect dust bath. Poor Sam must suffer both of these idjits and try to keep onlookers away.  IDEK but I loved it.

*****

Random other recs

Blessed Are Those Who Hunger by pollutedstar (3.6k) Character study of Dean and dark reasons behind some of his weird issues with food, relating back to 5.14 (My Bloody Valentine). I might caution that if you have any eating disorder triggers you might want to tread carefully, but otherwise this is a painfully good look at the things Dean will do to protect and care for those he loves.

Mary Winchester, Working On It by alittleduck (9.6k) Saw this one recced on fail_fandomanon and I had to check it out. Mary is trying to figure out Dean & Cas’s relationship. Dean thinks Mary is trying to come out as gay herself. Lots of great/hilarious TFW 2.0 dialog and family banter, and somehow it manages to skirt hitting my embarrassment squick despite the set-up and a lot of awkward situations.

[femmereddie]

strong as the steel we carry (we rise like the sun) [6/6]

pairing: adora/catra fandom: she-ra and the princesses of power rating: general summary: A collection of drabbles from canon moments over the course of She-Ra, Catra/Adora related. This post contains all my drabbles from 5x11 through 5x13. read on ao3

S05E11 Failsafe

Adora felt terrible when she saw Catra curled on her side on the mattress. She looked small and vulnerable, like something drained all the strength she had. Adora walked over to Catra, determined to bring her to Mystacor. She wanted to ensure that Catra felt valued and wanted because she was. Adora had no idea what she would have done if Catra wasn’t by her side this entire time. Making Catra feel loved and secure gave Adora a renewed energy, energy that she channeled to fight Horde Prime. “Catra, are you coming with us to Mystacor?”

“Why would I do that? Seems like you and Shadow Weaver have it handled,” Catra sighed. “After everything she’s done to us, you’re really going to follow her?”

Adora’s heart broke at the betrayal in Catra’s voice. The last thing she wanted was for Catra to think she wanted Shadow Weaver around. “I don’t like it either, but this is the only plan we have; the failsafe could finally save Etheria.”

Catra turned on her other side, away from Adora.

Catra’s action stung, but Adora would not leave her behind just because of Shadow Weaver. Adora would never forgive their former abuser for what she did to both Catra and herself. Adora promised she would not let anyone hurt Catra again, including Shadow Weaver, of all people. Nothing would stop Adora from protecting Catra against Shadow Weaver. “Shadow Weaver hurt us; I haven’t forgotten that. But Prime is hurting so many more people. I need to stop him, Catra.”

“I know, I know. You have to go save the world, spare me the speech.”

“Hey, she can’t do anything to us anymore. Please come. We…” Adora took a deep breath and put her hand on Catra’s shoulder. Catra needed to know how important she was to Adora, and frankly, Adora wouldn’t mind reminding her every day for the rest of their lives. “I could really use your help.”

“Fine. I’m only doing this to make sure Shadow Weaver doesn’t try anything. Not because I like you,” Catra said, grinning.

Although Catra was still looking the other way, Adora smiled back. She knew Catra was just joking, and it made her heart swell. They had a long way to go to defeat Prime, but Adora was happy to see that Catra was slowly overcoming past trauma. She wanted to help her friend in any way she could.

Suddenly, Melog jumped on Adora, making her squeal in surprise. Melog purred in response, while Catra looked stared. Catra was so in love with her best friend that she would chastise herself if she knew of the sappy smile she wore on her face. However, as usual, Catra lost all concept of time and space whenever Adora's ethereal presence mesmerized her.

* * *

“Don’t touch me!” Catra shouted, jumping away from Shadow Weaver.

Catra didn’t mean to cause a scene, but the second Shadow Weaver laid a hand on her, she freaked out. Catra wouldn’t admit it to anyone, except maybe for Adora (although Catra was sure that Adora knew already), but Shadow Weaver still scared her. Her former abuser grabbed her out of nowhere. How could she not react?

Unfortunately, Melog growled at Shadow Weaver, instinctively going into protection mode, releasing the invisible shield they held on the group.

Once they became visible, Adora gasped, noticing a chipped sorceress at the center of the room. Catra and Melog dived out of the way just in time, but it was enough to trigger Adora’s fight or flight instinct. She didn’t even know if she had that instinct until she began having trouble transforming into She-Ra. Hopefully, this time, she wouldn't.

“For the honor of Grayskull!”

But other than a brief flickering of a sword, nothing happened. Adora gasped again, realizing that she had to choose flight. The sorceress spun a magic spell and aimed at Adora, forcing her to jump behind the pillar that Catra and Melog hid behind.

The group moved quickly after that, but it did not stop Adora from feeling like she failed to protect Catra, and it did not stop Catra from shivering because of how Shadow Weaver’s cold hands felt on her skin.

* * *

The strike team followed Shadow Weaver and Castaspella into a secret hallway, where the tunnels of Mystacor were hidden.

Catra crossed her arms and walked, attempting to fight insecurities that Shadow Weaver sprung into her mind.

Adora noticed Catra’s jitteriness and how she distanced herself from everyone else. Adora was still upset that she couldn’t protect Catra, but it wasn’t just about the sorceress. Adora wished she could protect Catra from dark memories, the trauma inflicted on Catra by Shadow Weaver.  “Hey, are you…” Adora began, reaching out for Catra.

As soon as Adora touched her shoulder, Catra instinctively recoiled, thinking it was Shadow Weaver. She was a little queasy being near anyone at the moment, but Adora was always an exception. However, Catra didn’t want to burden Adora with her baggage, so before Adora even finished her question, Catra looked away and curtly said, “I’m fine.”

Adora gently placed her hands on Catra’s shoulders and smiled. With her inability to transform into She-Ra, and Shadow Weaver lurking about, the only thing Adora could do was comfort her friend. “Catra, it’ll be okay. Trust me.”

Catra didn’t say anything, but her eyes filled with hope. She wanted to trust Adora—in fact, she did. The two of them have come a long way over the last three years. But no matter how hard Adora tried, she couldn’t comfort Catra’s trauma away.

But Catra was appreciative of Adora’s effort. She was about to respond, but Shadow Weaver unpleasantly interrupted their moment. “There’s no time to waste. News of our presence will have reached the others by now after that… disturbance,” Shadow Weaver said, looking pointedly at Catra.

Catra glared, but she held her ground. She would not appear weak in front of the person who tormented her for years, no matter how scared she was inside. Hopefully, Shadow Weaver couldn’t hear her heartbeat’s rapid pace.

Adora did not want Shadow Weaver to start trouble, especially since she always tried to push people’s buttons. Adora stepped in front of Catra and firmly said, “Come on, we have to keep moving.”

Adora walked ahead, so she missed Shadow Weaver and Catra glancing at each other, but it was anything but amicable. After a moment, Shadow Weaver walked away, and Catra’s heart rate finally slowed down, despite the fury that still brewed inside of her. However, there was nothing else she could do, so Catra followed the group. As always, she remained on guard for herself and her heart.

* * *

The group finally descended into Mystacor’s tunnels.

Adora led the pack. She wanted to reach the failsafe and get out of there without any more trouble. She stepped forward just as Shadow Weaver cried, “Wait!”

However, as soon as Adora put her foot down, a circle of flames illuminated around her.

“Adora!” Catra cried, jumping into the fire without thinking. If a past version of Catra saw her desperation when she hurled herself into the flames, past Catra would be horrified. Her present self acted rashly and without thinking, and most importantly, without any plan. It was so unlike her.

However, past Catra had not endured everything that her present self had. Catra was running on so many stakes, and she had been for a long time now. Thinking was hardly an option, mostly if Adora’s life was on the line, and the stakes just kept rising. The longer Horde Prime went undefeated, the more Catra didn’t think they would beat him, and Catra’s priority was Adora’s safety. Nobody else (except for Bow and Glimmer) would look out for Adora, not even Adora herself. The prospect of Adora dying from some dumb fire was not an option. Catra had to get her back.

Catra successfully pulled Adora out of the fire, and they tumbled onto the ground on top of each other.

“I’m okay. I’m okay!”  Adora insisted.

Catra unknowingly gazed down at Adora. So what if everyone else stared? Okay, it was a big deal if people looked, but Catra thought Adora would die. Was it so awful to give herself a few moments to revel in the love of her life’s existence?

Adora didn’t move from underneath Catra. Instead, she smirked. “Did you just jump into fire for me?”

Okay, the moment was officially over. Adora was alive, and there was no reason for Catra to lay on top of her, especially since everyone was watching. “What? No! Shut up!” She said, pushing Adora away.

But Adora couldn’t stop laughing. In fact, she snorted. “You did.”

God, Catra was so in love.

* * *

“I see you and Catra are close again.”

Adora glanced sideways at Shadow Weaver, who lingered behind everyone else, waiting for Adora to catch up. Instead of responding, Adora chose to keep walking.

“Do you really think that’s wise?”

Adora stopped and turned to Shadow Weaver. How dare she try and tell Adora what to do about Catra? This woman already did enough damage to both of them, and she always made things worse by involving herself. This time, Adora was going to make sure Shadow Weaver stayed out of her personal life. “It’s none of your business.”

“But it is,” Shadow Weaver said, approaching Adora. “If your emotions are blocking you from becoming She-Ra, it’s all of Etheria’s business.”

Adora’s eyes widened. She hadn’t realized how selfish she might have become now that she was also focused on Catra. Adora loved Catra with all her heart, more than anyone in the world, but Etheria needed She-Ra to defeat Horde Prime, even if Catra needed Adora more.

“How long has it been since you were able to transform?” Shadow Weaver asked.

Adora sighed and looked down in defeat. “It’s been happening ever since the Fright Zone.” She felt her body shake as tears welled in her eyes. “What if… what if I’m losing her?”

Shadow Weaver covered Adora’s hands with her own. “She-Ra is a being of pure magic. To unleash her full strength, you must be focused, clearheaded. But you are letting your emotions pull you in too many directions; Catra, she… distracts you, confuses you. Haven’t you hurt each other enough?”

Adora gasped. It never occurred to her that she could hurt Catra by being powerless. Adora thought of earlier when she was forced to duck behind a pillar because she couldn’t transform into She-Ra. She felt useless without her magic, but more importantly, Adora felt like a failure because she couldn’t protect Catra.

“If you care about her, focus on protecting her; the world needs you as She-Ra right now, not Adora. And if She-Ra can’t stop Prime… then we are all doomed.”

Adora angrily pulled away from Shadow Weaver’s grasp. She hadn’t realized that she allowed Shadow Weaver to manipulate her once again, and at Catra’s expense. Adora had to be more careful; otherwise, she might hurt the person she loved most.  “I will stop Prime. No matter what.”

Adora was relieved she recognized Shadow Weaver’s manipulation before things got out of hand. She could only imagine what would happen if Shadow Weaver’s words infiltrated her head. They might have destroyed Adora and Catra’s relationship for good. Thankfully, that didn’t happen.

Unfortunately, Adora did not know that someone was eavesdropping just around the corner and that someone happened to be Catra.

* * *

To say that Catra’s emotions were running high was the understatement of the century.

After overhearing Shadow Weaver and Adora’s conversation minutes earlier, she had no idea what to think. Nothing Adora said surprised Catra—Adora’s priority would always be saving Etheria, even if the price was Adora’s happiness.

But at the same time, a glimmer of hope sparkled inside Catra. She didn’t want to think stupidly, but she heard Adora stand up to Shadow Weaver. Adora wasn’t interested in following Shadow Weaver’s advice. Maybe, just maybe, Adora loved Catra enough (even if it was platonically) to choose her over Etheria. Still, Catra shivered, thinking of Adora listening to Shadow Weaver. Of Adora deciding that Catra wasn’t worth it. The insecurities that stirred inside Catra didn’t make her confident that Adora would choose her, either.

“Someone needs to go inside and… accept the Failsafe? What does that mean?”

“It means the failsafe must be bonded to a willing soul and carried to the Heart of Etheria in their body to be deployed.” Shadow Weaver’s words sent chills down Catra’s spine. Something about that didn’t seem right. Shadow Weaver made the task sound simple despite the considerable risk, and Catra was sure there was more to the story.

“And we’re sure that’s… safe?” Bow asked skeptically.

“We can’t turn back now; the Failsafe is within our grasp!”

Catra was horrified to see Adora mindlessly approach the Failsafe. Of course, Adora didn’t think about the consequences of the situation, but Catra did. There was something off about Shadow Weaver’s desperation, and it made Catra’s stomach curdle.

After a split-second decision, Catra lunged toward Adora, grabbing her arm. “Adora, don’t go in there.”

“Catra, this is not the time; someone must take the Failsafe.”

“So, you do it then.” Catra’s suspicions about Shadow Weaver lying only grew with the deafening silence. “I’ve been watching you the whole way in,” Catra began, pulling Adora away from the Failsafe. “You’ve been in here before, haven’t you? You could’ve taken the Failsafe yourself and gotten all of the power you’ve ever wanted. But you didn’t. Why?”

“You’re being paranoid. This is the only way to stop Prime; Adora understands that well enough.”

Catra blocked Shadow Weaver from approaching Adora. There was no way she would let Shadow Weaver anywhere near Adora until Catra learned the truth, even if that meant Shadow Weaver would attack her. “Why does it have to be Adora? What is going to happen to her? What aren’t you telling us?”

Shadow Weaver backed away without answering. The longer Shadow Weaver remained silent, the more nervous Catra became. If it weren’t bad, then Shadow Weaver would have no problem coming clean. However, now her cover was blown, and she was still trying to conceal it. Whatever Shadow Weaver was hiding was not good at all.

“Answer the question,” Castaspella demanded, while Melog growled.

“Whoever uses the Failsafe must absorb the full magic of the Heart when it is destroyed. That much raw magical power would burn any mere mortal apart. None of us are strong enough.”

“But She-Ra is.”

Catra turned when Adora uttered those words. Catra wouldn’t let Shadow Weaver manipulate Adora into doing this. The Failsafe could still burn She-Ra, and Catra was unwilling to risk Adora’s life, even if it cost Etheria.

“Only She-Ra can hope to survive the process; no one else can do it.”

“And if I don’t survive it?”

“Then the magic will be restored to Etheria through your sacrifice. You will give us the power to bring us to victory. Prime will be defeated; your friends will be free.”

Catra was sickened by the way Shadow Weaver held Adora’s face. It was another manipulative tactic, but Catra would not let Shadow Weaver win. She would not allow Adora to sacrifice herself for Shadow Weaver; it wasn’t an option. Catra gasped as she watched Adora seriously contemplate this garbage.

All at once, everyone began shouting, their arguments becoming static noise in Adora’s head. She couldn’t think clearly when everyone attacked each other, but she had a feeling that it didn’t matter, anyway. She knew what she was going to do the minute Shadow Weaver revealed the truth. “Stop it!” Adora screamed, effectively silencing everyone. She turned to her friends. “I’ll do it.”

Adora’s impending decision weighed heavily on Catra’s heart as she realized the consequences of whatever her friend decided. If Catra convinced Adora to turn away from the Failsafe, Adora valued her own life and happiness just as much as she valued saving Etheria. But if she didn’t, then Catra knew Adora would never choose Catra over sacrificing herself, even if she loved her. Catra wasn’t sure what was worse: Adora not loving her back, or Adora loving her but not enough to live.

