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memurfevur-archive · 1 year ago

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Hide and Seek Part 2: The Bronze Girl

Character(s): Athena Uyilst, The Hidelord (@mageofspacemultiverse)

About: As Hidelord hosts an auction, a few visions of the future weigh on Athena's mind: a traitor, and a slave girl. Things don't exactly go to plan, though, and Athena finds herself with blood on her hands.

CW: graphic NPC death, blood, ask to tag

Hide and Seek Part 1: Song and Dance

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I stepped through the threshold as someone I was not, dragged by a leash fastened in the Hidelord’s hand. I kept my eyes on his back and my mouth closed. Anxiety threatened to grip my heart the closer we got to the merry-making that would welcome us below. I am not a stranger to parties, but I abhorred the ones Hidelord hosted.

A crowd had slowly filtered in: his close friends and fellow hunters with their best slaves, drinking from brown bottles and legs propped up on 'foot-rests'. They hollered and howled when we had walked in, a party effectively declared. Clove and holly dried in the window. Ribbons attached to the ankles and wrists of dancers waved to the music, loud to mark the festivities. Faces twisted in unappealing smiles, and the guests’ laughter almost sounded like an execution. I tried not to show my disgust as their spittle flew; a few rare droplets landed on my shoulder. It was worse than a circus here.

Beyond the thin, cramped opening that we walked through was a set of stairs leading to an old beech tree chair lavishly coated in layers and layers of high quality lusii fur. A gavel made from some poor troll’s horn perched precariously beside it. Hidelord guided me over, then gave a kiss to my knuckles before taking a seat. After waiting a moment so that his kiss could feel like the burning of bleach on my skin, he motioned for me to make a new perch on his lap.

"What...a...night. Welcome, you freaky fuckheads." The Hidelord welcomed, to another round of cheers and smirks from monsters just like him. "Yesterday we hunted; today, we feast on our spoils. Until then, see to it that you keep things entertaining."

Around us was a drunken revelry, one of the not-so-few occasions that this chalet would host a gathering. An auction, rather; a celebration of spoils and some chance to make wealth. I cast my eyes away from the guests manhandling available slaves, favoring to pretend it wasn’t happening at all. There’s no room for compassion here in this land, not unless there were strings attached, and I no longer had the power to intervene like I used to on the Mainland. In this existence as a bystander, I could only be thankful it wasn’t me, though I was not blind to the other warlords’ hungry looks. It was because of them, actually, that I had requested to sit upon my lord’s lap before our arrival.

My legs draped over the side of his throne as his hands rested beneath the thin cloth that hung very loosely over me, a protective but perverted claim to my body. I suppose it should’ve been obvious that I was his favorite asset, not that anyone else needed to know. The illusion of social politics is what makes the difference between life and death here in the Safari. The more someone is feared, the safer they are; if there’s ever a glimpse of weakness-- say, having a lover-- then the respect someone has for their fearsome leader would be gone. Leaders here must show a lonesome and gruesome independence to the likes of nothing that I could compare. Lovers, friends, children, anyone below a warlords rank: they’re all dangerous liabilities that could burn entire chalets down. There were not often exceptions.

Now you have someone like me: a dying breed, and with a gift for seeing the threads of time. A dangerous woman helping the stronghold stay strong, while playing the role of a fragile pet. A slave that could whisper suggestions into their crude warlord’s ear. It would be enough to set his throne ablaze. So we hide our song and dance from public eyes, and I kept my vow vigilance that he so greedily craves.

While looking away from the chaos of the party, my eyes landed on a particular warlord. The world around me had begun to drop away, and I was no longer myself. It was like I had been pulled underwater; the world shimmered and quivered around me, dusted in red. I knew what this meant, but whether I stood in the shoes of myself or someone else was always hard to tell-- but this man now before me became covered in blood. There was eagerness in his eyes, sparks of betrayal and a cruel smirk. Green stained the ground around him. I could feel my heart fall to my stomach. A slave stood by, trembling and crying. Bronze.

Then, I blinked, and a new scene played out before me. The same man, covered in blood but yellow instead of green. His body torn open, patches of skin missing from his body, and his face twisted in pain as agonized tears streamed down his face. A horn was broken. I could feel my pulse racing, and my hands began to twitch as if it could feel the texture of the horn that was once there. Anger. I felt so much anger….

I gasped and quickly sat forward, waking myself from these living dreams. We’d been in concert long enough for Hidelord to know my little signals, the lurch of my visions, the loyalty of my scent-tracking. He beckoned a servant to bring him drinks, playing the at-ease ruler without brains, but he surveyed the room with a cool intensity, looking to spot the piece of the puzzle that didn't fit quite right. There were a few that caught his attention, I could tell, but which one of them plotted was not too certain to him. As the drinks were brought over, he murmured to the troll: a sea-dweller dressed in wool rags with a bone piercing in his eyelid. This servant oversaw both gossip and the keys to the Hidelord’s personal zoo. The Hidelord knew how to play strengths, and before long he shooed them away. "Well?" His brows were expectant even as his words said little.

"You're the trapper, my dear turning knife. I will tell you when it is time. Preemptiveness does more harm than good, I have learned." I lowered my voice more, reaching back to trace a finger lightly across his throat. His eyes narrowed. "There are two possibilities. You're negotiating an asset, sharing her, and in your ecstasy you wouldn't even notice your throat cut. Or, you open theirs, covering her in their blood. Though I suppose this would give them away, once you begin to discuss your wares during this time of celebration, hm? Once someone touches it, is willing to give their life for it, you will know."

I felt a haze then, as if another vision was threatening to take me under again. A third possibility, but one I cannot see. Or, perhaps I had read my visions wrong? My lips pressed into a fine line as I turned back to glance at the crowd. The man was no longer where he should have been. I settled back into the lap and chest of my master. A few fingers parted through the locks of my hair, and Hidelord paid for my counsel with an unseen kiss to my temple. "A golden opportunity. Leeches must be cut out before they sink their teeth in too deep,” he murmured, "We'll show them our own form of ecstasy, won't we? Steal the smiles from their faces, the vigor from their bones?"

He held the glass of blood-red wine out to me, taunting me with a smirk. I did not refuse the wine, instead letting it wash over my parched lips as I drank from the glass in his hand. It was welcoming; a cool refreshment in a stale and warm atmosphere. Instead of licking the traces of wine off my lips when I was done, I brought my lips to his so he could sample, and when I pulled away he scraped his teeth against my bottom lip. I could feel his eyes linger on me as I turned away to look back at the crowd. He settled back more, letting the rhapsody spill out around us as we waited for the opportunity that I’d spoken of, his hand on my thigh just above the knee. Our song and dance, unknown to drunken eyes.

An hour and half seemed to pass at a lurid gait, until the heavy front doors jittered open and in sauntered a train of more slaves from the Hidelord's zoo. The zoo was its own form of hell: a great maze of cages just out back upon the sun-burnt cliffs. His eyes passed over each of his prizes, his potential products in turn, the fourth one drawing his-- no, both, of our gazes magnetically for a moment. Her outfit was beyond modest, and though her shoulder sank with accepted sadness, there was a glow about her. His chin tilted up in acknowledgment, and he took the horn next to the chair and gave it a quick bang across the top of the wooden chest, witnessing the whole of the party-goers go hush in preparation for his announcement.

"Well, well, well." He taunted the line of product, clutching me gently to him as he absorbed the fear they emitted and waved the guards that carried her over. "That umber would make a great deep color, don't you think, Athena? The tanning beneath the skin stiffen with heat, turning it a deep caramel. I could make you a handbag." I quietly scoffed with a scowl and said nothing, disgusted and with now prying eyes I am without the right to truthfully speak out against his taunts.

Instead, I studied the Bronzeblood within the cage. Her skin took on a soft hue of orange in the dull cascade of the sunset behind her. Her hair was long, matted, but the way it fell down on either side of her head framed her slender face well. She was beautiful, and everything about her matched my vision. I steeled myself for the trauma that was to come. I was to not care about her, just as I was to not care about any other servant in this building. No one survived being selfless in the Safari.

"You're privy to my domicile, you bastards and lepers, and you will be again!" Hidelord greeted to a harmony of snickers, "Now, as is typical, we have some lovely treats for you to occupy, if your wallet can take it. Eight prizes to do with as you please. To have a look, however, I offer free of charge." He scanned the row of patrons, splitting a grin and sipping at his cocktail. "Are there any takers? .......Nnnnooo? Well, perhaps-"

"I 'ant da one on yur lap 'ere, Hidelord!" A man with half his teeth missing cawed with a laugh, gesturing at me with his cane and licking his chops. My blood immediately ran cold and my stomach twisted in knots; I pressed myself tighter against my master-- my protection. The Hidelord rolled his eyes, cheek slouching against his wrist.

"Has there been a day that's gone by where you haven't asked for your piece, Haumme?"

"Ol take care 'er like you 'uldn't belief!"

"Shut your fuckin' trap. You're a groundskeeper. For the amount she's worth you'd have to take the teeth of everyone in this room, and then times that by four thousand, and lick the Grand Highblood's taint, and only then would you be halfway there." The dissenter's face soured and he grumbled into silence, and I couldn’t help but smile to myself.

Others with genuine offers soon stood and pressed their claim. The to-be-culprit caught my gaze when he stepped forward, venom evident in his eyes as he leered as though to say 'the hell are you looking at', before standing to make a claim of his own. "So much excitement!” Hidelord laughed and shook me, as if to get me to laugh along with him. Few transactions were made as time passed by slowly. I kept my gaze down to avoid the hungry eyes of strangers. I tried spacing out, thinking of anything but being here, so I wouldn’t have to listen to the survivor’s guilt that clawed at my stomach. I would be rattled to the present everytime Hidelord howled his laughter. I could not remember what time it was by the time the auction went on hold.

“Now, ladies and gentlemen, we'll discuss these purchases upstairs after the feast, no need to disrupt the celebration. I'll settle bidding wars, and let you tour your treats more properly." He chuckled, and the others bowed slightly in acknowledgment before the music fired up again.

In through the door after the cages came spits of roasted bone-in meat, dripping gobs of fat glistening from the flames, and great wood platters of hacked onions and vegetables. Patrons drew forward with their knives and carved their bits, some fighting to get the pieces they wanted. They ate with their hands, chewing into gristle and flesh and organ meat, wiping the blood and grease on their clothes. A servant brought the Hidelord a plate of his own, but he ignored it for now.

"There’s game to catch first,” Hidelord growled, “what do I seek, Athena?" His hand toyed with one of the knives on his belt, eager to let it feed on traitor blood.

I didn’t answer him. Fate was not mine to decide, not anymore. I learned long ago that no one could fight what was to come, to deny the inevitable. I tried not to think about that night and all the ones that followed. I tried not to think about the night I lost her. It can’t be helped; someone will be dying tonight. I scanned the crowd and once more my gaze landed on the warlord from my vision, brows furrowing and body tensing as he came closer to Hidelord’s throne. This was enough to quench Hidelord’s curiosity.

He picked up on the signal, looking sidelong for a moment before quickly turning his attention back. Hidelord spoke with his tone light; friendly, but shadowed by threats. "Jembra, you bitch, the party would've been better with you not around, pestering me for more than what you can fucking chew.” The troll who had approached the middle of the room, standing before the remnants of the roast, wore a symbol: though it was imprinted in a brand on his shoulder and embroidered on the ascot around his neck - like two swords crossing paths. The sunglasses over his eyes hid a pale amber-gold caste, and his stomach was fully obscured by pale-white dressings that may have even extended further down his legging-adorned lower half. A large C-shaped scar, long healed, drew from his upper chest to the side of his neck, and a pinky finger was missing at the joint. "And I’ll ask again. Somebody needed to see to our defenses," Jembra lightly deflected, a reedy and political color to his voice. "You mean, see to my assets?" "It's not against the code to chase yours, old friend." "Don't lecture me on the code, okay? I made the fucking code." Jembra glanced at me for a second, hands in his pockets, likely taking hold of some weapon. I could feel bile rising in the back of my throat, my fangs lengthening as my lips threatened to curl in a feral hiss. I bit my tongue to hold myself back.

"Point taken." His head cut upwards, breaking contact with me, "speaking of chasing, care to tell me about her? You know which kind I like."

The Hidelord swallowed his tongue, but his muscles tensed as he took a glance at the brown-blooded troll. Hidelord shooed me away off his lap, then gestured for the girl to be uncuffed and brought over to kneel at the foot of the steps. Jembra took a step forward and the Hidelord cracked the fingers on one hand, ready to vanquish the would-be-usurper...but not without patience.

My eyes lingered over the slave in question, cowering with tears streaming down her face. I learned long ago that this was the art of war. Once upon a time, that had been me cowering in a barricade as people laughed and touched, as if I was nothing but cattle. I felt pity for her, but I would sooner dissociate than feel the willpower to cause a change. That power wasn’t mine anymore. I turned to take a seat on the cushions at the foot of Hidelord's throne which were often reserved for his most prized slave, usually. It was rare that I wouldn’t be the one to warm them. As Jembra and Hidelord neared her, the Bronze whimpered and barked out a word that by now was almost foreign to me. My insides felt colder than the fear the other warlords put in me. "Akabri!" Akabri. A Vaelari word for something akin to mercy. A plea. A prayer. It felt as if all my breath had been taken from me. Vaelari. My birth people, long since wiped out by the Empire’s need for control. I knew I shouldn’t have, but I could not control the words that came from my mouth, and in my desperation I foolishly ignored the curious stares from the other warlords. These sounds, sounds that I have not spoken in sweeps, tore my throat raw: "Ebuto shiua! To ebu shiua!” You are heard.The Bronze girl began to tremble and sob out more Vaelari, matching my intensity. I had not even noticed the hot globs of tears that fell off my cheeks until I received a look of agitation from Hidelord. I immediately closed my mouth, fear making bile rise in my throat. I’d messed up.

All the background chatter and ambient noise faded to the chorus of a well-dead syntax filling the lodge. I could feel Jembra’s eyes on me, taking a glance as if it suddenly dawned on him that my presence was worthwhile.

"Well isn't that something? Them two know one another, do they?"

"I wouldn't know. Don't remember giving her permission to speak, though. Damn nuisance. She'll be lucky if I don't-"

"That isn't just speaking, that's understanding. I could use an interpreter." Jembra's rotten teeth almost glowed. "Name your price."

"Not for sale."

"Really now? I wouldn't say I agree." He scuffed his boot at the foot of the stairs, sending the Bronze shuddering. "You're a reasonable business-troll, great Hidelord, and everyone has a price. And to me, there's something...sweetly exotic about it. Your little bird could help me learn." He lightly, yet overtly commented. The Hidelord was not amused. "Didn't you hear the last bat-shit vagabond who asked me? Whatever price you want to match-"

"I'll give you my Lime. You remember Saphic? You're not going to turn that down, are you? For an endangered line you'd be insane, she's 500 teeth."

As the Umbre continued babbling, Hidelord's eyelid twitched, and he motioned to his guards. "For the love of the seven hells, someone shut this bitch up. Heat the brand, gag her, fuck if I care, but she's harshing the vibes in here."

"We're in the middle of an acquisition here! Leave her to speak, chum." Jembra quipped as two larger trolls approached but immediately wavered at Jembra’s gesture. "Besides, that was a poorly veiled distraction. You know, I don't think we've ever gotten to see this slave's blood first-hand.” Jembra gestured at me, and my eyes widened. “What is she? Based on your defense I'm guessing… Rareblood? No, maybe someone pretty damn important. Why don't we all find out...?" I fell silent at Jembra’s foolish threats. I tried to hush the Bronze girl to try to dissuade the others from harming her, but my attempts were fruitless. With a sigh, the Hidelord grabbed the Bronze by the hair and threw her into Jembra with a roar. If it was one thing I knew, it was that no one should feel comfortable with threatening anything of his.

The swaggering traitor caught her, stumbling backward, and Hidelord threw a dagger into the troll's foot, catching the slave's side as it flew through the air. Both shouted, but the Hidelord didn't relent, and he quickly hoisted Jembra up the stairs on his back.

I lurched forward and caught the Bronze and held her, comforting her, quieting her cries as we spoke our tongue. This was not how it was supposed to go. This was not what I saw in my vision. I cast a look over my shoulder as Hidelord grappled with Jembra. As I watched them I whispered to the Bronze, telling her to hide if she could. This had turned personal.

I turned and saw Jembra reach for the knife, and Hidelord not having a clue, thinking himself won.

I hesitated, between letting it be and intervening. I shouldn't intervene! I should have learned by now that I couldn't change fate. I couldn’t do it to protect my brother, I couldn’t fight it to protect my matesprit, what chance would that change now for someone who claimed me as nothing but property? Hidelord's future was his... but did I have a future without him? What would happen to me here without Hidelord's protection? I thought to all the hungry warlords that undressed me with their eyes. Fates be damned, what use was a lie if it was dead?

With a deep breath, I readied myself and sprung. I landed on a table, then immediately propelled off of it and onto the wall where I ran just above the crowds’ heads. Jumping from that point, I pounced, not unlike a cat. A predator. A monster. My hands wrapped around Jembra's throat, snatching him from Hidelord's grasp. I could feel eyes fall on me in disbelief, but I could not care. I lifted Jembra high enough above the ground so his feet weren't touching, my nails digging into his flesh. I took the knife from his foot and threw it aside, leaving him with no spare weapon to scramble for. For me? I didn’t need one. I grabbed one of his horns and, effortlessly, ripped one of them off. I felt the chitin and sinew of nerves snap in my hands, and when I dislodged his horn I immediately rammed it into his gut.

While he shrieked in pain I grappled the man so that he was over my shoulder, my hands still clasped around the horn. As I threw him over my head the horn sliced through his skin, ripping him open and causing blood to spray everywhere. The body crashed against the wall with a sick, wet thud. I heaved in every breath, drinking it like water, growls and snarls escaping me like a feral beast. I will keep my protection. Hidelord will not die today. I spat at Jembra’s body, cursing at him in Vaelari.

The sound in the cabin was mute, as all the onlookers’ stares landed on me. All the guards and the lords and the slaves. Hidelord included, too. I looked up at him, looking for something: acknowledgment, approval.

But instead what I was met with was the back of his hand meeting my cheek, holding nothing back. His chest heaved as he stashed the knife and retreated back to his chair, taking the glass of wine from earlier and taking a few long swigs. I stared after him as the sting caused unwanted tears to well up in my eyes. His back was turned to me when he spoke again. "Guards, two of you. Take her upstairs. I don't want to hear that awful gibberish again, and if she keeps talking help her forget it. I'll deal with her later. Two more, take all these back to the zoo. Sales are closed for tonight. One had to ruin the fucking party for everybody. The rest of you can finish your meals and ales and fuck yourselves home." He turned to one scuttling assistant with glasses too big for his face and a long gray apron. Hidelord gestured to the strewn corpse. "I doubt he's salvageable, but see what you can do. If you get some life back in him, I'll make him wish he were dead later. If not, slop for the boars, they'll be happy for a fresh meal. And if you all have any questions, shove it." He cast one look back at me before taking his seat again. I shouldn’t have felt hurt. This was the song and dance, but a well of bitterness churned in my stomach, as two guards came and picked me up by the arms. A cast a glare at Hidelord, but that quickly lost its flame and I lowered my eyes to the ground. They dragged me up the stairs and dumped me in Hidelord’s study, buried me in fists and kicks, blood and bruises. Then, they were just as quick to abandon me to their posts right outside the door.

I settled myself against his desk, pressing my back against it and pulling my knees to my chest. I could feel the bruise forming on my cheek, no doubt a ring on his had made a haunting impression. Frustration built up in me, and I lashed out at the ground with my fist-- leaving that aching now, too.

I had been face-to-face with my past, and I could do nothing to save her. I had acted out of line and saved Hidelord’s pathetic ass, but I was to be punished for it. And above all, my visions failed me.

The music picked up again with far less vigor, and it was not ten minutes before he came storming up the stairs, near-snarling for the guards to watch downstairs for any dissenters. The door slammed open as the sound of footsteps landed outside.

The great Oliveblood shook his head with a grimace, pulling out a bag of ice and tossing it on the ground in front of me. "That's for your face, bitch. If I didn't punish you in some way right away, it would've turned into a fiasco down there: owners calling for my head or dragging you out into the Safari with the others. What happened, Athena? What in the Gog fuck happened? You said to wait for a signal and then start spewing nonsense out of your good-for-nothing government beak!"

There was frustration in his eyes. Power-hungry fury, yes. His voice was deep and bellowed with guttural anger. But there was a hint of something else that was unfamiliar and out of place. Fear? Since when was the mighty Hidelord afraid?

I didn't pick up the bag of ice, basking in the pain for a moment longer, but then surmised that I might be punished more if I didn't accept his help. I reached for the bag and pressed it to the bruise.

"...She was my kin," I said, wincing at my voice cracking. "We came from the same lands. The same people. The same family that the Empire you all so gleefully ignore wiped out. We were the Vaelari, or Fae as they call it. I thought my brother and I were the only survivors." I slumped back with a grunt, tilting my head back to lessen the pain. "I shouldn't tell you any of this. You'll just see it as another fucking dollar on a price tag. Or tooth. Or whatever the hells you fuckers use. Art of war or whatever. I wish I could be so ignorant."

He crumpled into his chair by the window again, hunched over and brain working. There was a stretch of silence before he spoke again. "......I'm not gonna pretend I understand what you're feeling. Doesn't serve either of our interests for me to, either. But okay. That, that at least, doesn't make what you did entirely ass-backwards.” My brow quivered at this sudden show of sympathy. Right. Songs and dances can feign emotion, too.

“Don't underestimate the power of a price tag, though. If what you're saying is true and she's endangered, that makes her an asset. Not a troll to just throw away to anyone with a few funds." He met my gaze for a moment. "Someone I can keep in the chalet. You understand?" The Hidelord shook his head and in a surprising move, shed himself of the long jacket that was his calling card. "...I've never told you how I made this coat, or at least not the specifics. It really isn't yours or anyone's fucking business, but after tonight's little display, I don't exactly have a choice in the matter. "I've been with bitches before, and I know you know it. I grew up in the Chalet, it was built on Atalis soil by Atalis hands. Labored in and out for a commune, a place of trade without chucklefucks breathing down our necks. My ancestor had it stolen by another lord when I wasn't even pupated, and I took it from another cuck some time later, but the place has never changed, and neither has the code." He didn't meet my eyes anymore as he ran his hands along the sleeves. "My first mate was named Imniks. She was everything to me. The body, the spirit. She was a soft thing though, plucked from a pillowcase. Squishy, overt. Tried to stand up to a rival lord once. Well, he left and gathered the others and waged war on us, vowed to take my Imniks, have their way with her, and make her watch as they killed me. Burn this place to the ground. She was weak… so I gave her up to save everything that meant something to me or the others.

"But you," his pupils seared into the wall, "you aren't weak. You're made of stronger stuff. I'm not looking to give up another and I don't think you're the kind to make me, but I've been here my whole life. You haven't... They'll want you thrown in the Safari for this, and I'll do my damndest to keep you out of a real cage, but if you think your bitch ass is going to get both of us killed because of the life that kicked you to the curb, you better right reconsider your perspective."

His voice was even and scarily calm despite his clear anger, as though romanticizing his past struggles with these trolls took the energy out of him.

I glanced at him briefly, taking in his story and his words and studying him without the coat. I wanted to argue, to say that they couldn't have any influence in what he did with me because I was his, but he was right. He knew this place better, and I should know better than anyone that politics is one hell of a field to traverse in.

But, his praise surprised me. Strong? How, when I had given up on life so long ago? His words made me reconsider; if I was weaker than what he claimed, I wouldn't be able to survive here. I wouldn't have been able to match him blow for blow my first day here, prompting him to spare me. Maybe there really was a fire still in me? How long would it be until those embers would go out, too?

