#But also. if he could love her without her bending herself backwards to fit his expectations...

[starfoam]

"My heart does not stir lightly... but it does now."

I cannot even begin to express just what being told this meant to her.

[late-to-the-fandom]

Discipline bid him go no further. Renathal swept it ruthlessly aside. There was no reason not to take what he wanted now. Elisewin would soon be gone. The least they both deserved was to enjoy themselves before the end. Read on Ao3 here. Warning: M-Rated smut.

Renathal sat in his trousers and shirtsleeves in one of the little-used chairs by the unlit fireplace in his bedroom, waiting for Breakfist to arrive and turning his medallion over in his hands, wondering if there was any point in wearing the useless thing to court at all.

He liked to think he controlled the other Harvesters as much through his own abilities as his Master’s imparted magic, but he could not deny the Medallion of Dominion had always helped keep the more unruly Venthyr in line. A slight lean into its irresistibly imperious power could stop the Fearstalker and the Stonewright coming to blows; the Countess circulating some vindicative rumour; the Tithelord pocketing unattended anima rubies. The ethics of this might unsettle the likes of the Accuser, but Renathal slept just fine. It was his job, after all, and, unlike many Harvesters over the eons, he had never used his powers for personal gain.

Although...

He toyed idly with the fine, filigreed gold and imagined how different things might be with Elisewin if this were a rule he was willing and able to bend. He did not think it was coincidence keeping her from him the last few days. Since her nightmare, she had refused to remain long in any room Renathal entered and always had a ready reason to excuse herself from conversations he attempted to engage. Embarrassed at her display of weakness, or the unintended misconduct it had birthed, Renathal supposed; and with court preparations the top priority of all Darkwall Tower, he had permitted her behaviour to pass without comment. But it rankled him, nonetheless.

Might a gentle pressure from the medallion - so light in his hands now its reservoir was depleted - have persuaded her back to his side? Allowed them to resume that comfortable companionship he relied on to stave off his more dangerous cravings? Perhaps not. Perhaps the mortal flesh preventing her soul from being harvested also possessed the ability to resist even the Master's dominating power.

Hypnotised by his own aimless train of thought and the glint of the dull purple jewel in his room’s dim candlelight, Renathal heard the soft, tentative knock only distantly, and called “Enter, Breakfist,” without registering its implications. The click of unfamiliar shoes jerked him from his reverie. He twisted in his seat, caught sight of the figure in the open doorway, then shot up with an alacrity that sent the chair tumbling backward onto the hearth.

“Breakfist is busy, Your Highness,” said Elisewin, closing the door behind her and politely failing to notice the clatter of wood on brick or Renathal’s muttered oath as he hastily righted the chair. “There is some sort of last-minute disaster in the kitchens. He was quite frantic about it, and since I am little use with food, I volunteered to come and… assist you in his stead.”

There was a stilted, formal note to her usual impassivity, and she stood awkwardly just inside the room, the door at her back, as if reluctant to venture any deeper inside. But Renathal barely noticed her nuances of demeanour. His eyes were busy adjusting to the sight of her new and entirely unexpected attire.

"Where did you get that dress?" he asked, the question staggering between astonishment and awe.

Elisewin blinked, then looked down at herself.

"The wardrobe," she said simply. "It's quite lovely, thank you." Her fingers traced the corset's bronze buckles and trailed into the swell of red satin skirts beneath. "Mind you, it did take two dredgers to help fasten me into it, but it’s surprisingly easy to move about in once it's on, and" - she glanced up at Renathal, violet pinpricks glowing on her cheekbones - "it's a perfect fit."

That was obvious. From the hem that fell just above the top of her brocade boots to the graceful, gold, winged shoulder ornaments positioned precisely not to scrape her pointed ears, every inch of the ensemble looked as if it had been tailored to Elisewin's exact mortal specifications. Which made it all the more perplexing.

"You say you found this in the guest room wardrobe?" asked Renathal, his words as uncertain as his steps as he made his way towards Elisewin, dropping his medallion carelessly onto the chiffonier as he passed.

"Yes," she replied, warily watching his approach. "I... assumed you left it for me to wear?"

"Ah."

It was not really an answer. But Renathal had no answer. He had not left her a dress, specifically commissioned or otherwise, and he could not think why one should be there. He could barely think at all. He reached Elisewin before he realised, standing far too close than strictly proper, but reluctant to retreat and unable to tear his eyes from the entrancing sights: her dark hair in its elegantly arranged high pile, the little red jewel set against black lace fastened around the exposed skin of her throat, the plunging neckline that clung to the swell of her breasts as if painted on...

…until Elisewin coughed, a little pointedly, and waved a dubious hand at the dress form on which Renathal’s armour waited.

“Shall I help you into your armour, your Highness?" she asked. “I... would not want to make you late for your own court.”

Renathal closed his eyes briefly and wrestled his thoughts, a tangled knot of confusion and desire, back to firmer, safer ground. Court was the top priority now. All other mysteries could be dealt with later.

“Of course,” he conceded. "Come. I will... guide you through the process," and, with the faintest of audible sighs, Renathal braced himself for what he was sure would be a most exquisite torture.

He was not disappointed.

Besides the anticipated cruelties of long, warm fingers pressed firmly to various parts of him - his back, his chest, his upper arms, his lower stomach where fiery anima pooled and every fibre of Renathal's being was required to keep his body's natural responses in check - there was something highly sensual about watching Elisewin handle his armor. Her hands moved across each green and gold piece of plate with easy grace, positioning them precisely, and almost before he had issued instructions - exactly as they did not when wielding a duelling rapier. Half in curiosity and half to distract himself from the sight of her sinking to her knees to affix his tassets, Renathal remarked:

"This is not your first time working with plate, I see."

“It is that I recall,” Elisewin contradicted absently. "But I suppose I may have done it before and just cannot remember."

There was none of the morose frustration that usually accompanied such admissions. She lapsed back into studious silence, wholly focused on his legs, and Renathal searched frantically for another distraction. His eyes fell on his medallion, abandoned atop the chiffonier. Moving carefully so as not to upset her work, he reached for the simple silver chain and slipped it over his head. Light though it now was, something about its familiar feel against his chest plate strengthened Renathal’s sagging self-control.

"What is that?" asked Elisewin, rising and straightening her rumpled skirts.

“The Medallion of Dominion,” he answered, pleased to hear his voice resonate with well-composed pride. “My allotted portion of the Sire’s power. Each Harvester is given one to assist in the execution of their duties.”

Elisewin eyed the unassuming purple gem.

“It has powers?”

“Well. Usually,” Renathal admitted. “But the drought has required sacrifices from us all. I am afraid the medallions’ powers are… not what they once were. But I have never attended court without wearing it before. I should feel quite naked without it.”

Elisewin ducked her head abruptly, ostensibly adjusting the drape of her skirts, but with her hair pulled back off her face she could not hide her creeping violet blush. Renathal turned tactfully away, allowing her time to recover, and inspected the reflection of his irrepressibly smug smile in the mirror of the chiffonier.

This was no expertly crafted, anima-imbued Venthyr creation, but a slightly warped mortal looking-glass, acquired from the Night Market epochs ago and chosen specifically for the way it lent Renathal’s torso a slightly more generous breadth. He admired it for a few satisfied seconds, then flicked his gaze to the image of Elisewin straightening up behind him, and wondered if the dark, almost hungry glint in her blue-white eyes as she appraised him was simply another trick of the imperfect glass.

Immoderately pleased regardless, he gestured towards the door and announced, "Shall we?" at the same time Elisewin blurted, "Shall I do your hair, Your Highness?"

For a few frozen heart beats, each stared at the other through the safe medium of the wobbly glass. All Renathal's smugness had evaporated. Even Elisewin's impassivity seemed to waver at the edges. In the end, it was Renathal who found his tongue first.

“What would you do to it?”

“Oh...” Elisewin blinked. Apparently, she had not expected this response. “I... don't know.” The red jewel in the hollow of her throat quivered as she swallowed, then reached up to run a cautious hand through the long, loose strands of pale hair cascading down Renathal's back. “Is there anything you would prefer? Something... elegant? Impressive?”

She pronounced the words like questions, as if the Dark Prince might be above such frivolous concepts. He was not. But Renathal knew he would have agreed to almost anything to keep her touching him just like that.

"Surprise me," he heard himself say, and allowed Elisewin to lead him to his vacated chair by the fireplace and ease him gently down.

And if having her dress him had been torture, this was a punishment worthy of the Sire himself. And one Renathal knew he deserved, for how easily it could - and should, he berated himself - have been avoided. But once Elisewin sank warm fingers into the mass of hair across his scalp, stroking gently as she parted and gathered, all thought of courts and resolutions and time itself drifted away, and it was all Renathal could do to keep himself from moaning aloud.

When was the last time anyone had touched him like this? Soft and sweet and unassuming, entirely free of hostile machination or unpleasant ulterior motive? He let his eyes flutter closed, forgetting to affect even the slightest breath as he tilted his neck, offering himself up to un-self-conscious pleasure, until - far too quickly - the fingers ceased their work, and a throaty voice murmured in his ear, "There. See what you think, Your Highness."

Renathal rose and followed Elisewin to the chiffonier, his movements steady but perception hazy, as if he had stepped into the realm of dream. A sensation compounded by the unusual reflection staring back at him from the mortal mirror: his yellow eyes gone anima-red with heat, his pinched features relaxed and cast slightly into shadow by the raised and intricate braid adorning the top of his head like a crown, the rest of his hair falling gracefully about his noticeably less-tense shoulders. It was almost, realised Renathal, the reverse of the Master's signature hairstyle. He wondered if Elisewin had done that on purpose. He wondered many things about her as he caught the eyes of her reflection again, even darker than before.

“Do you like it?”

"I..." In his dream-like state, it took Renathal a minute to sift through his store of words and find an appropriate sentiment. "I am... immensely pleased. Thank you… Elisewin." The little compulsive blush at his use of her name made Renathal's lips twitch. "Perhaps, we ought to make this one of your regular tasks."

The mirror caught a brief glitter of blue-white fire as Elisewin's eyes glowed at his reflection, then paled just as quickly. Renathal wondered if she, too, battled a set of conflicting emotions at the thought of repeating this scene every day.

But her response - "As you command, Your Highness," - was demure and devoid of undercurrent. And with a short dip of her head, Elisewin stepped backwards, redrawing inscrutability around herself like a cloak. “I should check in with Breakfist, now. Guests will be arriving shortly. I will see you in the courtyard, Your Highness.” 

Renathal waited until the door clicked closed behind her, then counted to ten - then ten again, when his simmering anima had not quite settled - before following her out the door and down the passage at a more dignified pace.

As he walked, he made a concerted effort to corral his wildly racing thoughts about his mortal: her unexpected talents, the mysteries that seemed to spring up in her tread, her recent reticence to be alone with him compared with her surprising eagerness to serve. These were all intriguing topics due long and serious contemplations, but they would keep until later. Renathal could not afford to be distracted.

He had a court to host.

Harvester's Courts were a time-honoured Revendreth tradition, a chance for the busiest and most heavily burdened of the Venthyr to relax, mingle, and entertain - or impress - their peers. Court offerings differed depending on the unique style of the hosting Harvester: the Fearstalker's, a hunt; the Stonewright's, feats of martial strength; the Countess', a generous sampling of lascivious activities; and the Accuser's, some staid, formal, and traditional - in other words, dull - display. 

The Dark Prince had developed a reputation for offering a court that catered to every taste. The atmosphere was lively, but refreshing, the provided entertainments interactive and accessible. Guests were handpicked by the Prince and chosen for their expertise, conversation, or charm - the Sire himself could often be seen in attendance. There was music and dancing in the Tower's modest ballroom; fencing demonstrations and occasional duelling tournaments, outside. Food was a quaint addition at which the other Harvesters initially sneered, but which had become quite the trend in the last few centuries, even the Countess forced to capitulate to its utilitarian decadence.

It was an exquisite event, always months in the planning, and Renathal might not have bothered with any of it. For this particular court, at least. Each guest who ascended the stairs or stepped from the lift or emerged from the shadows through which they had wended ignored the fastidious finery - the shadow of a thousand flickering candle flames dancing across the spotless terrace, the heavy, ornate tables laden with anima-infused food and drink - and spared only the briefest of required greetings for their host before taking up strategically placed positions around the courtyard, the better to watch the work of the realm’s newest and most noteworthy resident.

But if Elisewin felt the weight of the hundred odd eyes, she gave no indication. She flitted between clusters of guests in time to the distant strains of sweeping music with barely a wobble on her high-heeled boots, offering trays of drinks and foodstuffs, allowing herself to be gaped at and even, occasionally, touched.

Renathal, monitoring her carefully from his own post by the courtyard's central anima font, wrinkled his nose in disapproval as one brazen noble traced the length of her exposed lavender neck with a curious, gloved hand. Renathal's own tightened on his glass of anima wine; an uncommon indulgence, but necessary for settling his still-electric nerves. Elisewin's, however, remained perfectly steady. Her tray did not even rattle as she curtsied and extricated herself from the Venthyr's attentions. Her implacable demeanour was, Renathal conceded, particularly well-suited for a formal court. And, making a note to find some sin with which to condemn the noble in question to an especially dank crypt for a fortnight at least, he tore his gaze reluctantly from Elisewin's competent perambulations and turned his focus to the rest of the terrace and its sea of rustling, muttering guests.

"Everything seems to be going smoothly," remarked a gravelly voice from over the Dark Prince’s shoulder.

"Yes, it certainly does," Renathal agreed without turning. He knew the General's voice, and the hulking, winged shadow he cast across the square, paved stones, by heart. "I expected a few squabbles over anima conservation, allotments, and the like, but… nothing so far. No fights, no rumours, no plots. It would appear the other Harvesters are on their best behaviour."

He sipped idly at his drink while the General digested this observation.

"They are up to something, then," Draven concluded.

"My thoughts precisely."

Renathal’s expression was half grin, half grimace as he made a subtle survey of the four Harvesters currently in attendance over the rim of his glass.

The power struggle for control of the most medallions had been a favourite pastime of his for many an age. Everything from securing loyalties and wielding their powers by proxy to outright theft of the coveted gold-bound gems, the Dark Prince had done it all. And better than most. But even before the mortal’s arrival, he had felt the game’s appeal beginning to wane. And now, where once he enjoyed, even encouraged, instances of in-fighting for a bit of fun, Renathal’s foremost concern was ensuring court ran as smoothly as possible, without any - his eyes flicked to the circulating Elisewin and her easily-marked mortal skin - collateral damage.

Shifting slightly, so he might face Draven and still keep an eye on the courtyard at large, Renathal cleared his throat and began with a show of polite hesitation.

“My friend… you are here as my guest, and I would hate to put you to any undue trouble. However-”

"Which one should I keep my eye on?" the General interrupted decisively.

"The Stonewright," replied Renathal at once. "I do not think the Accuser or the Curator will deign to attend. And Chelra is keeping watch on the Fearstalker and the Tithelord."

Both Venthyr and Stoneborn shot identical glances at the shadowy corner of the terrace where the latter two Harvesters stood together, side by side in awkward, silent companionship, noticeably unattended by their usual requisite bands of hovering sycophants.

“It is strange to see them so… friendly with each other,” said Draven, voicing Renathal’s thoughts.

“Yes, and both have been ominously quiet of late. If those two particular harvesters have formed an alliance, it can be for nothing good. Which is why I have assigned Chelra to keep an eye.” Renathal flicked a finger at the sky above where a lone Stoneborn figure glided in low, eerie circles. “Of all quarters, theirs is the one from which I most suspect potential attack. As Princeguard, monitoring their activities has become part of Chelra’s duties.”

Draven nodded briskly, noting, “That still leaves one major player,” and Renathal did not need the Stoneborn’s rough jerk of the head towards the courtyard’s most fashionably dressed contingent and the Harvester holding court in its center to know to whom he referred. “She is still seething that you managed to capture the mortal for yourself. She will want to interfere.”

As if guided by some supernatural sense, the Harvester in question lifted her beady eyes to where the Dark Prince and the General stood. And, whether informed by the same uncanny power or simply guessing at the nature of their private conversation and taking it as her cue, she leaned languidly across the table to murmur something in the ear of a nearby noble who jumped from their chair in a rattle of gold bangles and scanned the surrounding terrace for something or someone.

Renathal, eyes narrowed, guessed who.

“Leave her to me.”

He downed the rest of his wine but held tight to the glass as he descended the anima font’s high platform. Gliding sedately across the terrace, formal coat billowing dramatically behind him, Renathal rearranged his features to reflect an equal degree of regal composure. He anticipated battle. And a cool head and cooler demeanour were the greatest weapons he could wield against his epochs-old nemesis: the Harvester of Desire.

Historically the least among the seven harvesters, this particular incarnation - the Countess - had elevated the position to one of fear and grudging renown. She oversaw festivities, entertainments, and carnal privileges; approved - or disapproved - relationships of all sorts and reported illicit examples to the Master. She had spies in every corner of the realm - including, Renathal was certain, his own estate - and an appetite for new and interesting experiences to rival even his.

The skin on the back of Renathal’s armoured neck prickled as he watched the Countess stand in a swish of narrow hips and dark skirts to greet his mortal charge. Hunger gleamed in her black, beady eyes, and a snap of her fingers had some socialite whisking Elisewin's tray from her hands, leaving her open and unprotected from the Countess' salacious inspection. She looked the mortal up and down with undisguised greed, ran a wanton hand across the fine material of her skirts, her sleeves, her corset; reached up - Elisewin was several inches taller than most Venthyr - to adjust the red jewel sparkling in the hollow of her throat. Catching sight of the Prince’s approach, the Countess smiled - wet and predatory - and locked a proprietary arm around Elisewin’s waist to prevent her escape.

"Well, well, Renathal," the Countess gushed in her languorous alto. "Just look at the delicious prize you have tucked away up here. I was just saying to the Duke, you must lend her to us for one of my own little parties. It has been such a long time since any of us laid hands on a living mortal."

From further down the table, Renathal could hear Theotar's attempts at jovial protest sliding in and out of the hearty agreements and lascivious catcalls from the rest of the Countess' coterie.

"A charming idea," said Renathal, and the table was suddenly struck with an expectant hush. Leaning casually against the nearby candle-covered archway, he lifted his empty glass to his lips for a moment before continuing, "But... I fear the mortal is still pursuing her atonement. Such decadent pleasures are beyond the privilege, and, indeed, the appreciation, of new, unrepentant souls."

"Oh, I offer as many punishments as pleasures," purred the Countess. "If it is suffering she deserves, that can most certainly be arranged." 

Her crimson-painted, claw-like nails closed tighter around Elisewin's waist, digging into the bodice just above the protective corset. Elisewin hissed with the unexpected pain, and Renathal's carefully modulated control abruptly snapped.

"No."

It was too blunt, too brusque. It went against all Venthyr tact. The nobles at the table looked scandalised, the socialities tittered, and even the Countess had to work hard to conceal her offended shock.

"Tut, tut, Renathal," she chided, tossing back her corkscrew curls. “Such rudeness unbecomes a gracious host.”

"And openly purloining a host's staff unbecomes a gracious guest."

The Countess laughed; a lusty, practiced sound.

“Share and share alike, Renathal. Or have you not yet learned your lesson?” She retracted her claws from the flesh of Elisewin’s waist in favour of stroking her delicate cheek as she mused “Such warmth. I can certainly see the appeal. Perhaps I should apply to the Master for my own turn with the mortal. Where is he?” She made a show of peering around the courtyard. “Oh, that's right. He did not come! What a monstrous slight. Although...”

The Countess' small eyes flicked from a nearby band of roving dredgers to the candle wax dripping down the brick of the archway beside Renathal's rigid form. She gave a small sniff of distaste.

“This is hardly your best work, Renathal. Spending a little too much time on unsanctioned distractions, are we? I doubt the Master will be pleased. But his methods of correction have proved painfully effective in the past, have they not?” The implications of her threat uncoiled horribly between them like some enormous serpent rearing its restless, hungry head. “Or…”

The Countess caught Elisewin’s chin in her crimson claws, tilting her head down to breathe her words obscenely into the fixed and unblinking lavender face.

“I suppose I could take the mortal off your hands myself. We need not involve the Master at all. And, of course, you would be welcome to pay a visit. When you are not busy attending to your own, far more important duties, of course.” She cocked her head at Renathal, black eyes glinting in triumph. “What say you, Prince of Revendreth?”

Unbroken silence reigned through the courtyard. No dredgers moved, no guests dared speak, even the distant music from the ballroom had ceased. The only sound was the dull thump of the motionless mortal’s hammering heartbeat as every living and unliving thing in Darkwall held its breath, waiting for the Harvester of Dominion to pronounce his judgment.

Renathal did not notice. Heedless of anything but the two females watching him in wildly different examples of tense expectation, he pushed off from the candle-lit archway. All his writhing knot of repressed concerns and confusions were stilled as he stalked toward the Countess. There was room for only one thing within him. He set his glass on the table, prised the Countess’ fingers from Elisewin’s chin and tightened his hand around them, enjoying the feel of bone splintering under the force of his fury.

"If you touch her again..." intoned Renathal, and the dread and dominion in his voice made the very air across the courtyard shudder. "You will find yourself Countess of the Ember Ward, your greatest indulgence licking scraps of anima off burning glass."

This time, the Countess' laugh was bitter and brittle, her face contorted in an attempt to conceal her fear and pain.

"So possessive, Renathal. Such an unappealing trait. I never did enjoy it." With an unglamorous spasm, she ripped her hand from his and stumbled back, bumping into the chair behind her and tucking her broken fingers into some hidden fold of her gown. "I would reign that in before it gets you into trouble. Yet again. Come."

She spat the last at the breathlessly waiting table. There was a sudden flurry of capes and gowns and a clatter of scraping and sliding chair legs as the nobles and socialites stood and hastened to follow their Harvester's instructions. The surrounding courtyard, too, sprang back to frenetic life. Summoned servants rushed hastily past, dredgers scurried underfoot, fetching coats and sinrunners and carriages. Renathal grabbed Elisewin's waist and hauled her back toward the brick archway, safely out of the fray. 

But not out of danger.

In the clamour and chaos, no one could hope to prove for certain whether the Countess' elbow jostled the tower of red tapers off the arch by accident or with deliberate intent. But Renathal, whose coat the candles just happened to land on, had his suspicions.

"Whoops," she said as she passed, swelling fingers pressed to her cheek in entirely unconvincing chagrin. "How clumsy of me."

Renathal had no time to retort, or to hurl the Countess off the edge of Darkwall. The hem of his coat had ignited, flames creeping toward his hair at an alarming speed. Dredgers were yelling, socialites were screaming, and Elisewin was twisting in his arms, crying something he could not understand. Hands working in tandem, they managed to extricate Renathal from the burning garment, with many indecorous contortions on his part and more than one rude and raucous laugh from the gawping crowd.

Finally free of the threat of flames, Elisewin's warm hands found Renathal’s face. He could hear her this time as she asked, “Are you alright?” in a low, strained hush, but he did not answer. His attention was gripped by the figure in the distance, watching the coveted mortal stroke back his wayward hair with beady, vindictive eyes. Renathal read their intent. And, as she was ushered into her carriage, he knew exactly where the Countess was going and what she going to do.

It was, unquestionably, the worst court the Dark Prince had ever hosted.

The best that could be said was that the fire did not spread to any of the guests. And a combination of mud and liberal stamping eventually extinguished the flames. Renathal’s coat was a filthy, smoking ruin, of course, and he had been forced to forgo it as he bid his guests early and unceremonious farewells. The ones who bothered to give him notice of their leave, that was. The Stonewright took flight with her Stoneborn attendants after throwing a cursory look of disgust the Prince’s way. The Fearstalker and the Tithelord had simply disappeared, and the Accuser and the Curator - as well as the Master himself - had never bothered to arrive.

Which was lucky, even if it was a glaring slight, Renathal considered, as he dragged himself up the staircase to the quiet sanctuary of his bedchamber. Unkind of him, perhaps, to leave the mess of the courtyard to the dredgers and Elisewin, but what was the point of having servants if one could not assign them such tedious chores? Especially when one was weighed down with other, heavier burdens, and Renathal’s back was practically bent under the day’s frustrations and confusions and… other things.

The memory of the Countess' fingers on Elisewin's skin….

A bolt of vicious jealousy like a red-hot brand seared through Renathal’s chest, sending him sprinting up the last flight of stairs and down the hall as if it were an enemy he could outrun. Reaching the safety of his rooms, he ripped the useless medallion from his neck and threw it against its velvet stand. Even a fraction of its usual power would have had the Countess as far from Elisewin as the terrace allowed with a single, murmured word and no unnecessary fuss, sparing Renathal a mortifying scene, and him and Elisewin both its inevitable repercussions. Even now, the Countess would be reporting their visible attachment to Denathrius, the essence of which was true even if the salacious details she inevitably imagined and would relay as fact were not.

He would lose her. He had failed, in spite of all his efforts. If he was lucky, all the Master would do to them both was take her away. And if he was not-

A knock at his door interrupted Renathal’s miserable spiral. This time he recognised the quiet, cautious rhythm, and his anima vibrated in simultaneous excitement and dread. He should send her away. He was in too dangerous a state for this. He did not have the proper mental equilibrium necessary to resist what he wanted.

Although… a new and intriguing thought wormed its way to the front of Renathal's mind... did he really have to, anymore? Now that punishment loomed regardless...

“Enter, Elisewin,” he heard himself call.

The door creaked open, then closed with a gentle snap. Heeled shoes clicked nervously across the wood floor to the Tazavesh rug.

“I… came to see if you needed any help. With your armour. Your Highness."

Elisewin's voice was oddly jumpy; her breathing, slightly uneven. Renathal fancied he could hear the rapid fluttering of her mortal heart, and the pitch and toss of conflicting emotion within him coalesced into something clear and urgent.

“Yes, thank you.”

His own voice was steady, his face calm and collected when he turned to face her. He even managed to conjure up a small, encouraging smile. Nevertheless, Elisewin approached with more trepidation than was her usual idiom, and kept her eyes fixed on each piece of soot-stained armour as she unfastened them from his body and replaced them fastidiously on their stand. This time, Renathal did not shy away from watching her, even when she dropped to her knees in front of him to remove his dusty tassets. The visual was stirring, and he let himself be stirred; the anima-rousing sensation a welcome distraction from impending dread.

“I’m sorry, for… everything. With the Countess,” said Elisewin quietly to his knees. “I didn’t know what to - I mean, I didn’t mean to-”

“Do not apologise. You were exemplary,” said Renathal with genuine earnest. “The Countess was always going to make trouble, one way or the other. There was nothing more you could have done.”

His reassurance seemed to hearten Elisewin enough to lift her gaze as she worked.

“I do hope an… an imperfect court won’t hurt your reputation with the other Harvesters. I know this was important, and they did seem… displeased.”

Renathal laughed at that. Elisewin blinked, and fumbled the final buckle.

“Oh, please, think nothing of my reputation. It will not suffer. This was a very minor setback. One loss in a long-standing game. There will be an eternity more, and I have the advantage.”

“I see,” she said in a tone that belied her words. “I was only worried because… well, the Countess mentioned the Sire. I hope you won't suffer any… repercussions?”

Renathal swallowed hard, his brief surge of humour drained.

"None to which I am not well accustomed."

Rising awkwardly, arms laden with green and gold plate, Elisewin cocked her head at Renathal as she brushed past him to replace the rest of his armor. But Renathal could bring himself to confess no more. He wondered if he ought to warn her what was happening, what consequences awaited them both. But perhaps she might not mind them. Certainly, the other souls the Sire claimed never had. During the act, anyway, and what became of them after Renathal had never permitted himself to discover.

The memories twisted his face into a ghastly grimace, one look at which made Elisewin swallow any further questions. Averting her eyes, she ducked quickly around him and reached up to undo his braid, the rhythmic caress of her fingers a pleasant balm against the upswell of agonising despair.

When she finished - again, too quickly for Renathal’s liking - she inhaled raggedly and met his gaze in the chiffonier’s warped mirror.

“Is there… anything else I can do?”

