#chapter one hundred and twenty eight

[renee-writer]

Out of Time Chapter One Hundred and Twenty -eight

AO3

“You think we will ever be safe?” Charlie asks Danny. They are walking behind Jenny. He carries Maggie, drowsily resting against his back. Ian moves ahead of his mam and baby brother with Asha following Jenny

 

“I pray so. For you, her, and them.” He nods to the others.

 

“Not yourself?” She walks on the edge of the deserted roadway. The buzz of bees follow them as they make their way through the growing weeds.

 

“I don’t know that I deserve peace. After all, I was part of all this.”  He includes the overgrowth they are drudging through, the unnatural stillness, the whole humanity ‘s end vibe.

 

“A part but, like Asha, you aren’t anymore. Everyone makes bad choices.”

 

His laugh is sharp. “Bad choices, we bloody well tried to destroy the world. I believe that is more than just a bad choice.”

 

“Right. It just seems,” She steps into the road at reaching a particular large crop of weeds, “to much to take in, you know. To overwhelming. The scope of it. Here,” She points to the empty roadway stretching into the horizon, “is hard enough to fathom. The thought of a world full of the same, it like, is just to much.”

 

He nods. His son will never know a world full of people, nor will his son, or his. How many centuries will pass before the world is whole again. She is right, it is overwhelming.

 

“See, how can I seek peace with all that…?”

 

 

“Because you are here with us, trying to do all you can to make it right.”

 

“Thank you Charlie.” Maggie sighs, settling against him as she falls asleep. Maybe it is enough. He can only move on from here.

[iniquitousyearning]

MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter Twenty Eight--Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

Tags: 18+, SMUT, Rough Sex, Slapping (for sexual titillation), Dirty Talk, Multiple Orgasm, Overstimulation, GUNPLAY, Outdoor Sex, Gagging, Choking, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink, ANGST ANGST ANGSTTTTTTT!!!!! GET THE TISSUES OUT!

FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.

In the aftermath of your heartfelt confession, the ambiance shifted beneath the curtain of rain. Mattheo's initial warmth, which had enveloped the moment, began to withdraw, slowly being replaced by his usual guarded demeanor.

Tension, thick and tangible, emanated from him, as if he yearned to retract, to voice a refusal. The gaze that had once been soft, akin to melted chocolate, now bore a stark reluctance. It was as though the vulnerability you had glimpsed moments earlier had transformed into a protective shield, guarding him against the intensity of the unexpected revelation.

Undeterred, you pressed forward, defying the cooling atmosphere with a resolute step. Your hands, a gentle insistence against the encroaching frost, found their place on his face. Amidst the rhythmic percussion of springtime raindrops, your eyes held an unbroken contact, mirroring the pounding cadence of your heart. A silent gaze held him in place, allowing the weight of your words to permeate the space before you spoke again.

"Don't say anything," you whispered, the words borne on the breath of the rain-soaked air, a plea to let the unspoken emotions settle in the delicate stillness between you two. "You've said so much, Mattheo...you've shared so much with me...I don't need you to say another word...just...just listen,"

Mattheo blinked, the subtle motion accompanied by the quiet working of his throat as he swallowed. His hands, hanging at his sides, remained still as yours maintained their firm grasp on his face. An almost imperceptible nod from him prompted you to inhale sharply, capturing the breath in your lungs.

"Perhaps I lied to you..." you began, your voice soft, tender. "Perhaps I wasn't being truthful when I said I never believed in destiny...because in a way, I do...but I also believe that we are only destined to do the things we'd choose to do anyway..."

A pause ensued as you studied his countenance, your gaze tracing the scars on his skin and taking note of his perfect imperfections that shaped the essence of who he is.

"And I'd choose you, Mattheo...in a hundred fucking lifetimes, in a hundred different realities, I would choose you...every fucking time..." you declared, your grip on him intensifying. Your hands trembled, mirroring the tremor in your voice. "I don't care about your history, I don't care about any of the bad things you've done...everything you've been through has made you who you are...and I am fucking in love with who you are...every single part of you...your smart mouth, your cheeky smirk, every line and every scar..."

Drawing him nearer, you gently guided him until his forehead found solace against yours. His hands discovered the curve of your waist, pulling you into an embrace that emanated urgency, a profound need to absorb every syllable you uttered, each word a testament to the depth of emotions shared between you.

"Your skin, absent of its scars, would be like a sky without stars," you murmured, your shared breaths blending in the intimate proximity. "I didn't fall in love with you; I fucking walked into love with you--with my eyes wide open, deliberately choosing every step along the way. Everything you've revealed changes nothing, Matty...I love you, utterly and unequivocally."

A profound silence enveloped the space, and time seemed to elongate into a suspended realm, each passing moment an eternity. His eyes, a tumultuous storm of unexpressed feelings, gently fluttered closed, his lips parting as his breaths, once steady, now took on a rhythm almost akin to panting--a visceral manifestation of the emotions swirling within.

His hands, deliberate in their motion, traversed the landscape of your back, ascending with a sense of purpose. As they reached your head, his fingers, fueled by a desperate urgency, found purchase, gripping your face with a fervor that spoke volumes. In this charged atmosphere, his eyes, concealed behind closed lids, hinted at the vulnerability beneath the stoic exterior. The suspended moment begged for release, aching for the words that lingered on the precipice.

"Say it again..." his murmured request, laden with longing, reverberated through the charged air. "I just-"

"I love you," you said, the words firmer this time, your hands threading behind his head, fingers entwining in his soaked hair. "I love you..."

His jaw tensed, and he released a shaky breath--his eyelids fluttering, the grip on your skull tightening. "Again."

"I love you," you repeated, your voice gaining strength, fingers digging into his scalp as though you could force the words through. "I fucking love you, Mattheo Riddle."

Breaths intermingled, and your grips on each other surpassed the hold of any chains or restraints. In the pulsating intensity, your minds spun with a whirlwind of thoughts. Was there a sweeter arrangement than this? He gets to ask you, over and over to repeat it--while you get to tell him, over and over, that you mean it.

Your nails dug into his scalp, foreheads pressing together with an almost painful force. "I thought it would be impossible to ever find someone...to ever be with someone, when beneath my surface of composure, I'm scattered in a million different pieces--like a puzzle with missing parts..." you paused, lips softly grazing his. "But then you showed me that every piece doesn't have to be in place to create something beautiful...something real...that love can exist in the most imperfect, lost, broken people."

A guttural noise escaped him, resonating low in his throat as his fingers dug into your skin, cradling your head.

You inhaled a shallow breath before you continued, "and I promise you, my love will be just as strong, just as beautiful, whether you, too, are in a thousand pieces, or just one.”

Mattheo, completely struck silent, locked eyes with your parted lips. In perfect synchrony, your gaze met his, and in that silent exchange, there was a mere gasp of air before his mouth was on yours. The passion between your bodies ignited into an unbridled inferno, refusing any attempt at restraint. His kiss was a slippery bruise, melding madness at your skin, tongue driving into you while he inhaled through his nose. You met him, movement for movement, groaning against him, fingers folding further into his hair, thumbs tracing the tops of his ears, and he groaned against your lips before capturing them again,

The kiss was unlike any before--a fervent blaze spiraling out of control, unwilling to be subdued for even a moment longer. His lips met yours with an intensity that felt almost primal; a hungry, desperate fusion of raw emotion and longing. His hands cradled your head with a force that hinted at an uncontainable desire, making you wonder if he sought to meld your very essence. The cool droplets of rain cascaded around you, soaking your skin to the bone, but you couldn't find it in you to care.

"I need you, princess..." he whispered, parting from the kiss, his hands gliding down your back as his lips found the curve of your neck. "But you already knew that, didn't you? Pretty girl..."

Your eyelids fluttered in response, fingers tightly grasping his hair, a desperate grip that mirrored the intensity of his kisses trailing down your neck. Your lip found refuge between your teeth as his mouth explored the path of rain cascading along your skin.

"My tainted little angel," he murmured, his words a provocative caress against your ear. "Crushingly beautiful...tender like a bruise..."

His hands, firm and insistent, sought the curves of your hips, fingers grasping at the wet fabric of your dress, tugging it upwards along your thighs. "You were the first sin actually worth hurting for...had me wrapped around your little finger before you even fucking touched me..."

You throbbed, a full-body pulse, humming into him with a shudder, Mattheo's lips moved back to yours, nipping at your lower lip before sliding to your chin, following the streams on your skin as he pressed clumsy, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, falling to suck and nibble at your heartbeat. Whimpering, you nuzzled your head into his, and he responded with a sharp bite to your neck, barely-restrained, earning a squeal from your throat.

"I told myself I was fine...that I was better off alone...never needed anyone, never wanted anyone...but then you came around, and after all this fucking time, after everything I put you through...it's still you, it's you who fucking believes in me..." he murmured against your skin. “You mean so fucking much to me…and when I finally admitted to that myself, when I finally let myself feel…you made me better, and I don't mean from being my tutor...you just made me want to be better...fuck, Raven...I wanted you to look at me the way you looked at the stars...I wanted to get better grades for you…I quit drinking and drugs because I wanted to be a better man for you..."

As he lifted your dress beyond your hips, your hands eagerly joined the movement, gathering the fabric's hem and peeling it over your head. His eyes traversed over every inch of newly exposed flesh, absorbing the sight with an intensity that spoke volumes. You observed as he swiftly shed his suit jacket, stripping the soaked fabric from his frame and laying it on the ground. His hands deftly moved to undo his belt, discarding his gun in the process. Returning a firm grip on your hips, he crashed his mouth back to yours, a relentless hunger igniting the kiss.

Moaning, you writhed into his chest, and he gripped your face, nails scraping your scalp while he pulled you closer, groaning into you, leaning--you followed him, chasing his kiss until you were both on the ground; him on his back, your legs straddling him, palms planted on his chest.

"I’ve had some, then most of you...all, and then none of you..." a soft, anxious breath escaped his throat, and he swirled his tongue over yours before biting your lip and pushing you up, hands settling on your thighs, rocking you back and forth over his thick erection, covered only by the thin fabric of his boxers. "I-I can't lose you again...it's you...it's fucking always been you..."

"Oh, Gods..." your voice cracked, emotion bubbling in your chest, threatening to spill out as you rolled your hips against him. He watched you, panting in rhythm with you, and you admired him--how fucking beautiful he was--his eyes stark with need, his mouth parted in open anticipation, his muscles tensing as he gripped and squeezed you, jerking his hips into your heat. "You won't...you fucking can't..."

Rain bathed you both, rivers roaming over your curves, white cloth of your bra a dewy illusion over your breasts. His thumbs skimmed your nipples with prickles of pleasure, and you moaned, head falling back on your shoulders. As if the sound awakened something inside him, he gripped your hips, flipping the two of you around until you were on your back beneath him, lips instantly moving to your neck, sucking at your throat.

You slid your hands under his shirt, savoring the firm contours of his body. He tensed, a low groan escaping into the intimate space between you, while his hips pressed against you with a force that seemed intent on melding you with the forest floor. Your fingertips traced the hard muscles, memorizing the damp, heated feel of his skin. In his voracious pursuit, he exhibited no restraint, extracting painful hickeys from the pulse at your neck.

The heat of desire surged between your thighs, and he moved lower, marking you with unrestrained passion. Tissue yielded to the pressure of his teeth, welts blooming under the fervent touch of his lips. Anxiety flickered through your mind as visible evidence of his ardor emerged, but the soft groan escaping his chest erased any concerns. Your back arched, willingly offering more of your untamed flesh to his insistent exploration. Grateful, he bit at the swell of your tits, crimson crescents blooming, and his hands moved to your underwear as he laved at your nipple through your bra, scraping it with his teeth through the fabric.

Mattheo fumbled at your folds, two thick fingers peeling you open, assessing your slickness, teasing your entrance. "Still so fucking wet for me..." he murmured, clucking his tongue. "And in the middle of the fucking forest...you'd take my cock anywhere I wanted, hm?"

You bit your lip, trying to grind against his hand. "What can I say...watching you use that gun did something to me..."

"Naughty, naughty girl..." he leaned to your ear, thumb skating your clit--you gasped. "Weren't you ever told to stay away from the asshole, weapon wielding bad boys?"

"Perhaps," you hissed through a moan as Mattheo pushed two fingers inside you--your walls tightening around him, hips twitching, head lolling against his soaked jacket. "Though I've never been good at following orders."

Mattheo huffed. "I'd say."

His mouth consumed you with a fervor, tracing a path of rich violet marks from your chin down to your clavicle, his spit mingling with the rain. Scissoring you open, he rolled your stiff clit, rocking his wrist, curling and working your walls, his other hand palming at his erection in an attempt to pacify himself. You bucked your hips, a shivering moan escaping, and he cursed, slamming in to the knuckle.

"If I fuck you now," he muttered at your jawline, "you'll have to take all of me. Everything I give you." He bit your neck, hard, forcing a cry from your lips. "I won't be able to control myself."

Heat scorched you, and you pulsed around him in anticipation, his fingers crooking in your wet core. Thunder grumbled in the distance. "Thought I'd long proved my capability."

Mattheo purred, and bit you again, pain shooting through you. "Earlier doesn't count, we were rushing...I need to wreck this tight little cunt...I'll fuck you harder and deeper than any of those assholes could ever fucking dream of..."

You shuddered, meeting his eyes. "Do your worst."

Snarling, he leaned back onto his knees, tore his fingers from your core and stuffed them in your mouth; you whinged in surprise, working to suckle them clean. Mattheo's free hand unleashed his dick, twitching eagerly despite its thick, heavy length. He jammed his hand to the back of your throat, and you gagged before he depressed your tongue, prying open your jaw.

"You know how this works." His gaze locked onto you, and the sky seemed to ignite with lightning around him. "Beg for it."

When he released you, you gasped into the rain. "Please, fuck me."

In the blink of an eye, his hand struck you, unleashing a spray of saliva from your parted lips. "That was pathetic," he snickered. "I fucking said beg."

Your face burned--humiliation, shock, and most importantly: desire. If this is what he meant, you wanted more. "Why don't you fucking make me?"

"There's that dirty mouth..." Mattheo smirked, shifting as he reached for his gun, gripping it with his free hand while the other stroked his cock. Before you could process it, he brought the barrel toward your temple, pressing the cold, wet metal against your skull. "Last fucking chance, princess...if you don't beg for my cock I'll fuck you so hard you'll be begging for mercy instead."

A whirlwind of shame and yearning left your head spinning, the likely instigators of your brief lapse into temporary insanity. "I'm not scared of you, Riddle..."

“Oh, princess.” His smirk grew. "You should be."

Adjusting the gun, he compelled the barrel past your lips, the icy metal coating your tongue. His other hand delved into your hair, gripping your soaked strands tightly as he forcefully drove the gun deeper into your throat. Then, without warning, he broke you open, splitting your core with a deep, harsh thrust, head slamming your cervix. You cried out against the weapon, body recoiling in pain, hands moving to his hips, and he shook you in reprimand.

"Oh, no--don't fucking bother." He drove his palm into your head, his nails scratching your scalp. "No running. Take it."

Mattheo pulled out fully before ramming back into you, spearing you with his cock, your body quaking with the force of each of his violent thrusts. His breath was already ragged, furious groans pushed from his chest as he fucked deep into you. Your lungs were empty, failing to find oxygen in his onslaught, your walls squeezing his length in delight, drool spilling down your chin and mingling with the flow of rain.

"Fuck--such an insatiable little cunt..." he growled, his eyes drilling into yours, taunting you through his gaze. "It missed this cock already, didn't it?"

Another deep thrust, meeting your cervix, and you winced, groaning against the gun as you tried to nod.

"That's right...shit..." he pulled the gun from your mouth, strings of drool hanging like garland from the barrel, quickly being washed away with the rain. "My girl...my fucking beautiful, filthy girl..."

He tossed it onto the ground next to your head, drawing his hand down toward your belly, slick fingers rubbing merciless circles on the bundle of nerves in rhythm with his pistoning hips--you wailed, drooling with pleasure, assaulted with a sudden, immediate need to orgasm.

"Fucking hell, you're so tight when you're about to cum..." he groaned, punishing your pussy with hard, rapid thrusts. "Prove you can take it. Cum on this cock."

Between the attention on your clit and the size of his dick, you snapped, convulsing and trembling while your blood flooded with flames, blazing heat through your thighs and to your toes. Above you, Mattheo hissed, fucking you through it, valiantly holding off his own orgasm as yours fizzed at your flesh. When your core's pulsing slowed, he shifted, propping your calves up his shoulders before he leaned forward and clamped his palm down on your neck.

"Don't squirm, baby..." his low voice commanded, and as you whimpered, squirming beneath him, his grin deepened. His eyes, now wild and intoxicated with desire, held a promise. "I gave you fair warning."

His free hand pinched your cheeks, slowly sliding out before slamming back in and pounding your cunt, growling breath leaking from his lungs, his hold on your throat tightening. The pressure in your head only doubled the frenzy of being fucked--you wheezed, your pulse thumping in your temples, and this spurred him on, drilling you with a depraved stare as he plowed into your tight pussy again and again and again.

The rain was steam on your skin, thunder a distant noise behind the sound of slapping skin and your strangled, whimpering moans. Your walls clenched and fluttered around his throbbing dick, sore clit twitching once more with a growing demand to be sated--Mattheo grunted, tugging you closer, eyes drilling into yours.

"Open that filthy mouth."

Wincing, you complied, parting your lips as he commanded. Without hesitation, he leaned down and spat into it.

"Now swallow it. Show me."

With determination etched on your face, you managed to comply against the pressure of his massive hand. Popping your jaw apart with a grimace, you showcased your resilience, earning a smirk from him. In response, he rewarded you with a series of both painful and blissful strokes of his hips, pushing your body to its absolute limit. Your breath had vanished ages ago, your heart now a wild entity, coursing through your veins.

"Poor baby," he sneered, feign sincerity in his tone. "I think you need to cum again."

He snaked his free hand between your legs, rolling your aching clit, and you groaned--or tried to, anyway--the speed of your pulse resonating through the grip on your neck. He felt it, too, head bowing in pleasured shock as you thrummed around him, your oncoming climax massaging his thick cock with every new thrust.

"Fuck." Resolute, he rubbed you faster, watching you--in his gaze, you saw nothing but an endless, dark void of lust. "Who do you fucking belong to?"

The words barely made it out. "Y-you, Mattheo..."

His choke tightened, and your vision blurred. "Who owns this tight little pussy?"

"You--you do, Mattheo..." you gasped.

"That's right," he sneered, and swirled your nub so quickly you squealed. "Cum for me, princess..."

The force of your orgasm surged through you, blurring your vision, and you screamed, choked by his hand as every muscle below your waist convulsed in a rapturous ecstasy. Your pussy milked and squeezed his cock, but he resisted his own climax once more, sinking into you until you descended. He drank in the sight of you--eyes rolled, raindrops scattered like diamonds on your skin, your throat and chest smothered with the evidence of his possession.

"Good fucking girl...take me...take all of me," he muttered, voice low and deep in the night air. "Every single fucking inch."

Mattheo shifted again, one arm coiling under you to fist your hair, the other cranking your leg back until your knee hit your chest. Groaning with pleasure, he hammered into you, stretching you wide, filling you to the base. Soaked strands of his hair slid into his eyes, and he tossed them back, wetting his lips and fucking you deep, trapping you in his feral gaze.

"You love me." He tilted your head back with a deliberate motion. "You fucking love me."

You nodded, not a shred of hesitation. "Yes-fuck! I do!"

He swallowed, inching closer, his forehead tenderly meeting yours. "After all of it," he whispered, the words almost lost in the shared breath, "after everything..."

Your chin quivered, and the revelation about his parents cut into your heart, a painful echo of his turbulent past. It hurt, yes, but it also felt like the a groundbreaking revelation, the ending to the story which finally explained why he was the way he was. There was an undeniable understanding that surged between your hearts, a silent recognition that both of you needed love in ways only the other could provide.

Despite the turmoil, you couldn't blame him for something so deeply rooted. The man craved love as desperately as you did, neither of you ever willing to admit it. In the synergy of your souls, there existed an undeniable connection, a perfect harmony that transcended spoken words. Even in the hushed language of silence, your hearts resonated, acknowledging that there would never be two souls more perfectly suited for each other than yours.

"After everything." You wrapped your arms around him, safe when lightning crashed, rocking your hips in his pace. "No matter what."

"Fuck." He wound your hair in his fist, and wrenched your head back, tearing at your throat with his teeth, harsh thrusts pulverizing your cunt. "...I'm--fuck--I'm going to make you break again." His hand left your leg, long fingers back to stroking your tender clit. "And then I'm going to fill you up with my cum."

Senses barraged, you shrieked, overwhelmed and oversensitive. He wasn't fucking joking. You wanted mercy. "Fuck! Mattheo! Please-please-"

"No. Take it," he snarled into your ear. "Take it."

