#glowering gets you images of things glowing

[vickysaurus-art]

Fury glowering. I modeled her expression with a photo of myself, because frankly the people you get when searching for 'glower' 'scowl' or 'glare' on Duckduckgo or Google Images all have zero glowering game.

[frannyzooey]

Short Days, Long Nights: One Shot

Series Masterlist

Joel Miller x f!reader

Rating: E

A/N: I missed them, so here you go ❤ one million bajillion thanks to @bageldaddy for looking this over and for typing the words "do a crux check, I think it's here like five times". She was right, as she often is 😌

--

The brothers ride in silence, snow crunching under the hooves of their horses. Everything covered in a fresh blanket of white, they leave fresh tracks behind them as they make their way towards the gates. 

“You gonna tell me what your problem is?”

Joel glowers, his grip tightening on the reins. “What the hell are you talkin’ about?”

Tommy smirks, a white cloud of heat puffing from his nose. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about.”

A muscle in Joel’s jaw ticks, but he says nothing. He shifts in the saddle, his thighs squeezing to spur his horse on faster.

It’s fuckin’ cold, and his knees ache. 

“I think you scared ‘em,” Tommy says, flicking his chin towards the two riders behind them. The boys – new to patrol – give them ample space, their skinny frames swathed in coats in their seat in the saddle. “Just about tore their heads off every time they made a mistake.”

“They shouldn’t be makin’ em,” Joel replies easy. 

Tommy laughs. “Like you never made a mistake in your life.”

Joel shakes his head, squinting at the brightness of the fresh snow. Each night has brought a fresh few inches, and he wonders if the kids have been outside in it. He pictures them making snow men, building forts. The snowball fight they had last week with the neighbor kids comes to mind, and a warmth fills up inside of him. Snow wasn’t a thing for him when he was growing up – not in Texas – and he’s glad they get to experience it. 

Even if it’s cold as shit. 

He pictures the front window of the house, the warm glow it would cast across the snow as darkness falls. You in the kitchen, maybe, and the constant movement of the kids. The image invites him even from beyond the gates, and sighs. 

Tommy continues to poke, in the way that only little brothers can. 

“Oh, I get it. It’s been awhile, hasn’t it?”

Joel frowns. “Since what?”

“Since you got some alone time. With your wife.”

Tommy’s eyes are bright with teasing, and Joel would normally rise to the occasion – but he doesn’t have it in him. Instead he gives his little brother a sidelong glance. 

Tommy chuckles. “I knew it.” 

“Hard with all the kids in the house all the time,” Joel grumbles. “Always underfoot, never giving us a moment’s peace.”

“Seems like every time you get a moment’s peace, you end up with another kid, brother. Maybe it’s a good thing.”

Joel shakes his head again, the edge of his mouth lifting for the first time in days. 

“It does, doesn’t it,” he says, and Tommy laughs. 

“Let me take those little monsters for you,” he offers. “Maria’s been wanting to see them anyhow, and then maybe you won’t walk around anymore lookin’ like you wanna fight anyone who steps in your path.”

Joel scoffs, though he doesn’t argue. 

The gates of the settlement come into view, the guard towers built along the top capped with mounds of snow. He pictures the bustle of people that will appear when the gates open – the mess hall, the stables, the familiar facade of the town he’s come to recognize as home. And somewhere, in all that, you.

His mind strays to the image of your face: your beautiful, soft smile, the warmth of your body that he’s missed at night. Weighted heat builds low in his hips, and he begins to thicken underneath his fly. 

“Goddamnit,” he mutters. 

It really has been too fucking long. 

“Tonight,” he says to Tommy, giving him a look. “Can you take ‘em tonight?”

Tommy grins.

–

Joel needs to see the little monsters first. 

He needs to listen to June’s endless chatter as she curls up next to him on the couch, wants to see Hank play with his trucks on the carpet, needs the weight of Dolly sleeping body on his chest. His lips brush her downy curls, and he relaxes into the cushions of the couch, surrounded by his children. 

“Yea, darlin’” to June, and “tell me more, bud” to Hank and murmurs of “hey, sleepy girl” to Dolly. 

His head tips back against the couch, his eyes closing for a second. 

“You gonna make it, old man?” you tease, tucking a sleeper into the backpack in front of you. A teddy next, a blanket following it. 

He turns his head to look at you, and his eyes slip down your body and back up again. He’s been half hard since the second he pressed a fleeting kiss to your mouth in greeting when he walked in the door.

“I’ll show you old man once these kids leave.”

Your movement halts for a split second, and the corner of his lips tip up as you start to pack faster.

–

You’re still tidying the kitchen when he gets back from Tommy’s. 

“I thought I would have more time,” you frown, scooping up the dinner plates to set them in the sink. He stands at your back, his hands curling around your hips to pull you close. His mouth brushes along the column of your neck, his beard tickling your skin. “I wanted to be upstairs, waiting for you. Assuming you’re still up for–”

He turns you, cutting off your sentence with the press of his mouth. 

It’s been so fucking long. So long since you’ve really kissed him, too long since you felt his strong grip, too long since you’ve done anything more than a peck here and there between the daily chaos of life. Patrol, the green house, your duties around town, the kids – too many nights have gone by with you falling asleep on the couch while he picks away at his guitar, or collapsing into bed together the second the kids turn in. 

You’ve missed him, and you can tell by the way he kisses you, he’s missed you as well. 

His deep kiss lingers until he breaks it, resting his forehead against yours. 

“Dance with me, honey.”

A smile curls at the edge of your lips. “There isn’t any music.” 

“Never stopped you before,” he replies, kissing the corner of your mouth, guiding your arms to wrap around his neck. 

Every time he mentions your time at the cabin, a sweet ache blooms in your chest. A time when it was just the two of you, nothing to exist on but the sustenance found in each other. A private, tender time, full of intimacy and closeness, of quiet peace in a world filled with anything but. It’s not like you miss it compared to the safety of Jackson, but…sometimes you do. 

You’re reminded of it in the mornings, with his warmth curled along your spine, his nose tucked into the nape of your neck. 

You’re reminded of it when you work alone in the garden, the kids down for their naps. 

And you’re reminded of it now, as he turns the two of you slowly in a room with no music. 

Drawing him in, you bring his mouth to yours. You lean into his sturdiness and breathe him in, your fingers slipping into the curls at the nape of his neck, and he sighs, melting under your touch. 

He tilts his head, deepening the kiss and his hands cup your cheeks, his fingertips brushing against the curve of your jaw. Shuffling his feet forward, he guides you towards the counter until the edge of it presses into the small of your back. His mouth moves with more intent, and the toe of his boot nudges your feet apart, making room for himself between your thighs. 

“Upstairs?” you mumble against his full mouth, and he shakes his head. 

“Right here.”

The husk in his voice makes your eyes flutter shut, an instant liquid heat pooling in the cradle of your hips. It intensifies when his hand takes your own and he slides it down his torso, your fingers brushing over his belt buckle. Lower still, and he wraps your fingers around the heft of his cock, clearly outlined through his jeans. 

His hips buck forward into your touch, and a soft moan breaks free of your throat. 

“You really did need it bad, huh?” you tease, a breathless thing dripping with your own want. 

“So bad, honey. So bad.”

His fingers work the button of your pants open, and you start doing the same to his belt buckle until he swats your hands away, and starts tugging at your pants and underwear. Kneeling, he drags them over the curve of your ass and down your legs, his mouth laving hot kisses along the front of your thighs as he helps you step out of the fabric. 

“Joel, your knees. Baby, get off the floor.”

He pays you no mind, his hands forcing you up onto the counter. Spreading your thighs, he shifts closer until his mouth hovers right over where you need him the most: your gleaming, soaked center. 

“Fuck my knees,’ he groans, leaning in for a kiss. 

Your head tips back against the cabinet with a small thud, your fingers pushing through his hair. You flex your hold, the strands silky underneath the palm of your hand, and he lets out a muffled groan into your center, smearing his tongue flat up the center. He slides it over the pearl of your clit, circling the bud a few times as his fingers dig into the meat of your thighs. He laps at your clit, taps it with the tip of his tongue, slides his tongue around and then over it, over it, over it and when you start to rock your hips against his mouth, he latches onto it with a gentle suck. 

“Oh God,” you breathe, your hooded gaze fixed on the crown of his dark curls. His brow furrows in concentration and pleasure, his whiskers catching the delicate skin on your inner thighs and when he presses himself even closer to bury the bottom half of his face, you arch your hips up to meet him. His hand slides up your side in a weighty drag and palms your breast in a full handed hold, giving it a squeeze as he sucks harder. Focusing on the pebbled peak he feels underneath your shirt, his thumb drags over the bud and you feel it between your legs, in time with the steady licks of his tongue. 

Your thighs start to tremble against his cheeks, and his hand curls around the bottom of your knee, pushing your leg up to rest your heel on the counter. The position spreads you wide open for him, something he takes advantage of to slip two thick fingers into your soaked core. They fit in snug to the knuckle; your other leg crooked over his shoulder with a tense hold as he starts to stroke a spot deep inside. His full touch tucks tight against your walls, the pressure paired with the wet glide of his tongue tips you over the edge of your release, your moan joining the sound of his. 

His knees crack when he stands, and his lips slide against yours. His mustache and chin are damp with you, your taste in his kiss and you deepen it, winding your legs around the back of his thighs to pull him closer. He palms your bare ass, grinding his denim covered crotch against your slick curls. His movements get faster, more desperate, and then he pulls back, his gaze dropping down to watch as you roll your hips into his. 

“If you don’t stop, honey, I’m gonna fuck you right here on this counter.”

His words are a low threat, that rumbles from his chest, his eyes never leaving the crux of your thighs. 

“Do it.” 

Your own gaze is fixed on the bulge behind his fly; your cunt an empty, needy thing. You know just how well he fits, just how good it feels when he slides inside. Snug and thick and filling and your eyes close, a frown pulling at your delicate features. 

“Please.”

“If I start here, I won’t be able to stop. I wanna lay you out.” He leans forward, crowding you against the cabinets. “I wanna fuck you too hard for this counter top. I want you too much.”

The words make your stomach drop with need, and you grab his face to pull him in for a frantic, consuming kiss before pushing him back so you can slide off the counter. You can feel him right on your heels as you race up the stairs, a laugh bursting from you when he slaps your ass on the way up. He rushes you through the bedroom door, his hands already grabbing at your remaining clothes. 

“Come on, mama. Take that shirt off for me.”

“You first,” you reply, tugging at his blue button down. The snaps pop open in a straight line down his chest, and he tugs it off, flinging it onto the floor. You strip with him: first your top, then your bra. Sliding onto the bed naked, you watch him peel his jeans down his legs. His briefs go next, and your thighs part to make room for him as he crawls on the bed to join you. 

Your bodies are a tangle of limbs lying sideways across the bed, his mouth presses against yours the same time his hand dives down to line himself up. The crown of his cock slips right in, and his hips drive forward, forcing you open around him. 

“Joel,” you moan, your eyes closing tight. 

In the cabin, sunlight pouring through the window across your writhing body, his shoulders between your thighs and his face buried at the crux. 

“You feel so fuckin’ good. So good,” he breathes, rocking his hips against yours. 

In the woods, the bark of a tree rhythmically scraping against your back, the hot pant of his breath across your skin. 

His low groans blend with your softer, higher pitch ones as your fingers dig into the meat of his ass to force him deeper. 

Clothing scattered on the bank; shadows scattered across the rounds of your bare shoulders as you ride him, taking him inside you again, and again. 

Heady need blooms behind your belly button, your toes curling as your heels dig into the back of his thighs, and every rock of his hips against yours is a filling stroke, a smooth slide forward and back. Whole is what you feel – pressed underneath the weight of his body, the heat of his skin flush with yours, his cock filling every last open inch that belongs to him. 

Threading your fingers through the gray at his temple, the open, pleading expression on your face tells him everything he needs to know. 

“You gonna come again, honey?”

You nod frantically, the roll of your hips picking up pace. Your nipples tighten against his chest, the hair there scraping each sensitive peak. He braces himself above you, his fists curling into the bedding as he fucks you harder, deeper. 

A shudder slips through his solid frame as he watches you come underneath him, and his hips stutter, a deep, reluctant groan rumbling from his chest as he pulls out. Sitting back on his heels, his fist works his cock with an audible, slick pump. 

“Where do you want it this time?”

It’s a question he asks now. Jackson has birth control methods, but with scarce supplies, they aren’t something you can always get your hands on. Condoms are more readily available, but you hate the thought of a barrier between the two of you. 

Instead, you push your breasts together in a silent invitation, and shift closer to him, positioning his cock right above your chest. The view of his broad chest and strong shoulders has you biting your lip, his arm flexing as he pumps his thick cock filling your vision and your thighs squeeze shut, even though you are more than satisfied. 

“Play with ‘em, honey,” he begs, his deep voice straining. 

You do, and with one of his hands wrapped around his cock and the other gripped white around the top of the headboard, he comes in spurts across your chest. You keep playing, smearing the milky pools across the tops of your breasts, circling the tight buds of your nipples until they are glistening peaks as he works every last drop out of his cock, and sated, his frame finally relaxes. 

“Jesus,” he sighs, dropping down on the bed to lay next to you. 

You roll onto your side, your skin damp with his release. His pulse is a steady drum underneath his skin, his cheeks are flush with heat, and the gray along the curve of his jaw stands out even more in the dim lighting of the bedroom. He’s older now, the physical signs more visible. Lines that surround his eyes, more gray threaded throughout his hair — but his hunger is the same. Still the same needy, firm grip love that you’re used to; his calloused hands sliding over your skin. Your gaze slips down his strong profile, lingering on his parted lips and you shift closer to him, tucking yourself closer.

He cracks an eye open to look at you, a dimple appearing in his cheek when he grins. Rolling onto his side, he faces you, slinging the weight of his arm over your waist. 

Your fingers brush along his collarbone, and for the first time in days, you feel yourself fully relax. 

You know patrol is part of the many pieces keeping this community together, but you’ll never get used to being separated, not fully. You’re half of a whole when he’s gone; half of your heart venturing out into the dangerous world. You’re tense from the second he heads out to the stables until the moment you see him through the front door. 

With him finally home, you breathe him in, curling closer. Right where you belong. 

His thumb brushes along your cheekbone, and you smile. 

“You’re so beautiful, honey.” His nose skims along yours, his lips brushing over your cheek. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too. It’s hard to sleep without you here.”

The kiss he gives you is slower this time, more lush. His mouth molds against yours, savoring your familiar taste and you swallow his soft groan down, holding him close. He starts to fade, his kisses slowing into lingering, soft presses. 

Rain sliding against the window, flashes of lightning illuminating his profile. 

His mouth stops, his eyes fluttering shut. He sleeps the way you never saw him sleep on the trail, the way he was never afforded before the cabin either. The way he probably couldn’t while on patrol, either. 

A book resting open and face down on his chest, his breathing steady and deep. 

A bone-deep sleep, sated and safe. 

Still, when your thumb skates across his full bottom lip, his mouth purses – an unconscious kiss, even from the depths of his slumber. His hand flexes, smoothing over your skin. 

Reaching for the light, you click it off, and pull the quilt over the two of you. 

Another worn quilt, another bedroom. 

Tucking your face into the space between his chin and chest, you close your eyes.

[dalek-ix-writes-stuff]

Red Ruin - INTERVAL 02: FIRST ENCOUNTER (Part V)

"Holy-!"

Jaune didn't know why the creepy girl in red had decided to drop in and help him. Or, well, save him, if he was honest. Him, Pyrrha, Ren and Nora.

(Later, the idea that Ruby did save them, and that they all could've died if she hadn't arrived when she did would keep him up at night.)

She slammed down on the Nevermore like a lightning bolt, and then shot a bolt-action rifle into the monster as quickly as Pyrrha had worked her own gun-spear-thing. The Nevermore's screech (Grimm and Dust it was loud) sounded like it had been in genuine, real pain as it thrashed, throwing the girl in red off of its back before doing the one thing Jaune hadn't seen it do before: retreat. It spread its wings and jumped, clambering back up the tower to glare at the girl in red, who seemed to be quite happy to glare right back, long cape (or was it a cloak?) draped around her while she held a massive scythe-rifle-thing in her hands.

Wait, when did she get back on the bridge-?

Someone else was hurtling down the cliff. The Nevermore spotted them, reared up to-

Two shots rang out, close enough that it was hard to tell them apart. The first sent that person away from the Nevermore's beak, and the second sent a bullet right through it, nailing the monster's mouth shut.

Nailing it shu-… those aren't bullets. Nails? Gun that shoots giant nails? That's a thing?

The newcomer twisted in midair for a three-point landing, smoothly rising to her full height. "Hope you've got a new plan, Rubes!" she called out, punctuating her words with a short punch that made the gauntlets she wore shoot at the glowering Nevermore, which only succeeded in making it glare harder at them.

"I'm working on it!" Creepy Red called back, flashing backwards to dodge a torrent of feathers before raising her scythe-nail gun-thing to shoot at the Nevermore again. Beside Jaune, Pyrrha switched her spear into rife and added her own shots into the mix, briefly making the monster back off with a muffled noise of rage.

Jaune just kept himself behind his shield and wondered if he should've brought something besides Crocea Mors with him. Probably yes.

What the hell am I doing here?

"Hey!"

Jaune blinked. The creepy girl in red was talking to him. "Y-yeah?"

She opened her mouth, closed it, screwed her eyes shut and shook her head furiously.

"I-…" A pause, and then her scythe-nail gun-thing was spinning to block, and Pyrrha and him were hiding behind their shields, feathers falling around them like rain. The blonde newcomer simply put her hands up to cover her face and let the feathers break against her aura, her lilac eyes now glowing bright red.

"You and In-" the girl in red made a strangled noise, "You two, switch with Weiss and Blake!" A pause. "Tell them I have a new plan! Please?"

Pyrrha shot him a glance, and then leaned in to whisper, "They were the ones who dropped down behind the Death Stalker before they did."

Jaune blinked, again. Suddenly, the mental image he'd had of the battle had changed completely. Oh, and Weiss was helping…?

… Pyrrha was looking at him expectantly, and Jaune turned away to hide a blush. Right.

… Well, it's not like I can do much against something that flies with just a sword and shield. But against that scorpion- er, Death Stalker…

"Uh- Sure!" he called back towards Creepy Red Gi-.

"And I'm Ruby!" She snapped, "Ruby Rose!" She flailed in his direction. "Go!"

Jaune didn't need to be told twice.

----------

Now she wants us to switch?

The plan had gone off… pretty well, if Blake was being honest. Nora and Ren (mostly Nora) had been happy to have them, Weiss had frozen some of the Death Stalker's legs, Ren and she had kept it distracted, and Nora had gotten a few hits in with her hammer.

… Weiss had also almost frozen her a few times, and Blake had felt the heiress trip on Gambol shroud's ribbon at least once. And no matter how many times Nora hit the Death Stalker on the head, they just couldn't get past the armour.

Blake glanced towards Weiss. "We're going…?"

The heiress paused after casting another ice dust infused glyph at the Death Stalker, her rapier in a middle stance. She scowled, clearly wanting to find a reason not to, but either unable to find one.

"Fine," she forced out. And, too softly for anyone other than herself (and one hidden Faunus) to hear, she muttered, "Why are we following her?"

Blake pursed her lips and followed after Weiss, sliding underneath the Death Stalker where Weiss used her glyphs to propel herself over it, beyond the reach of its flailing, ice-covered stinger tail. Pyrrha Nikos tossed her own partner over the beast (much to Jaune Arc's surprise), vaulting after him with an ease that Blake had to put conscious effort not to stare at.

All the while, Blake couldn't help but wonder what Ruby was thinking. Irony of ironies…

----------

"Byeeee~! See ya soon!"

More quietly, Nora quipped at Ren, "Talk about a rough pairing…"

The boy shrugged. "Could be worse. Imagine Weiss Schnee with a Faunus."

Nora shuddered. "Oh, yeah. Brrrr!"

----------

The Nevermore's scream was muffled from its beak being nailed shut, but that only made it sound even angrier. Streams of huge, razor-sharp feathers rained all around them, forcing Yang to roll out of the way and her sister to dodge; sometimes in a blur of crimson petals, and sometimes just appearing somewhere else. Even with all the fire-dust buckshot and armour-piercing darts Yang and Ruby were firing at it, Yang could still see that the monster was healing itself.

Yang tried to keep herself calm whenever something went wrong –the last thing she wanted was for Ruby to panic– but she couldn't help but start feeling a little bit concerned right now.

"Any moment now, Ruby!"

"I've got it!" Yang could hear the vicious smile in Ruby's voice.

Footsteps. Weiss and Blake were running towards them, and a glance in their direction let Yang catch a glimpse of the running battle the other four would-be students were having with the Death Stalker.

"Blake, Weiss!" Ruby spun out of the way of an especially big feather, the Nevermore taking flight, rising up and into a slow orbit around the valley. "Slingshot!"

Weiss was the one to answer. "… What!?" she screeched, and Ruby briefly looked like she was about to scream.

Yang breathed.

You got this.

You got this.

Tell them what you mean.

You can do this, Ruby.

Ruby breathed.

"Blake," she spoke, eyes glowing with an excitement that was almost feverish, "Can you string Gambol Shroud between those pillars?" Another breath. "Weiss, how much Gravity Dust can you put into a glyph?"

The hidden Faunus blinked at the request. Weiss looked about to ask what that was meant to do. To Yang's eternal amusement, it clicked for both at the exact same time.

"… I can do that," Blake told them.

"If you intend to do what I think you are…?" Weiss bit her lip. "Enough. Hitting that Nevermore, though…"

Yang grinned. "Guess that's where I come in, huh?"

Ruby nodded, her grin widening as things began to click into place. "Yep! If you can get it close to that cliff over there-" she pointed, "I'll take care of the rest!"

"Got it. Catapult?"

"Catapult?" Weiss asked.

Ruby turned Crescent Rose's bolt's handle, closing the muzzle break's vents on one side, and opening them wide on the other. She swung the scythe behind herself as far as she could reach, the blade's tip pointed down and the shaft up at an angle.

Yang got into position, a few steps behind Ruby, walking as she turned to track the circling Nevermore. It struggled to open its beak, finally un-nailing it with an utterly furious screech before it rolled and turned towards them.

One heartbeat.

Another.

The Nevermore was committed to the dive. Claws reached out, wings spread, beak opening for a screa-

A pulse.

Yang moved. Her legs pushed her forwards; running by the first step, and then jumping by the second. Her next landed right on the hook of Crescent Rose.

Ruby squeezed the trigger and swung forwards as hard as she could; the acceleration was violent and Yang briefly wondered how Ruby could handle it when she was the one throwing her around. Briefly, because then the Nevermore was filling her vision.

A blast from Ember Celica sent Yang a handsbreadth away from its open beak, and another sent her crashing into the thing's skull. Her left hand caught the bony protrusion of the Grimm's bone mask, her feet swung around to plant themselves on the back of its neck, and Yang cocked her right arm back, fist clench and two shells of Fire Dust enhanced buckshot loaded in both chambers.

"Missed me again!" Yang crowed, before punching the Nevermore in its right eye.

[xknivesandpensx]

Like Pieces of a Puzzle

Chapter 13

Summary: What if Harry wasn't the only extra student called upon to participate in the Triwizard Tournament? Far from the most popular candidate, Draco not only has to take on the trials but also deal with his unexpected feelings for Hermione. Will he be able to face the challenges as well as follow his heart? Chapter length will vary. I'll be referencing both the books and movie versions. Some things from what I've previously written will be mentioned, all of which you can find here.  And for those who asked to be tagged: @dayane245love

Hermione tried not to watch Harry too closely as they descended into the dungeons after lunch. She knew Double Potions always caused him to be a bit petulant, especially since they shared class with the Slytherins (not that Snape aided in uplifting his mood either).

A part of her remained more concerned about his fight with Ron, given the two still haven’t spoken to one another and had no intention of trying to mend any bridges. It irritated Harry every time Hermione tried bringing him up so she settled on letting them figure it out.

“I finished your essay for you last night. Although, you really should’ve done it yourself considering we’re working on antidotes today,” Hermione mentioned, breaking the silence.

“Between avoiding everyone and the common room in general, I hadn’t the time. Thanks anyway. The last thing I need is Snape going on about another unfinished assignment.” Harry paused, catching sight of Malfoy and his usual crew standing outside the door.

Each of them wore large badges with the words POTTER STINKS glowing a bright green against a black background. Initially, Harry thought they had S.P.E.W. written across, seeing as Hermione kept pestering others about the importance of house elves. He should’ve known they’d never wear one.

He wished they’d stop blocking the entrance. It gave him no choice but to face the group when all he sought was to get Snape’s lesson over with. Harry already braced himself for another round of Hermione’s consistent chant of ignore them, said under her breath whenever someone commented on his champion status.

He didn’t care too much how Malfoy took to handling the situation. He appeared rather coolheaded on the outside, yet his anxious disposition on the night of their choosing remained locked in his memory.

“Like them, Potter?” Draco asked after noticing the pair. “It comes to no surprise you’re least popular. Even your own house thinks the worst of you for getting in the tournament. It wouldn’t surprise me if they started asking for some as well.” 

Hermione rolled her eyes, ignoring Pansy’s loud giggles and evident necessity to be right at his side. “Oh, how very funny. Really witty. I’m shocked you didn’t add anything more.”

Almost magnetically his gaze drew towards her. It hardly mattered if Hermione donned the same uniform as everyone else, she still managed to stand out against the cluster of students slowly filling behind. The second he saw her in such a light, an image of his parents flashed, forcing a steady reminder.

He suppressed what he could and pulled out an extra badge, offering it to her. “Want one, Granger? I’ve got loads. But don’t touch my hand. I just washed it. I wouldn’t want a Mudblood sliming it up.”

Harry’s embarrassment, cheeks lightly flushed after laughter erupted, quickly jumped to anger. He kept the feeling buried underneath for days and it finally found reason to burst through. Before he got the chance to take out his wand, he felt a pull at his arm.

“Stop! You’ll get in trouble,” Hermione warned, aware of what he’d resort to. She then faced Draco, unwilling to be fazed by the other Slytherins staring her down.  “I don’t seem to recall you minding me touching your hand when you needed help.”

Draco lost his smug smile, tensing slightly. He glowered, sneering instead. “It sad, really, that you’ve got to make things up. As if I’d ever let you come anywhere near me,”

“Which is more likely? Me creating a story or you denying it ever happened? I can’t see how I’d benefit from lying.” Hermione ignored the heaviness against her chest, all too conscious of the puzzled expressions forming after her retort.

He shrugged, trying to force an indifferent pretense. “I’m not denying anything because it’s not true. And actually, I don’t appreciate the accusation.”

Harry started to wonder when the two of them started having rows of their own. They always began between Malfoy and himself, then somehow switched focus whenever Hermione got involved. Their bickering almost reminded him of how she and Ron constantly fought.

Suddenly, the noise died down. Harry didn’t need to turn around to find out why.

“What are you all doing standing outside the classroom?” Snape asked, eyeing each of them, lingering slightly longer on the Gryffindors. “I suggest you get in your seats before I start docking points.”

Harry hurried in and settled in his normal chair next to Hermione, trying not to glare daggers at the professor’s back when his head turned. Positive a detention would’ve been given if not for the Slytherins causing the holdup.

Snape made his way to the front. “We went over the specifics of your assignment last we saw one another. You’ll be split into pairs of my choosing… so stop inching yourself closer to Miss Granger, Mr. Potter. It won’t help you any, I’m afraid. No, I think you’ll benefit from working alongside Mr. Longbottom. The two of you seem to be on par when it comes to your potion skills.”

Harry’s hate for the man burned deeper. He didn’t know what was worse, getting openly mocked or enduring Malfoy’s not so subtle snickering.

It surprised Hermione to hear her name right after Draco’s, though it looked like a couple of students from different houses were mixed together. She gathered her belongings, requiring a few steady breaths prior to joining the empty space at his table.

Ron, sitting next to Dean, gave her a sympathetic look, thinking it rather unlucky to have him as a partner.

“You may all talk quietly amongst yourselves.” Snape paused for a moment, slowly folding his arms. “I will check on your progress in an hour’s time. If I catch any fooling around or off topic chatter, make no mistake, I will fail you. Anti-venom is not excessively complex but it requires accuracy. I want you to brew them carefully. As for your homework, it is to be given to me at the end of class.”

Draco kept his observation forward. He fought the wave of nervous energy threatening to rupture his chest. It proved to be futile. With each intake of air another wave of apprehension surged, feeling more hostile than the last. She sat so close the scent of her shampoo lingered heavily in the air. Some kind of flower, roses he presumed. The florid aroma floated about them during any close encounter, it took until now to pinpoint the exact smell.

He suddenly forgot how to speak. The constant repeating of reprimanding thoughts in his head blocked the outside noise. Maybe he should just say it and get the words out before they choked him.

“Are you paying attention to anything I’ve said?” Hermione asked, having already lit the fire under the caldron and spread out their needed ingredients. “I’m sure you don’t want to be partners any more than I do, but I’m not willing to fail because of it.”

He snapped back into reality, too jumbled up inside to properly respond and instead commented on something else. “Why did you have to mention that in front of everyone?”

Draco regretted the question the instant it left his lips. He switched his focus on his potions book, turning to the correct page, thinking she’d leave it unremarked upon. Obviously, he was wrong.