“No! What? What’s wrong with you?!” Catra ran to Adora, desperately pulling on her lapels once she was close enough. “Shadow Weaver is sacrificing you, why can’t you see that?!”

“Because even if she is, it’s better than Prime getting the Heart and destroying the universe! We’re out of options. This is the only way.”

Catra trembled at Adora’s words, but her friend steadied her. She always had, Catra thought bittersweetly. Adora was always a calming, peaceful presence in whatever chaos that surrounded me. My life is meaningless without her.

Just then, Micah and a few sorcerers burst into the room and attacked the group. Micah aimed at Adora, and Catra helplessly watched as Adora threw her out of harm’s way just as Micah trapped Adora in magical rope.

“Adora!” Catra cried as she raced on Melog’s back, desperate to free her friend. Soon enough, both Catra and Melog were swept into battle.

Adora watched her friends fight the sorcerers, crying out in horror as Glimmer’s father attacked his own daughter. She didn’t believe she could transform into She-Ra, but she had to try. “For the honor of Grayskull!” Adora cried to no avail. “No,” she whispered to herself.

“We have to get out of here!” Bow shouted.

“The Failsafe! We can’t!” Shadow Weaver cried desperately.

Adora had moments to decide what to do, but she had already made her choice. She turned back and headed to the Failsafe.

Catra was busy fighting, but she saw Adora approach the Failsafe from the corner of her eye.  “Adora, no! Please, it doesn’t always have to be you.”

Adora looked at Catra one more time, silently communicating her goodbyes. Once she had the Failsafe, Adora would seal her destiny, effectively erasing any chance of a future with Catra. Then, she ran toward the Failsafe before she changed her mind.

“Adora!” Catra wailed, attempting to run after her. However, a sorcerer zapped her back, causing Catra to fall. She was too late.

Adora screamed in agony as she absorbed the Failsafe. She looked toward her friends, horrified to see that Micah tethered them to the ground with dark magic. Now, Adora was far past anger. She wouldn’t let anyone under Prime hurt her friends anymore.

“For the honor of Grayskull.”

For the first time in a while, Adora transformed into She-Ra. She immediately freed her friends from Micah’s magic and used her own to trap him and the other sorcerers. Then, she ran toward Catra. “I’ve got it, I’ve got the failsafe, let’s get out of here.”

Catra stared at the magical object in Adora’s chest with tears in her eyes. She felt hurt, betrayed, and angry. What was the point of jumping through fire for Adora if she would kill herself anyway? She would never do the same for Catra, but she would sacrifice herself for Etheria without a second thought. Catra should have known better, but Adora’s choice was the final straw. She couldn’t hang around and watch the love of her life die.

So, Catra ran out of the room with Melog by her side, attempting to distance herself from Adora as much as she could.

* * *

Later that evening, everyone had succumbed to sleep from the exhausting day they had. Well, almost everyone.

Catra sat on a box next to her mattress as she watched Adora sleep, the Failsafe plugged into her chest. God, Catra hated looking at that thing. It was a cruel reminder that Adora would never choose her in any scenario, no matter what happened.

Catra hopped off the box and grabbed the backpack she prepared earlier. Then, she left without hesitating or looking back. She paused for a moment when she heard Melog’s cries, but Catra knew she couldn’t stay. It hurt too much, knowing that she would never be enough for Adora. It would hurt for the rest of her life, but maybe the pain would numb if she was hundreds of miles away from Adora.

Moments later, Adora woke up. Instinctively, she looked over at Catra’s mattress, but it was empty. Adora didn’t see Catra or Melog. “Catra,” she gasped, frantic with worry.

Outside of The Rebellion’s hideout, Catra walked with a purpose. Melog hadn’t stopped meowing, but Catra ignored them. She was determined to travel as far away as possible.

Unfortunately, Catra didn’t make it far enough before Adora called her. “Catra?”

Catra broke into a sprint, figuring it would be easier to run than face her feelings head-on. Melog followed.

“Catra, stop!” Adora shouted, going after her.

Catra realized that Adora would catch up, so she jumped onto a tree branch. Unfortunately, Adora caught up by then, and she pulled Catra to the ground.

Catra tried crawling away, but Adora latched onto her leg and dragged Catra underneath her. “You were just gonna leave?!”

“I’m doing you a favor,” Catra said, pushing Adora off. “I’m a distraction, right? Now, you can go save the world without having to worry about me confusing you.”

Adora’s heart broke as she realized Catra overheard her conversation with Shadow Weaver. “No, that’s not true! Don’t listen to Shadow Weaver; this isn’t about her!”

Catra finally managed to shove Adora hard enough, causing her to go flying. She knew Adora already made her decision, but naively, Catra thought if she put herself out there as an option, Adora might change her mind. “Why? Why are you like this? Why do you always have to sacrifice everything for everyone else? When do you get to choose? What do you want, Adora?”

Catra’s question completely surprised Adora. No one had ever asked her that before. Although deep down, she knew the answer, she didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t say anything because she had to save Etheria. Adora had to think of the greater good here. Besides, she was most likely going to die because of the Failsafe. “I… I have to do this, Catra. I’m the only one who can.”

Catra’s heart tore into a thousand pieces. She already knew Adora’s answer, but it still brought her pain she only dreamed about beforehand. Catra never wanted to feel like that again, and the best way to avoid that pain was to leave. Catra wiped her tears and looked away. “Then do it. That’s what you want; that’s what you’ll always choose. I don’t have to stay and watch it happen.”

“Catra, please, stay. I need you.”

Catra saw Adora begging on her knees out of the corner of her eye, but she felt so dead inside that she couldn’t care less. She had to protect her own heart at some point, and Adora seemed desperate enough to say anything at the moment. Adora was just fine these last few years without Catra, and Adora’s life wouldn’t change no matter what Catra decided. “No, you don’t. You never have.”

Then, Melog shielded Catra with an invisibility cloak, leaving Adora to stare at an empty Whispering Woods.

Adora knew Catra was already gone, but she cried out for her one last time. She knew Catra wasn’t coming back, but Adora had to grieve for her lost love.

The love that could have been in another life. Maybe if Adora hadn’t left the Horde, they could be ruling Etheria side by side. Maybe if Adora was never She-Ra. Or maybe if Adora refused the Failsafe, letting herself be selfish for once in her life.

Adora thought about the possibilities, alternate universes where she was happy with Catra. She wondered what they were like. Did they live in Bright Moon’s palace? Were they on their own, moving every few days as wanderers with nothing but a few scraps of food and each other? Or maybe they were in each other’s arms as Etheria crumbled into pieces. They would be smithereens in seconds, but it didn’t matter because they would die together. Together, like it should have always been.

However, pondering on these scenarios was useless. Adora could think and dream all she wanted, but it didn’t change the fact that none of it would ever happen, because, in this life, Adora and Catra weren’t together. In this life, they were more alone than either of them ever was before. And in this life, despite growing up together, Adora didn’t have enough time to memorize Catra’s face before she left. Adora thought that there could never be enough time in the world for that.

So, Adora and Catra prepared themselves to spend the rest of their lives wondering about their great love. A love that could have reached the stars, conquered universes, and ignited magic, if given a chance to bloom. But like a neglected flower, their love wilted and withered to dust.

—

S05E12 Heart Part 1

Catra sat on Melog’s back as they sprinted through the Whispering Woods, running further away from The Rebellion’s hideout. Further away from Adora.

She pondered on the last conversation she had with Adora. Catra was as straightforward as she could be, and it hurt more than any pain Prime could inflict when Adora let her down. Adora was so busy sacrificing herself that she never even thought about what she wanted. And based on her final answer, Catra knew she would never be enough. Catra would not spend the rest of her life being second best to life-threatening situations. Adora would rather jump head-first into death's grip than be with Catra.

Well, Catra would not accept it, but that did not mean she wanted to leave. She just felt that it was her only option. Still, Catra looked behind her and wondered whether or not she did the right thing.

Melog must have sensed something was wrong because they suddenly screeched to a halt, throwing Catra on the ground.

“Ow! What’s wrong with you?”

Melog stood in front of Catra, meowing.

“Stop it. Stop it!” She pushed them away. “I told you, I’m not going back.”

Melog growled lowly and pinned Catra to the ground. Tears escaped her eyes, and she was frustrated with Melog insistence to turn back. “You saw what happened! Adora chose Shadow Weaver, okay?! Not me! Adora doesn’t want me!” Catra lowered her voice and looked away. “Not like I want her.”

Melog comforted Catra by licking her cheek, and Catra sat up and hugged them. They stood still for a few moments, and Catra was glad that she had someone to lean on in tough times, even if that someone happened to be a magical cat.

Suddenly, Catra heard footsteps approaching. Melog shielded them with invisibility, just to be safe. It was a good thing they did because moments later, a Horde soldier appeared. Catra thought it was strange for a random soldier to be walking alone in the Whispering Woods, especially with such purpose. A split second later, she decided to follow.

Catra followed the Horde soldier to a giant outpost. She looked down and gasped, recognizing First Ones’ writing. Then, she looked up and gasped again at a giant machine surrounded by dozens of clones. It was a lot to take in, and Catra’s heart sank as she realized that Horde Prime was planning something big, something that would destroy everything in its wake if given a chance. Whatever Prime had in store would probably ruin Etheria forever.

After almost getting caught by the real Hordak, Catra hid behind a rock and listened carefully. Horde Prime channeled Hordak’s body to speak to his army. “My brothers. The time has come at last. No longer shall She-Ra stand in my way. The Heart shall be laid bare, its power mine for the taking.”

When the surrounding clones began chanting, Catra realized in horror that Horde Prime discovered the Heart, and he found a way to activate it without She-Ra. He was taking the Heart for himself. It was only a matter of time before Prime destroyed Etheria.

Catra watched the First Ones' writing on the ground light up a sickeningly neon green as it traveled through the Whispering Woods. “Adora,” Catra said, realizing that Adora had no idea what was happening. Regardless of Catra’s pain, she had to warn her friend, at least. Catra couldn’t just abandon her, no matter how many times Adora hurt her.

Catra wondered if this was what unconditional love was like—suffering the most unimaginable pain but willing to drop everything just to help the person you loved. Catra always imagined that real love would be all chaos and passion, but these emotions did not feel like that. Unconditional love felt different—it reminded Catra of the first time she saw Etheria after being in space for months. The love Catra felt for Adora saw no end, even though she didn’t think she would see Adora again. Their love was infinite, just like the stars in the sky and galaxies in the universe.

So, without wasting another minute, Catra knew what she had to do. “We have to warn Adora!” She cried, swinging a leg over Melog’s back as Melog broke into a run.

* * *

“It’s okay, Adora. We’ll be with you the whole way, and when we get back, it’ll be a whole new world.”

Adora bit her tongue and looked down, opting not to say anything. She would break her own heart if she destroyed Bow's optimism. These were potentially the last few moments she had with her friends, and Adora wanted them to be memorable. She knew there was no going back for her. This was the end of the line.

Suddenly, Adora heard a familiar laugh. She gasped and looked up, fully alert. “Did you guys hear that?”

“What?” Glimmer asked.

Adora would recognize that laugh anywhere, under any circumstance. She always knew what Catra's laugh sounded like, even when they were enemies. A spark of hope ignited inside Adora's chest. Had Catra come back after all? “Catra?” Adora called, jogging toward the source of the noise.

Adora turned the corner, and lo and behold; there was Catra. “Hey, Adora.”

Adora felt tears of sheer joy prickle her eyes. “Catra, you came—“

“Adora!” Bow interrupted, forcing Adora to look away.

When Adora turned back, multiple versions of Catra walked toward her. When simulated Catra reached Adora, she pressed her forehead against hers. Adora knew it wasn’t real, but she could not help herself—she smiled and leaned into Catra’s touch. However, in a blink, Catra was gone. It was like Adora had dreamt the whole thing.

“You’re going the wrong way; the trail is back here.” Bow said, suddenly appearing with Glimmer. “You okay?”

Without looking at her friends, Adora spoke. “We need to be careful. It looks like this place can still project memories,” she said, collecting herself to face her friends. “We can’t let it distract us,” Adora said, whisking past Bow and Glimmer.

Bow and Glimmer could tell Adora saw something hurtful. Adora only confirmed their suspicions when she briefly lost control of She-Ra. However, Bow and Glimmer knew if they brought it up, Adora would brush it off. Adora would insist that it wasn't a big deal even though she was dealing with a fresh heartache while attempting to save Etheria at the same time.

Bow and Glimmer knew their friend was in a lot of pain, but at the moment, there was nothing they could do. It was not like Glimmer could teleport Catra—none of them had any idea where she went. So, Bow and Glimmer followed Adora, vowing to be there for her in every way they could.  

* * *

After running for what felt like forever, Catra made it back to the hideout, panting furiously. “Adora! Adora!”

Someone else answered instead. “She’s not here,” Shadow Weaver said.

“What do you mean, ‘she’s not here’? Where is she!”

Shadow Weaver stood and approached Catra. “She’s gone to the Heart of Etheria to free the magic and become the hero she was born to be. If you are still so selfish as to try and stop—”

Catra furiously grabbed Shadow Weaver’s lapels. “ENOUGH! This isn’t about you and your messed up power trip anymore. Prime is doing something to the planet. He’s… infecting it. He’s going for the Heart.”

Shadow Weaver processed the information, but before she could respond, they heard a noise. They both went outside and saw a giant hologram of Horde Prime in the sky.

“Rejoice, Etheria, for your day of reckoning has come. I offered you mercy, but you have spurned my good graces. So be it.”

Prime dragged Entrapta to his side, using her hair. Entrapta was crying. “I’m sorry.”

Catra grew furious by the minute. She had no idea what The Rebellion initially planned, but if Prime captured Entrapta, things weren't going well. She had to get to Adora, no matter what Prime said. “Your resistance has been for naught; your She-Ra has abandoned you. All that is left for your world is a terrible and eternal night.” Then, the hologram flickered off.

Catra turned to Shadow Weaver, panicking. “Take us to Adora now!”

“She’s too far away by now; we’d never reach her in time!”

“No. Use your magic; I know you have more power than you’re letting on.”

“It doesn’t work that way, Catra.”

“You’ve done it before! When you—you abandoned me in the Fright Zone, and you’ve always been able to track us our whole lives, so do something good with it for once and help me save Adora before it’s too late!” Catra cried desperately.

Shadow Weaver reached for something in her pocket. Catra thought Shadow Weaver would pull out a weapon, so she was surprised when Shadow Weaver presented an unidentified object. She held out her hand to Catra. “Come here.”

Catra’s eyes widened in shock. She could not believe her speech worked since it was so unlike Shadow Weaver to be selfless, especially at the risk of injuring herself. However, there was no time to dwell on that now, so Catra grabbed Shadow Weaver’s hand.

Within moments, they were in the middle of the First Ones' citadel, standing in front of Bow and Glimmer.

“Catra?” Bow asked, bewildered.

Catra ignored him, latching onto Glimmer’s shoulders instead. “Where’s Adora?!”