Despite the sting of blood that dribbled into my eyes, I ignored my body's screams as I shuffled to the Hidelord and kneeled. Humility was a powerful thing to offer, sometimes greater than a life. "You are right. I was foolish, reckless. Do what you will to punish me, and make it believable, so what respect I robbed of you will be returned."

His hair hung wild across his shoulders, which shook along with his head. A thin sickle split his cheeks, armed with teeth. "You're a crazy bird. They heard enough to be calmed for tonight. I can't promise tomorrow won't sting, though. Jembra's people will want blood on their hands. I'll see what kind of middle ground we can find." When the Hidelord spoke of middle ground, it usually meant killing a few more trolls to supplement the losses. "Lilac's hard to bullshit, though. Then again, I'm sure you can foresee what I'm gonna do, so don't get all defiant on me. It's just business."

I pressed my lips together, not liking the sound of that, but I nodded along. There was a knock on the door, and the Hidelord quickly strode over and peaked around to see a servant carrying his food from downstairs. Keeping the door mostly-shut, he took the plate with a snarl, taking a fistful of meat before putting it down on the ground for me. His teeth worked and ground flesh into pulp as he nursed the idea of what he was going to do with his prize. From outside came drunken moans and howls and screeches that I wasn’t sure were lusii or troll in nature. "But I'll keep your Fae-shmae bitch around here for now, since you ended up saving my life. Frankly killed two wingbeasts with one bloody fuckin' stone; Jembra’s always been a damn rat, but he knew better to consider a play like that. And, if they can put blood in ‘im and make him squawk again,” there was a glint in his eyes, strange and eerie and wanting. "Maybe I'll show you how to skin the bastard.”

Silence filled the block for a while. There wasn't much worth talking about anymore. No bravado, no tug-of-war for dominance; not tonight. Guards didn't care to enter, nor were there demands for explanation. He never pressed for details about my life in these moments, when things were calm and there was no face to put on. Sometimes if the silence got unbearable, he'd ask what I wanted. Tonight though, there was none of that. He only polished his knives, eventually lighting a cigar for himself to smoke. The sounds of the howls and hoots would emerge from the Safari, somewhere far away from the small shred of troll-manity they were encased inside, though even those faded as the darkness began to lighten.

When he'd gotten through his whole belt, he stood and flicked his ashy blunt into an ashtray, then stretched and cracked his back. Hidelord’s eyes lingered on me for a few heartbeats, face even and giving away nothing. "If you want to sleep, sleep in the chair. Not sure if you're risking a hunt today, but either way...good morning." Briskly, the warlord left to his bed and pulled a curtain closed behind him, leaving me alone with my bruises and thoughts.

"Good morning, dear turning-knife.”

I glanced briefly at the chair, then greedily took to it knowing that it was better than nothing. As I curled up in the chair, I brought my knees to my chest and hugged myself tightly. I missed the warm arms of a loved one around me and the feeling of safety without the need of keeping one eye open. I missed friendly company with no strings attached; I missed the sounds of everyday life outside my door. But then I wondered if this was really any different than what my life had been on the Mainland. The Hidelord was just another Grand Highblood, but with green in his veins instead of purple, and having the cruelty of pretending that he cared.

And once again, not for the first and certainly not the last time, loneliness lulled me to sleep.

#Hide and Seek #Trapper and Trader #Athena Uyilst #The Hidelord #fevur writing #character death #blood #violence #ask to tag

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thewildomega · 4 years ago

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My kind of Different (Dwalin x Reader)

A/N: A/n : Okay So I have decided to give Dwalin some more love because he deserves it. Also just in case anyone doesn't know Dwalin was born after Samug's claim of Erabor and also he is the last member of the company to die in the books, he dies way after the war of the ring. He lived to the whopping age of 340 which is a long time for a dwarf. Also Look at this cool fanart I found on deviantart, isn’t he so badass looking. The Artist is Mental-Lighton (link included so go check them out.) There is a lot more work as well, I really like the way he captures Saruman as well. Anyway Hope you enjoy. Please like, comment and reblog.

Throwing his knife at the hare he let out a curse under his breath when he missed the shot, the hare taking off in a sprint deeper into the forest. Growling he stood and moved to grab his knife from the ground. Whipping it off on his pants leg he lifted his head to start walking when two bright golden eyes stared directly into his making a small yell escape him and his feet stumble backwards a bit. Panting he looked towards the thing, expecting it to be a monster of some sort but what he saw made his brows dip low before knitting together in confusion. It was a girl, a young girl.

"Whatcha doin'?" you asked the boy as he stared at you.

Continuing to stare he blinked and then rubbed his eyes. He had to be seeing things. There couldn't possibly be a floating girl there. She was just hanging there upside down, looking at him. Moving his hand he indeed saw her still there. She looked to be a few years younger than himself, her face of soft features. Long wavy silver hair that looked to be glowing hung towards the ground from her head and what looked like thin elf ears poked out from the sides of her head a little. Looking closer though he noticed two shinning blue things behind her and he tilted his head, were those wings? "What are ya?"

Turning back right side up you looked the boy over and grinned, "I'ma fairy silly."

Opening and closing his mouth he gave another look at the girl. She still floated a few feet from the ground, her simple white dress hanging on her tiny frame to end at her knees. There were no shoes on her feet but he supposed she wouldn't need them if she coudl fly. Glancing up to her face he saw her still smiling at him and noticed now her sharp canines. Overall he couldn't say she wasn't pretty even if she was weird looking. When she suddenly was right in front of him again, her eyes equal to his he felt a blush heat his cheeks and tried to take another step back but bumped into a tree. Staring in her gold eyes he saw no ill intent there only curiosity.

"So what are you then?" you asked as you eyed the obvious boy. He had thick dark brown hair covering his head and even a ghosting of long sideburns going down to his jaw. His eyes were a bright blue, matching your wings. His nose and ears were a bit big but you liked them, they fit him. His clothes were thick and dark, made of furs and leather. There were a heavy set of boots on his feet as well.

"I'ma dwarf." his voice full of pride.

"I've never met a dwarf before. Do you all look alike?"

Standing still as she floated around him, looking over every part of him but never touching the ground he took a deep breath. "No. What kinda question is that, do all fairies look alike?"

Flying back straight you looked at his face, "No.. well I do have two sisters that look alike."

"Twins." he huffed and saw her nod with a smile. Figuring she wasn't a threat he relaxed a bit and started walking, he was still hungry and it would be getting dark soon. As he walked he glanced beside him to see the girl right beside him.

"So whatcha doin'?"

"Huntin'." Seeing her head tilt at that and her brows knit he rolled his eyes, "Ya know fer food."

"Oh. Whatcha hunting for?"

"Anything that will fill m' belly. Now be quiet or I'll never find anything." he told her and saw her nod. He found it odd that the girl kept following but at the same time he couldn't help but enjoy her presence and couldn't bring himself to tell her off. She didn't say anything else as he walked quietly through the forest, the both of them just looking around. When he heard the small noise of rustling leaves he looked around and stilled when he spotted another hare. The thing had yet to notice him as it hopped along and he slowly took out his knife.

Looking at the small animal you smiled largely, it was so cute. As it hopped along you even spotted a few smaller ones following close behind her. Seeing movement out of the corner of your eye you turned to he dwarf but when you noticed him holding a knife you furrowed your brows, your smile falling from your face. What was he doing? As his arm moved back behind his head you snapped your eyes between him and the mother hare, your heart hammering in your chest.

As soon as he went to throw the knife the girl yelled out 'No!' making him startle and the hare hurry under ground. Growling he gripped his knife in his hand and snapped his eyes up to the girl. "What the hell ya do that fer?!"he growled.

Shirking up some as he yelled you looked up to his angry face and furrowed your brows. "You were gonna kill it?"

"That was the plan aye!"

"B..but why?" you asked in a soft voice.

"Ta eat it, why the hell else?"

"You eat them?" you spoke in a whisper, talking mostly to yourself. Looking back to the hole the hare had went into. "But if you were to kill her then her babies would die, there wouldn't be anything to take care of them."

Letting out a huff he rubbed his face, he hadn't seen the little ones behind it until it had ran but still the painful clenching in his stomach made it hard for him to feel pity. Looking to the girl he just now noticed she was no longer flying and that she was now standing on the forest floor in front of him. Now that she was on her feet he noticed how small she actually was, coming up to only his chin. There was no longer a smile on her face and he couldn't help but feel bad as he noticed her looking sadly towards the hare hole. Sighing he put his knife back up "Well it got away so 'er lil ones will be fine... unlike me if I don't find some food." he said grumbling the last part.

Hearing this you tilted your head and looked up to the dwarf. "You're hungry?"

"Was the whole point of huntin'." he said like it should have been obvious.

Humming you looked around before quickly flying away.

Seeing the girl fly away without a word he knit his brows. After standing there for a few minutes he gave a grunt and started walking again. Thinking over the whole ordeal he shook his head, "Weird girl." Looking up to the sky he saw the sun going down, he would have to head back to the settlement now. Walking on for a bit he felt something to his left and looked to see her back beside him, smiling brightly.

"Here you go."

Glancing down to her hands he saw she had them full of blackberries. Raising a brow he looked back to her and saw her just smiling. Sighing he reached out to take one and popped it into his mouth. It wasn't the meat he was craving but he had to admit they were good. She continued flying beside him as he walked back towards his people, holding the berries as he ate them but never once eating one herself. "Don't you want any?" he asked but saw her shake her head. As the lights from the tents came into view through the trees he went to speak to her but a harsh breeze stopped him.

Hearing the deep, angry voice calling through the wind you curled up some and then looked to the dwarf. "I have to go now."

Hearing the sadness in her voice he knit his brows and watched as she dumped the berries into his hand, noticing how small her hands were in comparison to his. Meeting her eyes once more he felt this strong pull in his chest and saw her grin at him before another sharp wind cut through the trees and she looked down, her shoulders curling in on her small frame.

"Goodbye." was all you said before you took off towards home.

Watching the girl turn into a small dot of light and shoot across the sky he blinked. Glancing down to the berries he ate another as he moved towards his parents tent.

"There he is."

Hearing his father's voice he looked up and saw both his mother and father looking at him.

"We were about to go looking for you." Balin said with a grin. Looking down to his little brother's hands he saw the berries and chuckled. "No luck on the hunt then?'

Shaking his head he felt as his mother rubbed his head.

"Next time you'll get something for sure. Don't worry darling one day you will be just as good of a hunter as your father." she spoke, looking to her husband with a gentle smile.

Seeing his parents walk away he saw as Balin came over to him and took one of the berries. "Where'd ya find the berries?"

"A girl gave them to me."

"A girl huh?" Balin asked with a chuckle. "What girl?"

"One in the forest. Sh..she said she was a..." he said and then trailed off.

Tilting his head Balin looked to his little brother and furrowed his brows. "Well.."

"Balin have ya ever seen fairy?"

"A fairy?" Balin laughed. "No lad. Fairies are nothing more than legend.... wait is that..."

" 'ey you two, 'ow about some help out here?" Fundin called.

Hearing their father call them the brothers looked to each other before going to help their father.

.............................

Swinging the hammer down on the glowing steel he felt sweat roll down his face but couldn't take the time to wipe it away. Dipping the metal into the water barrel he heard it hiss and watched steam erupt from the surface. Once he had it cooled he lifted it up to inspect his work. Seeing no faults he dropped the horse shoe down to the pile. Letting out a sigh he finally placed down his tongs before whipping his face with the damp rag. At least with the heavy rain it wasn't very hot and the insects were leaving him be. Glancing to the clock he saw it was well past five in the afternoon, past quitting time. Still he had much to do. Going to grab the next piece of metal to start work he startled a bit when a voice spoke from behind him.

"Hello again."

Snapping around he saw a young woman sitting on his workbench, her bare legs and feet dangling down and swinging slightly. "And just who are..." Seeing her smile at him he trailed off, his eyes taking her in. Long silver hair, golden eyes... blue wings... It was her. It had been years since he had seen her, since that day in the forest. She was older now, like him, but she was still beautiful. "You." he finally spoke.

"Whatcha doin'?" you asked looking to the strange object in his hand, long metal thing.

"Where did ya come from? How'd ya get in 'ere?" he questioned her.

"The window." you smiled.

Seeing the slightly parted window he looked back to her and noticed she was soaked, her short white dress and hair dripping. Licking his lips he took a deep breath when he saw how the thin fabric was clinging to her body. "Yer all wet."

Glancing down you gave a giggle and then looked to him. "Yea." Tilting your head you looked the boy...no man now, over. In human years you both would now be considered young adults and it showed. His hair was a bit longer now and bushier along with the hair on his face and chin. He was taller, wider, you could tell thick muscles made up his frame. He was only wearing an olive green tunic that was damp with sweat and a pair of brown trousers along with his heavy boots. You wondered how he walked in those things.

Moving a bit closer to her he placed down the tongs. As his eyes roamed over her body some he felt a blush heat up his face, there was just so much skin showing. Quickly turning away he moved to grab his cloak from the hook by the door. Carrying it back over to her he pushed the thing into her hands. " 'ere' cover yerself up."

A little puzzled you tilted your head but then grinned and took the cloak he was offering. Flattening your wings you wrapped the thick cloak around your shoulders and grinned up at him.

Seeing her small body wrapped in his cloak made this strange feeling bubble in his stomach and chest, gas maybe? Shaking his head he grabbed his stool and sat down on it in front of her. " 'ow did ya find me?"

"Well I wanted to see you again and so I just went in the direction it told me to go."

"What told ya?"

"My heart." you smiled.

Stiffening he felt that blush creeping up to his ears.

"I wanted to come find you sooner but I... well I couldn't." you spoke looking down and frowning a bit before shaking your head and looking back to the dwarf male. "But I'm here now."

Trying to process the whole situation he watched as she hopped down from the bench and started walking about the forge, looking over this and that. There were so many questions he wanted to ask her but he couldn't think of which one to ask first. Anytime he had ever mentioned the fairy lass in the forest before everyone had always laughed at him, asked him if he had fallen and hit his head. Fairies weren't supposed to be real. "Stuff of legend" Balin always told him. "Children's story characters" Thorin told him. She was real though, he was sure he hadn't bumped his head and he hadn't drank anything. She was standing right in front of him. Maybe he had eaten something bad? No. No.

"What is this place called?" you asked, looking to all the tools and such. You had seen them before when you would sneak out but you didn't know the name.

She had spoken, asked him a question. Clearing his throat he looked to see her standing in front of the coal pit. "A forge. There aren't any where yer from?"

Humming you tilted your head. "One I think but I've never seen anyone there." Reaching out you poked one of the chains hanging down.

"An' where exactly are ya from?"

"Galilee."

"Never 'eard of it."

"It's in a different realm than this one, hidden from all but fairy folk."

Humming he watched her continue inspecting things. When she reached out to touch one of the iron horse shoes he heard her let out a hiss and watched her fall backwards to the floor. Quickly standing he hurried around the bench to see her holding her hand to her chest, her face contorted into one of pain. Kneeling down in front of her he furrowed his brows, "What's wrong?"

"I...iron..."

Gently taking her hand he pulled it out to look at it and saw she indeed had what looked to be a burn to the tips of her middle and forefinger. Blinking he felt a strange clenching in his chest and helped her up. Taking her back to his stool he sat her down on it and moved to get some of the burn salve. Crouching down before her he dabbed a bit onto her fingers and gently rubbed it in.

As he finished up you grinned softly and looked down when his blue eyes met yours "Thank you."

Starring up into her golden eyes he felt his heart thump a little heavier in his chest. "What's yer name lass?"

Smiling softly you felt that wonderful hum in your chest before you spoke. "Y/n."

He couldn't help the pull of his lips as he received her name. Standing he gave a bow, "Dwalin at yer service."

Giggling lightly you shared a grin as he rose to look at you again. Hearing the chime of a bell you startled and snapped your eyes over to the door to see another male come inside.

"Ya about done lad? It's gettin' late."

Turning around he saw his brother there, pushing off the hood of his soaked cloak. As soon as his brother looked up he saw shock come over his face at seeing the female inside, sitting on his bench, wrapped in his cloak. As his eyes turned to look at him, that older brother look of curiosity and disapproval he swallowed.

"Hello." you spoke to the new male.

"Uhm h.. hello there lassie." Balin spoke. "I haven't seen you around here before, tell me are ya here fer business reasons."

"No, I just came here to see Dwalin." you spoke.

His name sounded so lovely coming from her lips.

"Is that right?" Balin asked with raised brows, looking to his brother for answers.

Clearing his throat Dwalin looked between the two. "Y/n this is my brother Balin. Brother, this is Y/n."

"Your brother?" you asked with a smile. Looking to the older male you hopped off the bench and moved over to him. "It's so nice to meet you."

Chuckling lightly Balin gave a bow. "The pleasure is mine dearie." Looking to his little brother he gave him a look, "Brother a word."

Sighing he nodded, "Aye." looking to Y/n he saw her give him that sweet smile that seemed to be ever present on her face.

Watching as Dwalin and his brother stepped into the room next to this one you grinned and looked down to the cloak. Dipping your head to smell at it you sighed at the scent of the dwarf male on it. A sudden strike of lightning made you gasp, your eyes snapping to the window. As a loud booming thunder followed you curled up and dipped your head, your fingers curling into the cloak for a moment. Glancing back to the room Dwalin had went into you frowned. You wanted to say goodbye but you didn't want to interrupt his conversation with his brother. Another loud thunder made you tense and you bit your lip as you removed his cloak and hung it back on the hook that he had gotten it from. With one last glance towards his direction you shrunk down and flew out the open window.

Growling he turned and walked back out to the forge, "Y/n, lass will ya please tell my brother what ya... are..." Seeing the room empty he knit his brows. Snapping his eyes around he tried to spot her but she was gone, his cloak hanging back on the hook. Dropping his shoulders he felt a small pull in his chest and heard Balin sigh from behind him.

"Ya know I think ya are gettin' too old ta believe in fairies lad."

.............................

Sitting by the camp fire he turned the meat he was cooking before looking back down to his ax to continue sharpening the blade on it. A faint glow from beside him made him turn his head, his hand gripping his weapon. Seeing nothing he knit his brows and listened but couldn't hear anything. Sighing he turned back to the fire.

"Hi Dwalin."

The sudden voice from beside him made him about fall over. Snapping his eyes to the source he saw the face that had been in his dreams since the last time they had met. "Ya know I think you enjoy scaring the bajeebeeze out of me lass." he spoke and heard her giggle. Sitting back straight he turned more towards her to look her over fully. She was now a little older since they had last saw each other, looking to be around what a human would consider early twenties or so. It had to have been close to twenty years since she had showed up in the forge he was working in. He would be lying if he said he hadn't missed her, even if everyone else said he was crazy and that his fairy lass didn't exist.

"Are you out here all by yourself?" you asked, looking around and seeing no one else here.

Humming he nodded. "Aye lass, on a scouting mission." Her hair was longer now, going to her waist in long sliver waves that seemed to glow like liquid silver itself. Her eyes themselves were like pools of molten gold as she looked to him. Licking his lips he took a breath, "Why'd ya leave last time like that?" he asked, wondering if it was something he did.

"I had to, my father... well he called for me."

"Yer father." seeing her nod and look down he said no more. Looking to the fire he moved to check his meat. Finding it done he removed it from the heat and set it aside to cool some. Noticing her looking it over oddly he rose a brow. "Ya act as though ya've never seen venison before."

"Venison? What's that?"

Freezing he looked to her and then shook his head slightly, "Yer kidding?" When she only continued looking to him he sighed. "What is it ya eat lass?"

"I like fruits and vegetables, fish... um....oh I sometimes sneak tarts when no one is looking." you smiled.

"So you've never had meat before?" he asked and saw her shake her head. Scoffing he grabbed his knife and the skewer of meat. Slicing strips of it he placed it on the wooden plate he had until it was all off. Holding the one fork he had out for her to take he watched her small hand timidly take it. Using his knife to lift his own piece he saw her watching him but not take one herself. "Well go on."

Seeing him start eating his own piece you looked down to the plate and poked one of the strips. Lifting it up you looked it over, smelling of it before you hesitantly took a bite.

Watching her as she ate the meat he saw as she seemed to think it over as she chewed. When she swallowed he rose his brows. "Well?"

"It's good." you grinned.

Chuckling he pushed the plate between them both and nodded down to it, silently telling her to take more. They both ate in a comfortable silence for a while, she didn't eat no where near as much as he did but still she seemed to enjoy it and he secretly enjoyed being able to feed her.

"How is your brother, Balin?"

He was surprised that she remembered his brother and grinned. "He's good lass. Do you have any siblings?"

"Yes, I had twelve sisters and seventeen brothers."

His eyes went wide at that, thirty, thirty children. How the hell does one have that many children. "So are you the oldest or youngest or..."

"No I'm somewhere in the middle. Balin is your older brother?"

Nodding he saw her grin.

"Are you and your brother close?" you asked, crossing your legs under you and looking up to him.

"Aye. Aren't you close with your siblins'?" he asked but saw her lip twitch, her eyes looking down before she shook her head.

"Not really, I...well I've always been d...different."

Seeing how this saddened her he furrowed his brows and felt a small clenching in his heart. When a breeze came he saw her give a shiver and looked to her thin, short white dress. The thing hung on her shoulders by only thin straps and ended at her knees. "Don't ya 'ave any more clothes other than that measly thing?"

Looking down you tilted your head. "No not really." you giggled.

Huffing he took his cloak off and went to wrap it around her shoulders but looked to her blue wings that were standing upwards behind her. They were the most bright shade of blue, slightly see through and shiny in the light of the fire. He didn't realize he was staring until she gave a small flap of them. Clearing his throat he saw her laying them flat and wrapped his cloak around her.

You gave a hum as the warmth of his cloak enveloped you. "Your clothes must keep you very warm." you said eyeing his fur and leather. Looking up to his face you smiled, "Well that and your hair. I like the way you have it now." you spoke, admiring the way he had it cut into a mohawk. Looking to the hair coming out of his chin and along his jaw you tilted your head a bit and lifted your hand. "Do all dwarves grow hair out their face as well?"

He felt his cheeks flush at her complimenting his hair but when her small hand flited and she touched his beard he froze. Her touch was extremely gentle, so much in fact he could barely fee it but still he acted before he coudl think. Grabbing her wrist he shoved her hand away from him. "What in Durin's name ya doin'?"

Gasping at his sudden deep voice and being rough actions you looked up at him in shock. "I..."

"Ya don't just touch a dwarf's beard like that?! Mahal. Don't ya know anythin'?"

Feeling your heart hammering against your ribs you and your eye filling with tears you looked to his angry face and felt a sharp pain in your chest. "I..I'm sorry...I...didn't..." Looking down you felt your lip tremble. "I'm sorry." was the last thing you said before you quickly shrunk down and flew away as fast as you could, not wanting to embarrass yourself further.

Hearing her quiet whisper he furrowed his brows as her frame curled inward. Before he coudl speak a word however she was gone in a tiny ball of light. "No. Y/n wait...." He tried calling but she didn't come back. Growling he rubbed his face, "Fer fuck's sake. Way ta go ya jacksie." he grumbled. Glancing down to his cloak he lifted it from the bedroll they had been siting on and looked at it for a moment before bringing it to his nose. Inhaling he smelt just the faintest small of her sweet scent and sighed.

...........................

Letting out a long sigh you blinked and looked over the water's surface. Hearing the laughter of some of your sisters you glanced their way, seeing them all siting in the field of flowers. From the looks of it they were busy doing each other's hair, working their sleek colorful locks into intricate styles. Your lip twitched as you for a fleeting moment thought about going over to them before you remembered the last time. It had taken you a weeks to get all the moss and sap out of your hair. Looking down you rubbed your arm. Your brothers offered no better company, leaving you bruised and sore from their rough treatment. Closing your eyes you snapped them open at the sound of the horn, banquet time. Standing you flew to the entrance and landed on the small platform. Going to walk in you were caught by a rough yank of your upper arm, from the pain of the hand holding you, you knew bruises would be there later. Glancing up you saw your father there and shrunk up as his loathsome eyes stared down at you.