Hermione threw fire seeds into the boiling water, sprinkling a little anjelica in while stirring. “You know, you might actually be a decent person to be around if you weren’t so hung up on blood status. And I only mentioned it because…”

She hesitated, wondering why herself.

“Because you always have to prove a point, isn’t that right, Granger? Can’t even keep quiet in class. How silly of me to possibly expect anything less. And make no mistake, it won’t happen again.” Draco skimmed the page before taking a knife to chop a handful of vervain.

“I didn’t realize it was such a big secret. Honestly, I’m not sure why I bother. If you don’t want to be nice to me than be a little more consistent. It’s driving me mad.” She muttered the last part, reflecting more precisely of her emotional state whenever he flipped the switch.

“Maybe I could if you stopped making me feel –– ” Draco cut himself off, directing his gaze downward. He almost let it slip. How stupid of a mistake and with so many people nearby. Not that either of them raised their voices above a whisper.

Heat suddenly rose to his face, thinking his must've brain short circuited for a moment. The crushing reality of practically saying it out loud compelled him to remain quiet in fear of admitting it in full.

Confusion flickered, her heart speeding up a bit.

“Feel what?” The words left her in near stumble. By studying his countenance, she noticed a vague yet palpable difference. Something about his expression threw her off.

“Nothing. Forget it.” He went back to make another attempt at their project only to stop, sending a glare her way. “Will you quit staring at me and get back to stirring.”

Resisting the urge to do the exact opposite, she obliged. Though not willing to let the matter slip by. “I’m going to take a guess based off how you’ve been acting and say you’re afraid you’ll start to like me as a person if you admit it out loud? You’re scared if we have a conversation or get along, you might think I’m no different than yourself.”

Her analysis reminded him of when they were stuck in a supply closet at Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop at the end of last year. She read him easily back then in regards to his boggart, understanding more than he wanted or thought anyone could. He denied the absolute certitude of her deduction then as he intended to do now. Given her accuracy, thankfully Hermione hadn’t probed further and picked the pieces apart until she realized he genuinely felt something romantically towards her.

“Brillian story you just concocted. Making it a habit, I see.” He tossed the vervain in the cauldron. The liquid took on a shade of light green. “As if it’s possible for a filthy little Mudblood to mean anything to me.”

Hermione fought the realness of his answer, asking the next question more for herself. “Would it really be so bad?”

“Yes,” he snapped, noticeably catching Harry’s attention. “How about you try shutting up so we can get this stupid assignment over with.”

She said nothing else in return, fighting the need to further press her belief. Maybe all she managed to do by pointing out what she thought to be true, subjected him to push back. Again. Or perhaps Hermione simply desired her assumption to fall in the right. It was as if the more time they talked, the more justifiable her affections became. Merely to fracture whenever he resorted to open contempt.

Draco’s arm suddenly shot out, grabbing hold of her hand to prevent her from touching the snake venom required to counterbalance the antidote. She clearly didn’t notice it dripping down the side of the vial. “Watch what you’re doing.”

Even a second of direct interaction would produce an injurious effect strong enough to be sent promptly to Madam Pomfrey.

A light static pulse embarked across his skin from mere contact. His blue eyes met a pair of brown as he saw her features morph into a shy, flustered sort of quality, bordering on surprise and uncertainty.

The whole class might be watching them and he’d never know. Draco’s inability to move, much less look away, blinded him to the outside world. He knew the longer he remained frozen, the worse off he’d be, yet he couldn’t detach his fingers. Right after saying he’d never allow it too.

The sound of squeaking hinges screeched loudly, jolting him back. Draco let go immediately, drawing away as far as possible. His lungs unable to function.

Colin Creevey scurried past the students and spoke directly to Professor Snape. “I’m supposed to bring Harry and Draco upstairs. Mr. Bagman asked to see them. I think they want to take photographs and interview the champions.”

A long pause ensued, for if it was simply Harry, a negative response would’ve been given. “Very well.” He glanced between the two boys. “Hand me your homework on the way out. Your partner will finish your assignment and their grade will reflect your own.”

Hermione kept still as he proceeded to leave her side. Several things were circling her mind. Mostly on Draco, who oddly seemed to react opposite to his spoken aversion. But why overanalyze? It bewildered her more than ever and frankly she needed simplicity. An easy flow into a relationship. Something he’d never give her.

Knowing that still didn’t relinquish how she felt by any means. 

Draco got out the door first, not very keen on meeting anyone’s eyes. At this rate he’ll end up admitting his feelings by accident. It left him rather tangled up inside.

Colin departed once they exited the dungeon (mentioning his need to fetch Cedric), only then did Harry bring himself to say something. He saw their entire exchange near the end, lacking the ability to hear them, of course. And given Neville’s faulty skills in potions, his knew grade would suffer.

He certainly hated the idea of photos and answering questions. The ridicule he already received hit bad enough. This held the potential of making it a lot worse.

Harry waited until they came into the entrance hall, quickening his strides to keep up, fully intent to be blunt. “What’s going on with you and Hermione?”

The question hit like the shatter of glass. If he noticed, who else did? “How about you mind your own business, Potter.”

“Funny, I didn’t realize there was anything happening between the two of you to mind.” Harry waited yet no response came. “You’ve been acting dodgy lately, more than normal in any case and it’s usually while Hermione’s around. I really don’t care about your reasons, though I can guess. Just leave her alone.”

“And if I don’t then what?” Draco stopped, looking rather peeved and scornful. “Since you’re so very bothered by it, perhaps I won’t leave her alone at all. I usually refrain from going out of my way where that Mudblood is concerned. I suppose I simply required the right motivation.”

A hollow threat, no doubt, but a good excuse if he got caught near her.

Harry’s attempt to retort vanished as they approached the classroom Colin mentioned while they were ascending the stairs, Draco gone from his side instantly. Exasperation flared, lodged in his throat. He’d have to give Hermione the heads-up once this whole ordeal ended.

[innocentlymacabre]

Purple

11.08.21

This is the story of the day the sky burned a fierce purple. A colour otherwise docile, calm, accepting, and welcoming, lit up the sky in an eddy of hues, for it is the quiet ones who snap the loudest.

The sky burned purple, somewhere halfway between the calm contentness of blue and the rage of red. One flowed through another until neither were recognisable anymore and something unheard of beckoned in its place.

You would think that a crimson sky would hurt the most, that pure, unadulterated rage, would be the most painful shade to scream at you; you would think that, and you would be wrong. Pure rage can be acclimatised to. You get used to it. You see the red sky for long enough and slowly you begin to forget that it can be blue. That it should be blue.

***

The sky glowed blue. It glowed a wonderful hue of blue, a perfect image of the calm, welcoming waters below. The flowers, the smallest of the smallest shrubbery, all shimmered in delight, welcoming the breeze that tickled them silly. The world worked in blissful harmony.

But as with all good things, it was short lived. The harmony of blue began to be wiped out and replaced with the rage of red. It poured into every crevice, every cranny, every open receptacle, usurping blue's reign.

In the end, they both lost who they were. War changes people. It transforms and concocts them into something else entirely, and the sky, the sky is no different.

Thus began the reign of purple. Purple, which glowered with anger and menace far worse than red would ever have been capable of. Purple, which took everything good in the world and stripped it bare until it wasn't. Until it was no longer good nor bad, it just wasn't. A non-state, unable to comprehend purple's harshness, choosing instead to run away, to escape purple's darkness.

From that day forth, the sky shone blue only within the confines of unconsciousness, when the mind is free to roam the lands of the past and comfort. But, as with everything, there will come a day when that too will fade. When the past tries to reach back and only finds purple skies. That will be the day the sky ceases to exist and the ground crumbles.

The day hope evades even the realm of dreams will be the end of time.

-----

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[corvidmagicae]

　 　 “... What?”

It's a very simple response, one heard by the witch many a time before. Any other mage who knew her reputation may have been cowed by her annoyed glower, those sharp red eyes glowing beneath the brim of her hat... but those who had actually gotten to know her would recognize the subdued disbelief and confusion in her expression was vastly dwarfing any irritation.

The suited human shoving a manilla folder in Bridgette's face? She fell into the later category. If anything, the woman - affectionately self-nicknamed 'Gadget' (since she refused to even remotely share any other name) - would just give a snicker at the elder's expression, rolling her eyes.

　 　 “C'mon, Biddie. You're old, but i know you're not deaf. Some of the younger fanged folk haven't gotten the memo yet that we're 'off the menu.'”

And immediately held her hand up to interrupt Bridgette's attempt to shoot a quip back at the wording choice.

　 　 “Yeah yeah, i know vampires aren't your forte. That isn't why the old ladies are putting this on your radar. THIS is.” The youngster opened the folder, slipping a couple of photographs out - the first a message scrawled at the scene of the crime, mentioning a particular newcomer to the local gangs.... and the second? A candid image of a familiar blonde. And Bridgette bit back a snarl, one of her fangs showing.

　 　 “The kid's alive - someone outside our group got to her first, obviously. Hopefully they know what they're doing to mitigate vampire bites. Something something, gotta wait out the poison, yeah? Keep them alive long enough? You'd know that sort of thing better than me. The problem is the group in question, and what happened to the biter. The dude's uh... he's not presentable. Not gunna show those images. But a little bit of clairvoyance got us a look at who decided to do some vigilante justice."

Gadget nudges the photo of the blonde towards Bri.

　 　 “So... yeah. That one's yours, isn't she?”

　 　 “She's not mine-”

　 　 “Yeah yeah, fae bullshit. But the point is, she's involved. And the old girls upstairs don't really don't care whatever rivalry you two have going on.... but they've decided that she's your responsibility. For uh... obvious reasons. If it were just her, it wouldn't be a problem, but this Vulcan thing has them rattled. Just... keep an eye on her maybe? Or give her a history lesson, or something. I dunno. You're the most contact she's had with the rest of SIBYL, so if anyone's going to get a better read of her and what she's trying to do, or better yet maybe get her to be less public, it's you.”

Oh, now Gadget's actually taking a moment to breath. Not before smacking the shorter witch on the forehead with the folder, unspoken yet light reprimanding, before dropping the folder in Bridgette's hands, but she's ceased talking none-the-less.

Not that Bridgette's taking the chance to talk. No, she's just running a palm along her face in an exasperated motion, pinching the bridge of her nose while she takes a moment to process what she's been told.

　 　 “Oh, goddammit Krupp. The hell have you done?”

[theshiningidols-koukuron]

～𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐀𝐑𝐘 ✨～

『𝑩𝒂𝒓𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑼𝒏𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒅 』

—𝘐𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘤𝘺 𝘓𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘭：🔴⚫⚫⚫⚫

ーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーー

(𝙿𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎：「𝗥𝘆𝗼𝘂𝘁𝗲𝗶 𝗔𝗰𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗺𝘆 」— 𝙎𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙡 𝙍𝙤𝙤𝙛𝙩𝙤𝙥

ーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーー

“...Eh?”

“...Tsk.”

I stood absolutely frozen on the spot, the sight casted before me was simply so peculiar yet …intimidating at the same time, as they both seem to glower towards my presence, the look on their faces clearly unamused, especially the blonde idol …that was half seated on Sir Kuron's lap…

Their current positions were…something quite questionable, to say the least.

“...Why didn't you knock before coming in? How impolite…Charging in simply just like that without getting our consent first.”

I jolt at Kou's exceptionally spike cold tone of voice and take a small step back as I met with his rather sharp glare.

“...I was the one that forgot to lock the door, don't blame her.”

Kuron explained with a soothing voice, before turning to look at me.

“Little one, what's up? Is there something that you need—”

He must've noticed the book that was held in my hands, as a look of bewildered acknowledgement crossed his face, then he averted his gaze with a slight apologetical look,

“—...Oh, right right, you're here to ask me about your homework…correct? My apologies, I have totally forgotten about this—”

“—...But, umm…do you mind waiting for a bit?”

Gradually, he lifted up a hand and placed it on Kou's stomach, in which the other reacted with a visible shudder as he did that, but then a smirk crossed those lips— both of their lips as I swore that there was a sort of dim hue glow illuminating under Kou's bangs from his hidden eye…

“At the moment I'm…pretty engaged, right here~ Well...—”

“...We're having a meeting ♪ Lil Maso Kitty, can you maybe come back later? See ya~”

Kou interrupted promptly, one hand lifted as he waved me off—

And just like that, I sense a certain invisible force that seems to push me backwards until I'm out of the room, then the door shut right in my face, without both of them even moving from their seat, followed by a click that indicated the door locking, then all was silent…

“......”

I stand there, dumbfounded, staring towards the closed wooden door at my face, lost, confused, unsure what to do. But I know one thing for sure …I shouldn't be staying outside the door, and listen in on whatever was being engaged inside... rude as it was. Backing away from the door, I start to head back towards my homeroom. While walking, the image of what I've seen float suddenly back into my mind, and my brows crease at the sight of it, mind soon falling in a silent wonderment .. Kou and Kuron…these two idols known for their fame, and for being in the relationship of a student and teacher in school… …The way Kou seemed to be snuggled up against Kuron, and how Kuron placed his hand so nimbly on Kou's stomach like that… …Are they, merely just best friends as they claim to be—

—Just, what kind of secrets…do they hide, within the darkness of the unknown?

[ragingbookdragon]

I Saw It Coming When You Threw The First Punch

Batmom x Batfamily One-Shot

Word Count: 1.7K Warnings: Explicit Language, Mentions of Violence

Author's Note: I honestly feel like I get my irritation from people out by writing stories where the characters punch people. I live vicariously through my characters. Enjoy! -Thorne

Getting the call that his wife had been taken into GCPD custody was not one that Bruce had ever expected to receive. Not in a million years. And yet, low and behold, Gordon had called sounding apologetic that she’d been detained after a physical altercation at the gala she’d hosted earlier that evening.

Which was absolutely baffling to him, because the only person more anal retentive about screwing up at a gala than Alfred, was his wife. So, something must’ve seriously set her off if she’d hauled off on somebody. And Gordon had made it quite clear that it was his wife that threw the first punch, though beyond that, he didn’t know what else had occurred because she’d invoked her rights to the company lawyer and to remain silent, simply staring at the wall while the other officers tried to get a story out of her—Bruce knew she wouldn’t crack. Other than him, his wife had a reserve that no man, alien, or god could break. He’d never say it, but he was envious of his wife’s willpower.

He arrived rather quickly with all four sons in tow, knowing that the sight of the entire family would probably help her chances of getting out and they waited patiently to be escorted to where she was being held.

When they arrived at the interrogation room, they saw her sitting there with crossed legs, hands placed palm down on the table. Her eyes were closed in what Bruce recognized as her deep meditative state; the one she used to fight off telepathic control from enemies—she was probably recounting what happened that night.

“What are the charges?” he asked Gordon and the older man sighed.

“Simple battery and public disturbance.”

Bruce hummed lowly in his throat and gazed at his wife. “How do you see this playing out for her?”

“If the woman she keelhauled doesn’t press charges, there’s possibility of probation with community service.”

He had to play naïve. “And if she does?”

Gordon met his gaze. “Then you’re looking at your wife going into lockup for a year.”

Bruce let out a sigh. “I’ll call our lawyer then.”

“I’ll give you and your wife some privacy,” he replied, hitting a button on the keypad beside the door, and the glass went dark while the glowing red button recording the room turned off.

“Thank you, Gordon,” he said, and the detective waved as he walked off, closing the door to the interrogation room behind him. Bruce looked at his sons. “Let’s go see what set your mom off tonight.”

***

The door to the room opened but she didn’t open her eyes, still under the cold water in her retreat.

“(Y/N),” someone murmured and though the voice was familiar, she didn’t come to yet.

“(Y/N),” they repeated a bit firmer. “Come back up.”

Ever so slowly, she allowed her mind to come back from the deep waters and she opened her eyes, smiling at her husband and sons.

“Good evening family.” Damian immediately sprinted to her and buried his face in her neck, and she laughed, running a hand through his short dark hair. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“You are in trouble,” he murmured and pulled away to look into her eyes. “We will do whatever you need, Umi.”

(Y/N) snorted. “Don’t worry about me baby. Knowing Little Miss Martha May, she’s not going to press charges over our spat.”

“I think simple battery is bit more than a spat, mom,” Dick worried, brows furrowing in concern. “What did you two even start fighting about?”

Her eyes darted to the glass then to Bruce and he said, “Gordon turned off the cameras.”

“Mom,” Tim started, and she looked at him; he held up his phone screen. “I just assured that you’re protected here.”

She nodded and let out a sigh. “I knew I should’ve just walked away but I couldn’t help it. She just set me off like a match to gunpowder.”

“What’d you guys even duke it out over,” Jason questioned, and she sighed again, recounting the night.

***

“You’ve thrown another wonderful party, Miss Wayne,” Lucius murmured, handing her a champagne glass.

She grinned widely, thanking him. “Thank you, Lucius, I try.”

“Clan couldn’t come tonight?”

“You’ve always been perceptive about us, haven’t you?”

“To use your words, I try,” he laughed, and she nodded.

“Patrol started early tonight,” she said inconspicuously, eyes shifting around to glance at who was walking near them. “Besides, most of them only come to these to appease the crowd.”

“Ah, yes, I forgot that you’re the only one who actually enjoys these.”

“Only when Bruce and the kids are here,” she corrected. “It’s easier to bullshit when they’re here to pick up the slack.”

He barked a laugh and she chuckled in return when someone walked up to them. She turned and immediately grimaced at the old classmate of hers.

“(Y/N), such a beautiful party you’ve thrown tonight,” the woman greeted, though it was laced with cheerful fakeness.

She plastered a smile on her face. “Good evening, Marianne. I didn’t expect to see you tonight.”

“Oh, you know me, I’m always up for a party.” Her eyes drifted around. “Where is your husband? I wanted to thank him for the gift basket he sent after my operation.” Marianne gave her a sarcastic smile. “Isn’t it rather off for a host to avoid his own party?”

Note to self, yell at Bruce for sending her a gift.

“He had to work late tonight. So did the boys.” (Y/N) matched her smile. “I’m sure they’d be delighted to know that you thought of them though.”

Something shifted in Marianne’s eyes. “Oh yes, the children you have.” She leaned in close and murmured, “You know I’ve been hearing some rather negative rumors about yours and Bruce’s decision to adopt orphans rather than have some of your own.”

(Y/N) blinked, not sure if she should be shocked or unimpressed. “Really? Care to enlighten me?”

Marianne waved a hand. “The major one is that you simply took pity on the strays because you were barren.” She felt like she’d been slapped across the face and her jaw dropped as she gaped at the woman.

Apparently, that was all the ammunition that Marianne needed because she offered a sympathetic smile an placed a hand on (Y/N)’s arm. “Oh, you poor dear.” She patted her arm again. “You should’ve come to me instead of adopting orphans. I would’ve been happy to be a surrogate for you.”

(Y/N) shrugged the hand off her arm and reached up, pulling the silver teardrop earrings from her ears. “Yeah, those orphans aren’t mine, not biologically.”

She pulled off her diamond wedding rings and handed them and the earrings over to Lucius who took them and stepped back.

“But you know what they are?” she glowered at Marianne and seethed, “They’re my sons.”

The next thing anyone knew, the two women were rolling on the floor, their hostess throwing punches that seemed to make everyone wince when they connected to the woman’s face.

***

“And all I remember was being escorted down here,” she finalized, eyes drifting to Bruce’s.

He simply stared at her for a moment before he let out a heavy sigh and put his face in his hands. “I’m proud that you defended our family, but at the same time, I’m disappointed that you let Marianne set you off.”

(Y/N) crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh, so you’re taking her side?”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it,” Bruce shot back. “If she decides to press charges, you’re going to be in lockup for a year.”

“She’s not.”

“You don’t know that, (Y/N).”

“No, I do,” she blinked and leaned forward. “If Marianne doesn’t want me to ruin her image with shit she did when she was a teenager, she’ll keep her mouth shut and take the blame for this.”

“What’d she do, Ma?” Jason questioned curiously and she turned her attention to him.

“Enough that’ll disgrace her image amongst every elite this side of the globe if she tries me anymore.”

Before anyone could say anything, the door opened and they turned, seeing Gordon walking in. “Good evening, Miss Wayne,” he greeted, and she smiled.

“Good evening, Jim. How’s your night so far?”

He chuckled. “Not too bad. I got to detain my favorite socialite and listen to all my officers speculate what she did.”

(Y/N) lifted her hands palm up beside her shoulders. “I live to please, Jim, you know that.”

“I do.” He walked over and handed her a few papers. “When asked if she wanted to press charges, Marianne Walters declined. She instead gave a rather detailed statement that she instigated the fight and threw the first punch.” He stared at the busted lip she had. “Does that match what happened?”

She quickly looked over the papers and nodded. “Yes, that’s true.”

Gordon sighed. “Do you wish to press charges?”

(Y/N) shook her head. “No,” she smiled. “There’s no reason to make a fuss about this.”

“…Miss Wayne, you and Miss Walters are all over the news.”

She shrugged. “And people have very short memories. They’ll forget about this.” She handed back the papers. “Send this to my lawyer and she’ll handle it with the prosecutors.”

“You think they won’t press charges despite Walters?” Gordon asked and she nodded.

“Oh, they won’t,” she said then looked at the clock. “Am I free to leave? It’s been a long night.”

Gordon let out a heavy sigh and nodded. “Yes Miss Wayne, you’re free to leave now.”

(Y/N) rose. “Wonderful.” She looked at her sons. “Boys, let’s go.”

They followed her and Bruce stood from the table, standing beside Gordon. “Thank you, Jim.”

Gordon grunted. “I know (Y/N) threw the first punch.”

“You do?”

“Of course, I do.” He huffed. “And I don’t blame her either.” He watched (Y/N) laugh at something Dick said while the others groaned around him. “You’ve got a good woman, Bruce. Good wife. Even better mother.”

Bruce looked at his wife and let an easy smile cross his lips as she pulled them all into hugs. “Yeah…yeah, I do, don’t I.”

[starlight-loki]

Precautionary Surveillance (Loki x Reader)

Or, That Time You and Loki Became Friends

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: none :)

A/N: this is platonic (and gender neutral! :D )

As this is my first imagine, I kind of just wanted to establish how the reader first meets Loki, but I’ve got plenty more fluff in the works! ;)

also this takes place post-Ragnarok, but Infinity War doesn’t exist here, shHHHH

Despite the long list of risks and expectations that came with living with the Avengers in their compound, you never thought that babysitting Loki would be included. And yet, a mere two weeks after having moved into the compound, Tony sheepishly approached you with the news.

He didn’t word-for-word call it ‘babysitting’ of course, but you knew it was definitely implied. 

“Think of it as... precautionary surveillance.” Tony had explained to you that morning as he packed a small backpack, supposedly containing enough supplies to last for a week-long mission. “Or if that’s too much, just be normal roommates. But check in on him every few hours. Make sure he’s not destroying anything. And don’t let him go out. Or to my lab. Or Bruce’s. Or the roof-”

“Okay, I get it Tony,” you rolled your eyes as you heaved out a sigh. “You want me to babysit Loki.” 

Tony shrugged, and patted your shoulder empathetically before zipping up his backpack. “Your words, kid. Not mine. Like I said, it’s just precautionary surveillance, we’ll be back before you know it.” 

“I don’t understand why you can’t just bring him along with you!” You protested, throwing your hands up in the air. “His fighting skills and abilities would be really useful for your mission, you know that right?”

You were fine with the fact that Tony and Steve weren’t confident enough in your fighting abilities to bring you along on missions just yet -- frankly, you were completely happy staying behind and burying your nose in a book. But now Tony wanted you to babysit Loki, going so far as asking you to log any ‘suspicious activity’ from the god. You thought the entire thing was ridiculous.

“You know why, Y/N.” Tony began sternly, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and starting towards the quinjet hangar. He was walking briskly, and you scowled as you had to practically run after him. “The New York Incident? The two-hundred or so times he’s betrayed Thor? That time he stuck his dad in an old folks home here and just paraded around Asgard in disguise for two years?”

“New York was nearly ten years ago!” You protested. “Look at him now, all he does is putter around the compound in sweatpants because you won’t let him out-”

Tony sighed loudly, cutting you off mid-sentence. “Look, I know you’re new here and you mean well, but we don’t trust him Y/N. Thor dragged him here because Asgard’s gone and there’s nowhere else for them to go, but Loki is not one of us. It’s going to be a damn long time before any of us think anything different of him.”

You glowered at Tony, fighting the tiny glow of anger that sparked in your heart when you heard him talk about Loki like that. 

You had stolen glances at Loki last week when he thought no one else was looking, and you knew he was far from the dysfunctional maniac who tried to take over New York all those years ago. Sure, the dysfunctional part may still remain, but he was far from a maniac -- you could see that in his features when he sat on the couch alone that day, flipping through a small worn book. 

He looked... lost. Empty almost, as if any possibility of a joyful life had been stripped from him. It hurt your heart to see someone sit with their own melancholy the way Loki did. The fact that no one else in the Compound trusted him -- evident from the fact that you were being put on babysitting duty this instant -- didn’t make things any better. 

“Take care of yourself, kid.” Tony said, pulling you in for a fairly awkward one-armed hug. “Keep an eye on Loki, but don’t do anything stupid.”

You frowned. “What does that mean?” 

“Just... keep your distance from him.” 

Tony’s words brought the image of Loki sitting alone in sadness back to the front of your mind, and you decided right then and there that you were going to do exactly the opposite of what Tony was suggesting. 

The first day felt like an eternity. Loki remained in his room with the door shut, and with no one else to chat with and pass the time, time seemed to crawl at an eerily slow pace. 

You made pasta for dinner. You figured the sound of pots, pans, and kitchen utensils clanging every now and then as you cooked would summon the lonely Asgardian out of his room to eat at the very least, and you couldn’t help the little sting of disappointment that appeared when you finished your meal as alone as you had been earlier. 

After placing your own bowl in the sink, you grabbed Loki’s portion you had set aside and padded down the hall to his room. You tried to ignore the slight tremble in your hand as you knocked on his door. 

“Loki?” You asked gently. “You there?”

You were greeted with a faint shuffling noise, but otherwise there was nothing but silence. 

“I made you dinner. I haven’t seen you all day, you must be hungry... um... I mean, you don’t have to eat of course if you don’t want to, but I’ll just... I’ll leave this here at your door if you want it. No pressure.” 

You felt fire rush to your cheeks as you cursed yourself silently for rambling, and carefully set the bowl of pasta on the floor. 

“If you want anything,” you added quickly in a voice that was barely louder than a whisper. “More food, tea, some company... I’m in the other room.” 

You stood frozen at Loki’s door for a moment, waiting for any sort of response. Earning nothing but more silence, you nodded to yourself before turning on your heel and heading back for the kitchen. 

You looked back over your shoulder before you rounded the corner at the end of the hall, and the pasta bowl was gone. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself. 

The second and third day passed much like the first. If it weren’t for the fact that Loki was constantly on your mind, it would’ve felt like you had the entire place to yourself. You would have enjoyed the quiet, but there was a part of you that couldn’t stop worrying about Loki. 

After the god failed to leave his room once again, you brought dinner to his door which was hastily accompanied by another short little babble of an invitation to join you in the living room if he wished. Just like day one, you were greeted with silence and a meal that vanished out of the hall just before you turned the corner. 

On the fourth day, you couldn’t get Loki out of your head no matter how hard you tried. Was he lonely? Bored? Did he sleep the entire day? Did he even sleep at all? The rooms in the Compound were just about the same: spacious, yet minimal in decoration. Everyone got a TV and a small bookshelf in the corner, but that was about it. Judging by the fact that Tony and the rest of the Avengers weren’t allowing Loki to leave the Compound, you figured he probably didn’t have much for entertainment. 

Before you could convince yourself otherwise, you dashed off to your beloved little bookstore in the city. You ransacked the shelves for anything you felt Loki would’ve liked, as well as books you adored and would’ve wholeheartedly recommended to anyone else. If Loki was going to spend all day in his room, he deserved to have new books to keep him company, at the very least. 

Two hours later you returned home, your shoulder aching from the countless books that were weighing you down in the best way, and to your surprise you found Loki with his back to you in the kitchen. 

Was he... doing the dishes for you? 

You dropped your tote bag of books to the ground in surprise, and Loki flinched almost imperceptibly at the dull thud that echoed throughout the open space of the Compound. 

“Hi,” You managed breathlessly as the god turned and looked at you with wide eyes for the briefest second. You blinked, and just like that Loki had regained his cool composure. “You’ve finally come out of your room.”

Loki opened his mouth to reply, his eyes scanning the room as he searched for an excuse. After a moment of silence, he sighed. 

“Thank you for the meals. I appreciate it.” 

You took off your coat and hung it on the chair as you approached him. Your heart sank ever so slightly as you caught Loki take the smallest step back. 

“Of course, I mean... we all gotta eat right?” You laughed quietly and looked away as you ran a hand through your hair. “You don’t have to clean up, I can do that.” 

“It was the least I could do in return.” 

The silence that grew between the two of you seemed to amplify with every passing second. Loki nodded, almost out of resignation, and began to walk back to his room without a word. 

Now was your chance, if you wanted to make him feel welcome like you had hoped to. 

“Wait!” Your voice came out more as a squeak and you tried your best to ignore the fire that rose to your cheeks. “I, uh, I got these for you.” 