Glimmer had tears in her eyes. “She… she left us. She’s headed to the Heart on her own.”

“Of course she’s gone! That’s what she does, isn’t it?” Catra screeched hysterically.

They were interrupted by a crumbling sound above their heads.

“Catra, what is going on?” Bow asked.

“Horde Prime is onto you. He’s—he’s hacking the planet. All of this… is from him.”

Bow and Glimmer looked at each other knowingly. “He’s gonna take the Heart,” Bow said.

“That’s not all. He’s got Entrapta,” Catra said.

“If Prime has Entrapta, that means the other princesses are still chipped. We have to get back up there,” Bow said.

“We can’t just leave Adora,” Glimmer cried.

“I’ll stay. I’ll find her.” Catra was surprised that those words came out of her mouth, but there was no turning back. The unconditional love Catra held for Adora in her heart was strong and unwavering; it would not let Catra abandon Adora, even if she wanted to.

“Catra…” Glimmer began.

“I can’t lose her again, okay!” Catra cried. Then, she looked down, preparing herself for what she was about to say. Catra was scared, but Bow and Glimmer had to understand just how much Adora meant to her. “I promised her a long time ago that I’d look out for her. It’s time I made good on that.”

Bow and Glimmer stood still for a few moments. Catra’s feelings were unspoken, but they knew. Catra suspected that Glimmer knew the second Catra sacrificed herself for the princess, while Bow caught on during Adora and Catra’s reunion. However, neither Bow nor Glimmer felt the need to say anything. Adora and Catra’s love was so powerful that they could go the rest of their lives without confessing, and their love would still be crystal clear. Part of Bow thought Adora and Catra’s love was always like that, even when they fought on opposite sides.

Adora and Catra’s love gave Glimmer so much hope, and she felt privileged to witness how much they cared for each other. Glimmer thought about how lucky you had to be to have someone like that, but Glimmer suspected she had that person right in front of her. Adora and Catra’s love was so inspiring that Glimmer was seriously considering confessing her own feelings. She briefly thought of Bow before she smiled and threw her arms around Catra. “Take care of her, Horde scum.”

All three of them knew that Glimmer meant that in more ways than one. Catra returned the hug. “That’s the plan, Sparkles. And… good luck.”

Bow put his arms around Catra and Glimmer. “The four of us don’t need luck. We’re the Best Friends Squad.”

As Bow hugged them tightly, Catra realized that for the first time, she believed it.

* * *

When Adora opened her eyes, she stood on a cliff overlooking Etheria. This was not an Etheria she knew. It must be what Etheria looked like with magic. Adora was sure she had never seen anything so beautiful in her life.

Despite the breathtaking view, Adora could have never missed the person that came up to her side. Mara.

They stood in silence for a few moments before Adora spoke. “I’m going to save Etheria, no matter what it takes. Your sacrifice won’t be in vain, I promise.”

“But at what cost?”

Of all the things Mara could have said, Adora certainly wasn’t expecting that. She gasped and looked at Mara.

“I never wanted to die. I sacrificed myself, so you would never have to. Why are you doing this, Adora?”

“It’s better this way. My friends will be safe; they’ll be happy.”

Mara cupped Adora’s face. “And you? What do you want when this is all over?”

“I…” Adora trailed off, at a loss for words. Secretly, she knew the answer to that; she always had. If Adora could, she would choose Catra in a heartbeat. But Adora also knew that there was no way they could beat Prime if she didn't sacrifice herself. How Adora admit what she wanted? That would be incredibly selfish of her, and she couldn't bear that.

Adora remembered what Catra asked her before she ran off. When do you get to choose? What do you want, Adora? God, Adora wanted. If she could, she would spend the rest of her life showing Catra that all she wanted was her. But it was in Adora’s blood and bones to be selfless—it was just how she was built. She wished things could be different, but her wants and needs did not matter when Etheria was at stake. “It doesn’t matter. I’m She-Ra, this is what I’m supposed to do.”

Just then, the simulation glitched, and Adora recognized that something was wrong. They must be out of time. Mara held her hands. “You’re worth more than what you can give to other people. You deserve love, too.”

Tears brimmed in Adora’s eyes. This was Mara telling her that she was worthy enough to find her own love. It meant more than it could have from anyone else. Adora dared to hope that maybe this battle would not end in her death. Perhaps she would survive and tell Catra how she felt.

“You’re so close, Adora. Don’t give up yet.”

Adora nervously backed away as the entire simulation turned green. “Mara? What’s—”

“Ah.” Adora’s heart sank as she recognized the voice. She turned around. “Adora. So this is where you’ve run to hide.”

Adora instantly forgot all about what Mara said, consumed with the need to protect and die for Etheria once again.

—

S05E13 Heart Part 2

This was it. This was the end.

Adora clutched her side in agony. She panted as beads of sweat trickled down her face. Adora could not believe that she was about to lose to a creepy monster she could take out in her sleep if she was She-Ra.

Keyword: if. Adora was gravely injured and unable to transform back into She-Ra. She thought she would die by activating the Failsafe, but dying on the ground in unbearable pain? Handed to a monster on a silver platter like she was the main course of his meal? It was not worth it. None of this was worth it. Letting Catra go was not worth it. However, there was nothing Adora could do because she was still about to die at the hands of some weird squid, and Catra would never know how much Adora loved her.

It was safe to say Adora’s day was going terribly.

Suddenly, Adora heard a growl. She looked up and saw Catra charge at the creature, landing on her feet just a few meters away. “Hey, Adora,” Catra said, out of breath.

“Catra! You can’t be here; it’s too dangerous!” Adora tried to move, but she tripped. Right into Shadow Weaver’s arms. “Shadow Weaver?”

Adora was shocked at the twist of events, but she wasn't unhappy. Shadow Weaver’s presence bewildered her, but Catra’s? Adora broke Catra’s heart beyond repair, and Catra still came back to save her. Catra came back for her. Adora tried to stifle her singing heart as she realized how much she loved her best friend.

“Get Adora to the Heart, I’ll take care of this thing,” Catra said.

“Catra, no!” Adora cried. She was not okay with that plan.

Catra’s stern gaze softened when she turned to Adora. “I’ll catch up, okay? Get to the Heart.” However, nobody in the room—not Catra, Shadow Weaver, or Adora herself—believed her words.

Shadow Weaver pulled Adora away despite her protests. “No, no. Catra!”

But Catra was too busy fighting the monster to hear Adora wailing.

* * *

Catra managed to knock down the monster, but she barely caught her breath before the First Ones' writing on the floor lit up neon green. She knew what that meant—Horde Prime was here. She had to get to Adora and warn her before anything happened.

As soon as Catra ran into the tunnel that Adora and Shadow Weaver entered minutes earlier, she heard a familiar cackle. Her heart sank, and her stomach twisted in knots as a hologram of Horde Prime appeared.

“Oh, little sister. What a shame. I had such high hopes for you.”

Catra would not show Prime how terrified she was. She would not fall under his spell, or anyone else’s, ever again. She would not succumb to his manipulation, even if she knew he could destroy her with a flick of his hand.

Unfortunately, Catra did not realize the only reason Prime appeared was to distract her. The monster got up and wrapped a tentacle around Catra’s ankle. Catra screamed, feeling stupid that she fell for another one of Horde Prime’s tricks, despite promising herself she wouldn’t. But Catra did not realize she screamed so loud that the cavern shook down the tunnel to Adora and Shadow Weaver.

Adora’s skin prickled. Catra was in trouble. She had to go back. “No. No, wait.”

“Don’t lose your focus, we’re so close,” Shadow Weaver said.

Shadow Weaver and Adora reached a glowing orb. The Heart of Etheria. However, Adora could not concentrate because of the sharp pain in her hip, a cruel reminder that she let Catra take the fall when Adora should have died. Adora shouldn’t have left. Since when did she let her friends die for her, anyway? She could not hand over the Failsafe without Catra, and Catra’s screams only solidified that.

Adora heard Catra howl again, and Adora suddenly didn't care if she died stumbling on her way back to Catra—she had to save her. Adora was supposed to die at the monster's hands, not Catra. Adora would never forgive herself if Catra died in her place. Groaning in agony, Adora put one foot in front of the other, retracing her path to Catra. It was ironic—no matter what Adora did, all roads led back to Catra.

“Adora, wait!” Shadow Weaver cried, but Adora ignored her.

Meanwhile, the monster used its leverage to drag Catra toward him. She tried using her nails to hold her ground, but it was pointless. All they did was screech uncomfortably loud across the floor, leaving claw marks.

Prime ruthlessly taunted her. “So brave risking yourself for Adora, but it will make no difference. The Heart is almost mine, and when it is, your Adora will die.”

Catra’s eyes widened, realizing she tried her best, but it was not enough. The monster flung Catra into the air and dangled her. Then, he dragged Catra dangerously close to his jaw.

“So tell me, little sister, was it worth it?”

Catra closed her eyes, refusing to answer. She knew this was the end, but she would not give Prime any satisfaction. Tears stung her eyes as she faced death head-on. In any other moment, Catra would chastise herself for fearing death, something she thought she would never be afraid of. But when was the last time she was this close to the end? When Hordak planned to torture her in front of other Horde soldiers? At the time, Catra was devoid of any emotion. She was alone, and nothing mattered to her. But now? Catra thought she had lost everything when she left Adora, but she had built a life for herself. She had real friends. She had Melog. This time, Catra was bursting with love instead of wallowing in bitter hollowness. Now, she was afraid to die because she had so much left to say, but her words would die on her lips as Prime’s monster swallowed her whole.

Catra waited for the inevitable, but a spark of black magic zapped the monster’s jaw, forcing him to release Catra. She tumbled to the floor and landed with a thud.

Catra looked up. She was stunned to see who it was. “Shadow Weaver?”

“Take Adora and run!”

Catra watched as Shadow Weaver cast spells at the monster. Catra stood up, but she did not move, wholly mesmerized by Shadow Weaver’s rescue. “What are you—”

“I told you to run! Now run!” Shadow Weaver shrieked, using magic to send Catra down the tunnel.

Catra was out of her mind. She was absolutely out of her mind. Here was her former abuser, a person who inflicted the most pain on her (other than Horde Prime), ready to sacrifice herself. Catra couldn’t just leave her, no matter how badly Shadow Weaver had hurt her. Catra stood up, but Shadow Weaver ignited a transparent wall at the tunnel’s entrance before Catra could do anything. She banged on the wall hysterically. “Shadow Weaver, no! What are you doing?!”

“Please, Catra. You need to make sure Adora reaches the Heart. The magic must be set free.”

Catra only watched as the monster freed himself from Shadow Weaver’s magic and fought against her. “Stop it; it’s going to kill you!”

“It’s too late for me. But you… this is only the beginning for you. I am so proud of you, Catra.”

Before that moment, if anyone had told Catra that Shadow Weaver would swoop in at Catra’s deathbed, save her, and sacrifice herself, Catra would have laughed. Shadow Weaver? Saving Catra while sacrificing herself? Catra expected Perfuma to stop believing in love before that happened. And Shadow Weaver telling Catra how she was proud of her? This had to be some crazy, wacky dream because nothing made sense. Catra owed absolutely nothing to Shadow Weaver, but hearing Shadow Weaver's words made Catra desperate to do something. With tears in her eyes, Catra wailed, “No! No!”

Catra raised her fist to break through the blockade, but someone’s hand stopped her. “Catra?” Adora croaked.

Catra looked at Adora, acknowledging her presence, before turning back to Shadow Weaver one last time.

In elated horror, Adora and Catra watched Shadow Weaver sacrifice herself to save their lives. After Shadow Weaver and the monster vanished, Adora and Catra remained silent as they absorbed what happened. Catra slowly began to accept that she couldn’t have done anything, despite tears streaming down her face. At that moment, she knew that she would never have the heart to forgive Shadow Weaver, but Catra was thankful for her former abuser’s last act being one of bravery and heroism.

Adora burst into tears, completely shocked. Just minutes earlier, she was walking down the tunnel with Shadow Weaver. Adora still despised her, but the last thing she expected was Shadow Weaver to die for them. Honestly, Adora expected Shadow Weaver to backstab The Rebellion and take the Heart for herself before this. Adora cried because of the shocking twist of events and because she might have been secretly relieved that Shadow Weaver died instead of Catra. No, she was definitely relieved.

Eventually, Catra placed a hand on Adora’s shoulder. “Come on. We have to go.”

Adora and Catra shared a glance, knowing they couldn't waste any more time. Adora stood and hugged Catra instead of saying what she wanted to say. You came back for me. I’m happy that it wasn’t you that died at the monster’s hands. I could not think of any other person I’d rather reach the Heart of Etheria with than you. Maybe if Adora managed to live after all this was over, she would tell Catra everything she felt, but for now, they simply hugged and staggered down the tunnel together, holding each other the whole way through.

* * *

Catra quickly realized that Adora was still in a lot of pain because of her injury, so she steadily held her friend while they walked toward the Heart. Adora caught Catra’s eye, and as usual, Catra stared at her like there was nobody else in the world. At that moment, there truly wasn’t anyone else.

Before Adora and Catra knew it, a glowing object appeared in front of them. They finally reached the Heart, and they both gasped in awe.

“The Heart of Etheria. We made it,” Adora said.

Adora approached the center of the platform, ready to transform into She-Ra to unleash the Heart’s magic. However, as she attempted to channel She-Ra, the pain in her hip worsened considerably. Instead of a dull, throbbing ache, Adora felt like someone was butchering her alive. She screamed as glowing green lines filled her skin.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Catra asked, catching a stumbling Adora.

“I don’t—I don’t know. I can’t transform.” The Heart shook around them. “It’s Prime’s virus; it’s keeping me from becoming She-Ra.”

“What does that mean? Is the failsafe not going to work without her?” Catra asked, although considering that she dreaded the answer, Catra had a feeling she knew what Adora would say.

Adora looked down at her chest, where the Failsafe glowed. She was not upset since she always knew it would come down to this. However, Adora’s heart did twinge in disappointment because she would not live the life Mara wanted her to live. “No, it’ll work.” She paused, then looked at Catra. “Get as far away from here as you can. I have to do this next part on my own.”

“Adora, what is going to happen to you?” Catra demanded.

Adora walked away. “Without She-Ra, the magic will destroy me. I’m sorry, Catra. I’m so sorry. But there’s no more time. It has to end here. I can still save everybody.” Adora approached Catra again, placing her hands on Catra’s head and pressing her forehead against hers. Adora felt idiotic for thinking that a simulated Catra could ever be real. Pressing her forehead against a fake Catra's was nothing compared to the real thing. “It’s okay. I’m ready.”

Catra would not accept Adora’s fate. Well, maybe she didn’t have a choice, but Catra could choose to be there for Adora every step of the way. If Adora had to die, then she could spend her last moments with Catra. Somehow, Catra knew Adora would like that. Besides, this was better than running away with a broken heart. Long after Adora was gone, Catra knew she would be comforted by the fact that their last moments together would be in each other’s arms instead of intensely fighting with each other.

So, when Adora pulled away, Catra grabbed her hands. “No.”