He assailed your nub, and you quailed, curling around him like a snake, shaking from the overwhelming intensity of his power, lids shut while he nipped your neck, demolished your pussy, panted hard into your ear.

"You're mine." He growled, his voice shredded raw with lust. "Mine."

"I'm yours!" You shrieked, nails digging crescents into his back. "Yours."

"Fuck-" he hissed, slamming harder, deeper. "Mine! All fucking mine..."

"Yours! Fuck!" It was all too much, too great, brain crashing into a wanton mess. "All fucking yours!"

Your body convulsed, teeth sinking into your lip, propelled through a realm of heightened sensitivity into an ecstasy that seared your skin. Gasps and incoherent pleas spilled from your lips, a desperate supplication for release, for him to unleash the crescendo that would send you soaring and screaming and cumming.

"That's it," Mattheo growled, pumping into you, folding you into his frame. "You're taking me so fucking well baby, just one more...cum for me, angel."

Your senses fractured, caught between euphoria and disbelief, and your body spasmed, climax radiating through your every fiber, a luminous burst that shattered any remnants of sanity, setting Mattheo ablaze in its wake. He groaned, grunted, burying himself to the hilt, warm cock pulsing as he poured hot cum deep into your cunt. For a moment, he didn't move, silently working to catch his breath before he pulled back, shifting onto his knees.

You fixated on him, your head weighed down, struggling to fathom the endearment he had bestowed upon you--silently endeavouring to etch every detail of this encounter into the recesses of your memory. A contented sigh escaped you, accompanied by a smile that radiated the joy swelling within your chest.

However, as you gazed at him, basking in the warmth of affection twinkling in his eyes, you noticed a flicker of something else--an abrupt shift. His thumb grazed your chin absentmindedly before he moved, working to tuck himself away. You mirrored his actions, attempting to salvage what was left of your clothing, now thoroughly drenched by the relentless rain.

Walking through the forest on your way back to the castle, the shadows of the trees played in the puddle-soaked ground, creating a surreal dance around you. Mattheo extended his hand, a silent invitation you willingly accepted. The brief connection sent a comforting warmth through you, grounding you amidst the uncertainty.

As you navigated the path, thoughts swirled like the mist around you. The night's events echoed in your mind, and a cloud of questions veiled the clarity you sought. Contemplating a potential job at the castle, you wondered about its impact on your newfound bond with Mattheo. Did you still harbour the same enthusiasm for the job amid these compelling complexities? The walk became a journey through both the tangible forest and the intricate maze of your thoughts, navigating the uncertainty of what lay ahead.

Approaching the castle, the distant melody of music embraced the night air, whispering promises of celebration within. Capturing the tune, Mattheo halted abruptly, pivoting to face you as the two of you lingered just outside the castle walls, hidden by the shadows of the night.

Your brows furrowed inquisitively as you locked eyes with him, seeking to understand the meaning behind this sudden pause. "What are you-"

"Shh." He cooed, eyes darting around.

After a brief survey of the surroundings, he fixed his eyes back on you with a newfound emotion swirling within them. Without another word, Mattheo enveloped you in a tender embrace, guiding your arms to rest on his neck as his firm hands settled on your hips. Bathed in the gentle glow of castle lights, he initiated a graceful sway to the rhythm of a slow, melodic tune that harmonized seamlessly with the rain-soaked ambiance.

In the suspended moment, your gaze locked with his, the world around you blurred as the rain continued its gentle descent, creating an intimate cocoon amidst the springtime storm. It felt perfect, a clandestine world of your own, away from the prying eyes of others.

"All those people think love's for show..." Mattheo blinked, drawing his face closer. "But I'd fucking die for you in secret."

Your breath hitched, water welling in your eyes. You quickly blinked it away, searching his face, mapping it, along with everything else from this night into memory.

"How'd I get so lucky..." you tightened your hold on him, the raindrops adding a gentle percussion to the soundtrack of the moment. "A sky full of stars, and yet you're staring at me..."

"There's no need," he murmured, directing your head to lay against his chest. "Avere lei è come avere le stelle."

Your heart leapt. "How did you-"

"Notts been teaching me," he said, and you could practically hear the smirk on his lips, the pride in his tone. "You know what I said, don't you?"

You blushed, unable to stifle your grin. "I do."

He hummed. "Tell me."

"No," you whispered, fingers digging into his neck as you shifted your head to look up at him. "I'd like to hear you say it."

His smirk grew, and he peered down at you. "To have her, is to have the stars."

“Mm,” you glimpsed his mouth, brushing your lips against his as you murmured, "E averlo, è come avere la luna." (And to have him, is to have the moon.)

His smirk blossomed into a radiant smile as he gripped your face, drawing you into a profound, messy, deep kiss. Every fiber of your being quivered under the intense surge of emotions you felt for this man--love enveloping you entirely, and whether or not he uttered the words, you could sense it--right now, ten minutes ago, and every moment in between.

All you wanted, more than anything, was that he’d hold you tight, and whisper that you’d find a way to be together. But then, his hands fell from your face, wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you back into him. With his lips pressed to your forehead, he whispered,

“I’ve never loved anything, Raven…anyone…I didn’t even know I had a heart until you made it beat.” He murmured, tightening his grip. “Now this heart belongs to you. And I’ll fucking kill every last person that tries to keep you from me…”

You shuddered, breathing him in. “We’ll make it work. We’ll figure it out.”

He hummed, nodding softly, the two of you swaying to the gentle melody, ignoring the cold rain pouring down against your bodies. You weren’t sure how long you’d stood there, minutes, maybe even hours--but as the song came to an end, switching to another, more upbeat one, you smiled, meeting his dark, gleaming eyes.

“I love you, Mattheo.”

He pressed his lips to yours. “I love you, Raven.”

[jugheadcentral]

RIVERDALE (2017 - 2023) Season 7, Episode 11: Chapter One Hundred and Twenty Eight “Halloween II”

[rvdregister]

What is a real Halloween anyhow? One, trick or treating. Two, visiting a graveyard. And three… Necking in a haunted house.

— Archie & Betty in Riverdale, “Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Eight: Halloween II”

[bluenotes75]

Trust pt.2

Miles Morales ! 42 x Fem ! Reader x Miles Morales ! 1610

wc : 5,9k Warnings : angst, possessiveness, all characters are around 19 years old, cheating, no proofread, what I could remember from my spanish class 3 years ago, eventual love triangle ?, dramaaaa. pt.1 - pt.2 - pt.3 (coming soon)

Sorry, it took so long, the chapter just kept getting longer. Anyways, hope you enjoy <3

You sighed as you closed the door of the store. It was already past midnight and you had just finished a long shift. Oddly, the store had been particularly active today and you couldn't catch any break. Now you sought one simple thing. To find the comfort of your bed.

You removed the key from the lock and frowned as a drop of water touched your skin. It was raining. 

Wonderful.

You had no umbrella with you as you didn't anticipate the night to get rainy. Regretting your choice of clothes, you pressed your bag on top of your head to protect yourself from the rain. Your home was a bit far from the cornerstone you worked at and you knew you had to hurry up because the streets were not safe at night.

As you headed toward your apartment, your thought deviated toward him. 

It had been one month. Four weeks since everything fell apart.

At least, to you.

Twenty-eight days since you broke up with Miles Morales. Six hundred and seventy-two hours since he betrayed you and you liked to think that you had moved on. It was the easiest way to go through your days. 

 And if your heart ached each time you found his clothes in your closet or if you woke up in the middle of the night to noises on your window thinking it was him, you denied it.

The pain that you felt that night was unmatched. It was still fresh, rooted deep in your memories. But with time, you discovered it was nothing next to the pain of leaving without Miles. He wasn't there physically, yet he occupied each ounce of your mind.

Contrary to what you could believe, Miles wasn't any better. You were on his mind, 24/7. 

He regretted. He regretted considerably. He had made the worst mistake of his life and just like that, you slipped through his fingers. 

You were his world. His universe. He missed your presence. He missed holding you in his arms, feeling the warmth of your skin, tickling the curve of your hip, caressing the softness of your skin with his lips and seeing the deepness of your loving gaze when you looked up at him. He missed everything about you and he refused to let you go.

And this became the hardest part for you. Miles had tried to get you back. 

Countless time.

Because even if your mind was screaming no, your heart was still weak for the boy. And he knew it.

He hadn't stopped texting you in the weeks following your break up. He had asked for forgiveness so many times you couldn't even count it. When you blocked him on every social media, he directly came to your house. He would knock on your window at late hours like he always did. 

You would leave him outside.

After some time, he finally decided to give you some space but you could still feel his presence from afar. You could feel his stare on your back sometimes as you came back from work. You knew he was still making sure you were safe. Sometimes, you find to notes from him on your window.

You didn't read them.

You had thought of taking him back. On your lowest nights, you had thought that maybe it was for the best. You felt nothing without him. Even if the relationship brought your more strain than anything else, it was at least something. It was toxic but addicting. It made you cry at night but it made you feel high on other days. The only thing stopping you from going back was that little doubt ticking in the back of your brain.

What if he did it again?

But if there was one thing you knew, is that you were faithful to yourself. You were too afraid to put yourself through that process again if he was to mess up again. He had already broken you once, had left you miserable and you had suffered too much to trust him again.

So with time, you learned to let go. You had finally gotten used to living without him. Each day you were forgetting him more and more and you felt like yourself once again. And while your heart was still tied to his in a way, you knew you could live peacefully now.

You were dragged out of your thoughts by a noise behind you, yet you didn't give it a second thought. However, when you heard again, this time followed by irregular steps against the wet concrete, you frowned.

You peeked behind your shoulder and noticed a man, both taller and broader, dressed in a black hoodie. You couldn't see his face.

Your heartbeat picked up.

You accelerated, hoping that you were worrying for nothing, but that hope was soon crushed when the steps also became faster. Before you could think of a way to get yourself out of this situation, a hand covered your mouth and you were dragged into an alley.

It was dark and you could barely see anything as you fought back against the broad body that manhandled you against the wall. 

''What pretty girl like you doing outside at such an hour.''

He whispered, his breath reeking of booze. He pressed his body against yours and travelled his hands on your back. Your cheeks pressed hard against the rugged brick wall, you felt tears burn the brim of your eyes as you realized what was about to happen.

''N-no! Please don't''

''Shut up bitch, you want it. You wouldn't be walking alone at such hours if not,'' he laughed in your ears.

''Nah, I think her no was clear enough.''

You jerked at the new voice and soon, the hands holding you against the wall disappeared. You turned around panicked, gasping as the man who was once all over you, now laying on the ground, holding his bruised cheek. Another guy dressed in a red suit stood over him.

''I hate assholes like you-'' the newcomer shot a string of web to tie up the man against the wall ? ''who think they can do whatever they want.''

You rubbed your eyes to make sure you saw well. Web ?

''Don't touch women again, got it ?''

The man nodded quickly, eyes widened in fear before the guy in red sent another punch, knocking him out for good.

You stood there, back against the wall, frozen. You had never heard of a guy in red playing the hero in Brooklyn.

New-york was filled with villains. You just hoped to fall on the nicest one.

As if reading your thoughts, the guy in red walked toward you.

''Hey, are you fine? I'm sorry this happened !''

He stopped in his track when you flinched.

''Look, I don't want you any harm,'' he raised his arms in the air as proof. ''Can I...come closer ?''

You nodded slowly, still speechless, and he did so. From closer, he was towering over you and you had to raise your head to properly look at him.

Just like with your ex.

You frowned, feeling stupid for thinking of the guy in such a situation and finally spoke.

''Thank you."

You watched as he smiled through his mask.

''Of course,'' he raised his hand before stopping abruptly. ''Can I touch you ?''

You nodded and he held your chin, angling it to the side and checking your cheek.

''Good he didn't hurt you,'' he then took in your appearance. You were completely wet because of the rain and you had started shivering. He removed the coat he was wearing and wrapped it around your shoulders. ''Here.''

A million thoughts crossed your mind, yet you only cared about one.

The coat smelled like Miles. 

You shook your head, feeling stupid again. Were you so obsessed that you imagined your ex everywhere now? You really needed some sleep. 

But you didn't want to walk home alone.

''I'll bring you home,'' the boy announced before wrapping his arms around your hips. ''Hold onto me tight.''

You did as he said, confused about why but soon understood when he brought you both in the air.

''Oh god !''

You closed your eyes not daring to look down.

''I know,'' he laughed near your ear and you couldn't ignore the shivers that crossed your body at the familiarity of his voice.

In less than ten minutes, you were home after telling him the way.

''Thank you for this,'' you smiled shyly and handed him back his coat.

''Of course! ''

You looked at him and you just couldn't get rid of this picture of Miles. 

''Who are you ?''

You were shocked at your own question, the word escaping your mouth before you could stop yourself.

''Oh, I'm Spiderman," the guy said and you could hear the proudness in his voice.

''No, like who are you really?'' You slid your hands down his shoulders and his arms. It was a posture you knew too well. You could recognize that body in a million. ''Miles ?''

''W-what''

You grabbed the end of his mask and to your surprise, he didn't stop you. You raised it until it revealed his face.

A gasp escaped you as you saw Miles but....he didn't have braids. You studied him carefully. Same lips, same nose, same cheekbones, you almost got fooled. But when you made eye contact with him, you saw it.

It wasn't your ex.

His eyes weren't the same. Your ex had this hardened stare. A gaze built by the wall he created around himself. People said eyes were the mirror of the soul but you couldn't read anything through them.

This guy in front however had....innocence painted all over his eyes. His stare was soft, warm and solacing. 

''You aren't Miles, who are you ?''

The guy took a step forward, hope in his eyes. You stepped back.

''You know Miles Morales ?'' 

You shook your head freaked out by the situation and took another step back.

''Get out.''

The taller widened his eyes. 

''No, no please listen to me first.''

Maybe it was his eyes, maybe it was because he looked like Miles, you didn't know. But you didn't have the heart to chase him away one more time.

''You have five minutes.''

"So you're telling me that you are a hero from another earth that is exactly like mine and you saved people you weren't supposed to so a hoard of spidermans is following you and you need to go back to your earth to save your dad."

Miles nodded eagerly.

"I know it sounds crazy but yeah…that's pretty much it.''

''Damn,'' you breathed, letting the information sink in. ''And you need me for..?''

''To find a way back home.''

The boy stared at you expectantly, waiting for your answer. You bit the inside of your cheek before shaking your head.

''Look, I don't think I can help you with that.''

His face dropped and he clasped your smaller hands in his calloused ones.

''Nonono, please! You are the only one I could find and you seem to already know Miles Morales from here. You know how I need to act to stay unnoticed.''

You thought about his words. It made sense, but you didn't want to get involved in all that mess.

"I really don't know."

"Please !"

You wondered for a few more seconds. How where you supposed to refuse when he was looking at you pleadingly?

''Alright.''

His facial features broke into a grin and he pulled on your arm, making you collide against his chest.

''Thank you !''

You could only widen your eyes as you felt his arms tighten around you. You hadn't expected this sudden affection. Dumbstruck, you failed to return the gesture until he froze and leaned back, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

''Sorry, I got too excited…'' he looked away, your stare becoming too intense for him.

You stayed silent for a few seconds before bursting out laughing. The Miles you knew was so cold so this new Miles with such a…bubbly personality was interesting.

You couldn't help but think it was sweet…and very cute.

''It's fine.''

He seemed satisfied with your reaction as he joined you before your laughers died down.

''Uh, I might have sum else to ask.''

You hummed.

''I kinda need a place to stay.''

Miles towered over you, holding bedsheets, while you hugged a pillow to your chest.

''So how are we going to do this ?''

You two made eye contact before glancing at the bed again. Suddenly, the boy dropped the fabric on the floor and rose his hand next to his chest.

''I'll sleep on the ground, it's fin-''

''no, you don-''

''Yes, I do. I'm the guy and the guest, so sleep on the bed and I'll-''

''Just lay down, I don't mind.''

You slid under the covers not waiting for his reaction and soon, you heard the mattress dip toward his side. He was careful to let some space between you.

You rose the fabric over both of your bodies and sighed. This was a long day and you were honey tired. You tried to get some sleep but you could feel starring eyes burning your skin.

''What is it ?'' you whispered with your eyes still closed.

You heard the rub of covers before Miles cleared his throat.

''Nothing, nothing.''

Then the mattress bent again and you assumed he turned the other way.

''Oh, by the way. My mom can't know you are here. So you know…be discreet.''

You didn't want to have to explain to her what Miles, your ex - even if it's not really him - was doing in your room at such an hour.

''Don,t worry, I'm discreet.''

The next afternoon, you found yourself in the library. It was far from your apartment and your school, which reduced the chance of running into an unrequired acquaintance.

''Look at this, doesn't it look interesting ?''

You extended a book about something called 'The Super-Collider'. 

''That's basically a particle collider right ?'' You added as Miles grabbed the heavy textbook.

The taller boy nodded, peeking at the back cover.

''Yes, it uses electromagnetic fields to speed up charged particles. And-

''Eventually, pull or join different objects coming from different dimensions,'' you finished, scratching your chin as you wondered about something. You didn't notice Miles' amazed expression. 

''You know what it is ?''

You looked at him as if he was crazy.

''Of course, didn't you watch The Flash ?''

His excitation vanished and you received silence as an answer.

''I'm joking, I'm just really interested in physics,'' you said pivoting back to the bookshelf and searching for another work that could be useful.

''Oh...I didn't know that. I wanna study in that field later.''

Your widened eyes shifted back to him.

''What, you literally hate phys-'' you stopped as remembered who you were with and you shook your head embarrassed. ''Nevermind.....It's nice to have someone who likes it like me.''

You couldn't help the thrill that invaded you. Your ex would always joke about your interests in physics and eventually, you stopped talking about it. So seeing this new Miles show interest brought a certain warm feeling to your stomach. You didn't know what it was, but the longer you were with the boy, the more interesting you found him. You had found a special chemistry with him and it's like you two had always been friends.

You liked that sensation.

''I was wondering, are particle accelerators the reason why you are here ?"

The taller twisted his mouth to the side.

''Uh...not really? It's part of the reason though. Some type of butterfly effect,'' he finished as you opened another book. You simply hummed not pushing too much on the object. It didn't look like he wanted to talk much about it.

''I think we have enough for now. Let's buy them !''

You gazed at the raindrops interrupting the peaceful reflection of your face on the blurry window. It was particularly cold today, gray clouds snatching the sunrays from the city while its people ran down the streets to cover themselves from the water. To you, the scenery was simply gloomy.

A usual rainy day in Brooklyn.

You jumped as the doorbell of the store rang, pulling you out of your train of thought. You relaxed after realizing it was only a client. You were only 3 in the shop. You being the cashier, the man who had just crossed the door and Miles hanging upside down next to you while playing a ball.

''What's up with you? You've been daydreaming since morning.''

It had been 3 weeks since this Miles arrived from Earth 1610 and you had nearly spent all of your time with him. 

Well, it's not as if you had a choice since he lived in your apartment, but it didn't change the you two had gotten extremely close. You were hanging out every day. One time at the coffee shop and another time watching a movie while trying hairstyles on his hair. Just like yesterday.

You couldn't deny your attachment that had grown for him. Hell, just thinking about him made your heart flutter and you would find yourself stuck with a stupid grin on your lips.

At first, you kept comparing him with your ex. His accent, his gesture, what he liked and what he disliked. He didn't speak as much Spanish, he wasn't as mysterious and cold. But as time passed, you found yourself more and more drawn by this new Miles. He was more expressive, affectionate, supportive and careful with you. He knew how to make you laugh no matter the situation and you two shared multiple interests. 

You weren't oblivious. You quickly understood that the boy was slowly stealing your heart. But that doesn't mean you were ready for it.

You were used to feeling love with pain. To push and pull kind of relationship. To toxic and aggressive feelings. To spend the night worrying about your lover and only to find him bleeding the next day. To cry alone at night then drown your sadness in your boyfriend's arms for a few minutes before you had to separate again to go to school. 

But with Mile Morales, everything was different. It was sweet, warm and solacing. He was always next to you at night and he was careful with you in daylight. You felt protected and you weren't sleeping next to a criminal anymore. 

This was so different, but you liked it.

''I just didn't get much sleep last night.'' 

The taller jumped back to his feet before getting closer to you. He looked at your face carefully, worry painted all over his own features.

''I shouldn't have kept you up all night, sorry.''

You looked up at him with a chuckle before flicking his forehead softly.

''No, it was funny. You looked really cute with those coloured rubber bands in those cornrows I did,'' you teased, facing him.

He frowned before a tiny pout took over his mouth. It was nearly imperceptible but it was there.

''I looked like a kid. How am I supposed to be big and scary with that in my hair.''

You burst out laughing, the memory from last night coming back to you. You had told him you would braid his hair since he wanted to try something new but he ended up removing them because 'they were too tight, and his scalp was too soft for all that'. You knew he just wanted to remove the rubber bands.