As you bent down to retrieve your fallen bag of books, you heard quiet careful steps as Loki approached you cautiously. He kept his distance, but leaned a little closer to you as you began laying all the books out on the table for him to see. 

“I picked out a few books I’ve read and love dearly. I figured you could give them a try. And... I, uh, saw you reading Shakespeare last week, so I thought you might like these two.” You gestured to the novels closest to him. “They’re  Ancient Greek tragedies.”

You glanced at Loki, and noticed how he picked up Oedipus Rex and began flipping through the pages carefully, as if the book were to vanish from his hands at any moment. 

“I’ve never read this one before,” Loki mused quietly. Your heart skipped a beat as his steady gaze moved to meet your eyes. “When would you like me to return these to you?”

You blinked in surprise. “They’re for you to keep.” You smiled. “I bought them for you.” 

You watched as gratitude, then confusion, then what almost looked shame flash across Loki’s features. He almost seem to clutch the book tighter in his grip.

“...Why?”

You pulled out the chair that you were leaning against and sat down with a sigh as you looked up at Loki. 

“I don’t like how everyone’s been treating you.” You admitted quietly.

“So this is out of pity?” Loki asked cooly, nodding at the books on the table with narrowed eyes.

 “No!” You exclaimed, shaking your head rapidly. “No, Loki, that wasn’t my intention at all. I mean, I’ve only been here two weeks and I could see immediately that everyone keeps their distance from you. You’re not allowed on missions-”

“Neither are you.” Loki cut in. You dismissed him with a wave of your hand. 

“Yeah, but I’m the weakest link at the moment. I don’t count.” You replied quickly, trying your best to ignore the intrigue on Loki’s face as he gazed at you. “I saw you last week, reading your book. You looked so lonely. I thought maybe you just wanted some space, but I’ve noticed how the others treat you. Tony and everyone else, they leave you out of everything! They don’t try to include you in conversations at dinner, you wear the same two pairs of clothes everyday because no one’s bothered to get you any decent clothes besides sweatpants. Hell, Tony kept me off this mission to babysit you and it makes me so mad! You’re an adult! You deserve your own freedom, Loki!”

You slammed your hand down on the table in frustration, and winced as your words replayed in your head. You definitely went overboard this time. You should’ve just given Loki the books and left.

You were certain Loki was going to retreat back to his room as he moved away from you and around the table, but to your surprise, he sat down in the chair across from you, his hands clasped carefully together.

“Perhaps Stark is right, this is what I deserve.” He said quietly, breaking the silence that resided between the two of you. “I haven’t exactly been... welcoming to anyone.”

You shook your head. “You lost Asgard, your family... Thor brought you here with the intention of this being your new home. The least everyone could is treat you like a person, not a hostage. This isn’t a prison. You deserve so much more than that.” 

“They don’t want me around.” Loki said simply. 

“I do.” You held his gaze unwaveringly, and reached out to place your hand gently over his. To your surprise, he didn’t pull away. “I want you around. You matter to me.” 

Loki sighed, his eyes fluttering closed for a brief second as he took in your words. 

“Thank you.” He spoke slowly. “Your words -- and your actions -- mean more than anything Stark or anyone else has done in the time I’ve been here.”

You smiled in response, giving his hand a gentle squeeze before pushing his books towards him. 

“You’ve got plenty of things to do while you’re in your room now.” You grinned nodding towards the books on the table. Anyone else would’ve missed it, but you caught Loki return your smirk for a split second. 

“I think I would prefer to read my books out here... with company.” 

The following day was nothing like the others. To your surprise, Loki greeted you with a small smile from his spot on the couch as you trudged bleary-eyed into the kitchen to prepare breakfast.

“You look tired.” He remarked quietly as you began searching the cupboards for something to eat. You managed a shrug.

“I don’t sleep that great most nights.” You admitted. You heard Loki get up from the couch, setting his book down on the coffee table gently before approaching you. He still kept some distance -- the kitchen counter did a good job of separating the two of you -- but he leaned in, almost grateful to be in the presence of someone who truly saw him. 

“Me neither.” Loki chuckled. “Thor sleeps like the dead, but I rarely sleep well. That’s how my love for books began, actually.”  

“Me too!” You exclaimed excitedly. “I’d stay up reading till 1 or 2 AM some nights as a kid. I’d have to use a flashlight and hide under the covers so I wouldn’t wake anyone up.”

That earned a genuine laugh from Loki, whose smile suddenly began to look like sunshine in your eyes. 

“I used magic to see in the dark, but hiding under the covers was the only way I could read at night without waking Thor up.”

“You shared a room with Thor?” 

Loki nodded, scoffing a little. “My mother thought it would help reinforce our bond as brothers. A lot of good that did.”

You leaned in towards him, your posture mirroring his as you rested your arms against the kitchen counter. 

“Thor still loves you.” You said quietly, a small smile touching your lips for a brief moment. Loki rolled his eyes.

“Sure he does.”

“No, really. He wouldn’t have brought you here to live with him if he didn’t. You guys got here before me of course, but I’m sure he had to pull a lot of strings to get Tony to agree to have you live in the Compound.” 

There was that silence again, like the day before, settling down gently between the two of you. You lowered your gaze to your hands. 

“Sorry. I meddle too much. I should stop.” 

This time, it was Loki who placed his hands over yours gently. 

“No,” he replied softly. “You speak your mind, I admire that. It shows you have strength.” 

“I don’t always feel strong.” You admitted quietly. 

“Only the foolish admit their own strength.” Loki whispered.

“...Does that mean Tony’s a fool?”

“Your words, not mine.”

A laugh bubbled up out of you at Loki’s words, and as your eyes met his, you noticed the loneliness you had seen before was gone. 

In their place was the warmth of a thousand suns. 

The two of you stood there, hands intertwined almost as if to keep the other afloat. Loki’s hands made yours seem small, but his were warm and soft and surprisingly gentle.

You closed you eyes, taking as much of this moment in as you could.

“I wish they’d let you outside.” You sighed quietly. “There’s so many shops and restaurants I think you’d like. You’d love Central Park, too.”

Loki frowned. “When is everyone due back?”

“In two days. Why?” 

You got a smirk in response. “Let’s go now.”

You let out a surprised laugh at Loki’s suggestion. It thrilled you to see this side of him.

“We can’t! Tony’s got cameras around the building, he’ll see us if we leave.”

Butterflies filled your insides for a brief moment as Loki suddenly winked at you. He raised his hand, which had begun to glow with a green hue, before snapping his fingers. Green sparks flashed briefly from the windows as he did so. 

“I believe Stark will be needing to replace his cameras once everyone returns. Where do you suggest we go first?” 

[angelguk]

so much happens in this it’s such a huge mess omg. the return of the angst plot line of jock!jk (aka pretty boy universe please check ml for the other parts). this time featuring: Angst (with a capital A), miscommunication that makes you want to scream, chayoung’s true nature, namjoon catching stray bullets (figuratively), and lucas being a gem. also jungkook is somewhat semi-violent in this one (in terms of thoughts and some actions but no one gets hurt) so please don’t read this if that makes you uncomfortable. in general just an angry heartbroken boy. also oc is finally doing something good. listen to mess it up by gracie abrams + if we were made of water by banks + i will by mitksi + save room for us by tinashe. roughly 4.2k

titled — old friends, new foes

The spring scavenger hunt is an enormous success, all thanks to your careful planning and Bina’s much needed support. While you excelled at organising, you heavily lacked in the social aspect, something Bina fulfilled with smart marketing and a bright personality that drew in a larger crowd than you thought would appear. It's partially expected–she was head of the Events Committee for a reason–but it felt a little strange to lean onto her instead of Jeongguk. He was the one who usually spearheaded that side of your event plans, more than anyone else, and while planning this one you felt his absence tenfold. Like a gigantic gaping hole excavating through your chest and leaving behind a lonely hollow.

That hollowness surges when you spot him meandering towards the third location at the university courtyard, his fingers tangled with Hyeri’s. You slowly turn away from them, heart aching with each thud against your ribs, hoping they haven’t seen you. Maybe Bina sees the fall on your features because she’s gently tapping your arm, leaning in with a graceful brush of her amber locks over her shoulder.  

“Are you okay?” Her voice is soft, feathering through the late afternoon breeze to reach your ear. 

You’re about to say it, the pained ‘I’m fine' that had become a part of your routine. But then you hear him, loud effervescent laugh hitting the air, the sound striking your false demeanour down. Your vision blurs before you could choke the word out and suddenly Bina’s arm is firmly around you, guiding your heavy feet far away from the presence evoking your pain. 

“I’m fine,” you finally manage to choke up, folding into yourself in the middle of a bench. She stares at you for a moment, before taking a deep breath and sharply clicking her tongue.

“You’re not.” Her eyes are gentle despite the harshness of her words. “I know this isn’t my place, but I do know why you stopped coming to committee meetings.” 

The scoff you let out is instinctive. The jarring sound is a stark contrast to the action of your hand hurriedly wiping away the stray tears staining your cheeks. Of course, you’d avoided committee meetings – why the hell would you go when the president was your ex?

“And,” Bina continues, pointedly ignoring your reaction. Her hand reaches out moving to intertwine your fingers. You focus on the image of her sharp stiletto shaped nails that glitter under the glow of the sun settling on your lap instead of the thumping of your heart as she speaks. “Judging from what I’ve seen, it hasn’t been easy for him either. I know you’re probably thinking that you were the only one who cared about him–about your relationship, but I’m pretty sure he did too. So it’s perfectly okay for you to feel like this, no matter how long it’s been.”

Two months and three weeks, you mentally add. A lifetime and a single blink simultaneously. 

“I didn’t need to know that,” you say, hoping to kill the hope fluttering in your heart. Bina squeezes your hand instead and gives it wings.

“You did. Also, Jeongguk’s kind of an asshole. Sorry if it’s too soon.”

It’s not, and you can’t help the tiny laugh that escapes from your throat. You glance up at her then, suddenly glad for the dazzling glossed coated smile that greets you.

“But,” she continues. “You’re doing the wrong thing too. I know you’re dating Lucas and it’s not fair to him when you’re still hung up on Jeongguk.”

“I know,” you admit. “And I’m going to fix that.”

She beams. “I hope you do. Don’t let him make you pick the wrong choices. You deserve better than that.”

Perhaps it was her words of reassurance that aided in getting you out of the house tonight. (Or it was Bina gingerly whacking your arm and insisting you needed to reward yourself for working hard). But a minuscule part of you is glad you heeded her advice. The music is louder than the words bouncing around your head, sound shoving your sorrow down as Chayoung hands you another drink. Everything is fast, bodies shifting wildly around you and the faint sound of a beer pong game capturing everyone’s attention. For a moment, you begin to forget. But then Lucas’s looming head materializes before you and guilt swarms your heart.

“Hey,” he offers, deep timbre sinking into your bones. You might just throw up.

You haven’t told him about Namjoon. You can’t bear to. But there’s something else more urgent that you need to say to him first.

Chayoung watches through narrow eyes when he leans forward to brush a light kiss on your cheek. He’s so sweet it makes your mouth turn sour. 

“Haven’t seen you around,” Lucas continues, slipping beside you. A steady hand settles at the base of your back. You almost jolt away. 

Chayoung’s face is hard, expression carved out of marble as she stares you down. You know she’s mad at you, rightfully so. Even Sieun hadn’t said anything for a few days after you’d told them about Namjoon. You were mad at yourself too. For what you did–for what you need to do to fix it.

“Been busy. Planning the scavenger hunt and all,” you say, gaze glued to a random lamp at the opposite side of the room. It’s easier than staring at Lucas, who’s still so warm and bright. Practically glowing like he’s got the Sun living in his chest. 

You hope you don’t leave him cloudy.

He weaves his hand into yours, a pleasant noise escaping past his lips. “I know. Great job, by the way. You should be proud.”

Chayoung slinks away at that, the glower on her features burning your blood. You haven’t told anybody yet because you don’t want their advice on this. But you do need to end things with Lucas. It wasn’t fair to him. Yet, it feels nearly impossible when you tear your eyes off the fading figure of your friend and glance up to find him staring at you with the softest smile.

All you do is hurt good people. 

It’s a terrible realisation but it forces you to croak out the words, a rip forming inside of you when that soft smile slips off his face at the sound of them.

“We need to talk.”

But the second they are out you feel something in the world click into place like you’re finally making the right steps toward the correct path even though you need to step on the hearts of others to get there. 

Lucas lets you lead him in silence, the weight of it sinking onto your shoulders when he closes the door behind him, the music giving way to the noise in your head. When he turns to face you, watching apprehensively as you perch yourself at the edge of the bed in the room, it all begins to feel like deja vu. Except you’re on the other side.

“So,” you start, eyes on the wall. The feeling of the mattress dipping as Lucas descends beside you pulls your gaze back to him, heartstrings thrumming when the moonlight leaking through the opened curtains pools into his eyes.

How could Jeongguk have done this?

“We need to end this,” you say, realising as the air leaves your lungs that he did it like this. Like he needed to breath. It feels like cutting an anchor off your ankle, head breaking through furious waters to finally find air.

Lucas pauses, blinking slow. You don’t fill the emptiness with more words, afraid you’ll pour salt into an open wound. He lets what you said ruminate, eyes shifting to the scene around you. A random room, bathed by the glow of the room, and two hearts opposing each other–one already poised to leave. One that was never really there.

“Why?” It’s said lowly. You know why. You owe him this admission, after dragging him around on a sinking ship. But the words refuse to part from your throat. 

“I’m not right for you,” you say instead, hoping he understands. By the flicker across his eyes, he doesn’t. “Like,” you try, your eyes dropping to where his heart lies. “You’ve got a lot of good in you and I don’t. We don’t match.”

Lucas cocks his head, staring at the ceiling. And this his gaze careens to you.

“You don’t think you’re a good person?”

“Well–” you splutter. But Lucas isn’t having it.

“You’re a lovely person, Y/N. With a lot of good in you too. You are kind of shitty for this though but every good person does shitty things.” It’s said factually like he needs you to understand this.

“I know that–”

“You don’t. You put yourself down too much. Why do you think Jeongguk loved you?”

Oh. That seizes that air from your chest, Lucas’s gaze slamming into your own with a surety that stings. 

“Why do you think I like you?” He adds. You don’t know what to do, nervous system spazzing at this information assault. “And I know why you want to end this. You could have said it. I understand, though. The two of you did fight together so well.” He gets up then, towering like a God dictating judgment. “I didn’t expect you to stop loving him immediately, you know.” He’s near the door now, not fleeing but parting a new path. There’s a weird smile on his lips, like the forging of his steps hurts as much yours does. It’s like it’s been hung there, not pulled from his heart like you’d grown used to seeing. 

“What did you expect?” You can’t help but ask.

He pauses, the door half-open. You could tell him to shut it, you could tell him to stay. 

You don’t want to.

“That maybe one day you would love me more than you loved him,” Lucas whispers. He sees the fall on your features, knows the answer on your lips instantly. “But it’s okay that you never could.”

And then he’s gone, honey blonde hair swallowed by the crowd even with his impossible height. He leaves the door ajar, the music seeping into the room. But this time your head is louder, surer. Because Lucas just let you know something you weren’t even aware of yourself. There was no room for anybody else except Jeongguk. And it truly wasn’t fair to offer him your heart when it was half a world away.

—

Half a world away is apparently glaring at the shrubs flanking the back garden. Jeongguk doesn’t know who’s house this is. He doesn’t care either because at the moment he’s considering burning it down. He’d just seen you amble into a room, Lucas trailing behind like a stupid dog and his heart clenching hard in his chest. It took two seconds after the door shut for him to shove Hyeri off his lap and mumble something about needing air.

(What he needed was you).

The coolness of the night ebbed at his boiling blood, but nothing could ease the ache. 

“You look like you need a drink,” Chayoung’s voice feels alien, creeping up his back. He turns to look at her, a polite comment on how he’d like to be left alone hanging on his lips. She interrupts it by handing him a cup, a tender smile gracing her lips. Jeongguk accepts it with a shrug, hoping the burn in his throat will be a distraction. It isn’t. But he forces another sip down as Chayoung slithers outside too, the room behind her glowing as if the building was on fire.

What store sells matches and lighter fluid in the middle of the night? And won’t ask incriminating questions? 

“Why the long face?” She asks, peering at him from the corner of her eye.

Jeongguk shrugs, the words in his head refusing to form into understandable sounds.

“Hyeri not cutting it?” Chayoung murmurs. His eyes snap to her, but she’s not staring at him, her gaze fixed on the dark sky. 

“What do you mean?” Jeongguk is baffled say the least. He thought his act with Hyeri was a little bit more solid proof. He liked her–somewhat. 

Chayoung turns slow, almost sinisterly, a glint in her brown eyes that unsettles him. “I just don’t think she’s in your league.”

The scoff that leaves Jeongguk’s throat burns. He hated that stupid idea of leagues. You should like a person for who they are, not where they stand in foolish social hierarchies. But Chayoung reads his response wrong, suddenly impossibly close, a stray finger trailing along his shoulder. Her nails are talons. He shudders, trying to hide it by leaning away. Chayoung just leans closer, alcohol tainted breath grazing his own. For a moment, Jeongguk considers fleeing back inside to come ask you to collect your drunk friend (a perfect excuse to finally say something to you after months of radio silence) but then he remembers that might potentially end with him walking into the room and finding you with Lucas’s tongue down your throat.

And that would suck. A lot.

But before he can think of another solution Chayoung’s fingernails are scrapping his neck, leaving his skin prickled.

“But then again, do you seem to always pick the wrong ones.” That bristles him and his eyes are suddenly hard and narrow.

“What do you mean by that?” He spits it out, a spark igniting in his chest when Chayoung shrugs. The smile on her face disgusts him.

“You know what I mean.” Her finger is sliding down his shirt and Jeongguk feels branded even through the material. “When you look like this, running around girls like that is honestly a little sad.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He’s hoping he’s hearing this all wrong. That she’s just drunk and acting stupid. But when her eyes lift to him he knows she means it. Every word of it.

“You could do better, Jeongguk. So much better.”

“Chayoung you need to shut the fuc–”

Her lips taste like vodka and cherry lip balm, which is sickening because that’s what you taste like–sans the vodka. Cherry lip balm was your brand. It always was, you’ve got like five of them scattered around your room and a couple more hidden in Jeongguk’s. He recoils instantly, acid climbing up his throat as his hands find something–anything to push away. What he finds are Chayoung’s shoulders and when he pushes he pushes hard. They break apart and the floor beneath Jeongguk cracks wide open, his head spinning violently.

“What the fuck is your problem?” He doesn’t know what else to say, the circuits in his brain frying. Chayoung’s tongue skips over her lips, now wet and a little plush from the force she used to slam her mouth into his. 

“Showing you that you can do better.”

He blinks, taken a large step back when Chayoung moves forward, a little sway in her feet. 

“You’re drunk and acting crazy. I think I should call Y/N to com–”

“Oh fuck Y/N. Such a whiny bitch. Do you really think she deserves you? After all the shit she’s put you through?” Chayoung’s eyes feel like knives, sharp and striking deep with every word. 

“Aren't you her friend? What the hell is wrong with you?” Jeongguk needs this to de-escalate. Chayoung wants to throw gasoline on an open flame instead.

“No–what’s wrong with you, Jeongguk? Moping around for a girl who never realised what she had when it was right in front of her? C’mon now.”

“You seriously need to shut the fuck up. You’re not gonna talk about her like that in front of me.”

“Why not? Cause you still love her? Even when she’s fucking Lucas?”

That stings, his heart bursting in his chest because Jeongguk didn’t know you were sleeping with him. He thought it would just be kisses or something. Not that–not Lucas touching you like he used to. But then Hyeri’s face flashes in before his eyes and he wilts. He can’t blame you for anything, not when he’s been doing the same horrible shit to you. And that makes him pause, the sudden realisation that he’s been hurting you smashing into his head. He didn’t want to hurt you–never. Not even if you were hurting him. He just needed a distraction, something to ease you off his mind. And maybe you did too, but all left you both with was gaping wounds that would never heal. And with other people hurt too.

God, this was a mess. And it dawns on Jeongguk that’s he’s made the worst mistake he’s ever made in his life. 

“You should hate her,” Chayoung continues, venomous. 

“I don’t,” Jeongguk returns, voice levelled. All he hates right now is himself. And Lucas (which is fair). Chayoung blanches, shaken by his firmness. “I really don’t, in fact, I need to talk to her. Right now.”

He moves fast, foot already past the threshold when Chayoung speaks again, her words aimed with intent to kill.

“She kissed Namjoon.”

He feels the nerves in his legs still instantly, before they nearly give way entirely, his grip on the door frame the only thing holding him up as his heart tears out of his chest. 

“I thought you should know,” Chayoung adds. And he hears it then, that vile smugness in her voice. She’s lying. She has to be. You wouldn’t do that to him. And he says that, storming back to Chayoung with his chest ripped open, his body thrumming with barely concealed rage. And fear. Jeongguk feels so scared right now because if you did that means everything he felt–everything he feared–could be true.

“She did.” Chayoung is immovable, standing tall and staring him down. “I’m not lying to you. Go ask Namjoon if you don’t believe me.”

Which, Jeongguk realises as his eyes fall shut that is going to absolutely do. And possibly break a nose in the process. He turns, trying to blink away the blurriness in his eyes, before Chayoung stops him with a single sentence again, this one said a little softer.

“Jeongguk,” she starts, eyeing him down, her brown eyes aflame under the moonlight. “I mean it when I say she doesn’t deserve you.”

—

Someone is attempting to break down Namjoon’s door. Which is bizarre considering it’s almost three in the morning. He has to drag himself out of the comfort of his warm sheets to figure out which maniac is attempting to smash through solid wood with only their fists because it seems like they’re almost succeeding. 

The maniac in question is Jeon Jeongguk, standing rigid when Namjoon swings the door open, moonlight bleeding over his features. He’s mad, staring at Namjoon like he wished his head was rolling on the ground instead of stationed square on his shoulders. But there’s something else there, doe eyes glossy.

“Jeongguk? What the hell are–”

“You kissed her.”

Everything stills, the two men fixated on each other. Jeongguk is so still he could have been mistaken for a statue. Almost as if he was waiting for the words that would break this moment, ease the tension seizing his muscles, tell him what he wants to hear. Namjoon can’t do any of that. Instead, he sighs, a muted, “Oh”, floating from his lips.

Jeongguk snaps the second he realises it’s true.

“Oh? You kissed her and all you have to say is oh?” Hands are digging into the soft cotton of his nightshirt and Namjoon’s feet are no longer on the ground. He’s apparently levitating, lifted solely by this hurt angry boy invading his apartment. His back hits the nearest wall with a thud that vibrates through his bones. When the hell did Jeongguk get this strong?”

“Whoa–relax,” Namjoon wheezes, his strong fingers guiding Jeongguk off him. But heartbreak tends to be enough fuel because Jeongguk pushes back with an ease that unnerves him. “Jeongguk, you seriously need to relax. Let go of me and we can talk about this.”

“Why did you do it?” That is what he gets in return. Jeongguk’s voice wavers, coloured a violent red in the velvet of the night.

“I didn’t do anything,” Namjoon returns, the words delivered gingerly.

“No–no you did. You kissed her. You–”

“She kissed me, Jeongguk. And I can seriously explain all of it if you just relaxed and we talked about it–”

“No, she didn’t. She wouldn’t do that to me–she wouldn’t.” And Oh God No, Namjoon thinks he just heard the sound of a heart breaking. It sounds like a weird mangled bird collapsing from the sky and its wing hitting the ground with a funny wet smash, fragile bones snapping like twigs. 

Jeongguk’s fingers peel from his shirt and bury themselves in his hair, yanking at the cropped strands as his face twists. 

This is far too much emotion for a single person to deal with in the middle of the bloody night.

“Hey–hey, calm down. It was a mistake, I promise you. She was just feeling a little all over the place and made a bad choice–”

“No–that’s the fucking point! She made a choice. She chose you.” Jeongguk’s staring at him in a way that hurts, like he’s attempting to transfer all the pain that’s writhing through his body into Namjoon’s from sight alone.

“What? What are you talking about?” 

Jeongguk is frantic, almost like he’s trying to stop himself from pouring out onto the floor. A flood barely contained. “She chose you first. I was there–I was always there. But then you waltzed in and she saw something in you that she didn’t find in me and she chose you.”

Namjoon cocks his head, staring hard at Jeongguk’s round wide eyes, slowly coming to realisations that he was surrounded by idiotic people.

“I still have no idea what you are talking about, but I have to ask, don’t you remember a single thing I told you the last time we spoke about Y/N? You’re the reason we broke up.” That halts him and Namjoon takes that as a moment to press onward, somewhat tired of being dragged into this awkward mess. “And I’ll say this in the nicest way possible but you’re an idiot if you think Y/N wouldn’t pick you over me any day–over anyone really. I could be drowning and you could have a scrapped knee and she’d check on you first. We broke up because I realised I was just a placeholder until she felt brave enough to tell you she liked you. You were rather intimidating for her to approach. Or have you forgotten your track record of girls? It wasn’t easy for her–especially when she was risking losing her best friend.”

The silence that follows aches, Jeongguk’s eyes flashing like he never considered that in the first place. 

“But why the other guys then? Why not just tell me after you?” 

Namjoon’s going to bang his head into the wall. “You’re her best friend–what about that are you not getting? What if you didn’t like her back and it ruined the most important relationship in her life?”

“But I did–I always liked her.”

“No,” Namjoon nearly groans out loud. “You didn’t. If you liked her you wouldn’t have fucked Chaerin in the back of your car and then gone to report it to Y/N with a grin on your face.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Namjoon returns. “Oh. That’s the exact day we broke up too. Such a stupid fight because she was crying and that’s when I put two and two together and realised I was never going to take precedence over you.” 

“I didn’t know I was hurting her,” Jeongguk murmurs, almost distraught. 

A strangled noise erupts from Namjoon’s throat. “You’ve hurt her a lot more than you’ll realise.” But the second he says that and Jeongguk’s face twists into something unrecognisable he wants to take them back.

“She’s too good for me. Maybe we are better off apart.”

“No, no. You’re so wrong actually. This break-up thing has been miserable to watch and I’m not even in the centre of it. I’ve just caught a bunch of stray bullets.”

“You’re not getting me,” Jeongguk’s eyes swing to him. “She came to you at the end of it all. Maybe we are better with other people. Maybe you’re better for her.”

“She came to me because she missed you. She just needed someone to lean on during your absence. I wouldn’t have to do that if you were there. You know, you should just talk about this with Y/N.”

“I can’t, she’s happy with Lucas. I think.”

Namjoon wants to bang both your heads together so bad. Maybe finally the fact that you love each other would get through your thick skulls then. 

“She doesn’t,” he says, instead. “And I know that for a fact. You should really go talk to her. Figure this whole mess out. And also finally get out of my apartment.” Jeongguk’s gaze withers. Namjoon shrugs in return. “It’s the middle of the night and I have a meeting in the morning. I really need to sleep.”

“Oh, fuck, I’m sorry.” He’s so meek like this, nursing a shattered heart and a confused head. It’s slightly jarring to the image he usually presents, so self-assured and unfazed by whatever gets thrown at him. Never exposed like this, every emotion he holds inside displayed across his face. 

“It’s alright. Just think about what I said and talk to her. Honestly. Not skirting over shit like the two of you tend to do. Okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, trailing towards the open door. Namjoon had registered a breeze billowing in, but he’d completely missed the fact that the door of his apartment was swung wide open. Jeongguk abruptly stops just as Namjoon’s sense of bearing returns, turning to face him with his face pulled down by shame. “I’m really sorry. For this whole thing. I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that I was just–”

“I get it. You love her and it feels like she’s slipping from your fingers. Just don’t do that shit again and stop trying to push her away. I’ll say it again–you were always her first choice.” He sees it then, a slight flutter through Jeongguk’s chest. A broken bird mending. 

“Yeah,” Jeongguk breathes. “Thanks.”

Namjoon sighs, offering a tight smile and shutting the door firmly when Jeongguk finally drifts out. He needs a drink before he hits the sheets again. A strong one.

[ack3rlady]

Good evening

So here is one of the plots I always imagine you being erwin's little sister and levi is his best friend so he loves you and levi being levi would show through actions like buying the best gifts because he listens and cares also picking you up from places and agrees with erwin that you aren't allowed to have a boyfriend

Is that kinda out of character 🤔

Dinaaaaaaa! Sorry it took me forever to write this! It started off as something and turned into something else and then i had to sit and clean it up. Hope you like it bby!!

Pocket Watch

Summary: You and Levi go from despising each other to being two fools in unrequited love. Hange comes up with a disastrous plan to bring you both together that backfires. Big brother Erwin comes to the rescue :)

Notes: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff with a dash of angst, Hange being Hange.

WC: ~3k

Master List

You and Levi had a turbulent start. From the moment you laid eyes on him, you absolutely loathed the man so much that even his presence made you see red. He was rude, disrespectful and above all, tried to murder your brother. From the looks of it, he disliked you too, given you were Erwin’s sister, and also because you charged towards him with your blade right after, only to be restrained by Erwin himself.

Unfortunately, with the loss of Flagon and his squad, Shadis transferred Levi over to yours after that fateful expedition. And for the first time in your life, you hated your job. The thought of waking up in the morning and seeing his grouchy face, listening to his flat, uninterested voice irked you. You lost the will to get out of bed. Hange had to physically drag your body to the training grounds every day.