“Catra…”

“No! I’m not leaving. Whatever happens, I am staying with you.”

Adora approached the center of the platform again, and Catra lightly held onto her arm. Catra knew that she would have to let go of Adora eventually, but she wasn’t ready yet. Then again, would Catra ever be prepared to let the love of her life die? There would never be a moment where Catra could confidently say, “let’s do this,” but she wanted to hold on for as long as she could.

Adora and Catra stared at the Heart of Etheria in silence. Suddenly, Adora fell back into Catra’s arms, screaming once again. Catra saw the Failsafe glitch in Adora’s chest, so she did not react in time to catch Adora before she collapsed on the ground.

“Adora?” Catra knelt beside Adora and gently turned her over. This was it. Adora was dying. She was really dying. Although Catra could not stop what was happening, she collected Adora in her arms and said, “No, no, no, no, no. No! No!”

As the Heart of Etheria beat louder, Catra looked up and saw Horde Prime’s infection consume the Heart. Moments later, green lightning spasmed, and Catra tightened her grip on Adora, shielding her from the bolt. After a few moments, she pulled away. “Adora? Adora, stay awake!”

Adora opened her eyes. She should have noticed the swirling green magic infecting the heart, but all she saw was her beloved Catra.

Catra had no idea what Adora stared at, so she looked up too. When nothing out of the ordinary happened, she looked back down at Adora, more confused than ever.

“I’m sorry,” Adora whispered as Catra cupped her face. Adora placed her hand on top of Catra’s.

“Adora!” Catra cried, pulling her close. “Adora!”

When Adora closed her eyes one last time, Catra’s screams were nothing but faint echoes wailing through the cavern walls.

* * *

When Adora opened her eyes, she gasped. Something felt off, but she could not figure out why. She looked at her reflection in a fancy water fountain while inspecting her outfit: a long, simple, and elegant white gown. Hair brushed back and styled. A piece of jewelry on her head. She looked like she was going to a ball.

Just then, the door opened. Glimmer and Catra burst in as Glimmer chased Catra, attempting to brush her hair. Adora noticed they were also dressed in ball clothing.

“Don’t let her touch me; she’s gonna torture me!” Catra cried playfully, using Adora as a shield.

“Do you always have to be this dramatic?” Glimmer asked, but she was smiling.

“Come on, guys!” A deep voice boomed. Adora turned just as Bow approached them. “If we’re late to Scorpia’s first ball, she’s gonna kill us.”

Bow wrapped his arm lovingly around Glimmer’s shoulder, and Glimmer leaned into his touch. “Fine! You’re off the hook. This time.”

Catra stuck out her tongue triumphantly. This banter was happening so fast, and Adora barely had time to process any of it. This scenario was all Adora wanted, but it seemed like it was a dream too good to be true. She was afraid that if she let her guard down, she would wake up.

Bow and Glimmer walked out shortly after that. Catra started following, but she turned back and held out her hand. “You coming?”

All of Adora’s concerns faded away when Catra offered her hand. She smiled and reached for it, but she was caught off guard when Adora’s hand fell right through Catra’s. A simulation. Of course. How could Adora not realize it before? She chastised herself for being so careless.

Adora watched as Catra transformed into Horde Prime, but she did not feel pressured to defend herself. Adora felt like everything was hopeless, and Prime’s words only confirmed that. “A beautiful wish. But there will be no future. Not for you.”

Adora did not know what to do, but it did not matter because Prime immediately wrapped a large ribbon around Adora, suffocating her. The ribbon was heavy, and it dragged her down into nothingness. Adora screamed, but the farther she fell, the more useless she felt. She closed her eyes, ready to give up until she heard a voice.

“Adora! Please! You have to wake up!” Catra cried desperately, standing in the light and holding out her hand.

Of course, Catra was not in the simulation, so through her eyes, Adora lay lifeless in her arms. “You can’t give up. You have never given up on anything in your life. Not even on me. So don’t you dare start now!”

Catra’s hand was so close that Adora almost felt warmth reverberating from it. Still, Catra seemed out of reach. Every time Adora inched forward, pain charged through her body, worsening with every attempt. Tears welled in her eyes. “It’s too late. I’ve failed.”

“No! No! I’ve got you, I’m not letting go,” Catra said, hugging Adora tightly. She did not even know where Adora’s consciousness lay or whether she was even alive, but Catra would not stop now. “Don’t you get it?! I love you. I always have. So please, just this once… stay.”

Adora felt too weak to portray her shock, but Catra’s words did give her enough energy for one final boost. Adora pushed herself up and grabbed Catra’s hand.

But Catra had no idea whether Adora heard her or not. She buried her face in Adora’s neck, praying with everything she had that Adora would live. “Stay.”

Catra did not care that the Heart was about to explode and that the world would crash over their heads. However, Catra turned her head once she heard something, followed by a bright light. She saw a brilliant rainbow transform into She-Ra’s shield. The shield vanished, but as Adora’s hand fell on Catra’s shoulder, Catra realized: Adora did that. Catra’s words made Adora shield them. They made Adora want to live. Maybe Adora had chosen Catra in the end, after all.

Adora opened her eyes and propped herself up. “You love me?”

Catra did not expect Adora to be surprised, so she chuckled. “You’re such an idiot.” Catra knew at that moment, even if Adora did not return her feelings (although Catra had an inkling she did), they would be okay, no matter what. But Adora confirmed Catra’s suspicions when she dopily smiled. Catra’s facial expression grew serious as her insides burst into confetti. Adora looked at Catra the same way Catra looked at Adora.

“I love you, too,” Adora finally said, as the Heart of Etheria beat steadily in the background.

Catra always thought that if this moment ever happened, she would shout from the rooftops: Adora loves me! While Catra still wanted to do that, Adora almost died moments before. Catra wanted to feel Adora’s breath on hers; she wanted to feel her best friend’s heart thump. So, Catra grinned, cupped Adora’s face, and kissed her.

And God, was it a kiss. Adora and Catra were so immersed in each other that they did not see the Failsafe glow and explode, disappearing from Adora’s chest. Once the Failsafe dissolved, a sea of flying colors engulfed them. But Adora and Catra did not feel the Heart of Etheria’s magic—they barely noticed it at all. Neither of them would ever think about it, but they did not see the Heart’s magic because they were too wrapped up in their own love, magic that they created. The Failsafe may have freed Etheria’s magic, but it did not activate itself. Adora and Catra’s pure unconditional love, as bright and as magical as any star in the sky, ignited the Failsafe. Only love, the purest of its kind, in any form, could set Etheria’s magic free. After all, She-Ra came back to life because of Adora’s love for Catra. Now, the Heart released its magic because of the love they had for each other.

The rainbow surrounding Adora and Catra transformed into gold. Everything in the tunnel turned golden as Adora changed into She-Ra. Adora and Catra pulled away, and they both looked around, in awe of Etheria’s magic. They did it. They activated the Failsafe, unleashed the Heart, and restored magic to Etheria.

Adora wanted to stay in Catra’s embrace forever, but she knew she had some things to take care of first. She looked at Catra knowingly; then she stood and walked out of the citadel, golden beams of light reflecting on her.

As Adora walked, she witnessed the crumbling ground beneath her feet turn into fresh green grass. It never ceased to amaze Adora that within moments, the rest of Etheria would follow. She looked up at Horde Prime’s ship—now a brilliant gold—and used her sword to shoot magic toward it, transforming the vessel into a miniature forest. Next, Adora looked down and jammed She-Ra’s blade into the ground. Everyone watched as a golden wave swept away a dark and dreary Etheria.

Once the magic restored life to Etheria, Adora had one last thing to do. She approached Hordak, who Prime was still channeling. Whatever he said, Adora barely heard him, and more importantly, she did not care. She knelt and became face to face with Hordak-as-Prime. “No. You’re wrong. It’s time for you to go.”

So, Adora held Hordak’s face, using her magic to free Hordak and rid the world of Horde Prime once and for all.

* * *

Now that Adora restored Etheria’s magic and Horde Prime was gone for good, Catra had one last thing she had to do.

Scorpia was laughing with Perfuma, Emily, and Frosta, rejoicing the end of Prime’s reign. Catra nervously approached them, afraid of how Scorpia would react. Despite her fears, Catra wanted to apologize to Scorpia ever since she started becoming a better person.

When the princesses noticed Catra coming their way, they stopped laughing.

Catra gripped the back of her neck as her heart skipped several beats. “Hey, Scorpia. Look, I—”

Before Catra said anything, Scorpia scooped her up in her arms and hugged her.

“Oh, there it is,” Catra said. She felt like Scorpia was squeezing her to death, but Catra was secretly relieved that her friend forgave her. Once the celebrations cooled down, Catra would specifically apologize to Scorpia. Catra owed her friend accountability and respect, and she wanted to begin their renewed friendship with no skeletons in the closet. But for now, Scorpia understood that Catra was trying to apologize, which was enough for her.

“You know I’m a hugger.”

“Princess hug!” Perfuma suddenly cried, and she joined the embrace with Frosta. Now Catra definitely felt like the princesses were squashing her. It was never a position Catra thought she would be in, but here she was.

And there was (almost) nowhere else Catra would rather be.

* * *

As everyone caught up with each other, Adora approached a clearing. She saw all of Etheria from where she stood, and it was her first chance to relish in the planet’s beauty. Subconsciously, Adora transformed back into herself, knowing She-Ra would always be there whenever she needed her.

Adora was blown away at the amount of life that thrived on Etheria, especially since it happened so fast. Adora was so mesmerized by the view that she did not hear Catra approach. “Adora?”

Adora turned and held out her hand. It was still so hard to believe that she could put herself first for once and choose what she wanted, and she was elated that Catra wanted her, too. The two of them have come a long way—from growing up as best friends to becoming enemies, to reuniting, to becoming best friends again, to falling in love, and finally admitting their feelings to each other. It was surreal to Adora, and the best part was it wasn’t a dream. Loving Catra and being loved in return was the most real thing Adora felt in her life, and she could not wait to spend eternity with her best friend and soulmate.

Catra took Adora’s hand, and they pressed their foreheads together. “It’s over. He’s gone,” Adora said.

“Good riddance,” Catra agreed.

They stood still for a few moments, basking in Etheria’s warm glow. Then, Bow and Glimmer snuck up from behind and tackled them. The Best Friends Squad rolled down the hill, laughing together. When they slid to a stop, they had their arms around each other.

Bow propped himself up. “So, what are we gonna do now?”

Adora sighed and looked up at the glittering sky. “We can bring magic back to the universe. What do you guys say to one more Best Friends Squad road trip?” She said as they all stood.

“I’m in!” Glimmer cried.

“Obviously!” Bow agreed.

“Of course I’m going with you, dummy,” Catra said, playfully rolling her eyes.

Adora smiled at her friends and hugged them once again. She couldn’t wait to start the rest of their lives. “Then let’s do this. Together.”

[rogue-barnes-16]

BLUE

Summary: Y/n tries to bury her feelings after making a terribly bad decision about Bucky that destroyed what they had. It backfires in the worst possible way.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Genre: 90% angst

Tags:

Submitted for @blushycarol's writing challenge.

Permanent taglist: @notexactlythatgirl @thisismysecrethappyplace @sofreakinmanyfandoms @pizzarollpatrol @bubblycypress87 @1a-girl-has-no-name1 @loislp @lovenaturefirst @dyanna-corona @2ptonpt @goodnightmode @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @mannls @cutie1365 @catch22inareddress @mybooradley @sebastianisasnack @butifulsoul125 @unlikelygalaxygiver

Warnings: language, makeout, implicit sex, feels™️

A/N: this is my prompted songfic for blushycarol's writing challenge! It took a turn like, ngl I did whatever the fuck I wanted with the song but it fits so there it goes, enjoy <3.

Rogue-barnes-16 masterlist

We've broken up and now I regret it

I said goodbye when I shouldn't have said it

"I fixed your boy. He's awake now." She spoke through the wakandan device. "Figured you'd want to see him."

Yeah, it was the princess of Wakanda herself who decided to call me —not even Steve, me— to inform me that the man I loved had finally awaken.

A couple of hours later, T'challa did with Steve the same thing Shuri had done with me, and soon we both left to reach the hidden city.

We met with Bucky.

Steve cried a couple of times, Bucky laughed in a few occasions, and I stayed rather quiet almost the entire time.

After two days, Steve left with the promise of coming back, but I stayed just because I had missed him so much, I didn't feel like saying goodbye just yet.

Despite this, we didn't talk much in those months I had stayed with him. It wasn't like we spoke a lot before, but now it felt different.

I knew why; it was because of me. Because maybe, just maybe, I was terrified that this new version of him, that healed James Barnes, wouldn't love me like his broken self did.

We had reached a point where I didn't know what we were any longer, and I was 100% sure that the feeling was mutual, we were just too scared to talk it out.

I took the easiest, most despicable way and, one morning, I left Wakanda, hoping to spare my heart and breaking his in the process.

A week later I was back, suited up and ready to fight the deadliest threat I would have faced in my whole life.

I survived.

Bucky didn't, and the only thing I could think was that had lost him, and the last words I said to him were 'this is over, I'm leaving you'.

Five Years Later

I even cried but I never meant it

And I don't know why but I can't forget it, forget it

When Fury paired us to go on a mission, I thought it would be easy due to the action, but it turned out to be a watch, and suddenly everything was ten times more difficult.

We had been in silence for at least a long, tedious hour, in a dark room with two windows, waiting for the target to appear, when Bucky spoke.

"Is it true?" I, pretty much confused, turned my head to him, whose eyes were already on me, his back reclined against the wall before me. "that you cried for me." his voice held kinds of fear that I had never heard in him.

"who told you that?" I inquired, starting to get anxious because no one was supposed to know that; no one had seen me breaking down every night for months because of him.

"Steve." he replied, digging his eyes on mines. "Did you?"

My fight or flight instincts made me shook my head no as an initial response, only because of the sudden panic flooding through my veins. "I mean yes- I- no I mean I- I cried for everyone and I just... it-" I attempted to calm myself down before letting out a propper sentence. "it meant nothing. I did, I just didn't... I felt guilty" I finished, my heart racing and pounding as if it would leave my chest. "for everyone I couldn't save."

He didn't say anything else, nor did I.

After our short chat everything was even worse, because I was no longer focused now that the sorrow I had felt those nights was replaying in my head non-stop.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gimme love, gimme dreams, gimme a good self esteem

We remained distant, but at some point, Bucky started to compliment me, to make nice comments, to give me quick smiles and fast 'thank you's, and I would be lying if I said I didn't treasure them.

"You look... great." He'd shyly say whenever I got dolled up.

"Great shot" he would state breathless, passing me by during a mission, to which I would just nod. "Thank for having my back."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Your hair..." he once trailed off with a frown, resting his elbows over the counter.

"yeah, I needed a change." for a second, the part of me I had hidden crawled up to the surface and I asked. "You... Don't like it?"

"No- I mean yes- I- I really like it." he assured me with bittersweet smile. "It fits you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gimme good and pure, what you waiting for?

Gimme everything, all your heart can bring

Something good and true

I don't wanna feel blue anymore

"Barnes and you." Sharon spoke, closing the pantry's door behind her.