''I'm still mad at you for destrpying my beautiful work.''

He smirked getting closer, reducing the space between you two.

''Don't be upset tesoro, what will I do if you are mad at me ?''

Your heart skipped a beat at the nickname, like it had done for the past weeks, and you looked away, to hide your shy smile. However, before you could answer, you heard a gun cocking right in front of you.

You slowly looked up, to find a riffle pointed right to your face. Your heart dropped as you failed to understand whatever the client from earlier was screaming.

''Open the cash register and gimme the bills,'' when he noticed your lack of reaction, he brought the gun closer to your forehead. ''Hurry the fuck up !''

However, before the stranger could try anything else, the gun was knocked out of his hands and his arms were joined together by web.

Everything passed in a flash and Miles quickly neutralize him and called the police. And if he gave a few unnecessary punches to the man, as he was already tied up, you didn't mention it. It was Miles' way to get back at the man and make him regret pointing his gun at you.

Before you could even realize what happened, the boy was in front of you, holding you tight by the elbow, checking up on you for the second time in less than 10 minutes.

''How are you feeling,'' he whispered, his low voice vibrating in your ear.

''G-good.''

Your voice left you like a whisper, still shaken by the event.

You had encountered multiple... ominous situations in this city. But being held at gunpoint and knowing your life was in the hands of a stranger was different. You realized how lucky you were to have Miles at your side at this exact moment and your eyes watered.

The boy read right through the facade you were trying to keep up, as he noticed your shivering and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, dragging you against himself.

''Come here precious.''

You tightened your hands around the low of his back, losing yourself in the warmness and the comfort of his embrace. You felt safe and the panic was slowly soothed away from you.

''Feeling better ?''

You nodded, slowly, face still hidden nestled in the crook of his neck.

''How come there's so much crime in this city,'' he sighed, caressing the back of your neck to bring you more comfort.

''We don't have Spiderman here, you know,'' you muttered, finally finding the energy to spill some words.

Your words were muffled by his skin and you felt him shiver at the sensation of your lips against his neck.

''Right.''

You expected him to laugh at your words so you looked up at him, frown plastered on your face.

''Are you mad ?''

His expression softened when he noticed you scowl and he shook his head.

''No,'' he rested his chin on top of your head. ''I just don't like the idea of you living all these years without anyone to protect you.''

You ignored the butterflies that invaded your stomach as his sentence, your lips growing into a grin against the crook of his neck.

''I'm not a damsel in distress.''

Miles only hummed, not letting go of you.

''Yeah, if you say so, preciosa.''

Everything was going perfectly. You and Miles were slowly finding more clues on how to send him back to Earth 1610 and by then, old Miles was already far in your memory.

You couldn't but wonder how unusual that was. You weren't used to just living peacefully. There was always something going on.

And you weren't wrong to feel so suspicious.

You were walking down the street as it was getting darker outside. 

Again.

You had to stay a few more hours at school to finish a group project and you hadn't realized how much time had passed. You cursed under your breath, remembering what happened the last time you found yourself walking for such an hour outside.

Not wanting to get in such a situation again, you accelerated until you arrived on the street where you live. You sighed, relieved, but before you could take your keys, a large hand caught your elbow, dragging you into the alley behind your apartment. You were pinned against the bricked wall and clenched your eyes shut, groaning at the impact.

What's with the people of this city and walls? Damn.

However, when you glanced at whoever seized you so brutally, your heart sank. You had completely forgotten about him and you had never expected him to come back.

''Miles.''

Your ex smirked staring up and down at your silhouette before licking his lips. A shiver travelled down your body at his action.

''Happy to see me mami ?''

You two made eye contact and you were hauled. His gaze was still as piercing as you remembered and it brought back unwanted memories. However, you suddenly blinked, waking up from your stupor and averted your eyes from the imposing male. Your expression turned sour and you tried to push him away, unsuccessfully.

''Leave me alone, Morales.''

He chuckled, taking a step forward to reduce the space between both of your bodies.

''So that's what we are doing now ?''

You kept your lips sealed and turned your head to the side as an answer. However, his fingers slid behind your neck, using his thumb to shift your head back to him.

''Look at me when I talk to you.''

''What do you want ?''

He rose his eyebrow at the dryness of your tone, still not used to such an attitude from you.

''I don't need a reason to see yah princesa.''

''I don't have time for this, move.''

Miles clenched his jaw, his eyes hardening at your words.

''Watch your tone.''

''Or what ?'' you raised your eyebrow at him with a bored expression. Two months ago, you would have never talked to him like that. But right now, you couldn't care less. You wanted to go home, take a shower and cuddle with your Miles. You were too tired for all that.

Your ex-boyfriend visibly took a deep breath and closed his eyes to calm himself down. You could see the frustration growing in him. But you didn't expect what he would say next.

''Who's that guy you've been hanging out with lately ?''

You froze at the question.

''What the- have you been following me ?''

''I asked you a question,'' Miles repeated louder this time.

''It's none of your business.''

''I'm being nice and you don't wanna try me. I don't like you talking to other guys and you know that.''

You scoffed at his nerve. Why was he acting like you were his or something?

''What part don't you understand in 'we're done' ?''

He took a deep breath and pinched his nose.

''Look, I fucked up mami. Lo sé and I hate myself for it. But I let you have some space for two months already, te necesito.''

''Miles, I don't love you anymore.''

He froze for a second but you could see him gulp slowly.

''I know you, stop playing hard to get.''

You rested your hand against your forehead tired of this situation already. 

''Are you being serious ?'' he asked again in disbelief.

But instead of answering, you pushed him back and this time, he didn't resist. 

''I'm leaving.''

''Where do you think you are going ?''

''Hopefully to my new boyfriend,'' you answered. Being honest was probably the only way to force him away from you.

''You don't want to do this,'' he said darkly. He clenched his jaw and rubbed his hand on his chin. You had never seen him so mad. ''I'm warning you.''

You shook your head with a sigh before ignoring him and entering your apartment. You knew he was saying empty words. Your ex would never dare to hurt you directly. He could cheat, and lie but never harm you intentionally.

That's what you thought at least.

Arriving in your room, you find your new Miles sitting at your desk, sketching something on a sheet. 

''Preciosa, you are finally here.''

You nodded with a tired smile.

''You're not sleeping yet ?''

He shook his head, leaning back on the chair and spreading his leg to be more comfortable. ''Nah, was waiting for you."

You raised an eyebrow at his position before throwing a shoe at him that he easily caught with one hand.

''Stop the manspreading in my room.''

He laughed before telling you to come closer. You obeyed and your eyes fell on the drawing he was making. 

It was you.

And it was you in a way you had never seen before. You looked...magnificent.

Your breath got stuck in your throat and couldn't help but wonder if that's how the boy saw you. 

All the stress you got from meeting your ex evaporated from your body as you sat on Miles' thighs and one of his hands rested on yours.

''It's beautiful.''

He hummed. ''When the muse is already gorgeous, it makes everything easier.''

Your heart jumped at the compliment and you pressed your head against his, running your thumb down his cheek as he kept drawing.

''Careful, you'll make my fro flat,'' the boy muttered, still focused on his sketch.

''I'll brush it out for you later,'' you giggled, continuing your ministration on his face.

A few more seconds passed and only the soft sound of a pencil running on paper filled the silence surrounding you. All until the boy broke the ice.

''I've always wanted to ask but...what's your relationship with Miles from here ?''

You gulped at this sudden question. Did he saw...what happened outside?

''Why you wanna know that ?''

Noticing your defensive reaction, he shook his head softly.

''Hey, I'm not forcing you to tell me, I was just wondering since you know...he never tried to contact you since I arrived. I kind of assumed you two were close since you recognized me in my suit. ''

You relaxed at his explanation.

''Oh, uh we were friends, but we had an argument and haven't really talked since.''

You didn't want to think about the guy anymore and ruin this wonderful moment. You hoped your Miles wouldn't mind the white lie you had just spitted out. 

Hopefully, the taller didn't seem to question you more and quickly changed the conversation.

It had been two weeks since your encounter with your ex and everything was going better than ever. Your mom had just left for a trip and the house was left to you and Miles. You woke up to the sound of the plate coming from the kitchen.

Loud sounds.

When you arrived in the living room, you found Miles throwing water in a pan which contained burning eggs. Your mouth dropped.

''What are you doing ?''

He jumped at the sound of your voice before placing his hand on his chest right over his heart.

''Shit, don't scare me like that.'' He then looked at the mess he had created and scratched the back of his neck. ''Uh...I was trying to make breakfast.''

You looked at him, still devoid of words before bursting out laughing.

''And you managed to burn eggs? How do you even burn eggs ?''

You shook your head taking the pan out of his and putting it in the sink.

''What I am going to do with your Miles.''

He pouted following closely behind you like a lost puppy.

''It's the meaning that matters ?''

You glared at him before seeing the opened bag of flour next to you. You smirked before grabbing some and throwing it in his face.

''Hey !''

He retaliated by taking the closest thing to him, which was a raw egg and throwing it on your shirt.

A gasp was heard.

''You did not just do that.''

''Oh, I did. ''

Soon, it turned into a food war, and your enjoyment could be heard by the mix of yells and laughers coming from the kitchen. Out of nowhere, Miles caught the back of your thighs and sat you on the table, before resting between your legs.

''Caught you.''

You laughed gaily, before getting closer to his face with a raised eyebrow.

''What do you want champion? A kiss as a price ?''

Yet, instead of joking back as you expected, the boy only gulped. That's when you noticed the small space separating both of your faces. 

You liked your lips, anxious at his silence and his eyes followed your tongue before slowly travelling back to your nose and your eyelashes. He then closed his eye and shook his head to compose himself.

''The stuff you make me think, preciosa.''

Your mouth dried out at his words and you bit your lips.

''Like what ?''

''I can't say it.''

He averted his eyes from you once again but you stopped him before he could lean away.

''Then show me,'' you whispered.

He widened his eyes as his breath brushed against your lips. You saw as he tried to hold himself back but the intense burning in his eyes showed you that he wanted exactly what you wanted.

''Fuck it.''

He leaned down and crashed his lips onto yours and you automatically responded, sighing in delight.

Finally.

Your lips moved in synchronization and you felt euphoric. After a few seconds, he leaned away, his dark eyes travelling onto your face as if he wanted to capture to moment and carve it in his mind forever.

''You don't know how much I've wanted this."

''Me too,'' you whispered before your mouths found each other again.

You kissed and kissed. For how long, you didn't know. But all you knew is that it felt too good and it only felt like a few seconds before you separated again.

Miles licked his lips and let out a breath.

''That was -wow.''

''Yeah...'' you whispered trying to catch your breath, a bit dazzled by what had just happened.

''I made you this breathless already,'' he laughed before you punched him on the shoulder.

''Shut up !''

He laughed and wrapped his arms around your waist.

''I would love to kiss you more, but I think we need to clean this up first.''

You followed his eyes and noticed the mess you two had created.

''Yeah...''

He carried you back on the floor and you two got to work. Eventually, you realized you needed more cleaning products and you went to the store while he continued cleaning.

On the way, you kept touching your lower lip with a stupid smile stuck on your face. Miles made you feel all sorts of things and infatuation was the main one. You were already excited to get back home and continue the unfinished business.

The trip to get more cleaning products was fast and soon, you were back at your apartment.

But bliss goes away as fast as it comes, doesn't it ?

When you opened the door to your apartment to find that the living room was a mess. 

But not the mess you had left in the kitchen. 

A people having a physical fight kind of a mess. The armchair was knocked down, the table was broken and the pillows were ripped. 

''Miles ?'' you yelled but received no answer.

Your heart raced as you rushed to look in the different rooms of your home, but there wasn't any living soul.

What the heck was happening?

When you arrived in your room, there was still no one.

But as you were going back to the kitchen, something caught your attention from the corner of your eye. It was a note on your window. 

Exactly like the one your ex used to leave.

From afar, you could even recognize his writing. You snatched it and for the first time, you decided to read it.

Your heart sank at the words.

''I warned you.''

Don't hesitate to comment or reblog, I read everything <33

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[aachria]

Who saw this coming raise your hand.

Imagine finally escaping Impel Down and reaching Marineford then getting stiffed on your chapter lmao couldn't be me. Except it is me gang I'm sorry but I just spent 12 hours straight working on a project, following 12 hours straight yesterday working on a project, following the absolute shitshow that has been the rest of the week and also last week.

I didn't know eyebags having eyebags was an actual thing but damn am I out here proving nature wrong. HAH I am so stressed it's making my hair prematurely grey. Again. I always knew I'd be a silverfox at 20, take that Ed. I don't even have compensation art this time because Literally When Would I Have Had The Time.

(Also hiiiiiiiiiiiii Tumblr missed u bbg sorry I'm only here to deliver bad news nowadays xoxo)

So we're skipping another update and the world is a cold dark nightmare, but hey there's also love everywhere if you aren't a fucking coward and go look for it. Do it. Pussy. Or go reread the fic, you fucking maniacs seem to love doing that shit. IN THREE DAYS. Sociopaths, the lot of you ♥

SSSBMTY will be back on the 16th and we'll finally get into Marineford proper, so stay tuned for Chapter One Hundred and Twenty Eight: Like You've Never Lost A War!

Stay sexy forever and keep your hope ♥♥♥

[dreaming-medium]

Animals Without Direction Masterlist

Cover Art by @seochngbin 🤍❤️🖤

Ao3 Link - Latest Update (November 24th) - Chapter Forty-Two

⚔️ Updates every other week ⚔️ Character Descriptions World Map ot8 x reader Stray Kids Fantasy!AU 18+ MDNI

WARNINGS: THIS STORY CONTAINS HEAVY THEMES OF VIOLENCE, GENOCIDE, SEXUAL ASSAULT, HATE CRIMES, AND OTHER SENSITIVE TOPICS.

Tags: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Swordfighting, Magic, Eventual Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Romance, Adventure, Fighting, High Fantast, Slow Burn, Extremely Slow Burn, Plot Heavy

Summary:

“No.” Your voice was stern, your eyes didn’t even look up from the plate in front of you. A healthy helping of roasted potatoes being pushed around by the metal fork in your hand.

“I am offering you a hefty sum of gold,” the man’s voice pleaded with you.

“I am well aware of the amount you offer, but you must think me mad to go anywhere near Miroh.”

“Thrice the amount, then.”

You paused.

Swallowing your mouthful of food, you placed your fork back on the table; tonguing your cheek and shifting on your seat.

Individually, you cracked each knuckle on both hands, your mind reeling.

“Explain the job to me once more.”

Chapter One - Thrice The Amount Chapter Two - Stained Glass Window Chapter Three - Red and Gold Throw Pillows Chapter Four - Sword Sparks Chapter Five - Careful, Merchant Chapter Six - Aye, My Lord Chapter Seven - Decree Chapter Eight - Twenty Laps Chapter Nine - Clear Your Plate Chapter Ten - By First Light Chapter Eleven - Permitted to Die Chapter Twelve - Rest Chapter Thirteen - Jump Chapter Fourteen - Quite Certain Chapter Fifteen - Serendipitously Chapter Sixteen - Make it in Three Chapter Seventeen - Hang in There Chapter Eighteen - Sunshine in the Night Chapter Nineteen - Dance Lessons Chapter Twenty - While Dancing Chapter Twenty One - Mend Chapter Twenty Two - Of Course Chapter Twenty Three - Tea With Sugar Chapter Twenty Four - Dagger Chapter Twenty Five - The Gracious Host Chapter Twenty Six - The Dove Waltz Chapter Twenty Seven - Imported Cigars Chapter Twenty Eight - Use Chapter Twenty-Nine - Between Two Walls Chapter Thirty - Missed You Chapter Thirty-One - Bonfire Chapter Thirty-Two - Music of the World Chapter Thirty-Three - Stay Here Chapter Thirty-Four - Ward Chapter Thirty-Five - Sunset Chapter Thirty-Six - Drums Chapter Thirty-Seven - The Horn of Miroh Chapter Thirty-Eight - Four Hundred and Thirteen Chapter Thirty-Nine - By The Six Chapter Forty - Mortal's Touch Chapter Forty-One - Rescue Mission Chapter Forty-Two - The Stars Missed You

[callsign-rogueone]

the love letter

sawyer henrick x healer!reader (peach!) words: 1.7k 🏷: no book spoilers, no warnings, set in iron flame, the 4th chapter in sawyer and peach's story, more of james being creepy but he doesn't make an appearance this time, nolon is still out of office, two points extra credit if you find a reference to another gf in here somewhere, both of these kids are still in denial and will be for another... three? chapters, first chapter of 2025 lezgeddit

Two more shelves of supplies to inventory, and then you’ll be done for the day. You pull yourself up from the floor, wincing at the ache in your knees from squatting in front of an under-the-sink cabinet. “Almost done,” you sigh. 

“I’ll finish up,” Sarah says, nodding toward the door. “You go see loverboy.”

“He’s a friend,” you correct, hoping she can’t see the warmth in your cheeks.

“Mmm,” she hums, clearly not buying it. “A very good friend, then. He’s here almost every day.”

She’s right. Like clockwork, Sawyer is waiting for you at eleven twenty eight. Always just a little bit early, but never ever late. You suppose riders have to be even more punctual than healers. 

“Thank you,” you say, giving her a rushed half-hug before you head out to the main room of the infirmary.

He’s always sitting at one of the study tables, and always stands up as soon as he sees you. 

You don’t wait for him to ask. “I got a hundred percent on my foraging assignment,” you say by way of greeting.

He smiles. “See? I told you not to worry about it, miss future Head Healer.”

“You’re not letting that go anytime soon, are you?”

“Nope.”

You roll your eyes at him playfully, but there’s no denying that his belief in you feels good, even if it’s exaggerated — there’s a tiny bit of truth in every joke. 

“Could you thank him again for me?” you ask softly. 

“Of course,” he says warmly. “And I brought you something, to celebrate.”

“It’s not another knife, is it?” you ask with a nervous laugh.

“I promise it’s not a knife.” He reaches inside his jacket, pulling out a piece of cloth, then folds back the edges, revealing something that glitters in the afternoon sunlight — a delicate metal chain with a tiny flower pendant at the end of it. He lays it in your palm, pocketing the cloth. 

“Oh, it’s beautiful. Where did you get it?”

“I didn’t. I made it myself.”

Your smile fades near immediately. “You made this?”

He looks a little crestfallen. “Yeah, why?” 

“I love it,” you reassure him quietly, still gazing at it, “but I don’t want you to be in pain. Especially not for me.”

He tilts his head. “What do you mean?”

You look up at him. “Doesn’t it hurt? Using your signet?”

He looks concerned, his eyebrows furrowing. “Of course not. It felt a little weird and tingly at first, but it never hurts.”

“But the Colonel always looks so uncomfortable, and the other mender… fixing a broken bone nearly brought her to tears,” you tell him, looking back at the tiny metal flower that you hold in your palm. You wouldn’t want to wear it if it had caused him pain to make it — but then if you don’t wear it, the pain would have been wasted. Which is worse?

“Hey,” he nudges, his hands settling on your forearms. “I promise you, it didn’t hurt me at all to make this, or to adjust that dagger for you. It’s easy, like shaping clay. Easier than that, really. I don’t have to sculpt all the details, I just picture them and they appear.”

You crack a smile. “I was wondering why you stole a single flower from my basket the other day.”

He blushes. “Sorry. I needed a reference — I wanted to make it accurate.”

“It’s perfect,” you tell him. “Thank you. Can you help me put it on?” You know you could do it yourself, but some part of you wants him to be the one to close the clasp, to lay his claim to you.

He takes it back from you, roughened fingers brushing against yours. “Turn around,” he prods.

You move your hair out of the way, letting him drape the thin chain around your neck. It’s just long enough for the tiny flower to sit exactly above your heart. The metal is pleasantly warm against your skin, seeming to glow under his touch as he clasps it, his fingertips brushing against the sides of your neck. 

He wants to kiss the soft skin there, to wrap his arms around your waist and press his chest to your back, to nudge his nose against the side of your throat and just breathe you in, because you smell absolutely intoxicating — sugary, fruity perfume and a hint of whatever herbs you’d been working with this morning. He settles for a gentle, fleeting touch to your shoulders, smoothing out the sleeves of your shirt before he shoves his hands back into his pockets.

“Thank you, Sy,” you say quietly, turning to face him again. There’s a soft pink blush across his cheeks, his lips curved into a shy smile. It’s adorable. You’d definitely kiss him right now if this weren’t all an act. It would be so easy to step forward and rise onto your tiptoes and just… Nope. Boundaries. He’s just doing you a favor, as a friend. Don’t make it weird.

He isn’t saying anything, so you attempt to cut the tension by changing the subject. “You’re pretty good at this pretend boyfriend thing, you know. Bringing me gifts, slipping that love letter under my door…”

His head tilts to the side in confusion. It's unbearably cute. “What letter?”