To say that you and Levi didn’t get along, would be an understatement. It would take mere seconds of being around each other for a new argument to break out. And because you were his new Squad Leader, you were forced to be around him almost all the time. The day mainly consisted of excessive eye-rolling, taunts, sarcastic retorts which would soon turn into a quarrel and then a massive brawl until Miche or Hange stepped in to pry you off each other's throats.

The new nicknames you coined for each other had traveled throughout the regiment. He referred to you as Shithead, and you called him Shitface.

For him, your interactions had turned into a strange form of entertainment. In no time, he had figured out which button of yours to push to get the reaction he wished to see. Meal time, which used to be the only two hours you could spend without him, was also brutally snatched away from you when Erwin insisted that Levi should sit at your table from now on.

“I have to look at Shitface’s shitty face all day. Did you absolutely have to invite him over to eat with us?”, you asked Erwin with your eyes boring holes into Levi, face contorted as if you just bit into a lemon.

The new commander suppressed a smirk; Hange and Miche were not polite enough to do the same.

“As if I want to be around your shitty head for any longer than I need to.”, he quipped nonchalantly, taking a sip of steaming tea out of his cup.

The back-and-forth, constant bickering and impromptu sparring continued until both you and Levi were promoted to captain’s position, a few months after Erwin became commander. Now that you both had your own squads to manage, you didn’t see him as much anymore.

You refused to admit it to yourself, but you missed him; missed being around him even if it only led to another one of your infamous fights. Your eyes would search for that familiar midnight head everywhere you went; relentlessly darting from one face to another until they landed on a silver pair looking right back at them.

Levi was in a similar dilemma. His life seemed a bit too calm, too quiet. No one glowered at him when he began training in the morning. No one screamed bloody murder in his ears every few hours. He actually missed the sound of your voice, even though he considered it the shrillest cacophony until a few days ago.

He found himself looking for reasons to be near you, scheduling his squad’s training sessions around yours. Awkward glances would be exchanged every few minutes, with both of you clearly realizing the difference in the way you looked at each other ever since your new roles drew you apart. They weren't glares of annoyance anymore. There was an unknown warmth present in your gazes. What was this foreign feeling?

“Miss me, Shitface?”, you asked upon bumping into him for the fifth time since morning.

“You wish, Shithead.”, he responded, lips upturned into a smirk.

Lately, there was a new found playfulness in your interactions. The words you exchanged pretty much remained the same, sans the sharp edge they had before.

.

.

It was late in the evening. It was also the first anniversary of that catastrophic expedition which stole Isabel, Furlan, and your childhood friend Victoria from this world. You snuck a bottle of whiskey from Erwin’s cherished collection of spirits and fled to the roof, a place you generally retreated to when feeling low.

You were greeted by a lone figure who was already sitting in your spot. But today, Levi’s presence didn’t bother you. On the contrary, you felt relieved to see him. When did the sight of him go from being bothersome to soothing? You took a seat by his side, popped open the bottle, drank to all the loved ones you had lost, and shared stories about them.

Well, you did. He only listened.

“If only I got there in time. I could’ve saved her.”, you sighed, thinking about Victoria.

Levi felt a pang in his heart, because that was exactly how he felt about Isabel and Furlan. If only he had never left. If only he made it back before it was too late.

If only.

You were not much different from him. He regretted treating you harshly without ever understanding your story. He felt terrible about how he never bothered to find out you too were silently suffering from the same pain as him, that there was a tragic reason why you even had a vacant spot on your squad for him to fill.

He watched your face glow under the moon light, your lips spread into a gorgeous yet melancholy smile as you fondly remembered the departed. His breath hitched when he felt a delicate weight on his shoulder, body tensing because this was the first time someone was this close to him.

He slowly looked down at your head leaning on his shoulder, teary eyes looking up at the moon. This moment, this image would forever be etched into his memory. Because the reason why he perpetually craved your presence around him suddenly became clear. Because this was the exact moment, he realized that he was in love.

After you were finished talking to your heart’s content, Levi walked you to your room and stayed long enough to make sure that you fell asleep. That night, he fought hard against this new feeling bubbling up in his heart as he watched your angelic face while you slept – A need to be with you, an urge to tell you how he felt, a longing to feel your skin underneath his fingers, to make you the first and the last face he would see every day.

He valiantly fought against the flutter in his heart, conquered it, and locked it away in the remotest corner of his mind.

.

.

You could see the faint light of the rising sun from behind your closed eyelids. You needed to be on the move in a few minutes and start preparing for the day. But instead, you chose to stay in bed, and replay the events from last night that brought a smile to your face – the way Levi’s pale skin shone in the silver luminescence of the moon, the way his softened eyes stayed pinned on yours when you spoke, how the strands of his hair swayed with the cool breeze, how you suppressed the urge to run your fingers through them, how you wanted time to stop just so that you could steal a few more moments with him.

You begrudgingly opened your eyes and removed yourself from the sweet flashback, only to find a delicate pocket watch on your nightstand with a note neatly tucked underneath it. It read -

Time took away my old friends, but also gave me a new one.

- L

.

.

Six months had passed since that day. Six months since you were both confronted by your feelings, and also six months since they remained unrequited. He had accepted that this was how it was meant to be, because, one – The world was a shitty place that could rip you away from him at any moment, two – his relationship with Erwin was far too important to jeopardize. Levi decided it was best to remain silent.

You, on the other hand, wanted to live every day like it was your last; and try to experience as many things in life as you could before death knocked at the door. But you knew of Levi’s outlook on relationships, and decided to respect his beliefs, without forcing your ideas on him.

So, you would both hold on to the little things, like having tea and meals in each other company, training together, watching the moon from that same spot on the roof and mainly, searching for each other among the multitude of soldiers, just to exchange silent smiles of assurance before each expedition as if it would be the last time you would be seeing one another.

This didn’t go unnoticed since another pair of eyes, four eyes were hanging on to every single one of these acts.

Hange was an intelligent person, not letting one thing escape their sight. When they were not immersed in analyzing titans, they were studying humans, and their vision was made even stronger by the thick pair of glasses adorning their face.

That is why they did not miss the subtle glances or a single smile exchanged between you and Levi, or even how the man who hated people with a burning passion would willingly enter crowded markets just to find you the perfect present.

It first struck them when he bought a stunning painting of the sun setting beyond the mountains. But instead of finding it hung on the wall of his office, they found it sitting on your desk the next morning. Then it was an intricate tea set that he purchased, which was now located on your table. And finally, the multiple books he painstakingly selected from a quaint shop in the bylanes of Trost that were all lined up on the bookshelf in your quarters. 

And they were not the only one noticing these patterns.

The silent but dazzling sparks flying between his sister and his right-hand-man caught Erwin’s eye too. His prominent brow would rise in curiosity when Levi would expressly insist on positioning you in the safer zone of the formation during expeditions. He saw how the captain would turn to you for your opinion on important matters, and you’d respond with a quiet nod. He also observed how Levi was not rude to you anymore, a complete paradox of his behavior from just six months ago, when you used to be the bane of his existence.

His suspicions were confirmed when he casually asked Hange about it. They squealed in excitement when Erwin’s account matched theirs. Miche agreed too, adding his own two cents to the story.

Erwin’s mind was racing, the usual calm in his blue eyes looking stormy. His brotherly instincts were tingling. He had never approved of any man you introduced him to in the past, always finding some or the other reason why they were not good enough for you.

But, upon giving it further thought, he couldn’t fault Levi. He knew that if there was anyone who could protect you better than Erwin himself, it was him.

The only area of concern was his quirky behavior. But he personally witnessed how you could hold your own before the man on numerous occasions. He had noticed how you had begun to smile more often when he was around, and how you remained calm and made better decisions in the face of danger outside the walls ever since you became close with Levi.

Your happiness and safety were all that mattered to your brother.

So, he gave Hange his blessings to carry out their ‘diabolical plan’ to bring you and him together. Together, they recruited Miche as the perfect decoy. According to Hange, the plan was simple. Miche would sweet-talk with you, in turn making Levi jealous. The jealousy would eventually make him flee the comfort of his shell and confess his feelings to you. Simple, right? Unfortunately, it wasn't.

.

.

“Hey gorgeous! You look wonderful today.”, Miche appeared out of thin air while you and Levi were sipping on tea and reading the newspaper on a bench under a tree in silence.

Levi’s eyes slightly widened upon seeing the tall man’s hand snake around your shoulder.

“Thanks, Miche.”, you replied politely, albeit a little confused, but not swatting him away.

Miche had been your friend ever since you were a fresh-faced cadet. And he was known for getting close to people to get a good sniff. So, his proximity wasn't a surprise, although the sudden compliments were. But you didn’t dwell over them, assuming that the beautiful morning had him in a pleasant mood.

Levi knew that you were strong enough to tackle Miche to the ground if his touch was unwelcome. The fact that you didn’t refute his advance, meant that you didn’t mind.

Maybe he wasn’t as special to you as he thought. Maybe the unspoken bond between you and him was all in his head. His thoughts immediately began to spiral, and he abruptly stood up and left without a word, leaving a baffled you, and a triumphantly grinning Miche behind.

What Hange, Erwin and Miche thought was the successful execution of their plan, was playing out to be the exact opposite, much to their ignorance.

This happened a few more times over the next week – during training, lunch, meetings – wherever you went, Miche followed. Levi felt his heart skip a beat every time he saw you smile in the other man’s presence. His jaw clenched whenever Miche cooed in your ears, his face just inches away from yours.

Levi was obviously jealous. But instead of stepping in and owning up to his feelings, he began to distance himself from you, only seeing you during work meetings and barely acknowledging your presence even then. He would turn in his tracks every time you were about to cross paths. The serene tea breaks in his company came to an abrupt halt when you would find his office locked and empty when you visited at your designated time.

You were beginning to feel hurt by this newly cold Levi, the equivalent of how he used to be before that night on the roof. Maybe him reciprocating your feelings was all in your head. You felt lonely after suddenly having lost your best friend and support system without even knowing why.

Erwin began to notice changes in your demeanor once more. The beaming and chirpy little sister that he was used to, was showing signs of suffering. But you would never admit to it when he asked; saying that you didn’t want to add to his already full plate.

He found you one night, sitting by the window of your dark quarters in tears. He slapped his palm over his forehead upon finding out that the sole reason behind your heartache was the debacle of a plan that the three had come up with. He came clean and encouraged you to go talk to Levi, revealing that the whole plan was only intended to bring you both closer.

You ran through the hallways, first to his quarters, just to find the doors locked again. Then you headed to the mess hall, hoping to catch him sipping on his late-night tea. But the vast room was deserted except for the scouts scrubbing it clean. So, you nervously headed to the place you were sure to see him. And that’s exactly where you found him.

There he was, perched at the exact spot on the rooftop, the same place where you had spent numerous nights together over the last whole year.

Levi perked up upon hearing your approaching footsteps. He didn’t even need to turn around to know it was you.

“You don’t talk to me anymore.”, you said, taking a seat at your old spot beside him.

“Well, you found someone else to talk to.”

“So, you just decided to leave?”

“I figured you had Miche and didn’t need me anymore.”

You turned to him in disbelief. The unchanged expression on his face was a sign that he did indeed believe what he just said.

“Do you just think you're that easily replaceable in my life? That someone can just walk in and take your position?”, you asked

“You did just let him do it, didn’t you?”

“Ugh!”, you harshly pushed his shoulders with both your hands. “I did not! Stop saying that you Shitface!”

“Tch! What's your problem, Shithead?”, he scolded, tightly clenching the collar of your jacket in his fist.

“My problem is that I’m in love with you and you’re too stupid to see it.”

His eyes and lips shaped into three round Os. “Huh?”, he huffed breathlessly.

“I love you. Since that evening that we spent right here one year ago, and I’ve been in love with you ever since . Miche was acting on some stupid directions that Hange gave him. There’s nothing between him and I, Levi. It’s you. It’s always been you.”, you said, quoting Erwin’s words and revealing Hange’s plan to him.

With that same fist around your jacket, Levi pulled you close; crashing your body into his, gently pressing his lips upon yours. Your heart began to pound upon his touch that you had been yearning for since over a year. His lips were warm, and soft, and he gingerly nibbled on yours, making you smile into the kiss. You felt his cool fingers raking through your hair accompanied by gentle hums of bliss. He finally broke away, allowing you both to catch your breath, resting his forehead on yours.

“I love you, Shithead.”, he whispered. “But, I’m going to kill those two giants and four eyes tomorrow.”

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Dee and Sam Meet Jake and Nat

For @whumptober2021 day 18: Doctor’s Visit

CW: Recovering pet whumpees, brief unintentional medical whump, conditioned responses

Alternate universe where @boxboysandotherwhump’s Dee and Sam find somewhere new for safety... it’s a (slight delayed) birthday gift for Theo!

-

“We don’t have room for them both,” Jake mutters, worrying at a hangnail on his thumb that he hasn’t yet gotten up the courage to pull, and has already clipped as close to the cuticle as he safely can. “Where are we going to put them? The fucking porch?”

“We’ll figure that out,” Nat says, reassuring, arms crossed in front of her. Outside, the night sky is clouded and a formless, featureless blue-gray, lit at its edges by the soft orange glow of the city. The two of them sit in uncomfortable hard-backed plastic chairs in the waiting area of a doctor’s office not far outside of downtown.

Jake leans over and picks up a magazine, flipping through it. His eyes scan through images and words without really seeing or reading them. Celebrity gossip, bullshit about food trends, bullshit about exercise, bullshit about parenting, bullshit about-

His eyes catch on a full-page WRU ad. It’s a photo shot in a slightly filmy, blurred way, as if to echo old-style vintage TV shows. A teenage girl in a school uniform sits at a table, chin on one hand, looking with slightly rolled eyes to the side. Next to her sits a man in his twenties, a collar visible above the crewneck of his sweater, pointing out something on the paper in front of them with a cheerfully helpful expression. 

Behind them, a woman clearly meant to be the girl’s mother looks over her shoulder with a warm smile.

Give your children every academic advantage - and a lifelong best friend - with a Box Boy all their own. Find a Platonic Companion to add to your family with WRU. 

Bile rises in Jake’s throat. He looks at the mellow, pleasant smile on the man’s face and wonders what torture it took to create it, how long the man spent locked in the cells, how frightened he was before they gave him the tiniest hint of mercy. 

He knows there’s a law that they can’t use actors to portray the Box Boys in advertising, it has to be the real thing. So what did they do to get this guy camera-ready? What will they do if he ever fails to nail the shot?

He closes the magazine with a slap and tosses it violently back on the side table.

Nat glances over at him, eyebrows raised. “You okay, Jake?”

“Yeah,” he mutters, glowering towards the darkness visible through the slats in the blinds at the front window. He sees headlights cutting through, briefly blinding him, and blinks, rubbing at his eyes.

“Showtime,” Nat murmurs. “Remember, they’re a bonded pair.”

“Yeah, got it.” Jake pushes himself to his feet. Shadowy figures outside exit the car, one person from the driver’s seat and two getting out of the back. Jake squints, only able to see silhouettes thanks to the still-shining headlights. “Jesus, how fucking tall is that guy?”

The door opens, Dr. Masood coming in, gesturing the two others behind him. 

The first one through is short - or maybe he isn’t, but he seems short compared to the hulking goddamn giant who walks behind him. The guy has to duck not to knock his head on the doorframe, and even Jake doesn’t have to do that.

Jake’s eyes narrow at the sight of the immense, muscular man, scarred heavily down one side of his face right up to his auburn hair, and down his neck, disappearing into the long-sleeved shirt he’s wearing. There are scars on his hand, too, making Jake think there’s a lot hidden under that shirt. He looks… weirdly familiar. Like Jake has seen him somewhere before.

The man sees him and his eyes narrow right back, putting a hand on the smaller one’s shoulder. “Sam,” He says, in a low voice. “Stay close.”

Dr. Masood closes the door quickly and locks it, glancing around. “Hello, Natalie. Hello, Jake. Sorry I’m late - Anderson had to evade a potential WRU tail to drop them off with me. We’re here safe and sound, though.” He moves over to the door back into the hallway where the exam rooms lie. “I’ll need to perform basic physical examinations. Who would like to go first?”

Sam - the smaller one is Sam, Jake tells himself, memorizing the name quickly - presses his back against the big guy. He’s dressed in a loose t-shirt that’s more tunic than top, going down nearly to his mid-thighs with leggings underneath, sleeves pushed up to bare his hands as he crosses his arms in front of himself. He’s gorgeous, shorter maybe than Chris is. His eyes, though, have a flinty spark that Chris’s eyes don’t. “Dee and me, we don’t separate.”

Dr. Masood considers, and nods, slowly. “Fair enough. You may both come back with me, then.”

Jake, who has seen newly-freed Box Boys lose their absolute shit on well-meaning physicians after nearly all medical care has involved torture in their memory, moves as well. “I’ll sit in on it.” When he catches the poisonous little glare from Sam, he gives them a patient smile. “No worries, I don’t look, just stay outside the room to make sure you’re safe.”

“Oh, sure, you say that, but-”

“It’s standard,” Dr. Masood says in his own warm voice with its lilting, slight accent. “I have worked with Jake for many years, I promise he means what he says.” 

Sam and Dee share a look, and then they must decide this is as good as they’ll get, because they nod - with a little huff from Sam - and follow Dr. Masood and Jake back to the door labeled PATIENT ENTRANCE.

“I’ll keep watch,” Nat calls. 

As Jake’s back turns, she picks up the magazine he discarded and starts flipping through it, curious about what angered Jake so badly.

Dee ducks again to avoid the doorframe, even more this time, and Jake clears his throat mildly. Part of him wants to remark on it, the rest of him knows how annoying it is to have people constantly point out you’re tall. After all, he gets it all the time.

He can’t shake how weirdly familiar this guy looks, even though he’s sure he’s never seen him before. 

“We’ll just take this exam room,” Dr. Masood says mildly, opening a door and flipping on the lights. “Sam, if you’ll step inside. Dee, is it?”

The giant nods. 

“Dee, if you’ll stay out here with Jake. We’re going to do a basic physical and I would prefer to give the patient some privacy.”

“Oh, we don’t get privacy,” Sam says, casually, his arms swinging a little at his sides as he moves into the room. He’s already pulling his shirt off, not even waiting to be told. Jake catches sight of scars, long, thin, and surgical, along his ribcage and chest. 

“Nonetheless, I would like you to get a sense for it,” Dr. Masood says kindly. “To your underwear, please, and here is a gown to wear-”

“Don’t want to bother with the gown, and underwear just slows me down. Look at whatever you want.” Sam shrugs, and Jake quickly turns away, looking across the hallway at a framed painting of a flowerpot. He knows the challenge when he hears it - are you trustworthy, will you look, will you touch, will you hurt us, will you will you will you.

Dee looks over at him, leaning against the wall, and Jake realizes the big man is more or less echoing his movements. When he crosses his arms, so does Dee. “Sam is my bonded,” He says, in a low voice, barely audible.

Maybe he’s shy. 

“So they said in the phone call,” Jake replies, pitching his voice low and kind to suit the big man’s demeanor. “I know you don’t know our safehouse, but I should tell you, we don’t separate bondeds, if you were worried about that. You stay together.”

Dee swallows, hard, and looks at him more closely now. He’s still got a collar buckled around his throat, tight enough that he’s got a bit of red rubbed raw along the edges. “Good. Um. Good. They, the last place, they said no room for a bonded pair, that we’re… dangerous.”

“Well, for starters, they shouldn’t say shit like that to you.” Jake snorts, irritated, raking a hand back through his hair. “Even if they separate bonds for sleep, they shouldn’t tell you it’s because of you being dangerous. That’s not really why.”

Inside the exam room, they overhear Sam say, “No, it’s fine, I don’t even have a gag reflex,” and Jake is reminded with a bittersweet pang of Kauri.

Who is, as usual, God knows where doing God knows what with some asshole who doesn’t deserve him.

“Well, why then?” Dee asks, curiosity overcoming his reticence to speak. “Why do they separate us? I-... I need my bonded. Sam takes care of me.”

Jake had expected it to be the other way around. His surprise must show on his face, because Dee actually smiles - very slightly - and then looks away. He’s hiding the scarred side of his face, Jake realizes, his clouded eye. 

“Usually the big guys are there to take care of the smaller ones,” He offers, and finds himself relaxing more and more in Dee’s company. “I don’t think I’ve seen it the other way around before.”

“Oh.” Dee goes quiet, for a second, and he starts fiddling with his fingernails, looking down at them. Within, they hear Sam critiquing at length the quality of Dr. Masood’s instruments. Finally, Dee asks, hesitantly, “Why do they separate us? You didn’t answer.”

“Oh, it’s. So, um, WRU is the one who puts bonded pairs together. So the idea is… to fully recover, they have to learn how to be apart. Some safehouses do it, like, what they call the ‘tough love’ way. Separated right off the bat.” Jake shrugs. “Nat doesn’t believe in that shit, though, because… we have kind of a different philosophy.”

Dee just looks at him, eyebrows raised slightly in curiosity that he doesn’t put words to. 

“If you’re bonded,” Jake says, glancing down the hall towards the door to the waiting room where Nat watches for the possibility of a raid right here and now, “you’re bonded. It’s a real feeling, right?”

Dee doesn’t respond at first, then realizes Jake must be waiting for him to at least react. He clears his throat and says, “Uh, yeah. Yeah, it is.” He smiles, just a little, his head still tipped so Jake doesn’t see the scarred side.

“Right. Just because they created it artificially doesn’t mean it isn’t a real attachment, a real bond, even real love, depending on the people involved. Separating can be… some people handle it, some don’t. But the slow approach works better, Nat says, and she’d know, she’s been at this for like twenty years. So, you stay with us, you stay together. The work on learning how to live on your own happens together. We can kind of adjust towards independence as we go, right?”

“Um. Right. But… what if we don’t want to be independent?”

“Well, that’s up to you. We want you to live happy lives, free of WRU, as the real people you really are.”

“Huh.” Dee looks away, wincing as if his head is beginning to hurt, reaching up to rub at his temple. 

Jake looks over at him, and once again, he can’t quite… shake the sense that Dee looks like someone he’s definitely seen before. Maybe at a group meeting, or in a video or something? Maybe…

“Hey.” He clears his throat. “Uh, can I ask, do you-... remember anything from before you became-”

“At least warm the fucking speculum up first, asshole!” Sam shouts from inside, and Dee whips around with sudden speed at the sound of his voice raised high from surprise and discomfort. Jake watches him nearly smack his head on the door before he ducks at the last second, glowering at the doctor, who is already backing away.

“My apologies, I wasn’t aware that it hadn’t been left to warm as I requested, the machine was off-”

“Yeah, well it was still cold. It’s okay, Dee, I’m okay, but listen if I wanted to freeze from the inside out I would buy some ice cubes!”

“Again, my apologies-”

The moment is gone. Jake frowns, staying right where he is, looking at the flower in the frame across the hall and wondering what lives these two had lived before they came here. 

-

@finder-of-rings @astrobly @burtlederp - who have asked to be tagged in all things

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Looking for a Place to Happen 2

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), age gap, general stupidity, some violence and threats

This is dark!biker!Sam Wilson x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s lots happening in Birch and you find it all too amusing.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, Little Bones, and Fully Completely

Note: Here’s chapter two. Think I’ll probably slow down writing. Appreciate y’all.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 2: I follow every little whiff

💀💀💀

You gave yourself a day off that week. Rather, the desolation of Birch allowed you an excuse to get away from your desk. An internet outage across the town had you up and wandering the main road just after noon. Your grandmother refused to join you so she was left to her true crime novel and the weekday droning of talk show hosts.

After a peek in the book shop where you picked out some used thrillers for your nan and a guilty splurge on one of Babs' pies to add to the surprise, you stopped by the diner and had some soup to warm up from the unrelenting cold. You played around on your phone as you blindly slurped from your spoon. With no available connection, you swapped candies to achieve a score high enough to get to the next round.

After another loss, you put your screen down and added some pepper to the tomato soup. You leaned your chin in your hand and peered across the road. The Asp was just diagonal from The Chipped Saucer and from your seat by the window you could see the comings and goings of the dingy bar.

You chuckled to yourself as you remembered the hundreds of comments on your video. You weren't entirely surprised that the internet cheered at the sight of a woman beating up a man in broad daylight, you'd seen much worse on the web. But many were curious and asked about how it started and about the small town alluded to in the caption.

You picked up your phone and flipped open the camera. You pointed it through the glass as one of the many bikers strutted out of the bar and down the street. You knew him, like most in town, he was the leader's right hand man. Steve Rogers. He had an odd gait, rigid with long strides, and you remember Kelly used to make fun of him when you walked home from school. That felt like forever ago.

You ended the video and dropped your phone again. You'd send it to Kelly when the outage was over. It would be a good laugh. Plus, you hadn't heard from her much since she moved to the city.

You finished your soup and paid. You went out into the street and cut around to the backstreets. You made your way back to your nans and found Pippin scratching at the front door. You stopped and scooped him up before you let yourself in.

"Don't like the snow, do ya?" You set him down and he whipped his tail before skittering off, "hey nan, I got you some stuff."

"You spend too much," she grumbled as you hung your coat and grabbed her treats.

"Only on you," you sang as you entered the front room, "sugarless blueberry pie, your fave, and some books about murder and all that freaky stuff you love."

"Hmm," she watched you put the pie and books down on the coffee table, "suppose the pie will go good with tea."

"Ah, and I suppose I'll be making that tea?" You returned.

"My arthritis…" she pouted but her grin came through.

"Yeah, yeah," you snickered as you went to the kitchen to put on the kettle, "we going black today or something lighter?"

"Put on some of the pekoe," she called back, "make a whole pot."

"Will do, ma'am," you trilled and basked in her annoyed mutter.

💀

When the internet came back, you sent of an email to inform the agency of the interruption and promised to meet your deadlines. Then you puttered around and added a caption to the video before you sent it off to Kelly; 'why he walk like that tho'. She sent a series of crying emojis back and told you to post it.

'Nah, it's a dumb joke.' You typed back.

'Saw ur last vid, ppl will eat it up,' she insisted.

'Well, got nothing else to put up. The account’s dying since no one cares about my writing.'

'DO IT.' Her words sealed your resolve and you uploaded the video with some dramatic music in the background.

The response was almost instantaneous. Several comments saying they were happy to see more and others being for another video. 'We all wanna see inside this fucked up town' one added and several latched on. Ignoring the questions of where this was, you gave a thin promise of future small town thug content. 

You turned back to your work email and opened up your draft for your next gig. You couldn't help but smile as you went over your work. You might have just found your niche.

💀

You knew your nan would lose it if she knew you were snooping around the club, so you didn’t tell her. You went down, made her breakfast, went back upstairs to do your work, then tiptoed out in the late afternoon to poke around town for something to upload. Birch was so dull when you lived there but to those outside, it was a novelty you were all too eager to provide.

You got more videos of the bikers; some revving their bikes, others arguing, but there was nothing overly usable. You were getting bored of it until the man himself walked out of the bar. You record the man’s glower expression as he marched down the sidewalk and turned off just down the way.

‘His name is Bucket… wtf?!’ you keyed in and snorted as you waited for it to load to your account.

Still, there was nothing special going on, like always in Birch, and your grandmother was bound to get suspicious if you kept sneaking around. You went back and hid your phone before she could bitch about it. You cooked her dinner and sat with her as your thoughts swung between work and your TikTok.

You went to bed but couldn’t sleep. You ended up watching YouTube on your phone as the windows shook with the night winds. It wasn’t until the darkness began to glow that you were roused from the cocoon of your comforter. You looked out and saw smoke coming from the main road.

You didn’t think before you pulled on your jeans and shoved your feet into your slipper, unconcerned about them soaking through as you barreled down the stairs, the sleeves of your hoodie only half on. The back door bounced behind you and you crunched down into the snow and clamored past the row of lifeless houses. 

You were out of breath as you got to the end of the path and rounded the diner to gape over at the burning garage. You got closer as the line of bikers stood in their leather with breath puffing before them in the frigid night. You stepped back into the shadow of the brick façade of the realty office and swiped your camera open.

Your hands shook and you struggled to steady the image on the screen as the mechanic woman raged in only her tee shirt. You didn’t quite understand what was going on; only that her garage was up in smoke and then men were doing nothing to smother it. She swung at the dark haired man and spat at several others; “cowards”... “fuck all of you!”

You gulped and held your breath as she was dragged away by the large redheaded henchman of the slender outsider. She fought for a moment before she was flung over his shoulder and the biker followed their leader back to The Asp. You sidled in between the building and hid until the voices faded into the wind.

Well, that would be a hell of a video. It might even go viral.

💀

Your phone did not stop. You almost felt bad as you saw the screen limn the edges of your cell as you left it face down on the little table beside the couch. Your nan sat in her rocking chair talking away on her corded phone to Linette from down the road. You suspected that every other person in town was gossiping about the same thing; the fire.

You finished your coffee and rubbed your eyes as you checked the time and ignored the pulsing notifications. It was too much to keep up with.

Your grandmother hung up and sighed, “can’t believe it. You hear?”

“Hear what?” you pretended ignorance.