Renathal turned slowly. He wanted to be sure the darkening tint in Elisewin’s blue-white eyes as they wandered over his loose linen shirt was no trick of the glass or the light. But the glitter in them lingered even as he faced her, worrying at the buckles of her corset, waiting breathless for his invitation.

“No,” said Renathal, and the disappointment that danced briefly across her impassive features decided him. “But perhaps I may do something for you, since the dredgers are occupied. Let me help you out of your dress.”

Without waiting for her response, he spun his finger in a circle, indicating she should turn. Elisewin, eyes wide, did so, tripping on her heels; a clumsiness she had shown no sign of during court. Renathal closed the distance between them in a single step, his trousers brushing against her skirts as he leaned in to undo the overdress’s many fastenings and tiny clasps. “Lift your arms,” he murmured in her ear, and reached around her waist to unbuckle the complicated corset. It fell to the floor with a muted thud, followed by the rustle of satin as the overdress slid from her arms. All that remained was her thin, vermillion shift. Elisewin shivered where she stood in her pool of shed garments, but did not otherwise move.

Discipline bid him go no further. Renathal swept it ruthlessly aside. There was no reason not to take what he wanted now. Elisewin would soon be gone. The least they both deserved was to enjoy themselves before the end.

On a sensual whim, he unlocked the clasp of her lacey necklace, then slid his fingers up her newly bared neck and unfastened her hair from its high-piled knot. Dark silky waves fell across Elisewin's exposed back. Renathal brushed them over one shoulder, leaving the other entirely bare. He traced long, sharp fingernails delicately across its inviting dips and planes, drinking in her sharp gasp like a redolent wine and catching her waist with the other hand as her back arched against him. The feel of her body pressed instinctively to his with so little left to separate them evaporated whatever inhabitations he might still have maintained.

Dipping his head without thought, anticipating without regret, Renathal let his lips find the madly beating pulse beneath the mortal flesh of Elisewin’s throat.

It was warm. A living heat radiated through her Renathal would happily, gratefully burn in. He opened his mouth wider, trailing wet, sharp-edged kisses up the lavender skin he had dreamed of since the first time he saw it. Elisewin’s legs shook like willowy tree limbs beneath him, his arm around her waist surely all that kept her from collapse. And the cry that escaped her - “Your Highness!” - seemed excessive for how little Renathal was really doing. He could not tell if it begged for more or begged for him to stop.

Drawing his lips reluctantly from her skin, he spoke against her ear.

“What do you want, Elisewin?”

There was a delightful, full-body shudder at her name, then the briefest hesitation, before Elisewin craned her neck to find Renathal's anima-hot eyes and whisper raggedly, “Don’t stop, please.”

Such short, small words to shatter the Dark Prince’s epochs-old resolve. But his body took her request as a new and truer law. He pressed more firmly against her as his mouth resumed its work, tasting every inch of skin it could reach while his hands wandered the quivering curves of her body through her shift. And that had to go. It all had to go. He would permit nothing to keep her from him any longer. Undoing the laces of her underdress with frantic speed, Renathal kept his lips on Elisewin’s jawline, lapping up each breathy sigh and needy whimper, every high-pitched sound she made for him sending anima singing to his core.

When the last of her layers hit the floor, he spun her to face him, dragging her mouth to his, and giving their lips the relief they both sought. Her taste was refreshing, the blunt edges of her teeth and the heat of her mouth, a strange blend of exotic and somehow familiar, like coming home after eons away. Too soon, Elisewin was tugging her head to the side, gasping for the air Renathal had forgotten was not an affectation for mortals. As she panted, her lust-clouded eyes met his, then fell to his chest where her hands waited, trembling, and he knew exactly what she wanted. He tugged his shirt over his head, saving them seconds of undoing buttons, and reveled in Elisewin's open-mouthed stare of longing as she traced his cold flesh, entranced.

But there was no time for long, exquisite explorations. Any moment could bring the Master to his door. Renathal claimed her lips again, and Elisewin eagerly complied, though now she was sure she had permission, her hands continued their journey, mapping the harsh angles of his torso and arms. Nor could his own stay idle for long.

“Your Highness,” called Elisewin hoarsely as his fingers kneaded and dimpled her warm, naked flesh. And Renathal paused, one hand cupping her chin, tilting her gaze to his and reclaiming the skin from the memory of the Countess.

“Say my name."

It was as much plea as command.  Renathal had longed to hear the distinct way Elisewin said his name since crying it after her nightmare, and -

“Renathal…”

- he could not suppress his moan of satisfaction. It was every bit as delicious from her now as it had been then.

“Again," he growled.

“Renathal,” Elisewin gasped, as Renathal lifted her into his arms, wrapped her bare thighs around his trousers, and stumbled with her to his bed. He set her down as gently as his desperation allowed him, divesting himself of the last of his clothes, and “Renathal,” she moaned again as she drank in the sight of him ready for her.

Her mouth hung slightly open and Renathal gave himself up to pride. What was one more sin?

“That’s right,” he murmured, his voice a low, guttural purr. “Call for me.”

And, attentive to his needs as ever, Elisewin obeyed. For hours. Long into Revendreth’s socially constructed night. There were wards on Darkwall Tower preventing even the Master’s eavesdropping, but, even so, there were points where Renathal was certain her cries must be heard across the district. Not that he minded. Elisewin’s encouragements only spurred him to greater, deeper, harder heights. He wanted to discover every sound he could draw from her, every beautiful way she could say his name.

Renathal’s stamina surprised him. After all, he had been sadly out of practice for thousands of years. But even he had a limit, and, at last, he could do no more than collapse back, panting, against his silk pillows, holding Elisewin to his sweat-slicked chest and running his fingers like a ritual over and over through her own damp hair. He knew he was spent, but he wanted more. Mere hours of pleasure were not enough. The despair Elisewin had held at bay crept back up Renathal's ribcage, and he clutched her tighter to him.

Where was Denathrius? Surely, he was on his way. The Countess had plenty of time to relay the story of his court by now.

In the distance, the grandfather clock's deep chime reverberated through the Tower, and Renathal strained his ears to catch its sounding time. A quick calculation informed him nearly all of Revendreth’s resting hours were gone. And there had been no interruptions. No Breakfist knocking to inform him the Sire was waiting, no messengers with summons. A tiny flicker of hope, deadly as Light, licked at Renathal’s resignation. If he had miscalculated the Countess… if the Master had not spared the time to see her… if he had not believed her...

“Come here,” Renathal rumbled, beckoning Elisewin to his lips. She complied, slowly, meeting him in a kiss clumsy and weary from their hours of satisfying exercise. “Stay here tonight,” he murmured into her mouth. He could taste her teasing smile as she breathed, "Is that a command, Your Highness?" in reply.

“Yes," said Renathal with equal jest, but even as he said it, he thought better of the joke. “No.”

Elisewin's lips froze against his, then pulled away. She blinked down at him as Renathal struggled to find words for concepts he had never in all his countless years had occasion to explain.

“This is… not a command," he said. “This…" He let a sweep of fingers toward both their naked bodies illustrate the indirect article, "is not part of your atonement. If anything, it may take you further from it. This - us - together - it is... ill-advised,” stuttered Renathal, choosing a word at random. “If the Master discovers us, there will be consequences for us both."

"What sort of consequences?" 

But even admissive as the mortal inspired him to be, Renathal could not bring himself to put those memories into words.

"The Sire possesses a wide selection of lessons," he said cryptically. "Most of which are unpleasant. And all of which will certainly set your atonement back. Any intimacy is... dangerous. I cannot command it - or, even, in good conscience, ask it of you..."

Renathal's voice trailed away as Elisewin peered down at him through her reaffixed inscrutable mask. He fought to keep his eyes on hers, watching what little could be gleaned of her thought process, but her parted lips were an unfair distraction. It was a struggle to keep himself from leaning up to capture them again, to lose himself in more of her warm, elysian pleasure, to forget what was coming just a little while longer...

“Do you want this?" asked Elisewin, interrupting his wayward thoughts. "Do you want... me? I mean... us?" she fumbled the word as if unsure of its correct pronunciation.

“Yes,” said Renathal, infusing his agreement with every ounce of his endless, sinfully possessive longing.

“Then it’s worth the risk,” she decided, placing a kiss on his forehead before drawing back to observe her handiwork - Renathal's dazed, slightly punchdrunk face. “You are worth the risk, Renathal. As long as I’m here, as long as you want me, I’m yours."

With a sigh, Elisewin let herself fall back, exhausted, against his pillows, and Renathal, her words igniting some hidden reserve of anima within him, followed her down. She was wrong, of course. Everything in the realm belonged to the Master. Her included. But for here, for now, for the moments he still had her, it was the thought that counted.

Read Chapter 8: Safe in the Shadows | Visit the Masterpost

If you enjoyed this story, I would love to hear it 💜

[skania]

SaiTeru: Why it Works for Me

So I’ve come to the conclusion that to finally exorcise all of my SaiTeru thoughts, I need to ramble about just what makes them so good together (in my eyes).

This entire post is just my very own personal perspective, of course; so you can pretty much mentally attach an IMHO to everything.

I’ll be using panels from the manga to illustrate my thoughts as well as I can. So if you’re interested in these two, by all means, get ready for an image-heavy post! And link-heavy, too, because I’ll be trying to not repeat too much of the stuff I’ve already mentioned in my SaiTeru posts lol

First, I’ve got to talk about Kokomi

Remember that time Saiki said that he is so powerful that his powers literally stole the joy of the mundane, everyday things; like romance?

This sweet summer child is in the same situation. Kokomi wants a "decent guy" that "suits" her, but all of her current suitors bore her. Of course they do! Every guy she comes across bends over backwards for her. No guy around her challenges her in any way.

To make matters worse, Kokomi only feels at ease with someone when she has established herself as their superior through the holy art of offu; aka, when she knows that all the give-and-take will be in her favor.

Needless to say, this is a recipe for disaster. If Kokomi were to settle for some guy that offues every time she so much as opens her mouth, she will have all the work done for her. She won’t ever need to go the extra mile for him because the guy will worship her. Kokomi will be able to read him like an open book, so she will never give the guy her all.

I feel, this right there is part of the reason why her feelings for Saiki develop the way they do. If it were just a matter of establishing her superiority, Kokomi would’ve developed a fixation with Kusuke; but aside from avenging her pride, she couldn’t care less about him.

No, the reason is that Saiki is that decent guy she had been looking for. Plus, by virtue of being unlike every other guy around her, Saiki makes her feel things.

He makes her guess, makes her nervous, makes her lose her cool.

He even makes her second-guess herself and forget she's a perfect, beautiful girl. For someone like Kokomi, this is huge!

These are all things that any normal girl in love would feel, but these emotions were out of Kokomi's reach until Saiki entered her life.

Not to mention, as the manga itself points out, Kokomi would need to be with a guy "who can stand against the entire world". Saiki is the only one who fits the bill, and the manga pretty much states it outright.

I'd even go as far as to say that, in the context of the manga, Saiki is in every single way Kokomi's one chance at experiencing love the way a normal person would.

Plus. Plus. Saiki can read her mind yet can’t see her looks. Which means that Saiki is the one person in the entire manga that truly sees Kokomi — all of her — and likes her for who she is, as she is.

And thanks to the alternate reality where Saiki comes clear about his powers (and SaiTeru are already dating), we know this will mean the world to Kokomi.

Okay, I think that by now it’s kind of obvious why I feel that God basically put Saiki in Kokomi's way so that his favorite child would find happiness (the day Kokomi notices Saiki for the first time is even her birthday, hello??)

Now, let me talk about the tsundere known as Saiki

Or rather, let me link the post where I talked about Saiki's side of the equation, because I want to try and keep this one short and sweet 😂 Saiki & Romance - Or rather, Saiki & why he could come to reciprocate Teruhashi's feelings.

Just like Saiki represents Kokomi’s best chance at a normal romance, I’d argue Kokomi may very well also represents Saiki’s.

Because with Kokomi, Saiki doesn’t feel superior. At the contrary, he knows that Kokomi will get her way more often than not. That even without him, she is practically invincible - and that together, they really are invincible.

Because with Kokomi, Saiki is always on his toes. Reading her mind is useless because he is still always, always guessing when it comes to her.

Because with Kokomi, his X-Ray Vision and Mind-Reading don't rob him of the chance of falling in love; at the contrary, they serve to bring him closer to her.

Heck, remember when Saiki confidently said that Chiyo wouldn’t be able to raise any love flags with him as his opponent? Well, when it comes to Kokomi, it’s Saiki who raises those flags; not Kokomi! Saiki might be the most powerful being on Earth, but he doesn’t stand a change against one Kokomi Teruhashi. And this is HUGE because Saiki likes troublesome things, and Kokomi is the most troublesome out of them all.

By the end of the manga, being alone with her even makes Saiki nervous. Not worried, not scared; actually, honest to God, nervous.

And the thing is that one could say, yeah okay but Saiki doesn’t like Teruhashi’s personality. And that would have been true at the start of the series, but by the end? Saiki definitely has come to like Kokomi exactly as she is, and his complaints are just him being a big ol’ tsundere.

Which FINALLY takes me to my favorite thing about them.

The Slow-Burn

Saying that I love their development would be a huge understatement. It’s just so good!

I love the irony!! Saiki's X-Ray vision and his Telepathy are the reasons Saiki can’t fall in love, yet they are also what set his development with Kokomi in motion. After all, since Saiki can’t see her looks, he is immune to her charms. But since he can read her thoughts, he can actually see her for who she truly is.

And practically every time he tries to make her like him less, it backfires and he ends up liking her more. It’s hilarious! lol

Saiki might not be particularly impressed with Kokomi at first, but this changes once Saiki becomes aware of how much sheer effort Kokomi pours into her everyday life. Saiki recognizes and respects Kokomi’s efforts more than anyone, because he is the same way!! Just like Kokomi, Saiki is fixated on giving a set image of himself and spends a lot of effort on achieving this.

This is why Saiki comes to respect Kokomi the way he does. By the end of the manga, he literally sings her praises left and right, says they're invincible together, etc. He couldn't think higher of her if he tried! lol

The biggest cornerstone in the Saiki-Kokomi development however is Saiki finally realizing that no, Kokomi isn't into him solely because he won't offu. Realizing Kokomi genuinely loves him quite literally "moves" Saiki's heart; and from that point onward, he makes no effort to get Kokomi to give up on him. Quite the opposite. But I digress because I've already gone on and on about all this in my SaiTeru posts 😂

Now, Kokomi's side is a lot more straight-forward, and the manga quite literally spells it out.

But one thing I adore that I haven't yet seen being brought up, is just how well Kokomi comes to know Saiki. Without realizing it, she ends up having a spot-on impression of him. Like, remember when Kokomi describes Saiki to his grandpa?

The joke here is that Kokomi thinks she’s making stuff up, but she isn’t. She’s actually, subconsciously, accurately describing Saiki, even stuff she’s not supposed to know; Saiki is gloomy, doesn’t talk a lot, doesn’t show what he’s thinking - but he’s also very responsible, prefers to support everyone from the sidelines instead of leading, is calm and gentle, and the type that naturally attracts people to him.

Kokomi instinctively gets all this because she’s so perceptive that she’s like a psychic. Her one mistake is thinking that Saiki is normal, which is why she was so shocked he wouldn’t react to her like your average guy; but then again, that’s exactly how Saiki wants her to see him lol

So TL;DR I love that these two kids that started the manga completely underestimating one another pretty much think the WORLD of each other by the time the series ends.

Lastly!!

I am 100% convinced they’d be great together

I’m going to be lazy again and just quote the TL;DR of Saiki and Kokomi are quite literally birds of a feather, because I still feel the same way:

It’s really funny just how much Saiki and Teruhashi have in common, because they seem so different at first glance.

But that’s what makes them complementary: as two people who know the superiority of standing on-top of their respective pyramids, and who have spent their entire lives with two older brothers who harbor such obsessions with them, they’ll be able to understand where the other comes from in their darkest moments.

At the same time though, they will also be able to balance the other when it comes to their most extreme traits. After all, they’re complete opposites in their rapport with others, in the way they express themselves and in the way they see their own powers.

Saiki and Kokomi are each other’s equal in more ways than one. But, all of their similarities aside, I’ve gone on and on and I haven’t talked about the elephant in the room, right?

That being, even if Saiki were to reciprocate Kokomi’s feelings, it would never work out because Saiki hates drawing attention to himself and Kokomi is so dedicated to being the most perfect beautiful girl that she would never settle for less. Right?

That is indeed a very valid concern. But, honestly?

I think they’ve already shown that they have what it takes to make it work.

In Chapter 242, which to me pretty much summarizes everything about SaiTeru’s development, Saiki shows that he has come so far that he is willing to attract attention to himself if it’s for Kokomi. He not only catches her in his arms in front of the entire school, he also glares at them for how far they’ve pushed Kokomi, and then he quite literally carries her bridal-style to the infirmary.

He could’ve simply gotten one of the guys there to do it, but no; Saiki did it himself. Which shows that when push comes to shove, Kokomi does come first.

And the same goes for Kokomi. In Chapter 242, Kokomi’s drive to be absolutely perfect in everyone’s eyes takes such a toll on herself that she literally collapses. Her drive is that strong. Yet, she throws every care for everyone’s perception of her away without a second thought simply to go thank Saiki for his help.

Which means that in Kokomi’s personal ranking, Saiki comes first. She cares more about him than she does about being perfect.

Let that sink in.

So, I definitely do think that despite their different “goals”, Saiki and Kokomi would be able to make it work.

Plus, well, they literally have God on their side. I’m willing to bet that, if one day Kokomi wants to go on a date with Saiki and he’s not in the mood for a crowd? She can make puppy-eyes at God and God will literally make it so no one even looks at them twice. And if Saiki one day needs to use his powers in public? Kokomi can so much as sneeze and all the attention will be on her; Saiki can set his hair on fire and no one will even notice. Hell, I’m pretty sure they might even think that whatever they see Saiki do is just a by-product of Kokomi vision.

And if it fails? They have their own personal army, the Kokomins, who have basically already accepted Saiki as Kokomi’s one true love.

In that way, I think Kokomi might very well be the perfect way for Saiki to hide his powers in plain sight. Similarly, Saiki can be Kokomi’s perfect weapon against her pervert of a brother - and so can Kokomi for Saiki when it comes to Kusuke, if the shrine chapter was anything to go by.

After all, just like Saiki says, when he and Kokomi are together, they are invincible.

So all in all... yeah. I’m hoping I managed to explain why I’m basically up there with Saiki’s God when it comes to these two, they are just meant to be together in my eyes lol

If you read this far, thank you for reading!! Maybe now I’ll be finally able to shut up about SaiTeru 😂

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

IOTA Reviews: Sole Crusher

Well... It's finally here... the episode introducing the new bee hero. And what do you know? It looks like I was right about how the new character would be portrayed.

It's kind of funny how I made predictions exaggerating what could happen, and they were surprisingly accurate. Isn't that funny?

Let's just get into the seventh (chronologically the seventh and the seventh episode in the season to air after “Mr. Pigeon 72”) episode of Miraculous Ladybug's fourth season: Sole Crusher. Damn, I hate that a pun this clever was used for the title.

We get to the point pretty quickly with the first scene being Zoe arriving in Paris and getting a tour of the city. She asks to stop at the Dupain-Cheng bakery, where she meets Marinette through some brief Unfunny Marinette Slapstick. The two quickly strike up a conversation.

I mean, it's not like Zoe is the sister of the absolute worst human being in existence, right?

Marinette compliments Zoe's shoes, and she points out that she designed them herself, and wrote every good thing anyone has ever said to her on them. But because she only has one friend, there's only a standard “I <3 U” on the left shoe.

So Zoe leaves the bakery and heads to Le Grand Paris where she meets her mother, Audrey. Unlike how she talked with Marinette, Zoe pretends to be just as snobby as Audrey in order to fit in. She then meets up with Chloe, who criticizes her for having poor person things like a phone without any diamonds embedded in it. And then she sees Zoe's shoes.

Look, that meme was already dated when it was referenced in Black Panther three years ago. Please don't try to reference memes in 2021, Miraculous Ladybug.

Chloe offers some golden heels while saying that those kind of shoes are for winners to wear and crush the losers underneath. This is the only episode to mention this kind of ideology, and believe me, it gets worse when Chloe decides to teach Zoe how to be like her.

Get used to this. This episode is all about demolishing any semblance of likability in Chloe's character. Now that Astruc doesn't have to bother with writing Chloe with decency since she's not Queen Bee, watch as he turns her into an absolute caricature of her former self.

Yes, Chloe has ordered her father to give her a lot of frivolous things in the past, but she has been shown to care about him, like immediately rushing to hug him after she was safe in “Origins” and showing concern for when he was akumatized into Malediktator while apologizing for causing it. For the love of God, one of the first things she did when she allied with Hawkmoth at the end of Season 3 was to have him unto her parents' akumatization. I guess she only cared about her rich parents for their status and not because she actually loved them right?

Next up on the list of Chloe's positive qualities to ruin is her friendship with Sabrina.

🎶It's seven o'clock in the morning🎶 🎶I can't believe they made this scene🎶 🎶With the writing Astruc's enforcing🎶 🎶It's like he's trying to piss off me🎶

Yep, Chloe doesn't view Sabrina in a twisted view of friendship anymore. Now she's a slave. I'm not exaggerating by the way, he actually said that in a tweet.

THIS IS WHAT THOMAS ASTRUC ACTUALLY BELIEVES

Okay, so I guess all those times we saw Chloe playing superheroes with Sabrina in “Antibug” and “Miraculer” were just a slave driver playing with their property. Actually apologizing to Sabrina for getting her akumatized in those episodes? Protecting her from the Scarlet Akumas in “Ladybug”? She was just interested in keeping her slave around. I think Astruc may have slept through the slavery unit in his history class. Yes, Sabrina was mostly used as a joke to show how controlling Chloe could be, but there were still semblances of an actual friendship between the two.

Chloe arrives at school and introduces Zoe as her half-sister, despite being the same age and having the same mother. Because I guess we can add basic biology to the list of things the writers don't understand. Now that we're at school, Chloe's friendship with Adrien is next up on the chopping block.

Yep, despite being Adrien's only friend and making a big deal about valuing his friendship to the point where she threw a big party just to make sure he wouldn't leave her and risked cooperating with an Akuma to save him, now Chloe just sees Adrien as a rich meal ticket. Two of the earliest episodes to show Chloe had a more compassionate side to her, and they just undid them. Even as much as I hated the episode, “Felix” showed Chloe was willing to cooperate with Marinette and her friends just to find a way to cheer Adrien up on the anniversary of his mother's not-death.

For the love of God, Astruc, 1984 was supposed to warn people about what could happen if they rewrote the past, not encourage people to rewrite the past. He probably finished Animal Farm thinking Snowball really did work alongside the humans, didn't he?

Marinette comes up and Zoe pretends to hate her, leading Marinette to wonder why she did that. She texts Zoe (she gave her number to her earlier) and invites her to a concert on the Liberty, but Chloe finds out. Zoe thinks fast and pretends it's just so she can torment her more. Chloe then takes out a book listing all the ways she can torture Marinette. I wonder if this is a metaphor for the writing process behind most of the episodes last season.

Zoe decides to go outside for some fresh air, and Andre comforts her. Funny how Andre bends over backwards to give Chloe whatever she wants, yet he's willing to actually talk to Zoe like an actual parent. Andre tries to cheer Zoe up, but she talks about her past where she had to put on an act so she would be liked, but (bet you've never heard this before) she just wants to be accepted for who she truly is. The surge of emotions is enough for Shadowmoth to akumatize her into Sole Crusher.

In addition to having one of the most clever puns for an Akuma name, I actually like Sole Crusher's design. Not only is it a good excuse to reuse Chloe's character design, it makes sense thematically, as Chloe was trying to mold Zoe into a copy of herself. The gold and diamonds also make sense given Chloe's love for shiny things. Her powers tie into the bizarre belief Chloe has about stepping on the winners. Whenever Sole Crusher kicks or steps on someone, she absorbs them and gets progressively bigger, making it easier to do so. While it's not cracking my top ten anytime soon, it's still an interesting character design.

Sole Crusher heads to the hotel to get Chloe, and she manages to get away pretty quickly. Maybe in an alternate universe, she's a track star? For some reason, she runs to the Dupain-Cheng bakery and then... Oh my God... pushes Marinette's parents so they get absorbed by Sole Crusher, before trying to do the same with Marinette.

When has Chloe ever done something like that? Whenever she endangered someone during an Akuma attack, it was unintentional or a result of her naivety. She was only trapped in Pixelator's dimension because Adrien tried diving to save her, she only alerted Rogercop to Ladybug's presence because she eagerly called out for her, and during “Zombizou” she only tried to throw Sabrina towards the horde of kissing zombies once, and that was meant to highlight her growth. The only person to actually do stuff like this consistently is Lila, but I guess she got vaporized by Big Brother offscreen.

This episode is determined to make the audience hate Chloe by retconning everything about her character while portraying her as a complete monster. As bad as Chloe could get, she was never selfish enough to use anyone as a human shield. This kind of behavior honestly could be explained by saying Chloe was lashing out as a result of losing the Bee Miraculous permanently, but the events of the Season 3 finale aren't mentioned ONCE, not even in the next episode that introduces Queen Bee's replacement! How the hell can you set up the next Bee hero without explaining why the original needs to be replaced in the first place?! And trust me, I'm going to talk about Zoe replacing Chloe later.

Sole Crusher grabs Marinette in her hand, so the Horse Kwami, Kaalki, uses her power to teleport over to Adrien's house and inform him Ladybug needs help, meaning once again Adrien did nothing in this episode before becoming Cat Noir.

At the Liberty, Chloe offers more victims to Sole Crusher in the form of the band Kitty Section (consisting of Luka, Juleka, Rose, Ivan, and Mylene) and theatens the giant golden supervillain she can send her back to Paris, even though she's really not in a position to bargain right now. And she STILL continues to insult her. Do you hate Chloe yet? Come on, do you? The writers won't stop until you do.

After we see Sole Crusher's conflicted emotions, Marinette is set free by Cat Noir and transforms into Ladybug, immediately summoning her Lucky Charm, a shoehorn. They only learn Zoe's sneakers were where she were akumatized thanks to Chloe's ranting, so the episode unintentionally made Chloe save the day. Ladybug breaks into Le Grand Paris and breaks the sneakers where Zoe hid them, using the shoehorn to open a door. So Sole Crusher is de-evilized, Ladybug fixes the damage, and gives yet another charm to Zoe.

Afterwards, Zoe goes to the Liberty, apologizes for the act she put on, all while divulging to the audience her “tragic backstory”.

Of course, everyone welcomes her with open arms.

And right here is where the biggest problem I have with Zoe as a character. I normally hesitate to use this term given how often it gets thrown around when criticizing characters these days, but I really can't say anything else.

Zoe... is a Mary Sue.

For those who don't know, the term Mary Sue originated in a Star Trek fanfiction from 1973 satirizing several self-insert stories at the time. Most of these stories showed a beautiful young woman joining the crew of the Enterprise and immediately gaining the attention of the crew. Mary Sue parodied this character archetype by showing how much she was appreciated by Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock, the latter being driven to tears at her funeral despite his species being emotionless normally.

What does this have to do with Zoe? She has the exact same storyline as Mary Sue in the parody fanfiction. Her mere presence is enough to make Chloe act extremely out of character in an attempt to make her look better, and as soon as she apologizes while giving a frankly vague backstory, everyone just accepts her as their friend, and I mean everyone in the entire class. I'm sorry, but it just doesn't feel earned. Why was she bullied at her old school? What did her bullies have against her? What caused her to stop going along with her peers, and why did everyone turn against her? How the hell did the bullies who put cockroaches in another student's locker get no punishment while the victim was forced to transfer schools? It's an intentionally unclear backstory designed to make the audience feel sympathetic towards Zoe without actually doing anything else.

I want to ask anyone reading this who watched the episode a question: Outside of her backstory, what do we actually know about Zoe?