You give him a sly smile. “I know it was totally over the top and super cheesy, but you don’t have to pretend. It was kinda cute.”

His gaze hardens. “What letter, peach,” he repeats, with an edge to his voice that you’ve only heard a few times — it’s not a question, but an order for you to tell him what the hell is going on.

Your heart drops. “It really wasn’t from you?”

He shakes his head no.

It all starts to add up. You haven’t seen Sawyer’s handwriting in years, but now that you think about it, it didn’t look anything like what you’d seen this morning, and there isn’t any trace of amusement on his face as he looks at you — he’s telling the truth. It wasn’t him. It was James.

All those sweetened words now feel like taunts, the promises like threats. Maybe they are. Maybe you’re right to be scared of him.

“Do you have it with you?” he asks gently.

“No, it’s… it’s on my desk.”

He picks up your bag, shouldering it and gesturing toward the door, as if to say lead the way. You make the trip silently, taking him down hallways that have become familiar to him in the last few weeks. He’s memorized the turns by now; a left past the infirmary, up two flights of stairs, another left, third door on the right. Room 322.

You unlock it with an actual key — something he’s still not used to — and shrug off the healer’s robe as soon as you walk in the door, tossing it over the back of your chair.

He’s walked you to your door a few times, but he’s never been inside. He realizes that the way everything in the riders' rooms is black, the healers’ are powder blue; the sheets and drapes, and the woven rug between your desk and the bed. He steps back, not wanting to dirty it with his boots.

It’s just as sparsely furnished as the riders’ rooms, but you’ve added a few things to make it less austere. The stuffed bunny you’d carried around as a child and taken meticulous care of sits on your pillow, there’s a neat row of tiny nail polish bottles on the desk — and a small piece of paper there among your books.

You hand it to him, chewing your lip. “I just thought you were being overdramatic about it to be funny, but…” You watch his eyes flick back and forth as he reads through it, and you make a second, sickening realization. “I don’t know how he figured out which room is mine,” you whisper. “All of my healer friends think he’s crazy, so they definitely wouldn’t tell him. And you’re the only other person who knows, besides the leadership.”

He looks up from the paper, his jaw clenching. 

“I’m so sorry for dragging you into this,” you whisper, holding back tears. “Hey,” he soothes, dropping the anger completely. “Don’t apologize. None of this was your fault.”

“Maybe it was,” you say softly. “Maybe I was too nice to him, did something to make him think I liked him…”

“Whether or not you were nice to him, he should have taken no for an answer the first time,” he says firmly. 

“I just don’t know what to do anymore. I told him about you, because I thought that would finally get him to stop, but I think that might have made it worse. I don’t want him to go after you.”

“I’ll be fine. Nobody else is allowed into the rider’s quadrant, and even if we crossed paths, I could totally take him in a fight,” he says with a half-smile — it doesn’t make you feel any better. “C’mere.” 

You step forward without hesitation, letting him gather you into his arms and resting your head on his shoulder. The leather of his jacket is cold against your cheek.

“I promised you we would get you through this, and I’m not going to quit. Is Nolon here today? Or the head healer?”

You shake your head. “No. I never know when they’ll be around. Maybe tomorrow.”

“Then tomorrow, you and I will talk to them about what’s going on, and see what he can do about it. I’ll meet you in the infirmary, like always. Bring the letter with you.”

“Okay,” you sniff, worrying the little flower back and forth between your fingers nervously. “Thank you, Sy.”

He reaches up to cradle your cheek, brushing away a stray tear with his thumb. “Of course, sweet girl. You know I’d do anything for you.”

You nod silently, leaning into his palm. He lingers there a moment, until you hear the muffled chime of the tower bells. “You should go,” you say quietly. “I don’t want you to be late.”

“Don’t worry about me,” he soothes. “Are you going to be okay for the night?”

You nod. “Yeah. I’ll be okay.”

He gives you one last little squeeze before he pulls away. “Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You hum in response, silent as you watch him leave.

Tomorrow. You just have to make it to tomorrow.

[xo-hugs-n-kisses-ox]

Rumination

Ruminate

(v.) To think about something deeply

After Edward left her, Bella Swan fell apart. Desperate to try and save his eldest daughter, Charlie brings his youngest daughter to Forks to see if she can bring her sister out of her depression.

Now, y/n must try to help her sister find her way back to the light while also trying to navigate her Junior year of high school in the odd town of Forks.

---

Chapter Eight: Home, Safe.

Now Playing: Everlong by Foo Fighters

Charlie was pissed when he found out that Bella had run off to Italy to save Edward. I couldn’t really blame him.

Jacob was pissed that she was running back to him after all the shit he put her through. The rest of the pack agreed, but I thought they were a little biased. I agreed with them, so I suppose I was biased, too.

I was grounded for not telling Charlie about Bella leaving, so for the entirety of Spring Break I was locked in the house until Charlie fell asleep. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right? I sounded like my sister.

When Charlie fell asleep, I would slip through my window and into the woods. Jacob would be waiting for me in wolf form, letting me climb on his back so he could whisk me away to Emily’s. I would wait anxiously for a call from Bella, but all I got was radio silence.

She had left the first day of break. Three days later, and she still wasn’t back. I had no explanation, no texts, and no returned calls.

Sitting at the dinner table at Emily’s was comforting. We had two new additions to the pack; Seth and Leah Clearwater.

I didn’t think Leah was meant to turn. She was twenty one, older even than Sam was when he changed. The proximity to a vampire triggered it, though, just like everyone else.

Her brother, Seth, was forced to change before his body was ready. He was only fourteen, and he had been a scrawny kid, too. The stress of his father dying and sister turning had shoved him into his own transformation.

Jacob had told me that the first change was painful for everyone, but that it had especially hurt for Seth. His body had rapidly developed the fever, shooting his temperature up from ninety-eight degrees to one hundred and eight. He had passed out, his body trying to save him some of the pain as it tore itself apart during his transformation into a wolf.

Jared had whispered to me that Seth had broken or tore nearly everything in his body. They had to call his mother to come help set it all again so he would heal properly. I realized then that rapid healing didn’t always mean correct healing.

I snapped back into reality when I realized that everyone was looking at me. I cleared my throat, “Sorry, zoned out.”

Quil laughed, “You need some sleep, Y/n.”

“I’m well aware,” I sighed, reaching out to take a sip of my water. The phone rings and Paul answers it as he’s getting another burger. His eyes go wide.

“Y/n, it’s Bella!” He says, and I’m up as soon as he says my name. I clamor around the table, nearly tripping over Jared’s large furry ass as he lays on the floor in wolf form. I quickly regain my balance as Jacob hauls me back to my feet, the two of us anxious to hear my sister speak.

“Bella?” I ask, my heart beating in my chest, “Are you okay? Where are you?”

“I’m okay, we’re all okay, Y/n,” She says, her voice slightly raw. “We’re heading back to Forks now.”

I glance at Jacob, and he gives me a meaningful look.

Carefully, I ask, “You mean yourself and Alice, right?”

She hesitates, and I sigh loudly.

“Am I on speaker? Actually, no, he can hear me anyway, right?” I don’t wait for an answer, barreling on with my rant, “Edward, you sparkly leech, leave my sister the hell alone! She was finally happy and now you have to go and mess everything up again!”

“Y/n—” Bella tries, but I cut her off again.

“No! No, he needs to hear this!” I say vehemently, “He needs to know the hell he put you through while he was traveling around the world for funsies, and how he’s going to screw everything back up by coming back!”

I speak directly to Edward now, “I don’t care if you’re some immortal vampire, asshole, if you come back to Forks to fuck up my sister’s life again, I’m gonna make you wish you had never been reborn as a sickly reanimated corpse!”

There’s silence on the other end, and I know Bella’s hurt by my words. I don’t care. Let her be hurt by the truth and by the fact that neither Charlie nor I can stand that boy.

“We’ll be back tonight,” Alice says, “I’ll deliver Bella safe and sound to your home, Edward will stay away.”

“Thank you, Alice.” I say, my voice harsh but infinitely kinder to her, “Drive safe getting here. Bella; I love you, I’ll see you soon, and also you’re grounded. Charlie’s pissed.”

She sighs, mumbling, “Yeah, I figured. I love you too, Y/n, I’ll see you tonight.

The line goes dead and I hang the phone up.

“She’ll be back home tonight,” I announce, cheers ringing up. I continue, “She’s bringing that freak back with her.”

Boos and gags sound, and it makes me feel better. An idea floats in my mind, and I grin.

“Jake, I need you to go into the spare closet of the house and get the duffle bag of clothes we haven’t donated yet.” I order, and he salutes me, grinning, before turning and running.

“Why’re you grinning like that,” Embry complains, “It’s scaring the children.”

“I’m not scared!” Seth protests, but Embry shoots him a baffled look, “I’m children! I’m scared!”

I ignore them, “Sam, I need to borrow any shirts that don’t fit you.”

He eyes me, “What for?”

“To piss off Eddie boy, what else?” I ask, going into the laundry room and finding all the clothing scraps we haven’t been able to throw away yet. I put them in an old grocery bag and set them in my room. When I get back, Jacob is panting from running to his house and back as he hands me the duffle. I grin, setting it down on the table and pulling out shirts.

I hand a pile of shirts to everyone with instructions to either hold them, wear them, or somehow make them smell like a werewolf. The biggest pile goes to Jacob, and I take the remaining pile and crouch beside Jared, still in wolf form.

“Hey buddy,” I say slyly, and he almost seems to laugh as he rolls over onto his back. I snicker as I rub several shirts over him, looking up when I hear laughter.

Quil has stuffed himself into one of my old shirts, and it looks like it’s about to burst at the seams. It fits him like a crop top, tight as a corset. I cackle as he pretends to model it, laughing harder when he moves a little too much and splits it in half.

---

When Bella comes back, I had already hidden the clothes around the house. In the vents, under her floor boards, under her mattress, in her pillows, behind the mirror in the bathroom, anywhere and everywhere I could think of was fair game. I was even wearing one of the shirts, just in case Edward made an appearance. I had a good deal of them hidden in my room, and Charlie’s. Again, just in case.

He didn’t come, thank god. Alice wrinkled her nose when she got here, but gave me a hug anyway. I hugged her tight, thanking her for keeping my sister safe.

Bella went and showered. I sat in her room and waited for her to come out. When she did, I saw how weary she looked. I didn’t ask questions, just wrapped her in a blanket and turned off the lights.

Charlie was furious the next morning, telling her she was grounded until she wasn’t anymore. She accepted it with grace.

---

Months passed. It was summer now.

I stormed into Emily’s house, throwing the door open as they all sat down for lunch.

“Woah, what’s got you bent out of shape?” Quill teased, and my scowl deepened.

“That stupid, idiotic girl is accepting him back into her life so easily!” I yell, flinging my hand out in a direction that isn’t necessary towards my house. Jacob dodges my arm easily, continuing to eat moodily.

I pitch my voice higher, “‘Oh Edward, my sickly Victorian child, I missed you so much! Please, make me your vampire child bride! I don’t want my soul anymore, I don’t care what this will do to my family, I—”

I take a shuddering breath, hot tears streaming down my face. Emily stands, coming to hug me tightly.

“Oh, Y/n,” she says quietly, rubbing my back.

“She’s so stupid,” I bite out, “Throwing away her life for—for him!”

Jacob had stopped eating, staring furiously at the table. His hands were clenched into tight fists, his body shaking. He looks up at me, his eyes blazing.

“Well then, I suppose that we’ll just have to try and be voices of reason.” He spits out, and I sniff, nodding.

“Besides Edward,” Sam said slowly, “Why does she want to become a vampire?”

I swipe at my eyes furiously, “Apparently Alice saw her as one in a vision. You know, the ones that are constantly subject to change.”

I know I sound bitter, but I feel betrayed. I don’t want to lose my sister.

---

Edward had appeared at Roy’s the day I started back. I scowled when I saw him, but he held up his hands.

“I’m here to tell you what Bella isn’t.” He said, and my attention was snagged.

I stared for a moment, then slid into the booth seat across from him. I had gotten off work already, so I had time.

“Bella wants to become a Vampire.” He said, and I nodded. “I don’t want that. I want her to remain human for as long as possible. I want her to stay human forever.”

His words surprised me. I had figured that he was the one to put ideas of vampirism into Bella’s head, but he was apparently thoroughly against it.

“She had my family vote.” My heart stopped in my chest. He continued, “Everyone voted yes aside from Rosalie and I. Neither of us want her to be changed.”

I clenched my hands into fists, “Why tell me this?”

He sighed, “Because I’m hoping that you can talk sense into her. I haven’t been able to, Rosalie can’t. You and the wolves are our last ditch effort to dissuade Bella from becoming a vampire.”

I was silent.

“What are you telling her to keep her from getting someone else to do it for her?” I asked, and he paused. I scoffed, “She wants you to do it, right?”

He nodded, and I continued, “She’s stubborn. If you won’t do it for her, she’ll get someone else to. My bet’s on Alice.”

He let out an odd sort of snarling sound, vaguely similar to one of the snorting sounds that the guys would make in wolf form when they would fight playfully. This was out of frustration, though.

“Tell her something, anything that would keep her from getting someone else to turn her,” I begged, “Buy time, and I’ll change her mind.”

Slowly, he nodded.

“I’ll do my best.” He said quietly, looking almost defeated.

He got up to leave, but I grabbed his arm.

I flinched, so used to feeling higher temperatures that it was a momentary shock to feel his frozen skin.

“Give me your number. We’ll keep each other updated so Bella can’t hide or lie.” He nodded, handing me his cell. I punched in my number, texted myself so I had his, and nodded.

“I still hate you.” I told him, “But I hate you less for this.”

He looked at me for a long moment, then let out a breathy laugh.

“I’ll take what I can get, I suppose.” He said, then added, “I did think I was doing the right thing, leaving her. I thought she would be better off.”

“She was.” I tell him, adding, “But there’s nothing we can do about that now.”

---

(Edited 1/4/25)

Ok!! Short chapter to transition between New Moon and Eclipse! I do plan to give reader some more clarity on Edward’s feelings btw bc I knowwweww he was pressed about Bella wanting to be turned.

Anyway, I hope yall enjoyed ☺️

[lizardkingeliot]

Hello, lovelies, and happy WIP Wednesday! I'm just here to drop off a tiny sneak peek of the first chapter of my upcoming rockstar Lestat/photographer Louis fic. I have no clue when I'm going to start posting but I'm hoping to have at least the first chapter up sometime next month.

But for now, I hope you all enjoy~

—

Louis felt his heart stop dead in his chest. All my songs are about you, Louis. “Twenty-eight tracks,” he heard himself saying somewhere far away. Suddenly—it was like he was floating just outside of himself. Spirit leaving his flesh like a burden lifting. “About me.”

All Lestat said in response was a breathy little—“Oui.”

Louis drew an enormous breath and let it leak back out. His heart was in his stomach. His stomach was flopping around on the floor. “About how pissed off you are at me.”

“Why would I be upset with you, Louis?”

Louis couldn’t help the laugh that puffed from his nose. “Bitter, then,” he said, trying to sound irritated but unable to keep the tenderness from his tone. “About someone else suckin’ me off a hundred years ago.”

Lestat was silent for a second or two. The rustle of him shifting crackled on the other end of the phone. “You analyzed the lyrics,” he said at last, every syllable coming out unbearably tender.

Louis laughed again, a little harder this time. “I listened to the lyrics, Lestat,” he said, and shut his eyes, and called on the image of Lestat’s face from the video. Called on the image of Lestat glowing in the dark on the other end of the phone. “Not exactly an academic pursuit to understand what you meant with that one.”

Louis pressed the phone to his ear. He could hear the drum of Lestat’s heart on the other end. Calling out like a siren ten time zones away in New Orleans.

“And so now you are angry with me,” Lestat said, his voice a purr in his throat. He sounded far too pleased with himself.

“No,” Louis said. And meant it. There were a thousand feelings roiling inside him and anger was the least of them all. “But I’m startin’ to think you want me to be.”

[anonymousewrites]

A Not-So-Disastrous Romance (Book 2) Chapter Twenty-Three

Saiki Kusuo x Reader

Chapter Twenty-Three: New Year's Premonition and Valentine's Day Gift

Summary: Saiki is forced to go to a New Year's party and Valentine's Day arrives, but at least he has (Y/N). (Honestly just a sappy chapter).

            How did I get roped into this? thought Saiki. Kaidou called my mom, so I had no choice but to go. My brother is home, so I don’t really want to be there, anyway, but being forced out is annoying. I’ll leave once everyone falls asleep. Saiki rang Kaidou’s doorbell. At least (Y/N) will be here.

            “Hey, Saiki,” yawned Kaidou as he opened the door.

            “You look tired.”

            “Come in. Nendou and (L/N) are already here,” said Kaidou, yawning again as he let Saiki in. “Sorry I’m yawning so much. I didn’t sleep much last night.”

            “I see,” said Saiki, following Kaidou.

            “Yesterday, I went to a secret meeting, the ‘Dark Committee.’ It’s held at the end of the year among the sixteen chosen ones,” said Kaidou. “It’s members are—”

            “You’re putting me to sleep.”

            The truth is, I was so excited about today I couldn’t sleep, thought Kaidou.

            What a child.

            “But don’t worry. I’ll stay up until midnight for the New Year’s celebration,” said Kaidou, opening the door to his room. “Come in. Nendou, (L/N), Saiki is here.”

            “You’re late, pal,” said Nendou. He also looked tired. He yawned.

            “Don’t sleep in my bed!” said Kaidou.

            “Sorry, I was up late playing games,” said Nendou. “Don’t worry, I can stay up New Year’s Eve.”

            You, too?

            “Hey, Kusuo,” said (Y/N), smiling and waving. “Welcome to the party.” They laughed at the tired faces of Kaidou and Nendou.

            “At least someone isn’t tired,” said Saiki.

            The doorbell rang, and Kaidou went out to grab the next person. It was Kuboyasu, who was, like the other boys, very tired.

            “Sorry, I stayed up late. Since I was coming here, I had to take care of some things beforehand,” explained Kuboyasu, yawning and sitting down.

            “Take care of what?” exclaimed Kaidou.

            “New Year Biker Gang Brawl,” said Kuboyasu.

            “It’s not the new year yet,” said Saiki, deadpanning.

            “Can you schedule that type of thing?” said (Y/N) curiously.

            “Don’t worry, I can stay up for New Year’s,” said Kuboyasu, though the circles under his eyes didn’t inspire much faith.

            “All that’s left is Hairo,” said Kaidou. “Pretty unusual for him to be late.”

            As if summoned by the mention of his name, the doorbell rang, and a tired Hairo was let in.

            “Sorry, I suddenly passed out,” said Hairo, bowing apologetically. He yawned.

            “You stayed up late, too?” said Kaidou.

            “No, I slept for eight hours,” said Hairo.

            “Then don’t complain! I haven’t slept at all!” said Kuboyasu.

            “Sorry,” said Hairo. “All I did was run fifty kilometers, practice swings three thousand times, and do five hundred push-ups and sit-ups each. I’m so out of shape!”

            “Go home and rest.”

            “Just considering that makes me tired,” said (Y/N).

            “But I will make it to midnight!” said Hairo.

            “Come on you guys, it’s New Year’s Eve!” said Kaidou. “And we still have five hours left.”

            “Don’t worry, this is important to us,” said Kuboyasu.

            “Yes,” said Nendou.

            “A piece of cake,” said Hairo.

            “We’ll keep each other awake,” said Kuboyasu.

            “Someone should keep Kaidou awake,” said (Y/N), watching his eyes slide closed even as he stood straight up.

            “Shun?” said Kuboyasu.

            Kaidou blinked and jerked awake.

            “You too?!” exclaimed the other boys.

            (Y/N) sat down next to Saiki, who sighed as he realized some ridiculous things were coming—hijinks always ensued with this group.

            “I fell asleep?” said Kaidou groggily.

            “If we mess up, we’ll all pass out,” said Kuboyasu grimly.

            “I might be able to leave pretty early,” said Saiki. He looked at (Y/N). “Do you want celebrate the two of us?”

            “Sure,” said (Y/N), smiling.

            “Saiki and (L/N) seem pretty awake,” said Kuboyasu.

            “No, I’m sleepy, too,” lied Saiki. He glanced at (Y/N). They shrugged.

            “That’s almost all of us!” said Kuboyasu.

            “If we mess up, we’ll all fall asleep and miss New Year’s,” said Kaidou.

            “Yeah, but we’ll have had fun together, and I think that’s what matters,” said (Y/N), unconcerned.

            “I think I’d just sleep through an alarm,” said Kuboyasu.

            “My parents are away on a trip to Hawaii, so they can’t help,” said Kaidou.

            “Three more hours,” said Hairo.

            “We can play cards to pass the time!” said Nendou, holding up a deck. “Let’s play old maid.” He handed out the cards. However, as soon as he began his turn and reached for a card, his eyes began to close, and he nearly dropped off.