"what?" I questioned, turning to her for a moment while she raised her eyebrow at me.

"what are you playing at, Y/n?" she asked, a bit of concern being noticeable in her tone.

We weren't close. No, no we hadn't grown closer, but I sometimes would sit right besides him during Saturday's take-out night, near enough for our thighs to brush.

I'd let him play with my hair from time to time, I'd allow him to come to my room in the middle of the night to lay with me after a nightmare here and there.

I wouldn't complain when his hands held my cheeks in the aftermath of a rough mission, his eyes scanning me with worry and sorrow while pain would most likely be rushing through my body.

I wouldn't scold him if he ever picked me up to carry me into the medical wing after I had gotten injured, even if I could walk. Maybe I would even cling on his neck, feeling his heartbeat fastening.

"We're not playing." I replied noctant, pouring four glasses of wine for all of us.

"Y/n" I sighed. "why are you doin' this to him? You're gonna hurt him and you."

"I don't wanna feel blue." I confessed in a mutter. "no one'll get hurt, I just... Need what he gives me."

Sharon stared at me dumbfounded for a couple of seconds before shaking her head and leaving, mumbling something my ears couldn't catch.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gimme one more night

One last goodbye

Let's do it one last time

Let's do it one last time

One more time

It was during Sam's birthday that I gathered the courage to do what I, deep inside, so badly wanted to do.

I saw my opportunity the moment Bucky approached the barcounter to grab some random drink.

I left mine on a shelf and rushed to reach him and I passed by him, but on my way out of the room, my hand discreetly found his and tugged him with me.

I didn't stop until we reached the nearest room , which happened to be the bathroom.

Without a word, I got him inside and closed the door, backing against it and, with his fingers still intertwined with mine, I pulled Bucky into a kiss.

He stopped after a few seconds. His eyes were sad as he gazed into mines, and I felt a lump in my throat.

"I..." my attempt to speak triggered my tears, and his response was to cares my cheeks and peck my lips.

The terror I had felt 5 years ago of me not being good enough for him to love me anymore came back. My heart pounded against my chest, the voice in the back of my head simultaneously begging me to stop.

"I need this... Just..." I fisted his shirt, bringing him closer to me. "one last time... Please I-"

"are you drunk right now?" he questioned, putting a strand of hair away from my face.

"No." I half lied, pulling him to me into a needy kiss which quickly escalated.

No, I don't love you

No, I don't care

I just want to be held when I'm scared

And all I want is one night with you

Just 'cause I'm selfish

I know it's true

What had happened in the party was never spoken about, nor mentioned.

We had swept it under the rug for both of our sakes —mostly for mine.

We didn't sleep together again, but in very few occasions, I would end up tugging him to some dark place where we were alone and make out until I was out of breath.

Each time that happened, for some reason I didn't understand, Bucky always whispered me the same question.

"Do you love me?"

To which I answered a breathless, painful 'no' that would most likely end up crushing my heart because of the heavy weight that lie carried.

My nightmares at some point had gotten worse, now involving Bucky getting hurt almost every time, so, whenever I woke up in cold sweat with tears in my eyes, gasping his name, I would make my way to his room and lay down besides him.

He would wake up the moment my body touched the mattress, and, as soon as I was under the sheets, he would pull me into his chest with his arms around me, asking me the same question every time.

"what was it about?"

To which I selfishly responded with:

"don't wanna talk. Just hold me, please."

I'm sick of looking after you

I need a man to hold on to

I'm bored of everything we do

But I just keep coming back to you

The first time I snuck under his sheets I promised myself it would be just that one night, that I would allow myself to be so fucking selfish just for one night, but his embrace was so comforting, so welcoming, and his heartbeat and breathing were so soothing, that I ended up being selfish every damn time.

One night, instead of reaching his room scared and trembling, I reached it with anger and frustration taking over my body.

I shut the door loud enough to make him sit upright, staring at me concerned.

"I'm fucking tired of this" I growled. "I'm tired of this nightmares, I'm sick of seeing you dying, I'm fucking done with looking after you in every mission more than I look after myself" I reached a point where I was close to shout as I stepped to the bed. "I want this to fucking stop!"

"Y/n-"

"I can't keep up with this anymore, I'm going crazy because it's ALWAYS THE SAME SHIT."

"You're tired." he stated, climbing off the bed to hesitantly step to me. "You need to sleep."

"I need to fucking get this off my damn chest!" a choked sob escaped my lips. "I keep coming back to you and I hate myself because of this! Because this is my fault!"

"Y/n please..." he wrapped his arms around me and I fought him a little before giving in, breaking down to tears the moment he kissed my temple.

"I was so scared of you not loving me anymore that I fucked everything up" I managed to explain in a vague mumble between sobs. "You're okay and I was fucking scared of not being good enough- I still am... I just keep making it worse!"

He stroke my hair and pulled me even closer. "Doll..."

The door few open and I heard Sam's voice behind me. "What was that? Are you-" Bucky shook my head over me and signaled Sam to leave.

"I love you so much please I'm sorry" he pulled me to the bed without letting go of me and threw the blanket over us.

"I know you do." he assured me intertwining his fingers with mines and placing a kiss on my knuckles. "I love you. I always will." he whispered soothingly.

Gimme everything, all your heart can bring

Something good and true

I don't wanna feel blue anymore 

[shireness-says]

Proximity

Summary: Killian Jones is not an idiot. Unfortunately, he’s also plagued by a problem - the uncontrollable urge to say something, anything when he finds himself forced to share space with another person. Will it ruin his chances with a beautiful stranger forever? ~2.3K. Rated T for language. Also on AO3.

~~~~~

A/N: The other day, I made a fool of myself in a restaurant, and @optomisticgirl was kind enough to laugh at me and tell me it should be a prompt. So, here we are. Thanks also to @snidgetsafan, my utterly stellar beta. She is French and trapped at home, and would like me to tag my “going outdoors whenever you want” porn. You’ve been warned. 

AO3 tells me that this is my 50th fic! Thanks to all of you who have been here since the beginning. Stay tuned - I’m planning something special to commemorate the milestone, which I should be launching in the next few days.

Tagging: @kmomof4, @katie-dub, @thejollyroger-writer, @let-it-raines, @scientificapricot, @profdanglaisstuff, @thisonesatellite, @searchingwardrobes, @snowbellewells, @spartanguard, @ultraluckycatnd, @teamhook, @ohmightydevviepuu, @shardminds

~~~~~

Killian Jones is not an idiot.

(It feels weird to say that, but Killian really feels that it bears mentioning under the circumstances. State it for the record, as it were.)

In most circumstances, he’d go so far as to call himself of greater than average intelligence. He’s smart and charming and quite the conversationalist when the situation calls for it. 

Unfortunately, he’s also plagued by a problem - the uncontrollable urge to say something, anything when he finds himself forced to share space with another person. Elevators are his ultimate nemesis, coaxing him to say all manner of stupid things he regrets immediately.

Unfortunately, it’s not limited to elevators. He only wishes he were that lucky. And unfortunately, it seems to crop up at the worst possible times. Such as at the soda dispenser at lunch.

You see, there’s an excellent deli just around the corner from his office. It’s nothing really exceptional just to look at the building, but the food inside is something else altogether. The bread is homemade and the cookies are fresh and the meat is always stacked tight and high and it may just be a sandwich, but there’s just something about it. There’s no other place he’d rather go for lunch.

It’s busy, today; that’s a thing that can happen at noon on a sunny Wednesday. He and Robin and Will know well enough to come early so they can get a seat, but they also know to get out once the order lines start backing up. While his friends duck out, however, Killian detours to refill his soda cup; like any truly respectable lunch spot, the machine is self-serve and the refills are endless. 

And that’s where the real trouble starts. 

Getting a refill of Coke is fine; it’s hard to muck that really. But Killian makes the mistake of stepping to the side to put a lid back on his cup, and when he looks back up to head for the door, she’s there. A woman. In his immediate space, right next to him filling up her own cup at the dispenser. She’s gorgeous, too - a blonde haired, green-eyed dream with a trim athletic figure and legs for days.

Maybe that’s why he can’t fight it - the irrepressible urge to say something, anything. In another setting, he might have managed something charming and flirtatious. But they’re in a state of shared space, and unfortunately, the blabbermouth urges that this triggers override any other instinct or effort. 

He doesn’t even recognize his own voice when he finally speaks; it’s somehow pitched lower than normal into something almost cartoonish, or like a theatrical sotto voce gone horribly wrong. 

“They’re leaving without me!” he declares before fleeing for the door, unfortunately not fast enough to avoid the look of utter confusion on her lovely face as he goes. 

He regrets it as soon as he reaches the swinging door, an impressive four steps later. Unfortunately, it’s too late to take the words back at that point. 

(Worst of all, maybe - besides the fact that his friends are decidedly not leaving without him, instead waiting patiently just outside the door - is the fact that she hadn’t even looked his way before he’d made an utter fool of himself. It simultaneously hurts his ego and makes Killian want to kick himself for bringing this upon himself.) 

“Someone’s got a look,” Robin comments with a smirk. “What’d you do?”

Killian sighs heavily. “Do you ever do or say something that you just… immediately regret?”

“Nope!” Will chirps back cheerily. “Pillar of decorum, me.”

“More like utterly shameless,” Robin quips back. “What’d you do this time, Jones?”

Robin and Will wind up in stitches as the sorry story of the sorrier encounter unravels, not that Killian blames them (much). He can’t believe himself either, and if it was anyone else, he’d be laughing too. 

“It was one of those moments where I just wanted to ask myself, ‘what the hell is wrong with you’, you know?” Killian says to conclude his lament. “I don’t know if you saw, either, but she was stunning, too. Which just makes it worse, somehow - of course I’d make a fool of myself in front of a beautiful woman.”

“Ah, don’t take it too hard,” Robin tells him with a consolatory pat on the back. “What are the chances that you’ll see her again, anyways?”

———

The chances are higher than any of them thought, as it turns out. It seems she must have started a job in the same building that houses their publishing office. He’s not quite sure where; there’s too many options to narrow it down. All Killian knows is that he keeps seeing her in the lobby and the parking lot and outside the windows.

(Mostly, he just ducks out of sight or around corners so that she can’t see him. It’s becoming a problem.)

Killian can’t help but admire her from a distance, even if he intends to never let the blonde see his face again for fear that she’ll remember the very stupid thing he said at the deli. She wears a series of trim skirts and tailored pants that always mold perfectly to her slight frame, and her hair has this bounce to it that’s just mesmerizing. Even if the sunny color hadn’t caught his attention, the way those curls move certainly would have; it’s hair that makes a man dream of sinking his hands into those curls, though he knows those are inappropriate thoughts to entertain about a woman he doesn’t even know, and doesn’t ever intend to.

That doesn’t mean he’s not horribly, disgustingly fascinated and smitten. 

The thing about his particular office building is that it’s older - beautifully so, with ornate carvings at the corners and tall ceilings that keep him from feeling quite so trapped inside. Older buildings, however, tend to have quirks, no matter how charming and architecturally pleasing they are. One of the particular quirks of this building is a series of elevators that seem to alternate breaking down in no discernible pattern. The beautiful original elevators from the 1940s have been preserved, to gorgeous effect, but it seems like their parts need replacing more than newer models. Technically, he could take the stairs; however, he works on the 8th of 10 floors, and most days, it just doesn’t seem worth the effort (or the workout) to haul himself up and down all those flights when he could take the elevator in a fraction of the time. Theoretically. Killian has learned from his own experience and that of his coworkers that it depends on the day. 

And today is not his day. 

It starts out fine, as he gets in the elevator to make his way down to the street for lunch. It’s a beautiful day out, and though he’d planned to reheat some leftovers - and in fact, had left a tupperware full of last night’s pizza in the break room fridge - with this kind of weather, Killian can’t bear to stay indoors a moment longer. It couldn’t hurt to go get a sandwich from the deli, anyways. 

Things get a little more complicated when the elevator stops on the sixth floor and his mystery blonde steps into the car. She’s distracted by her phone when the doors open, and takes a moment before stepping in; in fact, the doors start closing as she steps through the opening, causing her to startle a bit. 

“Those things will nearly take your arm off!” Killian blurts out in a mixture of nerves and horrible impulse rooted in space constraints.

(Elevators: once again, his nemesis.)

The blonde looks at him strangely at that, only to double take when she apparently recognizes him from before. “Hey, weren’t you the guy from —” she starts as the elevator begins its descent. 

“I don’t think so,” Killian quickly interrupts.

“No, no, at the deli, weren’t you the guy —”

For better or worse, the elevator chooses that particular moment to stop. Not a regular stop either, where someone might step on from another floor on the way down - the elevator breaks down between floors with a horrible, grinding halt that Killian knows means they’ll be stuck until the repairmen or fire department can pry them out. 

“Fuck,” he mutters, not quite under his breath - though then again, nothing is really out of earshot in the tight confines of an elevator. Of course he gets trapped with the one person he’s been avoiding for weeks. 

At least it causes her to drop that particular line of questioning for the moment. Her gaze has turned fearful, somewhere between concerned and panicked, as she looks across the little box at him. “Has this happened before?”

“More than anyone likes to admit,” Killian tells her. “Welcome to the Misthaven Building. It’s practically a rite of passage.”

“That’s reassuring.”

“Eh, don’t think about it too long,” Killian advises. “They’re good about getting us out quickly anyways. Just got to give the building manager a call.”

This is his third time trapped in the five years he’s worked in the building; he’s well used to the ritual of reporting the situation and being told to sit tight. Like he has any other option. Still, his companion’s face relaxes when he tells her that people are on their way and they should hopefully be out within the hour.

“I suppose I should introduce myself, if we’re going to be stuck together.” It feels like more of a concession that he’d like, but truthfully, there’s nothing about this situation that he’s a particular fan of. Except, of course, the woman herself, but there’s no changing the multitude of mortifying circumstances under which they’ve met. “I’m Killian Jones. I’m with the publishing company up on 8.”

“Emma Swan,” she smiles in return. “Just started with the law firm on six.”

“A pleasure, Swan. Or, at least, as much of one as it can be under these circumstances.”

She laughs. “Same, I guess.” He should have figured, though, that she wouldn’t just let their previous encounter go - especially after finding out that she’s a lawyer. “Are you sure that we didn’t meet before at the deli?”

Killian sighs heavily. “Meet would be a strong word, but aye, we did. A little passing encounter at the soda machine.”

“I thought so!” she grins. “No offense, but it was an… interesting encounter.”

“Oh, none taken. That’s the polite way to put it.” That doesn’t stop him from blushing at the memory. That ridiculous voice, seriously. He still can’t believe it. 

“Yeah, it was… not what I expected,” Emma admits.

“I’m sure it’s not, since it’s not what I expected to say either. I’ve been kind of kicking myself ever since.”

“Why did you say it, then?” Emma asks with an amused smile.

Killian scrubs his hands over his face with a sigh. “I wish I had a better answer, but… do you ever just feel the urge to just say something, anything when you’re forced into close proximity with someone? Just to feel the air?” Emma nods tentatively. “I’ve got a particularly bad case of it.”