What is her personality like? She's nice? Socially awkward? We've never had a character like that in Miraculous Ladybug before! Sorry Marinette, Adrien, Juleka, Nathaniel, Mylene, and Marc, there's a new character with more personality than all of you combined!

What are her goals? She wants to be an actress? Great, but why? Even though there's no clear answer for why Marinette loves fashion, or why Alya loves journalism, or why Nino loves DJing, you can still see the passion in their lives when they do something related to their goals. Zoe only says she wants to be an actress, connecting it to her people pleaser backstory (and given how it ended, she must be a terrible actress), and in the next episode, she immediately gets the lead role in a student film.

When Mylene got the starring role in the movie in “Horrificator”, we at least got snippets of her acting skills in the same episode that established her desire to be an actress, which is also implied to be because she was inspired by her father in “The Mime”. She didn't just say she wanted to be an actress and got the leading role. She still had problems to overcome like her cowardice, which threw her own self-confidence into doubt. Here, Zoe just says she wants to be an actress, and is rewarded for no reason the very next episode.

Zoe basically exists only to be a foil to Chloe, and the writers had no idea what to do in terms of a personality, so they just dumped a bunch of extremely likable character traits onto her without thinking of how her character could come off. And like I said, she's a Mary Sue.

I'm not the only one who thinks this. I've seen a handful of posts on this very site calling Zoe a Mary Sue. In fact, I even asked another Tumblr user @anxresi​ to quote their take on Zoe being a Mary Sue, which I couldn't even top in terms of accuracy. They basically listed off five things that made Zoe a Mary Sue.

She has to have a ‘tragic backstory’ so all the other characters will fall in love with her. Usually within minutes, in the very first episode they’re introduced.

She has to have a supercute design so that the audience at home will fall in love with her. And if they don’t, they’re automatically dismissed as ‘haterz’ even if their objections are purely from a writing POV.

Her only flaw will be thinking too little of herself. “What, lil ol’ me as the Bee Miraculous holder? With my shyness, colorful shoes, chic beret and personalized pink strip in my hair? Gosh, who’d have thought it?”

The contrast to her half-sister will be a constant plot point, with Chloe always getting dumped on. “You see, kids? Bad things happen to bad people. But you see this super-sweet girl over here? She gets a free DAD. Instant FRIENDS. To star in her own MOVIE. The chance to be a SUPERHERO, even though she only arrived last week. Who cares if she has no depth, no personality and barely any reason for being in the show, apart from being a massive ‘Up Yours’ to all the Chloe fans out there?”

What about character development, Mr Generic Zag Guy? “Development? What’s that?! Zoe is already perfect as she is. The only ‘development’ she’ll receive is having her hair done in the first episode she’s introduced. Besides, That‘d’ word is banned here at Zag studios. Why do you think we abandoned Chloe’s stillborn arc so quickly? This is a KIDS show, why bother trying to create a complex character with more than one dimension?”

This is essentially who Zoe is. She's perfect, has no character flaws, has a cute design so the audience will love her already, and was designed only to replace Chloe as Queen Bee. That's all she is.

So the episode ends with Zoe feeling happy at all the new friends she made while we get one of the most blatant attempts of symbolism in the ending card I've ever seen.

See, look. While Marinette is happily talking with Zoe with the image of Ladybug next to them, Chloe is to the far left with an EVIL purple aura, showing how bad she is compared to how great Zoe is. Only a braindead moron would actually like Chloe over the super awesome and pretty Zoe!

I'll give my final thoughts on the episode in the next part where I analyze this plotline as a whole.

LINK TO “QUEEN BANANA” REVIEW

[supercorpkid]

Extraneous Variable 2

Error: n2.

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader, Alex Danvers x Niece!Reader, Brainy x Reader.

Word count: 2520.

“AAAAAAAAAAH!” You yell when you realize, and you look at Kara on the other side rushing to open your lab door to understand why you’re yelling. “DO NOT OPEN THE DOOR!”

You look at the clothes they put next to you on the floor and sigh. They are not going to fit your very big and masculine body. And oh no, you have that between your legs.

“What’s wrong with your voice?” You hear Lena’s voice from the other side and look at Kara lowering her glasses. Oh no. You cover your very strange new body part, without touching it, and it’s Kara’s turn to yell.

“She’s a boy!” Kara screams covering her eyes. “My beautiful, beautiful baby girl is a boy now!”

“AND SHE’S NAKED!” You yell at them.

They all have different expressions. Kara looks terrified, like she just saw someone dying. Alex is laughing so hard next to them. Brainy looks like he’s doing some calculation to see where it all went wrong, and Lena is just shocked.

“Can someone get me some clothes?” You beg, trying not to look down at yourself.

“Go buy her something.” Lena says handing Kara her card. Kara flies away and comes back not long later with some bags.

“I’m going in.” She announces, like she’s going into a war, and you hide yourself behind a chair, like she couldn’t see more if she wanted to. “Oh, Rao. My poor little daughter.”

“Can you just toss me the bags and turn around?” You ask and she does exactly that. You’re into boy’s clothes in no time. “Ok, I’m decent.”

“Ok, ok. No need to freak out. We can reverse this.” Kara says and you look at her. She is clearly freaking out. She must be talking to herself.

“Yeah. Sure hope so.” You go to your lab door and open to everyone on the other side.

“My baby.” Lena touches your face, with tears on her eyes. “Oh no, you have a beard now.”

You touch your face and feel hair on your chin. This is worse than being a baby. Much, much worse.

“No.” You feel tears coming up. You’re the largest, tallest person in the room, and yet you feel so tiny and small and sad! “Mommy.” You turn to Kara. “I have a beard.”

“Oh, my poor sweet girl.” You have to bend yourself to fit into her arms, and it is still weird.

“I should’ve stayed a baby. Why are our lives so weird?” You mumble between your tears and feel Kara’s hand easing up your tense shoulders.

“We’ll figure this out, my love.” She passes her thumb on your forehead, then kisses it. It’s instinct, getting your bangs out of the way, before kissing your forehead. They’ve done it all your life, except now you don’t have bangs. You barely have hair if you’re being honest.

“You know what? You look handsome as a boy.” Aunt Alex jokes and you roll your eyes at her. “What should I call you? What name would you like to have if you were a boy?”

“Well, I would very much like not to be a boy right now!” You wipe your tears but see on her face that she’s trying to ease the mood. So you lean into it, otherwise you might just cry non-stop until you’re back into your old self. “But for now, just call me…” You look around trying to think. “Brainiac 6!”

“That’s funny.” But Brainy doesn’t look amused. “As a matter of fact, there is a Brainiac 6 in the family. I’m not quite sure you would like him.”

“Oooh, family drama!” Alex jokes and you smile.

“Who would think Coluans had such a dramatic background?” You add.

“Everyone?” Brainy misses the sarcasm on your voice, making you and Alex laugh harder.

“Would the three of you stop being funny and transform my babygirl back into a girl?” Lena asks. The three of you lower your heads, feeling embarrassed that Lena had to scold you. You all turn back to the computer and the alien tech in front of you.

“Oh no!” You look at the name on your phone, currently ringing. “It’s my girlfriend! I can’t pick up!” You give your phone to Kara. “Here, you answer!”

“Me?” She holds your phone like it’s a bomb in her hands. “Why me?”

“Because I can’t talk to her with a man’s voice, and if I don’t answer she’ll worry. So just make something up!”

“Then have Lena answer!” She tries to pass the phone to Lena, who ignores it.

“Momma, please!”

“Oh boy.” Kara complains, accepting the call, and slowly putting the phone on her ear, like it’s about to explode. “Oh, hi Maya. It’s, um, it’s Mrs. Danvers! So sorry, she can’t talk right now. No, no, she’s fine. She’s just…” She looks around trying to come up with a lie. “Grounded!” She yells, and you furrow your eyebrows at her. “Yeah, I-I had to ground her, ‘cause she…” Kara is hyperventilating in front of you. “Did something bad. Anyways, I had to take her phone away, so you won’t be able to talk to her for a while? I don’t know how this thing works, but yeah. Ok, have a nice day! Bye!”

“Really? You grounded me?” You take the phone from her hands and put it back in your pocket. “Couldn’t have thought of a more believable lie?”

“It’s believable!” Kara says, getting an eyebrow rise from everyone in the room except Brainy.

“Hardly.” He says, instead. “It’s 10% believable. If you had, however, said that Lena was the one who did the grounding, the lie would’ve been 85% believable.”

“Whatever.” Kara huffs upset, crossing her arms. “I’m so going to ground you someday just to shock everyone.”

“Mhm, honey. Sure you will.” Lena shushes her, and you turn your face to the other side to laugh at her. Kara is such a dork.

You’ve been at it for a while now. Brainy seems to have understood the logic of the alien tech, and then misunderstood it a few times by now. You also don’t have any idea of what was done and how the hell you were turned into a freaking boy.

“I need, um, help.” You whisper to Kara and point to your new private part with your head. She looks down on it with furrowed eyebrows.

“Can’t help with that.” Kara tries to move away from you, and you hold her arm, pulling her back to where you’re standing.

“How do I pee with this thing?” You whisper, terrified someone else might be able to hear you.

“You hold it, aim, and shoot.”

“Are you sure you’re not thinking about a gun?” Kara holds her laugh at that and pulls Lena until she is in front of you.

“Ask your mom, I have to be anywhere, but here.”

“What’s wrong?” Lena asks and you look down on your body. Why does it feel so weird to talk to Lena about that? Maybe you should just google it.

“Besides the fact that I’m a boy now? Nothing. I’m fine. It’s fine.” You walk backwards, cursing Brainy for messing with the alien tech and not being able to bring you back.

It’s late at night when they all decide they are done for the day. You try to protest, spending another day on a boy’s body sounds terrifying, but Alex and Brainy don’t give in and Lena looks scared to touch the tech that wiped her memory. You also think it’s best if Kara doesn’t try anything. So you accept your fate and go home.

“It’s not that bad.” Kara says, lifting your chin up, and you roll your eyes at her. “It could be worse.”

“How? I look like a blonde version of Superboy.”

“Good thing your girlfriend is pansexual!” Kara smiles at you, trying to find the silver line. There is none.

“She’s not going to see me like this! I don’t even want to see myself like this. I have been wanting to go to the bathroom for hours now, and there’s no way I’m going to shower with this whole thing happening down there.”

“Just tuck in and sit.” Lena says coming into the living room and you nearly vomit at the thought.

“Ok, I don’t want to know how you know that.” Kara says and you hold your laughter.

“It makes way more sense than ‘hold, aim and shoot’.”

“What do you think it is? A gun?” Lena asks and you point at her with a victorious smile on your face.

“That’s what I said!”

Lena and her impressive power of reading your mind.

Turns out peeing is not as bad as you thought, at least not now that Lena told you that you don’t have to touch it, and you can sit down while doing so. Still, you don’t shower. That’s next level weird and you’re not ready for it yet.

It’s morning and you’re in the kitchen with your moms and it almost feels like your typical routine. It’s only when you talk and your voice startles them, that you realize none of this is normal. You can’t wait until you’re out of this body.

“Alex said she and Brainy are on their way to L Corp for an early start. Do you mind going there and letting them in your lab?” Kara asks and you stand up right away.

“Are you kidding? Do I mind? I might kiss them when I get there!” You rush to the door, ready to fly away. The good thing about being a boy is that you don’t have to hide your secret identity. This might as well be one.

You open the door and look at Maya on the other side. You see her finger hovering the bell like she was just about to ring it.

Oh no, this can’t be happening! Maya is not supposed to be here! She is not supposed to see you like this! No one is supposed to see you like this.

“Hi.” You try, making your voice sound lower than it already is. Which is damn stupid because she never even heard this voice before.

“Hey! I’m-”

“Maya, yeah, I-I know.” You blink at her while she looks at you very confused. Her eyebrows are pinched together and she’s biting her lower lip. “Oh!” You scratch the back of your head. “I’m-um-I’m, you know it’s a long story. But I’m-”

“She’s my-I mean-he.” Kara looks at you with wide eyes. “He is my nephew! Yeah. Jon Kent.”

“Oh, right. Hi, it’s nice to meet you.” Maya raises her hand, and you grab it, giving the weirdest handshake in history.

“I’m sorry to say that your girlfriend is still pretty much grounded.” Kara says, giving Maya a smug smile. “Because you see, I can ground her too! It’s not just Lena! I’m strong enough to do so and I know it sounds surprising but-”

“You know, I don’t think she is surprised.” You stop her, before she blows this for you. “She grounded her own daughter. How crazy, right!”

“Yeah. Wild.” Maya laughs with you. You see a little tinkle in her eyes and you’re almost sure she can see right through your manly body. “I just stopped by to give her this.” She hands Kara a bag with a smile. “I’ll see her when the grounding is over!”

“Which, by the way, I don’t know when that will be. Because I’m still pretty mad at her.” You look at Kara, looking everything but mad, and you sigh.

“Nice to meet you, Maya!”

“Nice to meet you, Jon.” She narrows her eyes at you. “Jon Kent.”

You feel like the collar on your shirt is suddenly too tight around your neck. You try to breathe, but why is the air of the world suddenly gone?

“See you later, Mrs. Danvers.” Maya shrugs and turns around. You’re almost breathing again when you hear. “Tell my girlfriend I’ll wait for her.”

You and Kara look at each other with wide eyes and mouth agape.

“Will do!” Kara says, waving at Maya. “This can’t get any worse, right?” Kara whispers through her smile while still waving at Maya who is not even looking at both of you anymore.

“Sure it can. Just give yourself a minute.” You pat her back and get inside the house. “Why did you tell her I was Jon? What will happen when the real Jon Kent comes to visit?”

“Well, I don’t know! I’m not good at lying on the spot. Neither are you, by the way! You looked like you were about to combust into flames!”

“Next time, I’ll just ask mom! At least she can lie better.” You point at Lena, who agrees with her head without looking at you.

“Yes, Luthors are great at lying and, the ones who are blessed with, also have great hair.” She smiles looking up and gives you and Kara a few minutes to recover from the burst of laughter. “Can we go now?”

“Only if you tell Alex that joke.” Kara agrees and Lena smiles, much too content with herself.

You get to your lab faster than Kara and Lena, and at the same time Brainy and Alex get there. Brainy thinks he’s got it, so you stay by his side for moral support.

You hear a click on your back, and you look behind you to see aunt Alex with her phone pointed at you.

“Jamie was curious.” She explains and you roll your eyes. “Can you turn to me so I can send one of your face?”

“Are you guys serious right now?” You ask and she shrugs.

“It’s not everyday you get turned into a boy, kiddo!” She jokes and you turn to the camera and give her your best smile. She sends the picture to Jamie and giggles at her phone. “Kelly and Jamie said you’re a catch!”

“Ugh. Go faster Brainy!”

Lucky for you, he indeed knows how to reverse it. Or he looks like he knows. You guess you’ll see. Kara and Lena get there, and you feel confident in trying now.

“Should we leave the room?” Kara asks, and Brainy denies with his head.

“I believe I mastered a way of only affecting the man in the room, so you three can stay and I’ll step outside for a minute. Alex?” He calls and she comes closer. “Just press this when I’m out of the room.”

“Got it.” She gives him two thumbs up, and you watch Brainy making his way out of the room. “Ready, babyboy?”

“Ugh, just go on with it already.” You beg and it doesn’t take her much more to press the button Brainy told her.

The room flashes blue, and you stand in front of a mirror excitedly. You see your image changing from boy to girl and you almost jump in excitement.

“YES! IT WORKED!” You yell, so damn happy you actually jump and squeaky. “Guys! I’m me again!”

You turn around to look at Kara, Lena and Alex.

“AAAAAH!”

“WHAT!”

“What the actual FUCK!”

Notes:

Another funny prompt by @oncemoonie I’m having way too much fun with this series.

[voltage-vixen]

Fandom: Obey Me!

Pairing:  Diavolo x MC (Female)

Prompt: “Dominate me, Daddy.” (NSFW) Warnings: Spanking

“Are you sure this is what you want, MC?” Diavolo purred, the warmth of his breath pouring out onto the nape of her flushed neck. “Are you sure I’m really what you want?”

The human-his human had come bursting in through the door of the student council president’s office wearing nothing long for the slinky black number that clung to her curves in all the right places. Diavolo barely had any time to even admire his partner after flashing his trademark grin since MC glided across the room and swiped the surface of his desk clear before plopping her bottom down onto the solid wood.

Planting her feet onto the desk, MC spread her legs apart, granting the demon an unobstructed view of her dripping sex. The lewd scent of her obvious heat didn’t escape the heightened sense of his smell. His own erection throbbed pressing tightly against the fabric of his pants when he saw the swell of her folds covered in drops of her glistening arousal; a clear indicator that MC had been playing with herself prior to her ambushing Diavolo in his office.  

Was I on her mind when she was touching herself?

A fury of madness consumed him at very image. Enough was enough. He was going to grant MC’s wish and fulfill his own by having his way with her. Though the ruler of the demons was tempted to keep the door ajar so that all could hear the cries of pleasure and there would be no doubt that she was his and his alone, Diavolo decided at the last second to use his powers to slam the door shut. The mere notion of another hearkening in the mewls of his woman’s passion was enough to send him into a monstrous rage of jealousy. Besides, there was nothing for him to prove. Not a soul in all of Devildom would dare question if the pair was sufficient for each other…..at least not unless they wanted to come under and personally face his wrath that is.

“Y-Yes, I’m sure,” MC huffed, breathless and squirming her hips in an impatient fit waiting for the intrusion of Diavolo and all his sweet glory after the teasing touch of fingers grazing her damp skin.

Diavolo flipped her over, causing the bountiful flesh of her chest to be pressed flat against the surface of the desk. He ripped away at the fabric of her dress and his tongue immediately went to exploring the canvas of her naked back. The angular bends of his fingers danced around a lockful of her curls naturally forming a fist around the wisps of disheveled hair. His lips roughly left a wet trail of kisses down the line of her spine, while the pretentious prince’s teeth nipped wildly to ensure territorial vivid marks were visbily ingrained onto her frame.

His tongue lapped at MC until connecting with that one spot that she loved him toying with. Still brisking in the afterglow from a sensitive release prior, her body violently trembled at the sensation of his tongue lapping away at the swell of her clit. He tormented her by tugging at the bud of her skin, switching up his foreplay routine with the occasional lick to push her past the point of no return. Diavolo never was anything less than a generous lover, and that included knowing how to leave his partner a screaming, withering, mess beneath him while she squirted the honey of her nectar for him to taste.  

“Very good girl, MC,” Diavolo groaned, as he withdrew his mouth from the velvet of her glistening folds.

Licking his lips to relish more in her divine taste, Diavolo caught sight of exposed ass on display, virtually inviting him in for another caress.

“Ahh,” MC cried out as the sound of Diavolo’s hand slapping against her ass echoed across the room.

Caught with her guard down, MC was feeling an intense mixture of pain and pleasure while she was leaning over the desk, relishing in every tantalizing moment. Diavolo’s one hand continued to spank her as a digit curled inside her heat eliciting yet another moan of pleasure from MC.

“You’re so wet for your master,” he teased as his finger slipped out from her.

Foreplay was fun but was no longer enough to satisfy the animalistic urges he was undertaking. He wanted to ruin MC to the point where her tight, little cunt was wrapped around him and she was screaming his name. Growling, the pads of his fingers dug deeply into her skin, leaving marks as he latched onto the sides of her hips. The erotic ticking vibrations shook MC’s body as he plunged right into her without any warning, his powerful thrusts making the coils in her lower belly tingle in preparation of her third orgasm. Her walls began to flutter in that familiar way, but it wasn’t enough-she still craved, no needed to feel more of him. She wanted him to submit herself to him completely.  

“Diavolo, take me,” MC urged. “Please, I beg you do whatever you want with me. I’ll be your plaything, I’ll be your anything, just hurry up and dominate me, daddy!”

Her command ignited a flame within the demon. Very rarely was his precious MC ever demanding with him. Often, he wished for her to more selfish in her wishes. Didn’t she understand that he would gift her the world if that were her truest desire?

“Greedy girl. Beg me for it, MC,” Diavolo commanded, deliberately slowing the roll of his hips. While he wanted to indulge her whims, the playful side of him also wanted to hear the melodious sound of her voice begging him. “Plead to your prince if you want me to make you come on my cock.”

The decelerated velocity of his movements in and out of her forced an unhappy and impatient MC to push her ass back into the firmness of his body, desperate for the release only a sensuous fucking by Diavolo could grant.

“Please, my prince,” MC seductively purred. “Please allow your pretty princess to come on your cock. Don’t make me wait another second, daddy!”

She gasped as Diavolo’s cock suddenly glided into the warmth of her pussy, burrowing himself deeper into her with each thrust. The demon immersed in harmonious lusty pants escaping from the woman’s pouted lips as the wetness intensified between her legs with each rocking movement growing fiercer in intensity. He reached out for MC’s hair wrapping the strands around his fist, and giving her head a firm tug backwards. The additional stimulation evoked shattering shockwaves in her core, resulting in blissful pulsates jolting throughout the rest of her veins. MC’s frame quivered as her the clench of her walls eventually released Diavolo, and he disjoined from the satiated woman. His mouth curled into a pleased smirk when he saw the glazed expression in her eyes as he flipped MC over to better see her face.

“Was it as good for you as it was for me, my princess?” Diavolo probed. “Remember, I’m the only one that can pleasure a kittenish woman like you.”

Gently, he swayed MC’s body closer to his and pulled her into an embrace. Leaning down, Diavolo pressed a soft kiss to her temple. He held her even tenderly while she nuzzled into his chest. Pausing her cuddles, MC glance up at her lover, the tip of her chin resting on the build of his taut body.

“Round two, daddy?”

Diavolo’s large palm pressed against the back of MC’s head, while his thumb traced the line of her upper mouth before swooping in to claim her lips as his own.

“Need you even ask, my love?” Diavolo chided as he switched their positions, so that MC was now sitting on his lap while he was planted on the desk. “This time though, I must insist you take charge.”

Giggling, MC wrapped her arms around his neck and grinded her pelvis against the friction of his flaring heat. Aiming to please and express her gratitude for earlier, she joined herself with Diavolo, both crying out in a joyful unison as they ventured into the next round of vigorously reaffirming their adorations for one another.    

[carloswilliamcarlos]

Whodunnit (Charlie Barber x Reader)

Warnings: Smut, PIV sex, infidelity/cheating, alcohol mention

A/N: IT’S TIME FOR CHARLIE PORN. Yes this is essentially just a remix of Lights Out. I have no original ideas but I am horny, take it or leave it. Also Sackler is there too this time.

Words: 2.2k

“It was a dark and stormy night,” the speech begins. And strangely enough, it was. 

As if cued by god herself, a crack of thunder tears through the sky. Lightning illuminates the room just for a moment, strobing everything inside in ghost-white light. The hostess, her hair done up in dramatic curls and lips lined in dark red. The guests in masks and top hats, expressions frozen for an instant. Shadows splash onto red brick, splattered against the walls in grotesque angles. You jump, holding on tighter to Sackler’s sweaty hand. Behind you, a low chuckle. 

You don’t need a flash of light to know whose breath is tickling your neck. 

Charlie. 

Of course he’d find it funny that you leapt into the air when thunder crashed. He always did love seeing you surprised. And he’s surely amused at your body curling closer to this child of a man who could do less to protect you than a puppy. His words, of course. At least, that’s what you imagine. 

You’d locked eyes as you circled up for the story just moments ago. Your pulse still hasn’t slowed. He was gorgeous, all in black from head to toe, with a blood red mask tied around his eyes. His hair was so long, so dark, he towered over you and looked like fear incarnate, so dangerous and so beautiful your skin flushed hot at just the sight and…

...and Sackler looked nice, too.

It’s a scene from a nightmare already, your boyfriend and the married man you fucked in a stairwell last week in the very same room. Locked in at a murder mystery party with your entire theater company. On a dark and rainy night. Until someone solves this goddamn mystery and you can run home and take out every ounce of wet frustration on the man whose hand you’re gripping so tight now your nails are leaving marks.

“Hey,” he whispers at you, shaking your grip off. 

“Sorry,” you mumble, slipping your fingers out through the gaps and wiping your palm on your vintage slip.

“Who murdered Madame Millicent? The answer sets you free. The clues are all around you… I suggest you look closely,” the hostess stage-whispers with a flourish. She takes her role very seriously. 

“I think we should split up,” you tell Sackler without as much as a glance his way. You’re acutely aware of how slowly Charlie’s moving behind you. 

“What?” Sackler pouts. “I don’t know any of these people.”

“You don’t have to know them, you just have to find clues,” you retort, words rushed. 

“But I came here to be with you.” Sackler’s hands snake around your waist and he bends down to your height as you cast a glance over your shoulder. “I wanna do bad things to you in the dark,” he mumbles against your skin. And it’s right at that moment you and Charlie lock eyes again. 

You push Sackler’s hands off you. It takes a few swats and shoves just to peel them away.

“You will,” you tell him, swiveling your head back around to look him in the eyes. “I promise, you will, just… Come find me. In a little while. Come find me in the dark and you can do whatever you want.”

You manage a little smile then, and Sackler seems more than titillated. He presses a kiss to your cheek, and you take in the smell of him, all warm spice and cinnamon and just a little too much cologne. With a final squeeze of your waist, he steps away, walking backward into the darkness with a cheeky grin and tripping over the edge of the coffee table on the way.

Charlie’s nowhere to be seen. 

Everything’s hushed now, almost silent. Only the “Spooky Halloween Ambiance” playlist carries through the speakers and winds around the room. You might have been spooked if you hadn’t helped the hostess find it on Spotify earlier this morning. 

Pairs of figures move around in near darkness, looking for answers. There’s only candlelight now, and not much of it. You only hope these clues don’t involve much reading.

Another crack of lightning gets you moving, taking step by cautious step from room to room, looking for anything that will get you out. You pass the kitchen, stocked with cocktail glasses and extra swirls of orange peels. The bathroom, where a group of girls is deciphering a lipstick message on the mirror. 

And then there’s the library. 

You’re sure there must be something in here you need. 

You step into the room and lock the door behind you, not wanting to give away any solves you find. It’s so, so dark, you can hardly make out the edge of the wooden bookshelf as you graze it with your fingers. Slowly, you make your way along the shelf, skimming over book by book, looking for anything of interest. There are no sounds but your own shaky breath and your pulse rushing in your ears. And then you feel it. 

A large frame pressing up against your back, just close enough so you know it’s there. It’s warm, it’s solid, it seems to wrap all the way around you. And then a hand, ghosting over your hip, traveling inch by daring inch to rest in the center of your rib cage. 

“Adam?” you whisper. It’s Adam, you’re sure. It’s Adam, your boyfriend that you love. That’s what you tell yourself as his scent surrounds you. The scent of cool peppermint, and parchment, and the plastered walls of a certain familiar stairwell. 

He doesn’t answer. Not even a nod. But your fingers come to rest over his anyway, and your back pushes against his chest anyway, and you tilt your head so slightly to the side anyway, so he can bite your pretty earlobe just. like. that. 

You tug his hand up over your breast, squeeze his broad grip around it and sigh when his thumb grazes over your nipple, poking out through the shiny fabric of your slip. He swipes over it again, and then again, until it’s hard and straining and you’re rolling your hips back into his groin.

He kisses your neck, at first just a tingling tease, and then a hard, deep, suck that makes your whole body throb. His left hand reaches around to rest on the bookshelf in front of you. You can just make out the shadows of the veins that run down his long, thick fingers, over his wrist, and up under the fabric of his sleeve. 

Now it’s his turn to guide your right hand, still clutching your breast, down along your own side, over the sultry swell of your hip, behind your back and between your bodies. He leads your hand between his legs and along the thick, hard, hungry length the waits there, tenting the fabric of his trousers and twitching at your touch. His breath brushes your ear as you run your hand back and forth, teasing the tip and trailing all the way down the length. He lets out a breathy, shaky, drawn out “yes,” so quiet you can only hear it because his lips are pressed right up against your ear. 

It sounds… enough like Sackler, you tell yourself again, and even in the confines of your own mind, you know you’re a dirty fucking liar. 