“That old garage burned down. The one with the lady,” she said, “pity. When I was a girl, that place was a salon. Ma used to take us there to get our hair cut. The barber would give us wrapped candies and pretend to cut himself with his scissors.”

“Oh? It burned down?” you weren’t sure you were very convincing but you also could just say you saw it happen.

“Yep, no one really can say. You know, maybe she was welding or some rag caught, but I bet my money on those bikers,” she sneered.

“Good thing you’re poor,” you kidded, “and why the bikers?”

“Oh, well, you know Kimmy, Linette’s girl, works down at the diner and she saw that mechanic arguing with one of those strangers, the ones dealing with the club men. Well, it’s no coincidence that trouble follows those leather jackets around,” she rocked as she nodded knowingly, “oh, one of the boys I knew back in the day, he was found burnt up with his bike. They said the tank blew… well, I saw it and that tank was pristine.”

“Nan,” you gasped, “you… Jesus.”

“Well, things don’t change in Birch, we just get older,” she continued, “when you’re young, everything seems new but then you age and it’s all just the same.”

“Wow, how… inspiring,” you said dryly.

“Girlie, you gotta be careful,” she intoned, “that fire, that’s a lesson to all the women in this town. To everyone. You don’t cross the Commandos.”

“I don’t think anyone--”

“That’s another thing, there has never been a shortage of stupid people, not now not then,” she girded, “those women who get tied up in that club, their lives are already done.”

You frowned and hid your phone in your pocket as you stood. You rubbed your neck and picked up your empty mug, “I should get started.”

“Mmm,” she said as she dialed the phone again, “I wonder if Fran knows yet.” 

💀

You were being really fucking stupid but peer pressure was not a logical thing. Even through a screen, you found it hard to resist the goads. So there you were, your phone in your hand as you live-streamed your walk down to The Asp. The data costs alone would make you regret it but you were caught up in the hype of you fifteen second of internet fame.

“Alright,” you stopped across the street and gave a view of the moniker with Cleopatra sultrily looking down at you, “this is it… I just gotta play it cool…” you turned the lens towards you and smiled nervously, “hopefully that dude at the front doesn’t stop me.”

Comments flicked up the bottom of the screen so fast and smilies and hearts floated up the side around your face. You crossed the screen as you turned your phone against your coat and approached the bar door. The large biker butted out his smoke and you bared your teeth nervously. He didn’t stop you as he rolled his shoulders and coughed.

You entered to the noise of classic rock and low voices, the clink of glasses and tap of chalk on marble. You glanced around and quickly swept your phone around to give a view of the patrons. You hurried over to the bar and climbed up on a stool.

“You need a drink?” the woman behind the bar scowled. She looked worn out even with her lips painted bright pink and her eyes clouded with blue shadow.

“Uh, sure, can I… can I get one pint of everything you have on tap?” you asked as you set your phone down and shrugged out of your coat. You draped it over the next stool and reposition your phone as you flipped the cam and used the built in stand on the case to angle yourself onto the screen.

“Sure,” she narrowed her eyes and glanced past you.

You swung your feet as you waited for her to pour the five pints; some with too much foam and the others with no head at all. You took the first and held it up for the camera.

“A classic, BudLight,” you held it up to the light, “no head and…” you sipped, “flat.” You plunked it down and coughed as you grabbed the next, “this is a raddler?” you looked at the tap for confirmation, “grapefruit… smells like piss…” you had a sip, “tastes like it too.”

You chuckled to yourself and asked for a water. You made a show of swishing it around in your mouth before you moved onto the third beer.

“Had to cleanse the palate,” you joked, “now… lots of foam on this one, dark. You know, I’m pretty surprised they have Guinness here but let’s see…” you tasted it and crinkled your nose, “that’s it. Exactly like toilet water!”

You read some of the comments telling you to check the bottles for bugs and laughed. Suddenly you were yanked off the stool by the back of your shirt and your phone was swiped up by another man as the first restrained you. You struggled against his thick arm as it hooked around your neck and the leader of their crew stared at the screen of your cell.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he snarled as he hit the screen with his thumb but the stream kept going. He dropped the phone to the floor and stomped it instead.

“This is the bitch posting about us online,” the man at your back growled. It was Steve, the one with the weird walk.

“I doubt either of you know how to use a computer,” you scoffed, “hey, let me go.”

“And why would we do that when you’re snitching to the whole world, sweetheart?” Bucky kicked your phone away as he crossed his arms.

“Actually, I’m--” you grasped Steve’s arm as it threatened to get tighter, “--promoting your trash business. I was just having a tasting, if you had just asked--”

“Shut up!” Bucky stepped closer and brought your legs up and stopped him as you planted your feet against his stomach.

“Hey,” a woman’s voice came from behind the bar as the waitress shoved aside her empty tray, “hey, she’s just a kid.”

“Bullshit,” Bucky huffed, “she looks full-grown to me.”

“So what are you gonna do?” she said, “she’s young. You can’t--”

“Don’t tell me what I can’t do,” he snapped.

“She’s right,” another voice intoned and that man, Sam, came up beside them with a pool cue in hand, “she’s just goofing around.”

“She’s a rat,” Steve insisted.

“You’re being dramatic. It’s called a meme and you do walk a little strange,” he chuckled, “no one’s gonna follow her breadcrumbs back to this shithole anyway.”

Bucky considered Sam and then looked at Steve. He poked his cheek with his tongue and sucked his teeth.

“So… you vouching for her?” Bucky asked.

“She won’t cause any more trouble, promise,” Sam said, “I’ll make sure of it.”

“You better,” Bucky snapped his fingers and you were released, “get her out of here.” 

[haus-seeblick]

Suptober Day 1! “Harvest”

My first ficlet for Suptober! Read under the cut :)

Pairing: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Rating: Mature 

Word Count: 2,218

Tags: Fluff, Disaster Bi Dean Winchester, Daydreaming about hot farmers, Some suggestive language (and swearing), Angelic wheat harvest assistance, The Dom Brow makes an appearance, Sam Ships It, Mini Case Fic  

On AO3 here.

“All right,” Dean announces as he stomps into the hospital room, trailing mud with every step. “You’re not gonna have a problem anymore, Randy.”

The man propped up on the hospital bed cushions glares at Dean from under bushy eyebrows. “Well, it’s about time,” he snaps. “First these-- these things terrorize my fields for weeks, then y’all show up and are so useless that they maim me after you’re already on the case, and now I’ve lost the prime window to harvest a year’s worth o’ growth ‘cause I’m laid up in this godforsaken facility. So don’t you tell me I ain’t gonna have a problem anymore.” 

Dean sinks down onto the rickety plastic chair next to the bed, moving gingerly to avoid jostling his (probably) dislocated shoulder, courtesy of some extremely vengeful spirits. He fixes Randy with an even gaze. 

“Man, I’m sorry about your leg. I am. The spirits had a wider range than we thought and we figured you’d be safe at the house.”

Randy snorts in obvious derision, his scruffy mustache fluttering comically. Dean presses on.

“But, we’ve put them to rest. Your great-grandparents aren’t gonna give you any more grief.”  Even if the rest of your family did totally fuck them over.

He stands again, awkwardly, and pats Randy’s good knee. “Sorry about your harvest, though. Can anyone help out? Neighbors? Friends?”

Randy glowers. “I ain’t takin’ no charity.”

Dean quirks his lips and nods. “Right. Take it easy, Randy.” He leaves the still-grumbling farmer behind, following his own trail of mud back down the hallway. A tall janitor lurking around the corner sends him a death glare and Dean tries for an appropriately apologetic smile. 

It’s been a real headache of a night. 

The pair of spirits haunting Randy Johnson’s wheat fields ended up being way more pissed off than Sam, Dean, and Cas had anticipated. By the time Cas located the heavy brass key to the farmhouse that was apparently tethering the property-line-obsessed spirits to the material plane, Dean and Sam were long out of rock salt. In their retreat, they’d ended up waist-deep in a pebbly creek, splashing and wobbling as they beat off the screeching spirits with crowbars. Dean has an unfortunately-placed boulder to thank for his dislocated shoulder -- he went down hard and clumsy just as Cas reappeared next to the stream, the old key melting dramatically in the bright glow of his palm. 

The spirits burned away in a shower of sparks, along with Dean’s dignity.

To top it all off, Dean drew the short straw to go tell Randy the case was closed, and he may have stomped off in a sulky huff before thinking of asking Cas or Sam to put his shoulder right. 

Oh, well. At least it’s dealt with. One more night in their more-stained-than-usual motel room, and first thing in the morning they’ll get the hell outta Dodge (almost literally - they’re up in Osborne County). 

Dean thinks of a bright July morning on the open road and sighs in relief.

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

He doesn’t get his wish.

“I just feel bad, Dean!” Sam protests as Dean gesticulates incredulously at him. (His shoulder was very pleasantly healed by Cas the night before, and if Dean noticed that Cas’ warm hands lingered a little longer on his skin than was technically necessary for a cursory dislocation repair, he didn’t mention it.)

“God, Sammy, yeah, it sucks about the guy’s leg, but maybe if he wasn’t such an asshole to everyone he knows, somebody’d help him out! It’s not-- it can’t be our problem.”

Sam crosses his arms stubbornly. “It’s not about Randy. His fields are part of a huge supply that feeds a ton of people. Do you want people to go hungry, Dean?”

Castiel chooses that moment to materialize directly next to Dean, his nose inches away from Dean’s cheek. He’s holding two steaming cups of coffee and Dean immediately grabs one. Cas squints and tilts his head. “Why does Dean want people to go hungry?”

“Oh my god.” Dean throws his free hand up. “Fine. Fucking fine. We’ll find someone who’s willing to plow the dude’s fields. That’ll be easy.”

Sam opens his big mouth, probably to say something about having faith in humanity, but Cas beats him to it. Still planted firmly in Dean’s bubble, he sends a puff of warm air against Dean’s face as he speaks.

“Oh. I can do it.”

Dean and Sam both look at him. Dean shuffles back a couple steps and wills his eyes away from the guy’s lips. He really spends too much time staring at them.

“Um--” Sam clears his throat. “You can harvest Randy’s wheat?”

“I can plow, yes.” Cas nods firmly. Dean’s first sip of coffee comes spraying back out. He pounds his chest and wheezes. 

“Like-- like-- with a combine?” 

Cas furrows his brow. “Is that a machine? No, I don’t require machinery. This is a very basic task.”

“Plowing,” Dean says weakly.

“Harvesting,” Cas corrects, tilting his chin down and narrowing his eyes. “Humans have been doing it for a very long time. I used to help, now and again. I can’t imagine the process has changed much.”

Sam slaps his thighs as he stands up from his bed. “Well! Look at that, Dean. Cas doesn’t want people to go hungry.” 

Dean flips him off, but it lacks the usual heat.

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

An hour later, they find themselves on the edge of a vast, lazily undulating expanse of gold. They’d skirted the north edge of the field extensively while working the spirit case, since the activity was strongest there along the creek, but in his single-minded focus Dean hadn’t really paid much attention to the field itself.

It’s big. Like, squint-into-the-distance-and-you-can’t-see-the-end big. 

“You’re really gonna plow all that?” Dean asks, glancing at Cas. The morning sun is turning the tips of Cas’ hair a chestnut gold. 

“I will cut down the stalks, separate the grain from the chaff, and deposit the edible grain into a large truck, which apparently takes it where it needs to go,” Cas says matter-of-factly. “I visited Randy early this morning to make sure I knew which truck it was.”

Sam laughs. “Oh yeah? How’d good old Randy take that?”

“He seemed dubious,” Cas says. “And rude. I assured him that despite his unsavory attitude, he would come home to harvested fields.”

“Very angelic of you,” Sam remarks. 

“So how’s this gonna go?” Dean lifts a hand to block out the steadily-rising sun. “You gonna be flapping back and forth? Probably not smart to let the locals clock an angel doing the harvest.”

Cas arches an eyebrow at him, somehow gazing down at Dean despite being an inch shorter. “I don’t flap, Dean. I may have wings, but their movement in the ether is beyond your comprehension.” 

Dean rolls his eyes and turns his face away in a show of studying the field to the north, but mostly to conceal the flush of his cheeks in response to that eyebrow. 

For Christ's sake, keep it together, Winchester.

“I can’t explain to you how it will look,” Cas continues, oblivious. “You’ll just have to watch. Anything you see will be for your eyes only. I guarantee no locals will ‘clock me.’”

Dean looks back just in time to see the tail end of the finger quotes. Cas is staring right at him, that damn eyebrow still up, a subtle challenge, daring Dean to make a move.

Maybe not so oblivious. Asshole. 

Dean smiles sweetly and gestures at the wheat. “All right then. Have at it, buddy. Show us what you’ve got.”

With no further ado, Cas is gone. Dean’s left staring through the previously-Cas-occupied space at his brother, who’s grimacing with an air of great suffering. 

“What?” Dean demands. 

Sam sighs heavily and gazes out over the field. “You two are so weird.”

Dean’s about to respond with something really witty when Sam perks up and points into the distance. “Holy crap, look!”

Dean follows the path of Sam’s outstretched finger and his mouth drops open. On the horizon, at the far end of the field, there’s a cloud. No-- a mini tornado. A golden tornado. A… sparkly tornado?

“What the--” Dean cups his hands around his eyes like blinkers. Even with the glare of the sun blocked out, though, the tornado is just as bright -- a swirling, racing funnel criss-crossing the field way faster than a combine, or even Baby, could drive. 

“Why is it-- what’s the sparkly stuff?” 

Sam’s squinting too. “I think it’s the pieces of the stalks he’s separating? And they catch the light as they get tossed around.” 

The tornado’s already halfway across the field, approaching them steadily. It’s about as tall as an oak tree, and as it gets closer Dean sees that Sam was right: thousands of little stalks and bits of grain and -- what had Cas called it? -- chaff are whirling and flitting amid the twisting golden dust of the tornado. The effect is a bit dizzying, kind of like that ocular migraine Dean had one time as a teenager, when an aura of tiny flashing spots obscured his vision, right there in his eye yet impossible to focus on. 

He steps back instinctively, Sam mirroring his movement, when the tornado grows close to them. It whips past, blowing Dean’s jacket open, and where there was once chest-high golden grain, there’s now just dirt littered with aborted stalks. 

“Damn,” Dean whispers. He’s seen Cas do all kinds of badass things, of course, but they’ve been more of the smiting and heavy-lifting variety. This is a new level of cool. In a farmer-y way. This, of course, leads Dean’s traitorous brain directly to images of worn flannel stretched tight over biceps; of a blade of hay dangling jauntily from chapped lips; of long, strong fingers gripping a pitchfork--

“--Dean!” 

The pleasantly-evolving bubble bursts. Dean twitches as Sam elbows him in the ribs.

“Dude! Cas is done, come on.”

Dean blinks a few times to bring himself back to reality (a reality with wheat-harvesting angel tornados) and realizes that Sam’s heading north along the field to where a normal-sized, non-funnel-cloudy Cas is standing, brushing off his trenchcoat. Dean follows his brother and takes in the scene; the whole field really has been reduced to nothing -- just a flat, dappled expanse.

“Damn, Cas,” he says quietly as he reaches Cas’ side. His voice comes out strained and a little breathless. “That was some good plowing.”

“Thank you, Dean,” Can replies gravely. He tugs on his cuffs and some wheat dust puffs out. “It was an effective harvest. I disguised myself from mortal eyes -- including yours -- as I transported the grain to the truck, but I trust you saw the rest?”

Sam nods enthusiastically and launches straight into a barrage of questions about the physics and techniques and yadda yadda before Dean has to come up with a response. Yeah, I saw it. Yeah, it got me all tingly. That’s normal. He takes a few deliberate, slow breaths to calm the pounding in his chest.

Still tuning Sam out, he zeroes in on a single piece of wheat still stuck in Cas’ hair. It’s poking up toward the blue summer Kansas sky -- a tiny, trembling link between earth and heaven. Dean sidles up to Cas before he can overthink it. He slips his fingers into Cas’ wild, dark hair and plucks the wheat out. 

He throws it on the ground. It belongs to the earth. 

Sam falls silent with a choked-off laugh and Cas turns his trademark unblinking stare onto Dean. But this time there’s a slight crinkle to the edges of his eyes. A quirk of his lips. 

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas says again. He reaches out and -- Dean stops breathing -- brushes another piece of wheat out of Dean’s collar. His warm fingers graze Dean’s throat and all Dean can do is watch the little stalk flutter to the ground. 

Well. So much for a steady heartbeat. 

“Hey, I’ve got stuff in my hair, too,” Sam announces, voice thick with amusement. “Anyone gonna help me out?”

Dean tears his eyes away from the enlightening piece of wheat and points a finger at Sam, leveling him with his sternest shut the fuck up face. He prays his cheeks aren’t flaming. 

“If you need assistance, Sam--” Cas says, starting toward him.

“--He’s fine,” Dean interjects hastily. Maybe a little loudly. He coughs to cover it up. Smooth. “Let’s go. I wanna hit the road.”

Sam’s already jogging away before Dean’s done speaking. “I’ve still got the keys,” he calls over his shoulder. “I’ll warm up the car. You guys can catch up!”

Cas and Dean are left at the edge of the empty field. Dean rubs his neck and shuffles his feet, acutely aware of Cas’ piercing gaze. It’s nearly warmer than the morning sun. “Uh-- that was really cool, Cas. Thanks for letting us see it.”

“Of course, Dean,” Cas replies, measured and deep. “I enjoyed sharing that with you.”

Wow. All right. Dean needs to get moving or he’s going to explode. But not before filing that particular comment away for extensive mental perusal later, in the privacy of his bedroom. 

He flashes a grin and punches Cas’ shoulder. “Come on, farmer angel. Let’s go home.”

[avarkriss]

paradise; (with a nasty bite)

✭・.・✫ 

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Female Reader

Rated: E for Explicit, 18+ Only 

Word Count: 3.589k

Summary: Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, Commander Cody, and one very ticked off Jedi Reader get pollened on what should be a very quick and simple mission 

Song/Title Inspo: Control by Unknown Brain ;; a huge thank you to Elisha (@beskars​) for encouraging/proofing these shenanigans

Warnings: Threesome - F/M/M; Sex Pollen and therefore automatic DubCon; Sass; Force Projection; Force Sensitivity and Mind Reading; I Know That’s Not How The Force Works Don’t At Me; Boys Kissing; Oral Sex (M/M, F/M); Masturbation and Mutual Masturbation; Kissing; Shameless Bisexuality and Smut; Vaginal Fingering; Spit as Lube; Spit Kink; Fucking on Obi’s Cloak Kink; Beach Sex; Double Penetration (Vaginal); Very Light D/S tones, Poor Ani

Image credits: unsplash  

Author’s Note: My first pollen fic!! I do apologize if I miss any grammar/spelling/formatting issues, this was primarily written on my phone in the middle of the woods lmao. I love a good threesome, I hope you to too! Plus we’re getting delivered early because I got home early :) Enjoy, share what you can, and be well ~

The heat on Borleias was oppressive.

It was sticky. 

Heavy. 

And you swore to the Force you were inhaling as much water as you were drinking. 

The worst part though? The very worst part was that the beach was so close you could kriffing smell it. 

Cool relief called to you from just a few meters away, the melodic crashing of the waves lulling you into a state of serenity you didn't think was possible in this hellscape - something else to focus on besides the salt crusting on your skin from where your sweat had evaporated.

Until you heard his blasted voice crackling in your comlink, cursing that crisp Coruscanti accent for pulling you out of the only moment of peace you've known since landing in this Force-forsaken jungle. 

The sound was slightly muffled, humidity having crept into the smallest of cracks in the watertight seals on the device. 

"I need you to stay focused," Obi-Wan reprimanded. 

“Of course,” you grumbled, tugging at the neck of your tunic while inwardly groaning at the way the coarseweave stuck to your skin. “Have you placed your beacon yet?” you grumbled, the hilt of your lightsaber slipping in your palm. 

No one saw you fumble it, certainly. No one except for apparently Cody, who you heard choke on a laugh from three meters away. If looks could kill he would have been wounded but he just couldn’t contain himself - you had to be the second clumsiest Jedi in the Order with that thing, the first of course being General Kenobi. 

You waited five more standard minutes before lifting your wrist to your mouth, hissing into your comm. “Well?” 

“You’re so testy in the heat,” Obi-Wan grunted from behind. You startled and nearly dropped your lightsaber again, glowering at him as mirth dared to dance in his eyes. 

“Great. You’re back. I’m going to the beach so I can soak the sweat off,” you snarked, making a concentrated effort to push through the foliage in front of you, desperate for the ocean to cleanse your spirits. 

“Seems that the heat is getting to her, sir,” Cody remarked, watching Obi-Wan gently shake his head before trudging after you. 

When the two men emerged from the forest they found your boots, belt, lightsaber, and pants strewn about the beach in a haphazard line straight to the water where they could see you floating on your back, dimly lit by the moon. 

“Must you leave a mess everywhere you go?" Obi-Wan shouted, bending down to gather your things in a neat pile. 

You rolled your eyes heavily, knowing he couldn't see you in the water. "I'm going to shake Anakin if I don't die here first," you grumbled to yourself, begrudging the day you were assigned to this mission because he had " urgent business on Naboo ." 

Obi-Wan thumped to the ground next to the pile, neatly folding your pants as Cody sat down next to him, removing his helmet. 

"I've read about this planet sir, there's a meteor shower every year," Cody mentioned, hugging his knees to his chest as he looked at the stars along the horizon. 

"I believe you're correct Cody," Obi-Wan mused, taking in the way Cody’s curls seemed to have tightened with the planet’s humidity, basking in his calm while he looked out across the ocean. 

"I can't believe it," Cody gasped, suddenly sitting straight before scrambling to lay on his back. Obi-Wan curiously followed his gaze, tilting his chin skyward to find the shimmering tails of a cluster of shooting stars. 

"It's nice to enjoy this," Cody mumbled, speaking to no one but himself.  

"It is," Obi-Wan agreed, smiling at Cody before calling out to you, beckoning you to the beach before pointing at the stars. 

You slowly removed yourself from the water, coming to stand next to Obi-Wan. You bit back a scoff when you saw the way he had neatly folded and arranged your belongings, crossing your arms as you looked to the sky. 

"As much as I can't stand this planet, being here for the annual meteor shower is pretty amazing," you thought aloud, sand sticking to your toes and ankles. 

Obi-Wan hummed in agreement as he moved to lay down, the top of his head brushing against Cody's. You shrugged and decided to join them, toes towards that cursed jungle as you laid down, your wet hair joining theirs. 

The three of you laid there for a while, relaxing against the warm sand while the planet slowly dropped in temperature, becoming only slightly more bearable. You had no idea how much time had passed when a breeze finally picked up, carrying glittering silver grains in its wake. 

You ran your finger up your arm, examining the sparkles when you realized it was pollen from the jungle. 

"Curious," Obi-Wan said, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together, slowly sitting up. 

"Obi-Wan," you warned, sitting up yourself as he began to walk up the beach. Cody scrambled and lightly jogged to catch up with him. 

You watched them at the forest line, Obi-Wan carefully studying a lightly colored flower - the source of the pollen, you were sure. He plucked one and returned with it and Cody, sitting down next to you.

"I've never seen such a thing before," you marveled, reaching out your hand to hold the flower. 

It was palm sized, the petals so thin that if there was just one you could have made out the shape of your finger behind it. The edges of the petals were nearly metallic in their argent color, gently rippled and curled. At the center of the flower was a milky white stamen that seemed to glow in the moonlight, studded with the last remnants of silver pollen that hadn't been taken by the wind. 

"We didn't see any of these on our way in," you mentioned, turning the flower in your hand. 

"No," Cody confirmed, extending his hand so he could study the plant. "But there are many flowers that only bloom at night." 

"I think it may be some type of aestus flower," Obi-Wan mentioned casually, rolling his lower lip between his teeth. 

"You can't be -" you started, stopping before you realized you were being ridiculous. The family of aphrodisiac flowers was so valuable they'd be well documented on this planet, known for being exceptionally poor in natural resources. 

“An aestus flower, sir?” Cody questioned, tilting his head as he lifted the flower to eye level. 

“They’re a… a flower known to produce various aphrodisiac effects,” Obi-Wan explained, quickly continuing when he caught sight of Cody’s furrowed brows. “But they’re known to work very quickly, so this may be a distant cousin of sorts.” 

“Regardless, I’m sitting over there,” you threw your thumb to the side, gesturing to a large smooth rock in the sand, “until we’re sure it’s not what you think it is. I could use a few hours of quiet.” 

Obi-Wan nodded his head as you stood, slowly moving himself closer to the tree line. “Just for precaution,” he smiled. 

Cody nodded too and moved a few meters away himself, your close circle turning into a giant awkward triangle on the beach. 

You settled on the stone, feeling the heat of the planet push against your chest once more. 

But as time started to slow and the weight increased, you began to fear that Obi-Wan was, once again, absolutely correct. 

“Just meditate through it,” you whispered to yourself, crossing your legs underneath you while you rested your wrists on your knees, palms facing the sky. "Just breathe." 

You slowly closed your eyes and took the deepest breath you could manage, reaching out to connect with your surroundings. You were searching, looking for something cool, something calming. 

You needed to ground yourself, build an unshakable foundation to ward off the storm you could feel brewing in the pit of your stomach. 

The stone beneath you was too warm and the ocean always took extra concentration, concentration you couldn't spare as you desperately tried to block out the growing heat between your thighs and the gentle groan you heard from somewhere down the beach. 

"Breathe," you spoke to yourself, reaching for the trees. You found them hot, burning from the aestus flowers and resistant to your touch. You sensed something alluring and cold nearby, creeping towards it until you realized it was Obi-Wan, pulling away before you made the mistake of making him your home. 

"Breathe," you spat from between gritted teeth, eyes scrunching with the involuntary flutter from between your legs. You reached into the sand, desperate, aching. But it fell from your grasp slowly, mocking you. Taunting. There was no stability to be found in sand.

There was another ragged moan from down the beach and you ground your teeth down, placing the tips of your fingers against the flat stone, clinging to the steady vibrations between every molecule. 

Heat grew between your thighs as something cool lapped at your back, calling to you like gentle water. 

Relax, little one. 

You couldn't help the growl growing in the back of your throat, letting it escape briefly before swallowing it back down. His voice was honey thick; sticky and warm and pulling you in. 

The groaning from down the beach intensified, joined by stumbling footsteps that climbed away from you, drawn in by Obi-Wan's cooling aura. 

Cody, you panicked, reaching out for him until you realized Obi-Wan had brought him to the safety of harbor first. 

You felt him pull away from you, keeping a connection at the small of your back. You felt like your skin was going to burn off of your bones, thighs slicking as your arousal began to pool. 

Groans turned to whimpers, threatening to break your concentration as you dove deeper and deeper, fighting the pull that threatened to drag you to the surface. 

It was when things finally turned quiet that you straightened your spine, breathing deeply until you felt a familiar flicker somewhere in the corner of your consciousness. 

The sound was different now - wet and messy and your throat felt like it was starting to close until a strangled moan erupted, pulling you out of the shelter you had forged. 

Your protective walls were down and you were exposed, every nerve ending combusting at once until the projection of pleasure slammed into your chest. 

You felt relief for the briefest of moments until it ebbed away, fleeting glimpses of bliss strangling your heart every few seconds until tears began to fall down your cheeks. It was going to make you lose your sanity, bouncing between the burning heat of desire and the sweet relief of satisfaction being sent through you. 

You pulled yourself up and started to walk towards the tree line, vision blurred and gait unsure. You were ready to scream, ripped open and raw and hurting and alone -

"I hate -" you sobbed, falling to your knees at the sight of Obi-Wan on his, Cody’s cock buried in his mouth while he choked on his own relieved cries. 

Your words died on your tongue and your mouth parted as you studied them, beautiful in the moonlight. Cody was bare and had his head thrown back, his hands tangled in Obi-Wan’s auburn hair as he thrust into his mouth. 

You reached between your thighs as you watched - Cody stuttering in his rhythm while Obi-Wan stroked himself, hand moving under his robes. 

Your fingers danced around your aching clit, craving relief that evaded you at every turn. Obi-Wan's projection was constant now, his pleasure mounting with Cody’s. When Cody came the projection pushed you onto your ass, hitting the sand with a gentle thud. You groaned and thrust your fingers into your aching pussy, watching Cody join Obi-Wan on his knees, pulling him in for a kiss. 

Their tongues danced together and your lips tingled with ache, mouth and throat dry while you panted. 

Please , you pleaded, reaching out to tangle yourself with Obi-Wan as Cody kissed him and took his cock in his hand. When Cody began to pump him up and down Obi-Wan pushed so hard against you that you fell onto your back breathless, rapidly thrusting in and out of your heat. 

You couldn't see it when he came but you heard him moan, feeling the pleasure ripple through your tummy and up your chest. You threw your head back into the sand, screaming out in frustration as hot tears simmered on your cheeks, begging for your own release. 

Someone knelt down next to you, their hand on your forehead sending a jolt down your back. You whimpered as you arched under the gentle touch, chasing the connection as the hand pulled away. 

"General," Cody murmured, slipping it under your neck to help you sit up. You pulled your fingers from within yourself and curled into Cody, crying against his shoulder. 

"I - I -," you stammered, struggling to find your words as you continued to clench around nothing, aching to be filled. 