"Do try not to humiliate me or the rest of the family any more than you already do tonight." he spoke in a low voice so not to bring attention.

Swallowing thickly you kept your eyes down so not to show the hurt his words had caused as you nodded. "Yes father." All that was heard was a huff from him as he walked away, the cough that had been bothering him for a while sparking up. Not a few moments later you heard the applause and took a deep breath before entering the hall. Getting to your normal seat at the far end of the table you stopped and looked to your stool to see a different one there, one that matched the others. Knitting your brows you heard your siblings chuckling and giggling.

"Y/n take your seat so the feast can begin." you mother spoke in a hiss.

Licking your lips you moved to the new stool and sat in it, the table now coming up to your shoulders. Hearing a few snickers from the other fairies you stifled your trembling lip.

"Such a tiny little thing she is isn't she?"

"And such a strange coloring she has."

"Yes, there was never any reason we coudl come to, the rest of our children are all perfectly normal."

"Hmmm how peculiar."

"I'm sure it was nothing either of you did, she was probably just defective from the beginning."

"Yes sometimes I find myself wondering if we should have just shown her mercy. After all she is doomed to a lone existence anyway, not having a bonded."

You could listen to no more of their whispers, choosing instead to stare at your plate as it was set in front of you. Fish again. What you wouldn't give for more of that meat Dwalin had shared with you. Sighing you lifted your fork and started poking at your food.

After dinner everyone broke off into conversation, your siblings finding their bonded to be close with. Looking across the hall you couldn't help the clenching in your heart as you took in all the couples here and there. Even your youngest siblings had their destined one's by their sides to play and talk with. It was times like these when you thought of your dwarf the most. You wondered if he thought of you as well? Did you ever cross his mind? You hadn't seen him since that night when you had made the mistake of touching his beard as he called it. How you had hated yourself after that, realizing how you had offended him so. You hoped he knew how truly sorry you were, you never meant to do something he didn't like and you hoped he would forgive you. On multiple occasions now you wanted to go see him again and give formal apology but you were to afraid to do it. Too afraid of his dismissal.

Deciding to go out onto the balcony you moved into the corner where no one was and stared up at the night sky. Sometimes you wished you could fly way up there with the stars. A sudden sharp pain in your chest made you stiffen and your brows furrow. When it didn't go away you blinked. "Dwalin?" you spoke in a soft voice. Something was wrong. Without another moments thought you flew from the balcony and off into the sky as fast as your wings would take you.

Arriving on the battle field you furrowed your brows and panted as you looked around. Staying in your tiny form you gasped when a horrid looking creature swung his sword by you. Dodging the blade you saw as a male came running up to cut down the foe. Yells of anger and pain filled the air and a pungent odor filed your nose. Your heart hammered in your chest as you spun around, where was he? Where was your dwarf? Seeing some from both sides laying unmoving on the ground as well as those who were covered in blood you felt true fear fill you. As you flew around the area looking for Dwalin you sent a silent plea to the Gods to keep him safe.

You almost flew past him, hearing a familiar voice you stopped and looked around. When you did spot him you felt ice fill your veins. He was in the middle of a battel with one of the monsters but he was hurt. Blood was spilling from his right shoulder and he also looked to be limping. Seeing another coming up from behind him you took a deep breath and flew down. Growing in size you grabbed one of the weapons from the ground and moved to attack the thing.

Hearing a female grunt he looked over his shoulder and felt his eyes go wide. "Y/n?" Blocking the orc's sword he swung his second ax and cut the thing's leg, sending it to it's knee. When he heard her cry out he looked to see the thing had knocked her to the ground and was holding it's spear above her ready to strike. Roaring out he cut the head from the one he had been fighting before hurrying to her defense and doing the same. Staring down at her he saw her looking up at him with those gold eyes. "What the hell ya doin' ere'?!" he yelled but then snapped his mouth shut when he saw her shoulders curl up some. Taking a deep breath he went to speak in a more softer voice but a broken yell cut him off and he grit his teeth when he felt a intense pain to his side. Fighting with the orc he growled and pushed through the pain until he had finished off that scum as well.

Seeing him panting you quickly hurried to his side when he leaned against the bolder, his hand on his side. "Dwalin..." Seeing blood on his clothes you knit your brows, "You're hurt."

" 'm fine lass." he told her.

Watching as his body started to slump to the ground you tried to hold him up as much as you could, "No. You're not."

"Just need ta sit fer a sec'n."

Helping to ease him down you looked over his blood and filth covered body, your heart beating like a drum.

"Ya need ta get away from this lass, war ain't no place fer an angel like ya." he told her. Any other time he wouldn't be able to say such things but right now he would blame it on the blood loss.

Looking up to his face you licked your lips and stared into his lidded eyes. Seeing how pale he was going you looked down to his wounds again and knew you had to do something soon or he would die. "Dwalin..." Seeing his eyes now closed you took a deep breath and pushed your lips to his. You wanted to cup his bearded cheek but only tightened your hands by your sides, knowing he wouldn't want you to touch it. Closing your own eyes at the feel of his lips under yours you focused on making your magic flow into him.

He had been so tired and he thought he had fallen asleep but there was this strange tingling on his lips that spread all over his body. As his body grew more aware he opened his eyes just barely and then he was sure he had fallen asleep and he dreaming because she was kissing him, his fairy lass. Raising his hand the tips of his fingers just did brush her silky silver hair before he heard his name being called.

Hearing someone calling his name you pulled away and saw his lidded blue eyes looking at you. Glancing to the field you saw figures walking towards the both of you. You recognized one of them as his brother Balin but there were others you hadn't seen before. Still you knew they would take care of him, that he would be safe. Feeling weak yourself you looked back to Dwalin and saw him still just watching you. His wounds were no longer bleeding and his color was a little better.

Seeing her smile at him before she was gone in a tiny ball of light he licked his lips that were still tingling. Had it been real? Had she... kissed him?

"Dwalin! Brother!"

"He's injured, let's get him back to camp."

........................

Getting back to your room you just did make it to your bed before your wings gave out. Not a moment later did the door slam open.

"So you decided to return. I know you went to Middle Earth again, father does as well..."

"Y/N!"

"Oh look and here he comes now."

Panting you tugged the covers up over you and closed your eyes. Your punishment would no doubt be as sever as the ones before but you could care less, the feeling of Dwalin's lips still on yours making it all worth it. As you heard your father enter your room the small grin remained on your face.

#dwalin x reader #the hobbit fanfiction #Dwalin hobbit #dwalin x oc #Young Dwalin

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dreamingofaizawa · 4 years ago

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Queen of Hades

Hades! Shouta Aizawa x Persephone! Fem! Reader

***18+ Fic***

If you are not 18 years or older, please refrain from reading any further. Thank you.

Warnings: TW: Incest, kidnapping, stockholm-ish, slow-burn ish, smut, praise kink and body worship if you squint, possessive during smexy time, overstimulation, squirting, dacryphilia, masturbation (not super descriptive tho), unprotected sex (pretty obvious but I’m putting it here anyway), creampie, aftercare, tiny bit of angst at the end but not too bad.

Word Count: 9.7k (Holy shit)

Author’s Note: *kinda long note here, you don’t really have to read it if you don’t want to*

Ohhhkaaaayyyyyy so this took a lot out of me. This is my longest fic so far, and honeslty I’m kinda proud of it. I’ve always been a sucker for Greek mythology, and I’ve always had a soft spot for Hades because he’s so sorely portrayed as a villain in mainstream media. He’s really not as bad as movies like Percy Jackson and Hercules make him out to be. Nothing in the mythology suggests that Persephone was unhappy, so I took it a ran with it. I also drew a bit of inspiration from Lore Olympus on WebToon (iykyk) for the parts regarding Demeter’s parenting.

The only three characters I really referenced to mha besides Aizawa is Hizashi Yamada (Hermes), Momo Yaoyorozu (Aphrodite), and Bakugo Katsuki (Ares). I went with Momo for Aphrodite solely because she seems like the only one Bakugo would willingly listen to since she’s on par with him at least in intelligence. I made Bakugo Ares because he’s the god of war, and tends to get angry easily. Their temperaments are similar, except for the fact that Ares can be pretty cowardly (sorry not sorry Ares).

Anyway, enjoy~

The god sat on his throne, contemplating his lonely existence for what felt like the hundredth time. It may have been, considering he is immortal. At one time, he’d never given loneliness a second thought. He didn’t mind being this way. His job was important, even if melancholy, and he took it very seriously. Keeping Cerberus tame and entertained was probably the most difficult part, physically. The three-headed dog sat at the entrance to the underworld, guarding at all times to ensure any and all souls that passed through could never escape. And Hades simply ruled over this plane of existence, ensuring nothing was out of order and those kept in the depths of Tartarus remained there.

However, in the last couple centuries the raven-haired god had been plagued with longing for someone to share his existence with. He no longer wanted to be alone. He craved someone to spend his time with, someone to think about and experience what mortals and gods alike called love. He wanted a queen. With the time he had on his hands, he prepared himself to scour the mortal realm as well as Olympus, to search under the invisibility his helm allowed him. Soon he was walking the realms, invisible to all creatures, observing, searching for his queen.

____

Being the daughter of Demeter wasn’t easy. The goddess hovered over you, making sure you were doing your duties properly as the goddess of vegetation. Being a goddess yourself was only made difficult by your mother. She needed perfection. You worked diligently to hone your powers, urging plantlife to grow to your will and learning about the time before the gods. You spent every day under her guidance, until she was finally satisfied with your performance. She’d finally stopped pushing you about a century ago, now simply watching with no commentary or instructions.

Today was finally the day you’d be able to have time completely alone outside your quarters. You wandered, stopping in a beautiful meadow. The sight made your heart swell with joy. Lush, soft grass stretched as far as you could see, flowers of all colors blanketing the area. From bright, vibrant sunshine yellow to deep cerulean and mulberry. Some of the lone flowers stood tall enough to touch your hips as you floated through the greenery. It was serene, peaceful. Your chest felt light, finally you were free from your mother’s harsh gaze to relax, all alone.

As you finally decided you’d return, you thought of the beauty of the area. It didn’t take long for you to find a few choice blooms to pick and carefully pluck them from the ground. Keeping them alive would be effortless from your amount of training. You’d keep them in your chambers, a memory of the feelings you experienced here. Satisfied with your choices, you took a final glance around you and began your return.

You only made it a few steps when suddenly the ground began to quake. Only a horse’s length from your feet, you watched wide-eyed as the ground split open to a huge chasm, chunks of earth tumbling into the void. A golden chariot pulled by four beautiful black stallions emerged from the fissure, pulling to an abrupt halt next to you. A raven-haired man stood proud in the chariot, one hand extended out toward you. His face showed no emotions, his dark obsidian eyes tired and sad, a scar curved under his right eye and light scruff adorning his chiseled jaw.

You shrunk away from his hand, unsure of his identity or the reason for such a surprise visit. “Who are you?” you ask warily, your eyes narrowing slightly. “I am Hades, god of death and wealth. Your mother would know me as Aidoneus.” Your eyes widened in shock. No wonder you didn’t know who this is. Hades rarely left the Underworld, and hasn’t in the past thousand or so years according to what you’d heard from your mother. Why was he here of all places? Sensing your apprehension, he reached out for you once more.

“Please, my sweet, come with me to the Underworld.” Your eyebrows scrunched in confusion. You weren’t entirely sure why the god of death wanted you, but you didn’t want to find out. Shaking your head, you took a few tentative steps backward. “I...don’t want to go with you…” The idea of abandoning your duties was absurd. You were a goddess, and your mother would be absolutely furious if she found out you’d gone with Hades and vanished to the underworld. Not to mention how your family might feel about your sudden disappearance.

A loud cry of your name had you snapping your head toward the source. A beautiful woman donning golden armor wielding a spear was sprinting toward you, her brown curls pulled tight into a woven plait down her back. “Athena!” You called to her as you began to run, but you were lifted off your feet before you could take a second step. In a blur of motion you found yourself in Hades’ golden chariot, a strong arm around your waist holding you tight to the god’s side. He peered down at you with those deep dark eyes as the chariot descended into the chasm.

“I am sorry, my love. But coming with me was never your choice to make.” You looked upward, watching as the earth closed above you. Panicked, you struggled in Hades’ grasp, but he was too strong for you to escape. “Please, don’t fight me.” You shot the god a glare that could kill, tears streaming down your face. “I never asked to be taken! Why? Why have you stolen me away?” A heaved sigh escaped his lips. “I will explain, my love, but for now,” he brings his other hand up and taps your forehead with two fingers, “Sleep.” Your eyelids droop, and your consciousness fades to black.

____

He had hoped you’d come with him willingly. Of course, he knew the chances of that happening were rather slim. Confiding in Zeus about his newfound feelings for you may have been a bad idea for him, considering he was the one to come up with this ridiculous plan. The god of the sky was supposed to be distracting most of the other gods and goddesses with a meeting, though it isn’t a surprise that Athena had managed to slip away. He was rather lucky to have been able to escape Athena without direct confrontation. He may be a powerful god, but Athena was the goddess of war strategy and wisdom. She could probably fight Zeus himself and find a way to come out victorious.

But now, as he gaze down at your sleeping form in his bed, he can’t help but feel it was worth the trouble. You were absolutely gorgeous, a beauty to rival Aphrodite, though he’d never say it aloud for fear of the woman’s jealous revenge. He watched the rise and fall of your chest, the way your lips parted ever so slightly with your breath. He wants so badly to kiss you, to hold you and cherish you, to worship you the way you should be. But he wants you to accept him and love him of your own accord. He’d made that decision from the first time he laid eyes on you. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead before leaving you to rest.

____

It felt like you hadn’t even been asleep for a second, like you had only just closed your eyes. But you definitely weren’t in the chariot anymore, and Hades was nowhere to be seen. Sitting up, you took in your surroundings. You lay on a large bed covered in fine pelts and furs on the wall furthest from the door. The room itself is large enough to fit at least three chariots and room to spare. Cool blue floated around the room, candles inset in the walls lit with cerulean fire, emitting a soft glow and shadows dancing in the light. The room was relatively empty, save for the armor on the wall along with a two-pronged scepter and a helm. There was no question in your mind where you were.

The large wooden door creaked as it opened, the King of the Underworld himself standing in the doorway. You glared as he made his way over to you and sat on the edge of the bed. “Why am I here, Hades?” You absolutely meant for the edge to come through in your voice, letting out your aggression in the most passive way possible. You hoped the tinge of fear you felt hadn’t shown through as well. As much as you didn’t like being taken against your will and hated Hades for it, you didn’t want to get into a fight with the god of death.

“Please, my name is Shouta. The mortals call me Hades. And you’re here because I’ve fallen in love with you, sweet goddess.” His voice was gentle, apologetic even. “The kidnapping was Zeus’s idea. I only went along with it because I knew my sister would never let me have you if I asked. I know how she is with her children.” You gave a small huff and pulled your knees into your chest, eyes still on the god. “Talking to me first was always an option, you know.” His shoulders shook as he chuckled. “My apologies. I should have talked to you first.”

Apprehensively, you asked the question you were sure you already knew the answer to. You tore your eyes away from him, suddenly the furs underneath you were the most interesting thing in the world. “When can I go back?” His hand appeared in front of you, and you didn’t flinch or move away as his calloused palm cupped your face gently, making you look up into his dark eyes. “I’m sorry, my love. But I can’t let you return yet.” You gave a small nod, and he pulled his hand from your face as he stood. “Walk with me?”

His eyes were hopeful, waiting for the answer he wanted. If you declined, would he force you to go with him anyway? You squeezed your knees further into you, giving an indirect ‘no’ to test his reaction. He let out a small sigh, “I see. If you need anything, you can call for me.” He moved to walk out of the room, not halfway to the door when you stopped him. “Actually...um...I think a walk would be okay.” Slowly, you got up and walked over to him, and he gave a small smile before leading you out of the room.

The underworld was nothing like you thought it would be.

Hades - or rather, Shouta - led you on a tour of all three realms of the Underworld on the boat steered by Charon, the ferryman that delivered souls to the three parts of the Underworld. The Elysian Fields were gorgeous, mirroring daytime in the mortal realm with lush greenery and bright sunshine. This part was reserved for the mortals that were exceptionally heroic in their lifetime. Good people who lived lives giving to the people that needed it with no expectation to be repaid. All the souls here were happy, either playing or relaxing with each other in this afterlife.

The next part was the Asphodel Fields. This realm was darker, stuck in a deep limbo but beautiful all the same. A bright full moon sat high in the sky, the ground littered with luminous teal crystals. These souls were shadows of themselves, normal mortals that made mistakes and loved and lived their lives as best they could. They now live a mirrored life here, as a shadowed version of themselves. It was not a sad existence, but one that the mortal souls could be satisfied with.

As you rode the boat with Shouta on the river Phlegethon toward Tartarus, your body began to shake and your breath shallowed. You could feel the foul energy seeping into the air the closer you got. This was where the worst of the worst were kept prisoner. This realm locked a wicked soul in a loop of punishment and suffering. He looked down at you and wrapped an arm securely around your waist, and you peered up into his black orbs. “Tartarus is not a place I enjoy taking you, but I do intend on making you my Queen. You will need to see it even from a distance. I promise, you are safe.”

With a nod, he turns his attention back toward the bow. The closer you got to Tartarus, the more you began to feel fear. Despite the river of fire and the heat pouring from the banks, your body shook. The sheer bloodlust, anger, resentment, and malice pouring from the shoreline was enough to make your heart race. You may be a goddess, but you are young and weak compared to the god next to you. You feel yourself pressing into Shouta more as you float past the shore. The sights before you are horrific, if only because of the souls that are there.

You’d learned about the war between the gods and the titans early on in your life, and now here you were seeing the titans for yourself. They were enormous. Even on their knees, bound in chains thicker than the largest tree trunk, made from Adamantine the metal of the gods, they towered like mountains. They were monstrous, some with more heads than you could count, some with extra limbs, some with animalistic traits and some purely demonic. The sound of the chains rattling rang through the entire realm as a few lunged out toward the boat, only to be stopped short by the chains.

You jumped several times, fear consuming you. Shouta held you close, his arm tight around your shoulders as you clung to him. Confidence and power radiated off his form as he raised his other arm, the chains around the titans tightening and drawing into the ground with a flick of his wrist. He leaned down and whispered into your ear. “You are safe, my love. They cannot hurt you.” You calmed a bit with Shouta next to you, securing you to him and keeping you safe.

The ferry floated along and soon you were out of the realm of Tartarus, back at the palace grounds that the god lived in. The building was beautiful, built like the temples the mortals built for the gods. However, the stone it was made from was not white but black, polished to a beautiful shine that reflected the cool blue glow from the misty realm. This area was not in any of the three parts of the afterlife. It was the god of death’s personal realm.

The large temple sat high on a rocky hill, a staircase carved into the cliff face that led down to the five rivers that course through the underworld, all of them parallel each other until they branched off. The realm itself was magical in its own right. It seemed to be an enormous cave, huge stalactites hung from the ceiling, which was shrouded in deep blue mist that sparkled and mimicked the night sky. It was so high even the largest and lowest stalactites hung miles above the ground. The ground was all black earth, void of vegetation but full of life all the same, the scent of upturned earth and rain filling your senses.

You ogled at the beauty of it all, despite the darkness. You hadn’t taken the time to observe before the tour, but now that you could you almost didn’t want to look away. You felt the warmth of Shouta’s body as he pressed against your back, a hand gently taking your chin and directing your head up to look at the misty abyss. “Would you like to know what sparkles through the mist?” You gave a small nod. Though the mist was thick, there was something sparkling from far above it that made up the constellations in the sky of the mortal realm.

He stretched an arm out, palm up as if to catch something. The star you recognised as Polaris shone brightly then faded, and the glimmering speck fell from the fog, landing square in Shouta’s palm. It was a large gem, sparkling against the darkness. You traced your fingers along its ragged edges, and it floated back up to its place when you dropped your hand. It was then you remembered that Hades was not only the god of death. He was the god of wealth, of earthly riches, precious gems and metals that mortals sought to obtain.

Shouta’s voice was smooth and deep in your ear, his body still pressed up to yours. “Let us go inside, my love. It is time to rest. Tomorrow, I will take you to see Cerberus.” You let your body relax into him, relishing in the safety of his embrace. Giving a small nod, you let the raven-haired god guide you into the palace. He led you to a hot spring in the back of the palace, the large steaming pool set deep in the ground and illuminated by blue flame candles. He left you alone to bathe, and you relaxed into the water as you reflected on the recent developments.

Despite kidnapping you, the god clearly harbors no ill intentions toward you. He’d even revealed that the whole thing was, in fact, your father’s idea. He’s kind, sweet, nothing like the angry and cruel god the mortals seem to fear. And he radiates power, his strength clear even when he first appeared to you in the field. He suppresses his overwhelming prowess around you, you’d realised. It became clear just how powerful a god he is when he took you through Tartarus. As powerful as he is he’s gentle toward you, compassionate and caring, dare you say loving. He did claim to have fallen in love with you.

Still, you had duties as a goddess, though your mother was more than capable of handling it on her own. The only reason you had duties is because you are the daughter of gods. You wondered briefly what she was thinking right now, if she knew you were gone, if Athena had informed her of your current placement. You would have to wait to find out. Until then, you would enjoy your time here. The Underworld is beautiful, and mostly peaceful, disregarding Tartarus. If Shouta means to make you his Queen, maybe you could learn to love the man as you’ve come to love the realm he rules.

And of course, the god himself was rather handsome. His deep obsidian eyes held eons of emotion. Strength, power, loneliness and longing. And when he looked at you, you could tell he was sure he loved you, his eyes full of pure adoration. His long raven locks framed his face perfectly, the onyx crown he wore nearly invisible in his dark tresses. His jawline was strong, sharp, his ivory skin seemingly glowing blue in the atmosphere of the Underworld. The robes he wore hung loose around his frame, but it wasn’t hard to tell his body was strong and well built. He was a god, after all. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want to see him in all his glory.

You finished your bath and fell asleep in the same bed as the god, your backs to each other and plenty of room between you. You only knew him for a single day, but you trusted him with your immortal life. When you woke up, Shouta took you to see Cerberus like he said he would. The dog sat proud just inside the entrance, the gate closer to resembling a cave entrance than an actual gate. Cerberus had his own wide perch above the ground to look down and watch the entrance closely, his job as gatekeeper being taken just as seriously as Shouta took his job as king of the Underworld.

Reaching the river bank, Shouta stepped out and held his hand out to you, helping you out of the riverboat after him. Soon the two of you were approaching the three-headed beast, and the closer you got the more you understood just how large Cerberus is. Sitting on his haunches, his shoulders towered far above your head. You’d have to climb up onto his back to reach his three heads. As the two of you approached, the hound turned his heads and bowed low, muzzles nearly in the dirt with a low growl emanating from him.

Shouta, with a hand at the small of your back, walked up to the beast and placed a hand on the middle head, slowly petting up and down in between his eyes. You could hear the whoosh of his large tail behind him. He may be the guard dog to the Underworld, but he was still a dog, you supposed. “Hello, old friend. Meet your future Queen.” The head closest to you lifted, a large huff blowing in your face from his snout, before his nose twitched as he sniffed at your hair and face. You giggled, the air tickling your neck and face, as you reached up and held the large head in your hands and kissed above his nose.

“Such a sweet boy, aren’t you?” The hound’s tail swished harder and one of his front paws tapped against the ground, his body almost dancing at the praise and attention. Mindlessly, you let your hand pet at his fur as you observed the other two heads. Each one seemed to have a different personality. The one you were giving attention to was happy and jumpy, constantly sniffing and licking you. The one in the center was calm and collected, stoic even, eyes trained on the entrance as Shouta pet it. The furthest from you seemed angry, a low growl a near constant as his gaze was focused on the cave entrance.

