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destinyimage · 2 years ago

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Defeat the Spirit of Fear with This Key

The Lord is my shepherd (Psalm 23:1 NIV).

Anxiety is far more common than we’re led to believe.

Even so, anxiety is still complex and unique. Your situation is not exactly like the next per- son’s. But no matter what you’re carrying, all of us have the same proven-true hope today—God is fighting for us.

Walking free from panic attacks, depression, fear, and worry is a process, one with many steps and turns. The key to living untangled from anxiety is not a plan, but a person.

Your hope is not in a formula, although a formula may be helpful. Your hope is not in a set of principles, although truth will set you free. Your hope is not in a prescription, although one may be necessary for a season. (I know this statement might cause some to “deplane” from our journey, but I would not categorically rule out the potential of God using professionals to aid your freedom.)

Your hope is in Jesus, the Great Shepherd of the sheep (Psalm 23). He is the way, the truth, and the life (John 14:6). Anxiety may be a giant looking to knock and keep you down, but Jesus is the Giant Slayer, and He is inviting you to allow Him to lead you through whatever you are facing in this world.

God understands that we get stressed in life. Dozens of places in Scripture speak directly to anxiety, and hundreds more to fear and worry. Why? Because people have always been anxious, and God has always been strengthening, supporting, and leading us toward freedom and hope. God knows that only when we let Him be our Shepherd do we have a shot at putting an “X” through anxiety.

Jesus, Our Shepherd

Arguably the best-known text in the Bible is Psalm 23. Take a moment to slowly read it.

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever (ESV).

At the core of this Psalm is an extraordinary offer from God—namely that Jesus will be our Shepherd and will lead and guide us through every season. Specifically, God promises to lead us through the valley of the shadow of death, that dark place where we doubt everything good and fear every possible negative outcome.

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Do you know a valley like that?

Does it seem like someone or something is lurking in the shadows, waiting to pounce and destroy you or those you love?

Do you feel isolated and alone, as if no one understands the crushing load you are under or the Enemy you fear?

Or is your valley less defined—a hard-to-describe cloud of doom that descends on your best thoughts, turning life into a shadowy mist of confusion?

If so, God is offering to walk with you through that valley. The way out is not in following a plan; rather, the way out is being led by a person.

Your shining Light of hope is in Jesus, the Savior.

I know this may sound simplistic and elementary, but it’s amazing how many times we run to a website, friend, diagnosis, or a book—when the God of Heaven is standing right in front of us. Jesus is the Light in the darkness and He’s offering to be your Shepherd in whatever valley you are in.

In Psalm 23 we see Jesus as the Great Shepherd and ourselves as His sheep. Being called a sheep by God is no stunning compliment; rather, it is a reminder that, like sheep, we don’t see very well and often don’t make the wisest decisions. Sheep are not so swift and can be weighed down by their heavy wool. Not to mention there are predators at every turn—a lion or bear or cougar—waiting to take them out. Basically, sheep are helpless without a shepherd. And so are we without our Shepherd.

The good news is Jesus offers to lead, provide, protect, and preserve you through the darkest valleys and most imposing nights. His promises are true.

How do I know? Because He came to planet Earth, God in human flesh. He lived among men. He faced the same giants you and I face today. He was crucified, though He had done nothing wrong. He died. He was buried. But death couldn’t hold Him. He resurrected. His ultimate victory over all darkness proves that He can be the Giant Slayer in your story.

Calling on Jesus

Though Jesus is the Great Shepherd, and He did win the final victory over anxiety, fear, and death, He invites us to participate in the journey through our valley. He invites us to seek Him and call on His name.

In Luke’s Gospel we read about a blind man who was begging by the roadside in the city of Jericho. Hearing a commotion, the man learned that Jesus of Nazareth was passing by. Without even being able to see Jesus, the man cried out, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me.” Those in the crowd told him to be quiet, but he yelled even louder. Amazingly, Jesus heard his cries above the chaos, stopped, and healed him (see Luke 18:35-43).

You may feel as if God is a billion miles away. I know there were moments when I felt that way. You may believe your voice will stop at the ceiling of the room you are currently in. But there is power that comes through the name of Jesus.

Calling on Him doesn’t have to be formal or fancy. He isn’t looking for a rehearsed prayer, but He wants your heart—what’s really going on. Tell Him that though you can’t see Him, you have heard He is near. Ask Him to intercede and help lift you from the pit of depression you are in. Tell Him you want Him to lead you through the valley of anxiety. Be honest with Him and ask Him to shine light into your darkness.

You may not know how He’s going to do it, but in faith tell Him you know He can.

It’s Not How, But Who

When you are in the middle of the valley of the shadow of death, you are likely eager to figure out how you are going to get out. It’s human nature to look for answers, solutions, and step-by-step processes that can lead us where we need to go.

You may have noticed as we read through Psalm 23 that the Scriptures don’t often give the how, but they always give the who. Three simple letters that, when rearranged, make a world of difference.

We’ll eventually get to some practical steps and tangible takeaways you can practice to keep anxiety at bay. However all the tips, methods, and advice are near meaningless if you don’t look first to the Person who makes passing through the valley of the shadow of death possible.

The apostle Paul wrote it this way in his letter to the church at Philippi:

Being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus (Philippians 1:6 NIV).

Did you catch it? Paul tells us that what God starts in you and in me, He will bring to completion. He is faithful and steadfast. Paul doesn’t tell us how God does that, though. He doesn’t go on to list a dozen ways God is actively walking you through the valley. He just points back to the who. “Being confident of this, that he….”

You may have been in your valley for a long time. You may have been listening to the taunts from your giant of anxiety for weeks, months, or even years. My own season lasted far beyond what I originally thought possible.

You may have tried every method or tip along your journey, and your giant still hasn’t budged. We’ll go deeper into examining exactly what you’re facing and why it threatens to keep you underfoot. Before we peel back the layers of anxiety, I want to encourage you to repeat and embrace this simple truth:

Jesus is with me. In the valley. In the fight. In the struggle. He is with me.

As Paul wrote in Romans 8:31, “What, then, shall we say in response to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us?” (NIV).

Between Two Hills

You’ll hear a lot about the valley of the shadow of death. I don’t have to describe that for you; you know what that feels like. But have you ever stopped and thought about the fact that, geographically, a valley is a low point between two higher points?

You might feel alone in your valley. You might feel the darkness overshadowing everything and like you are beyond hope. But there was a high point before this valley. God was with you in the past. Look back to day to a high point before this valley. God was with you in the past and there will be a high point on the back end of this valley. God will be with you when you come back up for air.

If He was with you before, and He will be with you at the end, it only makes sense that He is with you now. He did not leave you. He did not forsake you. In fact, He loves you, and because of that love He sent His only Son to walk with you side by side and step by step.

That is a truth we can cling to as we journey through the valley.

Breaking Free

When I said, “My foot is slipping,” your unfailing love, Lord, supported me. When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought me joy (Psalm 94:18-19 NIV).

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sometimes-you-just-gotta-write · 2 years ago

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My family mentions god with a familiarity I lack- one that gives me pause after meeting so many people who would rather avoid the attention of a deity if they could. I mostly hold the belief that if god exists, it must have a humor. But ghosts, ghost are another thing entirely. My family holds ghost and demons and those things that lurk in the dark places close to their chest. And while I might question god, I do not question ghosts. I keep the small lessons my family taught me - things whispered and told when the situation called for it.

“Do not go where they are.” My mother warned me of this when I was little.

She worked for a cemetery and would come home exhausted at the end of the day. I only remember visiting her work twice and but once was enough.

My hands had touched the smooth stone of the mausoleum, tracing over the engraved names of people gone past. And in the small silences, I could feel something else. Something watching. Waiting in the corners of the brightly lit building. All at once, I realized how close my hand was to a body resting in the wall- a thin line separating me and the dead, thinner still than the bodies that rested six feet below us. The small tap of my mother’s shoes on the marble floor was the only thing that held me still, the thing- the shade, waiting in the corner, in the dark place just from view. And somehow, my mother knew.

She crouched next to me, watching me. “This is why we do not come to these places.” She instructed. “We do not go where they are.”

“Yes mami.”

“We stay away from places where they will be.” She pressed the lesson and I understand why now. She would later tell me that she quit working at the cemetery because some days, even though she had purified herself, prayed before and after she left the grounds, sometimes she could feel it. A shadow, a shape that waited and followed. She quit because she was terrified it would find us at home.

Standing in the mausoleum, I knew that fear; the kind that makes you wait at the edges of doorways, looking over your shoulder, because something- something is there. So the rule- do not go where they are, do not go where they abide- I keep it close.

My grandfather gave me a stern talking to when I was younger. I had fallen in love with Greek mythology, the symbols, the culture, the thrill of new deities fresh from pages of books previously unknown. The deity I loved most of all was Athena- which was how I found myself apologizing to my grandfather. I had tried to place an owl key chain above my door and he told me to take it down.

“It’s a symbol.” He clarified. “A symbol of the dead.”

I knew the stories and I already knew his lessons. My grandfather was from Mexico and he had learned from his grandmother lessons about magic. Magic, hexes, curses and blood. He told us to pray if we ever found a hen nailed to our door, or dead animals strewn across our deck. Pray because someone was trying to call something to hurt us. That puzzled me for sometime, the idea of calling a deity. But, I had been taught to call god so I quickly became accustom to the thought of calling something else.

In every house we moved to, and we moved quiet often, my mother would take us to each room and draw a cross in oil. She would then instruct us to pray, calling god in to the house, to protect us while we lived there. And sometimes, I felt that it worked. But I’ve been to quite a few houses where I knew they had not called their deity to abide in it.

One of my friends, Elliot, has a Grandmother who invites spirits freely into her house. She lives in a stormy place next to the ocean where the wind and rain seem to crash ceaselessly all year round. Elliot likes to joke time travel’s differently in those parts and I find myself agreeing. There’s something in that portion of the world, listening to the storms rage outside, the ocean crash, that makes time move slower.

Grandma sees her house as a way point, a place where any spirit who needs it can find rest. And the after life it seems, is full of restless things.

When I stayed at her house I know I felt many of them there but I only truly saw one. I was sleeping with two friends, Joy and Elliot, both of whom had been quicker then me to call the places in the bed closest to the wall (as it was a bed that was placed in the corner). Having spoken with Grandma beforw, I was content with taking the outside position.

“If they try to start shit, you tell them to leave.” She had instructed all of us when the topic of spirits had arisen in our conversation. “They’re allowed to stay if they’re peaceful but you girls tell them to hit the road if they try anything.”

I’ve found that understanding something is different than practicing it.

That night, I woke.

Crouched next to the bed was a man.

Nothing remarkable about his face or his attire. His face was about two inches from my own and he had brown eyes. I found it a funny sight, a grown man crouched next to the bed, hands huddled close to his face, his lips pressed to the back of them. He looked like a child who pressed their face up to a window of a toy shop, watching.

I could feel no malicious intentions as he crouched next to us. Anger, sadness, grief- these are all things I’ve felt from beings like this before but he had none of them.

Sleep had eluded him but it did not elude me. After acknowledging him, I turned over, moving myself closer to Joy, who was in the middle, and fell asleep again. At breakfast, I mentioned our restless watcher and Elliot affirmed they had also seen the man crouched next to us. “He was just watching.” They said, puzzled. “Just watching us sleep.”

In another house, in the town where we all had graduated college, I heard Joy come down the stairs. She was in town for our mutual friend’s graduation and I had let her borrow my room while it was going on. In the early morning, I got us both coffee and we sat at the table. Before we could begin the usual “This happened.” “Oh my god really?” conversations that always occur between the two of us, she said, “You know you have a shade?”

It was an accurate word for the quick thing that liked to move around the home. “It’s not harmful.” I said. And it was true. I hadn’t felt anything that I would consider to be harmful from it. It was something that just existed in the house and the other roommates, bless them, didn’t notice it at all.

But Joy crinkled her nose. “You should take care of that.”

She was right in the end. I honestly didn’t think much about it when I was there, other than the occasional time where I woke up and knew it was angry for some reason. However, emotions flowed with the shade and for the most part, I didn’t feel that it was harmful. It seemed to prefer my room rather than other spaces in the house. Well, in all honesty it preferred my room and the small corner between the bathroom and the front door, which happened to rest directly below my room.

Taking Joy’s advice, I did receive permission to bless the house from the other roommates but I only blessed the ground floor which restricted it to the second floor. I didn’t banish it entirely though the nights I woke up searching for the angry thing made me wish I did.

Even with the occasional night terror, I didn’t want to remove it. There was no reason to and I could deal with a little troubled sleep if it remained mostly peaceful. But, I don’t think I ever understood my mother’s fear, the one that made her quit her good paying job, until I moved into Mithun.

Joy and Elliot invited me to live with them while we were looking for a place where we live our lives together with enough space for everyone. And I agreed because I couldn’t think of a better arrangement. But Mithun, or rather, the apartment on Mithun, scared me. I’m normally not afraid of night or the dark but in this apartment, my mother’s order of “do not go where they are” screamed at me in every moment.

From the moment I arrived, something was there. Something in the corner of every room. Something curling it’s body in a coil, waiting.

Waiting.

I didn’t know what it was waiting for or why it wanted me to hurt but I found myself holding my breath while I was there. But the worst wasn’t the knowledge of it being there, it was the certainty of constantly looking for something, even though I knew in my heart I would not see it.

I liken it to a basic instinct I thought humans had grown away from. But in Mithun, I found the hairs on the nape of my neck raising, my eyes always darting to the same place even though I knew, I knew it would be empty. Like a twig snapping behind you on a dark road, my eyes would snap away from food, from my book, from the screen of the TV, from a friend I was conversing with- that base instinct to identify, to locate a threat running through my veins at every turn- the frightened animal in me would obey and look.

Every time my gaze would snap to the same place and every time it would be empty. And still, it waited, watching all of us with a patience that disturbed me.

This was not the first time I had felt something so malicious but this was the first time it didn’t abate the entire time I was there. Sometimes these things are angry, maybe a day or two and then they shift to something different. Sometimes they’re curious, watching with idle fascination as we continue living.

But this- whatever it was- watching with an intensity that brewed-

The room I was in had a creaky closet, empty of anything because I knew we would be moving so all I owned was in boxes. I would stare at that empty closet when the night came. My one saving grace, my touchstone, was my dog who I would reach for whenever the nightmares would be too much. And the night was the worst. Most times I would reach from my dog, grasping at his thick fur because something was there. Sometimes he would start awake and I would start with him, both of us searching for whatever it was that disturbed the peace.

Without fail, I would close that closet every night and every morning, I would wake to see the darkness of the closet yawning at my feet. I placed boxes in front of it, jammed the door, oiled the hinges, wired it shut and every time, I would wake up to it creaking open. Weirdly, I preferred that. The alternative would be the mornings I woke to find it open, having not heard the creak at all.

I asked Joy about the presence as we were going over the final deep clean, asking if she knew about the thing coiled, waiting. And she hesitated. Joy made me promise to ask again after we had fully moved out and I swore I would. So we continued- packing boxes, cleaning floors and loading the truck.

On the last day, my roommates asked me to complete the final check as they carried the last boxes over and all at once, I found myself alone in Mithun. The first bedroom I check was the furthest from the front door, next to the only bathroom in the apartment. And I closed the door, I felt something in the corner. The light from the hallway did not touch one of the corners, the shadows darker than I thought they would be. And I felt it. The eyes of something.

The quiet- it was too quiet in this apartment this close to the city- and it knew.

One last check.

One last time we would be here.

And it had waited.

Fear is a tricky thing and I can still feel that raw emotion that ran through me buried in my memories.

It was twisting, over and over itself, I could feel it’s hatred of us leaving as I could feel the sickness of fear sink into my gut. This last time- this was the last time- and I only had to look in the corner- one last time-

That last time, I kept my eyes firmly on the floor as I fumbled for the handle. I don’t have faith in a god so powerful it can obliterate others, I don’t have my mother’s faith in prayers that will ward those spirits away. The terror of meeting a darkness that was tangible has left a fear I still have today.

I kept my eyes away from the shadows, away from the watcher, and I closed the door with a final click. To this day, I don’t regret that decision. I still don’t know the shape of the thing in Mithun place and I have no envy of those who do. There are things in this life that are worth not knowing.

I didn’t complete the final check as well as I should. After the first room, I closed every door but I didn’t have the courage to turn off the lights.

In our new place, after all the boxes had been lifted in, I asked Joy what she had meant about the thing in the apartment.

“I felt it.” She agreed. I didn’t think she noticed but she was gripping her hands together, wringing them slightly. “I didn’t want to tell you while we were there but Claudia’s girlfriend tried to commit suicide in the bathroom upstairs. We caught it in time and she’s fine but- that thing- it got worse after that.” The feeling of it lingers with me still but I know it does not follow. I haven’t felt something quite like it since we left it in that place.

In this new apartment, both my partner and I have noticed a man who stands at the door of the kitchen. He appears at night and for a while, I would wake to find the outline of him watching us sleep. I still don’t know who he is or why he’s watching but I know there was an elderly man who lived here before us. One of the rules with my family is not to commune with spirits so I do not try to find the answers but here, in this place, I don’t have the heart to cast him away.

There have been many more encounters of these things, these spirits, or demons, or something that remains that I have experience that I have not listed here and I’m sure there will be many more.

Every one is different and in every situation I feel I learn something. But can you learn something if you cannot tell others what it is you’ve learned? I lack the ability to articulate the knowledge I’ve gained and for the life of me, I cannot tell you what the lessons are. But if you don’t know the lessons, there’s a chance you don’t need them.

I’ve met quite a few people who don’t feel these things and who know there is no such things as ghosts. They have no need for these lessons and I have no need to find a way to condense the instincts I’ve built into simple words. I hope more people don’t need them, I hope they never encounter what I met in Mithun.

But god, if it exists, must have a humor.

#ghosts #god #demons #maybe horror?#probably horror #horror #religion #memories #ghost #haunting #spooky #don't read if you don't want spook #tw suicide #suicide #suicide mention

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knightofpentacles · 4 years ago

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been thinking a lot about the fact that i have a stronger belief in spirits and things whereas my bf believes more strongly in aliens

#it just cracks me up #like i love listening to him talk about all of the alien stuff because that was never my thing #not that i don't think it's impossible #or that our beliefs couldn't overlap #just if i'm thinking about non-human interactions they are one of the last to come to mind #but anytime i mention like spirity things he's like 'stop that i do not want to bring that in the house'#and im like lol #our house has a spirit and there's something that likes to lurk in the shadows at night whether you like it or not so idk what to tell you #also hello!#this blog has been dead for a hot minute because i left an abusive relationship and things kinda go ~ * w e i r d * ~#i would like to come back to this #allll of this #and i think i'm finally in a place to have time for it again #personal

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mystic-kitten-writer · 3 years ago

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Limerence [M] ︳36

Pairing: Zuko x OC

Genre: Romance, mainly fluff with future smut, and if you squint hard enough - you’ll find some angst.