"We know what you need darling," Obi-Wan rumbled, spreading his cloak onto the sand. "We're here now." He was attempting to send a calming rush towards you, finding you unresponsive to it as you kissed across Cody's shoulder. 

Cody’s lips fell to your neck, mouthing at your skin as you grew impossibly hotter in his arms. 

"She needs more Cody," Obi-Wan pointed out, helping to roll you onto his cloak as Cody settled between your legs. "Taste her," he suggested, shrugging off the rest of his robes. 

As soon as Cody's tongue made contact with your soaked folds you let out a wrecked moan, twisting against the cloak until Obi-Wan settled next to you, leaning down to pull your soaked tunic off of you before capturing your lips in a searing kiss. 

You succumbed to him immediately, letting his tongue push against yours as he licked into your mouth. He still tasted of Cody and you moaned below him, fisting one hand in Cody's hair as the other searched for Obi-Wan's cock, joining his own in stroking himself to relieve the fire slowly consuming you all from the inside out. 

Obi-Wan spread a hand over your breast, slowly tweaking one of your nipples while Cody lapped at your clit. He was groaning into you as his fingers searched out your entrance, index and middle slipping in with ease. 

Your hips arched off the cloak to meet his eager mouth, moans filling the air as Obi-Wan broke away from your mouth to take your nipple between his teeth, leaving a trail of stars blooming across your skin in his wake. 

Obi-Wan, please - 

Your walls were down and he was starting to crumble. 

"Cody," Obi-Wan whispered, running his hand through his hair. When he lifted his head from between your legs his eyes were shining as much as his mouth, slowing his fingers inside of you. "Sit back a moment my darling." 

Cody sat back on his knees and dragged his fingers slowly out of you. You keened at the loss until you saw Obi-Wan lean over to Cody, taking his fingers into his mouth, groaning at the way you tasted on his salty skin. 

Obi-Wan cast his eyes down to you as he palmed at your breasts, pulling off of Cody's fingers when he was sure that they were clean. He came back to your tips, tapping them open with a gentle finger before spitting into your mouth, tasting of you and Cody and something uniquely him. 

After leaving a parting bite on your lower lip he helped you roll onto your stomach, gesturing for Cody to resume his place between your legs as he stroked himself and came around to your mouth. 

Let him fuck me, please - 

Your thoughts were loud in your head as Obi-Wan moaned, giving voice to the desires you couldn't speak. 

As Cody lined himself up to your entrance Obi-Wan found your mouth, each man pushing into you, synchronous with the other. 

Your groans were muffled around Obi-Wan, eyes fluttering closed as relief settled into you, the fire shrinking with every thrust of their cocks. 

Cody had you stretched in the most delicious of ways, moaning and cursing as he thrust into you, one hand pressed against your pussy and the other resting on Obi-Wan's. 

They both started to say your name louder, your body shaking between them, threatening to break if you didn't find release soon. But as Cody timed his thrusts to oppose the press of his finger on your clit and Obi-Wan pulled your hair while hissing from the way you traced him with your tongue, your vision went white and the world finally stopped spinning. 

Your euphoria was short lived, quickly replaced by deep heat between your legs. Cody and Obi-Wan found their release shortly after, spilling inside of you as they each moaned out your name. 

They parted from you for a moment, pausing to kiss each other before coming to your sides, each man laying next to you. 

"It's not stopping soon is it," you panted, looking to Cody and then to Obi-Wan who both shook their heads. You let out a shaking exhale as the pain grew stronger. You couldn't fight it anymore, leaving yourself wide open, thoughts so obvious that even Cody could gather what was on your mind. 

Obi-Wan shared in your sensation and grabbed at your waist, urging you to straddle him. Once you were comfortably seated Obi-Wan set a punishing pace, snapping his hips up into your while he kneaded the flesh of your ass between his fingers. 

Cody watched for a few moments before taking himself in his palm, stroking in time to Obi-Wan's thrusts. His face began to contort with pain when a thought burst through your fog. 

Self-stimulation is ineffective, isn't it? 

You were interweaving yourself with Obi-Wan, clinging to the cool of his force signature as he slowed just a touch, breathing out a shudder confirmation. 

With that you turned towards Cody, gently calling his name as Obi-Wan slowly rocked into you, expression curious. 

"I'm so wet," you moaned, looking him up and down. 

"You are," he confirmed, putting his hand where your body met Obi-Wan's, the other still wrapped tightly around his cock. He teased you both for a few moments, running his fingers across both of you at once. 

"I can take you both together." 

The words rolled off your tongue before you realized you had said them, both men moaning as Cody began to work a finger and then two into your pussy without hesitation. 

"You’re sure?" he grunted, wrapping your hand around his cock as he pushed his fingers deeper, working in tandem with the subtle roll of Obi-Wan's hips. 

"Yes," you cried, voice strained as he pushed in a third. "Can't stand to see either of you in this pain." 

Cody hummed against your skin as he kissed you, helping you adjust to the stretch before pulling away, coming behind you. 

With a firm hand to your back Cody pushed you forward until your chest was nearly flush with Obi-Wan's. You heard him spit against you, rubbing at you with his thumbs before pressing his head against your entrance, easing himself inside. 

You and Obi-Wan moaned from the pressure, stilling as he worked his way in. You swallowed your cries as Obi-Wan bit into your shoulder, hands firm on your hips as he tried to hang onto the last bit of his mental wall. 

That, however, came crashing down as soon as Cody began to move, the force of his pleasure knocking the wind from your chest. When you opened your eyes you could see your tears mixed with his, leaning down to lick them away before he began to work in tandem with Cody - thrusting in as he pulled out. 

They worked against each other and you were seeing stars, becoming wetter and wetter with every orgasm that rushed through your body. At some point you realized that the wetness was their come leaking out of you, both men showing no signs of easing up anytime soon. 

You couldn't be certain how many times any of you came, riding out high after high, changing positions, coming in and on each other as you lost yourselves in the pleasure, desperate to keep the burning pain away. 

At some point though the effects of the pollen had worn off and the three of you collapsed together, sticky and sweet and warm. Time had returned though sense was still absent. 

You and Cody had each curled around Obi-Wan, legs tangled together and arms entwined. Eventually you each slipped into a heavy slumber, shared murmurs of thanks fading away as your eyelids drooped. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Slowly you began to rouse, feeling the heat of the sun beginning to sear your skin, quickly coming to your senses when a high pitched shriek jolted you all awake. 

You startled to find Captain Rex doubled over in laughter as Anakin threw his cloak over the pile of limbs you were wrapped in, head turned away and paler than you could ever recall seeing him. 

"Anakin, aren't you supposed to be on Naboo?" Obi-Wan questioned, slowly sitting up. He was blinking in the sun, memories slowly returning as you and Cody unwrapped yourselves from around him.

"I was until the Council told me they never heard your team check in. They sent me here and I find this," he gestured dramatically, pinching the bridge of his nose as he turned away. 

"Like I needed another reason to hate sand." 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Full Masterlist // Star Wars Masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Tags - Tumble has a tag limit and we’ve exceeded it (which is so cool I can’t believe that many of you are interesting in reading my work!) so we’ll be switching to comment tags, this should also mean that everyone’s tags will work for once!! 

Tag lists are open: just CLICK HERE and tell me what you want to get tagged in, or send me an ask/DM!

[mystic-kitten-writer]

Limerence [M] ︳34

Pairing: Zuko x Fem. OC (Ying Yue Jiang)

Genre: Romance, mainly fluff with future smut, and if you squint hard enough - you’ll find some angst.

Rating: SFW

Words: 16100+

Notes: It’s finally up! Sorry it took me so long to edit, I don’t know why, but it kept lagging. I’m probably gonna log on tmw and re-edit because things just kept freezing on here. But take care everyone, and I hope you like it~!

Masterlist ︳33 ︳ 35 [M]

❤ Buy me a coffee? ❤

Limerence: (English/n.) the state of being infatuated with another person.

The moment their eyes locked they knew - the flames within him twisted while the water within her turned. It was a connection, a connection that would lead to love, adventure, and drama.

“Lacuna”

(Latin/n.) A blank space, a missing part.

~ Countess Mai ~

           Fucking Ying Yue, that dumb bitc-

           Kissing my teeth disagreeably loud, I could feel the jagged rocks under the thin sole of my shoes, the ground stupidly uneven and uncharted. My breathing came in quick pants, bruises lingering on my arms, thighs burning as we marched up the cliff at a steady pace. The looming trees above provided ample shade and cover, kicking up dust as Azula trailed in front.

           My lips parted, another exhausted breath escaping me as I narrowed my eyes – Azula.

           Her long ponytail swayed side to side like a whip, face void of any expressive emotion, trekking forward with purpose. Her shoulders were squared, not breaking a sweat from the steepness of the hill or the humid air. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve said she was completely fine – but I knew better.

           “Azula,”  I muttered, voice monotoned, barely audible. But the speed at which Azula’s posture tensed proved as evidence that she heard me loud and clear. Still sharp as ever.

           Effortlessly, she looked over her shoulder, raising a perfectly groomed brow at me. “What?” Azula clipped, jaw clenched as she bore over me impatiently. I ignored the sharpness in her tone, a gentle breeze causing the bangs that framed her face to twirl—the way she held her head high, nose in the air.

           Her pace didn’t flatter once, high-tailing at an alarmingly hasty pace. Don’t blame her, the faster we get away from the Kingdom, the better. The scenery around us was different from the last hide-out she brought me to. The landscape seemed thicker, so dense that one could easily scream for help, and not a single soul would hear—a perfect hide-out.

           “Are we close?” I bore, rolling my eyes as my foot nudged a rock. “If I wanted to go on a nature walk, I would’ve gone to work with my sister.”

           The stone tumbled, skipping by Azula’s feet.

           She scoffed under her breath, eyes judging as she twisted her body forward, continuing on her march. “Why, tired? Try not to get your ass kicked by a peasant next time.” Azula expired, and I could hear the way her lips curved upwards at the insult.

           My eyes glowered once more, “Nice scar you have on your hand.”

           Azula stopped.

           The way her hands quaked, balling into fists before letting go-

           My pace eased, cautiously treading behind her before coming to a complete stop, surveying the way she towered above. Despite her back facing me, I could feel it. An aura of malice – down to the twitch in her fingertips.

           I swallowed, seeing the bright pink scar that ran across Azula’s palm. The way the dipping sun managed to seep through the thick bush, seemingly emphasizing how deep the cut ran. It wasn’t a wound for the weak, the skin roughly patched together by her flames. Gross.

           Azula abruptly shook her hand, balling it into a fist as if she could feel my lingering eyes studying the cut in detail.

           “Up ahead,” She spoke, catching my attention, “The cave.”

           I looked beyond Azula, realizing the way the ground evened for a moment, moss-covered rocks looming ahead. The entrance was almost entirely out of sight, only noticeable now that she pointed out the obvious. Trees grew on top of the structure, the dark abyss begging us to enter—the perfect image of a secreted lair.

           My feet itched to move, but I stopped myself, noting that Azula didn’t move a muscle despite us being a few steps away. Fucking- I swore under my breath, flicking my fingers in annoyance.

           “What’s the holdup?” I grumbled, trying my hardest not to roll my eyes once again, but it was her voice. The deadly drop in pitch, the way she hissed.

           “I’ll kill her,” Azula whispered, and I could feel my skin begin to heat up.

           Every word Azula spat was laced with venom, filled with a deep-rooted hatred, a passion and emotion-evoking tone that was all too unfamiliar. Azula, the most put-together being, the only one to keep her composure together, even in the heat of battle. But now-

           The way Azula’s fists trembled, letting her emotions rise to the surface.

           She’s not the same.

           “I’ll make her regret thinking that I’m anything less than perfect.” Azula hissed under her breath, and I grimaced. She didn’t need to say her name for me to know who she was talking about. Her nails dug into the skin of her palm, a bead of scarlet running down her porcelain skin, her wound reopening.

           Soundlessly I watched as the lone droplet of blood dripped onto the dirt below, and just like that – with a quick shake of her hand, Azula walked forward. Her shoulders were relaxed, flicking a strand of hair behind her ears as she casually strolled.

           As if nothing had happened.

           Not a single sound could be heard besides the rustling of the tree branches, Azula’s feet kicking up a trail of dust as she stomped over loose rocks. The only real thing of interest in this forsaken forest was her retreating figure.

           The mouth of the cave eagerly welcomed Azula, the shadows beginning to swallow her body. Just as she was about to take another step, she halted, head tilting as if trying to hear something. She looked over her shoulder, an exhausted look on her face.

            “Stop gawking like a fool, Mai, or else I’ll leave you with the Avatar and his annoying friends.” Azula pestered, her tone oddly tranquil, different from the act moments ago.

           I glared, kissing my teeth as I commanded my feet to move.

           “Whatever,” I muttered petulantly, begrudgingly going as I stripped my gaze away. I could hear Azula snort, rustling onward as I swiftly caught up. The burn in my legs seemed to grow tenfold, the slight pause in our march giving time for my body to take in the damage Ying Yue unleashed earlier. What a nuisance.

           I crossed my arms, eyes looking straight ahead as the space around us darkened the further we descended into the mouth of the cave.

           The air felt abnormally dewy, but it was the uncanny silence as we entered that had my guard rising. The sound of Azula’s and I breathing seemed to have intensified, every sniffle or breaking of a twig ricocheting off the walls at an alarming volume. Watchfully my eyes scanned our surroundings, piles of rubbish sprinkled.

           Food, water canisters-

           “Where the fuck is she?” A man’s voice resonated in the ample space, and my pace flattered. My eyes tapered, taking note of the glowing specs of light up ahead. People, but that voice-

           I knew that voice, and I could feel my gut drop.        

           Memories of Kayto swamped my mind, remembering the final moments of that faithful day. The sound of his body slain from the inside, his last breath, how lifeless his eyes looked-

           “Looking for me, Yakone?” Azula purred devilishly, as she strolled frontward. The illuminations were now in full view, torches laid along with the outermost corners, lighting the space. But that wasn’t what caught my attention.

           It was the tall foreboding man at the center, whose chest was rising and falling, eyes glowing. His fists balled up, nostrils flared the moment he caught sight of Azula, before briefly shifting his gaze on me. His lips pressed tight; jaw clenched as he took a sharp inhale.

           “Where the fuck were you, and why is your fucking finger-puppet here?” Yakone spat, stepping forward, dangerous slow.

           Azula’s body stiffened slightly, but the way she brushed back her long bangs behind her ear, letting a hand rest on her hip as if she was completely unbothered by the beast in front of her. Yakone’s eyes were stone cold, a blue that easily reminded one of the dark depths of the sea, the unknown – danger.

           “Mai is staying with us now.”

           “Isn’t that a fucking treat.” Yakone sarcastically replied, running a hand through his hair.

           Azula’s eyes narrowed, Yakone licking his lips impatiently. “You know what else is a fucking treat, the fact that I just got word that someone tried to kill not only your dumbass brother but Ying Yue.” He bellowed. The veins in his neck bulged as he spoke, and as he took a step headfirst, Azula took a step back.

           Why would Yakone be upset that Azula wanted to kill Ying Yue? Isn’t that plan?

           Carefully I followed her lead, letting my body ease its way to the other side of the stony encasement, and as I shifted, I could see the look on Azula’s face. Her lips pressed, eyes conspicuous as Yakone inched his way closer and closer to her figure. Azula, she’s cowering away-

           “What are you trying to suggest, Yakone,” Azula warned, and he merely hooted, losing his patience by the second. “It was you and your lil’ friend over there, wasn’t it? You tried to kill Ying Yue.” Yakone interrogated, his hands twitching, cracking his fingers.

           She rolled her eyes, “What makes you think I have anything to do with this?”

           My eyes widen, hearing those words leave her lips - Azula’s lying.

           The way Azula effortlessly tried to bypass Yakone’s questioning, acting aloof and unbothered. But I saw the way Yakone rolled his shoulders back, chest buffing. My arms reached into my sleeves, fingers grazing the knives that laid hidden-

           And just like that, Yakone lunged.

           His hand reached forward with speed, grabbing Azula’s by her neck, shoving her against the rocks behind. His fingers spread across her windpipe, nails digging into her skin.

           Azula looked like a hurt puppy.

           The way Yakone effortlessly overpowered her, the grip on his hand tightening, purple and blue bruises rising to the surface of her skin quickly. The sound of my feet shifting over the dirt that decorated the floor caught Yakone’s attention, as he raised his free hand, wiggling his fingers towards me.

           “Fucking try, and I swear I’ll make your death more painful than Kayto’s.”

           I stilled, holding my breath as I watched as Azula’s hands fell over his.

           “What are you doing-” she hissed, eyes crazed as he practically lifted her body off the ground with no struggle. Her feet barely touched the ground, Yakone putting a warning-amount of pressure on her neck, her face turning a light shade of pink.

           “Don’t you ever fucking forget, Azula, who needs who here.” Yakone snarled.

           He leaned closer to her face; their foreheads pressed together as he tousled above. “I agreed to your plan because of two things. No United Nations, and your brother’s demise. One of those things failed, meaning Zuko’s death is the one reason why I’m even here.”

           Azula growled, “I told you I wanted to ruin him, damage him, not kill.”

           “Oh, now we’re getting into technicalities here, and I’m not one for word games. I want Zuko dead, Ying Yue was not apart of this discussion.”

           “What do you expect, Yakone? That she’s going to run and give hugs and kisses to her long-lost Uncle? You’re a criminal.”

           “And what about you, smart-ass?” Yakone shouted, shoving her body further against the rocks. She winced as the sharp edges dug into her back, “You think you’re just going to hurt Zuko and take the throne? You were nothing more but a tool for your father’s failed plan, even your mother, tossed you aside. You’re disposable.”

           The looks on both of their faces, insults and slurs tossed, each one of them raising their voices to beat each other—a shouting match, whose lungs were loudest, who could hurt the other more. I swallowed hard, taking a step back as my arms limply fell to my side.

           The whole time I thought Azula and Yakone shared the same goals, a singular plan in mind. But the way Azula shrieked and Yakone roared had my body feeling numb, their fighting fading to background noise.

           I thought the real threat was Azula and Yakone working together, but I was wrong.

           This was far worse.

           There’s no longer a game plan, a goal, or a motive.

           One wants blood, and the other wants power – both willing to cross each other and lie to get what they want.

 ~ Ying Yue Jiang ~

           “She’s pregnant!”

           “What a blessing, will this be her third child?”

           “Fourth, her eldest is serving in the navy.”

           “Ahh, yes-yes, slipped from my mind. How beautiful, if only I could convince my husband…”

           “Makes two of us. How about you, Imperial Consort Ying Yue? Have you thought about having children of your own?” The ladies giggled, sipping away on their sweet teas in the garden.  

           The cherry blossom branches swayed under the gentle breeze, the pink flowers cascading with the current, fluttering like butterflies. The cool shade painted our skin, providing as an escape from the blaring sun, although the kids didn’t seem to mind the heat in the slightest. Quite the contrary – they were thriving.

           Their laughter was clear as day, ringing throughout the palace gardens, but I couldn’t help but tune in with Kiyi’s the most. The ladies’ banter lost to the birds humming and moving water – absorbed in the beautiful smile on Kiyi’s face as she chatted away with her friends.

           A red and golden embroidered picnic blanket laid over the grass, Kiyi was passing along the turtle duck food for her friends to feed. Her cheeks were dusted in pink, telling them fascinating facts about the creatures from the Southern Water Tribe.

           “After school tomorrow, I’ll read the book to you. They have this animal called a ‘Polar Bear Dog’ – and it’s so cute and fluffy!” Kiyi gushed, and I would be lying if I said I didn’t snort hearing her excitement. The way her eyes twinkled with passion, a small part of my heart hurt – because the look reminded me so much of Zuko’s whenever he got excited.

           Zuko…I miss you-

           “Imperial Consort?” A voice droned; the sound close to my being, I found myself jumping. My head snapped to the women beside me, them staring at me with looks of concern. Shit – what were we talking about again?

           “My apologies, I was watching the children-” I started, and the lady to my side started to snicker. She rose a napkin to her face, delicately tapping the tissue to rid herself of any crumbs that littered her appearance. All the women looked put-together, their hair and makeup done to impress, their clothes extravagant, meant to display their status.

           “I guess that answers our question.”

           “What question?” I inquired, and the ladies began to laugh once again.

           “Whether or not Fire Lord Zuko and you are planning on having children anytime soon.” She replied, shooting me a sheepish smile. My mouth dropped, a shy blush coating my cheeks as a meek oh escaped me. Of course, they were talking about children and family. Almost all the high-ranking nobles were married, most with kids – or pregnant.

           I stuck out like a sore thumb in these ‘royal tea parties,’ unable to relate to the women or men due to my lack of domestic life. I’m a mere child dressed in adult clothes – playing dress-up. My hands fell over my lap after combing my hair behind my ear, carelessly pressing thumbs as a means to keep my composure. I could feel my skin starting to heat up once again.

           Another fever- Katara is going to kill me.

           “Well, if it is not out of line to ask – when do you and Fire Lord Zuko plan on officially tying the knot?” A curious voice peeked, and at the question alone, I found myself reaching for my teacup, stealing a sip of the much-needed chamomile tea.

           Marriage – with Zuko? I fought back the petty laugh. Marriage with Zuko seems more like a distant dream than a reality.

           “Hopefully, once Fire Lord Zuko completes a few of his personal projects. Love is patient after all, and I’ll wait an eternity for him.” I spoke, forcing the words to leave my lips as I swallowed the lukewarm liquid.

           It was comical, how quick they were to eat up my words, gushing about how romantic I was, that I was willing to wait for Zuko – words straight out of a romance novel. If only they knew that that was only scratching the surface of what I would do for Zuko, the things I would sacrifice.

           I could feel my shoulders slump over in defeat, biting my lips anxiously.

           The women didn’t notice the waver in my voice, the blue smile on my face, or the tears that I desperately held back. They were more concerned about the newest designer, skincare product, and fragrance – topics I would’ve undoubtedly been interested in if I didn’t have a looming fog in my mind.

           Politics, it’s all politics.

           The kid’s squeals peeked in volume, catching my attention, the children throwing their napkins in the air, towards Kiyi. What in the world-

           “It’s okay! I’ll be right back!” Kiyi insisted before standing up.

           Her black hair bobbed side to side, skipping towards me at full speed. Droplets of something dripping after every bounce, tainting the green coloured grass under her steps, seeping into the soil.

           “Button-” I cooed, letting my tea rest on my plate before outstretching my arms. My hands caressed her face, and the happiness in her expression had me sporting a smile – a genuine smile. Kiyi was a breath of fresh air. Youthfulness and innocence, a heart of pure gold.

           “What happened, button? You’re a mess.” I snickered under my breath, watching the sticky liquid trickle from the hem of her dress, her lap completed covered. She scratched her head, shooting me a spirited grin. She looks just like Zuko when she smiles like that-

           “An accident, I didn’t see the jug of juice, and I kind of hit it.” Kiyi giggled, and I couldn’t help but snort, running my hand through her loose locks. “You’re so silly, button. Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?” I assured, light-heartedly tapping her nose.

           Kiyi nodded her head before shifting her gaze to the women I was seated with. My eyes followed hers, flustered at how the women looked over us with broad smiles – hearts for eyes.

           “I bet on two kids.”

           “Really? I think one.”

           “Wouldn’t be surprised if they already have a name picked out.” The ladies bantered between themselves as if I wasn’t currently sitting with them.

           I could feel a tiny finger poke my cheek, looking back at Kiyi, a teasing smile on her face. And seeing her sport that knowing look, a look that reminded me of a harmonious mixture of Zuko’s and Toph’s ‘I’m up to no good’ had me freezing.

           Oh no-

           “Izumi – Zuzu told me that that’s the name they want,” Kiyi spoke up, catching on to the topic at hand far too quickly for my liking. The women all leaned over in disbelief, jaws hitting the table, struggling to process the very thing Kiyi blurted.

           My eyes widen, the silly banter of family life between Zuko and I exposed. When and why did Zuko tell Kiyi this information-

           “Button-”

           “And Zuzu said they have a baby room set up in their vacation house! I can’t wait until I become an aunt. He said it’s a very serious job and-” My hand fell over Kiyi’s lips, cutting her off midsentence as I shot the women an embarrassed smile.

           The redness of my face was no longer due to my impending fever – but out of the utter realization that Zuko seemingly unleashes all his damn soft and fluffy feelings to her. Kiyi really is Zuko’s weakness, isn’t she?

           “Let’s get that dress cleaned button,” I said through awkward giggles, hand still firmly placed over her face, Kiyi letting out squeals of delight through my fingers.

           “Yue and Zuzu, sitting on a-”

           “Throne because he’s Fire Lord and I’m his-”

           “Wifey.” Kiyi managed to yelp.

           The speed at which my body moved, not bothering to say my goodbyes to these royals, as I nudged Kiyi’s body forward with my own. There was no way in the spirit world I was going to look behind me, already imaging the sunny looks on those women’s faces hearing the fuss coming from Kiyi’s lips.

           “I swear, button, I’m going to revoke cookie dates from you!” I mumbled under my breath, feeling the way Kiyi’s body shook from joy. My hand slipped from her mouth, her face pink as she held her stomach, her laughter loud and proud. And despite the embarrassment and exasperation, I found myself laughing along with her.

           There was something about hearing a child’s guiltless laugh that was contagious, especially coming from Kiyi. The smile on my face was enormous, reaching my eyes. When was the last time I smiled this much? The last time I laughed freely, enjoying my time?

           “You’re so much trouble, button~.” I blew, hands falling over her shoulders, embracing her. My fingers squeezed her chubby cheeks from behind basking in the sun’s heat before we walked up the palace steps. The guards before us opened the grand doors, observing the way I coddled Kiyi to my body. Like a momma bear.

           There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that they didn’t already know the trouble Kiyi could cause in less than a minute – the reason why they all sported small grins watching us enter.

           A handful, just like her brother.

           We stepped inside the Kingdom, walking side by side, glued to the hip, humming happily. Our footsteps pattered along the flooring, heading towards her room, but I saw the cheeky glances Kiyi tried to steal from the corner of her eyes, studying my figure. She thinks she’s so sly.

           I snickered at her childish behaviour, poking her cheek, “What are you staring at so much, button? Do I have some crumbs on my face?”

           “No~.” Kiyi giggled, tilting her head to the side.

           “Then tell me, button.” I pestered, enjoying her coyness. Her blush deepened, a flush I didn’t notice until now, before poking her one more time, “Tell me, what are you staring at so intently?”

           “You’re smiling again…you’re pretty when you smile.” Kiyi breathed.

           Our paces stilled; my breathing hitched as Kiyi wore the saddest smile on her face. An expression no child should ever have to wear. My shoulders dropped in surprise, not fully processing the words she spoke.

           “Ever since Zuzu got this cold, you’ve been really sad…you must miss him a lot, I can tell.” Kiyi uttered. Her tone dripped with distress, only then noticing where her golden eyes were settled over.

           Men and women dressed in red with badges strapped to their arms. The cross-shaped icon of their insignia standing out amongst their outfit. They were moving around us hastily, clipboards pressed against their chests, giving us quick bows before running through the large doors before us.

           The Infirmary.

           How did I not notice before?

           “I want to visit Zuzu, but Mom told me that I couldn’t. She said that he’s sleeping, but-but he’ll wake up soon…” Kiyi continued, although the more she spoke, the quiver in her voice grew. I breathed in deeply, hearing the pain in Kiyi’s words. Gosh, of course, she misses Zuko.

           They’re two peas in a pod – an inseparable duo. I watched as Kiyi sprung side to side, a whirlwind of emotions flying by. But what pained me the most about this was the fact that Kiyi didn’t know a single thing, the truth.

           A nasty cold – that’s all it was.

           “I’m going to pick some flowers for Zuzu for your bedroom! He loves it when I pick him flowers. Can I do that, Yue?” Kiyi questioned, and I smiled at the positive idea, the ache laced in her tone already lost, a chirpiness finding light. Seeing how quick she bounced back to her upbeat self, pushing past the sad thoughts, the spirit of a Firebender.

           My knees bent, going down to her height, our pupils leveled.

           “Zuko would love that, button.” I whispered docilely, brushing her black locks behind her ear, “Any gift from you would make him smile.”

           My smile grew, seeing how a faint pink painted her cheeks, like tiny pink stars that decorated the starry night. “Yue…can I-can I ask you for a favour?” Kiyi questioned shyly, looking down at her toes, her hands stuffed into her dress pockets. I let my finger dip underneath her chin, compelling her gaze to met mine.

           “Anything button.”

           “I-I made a get-better card for Zuzu in school today. Can you-can you give it to him?” Kiyi requested, pulling from her pocket. My eyes dipped, noticing the little red card appear from her dress, astonished it wasn’t ruined from the juice spilling over her lap. A large sun was painted in front with a smiley face, ‘Get better Zuzu!!!!’ scribbled across.

           The smile from my face flattered, lips parting as I took in what Kiyi asked me to do – the effort she put into this card. She wants me to give this to Zuko? My eyes snapped back to her, taking in the look of pure and utter determination on her face.

           There was nothing more Kiyi wanted at this moment than for her big brother to have this card.

           I opened my mouth to say something – but I couldn’t, lips trembling as I struggled to think coherently. The feather-like footsteps from the maids and nurses around us seemed to intensify, sounding like thunder. Blood rushing to my head as the thought of seeing Zuko’s resting figure tormented my mind.