“Ohhhhh,” she exhales, as if in realization. “That would explain the arm thing when I got on the elevator too, then.”

“Precisely. There is no limit to the amount of stupid and ridiculous things I will say in elevators.”

“It was kind of what made me remember you,” Emma admits. 

“Of course,” Killian groans. “I swear I’m not usually so awkward, around lovely young women or otherwise.”

“Now that I know the story, it’s kind of charming,” Emma assures him. “At least I think so.”

“You’d be the first.”

Conversation gets easier now that they’ve talked about the elephant in the room. Emma proves to be just as charming as she is beautiful - funny and smart, with a great sense of sarcasm that weaves through their conversation. He learns that she’s just moved to town to be closer to her family - her brother is a county sheriff’s deputy in the area, and her sister-in-law a teacher - and she’s got a five year old son at home that she loves more than anything. Killian is even more impressed as he realizes she must have finished law school with an infant and as a single parent. Somehow, he gets the feeling that there’s nothing she can’t or won’t do if she sets her mind to it. In turn, he tells her about himself - the shenanigans he gets up to with Robin and Will, his brother states away, all the little coffee shops and quiet nooks he’s found since moving here himself. It’s easy to forget that they’re trapped when he’s enjoying their conversation so much, even if they are sitting on the floor of the elevator. 

All too soon, however, the car jolts back to life, making its way down to the lobby at last. Killian struggles to his feet as the car moves, before reaching down to pull Emma back to her feet as well. Even if she wasn’t wearing some very impressive and spindly heels that undoubtedly affect her balance, it’s the chivalrous thing to do. 

“Thanks for this,” Emma tells him once they’re finally back on the solid marble floors of the lobby. “I definitely would have been freaking out if you hadn’t been there.”

“It was my pleasure, Swan.” And it truly was; the circumstances may not have been ideal on the surface, but he can’t bring himself to regret it, as they’ve brought him into the company of an enchanting woman. It’s easy to realize that he wants more than just today; knowing that, Killian quickly screws up his courage. “I don’t suppose you’d want to get coffee sometime? Or dinner? I promise I make a much better date outside of elevators.”

“I’d love to,” Emma smiles, setting Killian’s heart soaring in joyous flight. “I’ve got to find out what you’re like in more normal settings and situations, after all.”

(He’s happy to prove he’s much better - and less vocal - at sharing space for more pleasurable reasons.)

[cowboahhoe]

The Viper - Arthur Morgan x Reader

A quick imagine, could do more parts if you want?

Warnings: mention of abuse

Summary: upon fleeing an abusive relationship, the reader finds themselves being chased by lawmen, bounty hunters and a few members of the Van Der Linde Gang after a night in Valentine.

(gif credits to whoever owns it)

———————————————————

The last few months had been far less than ideal for you. You were on the run from the law, just you and your horse Nellie. You hadn't ever foreseen your life going this way - you had always been for all intents and purposes a good girl. That was until you had met your first husband, Blake. Your birth father had decided that money meant a lot more to him than his only daughters life, so he had sold you to the highest bidder which seemed like an outdated and abusive practice; even in 1899. Blake had money in oil, and used you as arm candy but had no real love or respect for you. You were nothing more than a maid, house wife, punching bag and toy for his sexual pleasures for far too long. One fateful night your fuse had been lit, and you fought back. A shroud of red flooded your body as you pointed his own pistol between his eyes - finally feeling power against the vile man who had held you captive for a year, and you felt no remorse in applying pressure to the trigger.

The next few moments went by in a blur, you had packed a bag with all the money yourself and Blake had around - alongside necessities such as food, and weapons. After packing your loyal horse, you had faded into the night. Leaving Saint Denis, heading west. You knew there would be repercussions for your actions but there was no way to tell just how intense the manhunt would be for you, nor how large the price on your head would be for one small murder. $500 for your return to Saint Denis alive meant that you'd come across your fair share of bounty hunters in your time living off the land; you quickly realised you could only trust yourself, and your horse. This brings us to your lonely (but free) present day.

You sit in the saloon in Valentine nursing a whisky, your third of the evening. You'd been in an around the Valentine area for a few days and knew it was only a matter of time before you had to move along and set up somewhere else. Perhaps Rhodes? Although you quickly shake the thought from your mind - that may just be too close to the scene of the crime. Just as you suckle the final dregs from your glass, you spot a curious group of men walking into the saloon. You daren't take your eyes off of them, memorising every feature behind every person in the group, you want to be able to recall their identities should you need to 'silence' them. One man wore a black hat, black hair slicked with pomade and nearly down to his shoulders. He wore a black coat, and a black vest with a red breast pocket. This man seemed to have an unmatched charisma; this much you could tell simply from the way he stood. This wasn't an innocent man. Then again, who is? Next to him, a slightly smaller, scrawnier gent. With grey hair, and wearing a blue vest this man seemed to have kinder eyes, which may just be part of his play. Finally, a rugged man wearing a black hat, detailed with brown rope - you noted the bullet hole in the rim of the hat. He wore a tattered, dirty blue working shirt, and wore worn black trousers with cotton suspenders tying it all together. Although, with this man you struggle to focus so much on the clothes that cover his broad frame and pay particular attention to his features. Sandy brown hair, a messy - somewhat scratchy looking beard. The beard had a few holes in, which seemed to be due to the placement of some scars; the most prominent of which was on his chin. Then there came those eyes. Even from across the saloon you could tell they were bright blue with a twinge of green. The handsome man simply dipped on his beard whilst the other two men spoke quietly to the group, he didn't seem like the leader of the trio by any means, but it didn't seem that was important.

Just then, blue eyes looks at you and makes eye contact while taking another swig from his beer. For a moment, you're worried he may have recognised you but that fear quickly diminishes when he simply nods his head your way and turns his attention back to his friends. With new found courage, you move toward the bar. Intent on ordering a new beverage when you hear the black haired man pull something from his satchel, and start speaking to the man with grey hair in a hushed tone.

"Hosea, I told you. She's the viper, the one they want in Saint Denis... our boy John was right. We hand her in, it's a good honest days work" the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, as you realise your time in Valentine is over - that and you need to play the next few minutes very wisely.

"I don't know Dutch, doesn't it seem unfair we're using a woman's bounty to help us flee our own misfortunes with the law?" Scrawny replies, suddenly he has become your favourite of the bunch. Blue eyes doesn't chime in at all, but you can feel his eyes on you as you stand at the bar, awaiting a cue to either whip out your pistol or flee the scene.

Adrenaline pumping through your veins, you decide the best solution is to try and slip away whilst the group argue about your fate. You know that they're outlaws, and if there are three outlaws coming after you... then you probably don't stand much of a chance. You make a beeline for the entrance, and whistle for your horse as soon as you reach the open air feeling the eyes of Dutch, Hosea and blue eyes on you as you make your exit. The unmistakable shuffle of boots accompany your exit, and you know that the men are right on your tail - the discussion of your fate seemed to be silence by your exit and only one objective remained. Get her.

You hop on the back of your horse, Nellie. She's an Arabian White and so you prayed that whatever horses this band of thieves had were slower than your girl. In seconds, you were off. You had made a instant decision to head in the direction of Emerald Ranch, hoping to lose them on the way then loop back round and head west toward Strawberry - although admittedly tactic wasn't at the forefront of your mind. Fight or flight had well and truly kicked in and you knew you needed to get away, far away. The thunderous chorus of hooves colliding with the hard ground rung through the night as the three horses chased your dear girl a cross the plains of the heartlands. Admittedly, you should have gone up through Cumberland forest as there was more cover to hide and slip away undetected. Though you had come across bounty hunters, and lawmen you had never come across a group of outlaws intent on handing you in and so the city girl who lived within you shook in her boots, and used instinct and not her brain when plotting which escape route to take.

"We just wanna talk miss" Dutch called in the dark.

"Like fuck you do Mister, I heard y'all talking about taking ma bounty" you curse back; relying a lot on your horses innate sense of direction to guide you through the hills and trying to guide her to help you both disappear. One of the men take a shot at the floor near your horse, probably trying to spook her but being that your horse is tough as nails she barely bats an eyelid.

"C'mon miss we really don't wanna hurt ya" an unfamiliar voice shouts. You realise this must be the man with blue eyes, his rough voice matches his rugged appearance well - although you don't have much time to think about the dreamy mans voice as you hear the whirl of a lasso from behind you.

You duck, and make unpredictable movements on Nellie in order to avoid the grip of the rope around your body. You feel silent panicked tears roll down your cheeks as you realise your luck had run out; not knowing your fate with these three outlaws. Just then, the rope whips itself around you and you're pulled from your seat and thrown against the floor. Your head collided with a rock, making you see stars as your horse comes to a stop and stands beside you as if waiting for you to get back up. She doesn't realise this is likely your final ride. The three men come to a stop, and blue eyes hog ties you with the lasso before turning you onto your back.

All three men stood over you, as you shook and tears leaked from your eyes.

"take me then, I don't regret what I did to him. He deserved it more than anyone I have ever known" I spit with venom.

"My dear, did the countless bounty hunters, lawmen and innocent folk who got in your way deserve the same end?" Dutch replies. Bending his knees to move closer to your face so he is crouched over you as you lay on the dirt staring up at the night sky.

"If someone tried to have you swing for self defence and would you roll over and let them take you? Or would you fight?" You respond. Looking the man right in the eyes. Giving him the coldest look you can muster up while your cheeks are stained with tears. Dutch chuckles, looking up at Hosea and Blue eyes with a jovial expression.

"Darlin' im gonna give you a choice. You can go to Saint Denis and swing, or... you can come join us. We're a group of misfits and outcasts and we're always in need of more guns. You'd have to earn your keep, of course but from what I've heard you've had no issue wrangling an income for yourself."

"Dutch is that really wise? We have plenty of people to feed we could just let the poor lady go?" Blue eyes replies to Dutch. Causing him to whip his head up.

"Enough, Arthur! She can help in ways most of those women back at camp won't, besides - If she outstays her welcome we could always take her on a trip to Saint Denis." He smiles down at you while making his threat.

"I'll go with you." You reply begrudgingly. Whenever you can make it happen, you'll escape their camp. But for now this beats swinging.

"Well then, Arthur would you be so kind as to place this fine lady on the back of your horse?" Dutch says, walking over to his own beautiful steed.

"I have a horse of my own I can ride!" You shout back to him as Arthur removes me from the floor and places you face down on his horse.

"I know, but I don't want to risk you cutting off before meeting everyone and seeing how we do things. I happen to think you'll like it once you're not all tied up" he laughs. Arthur makes sure you're well seated before getting on his horse and coaxing it into moving to follow Dutch and Hosea. You whistle for your own horse who follows behind, with all your belongings.

"I'm sorry about this miss, uh, miss..." Arthur begins. Making it clear he knows you as only your pseudonym of 'the viper'.

"Y/N, just call me Y/N Viper" you respond, already out of breath from the movement of the horse pressing up against your chest and stomach. Compressing you're ability to breathe.

"well miss Viper, we have quite a ride ahead" Arthur replies, you huff in response and Arthur chuckles. Kicking the horse into moving a bit faster so as to catch up with Dutch and Hosea. You glance back at your beautiful horse and watch as loyally follows behind you.

Rolling your eyes, you exhale again.

This is going to be a long night.

________________________

Needless to say I hope you liked this? Can do additional parts if you want, or I mean if you have any ideas please feel free to let me know. I'm not sure how tumblr works so idk comment or message any ideas or recommendations or anything if you feel like it.

ALSO do let me know if you think this is trash because I’d rather know I just was having a touch of fun writing a little bit this evening. I’m also pregnant and my brain is completely useless so I really appreciate feedback 💖

Thanks so much 💖

[hiddendreamer67]

Tiny Mer!Sanders Angst Pt. 12

Part 12 to a story based on @secretglittersauce‘s tiny mer!sides angst prompt. Infinitesimal Fins is BACK, baby!!! And Virgil’s depressed, but what else is new? :D

October prompt #13: Shake

Potentially triggering content: depressive/suicidal thoughts

Check my reblog for links to the previous parts. I also have a writing blog now! @hiddendreamerwriting

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Virgil’s gaze snapped up, hearing the sound of the front door opening. Remy was back.

No, the human was back. The one keeping him captive and separated from his brothers. However, despite this, Virgil didn’t have the energy to even continue actively hating on the human. 

Who cared if he was judged for it? It didn’t matter. None of this mattered. Virgil was just going to die one day trapped away in this cage like some sort of defenseless animal- possibly one day soon, based on how his stomach kept growling at him. 

Every few days his primal instincts caved, eating a piece or two of the floating tidbits that could hardly be considered ‘food’. They were vile, but nutritious. Virgil was forced to live another day. Today was just another one of those days.

Remy set his bag down, and Virgil watched the way his eyes scanned over Virgil’s enclosure. Inspecting the way Virgil sat in the same position as always, dejectedly slumped against the back glass wall in the east right corner. Sulking. Brooding. His tail twitching restlessly every so often, but Virgil had grown accustomed to ignoring his fight or flight reflexes. There was nowhere to run and nobody to fight. Instead Virgil forced himself to grow idle, accustomed to his new life of loneliness that was all his fault.

Sometimes Virgil wondered if he was the last one left. He had never heard word of any of his brothers when they left the pet shop for good- perhaps they hadn’t ended up with such fortunate owners. The idea of Virgil being the one to get lucky would be a sick twist of fate, wouldn’t it? Virgil got them into this mess, and now Virgil would be the only one to survive it. 

Virgil huffed, pointedly avoiding Remy’s gaze as the scrapping of the desk chair echoed in his ears. He was meant to be grateful, he supposed. If not for this human, Virgil would have been sold off as baracuda chow. And yet Virgil kept wondering if perhaps that would’ve been a better fate for him- he was of no use to anyone. Virgil had only ever been a screw up his whole life, so why not just be done with him? It was the circle of life. Being eaten by a bigger fish would at least have given Virgil a purpose that wasn’t merely being a pathetic anchor holding his brothers back.

And yet….. And yet. Virgil glanced up at the few remaining pellets of flaky fish food floating idly at the top of the water. Only three pieces, when earlier in the day there had been seven. It seemed that despite himself, Virgil couldn’t seem to let go. 

He wanted to live, to swim with his brothers through the reefs and have Patton hold him close and exchange quips with Roman and for Logan to teach him all the best ways to defend each other. Virgil missed ducking through the seaweed forests and tending the algae even if it had a habit of obnoxiously growing all over the cave. Indeed, the young mer was so selfishly invested in the idea of normalcy that he was still terrified of leaving this life behind, even when Virgil knew he’d never have any sort of happiness like that again.

“Glad you’re eating again, gurl.” Remy commented, and Virgil felt the currents shift around him as that plastic net came and went, scooping out the soggy flakes to be replaced in the morning. Perhaps sooner, if Remy was going to try to make him eat twice in one day. Virgil doubted he’d give the human the satisfaction. 

Usually, this would be when Remy took his leave. He’d make some sort of snarky comment to tease Virgil, maybe tap on the glass a bit to get a reaction and ensure Virgil wasn’t truly a living corpse, and then go do whatever the hell it was he did when the loud music blasted through the walls and made Virgil’s head spin.