Rating: SFW

Words: 15400+

Notes: It’s here! It’s been a while since I’ve updated, and I’m ready to get into the groove of things once again. Get ready for the next chapter, it’s the infamous bonus chapter many of you have asked for. I even teased a bit of it here muhaha~ I hope you enjoy, and it brings forth a ton of emotion. Tons of love and thanks for the support!

Please stay healthy and safe, take care~!

Masterlist ︳35 [M] ︳ Bonus pt. 3 [M]

❤ Buy me a coffee? ❤

Limerence: (English/n.) the state of being infatuated with another person.

The moment their eyes locked they knew - the flames within him twisted while the water within her turned. It was a connection, a connection that would lead to love, adventure, and drama.

Tartle

(Scottish/v.) to hesitate to recognize a person or thing; happens when you are introduced to someone whose name you cannot recall.

~ Fire Lord Zuko ~

Thunder.

It roared through the sky, causing the ground to tremble, the air around us buzzing with an electrical charge—the droplets striking against the windows, a desperate cry from nature itself - the thunder its screams.

But how?

How did the world always know? Matching and dancing with our emotions- was it mocking me? Mocking Yue?

The beams of light that lit up the study, the heated glow from the candlelight rippled from the outside’s growing rage. Shadows lurking, the bitter chill in the air ran down my spine and had my bones aching.

“Lord Zuko-” they voiced, and like that, I was brought back to reality, my eyes focusing. When did I even zone out? A numbness was slithering its way into my mind like the hazy fog that had begun to settle over the Fire Nation.

A leathered-gloved hand reached upwards, pulling the red scarf that always decorated his face under his stubbled chin. His expression, while simple, spoke a million words. I always respected Yue’s ability to study, to read people’s emotions, and at this moment in time; I finally realized what she saw.

Face stoned, yet his eyes never wavered. He was meeting my gaze with a heaviness that mimicked the depths of fire.

“Mihir-” I swallowed. A warning, a confirmation.

Axe.

The General, Axe.

One of the finest warriors the Fire Nation ever housed. A hero for many of the villages in the Earth Nation. A proclaimed traitor till recently, but most importantly, he’s Yue’s dad.

Deep inhale, my eyes shutting for a moment. The turbulent waves of turmoil, but in the end, only one feeling persisted. And if the room weren’t tense, I would’ve snorted because her damn sense of curiosity really did rub off on me.

Dead or alive - that was the question that lingered. Carved on my face as I gawked at Mihir with wonder. And with a stale huff, he spoke, “What do you think?”

Is everyone a mindreader? I ticked, my hand rubbing my jaw.

Yue’s mom was stubborn, or so I was told. But something tells me Yue’s mother wasn’t the only determined spirit. That look in Yue’s eyes whenever a thought popped into her mind, nibbling on her lips as an alluring yet formidable aura would envelop her- from her battle with Azula to Yakone. A force to be reckoned with.

Axe has to be alive.

I could feel it in my bones the moment I read that document, his body unrecoverable. Daughter like father - they’re warriors. Never someone to go down without a fight.

“Are you sure?” I held, and Mihir snickered, my skepticism useless. “I sure hope so, or else I have some random man imprisoned in my house-”

“What-” I gasped, nostrils flaring at the news and Mihir stared at me blankly, “You think that man willingly wanted to come, with me, a secret service Fire Nation militant.”

“That man is Ying Yue’s father-”

“Who, as far as he knows, believes his daughter has been coerced into a far-from-loving engagement with the Fire Lord,” Mihir added.

My hands, settling over my face as I roared into my palms. Forcing Yue? Hurting Yue-The rush that coursed through my body, unleashing every ounce of frustration because fuck.

If it weren’t for the thunder howling outside, the guards would’ve trotted themselves in - wondering who is being butchered. Good job, Zuko. You’re a fucking genius. An absolute gem. Lock up Yue’s Dad. Make him think I am hurting his daughter, a great fucking first impression.

“With all due respect, Lord Zuko, I tried to inform you, but you had a ‘terrible cold,’ and I couldn’t exactly tell Ying Yue, could I?” Mihir spoke as I rolled my shoulders back, my hands weakly falling to my front.

“Poisoned.” I tutted, and Mihir let out a meek grin, “Same shit, different day.”

“I need a drink.” I announced begrudgingly as I turned on my heel, “Want one?”

“I need something to warm up these old bones.”

With a worn step, I found myself moving without much thought.

My fingers were browsing for the nearest bottle, fiddling with the lid as the need to feel that dark burn running down my throat grew. Flashes of lightning bounced off the bottles, twinkling like the fireflies that would appear in the garden at night. My lips parted as empty sighs left me, combing my hair back, and for a moment, that sweet bliss from this morning came rushing.

To feel Yue’s calming touch over my face, her fingers gliding and smiling as her rhythmic pulse had me easing into a deep slumber in seconds. Even the sound of the rain felt different, enchanting; some would say when it was in her presence.

Everything was better with Yue.

From chaos to peace, I flicked my wrist, cutting off the pour to a mere shot for us both.

Not bothering to place the bottle back with the collection, I nudged the cold glass towards Mihir, silently acknowledging. His calloused fingers grazed mine, taking the tumbler and raising it, “To the past not staying dead.”

“For the better-” I added with the thought of Yue seeing her dad once again. And with a low breath, Mihir finished, “Or for worse.”

He is referring to Azula.

The strong taste flooded my senses, wincing at the sudden flavour that seemingly rinsed the troubles away, even if just for a moment. But why was my mood so sour? Why wasn’t I happy that we found Axe? Wasn’t that the plan all along?

My hands felt clammy, beads of condensation dripping down the ridges of the glass and onto my palm. Reunite Yue with her father, lift his status, give Yue a chance to heal…

Ever so softly, I found myself letting the tumbler rest on the study, my eyes catching sight of the adorable scribbles of Yue’s works. Odd, seeing her writing mixing with mine. To not feel so alone…Did the previous Fire Lords feel the same joy?

To have someone by their side or were they all miserable assholes just like-

“When was the last time you visited your father?” Mihir whispered, his voice muffled as his scarf found itself un-bunching from under his stubbled chin. Smoothly, he placed his serving on the study with mine, the glass thud echoing in the room as I lowered.

“Not long enough.” I bitterly retorted as I grabbed my cup once more.

Me coercing Yue into marrying me? Staying with me? My forehead scrunched as Mihir’s words tormented my mind. I knew I forgo putting away the booze for a reason. Readily snapping the lid off, only to pour another shot into my too-empty of a glass.

Forcing Yue into a toxic marriage? I scowed at the mere idea of doing such a thing, let alone with Yue, the bottle banging against the table harder than I had wanted. The sound could have challenged the thunder as the ridges of the tumbler dug into my skin as my lips pressed together tightly, forming a thin line.

A marriage of pure political gain or some sick revenge. Who do I seem like? Do I seem like a twisted fuck? Some monster like my father-

I didn’t realize the tremble in my hand. The alcohol swishing side to side in my cup as I aimlessly stared down the glass. The scent was overwhelming, taking in a lung full as I finally let myself breathe in. It stung, but I couldn’t pull away, staring back at the reflection where that murky liquid swirled.

It was me.

With my hair pinned back, the tips of my red robes just barely making an appearance into the reflection. Despite the casual attire, I dressed like royalty, a King.

But never have I felt as small as I do now.

The banished prince.

The reject, the failure, the less then.

The one who managed to reclaim the throne after overthrowing his father with the Avatar. For years I tried to make peace with the sins this Nation has inflicted, and for a while, I thought I finally made progress. But the scar that pulsed angrily on my skin, my expression white-

I didn’t want Axe to view me like my father.

To think I would treat Yue like how he treated my mother.

Too stubborn of an attitude to admit that I cared about what Axe thinks of me because with the Avatar as my witness, I was in love with Yue. I craved her praise and for her sweet acceptance. I may be prideful beyond reason, but damn, would I get down on my knees for her in a heartbeat. What has she done to me?

With an annoyed sigh, I let the filled glass rest again, shutting my eyes as I tried to even my breathing.

The feeling, the tightening in my chest, as I fought back and forth between happiness and dread wasn’t one of annoyance but nerves. Once again, an awkward teenage boy, trying to seek the approval of a father, just this time, it wasn’t mine.

Everything I worked for up to this point would feel pointless if this whole plan went south. Make Yue happy - that was the goal, my purpose. I need a word with everyone because if there was one thing I wasn’t good at it, it was good first impressions.

I turned on my heel, my eyes shifting once again on Mihir’s figure.

Standing tall yet silent, his wet clothes clinging to his body-like skin. He must be freezing. The muted colours he often wore somehow looking darker. “I’ll request for spare clothes,” I muttered under my breath, realizing how harsh my response was to his thought-provoking yet straightforward question.

I wasn’t exactly the introspecting type of guy after all. Easier to lash than to understand and listen. Soothing jasmine tea with Iroh is in need with some of Yue’s biscuits.

But Mihir merely shook his head, listening to the turbulence outside the wide window that framed the study. “I need to go, check up on Axe, which leads me to my next question.” Mihir started, crossing his arms with a stoned expression, “What do you want to do next?”

Next-

“You have Axe locked up as we speak?” I pinched, recalling that less than favourable detail and Mihir nodded, “As I said before, not exactly welcoming to the idea of visiting the Fire Lord. And after multiple attempts from him trying to burn me, I didn’t want to take any more chances.”

My shoulders dropped, letting my head roll in thought - recalling our conversation back at Ember Island. Axe ran because he’s scared he’ll endanger Yue with his mere presence. Not knowing if the Fire Nation had, or would ever, stop hunting for him. Who knows how he’ll react when he is brought here.

This isn’t a man fighting for his life; this is a man fighting to protect his only daughter—loyalty, family-life, it was more than just important to them. This won’t be some cute family reunion or as simple as meeting up with the gang after a few months. Yue still thinks he’s dead. She said her final goodbyes years ago.

“Give me a day,” I said, raising my head.

Despite the rouge fabric obstructing his face, I could see his light scowl, not pleased with the idea. “A day?” Mihir repeated, a hanging question, part of him hoping he merely misheard me, but I nodded, asserting my request.

“A day. Ying Yue, she needs a day of peace, to relax.” I answered as I relived her exhausted figure cocooned in bed.

While I could see the genuine delight in her eyes as we cuddled, her midnight hair still damp as she snuggled herself as close as possible to my warmth, I could see it. The dark under bags, skin faint. She was overworked, drained emotionally and her chi- I pushed the thought away. Unable to admit that she’s running out of time.

She needs a day to have some peace of mind, not to worry or think. I can’t have her getting any sicker-

“And you?” Mihir questioned, and I tilted my head, pulled from my thoughts, “…me?”

“How are you feeling?”

I took in a deep breath, letting out a short laugh, “I just woke up from a coma. I have my sister trying to kill Ying Yue, my ex-girlfriend is trying to kill me, and now Axe is alive.”

The low chuckle of his, the corners of Mihir’s eyes pinching as he found amusement in my dry humour. “So you’re doing great.” Mihir entertained, and I smiled softly, “I have Ying Yue.”

“Your marriage to her…it’s going to bring upon a great change for this nation..” Mihir stated. A great change? Before I could ask, he let out a long exhale.

Patting himself down and making sure his belongings were on his body. The white hairs of his beard peeking from the warm fabric that covered him. Strange how he could wear such a thick thing. Then again, Yue easily sleeps with a shit ton of blankets despite the heat. Mihir looked once more outside, studying the gray skies as if he could tell time from the swirling clouds alone.

“Better get going, a day of rest before we met again.”

“Thank you for your work,” I muttered.

“Any time, Fire Lord Zuko.” The bow, hand over his heart before he moved.

Watching as his large back turned to me, his shoulders relaxing for a moment before he set off to his next duty. Striding to the study doors, he adjusted his scarf. He was grabbing the ends, ready to tug the fabric tight.

I found my golden eyes travelling around the room, the thunderous roars from outside coming into focus as our conversation died.

My palms rested on the wooden study, feeling the texture beneath me as I continued to scan the papers. Which looked the easiest to finish? Work on a few things while Yue slept away. Lunch is going to be delivered soon, so I’m going to have to wake her. And I smiled softly, already thinking of that pout that would form on her face whenever she woke up. Rubbing her eyes and huffing, ‘another minute, please.’

My fingers danced over Yue’s scribbles, her notes proving helpful in searching for work. And as I pushed aside a pile, something caught my eye.

I perked, tilting my head as tucked underneath a pile was a luxurious paper. High-quality, thick, the emerald colour was standing out like a sore thumb in the clutter of red and beige. It had to be a letter, the corner of a broken wax seal peeking, and I frowned. Why does it look so familiar? As if I read this, or was reading it?

I reached, grazing the papyrus texture, an unexplainable draw, beckoning me to read before a voice interrupted my sudden trance.

“Before I depart, shall I prepare for your Uncle’s return trip? For security.”

I turned on my heel; my forehead pressed at the sudden question Mihir asked. It took me a moment to realize what exactly he had proposed, the green-coloured letter taking hold of my mind. His hand was resting on the doorknob, waiting, and I blinked, searching for an answer.

Shit, he’s right.

Uncle was supposed to leave last week, but he probably stayed behind with me falling ill. “I will inquire with him. An answer when we see each other once again.” I said quickly, regaining focus.

Mihir nodded, “And your condolences? Will you be sending it with Iroh, or shall I prepare a secure line?”

“Condolences?” I repeated, no longer answering over my shoulder but turning my body to face Mihir. The fog over me lifted, eyes narrowing as I took an uneasy step forward. A secure line to the Earth Nation?

Mihir froze.

His sharp eyes were searching, reading the look on my face as my mind ran blank. Whatever passing must have happened while I was under because the last time I checked, no one passed away. Yet the look on his face was proving to me that it was something I should have known, silent for far too long, my gut twisting in knots.

“Lord Zuko…” Mihir rustled, raising his hand to pull down his scarf from his face again, “The Earth Nation’s Queen’s brother, Kayto, passed away on his return trip from here.”

“What-” I exclaimed, stepping forward as my blood ran cold. That rough voice, Yue’s pained expression as she lunged forward-

‘I’m going to kill them the same way I killed Kayto.’

Yakone. He was telling the truth. That fucking-

“Lord Zuko,” Mihir spoke sternly, not realizing he was right in front of me, watching me with the utmost concern because I was glued to my spot.

My hands were balled into fists, trembling with spirits knows what emotions at this fucking point. What was it with us never being able to have a good day? A simple day? Fuck- I hated Kayto’s guts; there wasn’t a single doubt about that, but the thought of dying by Yakone’s hands.

Everyone heard the rumours.

The way he often left the bodies of his enemies. Twisted and disfigured, making sure to leave them in a pool of their blood to show the world he killed them with their essence. Even an asshole like Kayto deserved better.

I could feel the bile in my throat because while the death of Kayto was sure to be painful, what I feared more was Yue’s reaction. She’s going to feel like she failed to protect him. She’s going to blame herself for his death.

“How?” I asked.

“How what?”

“How did he die?” I hissed. I need answers; I need them now-

“N-natural causes, it seems.” Mihir stuttered, an uncommon occurrence as he found himself ajar at the sudden eagerness from myself. He didn’t understand, no one understood besides the gang. Details of Yakone’s words that we have unintentionally forgotten because of everything else going on around us.

“Kayto was found dead in his bed as they were sailing. The man drank excessively and slept around with many women, probably caught something, or his liver finally gave out.” Mihir answered, and I couldn’t help but shake my head.

Bullshit. There was no fucking way Kayto died naturally or peacefully.

“You truly did not know?” Mihir asked, and I tutted, shaking my head as I turned on my heel, “No. When did news of this break?”

“Before you fell ill, they sent a letter-”

The green letter.

With haste, I moved, grabbing the envelope, as I stared at it. I was here…I was standing while reading this, Yue sitting in my chair, Sokka and Suki cuddled. Memories of that day rushing and my head hammered.

It hurt.

My head was feeling like it was going to explode as I fought to scramble the moments right before the tea. Katara apologized; I had an outing with mother-

With a scowl, I rose my hand, motioning at Mihir to come forward because I couldn’t remember a damn thing. Why can’t I remember? Was it because I was out for too long? I would’ve remembered reading about his death unless-

“Mihir, come,” I ordered, ripping the letter open.

The thickness of the papers, breaking the document into two before facing him. The pieces, seemingly untouched as not a single crease or fold, littered the papers besides the first page. I never finish reading it. They were talking about Bloodbenders. I ended the meeting; I couldn’t focus and barely got two pages in-

“Search. Anything about Kayto’s death. This was sent to me right before I drank the tea.”

“So this whole time-”

“I had no fucking clue he was dead.”

Yakone wasn’t lying; he had no reason to. For him to know about his death back at Ember Island, before I or the Earth King’s letter could arrive- he had to have a role, the cause.

Mihir grabbed the papers in my hands, licking the tips of his fingers before he began flipping. Our eyes scanned, searching for any essential information besides Republic City. Money, transfers, nation maps, new borders-

I paused for a moment, a name I haven’t heard in a while making a brief appearance.

‘In other events, Jin has announced her pregnancy. On behalf of the Earth Kingdom, we are arranging a small gathering in celebration in the upcoming months. As a close friend of hers and our Nation, we are eager to know if you will be sending a gift for the celebration or a visit. If so, we will arrange housing and security for yourself and Imperial Consort, Ying Yue, visitation.’

Jin, she’s pregnant- I thought marriage was a big deal, but she’s having a baby.

“Anything?” Mihir asked as he let a few papers drop on the study, his eyes continuing to scan about. I shook my head, not realizing a small smile had formed on my face, refocusing my attention on the matter at hand.

Rather than tossing the paper with the rest, I put it aside. A trip to the Earth Nation with Yue. It would be her first out of Nation appearance as impending Queen. The last time I visited, I went with Mai…

I’ll let Yue decide, handle it. I can trust her on these matters. And for some odd reason, the sudden realization that I had someone to rely on had my shoulders easing.

We searched; the sound of papers sweeping against each other as we tossed and browsed challenged the commotion outside. The rapid flipping caused the pieces close to us to flutter. Where was it? Would it not be the first thing in this damn novel he sent us?

The death of his brother-in-law seems like big enough news for the Earth Nation to report upon-

“Here!” Mihir perked, and just like that, I let the papers in my grasp drop.

I inched, our shoulders touching as Mihir flicked the paper straight. He was jamming his finger into the course paper, denting exactly where the announcement started. The cursive, both of us holding our breath as there it was. He’s really-

“It is with regret that we announce the death of Her Royal Majesty’s brother, Lord Kayto. During his return trip from the Fire Nation, Kayto passed away peacefully in his sleep. A memorial will be taking place within the upcoming weeks-” Mihir read, his voice trailing as he let the paper go limp in his hands.

Kayto is dead. And no one knows it wasn’t a ‘natural’ cause but a few.

But why is the Earth Nation hiding the fact that his death was a murder? Would they not have seen his body? Unless Yakone went against his usual; a clean murder.