“Show her a little respect won’t you? It won’t kill you.” The angry head huffed before turning its gaze to you, giving a short bow, and with a snarl turning his attention back to the entrance. As interesting as guarding the gate seems, the only one that actually entered through the gate was Hermes. You watched as the god zoomed in and out, delivering souls to the dock, sending those who could pay off with Charon as he rowed them to their respective placements. You doubted any soul would be able to leave. They’d be spotted and caught easily, if Cerberus had anything to say about it.

Several months passed while you were down in the Underworld, staying by Shouta’s side through whatever he needed to do. No matter how many times you travelled through the underworld with Shouta, you never got enough of the beauty of it all. Sometimes he’d take you through the Asphodel Fields, deep into the crystal forests. He walked with you through the fields with a warm hand at the small of your back, gently guiding you where you had yet to roam. The longer you stayed, the more you found yourself wanting to be around the god.

Any time he needed to visit Tartarus, you’d join him, and he’d keep you tucked into his side the whole time. You felt safe in his hands. Lately you’d been cuddling closer to him at night, longing for his embrace. His rather thick arms would curl around your waist and shoulders, pulling you tight to his chest. You'd wake up to the god’s deep obsidian eyes on your face, his gaze soft as he told you how beautiful you are or how thankful he was that he could wake up next to you. He’d leave soft kisses on your forehead and cheeks, thick fingers rolling shapes into your skin.

It was those little intimate moments that had you falling, very possibly in love, with the King of the Underworld. When he’d run his hands down your arms and whisper his affections. When he’d teach you about the workings of the Underworld while you pet Cerberus’s head. In the bath when he’d wash you after a long day, never advancing further than a chaste kiss to your shoulder and neck. The lingering, longing, loving gaze he set on you while you rode the riverboat to the different realms. In no time at all you’d realized you’re happy here.

Now, you both stood at the gate with Cerberus once again. One head was nuzzling up against you, the other two focused on the entrance as you and Shouta pet the happy dog. You’d learned that while the center wasn’t averse to physical touch, he preferred to be left alone. The angry one had become less growly and aggressive toward you, which you supposed was progress. Though you were sure if you ever attempted to leave the Underworld, Cerberus would stop you regardless. Not that you wanted to leave.

A whoosh of wind rushed past you and suddenly Hermes was standing on the other side of Shouta, a wide grin plastered on his face as he leaned on the god’s shoulder. “What’s up, Sho?” His hypnotic green eyes wandered over to you and his eyebrows raised as his grin widened. “So this is miss Persephone, is it?” He held a hand out for you to shake. “It’s good to meet you.” Tentatively, you reached out and took his hand, shaking it before you asked the question burning in your mind.

“Sorry, but why did you just call me Persephone?” A moment of realization hit the blonde. “OH! Yeah, you’ve been called Persephone by the mortals, as well as the rest of Olympus. The Bringer of Destruction. Fitting for the Queen of the Underworld, isn’t it?” Your breath quickened and eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. “Why would they call me that? I haven’t done anything!” Shouta narrowed his eyes at the god. “Hizashi, what’s this about?” He leaned away with his hands up in mock surrender.

“Hey, it wasn’t me. When Demeter found out her daughter was missing she abandoned her duties up in Olympus. The mortal realm has slowly been changing ever since she left, slowly becoming cold and barren. It’s not pretty. Your other siblings are trying their best to uphold Demeter’s abandoned chores but...they aren’t their mother.” Shouta slipped an arm over your shoulder, tucking you into his side, and you clung to him in your increasingly distressed state, relishing in the safety his arms often held for you. The two gods talked as you tried to ground yourself.

“How much does Demeter know?” A high-pitched hum rang from the blonde. “Well Zeus, Athena and I are the only ones who know you took her. I believe Hestia, Hera, and Poseidon know she’s here but not how she got here, and the rest just don’t know anything. Zeus made Athena swear not to say anything, but considering she’s his favorite it may be only a matter of time before she confesses to Demeter with no repercussions. There’s also a possibility Aphrodite and Eros know for reasons that should be obvious to you.”

While they spoke your mind was reeling. You never thought anything of your mother’s hovering, but she’d abandoned her duties up in Olympus just because you’d vanished. What did that even mean? And now that the mortal realm was suffering, would you be punished for it? Would you be blamed for your mother’s absence?

____

“Do I have to go back to Olympus?” Shouta could hear the slight panic and sadness in your voice, and it made his grip around you just a bit tighter. Both their eyes flicked over to you, Shouta’s gaze soft and concerned. Hermes - Hizashi - gave a kind smile. “So far, nothing’s been decided. Zeus is pretty adamant about keeping this whole thing discreet, so for now you can stay here with Sho.” You seemed to relax in his arms, but Shouta could tell you were still stressed about the whole situation.

“Thanks ‘Zashi.” The blonde nodded, then zipped away and returned to his duties as the messenger god. Shouta looked back down at you and he could see the tension in your face. Eyebrows slightly scrunched, bottom lip pulled between your teeth as you chewed on it, crossed arms and hands clutching your biceps. He’d almost call it adorable if he couldn’t feel just how stressed you were, leaning your body into him like a cat seeking shelter from the rain. His arm slipped down to your waist as he guided you back to the ferry.

It didn’t take long for the both of you to be back at the temple. He sat you on the bed then kneeled in front of you, rough hands gently holding your own, calloused thumbs massaging circles into your skin. “My love, you are upset.” He watched and listened as you poured out your worries, all of them fears of whether or not the mortal realm would survive, if you were to be punished for your mother’s actions, if your mother would punish you herself for disappearing. He reassured you that he wouldn’t let anyone punish you for anything, that he’d protect you with his life.

He had already vowed to himself never to let anything happen to his precious Queen. He is not a violent god, but he would hunt down any soul that dared so much as a wrong thought about you, vowing that there would be hell to pay. If he ever let something happen to you, he swore he’d never leave the Underworld again, and instead trap himself in Tartarus indefinitely. Eventually, he would express his devotion to you, his undying love and loyalty, but for now all you needed to know was that you were safe with him.

His heart nearly skipped a beat when your eyes filled with tears, voice breaking as you cried about not wanting to leave the Underworld, not wanting to leave his side. You’d grown to love the realm for all it had, as well as the man who ruled over it. He knew as well as you did that you would eventually have to return to Olympus, and there was no guarantee you would ever come back. Well, there was one, but he would never suggest it to you for it was almost cruel. It kept you connected to this realm, like a chain to an anchor.

But then you had to go and ask.

____

You could see the turmoil behind his dark irises. He was thinking, and thinking hard. “Sho...is there any way for me to come back?” His jaw clenched, something you’d come to recognize as a signal of stress for the god of death. “What do you mean, love? You could return any time you like.” You squeezed his hands, willing him to listen. “I mean permanently, Shouta. If somehow my mother refuses to let me return, is there a way to tie me to you? To make sure I need to return no matter what?”

His usually calm features twisted in surprise, eyes wide and jaw clenched tight, his hands gripping your own. But the shock only lasted a moment before he was relaxing again. “My love, there is a way. But it is not kind to you, to force you to return here.” The sadness at that statement was clear in his eyes. He didn’t want to think of it, but the possibility for you to never want to return to him was there. Your eyebrows furrowed deeply and you ripped your hands away from his, planting your palms on either side of his face and forcing him to look deep into your eyes.

“I want to return here, Shouta, to you. Look into my soul and tell me I’m lying to you.” His dark onyx stared into you, and you stared back. He would know your sincerity, whether he wanted to or not. He had to know how much you truly cared, how far you’d fallen since that day in the meadow when he scooped you up into his golden chariot. You had to make him know. He didn’t protest when you began to pull him closer, leaning in until your lips ghosted over each other.

You’d never been this close before. He never advanced on you, never made you uncomfortable, never forced anything on you. He refused to force even the smallest things on you, like placing a hand on your waist or your shoulder, always asking permission and making sure you were okay first and foremost. Maybe it was just because of how gentle he is with you, or the fact that he’s the sweetest deity you’d met. Maybe it was the work of Eros. But you were no doubt in love with Shouta.

When your lips connected it was like a wave of heat crawled over your body, a spark igniting flame that rolled through your veins. You fit perfectly together, molding to each other in a sweet, passionate kiss. His own hands found purchase on your waist and neck, gentle caresses holding you close. Finally pulling away, you were both breathless, sucking in air through shuddered breaths and adrenaline. His voice came through heavy and thick with swirling emotions. “There is a way to keep you here, but will you wait and think about the decision before it is made?”

You knew what he was doing. He was preparing himself for what, in his mind, is an inevitable rejection from you. You also understood that he was taking you greatly into consideration, thinking about you and your happiness first. And that’s why you knew you loved him. Because you cared about him before yourself. Loving each other more than yourselves was something you shared. “Tell me now, my King, and I promise I’ll think about it.”

He sighed, but you couldn’t tell if it was from relief, sadness, or stress. Regardless, he explained to you the magic of the Underworld, and that if you were to eat a pomegranate seed from the realm you’d be compelled to return, whether you wanted to or not. You gave a nod and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you, Shouta. I will think about it. And you’ll know my answer when it comes time for me to return to Olympus.” He nodded, clearly grateful that you’d heed his words. However you fully intended to eat a seed when asked to return to Olympus. You had already made up your mind, and nothing could change it.

____

Waking up every day to see your face was a blessing for the god of death. He loved that you’d become comfortable with him, that you curled into his side while you slept. He adored your half-lidded, sleepy eyes when you first woke up in the morning. He adored your mussed hair before you combed it out and pulled it into a loose braid down your shoulder. Everything you did made him adore you even more, everything about you was the most beautiful thing to him.

He loved all of you, all that you did and said, every little detail of your existence. And he made sure you knew, whispering sweet nothings as he held you in bed, praising your beauty while he bathed with you. Every morning he watched your gorgeous eyes flutter open and made known his gratitude for being able to hold you so close. You never said much yourself, but he’d never have it any different. Your movements were enough for him. He lived for the little gestures and physical touches. The way you’d cling to him while you were out, how you’d hug him close at night. How you’d lean into his chest while you bathed together, or run your fingers through his hair when you relax in bed.

But he hated what you did to him, when you’d get close and squish your body up against him, when he felt your soft skin under his rough palms. He hated the feelings being with you unlocked, the filthiest parts of his mind coming to light. He wanted to ruin you in the best way, to make you his forever. He wants to worship every inch of you, and watch as you unravel beneath him. Late at night while you were fast asleep he’d gaze at your body, eating up every bit of exposed skin and letting his imagination run rampant. Tears falling down your face from pure overwhelming pleasure, sweet sounds pouring from your kiss-swollen lips, legs quivering and fingers clawing at the bed beneath you.

Tonight was no different as his eyes raked over your slumbering form. He could feel himself hardening just at the sight of you, and it drove him insane. He was slightly disappointed in himself for allowing something like lust to affect him so heavily. But it did, and he had to take care of it.

____

You were only half awake when you heard a soft curse and felt Shouta shift in bed behind you. When you rolled over to curl into him, you confirmed he wasn’t there and it woke you up rather quickly. Still a tiny bit groggy, you got up and went to search for him through the temple. Really, there weren’t very many places to search. It wasn’t long before you ended up outside the bathing room, but something stopped you before you stepped through the curtained entryway.

You could hear heaved breaths and soft curses from inside, the light slosh of water muffling a lot of the sounds. The sounds which were coming from none other than Shouta. You slowly pulled the curtain back, just barely, and peeked in. The sight before you made your thighs squeeze together and heat build in your stomach. The god was leaning on the edge of the small pool, head thrown back and his lower half below the water. It wasn’t hard to figure out what he was doing, with his hand submerged and the muscles in his arm flexing and pumping slowly.

You’d be lying if you denied how much you wanted him. You craved him in the worst way, wanted to touch his bare skin and feel the muscles in his back tense under your fingers. You wanted to see him lose himself and ravage you, to watch as he let his more primal instincts take over. The only problem you saw was how you would approach the subject, especially when your lustful feelings were becoming very hard to ignore. But now, you had just found the perfect opportunity.

Shouta’s back was mostly turned toward the curtains, so it wasn’t hard for you to slip into the room unnoticed. Silently, you padded up behind him and knelt. He was still pumping himself below the water, whispering filthy words and your name under heavy breaths. You reached out and grabbed his shoulders, making him jump, but you quickly shushed him. “It’s me, my King.” He froze, his entire body tensing and his shoulders rising with shuddered breaths.

“I-I’m sorry, my love...I-” You released your grasp and leaned over to look in his eyes, silencing him. “No, Shouta. Don’t be sorry. We may be deities but we are afflicted with emotion, same as any mortal.” Leaning down, you kissed and nipped below his jaw. “Come to bed, and we can help each other with those emotions.” He turned his head to you, brows slightly furrowed and concern laced in his voice. “You don’t have to help me, sweet girl. You shouldn’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, a small smirk tugging at your lips. “Did I not just say we’d help each other?” Surprise was evident on his face as he gazed up at you from the water. You leaned close to his face, lips just grazing each other, and stared deep into his eyes. “If I didn’t want to do it, I wouldn’t have offered.” Just as he pressed forward, you leaned back and stood, leaving the god shocked and wanting more. “I’ll be in bed, if you feel like joining me.” You swayed your hips a little more as you disappeared behind the curtains, a small tease to lure the god.

Back in the room, you stood at the foot of the bed, back to the door as you waited for him. You made it abundantly clear what you wanted, that you knew what you were asking for, and knew what you were offering. The door creaked open, and you could feel the heat of Shouta’s gaze on your body. He was on you nearly instantly as the door shut, his hands roaming your body and lips ghosting over your neck. His voice was raspy, heavy with lust and want. “Are you sure you want this?” You pushed your hips back into him, feeling his hardness through your thin robes.

A sighed ‘yes’ passed your lips, and it was all the confirmation the god needed. His hands came up and pulled the fabric off your body, the cloth wrapped around his waist following soon after. His thick fingers pinched and pulled at your body, relentless in their attack on your skin. His touch floated over you, sending electricity buzzing through you. Lust built like a wildfire, spreading and burning your blood as it coursed through your veins. You leaned back into him, pressing yourself against his strong body as he peered down yours and left kisses on your neck and shoulder. Your body felt impossibly hot, arousal pulling you deep into him as he traced your body with feather light touches.

Suddenly he grasped your hips tight, turning you and pushing you backward onto the bed. He stayed standing, and you both took a good look at each other for the first time. Yes, you often bathed together, but your back was always to his chest, and the lower halves of your body were submerged. He never touched you anywhere other than your back, shoulders and hair when he helped to wash you, and you never turned to look at him. But now, as you looked up, there was no doubt in your mind you were looking at a god.

He looked as if he was sculpted from marble, ivory skin pulled taut over chiseled muscles. Scars littered his body, discolored lines carved into his skin, each holding a story. Your breath hitched in your throat when your eyes landed on his cock. You may be a goddess, but if you weren’t prepared, he would undoubtedly destroy you. You felt more than heard the deep chuckle he let out, a devilish smirk set on his lips. “Don’t worry, little one. I won’t break you,” you lifted your eyes to meet his, “Yet.” You swallowed thickly, anticipation building in your chest. He climbs up and slots himself between your legs, leaning over you as his hair hangs in curtains around your face, drawing your eyes to the man above you.

“My love, you can tell me to stop any time.” The look in his eyes told you just how serious he was. He would do anything you asked of him without a second thought. You gave a nod and looped your hands around the back of his neck, pulling him down into a deep, sweet kiss. Your bodies pressed into each other, your skin burning against his as every cell in your body longed for his touch. Both your tongues poked out and melded together, tasting and savoring each other while his hands roamed down your body and your fingers massaged into his scalp.

When he finally pulled away you both panted, hot breaths fanning over each other’s face. One of his hands trailed down and gripped your thigh, fingers digging into your plush flesh as he ventured toward your heated core. He gathered the slick at the apex of your thighs, groaning at both how wet you had become and the little breathy moan you let out as he pushed a thick digit into your sopping folds. Soon he was adding a second, the burn quickly subsiding into pleasure as his thick fingers curled and scissored, stretching you and preparing you for his cock.

The pleasure was intense for you, never having experienced it like this before. In the 200 years of your life you’d never lain with a man, but there was nothing your mother could do to stop you from learning to pleasure yourself. She knew nothing about what you did alone in your chambers. But this was something different entirely. Shouta’s fingers reached deeper than yours could, stroking every sensitive spot inside you that you’d never known existed. Your legs shook as that familiar coil built in your abdomen, though much faster than you could build it on your own.

Shouta cooed praises into your ear, that knot beginning to fray the more he focused his attention on that gummy spot on your walls. His thumb slick with your juices reached up and rubbed at the little nub between your folds, and it only took a few tight circles for you to fall apart on his fingers with a moan. He drew out your orgasm, curling his fingers into you until you were choking on sobs from the overwhelming pleasure, your thighs trying to clamp down on his hand and nails digging crescent shapes into his wrist.

You whimpered as he pulled his fingers from you, moaning softly as you watched him suck your essence off his fingers with a lewd groan. He leaned down and pulled you into another heated kiss, and you could taste yourself on his lips. “Are you ready for me?” His breaths are heavy, hands gripping your hips tight, jaw set as he tries to compose himself. “Yes, my love. I’m ready.” He kisses you softly as he pushes into you slowly, swallowing up the little mewls dripping from your lips. One hand is rubbing at your swollen clit and the other toying with your breast to distract you from the stretch of his thick cock.

Your own hands are dragging down his back, trying to ground yourself as the god sank all the way into your cunt, stilling as he bottoms out completely. You’re both taking heaving breaths as your walls flutter, adjusting to him. Your legs are quaking and you mewl softly, tugging at his hair. “Please, Shouta, move.” He pulls his hips back and slowly thrusts back in, dragging the head of his cock along your sensitive walls deliciously. He starts a slow pace, languidly driving himself deep inside you. He leans down and kisses at your neck, the angle change making you throw your head back and moan.

You purposely clench down on him, and he bucks his hips up into you with a curse under his breath. His hands come back to your hips, fingers digging harshly into your skin as he growls. He pulls back until only the tip of his cock sits inside you, and snaps his hips forward, punching all the air from your lungs as he sets a brutal pace. Shouta doesn’t react as your nails claw furiously at his back, only yanks your body into him as the tip of his cock kisses your cervix with every thrust. Deep guttural growls and moans pour from his lips, the sound of wet skin slapping skin and the sweet, salty smell of sex permeating the room.

The little air you’re able to suck in is expelled in whines and sobs, fat tears streaming from your eyes as they roll back in your skull. Your mind was so far gone with pleasure, your entire body shivering and shaking as calloused fingers rub your clit, sending you head first into a powerful orgasm. His growls deepened as he kept himself from his own release, pounding into you with reckless abandon. His voice was raspy and breathless and one hand gripped your chin, tilting you to face him as he slowed his rutting. “That’s right, little goddess. Cry for your god, for your King. Tell me, who do you belong to?”

You took a moment to breathe through a sob, barely able to think with the overwhelming sensations. He was still thrusting his hips into you, slowly, dragging along your fluttering walls and gripping your face ever so slightly harder. “Answer me, sweet girl. Who do you belong to?” He punctuated the question with a sharp snap of his hips, stealing the air from your lungs before you gasped it back in. “You! I belong to you Shouta!” He’s pounding into you again, his hand moving to squeeze gently at your neck as he drives his cock deep into you over and over again.

“Yes, you’re mine. All mine forever. My goddess, my Queen, my wife, my love.” He lets out a loud moan, rubbing at your clit furiously. “Cum for me again, pretty thing. Cum.” Your entire body thrashes with the intensity of your orgasm, electricity jolting through you, your body answering Shouta’s command as if it knew you belonged to him, just as you both had said. You scream a moan as clear liquid splashes over his thighs and abdomen, and he fucks into you relentlessly as he chases his own release. With a long, low growl he shoves himself up against your cervix, pumping his thick seed into you and painting your insides white.

He keeps his cock buried deep inside you as he wraps his arms under your waist and rolls over onto his back, holding you tight to him as you lay boneless on his chest. You’re panting heavily, a sheen of sweat covering the both of you as he rubs his palms up and down your back. Fatigue tugs at your mind, your eyelids drooping as your breathing finally evens out. You feel Shouta shift your body with ease, pulling himself out of you with a hiss and lifting you into his arms.

You nuzzle into his chest as he walks, and soon you’re in the warm water of the bath, sitting on the submerged ledge between Shouta’s legs and leaning back into his chest. You can feel the water running down your arms as his hands cup and pour it over you. His rough hands are gentle as they run over your body, slowly cleaning you and massaging your aching muscles. You’re drifting in and out of consciousness, barely registering being carried once again before being laid down on the bed again. Shouta’s strong arms wrap around you, pulling you into his chest as you relax in his hold.

Barely conscious, you kiss his chest lightly, getting a kiss to your temple from the god. His deep voice is tired, but happy, gravelly from earlier. “I love you, (y/n).” You echo the sentiment, barely a whisper, and somewhere in your mind you wonder if he heard you. The question vanishes as quick as it had appeared, and you drift off to sleep.

***About 2 months later***

It was early, much earlier than you’d normally wake up, when someone showed up at the temple. You were in bed with Shouta, and he awoke at the presence of other gods. Yes, gods. The both of you went to see who it was that garnered his attention. Hizashi - Hermes - stood at the top of the staircase with another god and a goddess. You recognized both. The god with spiky blonde hair and eyes red as blood was Ares, god of war. The goddess had hair black as Shouta’s pulled high on the back of her head. The front of her red dress draped low, down to her navel, her shapely figure complimented by the soft fabric that was no doubt woven from silk. Aphrodite.

The three stood at attention as the two of you walked out, the three eyeing you with very different looks on their faces. Hizashi regarded you fondly, like old friends reconnecting. Ares was angry and guarded, as always, and Aphrodite had a glint in her eyes that you couldn’t quite discern. The ravenette turned to the god of war and nodded, and Ares visibly relaxed, no longer ready for a fight. Hizashi strolled over and leaned on Shouta’s shoulder again, a wide grin plastered on his face. “Hiya, Sho.” The blonde nodded his head at you. “(y/n).”

You smiled back at him, greeting him kindly before turning to the other two and giving a short bow. Aphrodite returned it, but Ares almost sneered. You weren’t really surprised. “Why are you three here, Hizashi?” Shouta asked sternly. The blonde seemed to deflate slightly as he walked back over to the other two and stood with them before speaking. “Well, for one, Demeter knows now where her favorite daughter has disappeared to. Imagine her fury when she found out her own brother had stolen her away.” Shouta groaned, then huffed. “She’ll live.”

The blonde chuckled. “Probably. Zeus has ordered that Persephone, formerly known as Kore and given the name (y/n) by Demeter, return to Olympus indefinitely.” Your eyes widened in shock and time seemed to freeze at his words. Your heartbeat drowned out any other noise, panic swirling in your head. Indefinitely? That meant until your mother decided you could come back to Hades, and you knew the answer would be never. You couldn’t live in a world where you couldn’t come back to Shouta.

The god could sense your distress and pulled you into a tight embrace, still discussing the arrangement with the three deities. But your mind was elsewhere. You knew what had to be done if you ever wanted to return. Heart racing, you leaned back and grabbed Shouta’s face, pulling him to meet your eyes. “Let me eat a seed, Shouta. Please.” His eyebrows knit together and his body tensed as he shook his head. “I can’t let you do that, my love. I can come visit you in Olympus instead.” But you wouldn’t have any of it.

____

He watched as your eyes filled with tears, your voice quivering and breaking as you spoke. “No! My mother won’t let you see me! And even if I begged her she won’t allow me to return here. She won’t let me come back to you.” Fat tears rolled down your cheeks, sobs shaking your shoulders as you tried to hold them back. He hated seeing you so sad, so heartbroken. But he knew what would happen if you ate a pomegranate seed. To be fair, so did you, and you were willing to do it if it meant you could see him again.