           Kiyi will be heartbroken if I say no, but Zuko-

           “Button, I-I-” I stammered agonizingly, unable to find the right answer, trying to catch my breath. But the look on Kiyi’s face. Gosh, the similarities in expressions with Zuko, it was baffling.

           I can’t hurt her like this, but to see Zuko after so long-

           A delicate hand fell over my shoulder, like a plume, and Kiyi’s eyes widened in surprise before shooting the stranger behind me a joyful smile. I flinched at the unexpected tender touch over my kneeling figure. The familial grasp accustomed.

           “Avatar Aang!”

           “Hi Kiyi, what are you two doing over here? Planning on visiting your brother with Yue?” Aang spoke light-heartedly from behind, his pitch higher in tone than usual. I could feel the way his hand shifted over my shoulder, his fingers wrapping around my body, squeezing.

           He’s telling me to relax-

           “No~. I can’t visit, grown-ups only. But I made a card for Zuzu, and I want Yue to give it to him!”

           “A card, so thoughtful, Kiyi! It’s been a while since Yue saw your brother. What a perfect reason to see him now.” Aang casually spoke, his playful and cheerful aura shining through. And while any other day I would’ve gushed about how well Aang was with children, my mind focused on the words he uttered. I knew the double meaning.

           “Aang-” I warned with a batted breath.

           A cold sweat started to form on my eyebrow, the fever and impending panic attack beginning to work its way back to the surface no matter how hard I tried to shove the looming emotions away. I didn’t need to look over my shoulder, as I could feel Aang’s usual doe-like eyes boring holes into the back of my head, goosebumps rising on my skin.

           “I was going to see Zuko right now. I can go with Yue.” Aang continued, and I could hear the smile on his face. But despite the casual tone, there was an unspoken sternness. He wasn’t leaving this up for debate.

           Kiyi, utterly oblivious to Aang’s underlying message, squealed in delight. She shot me a great smile, a smile that had my stomach in knots as her tiny hands gripped my own, tugging on my sleeves. The excitement that ran through her body, practically jumping and standing on her toes.

           “Thank you, Yue! You’re the best; I’m so lucky to have a big sister like you. No wonder Zuko says he wants to marry you!” Kiyi gushed, and I could feel my skin begin to prickle. Zuko wants to marry me- “I can wash up by myself, so don’t worry about me, Yue! Here is the card-” Kiyi rushed, shoving the fragile thing into my grip.

           But what caught me off guard the most was the way Kiyi leaned towards me, pressing her puckered lips against my cheek. The feeling of her pouting lips, planting a gigantic wet kiss, had me blushing with happiness. It was adorable, sweet, a gesture that I didn’t deserve.

           “You’re the best; I love you!” Kiyi blurted all in one breath.

           No, I’m not, I’m far from ‘best,’ and even farther from ‘good.’

           “I love you too, button.” I hummed, pressing a bittersweet kiss on her cheek before she pulled away. She glowed at the words of endearment, waving at Aang before skipping down the hallway. I watched as she clasped on her juice-covered dress, giggles flowing from her innocent lips as she danced away, her figure becoming nothing more but a fleeting dot.

           It was Aang’s moderate tap that pulled me away from my trance, looking over my shoulder to see him standing in those mustard coloured robes of his.

           “Let me help you up, Yue.” Aang hummed as he reached, our fingers brushing against each other. He tugged me forward easily, letting me find my footing, as I dusted off my dress. As I patted down, I couldn’t help but let my digits slide over the hand-made card Kiyi gave me.

           The large sun she had painted with a cheery smile, staring back at me almost mockingly.

           Why did it hurt so much to see this card?

           “You’re flushed, Yue. Is your fever back?” Aang worried, stepping closer as he carefully inspected my figure. The further he inched his way towards me, I found myself blinking rapidly, taking in Aang’s appearance.

           The deep circles under his eyes, cheeks a bit more hollow than usual, highlighting his cheekbones in an ill manner. Even his brown eyes that were usually light in colour seemed darker, murky.

           “Aang, you look unwell-”

           “Guess that makes two of us.” Aang laughed under his breath, letting the back of his hand fall over my forehead. His soft skin brushed against mine, sweeping aside whatever baby hairs decided to escape from my current updo. The coolness from his body had me sighing in relief. How an ice bath seems far too tempting at the moment.

           Aang glowered, pulling his hand back, and I couldn’t help but gripe under my breath – my five second-cooling pad gone. “Let’s go see Katara about this fever. You’re burning up; this isn’t good...” Aang started, and I shook my head.

           “Don’t worry, Aang, she’s with Zuko and I-and I have things I have to do,” I spoke, voice unsteady as I tried to sound put-together. Instinctively, I sharpened up shoulders, chin up, trying to appear presentable—the same go-to movements I often did with the other royals and councilmembers.

           Yet the moment I breathed in deeply, back straight, I couldn’t shake the overwhelming feeling of feeling stupid. Standing here with Aang, forcing myself to seem normal, happy, okay, had my whole act in shambles. Because while I was able to put on the perfect façade with everyone, Aang was family.

           The way his shoulders dropped, eyes rounded, and arms ready to embrace – he already knew that I was in so much emotional and physical pain. Every day was a struggle to get out of bed, to eat, to work. I bit my lip, letting my fingers dance with the card Kiyi left behind. I can’t do this.

           I rose it, extending it towards him, “H-here, please give this to Zuko.”

           Aang’s eyes widen, lightly pushing the card back towards my chest. “Kiyi asked you to do this, Yue.” Aang reasoned, shaking his head, and I swallowed dryly.

           He doesn’t get it.

           “I-I can’t, Aang-” I inhaled, and Aang blew, “How long are you going to go not seeing Zuko, Yue. He needs you-”

           “I’m busy-” I struggled, and Aang scoffed, his palms falling over my arms.

           He ran his hands up and down, trying his best to comfort me despite the busybodies swimming by us. And for a split moment, I found myself slowly starting to ease in the act, before Aang spoke once more.

           It was like the room around us disappeared, the people, the noise, everything gone. My vision tunnelled on the way Aang moved his lips, ears listening to his usually airy voice utter the heaviest, heart-wrenching truth.

           “It’s been a week, Yue. A whole week, and you’ve never visited him once.”

           I swore, realizing I caused a dent in the corner of the delicate card from my shuddering hands, hearing Aang’s blunt revelation. A-a whole week?

           A whole week I went without seeing Zuko, and the sense of overwhelming dread weighed down my shoulders, stressed to process the information. I swallowed back a sob, cradling the card to my chest as the space around me felt like it was enclosing, the air too thick to breathe, burning my throat-

           “Yue, watch out-” Aang exclaimed.

           A maid bumped her shoulder against mine abruptly, causing me to wobble in my spot.

           The room spun, Aang’s arm reaching forward, grasping my elbow securely as a means to steady my dazzled state. The maid’s eyes widening in shock as she took note at the way my feet tumbled over each other for a moment, Aang desperately trying to help me find my state of balance.

           “My apologies, Imperial Consort Ying Yue, I was not watching where I was going- Imperial Consort Ying Yue? Are-are you alright?” The lady asked, her brows pinching together as she thoughtfully inched forward. It was then I realized how frazzled I undoubtedly looked.

           My whole body squeezed inwardly, clenching onto the card Kiyi gave me to my chest for dear life. I gulped, nodding my head nervously, “I-I’m fine, please, don’t apologize. I was lost in my thoughts; it’s my fault. I have to go now.” I exclaimed, forcing a smile on my face to the maid as she worriedly nodded and carefully bid her farewell.

           Aang’s grasp on my elbow stiffened, shifting my gaze back to him as she left, “Yue, you need to see Zuko eventually. You promised Kiyi.”

           “I will, just not now.” I wheezed, and the frown on Aang’s face grew, “You’ve been saying that all week.”

           “Because I’m busy, I made a vow-”

           “Work can wait, Yue. You shouldn’t even be working; you’re exhausted. Have you seen yourself?” Aang puffed, shaking his head in frustration as his fingers unknowingly dug deeper into my arm. “You look like you haven’t slept in days, you have a fever, you look sick. I’m worried-” Aang tried to reason, and I grimaced at his words.

           I knew how terrible I looked.

           Every night I tossed and turned in bed. No number of blankets, no number of pillows, not even sleeping in Zuko’s old T-shirts, seemed to do the trick. And those rare moments, where I did manage to close my eyes, were only filled with nightmares. Vivid images of the pained expression on Zuko’s face, him struggling to breathe, the way he looked at me.

           He hates me-

           A shaky exhale left me, “A-Aang, I can’t see Zuko-”

           “Stop punishing yourself, Yue.” Aang snapped, his voice sharp.

           The people around us all stilled for a moment, undoubtedly hearing Aang raise his voice, a tone I have only listened to a handful of times. They stared at us, looks of confusion and alarm stamped on their faces before they cautiously treaded around us, dashing through the infirmary doors, or down the hallway.

           Aang’s face was pink, the grip on my arm constricting as he blew stridently. It was like the emotional turmoil inside the both of us snapped, lashing out towards each other with no real reason. The weight of the whole week, the stress of running around, was eating us all alive.

           I ripped my arm from his grip with a cry, taking a step back as my bottom lip quivered. “You don’t understand, Aang.” I gulped, head shaking as I took another weak step backwards. The way my body trembled, thankful I didn’t trip over my feet.

           It was like all the pain and confusion was evident in my face, Aang’s expression softened, realizing how his temper flared for that split moment. Rubbing his face in defeat, he sighed heavily.

           “Then talk to me, Yue.” Aang pleaded as his voice strained with need, “Zuko needs you so much right now, you’re the only person he’s ever opened to like this. He loves you more than anything else in the world-”

           My breathing hitched, body stilling at Aang’s words. Memories of Mai and I’s interaction a week ago entering my mind-

‘Zuko would never love a monster like yourself. Not after everything you’ve done.’

‘All this drama happened because of you.’

‘If anyone gets hurt, it’s all your fault.’

           My lips parted, a wheezy gasp leaving me as I struggled to talk – as if someone kicked me in the gut. “I need to go-” I said, eyes unable to focus onto Aang, everything around me turning into one giant blur.

           “Yue-”

           “I need to go; I have work I need to do,” I spoke harshly, face impassive as I dodged his reach. Aang’s soft pleas, desperately trying to grab hold of me, the sleeves of my dress slipping through his fingers like water as I twisted on my heel.

           Scurrying through the people in the hallway, hand clasping over the card Kiyi had drawn, my teeth dug into my lips, the taste of iron filling my senses. I need to go; I need to go-

           But…

           I don’t want to go.

             I let out a tired sulk, staring down at the black ink that stained the document before me. My signature looked like a two-year-old drew it, lines shaky and blotchy. What’s wrong with me? It’s like I forgot how to write, the ink practically pooling at the bottom of the page.

           It seemed like instead of spilling the ink all over the desk, like I’ve been doing this past week, I decided to pool it at the bottom of each document I’ve signed. Each paper that I touched with the tip of my golden pen, sporting its own artistic touch of ‘blotches.’ Every hour, the specks and chaos were getting worse.

           Maybe I could play it off as some modern artistic signature style?

           I snorted at my foolishness; shoulders slouched as I hesitantly rose the heavy pen in my hand back towards the paper. My eyes wearily scanned the document, trying to think of any possible way to save the work.

           At this point, anything would do.

           One paper, I just needed one article this evening to have a pretty signature. That’s it. Cautiously, I inched the pen towards my scribbles, biting my lip as I held my breath. And just like that, I swore.

           The sound of wet paper ripping as the golden tip stabbed through, the paper giving way to the sheer volume of ink and pressure. A loud whine escaped me, pen slipping from my grasp as I let my body fall against the desk, head thumping against the wood. Why can’t anything go right for once?

           Papers flew into the air, cascading downwards like fluttering butterflies, falling onto the floor. The unrelenting throbbing of my head grew tenfold. Either from banging it against this wooden desk or the utter frustration that coursed through my veins – my bet is both.

           My hands spread wide, flush with the study, nails digging and scratching at the surface.

           “Get it together, Yue. You’re not going to cry over a damn signature.” I blubbered, lip rolling between my teeth, forcing my eyes shut to prevent that stupid tear from rolling down my cheek. The taste of old blood still lingering on my lip from biting it roughly earlier on in the day with Aang.

           I whipped my head back, sitting upright, forcing my eyes open.

           “Don’t you dare cry.” I hissed to myself, as my chest tightened.

           The room was deathly quiet, only the dim lights from the candles spread about lighting the area. Eerie shadows from the décor scattered throughout the room had a restlessness settling in my stomach, the air stuffy. Every creak of the wooden floors, the flicker of light felt like a spirit hiding in the shadows, ready to lunge and attack.

           The room didn’t feel like home.

           I didn’t get the butterflies when I sat in this chair, skin warm and giggling non-stop.

           Nothing felt like home anymore.

           Because Zuko was home, dummy.

           “D-don’t cry,” I repeated like a mantra, blinking rapidly to stop the tears that so desperately wanted to fall. “It’s a signature, j-just a signature. Who cares?” I reasoned loudly, undoubtedly the guards on the other side questioning my sanity. But the more I spoke, the further my voice cracked, my emotions and logic fighting fiercely against one another.

           Helplessly my gaze wandered about the room, trying to distract myself, anything to push the too real of emotions away. I could hear my heartbeat thumping in my ears, every single thing my eyes settled upon evoking another, stronger emotion.

           The simple door at the other end of the room had me recalling those times I would sneak in here to surprise Zuko during work. The way his face would light up, more often than not, sighing in relief and beckoning me to his side. ‘Just who I needed, my baby’ Zuko would often coo, his hands brushing back my hair, tangling themselves.

           Or what about this desk?

           The number of times I sat on this thing, Zuko and I teasing each other, bantering about nonsense. ‘You’re so needy, love. Always needing hugs and kisses,’ Zuko would complain, only to pull me close. Fitting perfectly between his legs as he planted chaste kisses over my head, whispering sweet nothings.

           I sniffled, nose runny as my eyes fluttered shut.

           ‘Mmm, my one and only, baby’ I could vividly recall Zuko droning into my ear just last week, arms wrapping around my waist, fingers dancing over my skin. His warmth, his touches, his kisses.

           Zuko loved me in those moments, he really did, and I ruined it all.

           “Why now? Of all the times, why do I have to remember this now?” I whimpered under my breath, pain radiating up my nails as I burrowed into the wood beneath me. For days upon days, I drowned myself in work—anything to keep my mind off Zuko, avoiding the Gaang like the plague.

           This wasn’t about the stupid signature, gosh, it was so much more.

           My thoughts ran wild, switching between the happy moments Zuko and I shared, to the look of absolute horror once he realized what I was. But the cherry on top, the gut-twisting moment that had a small cry leaving my lips was Mai’s words that faithful day.

           The way Mai’s eyes looked down from above, an expression filled with sadness and pain etched into her very soul. Her tough shell crumbled for that tiny instant; her winded whisper engraved into my mind.

           ‘Remember, Yue. If you really love Zuko – want the best for him. You know what to do.’

           “B-but I don’t want to go.” I weakly snivelled, confessing that very thing I was trying to ignore. The festering and unavoidable topic at hand, the decision that kept me up at night, the reason why I couldn’t look at Ursa or Noren in the eye. I want to stay here, by Zuko’s side. I can’t hurt him like that, leave him after everything he’s been through-

           But this isn’t about you; a dark voice echoed into my mind; this is for Zuko, his safety.

           But he’s home-

           He doesn’t love you, you’re a monster, forever and always.

           My eyes snapped open once more, vision blurry as tears build up, freely falling down my face. “I’m losing home.” I sniffled, heart aching as I tried my hardest to swallow down my sobs. I didn’t want the guards who stood on the other side of that door to hear me, to feel burdened by my distress.

           Now is not the time to make others worry.

           I just need to continue ruling the Kingdom until Zuko gets better and then-

           Weakly, I wiped the tears from my eyes, taking deep lungsful as a means to control my emotions. My cheeks hurt from the crying, nose a bright red, no doubt, as I wiped the final tear from my eyes. I don’t even want to know how I look like at the moment.

           My vision cleared, a shaky breath leaving me, as I sat straight. Another hour of work and then you can try to sleep this all off. I wiggled my way into Zuko’s chair, trying to find a comfy spot to zone out my thoughts and fix my terrible signatures, only to freeze.

           There, at the very edge of my desk, stood that perfect red card.

           The bright yellow sun smiling at me, Kiyi’s adorable cursive scribbled on the front.

           “Get better, Zuzu,” I whispered, a small smile emerging on my face as the words flew from my lips.

           Memories of Kiyi’s, bouncing from joy in her spot as she said she loved me, that I was the best big sister. Hands shaking, I found them stretching before me without thinking. Leaning forward and pressing myself against the desk, my fingertips grazed the edge of the card, drawing it closer.

           I couldn’t help but caress the soft paper, feeling where the paint stuck, the paper slightly wrinkled. With much care, I brought it close to my face, eagerly musing over every paint stroke, every sparkle, the love etched into this simple card.

           It was funny how the little things in life take up the most space in your heart.

           How a simple card caused the warm fuzzy feelings, the feelings I haven’t felt in almost a week, to appear. The dashing butterflies in my stomach, cheeks glowing in glee, the emotions and reactions that would often appear whenever I was with Zuko. A fleeting moment of complete and utter bliss, happiness.

           I want to see Zu-

           A knock on the door stripped me from my thoughts, jumping in my seat.

           The way my eyes bugged out, staring at the door with my jaw dropped, not at all anticipating such a powerful knock, let alone at this moment. My head snapped side to side, hastily taking note of the mess spread around.

           “Umm, o-one minute, please!” I shouted, mortified beyond belief.

           My hand grabbed the papers that were within reach, almost throwing myself over the table as I greedily swiped all the blotched documents towards me. Shit-shit-shit, where am I going to put all this? And that’s when I spotted the small white bin that stood at my feet, and without thinking twice, I tossed all the papers inside.

           I’ll take care of this mess after.

           “C-come in!” I awkwardly muttered, sniffling as I stared forward.

           A moment of silence fell over me before the front door flew open with a bang. My head tilted to the side, watching with interest as a short man dashed inside. His black clothing made him look like a shadow, making his way towards me as if he’s been inside here countless of times, knowing the room like the back of his hand.

           The door swayed close behind him, the man's hands raised as he adjusted the thick red scarf wrapped around his shoulders and neck. “Fire Lord Zuko.” The man huffed, pulling the veil down his face, exposing his sharp nose, “I have news about Ax-”

           His dark cat-like eyes lined up with mine, his thin pink lips forming an ‘O’ shape as he froze in his spot. We stared at each other, looks of confusion and amusement flashing between us, neither one of us knowing who we were in relation.

           I found my gaze falling over the man’s features, taking note of the faint wrinkles that appeared on his face, his skin tanned. As if he realized that I was studying him intently, curious as to who he was, a faint flush coated his cheeks.

           “Y-you’re not Fire Lord Zuko.” The man buzzed, his tone low and taut.

           I let out a breathless giggle, entertained by the expression on his face.

           He looked utterly taken off guard, stunned, like a confused child. And seeing such an expression on a man who was currently dressed in a skin tight-suit, weapons undoubtedly concealed underneath was such a contrast. I found myself easing in my seat, something in me telling me he wasn’t a threat, despite his harsh facial structures and odd clothing.

           I saw the way he eagerly studied my sitting figure, and like something clicked he quickly bowed, “You must be- Imperial Consort Ying Yue, my sincere apologies-”

           “Please, it’s okay.” I quickly retorted, standing up from the chair as I waved away the formalities. My eyes scanned his face once again, trying desperately to place a name. He seems unfamiliar, I’ve never met this man before, have I?

           “Is there something you need? Fire Lord Zuko is not available at the moment, but I can do whatever I can.” I started, and the man merely shook his head, hand scratching his head. “Unfortunately, I need to speak with Fire Lord Zuko, directly. Do you know where I could find him?”

           My lips parted, a sad smile forming on my face, as I eased my way around the chair, walking around the desk. He doesn’t know- Even the man in front seemed to notice the way my body altered, a sudden heaviness in my step. I let my hand slide down my lap, fixing any wrinkles that may have appeared.

           “Fire Lord Zuko is ill at the moment; I’m temporarily stepping into his role. But if there’s anything I can do-”

           “He’s ill?” The man exclaimed, and I puckered, nodding my head.

           “This whole week…” I spoke, and the man clicked his tongue, running his hands through his hair. He did not want to hear that. He began to grumble under his breath, mumbling incoherent, but I could sense the frustration from him.

           I couldn’t help it, watching over him, feet moving on their own, inching closer towards him: the sharp eyes, sun-kissed skin. Just who is he?

           “My apologies, but who are you, may I ask?”

           He looked taken aback by the question, before chuckling bashfully under his breath. “I promise I do have better manners than this, Imperial Consort.” He droned, shaking his head in shame before giving me a broad smile.

           “I go by Mihir; I’m an informant, I work directly under Fire Lord Zuko’s authority.” He started, and the moment his name left his lips, my eyes widen.

           The beach house.

           I stepped forward, a pout on my face as I pointed a finger, “It’s you. The man who kept calling Zuko when we were on vacation- you kept stealing Zuko from me!”

           He looked taken aback, raising his hands in front of him as he shook, hearing the high pitch in my voice as I squealed. “S-sorry, Imperial Consort. I didn’t mean to bother you during your vacation-” he stumbled, and I huffed under my breath.

           “It’s fine, knowing Zuko, he made you work. That man doesn’t understand how to relax.” Gosh, if Zuko knew I stuffed the bin to the brim with paperwork, he would’ve killed me.‘Hiding paperwork doesn’t make the work go away, love’ I could already imagine Zuko grumbling, hearing his voice vividly in my mind. I smiled to myself despite the annoyance.

           Zuko would pinch his nose, and then complain about how the papers are all wrinkled-

           “You know Fire Lord Zuko well.” Mihir chuckled under his breath, a blush creeping onto my cheeks as I realized I zoned out for a moment. I timidly brushed whatever hairs fell from my ponytail, biting my lip as I looked down at the floor.

           “I admire his work ethic, even though it drives me nuts sometimes. There isn’t a day where he isn’t doing something, improving himself or helping others. I-I always adored that.” I rambled, mentally slapping myself. Why is it that, whenever Zuko is brought to topic, I find myself blurting another thing I adore about him?

           Mihir mused at my words, crossing his arms, “Fire Lord Zuko…he talks about you…a lot.”  My gaze snapped upwards to meet Mihir’s, a gentle smile on his face.

           He didn’t seem like a man who smiled often, but it suited him. Even though every expression of Mihir’s had this stoutness to it, I couldn’t help but notice the softness in this man’s soul. I think I know why Zuko trusts him.

           “I guess I’ll come back tomorrow. Hopefully, Fire Lord Zuko feels better and can arrange a moment with me. I’ll leave so you can go see him now, give him my regards.” Mihir spoke, and my head tilted, raising a brow.

           “What makes you think I’m seeing him now?” I blurted, confusion written on my face. Mihir chuckled, raising his scarf over his face, “Because you’re holding that ‘get better Zuzu’ card.”

           His cat-like eyes were the only visible part of his body, stepping back as he placed his hand over his chest, “And based on the way you’re holding it, tight and close to your heart, shows me it’s important. That you care and worry about Fire Lord Zuko, maybe even more than you realize.”

           He bowed from his waist down before opening the study door, just a crack – slipping through like the wind. It softly shut behind him, leaving me alone in the middle of the room. My mouth dropped, looking down at my hands to realize Mihir was right.

           This whole time…I-I was holding the card.

           The sun smiled back at me, and I couldn’t help but smile again, no longer experiencing that mocking feeling like I was earlier in the day. “A promise is a promise…” I whispered, and I twirled on my feet, walking towards the candles that littered the room.

           My lips puckered, blowing out each one, dashing. The way I spoke to Aang, the promise I made to Kiyi- I don’t want my time here to end like this, on such a sour note.

           I want to see Zuko – one last time.

             Thumbs twirling, a large pout settled as I waltzed down the red hall, the infirmary just around the corner.

           My dress rustled as I walked, the clicking sound of my heels, bouncing off the walls of the almost wholly deserted Kingdom. One or two servants would come down ever so often, smiling sweetly before continuing on their way. They all bore tired expressions, ready to go home for the night, until tomorrow.

           I pressed the card Kiyi made close to my chest, hands shaking slightly.

           The moon was high in the night sky, admiring the reflection it drew on the water in the pond. Despite the distance, I could spot the faint ripples, turtle ducks calmly floating below the waterfall, enjoying the chill air the Fire Nation had to offer.

           Another puff left me, lost in my thoughts as I continued on my walk, eyes settling upon the flower petals that fell from the trees. To think that just hours ago, I was under a tree, the hot air and beaming sun radiating upon my skin. Now an odd sense of peace filled the air, the children's laughter, the women’s gossip just remnants of time.

           One more walk in the gardens with Zuko.

           I would’ve loved that.

           The warmth of Zuko’s hands in mine, his fingers rubbing the skin between my thumb and pointer, humming our soft tune. Or maybe us playing in the water with Kiyi once again, Iroh and Ursa laughing in the background, shaking their heads in amusement.

           “Yue?” A voice breathed, so light, quieter than a whisper, that for a moment, I thought I imagined it. My brows pinched together, raising my hand to my head as my pace flattered. Did I- am I so tired I’m hearing things right now?

           I shook my head, scoffing to myself.

           My eyes burned, throat rough as I swallowed hard. The events of the day had my hands cramped and body aching. “Get it together, Yue,” I grumbled under my breath, forcing my feet to move. I let my hand drop from my forehead, resting it along the palace walls – pivoting to turn the corner before I stopped abruptly in my tracks.

           “Yue.” The voice spoke again, this time louder, more forceful.

           This isn’t my imagination; the voice is coming from behind me. I twirled in my spot, a small gasp escaping me as I soaked up what I saw. The stunning mix of yellow and blue, a large wooden stick in hand-

           “Aang.” I breathed, reviewing his figure up and down.

           He stood there, posture hunched, and unlike this morning, where he seemed tired but overall refreshed, now he looked utterly drained. The way his eyes sulked and the grip he held over his staff, loose. Dangling from the tips of fingers as he stared back at me, his pupils wide. Is he just coming back from work? At this hour of the night?

           “Aang, you’re just going to bed now?” I announced, unable to hide the worry in my tone.  Aang awkwardly scratched his head, laughing under his breath while nodding slowly, “Mhm, I had some paperwork I had to review for Republic City.”

           “This late?” I questioned; my hands firmly pressed over my chest.

           Aang opened his mouth before shutting it, the corner of his lips tugging upwards as he coolly leaned on his staff. “What about you, Yue?” Aang started, wiggling his eyebrows, nudging his head to the side as if to emphasize the fact that the moon was high in the sky.

           “It seems like someone else is just going to bed.”

           I bite my lip, shaking my head, “I’m not going to bed just yet…”

           Aang glowered at my words, pushing off the staff that he was just resting on, back straightening. “Where are you going, Yue?” Aang voiced, “It’s late; you should be resting-”

           “I'm going to see Zuko.”

           The air between us stilled, hearing him take in a sharp inhale, stilling in his spot.      

           His mouth agape, gawking as he let the words, I uttered, seep in. Expressions of astonishment and disbelief flashed by his face, unsure which emotion to settle upon. I couldn’t fault him for feeling as shocked as he was. For a whole week, I refused to see Zuko, no matter how often they begged and asked. But I can’t say no anymore; I want to see him so bad, be greedy and selfish and see him-

           Reservedly, I shifted my hands from my chest, presenting the get-better card Kiyi gave me earlier in the day to him. It was like the card jerked Aang from the conflicting emotions that tumbled inside him, seeing his sandaled feet moving forward.

           “Yue, if you’re not ready to see him, you don’t have to.” Aang concerned, brows pinching together as he anxiously stepped forward. “I can give the card, right now-”

           “Aang, I’m sorry for pushing you and the Gaang away.” I snivelled.

           The trembling in my hands grew, teeth digging deep into my swollen lips as I drove the card further into my chest. My nails pulled at the silky fabric of my dress, fighting back the tears of remorse.

           The way I treated Aang earlier was sad, but it wasn’t just today. It was ever since Zuko fell ill. It was like I couldn’t look at anyone in the eye, not even Sokka or Katara, without feeling guilty. Overwhelming shame and burden, despite them not holding what happened to Zuko against me.

           But I was also lying to them, not telling them the truth of what happened that terrible day, the extent of my bending.

           “I was so mean to you, and I’m sorry.”

           “Yue-” Aang sniffled, and I felt his arms wrap around my body, pulling me into a tight embrace.

           I let my head snuggle in between his neck and shoulder, chest rising and falling between my heavy breaths as Aang fussed into my ear. His lips pressed against my head, a smile dancing as he held me close. A whole week I went without a single hug from anyone, without any form of affection. I was forcing myself into complete isolation beside any business meetings.

           To have someone hold me close made me realize how lonely I felt. How much I wanted a hug – to be held.

           “I’m sorry too. I should’ve have lost my temper like that. I just-” Aang started, pulling away slightly, our gazes meeting as we stood close. I saw how round his eyes were, cheeks a pleased flush as he spoke. “I can’t stand seeing you hurting yourself, Yue. Take all the blame and hurt when you deserve to be happy.”