‘I’m going to kill them the same way I killed Kayto’ his words played in my head, and that’s when it finally fucking clicked.

Yakone’s threat, he didn’t mean kill us in a gruesome manner. He meant that he could murder anyone, us, without a single soul suspecting fool play. Kill us, and make us suffer while letting our loved ones think we died happily. He’s bragging, taunting-

I clicked my tongue, eyes squeezing shut because Yakone got away with murder. And not just the murder of anyone, but a high-status, elite from the Earth Nation. The Queen’s brother.

What do I do?

There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that Yue would be eager to tell the truth to the Earth Nation. That was just who she was, and I swallowed hard because I knew better.

Without physical proof, word of mouth meant nothing. And if I say something, the mere idea that he passed away from his return trip makes it seem like the Fire Nation had something to do with it. As if we killed him. The beginning steps of a war brewing.

“Lord Zuko?” Mihir spoke, and I cursed.

Shit. I keep zoning out. I shook my head, pinching the bridge of my nose because my head throbbed. So many details, critical parts, like gears in a machine, twisting and, in some way, affecting each other. Everything is connected, and Mihir wasn’t stupid to miss it.

“There is more to his death, isn’t there?”

“Yakone,” I spoke plainly. His name alone was enough to convey my worries.

A pest, no matter how many times we tried to swat him away, he managed to vanish right when we had him in our grasp. A chaotic force of nature, with a power that only Aang could counter. But even then, I had my worries.

Could Aang face Yakone? Katara mentioned once that only a Bloodbender could outplay another. She’s powerful, but Yakone, he was on a whole other level. But Yue-

“Does this connect with your altercation during your time off?” Mihir breathed, and I perked, “Who told you?”

“I am not your secret intelligence personnel for no reason.”

A truly cunning man. He was hiding behind his red scarf with a fozy smile. I crossed my arms, “Yakone told us about Kayto’s death before this letter was even sent or arrived. We figured he was bluffing.”

“...he killed Kayto.”

“There’s more,” I whispered, my voice dropping pitch because there was something odd about everything.

The tears that ran down Yue’s face after our battle. He knew the tale, the story behind the cranes that were tattooed on her skin. My stomach was in knots because I could no longer let the thought go. I needed to know, hoping it was nothing more but my overactive imagination.

Mihir, sensing the tense atmosphere leaned forward as I gave my final order.

“Ying Yue’s mother, Kasa Jiang, and Yakone...I want a full report, in particular, family history.”

“Yakone?” Mihir snorted, shaking his head with bewilderment.

It was like I said a terrible joke, struggling to understand why I would say such a thing. Don’t blame him. Any effort to search for the most basic of details proved nearly impossible. But my expression didn’t waver; my lips pressed as I stared forward.

Only then did Mihir go quiet, realizing I was dead serious.

“With all due respect,” Mihir started, raising his hands as if to ease the rejection of such a request, “Yakone has managed to avoid us because we have been unable to find a single piece of dirt about the man. I’m good, but not that good.”

“That’s why I said, look at Ying Yue’s mother,” I answered, and the thunder crashed once again.

The lightning was illuminating the room, highlighting the dread on Mihir’s face, his eyes sunken. He realized what I was suggesting. And never did I wish to be wrong as much as I did right now.

The green envelope rustled in my grasp, letting it roll and twist. The felt-like texture was oddly comforting, distinct from the typical lightweight paper. The pads of my fingers swiped at the wax seal, feeling all the ridges and divots and imperfections.

At one point in time, the wax was hot, sealing the envelope shut of its horrors. And for the nth time this day, I hitched a breath.

Shutting my eyes briefly, thinking of how to break it to Yue. There really was no easy way. The look on her face, her doe-like eyes were filled with tears. I hope she’s asleep—avoidance seeming like a viable option at the moment.

Cursing, I walked down the hallway, staring past my sullen reflection in the windows.

The storm that was outside somewhat calmed, the crashing and roars no longer echoing in the kingdom. Mihir got lucky, it seems. Faint rays of the sun managing to peak from the gray clouds.

The weather these past weeks seemed uneasy, bouts of rain and sun happening at once. But the puddles that laid outside, animals gradually crawling their way out of their burrows, was all the evidence needed to show that a nasty storm was once here.

My footsteps felt heavy, the green folder in my hands begging for my attention. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t ignore it. No longer appreciating the nature outside, something Yue had taught me, but sulk.

It was just so evident; the colour, the size, the thickness. Every servant and guard was eyeing the stupid thing before giving a greeting. Maybe I could just burn the damn thing. Not share the news, keep it a secret, because how-

How the actual fuck am I going to tell Yue? Another audible exhale, dragging my feet towards our bedroom.

Just don’t tell her, simple as that.

No, you idiot. No more hiding or lies; she deserves to know the truth.

But you know it’ll hurt her-

“Lord Zuko?” A voice spoke, and I rose my head, realizing where I was.

They stood on guard, their hands resting on the large bedroom doors, ready to open them for me. But they wore an expression of concern, and of course, they noticed this stupid thing. Their eyes were darting awkwardly to the formidable folder that laid rest in my grip.

My thumb dug into the opening, genuinely toeing with the idea of burning it and throwing the ashes out the window. Pay them off; they’d never tell a soul what just happened—a win-win.

“Has lunch arrived?” I asked, anything to avoid talking about these wretched papers, and the guards shook their head, “Any moment now. But Avatar Aang stopped by. Requesting an impromptu meeting with, and I quote, ‘the gang,’ sometime after you and Imperial Consort Ying Yue have eaten.”

I snorted.

Despite being the Avatar, Aang wasn’t quite suave with etiquette. Talking informally with anything or anyone.

“Send word that I accept,” I said with a pressed smile, “and if you’ll excuse me-”

They quickly got the hint.

Their gloved hands spread along with the wooden frame, applying gentle pressure, yet the doors creaked, revealing its age. The warmth of the sunlight began flooding into the hallway, and I sent a silent prayer to the spirits.

Please, let Yue be asleep. Let me crawl into bed, hug her from behind, erasing and forgetting about the joys of Axe and the death of Kayto-

And just like, I melted.

Moments like these, I honestly wondered if someone as perfect as her could be true.

An uncontrollable reaction, a spell, a trance.

The soreness in my muscles, the ache of my bones; it all disappeared as the stupidest of smiles would appear on my usually stoic expression. What have you done to me?

All these years, denying and dismissing every notion of love, a soulmate. It was a foolish idea, a fleeting dream. Royals, Fire Lords, they never married out of love. They married for politics, for money, for power.

Love…It was a concept to laugh at, and it was one thing I was unconsciously jealous of whenever I saw Katara and Aang, Sokka and Suki. Free to be with who they want.

All these years, alone and bitter as I sat in my office. Fleeting romances; they came and went, none of them staying, working. No one looked at me with the kindness that Aang gave Katara or listened as Suki did with Sokka.

Love?

It was a lie. A stupid concept for the hopeless-

But there she laid.

Perched on her elbows with a smile as bright as a million suns. Her shoulders were relaxed, Yue gazing up at me with a tenderness people could only fantasize about. It was like she was staring right at my soul, past every flaw and scar.

She was love. And even better than that, she looked renewed.

At peace, light as a feather.

A single breeze, and I would find myself desperately reaching to the skies to pull her close once again. I didn’t even notice I was inching my way to her naked figure, questionably covered by the pulled blankets. Her dark hair was cascading and overflowing onto the bed, the upper part of her tattoo completely visible to the prying eye. I was tempted to run my fingers along her soft skin, enticing those sweet purs.

"Zuko,” she sung, pulling me closer, “what’s that?”

The spell was broken.

Swallowing hard and unable to breathe. The reason I was here, the burden in my steps to this festering headache. No matter how hard I tried to hide it, Yue knew. That was her strength, one of the many reasons I fell in love with her.

Her brows pinched together, elevating her naked figure off the bed and tucking the sheets close to her chest for some modesty. She could see the conflict, a personal storm brewing in my head, worse than the one that just hit us.

Cause in my hands, I held the truth.

And the truth was never pretty.

“Zuko,” Yue spoke, her voice wavering, and I could hear that tremble of her lip. I can’t hide the truth from her. My job is to protect, support, and care, but I’m not protecting her by hiding this.

And after a pregnant pause, I lifted the document, “Love…did you read this?”

The sympathetic cast she held upon me shifted, eyes drifting to the envelope in my hands. She took a moment, studying the green-coloured paper, but once her eyes fell over the wax seal, she lit up. She recognized it.

“I didn’t…I wasn’t sure if I should after I saw it was addressed to you, personally. Did you not see the note I left on top in the study?” It must have fallen off. But I perked at her statement, “How did you know I went to the study?”

Yue gave me a small smile with a blush, tilting her head. “That’s where I left it, and even then, there are only two places where I can find you,” she said before a tongue-in-cheek expression swiped over her delicate features, “This bed, or the study.”

What a brat- I like work and sex, sue me.

A dull smile came upon me as I strolled to her side, to rest. The red against her skin, her tiny hands were clinging onto the blanket. The little banter, she did it on purpose. And effortlessly, she let her delicate touch fall over my thigh, squeezing.

“That letter…it’s something terrible, isn’t it?”

I sighed, Yue, nibbling on her lip as she stared at me. Patient; Yue was so utterly patient it was frustrating.

She was never pushing or prodding, despite her curious nature wanting to do so eagerly. It was different from everyone else. Expecting me to open up and know every thought in my mind-

“Not all terrible,” I said, recalling the news of Jin’s pregnancy. The softness of the mattress gave way under me, Yue’s body dipping in. It’s been such a long time since this room felt like home, comfortable and safe to be in, especially with her.

But Yue shook her head, “But not good enough for you to smile.”

“Love-” I exhaled, and Yue interrupted, “Zuko.”

Her voice was forceful, a tone not commonly heard. Passive in nature, but I could tell she was having none of it at the moment: a new assertiveness, newfound confidence.

“No more secrets.” She told, her gaze not wavering, and for once, I shut up.

A cloud was passing by, casting a dark haze before the breeze pushed it away, allowing the sunlight to pour into the room once again. And it left a radiant flush over her figure as her fingers drew aimless circles along my lap.

She was thinking, her mind buzzing and lips parting to speak, but not a single word left. She doesn’t know where to start. If she genuinely wants to know, and I smiled pitifully. My job is to support.

With a careful drop, my hand fell over hers, pulling it close to my chest. “Love…” I breathed. The back of her hand feeling the thumping of my heart while I felt her racing pulse under my fingers. Sluggishly, I moved the green document, placing it before her.

“It’s your choice. I want you to tell me what you want.”

“I want to know.” She spoke confidently. She didn't stutter, expressing what she wanted and I nodded.

With care, I let my thumb push past the wax seal. Not a single word was spoken between us, only the sound of papers rustling.

Yue was waiting as I fiddled with the stack before plucking the page that contained the truth that she has been wondering all this time. I could tell from the tremble in her hand; she was anxious. The paper was jittering as she stared at me with round eyes, “Is this it?”

“Just this page, my love,” I said and with that, she read.

The truth was, I didn’t know when it hit her - and that was the scariest moment of all.

Yue, a ball of expressive emotions, wearing her feelings on her sleeves. Not afraid to laugh and cry. But the whole time, her body was still. Her breathing oddly even as the tremble in her hands stopped.

And if it weren’t for me, leaning closer, to take a good look at her face, I would’ve missed the tears that threatened to tumble over her rosy cheeks.

A silent, pained cry.

“Yue-” I gasped, twisting my body, pulling myself closer to her frame. But she looked up at me, a hurt smile on her face.

“He said he could die happy.”

Like glass shattering on the ground, Yue’s composure crumbled. Breaking into a million pieces as her head fell into my chest.

To care.

“Love-” I whispered, embracing.

Arms tight, my hand cradling her head close as her tears fell over my chest. The feeling, the sounds of her trying to breathe as I felt her chest constrict in agony.

My stomach, in knots because it hurt.

It hurt to hear her cry, to see her in distress and unable to do anything. Her body, already so tired and weak, despite all the rest in the world, was fighting to handle it all.

I swallowed, forcing myself to contain the waves of emotion Yue managed to pull from me. My eyes were glossy as she shook like a leaf. I hastily wrapped the blankets around her cold figure, creating a false sense of security from the evils in the world.

Listening to her sobs, I was struggling. A losing battle to contain the resentment that was tempted to erupt—the rage that coursed through my veins and the urge to lash because Yue was in pain. I felt hopeless, pathetic-

He’ll never get away with it.

To capture Yakone-make him suffer, hurt like he has hurt everyone—the only other person who could challenge my father in terms of evils.

Yue’s fingers clenched my robes as she fought to steady her breathing. Her eyes were puffy, her nose red. “I-It’s stupid,” Yue sniffled in my chest, her words muffled, “I had this feeling the whole time. T-that something terrible happened-”

“This isn’t your fault-” I started, ready to dispute her expected guilt because this was Yue. She cared to a fault. Seeing and wanting the best for everyone. But Yue shook her head, “I know that now.”

My eyes widen because that was the last thing I expected. S-she’s not crying out of guilt like I assumed-

Yue, the one who sleeps with a teddy bear, teared up when she accidentally stepped on a flower. The one who risked to save her life for our friends and family in a heartbeat. She was an emotional sponge, housing everyone’s pain.

‘I don’t want to be the main character,’ she said once. She just wants everyone to be happy and safe.

For her not to blame herself for this-

I smiled softly, stroking her hair back as I let my thumb brush her cheek. She smiled back, despite the tears that stained her face.

“I-I’m going to get strong, Zuko.” Yue hiccupped, furiously wiping the wetness from her eyes with the back of her palm. Her voice, despite the stutter, held a strength. Something that I knew was always in her but untapped until now. “I’m going to protect my friends, my family, and be the best Queen this kingdom has ever had.”

Yue was strong, stronger than anyone seems to give her credit for. Mistaking optimism as naiveness and her tears for weakness. I chuckled under my breath because Yakone-

Poor Yakone.

He has no idea what was about to hit him.

“Idiot.”

“Fool.”

“Stop moving, you royal pain in the ass!” Katara shouted, and right away, Toph spoke up, “Hey, that’s my insult.”

I rolled my eyes, huffing as Katara stood before me, her water retracting from my head. In part, I was surprised she didn’t try to drown me; the annoyance in her eyes clear as day. But despite her frustration and lectures, she kept a nurturing touch, minus the slap across my head at the end.

“What was that for-” I grumbled, and Katara frowned, “For making us worried.”

Aang stiffed in a giggle, but he couldn’t contain it the moment everyone else joined in. Based on their robust laughter and chatter, you would have never thought we were relaxing in the library.

The massive bookshelves, seemingly endless rows were lining the grand room. The high ceilings gave an illusion that the books reached the spirit world, scrolls from who-knows-when quickly found and lit up by the hanging chandeliers. The multiple windows made the room seem friendly, a much-needed upgrade from the original layout of the kingdom.

It’s crazy…Like night and day, it was hard to believe how much the kingdom had changed.

The walls were no longer dark muted colours and the art intimating, installing more windows to bring in the light and allowing more decorations besides weapons and guards.

Even the typical clothing and fashion have changed over the years, with no more sharp features or pointy shoulder pads. Something I was happy to get rid of after the number of embarrassing incidents of people getting caught on each other.

But the most significant change was when Yue came.

More flowers, more throw pillows, soft blankets thrown over the couches. Yue baking in the kitchen with the staff and going around the kingdom, gifting everyone who worked a cookie or muffin as a quick treat.

The smell of the kingdom was no longer of ash but of sweet baked goods, her fresh bread one of the kingdom’s favourites.

She brought life with her smiles and warmth with her touches. She may not be popular with the royals, but that wasn’t who I was trying to please. The kingdom’s morale had changed entirely, and even I found myself more considerate of the staff. A valuable lesson I learned from her, not by lecture, but by watching and learning.

I frowned.

Because while Suki gave me hugs and Sokka and Toph busted my balls, they all wore giant smiles. Letting me know about any further revelations that were found but happy that I was here and healthy. But Yue sat on the couch, her eyes staring out far in the distance.

Her chin was resting on her palm, her plain pink dress moving under the subtle breeze as a fluffy pillow laid on her lap. Her expression, it was like she wasn’t fully present, engaged. Smiling here and there at the jokes Sokka would say before letting it fall back down.

She’s thinking, and carefully, I moved, sneaking my way out of the conversation.

I quietly sat beside Yue, expecting a reaction, but her eyes were dull. And mindful not to startle her, I let my hand rest on her thigh, calling Yue with a whisper.

Right away, she perked, turning to me with a shy expression as she came out of her thoughts. “I’m sorry-” she muttered, collecting herself as she looked around the room. But no one paid much attention, chatting amongst themselves about Mai, Azula, Kayto-

“How are you feeling, love?”

The same question Mihir asked me today and a question Yue always asked others. But it wasn’t until recently people questioned how she was feeling, today being the first that she expressed her wants and desires—a family...with me.

Yue looked taken aback, her hands falling over mine as she toyed with the flowy fabric of her dress. “I’m...I-I don’t know.”

A sad smile on my face as I cupped her hand. Letting myself rest on the sofa, back leaning, enjoying the lush fabric underneath us. I gave her the time and space she needed to think, and she didn’t need much before talking once more.

“...I...feel like...I know, but I can’t accept it.”

“His death?” I asked as I turned my head, and Yue was already looking at me with a nod.

He was the bad guy.

The man who tried to hurt her, attacked her, yet Yue held him in such a regard that made me wonder why. What did she see that I didn’t? She said his last words was thanking her, and I bit my tongue, unsure whether to ask.

Yue let out a small giggle, her cheeks rosy as her knees brushed mine, “You’re just as bad as me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your curiosity.” Yue beamed.

I couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking my head as I let my thumb caress her palm. I knew it was ticklish for her at times, but she never did pull away, too much of a sucker for the contact.

“What did you see in him? I didn’t wish for his death, but...” I trailed, emphasizing my point, and Yue nodded with understanding. “He was just a puppet to Yakone...and I can’t imagine being a toy in someone's wicked plan…”

I sighed at her words, her statement hitting hard because that was my life: me and Azula, another cog in the machine. If only I could be the Iroh or Yue in her life, then maybe...just maybe, I could have my sister back.

“That day, when he left...his eyes- they were a gorgeous green. He looked so calm, at peace…nothing like the person who went on the walk with me...besides the flirting.” Yue smiled under her breath.

I rolled my eyes, bashful and regrettably jealous. Yue raising her hand to conceal her giggle, those eyes of hers sparking seeing the reaction she pulled. Like a child, I crossed my arms, and Yue's laughter only grew, leaning against my shoulder as she tried her best to wrap her arms around my bicep.

“Is the Almighty Fire Lord jealous~?” she pestered.

“You can’t be jealous of a dead man.”

“Mm, I think you proved otherwise.”

I pinched her nose, causing her to squeal. Her smile, though. Despite the playful pout, her eyes were brilliant, a particular life to them rather than staring off in the distance.

She’s beautiful, and before I could utter another word, Sokka’s voice cut in, “What’s that bruise on your neck, Princess?”