            “Wake up! Not you too!” said Hairo. His head dropped next, even as Nendou opened his eyes.

            “I’m just resting my eyes,” he lied. “I’m up.”

            “Snoring while you’re awake is interesting,” chuckled (Y/N), leaning against the bed with Saiki.

            “I’m up!” said Hairo, head jerking up.

            “I’m going to splash my face with water! That’ll keep me up!” said Kuboyasu. A couple steps to the sink and he was nearly collapsing, though, the effort too much.

            “Wake up!” shouted everyone.

            This isn’t going well.

            “Two more hours,” groaned Kaidou as everyone struggled to keep their eyes open. “It’s almost the New Year.” He glanced at his friends and blinked tiredly. “Wake up, Nendou.”

            “Huh?” said Nendou, trying to open his eyes.

            “This coffee woke me up.” His words were confident, but Kuboyasu was staring at nothing with empty eyes. His coffee drippled down his shirt

            “I’ve overcome the worst now,” said Hairo, blinking furiously. “Hey, Kuboyasu!”

            “I passed out again,” groaned Kuboyasu.

            “I’m kind of impressed by how easily they fall asleep,” giggled (Y/N).

            “It’s entertaining at least,” agreed Saiki.

            “Time for some exercise! This will wake me out!” Hairo did push-ups, going up and down at breakneck speed.

            “That’s why you were tired to begin with,” pointed out Saiki, but he wasn’t going to stop him.

            “Look, it’s 10:30. Hairo’s bedtime,” said Kuboyasu, noticing the clock.

            “It’s definitely bedtime for him,” said (Y/N), watching the pushups stop abruptly as Hairo collapsed and began snoring.

            “Hairo, wake up!” said Kaidou, alarmed.

            “He isn’t waking up! Hairo!” shouted Kuboyasu.

            Nendou grabbed a bucket of water while Kaido and Kuboyasu shook Hairo, but nothing was waking him. Even being soaked in cold water didn’t change a thing.

            “I’m a little jealous of how well he’s sleeping,” said (Y/N).

            “We can’t wake him up at all,” said Kaidou incredulously.

            “You can’t break a habit, I guess,” said Kuboyasu.

            “Hairo is done for,” said Kaidou grimly. “At this rate, we’ll end up like that. I have an idea. One hours until midnight. What if we take turns sleeping? We’ll have fifteen minutes each.”

            “I guess with four people we don’t all need to stay awake,” said Kuboyasu.

            “Okay, let’s nap!” said Nendou.

            “Wake me up when it’s time,” said Kaidou, climbing into his bed.

            “Hold on!” said Nendou. “Why do you get to go first?”

            “Then we’ll decide by rock-paper-scissors! The winner goes first!” said Kaidou.

            “One, two, three…”

            Saiki—who played because he was being “tired”—won, of course. He lay down in the bed, and the others trudged dejectedly away.

            “Are you really going to nap?” asked (Y/N) curiously.

            “No.” Saiki sat back up pretty much immediately. “Check the other room.”

            (Y/N) peeked in and laughed. “They’re all asleep on their feet. They really need it.”

            “Let’s go and enjoy New Year’s,” said Saiki, putting on his coat.

            “I feel a bit bad that they’ll miss New Year’s, but we got to hang out, so I think it’s alright to leave them. Right?” said (Y/N).

            “Yes.” Saiki wanted to hang out alone with (Y/N) anyways. He took their hand and teleported them out. They ended up in a park that he knew would be empty.

            (Y/N) checked their watch. “It’s almost midnight. I wonder if there will be fireworks.”

            “Probably,” said Saiki.

            “Are you sure you don’t want to head back to your house? What about your parents?” said (Y/N).

            “What about yours?” said Saiki.

            “What do you think my answer will be?” said (Y/N) sheepishly.

            Saiki sighed. There was a reason his parents were bringing (Y/N) into their family (besides being his partner). “Kusuke is back for the day.”

            “Ah, that explains avoiding your family,” said (Y/N), chuckling. They watched the clock at the edge of the park click towards midnight. “But we’re with each other, so it’s not too bad.”

            “Not too bad?” repeated Saiki.

            “Don’t worry, it’ll be good soon.”

            “How?”

            The clock rang midnight, and fireworks exploded above in the air.

            “Like this.” (Y/N) smiled, held Saiki’s collar, and pulled him in for a kiss.

            Saiki could have sworn the fireworks were going off in his heart as he closed his eyes and kissed back.

            Okay. This is a good New Year’s.

            The clock continued to ring. It grew louder and shriller, and he furrowed his brow.

l

            Saiki sat up in confusion, his blankets falling off of him. He was still in his own room, and as he looked around himself, trying to establish his whereabouts, he noticed his alarm going off. It was still New Year’s.

            Was that a dream? he thought, confused. Phew. I’m not stuck at Kaidou’s for New Year’s Eve—

            He paused as a headache began.

            Oh, no. That wasn’t a…premonition. Was it?

            “Kuu!” called his mom from down the hall. “You have a call from Kaidou.”

            Saiki groaned, then he paused. He lifted his hand to his lips and smiled slightly. “Tell him I’m coming.”

            He wasn’t going to give up the chance for such a moment with (Y/N). He loved them, after all.

l

            “You were pretty eager to leave school today,” said (Y/N). They chuckled. “Does Café Mami have a sale going on or something?”

            “No, I have something to show you,” said Saiki, leading them towards his house.

            (Y/N) tilted their head curiously but smiled. “Alright!”

            They arrived at his house, and he led them inside and up to his room. He opened his desk drawer, cleared his throat, and turned back around. He held a small package wrapped in pink paper and a white bow.

            “Happy Valentine’s Day,” said Saiki.

            (Y/N)’s face lit up. They had given Saiki chocolate earlier, but they hadn’t expected anything. Saiki showed affection in other ways, not gifts typically, so this was a pleasant surprise.

            “Kusuo, thank you so much!” (Y/N) threw their arms around his neck, and he caught them while levitating the gift.

            “You haven’t even seen what it is,” said Saiki, confused.

            “I know, but it’s from you, so I’ll like,” said (Y/N), letting go with a grin.

            Saiki stared as (Y/N) said the best words he could possibly hear while they just turned away and opened the gift. They took the top off the box and smiled.

            “Oh my god!” They pulled out a stuffed animal. It was a little white cat with green glasses and a familiar collar with pink barrettes on it. It was Saiki as a cat. “So cute!”

            Saiki smiled slightly as (Y/N) hugged the cat stuffed animal. He had transformed into his cat from once in front of them, and he had never gotten so many cuddles from them. Obviously, they liked cats, so, Saiki had decided to surprise them.

            “Thank you, Kusuo,” said (Y/N), smiling again.

            “Anything for you.” Saiki watched (Y/N) with a soft smile. Wow, he really did love them.

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[cigar-aficionado]

clean me off, i'm so dirty babe ch. 1

oz cobb x reader / 1837 words / sfw (for now) / chapter 2 (nsfw!)

summary: you work at a dry cleaner that oz frequents. he's one of your favorite regulars.

tags: gn reader though oz does call them 'doll,' soooo fluffy -- next chapter will be a lil more nasty tho ;)

You’ve been working in the combination dry cleaner and laundromat in the Diamond District long enough to be able to suss out when someone’s a regular businessman and when someone’s…well, not. 

The regular who identified himself as Oz Cobb was, decidedly not. However, you could tell that he wasn’t like the others. 

The first and most obvious sign that threw you initially was that he handled this business himself. Other people whose money came from underground had lackeys, or more typically, lackeys of lackeys to drop off and pick up their clothes. You couldn’t count the amount of times a twenty-something in thrifted boots came in with a stack of $4000 suits. It wasn’t subtle. 

Oz was different, though. His suits were expensive, but it was usually the same set of four or five paired with maybe seven or eight shirts – occasionally there would be a new suit in there, though no more often than a regular-person banker or lawyer or, you supposed, club owner.

He was kind. That was something else that set him apart from most of the other businessmen who came through. Probably most importantly, Oz always tipped you and often it was very well. But his kindness extended beyond that – he smiled when he came in, chatted when you were matching his order slip (which he always remembered to bring) to his clothes, and never rushed you through the scanning and checkout process. 

When he dropped off his clothes, he always pointed out stains he needed work on, apologizing for them (and you, of course, pretended not to know that the stains on his crisp white shirts were definitely blood. You also pointedly ignored how often he came in with shirts splattered with something that was definitely blood.) 

And, unlike a lot of these messy not-businesspeople, his pockets were always empty. You had a habit of running into things that you shouldn’t have tucked in those blazer or trouser pockets, be it cash in hundreds, pills, or occasionally a bullet, which you always put in a small plastic bag to be discreetly tucked into the blazer pocket later. Usually when you saw that same suit again, it came with a massive tip. 

Oz wasn’t messy like that though, he was clearly meticulous with his clothing and his belongings – not like someone who could afford to be careless. 

You grew to look forward to seeing Oz, he and the unmistakable car he always pulled up in were like a breath of fresh air. 

One day, a completely dead afternoon, he came in at around his usual time for pickup. You didn’t need to look at his slip to know where his things were, “Hey Oz,” you said as he walked in, the bell on the door ringing behind him, “how’s your Tuesday?” 

“It’d be a lot better without this heat, I gotta tell’ya. How’re you?” 

You came out with his suits, hanging them on the rack by the counter and catching that he wasn’t wearing one of his usual blazer. You’re not sure you’ve ever really seen his body before this and were you not on the clock you’d probably be blushing, but you maintain professional stoicism, clearing your throat, “I’m alright, it’s been very slow today. Pros and cons, you know.” 

He nods and you take the first suit to scan it in when something catches your eye, “Shit – ah, pardon my language,” you say, hurriedly flipping through the short stack of suits in front of you.

“Everything alright?”

“Ugh, my boss let the new guy do these while I was out and he didn’t crease any of your pants. I’m so sorry, Sir, I can have them done in about twenty minutes if you don’t mind waiting, but I can give you a discount on them if you need to head out. I’m so sorry again.” 

“‘S alright, Doll. Shit happens, ain’t the end of the world.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket, glancing at it before looking at you with those big brown eyes, “To be honest with’ya? I really don’t feel like going back out there. It’s nice and cool in here, and I got a little time anyway. If you have time to take care of them now, I’ve got time to wait.” 

“Thank you, Sir. I appreciate your uh – “ not being a total asshole about this “ – flexibility.” 

“All good. And you don’t have to call me ‘Sir,’ Oz is fine.” 

“Okay, Oz,” you smile, “I just put on some coffee, would you like some?” 

“Honestly, that sounds wonderful. Thank you.” 

You give him another smile, “You can come get it, it's just to the left here,” you say, pointing to the machine and mini fridge just past the space to get behind the counter. 

He looks at it and laughs a little as he makes his way over, “VIP treatment, unless you’re this nice to all your customers?” 

You chuckle, shaking your head and going to the creaser with his suits, hanging them up on the rack next to it, “You might be the first. But you’re in here like clockwork and you always remember your slip, so you get the privilege of the secret menu.” 

“Well, color me flattered,” You get to work, as does he, and it’s silent until he opens the fridge. “This caramel macchiato creamer thing any good?” 

“Oh yeah, that’s mine, it’s my favorite,” you say, carefully setting the first pair of his pants in the machine. “It’s a little sweet, they do a good job with the caramel, though.” 

“Hm.” You continue to work, practically on autopilot, and you hear him hum happily, “This is excellent, I’ll have to get some for my place.” 

“Good! I’m glad you like it.” He walks back to the waiting area in front of the counter. You work some more before calling out to him, “Any plans this weekend?” 

“Eh, the club’s been real busy lately. Which is great, I’m thrilled about it but you know – doesn't leave a lot of time for rest. Barely been sleepin’. Anyway, I’ll probably be there, keepin’ an eye on things. Gave myself tomorrow off, maybe I’ll try to rest then.” 

“I hope you catch up on your sleep, it’s so important,” you say. “That and self-care, do you get massages?” 

“Not really my thing.”

“Probably no facials either?” 

He laughs, a full yet bright sound, “No facials either.” 

“They’re nice! Especially if you work hard, which I know you must.” 

“Maybe I oughta listen to you, you know coffee. My clothes always look good when I get them back, too.” 

You beam, “I’m so glad to hear that.” 

You work on the rest of his pants, chatting with Oz as you do. It’s easy conversation between the two of you, swapping restaurant recommendations and making other small talk. You’re about to start the last pair and think about asking him out, innocently enough, but then his phone rings and he takes the call. 

He’s speaking Spanish and while you’re not fluent, you were good at it through school so you can understand the gist. Someone close to Oz, especially if his face was any indication, had been found down the street. There’s a brief argument about her medications, about long-term care for her. Oz hangs up with a deep sigh. “Sorry, Doll, that was my shift lead at the club. Needs me in for a really important meeting, completely forgot about it. You know how it is. Would I be able to come in a little later and pick these up?” 

You suspect this isn’t the first time that Oz has lied to you, but it’s the first time you’re able to see it. You turn around and give him a smile, “Absolutely, no trouble at all.” 

“I’ll be back before you close. Thanks for understandin’.” 

True to his word, he does come back in the evening. You weren’t sure if he would; you imagine he has other things on his mind. He looks much calmer than when he left earlier, his smile contagious. “Welcome back,” you say, moving to get his suits. 

“Glad to be back,” he laughs, coming to the counter. You hang his suits on the rack and he breaks the silence, placing a sequined dress on the counter between you. “I’ve got a question for ya, do you do repairs?” 

“What do you need?” You ask, looking at the dress. 

“Well, it needs to be cleaned first, it’s – it’s my sister’s, she asked me to take care of it but I’m not sure something like this can even go in a washing machine. Anyway, there’re some missing sequins – where’d they go…” he murmurs softly as he turns over the fabric until he reaches a small but obvious section of missing sequins toward the bottom, running his fingers over it. “Right here, would you be able to fill in the gap here?” 

You take the dress, looking over the spot and nodding, “Absolutely, that’s no problem. It’ll take a little longer because I think I’ll have to order these sequins and I’ll have to do it by hand – you can with the sewing machine, but I don’t think it looks as nice.” 

“You’re a lifesaver. She was real upset about it, I told her though, I said ‘I know where I can take this and they’ll make it good as new.’” 

You chuckle, “I admire your faith in me. When does she need it back by?” 

“Oh, whenever. I don’t think she’s got anything coming up for it.” 

“Awesome. I can call you with a price estimate once I look at the new sequins.” 

“Sounds good.” 

Oz paid his bill for the rest of his suits, thanking you again. “Today was kinda – didn’t go as well as I’d hoped. But this made it better, thank you.” 

He turns to leave and head for the door but you stop him, calling his name. Maybe it was the way he thanked you, maybe it was his confidence in your skill, maybe it was that he liked the coffee but before you can stop yourself, you’re writing down your number on the back of a dry clean ticket, stepping out from behind the counter. You’ve never really looked at him this closely before, your gaze flickering to the tufts of hair peeking out from the undone button on his shirt. He’s looking at you curiously and you will yourself to speak. 

“Um – “ you clear your throat, handing over the paper “ – that’s my personal cell. In case she needs her dress back early or…in case you want to get dinner sometime?” 

Oz smiles but it’s not one of his customer service interaction smiles – it’s something real, like when he was sipping your coffee earlier. “Well look’it that, you just keep making my night better and better. I’ll text you about plans later tonight, this week’s a little busy but I’m sure I can make some time.” 

You smile brightly, “Perfect. I’ll be around.”

“Have a good night, Doll.” 

[jetii]

Event Horizon

Chapter Twenty-Six: Endurance

Chapter WC: 8,685

A/N: This chapter was supposed to just be about the boys, but I couldn't help but throw in a little extra treat. Also I'm going to put up a poll about the cover of this fic today, please vote if you can!

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Join the Taglist | Masterlist

Hyperspace, 21 BBY

After a whirlwind of meetings and introductions, and far too much talking, you were finally aboard the Oracle and on your way to Bothawui. You’d never in your life met so many people in such a short time, and while you were sure some would argue that was part of being a general, you couldn't help but feel drained and exhausted by the constant barrage of faces and names.

Thankfully, Booker was there to help, acting as a buffer between you and the rest of the world. He was surprisingly good at it, keeping everyone at arm's length while still making it seem like you were the friendliest and most approachable general anyone had ever met. It was a skill you had no idea he possessed, and one you were more than happy to take advantage of. The men respected him, and as far as you could tell, they didn't resent your presence. Even if you were starting to become undeniably cranky and snappy.

After a day and a half, however, things had finally begun to settle down, and the routine had started to take hold. You were still meeting and greeting and making friends, but the constant barrage of faces was finally becoming manageable, and the ship's crew and officers had stopped jumping at the chance to shake your hand. And while the men were still eager to introduce themselves, the novelty of a new general had begun to wear off. Which was a relief, considering how little sleep you'd gotten in the last forty-eight hours.

"What about green?" Booker asks, his gaze never leaving the datapad in his hands. "That would look good."

You give a noncommittal hum from somewhere in your chest and shift in your seat, trying desperately to get comfortable. The two of you have been in the conference room for the better part of the evening, discussing everything from supplies to battle strategies. And while you were enjoying his company and the chance to talk, it's getting late, and your body is screaming at you to rest.

“That’s fine,” you mumble, stifling a yawn.

“Or maybe something darker. Black?”

“Great.”

You close your eyes and lean back, the soft whirring of the ventilation system a welcome distraction. You listen to the gentle rhythm, the sound slowly fading into the background as your thoughts begin to drift.

The last couple of days had gone by in a blur, and it was only now that you were finally able to slow down and catch your breath. There had been a dozen meetings, a hundred questions, and a thousand decisions, and it was starting to take its toll. You hadn't realized exactly how much planning went into war until now, and the grey hairs starting to sprout from Obi-Wan's temples are beginning to make a lot more sense to you.

Your thoughts turn to him, and you can't help but wonder how he's doing. The two of you had spoken a few times, the conversation focused more on your respective divisions and the status of the war than anything else. You’d tried to keep the tone light, avoiding the topic of what had happened between the two of you. But even the briefest mention of Rex had caused a flash of sadness to pass over his face, and a twinge of guilt had twisted your gut.

The two of you were struggling, but both of you were trying your best to move past it. That was all that mattered. At least for now.

As for Rex, you'd messaged him a few times since you left, but the two of you had yet to have a chance to comm each other. The men had kept you busy, and he'd had his hands full with the 501st. As much as it pained you to admit, the distance was probably for the best. At least until you figured out exactly what it was that you were doing. Or rather, what it was that you were not doing.

“…And I was thinking I could paint a giant target on my armor and put myself on the front line. What do you think about that, sir?"

You blink, snapping back to the present, the image of Rex's face fading away. You glance at Booker to see he's staring at you, his eyebrows raised expectantly.

"Uh, sorry, what was that?" you ask. Booker lets out a dramatic sigh and sets his datapad on the table.

"I was just saying how nice it is to have a general who listens," he drawls. "Really pays attention to every single word."

"I'm listening," you mumble, stifling a yawn.

"Right," he replies. He crosses his arms, his gaze never leaving your face. "You're tired."

"I'm fine," you tell him. The lie is weak, even to your own ears, and you let out a frustrated groan, running a hand over your face. "Okay, yeah, I'm tired. Sorry. I just—"

"Need some sleep?" Booker finishes, his voice gentle. You shake your head, rubbing the exhaustion out of your eyes.

"No, no," you mutter. "It's fine. We can keep going."

He leans forward, resting his forearms on the table, and gives you a look. It’s not quite a glare, but it's close, and it’s so like Rex that it's startling. For a second, you're thrown back to the night in your quarters, Rex kneeling in front of you, the two of you staring at each other as he gently coaxed you into letting him take care of you. Then his words, his reminder to focus on your men and not your demons, ring through your mind. And suddenly, you're feeling a little less stubborn. A little more open to listening.

"Fine," you grumble, crossing your arms. "What do you want?"

"For you to get some rest," he says. You frown, and he holds up a hand, his expression shifting to a stern look. "Sir, you've been up for 16 hours.”

“I haven’t—“

“I’ve been keeping track," he tells you, cutting you off. "And as much as I enjoy your company, the men need you well-rested and alert. Not half-dead and sleep deprived."

Your jaw clenches, the urge to argue rising, but you force it back down. You know he's right, and the fact that he's willing to call you out on it, no matter how gently, is a testament to his character. And as much as you hate to admit it, you can feel the fatigue beginning to creep in, the desire to curl up and hide tugging at the edges of your consciousness.

You give a small sigh, and he flashes you a smile.

"Alright," you relent. "I'll turn in."

You stand and stretch, letting out a soft groan. Your spine pops, and you roll your shoulders, working the kinks out of your neck. You can't help but feel a little embarrassed by the fact that Booker has been keeping tabs on your habits, and while part of you wants to call him out for it, the other part of you is grateful for the concern. And you suppose that a man who's always looking out for his brothers will most likely be just as vigilant about looking out for his superior officers. Just as Rex was. Is. Will be.