You were willing to be compelled to return, compelled so strongly that if you didn’t return your body would fall ill and weak, pain seeping into your very bones. You would need to return here, to the Underworld, or you would suffer. You would need this realm to survive. He had explained it to you when you asked, and you’d promised you would think about it. Still, he hated the very idea of you being in pain. His mind reeled with the possibilities, and as much as he hated it, you both knew how this was going to go.

____

Staring up at the god, you waited as he lost himself in thought. You didn’t want to force his hand, but if you needed to, you would. Three other deities were present, and could probably hold him long enough for you to pull a red fruit from the earth and swallow down a seed. A deep sigh came from the raven haired god, and a large hand cupped your face as he pulled you into a sweet kiss. He leaned his forehead against yours and sighed softly before speaking, his voice low. “I won’t force you, my love. It is your choice to make.”

You let out a shaky, relieved breath and pulled away from him. Extending your arm out to your side, palm down to the earth, you willed the plant to grow. In mere seconds, a tree sprouted from the dirt, a single large pomegranate glowing with the magic of the Underworld hanging just at your face. You plucked it smoothly, then let the tree shrink back down and vanish. You cracked the fruit open and held a single seed in your palm, looking to Shouta as you took a deep breath. He gave a final nod, and you popped the seed into your mouth, swallowing it whole.

You felt the magic course through you, a piece of the Underworld itself flowing through your body and making itself a part of you. Turning to the three, you spoke, radiating the confidence of a Queen and a goddess. “You three have witnessed me consume a pomegranate seed from the Underworld of my own volition. You know that Hades has not forced anything upon me.” The three nod, acknowledging the truth in your statement. You addressed the goddess of love. “Aphrodite, I believe you can confirm that I love Shouta just as he loves me, and that it was not influenced by you or Eros but developed naturally.”

She gave a sweet smile, nodding in confirmation. Turning back to Shouta, you wrapped your arms around him and he held you tight in a final embrace before you left for Olympus with Hermes, Ares, and Aphrodite. You peered up into his dark obsidian eyes. “I’ll be back, I promise.” He smiled down at you, adoration and love the only emotions in his gaze beside a tinge of despair. “I know you will, my Queen. If you are ever in danger, or if you long for me too much to bear, tap the ground and I will come to you.”

You held him close, then separated and walked to Hermes, who picked you up gently and held you to his chest. Aphrodite and Ares climbed into their own chariot and set off before you. With a final glance to the god of death, you called out to him.

“I love you Shouta.”

“I love you too (y/n).”

He and the rest of the Underworld vanished in a blur, replaced by the grand palace grounds of Olympus.

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

tag list:

@chou-maitresse

#tw: incest #tw:incest #aizawa shouta #shouta aizawa #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa bnha #aizawa mha #shouta aizawa mha #shouta aizawa bnha #shouta aizawa smut #bnha aizawa #aizawa smut #bnha #mha smut #mha #bnha smut

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madsthewordclown · 4 years ago

Text

Fire Lily | Pt. 14

Warnings: violence

a/n: I am so sorry this chapter took so long, but it’s here now! I am so grateful to all of you for being patient with me. I feel like I wrote this chapter line by line, quite literally. Enjoy!

Masterlist

The few weeks they had before the invasion flew by much quicker than Y/N could have anticipated. Her days were spent sparring with Sokka, and, with the occasional time to herself, attempting to throw fireballs at the walls of various caves they had called home. The hook swords felt so natural in her hands now, and Katara quickly extinguished any accidental fires. She wasn’t quite the fighter that everyone else was, but she could hold her own. She would be ready for the invasion.

Y/N supposed she didn’t have much choice, enjoying the quick, tight embrace from Hakoda as they met on the beach. Y/N glanced up at the sky. It was so clear—it didn’t seem fitting. Y/N’s stomach churned. They’d be okay. They had to be.

Sokka was talking—or, attempting to talk about—the plan. Y/N tried to pay attention, but all she could hear was humming. She couldn’t drag her eyes away from her foot that was tapping on the sand. She and Sokka had gone over the plan together a million times, but he couldn’t seem to speak in a full sentence. She couldn’t remember much herself, other than that the eclipse only lasted 8 minutes.

Aang had eight minutes to defeat the Fire Lord, after one hundred years of war. Eight minutes where the Fire Nation would be most vulnerable. Y/N tried to push another intrusive thought to the back of her mind; she’d be most vulnerable, too.

Y/N sensed Sokka’s dejected presence at her side as Hakoda took over, and she wanted to comfort her friend, but the words wouldn’t come. Y/N scanned the rows of fighters instead. Mostly blue-clad Water Tribe men, the swamp benders with far too little clothing for Y/N’s comfort. Some Earthbenders, including a boy with a rather unfortunate mustache.

“We will have control of the Fire Nation capital, and this war will be over!” Hakoda cried, raising a fist in the air. The crowd cheered, but the world seemed to sway under Y/N’s feet. A bird crowed, not a care in the world.

The group dispersed to prepare, and Y/N found herself sitting and observing the others as she sharpened her blades. Katara filled her waterskins, and Toph was back in her Earth Kingdom style armor. Y/N realized she was the only one left wearing red.

Y/N focused on sharpening the blades of her swords and adjusting the fasteners of her belt. After this, the war would be over. She could find her brother. She could return home, although she wasn’t sure what she would do once she got there. Y/N stood and slid her swords into place. She wished Jet were there to see it.

“What are you doing, Y/N?” Sokka approached, Katara at his side. His face was covered in Water Tribe warrior paint, the traditional armor making his look so much older. The sight stung.

“Don’t worry, I’m ready to go,” Y/N replied hastily, tightening her ponytail. There were just a few stragglers left on the beach.

“What about your armor?” Katara asked, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“This is all I have,” Y/N shrugged, tugging at the hem of her deep red shirt. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

“You seriously thought we’d let you go without armor?” Sokka’s eyes widened in shock. “Come on.”

---

“We asked Dad to make some armor for you before we split up,” Sokka explained. “I would’ve made it myself, but I figured I wouldn’t have the materials, and I was busy working on Appa’s armor…”

Y/N’s eyes stung as she looked at the deep blue leather armor in Sokka’s hands. The crescent moon emblem on the chest was replaced with a simple embroidery of the Earth Kingdom symbol in plain brown thread. Y/N gingerly reached out to touch it, the white fur lining soft in her fingers.

“Are you sure?” It was Water Tribe armor. Maybe it was made purely out of necessity, but this was their culture, their family… but the Earth Kingdom symbol was there. For her.

“We made it for you, dummy,” Katara laughed. “I added the embroidery last minute, I hope you don’t mind.”

“You know we think of you as part of our family. Not just us, but Toph and Aang, too.” Sokka gently pressed the garment into Y/N’s hands. “The Earth Kingdom symbol was Katara’s touch. We know you’re fighting for your family, too. Back home.”

“Thank you,” Y/N didn’t know what else to say, pulling the siblings into a tight hug.

“Well, I’ve got to go meet with Dad. I’ll see you guys soon, okay?” Sokka pulled away, giving you and Katara one last quick squeeze before the walking out of the belly of the ship where he had led you earlier.

“Here, let me help you,” Katara offered as Y/N pulled the armor over her head. It was so much lighter than the Fire Nation armor… Y/N turned, letting Katara do the work of tying the armor in place.

“Thanks.”

Katara finished securing the armor and sidestepped to look at Y/N’s face. “You ready?”

Y/N reached a hand up and ran a hand through her ponytail. “Actually, could you help me with one more thing?”

Katara was good with braids. Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut as Katara’s fingers ran through her hair, twisting it into a simple braid. It was like being home. Y/N could almost imagine her mother leaning over her shoulder, talking about the lilies she had planted in the garden that spring.

“The panda lilies are doing so well this year, aren’t they, darling?”

“All done,” Katara secured Y/N’s braid and laid it over her shoulder.

“Thanks, Katara.”

“If we’re going to save the world, we might as well look good doing it,” Katara joked lightly.

Y/N took a shaky breath.

“We’re going to make it, Y/N,” Katara reassured solemnly. “I know it.”

---

The beach felt less steady than the submarines. Even when she couldn’t see what was happening above her, and even with the lurching and tilting under fire was better than this. Between Katara and the swamp benders, they had a huge advantage on the water. Y/N hated how the walls rose up around the beach. She knew they wouldn’t, but it felt like they could fall on them at any moment.

Y/N kept her eyes on the battlements as she pushed forward with the other behind the Earthbenders’ protection. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for yet. But as they pressed forward, instinct overtook anxiety. Y/N wondered if this was what battle always felt like to the others. Almost like a dance.

Y/N tailed Haru as he diverged forward and left, throwing a large boulder at a Fire Nation tank, hitting it squarely. The metal let out a horrible screech, the tank being forced to a stop. Y/N rushed forward, lifting herself up over the top of the vehicle just as the Fire Nation soldier began to climb out of the top of the tank.

Y/N brought her hook swords down in a quick rhythm, sending the soldier falling onto the steel. The man recovered quickly, hopping up to stand and raising his fists. Y/N anticipated the flame, ducking as the man shot a burst of fire over her head. Y/N swung a hook around the man’s leg, sending him to the ground again.

“Haru!” Y/N shouted. Haru seemed to get the message, a chunk flying from the boulder, forming a band of stone binding the man to the tank. Y/N hopped down onto the sand, running by Haru’s side back to the nearest Earthbending tank.

Enemy fire continued to rain down from the battlements stationed on the walls on either side of the beach. Y/N grabbed Haru’s arm, dragging him down to the dirt as one got a direct hit on the vehicle carrying their boulders, sending bits of rock flying over their heads.

“I want the tanks in a wedge formation!” Sokka commands, “Warriors and benders in the middle. We’re taking that tower and heading for the Royal Palace.” Sokka points to the battlements perched on the wall. The warriors close in behind the tanks, Y/N joining them.

Sokka was built to be a leader, and it was easy to see. He had come up with this whole plan himself, and they were making ground. And while he had struggled in his speech to their small army earlier, he could take command in the field. He’d proven that.

Y/N watched Haru disappear somewhere in front of her to help propel the tanks along. The pace was dreadful—it was slow, leaving them all feeling a bit too vulnerable, but fast enough to where it was difficult to analyze what might be coming your way. Y/N could hear the screech of a Fire Nation tank somewhere forward and to the left. The men on either side of her pressed further in.

Y/N wanted to cry when she felt her feet hit solid ground. They were out of the sand, finally. Y/N could feel fire, and she wasn’t sure whether it was the fire running through her own veins or a result of the enemy fire that was no doubt being rained down on the tanks. She could see small streaks of flame peeking out over their heads from time to time, reaching over the tops of the tanks they were using for cover. But there didn’t seem to be much damage, so they pressed forward.

“Cover the back!” Bato shouted. Y/N couldn’t see where the voice was coming from but turned around. They were started to scale the incline up to the palace and wouldn’t want to chance someone from the beach possibly being on their tail.

“Let us handle it, sweet pea,” a voice to Y/N’s left said. A tall Water Tribe warrior stood next to her; his face obscured by his wolf helmet. Y/N’s blood boiled.

“I think I can handle it just fine,” she replied coolly, already stepping forward as she noticed the small band of soldiers advancing up the hill after them.

Y/N picked up her pace to a run, swords clashing with the metal armor of the soldier in a matter of moments. The soldier raised his arms, fire spewing from his fists. Y/N sidestepped, feeling the heat barely miss her side.

Y/N brought the sharp pommel of her right blade down, the soldier catching her wrist in his hold. Y/N lifted her leg, delivering the highest kick she could manage to the soldier’s gut. He stumbled back, pushing her away and sending her falling to the dirt.

Y/N fell to her back, the impact knocking the breath out of her. The soldier was recovering more quickly, already raising his arms. Y/N thought back to that night in the alley, the silver flashing in the night, as the world suddenly seemed impossibly bright.

Y/N dropped her swords and split the soldier’s fire with a flame of her own, using the soldier’s shock to spring to her feet. The soldier’s face plate had fallen to the ground in their struggle, Y/N’s heart twisting when she saw his face. He wasn’t much older than her. Y/N thought of Jain, of Bihun. Of Sokka, Katara, Toph, Aang. This boy shouldn’t be fighting.

“Traitor,” the young soldier seethed, his face contorted with rage. Y/N quickly retrieved her hook swords from the ground, shoving them into her belt. Y/N felt her own anger bubble. She was never, would never, be one of them.

Y/N let the rage release through her hands in a ball of flame, watching the boy retreat as more Water Tribe warriors descended in their direction.

Y/N jogged to catch up with the tanks that was continuing their steady climb up the hillside as she saw Appa’s large shadow descend. Y/N felt the relief flood her as her friends came into view. Hakoda was obviously injured, but alive. They were all alive. And they were winning.

“Y/N!” Katara rushed forward, pulling the other girl into a tight hug.

“Everything’s going smoothly, and the eclipse hasn’t even kicked in yet,” Sokka was saying. Katara pulled out of Y/N’s grasp, looking off into the distance.

“Let’s hope our luck holds out,” Katara muttered. Y/N could see the worry in Katara’s eyes, following her line of sight.

“Is that Aang?”

---

Y/N wandered away absentmindedly as Sokka, Katara, Aang, and Hakoda discussed their next move. She couldn’t help but to feel disheartened, but as she looked out over the beach battlefield, the pride in her chest swelled. They were winning. Y/N ran a thumb over the handle of a hook sword at her waist.

“He’d be really happy,” a voice to her left said. Y/N turned to see Pipsqueak, looking at her with an unreadable expression. “Those are his, right?”

“Yes,” Y/N answered, a little breathlessly. Her eyes stung a bit. She’d forgotten that Pipsqueak and the Duke had been Freedom Fighters, too. Before. Y/N met Pipsqueak’s eyes. “I just wish he were here to see it. It was his fight, too.”

Pipsqueak thought for a moment. “He’s here. With the Duke and me. And you.” Pipsqueak looked to the swords at Y/N’s hip again. “And a piece of him is here, on the battlefield.”

Y/N listened to the light breeze pass by, and for a moment, she thought she could sense it, too.

“Y/N!” Sokka called, breaking her from her reverie.

“Thank you,” Y/N said hastily, giving Pipsqueak’s arm a quick squeeze before going to meet the others.

Toph gave Y/N a swift punch in the arm to greet her. “Ready to go kick some Fire Lord butt?”

Y/N wanted to say no. “Yeah, of course.” Wait. “Where?”

“There are tunnels underneath the palace,” Sokka explained. “We’ve decided to keep going. We’ll finish what we started.” Sokka’s gaze turned from determined to compassionate. “If you’re okay with it.”

Y/N nodded.

“I want you to come along with in case we run into any firebenders before or after the eclipse,” Aang added. “Even if you aren’t a master bender, we could still use the extra help.”

“You’re a good fighter, Y/N,” Sokka agreed.

Y/N did feel like she’d proven herself, at least a little bit. And she wouldn’t be completely helpless without her bending during the eclipse—it wasn’t her main fighting tactic, anyway, and how many of the benders holed up underground could say the same?

Katara would stay back—Y/N got the sense that Katara wasn’t overly happy to let all four of them out of her sight—but Hakoda needed the help. Y/N promised Katara that she’d look after the others.

Y/N, Sokka, Aang, and Toph landed Appa further up at the mouth of the large volcano that Caldera rested on.

“Do you feel anything down there?” Aang questioned as Toph knelt to the ground.

“Yep. There are natural tunnels criss-crossing through the inside of the volcano,” Toph confirmed.

“Is there a structure anywhere?”

“There’s something big, dense, and metal in the middle of the volcano.”

“Sounds like a bunker to me,” Sokka stated. Toph sent dust flying as the pulled the earth away, leaving a gaping hole in the ground.

“There’ll be magma channels through there,” Y/N pointed out. It was a volcano, after all.

“Well,” Sokka gulped, looking down into the dark, “what’s the worst that could happen?”

---

As it turned out, the worst that could happen was nearly being dunked into a pool of magma. Aang had barely managed to get the four of them across the pit on his glider. Y/N never wanted to leave solid ground again.

“Couldn’t you bend some of this heat away?” Sokka asked, wiping his forehead with the back of his arm.

“Don’t you think I’d already be doing that if I could?” Y/N quipped. Honestly, she wasn’t entirely sure if that was something firebenders could do at all. She’d only ever met two, and…

Y/N’s stomach sunk further with each step closer to the bunker. What if she saw him? Y/N had blocked Zuko from her mind for so long—and she didn’t really think she’d be here, under the palace, giving chase to the Fire Lord. Y/N prayed that she wouldn’t have to face Zuko. She wasn’t sure if she could.

“Hey, Captain,” Toph said. It took Y/N a moment to realize the earthbender was talking to her.

“What?”

“You don’t need to be so nervous. Your heartbeat is so fast it’s giving me a headache.”

“Sorry,” Y/N murmured quickly. She hadn’t noticed, before, but now she was hyperaware of the pounding in her chest.

When they finally reached the metal door of the bunker, Toph pried it open with little effort.

“I am so glad we added you to the group!” Sokka exclaimed, gesticulating wildly as they climbed into the bunker. Y/N groaned—even more passageways, albeit a bit nicer than the dead magma channels. Toph pointed to the left, and they set off.

“Why does every capital city have to have underground tunnels?” Y/N wondered aloud. It was like Lake Laogai and the Earth Kingdom palace all over again. The memory of her pounding head was in the back of her mind, when Zuko had practically shoved her away down the dim passageway.

“I love it,” Toph pronounced proudly. “Finally get to be the eyes of the group,” she joked, directing them around another turn.

A Fire Nation soldier stood in the hallway. His eyes widened upon seeing them. “The Fire Lord is that way, down the hall, to the left, and up the stairs,” the man rambled fearfully. “You can’t miss it.”

“Thanks!” Aang replied joyfully. Y/N held back a giggle at the Avatar’s never-failing friendliness.

Sokka pulled out his timer from his pocket. “Thirty seconds until the eclipse.”

“Do you think it’ll feel different?” Y/N wondered aloud again. Y/N didn’t like to talk about it, but she could feel fire. Brimming, underneath the surface. All the time. Would it be gone?

No one responded—Y/N supposed they wouldn’t have an answer, and it wasn’t exactly the most pressing question in the world. And as the large doors to the Fire Lord’s chamber appeared in front of them, Y/N felt the question fade to the background, feeling a hum in her ears.

“I’m ready,” Aang said with determination. “I’m ready to face the Fire Lord.”

The doors flew open with a burst of air, sending up a small flurry of dust. Y/N squinted, expecting fire, before remembering that the eclipse would have started by now. She still felt fire under her skin.

“So, you are alive after all.” Y/N recognized that voice. Azula sat on the throne, smirking sharply. “I had a hunch that you’d survived. But no matter. I’ve known about the invasion for months.”

“Where is he?” Aang demanded. “Where is the Fire Lord?”

“Aw, I’m not good enough for you?” Azula pouted, rising from the throne haughtily. “You’re hurting my feelings.” Azula’s golden eyes scanned the four of them, finally landing on Y/N.

“Oh, you picked up a little stray?” Azula raised an eyebrow, looking Y/N up and down. “I figured she was taken care of in Ba Sing Se.”

“Stop,” Y/N spoke, willing her voice to sound commanding.

“You’re powerless right now, so you’re in no position to refuse,” Sokka agreed, his expression steely.

“I can tell if you lie,” Toph threatened. Azula looked up for a moment, thinking.

“I am a four hundred feet tall purple platypus bear with pink horns and silver wings.”

Toph’s smug expression faltered. “You’re good,” Toph said, moving her arms, sending a cage of earth around Azula. “But you should consider telling the truth anyway.”

Almost as soon as the stone had solidified around the Fire Nation princess, it crumbled away, Azula brushing off the dust from her clothing casually. “When I came home from Ba Sing Se, I brought a souvenir.”

The shadows of two Dai Li agents dropped from the ceiling, landing gracefully on the stone floor to flank Azula.

Y/N stuck to Sokka’s side. Azula was at a disadvantage without her bending, but so were they. Earthbenders held all the cards in an underground battle. Y/N and Sokka ran after Azula as Toph and Aang held back the Dai Li.

After a few moments, Aang flew by them in a whirl, attempting to catch Azula as Toph secured cuffs of earth around the girl’s feet. Sokka slowed, realization dawning on his face.

“Aang, stop! She’s just wasting our time.”

“Are we just supposed to leave her?” Aang called back. Azula had stopped running, looking at them with yet another amused smirk.

Sokka was right. They were wasting valuable eclipse time chasing the princess, and it was clear she wasn’t about to talk.

“We have to go and find the Fire Lord ourselves.”

Aang nodded in agreement as they turned to walk away. Y/N didn’t like turning her back on the Fire Nation princess, but a quick attempt at lighting a flame in her hand reassured her that they would be safe.

“It’s a trap. Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Azula’s voiced called coolly.

“Ignore!” Sokka shouted back, raising a hand to emphasize his point. A beat passed.

“You’re Sokka, right?” Azula asked casually. Y/N noticed Sokka’s steps slow ever so slightly. “My favorite prisoner used to mention you all the time.” Sokka stopped dead in his tracks, glaring back at the princess.

“Sokka, let’s go,” Y/N whispered, giving Sokka’s sleeve a light tug. Azula continued.

“She was convinced you were going to come rescue her. Of course,” Azula sighed, “you never came, and she gave up on you.”

“Sokka,” Y/N muttered in warning and concern, watching her friend’s eyes well up with tears.

Sokka sprinted back towards Azula, pinning the girl to the stone wall. Y/N looked at Aang, who looked completely helpless to the situation. “Go!” Y/N shouted, before running over to Sokka.

“Where. Is. Suki?” Sokka demanded, pressing harder on Azula’s shoulders. Y/N slowed as she approached, keeping her right hand poised on the handle of her hook sword.

“Where is she?!?” Sokka repeated, rage evident in his voice. Y/N had never seen him like this. It was difficult to keep a level head.

“Sokka, we have to go,” Y/N said shakily, “she won’t talk.”

“Where are you keeping her?” Sokka asked again, his voice shaking with anger and hurt. Azula didn’t address him, turning to Y/N.

“I’m sorry you survived, Y/N,” Azula drawled, “having to find out the truth about your little boyfriend like that. Although I don’t know why he’d associate himself with a commoner to begin with. Good thing his girlfriend hasn’t found out about you.”

“Sokka, let’s go,” Y/N insisted, finally grabbing Sokka by the shoulders and wrenching him away. Y/N didn’t let go as they started to walk down the hall, feeling her own body shaking as much as his.

“Oh,” Azula’s voice said again, “guess the firebending’s back on.”

Y/N and Sokka whipped around as Azula send a flash of blue flame their way, propelling herself out of her restraints. Azula sent another wide blast of fire their direction. Y/N instinctively pulled Sokka behind her, using her own flame to block the strike.

Azula’s eyes widened. “Oh, Zuzu didn’t tell me you were a traitor, too…” Azula glanced down for a moment. Y/N’s adrenaline surged. “Dad is all the way at the end of the hall and then down a secret stairway on the left. I’m sure he’d be more than happy to see you now.” With that, Azula turned and ran down the hall.

“I used up all our time.” Sokka hung his head in shame.

“It’s not your fault. Azula had everything planned out,” Y/N reassured. Azula had just outsmarted them. Again. “Come on,” Y/N started jogging down the hall. “We need to find Aang and Toph.”

---

“I can still face him!” Aang insisted when Y/N and Sokka reconvened with Aang and Toph.

“We need to leave, now,” Y/N argued.

“We thought we had surprise on our side, and we didn’t,” Toph agreed. “It just wasn’t our day.”

“We’ll get another chance,” Sokka insisted. They had to.

“We need to get back up to the surface and help the others,” Y/N pressed. She wanted out of this tunnel before they ran into yet another member of the royal family. Y/N felt claustrophobic, the tunnel walls seeming more like a trap by the minute.

“Okay,” Aang agreed sullenly. “I guess you guys are right.”