Yue wearing her emotions on her sleeves was both a blessing and a curse.

Easy to read and gauge her mood with a casual greeting, but it also gave away the simplest of facts, or in this case, far from family-friendly actions. I found myself smirking inwardly because I made no promises not to do it again.

Her cheeks turned cherry red, stumbling over her words as Yue couldn’t put together a single coherent thought. Sokka’s blue eyes narrowing, raising his hands as he started pointing at her and me erratically, “Y-you did not-”

The sly smile on Suki as she and Katara started snickering. Aang began kicking the imaginary dirt on the ground, playing oblivious to the chaos about to unfold. And Sokka’s face was turning a shade of red I have never seen before, stumbling over his words as hard as Yue.

He’s going to kill me. Do what the tea failed to do, and if given a chance, bring me back from the dead just to kill me once more- “Hey man, you see those swords over there?” I pointed, Sokka raising a brow before pivoting on his heel to see.

That was all it took for me to grab Yue’s hand, yanking her figure off the couch.

The fluffy cushion that rested over her flying into the air, her feet floundering and fighting to regain some sort of balance. Yue let out an adorable gasp, me pulling her along as I spoke a simple command.

“Run.”

The shouting and cheering as Aang swung a gust of air behind us with his wooden staff, the wind twirling before it grazed the bottom of our soles, giving us a running chance of making out of this alive. Toph snorted as our steps hammered against the flooring, ricocheting off the books that littered the place.

But the cherry on top was the bewilderment in Sokka’s voice as he watched our figures turn into fleeting dots. “He literally just woke up from a coma. How-when-�� Sokka shrieked, and like music, Yue was laughing.

Her hands gripping mine tightly, unable to stop the temptation to look over my shoulder and stare.

Her plentiful black locks were fluttering in the wind as we ran past the library doors, the guards shooting us odd looks but not saying a word as they heard Yue’s giggles. Her face was red, her eyes glistening with joy, a gummy smile painted over as she tried her best to match my steps.

“Zuko!” She shouted with glee, her fingers tangling with mine as tears of merriment decorated the corners of her eyes.

“We gotta hide!” I insisted, and Yue’s eyes sparkled, “The gardens!”

Before we knew it, we were splashing in puddles like toddlers. Running down the stone pathways, mud catching on the ends of our clothing, our shoes muddy. I’m never going to hear the end of this from Lia- but Yue was having the time of her life.

The droplets of rain falling from the trees onto our skin, our pace finally slowing down as the bushes and vegetation grew in density. The sun struggled to shine through the overarching trees, the flowers smaller in size than the large ones that decorated the busy paths.

We literally ran to the edge of the garden, and with the realization, Yue’s grasp slipped from mine.

Crouching over, my hands fell over my thighs. My heart was racing, breathing laboriously as my cheeks felt flushed. A burn running through my legs as it has been a week since I’ve actually moved, let alone engage in any physical activity.

The closest thing was the sex this morning, and even I had to admit it took a lot more energy than it should. But it was worth it. Especially seeing the lovely afterglow on Yue and the innocent smile that matched. Sure, it may cost my life, but I couldn’t help but grin because we really did just get away with that.

“He,” Yue tried to talk between pants, “he is going to kill you.”

And I don’t doubt that at all.

I stood up straight, brushing back my non-existent bun. The elastic that held my hair fell into my grasp, not bothering to fix it but let it sway in the warm breeze. With the sun pouring over our figures, I had to shut my eyes for a moment because it felt freeing.

To hear nothing but our heavy breathing, the dewy air against our skin. The things I never appreciated or noticed until Yue. She always said it was the simple things in life that can bring the utmost joy, and fuck, was she right.

Seeing how the droplets of left-over rain caused the sunlight to reflect, I looked over her, a halo effect appearing around her figure. She looks divine. Her head titled upwards as Yue peered up at the sky, her arms resting by her side. Her cheeks must hurt from how much she smiled in these moments, beginning to inch my way to her calming stance.

My arms slide around her waist, her back pressing into my chest, feeling each other’s heartbeats.

“Consider this your morning run,” I muttered into her ear, snuggling my face close to her neck, enjoying the coolness of her skin. Her scent engulfed me, sweet and already smelling of the grass after only spending not even a full ten minutes out here. Nevertheless, it was comfort.

Yue’s arms welcomed me, tightening the hold I held over her as Yue’s head titled backwards, resting over mine. She was silent, listening and letting her weight shift to where my hot breath tickled her neck.

“Zuko…”

“Mhm?”

“I want to plant a flower in the garden...in memory of Kayto.”

I froze, pulling back slightly, to stare down at Yue. Where did that come from? And with the loosening grip, Yue effortlessly twirled, her hands draped over my chest.

“A...flower?” I repeated, and Yue nodded, “He always called me that, flower or petal, and he did seem to like them.”

“And you want to do this because…?”

“When my parents died, I never got to say goodbye. To go back and make a proper grave or memorial…” Yue breathed, smiling softly as her fingers toyed with the hem of my top. The skin of my chest was peeking underneath the red robes, her nails grazing the skin and causing a shiver to run up my spine.

She’s opening up to me about her family. My lips pressed tight, listening to her words carefully because I was no fool. I knew how important this was for me to hear, to support, despite my distaste for the man.

“I got this tattoo, for them, after years. But it doesn’t change my wanting to go back to the Earth Nation and say goodbye.”

“Love, you don’t have to explain,” I whispered because I saw the look in her eyes. It was painful for her to think about, to express to me, but Yue shook her head and put on a brave face despite it all.

“I want to, Zuko. Kayto wasn’t the best person; I know that. I also didn’t know him for long either, but part of me wants to say goodbye in a way that we’d both like.”

My response?

It was simple, “Let’s do it, love.”

Yue’s eyes lit up, her mouth parting in surprise. “You want to plant a flower with me?”

“We can plant it tomorrow; I took the day off.”

Yue pouted, “A day off? Can you afford a vacation-”

I clicked my tongue, “Of course I can; I have you to help, don’t I?”

It was funny how Yue always teased me for loving or being excited over paperwork. But the look on Yue’s face at this moment, realizing that I wanted Yue to help me, to work by my side, had me holding back a prideful smile.

For far too long, I pushed her away from duties of the Kingdom, from responsibilities out of fear. And not because I believed she couldn’t do it, but because I can’t admit when I need help.

But I can’t rule this Kingdom by myself anymore. Not when I got a taste of having a partner. To know someone has my back no matter what. I knew I could always rely on Aang or Sokka for help, but seeing the passion on Yue’s face- this was more.

“Ahh, and love, we’re heading to the Earth Nation in a few months. An old friend of mine announced her pregnancy. I’ll leave you the details; handle the matter.” I dropped casually, not wanting to point out the evident excitement on her face from me giving her the duties of her role.

Not that I would leave her alone with no guidance, but there was no sense of worry in me. She could do this; I know she can. Too determined to not, and I was curious to see if she indeed got this trait from her father or not.

“M-me?” she exclaimed, in shock that I so quickly dropped this fact upon her, and I let my hands pat her hips, “Yes, you. And during our trip there, we’ll make a stop by your village. Give your parents the burial, the memorial they deserve.”

And Yue let her face fall in my chest, hugging me so tight I swear she was going to crush a lung.

I could feel her giant smile, her body trembling with happiness as I planted a soft kiss on her forehead, “Let’s pick a flower for Kayto.”

“A rose?”

“Too classy for him.”

“He did say orchid once, so maybe that?”

“Are those hard to grow?”

“I heard they can be quite fussy.”

“Sounds like him-”

“Zuko!”

“What? I’m just being honest-”

There were different types of headaches.

You had the stress headaches, realizing that you’re bringing a previously thought to be a dead man back to life and introducing the said person to their daughter. Then, there was trying to remember information after being in a coma for a week headaches.

And then you had these headaches.

The front of your head pulsing as the sunlight was far too bright, and I was tempted to submit a petition of silence because this- this is an I drank too much the other night, and it’s here to make its presence known headache.

My hand fell over my forehead, groaning under my breath, as the taste of alcohol still lingered despite brushing. The heat in the air, a gorgeous day without a doubt, as the birds were singing bright and early.

But it was that soft breathing along my neck, realizing that I couldn’t move my arm, that took my attention. Begrudgingly opening my eyes despite wanting to fall back asleep to look downwards, and damn was it worth it.

Yue, tucked perfectly in my arm, like two puzzle pieces coming together.

It was like we were made for each other. Yue the perfect height for our hugs, my chin resting on her head and her arms embraced my waist. Or in cases like these, Yue’s head easily rested between my shoulder and neck, her arms hugging the teddy I gifted in a stronghold.

Feeling her body against mine- the softness of her skin, my marks ornating her figure and trailing under the covers, had me grinning to myself. At this point, pyjamas were useless. A pointless piece of clothing because it seems from the moment I have awoken, we never managed to wear them for long.

The evidence?

The pile tossed to the side, her panties dangling on the couch.

My hand swiped the strands of hair that tumbled over her face, tucking it behind her ear as she drooled away. She was lost in her dreams, my fingers gently caressing her features.

There were so many details to learn and memorize. From the wrinkle on Yue’s forehead whenever she got annoyed or her eyes glittering when a thought popped in her head. My thumb, resting over the cupid of her lips, relishing the fullness and the naturally rosy pigment.

I hummed, my hand shifting, unable to stop the temptation to draw sporadically along her neck. Yue was twitching slightly in her sleep, ticklish from the gentle sensation, nudging her face further into my shoulder.

Should I wake her? We barely got any rest, between the club, the drinking, and the sex. Fuck, the sex. Pushing the more than pleasant memories away as quickly as they came.

My eyes shifted to the window; the curtains were already drawn as we forgot to do so last night.

The sun was high in the sky, and I swore under my breath. So unlike me, to sleep in. The morning riser, while Yue was the night owl, sleeping till dinner if it were up to her. But with the window open, I could smell the spices in the air, hearing the distant voices of the maids carrying the food in preparation for lunch.

“Will you be eating with me?” a honeyed voice asked, and my attention snapped to them.

Yue was gazing at me with her doe-like eyes, smiling colourfully despite the tiny yawn that escaped. Her eyes were a bit swollen, still in need of some extra rest, but regardless, her head nestled itself in my chest.

“Good morning, love.” I purred into her hair, placing a deep kiss on her forehead. My voice was raspy and dry, hugging her tight.

"Good morning~" she happily sighed, squirming in her spot.

I mused at the action, surprised she could even move after last night, letting my touch wander down her back. I can’t help it, loving the shivers that would run down her spine as I let my fingers caress her skin, ghosting.

Arching in my touch, a blissful expression on her face, “You’re insatiable.”

I let out a laugh, snorting in disbelief, “Me? Oh no, love. You’re the needy one.”

“Says the man who is trying to seduce me first thing in the morning.”

“I’m merely appreciating what’s mine. Is that so wrong, my love?”

Yue shook her head with a laugh. Perching herself on her elbows under my arm, as she rose a brow. “Does that mean I can appreciate what’s mine too?”

She’s gotten so much bolder, outspoken- I love it.

At heart, she was still the well-natured woman I fell in love with. Blushing at a mere peck and eager to please, but there was this air of confidence around her. Speaking her mind, asking questions, this push and pull dance we would find ourselves in.

Not afraid to challenge me, throwing me in a whirlwind because I never knew when she would decide to banter back, or when she’ll blow a kiss, anymore. Her playful qualities were shining brightly, a breath of fresh air that not only I needed, but the Kingdom.

Growth. That’s what I was seeing, and I couldn’t be prouder of her.

A lazy smirk, licking my lips as teasingly hummed, “I won’t be against it.”

“You did promise me I wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow morning...and I think I can still walk.” She challenged, and that was all that was needed for me to steal a kiss.

Yue tumbling over my figure, our chests pressed together as I held her hips over the warm blankets. Her moans, eyes fluttering shut as our lips moved. Everything, from her straddling over my waist to Yue running her fingers through my hair, felt natural.

Unable to stop my groans of satisfaction, kisses growing rougher as the heat between us grew.

“Zuko-” Yue moaned, rolling her hips, and both of us parted ways with bliss.

I can’t get enough. My hand was tangling in her hair, guiding Yue’s head back so I could place kisses down her neck. Tongue drawing, her pulse racing as she sucked in a breath with every lap-

Yue jumped.

The knocking on the door, so bloody loud, Yue squealed. Tumbling off my body as she hogged the blankets as a barrier of modesty. What the actual-

“Fire Lord Zuko, this is urgent.” The person from the other side of the bedroom shouted, knocking insistently, not stopping for a moment. I hissed under my breath, looking over Yue’s figure to make sure she was covered.

“Zuko, what’s going on-”

“I don’t know, love- enter!” I commanded, and the doors flung open not a second later.

Their brown eyes lined with mine, not even considering the less than the questionable scene before them as the guard stood tall. He gave a curt bow, apologizing promptly, as he removed his helmet, tucking it under his arm.

“Your presence, Lord Zuko, is needed immediately.”

“What for?” I questioned, sitting upright as I frowned, and the guard swallowed, “I think you should see for yourself.”

Let the spirits have mercy over my soul- “I’ll be there in a minute.”

“We’ll be waiting in the study.” He spoke before rushing out of the room. I was tempted to think it was because he did piece together what was about to transpire between Yue and me, but I shook my head.

Something...something is going on-

“Zuko?” Yue quietly expressed, her hand resting on my shoulder while she carefully studied my face. I forced a smile, “Don’t worry, love.”

“Let me help you get dressed-”

“Don’t you have a tea date with my mother and Kiyi before lunch?” I rose, and Yue gasped.

“Oh my gosh, I completely forgot, damnit!” Yue panicked.

I had to chuckle, throwing the blanket off my body, not caring that we were both currently naked as can be. But Yue hugged the sheet close to her chest, her cheeks turning red, seeing me unconcealed as I stood up.

“I thought you wanted to appreciate.” I bothered before walking over to our closet, grabbing the nearest article I could find.

I didn’t even have to have my eyes settled over her to hear Yue’s pout. Yue’s blush intensifying in colour as her blanket-covered body entered the closet behind me. “I hate you,” Yue grumbled, and I grinned.

I slipped the soft fabric over my arms, the golden sash neatly folded on the rack for me to tie around my waist. I would not bother with the redundant Fire Nation emblem in my hair because it seemed an unnecessary waste of time, recalling the serious expression on the guard.

This was urgent. But what could it be? News of Yakone, Azula- is Aang in some sort of trouble?

“Zuko,” Yue spoke, pulling me from my thoughts as I pinned my hair back thoughtlessly.

I had been rushing through the motions, lost in my ideas, recklessly walking to the bathroom to wash. Yue’s body was still draped with the sheets from the bed, studying me the whole time.

Her fingers toyed with the fabric around her figure; her hair brushed behind her ears. It gave a clear view of the markings that ran down her chest, her expression soft. “I’ll be the gardens, with your Mother...and if you need me, at any time...you know where to find me. I’ll be there.”

A smile of comfort as she leaned against the bathroom frame.

Her head titled, resting, as she followed my actions of putting down my toothbrush onto the marble. She has my back. A shoulder to lean on. Her way of offering help without being pushy.

“Lunch, it’s a date,” I promised, and I could see Yue’s eyes shine.

“I love you, Zuko.”

“Love you too, babe.”

“I’ll let you get going now-” Yue said as she let herself bounce off the frame before she added, “And try not to yell at the councilmembers again. I swear, they were going to burst into tears after they left your office last time.”

I had to laugh, her hips swaying as she tiptoed out. The ends of the sheet trailing behind her like a gown. It’s not like she doesn’t look gorgeous wearing it, making even a plain dress look rich.

With a look in the mirror, I saw myself.

For someone who was rushing, I had to admit, I didn’t look half bad. While my outfit was more modest than usual, I didn’t have much time for the fantastic, nor was I in the mood. The dark red robe with a low neckline, the golden embroidering was adding a touch of ‘regal.’

It’ll suffice.

I stepped out of the bathroom, hearing Yue shuffling through the closet for a dress to wear. A final goodbye, my eyes catching a glimpse of her pulling a striking red gown. It was decorated with golden flowers, a dress that would hug her body sinfully. She’s going to be the death of me, my hands fiddling with the handle- I opened the door.

My gut dropped.

Taking in a sharp inhale, moving intuitively, like a madman. My hands clutched the doorknob from behind, shutting it with a thunderous slam that shook the Kingdom. A red scarf illuminated by the sunlight right in my line of sight, like a fire. What is he-

“Mihir?” I choked, and it was then everyone realized I made my exit. The usual formalities, bowing and greeting were nowhere to be found because Mihir stormed forward.

His gloved hands swept upwards, tearing the scarf down and under his chin with haste. His rough actions caused the scarf to loosen around his neck, resting over his shoulders like a shawl, but he didn’t seem to care in the slightest.

Mihir’s eyes were intense, lips fixed as his appearance seemed pale. With a deep inhale, his words so light, like he couldn’t believe what he was saying himself, “He’s here.”

No fucking way-

“Axe?” I asserted, my head spinning at the news, “He’s here. In the kingdom, right now?”

“And he almost escaped twice. Injured one of the guards.”

“Bloody fuck-” I hissed, hands falling over my face.

We can’t do this here, in front of the bedroom. Yue can probably hear all of the commotion, the door slamming- I stepped, nudging my head forward. A silent signal for everyone to get moving, now.

Keeping pace with my strides, we practically ran to my study. Mihir whisper shouting as we raced, “We agreed on today.”

The workers of the kingdom all pressed themselves against the walls, unable to utter a greeting as they watched with a twist of curiosity and fear. A group of guards, following behind us as we moved with a purpose. Our steps sounded heavy as we marched, the hallways feeling much too small to house such a group of people.

I frowned, “You’re right, but a warning would’ve been nice.”

“Not being burned alive would be nice too.” Mihir sarcastically responded, and I glared, “He’s not a happy man, Zuko. The moment he sees you-”

“I’ll handle it,” I said with force, annoyed at the constant reminder that Axe was less than happy to see my face. I get it; he hates me. Like everyone else who seemed to meet me for the first time.

The study doors coming into view, more guards posted before the room, and I swore. As if the guards that trailed us weren’t enough. They’re treating Axe like a criminal, the opposite of what I had wanted. Like trapping a wild animal in a cage, he’s going to lash.

The guards welcomed our presence, eyes shifting between Mihir and me.

“Let me go in by myself.” I started, and Mihir shook his head, “With all due respect, Lord Zuko, he’s dangerous. He’s a trained killer; you are his number one target.”

“He’s not going to listen if we all go in.” I reasoned, remembering every single political meeting I had to attend.

Iroh and Aang, while they were light-hearted in nature, knew how to work with people for a reason. Gauge and react, make the person feel comfortable and safe, bring their guard down. My hands balled into fists, standing tall.

This was the moment of truth; there was no going back. I’m going to make things right how things should have always been.

“I’m going in,” I declared, stepping foot inside the room, confused as I couldn’t see a single person. It’s empty-

A chain pressed against my neck, my body jerking backwards as I found myself crushed against someone else.