The figure steps back just a bit then, pushing you forward so you’re bent at the waist and pressed up against the shelf. You hear a zip and feel the sudden chill of air on your ass as he flips your skirt up and over it. 

The velvety length of his cock slides between your legs and along your panties, giving your aching cunt just enough friction. It moves back and forth and back and forth again, and your hips are canting in time, rolling with it to wring out every drop of pleasure you can. His warm hand runs up the length of your back and down again, squeezing the curve of your ass and digging his fingertips into it. 

It’s just then you hear a fit of squeals erupt in the next room over, and both of you freeze. The girls must have solved the lipstick riddle. You may not have much more time. 

So you rock yourself back against him again, willing him not to stop, to keep going, to give you what you need, right fucking now. 

And he does. 

A nimble finger pulls your panties to the side and his tip is pressing into you, sliding between your wet, swollen lips and stretching open your tight entrance. You can’t help letting out a whine, you just can’t, and thank god his hand flies up to clamp over your mouth. If only you could do the same as he pushes into you, buries himself deep inside in one long, slow, thrust, because he’s grunting louder than he should be and he’s spitting out a pleasure-heavy “fuck” and that’s not Sackler, you know it now for sure, and you don’t fucking care. 

His hips pull back and push forward again, harder this time. Your knees shake and you rest your ass against his weight, letting the entire length slide way, way up inside you and back out again, in a rhythm that’s all at once frenzied, and fluid, and fucking filthy. 

You’re letting out little squeaks, little moany puffs of air every time he thrusts into you. You can hardly catch your breath, and the hand over your mouth isn’t making it any easier. His left hand against the bookshelf drops down around the front of you and between your legs, resting against your clit so it presses into it with every forward thrust. You’re surrounded by him, by the way he makes your body writhe, by the sound of his own breaths through gritted teeth. You fall back against him further and further, until he’s almost entirely supporting you, canting you upward will every jolt of his hips, and you start to come all the way undone.

In one move he throws you both forward so you’re pressed flat up against the shelf, your cheek resting on the cold, smooth wood and your breasts rubbing against volumes of Chaucer and Poe and Keats. He moves the hand on your clit in circles then, buries his face in your neck, and fucks you hard and fast and furious until you’re cumming all around his cock and it’s throbbing in gratitude, pumping his sticky white seed so far inside you, you swear you can taste it. 

And then he’s out. 

He’s out, and he’s pulling your panties back over your pussy to catch whatever threatens to spill out. There’s another zip, and your skirt falls back down, and the sweat dripping down your back suddenly feels so cold. 

Your breaths both slow down. And you don’t touch. And you don’t speak. And you’ve never been more grateful for the darkness that hides expressions neither of you want to see. 

You walk to the door and rest your fingertips on the handle. 

“Thank you, Adam,” you mutter, hating yourself as you do. It’s met only with a bitter scoff, and you open the door and slither out, your legs still shaking. 

Adam’s in the living room with a couple of guys who look to be taking shots out of a teacup. He gives you a big smile when he sees you and waves you over. 

“Where were you? I couldn’t find you,” he asks as he pulls you in by your hip. You turn your face sideways to dodge his kiss, which lands on your cheek. 

“Guess it’s just a mystery.”

Adam’s all goofy smiles when everyone reconvenes in the living room. It didn’t take him long to make new friends. The volume picks up in the gathering crowd and the hostess makes her way back to the front for her big finale. 

“A crime did happen on this night, but will you guess the culprit right? Let us see if you found the clues, tell us, who do you accuse?” 

She shines a flashlight into your eyes and you squint against the yellow light. “What?”

The hostess drops the act, just for a moment. “Who do you think did it?” she urges you, and it wasn’t until now you remembered why you were all even here. 

Through the light, you can see Charlie standing at the corner of the room, his gaze cast down to the floor. He looks up through his lashes at you, a pout painting his face. 

“It was you,” you say. 

The crowd shuffles a bit as they look back to him, and he reaches in his suit jacket to pull out a little red card printed with a single word: MURDERER. He flicks it to the floor and glares your way. 

“Guilty.”

Hands clap on your shoulders and Sackler shakes you happily. Everyone’s cheering. The party’s over. But you can’t hear a thing. 

Amid the bustling crowd you lose Charlie for a second, and like a ghost, he’s gone. 

The only proof he was ever there is the lingering smell of peppermint, and the creamy white sin dripping down your thigh.  

__________

Don’t mind me, just tagging some Charlie loving pals hiiiiiiii

@direnightshade @contesa-lui-alucard @babbushka @sacklerscumrag @ohdamnadam @cowboy-kylo​

[pearlcaddy]

20 for the kiss prompt, if you vibe with it. For whichever jukebox you prefer

Also requested by @thatsmyverb

20: Kissing in a stairwell, giving them an artificial height difference. (Wizarding World of Food Service verse)

I decided that the Wizarding World!Jukebox deserved a slightly less gross kiss.

Now on AO3!

“Ooh, taking time off?”

Appearing seemingly out of nowhere, Julie rests her chin on Luke’s shoulder as he uses one of the employee computer stations.

“Yeah, I’m feeling fancy.” He absently presses a kiss to her temple without taking his eyes off the screen.

As he selects a list of dates on the TO request form, she stills on his shoulder. “Oh wow, that’s a lot of time off. A whole week without pouring Butterbeer? You’ll get a big head.”

She’s clearly trying for it to come out as a quip, but her delivery is slightly stilted. And when he glances over at her, he finds tension in her jaw and confusion in her eyes.

“Did I not tell about this?” he asks.

“You don’t have to tell me every time you take a week off of work. I’ll be okay.” Again, trying for a sass that doesn’t feel authentic. He grabs her hand and spins her in place, bringing her to rest tucked under his arm.

“Big Sur. My parents and I go camping every year.” He nudges her hip with his. “And I’m going to miss you.”

“You don’t need to reassure me. I’m fine. I just didn’t know,” she replies, not sounded convinced by her own words.

They fall silent as he fills in the final lines of the form. Desperately aiming for casual, he hums out, “You could come if you want.” He doesn’t look at her face, so he fills her silent pause with the worst case scenario. “I mean, not…” He giggles nervously. Ugh. So much for casual. “Doesn’t have to be this year. I know it’s last minute and three months is maybe a bit early for… spending a week with my parents, but next year. Just if you want. No pressure.”

He hits the submit button and quickly logs out. Since she still hasn’t said anything, he tries to quickly bounce over to the escalator that leads to the employee exit, because nothing says casual like bouncing.

It’s fine. He doesn’t even care. This isn’t important to him at all…

He’s barely boarded the escalator before he hears her rushing after him. “Luke!”

He turns around to find her two steps above him, towering over him in a way she normally never does. Her grin is shy and fond.

“You really want me to?”

“Sorry, have I been playing it cool?”

She chuckles. “Never. I just… I know abstractly that you’re…”

“Hella serious about this,” he supplies.

“… but family vacations are very concrete.”

“Well, I’m concrete.” That means nothing. Why the fuck did he say that?

She beams and slides her hands down the handrails, leaning over at what feels like a dangerous angle to get her face closer his. “I don’t have enough vacation days yet, but next year?”

He’s not sure what’s a reasonable amount of smiling to be doing over this, but he’s definitely exceeding it. “Next year.”

She scrunches her nose up at him and bends her mouth down to his, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. One of her hands comes off the handrail to cup his face, and he opens his mouth to—

—fall backwards when the escalator reaches the bottom and kicks him off of his step. Julie, too bent over to stop herself in time, falls squarely on top of him, forcing all the air out of his lungs.

“Crap, did I hurt you!?” she asks.

Yes. So very much. But once he’s got enough of his breath back, he huffs out an embarrassed laugh. “Do you want to know what I thought as soon as I started to fall?”

“What?”

“It’s embarrassing. I’m warning you.”

“Tell me!”

“Arresto Momentum.”

She buries her head into his chest in a fit of giggles. “I love you, you massive dork.”

[yootaesowlwrites]

Cabin - Jung Hoseok

Requested by: No one.

Request: -

Prompts: B73— “I could watch you ride me all day.” // B77— “If you don’t like my teasing, then why are you moaning?” // B84— “Say my name,” “Louder,”

A/N: Just a little something for Hoseok’s birthday, It’s not much, but I still wanted to do something for his birthday, but also not just for him, but for all his fans and people that adore him *Glancing at my friend* because I’m aware that there really aren’t a lot of imagines out there, so here is at least one more for him.

Warnings: Fluff, Smut, Established relationship, Dom!(Y/n)?, Sub!Hoseok?, (Y/n) takes the lead and dominates Hoseok, Explicit language, detailed sex scene, teasing, begging, fingering, clit stimulation, oral (female receiving), slight hair pulling, handjob, unprotected sex (use protection), releasing inside her, aftercare.

Age Warning: I can’t stop anyone from any age reading this, but I’ll put the warning down anyway, please do not interact or read if you’re under the age of 18.

W/C: 5 236.

Tags: @taichoushadow​

It was late in the afternoon and the sun was just starting to go down when Hoseok stepped into the cabin with [Y/n] not far behind, she moves around him after pulling the door shut and begins removing her gloves.

It was their four-year anniversary, and they had rented out a cabin away from their busy lives to take a moment to appreciate each other in silence, it was the silent moments with each other that always made everything worth it, and by silent moments, she meant the moment away from everything and everyone, and it would just be them in each other’s presence, nothing and nobody there to interrupt them during any type of moment, soft and sweet moments, or hot and sexy moments.

“How long do you think our snowman will survive?” Hoseok asks as he glances out the window, they had built a snowman for the majority of the day and they only just managed to finish it, she looks out the window and stares at it for a moment before lifting her shoulders in a shrugging motion.

“Maybe a few days, or weeks.” [Y/n] says while moving her gaze onto him, he looks away from the window and turns to look at her, his thick dark brown hair, that almost appeared to be black most of the time, fell over his warm dark eyes, his plump lips had a smile on them.

“With how the sun is beating down, maybe just a few days.” He says while removing his gloves, he places them near the heater to allow them to dry, she places her gloves next to his, a smile on her lips.

“You never know, it could get colder during the night, it does feel a little chilly right now.” She says, he moves closer to her making her step back until her back hits the wall, Hoseok lean closer and placed his hand against the wall just next to her head.

“Then we should produce some more heat into this cabin before nightfall.” He says, she slightly lifts her head to meet his eyes, she could see them visibly darken as they became clouded with lust, her eyes slowly moves away from his and lower, over his lips, his neck before falling onto the black clothing that seemed to fit him so perfectly. “I asked a question.” Her eyes flicker back to his.

“It didn’t sound like a question to me.” She says as she lifts her hands, her fingers curl around the fabric of his coat before pushing him slightly backwards and turn them around. “I would gladly answer you if you had asked, but it didn’t sound like one.” She backs him up against the wall, and leans closer to him, slightly moving to stand on the balls of her feet, the thick soles on hers shoes making her almost the same height as him, but even without shoes, she was almost as tall as he was.

As much as he loved to be in control, he became weak when she took charge and led them, she knew what she wanted, and she always got what she wanted from him, from ordering him around to making him lay back on the bed and keep his hands to himself, which was a challenge when the only thing he wanted to do was touch her, she, however, would never tie him, just swat his hands away with a playful smirk on her lips, but if he ever didn’t listen to her, she would definitely tie his hands to keep him from misbehaving.

She presses her lips against his, her eyes falling shut along with his, her tongue runs along his bottom lip before his lips part, she takes his bottom lip between her lips, lightly nibbling on it before tugging on it and releasing it, she opens her eyes to look at him and found that his eyes were still closed, one hand releases his jacket and moves up to his face, her fingers gently trace over his cheek before moving over his lips, his eyes open to stare at her with half-lidded eyes, her eyes following what her hand was doing for a moment, her hand falls away from his face and back to his jacket, gripping it tightly before pushing it off his shoulders, stopping when it reached his elbows, she pulls him closer to her and meets his eyes.

“I’m in charge tonight.” She says before pulling him away from the wall using his jacket. “And you’re going to be begging for me, begging for me to ride you.” He could feel his cock twitch, and it hardens, the thought of her dominating him excited him. “You’re going to be a begging mess for me, asking for me, begging me if you could touch me.” She pulls his jacket down completely and tosses it aside, she takes hold of his hand and turns towards the hallway that led to the bedroom, they enter the bedroom, the curtains were pulled open and had a beautiful view of the sunset, she turns to him as she releases his hand, she moved her hand to the zip on her jacket and undoes it.

“Aren’t you going to help undress me?” She asks in a soft innocent tone, he reaches out and takes hold of her jacket, gently pulling it down her arms before releasing it to fall to the floor, his hands move to the hem of her long-sleeved shirt and begins lifting it upwards, he could feel the heat radiating from her body onto his hands, his knuckles so close to touching her skin as he removes the shirt, he drops it to the floor as well, and she turns around, her back facing him. “Don’t forget my bra.” His hands move towards the clasp, he unclasps it and reaches for the straps, pulling them down her shoulders and down her arms. “Okay, that’s enough for now.” The bra dropped to the floor, and she could feel her nipples harden from the cold.

She turns around to face him and steps closer to him, her hands move to the hem of his shift and lifted it upwards, making sure that her knuckles were brushing along his skin, feeling his toned stomach, he lifts his arms and allows her to remove his shirt, it falls the floor and her eyes move down to his toned body, her fingers slowly move over his skin, feeling his warmth underneath her touch, she takes her bottom lip between her teeth while moving her hands lower and lower before stopping at his jeans, she could feel herself growing wet at the idea of teasing him, making him beg, beg for her.

“Actually… go sit on the bed.” She orders him as she steps away from him, he swallows but moves towards the bed and took a seat at the edge of it. “Remove your shoes and socks, they're only going to make the bed dirty.” As if the bed wasn’t going to be dirty at the end of the night, he bends over and unlaces his shoes, pulling them off before taking his socks off, she watches as he basically tosses them aside before sitting upright to watch her, she bends over and unlaces her shoes, making sure to give him a view of her breasts as she does, she steps out of them before removing her socks.

“[Y/n].” Hoseok whispers, feeling his cock press against the fabric of his underwear and jeans, it wanted to be freed and stand tall and proud in front of her, he shifts on the bed, trying to find a comfortable position, his eyes never leaving her as she teased him, she stands upright, making sure to face him.

“Already begging for me or are you moaning?” She asks while bringing her hands up to her neck, slightly tilting her head to the side, she slowly caresses her neck before sliding her hands down to her chest, making sure to cup her tits. “Oh, mh, Hobi…” Hoseok placed his hands on the bed, gripping the edge of it as he heard her moaning his name, she gently squeezes her tits, parting her lips as she did. “Hm, that feels so good, Hobi… oh.” Her eyes fall on him, watching him as he leans forward, her thumb moves over her hardened nipple, playing with it. “Oh, oh, Hoseok…” Her voice as soft like silk as she moans out his name, he takes his bottom lip between his teeth as he could do nothing but sit and stare. “Oh, how I wish it was your hands touching me instead.” She could see his eyes flickering up to her face, he could see the teasing smirk on her lips, almost daring him to move, but he knew better, he needed to wait, she wanted him to be a begging mess before she would even allow him to touch her. “Are you liking the view infant of you, Hobi?” He could hear the teasing tone as she spoke.

“I love it, absolutely love it, I’m so in love with the view in front of me.” He says, trying to keep his voice even, but she could hear the strain in it, she knew what kind of an effect she had on him. “Please let me worship the view, please.” Her hands release her tits and slowly moves over her belly, stroking her sides before her fingers hooked the band of her pants.

“Are you becoming impatient?” She asks as she slowly pushes her pants down, his eyes fall towards her pants and watches as it moves lower and lower, revealing not enough, yet just enough for his mind to wander and his cock to harden.

“No.” He whispers as he shifts on the bed, his hard cock becoming uncomfortable in his pants. “No, no, I’m not.” Her pants move lower and lower, she bends over as she removes it, stepping out from them and moving them aside. “Fuck… [Y/n].” The only thing blocking his view from seeing her pussy were the panties that were still covering her, she stands upright and lifts her arm, extending it out towards him before making a ‘come here’ motion with her finger, he quickly obeys and scrambles to his feet and approaches her.

“Get on your knees.” [Y/n] demands once he was in front of her, he sinks down to his knees in front of her and looks up at her, ready to listen to each and every order she would give him. “I want you to use your teeth when you take them off.” He nods his head and leans closer, his eyes moving to the fabric that was covering her soaking pussy, he plants a soft kiss on her abdominal and hips before moving his lips to the fabric, his teeth lightly scrape over her skin as he takes the fabric between his teeth, she could feel his nose brushing against her mound, causing a shiver of excitement to run up her spine, he glances up at her before lowering down, pulling her panties down as he does, she steps out of them once she felt them around her ankles and was past him, he releases her panties and turns around to watch her, watch her every movement. “Come on, don’t just wait there on your knees.”

She sits down at the edge of the bed and slightly spreads her legs, giving him a small preview of what was waiting for him, he knew better than to get to his feet, instead, he lowered down to his hands and crawled towards her, his eyes moving between her legs and catching a glimpse of how soaked she was, one of her hands were caressing her tit while the other one was on the bed, he stops in front of her and looks up at her face, his eyes meeting hers as she stared down at him, she spreads her legs as she leans forward.

‘Touch me, Hob.” It sounded like a moan when she spoke, he sits up on his knees and placed a hand on her knee, sliding it wards her glistering heat. “Start with one, I’ll tell you when I’m ready for another one.” His fingers ghostly brush over her outer lips, stroking up and down before slipping a finger between them, gliding his finger along her inner lips, stroking up and down along her wet heat, collecting her wetness onto his finger, she spreads her legs wider, allowing him more space to work with before laying back on the bed.

His finger circles around her clit causing pleasure to run through her veins, it almost felt like fire was coursing through her when he brushed his finger over her clit, circling the sensitive nub and moving his finger back and forth, from side to side, his finger slides down to her entrance and circles it before dipping the tip of his finger into her soaking entrance, her lips part as she felt him turn and twist his finger as he slides it deeper into her sopping hole, his continues to twist and turn his finger inside her as he slips it in and out of her.

“Oh… oh.” She breathes out as she felt his finger almost reaching the most sensitive spot inside her. “Add another, a second one.” She felt his finger slip out before slipping back inside, but this time with a second finger joining. “Oh, Hobi, mh.” He curls his fingers inside her, brushing them against her walls. “Mhm.” The room became warmer as she seconds passed, her chest rose up and down with each breath she took when she felt his fingers move inside her. “Another one.” She felt a third finger enter her, stretching her walls. “Fuck.” He glances down to his hardening member, seeing the tent it had formed in his jeans, he could only hope that he could get rid of them soon, he looks up at her, slightly moving higher to watch her expression, the blissful expression that covered her facial features as he fingered her, her high was slowly building, a tightening feeling forming in her lower abdomen, her fingers toyed with her nipple while her other hand lightly gripped the bedsheets.

“Taste them, tase your fingers.” His movements halt inside her before pulling his fingers from her, was she teasing herself or was she teasing him? He had felt her walls clench around his fingers, and if she had done it purposely, he wouldn’t know, she props her body up onto her elbows to watch him, he brings his hand to his mouth and wraps his plush lips around his fingers, meeting her eyes as he does. “Do I taste good?” He slowly slips his fingers from his mouth, swirling his tongue around them to clean them, they leave his mouth with a light ‘pop’ “Well?”

“You taste delicious, as always.” He says, she could see his lips glistening from her wetness, his tongue darts out and slides across his lips, collecting the bit that was left behind on his lips, she licks her lips as she watches him.

“Then suck on my clit, dear.” She demands, he moves closer to her, and she lifts her legs and placed them over his shoulders, she could feel his breath against her soaking heat as his lips inched closer and closer, using his hand to spread her folds, his lips connect with her sensitive clit, placing a kiss on it before his tongue darts out and flicks over the nub, her hand moves to his hair, threading her fingers through them. “Oh fuck, Hobi, fuck.” His tongue swirls around the sensitive nub, feeling it twitch every few seconds, she could feel the familiar tightening feeling in her lower abdomen returning and building, his lips wrap around the nub. “HOBI!” Pleasure courses through her veins and stars started to appear in front of her at the pleasurable sensation.

Her abdomen muscles contracted as she felt him starting to suck on the nub, her lips part and her head fall back, her heels dig into his shoulder blades as her toes curl in pleasure, gasping each time she felt his tongue flick over the nub, the grip she had on his hair tightens as the pleasure increased, her mind fell blank as bliss completely washed over her, she was close, so damn close to her high, her other hand gripped the sheets, pulling at it.

“Fu— OH!” She moans out, she felt his fingers stroking her folds as he sucked on her clit. “Hoseok, Oh, OH.” She could feel her body starting to shake with pleasure, her eyelids fall close and a sudden burst of pleasure explodes inside her, her toes uncurl with pleasure as she loudly moans his name. “HOSEOK, OH, HOBI!” She releases his hair as she collapsed back onto the bed, his tongue circles around his nub as he eases her through her high, his lips disappear from her clit, and she slowly opens her eyes while taking in a deep breath. “Fuck.” She sits upright to look at him and saw his lips, nose and chin glistening with her wetness, he brings his hand to his face and cleans his mouth. “Get rid of your jeans.”

He quickly stood from the floor and undoes his belt and jeans, carefully taking them off along with his underwear, he steps out of them and stood up straight to look at her, waiting for her next order, his cock slaps against his abdomen as it gets released from its hold, her eyes move down to his cock, seeing it standing tall and proud, clear liquid leaking from the slit on the head, she pats the mattress as her eyes slowly move up his torso and to his face.

“Come, lay down on the bed, get comfortable.” She says, he moves closer to the end and moves past her as he climbs onto the bed, he lays down in the middle of it, pushing some of the pillows away and pulling one to rest underneath his head, she turns around and moves onto the bed, extending her legs next to his torso as she watches him, she placed her hand on his thigh and gently massages the spot. “Are you going to be good for me, Hobi?”

“Yes, yes, I’ll be good for you.” He says, she could hear it in his tone, he already sounded like he was begging for her to touch him, he moves his hands towards her legs, caressing her calves.

“I thought you said that you’re going to be for me.” She says as she felt his hand sliding over her leg. “Yet, here you are, being bad and touching me when you know you’re not allowed to touch any part of me.” His hand moves away from her and instead gripped the sheets between his fingers, her hand moves up his thigh and towards his erect cock, her hand wraps around his length and slides up to the head of his cock, her thumb slides over the tip of his cock, collecting the clear liquid onto her thumb and spreads it around the tip of his cock.

“Mhm.” He whimpers as he feels her touch, feeling her teasing the head of his cock, her hand moves down his length to the base of his cock before moving back up to the tip, spreading the clear liquid over his length, she releases his cock and straddles his thigh, using her knee to spread his legs and keep them spread, her soaking pussy inches away from his thigh. “[Y/n].” Her name falling from his lips in a whimper, her hand once again wraps around his length, his hand moves to touch her thigh, causing her to swat at his hand.

“Do not touch, or you’ll wait longer.” She says, he lets out a groan and grabs the sheets, pulling at it in almost frustration, her other hand moves to his balls and gently caresses them.

“O— mhm.” He whimpers as her hand comes in contact with his sensitive balls, just hearing him whimper turned her on even more, causing her to become wetter to the point where her wetness slid down her thigh and onto his. “[Y/n].” Her hand gently massages his balls while her other hand continued to move up and down his length, feeling the veins on his cock underneath her touch, feeling every inch of him, he pushes his head into the pillow as his jaw slacks and his lips part, her thumb circles the slit on his head, teasing him. “[Y/n]… please, baby.” His voice begging her to do more, she unwraps her hand from his length and moves it between her legs, his eyes snap open, and he lifts his head to see what had happened to her hand, he sees her rubbing herself with her hand, coating it with her wetness. “Oh… fuck.” She takes her bottom lip between her teeth as she strokes herself, collecting her wetness to spread over his cock, and he knew that was what she was planning on doing.

“I’m so soaking wet for you, Hobi, fuck, I can’t believe you made me this wet.” She says. “Oh, I can feel the mess that I’ve made on your thigh.” He presses his head into the pillow, feeling how her wetness slides over his thigh.

“Fuck…” He mutters. “Please.” He lifts his head to look at her. “Please.” He desperately wanted to touch her, she pulls her hand away from her soaking pussy and wraps it around his length, his eyelids fall shut at the warm wet feeling around his length, the way her hand clamped down around him. “Fuck.”

“Please, what?” She asks as she slides her hand up and down his length, coating him with her wetness as she does. “Use your words, Hobi.”

“Let me touch you, please.” He pleads, he wanted to feel her skin underneath his touch, even if he could just hold her thigh or her hand, he needed to touch some part of her, his hand releases the sheets, hoping that she would allow him to caress her, any part of her.

“No.” Her answer was short. “Not yet.” And he should have expected that answer, he shouldn’t have hoped for her to say yes.

“Then please, please stop teasing me so much, please, baby, do something, I want to feel you wrapped around me, fuck.” He was so desperate to have her on top of him, to be inside her and feel her walls pulse around him, his voice was barely above a whisper as he begged, pleaded. “OH!”

“If you don’t like my teasing, then why are you moaning, Hobi?” She asks before gently squeezing his balls, he bends his legs at the pleasure running through them, his thigh rubs against her soaking heat. “Oh.” She stops her hand movements. “So needy for me.” She unwraps her hand from his length and releases his balls. “So damn needy.” She straddles his hips, sitting on her knees, hovering just above his length, she could feel the head of cock just poking her below her clit, she placed one hand on his chest while her other hand disappeared between them, she takes hold of his length and moves him between her folds, coating him even more with her wetness.

“[Y/n], please.” His tone sounded so desperate, he wanted to thrust upwards but knew he had to be patient to avoid injuring himself and killing the mood. “Ride me, please, ride me, baby.” She moves the head of his cock to her entrance and slips the head inside her. “Oh.” His hand falls down to the bed as she slowly lowers down onto his length, the feeling of him filling and stretching her caused her lips to part, she tilts her head back, he uses that chance to touch her, placing a hand on her hip, she releases his cock and swats at his hand and lifts her head to look at him.

“No touching.” She says, his hand releases her hip and falls to the bed, she could see the frustration and desperation in his eyes, she sinks down on him completely, taking all of him inside her. ‘You keep saying that you’re going to be good for me, and then you keep breaking the rules, baby.” she placed her other hand on his torso as well and lifts herself from his length, feeling him brush along her walls as he slowly started to slip out of her, she stops once only the head remained inside her before lowering back down onto him.

The sound of her wetness as she lifted and lowered her hips filled the room, her hands on his chest as she stared down at him while riding him, her pace quickening as the second's pass, his hands pulled at the sheets, keeping himself from touching her.

“Was this your plan all along for today?” she asks. “To get me all cold outside so you can heat me up like this?” the sound of their breathy moans joined in with the sound of her wetness, a barely noticeable layer of sweat coated her skin while a noticeable layer coated his. “How did that plan work out for you?”

“[Y/n]!” He moans out as he feels her walls beginning to clench around his length, she was even teasing him while riding him. “[Y/n], Oh, oh, mhm.” His eyes fell onto her tits as they bounced up and down while she rode him.

“That’s it, say my name, Hobi.” She breathes out.

“[Y/n]!” He moans out feeling pleasure running through him.

“Louder.” She demands. “I want to hear how much pleasure I’m causing you.” the sun outside lowered down enough to enter the bedroom, filling the room with its last golden rays for the day, it moves over the bed, shining down on them as she rides him, lighting their skin with the golden light, Hoseok caught sight of it, of her skin underneath the golden rays.

“[Y/N]!” A loud moan escapes from his lips as her walls pulse around him. “PLEASE, [Y/N]!” A satisfied smirk covers her lips, she reaches for his hands and places one hand on her breast and moves his other hand between her legs. “I could… fuck.” His voice raspy as he spoke. “I could watch you… ride me all day.” His fingers clamp down on her clit as soon as she released them, his other hand playing with her swollen nipple.