Toph wasted no time in leading them out of the tunnels, luckily through a different route than where they had come. Y/N enjoyed seeing the sky again, but she could smell the smoke in the air. That wasn’t good.

War balloons cast dark shadows over the ground as they flew Appa back to the other troops. They were so far up the hillside now—the beach was so far away.

“We have to get back to the beach!” Sokka shouted as soon as they were in range to be heard. “Azula knew we were coming, we have to go!”

Appa landed with a grunt, and Y/N slid down from the saddle, feeling a bit more sting than normal as her feet hit the ground.

“I can try to slow them down,” Aang said, opening his glider before quickly taking off into the air. Momo flew off after him as Katara climbed up onto Appa’s saddle.

“Appa and I can help, too,” Katara said with a steely resolve. “Yip yip!”

“Let’s get back to the subs!” Sokka commanded. Y/N took off with the rest of the group into a sprint down the hillside.

Y/N heard the crashing of airships behind them, but soon enough their shadows could be seen on the ground in front of her. Sokka was shouting something about cover, and Y/N hit the ground hard as Toph bent the earth to form a shield around the three of them.

Dust and little pieces of rock fell on Y/N’s head as the stone shook from an impact. Suddenly, the pain in Y/N’s leg felt sharper. Stinging.

Toph pulled the stone away when the bombs finally stopped falling. The war balloons had already flown past them.

“They’re heading toward the beach…” Aang trailed off. “They’re going to destroy the submarines!”

“How are we all going to escape?” Sokka hung his head.

“We’re not.” Hakoda looked out as the bombs dropped down into the water. “You kids have to leave. You’ll escape on Appa together.”

“We’re not leaving you behind.” Katara stepped forward.

“You’re our only chance in the long run.” Hakoda’s eyes were sad. “You and Sokka have to escape with Aang. It’s the only way to keep hope alive.”

“The youngest will go with you,” Bato agreed. “The adults will surrender. We’ll be prisoners, but everyone will survive.”

Y/N wanted to protest, but they were right. The submarines were long gone, and the war balloons would be coming back their direction.

The goodbyes were tearful, and Y/N envied the pride in Hakoda’s eyes as he hugged Katara and Sokka. Sokka climbed up onto Appa last. Hakoda met Y/N’s eyes, raising his hand to give a salute.

Y/N returned it with a sad smile as Aang thanked them all. “I’m gonna make this up to you,” Aang promised. Appa lifted into the air with quite some effort from the extra weight. Y/N kept her eyes on the remaining soldiers until they disappeared over the next hill.

Masterlist

taglist: @kaylove12, @akariblue, @wolfiemichele, @aquatickanye, @sunflowerr-mami, @nadiblue. @la3divine, @sarsky, @aangsupremacy, @good-ones-are-taken

#atla #atla fanfic #the day of black sun #zuko x reader #eventual zuko x reader #zuko x y/n #gaang x reader #avatar: tla

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tallstars-rewrite · 3 years ago

Text

Chapter 27

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“What are the tenets of the warrior code?” Dawntripe asked.

Tallpaw sat up straight as he recited. “A warrior protects the helpless: no kit or sick will be left behind. A warrior has mercy for their enemies: they do not seek to spread death unnecessarily. A warrior values life, and is without greed: they never take their prey or land for granted and thank StarClan for all our blessings. A warrior rejects trading freedom and dignity for a chained life of comfort. And above all, our lives and loyalty is to our clan, whatever the cost.” Tallpaw had spent ages memorizing the right words to say and the intensity with how to say them until he knew it like the back of his paw. He felt a rush of relief when Heatherstar nodded her approval.

“You have trained him well, Dawnstripe. His progress has been impressive.” She said and Dawnstripe purred with pride for her apprentice as Heatherstar continued, “I think you were right in recommending him to take his assessment now. As long as you remember, young Tallpaw, that you will be judged harshly. Most apprentices would need to train at least another moon before being considered for their full warriors ceremony.”

Tallpaw dipped his head “I understand Heatherstar. Thank you for the opportunity. I promise I will not let you down.”

He spoke with practiced evenness that he had been mastering throughout his training, since indeed he felt or thought very little that was not dedicated to improving his ability and impressing his elders. He offered first to join every patrol that would have him, extended training sessions well past sunhigh when the rest of the clan dozed, and spent most of his downtime cleaning nests and fetching fresh bedding. Though often exhausted and sore, his body had never failed him. Keeping busy kept him focused and even sometimes kept the dreams away. Even so, Tallpaw felt like it wasn’t enough. There was still upset restlessness in his belly. A restlessness he was sure would be satisfied as soon as he’d proven himself worthy of his name.

Heatherstar eyed him. “Hareflight informs me Shrewpaw is ready to take his assessment again. All the better for apprentices to take it together. You will both be ready by evening, I presume?”

“Yes Heatherstar,” Tallpaw said. He hid his irritation at the thought of dealing with Shrewpaw throughout this important trial. Heatherstar wanted to know he was above letting personal squabbles get in the way of what needed to be done, but Tallpaw was not confident the high strung tom would not do something to try and sabotage him. But surely...after already failing an assessment, even Shrewpaw wouldn’t risk doing anything to jeopardize this one. We both want the same thing. And after it’s done, hopefully I won’t have to think of him again.

Even so, a battle assessment against Shrewpaw was not something he looked forward to. Shrewpaw could easily match many of the best warriors in his fighting skills. It was certainly not raw ability that had been holding him back from his name. Tallpaw shook the apprehension buzzing around in his head like a fly away to the back of his mind. He could handle Shrewpaw. It didn’t matter if the battle assessments were won, it was about the skill shown during it. And he knew Shrewpaw well enough by now to know exactly how he fought. Being ‘just good enough’ isn’t going to cut it. I need to be better. And I will. Shrewpaw isn’t going to get in my way.

***

“An enemy has invaded,” Dawnstripe debriefed Tallpaw and Shrewpaw, who stood side by side, stiffly avoiding each other's gaze. Hareflight acted as the intruder. There was almost an ease when they didn’t have to speak to each other, and relied only on tail signals and the steps they knew by heart.

The ambush went off without a hitch. Tallpaw used his size advantage to bowl Hareflight off his paws while Shrewpaw lashed out with lightning fast paw strikes.

“You did well, keeping track of each other.” Hareflight said, catching his breath as he picked himself up. He looked relieved. “I am impressed.”

The next part was a little more nerve wracking. One on one combat. Shrewpaw eyed Tallpaw carefully as they circled each other, and arched his back in a menacing snarl. It was all postering of course, Shrewpaw was certainly very good at that. His unkempt dark brown fur bristled to make him look twice his size. But Tallpaw knew in the back of his mind that it wasn’t all acting. Shrewpaw rarely needed to fake anger, especially directed towards him.

Tallpaw struck first this time, feigning the left and then boxing Shrewpaw hard on the side of the head. Shrewpaw responded just as fast, and shoved into Tallpaw’s chest. The toms grappled each other and wrestled fighting for an advantage. Shrewpaw had latched himself to Tallpaw’s side and was very difficult to get off, like an obnoxious little thorn. At last, he shook Shrewpaw’s grip loose and they broke off. Shrewpaw spat out a small clump of fur and circled again.

“You’ll have to do more than cling like a burr,” Tallpaw growled.

“Will I?” Shrewpaw spat “You fall like a tree, and then all you do is flail.”

“Only if you can actually knock me down first.”

Their voices were hushed. Their mentors were a distance off, watching their moves without getting in the way. Shrewpaw took Tallpaw’s challenge and grappled around his neck and shoulders. Tallpaw bit at him but somehow Shrewpaw scratched onto his back and yanked his scruff. The feel of needle sharp claws digging into his flesh made him gasp. He can’t seriously mean to start a real fight now. Tallpaw was more angry than anything else. He snarled and took Shrewpaws forepaw in his jaws and bit harder than he normally would, then yanked him sideways, wincing as claws dug in harder. “Can’t you fight like you're supposed to for once?” Tallpaw growled. “Are you sure you even know how to behave like a warrior?”

He thought Shrewpaw might have laughed. “Rich coming from you, go on and tattle on me then. You know you can’t beat me in a real fight.”

“I’m not here to prove myself to a fox-hearted kit.” Tallpaw hissed in his face.

Shrewpaw struck him surprisingly hard, and his nose felt wet. “Who do you have to prove yourself to? You're pathetic, and so transparent.”

“Just shut up and fight me Shrewpaw.” Tallpaw growled.

“I’m glad you feel guilty, you know. You deserve to. You got what you deserved and lost what I lost, and you have no one to blame but yourself.”

Tallpaw knew, somewhere in the back of his head, that Shrewpaw was only saying something so awful because he desperately wanted him to lash out first. To do something obvious that would cause him to fail, and delay his ceremony.

He knew that, and yet anger blurred Tallpaw’s vision as he slammed into Shrewpaw and sank his teeth into his scruff, shaking him hard. Shrewpaw clawed into the back of his neck and bit at his face. Tallpaw’s eyes were squeezed shut but didn’t pull away. The two toms rolled into the grass and kicked and swiped but Tallpaw refused to yowl when Shrewpaw stuck his claws into his pelt. It was as if Shrewpaw was daring him to. Go on and yowl, they’ll stop us. But he wouldn’t. Shrewpaw wouldn’t either. Tallpaws back stung everywhere. But he kept his rage on a leash and always stopped just short of cutting too much skin, letting teeth pinched flesh painfully without tearing it. Just enough to keep it from showing.

Dawnstripe bounded up to him, her fur bristled a bit and she looked wary.

“That’s enough. You’re both clearly capable.” Hareflight said, looking suspiciously at Shrewpaw’s pelt at a small dark stain soaking in beneath his tabby fur. It was unclear if it was from Tallpaw’s cuts or his own. Tallpaw stiffened at the sight of it.

Suddenly, Shrewpaw laughed.

“Guess we both got a bit caught up in it, huh Tall?” he said with a purr.

Tallpaw gaped at him for only a moment. But he forced his fur to lie flat.

“Yeah, I’m sorry Dawnstripe. My eagerness got the better of me. I’m alright though, Are you Shrew?”

“Course, just a scratch!”

Tallpaw felt a rush of relief as their mentors seemed to have bought it. It wasn’t so unusual for cats to get over eager and let their claws slip a little, was it? It didn’t mean anything bad. Dawnstripe and Hareflight nodded in satisfaction, looking relieved at the apprentice's apparent ease with each other. “Be a bit more careful in your spars. But I know how eager you are, Shrewpaw” Hareflight said. “We’ll move on to the last part. If you agree, Dawnstripe?”

Dawnstripe nodded. “Unless you need a brief rest to tend to those scratches.”

“No, we’re fine, it’s nothing.” Tallpaw mewed. He searched her gaze for a hint of suspicion. He stopped his tail twitching and smiled at her. There’s nothing to worry about, he thought desperately. He felt he’d gotten good at convincing her of that, it was the only way she was letting him take the assessment early.

Soon, the apprentices were both making their way to where they would have their hunting tests. Tallpaw felt faint claws of guilt poking at him. He really hated lying to Dawnstripe, even about small things. She deserved better than that. But he had to do this. He needed to become a warrior, and he needed her to believe he could do it. The friendly gleam in Shrewpaw’s eyes turned cold again the moment their mentors turned.

Nice try, but you can’t mess me up without taking yourself down with me. Tallpaw thought bitterly. Hate me all you want, but we’re going to get through this.

Unfortunately even when they split up, his fur still pricked and his claws itched with frustration. But he knew clawing Shrewpaw wouldn’t make it any better.

***

Tallpaw’s feet thudded across the ground, all his senses honed in on the small hare sprinting ahead of him. I just need to catch this, and then I’ll be one step closer. One step closer to it all paying off.

Shrewpaw might be faster with his claw strikes, but he wasn’t a match for Talltail’s speed. A hare, even a very young one, was much faster and more clever than a rabbit, not to mention much more dangerous. Which was exactly why that was Tallpaw’s chosen prey. The hare banked sharply to the right and Tallpaw let his body react for him, his long tail streaming behind him, anchoring his weight as he turned just as sharp. I’d like to see Shrewpaw pull off a turn like that, he almost laughed. It was surprising that even now, he could forget that Shrewpaw had no interest in competing with him anymore. There was less glory in it. They both just wanted to be done with each other. Tallpaw tried not to think about the hollow sound of the ground under his paws. There must be a tunnel. Hare’s didn’t burrow like rabbits, but he wasn’t sure if it would try for a hole in a last desperate attempt to escape. It sent a bolt of fear through him. He wouldn’t have the guts to chase this prey down a hole, but he didn’t want to fail either. Tallpaw pressed himself harder than he ever had before, forcing his paws to pick up more speed. This hare would not ruin his assessment. No matter how hard he pushed himself, the creature stayed ahead of him. He pushed until he felt his lungs would burst, but it still wasn’t quite enough. Why isn’t it enough, just...stop! There was a thick gorse patch ahead, too narrow for him to follow. The hare was headed for it. With a cry of frustration he sprang as it began to duck into a narrow hole amongst sharp branches and stone. It screamed as his claws connected with its hindquarters. Tallpaw struggled against it, trying to dodge its wildly kicking legs. It was a small hare, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t strong. He wanted to yowl in pain when it kicked him hard in the neck, but it just made his frustration flare up.

“You stupid creature!” he hissed “Just die already!”

He hauled it back hard and fought to grip its neck, but missed, and it turned its head to snap at his face. Even when it tore a small chunk out of his check with its sharp front teeth, he refused to give in. The kill was messy as Tallpaw fought with the hare that was trying to drag itself, and him, into the dark crevice under the thorns. At last a final burst of determination let him connect his teeth with its neck and tear a hole into it. The creature finally lay still as blood pooled around it. Tallpaw quickly dragged it all the way back, wincing at the blood trickling down his face.

He looked down with a twinge of guilt at the mess he had made of the prey. His claw marks scored down its sides and its fur clumped with blood and kicked up soil. Why would he get so angry at a creature trying to escape? Hares were a respected animal in WindClan, one of the few things swifter than themselves. It was clearly not full grown, otherwise he wouldn't have had a prayer of taking it down. It was a pitiful, messy way to be killed.

“Sorry,” he mumbled as he blinked down at the hare. “Thank you for your life.”

It was probably silly to feel so guilty over prey. Tallpaw stared at its body longer than he should have. It put up a fight, and to be caught by such a lousy hunter… He pictured eyes of hunters past shaking their heads at him. But all he could do was hope Dawnstripe hadn’t heard him yelling at it from wherever she was watching from. He’d caught the young hare, and now all he could was not put it to waste.

“Congratulations,” Dawnstripe’s purr caught him off guard. She was closer than he’d thought.

“I almost lost track of you. You're incredibly fast. I wasn’t sure you would do it when you chose that as your target, but you really pulled it off.” Dawnstripe sniffed the hare appreciatively.

Tallpaw dipped his head in thanks. So she hadn’t seen what a messy kill it was. The scratches were covered up in dirt.

“You’ve done well today, Tallpaw.” Dawnstripe said. “I think you’ve shown you're ready. You’ve improved so fast over these moons, and I’ve taught you all the skills you need to hunt and fight. There’s only one more thing to do. It’s nearly sunrise now, so we’ll return to camp and wait for Hareflight.”

They didn’t talk on the walk back as she had to help him drag the catch. He couldn’t help but feel there was more to Dawnstripe’s words when she said he knew how to hunt and fight. It felt like there was something she was leaving out that he still didn’t know. He wished he knew what it was.

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#cw animal death #canon typical violence #FRU27 #chapter 27

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dottie-wan-kenobi · 4 years ago

Text

A Zutara, Oma&Shu soulmates fic

---

“Something’s not right,” Aang told them one night, under a canopy of trees and stars. He didn’t look at either of them, his eyes pointed not at the sky, but through the foliage, like he was seeing through it to something beyond their view.

“With the camp?” Sokka asked. He was in an exceptionally good mood; he’d caught a few fish while hunting. “That’s okay, buddy, we still have a bit of starlight, we can move around if you want to.”

“No, I mean with me. Something feels different. It’s like there’s this hole in my chest.”

Katara and Sokka glanced at each other, concern written over both of their features. “Not, like, a physical hole, right?” Sokka asked nervously.

Aang shook his head. “I think something’s missing,” he said finally. His voice was quiet, distracted, almost… otherworldly in a way. He didn’t look away from the tree-line. “But I don’t know what.”

Katara didn’t know how to help him. It hurt to think that he was in pain and that there was nothing to do about it. She laid down in her bedroll, restless and positive it would take all night to fall asleep. But that wasn’t the case—as soon as she closed her eyes, she was dreaming.

There was a woman there. Dressed in elegant purple, she danced in the light of the moon. She was Water Tribe, but Katara couldn’t tell North or South, the fashion unlike anything she knew. Though Katara had never seen her before—a twinge in the back of her mind said that she had, but Katara was sure she would’ve remembered this woman—she knew her face was usually tense, holding a fear that Katara didn’t understand in the lines of her mouth. In this vision, however, the woman was smiling, at peace. Her brown eyes glittered as sand crunched under their feet.

Sand? Katara wondered. Where were they? She looked around, and found more vaguely familiar landscapes, Earth Kingdom in nature. But why were they there?

“Come on,” she said, pulling Katara out of her thoughts, to her feet and into the dancing circle. Holding hands, Katara looked down at herself and saw she was wearing yellow robes much like the air benders used to wear, warm but not as thick as furs were.

She didn’t have to think as they began moving together. Katara knew the steps instinctively, and never looked away from the woman’s beautiful eyes. The rest of the scene, if there ever had been one, faded away as Katara wrapped herself up in her partner. There was something so captivating about her, like this was right where they were meant to be, together and smiling.

There was a moment, eventually, where they tripped and went crashing to the ground. The woman was under her, dark hair splayed out in the sand, and laughed, lifting her hands to cup Katara’s face.

“My love,” Katara sighed blissfully. It wasn’t her voice, but it didn’t feel wrong to her dreaming self.

The woman began to say something—but then her eyes slid over Katara’s shoulder. The fear returned tenfold. Their bodies flipped as the woman threw herself over Katara, but it was too late. Her hands shaking, she reached for her side, and found an arrow sticking out, turning her yellow dress red.

“No,” the woman gasped. Her arms cradled Katara close, tears suddenly streaming down her beautiful face. “No!”

Katara woke, shaking, the woman’s voice echoing relentlessly through her head. “No, no, no….”

Sokka jerked awake. He crawled towards her, wrapping her up in his arms, and though it reminded her all too sharply of the woman, she accepted the comfort, sobbing into his shoulder. He rocked them back and forth like he always did when they were kids. “What’s wrong? Sis, what’s wrong?”

“My love,” was all she could manage to get out. Her chest felt like it was caving in. One of her hands pressed uselessly against her side, but there was no injury and no blood.

Aang stared at them both, for once not rushing to comfort his friend.

Ancient recognized ancient, you see. And it was then that Aang began to make sense of the sparks on Katara’s soul… and his own.

Zuko hated himself. One interaction with the Water Tribe girl, one glimpse even, and his heart went into overdrive. All of the weird, nonsensical thoughts he’d had his whole life bubbled up to the surface of his mind. The memory of her necklace, how he’d had to have it on him at all times, how it had comforted him to brush his thumb over the ridges on the pendant, it struck him again and again.

He hated to see her go. He hated the way she looked at him, disgusted and angry and rightfully so. Pathetically, he even hated the way she spoke to him. Not because he didn’t want her standing up to him—he knew very well that she wasn’t a weakling, wasn’t one to be pushed around—but because it wasn’t… gods, he could barely admit it even to himself.

Stop being a coward, he spat in the confines of his own mind.

It wasn’t kind. That was the issue. Not that he deserved her kindness, or should even want it. But everything within him rebelled when they said cruel words to each other. He had no idea why he felt like that, why he knew with such conviction that it wasn’t right, but he did. It wasn’t supposed to be that way.

But supposed-to’s, he knew, rarely withstood reality.

And the reality was that they were enemies. As long as she stood between him and his destiny—capturing the Avatar, finally being able to go home and get his honor back—that would never change.

Fighting him at the Spirit Oasis and later on the ice was something Katara would not soon forget.

It was electric, moving in tandem as they shot water and fire at each other. She had never felt so powerful, not even when she fought Pakku, and she reveled in it, used it to her advantage. Zuko was a fool to fight her on her own element, surrounded by it. Some part of her grudgingly could admit that he was talented, that fighting him left her blood singing. Mostly she was just angry and terrified for Aang, for the Northern Water Tribe, for Yue.

There was a small voice in her gut that told her they shouldn’t be fighting each other. That neither should raise a hand or an element against the other like this. But she ignored it—this was no time to be questioning whether he was an enemy or not, or whether it was right to protect Aang from him. Obviously it was right; she couldn’t let him destroy the hope of the world. It was that thought that pounded through her head as she attacked, and that thought only.

Later, when it was all over, Aang laid in Appa’s saddle and looked at her with new eyes. She tried to be brave and meet his gaze, but there was some part of her, some hidden sliver, that shied away from him. Danger, it whispered. He’s dangerous. It’s not time yet.

She didn’t know what it was supposed to mean, but it curled anxiously in her stomach. It’s not time yet was both a comfort and a source of unease. Not time yet for what, she wondered, then shook her head and stuffed it down as far as she could.

More important things filled her thoughts, then. Aang told them about the Spirit World, but she could tell he was holding something back.

Kindly, she reached out a hand to him. He took it, and instead of danger, she felt calm. Unconsciously, she knew that she was safe with him, and him with her. “What is it? You can tell us anything, Aang.”

“I know,” he said, but his smile was strained. He couldn’t quite meet her eye. “I… I found out something about the night I ran away. I could tell the other Avatars weren’t telling me everything, but… maybe that was for the best.”

“You deserve to know what’s going on with you, Aang.”

“Thank you, Katara. It’s just, I found out… that night. My spirit—the Avatar’s spirit—split in half.” He pulled his hand away, curling into himself.

“What?” Katara and Sokka both asked, shocked. Sokka was on the reins but turned his head to face them, uncaring or unaware that his red eyes and wet cheeks were obvious to them both. (Neither of them were going to judge him, but he had always tried to deal with grief on his own. They would be there for him when he was ready to share it.)

“I—I thought that was just an old spirit’s tale,” Sokka said.

“I don’t think it was supposed to happen,” Aang said, looking down at his hands. “But I guess my soul was scared, or sensed I was close to death, or something. It wasn’t explained that much. But it means that… I have to find the other half before we could end the war.”

Sokka asked, “How are we supposed to find it? It’s in the Spirit World right? You can’t just take a trip there—”

“Apparently, the other half was reborn,” Aang interrupted. “They’re somewhere out there. I can feel them, I have ever since I woke up. I just didn’t realize….”

Something about that resonated with her. She remembered the vision she’d had, of standing on the edge of the ice and feeling a call towards the horizon. It’s not time yet. “Where do we look?”

“The Earth Kingdom,” Aang said resolutely. He had that look in his eyes again, like he was seeing through the space around them, pointed in a direction Katara suddenly understood—towards the other half of his soul.

She sighed, and looked behind them. For some reason, she thought of Zuko.

Stop it, she told herself, furious. And then, nonsensically, It’s not time yet.

“You can still bend, though, right?” Sokka asked, glancing across the campsite to where Katara was sleeping. Though he was talking to Aang, he couldn’t help but watch, worried she’d have some nightmare again. “Do you think they can bend like you can?”

Aang shrugged. He knew he could water bend, and had done small things with the earth and fire, but that was it. Spirits, but he hoped things would start to make sense soon.

“Do you want them to?”

Aang tried to imagine that, not being the only person in the world who could wield all the elements. He always felt this inescapable loneliness in the back of his mind, the knowledge that he was the only one left—the only air bender, the only Avatar—weighing heavily on him. It was an easy answer—“Yeah.” But something Roku had told him made him think maybe his soulmate, whoever they were, wouldn’t be able to.