I choked, eyes widening, as I fought the urge to react. Extinguishing the flames that rose from my palms, the guards rushing inside with their weapons.

I heard the rumours that meeting the dad of your partner was always nerve-wracking. That was their child. An overprotectiveness because they wanted the best for them and not someone who will leave them heartbroken.

But I think I take the cake for the best greeting with my future wife’s father, currently in a chokehold with a rapidly heating chain around my neck. Yue’s father, locking me in a defensive trap, could kill me in a second.

Everything was happening so fast, feeling the overwhelming heat around me as flames were ready to burst, and I shouted desperately, “Halt!”

An act of mercy.

Palms open, arms in the air, ignoring the painful burn as I struggled to breathe underneath Axe’s death grip.

Everyone stilled, smoke filling the room as every person restricted their bending. “Lord Zuko-” Mihir warned out of fear, but I shook my head, “Leave us. It’s an order.”

The pressure around my throat slightly lifted hearing my strange request, but I didn’t move an inch. Taking a deep breath as the struggle alleviated. I need to get this situation under control. I can’t do that with them around.

I could see the conflict in everyone’s eyes.

My order, a contraction to the training that was drilled in their minds from day one. Their job was to protect me, and yet here they were, regrettably shuffling their way to the door, leaving me behind with a man who could kill me in a snap.

The last thing I saw from my side view was Mihir’s stone-cold eyes, glaring at Axe, wishing he could stay behind. And all I could do was let my body ease in Axe’s grip, trying my best to assure everyone I was going to be okay.

I hope I did the right thing.

The tension in the room was thick as if there were a dozen people inside, but there was only us.

Axe and I, alone.

Our breathing was filling the void of the lack of noise, as everything I had thought beforehand, things I wanted to say, left me. This was Yue’s dad. I found him-

“Bold of you to dismiss them,” he rustled in my ear. And for some odd reason, hearing Axe speak for the first time, regardless if it was a veiled threat, was the best thing in the world cause it meant he was alive.

“Some would say stupid.” I mused, replying to Axe’s comment. And, somehow, as I could do with Yue, I just knew the corner of Axe’s lips curved upwards at my self-deprecating joke.

“I feel a bit sad to kill a fool.” Axe insulted, and I bit my tongue.

His voice was deep and hoarse. Axe’s tone alone telling a million stories of the pain and suffering he has endured all these years. Yue comparing people to books, and his book would consist of multiple volumes filled with grief.

But hidden underneath the threats and taunts was a softness that reminded me of Yue. A person who has a good heart, forced into situations that hurt them more than the person they were facing. She really is like her Dad-

“I much rather you don’t kill me, truth be told.”

“And why would I listen to you?” Axe snarled, pulling on the chain to emphasize his point that he could kill me right now. I was stuck between his shackles, with no way out.

With my arms still held high, I let myself be exposed, vulnerable to any force or attack he may unleash. I could see a bit of myself in him, a resentment manifesting into anger. I was lucky to have my friends and family but Axe-

“You sent one of your people to hunt for me. Dragged me back to this disgusting place, and you are holding my daughter hostage as if killing my home; my wife, wasn’t enough.”

“That wasn’t my intention-”

“Then what was it?”

“I wanted to reunite you with Yue.” I snapped, and Axe froze.

It was like his mind short-circuited, and then I realized he probably never heard his daughter’s name in all these years. I was the first to ever talk to him about Yue, an essential part of his past wholly lost.

I let out a long sigh, shutting my eyes, trying to reel in my frustration at the situation, “She told me everything.”

“Lies,” Axe spoke through clenched teeth, but I heard the waver in his voice.

A part of him hoped that she did willingly tell me everything and was not forced. He knew of the tortures the Fire Nation were capable of, probably required to inflict some of them himself. Even my stomach twisted, imagining ever hurting Yue in such a grotesque way.

“I wanted to surprise her. I can prove it.”

“How?”

“In my study, hidden underneath are the documents removing your status.”

He didn’t respond.

Wary, doubtful, and I cursed because I needed to gain his trust, even for a little bit. The pain from the chain around my neck was starting to radiate down my body. At least the heat he had applied to it was gone.

“If you let me go, I will take your chains off.” I reasoned, realizing that Mihir left the keys on the study before us. But Axe was having none of it, “I don’t trust you.”

“And I don’t expect you to, but if you want to see Yue, the proof, you’re going to have to.”

Axe mumbled under his breath, his frame tense as he struggled to make a decision.

“If you want, forget the proof. I’ll take you to your daughter right now.” I nudged, hitting his weakness, despite how manipulative it would be. The tension of the chain loosening by the second as he toyed with the idea I proposed.

But I could sense the reservation in his grip—a final push.

“I promise with my life,” I whispered, and I found myself flung forward.

I struggled to catch my footing, my hands crashing into the study as I took in a deep breath. The burn around my throat, my hand was rubbing the spot. I could feel the skin raised, irritated and red.

Before I could get comfortable, a heated hand fell over my shoulder. Fingers were digging into my arm, shackles slapping my back as I found myself yanked upwards.

Twisting, jaw-dropping, as my eyes widen. S-she looks just like him-

Honey-coloured eyes that seemed to shine in the sun. A warmth in them despite the death threats, he muttered. His hair, salt and pepper, was messy and uncombed. A few strands were tumbling over his face, just like how I found myself combing Yue’s hair in the morning, tucking it behind her ears.

But the kicker?

He was biting his dry lips as he stared down at me, and I laughed. Axe was staring at me in confusion, thinking I’m an absolute madman, but holy fuck- Yue’s habit of nibbling on her lips came from him.

“She looks just like you.” I held, not realizing I spoke what was on my mind, such a Yue thing to do and Axe stilled, “Don’t talk about her like you know her.”

“But I do.” I shoved, thrusting his frame off myself, grabbing the keys to his shackles.

I let the metal twirl around my fingers, walking over to him. He stood in a defensive stance, his hands balled into fists, despite the chains preventing him from moving as freely as he wished.

With Axe standing a bit away, the sun entering through the large window behind us, I could now take him in in his entirety. His clothes were worn and torn; quick, hand-made patches lingered about as the ends of his pants were frayed. While he had a robust frame, feeling the muscles under his clothing, something was off.

For someone who had me pinned, uttering threats that had me thinking that I was genuinely going to die today, he wasn’t as intimidating as I thought. He looked...sick.

He was barely surviving, most likely eating and drinking scarcely, trying to minimize his presence as much as possible, even at the cost of his health. He was so scared to ruffle a feather, to bring suspicion of his existence in fear of endangering Yue. He would give up his life for her...so that’s what a real father is like.

“Raise your hands,” I said, and Axe wearily listened.

He was letting his stance loosen just a tad as he shoved his hands forward. His skin was filthy, littered with scars and dried blood. He really did put up a fight, and I sighed, “I’ll let the nurses look after you-”

“I want to see my daughter, now.” Axe insisted.

That waver in his voice present once again. He’s so desperate to see Yue, and I swallowed, thinking of what Yue would do to reassure someone.

‘Smile. It’s the key to unlocking hearts.’ I shook my head, bewildered that Iroh’s infamous quote popped into my mind, but-

While I wasn’t trying to romance Yue’s father, that’s for sure, a smile...it really can do wonders. It’s the reason why I ended up with Yue. Why I can sleep at peace every night because I know she’ll be by my side in the morning.

The chains dropped onto the floor with a loud thud; I looked up at Axe, offering him a smile that I often gave Yue, “Let’s go see her.”

“You’re going to let me walk free like this?” Axe questioned, shaking his arms to emphasize his point. Suspicion laced with his words, and I shrugged, denying him much of a reaction, seeming unbothered, “Why would I not? You’re a free man who I didn’t hunt after but searched.”

Axe glared, and I huffed regrettably. I couldn’t help it, resisting the urge to fight back against Axe’s headstrong attitude. A good impression, Zuko.

Don’t rock the boat.

My hand rested against the study door; I knew the guards would be waiting outside, their ears glued to the other side, listening for a call of distress. Please don’t attack him- Signalling to Axe to follow because I will hold my promise.

The creaking as I gradually opened the door, intentionally letting my head peek out as the guards sprang when their eyes settled over me. I scowled, shaking my head as my hand inconspicuously waved them off. Damnit-

“Leave.” I whispered harshly, and Mihir looked at me astonished, “You’re alive-”

“I’m bringing him to Yue,” I spoke, ignoring his comment, as Axe stepped out of the room.

Whether or not he heard me speaking, I was unsure because he seemed far more fascinated by the world outside those study doors. His eyes twinkling as a spark of curiosity filled him.

Axe’s golden eyes were scanning the walls, staring at the decorations that filled the palace. He even sniffed the air, smelling the flowers and food, the scents sneaking their way inside from the open windows.

He looked confused and shocked, and that’s when it clicked.

“It’s not like what it used to be. I made sure of that.” I quietly commented as I began walking down the hallway. I didn’t have to look over my shoulder to know Axe was following me, keeping his distance as I heard his slow steps tentatively follow.

The last time he was here, roaming the halls with authority and status, was during the war. Sneaking information in and out of the kingdom and feeding said information to the Earth Nation in hopes of protecting the innocent. He and his wife were selfless.

This was my only chance.

Whether or not he believes was not up to me, but I needed to make this clear.

“Yue’s not here unwillingly...I can promise you that.”

He didn’t respond. Why would he? Two of the most emotionally closed people walking awkwardly down a hallway sounds like a great plan.

Think Zuko, think. What would Aang or Katara do-

“We met at the Southern Water Tribe; Avatar Aang really was the matchmaker.” I awkwardly mumbled, never hating the act of small talk as much I did now.

To my horror and delight, I got a response.

“The Avatar?” Axe exclaimed, and I looked over my shoulder, shock written on his face.

But just as quickly, he bit his tongue, regretting showing so much emotion. I smiled, nodding as we walked down the hallway—that hint of vulnerability showing gradually. I was making progress.

I could recognize the garden doors up ahead, the royal families walking in and out from their afternoon tea, ready to clean up for lunch. If that’s the case, Yue may be by herself or just saying her goodbyes-

I kept an eye on Axe, trying to remain at ease despite the jumbled thoughts.

The further we walked, the less tense he was, and I patted myself on the back because it was working. This whole, being friendly and in tune with emotions, something I was struggling with since the day I was born, I somewhat succeed.

Axe’s shoulders were easing, letting his hands sway by his side as he looked at every window, staring into the gardens. He suspects Yue would be outside if I were truthful, still remembering her joys and habits. Certain desperation in his eyes as his fingers twitched.

“Yue is best friends with the Avatar. He invited me to visit, and that’s when I met her…I guess you could say it was love at first sight.”

“...I don’t believe you.” Axe stubbornly grumbled, crossing his arms, and I shrugged because the doors were before us, “Don’t take my word for it. See for yourself.”

I stood aside, stilling as Axe stared through the glass doors.

The waterfall Toph and Suki built was magnificent, children feeding the turtle ducks along the shore. It was what most people would say was the highlight of the garden. All the paths lined with blossoming flowers, leading back to it.

The trees were swaying, blossoms fluttering with the wind and littering the green grass. Spotting the flower underneath one of them, the one we planted for Kayto.

But in my opinion, the true highlight of the garden was Yue. It took mere seconds to spot her; she just has this magnetic pull that had everyone’s attention drawn to her.

Leaning over Kiyi, her red dress glistened under the sun. That halo-like effect from the other day was magically appearing, nature itself knowing she was the real star of the gardens.

She wore her infamous sweet smile on her face the whole time. The type of smile that reached your eyes, and even when your cheeks hurt, you can’t stop because you’re just so damn happy.

If you listened closely, you could hear them laughing as Yue pinched Kiyi’s cheeks.

Mother playfully patting Kiyi away before reaching for Yue with an enormous hug, planting a kiss on her forehead. A loving embrace, Yue shyly letting Mother brush her baby hairs out of her face and tucking them behind her ears. They were chatting, saying their goodbyes as I noticed the servants cleared the tea tables.

Would Axe be able to spot her as easily as I? It has been years since they’ve last seen each other. I frowned, unsure of what to do.

Awkwardly I rose my hand, looking over at him to point-

“She’s okay.” He broke.

Silent tears were running down his face, seeing his daughter for the first time in years.

His whole demeanour and expression shifted, nothing like the man who was just in my office. He looked relieved. As if the weight of the world was lifted off his shoulders, and he realized how tired he was.

Axe’s eyes glossy, taking deep breaths, trying to compose himself, but he couldn’t. He stayed glued to his spot, watching Yue waving at our family as she twirled in her dress.

“Axe…” I softly spoke, unsure of what to say or do. He was so overwhelmed, struggling to process what was right before his eyes.

“I’ve dreamt of this day. To see her.” Axe whispered with disbelief. As if he couldn’t fathom that Yue was right in front of him.

Free to hug, to love once again.

“You can go to her, you know.” I encouraged, my hand leading the way to the glass doors that separated them. And Axe turned to look at me, wiping a tear away with his torn sleeve.

“No.”

“What-”

“I can’t.” Axe gasped as he looked back at Yue.

All this work and he doesn’t want to see his daughter? Were the tears even real? Genuine tears of loss over seeing his daughter once again? A bubble of anger rising in me, clicking my tongue in annoyance. How can he do that, say that-

“What do you mean no.” I hissed, stepping before him, cutting his view of Yue.

Axe looked taken aback, not understanding my anger as I puffed, “That’s your daughter. How much she’s suffered, missed you, for all these years. And you say no.”

“Look at me!” Axe shouted, shaking his clothing, dust and dirt falling onto the ground around us. I found myself silencing, realizing what was going on.

He’s embarrassed.

He doesn’t want Yue to see him like how he is. Compared to all the royals, even the workers, he stuck out like a sore thumb. Stubble framing his jaw as Axe ran a hand through his dishevelled locks. His face screamed of shame, not wanting to be seen or acknowledged of who he once was.

“She won’t recognize me; nobody does.” Axe told, fatigue laced in his tone, “I’m old, and I’m dirty-”

“Me and you both know. Yue isn’t like that.” I interrupted, staring at him in the eyes, “She just wants her dad back...please.”

Never have I begged, but at this moment, I put my pride to the side, letting Axe get one good look at her one more time.

Yue was plucking flowers, most likely to decorate our bedroom, utterly oblivious to us watching. I could see the want in Axe’s eyes, so badly wanting to run to her. To hug her and let her know how he missed her.

It was a risk.

A considerable risk, but for Yue. I’d do anything.

I placed my hand on his back, Axe jumping at the contact as I felt his heavy breathing. A push-

“I promise she won’t hate or think differently of you.”

“How are you so sure?”

“I’ve kept all my promises up till now, haven’t I?”

His steps were shaky, hands trembling by his side as he nervously patted down his clothing. It was happening. No ifs, ands, or buts, Yue was getting her Dad back.

With an encouraging nod, I lead the way, carefully opening the garden door.

The sun kissing our skin, both Axe and I took a nervous inhale. Our surroundings were lost to us, tunnel vision upon Yue as I waved to towards her.

There was no going back now, Axe shaking beside me as I called her out.

“Love.”

Yue perked right away at the sound of my voice.

She was turning on her heel, standing upright from picking the red and yellow flowers. Her hands were folded in front of her, holding the bundle by the stems by her waist, spotting my figure.

“Zuko~!” she cherried, skipping towards me, not noticing Axe beside me right away. But her cheerful skips began to slow, her pace reducing in speed rapidly before coming to a full-blown stop.

I saw her expression flatter, tilting her head as she looked at Axe with confusion. Her eyes were round, tearing, as she bit her lip, doubt eating her alive. Yue brought a hand to her eyes, rubbing them furiously, unable to accept what she was seeing.

Her bottom lip was quivering, the bundle of flowers shaking as I could hear her take a deep inhale.

“I-I’m sorry-” Yue started, wiping away a tear from her eyes as she spoke, our figures getting closer. But her eyes were locked on Axe, struggling to keep her composure. “Y-you just reminded me of someone...someone I lost a long time ago.” Yue cried, trying to swallow back her whimpers as her cheeks turned red.

She was getting flustered, embarrassed for making such a scene, thinking she had mistaken a guest for someone else.

And Axe laughed, shaking his head, not waiting for my slow pace but rushing forward to Yue.

The bundle of flowers that were in Yue’s grasp dropped to the ground, a sob coming from her as she threw her arms around his neck, tears pouring down their faces because he finally said it, “Button, it’s me.”

Disclaimer: I do not own any Avatar characters portrayed in this story besides Ying Yue Jiang, Lia, Kima, and any future creations.

❤ Buy me a coffee? ❤

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batgirlsay · 2 years ago

Text

Cold Like Winter

Vampire AU Playlist for Obiyuki AU Bingo 2022 by @snowwhite-andtheknight

I used this AU as an excuse to make another Obi fall/winter themed playlist…

Started rearranging some fall/Halloween themed playlists and ended up with a story where vampire Obi falls for Shirayuki and has a lot of doubts about them being together. Eventually, after sharing his feelings, Shirayuki becomes the “final girl” and thinks about becoming a vampire too. The Anthony Green and Matt Pond songs fit perfectly for this theme!

East Coast Winters- Anthony Green You’re So Dead Meat- Anthony Green Your Ghost- The Decemberists Ghosting- Mother Mother The Haunting- Anberlin Halloween- Matt Pond PA Last Light- Matt Pond PA Final Girl- Chvrches

Summary lyrics are cited after the bonus vampire obi!

East Coast Winters- Anthony Green

Anyone who walks down my path after it snows Will cover up their footprints

Anyone who walks through my door is already done for And if you walk a mile in my shoes, you'd never choose You'd never come back here

As far as I can tell, you never got it right And everyone I know is all but turned away Scattered in the dark

You’re So Dead Meat- Anthony Green

Faces of doubt Haunted by the memories of everything minus the bad stuff

Sorrow and all Don't tell me if you care, come alive with it, let it show And don't wistfully believe I would die for it

Your Ghost- The Decemberists

Along the old seawall Inside the banquet hall Below the cellar stair Maybe you'll find me there Your ghost

And at your final end When you are free again No longer long to be You will belong to me

Ghosting- Mother Mother

I've been ghosting, I've been ghosting along Ghost in your house, ghost in your arms When you're tossing, when you turn in your sleep It's because I'm ghosting your dreams

And this is why I have decided To pull these old white sheets from my head I'll leave them folded neat and tidy So that you'll know I'm out of hiding

I remember, I remember the days When I'd make you oh-so afraid

I will be kind and I'll be sweet If you stop staring straight through me

And this is why I have decided To leave your house and home unhaunted You don't need poltergeist for sidekicks You don't need treats and you don't need tricks

The Haunting- Anberlin

Up on this hill, in this uncanny house The wind makes this place creak, the lights they are flickering The moon she is lurking, the clock it stopped working At a quarter past three

There's something dancing here in the shadows And I wish it were us

You haunt me baby, you haunt me here tonight

Can't get your memory, off of my mind Just want your heartbeat, on top of mine

Up on this hill, in this uncanny house Your spirit I can't see, but I still believe I can feel your breath on me

Halloween- Matt Pond PA

Went to where the people were on a Saturday night Seems like it always seems Where I go, I want to leave

I surprised myself as my mouth started speaking There is nothing left of my nerves As I lean over to ask her Pardon the intrusion Could we leave before it gets bad?