The thought of the Captain sends a stab of pain through your chest, and you grimace, forcing the memory aside.

"Are you sure there isn't anything else?" you ask. You gesture towards the datapad on the table. "There's still a lot we have to go through."

"I'm sure. Besides, I'd rather you be well-rested for drills tomorrow."

You frown, the comment catching you off guard. "Drills? Tomorrow?"

"Yeah," he says as he stands and walks around the table, stopping beside you. "Figured it'd be a good idea. Get a feel for the men. See how they perform."

"I don't—"

"You're their commanding officer, sir," he interrupts, and he rests a hand on your shoulder. "You need to know what they're capable of. So do I. And the best way to find out is by putting them through their paces. That way, we can make sure they're prepared."

His tone is light, almost teasing, but his words are serious, and there's a glint in his eye that leaves no room for argument. And as much as you want to protest, the truth is that he's right. You need to see the men in action, to test their abilities. To see where their strengths and weaknesses lie. And the only way to do that is by testing them yourself.

You let out a resigned sigh and offer a small, grateful smile.

"I guess I'm gonna need to get some rest, huh?"

"That's the plan," Booker says. His hand slides off your shoulder, and he reaches over, picking up the datapad. "C’mon. I’ll walk you back to your quarters."

The two of you start down the hall, and Booker continues to fill you in on the details, his words fading into the background as your mind starts to drift. You're barely listening, and the only thing you can focus on is the gentle rumble of his voice and the sound of his footsteps beside you.

He seems different somehow, a little more serious, a little more thoughtful. You can tell the reality of command is settling over him, and while you're sure he's struggling with the responsibility, you can't help but be impressed by his composure. It's as if his personality has shifted, the uncertain, reckless cadet morphing into a more serious, responsible soldier. He's taking his role seriously, and the thought is comforting.

As the two of you round the corner, your comm chimes, the sudden sound making you jump. You stop and pull the device out, checking the message.

Rex: Hey. How's it going?

Your heart stutters in your chest, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at the screen. Then, with a sharp breath, you type out a response, your fingers flying across the keys.

You: Good. Busy. Tired. But good. You?

Rex’s answer comes almost immediately.

Rex: Same. Glad to hear it's going well.

There's a pause, and a new message appears.

Rex: Can we talk?

Your heart leaps into your throat, and a flood of emotions wash over you. Excitement, anxiety, fear, anticipation, they all crash over you, a tidal wave threatening to drown you.

You type out a response, hesitating before hitting send.

You: Of course.

Another message pops up.

Rex: Comm me in 15 minutes. Don't forget.

You let out a quiet laugh, and you glance up, realizing Booker is staring at you, a small smile on his face. You flush, embarrassed, and you slide the comm back into your pocket, clearing your throat.

"Sorry," you mutter. "That was a friend."

"A friend, huh?" Booker asks, his tone teasing.

"Yes, a friend," you reply, giving him a sharp look.

"Well, your friend should have waited until morning," he tells you. "You need rest."

"He knows," you say, your voice softer than intended. Booker raises an eyebrow, and he glances at the pocket where your comm is sitting. Then his expression changes, a knowing smile spreading across his face.

"Ah," he says. "I get it."

You feel your cheeks burn, and you turn, continuing down the hall. He's following, his strides long and easy. You can feel his eyes on the back of your head, and the urge to snap at him is strong. But the truth is, you don't have the energy, and you're too focused on the promise of speaking with Rex to care.

You turn down another corridor, and Booker falls back into step beside you. He’s still watching you, but he doesn't speak, and you're thankful for the respite. You need a few moments to compose yourself, to collect your thoughts, to calm the flurry of emotions running rampant through your body.

Finally, you come to a stop in front of the door leading to your quarters, and you turn, looking up at him.

"Thank you," you tell him, your tone sincere. He grins, and he gives a slight nod.

"You're welcome, sir," he says. "Get some rest. Try not to stay up too late."

"What—"

Booker turns on his heel, waving a hand over his shoulder. "Have a good night, sir. I'll see you bright and early tomorrow."

Before you can respond, he's gone, disappearing around the corner, leaving you standing alone in the empty hallway. For a moment, all you can do is stare, and it's only the sudden chime of the chronometer that snaps you out of it. You pull the comm out of your pocket and unlock the door, stepping into your quarters and typing a quick message.

You: I'm here. Are you ready?

A response appears a few seconds later.

Rex: Whenever you are.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm the pounding of your heart, and you tap the button on the screen, connecting the call. There's a second of static, and then the sound of Rex's voice fills the room, his tone warm and familiar.

"Hi."

The single word is enough to make you smile, and you settle on the edge of your bed, taking a moment to steady yourself.

"Hey," you say. "It's good to hear your voice."

"You too," he replies. There's a slight hesitation, and you can hear the sound of him taking a breath. Then, a hint of worry in his tone. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes," you reply. You let out a quiet laugh. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"You've been busy," he replies. There's another pause, and the air shifts, a feeling of apprehension falling over the conversation. "I didn't want to interrupt. Thought you might be getting tired of hearing from me."

"I'm never tired of hearing from you," you tell him, and the words are out of your mouth before you realize what you're saying. You blush, heat spreading across your face, and you're glad he can't see you. "I mean...it's nice. Talking to you."

You wince at the words, a flash of embarrassment rushing through you. That didn't come out right, either. You've barely said anything and you've already made a mess of things. And if the awkward silence coming from the comm is any indication, he's not taking it well.

But as the moment stretches, a spark of frustration ignites inside of you. It's not as if anything has changed between the two of you. Yes, the conversation is a bit uncomfortable, but that's only because you're trying so hard to keep things platonic. If you'd simply act natural, relax, let the conversation flow naturally, it wouldn't be so hard.

You take a deep breath and let the annoyance fade, replacing it with determination. You're not going to let this become a barrier between the two of you. If he can talk to you as a friend, so can you. And if that's all you can be, well, that's fine.

Besides, there's no reason why the two of you can't enjoy each other's company. Even if it's not quite what you want, even if it's not the kind of relationship you crave, the time spent together is still meaningful. It still matters. It's still something that brings you both comfort and joy.

And if the friendship is enough, well, that's better than nothing.

"I agree," Rex says, breaking the silence. His voice is gentle, and you can almost hear the smile in his words. "Even if you do sound tired."

You roll your eyes, letting out a scoff as you lean down and start to undo the buckles on your boots. "I'm not that tired."

"Sure," he drawls.

"I'm not," you reply, a slight note of indignation in your voice.

"Then why are you taking off your boots?"

You pause, caught off guard by the question. "How did—?"

"I can hear the buckles," he says, a hint of amusement in his voice. "It's pretty loud."

You let out a quiet sigh, your cheeks burning, and you set your boots aside. Your armor comes next, then your belt and tabards. The weight disappears from your shoulders, and you lean back, lying on the bed and staring up at the ceiling.

"Alright, maybe I'm a little tired," you admit. You close your eyes, enjoying the feeling of the mattress against your back.

"Just a little," he teases.

"Shut up," you mumble, a small grin on your face. "You know you're just as bad."

"I never claimed otherwise," he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice. "How're things? The new legion treating you well?"

You close your eyes and let out a quiet hum, shifting into a more comfortable position. You can hear the concern in his voice, and you're glad that he's checking up on you. Even if it's for a brief moment.

"They're great," you answer, your voice soft. "A little eager, but that's expected. We're working through it."

Rex chuckles. "Sounds about right. Give 'em a few weeks. They'll figure it out."

"I hope so," you reply.

There's a moment of silence, and you find yourself drifting, the warmth and safety of your quarters lulling you into a sense of comfort. You yawn, your body sinking deeper into the bed, the weariness of the past few days beginning to catch up to you. You know you should get ready for bed, should take a shower and brush your teeth and change into something more comfortable, but the thought of moving is too exhausting.

"I can let you go, if you want," Rex offers, and the hint of reluctance in his voice makes you smile. "I know you're tired."

"No, I'm fine," you say. You open your eyes, blinking away the fatigue. "I'd rather talk to you. Even if I'm half-asleep."

Rex lets out a soft chuckle. "That doesn't bode well for the conversation."

"Doesn't matter," you murmur. "I like talking to you."

There's a pause, and you can practically hear the surprise in his voice. "Yeah?"

You let out a snort, and you roll onto your side, pulling the blanket up over yourself. "Yes, Rex, I like talking to you. A lot."

The admission leaves your mouth before you can stop it, and you're suddenly grateful that he can't see the blush that spreads across your face. You wince, the embarrassment hitting you full force. Maybe the lack of sleep is affecting you more than you thought. You should have kept your mouth shut. At least until you weren't half-delirious.

"I like talking to you too," Rex replies, his voice soft.

"Good," you say. You take a deep breath and close your eyes, settling in. "Then let's talk. Tell me how the 501st is doing."

Rex begins to tell you about the men, his voice low and soothing. The new men he picked up on Kamino, his concerns about their training, the adjustments he's made to the command structure. He keeps the details light, avoiding anything too technical, and his words drift through the room, lulling you into a drowsy, contented state.

After a while, he trails off, and a moment of silence settles over the call.

"Are you still awake?"

"Mhm," you murmur, the sound muffled by the pillow. "Just resting my eyes."

"Right," he says, the doubt in his voice apparent. There's another pause, and you can hear him shift, his breath catching slightly. "Do you... do you mind if I keep talking?"

You give a slight shake of your head. "No, not at all."

"Alright," he says. Another pause, and the hesitance is back. As if he's worried about saying something wrong. Something that will break the spell. "I don't want to keep you up."

"I'm listening," you assure him.

He lets out a quiet sigh, and he falls silent. For a moment, you wonder if the call has dropped, or if the connection is bad, or if the battery on his comm has died. But just as the thought enters your mind, his voice cuts through the darkness, soft and gentle.

"I've missed you," he admits. "More than I expected."

Your chest tightens, and you open your eyes, staring up at the ceiling. It's strange, how a few words can cause such a visceral reaction, but the feeling is undeniable. It's as if a part of you is waking up, stretching, reaching for something.

It's only been a few days since you've seen him, but the longing is already setting in. The need to see his face. Hear his voice. Feel his presence. It's a need that grows stronger with every passing moment.

"I've missed you too," you reply, your voice a whisper. "More than I probably should."

Rex lets out a short, humorless laugh. "Yeah."

There's another moment of silence, and you find yourself drifting, your thoughts beginning to slow. It's only the sound of his voice that keeps you from falling asleep, and you can't help but wonder if he's doing the same. If he's staying awake just to listen to the sound of your breathing.

"Are you still with me?" he asks.

"Yeah," you mumble, turning onto your side. You adjust the pillow, propping it up, and curl onto your side, hugging the soft fabric. You can feel sleep starting to claim you, and you're not sure how long you'll be able to fight it. "I'm here."

"You should get some sleep," he says, his voice gentle. "You're gonna need it."

You hum softly, closing your eyes and letting the darkness consume you. "Only if you promise to stay with me. Until I fall asleep."

There's a brief pause, and a wave of self-consciousness rushes through you. But before the doubt can take root, he speaks.

"I'm not going anywhere," he says, his voice warm. You can hear the smile in his words, and the tightness in your chest loosens, a feeling of calm washing over you. "Close your eyes. Get comfortable."

You let out a quiet hum and obey, snuggling deeper into the blankets, pulling the sheets up around your shoulders. You can hear the soft sound of his breathing, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. He's lying in bed too, just as tired and worn out as you are, his comm tucked under his ear.

For a moment, neither of you speak, and the quiet that surrounds you is comforting, a blanket of calm settling over the room. It's nice, being able to simply exist, to be alone with each other, no words needed. And while it's not exactly the same as being in the same place, being in the same bed, it's enough. For now.

Finally, he breaks the silence, his voice a low rumble. "Can I ask you something?"

"Mhm."

"Do you think..." He trails off, his words fading. You open your eyes and peer at the comm, waiting for him to continue. When he does, his voice is hesitant. "Do you think the war will ever end?"

The question catches you off guard, and for a moment, all you can do is blink, trying to process his words. In truth, you're not sure if the war will ever end. There's a part of you that hopes so, a part of you that wants peace more than anything, but there's a darker, more cynical part of you that's beginning to doubt it. That's beginning to wonder if the fighting will ever end. Or if the galaxy will be trapped in a never-ending cycle of war and destruction.

You let out a small sigh, closing your eyes once more.

"I don't know," you murmur. "But I hope so."

"Yeah," Rex replies, his tone distant. "Me too."

There's a brief silence, and you can hear the sound of fabric shifting. You imagine him rolling onto his side, adjusting his blankets, getting comfortable. Then he clears his throat, his voice barely audible.

"If it does end, though, I..." He trails off, and a slight note of uncertainty creeps into his tone. "I mean, will we...?"

He doesn't finish, and the question hangs in the air, unspoken. Will we still see each other? Will we stay friends? Will we still talk? Will we still care about each other? The thoughts race through your mind, and a knot forms in your stomach, the possibilities making you dizzy. You can't bear the thought of losing him, of losing what you have, and the mere idea of him not being a part of your life makes your chest ache.

The truth is, you need him. You need him in a way that's different from anyone else. A way that's beyond the platonic, beyond the physical, beyond the romantic. You need him because he understands you. He sees you. And the thought of being without him, of not having him by your side, of not hearing his voice, is too much to bear.

The reality of it is enough to snap you out of your stupor, and a rush of courage flows through you.

"I hope so," you whisper, the words barely audible. "I want us to."

A soft laugh escapes him, and you can almost hear the relief in his voice.

"Good," he murmurs. "So do I."

"Good," you sigh. You close your eyes, allowing the exhaustion to finally pull you under, and the sound of his breathing washes over you, carrying you deeper into the darkness.

You're not sure how long the two of you stay like that, how long the call lasts, or if he even stays awake. But the last thing you remember before the blackness claims you is the gentle hum of his voice, the quiet, steady rhythm lulling you to sleep.

Your comm is still on when you wake in the morning. It lies face up on your pillow, and when you check it, the screen is still active, the call still connected. You smile and bring the device closer, and when you hear the sound of a soft snore, your heart stutters. He's still there. He stayed.

For a moment, all you can do is lie there, staring at the comm, listening to the gentle rise and fall of his breathing. Then, as carefully as possible, you tap the button on the side, disconnecting the call. The screen goes dark, and the sound cuts off, leaving you alone in the silence.

You set the comm aside, and as you climb out of bed, you can't help but wonder how many more moments like this you'll get to have. How many more late-night calls, how many more stolen hours. How many more nights spent curled up next to the comm, his voice filling the air.

You know the answer, and it's not a pleasant one. You're going to be on the front lines, constantly in motion, constantly fighting. And if the war drags on, as it seems likely to, the two of you will be spread apart, the distance between you increasing exponentially. And even if somehow the universe sees fit to grant the two of you a respite, there's no guarantee that it will last. No guarantee that it will allow you the chance to truly enjoy each other's company.

You stand, shaking the thoughts away. It doesn't matter. What's done is done. And whatever happens, whatever the future holds, the two of you will make it work. You have to. Because the alternative is too painful to contemplate.

And if the only time the two of you can spend together is in the form of a few stolen moments, a few late-night conversations, a few whispered words, well, that's better than nothing.

With a sigh, you haul yourself out of bed, determined to start the day with a clean slate. It's going to be a long one, and the last thing you need is to let the negativity consume you. So, you push the doubts and fears and worries aside and get dressed, the familiar routine calming your nerves.

After a quick shower and a change of clothes, and a quick trip to the mess hall, you make your way to the hangar. There’s a commotion as the troops work together to clear out the space, and a flurry of activity fills the air, the sound of metal boots echoing throughout the room.

Booker is standing near the entrance, a datapad in hand. Like most of the men, he’s dressed in the lower half of his armor, leaving the black undersuit visible. He glances up as you approach, and a grin spreads across his face, his eyes bright.

"Good morning, sir," he greets, his voice loud enough to be heard over the din.

"Good morning," you reply, and you give him a tired smile. "You're chipper today."

He laughs and sets the datapad on a nearby crate, crossing his arms. "I'm always chipper, sir. Just like you're always grumpy."

You glare at him, but the look only makes him laugh.

"C'mon," he says, jerking his head towards the open space. "We're ready to go."

You follow him across the hangar, weaving through the sea of troopers, and a moment later, the two of you are standing in the middle of the room, the men forming a large circle around you. There's a hush as the group gathers, and Booker turns, addressing the troops.

"Listen up!" he calls, his voice booming through the room. The men immediately straighten, their attention focused on the pair of you. "Today, we'll be conducting drills. Hand-to-hand combat and weapons training."

You step forward, and you raise your voice, addressing the men. "I know most of you have had basic training, but today will be different. Today, I want to see what you can do. Who has the fastest reaction times. Who has the best accuracy. Who can take a hit and keep going. We'll go through each of the weapons, and we'll spar. Everyone. Even me."

You pause, allowing the men to absorb your words.

"It's important that you're well-prepared," you continue. "Because once we reach the battlefield, there's no room for error. Every second, every movement, counts. So, let's get to work."

The men immediately scramble to various stations, grabbing blasters and helmets and other equipment. You watch as they work together, passing gear between each other. They're efficient and organized, and the sight is enough to ease some of the pressure. At least you know these men will be able to handle themselves.

After a few minutes, everyone is suited up, and the hangar is filled with the hum of blasters and the sound of shouting. You glance at Booker, and you share a knowing smile. Then, without another word, the two of you move, heading towards the nearest station.

It's a good three hours before the first break is called, and by the time it is, the entire hangar is hot and sweaty and exhausted. The men gather around, their chests heaving, their faces covered in grime. And, while some are showing signs of weariness, most are smiling and joking with each other, their spirits high.

You're leaning against the wall, sipping water and watching the troops, and Booker is sitting on the floor, his legs stretched out in front of him, his hands resting behind his head. The two of you watch as a few soldiers begin to spar, and the rest gather around, cheering them on.

"They're doing well," Booker observes, his voice soft.

You nod, watching as a trooper manages to land a kick, sending his opponent staggering. The sound of their laughter fills the air, and you can't help but smile.

"Yeah," you agree. "They're a good group."

The two of you fall silent, and you find yourself thinking about Rex, wondering how his men are doing. Wondering how he's doing. The image of his face, the soft sound of his voice, fills your mind, and the memory is enough to send a warm tingle down your spine.

"So," Booker begins, pulling you from your thoughts. You glance at him, raising an eyebrow, and he gives you a look. "Still regretting that promotion?"

You roll your eyes and turn, leaning against the wall and crossing your arms. You stare at the floor as you consider his question. After a moment, you give a slight shake of your head, letting out a quiet laugh.

"No," you admit. "Not anymore."

Booker smiles, his eyes sparkling. "Good."

The larger of the two clones lands a solid hit, sending his opponent to the ground, and you wince at the sound of impact. But the men are laughing, and a few seconds later, they're helping their fallen comrade to his feet, clapping him on the back. Blood streams from his nose, but he doesn't seem to care, a wide grin on his face as one of the men steps forward and ruffles his hair.

"Is that Dash?" you ask, pointing at the clone with the bloodied face. Booker glances over, and his expression softens.

"Yeah," he replies. "That's him."

The clone looks over at the sound of his name, and his face lights up, a wide smile spreading across his face. He raises a hand in a wave, and you give a small nod, acknowledging the gesture. You'd forgotten how young he was. You hadn't seen him since the battle of Kamino, and the memory of him standing before you, his hands twisting nervously, is suddenly fresh in your mind. He's taller now, more confident, but there's still a hint of anxiety in his eyes.

"How's he doing?" you murmur to Booker, turning your head so that the men can't see your lips move.

"He's good," Booker answers, his voice low. "He's got a lot of potential."

You nod, watching as Dash takes a few steps forward, stopping in front of the two of you. The rest of the men disperse, returning to their sparring and their shooting, and the three of you are left alone.

Dash's smile is a little less enthusiastic now, and a light flush creeps across his face. He stands awkwardly, his hands clasped behind his back, his feet shifting nervously.

"General," he greets, giving a slight nod. "It's an honor."

"How are you, Dash?" you ask, keeping your tone friendly.

"I'm good, sir," he replies. He wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, and it comes away smeared with blood. "You?"

You give him a smile, trying to hide the concern on your face. "I'm fine. Are you alright? Your nose is bleeding."

Dash blinks, seemingly surprised, and he brings his hand up, pressing a finger to his nose. It comes away red, and he glances at his hand with a frown. He opens his mouth, but no words come out, and after a moment, he simply shrugs, a sheepish grin spreading across his face.

"Uh, yeah," he mumbles, looking embarrassed.

"Hey," Booker cuts in. "Why don't you take a seat?"