They are their own person, their own body. Together, you are stronger, but your abilities are not lessened or taken away in their absence. Neither shall theirs.

With that in mind, he added, “I won’t mind if they can’t. It would be a lot of fun, but I’ll be happy just to have them. The bending doesn’t matter so much.”

Sokka accepted this with a hum and a nod, his eyes flicking up from the ground to his sister, then to the sky. He wasn’t sure it was his place to ask, but he had to protect her any way he could. Hopefully she wouldn’t be mad. Inhaling deeply, he asked, “Did the spirits say anything about my sister?”

Aang peered at Katara. She was his best friend, and he wanted to protect her too. If he told Sokka what he knew, would that help? Would that make things harder for her?

Really, he knew the answer. None of that mattered, because she would want to know, no matter the risk or the hurt or the confusion it might bring.

“Not exactly,” he hedged. “They said I had powerful allies at my side and more are coming. My destiny is all tangled up with two powerful souls. It seems like there’s a lot going on behind the scenes we don’t know about.”

“And my sister is one of those souls? They said that?”

“No, they didn’t say who. But I think she’s one of them because—”

“Because why?” Sokka demanded, upset, searching his face like the spirits might come out right then and explain what was going on with Katara.

“Because her soul is ancient, Sokka. Maybe even as old as mine.”

“What does that mean? What should we do?”

Aang helplessly shook his head. As much as he wished he did, he had no idea what it all meant. The other Avatars had given him more questions than answers.

Together, they watched Katara smile in her sleep. “Love,” she whispered, and Aang was suddenly reminded of sunshine on a hill, unknown voices speaking unknown words somewhere just out of sight. But he was certain of one thing: Katara was there with him.

The sun beat down harshly as Zuko and Iroh drifted. Even lit by the source of his element, he was exhausted, physically and mentally sick over all that had occurred. There was no relief from the losses they had incurred, bodies floating around their piece of driftwood, salt water stinging in his open wounds. They had nothing now—no ship, no crew, no Avatar. Tui, the great spirit Tui, had died. A girl had died to take his place. Zhao was dead, too, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel grief or joy either way for the man.

Death overwhelmed him even more than thirst or hunger or delusions.

Uncle told him, later, that he was muttering about his old imaginary friend again. His love.

“Why do you think of them now?” Iroh asked curiously. He’d been wondering about this soul Zuko spoke about ever since he first mentioned them. He had an idea about what it could mean, but if it was what he thought, then he knew it was not his place to interfere.

It wasn’t Zuko who said the words, who said, “My love always dies. I can think of nothing but mourning,” but it was his mouth and his voice. His tears that welled up in his eyes as the sun stayed overhead, terrible in its unending shine.

Kya stood there in the Swamp. Her back was turned to Katara, but she would have known her mom anywhere—the wavy brown hair, the furs she wore, even the way she stood with her shoulders back and her feet slightly apart.

“Mom!” She cried, running for her, uncaring about the gross swamp water that splashed all over. “Mom!”

For years, all she’d wanted was to see her mom again. To be held by her, to ask her questions, to hear her voice and feel the warmth of her smile. Katara threw out a hand to reach for her shoulder, but abruptly, the vision faded, her hand falling through air thick with humidity.

The shock of it took a second to settle in before it exploded inside of her. Falling to her knees, she sobbed and sobbed. She lost track of time, but it didn’t matter anyway. Everything was going wrong, they would be stuck there forever, she was lost and her friends were lost too, it wasn’t time yet—and yet it was, because surely they would never leave this horrible, horrible place.

“Get up, my love,” a voice whispered. She whipped her head around, hoping for her mother though she could tell instinctively it wasn’t. There was no one around, not that she could see anyway. Annoyed to have been interrupted in her grief, she scoffed and wiped her cheeks. Stumbling to her feet, she scanned the spot her mother had stood one last time, but no. It was empty.

An invisible touch lingered, suddenly, on her shoulder. Jerking the sensation away and spinning in a circle, she still saw no one. “Come on!” She screamed, furious. “Show yourself!”

The only response she got was an unnatural stillness. There would be no more visions today.

Everything happened so fast that Zuko could barely remember the torture of the ocean anymore. Now, when he closed his eyes, he saw his sister. He saw lightning. He saw his father’s face, that last time they had seen each other—the grim malice in his eyes as he burnt his only son.

Uncle tried to be cheerful, finding good in every miserable day that passed them by. Tea leaves here, a rainbow there, beautiful flowers and weird animals, nature as a whole fascinated him. He pointed new things out with infuriating regularity, and it took everything in Zuko not to blow up and shout at him that he just didn’t care about any of it. How could he? How could he care about anything when this was their life now. They were fugitives. They were both banished. They would never go home, he would never catch the Avatar, they’d be stuck in the Earth Kingdom until they were caught or killed. He couldn’t imagine a future where he lived. There didn’t seem to be a point.

Even without saying any of this out loud, Uncle seemed to be able to tell what he was thinking. He didn’t stop trying to cheer him up, of course. But he let nights be quiet, sipping his tea and gazing at the stars and leaving Zuko be.

Those were his only peaceful moments, but even then, the peace was fragile and tiny and easily overtaken by his other thoughts. Sister. Lightning. Father. Fire. He wasn’t sure if thoughts of Katara, infrequent though he allowed them to be, were a relief or not.

Maybe it was better Uncle never shut up. At least then he didn’t have to hear himself think.

Watching Toph and Aang interact was strangely painful for Katara.

They understood each other better than anyone she had ever seen before. Whole conversations of cut-short sentences and half thoughts were shared, and were apparently completely understandable to them both. At least Sokka was confused too. But he didn’t seem to mind the way Aang and their new friend connected on a level incomprehensible to them both. He threw himself into traveling and training and other things, and didn’t have time to watch them jump feet-first into a friendship. But Katara, who Toph didn’t quite get along with yet, did.

Soulmates were something of a fairy tale back home. No one really believed in them, or at least didn’t believe that anyone they knew would find theirs. Love didn’t have to be destined to be enough, and it could be found anywhere, in anyone. Watching them, though, she could easily see what made the difference between a regular relationship and that of soulmates.

They moved in sync. They got each other’s jokes. When they argued, it wasn’t miscommunication bogging them down, it was their similar personalities finding clashes where they usually found agreement.

She felt, constantly, like she was missing out. She wasn’t jealous of Toph, being Aang’s soulmate. Rather, she was jealous that they had theirs, even though she knew how difficult it was for Aang—for them both, probably—to be without. She was glad they had each other, really, and not just because now Aang could start to learn to earth bend.

When she dreamed, she saw the hills and sprawling city of Omashu. Something felt not-quite-right about it, but she ignored that for now, having some sort of destination in mind. Unsure exactly what it was, she followed her feet to a peak not too far away. Blue robes swished around her feet. She could tell, instinctively, that she was a man, but this didn’t seem odd to her.

There were several peaks nearby, but her eyes went straight to one specific one, where a woman in red was waving her hand. Katara beamed—her love was here.

If there was more after that, she didn’t remember it. When she got up for the day, her chest felt a little lighter, and she went to make breakfast with a smile. Once it was done, she went to poke at Toph, the last of them to get up.

“Go away, Shu,” Toph mumbled, still mostly asleep.

Katara’s heart started to pound immediately. “What did you call me?”

Toph just snored. When she woke up later, pushing Sokka’s hands away from where he’d shook her, she didn’t remember their moment. But Katara couldn’t forget.

#zutara #oma and shu #zutara fic #zuko x katara #katara x zuko #atla fic #zuko #katara #atla #my writing #if this damn read more doesn't work im sorry i don't know what to say

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faangirl101 · 4 years ago

Text

Burning Heart: Pt 1

Burning heart masterlist

Pairing: Zuko x reader, Zuko x y/n

Tags: Enemies to lovers, slow burn

Summary: Raised mostly by yourself, you made a living for your youth years as a maid in one of the richest families in Ba sing se, Beifongs. There Toph, a blind young rich girl, taught you earth bending and also became your new family. Not that you would admit that to her. Together you escape Ba sing se on the back of a flying bison with the Avatar, in a mission to take back the world from the fire nation. But on the journey you didn't plan to team up with the Fire prince himself, and you definitely did not plan to get butterflies around him. But you couldn't possibly catch feelings for a fire bender right? They ruined your life and took everything of value from you. But you couldn't lie to your burning heart.

Warnings: swearing

The Western Air temple

The sun's streaks felt like fire licking our exposed arms. The heat evaporating from the cracked surface under our feet was almost as hot as the burning shame in returning empty handed on foot from the eclipse battle. “This is humiliating”, Katara mumbled with her head low. Her voice sparked a familiar annoyance within but I kept my mouth shut. Sokka looked up at her from under the wolf helmet “You mean getting thoroughly spanked by the Fire Nation or having to walk all the way to the Western Air Temple?”. Katara looked him up and down before shame forced her head down again “Both”. Aang let his hand slide through Appas fur, as if to reassure him that it was not his fault. His forever love for Appa didn't fail to turn my frown. Aang mirrored my weak smile “Sorry guys, but appa gets tired carrying all these people”. “Or maybe it's just Toph who’s heavy”, Not even one of my snarky playful remarks seemed to get the group in a good mood. But I did get a half smirk for Toph that was good enough. “I wonder how the rest of the troops are”, Teo pushed his wheelchair with sweaty hands as he looked up to Haru. I had never met Teo before the battle, but Aang had mentioned him before. He was hella smart and outshined an entire army. But it was clearly not enough to beat the fire nation. I let my eyes wander to Haru instead. I remember the stories of him and his father in prison. A deep weighting feeling decided to settle in my stomach. My father would have never risked everything for me like Haru did for his dad. I guess I was never a family person. I pushed the hurtful thoughts away the best I could by focusing on Haru. “They’re probably on their way to a prison. Seems like my dad just got out and now he’s going back in”. The group fell quiet, and I wanted to feel empathy for Haru. I wanted to understand how much it would hurt to lose a parent after just getting one. I wanted to hug him. Instead i just put a supportive hand on his back “He got out once, we will figure it out”. I didn't know if my words made a difference but I dropped my hand anyways. “I miss Pipsqueak”, The duke, a small boy muttered. Sokka ignored his tiny friend's words “I miss not having blisters on my feet”. I leaned down to Toph's level “Question, when you get blisters, does it feel like if i got something in my eye?”. Toph grunted in response which I decided to take as a yes. Suddenly Toph made a halt stop which almost made the rest of the group fall over. She stamped down, similar to a rabbit, before her face cracked up in a smile. “Hey, We’re here! I can feel it!”, she raised both her hands forward showing us….. nothing. Ahead of us was the same ground that we had walked on for hours on end. The only difference was a precipies splitting the ground open like a wound. “uhhhh….I think your feet need their eyes checked”, Katara stopped beside Toph with a wrinkled nose. “No! She’s right. We are here!”, Aang’s voice didn't sound in defeat as before. Sokka took one look behind his shoulder as if he missed the “giant temple” Aang had described before shrugging his shoulders. “Wooow”, Toph placed her hands next to her feet, truly taking in her surroundings “It's fantastic!”.

The western Air temple was breathtaking. How we got down was a mystery, but well down. I had no words. It was everything Aang had described. Stone walls reached over our heads, clinging for its life on the cliffs surrounding us. Ivy painted the entire place green. With tired feet and a heavy head I slumped down on the bench around the fountain. The comforting noise of water pooling swallowed my pouding head in ease. “It's so different from the Northern Air Temple. I wonder if there are any secret rooms”, Teos eyes were glistening like a childs. Haru had clearly stopped worrying about his dad as he took a leap forward with a smile “Let’s go check it out!”. Teo and The Duke are quick on his feet as they sprint off to explore. Aang is about to catch up with them, excitement clear in his flaring arms, before he’s cut off my Kataras grip. “You guys go. I think we need to talk about some things”, she urges the boys to continue their exploring without Aang and they don't need much convincing. “I'll race you, Duke”, Teo is already taking off. The Duke whines as the kid he is “i told you, It's The Duke!”. The three disappear behind the temple but their voice echoes for another couple of seconds. Aang's looks after the boys with desperation in his grey eyes “Why can’t I go?”. I get up on shaky legs and make my way over to them. “We need to decide what we’re gonna do now, and since you’re the Avatar, maybe you should be a part of this”, Katara sits down on a fallen stone block. “Fair enough. So, what’s the new plan?”Anyone could easily detect the evidence of annoyance in Aang's voice as he slumps down on another stone block. But Katara was right, no matter how much I hated to admit it. Sokka placed a hand under his chin, mimicking an old philosopher “Well, if you ask me, the new plan is the old plan! You just need to master all four elements and confront the Fire Lord before the comet comes.” They way Sokka phrased it was as if it was not that hard. As if it was just a cup of tea, which clearly struck a nerve with Aang.“Oh , yeah. That’s great. No problem. I'll just do that”, Aang threw his words in irony. He started playing with a rock beside him with furrowed eyebrows. He had never looked more like a child. “Aang, no one said it’s going to be easy”, Katara’s voice clinged in empathy. It irritates me how she always complains about being the mom of the group as if she didn't take on that role by herself. But I know a mother's empathy is exactly what Aang needed right now. I easily earth bended a rock under me to lift me up on the high cliff Toph was sitting. The familiar vibrations of earth moving under me filled me with calm. I threw my legs over the edge and slumped down next to Toph's much smaller frame. “Well I am hot but I can't fire bend. Where are we supposed to get a firebending teacher?”, Sokka couldn't help but smile at his own joke. I let out my low hanging bun, ignoring how my baby hairs are slicked down my face by sweat. “You hot? You're hot when Bisons can fly”, I shot him a flirty smile which resulted in Sokka snorting playfully. Katara ignored our remarks “We could look for Jeong Jeong!”. Aang didn't hesitate to shoot her idea down “Yeah...right”. He slumps down his body over the rock without care “like we’ll ever run into Jeong Jeong again”. Me and Toph look curiously at each other “Who’s… oh”. Toph, annoyed by how the group didn't tell us anything crossed her arms “never mind. If it's important I’ll find out”.

The further the sun moved down the horisont, the more Aang started to avoid talking about a plan. He flung forward Appa on his staff, gliding smoothly over the winds. Both me and Toph clung onto the Appa, not liking being this far above the ground. Sokka was always the comic relief but even him had taken on a mom role “Aang, i think we should be making some plans about our future!”. Aang bluntly ignored his words as he landed next to the fountain, the glider still in his hand. Aang watched us land Appa next to him “Okay, we can do that while i show you the giant Pai Sho table! Oh you’re gonna love the all-day echo chamber!”. He was about to sprint away from us again, away from his responsibilities when Toph trot after words. Her demeanor turned serious, which it rarely does “i think that’ll have to wait”. Toph shrugs as she points behind herself. Everybody quizzically tries to see what she’s talking about as Appa’s huge frame moves to the side revealing a shadow. As the late day light falls upon him there is multiply gasps within the group. In front of us is a teenager, probably around my age, a head taller or so. What captures me first is his face. His scar to be exact. A scar the size of a palm extends from his ear and over his eye. It leaves a nasty patch of skin the color of a bonfire. It looks as if he has tried to hide the scar with strands of hair but the hair has a life of its own. It's long, uncombed and falls down his face only to reveal a couple of intense eyes. The color was the same as pooling honey dripping down a warm cup of tea. He was insanely attractive, making my heart skip a beat or two. But he was also screaming to be remembered in the back of my mind. His identity on the tip of my tongue. His honey eyes turn to me for a second but that's enough to spark a part of my memory. Brown eyes mean fire nation. Which makes my eyes quickly take in the obvious fire nation clothing hanging over his long slender body. The previous shock within the group quickly turns into anger. The boy hesitantly raises his hand and gives us a wave, which would be adorable from anybody except a fire bender “Hello”. He tries on a careful weak smile “Zuko here”. That's all it takes for me to take on a fighting position. My hand raised above my waist, fingers vibrating ready to bend the earth to swallow him up. Zuko, The fire prince himself. The gang had told me and Toph stories of his repeated attempts to kill them. His awful actions and how he took katara's necklace. Well, maybe the necklace part doesn't make me that angry. Toph copied my defense, but her motions seemed hesitant. Zuko opens his mouth to reveal a smoother voice then i expected “Hey, i heard you guys flying around down there. So, i just thought i’d wait for you here”. Appa growled and whatever i thought the bison was going to do, it was definitely not that. He reached out his dark tongue just to lick the boy. The boy let out a eak as he protected his face from the saliva. I didn't exactly recall the first time I met Appa that clearly, but I'm pretty sure he never did that. In the corner of my eye I see Aang's conflicted eyes as he lowers his staff slightly. He trusted Appa with his life, so I understood his internalized battle. But I was unaffected, hand raised protectly. Appa’s tongue slicked up the prince's face again, Messing up his hair even further. Zuko didn't protest this time, he just wiped off the excess mucus. With one last wipe he looked up at us again “I know you must be surprised to see me here”. Sokka looked at him in rage with furrowed eyebrows “Not really, since you’ve followed us all over the world”. Zuko seemed embarrassed as he looked down his feet “Right. Well,uh….anyway…. What i wanted to tell you about is that i’ve changed, and i, uhhh, i’m good now, and well i think i should join your group, oh, and i can teach firebending to you”. I didn't know what to say. The shock seemed to resemble the rest of the group. Zuko seemed to catch on as he opened his mouth again “see i, uhhhh”.Toph didn't give him a second to explain himself further “you what now?”. I had never seen katara as angry as now “You can't possibly think that any of us would trust you, can you? I mean, how stupid do you think we are?!”. Sokka continued her rant “Yeah, all you’ve ever done is hunt us down and try to capture Aang!”. All they were saying was true, but there was a sudden doubt consuming me. It rang warning bells in the back of my head for sure, but there was something I couldn't put my finger on. This couldn't possibly be the evil boy they had described? They told me he had an almost shaved head, just a ponytail. That he hated Aang with no shame. That he would do anything to destroy the gang. The boy in front of me was nothing like that. He was shy, hesitant. Ashamed. He was ashamed over everything he had done. But he couldn't just turn good like that, that's not how it works. This must be another fire nation trick, or so I had to convince myself. Zuko seemed hurt, in desperate need to defend himself. “I've done some good things! I mean, I could have stolen your bison in Ba Sing Se, but I set him free. That’s something!”. His words seemed true since appa licked him again (much to his surprise). I remembered how hurt Aang was when he lost Appa, is it really possible that zuko saved him? No it couldn't be, he was from the fire nation. Toph had already dropped her defense “Appa seems to like him”. The water tribe siblings turned to her in anger. “I can understand why you wouldn’t trust me, and i know i've made some mistakes in the past”. The rest of the sparr is a blur to me. I could see lips moving but I couldn't hear a thing. My eyes were stuck on Zuko as I blocked the rest of the world out. I tried to find any mistakes in his clearly made up character but he was spot free. either he was an amazing actor, or everything he said was true. Aang did need a firebender, but the thought of a member of the fire nation, the royal one at that, made my blood boil. What broke my focus was Zuko falling down on his knees. He made himself vulnerable, head bent downwards and hands raised in surrender. “If you won’t accept me as a friend, then maybe you’ll take me as a prisoner”. The words shocked me to the core. If he was really out to kill us he would never have let down his guard like that. Katara seemed to see right through his game “No, we won’t!”. Her little flask dangling by her leg burst open as she water bended a flood against him. It wasn't hard enough to make him go flying off the cliff but it was hard enough to break his position. He fell over, protecting his face. “Get out of here, and don’t come back! And if we ever see you again, well, we’d better not see you again”. Defeated, wet from tip to toe, he moved away from us. As my friends around me started to yell to each other, about how much Zuko was lying. How they would never accept him into the gang. I followed his figure with my eyes. The slumped forward body, the dragging of the feet. I wonder which powerful fire nation person he was going to tell he failed his mission to get into our gang. Because of course it had to be a mission. He could never change… Right?

The next morning seemed slow. My head was pounding from a sleep fof worrying. It didn't help that Toph had disappeared. I knew that Toph could defend herself better than anybody, but I also knew she wouldn't go anywhere without telling me. Katara handed a bowl of breakfast to The duke “Has anyone seen Toph?”. I was surprised that she had even noticed Toph was gone. They weren't exactly close. Sokka yawned and cracked his back from the morning sleep “I haven't seen her since she stormed off yesterday”. Against my will I started to worry. Since yesterday? Had she been out the entire night? I had been grumbling so much over Zuko I hadn't even noticed. I swallowed down the lump of guilt together with a spoon of rice. Katara actually seemed worried for real “I think we should go look for her”, Sokka slumped down next to his sister “Let her have her fun with rocks, i'm in no rush to have her yelling at us again”. I ignored the anger busting up with another spoon of rice. The silence was quickly replaced by the occurrence of a large rumble. Toph comes flying down onto the ground by a pile of rocks that she created from a wall. I rushed over to her, my breakfast thrown in pieces on the ground. “Toph, what the fuck happened?”. Toph slingered across the ground “My feet got burned!”. Katara rushed forward to inspect them “Oh no, how?”. Toph annoyance from Katara's question quickly turned into shame “Well, I kind of went to see zuko last night”. It looked like Aang had been kicked in the gut “You what?”. Without another thought my legs carried me away from the scene. Their voices became a questionable noise as I took off. I only had one thing playing in my mind: Find Zuko and kill him.

#zuko x you #zuko x reader #zuko x y/n #avatar the legend of korra #avatar the last airbender #avatar the legend of aang #aang #katara #toph #sokka #angst #enemies to lovers #avatar fanfiction #zuko fanfic #zuko #atla #atla fanfiction #atla zuko

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keanureevesisbae · 4 years ago

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So Henry, you want to start a YouTube channel? - Prologue

Summary: Twenty five year old YouTuber Sandy Choi has no idea that one of her five million subscribers is the one and only Henry Cavill. When he asks her to help him out with starting his own YouTube channel, she falls more and more in love with her. But she should’ve known that dating one of the most desirable bachelors, does come with a prize.

Henry Cavill x Sandy Choi (ofc)

A/N: What does one do when finding a new obsession with a celebrity? In my case, you write a fanfic series about it... and create an entire YouTuber including a channel introduction. Oops. If you want to be on the taglist for this one (I figure the people on my taglist for Keanu Reeves stories don’t want to be included on this one - if i figured wrong, let me know), please tell me and I’ll add you on it.

Wordcount: 1.3k

Masterlist // Channel introduction // Chapter 1

It has been about three months since Henry Cavill stumbled upon Sandy Choi’s YouTube channel and he is thanking the YouTube algorithms every single day for recommending it to him. He was surprised that he never heard about her before, since her channel is pretty big and well known, but maybe he is too old to keep up to date with YouTubers nowadays.

He binge watched her videos, watching clips from her from three years ago when she started her channel. Seeing her grow from a twenty two year old college student, to a successful YouTuber and young adult author, impresses Henry. He felt like he didn’t have his life together at that age at all and she seems so at ease. She has achieved great thing so far and watching her vlogs, helps him take his mind off his own life and the stress that sometimes comes with it.

He has a YouTube account, but only uses it to be subscribed to her channel and liking her videos. He doesn’t want to miss any of her updates on her channel. Henry is plopped on his couch, cuddling with Kal when he gets a notification.

Sandy Choi has uploaded a new video. Without thinking twice he opens the YouTube app on his iPad. He shouldn’t be this obsessed with a twenty five year old YouTuber, but it’s something about her aesthetic, about her calm way of talking and how she takes the viewers with her. It’s like being there with her and God, does he want to spend some time with her, even if she is just editing a new video, her book or is taking them with her during photoshoots.

The video loads and he gives it a thumbs up before the video has even started. Kal places his head on Henry’s lap, sighing deeply, as if the big fur ball knows that his owner will not give him any attention for the next fifteen minutes.

The slow song fills his living room, as he watches her introduction. They’re all snippets of today’s vlog, since he has never seen the footage before. Seeing her smiling in the camera, makes his heart flutter.

He feels like a teenager again, with the way he has this permanent grin plastered on his face, every time she posts things and he watches the entire video.