Last Light- Matt Pond PA

Night comes in and takes our light As we turn once again in the sun We don't have to drift out of sight But shadows will fall and run

Green turns gold and the gold turns green As we turn one more time past the sun Light like no one else has seen As the shadows will shift to none Yeah, they'll run, they will run, they will run As the day's last light soon is done

You thought it was your time To give into the endless night No, you were not right

Sky hangs heavy in the lowest light As the day slips down past the sun Black and blue in the forest green Shadows are gone, they have run

I can feel your hand let go of mine Drift you to where there isn't any light And I can never sleep enough, that's right Something makes me nervous 'bout the night

Final Girl- Chvrches

Keeping secrets until everything became a bit too loud

And it feels like the weight is too much to carry I should quit, maybe go get married Only time will tell

Don't want to find your daughter in a body bag So I need to get out now while most of me is still intact

In the final cut In the final scene There's a final girl Does she look like me?

#obiyukibingo22 #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #obiyuki #playlist #lyrics #anthony green #the decemberists #mother mother #anberlin #matt pond pa #chvrches #bonus vampire obi is from that scene where he tells a scary story to zen lol #all of my obi playlists end the same way

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abizarreyodelingincident · 4 years ago

Text

Our Nightly Confidant 7

Send your prayers to the Sky

With a vast array of different quests and experiences, it was no surprise that between the nine of them, the Links could cover most essential skills. For example, if you needed a tactician, look no further than Warriors. If you had to solve some puzzles, Legend had seen them all. If you got stuck out at sea (a very unfortunate experience for Twilight, who discovered that day his lack of sea legs), Wind would be happy to talk your ears off about sailing.

But if one needs a partner for a one-on-one fight, then Sky is the hero you'll need.

For proof, look no further than the deformed lizard and giant eye corpses they've left behind them. After the third such ambush in a day, one might decide to change their tactics. Those monsters, untouched by whatever corruption is plaguing their current quests, don't. They simply come in waves and waves, as unthinking as they are exhausting.

Twilight, wiping his brows, hears a faint chime, though he can't identify its origins.

Sky's face changes. From relieved to worried, brows drawn together and his eyes scanning the horizon for one sign or another.

“What is it?”

“Fi, the spirit of the Master Sword... she advises us to find shelter for the night. She says there are high probabilities that monsters lurk nearby.”

No shit, Twilight thinks. Ever since the portal spat them out away from the rest of the group, the two of them have been fighting constantly to make any sort of progress. He regrets not having told Sky his secret earlier. They might have gotten a better deal if Wolfie had detected the attacks early or led them back to the others.

“Can she tell where the portals threw our companions?”

Again, the chime rings, and the Master Sword almost seems to pulse in sync with it.

“She senses the existence of a few other sacred weapons, but they're too far away for her to tell me more.”

Twilight glares at the red sun lowering itself over the hills. “We'll try and find them tomorrow then. No time to lose. I think I saw some house westward before the ambush.”

***

It wasn't a town.

Broken houses lay here and there across some rock hard dirt road. Shutters hang limply from open windows. Tombstones litter one corner of the hidden vale, most broken or too weathered by elements for the epitaphs to remain. There are hints of small gardens behind collapsed walls of stone. Upturned soil in little rows. Both of them know the traces left by harvesting.

It's no town anymore. There's not a soul left.

The sign, somehow, had survived whatever cataclysm had struck here. For all the good it did. Sky can't read it, and Twilight... it looks vaguely familiar, he said. Not enough to hazard a guess about it.

Sky resolves to ask Hyrule about it. He's aware it's probably a futile and maybe even cruel thing to do, but... he has to. He isn't certain yet, why the idea weighs so much on his mind. A nameless town, a place that should have been home to dozens, maybe hundreds of Hylians, gone and forgotten.

His mind turns back to the first time he mentioned Skyloft to the other heroes. The way his heart squeezed when he realized that none of them had ever heard of it, that the closest he ever got to news of his hometown was a nomadic tribe of sky people from Four and, after an apologetic grimace from Twilight, a ruined city in the sky.

For so long, Sky had lived with the notion of Skyloft being the only town in the world. The essence of the world of Hylians, distilled and preserved by the kindness of Hylia. His adventures on the surface had stripped him of the notion, but not the tenderness and longing he felt for his home above the clouds. How could he, when half his soul is bonded to a sacred bird?

Hyrule should not be a kingdom of ghost towns and miles spread graveyards. That sight alone had brought tears to his eyes. Nothing had ever made him doubt his and Zelda's dream of founding Hyrule together before that.

“Sky!” rings Twilight's cry, and he wastes no time, spinning with Fi in hand.

He slices the air in a flawless, textbook motion, and the strange red keese fell in two distinct halves before disintegrating.

Twilight rushes to him, placing a grounding palm on top of his shoulder. “You okay, Sky? That thing was diving straight at you.”

He fights the growing weight of the Master Sword in his grip. The out-of-body feeling. His chest pangs with pulses of heat, with a loathing turned inward. He shouldn't be a burden this way. Not on top of everything else.

But he can't find the words in front of Twilight's earnest worry. “I, sorry, I guess I was too out of it. Thanks for the warning.”

He gets a pat on the back, strong enough to be a bit startling. “Don't give me a fright like that. Leave it to the Champion.”

Sky chuckles softly. “I'm not usurping his role, I promise. I can't take this much roughhousing.”

The smirk on Twilight's face looks terribly smug. He gives Sky another pat, then marches on through the deserted street. “We'll need to be rested for tomorrow. Best we wake up at first light to get as much time as possible to link up with the others.”

Sky nods, even though the idea of closing his eyes makes him nauseous.

You dreamed of a new kingdom, Zelda. I'm sorry I ruined it before we even started.

***

The dog's barking chased him through the ruins. The others are gone. He can't remember- no, he doesn't want to remember. It's too painful.

“Lucky you,” Legend's voice rings behind the crumbled remains of some statue. There's no one there. “Must be nice to have a choice.”

“That wasn't-” he tries to say, but the barking swallows his words. They are close. So close.

For all his Courage, he knows he stands no chance. He can't even lift his sword. Fi looked at him and, coldly, without ever speaking louder than a dull monotone, told him he was no longer fit to wield her. There was a zero percent chance he would ever prove his worthiness again.

He has to step over the bodies. So young. Too young. One's missing an eye, an accusation forever etched into the blank gaze. His apologies are sobbed. He knows. He knows. They tell him to stay. To die. To atone.

But somehow, he stumbles forward up the steps to the Temple of Time. He knows that the place is safe. That it must be. It's the only thing that keeps him going.

The doors slam right behind him. And he breathes out a sigh of relief, walking into the moonlit shadow of Hylia's statue. Despite everything, the pain, the grief, the despair, he musters a smile for the benevolent face looking over him. “Thank you, Hylia.”

“Hylia? Who's that?” Wind asked, scouting closer. “Some woman you know?”

“The Goddess Hylia? Protector of Hyrule and the Triforce?”

The doors rattle. Again. The barking is muffled.

“Never heard of her,” Wind said. “All that's left of Hyrule lies beneath the Great Sea. Why didn't you stab Demise in the head? That's what I did. They can't speak with a sword in their brain, you stupid scallywag.”

Sky reached out, but his little brother was suddenly too far, miles away, and he couldn't run fast enough to catch up. He never could. Always one step behind. Always too slow for when it matters. Even when it came to killing his enemy. He doesn't save, he just deals with the clean-up.

Or leaves it to his descendants and reincarnations.

The doors are threatening to come off their hinges. At every hit, he sees the gap between them widen a little more. He sees glimpses of fangs. Of blue eyes staring. Of drool splattering when dark muzzles try to push through.

“I had so many hopes for you.”

He bolts upright, a strangled scream on his lips, Fi raised to strike.

For a moment, Sky doesn't move. His mind is slow to catch up. It notices the darkness first. The faint flicker of the near dead fire they lit up earlier. The soft, weakened planks under him.

There is no temple. No goddess. No-, wait, there is a wolf.

Sky blinks a few times, hands rubbing at his eyes. Right. The ghost town. Him and Twilight. He... where is his brother?

“Why are you...?” Sky starts, before letting out a sigh. Does that truly matter? “Say, Wolfie, how do you keep finding us?”

The wolf grunts, his ears folded back on top of his head. He proceeds to take a step backward.

Sky's sigh is gentle, soft. The same way he ran his fingers through the fur on Wolfie's head, behind his ears. He doesn't want to spook his friend.

“I know you can't exactly tell me the answer to that,” Sky says, his smile idle as his gaze goes back to the shutters. “It's okay if I make up a way, isn't it? I won't tell the others even if I get it right.”

Wistful. That's the emotion inside him. He needs to feel it, he believes. After that nightmare. After... not the memory, but something close to it. What he knows might happen.

His fellow heroes have all suffered so many hardships. He wouldn't blame them if they turned their anger at him. (He'd deserved it.)

A quick lick of a rough tongue brings Sky back to the present, and he forces himself to focus.

“You're no ordinary animal. That mark on your forehead, those soulful blue eyes...” Familiar. A reflection of what he's seen in the others. Heroic. “Hylia sent you.”

The grumble isn't loud enough to be threatening. It's actually more in line with the noise Legend makes in the morning or when Warriors is rejected in a tavern.

“A sacred beast to guide us heroes on our journey.”

The screams of his nightmare ring back through his memories. The accusations. The hate on the face of his brothers.

His smile starts to slide off.

“An envoy, to help lessen the aftermaths of my mistake... maybe...” he chokes out.

The sacred beast – he knows in his heart – lets out a quiet whine, and buries his muzzle against Sky's shoulder. Sky's arms latch onto Wolfie's fur as if it were a loftwing's reins. He is in freefall.

“Wolfie... I know I'm supposed to be a Hero of Courage, but... how do I tell them?” The corner of his eyes burn. Wolfie's face blurs, then clears when Sky blinks. “They've all overcome such odds, so many trials, and they... they wouldn't have had to, if I hadn't failed.”

The way he expects Wolfie to react ranges from a betrayed yip, to a silent embrace to even a sudden mauling.

A flat look wasn't one of them. It oozes skepticism and Sky's emotional outburst sputters like he had been making a stormcloud out of a nimbus. Do... do wolves really do that? That wasn't what he had in mind talking about how this wolf friend is special.

“I... ”

“Woof?” Wolfie woofs, annoyed.

“On my journey, I faced off against Demise, the demon god. A cruel being imprisoned for millennia before his subordinates managed to free him. I... I fought him. I dove through a portal and brandished the Master Sword and killed him. But... with his dying words, he cursed me. Us. The ones with the Hero's Spirit and the blood of the Goddess. There would always be an incarnation of his hatred to destroy everything they sought to build.” – The growl is steadily growing in intensity. – “I should have stopped him. It's me. My fault, Wolfie.”

That's when the shutters on the window rattle.

Sky is on his feet, sword drawn, even faster than Wolfie is. That, he later realized, is the problem. Fi might have brushed against his friend's fur. Not with the edge, never, but he had not thought the flat of the blade might have been a cause of concern. A blessed weapon wouldn't harm a sacred beast, right?

Shadows swallow Wolfie, who lets out a startled yelp, before out of the cocoon of darkness emerges a scowling Hylian.

“Twilight?!” he gasps, a whisper-shout that feels like his chest would explode. Twilight is Wolfie. Oh, Hylia, Twilight is Wolfie. He... he told...

This can't be real. His head spins. Oh Hylia. He needs to brace himself. To stand. (To run.)

The shutters swing open.

“Goshess darn it,” Twilight spits.

He makes a grab for something under his armor – what, Sky couldn't see – and the shadows return, swiftly giving his brother the form of the companion beast that they assumed was stalking their progress throughout the eras.

Wolfie (Twilight) barks at the open window, and the darkness of the night. The flutter of a moonless breeze.

Sky, despite the past few months having just turned on their heads, is alert enough to keep his focus on the threat at hands. What probably helped destroy the town. Those lost Hylians deserve some vengeance. It's too little, but he has to give them that.

There is nothing there.

But Twilight lunges, his fangs glinting in the hearth's light before he latches on something. Sky can only watch in horror as Wolfie-Twilight-brother hangs and scrambles against an invisible enemy, snarling, scratching, biting. He hears the inhuman shriek right as Twilight drops back on the ground, blood splattered over his fur and a fading purple light in his mouth.

Sky waits in tense silence, knuckles tight over the handles of his sword and shield. Beads of sweat roll on his cheeks, his heart hammering.

He doesn't react when Twilight stops and sniffs the air. Doesn't, when the change happens.

Twilight, ever practical, crosses the meager main room in a few strides and forces the shutter shut. Then lift a broken table leg and use it to ram the whole thing locked, or as good as it got in these circumstances.

When he is done, Twilight does not turn back right away. He lingers about the window, his shoulders tense and the wolf pelt (how had they not made the connection?) ripples in the low light when he lets out a defeated sigh.

“I shifted the first time because I thought I'd heard something, and my senses are much sharper as a wolf. I... I didn't mean...”

To trick you, Sky completes the thought. And it's unfair, cruel, but – despite his failure – he still thinks it (like he has the right to).

“You heard. About how I cursed the lineage.”

“I heard that you killed a demon god for what he threatened to do to your world, to your Zelda.”

“Twilight... I'm sorry,” Sky pleads, his throat hoarse. “I'm sorry! I know it'll never weigh enough for what my failure did to you and the others, but I'm so, so sorry, Twilight. If I hadn't... if I had just... Demise would have never had the chance to curse Hyrule.”

“And yet, with that 'chance', he went about it in the worst possible way. I know he predates the Triforce an' all, but that guy sure was no champion of Nayru.”

Sky's self-loathing melts into a slosh of confusion. “I... I don't...”

Twilight, strangely, is not winding up a punch or a kick or even a swipe of his sword. He's walking up to him. Sliding next to him, and, with an arm around his shoulder, getting them both sitting by the hearth.

“Think about it,” Twilight replies with a small smirk. “Coulda forced his reincarnation at any point he wanted, but he went 'fuck it' and made sure that there would always be a Champion of Courage and a Princess of Goddess' Blood around at the same time it showed up.”

Sky... considers. Tries to recall the wording. The exact thing, but he's forgotten half the words. He's spent one too many nights trying not to remember for his memories to cooperate now. He just knows what he felt then, the doubt and horror at war within. How many people might suffer if the curse was real? Had he truly earned his title, his love back, if it had come at the cost of the future?

And if he only knew of Hyrule's broken kingdom, the answer would be easy then.

“What was he like? That Demise guy? Did he give you the speech?”

Sky huffs. “Does trash talking count?”

Twilight's eyebrow game is quite on point there, wagging so fluidly. “Does it ever?”

“He thought me unworthy. Destined to die in a realm of water and storm. He promised the destruction of everything I hold dear, once my corpse lied at his feet.”

“Big talker,” Twilight deadpans. “No wonder he got so pissy about his defeat. Must have been humiliating.”

To his amazement, Sky bites down on a laugh. Demise had been imprisoned before, hadn't he? Who had done the deed the first time around? And if he was such a threat, would they not intervene again if he went too far?

“If it were me... well, not that I'm the revenge-type or anything,” Twilight adds suspiciously quickly, “I'd wait till they were both long gone and just destroy everything they ever built. Render their whole lives pointless. But that's his type, isn't it? Doesn't count if the victim isn't there to see it.”

“Alright. Demise would never be Nayru's favorite, I'll grant you that,” he says, sobering. “It's just... It hurts to hear Time and Legend insult Hylia. She's not...”

Not the one that deserves their blame.

Twilight runs a hand through his hair. “Can't speak for 'em. Much as I'd like to pretend, it ain't my mind and I ain't them as sure as they ain't me. The questing took its toll on their hearts and souls. I don't even want to imagine what Hyrule and Wild's doubts are like.”

Sky knows, though. He's heard Hyrule asking Legend once. He doesn't even understand what faith is meant to be. And, he thinks, gaze to the broken village outside, not without reason. What have the goddesses done for this kingdom that worshipped them?

“But I ain't about all that chosen talk... Chosen.”

Sky snorts. That was so terrible Time would be proud. The old man, somehow, relishes in their agony. The stupider the joke, the better, he said.

“I told you guys it was too pretentious for me.”

Twilight looks back to the flames. “It's too bad for the City Boy that he hasn't gotten that title. Would have flaunted it, the bastard.”

The image is amusing, until it's not.

“Do you think... do you wish it would have been him instead of me? Do you think Warriors could have done it right?”

Twilight stills. Sky sees him clench and unclench his fists a few times, then let out a long exhale. There's a hint of weariness in his gaze. Hard and walled in stone.

“You think your goddess could put up with Fancy’s hair flips? He'd turn her mad after just one of his rants about the standards of beauties of men.”

There's no hesitation. None whatsoever. “Yes. She would. She loves every incarnation of the Hero. Every single one of them. With all her heart.”

Twilight's lips twitch. It could be amusement. Or bitterness.

“Funny thing from a woman I've never met. Ain't ever heard of the gal till... well, Wild. I was grown on the worship of the Golden Trio, personally. Already chosen by Farore before I was found in Ordon. Can't imagine what made her think a two years old was especially brave when lost in the woods, but what I remember of it is just me crying and wondering about and getting stung by mosquitoes the size of my hands.”

Sky's silly bleeding heart cries for the image of a young Twilight, just a toddler with tear tracks on his face, stumbling out of a forest. Burns, then, when his brain reminds him of all the monsters that take residence in the woods of most eras of Hyrule. Stops when he recalls the other important detail: Twilight never found out who his parents were. Not their names, not what they did, not why he had been wandering alone.

Sky grabs his brother's hand and locks gaze with him. “I think you were brave then. Farore knew it too.”

Twilight’s face flushes red. “If... if you say so. But, that wasn't my... Urgh. Back home, I prayed to the Golden Trio because that's what Rusl and Uli did. I thanked Farore for wind on a hot day, Nayru for rain that irrigated the fields and Din for the fire in the hearth during winter. It wasn't much more than that.”

“We... we celebrate Hylia on Skyloft. She is the one that lifted the land in the sky to protect us from an unending war with demons. We have festivals in her name. Coming of Age happens before her most well-known statue. There's not a person in Skyloft that doesn't believe. All my life, I was told to show her gratitude. And I did, even in the pits of that damned temple, with shambling corpses trying to drag me under. Even when things looked lost, I still... I still had faith. I felt her love with me the whole way.”

He pauses, letting out a shuddering breath.

“Did you have that?” he asks in a whisper so quiet he couldn't tell if he was even heard.