He pats the spot next to him, and Dash nods, sinking to the floor. You settle beside him, your back against the wall, and you hand him a towel. He takes it gratefully, pressing the cloth to his nose.

"Thanks," he mutters, his voice muffled.

"No problem," you tell him. You glance at his face, studying the injury. His nose isn't broken, and the bleeding has slowed, but the bruise is already starting to form. "Who were you fighting?"

"Screwball," Dash answers, gesturing to the clone. The man in question is currently sparring with another trooper, and the two of them are locked in a fierce battle. You watch, impressed, as Screwball manages to knock his opponent's feet out from under him, and a few seconds later, the soldier is on his back, the larger clone straddling his chest.

Dash lets out a snort, and he shakes his head.

"That was fast," he mutters. "He's good."

"He is," you agree, your eyes never leaving the fight. Screwball has managed to pin his opponent, and he's using his weight to his advantage, holding the man in place. After a moment, the soldier slumps, signaling his surrender, and Screwball leaps to his feet, a broad grin on his face.

"You're not so bad, yourself," you add, glancing at Dash. He meets your gaze, a shy smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You held your own."

His cheeks turn a deep red, and he ducks his head, a soft laugh escaping him. You give him a gentle pat on the shoulder, and his blush darkens.

"Thanks, sir," he mumbles.

"Just telling the truth," you say, shrugging. "You're leaving yourself open, though."

Dash's eyebrows furrow, and he turns his attention to you.

"What do you mean?"

"Your left side," you explain. "You're leaving it open. If your opponent is fast enough, they'll be able to get a shot in. Like this."

You swing your leg out, and the tip of your boot connects with his ribs. It's a gentle kick, but he flinches, hissing in pain. He doubles over, clutching his side, and you offer an apologetic smile.

"Sorry," you say. "I didn't mean to hit that hard."

"It's fine," Dash says, his voice strained.

"Try again," you instruct, getting to your feet. Dash takes a deep breath, and he rolls his shoulders, shaking out his limbs. He plants his feet, his fists clenched, and he squares his shoulders, ready for the next blow. You take a step back, and you swing your leg, aiming for his right side this time.

He doesn't flinch, and he's able to block the kick, his forearm connecting with your shin. He grunts, and you grin, impressed.

"Good," you tell him, taking a step back. "Better. Now, try the same thing, but switch sides."

He nods, and he plants his feet again, his arms held loosely at his sides. This time, he's quicker, and he's able to deflect your kick, his hand coming up and grabbing your ankle. You yelp as he twists, yanking your foot off the ground, though the maneuver doesn't catch you off guard. You let your body fall, landing on the ground, and you twist your leg, freeing yourself from his grasp.

You leap back to your feet, and the two of you begin a series of kicks and blocks, your bodies moving in sync. The other troopers stop to watch, and a few of them begin cheering, encouraging Dash to keep going. After a few minutes, you slow, and the two of you circle each other, panting. Dash's nose has stopped bleeding, and his eyes are bright, a wild grin on his face.

"Not bad," you pant, a smile on your own face.

"Not bad?" Dash echoes. "I think I won."

"In your dreams," you scoff. You wipe the sweat from your forehead, and you take a deep breath, steadying yourself. "Again. You're still leaving yourself open."

Dash frowns, and he glances down, studying his posture. You can almost see the wheels turning in his head, and after a moment, his expression changes, his face brightening. He moves his left arm, tucking it behind his back, and he takes a defensive stance, his hands up.

"Like this?" he asks, his eyes shining.

"Exactly," you reply, a note of approval in your tone. "Now, try blocking me again."

He nods, and you lunge, swinging your leg. His arm snaps up, and he blocks the kick, a loud grunt escaping him. You pull your foot back, and he takes a step forward, his arms raised. The two of you continue the exercise, blocking and dodging, until finally, you decide to end the fight with a final move. 

You feint, and Dash reacts, his eyes narrowing. He blocks your kick, but his guard is down, and you take advantage, grabbing his arm and yanking him off-balance. He lets out a startled yelp as you twist, using your momentum to pull him over your shoulder, and a second later, he's on his back, blinking up at you. 

The room erupts into cheers, and you extend a hand, helping him to his feet. His face is flushed, but his eyes are bright, and he grins, shaking his head.

"Wow," he says, a little breathless. "You're fast."

"So are you," you reply. You dust your hands off and give him a wink. "Keep practicing, and you might actually stand a chance against me."

He laughs and runs a hand through his hair, his cheeks still pink.

"I'll do my best, sir," he promises.

"Good," you tell him. You glance around, and a small crowd has formed, the men watching the two of you. You raise your voice, addressing the group. "Alright, everyone! Back to work! Let's go!"

The men scatter, and the two of you watch as they return to their training, the hangar filled with the sound of their voices and their laughter. Dash turns too, but Booker catches his arm, holding him in place as another clone emerges from the group, striding towards the three of you. You recognize Wise instantly by the sour look on his face, and you can't help but smirk.

You'd been more than a little surprised to learn that Wise had volunteered to be the chief medic of the 419th Brigade. Not that you doubted his abilities. He'd certainly shown his worth as a skilled healer, his knowledge of anatomy and physiology rivaling that of the Kaminoans, but a part of you had assumed Kamino would want to keep him. It wasn't every day a clone with his talents walked out of the facility.

Yet, here he was. And for some reason, his presence made you feel better. Like maybe if he was here, it meant something. Like maybe you weren't completely screwed.

"You okay, Wise?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.

Wise shoots you a glare, and he crosses his arms, his expression sour.

"This place is a goddamn zoo," he grumbles. He points at Dash's face, the blood still visible despite the attempt to wipe it away. "What happened to you?"

Dash shrugs. "Sparring."

Wise snorts derisively, and he reaches out, grabbing Dash by the chin. He tilts the clone's head to the side, examining the wound, and his eyes narrow.

"I told you not to do anything stupid," he grumbles.

Dash grins and shrugs again, clearly not bothered by Wise's scolding.

"It was a good fight," he replies, a slight note of pride in his voice. "I learned a lot."

Wise rolls his eyes and releases his hold on the younger clone. He turns to you, giving you a slight nod, and you raise an eyebrow, surprised by his show of respect.

"General," he says. His voice is gruff, and there's a hint of hesitation in his tone. "Can I talk to you? Privately?"

Your eyebrows furrow, and you exchange a confused glance with Booker.

"Sure," you reply, turning your attention to the medic. He jerks his head towards the far side of the hangar, and the two of you start walking, leaving Booker and Dash behind.

As soon as the two of you are out of earshot, Wise stops, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I wanted to apologize," he says, his tone low.

"For what?"

"For the way I treated you," he answers, meeting your gaze. His eyes are filled with regret, and his lips are pressed into a thin line. "Back on Kamino."

You blink, taken aback by his admission. It's not as if you were a stranger to rude behavior, and compared to what you'd endured and dished out over your lifetime, Wise's attitude had barely registered. If anything, it had been a bit refreshing. The fact that he felt the need to apologize, however, is unexpected.

You study his expression, searching for a hint of sarcasm, and a small smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. There isn't any.

"It's fine," you assure him. "I didn't exactly make a great first impression, either."

He lets out a huff of air, and he gives a small shake of his head.

"Yeah, well," he mutters. "You're the General. It wasn't my place."

There's a long pause, and you lean against the wall, watching as the troops begin their exercises once more. You can feel his eyes on you, and after a moment, you turn, meeting his gaze.

"How did you end up here, anyway?" you ask, genuinely curious.

Wise snorts and leans beside you, crossing his arms across his chest and resting his back against the wall. He lets out a short sigh, and his gaze falls, focusing on the floor.

"The longnecks weren't thrilled," he admits, his voice low. "But they didn't really have a choice. Commander Booker and Captain Rex had spoken on my behalf, and the GAR had approved my transfer."

"And you're okay with that?"

He gives a noncommittal shrug, his expression thoughtful.

"It's better than scrubbing floors and being under constant surveillance," he says. He shoots a glance in your direction, and his lips twitch. "And as far as generals go, you're not so bad."

You can't help but laugh, and you nudge him gently.

"Well, I appreciate the vote of confidence," you reply, grinning. You tilt your head, giving him a playful look. "So, we're friends now, right?"

Wise scoffs and rolls his eyes, but the faintest hint of a smile creeps across his face.

"Hardly," he mutters, and he turns, his eyes scanning the hangar. He clears his throat, his voice returning to its usual gruffness. "Now, get back to work, General. Some of us have actual things to do."

Wise pushes away from the wall, heading back towards Dash and Booker, and you follow, the two of you falling into step. As the distance between the group and yourselves lessens, the medic's demeanor shifts, and his usual scowl is firmly in place. Dash seems immune to the effect of his glare, too focused on the conversation he's having with Booker. A conversation that, judging by the blush on his cheeks, seems to involve you.

"Green is good, but I think she would look better in yellow," Dash says, his voice hushed. "What do you think?"

"I don't know, kid," Booker replies. "I'm not sure if yellow is her color."

"It's worth a shot, isn't it?" Dash glances over, catching sight of Wise, and he grins. "Hey, Wise, what color would you say the General looks best in?"

"Don't drag me into this," Wise grumbles. He comes to a stop beside the pair, and his gaze lands on you. You raise an eyebrow, silently asking him the question, and his expression is completely deadpan. "Yellow."

He gives a short nod to you and Booker, his gaze lingering for a moment, before striding past, disappearing into the sea of troops. You watch him go, unable to hide the smirk on your face, and Booker's expression is one of pure shock. Dash, meanwhile, looks pleased. Very, very pleased.

"Um..." he begins. He clears his throat, and his eyes dart to Booker, his expression hopeful. "Commander?"

Booker blinks, and his lips twitch. He claps Dash on the shoulder, and the younger clone nearly buckles, a sharp gasp escaping him.

"Dash thinks our color should be yellow," he announces, and Dash lets out a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his neck. You raise an eyebrow, and Booker gives a noncommittal shrug. "Personally, I think it's a little bright, but..."

"Yellow's not bad," you concede, glancing around the hangar. Anything would be better than the white and gray you were currently surrounded by. "We could probably do with a little color around here."

Dash studies you for a few moments longer, and his eyes light up, a broad grin splitting his face. He turns on his heel and rushes to the nearest trooper, and he begins speaking rapidly, pointing in your direction. The soldier nods, and a moment later, he's jogging off, disappearing into the crowd.

"What are they doing?" you ask, glancing at Booker.

"Not sure," he replies. "But I'm guessing the kid's got an idea."

The two of you watch as Dash speaks to another clone, this one older and taller. After a brief conversation, the man nods, and the pair begin making their way through the hangar, stopping in front of various squads. They speak to the soldiers, gesturing towards you, and a few minutes later, the men begin nodding, some of them even laughing. When Dash is finished, he hurries back towards you, his eyes shining.

"Well?" you ask, and he flashes a broad grin.

"It's settled, sir," he announces, his chest puffed out.

"Oh?"

"Gold," he replies. He nods, as if agreeing with his own words. "Definitely gold."

A surprised laugh escapes you. The Force must be playing a trick on you. There was no other explanation for it. Because it seemed that, somehow, the universe had aligned itself to bring the clones of the 419th together, all for the sole purpose of giving you a headache.

"Gold," you repeat, and Dash nods, a slight look of concern on his face.

"Yes, sir," he says, his voice quiet. "Is that...is that alright?"

"Why?" you ask, unable to keep the incredulity out of your tone. "Where did you get the idea?"

"It's because of your lightsaber," Dash tells you. He points at your waist, and your gaze drifts down to the weapon attached to your belt. "It's yellow. Or gold, really. We should match."

"My lightsaber?" you echo, staring at him. His cheeks flush, and he clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Well, yeah," he mutters. He drops his hand, and his eyes land on your saber. "The way it lights up the room...it's like...it's like it's filled with the sun itself."

You open your mouth, but no words come out. Instead, you stand there, stunned, an unexpected swell of emotion rising within you. You don't know why, but his words, his sentiment, touches you. In a way you never would've imagined.

It's a strange feeling. You're not used to it, and you're not entirely sure how to process it. No one has ever compared your lightsaber to the sun before. Your yellow blade is one more thing that's different from most other Jedi. Another piece of evidence to mark you as an outsider. For Dash to see something else, something unique and special, is...nice. Nice and unexpected.

"Okay," you say softly, giving him a small smile. "Gold it is."

A few of the men let out cheers, and Booker claps his hands, raising his voice.

"Alright," he calls. "Back to work!"

The troopers scatter, and the noise level in the hangar returns to normal, the sound of laughter and friendly banter filling the air. Booker gives a satisfied nod before he turns to you, his expression serious.

"You okay?" he asks, lowering his voice. "You look like you're about to cry."

You glare at him, though the effect is lost. There's a stinging in your eyes that you can't quite shake, and you turn your head, pretending to study the troops. You take a deep breath, pushing the feelings aside, and a few seconds later, you manage to regain control.

"I'm fine," you reply, a hint of annoyance in your tone. You turn back to Booker, and he raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. You roll your eyes. "And I don't cry."

He snorts and shakes his head, turning his attention back to the men. The two of you stand in companionable silence, watching as the squad leaders guide their troops through the motions. A short distance away, Dash is practicing his sparring skills with Screwball, a smile on his face.

After a while, you glance at Booker, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I think we'll be alright," you murmur.

Booker's gaze remains focused on the men, but his expression softens, and the corner of his mouth curves upward.

"Yeah," he agrees, and he nudges you gently. "We will."

taglist: @baddest-batchers @lolwey @chocolatewastelandtriumph @hobbititties @mere-bear

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[andromacheofappalachia]

Aakwênt (Abish x Red Feather - Modern AU - Snippet)

Aakwênt - Shosone, meaning "Far Away From". Here is a snippet of the modern au I have been working on for Abish and Red Feather. I hope you all enjoy :) the full thing will be posted soon for the first chapter.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Four hours. Twenty-seven minutes. Thirty-nine seconds.

That is how long it has been since Abish left—ran, ran away, ran, and still running. Jacob had gone to work just as he did every morning leaving Abish and his seven other wives within their home in Hildale, Utah. Four hours. Twenty-seven minutes. Fifty-two seconds. That was how long it took for Abish to get north of Ogden using one taxi, two Ubers, and three hundred dollars. She only had seven hundred roughly left to get a new start. Not nearly enough to do anything with as she had quickly learned, but it had gotten her into northern Utah. If she was lucky, she could continue to avoid anyone from the LDS Church. If she was unlucky, which she imagined she would be, someone from the church would notice her. They would see her navy dress and the worn shoes on her feet and the way her hair had fallen from its traditional braid and they would know she ran.

They would turn her in. Jacob would find her. He'd punish her and she would never be free.

Four hours. Twenty-eight minutes.

The walk to wherever she was now had left her feet bruised and swollen within her shoes. Her face was bruised from where Jacob had punished her the night prior. It made the teeth ache on the right side of her face. The pain curled within her jaw and cheekbone. Crawling up into the base of her skull into a low throb that would become a headache. Her hands are scuffed along her palms and her knuckles are swollen. When she looks long enough there is still blood beneath her nails.

The waitress at the middle-of-nowhere diner she is in takes notice of it. Being a woman, of course, she does. Abish knows even outside of the community that that is the way of things.

"Are you going to get anything?"

Abish had asked for more time two times now. She doesn't want to spend any money from what she has left in the worn red coin purse that now sits on the lamented table. But she knows if she is going to stretch her time in this warm shelter before it closes then she must.

"Can I start with a coffee?"

The waitress sighs. God, Abish is going to have to tip her.

"One coffee. I'll give you more time to pick a meal or a side. The owner is a prick, unfortunately, otherwise, I wouldn't care." The waitress leaves her to get the coffee pot. Setting down a yellowed mug on the table and a container of powdered creamer. The colorful packets of sugar flash like a neon sign as Abish takes a small sip.

The diner is nearly empty aside from a handful of occupants.

Abish didn't bother to look at any of them closely before, but now that she is she finds that one of them is staring. At least, she doesn't think he is watching her at first until she keeps looking up to find his eyes on her. An intense dark stare as he looks at her over his shoulder. He is unlike any man in the community—that is, he is not at all like any man in the community in every way possible. Abish knows that staring at someone isn't a good manner to have. Only he is watching her too, so it's only fair right?

The waitress blocks her view as Abish asks for an order of a cheeseburger and fries. Her mouth aching in a way that reminds her that she has not eaten in two days.

"Can I get a water too?" Waters come with refills. This she knows from movies and she hasn't had that either in two days, so it seems more feasible than the steaming coffee in her hands.

The waitress nods and moves to leave and he is watching her again.

The man has the remains of a steak in front of him. His steak knife is balanced between two fingers, the tip twirling circles into the plate as they lock into some kind of silent dance. He is older than her, but he doesn't seem threatening, no matter how much his face doesn't give any emotion to what he might be feeling when looking at her. However, she can see the smile lines on his face. The faint marking of crows feet shows a life of happiness that he has lived. His long, black hair is pulled into two braids and three black lines of tattoo ink mark his chin. He is Native American, like from the glimpses of old westerns that she has seen. His coat is black leather, his dark jeans have a chain hanging from the belt, and she can make out black military-like boots on his feet. Maybe he should intimidate her. Moreso given the intense way he is watching her rather than his clothes. Only Abish has seen monstrous men and this one doesn't seem to be one.

The waitress finally comes with her food. Cutting her green eyes to the man before looking back at Abish. There is a question there on her face that is quickly washed away.

"If you need anything just come to the counter." The waitress gives him one last glance, but he has already looked away.

Abish nearly chokes on hamburger meat the moment the other woman steps away.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she is certain that he is watching her again.

[lovecla]

OCEAN EYES | connor bedard

chapter one.

➴ warnings: swearing, underage drinking.

➴ word count: 3.2k

➴ author's note: omg this is my first time actually publishing something i wrote. the things i do for you, connor bedard. hope u like it <3

“SOMETHING tells me I shouldn’t be surprised to see you like this, but I still am.” You hear his voice before you can actually see him, which makes you wipe your tears fast and sigh loudly.

A girl can’t cry to her favorite Marvel movie anymore.

“You should try minding your own business. It’s super fun,” you say, putting the bowl of popcorn down and pausing the movie.

“Why would I even do that? Minding yours is way funnier.” Alex says, putting his luggage on the floor and sitting right beside you. You fight the urge to hug him tightly just because you don’t want to admit you’ve missed him a lot.

“What are you even doing here?”

He scoffs. “Last time I checked, this was my house.”

“You know what I mean,” you roll your eyes. “What are you doing here? You weren’t supposed to be back in Illinois until tomorrow evening.”

“Well, after yesterday’s W, we thought it’d be great to be back earlier,” he grinned and you sighed, again. You knew what that meant.

Winning equals partying in Hockey world and usually, the party happened at Alex’s house since he had a big ass house, no wife, no parents, no kids. Just an eighteen year old sister living with him before moving to her own apartment.

Having a somewhat famous brother wasn’t exactly in your to-do list but here we are. After Alex joined the Blackhawks, everything went upside down in the best way possible. For him, you mean.

For you and my parents it meant going to every game, every party, every important dinner. And even though you’re not complaining at all, it was so much in such little time. So you’re still getting used to it.

But Alex won’t make it any easier. Every time they win and come back home, it’s a party. Your parents stopped showing up after the first one— they opened the door of the guest room (where they were staying) to find Donato fucking some random girl. It wasn’t exactly his best moment, you’ll give him that.

“What time does it start?” You ask, starting your movie again.

“Eight p.m. sharp. Bedsy will be here so you can be weird together or whatever y’all teenagers do.”

“You’re just five years older than me, dumbass. Just because you bought your own mansion at twenty-two, doesn’t mean that you’re that old.”

“Whatever. The point here is: y’all weird.”

As much as you’d like to prove him otherwise, he isn’t one hundred percent wrong.

You and Connor met two years ago, when he and Madi were still living in Sweden. Despite what everyone thinks, some NHL agents already had their eyes on Connor, so they’d casually invite him (and he always brought Madi with him) to games, including the games your brother would play.

You befriended his sister quickly because, hello, she’s just the best human being in the entire world (hopes Chloe doesn’t hear you) and suddenly, going to his games wasn’t that bad anymore.

One day, Madi couldn’t go to one of the games, so when you went to chat with her, you just found Connor, chilling by himself.

“Hum, hi?” You remember saying, very embarrassed and awkward. You weren’t afraid of him, you had spoken to him before and he is friendly, despite what everyone else seems to think. He’s just. Quiet.

“Hi, Ellie,” he answered, taking his eyes off the rink for once. His face was like always: expressionless. “Madi couldn’t make it today. I’m the only Bedard you’ll have today, I’m afraid.”

You laughed, because, what, had he just made a joke? Crazy. Then you sat on the seat beside him and made yourself comfortable, trying to find Alex in the sea of big, aggressive men.