It seemed today was not set out to be a usual day.

“I talked about you at work today.” Remy said casually, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. It was impossible to see the human’s eyes with the black sunglasses he always wore, but Virgil could tell Remy was staring him down. “Thomas came in.”

Thomas? Virgil didn’t know who that was, or why he would care. One human was already far too many in his opinion. 

“Turns out he and his little fish bud have been getting along swimmingly.” Remy paused, lowering his shades. “Pun intended.”

Little fish bud? Wait… did that mean… was Thomas one of the humans who took his brothers away? Virgil was suddenly much more enraptured in this conversation, and he cursed his poor memory for not knowing which brother this might be. Patton? Logan? Roman?

“I hear you’ve been holding out on me.” Remy tsked. “Tommy’s mer talks.”

What? Virgil frowned, his eyebrows furrowing. How was that possible? And why would they do that? Humans couldn’t be trusted. But then again… wouldn’t his brothers know better than he? But what if Remy was just lying? 

Remy leaned closer, removing his glasses entirely to inspect Virgil in a way that made the mer truly feel like he was back on display at the pet shop.

“You can understand me, can’t you?” Remy murmured. “Boi I might be trippin’ but if you can talk, you better start speaking up about why you’re so cranky all the time.”

Virgil froze, trying to make no indication either way, not wanting to do the wrong thing and screw up everything somehow. Should he speak? But Virgil didn’t even know how, the human’s words were so sharp and light whilst Virgil was used to the deeper rumblings of the sea.

Virgil watched warily as Remy’s hands came up on either side of the tank. He yelped, thrown into motion as Remy shook the container. Not enough to hurt, but enough to be a nuisance, throwing Virgil out of his familiar corner.

“Well?” Remy pressed, pausing his movements and letting the whirlpool still, swirling Virgil around in a circle. “Go on then, say something.” 

Virgil grimaced, glaring down his annoying human who couldn’t seem to understand that the mer just wanted to be left alone. He certainly wasn’t going to try to appease Remy now. 

“I’m not going to give you the satisfaction.” Virgil spat in his native mer tongue. He couldn’t, even if he wanted to; Virgil wouldn’t even know where to start. Remy quirked an eyebrow, watching Virgil’s lips move. 

“Gotta speak up if you want me to hear you.” Remy commented. “Can’t hear you underwater, lil’ beta.”

Virgil’s nose twitched irritably at the nickname, but he didn’t bother replying this time. Instead he stuck out his tongue, shaming Remy in true juvenile fashion. For a moment Virgil felt a familiar pang of nostalgia, remembering the way Roman would let out that silly noise of offense whenever Virgil did the same to him. 

But Roman wasn’t here.

“...fine then.” Remy sighed dramatically, releasing his hold on the tank. “Guess you don’t have anything important to say, anyway.”

Oh, Virgil had plenty of important things to say. He wanted to screech at Remy for hours, scolding him for never saving his brothers when they couldn’t save themselves. Virgil wanted to yell at all of humanity, shaming them for exploiting Virgil’s weakness to get their grimy paws on everyone else. 

But most of all, Virgil wanted to shake his fist at the world, cursing life for its cruelty and assuring the universe that Virgil wasn’t going to submit so easily.

And maybe… Virgil moved his lips again, attempting to replicate the way Remy so easily pushed air from his lungs. He glanced up at the surface of the water, the light shining down for once not feeling so oppressing. Was this his chance? Some sort of sign from above, showing Virgil the way out of this mess?

There was no guarantee that Remy would listen. Virgil would probably swim out of this feeling crushed and alone, Remy forcing him to talk and taunting him once he knew why Virgil hated this place. But at this point, Virgil was running low on options.

Virgil would practice. If he couldn’t do it, then fine. But he was tired of not having a say in his own fate.

[illogicalhusbands]

Off we go - IllogicalWeek2019 day 1 (Enemies to Lovers)

Warning: nsfw-themed scenes; nothing explicit

Idk why I’m not following my own rules but why have these two turn enemies to lovers when they can be both at the same time?

-

“Sir,” Ellie said, clearing her throat. “I don’t mean to alarm you, but Dr. Masters is here.”

Alec Hardy let out a frustrated groan. “No,” he snapped. “We are not going to talk to him. Don’t even think about coming near him.”

They were sitting at the hospital lobby, surrounded by pristine white walls, the stench of alcohol stinging the air. Alec scrunched his nose in disgust at the sight of Bill Masters off at the side near the entryway leading to one of the ORs. The man had on a lab coat and was exchanging curt words with a colleague. Alec felt his blood pressure spike up at the sight of him.

Ellie rolled her eyes. “Look, sir, it’s been months since the incident and frankly, this is getting ridiculous. He’s already apologized--”

“He said he wished he hadn’t done it, not the same as apologizing. ‘It’ could’ve meant more things. Worse things that would’ve cost me my job.” Alec snarled.

“Here we go again. Why can’t you just let it go? This feud has done nothing but put you in a strop every time anyone so much as mentions his name!”

“Miller, need I remind you that his inane arrogance nearly cost us our entire case? Hm? How he intentionally made us believe that he had more to do with the murder of Walsh than he actually did?” Alec raised his brows, his lips pressed into a tight line. “And let’s not forget how he did all that simply because he hates my guts. Do you really think I could just set all that aside?”

“Well, I admit that accusing him of murder might not have gotten you off on the best foot...” Alec glared at her in response. “But it was all just a big misunderstanding! He was just the doctor on-call at the hotel. The real suspect is locked up and awaiting trial! Sir, I really think that if you set aside this childish rivalry you two have you could actually become good friends.”

“Friends?” Alec scoffed. “I would sooner be mauled by a bear.”

He eyed Masters out of his peripheral vision. Bill appeared to have just ended a shift and was pulling off his coat, revealing the short-sleeved dress shirt he wore underneath in a cream color that contrasted with his dark hair. Alec was struck by the sight of the muscles on his arms, shifting as Masters folded his coat absentmindedly.

“Still you have to admit,” Ellie’s voice broke him out of his reverie, her voice catching on a dreamy tone. “He’s quite the looker.”

“He’s... not unattractive.”

“Right,” Ellie said, already turning around. “Kath told me I could pick up the lab results from the swabs over at the north wing. You coming?”

Once again, Alec’s glare was all the answer she needed.

“Of course, your baseless disgust over hospitals makes you physically incapable,” she said in her best impression of his voice. Alec was not impressed. Ellie retracted, schooling the amused expression fighting to make its way on her face. “Be back in 20 minutes!” She set off in the direction of the labs.

Alec took a look around. Bill had disappeared from view, probably gone back home already.

He took a few steps towards one of the halls, aiming to stretch his legs when a hand shot out to grab his arm. He barely had time to react to the threat before he was being manhandled into a dimly lit supply closet.

The door slammed shut behind him. He figured his fight-or-flight response should’ve been triggered more considering that his profession made him more attuned to danger already but there was also a deeper, more concrete instinct in his mind that already knew what to expect.

There were lips ghosting near his ear.

“Didn’t expect to see you today,” Bill said gruffly, his hand coming to rest on Alec’s back, traveling up his spine and eliciting a shiver. “What a lovely surprise.”

“I was hoping I wouldn’t run into you. Praying, more like,” Alec replied coldly.

Bill chuckled, his nose skimming the line on the side of his neck. “Now, I have a hard time believing that. See, I’ve already heard you calling out to God and it did not sound anything like that.” His lips pressed on Alec’s neck, nipping at the skin. Alec tilted up his head to give him more access.

Bill’s scent engulfed him. He leaned back on the door for support as his knees threatened to give way. Bill’s hand was firm on his back, grounding him.

“We’re in a closet.” He said as if he needed to point out the obvious. “Someone could’ve seen us, you insufferable git!”

Bill captured his lips in a wild, searing kiss. Alec melted against him, his own mouth pliant, satisfied with being molded by Bill’s more capable lips. His mind went blissfully blank, as it always did whenever Bill kissed him. It was equally gratifying and dangerous--the latter somehow an ever-present consequence whenever Bill was around. His hand went up to grasp the back of Bill’s head, deepening the kiss.

Bill smiled, playfully nipping at his bottom lip before pulling away just a bit. “You sure are needy today.”

Alec’s glare would’ve sent an ordinary person running for the hills. Bill was no ordinary person, instead he tugged on Alec’s waist, grinding their cocks and eliciting a gasp from the detective.

“Shut up!” Alec managed to say in between Bill’s thrusts. His hands scrambled to grip Bill’s shoulders. “Arrogant git.”

Bill’s answering smile was positively devious. In that moment, Alec knew he was putty in the doctor’s hands.

And then Bill pulled away, his hands returning to his sides, leaving Alec in complete confusion over what had just taken place.

Of course, he thought. That’s all this was to Bill. A game to see how bothered he could get Alec within the span of a few minutes. He’d been manipulating Alec once again and, just like the first time, Alec had walked straight into his trap.

He cursed himself for being played a fool.

Alec cleared his throat, mustering up what little dignity was left from him. “Well I hope you were entertained,” he said dryly. If he sounded somewhat sad he hoped that Bill didn’t notice. He turned around, hand resting on the doorknob.

“Idiot,” said Bill, arms snaking around Alec’s torso. Alec was frozen as Bill tucked his chin on the crook of Alec’s shoulder, placing light kisses on the fabric of his shirt. “I believe Miller will be back shortly. Wouldn’t want her to wonder. But I’ve a special evening planned out for you tonight.” Bill trailed kisses up his neck and behind his ear, making him shiver.

This was all a game. Another plot of the cunning Dr. Bill Masters to have him running in circles once again over a lead that will inevitably turn out to be nothing. He’d seen the danger firsthand, already knew the consequences of choosing to continue down this road. Devastation. Disappointment.

Despite this, Alec steeled himself and gripped Bill’s hand where it rested over his stomach and lifted it up to his face. He pressed a soft, lingering kiss over Bill’s knuckles. For once, it seemed that Bill was rendered wordless.

Alec sighed in resignation. Off we go. “I’ll see you tonight, then.” fin

[boww-tiez]

Safety

PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS! Content may be triggering to some readers!

I’m sad, so I wrote sad. Fluffy ending because I wanted to cheer myself up. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy. My asks and stuff are all open (I think? Still figuring Tumblr out) and I’m always looking for new things to write. Colby’s a cute little bean in this- all the warnings are for the boyfriend at the beginning of the story.

Also, I wrote this one gender neutral- or, well I tried. Please don’t hesitate to tell me if there are pronouns anywhere I missed when I scanned over the final product. I’m new to this topic, since we just went over unhealthy relationships in one of my classes.

Warnings: abuse, emotional abuse, unhealthy relationships, inner turmoil, swearing, controlling partner

Rating: Mature?

Word Count: 4,262

Colby is NOT the boyfriend in the beginning of the story.

“You belong to me.” his voice growled. It wasn’t loud; no, that would raise suspicion among the group of his friends. His words just loud enough for the words to travel to your ears, making his message loud and clear.  

You hadn’t done much to warrant such a tone; merely running to the bar to get a couple drinks for him and his friends. It wasn’t your fault the bartender starting hitting on you. You’d been uncomfortable with it- certainly not interested in his attempts.  

After all, he had been the one to send you to collect shots for the table. You had been hesitant. You were not twenty-one, and it was illegal to be in the club. But the stern look on his face had you standing and excusing yourself, smiling easily at everyone.

It didn’t matter to your boyfriend though. It never did.

The bartender thankfully had been more interested in you then the age on your driver’s license. But he was still making passes at you. It was out of your control. He had what you needed.  

You couldn’t help but tap your fingers on the glossy bar counter, anxiously chancing quick looks over your shoulder at the cheerful table your peers- all excited and a little too drunk to remember anything the next morning. You had seen your boyfriend’s eyes on you from the table, the subtle glint of anger dilating his eyes that you knew so well.  

Nothing good could come from this. You’d taken too long. His intentions were clear, and you cowered slightly into the corner of the bar as he strided towards you, eyes dancing from you to the bartender who grinned at him.  

“I think they’ve had enough,” he played off, smile bright- making it out to seem you’d been ordering all six shots for yourself. You hadn’t even intended to have one. You’d had a frilly girly drink he’d made fun of you for, but you weren’t one for alcohol, not to mention the fact that he’d already practically force fed you a shot of tequila.  

“Oh, man, I’m sorry. I didn’t know they were taken. Sorry, bro.” The bartender apologized as your boyfriend wrapped his arm around your shoulder, a little too tight to be considered a romantic gesture. He was angry.  

You pleaded silently to the bartender, praying he’d see your face- know you were in danger- but the idiot simply nodded his head towards your boyfriend and turned to assist someone else at the bar.  

“How’s about you and I go have a little talk in the bathroom?” He gritted through his teeth, voice dangerously low as he forced you towards the restrooms by a strong grip around you.  

He was a regular at this specific bar, and by default- you were now as well. The hallway was small, and dark. The lightbulb in the small corridor was burnt out, and for as long as you’d been coming- there hadn’t been any light. The men’s and women’s rooms were side by side, each smelling rancid and looking grimy and worn.  

When the both of you were enveloped in the daunting darkness, he spun you around, pinning you against the wall. You knew better then you scream, yell or protest. A subtle pain ignited in your spine as bone crashed against wooden beams in the drywall.  

You remained neutral, as anything else would’ve made things worse for you.  

“What the fuck were you doing flirting with that asshole?” He growled in your face, practically nose to nose with you.

“I w-wasn’t,” you tried, only to be pushed further up the wall, feet inches off the floor, being supported by nothing but his grip around your neck. Your lungs constricted at the lack of air, legs kicking slightly to try and ground yourself.

“Don’t fucking lie to me, I watched you flirt with him with my own two eyes, Slut,” said eyes were now red with anger. He definitely had had a little too much to drink- just like his whole party of friends sitting just a couple feet away, completely oblivious. He was being more violent than usual, more handsy and aggressive. He’d never been this forceful.  

Your feet hit the ground as his hands left your throat, and your body threatened to slide down the wall to the floor, but his grip was soon replaced, gripping your arm with bruising strength. His movements were quick, and then you felt pain blossom in your face. He’d slapped you, or maybe punched? It all felt the same at this point.  

The sting was intense, blurring your vision momentarily.  

He spouted slurs and threats at you, but the only thing you could hear was the sound of your own sped up heartbeat. Your fight-or-flight instincts kicking in. You involuntarily pushed him away; conscious mind struggling to keep up.  

He wasn’t expecting it, clearly, so he stumbled back, taking a second to regain his balance in his drunken state. You’d taken that as your chance. The chance to get away. The chance of freedom.  

You moved quickly, feet working faster than your brain could comprehend.  

He was following you; you knew it. His feet slapping loudly off the floors. He wasn’t shouting slurs, instead pleading, making it out that you were the bad guy. That you were leaving.

Outside the door, he finally spoke up. Voice venomous, as he growled. The streets were empty, and everyone inside remained inside, clearly not too interested in your fight. A streetlight flickered, and his face was stony with anger.  