Twilight, not helping matters, only glances around the broken furniture, the spilled wardrobe and the rags inside. “I had someone else talking over my shoulder,” Twilight says with a wicked grin. “I wouldn't have called her a goddess though. The impact on her ego that would have had, oh man. The Chosen Hero stuff though? Honestly, I forgot all about that until Princess Zelda mentioned it. Destiny didn't mean much to me then. I didn't even hear of Ganondorf until I was like, past the midway point.”

“He's the curse,” Sky confesses, hanging his head in shame. “He's the one that incarnates Demise's Hatred. You can't tell me that he never affected you. I saw your face the first time I said I never met the man.”

“Oh, yes, him I hate. Nearly killed everyone I loved. Doesn't mean I hate you though.”

“But-!”

“My Ganondorf is the same one the old man stopped. The same person.”

Sky's jaw drops. The same Ganondorf? Not a reincarnation?

He thought... he thought Twilight and Time had lived in different eras. Their bond has always seemed a little special. Older on Twilight's part as well. Like he had known Time before Time could become aware of him. It only made sense if one was the other's successor, but now he ponders. Are they... are they father and son? Had Twilight taken up his sword to finish what Time had been too old to do? He knew Demise's Hatred wasn't truly a man, but he had had the failings of one.

“H-how?”

“The ghosts of sages past pretty much confirmed it. Before my time, Ganondorf was accused of plotting a coup and trying to steal the Triforce from the kingdom of Hyrule. He was eventually arrested and scheduled for execution in the newly built Arbiter's Grounds.”

The name, for a reason he doesn't understand, sends a shiver down his spine.

An odd light glints in Twilight's eyes as he rests his sword over his knees. “But right as they thrust the sword in his chest, Din gave him the Triforce of Power.”

What the fuck, Sky thinks, and he'd chastised himself over such a blasphemous thought, but he can't muster the brainpower to do it. Din. Din of the Golden Trio. One of the Three. Why?

“What the fuck, right?” Twilight smirks, very much aware of Sky's bafflement. “The sages couldn't explain it either. They said... it must have been a divine prank.”

Something searing hot curls into Sky's chest, ugly and dark. His eyes fall on Twilight's form again. On his brother's scars, both on and under his skin. The self-deprecating smirk, growing sad as memories of his adventures must be surfacing. The horrors he saw. The battles he fought. The one he lost. Everything.

A. Prank.

Clarity is burnt into him. He knows, in the moment, what Time and Legend feel. Right down to his bone marrow, bitterness fills his thoughts and heart.

Demise. Demise, he can grasp. He can understand the shape of him and his evils. The motives, lacking as they are, feel so much smaller with that perspective. Petty, based on passion and emotions. Almost like a Hylian. But this? Is betrayal. The Goddesses he was taught were the benevolent makers of the world. The bastion upon which the world rests. Why then, Sky wonders. Why would Din indulge the incarnation of Demise's hatred just as the sages put him down without a struggle?

Why empower evil right as good triumphs?

Do they truly know anything about the gods?

“I don't get it,” Sky says, the only thing he can think to say at all.

Twilight's arm hooks around his neck.

“I don't understand either, and I've decided not to care. Din condemned us, Nayru granted us respite through my queen and Farore...” He looks down to the back of his left hand, where, under the gauntlet, Sky knows the Triforce of Courage lays. “Farore marked me from birth for salvation. I don't know how they work. It sounds almost like a balancing act. Did they each choose separately? Together? And if they didn't, was Din the first one to act or just the one that made the biggest impact? Maybe it was a prank. A big great game between three sisters having fun with their toys.”

The corners of Twilight's mouth lift up an inch, and Sky has the fearful impression that Twilight knows exactly the impact of his words.

“The worst pain I've ever endured... was inflicted on me by Farore, by the way.”

“Twilight! You, what are you even... the fuck?!”

Twilight's hand lands a solid clap on his back, and his snicker is boisterous. “The first time I turned into a wolf, that was due to this.” He rubs the Triforce of Courage on the back of his hand. “But that first change? Like my body had been left to dry during the hot season just in time for a wildfire. I swear to the Goddesses... nothing could ever compare. And that helped, in the face of monsters I'd never seen before.” And Twilight looks up to the ceiling, half caving from rot, and his eyes spark. His voice thrums with an unusual intensity. “No threat of pain ever made me pause. I never missed a beat from fear. I knew, on some deep level, that the worst would always be behind me, and I'd made the source of it my own tool for battle. I'd overcome Farore's test, in some way.”

Sky realizes he is holding in his breath a moment later. That his brother's words cast a spell of silence on this small dilapidated home. There's something empowering to the idea.

He remembers his own adventure a bit differently. He'd found Courage on a path more traveled, he feels. “I didn't have time to be afraid. I was chasing a demon lord after my Zelda. I knew I couldn't be scared of the monsters, because I had to face their master to free the love of my life. So I refused to be.”

And, it's some strange irony that he suddenly sees salvation within reach.

“For the record, Hyrule likes his country,” Twilight muses, like he's sorting through his memories.

Sky feels the burn of shame on his face. He doesn't mean it like an insult! “It wasn't...”

“No, sorry, let me rephrase that. He loves this place. He sees everything wrong with it, and he loves it anyway. He's working on improving it. He'll take the grueling tasks, the down and dirty, and he's gonna keep improving it until the rest of the country sees it the way he does. I say, it's a brave man that walks through broken ruins and still fights for the one wild flower he finds blooming there.”

“Please tell me you told him that,” Sky begs. Because he knows Twilight is Time's protege and Time is a man of few words. It works for them, but Hylia, he hopes...

“Why? It's pretty obvious, isn't it?”

Sky groans.

“Just... tell him, alright.”

Twilight looks a little bemused, but shrugs. “Sure, first thing when we see him tomorrow.”

That's a tempting thought, actually. Just getting it over with. To throw it at them, but that's another form of cowardice. To unload such a weight on people he loves without giving them a proper chance to prepare. He had to do this right. He owed them at least that explanation. If the constant heartaches had a purpose... maybe they'd be easier to bear.

'Why couldn't you just do it right the first time around?' echoes the voices from his nightmare.

Twilight's hand grabs his and squeezes. Concerned. “We can't force them to be reasonable right away, but we can knock their heads on straight.”

Twilight would. Somehow, despite the admiration for Time that Twilight never bothered to hide, Sky is certain that he would indeed slap him upside the head if the situation calls for it. And protecting one of them would definitely be one of those circumstances.

“They can be mad,” he says. “With what Ganondorf wrecked, they-”

“In Wind's time, the Goddesses saw Hyrule burn and doused it with an ocean. Do you think it's better than this era?”

Ravaged by fire. Swallowed by water. One, the act of a demon. The other, that of three goddesses.

He can't tell the difference. He can't tell the difference!

Hylia, Sky's head is spinning. Instinct latches on memories well-loved. Hylia cared. Hylia was one of the lesser divinities. One to guard the Triforce, not grant it. She, who loved the Hero so much, stepped into the world of mortals to forever be with him and help him protect the creation of the Three.

“Sky, I swear I don't resent Time over Ganondorf surviving his era. I don't resent the Twili for not stopping Zant before he could usurp the Twilight Realm. Not the guards that failed to prevent the invasion, not the Light Spirits that couldn't protect the very provinces they were meant to guard. Sky, hate is so hard to live with, I don't want to waste my heart raging about people that never deserved it. And maybe we're all different people, but we share the Hero's Spirit and I know that false blame has no place in it.”

The fire in the hearth sputters and embers are sent flying a few feet. They burn out entirely in midair, and with a sigh, Twilight rises to tear off another leg from an old chair and feed it to the flames. It's a simple, domestic gesture, not unlike the sort of things Sky remembers from Gaepora at the academy, when it was just him and Zelda, just children huddling together under a blanket.

The headmaster would tease them, and Zelda would laugh, unimpressed. She'd claim that it was only right, because she had decided they would be married, and not even Hylia could disapprove.

Even now, he blushes at the memory, his heart light in his chest.

Another log is stirred lazily through the hearth. He can see the headmaster's shadow over Twilight's.

Until he notices that Twilight's lips are moving silently. The words, Sky's unsure, but there's a faint impression of practiced in his brother's body language. Rehearsed. And, he can't quite stop himself from asking.

“... Who are you praying to?”

“Din.”

“Din? You're praying to Din?! Even after all that?!”

Twilight gives him one of those 'I'm-a-simple-man' shrug and Sky has the most troubling, greatest revelations of them all. Twilight is fucking with him.

“The fire's still there, isn't it?”

They might lose a finger to frostbite through the night without the fire. They need it. And there the pieces fit together. The picture of who Twilight is, and the value of being an earnest man. They need the fire, and the flames are there, and that's enough. The Goddesses might drown the world tomorrow, but tonight they allowed the flames to burn, through passion, through logic, through love.

Sky lifts a finger to the clasp that holds Zelda's sail around his neck. Then, deliberately, pulls the cloak of his shoulders to wrap them around both their shoulders.

Twilight blinks in surprise for but a moment, then grins back and shares his own wolf pelt. “Who needs gods, huh?”

Yes, Sky thinks. The fire is still here, but the warmth is all you.

AN: I have *opinions* about this fandom conflating all the Links into Hylia believers and I do not like it. Hylia is a very recent addition to the Zelda lore, and I hate that everyone acts like she's always been there. It's not even needed! There are thousands of years of hystory to go through. The worship of ONE goddess dying out and coming back (with Wild) shouldn't be such an impossibility. And the others meeting Sky and Wild shouldn't be enough to turn all their beliefs on their heads to include Hylia right away and make her the scapegoat for all the issues. Seriously, look at what the Triforce trio did before Hylia's inclusion. Don't they make more interesting figures to wax philosophy about??

OR.

Sky: *dealing with Hero Complex and impossible standards*

Twilight: *fresh out of a conversation with everyone else* You too? *pulls up sleeves, cracks his knuckles* You're on, skyboy.

Sky: *angst about Demise*

Twilight: He was a dumb shit.

Sky: *having a theological crisis*

Twilight: How about I fix that by making it even worse?

#Linkeduniverse #Linked Universe #LU Twilight #LU Sky #LU Wolfie

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mediaevalmusereads · 3 years ago

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Prince of Mist. By Carlos Ruiz Zafon. Translated by Lucia Graves. New York: Little, Brown Books, 2010 (Spanish edition published 1993).

Rating: 3/5 stars

Genre: YA horror, supernatural, Gothic fiction

Part of a Series? Yes, Niebla #1

Summary: It’s wartime, and the Carver family decides to leave the capital where they live and move to a small coastal village where they’ve recently bought a home. But from the minute they cross the threshold, strange things begin to happen. In that mysterious house there still lurks the spirit of Jacob, the previous owners’ son, who died by drowning. With the help of their new friend Roland, Max and Alicia Carver begin to explore the suspicious circumstances of that death and discover the existence of a mysterious being called The Prince of Mist—a diabolical character who has returned from the shadows to collect on a debt from the past. Soon the three friends find themselves caught up in an adventure of sunken ships and an enchanted stone garden, which will change their lives forever.

***Full review under the cut.***

Content Warnings: violence, blood, drowning, clowns

Overview: I adored Zafon’s The Shadow of the Wind and Marina, but this book fell kind of flat for me. To be fair, Prince of Mist was Zafon’s first book, and he has grown and improved as an author since this book’s publication in 1993, but still. I didn’t quite love this one as much as his other work. The passive characters, lack of atmosphere, and absence of a strong, central theme made me feel like I was reading a book without real substance, though there were enough interesting images and creepy moments for me to give this book 3 stars.

Writing: Zafon’s prose is usually incredibly atmospheric, and though I got some of that out of this book, overall, Prince of Mist seemed to be lacking. I really wanted Zafon to lean more into the unsettling environment of the seaside town - perhaps by making it feel uncanny, or by making things feel deceptively peaceful. I also would have liked Zafon to hang back a little more on the telling and instead showing the reader the significance of certain events.

Plot: The main plot of this novel involves Max and his older sister, Alicia, figuring out what happened to Jacob - the son of the previous owners of their house - who supposedly drowned a number of years earlier. At first, I thought this book was going to be about ghosts or a haunted house, but it’s more about the creepiness of the ocean nearby. This is all well and good - the ocean can be terrifying. However, I ultimately felt like I was waiting for random spooky things to happen, rather than characters gradually solving a mystery and creepy things happening along the way. Supernatural events seemed to have no real connection to each other - they happened to mainly insert a spooky scene here and there, without really pointing to a reason why the spooky thing is happening here and now. For example, there’s a scene when Max visits a graveyard, and spooky things happen, but we’re not really told why. Does the Prince of Mist want to prevent Max from learning a secret buried in the graveyard? We never find out.

Also, I felt like a lot of backstory and rationale for the spooky things is dumped on us through one character’s extended monologues, rather than revealed over time by characters uncovering secrets and piecing together a story. This made the characters seem somewhat passive - Max and Alicia mostly had to wait for information to be revealed to them, rather than drawing their own conclusions. I would have rather seen Max put together the story himself, perhaps by watching all of the mysterious home films he found, perhaps by checking out the graveyard in more detail. Something more than just depending on the lighthouse keeper to tell him what everything means.

Characters: Max, our primary protagonist, is a likeable 13 year old boy, but ultimately doesn’t have much development. He seems smart, but doesn’t actually piece together much himself; instead he relies on other characters to tell him what to make of certain information. I did like that he was brave and did things even when he admitted to being scared. That much was admirable, and I wish Zafon had made that part of his character development.

Alicia, Max’s sister, is also around a lot but mainly exists to be a damsel in distress towards the end of the book. She does much less than her brother, and I felt like she and Max could have been combined into one character for a stronger story.

Roland, the boy that the siblings meet by the sea, is also fairly likeable in that he’s adventurous and friendly, but again, he doesn’t really develop much. I think I would have liked to see him be more self-centered and egotistical so that his act towards the end of the book would have been more impactful.

Max and Alicia’s family - their parents and younger sister, Irina - seem to exist just to be absent, and by that I mean Zafon had to give a plausible reason for why the parents aren’t around while all the spooky shenanigans are happening, so he wrote the rest of the family in only to have them spend most of the book at the hospital. While I think the rest of the Carver family is charming, I think their absence was too painfully obvious.

Rolan’s grandfather, Victor Kray the lighthouse keeper, was also likeable but existed mainly for infodumps. His backstory is sad, and I think the way he tells it is moving, but he didn’t have much of a role other than to dole out information.

The Prince of Mist was perhaps the most disappointing character in that he didn’t have nearly as complex a motivation as some of the antagonists in Zafon’s other works. Because the Prince of Mist isn’t seen directly for most of the book, he feels like a boogeyman more than an actual threat (even though we learn that he does have the ability to harm people). I would have liked Zafon’s story to hammer home a central message or theme that the Prince of Mist embodies: in Marina, the theme was about extending life beyond its natural boundaries, and the antagonist showed how that could be a bad thing. If the Prince of Mist was something like a stand-in for greed or some other concept, then the other characters and their arcs could have lined up with that and we would have gotten a more compelling narrative.

TL;DR: Prince of Mist is a spooky but disappointing novel that fails to stick with readers due to its passive characters and lack of strong theme. While it had enough creepy imagery to keep readers entertained, it’s ultimately one of the weaker examples of Zafon’s writing.

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taetaesbitch · 4 years ago

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Playing With Fire - Chapter 2 - It’s a fiend thing

Jungkook x Reader

Warnings: 18+ Smut, Supernatural

Word Count: 1.8k

You can’t stop thinking about that fire dancer, but as you go about your normal life, something seems off, the shadows are closing in...

Chapter 2 - It’s a fiend thing

You’re still thinking about that mysterious fire dancer the next day, as you make your way through town, fantasizing about seeing him again.

“Are you sure you weren’t on drugs?” You raise your eyebrows at your sister’s remark.

“I was so not! He was there. He was a solid being. And then he was… he was just… gone.” You gaze into the distance thinking about those alluring eyes.

“Yeah either you were high or seeing spirits. Nothing else makes sense.” You strike Dot’s arm and she groans in pain.

“Well where were you all night?” When she doesn’t answer, you glance over at her, her face is guilty and she fiddles with a thread on her bag. You let out an exaggerated gasp.

“You weren’t! You weren’t with Seth were you?!” She struggles to keep a straight face before beaming at me.

“What did you two devils get up to?” She smirked before opening her mouth to reply, “Wait, no I don’t want to know.” You link arms and giggle before heading into the market.

After a productive day, you head home to your riverside townhouse, taking the woodland path. You can’t help but feel like someone is watching you. Shadows lurk at the corner of your vision, and a twig snaps. You spin to face the path behind you, but there is no one there. Your pulse spikes, taking a deep breath, you turn on your heel and walk quickly towards your house. Footsteps sound behind you as you near it. With the dying light and far too many horror movie scenarios playing out in your head, you sprint to your front door. With trembling hands you jam your keys in the lock and twist. Someone grabs your shoulders and says “Raaa!” Causing your heart to sky rocket and you to shriek. Turning to face your housemate, you whack them on the arm, frowning.

“You scared the shit out of me!” Your breathing is ragged. Your housemate, Sabrina, doubles over laughing. “You think this is funny? I could have had a heart attack!”

“It was worth it!” You scowl at her before smiling, relieved that it was her and not some serial killer.

“Blue today?” She touches her spiky blue hair.

“Yeah, aquamarine if you want to be specific.” She grins.

“It suits you. Why are you out here anyway? You’re usually home an hour before me.”

“Oh, I think I lost my keys on the way home, I can’t find them so I’ve been waiting for you to come home.”

“Huh, well come on, lets order take out.”

“Oo yah!” You shut the front door and ensure it’s locked.

“(Y/N).” A seductive voice whispers, “(Y/N).” Dark eyes peer into yours from the shadows. Invisible hands grab your body and spin you into flame. You cry out but pass right through unharmed, as if it were just air. The voice chuckles and tuts, before laying you down on that flame. A figure looms over you, lustful eyes attached to it, that dark skin and playful smirk. Leaning down, he brushes his lips over yours, the shadows consuming you.

A rush of growing whispers startle you awake, you sit upright in bed, gulping down air. Alarmingly turned on and shaken. You swear you hear a distant chuckle as you look out the window at the rising sun.

“Woah woah (Y/N), it’s just me!” That voice! You become still in his arms, glancing down at his wrists, tattoos! He turns you to face him.