That was kind of the beginning of your friendship. Just like that, you talked his ears off during the entire game, complaining more than speaking, really. You’re not much of a calm person when it comes to game watching. And whenever you thought he wasn’t listening, you’d stop talking, and then he’d look at you and say things like:

“So? Where’s the rest of the story? I’m interested in why you think The Incredible Hulk is the worst Marvel movie.”

And then, when he joined your brother’s team, you were more than happy. He and Mads got to be closer and you could hang out with her whenever school and her job let you.

“I don’t think we are weird. At all. We’re just not excited about partying every single day like you are.” You replied, trying to distract yourself from the fact that Natasha Romanoff had just died on screen.

It should have been that fucking Clint asshole. Fuck him.

“Every time I throw a party here, you both just stay on the couch talking and talking, not a single drink in y’all’s hands. I get that you can’t really drink yet but at your age I was getting shit faced whenever I had the chance.”

“That isn’t the brag you think it is but fine,” He flipped you off and you smiled. “Can I invite Chloe?”

“I mean, I invited fifty guys to our house, you might as well invite your annoying girlfriend as well.” He used that one tone he always used whenever he’s annoyed and it made you roll your eyes, again.

“She isn’t annoying.”

Even though it isn’t a lie, it felt like one. Ever since you started hanging out with the players of Alex’s team more, she started to act weird. And she’s kind of obsessed with Bedard. But then again, half of the hockey community is so.

No biggie.

“Whatever, loser,” he slapped your forehead and you hit him with the pillow you were resting your head on. “You stink.”

“You fucking stink. Go change into something that isn’t a suit, weirdo.”

“I will, but not because you asked me to. I was going to do that anyway.”

You smirked. “Of course you were.”

—

EVEN though you didn’t plan on staying up the entire night like your brother and some of his teammates— the majority of the guys your brother invited were still in his twenties like him, so they don't have big responsibilities like kids or wives or husbands—, you still dressed up a bit.

Thankfully this isn’t anything fancy, so you just put on a black, silky, maxi skirt, a corset-like tube top and low heels. Since you got lazy and ended up listening to music instead of getting ready, you had to put your hair in a slick bun because it was already eight and you still weren’t ready. So, slick bun it is.

Your phone rings and you pick it up, reading Chloe’s texts:

You sent a quick nice and put on some perfume. It’s not long until you hear a quick knock on my door, followed by a blonde mess that you like to call your best friend.

“Hi, oh my God, you look stunning.” You say as soon as you both make eye contact, because Chloe’s just so freaking beautiful.

“I know,” she replies, sitting on your bed. “How are you?”

“I’m fine. Not really in the mood for partying though.”

“Are you kidding?” She slaps her knees with her hands, a smile on her face. “You have a house— no. Not a house. A mansion full of hot hockey players and you’re not in the mood for partying? What do you mean!”

You shrug. “You know I’ve never really cared about hockey. I don’t see the appeal, if I’m being honest.”

It’s true. Even before Alex made it to the NHL, you always thought hockey was just… alright. You don’t get why people get so excited to see some guys throwing a puck and skating. The fights are always fun to watch, though.

“You’re crazy,” she says, and you think she’s probably right. “Is Bedard coming?”

“I don’t really know. Maybe?” You replied, turning around and facing her. “Maybe yes. He’s on the team after all and he did score the last goal.”

“So. I need you to do something for me.” Chloe replied after a minute or two, and just by seeing the crazy look she has on her face, you knew that this isn't a really good thing.

You sigh. “What do you need?”

“I need you to introduce me to him.”

“Him?” You ask, confusion taking over your entire face.

She rolls her eyes. “Connor! I need you to introduce me to Connor!”

You don’t know why but her sentence makes your heart beat faster. You don’t like this feeling or her words either. But you just swallow your discomfort down and try to keep your expression neutral.

“Bedard? Why do you want that? You’ve never even acknowledged him in the past two years.”

“Well, I was waiting for him to make the move, but he’s so oblivious sometimes,” she says, sighing. “Honestly, I thought he liked you. You know, with how close you both are.”

You almost choke on your own spit. “Connor? Liking me?”

“I know it sounds crazy, but you can’t really blame me though. You’re all over each other and you even sit on his lap during movie nights.”

True. But also, not true.

“Well, I do that with all of my friends. I mean, I would do that if I had more friends. It’s not really my fault I just have you, Madi, Alex and Connor. I can sit on your lap if you want to—”

“Ew, not happening,” she fake-gags, making you laugh. “Anyway. Recently he said in an interview that he is single and not interested in anyone in particular. Soo, that’s my chance!”

You don’t know if you’re more weirded out with the fact that she watched one of his interviews or with the fact that she wants to be with him. And what makes you feel even weirder is the fact that you actually can picture them as a couple.

Chloe is your perfect WAG: blonde, rich, tall, good on cameras and gorgeous, even for an eighteen year old, fresh out of high school. She’s always at random, fancy parties because she says college isn’t for her, so she needs to find a rich, hot husband for herself.

You’ve never really said anything about that because you don’t think relying on a man to provide for you is the right decision. You want to get into college and continue to study so you can make your own name, and now that Alex’s known, you will need to work twice as hard to make sure you’re not getting anything just because you’re his sister.

But thinking about Chloe trying to make Connor her husband?

Yeah. It made you feel terrible.

“Yeah, I don’t know about that, Chloe…”

“Wait, what?” Something like anger flashed through her eyes. “You don’t think I have a chance with him? Why?”

“No, it’s not that, it’s just—” God, why were you feeling like this? It’s just Connor. A guy you met two years ago. “Connor’s really closed. We’ve never talked about relationships. I don’t know how to approach him.”

The smile is back on her face. “That’s fine. You just have to tell him hi, this is my best friend, chloe. And I’ll do the rest.”

You had a bad feeling about this. And it probably showed in your face because Chloe was frowning, again.

“Ellie,” she said, slowly. “Do you like him? Is that why you don’t want to introduce us?”

You were the one frowning now. Liking Connor? Seeing him as anything more than a friend? No, what? Crazy. Chloe was nuts. You just didn’t want him to get hurt. That was all.

“What?! No. No, of course not!” You said, feeling hot. “Connor is just a friend. Like you.”

“So?” Chloe said, quietly. “You will introduce us, right?”

“Yes,” you replied, without hesitating this time. “Please, be nice to him.”

“Oh, I am going to be nice,” she smirks. “I don’t know about the things I’m planning on doing with him though.”

She laughed out loud and even though you didn’t find anything funny, you laughed too. Even if your heart felt like it weighed more than the whole moon.

—

FINDING Bedard wasn’t as easy as it sounded.

Even though your brother’s house was big, it felt crowded with people. Alex said it’d only be fifty guys or so, but he forgot that those fifty guys were bulky and big, so it would feel like his house had at least eighty people there.

The music wasn’t extremely loud, it was just a background noise, so everyone could hear each other just fine. And boy, were those hockey men loud.

Every time one of them recognised you, they’d just shout and raise their arms, with either beer or liquor in his hands. It took you and Chloe at least fifteen minutes to get to the kitchen, so Chloe could get a drink for her and you a diet soda. You hated the taste of alcohol.

“God, at this point we’re never finding him,” Chloe mumbled, sipping on her beer and making a disgusted face. “You need to tell your brother to buy some proper beer.”

You chuckled. Despite everything Alex said, he’d probably freak out if you asked for alcohol. “I could always call Bedard. If he’s here, he’ll show up.”

“Yeah, do that. I’ll go to the bathroom real quick, and I’ll be back.”

You nodded, grabbing your phone and searching for Connor’s number. You finger just a centimeter from the screen, your heart beating fast in your chest, and you wanted to punch yourself when you caught yourself thinking I hope he doesn’t answer.

“I’m the world’s worst best friend,” you mumbled to yourself, disappointed with your own stupid brain.

“That skirt looks good on you,” you heard Connor’s voice and you looked down fast, checking to see if you had actually called him. When you found your phone still on the contact list, you furrowed your brows. “Hi, El.”

You turned around just to see Connor standing there, with his awkward smile and blue eyes. His hair was a bit longer than you remembered but it looked even better than before. He looked good.

You smiled, all that tension from before gone in seconds. “Hi, Con. I was literally just about to call you.” You raised your phone, showing it to him.

“Yeah?” He stepped closer, wrapping his arms around you, holding you close. Hugging him was something that felt so precious because he never really did it with many people, and to think you’re one of the lucky ones? Yeah. Precious.

“Yeah,” you replied, hands around his middle, your height difference making the whole thing funnier. You stepped back, looking him in the eye. “I— I need to… hum. Introduce you to someone.”

He raised his brows, just slightly. His face going all-Bedard like again. “It isn’t a boyfriend, is it?”

“No?”

“That sounded more like a question than an affirmation. Are you seeing anyone?”

“What? No,” you laughed, amused with his answers. “No, I’m not. You and Madi would be the first to know if I were, I promise.”

“Then, who is it? Last time you said you had to introduce me to someone, I had to chat for forty minutes with an old lady who thought the Avengers were real.”

“Don’t call Susy old!” You threw your arms up, still laughing. “And that day was funny as fuck. Also, I see myself in her, so if you don’t like her, you probably don’t like me as well.”

“Bullshit. You know I like you.” He said, blue eyes looking everywhere else but your face.

Your heart did that backflip it always does whenever Bedard says something like that. You smiled.

“I like you too,” you whispered. “But I need you to meet someone.”

Just before Connor could ask who that someone was, Chloe re-entered the kitchen, slowing her steps when she noticed that Bedard was there.

“Great, you’re here,” you said, holding one of Chloe’s hands and pushing her closer. “This is who I wanted you to meet. Chloe, this is Connor Bedard. Con, this is my friend Chloe.”

Chloe reached out her hand to greet him. “Hi! I’m a huge fan. Congrats on your win!”

Connor greeted her back, but his gaze was fixed on your face. It was extremely awkward and uncomfortable, all the tension from earlier coming back. Something that you couldn’t really identify flashed through Connor’s eyes and it made you want to scream.

“Hi. Thank you.”

Connor’s dry words didn’t seem to surprise Chloe. “Do you want to drink something? I make the best Black and Tan in the entire world.” She smiles.

Connor looked at you and you bit your lip, your mouth opening to speak before your brain could stop it. “It’s true. She does.”

“Oh, are you drinking now?” He sounded… angry?

“No, of course not,” you scoffed, wishing you had kept your mouth shut. “But people like it a lot.”

“I can’t drink. We have to hit the gym tomorrow morning.”

Blue eyes looked at you again and honestly? You were ready to call it a night and go back to your room, because what the hell. Connor wasn’t usually this complicated.

“Oh,” Chloe sounded disappointed but then. “Then maybe we can grab some drinks together tomorrow evening?”

Damn, she doesn’t give up.

“Sure. But El doesn’t drink.” He replied, leaning against the kitchen counter, his biceps practically ripping the tight shirt. You reminded yourself to stop staring.

And then you proceeded to remember what he’d just said.

“Um. I’m not coming,” you were sure your lipstick was already gone with how much you were biting your lip so you switched to picking on the skin around your nails. “I… I have… well, I’m—”

“She has a date.”

You and Connor both looked at Chloe. Your eyes doubled in size and you had to fight the urge to punch her. What the hell was going on with you that night, you wondered.

“Do you?” Connor asked, and he was definitely angry now. His face wasn’t showing anything but his eyes told the entire story. They had a storm going on inside of them and he had the same look as he did when that one guy made his teeth bleed during one game.

“That sounded more like a question than an affirmation. Are you seeing anyone?”

“What? No,” you laughed, amused with his answers. “No, I’m not. You and Madi would be the first to know if I were, I promise.”

Fuck.

“Well. It’s nothing serious. Just— a guy?” It definitely sounded like a question. Lying wasn’t exactly your best trait.

“Yeah, a guy. So, she can’t come. Just you and me,” Chloe continued, grabbing another beer and sipping on it. “Can you pick me up at seven? I’ll text you my address.”

Truthfully, you didn’t know how Chloe had the balls to act like this, especially with someone who hasn’t shown interest in her at all. Maybe this is what being confident means? You thought to yourself, trying to right her wrongs once more.

Connor just nodded and left the kitchen without saying a word.

“That went well, huh?” Chloe said, looking happy with the situation.

You just hummed, not wanting to lie more than you already did that night.

God.

[imagines--galore]

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

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

Pairing: Zuko x OroraOC (ATLA)

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

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

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

Orora was the first one awake.

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

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

Everything was calm.

A blessing since today was the day.

The day of the Solar Eclipse.

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

Or so she hoped.

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

She sighed.

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

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

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

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

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

And she hated herself for it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Time to show the world what her roots were.

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

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

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

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

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

                                          ————————–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Since now."

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

Thwack!

"Ow! Easy with the punches Toph!"

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

"I think I prefer the hugs."

                                          ————————–

Phase One of the Invasion Plan was about to commence.

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

Literally the beginning.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                                          ————————–

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

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

It didn't matter to him.

Nothing did now.

Other then what he had decided.

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

She deserved to know.

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

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

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

                                          ————————–

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

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

Though the moment was short lived.

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

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

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

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

Phase One was complete.

                                          ————————–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                                          ————————–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Aang and Katara.

With Aang stepping away from his soulmate after kissing her.

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

                                          ————————–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that is exactly what she did.

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

Orora didn't even waited. She moved on.

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

Orora wasted no time.

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

Orora smirked to herself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                                          ————————–

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

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

                                          ————————–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Charge!"

With a huge battle cry, the army moved forward.

                                          ————————–

They had taken the Tower.

Phase Two was complete.

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

Healing the wounded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Orora felt her insides turn to ice.

They had known.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A very active geyser field.

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

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

Though soon they came to another problem.

A river of lava.

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

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

Orora and Sokka glanced at one another and gulped.

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

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

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

Probably out on a stroll.

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

The man looked like he was ready to soil himself.

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

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

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

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

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

The string still wasn't tugging.

"Aang wait!"

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

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

                                          ————————–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                                          ————————–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I really hate these guys."

                                          ————————–

This was it.

The moment he had waited for for so long.

Nothing could stop him from speaking his mind.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A waterbender from the Northern Water Tribe.

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

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

                                          ————————–

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

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

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

Exactly where her neck had been barely a moment ago.

Cold blue eyes met a cold amber gaze.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ignore."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Where. Is. Suki?!"

Orora's heart plummeted.

                                          ————————–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That did it.

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

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

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

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

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

Banished.

Not killed like he had believed.

Banished.

So Orora had been right about this too.

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

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

"Your penalty will be far steeper."

Now!

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

Safely and successfully redirecting lightning.

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

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

Now to free his Uncle.

                                          ————————–

"Answer me!"

Azula didn't say a single word.

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

"Where are you keeping her?"

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

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

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

The Princess managed to land on her feet, smirking.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not to mention she could feel her finger tugging.

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

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

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

Suddenly Toph tensed.

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

Suddenly Orora stepped in front of them.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Unsure grey eyes met pleading ice blue.

"I'll be fine." She promised.

They both knew it was a lie.

Finally, Aang turned and ran after Sokka and Toph.

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

They had to stay safe to fight another day.

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

                                          ————————–

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

And he was going to.

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

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

She was there.

Orora was there.

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

Still remembered the bitter taste in his mouth and the way his very soul grew heavy within him.

He had felt it once before at the North Pole.

That fateful night when he had saved a young waterbender girl from being killed.

A young waterbender who turned out to be his soulmate.

Zuko had felt this very feeling as he had watched the soldier raise his hand to fire at Orora.

To end her life.

It was pure, utter, and heart wrenching dread.

And that feeling was what propelled him to run faster, kicking up dirt as he went, his eyes wide with fear as he followed his string, his heart, his soul, as it led her back to her.

Back to his soulmate.

Back to Orora.

                                          ————————–

The tugging on her finger was what guided her towards the unexpected exit.

The Fire Nation soldiers were hot at her heels, trying their best to capture her, but she was much too fast and quick. Orora had honed herself to be the perfect fighter through sheer determination and practice, and though she could never be as naturally gifted a waterbender as Katara, she was not going to do her best.

Toph had been right.

There were five of them.

Well four now since she had managed to knock one out with a kick to the head.

She could see daylight up ahead, and it only propelled her to run faster. A blast of fire grazed the top of her head, prompting her to duck down but she didn't stop running. Gripping one of her ice daggers, she twisted on her feet briefly and allowed it to fly through the air.

Her aim was true, since the sharp projectile hit one of the mask-less soldier straight in the eye. His scream of agony filled the tunnel, but Orora barely heard it. At that very moment she burst out of the tunnel.

What she hadn't counted on, was one of the other firebenders firing too soon.

As she exited the tunnel, pain unlike any she had ever felt before radiated from her side. The young waterbender stumbled, her feet fumbling as she cried out. With the speed she had been running at Orora went careening into the ground, bouncing against the hard ground painfully a few times before she rolled to a stop.

Her breath was knocked out of her, and she was sure cuts and bruises littered her skin. She pressed a hand to her side where it hurt, crying out softly from the pain.

She'd definitely been burned.

Still, she had to get up. Had to try and get away.

With a groan, and despite her body throbbing with pain, she managed to push herself to her knees. "Give up girlie!" One of the soldiers called out as the other three surrounded her.

Reaching up she wiped the side of her mouth where she had cut her lip and was bleeding. "I would rather die." She hissed, her hands dropping to the ground where she pulled out the water from the grass around her.

The grass lost it's color, turning brown. Despite the pain, Orora created twin circles of water around her, that spun at a high speed. High enough and thin enough to cut through the thickest armor. She glared at the three remaining soldiers, gritting her teeth from the pain.

"Lets take her. The Princess wants her alive." One of them said.

Her finger tugged, almost viciously, and her eyes widened.

The soldier who had spoken stepped forward, only to be kicked aside by an extremely familiar figure as he emerged from jumped out from behind an outcropping of rocks.

The figure landed on the ground, wasting no time to reach behind and pulling out a pair of swords.

"You'll have to go through me." Zuko growled, his tone vicious, a clear warning in his tone as he stood over her. His heart was racing in his chest at the sight he had just been greeted with.

Orora on her knees, bleeding and hurt.

It didn't matter to him that she could defend herself.

In that moment, all that mattered to him was that she was in pain, and those responsible would pay dearly for hurting his soulmate.

"Prince Zuko!" One of the soldiers exclaimed while the other helped their knocked out companion. "Your sister asked us to capture this girl. She's the enemy, she was with the Avatar."

Zuko stepped forward, his presence commanding and yet dangerous at the same time. "Then you tell my sister, that if she ever even thinks of hurting her again, I will take her down. Permanently."

Perhaps it was the cold-blooded look in the Prince's eyes, or perhaps the soldier knew he would not be able to take down the Prince. Whatever it was, the three soldiers quickly retreated back into the tunnels.

Leaving a slowly calming Zuko and an injured Orora alone.

The entire time Orora had stayed still, her eyes wide and her heart in her chest as she scarcely dared to believe who was standing in front of her. Protecting her just like he had in her dream. The water circles she had created dropped to the ground as she lowered her arms, her body relaxing.

And yet as her body relaxed the adrenaline left her, and she finally felt the true extent of the burn at her side. A cry of pain fell from her lips as she hunched over. Tears sprang to her eyes as she raised a trembling hand to try and waterbend some water back from he ground to heal herself.

At the sound of her, the young Prince turned around and dropped his swords as he fell to his knees in front of Orora. "No, wait, use this." He urged, holding out his water skin that had clean water in it. Her fingers quivered as she coated them with the clean water.

Placing her hand to her burned side, the girl whimpered from the pain. Involuntarily, her free hand reached out to grasp on to the first thing she could grab.

His hand.

Which she gripped so tightly that he was sure there would be bruises later.

But he didn't care.

Zuko stayed still, his features creased with worry as he watched her close her eyes and the water begin to glow as she healed herself. Orora bit her lip, reopening the small cut that she had gotten a few minutes ago. A thin trail of scarlet snaked down the side of her mouth.

Zuko reached up, his thumb pressing against her skin as he wiped away the blood. His touch was what prompted her to open her eyes.

After so many days.

Soft blue eyes met warm amber gaze.

"Yo-you're here?" Came her voice, barely above a whisper. As if she were afraid speaking loudly would shatter the moment.

"I'm here." He responded, bringing the hand he held in his own to press it against the side of his scarred face.

Their strings glowed.

His blue.

Hers red.

Blue eyes rolled, turning skyward, and Orora fell against Zuko in a dead faint. He caught her, a pang of worry racing through his body. He had to get her cleaned up and bandaged otherwise she might get an infection. Besides, his sister would send even more soldiers if she knew Orora were still there.

Quickly sheathing his swords, he gathered Orora in his arms. Her head rested against his shoulder, with one of his arms supporting her legs while the other wrapped around her waist, being careful of her injuries.

He would find her friends later, right now, all he cared about was making sure that she was alright.

And that was all that mattered to him.

                                           ————————–

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