           “I just want Zuko to be safe.” I sighed, raising my hand against my nose for the hundredth time today. Aang hummed knowingly, “Come on, I’ll walk you to the infirmary, and then I’ll let you be.”

           “A-actually, Aang…” I stuttered, cheeks turning rosy, “Can you come with me? I-I don’t want to do this alone.”

           The way Aang beamed as if I told him that Appa could, in fact, fit inside the Kingdom and sleep in the same room as Katara, him, and Momo. He let his hand rest over the small of my back, glowing ear to ear.

           “I would love to go with you, Yue.”

           I stepped back from his caring touches, taking a deep breath as I looked down at the card that sat in my hand. The red of the paper practically radiating under the dim candlelight of the Kingdom. The last thing I’ll ever do for Kiyi-

           “We should hurry,” Aang spoke sympathetically, “You look exhausted, but I know seeing Zuko is important for you, Yue.” I could feel the way he put light pressure on the tips of fingers, nudging me gently. Within seconds I found ourselves walking, Aang letting his staff twirl in his grip as he watched over me out of the corner of his brown eyes.

           With every step we took, the beating of my heart grew.

           Blood rushing, skin warm as goosebumps rose.

           Despite the chill air of the night, I was sweating, the sound of paper rattling between my grasp embarrassingly loud as we marched. The mental gymnastics that ran through my head, torn between running to Zuko’s side or hiding in the comforts of my blankets. I want to see Zuko so bad, but what if Mai is right? That he doesn’t love me anymore, and the last thing he wants is a visit from me.

           My lip rolled between my teeth, letting my gaze wander to our right as we turned the corner. For a split moment, I saw how the turtle ducks huddled together in the pond. The babies adorable squished together heads resting over each other, as their parents loomed over them. A family…

           “Don’t think for a second Zuko doesn’t want you there with him,” Aang spoke.

           I titled my head, snapping my gaze towards him.

           Aang continued walking ahead, the grand wooden doors before us a few steps away. People with crosses embordered on their sleeves, walking in and out of those doors. The air around them was calm, but I could tell a few of them looked surprised to see us this late in the night.

           “You really think…Zuko wants me there, Aang?” I whispered.

           I could hear Aang snort, giving me a side look filled with personality. “Yue, I didn’t want to say this…” He started, and by then, my head was spinning, realizing that right before us was the entrance.

           Aang’s hand rested over the door, look heavy as he slowly faced me, “Katara told me that sometimes Zuko whispers your name in his sleep.”

           My bottom lip quivered, hearing those words, Aang’s hand dragging along the wood. But he wasn’t finished, laughing lightly as he seemingly remembers the conversation between him and Katara. “Every time he says your name, he smiles. Katara said it was creepy seeing him that happy.”

           I couldn’t help but giggle, rubbing my eyes with the ends of my sleeves imaging it.

           From first-hand experience, I already knew that Zuko was prone to smiling during his sleep. Also, prone to holding me to close to his chest so that the slightest movement from me caused his arm to lock, holding me in place. And don’t forget about sniffing my hair, whispering ‘vanilla’ under his breath far too many times to count.

           Tugging on my sleeves, now stained with wet droplets, Aang glowed from above, “Now, Yue, you make do with that information as you will. But I think we both know what it means.”

           “Aang…” I breathed between my stuffy nose; voice soft.

           “Yes, Yue?”

           “I-I’m ready.”

           “Let’s go then, Princess.” Aang teased with a cheeky smile, pushing the door.

           The door creaked, the high pitch noise sounding louder than usual, given how quiet the palace hallways were at the time. Right away, the nurses who were busily working inside turned their heads towards our direction, shooting us enormous smiles. They waved excitedly, energy-filled in their actions.

           “A beautiful night, Imperial Consort,” they happily sang, before going back to work.

           I pressed a smile to my face, whispering my soft greetings as I pressed the card closer to my chest. I couldn’t help but notice how clammy my palms were, if it weren’t for Aang’s guidance, I would’ve undoubtedly froze in place at the door.

           My eyes scanned the area, the chandlers lighting up the large room, the grand windows opened, and curtains pushed back to allow the calming breeze from outside to enter. Fresh flowers and bright paintings decorated the space as a means to keep the atmosphere up and going. And the further I walked, taking in every detail, down to the colours of the candles, I couldn’t help but wonder.

           Was this how Zuko felt that time when I was in here?

           Just as nervous, anxious, to see me after the waterfall incident? I could recall how flustered Zuko appeared. A look of exhaustion washing over him as he stood before me. The way he rushed to my side, cupping my face before placing a kiss of pure desperation over my lips- my cheeks flushed.

           Why would I think of something like that right now?

           Aang’s hand fell over my back once more, rubbing gently as I jumped in my spot.

           “He’s over there, behind that curtain, where the guards are,” Aang spoke, nudging me where he pointed with his chin. As if they heard, the guards carefully lifted their helmets, bowing slightly with warm smiles before moving off to the side. Their helmets fell back over their faces, quietly discussing amongst themselves, giving us space and privacy.

           My knees were wobbling; every step I took felt like rocks were tied to the soles of my feet, the ground sand as I struggled to move. The reality of the whole situation hitting me all at once. You’re fine, Yue.

           This is fine, you’re fine-

           The curtain that isolated Zuko from the rest was now right before me. A dark velvety red fabric, dragons imprinted all over. The point at which the curtains met swayed lightly with the incoming breeze, and I could feel my breath catching when I spotted the end of a metal bed through the momentary crack.

           He’s right here, right behind this curtain-

           My hand reached naturally, fingertips feeling the soft fabric slip in between each digit. It was like everything was moving in slow motion, the overwhelming need, want, to see Zuko.  I missed him so much.

           I need him; I want to see him-

           Hastily, I drew the draping back, the curtain swaying dramatically with my movement. I clenched the card tightly to my chest, eyes rapidly scanning the space, and just like that, my arm limply dropped to my side. My shoulders slumped, body shuddering, hand falling over my mouth as an uncontrollable sob erupted from me.

           “Yue?” Aang worried from behind me, his hands squeezing over me with care.

           It was at that moment I realized I wasn’t moving, too busy studying over the handsome sleeping figure before me – Zuko.

           His long black hair was neatly brushed and scattered over the scarlet pillow he rested upon, hands over his heart as his chest rose and fell with every breath. The way the moonlight shined through the large windows behind him, painting his skin with a heavenly aura – almost spirit-like.

           Those pink lips of his that I adored were parted, loveable sighs leaving him as his head slightly leaned to the side. It was like last week never happened, his expression so peaceful, sleeping without a worry in the world. The red blanket that laid over his body stopped short of his chest, his milky skin bare.

           Zuko- he looked healthy.

           Part of me imagined Zuko’s appearance to have withered slightly. His face to have sunken, cheekbones prominent, and his physique smaller. How wrong was I. Zuko looked like he gained weight – shoulders broader than usual, the divots on his arms from where his muscles lined abnormally defined. He was even freshly shaven, skin clear and dewy.

           Small breathless giggles left me, unable to contain the relief of seeing Zuko looking nothing short of perfect.  “Yue-” Aang voiced once again, and this time I turned on my heel to look at him.

           “He’s okay.” I cried, and Aang’s expression softened the moment he realized why I was crying.

           I wasn’t shedding tears because I was upset but relieved.

           Zuko looked so healthy, completely untouched, as I wiped my nose messily on my sleeve. “K-Katara took such good care of him; I owe her so much. I-I couldn’t have healed him as well as her if it weren’t for you and the Gaang being there for him-”

           Aang’s hand brushed my face, cleaning my cheeks to the best of his ability as I let my tears flow. “I told you, Yue. We’re family. We love Zuko too. If you think Katara was going to let her best friend fall ill because some bad guys wanted to hurt you, you doubt our bonds.”

           I smiled, choking as I sniffled, turning my head back to Zuko. He looked so happy, “T-thank you. For everything. For coming with me.”

           “I’ll always be here, Yue. Now give him that card. He may be knocked out cold, but I’m sure he’ll be happy to see it when he wakes up.” Aang happily blubbered, standing at the far corner as I carefully made my way around the bed.

           I couldn’t pull my gaze away from Zuko, watching him as he slept, it felt like my heart was going to burst. Was it creepy to stare at Zuko this excitedly while he slept? Probably, but I couldn’t stop myself. I missed him so much.

           Carefully I rose the card, lips moving silently as I cumbersomely. “Katara told me that he could most likely hear us, Yue…I bet he would love to hear your voice.”

           My voice…?

           “Z-Zuko.” I shakily started, carefully placing the beautiful handcrafted card on the wooden table that stood right beside him. A few vials and bowls of water with towels laid there – tools for Katara whenever she was healing or checking up on Zuko quickly at her aid. If it weren’t for Katara’s Waterbending skills, who knows what would’ve happened to Zuko.

           “Zuko.” I breathed once again, smiling softly as I inched my way closer to Zuko’s bedside.

           I watched as Zuko’s eyes moved under his shut eyelids at the sound of my voice so close to his body, a deep sigh, leaving him for a moment as he continued sleeping. My hand outstretched over his, hovering, fighting the temptation to feel his skin against mine.

           “K-Kiyi made a card for you; she misses you….” I whispered, and I saw the way Zuko’s expression changed the more I talked. His brows pinched together slightly as his head tossing towards me side, another long exhale leaving him. It was like in his sleep he was searching for my voice, his fingers tightening its hold on the blankets that laid over him.

           I weakly smiled, and without thinking, my hand rested of his.

           “I miss you,” I whispered, tears falling down my face as I anxiously held my breath.

           The greed took over, my fingers dance over his soft skin, basking in the warmth. It was like a current ran through me the moment our hands touched, the sense of familiarity and happiness bursting at the seams.

           “I miss you so much. I miss your hugs and cuddles and smiles, and-” I had to stop talking, struggling as my words rushed. My digits laced with his, my skin tingling, butterflies in my stomach from being so close to Zuko after so long.

           “I’m sorry you got hurt because of me, I’m sorry for not telling you the truth. I’m sorry I didn’t do more.” I cried as I let my other hand wander, trailing up his chest to his neck. I winced, feeling the rough patch of skin nestled at the base of his neck. There was a small scar now, a darkened patch of skin from where I sliced.

           Forever a reminder, and I swear I could feel the scar that rested along my jaw tingle.

           “I promised myself that I would never hurt you…” I whimpered, leaning over his bed, unable to stop the temptation to get closer. My hands cupped his face, thumbs caressing his pouting lips. “I promised Iroh, your mom, Kiyi, everyone that I would take care of you. I made that vow to myself the moment I met you.”

           My eyes fluttered shut, face rosy, all self-restraint gone.

           Leaning over his body, hair falling over our faces as my lips gently brushed over his. The feeling of his soft, plump lips pressed against my swollen ones, tears tumbling over his skin.

           “I hope you find someone who can keep that vow better than me, Zuko. Who will love you more than I ever could. Who will bring out that stunning twinkle in your eyes. I want you to be happy Zuko…”

           “Yue.” I heard Aang cry, and I carefully pulled back, noticing the way my salty tears dripped down Zuko’s cheek, tainting the stark burn on his face.

           “One last kiss.” I dejectedly cried, taking a step back, my fingertips grazing his skin before leaving. The moment my touch left him, I could feel my heart ache, hands cupping my mouth as I tried my toughest to shush my tears.

           “What do you mean by one last kiss, Yue?” Aang worriedly questioned, stepping closer to my trembling figure.

           It’s time I come clean.

           “I-I never you, what Mai said to me.” I sobbed, and I could feel Aang’s arms wrap around me, holding me close to his chest as his hands ran up and down my back. He cradled my face into his neck, shaking his head at my words, “What did she tell you, Yue?”

           “S-she said that the reason Zuko got hurt is because of me.” I started, spluttering harder as my sight became filled with nothing more but tears. “I-if I leave, t-then Zuko will be safe. No harm will be done.”

           “Yue, you can’t believe her, she could be lying for all we know-”

           “But what if she isn’t, Aang?” I huffed, pulling away to stare at him.

           Tears swelled in Aang’s eyes, wiping his face with the back of his hand heatedly as he looked down at me. “Maybe she is lying, Aang. But I prefer to take the risk, then have Zuko get hurt again because of me.”

           “I-if you leave, Yue.” Aang broke, his voice cracking as the grip on my body tightened. “Zuko would look under every damn rock for you. Go to the ends of the world looking for you. You think he’s going to let you go, Yue? Walk out of his life after how much you’ve changed him?” Aang argued expression hurt as he took in a shaky breath.

           “Zuko loves you so much. I shouldn’t even tell you this, but Zuko is already thinking of a hundred and one ways to propose! He told me that he wants kids, he wants a family, asking me what good diapers- damnit Yue!” Aang huffed, pulling me back into a tight embrace as we cried silently together.

           “This whole week, you’ve pushed us away, carried the burden of that knowledge. You wanted to see Zuko today, not because you stopped blaming yourself, but because you wanted to say goodbye.”

           “I don’t want to go, Aang, but I don’t want Zuko to hurt anymore.”

           “You’re going to hurt him by leaving.”

           “But, I’ll be hurting him more if I stay.”

           I pulled away slightly, looking to my side to watch as Zuko laid in bed. The tranquil expression on his face at the moment, I couldn’t have wished for a better lasting appearance to see. Every memory we shared, forever locked in my heart for years to come, because no one can steal those recollections away from me.

           “I thought Zuko was the one, Yue,” Aang whispered into my ear, and I rubbed my nose, smiling to myself. “Zuko is the one for me, always will be. But I’m not the one for him. I don’t think I ever was…”

           “So, is this it? Are you just going to leave us? Me, Katara, Sokka, Hakoda-”

           I winced, shutting my eyes as I shook my head, “I’ll leave as soon as Zuko wakes up. I made a promise that I’ll take care of the kingdom for him, and I want to keep at least one promise.”

           “Where will you go, Yue? I-we-but-” Aang raged internally, stepping back before running his hands over his hand. His fingers pressed against the skin of the blue arrow along his head, expression panicked. I could tell from the look in his eyes that his mind was swirling, unable to focus.

           Carefully, I stepped towards Zuko, grabbing the blanket that laid over him, and lifting it. I tucked the warm fabric, snuggling under his chin, a bittersweet smile painting my face as I took in Zuko’s features one last time. “I love you, Zuko, I can’t even begin to express my feelings. There aren’t enough letters in the alphabet to string together a word strong enough to tell you how much I love you.”

           I pulled away, letting my hands clasp together, nails causing crescents into my palms as I swallowed back the next wave of weeping. “And I want you to know, Zuko, that no matter how much you hate me, are angry at me, I’ll still love you. That will never change.”

           Turning on my heel, I faced Aang, whose face was swollen, nose a bright red as he weakly grabbed the staff he let rest on the wall.

           “I-I think it’s time I go to bed now…” I quietly spoke, and Aang nodded, using the tip of his stick to pull back the curtains to lead to the outside world. But he didn’t move right away, his eyes locked with mine.

           “Aang?” I asked, and he sighed, forcing a smile on his face.

           “I can’t stop you from leaving, Yue. This is your choice, your journey. But I hope you know that while everyone may be nervous once they learn about your bending, you’re still you. You’re still Sokka and Katara’s sister, Toph’s drinking partner, Suki’s shopping pal, and my best friend.”

           “Thank you, Aang.”

           “I’ll take you to your room, and I hope tomorrow, by some miracle, you realize that Zuko will love you, regardless of how you view yourself. And that you have every right to stay here with Zuko, and have the family you always dreamed of.”

           I could feel my heart swell, Aang outstretching his hand towards me, a poignant smile on his face. Right away, I grabbed his cold hand, our fingers intertwining, letting ourselves relish in the bittersweet moment. His hand squeezed tightly, before beginning to move, and I looked over my shoulder quickly.

           “Goodbye, Zuko.” I hummed, taking in the finest of details as if I didn’t already know each and every mark on his skin—the shape of his nose and lips, even his ears. But my eyes narrowed, only noticing too late the fresh tear running down Zuko’s cheek.

           A tear that was undoubtedly not present a moment ago.

           My feet stuttered, and as I eagerly tilted my head to get a better look, to make sure it was not my eyes playing tricks, but it was too late. The thick curtain shut, red flooding my vision. This is really it; I said my goodbye.

           Without any of other words spoken between Aang and me, we walked side by side, our hands swinging as Aang silently guided me to my room. The nurses and guards all said their share of goodnights, not daring to ask as to why our cheeks were as red as could be, our voices coarse and eyes puffy.

           Tiredly, we inched our way down the hallway, rubbing my face as I took in every nuisance of the kingdom. How many more days do I have left, walking down this hallway before I go? Soon the I won’t ever hear the clicking of my heels when I stroll in the mornings or the happy greetings of the servants.

           We turned the corner, my eyes lighting up as I spotted two guards at the front of my bedroom—two people who I knew far too well at this point. I turned to face Aang, our eyes meeting. An unspoken connection hitting us both as Aang drew me in for one last hug.

           “Goodnight, Yue. And how I hope, more than anything, I see you in the morning.” He wished before pulling away. We shared one last look before he begrudgingly turned on his heel. His yellow robes flowed behind him as he let his staff dance in his grip, eagerly walking towards the waiting arms of his dearest lover. Bringing my arms up to my chest, I hugged myself.

           Thank you.

           “Imperial Consort Ying Yue?” two voices spoke, causing me to twirl.

           With their helmets now off, I couldn’t hide the short moment of happiness seeing them this late at night. It really is them- “Ah, hello, friends~!” I sung, waving with a small yawn as I inched my way towards them.

           They smiled back, but I couldn’t help but notice how forced their smiles seemed, their bodies tensed as they shared anxious looks. I pouted, tilting my head to the side as I looked around. Aang was already long gone, no one in sight. What could be upsetting them?

           “Is everything alright?” I asked curiously, and I had to raise a brow at the way they nudged each other in the stomach.

           “You tell her.”

           “No, you do.”

           “I didn’t let her enter.”

    ��      “She’s a Princess; I can’t exactly say ‘no.’ And you were there with me, why didn’t you say anything?” They bickered with each other. My head snapped back and forth, watching how they grumbled under their breath, like two school children bickering. It was literally like watching Katara and Sokka fight, just older and from the Fire Nation.

           I let out a small giggle, shaking my head, children.

           “Can someone, please, tell me? I promise I won’t get mad.” I urged, crossing my arms over my chest. At the sound of my voice, they stilled, nervously shifting in their spots. I gave them a look, and that seemed to do the trick. Both of blurting out what they didn’t want to say, “Princess Kiyi is inside your bedroom. She says she wants to sleep in your bed.”

           My eyes widen at the news, staring at the large bedroom doors.

           K-Kiyi?

           I opened my mouth, only to close it once more.

           This was strange.

           Kiyi was undoubtedly a cuddlier, loved to spend time with everyone and anyone. The star of the show, able to capture the hearts of many with her positive and addictive attitude. Sometimes Zuko would go to her room and read books before she went to bed, often coming back to the bedroom and telling me how these children’s books were ‘cringy.’

           But to have her, in our bed, saying that she wants to stay the night had me in a whirlwind. It was so unlike her. She loved snuggling, but she was one independent cookie – one who went to the beat of her own drum. Processing their words, both of them gawking over me, trying to figure out if I was upset at the news.

           “Did she give a reason why she wished to stay?” I asked, and they nodded eagerly, “Something about a card?”

           “Oh-”

           “We can go and ask her to leave, Imperial Consort, we shouldn’t have let her stay in the first place-”

           “No,” I spoke up, raising my hand and gently placing it over theirs.

           Their breathing hitched, unsure if I was about to get upset, but I quickly flashed a smile. Shaking my head because suddenly, it made sense, remembering the sad smile on Kiyi’s face from this morning when she spoke about Zuko.

           She was just as upset and worried as everyone else about the whole situation. Just because she was a child, and didn’t know all the details regarding the situation, didn’t mean she didn’t pick up on the depressive tone from us all. Just like how I needed a hug, I bet Kiyi needed one too.

           “Do me a favour, please, and let Lady Ursa know that Kiyi is with me tonight. To send a maid in the morning to wake us, so she goes to school on time.”

           They both nodded, letting out a breath, “We’ll go right now, Imperial Consort.”

           “Thank you. Have a nice night.”

           “You too.” They smiled before bowing.

           I turned on my heel, facing the bedroom doors, my hands falling over it. With one fluid movement, I eased my way inside, only for the corners of my lips to curve upwards.

           What a sight.

           There Kiyi sat, in the middle of Zuko and I’s bed, pillows around her as she held the teddy bear Zuko gave me tight to her chest. The blankets were perfectly nestled under her chin, her beady eyes glowing under the warmth of the candles. “Button?” I cooed, and I could hear Kiyi enthusiastically squirm under the sheets.

           “I was waiting; it’s past bedtime.” She smugly retorted, and while I didn’t see the look on her face, I already knew she had a huge grin.

           “Oh, I’m sorry. It’s just that this room here I’m pretty sure doesn’t belong to you.” I teased, stepping inside as I let the door shut behind me. With ease, I pulled at the elastic that held my hair into a high pony, mewling with delight as it fell. All the tension in my scalp, releasing as my hair draped over my shoulders.

           Kiyi watched in awe as she sat up, her mouth hanging, “Your hair is so long and pretty.”

           “Compliments won’t work on me, button.” I pestered, grabbing one of Zuko’s old T-shirts that was draped at the end of the bed.

           With the shirt in hand, I eased my way to the bathroom, letting the door open just a crack, so I could hear the way Kiyi buzzed on the other side. My hand rubbed the back of my neck, another yawn escaping me before my eyes settled over the mirror, taking in my appearance for the first time in a while.

           I looked exhausted.

           The dress I wore seemed oddly loose about my hips, fingers a bit boney, and cheeks sullen. Dark circles under my eyes and back aching from hunching over the desk all day, staying up all night only to wake up bright and early. I let my hands run through my hair, trying my best to shake out the tangles, too tired to brush.

           With a tired sigh, my fingers danced to the front of my dress, beginning to undress.

           “Yue, where did you get this teddy? He’s so cute.” I heard Kiyi gush and laughed softly. “Who do you think, button?” I responded, letting the red fabric fall onto the floor.

           My hands grasped Zuko’s old shirt, easily squirming my body into it. It was massive in size, stopping near my thighs as it bagged over my body comfortably. His warm spice-like scene still etched into the fabric, like cinnamon.

           “Was it Zuzu?” Kiyi shouted, and I happily smiled with closed eyes, “You bet it.”

           In a matter of minutes, I cleaned myself up, patting my face dry with a towel and wiped the last drop of my cream onto my leg. My hand reached for the door, ready to step out, but I stilled for a split moment, catching a glimpse of myself once more in the mirror. A sad smile reaching my eyes knowing that I saw Zuko today, even if it were for the last time.

           As long as you’re safe, Zuko, that’s all that matters

           “Which side do you want, button?” I questioned, forcing my pitch to be higher than usual, a weak attempt to appear cheery. With my hands on my hips, I stopped at the foot of the bed, gazing over at Kiyi with tender eyes.

           Kiyi brought a finger to her lip as if thinking deeply of the question. Her cute brows scrunching up before her lighting up unexpectedly, “Where do you sleep?”          

           “On the right,” I answered, and Kiyi grinned.

           “Then I want to sleep right-” Kiyi droned before rolling underneath the blankets and stopping abruptly, “here.” I giggled at Kiyi’s silliness, taking note where this little ball of trouble decided to sleep.

           “As you wish, button.” I hummed under my breath before walking towards the left side of the bed.

           My fingers dragged along the warm covers, eyes setting over the pillow and nightstand that rested. The unfinished book Zuko had left sitting over the table, the candles still fresh and unused for the past week until today. And while Kima and Lia even dusted his side, creating the illusion as if space has been used, I swallowed back the sadness.

           I didn’t dare touch this side once, opting to curl myself into a tight ball, sticking too far right.

           But now standing here, pulling the heavy covers back had me entering a joyful trance. If I thought wearing Zuko’s shirts gave me flashbacks of pure bliss, letting my body dip into the bed, head resting along his pillow had me turning pink. It felt like home, the closest I’ve been to him for days, and if it weren’t for Kiyi’s giggle, I would’ve laid here with a goofy smile plastered on my face for hours.

           I twisted my body, pulling the blankets over us as Kiyi wiggled her way closer to my body. Her legs wrapped themselves with mine, letting my arm drape over her frame as she rested her head on my shoulder. My lips danced along with her temple, placing a sweet kiss, “So button, tell me, something. Why did you come to my bed tonight?”

           I heard Kiyi shyly huff, before mumbling softly, “Because I miss Zuko…”

           A low sigh escaped me, placing another chaste kiss over her. “He misses you too, button. I know when he gets up, he’s going to give you tons of hugs and kisses, especially after that card.” I cooed against her forehead, hand caressing her face.

           Kiyi sniffled, nodding slightly as she tugged the blankets closer to her body. I could tell based on the way her body didn’t squirm as much anymore, that sleep was starting to get the best of her. I wonder how far it is past her bedtime? Hopefully, she gets the rest she needs.

           “Yue…” Kiyi quietly spoke, her voice so low that I had to force myself to hear her properly. “Do you ever get lonely without Zuzu around?”

           My mouth opened at her question, pulling her body closer to me as I thought. I’ve never felt lonelier in my life until now.

           “Of course, Button, but guess who decided to surprise me in my bed, it’s like a cuddle party.” I chirped under my breath, trying to keep my tone down. Kiyi giggled feebly at my answer before a tiny yawn left her lips.

           I rose a brow at the adorable yawn that left her, reminding me of the cute sighs Zuko was letting go as he slept. “Is someone tired?” I whispered, and I could hear her pout.

           “No…I-I can stay up a bit longer...” Kiyi argued tiredly, but as I pulled back, I snickered under my breath.

           Kiyi’s eyes were droopy, struggling to stay open as she snuggled the teddy bear close to her chest. I let my hand brush her black locks behind her ears, carefully moving her head from my shoulder onto my pillow. Without much protests, just a tiny whine, Kiyi curled into a ball, head sinking into the cushion.

           “I love you, Yue.” She whispered sleepily, and I beamed, tucking the blankets under her chin. “I love you too, button. Thank you for always bringing a smile to my face.” I hummed, before slowly inching my way back, sitting upright for a brief moment to blow out the candles that lit the space.

           The room darkened, only the moonlight seeping through the curtain, casting shadows. But this time, the shadows – didn’t feel as scary.

           I pulled the covers over my body, settling onto my side as I let my arm drape over Kiyi’s resting figure. My heart twisted into knows, joy filling my soul, as the light from the moon cast just enough illumination for me to see the tranquil expression on Kiyi.

           My hand rose, gently caressing her chubby cheeks, her lips parting as her breathing evened out. She’s precious. Soft snores escaping her as she snuggled deeper into my hold, blankets enveloping her body.

           “Goodnight, button,” I whispered into her messy hair, my own eyes falling shut.

           I don’t want to leave. Not Kiyi, or the Gaang, Iroh or Ursa…

           But most importantly, I don’t want to leave Zuko.

           My breathing began to even out; mind spacing as my body felt heavy. Sleep beginning to consume my body, enjoying the way my muscles relaxed. How long has it been since I’ve been able to ease into such a calm state?

           Lost in the peace, the gentle sounds of the door opening, footsteps pattering was dismissed as nothing more but a dream. The current state of nirvana, mind floating, disregarding the way the blankets shifted over my body. Probably Kiyi getting comfy.

           Intuitively, I squirmed in my spot, bringing the covers closer to myself, head sinking into the pillow. A comforting warmth was spooning me from behind the further I fell into a deep sleep, as if two large arms were holding me from behind.

           I smiled softly because there wasn’t a doubt in my mind who I was dreaming of. The way their hands cupped my own – fingers rubbing my palms as their legs tangled with both mine and Kiyi’s.  

           “Zuko.” I weakly called, because the dream felt so real. As if he was right behind, his face pressed into my hair, his hot breath tickling my ear. Even his overwhelming firewood scent filled my scenes, eyes rolling to the back of my head despite my eyes shut because it was the smell of home.

        ��  “Shh, baby. Just sleep, I got you.” I could hear him drone into my ear, my heart pounding because I could feel the way his chest rumbled from behind. It was crazy, how vivid this dream. But my body too tired, to relaxed, to move and make sure that I was in fact, dreaming, let the doubts in my mind go.

           Enjoy the dream, Yue. Your first happy dream in days.

           “Zuko…” I sighed in harmony, snuggling my body deeper into his embrace. Right away, the grip he had on my body tightened, cooing into my ear, “Yes, love?”

           “I’m…sorry. I don’t…I don’t want to go.”

           “Then don’t.” he quickly replied into my ear, a raspiness in his voice. I let out a small sniffle as I instinctively pulled his hand to my chest. “But…I…I want…you safe.”

           “I’m safe, right here, with you in my arms.”

           “I… I love you.”

           “I love you, too, Yue,” Zuko whispered once more before my mind drifted completely.

           And for the first time, in days, I slept.

           With the biggest smile on my face.

Copyright © 2019 Mystic-Kitten-Writer, inc. all rights reserved. No reposting, modifying, or translations of any kind allowed. Thank you for your cooperation.

Disclaimer: I do not own any Avatar characters portrayed in this story besides Ying Yue Jiang, Lia, Kima, and any future creations.

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