“Oh… FUCK, FUCK, HOSEOK!” She moans as she feels him toy with her sensitive nub and her nipple, he rolls the nub between his fingers causing more pleasure to run through her, she could feel a tightening feeling building in her lower abdomen again, this time faster than before, she placed her hands back onto his chest, allowing him to do what he pleases with her nipple and clit. “HOBI!”

“[Y/N]!” The pleasure was building up between them, he could feel his cock twitching as he neared his orgasm, his stomach muscles twitching as her walls clench around him, milking him for an orgasm, he bucks his hips, thrusting upwards, his eyes fall shut with pleasure.

“HOSEOK!” She moans as she feels his cock hitting the most sensitive spot inside her, and with the way his fingers rolled her clit between them sent her over the edge faster than she expected, her mind became blank with pleasure as her body shakes, her eyes squeezed shut as her pace slowed down, slowly riding out her orgasm, the feeling her releasing around his cock and the way her warm walls clamped down around him caused his mind to fall into a euphoric state as he releases inside her, coating her walls with his load, she comes to a complete half on top of him, her sense slowly returning to her, she could feel his fingers still toying with her clit and nipple. ‘Do you want a third orgasm out of me?” She took hold o this hand on her tit and pulled it away.

“I love it when you release around me, so yes.” He says as he continues to rub her clit, she takes his hand between her legs and pulls it away, interlacing their fingers, she leans over and closer to him, her chest presses up against his, she stops inches away from his lips.

“Maybe later you can have that wish.” She whispers. “But not right now, I think that’s enough or right now before it starts to hurt.” Her lips brush over his soft ones, kissing him passionately, she pulls away from the kiss and lays her forehead against his and stares into his warm brown eyes, they were the kind of warm brown that could melt anything. “I’m going to take a bath, do you want to join me?”

“When have I ever said no to taking a bath with you?” He asks, she smiles at him and pecks his lips before lifting her hips, his cock that was slowly growing limp slips out of her, and she climbs off of him, she moves to the edge of the bed, ready to get up and go to the bathroom when she felt how shaky her legs were. “Was it that good, beautiful?” He stood from the bed and felt that his own legs felt like jelly. “Here, let me help you to the bathroom.” He helps her to her feet and guides her towards the bathroom. “Use the toilet while I start filling the tub for us, okay?” She nods her head, and he carefully lets her go, her shaky legs carry her to the toilet while Hoseok starts to fill the tub. “I just want to say, you looked so beautiful in the sunset.” He looks at her just as she closes the lid of the toilet and flushes it.

“Oh, I did?” she asks. “I didn’t even notice it lighting the room.” She walks towards him, starting to feel the cold winter air entering the bathroom and surrounding them.

“You looked absolutely breathtaking in that light, especially while you were enjoying the bliss of the moment.” He says and helps her climb into the tub, the warm water envelops her as she lowers down into it, he climbs into the tub with her and positions himself behind her. “How are you feeling?” The tub continues to fill as he begins to check on her, wanting to know if she was all right after the intimate moment between them.

“I’m good.” She says and looks over her shoulder at him. “I’m feeling good, and you?” He leans closer to her and gently places a kiss on her shoulder blade.

“I’m feeling good also.” He says, he closes the water and wraps his arms around her, he pulls her against him as he leans back against the tub. “How did you feel during it, any discomfort?”

“No, no discomfort, and you, did you feel any discomfort?” She asks.

“No, it was perfect.” He says. “Unless you have any complaints.” A soft smile tugs at the corner of her lips.

“No, no complaints.” She says before her smile fades a little. “But, uh, do you think they would keep any extra sheets in the cabin?”

[bopbopstyles]

3. More Than a Song

SERIES RATING: M (sex)

CHAPTER WORD COUNT: 9.7k

MASTERLIST | INSPO TAG | ASK

Y/N promised herself she would never date a musician. It was her one rule–her only rule, actually–when it came to dating. But then, Harry Styles rolled into her life and asked her to break it, just this once. And this is what happened.

a/n: prepare for ANGST! and dunkirk premiere harry aka one of his best looks ever :) also thank u to @havethetimeofyourstyles for making my line breaks bc i’m inept at making things xoxo

pls reblog to spread the word about only exception! 🥰

“Baby,” Harry said, turning to her from where he stood in his closet. “Can you help me with my collar? I can’t get it.”

Y/N set down her phone—she was ready first, which wasn’t surprising considering it took Harry ages to get ready, partially because he kept getting distracted with her. He’d touch her, run his hands all over her, ask if he could get her out of her lingerie, and she’d have to remind him that she’d barely even had it on and they had an important event. “Sure.”

Harry looked dashing—he always did. After much debate, they had decided on a simple white silk short-sleeved button down and a pair of flared black pants, cool enough for May in LA, but still perfectly Harry. Y/N had painted his nails last night a pastel purple while they had watched a documentary about sheep—which Harry had selected—and the color popped against the neutrals of the rest of the outfit. Shoes were still up in the air, but Y/N was trying to get him to wear the yellow loafers he’d gotten recently, the ones she was so obsessed with she was considering stealing for herself.

Somehow Harry always managed to mess up his collars before big nights, the nerves probably getting to him. Y/N smoothed the material on his shoulders to relax him before popping up his collar and folding it back down crisply. “There you go.” In the mirror in front of Harry, her eyes trailed down his body, from his sweet curls she had labored over styling in the bathroom, to the recently tailored pants he wore. She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed, a smile dancing onto Harry’s face at the action. “Nervous, bubs?”

He turned his head and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “Bit. More for you to hear it than anyone else.”

The honesty of his statement brought butterflies to her tummy. Harry had been in and out of meetings for the past few months getting together the release of his debut album and putting the final touches on it, but at no point had he let her hear it. She suspected it was because he was scared she’d hate it, but when she asked her dad about it, he told her to think about it as his journal. His journal of a past that Y/N hadn’t been a part of. That had made Y/N understand a bit better, the prospect of being nervous of what she’d think of him more the worry than a worry of what she’d think of the music. So she nuzzled her nose into his shoulder, careful not to get lipstick on the fabric, and told him, “I’m going to love it. It’ll be perfect, just like you.”

Harry’s arms wrapped backwards so he could hold her to him and they stood there, holding one another, basking in each other’s presence before everyone else arrived. It had been a busy couple months for them to start a relationship—Y/N was swamped at work, her boss having left so she had to take on extra work, and Harry was releasing his album, Dunkirk was coming out in the summer, and his tour started in the fall. It was a lot to say the least, and Y/N tried not to think about it too often because she’d get all in her head and ignore Harry’s texts for hours until he called her and asked her if she wanted gummy worms or Hershey’s for movie night. Then, she’d remind herself that they were doing good—really good, even. Better than other relationships that she had been in for this long. Usually this was when she got bored, but with Harry she kept falling for him more and more every day they spent with each other.

He was like a drug, and she was addicted.

“We should head down,” Y/N said, brushing back from him. “Wear the yellow ones, yeah?”

He mumbled something under his breath about her being bossy and coming for Lambert’s job and she snorted, leaving him in the walk-in closet to straighten himself out. Her phone in her hand, she slipped on her heels, a summer sandal with a platform so her feet didn’t hurt, the perfect compliment to her flowing sundress she’d selected for the release party. When Harry had seen it he’d promptly asked if she could take it off so he could ravish her, so she decided it was a good choice. It emphasized her curves in a way that made her feel confident and she’d pinned her hair over one shoulder, the earrings Harry had gotten her for their three-month anniversary on display.

Re-emerging, Harry rolled his eyes over her body and she gave him a soft smile at the way his eyes screamed with desire. “See something you like?”

“Fuck yes,” he cursed. “Can’t wait to have you all to myself later.” Hands in hers, he pressed a searing kiss to her lips, the kind that made her toes curl, before pulling back. “C’mon, Azoff is yelling at me over text about being late to my own party.”

“It’s literally downstairs,” she pointed out. “He’s just mad he can’t embarrass you in front of your friends.”

Harry laughed, arm tucked around her waist as they descended the stairs of his house. He’d bought it at the end of February, a birthday gift to himself, and Y/N had thought to herself at the time that it wasn’t about her, it was about him. But it was kind of hard whenever he had her help him pick out all the furniture, making sure she approved of the colors he painted the walls and the patio furniture.

Downstairs, the party was in full force. Harry hadn’t invited too many people, mostly the same crowd as his birthday. Since it was at his house, he was hesitant to give the address out to too many people, but ultimately he wanted to be able to do whatever the fuck he wanted to celebrate, no paps around. Also, it was hot and he had a pool, so he had told everyone to bring a swimsuit just in case they wanted to take a dip. Y/N had persuaded him to keep it simple and they’d ordered pizza from his favorite place and she made some a ton of margaritas for everyone to help themselves to. Jeff was left in charge of the door when Harry was late finishing getting dressed, and she could tell that he had done a fine job. The tunes were going, people were drinking, and everyone seemed happy. He had even put the album countdown that Y/N had spent two hours making that morning on the TV.

“Stay close to me, please?” Harry asked her, bending his head to whisper in her ear when they reached the group.

Y/N nodded, and Harry began happily talking to Jeff. Y/N started up a conversation with another one of the Full Stop employees who had come who she’d met at a brunch a few weeks ago, plucking some details from her brain about her boyfriend to check-in about. Then, a familiar face flashed in the crowd. “Hanna!”

Harry had suggested the idea of inviting her best friends to the party and Y/N had leapt at the idea. The prospect of having her two favorite people be there with her to celebrate her boyfriend was her idea of a perfect night. Hanna’s red hair popped up, her smile giddy from seeing Y/N. Cutting through the crowd, she quickly made it to Y/N, who wrapped her best friend up in a tight hug.

“I’m so happy you’re here,” she said. “Find it okay?”

Hanna nodded. “Security at the gate did not want to let me in though. Jamie is on his way—Cole called while he was walking out the door.” Jamie and Cole had been together for years and Y/N decided the first time she met Cole that there wasn’t anyone better for Jamie, and Jamie seemed to agree. “How are you?”

“Amazing,” Y/N replied and she truly was. She felt like she was on cloud nine right now, the energy bouncing off of Harry absorbing into every one of her pores. “Excited to finally hear it.”

“You should be.” Hanna leaned over and tapped Harry on the shoulder.

His attention shifted from some work-related conversation with Jeff quickly over to his girlfriend’s best friend. “Oh, hello Hanna,” he said, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thank you so much for coming.”

“No place I’d rather be,” Hanna replied. “Now can I steal Y/N?”

Harry’s eyes lingered on Y/N, but he gave her a warm smile. “‘Course.”

Y/N followed her best friend out onto the patio, giving hugs and saying hello to the friends of Harry’s she’d met during the past few months of them being together. Harry watched her with awe at how well she had fit into his life, she’d succeeded faster than any other girl he’d ever dated. The tidbits of information she remembered and the way she made an effort to be present in the conversations, her deep knowledge of music and the industry coming in handy. He loved having a girl at her side who knew what all of his team did without him having to explain it to her. It was small, but it made a difference to him.

“H,” Mitch said, pulling his gaze from his girlfriend back to the conversation he’d been having with Mitch, Adam, and Sarah. “You good?”

“Yeah,” he replied, taking a sip of the margaritas Y/N had made for the party. She’d slaved over them all day while he was on calls and doing interviews and he appreciated it so much. He reminded himself to tell her later when he had her alone and could tell her properly.

Sarah smiled at him knowingly. “He’s just looking at Y/N, as usual.”

Mitch and Adam chuckled, but Harry frowned. “Am I not allowed to look at my girl?”

“You are,” Adam said, “just be careful, mate. You told us about the rule, remember?”

The Rule. The goddamn rule that controlled this relationship more than he felt like he did, sometimes. He didn’t know how much Y/N thought about it at this point in their relationship, but then again it was still technically pretty early in the grand scheme of things. But for him, it was a constant reminder than their time together was fleeting, that at any point she might want to leave him, his lifestyle too hard. And it’s not that he blamed her. He just hated that it was a possibility. “I know.”

“How’s it going?” Adam pressed. Harry had been distant these past few weeks, holing himself up in the house with Y/N every chance he got when they weren’t rehearsing and he wasn’t on a call. It was hectic and he knew that his friends worried about him.

Harry took another sip of his margarita, eyes finding Y/N out on the patio laughing with Hanna, hair blowing in the wind. “Been good. She seems really happy,” he continued at the sight of her smile. “Bit nervous about tonight, if I’m being honest though.” He’d told Y/N the same thing, but the pit in his stomach still lingered. She had said she was excited, but he didn’t know how she would react to him releasing an album full of songs about his exes and flings.

They all got it though. “About which song?”

“All of ‘em,” he said nervously, and it was true. Y/N came into his life after the album was done, the idea of adding a song about her impossible. Even though he could’ve written dozens—he already had, the voice memos on his phone to prove it. Sometimes he’d sneak away to the bathroom while she slept to sing something that popped into his head, and the few that he’d shown the band they liked. It was all material for the next album, they told him. Some of them had even become full-fledged songs after a few hours locked in his office, but he hadn’t shared them yet. They still felt too raw.

Sarah reached out a hand and squeezed Harry’s shoulder. “She’ll get it, H. Her dad’s a musician, you know? If there was anyone who would understand, it would be her.”

And she was probably right. But there was a feeling in his gut that Harry couldn’t shake—that tonight wouldn’t end well for them. He’d felt it when he had woken up this morning and no matter how many time he kissed Y/N to make it go away, it lingered and it was making his brain go wild.

He hoped it was just the nerves.

The night passed quickly. There were speeches, a cake, Jeff pulled out a bottle of champagne, and Y/N had rejoined Harry at his side for the most part. And at this party, there was no question as to who she was—to everyone she was “Y/N, my girlfriend,” and Harry loved it. Particularly the look on her face that she would get every once in a while when her eyes caught his. He didn’t know what to call it, but he just knew that he felt the same way.

Before he knew it, it was 11:59 and everyone had gathered in the living room. The TV had the countdown on that Y/N had designed, the album cover with the numerical countdown over it, another bottle of champagne in Harry’s hand, ready to pop. Y/N stood a few people away from him, watching him with that look in her eyes that she’d been giving him all night that made him weak in the knees and made him curious what she would do to him when they were upstairs. He knew why Y/N was keeping her distance right now—she had mentioned it once before when they were curled up in bed after Harry asked her to be put down as a co-host for the party, that this success was his and his alone. That she was here at the end and she wanted it to be all his. She was here to support him and give him kisses after, but it was all his.

“10, 9, 8.” This was it. It was Harry’s debut album, his first solo record. It was weird for the rest of the guys to not be here when an album dropped. Usually, they were all standing together with bottles of champagne, ready to celebrate with one another.

“7, 6, 5, 4.” And Harry didn’t know which one was worse and which was better. Maybe they were both equally as wonderful, because he had other friends here to stand by his side. Jeff, Sarah, Mitch, Adam. James, floating around somewhere. His mum and sister tried to be here but Gemma got sick and Anna wanted to stay behind to take care of her.  

“3, 2,” He had Y/N. He had Y/N’s excited expression, her wide eyes and flushed cheeks, the look of pride on her face that he treasured.

“1!” But this was his, his success, his win. With the first notes of the album playing in the room, he popped the bottle of champagne and with the bubbles running down the side of the bottle, he took a long swig.

Cheers went up around him, his best friends celebrating his biggest success of his career thus far, one he’d fought long and hard for. One he was immensely proud of and he hoped he would always look back on fondly. And the sound of his album blaring in his house’s sound system—the sound of Meet Me in the Hallway, it brought him to tears.

“Aww, man,” Adam brought him into a hug, patting Harry softly on his back. “Y/N! Come here!”

Y/N was there in an instant, wrapping Harry up in her arms, his head falling onto her shoulder, sobs wracking his body as they stood there. He didn’t even care that his friends were all there witnessing him crying into his girlfriend’s shoulder, he was just so overwhelmed.

“You okay, bubs?” Y/N asked, petting the back of his head softly.

“It’s a lot,” he replied softly, trying to find the words. “Happy. But also just…”

Her hands ran up and down his back, rubbing circles. “I know, baby. You don’t need to explain, okay?”

Harry didn’t reply, just tried to find his breath and stop the tears that were welling in his eyes. And when he did, he lifted his head and his lips met Y/N’s, the sound of whoops and cat-calls breaking out around them. The middle finger that Harry raised to them all did nothing to stifle them either. “Thank you,” he said into her hair when they broke.

The feeling of her lips on his neck, a soft kiss, brought him to his knees. “Always.”

And Harry hoped it was true.

While the rest of the party swirled around her—dancing had broke out, James had started making themed drinks, his favorite being the Sign of the Times one—Y/N sat right in front of the speaker, listening to every word of the album. It was her first time hearing it and she knew Harry would probably play it for her later, but she wanted to hear it now. She wanted to hear his pride and joy, the thing that had him beaming and laughing with his friends, belting out the lyrics with Mitch and Adam in a conga line that was worming its way through the room.

And what she heard broke her heart in so many ways.

Y/N knew that music, and much of art, stemmed from pain and hurt. A good amount of it was also about love, but the songs that were some of the rawest, the ones that hit home for most people, were the ones about our darkest moments. Harry’s album was full of them. Heartbreak, heartache, regrets, addiction to people and things. It was chock full of every one of his deepest darkest secrets, especially the women who he had loved before he met her. There was a part of her that knew that he would tell her in his own time about the stories of some of these women—he had mentioned a few when she’d asked about them—and that she didn’t need to push, but there was this disgusting, self-sabotaging part of her that wanted to know every sordid detail, even though she knew it would hurt her.

This was one of the many reasons she had always told herself she would never date a musician, but more importantly that she would never fall for one. Because their relationship, their joys and pitfalls, heartache and brightest moments, it was all fodder for a song, an album, a career. It wasn’t the artist’s fault, that’s how it worked, but that didn’t make it any easier to be the person they were writing about.

Was that all she was? Another girl for Harry to write a song about?

She wanted to be happy for him, to be glowing and beaming for him, but the part of her that she hated, the part that conjured the worst possible parts of people, it was crawling out of her head. It was twisting Harry and she knew it, but that didn’t mean she didn’t believe it.

The album only lasted 40 minutes, but in those 40 minutes the party died down. People had jumped in the pool while Y/N sat by the speaker, they had finished their drinks, they had said their goodbyes, the object of the event passed. Hanna and Jamie came over and gave her hugs, concerned looks on their faces, and told her to call them if she needed anything. When she looked up, the last notes of From the Dining Table fading, it was just her left.

A light from the patio twinkled and she could see the water rippling under the moonlight. Harry.

She left the stereo silent, not cuing up another playlist, and tugged off her shoes, then her dress. Following the pull of the man who had written such a beautiful, heartbreaking, hopeful record, she walked to the patio.

“There you are.” He was floating on his back in just his boxers, which didn’t surprise Y/N in the slightest. The fairy lights they had strung up together were dim in the nighttime darkness, but just bright enough so she could see Harry and all his beauty. “Look bloody gorgeous, love.”

Y/N tucked her hair into a loose bun at the nape of her neck, knotting the hair so it stayed. “Finished the album,” she said, walking to the water’s edge.

“Yeah?” Harry swam over to her, leaning his head on her thighs that rested on the concrete that lined the pool. “What’d you think?”

She couldn’t help the heartbroken smile that graced her features, because she was too tired to lie to him. Exhausted from trying to pretend that she didn’t think about the fact that he could leave her at any moment, that the insecurities of who she was and who he was didn’t catch up to her sometimes. His fingertips brushed at her cheeks and Y/N realized she was crying.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” He hoisted himself out of the water and hooked one of his legs around her waist, pulling her into his wet skin. It was cold against the night air, but somehow Harry was still warm to her.

“I don’t know how to say this,” she said slowly, struggling to find her words.

Fingers drifted up and down her back. “Just do your best.”

She tried not to think about the fact that she was crying on his album release day, that they were having this conversation now. One that sat in the back of her mind when she was alone and Harry couldn’t banish it. “The album is beautiful, Harry,” she started, “but it’s about a past that I wasn’t a part of.” Harry was quiet, but his arms didn’t move from their place around her, so she forged on. “I know that artists write from their experience, and that this album was done before I met you, but there’s this part of me, this horrible part that I utterly despise, that is jealous of them. The women who you wrote about. And the fact that it’s them that you’re going to sing about on stage every night. Does that make sense?”

The brush of his chin against her spine showed her that yes, he understood.

“And,” she continued, voice breaking, “I can’t stop thinking about the fact that maybe I’m going to be a song.”

“Of course you’re going to be a song,” Harry said, his voice soft and sweet.

He didn’t get it. To him, being a song was an honor, but to her, it was a threat almost. “No—it’s that I’m going to be only a song.”

The man next to her didn’t say a word. The chirp of the crickets stretched between their bodies, which were still close on the concrete floor, not a muscle moved.

“I don’t want to only be a song.” Y/N’s voice was hoarse, sobs wracking her body she didn’t expect, didn’t want. She couldn’t have this conversation if she was crying, but she couldn’t hold them in either. It was her biggest fear, the one that festered below all of the others, threatening to consume the relationship she had with a man she was falling for. And falling was the only way to describe it—without any support, a free fall that was utterly terrifying but also blissful peaceful.

Suddenly, his fingers swept across her neck, brushing against her sensitive skin. “Y/N,” he whispered, “you could never be just a song. You’re—you’re like the stars and the moon to me. In that room I could always feel you, wherever you were, and I didn’t want to be anywhere where you weren’t. And maybe this is too fast and too soon, but what I feel for you, fuck Y/N how can you not see how much you are to me?”

He pulled her head so she faced him, his eyes teary to match her own. “Do you hear me? You’re so much more than a song. You’re an album. You’re my life’s work, my masterpiece, a symphony. A song can’t contain how I feel for you, it’s just a piece of a billion I could write.”

Soft as a feather, his lips pressed to her cheeks and then up and across her forehead, over her eyelids, barely leaving a mark but a searing fire in his wake that shook Y/N’s core. “And Y/N, you’re better than a song. You’re my life. You’re here, you’re real, you’re with me. Y/N, you will never be just a song to me. You never could be. Not to me.”

Y/N rested her forehead against his, inhaling his cologne and exhaling her feelings for him. He managed to rip down all her defenses, the ones she had spent years building up, and it was frightening. But then she looked at him, the way he smiled at her, the way he kissed her, the way he said her name, and it wasn’t quite as scary. She hoped he could feel how much she cared for him in the way she kissed him, their tears blending into one as they scrambled for each other. Lips breaking and meeting, desperate for more and more and more. Her fingers gripped the back of his head, holding him to her, wanting to have his whole body imprinted on hers.

“Y/N,” he breathed, “you heard me? You understand?”

“Yes,” she replied softly, “I hear you.” She brushed her fingers through his hair gently, curling the wet strands back. “You may need to remind me sometimes.”

“Always,” he whispered, catching her kiss with his own, tugging her into him, arms around her body in a vice grip.

She lost herself in Harry, him an ocean and her a boat lost at sea. Maybe it was their conversation or the night or the alcohol flowing through their veins, but it felt different. The way he kissed her felt heavier, her moans a prayer, his fingers on his back a weight she never wanted lifted. Her legs wrapped around his waist so she was firmly in his lap, arms thrown over his shoulders, their bare bodies except for their underwear pressed against each other without a molecule of air between them.

His lips drew a line across the top of her shoulder, a fire building in her belly as his fingers fumbled with the clasp of her bra. It was a light pink she’d worn just for him and when he nudged at the strap with his nose, letting it slip from her shoulders, she didn’t care that he could barely see it. She’d show him tomorrow morning. He pulled the fabric away and bent his head, licking at one of her nipples and then the other, gasps falling from her mouth like poetry. Without meaning to, her hips rolled over his cock, the thin fabric of their underwear doing nothing to keep the heat of her center from touching his sensitive skin.

He moaned her name, the sound muffled against her neck as he sucked a love bite into the spot that made her keen every time he nipped into it. She rocked again on him, his fingers digging into her skin so hard it would leave marks tomorrow but she didn’t care. In fact, she wanted to have his marks on her tomorrow, she wanted to show the world that she wasn’t just a song, she was his, she was his girlfriend and she made him feel this way.

Hands on skin, he pressed her down onto the concrete so she was lying down, her ankles tucked around his hips, anchoring her to him. When his hips bucked into hers, she let out a sharp cry, the angle brushing her clit perfectly. “Right there?” He mumbled, nipping and tugging on her nipple, laving a circle that left her squirming against the concrete.

“Off,” she whispered, tugging at his boxers with her hands. “Wanna feel you.” With his help, they shimmied off his boxers without too much difficulty and Y/N let out a sigh of relief when she could feel his cock brush against her covered folds. Reaching a hand down, she brushed the pad of her thumb across his tip, a pained hiss flying from Harry’s throat. He was sensitive and Y/N loved it.

They didn’t have a condom, but she didn’t care. She’d been on birth control for years and she knew Harry hadn’t slept with anyone else since she found her way into his life. Plus, she needed him—she wanted to feel him, raw and bare inside of her.

They were going to have sex on the concrete next to his pool, but she didn’t care. They had had sex before and they would have sex again. She just needed him in a desperate, crawling way. When he nudged at her underwear she pressed into him, letting him pull them down her legs without a second thought.

“Condom,” Harry mumbled as she chased after his lips, open mouthed and heavy.

“It’s okay,” she said, fingers digging into his shoulder blades. “Want you like this.”

Harry’s head dropped to the space between her neck and shoulder, the groan that filled the air unlike anything she had heard before. “Gonna ruin me,” he whispered, brushing his cock against her folds. Y/N whimpered at the sensation, her fingers begging him for more, for anything she would give him. When his fingers brushed her clit, his name tumbled from her lips without abandon.

“Harry, please,” she panted, fingers deep in his hair.

That was all it took. She was so wet from the foreplay and just him that he didn’t even need to stretch her out. Her mouth fell open as he pushed inside, a mewl landing on his lips as he kissed her. Slowly, he pulled out and then back in, both of them groaning from the sensation of him being bare inside her. He felt impossibly close, every ridge and edge of him pressing against her in the most perfect way. She didn’t know if she could use condoms again, because holding Harry to her chest, arms around his shoulders as he fucked slowly, deeply, into her, her able to feel every inch of her, it was bliss on a new level. A sensation she didn’t know she was missing with him.

Her ankles hitched higher on his hips and when he pushed back in he hit a new angle, a groan ripping from his throat that set her on fire. “Can I go faster?” He said with a grunt. “I—I don’t know how much—“

“Yes,” she whimpered at his words.

He didn’t wait. He drew back and into her, pistoning his hips at a pace she couldn’t even describe, hitting that spot deep inside of her that made her eyes roll back over and over. How he managed to do that she didn’t know, but he deserved an award. Fingers grabbing at his skin in desperation for something to hold her together, Y/N gasped and exhaled his name, a plea and a beg and a prayer all in one. Her back hurt from the concrete but she didn’t care, she just wanted to finish, to feel him release deep inside of her.

Then he thumbed over her clit and she arched up, back leaving the concrete as the fire deep within her threatened to bubble over. When he start brushing circles there, Y/N gripped his shoulders like they would keep her anchored to Earth, her body possibly transcending. Harry bent his head and sucked a love bite on her breast, the puncture of skin forcing her head back, unable to keep it together.

“You close?” He asked, littering her chest with kisses, “Please tell me you are, I can’t, I can’t hold on…”

She mumbled a yes as he drove deep inside of her, swiveling his hips in a brutal way that left her hands squeezing his butt cheeks to get him to do it again. When he did, she swore she saw stars. “Gonna come,” she said, eyes searching for his lips in the low lighting. “Kiss?”

Without hesitation, he kissed her, open mouthed and dirty and sloppy and perfect. She wanted every rough-edged and sweet part of him, every kiss and press of his body against hers. “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N,” he chanted as he pressed into her again and again, her body drawing tighter and tighter. Then, he pinched her clit and she came, the ball in her tummy unravelling, hips bucking up against him as she rode out her high. Her eyes stayed trained on him as she did, not wanting to miss his face when he came inside of her.