“If you walk away now, we’re fucking over.” You paused your movements, not turning to face him, but showing you were listening, “I won’t care for your slutty ass anymore. And remember bitch, no one else will want you. I’m doing you a favor by staying with you- and you go and do this shit.”  

You were at a safe distance. He would have to sprint to make it too you, and both of you knew that he would fall flat on his face if he attempted. His words were sinking in. This was it. You’d finally escaped. He was giving you the final ultimatum. Stay and be with him- have everything return to normal, or leave, and forget it all- be safe, but alone.  

“Go to hell,” you uttered, turning swiftly and sprinting down the road. Tears sprung in your eyes as you jogged, listening to his raged shouts grow softer with the distance you were putting between the two of you.

When you finally felt that you were at a safe distance, you slid down the wall, drawing your knees to your chest. You had to reevaluate everything. The past year of your life with him. You thought he had loved you, but... this wasn’t love. He’d taken it too far. You let it go too far.

Everyone had warned you about him. About his aggressive will to protect you... protect you from your friends and family. They’d been right. All your girlfriends who told you to get out while you could, told you that their boyfriends never did anything like he did.

And Colby- Colby hadn’t liked him from the start. He didn’t like Colby either. Colby warned you. He frowned whenever you said his name, glared when you recalled anything your boyfriend did. He was trying to help. Telling you how it looked from the outsider’s point of view...  

Colby had been the first your boyfriend cut off. ‘I just don’t like the way he looks at you, you’re mine, babe’ he had said, eyes full of love and adoration. You’d stupidly let him win. You started cutting Colby out. He was your best friend, and you let this man- your boyfriend- just cut him out of your life.  

It had been weeks since you’d talked to Colby. It was your fault. He had tried, tried so hard to stay in contact. He sent texts, and called- sent you silly little snapchats and invited you out all the time... but you slowly stopped responding, or replying, or joining him when he wanted to hang out.  

You cut out the whole trap house- each of those boys had been so nice to you, and the girls too. They’d been like family, and you let your boyfriend- ex boyfriend, tear everything to pieces.  

You doubted he’d even be your friend anymore. You wouldn’t want to be your friend after what you’d done to him. Colby had been trying to help- but you just pushed him away. You, single handedly, cut all the ties you had with people- for the man who was abusing you.  

You let out a quiet sob-laugh, you weren’t sure which it was. It wasn’t funny- not in the slightest, but you were fed up with yourself. How could you let him isolate you from everyone? Even your parents you hadn’t spoken to in months.  

You patted your pockets, in search for your cell phone. There had to be someone in your phone you could call to come pick you up. They couldn’t all hate you, right?

You searched your pockets, patting down your legs before letting out a cry of frustration. It was gone. You must’ve dropped it somewhere in the rush of getting out.  

You were stranded. It was late, you had no lose change for the payphones, and you were not stupid enough to go back to the bar to call someone.  

With a heavy heart, you pulled yourself up and started in the direction of a certain mansion that was closest to you. You didn’t have very high hopes, maybe they’d let you borrow a phone to call your parents or something before kicking you off the property. After cutting them out, there weren’t many other scenarios that could happen.  

The walk was long. Your back still kind of hurt, but your face was mostly numb. It was very late when you finally arrived at the trap house. If you had to guess, about twelve or something. You'd left the bar around nine, and it felt like you’d been walking for years. It was dark, the streetlights not doing much to help anything.

The gate was shut, but not locked, so you pushed up the latch and slowly walked in, closing it behind yourself in the process.  

There was still lights on in mansion- which was a good thing. Someone had to be awake.  

You trailed slowly to the large double doors, taking note of whose cars were parked out front. Colby, Sam, and Corey.  

You lifted a hand to knock on the door. It was a quiet knock, since something in the back of your mind didn’t actually want anyone to answer- but seconds later the clicking of dog claws and loud protective barks echoed in the house.  

“Sh, Navi, Buddy,” a voice hushed. Then the door clicked open. Sam peeked through the small gap between the door and doorframe, clearly cautious since they weren’t actually expecting any guests, and it was pretty late.  

“Y/N?” He questioned in surprise, eyeing you up and down.

“Uh, yea...” you replied quietly, scuffing your foot against the concrete anxiously. “Can I, uh, use your phone?”  

Sam stared for a second, deeming you no threat before pushing the door open the rest of the way. The light from the hallway lit up the front yard. Sam gasped quietly, taking a step towards you slowly. You knew you probably didn’t look too great.  

“Y/N, what happened?” his voice was quiet- almost caring. You didn’t respond, just looked down in guilt. “Here,” Sam continued after a second, walking towards you and placing a gentle hand on your back, “come inside.”

You trusted Sam. You trusted everyone in the trap house. They’d never done you wrong.  

You let Sam lead you into the mansion, he being super gentle. He brought you into the living room, where Corey and Devyn were sitting curled up watching a movie on Netflix.

You sat down, lacking all emotion. Corey glanced towards you, stiffening when he eyed your appearance.  

“Y/N, are you alright?” his voice sounding appalled, and shocked. Devyn glanced up, gasping quietly when you caught her eye, pushing herself off of Corey to sit beside you.  

“Y/N... your neck...” she frowned, fingers hovering beside your neck. She didn’t touch, which you were grateful for. It was bound to be bruising by now. Flourishing into blacks, purples and ugly yellows.  

She pulled you into a hug- but you didn’t hug back. Not yet. It was still all sinking in. The hug was a nice touch, and you desperately needed one- but... you wanted comfort from someone else. Your mind was locked on Colby, despite the fact he probably hated you.  

You squeezed your eyes shut when thumps rumbled down the stairs- it was loud and scared you. You’d been in the silence of the night for so long, circling aimlessly in your own mind, and now suddenly there were people and noises coming at you left, right and center.  

Devyn pulled back, and you were wrapped in someone else’s arms just as fast as the first pair left. You instantly melted into the embrace, arms lifting to wrap around the person as you buried your nose in the soft fabric of his sweatshirt.  

Colby still smelt the same. An interesting mix of shampoo and deodorant. He had the most familiar scent too you. The smell of safety. Colby was safety.  

“Y/N... shh, what happened?” his voice was low, calm and collected- but you could tell he was scared. His body was shaking- almost as bad as yours, and his heart was faster than it usual was. You realized that you were crying, when you pulled back a little too look up- only to have a blurred vision of your best friend.  

His arms were tight around you- but you didn’t struggle. It wasn’t the same embrace as your boyfriend’s. Colby was radiating love and concern- he was radioactive with anger and control.

There were too many people around to talk about what had happened hours ago. You loved them all- but they weren’t Colby, and as of now, he was the only person you wanted to know what went down.  

You pulled away from him, arms wrapping around yourself in your best attempt to cover yourself from the harsh eyes of everyone. Sam was stood behind Colby, eyes sad. He must’ve gone upstairs to get Colby. You nodded his direction, smiling as best you could when he noticed you. He returned a sad smile; then, as if reading your mind, turned on his heels and left the room, muttering about editing a new video and facetiming Katrina before he went to bed.  

Devyn was next to pick up on the social ques. Yawning silently, and taking Corey’s hand. She mumbled about being tired, and wanting to finish the movie in their bed in case she fell asleep.  

Corey was hesitant, sending you concerned glances, before standing and following Devyn up the stairs.  

Then, it was just you and Colby. He looked shell-shocked; eyes focused on your neck. You watched his eyes trail you, scanning you for injuries.  

“Y/N, baby, what happened?” he questioned once more. You smiled lightly at the pet name; it was refreshing to hear it in such a sweet tone. He always called you cute names like that- only ever using your actual name when he was mad at you, or he was being serious about something.  

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you told him quickly. It was the first thing you spouted. And you were. You were so sorry. Sorry about how you treated him. How you just abandoned him. After all the years the two of you had been friends, you’d let that man get in between you and split you guys up. You were sorry for not listening to him, and basically the whole year since you met your ex. “I’m sorry...”

“No, no. Y/N, don’t be sorry... it’s okay. Everything is okay. You’re okay... Please, stop crying...” this only made you cry harder. He was being so nice to you. You abandoned him, and here he was comforting you.  

You lifted your hands up to cover your nose and mouth, shutting your eyes. Colby wrapped his arms around you once more, leading you back to the couch. He sat, pulling you down behind him.  

It was nice being in his lap. You’d always liked sitting in his lap. It’s just how your relationship worked. He had always been super good at calming you down, and this happened to be his number one tactic.  

“Y/N, I really need you to tell me what happened. You can’t just show up here after three weeks of no contact, completely banged up and scare the shit out of us all. What happened? Please, tell me...”

“I’m sorry for leaving you... Leaving you for him,” you gasped through the tears. You had to apologize.  

“It’s okay... I’m not mad. It’s fine. You’re here now. Please, what happened?”  

“We were at the bar,” you started, voice quiet as you played with a thread on your shirt. Colby’s hand was settled firmly on your back, slowly running the length of your spine. It was calming, and just sitting with Colby was soothing. “He, uh, he’s been more... aggressive lately...” You tried, trailing off. Colby was going to flip his shit.  

“He... Your boyfriend?” his voice turned stony, hand pausing on your back. His eyes were dark and his lip curling into a snarl, “that fucking asshole did this to you?”

You knew his anger wasn’t directed at you. You knew for certain; Colby had never done anything towards you in anger. But you couldn’t help but flinch away. It was too soon. Hours earlier this very situation had led to being strangled in the restroom hallway of a bar.  

“I’m sorry,” Colby whispered, anger wiping away, guilt quickly replacing it. “Sorry, babe, I know. Not the time to get mad. We need to worry about you, not that asshole.”

You didn’t reply, just curled closer into his sweater. He pulled you against him, and the two of you settled into silence. It was calming. You felt safe in the trap house. You knew all the guys would protect you in a heartbeat. And Colby would gladly get himself arrested defending you (as it had almost happened before).

Colby’s fingers ran through your hair, trailing his fingertips along your skull in a soothing motion. You closed your eyes, relaxing into him. You’d been so high strung for so long, and it was nice to just relax- and be in the arms of someone who you trusted wholeheartedly. You ducked your head under his chin, curling so your ear was pressed against his chest and your chin hidden in his sweater. He took the hint, resting his chin on top of your head.  

His hand fell from your hair to resume running lines up and down your back. He hit a particularly tender spot and you winced before you could think about what you were doing. His hand lifted instantly, and he pushed you away slightly to look at your face.

“I’m going to need you to be completely honest with me right now,” he started, voice quiet but serious. “Where did he hurt you? I need to know. I have to see if I should be taking you to the hospital.”

“He pushed me against the wall... and um, he lifted be by my neck... I- he, uh he also slapped me, or, uh or maybe he punched me? I’m not sure. It all happened so fast.”

Colby was silent for a long minute. His hand was settled on your waist, and his thumb was trailing up and down slowly. He was deep in thought, you could tell.  

“I want to look at everything, everything he did to you.” Colby told you, “somewhere where the light is good... Come, let’s go to the bathroom down here. The lighting is the best.”  

Together you and Colby stood up. His hand planted on your back, leading you slowly- just as Sam had done when you’d first arrived.  

The bathroom was super bright. You were momentarily blinded as Colby flicked the light on. You looked in the mirror. You couldn’t help but gape at yourself. You looked so broken. A bruise was forming on your cheek, and somehow your lip had been split. There was a trail of blood, and a smear on your chin. You glanced at you hand to see another smear, meaning at some point you must’ve wiped it away.  

Your neck was still fairly numb, but it was starting to hurt. There were dark oval shapes lining your neck- easily identified at finger marks from your ex’s strong grip. You hesitantly brought your hands to run along the shapes, wincing lightly.  

You stripped off your shirt, not caring that Colby was in the room. He’d seen it before- you guys were best friends after all. You turned, exposing your back to the mirror, then looking over your shoulder to see bruises on the parts you’d hit the hardest.  

“Babe, those look painful,” Colby frowned, rifling through a drawer and pulling out a bottle of ibuprofen. You downed the pills he offered dry, blinking as they passed down your throat.  

“It’s not as bad as I thought,” you told you best friend truthfully. And it wasn’t. It felt worse than it looked. You’d known you’d be bruised pretty heavily, but it was less then you assumed. Your back felt like is should be a solid strip of black and blue, but it was only in the most tender spots, which was a plus in your books.  

Colby looked like you’d just shot him or something, eyes wide and mouth gaping open.  

“Y/N, seriously? I’m sorry, but you look like you got hit by a bus. He did this to you. He fucked with the wrong person, let me tell you. I mean,” Colby paused, busying himself at the sink, “you’re bleeding still. You've got blood smears, and the bruising- oh god, the bruising- babe... please, tell me this isn’t actually happening.”

Colby turned to you, a wash cloth in his hand. He reached to wipe away the blood, his movements gentle. The cloth was warm, and felt heavenly on your skin. He dabbed at your split lip, his concentration focused on you. Finally, he reached down to take your hand, giving it the same treatment and wiping away the smear.  

When he was done, he dropped the cloth back into the sink, frowning at you.  

“There’s got to be something we can do for the bruising.” Colby mumbled to himself, lifting his hand to trail his fingers gently across your neck. It didn’t really bother you. You had no fear of Colby touching you.  

“Let’s bring you up to my room. You can just relax in the blankets and maybe the softness of the bed will ease the pain?” Colby suggested, leading you away without waiting for you to respond. You ascended the stairs together, Colby supporting you easily. You were still shirtless, but it didn’t really bother you. You had nothing to hide- everyone had already seen the worst of it anyways.  

He settled you in his bed, covering you with his blankets before kissing your head and telling you he’d return shortly. You heard him in Sam’s room. Heard him, and Sam conversing- worry clear in both voices. It didn’t bother you that he went to Sam- and was telling Sam everything. Sam was such a good friend, and he had been around longer then you.  

You let your eyes close, enjoying the warmth of the covers. Colby had been right that the bed would ease the pain. You barely felt anything as you lied in his pillows.  

“Hey, I’m back. Sam suggested using a cold compress. We don’t have those, so I got a bag of frozen carrots. I don’t think Devyn will mind. I can always replace them.” Colby explained. He sat on the edge of his bed, setting the bag down carefully on your neck so that the frozen vegetables were spread around in the bag.  

When he felt that it was properly placed, he pulled himself up to lay beside you. You shuffled over, wanting to be close to him. You sighed quietly, eyes shut and a small smile on your face. It was nice being here with him. He was taking such good care of you.  

“I’m sorry you had to go through this,” Colby whispered.  

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you...” you returned, then added, “and I’m sorry I let him cut you off. You’re my best friend- and I’ve been terrible to you...”

“It’s in the past,” Colby waved it off, giving you a small tired smile.  

“We should try and sleep now. I can only ward off the roommates for so long. I assured everyone that you were alright, but they’re gonna wanna check in tomorrow.” You laughed quietly, chest lighting up with warmth at the thought of all these people you wronged being worried and wanting to check up on you.  

“I don’t deserve you guys,” you mumbled sleepily, inching closer to curl into Colby.  

“You do,” he returned, wrapping around you and burying his nose in your hair. You fell asleep to Colby readjusting the carrots as he carded his fingers through your hair. It was the best you’d slept in months- even under the terrible circumstances.