‘It’s the first of July,’ Sandy says, as she is sitting in front of her mirror, trying to fix her hair. Her make-up is all set and done. It’s very minimal, like usual, but with a brighter pink lipstick. ‘And that means in three days it’s the Fourth of July and I won’t be spending it in LA.’

Henry looks at his phone, to see that this was filmed two days ago. With the lighting speed she edits, he often wonders if she has some sort of magic powers.

‘It’s pretty weird actually,’ Sandy continues, ‘not to spend time with family on the Fourth. I moved here about seven months ago and ever since I stepped a foot in London, my parents have been sending me some serious threats about how I should fly back to LA on the Fourth of July. My birthday, Thanksgiving, they don’t care about that, weirdly enough.’

Henry lives in London, but he has yet to bump into her. He recognizes the places she visits and when he visits them, he never sees her, though he keeps his eyes out, praying for her to be there. God, he wishes he would just bump into her, though he has no idea what to say to her. Hi there, I’m Henry Cavill and I’m obsessed with your videos? He’ll probably scare her away.

He watches the entire vlog intently, as Sandy is taking the viewers with her for a stroll in the park, a nice cafe that he now wants to visit and eventually she goes to the dance studio.

She is a great dancer and he sometimes wonders why she’s not doing anything with it. The way she moves her slender body and knows how to control it, is absolutely mesmerizing. She posted a few dance covers on her channel, but she’s always alone. Never dancing with someone. He wonders if she comes up with these dances herself, whether or not she is free styling.

The video is almost over, yet he doesn’t want it to be over. She could make vlogs that are twenty four hours long, and he would watch it in one sitting. She’s crouched down in front of the camera, still in the dance studio, while she pulls out her hair tie, letting her long dark brown locks fall over her shoulders. ‘So,’ she says with a soft smile, ‘I’m sorry today was a pretty boring day. It’s just that I have been spending so much time editing my newest novel, that I just couldn’t read the last two chapters anymore, so I’ll be doing that tomorrow or later this week. I work ahead of schedule anyway, so I have some leverage. I just wanted to get a nice and quiet day in, so I’m going home now and maybe rewatch something on Netflix. I’m not in the mood for something new, since I have to focus on understanding the story, you know, so I think the Witcher will do for now. Haven’t had my fair share of Henry Cavill today.’

Henry can’t seem to focus on the last part of the vlog, where she wishes everyone a good day and the outro starts. She is going to rewatch the Witcher? Meaning, she has already watched it? She hasn’t had her fair share of him today?

What does that even mean?

And the way she said his name, he is going to die if he would rewatch that part.

Someone calls him and he picks up without looking. ‘Yeah?’ he says when he answers the phone, still living a bit on cloud nine.

‘For the love of God, man, you’re getting more and more impersonal every time I call,’ he hears his friend Jackson say from the other end of the line. ‘Where the fuck are you, man? We were supposed to meet each other like five minutes ago.’

Henry jumps up from his couch. ‘Crap, I forgot.’

‘Figured.’

‘I’ll be there in a second.’ He storms to the hallway, to find his running shoes, but he has to walk upstairs for them.

‘You’re always on time. What happened today?’

‘I was watching something.’

Jackson starts to laugh from the other side of the line. ‘Let me guess: a certain someone uploaded her newest vlog? Does her name start with an S and end with andy Choi?’

‘Very funny.’ Jackson was never supposed to find out about this guilty pleasure of his, but somehow Jackson did find out, like he always does. Sometimes Henry hates his friend, since he can read him way too well and pesters him afterwards.

‘Well, hope it was worth it,’ Jackson says. Henry can hear the smile in his voice and that means that he is going to mention this during their entire run.

Henry rushes outside after he slipped on his running shoes. ‘It was totally worth it,’ he says. Knowing he’ll tell Jackson anyways, he adds: ‘She said my name, you know.’

‘Shut up.’

‘I’m not,’ Henry says with a smile.

‘She honest to God said your name?’

‘Yeah and she is rewatching the Witcher.’ Henry can’t seem to get the permanent grin off his face. He hears her say it over and over in his head, visualizing it with the lovely smile on her face.

‘You need to fucking grow some balls, follow her on Instagram and slide into her DM’s. Everyone does that nowadays.’

‘I’m not going to do that.’

‘No, what you are going to do is bother me with questions like: “Why is she so pretty?” and “When am I going to run into her?”. Like I can answer those. It’s obvious that she is simply rewatching the Witcher because of the way you look. Everyone on earth is into you, why wouldn’t she?’

Henry clears his throat, before he says: ‘See you in three minutes.’

Taglist: @flhorah

#henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x oc #so henry you want to start a youtube channel #henry cavill x Sandy choi #getting obsessed with henry cavill

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mermaidxatxheart · 5 years ago

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Surprise

This is my submission for @wkemeup‘s writing challenge. Congratulations on the milestone, love!

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Word Count: 1143

Warnings: Swearing. If you think I missed anything, please let me know.

Summary: You try to get away with something, but Bucky catches you in the act.

Writing Prompt: This isn’t what it looks like

The phone rings while you wait impatiently.

“Barnes.” The deep voice on the other end picks up. He must have answered without looking. He’s usually happier to hear from you.

“Hi, handsome. Quick question.” You start, aiming for casual.

“Alright.” He prompts.

“Where are you?”

“At the compound. Sam and I are planning our next mission. Why?”

“So you plan on being there for a good while?” You ask innocently.

“Yeah, probably.”

“Okay. I was thinking about making lasagna for dinner. I know it’s your favorite.” You tell him, hoping he’ll take the bribe.

He groans quietly. “You’re so good to me.”

“I know.” You smile to yourself. “I’ll see you later, lover. Say hi to Sam for me.”

“I absolutely will not. He doesn’t deserve it.” Bucky says.

“Hey, Y/N! What’s good, girl?”

“No, don’t answer him.” Bucky sighs.

“Hey, Sammy. Wanna come over for dinner?”

“No!” Bucky groans.

“Yes!” Sam says.

“Great. I’ll see you two much much later.” You say, hanging up. You look down at the basket at your feet. “That went well.” You nod, lifting the basket into the backseat of your car. “Okay. I need you guys to behave.” You say to the mix-matched collection of small dogs.

The trip to the home you share with Bucky is relatively short. Not a whole lot of traffic way out here in the country and Bucky kind of likes that, so you don’t mind it.

You manage to usher all eight of the dogs inside and they are loving their new home. They’re trying to escape and go sniff everything, but you have to figure out where to hide them for a surprise for Bucky.

“Okay, puppies. Into the food pantry.” You herd them that way and start to shut the door, but then change your mind. “That’s no good, he’ll see you all there. He eats so much.” You sigh and start corralling them towards the coat closet.

“No way you’re all going to fit in there.” You groan. Curse Bucky and his ridiculous coat collection.

You steer them towards the bedroom and they all jump on the bed. “No no no no no!” You whine, but then you hear tires in the driveway.

“No! Damn it, Barnes.” You groan and grab the nearest dog and set her gently in the closet, nudging the door closed while you try to get the rest.

There isn’t time! He’s coming up the stairs!! You grab the comforter and fling it out over the dogs, covering them.

You sit on the settee at the end and cross your legs, a perfect picture of innocence. Behind you, you can hear the dogs getting restless, and you feel like you’re missing something glaringly obvious, but for the life of you, you can’t think of what it is.

The door opens slowly and you fling your arms out, hoping to disguise the dog-shaped mounds on the bed. “You’re home early!” You cry and then your eyes fall on Sam.

Bucky

“What’s that?” Sam asks, looking behind you.

“Nothing.” You reply instantly and Bucky raises an eyebrow. You’re way too eager to hide whatever is moving on your bed.

“Babe?”

“Yes?” You look at him.

He rolls his eyes and walks around you. You scramble up to stop him but Sam catches you around the waist. Bucky rips the comforter off the bed to reveal five dogs. He stares, completely dumbfounded.

“This isn’t what it looks like!!” You shout and they both look at you. “Surprise.” You mumble weakly.

God love you.

“Where did you get five dogs?”

Your eyes widen as you look at them. “Shit!! I’m missing two!” You wiggle free and open the closet door, letting the poor dog free.

“Now one, right?” Sam asks and you shake your head, scratching the pupper’s ears. He licks your face happily, already loving you.

“You got eight dogs?” Bucky asks incredulously.

“I had to! Help me find them?” You bat your eyelashes at him and he groans.

“Fine. But then they’re going back.” He says, heading down the stairs.

“Bucky, no!” You rush after him.

“Sweetheart, we can’t keep eight dogs.” He says, his sentence trailing off as he looks around the living room, his favorite blue jacket inching along the floor.

“We have to.” You insist, heading for the coat. Just as you’re about to pick it up, a small head pokes out the end of the sleeve. He looks around and up at you, and you can see his tail wagging happily under the coat.

“Why do we have to?” Bucky asks as you free the doggo from the coat and scoop him up in your arms.

“Because no one else took them and they reached the end of their time in the shelter.” You say, your voice wavering slightly. You nuzzle your face into the soft fur and Bucky sighs.

How is he supposed to tell you no when you’re crying?

“Sam, you want a dog or two?” Bucky offers.

“You’re still missing one.” Sam reminds him.

“We were in the kitchen.” You offer and Bucky makes his way in there, looking around. He hears a scraping noise in one of the lower cabinets and he opens the door where the big stand mixer is. There’s a small dog sitting in the big bowl, just looking at him with the most trusting brown eyes he’s ever seen. He lets out a laugh and twists the bowl free.

“Found him.” He calls. He makes his way back into the living room, carrying the bowl with the little head poking out. Little dude is just along for the ride.

“Hi, handsome!” You scratch his ears happily.

Bucky looks around at your new friends, and he’s seeing the things that made you want to take them in the first place.

One dog is missing a leg, another is going blind. A few are older, the grey in their whiskers standing out against their dark fur. They’ve been abandoned, discarded for not being babies, or being broken, maybe too rambunctious. But you, you see the beauty in everything. Even the broken souls around you.

“Okay.” He says, looking from the dogs to you.

“Yeah?” You clasp your hands together around the furball in your arms.

“Yeah.” He turns to Sam. “Sorry, offer’s been rescinded.” He says, running his fingers through the soft fur.

“Damn, I like this little guy.” He says, leaning down to scratch one on the belly.

Bucky looks down at you, his eyes softening as he realizes how rich his life has become. “Any other shelters around here?” He asks, already picturing the building in the back he can construct as a playroom for all the animals you could possibly want.

Your eyes light up and you barely manage to contain a squeal. “As a matter of fact...”

Everything Tag List:

@everythingisoverrated @dsakita @shreddedparchment @bitsandbobsandstuff @after-avenging-hours @alexblrus @thinkingsofamadwoman @i-dont-want-to-be-called @thefridgeismybestie @fortheloveofallthatsholy @crazychaotic @pleasureoftheguiltiestvariety @redstarstan @justreadingfics @themistsofmyavalon @sebastianstanslefteyebrow @wkemeup @thiccbinch @glide-thru @elliee1497 @part-time-patronus @janeyboo @jensensjaredsandmishaslover @thirstybitchqueen @xxloki81xx @stuckonjbbarnes @browngirlmagic @geeksareunique @nicoleplacee @lexshead @gambitsqueen @sebbbystaaan @lokisironthrone @imanuglywombat @nea90sweetie

#kas4kwc #mermaidxatxheart-writes #bucky #Bucky Barnes #james bucky barnes #buckybarnes #bucky x you #bucky x reader #reader insert #fluff

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hallowed-be-thy-username · 4 years ago

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Clothing Is Custom, No Labels

“No matches on prints, DNA, dental. Clothing is custom, no labels. Nothing in his pockets but knives and lint. No name, no other alias.”

Summary: You’re one of the last bespoke tailors in town, making suits and custom clothing for Gotham’s elite. Business men and women, well known lawyers, the Wayne family, and... the Joker?

Genre: Self-insert

Pairing: Ledger!Joker x fem reader

Warnings: angst? mentions of J killing reader, descriptions of cutting, blood, just a titch of knife play (not nsfw just yet though)

Word count: 2,577

Author’s Note: I’m excited about this one, guys!! Things are getting intense! Also RIP my laptop, I’m posting this on the mobile app so the formatting is kinda crazy and I can’t inset a keep reading 😭 so scroll with caution and heed the warnings!

Musical Inspiration: Venus In Furs by The Velvet Underground

- Part Four - A suit. It was a suit that put you in this position, standing next to him. He seemed even broader, taller, his presence more imposing. His smile said everything. It sent a shiver down to your toes, goosebumps prickling your back.

You tried to move but you were stuck, staring at him. He had a look in his eyes, different than before. He knew the effect, his allure, the pull, that his just standing there was having on you.

He basked in your reflexive attention, wide eyes taking in the way he looked in the suit. He looked… incredible. Striking. It turned out better than you’d ever hoped. Something fervent and inauspicious was displayed in front of you, stirring an unfamiliar feeling in your guts. You really weren’t sure how long you’d been standing there, looking at him. Seconds? Minutes? You opened your mouth but no sound came out, only a huff of breath.

“I, um, I’m sorry,” you finally managed to squeak past your vocal cords.

Joker chuckled through his nose and asked, “Sorry for wha-t?”

Your face flushed, heat rising into your cheeks. “U-um, I um, for staring,” you answered quickly.

He chuckled louder this time, sending butterflies quivering in your stomach with a queasy jolt. Looking back at the mirror, he said, “Uh, aren’t you supposed to?”

You took a moment to process what he meant before swiftly jerking yourself in motion to grab your tailoring chalk and set of pins from the table, keeping your eyes down as you suddenly felt uncomfortable meeting his gaze again. Something about him wearing your suit set your nerves even more on edge, heightened with anxious energy buzzing through you. But you had to calm yourself. Focus, breathe. You decided to start with the back of the coat so that you could avoid his hypnotic eyes a bit longer.

Blowing a breath through your lips, you looped your measuring tape over your neck and approached him from behind.

“I, I’m gonna check the fit of the coat,” you said.

His green-haired head nodded silently and you slowly reached out to touch the coat. In spite of your best efforts, your hands shook frustratingly, lingering out in front of you until you pushed past that pervasive hesitance and placed your palms on his back, between his shoulders.

The wool warmed by his heat met your skin, tingles shooting down your back in reply. Your anxieties were beginning to irritate you. Every little sensation, movement, or sound from him made you feel like you were on fire and it wouldn’t stop. Just keep going, he’s watching you, he’s waiting. Your own thoughts didn’t help either.

You let the resulting electricity run through you as you moved your hands, smoothing the purple fabric until you reached the edges where you tugged at it, checking how it fit his broad shoulders. They curved beneath the heavy layer, the fit leaving just enough room to move them. Your heart pumped a bit faster, anxiety beginning to twist into some sort of exhilaration at the feeling of his form beneath your hands.

It followed you as you checked the sleeve pitch, your fingers straightening the sleeve where it met the body of the coat, falling in line all the way to the cuff. They buzzed with nervous anticipation as you fluttered them over more of the fabric. It almost felt good.

Routine took over while you continued to muse over the garment, now scrutinizing the details more carefully with pins between your teeth to pluck and slide into place over any areas where you felt the fit needed improvement. So focused on your ardent task, you hadn’t really noticed that you’d stepped in front of him, eyes glued to the lapels resting on his chest that steadily rose and fell, his body otherwise completely still. Like a living mannequin that wore your creation so perfectly. You marked where the lapels laid against the front of the coat with lines of chalk and stepped back to check the symmetry. Suddenly you stiffened and your pulse thrummed faster as you felt his eyes on you.

You swallowed and slowly lifted your gaze, you breath quickening. He was staring at you. His expression was blank, unreadable, all you could do was stare back.

His tongue flicked out over the forked scar on his lip, drawing your eyes to it, then to the rest of the damage to his face. There was no ignoring their presence. If people were always staring at them, then how much did he think about them? Do they still hurt? Would the phantom of the sensation that came with their creation spark with pain at random? Perhaps the damaged nerve endings conducted tangled signals, the haphazardly healed tissue trying desperately to function as it once did. Varying between feelings of numbness, stinging, prickling, overwhelming sensitivity, or any combination of these crawling across his permanent smile. Maybe sensations were elicited from no stimulus at all, as if recalling its own former trauma.

His gravelly voice pulled you out of your thoughts when he asked, “How does it look, hm?”

“It, it looks incredible,” you words tumbled out before you could think, prompting the heat of embarrassment to rise up to your ears.

He grinned at you and replied, “Is that so?”

No knowing what else to do except play along, you nod slowly, your eyes still locked on each other’s.

“Ahh the creator speaks well of her creation, hm?” he said.

“Uh, no! Well, I mean, yes? It, you, uh, I think it came together nicely,” you sputtered in response.

Joker chuckled and responded in a husky voice, “Gooood.”

Your heart flipped in your chest and your lips parted to take in a deep breath. You didn’t know what to think about what was happening. You were afraid. But fear was now joined by another feeling. Some faint excitement reaching up from deep down inside, drawn out by the way he looked at you. They swirled together in your stomach, telling you to run away but keeping you there in front of him, filling you with some want for him to speak to you again.

“Um, do you like the fit?” you finally asked.

He shifted his gaze back to the mirror and gripped the collar of the coat to shift it slightly.

“You’re the ex-pert, doll,” he said, not taking his eyes away from the mirror.

“Oh, o-ok,” you said quietly, almost under your breath, as your feet carried you toward him again.

You walked around him in a circle, checking your marked alterations once more. It was perfect. But you could stand there all night, inspecting how it hung off his body. Why? You didn’t really know.

Trying not to linger too long, you said softly, “It, um, it, looks good to me. So, uh, let’s have a look at the, um, the jacket.”

He slid the coat off of his shoulders to hand it to you, the fabric still warm in your hands as you draped it over the stand. You turned back to him to check the suit jacket, knowing his eyes were on you made your skin tingle. Hesitation flashed in your mind but was promptly snuffed out by the inexplicable fascination that continued to take you over.

You reached out and took both sides of the jacket front in your hands, lining up the buttons with their corresponding holes and gliding them through. You walked around him, trying to focus on your task and not the quivering of your stomach. After checking the sleeves and making some adjustments, you reached for the buttons once more. You could tell him to take the jacket off, or you could do it yourself. Like you had no control over them, your fingers unfastened each button before moving to slide the jacket from his shoulders as he silently complied.

Your hands trembled less the longer you touched him. It felt dangerous, getting used to that feeling of riskiness, imminent consequence not setting off the response it should be. Your feet should carry you away from danger, not draw you toward it. But oh, was it tempting. You stood closer to face him. The tension of your muscles and tingling of your skin had become strangely addictive, your nerves encouraged you to chase the feeling, despite what would be better judgement.

Your systematic undressing left him standing in the pinstripe pants with the hem reaching just to the tops of his brown shoes, hexagon patterned shirt, and green vest that hugged his sides to outline his broad chest down to his lean waist. You stepped closer. He smelled like greasepaint and cigarettes.

When you straightened the collar of the shirt, your fingers grazed over his neck in what was almost a seductive manner, raising goosebumps up your arms and suddenly the silence in the room became all too obvious. You sucked in a breath, pulled your hands back and froze with your eyes on his chest in front of you. It expanded with his breath that now warmed your face and you found yourself unable to move once again, stuck in the pull he had on you.

There it was. The familiar feeling of arousal fluttered in your core and your face flushed. You cursed your body’s reaction. This can’t be happening. Not with him.

“Look at me,” he said plainly.

Your breath trembled slightly as you shifted your eyes up to meet his. His gaze sent your heart racing, overwhelming and entrancing. He looked as though he could swallow you whole. Fear is a fickle thing. It could save your life, keep you out of danger. Don’t go down that dark alley, someone might be lurking. Don’t touch that snake, it might bite you. But it can betray you, too. It can mingle with desire, giving you that toxic gift of adrenaline, flowing through your veins like a drug. It saturates your mind, drowning out the instincts you thought were instilled so steadfast. You reached for that snake to let it sink its fangs into your flesh.

“Are you afraid?” he asked, his voice thick like honey.

Your eyes burned, locked with his dark pupils as you nodded slowly, your body acting on raw impulse.

The click of a switchblade met your ears and you stiffened as he brought it up to your cheek, holding the back of your neck with his other hand. Your body shuttered and twitched uncontrollably, your head beginning to feel light.

He stared deeper into your eyes and growled, “No you’re not.”

His words spun around in your mind. You were afraid, you wanted to be afraid. But something wouldn’t let it come to the surface. It shouted for you to run, scream, anything show him it was there. But it’s voice was muffled by the sick thrill that his knife at your cheek sent coursing through you. Would he cut you? Would he kill you? The threat of blood dripping to the floor weighed heavy over both of you.

“Careful doll,” he rumbled, lowering the knife from your face. “Tha-t is a danger-ous game.”

Game? It didn’t feel like a game. Your chest squeezed uncomfortably when you thought about his knife dragging across your skin, the sting that would follow it as the surface split open.

“A… a game?” you asked with your voice quivering.

He hummed and nodded his head, his gaze never breaking away from yours.

“Play with fire and you get burned,” he rumbled, bringing his face even closer.

Your heart pounded up into your throat and your blood ran hot. He saw something in your eyes. He knew. He knew the thought of being with him excited you and you had no control over it. You ached with need. A need that was new and sharp, pricking at your insides. You needed to know what it would be like. Had you lost your sensibilities?

Suddenly he stepped forward and you backed up reflexively, each step steering you backwards until you were halted by the wall, nowhere to go. He put his hand on the wall beside you and leaned against it. He lifted the knife he still held in his other hand and placed the point at the top of your chest, right in the middle. Then he leaned in, bringing his lips to your ear.

A powerful shiver ran down your back as he spoke in a low voice, “How about now?”

This was the game. A contest of wills. Would you cry? Try to get away? Or would you bleed for him?

Your skin was set ablaze beneath the blade and your jaw clenched as you sucked air in through your teeth. A trickle of sticky red ran onto your shirt as he moved away with the knife, watching you through heavy lids. The tiny cut on your chest stung, the pain mixing with your heightened senses. It was confusing, this feeling of fulfillment. He still held the knife, he could still kill you. But this felt different. Your heart began to slow its unforgiving racing and you breathed deeply.

His red lips twitched into a smile, impious and entrancing.

“Ahhh look what we have here. There it iiis,” he purred. “Don’t forget, doll, the fire’s hot. Wouldn’t want ya to, uh, get burned too bad, hm?”

Your jaw dropped open slightly as you stared at him, speechless. What just happened? What does he mean?

Before any words could form from your mouth, be stepped back. He clicked the knife into its handle and casually strolled back over to the mirror.

“You, uh, really have outdone yourself, doll,” he said, starting to unknot the tie around is neck. “You have ta-lent.”

You remained silent and wide eyed, stuck in place against the wall as he stripped down to his boxer shorts in front of you, rendering you even more stunned. Then he pulled on his tattered shirt and pants with the frayed jacket he arrived in.

He straightened his collar and turned back toward you. His eyes made your stomach quiver once more before he purred, “I’ll be back tomorrow. Looking forward to it, doll.”

You blinked and the door closed. He was gone.

Reality came rushing over you in a cold sweat. You slid down the wall to sit on the floor, suddenly gasping for air and panting as your hands trembled.

You forced yourself to take deep breaths and closed your eyes, wiping the sweat from your brow as you leaned your head back against the wall. Then your eyes snapped open and you lifted your hand to gently touch your finger to your chest. You looked to see your blood glistening on your fingertip.

He cut you. Shallow and small, but skin was broken. You should have been afraid but you didn’t fear the act itself. No, you feared the feeling it left behind. The thrill was intense, filling you up with a strange euphoria. An arousal. You should be dead, drained of life by the point of a knife. But you only grazed the blade. You wanted to chase that feeling, follow it for more. Tangle with danger and let it touch you all over.

You danced with the devil and he left you wanting more.

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