His hips stuttered, release unloading inside of her in ropes that left him cursing like a sailor. Hair wet and sweaty, sticking to his forehead, and irises blown out, he looked beautiful. She held him close until his body settled, shaking as he came down from his high, forehead resting on the swell of her breasts.

Slowly, he rolled off of her, tugging her body into his so she wasn’t on the cold concrete anymore. He was fiery hot and it kept her warm in the cold air. “Can we never use a rubber again?” He asked softly, and she giggled, hiding her face in his neck.

“Don’t see any reason to,” she replied and he hummed with joy. Tucking her hands under her chin, she looked at him with a smile. “Congrats on your album, baby.”

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear tenderly. “I’m so happy I shared today with you.” She kissed him softly and let him hold her close, not wanting to move even to go to bed because it meant leaving his grasp. And as much as her head told her that it wasn’t forever, she couldn’t help but hope it would be.

It had been four days since Harry had texted her. Five since he called her. Six since they FaceTimed.

He was in London for the press junket for Dunkirk and Y/N was supposed to fly out for the July 13th premiere—it was decided a month ago, the tickets booked and her time off from work already approved. But as the days stretched on and the silence grew longer, she couldn’t help but wonder if something was wrong. If she had done something wrong.

It wasn’t the first time he had been away from LA. They had a conversation about how they were going to handle distance when he travelled back in April, before the album came out and he had to fly around and do press for two weeks. That time, though, he handled it well—he called every night before she went to bed if he could, if not, he sent a long voice memo that she listened to when she woke up. They texted all day, him sending photos from dressing rooms and backstage at talk shows, even FaceTiming her so she could meet the stars he shared the nights with.

But this time was different. Since he left he had texted her just a handful of times and it was when he was at his mom’s house visiting home before press started. And then once press kicked into gear, he was gone, her texts ignored, calls not returned. She was trying not to seem desperate, but with the more time that passed the more anxious she got. It wasn’t how this was supposed to go, this wasn’t what they’d agreed on. He knew her fears, the dark thoughts that crowded in when she spent too much time worrying about their relationship, and yet he wasn’t taking the actions that helped her calm down. Even though she knew it wasn’t his responsibility to take care of her brain, it helped to know he thought about her, at the very least.

The morning before her flight was supposed to leave, she called Hanna in a panic. Her suitcases laid open on her bed, clothes scattered around her, tears streaming down her face. She had tried to call Harry again to confirm her arrival plans, only to be met with his voicemail, again.

Hi, you’ve reached Harry. I’ll give you a call back when I can!

Somehow, the sound of his voice made it worse.

“Han,” she choked out when her friend picked up, “I don’t know what to do.”

“Did he not answer?” Hanna had been counseling her through the whole thing, helping her stay calm and sane, as much as possible at least. From Y/N’s lack of response, just more sobs, Hanna knew immediately. “That prick.”

Y/N wiped a tear from her eye and looked at the ticket in her hand. Harry had forced her to accept his offer of first-class, booking her flight through his agent and everything. “Does he even want me there? Should I not go?”

Hanna was quiet, thoughts rolling through her head. “No,” she finally said. “You should go. Even if it’s just to talk to him in person. You deserve to hear it face-to-face, not by him ghosting you.”

“Even if that means I end up in London and he breaks up with me?”

“Yes,” Hanna replied softly. “But I really, really hope that is not what’s happening.”

At first it had been that he was busy, that he would text when he had time, but it had been six days. Now, both Y/N and Hanna were increasingly worried that it meant the end of their relationship and Y/N was simply not ready for that possibility. She had let Harry in—he had begged her to let him in—and he was going to end things like this? When things got hard with the distance he just…cut her out? “Can you take me to the airport?” Y/N asked, sniffling. “If you don’t I don’t think I’ll be able to force myself to go.”

“Was already planning on it,” Hanna replied. “I’ll bring snacks for the flight.”

“Love you,” Y/N told her. Hanna was her one constant, who knew Y/N better than she knew herself.

“Love you more. Now go finish packing and call me if you need me, okay?”

Y/N told her okay and hung up, her gaze shifting to her suitcase. If he was going to break up with her, then she was going to look so magnificent he would regret every second of it.

Eleven hours in the air meant plenty of time to run over her entire relationship with Harry. She had sat curled up in her seat scrolling through her camera roll and listening to Bon Iver, which was the sappiest thing possible and she didn’t care. Y/N didn’t want to break up with him and the photos and the texts and the memories proved it. Her time with Harry had been so beautifully bright, his presence in her life making so much better, from her confidence to her knowledge to her music taste. And she cared about him in a way she hadn’t let herself do—ever.

She had texted Jeff before she took off, telling him she couldn’t get a hold of Harry and asking where she should go when she landed. He replied with Harry’s Hampstead address and the door code, saying there was a key waiting for her, hidden in the garden, an apology on Harry’s behalf for how busy he had been. The words meant nothing, though, to Y/N. If Harry wanted to apologize he would have to do it in person, not through Jeff.

It was eleven by the time her Uber pulled up to Harry’s house and she thanked the driver as he tugged her luggage from the boot. She waited until he pulled away before she typed in the gate code, not wanting to reveal Harry’s security to anyone—she have been mad at him, but she still didn’t want anything happening to him. The door unlocked for her and she slid inside, shutting it quickly behind her. Pulling her suitcase behind her, she walked up the path, searching for the garden statue Jeff had told her the key was hiding under. When she found it, her fingers ran across the ridges as she made her way to the front door.

His house in LA was warm, it was the Harry she knew. But this house felt colder, the design modern, his personal affects not as visible. Although to his credit, he hadn’t been here for more than a few days in months. A few photos of Anne and Gemma were scattered through the front hall, some framed photos of his time in One Direction nestled between them.

“Harry?” She knew he wasn’t there, but the idea of walking into his house without checking felt too uncomfortable for her. She locked the door tightly behind her, typing in the security code Jeff had sent before re-arming it.

Y/N took her time exploring his house. She perused the main spaces, testing out the couches and peeking at his bookcases, studying the art lining the walls. Then she made her way upstairs to the bedrooms, running her fingers along the edges of his One Direction album plaques that lined the walls of his office, the ones from his debut still resting on the floor waiting to be hung. She found the guest bedrooms with ease and she spent a good five minutes standing on the landing deciding if she should go into his bedroom or set herself up in a guest one.

She settled on a guest bedroom. If he was going to break things off, she didn’t want to know what his bed felt like or smell his clothes or take a shower in his bathroom.

Instead, she showered in the guest bath, washing off the plane smell that lingered on her body. She dressed in shorts and a tank top, letting her hair air dry since she would have to just re-style it for the premiere later. Jeff hadn’t told her what time Harry would be back and she was ravenous, so she wandered downstairs to fix herself some lunch. To fill the silence in the house she turned on The 1975, playing the music from her laptop she had open on the counter as she cooked some pasta she had found in the cabinet. As she ate at his dining table, she tried not to think about the fact that this could be the last time she was in a space of Harry’s. The last time she sat on things he had picked out, the last time she rooted through his fridge, past his obnoxious green juices and leftovers since he hated eating out if he didn’t have to. Her fingers brushed at her eyes, trying to stop the tears that threatened to fall down her cheeks.

Reaching down for her fork to take another bite, she suddenly heard the lock click in the front door and the security system begin to beep.

He was home.

She slid her bowl away from her and turned to look at the doorway, waiting to see his face for the first time in over a week. And when he appeared, she couldn’t the return the stretched across his face at the sight of her in his house. He looked the same and somehow that was worse. In a nice shirt from interviews this morning, his hair slightly tossed from running his fingers through it, the sheen on his upper lip from the heat outside. He looked like her Harry, but she didn’t know if he was hers anymore.

“Y/N!” His voice rebounded off the walls, filling her heart with a kind of hope that was crushing.

“Hi,” was all she could muster before looking back down at her pasta. An anger rose in her, replacing the hurt that had lingered for so many days. How could he pretend like everything was okay? How could he smile at her like he hadn’t been ignoring her for days, too busy to even check and see how her flight was?

His footsteps were heavy on the hardwood floors as he made his way over to her. “Baby? What is it?”

“Do you want to break up?” She asked, her question hard compared to his kind, gentle, tentative tone.

“What?” Harry dropped into the seat caddy-corner to the chair she sat in. “What are you talking about?”

She pushed away her bowl and looked him dead in the eye. “I haven’t heard from you in days, Harry. Days. I flew halfway across the world for you and you couldn’t even manage to check-in to see if I was alive?”

He flinched at her words, eyes dropping to the table they sat at. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, words barely audible above her heart beating a mile a minute, pulsing with anger.

“That’s not going to cut it,” she told him, standing up and taking her bowl to the sink. “You fucking ghosted me like I was a girl you’d just met. We’re about to celebrate six months together. And you know what this shit does to me.”

And he did. She could see in his eyes that he knew he was in the wrong, and yet he was quiet. “I was busy.”

“So was I! But I still found two seconds to text you asking how it was going, I found fifteen minutes before bed to call you, and I kept trying even though you couldn’t even manage to reply to me. You’re not that busy, Harry.”

He stood too, walking over to where she stood in his kitchen so that he was a few paces away from her. “I was in and out of interviews from morning to night and when I wasn’t, I was with the cast who I haven’t seen in almost a year. And when I wasn’t doing that Jeff was harassing me about tour details or I was sleeping. I’m sorry if my schedule didn’t allow me to talk to you at every second of the day, Y/N, but this is a huge moment for me and I had to focus on that.” His words were measured, but she could feel the tension rising between them, words unsaid bubbling over.

“And your career is more important than our relationship.” She nodded sarcastically, wiping her wet palms on the dish towel and turning to face him. “Got it, heard loud and clear.”

“Fuck—you know it’s not!” His hand ran through his locks and down his face, struggling to get a handle on his breathing.

“Harry,” she said, trying not to yell, “I’m not going to force you to stay in a relationship that you don’t want to put the time in for. But you know exactly what I need from you—I have been very clear. You know my fears and my insecurities, and you know what triggers them. We had a plan for how to deal with this, and you completely disregarded it!” Her voice rose at the end, the fact that he couldn’t even meet her eyes pushing all of her buttons. “Fucking look at me when I talk to you!”

His eyes met hers and she didn’t see the Harry she knew, the Harry who cared for her, the soft, gentle man. Instead, she saw someone who was pissed off and hurt and grasping at straws. “I can’t dance around your fears every moment of the day,” he said, voice spitting anger. “And I’m sorry if that breaks one of your rules,” the word hitting her in the face, “but you’re going to have to get over it because I can’t spend every second of the day wondering if something I did or said has made you think I don’t care about you! You should know that I don’t want to hurt you, that of course I want to be with you!”

“Well, how am I supposed to know if you don’t tell me!” His words stabbed her right where it hurt, hitting her fears right in the heart.

Harry turned, his body facing the counter, fingers gripping the edge of the marble. He sucked in breath after breath trying to calm himself down and Y/N tried to find it within herself to have sympathy for him, but she just…couldn’t. She was so pissed off at him she couldn’t think straight.

“I’m not some girl waiting around for Harry Styles to come home, begging him to never leave me,” Y/N said. She was done. She was done with this fight, with him expecting her to be someone she wasn’t. “I’m me and I’m waiting for Harry, the person I care for so deeply it hurts—you are held to the same standards as every other guy, no matter how busy your schedule is. I should not be expected to fit into your schedule all the time. It goes both ways and you operated this week as if it was entirely my job to stay in touch with you. And I am not going to stay in a relationship like that.”

Harry’s head whipped to hers, eyes boring straight into her. “Are you saying you want to break up?”

Y/N tried to keep her head high, tried to hold back the tears. “If you’re going to do this when you’re on tour, I’m done. You know what I want—it’s the same thing I wanted from this relationship the moment I met you. You’re the only one who seems to think things have changed.” And with that, she stormed out of the room, which was probably petty but she didn’t care. She was so mad at him for his actions and his words that she couldn’t stand to be in the same room as him.

Harry didn’t follow her.

At 1 o’clock, a knock came on her door.

“If you still want to come, we have to leave for the premiere in an hour. It’s up to you.” And with that, he walked away, not even waiting for her to open the door.

She sat on the bed, considering her options. Did she go and support him anyway, pretend everything was fine? Or did she stay here—or maybe find a hotel—and leave him alone for the premiere?

He had told her how nervous he was about this. This was his first time on a movie red carpet as an actor and he was freaking out about it before he left, a ball of anxiety that she had to carefully untangle. The thought of him being up there alone pained her, despite how his hurtful words lingered in her head. That she had to get over it as if it was that simple.

The red dress she had bought for the premiere hung in the bathroom where she had left it while she showered so the wrinkles would leave the fabric. It was beautiful—a tiered taffeta skirt that cinched in at the waist, a caged bodice showing off her shoulders. When she had tried it on she had felt beautiful, powerful, as if she could take on anything and everything. She had spent a ton of money on the dress and she didn’t want to waste it.

So she got up, turning on BANKS and set about her hair and makeup in the bathroom, praising Hanna for teaching her how to do her makeup in college. She painted her lips red, in the shade that she adored wearing, and twisted up her hair into a chignon that emphasized her neck. Running her fingers along the skin she remembered when Harry had kissed it, but the love bite he had left behind was long healed. Was she asking too much of him? She wondered as she looked at herself in the mirror. Was he right, were her fears stifling him?

Then she remembered what Hanna had told her. That he wasn’t anyone different from other guys she had dated, and what she was asking from him wasn’t out of left field. Any guy she would date she would except to check in with her when he was traveling and Harry was no different, no matter what his job was.

Harry was waiting downstairs for her, probably having heard her rummaging around in the closet. When he heard her heels on the stairs, he looked up and his eyesight on her skin burned because he looked gorgeous. Maybe this was a horrible idea, she thought as she made her way towards him. She would have to touch him all night, look at him in his tailored suit, gaze into his green eyes as they were photographed on the red carpet.

“You look beautiful,” he said, words gravelly in his throat.

She stopped a few paces away from him. “Thanks.”

He fiddled with his keys, the silence stretching between them. “Thank you for coming with me. I know you have no reason to, but having you there…It means a lot.”

Instead of replying, because she didn’t have words for him, she just nodded. Because she did have a reason—even though she was mad at him, she still cared for him. Despite not wanting to, she still craved him giving her a kiss on the cheek as they walked out the door.

The drive to the red carpet was quiet, the radio playing softly in the background the only sound. They sat on either side of the backseat, Y/N staring out the window while Harry fiddled with his phone. She hadn’t been to London since she was 18 for her graduation present from her mom, and the city held warm memories for her. She wondered if that would change after today.

When they pulled up, an anxiety Y/N didn’t know she was holding started building, the sight of the photographers and the screams from the fans barricaded in. With all that had been happening, she had somehow forgotten what going to the premiere meant for her. Her eyes fell to Harry who was staring at her, trying to gauge her reaction. She had never done this before and he knew that.

“I’ll be with you the whole time,” he said, trying to calm her fears. “Promise.” It helped. At least she wouldn’t be completely alone. “Ready?” He stretched out a hand to her and she took it, letting him help her from the car.

The second her feet hit the pavement, the screams got louder. Fans with signs and their phones outstretched on either side of the wide red carpet, the word DUNKIRK in large white letters closest to the entrance to the theater. Harry’s hand gripped her as she stood, thankful for his body to help her keep balanced.

“Just smile as best you can,” he whispered in her ear as the car pulled away behind them. “And if your eyes start hurting from the flashes, just look at me, okay?”

Y/N nodded, and with his hand in hers, fingers entertained, they made their way down the carpet. He stopped a few times to take photos with fans and sign cards, but all that time he never strayed too far from Y/N’s side. With his arm securely wrapped around her waist, they stood for photos, Y/N trying to stand up as straight as she could and smile sweetly. Harry was a pro at this, a smile practiced for years, but she didn’t have the same experience. She was just a regular person who didn’t know which side was her bad side and had her eyes closed in half her photos.

The cameramen screamed questions at them, about their relationship, if they were married. They’d never quite publicly announced their relationship, Harry preferring to keep his private life private, so this was the first time they’d ever even publicly been out as a couple. And for it to be like this…Y/N hated it. She wanted to stand there and be utterly infatuated with Harry like she usually was, but this time her spine was rimrod straight, trying to keep her emotions in check. It was awkward, the way he tentatively touched her body, not wanting to overstep but also wanting to present the aura of normalcy.

Then they took a few steps and rotated to another set of cameras and Y/N understood what Harry had meant about her eyes hurting from the flashes. She turned her head to him and he found her eyes, giving her a wide smile meant just for her. Without thinking about it, her hand pressed to his suit right over his heart, the soft material of his suit jacket butter under her fingers. Then, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek, softly and sweetly and to most it wouldn’t have meant much. But to Y/N, it was the first time he had kissed her since she’d seen him. And the feeling of his lips on her skin lingered, a tingle moving through her body. Her hand gripped his back a little tighter and he just kept smiling at her, utterly entranced by her eyes.

Their bodies had betrayed them. To anyone who looked, they would have seen perfectly fine, not that they had been fighting only two hours ago. But they knew the reality, and this moment, their bodies close together and emotions running through them without being able to stop it, it made it clear that neither of them wanted to break up. They would just have to find a way to move through it.

TAGLIST

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NEXT CHAPTER COMING JULY 11TH @ NOON CST

[chilling-seavey]

Anything But Mine - Penelope’s Meltdowns

A/N Penelope is quite a complex character and there’s a lot that even Florence and Daniel had to discover about her as she grew up; her sudden meltdowns being one of them. 

Saturday, December 2, 2023

The mall was busy with Christmas shoppers, bustling through the stores and wide hallways decked out in tinsel and garlands and the speakers playing light Christmas music. It was a Saturday afternoon so was it was busier than normal, not to mention the additional chaos of the Christmas season. Regardless of the crowds, the mall was always so nicely decorated for the holidays, down to the four-storey tall tree that was absolutely covered in twinkling lights. The girls always loved the Christmas lights and Florence and Clementine stood at the side of the railing overlooking the huge tree.

Usually, Penelope would be right up there with them but she had been in a bit of a mood all day, refusing to wear her coat and then crying the whole time to the mall after they forced her in it. So she stood holding Daniel’s hand with tear-stained cheeks as he held her coat and they watched Florence and Clementine admire the decorations a few steps away.

They had spent a good bit of the afternoon in the mall, picking up their last few gifts for the family in good time before the mad rush would start closer to the holidays. Penelope refused to be more than an arm length away from Daniel the whole time, making him carry her until his arms were nearly ready to give out and when he set her down she wouldn’t leave him alone until he picked her back up again. Her crying was constant and she was clingy and it was putting sort of a damper on their little trip.

They had planned to go home for dinner when they finished shopping since they had just bought groceries not long before but as they made their way to the exit, Daniel suggested finding a restaurant as a treat. Clementine gladly agreed, jumping off the top of the escalator with a thud from her pink winter boots, her hand still held tightly by Florence as they made it to the foyer of the mall nearest the main downtown intersection. Daniel set Penelope back on her feet with a tired sigh as they reached the top of the escalator and she whimpered right away and reached back up for him.

“I’ve been carrying you all day, bug. You’re gonna have to walk for a bit.” he said, taking her hand without another word.

“So we’ll go to a restaurant instead then.” Florence confirmed, stopping by the wall out of the way of the crowds to slip Clementine’s coat back on her and zipped it up.

“I wanna go home.” Penelope pouted softly.

“We’re going out for a treat instead.” Daniel said with a small smile, crouching down in front of her to put her coat on.

“No.” Penelope turned away from him at the sight of her winter jacket and leaned into the wall.

“Come on, bug. It won’t be on for long.” Daniel grabbed her arm gently and turned her to face him again, trying to wiggle her arm in the sleeve.

“No!” Penelope cried, fresh tears welling in her eyes. “Go home now!”

“Even if we go home you need to wear your coat.” Florence said.

“I don’t wanna go home yet!” Clementine protested, looking between her parents, her voice loud over the music playing through the mall speakers.

“I know.” Florence assured her softly.

Daniel reached for Penelope again, finally managing to wiggle her into her coat despite her blubbery sobs and small cries in protest. He zipped it up and buttoned it up so she was basically locked in there and then he stood again to turn to his wife with a tired sigh.

“Can you manage a dinner out?” Florence asked him quietly.

“Yeah. Might trade kids with you though.” Daniel whispered.

“That’s fine.” Florence nodded, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek.

To anyone else, the situation was generally calm. To Penelope, it felt like the end of the world. The sudden change in plans of going out to eat instead of home was one thing but then there was also the Christmas music that had been playing loudly all day – a lot of the songs repeating enough to drive anyone mad really – right with the noise of the crowds and the traffic now that was honking loudly from just outside the glass doors a few metres away. The lights from the city square were flashing brightly and all the noises were overlapping from inside and outside and the contrast between the loud talking of the crowd and her parents’ soft whispers made her skin crawl and her coat itched her neck like crazy and Penelope just…lost it.

She threw herself on the dirty floor of the mall with a loud scream, making a few passersby look over as well as her parents and sister as she flopped backwards onto the floor and clawed at her coat as she screamed at the top of her lungs.

“Oh my God.” Daniel crouched in front of her, grabbing her arm to get her up. “Penelope, stop it. We don’t act like this when we’re upset.”

That only made her cry louder, flailing on the floor as she tried to kick him away, clawing at her coat until a few of the buttons popped open.

“You are not taking your coat off.” Daniel said sternly, trying to ignore the stares of strangers as they passed and he tried to button them back up.

The three-year-old only screamed, hot tears pouring down her cheeks through wracking sobs, tugging at her coat until it looked like she was going to claw right through the fabric.

“Penelope. Stop it.” Daniel grabbed her arm to try and pull her to her feet but she flailed harder, shoving his hands away and kicking at his chest. “Penelope Magnolia! No kicking. Stand up like a big girl.”

She only cried louder, her pouted lips shining in spit with how dramatic her meltdown was as her screams echoed through the mall. Daniel was trying to stand her up but she kept making herself go limp in his arms to flop back on the floor.

“Just take it off her. It’s not worth it right now.” Florence whispered shakily to her husband as Clementine hid behind her leg.

Daniel sighed in frustration at his daughter throwing a fit in the middle of the mall, carefully reaching to start to unbutton her coat and unzip it, offering her a shaky, “Okay, okay, it’s coming off.”

Penelope visibly took a deep shaky inhale once the coat was off as if having it on was physically restricting but she still screamed, rolling over onto her stomach and curled up in a ball with her hands over her ears. Every time Daniel went to touch her she screamed louder and he looked up at his wife helplessly.

“What the hell do I do?” he breathed.

Florence directed Clementine to sit a bit of a ways away with their bags, still within arms reach but giving them and their emotional youngest some space. Florence crouched down with him on the floor, setting a hand on Penelope’s back,

“Penny, baby, it’s Mommy.” she spoke softly. “What’s wrong?”

Penelope just kept crying, hands clamped over her ears and she shrieked against the tile floors. Daniel sat back a moment and ran his hands over his face with a stressed sigh, glancing around at the onlookers that passed by staring like they were a storefront window or street performers.

“Oh my God, Dani, what do we do?” Florence breathed.

“I-I don’t know.” Daniel stammered, feeling completely hopeless as their three-year-old was having a full meltdown, feeling near tears himself.

“Should we just take her home like this?”

“Yeah.” Daniel sighed, standing up so he could bend down to pick up the three-year-old who screamed louder in his arms, earning more stares from strangers in the mall. He tucked her coat around her shoulders despite her wiggling to try and get it away from her as Florence took Clementine by the hand and gathered their bags.

Penelope screamed the whole way into the parking garage, wiggling enough that it was almost a struggle for Daniel to hold her, her hands digging her nails into his shoulder only making it more difficult for him. Florence unlocked the car and opened the back door for him and he got Penelope in her car seat, the toddler shrieking at the top of her lungs as he put her down and started to buckle her up.

Clementine was gaping over at her sister as Florence buckled her into her own car seat on the other side, confused as to what the heck was going on. It wasn’t unusual for Penelope to cry or scream when she was upset but this seemingly sudden outburst…this meltdown was completely out of left field. She cried and screamed and tried to get out of her seatbelt and smacked her hand against the window almost the whole way home, the rest of their small family sitting in tense silence. She tired herself out by the time they got to their building, wailing herself into a sleep stemmed from exhaustion.

Daniel carried her upstairs, Florence and Clementine following quietly after with their bags, taking the elevator silently together. Penelope was completely clocked out on Daniel’s shoulder, red cheeks stained in tears squished against his shoulder and her arms hanging limply around his neck. No one spoke as he carried her into the apartment and right to her room, carefully and silently undressing her and putting her into her pyjamas. It was a miracle she didn’t wake up. He stayed in her room a moment longer after he tucked her into bed, sitting at the side of her bed and watched her sleep, biting anxiously on his fingernail. Something wasn’t right with his little girl and it nearly broke his heart to think of what could be going on in that sweet little head of hers.

~~

Saturday, November 28, 2026

After a few years of doctors appointments and specialists and finally a diagnosis, Penelope’s meltdowns and seemingly constant discomfort had a name to it. Daniel and Florence went out of their way to buy every single possible book or article on autism in girls to figure out how to make life easier for their second daughter and especially for themselves too. So, by the time three years had passed and they found themselves in a similar situation during Christmas shopping, they had a much better understanding on how to handle it.

The coat was no longer an issue since Penelope was old enough to choose her own winter coat and what she felt comfortable in but it was again, the full day of a crowded mall and overlapping noises and sensory overload to the max. She was still young at only six so she had yet to understand what she was even feeling when she felt it but the second she ripped her hand out of Daniel’s, the parents knew what was coming.

They were in the middle of the crowded hallway, like right in the middle of the crowd, when Penelope dropped to the floor with a strained sob.

The crowd moved around her, staring at her as she broke into loud tears, nearly screaming as she curled up on the dirty floor. Florence and Daniel exchanged knowing glances, having a plan already in the back of their minds from late night practice over medical articles. So Florence passed Daniel the favourite stuffed puppy she had tucked in her purse before she took Clementine and Lucy down one of the side hallways and out of the crowd as Daniel crouched down beside Penelope.

“Hey, honey. It’s okay. I’m right here.” Daniel said softly, tucking the puppy in her arms. “Puppy’s right here too.”

Penelope only cried harder, curling into herself on the floor. Her screams nearly echoed through the mall, earning dozens of stares from strangers but Daniel kept his eyes on his daughter, even as she kicked at him.

“Okay, bug, Daddy’s gonna take you somewhere quiet, okay?” Daniel carefully scooped her up, making sure she wasn’t thrashing too hard because he didn’t want to scare her but he managed to carry her slowly out of the crowd and down the side aisle after Florence and the other two girls.

Penelope’s wails echoed more in the emptiness and he slid down to the floor against the wall with the six-year-old on his lap. He set a hand over her opposite ear and pulled her head against his chest to block out any noise for her and then stayed absolutely still. No loving back rubs or soft hums that he was so familiar with doing as those would just trigger her more. Just silence.

Florence sat with Clementine and Lucy only a couple feet away, watching him nervously as Penelope still cried in his arms. Daniel held her snugly, the slightly weighted stuffed puppy resting on her lap and the secure hold of his arms around her already started to calm her crying a little. When her wails turned into soft cries, Daniel and Florence exchanged wide eyed glances from where they sat apart, watching their daughter start to calm herself down.

Penelope soon quieted down into soft sniffles and she picked up her puppy to cuddle into her chest. Daniel carefully took his hand from over her ear, running his thumb softly over her cheek before tucking his arm around her.

“There you go.” Daniel whispered, kissing her head as he held her against his chest. “Daddy’s got you. You’re okay.”

Penelope, now embarrassed as she was coming down from her uncontrollable meltdown, shifted to wrap her arms around his shoulders and buried her face in his neck. Daniel tucked her legs around his waist and held her close, looking over at Florence again with a small sigh.

“How about we go get some ice cream?” Florence suggested. Clementine and Lucy cheered with agreement and Penelope lifted her head up long enough to share a cheeky smile with Daniel.

“Yeah! Let’s go get you a big scoop of chocolate ice cream, okay?” he smiled at her, pressing a sweet kiss to her tear stained cheek.