It’s club night and you get dressed into your silky red dress, before leaving with your sister and Sabrina. As the night goes on, alcohol overtakes your senses and you are lost to the music. You feel eyes on you, you dismiss it as the people in the club, but this stare feels much more intense. At one point you swear you see your fire dancer, but in a blink he’s gone, you must be hallucinating. It must be the alcohol in your system. Eventually the night is over, the alcohol has worn off and you head home. Sabrina gets off with a guy and promises to be home later so you have to leave the door unlocked, and your sister left earlier with Seth. Deciding not to get a taxi because your bank account is wounded enough as it is, you take the short route home, along the woodland path. It’s eerily quiet as you walk cautiously along, every small noise alerts you and makes you shiver with uncanny fear. You come to a dead stop. A figure emerges along the path in front of you. Every nerve in your body is telling you to run. It’s nobody. You think. Just someone taking a late night walk. Yeah right, at 3 O’clock in the morning?! That’s psychopath hour! Your breath comes in sharp pants. You start walking again, as you near, the physique definitely tells you it’s a man. He comes to a halt a few metres ahead of you. Wisps of Shadow? Swirl around him. He whispers something faint. You turn and run, sprinting off the path and into the trees, discarding your heels in the process. Oh god, oh god, oh god! His heavy footsteps sound behind you, closer than you realise. I am so dead. There’s no way I can outrun him, especially in this dress. Strong hands jerk your body back into a solid chest. You scream out. Thrashing in his grip, “Let me go!”

“Y-you.” Your eyes collide with his and an instant calm washes over you, but is soon replaced by building rage. “You. How dare you do that! What are you playing at?! I thought you were some sort of sadistic killer.”

“Who says I’m not?”

You halt, body tensing, before backing away out of his reach. He chuckles, “I’m only kidding.” You’re not sure if he is. His face drops, becoming sincere and his voice softens. “I’m sorry if I scared you.” You take a deep breath.

“No it’s ok, I was just- ” Your mind becomes foggy, shadows lingering around you, you feel light headed.

“Just what?” His voice sends your hormones raging, your body feels like it’s on fire as you step into his warmth.

“Who are you?” Your eyes narrow, you don’t even know his name.

“I’m Jungkook.” He grins.

“What are you?” His grin falters but doesn’t fall.

“I’m a person.” Your head lightens again, becoming fuzzy with lust. You fix your eyes on his lips, which look deliciously inviting.

“How do you just appear?”

He hesitates, “It’s a fiend thing.”

“What do you want?” You stand on your tiptoes, lips hovering dangerously close to his lips.

“Right now?” His gaze grows heavy lidded and… hungry, as he licks his lips, “I want to fuck you against a tree.” Your lips brush his, before you pull away completely, and back into a tree. “Wicked thing you.” He slowly steps towards you. “Did you enjoy our dance on Bonfire night?”

“It was…” You tilt your head, trying to find the right word, “Interesting.” He scoffs, stepping so close that his breath ruffles your hair.

“Just interesting? I thought it was more…” His head tilts up to the sky, exposing a defined neck that makes your pulse flutter. He looks down at you, like a predator sizing up his prey, “Lascivious... exhilarating even.” Your heartbeat quickens as he leans down, pausing only for a moment, giving you a chance to refuse, “You’re little dress is making me feel like that right now.” You allow his lips to close over yours and you melt. His hand moves to clasp your neck, as his tongue swipes out over your lower lip, asking for entry, you grant it. The sensation as he slips into your mouth weakens your knees, his hands shoot out to grip your hips, pinning you against the tree. You groan into his mouth as his leg parts your thighs. He licks and sucks over your jaw and down your neck, causing you to grind onto him, your nails digging into his shoulders. “That’s so fucking hot.” He growls onto your neck, making you grind harder and eliciting a moan. His fingers move to grip your dress, before shredding the top of it. You gasp, excited by his roughness and shocked at his strength. His eyes glitter at your exposed breasts, nipples perked, lowering his head he sucks one in before you can protest. His mouth is a shock, hot and burning, making your nerve endings stand on edge. Releasing your nipple with a popping sound, he circles it with his tongue before licking the swollen point. His tongue is rough, like a cats, causing your body to jerk back and your centre to press into his now prominent bulge. He chuckles before moving to your other nipple and glancing up to watch your expression. You squirm and whimper until he releases that one too, his lips meet yours briefly before his hands slide up your thighs. The skin on skin contact sends tingling sensations to your core, a strong longing takes over and you lift the dress off yourself, before reaching out to him. He clasps your wrists, looking deep into your eyes, nose to nose, “Eager are we?” The comment makes your cheeks flush red, his eyes survey your body, making you blush even more and you lower your eyes. Suddenly self conscious you cross your arms over your abdomen. He grabs those arms and grasps your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his and startling you. His eyes look like molten lava flowing through dark rock, shadowed in the corners, with streams of orange light crackling through. “Don’t - ever - hide yourself from me.” His ferocity turns you on, but you’re still gobsmacked by the eyes. You blink and they’re back to the dark shade they were before. That is not normal. Maybe I imagined it. You think.

“I-I’m sorry.” His grip softens at your voice and he begins to trail his hands down your body, raising goose bumps on your skin, before cupping your throbbing pussy. You jump at the sudden pressure, but as his fingers slip through your wetness, you find yourself arching into him, head lolling back against the tree at the motion.

His breath caresses your neck as he whispers in a sultry voice, “I like your eagerness. It makes what I’m about to do torture for you.” He gives you a devilish smirk before kneeling, tugging your red silk thong down with him. You yelp as he hoists your legs over his shoulders, and as his mouth meets your clit, a fire ignites in your core and you scream in ecstasy.

#bts fanfic #bts smut #Jungkook fanfic #Jungkook smut #Jungkook supernatural

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saxxxology · 5 years ago

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What Lurks Beneath the Surface - 1

After Sam’s ultimate sacrifice, you struggle to cope. When he shows up after months of being gone, you’re happier than ever to see him. That is, until you realize that the love of your life is much different than you remember.

PAIRING: Soulless!Sam x Reader WARNINGS: canon divergence (season 6), angst, suspense, violence, smut, minor dub-con, and more. NOTE: Some elements of this series are a little darker than what I usually write. Warnings are sporadic to avoid spoilers - send me an ask if you have any concerns!

Read the entire series on Patreon for just $3

Series Masterlist

Every night after Sam’s death you drink to him. there’s always a bottle of something in your apartment, and you don’t touch it other than to drink in Sam’s memory. Each day his absence hurts just a little more, and on some days it aches so bad you can barely make it out of bed to go to work.

One morning you call in sick and spend the day crying in your bedroom, hugging your pillow and sobbing into the stained pillowcase. You whisper I miss you one second and then curse him the next. Damn you, Sam, you think. Damn you for giving up like that.

And then you wonder if Sam even wanted to make it out alive. Maybe he wanted to die.

For weeks, you try calling Castiel. All you want is a friend, and you’ll take the socially awkward angel as a goddamn roommate if it gets you somebody to talk to.

Castiel doesn’t answer.

Halloween is the first holiday to pass. Sam never liked Halloween, so you don’t dress up or decorate your apartment or go outside to hand out candy. You don’t even watch a horror movie; Sam was always there to protect you when the fake ghosts or monsters got too scary when you were little. Again, while tiny fists knock on your door, high-pitched voices yelling “trick or treat,” you repeat your ritual of drinking to him, making your count rise to exactly eighty.

Eighty days without your best friend.

Next comes Thanksgiving, and you make the long, cold drive to see Dean and Lisa. You spend three days with them, staying up late baking cornbread and cookies with Lisa, letting Ben teach you how to play video games, and the night before you leave, you and Dean go out to a bar and have a drink for Sam.

It feels good to drink with someone else for once.

A few days after you get back home, you’re out getting groceries, and out of the corner of your eye, you think you see him. There’s the blur of a dark gray jacket and brown hair, and the height makes it all the more realistic, but by the time you look up, the blur is gone, replaced by a white-haired old lady who’s easily a foot and a half shorter.

You shake it off, thinking it’s just your overactive imagination.

On Christmas Eve, you’re sadder than usual. Christmas was your favorite holiday to celebrate with Sam, and now that he isn’t here, it seems pointless to do anything related to it. But your apartment is so dark and dreary that you finally decide that wallowing in sadness is getting unhealthy. You spend the morning cleaning up, throwing out empty cans and bottles and you actually decide to test out your dishwasher for the first time since you moved in.

After cleaning and plugging in an apple-scented air freshener, you go out and get a small tree and set it up on your coffee table. A string of little white lights and golden ornaments light up the dark green branches, and when you finally turn them on, they light up your entire living room. It makes you smile, and you go to your room, dig out your brand new Polaroid camera, and snap a picture. The flash goes off, and within seconds the little rectangle of paper falls into your lap.

You hold it up, examining the picture. It’s still not completely focused, so you decide to let it set and grab your phone. You take a quick picture of your tree and send it to Dean.

< Merry Christmas! :)

A few minutes later, your phone chimes, and Dean’s caller ID pops up on your screen.

“Hey.” You answer the phone with the hint of a smile on your face.

“Hey, kiddo, how are you?” Dean’s voice is rough, but quiet, like it usually is after he’s had a couple drinks.

“I’m holding up,” you reply, “what about you?”

Dean exhales heavily, and you wonder if he’s alone and drinking his feelings away. “I’m… not okay, but I’m not going downhill either.” He clears his throat. “It’s just different.”

“Yeah, I know…” you swallow and look at the setting ink on your photo. “I miss him.”

“I miss him too,” Dean says quietly. “Lisa took one of the pictures I have of him and got it printed on a Christmas ornament, it’s hanging on our tree.”

“That’s sweet of her.” You smile. “Maybe I’ll come out for New Year’s Day, we can light fireworks with Ben.”

“Yeah.” Dean replies. The sound of a door closing echoes in the background, and Dean inhales. “Hey, I’ll call you tomorrow morning, maybe we can Skype or something.”

“All right,” you whisper. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

“Sure thing, kiddo. Merry Christmas.”

The line goes dead, and you toss your phone onto the table. The Polaroid still isn’t ready, so you reach under the couch and pull out the box of photos that you’ve collected over the years. You’re searching for one in particular, your all-time favorite out of over a hundred.

It’s an old polaroid of you and Sam on one of the few good days you had when you were younger; John had left the two of you at a mall while he took Dean to an indoor firing range, and the two of you had saved up enough for a Polaroid camera and some slides. In the photo, it’s Sam’s seventeenth birthday, and you’re holed up with the boys in a motel room with a ten-dollar cake and a bundle of multicolored balloons. Dean had taken the photo of the two of you right before Sam blew out the candles, and for once, the smiles you have in the picture aren’t faked.

You set the picture back in the box and reach over to reexamine your brand new photo. It’s a little blurry from the flash, but you reach over to grab a Sharpie and title it anyway.

You’re about to tuck the photo into the box next to the birthday one when you see something.

There’s a shadow in the section of the window that’s included in the photograph. A very human-like shadow.

You examine it closer, leaning forward so that the picture is illuminated by the Christmas lights. The shadow is clearly human, and it’s right outside your window, like someone is walking up the stairs to get to your apartment.

Mail deliveries don’t run this late, and you doubt anyone other than Dean has your address.

You rush into your bedroom and grab a magnifying glass from your desk. Flicking on your lamplight, you lean in to examine the shadow in detail.

The person’s clearly tall, from their position on the stairs and the height of your window. You move the magnifying glass a little to the left and freeze.

That profile… you’d know that damn nose anywhere.

You run out of your bedroom, down the short hall into your living room, to the front door. You wrench it open step out into the cold air, not caring that your bare feet are immediately freezing on the light covering of snow.

The only cars in the parking lot belong to the people who live there. There aren’t any fresh tire marks in the snow. You turn on the light outside your door and feel a hot rush of adrenaline flood your body.

Coming up the stairs and stopping right in front of you are boot prints, made by someone heavy enough to pack an inch of snow down and reveal the cement landing. You rub your eyes, thinking your imagination must be running wild, but when you open them, the prints are still there. You bend down and brush your fingers over the edge of the snow, examining the tracks carefully.

Sam’s boots. You know the indentations like the back of your hand, well over ten years of watching Sam walk through mud or through an old rain puddle had forced the pattern into your brain.

He can’t be alive… he died, he’s been dead for almost five months…

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by the sound of windows banging open, and you look up to see old Mrs. Alderman peering at you. She’s dressed in a pale pink robe and has her white hair up in curlers.

“Y/N, honey, get inside, you’ll catch your death,” she chides.

“I will…” you offer a smile and stand up. “Did you... did you see anyone just now?”

Mrs. Alderman tilts her head. “Out where, honey?”

“Here, by my door.” Your heart thuds wildly in your chest as you watch the old woman carefully.

She nods. “I did, tall guy, long hair, didn’t get a good look at his face.” She motions down the stairs. “He left a good minute before you opened the door. Looked like somethin’ spooked him.” She giggles raspily. “Thought you might have a boyfriend or somethin’ coming over.”

You nod and step back inside your apartment before she can say anything else. You don’t have anything of Sam’s that he could be attached to. Dean had taken his laptop and stash of books with him, leaving you with only the box of photos, but Sam didn’t know that half of them existed, and the others probably not enough to have a memory to hang on to. And Sam would never let himself stay on earth like that, as a ghost or spirit.

You go to the window and slide your curtains closed, blocking any view from outside before doing the same to every other window in the house. You grab the canister of salt from the top shelf in the kitchen and draw a thick line in front of the door, then over all the windowsills in the apartment. It seems stupid, but for the first time in five months, you feel like you’re in danger.

Sam had a lot of weight on his shoulders when he died, and you’ve seen the damage vengeful spirits can do, to both inanimate objects and people.

Finally, when you come back to look at the photograph, you collapse on your bed, holding the paper close to the lamplight.

The silhouette of the face, the height, the description Mrs. Alderman gave you… it terrifies you. There’s no possible way Sam could be alive, or that his spirit could make it to Earth. From the time he was six months old, Sam was damned to hell and nothing he could do could alter it. Demons are probably getting a kick out of knowing he’s down there, battling it out with Lucifer for the rest of time. Tears sting your eyes, and with a glance at the clock you realize it’s time for your nightly ritual.

Slowly, like there’s a weight pulling you down, you rise from the bed and stumble into the kitchen. You pull a brand new bottle of whiskey off of the counter and wrench the top out.

“Miss you, Sammy.” You whisper, and then you tilt the bottle back and take a long, burning swallow.

You feel like you’re falling and you land on something cold and soft and wet. Your fingers tangle in what feels like long blades of grass, and when you open your eyes, the sky is white above you.

There’s a grunt, the THWACK! of a fist connecting with flesh and bone, and the sound of a body falling to the ground.

Turning your head to the source of the sound, you realize you’re in Stull Cemetery, lying not twenty feet from where Sam was standing over his brother, the fingers of one hand curled into a fist, the other hand holding Dean’s shirt with an iron grip.

Bobby’s lying a few feet away from you, his neck turned at an awkward angle. You remember now; Lucifer had snapped his neck before throwing you over the hood of the Impala, the force of your flight enough to stun you on impact.

“Bobby…” You reach out for him, touching his shoulder in a vain attempt to wake him, but he doesn’t move. You hear Sam’s fist connect with Dean’s face again, and Dean’s pleading with him to stop…

Lucifer lets Dean drop to the ground, blood flowing freely from his nose and several cuts across his face. He turns away from you, looking out beyond the tall, black gates of the cemetery. You crawl backwards behind a tall headstone, cowering as Lucifer forced Sam’s body to revolve, his back ramrod straight, eyes narrowed, searching for any living thing in a place of death.

“Y/N…” Lucifer calls your name, taunting you. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

Dean groans from his position on the ground and looks up at the imposing figure above him. “Don’t you dare hurt her!”

Lucifer stops, and from around the headstone you can see the hint of a smirk playing on Sam’s fine features. You hide your face as he turns, and you hear Dean shout in pain as his head snaps back, slamming against the side of the Impala hard enough to knock him out.

“Now…”

You cower in fear as Lucifer strides closer to where you’re hiding, his steps even and heavy on the damp earth, and fallen leaves crunch eerily under his boots.

“You can come out and give yourself up, by choice, or…” he stops a few feet away from the headstone, and you hear him take a deep breath, “you can make me come and get you myself. Cas is gone, Bobby’s gone, Dean’ll be out for a while, and Sam...” he scoffs, “Sam’s screaming in here, screaming your name…”

You whimper and cover your mouth, tucking your legs up underneath you. You hear Lucifer pacing away, and you sign in relief.

“I could let him out, you know?” Lucifer says. “I could let you hear the agony he’s in, let you know how bad he wants you to save him. Probably because he’s too weak to save himself.”

Those words make you feel rage over fear, and you stand up from your hiding spot, run around the headstone, and charge the devil.

“You bastard!” you scream, and you raise your fists as your body collides with Sam’s and you strike at his face, kicking and slapping at him even as he grabs hold of your wrists and holds you still. You’re forced to look into his face as he raises a hand to grip your throat, and those dark, glittering eyes are the last thing you see before he flicks his wrist, and your vision goes dark.

You jerk awake, still screaming and crying. Your body is drenched in sweat and there are tears streaming down your face.

“It was a dream,” you tell yourself. “It was just a dream, it wasn’t real…”

Sinking back against the twisted sheets, you feel the darkness return, that cold weight that presses you down into the mattress and stops you from moving.

Sam needed you in that cemetery. Lucifer had said so. Sam needed you and you hadn’t done jack to save him.

What kind of friend were you?

SIX MONTHS LATER...

You’re feeling good for the first time in a while, and when you get yet another sizable paycheck (you’ve been working extra shifts to avoid your apartment since Christmas), you take the opportunity to take a road trip and visit Dean, Lisa, and Ben at their new house. You stay for a weekend, reconnecting with Dean and poring over old memories of growing up with the Winchesters.

When you get back to the apartment on Monday afternoon, however, you have a bit of trouble parking.

Some asshole’s parked a shiny black Dodge Charger in your spot.

“Are you serious?!” You pull into the spot across from Asshole Number One and grab your bags. “What the hell is wrong with people...”

That night you take a long bubble bath to relax from the stress of travel. When you finally drain the water and slip on your brand new robe, you feel completely relaxed for the first time in months. Hell, you might even get more than five hours of sleep tonight. You towel your hair almost dry and toss the towel into a hamper before slipping on pajama shorts and a baggy shirt and pacing into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. You’re back in your bedroom when you get the scare of a lifetime.

Two large, strong arms wrap around you from behind, and one hand comes up to cover your mouth. You scream, but the sound is muffled and when you try to open your mouth to bite, you find that your jaw can barely move under the force.

Kicking wildly, you manage to land your heel just below your assailant’s knee, but their hold doesn’t loosen. You flail your arms above your head, searching out eyes to scratch or a nose to break. Your attacker pushes you towards the bed, and your legs go out from under you as they shove you down, hard enough to knock the air from your lungs. Gasping for air, your screams are half-silenced when they roll you onto your back, using their entire body to hold down your writhing form.

The gun, you think, get to the gun in the nightstand!

You manage to get your legs up and kick, hard. The person on top of you, now evidently male, grunts with pain and stumbles back as you crawl backwards on the bed, reaching for the only weapon in the room.

He’s back on top of you before you know it, dragging you underneath him and pinning you down. Again, he covers your mouth with his hand, muffling your groans and screams of fear.

No, no, please no…

Your lungs burn for oxygen, tears of fear streaming from your eyes and dripping down your face. You thrash around harder, hitting the body above you with fists that grow weaker with every second.

I’m gonna die… I’m gonna die tonight.

You let out one more gasping cry before you succumb to the darkness.

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