[radishaur]

Hi! I love waking up in the morning to find my feed filled with your writing! You’re so good! I was wondering if you can write a zuko x female reader based on the song “Easy as all that” by Miniature Tigers? That song gives me major pining!zuko vibes. Hope your day/night is going well! :)

Oh my goodness, this literally melted my heart! 🥺 Thank you so so much! Also I would love to do a song request! I think that idea is so cool! I hope you enjoy!

- Zoe

•••

Crazy About You (Zuko x Reader)

Warnings: none

Genre: Fluff

Part: 1/1

Summary: See request

•••

When Zuko invaded the Southern Water Tribe, he had expected to find the Avatar. What he did not expect to find was you.

You were absolutely fearless, not hesitating to attack him when he threatened you. You were also incredibly talented at fighting. Without even breaking a sweat, you were able to beat him in a fight. Your water bending was powerful. You were clearly a beginner, but that didn’t matter. Your sheer power was enough to knock him off his feet.

Not to mention you were undeniably beautiful. Of course, nothing could ever come of it. You were enemies. Destined to fight each other until the end of time. He had no choice but to repress the feelings you gave him down into oblivion.

Admittedly, he wasn’t very good at it though. Everytime you guys went head to head he would always be careful not to hurt you. He even purposefully let you escape sometimes. Not that you needed him to. He knew you were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself.

There had been multiple times he went back and forth about confessing his feelings for you. He knew they were wrong and that you would obviously be disgusted, which made him want to keep his mouth shut. But on the other hand, his Uncle had once told him that being honest about your feelings is better than hiding them. Maybe if he told you then he could finally get rid of them.

He shook his head. Right now was not the time to be thinking about you. His nerves about seeing you again made him distracted, but he needed to practice his speech. Not get flustered over a girl.

He straightened up and looked at the badger frog who was sitting on the log in front of him. He took a deep breath before starting.

“Hello, Zuko here. But I guess you probably already know me....sort of,” he trailed off, rubbing his head sheepishly.

This was not a good start.

“Uh, so, the thing is, I have a lot of firebending experience and I’m considered to be pretty good at it. Well, you’ve seen me....You know, when I was attacking you?” he asked, quickly realizing that was probably not the best thing to bring up, “Uh, yeah, I guess I should apologize for that.”

Not a good start at all.

“B-But anyway, I’m good now. I mean, I thought I was good before, but now I realize I was bad. But anyways...,” he sighed, realizing this was not going to be easy, “I think it’s time I joined your group and taught the Avatar firebending.”

There was a beat of silence as the badger frog croaked.

“That wasn’t bad, but I would probably tweak a few things.”

I spun around in shock to see her leaning against a tree behind me. She had a basket in her hand that was full of fish. She must have been hunting food down for the group. I looked at her cautiously, unsure if she was going to attack me or not.

“It’s a good infiltration plan I have to say, although none of us are stupid enough to believe it after everything you’ve put us through,” she continued, pushing herself up off the tree and coming closer.

“I-It’s not- I’m not-“ I tried to say, my words getting stuck in my mouth as she came closer.

“Why else would you be practicing your speech? Usually people who are genuine don’t need to rehearse what they’re saying,” she argued, standing a mere few inches away from me.

I blushed in embarrassment and crossed my arms over my chest.

“I’m not exactly a people person. It usually helps to practice beforehand,” I mumbled.

“Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation? Shy? I don’t believe it for a second. Although you’re a good actor,” she insisted, her glare so intense I felt like she was looking inside my soul.

“I didn’t even know you were there! Why would I be acting for myself?” I exclaimed, my blush growing as my embarrassment doubled.

She seemed to hesitate to take in my point. She took a step backwards and looked at me in shock.

“You’re being serious,” she said in disbelief.

“Yes. I’m being serious,” I huffed, finally looking back at her.

I immediately regretted it. She looked beautiful and I felt paralyzed to the spot as she looked at me. Her gaze had softened when she realized I wasn’t joking about joining the Avatar and her stance had relaxed significantly. The way the sun shone on her and glimmered in her eyes-

“What are you looking at?” she asked, looking over her shoulder for something that wasn’t there.

“Oh! Uh....nothing. I just uh- I thought I saw something,” I replied, my whole face going red in embarrassment at being caught staring.

She looked at me once more before sighing. She grabbed my arm and began dragging me behind her.

“Come on, then. If you’re really serious I can convince them to believe you,” she said.

“R-Really? You would do that? I’ve given you no reason to trust me,” I responded, shocked that she had believe me so easily.

“Because you’ve always let me go. You never really attacked me and I know you could have if you wanted to. There’s good in you somewhere,” she answered.

Her response made me more flustered that I was before. My stomach flipped as she spoke and I could feel my cheeks heat up. Did she really notice I was going easy on her? And did she know why?

I didn’t ask any of the questions I had. I just followed after her as she led me down to the group. They had all been horrified to see her dragging me behind her and they went to attack, but she held them off. She let me explain myself and, despite some rough patches, got them to accept me as a prisoner.

It was clear to me then how much trust the gaang had in her. She stood by my side even after I accidentally told them I sent an assassin after them and she had been able to convince them to let me stay. They clearly didn’t want me to, but they agreed because she asked them to. Even though she wasn’t related to any of them, they treated her like family. They trusted her with their lives.

She truly was special.

It wasn’t until after I saved the group from Combustion Man that they began to trust me on my own. Aang and Toph were almost immediately on board with me while Sokka and Katara were more hesitant. But Y/N was by far my #1 supporter and grew to be my best friend. She did everything in her power to help me gain the group’s trust.

She accompanied Aang and I to the ancient Sun Warrior’s temple. She helped me break Sokka’s dad and girlfriend out of prison. She even tracked down Katara and Sokka’s mom’s killer with me. All to get me to trust them.

And everything she did just made it harder for me to repress my feelings for her. Her laugh sent butterflies off in my stomach. Her smile made my heart ache. Her kindness made me feel things I had never felt before. And there were countless times I had been caught staring at her.

Pretty much everybody could see I was desperately head over heels for her. But I was still fighting myself over wether to tell her or not. I really wanted to tell her. Especially now that we had become friends, it could be possible. But there was always a tiny voice in my head that told me I would never be good enough for her. It told me that I wouldn’t be able to treat her the way she deserved. That she deserved someone worthy of her and that I clearly wasn’t.

That was the battle I had within myself everytime I saw her and now was not an exception to that.

Sokka had convinced us all to go see a play about ourselves. I had originally been against the idea until I saw how excited Y/N was to go. I immediately agreed after that. Now, she was sitting right next to me as we waited for the play to start.

My heart was pounding out of my chest. She was so close to me that if I moved even an inch to the right we would be touching. Her hand brushed against mind as she talked with Katara, spending sparks through my arm. She had no idea how crazy she drove me.

“Zuko, are you ok?” Aang asked, snapping me out of my thoughts.

“Huh?...Oh! Y-Yea. Just nervous about the play,” I lied.

Luckily, Aang was gullible. That or he decided to spare me the embarrassment of pressing the issue. Either way, he let it go. Pretty soon, the play had started. Everybody was pissed with how their chatacter was portrayed except Y/N. She was displayed as head strong and independent, constantly shown beating stage me in our fights. To be fair, that part was incredibly accurate. Plus, her excitement over her portrayal was enough to make me forget my annoyance about how state me was portrayed.

The play itself was kind of terrible. The storyline was skewed and the relationships between everyone felt off. It was annoying, but bearable. At least she was happy. After a brief intermission, the play continued. I was thoroughly bored up until the scene in the crystal catacombs. At that point, I’m pretty sure my heart stopped beating.

“I have to admit Prince Zuko, I really find you attractive,” Actress Katara said.

“You don’t have to make fun of me!” Actor Zuko snapped in response.

“But I mean it. I’ve had eyes for you since you first captured me,” Actress Katara cooed.

“Wait. I thought you were the Avatar’s girl?” Actor Zuko asked in confusion.

“The Avatar? Why he’s like a little brother to me,” Actress Katara said through fits of laughter, “I certainly don’t think of him in a romantic way.”

“Well, that’s too bad for you. I’ve only ever had eyes on Y/N,” Actor Zuko exclaimed, turning to face Actress Y/N who was watching from the side.

Everyone turned to look at me and I shrunk into my seat. Thank Agni the theatre was dark otherwise they would clearly see the blush covering my face.

“You like me?” Actress Y/N asked with a laugh.

“Your beauty and power is alluring. You’ve had my heart since the day I met you,” Actor Zuko said, taking Actress Y/N’a hands in his.

I could feel everyone’s eyes on me as I hid my face in my hood. I desperately wanted this scene to be over.

Oh how I would soon regret that wish.

Actress Y/N laughed uncontrollably. She even wiped a fake tear from her eyes when she was done.

“I could never like you!” Actress Y/N exclaimed , pushing Actor Zuko away, “I’m much to powerful for you. You disgust me. You’re nothing but a monster. An obstacle in my way.”

I felt my heart sink. Even though she hadn’t actually said those things, it hurt like she did. I needed to leave. I saw Aang getting up to leave and mumbled something about going with him before bolting out of the theatre.

I walked outside the theatre as I thought over everything that had happened. I scolded myself for ever allowing myself to feel things for her. What Actress Y/N had said was probably true. How could she ever see me as anything other than a monster? She was much better than I ever could be, not to mention everything I’d put her and her friends through.

I sat down at the beach that was across from the theatre. I groaned as I let myself lean against the rocks. I cursed under my breath. How did I let myself get so worked up over a stupid play. A stupid play about stupid-

“Hey.”

My heart dropped into my stomach. I felt like I was going to be sick from nerves. I opened my eyes and looked to the side to see Y/N sitting next to me in the sand. I looked up at the stars to avoid her gaze.

“Hi,” I forced myself to say.

“You seemed upset when you stormed out of the theatre, so I wanted to come check on you,” she explained, placing a hand on my shoulder.

Her touch sent a shock across my whole body. Even just her touch drove me wild. I was properly and thoroughly whipped.

“I’m fine,” I insisted, still not looking at her.

“You wouldn’t have stormed off if something didn’t upset you,” she argued, scooting even closer to me.

Spirits, I wanted nothing more than to pull her close to me and never let go. To her over and over again. I forced myself to stop thinking about how close she was. I needed to forget about it. It would never happen. Ever.

“Is it because of what Actress Me said?” she asked.

“I...” I went to deny it, but couldn’t come up with something to say, so I simply sighed.

“Zuko, you know I don’t see you as a monster, right?” she assured me, squeezing my shoulder as she did.

“Why not?” I exclaimed, finally looking at her as I felt my heart breaking into a million pieces, “After everything I’ve done to you and your friends, why don’t you hate me?”

She seemed taken aback at my sudden outburst before her expression softened once more. She let her hand drop from my shoulder and instead took my hand in hers. She gave me a soft smile as she squeezed it.

“Because you’re a good person who got handed a terrible hand of cards to start your life with. I don’t blame you for struggling. I think that makes you an even better person, actually. It means you’re not afraid to work for what’s right, even if it’s hard,” she explained.

I couldn’t stop myself anymore. She looked radiant in the moonlight and her speech was enough to make my heart explode. I reacted before I could think twice about it. I let my free hand cup her face and pressed my lips onto hers. They were soft and warm and everything I had imagined and more.

But then the realization of what I had just done crashed down on me and I snapped myself back. I stared at her shocked face in horror. Oh Agni what had I done?

“I-I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. Oh spirits, I-“ I began apologizing before I was muffled by her lips crashing into mine.

I was surprised that she was kissing me, but that didn’t stop me from kissing back. My heart swelled with joy as I kissed her back, letting my hand cup her cheek softly. When she finally pulled away, she rested her forehead against mine.

“I was wondering how long it was going to take you to do that,” she giggled.

“W-What?” I asked, clearly confused as to what she meant.

“Zuko, you’re not very good at hiding your feelings,” she teased, causing me to get flustered once again.

She laughed as I began to blush profusely. I rubbed the back of my neck sheepishly as I pulled away from her. I felt her hand on my face and then a soft peck on my cheek.

“You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed,” she said, a huge grin plastered on her face.

I felt my face grow hotter as my blush grew more intense, but I couldn’t stop myself from smiling back at her. She stood up and held a hand down for me to take.

“Come on. The intermission will be over soon and everyone will be wondering where we are,” she said.

I grabbed her hand and let her help me on to my feet. She laced her fingers with mine and walked beside me all the way back to the theatre.

The rest of the play sucked. It was probably one of the worst ones they had ever out on. And yet, despite that, I had never been happier. Y/N made me happier than I had ever been before. Looking back, I really should have just come clean about my feelings. But I wouldn’t change it. The way it went down was perfect to me.

Who knew it would be as easy as all that?

[before-we-get-started]

Dream Come True

Colin Shea x O/C Corinne MacAdam

Multi-Chapter Story - Complete

Summary: Colin Shea and his band Rock the Cradle are finally making it big - until something unexpected happens. When he meets a girl that makes him reconsider his player ways, he thinks his life may be coming together, until she blows it apart.

Warning: Bad language, smut, suicidal ideations - no one under 18, please

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please do not read if you are underage. I do not own the character of Colin Shea; the rest are my original characters. By reading beyond this point, you understand the disclaimers as posted.

Chapter Four

Cori’s dad set down the last box on the kitchen counter. She couldn’t believe she was finally moving into a new apartment.

“This is it kiddo,” he said, wrapping her up in a hug. She smiled into his shoulder and hugged him back.

“Thank you so much Daddy.” She watched her father’s face spread into a smile.

“Corinne, I can’t tell you how happy we are for you. You’re getting a fresh start. The world is your oyster, you know.”

She wrinkled up her nose. “I hate oysters,” she said with a giggle.

“Well, you never know, there might be a beautiful pearl inside.” He kissed her on the forehead.

Cori walked him to the door, the daunting task of unpacking ahead of her. She opened the door to see him off and stopped in her tracks. Directly across the hall at apartment 6A, a guy clad only in flowered boxers had a blonde in a tight embrace, kissing her passionately. She pulled away from the guy and said goodbye.

“Bye April,” the guy said with a wave.

“Annie.” There was irritation in her voice.

“Annie, right. Bye Annie.”

As the blonde huffed down the stairs, Cori got a good look at her new neighbor. Tall, fit, a bad case of bedhead but adorable. His upper body was chiseled muscle, his legs long and sexy. He suddenly realized she was standing in her door and gave her the once-over. He licked his lips as he admired her in her jeans, tight Red Sox t-shirt and bare feet. “Well, well, well,” he said, walking around the bannister towards her. “Helloooo 6C.”

Cori smirked at him, crossing her arms without realizing it, protecting herself. “Hello.”

He prowled toward her like a cat stalking a mouse. “And what is your name? And how did I get so lucky?”

Just as he approached, her dad stepped out the door.

“Her name is Corinne. And unless you want to press that luck, I suggest you make a U-turn and go back to your apartment.”

Colin’s eyes were wide, a startled look on his face, but he recovered quickly.

“Well hey Corinne, welcome. I’m Colin, Colin Shea, from across the hall in 6A. I’m the official welcome party for the building. Just wanted to say hi.”

“Do you always welcome new neighbors in your boxers?” said her dad.

Colin looked down, as if he’d forgotten he was barely dressed. “Ah, that, well, I wasn’t sure when I’d get a chance to say welcome, thought I better seize the moment.”

“The moment after you couldn’t remember the name of the girl you just slept with?” said Cori, not sure where she got the nerve.

Colin gave a smile, shaking his head. “Ok, I know when I’m beat. It really was nice meeting you Corinne. I promise I’m a good neighbor.”

“Be neighborly and keep your distance,” said her dad with a smirk.

“Dad,” Cori hissed. “Don’t mind him, he’s just an overprotective dad. And everyone calls me Cori.”

Colin visibly relaxed, walking backwards towards his door. “Cori it is. Talk to you later Cori.” He gave her a little salute and disappeared into his apartment.

“Oh brother,” said her dad, “now I have to worry about that guy.”

Cori laughed. “No you don’t Daddy, I’ll be fine. This is a nice building, don’t worry.”

He pulled her into a warm embrace. “Your mother will call and check on you later.” With that, he made his way down the stairs.

She stared over at 6A’s door. She was still trying to register the gorgeous Welcome Wagon across the hall. Those long muscular legs, defined pecs and a six pack, biceps for days, blonde hair and blue eyes, absolute pure sexiness, and quite evidently a heap of trouble. Her heart fluttered a little. There were lots of reasons to love this new apartment.

She’d given herself the weekend to unpack and get the apartment set up. She was finding it easier each day to look forward. The disappointment of losing her fiancée and being betrayed by her best friend was still there, but she’d managed to push it away. The experience she’d had when she’d flatlined was always at the surface but she’d always had an active imagination and was a romantic at heart. Instead of seeing a light when she passed, she guessed she’d seen a hottie by the ocean. She smiled at the memory, tucked away in her heart. She owed that guy big time, even if he didn’t exist.

She’d run downstairs to throw some boxes in the recycler and met another neighbor, a chatty girl named Cathy who invited her to a party. “It’s so nice out, we’re taking advantage of the rooftop deck. Come and join us, you can meet some more of your new neighbors. Seven o’clock, bring something to share that we can nibble on. Drinks are provided.”

Cori had thought all afternoon about it and decided what the heck, she had to start somewhere. She was still putting clothes away but found her favorite shirt, a pullover with tiny bright flowers on a black background and a deep V neckline trimmed in lace with lace-trimmed bell sleeves and her favorite black capris. She pulled her chestnut curls up into a ponytail and lightly applied makeup, squirting her favorite perfume in the air in front of her and walking through. She slipped on black flats and because she was still unpacking her kitchen, pulled a bottle of wine from a box and headed to the stairs to the roof.

As she opened the door, a warm breeze hit her. She could hear light conversation and laughter, the sun just beginning to set. String lights with Edison bulbs were strung from a large brick chimney that rose from the roof to a canopy set up nearby. Folding chairs and an old couch sat under the lights, along with a long table holding chips, dip and other finger foods. A large cooler sat next to the table.

Cori approached the group slowly. Suddenly she was regretting her decision. It would’ve been so much easier to just order a pizza and finish unpacking.

“Cori!” Cathy from the trash room was waving at her. She shyly walked over to her.

“Everyone, this is Cori. She just moved in to 6C. Please make her welcome!”

Her new neighbors took turns approaching her with warm greetings. One offered to get her a drink, taking the bottle of wine to go with the others. Each introduced themselves with a name and apartment number. They were all ages, and all very friendly.

“I just moved in as well, 4B. It’s nice to meet you,” said a nerdy looking guy in khakis and a button down with glasses. Cori shook his hand.

From behind, she felt a hand on her lower back. She turned and found herself face to face with sexy 6A, her underwear clad neighbor from moving day. At some point he’d gotten dressed – disappointing.

“Hey,” he said with that incredible smile.

“Hey,” she squeaked out.

“Now how didn’t I know you already met Colin,” said Cathy, laughing, and the group chimed in, cajoling Mr. Sexy.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he said, his face turning pink. “Can I help it if I’m friendly?”

“Friendly. Is that what they call it now?” said an older man with a laugh. He patted Colin on the back.

“Colin is our resident Casanova,” said another female resident, probably in her 30s. She gave him a bit of an eye roll and Cori wondered if they had a history.

“We met the day I moved in. He was saying goodbye to his girlfriend.”

There was a moment of silence, followed by raucous laughter.

“Girlfriend, that’s a good one,” the older man said, bending over he was laughing so hard.

Colin chuckled. “Hey, you don’t buy the first shirt you pull from the rack. You gotta try them on first, right? Gotta find the right fit.” There was a collective groan among the other tenants with a few giggles (mostly from the men).

Cori smiled. So he was too good to be true. Nothing that looked that good could be good for you. She’d guessed right.

“Cori, don’t let them get to you. I’m a heckuva nice guy. I look forward to being your neighbor.” He reached down and pulled her hand to him, kissing the back of it. Catcalls came from every direction.

“Don’t drink that Kool Aid Cori, you’ll be sorry.” It was the bitter lady from earlier. Yep, they definitely have a history.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll be a wonderful neighbor,” she said with a smile, and he returned it. Man, was this guy trouble.

She learned everyone’s name and they told her a little about themselves. She shared that she was starting a new job and had moved from her parents’ home, leaving out the part about getting cheated on, stepping into the path of a moving car and being brought back to life in a weird dream by a kiss from a hot guy that doesn’t exist. That might be a bit much for a first intro. Everyone was super friendly and welcoming. She enjoyed some food and chatted with her new neighbors.

“So, tell me about this new job.” Colin plopped down next to her on the couch where she sat. He casually slipped his arm behind her on the cushions.

She stiffened a little and sat forward. “I’ll be the personal assistant to a family friend in the city. Running errands, shopping, and helping her with a book that she’s writing. She also has a foundation so I’ll help her with fundraising events. That’s kind of my specialty.”

She made eye contact with him and was struck by his eyes – so blue. “Well, that sounds great,” he said, sounding only a little interested.

“What do you do?”

“I’m in a band. We play some of the bars here in the city.”

She smiled. Hmm, t-shirt and cargo shorts, Chucks with no socks, spikey hair, eating appetizers with no abandon – yep, definitely a starving musician.

“Cool, are you a cover band?”

“We do play some covers but we do a lot of original songs too. Got discovered by a label but something came up and we lost the chance to audition, but another shot will come along.”

“Wow, must’ve been something big to miss something like an audition for a record label.”

He pulled his arm from behind her and rubbed the back of his neck, the smile leaving his face. “Yeah, it sucked. But I refuse to believe it was our only shot. We’re too good not to get noticed.”

“Well, maybe what you lost with bad luck you can gain with confidence,” she said, a little snarky.

“Exactly! That’s the positive attitude I’m talking about!” He raised his hand to give her a high five and when their hands touched, a shock went through both of them. They both jumped. Cori felt heat flood her neck and face.

“Did I do that?” he said, staring at his hand.

“I don’t know, but if you did, that hand could light up the city,” she laughed.

He rubbed his hand. “What can I say, you turn me on.”

She groaned. “Really? Did you just say that?” They both laughed out loud.

She spent a little while longer, then said her goodbyes and made her way to the stairs. A girl was standing at Colin’s door, knocking and calling for him.

“He’s on the roof,” she said as she passed her.

“Oh,” said the girl, as Cori walked into her apartment.

After pouring herself a glass of wine and grabbing some cheese and crackers, she set about unpacking some more. She’d turned on some background music and was enjoying reminiscing over pictures and albums she was putting away. Things were great until she opened an unmarked album and was suddenly face-to-face with Matthew. Hikes they’d made, college parties, birthdays, nights out with friends – it was all there. She slowly paged through the photos and was overcome with sadness. The tears pooled and fell. She hadn’t healed at all. It was all as fresh as the night before her wedding.

There was a soft knock at her door. Probably chatty Cathy checking up on her. She closed the album and dabbed the tears from her eyes and headed towards the door. She wasn’t up for company so she cleared her throat and said softly, “Who is it?”

There was a pause, then softly, “Hey, it’s Colin.”

Shit. Now was not the time. “Hey Colin, I was headed to bed, can I catch up with you later?”

Another pause. “Uh, yeah, ok. I have something for you – no big deal. Good night.”

She undid all the locks but the chain and pulled the door open enough to peek out. She caught a look at him from behind – those long legs and a perfect round ass in just-right jeans. His hair came down to a little V on his neckline. The sound of the door made him turn. He was holding a cupcake in a blue cup with a daisy icing flower on top. He stepped toward the door and extended the cupcake to her. “For you,” he said with that crooked smile. His voice was deep and smooth as velvet. “I wanted to make sure you were ok after that electric high five.”

She felt like she might melt. His voice was so sexy, and those blue eyes. She couldn’t help it – every time she saw him, it took her breath away.

“Hold on.” She pushed the door closed and undid the chain, re-opening it a little more. She reached out and he came closer, handing her the cupcake.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

He studied her for a bit. She looked sad, as if maybe she’d been crying.

“You’re welcome. Look, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about me. I know everyone was joking around up there – well, maybe kind of joking – but I really am a good neighbor. I promise I’ll be on my best behavior. I’ll look out for you. Ok?”

She smiled, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Ok. Thank you Colin. I mean it.”

He shook his head and smile broadly. “Good night Cori. I’ll see you around.”

“Good night.”

She went back inside after locking the door, set the cupcake down on the table and walked straight to her bed. She was suddenly exhausted. She was awkward and broken and no fun. The hottest guy she’d ever met was entertaining all kinds of girls across the hall and she probably wouldn’t be one of them. Some fresh start this was.

[hi-i-love-u-bitch]

Azula the good sister AU (AKA the Fire siblings have a healthy relationship AU)

I’ve just finished binge watching Avatar the Last Airbender and I already have an AU ready in my head. Please enjoy my ridiculous rambling!

Azula is still really tough and intense but she isn’t a fucking psychopath like in the series

She’s still a bending prodigy and “daddy’s favorite” but the latter isn’t something she wanted or strived for

She shows affection by teasing people, but she is also fiercely loyal and protective over the people she cares about. Like she’s nice but she’ll still cut a bitch if they hurt her friends and brother.

As most siblings do Azula and Zuko like to playfully argue and insult each other:

Zuko: *having just woken up*

Azula: wow you look like shit

Zuko: big talk coming from a midget with rat nest hair

Azula: at least I only look like this in the morning, you willingly keep that rat tail on top of your head. No wonder you have no friends!

Zuko: oh yeah what’s your excuse then?

They’re the type of siblings that in a modern-day setting would send each other a picture of a toaster saying “I found you a new bath bomb”

She absolutely adores her older brother and Zuko took his role as older sibling in stride even if Azula could practically take care of herself

They’re great training partners

Their favorite memory as children was feeding turtle ducks with their mother, they still do so even now after she’s gone

When she overheard her grandfather ordering her father to kill Zuko she left to tell her mother immediately afterwards she snuck into Zuko’s room to cuddle with him in bed claiming that she’d had a nightmare.

Their mother came in to kiss them goodbye goodnight before disappearing into the night. Zuko had been half asleep so he had no idea what was going on but Azula did and she knew what her mother was about to do. She didn’t know what the outcome would be but she knew that it would be the last time she’d ever see her mother.

Azula never told Zuko what happened only that it was all their father’s fault

It was then they began mutually hating on their father

Of course, they had no choice but to respect him as he was still the Fire Lord and could possibly kill them. But as soon as he was out of ear shot the siblings were like:

Azula: Why the fuck did he think growing out his beard was a good idea???

Zuko: He looks like a goat-pig

Uncle Iroh treats them both as his own children and helps them perfect their fire bending as well as teach them the art of tea brewing. Zuko still thinks it’s stupid but Azula becomes just as much of a tea fanatic as her uncle

Azula has had a giant crush on Ty Lee ever since they were children and everyone, but Ty Lee knows about it. On the flip side Ty Lee also has a giant crush on Azula ever since childhood and everyone but Azula knows about it.

Azula: That's a sharp outfit, Ty Lee. Careful. You could puncture the hull of an empire-class Fire Nation battleship, leaving thousands to drown at sea, because it's so sharp.

Ty Le: *confused but happy that her crush complemented her* Gee thanks Zula.

Azula: *later, screaming into her pillow* I’m such an idiot!

Zuko: *sitting beside her, sipping tea* Yeah, you really are.

The day Zuko was challenged to Agni Kai Azula told him that he was an idiot and that he better kick that loser general’s ass or it would be an embarrassment to both their training. It was her own way of telling him to be careful and that she was rooting for him.

When she found out that it was her father challenging Zuko to Agni Kai she had to be held back by Iroh to keep her from jumping into the arena to help her brother

Azula was determined to join her brother in his banishment but Zuko wouldn’t allow her, saying how it was his fault for speaking out of term and that his sister shouldn’t have to suffer from his mistakes.

They had a big fight after that because the siblings were nothing if not hotheaded and stubborn. Zuko didn’t want his sister to leave all she knew behind just because of him and Azula didn’t want to be stuck doing nothing while her brother suffers alone.

They parted there days later, regretful, angry, and sad. They didn’t necessarily apologies (let’s be honest what kind of siblings apologies to each other) but they did start writing letters to each other, which was their way of saying that they were cool now.

Zuko wrote to her about his journey to find the Avatar as well as Uncle Iroh’s ridiculous jokes and tea ramblings while Azula wrote to him about how things are back home as well as potential places where the Avatar could be located.

Both aren’t sure if the Avatar even exists anymore, but they keep hoping as it means that they will one day be reunited with each other.

The day Zuko found the Avatar he entrusted only his sister with the information as he knew that once word got out that the Avatar was still alive it would be an all-out man hunt.

Everything works out relatively the same as in the series except with Azula helping out her brother in the background. She’d secretly send her brother information about general Zhao’s whereabouts so as to avoid him as well as any resources he needed for his journey.

When Ozai ordered Azula to go retrieve her brother and uncle she was both delighted and terrified; she was happy to see her brother again, but she didn’t want to take him as her prisoner. So of course, she came up with a plan.

The first thing Azula said to her brother after two and a half years apart was: “Wow, you look like shit.”

He replied without missing a beat: “Big talk coming from a midget with rat nest hair.”

They hug for the longest time and in that moment, she quietly resights her plan to him: They had to pretend to escape from her and go into hiding. She’ll pretend to hunt him down and he’ll somehow manage to escape from her clutches every time. All the while they’ll work together in trying to capture the Avatar.

She enlists the help of Mai and Ty Lee telling them the minimal amount of information just in case things go south they can plead manipulation. Of course, Mai and Ty Lee are ready to go down with their captain/friend no matter what, but they don’t mind being out of the loop for the time being. They trust Azula and know that everything she does is to help her brother and uncle.

The events leading up to the battle of Ba Sing Se are pretty similar up until the part where Zuko makes a choice between helping the Avatar or his kingdom. He’s realized the pain and terror his ancestors have installed in the world; tearing away hope for a better future.

Just as Azula was about to strike Aang with a finishing blow Zuko stops her, telling her what they’ve been doing is wrong and if they want the world to prosper, they need to help the Avatar.

Azula was a bit annoyed seeing as she went through the trouble of sneaking into Ba Sing Se and taking over the earth kingdom from the inside out. But then again, her brother was right as she already knew of her father’s end game plan.

Azula: Zuzu, I love you, but couldn’t you have told me we were going to rebel against father sooner so I could have planned accordingly.

Just as there are loyalist to the Fire Lord there are also loyalist to the Princess as they see her as a more fit leader than the current ruler. And thus, that is how team Avatar was able to get a good portion of the fire nation army on their side.

Ba Sing Se has now been established as their main base with the entire city now having chosen the side of the Avatar.

At this point Azula still had Suki and the Kyoshi warriors held prisoner close by so she was able to bring them back without much fuss.

Azula: Er, sorry for imprisoning you and stuff. I just needed to save my stupid brother but we’re on your side now. Cool?

Suki: Only if I get to punch you in the face as hard as I can.

Azula: That seems fair.

Katara does NOT trust Azula and Zuko which is fine because Azula doesn’t trust her either but she knows they need to work together if they want to even have a slim chance of beating her father.

Katara: You might have everyone else here buying your ‘transformation,’ but you and I both know you’ve struggled with doing the right thing in the past. So, let me tell you something right now. You make one step backward, one slipup, give me one reason to think you might hurt Aang, and you won’t have to worry about your destiny anymore. Because I’ll make sure your destiny ends right then and there. Permanently!

Azula: Right back attcha bitch!

Toph and Azula get along swimmingly which both amuses and terrifies Zuko because one: he’s glad that his sister is finally making somewhat normal friends but two: those two together is just chaos incarnate

Ty Lee also really bonds with the Kyoshi warriors who teach her some of their fighting techniques in exchanged for her teaching them some chi blocking moves.

Suki and Mai start getting cozy with each other with Suki liking Mai’s skills and straightforward attitude and Mai admiring Suki’s confidence and bravery. It’s easy to talk with each other.

Sokka, at one point: Why the hell don’t we just send the girls out to defeat the Fire Nation? We’re all completely useless compared to them.

Also after a few month working together Zuko can now join his sister in her gay screaming

Azula: Did you seriously fall for that Water Tribe boy?

Zuko: You’re one to talk!

Azula: Hey! Ty Lee is an angel and we’re all lucky to have her!

Zuko: She once ate a whole bowl of fire flakes by herself and had to get her stomach pumped.

Azula: Look, what Fire Nation teen hasn’t done that at least once

Zuko: She did it THREE times!

Once the siblings and Co finally bond well enough with team Avatar tension lessens and their attitude go from: “uhg, I guess we have to work together or whatever” to “you are my friend now and I would die for you! I would literally commit murder if you asked me to, no questions asked”

Aang is baby and the Fire squad has now joined in the “Aang protection army” and in a similar fashion team Avatar have also learned that Ty Lee is baby and have now joined the “Ty Lee protection squad”. Even though Aang and Ty Lee are perfectly capable of taking care of themselves one cannot help but want to protect and care for the literal ray of sun shines.

Zuko and Sokka still have their epic rescue adventure to the boiling rock, with the extra help of their team. They sneak into the facility with disguises, Azula and her crew walk in like they own the place (news of her betrayal to the Fire Lord has yet to reach certain places), while the rest of team Avatar keep watch from afar just in case things start going south.

You know that scene where Zuko gets put in the freezer and when Sokka goes to let him out Zuko breathes out a breath of fire with a smirk? It was then and there that Sokka realized that his teeny tiny crush on Zuko might actually be a giant massive crush.

In this AU it is actually Azula that helps Katara track down the man that killed her mother because let’s face it, no matter what universe she’s in Azula will always be down to beat a bitch is ass.

This is the first time Azula has ever witness somebody blood bending and unlike most people that would usually freak out she was actually really impress and kind of turned on.

Azula: You know if I weren’t already madly in love with Ty Lee, I’d ask you to marry me in a heartbeat.

Katara: And I would accept that offer if only for the pleasure of rubbing it in your dad’s face

Azula: Why didn’t we become friends sooner?!?!

It is then the Little Sister alliance was formed in which they teamed up to poke fun at their bumbling brothers who keep awkwardly dancing around each other.

Their friendship can be summed up to: “I will kill you where you stand but also I respect you”

Okay, Imma just say this right now: Sokka is a fucking badass and even after getting taught how to fight by the Kyoshi warriors and the Fire sibling + Co. he reached a whole new level of badassery once he learned the ways of the sword by Master Piandao. Zuko’s little gay heart could only take so much and Sokka being all cool and collected while wielding a sword made the former Fire Prince short-circuit.

Zuko, in his tent, face down screaming into his pillow: Uhg, I can’t with this boy anymore!

Suki, rolling her eyes at her best friend’s melodramatics: Pull yourself together man.

Ty Lee, patting his head reassuringly: Don’t worry, you’ll get through this.

Azula, sipping tea beside him: This wouldn’t be happening if you just asked him out already.

Zuko: Don’t you fucking start with me hypocritical bitch!

Azula: *nervous gay drinking*

The day of the final battle Azula and Katara lead Hakoda’s army plus the Kyoshi Warriors to reclaim the fire nation capital while Aang, Zuko, Sokka, and Toph chased after the Fire Lord and his war ships.

The battle to take back the capital was brutal as there was still an entire army keeping guard with one of the Fire Lord’s generals acting as temporary leader. Unfortunately for them Azula still had a reputation of fear amongst the Fire Nation army and a lot of soldiers surrendered once they realized it was her leading the invasion and not the Avatar. Those that didn’t surrendered were defeated in battle because let’s be honest with a team this fierce there is no way in hell they couldn’t not win.

There’s also a scene where Azula is fighting off the general and a bunch of soldiers and it seems like she’s not gunna make it but she does, bloody and bruised but victorious. I imagen in that moment Ty Lee goes running up to Azula, jumps into her arms, and kisses her right then and there, while they’re still in the middle of battle. It’s super cool and romantic and it seemed to give Azula more energy than Sozin’s comet ever could as she seemed now ready to defeat god.

Azula: Y’all bitches be fucked now! I ain’t afraid to die but now that I gotta girlfriend I’m not going nowhere fuckers!

With Aang and his team it goes about the same as it did in the show; take down the ships, battle the Fire Lord, almost die, etc. That scene where Sokka thinks that Suki died on the aircraft is now replaced with Zuko almost dying then coming back to save their asses at the late minute. They too also kiss once they see that the other is unharmed while Toph rolls her eyes and gags at the sight.

Again, Aang does not kill the Fire Lord and instead takes away his fire bending powers before locking him in prison to rot. The fire siblings come by sometimes to annoy the shit out of him by flicking fire flakes at his head for target practice or psychologically torture him with excruciating detail of how they’ve been thoroughly fucked by their significate others in is bed and on his thrown.

Zuko: How’s it feel knowing that not only are both your kids gay but they’re also bottoms?

Ozai: *screams*

Azula: Ty Lee also fucked me atop your war room table :)

Ozai: *screams intensify*

In the end Zuko really doesn’t want to be Fire Lord so he happily passes that torch on to Azula who only agrees to take the job so long as Zuko becomes her second in command. Everyone is happy and with a lot of hard work throughout the years there is finally peace amongst the four nations.

[apples-r-rubbish]

Institute (13th Doctor x reader) Part 8 (FINAL)

Summary: Gallifrey. The end. Word count: 2.5k AN: Final part, thank so much for all the love and support on everything. I never expected this or anything remotely close to this. Thank you! feel free to stick around to see what I have coming next- got a few 11 things planned. Hope you enjoy -Leo x Warnings: Violence, death Tags: @penguinwithitsarseonfire​ @startrekkingaroundasgard​

(PART 1) (PART 2) (PART 3) (PART 4) (PART 5) (PART 6) (PART 7) MASTERLIST

Gallifrey was warm. The air hung around you, hot and heavy. Everything was burning. 

“You’re late,” The master growled “I looked into it you should’ve been here 3 hours ago,”

“The last time I checked I was still alive, nice try,” You smirked. He handcuffed you.

“Just so you don’t get any ideas, and because you dropped yourself off here, we’ve got a long walk. I can’t believe you screwed up your own execution” He pulled the vortex manipulator off your wrist and proceeded to stomp on it, severing your final lifeline. He grabbed you by the face, his rough fingers digging into your skin “I can’t wait to watch her face, as the light leaves your eyes,” He mumbled, dropping his hand suddenly, before yanking your arm, guiding you forward. The panic had then hit you. You were going to die and the Doctor was going to watch, you tried to pull against him, tried to run. Cursing and screaming. The Master’s grip only got tighter, you were crying in pain, trying desperately to pull away. Nothing was working. 

“Look, you can make this easier for you, or harder,” He said, pulling out the Tissue Compression device. So you walked. It could have been hours or moments, time seemed to bend around you. There was a weird glowing patch ahead of you, “We’re going through there when we see her. I need to prove to her I’m serious and that you’re bait,”

“Why did you destroy it?” You asked, monotone, you were not allowing him to win.

“Nothing to with you, humans, want to stick their noses into everyone’s business,”

“I’m about to die, it’s not like I have anyone to tell,” You argued

“Do you expect sympathy? None of them were shown any, and they actually belonged here. More than you can say considering you’re a walking corpse,” He hissed “and shut up will you.” 

 Something moved behind the portal, and speaking could faintly be heard. Without warning you were pulled to your feet, and pushed into it. The ground on the other side of the portal was rock and you discovered that, by falling nearly face first into it. The Master followed behind you closely, pulling you back up aggressively by the shoulder. 

“Now that was a good entrance, right? Right?” He nudged you as he spoke, trying desperately to gain a reaction from you“You should be afraid, everything is about to change,” He growled “Take my hand,” 

“Never, give me back (Y/N),” She hissed

“Not happening. I could just kill her on the spot and drag you through the boundary kicking and screaming after killing all your other little humans too. She’s going to die anyway, why can’t it be here?” He threatened, his tone of voice surprisingly calm

“Ok, fine, I’ll come with you but you hurt anyone of them and I won’t hesitate. I’ll be back soon, don’t worry,” 

“She won’t. Good luck, c’mon (Y/N),” He yanked your arm forward as the three of you crossed the boundary “Look upon my work Doctor, and despair,”

“Why did you do this? Why are you dragging (Y/N) into this? She doesn’t deserve it,” The Doctor questioned

“Not telling you,” He laughed “Well, I’ll tell you a little. Her death is a fixed point, and you’ve kept putting it off. I want to further the plans so to speak, keep everything ticking over. Also because I want to watch you suffer, for everything you’ve ever done,” 

“If you so much as hurt her I’ll-” 

The master cut her off “You’ll what? Kill me? Please. You couldn’t even hurt me when I tried to kill you on that plane. I’m your worst friend, your best enemy, she’s a human. She’ll die anyway.”

You just watched as they argued, you couldn’t run because you’d die faster, he’d just kill you from behind, you couldn’t stay because the master would kill you eventually so you just froze.You dared not cut into the conversation,you felt like child watching two adults fight and you were powerless to stop it.  You went dizzy, the weight of the situation heavy again, The doctor went to steady you, “No! You’re not going anywhere near her. Citadel. now,” 

The room was large, with various platforms around the room, You were dragged onto a smaller one, and the Doctor stepped onto a larger one, light beams curving around her. She hissed in pain, you went to run to her, you shin was met with a weighty kick. You fell to the ground, huffing. 

“Aw, what a sweet moment that would have been. But I think it’s time we begin now,” He growled, you grabbed your neck aggressively pulling you to your feet “any final words?” 

“I forgive you, you will blame yourself for this but I forgive you. Always and completely. I was bound to get caught up in this, the institute was never safe. I love you, don’t let this break you.” You spoke, directed all towards the Doctor.

“I do hate to break up a couple, but I have plans I’m afraid,” The Master smirked. You blinked. Reality slowed. There was pain. A sharp pain. An involuntary gasp. Pain. And so much blood. Pain. You fell to your knees first, then backwards. Pain. You couldn’t hear the screams of the Doctor or the laughs of the Master, only the fading heartbeat in your chest and shallow breaths.You could vaguely see her crying. Your vision blurred as you mumbled one final silent wish to the universe, ‘Keep her safe’.

You were gone. Another death on that distant planet.

Grey enveloped the Doctor. Ruth appeared in front of her.

“Oh great more traps and tricks. The matrix is deciding to mess with me again?” She huffed.

“You summoned me here, this isn’t the matrix,” Ruth replied “I understand it as much as you do.” Her voice was clear and not unkind when she spoke. “Where do you fit into this? Who are you? Are you my past? Or are you my future?”

“I don’t have the answers. Would it help you if I did? That doesn’t change who we are,” Ruth responded

“I mean yes it would-” She blinked. You now stood in front of her replacing Ruth,

“When have you ever been limited by who you were? When have you ever let it stop you?” She looked as if she’d been slapped, she simply wanted to memorise every detail of your face, before it faded and she had to come to terms with everything. 

“I can’t talk. I'm tired. I want to sleep, the field is taking the energy out of me,” She said drifting slightly. 

“Now’s not the time to be tired, old man. You know that. People have died, the city is burning, and you’ve left your friends,”

“I don’t know how to stop him,” She began, she wanted to walk towards you but she couldn’t the field holding her in place, “I've already lost you, who cares about the city? Who cares about anything else?”

“You can and will. Be who you always are, old man. Blow their minds. Be the Doctor,” You whispered “Think of me, from time to time though.” She remembered everything, meeting you, the institute, the cybermen, the trips to far flung planets, your smile, your friendships, your kindness. You.

“I love you, old man,” You pressed a final gentle kiss to her forehead. The field broke sending light everywhere. 

The Doctor was awoken to her friends standing over her and asking if she was alright.  

“Where is she? Where’s (Y/N)?” She asked her throat sore

“Doc, there’s no one else here? We figured the Master had taken her with him, if he hadn’t you know-” Graham responded panic creeping into his voice. She pulled herself to her feet quickly, the world merging into a mess of shapes. Your body had vanished. Time for a plan. 

“Live great lives,” The Doctor said as she backed out of the TARDIS and ran down a corridor. There the master stood cyber timelords circled around him. “I definitely said no plus ones. Where is she?” 

“What do you mean? I left her to rot. I thought it would nice to have a new world start with the blood of a human. A species you're so fond of, especially that one,” The master laughed “The cyberium lives in me now. I’ve won, broken you down”

“You think you've broken me? You'll have to try harder than that. You've given me a gift. Of myself. You think that could destroy me? You think that makes me lesser? It makes me more.” She hissed pulling out the detonator “I contain multitudes more than I ever thought or knew. You want me to be scared of it because you're scared of everything. But I am so much more than you. You took her from me and that’s where you’re wrong, I have nothing left to lose!” As she shouted, the master kneeled, pressing his head against the detonator “Do it, I want the universe to suffer because of you.”

The older man burst through the door, rambling about how he needed to do it and how she needed to go. She tried to argue and failed. The Doctor ran, stole a tardis and made it to safety. As she always did. 

It had been a handful of years since your death. The doctor had dipped in and out of time stream, taking you on dates to relive your time together. She dared to not visit Ryan, Yaz and Graham, they’d ask and she wouldn’t have answers. She sat in the cold tardis, fiddling with the controls as she tended to do now. No one to ramble to other than her ship. Electricity fizzed once again in the air, you materialised near the entrance of the ship. The TARDIS seemed colder than usual, emptier.

“What? Are you doing here?” She asked clearly shocked to see you

 “It dropped me off here- wait, damn, the ring,” You tapped the co-ordinates back into the vortex manipulator before disappearing and reappearing again in front of her.  

“So I’m being haunted now, I just dropped you off home after Cinter - purple planet sky, massive moon,” She explained

“I knew that was the wrong order,” You laughed “Not haunted. Hasn’t happened yet, for me, still on my deathbed, running late, I think, the coordinates keep switching,” 

“You’ll be fine. I’d prefer it if you were late, or even better, didn’t show up to it,”

“Where do I end up and who does it?” 

“It’s on Gallifrey, I presume you can figure the coordinates out. I tried to stop him, I tried,”

“Shhh it’s ok” You held her in your arms pressing a kiss to her forehead, tears welling in both of your eyes

“I saw bits of it twice,” She explained, she was crying now, at the long past memories for her.

“You know it’s a fixed point, I don’t know why you had to go to it twice, that’s weird even for you,” You laughed trying to calm her down

“The TARDIS dropped me off there. Not my idea of fun. Fixed point your death, and she’s drawn to it for some reason, maybe to keep me out of trouble,”

“She was always fond of me, even then,” You laughed, fingers spread on the console, “you know what they say about grief, you need to see things from a different perspective,”

“What do you mean?”

“I think I’ve worked it out- A message from her. This is why she prefers me,” You took her hand “My death is a fixed point, see it from a new perspective,” 

She froze, as you tapped at the time travel device “I love you, old man, and I’m sorry.” You whispered, unable to speak in a volume higher than that, you finally let go of her hand. 

“I love you-” She began. She didn’t finish the sentence before you had vanished from in front of her. The Doctor considered your words for a moment. For the first time in a long time she smiled. “So a new perspective, death, she just has to die,” She swung around to the otherside of the TARDIS pressing more buttons and flicking switches. 

Her tardis was in the citadel, one of the rooms that had been abandoned by the master, stuck in the state of murder. The Doctor’s breath caught in her throat; she did not want to be here. It came flooding back to her amongst the maze of corridors the unknowing the gut feeling of unknowing. She was running up the stairs, running to you. The only certainty left. Rounding the corner she saw you; what was left of you. She saw herself, her face distorting in pain within the truth field, unaware of the events outside it. As gently as she could, she picked up your body, she heard footsteps, the fam. She left the room as quickly as she could. 

The TARDIS welcomed her, encouraging noises coming from the console. She set off before anything else, she couldn’t have the risk of the others seeing her. You lay on the floor, pale, lips parted. If she didn’t know better she would have assumed you were sleeping. A glowing light slipped from her fingers, she gently placed her hand against your cheek, one final loving gesture, “I can’t lose you again. Come back to me, I love you,” She mumbled. There was a second. It felt like a thousand years. The Doctor held her breath the whole time, unable to move, solely focussing on you. Your chest rose slightly. You were breathing

You were kept in the medical bay and you finally woke up after three painfully long days. You wandered into the TARDIS console room, encouraging bleeps and bloops coming from her. 

“What happened? Did we damage the timeline?” Was all you managed to get out before you were tackled to the floor by a strong overwhelming hug. 

“You’re ok, you’re safe, I think I fixed it, you’re ok,” She mumbled into you

“Did I?” You asked the situation blurry

“Yes. I brought you back, I just need to know you’re ok,” 

“I’m fine, not a scratch on me, feeling the best I have felt in a while actually,” You were laughing now unable to contain the happiness you felt when you saw her. You stayed like that for a while, lying on the TARDIS floor a mixture of laughing and crying. 

“Travel with me, please,” She asked, her hand in your hair she asked, still lying next you.

“Of course I will. I’ll quit at the institute. I think it’s about time I took a step back. No more institute, time I lived a life rather than reading one.” You were pulled to your feet, and guided to the console by her, your ringless hand held within hers. She typed in coordinates, and pressed a few buttons “So, you can do the honours,” The Doctor pointed you towards the main switch. You grabbed her hand and placed it onto the switch with yours pulling it down, “We’re doing this. First stop - victorian England. Finally synced Together.”

[fantasticstoryteller]

New Amsterdam Chapter 182

The sky began to darken. The child stepped forward—and a web connected with the child’s back and yanked her away. “You okay?”

Dark yellow eyes met his. “You are interrupting,” the child informed him.

Peter wasn’t really paying attention as he watched Angel and the other girl circle each other. “Yeah, well I think that’s going to get you killed,” he said absently.

“That’s the point.” Peter yelped as the girl leaned forward and sank two fangs into his arm. He shuddered as cool liquid poured into his blood. He let go of the kid as he pressed a hand to the bite. What had she injected into him? Was he going to need to try and drain the stuff out?

“I take it big you hasn’t told you that doesn’t work on people like us.” Peter looked up to see that Angel had caught the girl and was holding her. She looked up at Peter. “Don’t worry,” she told him. “It’ll sting for a while, but won’t do anything else.”

The eyes of the child narrowed. “Why not?” she demanded.

Peter didn’t really expect Angel to answer. She did. “Because,” she said as she gestured between herself and Peter, “we’re already part spider.” She gently set the kid on the ground and shrugged. “You can’t change something that’s already there.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“It’s true.” Angel dropped to where she was on level with the child. Her body language was soft and caring, as though she didn’t want to frighten the child. “There are more people than you think in the world.”

“People,” snarled the child with a viciousness that made Peter flinch. “People are monsters that hurt kids.”

“That’s right.” The girl that Angel had quit fighting moved to them. The girl smiled grimly, her short hair flying in the wind around them.

Was it Peter’s imagination, or had the temperature dropped a few degrees?

“There are some people that are monsters,” Angel admitted. “Some people the world is really better off without. But,” Angel added firmly, “there are also people who care. People who will help you. Who will understand you.”

Laughter from the girl behind Angel. “There is no one who will understand,” she said dismissively.

Angel whirled, wings mantling protectively over the child. “You never gave anyone a chance,” she said. One foot slid slightly behind the other and Peter recognized a fighting stance.

She was trying to protect the child. A child who wanted to die. Why did the child want to die?

The other girl narrowed her eyes at Angel. Peter realized that her eyes were the same shade of yellow as that of the child. “Oh? Are you telling her that she can find ‘a caring home’?” the girl asked mockingly. “Where she’ll be loved and cherished? Please.” The girl glared at Angel. “That doesn’t happen.”

Angel didn’t move from her position, keeping the child behind her. “You didn’t give them a chance, Adriana,” she said firmly.

The girl, Adriana, scoffed. “They shipped me out. As soon as my mutation appeared, to a place that would ‘cure they’re precious daughter.’”

“They didn’t know,” Angel protested As he listened to the two of them argue, something clicked.

This wasn’t just about Angel trying to reign in a threat to the universe. This wasn’t just about one girl trying to take over a world, any world, and change it into a paradise fit only for herself. This was about Angel trying to save her friend from making a horrible, inconceivable mistake. About trying to change the person she was talking to.

Peter could relate. He’d done the same thing before. Sometimes, like with Wade, it worked. Sometimes, like with Norman, it backfired beyond belief and made things even worse. Looking between the two girls Peter could only think that this was one of the situations where things would be worse.

Angel didn’t even flinch as one of the monsters reared up beside Adriana’s lithe form. It moved to attack—only to be blasted back by a repulser beam. Angel reared up, one wing somehow bending almost backwards to shelter the child behind her as she screamed, “Don’t kill it!”

“Like you’ve ever cared.” Adriana’s face was a mask of anger as more monsters flocked towards the fallen one and carried it away. “You’ve killed more of my pretties than anyone else.”

“I didn’t realize that they were still people,” Angel said. “That you’d trapped them inside their own minds to control them. Do you even know what you’ve done?”

Adriana grinned. “They’re better this way,” she said firmly. She began to walk towards Angel while Peter reached for the kid again. Angel was right; they had to get the child out of there, and quickly. “Just like my brother was.”

“You made your brother eat your parents,” Angel hissed.

“They deserved it. You know what they did after I finally got home from that living nightmare? They told me they were sending me away again. Never to go to school, or be a stain on their little perfect lives.”

“That’s not how it was,” Angel protested.

Peter gently grabbed the child, who shrieked. Rage engulfed Adriana’s face once again as a horde of monsters came for them. Peter shot out a web and yanked to pull both himself and the child out of harm’s way.

Clint was on the roof. Peter vaguely remembered that Clint was a father and that if anyone would know how to handle a screaming, fighting child, it would be this man. He handed the child to him. “Keep her safe!” he ordered

“You’re going to ruin it!” screamed the girl as Clint tucked her close to his side allowing her to swing her feet. “The world was going to be pretty!”

Peter looked at her and wished his mask was as expressive as Deadpool’s. “It’s not good enough,” he said grimly, “if it means you have to die for it.” He looked up at Clint who was staring at the child with wary fascination. “Don’t let her bite you.”

Clint nodded. “Got it. Come on, Kid,” he said as he turned and began to run away. The little girl screamed with thwarted rage as the hero carried farther and farther from the point of battle.

Peter turned and looked back down at the battle below him. Angel was carefully fending off monsters, knocking them to the side without hurting them. Remembering her words about them still being people, Peter started webbing them to things. To the buildings. To the street. To each other. They were strong enough to break the buildings and street—but not his webs, and not each other.

Or maybe Adriana wouldn't allow them to hurt each other.

Peter had to admit that, for a heinous criminal that wanted to destroy and take over the world, Adriana did seem to stick to her morals of keeping those who had turned into creatures safe, as much as possible. As much as he and Angel did.

Adriana was standing a little ways away from Angel as the monsters swarmed her and Peter tried, desperately, to help. The sky was still turning black. The clouds that had formed were still churning. Little bolts of lightning were piercing the sky—but there was no accompanying thunder. He was trying not to freak out about that.

A blue, red, and white blur caught his attention out of the corner of his eye and he turned to see—Ben, in the spider suit that Angel had made for him while he’d been captured. Adriana’s hand came up almost negligently and Ben was about to run right into it—but Angel was suddenly there, taking the blow.

It looked like a light, glancing blow—but it flung Angel out towards the rest of the city.

If that blow had hit Peter, it would have severely injured him. Probably broken bones and other things his healing factor would have fought hard to keep him alive through. If it had hit Ben—Ben would have died.

Peter raced over to where Ben was as Adriana lightly hopped onto the back of one of her mind-controlled monsters. “You can’t escape from me that easily,” she told the other girl as she headed towards the city, ignoring Peter and Ben.

Ben was panting hard and Peter would bet that under the mask the robot’s eyes were wide and frightened. “How are we going to beat her?” he demanded.

Peter frowned. “We need a plan.”

“Someone call for a plan?” The two of them turned to see Iron Man, floating in the air beside them.

The beginnings of a plan began to tickle at Peter’s brain.